#or ruins us completely with a dagger through the heart

[regretfullyrave]

As a V fan my reaction is just

:D first time?

[thecampjuicebox]

Astarion relationship headcannons that I cannot stop from absolutely ✨rotting my brain✨(SFW & NSFW)

Early on in your relationship, he would be absolutely caught off guard by any sort of affection, and would probably prefer much smaller forms; gentle brushes of your hands together. A passing kiss on the shoulder. Small acts of service like sharing a piece of food, fixing an out of place curl, adjusting the ruffles on his tunic, etc.

Once he becomes more comfortable, he'd search for more frequent displays of affection throughout the day, probably whining if he goes too long without a touch or a kiss or a hug. He'd pull you to him in front of the others in camp just to hear them snicker and groan at how disgustingly cute the two of you are. Cup your cheek and hold your gaze as his lips hover over yours to tease you before kissing you like he's out of breath and you're his only source of oxygen.

He'd hold you by the hips when walking through the city. Or the hand. Or the back of the shirt. The pocket. The beltloop. Anything to keep constant contact and subtly but not subtly show everyone you belong to him.

Clingy? Yes. Possessive? Secretly. But not really. He'd shoot eyes like daggers at anyone that looked at you with too much interest. He'd mostly keep quiet about it, the fear of upsetting you much more important to him than how he feels about the situation (absolutely to his detriment)

He'd probably try and teach you how to sew. How to fix garments, make new ones, hem pants and tunics, anything he'd deem useful information if for some reason the two of you were to separate or be separated (Not that he'd expect that to happen, or would allow it). He'd see it as a bonding opportunity, for sure.

In the beginning of your relationship he would still offer sex regularly, even though he'd still struggle with actually enjoying the act. He'd put all of his focus on you, your pleasure, how you're feeling, what you want, etc.

When you'd offer to reciprocate, he wouldn't know how to feel. He'd always been made to perform and give instead of receiving and it would take a long long time for him to become okay with it again. You'd be patient, though. And he'd appreciate it more than he could ever express in words.

Once he IS okay with sex again, my gods he'd out-do himself each and every time.

He'd do his best to make it as romantic as possible at first. A warm bath to soothe your muscles, candles, a good meal, a massage, he'd brush your hair, butter you up as much as possible before absolutely ruining you for hours on end.

That time of the month? No problem. He'd relish in your moon blood. Take his time with you. Little bites in your inner thighs so you're reminded of him the following day. Bruising kisses, exploring you with his tongue, tasting every last drop like he's starved. All the while being as gentle as possible with his hands and his words. Help clean you up, lest a single drop be wasted. Not on his watch!

He'd definitely be the type to talk you through your orgasm. Tell you how beautiful/handsome you are, cumming for him. Stare into your eyes and watch as you unravel completely. Kiss you so you're forced to moan into his mouth. He wants to taste your pleasure. Taste your desperation for closeness. And he'd deliver each and every time.

When it comes to his pleasure, I think he'd be relatively simple. Sweet kisses along his cold skin, enjoying the warmth of your hands and lips all over his body. He'd prefer you on top so he can watch you the entire time, or have you pressed tightly to his chest so he can hear your heart quicken and your blood rush through your veins. A symphony to his ears. Your life force, your sweet nectar, all driving him absolutely mad as you ravish each other.

I live and die by this, Astarion would be BIG into aftercare. Giving it and receiving it. Kisses, cuddles, cleaning each other up, picking out comfortable clothing for bed or just stayed pressed together in the nude.

Sleeping next to Astarion would never be truly sleeping NEXT to him. He'd bury his face in your breasts or neck. Or rest his head on your stomach and giggle at the gurgling noises it makes. Tangle his legs with yours, hold your hand, press your foreheads together, anything to be as close as possible. Eventually this becomes the only way he can sleep. The only thing to keep his nightmares at bay.

I hope you guys enjoy my lil headcannons. I'm sure they're not much different from others, but my gods do I think about these REGULARLY.

[berryz-writes]

To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part

Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate

Note: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST be nice<3. also yes i will be reverting to fluff again. its my little cosy corner :)

The dry, bland taste of the oats coated Azriel's tongue and he fought to swallow it down. A fight similar to his will to get out of bed every morning. Also similar to the fight of carrying on each day.

Mindlessly stirring his food which had now gotten cold he thought about what he would do for Star fall next week. Maybe he would get drunk so he wouldn't remember the night. Or maybe he would go up to the balcony to get the "best view" but in fact sulk in a corner because he didn't have a special someone to share the night with.

Pulling himself back to reality and berating himself for being ungrateful and forgetting about how much his family had done for him, Azriel watched one of his shadows depart and slowly move across the table until it had reached the open French doors. He tried calling it back but to no avail. Taking a deep breath Azriel continued eating, his shadows were always up to something. Maybe it was bringing back important information. Like maybe who his mate was.

His heart became heavy again at the thought. Still no mate. Azriel had seen so many things, lived through so much and sometimes he thought he deserved a mate. Sometimes when he wasn't so absorbed in self hate he thought to himself maybe he did deserve a mate like Rhys had Feyre or Cassian had Nesta. The thought left him as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, he didn't deserve a mate. He would ruin her. He wasn't good enough. No where near good enough.

Scoffing at himself for even going down the path of thinking he out of all people could have a mate, he carried on eating his oats, finishing them in record time to get to training with the Valkyries and the priestesses.

***

"Isn't that your shadow?" Nesta asked pointing toward a lone shadow which was making it's way back in to the house, moving across the training ring floor and the edges of the walls before it disappeared completely. She was laying down on the mat, sweat dripping down her face. It had been an intense training session, Nesta having started to channel her anger into physical exercise resulted in Azriel having to hold the punching pads tighter than usual. He was happy for her. Glad she was better now and getting used to her fae body.

"It is" Azriel replied, his confusion increasing slightly. They were acting extremely strange. And the one that had left this morning still hadn't come back. Not to mention the shadows still with him were dancing around as if they were waiting for something. He shrugged it off. It was probably a new bakery or some drama from Velaris they had picked up on. Nosy pricks.

Nesta's silver eyes held concern, "Are you okay?" She bit her lip there was something like recognition in her eyes, as if she once held the same vacant stare that he did. "Are they usually like this?" Nesta questioned again, sitting up and trying to read his expression. He shook his head, flipping his water flask upside down to realise it was empty "They'll come back eventually"

She stood up and brushed her clothes down "You could get it checked. I heard Madja's working late today"

Azriel tried not to get angry. It wasn't as if she would know how it was basically impossible for any healer to ever help him.

"We'll see" He replied instead, already brushing the idea away. All he'd get was an afternoon wasted and a whole lot of poking at his back and wings. It wasn't that big of a deal. Well...that's what he hoped.

***

Flipping the dagger in his hand he began to sharpen the other side, making sure it was as sharp as possible so it would make a clean cut. He didn't need more blood on his hands. Well more than usual anyway. Looking to his right he saw Cassian stretching out his wings and yawning "I'm off to bed. Don't stay up past your bedtime" He grinned. Azriel shook his head a smile on his face even though the joke wasn't funny.

"I won't" Azriel lied. Cassian looked at him for longer than usual as if trying to figure something out. Of course he didn't. Azriel's secrets were too well hidden.

"I'm here if you ever need to talk" Cassian said resting a hand on his shoulder. Azriel gave him a rare smile and patted his hand "I know brother"

Leaving him to sit peacefully on the roof Azriel looked up at the sky. Automatically his eyes searched for the one star constellation he loved. Lyra it's name was. His mother had pointed it out to him when he was young. Said it was one of the constellations that would never leave him. Sometimes it felt like this constellation was the only stable thing in his life. Something that would never leave him and so far it was living up to it's reputation.

***

All fucking night his shadows had been restless, moving about and not letting him get one minute of sleep. Yes he ran on 4 hours of sleep perfectly fine but his shadows didn't even let him close his eyes for one minute without being irritating. Not to mention his shadows from previously hadn't come back. What the fuck was their problem?

Finally giving up he went down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and stomped upstairs on to the balcony. His shadows were still making incessant noises and moving around too much for this early in the morning. Azriel walked over to the edge of the roof, standing on the edge and freefell down down down.

The air hit him at the perfect angle and gods did he wish he could keep falling. If he hadn't opened his wings at the right time he would have died but who really cared? It was just him after all.

He flew over Velaris, the sun barely visible resulting in a still and quieter city at this time. Not to mention it was Saturday, most of the fae probably nursing their hangovers right now. He veered left toward the Sidra, going past Feyre's bright and cosy artists corner, following his shadow at a leisurely pace as it stopped in front of what seemed to be a row of houses. They were bright and colourful, pale pinks and bright blue's, pleasing to look at. Settling on the roof of a house opposite them he watched the sun rise, his shadows finally calm. It felt like his heart was calm too.

A few minutes of sitting led to one of the rooftop doors opening and......and Azriel couldn't describe what and who stepped out.

She was a goddess.

She was the fulfilment of his dreams.

She was the most ethereal fae he had seen.

She was...gods words couldn't describe her never ending beauty. Moving toward her flowers towards the right of the roof she began to water them, her soft brown hair falling forward and covering her face slightly. His heart hurt. He didn't know why.

He could stare at her for an eternity. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her pink lips looked like they could say the sweetest words. Like they could soothe any pain he had from one whisper of her sweet voice. He swallowed.

He wanted to talk to her. Enjoy her company. Make her smile. Make her laugh. Watch as her eyes brightened because of him.

He could change. For her he could, he thought to himself as she stood up from watering the roses and looked at the sun rise too.

Her cheeks held a slight blush, hair dishevelled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Azriel was cataloguing each and every thing about her, storing it into his memory to cherish.

Clenching his fists and readying himself, memorising what he would say to this oh so gorgeous female he extended his wings.

Softly landing behind her, he felt like his tongue was twisted. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her arms wrapped around herself.

Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. She whipped round and it felt like time stopped.

Her hand rested on her chest and her eyes were wide with surprise. Beautiful. That was all that went through his mind as he drank her in, looking at each and every perfect feature.

"Who are you?" His heart felt like it would burst from happiness. Her voice was music to his ears. She had straightened up slightly, her shocked expression gone as she patiently waited for Azriel to speak. He didn't want to. What if he messed it up?

"Azriel. Sorry I....I didn't mean to invade your privacy I-" He cleared his throat cursing under his breath for his stupid twisted tongue. Her lips turned up in a small smile as if she was encouraging him, waiting for him to finish. Like she actually cared for what he had to say.

"I just saw you watching the sunset- not that I was watching you...I meant I just saw you here-" A small laugh escaped her as she watched him struggle. He knew one thing. It was that his heart was no longer his. It was hers. His soul belonged to her. His broken and bloody soul was hers however much it had gone through.

Falling in love was impossible he used to think but looking at her now, he thought it possible.

He was so busy in trying to memorise her face he didn't realise his shadows from earlier swirling around her wrists and waist as if they had found their home.

"It's alright. Lets watch the sunset together, the view's gorgeous from here" Her soft voice beckoned him closer and as she turned back around her arm knocked one of the vases. She turned around trying to grab it and in that split second, she fell.

Over the roof and down to where Azriel couldn't see her.

His heart raced as he ran to the edge and jumped down onto the concrete floor, using his wings to slow his descent.

He had heard the sickening thud when she had fallen but he refused to believe it.

He watched as her lifeless body lay there.

Still.

The life in her completely gone. Silence rang in his ears, his throat closed up, he wanted to rip out his heart. Why?

Why?

Why?

Why was all he could think about it as he looked at her broken form. Blood pooled from her head, a puddle of deep red gathering around her hair. His shadows swarming around her, frantically trying to do something.

Maybe if he weren't so useless. Maybe if he had any dignity or shame he wouldn't have stared on and could have helped her. It felt like his voice was lost.

He looked at her dead eyes and when he did it snapped. The golden thread sparkling between the two of them, connecting them, before dying out again. The moment of completeness vanished in a split second.

Mate.

She was his mate.

He let out a tortured scream, his own voice ringing in his ears. His legs weakened as he dropped to the ground next to her, his energy depleted.

Tears slipped down his face and for the first time he didn't wipe them away. Didn't berate himself for crying because this....this was a tragedy everyone should have cried over. But instead it was only him watching her once smiling face lay face down on the concrete.

Why was it him? He hadn't even gotten to see her smile properly because of him. Hadn't been able to hear her speak completely. Hadn't heard the sweet words she was sure to voice if he ever got the chance to get to know her. 

His eyes wouldn't leave her body as he choked out sobs, eyes blurry and wanting to look away from her limp body at the same time. His....His mate.

The word left him feeling empty. All he wanted was right in front of him except she was gone. She was dead and it was because of him.

His hands shook, his control slipping away as time passed, slowly reaching for her. He gently touched her hair ever so softly as if maybe she were sleeping and she would wake up. Slowly moving it to the side, he could finally see her beautiful beautiful face. A face which had been removed of all colour and life.

A strangled sound escaped him as he looked on unable to tear his eyes away. His heart fractured into so many pieces he didn't know what he'd do anymore. How could he live without her? Life wasn't worth living without her.

His mate.

Tears made his vision blurry as he tried to memorise her perfect features. She was a poem he would never be able to memorise. She was the dream he was always so far from reaching. She was his except she wasn't. Not anymore. Because she was gone.

He wished he could take her place. Wished he had died after seeing his mate. He would have died happy. Finally would know what true happiness was before dying.

Any alternate way of living his heart didn't know how to. Without her in his life he couldn't search for any reason for continuing on.

Gods he didn't even know her name. At the thought of this his lips pressed together trying to stop the heart wrenching scream he wanted to release. He didn't even know her damn name.

His mate.

His mate who was lying dead in front of him. Looking down at his hands he saw they were shaking, so was his body. He didn't deserve to live. This perfect female in front of him wasn't able to live her life so why should he, a broken and unlovable torturer?

The glint of his dagger beckoned to him. It would be oh so easy to end things now. Stab himself through the heart and lay down, lifeless just like his mate. At least they would die together. Taking out his dagger he looked at. Really looked at it.

The fates had known.

This was why he had sharpened his dagger. For this exact reason.

If his mate didn't deserve to live neither did he. He lifted the dagger, tears streaming down his face, his heart broken in too many places to fix, no one left for him in this world. Looking at his mates face for the last time he pushed the dagger straight into his heart.

Fitting ending he supposed. After all the killing he had done, he had ended his own life. Blood seeped from the stab wound but he didn't care. He tried to touch her face one last time, extending his hand,  but he couldn't. Because he had collapsed onto the cold floor next to her, unable to touch her for the first and last time.

He was damned. His fate was unlucky.

He was a bastard who didn't deserve anything.

Without even realising his shadows had left him too.

"LYRA" A heart wrenching scream echoed in his ears as the blood emptied out his body. That was his mate's name.

Lyra

If he were still alive he would have smiled and cried at the irony of it all but he wasn't. His eyes now stared straight up as his heart no longer pumped blood.

A fae walking past would see it as a tragedy but it was more than that. It was a man who would never get a happily ever after no matter how much he wished for it. It would be a story passed down to generations. A story with no happy ending.

***

If only Azriel had known that he was in fact loved. That he did have people that held him close to their heart

If only he had known.

Rhys who was waiting in his meeting room for their debrief.

Cassian who had set up a game of chess for him and Azriel to play.

Nesta who thought up new techniques for fighting that she would show him the next morning.

Feyre who was painting his portrait in her art studio.

Nyx who was waiting for his favourite uncle to come home so they could fly together.

Little did they know Azriel would never come home again.

....first and last time writing angst :) if u can even call it that

MASTERLIST

[sugaimhome]

i don’t care - min yoongi - one shot

genre : fantasy, smut, enemies to lovers 

pairing: min yoongi x reader

summary: he was the villain. you were the hero. yoongi will make you his.

warnings: sexual content, slight dom + sub thing, missionary, doggy, unprotected sex, creampie, he slaps her like once but its not abusive, sex in a church tower, yoongi can’t not be rough (he has a breakdown over it) fantasy au. villain yoongi. starts yandere then changes. daechwita yoongi but not the one with long hair the one with the undercut.

words: 5k

A/N: not sure if i like this. not proof read. i tried to write yoongi as yandere the whole way through but i just have a soft spot for this man and couldn’t do it.

do not interact if you are a minor!

