#and then I'll play bloody palace | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kasagia · 1 year

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I'll be back for you

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x reader, Kaz Brekker x reader Summary: The Moon Summoner ran away with Alina from the Little Palace with the help of Kaz Brekker's crows. The group successfully escaped from Darkling's hands, but that doesn't mean he will forget about his Y/N. He's going to chase her until she is in his arms again. However, Mr. Brekker did not let his childhood friend disappear without a trace from his life again. He will protect her. For all costs. After all, she was his newest investment. Warning(s): Darkling, Kaz fights haphephobia (but not as severe for him ), reader argues with Baghra, reader has internal moral conflict, curses, fights, and their red aftermath, I used a quote from TVD and The Invisible Life of Addie Laurie because… they fit and I love them veeery much It's my first one-shot for both Darkling and Kaz, so please be gentle (I'm very nervous and excited at the same time to publish it) <3 Word count: 14k (too long, someone should take me away from the keyboard in the middle of this)

~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 (end) ~•♤♤♤•~

Every night since you escaped with Alina and Genya with the help of your childhood friend Kaz and his crows from Ravka, you've been haunted by nightmares. No. Not the usual horrible flashbacks of your past in Ketterdam or the Little Palace.

HE visited you.

The Darkling. The Black Heretic. The man who promised to keep your heart safe and broke it in two along with your trust.

Genya has a right to warn you about powerful men. But you, the lost girl kidnapped by slave hunters from Ketterdam, the girl who has nothing to lose and was happy enough to somehow end up in the general's tent and find out about being one of the most powerful Grisha, didn't want to listen to her.

You foolishly believed that you, of all people, were able to charm the most dangerous man in all Ravka with your beauty, character and mind.

You believed that sweet words, longing glances and tender moments between you were real, that they meant something.

But it was all just a game. A game that brought him your affection and blind trust. And Kirigan, Darkling, or Alexander played in it like mastermind.

You should have listened to Genya. At least those damn dark eyes wouldn't haunt you every time you closed yours.

With the taste in men you have, you should have predicted that the first guy you hooked up with would be a psychopath. Fate could only be a little bit more favorable to you and not connect you to the hundreds-year-old black heretic who created the fold.

You've always had a weakness for villains and gray characters.

Your first teenage crush only proved it.

Because who else but you would fall in love with a bastard boy from the barrel who started his criminal career with the Dregs, who couldn't stand the touch of other people, and who wanted nothing more in his life than revenge on Pekka Rollins?

If I survive this shit, I really should find someone normal to be with.

You thought before you somehow managed to fall asleep for the first time in a month, hoping that your bond with the Darkling would weaken for those few hours when you tried to find peace.

~•♤♤♤•~

It was pure darkness around you. Not that one when all the lights went out and it's only you and your bed. No. They felt too familiar for you to confuse them with anything else. Those were his shadows.

He must have been near, playing with you as he always had.

You carefully took one step forward. The shadows parted in front of you, so you could see the ground. You bent down to your boot and pulled out a dagger, hiding it behind the sleeve of your blouse. You had to be ready for anything. Even if it meant fighting the shadow lord himself in your own subconscious. You sighed, stepping uncertainly into the darkness.

Your eyes quickly adjusted to the place around you, allowing you to move faster along the path. You recognized this bloody spot. The path in the woods you raced down when he took you for your first ride. Then he dragged you to HIS fountain, telling you nonsense about how it's only here among other Grishas that you discover your true self. He was already weaving his manipulative web around you, and you fell into it like an oblivious fly.

The snap of a twig stopped you. You looked around, not seeing anything at all except for the fountain in the distance. You flinched as his shadows gently pushed you forward.

"I'm not going to play another of your games, General!" you screamed as you spun around, walking forward. If he was already disturbing you, at least he might have had the honor to step out of the shadows.

"Call me Aleksander…"

You shivered as you felt his soft whisper against your neck. You spun, summoning your light and shooting into the space behind you. Unfortunately, it didn't encounter any Black Heretics on its way.

You huffed angrily, continuing your walk until you reached the fountain.

It was different than when he brought you here last time. The engravings have changed. They no longer told the story of the Black Heretic who created the fold. They were of you and Aleksander. Slowly falling in love.

"The union of darkness and his light." you felt your body tremble as the fabric of his kefta brushed your hand.

"I would never have taken you for such a sentimental fool." you turned to face him, taking a step back to increase the distance between you. With a very smug smirk, you noticed that he had dark circles under his eyes. Good. At least the son of a bitch suffers as much as you do. "Especially not after what Baghra had told me."

"My mother has the amazingly irritating gift of ruining my plans. She also doesn't like the people I care about much."

"Hmm… what a pity. Maybe if you weren't planning to use us as weapons in your plans, I'd care more. Also, don't try to tell me that there are people in this world who are more important to you than yourself. We both know I'm not going to fall for it again."

"I understand your resentment." you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief as you turned your gaze back to the fountain. "What's so funny?" you relished every irritated word directed at you. Maybe you couldn't seriously hurt him physically, but at least you could be a pain in his ass.

"I just forgot how easy it is for you to choose words that both tell the truth and work in your favor. Please, continue. I didn't truly laugh for a very long time."

"You're making a mistake." he stood next to you, grabbing your arm to turn you toward him.

You yanked your arm out of his grip as soon as your powers met in that familiar dance of dark and light. You both sighed, stunned by the sudden combination of your powers coursing through your veins. You opened your eyes, which you closed in the flow of the moment, meeting his tender, longing gaze. The man reached out to cup your cheek, but you pulled away from him before your skin had a chance to touch again.

"Funny. That's what I heard from your mother before she made me realize what shit I got into."

"One conversation with my mother, and you're ready to give it all up? Just because she was faster than me? Because she revealed a truth about me that she had no right to? What if I wanted to tell you right after I dealt with the group that wanted to attack you and Miss Starkov?" the grudge in his eyes only fueled your anger. He had no right to resent you for running away from him at the earliest opportunity when he had been hiding this important piece of his past for so long.

"What does it matter, general? None of it was real anyway." you growled, turning your back on him again so as not to reveal your hidden emotions to him. You didn't want him to know that you still cared. Indifference was a worse punishment for him than your wrath.

"So c'mon. Prove your point. Turn around, look me in the eyes, and tell me that you didn't feel anything towards me for even the slightest moment."

You wanted. You really did. To look directly into his soul-black eyes and say that he meant as much to you as the dust under your shoes. However, you both knew very well that it would be just a poor lie. And you both knew each other well enough to know when the other was lying.

"Just because my foolish heart longs for something, it doesn't mean I'll give in to its stupid desires. Wasn't you the one who told me that wanting makes us weak?"

"You should know I've changed my mind by now." the sound of leaves crunching under his boots was the only warning you got before you felt his presence behind you. "You. You are changing my mind."

"Don't tell me I have any influence over you. It's a poor play. You can do better, Kirigan."

"You and I may change the world, Y/N…" you flinched as you heard the exact same words he said here so many months ago. You turned to face him when you felt the coldness of one of his shadows wrapping around your leg. You pointed your dagger at the man standing only one, little step away from you. He didn't seem affected at all as you pointed the dagger at him. He didn't even look at it. His eyes were only on yours. "You may not see it now, too blinded by your righteous, but not entirely fair, anger at me, but deep down, you know that we are destined for greater things than others. You, me, and Alina together can be the strongest creatures in the world."

"You know very well that we never wanted to live like this. Neither of us."

"Do you? Alina maybe doesn't want to be the Saint, but you, Y/N?" you took a step back and another as the black heretic approached you with his every word. He stood in front of you, letting the dagger you were holding in your trembling hands touch his chest. He smiled almost mockingly, seeing that your weapon against him was exactly the same one he gave you on your birthday, provoking your anger again. To spite him, you summoned wispy beams of white light that began to radiate from your hand to chase away his shadows.

"You don't know what I want." you growled, pressing the dagger harder against his heart to remind him that you were in control here. He could sneak into your dreams, but at night you were the most powerful Grisha in this bloody world. And even he had to reckon with your power.

"Yet I still see a desire in your eyes." you shifted your gaze to him, watching him silently and with hostility as his face was illuminated only by your powers. You were disgusted to find that, despite his betrayal, he was still equally handsome to you. "Not only for me but also for my power. You, my little moonlight, you want to be just like me. Strong, powerful, and ageless." he raised his hand deftly, dodging your dagger, and, under your watchful gaze, brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek as he did so. He took a step towards you, causing you to press the blade against his neck as he got close enough to whisper in your ear. "You can run as far as you want, but you don't run from the truth that's inside you. And when you finally understand what you really want, I'll be there for you, waiting with open arms for my saint moon."

"Have fun waiting for this day, Morozova." you whispered, not giving in to his piercing gaze.

"I am a very patient man, after a thousand years on this earth, you will be too, Y/L/N."

"I'm not you, Aleksander. I don't wanna live forever, and I'm not gonna. I won't see the only people I truly love and care about die before me. Even eternity and unimaginable power are not worth it."

"They're still people you love and who can share this fate with you. Who will live long enough to be with you forever." one of his shadows began to wrap around your hand, forcing you to remove the dagger from his neck.

He leaned closer to you and rested his forehead against yours. You sighed, shivering as the scent of his familiar perfume enveloped you after so many weeks apart. You were tempted to give in to him again. And that dark desire in your heart terrified you more than the capabilities of the Black Heretic caressing your cheek.

"This isn't love. It was just a game. We were just playing a game. The same one you created a long time ago to earn my trust. But I'm no longer that naive girl who is desperate for somebody's attention and love. You made me stronger, crueler, ruthless. And believe me, general, I'll repay you for all you have done."

"You don't believe that. You can't have believed my mother that I am your villain so easily." in other circumstances, where your heart wasn't beating for his, you'd probably laugh at the desperation in his voice. But now that every fiber of you longed for the man before you, there was only one thing you could do.

"Then tell me, Aleksander..." you leaned in to him, rubbing his nose with yours as he closed his eyes and waited for your lips to finally touch after weeks of craving your slightest touch. "Why was I so tempted to do this?" you dug into his tempting mouth, giving you both what you needed.

In your head, you explained this crime against your friends as wanting to do what was originally intended to be your primary goal. The gentle prolongation of your longing, amazing, desperate kiss before you plunged the dagger into his side without the slightest hesitation wasn't your fault at all. Aleksander moaned into your lips, pulling away from you as he felt blood trickle down his side.

"Leave me alone, or I will make myself your villain." you whispered into his mouth before you somehow managed to get yourself out of your "dream".

~•♤♤♤•~

"Y/N?" Alina's soft whisper wakes you up. You opened your eyes, feeling how your chest was burning for fresh air and your heart beating faster than it should. The woman was sitting next to you, holding your hand.

In the corner of your eye, you can see Nina standing in the doorway of the room Kaz graciously assigned to you after you arrived in Ketterdam. You can swear on saints that Inej was looking through your window before she went - probably going to tell Kaz about your fourth nightmare this week.

And it was only Tuesday.

You felt attacked from all sides. If not Inej through the window, then the madmen through the door or in your dreams.

"What are you doing here? It's well after midnight." you asked her, gratefully accepting a towel from Nina to wipe the sweat from your face. Alina and Genya lived far from the club, in motels on opposite sides of the city.

"Just in case someone betrays us. At least one of you will save yourself if the Darkling comes to these parts."

Brekker's brilliant and preventive mind had already terrified you before you stepped off the boat onto the familiar land of Ketterdam. The fact that he thought through and arranged your accommodation before anyone could ask him was either another display of his otherworldly mind or a blatant act of arrogance and overconfidence in his strength against the Darkling. But you knew Kaz too well to assume that he underestimated the power of the Black Heretic even for a moment.

"Nice to see you too. Kaz sent for me."

"Since when does the sun summoner do all the Dreg king's orders?" you asked, making Nina laugh.

"Since the moon summoner is constantly skipping her bedtime. You have to sleep. You can't always be on Jesper's special energetic drinks." she scolded you like a little child, to which you snorted indignantly.

"I will take a gorgeous, lovely, very long nap right after we kill Kirigan. Before then, nobody can make me do that. And tell Kaz I remembered him as braver the last time we saw each other on your way back to the motel."

"We are just worried about you, Y/N. You slept the whole night only once since we left."

"Don't tell me you're surprised. If you were me, you would do the same."

"Maybe. But we both know you're stronger than me. I know you can beat him, and even if you can't do this alone, which I doubt…" she wrapped her hand around yours, making you look into her eyes again. "You must know I will always be by your side, like you by mine. It's you and me against the darkness, Y/N."

"You know, you've spent way too much time on that boat with your toughts. You sound like an old uncle giving good advice or something."

"Speaking of advice, if I were you, I wouldn't insult the only person who can wake you up from… this." Nina waved her hand in a circle, pointing to the miserable state you were in.

"You should see Kirigan. I stabbed him." you replied with a self-satisfied smirk, watching the heartrender gasp in shock and Alina shake her head in disapproval.

"What have I told you about starting unnecessary arguments with him and maiming him?"

"That this is a good way to vent my anger and frustration?" you asked innocently with a huge smile.

Alina drew breath to argue with you, but a knock on the door distracted her. You glanced at Jesper, peering into your room, and wrinkled your nose at the light-burnt sheets you and Alina had left.

"The boss wants you, moon girl."

"Not only him." you murmured, pulling the remnants of the quilt from yourself. You took your clothes out of the closet and turned to the people in the room with your hands on your hips. "Are you leaving or staying for the show?" Alina mumbled a silent apology, blushing in embarrassment as she left, along with a laughing Jesper and an amused Nina.

You sighed as you stood in front of the mirror and brushed away the sweaty hair that was stuck to your face. Thanks to Inej and Kirigan, it looks like you'll have a long conversation with Kaz about your safety again. Your friend was sometimes a bigger pain in the ass than you—an achievement that wasn't granted by you to just anyone.

"I just fucking hope you're writhing in pain right now." you muttered to yourself, not believing for a moment in the sincerity of what you just said.

~•♤♤♤•~

"You wanted me." you entered the Dirtyhands' office without knocking, taking a place of honor on one of the two comfortable armchairs in the room. Kaz didn't look up from his papers, but the slight crease of irritation on his forehead told you he had noticed your presence. You were surprised that, after years of separation, you could still read him easily. "It's rude to ignore your guest."

"It's rude to come in without knocking." he replied to your provocation, tracing something he had just written. You snorted in amusement, seeing that you managed to distract him.

"Well, I didn't come here for no reason. You sent Jes for me."

"Jes?" a diminutive you used for his sharpshooter, has earned the man's attention. He gave you a questioning look, throwing the papers on his desk.

"What? Can't I make a friend other than you?"

"I'm your boss." he hummed, getting his cane up from his desk and walking to his dresser. You rolled your eyes as you watched the man's back. The son of a bitch knew perfectly well that you hated it when he didn't look at you during a conversation.

"Sure, if it helps you sleep, tell yourself what you want, Brekker."

"You live at my club, sleep here, eat with my crows, and waste my time taking some useless gossip from downstairs." he enumerated, turning over his things and searching persistently for something.

