#sweet lord this took me forever

[thevalleyoftriumph]

Helloo o/ I'm the anon from earlier who sent you many many questions about your system chosen Very glad that my ask wasn't overwhelming because I approach with yet more questions >:] get ready Does Dark know Chosen is a system? Or a part of a system? Unsure of the correct way to call it. What does he think of each of them if yes? I can see Dark talking excitedly about a shared interest with Killer, Dark loves Chosen dearly but its. Difficult. To get a bit of emotion out of him. Killer though? Once they feel comfortable around him I can see them allowing themselves to become more expressive/ easily excited "Beast had sorta filed them away as one of the very few ""trustworthy"" sticks" <- quote from the answer you gave to my first ask. I'm guessing Dark was also in this list yes? Beast was co-conscious during AVA3 if i remember correctly and so saw Dark was willing to help and defend. Even if Beast didn't trust them 100% it didn't think of them as a threat right? Maybe even considered him an ally And if yes, Dark was on the Trustworthy list, what about the virabot thing made Beast decide "Hmmm no he's an enemy actually"? I wonder how Killer unmasking around Dark for the first time went, and whether that's how Dark found out his brother is a system Has Killer ever jumped 10ft in the air because they were startled by the toaster? And if yes, how long did it take for Dark to stop laughing Has Beast ever come out mid spar? Realises they're mid combat so rushes out to protect and- And Dark realises he's not fighting who he was before, Chosen doesn't look at him with infinite distrust. Killer doesn't stand both ready for combat and to flee at a moments notice (Beast wouldn't flee, but despite that, I think its always ready to). Dark just backs away slowly I think, lowering his hands and doing everything possible to communicate he's not a threat. This allows Beast a bit of extra time to take in what's around, just incase its missed something in its initial assessment and. And they're both wearing handwraps, Dark's taken their bracelet off and whoever was here before Beast tied their jacket round their waist. Beast doesn't need to protect here, but it does now need to apologise I'm guessing Beast remembers it can speak while fronting from time to time right? Even if it feels Odd. I've got the mental image of Dark cooking something for himself, except Beast ALSO likes it alot alot and Dark just hears "Please." from behind him. Turns around to see Beast staring at him like its trying to beam the thought directly into Darks mind. They understand, and Dark maybe even gets a "Thank You" after the foods made. Idk, I like small things like that, if Dark doesn't know Chosen's a system then its just a small couple What-If's or What-Could-Have-Been's Also, what is a Singlet? I cant remember where you used the word but I am unfamiliar with it Also also, VERY happy that my terminology is correct, that whole ask I was terrified that I was aggressively wrong about something and was going to end up being incredibly rude Also ALSO also, I am giving Beast a mug of hot chocolate and a weighted blanket. It deserves to relax Breaking this up into more than one ask because tumblr is angry with me

WOW. HI!!!! OH MY GOD. HELLO. you are literally the most bestest person ever for being so curious and allowing me to speak so much WOW okay let me break all this down.

putting everything once more under a cut, but a breakdown here is i FIRST go through unrelated things such as helping a bit with your confusion on terms and meanings, before getting into the actual AVA stuff, so if anyone wants to skip that, there Is gonna be a linebreak ^_^ a lot of it is just definition talk so its probably boring if you already know this stuff lol. if youve come just for the headcanon, feel free to skip down to it! <3

FIRST ! since you were a bit confused, i would like to say; DID specifically stands for "Dissociative Identity Disorder." It is probably the most well known of the disorders that would constitute as being a "system" disorder, if you will. In the past it has been referred to by other things such as MPD, or multiple personality disorder, but that is since considered inaccurate and incredibly out of date.

OSDD, or Other Specified Dissociative Disorder, is another dissociative disorder as the name implies. In one specific case, is similar to DID in that a major symptom is the forming of distinctive parts - or alters - but has enough differences that it's been classified as it's own thing [though iirc, some professionals are debating if the distinction is necessary? Honestly I'm not a psychologist so I can't really comment on that part, but I felt it was worth noting that this was brought up once or twice.]

The distinction here is this; DID is usually diagnosed when there are at Least two distinct "parts" to a person, often being two [or more] entirely seperate people, and is paired with amnesia. This is not at all everything to do with the disorder, as it's a massively complex disorder with plenty of symptoms, but it is this specific symptom set in its most basic explanation. OSDD however can vary! OSDD-1 is specifically defined by wikipedia as when one is experiencing a "sub thresh-hold" to DID. There's way more "types" to OSDD, and as such I am not nearly equipped enough to talk about 2-4, but chances are if you're speaking to a system who has it, they will usually have either OSDD-1A, or -1B. These two aren't technically real diagnostic terms, they're moreso used to describe a set of symptoms. 1A is defined as having less disticnt alters than DID or 1B. 1B is specified by a lack of complete blackouts, aka amnesia, though they may instead experience grayouts and emotional amnesia. To be fair in at least my case specifically, grayouts are pretty common rrrregardless? But honestly that might just be a My Own Thing issue and a case of overlapping symptoms than anything else, so don't take my word for it entirely lol I get complete blackouts and grayouts and its soooo miserable helppp [I'm being lighthearted in tone on purpose you're allowed to laugh ^_^ /gen]

Lastly, the term "singlet" is an unofficial term that a lot of systems online use to refer to people who do not have alters. I'm like 99.9% sure it's like, never used in a professional setting, but I'm also Not a psychologist, again, so I have no clue if it's ever used offline. It's not anything negative, just a descriptor term the same way many other descriptor terms are used :]

Okay that's about it for explaining things. If anything else confuses you for any reason please don't be afraid to ask! And if you wanna look into it yourself, all I'll say is use literally anything OTHER than social media for research, there's a crazy amount of misinfo, especially on Tumblr or Tiktok.

Onto the questions and scenarios -- for questions, I will once again copypaste and bold them. For scenarios, I'll probably end up putting in a screenshot [with IDs, don't worry] for clarities sake.

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1: Does Dark know Chosen is a system? Or a part of a system? Unsure of the correct way to call it. What does he think of each of them if yes?

For a very long time, Dark had NO idea Chosen was part of a system. [And either descriptors work, I honestly use both depending on which sounds less clunky at the time lol].

Dark had just assumed Chosen had some odd "quirks" here and there for ages, and didn't really push too hard whenever "Chosen" ended up getting really quiet, or more jumpy. I def agree with your HC that Dark probably doesn't have very many interactions [if any at all] with sticks outside of Chosen, so at most he just assumes this is normal.

Of course eventually, they do end up telling him - it takes a lot of effort on their part to build up the courage to do it and not immediately chicken out, because this is a Pretty Personal Thing after all, but like. Dark takes it so much better than they were expecting? And he's also very open to accomodating the other two with very little issue. Even if it takes time for Killer [and even Beast] to relax enough around him, and even if he does still have some trouble telling who's-who at first, he does try his best. At the end of the day, the three are his family, and he DOES care about them.

While we already know [or can at least infer] what he feels about Chosen, he does have different thoughts about the other two. You're 100% right this part specifically:

Dark and Killer do have quite a bit of overlapping interests, they realize once they get to talking to each other! They honestly bounce off each other scarily well, and are the type of people to start a stupid bit as a joke and just keep adding onto it for like, twenty minutes. For the most part, Dark's perception of Killer is positive! He's also gotten a bit into the habit of being A Bit Obviously Noisy around the house once realizing Killer's issue with being snuck up on or surprised - previously, Dark was unintentionally VERY quiet. He's naturally sorta light on his feet, lacking footsteps most of the time, and ends up startling most people. After both a discussion and accidental event, he starts trying to be more purposefully loud in their home, especially if he's somewhere Killer can't see, or has to be behind them for one reason or another. Nothing anything TOO loud - no slamming doors or footsteps, no yelling, just casual noise. Jewelry that clacks together or just humming a song.

With Beast, he's more cautious. He understands its purpose, and why it's there, and for the most part, Dark doesn't really.... saying he doesn't mind makes it seem like something it's not but honestly I can't find a better way to word it. He doesn't mind its staring or its lack of speaking, and I'm also gonna pull up another part you said because honestly while I initially wanted Beast to be 100% quiet I'm a massive fan of this little scenario and so I'm adopting it into my worldview immediately;

So yeah Dark is like, completely on board with Beast's more odd traits, once it actually is able to relax for once. I'd say Beast is probably the one Dark knows the least just by way of it rarely ever fronting outside of the more dire circumstances. He knows enough from what he can piece together from his own memories of it, plus any resulting messages from Chosen and Killer depending on how much they know about it at that point in time. However, if asked personally and privately, Dark would express a bit of sympathy, maybe worry for Beast. He understands what it's like to be seen as a sort of... villainous person - not to the severity that Beast had been treated, but he can sympathize. And while he leans into it, he knows that it's the last thing Beast - or Chosen and Killer for that matter - would want for themselves. He sometimes wishes he could do more to help it, but often refrains from trying, knowing that any pushing could absolutely do more harm than good at this point, no matter how much he wants to try. It's a tricky situation, and it's a very unsteady trust they have, and he's not willing to rock the boat too hard and end up hurting the three. As I love to say about my favorite antagonist characters; he's a villain, not a monster, he's got standards lol

1.5: Assuming Dark DOESNT know Chosen is/ is apart of a system (still don't know the correct way to call it), how does he react to switches? Or Killer and Beast in general?

Switches, in general, are meant to be pretty covert of a thing. If all goes right, no one should be able to tell, at the very least not right away, that a switch occured. Thus, before Dark learned about everything, a few little things did tip him off as to something being a bit.. off with "Chosen." He'd notice a lot of forgetfulness of things that happened literally yesterday, or sudden preferences doing a complete 180 into something else, or, like you mentioned, complete silence all of a sudden. If it's a big enough and sudden enough change then he would definitely notice how odd it is and just kinda file it away for later, thinking "oh that was really strange, maybe I should ask about that?"

Yeah honestly all of this is pretty accurate to how that'd go down pre-knowing. Like I said Dark definitely hasn't interacted with very many people [if anyone at all] outside of Chosen and thus does think this is probably normal to a degree, but the first few times [more like a couple hundred times] it DOES kinda hurt a bit and cause some confusion before they can work something out for it.

2: ...I'm guessing Dark was also in this list yes? Beast was co-conscious during AVA3 if i remember correctly and so saw Dark was willing to help and defend. Even if Beast didn't trust them 100% it didn't think of them as a threat right? Maybe even considered him an ally

Oh yeah, for a while after it was able to let go of the constantly moving train of thought that consisted exclusively of just "protect" and "danger," it did for a long time consider Dark trustworthy enough to feel safe around and to relax, even if it was just the tiniest amount. It's almost always on guard, but... well, surely it can let Dark watch its back just this once, right? It was a sort of "well, you're not hurting me, and we are fighting the same guy, so......." sort of allyship at first. It probably definitely helped that for a long time between AVA3 and Showdown, Dark and Chosen probably had pretty relaxed lives outside of the whole tormening the internet thing. They probably didn't really do anything that'd warrent the feeling of danger in their free time, so on the days when Beast would be the one jolting awake at night, it'd be able to, slowly, calm down. Plus, with Dark being so open minded about things that help Beast instead of hurt it, and the way the other two seemed fine with him, it did begin to trust him.

2.5: And if yes, Dark was on the Trustworthy list, what about the virabot thing made Beast decide "Hmmm no he's an enemy actually"?

Oh god, the Virabots. Yeah that whole thing was a complete MESS for the three honestly. It was less the presence of the Virabots themselves and moreso the actions that Dark had made them do against Chosen specifically. Until then, Chosen was mostly cautious about them - he knew they could be dangerous, but at that point still believed he could talk Dark out of his plan. Along with this, Dark is kinda the worlds most emotionally constipated guy ever, and has ZERO skills in talking about his plans and feelings without requiring people to do a five page deconstructive essay to decipher what he means about it. To Chosen, the second that first Virabot ended up trying to actively kill him, was when the seed of doubt kinda bloomed. He was worried then, and had the idea that yes, Dark is still a killer, he is destructive, always has been, and is fully capable of hurting him - or worse, if he somehow got the upper hand. Chosen knows this fact very, very well. It was quite literally their first ever interaction.

But he still wanted to believe Dark wouldn't do that.

Until he got quite literally dogpiled, of course. I'd say the second Dark started actively sic'ing Virabots at him was the moment that Chosen pulled back and Beast shoved itself into front going "okay, this is serious, this is not the person we trusted, because our Dark wouldn't hurt us like this." It was vehement denial mixed with a sort of bitter "I told you so" feeling. It saw this coming, it let its guard down, it trusted someone, and now it was being attacked by something it could barely take on as one, nevermind tens, maybe hundreds. It was being attacked by Dark. So it had to fix that mistake and remove the threat at the same time, if that makes sense.

^ Literally 100% you read my mind anon this has totally happened before, especially more in the early years of the two living together. You described this really well actually, and the way you described Beast's stance - ready for combat AND read to flee at a moments notice - is exactly how I picture it;; it's always ready to fight back and lash out, but moreso in that cornered way where it's obvious it also sorta wants to book it after getting enough hits in to where it'll be confident that whatevers after it Isn't Moving Towards It anymore.

I really don't have much to add to that scenario because you are literally so correct I am shaking you by the shoulders [positive tone] this is SO REAL RAAGH. Yeah ^_^

Honest to god yeah that's probably exactly how he ended up knowing. I think like I mentioned earlier, it's kinda a case of a bunch of little things adding up before they eventually tell him any details that help with understanding, but before that Dark definitely has his suspicions and it's totally because of Killer 😭 Unfortunately bro is NOT very subtle if they're not putting their focus into masking /j

It'd probably be something small and inconsequential and silly, really. Something simultaniously dumb as hell but also a massive show of trust, y'know? I'd have to think more on the details but I like to think that as Killer gets more comfortable, and more sure that they don't have to pretend to be Chosen to still be safe, they let go of the masking little by little, with small things - maybe a preference in food or drink here and there, or small comments about interests that they know are much too distinct from anything Chosen ever expressed liking before. It feels more natural the more they do it, before they eventually forget to mask around Dark, because it feels more comfortable to them being themselves.

Oh yeah for sure. 5 minutes at least, paired with that sorta laughy halfhearted apology for laughing, followed by the occasional snort or huff or laugh every few minutes after that whenever Dark thinks about it for the rest of the day. Killer is not mad at the laughing but they are in fact waiting for the day they can do the same towards Dark ☝ every day they hope he trips stupidly [JOKE]

3: Who was fronting during The Box? You mentioned Chosen during Wanted, and I'm assuming its either him or Killer during the beginning of the box. But once they realise they're trapped? When Chosen turns to Victim in the episode? I can see that being Beast. I know shifts aren't always easy to spot but if Beast was going to come in at any time, it was when they realised they were trapped.

You're pretty correct here; for a lot of The Box, it's primarily Chosen, though Beast is definitely doing the metaphorical "hovering ominously in the back" thing thanks to the chase and injury sustained during Wanted. It's not quite reaching the "feeling like their life is in danger" levels at this point, but it's close and Chosen is feeling very dizzy, thanks.

You're also very correct in your assessment that realizing they're trapped is what, primarily, causes Beast to switch in; collectively, they have a VERY bad history with being trapped or imprisoned. Honestly I feel like they're actually pretty claustrophobic - I don't really see anyone mention this too much, but when Chosen got caught by the firewall in AVA2, he LITERALLY gets locked up inside a little box. It's probably cramped and dark and obviously unbreakable. That 100% left an impact on him - and in this HC, his system as a whole never really escaped that being a triggering thing.

To Beast, it feels very obviously trapped - cornered and contained much like it had been when it first formed. To it, this isn't a fight to JUST protect, but a fight to save their life. It feels genuinely like that, even if it wont die here, it'll just be imprisoned all over again, chained down and used for anothers gain. And it wants anything BUT that. It will fight tooth and nail - quite literally, might I add - to get out of there, because it believes that the second it gives up it is over for them. It has no idea what Victim wants from it -- and so it defaults to that Victim wants to fully and entirely kill them.

4: Speaking again of the box, when they realise that they are NOT beating Victim, does someone elbow Beast out of the way? To try and escape? Because fighting has proven entirely futile? Or is someone co-conning (I assume that means co-conscious) with it and convincing it to pull away, since in the original post, Vic was talking to Beast while 'Chosen' was tied up on the chair

[You're right, co-conning is short for co-conscious ^^]

Honestly probably yes? For a good while it's still fighting back, or at the very least sticking around to take the brunt of whatever Victim is throwing at them - being a protector doesn't only mean physically, it also means mentally. Sometimes things may not hurt someone on the outside, but could wreck them on the inside, and they need someone more equipped with dealing with these things - or, more crudely, Used To dealing with these things - to take over.

When it becomes apparent that Beast cant fight its way out of this, someone - though I haven't really settled on who - definitely tries to front to try other methods of escape. Maybe it's Chosen, maybe it's Killer, honestly realistically they wouldn't even be able to tell either under all that stress. There's definitely someone giving passive-influence to try and escape though. Beast is determined to intimidate Victim, and to keep the others from having to experience anything rough, but... it's a bit hard to stick around when everything in your body - externally, and internally - is screaming for you to get the hell out of there, in one way or another. In short it's having an awful time and unfortunately the others are there for the ride /j

5: Beast comes out when they're trapped or in a fight for their life, but does it (and the others) have any positive triggers that will draw them out? I've heard of music being used, or toys, maybe also food? Idk, but if you have something in mind for these three I'm curious what it is

Oh yeah positive triggers can definitely happen with systems! At the end of the day they do still trigger out an alter so it can still be pretty disorienting at first, so I will say it's mostly [at least and my and my friends cases irl] only used either when we are completely okay with it [both system-wise and alter-wise] or when whoever's in front is having a rough time and kinda needs a break, but doesn't exactly want to stress anyone else out via a negative trigger, if that makes sense.

However comma ! That does not mean I can't give positive triggers to my little guys here. Because I do think they deserve good things.

You're right in that things like music, toys, and even food are really common ones, at least in my experience and from what I've seen. Sometimes it can also be certain people! It really varies quite a bit, so when developing a headcanon that relates to that, there's quite a bit of wiggle room lol

I think it'd be slightly different for these three depending on who it is;

Chosen would probably have some related to music, and maybe a more niche one related to welding. Music because I feel like he's the type of guy to get comfort from listening to songs he loves on loop, and welding because he probably heard the sound a lot while Dark was working in his little workshop, either on the Virabots or on other such projects. [Sidenote, welding as a sound is something I'm actually pretty fond of myself, but if anyone's not a big fan of the sound of sparking, or repetative "buzzing", you probably won't like it if you look it up lol. It's not too loud on video, but I can see how it'd get annoying or give someone a headache.]

