#oh! oh! imagine if the human fell down DURING the series

[thelov3lybookworm]

Caged In (part 6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Day 6: Romance

Summary:

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A/n: and with this, we come to the end of this series 🥹 thank you to all who loved this so much. I'm grateful ❣️

@lucienweekofficial

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It felt like Lucien put his whole soul into kissing Y/n.

Y/n wasn't complaining.

She kissed him right back with everything she had in her as she buried her fingers in his long silky hair. It was softer that she had imagined.

Lucien's hand encircled her waist as he began walking her backwards, not once faltering in the movements of his mouth against hers.

Only when Y/n felt the edge of her bed pressing into her calves did she pull back, her chest heaving. Lucien tried to follow her, nipping at her lips, but then seemed to decide that breathing was also a necessity.

The both of them stared at each other as they tried to catch their breath.

"Why were you so scared about me being with Azriel?"

"Because... because I was afraid that he'd take away the one person I love. It's not like it hasn't happened before, even if he had no intention of doing it. My mate, the person who was destined to be with me, is in love with him. You can't fault me for being scared that he'd steal you away too. And I wouldn't let that happen. Because I love you."

"What?" She questioned. Lucien gave her a puzzling look.

"What... what?"

A giggle burst free from Y/n's mouth. "What did you just say?"

"I– I love you." Then his face fell, and he took a step away. "I'm sorry. I didn't ask you if you felt the same way–"

Y/n stared at him for a moment before she threw herself at him, laughing wildly.

"Oh mother. Lucien, I feel like I've been waiting my whole life to hear those words from you! I love you too, you dumbass."

"Then thank the cauldron." He muttered, the corners of his lips lifting before he slammed them against Y/n's again.

It would be safe to say that no one had any nightmares for the rest of the night.

Because none of them got any sleep.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

Lucien was buzzing with nerves, trying not to fiddle with the white robe he wore as he stood in front of his father, waiting for his judgement. They were in a private family wing, a sprawling stairway behind Lucien leading up to the chambers. Where Y/n currently was.

It was the day of the coronation, six months after he had found out about his parentage.

In those six months, Lucien and his father had bonded, so much so that it was easy to forget they had only found out about being related a few months ago.

In those six months, Beron had been assassinated, all disputes settled, peace once again a thing between the human and faerie lands.

Beron's death meant that Lucien's mother and father could meet again after centuries of longing, and Lucien was glad that the both of them were happy.

But that also meant that his father wanted to spend maximum amount of time with his love, and he was stepping down from the throne.

When Lucien had questioned the decision, Helion had replied that he was getting old and cranky, and he wanted to spend all the time he had with Lucien's mother. So they would be living in a private home in the mountains away from the bustle of the city.

The act of passing the crown to a heir was a hard and painful one unless the current high lord died, but Helion was ready to take it all.

So today, during the coronation, Helion would be performing a complex ritual that would leave him nearly powerless, transferring all the power to Lucien, the new high lord.

Helion gave Lucien a smile, pride taking over his features before he pulled Lucien in for a bone crushing hug.

"I'm so proud of you, my son."

Lucien's throat clogged with emotions as he clutched his father. Never in his life had anyone, except his mother and Y/n, said that they were proud of him. Maybe Jurian.

"Thank you."

Helion took a step back, his hands on Lucien's shoulders. "You'll be an amazing high lord."

Lucien nodded, not knowing how to reply.

He was spared the struggle when the door behind his father opened and in stepped the inner circle.

Rhys gave Helion a hug as Feyre came up to Lucien, grinning.

"High Lord, eh? I'm so happy for you." Feyre tried hugging Lucien, but Nyx had other plans. He made grabby hands at Lucien, who laughed and took him in his arms.

Everyone began congratulating Lucien and his father, even Nesta smiled at him. Cassian and Azriel gave him small smiles.

Looking at Cassian, Lucien wondered if he should fear for his life.

"Congratulations." A soft, feminine voice litled from nearby, and Lucien looked away from Nyx to find Elain standing there in a soft pink gown. Lucien hadn't even realised she was here.

Lucien nodded his thanks, going back to babbling at Nyx. "Would you like to ride a pegasus Nyx? I have my own. We can take a ride later on." Nyx squealed in happiness, although he probably didn't understand what Lucien had said.

A small, dainty hand landed on Lucien's bicep, and he looked to find Elain smiling at him.

"Can I have a word?" She nodded her head towards one of the wide windows, and Lucien looked around in confusion before he handed Nyx to Feyre, following Elain, away from everyone. Feyre gave him a mischievous smile and Rhys winked at him.

"How are you doing?"

Lucien furrowed his brows. "I'm doing good. What did you want to talk about?"

Lucien wanted to get straight to the point. He didn't have time for small talk. Y/n would be walking down those stairs any moment now, and he wanted to be the first one to see her.

"Oh. Okay. I... I know I haven't been paying you any attention, like a mate should. But I think I'm ready to pursue a relationship with you. I want to get to know you better."

Lucien blinked at her before he remembered that neither she nor the inner circle knew about his relationship with Y/n.

"I– I'm sorry Elain, but I can't accept to be in the mating bond. It's too late now."

"What do you mean?" Hurt flashed across her face, and it came in waves at Lucien from her side of the bond.

"I've found my high lady already."

"Do you think I want this bond only because I want to be a high lady?" She asked angrily, and Lucien realised how his words could have come across.

"I didn't mean it that way, and I apologise if I gave you the wrong idea. I meant that I have already found someone and I love her very much."

Tears gathered in Elain's eyes. "Why?"

"I'm sorry. I really am. But there will come nothing out of a realtion between you and I."

She nodded, blinking away the tears before turning away. "Congratulations again."

Before he could think of apologising again, he heard the sound of skirts swishing on the floor, and everyone turned to look towards the top of the stairs.

There was a collective sharp drawing of breaths.

There, in a gown of the brightest white with a golden tiara on her head, stood Y/n, beaming down at him. He realised his mother had already arrived before Y/n, standing next to Helion.

Lucien couldn't look away from her. She looked so beautiful. She was practically glowing as she descended the stairs. Her eyes snagged on someone behind Lucien for a moment before returning to him.

Cassian.

Lucien walked up to her, grinning softly, unable to look away as she reached the bottom stair.

"Hello, my Lord." She curtsied slightly.

"Lady Y/n, its a pleasure." He gently grasped her hand and raised it to his lips, maintaining eye contact. She blushed.

"Y/n." Cassian breathed.

Y/n's pretty eyes flew to her brother and she swallowed.

"Cass."

"What is this?" Rhys questioned.

Y/n's eyes went glassy, and Lucien realised that they were conversing through his daemati powers.

Cassian walked up to Y/n and simply pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry. I missed you so much."

"Cass, I'm sorry–"

"Hush. Its alright. We'll talk later." Then Cassian turned to Lucien. "We will talk." He glared, but in a way brothers would glare at their sister's partner.

Lucien smiled. "Sure."

Y/n grinned at Lucien. "You're in for an interrogation."

Lucien grinned back.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Y/n clutched Lucien's hand tightly, trying not to go into fight or flight mode. She'd trained for this with Lucien and his mother. She should be able to do this.

But she wasn't ready.

And her biggest fear was tripping over her gown and falling face first in front of all the guests. That would be the recipe to a disaster. A really embarrassing start of her rulership.

Jurian would also make fun of her, as he would obviously be on the other side of that door. He and Vassa were said to have arrived recently, not being able to leave sooner due to the queen and king duties.

Those fears, combined with the rain did little to ease her nerves.

It was said that if it rained on someone's coronation day, it was a good sign.

Y/n's brain wasn't ready to understand that.

"Calm down love. It'll be all right." Lucien murmured in her ear. It was just the two of them in the hallway outside the Great Hall, where the coronation would take place. They would walk in soon, then enjoy the festivities for some time before the coronation took place.

"I'm calm." She mumbled.

She could practically feel his smirk. "Your grip on my hand says otherwise."

She immediatley let go. "Sorry."

He took her hand again. "It's alright." He studied her for a moment, then turned towards a nearby staircase. "Come. There is still time."

Y/n instantly became alarmed. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

He led her up the staircase and into a nearby balcony. It had beautifully potted plants and vines hanging all around, the rain giving it all a dreamy look.

"Why are we here?"

Lucien smirked at her. Before she could react, he pulled her onto the balcony, directly where the water was falling the most. Y/n squealed and tried to get back to the dry area, but Lucien's grip didn't falter.

"Come on my lady. This will be fun."

Lucien himself was already dripping with water, and he gave her a wild grin before pulling her in for a kiss. She let him, because who could say no to him? There was certainly something wrong with people who could deny Lucien of anything.

He deepened the kiss before moving onto her jaw and neck, peppering kisses on every bit of skin he could kiss. Y/n closed her eyes, feeling Lucien's lips and the drops splattering on her face.

"Lucien..." She said, breathless.

He relented, resting his forehead against hers.

Sometime later, without even realising it, the two of them had begun swaying to sound no one could hear, their movements perfectly synchronised.

As they danced in the rain, she realised she was no longer nervous. She had relaxed, the tensions bleeding from her shoulders.

"I love you." She sighed.

"I love you too." Lucien kissed her forehead.

•○🌑○•

Talons scraped against Y/n's mind, and she opened a window to Rhys, irritated at being interrupted.

What? She spat.

The coronation is about to start in a few moments. You need to make haste. He sounded so amused, Y/n wondered if she could punch him through his mind.

She looked up at Lucien, knowing he had also recieved the same message.

Lucien led her back to the stairs, drying his and her clothes with his magic.

"Ready?"

Y/n nodded. "Thank you."

"My pleasure." He winked at her.

She grinned and shook her head.

She wanted to grab him and drag him to an alcove and never stop kissing his stupidly handsome face, but she couldn't do that.

A coronation awaited.

But more than that, Jurian and Vassa would never let her live that down.

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General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @lizziesfirstwife

[lastoneout]

Okay I'm finally sitting down to properly watch the PJO series so here's an episode-by-episode live blog I guess. (Fair warning, I haven't read the books since I was a teenager, I am a smidge of an apologist for the films, and my favorite adaptation so far has been the musical.)

Episode One:

All of the actors are doing a really good job, I especially like Sally.

The costume design for both the monsters and the humans is pretty killer. I want Percy's sweater.

I also love the little seaside cabin and want to live there!!!

This is such a mild gripe BUT as someone with dyslexia I wish there was a better way to visually depict it without like, doing the swapping letters thing cuz that's just not what it's actually like at all.

Gabe maybe feels a little too funny. Like I'm supposed to hate him and think it's justified that he deserves to be turned into stone at the end, this version of him is really.....toned down, and his banter with Percy and Sally was fun to watch. I should hate him, but really he just came across as unpleasant. Less abusive asshole and more "old married couple who share interests but can't communicate without shouting" you know?

Loved Grover's little "I'm 24 actually" lmao that was great.

Not a fan of Percy immediately recognizing the Minotaur within a millisecond of it appearing before the audience even got a good look at it. Like, I just sat there thinking "how can he even see it?" rather than feeling scared of a big monster barreling at them.

The action is uh....fine? Feels a little lackluster. Or kinda....divorced from the rest of the show weirdly?? Idk it makes me feel like I'm watching a movie of a movie if that makes sense?? But we'll see where they go with it. (I know banter during a fight isn't realistic and people make fun of Marvel for it, but like...it helps to have at least a little talking. We don't wanna be Man of Steel.)

I feel like there's been a few "slightly out of sync ADR" moments but they weren't too distracting.

Pacing into Sally saying goodbye felt a little long, kinda took the shock of her dying out of the scene, but the actress REALLY sold all the emotional beats so I'll forgive it.

I LOVE the credits sequence!!! Reminds me of the designs on that one box set of the books in a really cool way.

Episode Two:

Oh yes the ugly ass neon orange shirts are here bless!

FUCK YES THAT'S DIONYSUS BAYBEEE!! My ONLY note is that he def could have turned up the energy a little, but that's probably just bcs I love how loud and unpleasant he is in the musical and I also know how unhinged this actor can be.

Chiron is such a delight <3

I like the cabins too, way better than how I imagined them as a kid reading the books lol

Oh, I can see why the new fans fell for Luke so hard.

Grover assuming a human being squished would be like an old banana is very funny. Felt very book-humor in a good way.

Clarisse!!

Oh damn actual disabled half-bloods, very cool!

Minor but I can't actually tell what Percy did wrong with the bow? Weird editing I guess.

Aside from that I actually love a good "fuck up" montage, I honestly wish it were a little longer.

Probably doesn't matter but I don't get having them burn the food after they've started eating? I thought that was a before you sit down type thing.

Percy burning the blue candy to try to talk to his mom was sweet tho T_T

"real friends" hahahaha.....yeah.......about Luke.......

yay! hazing!

Oh I love Annabeth already >:D

Thalia.....is pronounced differently than I thought....?

(I'm sorry I'm too much of a fan of 'Tree on the Hill' for this exposition dump. That shit hits harder when coming from Grover.)

Percy giving Annabeth the "actually I suck and my self esteem is riding on this so like pls don't ask me to do anything hard T_T" talk is just, so good lmao

ofc he doesn't know what's going on Annabeth you didn't tell him anything

Okay the action is a lot better when it's between the actual characters and doesn't involve a 3D monster, though I still had trouble following all the hits Percy was taking.

Oooh I can see why people did so much art of Percy being claimed that was a good shot.

FUCK YEAH TELL HIM YOU'RE SALLY JACKSON'S SON

(I hope they kept the Oracle in the attic...)

Okay I have to go do some things and then I'll be back for more!

[angelasscribbles]

The Dark Kingdom Chapter 6: Bonded

Series: The Dark Kingdom

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Riley x Liam, Riley x Drake, Riley x ?

Word Count: 1,360

Rating: MA

Warnings for this series: mature themes

My other stuff: Master List.

The tension hung thick in the air as the door shut behind Leo.

Riley glanced uncertainly from Liam to Drake and back again, “What’s going on?”

The two men’s eyes met, and some unspoken communication passed between them. Liam recovered himself first, “I apologize for that unseemly outburst,” he gestured to the table, ladened with uneaten food, “Please, sit, eat.”

Riley didn’t move, “You called me your mate….”

A strangled sound issued from the back of his throat and an anguished expression fell over his features, “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t mean to scare you...I just….he threatened you and I reacted on instinct.”

“Why would your instinct tell you to call me your mate?”

“I…” Liam sighed heavily as he sank down into the chair he had previously vacated, “I don’t know.”

She took a step sidewise, away from Drake and toward the door, “Maybe I should leave. Coming here was a mistake-“

“Riley please!” Drake’s hand shot out to stop her, but he halted his momentum as he watched her flinch away from him. He drew his hand back and then held both of his arms up in front of him, palms open, “I’m sorry! I understand what you’ve been through and I would never do anything to-“

Her gaze swung wildly from Drake to Liam, “You told him?”

“No!” Liam looked aghast, “I mean, not exactly…not like you think!”

“What other way is there? Either you told him, or you didn’t!”

Liam met her eyes with equanimity, “You told him… when you told me.”

“I…don’t understand….”

Drake’s gaze bore into her, but he didn’t attempt to grab her again, “Please give us a chance to explain!”

The rational part of her brain told her to turn and run away. That these were men, whatever else they were, they were still men, powerful ones. She had run away from a bad situation to a worse one.

But her heart was screaming something else entirely and she had no idea why. Something deep inside of her recognized this place though she had never been here in her life. This was home, Liam was safe!

Something had called her here. Something had told her to scale that cliffside, an endeavor that had been sheer insanity, yet something inside her had whispered that it would be her salvation.

She hesitated, torn between running for the door and listening to what they had to say. Not as torn as she should be though, all things considered. Her instincts were telling her to trust them.

Her instincts had gotten her this far.

She walked back toward the table and both men let out a sigh of relief. Drake moved to pull out her chair but a sharp look from her and he backed away.

She seated herself carefully then looked at Liam expectantly, “All right then. Please explain.”

“First of all, I would never betray your confidence like that!”

“Then how does he know-“

 “I’m getting to that!” Liam held a hand up, “You know what I am?”

“You’re a vampire,” everyone knew what he was.

Liam nodded then gestured to Drake, “Do you know what he is?”

“I…” her eyes darted to the other man then back to the Dark Lord with a shake of her head, “No.”

Drake’s response was so soft, she almost thought she’d imagined it, “I’m human.”

Her head turned to gape at him, “But…that’s not possible…” her gaze swung back to Liam, “You said he swore an oath to you centuries ago!”

“Yes, he did. Do you know what a human servant is?”

“I know what a servant is…but you don’t mean a maid or a butler I’m guessing.”

“No. A vampire’s human servant exists to watch over and protect him during the day and to carry out any activities that need to be done when the sun is out.”

“That makes sense…”

“Indeed. In order to carry out the duties correctly, the human and the vampire must be bonded. Psychically entwined, if you will.”

Her eyes widened as she turned to Drake again, “Oh! So all those times you looked like you were having a conversation I couldn’t hear…you were!”

“I was,” Drake nodded.                                        

She turned back to Liam, “So…what? You can read each other’s minds?”

“That’s a gross oversimplification. We don’t hear each other’s thoughts unless we are specifically trying to communicate, but we feel each other’s emotions. So, when you confessed your situation to me this morning, the overall concept that you had been hurt and the overriding emotions that provoked in me were transmitted automatically to him. I can’t turn that part off.”

“You feel each other’s emotions?” The previous day's events spilled through her mind. Drake’s sudden change in attitude toward her now made sense. It was because Liam’s attitude toward her had changed.

“Yes,” Liam watched her face carefully as he explained, “Our very life forces are conjoined. If one of us dies, the other will most likely perish as well.”

Riley’s body jolted in shock, “But….isn’t that dangerous for you? If he’s really human, isn’t he easier to kill? Couldn’t someone who wanted to kill you just kill him?”

Liam nodded. “In order to keep that from happening, the bond endows the servant with many of the master’s attributes. Drake has vampire speed and strength, enhanced senses, and immortality.”

Drake smiled at her, “I’m not so easy to kill.”

“Okay, all of that makes sense,” her body relaxed at the sight of his smile even though she was sure it shouldn’t. Why neither of these beings frightened her was a mystery. She returned his smile tentatively before asking, “So you said I was your mate because Liam did?”

Drake nodded. “I feel what Liam feels.”

Her cheeks colored as she directed the next question to Liam, “And you feel a mate bond with me?”

She had grown up in next to the Black Spire Mountains, every human schoolchild had at least a passing knowledge of how the creatures that lived in them worked. She knew that vampires and werewolves formed mate bonds. She wasn’t sure exactly how it worked but she was pretty sure no esseri had ever had a mate bond with a human.

“Yes, but I don’t know why.” Liam’s eyes traced her face as if the answers he sought were there.

“You don’t know?” Riley’s gaze swung back and forth between them. If they didn’t have the answers, how was she supposed to?

“He doesn’t know because it’s impossible,” Drake answered for him. “He can’t feel the mate bond with you, or anyone else for that matter, because he is already mated.”

Riley felt an inexplicable pang of loss and jealousy flare through her. Her voice was shriller than she meant for it to be as she demanded, “To whom?”

“No one,” Liam stood abruptly and stalked across the room, keeping his back to her, “She died.”

Her heart plummeted, “Oh no, Liam, I’m sorry-“

“It was a long time ago,” he cut her off, “But the bond I forged with her never seemed to really go away after her death. And you’re human, so this shouldn’t be possible.”

She stared down at her hands twisted in her lap for a long time, biting her lower lip.

“What is it, Riley?” Drake’s voice came from behind her, impossibly gentle, in complete contrast to the man who had delivered her to the castle just yesterday.

Liam’s voice was just as gentle, “Please talk to us.”

She lifted her eyes slowly to meet Liam’s and whispered, “I feel it too.”

A myriad of emotions exploded across the Dark Lord’s face. Confusion, denial, elation. He held her gaze as a smile curved his lips up. He seemed to consider something for a moment then he moved back to the table and took the chair next to her. He held his hand out toward her, palm up.

Her eyes never left his as she placed her hand in his.

“We’ll figure this out, together, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed.

Liam’s gaze flicked up to meet Drake’s, “We need the witch.”

“On it,” Drake replied and before Riley could blink, he was gone.

[littlemourningstarr]

Death of Divinity

In the depths below his palace, Cazador is waiting- Cazador and his rite. Sekh knows they have to face him, for Astarion to be free. What he doesn't know is what Astarion's intentions are for the ritual, and if he can pick up the pieces after.

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Astarion x Transmasc tav

Part of the Eternally Yours series!

Tags: Transmasc tav, trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions/implications of past SA, public sex, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, fluff

Sekh felt frozen in place, taking in the sheer marvel of the palace around him. To say it was grand was an understatement. He had never once set foot in a high ranking drow household- but he had imagined them to be something similar. Imposing and rich.

Astarion lived like this?

Next to him, the vampire was quiet. It was unnerving, to have the palace door open for them, welcome them. The moment it had, his demeanor had changed. Sekh could feel his nervousness- simply radiating off him, but through small pulses on his hand, from their rings.

“Is it always this quiet?” Sekh asked, as Astarion brushed past him, leading further into the entrance foyer.

“No,” Astarion admitted, “at least- not at night. During the day, this isn’t that strange. But it’s still… quieter than expected.” Still, the silence was so thick it was cloying, heavy, weighing down on Sekh like corpse weight.

They paused in front of a large door, Astarion frowning deeply. It pulsed with a swarming, red magic- the bastardization of the weave so strong it was physically visible.

“Two hundred years, and I’ve never seen the ballroom door locked.” Sekh took his place next to Astarion, Karlach and Shadowheart both a step back, on high alert. No one felt comfortable walking into a vampire lord’s home, uninvited.

Or even invited.

Sekh touched the door. The magic didn’t hurt, it simply parted to allow his fingers to touch the cold metal and wood, intricately carved into a swirling swarm of rats.

A bitter bile rose in Sekh’s throat. Was it a sick joke to Cazador, to flaunt the only pathetic meal he’d ever give Astarion? Did he take a sick pleasure in forcing the symbolism down Astarion’s throat?

There was writing, etched into the door. Sekh couldn’t read it- but he had never been well learned in less common languages. His fingers traced the carvings, before pausing on an indent- the only spot possibly fit for a key.

“There’s writing like this all over the palace,” Astarion said, his voice like a ghostly whisper. “Some old, dead language of Cazador’s. We were strictly forbidden from learning it.” Sekh glanced over his shoulder, but a shrug of Karlach’s shoulders and a shake of Shadowheart’s head told him they didn’t recognize it, either.

He pulled his hand back, just as footsteps were heard, along the old, faded carpet. Sekh turned quickly, left hand coiling, Syl’s shadows sparking along his fingers- his right moving for his sword, freshly fixed and back at his side as of that morning, thanks to Dammon.

It was only a human man, who came into view. He looked surprised to see anyone. “More guests for the Master’s ceremony?” he mused, more to himself than to anyone. “I’m afraid you’re too late-”

His words cut off as his eyes fell on Astarion.

“Master Astarion?”

Sekh didn’t like hearing the title. It was a joke, in this palace. Astarion had never been master over anything while here- not even his own body and mind.

“You cannot be here, you’re supposed to be below, with the Master!”

Astarion huffed, lifting his chin, faking a regality that Sekh thought looked painful, on him. “Well, obviously I’m on my way down now. So just unlock the door, and I’ll be on my way.”

“No one can unlock the door- it was the Master’s orders. He gave the key to Godey.”

Astarion’s eye twitched. Sekh didn’t think the man meant to, but he bared his fangs at the name. “And where is the sadistic bag of bones?”

But this human was ignoring Astarion’s question, his eyes going glossy, mouth twisting in a pleased smile. “Oh, the Master will be so angry with you. He will do such terrible things to you.”

Sekh moved before the man could say another word, could let out the giggle quite obviously building in his throat. He grabbed him by the collar, shoving him back against the ballroom door. The action was so quick, so forceful, that the man’s head snapped back, cracked against the door itself.

“If you don’t want me to split you open from throat to cock you’ll answer Astarion’s question.” He leaned in so close he could smell the man’s sweat, some sort of cologne dabbed behind his ears. He swore he could smell a sudden spike of fear. When the man hesitated to speak, Sekh made a fist, slammed it into the door, dangerously close to his head. He ignored that it made his knuckles ache, that the etchings tore open his skin.

The scent of blood seemed to bring the man back to his senses.

“The-The Kennels,” he managed, his voice cracking at the end. Sekh smiled, let go of his collar and stepped back. The man’s legs gave, and he slid down to the floor, looking up at Sekh like he was an unknown, a shadow that had crept to life form the corners of the room.

“Starshine?” Sekh asked, glancing over at Astarion, who had been watching. “Do you need anything else?”

“No. No that is… enough.” The vampire swallowed thickly, and Sekh held his injured hand out to him, offering to take his hand in his own. Instead Astarion took it, lifted it to his mouth and dragged his tongue over the torn skin, lapped at the speckles of blood that had welled to the surface. Even just a taste had light flickering to his eyes.

“Then lead the way.” Astarion moved past Sekh, heading for a large curtained doorway. Karlach and Shadowheart flanked them, Karlach musing, “You really can be terrifying, can’t you, Sekh?”

Sekh didn’t respond. For Astarion, he’d be a devil himself, he’d be the embodiment of every shadow within this city. He’d be death incarnate, if his lover needed it of him.

They descended a long flight of stairs, which curved into a lower level of the palace. The moment they hit the floor, the entire party recoiled, the air reeking of death magic. A chill crept along Sekh’s spine, the necrotic magic within him stirring in recognition, trying to claw its way out from his skin.

“Best avoid that,” Karlach, nodding to a door, off to their left. The magic was seeping from under it. Astarion stared at the door, his cheeks seeming to lose any color they may have had.

“I used to… entertain our guests there,” he offered, before he jerked his head, looking away. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Cazador kept nothing but us and whoever we brought back for his entertainment in there.” He swallowed thickly, and Sekh could see the memories flitting behind the man’s eyes.