"And I'd been doing this for four years before you became Mr. Scary Dirtyhands from the Barrel. You just proved my point, Kazzle. We are friends."

You got up from your chair and stood next to him. You glanced at the contents of his drawer and frowned, noticing something familiar. You reached for a small silver box with his REAL initials on it, but the man slammed the drawer shut before you could get your hands on the find. You snorted indignantly as you noticed the smug smirk on his face as he nearly clipped your fingers for your meddling.

Kaz Brekker was sentimental enough to keep the ashtray you gave him.

You involuntarily remembered what you told him when you handed it to him.

"I know you don't smoke and don't celebrate your birthday, but I think that's a pretty nice metaphor and the closure you need."

"What? An old ashtray from the market? Which you probably swept from under the noses of some heavy smokers."

"No, genius, in case you haven't noticed, it has a special engraving. Read it."

"For K.R., let him rest in peace. What's that supposed to mean?"

"You can consider it what you want. A keepsake of your former self, a lost life you might have had, an urn for the ashes of your former self... we both know you're not the same man you used to be. And you have every right to be, Kaz. It's just... I think you deserve something commemorating your old self. The boy who stole half-rotten apples with me to survive. Now you are someone else—someone stronger, wiser, cunninger... but know that I will never forget Kaz, who was my only light when I was at my worst."

"That's pretty sentimental for you. Also, calling me light is not quite an appropriate metaphor." he replied coolly, returning to his book.

You nodded to him, saying goodbye. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stroke a silver object for a moment and put it in his pants pocket. You smiled. Apparently, you weren't the only sentimental fool in Ketterdam.

"Then, as my friend, you won't mind telling me about that strange connection between you and the Darkling that keeps you from sleeping without threatening to set my club on fire with your dazzling moonlight?" he asked, snapping you out of your flashback.

"No, because, as my friend, you won't be nosy, and out of politeness, you won't ask."

"I anticipated this reaction. That's why I got this." a velvet ring box magically appeared in his hands.

"Are you going to propose to me? Oh, Kazzie, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for this! You don't have to kneel, sweetheart. We can call Jes, and he'll do it for you. It's a perfect opportunity for him to practice before asking Wylan."

"Can you be serious for just one moment, please?" he asked, blushing slightly and trying to give you one of his famous menacing looks.

"Sorry, I couldn't resist. Besides, you could have foreseen in that plan of yours that I would never waste such an opportunity."

"Just open it." he sighed, tossing you the box. Too curious to find out what was inside, you decided to leave the poor boy alone and refrained from commenting further. You widened your eyes as you saw the real ring. "What? No enthusiastic and loud: "Yes, Kazzie, I'll marry you!", so my crows can tease me about it too? To be honest, I'm disappointed, Y/N."

"Well, I could have been joking about it when I didn't have a ridiculously beautiful ring in front of me. Sorry that I'm a little confused, Kaz."

"It's good you like it, but I'd rather know if it works as it should. Put it on your finger."

"As romantic as always." you murmured, trying on a silver ring with an opal and small diamonds around the stone. You raised your hand and, by using your power, increased the light reflected by the moon that was still in the sky so it could illuminate your new jewelry. "It's beautiful, but I have absolutely no idea what it is supposed to do."

"Protect you." you glanced back at Kaz, only to discover that he had been staring at you the entire time. The white sparkles in his eyes caused by your light captivated you more than the shining diamonds. You shook your head, remembering what happened the last time you gave in to your stupid crush.

"Protect me?"

"I've been doing some research with Alina and Nina about the bond between you and him, the amplifiers… we believe this will weaken the bond between you enough for you to sleep peacefully. He will not enter your mind uninvited." he said, spitting out the words about the Darkling like he was a plague. But you were more interested in something quite different from his open dislike of the Black Heretic.

"Why? Why are you getting through all of it for me? It's not your war to fight. You have no interest in it."

"I have. Since I got you out of the Little Palace, you've been my investment. And I protect everything I invest in and what's worth my time. No matter what."

"You do realize I won't bring you any profit? Alina would be a better choice than me." you questioned his choice. Kaz turned to the window, as if looking for Inej, whose arrival would interrupt this uncomfortable conversation.

Unfortunately for him, the saints had no watch over him. And one of them was waiting for him to gather his thoughts and answer her question. He had to do this without betraying the emotions that had been bubbling up inside him since he had first seen her at one of the Dreg's raids. He was lost the second he saw her and completely fated to love her after their first conversation.

But she couldn't know it.

She couldn't know that his heart was gone with her and that it took him ages to find himself after she disappeared. He promised himself to keep her away from him. To make sure he wouldn't fall for her beauty, mind, eyes, smile, and laugh like he had done as a child. But the second he saw her again, he knew that his heart was hers. Hers to keep, hold, break, play.

But she couldn't know it.... At least not now. Not when he had just snatched her from the Darkling's grasp.

Not when he wasn't ready to love her the way she should be loved.

"That's for me to evaluate and for you to make sure I won't regret this. Besides, I only invest in one-of-a-kind. I don't need more narcissistic saints to go into my office like it was their own." he said after a long silence, without taking his eyes off the window.

He was afraid that his eyes would betray the truth hidden in his stupid heart. He was grateful to all above that she wasn't a heartrender and couldn't feel his treacherous heart beating madly every time he looked at her. He just had to make sure Nina didn't reveal his little secret. He didn't know that the woman had been blackmailed into a similar case by the moon summoner.

"So I'm pretty lucky. I would die if I had to sleep on those inconvenient motel beds."

"Considering how much sleep you actually get, you're unlikely to notice a difference." you gasped, feigning indignation at the mischievous, amused tone of his voice.

"You're a cruel bastard, Kaz Brekker." he finally turned to you with a small smirk on his face. You giggled, only widening his smile.

"Go and check your ring. I hope you won't be threatened by any ugly faces."

"Yes, boss." you saluted, walking towards the door. You opened it and were about to leave when an idea popped into your head. You leaned against the door frame, looking at the man taking his place at the desk. "Kazzie?" you asked sweetly, biting your lip to keep from laughing too soon. The Bastard of the Barrel gave you a questioning look, fearing the familiar tone of your voice and the question coming. "As your fiancée, am I going to get half of your club?"

"Over my dead, cold body." he replied without a second of hesitation, perfectly prepared for such a provocation from your side.

"You know, you need to work on sharing if you plan to be husband material in the future. I feel sorry for your future spouse, unless it'll be your job."

"Go to sleep before I put you in bed myself."

"You should know better than to scare me with a good time, sweetheart!" you shouted back, leaving and pushing your way through the crowd of a few shocked Dregs who had probably heard the part about the fiancée and whom Kaz called to his office as soon as he saw them.

And as soon as he is done with them, Kaz will rip your legs out of your pretty ass. Even Alina and Nina will not be able to help you.

~•♤♤♤•~

The ring worked great. From that night on, you slept like a baby every day. The Darkling's face appeared only occasionally in your nightmares (both bloody ones and… more pleasant ones). But it wasn't REALLY him. Just a messed-up version of your sick imagination.

In the meantime, you trained with Alina and Nina (the woman needed the presence of other Grishas in Brekker's gang; besides, she was an amazing friend, and she also made wonderful waffles); you developed your powers; and you two gossiped with Genya, as she changed your looks every week so that no one would accidentally recognize you (by the way, you learned that David was heading this way to reunite with the love of his life).

You became close to Jes (you had the honor of being trained with HIS PISTOLS) and Inej, whose comforting company was invaluable (as well as the rooftop stealth lessons. Kaz cursed her after the first time you scared him by climbing through his office window and giving you a barrier. Of course you had your mind, and you didn't listen to him. Your unexpected visits to his office only became more frequent.)

So you could say that everything was on its way back to normality.

But it wasn't. Because one fine day, when the crows, Kaz, you, Alina, and Genya were eating breakfast at his club, someone showed up at your door.

Someone you didn't want to see more than the Darkling himself.

"What the fuck is she doing here, if I may culturally ask?" Alina gave you an apologetic look as Baghra walked casually into the crows' kitchen like she belonged here. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kaz taking any sharp metal objects from the table that you might have used to attack the woman.

You and Baghra had a rough relationship. Due to the fact that you and Aleksander were something, the woman did not look at you very favorably. You had no intention of fawning over a woman who wanted to kill her own son, either. Maybe your feelings for the Darkling were... unclear, but you wouldn't wish anyone, not even your worst enemy, a mother who was willing to stand against her own child, to spurn him instead of doing... anything to help him out of his darkness. It was not in line with your moral views. But no one here seemed to care since they invited the mother of Satan to your table.

"It's nice to see you too, Y/N."

"I don't even have enough respect for you to lie to you and admit that seeing you didn't ruin my day. I will ask one last time..." you got up from the table, shielding Kaz and the crows as you summoned your power. "What are you doing here?"

"My son is looking for you all over the world, do you think I won't try to get to you first before he does?"

"Oh, you've already shown how much you care about outdoing Kirigan in reaching us. I'm asking you, what do you want from us?"

"I came here for you. Because of you, child." you stiffened slightly, wondering what else the old woman had to say. But you would die before admitting that Baghra's help would be invaluable to your little band of rebels. Your pride was both your greatest strength and weakness.

"Well, excuse me, but I have more important things to do than listen to some old lady's ravings. I haven't finished my breakfast yet, and I'm far too sober for another conversation about how everyone wants to use me as a weapon."

"Every day I'm less surprised by how you ended up with my son. You two are a perfect match for each other." she snapped, annoyed at your indifferent attitude.

"I'd suggest you get to the point. You were the one who wanted to meet with us. As our moon summoner mentioned, we don't have to listen to you. And trust me, I have absolutely no intention of stopping her when she wants to kick you out of my club." Kaz stood next to you, measuring the woman with a watchful gaze.

You were proud that he believed in your and Alina's powers and wasn't afraid to provoke the shadow summoner in your presence. You cast a fleeting glance at him, watching as Baghra gave him an appraising look.

"Mr. Breaker. It would be better for you and your club if work with the summoners of the sun and moon ended in Ravka. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."

"I never make ill-considered decisions, and certainly not out of fear." he replied with his poker, business face.

"This is only a trait of the greatest winners or greatest losers."

"You don't have to worry about him. Mr. Brekker is always on the winning team." you answered for him, having had enough of this woman. Unfortunately, it looked like she wouldn't be leaving you so soon.

"Turn that light out, girl, before the Grishas swarm here. I won't hurt your boyfriend and his friends." you frowned as you heard Jes coughing in the background, trying not to laugh. With a wave of your hand, the white light around you vanished. You watched in displeasure as a smirk began to form on Baghra's lips.

"He is/I am not my/her boyfriend." together with Kaz, you both uttered these words as Baghra pushed past you. This caused you to turn to one another and exchange equally awkward, perplexed looks.

"Whatever, just get your lovebird butts over here." she murmured as she unfolded the map on the table and took a few items out of her bag. You snorted at seeing a small wooden statue of Aleksander.

It was going to be a long and tiring morning.

~•♤♤♤•~

"We have to hurry before your boy gets here. Good thing he is walking with the cane, at least it keeps him from sneaking up on us." Baghra growled at you. She'd only been here a week, and she'd already ruled everyone. You were no longer surprised at where Aleksander inherited his incredible self-confidence and arrogance.

"For the love of God, I'm telling you for the last time, KAZ IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND. Besides, if I were you, I wouldn't underestimate him. You could actually learn from him. You'll need a cane soon, too."

"Can you two just stop arguing for once and focus on the task at hand?" the sun summoner lingered, following you to the basement of the Crow Club.

"I'm sorry, Alina, that I'd rather banter with that witch than figure out how to seduce her son, lull his guard down, pluck the antlers of a wonderful steg out of his hand, and break the link between us once and for all."

"Start by undoing a few buttons on your blouse and letting your hair down; that should be enough for him to lose his mind." she advised you, making you and Alina shudder, both equally abashed.

"Seriously?" you asked mockingly, giving her a disgusted look. Nevertheless, you followed the woman's suggestion. "What is the next step? Shall I wear some nice underwear?"

"Not necessarily, but it would be nice to take off that ring. I doubt Aleksander would appreciate that someone other than himself gave you such gaudy jewelry." you snorted, taking off the only thing keeping the Darkling from crossing the walls of your mind.

You bypassed Baghra's outstretched hand and handed the ring to Alina. The older woman snorted indignantly at what you stuck your tongue out at. She didn't expect you to trust her with anything, even something as small as Kaz's ring, right?

"Done. What's next?"

"You need to make a connection. Every time he thinks of you or you think of him, you seek each other out and make a link. Imagine his face, voice, and silhouette; recall some memory associated with him; do anything to have him in front of your eyes. It should work and take you to where he is now. Just like when you two were getting into each other's dreams before Mr. Brekker gave you this ring."

"I did not seek him of my own free will. It just happened." you defended yourself, not wanting anyone to think you were looking for the Darkling like a lost puppy.

"You know him. He will continue to invade your thoughts and your life to convince you of the error of your ways and choices. This ring can work now, but what happens when you two get stronger in the future? It will stop working. You will be condemned to endure his pervasive presence. In the morning, afternoon, nights, and midnights. He won't let you go. Never. You cannot extract the stag from your own body. So you must find a way to block him permanently. Not by some magic ring."

You sighed, realizing she was right. You will be free of him only when any bond between you is gone. The only thing you were afraid of was that it existed between you and the Darkling long before you killed the stag...

Darkness and its light. Moon and shadow. Destined to be together. United at the end of the day.

"And what if I fail and he chokes me, stabs me, or just uses the cut on me?"

"We will observe the energy around you. If we see too many shadows or your light, we'll pull you out."

"All right. Let's get this over with." you sat down, leaning against the wall of the Crow Club basement, praying to all of Inej's mighty saints that your plan would work.

You closed your eyes, remembering the moment before your big performance at the winter fete.

You had to pretend that you didn't know Kaz, and then you had no idea what he was doing here wearing one of the soldiers uniforms. He promised to explain everything to you, but then Aleksander came.

"I'll take her from here." he said to Kaz, letting him know that he was no longer needed.

But he has not left you. Aleksander ignored him, examining your kefta carefully. It was beautiful. Genya decorated it with silver threads and embroidered stars and moons in different phases. However, the fact that probably delighted him the most was its black (but actually dark navy blue) color. But he didn't care about the true color of your kefta as long as it looked black to any other observer.

A clear signal that you were his moon.

"I have something for you." he whispered as he leaned closer to you so that your noses were practically touching. He pulled something shiny out of his sleeve. He held the silver chain up to your eye level so you could see the pendant. Moon with a star. You shifted your gaze from the shiny object to those mesmerizing black eyes staring at you in pure adoration. "I know you're practically festooned with these symbols, but I wanted you to know..." he interrupted, brushing your hair over one shoulder so he could place the necklace over your neck. He planted a quick, tender kiss on your nape as he clicked the silver jewelry. "That you're not just a Saint Y/N, summoner of the moon. You're mine moonlight in the worst darkness of mine. My hope and peace. The only light I let through my shadows."