Killer is definitely the more food oriented one in all honesty. Maybe even specific books it's read? Certain meals that it enjoys are primarily it though - maybe things that it's made with Dark that it has a positive association with? Or things that it's tried once or twice, REALLY loved, and ended up always snagging front when they eat it because of that association. That kinda thing lol.

Beast is... kinda tricky to think of actual positives for? Not because it doesn't enjoy anything - honestly I think it's the type to enjoy slow and relaxing activities that it doesn't need to put a lot of thought into. Moreso because it's hard to pin down anything that would actively trigger it out just to experience. I am open to suggestions here! But for now I'll probably have to leave it at just, if it has any, it hasn't found out what they are yet </3

6: Can they feel the emotions of the other alters? I'm guessing they can feel the emotions of whoevers fronting, because physical sensations, but if someone was fronting and the other two were hovering over their shoulder so to speak, would they be able to tell how they feel?

Unrelated to this question but I had no idea emotions were a physical sensation that people felt until like, a few months ago, like it was just baffling to me it's kinda funny now that I think abotu it.

ANYWAYS; honestly I'd say yes, to some degree! Passive influence is pretty common in a few systems - you'll probably hear it talked about similiarly to how you asked about it, along with people saying something like, for example, they couldn't decide what to order from a restraunt, but someone else in the system wanted [this meal], and thus there was that passive influence to get it. Not sure if that makes sense but that's basically what that can feel like - and since it applies to things like opinions sometimes, it can also presumably apply to emotions!

It'd be less of a "they can feel each others exact thoughts and feelings about this thing if they're co-conning" thing, and more of a, for instance, "Chosen doesn't have any real strong feelings about the show they're watching, but Killer on the other hand really likes it, so Chosen feels a bit of that secondhand enjoyment and positivity towards it." Sorta an ambigious background feeling if that makes any sense. They do share a brain and body after all, so sometimes things do get passed and shared that way. [This one is super projecty based off my own stuff lol, I cannot count the amount of times someones ended up passively influencing me on accident when we were stuck co-conning. It's almost comical /j]

Okay I think that's all once more, I started writing this literally as soon as you sent these in and it's been nearly 2 hours so I've probably talked your ear off [talked your... eyes out? How does that phrase translate into text. Much to think about ...] but once again literally thank you so much for being so curious, and it's really not an issue that you've sent such long asks!!!

I adore talking about this headcanon a lot. I've said it before but this HC means a lot to me as a system; we don't get a lot of representation [nevermind good representation] so a lot of the times I like to try and find a character I feel it would fit the best, and then delve into it there. This HC is very very special to me and has a very special place in my heart, so seeing not only so many people accepting and positive about it, but also your own massive curiosity and engagement, really makes me happy!

Plus, ever since I posted this HC ages and ages ago in the community I've seen a ton more pop up every once and a while. It does make me pretty happy to see HCs like this be so widely accepted and appreciated. Along with that, I've also seen other systems in the fandom get super excited about this HC!!! And I'm just so so so happy that my silly little headcanon about sticks in this guys head can make other people feel more seen. I think it's the highest compliment to anything I've ever made. :]

[animeshotsh]

When I lost you | Young!Silco x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death - Reader is sick - Silco is still not a gang lord - Silco does not want Reader to try any drug - Italics = memories - ANGST - grammar mistakes -

When Silco was alone in his office, when he knew not even Jinx was around his mind liked to go back in time to see memories of a different time, so different that it almost seemed like these were dreams.

He remembers you well. Your face, your body, your eyes, they never once lied to him. You always showed him your true colors and motivations. You wanted a better place, a future, a good place for the next generation. Stop the undercity of being know as a place of crime.

You wanted so much.

"What's on your mind Sil?" You asked one hand under your chin as you studied him.

Once again Silco was thinking on how...how to improve lives, how could he and Vander make the undercity different?

"Nothing important" He had said "Just thinking on how you look today" He added smirking when you blushed at his words.

"Charming, I hope this does not mean you or Vande did something...because your sweet talking wont work on me"

"Doesnt always?" He asked pulling you on his lap making you laught. He smelled your hair and let out a content sound. He liked this, this moment. He wanted to stop time and be here forever.

The silence was broken by a heavy cought from you, one that made you have to stand up to breath the little air you could.

"Are you alright Love?" Silco asked getting closer making circles on your back as he saw how you nodded still breathing hard.

"Yeah, i may get a flu soon" You had dissmissed with a smile

Silco blamed himself. For how he have acted, faster or different, for not getting you out of the mines.

"(Y/N)..." Silco started seeing how you were having a hard time just walking the stairs, he had noticed how you also seemed to be slower, a side comment Vander had said on how you almost got caught on a recent work.

"Im fine" You responded back, trying to ignore the pain on your chest.

Once you two made it to the top you took a big long breath.

"You are not fine. I can see it, Vander can see it, everybody can see it" Silco said getting more frustrated by you

"Then all of them are wrong" You declared, letting yourself fall on your couch. Your eyes starting to close.

"You cant even stay awake"

"I have done much work in the mines. Im just tired"

"Then stop, I can help you, i can provide for you!!" Silco almost screamed

"You know I cant leave, what if i need the dam job later? No one will take me in. Every job out there is managed by them, i cant just leave"

"You are killing yourself"

Silco groaned at that, he wanted to go back and beat up his younger self. It was like his words had set off a curse.

Because less than a week from that talk you ended leaving the mines after collapsing and almost causing a fatal mistake.

Silco entered your home. He went to your room were he saw you reading a old book, pages yellow.

"I got you some medicine" Silco started getting it out from a bag well hided.

"Silco stop, these are too expensive!!" You said again even since he had started to get you different ones but no one seemed to work.

"Shut up, just try it" Silco said passing it to you who took it making a face.

"Its terrible"

"Well its not supposed to teast good, its supposed to cure you" Silco responded going to your kitchen to heat up some soup.

When he returned you were deep sleep. He hoped that medicine was doing the trick.

Saddly it did not.

Weeks passed and Silco saw how you became more and more weak. Pale like a ghost, eyes no longer shining but almost out of life.

"Im dying" you said to him one afternoon "Im dying and you cant do anything about it so stop beating yourself"

Even now Silco felt like your words reached him.

"No, i cant let you die" Silco said hands rubbing his hair

"Uh, i can try that thing they are selling now..."

"No" Silco had say "Next thing we need is you getting addicted"

You rolled your eyes but did agree.

The soft rain from outside was like odd music, for a couple that was seeing its end.

"I love you" You said taking his hand "Im happy i got to live my life with you"

If Silco had know these were going to be your last words he would have given you a better response. More than "I love you" and more than false promises.

He had become what you asked him not to, and while he was making on his own way a better life for the city a part of him hated himself. Hated that he had somehow betrayed you.

"Im sorry" He whispered to no one. "Im so sorry (Y/N).

[yanderefarm]

yandere vampire's pet

cw;; dehumanization?, blood, vampires, humans as pets, yandere, angst, suggestive

this is the last named and drawn oc i have ready. i still have two more concepts in my drafts but they're not finished yet.

this might not show his yandere tendencies as well as characters like ares or emil but he's more of a self destructive type. he's more likely to hurt himself for doing something wrong than he is likely to hurt someone for touching you.

also i had to include the vampire guilt and angst im only human (human with a guilt kink)

you're a vampire lord in a world run by vampires with a yandere human pet who you found in a run down human farm after he basically threw himself at you. who clung to your leg and insisted he tasted so sweet you wouldn't regret taking in. who you took pity on seeing his scarred neck and decided to take him with you home.

you fed him and brought him to full health in a year. on the anniversary he begged on his knees for you to make him your pet. you complied. you didn't expect the preservation procedure that would allow him to stay with you forever to mess up his brain. or maybe this was always his personality.

he begged you every day to feed on him. he would sneak into your bed chamber and cut his neck to wake you up. he would sit himself in your lap around noon and undo his shirt buttons to give you easy access. if you dared to refuse him he would cry and beg so pathetically.

you made him this way why didn't you want him? he would often cry until you feel guilty for destroying his humanity. you always gave into him. he always got clingier. he tried not to get in your way during work but one day you let him lay his head on your lap and sit in your office quietly all day. so you had to let him again the next day.

if he really pushed too far you would lock him in an old attic room. oh how he sobbed. you would open the door the next day to be met with his bloodshot eyes that held no light. he would kiss your shoes and cling to your legs while he spoke hoarse apologies. you always forgave him and carried him in your arms to eat breakfast.

on the occasions that you two went to a party held by your fellow vampire lords he would always try to show off. you'd buy him new clothes and a new ribbon to hide his old scars. he liked being the most beautiful arm candy for you. it wasn't unusual for high quality pets to get passed around at these parties. at the end of the night he would often find himself in a strange bed, dizzy from being bled and pathetically crying for you.

your dear pet had spent the whole night being ravaged while you were doing business. his naked and used body laying in the unfamiliar bed, barely conscious. you sighed as you sunk onto the bed, your added weight causing him to shift slightly but he made no noise. usually by now he would be sobbing and reaching wildly for you, those degenerates must have really worked him hard.

you reached out and played with a piece of his hair. "I'm sorry, you poor pathetic creature."

your cold lifeless hands gently brush against his warm cheek. his body finally shifts a little, instinctively pulling away from the cold. you can't help the sad smile that falls on your lips seeing that. you forget how cold you are with how he clings to you at every opportunity. you can smell his blood right now and the tug of your instincts tells you to feed. you forget that you're a monster with how he treats you with such adoration and reverence.

"your life would have been better if you never met me." you push his hair away from his neck, revealing the old scars with fresh wounds scattered among them. your fingers brush against his pulse and he gasps.

you watch his olive eyes blink open slowly, they look almost too heavy to open. you want to gently close them like one would a corpse but the wide smile that spreads across his face stops you. if your heart could still beat you're sure it would have skipped.

"good morning." you said softly.

he used all his remaining strength to wrap around your waist. "y/n..."

his voice is so hoarse and he sounds so exhausted but there's the undeniable happiness. you guide his head to your lap, cold fingers twirling around his hair again.

"was i good...?" his eyes blinked slow again.

"yes. you were so amazing again tonight." you felt the weight of guilt pressing against your chest.

"reward m'...~" you knew he was asking you to indulge in him as so many others had tonight so you just ignored him.

you gently gathered him up in your arms, the top sheet draping over his body. you grabbed his discarded ribbon off the bed before you began carrying him out. the ribbon was sat on his stomach and his weak hands fiddled with it idly. he seemed to be too deep in thought to let sleep overtake him again.

"master... 'm glad you made me...." he nuzzled his head against your chest.

"your father made you." you corrected as you approached your carriage.

"no... y'... made m' y'r pathetic creature." his eyes finally started to close. "so glad m' life is master's.."

[inkedinshadows]

For the requests: "I would certainly take all night" with Eris, please. I would be forever indebted to you. Can be smut or not, write it however you want! :)

Held in Firelight

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

A/N: Hi! No need to be indebted, don't worry! I just hope you'll like this bc I really liked this idea but I wrote it after six hours of class so it might not be my best work. I also don't know how to label it because it's a bit fluffy with a tiny sprinkle of angst and allusions to smutty bits? Idk idk I really like it tho

Warnings: arranged marriage, cheating (but the parties involved are aware so idk)

Word count: 1k

“I think he has a new lover.”

Your words cut through the comfortable silence that had settled over the sitting room. Eris raised a brow, but you continued to stir the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the swirling red liquid.

The silence stretched, broken only by the crackling embers in the fireplace. Eventually, he asked, “What makes you think that?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “He spent every night out this week. He doesn't do that if he's just sleeping around. He still comes home.”

Eris hummed, as if contemplating your answer.

These were your favorite moments—when Eris didn’t have court duties to attend to and could spend hours talking and drinking with you. It was your favorite way to ease the stress and tension of the life you had been forced into.

“He was out even two nights ago?”

You looked up at him. The firelight flickered on the side of his face, turning his hair into molten copper. You felt a sudden urge to reach across the couch and run your fingers through it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“It was your birthday,” he stated simply.

“So?”

He looked startled. “You really don’t care that he forgot?”

You sighed, setting your glass down. “Eris, he hasn't remembered my birthday in years.”

He didn’t reply, but his jaw clenched. You couldn’t tell if the flames in his eyes were just a reflection of the fire or if it was that simmering power of his.

With another sigh, you pressed on. “Let’s say he remembers,” you said. “Then what? You really believe he would spend the whole night with me, taking his sweet time to make me feel cherished, at least on my birthday?” You shook your head, the mere thought making you scoff. “No, I prefer it this way. He doesn't care about me, I don't care about him, and there's no point in pretending we do.”

Eris remained silent, his gaze fixed on the fireplace, his fingers clutching the stem of his glass so tightly you thought it might break. You knew he cared about you, that he hated your situation as much as you did, but even he couldn’t change it. Maybe once he became High Lord he’d banish arranged marriages and spare others from this fate, but it was too late for you.

Picking up your glass again, you tucked your legs beneath you and settled back against the pillows. You took a sip of wine, hoping that its rich taste might offer an excuse to change the topic, but you came up empty. You’d already commented on the flavor when he opened the bottle.

“I would certainly take all night.”

His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful, but when you turned to look at him, he was still facing away from you.

“What?” you blurted out. Surely, you had heard that wrong.

Finally, his eyes met yours, determined and unflinching. “I would take all night with you,” he repeated, “I would cherish you. And not just on your birthday.”

Your breath hitched. There had been a few lingering touches, a brush of fingers, words whispered after one too many glasses of wine. But never like this—so plain and blatant, so unguarded.

“Don't say that,” you murmured.

“Why not?” His eyes bore into you, pinning you in place. There was no escape—not that you wanted one. “We both want it.”

He was right. There was no arguing with that. Yet you still shook your head. “Eris, we can't.”

He moved closer. You didn’t resist when he took your glass and set it on the small table alongside his. An empty bottle stood next to an unopened one.

“Why not?” he asked again, his voice gentler now. “Just because you’re married? How many other females has he been with?”

Countless.

Maybe Eris was right about that too. Maybe you didn’t owe loyalty to a husband you had never wanted—a husband who had never been loyal to you. If he could have all the females he wanted, then maybe you could have the one male you wanted. The one person who always understood you, who never judged or mistreated you.

“When was the last time someone made you feel cherished?” Eris’s hand covered yours, his slender fingers intertwining with your own, squeezing once. “Made you feel good?”

You had never thought about your marriage in those terms. You had never wanted that union in the first place, so you had clung to the small things. Time away from your husband was good. You hadn’t shared a bed in a long time, and your conversations were awkward and stiff enough that the thought of intimacy hadn't crossed your mind in years. And you’d told yourself that was good enough.

But deep down, it had never really felt good.

Eris was still looking at you, his expression soft and understanding. As if he could see your every thought.

You looked away, unable to stomach it. “I don't know,” you finally whispered.

“Let me be that person.” He reached out, gently tilting your chin. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your eyes met again, and your resolve wavered. Then he brushed his thumb over your lips and spoke in a barely audible whisper.

“Let me love you.”

That word.

Love.

Your husband had never uttered it to you, nor had you to him. But hearing it from Eris… you knew he didn't mean just now—a stolen moment to carry in your heart. And that realization was the final push you needed.

You didn't know who moved first. One moment you were staring into each other's eyes. The next, your lips met.

He tasted like a wish come true after years of waiting.

You were done longing and yearning in secret, done pretending you didn't know what you truly wanted.

And as Eris loved you in front of the fireplace, you finally felt good. You felt cherished. And he took all night to make sure of it.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Epilogue

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: This is the end 😭

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

SIX YEARS LATER

While the others were busy dragging themselves out of bed in time to the Day Court’s breathings, you and Azriel were already wide awake and watching as the sun trickled down the windows and onto the floor. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. Have I changed your mind at all? 

Your mate smiled at the sound of your voice in his mind. He almost preferred it to speaking out loud where curious ears might be listening. Cassian loved to tease you about it endlessly. 

“You’re worse than Feyre and Rhys,” He would lament, “Will we ever hear your voices again?” 

Hmmmmmmmm. Azriel considered your question. I’m afraid not, my love. I shall remain a creature of the night forever, no matter if I am married and mated to you.

You wake up earlier than me most mornings. 

Just because it’s true doesn’t mean I enjoy it. 

You blew against his hair playfully and laughed when his shadows were whisked away like leaves in the wind. 

“My Lord.” The attendant curtsied. Her cream-colored robes kissed the floor as she carried your dress in her arms. Her cheeks were rosy with excitement. Eyes glittering with joy.

There were three others behind her. One male carried Azriel’s crowning suit and the two females held boxes made from pearl and gold. 

“I hope you’ve slept well. We’ve come to prepare you and Lady Y/n for today’s events. If you would so kindly follow Arryn.” 

The male bowed low in introduction, and it took all his court training to keep him from jumping back when Azriel’s shadows crawled over his shoes in curiosity. 

Azriel looked back to where you sat in front of the vanity brushing the tangles from your freshly washed hair. One small shake of your head was all he needed to see before turning to the attendants. 

“I’m afraid your services won’t be necessary,” Azriel said apologetically.

Her joyful eyes fell. She had been looking forward to helping you dress. It wasn’t every day that a Court could enjoy a formal crowning ceremony, and even rarer that a High Lord should claim his heirs with so much love. 

She didn’t protest when shadows came to carry your clothes inside, but one of the other attendants did perk up with concern to mention, “But Our Lady’s hair! Surely she will need some assistance.” She looked on hopefully, clutching her pearl box a little closer to her chest.

Azriel smiled kindly. “I’ll send for help if needed. I promise.” 

With the hope of that promise lingering in the air, the attendants bowed and departed, taking slow steps in case either you or your mate should change your minds at the last second. They were severely disappointed when you didn’t. 

Perhaps we should have let them stay. You said. Azriel carefully laid out the boxes of jewels and gold, each piece shining with the light of a hundred suns. They looked so excited. 

Azriel pressed his thumb beneath your chin, fingers ghosting over your throat as he tilted your neck back to look at him. Hazel eyes flashed in the early morning sunlight and his lips were warm against yours, sweet like honey and bergamot. 

Perhaps. Azriel hummed. But today, I want the honor of attending the Darling of Day. 