This whole villain thingy was a lot easier for Yoongi before you came along. He was doing so well, he'd killed half of his opponents, most of the good guys and was so close to getting what he had wanted. Now all his plans had been put aside. He no longer wanted the most power in the world, he wanted you. It was so wrong, he knew that, you were the hero and he was the villain, but he was the villain and he had to maintain his reputation of being twisted and corrupted. It was only natural, only what had to be done, he was going to risk everything for you.

You, however, had been completely oblivious to Yoongi's very obvious change of heart. Your goal was to keep your family and home safe; not to fall almost dramatically in love with your main rival. And you wouldn’t, you’d promised yourself that.

Nightfall seemed to come earlier tonight, families walked the streets using small candles to light their way, bright cat eyes shone in the dim flames. It was the village's annual celebration of their king, and you’d remained at the top of the church tower scouting for Yoongi because you were sure he wouldn’t pass on such a rare opportunity to ruin the joy and beauty of such a unique event. You watched each family pass, some of the children looking up and pointing at you through the dark night, you ducked behind the spire each time with a small smile on your face as you listened to their words. “It’s her Mama, the one who saves us!” 

Your heroism was about being a hero, of course, but you also liked the attention.

When you return from the cover of the spire, something has changed. The family had gone, you’d ensured they would be gone by the time you’d turned around, but they seemed to be the last. The village square, without their dim candle lights, had fallen into complete darkness. You smile, deciding that the newfound darkness and quiet meant everyone had returned home and, disappointingly, Yoongi had missed his chance. No chance for heroism tonight. You take one last look at the square before skidding down the side of the slanted roof, your feet playing the tiles like a piano. You stop at the edge, then dramatically step backwards off the side.

You often used the church spire as a lookout, and this move was completely natural to you. Grabbing the gutter, that squeaks under your weight, you catapult into the lantern, where they keep the bells, and freeze. He’s there, the scarred side of his face being lit by the full moon. He's looking at you, not with cruelty but with the same emotions he has when about to go on a mission.

“Did I miss the fun?” he asks, tilting his head mockingly. He's so close to you, he must have known that you would land exactly here at this moment. It unsettles you to know he's been here before, watching you in a place you thought was your own. A place you thought was to your advantage.

"It's only just begun" you sneer back, reaching down for the dagger tucked between your sock and your boot. It's not there. You panic, stepping back a bit before your legs hit the side of the church. The wall only reaches up to your knees and the sudden contact knocks you off balance. You flay your arms around like a bird in flight, apart from you're not a bird. You're falling, what a shit way to die. 

As your arms flap around, all the decisions Yoongi made seem to hit him all at once. He should let you fall. But he can't do that, so he reaches out and grabs you by the arm, your skin is cold, he feels the sudden urge to warm you up.

Your first thought when the hand touches your arm is that he's pushing you. Pushing you over the side of the church as a real villain would do. Yet, somehow you weren't falling, you were being pulled closer to him, your chests fall together and your breathing syncs as one. You should be moving away from him, away from the villain. But you don’t. 

Yoongi is surprised when you don't push away from him, he certainly thought it would be a harder task to make you his. Confidence fills his mind, power moves every muscle in his body. He places his hand on the back of your waist, ensuring that you don't move away from his chest. His other hand flings his dagger (it was your dagger until he stole it from your boot earlier, but he figured that wasn't the point here) off the side of the church. He thinks he can hear it clatter to the cobblestones below, but that would be impossible, they are as high as the clouds. Do the clouds hear the rain as it beats the fields below them?

When the dagger goes flying off the side of the church everything changes. You were two equals now, and with his arm around your waist you look up at him. It was a mistake, for the second your eyes meet yours he's kissing you, and there is no way that you can pull away from him now. His lips are oddly soft, his taste somewhere between strawberries and something more sour like lemons. It's pleasant and you move into his kiss further. One of his hands is in your hair, twisting your head to kiss you harder. It is at this point you know nothing will ever be the same again. You’re very aware that you shouldn’t be doing this right now. Or ever. Then you're moving backwards again, your legs are on the edge of the wall again now, but like a fool you’re so deep into the kiss you couldn’t imagine the possibility of him letting go of you, of pushing you. He pulls away from you and it dawns on you then how close you are to the side, how you have nothing to grab if you fall. 

“Yoongi?” You ask, as if you’ve been friends for years and he’s just pulling a silly prank. 

“Do you trust me?” he questions, his voice deep. He’s got a hold of your arms. There's something you've never seen behind his eyes… something oddly protective.

Watching you look at him with such wide eyed shock causes Yoongi to go slightly mad. A year ago he would have pushed you, he would have leant over the side of the little safety wall and watched you fall until all he could see was a red splatter of blood on the stones below the church. He would have picked up your body and placed it in the middle of the square for everyone to see that he had won. Now when he looked at you, he saw someone he would tear the world apart for, piece by piece. A light breeze blows between you, it picks up a strand of your hair, placing it in front of your eyes. Instinctively, he reaches up to tuck it back behind your ear. “Do you trust me?” he asks again, not embarrassed by the desperate tone to his voice.

At first you’re hesitant, do you trust him? It would be weird to say yes. Even weirder to actually admit it after all this time. But- “Yes” you breathe, letting the warmth of your breath touch the very closeness of his lips. 

“Even if I do this?” he whispers, pushing you back further against the knee high wall, you are hanging backwards a little over the wall now, the weight of his hands keeping you in place. Your heart beats in your ears like the sounding of war drums, you should be panicking. You nod your head. You trust him. He lets go of one of your hands, falling back further you can see the ground below you. So far away. You look back at Yoongi, his black hair flops in front of his face, covering half his scar and his eyes, it's a wonder he can even see. His eyes are near black and in them the reflection of a singular torch lighting up the square below glitters. It's like looking into a galaxy only made of one star.

“I trust you” you say again, trying to cover the fear in your voice. Your hand is shaking. Why you didn’t just push him away earlier you don’t know. You could have ended it there. You would have survived. He pulls you back up to his chest, you’re not breathing now, not breathing when he ball-room style swings you around so he's the one with his legs against the wall. You can’t comprehend that it wasn’t all a joke, that he really didn’t let go of you.

He’s looking at you as if you’re the centre to his gravity. “Push me” he says, broadening his chest as if to give you more space to push him with. “Push me off the side of the church”

It’s awful because you want to. You want to push him. You would have pushed him if he hadn't kissed you. In his eyes you can see the torment. The confusion plagues your face. “No,” you say, taking a step back from him.

“You’re the hero, I am the villain” he replies. Yoongi is hoping you won’t push him. He wants you, but only if you want him back. “This is your chance to win.”

“I don’t care” 

He pushes back from the wall, coming towards you like a lion stalking his prey. His eyes have more colour in them now, as if you just uncovered his soul or unearthed his heart. “You don’t care” he taunts, there's mockery in his voice, it reminds you of the evil Yoongi and you’re stepping back again. 

“I don’t care,” you repeat.

He’s in front of you now his hands seem to buzz to touch you. “Would you care if they saw you kissing me”

“No, I wouldn’t care” this was his consent as he leaned down to kiss you, it's different from the last kiss, it's less passionate, more testing of both his and your control.

“You wouldn’t care if they saw my hands on you?” he pauses the kiss to ask. You shake your head. He doesn’t touch you until he says “If they saw me do this?”  and untucks your shirt from your trousers. You continue to shake your head. “Or this?” as he raises one, cold, hand up your stomach, running his pinkie over the previously covered skin. “Or this?” as he grabs one of your boobs in his hand, squeezing it around like its dough. You want to melt, you can’t speak, you’re trying to shake your head but he’s kissing you again, your backs against a wall now, it's cold where his hand has lifted up the back of your top, you don't feel it, your body is on fire. You try to reach for the waistband of his trousers but he stops your hand mid way.  “No, I am leading this”

You want to complain, why should he get the right to touch you and you not him? You pout into the kiss - trying to convey to him that you weren't happy with the lack of power you had. 

He stops kissing you to say “If you said you trusted me” he’s peppering kisses along your neck and throat now. “Then let me do this my way.” Maybe it's the way he’s found your sweet spot, and is sucking it like a starving leach you nod in agreement. You realise that the almost painful kissing is more for him to leave his mark on you. That sends a pulse to your core. It disturbs you to know you want him to mark you, want people to know it was him. A little moan escapes your lips. Yoongi hums and it seems to go straight into your bloodstream. 

“Yoongi” you whisper, hoping to take his attention away from that area of your neck, you wanted him to do something different. You wanted him. “Please”

Yoongi doesn’t think you realise that you’re whining, moaning, pleading at him. It's cute. Yoongi liked the power he had established here, he liked being in control of you. He intended to torture you like this for hours, maybe even until the sun came up. Then he would take you here on the floor of the church, damn the gods, or on the roof where you always perched to watch for him. He would make this night so memorable you’d be bound to him, you’d never leave him or fight against him again. You’d be his.

He nips the skin of your neck one last time, you’re only distantly aware of a high pitched whine you let out. Tugging again at your shirt he grips either side of it at your waist, looking at you as he brings it up, ever so slowly, over the hills of your covered breasts. For a moment all you can see is the inside of your shirt, still warm where it had been touching your skin. Then your shirt is gone, you watch as Yoongi balls it up in his hands, and there's nothing you can do as he flings it over the side of the church. It falls through the air like a pebble through water, slowly twisting, raising a little then dropping further. When you turn to look at him again he has a dagger in his hand, you let out a breath of shock, suddenly very still. He had a dagger all along and didn’t get rid of it. You push yourself further against the wall. “Yoongi?” you ask, maybe you could talk some sense into him. Tears fill your eyes. What a humiliating way to die.

He pulls you towards him, one hand gripping the skin of your waist. You wait for the dagger to pierce your heart or to stab your side, but instead you feel the blade against your back. You stood against him, looking up into his eyes when it touched the band of your bra. The bandage-like strip meets the dagger with some resistance but after forcing the dagger up further you hear the material begin to rip. Trusting Yoongi with your life again you rest your head against his shoulder, giving him a better view of the cut he was making. You revel in the feeling of your breasts becoming less confined, letting out a little satisfied sigh. As the bra falls from you, the distant clatter of a dagger being thrown far away wakes you from your bliss. “I told you to trust me” he says, though you don’t read any upset in his voice.

“It’s difficult,” you reply. Your nipples pull tight in the cold wind, or maybe from the arousal. Yoongi wastes no time in attaching his warm lips to the skin of them. The contrast between the warmth of his mouth on one of your boobs and the cold of his hand against the other causes your knees to almost give out under you. “I want more” you whine, putting a hand in his hair and you’re sure you feel him smile against your nipple. 

“In a minute” he replies, breaking the contact with his mouth and you.

“Wanna suck you off” you try to convince him, but to no avail, he doesn’t change his attack on your body. 

“Not. Tonight” he exaggerates. For a moment you feel nothing but shock. Not only did that mean he didn’t care about his pleasure but also yours it seemed he had the intention of this happening more than once. You’re not sure you’ve ever been with someone like that before. 

In the distance you're vaguely aware of the sun beginning to rise over the crest of the hill. The crimson light it gives off hits the top of the church, casting its shadow across the square below you. Yoongi finishes peppering kisses along your stomach and for a moment you think that's it, you think he's going to leave you here, half naked and alone. He must see the fear in your eyes, he stands up, kissing you on the forehead. He leans against you, almost crushing you against the wall. His breath is on your ear, breathing heavy. “Are you ready for me”

You nod your head.

“Are you wet for me”

You nod your head. You’d been drenched from the moment he first kissed you. Feeling your heart pulsing in your pussy. 

Yoongi is very satisfied with your answers, helps you out of your loose pants, his eyes catching on the wetness left behind on your pants. Now you stood completely bare in front of him, slightly shivering in the cold of the air around you. A little black triangle of hair hid you from him. He was so hard he knew he wouldn’t last long with you. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time, he wants to be inside you. He chucks his jacket on the floor, his shirt following that. He would have kept them on but he didn’t want you to get cold. “Lie down.” he points towards his jacket and shirt. He, for a moment, thinks he sees tears in your eyes, but they are gone before he can think anymore of it. He’s aware of you sitting down on the cold floor as he pulls down his trousers, his cock jumps straight from them and slaps his stomach. Once his trousers are disregarded he turns back to you, who is staring wide eyed at him.

You can’t believe he denied you touching his cock. It looked so perfect, you could see the angry veins protruding from here. You gulp. You want him inside you so badly. You squeeze your legs together. He sees this and walks towards you, his dick so erect it hardly moves as he walks. Instead of telling you off for not lying down as he asked you, he says “is it too cold?” you shake your head.

Kneeling on the floor in front of you so your knees touch he mumbles “good.” Yoongi uses the palms of his hands to spread your legs apart, he can see you now, you’re glistening in the sunlight, your wetness practically dripping from you. He feels his dick twitch. After all those weeks of obsessing over this moment, he's now immensely worried. “lay back for me.” 

You do as you’re told, you’re also amazed at how quickly you handed over power to him. He kneels there for a moment just staring at your pussy. You close your legs with anxiety. “You’re beautiful” he reminds you and a blush runs to your cheeks. Using the palms of his hands he again opens your legs. Slowly climbing up your body, he kisses your stomach and mutters “so beautiful.” If it were anyone else you’d be mortified. But you’re not, you feel safe. He kisses up the valley of your breasts, on your neck where he’d left his mark earlier, then kisses you once on your chin. But you hardly feel that because all you can feel is his cock that has rested itself upon your thigh. You stop breathing, looking him directly in the eyes. 

Then he's moving forward, his dick pushes past your entrance. He sighs in relief but a tear slips from the corner of your eye. He’s so deep and so thick inside you it hurts. Yoongi apologises in your ear, a string of sorrys falling from his lips. “It’s okay” you say, running a hand through his hair, you don’t even know when you put it there. The light pain you felt dwindles away into pleasure. “You can move now” you hint, moving your hips a little, feeling him move about inside you. He's so warm.

He groans an “I can’t.” You tense.

“Why, are you okay?” panic laces your voice. A care for him fills your heart that you feel like you’ve been pressing back for ages. 

“Wanna fuck you” he whines, you feel his dick twitch, your pussy clenches in response. “So hard the outline of your body is dented into the floor of the church”

You clench around him. “But I don’t want to hurt you” You are surprised at his wanting to protect you. 

“I wanna be fucked” you reply, a newfound power in your voice. “I’ll be okay”

You, for a moment, wonder how weird this situation is. You’d had sex with people in the past but you knew those people, they knew your limits and you knew theirs. With Yoongi it was all new. “Please” you say. You wanted to find out everything about him, and it would start with knowing the unfiltered version of him right now.

He grabs your waist, kissing the lobe of your ear one last time before flipping you around. He kneels between your legs. “Raise your ass for me” 

You do as you’re instructed, arching your back on instinct. “What a good girl” he comments and your pussy clenches around the air at the compliment. He chuckles at you. Grabbing your waist again he uses it to anchor you as he, unlike last time, slowly inches into you. You shake with the intensity of the moment - how different he feels at this angle. A little whimper falls past his lips. You know he’s holding back. He’s still pushing into you when you push back against him, he fills you up to the hilt, you can feel his abdomen against your ass. Letting him take back the control he had claimed as his earlier, he begins to push back and forth. You can feel him inside of you, feel your heart, or maybe it was his, beat everytime he was fully inside of you. You don’t know what you did, maybe you pushed back a little or maybe you pulsed without realising it but suddenly Yoongi was going a lot faster. Your hair was falling down in front of your face as your head flops in ecstasy. It doesn’t surprise you that Yoongi pulls your hair from your face and uses it to stop you from moving forward every time he thrusts into you. He's so deep. The pain from your scalp is only secondary to the pleasure you feel, it makes the build up in your stomach heighten.

“Oh my gods” you mumble. Your hands are freezing cold against the stone floor, but you don’t care, the dick’s so good. Yoongi is so good. “Please” you beg him, you don’t know what you are begging him to do but whatever it is you hope he does it soon. There's a build up of such strong pleasure in your lower abdomen you think you might explode. Even Yoongi can feel this.

“Wait for me” he commands, and you try. You think of summer fields and children running about in the grass jumping like deer, you think of birds that fly really high only to drop, a swirling tornado. Then you pull yourself back to Yoongi. Back to his dick pounding into you so hard and deep, back to one of his hands in your hair, the other gripping your waist like a vice. Back to the cold, cold floor. Back to Yoongi, grunting, whining and moaning above you. You’ve no doubt you sound exactly the same. 