Still, Astarion turned in the opposite direction, moving away from the door. There was no choice but to follow. There was a woman down there, moving about in twitchy motions, mumbling to herself about everything needing to be perfect, perfect, perfect.

She didn’t even spare them a glance. Sekh let her be.

Astarion paused in front of a wall, and in a dramatic yet sardonic voice, announced, “Behold! Cazador’s cheapest trick- an illusionary wall.” The wall shimmered, before showing its true nature- a door, set with heavy locks- none of which were certainly fastened.

The drow moved up to Astarion, placed a hand on the small of his back. “Alright?” he asked, knowing the answer was no, but that Astarion would push through it. The vampire only gave a nod, an obvious lie- and Sekh had no choice but to accept it. He knew Astarion wasn’t going to be okay, until this nightmare was over.

All he could do was catch the pieces, as they flaked off him, and hope he knew how to settle them back into place, once this was over.

Sekh reached for the door, pulling it open. Its hinges screeched, made him grind his teeth. Astarion walked in quickly, announcing as he did so, “We know you’re there Godey- don’t bother skulking about in the shadows.”

Sekh moved quickly to flank him, followed by Karlach and Shadowheart- pausing when his eyes first took in Godey.

What was once a man- possibly- was nothing but bones, encased in old armor. He moved with jerking, twitching motions- the smell of necromancy thick, wafting off him in nauseating waves. Whatever he was, it was a sheer abomination.

“You always were sharp, little one.” The skeleton moved right for Astarion, reached up to drag his finger bones along his cheek. Astarion’s face twisted into alarm, as he allowed the touch. “Sharp enough to cut yourself.”

There was a bastardization of intimacy, to this thing’s voice. A strange desire, lacing the way he spoke to Astarion.

Astarion pushed the hand away, after a moment, grinding his teeth. “It’s taking everything I have not to grind your rotten carcass into dust.”

The anger spiked, stung Sekh’s hand. The rings seemed lively in a way they hadn’t been, suddenly. As if they were pulling on he and Astarion’s bond stronger than ever, wanting Sekh to feel everything that coursed through his vampire’s heart.

The thing laughed- it dared to laugh! “Oh don’t be mad at Godey child. I only did my job. I only kept you in line.”

If Godey’s skull could smile, it would be. The sheer joy at the idea of keeping Astarion in line was thick in his voice.

“You tortured us,” Astarion said, voice thick, pulling from his chest, nearly catching in his throat, “for days at a time.”

Sekh felt a twin burn and chill, in his body. The heat of shadows, to the left, the child of death, to the right. If Astarion so much as looked at him with permission, he would tear each bone from this skeleton, grind each one to dust individually, and let the bastard’s screams serenade the halls. But he couldn’t act, despite the sheer desire to, without Astarion’s blessing.

It wasn’t his place to determine a punishment here. It was Astarion’s.

“And oh, how you sang so sweetly for me.” If bones could shudder, Godey would have. “None of the others screamed like you did, little one. None of them broke as perfectly as you. But-” the skeleton paused, glanced past Astarion, empty eye holes quite obviously taking in Sekh, Karlach, and Shadowheart. “You’re home now. And you’re brought me a little treat.”

Faster than Sekh thought possible, Godey moved, skeletal fingers gripping Sekh’s cheeks, pinching and forcing his head up, as the creature examined him.

“Naughty little one, breaking the Master’s rules.” Sekh knew he was studying the healing marks, on his neck- the now speckling of tiny scars that melted in with his freckles. “Since the Master needs you and I cannot have you sing for me now, I’ll just make this one learn our favorite songs.”

He squeezed tighter, and Sekh reached up, left hand grabbing the bones of Godey’s wrists. He squeezed, shadows escaping him, twining up along Godey’s arm, as the shadows on his face danced wildly, began to creep down his neck, along the curve of his shoulder.

“Take your hand off me,” Sekh said, voice a rumble. Godey released him, stumbled back as he ripped his wrist from Sekh’s hold, the shadows dissipating.

“Not very nice, not very nice at all.” Godey turned his head to look at Astarion, and Sekh caught a smile on his vampling’s face.

It made him bristle with pride.

“Why are you here then, if not to see Godey?”

Astarion inhaled slowly. “We’re here to see the Master.” The word put a bad taste in Sekh’s mouth- more so to hear Astarion speak it. “But the ballroom door is locked. Give us the key.” He flashed a toothy, playful smile.

Godey laughed. It was a death rattle, the wisps of what should have been a last breath, as life left a body. “You’re too late! The door is locked on the Master’s orders.”

“He cannot complete his ritual without me,” Astarion noted, “so I’ll ask again, nicely- give us the key.”

Still, Godey held firm. Astarion’s eyes flicked to Sekh, and it was enough. Sekh moved to the skeleton, shoving his left hand out and splaying it on his arm, sending a blast of shadows into him. Godey was thrown across the room, cracking against the wall in sharp metal tangs and the brittle rupture of bone. As he fell Karlach moved, placing her foot firmly on his chest, keeping him in place.

Sekh glanced over at Astarion. “Astarion?”

The vampire walked over slowly to the struggling creature. Whatever undead strength Godey had, it was no match for Karlach’s sheer might.

Astarion crouched down, reached for Godey’s chipped chin, forced him to turn and look at him. “I want to be the last thing you see,” Astarion growled, “and remember that I could have been nice.”

His eyes glanced at Karlach, before turning back to Godey. And without hesitation, the tiefling lifted her foot and brought it down with all her weight behind it, denting into the old, thin armor, shattering ribs. Godey shrieked, and Astarion let go of his chin, pulled his hand back as Karlach lifted her foot again-

This time bringing it down on his skull, the bone splintering upon impact. Within an instant Godey was nothing but a limp pile of weathered, brittle bones.

And the room was deathly silent again.

Astarion reached into his dented armor, poking around broken bone, before producing a ring.

“The Szarr crest,” he said, a look of disgust on his face. “Cazador’s key.” He stood up, walked to Sekh, and pressed it into his hand. “I don’t want it,” he whispered, and Sekh nodded, sliding it onto his middle finger, opposite hand of the ring he shared with Astarion. He’d hold the key as long as Astarion needed.

“That still leaves the dead language,” Shadowheart pointed out. “We can’t read it.”

“We were forbidden to learn it, but it wasn’t a rule,” Astarion pondered. “One of the other spawn may have been a bit naughty. We can check the dormitory.” He moved towards the door, seeming eager to leave the Kennels behind.

Sekh didn’t blame him.

They exited, and Sekh pulled the heavy door shut, hoping he would never have to open it again.

The dormitories were no more than a single room, six beds crammed within it, and a small room offset to the side for bathing. Sekh wondered if any of the spawn had seen privacy for a single moment after coming under Cazador’s command.

He doubted it.

They were quick to poke around, searching under pillows, blankets, beds- within chests and the two wardrobes. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Astarion sat on the edge of one of the beds, frowning. Thinking. He drummed his fingers on his thigh, as Karlach searched the bathing room for a second time. “There’s another room,” he admitted, “for Cazador’s favored spawn. He liked to induce some competition among us. Seemed to benefit him if we all had a touch of hate for each other.”

Sekh could see that Cazador had succeeded in that.

“It was almost always Leon’s room, since he arrived. But I guess if anyone were to be poking about under Cazador’s nose, it would have been him- or Dalyria.” He stood up, motioning for the group to follow. They entered the only other room in the dormitory hallway. The room was larger than the entire dormitory itself- boasted a small sitting area and two well kept beds.

Sekh began pawing through the books arranged on a shelf, but none of them seemed of use. He flipped through them to ensure he wasn’t missing something hidden in plain sight- but they were exactly as they appeared.

He turned, glancing past Karlach and Shadowheart as they searched- saw Astarion was standing by one of the beds, looking at it uncomfortably. He walked over, laid a hand on the vampire’s shoulder gently, glancing at the bed himself.

There was a well loved teddy bear, sitting by the pillow.

“He could have hidden it among his daughter’s things,” Astarion mused, his eyes looking sad. “Cazador left her alone- at least, he seemed to. Aside of what I overheard…” He swallowed. “I don’t know where she could be.”

Sekh frowned. They hadn’t seen a single sign of the child, since entering the palace. Which meant either she was outside its walls, was down below as a part of the ritual-

Or was already a casualty.

Astarion took a breath, steeling himself- but Sekh gently pushed him a step back. “I’ll look,” he said, “go make sure Karlach and Shadowheart aren’t missing anything.” Astarion held his gaze silently for a moment, before he nodded, his thanks silent but unneeded. He left Sekh, who reached out for the teddy bear, picked it up, giving it a few squeezes to ensure nothing was stuffed within.

He checked under the pillow, pulled back the blankets, even the sheets. Nothing. What he did note was that the bed was as chilled as the air in the room.

There hadn’t been a body within it for hours, at least. If not longer.

He got on his knees, checked beneath- found a few discarded books meant for a small child, but nothing more. They would have been for a child younger than Leon’s daughter was.

She had probably never gotten rid of them- either by her own choice, or Leon’s. After all, it wasn’t as if he had the freedom to simply go procure her the things a growing child would need.

He moved to the chest at the foot of her bed, but it was simply neatly folded clothing, an extra sheet. Nothing.

“We could bust the door down,” Karlach offered, as they all grouped back together, empty handed. “Magic be damned.”

“We don’t know what that would trigger,” Sekh pointed out, “and that magic was… something I’ve never felt. It might even withstand you.” She smiled at him, as Shadowheart folded her arms.

“That room at the base of the stairs- we haven’t checked there. At this point I think we have to- necrotic magic be damned.”

She was right, Sekh knew. But seeing Astarion’s eyes flit to a buried panic over the thought of being back in that room-

He couldn’t do that to him.

“I’ll do it,” he said, “you three go back to the door, try to find any way we might be able to break it down if needed.”

“That magic is going to drain you,” Shadowheart pointed out, frowning deeply. “If I stay, I might be able to shield you. At least, slightly.”

The drow shook his head. “It’s more important you stay with Karlach and Astarion, in case of trouble. I’ll be alright- necrotic magic doesn’t hit me as hard as it does most.” He lifted his hand, flexed his fingers, showing off the translucent green tendrils that curled around his fingers, as he called at the chill along his spine- the magic in his veins. He wasn’t immune to it, but he would last longer than the rest of them.

Without waiting for further commentary, Sekh headed for the exit, making his way back to the stairwell. He paused at the door, as Karlach and Shadowheart moved up the stairs- knowing better than to try to convince him to change his mind.

He appreciated it.

But Astarion paused next to him, looking at the door. “It should be me,” he said, straightening his shoulders. Sekh reached up, dragged his knuckles along the vampire’s cheek- watched the fake bravado instantly deflate.

“No, it doesn’t need to be. You’re not alone in this, Astarion.”

The elf turned to face Sekh fully, grabbed the hand that had touched him, eyeing the signet ring Sekh now wore.

“I’m not giving it back to you,” Sekh said, “because a little magic and a room isn’t going to eat me alive. Go upstairs, make sure if Karlach decides to take her axe to the door it won’t implode, and I’ll be there shortly.” Astarion glanced back at the door, and Sekh reached for him, got his hands on his waist, held gently as he leaned in, pressed a kiss to his temple. “Remember what I told you last night?”

The vampire closed his eyes, gave a single, small nod. Astarion hadn’t repeated the words to Sekh- but Sekh hadn’t confessed just to be loved back. He’d meant it.

He’d meant it for far longer than he’d ever thought possible.

“I’m going to poke about and I’m going to find a way into that ballroom. Then I’m going to come upstairs, and we’re going to face Cazador together. This is going to end today, and I swear, you won’t be without me for a single moment of it.” He pressed his forehead to Astarion’s temple, closed his own eyes. “I love you, and I will protect you with my very soul. You’re not alone anymore, Starshine.”

Astarion swallowed thickly, but before he could speak, Sekh pulled back, nodded towards the stairs behind him, whispered, go. The vampire hesitated for a moment, before he steeled himself, turned and hurried up the stairs to catch up with Karlach and Shadowheart.

Sekh took a deep breath, then moved for the door, opening it and stepping into the room. The air was heavy, made him feel as if boulders were strapped to his back, shackles to his ankles. But he could manage, which is what mattered.

The room was extravagant, but otherwise itself ordinary. A large bed took center stage, and Sekh wanted to bare his teeth at it like an animal. Tear into it for the horrid memories it held for Astarion- and he was sure, even the other spawn.

What was far more intriguing than the room itself was the girl, collapsed just past the door itself. Sekh could feel the magic radiating from her- the source of the necrotic weave.

He walked to her, crouched down and touched her neck. Her skin was long cooled, her pulse not even a memory. Dead.

She could have been the right age to be Leon’s daughter, if Sekh had to guess. He had no idea what the girl looked like, and didn’t have the time to search her for anything personal that might identify her.

She would have to remain nameless, for now.

He stood up, head spinning a little, chest tight. He moved away from her quickly, prying open a wardrobe, a chest, sifting through fine looking clothes that seemed more costume than attire. Pretty things to doll the spawn up in.

He moved to the other end of the room, pulled open drawers on an elaborate dresser. Tucked within was a hand written journal. Sekh flipped it open, but noted it seemed less personal and more clinical. As if someone had been categorizing their vampirism into symptomatic lists- studying it.

He set it down, turned away, opened another small armoire. He pushed at the top shelf, pushing aside a box that sounded as if it had jewelry in it, when his hand touched the spine of a book. He pulled it out, the cover so well worn the title was barely legible.

He flipped it open, and felt his pulse pick up. The words resembled the writing on the door. Not wanting to hesitate, he clamped the book shut and hurried from the room, sucking in a deep, aching breath when he was away from the magic. His head spun as he hurried up the stairs, but he didn’t have time to allow himself more than that one breath.

At the door to the ballroom, he caught Karlach kicking it angrily, as Shadowheart was studying the words. Astarion was watching Karlach, but not stopping her. So much for ensuring she didn’t accidentally blow them all heavens high.

“I found this,” Sekh said, hurrying over, holding out the book. Shadowheart took it, examining the words on the first page and those on the door.

“It’s got to be the same language,” she said, “just- give me a moment, let me get my bearings.” Sekh nodded. Of the four of them, Shadowheart was the most equipped to try to learn the language on the fly.

It took a few minutes, but she was able to piece together what the door said- thanks to scribbled notes, along the side of the pages. She spoke the words aloud, as Sekh pressed the signet ring on his finger into the slot- and with a ground trembling creak, the ballroom doors slowly swung open.

The ballroom inside was deathly silent. Carefully they stepped in, each step on the floor seeming to ring louder than temple bells. “Over here,” Astarion said, cringing at the way his voice broke the silence. “Cazador’s study is this way- we were strictly forbidden from entering, so there may…be…”

The words trailed off as they crossed the threshold, noting the large, antique elevator set off in an enclave, before the proper opening of Cazador’s study.

Karlach moved first, walking right onto the old metal, giving it a stomp and determining it was sound.

“What in the hells is this?” Astarion muttered, stepping on himself. There were scuff marks all along the metal- it had quite obviously been used well, over the years. “I never… we weren’t allowed in here… I didn’t know.”

Karlach placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him, as Sekh and Shadowheart stepped on. It seemed they were simply going to have to see where it took them.

*

Down below the palace, the crypt that greeted them was far grander than Sekh could have imagined. Dalyria calling it a chapel felt like a crime against its creation.

Astarion had gone deathly silent, eyes large, taking in every detail he could. To think this had been beneath him for two centuries-

Sekh could barely fathom the shock.

The golden bracketed doors shimmered with magic- similar to that of the ballroom door. On a whim, Sekh pressed the signet ring into a small slot of one, and it opened on old, worn hinges.

Beyond the doors was a private room- small, smaller than the favored spawn bedroom they had found. It boasted a bed, a desk, and a small raised dias, scattered with papers-

And an old, weathered skull. Sekh walked over to it, touched his fingers to the crown of its head- and felt a spike, inside his consciousness. He grimaced, and whatever had broken into him spread like a wildfire, throughout the group- using the tadpoles as conduits.

There was a voice, in Sekh’s head- one he didn’t know. The air about it was royal, well spoken and firm. He held his head, cracked open an eye and glanced at Astarion-

But the man was watching the skull intently, as if everyone else in the room had disappeared. As the voice spoke of rules, of consequences- Sekh could see a picture, being painted in his head. Memories.

A man, throat torn open, and the taste of metal on his tongue. Another man Sekh didn’t know stared with intent red eyes- the anger palatable- but the stains on his cheeks, they spoke of sadness.

The same man, impaled, down in these crypts. His blood running fresh along a golden spike, as pale, delicate fingers trailed through it, bringing them to lips that were a stranger’s and Sekh’s, all at once. There was a joy, building in his chest, as the blood sank into his tongue- a word, repeating, over and over and over.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

And then a sudden burning sensation, in his body, as if he could feel his skin being split, his blood flowing from his organs, every vein. And those same red eyes from before, looking elated, as Sekh could feel the life slipping through his very fingers.

He stumbled back a step, when the presence suddenly dissipated. As it did so, the skull’s jaw relaxed, a yellowed scroll slipping from its hold. Astarion was there, lifting it, unrolling it-

And anger, filling his face. “Even his precious rules,” he muttered, “he stole them.” Astarion turned to the party. “That was Cazador, you saw. He hasn’t changed since before even my creation.”

Sekh reached for the skull, and Astarion let it go. Atop the list of rules- rules that sounded far too similar to what Astarion had previously listed as Cazador’s, was a name, scrawled in a delicate hand.

Vellioth.

Sekh set the scroll down, turning away from the room. It felt like a small prison, a tomb, chilled beyond death- with nothing of true comfort. Had this been where Cazador tucked himself away? Was this his true reprieve from the palace above?

Sekh almost felt sorry for him- would have, perhaps, if a churning anger in his gut over the torment the man had inflicted upon Astarion wasn’t so hot.

“Who was Vellioth?” Sekh asked, as they moved quickly out of the room.

“I don’t know,” Astarion said with a single shake of his head. “Whatever came before me, Cazador didn’t speak of it. But…” he paused, licked his lips, mulling his thoughts over. “Judging by those… visions, he may have been the one to turn Cazador.”

Sekh didn’t say a word, mulling over the endless cycle of torment it seemed these lords were apt to drag their spawn into. How far back did it go?

He pushed the thoughts aside- unimportant, in that moment. He needed to stay focused- Astarion needed him to stay focused.

They paused at another door, and Sekh pressed the ring into it. Just like the others, it slowly opened for them- instantly assaulting them with a smell of rot, of stale air and dirt.

Astarion grimaced, but they soldiered on, heading into the next room. However, only a few paces in, they were slowing, looking around in sheer shock, laced with terror.

There were golden plated cells, lining the room- filled with prisoners. They watched the party with glowing, yet nearly dead eyes, and Sekh felt the marrow in his bones icing over.

“Astarion,” he said softly, pausing in front of one cell, taking in the wretched state these beings were in. “What is this?”

“I… have no idea,” he admitted, his voice soft, shell shocked just like the rest. “Gods who are all of these… no.” He moved past Sekh quickly, grasped one of the golden bars, as a human man lifted himself from where he sat on the ground, moving with purpose towards Astarion. His sandy blond hair was long, unkempt, tangled with bits of dirt and- could that be blood?

Sekh could only assume.

“You. I know you.”

Sekh could see Astarion’s shoulders shake. “You’re dead.”

Astarion’s words went ignored. The man stopped so close to the cells that he was only a single movement from touching Astarion. “I remember you. You smiled at me, got me drunk in the tavern.”

Sekh felt his stomach sinking.

“Sebastian.” Astarion said the name with a reverence that made something inside Sekh utterly ache.

“You remember.”

Astarion swallowed thickly. His voice caught in his throat as he spoke. “You were shy- you’d never been kissed.”

“You taught me how. And then you destroyed me.” He man grabbed at the bars, nearly caught Astarion’s hands, as the elf stumbled back a step, nearly losing his footing. Sekh rushed to him, caught his shoulders and kept him upright, as Astarion kept his eyes locked on the cell. “How long has it been? How long have I been down here?”

Astarion closed his eyes when he answered, “One hundred and seventy years. You were one of my first.”

The man bared his teeth- and Sekh could see the points of his fangs. He turned to Astarion, as his lover opened his eyes, before glancing away-

As if he couldn’t dare to meet Sekh’s gaze.

“I know them,” he admitted, “now that I can truly see them. They’re my… conquests. Every wretched, poor soul stupid enough to trust me, to fall for a flirty line or an eager kiss…” He trailed off, before he pulled away from Sekh’s hold. “I thought Cazador was feeding on them- but he turned them to spawn. He turned them all to bloody spawn. And gods below, to keep Sebastian…”

He reached up, covered his mouth. Sekh wanted to reach for him, but even as he lifted his hand Astarion shifted away. He let it drop, instead turned to the cell, walked closer. He could see etchings in the skin of most of the victims- the decrepit spawn- varying in location. Sebastian's was along his jaw.

“They have runes, like you,” Sekh whispered.

“Did Cazador tie them all to his ritual?” Shadowheart asked. Next to her, Karlach was stone silent, eyes burning.

“He must have,” Astarion managed, sounding as if he had moved a few paces back, closer to the center of the room. As far from this horror of his making as he could.

“We’re here to kill the bastard,” Sekh said, reaching out to the cell. He carefully placed his hand over one of Sebastian’s, which were gripping so tightly his already pale knuckles had gone bone white. “We’re going to unmake Cazador.”

“You can’t.” The fire in his voice dropped, making him sound hollow.

“We can,” Sekh pushed, squeezing the hand below his gently. “Astarion is free of his command. We’re going to stop the ritual and we’re going to kill him.”

“And then what of us?” The hopelessness in Sebastian’s voice was so thick it could choke Sekh. “What does that mean for us?”

Sekh didn’t know. He just knew he couldn’t let them sit here, rotting for eternity, into nothing but dust and dismay. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and the hand below his pulled away, as Sebastian took a step back.

“Whatever you’re going to do, just do it quickly. I can’t go on waiting any longer.”

Sekh stepped back, felt Karlach’s warm hand on his back, urging him towards what had to be the final door. He moved to it quickly, Astarion waiting there, looking eager to get far from this room.

“That wretched bastard,” Astarion muttered, “he kept them all. I should have known he never could have fed that much.” He closed his eyes, took a steadying breath. “They’ve been dead for so long.”

“They’re not dead,” Sekh said, even if he knew they were, technically. “We can help them.”

“Help them?” Astarion turned, looked at him with burning eyes. “There is no help for them. They’ll have no control over their hunger- they’ll be ravenous, mad. Best they just…”

Be put out of their misery.

Yet Astarion didn’t say it.

“You learned to control your hunger,” Sekh pointed out. Astarion scowled.

“Yes, but I had… help. Unless you’re going to take over parenting seven thousand spawn, there’s nothing we can do. Besides, they have to die.” His lips curled then, that same, ugly smile Sekh had seen creeping along his otherwise handsome face, since Raphael had revealed the truth. “If I want to ascend, they’ll all have to burn with Cazador.”

“You cannot be serious,” Sekh breathed, knowing that Karlach and Shadowheart were only a pace away, catching snippets of their conversation. “Astarion you cannot still want to do this.”

“And why not?” The vampire lifted his chin. “After two hundred years of pure shit, I deserve more. I would never have to fear anyone, ever again. Nor would you.” He reached out, brushed his fingertips along Sekh’s cheek. They felt colder than usual. “I’d meet the sun everyday without fear of becoming a Mindflayer. You and I- we could have everything, then. Don’t you want that?”

Sekh reached up, pulled Astarion’s hand away from his cheek. “No,” he admitted, and watched the smile on Astarion’s face drop. “I have everything I need already. I have you. You- exactly as you are now. I have no interest in loving a godly abomination, Astarion. I would’ve hoped you’d know that about me already.”

Blindly, Sekh reached out, nearly slammed his fist into the door, the signet ring slotting into place. The door opened, and Astarion turned away from him, facing the large ritual space.

Sekh could only hope Astarion wouldn’t lose sight of himself, at the end of this. He had to trust the man he loved to do the right thing.

They descended the stairs, the dias coming into full view- the other spawn were suspended, paralyzed in the same red magic that had crackled along the ballroom door. And standing in the center, a god amongst his own personally crafted hell, was Cazador.

The visions Sekh had seen in the vampire’s chambers didn’t do him justice. He was imposing, carried himself as if he was gold plated steel. As if he was holier than thou.

As if he was already a god, and this was just a mere practicality.

“Is this truly our prodigal son, standing before us? Crawling back home?” His voice echoed in the vast chamber, felt like it could rattle Sekh’s bones. It wasn’t deep but serpent like in the way it coiled along his nerves.

Astarion’s lip twitched, his shoulders hunching slightly. He was coiled tight.

Cazador frowned. “Do not slouch before me, boy!” The force behind his voice would have had Sekh staggering back a step, were he simply not so bloody determined to not give even an inch to this bastard. “Have you no respect for yourself? For what I made you? You should be groveling, begging our forgiveness for abandoning your family!”

Sekh ground his teeth, fought to keep himself from launching at Cazador, to keep himself from screaming in sheer rage at him.

“Forgiveness?” Astarion asked, “You’ve never forgiven anything! In two hundred years, every perceived slip, every mistake you fabricated was punished. You’ve never forgiven a single breath.”

Cazador looked nothing beyond bemused at the outburst. “They told me you had changed. I dared not believe it.” His mouth quirked into a smirk, the point of one long fang visible. “But you cannot change what you truly are, my boy, my little one.”

Astarion went paler than death. Sekh flexed his hands, began pulling on magic and shadow. The moment he had Astarion’s blessing, he was going to tear into this man and enjoy plucking his every nerve to make him howl.

“I made you what you are, Astarion. You will never be anything more.”

Astarion fisted his hands. “No, fuck you, and fuck everything you ever did to me.” He charged, fist pulled back- but before he could make contact, the air around Cazador crackled, sanguine tendrils snaking around Astarion’s fist, his arm, keeping him firmly in place.