Is that what people are calling me?

I’ve heard rumors. He brushed his lips against your neck. And I have it on good authority that the rumors are true.

Shadows curled in answer to your raised eyebrow.

And attend to you he did. He braided your hair, securing the front pieces away from your face with pins made of starlight and sunbeams. His heart stuttered when he imagined how radiant you would look after your father laid a circlet of gold over your brow.

He laced up your dress, spreading kisses along the back of your neck and sending shivers down your spine. Then he knelt to the floor to clasp your white silk shoes. The drag of his fingers up your calf had you smiling as he tied the final bow.

Another time, my love. You told him, pulling Azriel up with the daintiest grip on his chin. 

He pressed a kiss to your palm and the corners of his lips pulled up in a smile. What a shame. He nipped at your fingers. I’ll hold you to that promise. 

I would expect nothing less. 

Azriel was quick to pull on his Day Court attire and refused to let you take your time with him the way he had done for you. 

You snatched the Day Court pin from the vanity before Azriel could—a circular sunbeam with a sword, pen, and iris stalk crossed in the center.

Let me do this! Just this!

Your stubbornness showed when you climbed onto the bed and did your best to hold the pin out of reach. 

I’m not about to be crowned an heir. He reminded you, holding onto your waist protectively.

But you will be beside me when it happens. You must look presentable. 

Don’t I always, my love?

Careful. You’re beginning to sound like Rhysand. 

He lifted you up and off the bed with ease. Carefully, reverently, you pinned the gold piece to his coat. Just above his heart. 

He liked to pretend things like this didn’t affect him, but he was grinning like a fool as he finished buttoning the sleeves of his coat. Black velvet lined with gold and silver cut out his strong silhouette. And after little persuasion, he let you crawl into his lap and paint the corners of his eyes with gold and black. 

“Y/n!” Elain called your name from down the hall. Pale gold sleeves bubbled off her shoulders, light and airy as she hugged you close. “Oh you look lovely.” 

“As do you. Not that that’s anything new.” 

She brightened faster than a flower in spring. Lucien wrapped his arm tightly around Elain’s waist, ring flashing on his finger. 

“We thought you’d never arrive.” Lucien said. Folds of pale-golden fabric lay draped across his chest. A pattern of Spring and Autumn leaves trailed along the selvage. “Were you preoccupied?” 

“Oh hush.” You slapped your brother’s arm. 

You and Azriel were the darker mirrors of Elain and Lucien as you lined up beside one another behind the gilded doors. On the other side were hundreds of the Day Court’s most prestigious families, scholars, and courtiers, and the odd High Lord or two. 

Helion’s voice cut through the chatter, laughter ringing through every word.

“Are you ready?” Lucien asked from your left. You took your brother’s arm, some of Azriel’s shadows winding down your hand like jewels. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be. And you?”

“I am. I’m ready.” He squared his shoulders back. This was it. For the first time in decades, he would be a recognized member of his family — his true family. He would wander no more. “Thank you, Y/n. For everything.” 

The trumpets began to blare. The crowd’s talk dimmed to a low, excited murmur. Years ago, the sound of so many people would have sent shivers crawling down your spine like spider legs. 

No more.

Azriel slipped his hand into yours and squeezed once, twice, before the doors opened and the crowd burst apart like fireworks at the sight of the new heirs of Day.

The crown did not lay heavy against Lucien’s brow as he charmed courtiers with an energy that had everyone wondering how they could have missed the truth about Helion’s son. He was everything a High Lord’s son should be—polite, kind, and charming to an almost lethal degree. He took after his father in his mannerisms… mannerisms Helion had been stripped of the moment Aurora Vanserra walked into the room on her eldest son’s arm. 

You shot Lucien a look, and a look was all he needed before he was steering Helion towards the scarlet-crowned pair. 

“Lucien!” Helion pulled back in alarm. 

“Shhhhhh.” 

“Y/n—” Your father looked to you for aid, eyes wider than a deer at the wrong end of an arrow. 

You and Azriel waved him goodbye.

Helion’s stomach was a lead weight dragging behind him as he crossed the marble dance floor. 

Aurora Vanserra flickered like candlelight behind a window. Something for Helion to gaze upon but never touch. Something to love from a safe distance so he could never snuff out that previous light. 

Red hair cascaded down her back in braids laced with gold and emeralds. When she turned around and looked upon the face of her lover, Helion felt a familiar fist around his heart squeeze a little tighter. Mercifully, she looked just as flustered to see him. Although she looked a great deal more graceful when hiding her emotions. She’d always been good at that. 

“Helion.” His name was a breath from her lungs. 

“Aurora. Hi.” 

Helion had hoped the years might fall away. That the walls they’d both placed around themselves as protection might shatter at the gentlest tapping of his fingers. Alas, time was more stubborn than that and it would not break. But that did not mean it would not bend. 

You, Lucien, and Eris both watched carefully from your corners of the room as Helion quietly took Aurora out onto the balcony for some peace and quiet. 

Lucien worried that he’d made a grave error. Some miscalculation of hope. But then he saw his mother smile — the first true smile he’d seen in years — and suddenly the weight around his shoulders seemed to shrink. 

Helion and Aurora Vanserra stayed on the balcony all night, hands dancing closer and closer together but never quite touching. Lucien and Elain made their rounds through the crowds, feeling at ease at each other’s sides as they kissed cheeks and sprinkled hope throughout the Day Court.

And there, tucked away into the little alcove just left of the quartet’s humble stage, stood a Shadowsinger and Inkbird resplendent in black and gold. Heads bowed together. Hands touching. And smiles on their lips as they spoke without a whisper of sound between them. 

<- Previous Chapter

______________

Author's Note:

WE ARE DONNEEEEEE!!!! Don't mind me while I go cry in the corner now. Final word count was over 130K which is the most intensive writing project I've ever worked on AND COMPLETED!

I truly cannot thank you all enough for reading this story. Whether you were there from its very beginnings in December of 2023 or whether you stumbled upon this story more recently and got to binge read it all at once, I want to thank the writing/reading community for inspiring me to continue. There were multiple instances where I had to take short and long writing breaks and worried I had lost my passion, but seeing your comments and inbox messages or even seeing your little handles pop up in my activities section was a little extra gas poured into my tank so I could keep on going.

I think I'm going to take a little bit of time off (but this time it's planned lol) to get back into reading and to work on other writing projects (and also finally upload stuff to AO3 like I've been meaning to for the past month). So, I will be back soon with more writing stuff (but also don't worry I am always lurking on this app in some way shape or form).

Thank you all once again! Now that this is finished, I would appreciate reblogs so people know it's finished and ready to read, but also no pressure at all! 😊

Love,

Florence Byrne

[lucifersyume]

Pride’s bite

Based off a prompt I saw on here; Lucifer is a vampire lord—and MC is a vampire hunter whom Lucifer took in during a storm without realising they are a hunter. His coven knows—Lucifer is unaware. MC knows who Lucifer is, however.

warnings: Lucifer is clueless, suggestive scene (just making out), GN!MC, possessiveness, Lucifer is down bad, he wants to bite you, slight exhibitionism, his coven hate you, mentions of fainting early on

notes: Gets rather rushed toward the end, sorry!! T-T

Rythmic thumping of frantic footfalls, the cruel sounding whispering of the rustling trees, the shrill screech of birds all reverberating harshly through the dimly lit forest. Running through was the esteemed vampire hunter—you. Whilst out on your latest escapade, you appeared to have run into some trouble, and had encountered an especially aggressive group of vampires. While all were known to be murderous, ruthless creatures—the poor human had seemingly drawn the short straw, this group in particular were notorious for sparing nobody, not even young children who stumbled onto their territory.

Your chest burnt with exhaustion; it seemed as if you had been running forever. It never seemed to end, you’d been meandering through trees forever. It seemed as if there was no escape! Was this truly how you were to go out? It was supposed to be more glamorous, not having your entrails gruesomely torn out by undead bloodsuckers. Loud, murderous hisses, manical laughter reached your ears, merged with their relentless torment, saying you’re not making it back alive.

Running was futile at this point, you knew that better than anyone. Everyone who was anyone knew that. This bunch were practically inescapable. If they wanted you dead? You’re dead.

Well. Not everyone had a secret admirer like you. Not everyone had someone who was willing to murder to ensure your complete safety. Like today.

The taunts were cut short, followed by screams of confusion and horror.

“The boss is down!!” A raspy male’s voice resounded. It sorta sounded like he was a chronic smoker and was just one more cigarette away from death. Then, uproar—demands knowing who, or what caused their leader to fall comes forward.

Well, you wouldn’t be awake to see, the exhaustion of running at such a high speed for such a long period of time is certain to exhaust such a small human.

Your knees felt weak, trembling, your whole body covered in a thin sheen of sweat—muscles aching and throbbing with exhaustion. Before you knew it, your vision blurred, black spots clouding it, your surroundings spinning, everything merging together causing your stomach to feel heavy with nausea until eventually, your body went limp, and you collapsed on the marshy forest floor.

“MC.. Wake up..” A voice cut through your slumber, warm leather tracing your face, caressing the shape of your jawline. That voice, you recognise it. The deep, soft, yet seductive tone, the unfamiliarity of you, the worry.

“Open your eyes for me, MC.”

Opening your eyes, the blurry surroundings eventually came too—you were seemingly in some kind of bedroom, the walls were covered with old paintings, photographs from centuries old newspaper articles, but what really caught your eye was him. Staring at you with a concerned look.

“Finally, I thought I’d lost you,” he breathed—relief and joy lacing his words as he looked directly into your eyes, the slightest of smiling brooking his lips, replacing that usual frowning expression people often described after encounters.

There’s no way it isn’t him, it has to be. Lucifer Morningstar. One of the most notorious, feared vampire lords. A man known for his brutal nature, sparing almost no mortal, his mock-sweet words,his ability to easily charm others. You were convinced—his piercing, almost menacing black eyes and that soft red gradient within their depths, a slight hint that he is not a man to trust, but nor is he a man to cross.

If there was anything you had learned about Lucifer from your father; never ever upset him. The fact that warning was the one your father hammered into you with such urgency told you to always remember it.

“Can you speak?” Lucifer’s voice sounded—cutting your train of thoughts short. Ah, right. You’d best address him.

“Yes, I can. Thank you. But how did I get here?”

“I carried you, of course. I noticed that savage lot were surrounding you, and you were simply too adorable to let die. So naturally, I drove them away, and bought you right to my manor. For some reason unknown to me, my coven were giving me extremely odd glances, and they were staring at you like you were filth, why might that be?”

His words caused your breathing to falter and your heart race. Did he truly not know of you? Surely his coven would have stopped him from taking you in?

“I simply waved them away, they looked almost.. murderous. But, since you are under my protection, they dare not harm you, fret not, little lamb.”

Now, while your father said not to trust, or upset him; he was protecting you, why shouldn’t you trust him? After all, it was the upsetting him part your father warned you of more, if he was treating you well, you can surely let your guard down.

Noticing the tenseness in your body, Lucifer chuckles, placing a gloved hand on your arm. “Apologies if my words regarding my coven startled you. I assure you; they will not even look at you wrong while I’m here.” His tone was kind and reassuring. That sweet smile almost never leaving his lips. “Come, you must be famished. You look like you haven’t eaten all day.”

Reaching out a hand, and patiently waiting for you to take it. “Worry not, I won’t kill you, MC.” He teases with a laugh. It seems his words were comforting enough to soothe you, because you find yourself interweaving your fingers with his own, much to Lucifer’s surprise—but he wasn’t complaining. Not at all!

He helped you up, gently leading you through the long, winding halls; littered with skeletons in rather crude positions, or holding pillars of the house, large plush curtains, in all variations of black, wine red and royal purples. The floor covered in soft, almost inviting carpet seemingly leading the way around. Portraits of all sort littered the walls: blackbirds, cathedrals, coffins, bats, moonlit skies, the rain on a nighttime street, reflecting the faces of happy couples, neon signs, and of course, the early, classical illustrations of what people of that time believed vampires would look like. Perhaps Lucifer included those for humourous flair. Vines wound through, hugging the banisters and multiple pillars.

“Curious on anything?” Lucifer asked, looking down at you as he continued to walk beside you. “You seem to be taking in the decor quite considerably. Anything in particular catch your eye?”

Shaking your head, you respond. “No, just looking around, never been here—so I just wanna see the surroundings.”

“I see, and absolutely nothing is of interest to you? My, my. You must be terribly picky of nothing in here is of your interest.” He teases, before coming to a stop infront of a large, wooden door. “Here we are. Would you like any particular dish? I assure you, you need not be afraid to ask, my staff would be happy to cook for you, alright?”

Nodding, you follow him in, and introduces you to some members of his coven, who were eyeing you suspiciously, only to be immediately shut down by Lucifer who shot them a glare. If looks could kill; that would certainly be one of them. “Come, MC. Tell them what you would want to eat.” He said with a smile playing on his face.

His coven members look at you, waiting for your request, and nod when you say what you’d like, wasting no time in beginning to prepare it, walking to the pantry to get all the necessary ingredients. This pleased Lucifer greatly, and he lead you to the table, pulling a chair out for you to sit on. When you were sat and your seat was pushed in, he took his place opposite you, placing his chin in his palm, gazing at you with interest.

“You know, you’re utterly radiant,” Lucifer admitted with a gentle sigh, feeling slightly embarrassed over his openness. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I feel so drawn in by you, like there is some sort of connection between us, drawing me ever closer to you. Ever since you have been in my care, I have felt rather uneasy when I am not in your reach.”

The raw, unfiltered honesty almost stunned you. It was highly evident that his words were the truth, you picked up on the vulnerability that his tone contained, the usual composed man gone. This was different. This was what he truly meant.

A sharp sigh of annoyance and disbelief left his lips. “Wait.. What am I saying? This isn’t like me at all. Why is my heart racing? And why do I feel so desperate to rest my lips on yours??”

Taken aback by his revelation, your mouth fell slightly open. Desperate, Lucifer stood up, and cupped your face, gazing into your eyes, many emotions contained within: desperation, yearning, fear, love. His lips were slightly parted—allowing you to see the slightest bit of his large fangs; the sight sending shivers down your spine. If it was of fear or arousal, or something else entirely—you were not able to tell.

“Please, allow me to kiss you,” Lucifer whispered, his tone practically begging, no. Pleading. He was gazing at you like you were the light he needs in this dark world. “Please. But, do not feel pressured into saying yes.”

Shocked by his words, you find yourself nodding. Deep down, you had always found him attractive and also intriguing. Sighing in pure relief and joy, Lucifer leaned in and closed the gap, pressing his lips on yours in a shockingly romantic, yet sensual kiss.

To begin with, it was sweet, gentle—like a whisper shared between lovers. It was evident that Lucifer was savoring the moment, letting it linger before giving in completely. His hands moved from your face to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss with a newfound desperation.

As it continued, one hand left your waist, trailing fire down your spine, teasing over your thigh, your neck—everywhere he could touch, testing your reaction. The heat between you grew unbearable, his fingertips branding every inch of skin they grazed before returning to your waist, tugging you flush against him—leaving no space, no escape. He let out a ragged breath of desperation against your lips, followed by a hoarse whisper: “You haven’t a clue how long I have been yearning for this.”

Judging by the raw passion in his every touch, it was clear—Lucifer was fucking desperate for you. He kissed you like he was terrified you’d disappear, his arms tightening around you as if he could anchor you to him forever. Each lingering touch was a silent confession, a reminder of just how much he needed you. Just how much he wanted you.

Breaking away for a moment, Lucifer gazed into your eyes, his breath slightly uneven. “You’re amazing. A miracle gifted to me.” His voice was thick with love, admiration, something deeper.

Then, he dove back in—teasing your top lip, then your bottom, dragging out the anticipation before finally capturing you in a crushing, heated kiss. His movements were desperate, needy, almost. His desire was laid bare, past the point of restraint, past the point of pride. And he didn’t care. He wanted you to know.

Desperation all-consuming, he pulled you onto his lap, ensuring the kiss never broke. One hand tilted your chin, deepening the kiss, while the other tangled in your hair, giving a teasing tug. He chuckled softly at the soft noise of surprise you let out—a sound that vibrated deliciously against his lips.

He groaned into your mouth, like he was drowning in you, like he was utterly starved. When he finally broke away, it was only to trail his lips down your jaw, lower still—the tantalizing contrast of soft lips and sharp fangs sending a shudder down your spine. His breath came ragged, hot, needy, craving.

It seemed the proximity between your bodies shattered his restraint. Words he never imagined uttering slipped from his lips in a hushed murmur against your skin.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” Lucifer gasped quietly, his fingers tightening at your hips, as if terrified you might pull away. “Wait, wait… I don’t want to stop here. Not yet.”

Slowly, his hands moved to your tie, undoing it with practiced ease, leaving it loose around your neck before deftly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt. The cold leather of his gloves traced over your chest, sending a delicious contrast of sensation through you. But just as his fingers lingered—

He stopped.

And then he smirked.

“No… Know what?” Lucifer leaned back in his chair, eyes dark with amusement. “Seeing as you made me wait so long… what harm is there in returning the favor?”

No. You were not playing this game. If he can tease you and believe he can get away? He’s wrong. Formulating the perfect idea—you gaze at him.

“Returning the favour? I didn’t realise demons were so.. generous.” You mused, tilting your head. “I didn’t realise you were so.. weak.. when things get a bit heated, Lucifer.”

Your statement made a small smirk creep onto his lips. “I assure you. I am not weak to tension.” He laughed, maintaining the tension-filled eye contact you had begun, waiting for you to break first. But you refused. Gently, you rolled your hips more into his, eliciting a little gasp from his lips.

“Ah, fuck, MC,” he growls, gripping your hips, dragging you further up his lap, gazing at you. “Are you truly so unaffected? Well, allow me to see how you fare when we do just what I am so very desperately yearning for..”

He grabbed you, dragging you into another kiss—kissing you like a man starved, hands roaming every inch of you, not sparing those spots that made you squirm. He refused to break and back down, no. He was going to make you cave first. No matter what.

Lucifer raises a brow as you undo his buttons, watching as you lean in.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me, Lucifer.”

Well that? That does it. He picks you up and stands you up, staring deep into your eyes. “Well, what do you say that this chat moves into my private quarters, and I can show you just how truly irresistible I find you, hm?”

