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#Tw injuries
sp0o0kylights · 8 months
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Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 
A03
Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 
Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 
Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 
More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 
 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.
Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 
Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 
He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 
(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 
He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 
"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 
Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.
Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 
Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."
"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.
"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 
Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 
Would Harrington pitch a fit? 
Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 
Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 
Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 
Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 
Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.
"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 
Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 
"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  
"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.
The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 
"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.
He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 
"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 
A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 
How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…
He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 
"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 
He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 
There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 
Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 
Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."
Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 
The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."
'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'
Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."
"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 
He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 
He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.
 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 
"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."
Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.
Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 
A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.
(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)
A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.
"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.
No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.
Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 
He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 
Several somethings, in fact. 
"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 
"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 
Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 
An unfair advantage, really. 
‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 
Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.
"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 
Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.
Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 
"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 
Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.
 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 
"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 
It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.
Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 
Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 
Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.
"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 
"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"
Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 
He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 
"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 
"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 
Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 
"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 
Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink.��
"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 
"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.
Judged.
Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 
Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 
"Anybody else?" He asked. 
"Nobody human." Steve replied. 
"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 
He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.
"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 
Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 
He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 
The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 
With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 
All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 
Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 
The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 
Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 
"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.
Steve blinked. "Uh…" 
"You take any today son?" 
Steve his head. 
"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 
Course he hadn't. 
"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.
Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 
He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 
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imactuallyreallycool · 5 months
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Day 1 of @bylerween2023 Ghosts & Hauntings
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abbeyofcyn · 7 months
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Wretched little pests AU
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Character designs for an AU I'm working on with @spacemimz @noxvee6 ❤️💙💜🧡
@wretched-little-pests-au
Since we're with the three of us we spun a wheel to decide who would design Raph as well and I was the chosen one~
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yesloulou · 1 month
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Drive to Survive Season 6, Episode 9
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tsubaki94 · 17 days
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Here's another for the Gore category, Janitors Closet.
It's another lineart for @green-with-envy-phandom-event where I may have gone a bit overboard with the background. Oh well, can't wait to see how this will be colored.
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sarathrwizard · 1 month
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Sarathrwizard's Master post
This is a place holder to make it easier to find my comics!
I Care:
---Chapter 1--- Part 1 Part 2
---Chapter 2--- Part 1 Part 2
---Chapter 3--- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
---Chapter 4--- Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5? Part 6?
Out of the Blue:
First Latest
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feriowind · 2 years
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PART 1
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An offering to the Kraken goes awry. ---
PART 2   PART 3    PART 4    PART 5 __ started doing a comic to practice drawing fight scenes but it got out of hand LOL, this is part 1, part 2 & 3 will be up next week or 2.
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neuronflyeater · 10 months
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warning blood and injuries!!
fanart for dream's end come true yuo should read it now
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whump-about-it · 2 months
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Constant Pain
@febuwhump Day 5: Rope Burns.
CW: angst, description of injuries, dissociation.
"Whumpee, those are never going to heal if you don't stop touching them."
Whumpee startled out of their mindless stupor to find Caretaker leaning on the door frame watching them with an expression of concern. Their eyes were flickering between Whumpee's sallow face and their hands, which they had in their lap, each picking absently at the scabbed rope burns on the opposite wrists.
"Sorry," Whumpee murmured and moved their hands to either side of their legs. This wasn't the first time Caretaker had caught them picking at the scabs, or the first time they had cautioned them about re-opening the wounds. "They just..."
Whumpee let their voice trail off. They couldn't tell Caretaker the rope burns still hurt. They couldn't explain why they hurt so much. Whumpee had so many other injuries that reasonably should have bothered them more. They couldn't put weight on one of their legs. There was a six inch gash in the back of their head that had required being stapled. Their were bruises around their neck had made breathing so uncomfortable that they had developed a chest infection by the time they were rescued. The welts on their back hadn't healed yet, and they couldn't move to much for fear of ripping the multitude of stitches all over their body. Yet, despite all of that, the rope burns, the most innocuous of their injuries, hurt the most.