You grabbed the pendant, noticing your initials carved into the back of the moon.

"It's beautiful." you turned in his arms to whisper in his ear, making him shiver as you kissed his earlobe. "Aleksander..."

~•♤♤♤•~

You opened your eyes.

A dim light illuminated Kirigan's war room.

You did it. Now all you had to do was seduce him. Piece of cake.

You let yourself watch him flick through some papers, wrinkling his nose and occasionally running a hand through his hair. The exact same one with the stag antler still stuck in it. You shook your head, remembering your task. You had to outsmart him. And in such a wise way that it didn't cross his mind that you might have bad intentions towards him.

"Aleksander." you whispered as you stepped out of the shadows. The man either really didn't notice you or he was a brilliant actor, judging by the pure shock that painted his face the moment he turned to meet your gaze. "You seem surprised to see me."

"I am." his mask of indifference and self-confidence quickly fell back into place. "But perhaps I shouldn't be. I should have known you'd prove to be an apt pupil. Not many can learn that trick." he placed the papers on the desk and leaned against it. "But after our last meeting, I had the impression that you didn't want to see me again. What changed your mind to seek me out?"

"I hate to say this, but I realized you were right."

"How so?" he began to watch you with interest, too curious to know what you were going to say to repay you for stabbing him last time. The fact that he didn't pounce on you with his shadows the moment he saw you gave you an odd sense of confidence. Maybe you could have made it.

"I was meant for more. And you were the first person to see me as I truly am. First to help me realize what I'm meant for. First to tech me how to use my power and how to see it as something more incredible than terrifying. First to see, I was more than a scared little girl. That I was powerful Grisha and I can do anything I want." with every word you said and every step you took towards him, you could see his mask crack open, revealing his true emotions. However, there was still a shadow of uncertainty and suspicion in his eyes. You had to remove it if you wanted to win this battle.

"Was I? And what about Alina? Or your helpful friends that take you away from Little Palace?" you hoped you didn't show that his words affected you. You were afraid that somehow he might have discovered a little help from Kaz and his crows.

"They… they don't understand the power growing within me. I thought that Alina might share my feelings, but … it seems to me that we understand our possibilities completely differently when it comes to our powers. And my friends… I think they're more afraid of what I can do than admire it as… as you did."

"That's not their fault. I did try to warn you. Tried to explain that with so much power that flows in our veins, usually comes fear from the side of our loved ones."

"I know. I think I'm starting to finally understand that now." you took one slow step towards him, feeling his watchful gaze on you. "There are no others like us, and they never will be. We are connected by our powers. Alina can live without us, but you and me… you and me are destined to work together and to stand by our sides. There is no darkness without light, but it's the moon that brings it into the night and that lives among the shadows, working with them… Like calls to like, right, Aleksander?"

In his eyes, you could see how much he wanted to believe you, how much he wanted the words you said to be true... but you knew that Aleksander lived too long to believe only empty words. He needed conclusive proof that you were on his side and that you were only his moon. And you had to convince him somehow.

"As I delighted as I am that you found your way to me, what do you want?"

"That thing that binds us. I think you fear it more than you actually care to admit."

"I fear everything there is to fear; it makes me strong. I understand things about power that you've had years yet to learn, moonlight."

"Well, as you said, with a good teacher, I'm a very apt pupil. But I think we both know… that it's not all about power, though, is it?" you walked the distance between you two and stood chest-to-chest with him. "What about the other bond we share? That one I was avoiding for too long." you slowly cup his cheek, making him close his eyes at the touch of your soft skin. You tenderly stroked one of his black scars on his cheek, which made the Black Heretic sighe in relief. "I want you, Aleksander." he opened his eyes, looking at you in disbelief when he tried to seek any sight of lies on your face. "And being in your presence terrifies me as much as making me feel… like I finally belonged somewhere. Like I was made by saints to be next to you. It felt... right in some crazy way."

"Love is for madmen, Y/N. And I've already told you…" you shivered as his cold fingertips touched the hot skin of your neck. His fingers went to the silver necklace—your only sin against your friends. He took the pendant in his hands and kissed it, not taking his eyes off yours. "You're my moonlight. Nothing has changed, and I doubt it ever will... for both of us."

You pulled him by the hair to connect your lips in a long-awaited kiss, too annoyed with how long you had to work him out. (Or too scared that his words are true.) You moaned as he bit your lips, and in one sweeping motion, he scooped you up off the floor and sat you on his desk.

He pulled away from you, dropping his kefta on the floor, and went back to kissing you as if you were the only one that mattered in this world. But the next amplifier's whereabouts map you laid on as he kissed your soul out of you was a glaring reminder that you could never have truly had him.

You would never be his first choice.

"Forgive me for stabbing you, then." you whispered into his mouth as you broke apart for a moment to catch your breath. He pressed into you more fervently than before, caressing your waist tenderly.

"I will have kissed these tempting, sweet lips, even if it means I'll get stabbed by you, every time I do it."

That was good to know, you thought, throwing your arms around his shoulders and slowly pulling out the dagger from your sleeve as he continued to kiss you greedily, like he wanted to sate himself with you while he still had you in his arms.

"Your words, not mine." you murmured, catching his mouth with yours while driving the dagger into his hand. He snarled, breaking away from you and trying in vain to yank the metal out of your hand. You tried to pry the last stag's bone out of him.

But suddenly, just as you were about to do it, you find yourself back in the basement of the Crows Club.

You were breathing fast, frantically looking around the room. Kaz was kneeling a step away from you and watching you worriedly as you tried to calm down.

From the cane that was on your leg and his firm grip on your arm, you figured out pretty quickly why you suddenly came back. You yanked your arm from his hand in your anger, forgetting his phobia of touch and how much of an achievement it was for him to hold your arm.

"What the hell, Brekker?! I had him! I could end this right there! UGH! Why did you let him break our connection?!" you screamed in frustration, looking resentfully at Alina and Baghra.

"You nearly blew yourself out with your power, and they couldn't bring you back."

"I had it under control, Kaz!"

"Oh, really?" he asked mockingly, struggling to his feet with the help of his cane and walking over to you with equal anger painted in his eyes. "Because it didn't look good from my point of view. You could have blown up the whole club..."

"Of course you would only care about your stupid, fucking club! Forgive me, Dirtyhands. Next time I'm going to save the damn world from the Darkling, I'll pick up a place other than one of your fucking bases!" you yelled at him, pushing past a shocked Alina and Baghra.

"Y/N, come back here!" he shouted after you. The distinctive sound of his cane told you he was following you.

"I'm not your fucking property, Brekker! I can go anywhere I want!" you screamed, running as fast and far for him as you could, thanking everyone above that Brekker wasn't able to catch up with you. You needed a moment to yourself. And you only knew one place in all of Ketterdam where you could be truly alone.

~•♤♤♤•~

For a long time, you hated harbour. It was a reminder of your weakness—a reminder of a girl who got kidnapped by slave hunters. Then you met Aleksander and became one of the strongest Grisha. From then harbour was for you to remind you of the birth of Saint Y/N. Moon summoner. It was funny for you to see how easy it is to get on the ship and go anywhere you want. Be anyone you want. But you don't have this choice anymore. Not until your past stops chasing you whenever you close your eyes.

"I knew you'd be here." Kaz's voice below you made you shiver, but you didn't grace him with your gaze. "You'd be too merciful to me by choosing an easily accessible spot, wouldn't you?" he grumbled as he clambered next to you on the crates of goods. He sighed as he managed to climb up. He tossed his cane, catching it spectacularly and resting it against the crate beneath you. He leaned forward, staring out at the harbour with you, when the wind blew his hair, messing up his always perfectly styled hairdo.

"Nobody made you follow me around, Kazzle." you murmured, casting a fleeting glance at him, grinning mischievously at how tired he was of climbing crates. Someone here was in bad shape. Brekker must sit with these plans and papers for too long.

"I did." you turned your head to meet his piercing gaze. "I already told you. I take care of my investments."

"Maybe you're making a mistake."

"I'm never mistaken. I know when and how much to invest in something valuable."

"But what if I'm a lost cause? What if you're wrong this time? Why do you think I'm done with the Darkling? Me and him have so much in common... what if I become like him? Are you not afraid? That one day, in my naiveté, I'd decide Kirigan was worth a second chance and betray you? That one day I'll stop controlling my power and that I'll hurt you? How can you sit here so calmly and..."

"Because I know you better than myself. I may not believe in saints, but I believe in you, Y/N. I will always believe in you."

You swallowed, looking down in embarrassment. You didn't deserve this.

"I get caught up in it sometimes. That I return with memories to the Little Palace. I wonder what I could have done differently to prevent all this. How could I reason with him, what could I do to dissuade him from his plans. How to behave, what to say out loud, and what to keep to yourself. And I'm furious with Baghra that, being his mother, she didn't fight for him to the end; she gave up before we could do ANYTHING for him together. And I curse myself every time I feel guilty, knowing that I left him utterly alone. So tell me, Kaz, knowing now all these doubts growing within me, do you still believe in me?"

The killing silence told you everything you wanted to know.

"Come on. Go right ahead, Kazzie. Call me a fool, an idiot who wants to believe that everyone deserves someone close, someone they can trust. Who stupidly believes in giving people a second chance." you said, afraid to look up to see the revulsion in the eyes of the only person you could always count on.

Kaz said your name, but you ignored him completely, feeling tears slowly welling up in your eyes. Suddenly you felt the cold steel crow's head of his cane under your chin. Brekker forced you to look into his eyes. And you thanked all the saints for the tenderness that was still present in them.

"You know, I don't think that about you. You are a Grisha. The moon summoner. The only beacon of hope in the darkness. I think that in your job description lies faith even in the most deprived, lost, and broken souls."

"I didn't know that poetic side of you, Brekker."

"I've changed since the last time you saw me."

"Really?" you asked, nodding at his gloves and cane. He caught your eye, gripping the crow's head tighter. "Hey. You have every right to do that, Kaz, okay? I was kidding, and I didn't know it was still a sensitive subject. I'm sorry. Apart from that, I can name more. For example, you still have a stick in your ass when it comes to pranks. It was too easy to get on your nerves with Jes." you said, trying to make a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

"Looking now at you, it's better for humanity that you haven't become a saint. Saints, protect some wretch who would have asked you for help." you smiled at him, glad he understood your intentions.

"Now, I feel hurt, Kazzie. Wouldn't you pray to me if they hung my holy image up here somewhere?" you asked, offended, putting your hand over your heart.

He knew he would spend hours, days, and weeks praying to her, only to see her face again and hear the voice of the Saint of his heart...

"No. No saint has ever watched over me. It wouldn't make sense to pray to you either. Especially since I knew you personally before you became a mighty Grisha."

"Well, I'm no saint yet, but since I'm your newest investment, I guess that means I'm supposed to serve you in some way. And since I'm not going to be your errand dog or spy crow, I guess a good compromise would be if I became your bodyguard. Then you can't say that there's no saint watching over you."

"I don't need a guardian angel."

"It's good then that I'm far from being an angel." you stared at each other, the wind blowing your hair, as you enjoyed the understanding between you and the unspoken acknowledgment of your closeness.

Kaz Brekker could not have a weakness. This city would use it against him very quickly. But he felt that perhaps his weakness could be powerful enough to be his greatest asset instead of his darkest burden. Maybe he didn't have to worry about her that much.

"Ketterdam was boring without you. It was also harder to work without your… skills." he said uncertainly, averting his gaze from your piercing, mesmerizing eyes.

"Is that your way to tell me you missed me?" you were teasing him and pushing his cane. He almost fell over when you broke his only support. You almost couldn't prevent yourself from laughing.

"We could have gained much more kruge if you had been here."

"I didn't want to leave." you whispered, involuntarily remembering the day they kidnapped you.

"I know." he leaned towards you, forcing you to look into his eyes. "You don't have to worry about them. I made sure they were six feet deep underground before you even set foot in Ketterdam." your heart warmed at the thought that he was chasing them for you.

He made sure you were 100% safe and comfortable before he brought you back home. Home. You didn't think you'd find him among the crows, thieves, and the Dreg Club. You didn't think you'd feel this way about him—one of the men whose lifestyle was far from normal and safe.

"You're getting soft in your old age, Brekker." you replied with a half smile, holding back unwanted tears. You weren't that weak girl anymore. You were Grisha. And thanks to the man sitting next to you, you were (almost) free. You grabbed his cane, right next to the crow's head, where Kaz's hands were. His gaze flicked to where your hands were so close together. He turned his head to meet your watery eyes. "Thank you, Kaz. For everything. It means a lot to me. Even if it was foolish to break into the Darkling's palace and kidnap us like sacks of potatoes."

"It was the perfect plan! Nobody noticed us." he was indignant, immediately defending his action.

"Yeah, but what I and Alina get hit with every time Jesper and you steer that wooden cart over rocks is ours. You could really choose a path that wasn't made of stones."

"Next time, it's up to you to make a plan to escape the 500-year-old shadow summoner. We'll see how you do." he snorted, offended, but didn't move an inch. Contrary. His hand moved closer to yours, wrapping precariously around yours on his cane.

"Less than a week back in Ketterdam, and you're already letting me into your plans? Aww, I love you too, Kazzie."

He would give all the kruge of this world to hear those words from you for the rest of his life... and it surprised him that he wasn't afraid to admit it to himself at all.

"And I almost forgot how annoying you can be."

"Don't worry. I have all the time in the world to shrink your inflated ego and remind you of that, boss." Kaz held his breath. He stared at you searchingly, trying to find in your face the answer to whatever question he was asking in his head. You unknowingly scooted closer to each other so that your shoulders rested against each other.

You were much closer to each other before. Kaz (on his good days) even felt comfortable hugging you for a while. After years apart, you thought it would take ages for him to get used to your presence again and the brief touch without going underwater with Jordi.

But you were here. Holding hands, leaning against each other, and staring into each other's eyes.

You shivered as you felt his breath against your cheek when he leaned a little closer to you, testing his border.

"You're shining." he whispered softly, hypnotized, afraid to break the silence between you.

"What?"

"Your eyes are shining." his trembling hand took your cheek as you were watching him speechless. Even in your wildest dreams, you wouldn't suppose he would hold you like that. He truly changed. He beat Pekka, and now the King of Ketterdam was fighting with his demons. You were so proud of him and also sad that you weren't with him at the beginning of his road to healing. "And the light is coming out of your skin. You're shining like a star for lost souls."

"You're not lost... not anymore." you whispered, your voice trembling, fully understanding what he had left unsaid.

"I was. But now the moonlight is lighting up Ketterdam's darkness again."

"Kaz... I..." you held your breath, staring at him in anticipation. You didn't know what for. All you knew was that taking your eyes off him for even a second was an unforgivable crime.

Your noses were almost touching, your lips were the closest you've known each other. And Kaz was as calm as if he'd never had a haphephobia. As if the situation with Jordi never happened. You were afraid his waters would finally rise, interrupting your moment, but as soon as your foreheads touched, all the logical thoughts in your head went to hell. It was just you and him.