He had barely let the sentence register before dragging you off his lap—picking you up in his arms, lips battering your face and neck. soft, possessive murmured promises of what was to come leave his lips:

“I’m going to take my time with you. Savouring every perfect inch of you slowly.”

It was almost as if he was toying with you, messing with you. Trying to get you as riled up as possible. he was done waiting. He wasn’t waiting anymore.

Once inside, he was behind you, “Now.”

He smiled, stalking toward you slowly, his eyes heavy with lust and want.

“I do hope you’re prepared for what is to come, because you are not escaping me. Not anymore.”

[mingi-s-dimples]

Blood Oath - Seonghwa

"you taste... you taste like sin."

bonus scene ~ bathed in desire

pairing: vampire seonghwa x divine entity fem!reader

genre: 18+, vampire au, filth

summary: After centuries of pursuit, you finally surrender to the Lord himself. In the dark of his embrace, he swears an oath—eternal love, eternal possession.

wc: 5.7k

warnings: vampire lord!seonghwa, divine entity!reader, power play, possessiveness, light obsession (he wants the reader forever and has been persistent with winning her over), heavy making out, neck kissing, neck biting, choking, vampire fangs (idk if it can be a warning but), vampire bites, blood sucking, looots of marking, praising & body worshipping, oral sex (both f and m), he ests her out, dacryphilia, biting, size kink, huge dick!seonghwa (he was a vampire after all), overstimulation, missionary, bending over, hiar pulling, deep throating, bloodplay (he fucks her while drinking her blood), manhandling, some aftercare, no hongjoong was not peeking he came in the room after quite some time, completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unprotected (boo use protection irl!!!), might edit later.

Author's Note: I ain't even going to hide it anymore. Has anyone thought of the fact that writers always add the bath scene in the end.. but not a lot of them actually detail what happens in that moment of aftercare or if it's actually aftercare..? No more waiting!!! I wrote a bonus scene of Seonghwa and the reader spending some sweet steamy time in the tub, and it's steaming hot. 😋 I can't wait to post it. I love vampires oml.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The castle stood silent beneath the weight of the midnight hour, the heavy air thick with something unspoken. The towering chamber, adorned with black marble and flickering candelabras, felt like a prison, trapping the tension that crackled between you and him.

Lord Seonghwa.

A name that struck terror into men, that sent entire kingdoms to their knees. A name synonymous with power, desire, and ruin.

And yet—You were the only one who had ever defied him.

You stood before him now, bathed in silver moonlight, your arms crossed, an amused smirk tugging at your lips as he stared at you—his crimson eyes dark, predatory.

"You’re staring again, Seonghwa," you murmured, voice laced with amusement. "Careful, someone might think you’re desperate."

His jaw clenched so hard you swore you heard it crack.

"You think this is a game?" His voice was lower now, rougher. Darker.

You took a single step closer, just enough to let your perfume slip into his senses, just enough to let the warmth of your body make him ache. "I know it is."

He inhaled sharply, his fists clenching at his sides.

You had been tormenting him for months—years, if he were being honest. Every look you gave him, every soft breath, every time you allowed him close but never close enough—you were his downfall, his undoing.

"Say it," he rasped.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. "Say what, vampire?"

He was in front of you before you could blink. His cold hands seized your waist, pulling you, your body flush against his. His breath was ragged, his control razor-thin.

"Say that you want me," he commanded, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Say that you burn for me the way I burn for you."

You exhaled a soft, teasing breath, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns of his black silk shirt. "Why would I lie?"

His grip tightened, his fingers digging in as a growl vibrated through his chest.

"You cruel thing," he muttered. "You love this, don’t you?"

Your fingers trailed lower, barely grazing his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

"You make it too easy, my lord."

His fangs lengthened at your words. He ached for you. His entire being was consumed by the thought of having you—owning you, marking you, ruining you.

"You don’t know what you’re doing to me," he gritted out, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath shuddering as his hands traveled lower.

"Oh, I know," you whispered, letting your lips ghost over his. "I know exactly how much you want me."

A sharp, broken sound left his lips. He was at his limit.

"You enjoy seeing me like this?" His voice was wrecked, a raw, dangerous whisper. "You like knowing you’re the only one who has ever made me beg?"

Your smirk deepened, and you slowly, deliberately tilted your head, baring the delicate column of your throat to him.

"You’re a vampire, Seonghwa," you murmured. "Starvation is part of the curse, isn’t it?

His control snapped.

In a single, fluid motion, he had you pinned against the grand canopy bed, his body caging yours in. His lips crashed into your throat, kissing, tasting, devouring.

"You are cruel," he groaned against your skin, his fingers sliding up your thigh, gripping hard. "Do you know what you do to me?"

You gasped softly as his fangs scraped over your pulse, a warning—a promise.

"Then take what you want," you breathed, arching slightly against him.

Seonghwa froze. You felt his breath stutter, his hands trembling where they held you.

Slowly, he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His crimson eyes were blown wide with hunger, his lips parted, his entire body shaking with restraint.

"Say it again," he whispered, his voice so desperate it sent a shiver down your spine.

You dragged your fingers into his raven-black hair, tugging him closer.

"Take what you want, vampire lord."

A sharp, guttural growl ripped from his throat.And then— His fangs pierced your skin.

A sharp gasp left your lips as molten heat surged through your veins. Your hands tightened in his hair again as his mouth latched onto your throat, drinking you in, consuming you.

A moan rumbled deep in his chest, his grip on you bruising as he finally— finally— tasted the one thing he had longed for.

"Mine," he rasped against your skin. "You are mine."

His lips were relentless, his hands everywhere—gripping, touching, claiming.

You shuddered beneath him, the intensity of his hunger overwhelming, intoxicating.

"Yours," you whispered, your fingers fisting in his hair.

Seonghwa pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips stained with your blood, his breath ragged.

"Say it again," he pleaded.

"Yours."

A sound somewhere between a growl and a groan left his lips before he crashed his mouth against yours, kissing you with a hunger that bordered on madness.

He would ruin you. And you would let him. The taste of you was his ruin.

Seonghwa had thought he understood hunger before. He had believed he knew what it meant to crave, to ache, to desire something so fiercely it bordered on madness.

He had lied to himself. Because this? You? You were his true starvation.

His lips were still stained red, his breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps as he pulled back, crimson eyes wild. His grip on you was bruising, his entire body trembling as if the taste of you had shattered something vital inside him.

"Seonghwa—"

Your voice was breathless, teasing, knowing. And it broke him. A guttural growl tore from his chest, and before you could so much as blink, his fangs were sinking into your skin again.

You gasped sharply, fingers tangling in his hair as he bit into the soft curve of your shoulder, groaning against you like a starved beast. His body caged you in, pressing you deeper into the silk sheets as he devoured you, lips trailing down, fangs scraping, sinking, claiming.

You moaned, your body arching into him, and his grip tightened on your hips, fingers digging in.

"You taste…" he rasped, pulling back just enough to drag his tongue over the fresh wound. His voice was wrecked, desperate, fucked out from nothing but the taste of you. "You taste like sin ."

You let out a soft, breathy chuckle, your nails raking down his back, feeling the way his musclescshuddered beneath your touch. "Then why do you look like you want to drown in it?"

His head snapped up, his gaze locking onto yours.

And you knew. You had pushed him. The last thread of his restraint snapped .

A growl rumbled from deep in his chest as he yanked your body beneath him, his lips trailing down, lower, lower , his mouth finding the delicate skin just above your heart—

And then he bit .

Harder.

Deeper.

Your back arched off the mattress, a sharp moan escaping your lips.

Seonghwa groaned against your skin, his hips pressing against yours as he drank deep , as if the taste of you had possessed him, made him something darker,hungrier .

"Seonghwa—"

Another bite.

You gasped, a whimper slipping free, fingers gripping his hair as he worshipped you with his fangs, with his lips, with his body .

"You are cruel ," he groaned, his tongue laving over the fresh wound before sinking his fangs into your neck this time, groaning at the feel of your pulse against his lips.

You shuddered beneath him, heat coiling in your core, your breaths coming in ragged, uneven gasps. "And you are obsessed."

His hands tightened on your thighs,spreading them apart as his hips pressed flush against yours.

"You're mine ," he growled, voice low, dark,dangerous .

You smirked, tilting your head, offering your throat to him again .

"Then prove it ."

A snarl left his lips—

And then he ruined you. He wouldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

Your taste was a drug, and he was past the point of no return, past the point of anything resembling restraint. His lips moved feverishly , fangs sinking into your skin again and again—your neck, shoulders, collarbones, wrists—each bite deeper,needier , as if he were engraving himself into your very soul.

Each time he pulled away, his lips were red-stained, his eyes crazed , his breath ragged. " Mine ," he groaned against your pulse, hands sliding under your clothes, desperate, trembling. "I want— need —to feel you. All of you. No more barriers. No more teasing."

His fingers gripped the fabric of your clothing, his hands shaking as if he were on the edge of madness—but still, he waited. He needed you to say it.

And you did.

Soft. Breathless. A whisper against his lips.

" Take me, Seonghwa. "

A ragged moan ripped from his chest as his hands tore at your clothes. He stripped you down slowly , reverently, his fingers skimming your skin as if you were something holy , something meant to be worshipped .

His lips followed every inch of exposed flesh—his fangs trailing , scraping, nipping—marking you with deep red blossoms of possession.

" So beautiful, " he murmured against your stomach, pressing his lips to your hip bone, his fingers gripping your thighs. " So perfect. "

When you reached for his shirt, he let you pull it over his head, let you trace the sculpted lines of his body, your touch so soft, so delicate that he shuddered. And then you looked up at him—those wide, innocent, puppy eyes that made him snap.

" Fuck— "

His hands grabbed your waist, pushing you further onto your back, spreading your legs apart so abruptly you barely had time to gasp before his lips were on you.

A desperate growl left his throat as he devoured you, his tongue moving with deliberate, sinful precision, as if this was what he had craved for centuries.

You cried out, your fingers tangling in his jet-black hair as he moaned against you, as if your pleasure was his own undoing.

"You taste—" he groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs as he sucked at your clit. "You taste like I was made to worship you."

You whimpered, arching against him, losing yourself in the feel of his tongue, his lips, his fangs grazing against your trembling skin—

And Seonghwa just kept going.

Seonghwa parted your thighs with reverence, spreading you open as if you were something holy, something meant to be worshipped.

And he would worship you.

His gaze devoured you, hunger painting his features as he lowered himself, his lips brushing along the inside of your thigh. He inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut as if the very scent of you had him drunk, dizzy, wrecked.

Then—

His fangs sank in.

You gasped, back arching as his sharp teeth pierced your delicate skin. The sting bled into something pleasurable, something unbearably intoxicating, as his tongue followed, lapping at the fresh mark with a deep, guttural groan.

"Your blood…" he rasped, voice wrecked, lips feverish as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up your thigh, his fangs scraping teasingly over your hypersensitive skin. "Your taste—it’s going to ruin me."

Another bite.

A sharper moan spilled from your lips as he sucked the wound, his tongue flicking over it in slow, torturous strokes before his mouth moved higher. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place, his lips ghosting over your core, his breath hot and heavy against your damp heat.

And then—

His tongue flicked against your clit.

A ragged cry tore from your throat, your hands flying to his silken black hair, fingers twisting as he moaned, the vibrations sending a shockwave through your body.

He devoured you.

Lips sucking, tongue lapping, fangs grazing—he kissed you there with the same sensual, ravenous hunger that he had kissed your lips, his hands digging into your thighs, holding you still, keeping you open as he lost himself in the taste of you.

"So fucking sweet," he groaned, voice muffled as he suckled on your swollen bud, his tongue rolling in slow, lazy circles, making your thighs tremble around his head. "So fucking perfect."

Your breath hitched, your hips jerking, chasing the friction, but Seonghwa chuckled darkly, pressing your thighs down as his tongue dipped lower, teasing your entrance, tasting you with slow, languid strokes that made you sob his name.

"Look at you," he rasped against your slick folds, his voice deep, ruined. "Falling apart on my tongue. And I’ve barely even started."

And then he sucked, deep and harsh, his fangs grazing against your trembling skin as he dragged you closer and closer to the edge—

And he had no intention of stopping.

Seonghwa was cruel.

He was slow, teasing, dragging you through the flames of anticipation as he trailed his lips over your trembling thighs, his tongue flicking against your feverish skin between sharp, indulgent bites.

"You shake so beautifully for me," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, with hunger, his fingers kneading into the soft flesh of your legs as he sucked another deep, bruising mark into your inner thigh. "Are you afraid of how much you need me?"

You weren’t afraid.

But you were losing your mind.

His sharp fangs scraped your thigh again, dragging slow and deliberate before he kissed the mark—before his tongue flicked out, lapping at the wound with a groan so shamelessly sinful it sent a shiver down your spine.

You could feel his smirk against your skin. He knew what he was doing to you.

And he loved it.

Then, just when you thought you’d break, when your hips rolled up desperately seeking his mouth again—

His lips met your core.

A sharp cry tore from your throat as he licked a slow, sensual stripe over your folds, his tongue curling, tasting you thoroughly, deliberately, his groan vibrating against your soaked heat.

"You’re dripping for me," he rasped, his voice drenched in hunger, fascination, his fingers spreading you apart so he could see, so he could taste every drop of your arousal. "So needy. So desperate. And yet—"

His tongue flicked against your clit in a featherlight touch—so soft it made you whimper, made your hips jerk up, chasing the feeling.

He pulled away.

A dark, low chuckle left his lips, his breath fanning over your soaked folds, sending a shiver down your spine. "Look at you," he purred, amused, pressing a kiss right above where you needed him most. "Falling apart before I’ve even touched you properly."

"Seonghwa—"

"Ah, ah…" His fangs scraped your inner thigh again, making you jolt as he bit down, sucked, leaving another violet stain against your trembling skin. "Say it properly, sweetheart."

You whimpered, thighs trembling around his head. "Please…"

His lips curled against your thigh.

"That’s it," he murmured, voice dark with approval—and then, finally, he devoured you.

His mouth closed over your clit, sucking, his tongue flicking against the swollen bud in rapid, merciless strokes.

You sobbed his name.

Your body arched, your hands flying to his dark hair, fingers twisting as your thighs tried to squeeze around his head, to control the pleasure, but Seonghwa didn’t let you.

No, he pinned your hips down, growling as he held you open, drinking in every desperate, ragged moan as he buried himself in you.

His tongue licked into you slowly, teasing before he thrust it in deep, curling, stroking, before dragging up to flick, suck, devour—his pace relentless, his lips and tongue working in perfect sin to drive you straight to the edge.

"That’s it, sweetheart," he praised, his voice wrecked, his lips glistening as he suckled on your clit, rolling it against his tongue with purposeful, agonizing precision. "Give it to me."

Your thighs trembled.

Your back arched off the sheets, your hands yanking at his hair helplessly, gasping, shaking, your entire body a mess of heat and electricity as his mouth ruined you, owned you, claimed you.

And then—

He groaned into you. The sound vibrated against your core, sent you spiraling, sent stars bursting behind your eyes as the coil in your stomach snapped.

A shattered cry broke from your lips as you came hard, your body tensing, then shaking, then melting into the pleasure as his tongue kept moving, coaxing, soothing, lapping up every drop as if he could drink you in forever.

Seonghwa moaned as he pulled away, his fangs gleaming, his lips and chin glistening in the low candlelight.

"Fuck," he murmured, his voice dark, reverent, his fingers stroking up your trembling thighs as he licked his lips, tasting the remnants of your release with pure, feral satisfaction. "You taste better than anything I’ve ever had, sweetheart."

And you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.

Seonghwa was breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling with raw restraint, his fangs peeking from under his parted lips. He was starving. Not just for your blood. For you.

His fingers flexed against your thighs, his body taut with aching desire, with the need to take. To devour. To mark you so deeply you’d never belong to anyone else.

But you—

You just lay there, your body glowing under the candlelight, flushed and ruined, your chest rising and falling with every shallow, controlled breath.

Still playing with him.

Still teasing him even after he’d made you shake, sob, cum on his tongue.

His jaw clenched, his hands tightening on your thighs before he exhaled a shaky breath, dragging himself away from your heat before he lost all control.

His fingers went to the waistband of his pants.

Your eyes followed.

The moment the fabric hit the floor, your lips parted.

His cock sprung free, thick and aching, the flushed tip glistening with precum, standing proud against his sculpted stomach.

You swallowed. Seonghwa noticed. And it fucking destroyed him.

A dark, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he wrapped a long, elegant hand around his shaft, his fingers flexing, gripping himself, stroking slowly—so slow it made his breath shudder.

" What’s wrong, sweetheart? " he teased, voice deep, wrecked, thick with lust. " You look nervous. "

You met his gaze with that same unbothered, innocent expression, tilting your head, feigning nonchalance as your thighs instinctively pressed together.

Seonghwa chuckled, his grip tightening, his wrist twisting with every slow, purposeful stroke.

" Do you want to take care of this yourself? " he murmured, voice dark, indulgent, his fangs flashing as he hissed in pleasure. " Or should I keep going? "

The answer came immediately. You pushed yourself up on your knees, your body fluid, graceful, shifting to the edge of the bed until you were face to face with his cock, looking up at him with wide, feigned innocence.

Seonghwa inhaled sharply, his jaw tensing, his control hanging by a thread.

" Eager now, aren’t we? " he murmured, amusement laced with pure, agonizing hunger.

You didn’t answer. You just licked your lips.

His hand shot to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, not forcing, just holding—just watching as you breathed him in, as your hands slid up his thighs, as your nails dragged over his taut muscles, sending a violent shudder through his body.

And then— He slapped his cock against your lips. A wet, filthy sound filled the air as his heavy, aching length met your soft, warm skin, precum smearing across your lips, marking you, teasing you. Seonghwa groaned, low, guttural, his head tipping back at the sight of your pretty, swollen lips glistening with him.

" Look at you, " he murmured, breathless, desperate, tapping his cock against your lips again, smearing his arousal against the curve of your mouth. " My perfect little thing, finally where she belongs. "

You still didn’t answer. But your lips parted. And Seonghwa lost his mind.

Seonghwa’s patience was hanging by a thread.

You were kneeling before him, lips parted, eyes wide, your breath warm against his aching, leaking cock—and yet…

You weren’t taking him in. You were toying with him. A soft, delicate kiss was pressed against his swollen tip, your lips barely brushing over the precum that had gathered there. A soft, barely-there flick of your tongue followed, innocent, playful, tasting him—teasing him—but never truly giving him what he needed.