Actually, that all made sense to Whumpee. When they had been rescued, Caretaker had told them Whumper had held them for a little over month. But it had felt like a year. Every day had been different. New pain. New torture. New fear. Nothing had remained the same day to day. Nothing Whumpee could look forward to or dreed. Not even food or water. In that whole time the only constant had been the rope. Their hands had been tied the whole time.
The rope burns had been Whumpee's first injuries. Their oldest and deepest. And the ones that they had cried over the most, hopelessly trying to wriggle their way out of their bonds and watching blood trickle into their useless hands. Of course those wounds hurt the most. But how were they supposed to say that? How were they supposed to explain in?
Whumpee nearly jumped out of their skin when Caretaker brushed their uninjured knee. They were now kneeling in front of Whumpee, looking even more concerned than they had before. Whumpee hadn't noticed they were dissociating again.
"Is everything okay?" Caretaker asked gently.
"Yes." Whumpee lied. "They itch. My wrists. They itch and I keep forgetting not to touch them."
"I know."
They both knew Caretaker was lying too.
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awkwardosthe3rd · 1 year
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Tried to have some fun with grayscale sketching today
vaguely homoerotic violence? Idk
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newtabfics · 2 months
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soft astarion getting sentimental during sex after a rough battle and ends up being extremely touchy and loving but he's totally "i don't like you. you're crazy. that's silly" still
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"Not Like I Did Yesterday." Summary: Tav gets badly hurt which makes Astarion realize a few things suddenly. He can't quite explain it but in that moment, he knows it's her he needs. Takes place after Tiefling Party before Act 2 because I love the Underdark and is lightly inspired by the lyrics from "I Don't Love You" by MCR. Triggers for Canon Typical Violence. Some Angst. Frantic/Needy Smut. Spoilers for Astarion's story quest.
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"Shit!" He hissed as his arrows ran out. "I'm empty!" He announced to the others as the monster closed in on him.
He tensed as he gripped his blade. He was ready to fight to his last breath if he had to.
Then a stone struck the beast in the face, cutting its vulture-like face before hissing in her direction.
Astarion felt a coldness wash over him as the beast charged and swung.
The Hook Horror tossed Tav aside like a ragdoll. Her body was beaten and broken as she tried pushing herself up, squinting at the monster as it charged at her.
There was a roar that she couldn't quite make out.
She barely saw the flash of white before Astarion was on the creature.
"Oh shit," Shadowheart said, seeing Astarion losing it as he attacked the monster. "Tav!" She called out. "Get away from him!"
Tav shuddered as she pushed herself up slowly as the rest of the group eliminated the rest of the monsters. Astarion kept stabbing at the dead beast beneath him.
"Astarion," She called out to him, staggering.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Shadowheart barked out.
"Stop," Karlach said firmly. "She's got this."
The two watched as their leader staggered towards Astarion. She hobbled as her eyes focused on him.
He was plunging the blade down again. His back heaved as his soft growls could be heard.
He was losing himself.
Gotta help him, She thought to herself as her legs buckled. She collapsed into him as she hugged him tight from behind.
His arm froze in the air.
His breath came in broken shudders.
Her scent flooded him.
She's here…She's alive, He repeated as he lost its grip on the knife.
The metal clattered to the ground as he slumped in her hold, hands gripping her arms tight. Alive, he told himself again as he let out a shaky breath.
"You're okay," She whispered into his shoulder before her body went limp.
Astarion's eyes widened when Tav suddenly dropped to the ground beside him. "D-Darling?" He asked as he turned to her.
Shadowheart hurried over in that moment, focused on healing their leader. 
Tav was blinking hard, looking a bit dizzy. She was alive. "I'm okay," She mumbled.
"The hell you are!" Shadowheart snapped. "That was reckless! I don't care that he's an ally. When a vampire goes feral like that, don't fucking touch them!"
Tav grimaced and gave her a look. "I wasn't gonna let him lose his mind!" She defended.
Astarion could only watch as the two bickered while the cleric healed her. His heart thudded wildly as she looked annoyed by the woman's scolding. When her eyes met his, she smiled softly and crossed her eyes in mock irritation.