“Yoongi” you warn. You are so close, your toes are over the edge. He lets go of your waist, you think he is going to let go of you entirely just as you get so close, but he uses it to smack each of your arsecheeks. You whine in a shocking pleasure. The sound echoes around the tower, the sound of his balls hitting your clit probably echoes out around the village. You don’t care. Then both of his hands are on  your waist again and much to your disappointment, he slips his dick from you. You whine. 

“I want to look at you” there's a shuffling and then he's flipping you over again, you’re facing him now, your back on the floor. This man is really indecisive. “Hi” he says.

“Hi” you reply, but it's cut off with a moan as he enters you again. You don’t know why he had to fuck you from behind a minute ago - his fucking from missionary was pretty damn adequate. “Shit, shit, shit” you chant. “Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi” you say in time to his thrusts. 

“You’re so good for me” he says, diving for one of your nipples and playing with it between his teeth. There's so much pleasure you think you might explode, and there's not really much warning, and you can’t tell him because you can’t speak. But your cumming, hot and white lights seem to centre your vision, you can only see Yoongi amidst the roaring that is the tingling along every muscle in your body. You’re twitching and Yoongi’s fucking you through it to the point where its too much. “I told you to wait” he snarls, slapping each of your cheeks lightly, it's not to hurt you but rather to encourage you to move from that orgasm to the next one. 

“Too much” you pout, hoping he’ll slow down at least a little, but he doesn’t if anything he only speeds up. 

“We are doing it together this time” he explains, his voice wavers a little and you wonder how long exactly you have to catch up with him. You’re really sensitive but the overstimulation pain seems to dwindle away and the roaring that had quietened down begins to rebuild itself. His hips become less fluid, he's close, you’re close again. 

“I’m cumming” he mumbles, his face consorted, eyes squeezed shut. Despite this, he still manages to reach down and roll your clit between two fingers. He’s cumming and he pushes inside of you so far he’s touching a place in you that you didn’t know you had, you didn’t think you were going to cum, but with the head of his cock placed against that soft spot inside of you and his cum mixing with your wetness; you are. You’re both holding onto each other, your head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream. He collapses, his arms failing to hold up his weight. He falls on top of you, his cock falling soft inside your spasming pussy. “Gods” he sighs, rolling the two of you over so your back isn’t against the cold floor and you’re lying on top of him. Your breathing is still ragged and so is his. His cold fingers trace patterns on your back, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind him. You want to sleep, you're so tired. “Don’t sleep, love” he reminds you “you’ve got to get home, they’ll worry about you”

A tear falls down the side of your cheek, rolling onto his chest. “What about you?” you ask him. “Where will you go?”

“Back to my home” he replies, following the trace of your tear with his finger. Almost subconsciously you run your finger down the still red scar over his eye.

“You’re lucky you’ve still got an eye” you comment.

“I am, how would I see you without it” he grabs your wrist gently. “We need to go Y/N” 

“I don’t have any clothes.” you rest your head back on his chest, watching as his thumb runs circles on your interlinked hand. You wish it was a good enough excuse to stay. Though he only chuckles, helping you back up, only pausing to place an affectionate kiss on your nose. Still naked he helps you into your clothes. Your eyes widen in shock as he, whilst helping you into your trousers, your legs still shaky, uses his thumb to scoop up some of his cum running from your centre, and brings it to your mouth. The two of you taste incredibly good. You let out a little “mmh” as if you were trying a food. He laughs, pulling up your pants the rest of the way. 

He steps into his clothes, only putting his shirt on whilst you stand there, naked from the top half, not even trying to cover your shivering anymore. He wraps his green dyed jacket around you, zipping it up at the front. 

Yoongi’s jacket is his signature, it's his calling card. Your eyes are wide as he zips you into it, pulling out your long hair from the back of the jacket. It makes you remember that he’s the villain.

If anyone sees you in this, they’ll know what happened. 

“Yoongi, they’ll lock me up” you complain, grateful for the warmth of the jacket but not the symbol it stands for. 

“They’ll also lock you up if you walk through the streets half naked”

He has a fair point. 

“Just be quick, go through the back streets and if you see anyone, hide from them.” 

He was telling you things you already knew but you nodded anyway. “Okay”

“I’ll make a headstart on you” he swings around on his feet, making a beeline for the stairs, where he would disappear to you would not know.

“Can I come with you?” you ask. You know he’ll say no.

“Not at the moment but I’ll come back to you” there's hope and a promise in his eyes.

“How will I know that?” you ask him. You feel like crying again. 

“You have my jacket.” he walks towards the arch of the stairs, half his body hiding behind the pillar. You smile, nodding your head, though not fully convinced. He continues down the stairs but he stops, you can only see his head now. “You also have my heart.”

Yoongi sprints down the stairs, his ultimate mission complete, you were his he had marked every inch of your body, he had left his seed in side you. He was the winner. 

Then he’s gone, you’re alone in the tower, holding onto the too-long sleeves of his jacket shocked at his goodbye. Now, despite your tiredness, you had to make it home in the broad day-light without anyone seeing you. Sighing, you take off down the stone steps, the mark of your enemy on more than one part of your body, heart and soul.

as always, thank you for the support. 

[giginings]

okay hear me out: prompt 4, kink 2, karina. i suck at writing my thoughts out but basically: you’re the choreographer as they prep for the concert and karina catches you staring at her one too many times.

“ didn’t know you wanted me this badly “ + semi-public sex + karina - aespa

masterlist + 500 likes milestone

warnings : semi-public sex, kind of dub-con, oral (f. receiving), a bit of degration, fingering

it was wrong. that was what you kept telling yourself as you watched the girl warm-up for your ongoing practice session. but it can't be that bad if no one knows you catch glances at her ass every once in a while, right? right?...

caught up in your daydreams, you completely miss her saying your name for the third time. it wasn’t until the girl raised her voice until you snapped out of your reverie. “hey, are…are you okay? you’ve been zoning out a lot lately.”

well, what were you supposed to say to that? ‘oh yeah my bad, i was fantasizing about you crushing my head with your thighs.’ instead, you just shrugged it off with a short “nah i’m cool, i just got distracted.” if only karina knew she was the one clouding your head.

days later, you and the girls had a group practice. of course they all did amazing, but karina was the one you couldn’t help but pay the most attention to. it was mesmerizing, the way she moved. with every sway of her hips it felt as if she was pulling you in. it was undeniable that you had it bad for her.

sooner or later (you honestly lost track of time), it was time for them to go, but you felt your blood go cold once karina said she would stay behind, claiming she needed more clarification on the first step. however that appeared to be anything but true when she diligently locked the door behind the other three, her eyes sending daggers through you, settling right in your stomach.

“i’ve seen you.” the girl starts off, as you stood there, no idea what to say. “i’ve seen you stare at me when i dance. i’ve seen you stare at me when i walk by. you think i don’t, but i do. you’re not very discreet about it either. as if you have no shame.” it felt as though she was getting closer and closer, and once she was face to face with you, you realized that she had been getting closer.

“i don’t— i haven’t been—“ “so now you lie? you check me out like a pervert and then you lie to me about it?” you could feel your heart beating in your chest, breathing even faster than you were before. she suddenly dropped to her knees in front of you, tugging at your leggings. “should have put you in your place a long time ago,” you could hear her growl below you.

“‘rina-“ “be quiet.” “but what if they see-“ “then who’s fault would that be?” you realized you had nothing in response to that. once your leggings had been gone and out of her way, she used her hand to push your legs apart. “so fucking wet, you’re leaking through your underwear baby. bet you’re getting off to the thought of them catching us.”

karina ran her finger up your clothed, soaked slit as she spoke. her finger started to rub your swollen clit through your underwear. “‘rina please…” your plead came out as a whimper, your eyes watching her as she teased you. “please, what? want me to ruin this slutty pussy baby?” her words went from your ears directly down to your cunt, a pathetic moan emitting from you.

“yes, yes— fuck, ruin my pussy please?” that was all she needed to hear, wasting no time to tug down the piece of fabric that was blocking her from your cunt. slick stuck from your pussy onto your underwear, causing a snicker to leave the girl’s mouth. “didn’t know you wanted me this bad, baby…” karina’s tongue suddenly attacked your clit, her thumb teasing your hole.

the pleasure drew out a cry from your mouth, the sudden action catching you off guard. her thumb pushes itself into you, exploring your gummy walls. you gasp, her mouth sucking on your clit. the newly found feeling of pleasure caused you to squirm above her, karina’s open hand gripping your thigh to keep you still.

she was messy and urgent with her movements, as if she had been craving this. she switched out her thumb for her index and middle finger, beginning to finger fuck you. the squelching sound of your cunt was loud enough as is, your cries and moans adding onto the noise. at this point, you were bound to get caught. she nipped your clit with her teeth, a yelp exiting from you.

“so fucking wet, could eat this pussy all day.” the girl mutters from under you, eating you out as if it’s the first meal she’s had in years. you could feel your orgasm building up, and your heightening moans signaled that. “karina- ‘rina i’m gonna cum, fuck—!” your climax was intense. karina let you ride out your orgasm, her movements starting to slow down.

when the girl pulled away, you could see your arousal covering her chin and mouth. the grin on her face said a lot. she adored how cute you looked fucked out, strands of your hair stuck to your forehead and your mouth slightly agape. karina got back up onto her feet, the back of her hand wiping her mouth. she took the time to lick her fingers clean of your arousal.

“see you tomorrow at practice, ___.”

[demxters]

—LOVING YOU IS EASY

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: it's delta chi casino night and your doubts and insecurities find a way to ruin your perfect mood. good thing jake seresin is there to pull you from the depths of your mind.

wc: 2.9k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), descriptions of anxiety and a panic attack, self deprecating thoughts, a lil angsty but mostly fluff and feelings!!

part of the loving you universe || also find it on ao3 here

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

You can’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him. It could’ve been that day when he chased after you in the pouring rain to give you a piece of his heart. It could’ve been when he stole the last bottle of Mountain Dew from Bradley because he knew how much you liked them. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with him, but you knew that the ever growing feeling you had for the man was love. 

When he broke through the walls you built around your heart, it didn’t take much for you to fall utterly and completely in love with him. Any defenses against him were useless because he somehow managed to wiggle his way through the barbed wire anyway. 

No matter how much you tried to deny it, you were weak for Jake Seresin. 

Your eyes flit around the room, taking in the slightly tipsy college students that sat around makeshift poker tables. It was Casino Night and Delta Chi was hosting the event. Everyone in attendance was dressed to the nines. Boys in their nicest button ups and slacks, girls in their best evening dresses, and the rest in the most dapper outfits they had. Most of the people in the room were from other fraternities and sororities making the only people you really knew to be your boyfriend, his friends, and yours. 

God, you got butterflies just from thinking of the word. Boyfriend. Jake Seresin was your boyfriend. You weren’t getting used to that any time soon. 

You hung off to the side, opting to be just a spectator for the night. Your friends clamored and booed just to poke fun, but they knew these things weren’t really your scene. You catch Jake’s eye from the other side of the room. The way his gaze softens when it meets yours sends a rush of overwhelming emotion through you. Your stomach erupts in a flurry of butterflies and your heart beat picks up its pace in your ribcage. Every time he looked at you felt like the first time he said I love you. 

He gives you a lopsided smile that accentuates the dimple on his left cheek. You wiggle your fingers at him in a small wave to which he cockily winks back in response. You playfully roll your eyes before his attention is stolen from you by one of his fraternity brothers. 

Leaning against the wall, you sigh, once again admiring your boyfriend from afar. 

“He’s so hot.”

The sudden company of a girl you recognized from Sigma Nu startles you. You turn to see who she’s looking at and of course, she’s eyeing none other than Jake Seresin. 

You hum in response, taking another sip from your cup. 

“I mean, seriously. A guy like that… I’m surprised no one’s staked their claim on him yet. Then again, Jake Seresin could have anyone he wants.” She pauses then looks at you with eager eyes. “Do you think I should go talk to him?” 

The elated state you found yourself in a moment earlier came crashing down, bringing you back to reality. She was right, Jake Seresin could have anyone he wants. 

How you were able to catch the attention of a guy like him was beyond you. The two of you came from two different ends of the spectrum. You were a bookish, studious, chronically sarcastic know it all while he was fun, charismatic, and quite literally the life of every party. 

This girl who was absolutely stunning and looked like a supermodel was asking you if she should talk to your boyfriend. You should’ve said no. You should’ve stood your ground, “staked your claim” as she had said and told her that Jake was taken. That he was yours. Instead a weak, “I don’t know,” tumbled from your lips and so did your resolve. 

The Sigma Nu girl fluffed up her hair and pulled up her top to accentuate her breasts before standing taller and giving you a sultry grin. “Wish me luck.” 

Your blood turns to ice, leaving your feet frozen to the floor. There’s a small voice in the back of your mind screaming at you to follow after her. To pull her back by her perfect hair and tell her to back off. Maybe that was a bit extreme, but you couldn’t help the unfamiliar feeling of jealousy that rushed over you. You and Jake have only been officially together for a few months, but hasn’t she seen the glances the two of you exchanged all night? Hasn’t she seen Jake lovingly wrapped around you at Delta Chi’s parties? Couldn’t she tell that Jake only had eyes for you? 

You trusted him. You trusted him with all your heart. You knew Jake would never entertain the thought of another girl and yet watching the Sigma Nu saunter up to your boyfriend with a lustful gleam in her eye and ill intentions, you were struck with the thought that even if he did entertain the idea of being with other girls you wouldn’t blame him. 

Seeing how easily she wormed her way perfectly between Jake and Javy and the rest of the group as she ever so charmingly striked up a conversation between their fraternity brothers made your stomach feel queasy. Jake didn’t spare her a second glance, even as she reached out to caress his arm. He moved away from her grasp and stepped to the side to create some space between them. The action should have filled you with relief. Instead, you felt like you were going to be sick. 

She looked so perfect interacting with everyone. Not a single thing about her was awkward or out of place. She fit right in with the group and looked so right next to Jake. She was the type of person you’d imagine Jake dating. Someone who could keep up with his charm and wit. Someone who was just as social and outgoing as he is. Someone who was everything you weren’t. So no, you wouldn’t blame Jake for ever entertaining the idea of being with someone else. Had you been in his shoes, you’d probably want someone else too. 

Someone who wasn’t so bland. Someone who didn’t get overwhelmed by crowds and easily sick from the taste of alcohol. Someone who could stay up and party all night. Someone who wouldn’t hold them back. 

It was foolish of you to think you could make Jake happy. Sooner or later he was going to wake up and realize he could find someone good, someone better. 

The room suddenly felt like a sauna, the air hot and heavy making it hard to breathe. Your vision blurred with tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. Everything around you sounded like it was underwater. It felt like you were too. Your limbs were too heavy to move. You felt like your lungs were going to burst from not inhaling any air. You hadn’t even noticed that Natasha and Bob were standing in front of you and leading you towards the double doors until the chill of the night air put out the fire on your cheeks. 

You gasp the moment you step foot outside, breaching the surface feeling like you could breathe again. 

“Breathe Ace.” 

You follow the voice like a siren call. Tapping your fingers against your thigh, you count every breath, remembering to take note of your surroundings and bring yourself back to the present. 

A moment passes before your breath goes back to normal and your vision is no longer clouded. You can see Nat in front of you with her hands on your shoulders and her forehead is crinkled in that way it gets when she’s worried. 

You wrap your arms around yourself as if finally realizing you were standing outside in the middle of the night without your jacket.  

Natasha gives you a second to recollect yourself and your thoughts, leading you by the hand to sit on the concrete steps of the meeting hall. The concrete feels like ice against your skin, sending another jolt of chills through your body. 

You begin counting again when you feel yourself drifting off. You get to forty five before Nat breaks the silence. 

“It’s been awhile since your last one of those, huh?” 

You swallow harshly. 

Bob comes back out with a bottle of water in his hand that he gently offers to you. You give him a weak smile and take it from him, haphazardly unscrewing the cap. It falls to the ground but you don’t have it in you to care as you take a large gulp of water. Bob takes a seat beside you with Nat on your other side. 

Even after drinking three fourths of the bottle, somehow your throat still feels dry. Your mind goes back to the reason why you were out here in the first place and you almost hurl onto the sidewalk. Images of Jake and that chick from Sigma Nu fill your brain and you can’t help but feel sick all over again. 

Bob gets up at the sight of your flushed skin. “I should go get Jake,” he stutters. 

“No!” You shoot up to your feet immediately, startling Nat and Bob. Clearing your throat, you state again,“No, don’t get Jake. Please.” 