“Oh little one,” he cooed, “you truly forgot my power. Did you think it was only our bond as spawn and master that kept me above you?”

There was such thick insinuation in the words that Sekh wanted to vomit.

Cazador reached for Astarion’s fisted hand, uncurled his fingers. Astarion looked ready to snap his jaws like an untrained dog at the touch. “What is this trinket, boy?” Cazador plucked the ring off his finger, holding it up to examine, as if he had not a care in the world. “Pathetic, dying magic.”

He turned his eyes to Sekh then, and the drow swore Cazador’s eyes were eating him whole, alive, bones and all.

Sekh knew, from the flicker in his eyes, he could smell, sense the same magic on the ring he wore.

“How sweet,” Cazador said, the word sounding foul, from his mouth. “Did you think you found a happily ever after with cattle, my boy? Are you not better than paltry magic and dark dwelling harlots?”

In a swift motion, Cazador threw the ring. It hit the dias once, bounced- and then the sound was gone. It had fallen off the side, into the abyss below.

“Did you think you could run from me and build a sad little existence without me?” He paced around Astarion then, his eyes locked on Sekh. “He reeks of you, boy. Did you plan to breed cattle like a bitch in heat and fill the realms with your own precious little spawn?”

He jerked his staff, and Astarion lifted violently into the air, his armor tearing from him, until he was half naked, those scars on his back glowing. Another flick of Cazador’s wrist, his staff, and Astarion was cast into light, with his brothers and sisters.

The moment the crimson light lit Astarion’s skin, Sekh was moving. He threw himself at Cazador, grabbing at his robes, pouring sheer concentrated necrotic magic from his core at him.

The vampire shoved him away, such force behind the move that Sekh crashed onto the ground, rolled until he nearly reached the edge of the dias. As he lifted his head he saw Karlach charging, screaming in infernal rage as she swung her great axe towards Cazador. Shadowheart was casting radiant light around them, as the undead that had flanked their master began to move.

Sekh pushed himself up. He wanted to go for Cazador, to tear at his throat- but he couldn’t bear to leave Astarion suspended in that hellish magic. He couldn’t risk everything being aligned for Cazador’s ritual.

He launched himself towards Astarion, running to cross the dias. One of the ghouls reached for him, tore at his robes, but Sekh was able to keep his flesh away from those claws, even as fabric tore. He charged harder, punching his left fist into the next ghoul, sending it back a step.

Just enough space for him to open his palm and unleash Syl’s shadows. They hit the ghoul with such force that he launched off the dias, falling to his death.

Sekh stumbled up the steps to Astarion, reaching up into the magic. He grasped at the elf’s bare waist, and with all his body weight he pulled. Astarion lurched forward, as Sekh fell onto his back, the vampire sprawling on top of him.

“I have you,” Sekh managed, his voice breathless, Astarion’s weight pushing the air from his lungs. Astarion scrambled up, and without a word or a moment of hesitation, ran towards Karlach and Cazador, pulling at the daggers still sheathed at his thighs.

Sekh pushed himself up, only to be grabbed by a wolf-like man, claws tearing into his ribs, pushing at his skin. He writhed as it lifted him up, could smell the carrion on its breath, the sheer heat from its insides.

“Reeks of spawn,” it said, “just like Master said.” It nosed at Sekh’s neck, gave a shuddering breath, and Sekh elbowed it in the throat. The creature choked, but gripped together, nails digging into skin now, little beads of fresh blood welling up beneath Sekh’s robes. “Eat you whole,” it mused, even as Sekh tried to kick it in the gut.

He reached for its throat, but the creature threw him back to the ground. Sekh sprawled on his back for the third time, shoulders aching from the impact. Around him there was screaming- shrieks of the undead, Karlach’s rage fueled screams, Cazador’s laugh.

And yet, over it all, he swore he could hear each of Astarion’s breaths, the man’s own growls of frustration, of rage.

Sekh reached out with his left hand, pulled hard on Syl’s shadows. He felt them shifting on his face, felt them beginning to burn, dragging down his neck, his shoulder, as he sent a blast into the lycan. It stumbled back, well into a ghoul and knocked it off balance.

Sekh stood, took advantage of their stumble, and sent another blast at them- leaving them careening over the edge, falling into nothingness.

He glanced at his hand as he turned, noticed the shadows were twining within his skin, along his fingers, his palms, the back of his hands- he hadn’t seen Syl’s shadows take this much of him in a long time.

He turned just to see Cazador burst into glittering, crimson mist, Astarion’s dagger going directly through it as if he was only air. It flitted away quickly, faster than any of them could move-

And then he materialized, directly in front of Sekh.

“Curious,” Cazador said, before he grasped Sekh by the throat, lifted him up into the air, as if he was nothing but a child’s ragdoll. “I see nothing about you that should be different from the thousands the boy has bedded before.” He turned, holding Sekh higher, his air choking from his lungs. Cazador grinned wickedly at the party, who were frozen, still coiled and ready to leap at him- but unmoving, while he could at any breath crush Sekh’s windpipe.

Sekh reached up, curled his hand around Cazador’s wrist, poured every ounce of necrotic magic in his body into him. He pulled from the cracks in his spine, from his very marrow-

And the man didn’t even blink.

Sekh felt his heart sinking into his gut.

“Now, boy,” Cazador said, directing his eyes back to Astarion. “Be good and go back to your place. I’ll drain him quickly if you do- and you won’t live long enough to remember it.”

“You son of a bitch,” Astarion snarled, his eyes looking wild, rabid. 

Cazador tutted. “Such disrespect. I taught you better. You used to say please for me- used to thank me.” Sekh gritted his teeth, black spots dotting his vision. The look of shame that crossed Astarion’s face turned his vision red though, despite the lack of oxygen.

Sekh screamed mentally for Syl- but instead of her presence felt a sudden burst of fire, within him. For a moment he didn’t know what it was- she had always come when he called, when he needed her most-

But as the fire snaked through him, sent his skin to tingling, he realized it was everything she had to give him. It was the full extent of her shadows that she could pry from herself and gift to him.

It was more power than he’d ever felt in his life.

Sekh bared his teeth, reached out with his left hand, and screamed brokenly as he grasped at Cazador’s face, dug his blunt nails into his skin. Shadows erupted from not just his palm, but his entire body, snaking around Cazador, tightening, burning. The vampire yelled- but released Sekh, dropped him as he staggered back, one hand reaching for his face.

Sekh caught himself, watched as Karlach and Astarion lunged at the opportunity, rushing Cazador. Shadowheart stayed a step back, hands bathed in a golden moonlight, calling it down in perfectly symmetrical rays, dotting the dias with them.

Sekh held onto the power flowing through him, firing wave after wave of shadow at Cazador. The vampire would dodge one, only to have to sidestep a ray of Shadowheart’s light, and then pull away from Karlach’s heaving axe.

Astarion got a good slice into his side, during the first dance. And then across his lower back, with the next few steps. Cazador was getting just a tick slower.

Sekh stepped into one of Shadowheart’s rays of light, uncaring as it burned his skin, curling his hands as he wrapped the shadows around Cazador’s neck, squeezing. The man stumbled, and Sekh watched as Astarion drove a blade directly into his side, twisting it as he snarled.

Cazador went down onto one knee. Sekh tightened his hold, his shadows creeping up along Cazador’s face, pushing at his mouth, wanting to delve into his lungs. Choke his dead breath out of him from the inside.

It was only then that he heard his name, whispered in horrific awe, from Shadowheart. He glanced at her, before looking at his own hands-

The shadows covered both, writhed and twined within his skin. Could he see himself, he’d realize that his left eye was no longer just black along his iris, but the entire eye- little black tendrils creeping along the white of his right eye as well.

The shadows were consuming him.

Sekh took a breath, and with a rage at himself for not being able to properly contain them, pulled back his hold from Cazador. He pushed at the shadows in his mind, felt them receding slowly, the burning beginning to fade to the simple, buzzing warmth he was used to, when he used Syl’s magic.

He jerked himself from Shadowheart’s light, as Cazador grabbed at Astarion, was ready to pull himself up- when the spawn smacked the butt of his dagger directly into his nose, shattering cartilage. Cazador’s head jerked back, and Astarion kicked him directly in the chest, sent him sprawling back a few paces, sliding through Shadowheart’s light to burn his skin.

Cazador’s staff separated from his hand, rolling a pace away. As he went to reach for it Astarion leapt closer, landing with his foot on his old Master’s wrist, grinding bone. Cazador yelled, and Astarion loomed over him, looking down at him with a grin that seemed beyond even devilish.

“Get off me, you worm,” Cazador snarled.

“Worm? I’m not the one in the dirt.” Astarion ground his boot into Cazador’s fractured wrist, quite obviously reeling as the other vampire grimaced. He bent down, reaching for the ornate dagger still sucked as Cazador’s side, lifting the twisting, vile blade into the magical light of the chapel.

Cazador thrashed, but Astarion acted as if it was nothing but a bug trying to move beneath him. Sekh could only reason that Cazador had put so much energy into holding the ritual together that he was now completely drained.

“One last thrust,” Astarion mused, turning the dagger in the light, “and I’ll be free of you.” He inhaled deeply. “I’ll never have to fear you again.”

He was so close to freedom, to breaking the chains that had shackled, choked him for nearly two centuries. Sekh’s heart was pounding, but something was twisting in his belly, sick and uncomfortable at the look in Astarion’s eyes.

“But if I finish the ritual you started,” he continued, his voice pulling from his chest, his lips curling back into that ugly smile that Sekh could see in nightmares. “I won’t have to fear anything ever again.”

Shadowheart whispered his name, alarm on her face- but Astarion was in a world far beyond them, it seemed. Everyone but he and Cazador had melted away.

“Do you think me a fool?” Cazador spat, as he tried to move. Astarion kicked him in his chin, before moving his foot back to his broken wrist. Cazador’s head jerked back, an unneeded breath escaping him, blood rushing from his mouth where he’d bitten his own tongue.  “You pathetic child,” Cazador growled, “you cannot replace me! You are nothing Astarion- you have never been anything.”

“I’m the one above you now,” Astarion pointed out, before he stepped back. Cazador managed to scramble up to his knees, eyes darting to the staff that was just out of reach. Then, with a look of sheer glee, “Even now, you’re on your knees.”

“A place you know well.” Cazador bit each word out with bared fangs. “Do you think I would let anyone ascend in my place? You’re bound to this ritual boy, through the runes on your back. Attempting to usurp me is suicide.” That mouth curved into a smile then, as if Cazador had backed Astarion into a corner. “You were always a means to an end- and if you ever believed a single honeyed lie I told you otherwise, you are more pathetic than I ever thought. I made you to be consumed.”

“I am so much more than what you made me.” Astarion turned then, eyes finding Sekh’s, allowing him into the private world he’d constructed around he and his old Master. “I can do this, but I need your help.”

“Didn’t you hear him? You’ll be consumed if you complete the ritual. It’s suicide, Astarion.” Even as he said it, Sekh felt like the words were hollow. If the vampire felt there was a way around his own sacrifice, Sekh believed it would work.

“Trust me,” Astarion said, something that Sekh did. “I know what I’m doing.”

“You’d kill everyone, Astarion.” All his kin- the other six, the thousands of souls Cazador had kept over the years.

Astarion frowned, brows knitting together. “They all died years ago. There’s nothing left but feral spawn in those cages- trust me. They’re as good as dead already. Now,” he straightened, “use the parasite- link your mind to mine. I’ll be able to see my scars through your eyes, and carve them into his back.”

Sekh took a single step back. Astarion knew how much he hated using the parasite- that having another presence pulling in his mind was almost unbearable, considering he already had Syl. He had only used it precious few times, to share what he could otherwise never show the elf.

And yet, Astarion had asked.

“If they’re freed,” Astarion added, sensing Sekh’s trepidation. “Imagine how many deaths will be on our heads. But if they die for a purpose, I’ll have everything I ever lost back. I’ll be able to walk in the sun without fear of becoming a Mindflayer. I’ll be free, truly, completely free. Isn’t that what you want?”

Yes, it was what Sekh wanted. He wanted Astarion to be free of the torment Cazador had inflicted on him. But he wanted him to be free of the regret, the fear, the endless turmoil that had built within him, over the near two hundred years.

This would never free him of that.

“I want you to be able to live with yourself, Astarion.” Sekh forced himself to take a step closer, even if his gut feared the man he was looking at, in that moment. It didn’t drown the fact that he loved him, still. That Astarion was still there, beneath this palpable, coursing fear. “I want you to be proud of who you are, of the life you live. Could you live with this? Could you stand yourself knowing you became exactly what Cazador always was?”

Astarion paused then. Sekh held his stare, and watched as those eyes softened, slowly. The smile fell from Astarion’s face, and Sekh wished so badly he could see whatever was reeling behind those eyes.

“You’re right,” Astarion said, softer now. “I can be better than him, more than him.” He turned then, quickly, the smile coming back- yet different. The same smile Astarion got during a good bloodbath, but still rang true of the man Sekh had come to know, over these past few months. “But I’m not above enjoying this.”

Before Cazador could even lift his hands, Astarion was on him, grabbing him by his hair and jerking his head back. The blade slipped cleanly into his chest, as Astarion stabbed him with enough force to shatter bone. The vampire pulled back, stabbed again, and again, and again, as Cazador convulsed, blood spraying Astarion’s pale skin, pooling around his old Master.

With a yell Astarion flipped the blade, released Cazador’s hair as the man slumped to the ground. Astarion sank it into him again, the blade sinking into his gut, skewering long dead organs. Each shuddering breath was a cry, until Cazador was unmoving except for the constant flood of his stolen blood, rushing from his body.

Astarion stumbled back a step, dropped the blade. He gasped for breath, a broken sound escaping him, before he fell down to his knees, staring at Cazador with eyes that seemed lost. He looked terrified.

Sekh moved, as Astarion wailed, like a glass man shattering. He dropped to his knees, threw his arms around the vampire, held him tight as his body was wracked with sobs.

“I have you,” Sekh whispered, holding so tight it could have hurt, yet Astarion didn’t try to pull away. He turned, pressed his face into the crook of Sekh’s neck, tears soaking into his robes. “Gods I have you, Astarion.”

Sekh rocked slightly, as the magic in the room began to fade, with the last of Cazador’s running blood. Slowly the other six spawn were released, stumbling to catch their balance as their feet hit the cold stone. They looked around, before slowly moving towards Astarion.

“Is it… is it over?” Dalyria asked, eyes darting to Cazador’s bled dry body, and then to Astarion, still securely in Sekh’s arms. Sekh glanced up at her, and watched as the glow in her eyes faded.

The death of Cazador’s thrall-hold, over her. Over them all.

Astarion pulled himself from Sekh’s hold, stood up on shaking legs. His already chilled skin was littered with goosebumps now, from the cold crypt air. “Yes,” he breathed, “he’s gone.”

Sekh stood up, hurriedly opening his robes, as the rest of the spawn closed in, still a step further back than Dal dared. Sekh took his open robe and draped it over Astarion’s bare shoulders, watched the vampire clutch it with one hand, pull it tighter around him.

Sekh fought to keep from a single grimace, as the air rushed his wounds, the claw marks from the ghouls and lycans, the bruises forming along his dusky skin. He could endure it. Astarion needed a bit of comfort more, now.

“What does that mean for us?” Petras, sounding terrified. Looking petrified. Sekh softened, looking at all of them, despite their treatment towards Astarion, towards him. They were all victims, in the end.

“It means you’re free,” Sekh offered, when Astarion didn’t speak. Petras turned his gaze to the drow. “It means your choices are your own now- you can do as you wish.”

“Which sounds terrifying,” Astarion managed, straightening up more. “And it is. But there’s opportunity there. You can remain here and hide in the shadows- or you can be more than he ever meant for us.” Astarion glanced at Sekh then, and when the drow gave him a soft smile, he relaxed slightly. “Or you can choose differently, it is all up to you. But the consequences are your own as well.”

Dalyria smiled over that, seemed pleased, proud in a way. Sekh still felt she was different, than the others- and hoped maybe someday Astarion would shed light on that.

“And what does it mean for them?” Dalyria gestured into the dark, at the thousands of starving spawn. Astarion hummed then.

“Now that is a question.” He hesitated only a moment, before stooping down, picking up Cazador’s staff, looking at it. “They deserve the same chance I had- the same chance we all have now. They’re innocent.” Astarion slammed the butt of the staff into the dias, leaning on it, as the runes carved into the floor ignited. “I won’t let them rot in ruin just because I lured them here.”

Sekh didn’t think it was just for Astarion’s conscious, though. He knew each of the seven spawn were just a guilty as he- had brought Cazador just as many broken souls. Had condemned the same innocents to death.

He was releasing them all from that guilt.

The red light over took Astarion and the staff, for just a moment. When it went out, the sounds of endless cells opening, of voices rising from behind, below, echoed throughout the chamber.

They were free. Every last one of them was free.

“They’ll need guidance,” Sekh offered, as the light faded, Astarion sagging slightly, exhausted. Karlach moved up next to him, took the staff from his hands, as Shadowheart pressed a reassuring hand to his back. “Most of them won’t survive, but they deserve a fighting chance.”

“The Underdark,” Astarion said, and Sekh nodded.

“Take them to the Underdark. At least you won’t have to fear the sun there- and,” Sekh offered a smile to the spawn, “if they happen to feed on some Lolth loving fools, well- we’re better off.”

Astarion gave a single, breathy, exhausted chuckle. “Using my kin to cull out the spider bitch’s followers? Tactical.”

Sekh shook his head once, as the spawn began to move- listening, he hoped. For their own sake, and the sake of all the others.

He reached out, when Leon moved past them, gently touching the human’s arm. The man turned, looked at him- and for a moment, there was a flash of shame on his face. For everything he’d said about Astarion, to Astarion- and to Sekh, the previous night.

“Your daughter,” Sekh said softly, aching at the thought of the dead child he’d seen.

And Leon must have known, somehow, because he smiled. “I sent her away,” he said, as Astarion lifted his head, looked at him. “She’s safe. If you saw something that makes you think otherwise- know it was planned.” He turned his eyes to Astarion, and after a moment of hesitation, added, “I was wrong about you, Astarion. Very wrong.”

He gave a single nod, before he moved to follow the rest. Sekh turned to Astarion, took a step closer to him, reached up to cradle his cheek.

“I think we’re done here,” Astarion whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “He’s gone, let’s just go.” Sekh nodded, pulling his hand away and glancing at Karlach.

“Mind ridding us of that thing?” he asked, gesturing to the staff. She grinned.

“Oh with pleasure.” She hefted it high, before cracking it down on the ground. The wings of the ornate bat shattered off, before she turned on her heel and swung it into one of the stone structures on the dias. It snapped in half, and Karlach hurled the half she was holding into the distance, so it fell over the edge.

The other half followed quickly.

Sekh turned from the spectacle back to Astarion, pulling his robe tighter around him. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered, wanting to wrap himself up around the vampire and never let go. “You did the right thing.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Astarion managed, voice soft, aching, trembling. “Because I’m- I’m not so sure. I just feel… numb.” He glanced around, eyes locking on Cazador’s body. “Please, can we go.”

Sekh nodded, gently turned him around, towards the stairs. He paused for a moment, leaning over to Shadowheart, whispering into her ear, “Make sure he can never wake again.”

The cleric nodded, a determined smile on her face, and Sekh placed a hand to Astarion’s back, ascending the stairs with him. When they reached the top, Sekh heard the sound of Karlach’s axe cutting through flesh, bone, embedding in polished stone.

Astarion paused, eyes darting to Sekh. “It’s alright,” Sekh offered, “we’re just making sure that no matter what divine or infernal power wants to intervene, he can never come back.”

Astarion swallowed, nodded, and continued walking away from the chamber, and all the horrors and splendors it had ever promised.

*

It was dark, by the time they returned to the Elfsong. While Karlach and Shadowheart had taken care of Cazador’s body, Sekh and Astarion had been accosted by the Gur- waiting for them on the antiquated elevator.

Sekh was proud of Astarion, for how he handled them. The silence that seemed to overtake him, after the other spawn left, faded- and Sekh stood back, let the man speak for himself, as Astarion deserved. The Gur’s children were free, like the rest of the spawn. There could be hope, for them.

It was Astarion trying to right the wrongs he’d done, under Cazador’s enthrallment. It was Astarion trying to claim autonomy over his actions and their consequences.

He’d lapsed back into silence after, and even now remained quiet as Sekh pulled his robe off him, left it piled on the floor by the wooden tub, filled with steaming water. His eyes were far off, and while it made Sekh ache so deep inside him it felt like a new cavity had been discovered, he couldn’t blame Astarion for being in shock.

He’d be more alarmed if he wasn’t.

“Can I?” Sekh asked, hands resting at the waist of Astarion’s pants. The vampire gave a single nod, and Sekh worked open the lacing of his trousers, guiding his clothing carefully off his narrow hips, down his thighs.

Once he had Astarion naked, he helped him into the water. As he settled, Sekh could already see the water going pink, from all of the blood that stained Astarion’s skin.

Sekh carefully cupped water in his hands, wetting Astarion’s curls. Leaning against the tub dug into the bruises along his waist, but he ignored the ache. He’d get bandaged and cleaned up after Astarion was cared for. He could wait.

His vampling couldn’t.

“Okay?” Sekh asked, once Astarion’s hair was thoroughly wet. Another single, silent nod. Sekh lathered his hands then, worked suds into Astarion’s hair, gently scraped his blunt nails against Astarion’s scalp. He could feel the elf relax, slightly- just enough that Sekh knew he could register his touch.

He thought to hum a tune, softly, while cleaning his lover up. But Sekh’s mind drew a blank on any song he had ever heard- and then he questioned if he could even keep a rhythm. In the end, silence won, as he finished with Astarion’s hair and helped the vampire rinse the suds from his curls.

This time, as he leaned against the tub, bare arms sinking into the water as he worked soap along Astarion’s body, his touches were entirely innocent. As he worked along Astarion’s stomach, the vampire tipped his head back, rested his head against Sekh’s shoulder. From the corner of his eye, Sekh could see Astarion’s were shut.

He could feel his little breaths, against his ear, in his hair.

Astarion was still resting against him, quiet, when Sekh heard shuffling, around the privacy screen- and then Wyll, leaning around it, holding a bundle of folded clothes in his arms. Sekh smiled at him, pulled his arms from the tub and turned to kiss Astarion’s forehead, as the elf’s eyes fluttered open.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, as Astarion sat up, freeing him. Sekh stood, toweled his hands off quickly, before he stepped away from the tub, around the screen. “Thank you,” he whispered, taking the fresh clothes from Wyll. The last thing he wanted was to put Astarion back in bloodied, sweat drenched clothing.

Wyll gave him a nod, before glancing down his bare torso, frowning at the bruising and open gashes along his body. “You need to get cleaned up.”

“I will,” Sekh said, “I promise. Just let me take care of him first. Please.” Wyll’s face softened, and he nodded, taking a step back.

But before he turned to leave- “I’m proud of him.”

It made Sekh smile. He was too. So, so proud.

*

Once Astarion was clean, dried off, and dressed, Sekh walked him to their bed. As much as he didn’t want to, he left him there with the promise that he’d be back shortly- he just needed to get cleaned up.

He would have been fine to do it himself, but the moment Wyll saw him going through their medical supplies, the other warlock ushered him away, taking him to Halsin so the two of them could help. Sekh was glad they hadn’t tried to bring in Shadowheart- he wanted her to rest, as well. She’d exhausted herself with Cazador.

They all had.

Sekh bit his lip as Halsin’s large, warm hands cleaned the dried blood off his tender skin. He was mottled with bruises, and from the way Wyll clicked his tongue when he looked at his back and shoulders, they must have been worse.

They wrapped his waist carefully, covering the wounds, but after that Sekh waved them off. It was enough. Take that energy and use it to patch up Shadowheart and Karlach- he’d be fine for the night. He just wanted to get back to Astarion.

With a shared look, Halsin and Wyll let him go, and Sekh hurried back to Astarion’s side. He slowed as he reached the bed, noticed Astarion on his side, partially curled up, facing the wall. On the ground was the bottle that had held the last of their angelic reprieve, from Blurg what felt like centuries ago in the Underdark.

Sekh stooped down, grabbed the bottle and set it aside. He could see Astarion breathing softly, the gentlest rise and fall of his chest, shoulders- he was asleep. Truly asleep.

The drow grabbed their blanket, pulling it up over Astarion, tucking it in around his shoulders. He nosed at his damp curls, dared to kiss his temple softly. Below him, the vampire sighed.

Carefully, Sekh climbed into the bed- not stretching out with Astarion, but sitting, settling his back firmly against the wall. He’d keep watch over him all night, ensure that any nightmares that dared to rear their ugly heads within his mind were banished. He’d make sure that for a single night, Astarion could truly know rest.

As he rested his head against the wall, words from his very first night with Astarion echoed in his head- You sleep, I’ll keep watch.

It was lifetimes, eons ago, when the man was a stranger, nothing but writhing secrets and a lying, handsome smile. And yet Sekh had been drawn to him. Something inside him sang at the mere sight of Astarion, even then.

He closed his eyes, took a slow breath. He’d keep watch over Astarion for a lifetime, if the vampire needed it.

And even if he didn’t.

*

Astarion stirred as morning dawned, light seeping in through some of the windows. Sekh watched him press his face into the pillow, before his eyes fluttered open, thick silver lashes nearly hiding those pretty crimson eyes.

Sekh smiled, from where he sat, against the wall. “Good morning Starshine,” he whispered. Astarion rolled from his belly to his side, still fully tucked under the blanket, looking up at Sekh with sleepy eyes.

The drow felt his chest bursting.

“What are you doing?” Astarion managed to ask, his voice slow, groggy.

Sekh frowned. “Sitting?”

And oh the frustrated little huff Astarion gave him was adorable. “I can see that,” he mumbled. “But why?”