Seonghwa’s fingers tightened in your hair, his breath hitching as he watched you pull back just slightly, lips glossy, eyes still full of that damn feigned innocence.

" Sweetheart, " he murmured, voice wrecked, low, dark. " You’re playing a very dangerous game. "

A flutter of your lashes. A mocking tilt of your head.

" Am I? "

Seonghwa growled, the sound inhuman, sending a chill down your spine.

" You think I’ll let you keep teasing me? " His fingers tugged you closer, his cock pulsing in his grip. " You think I’ll let you play with me like this? "

You only giggled, lips grazing his cock again, just barely, your hands sliding up his thighs, light, teasing, before pulling away again.

Something inside him snapped.

" Enough. "

With one firm tug, Seonghwa tilted your head back, forcing your mouth wide open, fingers tightening in your hair as he angled you just right—

And then he thrust in.

The sound that left you was a mix of shock and pleasure, a soft whimper swallowed by the sheer force of him, by the way he filled your mouth, stretching you past your limits.

" That’s it, " Seonghwa groaned, voice shaking, head tipping back at the warmth of your mouth, the way your tongue pressed against his throbbing veins. " Finally behaving. "

Your hands flew to his thighs, nails digging in, trying to steady yourself as he pushed deeper—slowly, purposefully, making sure you felt every inch as he slid down your throat.

Until he hit the back. Until your nose met his pelvis. Until he buried himself completely inside you, the sheer size of him bulging in your throat, a perfect outline of his cock visible against your delicate skin.

" Fuck, " Seonghwa shuddered, his free hand brushing over the bulge in your throat, pressing just slightly, feeling himself inside you.

Your throat tightened around him at the pressure, and he swore loudly, his grip in your hair tightening, his cock throbbing.

" You feel that, sweetheart? " His thumb traced the bulge with dark fascination, a deep, satisfied growl rumbling from his chest. " That’s me— sweetly deep in your fucking throat. "

You let out a soft, muffled moan, your tongue flexing, sending a jolt of blinding pleasure through him.

His breath was shaky, his control hanging by a thread. And then— He pulled back. Just an inch. Just enough to let you breathe for half a second— Before he thrust back in, this time faster, rougher, forcing you to take him completely once more.

Your nails dug into his thighs, your body trembling, eyes glassy as he set a deep, steady pace, fucking into your mouth inch by inch, watching the way your lips stretched around him, the way your throat clenched, the way your eyes fluttered shut with every thrust. He was losing himself in you. You were ruining him.

" Mine, " Seonghwa rasped, his grip unrelenting, desperate, possessive. " You’re fucking mine. “

Whatever restraint he had left had shattered the moment he saw the tears glistening in your eyes, the way they spilled down your flushed cheeks as you struggled to take his impossible length.

You were choking on him, your throat clenching, tightening with every desperate gasp, every helpless little whimper that vibrated against his cock.

And fuck, that only made him thrust harder.

" Look at you, " Seonghwa hissed, fingers tangling tighter in your hair, holding you firmly in place as he fucked your throat open. " Crying on my cock like a good girl. "

You gagged, saliva dripping down your chin, your hands shaking against his thighs as he hit the back of your throat over and over again—relentless, deep, merciless.

Your lungs burned, your body quivering, but you could feel his cock throbbing, the tension in his muscles coiling tighter, the deep, wrecked groans falling from his lips becoming more desperate.

He was close. And then—

Seonghwa’s grip tightened, his hips snapping forward one last time, burying himself deep, making sure you took every inch, making sure you felt him as he came hard down your throat.

A low, broken growl tore from his chest, his cock pulsing, thick ropes of hot cum spilling down your throat, forcing you to swallow quickly or risk choking. But there was too much.

A gasp caught in your throat as the warmth overflowed, dripping from the corners of your mouth, running down your chin, your neck, staining your skin as you trembled beneath him.

Seonghwa groaned, watching the mess he made, watching the way you struggled to swallow every drop, your body shaking with the effort.

" Swallow. All of it. " His voice was low, hoarse, his thumb swiping across your lips, pushing the stray drops back into your mouth.

You obeyed, blinking up at him, teary-eyed, cheeks flushed, mouth still slightly open, a soft pant escaping you as you caught your breath.

And fuck—Seonghwa nearly lost it again.

" You look so fucking pretty like this, " he murmured, voice shaky, his thumb brushing over your lips, pressing down gently before he pulled you up by the hair.

Before he flipped you over.

A gasp left you as you were suddenly bent over the bed, your cheek pressed against the sheets, your body still shaking from how he just wrecked your throat.

And then— You felt his hands on you. Roaming. Exploring. Gripping.

You let out a soft whimper as he yanked your hips higher, pressing his aching cock against your soaking folds, dragging it along your wetness, teasing you, taunting you. But before he could push in, before he could claim you completely, he did something else first.

He bit you.

A sharp gasp left your lips as his fangs sank into your back, right between your shoulder blades, deep, hard, sending a jolt of pleasure and pain through your spine.

He groaned as your blood filled his mouth, hot, sweet, intoxicating.

His tongue flicked over the fresh wound, soothing, before he sucked harder, drinking you in, devouring you, desperate to have more, more, more.

" Mine, " Seonghwa growled against your skin, his hands tightening on your hips, his cock throbbing against you. " You’re mine, sweetheart. "

And then—He thrust in and he snapped.

The second he buried himself inside you, the second your tight heat squeezed around his cock, he lost it.

" Fuck— " his voice broke, his grip on your hips bruising, his breath ragged against your spine. " You’re… so tight, sweetheart—so fucking tight for me. "

He pulled back, just enough to let you feel the stretch, to let you feel the obscene thickness of him dragging against your walls—

Before he slammed back in.

A cry left your lips as he hit deep, so deep you could feel the ache in your stomach, the pressure, the way your body adjusted around his impossible size.

And fuck, Seonghwa felt it too.

His hand slid down, pressing against your lower belly, feeling the way his cock was bulging through your skin, how stuffed you were, how completely ruined he was making you.

" God… look at you, " he groaned, pressing down harder, watching the way you shuddered, how your walls fluttered around him. " You feel that, sweetheart? Feel how fucking deep I am? "

You let out a whimper, biting your lip, trying so hard to keep your composure, but—

Seonghwa wasn't having it.

With a low, wicked chuckle, he snapped his hips forward, hitting that perfect spot so precisely that you choked on your moan, your nails digging into the sheets.

" Oh, don’t hold back now, " he taunted, voice dripping with hunger, fangs grazing the curve of your shoulder as he thrust into you again—harder, faster, making your body jolt forward with each movement. " You wanted to tease me? Let’s see how well you can take it, pretty girl. "

A wicked idea flickered through your hazy mind—

Between his punishing thrusts, you arched your back, pressing your ass against him, grinding down on his cock, making it feel even tighter, even deeper.

" You little— " His fingers tightened around your throat, yanking you back against his chest, his other hand gripping your thigh, spreading you wider for him. " Do you enjoy testing me, my love? "

You gasped, eyes rolling back as his cock hit that spot again, as his fangs pressed against your pulse, as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

" S-Seonghwa— "

" That’s right. " His voice was dark, possessive, his tongue flicking over your rapidly beating pulse before he sank his fangs in.

The moment his teeth pierced your skin, his hips pounded into you faster, harder, sending you spiraling, sending you straight into oblivion.

You cried out, body tensing, clenching, your orgasm hitting you so violently you could feel the heat explode through your veins, feel your walls fluttering around him, feel the pulsating grip you had on his cock.

And fuck—that was it for him.

Seonghwa let out a guttural moan, his rhythm stuttering, his grip tightening as he bottomed out one last time, cock throbbing, filling you with his hot, thick release, marking you in every possible way.

But he wasn’t done. Not yet.

" One more time, sweetheart, " he whispered, pressing soft kisses against the new bite on your throat. " I need you again… I need to ruin you all over again. "

Seonghwa didn’t move.

Even with his cock buried deep inside you, even with the aftershocks of both your releases still lingering between you, he simply held you close, forehead pressed to yours, his breath shaky, his lips ghosting over your skin as if he never wanted to part from you again.

But he wasn’t done yet. No—this wasn’t over. It couldn’t be.

His fangs slowly retracted, the predator in him finally soothed, but his hunger for you was far from satisfied.

Not yet. Not until he gave you all of him.

Not until you understood just how much you meant to him.

With a soft hum, he tilted your chin up, his dark, obsidian eyes searching yours, his expression unreadable—until he leaned in and kissed you.

But this kiss was different. It wasn’t full of desperation or lust. It was slow. Deep.

His lips moved against yours with reverence, as if he were worshipping you, memorizing you, pouring every ounce of devotion and love he had for you into that single kiss.

You melted, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him closer, your heart pounding at the way he sighed into your mouth, like this was all he ever wanted.

He rocked his hips forward. Slowly.

A long, languid thrust that had you whimpering softly against his lips, your walls still sensitive and raw from the last time. But there was no rush now.

No hunger, no desperation—just love. Pure, unfiltered love.

" Let me love you, " Seonghwa murmured against your lips, his hand cradling your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. " Let me show you how much you mean to me. "

Your breath hitched. Because this—this was what you wanted. What you craved from him. What you had teased him for, tortured him for—for him to give in, to devote himself entirely to you, to confess what he truly felt. And he was finally doing it.

You could feel it in the way he moved inside you, his thrusts deep and slow, his cock stretching you perfectly, hitting every spot with precision, making you tremble beneath him.

You could feel it in the way he kissed you, how he took his time savoring your lips, breathing you in, as if he needed you more than blood itself.

And you could feel it in the way he whispered against your skin, each word sinking into you like a spell—

" I love you. "

A sharp gasp escaped you, your hands gripping onto him, your nails digging into his back, because fuck, the way he said it— So softly. So vulnerable. So genuine.

" I love you, " he whispered again, lips brushing over your cheek, your jawline, your neck, his words melting into your skin, sealing themselves into your soul.

" Let me have you forever, " he pleaded, his voice trembling, his thrusts growing deeper, smoother, his fingers lacing with yours. " Be mine, and I’ll give you everything—eternity, devotion, love—everything. "

A choked moan left you, your body tightening around him, your heart pounding wildly, because fuck—you could feel it.

The intensity of his love. The depth of his devotion. He wasn’t lying. He would give you everything. And for the first time—you let go.

" I’m yours, " you whispered, your voice soft, breathy, full of need, and fuck—that sent him over the edge.

His cock twitched deep inside you, his pace stuttering, a deep, broken moan tearing from his throat as his release spilled into you, filling you up one last time.

And the moment he felt you clench around him, the moment he felt your entire body tremble, your orgasm washing over you like a slow, sensual wave, he kissed you again, swallowing every whimper, every sigh, until the both of you were left panting against each other.

—

Seonghwa pulled out slowly, making you whine softly at the loss of fullness, at the way his warmth left you empty, but he was quick to soothe you.

His fingers traced every bite mark, his lips pressing soft, tender kisses over each one, admiring the evidence of his love on your body.

His fangs were gone, retracted, his hunger finally sated.

And now—all that was left was devotion.

" So beautiful, " he murmured, running his hands down your sides, marveling at you, at how thoroughly ruined you were for him.

He wrapped you in his arms, pressing your sweaty, exhausted body against his chest, holding you close, his fingers rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You were his. Forever.

" Come, " he murmured after a moment, shifting to sit up. " Let’s take a bath. "

You barely had the energy to nod, your limbs weak, but as he moved to stand, Hongjoong’s teasing voice floated through the room.

" Bath, huh? " he mused from the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, a knowing smirk on his lips. " You sure that’s all you want to do in there, my Lord? "

Seonghwa rolled his eyes, but the smirk that tugged at his lips was undeniable.

" Would it be a crime if I wanted one more round? " he murmured, nipping at your ear playfully.

You chuckled, your tired body still buzzing with warmth, and as you snuggled into his embrace, you whispered—

" I think I could handle one more. "

“But let's get you washed up first, my love.”

And just like that—the night was far from over.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou

[astrxsee]

I absolutely loved "price bringing the boys to his country home for the holidays," RAHHHHH, thank you for sharing your visions 😁 also re: your tags, I Will be getting you started on how soap talks SO FREAKING DIRTY About Price's pride and joy - - lord -- anyway, love for the New Year!

<3 -@horny-for-tf141

ilysm this is my first ask ever eeeeee

also this is part 2 to this

no bc simon wont shut up about you. johnny would hear about every interaction between the two of you that day. the scot eating up every sweet word that falls out of the larger man’s mouth.

“i could just smell her ‘air, took everythin’ in me not to grab her right there.”

soap would nod like an eager puppy, probably holding back something borderline feral.

“yeah, l.t., those eyes, they just do something for ya. don’t they?”

he’d say to ghost, pushing him to say more. he’d try and miserably fail to hide the growing tent in his pants as his superior kept talking. soap couldn’t help but to notice the tension in simon’s body and the way his hands would ball into fists as he kept talking.

“now what was she thinking putting on that slutty little dress on new year’s eve. god i wanted to rip that little number in half. our little birdie should know that she’s all mine.”

simon would say, his eyes peering over to johnny.

“aye, l.t., poor lass doesn’t know what’s good for her is all. show her what she needs. cap’ can’t keep her here forever.” the scot speaks up, the light from the warm fire your father made earlier flickering over his face.

-

AND OMG don’t even get me started on how they’d treat you in person like…

just imagine it’s christmas eve and your father is throwing a party for his team and a couple of his friends. simon can’t keep his eyes off you the entire night, and you know it.

you’d eventually drag him out to the porch for a smoke, him grumbling in opposition while you sweetly bat your eyelashes at him. of course he followed you like a dog, he’d follow you anywhere.

imagine cuddling into his side complaining that it’s ‘too cold’ and him putting his arm over your shoulders and pulling you in.

“why can’t you stop looking at me, simon?” you asked innocently, your eyes looking up at him. you knew the exact answer but this was just too fun.

he lets out a long groan, his hand running over his masked face.

“don’t do this to me, princess.” he practically begs you. his eyes filled with a feeling you can’t quite place.

then imagine you starting to tease him more as you trace cute patterns into the fabric of his stupid christmas sweater. his breathing becoming labored as he leans his head back, his eyes shutting. my man is fighting for his life

“please, lovie, you don’t know what you do to me.” he grits his teeth as his hands travel down to your hips. his large hand taking up so much space, squeezing onto you like you’d disappear.

“i’m sorry, si. i just can’t help it when you’re exactly what i want.”

you think it’s the doe eyes and the small kiss you pressed to his neck that gets you into the next situation.

in a split second, he had you pressed up against the siding of your father’s his captain’s house. his large arms caging you in between him and the wall. you could hear low growls coming from his throat. one of his large hands comes to rest on your hip as he buries his nose in your neck.

“you haven’t left my mind since i got here, dove. you’ve grown up so much since the last time i saw you, i just can’t help myself.”

he inhales sharply, breathing in your scent. he trails feather light kisses along your jawbone, almost like you’d break at any sort of pressure.

“you’ve been mine and you’ve always known it. just had to let you figure it out for yourself, princess.”

now don’t imagine johnny watching from inside, chubbing up at the sight of his lieutenant devouring price’s lovely, innocent little daughter. maybe ghost would let him watch when he takes her virginity

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 10

Summary - As (Y/N) recovers from his injury and Rhaenyra prepares for the birth of their sixth child Princess Rhaenys brings troubling news to the couple that changes the course of their lives forever.

Warnings - Canon character death(s), stillbirth, general HOTD warnings, pain, injuries, ableist language towards oneself

(Y/N) groaned as he rested his forehead against the cool stone wall. His legs shook from the effort it took to keep himself upright, his knuckles white with strain as he gripped his cane. The maesters had warned him of aggravating his injuries so soon after his recovery, but he had been going mad with boredom locked in his chambers. He hadn’t been allowed out of his chambers without someone standing guard like he was going to collapse at any second since he’d arrived on Vermithor. Although, considering the searing pain coming from his calf and shoulder perhaps he’d been too hasty in his break for freedom. 

Breathing heavily, (Y/N) straightened, his free hand placed on the wall for extra support as he made his way slowly down the hall. His jaw clenched and he barely suppressed a yell as an uneven stone on the floor caused the pain in his leg to ramp up to a blinding agony. He grabbed the wall before he could fall, but the sudden pressure on his arm jolted his shoulder and he could not stop the noise that escaped him at the sudden onset of pain. 

“Father?” 

(Y/N) turned his head at the voice, plastering a no doubt pained smile on his face at the sight of his son. “Should you not be at lessons, Luke?” 

Luke frowned, ignoring his father’s question, “Are you alright?” 

“Yes,” (Y/N) nodded. “Yes I am alright I just- I just needed to catch my breath.” 

Luke walked over to (Y/N), carefully helping sit on the ground. (Y/N) groaned in relief as the pressure was taken off his legs, allowing some of the pain to ease. Luke took a seat next to him, eyes full of worry as he looked at his father. (Y/N) raised his good arm, placing his palm on the boy's cheek in an attempt to soothe his worries. 

“I am alright, tresy. I promise, it was just a little pain.” 

Luke’s frown deepened, “It did not look like a little.” 

(Y/N) pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, “There is no need to worry about me, Luke.” Luke did not respond, and the look on his face reminded (Y/N) of the looks Rhea would give him when he was a young child. (Y/N) smiled softly, cupping his son’s cheek, “What is on your mind?” 

Luke bit his lip, and the clear conflict on his son’s face made (Y/N) frown. Luke did not meet his eyes as he spoke. “I just- I think they made a mistake.” 

“Who did?” 

“Gunthor should’ve been your heir.” 

(Y/N) clutched his son's cheek, probably too hard if the small wince from the boy was anything to go by. “Do not speak that way. You are my son, you are my heir. Gunthor was a snake and a leech and I am glad he’s dead.” 

“But-” 

“No buts, Luke.” (Y/N) said. “He wished to strip you of your birthright simply because he hated me and your grandsire.” 

“I cannot rule Runestone, father.” Luke sighed. “I’m not like you and mom.” 

“In what way, sweet boy.” (Y/N) huffed a small laugh, brushing some of Luke’s bangs out of his face. 

“I am not so-” Luke hesitated. “Perfect.” 

(Y/N) let out a full laugh at the statement, “Luke. Your mother and I are anything but. I became heir to Runestone after my mother’s death when I was just older than your brother. I did not wish for that responsibility, nor did I wish to become the Lord not four moons later when my grandsire died. My mother and grandsire looked after me and prepared me for my duties, and your father will do the same for you.” 