Natasha and Bob eye each other warily before ultimately deciding to respect your wish. 

Nat nods, rubbing soothing circles onto the skin of your arm. “Okay, we won’t get him.” 

A loud thud from behind makes your heart jump. 

You turn to see Jake clamoring through the doors in a state of dishevelment. When his eyes land on your form, he lets out a sigh of relief. His shoulders fall and he hurries down the steps to get to you. 

You know what he’s gonna ask before the words even leave his lips. Facing your back to him, you wrap your arms around yourself and say, “I’m fine, Jake. You don’t have to worry.” 

“I’m always worrying about you, sweetheart,” he admits, settling on the steps beside you where Bob had once been. 

Natasha nods her head towards the double doors, beckoning Bob to follow and give you two a moment of privacy. She knew from the moment she saw you clam up in the meeting hall that it had to do with Jake and Miss Sigma Nu. The way your stare locked onto the two and didn’t break until her and Bob practically dragged you away was enough of a clue. She just hoped Jake hadn’t done anything stupid, otherwise he’d have to deal with her. 

Silence between you and Jake was never uncommon, however it was also never this unsettling. Jake knew the second you disappeared from his view that something was wrong. You never left without telling Jake or anyone else first. After asking everyone if they’d seen where you went, he was thankful that Reuben caught Bob and Natasha ushering you outside. 

Without a second thought, Jake was on autopilot, dropping everything to get to you. Not even the Sigma Nu who whined about where he was going mattered to him. All he could think about is you. 

Jake was wracking his brain for any reason for you to rush out like that. Has he indirectly done something to upset you? Did he forget something important? Were you sick and needed to go home?

You sniffle and wipe at your nose with the back of your hand before facing your back towards him once more. He knew it was something much worse. He hated seeing you cry. After making you cry as many times as he did before you got together, he swore to always be there to wipe them away and kiss you better. But he couldn’t even do that now as you purposely hide yourself away from him. 

“That’s the thing. You shouldn’t have to worry about me all the time. You shouldn’t have to constantly keep an eye on me or be conscious of the time because I hate staying up late. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your time out because I get too anxious in crowded rooms. You shouldn’t have…” Another sob climbs its way up your throat. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me.” 

Jake’s heart breaks at your confession and he’s desperate to understand where these thoughts are coming from. Just a moment earlier, you were smiling and laughing at his antics which is why your change in demeanor took him off guard. Despite wanting to beg you to tell him what was going on in that head of yours, he knew that you needed some time. He took your trembling hand in his, intertwining your fingers and softly stroking the skin of the back of your hand in the way he knew you loved. 

He bites his tongue and patiently waits for you to open back up to him. Tremors from the soft breeze continue to make your body shake so he pulls off his suit jacket and drapes it around your shoulders. 

You unconsciously snuggle into its warmth, breathing in the familiarity of Jake’s cologne before falling onto his shoulder and burying yourself into the crook of his neck. 

“You deserve to be with someone who isn’t dragging you down all the time,” you voice into the skin of his neck. 

Your words are muffled but he hears you all the same. “What? What’re you talking about?” 

You shake your head, sniffing once more. “It’s just… that Sigma Nu girl that approached you earlier? She was talking to me before that. Saying something about how you could have anyone you want and all that stuff. Then she went up to talk to you–” 

“And you didn’t stop her?” Jake asks with amusement and curiosity. 

“No, well, I tried but I couldn’t get the words out. You know?” 

Jake nods in agreement knowing exactly what you meant. “Then what happened?” He coaxes gently. 

“Then I saw her with you and Javy and everyone else. I think I understood what she meant then about you having anyone you want. She just looked so perfect with you all, like she belonged there and you looked so good together that I couldn’t help but think that maybe you deserved someone like that. Someone who isn’t a burden. Someone who fits into your world better.” 

He frowns, and holds you closer with his free arm. “You know I love you more than anything, right?” You remain silent so he repeats himself again. “Right?” 

You hum. 

“Then you should also know that you’re my world. You.” He pulls away for a moment to get a good look at your tear stained cheeks and wide eyes staring up at him. “I don’t care if she looked perfect or if she fit right in. I don’t care about any of that stuff. As for having anyone I want, I’ve already got the one I want right here. It’s you Ace. From the moment we met, it's always been you.” 

“But–” 

“You’re not dragging me down. Don’t you ever think that because you’re the one who’s keeping me afloat. I mean, seriously, I probably would’ve flunked out by now.” A dry laugh escapes him. 

You nudge him in the ribs. “Hey, what did we say about self talk?” 

He smiles down at you. “You see what I mean? You won’t even let me talk bad about myself so what makes you think I’ll let you get away with it?” 

“I’m sorry,” you squeak. You’re feeling better already, but you still aren’t completely convinced. 

“Don’t be sorry, just believe me will you?” Releasing his hold on your hand he tilts your chin upward so he can get a better look at you. “Loving you is not a burden. Loving you is…” He pauses for a moment, trying to find the perfect words to articulate how he feels about you. “Loving you is easy. I never thought I’d be one to fall in love but you made it so easy that I didn’t even realize I did until I almost ruined any chance I had with you.” 

“Jake…” Your eyes are welling with tears again. Not from sadness, but rather from the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness and love for the man in front of you. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he gingerly cups your face in his hands, wiping at the tears on the apples of your cheeks. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. I love you, Ace.” 

Pressing forward, your lips land on his and he could taste the salt from your tears as they continue to fall but he doesn’t care. You try to pull away, but he chases your lips and brings you back to him. 

You giggle at his eagerness but push him back softly by the chest. You had to say what you’ve been dying to say all night. You were afraid you were going to burst any second now if you didn’t. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do too, Jake. I love you.” 

The smile that graces his features is brighter than all the stars in the night sky as he rests his forehead against yours. 

“Easier than your statistics class?” He jokes. 

You press another kiss to his lips with a smile. “Even easier than that.” 

Learning to accept that you alone were enough and worthy of Jake’s love would take some time, but you knew with Jake by your side, he would make it all a little easier. 

a/n: a special ty to @natrace beta reading <3 ty for ur love and support

a/n2: if u made it this far, ty for reading!! i'm trying to get back into the groove of writing starting with my favorite pair of jake and ace. as always the inbox is always open and i hope you enjoyed this short but sweet installment of the loving you... universe

add yourself to my taglist!

tgm taglist: @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl @t-nd-rfoot @dempy @ollyoxenfrees @potato-girl99981 @averyhotchner @2guysonascooter @loveforaugust @blue-aconite @fandom-life-12 @stiles-banshees @iamdannyday @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @bradshawseresinbabe @breezemood @emorychase @eli2447 @angelbabyange @finelytaylored @pono-pura-vida @hecate-steps-on-me @blueoorchid

[roanofarcc]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT → I NEVER GREW UP, IT’S GETTING SO OLD

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown.

word count. 3.9k || masterlist || ocs moodboard

warnings: cannon typical violence, child abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. cannon divergence.

a/n. and fifty eight chapters later...

previous chapter ← → next chapter

Rays of setting sunlight poured through the open window of Sunshine’s bedroom, bathing everything inside in a soft, golden glow. A light breeze fluttered the curtains, letting in the smell of freshly cut grass. Sunshine absentmindedly toyed with her necklace as she watched the tree leaves sway gently, sitting in her bed with her legs stretched out over her comforter. In her lap rested Max’s head. She was quiet, too quiet, as Sunshine brushed her fingers through the redhead’s waving locks in an attempt to ease some of the hurt that was wound up so tightly inside of Max. She looked so small curled up on Sunshine’s bed, wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts that Sunshine had stolen a while ago; it fell just above Max’s knees and the sleeves covered her hands. 

On the edge of the bed sat El and Leia with their fingers working quickly to tie knots in strings to form friendship bracelets for everyone as their going-away gifts. The craft also worked as a nice distraction from the sadness that lingered heavily over all of Hawkins in the wake of Chief Hopper’s death that night at Starcourt. 

Sunshine hadn’t believed it at first; she refused to believe the news her parents broke to her a couple of days following the Fourth of July. It seemed impossible; none of them were supposed to die, not like that and not then. He had three children, a family, and a good life that wasn’t supposed to end so soon. But he was gone, just like that, and his death affected the town deeply, but not as much as it did the group who had been there that night. His children took the news like a dagger to the heart, and they were once again robbed of a promise of new life with Hopper in their little cabin in the woods. The building was in ruins, and he was gone, leaving Joyce to take in the three kids. She insisted that Hopper would have done the same for her boys if their roles were reversed. She brought El and the twins into her home and treated them as if they were her own, despite also reeling from Hopper’s death. The kids lost a father, and Joyce lost another man she loved. Hawkins was thrown completely off its axis.

“Hey, Max?” Leia's voice broke through the stillness of the bedroom. “Can you tell us what California’s like?” 

When the summer came to a close, the Byers-Hopper clan would move across the country and get a fresh start in California, away from all of their ghosts in Hawkins. Sunshine knew it was for the best, but the thought of her siblings being so far away hurt her heart. She kept a brave face for them, though, not wanting them to worry any more than they already did. 

Max shifted slightly and turned her head to look at El and Leia. “You guys will like it, especially if you’re close to the beach,” she said, her voice seemingly stuck somewhere between dreamy and pained. “It’s sunny, almost all of the time, and warm. You guys can learn to surf or skateboard. The people are pretty cool too. It’s…it’s just a lot different than Hawkins.” 

A small frown tugged on El’s lips as she braided her bracelet. “Why can you two just come with us?” 

Sunshine smiled sadly at her sister. “I wish we could, but you know we can’t.” She wasn’t done with Hawkins yet. Her parents were still there, and a single year of high school was waiting for her. Besides, she couldn’t leave Max or the remaining party member until she knew for sure that Hawkins was a safe place for them. There was also Steve and Nancy who would still be there; Sunshine couldn’t leave them either. “But,” she continued. “We’ll come to visit, and you guys will come back to see us. We’ll only be a call or radio away; it won’t even feel like we’re that far apart.”

Seated on the floor, surrounded by a series of journals, Luke and Will paused their reading of the various stories Sunshine had written. She had started writing as a way to cope with everything she had experienced and been through, but it had turned from recanting old horrors to creating alternative endings to the lives of the children from the Lab. She wrote them the happy endings they deserved; it proved to be more therapeutic than digging up bad memories, and according to Luke and Will, they were rather good. 

“The party’s splitting up,” Will said, followed with a heavy sigh. “We’ve never been without each other like that before.” 

“Just because you’re apart doesn’t mean you’ll stop being friends,” Sunshine said. The bond that the party had couldn’t be broken by some distance, not after everything. 

“I know,” said Will, his voice quiet. “I just, I don’t know. It’s scary.” 

“Yeah,” agreed Leia. “Moving is scary. Growing up is scary.” The kids all seemed to agree. 

“But think of it as a good kind of scary,” Sunshine offered. “You guys will get to see new things and meet new people. You’re not replacing us here, you’re just moving on, right? And then you’ll call us and tell us about all of it.” She didn’t want them to think that she or anyone who was staying in Hawkins felt like they were getting left behind. She wished that everything was happening under different circumstances, but they’d get through it and a fresh start would be good for them. 

“Are you guys going to be okay here?” asked Luke, looking between Sunshine and Max. The latter didn’t answer, she instead looked up at Sunshine. 

“Yes,” Sunshine said. “We’ll be okay.” 

A beat of silence passed between them. Luke played with the corner of a page from the journal for a moment before he said, “Can I ask you something, Sunshine?” 

“Anything, you know that.” 

He swallowed, dropping his gaze. “When you lost Ivy, how did you make it not hurt so bad?”

Sunshine sucked in a sharp breath. Loss was something that had long been twisted up inside of her, a familiar ache and space craved out of her heart left by Ivy. 

“I don’t think you ever make all of the hurt go away, not completely. That’s not really how it works.” And it shouldn’t work that way, she had come to realize. The loss of someone who showed you so much love and care was something you carried around close to your chest after they had left. “But you try to remember the good memories you had with them. Even though the Lab was scary, wherever I was with Ivy, it made it feel a lot less scary; that’s what I remember the most about her. That’s what I choose to keep with me.” That’s the version of Ivy Sunshine wanted to remember, the girl who wiped her tears away. 

“It was less scary with Hopper,” El whispered, looking down at the blue bracelet on her wrist that he had given her. 

“He loved you guys, you know that, right?” 

Leia nodded, but her face began to contort in anger. Her emotions sparked, causing Sunshine’s bedside lamp to flicker a couple of times. “We should have gotten more time with him. It’s not fair.” 

It wasn’t, and Sunshine wished she had all of the answers and the power to take away all of their pain and sadness that burned inside the kids, that burned through Hawkins. The town still smelled like sulfur and tragedy. 

“No, it’s not fair,” Sunshine sighed. “But if anyone can get through this and be okay, it’s all of you. And now you all have each other.” 

Will perked up slightly. “It’s like we’re all siblings now.” 

El held the faint glow of a smile on her lips. “Siblings.” 

Standing up abruptly from the bed, Max let out something between a cry and a groan of frustration. Sunshine reached for the girl, calling out her name softly, but Max staggered backward with a frantic shake of her head. 

“Hey,” Sunshine said. “It’s alright-”

“Not it’s not.” Max cut her off, choking on a sob. “It’s not! It’s not the same. Hopper was a good person. Billy wasn’t. I shouldn’t…I don’t…Ugh!” She ran her hands down the length of her face as tears pooled in her eyes. 

In the couple of month Sunshine had known Max, she learned Max was the kind of person to keep all of their feels close to their chest until she couldn’t handle it anymore. Max thought she could handle everything alone, but Sunshine wanted to know she didn’t have to do that. 

Sunshine scooted to the edge of her bed, in front of where Max stood. “It’s okay it be upset.” 

Grief was complicated. Billy had been a terrible person, even before the Mind Flayer infiltrated his brain. He had hurt Max, scared her too. But the death he suffered in front of all of their eyes was hard to grapple with. Sunshine didn’t know what had happened to him until days later, when she was in a slightly better condition. Billy had died at the hands of the monster, trying to come back to his uncontrolled self. The second she passed out, the Mind Flayer jutted towards El but Billy had been standing in its way and tried to hold it off for just a second before the Gate was closed and it was all over. Max had watched her stepbrother die, brutally, and no matter what kind of person he had been, it still had to hurt.

“That’s the problem,” Max cried. “I don’t think I’m as upset as I should be. I don’t know. It’s like I feel…I feel kind of relieved but not in a good way, exactly. I just…I don’t know what or how to feel.” She wiped the tears on her cheeks away with the sleeves of the hoodie before she hugged her arms close to her chest, curling into herself. “He tried to kill all of us.” 

“When he was possessed,” Will reminded her, knowing the best out of everyone what Billy had gone through. 

Max shook her head. “He was shitty before that when he wasn’t. But now he’s dead and…and I…” 

“Max,” Sunshine said. A couple more tears slid down the girl’s cheeks before she broke down and fell back onto the bed, wrapping her arms around Sunshine and burying her head in the older girl’s chest. Sunshine held her tightly as El and Leia joined them. All four girls laid in a pile of sniffles and warm embraces. 

None of the kids deserved to spend the last few weeks of summer in mourning. They deserved to be outside, enjoying the warmth and freedom of summer before fall stepped in and they started in the uncharted waters of high school. Instead, they all were teary-eyed and more lost than they had ever been before. Sunshine could fight monsters and bad men all she wanted, but she couldn’t stop the pain that all of the kids felt; she couldn’t go back in time and stop it from ever happening in the first place. All she could do was be there to remind them that they weren’t alone in the world. 

They stayed huddled together until Max’s tears dried up and Sunshine’s arms went numb. Between the soft music that played from Sunshine’s radio and the gentle breeze that washed over them, the girls nearly dozed off until a soft knock came from the door, and in came Sunshine’s mom. The woman wore a small smile as she took in the scene before she said, “Walter just got home with the pizza if you guys are hungry.”

Luke and Will were quick to abandon the journals they were reading and stood to their feet at the mention of food. “Thanks again, Mrs. Torres, for letting us hang out here,” Will said. 

“It’s no trouble at all, sweetie. Anything to help out your mother.” Mary-Jane’s smile faltered at the mention of Ms. Byers. “You tell her that you’re always welcome here, and if she needs anything at all, to just give me a call, okay?” 

Will nodded and the boys slipped out of the bedroom to eat and probably have a long-winded conversation with Walter about anything and everything. He loved his daughter dearly, but he was outnumbered by women in his home, so when Will and Luke started to come around more to give Joyce some space to get everything in order for their move, Walter was overjoyed getting to converse with a couple of boys. 