“Just keeping watch so you could sleep.”

There was a long moment of silence, before Astarion sat up, the blanket pooling around his waist. His curls were in sheer disarray, wild and whimsical.

He frowned, but it was more of a pout, and Sekh fought very hard not to chuckle. “I’m not so precious that I need you to keep watch,” Astarion pointed out, even if there was little force behind his voice.

“You’re so precious to me, though,” Sekh corrected- and even as he tried not to, Astarion’s lips began to curl into the softest of smiles. Sekh offered his hand, but Astarion ignored it. Instead he twisted the blanket with him, crawled into Sekh’s lap and sat with his back pressed to his chest, managing to get most of the blanket over them, trapping in their heat.

Sekh smiled, curled both his arms around Astarion’s waist, nosed at his hair. The vampire felt lax, in his arms- had a bit of heat from being wrapped up in the blanket, but not much. He hadn’t fed, the previous night- and Sekh could only imagine the hunger was clawing at him.

He released his hold with one arm, reaching a hand up from the blanket and silently offering a wrist. When Astarion didn’t move, Sekh kissed his curls, murmured, “you need it love.”

Astarion’s hands emerged from the blanket, held Sekh’s arm as he brought his wrist to his mouth. For a single moment there was just Astarion’s breath, against his pulse, and then the feeling of his lips, pressing to skin as his fangs sank in deep.

Sekh bit back a noise, a sharp ache radiating from the puncture wounds. When Astarion pulled back enough to remove his fangs, though, the ache faded, as it always did.

The drow felt Astarion’s tongue, pressing to the wounds- felt him tremble over the first true taste. He tightened his hold on Sekh’s arm, drank deep, and Sekh closed his eyes, head tipping back against the wall. He heard a small, pleased sound from Astarion, muffled into his wrist, and smiled to himself. He hugged Astarion with the single arm around his waist, felt the vampire’s tongue pushing hard at the wounds.

Sekh flexed his arm, encouraged the blood flow, even as he felt a sense of vertigo beginning to creep in. He didn’t care- he could handle being a little bloodless if it meant Astarion was comfortable.

Yet just as the dizziness began to sink its nails into his mind, Astarion lifted his head, sucked in a shaking breath. Sekh could feel his body warming already, the fingers clutching at his arm no longer chilled.

Carefully Sekh lifted his head, as Astarion dragged his mouth over his wrist one more time, collected the blood that had welled on those little puncture wounds. Then, carefully, he held the hand to his chest, cradled Sekh’s arm in his own, pressing it tight to him.

“You’re going to get blood on you,” Sekh whispered, as Astarion shifted slightly, settling.

“When has that been a concern?” The vampire tipped his head back, and Sekh could just see the color that had returned to his cheeks. “Honestly, I think it’s strange if we don’t have blood on us.”

Sekh chuckled. “Fair enough.” He let them lapse into silence for long minutes, could almost have drifted into a semi trance as he hadn’t rested the night before- when Astarion suddenly moved.

The vampire let go of the arm he was cradling, awkwardly shifted under the blanket, squirming about until he was facing Sekh, could straddle his thighs. The drow arched a brow, but before he could ask what he was doing, Astarion’s hands were on his face, cupping his jaw, thumbs rubbing along his cheeks.

The question died in Sekh’s throat as his heart quickened. Astarion looked at him, for a long moment, before he leaned in, placed a careful, almost tentative kiss to his lips. He pulled back, was only a breath away, before Sekh’s lips could even move.

Sekh thought his name, meant to say it- but before he could Astarion was back, surging against his mouth, kissing him with a sudden intensity that Sekh was dizzy, all over again. Astarion kept his hands on his jaw, fingers curling gently against his cheeks, mouth moving as if he wanted to devour Sekh.

Sekh reached out, got his hands on his waist, then his back, pulling Astarion closer. The vampire leaned into him, trembled when Sekh’s hands splayed on his back, over scars that felt warm, now. “What,” Sekh managed, between kisses, mind spinning as he could taste his own blood still on Astarion’s lips, tongue. “Are.” Another kiss, another lost breath. “You.” Another. “Doing?”

One final kiss, and Astarion leaned back, looking at Sekh with eyes he couldn’t read. Was that fear or elation? Excitement or terror?

“Just confirming something,” Astarion whispered. He pulled away then, pushed the blanket aside and stood from the bed, stretching. Sekh watched, could only wonder what was racing through the man’s head. “Best get up before we waste the whole morning,” he said, not looking back at Sekh, walking out into the large shared space, fingers working at his wild curls.

Sekh just watched, feeling enthralled, a smile he couldn’t even feel on his face.

*

It had been strange, to head into the city without Astarion. He’d had the vampire at his side since the moment their adventure had begun, with so few moments without his company. But he had been worried about him, despite that Astarion seemed in better spirits, that day.

Perhaps what was strangest was that Astarion hadn’t put up much of a fight- or any, for that matter. No snarky remarks about being left out of the fun, no following Sekh around batting his eyelashes, attempting to convince him to change his mind.

Just… acceptance.

It had left Sekh anxious, eager for the day to end. And while he felt in his gut it had been right to ensure Astarion got some rest, had time to come to terms with what he’d done- well, he didn’t have to like being away from him.

It was dark, by the time the party returned for the night. Sekh had been eager to strip of his robes, leave behind the sweat of the day- was still in the middle of redressing when he felt Astarion’s stare- never heard his footsteps, but simply knew.

A cool hand pressed to the small of his bare back, and then chilled lips, flitting a kiss on his freckled shoulder. Sekh smiled, glanced over as Astarion came properly into view. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back,” he admitted, reaching for the shirt Sekh had on the bed, offering it to him. “Once you’re dressed… there’s something I’d like to show you, if that’s alright?” Astarion cleared his throat, offered more quietly, “Something out in the city.”

Sekh pulled his shirt on, giving a nod. There was a bit of tension, on Astarion’s face- a nervousness, in his eyes.

“It’s not far, I promise.” He offered a hand, and Sekh took it, lacing their fingers together- watched Astarion’s eyes go so soft, so sweet, at the small gesture.

It truly wasn’t a long stroll through the evening streets, darkness in full bloom. Sekh wasn’t sure what he expected, but to be led away from the liveliness of the evening wasn’t it. Slowly the lights and sounds of the city seemed to melt away behind them, the backstreets they took basking in a silence that was thick, but not unpleasant.

Sekh nearly paused, when an old iron gate came into view. He could just see a few headstones, beyond it. A small graveyard, set off in what felt like a forgotten corner of the city- in a quiet world away from all of Faerŭn.

They stepped within the gates, moved past the first few headstones, back towards even older stones, scattered beneath an old tree. Astarion paused, a few paces from one, and Sekh didn’t need to read the name engraved on it to know who it belonged to.

“Nearly two hundred years,” Astarion whispered, hands flexing awkwardly at his sides, “and I never came back. Not since the night I woke up down there.” He took a slow breath, tore his eyes from the stone to look at Sekh. “I had to punch a hole in my coffin and claw my way through six feet of dirt. And then, when I finally broke the surface…he was waiting.”

Astarion hadn’t said Cazador’s name, since they’d been stopped by the Gur. Since they left the palace. The look in his eyes, it screamed that he feared so much as saying the man’s name could bring him back. But there was a sadness, pushing beyond that- a sadness that there was a truth to tell, his truth, still.

“He watched me retch dirt and congealed blood, put his hands on me and told me he could treasure me. From that day on, I was his.” A pause, a breath, and Astarion turned away, looked back at the grave. “Until today. Until this moment.”

“You were never his,” Sekh offered, daring to reach for Astarion, press a hand to his back. “Everything he took from you, he took by force. But you were never his.”

The sorrow in Astarion’s voice made Sekh hurt, between his ribs, down into his belly, creeping into his very soul. He knew what Cazador had taken, now. He knew the sordid details and the misery and the shame.

And he knew it would never happen again.

“But he did take it,” Astarion managed, the words catching in his throat- echoing words he’d said prior, in the dark of the Elfsong, confiding in Sekh as to the horrors Cazador had bestowed on him. “There’s almost nothing left of the person I was. Just a name on a rock.” Sekh pulled his hand back, as Astarion stepped towards the rock. There were vines, growing over it. Astarion reached for them, brushed them away, fingers trailing over the stone, over the etching of his own name.

The Elvish looked beautiful, so carefully scripted.

“For nearly two centuries I stalked the streets like a ghost, while the person I was lay here. Dead and buried.” A deep breath, and Astarion turned, offered out his hand. Sekh moved to him, took it, let the man pull him close, so that his body heat could warm Astarion. “Now,” he said, thumb rolling over Sekh’s ring, “I need to figure out who I am. What I want.”

He lifted Sekh’s hand, laid it on his cheek, closed his eyes as the drow cradled him gently. Sekh’s other hand found his waist, but it was Astarion that moved to press flush to him. “And what do you want?” Sekh asked, softly. “What does Astarion want?”

Those eyes remained closed for a moment, before they opened slowly. When they did, Sekh felt his heart utterly stop, before it burst into a battering rhythm, crashing into his ribs. Those eyes said a thousand words that Sekh would never dare have dreamed of, once.

“You,” Astarion whispered, turning slightly, pressing a kiss to Sekh’s palm. “I want…” a kiss to his wrist, “you.”

Sekh slid his hand back, fingers tangling into Astarion’s curls, as the vampire took the space between them, his breath, and kissed him. It was sweet, slow, but so deep that Sekh felt his head spinning. He clutched tightly at Astarion’s side, thinking if he let go, if he dared for even one moment, he’d slip away, and Sekh would tumble from the very face of the realms.

“You were by my side through all of this,” Astarion whispered, pressing his forehead to Sekh’s. “Through bloodlust, pain, misery, madness.” He closed his eyes, his hands pressing to Sekh’s chest, sliding up over his shoulders. “You were patient. You cared.” They opened again, a burning fire of rubies and honesty. “You trusted me… which was an objectively stupid thing to do- and yet, you did it anyway.”

Astarion leaned back in, pecked Sekh’s lips softly.

“I feel safe with you. Seen.” He swallowed, thickly, the words ringing true and yet almost terrified. “And whatever the future holds for me, I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”

Sekh smiled- and the moment he did, he saw stars burst in Astarion’s eyes, the entire night sky seeming to take up residence in a sea of red. “You won’t,” Sekh whispered. “Whatever comes next, I’ve got you. I will always have you, Starshine.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” The words were playful, ringing back to nights so long gone, before the first touch, the first kiss. Before this. Before them.

“Never, to you.” Sekh pressed his lips to the bridge of Astarion’s nose, kissed softly, felt a chuckle rising in the vampire. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Astarion pulled back then, and Sekh let him, even as he wanted to wrap him up in his very being. The vampire turned back to the grave, reaching for a dagger strapped to his thigh. “I should probably fix this.” He got down on his knees, and Sekh watched as he very carefully dug the blade into stone, etching his own update to his death- and his life- into the grave.

Sekh settled down on his knees, watched until Astarion set the blade aside, fingers brushing along the new words, brushing away flakes and dust from the old stone.

“I’ve been dead in the ground long enough. It’s time to try living again.” He turned his head to Sekh. “With everything life has to offer.”

Before the drow could breathe a word, Astarion was sliding closer to him, pulling him into his arms. He kissed him again, kissed him breathless now, deep and wanting, as if he was carving a story into Sekh’s very lips. Sekh trembled, held on, kissed back as if he’d simply die if he didn’t.

“And what does that mean?” Sekh managed, between kisses. Astarion moved from his mouth, kissed his jaw, then below his ear, hummed in delight at how easily Sekh moved for him, against him. That he was relaxed.

“If a night of passion is on offer,” he teased, “I could be persuaded.”

Sekh could hear the smile in his voice. “I never want to persuade you.”

A chuckle, a single kiss to his pulse. “Darling, you never had to. You…” Astarion paused, lifted his head. “Gods, I didn’t care for you, when we first met. Parading around as if you were ready to save the realm, that bleeding heart of yours threatening to drown us all. But…” he trailed off for a moment, smiled sweetly.

Nothing like the old smiles, from those first days. Raw, true, unpracticed.

“I do now. Being with you, it’s different. It’s about more than lust, about more than a transaction, determining how much of myself I need to give in order to get what I want, what I need. This goes beyond anything I’ve ever known. Beyond anything I remember. I look at you and I feel…”

He paused, chuckled at himself.

“That’s it, I feel. And I haven’t, in so, so long.” Another soft peck, Astarion’s next words whispered softer than the evening harbor breeze- yet sinking so deep into Sekh that they wove into his very marrow. “I love you.” Another kiss. “I love you.”

Another.

“I love this. And I want it all- I want everything. So long as there’s you.”

Astarion’s hands found Sekh’s face, cradled it softly, gave him another lingering kiss. As it ended, as Sekh let his eyes flutter open- gods, when had they shut?- the vampire smiled, all playful, coy, and moved his hands to his chest, splaying them and pushing. Sekh fell back, caught himself on his elbows, and watched the way Astarion grinned at him, silhouetted in moonlight.

Nothing like the smiles he’d seen, just before the ritual. All wicked, yes, but the sort that was playful, not wretched and all consuming.

This was the Astarion he’d fallen for. This was the love of his life.

Astarion crawled over him, and Sekh hooked an arm around his neck, pulled him in for the countless kiss of the night. Astarion slotted so perfectly between his legs, pushed at Sekh’s thigh with his knee, forced his legs wider. The drow shivered, as his lover traced the seam of his mouth, teased his lips but refused to push past them.

Sekh rocked up, nipped at Astarion’s lower lip, snagged it between his teeth. He got a pleased growl in response, as Astarion’s hips rolled against his. “Are you sure?” Sekh asked, releasing his lip, as Astarion bowed his head, pressed his mouth so eagerly to Sekh’s neck.

“With you? Always.” 

It was enough. Sekh trusted Astarion to be honest, with himself, with him. He owed the man that much.

Astarion nipped at the collar of his shirt, pulled on it, and Sekh chuckled. He pushed at his lover, forced Astarion up to his knees, so he could sit up, pull his shirt off and toss it away. The night air was cool but not cold, felt good on Sekh’s skin.

Skin that Astarion was quick to devour. His neck, his collarbone, before he was pushing Sekh back down, mouthing along his chest. Sekh sighed, as Astarion’s tongue circled his nipple- could just feel it- before the vampire dragged his teeth along one bud, got Sekh’s breath catching.

So pleased with himself, Astarion kissed down over one scar, moved to Sekh’s belly, following freckles over dusky skin along his navel, to the waist of his pants. He pulled at the lacing with his teeth, and Sekh tipped his head back, feeling dizzy, so hot under his skin he might combust.

“Astarion,” he breathed, felt the man’s lips on his lower belly again.

“Hmm?” the vampire hummed, hands moving up, taking over where his teeth had begun on Sekh’s lacing. “Is there something you want, love? Or…” he trailed off, tugged Sekh’s pants down slightly, managed to get them to bunch at the juncture of his thighs, so he could press his mouth to his cunt, kiss the warm skin through his thin underwear. Astarion shuddered, breath escaping him. “Is there something I want…”

Astarion was quick to pull Sekh up then, maneuvering them so he could tug off the drow’s boots, chucking them away, quickly tearing at his pants, his underwear, wanting all of his skin, all of him. Sekh pressed his shoulders back into the dirt, head resting directly beneath Astarion’s headstone, as the vampire grasped his thighs, spread his legs and smiled over the sight of him.

“There we are,” he breathed, long nails digging into Sekh’s tender thighs. “Gods I can see how wet you are. How is it that I do this to you?” Astarion turned those eyes to Sekh’s, looked as if he genuinely didn’t know the answer, despite his bravado, the false cocky charm.

He stretched out carefully, ran his tongue slowly up along Sekh’s slit, got a proper taste. Sekh arched, breath catching, mouth falling open as Astarion’s tongue pushed past his lips, found his clit and flicked along it slowly.

Sekh’s hands scrambled, along the dirt, looking for purchase. He rolled his hips to meet Astarion’s mouth, felt the rumble of the vampire’s groan. Needing to hold on, again for fear he might fall off the edge of the realms, he reached up behind him, grasped at the headstone. The stone was cold, so cold beneath his fingers-

Yet he liked it. Cold like Astarion’s skin- just another quirk to love.

Astarion pressed his tongue flat to Sekh’s clit, dragged over it so slowly, before lifting his head, sucking in a breath, studying Sekh’s face- the flush, the blown eyes, the slack mouth.

And oh, how he smiled. “Is it good?” He pushed Sekh’s thighs open wider. “Do you want it, pet?”

Sekh managed a nod, a broken Astarion, and the vampire was back, licking eagerly at his cunt. First, his clit, then dragging his tongue further down, pushing it inside him, over and over again.

Sekh writhed, clutched at the grave until his knuckles went white. He could feel everything building in him, heat and desire and need and a heaviness coiling in his stomach, snaking along his spine, constricting it so tightly. He moaned, wordless, and Astarion moved his skilled tongue back to his clit, quick, shallow licks over it, constantly, driving Sekh higher and higher-

He came with Astarion’s name on his lips, his headstone beneath his fingers, his thighs squeezing at the man’s head, holding him close. Astarion groaned into his wet body, let Sekh ride his tongue until the orgasm was beginning to recede-

And then he was crawling over him, kissing Sekh desperately, tongue tasting of Sekh’s bliss. Sekh sucked at his lower lip, released his hold on the headstone to grasp at Astarion’s back, as one of the vampire’s hands slid desperately between them, shaking, working at his own pants.

“You make me desperate,” he managed, voice breathy. “Like I could die without you.” Sekh pressed his face into the vampire’s neck, kissed his throat, then against the scars in his neck, as Astarion managed to take himself in hand. It only took a single thrust to have him fully buried inside Sekh, the drow whining into Astarion’s throat, the vampire squeezing his eyes shut. “Gods above.”

His hips rocked desperately, rhythm quick, making Sekh see stars. He pressed his teeth at Astarion’s throat, got a gasped yes from the vampire, and bit hard enough to leave little indents, in his pearly skin. Not to break skin, but still- a mark for the night.

A mark he could renew, every night, if Astarion needed.

Astarion was panting, Sekh could feel him trembling. He moved closer to his ear, managed between breaths, “Alright love?”

Astarion bit his lip, opened those eyes, as Sekh nipped at his ear, made him mewl. “Just,” he managed, “fuck, just so close already.”

The sheer glory of having Sekh come on his tongue had undone him, already, before he’d even begun.

“It’s okay,” Sekh managed, letting his head fall back, smiling. “You can come.”

Astarion groaned, eyes fluttering, lashes looking like white gold in the moonlight. “Darling,” he managed, even as his hips slammed against Sekh, as he drove into him with a feral need that was unsuppressable. “Not- without- fuck.”

Sekh pressed his forehead to Astarion’s, dug his fingers into his shirt, held on. “This is about you too,” he whispered, “just let yourself feel good, Astarion.” A little broken noise from the vampire, and Sekh added, ��I want it, I want you to feel good.”

Astarion’s rhythm faltered then- desperate, wanton, as he chased his bliss. Sekh held tightly, loved each breath that fluttered against his kiss reddened lips, loved the small noises and single words Astarion managed, as he brought himself so close he could have seen the gods.

And when he came, Sekh could see the euphoria, in his smile, in the crinkles along his eyes as they squeezed shut. He smiled, too, kissed Astarion, spread his thighs until his hips ached and let the man fill his entire being.

When Astarion’s hips slowed, stilled, Sekh kissed him still. He kissed until he couldn’t breathe, and then kept going, until Astarion broke away from him, looked at him with so much affection Sekh felt his ribs caving in.

“I want this to be good for you too,” Astarion managed, and Sekh chuckled.

“I don’t have to come to feel good, Starshine. Trust me, I enjoyed every second of that.” Sekh clenched around Astarion, watched his eyes go wide. “I’m still drenched, aren’t I?”

Astarion bit his lip, fangs poking out against the plush skin, and gods he looked so sweet when he did that. “I could… take care of you again,” he offered, light in his eyes. “I always want another taste, after all.”

“Tempting.” Sekh moved his hands from Astarion’s back to his waist, gave him a single squeeze, before he eased him back. The loss of contact, feeling Astarion slip from his body, always made Sekh want to scream. “But someone is going to see us of we stay here.”

“Live a little.” Yet Astarion got on his knees, pulled Sekh up. The drow took advantage of the position, pressed his mouth over where he’d bitten, sucking at the skin. Astarion squirmed, trembling when Sekh took his half hard cock in hand, gave him a teasing stroke, before tucking him back into his pants.

“I plan to,” he murmured, “everyday. With you.” A kiss to Astarion’s cheek, now. “Now, if you help me locate my clothes which you tossed about, maybe we can get ourselves back into bed and… pick back up.”

Astarion’s eyes brightened over that, and he stood, helping to gather Sekh’s clothing, the drow dressing as he was handed each discarded piece. Once he was fully dressed, Astarion took him by the hand, was eager to pull him through the cemetery gates, could have run through the streets to get him back to the Elfsong.

But Sekh had one thing he wanted to do first.

He stood firm, and Astarion dropped his hand, watched with curious eyes as Sekh turned, crouched down at his grave. Very carefully he dug a few fingers into the dirt, making a very small hole, before he plucked his ring off, looking at it one last time in the moonlight.

“It doesn’t feel right to wear it without yours,” he said, as he set the ring in the dirt. Astarion watched, and Sekh knew there was a moment of sadness, in those eyes. Cazador had managed to take that from him, in the end. The first gift Sekh had given him.

Well, the first tangible gift.

Sekh covered the ring up, stood and dusted his hands off. “Seems only fair we both close a chapter on our lives now.” He turned to Astarion, took his hand, pulled it to his lips and kissed his knuckles softly. “Besides, you deserve something far prettier than that.”

Astarion lifted his chin. “Well of course I do,” he teased, before adding, “that doesn’t mean I wasn’t… fond of it.”

Another kiss, now to Astarion’s ring finger. “Then I’ll just have to get you another one.”

Sekh heard the breath leave Astarion. He smiled over it.

“After all, I did promise I’d have you forever. That means you have me too.” He laced their fingers together, nodded towards the gates to the cemetery. “Now, take me home, take me to bed, and let me tell you how much I love you until dawn.”

Astarion kept his eyes on Sekh, took a single step back, towards the gateway, leading away from the skeleton of his past, the remains of a man forgotten and long dead.

Taking a step towards a future worth knowing, worth living.

“With pleasure.”

[miraculousturtle]

Please reblog or back this lovely children's book by a wonderful Chicana poet from Los Angeles!

Kickstarter closes ends on June 14th and she is only at 17%.

🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

BUTTONZ FINDS HIS MOJO is a story about a black cat named Buttonz...

He is the only cat - among humans and dogs! - until one day he comes across two black kittens just like him in his family's backyard...

But when Buttonz's cat fam unexpectedly grows, even more, they seem to have all the fun in the world in the wild cat jungle of the backyard. Then, some strange feelings come up inside Buttonz's otherwise purrfect heart. Soon, his tail begins to sag, and, alas, he loses his appetite! Something's gone missing. Will Buttonz ever find his mojo again?

Why Mojo? Why now?

Kids have been struggling in a post-pandemic world in their key formative years. Mental health specialists have encouraged concerned adults to help our children name their feelings and find healthy ways to manage them during difficult times. BUTTONZ FINDS HIS MOJO was written to serve as an important reminder to children that even though not every day is ameowzing, we can still nurture our mojo and find new ways to build relationships and support networks with those in our community.

Kickstarter Goal

Our Kickstarter goal budget of $8,500 is designed to offset the cost of illustrating 100% of the book and carry us right into book production. Book production includes a professional layout, cover design, and ebook conversion. There are other costs associated with publishing and merchandise development (see rewards) that are covered within this goal.

You can help Oh My Gatos! Books unlock two more books in the series - Mama Mittens Magical Tails and Lady Lemons the Library Cat - when you help us reach our stretch goals. Check out the details down below to see how!

From the Author

Hi! My name is Brenda Vaca and BUTTONZ FINDS HIS MOJO is my first children's storybook. I am a writer who fell in love with stories - reading and writing them! - from a very young age. I published my first book, a poetry collection for grownups called Riot of Roses, last year in December 2021 with incredible support from the Kickstarter community. I'm back again this year because my first experience was so incredible, I wanted to do it all again. This is my family's first cat, Buttonz. He's the inspo behind this new children's book series.

About the Illustrator

Sucy Ananda, known professionally as "SucculentFleur," is an incredible artist and illustrator from Indonesia. Brenda was a big fan of SucculentFleur on Instagram so when it came time to find an illustrator, Sucy agreed to help! And we're so thrilled she did. Her bright artistry and imagination really capture the spirit of Buttonz and his family.

The Rest of the Team

Ana Karen is a fantastic stationery designer and producer. What can we say, she loves paper! And, of course, other wonderful essentials to make learning, writing, reading, and creating fun. Ana Karen is designing a special pencil, especially for Buttonz's book launch!

Paola Gutierrez, otherwise known as "La Piedrita Feliz" and "El Libro Feliz y Yo" is a children's book writer and poet who loves to paint beautiful stones with encouraging messages and affirmations. She graciously agreed to be part of our campaign by designing several sets of Mojo Motivations and we couldn't be more thrilled!

Naynay the Cat Lady is a mysterious gal who loves to crochet and is so so crafty. She has created a prototype of a Buttonz stuffy using her fabulous crocheting skills that are available exclusively for this campaign. How very boutique of her! Recommended for older children. Limited supply, so snatch yours up before they're gone!

[avarice-n-spice-blog]

The Shift Key: Book 1 of Key Connections

Summary:

Humans have long since roamed the Earth, but beside them there has always been... The Others.

As the first human to work for Ironside Security's cyber division, Raina knows she has a precedent to set. With a shiny new degree and the knowledge that she is the best at what she does, it should be easy so long as she follows the rules.

One assignment is all it takes to ruin her carefully made plans.

What happens when a stubborn techie and a surly tiger cross paths?