He couldn't help the soft laugh that escaped him as the action earned her another scolding.
Tav carefully got up with Shadowheart's help, stumbling forward. His arms were there to catch her, holding her upright as she sighed.
"You should carry her!" Karlach beamed. "Like a princess!"
Tav blushed as the vampire almost immediately complied and lifted her. She looked up at him and hummed. "Not gonna lie; this is new."
He studied her as his hands tightened on her. 
"Let's get back to camp," Shadowheart sighed. "You need rest."
She nodded in response as Astarion carried her the whole way.
The silence wasn't deafening but it was worrying for her. She watched him practically stare off into space as he carried her to safety.
As soon as they'd arrived at camp, Tav was hounded with questions of her well-being to the point she asked Astarion to set her down. He was hesitant to do so but when Halsin brought her his cushion to sit on, he amended.
He waited patiently, studying her.
She's alive.
It was like he needed to keep reminding himself of this.
His heart ached as he watched her be healed. Why did it irritate him to see Halsin healing her? That's what he's good for. For healing!
She was smiling at Wyll as he playfully messed with her hair. When did they get all friendly?
He knew she was good friends with him but what about him?
Tav blinked when Astarion suddenly stormed towards his tent. 
The sun had set when Astarion heard the tent flap move. His eyes, trained at the ceiling of his tent, slid over to Tav as she sat beside him, looking down at him. Her hair fell from the ponytail, messily framing her face as she looked down at him.
She gave him a gentle smile. "Hey."
"...hey." he raised himself to his elbows. "You alright? Everything still…fully functioning?"
Tav smiled at his awkward question. Nodding, she said, "Yeah. I'm okay."
A beat of silence passed between them before she slowly asked, "Are…you alright?"
"Yeah, yeah. Good. Great."
She watched his jaw clench as his fingers drummed on his knee nervously. The vampire was avoiding her eyes. Heart thudding in his chest as he tried to think of how to begin.
Should he apologize? Explain himself? Did he need to do something? 
He had to say something, for certain. 
He inhaled sharply as he tried to speak quickly.
"Astarion–"
"Darling, I–"
They stopped as their voices overlapped. Tav giggled softly as he looked away with a smile. Another pause settled before he finally took a deep breath.
"I don't know what happened. I saw you and…and I lost it," he sighed. "I've never blacked out like that. And…when you collapsed…"
Tav watched him for a moment before cupping his face. "Hey," she said gently. She turned his eyes to her.
His heart lurched up into his throat as he studied her features. She was alive, his mind whispered again.
"Darling," he finally breathed as he leaned in and kissed her.
It felt…different somehow, he realized as he laid her back into his bedding. Her fingers tangled into his hair like that first night. She was kissing him sweetly, just as greedy as him.
That's all this is, he tried to tell himself. It's only physical. She gives blood. He gives orgasms—a fair trade.
Except this wasn't an exchange.
Tav's hands cupped his face, pulling him closer and protecting him almost as he frantically shed her clothing.
His ruby eyes scanned over her body. He bent, licking and kissing at every bruise on her body from the fight. Every scratch or scar he could find was vulnerable to his mouth.
She gasped out breathless moans as she gripped his hair, scrambling helplessly to reach his belt.
"Not yet," he whispered against her stomach as he kissed down, pulling her trousers with him. "Need this."
Her cheeks went hot as she watched his kiss along her inner thigh. His teeth lightly nipped, fangs pressed gently near the artery.
Tav gulped and nodded her consent and he was diving in.
His tongue lavished desperately over her clit. His soft moan made her gasp as he suckled on the bud eagerly. 
"Still so fucking delicious," he groaned, tongue flicking gently.
"Fuck, Star," she gasped out, gripping the blanket beneath her. His hand was splaying over her stomach as fingers prodded at her entrance.
His body shuddered as he pressed himself against her leg. He bit his lip as he pumped and curled his fingers before adjusting to sit up. His eyes were trained on her face as he watched her writhing from his touch.