“Someone stopped by to say hi,” Mary-Jane said, causing Sunshine to furrow her brows. From beside her mom, a familiar face popped into view with an arm full of flowers and a cheeky grin. 

“Steve?” Sunshine said in surprise. She sat up straighter in her bed and tried to brush down the frizzy pieces of white hair that stuck out in different directions. 

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping into her bedroom. “These are for you guys.” He passed out three different bouquets of flowers to all of the girls. The younger girls all took them with surprised faces and slightly rosy cheeks.

“You got these for us?” Max asked. Her voice was still watery and eyes rimmed red, and by the way Steve looked at her, he picked up on it. 

He smiled softly and said, “Of course, red. I thought they might cheer you guys up a little bit.” 

“Thank you,” Leia said as she stuck her nose into the bouquet.

“Pretty.” El smiled brightly. 

“Come on, girls, before the boys eat all of the pizza.” Mary-Jane ushered the younger girls out before she turned to Steve. “You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner, honey.” 

“Thank you. I just, um…” Steve trailed off, glancing over at Sunshine. 

Mary-Jane’s lips quirked upwards in a smile as she said, “I’ll leave you two,” and left Sunshine’s bedroom, leaving Steve and Sunshine alone for the first time since that night at Starcourt. They had seen each other since, but not without the company of one of the kids or at one of the many funerals for the people they lost that night. Sunshine had been put on house arrest. Her parents didn’t know the extent to which she was banged up, aside from the ugly bruises that decorated her face and neck. She tried to not let it show that there was a constant ringing in her ears and her mind felt even more battered than her face. There was a relentless pressure that continued to drum against her temples, and it sometimes caused her vision to swarm. She knew it would take longer than ever before to heal after her fight with the Mind Flayer, but she didn’t know how much longer she’d have to deal with the troubling after-effects. 

“These are for you.” Steve held out a bunch of roses tied together with a little white bow. They were beautiful and unexpected. She felt that familiar flutter inside her stomach that only ever happened around Steve, and a warmth that spread across her cheeks. “I was going to get you sunflowers, but that felt a little too on the nose.” 

She laughed and rested the flower on the nightstand, making a mental note to use one of the pretty crystal vases her mom kept stored in one of the kitchen cabinets. When the sunlight hit the vase, it reflected a rainbow. 

“Thank you.” She pulled her legs up to sit crisscross before she padded the space beside her. Steve took a seat, running a nervous hand through his hair. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, totally,” he replied, not so convincingly. Clearing his throat, he turned to look at Sunshine. “How are you feeling? I was talking to your dad, and he said you seemed a little better since the kids were hanging around.” 

She sighed softly and shrugged. She didn’t feel great, but she also didn’t necessarily feel sickly. Sunshine felt weird, that was the only word that seemed to describe it correctly. Weird. It was like something inside her mind was thrown off or knocked loose during her fight with the Mind Flayer. Ever since that night, she felt flighty, as if she was watching herself from outside her body; there was a disconnect somewhere inside of her that she couldn't quite explain. 

“I’m okay. Better than I was.” Glancing off to the side, she caught sight of herself in her mirror over her vanity. There were muddled green and blue bruises covering her nose and cheeks. The dark blotches contrasted harshly with her newly white hair that had no proper explanation. Dr. Owens had some of his medical professionals check out Sunshine, El, Leia, and Luke a couple of days later and found no direct diagnosis for how El’s abilities stopped working, Luke’s visions of the past, or Sunshine’s white hair. They were awfully unhelpful, deeming it as stress, which only really made sense of Sunshine, not her siblings. Something else was up with El and Luke, but they had enough on their plate, and subjecting them to more tests would only stress them out even more. So, Sunshine tried to get used to her new look, along with the fading bruises across her face and neck from where Billy had choked her. 

“I guess I don’t really look like it, huh?” 

“What’re you talking about? You almost look as good as me,” Steve said, gesturing his to own collections of bruises around his eye. 

Sunshine laughed lightly, unwinding some of the heaviness that weighed on her chest. A short beat of comfortable silence passed between them before Steve cleared his throat. “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?” 

He looked nervous, toying with the fabric of her comforter under his hands and flickering his gaze between her and anywhere else in the room. “Well, you know how we had to cancel our date because of…well, everything?” Sunshine nodded. “I meant it when I said that I would make it up to you if we ever got out of that elevator.” 

Sunshine raised her brows in question. “Are you asking me out?” 

“Second time's a charm, I hope.” He chuckled but it faded quickly from his lips and his expression shifted into something a little more serious. “I realized something when I was hopped up on Russian drugs.” She winced as he hung his head. The doctors had found nothing seriously threatening in both Steve and Robin’s systems from the drugs the Russians gave them, but Sunshine still worried that there would be some kind of bad side-effects in the long run. He seemed fine, but she could tell there was still an air of slight panic whenever he or someone brought up the Russians. 

Steve shook his head. “No, that’s…that’s not how I wanted to start this. Forget I said that.” She said nothing, patiently waiting for him to find the right words. He sucked in a deep breath and started again. “When Robin and I ran off to the bathroom, we talked for a while, just about life and stuff. And when I was talking, everything just kind of tumbled out, stuff that didn’t fully realize until that moment. But then everything else happened so fast. We got split up. Then Billy and the Mind Flayer and you…” He trailed off, gazing intently at his lap for a moment before he closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. Sunshine scooted closer and grabbed his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and encouraging him to continue. 

“You were just lying there, and it was like, all of that stuff I realized hit me, hard. I thought I wouldn’t get the chance to tell you. I mean, you were…we thought you were…” Dead, she finished inside her head. Either one of them said it aloud, but it was what they both were thinking. Sunshine thought she died too, by the way she felt. But she hadn’t; she had been one of the lucky ones that night, all things considered. 

Still holding his hand, Sunshine leaned forward just slightly, getting him to meet her eyes. “I’m right here, Steve,” she reminded him. “You can tell me now.” 

He stared at her, eyes swarmed with something she didn’t quite know. “You’re my best friend,” he said in a rushed breath like he’d been holding it back for so long it hurt. “You were my best friend when we were little, and you still are now. And even when you were gone, I felt like something important was missing from my life, but I couldn’t figure it out. Then you came back, and even with all of the crazy shit that’s happened, it was like everything made scene again with you here.

“I should have told you how important you were to me a long time ago, but I was scared because I didn’t know how you felt, or if I did, that I would lose you again. But then, that night, I thought we did lose you, and I was never going to get the chance to tell you any of it. I thought I wouldn’t get to tell you how much I like you, Sunshine. But I do. I really, really like you.” 

Sunshine sat speechless for a moment. Her heart felt like it was going to spring from her chest. Her face felt hot, and no proper words came to her mind. In all honesty, she had no idea what was doing until she began to do it, burning with emotions that made her brain feel fuzzy. Her next movements were fast, not very well planned, and clumsy. She leaned forward even more, quickly grasping the sides of Steve’s face, and pulling him close until her lips met his. She tried to remember every romantic movie El made her watch, but the second Steve’s surprise faded, his hands found her waist, and he kissed her back, everything in her brain melted.

There wasn’t some intense explosion like fireworks that ignited inside of her; it was softer than that, sweeter even. The kiss felt like the sun that set warmly outside, slow and in no rush but still bright and illuminating. Unlike all of the fights they endured and the complicated nature of their lives, in that moment, everything felt very simple and easy. It was only the two of them, together, and that was more than enough. 

After a couple of seconds, they pulled back, coming up for air and resting their foreheads together in a fit of smiles. 

“I really like you too,” Sunshine whispered. 

“I’m not totally convinced. You might have to kiss me again, you know, to really prove it.” 

She laughed but was swiftly cut off by Steve closing the small gap between them again. That kiss was still slow, but they were a little surer of themselves. They fit together with ease after an entire summer spent in a limbo of feelings and plenty of ‘almosts.’ Sunshine felt lighter; he was a bright spot in the dreary town, her own sunshine. 

Maybe nothing would ever be normal for them, as if it had ever been in the first place. But her siblings weren’t the only ones who would be getting a fresh start. 

Sunshine thought back to the girl she had been in the Lab, and how she wished she could have seen what the future had in store for her. At eighteen, years older than Subject Seven thought she’d live to, in a home with parents who loved her, siblings safe, and in front of a boy who made her feel wanted in ways the little girl never would have believed. Things were far from perfect, but her life was hers. 

Tagged. @sattlersquarry , @leptitlu , @two-sides-samecoin

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi I'd like to prompt malec relaxing and dancing in pandemonium! Maybe some SHs visit from a diff institute and they cause a disturbance so Alec takes it upon himself to throw out the trash. Even better if Magnus dressed Alec up so he's looking delectable and badass!

here we go, i had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! thank you for the prompt!

-

Alec lets his hips sway, rolling them to the tempo be the force of Magnus’ grip.

It’s mindless, dancing with Magnus.

He leads and Alec doesn’t even follow, he just has to let himself surrender over to Magnus and be moved and it’s a heady thrill for both of them.

Magnus’ sheer presence keeps the other dancers in a berth around them, affording them a privacy that is normally impossible in such a crowded place.

“I’m going to ruin you.” Magnus promises, goatee rubbing against the marks hidden in Alec’s deflect rune and Alec throws his head back, panting up at the ceiling as Magnus presses closer, his cock hard against Alec’s ass. His chest firm against Alec’s back.

Alec wants to give in completely, to forget about the heartbeat of the crowd and the smell of their sweat and arousal.

He’s about to fall into Magnus, to surrender completely but something doesn’t let him.

It’s instinct rather than because he sees or knows something wrong that has a small throwing knife falling to his palm and he rolls back into Magnus, fingers of his free hand pressing to the palm cupping him through his pants.

Alec groans, unable to do anything but accepts the pleasure even as he finally gets the opening his instincts need.

The dagger flies true and silent, invisible to the mundanes around them and Alec pants, an open mouthed smirk on his face as the shadowhunter stares at their own chest in shock.

It won’t kill him, but adamas never heals easily and it will leave a scar.

They follow the trajectory of the blade and meet Alec’s eyes and go even paler and Alec grins, a feral flash of teeth. Behind him, Magnus has noticed and he’s pressing closer, his fingers rough and possessive on Alec’s cock, demanding through the leather.

Alec moans, even as he tries to keep an eye on the intruder. He doesn’t care what reason they’re here for, there is no excuse that would be acceptable to Magnus, or to him.

This is Magnus’ club. The seat of his power where others come to lavish him with adoration and worship him.

None of Alec’s shadowhunters are allowed to enter. If they get a reading about trouble, Alec contacts Magnus and requests permission for a team to enter.

Or, Magnus just deals with it himself.

There is no reason for any shadowhunter other than Alec himself to be in the heart of a sanctuary that is only there for people under Magnus’ power and authority.

Especially not a shadowhunter Alec doesn’t recognize.

“How you delight me.” Magnus murmurs, a dark threat in his voice and Alec shudders. While riling Magnus up wasn’t his intention, he’s not the least bit displeased that Magnus is switching from languid sensuality to a deeper, claiming intensity. Magnus’ elegant, magical fingers squeeze, the outline of his rings painful even through the leather with how hard Alec is and how hazy his thoughts are going.

“Trash—” he mutters, gasping as teeth dig into his neck and he lets his head loll to the side, always eager for Magnus to take more and more of him.

“My team is already on it.” Magnus tells him, “now be a good boy for me, Alexander.” Alec whines as Magnus licks over where he bit, the sluggish flow of an open and bleeding wound making his head spin with pleasure. ”Let me take care of you. You’re so good, my lovely warrior. You can be better though, can’t you? My sweet boy, give yourself to me. I’ll take care of us both.”

It’s never a struggle to listen to Magnus’ request even though Alec knows it should be.

He’s been trained to never let his guard down yet, the simplest touch from Magnus or the softest command from his lips has Alec’s entire being begging to obey.

Like it’s a gift Magnus is giving him.

[666writingcafe]

With Me

Warning: a character decides to end their own life in Act V.

A Play Written By Christopher Peugeot

۞۞۞

CAST

Lucifer: The Prince

MC: The Attendant

Belphegor: The King of the Land of Sloth

Beel: The King of the Land of Gluttony

Leviathan: The King of the Land of Envy

Satan: The Fairy of the Wood

Simeon: The Narrator

CREW

Barbatos: Head Crew Member

Mammon: Set Designer

Leviathan: Costume Designer

Asmo: Hair and Makeup

Solomon: Composer

۞۞۞

INTRODUCTION

Narrator: Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a small and remote land, there lived a prince. This prince was a man who could be quite sadistic at times, but for the most part he was a caring man. He had many servants, but his favorite by far was his personal attendant.

Narrator: The prince's personal attendant had a terrible secret: they were cursed. From a young age, they watched everyone they ever cared about die in increasingly tragic ways. The only way that the curse could be broken is if they find their true love.

Narrator: One day, the prince received a letter from his betrothed, explaining that the time has come for them to finally wed. Not wanting to delay the ceremony any longer than necessary, the prince quickly packs his things and orders his personal attendant to accompany him on the journey to his betrothed's kingdom.

Narrator: In order to get there, however, they had to venture through various lands ruled by ruthless kings.

ACT I

The King of the Land of Sloth tries to force the prince and his attendant into an eternal slumber.

ACT II

The King of the Land of Gluttony tries to eat the prince and his attendant.

ACT III

The King of the Land of Envy nearly executes the prince and his attendant due to becoming jealous of their bond.

ACT IV

Narrator: At long last, the pair reach the kingdom of the prince's betrothed. Instead of being relieved, however, the personal attendant feels their stomach sink.

Narrator: Over the course of their journey, the attendant realizes that the prince might just be their true love, making it possible for their curse to finally be broken. However, the attendant knows that the union of the prince and his betrothed would bring political stability to the two kingdoms, so they decide to keep this revelation to themselves.

Narrator: What the attendant doesn't know is that the prince is having second thoughts about the wedding.

NIGHTTIME, PRINCE'S TEMPORARY CHAMBERS

Prince: I feel as though all these years, I've been living a lie, refusing to acknowledge the truth. To think that my true love has been right beside me all along...I don't know if I can go through with this.

Prince: *sighs* But I have to. I can't hope to marry them and live out our days together. It would be a selfish dereliction of duty, and I cannot abandon my people for their sake. *sighs again*

ATTENDANT WALKS UP TO THE DOOR, INTENDING TO CHECK ON THE PRINCE.

Prince: Just the thought of taking their hand and gazing into their eyes makes my heart pound with anticipation. I never knew I could feel this way. I never knew I had such passion inside me.

ATTENDANT RUNS AWAY, TEARS POOLING IN THEIR EYES.

ACT V

Narrator: Believing that the prince is completely smitten with his betrothed, the attendant rushes out of the castle. They don't know where they're going, but they know that they have to get away before they risk ruining the prince's happiness.

Narrator: The attendant ends up lost deep within a forest and catches the attention of the fairy of the wood.

Fairy: What is the matter?

Attendant: *cries silently*

Fairy: *places a hand on the attendant's shoulder* There's no keeping secrets from the fairy of the wood. I know what's in your heart. You've in love with a prince, aren't you?

Attendant: *sniffles and wipes their eyes* Yes. He is due to wed soon.

Fairy: I see. You know that only royalty is fit to marry a prince, yet you can't stop yourself from loving him.

Attendant: What do I do?

Fairy: *pulls out a dagger* Take this. Use it to kill his betrothed. That will grant you status and prestige...enough to marry your prince, I'd say. *pauses* But know that this is no ordinary dagger. Once you take it from me, you must use it to kill someone.

Narrator: The attendant takes the dagger and leaves the fairy of the wood behind. Instead of returning to the castle, they end up in a secluded meadow.

Attendant: I still remember the day I first met you, almost like it was yesterday. The way you fixed your eyes on me, that noble yet sincere gaze...

Attendant: The moment I beheld it, I was transfixed. And that was it. There was no going back. I fell for you completely, body and soul. I knew that if we were to become friends--and only friends--I'd be able to stay by your side forever. So I buried my feelings for you deep inside. Forever. At least, that's what I thought.

THE PRINCE WALKS INTO THE MEADOW AND QUICKLY HIDES BEHIND A TREE.

Attendant: *takes a deep breath* Is there any way that I might take their place? That you might feel for me what you've felt for them? I beg you, open your heart to me instead, to me and me alone.