Soren had thought the hardest part about becoming the Warden of the Northern region would be keeping his temper in check. Then when people start mysteriously disappearing, his responsibilities put the one person he thought he'd never see again directly in his path.

One mistake could send her back into his memories.

Preorder:

This is my first book and as of right now I'm shooting to have it done by end of year! Please check it out, and enjoy the first ever excerpt below the cut!

Excerpt:

“Soren, just because no one else has physically touched the cameras, doesn’t mean that they can’t just hack the cameras.”

She was back around, hands flying across her keyboard before she could get anxious over how he would take that news. She was already in the midst of pulling up the information on each camera stream access when she heard the sound of something breaking.

Temen’s following gasp but lack of reprimand confirmed that it was probably Soren who had caused the ruckus, as Raina couldn’t imagine Temen letting anyone else get away with it.

Raina felt more than saw Soren come up behind her, her back heating with his proximity. His shadow fell over her shoulder, and she fought down a shiver when he gripped the back of her chair and his knuckles brushed her back.

“Rain, I need you to explain exactly what you mean by that.“

She hadn’t been so close to a man since her brief stint in the dating scene during her undergraduate studies, and she rationalized that was why her entire body suddenly felt like her skin was far too tight.

‘Oh I need you far, far, away from me,’ she thought to herself as she turned her nervous energy into her job.

“What I mean,” she started quickly,” is that if you wanted a truly isolated camera system you should have gone a little more old school and kept it to physical tapes. Downside to that would be the endless reels you’d need to keep confidential, but then,” she said, beginning to punctuate each word with a quick snip and enlargement of specific text-

“-you wouldn’t have this problem.”

Before them were a series of IP addresses that Raina had surmised did not match anyone currently allowed access to the feeds.

She had thought jumping ahead of the curve and showing him the problem would get him out of her space faster, but instead he leaned far enough in that she could feel his hard stomach against the back of her head. Suddenly he was close enough that she could smell him: clean, woodsy, and something that was utterly Soren.

The unexpected familiarity of it broke something in her, the crack beneath her rib cage as sharp as any bone. This was why she hadn’t wanted to come back. At sixteen she had been afraid she couldn’t live without him. Now she was twenty six, and once again she wanted nothing more than to turn into his arms and bury herself in him.

Worse, he wasn’t even in his furry form.

“You wanna translate for me?”

She could practically feel the bass in his voice, the rough under current of his near constant growl rolling through her and making her nipples peak against her will.

There was one haunting second where he leaned in impossibly closer, the heat between them suddenly stifling, everyone else forgotten to her human senses except for the shifter caging her in. She felt trapped in way she couldn’t decide if she loved her hated.

When she saw him brace a hand beside her keyboard, she fought not to think about how the too sharp tips of his claws would feel against her skin.

She was a scant second away from embarrassing herself in front of her entire team when she managed to find the will to bring her chair back in a hard spin, jumping up and knocking him off her.

He was, of course, staring at her with a shit eating grin. Those bright blue eyes of his were shining with the same heat currently burning through her body, so she opened her mouth and killed it as brutally as she killed.

“Translation? Those are all the times someone has accessed your security feeds without your permission.”

The smirk finally fell off his face, but it didn’t make her feel better.

“Who?” he questioned.

Raina eyed him for a second, trying to decide the best way to approach the situation.

“Right now I just know that the feeds were accessed, the who will take more time,” she told him truthfully. She had automatically ran the addresses as soon as they were tagged as unknown, but they had all been fake.

Evidently having finally decided it was safe to join the conversation, Temen said asked “How much time?”

Raina understood the severity of the situation given the fact that the creeps they were looking for where in the people snatching industry. It was a time sensitive situation, and as Raina ran through the possibilities in her mind, the options were not looking pretty.

She could do it for sure, though requesting the necessary access to certain databases would take time. That was what she couldn’t accurately gauge, as her first instinct was to bypass those databases to get to what she wanted. One route was right, and one was illegal.

She knew the right thing to do, though.

Her mouth had barely opened to tell them it would take 5-7 business days to get the proper clearences before Soren was once again demanding her attention. He was in her space in seconds, large body moving with grace.

“You can do it now cant you?”

From inches away, he looked down on her, gaze sure.

So she sidestepped towards her team lead like a coward and shook her head.

“No, I can’t-“

“Can’t or won’t?” he pressed, moving forward.

She threw up her hands in defeat, as if that would stop him.

“Soren its not legal for me to-“

“Legal?” he bit out, voice dropping into something less human, “Since when have the rules ever stopped you?”

[darkswxrld]

Sorry about all the “soon” promises I used to make but like, looking back on this. Holy smokes I had so much lore and background and worldbuilding stuff I could infodump for hours. Borderline headache inducing to think about, if I’m being honest. I miss it and might actually restart it but again take that with a grain of salt I’m feeling nostalgic. My audience is probably completely gone since the origin has gone a bit sour but so long as one person is interested I might consider it.

[imaeraser]

Hi, I loved your ex-Admiral Reader joining the straw hats and U was wondering if you could make a part 2 where the reader and the Straw hats (separately) falling for the new reader.

Please and Thank you

🥰🥰🥰

Sounds great!

Luffy

At first, he thought that he was being friendly

Spending time with you, trying to make the Sunny as welcoming as possible, but then he started to get these warm fuzzy feelings

So he decided that he liked it, and spent even more time with you, but it only made it worse

It got so bad, that at one point he had to leave the room when you entered

When he talked about it to Nami and Robin, they just laughed

Then he got pouty and then demanded they tell him what they were laughing about

“You like them Luffy”

Of course, he likes you, he likes everyone on the crew. Then they had to explain to him that he was feeling romantic feelings

It all made sense, but he also got scared

He saw how love affects people and their careers. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to sacrifice that much for another person

But then Nami and Robin told him he already sacrificed so much for his crew

That’s when he decided he was gonna confess

Zoro

He was against you in the beginning

That’s why it didn't bother him when he wanted to spend more and more time with you. But it started to confuse him when he realized it wasn't to keep an eye on you

So he started to train more, but each time his mind drifted of it drifted off to you

Then he decided to (finally) take more showers, but while washing his hair, he found himself imagining your fingers rubbing his scalp

So he stopped taking showers (again)

Whatever he did, his mind drifted to you. How you would like something, what you would do if you were with him

So he opted to spend more time with you

This confused you, so when you asked he kinda blew up and talked about your allegiance. Of course, this made you sad, and seeing you sad made him realize that he screwed up. Later he talked to you in a hushed voice and apologized

I don’t think he’s the type to ask other people, but after yelling at you and apologizing (which he never does) he thinks it’s time to put down his pride

So when he talked to the boiz (I’m not sorry) they also laughed at him. Except for Luffy, Sanji, and Chopper. Luffy and Chopper were confused, and Sanji was making fun of him

This made him flushed, and as he was about to leave they pointed out the obvious, he liked you.

This made him even more flushed, and he slammed the door shut. But now that he knows what he is feeling, he can decide what to do

Nami

Was suspicious of you too

But as she spent more time with you, she realized that you were nice

So you guys started to stay up and talk about where you guys were from, dreams and aspirations, things you two wanted in the future. And of course about love, marriage, and kids. Just about everything

I think Nami would want to adopt two girls when she’s older. Just like Bellemare

She felt a fire bust in her chest when she saw your smile. She felt clouds split and the sunlight creep down her body when she saw you glance at her

And Nami is self-aware. You best believe that she knew what she was feeling

The knowledge made her shy away for a few days, but she realized that pushing you away wouldn’t make her happy

That means she put her flirtation on 10x

It did make you flustered— I mean a pretty lady hitting on you? Of course, you’re gonna be blushing

It’s mostly a series of compliments and dirty jokes added to the mix. But she didn’t confess for awhile

She didn’t want to disrupt the balance of the crew and was too scared to take the risk

But each time you talk to her, it makes her start to not care

Usopp

High-key scared of you

Was hiding behind Zoro as he interrogated you

But as he interrogated you, he realized that you were pretty nice

So he stopped hiding behind the human meat shield and decided to initiate contact himself

He was doing it to protect his crew… right?

Maybe at first, but he started to become interested in the person you are. Where you grew up, if you had any siblings, parents, dreams, and so on

Then he got addicted. He was a moth drawn to a flame, and he started to feel himself burn up— with love (It’s so cheesy, this is something I am sorry for)

He wanted to impress you. He would start to come up with all of these crazy gadgets

Sometimes he pranks you. He thinks you look cute when you’re mad

When he realized that he was feeling something romantic and not platonic— he went back to scared mode. Think of the stereotypical shy, cute, twiddling thumbs girl— yeah that's him

He keeps trying to confess, but then ends up chickening out

But after asking Franky for advice, he finally steeled his nerves

Sanji

Let’s just say that Sanji was a simp from the start

He may have been suspicious, but when he saw you his heartbeat unlike it had ever done before

It wasn't the usual feeling he got when he just saw a girl, it was something warmer

Of course, that made him want to explore it. Cue the excessive flirting

It honestly got kinda annoying, but once you guys started to talk about things that mattered (not him talking about how lovely you look) was when he started falling

And he fell hard

Sanji had never actually fallen for someone, so he got scared. That meant no more flirting, and him hiding when you entered the room

After you leave he holds his hand to his heart and breathes like he ran a mile

Poor Sanji, you give him butterflies. Too many butterflies

He wants to confess and get over it, but he finds himself getting lightheaded at the thought

Oh, there goes the blood

It gets so bad, that the crew has to take matters into their own hands

Chopper

He fell for you

Because you accidentally tripped him

(I’m not gonna make this romantic)

Robin

She was one of the only people who weren’t super suspicious

Instead, she took the time to get to know you better

When she got to see who you were, she couldn't help but start to fall for you

Make no mistake, Robin is very self-aware. When she started to get an inkling of feelings— she knew

But she likes to play oblivious. She’s good at masking her emotions. Plus, she doesn't want anything to change between you (except for the fact you don't kiss her yet)

She spends even more time with you now. She likes to read and do domestic things with you. She likes to imagine that you two live in a remote cottage

She likes to bring you tea when you read together

She wants to make a move, but she also doesn’t want to ruin what you guys already have

She likes to talk about her feelings with Nami

So every time you walk into the room, you catch Nami doing the wiggling eyebrows and Robin lightly slapping her arm

She just loves the way your brain works (as well as the way your lips look when they pull into a smile)

After enough pestering from Nami, she grabbed some flowers from her garden and decided to finally act on her feelings

Franky

You just started hanging out with him

Probably because he didn't care that you used to be in the navy

You would just watch him make things. And to be polite, he would let you try them out

Of course, this lead to you calling it amazing and boosting his ego

So he started to like when you were around

Then as a pastime, you two would get to know each other

That’s when he started to fall for you. He would start to notice the way your hair fell, and the way it caught the light

You became his muse. And all of a sudden, he's coming up with all of these crazy and brilliant inventions

No one noticed his growing crush on you, since you guys spent most of your time in his workspace, but one dinner the crew found him staring at you during dinner and tripping over himself

Cue the unnecessary teasing. He tries to cover it up as him being a pervert, but everyone knows that he is lying

Since he can’t convince anyone, he tries to convince himself. That means he starts to push you away

But when he starts to feel more empty, he owns up to his feelings and decides to change that

Brook

You would listen to his music

Listen, not just let it play the background

You always had this look of wonder in your eyes as you watched him

After getting to know him (which started by asking him how he learned so many instruments)

He likes the way you laughed and smiled, and… just do anything

He would start blushing when you would come up to him and talk. When he would see you across the room. When he would think about you… all the time

The crew started to notice but brushed it off as him being flattered by you being interested in his music

But when you guys weren’t doing something music-related, the two of you can be seen drinking tea or watching the ocean

He’s pretty self-aware, but he wants to deny it for a little while

But once the crew notices (due to his non-existent eyes following you) they push him to go after it. He’s been lonely for so long, it seems kinda weird for him

He also feels bad for liking you, since he’s dead and old

But he decided that you only live once, but in his instance twice

Jinbei

He was very suspicious of you

He didn't even want you to join. So he decided to keep an eye on you

That backfired

Because he started to notice how good you looked… doing everything. When he started asking you about yourself— boy he started sweating

He can’t get over how cute he thinks you are. Everything from how you look to how you act. The thumping of his heart can be heard by the fishes below

Cue the shifty eyes, twiddling thumbs, and flushed cheeks

He is honestly so cute. But of course, if anyone asks him what’s wrong, he’ll say he’s fine… sure

He tries to woo you by showing you his helmsman skills. If that doesn’t work he’ll tell you stories about Fishman island. If that doesn’t work… he’ll just listen to you and give his sage advice

The crew catches on quickly. He is just too obvious. That means incessant teasing from all of the members (excluding you)

Most of them find it ironic how he was telling Luffy it was a bad idea to let you on board, to think what it would be like to grab your hand with his webbed fingers

He’s self-aware, but he is also scared since he has never felt this way before

But after getting tired of the teasing, he decided he was gonna take you out for a swim… and whatever happens, happens (aka he’s preparing for a stuttering love confession)

[pan-ick]

Golden Child Pt. 1

I literally can't remember where I found it but I read a headcannon for an angsty SBI +Reader and I loved it so much that I had to write something similar to it but I think I might have forgotten to like it, so if you know what the original is please tell me so I can credit them I was partially inspired by@helliontherapscallion's "Adrenaline Junkie" series, simply for the fact that because of them i haven't stopped thinking of inventor reader. Also let's just pretend that uh my human biology degree isn't going to waste by me writing blindness incorrectly ha ha. This is a purely fictional way that blindness works.

(REMINDER YOU IDIOT, FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS STORY: Wilbur is 26, Techno is 20, Tommy is 16, Phil is 32, SO READER IS 22, GET IT RIGHT AND STOP MESSING UP)

As soon as Y/N's wings started developing, they were instantly the favorite child. Philza still showed his love to Wilbur, but nowhere near as much as he did to his winged child. If he had to choose between spending time with them or Wilbur, he'd pick them in a heartbeat. Wilbur was usually upset when this happened, but he had gotten used to it and had learned ways to cope with it.

This was until Techno showed up. On their doorstep. Next to a freezing Philza who had sacrificed most his warmth to the young piglin. Wilbur had his thoughts on this, yhough he kept them to himself. But Y/N couldn't be happier! This meant a new friend, AND they were right when they said that Phil was just a nice person, there wasn't a favorite child! Right?

They quickly realized that Techno wasn't their friend, as the first interaction they had together was them getting a claw to the face by the piglin. Philza just simply sighed and made sure the wound would stop bleeding before tending back to the scared pig.

Y/N was only eight at the time, they didn't know what they were feeling. But whatever it was didn't feel good.

Since that day, Y/N was the new Wilbur and 'Technoblade' was the golden child. Y/N wanted the spotlight back, so they tried hard at everything. Nothing ever worked. Nothing was better than what Techno could do. Nothing was more amazing than Techno's knowledge, or his skills in fighting, or his odd way of speaking, or those stupid things that he did, or the fact that he'd always blame it on some 'voices' in his head. That he had a God complex. That he was better than Wilbur. He was better than Tommy. He was better than you...

He was always better than you. Of course. Thats what you felt when you first met. Not amazement, not the happiness of having another friend. Of course not. It was overwhelming jealousy. But he was your brother, so you had to suck it up just like Wilbur did.

But soon enough, they came to peace with this. They moved on and worked on what they actually enjoyed, not what Philza enjoyed. Mechanics. Phil would have killed you if he learned of all the dangers that you put yourself through to consider yourself an inventor. Or.... Would he?

One day your older brother approached you with his idea to create "L'manburg". At first you couldn't help but laugh. But when it was realized that Wilbur wasn't joking and that he had already recruited Tommy, they agreed to join the fight for freedom. It was a way to pay Wilbur back for being there for them, afterall.

Y/N never imagined the true horrors that they would have to go through so they could say a 'thank you' to Wilbur. They never even truly said it to him, L'manburg was already exploded and he was killed before they could say it to him. Not even saying it to Ghostbur was good enough.

Y/N was forced to suffer through watching her loved ones go mad. Sometimes, they would try coming up with inventions that could help her friends out, and some that could help some regular problems in the world for other people. Most of them didn't work, they were only able to produce goggles that could just barely help fully blind people see. But it was a step in the right direction.

Then doomsday came. Y/N didn't want to be part of it, they didn't want to even try hurting their father and younger brother. They aren't even sure how they came to that point.

Before they knew it, they were begging the man who once gave them anything in the world for him to stop. The whole server was one big family especially everyone in the homes he was about to destroy. But what they wanted didn't matter anymore. It's what Technoblade wanted, and he wanted blood.

At the last moment, Y/N remembered Friend. Ghostbur would be devastated if Friend died.

Falling down to the ground from the small warning of TNT, Friend flooded their mind.

If they couldn't save L'Manburg, they needed to save Friend. Ghostbur wasn't the same, but Ghostbur is Wilbur. They still never said thank you. They have to show their gratitude through the miracle of Friend surviving.

And so that's what they set off to do. With no mind to their own self-preservation, Y/N got up and flew as fast as they could to save Friend. But before they could reach the sheep, a large pile of rubble fell on one of their wings, almost snapping it right off. Y/N tried to get it off but to no avail, and their whole body wasn't safe. As they saw more rubble they crouched down while covering their head with their hands and covering the undamaged wing with their body, they prepared for impact.

The last thing they could speak out was almost incomprehensible.

"Wil..... Will...... Ghosbu.............. Tommy.......... Dad............."

And then everything went black. Y/N couldn't see or feel anything. Not even after her youngest brother, the ghost of her older brother, and the three fiances of the SMP untrapped them. There was nothing.

After what felt like years for the brothers, there was finally a glimpse of Y/N waking up. But they continued to drift in and out of consciousness and whenever someone tried communicating they were completely unresponsive.

During this amount of time, it was agreed that it was in their best interest for their wings to be removed. They were both utterly useless now after being crushed and would just be extra weight with unnecessary pain that can be avoided the sooner their wings get removed. Just in case Y/N was still aware of everything going on, they were put under amnesia to lower the chance of them feeling the agony of a wing removal surgery.

Slowly Y/N began more responsive to people, but never to the same amount. Everyone that took care of them were absolutely heartbroken when they figured out part of the rock that fell on them damaged a vital organ that allowed a person to see. Luck was in fact on their side for damaging their eyesight instead of the brain, however most people didn't see it that way.

Ghostbur took it upon himself to become Y/N's seeing-eye dog. He missed having Friend nearby and Y/N was the thing he connected to the most after Friend's death.

After a few months of trying to get used to no longer having sight or wings Y/N was finally allowed back in their lab with a large amount of supervision from Ghostbur. While carefully running their hands across some unfinished inventions, Y/N comes across the goggles that they made at least a year ago. It immediately smarked a memory deep within their brain, the closest thing they had felt to seeing something ever since doomsday.

"Ghostbur, what color are these?" "Oh, they're blue. Blue's a really nice color, it reminds me of Friend. Do you remember Frien- Why are you looking down at those like that? Would you like some blue, it takes your sadness away! Wait dont put them on, the glass has cracks!" Y/N snickers as the ghost tries to take them away from them without being super forceful, "I'm already blind, what's the worst it can do?"

"Dont say that!" Ghostbur gasps, "We will find a way to get your vision back, those goggles might make it impossible!"

"I made these around the time you first showed up. I ran multiple tests with them and I was able to help a blind person see the world again. Sure, it was very blurry, hard to distinguish a lot of colors from each other, we have a different kind of blindness, and its been more that a year since I last tested them, but they might still work." Y/N explains, then they turn their back to Ghostbur and put the goggles on. This time, Ghostbut only makes a sound in protest.

Blinking, Y/N could feel the stimulation in their brain that they lost along with their eyesight come back. They moved their hands from the position they were in to put the invention on to Y/N's line of sight, and they could see their hands again. Fuzzy, shapeless, hands with a few bandaids and many scars on them.

"So, are they working?"

The voice of your brother brings Y/N back to reality and they turn to look at him. They had completely forgotten what Ghostbur looked like, only remembering vaguely what child Wilbur looked liked and a brief description of how Ghostbur's appearance differed for Wilbur's.

Y/N wraps their arms around the Ghost, not actually hugging but just doing the motion to where they would hug a person they could actually touch, as they tried to not cry in front of him.

(WOOOOOO THIS ENDED UP A LOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND I'M NOT EVEN DONE YET, SO I SEPARATED IT INTO TWO PARTS)

[doubleleoenergy]

i. Summer Bummer, Lolita Series

She just might become my lover for real. I might fuck with her all summer for real. They better not holla if I cuff her for real.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of erection, lewd thoughts, drinking

Words: 2168

Summary: Andy meets Jacob friends for the first time, including y/n.

“Dad, we’re here!” Jacob cried out, opening the front door to his familiar family home. 

Jacob Barber had just finished his Junior year at Columbia University and had just finished packing up his things in his apartment before driving back home. His parents had just finalized their divorce over the Christmas Break, and frankly, Jacob was relieved. His father, Andy Barber, seemed to be doing great, much happier without Laurie in his life. Maybe that was why he had agreed to let Jacob and his roommates from Columbia stay in their home for the entire summer leading up to their final year of undergrad.

“I’ll be right down, just changing a lightbulb in the bathroom.” Andy called out from upstairs, finishing his work quickly and disposing of the broken bulb in the bathroom trash can. He took his time down the stairs, smiling widely as he saw Jacob and his friends standing in the kitchen. “Good to have you home, son.” Andy announced, embracing Jacob in a warm embrace. He wasn’t lying at all, yes, he was fine after the divorce, but he did miss having his son at home playing video games or listening to his music too loud. Once Andy let go, he eyed the two other boys behind him, patting Jacob on his shoulder. 

“You boys must be Jacob’s roommates, right?” He questioned. 

“Yes, sorry dad, this is Rashad and Collin.” Jacob motioned to each of them, watching as his father shook each of their hands. “It’s nice to meet you all, and please, call me Andy. Only my clients call me Mr. Barber.” Andy took a step back, reaching into the fridge to grab a few Coors Light bottles, handing one to each of the boys before turning his attention back to Jacob.

“I thought you said there was another roommate coming, right? The one who you begged me to let intern at my office during the summer?” Andy asked, raising an eyebrow at his son.

Jacob took a swig off his beer bottle, nodding his head. “Yeah, y/n said she’d be here soon, she was just finishing up with a friend for brunch and then she was heading over.” Jacob, Rashad, Collin, and Y/N had been roommates this year in a quaint little apartment about five minutes from Columbia’s main campus. Andy had been to the apartment once to meet up with Jacob for dinner in the Fall during one of his many fights with Laurie, though Jacob’s roommates had all been out that day.

“Alright, well why don’t you boys make yourselves at home, take your pick of any of the guest rooms upstairs and let me know if you need anything. I was thinking of firing up the grill, it’s such a beautiful day out and the swimming pool contractors just finished with the new pool out back.” Andy opens the doors of the fridge again, pulling out the hamburger meat as the three men race up the stairs to look at the rooms they’d be occupying for the next few months. “Sure dad, thanks!” Jacob calls back, giving his father a short wave of his hand.

About an hour later the boys had all settled into the Barber’s backyard, speakers against the home blaring the hottest songs of the summer. Andy and the boys stood around the grill, exchanging stories of their latest semester and giving Andy a chance to get to know Rashad and Collin better. He was quite impressed with the type of people Jacob had chosen to associate himself with. Rashad was an engineering major like Jacob while Collin was studying chemistry.

After the boys finished laughing about Collin and Jacob’s double date gone terribly wrong, Jacob’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the screen with a smile. “Y/N’s pulling in, I’m going to go help her with her bags.” The other boys stayed next to Andy, watching as he flipped the last set of burgers on the grill.

“She’s gotta look heavenly in a bikini, right bro?” Rashad asks Collin, nudging him playfully in the side.

“You got a thing for y/n? Because I don’t think it’d be too appropriate to get with someone you are living the entire summer with, especially under my roof.” Andy objected, removing the burgers off the grill and onto the plate beside him.

Both Rashad and Collin burst out laughing, taking swigs from their beer bottles as they do. “Nah, Andy. Y/N’s a smoke show don’t get me wrong, but we can look but don’t touch. She’s not a relationship type of woman anyhow.” Rashad teased.

Just as the two boys finished their snickering, Jacob opens the screen door, the two immediately jogging up to give y/n a hug. 

“What, you boys miss me that much after being apart for only a day?” She teased, Collin finally releasing her from his death grip. Jacob pulls y/n out into the yard, stopping right in front of the grill where Andy was turning off the burners.

“Dad, this is y/n.” He gestures towards the woman beside him just as y/n sticks out a hand for Andy to shake.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barber, I’ve heard so much about you.” Andy finally turns his head in the direction of her voice, his eyes locking on hers as his heart skips a beat in his chest.

“It’s nice to meet you too, and please, call me Andy.” He reaches forward to shake her hand, taking in the whole sight of her. Her hair hung in loosely tousled waves down her back, stopping just above her breasts that were jutting out of her black lace bodysuit, which clung tightly to her hourglass figure and was tucked into her jean shorts that barely seemed to cover her ass. Her lips were plump and juicy, the color of a glass of fruit punch, a dotting of light freckles across her cheeks. Her eyes were striking, she wore no mascara, yet her lashes were thick and long. She was breathtakingly beautiful, a ‘smoke show’ as Rashad had said, indeed. 

Y/N watched how Andy’s eyes engulfed her body, tilting her head to one side as she pretended not to notice. “Well Andy, thank you again for letting us all stay with you this summer, and thank you for the internship. I would rather work a paid internship than work with these boys anywhere.” She teased, ruffling Jacob’s hair.

“It’s no trouble at all, our office could use a good intern for the summer.” He agreed, eyes lingering a little too long on her perky breasts again.

“Maybe we can carpool to work, I’m all about environmentalism.” Her words are flirtatiously drifting off her tongue, a seductive smile spreading across her lips. Was Andy imagining this?