And you would still enjoy that closeness if the sound of breaking glass and Jesper's curses hadn't driven you apart.

"Here you are! How the hell did you get in there?! Get down! We're leaving in half an hour!" Jesper shouted to you from below and disappeared as quickly as he appeared. You cleared your throat, realized what Jes said after a long moment.

"We are leaving?" you asked, surprised. Bastard didn't say a word about going anywhere.

"Yes. I'll explain everything to you on the ship." he gave you a brush-off as he began his downward journey.

"On the ship? Kaz, what have you planned?!" you shouted angry as you followed him.

~•♤♤♤•~

"This is the dumbest plan ever made, and believe me, I've been to more than one of his idiotic ideas." you said, pointing at the offended Kaz.

Your great friends (and Baghra) have decided to sneak into the Darkling's palace, steal his maps and war plans, and set the Little Palace on fire.

You started to doubt their good sanity... or sobriety.

"Sooner or later, we have to sneak in there. Aleksander has stolen from me all the books and records of our ancestors; he is in possession of immense power, and we can not allow him to make use of it." you clenched your fists, almost ready to pounce on the woman for revealing the Darkling's true name.

"Who is Aleksander?" you ignored Kaz's question, nervously twirling the ring he gave you on your finger.

"Was he able to steal something from YOU? And you let him do it? How surprised I am."

"What are you implying?"

"I implying that we are in some huge coach driven by your men, leaving Ketterdam on your initiative and entering the lion's mouth because you said so. In my place, you'd be suspicious too."

"The odds of me betraying you are as high as the odds that you will."

"And why is that?" you hissed, furious at how easily she got on your nerves.

"Aleksander has a knack for manipulating people. A few sweet words, and even your boyfriend won't be able to count on your devotion anymore."

"Watch your mouth. I'm not her boyfriend." Kaz growled, tensing up next to you, thereby stopping your quarrel. Baghra shrugged, continuing her quiet conversation with Alina. In your mind, you were planning the old lady's slow death until someone's hand grabbed yours in a strong grip.

You turned your head towards Kaz. He stared blankly out the window, completely ignoring your gaze. Instead, he started drawing circles on your palm, trying to calm you down somehow. You turned your head in the opposite direction, smiling to yourself at the tender gesture. Unbeknownst to you, Kaz had the same smirk as yours on his face.

The rest of the trip to the city was uneventful. As planned, Alina and you stayed in Baghra's secret stash while the rest went off to play heroes. Your job was to distract the Darkling, and Alina was supposed to watch over you.

You'd agree to their plan if your role wasn't just to stand by while others risked their lives trying to get the information you all needed.

But you decided not to argue with the others about it this time. After all, they couldn't control you once you got into the palace. You might as well have snooped around, looked for what you needed, and done most of the work for them. Closing your eyes and getting ready to connect with the Darkling, you only hoped that your little disobedience would go unnoticed.

~•♤♤♤•~

You just finished searching Kirigan's study, war room, and bedroom. You were on your way to the last room - the library, when you bumped into the one person you wanted to avoid.

You were paralysed as soon as you saw him walking down the hall. You hoped he wouldn't look in your direction, but the general (alert as always) glanced at you briefly before disappearing from your view. You had the faintest hope that he would think you were a vision, but all of it vanished when you felt a hand gently wrap around your neck and pin you against the wall.

"You either have too much free time or you enjoy haunting me at random times, little moon." you didn't answer, too scared that the moment he touched you, all your power took on a life of its own, merging with his shadows, as it usually does when your skins meet for the first time after a long separation. You were defenceless. Kirigan frowned, watching you with growing interest. "Speechless? Not any irritating responses? Do you fear me, Y/N?" his taunts brought you to your senses, forcing you to calm down immediately. You couldn't wait for Alina to be rescued. You had to fight him yourself.

"That's what you want, isn't it? To have everyone and everything under control, too scared to say or do anything against you."

"Fear is a powerful ally and also loyal."

"Not as loyal and lasting as love, trust, respect." you tried to break free from his grip, but all attempts to remove his hand from your neck proved futile. You were lucky that instead of tightening the grip and cutting off your air, he just wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling you closer so that your faces were mere millimetres apart. "We could have had it, Aleksander. All of it. All you had to do was set me free and make me your equal."

"You'll come to feel it towards me someday. For now… even though I truly want to, I have no time for you, moonlight. Your friends are waiting for me. But don't get the wrong impression…" he leaned towards you, stroking your cheek tenderly as he whispered in your ear. "I will be back for you, my Y/N. Wherever you are hiding from me."

You shivered as he kissed your temple, making this terrifying promise to you. At some point, his shadows enveloped you completely and sent you back to the room where you and Alina were hiding.

And after one look at the sun summoner, you both knew what you had to do.

~•♤♤♤•~

You couldn't remember the last time you ran so fast in your entire life. It must have been back in your Ketterdam days, doing some little errands for the Dregs.

But this time, you weren't running to save your life. You ran to save Kaz Brekker's ass, who was the only one (not counting Inej, who was already hidden somewhere with Alina, waiting for you in harbour) who didn't return from his mission. As you expected, everything went to hell without you, and if you and Alina hadn't arrived, half of the crows (including Baghra) would have been captured by Aleksander's grishas. You wouldn't feel sorry for the old woman, but Alina insisted on saving her.

Jes, Wylan, Nina and Baghra searched other parts of the Little Palace, trying to burn everything in their path. You could still make it. If only Brekker hadn't gotten lost in the meantime. You knew you should go with him. You've always been a team player, and pairing you with Alina for this mission and leaving you behind was their worst idea.

You promised yourself that the next time you'd strap that risky idiot to your hip.

That's why you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw him at the end of the corridor. But instead of running up to him and yelling at him for his thoughtlessness, you hid in the shadows as he backed away slowly. Someone had to catch him. You caught his eye for a moment, glad he noticed you and started to head your way. Thanks to this, you could assassinate his attacker and try to escape from the palace.

Piece of cake. If he wasn't talking to a fucking Darkling.

"I know you kidnapped my moon summoner. Now you're going to tell me where you stashed her." you cursed internally, feeling yourself start to panic. You guys were officially screwed.

"We didn't take her. She fled on her own." you marvelled at how Kaz could still keep his composure with an angry Darkling a few feet in front of him. Sometimes you forget how mentally strong he was.

"I don't doubt in it… where is she? I won't ask you again."

"I don't know. I don't own her… but it's pretty clear she wasn't interested in being a captive anymore."

Aleksander got even angrier at the little insinuation that Kaz took better care of you, that he didn't treat you like an asset, unlike the general. You cursed Dirtyhands for wanting to mock and taunt the Darkling, even though you could see that he wasn't so confident around him.

"I heard about you. And your crows. It would be a shame if something happened to such a talented group." the Darkling summoned some of his shadows, causing Kaz to back away and reach for the light grenade that you and Wylan had prepared. "It's good for you that you have the decency to show signs of fear."

"I'm afraid of what I must."

"And yet you are not so defenceless." Kaz raised an inquiring eyebrow. "Don't make a fool of yourself, Mr. Brekker. I can feel my moon's power everywhere. Especially when it's imbedded so much into one small object."

You tensed, remembering that you had given Kaz the necklace before he left for the Little Palace. A necklace whose pendant you poured so much moonlight into that no shadows could surround him while wearing it or only holding it.

Defence against the Darkling. Specially prepared for situations like this. However, handing it to him, you hoped the two would never meet, growling at each other like two rabid dogs.

"Y/N must have strong feelings for you to give you some of her power. And you for her. Putting your people and yourself at risk, your profit, your club. In the name of what, Mr. Brekker?"

"If you did thorough research on me, you'd know that all of Ketterdam knows I don't need a reason to do things."

"You'll never fully appreciate what she really is. But that's alright. Because I do." Aleksander let Dirtyhands' insult pass over his ears, trying to annoy him that much, so he let his guard down. You knew very well that method, just like you knew that Kaz wasn't foolish to fall for it.

"You've right. I'll never use her as a weapon or treat her like a saint. That's not what she wants. You may understand her powers, but you have no idea who she really is. What's in her mind. What are her dreams and desires. All you care about is her power, which I don't give a damn if she has or not. You see her only as a moon summoner. Not Y/N. You don't know the woman she was before Grisha's thing. You will never know how amazing and indescribable she was before Ravka. This is part of her that only I was allowed to see. You can't change the fact that I know her better than you."

"You're forgetting one important fact. You are a child, and she is Grisha. Y/N may take years to forgive me… but I can wait. Take away my shadows, and I still have something you don't. Time. Meanwhile, you will grow old. Your hair will grey, but she will remain ageless. Like me. Not mention your little inconvenience. Do you think you'll be able to touch her for more than a few minutes before your body grows old? That you'll be able to give her the life she deserves? We both know that one day, maybe a year from now, maybe fifty, she will realise that she has only one equal. There are no others like us, and there never will be. Even you can't change that, Mr. Brekker." he gave him a hostile look, laughing mockingly as he noticed that Kaz continued to back up with each step the Darkling took towards him until he did not stand in front of your hiding place. "Don't worry. I'm not going to kill you. Time will do it for me." he summoned more of his shadows, wanting to scare him with his power. You three knew very well that with your necklace around his neck, no cut would kill him."You should have stayed in Ketterdam, Mr. Brekker."

At this point, you both decided to step in. Kaz threw his grenade, and you summoned your power, blinding the two of them. You grabbed Kaz's arm, and you both ran (as fast as his leg would allow). You stopped only a few corridors and stairs further, at the crossroads where you were all supposed to meet. Along the way, you avoided several fires that the tidemakers were busy with.

"What are you doing here?!" he growled furiously at you as you finally stopped, only making you more angry at his recklessness and attitude. He attacked and insulted the most powerful grisha. An 18-year-old with a cane and no powers.

"What am I doing here?! You tell me, what are you doing! You made him mad for no reason! You think now that he knows your identities, he'll let you go so easily? He will hunt you as long as he lives, just like me and Alina! Congratulations, Brekker!"

"I knew the risk." he replied angrily, looking around all four corridors.

"No, you didn't. You'd know a flimsy toy like that one, fucking grenade wouldn't be enough for him with all the amplifiers he's got."

"Well, I guess your little gift was strong enough to protect me. Which brings me to the question… why am I the only one blessed with this power from you?" he asked as he walked over to you, standing a few inches in front of you. You were both panting with quick anger, rage, and adrenaline, which was slowly draining from your systems.

"It's not your business, Brekker." you growled into his face and took a step, trying to avoid him, but his firm grip on your elbow stopped you.

You turned to face him, ready to yank your arm out of his grip and scream at him to fuck off, but all thoughts flew out of your head as soon as you looked into his mesmerising eyes, which were looking at you with concern and… love.

"It is my business." he leaned closer to you, just enough for you to feel his warmth and his scent, and far enough away not to touch you any more than he already did. "You... you're my most important business. And if something happens to you, if he catches you again..." he sighed, shaking his head, trying to find the right words as he licked his annoyed lips, unconsciously drawing your gaze to them and making you hold your breath for a moment, wanting something as forbidden and holy as kissing them. "I don't know how to... express my feelings. I don't know if I even understand them well enough. All I know is that I would rather die than see you enslaved and sorrowful... and it pains me to know that I'm too weak to protect you. That I'll always be too weak FOR YOU."

"You are literally everything but weak. In my eyes, you're the strongest person I know, Kaz. One of the very few to whom I would entrust my life in the blink of an eye."

"And yet I'm not enough for Grisha's love."

"How could you not be enough for something you already have?" Kaz's head snapped up as he watched you, befuddled in complete silence. You hesitantly reached for his hand, giving him enough time to pull away. He did not do. "And because I love you, I cannot be selfish with you. I cannot risk your life just because I have loved you since we were stupid teenagers." he squeezed your hand, too overwhelmed by his emotions to say anything. Fortunately, you understood him without any words.

Slowly, as if time had slowed down just for you two, he leaned towards you, resting his forehead against yours. You stood like that for a moment, enjoying the other's presence, forgetting that the palace was burning around you and probably 100 Grishas were chasing you.

"I will have you, Kaz Brekker. But only when it's safe for both of us." you promised him, whispering with your eyes still closed. "And for that to happen, I have to stay here. I have to make sure he doesn't go after you, that he will be distracted by me instead of planning your death.." you were about to extricate yourself from his grip, but the man only pulled you closer to him, not wanting to let you go.

"Please, don't. Stay with me. You're not a saint or a hero. You said it yourself. More than I could count."

"Kaz…" you took the ring off and put it on his little finger. "Keep it for me until I'm back. As a promise that whatever is going to happen next… I will be back for you." testing your luck, you placed a quick, tender kiss on his finger, feeling him tremble under your lips.

Before you got a chance to change your mind, you ran in the opposite direction, following the voice of the fighting Grishas.

You didn't turn around. You didn't steal a second glance at him, even though you knew he was watching you until you were out of sight. You knew the moment you looked into his eyes again, you'd change your mind.

You had to be strong.

For both of you. For your common future.

~•♤♤♤•~

When you regained consciousness, you weren't surprised that your hands had been handcuffed, so you couldn't use your powers. You were surprised to be greeted by the familiar sheets of Aleksander's comfortable bed.

And the Darkling himself was lying right next to you with his face towards you.

His eyes were closed, giving you a good look at the darker shadows under his eyes than before. Without knowing why, they disturbed you more than those lazily hovering around the bed. For a moment, you listened to his measured, calm breathing, which would probably confuse anyone else and give the illusory belief that the man next to you is sleeping. But you knew him much better than to fall for such a simple trick.

"I know how you breathe when you're sleeping, Aleksander."

"Maybe I was trying to fall asleep."

"Wearing a kefta? Doubtful." he opened one eye, staring at you silently. You felt your heart start beating faster from the nerves. You had no idea why you were here. Or at least you didn't want to admit it to yourself, so you decided to play the fool. "Are the dungeons undergoing some kind of refurbishment, or are they so full that you haven't found another place for me?"

He stared at you silently, deep in thought. He took his time to answer, playing with the strands of your hair that had escaped your bun from an earlier fight.

"It didn't seem like the right place for you" he finally whispered, making you even more suspicious.

"And where is my right place? After I stabbed you in the back so many times? In your bed? In your arms? As a weapon for your use? Where do you see me, Aleksander?"

"By my side. I've always seen you by my side." he answered at once, without a trace of hesitation in his voice. His shadow circled the room, caressing you from time to time. You didn't know if he was planning to let your guard down or if he had completely lost his mind.

"I don't understand. You should be mad at me. Why don't you hate me? Why are you still looking at me like... like you really have feelings for me? This is another one of your games, right? You want me to go completely crazy this time, don't you?"

"No, my little saint moon." he whispered, undaunted by your anger, gently cupping your chin so you had to look him in the eye. "All I ever wanted was someone equal to me. Why should I get mad at you when all you're doing is trying to find your way to me?"

"I don't…"

"Then why did you let them catch you? Don't try to lie to me, Y/N. I was there. I saw with my own eyes how you backed away from running away at the last moment. Why?"