Before Luke could respond they were interrupted by Ser Lorent. The knight was almost frantic in his movements, and came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the two princes sitting on the stone floor. “Prince (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) nodded at the knight, “Ser Lorent.” 

“Princess Rhaenyra has requested your presence in the council chambers. The Princess Rhaenys has arrived from Kingslanding with news.” 

(Y/N) turned to his son, “We will continue this conversation later.” Luke nodded, and (Y/N) made to stand. He clenched his teeth as his body protested his movements. Luke and Ser Lorent reached to help him, but (Y/N) stopped them, holding up his hand. “I am fine.” 

He heard Luke sigh next to him, but the boy did not call his father on the lie. Instead he gave his father a small frown and watched as he struggled to stand. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before turning to Luke. “You should go back to your lessons before the maester realizes you are missing.” 

Luke nodded, giving his father an unreadable look before walking away. (Y/N) turned to Ser Lorent and motioned for him to lead the way. They had to stop halfway through the journey, (Y/N) doubling over as his stomach pain went from a dull ache to a sharp burn. Ser Lorent offered his arm to the Prince, but (Y/N) batted his hand away, taking a deep breath before continuing on to the council room. Ser Lorent trailed behind him cautiously as if expecting (Y/N) to keel over any second, which, (Y/N) mused, was not unreasonable given how he felt. 

(Y/N) collapsed into the chair that was brought out for him as soon as they reached the council room. Rhaenyra approached, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He reached up, placing his hand atop hers. “I am fine, just in some pain.” 

“I can get the maesters-” 

“I am fine.” He repeated, squeezing her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. “Let us hear what Rhaenys has to say.” 

Rhaenyra ran her hands gently through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen from his bun out of his face and tucking them behind his ear. “Alright. But afterward I want you to get some rest.” 

“Rhaenyra-” (Y/N) prepared to argue, but he was cut off by his father’s entrance into the room. 

“Listen to Rhaenyra.” His father chastised, giving (Y/N) a hard look. “You will not recover overnight, and you will especially not recover if you do not rest.” 

(Y/N) sank in on himself, feeling like a child under his father’s gaze. Rhaenyra chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before the doors were once again opened. Rhaenys entered the room and just by the expression on her face (Y/N) could tell his family was not going to be happy to hear what she had to say. 

“The Princess Rhaenys Targaryen.” 

“Thank you, Ser Lorent.” Rhaenyra smiled, “Princess Rhaenys, might we hope for news of Lord Corlys’ recovery?” 

“Viserys is dead.” Everyone in the room froze at Rhaenys’ words. (Y/N)’s eyes snapped from Rhaenys to his wife then to his father. Both Rhaenyra and Daemon were frozen in place, watching Rhaenys carefully. “I grieve this loss with you, Rhaenyra. My cousin, your father, possessed a kind heart.”

“There is more.” Rhaenys approached Rhaenyra, taking Rhaenyra’s hand in hers. She sighed, and (Y/N) tensed preparing himself for her next words. “Aegon has been crowned as his successor.” 

(Y/N) hung his head, gripping his cane between both hands. He shut his eyes tight, ears ringing and head pounding as the conversation continued around him. 

“They crowned him?” He heard Rhaenyra ask, grief and anger evident in her voice. 

“How did Viserys die?” (Y/N) looked up at the sound of his father’s voice. 

“I could not say.” 

“How long ago?” Rhaenyra bit out, and (Y/N) watched helplessly as his wife’s walls crumbled before him. 

“A day past, perhaps two. I was made a prisoner in my quarters while the Queen made her preparations.” 

“Viserys has been slain.” His father bit out. 

“Father.” (Y/N) sighed, giving him a look, and Daemon quieted yet the fury was still burning in his eyes. 

“Alicent demanded you declare for Aegon.” Rhaenyra said, posture becoming even more tense. Both Daemon and (Y/N) sat up straighter, Daemon taking a defensive stance and angling his body toward his son and good-daughter. 

“She did.” (Y/N) saw his father’s hand fall toward his sword. “I refused her.” 

“And yet you are alive.” 

“The High Septon crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit.” Rhaenys gave Daemon a harsh look, but no one in the room relaxed at her words. “I witnessed it myself just before I fled on Meleys.” 

“They crowned him before the masses.” Rhaenyra sounded absent, as if she was barely listening to the words being spoken around her. 

“So that the masses would see him as their rightful King.” 

(Y/N) watched Rhaenyra carefully, as his father and Rhaenys began to argue. 

“That whore of a Queen murdered my brother and stole his throne. And you could’ve burned them all for it.” 

Rhaenyra winced, hand coming to rest on her stomach. (Y/N) stood, ignoring the pain it brought him. He limped over to his wife as Rhaenys responded to Daemon, paying them barely any attention. 

“A war is like to be fought over this treachery, to be sure. But that war is not mine to begin. I only rushed to you out of loyalty to my husband and to my house.” Rhaenyra gasped, and (Y/N) placed his hand on her arm. She looked up at him, eyes wide. 

“The Greens are coming for you, Rhaenyra. And for your children. You should leave Dragonstone at once.” 

Rhaenyra gasped again, and (Y/N) steadied her to the best of his ability. “Rhaenyra, what-” 

He watched as Rhaenyra grabbed her dress pulling it up far enough to reach under it. When she brought her hand back into his few he froze at the crimson blood coating her fingers. Rhaenyra looked up at her, eyes shining. 

“The babe is coming.”

Breathing deeply, (Y/N) listened to the men around him chatter on. His father was saying something about patrols as he stood next to him, but (Y/N) could not hear him over the ringing in his ears and the faint cries of his wife. 

He took a breath in, Daemon speaking once more, and he took a breath out. 

In. 

Rhaenyra screamed again, and (Y/N) gripped the arms of his chair digging his blunt nails into the wood hard enough to leave crescent indents. 

Out. 

The first time (Y/N) had climbed a tree, the knights guarding him had yelled for him to get down until their voices were hoarse. He remembers their voices becoming softer and softer as he climbed higher and higher. That day was nearly thirty years ago. And yet, as he sat in his chair trying to understand the men around him, he felt as if he was back at the top of the tree, the voices fading from him as he climbed and climbed. 

A hand touched his neck, rubbing soothing circles into his skin as he started to come back to himself. He looked to his left where his father was watching him, brows pinched in worry. He opened his mouth, before shutting it again, taking another shaky breath. 

“My Prince?” 

(Y/N) looked to Lord Celtigar, his surroundings fading back in slowly. “What?” 

Celtigar looked to his father, and Daemon simply gave the man a pointed stare. Clearing his throat, Celtigar spoke. “A raven flew in this morning. The Sea Snake’s fever has broken, and he has left Evenfall.” 

(Y/N) nodded, running his shaking hands down his face. “Where is he sailing?” 

“That much is unclear, my Prince.” 

(Y/N) nodded, and at his lack of response Daemon spoke for him. “We’ll send ravens to our nearest allies: Lords Darklyn, Massey, and Bar Emmon.” 

“As well as Lords Coldwater, Shett, and Tollett.” (Y/N) said, unsure if his voice was loud enough for the surrounding Lords to hear him, but his father nodded at his words. 

“(Y/N)!” Rhaenyra’s voice echoed through the hall, and (Y/N) winced, squeezing his eyes shut tight. 

“Go to her.” His father knelt next to him, taking his hand and gently prying his tight grip off the chair. His free hand gently grasped his neck, the pressure the only thing keeping (Y/N) grounded. “She needs you.” 

(Y/N) nodded. He grabbed his cane from where it rested against the table, standing on unsteady legs. He looked to the Lords of Rhaenyra’s council, “Naught is to be done but by Rhaenyra’s direct command.” 

He made eye contact with Jace as he turned to walk out of the room. Jace walked over silently, pausing just in front of his father. His brown eyes were hard as he took in the men before him, but (Y/N) reached out, directing his son's attention to him and only to him. 

“Make sure no action is declared while your mother is abed.” He said, soft enough to ensure only Jace heard him. Jace straightened at the command, giving his father a curt nod. 

(Y/N) ignored the way his body ached and screamed at him as he climbed the stairs to Rhaenyra’s chambers. He practically flung the doors to the chambers open, breath coming in short but desperate gasps as he looked around for his wife. The maester rushed over to him, a protest most likely on the tip of his tongue, but (Y/N) simply held his hand up. He did not speak to the man as he pushed past him, making a beeline for his sobbing wife. The handmaidens flocking Rhaenyra moved out of his way as he approached, their worry for the princess evident in the looks they gave him. 

“Rhaenyra-” Her name had barely left his lips before she was reaching for him. He stumbled at the suddenness of her embrace but willed himself to stay standing as he brought his free hand to her hair. Mumbling soft words of reassurance into her sweaty hair, (Y/N) guided her toward the bed. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, dropping his cane to hold her properly as soon as his legs were supported by the mattress. 

He guided her hands to his shoulders, biting back a groan as her nails dug into the fresh skin that covered his wounds. He rested his forehead against hers as she cried, silent tears rolling down his cheeks at his wife’s pain. The faint dragon cries in the distance made (Y/N) choke back a sob. 

He was useless to his wife. 

The war in the Vale had crippled him, probably permanently. The maesters doubted he would ever be able to properly ride his dragon again let alone fight. He couldn’t even hold Rhaenyra properly as she struggled through labor, how was he supposed to help her secure her crown? 

“Princess, let us help you.” Elinda begged. 

Rhaenyra simply shook her head, gripping her husband harder as she screamed “No. Get out!” 

(Y/N) could not tell who she was talking to, but he cupped her face gently. “Rhaenyra please.” 

“Get out.” Rhaenyra sobbed, groaning and screaming. She was bearing down forcefully now, and (Y/N) watched helplessly. 

“You should not be doing this alone, Nyra.” (Y/N) sobbed, tears flowing down his face. “Please let them help.” 

The scream that wretched itself from Rhaenyra’s throat made (Y/N) shut his eyes, unable to watch his wife’s pain any longer. He murmured incoherently as Rhaenyra birthed their child, unsure if she was even able to hear him over her screams. When the screams stopped, and a gasp echoed through the now-silent room, (Y/N) opened his eyes. 

He was unable to stop the noise that escaped him at the sight of their daughter’s body, bloody and painfully still in Rhaenyra’s arms. She cradled the babe close to her chest, bringing her up so that (Y/N) could get a proper look at the daughter he would now never know. He pressed a kiss to his daughter before resting his head on Rhaenyra’s shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered, but his wife just shook her head. They both sat there cradling their daughter between them. People filtered in and out of the room, offering condolences to the pair, but they ignored them. The maester offered to take the babe to the silent sisters for them, but both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra turned him down, insisting that they were to do the preparation themselves. 

When Rhaenyra felt well enough to stand they began to walk to the room where the silent sisters were waiting for them. The sisters didn’t bother approaching the couple, just watching as silently as their name implied. Rhaenyra set their daughter carefully on the table and began to wrap her gently in the cloth wrap. 

(Y/N) did not believe in the Stranger, so the only people he could find to place the blame of the death of his only daughter on were the Greens. The usurpers of his wife’s birthright, the people who had attempted to help rob Luke of his, and now the killers of his child. 

“Rhea Royce.” (Y/N) caught Rhaenyra’s gaze as she cried over their daughter. She sobbed harder after she was finished wrapping her and (Y/N), unable to do anything else, just held her as they sobbed in the dark room.

He could not bring himself to look at the small pyre they had built on the hill. He kept his gaze firmly locked on Vermithor, and as if the dragon could read its rider's mind, Vermihtor kept his eyes trained on (Y/N), waiting patiently for his command. 

Rhaenyra stood motionless beside her husband, watery eyes focused solely on the unlit pyre. After minutes of excruciating silence, their family standing patiently behind the couple, she turned to (Y/N), giving him a curt nod. 

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) spoke. “Dracarys.” 

He watched as Vermithor crept forward slowly, the dragon gave his rider one last look before lighting the pyre. Only then did (Y/N) force himself to look at his daughter. He and Rhaenyra stood there silently as the black smoke from the flames rose into the air. The sound of steel being drawn eventually caused (Y/N) and Rhaenyra to turn to face the crowd behind them. 

A kingsguard that (Y/N) was not acquainted with stood before the crowd, putting the Prince immediately on edge. The guard took his helmet off, speaking to the guards in front of him. “I mean no harm brothers.” 

(Y/N) took a step forward, putting himself between the knight and his wife. The man reached into his satchel, taking the crown of (Y/N)’s great-grandfather and uncle out. (Y/N)’s eyes widened at the action, and his surprise furthered when the man kneeled, presenting (Y/N) with the crown. 

“I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength and give my blood for hers.” (Y/N) took the crown from the knight, turning it over in his hands to get a proper look at it. “I shall take no wife, hold no land, father no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor.” 

(Y/N) turned to Rhaenyra as those around them began to slowly bend the knee. Her face betrayed her surprise at the events, and (Y/N) slowly approached. He held the crown of her ancestors before her above her placing it softly on her head. (Y/N) knelt before his wife, the pain in his body easier to ignore than ever before. He kept his eyes trained on her as he spoke. 

“My Queen.”

---

Translations -

Tresy - son

Dracarys - dragon fire

[kteezy997]

The Candy Man-Part Six//W.W.

Warnings: SMUT, fluffy and filthy lovemaking, presence of cum, little bit of adult breastfeeding(sorry)(but am I?), doggy, interrupted sex, wanting to taste cum

The midwife came by for your six week post birth check up, and gave you the “okay” to start having sex again.

You and Willy wasted no time.

That very evening, Willy put the twins to bed, “I want you to go to our room,” he said, "and take off your clothes and get in to bed.”

It felt like forever waiting for him in bed, under your cozy sheets, your bare skin burning with desire.

“Sorry, honey,” Willy said, coming into the room, “Maple was fussy for a minute, but she’s asleep now.”

You bit your lip, watching your man pulling his shirt over his head, making his curls frizz out wildly. He dropped his pants to the floor. Completely naked, he got on top of you, kissing you on the cheek. You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Daddy’s here.” he whispered, then captured your lips in a deep kiss. You were both hungry for each other, and your tongues danced eagerly in your mouths.

“Mm, fuck me, Willy.” you moaned.

He shoved the sheets off your body, and he left little kisses on your stomach, down your hips, and onto your thighs, sliding his hands down your curves the whole way. He parted your legs, and instantly dipped down to lap his tongue along your clit. “So wet, my love, and so yummy.” he said, then resumed licking stripes between your folds.

You mumbled some curse words, and hiked your knees up and apart, spreading your pussy completely for him. As he suctioned his mouth on your clit, you grabbed his curls, moaning like mad.

Willy held your thighs, and shook his head back and forth, his tongue swiping over your clit. He started to moan against you, creating vibrations through your entire body.

“Ugh, god, Willy!” you cried.

He pressed a kiss to your dripping pussy, then backed away a bit. He inserted two fingers inside you, pumping them steadily.

It was just a moment after he started to fuck you with his fingers that you came. You were out of breath, but you knew that this was far from over.

Willy got on top of you, hovering over your face, he kissed you. You felt his hard cock nudging into your wetness. With a little push, he was inside you. His bright green eyes had gotten darker with lust, and his mouth fell open as he entered you.

You clasped your arms and legs around his body. You just wanted him completely on you. You needed his warmth around you, his cock inside of you, and his skin on yours, just to survive.

With your bodies totally pressed together, Willy started to rock his hips to and fro. His cock filled you up and it slid in and out so blissfully. His chest massaged your tits as he moved. His tight tummy was smooth, and his muscles rippled against you.

“Willy, Willy, I love you.” You cooed, repeating it like a mantra over and over.

He kissed your face tenderly, and rested his head next to yours, moaning in your ear, “I love you, my darling. Mother of my sweet babies.” He ran his hand over your hair, and gave you soft smooches on your cheek, and down your neck. He sucked on your throat, as if he wanted to consume you.

Willy then stopped, raising himself slightly. He pushed his whole length into you from an altered angle.

You arched your back, moaning as he filled you up like never before. Your toes curled and your legs involuntarily clenched his sides.

He switched up his rhythm, and now he thrusted into you hard and rough. Wet smacking sounds came from his cock pounding your pussy.

You took the Lord’s name in vain. Fuck, this was worth the wait. You pressed your hands onto Willy’s back. Feeling another orgasm mounting. You watched as his brows furrowed together. He would go from a look of serious concentration to letting his head fall back from the pleasure, biting his bottom lip as he did so.

Willy stuck his thumb in his mouth, wetting it, then he pressed it to your clit. He rubbed the sensitive nub as he rotated his hips, letting his cock destroy your pussy walls.

Your pussy throbbed, and you fully let go, shaking against Willy as you came again.

He pulled his cock out as you tried to regain your breathing, and he jerked it for a few seconds before drops of his cum started to land on your belly.

“Ahh.” he groaned, emptying his load, and then he looked at you with a silly little grin.

You panted softly and giggled at the look on his face. Your man was satisfied and so in love. And you were absolutely obsessed with him.

He leaned down to kiss you, and your hands went to his sides, feeling his soft, sweaty skin. “We’re not done yet, my love, I hope you know.”

You laughed, “Clean me up before we go again, Willy Wonka.”

He nodded, letting his curls fall down in your forehead as he kissed you quickly. He got up to grab a cloth to wipe your belly with.

……

You fell asleep for a couple of hours or so, knowing that he would wake you up for more sex. You were sound asleep, but you felt a pair of warm, wet lips on your nipple. You pulled the covers away, and cupped his handsome face as he sucked some milk from your tit. “Willy.” you cooed.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” he said, holding your breast, he took another suck, swallowed, “So sweet, like candy.”

“It’s okay, I knew you were going to wake me up somehow.” You slowly combed your fingers through his hair, keeping it out of his eyes.

Willy sighed happily as he suckled you. He nuzzled his face into your breasts, kissing your nipples like he was thanking them for your milk. He drank from you for just a moment more, then he sat up, “Round two, baby?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You nodded, smiling cheekily. “How do you want me, Daddy?”

“Ass up, I love looking at your beautiful back while I ram into you.” he answered, confidently.

You mock pouted at him, “That’s sweet. And so hot, Mr. Wonka.” you sat up, touching his chest and kissing him.

“Mm,” he cooed against your lips, parting to say, “I think I like it when you call me Mr. Wonka.”

You giggled, “Well you are my candy man, and this round,” you traced his lips idly with your fingertips, “I want to taste your sweet cream, sir.”