“R-right, yeah sounds good.” He moves to grab the plate of burgers by the grill, gesturing to the house. “Boys, please bring out the salad, condiments, and tableware from the counter and come set the table. Oh, and get y/n a beer.”

Andy moves to the patio table and sets down the plate of burgers, watching y/n as she slowly sinks into the chair next to him. He catches a whiff of her perfume, a heavenly mix of oranges, vanilla, and sandalwood wafting through his nostrils. It’s the perfect scent for her, he thought, moving to sit at the far end of the table.

The boys come back with all the supplies for dinner, including y/n’s beer, which she is already nursing happily from. Andy’s eyes focus on how her lips wrap around the top of the glass bottle, clearing his throat as if to rid himself of his dirty thoughts.

“So, y/n, what made you want to intern in my office?” He questioned, assembling a burger onto his plate. Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, carefully putting a helping of salad onto her own plate before assembling the rest of her meal.

“I’m completing my undergraduate degree and then hopefully getting admitted to law school to become an attorney. I figured interning in a real office would be a great first step.” She stuck her fork into the salad, opening her mouth to take in the bite.

“So, what are you getting your undergrad in?” 

“My major is human rights with a minor in economics.” Her eyes met Jacob’s, a smile spreading on her face. “That’s how I actually found out Jake-y here was looking for another roommate. We had microeconomics together. Then I got introduced to these two losers-“ She teased, motioning to the other two guys at the table who feigned hurt expressions. “-and the rest is history.” The boys next to her were all chowing down as usual as if they hadn’t been fed in days.

As they take the time to finish eating, y/n lets the boys do most of the talking. She’s not a huge sharer when she first meets people, and frankly she’s glad to have the guys around to keep her entertained all summer. The dinner is spent catching way-too-long glances from Andy, his eyes lingering on hers for a bit too long here and there. There’s something about him that intrigues her, maybe it’s because he’s not a boy but a man, or maybe it’s just her usual game of cat and mouse, men usually fell to putty at her feet and she assumed he’d be the same.

“That was great dad, thank you.” Jacob says, finishing his third burger of the night. “Anyone up for a late-night swim?” He asked, standing up from the table and picking up a few of the items from it to take them inside. Rashad and Collin follow suit, with y/n trailing behind.

“Sounds good.” Rashad replies, going over to set his plate in the sink before bounding up the stairs. Andy walks back in as the four head upstairs to change, turning on the sink and rinsing off the dishes before setting them in the drying rack on the counter.

Shortly after finishing washing his third plate, he hears the boys running down the stairs, pushing each other to see who can do a cannonball in the pool first. Andy can’t help but chuckle to himself at their energy, it truly was nice to have noise in the house again.

“Can I help you, Mr. Barber?” Andy turns his head to the soft voice behind him, his cock twitching in his jeans. She’s standing in front of him in the tiniest floral bikini he’s even seen on a woman, the bottoms barely covering her slit and leaving nothing to the imagination of her ass.

“It’s Andy.” He chokes out, licking his lips before turning his attention back to the sink. Y/N sashays over to his side, grabbing the clean towel off the counter and starting to dry the dishes as Andy sets them into the rack.

“Right, I’m sorry, Andy.” Her eyes trail over his figure as she speaks, he can feel her eyes on him, and he shifts his weight as he stands to make sure his cock couldn’t be seen through the fabric of his jeans. “Thank you again for letting us all stay here; I was hoping not to have to deal with another summer bummer.” Her thin fingers set each dry dish carefully atop the other, Andy’s eyes glancing over one last time before he turns off the water, drying his hands on a clean towel.

He clears his throat. “Of course, any friend of Jacob’s is a friend of mine.” Suddenly, as if his ears are burning, Jacob opens the screen door sopping wet.

“You coming y/n?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at her. 

“Yeah, I was just helping your dad clean up.”

Andy shifts uncomfortably, trying to hide the erection in his pants. “Hey kiddo, I’m going to bed, you guys have fun tonight.” He turns to walk down the hallway of the first floor to his bedroom, hearing y/n’s soft voice echoing out to him.

“Goodnight Andy.” She purred, Jacob finally picking her up over his shoulder and carrying her out to the pool area, her cries of protest lingering as he shut the screen door behind them.

Once locked away in his room Andy let out a sigh, undoing his jeans and letting his cock spring free from his underwear. He couldn’t believe the way he was getting hard for his son’s best friend, he hadn’t even had a chance to think of another woman since the divorce, but y/n just had this sickeningly sweet seduction about her, he knew it matched a certain name.

“Lolita.” He murmured, and though she wasn’t a 12-year old girl from the novel, because ew, he did seem to have some sinful obsession with her after having just met. Is this love or lust or some game on repeat? Andy didn’t know, but one thing was for sure, he was definitely about to jerk off to sexual thoughts of her in that bikini.

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff​ @rattlemyb0nes​ @rootcrop @goldenboysteve​  @turtoix​  @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​  @ccmarvelxx

[dirtydancingdean]

✨ fic recs ✨

ok so back in like 2014 i watched supernatural for a solid 3 years until they killed kevin and charlie and i got bored of the bmol storyline. now im here again let’s not talk about it. BUT during this time i accumulated a Lot of fic and in the past two months i’ve gone through all 213 of my bookmarks and gone through like every rec list made after s12 in order to read fic set during every specific season while i rewatch the show. because im insane <3 im on s8 rn and wanted to share my list of favourites from each season so far as well as my favourite aus ! they’re all generally nsfw so minors be careful, and also check the warnings ! and i will update this when i finish s15 <3

aus

asunder by rageprufrock (23.8k, e, background samruby)

obviously the most perfect thing to ever exist. 

and this, your living kiss by opal_bullets (56k, m, background saileen)

poet dean fic need i say more. part dean studies if dean studies was elaborated on lovingly in detail for 56k words, part gorgeous and beautiful poetry, part incredibly clever commentary on meta and fan allusions, and part stunning exploration of the relationships in the show turned on their heads.  

one white little lie by komodobits (11k, gen)

this is SOOO cute. cas is so embarrassing i was covering my face the entire time i was reading it. if u want to be cheered up. read this. 

broadway musical by griftings (12k, m)

this is genuinely sooo funny. big “castiel did you fuck the michael sword” energy and jimmy novak as that “am not against gays” tweet, plus jo <3

c-s-t-l by komodobits (90k, m)

i haven't read this in a while but from what i remember it was incredible and also had cassie <3 

rest is under the cut because it got long fhjfkfklf

pre-series/season 1-3*

a turn of the earth by microcomets (time travel, 95k, standford era, m)

i think everyone’s read this at this point but if u haven't. what are u doing. go read it. it’s absolutely everything i reread it in the week before the finale without remembering half of the stuff it talked about and i was a WRECK. if u think about standford era dean every day read this. cas punches john winchester in the FACE. 

geography by aeli_kindara (3k, teen and up, warnings for discussion of rape/non-con and prostitution)

not dean/cas but a really wonderful and needed conversation with sam and dean during 2x02.

season 4

so says the sword by komodobits (85k, e)

yeah. i dont need to say anything.  

consequences of falling by fayjay (37k, e, background samruby, warnings for rape/non-con)

THISSSS FIC. pls it’s perfect literally everything i wanted when i was watching s4 and obsessed with love as an act of worship + ruby and cas parallels. ruby and cas get drunk together! ruby says this: “dean and castiel sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes the fall from grace, then comes battling the hosts of hell and wishing that you’d managed to get your skinny ass laid before the freaking apocalypse”! what more could u want!

named by rc_machlan (94k, m)

literally the best fic in the world i am not going to say Anything if you love dean and angels and the mythology of s4-s5 that was promptly dropped, you absolutely have to read this.

four people ruby seduced & one she actually fell for (or: ruby's epic love affair with humanity in general and sam in specific) by tuesday (3.7k, e, samruby, ruby/jo)

this is more background deancas than anything else and does contain brief, not romantic in any way dean/ruby and dean/cas, but like. if u love ruby (which i do) u have to read this.

season 5

final fantasy by orange_crushed (1.9k, m)

endverse.....this made me want to die

the (mostly accidental) courtship of dean winchester by tuesday (11k, m)

a classic for a reason. really cute and soft and the handprint and cas beating dean up in 5x18 are angelic marriage rites. what more could you ask for.

the girlfriend experience by rageprufrock (15k, explicit)

of Course i mean of COURSE. thee s5 deancas fic.

strike me down and i’ll come back more powerful than you can possibly imagine by trinityofone (10k, gen)

post 5x22 dean and cas rescue sam from hell with the help of some special guests. PERFECT. the only valid good omens crossover.

season 6**

something stupid by zatnikatel (20k, e)

this broke my heart and put it back together. one of my favourite cas characterizations, takes place over s5-s6 and it’s just stunning. 

a crash course in someone else’s history by annie d (11k, teen and up)

s4 cas ends up in the body of cas in 6x20. fucking life-ruining.

season 7

make known by domesticadventures (16k, teen and up)

this is a really heartbreaking look at dean’s headspace near the end of s6 and throughout s7, and it’s really wonderful with a hopeful ending.

redemption road by a whole bunch of people (652k, virtual season, explicit)

oh boy. ok. know ur herstory ! this was written from 2011 to 2012 and it is thee s7 fic, a virtual season written by 17 fans all together. it’s very very long and it suffers sometimes from having being written a decade ago, but im making my way through it right now and it still fucking holds up. i really do recommend reading at least some of it, you can stop around halfway through and you should be fine.

season 8***

rinse, repeat by ias (3k, teen and up)

exploration of cas when naomi forces him to kill copies of dean and then his perspective in goodbye stranger.

my keeper by whelvenwings (5k, gen)

another goodbye stranger fic, this time with bonus artist cas!

though the course may change by imogenbynight (51k, e)

au after 8x23. i love this fic so much. dean accidentally ends up making himself have to go undercover with cas and pretend to be fake engaged. also, charlie and kevin. do i need to say more.

apres by imogenbynight (24k, e)

au after 8x23 where dean goes to find cas after the angels fall in paris 🥺

*i have found exactly one bela fic that i loved, and zero henriksen fics that i loved, so IF u have recs for those. i would appreciate that.

**mostly the s6 fics i read were uh...vampire dean fics...

***have found one (1) good dean/aaron fic but im still searching for the perfect purgatory crew fics 

[thestorycfus]

The Sweetest Apparition - Part 3

Pairing: Peggy Carter x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and historian who specializes in the life and legacy of Captain Carter. After Nick Fury uses the Tesseract to bring Peggy back, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts the reader to help her navigate life in the XXI century.

Warnings and notes: Food, mentions of Steggy, mentions of Stucky, very small mentions of war. Other characters are also mentioned. This got way longer than the first two parts, but there’s also way more Peggy here. This series takes place after the last scene of What If… episode one, including spoilers to that episode. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Word count: 2,304

Series Masterlist

It should be a short walk to your apartment, but you made a small stop each time Captain Carter was curious about something. You also got some take out on the way, making sure to pick at least four different options from separate places and a couple of desserts too, since you didn’t know her taste yet. It was a while before you made it to your street.

During the entire time, your chatting was limited to safe topics - how loud and bright the city was, how many screens there were, the amount of coffee options that existed now. You watched Carter fall in love with her caramel coffee and made a mental note to buy her more sweets.

Soon, the Captain would also need to go shopping. Fury had gotten her the formal white blouse and the black pants she wore now, an outfit much more discreet than the uniform she was wearing when she fell, but that was her entire wardrobe at the moment. That was another mission you should handle, but it could wait until after lunch.

When you finally got home, you placed the food over a kitchen counter and gave Carter a quick tour of the apartment. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough for both of you until she was more familiar with this century. The tour ended where it started: in your tiny kitchen. You pulled a stool for the Captain and presented her with the options for lunch.

“I suppose you’ve never tried some of those, so I got a few different meals. Burritos, sweet and sour chicken, calzones and Pad Thai. For dessert, there’s lemon tart and triple chocolate cake. I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Peggy took a seat and examined her options. You wondered if that would be, technically her first meal since the 40’s.

“They are all tempting, but I might start with this one.” Her eyes were fixated on a burrito as if it was the Holy Grail. Yeah, that was surely the first time she ate in seventy years. She dove in, so focused on her meal that you didn’t dare to interrupt. Meanwhile, you took the other stool and picked a calzone, eating it while you watched Carter.

You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that she was really here, and it was surprising that you hadn’t completely freaked out so far, but the prospect of the rest of the day started to worry you. The Captain would certainly have a lot of questions and, if there were inquiries that Fury left for you to answer, they probably pertained more to her personal life than to great historical events.

If the registers about her were right, it wouldn’t be long before the real conversation started. Peggy Carter was too smart to have such a debate in the middle of the street, but she wasn’t known for stalling. As soon as she finished her meal, in the privacy of your (now shared) kitchen, you would have to provide about seven decades of answers.

Before you could try to prepare yourself, she was done with her second burrito. You almost suggested dessert, but the look she gave you left no room for pauses. Carter turned on her stool to face you directly, her posture becoming straighter and her eyes never leaving yours. She was the perfect image of Captain Carter, the hero, the legend who defeated all odds. Still, when she spoke, there was softness in her voice.

“The meal was lovely and so is the apartment. I can’t thank you enough for you kindness, Agent L/N, but I must ask a few things more of you. If you have studied about my life, you must know what happened to Steve Rogers after I was gone.”

You should be ready for that. Of course her first personal concern would be about Rogers. His story with Carter went down in history as a tragic tale of love, bravery and loss. To his last days, Rogers had made it his mission to honor her legacy, but that wasn’t all that he did. How do you tell a person that the love of her life went on to live a decades long, fulfilling relationship with someone else, even though, from her perspective, they were together the day before?

“Please, call me Y/N. And you can ask anything, Captain. I will tell you everything I can.” You took a deep breath, going through the words in your head in search of the best way to let her know. It was best to keep nothing out. Carter deserved that. “Steve Rogers continued to serve as the Hydra Stomper until the war had ended and all known Hydra operations had been eliminated. After that, he stepped out of the suit so that Howard Stark could continue his research with the Tesseract. I believe neither of them ever gave up on bringing you back, but, in many ways, they also moved on to build new lives.”

You made a small pause, in case she wanted to say something, but Carter only gave you a nod, encouraging you to continue. It was impossible to look away from her eyes, or to keep anything hidden when she stared at you with such intensity. Even in silence, sitting still, she emanated a power that kept you talking.

“A few years after the war, Rogers and Stark started an intelligence agency to keep the world safe from threats we could barely understand. They named it S.H.I.E.L.D., because of you. That is the agency I work for, directed by Nick Fury.” There was something poetic in the way that same agency ended up being the reason Peggy Carter was back, but it wasn’t your place to point that out. “Rogers never stopped fighting, even without the suit. He was a legendary agent, working along with James Barnes until they retired. They were also together for the rest of their lives.”

That was the piece of information you feared would break Carter’s heart, but she had a bright smile after hearing that.

“That suits them. All of them.” The joy in her voice sounded so sincere, and you couldn’t help but ask.

“Were you and Rogers… Together? It is said so in the official files, but…” In your studies, you sometimes wondered if their relationship was just a myth, maybe a publicity stunt to humanize the fallen super soldier. It was your job to question the data, but you had never paid that possibility much attention until now.

Instead of being offended by your invasion of her privacy, Carter laughed so lightly and freely that you felt your cheeks getting warm.

“Oh, darling, Steve Rogers had a heart too big to have only one soul mate. He was the love of my life, yes, and I was the love of his, but not the only one. A love so beautiful and dedicated is supposed to be shared. Of course I’m sad I didn’t get to share the rest of his life with him, but I’m relieved to know that he and Bucky had each other. And that’s not to say I’m a being of such virtue that I’m above jealousy. I felt jealous of Steve alright, many times, but I could never be jealous of him with Buck. They fit well together and they were good for each other. They were real, just as Steve and I were. Steve deserved to be loved through a lifetime. I’m grateful that he was.”

Carter’s eyes shined with tears, but she didn’t allow any to fall. Maybe she would let herself grief for the lost possibilities later, but for now she was handling such an emotional journey with more elegance than you thought possible. It didn’t seem to be an act at all. On the contrary, what touched you the most was the honesty in her words. That selflessness of being genuinely happy to hear of how her soul mate lived on without her, in love with someone else, told you more about Peggy Carter than any history book ever had. And that’s how she reacted right after being thrown into the next century, coming directly from a war and landing in a world she didn’t recognize.

“I don’t think history ever made you justice, Captain. The general public thinks of you as a hero, but they’re so far from knowing the person behind the suit... You know, it’s very nice to meet you.” You couldn’t help but sharing a bit of what was on your mind. To that moment, your hero was turning out to be even better than your daydreams, and it was only fair to let her know so.

At that, she gave you a big smile and your heart skipped a beat. You would have a hard time sharing an apartment with this woman.

“You are far too kind to me. To be honest, they never showed much interest on me, suit or not, until I went against official orders and started throwing tanks around and fighting the battles that needed to be fought. I am more concerned about what I am able to achieve, regardless of how they will see me. And there’s no need to call me Captain, Y/N. Heavens, we live and work together now and you’re my guide to modern life. Peggy is fine. And it’s nice to meet you too.” She took the initiative to get a slice of chocolate cake, already making herself at home. You had the feeling that her adaptation to this world wouldn’t be too difficult, all things considered. Peggy Carter would take whatever she was given and make more of it than anyone imagined possible.

“As you wish, Peggy. Speaking of that, there’s a lot I think you’ll like to see about life now. What else are you curious about?” You took your own slice of cake, trying to feel at ease in this conversation. You couldn’t be on high alert whenever Carter was around if she was going to be around all the time, but that was easier said than done. Your responsibilities here were enormous and, to be frank, you were determined to be your best self and impress her, even if just a bit. Maybe telling her about the wonders of nowadays technology would do the trick.

“I am curious about everything. I can’t wait to know all about the development of science, or what I missed in seven decades of sociopolitical turmoil, but there’s one more person I’d love to hear about before we get to that. You mentioned Howard moving on with his life, didn’t you? What exactly was that little menace up to while I was gone?”

Now, that was a rich topic of conversation.

“Well, Stark continued his research with the Tesseract and with many other projects, sometimes along with the US government, and he built a billionaire empire. Weapons, all sorts of technology, wild parties. The man had everything. He has a son, Tony, who inherited the tech, the money and the brains, but with a stronger inclination to heroism. You see, Tony Stark built himself a supersuit, partially inspired by his father’s Hydra Stomper, but with a larger variety of uses. It’s said that Steve Rogers was a sort of mentor to him, but I couldn’t get Stark to talk a lot about it when I interviewed him.”

You couldn’t tell which part made Peggy more excited. She nodded along as you listed Howard Stark’s achievements, as if it was all expected, and her eyes got wider when you told her about his son. When you mentioned Rogers, she almost jumped in her seat. She was already invested, but dropping that name sealed the deal.

“Fury gave me this.” She took two business cards out of her pocket. “It has his telephone number and Barton’s too. Could I use your telephone to call him? I would like to meet this Tony Stark, and I bet Fury would be able to reach him.” 

Giving Director Fury a call from your cellphone felt strange, but how could you deny Peggy that? If the Director gave her the number, he wanted her to be able to reach him, right? 

Instead of dialing yourself, you showed Carter how to use the phone. She looked like a kid on Christmas whenever she was given access to new technology. You would make sure she got a cellphone of her own soon so you could show her everything the device could do. 

She called Fury and you waited as they talked for less than two minutes. Peggy handed you the phone when she was done, with a smile that said she got what she wanted.

“So, what did the Director say?” You asked, anxious to know the outcome of the call.

“We’re meeting Tony Stark tomorrow at 2pm in his tower. Was it him who named it Stark tower or is that Howard’s doing?” She narrowed her eyes a bit, still smiling.

“The tower was built by Tony, so I think we can’t blame Howard for that one.” You joked. “Are you meeting Fury at S.H.I.E.L.D. before you two go to Stark’s?”

“Oh, Fury is not going. He booked the meeting for you and me, if you would like to accompany me.” Peggy sounded hesitant, as if she had just considered that you might not want to join her on that plan. 

"You’re asking me if I wish to be there when Captain Carter meets Tony Stark? Please, if I didn’t get the chance to be a part of that exchange, I would beg you for a detailed retelling as soon as you got home.” 

Your reply made Peggy laugh once more, and you were getting used to that sound very quickly.

[alreadyblondenow]

Bad boys bring Heaven to you | Mark Lee

▸ Mark Lee x reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, demon au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 4/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers​

Summary: He was your guardian angel and your dark desires changed him for the creature that he is now. He gave you a baby so he can make sure that you’re going to be together forever,  but you don’t want to keep it.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: Rough sex, vanilla sex, a lot of sex will happen I’m telling you, overstimulation, pregnancy, filthy, minor/major(?) character killings, major character death, possessive behaviour, swearing, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex hence the pregnancy, mention of abortion, hospital scenes,  

A/N: FILTH. But I lessen the smut scenes (just a bit hehe)  Words in Italics are Mark’s thoughts.

Taglist: (if I happen to forgot you, I’m sorry! But these names are on my list. Thank you!) @huangxx @floweringtheflowers @minejungwoo @swimmingkpopblog @luvlyjaemin @capablemork8299 @jaehyunoos @neospirited @shanghai-lu @jenotation @strawberrytyong @lilminyoongles @cottonmyeonbby @neosaniuniverse @simp4mk @jaejaenim @junglewoos​ @sunshineleedonghyuck​ 

I used to be your guardian angel, but being a demon is the only way that I can be with you.

Guard and protect. Those are the only things that I should be doing as I stay by your side until your dying breath. Guard your heart so you could make the right decisions in life and help you with your choices. Protect you from all kinds of harm so you can live a long happy life until your time finally comes.

You just turned ten years old when you were assigned to me, I just turned thirteen at that time. I even sang you a happy birthday together with the others during your celebration. I was beside you when you blew the candle and listened to your wish. From there on it’s always been you and me, we pretty much grew up together.

I guide you with your decisions every day, protect you inside and outside your home, and listen to your prayers. Oh, I love to listen to your voice whenever you pray. It calms me and your prayers are good proof that I’m doing a great job as your guardian angel.

But as we grow up, you started making impulsive decisions that I don’t have control with. You changed during your teenage years, you no longer pray and let me hear the sound of your prayers anymore. I’m afraid you will no longer need me and that they will assign me to a new human after a few years.

When you were seventeen, you almost lost your virginity to someone who’s not worthy. I’m sorry but I have to meddle with that so I stopped it and gave the guy a piercing headache. I feel sorry for what I’ve done, truly. But he doesn’t deserve you.

I feel bad about what I did so I seek guidance from my senior angel, Doyoung. I told him everything that I felt the moment I saw the guy enter your room and watch him kiss you and put his hands around your body. I told Doyoung that for the first time, I hated your smile because you like what the guy is doing to you.

Do you know what Doyoung told me? He said that I’m starting to be unholy and have feelings for you.  

And it’s true. I’m starting to be more and more ungodly as I continue to watch you touch yourself every night with your fingers inside you, and instead of prayers, I hear moans from you every night. You started to have perverted desires which I can’t help you with because I’m an angel. I’m completely aware that I’m failing with my mission and scared to face my senior angels and keep me away from you.

If I lose you, I will be meaningless.

I sold my soul to the devil so I can be with you and follow you to a path full of desires.

It’s still the same. I’m still me but my job has no rules now and I can do whatever that pleases me to keep you in my life. Over the years of being a demon, I watch you now in a very different way. I watch you shower and get dressed, I watch you touch yourself with legs wide open as I masturbate beside you, I possessed every guy you have sex with and we always have a great time.

But I want more than this.

For many years, you’ve already mastered the art of living alone and you are your own companion. Alone in the morning, alone at night. It is a lonely and tiring life, but still, you find comfort in being just with yourself.  

Eating dinner alone in a fast food restaurant near your apartment has been your daily routine since the day you’ve landed the job of being a real estate agent away from home. Selling houses left and right, having the luxury and time to flirt and enjoy one night stands, earning buckets and buckets of money, but still, you feel alone and incomplete.

As you were just about to start to dig in, your phone rang, it was your boss calling about 127 House. The haunted house that’s been unoccupied for almost three years now and has been threatened to be taken down tomorrow and it’s part of your job to save it.

“Someone is finally interested, were going to meet him at the office tomorrow. My assistant says it’s an anonymous buyer and we just have to wait for tomorrow to talk things out” he explains excitedly. The sound of his voice was a little loud on the phone.  

“This is great news” you answered calmly, “I love that house thankfully were saving it. Have your assistant send me the details for tomorrow- Yeah, thank you!”

One of the many good things that you love about your job, is the happiness that comes with it when a house can be a home after being empty and cold for years. Haunted or not, just like a normal house, the 127 House deserves to be a home for a family.  

After having dinner alone, you quickly reviewed some of the contracts for the anonymous client for tomorrow, reviewing your presentation one last time and finally letting out a big sigh, patting yourself on the shoulder, telling yourself ‘good job.’ It would be so great if someone can really say it in front of your face and actually getting a pat on the shoulder.

Thankful nonetheless because finally you have time for yourself and reward yourself with a nice shower. But even during your shower, you were spaced out and you kept thinking how it’s actually a miracle that the 127 House got a buyer a day before it’s going to be taken down. The house was beautiful, haunted but beautiful. It would be such a waste if it wasn’t given a second chance.

“Oh fuck” you cursed when you realized you put too much soap on your body. As you were busy rinsing all the soap from your body, down to your legs until your toes, when you felt something touch your wet hair, and you turned around to see if something fell off from your rack but there's nothing, weird. You shrugged it off and continue rinsing your soapy skin, and finally putting shampoo on your hair. You close your eyes and massage your scalp, you love how the hot water feels against your skin and how it calms your nerves. Then again, you felt something touch your skin. But this time it ran up and down your slit and you’re sure it's not the hot water.