"That's it, Darling," He whispered encouragingly. His eyes darted to her hands gripping the blankets. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked.
Tav felt her body heat as his eyes flicked up to hers. They were full of challenge and desire. "I…"
She blushed when he pulled her hand into his hair, nuzzling her thigh gently. "You're supposed to be gripping it," He murmured before licking lazily at her folds. "Supposed to be clinging to me like before. Darling."
He sounded breathless and needy as he kissed up her body. He watched her melting under him as her hand slid from his hair and to his face. Then, she sat up and kissed him gently.
His hands trembled as he gripped her waist as she held his face to hers. "Star," She whispered against his lips before her hands scrambled to tug at his shirt as her cheeks went hotter. "Don't make me beg for you."
"Why not?" He asked. It had meant to be a taunt, but it sounded little more than a desperate whine. "You sound so pretty when you do."
Clothes were shed and tossed aside in the tent. She gasped as he pressed in. His hand threaded with hers, pinning it by her head. 
His ruby eyes kept watching her, taking her in.
Tav lay there, flushed and clutching his hand and bicep. She was whimpering for him. "S-Star, please."
"Fucking beautiful."
Every movement felt too intense, too desperate. Their breaths mingled as he kissed her. His free hand, once gripping her thigh greedily with every thrust, tangled into her hair.
His tongue slid along hers. His cock pressed into her, rubbing everywhere she needed it to. His hips refused to move away from her, keeping him deep inside.
Her eyes watered as he bent and kissed her neck. His face was pressed against her skin as his hand tugged lightly at her hair.
"Tav," He whispered, shaking now.
Too intense. Too much. 
Everything inside him screamed with confusion as he let himself get lost in her. Her sweet gasps in an attempt to keep quiet. Her scent. The sound of her heart pumping wildly.
She bit her lip when his tongue licked up along the vein and teeth pressed gently in the bruised bite marks from his last feeding. She braced…but nothing.
His teeth simply gripped at her as he whimpered softly into her ear, making her shiver. It was so unlike that first night. He was gasping softly now and then but his moans were like a symphony.
A practiced one.
"Shit, ah," He whispered against her skin. "Darli…Tav."
That did her in. Her back arched up and he held her tight to him, topping into the orgasm with her. His lips crushed against hers as he shuddered and clung to her.
Alive, His mind whispered before fading entirely in the fog of pleasure.
A long moment passed as the kiss grew gentler, bodies trembling still. Tav's eyes blinked up at him as she smiled affectionately to him.
"Did I scare you that bad?" She teased lightly.
His cheeks flushed a slight as he cleared his throat. "No?" His eyes darted from hers as she giggled, still high on the euphoria.
Her hand slid up to cup his face, pulling him close. "Admit you like me," She whispered to him.
Anxiety flickered through him as he smirked. "I'll never admit a damned thing to you," He said playfully as he watched her eyes flutter. "You need your rest. You took quite the beating today."
"Worth it," She hummed, smiling.
"How?" He asked as he pulled away carefully. He frowned as she curled into him. "Tav, my bedding isn't quite comfortable for you–"
"You are," she hummed, resting her head on his shoulder.
He blinked, watching her. "I'm comfortable?" He asked slowly.
His frown made her smile as she cuddled herself closer to him. She hummed softly in confirmation. "And worth it."
His heart stuttered again.
He's worth it. He's worth…her injuries.
Before he could respond, she was sound asleep against his shoulder.
He held her, idly drawing circles on her back and petting her hair to ensure she slept soundly. He could slip into his trance, reflect a bit but…
Looking down at her, he realized that would mean a bit of time from her. Time alone. The thought of slipping away in that moment filled him with a strange dread.
Instead, he lingered on his thoughts, holding her sleeping body to him as a comfort for himself.
It took a long while for him, cycling through his memories, his feelings, everything this woman made him feel.
Her japes.
Her taunts.
The way she rolled her eyes affectionately at his wise cracks about their companions.