"You know why." you whispered in a shaky voice. You closed your eyes, trying to protect yourself from the Black Heretic's penetrating gaze and show him the tears beginning to form in your eyes. "I have a million reasons why I should give you up, why I should hate you more than anyone else, but the truth is… my heart wants what it wants. And I don't think I can resist this anymore." you couldn't control your tears, but from the tender touch of his hand as he wiped them from your cheek and the clank of the handcuffs opening, you figured they were necessary for him to believe you.

"You have no idea how long…"

"No." you cut him off before he could say anything more." I have one question for you. Answer it right, and I'll forget about the last few months. Answer it right, and I promise you that you will never have to be alone again, that I'll always be by your side, along with your shadows and everything else that you truly are. That I will accept my destiny as being your moon. I won't let anyone scare me away from you ever again. I just… I need you to be completely honest with me. This one time." you cursed yourself at how weak your voice sounded when he grabbed your hand, kissing tenderly the places where the handcuffs were marked. "You don't have to tell me your whole plan; I just want to know… are all of these lies, battles, wars, deaths… just to keep the Grishas safe? You have no other intention behind this than to give our people home, where they don't have to be afraid of people who hate us and our powers?"

"I swear to you, my little moonstone, there is no other reason. I'm not a maniac drunk on power, as everybody tells you. I just want our people to be safe; I want to give them a world where we can explore the abilities of our power without fear of getting killed for being extraordinary. I can only do this with you by my side. As my equal. As a person who thinks like me and can keep up with my plans. As my partner. As the only one I can trust."

"Good." you nodded, cupping his cheek as you pulled him closer to you, so your lips caught each other again.

And maybe it was naive to think he bought your story about being completely devoted to him; maybe it was just another one of his games; maybe this time he really believed your words. Or maybe he was tired of pretending you didn't feel that strange attraction every time you were together.

You did not know. And you didn't want to know.

You gave into that burning desire every time you were near him, explaining to yourself that you had to earn his trust.

But there was much more to this one kiss than just lust.

It was a promise to you.

You will break his heart and make him hate you. You will drive him mad, drive him away, and then he will cast you out. Aleksander will come to think of you not as his lover but as his greatest enemy. Alina, Baghra and you gonna end the circle of unnecessary deaths.

And then you will finally be free...

Or at least... you will kill you both while trying to hate him as you should from the beginning.

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months

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my social media has been filled with nothing but candid videos of hot guys playing scare actors so... happy halloween from scare actor!suguru

cw: mentions of eating and sweets, swearing

"god, i'm so tired. this is so tiring," an exhausted voice mutters from next to you on the wooden bench. the other side creaks from their weight, but you don't bother looking up at who it is. probably some guy must have lost his group of friends in the crowds, you figure. continuing to stare at your phone, the constant screams of terrified parkgoers slip in one ear and out of the other.

"mhmm. you can say that again," you reply with equal unamusement. you couldn't guess how long it'd been since your friends left you in favor of experiencing a particularly gory maze, one that you weren't interested in braving the headache for. it was just loud, the entire place, and the orange strobe lights casting ominous shadows in the fog was enough sensory overload for a lifetime. you continue scrolling mindlessly through your phone, spotting a lanky clown performer on stilts out of the corner of your eye. "not enjoying the spooky festivities?"

"i'm here on a dare, unfortunately." you can hear the frown in his voice and he lets out a long sigh.

"yikes. some friends you've got."

"tell me about it. what're you doing here by yourself?"

"waiting for some friends to get out of that one gory maze by the drop ride," you answer absentmindedly, entranced by a funny video of a husky fitting through a hole in a fence.

"blood king's palace?" damn. must be a frequent flier if he knows the mazes so well.

"yeah, i think so."

"i've got a friend working that one. maybe he'll run into your friends." it makes you smile, imagining your friends shrieking bloody murder while you snack on a purple sprinkle-covered funnel cake.

"i'm just here for the sweet stuff, i won't lie to you-holy fuck!" your attempt at a casual joke turns into a yelp of pure shock as you finally look up at the stranger on the other side of the bench. white-hot adrenaline shoots into your veins and it takes all of your willpower not to flee at that moment. you thought you were going to see just some other loser with an obnoxiously bright lanyard. instead, you're met with a skull-faced, sharp-jawed, man-bunned dreamboat that begins apologizing profusely for frightening you. after a few moments of steadying your breath with a hand over your heart, you take a good look at the intricate face makeup and note how enticing he looked in all leather. "next time, let me know before i look up that you're one of the scarers, yeah?" he chuckles sheepishly in stark contrast to his menacing appearance.

"sorry about that. i can get you that sweet stuff you mentioned with my discount." he pauses, dark eyes flicking across the passing visitors like he's looking for someone. "give me a sec; i'll be right back," he instructs before blasting off from the bench with a startling burst of speed. his knees slide across the ground first and sparks fly from the friction of the kneepads with the concrete. a terrified group of teenage girls make a run for it, only to be stopped by the same clown stilt-walker you saw earlier. before you know it, he's strolling back over to you with his hands in his pockets like nothing had happened, a few strands of stray hair the only evidence that he moved at all. "back to what i was saying," he continues and you laugh at the irony. "you feeling a candy apple or funnel cake? i can get both, if you want."

"you're gonna buy something for a total stranger?"

"if it means i can start over and meet you without the scary face paint, then yeah," he shrugs a lean shoulder and you fight the urge to drool. "i'm suguru, by the way." when you introduce yourself in response, he murmurs your name like he was committing it to memory. feeling your phone vibrate on your leg, you swear under your breath when you see the notification from your friends saying they'd finished the maze. part of you wanted to tell them to just leave you so you could keep talking to the handsome scare actor, but you knew they still wanted to spend the rest of the night with you.

"can i take you up on that funnel cake another night? my friends just left that vampire palace thing," you say regretfully, holding up the message for him to see.

"sure thing. can i walk you over there? i'll make sure no one bothers you, scarer or otherwise." his tongue dances over a sharp canine and you have to swallow thickly before answering.

"yeah," you agree quietly, heart pounding even louder than the lilting organ music. he smiles at you in relief and your brain short-circuits. "i'd like that."

for the next seven-something minutes while you walk across the park to find your friends, suguru slips next to you like a bodyguard, momentarily disappearing to scare some unsuspecting guests but always returning to your side. he walks with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, waltzing down the paths with you and leading you down shortcuts that seemed too frightening to brave alone. most surprisingly, the other scarers steer clear of you when you're with him. a brunette scarer with short hair in a tattered victorian gown calls after suguru teasingly when she sees him escorting you and the self-assured smirk that appears on his face was enough to make you pass out.

"can you tell your friends you're making a detour?" his question becomes rhetorical when you have no choice but to follow him as he beelines for the nearest funnel cake stand. he cuts the line and approaches the pick-up window; an unamused man with plastered-down blonde hair eyes him warily, scowling when suguru whispers something in his ear. other guests stare at him in awe but he only seems to focus on you, explaining something about working at the park with all of his friends, including the emo kid at the fryer. after a few minutes, his mouth quirks in that arrogant smile again when he nods toward the fresh purple-sprinkled funnel cake sliding across the counter. "alright, detour over. let's go find your friends."

you don't notice the phone number written on the napkin until after he's already disappeared into the fog, but he's determined to see you more than just during halloween.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#midi this one's for you #suguru x you #suguru x y/n #suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 1 year

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DMC MASTER LIST

ON GOING QUESTION/POLL (I can't actually make a real poll but I want to know some opinions lmao)

All fics are posted here on my AO3, along with other things (like my personal headcanons).

VERGIL ONE-SHOTS:

Stubborn as Always--G/N, Fluff

Si vis amari ama--G/N, Fluff, Minor Angst

Uncontrolled Instincts--Male, Smut, Rut fic.

Sweet Serenade--G/N, Smut (? Vergil "self pleasuring")

Good Morning, my Love--G/N, Smut (Consensual somnophilia)

Tapestry of Leather--G/N, Fluff, Lime (god I'm old)

Student and Teacher--G/N, Flirty Fluff

The Bed of the Blue Devil--G/N, Smut, Rut fic.

As You Wish (Part 2)--G/N, Smut

As You Wish (Part 1)--G/N, Fluff

Despite Your Flaws--G/N, Sad Fluff

What Would They Think--G/N, Angst/Sad, Fluffy Comfort

Without You--G/N, Angst/Sad, Fluffy Comfort

A Devil's Secret Wingman--G/N, Fluff

Phantoms of the Past--Male, Angst, Fluff?

DANTE ONE-SHOTS:

Rough Day?--Male, Fluff

I've Got You--G/N, Fluff, Overprotective Dante

Where There's a Will, Right?-- Male, Angst (kinda), Fluff, Smut; Dante between 2-4

Stuck in a Rut--G/N, Smut, Rut fic.

Deep Regret--Male, Sad, Fluff

A Valentine's to Remember--Male, Fluff, Smut

Song of the Heart--G/N (w/anxiety), Fluff

NERO ONE-SHOTS:

No One Else Can Have You--Male, Smut, Power Bottom Nero, Top Reader, Pre-4 Nero

Wanting--G/N, Smut

Fear of the Devil--G/N, Comfort, Fluff

The Scent of You--Male, Smut

V ONE-SHOTS:

Lineaments of Gratified Desire--G/N, Smut, Handjob (V receiving)

Stuck in a small hiding spot + Injured V (short one-shot answers)

MULTIPLE/OTHER ONE-SHOTS:

Bound by Blood: Reader & Sparda Bloodline (Platonic; comfort, angst, fluff)

STUPID THOUGHTS THAT RELATE TO DMC:

Sin Devil Trigger Vergil's tail

Vergil only has 2 things to his name

Me at Vergil when I found out about Devil May Cry

Screenshot ruining my Bloody Palace run

Vergil right after V and Urizen merge appreciation post

"Bound by Blood" re-write excerpts (semi-gory warning)

"I think I'm pretty good at playing Vergil"

Ebony & Ivory replicas. Plus, Nero and Dante body pillowcases.

How much can the Sparda bloodline lift??

Thoughts while writing a "Nero x Terminally Ill reader" fic

Vergil and Lawn Darts

Vergil tiddies

This is why I love the DMC fandom--Comment thread

DMC 2 "Dante" is actually Vergil

Teeth!

Why do Dante and Vergil in DMC5 look so different?

Can the Sparda-bloodline dance?

Kneeling Vergil

Vergil being sick but also stubborn

Do it for him

A really good Nero x G/N Reader fic (that's not mine) and why my dumbass commented lmao

Eric and Vergil

Vergil's autistic

Sparda twins and leg gaiters

Aro/Ace Dante?

SHOP LAYOUT MAP

ART:

MLP Dante

Semi-spicy Dante (Mature label)

Drifting in the ocean all alone

GOOGLE DRIVE MASTERLIST OF PROMPTS/IDEAS THAT I'LL BE DOING.

Requests are currently closed; I have WAYYY TOO MANY. It might be a while before I reopen them; thank you so much for the support!!

A quick shameless self-plug--I also have a fan-character-based story as well if y'all would consider giving it a look, I'd really appreciate it. It is both here, @adevilsfolly , and on AO3

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random-introverted-blog · 3 months

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His Star - His Queen [Chapter 8 - Changes]

Who you are - Who you're not - Who are you?

Summary: From parents one week, to a jeweler and a business meeting the next, the Ascendant has been very busy. And you've done your best to play the part of a reluctantly behaved consort.

But for how long before the lines blur?

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

Warnings/Advisories: Blood, a reference to violence, the Ascendant is very creepy again, possessive behavior, implied SA throughout, emotional and psychological manipulation.

A/N: This took a million years because I kept adding to it. There's a lot that's going to be happening soon. If we were on a rollercoaster together, we're nearing the crest of the high-drop. Thank you everyone for your patience. Please enjoy and forgive the sweat and blood all over the place. I edited as much as I could but there's so much I'll probably be making post-upload edits for awhile.

Chapter is 8,516 words.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

You find a twisted comfort in the warmth of the blood on your hands, as it decorates your arms like a piece of art and adorns the lovely little dress of various pastel colors you had been dolled up in all day.

It doesn't change that you don't remember what happened. One moment, you stood there with this peculiar, yet charming, elderly couple. Conversing with them, as they understood they were not your real parents. But they held onto the hope that you could still be a family together.

You weren't sure if you felt guilty for never telling them outright the truth of your parentage, or for the haunting screams that echoed in remnants of memory in your mind from the savagery inflicted on them in the name of your father.

Savagery that you can't remember.

But is splattered across your arms and across the room.

At some point, it seems you had attempted to infuse your glass of water with the taste of the woman's bloody finger, only to lose interest and abandon the finger in the glass. And the red, very dead eyes of the man seemed to pierce into your unwavering stare, forever frozen in a state of terror.

They were so happy to see you. So sweet. And in return for their boundless affection, you unleashed an unfathomable storm of brutality. The echoes of violence reverberated in your skull, drowning out the once rich sounds of laughter. The scent of blood and fear hung heavy in the air, mingling with the lingering aroma of freshly baked cookies that the mother had brought with her, along with a story of how she commandeered the palace kitchen. It was astonishing that his spawn hadn't erupted into a chaotic frenzy yet. You had no doubt they were the parents of the other you. You were willing to play along, at least for their sake...

"Oh dear. Now just look at this mess..." scolded a familiar voice behind you, by the door, though the tone was more amused than annoyed. His footsteps creating a soft thud as he approached then appeared beside you. "Is everything alright, my love? What happened?" he asked, worry lacing his words. Crouching down, he met your height, his hand brushing against your arm, grounding you in the chaos - with genuine concern etched on his face. From the corner of your eyes you caught his noting the pool of scarlet blood your knees have been bathing in, seeping into his expensive dark wood floorboards.

His fingers delicately pushed aside the blood-streaked strands of hair from your face, somewhat sticky with blood. "Did they hurt you?" Astarion presses, but his tone remains gentle.

You shake your head; the motion accentuated by the soft rustle of your hair brushing against the surface of your shoulders. Wrapping your arms around yourself. "I... No, but..." you pause, the words catching in your throat. Astarion's gaze meets yours, his eyes searching for answers. "Astarion, I don't have parents..." The words leave your lips softly, like a whisper carried by the wind. "Not like you know them." You take a deep breath, the coolness filling your lungs, as if it could somehow ease the weight on your shoulders. Despite your desire for him to know as little about you as possible, this is a secret that can no longer be kept safely. If you ever could.

Astarion studies you, his brow quirks in curiosity. Yet he refrains from mocking or making a witty comment at your expense. "Care to elaborate on that for me, pet?" With a gentle touch, he reached for your arms and guides you to your feet.

Whispering with a tremble that betrays your inner turmoil, the kind that's drowned out by the beat of your own heart thundering in your ears. "I... I'm a Bhaalspawn..." The words taste like a secret - heavy and dangerous, surrendered to the silence between you and meant for his ears alone.