Quickly you ended your peaceful shower, reached for your towel, and prepare yourself for bed. Maybe it was hot water after all and you were just being paranoid and tired from work. The comfort your bed provides felt even more relaxing as you entertain yourself and scroll through Twitter for a moment, reading updates and seeing different trends then an interesting small clip of porn catches your attention. You watch it like a hawk and allow yourself to be aroused and turned on. Satisfied with the porn you just watched, you removed your shorts and underwear leaving only your thin oversized shirt, and proceed to touch yourself freely.

Sucking your point and middle finger, you played with your slit with your wet fingers running it up and down until you get wet real good. Teasing yourself before you proceed on putting it inside, you shamelessly spread your legs wider lifting your shirt so you could pinch your nipples while you make yourself feel good down there.

“Yes, baby”

You heard someone talk near you but there’s no one in the room but you. You live alone. Not bothering about it anymore, you closed your eyes again and continue touching yourself. “Ohhh baby” you moan and feed your imagination that someone is making you feel good right now. You part your mouth and let out soft moans, kicking your blanket until it falls.

“Open your eyes”

“Ow” you suddenly felt something pinched your right nipple. You opened your eyes and stopped what you’re doing because the creepy things that are happening tonight are getting out of hand. You see a shadow of someone seated right beside you and you quickly grabbed anything you could cover your legs with for you feel so exposed in front of a stranger who could be a rapist.

“Are you getting shy? Baby?”

You open your lampshade with a slight panic and you see lustful eyes looking deep into yours. Whoever this person is, he looked angelic but what he’s doing right now says otherwise. “We can talk after we fuck. Can you remove your shirt?” his surprisingly sexy voice made you gave in and followed what he asked for. “Don’t be scared, alright?” he added.

With nervous hands, you nod and sat up immediately to remove your shirt and make yourself naked in front of the handsome stranger. Suddenly, he’s right beside you, naked and arms pillowing his head showing off his arms, cock hard already. Is this a dream? This has to be.

“I’m Mark. How do you want this? Do I fuck you or do you fuck me?” he asked confidently with a teasing smirk.

“I fuck you” you said, since he looks so handsome laying in bed like that, the urge to ride your imaginary man is growing and growing and it’s making you hornier. He’s like a magnet that invites you to straddle him and ride him until he's gone and you can finally rest.

“I don’t think so” he got up from his comfortable position and kissed your neck wildly holding your shoulders as he kisses you down to the mattress “Do you know what I am? Hmm?” his kisses were addicting and it’s making you weak like he’s sucking all your energy. He slaps your ass deliciously when you don’t answer him, the sting stayed on your right ass cheek for a few seconds.

“A man from my dream?” you answered weakly.

“Correct. And I’m a demon” the last word made you shiver and you tried to push him away, even tried kicking him but it’s useless. “What’s wrong? You weren’t like this when you were moaning just a few minutes ago” his deep voice scares the shit out of you but it makes you horny at the same time. This isn’t right. To your surprise, he licks a long stripe on your neck and told you, “You’re mine”

He flips you on the mattress pinning your arms down with a force. “Close your legs tightly and don’t fucking move, I’m going to play with you” you closed your legs and you feel him massage your ass cheeks telling you how they’re perfectly soft and bouncy, teasing your cunt from behind and licking it until he’s satisfied and happy on how wet you are.  

The position Mark put you in, made you even more harder to breathe and you can’t move for your own liking. You feel him push his cock without caution, fucking you with closed legs as he loses his mind with how good you feel around him. You, on the other hand, is a moaning mess. Gasping and breathing much air for your life as you let the demon fuck you quick and rough. Mark put his entire weight on your back, resting his left cheek on your face, thrusting in your tight cunt as you whimper and grunt under him.

“Oh baby, does it hurt?” he felt you nod your head and flinch whenever he gave you sharp thrusts. “Shhh baby, I don’t care. It feels good around me” he said and reached for your lips for a soft kiss. The handsome demon continued giving you hard and piercing thrust until he came inside you, “Now slowly spread your legs” you followed him weakly and you wished you didn’t.

Spreading your legs for him just gave him a new angle that made you more sensitive. Unconsciously, you arched your back for him now making the demon happy and smirk as he pounds you from behind, “you look so hot from up here, I might get you pregnant” you moan out how good he feels and grip the sheets on your bed. By this time only the sheets and the mattress can understand how intense the sex is.

He cupped your boobs from behind with both hands, still fucking you good but even deeper this time. “Oh please, this is too much” you cry out and beg but he never listens, he just gives you low chuckles. Low devilish chuckles.

When he finally stopped the good torture, you thought that was it, but you’re wrong. He stopped for a second and made you kneel against his chest and put his middle and point finger in your mouth and coat it with your spit, “tell me Y/n, do you want a baby? boy or a girl?” he removed his fingers and put it on your clit, drawing circles slowly as he enjoys listening to your whimpers while waiting for your answer.

“A boy” you gasp sharply as you try your best to answer. His fingers are making you weak that you’re legs are already giving up, you just want to lay flat on the mattress. He put the same fingers again in your mouth, letting you taste your pussy juices.

“Great choice. Want me to cum inside you, huh” you nod at him not because you want it, but you just want to satisfy the demon and feel him pound against you deliciously again. He can’t actually plant a baby inside you, right? This is a dream.

He pushed you on the bed and flipped you again, “Please be gentle, I beg you you’re so big” you reached for Mark’s face hoping that he has even a small ounce of mercy for you. Being underneath him like this made you realized that he is even more handsome up close, you bravely touched the soft skin of his face wondering how can someone or something looked so angelic on the outside but demonic on the inside.  

As you admire the beauty of the demon on top of you, he made himself comfortable in between your legs kissing your body, and sucking your nipples just how you wanted. “Okay, since you asked so so so nicely baby” he kissed you and proceeds to line his cock in your entrance, pushing in slowly and gently as you requested for the first time tonight. Giving you a few slow and gently thrusts, you moaned and smiled whiled he let you enjoy your request. You may not know, but the demon is admiring your smile, so he kissed those soft lips of yours once again. “Now, can I rough you up a little?” he sure has no patience. You have no other choice when he puts your arms around him, “I’ll let you touch me”  

Thrusting hard again in no time, making your boobs bounce underneath him. Again, you whimper and asked for more this time. “Can I kiss you?” you asked with ragged breaths, he answered your question with a kiss, as if he’s letting you know that you can kiss him whenever you want to, in exchange for fucking you hard.

“You’re mine from now on” he repeats over and over again, hearing him grunt and moans like he was in pain but he was having a mind blowing orgasm. Shooting his cum inside you, looking at how fucked you are right now.

“Will I see you again? Tell me I’ll see you again” you whine under heavy breathing.

Mark kissed your parted lips sweetly, “you will, you will” he answers you. It’s like he has a switch or an off button for his rough attitude because he’s suddenly sweet. “It’s over now baby, you did great. Hmm.” he kept on kissing your lips until you have the energy to kiss him back. “That was great right? We will be great parents”

 I left Heaven for you and gladly I will leave Hell too.

I am a selfish demon.

My intention for you is to love you deeply every day for as long as I exist. You may not hear me tell you ‘i love you’ but my actions are good and enough proof that my love for you is real and I want to show more.

I no longer want to possess another human just so I can talk to you or have sex with you. I no longer want to meet you secretly in your dreams and remain as your imaginary man. I want to wake up beside you and see your smile first thing in the morning, to be able to exist and be part of your life completely, walk on the streets hand in hand and live a full life with you.

It’s too much to ask, I know. But it’s not a bad thing.

As I watch you grow as an adult, you became more and more lonely, incomplete, and unsatisfied with the things you have in your life. I can make you happy I’m sure of it.

And giving you a baby is something that can make you need me or can make you want me to stay and be part of your life. I’m sorry.

But I’m a selfish demon and all I wanted is to be with you.

The sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a disturbingly nice dream. Another call from your boss about 127 House, today is the day that the house will finally be saved. As you stretch your body in bed, it’s weird how you feel so sore and tired when you perfectly remember sleeping early last night and had the weirdest dream in your life. The sex from the dream played like a movie picture in your head, the handsome face of the demon is engraved in your mind, “Mark” you whispered as you remember his name and how he kissed you oh so sweetly while he was telling you that you’re going to be great parents.

Knowing that it’s just a dream, you shrugged it off and started your day with a nice coffee and light breakfast, reviewing your presentation on the side for later, making sure that everything you say about the house will not make the buyer turn their back.

Another day at the office is another annoying day with your boss, which is also your ex boyfriend. Yuta is a good proof that you don’t know how to be with someone else other than yourself because you’re used to being alone that you don’t let other people inside your life. And yet, you feel lonely and you still want to try. Yuta is a great guy, but the problem is not him, it’s you.

“Well you look beautiful… and glowing” he greets you with his perfect smile before you two enter the empty and cold conference room. He recognizes that glow, and it hurts his pride that you’re fucking somebody else and not him. Even though it’s clear to him that you’re not together anymore, he still thinks he owns you.

You smiled back at him and proceed to prepare your things before the client comes in. It’s obvious that something is bothering Yuta, you wanted to ask him but you’re afraid to give him the wrong idea about you being concerned. So you focused your mind elsewhere and did not mind him further.

“Ah! Mr. Lee, welcome. Please take a seat. May I introduce you to one of my finest realtor, Ms. Y/n. Leave everything to her”

The client is facing Yuta and all you can see is his handsome figure from behind, nice ass, you thought. You put up a smile and ready yourself to shake hands with the client that will save the 127 House. “Hi Mr. Lee-“

It was truly an unexpected moment. You will never forget that angelic face that you admired so much in your dream. You try to hide your uneasiness and remained professional as you shake hands with Mr. Lee and proceed with your presentation.

During your presentation, you can’t stop thinking of the man with the same face and angelic features as Mr. Lee, fucking you senseless in your dream. It was just a dream but as you dive in more to the memory, you can almost feel the wet kisses that he left on your neck, the way he hurt you so good stretching your cunt, and his amazing duality after the sex. “…and that is all for 127 House, which will all be yours after we schedule you for a private tour so can see for yourself-“

“Tell me Ms. Y/n, do you like this house?”

“It’s one of our best, of course, sir-“

“No. I mean. Do you see yourself smiling and completely happy if you happen to own the 127 House?”

It’s a question that you can’t answer on the spot but come to think of it, yes, having a family with a big house to call it home isn’t such a bad choice in life. But for now, having a family is not on your cards clearly because you’re single at the moment and you’re not ready to have a family of your own. To answer your client’s question, “Yes, sir. I think the 127 House will change my life upside down, in and out if I happen to own it. My future children will have such beautiful home” you smiled awkwardly at him, hoping that your answer finally satisfies him.

“You’re going to be a great parent,” he says with a teasing tone that you don’t know what it’s for. You were sure that he’s smirking at you while Yuta explains the contract to Mr. Lee’s assistant and you were sure, that he has something to do with your dream. This can’t be.

As Yuta finishes the meeting with a light note and had his secretary help Mr. Lee with the contract and money talk, you can’t help but think about your future. A husband, your own house, having kids, all those things were floating in your mind. “If you wanted the house you could’ve just told me” Yuta’s voice brought you back to reality. The conference room was again empty and it’s you and Yuta were all that’s left.

“What are you talking about” you fixed your things and try to avoid Yuta’s presence.

“We could’ve been married and have kids you know,” he came close to you like he’s just about to kiss you.

“And I broke up with you for a reason, that I don’t love you anymore. Stop hurting yourself Yu, were fine now don’t ruin this” hearing that made Yuta remember the night you broke up with him. Still hurt like hell he thought.

You left him in the conference room and went back to work, went on with your usual day at the office. Busying yourself further and finishing loads of tasks before you head home. But despite your busy day, you kept on thinking about Mr. Lee over and over again, and that demon in your dream who had sex with you and told you about being great parents. Something is connecting the demon and Mr. Lee but you can’t point out what exactly.

As much as you want to deny the clues and just move forward with your life, your gut tells you that they’re the same person and there’s only one way to find out, ask the demon. But he never showed up again which leads you to your second option, contact Mr. Lee or his assistant. And as expected, they’re out of reach. It’s absurd, time wasting, and scary, but you would rather be scared of the truth than not knowing anything at all.

Night after night, you hopelessly wait for the handsome demon to visit you again. Secretly hoping that he will show up in your dream, even just for a minute no more no less, even if it’s just for sex, you just need to talk to him.

Work piles up and you continue to busy yourself selling houses, closing deals every week, watching couples be happy because they finally have a home, hoping that someday that could be you so you won’t get lonely in life. But with whom?

“You look awful, are you okay?” that’s what Yuta said instead of greeting you good morning and flirt with you like he normally does.

“Yeah. I feel like shit, but I’m fine. Maybe overworked, but I’m fine” it’s true, you don’t usually get sick because of overworking but this is different. You feel weak and tired even if you got enough sleep. Heck, even if you’re not working you’re still tired and dizzy. “So I was thinking some of the major points for the campaign-“

You didn’t finish your sentence and left Yuta in your office and ran to the nearest restroom to throw up. It was not hungover, that part you’re sure, you don’t get sick like whenever you’re tired from work. It doesn't make any sense. Then you realized, “fuck, I’m late” and there's only one person or creature to blame. Mark, the demon.

Hot tears fall from your eyes as you flush the toilet, wipe your mouth, and gather your strength to come out of the cubicle. To your surprise, Yuta was just outside the lady's restroom, waiting for you and making sure that you’re okay. He has his own thoughts and if he’s being completely honest, he’s disgusted. How can you be so stupid? Getting yourself knocked up before you even get married?

“Who’s the father?” he leaned on the door frame, arms crossed and already judging you.

“Please Yuta not now” the last thing you need right now is your ex being unreasonable.

“Are you going to keep it? I’m willing to pay for the abortion, I know you’re not yet ready” that’s it. That made you snap. Yuta is a nice person, but sometimes he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and he constantly forgets his role in your life.

“How dare you. I’m speechless Yuta. You don’t want this baby not because of the reason that I’m not ready but for your selfish reasons, which I’m not interested. You’re my boss, can I leave early?”

Of course, Yuta didn’t take it well. His pride was hurt, the baby is like an ending note for the both of you. The meaningless conversation with Yuta lasted for almost half an hour, it’s like a never ending loophole whenever you talk to him about personal issues and you hate it. With or without Yuta’s permission, you went home and take care of yourself. The pregnancy test made it official and once again, you feel lost and lonely more than ever. How can the demon do this to you? Is this some kind of joke? Or maybe you’re just a one time thing for him.

Hoping that everything will be fine once you’re all well rested, you decided to sleep it off and try to fix and handle things when you wake up. The moment you closed your eyes, you feel wet kisses all over your exposed shoulders. You even felt the bed dip as if someone joined you to bed and shared their warmth.

“Baby I’m here” Mark whispers, trying to wake you up. It may not feel like it, but you were sleeping for two hours already. “You’re not just a one time thing for me" he added.

His hot breath woke you up, and finally seeing the handsome demon again unexpectedly made you feel better and welcomed him with a warm hug. Even Mark was shocked but he accepts your hug and returned to you even more warmly. His skin is hot, or maybe that’s just his warmth. He smelled like cinnamon, hot afternoons, did he just came from hell and went straight to your apartment?  

“I didn’t show up for days because I wanted to make sure you wanted to see me” he disturbed your thoughts. Putting your hair away from your face and leaving light feathery kisses on your lips.

“Mark, I’m pregnant” you finally blurted out. Curious about what he’s going to react.

“And?” he was avoiding eye contact not because he’s shy, but because he can’t believe he can admire you closely like this and you finally know he exists. “Can we fuck first then talk later?”

You still have a lot of questions for him but he never gave you answers and it frustrates you. It’s been weeks since the last time you saw each other and he’s thinking about fucking right now. Unbelievable. “Not having sex with you until you tell me answers,” you said as gentle as possible, not wanting the demon to leave you empty handed again.

He just chuckled. Well, at least he’s not leaving yet because he’s starting to spread kisses all over your exposed skin. Feeling those incredible lips again makes you even more relaxed, his hands all around your sides roaming softly. You can’t believe you’re finally letting him in without boundaries.

“Show me your tits,” he said, lifting your thin shirt so easily.

“If I showed you my tits will you stop and finally have a decent conversation with me?”

“If you showed me your tits, baby I wont' stop. I’m here to remind you that you’re mine” he said heavily breathing from the hungry kiss biting your ears, your neck, and your lips. You pushed him away for a moment but it was a gentle push. You didn’t want to piss him off.

His hands are ready to push your bra down, he’s just waiting for you to let go and stop being a bitch. You figured you got nothing to lose so you grabbed his face and kissed him like how you missed him. Putting his hands on your boobs, guiding his hands to push down your bra and show him your tits. “That’s my girl,” he said in between kisses, feeling his warm smile before he pulls away and finally looks at your tits. “Mine,” he said, before licking a long stripe from your left nipple up to your chest, neck, and ends on your lips. Kissing you passionately before he does it again with your right boob. “Lift your chest” you followed what he said and you felt him unclasp your bra swiftly, It was a sign to remove your shirt and help him undress you.

Both naked in bed kissing like a loving couple, Mark decided to go a little easy on you tonight. After all, roughing you up is not part of his plan and purpose of his visit. He goes on top of you, lips still not leaving yours. “Did you miss me?” he asks, you can only answer using your hungry kisses. You feel his hand travel up and down your body oh so softly you’re starting to get ticklish that your lips parts because of his soft touches, he puts your panties in your mouth and your eyes widened in shock.

“I’m going to go easy on you tonight, don’t worry” he says. Mark looks handsomely scary and filthy right now in between your open legs licking your boobs and brushing his hand on your nipples making you sensitive. He reaches for your hand to suck your fingers good while looking directly in your eyes. You rolled your head back on your fluffy pillows, moaning and whimpering, letting your ruined panties in your mouth muffle the sounds that you’re making. If this was his idea of going easy then you’re fucked.

Mark let’s go of your left hand so he can touch your pussy while kissing your lower abdomen. Your hips roll uncontrollably and Mark likes the sounds that you’re making. He kneels in front of you and grabbed your free hand to pump his cock, play with its tip before he goes in. He lines his cock to your entrance and pushed in one hard thrust. Since your mouth is occupied, you can only hear Mark’s grunts while fucking you hard in the first few thrusts. It was too much, you were in tears. Sobbing and whimpering from the hurt. He noticed it. He removed your panties from your mouth crashing his lips to yours the moment he threw your wet panties away. “That was hot right?” He continues to kiss you wildly while giving you merciless thrusts. You try to breathe and catch your breath but he won't let you, “Mark, please” you call him out weakly.

“No, baby. You’re doing perfect don’t disappoint me” he kissed and kissed you until both of your lips are swollen. Thrust and thrust in your pussy until your boobs bounce nonstop and you’re on edge. The moment you reached your orgasm, Mark kissed you softly but he never stopped fucking you. You smiled at him, reaching for his face for another sweet kiss, helping him catch his sweet release.

He gave you three piercing thrusts that hurt so bad but felt so good before he pulls out and came on your pussy lips. Spreading white thick fluids all over your folds, and going in for the last time for his own satisfaction and pullout again quickly. It was a quick stretch that hurt but it was bearable.

He lay down beside you, spooning you and kissing your shoulders. Running a finger on your nipples as you both calm down and enjoy your fluffy bed and soft pillows. “As always you did good” he cuddles with you in bed, something you didn’t see coming. Even though he’s all scary and rude he’s capable of being sweet and you love it.

“How about that talk you owe me?” you kissed his neck as a way of returning the favor for making you feel good.

“Let’s go on a date. I want to do this right, it’s never my intention to scare you”

“You’re naturally scary, you don’t know that?” he smiles and made his one arm as his pillow so he can look at you properly.

“I’ll stop the baby from growing. For now. One date Y/n, and if you still hate me it’s over between us. The baby… the baby is my only way so I can stay with you forever”  

Weird. The idea of Mark leaving you doesn’t sound so good. And to be honest you want to spend more time with him. He nuzzles your armpit making you laugh and giggle and at the same time. He’s cute when he's in the good mood.

“You could have asked me to go on a date first before you knocked me up,” you kissed his cheek and watch him roll his eye at you. Handsome. So handsome you thought.

“No. Having a baby will be our priority. Please, let's be happy. I can change your life”

Unfortunately, as you listen to the handsome demon confess his feelings for you, you suddenly thought about Yuta. Your ex wanted the exact same thing and things didn’t go well between you two. There’s something different about Mark that makes you want to try and work this family thing out with him. Even if he’s a demon if he can love you unconditionally, well having a family with him isn’t so bad.

But still, you need time. And getting you pregnant first before building an established relationship is too much.

I knew you will not take it easily, and it's fine by me I have all the patience in the world.

I'm selfish but I can’t force you to love me and your love, that’s what I want. That’s why I have to win you. Even if going on dates isn’t my best way to make you fall in love with me, it’s the right thing to do.

Yes, I can force you to stay in my house with that baby, but being together without love…well, what’s the point of it?

Now, I’m sorry for getting you pregnant first. I’m desperate. I long for you. You’re like a dream that I’m willing to do everything just so you can come true.  

The most awaited dinner was full of flirting, low giggles, and honest talk. You insist on knowing him more and you’re more than happy to introduce yourself but he seems like he knew you all too well. “There’s nothing much to know about me” he takes a bite from his steak, “But let me be honest and I hope I won't scare you… I used to be your guardian angel…”

You listen to the whole story of the truth on how he used to be your guardian angel and became a demon because you embraced such pleasures in life. He told you how he fell in love with you even more when he became dark, he said that it felt good that there's nothing holding him back. “Believe it or not, I was your first. I couldn’t stomach watching you have sex with anyone else other than me” he explained further how he possessed every guy you had sex with and you find it amusing how he’s completely possessive when it comes to you.

“So Yuta?”

“Oh no no, not him. He has his own demon I can’t possess him. And that was my breaking point. When you two were together, I was broken, I feel abandoned and I secretly hope that you two break up, then it happened and I have nothing to do with it I promise. So now I’m here, taking my chance”

You question him further about your life, asking him about the things you only knew about yourself, things that only your family can answer, and not even your closest friends. Not because you doubt his honesty, but only because it's amusing to listen to him. All this time you weren’t alone. All these years of believing that you’re alone, little did you know you have Mark. The things that he’s telling you does not make you feel weird, it’s like you’re talking to a long lost friend who knew everything about you.

It’s amazing how he’s a demon but his honesty amazes you as he’s not capable of lying. Maybe he has something left from being an angel? Nonetheless, you see nothing wrong with giving him a chance to give you happiness. “Still you could have been honest first and take me on a date before you- you know”

“No, I need you to need me. That’s the only way. I’m here on a date with you because I can’t win you by playing tough, maybe I can win you by playing nice. So please stop hating me about the baby. I really want it with you” he reached for your hand on the table and caressed it with his thumb.

“I don’t hate you, Mark in fact I like you, I really do but the baby is too much. We can still try and be in a relationship without having a baby”

“Just give us a chance” he winked at you and continue eating his steak.  

As you two continue the wonderful dinner and setting aside the baby talk for the rest of the night, he filled your heart with wonderful promises that you’re looking forward to seeing him do. And while he was talking, you noticed how your heart skip a beat when he raises his eyebrows and smirk. Handsome demon, that’s what he is.

During the car ride which you don’t know where he’s taking you, he never let go of your hand, kissing the back of it whenever he can and making you giggle with his spontaneous sweetness. “Where are you taking me? I thought you’re going to drive me home”

“I am. Were going home” You turned silent when you saw the beautiful white house from afar. He brought you to 127 House. “I bought this house because you were desperate to sell it. Also, that’s why I asked you if you see yourself being happy owning the house” he added and kissed your hand again.

The house is even more beautiful at night, Mark let you admire the house as he follows you and watch you with full admiration. You love what he did to the house, rather than a mansion with a plain interior he made it look like it’s ready to be a home for a family. What you see is not a demon who manipulated you, Mark is a desperate man who’s willing to try to make you happy and who’s desperate to have a family of his own with the woman that he loves. You.

“Welcome home?” he says.

“It’s too early for that Mark, I like you but how can you be so sure about this?” his confidence amuse you.

He scoffed and raised his eyebrows on you, caging you with a warm embrace from behind as you two watch the calm water on the pool outside. “You sound like I haven’t fucked you already. I’m confident about this. Welcome home” he repeats and planted a kiss on your temple. A simple gesture that makes you happy.

As you two enjoy the comfortable silence while swaying side to side for some time, you feel his hot breath tickling the back of your neck, giving you a shiver that goes straight to your spine. You’re familiar with Mark’s presence already. A presence you always crave, something you always want near you. “What do you want to do next, beautiful?” he asks, kissing your neck and making your knees weak.

“Can we have normal sex? Without you fucking me in my dreams? Can you do that for me?”

“Of course. From now on, no more having sex in your dreams and no more possessing other humans. It’s just me now” he reaches for your lips, turning your body so you could kiss properly. You feel safe in his arms, which made you realize that he has done so much for you.

“Maybe it’s time for me to give back, Mark” he smiled, motioning you on his huge couch.

“What do you have in mind?” he removes your shoes and made you sit on his lap.

“I can start by,” you kiss him slowly on his neck, cup his face but he’s quick to kiss your hand softly, “I can start by being on top tonight, let me make you cum for as many as you want?” he chuckled low and nod his head. He sat there looking devilishly handsome, letting you do what you want as he watches you with lustful eyes.

I never thought that the date will work out and quite frankly, I’m thankful for our date. It’s the first night that I felt that I could actually be part of your life. For the first time, I feel like I’m a man and not just a fallen angel or a demon.

The way you kissed on my neck, when you smile whenever our eyes meet, how you touched me and kissed my body, the feeling of your fingertips dancing around my skin. It’s addictive. It almost felt like our first time having sex. The night I took your virginity, I couldn’t have enough of you that I keep on asking for another round if you remember.

And oh! When you held my hand while you roll your hips slowly, It was life changing Y/n.

Thank you for giving me a chance to prove my love further to you.