THE PRINCE OPENS HIS MOUTH TO TELL THEM YES, BUT NO WORDS ARE ABLE TO COME OUT.

Attendant: Who am I kidding? You could never love someone like me. *plunges the dagger into their chest*

Prince: NO! *runs over to the attendant and catches them before they hit the ground* MC...! My dear MC!

Prince: *notices the dagger* Oh no...this is the cursed blade said to belong to the fairy of the wood. The curse required you to take a life, but you couldn't bring yourself to kill someone else, could you?

Attendant: *whispers* You love them. *dies*

Prince: No, my darling, I love you. *notices that the attendant is dead* I wish you could have killed my betrothed, but instead you've...

Prince: *nearly chokes on his tears* You've left me in a world without you. Is that really what you wanted? To condemn me to suffer through life without you?

Prince: *starts shouting* I loathe my royal blood, and I loathe a world without you in it! A curse on all of it, everything!

CONCLUSION

Narrator: Never did the two imagine that such a destiny awaited them at the end of their long, long journey. The prince's true love was dead, leaving him to suffer through life alone. Overcome with sorrow at having lost the person he loved, the prince became consumed by hatred, cursing the world and those in it. Transforming into a demon, he dedicated himself to bringing sadness and misfortune to people everywhere for all eternity.

[astariondisapproves]

( Because it is completely stuck on loop in my head, and I have fully imagined several of my own characters and Astarion while listening to What Was I Made For? By Billie Eilish for the Barbie Movie-

Apologize if it's too long, or if not your usual thing Cx Love your work! thanks for taking the time to read this, even if it's never asnwered~! Keep being your amazing self~! 💜💜💜)

Daniel's slender fingers danced across the dusty and long-forgotten keys of the abandoned piano, the slow and melancholic chords echoing within the ruined remains of the castle halls. Each key pressed was done so with careful care, gentle hands that wanted to savor the sweet tones that still came from the instrument, despite it's disrepair and the dilapidated state that surrounded them. It didn't take the half-drow long to part his dry lips and let his voice flow with the music.

"I use to float; now I just fall down... I use to know, but I'm not sure now what I was made for..."

The heavily weighing feelings of everything slowly washed over him, slipping from his lips and washing down to spill over the keys as naturally as water flows.

"What was I made for...?"

A pause filled the air, as tears filled the man's violet eyes, his long-gone-cold hands trembling as the emotions threatened to overwhelm him. But, with a deep, somber, pointless exhale, the Dhampir continued on. He had to: for Astarion.

...And his own sake.

"Takin' a ride, I was an ideal. Looked so alive, turns out I'm not real. Just something you paid for..."

"What was I made for?"

Astarion realized something was wrong when Daniel wasn't in his usual spot in the camp, which was typically sitting right next to Astarion chatting away as Astarion rinsed off and sharpened his daggers at the end of the day before settling down for the night, which sometimes included feeding on Daniel.

Tonight was one such feeding, so him not seeing Daniel in his usual spot worried Astarion. This wasn't like Daniel. So, turning towards his other companions, Astarion signals he'd be back, and they all shoot him a knowing glance as he merely scoffs at them in annoyance.

Traversing through the dark halls of the ramshackled underground fortress for a few minutes, Astarion's ears perk up when he hears a soft melancholic tune of a piano and then Daniel's voice sadly ringing out further down the hall. So rushing forward, Daniel's voice grows louder, and Astarion begins feeling desperate as he finally reaches the room with the music.

Sitting in the middle of the room was a piano that looked like it had seen better days with Daniel playing beautifully across the keys.

As the lyrics become clearer, Astarion feels a pang where his heart should be beating. His crimson eyes narrow and jaw clenches as he stands there almost in a trance before calling out quietly.

"Are you alright, darling?"

Astarion asks with genuine concern, finally striding towards Daniel before sitting down next to him on the piano bench. With a tentative touch, Astarion grasps the Half-Drow's hand and gives it a squeeze.

[thevoiceofthebard]

Chapter 12 - Arvel I: Bleak Falls Barrow

Middas, 20th of Last Seed 4E201 Evening

Arvel Swiftpinch

I wasn't always a bandit, you know. I used to be a merchant on Solstheim. Successful. Respectable.

Boring.

So I ran off to Skyrim, hoping to find something interesting to do. Nothing too adventurous, but anything beat counting Septims behind a counter, I thought. But all I found in Windhelm were a bunch of racists with anger issues. At best, I was ignored. At worst... Well, let's just say I joined this group of bandits mostly so I could get back at every Nord I could find.

If I'd known I was going to end up as a spider's diner, maybe I'd have stayed in Solstheim. It was my own damned fault, I suppose. A Draugr popped out of nowhere, and I panicked before Harknir or Bjorn could even react. I'm no bloody fighter; just a gossipmonger with a talent for picking up valuables, which is how I got this damned key in the first place. Its terrifying, rattling breath and strange language unsettled me enough without them jumping off the damn walls, and when I looked over my shoulder to see if it was following me, I ran straight into the largest web I'd seen in my life. The more I struggled, the worse it covered me, so I resigned myself to waiting for my compatriots. So I waited.

And waited

...And waited.

Did the Draugr kill them? I'd never been inside a Nordic ruin before, but surely no undead was sturdy or strong enough to kill two Nords. Every moment that passes is another closer to a pair of pincers in my neck. Was the spider still alive? The web seems recent enough. But why hasn't it come to check on the movement? And where are those bloody Nords?!... What if there was another path? They might have completely missed me. My heart starts beating furiously. I could die down here. No! I will not let Dagon have me! I will survive.

As if by providence, I suddenly hear footsteps from the hall, and voices - live ones. "Is... Is someone coming? Harknir, Bjorn, is that you?" The voices dim, but I can hear them moving about, more hesitant than before. "Look, I know I ran ahead, but the Draugr... I need help!"

Finally, two people appear in the doorway. But neither of them are Harknir or Bjorn. One is a skinny man in robes, and the other is... The biggest bloody Nord woman I've ever seen. Shit. Dagon is truly testing me this day. "Who are you? Oh, never mind. Cut me down before that thing comes back for us!"

"Us?" the Nord scoffs. "The only one I see in trouble here is you, bandit."

I shove aside the numerous curses running through my head; this could all turn to ash if I can't take control of the situation. "What happened to those idiots I left behind? I don't suppose you've killed them." The Nord continued to sneer at me, but the other one acted more neutrally. Whatever they were here for, he was my ticket to living... Or at least to keep the woman from running me through. "I won't lie and say they forced me to help them or anything, but I never hurt anyone! I was just an ear. The worst I ever did was palm a few items from a villager or two."

"Really? Such as a certain golden claw?"

For the love of... Can I not catch a single break? "Yes, yes, the claw. I know how it works, the claw, the markings, the door. I know how they all fit together. Just help me down, and I'll show you."

"Why don't you just tell us now, ash-face?"

Ash-face. How unoriginal. "Because I don't fancy you leaving me to die here while you run off. And the claw is in my pocket anyway."

"He has a point."

"Talao..."

The man - Talao, I suppose - pulls a dagger from his belt and approaches me. "He's one mer, Uthgerd. And covered in webbing. I doubt he'll be any trouble even if he wanted to be." Smug little n'wah. The Nord joins him after a moment, but the webs are absurdly thick, taking much longer to cut than I would have thought. "So," the... Talao says, "I'm a bit curious how you made it through that puzzle trap earlier. It was locked when we came through."

Puzzle? "I've no clue what you're on about. There was no gate or anything when I came through." Although I do remember a loud crash soon after I took off. I'd assumed it was the Draugr knocking over a pot or something.

"Hm. Perhaps it was rigged to close behind the first person to come through. I'm sorry to say it actually killed one of your fellows. Perhaps the last one of them, unless any escaped that Draugr. Nasty buggers, aren't they?" he asks me.

"Uh... Yeah. I was running from one, like I mentioned. Got me stuck here. Frightened the life out of me."

"Is that so? Well, you seem plenty alive to me. Stick with us, and we'll keep you that way," he says, grinning. Charming fellow. I feel calmer already. Another moment passes, and I feel the last rope release me. Finally.

Now, to figure out how best to ditch these fools.

Click-click.

Azura be praised.

I don't even need to fake the fear as a monstrous spider descends from the ceiling, finally drawn to the struggling of its trap. I scream "oh gods, don't let it get me! Kill it!" They both turn to face it, the woman drawing her weapon. When she charges forward, I accidentally trip Talao as I run further into the ruin, screaming loudly. Perfect. I keep my eyes firmly ahead, searching for any more webs I might run into. Now all that's left is to get to the wall, open it, and find out how to lock it behind me. Then I'll have all the time in the world to...

Snap

What was tha

Chapter 11 - Uthgerd III: Bleak Falls Barrow x Chapter 13 - Uthgerd IV: Bleak Falls Barrow

[troutberryspoon]

Unhallowed Heart - Chapter 3: 'An Alliance Beckons'

Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

Third chapter and we get a glimpse of Bhaal's Ecstasy of Murder as Durge Villi experiences it. So, time for some warnings: blood, violence, murder, implied sexual gratification, addiction, etc.

Word count: 1657

Full fic on AO3

___

One hour later.

The Bhaalspawn stalked through the dark streets, each footstep carrying him blessedly further away from Enver Gortash’s mansion. Villi’s shoulders were hunched beneath his cloak, tension radiating from him in palpable waves.

Ah. He spied a fat slug making its ponderous, slimy way across the damp cobbles in front of him. He diverted his path to crush it underfoot. Even gave his heel an extra half-twist to ensure it was smeared into paste.

More. He craved blood. He craved what would come after the blood.

Gods damn that man.

Gortash was clever. He was shrewd. He had played the part of simpering admirer with patience and skill and Villi had underestimated him completely.

This was all Sceleritas’s fault. It would be a bath of boiling oil for the Butler this time.

But later. Later.

For now, the Lower City called.

In its twisting rabbit warren of tight alleyways and switchback streets, Villi found his quarry soon enough. 

A young woman was huddled in a doorway, dressed in rags, her face prematurely lined by hardship and worry. On her lap rested the head of a young boy no more than eight summers old, gently sleeping. The woman hummed a lullaby while brushing her calloused fingers through the child’s curls.

How sweet. How touching.

How tragic it would be, if either one lost the other.

The woman looked up when Villi stopped and tapped his cane in front of her. Her expression was wary.

‘I’m not offering anything you’re wanting,’ she said quietly. ‘Please sir, let us be.’

‘I’d like you to hold this for a moment for me,’ he said, tipping the cane towards her.

The wariness never left her eyes, but the woman did as she was bid. Her hand left the child’s hair and wrapped around the ebony shaft. Villi wondered if she thought she could use it as a weapon against him.

Like a striking snake, his hand darted forwards, grabbing the boy by the front of his shirt and tearing him out of his mother’s grasp.

She shrieked. ‘No! STOP! Let him go!’

The boy awoke with a shudder, eyes wide, legs kicking while Villi held him aloft. The woman, now standing, froze when Villi placed the edge of his dagger against the child’s cheek.

‘I’m begging you. I’M BEGGING YOU!’

Villi pressed harder. Soft skin split. The boy and his mother both screamed as his blood began to run.

‘I’ll do anything!’ The woman’s voice was raw, as if her throat was filled with splinters. She still held onto the cane, knuckles white, but she made no move to use it. The difference between prey and predator, Villi thought.

‘Would you take his place?’ he asked.

‘Yes, yes! Let him go, please let him go! Please, PLEASE!’

‘Did you hear that, child? Look at me.’ He gave the trembling wretch a sharp shake. ‘Your mother is going to die tonight, and it’s all your fault.’

The woman moaned and sobbed. The boy cried so hard that he retched. 

It was horrible. 

It was beautiful.

Villi set the child down, turned, and pulled the woman close. ‘Bhaal awaits thee, Bhaal embraces thee, none escape Bhaal,’ he whispered tenderly in her ear before burying his blade in the yielding expanse of her abdomen. She dropped the cane the third time he stabbed her. She died around the eighth or ninth.

When his arm began to grow tired, Villi stopped and let the body fall. Then, using her blood as paint, he daubed his Father’s symbol on the ground around it. He stepped back to admire his work, and noticed that the boy was still there, still staring at the lifeless ruined thing that was his mother only a short time ago. Good. Let the memory burn itself deep. Let the boy hate Villi every time he saw the scar on his face in his reflection. Let him fear the day Villi would come for him too.

Bhaal smiled on the scene. Villi’s breath hitched. He felt the veil of invisibility slip over his form, prickling his skin as he disappeared from view. He left the boy in the alleyway as he headed north, seeking a place where he could be alone.

A delicious warmth had started to pool low in his belly. Villi rounded a corner and gave thanks when he found himself in a small abandoned yard. While he might currently be invisible, he couldn’t always stay silent when his Father’s gift flooded his veins.

The murder had been well received. Villi pressed his shoulderblades against a wall and tipped his head back, sighing breathlessly as every nerve sparked alight. The steel cables of tension that wrapped his neck tight started to unwind, his cares and worries slipping away one-by-one.

It didn’t happen every time he made a kill. The secret ingredient was love. If he could shatter someone’s heart, break someone’s mind and spirit, bereave an entire community because he had chosen to end a beloved person’s life, then he got a little treat. It had to be deliberate, too. Harrowing. Depraved. Cutting down an enemy on the battlefield didn’t count, regardless of how many orphans he made that way.

His body thrummed in pleasure.

‘Oh, fuck.’ His back arched, swept up in a climax of mind-numbing bliss. An escape, a release. 

And Villi was addicted.

Afterwards he felt hollow and sluggish, but at least his mind was now calm. He could consider the alliance Gortash had offered over dinner.

Essentially, Gortash had figured out that the Bhaalists in Baldur’s Gate were rapidly running out of gold. Their influence was dwindling. They were at risk of becoming nothing more than stories parents used to scare their naughty offspring. 

Villi knew his followers were feral. There was the sense that his arrival in the temple heralded the end times. He was the armageddon-watcher, made by Bhaal to be the last soul alive. Which meant that no-one seemed to be too concerned with keeping the books balanced. They simply murdered everyone in sight.

Over a main course of venison served with crushed swede flavoured with caraway, Gortash made this point; if they couldn’t source enough gold to raise the army needed to bring about the end times, how would it ever come about?

Villi felt seen. He had argued the same point at the pulpit countless times, but it always seemed to fall on deaf ears. Or worse, scheming ears. There were whispers that the Son of Bhaal cared more about coin than bringing death to the world.

‘But we need it!’

‘But you need it!’

Villi and Gortash had made the exclamation at the same time. As if they were in sync.

Just as Villi was starting to feel the stirrings of what could be a real connection for the first time in his existence, Gortash went and ruined it all by revealing that he was a devotee of Bane, the God of Tyranny. Bhaal’s sworn enemy.

Villi had stormed out before dessert had arrived. 

The invisibility enchantment shivered away.

‘Hells,’ he muttered. He had just realised that he’d left his cane in the alley with the boy and his dead mother. If he went back to get it and the child was still there, he’d ruin the scene.

There was a ‘pop’. The stink of burned eggs. Sceleritas.

‘I believe you dropped this, Master,’ Sceleritas said, handing him the missing cane. The fiend took in the blood that covered Villi from his hair to his shoes. ‘I take it you’ve had a good night?’

‘Not really,’ Villi said. ‘I left dinner early. I was going to boil you for suggesting that I go in the first place.’

‘A wonderful idea! I shall get the fires stoked–’

‘I don’t have the energy. Did you know that Gortash is a Banite?’

‘You don’t say.’

‘Sceleritas. Did you know?’

‘Who is to say what is known and what is not…?’

‘So you knew.’

‘Yes.’

‘K’roklig.’ Villi groaned. ‘I don’t know what to do. Gortash knows we’re up to our tits in shit and he–’

Sceleritas cleared his throat. ‘Ahem.’

‘He can help us. With enough funding we could raise an army of Deathdealers and Unholy Assassins, but Gortash asks for an alliance in return. A sworn pact that we will do him no harm. If I decline the temple could collapse, literally and figuratively. I’ll fail my Father and we’ll fade into history. If I accept, am I betraying Him? Will He forsake me?’

‘Your Father sees what is in your dear, puckered heart. You don’t seek this alliance to defy Bhaal, you seek it to glorify Him. He will see. He will know,’ Sceleritas said, patting Villi’s bloodsoaked arm. ‘Trust your Butler. The plan hasn’t changed. It’s true, the Banite knows more about our current challenges than we would like, and the terms are steeper than we thought before. I still see no reason why you can’t go along with it - for now.’