The way she laughed at his jokes.
The way she listened to him.
The way she was.
She was alive.
And he wanted her.
Panic began to rise in his chest as he glanced down at her. She looked so peaceful. So blissfully unaware of his thoughts.
With a shaky breath, he decided to push this down. This was just a fluke. It had to be. It couldn't be anything else.
It was just a fluke.
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a-v-j · 9 months
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XD
Blood and injuries warning =)
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imactuallyreallycool · 5 months
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Day 2 of @bylerween2023 Slashers, Gore & Body Horror
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justanidiotartist · 3 months
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Did a gory version of my sona
Other versions under the cut
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Really like this one ^
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The End
(click for better quality)
³ᴰ ᵐᵒᵈᵉˡ ᵖᵒʳᵗ ᵇʸ ᴰᵃᶻ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ᴿᵉⁿᵈᵉʳʰᵘᵇ
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trashland-llamas · 3 months
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Exsanguination
x female reader
Y/n was damn near unconscious with the amount of blood that had been taken from her. The residential blood bag of the establishment. Any vampire could take their fill for a hefty fee. But as y/n was desperate for cash, she tended to let the patrons push her way past her limits. Blood trailing down her neck as she wavered, hit with a sudden moment of dizziness. ‘Hello there, darling.’ An unknown pair of hands held onto her waist, letting her catch her bearings. Not knowing that the elf had come to lure her away from her current predicament. Walking her towards a dark corner of the tavern. 
‘No, no, I’m not here for that.’ He brushed y/n off when she exposed her neck to him. The elf felt disgusted at the plethora of wounds littering her neck. ‘Do you have a room here?’ Unsure if she’d feel comfortable going to the camp he had sat up on the outskirts of town. ‘Well then, fancy coming back to mine?’ 
‘S’not how this works.’ Her words were almost unintelligible. ‘Not for food, rather a break from all this. Wouldn’t it be nice to let all those heal?’ Referencing how some of the more older wounds had reopened with how rough the patrons treated her. With the amount of time they had spent sitting, y/n would be fit for the walk back. ‘...sure, but can you at least tell me your name? Y’know, stranger danger and whatnot.’ 
‘Astarion, pleasure to meet you. And what’s yours lovely?’
‘Y/n.’ 
‘I can walk!’ Y/n quickly wrapped her hands around his neck when Astarion suddenly picked her up. One arm supporting her back and the other under her knees. ‘On an average day, I’m certain you can. But you’ve been stumbling and tripping over your own two feet, which I’m not surprised with the amount of blood loss you’ve experienced.’ 
‘Oh, don’t pout. Wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t absolutely necessary for your well-being.’ Astarion got caught up in thinking he almost missed the fact he had arrived back at camp. Questioning why he felt so protective of her. He assumes it because she reminded him of the own helplessness he felt under Cazador. He didn’t miss the way she flinched every time a patron bit into her flesh. Nor did he miss the pained sound that fell from her lips. One that told him she didn’t do the job out of pleasure.
Astarion rearranges the futon and cushions into a more comfortable setup for y/n to rest on. Rummaging for what first aid supplies he had stored, accustomed to mending his own injuries. Utilizing cotton swabs to wipe away the dried blood from the puncture marks. ‘Sorry, love. Trying to make this as painless as I can, promise.’ 
‘Can’t really do anything for the bruising.’ Astarion spoke, wiping his hands free of a salve akin to Neosporin. A white bandage taped to her neck after he had to gently swat her hand away from scratching.  ‘S’fine.’
‘Should probably get some sleep. Can talk more in the morning, whether you want to stay with me longer.'
‘Okay, g’night Astarion.’ He hoped y/n remembered their interactions thus far. He didn’t particularly care for rude awakenings. Deciding to keep watch over y/n as she slept. Enjoying the feeling of y/n cradled up to him, her head against his chest. Rubbing circles along her back where the shirt he’d leant bunched up. Astarion’s cold hand was the perfect contrast to her feverish skin. ‘Sweet dreams y/n.’ 
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