After having a few rounds on the couch and his huge bed, Mark is now watching you sleep beside him. Caressing your face softly as he turns this moment into a special one because his dream of sleeping beside you with his whole being finally came true. “I’m so in love with you,” he says before drifting to sleep.  

Welcoming the demon in your life was the best decision you ever made even though the baby part is still blurry. Nonetheless, Mark made you feel loved every day in many different ways. May it be through his sweet words, making love to you instead of fucking hard, holding your hand while you two watch a scary movie, or whenever he sings to you after learning a new song. For a demon who came out of hell, he’s a little sweet and romantic.

He also adapted well to this world, even found out that his eyesight is poor and that you have to get him a pair of glasses. And as he stays in this world loving you, his love for watermelons and playing with his guitar grew stronger each day too.

Seasons change and years pass by like a snap of your finger, you and Mark stayed happily together in 127 House and make it a home, even if it’s just the two of you. He made you so happy in life that you forgot life before he came.  

“Where did you find that handsome guy?” your best friend asks you while she’s slicing her son’s birthday cake. You help her with the plates while you answer every question she throws.

“Dating app” you lied and laughed at her to shut her up.

“I know that’s a lie but I don’t care. That man makes you happier than ever. What is he an angel or something?” If only she knew.

You watch Mark play with other kids, tickling their tummies as he giggles with them. Being a father suits him well and you bet he still dreams of becoming one. You almost feel sorry about it because you can’t give the only thing he asks for.

When you got home and now that Mark is balls deep inside you while you ride him deliciously, your head is not there. You kept on thinking about something and of course, Mark is quick to stop doing what he’s doing. “Hey your mind is so noisy and clouded” he’s no complaining, he’s worried about you because he can hear you but can't understand you. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?”

You lean forward to him and rest your forehead on his chest, readying yourself to finally tell him that, “I want to have a baby”

For a moment it was dead silent while you two look each other eye to eye but soon he sat up and hug you, making you moan because he’s still deep inside you. He showered you with kisses, crying tears of joy because now his life is finally complete.

“I love you. And I’m sorry for keeping you away from being a great dad-“

“You did nothing wrong. Stop apologizing” he cups your face and kissed you deeply, pulling you back on the mattress to continue what you two were doing but this time it’s for a purpose.

During your pregnancy, you’ve never seen Mark so happy.

He was by your side like the guardian angel that he used to be. Taking care of you all the way from sun up to sun down. You’ve never thought that your pregnancy will be bearable, full of happiness and laughter because of a demon who fell in love with you.

Everything was going too fast, the next thing you know is you’re already seven months pregnant and Mark is staring at your tummy for almost five minutes as he waits for his baby to kick and your tummy move and be amazed over and over again. You’re starting to doubt if he’s really a demon. “Oh! See that! He kicked!” you laughed at him as he holds your tummy with both hands and spread kisses on it.  

Things were going smoothly until the day has finally come and you’re at the delivery room fighting for your life. Quite literally. The doctors are having a huge problem pulling your baby out of your belly and they needed Mark to get out of the room because the situation became serious. He was about to lose you and the doctors want him out, of course, Mark wants to cause a scene. But he knew better. The last memory you had before closing your eyes was the door closing on Mark as he can’t do anything about it. Through a glass window, Mark sees everything that the doctors are doing to you. He wanted so bad to hold your hand so you know that you still have to fight for your life and the baby’s life.

When the baby is finally out, he was so happy to see his baby for the first that he’s sobbing and whimpering. Murmuring even that you need to wake up because finally, the baby is here. The smile painted on Mark’s face was priceless. But not for long. He knew that there’s something wrong when the doctors were staring at the baby, waiting for it to cry. Mark’s world turned black when he watches the doctor shook his head in front of him.

It was life changing.

The once happy home for you and Mark became a place so cold and gloomy as if happiness never touched the 127 House. As you’re struggling with depression, Mark embraced his anger and caused chaos everywhere. Not giving a fuck what happens to anyone because nothing can compare to the sadness that he’s feeling. It all happened for a year, which changed your relationship into small talks and cold nights. Like you two have broken up but you still live under the same roof.

But the demon loves you so much that he tried everything to pick himself up and take care of you. Your relationship was too precious for him and realized that it’s the only thing he has left. Slowly, you forgive yourself and tried to live again. Patience keeps on growing as you and Mark chose to love each other deeper and move on with what’s left with your life.

After having several check-ups, taking every advice that the doctor says, and finding out that it’s safe for you to have a baby again, you and Mark gave it another chance without hesitating. Now, you’re six months pregnant and life is slowly becoming happy again.

“Long time no see” It’s his demon best friend, Haechan. He appeared out of nowhere while Mark is having some fresh air on the balcony. Mark waits for his friend to talk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just here to let you know that your Y/n has a new guardian angel since you’ve been so busy being a human”

“Fuck- No wonder our life is so messed up right now”

“Don’t let it kill your baby again” and just like that Haechan is gone before Mark could even ask him more about this guardian angel.

When you become a parent, your child will automatically be your prize possession. But for Mark, he has two people dear in his life. Two people. That’s all he has. And he’s not going let that angel kill his baby again and make you suffer.

Mark stick to you like glue, and you noticed that he has been even more protective than ever. “I’m going to be fine, Mark. What are you so afraid of?” you kiss him before you head to the bathroom to take a pee. This part of Mark that’s so paranoid is freaking you out and scaring you sometimes. Like he’s not telling you something or he’s hiding something from you.

Mark continues to protect you from that angel, and day by day he’s becoming even more afraid of what might happen to you. If that angel is capable of killing something precious, then who knows what else can it do to harm you further.

“Do you miss being an angel?” you asked Mark while you two lay in bed closely.

“No” he answers without hesitating.

“Do you have wings back then?”

He chuckled low and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We’ve been together for many years and you’re asking me this just now? But yes. I did. And it hurt like hell when they took it off. But I was happy afterward, it simply means I can finally be with you” his happiness is evident because his smile is so bright.

“I’m sorry” you don’t know why you apologized, but maybe you just want to.

“For making me the happiest demon? Oh come on, ‘I love you, Mark’ is so much better” he was acting cute and his charms still work on you.

“I love you, Mark”

“Thanks. I know” you smack his shoulder playfully, making him laugh and tell you, “I love you too, Y/n. You know that”

There's nothing wrong with being positive in life again after going through so much pain or after losing your first baby. There’s nothing wrong with that. As you and Mark wait for your due date, days have been beautiful while you wait for the baby. You are healthy, the baby is healthy, even Mark is healthy. You really think that this is going to be different than the first. Different in a beautiful way.

When the day finally comes, you were smiling and quite excited as Mark stays by your side the whole time. He was holding your hand, helping you to breathe, and fight to achieve that happiness with you. “Breathe with me, everything will be fine,” he says, smiling so handsomely in front of your eyes. You wanted to tell him that you love so much, thank him for changing your life but saying things like that while you're pushing to bring out the baby is kind of out of the scene. So you gave him a weak smile instead.

When the doctor had finally held the baby you and Mark were so happy because you were so close to being a family now.

But you’re slowly getting weak and he watches your smile fade and your eyes close.

“Doctor we are losing here!” the nurse exclaimed. Everything is happening again, Mark thought. As he watches the doctors and the nurses do everything they can to save you, Mark stood there quietly knowing all too well how dying works.

“Y/n, you can’t die. It’s not your time yet” he said a little too loud while standing like a statue. He used to be your guardian angel, of course, he knew things like this. “Y/n, you will be fine” he exclaimed again but this time there were tears in his eyes and his voice broke.

Time suddenly stopped and the scene was oddly familiar to him, there’s an angel inside this room to bring your soul to Heaven. “No, no”. he murmurs with tears in his eyes, looking around the room waiting for the angel to appear. “I know you’re here” he turned around multiple times until your new guardian angel appears. Doyoung.

“How many babies should I bring to heaven to make you stop? Look what you made me do” Doyoung said, “It’s not her time yet but this is the only way to keep her away from you. It’s an angel baby, Mark! You know that angels are not allowed to be born other than the insides of Heaven. It’s dangerous to expose divinity in the eyes of humans. What were you thinking?”

“I did not know- please bring her back. I’ll do anything you want” Mark begs his old friend, crying and whimpering like a little boy. If only he knew from the start he wouldn’t have got you pregnant in the first place and watch you suffer two times. Now he’s mad at himself.

“It’s too late old friend, I’m just doing my job”

And even before Mark could beg more, time turned back to normal and the doctor had announced the time of your death.

What better way to be punished after betraying Heaven and Hell by taking the love of his life. Of course, the heavenly creatures will bring you to Heaven because they knew all too well that Mark can’t enter the silver city again.  

[highlifeboat]

Imagine a sick Daniela, who during a normal fever, would put on this whole dramatic display for her mother's and sister's attention, all for fun and games.

But one day, she gets sick, badly.

Not so badly that it would be fatal to her, but she's never been sick like this before and it hurts so badly, she's convinced she's going to die. Her fever starts really taking a toll on her delusions and she's crying, and grabbing at her mother, screaming, "I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die mama, I don't wanna leave!"

And even though Alcina is trying her best to reassure her and comfort her, it's just not working, Dani's in complete hysterics.

Daniela tossed and turned in her bed, unable to make herself comfortable. She was terribly hot, sweat soaking her hair and face as she leaned over the edge to vomit. It felt like acid burning in her throat, and was torturously slow, creeping up her esophagus until it reached the top and she could purge it into the bucket. She didn’t understand, she’d never been sick like this before. Sure, she suffered the odd cold and put on a dramatic show for her sisters and mother from time to time, but this was worse. So much worse. It felt like her intestines were going to rip themselves from her body. Like her bones and muscles were rusting into place. Her skin was on fire and she wanted nothing more than to rip it off just so she would stop sweating. It hurt so much. Every single part of her screamed when she moved.

It felt like torture.

Was she dying? Is this what dying was like? The thought made her sob. “That must be it. You’re dying, you’re dying.” Voices sang in her ears, and she pressed her palms against them in hopes of blocking it out.

“No!” She yelled back, claws digging into the side of her head. Tears poured from her eyes like rivers, and it burned almost as much as her skin. Shadows shifted into faceless human-like creatures around her, smiles on their otherwise blank faces.

“Oh yes, oh yes!” They retorted. “Poor Daniela’s last day! No love for you beyond the grave!”

“Shut up!” She sobbed, shaking her head. “Shut up! SHUT UP!” At some point in her thrashing she fell out of her bed. The shadows seemed to approach her, she could almost feel their hands on her skin as they continued to mock her.

“Dani’s gonna die! Dani say goodbye!” They cheered at her. “Look at Dani cry! A girl afraid to die!”

She let out a scream. It ripped her throat like a bear tearing into its prey, but it was nothing compared to the burning throughout her body and the pounding in her head. Her breathing started to strain. She felt like she was suffocating. Even her sobbing felt muffled by the taunting buzz of voices. “MAMAA!”

Alcina had heard the initial scream from nearly halfway across the castle. The sound of Daniela’s banshee-like screech made her blood run cold, and she turned from the maiden she had been in the middle of scolding in favour of running to her daughter’s bedroom. The second scream of “MAMA!” only pushed her to run faster. Her heart was pounding in her chest by the time she had reached the girl’s door, and the moment she opened it she nearly froze.

Her youngest daughter was on her bedroom floor, tangled in her sheets, and crying so hard her breaths came out as harsh wheezes, pounding her head with the heel of her palms.

“Daniela!” Alcina quickly got down in front of her, gently grabbing the girl’s hands and holding them against her head. “Daniela, look at me.” Her youngest daughter coughed and violently shook her head. “Please, darling, it’s only me. It’s just Mama.”

Daniela whimpered, squinting her eyes open. “M-M-Mama?”

“Yes, little one. I’m here.”

A series of whimpers escaped the young woman, and Alcina didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Daniela was back into hysterics, grabbing onto her mother’s dress. “Mama, I don’t wanna die!” She cried. “Please, PLEASE! I don’t wanna die!” She worked herself into a coughing fit, claws starting to tear into the fabric of Alcina’s dress. “It hurts, Mama! It hurts so much!”

Alcina pulled the girl into an embrace, holding her tight despite the sharp talons pushing into her ribs. “Daniela, it’s okay.” She tried to hush the girl. “You’re not dying. You’re just sick. You’re going to be fine.” She rocked slightly, hoping the motion would at least ease her daughter’s mind.

“P-Please, I don’t wanna go! I don’t want to leave!” Daniela sobbed. “I’m scared! I’m scared! Make it stop, Mama, make it stop! Please, Mama!”

Alcina swallowed. “I can’t, little one. I’m so sorry, I wish I could, but I can’t.” She hated to see one of her children in so much distress. This was far beyond her daughter’s usual dramatics, the poor girl was almost completely delusional.

“PLEASE!” Daniela started to choke on her cries, and Alcina pulled back and took the girl’s face in her hands. “Pl-ease, Mo-ommyyy!”

“Daniela, look at me. Look at Mama.” She pressed her forehead against Daniela’s so the girl would focus on her. “Listen to me. Deep breaths, okay? One, two, three, in-” She took a long inhale.

Daniela took a shaky inhale as well.

“And out.” She exhaled.

Daniela exhaled.

They repeated the process a handful of times before Daniela collapsed against her. She was still muttering about dying, that it hurt, she was scared, but she seemed to be tiring herself out. Alcina felt horrible that she couldn’t do anything more than hold her and watch her shake, and cursed whatever cruel God would put such a horrendous sickness onto one of her babies.

“‘M so tired….” Daniela eventually muttered, voice quivering.

“You need to rest, little bug.” Alcina informed her softly. “You won’t get better if you don’t sleep.”

“But…. w-what if I don’t wake up?” The question made her heart sink.

“You will, my beautiful girl.” She ran a hand through the long side of Daniela’s hair. “I’ll make sure of it.”

[astaroth1357]

Congratulations!! So happy for you!! Do you mind writing a HC for the Tiny!MC, where the brothers see Tiny!MC in trouble with some lesser demons? Like, the lesser demon is bullying them or about to hurt them, how would the brothers react? You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to tho. Again Congratulations!!!

Demon Brothers React to Tiny!MC Being Threatened by Lesser Demons

You know, my first thought was "Which one of you fuckers lost tiny!MC in the first place?? Bad demons! Worse than usual! Keep better track of your itty-bitty human!"

Pretty much uses the same continuity to the rest of my Tiny!Series, I put this somewhere during the “Lucifer, I Shrunk Myself...” portion.

Warnings: Violence, Overly Protective Behavior

Intro:

Five minutes. Their demonic guardian said they were only going to put them down for Five. Minutes. It shouldn't have been that dangerous, or even risky, because everyone should have known that tiny!MC was under their protection. Sure, an itsy-bitsy human would make a perfect snack... but who would want to provoke the wrath of the student council for no reason??… Okay so, lesser demons aren’t exactly known for their intelligence but still...

This is not going to end well...

Lucifer

Doesn’t that lowlife know who he's messing with? Lucifer almost pities him for being so stupid, really…

He brought tiny!MC out to the gardens at their request because they were getting restless being stuck in his room. It wasn't supposed to be a dangerous area so he felt fine leaving them briefly to answer a call from Diavolo. When he came back he found a lesser demon standing over them... drooling...

What came out was a rather chilling side of Lucifer normally only seen by Mammon. One where he can walk up to a person, demon form out in full, then drag them away by the collar with an eerily calm smile on his face.

Tiny!MC didn't see what Lucifer did to the demon… but they did hear Cerberus get summoned before the firstborn returned to them. Their imagination worked to fill in the blanks…

Lucifer apologized to them rather kindly (a real rarity for him) but they noticed he cut their visit short and took them back to the House quickly. They got the sense he'd rather they be safe but bored in his room than entertained but vulnerable to such a dangerous world…

Mammon

Pfffffft, Mammon is protective of MC even when they’re normal-sized. Them being tiny doesn’t change much.

He had brought them along with him for one of his gambling nights. Unfortunately, he got too absorbed in the game to notice a group of lesser demons getting closer to tiny!MC than they really should have… At least until they shouted for his help.

It's rare to see Mammon mad. It really is. But there was nothing but pure rage in his eyes when he grabbed one of the demons by the throat and sent him crashing through the roulette tables. His speed made it pretty easy for him to round up all the others that tried to scatter and he gave them a similar treatment.

After everyone was thoroughly on the ground, bleeding, he asked the MC if they were hurt. If they were, then that'd just earn the downed demons another round of his fury. No one hurts his human like that! Big or small.

He'll apologize a whole bunch for letting his guard down… but also complain a little on the way back to the House because his luck was just starting to turn around too! 😖😞

Leviathan

Direct confrontation isn’t something Levi finds himself in often… but there can be exceptions.

He and tiny!MC were in one of the few stores in town that sold otaku goods and he had set them down to do some browsing in that hyper, distracted fanboy way he gets.

A couple of lesser demons were just some other patrons who happened by them, but who could pass up such a convenient snack?

Well, tiny!MC was convenient until the guys heard what was probably the world's most unholy hissing sound coming from the other side of the room…

Levi has never claimed to be at the peak of demonic prowess or anything, but just this once he was at their defense at a speed he’s never pulled off before. In practically a blink of an eye, he has one asshole lifted by the collar and the other getting crushed by his tail. It wasn't a pretty sight...

After the threat was dealt with, he snapped right back into the same ol'Levi like nothing ever happened, though. Blubbering apologies and frantically checking to be sure they were unharmed... What a somewhat terrifying sweetheart. 🤭

He pretty much refused to take them anywhere again until they were back to normal. Who needs the real world anyway?? His room is the only place they ever need to be!

Satan

You know this is exactly why he kept them so close in the first place...

Satan had to retrieve a book from the highest shelf in the RAD library so he set tiny!MC down in order to climb the ladder. A small gang of lesser demons decided to strike while he was up there browsing...

When he slid back down and turned to see the demons had surrounded the table that he left tiny!MC at, his shout alone was powerful enough to rattle the shelves behind him...

Needless to say, the Avatar of Wrath made very short work of the threat. And a library ladder can make a surprisingly versatile weapon if you put it in the hands of someone pissed enough to use it... and strong enough to rip it off its sliding track… What was it? Metal? Steel? Eh, not strong enough to stop an angry Satan anyway.

After the dust settled, he double-checked to be sure the MC was okay and apologized for being so careless... But they could tell he was still trying his best to regain his composure post berserker freakout. Someone's going to have to nurse those bloody knuckles for him later...

His overprotective instincts tripled afterward. If you think that Satan was ever going to put them down again then that’s a fantasy. Between the lesser demons and that sly bastard Solomon, tiny!MC was never leaving his hand at RAD again. Period.

Asmodeus

Excuse me?? Some lesser demon was doing what now?! Oh HELL no!! Not to his adorable tiny!MC!!

Asmo was shopping with tiny!MC and set them down outside a dressing room while he tried on a cute outfit. Apparently, a lesser demon was doing the same in the stall next to him and came out to find a little human waiting patiently outside… powerless… vulnerable… and tasty!

Asmo opened the door right as the demon picked tiny!MC up to have a bite. The fifthborn's scream shattered all the mirrors in the store like he was some kind of infuriated opera singer then he ripped the demon a very verbal (and physical) new one...

Once the attacker was pretty much decimated, Asmo tended to the MC like they'd just gotten dragged through an active war zone. He asked them, "Are you okay?!" so many times that the words "I’m fine" pretty much lost all meaning...

The sheer carnage left the store employees too damn petrified to ask him to leave so he bought the (now ruined) outfit he had on and took them right home. His sweet tiny!MC was definitely getting a spa treatment that night as an apology… Poor thing...

Beelzebub

Apparently, some people just want to go bear poking for fun...

He and tiny!MC were outside a food stall and he had set them down to go wait in line. In hindsight, he probably should have known the meals would attract other hungry demons… ones that wouldn't mind a free snack… And tiny!MC got cornered pretty quickly while his back was turned.

Those demons might have thought twice about their plan, though, if they had known Beel would attack them with the entire stall itself. 😰

Poor tiny!MC, by some miracle, barely got out of the way of the wooden structure crashing down on top of their attackers as if dropped by the heavens in a fit of rage... Those not crushed under the wreckage got squashed under Beel's fists...

In the aftermath, Beel was barely recognizable when he picked them back up, holding his bitty human so close that they might have suffocated against his chest. Even the stall's very upset owner just backed away from him after getting a ferocious snarl…

It took him a couple hours to calm back down… Then a couple hundred apologies to Lucifer who has to foot the bill for that guy's ruined livelihood… But hey, no one would ever be dumb enough to touch his tiny!MC again. 

Belphegor

Heeeey! Picking on tiny!MC is his thing! Like he’s going to let anyone else give them any grief…

Belphie likes to hide on the roof of RAD sometimes to take a midday nap so he thought it would be funny to hide tiny!MC from the others by taking them with him one afternoon. Both were peacefully napping when a lesser demon apparently had the same idea and found them.

Belphie woke up when he heard their distressed cries and saw the demon trying to carry tiny!MC away... Oh, he wasn't having that.

Belphie shot up and snapped the scumbag's wrist to get tiny!MC free before he effortlessly sent him flying over the edge in one fell swoop. Give this to the Avatar of Sloth, when he does get moving he’s pretty efficient.

The demon's fall got cushioned by a grove of trees below, which earned Belphie a slightly less severe lecture from Lucifer. He did, however, get a pretty rough one from Satan anyway because he took the MC like that in the first place…

Beel took custody of tiny!MC yet again but even he was grateful to his twin for protecting their little human. Tiny!MC noticed Belphie started sleeping a little lighter when he knew they were around, but he'd deny that any supposed “guilt” had anything to do with it… Whatever he says, I guess. 🙄

[norcumii]

TW: abuse, suicide, depression, fandom wank, purity culture

There’s a post floating around this corner of fandom recently, by someone claiming to be fifteen:

if ur like at or over the age of 30 and u invest time into fandom spaces and shipping please touch a blade of grass. pay ur taxes or something. log off

Now, I’m not reblogging their post with this commentary because I’ve blocked them and that seems unfair and unkind, but also because they’re fifteen, and if that doesn’t entitle one to have ridiculous opinions on the internet, what does?

But I do have some words I need to say.

I was over thirty when I fell into the Clone Wars fandom. I used to have been in Star Wars – I gave it up during the Prequels era (when they were in the theaters and everything), because it didn’t hold my interest. Looking back, it’s because I didn’t have access to the information that Wookieepedia provides, and the insights provided by experience and life – and thus understanding of politics and humanity in general.

And that’s ok. I still have very fond memories of my older-than-thirty parents letting me stay up late to watch the OT, and even fonder memories of my grandmother enjoying sitting down with me and VHS tapes of Return of the Jedi – her favorite of the trilogy.

I fell back into the fandom in 2014 – after the Clone Wars series ended. I was over thirty. I was suicidal. I was stuck in an abusive relationship. I woke up each morning sleep deprived and regretting I had to face yet another day.

I was just killing time because I wasn’t brave enough to kill myself – and the attempts I did make proved I wasn’t very good at that, either.

But in the process of just marking time, I read fic because I had just enough energy to be able to immerse myself in stories that had roots in movies and shows I used to like. I could find some smidge of enjoyment in further, non-canonical adventures, and ANY smidge of enjoyment those days was a gods-damned miracle.

I got on tumblr. I found other fandom people. One of them recommended The Clone Wars if I wanted to watch something, and hey, it was on Netflix.

I cried within five minutes of starting the first episode. The voice acting, the sounds – this was a fragment of my childhood I hadn’t realized I had missed. It reminded me of my dead grandmother, some of the good times with my family that by then, lived far away – and seemed even further away from the daily hell I called a life.

I fell in love with the clones: the potential, the romance and the tragedy of it all. Then slowly, so slowly I didn’t realize it was happening, a thought began to settle into my head.

I loved these characters, these clones who had nothing, who were stuck in a terrible situation with no escape, and I felt both fondness and outrage at their circumstances. I wanted better for them. I wanted them to have good lives, good opportunities, a chance to escape to become whatever they might want to be.

And maybe....

If I could care about that many imaginary people....

If I could look at these folks who didn’t exist and say “this isn’t fair, this isn’t right, you matter”–

Maybe –

Maybe I might matter too. Maybe I might deserve better. Oh, there was no question in my mind that they were far better beings than I ever might be, but there were too many parallels, of being trapped by a supposed benevolent dictator who was actually a manipulator draining everything from them – I wasn’t as, would never be as deserving, but....

I could make these absolutist statements about the clones. The Jedi. Hell, even the corrupt Republic deserved better than what Sidious wrought.

What made me so much worse that I might deserve what my abuser put me through?

Then I cautiously started asking these questions of myself, and asking other questions of those around me – fandom people, since my abuser kept me far too busy to make friends in brick space. These fandom people who were certainly above the twenty year mark, and more than a few who were also above thirty. They reassured me of various points of reality: no, what I was experiencing wasn’t normal; no, folks in relationships don’t argue like that. They could rec fic to me, stories with relationships like mine that were tagged “abuse” so I could recognize it, so I could read it and go “oh, that’s what a more normal person would do.”

I could cry about my circumstances and not feel like a useless, whiny little bitch who just needed to be better, who should be perfect all the time, who needed to be there for her guy because that’s what people do when they care.

I could look at that last sentence, and go “wait. People who care about their partners don’t demand that of them, especially not when it is literally killing them.” If I imagined any person treating the clones the way my abuser treated me, the sheer outrage was off the charts.

Star Wars – Star Wars fandom – quite literally saved my life.

While I was in my thirties.

Those fans, those friends, and the communal appreciation for the clones and all the rest of the mess that is Star Wars were reasons to live when I have tried giving up on everything else.

So yeah, I’m not gonna dogpile on some kid who thinks that after thirty you’re not allowed any good or fun things in life. But I do need to say “thank you” to you – all of you, those reading this who have any participation in fandom.

You’re lifesavers.

Thank you.

Thank you, and please, keep enjoying fandom for as long as you want. We all have different reasons we’re here, but we all have a right to live, to exist, and be happy.