After a few moments of thought, Villi nodded. ‘You’re right. I pray my Father will understand. When we’ve amassed enough power I’ll end Gortash myself. No pact can hold me forever.’

‘Exactly, my Liege. Your destiny dictates that no soul can be left alive. This alliance will be worth less than the rags I use to clean the brain matter from your boots. You’ll just have to play the part, for a while. Your suffering will bring glory to us all.’

‘Then it’s settled. I’ll send word to Gortash on the ‘morrow,’ Villi said. ‘Come, let’s head back to the temple. I’ve got a deep gnome’s forearm in the beetle tank, it should be clean by now. Would you like to assist me with the wiring? I was envisioning a new book holder for my study.’

Sceleritas looked up at him in rapture. ‘Oh, Master!’

‘I’ll boil you afterwards.’

‘You are too kind to old Sceleritas, Master. Too kind!’

[agirlandherquill]

Knock, knock! I'm here to ask you about your lovely work! Don't mind if I just...

Ruin's Reprisal

A Deal of Daggers

Between The Lies

Fables of Fate

The Light of Darkness

Thank you, have a lovely day!!!

thank you so much for asking!

now, where to start? well with the top of the list I suppose as logic dictates, and it's also the work that's the most completed (and by that I mean im editing the second draft, everything else is only draft 1, if that)

Ruin's Reprisal in simple terms is a homage to all the fantasy books I grew up reading, and the one's I've read whilst drafting - it's in essence one big heist, lots of questionable morals (on the second protagonist's part more than most, aka Fenley), and a journey from losing everything to finding a purpose again, and the truth, or at least that's the case for Edeva, the main protagonist of the story, now what else is there to say? hm, there's fights, there's violence, there's betrayals and broken hearts, and magic - my interpretation of it, at least, and it's also a story of rebellion against the upper classes and the monarchy - it's the first story I ever wanted to write, and now about four years on it's almost complete, it's undergone a couple complete rewrites but I'm so happy with where it is now

A Deal of Daggers - this was the first time I ever tried nanowrimo, about a year ago, and I wondered if writing 50k words of something was possible (turned out it was, I'd hit the 80k mark by the end of it) and I fell in love with the characters and decided to keep on working through Christmas, then I sort of got side-tracked with Ruin's Reprisal, so that draft is about halfway complete, but knowing me by the time I get around to revisiting it (hopefully around autumn time) I'll fall in love all over again - but to tell you about the story itself, rather than a fantasy story I wanted something a little different, something more perilous, something darker - so, I ended up with an ex-assassin hiding her secret life from the man she is forced to partner with on a royal quest of sorts - an assassination ordered by the King, to remove the Queen, and that story's the amalgamation of secrets, forbidden desires, and the dangers of a society overrun by the underworld of crime

Between The Lies - well, I really wanted to step out of my comfort zone in this one, and tell a story in many different ways - through the eyes of a camera, transcripts, and most importantly, a journal - the journal of a doctor whose job it is to understand why a man killed the Chancellor of the country, and with a strict regime bearing down upon her it becomes a struggle to hide a secret of her own - she is not who she says she is, and the patient, the man under her care, has her figured out all too well - so to sum it all up, their lives are in each other's hands, and there's only a few days until the explosive trial which decides how their stories end

Fables of Fate - this one's much simpler than the rest, I wanted to test myself and see if I could write a novella, and I ended up writing three, which were prequels to two of the main characters of Ruin's Reprisal, and the background story of another character that readers will get to meet in it's sequel novel

The Light of Darkness - it's a ghost story, after watching Lockwood and Co, and being incredibly inspired by both that and Sherlock Holmes, I wanted to create a story that combined the supernatural with mystery - and that started with Emmeline, the main character, and the ghost hunter, who stumbles across Barnaby, a deserter from the military, in the middle of a hunt for a being that holds a clue to the mystery that her life depends upon - if she does not solve it, she will die. The two band together, after she rescues Barnaby, and he does his best to aid her and protect her from threats far more real than she is used to - society

and that's it, some stories are more developed than most but one day I hope to get them all fully fledged into novels!

[bardnuts]

Chapter 3!!

Be Gay, Do Drugs, Hail Satan - Chapter 3 - katabatic - Baldur's Gate (Video Games) [Archive of Our Own]

You are a wretched pile of shit. You are an abortion of nature. You are the sputum of a failed deity. You have such a headache. 

You wake to the gentle light of morning, aching like a pile of broken sticks, with a hollow pit in your stomach and a bedroll soaked in perspiration. All night long, you dreamed of blood. Killing. Oceans of gall and bile. It would be bad enough if they were nightmares, but they weren’t. In your fevered mind, they were dreams of beauty. 

The white-haired elf watches, unblinking, as you stagger around the campsite. His eyes track your every movement, but he says nothing as you wash your hands in the stream over and over and over again, and he doesn’t look away when you peel off your sweaty clothes to rinse them out. You’re too out of sorts to ask for modesty, but your skin prickles under his gaze. Maybe it’s the psychic link between your parasites, or maybe your imagination, but you can sense him eyeing the twin scars across your chest. A passing curiosity. 

He doesn’t address you until you look at him, and when you do, his expression metamorphoses from wariness to smug indifference in a heartbeat.

“Good morning, darling,” he says. “Sleep well?” 

This is hardly a question you need to justify with a response, so you just stare at him in sunken-eyed silence until he shrugs and continues, “You look thoroughly insane, I hope you know. Positively rabid. You poor thing. Tell me, how is your little friend doing?” Astarion prods at his temple. “Any sign of tentacles?”

Tell him the truth. Make him afraid. 

Your voice crawls out of your throat half-dead. “I dream of a dead world submerged in lakes of clotted blood.” 

Observe.

Astarion’s face shuffles through half a dozen possible reactions before it settles again on smug indifference. “Well,” he says, “do take care of yourself. Shall we? I’d prefer to find a healer before one of us succumbs to frenzied bloodlust.” 

He’s taking this surprisingly well. Perhaps he didn’t hear you. Try again.

The words bubble out of you. “I long to kill everything that draws breath, then drive the very blade that murdered the world into my own wretched heart.” 

“Not bad, if you’re going for a sort of prose poem,” says Astarion, “but I think your wording takes itself a bit too seriously. Now, can we go? Some of us have places to be.” 

The Urge releases its grip on you with a suddenness that makes you gasp. You sag on your feet and Astarion steps back with a grimace of revulsion—possibly the first honest expression he’s allowed you to see. This isn’t good. You need this guy if you’re going to survive out here. You can’t afford to alienate any allies. 

“Poetry!” you say. “Right. Too seriously, really?” 

“My dear, I’ve read better poems on tombstones.” He waves a hand. “Let’s go; I’d like to reach those ruins by midday.” 

Ruins? “We need to find a healer.” 

“Yes, obviously, but when we find a healer we will then need to pay a healer, and I didn’t see you vomit up any gold coins last night,” he snaps. “I think a little scavenging is in order. Now, are you coming with me or shall I go find that helpful boar again?” 

His feigned concern was nice while it lasted. You sigh. “I’ll need to get my lute.” 

You turn away and feel a ping of awareness which is almost completely alien to you: for the first time in your life, with a -2 penalty to wisdom, you have succeeded a perception check. 

You whirl around just in time for the point of Astarion’s dagger to halt, unerringly, in the hollow beneath your chin, pressed to your skin, sharp as a plucked string. 

He’s still wearing that same impenetrable smile. “Let’s take things nice and slow.”

You glance down at the blade and back up again. “This is already moving a little fast for me, to be honest.” 

Astarion keeps the knife where it is and closes the rest of the distance between you. His red eyes are fixed on yours. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. 

“I just thought we should come to an … understanding,” he says quietly. “I’d prefer to survive this horrid little camping trip. I’m sure you would, too. Do I have that right? Nod.” 

Nod.

You nod.

Now seize the knife and tear out his jugular with your teeth.

You do not do that.

“Good,” says Astarion. “Now, I don’t know what’s going on with you, and I don’t care. But I’ll be watching you, and I’m faster than I look, so I would think carefully before making any sudden movements. Otherwise I’ll need to bring our holiday to a premature end. Does that sound reasonable?” 

“So, so reasonable.” 

Still smiling, he removes his dagger from your throat. “Lovely. Now we can get on with things, and there won’t be any more secrets between us.” 

Did you hear that? It was the sound of you failing an insight check.

“Lead the way,” you say, shouldering your pack and your lute. “Or do you want me to walk in front? Keep an eye on me, and all that?” 

Fool! Never expose your neck to a stranger!

“I could not give any less of a shit where you walk,” says Astarion, but he allows you to take the lead as you set off into the trees. Birds rise twittering into the bright morning sun, which scatters on the leaves and paints the ground in gentle dappled patterns. “But I think we’ll get on fine so long as you don’t do any singing. Gods, why a bard …?”

Bear his jibes in silence.

You’ll get your vengeance soon enough.

~

Chapter 1

[fandomficsnstuff]

Wolves And Hounds - 14

(Warnings: Angst, a hint of fluff and more angst with a soft ending:3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was night when she first heard the snapping branch, her head lifting from his shoulder as she looked around in the darkness, the fire but embers next to them and she was suddenly aware of how cold she felt. She had gotten better clothing, mostly from a bandit or two who thought it was a good idea to take on a man like Sandor Clegane and at least he had the decency to give the ones with the least amount of blood on it from the… ‘encounter’. “Sandor?”

“Hm” he grumbled, eyes still shut as she looked around, heart starting to race as she felt a cold feeling spread through her, and not from any cold night air. “Someone’s here” she whispered and instantly he was awake. He’d found out through their few days on the road that she wouldn’t say things like that unless it wasn’t actually something to worry about, a wolf daring to brave the path to them as the flames of their fire died out in the night, or something else daring to approach… people… it’s how the bandits thought they had a shot, approaching in the night. But they didn’t have a shot and now they were dead and long gone, one of them laying in only his small clothes next to his dead friends as well as a ruined corset and the skirt of a dress. Both Sandor and Karliah listened closely for a long while, both of them on edge until finally… nothing. Sandor laid his head back down, eyes closing as he grunted a little, trying to get comfortable again. Karliah continued to stay awake, her head still lifted from his shoulders, surveying the darkness as that gnawing feeling of being watched just-... wouldn’t go away. “Dove, if you’re gonna keep me up for another second I’ll-”

“What? Kill me? I’d haunt your fucking dreams” she whispered and he scoffed “you already are” he grumbled and she glared at him, attempting to mean it but she just couldn’t, just like she couldn’t shake that nagging feeling. Sandor groaned and sat up “if anyone’s out there, either fuck off or attack us and get it over with!!” he shouted into the darkness before laying back down, Karliah staring at him with wide eyes, listening to the darkness for a while longer before hesitantly laying back down, placing her head on his shoulder once more and his arm wrapped around her, making her smile a little as she closed her eyes and attempted to fall asleep again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Karliah yawned as she slowly turned the rabbit on the stick over the fire that she had blown life back into, her knees tucked to her chest until she heard clothes ruffling and a hand gently tapping at her back, just to get her attention and she turned to look at Sandor. “The fuck’re you doing up this early?” he asked quietly and she shrugged lightly “got hungry” she admitted, looking back at the rabbit she cooked before taking it away from the fire, examining it on the stick and Sandor sat up with a frown when he saw it. “Where the fuck did you get that from?”

“I caught it?”

“You caught it? With fucking what?”

“Your dagger.”

“My dagger?”

“Yes. Your dagger…”

“How the fuck-”

“I threw it and it hit the rabbit and, well,” she lifted up the stick the skinned and cooked rabbit was on “breakfast” she stated with a shrug, blowing carefully on the cooked meat before hesitantly placing her fingers on it, testing the warmth and if she could pull some of the meat off to begin to eat, Sandor watching her closely with a frown. “You threw a dagger and-”

“Seven hells, Sandor! Yes, I threw a dagger at a rabbit and hit it!”

“And you skinned it?!”

“Obviously” she pointed out with a scoff, finally being able to tear off some of the cooked meat, holding it over her shoulder at him, offering it and he scoffed, reaching for it before snatching it, eating it and he had to admit, it was actually okay…

“See? I’m not completely helpless.”

“Aye, not completely” he grumbled and she playfully glared at him before picking at the rabbit meat, eating it as Sandor got up, grabbing some of the meat as well as he walked around the small camp, beginning to pack up.

“You know, a horse wouldn’t be such a bad idea” she stated with a shrug as she continued to eat, offering him what was left of the rabbit on the stick once she was done and felt that she’d had enough, Sandor scoffing as he took it and began to eat the rest of the rabbit “if you spot a purse full of coin and a stables, let me know” he muttered with sarcasm and Karliah scoffed “sure, and while we’re at it, maybe we - excuse me, I - can replace the dress you ruined.”

“Yer can’t wear a dress in this-”

“So you’re saying that you wouldn’t want to see me in a dress?” she asked with a smirk, watching how he froze for a moment, his eyes moving to her and she innocently tilted her head, watching as his eyes took in her body freely and she grinned “aye, I’ll get you that dress one day… so I can tear it off you again” he stated bluntly and she bit her lower lip, attempting to suppress her grin. “You’ll have to get me a lot of dresses, then, if that’s how they’ll all end up.”

“Maybe just one or two on the floor… maybe” he stated casually, watching how she smirked almost with excitement as he just continued to eat the rest of the rabbit, her eyes locked onto his lips and she couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel someplace… else… someplace they’d never been before…

She was so lost in her own thoughts and fantasies that when someone grabbed her and put a knife to her throat, jumping out from the nearby tree line, she hadn’t even seen it coming, her eyes wide as she gasped, Sandor already standing up with his sword out, the rest of the rabbit forgotten and she can’t remember ever seeing him this angry… “careful now, Hound. I don’t want to, but I won’t hesitate to hurt your pretty little lady” the voice spoke and Karliah felt her heart race, her eyes moving to the men coming out of hiding in the woods, surrounding them and she frowned, flinching as one of the men disarmed Sandor roughly, the men tying his hands behind him and she struggled, briefly, against her captor’s hold, making a small cut appear on her neck from the knife and she winced in pain, the blade cold, leaving goosebumps in it’s way and she felt a single drop of her blood run down the length of her throat. “Quiet now, ‘Dove’” the man whispered and Karliah’s blood ran ice cold at the nickname, her eyes moving to Sandor as rope was tied around him, locking his arms in place and preventing him from moving them much. As soon as he was tied firmly, she was pushed towards him, only for a man to catch her, spinning her around and grabbing her wrists, tying them together behind her back before spinning her back around to face him, a quiver of arrows on his back, a bow over his shoulder as he smirked at her “what’s your nam-” she launched her head forward, knocking her forehead against his nose and he stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood stained his hands, Karliah blowing her hair out of her face, straightening up a little and Sandor smirked at her with a darkened gaze that made her blood run hot, every nerve in her body set alight, ready to be lit on fire by him and him only. “You bitch!” the man she’d hit shouted, approaching, rope in his hands and he tied it around her arms just like with Sandor, a look of anger in his eyes as he did so. She kept his gaze defiantly before a hood was thrown over her face, plunging her into darkness and her heart began to race, panic flooding her. “Get this thing off of me!! Sandor-” she cut herself off as she was shoved forward, right into something hard and she instantly relaxed, recognising him by his scent. “Lay a hand on her again and I’ll rape your fucking corpse!” Sandor growled as he was forced forward, Karliah being shoved along with him.

She wasn’t sure for how long they walked but the sounds of other people began to fill the air, getting through the hood over her head and reaching her ears. She could hear Sandor as he threatened the man she’d knocked her head against his nose, Sandor’s voice a source of comfort for her, until suddenly they all stopped. She heard a voice speak to Sandor and her heart raced, her brows knitting under the hood as she thought she recognised the voice. But it couldn’t be. She was dead. Right? She was dead… before she could think further on it she was shoved forward again, hearing a thud and a grunt and someone saying something about minding their head and soon she was forced up a few steps into a carriage, her heart racing as she was forced to sit down next to Sandor, another man sitting down next to her in return.