Despite his composed demeanor, you can't help but notice the subtle tensing of his body, a slight stiffness that betrays his reaction to your words. A faint scent of tension lingering in the air, like the crackling of electricity before a storm. "I see," the silence punctuated only by his murmured response, his voice carrying a contemplative tone.

To your utter surprise, he pulls you, your body caked in sticky crimson blood, into his arms. His once immaculate red and black suit becomes stained with the dark, viscous liquid. His embrace tightens around your waist, constricting like a vice. "My apologies, darling. I should have weighed the differences between you and her more carefully." He croons, his voice low and velvety.

Rather than attempt to push him away, sneer, bite, hiss... You simply let your shoulders relax and your eyes gently shut. Like a warm blanket on a crisp autumn morning, his scent embraced you, equal parts familiar and entirely different. You shouldn't be doing this. What would your Star think...?

But you can't think. Your arms ache and your hands pulsate, likely from the repetitive actions of brutally bludgeoning the lovely couple into a mangled pulp resembling a tomato soup. Your wicked heart rejoices in the kills, feeling a dark and twisted satisfaction, a sickening feeling that emanates from deep within your chest. A profound self-hatred arises for harboring a sense of fulfillment that you realize has quietly found its home within you.

Astarion's arms tighten, his touch firm yet gentle. The sound of his steady heartbeat fills your ears as he pulls you nearer to his chest. "You're discontented with your blood," he murmurs the words, a statement rather than a question. "I'll explore what can be done, though I suspect I may have an answer already." Determination fills his voice, slender fingers threading through your hair.

"Ensure that dinner is served in my bedchamber this evening." Astarion commands, his piercing gaze sweeps over the bustling crowd of servants and guards at the door.

A half-elf servant's eyes dart nervously as he observes him. "But the guests--"

"Serve them in the dining hall as planned. Ballar will excuse our absence, and I will handle the rest in the morning," he snaps, his impatience palpable as he gazes down at you. His eyes emit a soft glow that is strangely captivating rather than terrifying. He replies impatiently as he looks down at you, eyes glowing red but soft and not all-consuming. Simultaneously, the shadows lurking in the corners of the room begin to slither towards you, their movements silent yet eerily mesmerizing. Gradually, they envelop both of you, plunging you into an abyss of darkness.

It's a strange feeling, like a gentle and chilly breeze that dances across your skin.

Then the shadows recede and you, still standing in his arms, find yourself transported to a room that dwarfs the familiar confines of your own. If opulence could be a room, this would be it.

A gentle, feather-light kiss lands on the crown of your head, sending a shiver down your spine as your attention shifts to Astarion. "I will draw a warm bath for you," he murmurs, his voice a gentle serenade that caresses your ears. "Feel free to explore the bedchamber to your heart's desire. We'll be sharing it in time, after all." With those simple words, he releases you from his warm embrace, and you watch as he gracefully glides behind you, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. Your eyes trace his every movement until he disappears behind a simple wooden door.

Though choosing to ignore his reasons, you take him up on his offer - kicking your bloody shoes off and allowing your bare feet to tread the warm, burgundy carpet throughout the space. The centerpiece of the room is the large, fourposter bed. Framed in mahogany and adorned with intricate reliefs depicting events in history... is that... the netherbrain?

Of course, only the finest silks and velvets, deep shades of red and purple, adorn the bed. Above, a canopy of rich, embroidered fabric drapes down, adding to the sense of regal splendor.

On one side of the room a large bay window, framed with heavy velvet curtains in royal blue and embroidered gold, overlooks the bustling city and distant sparkle of stars flitting above the Sword Coast. A plush window seat, adorned with soft cushions, inviting you to take a seat to relax and think, or perhaps finish the book you've been enjoying the past few nights.

The walls are artworks and tapestries, some magical and depicting wondrous scenes, others more mundane in comparison. With some of these concealed by ominous dark sheets. Between them, shelves, cabinets, dressers of dark wood you presume hold treasures or the like.

A grand fireplace dominates the other wall, its mantle exquisitely carved, a show of incredible craftsmanship. It's fire alight and casting a warm glow over the room. Nearby, an elegant writing desk equipped with fine parchment, inks and quills, very well used by your estimation, and framed by two wall sconces. The room is bathed in a soft, warm glow from the lights of the crystal chandeliers and wall sconces, creating an enchanting and regal atmosphere.

The creaking of the door beside the fireplace catches your attention and you're greeted by the sight of a shirtless Astarion, hand extended and beckoning you. "Come, love, it's ready." He says, smiling warmly when you accept and cross the room toward him.

He takes your hand and walks with you into the room, steamed slightly from the warm water and guiding you around the large marble bathtub to a shelf lined with various scented oils and soaps. "I believe we have the vanilla and amber oil you've taken to using lately, if that is what you'd like tonight." Astarion offers in a calming rumble of his chest as he steps behind you. His fingertips graze your skin as he unbuttons the dress for you, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Normally, you would smack his hands at the mere thought of him undressing you. But you're so... tired. And drained... and all you want is to clean off the blood caked on your skin.

So you simply pluck one oil after the other off the shelf, examine the selection with some mild interest while Astarion does most of the work taking the dress off you until you need to lift your arms or legs to get it off completely. In the end you settle on a cinnamon and honey scent, one he acknowledges with a silent nod and subtle smile.

It dawns on you, as he turns away with the oil, that he intends to join you in the bath... right as you realize he's as naked as you are. He returns and replaces it on the shelf before retrieving a bar of soap next.

He guides with a hand on the small of your back to the tub and eases you both into the warm water.

Just like that, you find yourself naked and immersed in a hot bath with a twisted version of Astarion, a tyrant of a ruler over... is it just Baldur's Gate or the entire Sword Coast? And to your surprise, he makes no move to touch you like that. Instead, he focuses on helping you wash in a somewhat comfortable silence.

Even as he washes the blood from your hair and face, his hands remain appropriate. He asks a few questions about your urge but nothing beyond the standard array of curious ones to better understand it - as well as what memories you do have of your life.

Then he asks you the burning question. "Did you enjoy your meeting with the cockroach today, my pet?" The Ascendant calmly asks as he sets the soap aside.

He chuckles at your tense reaction, brushing his fingers through your wet hair. "Of course I would know, darling. It wasn't much of a reach." As his arm snakes around your waist, slowly dragging you into him.

"And you're not...?" you cautiously inquire, anticipating his reaction, whether it be anger or irritation.

"It doesn't concern me." Astarion answered, his voice carrying an air of nonchalance, "he can try all he likes, but no matter what he does, his efforts will never be enough to steal you away from me."

His choice of words had you contorting in his grasp, twisting to meet his gaze. "Remind me who stole me first?" You bite and narrow your gaze at him.

Astarion's piercing scarlet eyes, shimmering with an unexpected tenderness, meet yours, locking in an intense gaze. As his hand, radiating warmth, delicately caresses yours beneath the soothing embrace of the fragrant bathwater, the soft sound of water gently lapping against the sides of the tub creates a serene ambiance. Leaning closer, his presence alone almost whispers lovingly to yours, "One day," he murmurs, his voice caressing your ears and easing your worries despite your reluctance to part with them, "everything will become clear to you, my love."

You want to say it was him who started what happens first... but deep down; you lack certainty. All you know is what follows. Your lips meld with his, the taste somewhat of metal and fine wine. The sound of your heart pounding in your ears intertwines with that of your shared breaths between kisses. As his hands trace the curves of your hips, a gentle tug brings you onto his lap, his arousal grazing against your thigh as you settle. Your hands find their place on his chiseled chest, feeling the sculpted muscles beneath your fingertips.

In the depths of your thoughts, faint whispers echoes in the recesses of your mind, begging you to stop this. Growing louder and more frantic as his hands guide you into a tantalizing grind on his thigh. But it's the soft, intimate sounds that escape your parted lips as you press them against his, filled with longing and anticipation, that abruptly shatter your daydream, causing your hands to instinctively push against him.

One of his hands holds firmly holds you close to his body, while the other hand playfully teases one of your breasts, his fingers tracing delicate patterns that make your skin tingle with anticipation. When his lips withdraw from yours, a path of soft kisses awakens your yearning, as his breath, filled with warmth, delicately sweeps across your neck. Every touch, every nibble, creates a captivating blend of anticipation and desire that floods your senses. You can feel the gentle graze of his fangs, a delicate reminder of his primal nature, as he tenderly kisses and nibbles with his teeth. The friction of your instinctive grinding against his firm thigh creates a captivating sensation that is gradually consuming you. Just as you begin to comprehend the severity of the moment, he confidently lifts your hips, leaving you helpless to resist the pull of desire...

____________________________________________________________________

Well... at least this time you're not waking up naked with him. Like you do most nights as of the last nine days.

As you wake up, you find yourself nestled against his strong, muscular body. Soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. Your cheek rests against his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. His arm draped over you, while his fingertips delicately trace patterns along your back. Their touch seeping through the fabric of your nightgown and sending a soothing sensation through your body. The faint ache in your muscles reminds you of the passionate evening you shared with him, lingering memories of him between your legs while you sat on the edge of his writing desk. However, the soreness is much milder compared to the first time. Perhaps it's the result of spending the past tenday in his constant, inseparable presence.

Sensing you're awake, his other hand gently weaves through your hair, nails tenderly caressing your scalp. "Good morning, beautiful," his voice reverberates in his chest, rumbling against your ear. You sense he doesn't expect or require a response from you, allowing you to bask in the moment's serenity. Succumbing to the blissful sensation of his fingers caressing your scalp, you let your eyelids flutter closed, prolonging the quiet embrace of comfort and ease.

Once more, guilt gnaws at you for succumbing so easily to the Ascendants' advances. Even though he forcefully brought you to climax in the hallway yesterday, pinning you against the wall, you were able to resist him for a longer time than how quickly you've given in to his embrace just now.

But you can feel something shifting in you, something wrong. Try as you might to fight it, ignore it, deny it, you're reaching the point of reluctantly admitting you are powerless to it. But that doesn't mean you're close to giving up. Once you can slip away from the Ascendant's side long enough, you can approach Elowen about using the sending stone to communicate your progress. Maybe even an update from the resistance on the "extra help" they promised you'd receive soon.

During your brief moments alone, you convinced her it was best for her to hold on to it. Malacai and Astarion were already constant shadows watching your every move. Yet every so often, he includes another "steward" to your company. But you've played the role of warily agreeable "consort" since the night he learned of your bhaalspawn blood.

Astarion continuously parades in one wedding planner after the other, and you reluctantly comply... kind of. Each time you suggest leaving the palace, it predictably spirals into an argument. But perhaps if you can persuade him to allow you to leave with the stewards trailing behind, he might become more inclined to acquiesce.

Until then, you have spent most of your days learning your own body language and manipulating it in a large, public setting to wordlessly communicate that you are, somehow, a superior breed of creature. You haven't been a fast learner, to put it mildly, but Malacai and Astarion were far from discouraged.

Gently opening your eyes and lifting your head, you meet his eyes, watching you. "What is it to be today? More dress design arguments? Wine tasting? Or simply soak in the warm embrace of sunlight?" You ask, a playful tone in your voice. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, a contented purr escaping his lips. "Mm, that last one is rather appealing," he admits, his voice filled with a lazy anticipation. "Especially if you're included."

"Do I have a choice?"

The slip of your tongue cleaves through the silence like a sharpened sword through a goblin. A storm begins to brew behind his eyes as they gently open, his previously serene facade breaking away like a cliff-face succumbing to the relentless sea. Silence slithers into the void left by your words, taut and thickening the air akin to that of a dense fog. "Obedience is a matter of choice, darling. It can be as easy or as arduous as you decide. And we've gone over a few times already how pleasurable it can be," he responds, his voice low and resonant.

As you rise, disentangling yourself from his body, he props himself up on his hands. "We have little on our agenda today, save for a jeweler whom I had Cirrus summon, and I have a meeting later in the evening. So if bathing in the sun after breakfast is on offer, I'm all pointy ears."

"Where? That indoor courtyard across from my room?" You ask curiously, tilting your head.

"No," he says with a disdainful tone, his face contorting in disgust as he visibly pictures the place in his mind. "That place is a ghastly eyesore." The words carry a hint of mockery as he sneers. "Perhaps, with your personal touch, you can breathe life into the space, hmm?" His smile emerges, accompanied by the sound of a gentle chuckle. Leaning in closer, he plants a soft, affectionate kiss on your cheek, leaving a lingering warmth. With that, he gracefully rises from the bed and heads towards his wardrobe.

The sight of pants, neatly folded and hanging in the closet, makes your heart sink. The varied colors and textures evoke a sense of longing within you. Oh, how much you miss the feeling of slipping into them, the smooth fabric against your skin. "Can I please wear pants again?" you ask, your voice tinged with yearning, unable to fight the pout that tugs at your face.

Astarion glances over his shoulder, the soft rustle of fabric filling the air as he effortlessly slips into his clothes. Today, his attire is elegantly understated, with tailored, dark grey pants that hug his legs and a sky blue shirt that accentuates his refined features. The ends of the sleeves and the collar are delicately ruffled, adding a touch of whimsy to his ensemble. "Darling," he replies, his voice gentle yet persuasive, "it's simply not fitting for a woman of your esteemed position." He turns to face you, his gaze filled with a captivating blend of sincerity and allure.

"But I'm the future wife of a godking, no? Who can say besides us what falls within and below my status?" This is possibly the first time you are using this nonsense for your benefit.

With a playful chuckle, he raises his eyebrows and surrenders by holding his hands up, saying, "As my lady wishes, so shall it be." As you open the wardrobe, he glances at the array of exquisite gowns, some purchased and others uniquely designed for you. "I'll have a tailor and seamstress called upon next, then. But will you consider that on some occasions it is better for you to wear one of these instead?" Arching an eyebrow, a subtle plea to you.

"Fine, as long as I at least get to wear pants consistently around the palace in private."

"That sounds eminently reasonable to me, pet." Astarion smiles, passing by you with a kiss to your head, leaving you to pick out a dress for the day.

Once the matter is settled, you follow closely behind him, your footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting as he leads you out of the lavishly adorned bedchamber and into the expansive hallways. As you walk, the scent of polished mahogany and the delicate fragrance of freshly cut roses fills the air, creating a harmonious blend of richness and beauty. Servants scurry about, their hurried footsteps echoing on the gleaming parquet floors.

Your eyes catch a group of them, their brows furrowed with effort, struggling to lift a massive ornate frame, shrouded in a pristine white silk sheet, off the wall. Their stifled grunts intermingle with the gentle rustling of the fabric. It's not the first time you've witnessed such a scene, but this time, you decide to halt your steps and observe. Curiosity piqued, you inquire, "Overhauling the decor, Astarion?"

He too takes notice of the scene. There is a flicker in his eyes, a fleeting moment of something indescribable that vanishes before you can fully comprehend it. "Something like that," he mutters, his gaze lingering on the servants for a moment before he turns to face you, a warm smile playing on his lips. Offering you his arm, silently telling you it's time to move on.

Despite the strong urge to ignore and walk past him, you reluctantly give in and hook your arm around his, feeling a mix of annoyance, resignation and a sense of begrudging obligation. And the two of you continue on your way to breakfast uneventfully.