Willy smirked, “Yes ma’am, but first I have to fuck that pretty pussy of yours.” With that, he spun you, shoved you onto your hands and knees and grabbed your ass.

You gasped, but arched your back in sync with him sticking his cock in you. You grabbed onto the pillow as an anchor as he bucked his hips.

He squeezed and kneaded your ass cheeks as he slammed his cock inside of you. He leaned forward, shoving your shoulders down and he started to pound away at you as fast as he could.

You whimpered and whined repeatedly. The friction inside of you felt amazing, and your legs started to shake. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” you cried into the mattress. It was such a thrill for you to have the kind, tender Willy in front of everyone, but also have the Willy that was so confident and passionate when it came to sex. He was the perfect man, a gentleman in the streets and a freak in your sheets.

Suddenly, there was a different kind of cry to be heard. It was one of the babies.

Willy stopped what he was doing to you at once, “I bet it’s Maple, she had a hard time getting to sleep, poor thing.” he was panting. He gently placed you down on the bed.

“I would go check on her, honey, but… I don’t think I can walk.” you admitted with a tiny laugh.

Willy smiled at you, and he caressed your face lovingly. “Don’t you worry, Mommy. I’ll take care of everything.”

Your baby girl let out another pitiful cry.

He kissed you quickly, “Off I go. We will finish this another time, my love.” he promised before whisking away to the babies’ room.

I'm definitely getting that cream soon.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss

@bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt

[readychilledwine]

Pieces of You - Prologue

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected

Warnings - death, loss of a mate, babies, drug induced sleep

A/N - this one is going to hurt before it feels good, friends. It's gonna hurt a lot. Based on these little pictures I found in a tiktok

Silence had fallen over the house.

There wasn't a single voice whispering, no bells to ring in the celebration of Nyx's birth, no loud pops from corks of champagne echoing in the air. 

Just silence. 

Madja stood in the doorway, a small bundle of what should have been joy wrapped in her arms. Rhys was sat on the steps, shoulders shaking with anger and sadness. 

The Cauldron had refused Nesta's offer. It had instead mocked them, changing Nesta's womb, forcing her to keep the powers that plagued her, and breaking the death bargain. 

It forced him to live while his mate died, promising there were no second chances this time. No magic being to bring her back again. This time was for good. It was forever. Rhysand knew life could be a bitter thing, but he did not expect death to be as cruel. 

“High lord,” Madja approached slowly. “We need to decide how we are feeding Nyx. The babe needs to eat.”

Azriel appeared besides Rhys, kneeling down next to him as he stared off the balcony. “I.. I don't know,” he finally answered. “We hadn't talked about it. She figured she would just be here to do it.” Azriel squeezed Rhysand's shoulder, handing him a vial with blue liquid in it. “We will have to find a wet nurse. Though, I am unsure how you will find one this last minute.”

“Y/n,” Azriel said softly. “She just had a babe, didn't she?” Madja nodded. “Can she just feed them both?”

“it is possible. Y/n does over produce already and has been storing milk. Newborns need to be fed almost hourly, though, shadowsinger. She'd have to have them both here, or Nyx will have to stay with her."

Rhys just shrugged, uncorking the vial and shooting back the contents. “I really don't care about that aspect, Madja. The house is huge, and I'm alone now anyway. What's the point in caring? She can decide." Azriel helped him stand as the sleeping drought started to work and supported his brother into a bedroom. 

He reappeared moments later. “I'll ask her. I know you don't want to burden her.” He reached for Nyx, admiring his perfect face again. “She's a sweet girl, quiet, good listener. She might be good for both of them while he heals.”

Madja just nodded. “Just remember that two grieving widowers will need a village to care for two newborns.”

The small cottage you lived in was quiet. You were leaned against the couch, sitting in the floor with your head laid back. Caring for your daughter alone was a chore, and you knew you should have been sleeping, but something was keeping you awake. 

A gentle knock in the door had you cringing, praying Morwenna wouldn't wake up. You moved to the door quickly, not noticing the shadow whisping around your feet and opening it to a desperate shadowsinger. “Az?” You moved for him to come in, stomach dropping at the sight of the babe in his arms. “Please tell me you being here with that sweet little thing doesn't mean what I think it does.”

Azriel just looked up, tears finally falling. “He hasn't ate yet,” your heart shattered at the unneeded confirmation. “Please, help us.”

You took the Illyrian babe instantly, taking your shirt off without question to offer him food. Azriel's shoulders fell in relief as his little cheeks began to move, a small hand and fingers reaching to your pinky. 

The two of you sat in heavy silence again. Azriel processing what had all happened that day, and you, aching for a male you hardly knew, and mourning the female that had become a close friend. 

You almost laughed at how cruel life could be. To lose your mate before childbirth, and then to lose your friend, the female who held your hand during labor, only a week later.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avajustreads

Pieces of You Taglist:

@dr4g0ngirl

[dipperscavern]

Lord dippy!! Congrats on 1k they're soooo well deserved <3 you're ensuring the safety and well-being of your people (stark men's wives) and keeping us warm and well-fed (writing tons of amazing stuff), without you we'd never manage to survive trough the unforgiving long winter (the lack of good fanfics & blurbs)...anyways :3 may I humbly ask for an angst/comfort blurb with Jon?? In my mind he never left Winterfell and was forever happy with his alive siblings and he never had to feel like a bastard outsider. he didn't deserve all dat

hi baby!! this was so sweet omg thank you so much :( i hope you enjoy <3 (spoiler alert i got carried away) (as per usual)

jon snow x gn!reader

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jon winces, a small noise emitting from his throat as pain seeps up his torso.

his cuts run deep; they’ll scar, melisandre says, but stannis’ closest thing to a maester insists on jon using a paste and bandages to allow them to heal. the paste certainly helps, but it still aggravates the skin when applied — no matter how soothing it was crafted to be.

the process is dreadful. it took minutes of him staring at the marks where he knows his blood left him, hesitation clawing up his throat before he worked up the ability to even begin. the open wounds have scabbed over, allowing the paste to coat them, but to jon, it doesn’t make the sight any prettier. he thinks the marred flesh a grisly spectacle.

memory of his fathers words echo in the back of his mind. lord eddard stark always appreciated scars on a man, saying it not only told a story, but spoke of how they survived it. a sick part of jon wishes there was no story of survival to tell.

a sharp intake of air passes through his lips as his hands shake, making his movements sloppy — accidentally pressing on the sensitive area more than he wished. he remembers when arrows pierced his skin, having a similar maintenance process as this; only these daggers wound unseen layers.

a knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts. it’s soft, tentative. he knows who it is before your honeyed voice rings from behind it. “Jon?”

he hums in question. “Can I come in?”

a second passes, a brief thought of covering himself enters his mind — a flash of insecurity pooling in his gut. it’s you, he reasons. but a different voice raises the question, would you reject the ugly parts of him?

his eyes flicker to his abdomen, another part of him now unworthy.

against his own better judgement, he hums in approval. he doesn’t turn to face you as the door opens; that small, aching part of him always wins one way or another.

he hears you turn the lock after you come in. he pretends not to know it’s because you realize he’s compromised, and you’re the only person he’d let see him like this. if he acknowledges it in full, he doubts his ability to keep his breathing steady — and these days his hands shake enough already.

another thumb-smooth of paste over a gash, another sharp ache. he grits his teeth in effort to conceal any noises that threaten to escape him. not in your company, not now. the atmosphere since his prominent death and return is tense as is.

unfortunately for him, you’re far too attentive to let it go unnoticed. a small turn of his head, and he sees your look of worry; the way your fingers grasp one another, no doubt in attempt to keep your qualms to yourself. it doesn’t work, it never has. not when it comes to jon, anyway.

“Jon, please let me help you.” a plea, a whisper of comfort you wish to offer him in the form of your saccharine hands. even as children, you insisted on bandaging his small cuts. putting cream on his bruises, dutifully checking on them until healed.

he stills. his voice a low, quiet rasp. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” your voice comes closer, and he feels you enter his space. what he wouldn’t give to make sure you never leave. “I want to. Can I?”

your hand wraps around his bicep, thumb moving slowly across his skin. a small, soothing touch that sends a warm feeling crawling up his spine. he’s lucky you don’t face him now, as you’d see the way his lashes have fluttered shut. such a seemingly simple thing you give him, and it makes his breath hitch all the same.

it doesn’t take much lately to set his emotions in disarray, and your touch is the only thing that helps. you seem to know this too, for your hands seek him now more than ever — and he would be a liar if he said he doesn’t cling to the respite you bring him like a lifeline.

his agreeance is nearly unheard, a small murmur accompanied by an even smaller nod. jon’s always had a hard time accepting help, especially it in the form of gentle touches and kind words; the kind he thinks himself undeserving of.

but you know jon. you know what he needs, even if he can’t bring himself to ask for it.

you press a small kiss to his bare shoulder, moving to stand in front of him. goosebumps trail his body at the feeling of your lips, and he bites back the want to close his eyes. he wants to savor the feeling, but he cherishes the moments gets to admire you even more.

your brows pinch ever so lightly when you see his abdomen, even with some of the severed skin already covered in paste. though you take the bowl harboring the medicine, a pang of embarrassment courses through him at your disdain. when your fingers reach to make contact, he expects pain, but none ever comes.

you touch him with a gentleness thats featherlight, and he subconsciously relaxes under your fingertips. he feels like his senses are on overdrive, feeling every touch, every breath. every unspoken word communicated through your treatment of him.

the silence is comforting, even as you frown. all of jon’s attention is on you, so much so that he doesn’t even feel the usual dull ache of torn skin healing itself. even so, you can’t seem to help yourself.

you whisper an apology, a hesitant confession. one that jon is caught off guard by. he almost doesn’t know what you mean, until he tears his gaze away from your expression enough to notice yours is trapped on the place where four daggers took his life. something clicks into place for him.

he stops your hand, his own wrapping around your wrist. not harshly, jon never is. “Hey,” he says. your eyes meet his. “You didn’t do this.”

though not directly said aloud, you know his true meaning. he doesn’t like when you apologize for things that aren’t your fault. even in his current state, he’s ever quick to reassure. “Y’ hear me?”

you nod, and while it’s not enough to remove the pity from your gaze, you don’t have that guilty look in your eye — like you did something wrong. jon knows you carry his death on your shoulders, even when the weight isn’t yours to bear.

he brings your wrist to his lips, kissing it before allowing you to continue. he can see the ghost of a smile grace your lips, and that’s enough for him.

minutes pass like that; you, tending to his wounds with the touch of embodied delicacy, and him, soaking up every piece of you he can. jons content to spend a lifetime in this very moment.

his wish isn’t granted, and soon, he’s reaching for fresh bandages. deja-vu of the arrows shot by a red archer lingers in the back of his mind, but the back is where it stays, as you’re forefront. always.

when he’s finished wrapping the white material, he turns to face you. “You don’t have to do that. Again.”

“Do you not want me to?” you’re sincere in your asking, and he knows you wouldn’t if he asked you not to — but he doesn’t, and his silence is telling.

you can’t help the small smile at his lack of words, and when you smile, jon can’t help but follow suit. mere days from being released from the strangers clutches, and you have him smiling. you’re a godsend. angelic. he’d tell you so if he could ever find the words.

but you’ve never relied on things only spoken. you step forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek and wrapping your arms around him; careful to avoid your torso touching his. jon’s appreciative of your effort, but he’s less hesitant, pulling you flush to him regardless. his head finds the crook of your shoulder, and he has no intent on letting you go anytime soon — unless there’s another knock on the door.

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[ssparksflyy]

percy x zeus!gf hcs pls!!! and could i request it to be more on the funny side and how percy and zeus have beef but also get along cuz of gf

ask and thou shall receive ༉‧₊˚.

percy jackson dating hcs ! ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of zeus!reader warning(s): little bit of swearing an: hi! ty for requesting <3 im literally not even funny but i hope u enjoy thissss! also theres a lotta taylor in this one 🤭

BIG REPUTATION BIG REPUTATION OHHH YOU AND ME WE GOT BIG REPUTATIONS AHHH

it doesnt matter if youre a social butterfly or antisocial, everybody knew you and percy before you even started dating

so best believe when you actually got together, everybody ( literally ) cheered

but your flirting era had to be on of the most painful things to watch

seriously doesnt matter if you got game or not, percy is literally oblivious and a LOSERRRRR

im so sorry but somebody had to say it

bro had THE BIGGEST crush on you and whenever he'd try to like compliment you itd usually sound a little weird

tell me why he'd probably say something like

"i like your outfit today! that shirt for sure looks better with those jeans than it did with the shorts you wore 2 weeks ago :)"

lil creep

cue silena crying in the corner because she made a bet with beckendorf and it is NOT looking good for her right now

WE NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE.

you guys are iconic

like well-known power couple

I'D be scared to train with you guys cause like what do you MEAN i gotta go against the best swordsmen at camp and the daughter of the king of the gods??

no thank you, i choose life ♡

when people are asked to think of a couple, they immediately think of you guys

everybody loves you guys for real

if you ever broke up ( which you wont, percy would probably just say "no" ) itd probably leave everybody super torn

ITD BE LIKE IN GILMORE GIRLS WHEN LORELAI AND LUKE BROKE UP AND THE WHOLE TOWN LIKE TOOK SIDES

if you havent watched gilmore girls, that basically sums the situation up. lorelai is literally like the town's sweetheart and luke is the owner of the most popular diner in their small town ♡ very cutesy

so sorry for the spoiler

SALLY LOVESSS YOU

she's literally so sweet and treats you as if you were her own child

she'd definitely bake cookies when you first meet and if you liked them, you best believe you are being sent back to camp with a baggie full of cookies

cant love you as much as percy does though !!

youre literally his queen

( sorry i say literally a lot )

he treats you like royaltyyyyy

always opening doors for you, walks you everywhere, follows the sidewalk rule, everything ♡

when its raining, he picks you up bridal style and takes you wherever you need to go, so you dont get your shoes wet ♡♡

yall literally live in the rain tho

neither of you leave your cabin with an umbrella, the rain just gives you life

AND I DONT KNOW WHY BUT WITH YOU ID DANCE IN A STORM IN MY BEST DRESS FEARLESS

one time, you went out for a fancy dinner, got dressed up all nice very fancy very fancy

BUT you BOTH forgot to check the weather

and it ended up POURING rain by the time you got out of the restaurant

and i kid you not

percy just grabs you by the hand, leads you out into the rain, and begins to dance with you.

no coverage, no music, no fucks given. just him and his girl.

he treasures that moment forever and ever

all the gods looked down at you from olympus and melted

neither of you care if you're disrespecting your fathers, you spend almost every night together ♡

percy is absolutely a big cuddler

literally just adores the feeling of you close to him

oh lord save him his drug is his baby he'll be using for the rest of his life

falling asleep together is so easy, you just melt into each other's touch

waking up is what's harder

neither of you want to leave the bed, and neither of you want the other person to leave the bed either.

percy's the typa guy to just have a sweet little conversation with you before he gets up for the day

you always get a good morning ( and a good night! ), then percy asks you what's on your schedule for the day ( as if he hasn't memorized it by now ), and what you wanted for breakfast that morning

he simply cannot get up without it

he's also the type of guy to just whisper sweet nothings into your ear if he wakes up before you ♡

he just goes on a little ramble about how pretty you look when your sleeping, even though you are sleeping while he's 'talking' to you

sorry where was i?

ZEUS.

the bastrard HATES percy and percy HATES the bastard

theyve literally been beefing since he was 12 years old

so best believe when zeus found out his daughter was dating this son of poseidon??? oo he was PISSEDDD.

poseidon is literally so chill with you. like he just cares that percy is happy. seriously doesn't care about who your dad is. if anything, he already sees you as family

zeus holds back everything in him to not kill percy on the spot every time you make out

he doesn't do it because he knows you'd probably walk to the underworld to get him back and hades would go feral if he got another orpheus & eurydice

percy gives zero fucks. he flips off the sky every time he walks outside

percy is so sweet and caring and kind and shows your father such respect like hes literally an angel 😇😇

i wouldn't say that he starts like actually respecting him, but he tries not to offend him as often as usual, just for you ♡

in the scenario that you'd have to make a trip to olympus, percy and zeus put on their big boy pants and try to tolerate each other

hera dont like you or percy bro she's literally just there

its okay though, you both despise her for kidnapping percy and wiping his memory ♡♡♡

JASON AND THALIA HOWEVER

thalia would definitely be the dramatic dad that zeus cant be (in person, at least)

whenever she and the hunters stay at camp she ( jokingly ) tells percy

"jackson, i want her home by NINE PEE EM. no later. i expect you won't be drinking, and you will be TAKING CARE OF HER. in the instance that i hear you DONT, i think you'll be taking a second trip across the river styx, you hear me?"

in like an sergeant voice and everything

percy plays along with it and salutes her going "yes ma'am!"

jason thinks you are so cute together

since you were at camp when the whole switcheroo thing happened, jason knew you first, and you were instantly best buddies

you told him about percy, and once he met him, he was happy to find out he was exactly like you described him

jason and thalia are ur #1 supporters ♡

in summary, alexa play that should be me

[surielstea]

Puppy Love

Eris week day two: Childhood

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x WinterCourt!Reader

Summary: Reader and Eris adventure beyond their courts borders to go hunting in the secluded, evergreen forest.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff | adolescent Eris is a force to be reckoned with.

2.5k words.

The crisp, cold air fogged in front of my mouth as I let out a relishing breath. Officially winter, the season sacred to my Court. I nearly giggled with delight as my boots crunched in the snow, the sweet sound putting a beaming smile on my face.

I was on my trek towards the Autumn Court border, where I'd meet with Eris. Vanserra, a young lord and the sole heir of the Autumn Throne, though rumor has it that the Lady of Autumn was pregnant with another.

Eris and I met last year when he scared off my prey with his loud steps, I practically growled in his face but he only stared at me wide-eyed with flushed cheeks— and then I realized he had never met a girl who wasn't tripping over themselves in attempt to charm him, a young handsome lord would be any Court Lady's dream. That day he had claimed he didn't know what he was doing, that his father sent him out here with some fancy arrows and told him to bring back dinner. I gave him my harvest that day and he demanded I teach him how to hunt, and we've met every morning since.

"I hate the cold," The young lord grumbled, his reddened nose awfully adorable and destroying his facade of distaste.