---------------------------------------------------

She winced as she was forced down some stones, the sound of a waterfall background noise as she winced in pain, one of the rocks having cut her when she slipped and she hissed but continued walking, feet unsteady and hesitant as she had no idea where she was, her sight robbed of her, leaving her like a newborn with no one to truly guide her, only someone shoving her forward, occasionally forcing her to turn left or right to follow whatever path they deemed. Soon the waterfall faded and the sound of crackling fire could be heard, her heart racing as she was made to stand still, hearing someone approaching and suddenly her hood was ripped off, her eyes squinting as she adjusted to the flames right in front of her, a frown on her brows as she looked up at Sandor, seeing him still with his hood on, her binds being cut and her heart raced. “There you go, M’Lady” a man mumbled and as she turned to look around, her eyes widened in shock. There, past some flames, stood a young girl, talking with a boy, head turned and unaware of Karliah, her knees weak at the sight of the little girl. “Arry..” she sobbed quietly, taking a hesitant step towards the girl. “Arya!” she called out, the girl looking in her direction and her big eyes grew even bigger. She raced over to her, wrapping her arms around her and Karliah sobbed as she leaned down, her hands still tied, leaving her unable to hug her back. Arya quickly parted from her, hastily undoing the ropes, ignoring everyone that asked what she was doing. “I thought you were dead! I thought Joffrey had killed you! I thought he’d kill you too” Arya babbled and the second she was free, Karliah pulled Arya into a tight hug, letting out a shaky sob “I thought you were dead… I thought you were dead and I’m so sorry… They wouldn’t let me out of the Keep to look for you, I’m so sorry” Karliah whispered, Arya hugging her even tighter, making Karliah smile in relief and bliss. She quickly parted from Arya, cupping her cheeks in her hands as she kneeled down “Sansa. Your sister. She’s alive as well…” Karliah revealed, her thumbs gently rubbing Arya’s cheeks “Seven Hells, girl…” she cussed before pulling Arya into another tight hug. “Gods, I’ve been so worried” Karliah admitted, letting out a shaky sigh “where have you been all this time?!”

“Yoren, a man of the Night’s Watch, was supposed to take me to the Wall, to Jon, but the Lannisters killed him…��

“Your hair…”

“Yoren cut it… so I’d look like a boy…”

“Clever…” Karliah admitted, kneeling down and kissing the top of her head lovingly “you’ve always been clever, Arry” she muttered as she hugged Arya, Arya smiling against her. “Hold on, ‘Arry’? How’d you know that name?” a boy, the boy she’d been talking with, stepped forward, asking, and Karliah frowned at him “it’s what I’ve always called her…” she admitted and looked down at Arya, who shrugged ever so slightly, sheepishly, “I-I might’ve-... called myself that… while pretending to be a boy” she admitted and Karliah chuckled with amusement “you’ve always been clever.”

She looked over at Sandor, a frown forming when she saw that he was still tied up with a hood on.

As the hood was removed, he flinched back from the fire in front of him, turning to his side where Karliah had been and she let go of Arya to hurry over to Sandor “I’m alright” she whispered, her heart racing as she looked at the rope around him as he scoffed, talking with the others as she moved to untie him. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you, M’Lady” one of the men spoke and she froze, looking up at him, her jaw clenched in anger and Arya frowned “why are you helping him??” she asked with shock and suspicion and Karliah looked over her shoulder at her, glancing up at Sandor who kept his eyes on her, as if wanting to allow her to answer. Karliah hesitated before stepping towards Arya, a frown on her brows as she sighed “he’s-... my husband” she admitted quietly, Arya’s eyes widening in shock, looking between the two “you married him?!”

“It’s more complicated than that, Arry-”

“Weren’t exactly by choice” Sandor grumbled to himself and Karliah glared at him “Sandor!” she snapped and he rolled his eyes “the fuck’re you all doin’ with the Stark girl anyway-?”

“My Lady Stark” a voice called and she looked up, her eyes widening at the man she saw. And recognised. “Ser Beric? What-... What’s going on?” she asked as she looked around, stepping a little closer to the Lord of Blackhaven. “The last I saw you, my brother sent you out to deal with-” she looked up at Sandor before looking back at Beric “some pillagers…”

“Aye, he did. Your brother was a good man, an honest man. I’m sorry for your loss” he stated sincerely and Karliah nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, letting out a shaky sigh “thank you, I appreciate that.”

“I had heard the sister of Ned Stark had been forced to marry the king’s personal lapdog, under Joffrey’s orders… Are you here by choice?”

“That’s-... complicated” she admitted sheepishly, looking up at Sandor before sighing “please, untie him?”

“My Lady-”

“Please, Ser Beric” Karliah pleaded, Beric studying her before looking up at Sandor who hadn’t taken his eyes off of Karliah. “I’m afraid we can’t do that, My Lady.”

“Stark deserters, Baratheon deserters…” Sandor scoffed as he looked around and Karliah sighed, closing her eyes in annoyance for a brief moment before opening them again. “You lot aren’t fighting in a war, you’re running from it!”

“Last I heard, you were King Joffrey’s guard dog and had broken every tradition and rule and taken a wife. Yet here you are, 1,000 miles from home… which of us is running?”

“Untie these ropes and we’ll find out” Sandor growled and Karliah had had enough, moving to step between the two. “Boys, you’re both very pretty with big cocks. Now shut up” she snapped, Sandor looking down at her with a harsh glare, one that should make her cower but she just raised a brow at him, a silent challenge and he grunted in annoyance and let out a huff, making Karliah nod to herself. She turned to Baric, studying him before crossing her arms over her chest “why are we here, Ser Baric?”

“Truthfully, we only intended to grab the Hound, and we would have, had he been alone. It seems my men didn’t know who you were, otherwise they would have cleaned that cut on your throat” he stated and pointed at the nick she had gotten when they had first taken her and her husband, her hand moving up, thoughtlessly running her fingers along the dirty wound. “What are you doing, leading a mob of peasants?” Sandor asked with a scoff, taking a step closer, his chest against Karliah’s back and she felt an odd sense of comfort from the touch, even through his armour. “Ned Stark ordered me to execute your brother in King Robert’s name-”

“Ned Stark is dead. King Robert is dead. My brother is alive” he spat next to him after speaking to get his point across, of course avoiding Karliah, before looking back up at Beric “you’re fighting for ghosts” he added, Beric smirking a little “that’s what we are. Ghosts. Ghosts waiting for you in the dark. You can’t see us, but we see you… no matter whose cloak you wear - Lannister, Stark, Baratheon - you prey on the weak, the Brotherhood without Banners will hunt you down.”

“You found God, is that it?”

“Aye. I’ve been reborn in the light of the one true God… as have we all… as would any man who’s seen the thing we’ve seen.”

“If you mean to murder me then bloody well get on with it. Just let my wife go” he stated calmly yet with a growl and Karliah scoffed, looking up at Sandor with soft eyes “until the end of my days” she reminded him and he looked down at her, his entire expression softening and she gave him a soft smile that melted his ice-cold heart, his dead heart beating a single time. Just for her. And he finally realised why he abandoned all he’s ever known, leaving everything behind in King’s Landing, taking the one thing, the one person, who ever truly mattered to him, the last person who’d ever matter, no one else would come after her.

The one person he loved.

[ruiniel]

Prickly thorns, tender roses

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Rating: Mature🔞

Relationship: Alucard/Original Female Character

Characters: Alucard, Original Character(s)

Summary:

Set after the events of Castlevania (Netflix) Season III. After the betrayal of his young apprentices, Alucard feels barely alive in his lonesome castle. Days wear on, chipping away at his mind and sanity. And what is the son of Dracula to do with this unwanted visitor, suddenly come at his doorstep? Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses - Ovid

Chapter tags & warnings: Inspired by Castlevania, Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, POV Original Character, Post-Castlevania Season 3, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Canon Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood Drinking, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Strangers to Lovers, personal interpretation of post-season III Alucard

PART I

AN: first Alucard longfic from 2020. Heavily follows ‘Beauty and the Beast’ trope.

< PREV NEXT >

XVI. Changes

Ravenna glanced upward, to the lowered golden head, the eyes set on her wrist, then to the steady hands holding her arm fast. She was lying down on a table close to the apothecary section of the wide knowledge trove which consisted of his library and ruined laboratory.

A sharp hiss filled the space when Adrian poured a clear liquid over the open gash. His gaze flickered momentarily to hers before drifting back to the cut. The dagger had been sharp, and her nerves had been strained at the time. Thus the wound was deep, and as the pair reached the castle after an endlessly silent trek, the dhampir took Ravenna straight into this area to mend it. We would not want you succumbing immediately after such an honorable feat, he had said derisively. But in truth, Ravenna had sensed an eerie sort of unease reaching from him, along with the distracting sound of his heart and the feel of him, so warm and tense against her. In his arms at the time, the woman had completely and shamelessly leaned into him. And the silk of his bare neck against her temple was still etched into her mind, as was the beating of his life, pulsing through her with an intensity Ravenna had never experienced nor felt before.

"What type of alcohol is that?" she asked presently as the blond placed the bottle aside.

"A strong regional moonshine. It should prove a good enough disinfectant," Adrian replied, reaching for a thread and needle placed aside.

It was true. Though a largely forgotten piece of knowledge nowadays which few but healers and scholars were privy to, the ancients had been known to resort to alcohol for the cleansing of wounds. And he knew of it, of course he would know of it. His mother had been a physician after all.

"Now, its use will be twofold," he continued blankly, meeting her eyes again and handing her the bottle which Ravenna took with her other hand, rising into a seated position. She regarded the transparent liquid with a critical eye. "I must stitch the wound, and we have nothing to numb you with, so drink."

Warily, she complied. Ravenna coughed her heart out after the first burning sip reached down her throat and poured its fire into her stomach, mellowing her limbs. She did not partake in alcohol and thus her body had little resistance to speak of. She made a face, "Disgusting."

"More, Ravenna. This will hurt," Adrian urged as their eyes met.

There was a sudden sizzle ringing in her ears when she now stared into those golden eyes, and though Ravenna saw nothing in their depths, she somehow felt it all. His lips had touched her skin, she had offered him to partake of her blood... and it had transformed him, if only momentarily, into someone much more ruthless, merciless and no less deadly. It was the great proverbial behemoth in the room, but none would speak of it. She had never been as frightened of anything before, not even when gasping for breath under a night creature's hold; nor had she ever been as damnably excited. The thought caused immediate distress. What... what is happening to me?

"I have never done this before, mind you," Adrian broke the silence, finally looking away. "I have only ever seen my mother do it," he took the needle and thread, also placed into a dish with alcohol.

She could not do it properly herself anyway. Ravenna nodded in understanding, taking another swig of the moonshine. The taste was horrible but its numbing effects were already making themselves known. Just then Adrian placed a hand to her shoulder applying only a little pressure, urging her to lie down again. She startled, and as drawn by an unseen force their eyes met again. When had his become so dark? The shade of them was no longer light gold, no. His irises were now a reddish copper as they bore into hers. Ravenna swallowed and slowly reverted to her horizontal position, still unable to look away. And apparently neither was he, for the beam of his eyes still burned into her.

His lips, on her skin... What in God's name is wrong with me? the woman averted her gaze to the side.

As hours wore on since their return Adrian appeared to have regained himself, though Ravenna did not know nor understand his kind well enough to properly ascertain this. Though his drinking of her had seemingly been a deeply hidden and covert curiosity - if she were to judge by how the incubus had used it against her - the reality of it had been quite different, and in circumstances she never could have imagined. It had hurt immeasurably, it had been harrowing to feel her life force draining from her body. And when he ceased the unseen link had snapped, leaving her dazed, confused and... and... wanting? Part of her felt ashamed that she should think of him in this manner, knowing how troubled his mind and spirit were.

But try as Ravenna did, whenever he touched her now her body craved more pressure, more of him, more, more, more... Her skin would burn, her heart would rage. A sharp sting woke the woman from her unsettling colorful array of guilty thoughts. He had begun to stitch the wound. Her eyes strayed unbidden to his deathly white face now strained in concentration, to his furrowed brow, the straight set line of his mouth. He was even paler than usual. If she did not know better and under different circumstances, Ravenna would think him absolutely adorable, an apprentice attempting his trade for the first time. Gods, she had nearly lost him. Ravenna shook the offending thought away. Yes, she was undoubtedly somewhat unhinged, delirious even... she must be. How could she lose something that was not even hers?

"What were they looking for?" Ravenna decided to switch her mind to matters more rooted in reality.

The needle pierced her flesh again, and his gaze snapped to hers as if to determine its effect.

"You have had the pleasure of encountering bounty hunters boasting alchemical enhancements to their bodies. Their livelihood consists of contracts for gold. Mercenaries, if you will. And when desperate they resort to actively hunting creatures of the night to sell for profit to other humans, ones foolish enough to think they can contain the forces of Hell, or else subdue them to do their bidding."

"Then you-"

"I was a fortuitous and valuable catch to them," Adrian supplied. His gaze caught hers again at the words, before trailing to how her dark hair was fanned about her on the table, then back to her face and down to the hollow of her neck. A smile caught her by surprise, dry and brittle though it was. "-would have been," he corrected. "That was very foolish of you," his voice came softer, or she may have imagined it.

A different sort of sting flared behind her rib cage as Ravenna turned her head, a light crimson blush spreading over her cheeks. "You regret it then... that I returned for you." She gritted her teeth and gasped when the needle pierced skin again. It still irked her less than his words had.

"Ravenna," the young woman heard her name, and it came different to her ears than any times before.

When she did not deign to look his way Adrian continued. "I am not at all ungrateful for your successful attempt. I only denounce its worth compared to the risk you took," but there was no admonishment there. Yet Ravenna could not place the emotion coloring his voice, if there even was any.

"That sounds pretty much like ungratefulness to me," she bit, her words slightly slurred. Her belly felt warm and her eyes had become glazed over. "And of the self-righteous sort, at that," she could not help but add.

Ravenna heard a scoff and none spoke again until he was done, cutting the remaining thread with a small pair of metal scissors. He then bid her stand upright and as Ravenna did so, she found him standing close before her. Adrian took her forearm and applied of the mixture she had previously prepared for her other wrist. And Ravenna could not help but watch him as he worked, keenly feeling the touch of his fingers along with the pain. He was very close, standing effectively between her knees as she faced him. This way they stood precisely at eye level. She wondered what it would feel like to bring her legs around him-

Be silent! the woman willed her troublesome mind to cease. Just then his head snapped upward, and their eyes met again. Still holding her wrist Adrian was now in the process of wrapping it over.

What to say? The way his eyes shone was new and no less strange, and why on earth was he looking at her so... so... Hungrily? "Thank you for doing this," Ravenna settled for voicing her gratitude, her mind significantly fogged over and numbed by the alcohol she had ingested. Had she drunk too much?

A line tensed in his jaw, and for a moment Ravenna thought his shoulders fought back a shiver, his grip on her arm tightening so briefly she may have missed it, if she had not been so very aware of him. His gaze sharply flickered downward. "Never again, Ravenna," Adrian voiced, and there was both a plea and a command there. "No matter the peril, no matter my state. Never again."

Ravenna knew what he meant. He was closer, he felt closer. She wanted to bring her legs around his hips, her hands around his neck and... she shut her eyes when fingers tilted her chin upward.

"Do you understand?" Adrian urged, his gaze burning into her lowered eyelids.

"Yes," the woman managed, wanting more than anything for him to cease this, this... whatever it was that made her insides boil and churn and her thoughts so inflamed.

When Adrian released her and stepped away she felt hollow.

"Do you think they knew who you were?" Ravenna voiced another thought. "Do you think they were looking for you?"

Adrian sighed and followed the veiled skies visible beyond the great window. "I do not think so. But they may have sensed my presence owed to the concoctions they use. It enhances their abilities to track creatures of the night."

"Where are you going?" Ravenna asked swiftly when he turned his back on her.

"To the study," Adrian briefly looked over his shoulder at her just as Ravenna stepped off the table and was on her feet. His face was open to her for once, and it appeared as though he pondered and weighed between a number of opposing notions. "If you wish and prefer to rest there instead of the bedchamber, you may come with," Adrian voiced tentatively, and taken aback as she was Ravenna failed to reply until he was already walking away.

Despite her weariness and addled state, despite all that had happened since life had her stumbling into him of all people, in spite of her two mangled wrists and his unusual and oft times contradictory manner-

It was all she wanted presently. "If that bears no trouble to you," Ravenna hastened heading towards him while also wary of his own condition. What did drinking blood after a time of abstinence do to one of his kind?

When she reached his side Ravenna was regaled with another of his wry smiles. It was not the kind which suited him best, but beggars could not be choosers. "Oh you are trouble, Styrian. But of what kind, I have yet to determine."

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