__________________________________________________

Although smaller than expected, you'll agree that this balcony, adorned with delicate flowers, where he has had you lounging, has a pleasant charm to it. As you reluctantly let yourself unwind, you nestle beside him, feeling the softness of the plush bench, with its velvet upholstery, contrast his firm body. The gentle breeze caresses your skin. As you gaze upon the bustling harbor, the vibrant colors of the boats and the glimmering water paint a picturesque scene before you. The melodic songs of birds in the distance and the muted chatter of the city below blended together, creating a comforting lullaby.

He made sure you ate enough to satisfy your hunger, and now you feel your breakfast sitting in your stomach like a rock.

Your eyes peel away from the view to admire the vampire lord... god... His eyes, closed in peaceful contentment, reveal his trust in your presence. With his head slightly tilted toward the blue sky, he savors every ray of the sun, his face bathed in warm golden light. The vibrant hues of his pale skin, illuminated by the sunlight, create a captivating contrast. The scent of him enveloped you: bergamot, rosemary, and frost, intermingled with the crisp morning air. You're not sure how long it's been since he ascended, though he once mentioned that the previous you had passed away a century and a half ago. No matter how much time has passed since he secured his ability to walk in the sun, he still clearly adores basking in it.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and yet so strong, almost fills your heart with a comforting warmth for him. "Why do you need me if you have all this at your fingertips?" Your voice remains hushed, careful not to disturb the restful mood. Absentmindedly finding your hand on his chest, gently caressing it through the fabric of his shirt.

His warm hand settles gently over yours, the tips of his fingers lightly brushing against your skin. As his captivating crimson eyes open, he gazes up at the vast expanse of the sky, fluffy white clouds drift lazily across the vibrant blue canvas. "All of this power, all of these riches, they are meaningless without you by my side. If it weren't for the hope of being reunited with her, I would have simply scorched Toril, reducing everything, even the stars above, to mere ashes that would cascade upon my skin."

You feel a slight twitch in your ears, and your brows furrow in confusion. "I'm not her, Astarion," you say, your voice carrying a soothing tone and preemptively comforting. "Just as you are not mine." You hope to harness the tender atmosphere around you, using it to comfort him and create a productive conversation.

Unexpectedly, a gentle smile spreads across his face and you can feel his arm slide around your waist, securing you in his embrace. "I know."

Suddenly, the peaceful moment is shattered when the double doors leading into the morning room swing open. A dwarven man in a tailored suit, with a hunched back and a noticeably small stature - even for his race, eagerly approaches as you both sit up.

"Ah, his Almighty Majesty, Godking Ancunín and his betrothed! An extraordinary honor to be in your exalted presence!" He exclaims and bows his head with a wide smile, his thin silver hair glistening in the sunlight.

Two servants and Malacai stand outside the doors. "I am Eldon Greybeard, of the illustrious house Greybeard! Humbly and graciously at your service!" he introduces himself. His voice projects confidence and carries a hint of excitement.

Beside Eldon, three young ladies stand, their faces flushed with exertion. They struggle to balance the weight of the large, cumbersome trunks in their delicate hands. Beads of sweat form on their brows as they try to maintain composure. Eldon's quick movement startles one of the girls, her wide eyes reflecting surprise and relief as he yanks a trunk from her delicate grasp.

Deciding to take that as your cue, you separate yourself from Astarion, who stands up from the bench with you. Effortlessly commanding the shadows lurking in the corners of the balcony, where the sunlight cannot reach. With a mesmerizing control over the darkness, he simply pivots the bench to face the doors. In a tender gesture, he takes your hand and interlocks your fingers, while the dwarf pops the latch to the trunk and flips it open, revealing its contents.

Proudly, the man spins the polished mahogany case around with a gentle creak to display its contents. Bracelets, glimmering in an array of colors and designs, catch the light, their intricate make and materials captivate the eye. The subtle scent of polished gems, worn leather and delicate metal. The Ascendant vampire, his crimson eyes locked with yours, as he guides you both to walk around and sit on the bench. Returning his gaze to the dwarf, his voice cut through the air with a dismissive tone. "We've no interest in these."

Eldon's eyes flit between the bracelets then you and forces a small chuckle. "Yes, of course, my apologies." Then he carefully closes the trunk and sets it aside. With a simple point at the other girl, she sets down the one she's carrying, and he swiftly opens it for you while Astarion releases your hand to slide his arm around your shoulders.

Arranged meticulously in orderly compartments, a multitude of rings sparkle and shimmer under the golden sunlight. "Judging by the ring size your messenger provided, each of these rings should fit the queen's finger flawlessly," Eldon proclaims with a hint of pride. A confident grin spreads across his face, as if reflecting the sparkle of the rings themselves.

While you were indifferent to viewing the selection from where the trunk sat on the ground, the vampire lord effortlessly beckoned one of his servants with a mere flick of his hand. Obediently, the servant grasped the trunk and positioned it before you both. The sight of the servant's pale, trembling hands gripping the trunk contrasted with the dark, weathered wood. The subtle creaking sound of the trunk being hoisted tickled the air. Allowing you to see every detail of each ring clearly and with ease.

You're half expecting him to pick one for you, but he remains eerily silent. His eyes glide over the options, examining them intently, but his hands remain motionless, refusing to reach out and touch any of them. "Astarion?" you inquire, curiosity tinged with a hint of confusion.

He meets your gaze, his piercing red eyes locking onto yours offer a blend of amusement and affection, and shakes his head slowly. "It's your ring, my treasure." The sound of his voice is soothing, melodious in your ear. With a gentle smile playing on his lips, he whispers, "Pick one, pick two, pick them all if it pleases you." His hand, warm and comforting, caresses your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

Awkwardly, you find yourself gazing back and forth, your eyes tracing the intricate details of each ring. Part of you still yearns for that black band, adorned with scattered silver and blue gems. The memory of it tugs at your heartstrings. But you know deep down that you could never tarnish the purity of that memory by wearing it as your engagement ring to him.

Chuckling, an impish glint dances in your eyes as you delicately raise the cool, smooth silver band, feeling its weight between your fingertips. The silver gleams in the light, captivating your attention, even though you typically have no interest in jewelry without practical or magical value. As you gaze at the ring, a hint of amusement tugs at the corners of your lips, finding it a tad on the nose to wear when you're engaged to a vampire lord, yet undeniably adorable.

"Really, darling?" With a playful tone, Astarion inquires, his voice laced with feigned annoyance as he gazes at the ring you're holding up, allowing him to see the intricate design—a round ruby, nestled within the claws of a bat. Its eyes, adorned with two smaller rubies, seem to shimmer with a mischievous gleam.

Refusing to look away, your eyes hold on to his as he playfully rolls his own in a mock display of exasperation. The sound of his chuckle sends a shiver down your spine, a delightful sensation that lingers, much as you hate to admit it. Finally, unable to resist, he takes the ring from your outstretched hand, examining every intricate detail for himself.

As he carefully scrutinizes the ring, the balcony becomes alive with a hushed energy. The air carries a palpable sense of anticipation, entwined with the delicate fragrance of roses in a nearby vase. Your heart dances with a blend of exhilaration and jitters while you anxiously await his final decision.

Astarion gently places the ring back into your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. With a slight nod, he signals for Eldon to continue showcasing his collection. As the dwarf busies himself, his back turned to you, a tall Elven man gracefully emerges from the shadowed corner of the balcony. You couldn't help but notice the way he stood, hands clasped behind his back, and the lingering scent of a peculiar scent that seemed to permeate the surroundings. "My sincerest apologies, my revered Godking," he says, his voice filled with deference. "I humbly request a moment of your undivided attention."

A look of irritation crossed the Ascendant's face as he rolled his eyes. "By the hells, Ballar," he muttered, his anger evident in his tone.

"It is regarding a certain pest problem."

His arm stiffens around your shoulders, causing a slight discomfort. An uneasy silence settles over the atmosphere. Then, following a tense pause, he starts to rise from his seat, his movements betraying his restlessness. Just as he starts to rise, you reach out and gently grasp his arm, bringing him to a sudden stop. "You know what, Astarion," you say, your voice wavering with hesitation and uncertainty, "I think I'd prefer some time alone to gather my thoughts. About what you said this morning, and moments earlier." You suggest, a silent plea echoing in your heart, hoping he understands the turmoil within you.

Reluctantly, he nods in agreement with an unenthusiastic expression. "Just" his subdued acquiescence barely audible amidst the stillness "don't stray for too long, pet." A hint of caution lacing his words,

Feeling relieved, you hand the ring back to him and gracefully get up. The soft rustle of your clothes mixes with the faint murmur of voices drifting up from the bustling city below. The fragrance of blooming flowers that adorn the nearby flowerbeds dances in the air, mingling with the crisp, refreshing breeze that caresses against your skin.

Excusing yourself from the ornate balcony, you feel a sense of liberation washing over you. Malacai moves to join you, but with a subtle wave of your hand, you motion for him to remain behind. Finally alone, you relish in the silence, craving the chance to collect your thoughts amidst the cacophony of emotions that swirl within you.

Unconcerned with Astarions' instructions, you meander purposelessly through the palace, your footsteps echoing through its grand halls, the intricate tapestries and glistening chandeliers catching your eye. Echoing through the wooden floor in the halls, the soft sounds of distant footsteps create a soothing environment.

As you walk, you can't help but flex your right ankle from time to time, checking the tightness of the shackle. Sure enough, it's still there. Honestly, what a surprise - surely it would have slid down your ankle and freed you already.

Your sarcasm, thankfully, hasn't diminished at all.

What else could it possibly be used for, you wonder? Preventing you from leaving without permission is a likely bet. But It can't just be a means of forcing you to remain seated.

Gods above, you wish you could explain the shackle in the scant messages you've been able to get through the sending stone. Its full utility remained elusive, yes, but you could sense it would pose a formidable obstacle to whatever plan your Star had devised to get you out of here.

You're not sure how exactly, but you find yourself in the alchemist's office if the myriad of variety of plants were your first guess, their leaves reaching out towards the sunlight that streamed through the dusty windows. Empty glass bottles glint in the soft light, lining the shelves in the office. The workbench is a chaotic mess, with scattered papers and spilled substances. A distinct earthy aroma, with undertones of herbs and potions, wafted through the air. Your fingertips brush against the rough surface of the tables as you navigate further into the room, a sense of curiosity guiding your steps.

One plant catches your eye that you don't believe you've ever seen before. A large, worn tome sits adjacent to it, left open with a stunning rendition drawn on the right page, while the left page refers to it as the Slumberthorn vine. The text explains that these despite its deceptively soft appearance; the leaves are razor sharp and laced with a powerful toxin that can swiftly induce sleep in even the strongest, heaviest of humanoids.

You ponder the idea of the toxin entering the bloodstream, but the text clarifies that the toxin's potency is such that it works directly on the skin. Skillful distillation of the toxin can yield a powerful anesthetic, but the process requires expertise. The idea sparks a faint curiosity, but you quickly dismiss it. You never cared much for poison or the like, even in the depths of your stunted memory.

Why let a poison have all the fun your hands could have?

A memory comes to mind from your first day here. When that woman threw the broach, narrowly missing your face and leaving a small, shallow cut on your cheek. How quickly the Ascendant materialized in the room. Perhaps it was the distinct fragrance of your blood that permeated the air, reaching him from a considerable distance. Or maybe...

You lowered your gaze to your ankle, fixating on the shimmering silver and gold hues of the small band that smoothly encircled your skin. It had become all too familiar, the constant, subtle, gentle weight of it pressing against you, that you couldn't escape. If he possesses some kind of magical connection to the band, enabling him to track your every move, this experiment might just be worth a try. Escaping from the confines of the palace was your only chance at freedom. Perhaps this... precarious experiment would prove worthwhile in the end.

Undoubtedly one of the most foolish choices you could make, and that's saying a lot. With a careless gesture, you grab the book, shutting it with a resounding thud. Without purpose or direction, you fling it nonchalantly over your shoulder; the book flying through the room before landing elsewhere with a soft thump. And before doubt can creep in or hesitation can take hold, you gingerly press your finger against the leaf, feeling its soft and smooth surface. Instantly, you feel the minuscule razor-sharp barbs beneath your fingertip, poised to pierce your skin, yet you keep your hand steady.

Instinctively, you pull your hand back as the room abruptly plunges into darkness, leaving you disoriented. The world around you begins to spin, causing a whirlwind of blurred images. Struggling to maintain your balance, you take a cautious step back, the faint echo of your racing heartbeat fills your ears. Suddenly, a wave of weakness engulfs your body, causing your leg to buckle beneath you before giving out. With a desperate attempt to stay upright, your other leg follows suit, and you're vaguely aware of falling onto your side.

You shift onto your side, nestled in his frigid arms, glimpsing your vampire lover behind you in the bed. The dimly lit bedroom in the elfsong tavern envelops you both, shadows dancing on the walls. A symphony of scents dances through the air. The lingering scent of aged wood and a subtle hint of candle wax, which mingles harmoniously with the soothing aroma of bergamot, rosemary, and a gentle whisper of aged brandy that is unmistakably him.

You aren't surprised when his sharp red eyes lock with yours, a silent understanding passing between you. The blankets wrap around both of you, cocooning you in their comforting embrace. Your legs intertwine with his, creating an intimate tangle beneath the covers. With tenderness, you lift your hand, feeling the coolness of his cheek as your touch meets his pale skin. "We'll get through this, my love..." you whisper, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet night.

His eyes flutter closed as your fingertips gently glide over his chiseled, smooth chest, accompanied by the soft sound of his contented sigh. "I know, my star..." he murmurs, his words barely audible, the sound blending with the gentle rhythm of your breathing. His eyes, filled with unwavering resolve, find yours once more, a silent promise reflected within their depths... and...

Suddenly, your body jolts forward, disoriented as you awaken. The cold, hard floor beneath you goes unnoticed in the initial moments, your vision still blurred. As you struggle to regain your senses, a distinct aroma of musty old books and damp earth fills the air. Gradually, as the dimly lit room gradually comes into focus, your groggy mind registers the presence of the vampire ascendant kneeling beside you, his hands firmly gripping your shoulders, shaking you awake. Through the haze, you hear their gasp, a combination of concern and surprise. "Hells, Tav, what's gotten into you?" their voice echoes in your ears as they pull your dazed body into their strong, crushing embrace.

You refuse to let on the dream you had, though you risk playing it over and over again in your mind. If you had to choose between living every day of the rest of your life with this... mockery of the man you love. Or relive that night before Cazador over and over with the real Astarion...

Well... at least you answered one question.

...Slumberthorn vine toxin doesn't need to break skin to be effective.

____________________________________________________________________________

"Remember, you are merely an observer..." He reminds you for the millionth time and deliberately ignores as your eyes roll again, though you do motion to him that your lips are sealed.

Upon returning to the balcony with him, the jeweler was dismissed until a more suitable time. But you weren't in any mood to play the obedient "consort" any longer, and you adamantly refused to put on the ring, which, of course, ignited yet another heated argument.