"Of course you do, Lordling." I sigh. "Accustomed to a life of warm meals and crackling fireplaces," I drone on as I approach him, my white fur cloak blending in with the blinding snow.

His lip curled. "You're a princess, you're accustomed to that too."

I shrug. "Yes but I, unlike you, don't whine when the weather isn't to my liking," I hum with a snarky smile.

He deadpanned. "If I recall, five months ago you were moaning and groaning about the heat." He retorted and my smile fell.

"Well then," I click my tongue. He looks down at the basket in my hands, his brow raised.

"This is a gift for you, for our one-year friend anniversary." I hum and hold the wicker basket out to him, the blanket over it shifting with movement. He looked at it curiously, as if whatever was inside might bite his hand off.

"Friend zoned? After all my efforts of attempting to enchant you?" He says, taking the basket from me. I give him an incredulous look. He knew it'd never work, that the Prince with fire in his veins and Princess of ice and snow could never be together, forever opposing courts. No matter how badly I wished for that fact to change.

"Just, open it." I push the basket into his hand and he takes it, a sniffling snout peaking out from beneath the blanket. Eris looked at me slightly alarmed but I only gave him an encouraging smile. He sighs and flips back the rest of the blanket, revealing a pup with a gray coat, his tail wagging excitedly at the sight of his new owner.

"Where did you get this?" He looked at me with alarmed confusion and I rolled my eyes.

"My uncle gifted him to me on solstice, but we don't have the right environment to train and take care of him," I took the pup from his basket and cradled him in my arms, he chuffed and attempted to lick my cheek.

"He's a hunting dog, a smoke hound to be exact," I explain and hand him to Eris, who holds the dog like he was an alien.

"I know what he is. Do you understand what you're giving away?" He raises a brow. Smokehounds were the best breed in Prythian, not only that but this was a pure breed, so rare that even one was extremely difficult to come by. I knew the Autumn Court had prized them, and I could think of no one more deserving than the young lord who had snuck his way into my frozen heart this past year.

"Yes, very aware." I smile.

"I can't accept him, any of this," He shakes his head and puts the dog back into the basket, and attempts to hand it back to me.

"But look, he's already so attached to you,"  I argue with adoring eyes as the pup licks at Eris's ringed fingers.

"Let him hunt with us today, and then we'll decide who he goes home with." I place the basket down and watch as the hound spills out of it, trotting through the deep snow. His thick coat kept him warm, and his tongue lolling out was enough to say he was happy to be outside rather than trapped in my castle, to be doing what he was born to.

"Fine," Eris sighed, then grabbed his bow from his back. I did the same with mine. We followed the dog through the forest, allowing him to lead us as he tracked an invisible scent that even our fae senses couldn't pick up. His long ears nearly dragged through the snow as he trudged forward.

"What will you name him?" I ask softly, my voice quiet in fear of scaring off any prey.

"You can name him," Eris grumbled, showing only disinterest in the dog. I'd find it rude if I didn't know him better than that. He was trying to let it not get to him, he had never received such a meaningful gift for no real reason. He didn't like the warm feeling in his chest that he had never quite been able to control.

"Come on," I groan. "At least bounce ideas with me?" I suggest but he ignores me and I stop in my tracks, staring at him and sheathing my arrow back in its quiver.

He halted too after realizing I had stopped and turned to me with a raised brow.

"Why do you do this," I sigh.

"Do what?" He slings his bow over his shoulder.

"Deny any form of admiration I try to give you?" I stride closer, only a pace but enough to send him a message.

He stayed silent, only swallowing thickly as a reply. "It's a hound, Princess. I appreciate it but it's too grand of a gesture—" He begins to argue after a moment but I cut him off.

"This isn't about the dog." I shake my head. "Why do you refuse to let me you let me love you?" My brows crease and he bristles at my wording, but that is what it was, isn't it? That warm feeling he couldn't control that twisted him into knots, it was love, and he was terrified of it.

"Because I don't feel the same." He wills himself to say and a twinge of pain cracks through my heart but I remain strong.

"Liar," I snarl. "What are you so afraid of?" I take another step forward, so close that if I reached out, I could grab his hand in mine.

He shrugs and looks to the side, at the long line of evergreen trees that were more free than him, rooted into the frozen soil but still, alive and thriving. Far more than he'd ever be while chained to a throne. "Eris," I whisper and he shudders at the way I say his name. It was too intimate, it held none of the malice it often did when his father spat it, only heavy with adoration and guilt. "Eris look at me," I say and he steels his features, because my eyes were too much for him to bear, the eyes of the female he loves, and that horrifies him, because he cannot fool or trick me when I stare at him with those all-seeing eyes, cannot attempt to plot or ensnare when I look at him like that.

"I'm afraid of my father finding out," He confesses. "Terrified that if he discovers that something other than power makes me happy, he'd destroy it." His voice was as pure and raw as the fresh snow beneath our feet.

"We're seventeen, we shouldn't have to worry about that—" I begin but it was his turn to cut me off.

"But we're not normal kids, we will never be normal kids." He reached out and cupped my cheeks, and despite the negative temperatures, his palms were warm and soothing against my icy skin. "And I can't risk you."

"I'm a princess of my court, sole heir to the Winter Throne. To hurt me would be an act of war, he cannot touch me." I claim.

"No, but he will find a way. He will cleave us and tear us apart until you hate me." He claims and I frown.

"That will never happen." I shake my head, refusing the idea of ever hating the male that stood in front of me.

"Won't it?" His hands on my face press firmer, stressing his point. "We're heirs of opposing courts, inevitably we will become enemies." He explains.

"But we could be the ones to form an alliance," A fool's dream. The autumn court was too prideful to accept any other court, and the winter court would never ally with fire bringers. "Can't we just be stupid and reckless and young, for once?" I plead. "Even for only a few moments?" I say and reach forward, gripping his tunic in my fist.

"Is that too much to ask for?" I murmur and his eyes soften.

"Far too much," He replies, his warm breath mingling with mine. "But I'm willing to give it to you," He says, his voice steady and warm like crackling embers to a recently put-out fire.

"As a friend-anniversary present?" I taunt him with a teasing smirk and he shakes his head.

"You don't know how to shut up do you?" He drawls and I smile.

"I can think of one way," I suggest, stumbling forward and his breath hitched as I rose onto my toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. I pulled back with a soft smile and that was enough to send him reeling. He advanced forward, his fingers singing with heat against my cheeks as his lips, finally, met mine.

It was innocent and gentle, and a little awkward, but gods was it perfect. The kiss alone heated my entire body, all the way down to my fingertips which were still clutching his green tunic. Realizing I was still gripping him I relaxed my hands and allowed them to slip up his chest, around to the nape of his neck so I could pull him closer and encase myself in his warmth while he deepened our kiss.

My stomach clenched when he pulled away, it was quick, only a moment— exactly what I had asked for. I hadn't realized I was now going to crave those moments until the end of me.

He looked at me, his cheeks flushed and I knew it wasn't the cold that tinged them. "You ruined my makeup," I say, reaching up and wiping away the smear of cosmetics on his bottom lip.

"But you look beautiful," He mumbled, too caught up in the action of me so casually touching his lips. I lift my eyes up to his gold-flecked ones and smile wickedly.

"That kiss really did a number on you," I taunt because it was the only way to stop myself from being greedy and kissing him again, and again, and again until I could recall the exact feel of his lips from memory.

He looked to the side, attempting to get rid of his blush, forget about how perfectly he slotted against you.

Then his brows bunch in concern and my spine stiffens with alarm. "What is it?" I ask, looking out towards the empty forest.

"Your dog already got lost." He grumbled and I relaxed, my shoulders slumping.

"He's your dog," I stress. "And he's not lost. He's hunting." I say proudly and Eris casts me an unbelieving glance. I smile at him and press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Come on," I take his hand in mine and drag him through the frosted-over forest. "We have to catch at least a few squirrels before leaving," I say and he mumbles a string of curses but follows me anyway.

We had been crouched behind a bush for so long now that my legs began to ache from my position. Eris was fletching an arrow leaning back against a tree, his auburn hair blending in with the trunk of the redwood. I admire his pale features, his sharp nose, and high cheekbones. His amber eyes that were flecked with gold if you were close enough to notice. I was just about to blurt something foolish about how handsome he was, when the crunch of snow sent my ears peeking up.

Eris froze too, becoming alert and peering over the side of the tree as I drew my arrow from its quiver and nocked it against my bowstring. The sound of steps comes from behind, straight at us, growing faster.

I whirl around and aim at the grey creature bounding towards Eris.

The smokehound pup trotted towards him with a limp rabbit in his maw. The hound chuffs then drops it at Eris' feet as an offering. "Aw, he's brought you a gift," I beam wildly. "You should turn the rabbit into jerky and treat him with it. He'd love that," I say while patting the pup's dark coat.

His gaze lingers on you for a long moment, analyzing your gentle features when you look at the dog. "Maybe I will," He mutters and I look over to him with a soft smile. "I think we're done for the day," I say and stand upright, stretching my legs as I do so. He does the same, the pup looking up at him with his tail wagging excitedly. Eris bent down and patted the dog's head and the hound began running circles around the both of us.

Eris shakes his head with feigned annoyance. I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him forward, right into me. His arms wrapped around my waist on instinct, stabilizing himself with his hands planted on my torso— and even through all the layers of clothing, I could feel the warmth emanating from him. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, right?" I tilt my head up at him and he nods with a soft smile.

"Mhm, bring Flynt," I say and he raises his brows.

"Is that his name, now?" He asks, looking down at the dog weaving between us happily.

"You said I could pick," I shrug innocently and his smile grows.

"Flynt it is," He nods, then leans forward and places a soft, precious kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Princess." He whispers against my frosty skin and I nod, taking a wobbly step back and turning away towards my Court before I got the idea in my head that I could find us an empty cabin to live in until we were old and rotting.

I don't bother with goodbyes and continue my march towards the Mountain Home. But I did look back, just once, to see Eris and his new obedient pet walking alongside each other back towards the realm of crackling bonfires and falling leaves.

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[jjoannii]

“Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered”

I had a vision and ran with it, I’m not sure I’ve executed it the way I would have liked to but here it is!

This took forever, I can’t even lie. Mostly because I kept getting distracted by the genuinely otherworldly fics that came out in the last week or so… ( @aggieharkness @madamspellmans-met-tet, you’re doing the lords work, if you ever need a kidney- I’m your girl. I mean it, I owe you both my life)

Also, thank you to darling @renafisher27 for just being the loveliest person in the world and telling me to keep going with this!! You are a sweet angel sent from the sky!!

(I can’t do hair and nor do I claim to be able to, so please just let it slide or I’ll cry xoxo)

[pacentia]

Title: Forever

Summary: After BG3 events, Astarion and reader feel ready for a child.

Pairing: established relationship fem!reader x Astarion

Tags: NSFW, rough sex, sweetness, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, bloodsucking, kissing, L-bombs

Word count: 1,704

Note: listen up folks. no idea if vampires thralls can make people pregnant. but in my world they can. Pls enjoy. i haven't finished the game, so this is my own fantasy after bg3 events:)). Drabble/fic/headcanon requests about our darling husband are welcome :))

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and eventually months into years, together with your darling Astarion. After the events of tadpoles, mindflayers and vampire masters, the time had come to settle down and live quietly, close to Baldur's gate city. Close enough for easy supply runs, yet far enough to enjoy the privacy of your very own house. Astarion was quick to realize he'd want no one else in his eternal life but you - and asked you - on one knee - to be his forever.

The wedding was held shortly after, with only a close circle of your friends present. Karlach shed a tear from happiness - knowing you two were destined to be together, while Halsin felt just… Bittersweet. Astarion wed a fine woman, although he was secretly convinced that an Druid like himself: alive, warm, and aging could take better care of your needs.

This was often also the subject of certain discussions that popped up in your marriage as you were reading in the garden, or drinking hot tea beside the hearthfire. Worries that washed over him about the coldness of his touch - or the eventual loss he would have to endure somewhere in the far future, when you would eventually lose the battle against time. You understood where his worries came from, but you were always there to comfort your darling husband. You possessed no interest in anyone's touch but his and you pledged to him that you'd always be present in his undead heart.

Of course, the latter made you interested in if his vampirism could be cured or, if you could transform into one. Yet, both choices were frustratingly impossible. Curing him would just mean ending him, heaven's forbid. Transforming yourself would mean serving another vampire lord, a fate that Astarion would never want you to experience.

Though tonight - nothing of that sort mattered and you found yourself intertwined in one another, the soft duvet covering your bare bodies. Your fingers played with his light-grey curls, while his arms were wrapped around your shoulders, ready for bed.

"Say, love," Astarion suddenly spoke up, "I heard you took care of a lost little girl in the city today."

Right. A young Tiefling girl had lost her mother inbetween the packed crowds of the city, and the girl came to you for help. How exactly did Astarion know that?

"Karlach told me of course." The vampire stated as a matter of fact. "She saw you and passed by this noon for tea." You nodded and explained the situation - how you held the little girl's hand right until you found her mother together. The woman thanked you over and over again.

A small silence fell between you two, until the man continued his stream of thoughts, "Karlach then asked me if we'd ever have children and I said that I didn't know what you would think of it and I -" Astarion's gaze avoided yours until he remembered he was probably rambling again, "Sorry love, I just wanted to know if you and I could have that sort of future together?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Astarion as a father. He'd definitely spoil his little ones and love them unconditionally.

"A little one to raise in our house." The pale man smiled, lost in his thoughts. "We already have a spare room that we could decorate for them."

Of course those thoughts had crossed your mind. It would be a new chapter in both of your lives, and you felt ready to take it on together with him. Behind his cheeky and often sarcastic banter, there was a sweet and caring man - only revealed to the closest ones he trusted.

"You know they'll be incredibly mischievous and stubborn, right?" You smirked up at him, to which the vampire quickly retaliated, "Darling, you wound me. Besides, that's why you're there to teach them kindness." Astarion sing-songed, nuzzling into your hair.

No hesitation was present in your words, '"Of course, Astarion. I want this with you." You smiled sweetly, gently guiding his cold digits over your belly, making your vampire husband rub it with such fondness.

Something within him stirred, yet another level of deeper protectiveness that he would soon feel over you. Any other man that would come too close to you, would feel his deadly fangs buried into their jugular. Rip them to shreds. Kill them in cold blood. In fact, it made him involuntarily bare his fangs to you, accompanied by a low growl reverberating in his chest.

You grinned at his primal reaction, and whispered as you caressed his chin, "Dear Sir, you know you can't drink anything from me when you've put your little one in me, right?"

He was taken by a frenzy, and rolled his heavy body over yours - his nose buried into your neck, inhaling the delicious smell of your perfect blood. His cock hardened at the thought of drinking from you, his icy tongue lapping over the countless bite marks that he'd decorated your neck with.

"I know, sweet love. Sadly, I'll have to return to …inferior blood." An adorable pout covered his beautiful features - which made your heart flutter.

"You should get to work then, my love." You whispered in his pointy ear, pressing small kisses along his cheekbone, and you wrapped your legs around his strong back. The vampire chuckled at your words, "Oh, darling." He groaned, elated to see you so eager to get bred by him. His hardness teased over your wet and warm folds, making himself slick before he'd slide home. His arms snaked under yours, to completely wrap himself around you protectively, burying his face into your neck. The intoxicating smell of your blood so close to his lips, made him lose control over his pace and bucked his strong core into yours, drenched cock sliding deep in your sex.

"Fuck, Astarion…" You gasped in pleasure, his large cock burying itself deep deep deep within your folds. The vampire watched your features contort into pure bliss, and bit his lips in return - until he was nestled as deep as possible.

"This is what you want, isn't it, my darling?" Astarion whispered, while you clawed at his back - sweet agony from his pressure on your cervix. His way with words was too much to bear. Icy lips found your ear again, dripping with sin, "Completely inside your warm, wet, delicious cunt."

You could only whimper Astarion and nod, your fingers buried in his soft curls, as his hips started to gently, slowly thrust inside you. His cock felt so perfect. Big, firm, as if he was carved just for you.

"Fuck, darling," Your husband growled, losing himself deep inside you, speeding up his pace, shifting his position so that he could hold onto your hips for leverage. His red eyes feasted on your body, the most beautiful creature he'd ever set his gaze on. He could hear your heart beating faster. Blood pumping through your veins. Cheeks flushed red. He was salivating for you.

"Please, Astarion…" You cried out in delicious agony, needy for him to grab and fuck you harder. Impregnate you. Show Faerûn that you completely belong to him.

"What is it, my love?" He growled with bared teeth, sounds of wet, sloppy thrusts filling the bedroom.

"Bite me once more." You begged, holding onto his strong shoulders, "Just one last time, please."

Yes. One more time he could have you. His sanguine hunger kicked in, and he couldn't restrain himself anymore, "Oh my, darling…" He moaned In relief, his thrusts never faltering, thanking you over and over again for your gift - until he set his fangs in your neck.

One last time that sharp, ice-cold feeling washed over your senses - unable to move or do anything. Delicious pain mixed with heavenly pleasure, both of your orgasms were nearing. No combination more delicious for your husband - your fresh blood spilling from his lips and your cunt wrapped tightly around him. Pleasure welled up inside of your belly, enduring your vampire's violent kiss - until you reached your peak while he drank from your neck.

His digits dug into the sheets, pupils dilated as he released from your neck in time, overcome with adrenaline and power.

"That's it, my darling…"

His thrusts became harder, faster - his bloody lips finding yours, tongue invading your mouth. You were absolutely spent already, having lost nearly two pints of your blood again - so you held onto him for dear life. The metallic taste of your blood made you nearly gag if he wasn't lapping it up off your lips like a hungered animal.

"Astarion, fuck… Make me fucking pregnant." You cried desperately against his lips, his big cock bumping against your cervix with each thrust. And like always, he delivered your plea - and with a deep and primal groan he reached his peak. "Fuck, oh - Fuck - darling!" He growled with bloody fangs, his crimson eyes rolling in the back of his head, jets of his release splattering right against your cervix. Filled up to the brim.

Sated with blood and pleasure, he collapsed on top of you, holding you dearly in the afterglow of your pleasure. Sweaty, bloody bodies pressed against each other. His face buried against the side of your neck, lapping remnants of your blood one last time.

"Can't get enough of it, can't you, sweet?" You grinned.

"Never, my love." He smiled against your flesh as his cold hand gently caressed your lower belly - hoping that his love would nestle itself deep inside of you tonight.

"I love you, Astarion."

"And I love you, my darling. Forever."