Needless to say, you were itching for the day to conclude. Why did you even need an engagement ring when everyone knew by now who you were? More like what you were.

You both enter the sitting room without acknowledging the two guards standing watch outside, their presence nothing more than an afterthought. But you still freeze in place when you step through the doors and enter. Astarion teases - his mischievous voice fills the air and sends a thrill down your spine as he playfully remarks, "It's not the first time the staff have cleaned viscera, my sweet." You stand there, completely awestruck by the sight in front of you. The room, once a gruesome mess, now gleams with pristine cleanliness, not a trace of blood or severed fingers left behind.

Your eyes were so fixated on the transformation that you failed to notice the presence of two figures standing near the couch and table, their dark robes flowing and white masks concealing their identities. As you take in the familiar attire, memories flood your mind, reminding you of a certain friend and the House of Grief.

You glance at Astarion and realize he is purposefully keeping you behind him. Though you sense no danger, it's as if he's merely sending a message. "And what news do my kingdom's resident Sharrans bring? Progress on the Unamina?" He inquires as he slowly crosses the room, with you close behind.

One of them locks their arms behind their back. "Indeed. The mother superior herself departed some time ago in search of the necessary components and sent word of her success. Now all that remains is a suitable location." They spoke confidently, their partner extending their gloved hand and offering a wooden case for protecting a scroll.

Astarion's eyes light with an expression you can't read and don't like. His grin proudly displaying his fangs as he, a tad too quickly, accepts the scroll case into his hands. "Wonderful! And what of her return? How soon should I have the carpet rolled out?" He chuckled, tucking the case under his arm closest to you. This wooden case was far from ordinary; it possessed an air of magic, with its shimmering, decorative adornments. Somehow sinister and foreboding in nature...

"Soon. Two days, perhaps three." The other replied, clasping their hands in front of them. "It was far from simple to procure the scroll. The Nightsinger will expect adequate repayment from you, Godking Ancunín, for utilizing her faithful in such a way."

"It is only because of my grace that her church thrives in my kingdom. The least she could do was loan me her toys for this little treasure hunt of mine." He mutters, rapidly losing interest in the Sharrans as he lifts and studies the scroll case in the chandelier's light above his head.

You could feel their eyes studying you from behind their creepy white masks, if only for a moment. "The Mo—"

Astarion tightly tucks the case under his arm again, his piercing glare locks onto the pair. "Tell her," he commands, his voice commanding yet smooth, "to come straight to the palace upon her arrival. I'll ensure preparations are made that she receives a worthy welcome." He gracefully pivots on his feet, the sound of his expensive shoes clicking against the polished wooden floor. "Our business here is concluded," he declares with authority. "Please see yourselves out." With a snap of his fingers, the two guards outside stride inside, seemingly already aware of their orders.

Like you have all day, you shadow Astarion, but not before you steal a quick glance over your shoulder at the two Sharrans. Of course, you have a myriad of questions. What were they doing finding... whatever that scroll is? Why would the Sharrans and the Ascendant work together at all? Could Viconia still be alive and in charge of the Baldur's Gate cloister? Did your alternate self help this world's Shadowheart kill that bitch?

Shadowheart... you miss her terribly. You miss all of your companions, but you formed a deep bond with the cleric.

It's been a century and a half since the other you died, so who knows how long it's been since the Absolute crisis. You vaguely recall that Halsin has also passed in this world, but you can't remember how exactly you know that. Unless Wyll and Gale found means of prolonging their human lifespans, they've likely passed on. Same for Karlach and her engine, and Lae'zel - assuming your favorite Gith didn't return to the Astral Plane. Shadowheart was about fifty years old when you met her. On average, half-elves can live for about a hundred and fifty to two hundred years. If, and it's a significant if, she's still alive, she would be in the twilight years of her life. Assuming assassins or the like haven't taken her out.

Gods, this is so depressing...

The sound of the door closing echoes in the room, snapping you back to the present moment. You realize you're back in Astarion's bedchamber. Where you've been sleeping since the night he learned of your urges.

He carefully placed the case on a dresser that was pressed against the wall, creating a soft thump. He fumbled through his pants pocket to retrieve the small box and extended the ring toward you. You turn away, arms crossed, and he lets out a deep, exasperated sigh. "What do I need to do to sway you into wearing it?" Astarion asks, vexed by your behavior.

Nothing. There is absolutely no chance that I will ever wear it - is what you want to say. That you picked one out at all means nothing. It was just a cute ring...

Frustration boils within you, leading you to flail your arms aimlessly for a brief moment as you grapple with your inner turmoil. What you want to say and what would make sense are in opposition. "You... you never even took the time to propose to me properly!" you scoff, glancing away and tightly crossing your arms once more.

"Properly?" He inquires, his tone laced with bewilderment rather than frustration, as he cocks an eyebrow.

"Yes... Unless you consider forcefully taking me against my will as your bizarre idea of a romantic gesture..." You have absolutely no clue what is coming out of your mouth. Why are you acting like this?

Astarion's eyes twinkled with amusement as his lips curled into a smile filled with... happiness, then carefully placed the ring on the dresser next to the scroll case. "Very well. Perhaps I'll organize something of that nature while you're away tomorrow."

Now it's your turn to be puzzled. He can't possibly mean what you think he means... "Apart from your momentary lapse of judgement today, I have been pleased to see improvements in your behavior, and I am inclined to recognize and reward your growth. We can go over the particulars after you've rested." He explains with a calm and patient demeanor, taking measured steps towards you. Shrugging off his shirt and tossing it carelessly to the floor.

His feather-light touch delicately brushes against your cheek, sending a tingling sensation through your skin. His slender fingers leisurely trace a path downwards, their gentle caress leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Eventually, they settle beneath your chin, cradling it affectionately. Tenderly, he lifts it slowly, bringing your lips closer to his, the minuscule distance between you teasingly suspended.

"You wouldn't dare run from your home - would you, my queen?" he murmurs, his voice a velvety purr that resonates deeply within you. You shiver at his words... the accusation they carry. Toying with you, he continues. "That would be very foolish, wouldn't it, pet? You are mine. Completely and unequivocally. There is not a rock in all of Toril you could hide under that I would not find you, darling." His voice is dripping with a honeyed sweetness that conceals an underlying threat.

Then he closes the miniscule distance between your lips. Sealing his words with a gentle, sweet kiss. Amidst the tender exchange, you manage to blurt out, "What's in the case?" Each word escapes between the fleeting kisses.

Astarion's lips curl into a smug smile, their warmth grazing against yours, creating a soft and lingering touch, accompanied by the faint sound of his satisfied sigh that tickles your senses. With a delicate gesture, his fingers caress your skin, gently tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear. An arm encircles your waist, creating a tender embrace that simultaneously holds a hint of possessiveness. As he pulls you against him, you can feel the strength in his touch, both gentle and forceful and it sends a shiver down your spine. Then, he whispers, his voice laced with determination, promising, "The means to ensure nothing can ever take you from me."

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

Batstarion ring? Sad dream? A potential way to cure your bhaalspawn-ery? Sharrans? Mysterious scrolls?

A lot to chew on this chapter.

…So previous Tav was NOT a Dark Urge… Hm.

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useless19 · 8 months

Text

Still going with this.

Tw: vomit

...

Bowser curses as he fails to turn around. The palace toilets might be a step above most of the ones in the castle town, in that the flush works and they look clean. However, none of them have been built on Bowser's scale. His shell has gotten wedged every single time he's tried to use the loo.

Granted, that's only been twice so far (once during his armour fitting and now), but that's plenty!

Bowser grits his teeth as he twists around. He (stupidly) picked the stall at the end of the row, so now he has a rough stone wall on one side and flimsy wood on the other. The wood groans as his shell spikes gouge into it, bowing it horribly.

The bathroom door bangs open. Bowser freezes. The last thing he wants is to be known as the guy who got stuck in the toilet. He's not even officially employed yet.

There's some shaky breathing, then the other person retches. Bowser can hear the splatter of liquid into the sink. Eww. He'd been half considering actually washing his hands for once and now this? There's another cough and splutter and then a weak sob.

Okay, screw this. Bowser shoves his way out of the toilet (taking out the cubicle wall and knocking the door off one hinge).

Prince — very soon to be King — Luigi stares at him. He's unhealthily pale and his hands are shaking.

"How long have you been there?" Luigi asks in a thready voice.

"Your pre-coronation party was boring." Bowser waves at the destruction. "Petty vandalism is way more fun."

Luigi frowns at the splintered wood, but instead of growing angry and shouting for Bowser's arrest like his brother would have, his eyes widen in realisation as he looks at Bowser again.

"Oh, that's…" Luigi coughs into his fist, clearing his throat. "I'll have to speak to the architects about remodelling. Is there any other part of the castle that you think might need adjusted?"

Bowser crosses his arms, annoyingly embarrassed. "It's fine, it's big enough. Too big for stumpy humans like you."

"Stumpy? That's the first time anyone's called me short," Luigi manages the ghost of a smile.

"Get used to it."

"The castle doesn't feel big to me," Luigi says. "Maybe it's just because I grew up here and I'm used to it. Sometimes it feels too small for anyone. Claustrophobic, even."

How an entire castle could feel small, Bowser would never know. One thing's for sure; he doesn't need it rubbing into his snout that he didn't grow up in luxury. He can't stand up in his childhood house without bashing his head on the ceiling (that is, if it had survived the fire).

This is going to be a miserable job if the king insists on showing off his wealth and privilege at every opportunity. Bowser reminds himself that the pay is good as he turns away to wash his hands in a different sink.

"Are you done throwing up in sinks now?" Bowser asks gruffly.

"I…" Luigi loses what little humour he had when Bowser glances at him. "I'm sorry. I'm nervous about, well, everything that comes with my coronation."

"Everything," Bowser says flatly.

"It's a lot of pressure and I don't know if I'm up to the task." Luigi says. "It's a difficult job. What if I mess up and people think I'm a terrible king?"

"Oh, boo hoo," Bowser snaps. "I'm the king and I get to live in a massive castle and sleep in a feather bed and never have to worry about where my next meal's coming from, but I still worry that people won't like me! I'm so privileged I can't appreciate that my bathroom has consistent running water. I'll just whine about my petty little problems to everyone because I don't even have to play the social game because I'm the bloody king!"

Smoke hisses through Bowser's fangs with his words. He knows he's scary when his fire threatens. Prince Luigi's fists are balled and trembling as he glares up at Bowser. Good, let him fear.

"Are you finished?" Luigi says.

"Depends if you're going to complain about how hard such a cushy life is again," Bowser says, flexing his fingers.

Luigi looks at his reflection, anger blotching his cheeks. Bowser folds his arms, wanting… more, somehow, but he doesn't know what it would be. How hard can it be, really, being the king? You want for nothing and everyone has to do as you say. The last king knew that and —

Shoot.

This isn't Mario. This isn't the king that Bowser's spent most of the past five years railing against over petty laws and unnecessary arrests (mostly his own). This is someone unprepared for their new job and still grieving a family member.

Fine, whatever. Bowser knows how to be delicate. Or at least he knows how to get someone refocused on the job again. Same difference.

"So when do you need to be back out there?" Bowser asks, nodding towards the door.

"I should be there now," Luigi says. He splashes some water onto his face but only succeeds in making himself look like a drowned squeek.

"They can't have the ceremony without you. When do you want to go back out there?" Bowser says.

"It doesn't work like that," Luigi says. "Even if I'm royalty, I still have to follow the rules or —"

Bowser rolls his eyes. "I don't mean you have to order people to delay it. No one does everything on time all the time. If you want to put it off for another day, find an excuse."

"I don't want to put it off," Luigi says. "I'm not going to get more confident for waiting."

That's abundantly clear. Bowser tilts his head as he thinks. Has Luigi honestly never lied to a tutor to get an extension on his work? Or told his advisors he was meeting with someone reputable in order to sneak out to a party? What a straight-laced wimp.

"Alright, on your head be it," Bowser says.

"It will." Luigi coughs, hiding what Bowser is sure is a smile. "The crown, I mean."

Bowser can't help his snort of laughter. "That's terrible."

As awful as the joke is, it's at least wiped away the worst of the misery clouding Luigi. Bowser straightens Luigi's fancy fur-trimmed cloak before remembering that randomly touching royalty is the sort of thing that can get lowlifes like him a one-way ticket to the hangman. Well, he's never met a situation he couldn't brash his way through.

"Drink some water, go back out," Bowser says, shoving Luigi towards the sinks. "And I'll get a rumour spread that you narrowly avoided assassination so those poncy nobles think you look shaken because of that."

"Which would also highlight the importance of hiring on a bodyguard," Luigi says wryly.

"Now you're getting the idea."

Luigi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He splashes water on his face again and then takes a drink using one of the cups on the shelf behind the sinks (who puts cups in a communal bathroom, seriously?). He doesn't look ready to do anything as important as getting crowned, but he doesn't look a shade away from passing out like he had before.

"Okay, let's go," Luigi says.

He pauses at the door and turns back to face Bowser instead.

"Is running water still a problem in the castle town?" Luigi asks. "Mario had the pipes overhauled a few years ago; I thought —"

"Nah, not anymore," Bowser says. "But I bet you didn't have to worry when the urchin infestation was at its worst."

"No, you're right, I didn't," Luigi says. He sighs. "Sorry."

Bowser groans. "Stop that."

Complaining about the silver spoon in his mouth is one thing, being pathetic is another. Bowser refuses to put up with self-flagellation while he's working, it brings down the whole mood.

"Go knock 'em dead," Bowser says.

Luigi gives one last determined nod and then leaves.

Bowser runs a hand through his hair. He's going to have to wait a few minutes before heading out on his own and then he really should hang around at the ceremony for a bit. Mostly he needs to make sure he's a visible presence at court because half the job of being a deterrent is reputation, but also partly because assassination attempts are a legit concern. There probably won't be any (if Bowser's luck is anything to go by, this is going to be the most boring day of his life), but maybe it'd be fun to make it look like there's a threat to watch all the rich people panic.

Bowser counts to a hundred and then shoulders his way out of the bathroom after the soon-to-be-king.

#bowuigi #bowser #luigi #smb #fanfic #knight&king!au #part 4 #have rough ideas for 1 more part + an epilogue #(going to be fairly plotless overall)#~1400 words

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wheretheharekissesthefox · 6 months

Text

Feeling safe

Astarion has a nightmare about Cazador and seeks out Tav's comfort.

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, consensual blood drinking, fluff, the feels, angst, claustrophobia, PTSD responses, character study, consensual manhandling, body worship, only foreplay basically, smidge of frottage)

Notes:

According to DnD lore, elves don't sleep, but rest in a meditative, trance-like state called reverie. You can see Astarion do exactly that in camp during a long rest when a sleep-around-the-campfire cutscene plays.

It was hot and stuffy in the coffin – and so, so tight. Astarion panted, scratching his fingernails bloody on the wooden panels, but he was stuck.

He'd defied his master and disobeyed him again. He hadn't brought a poor soul home only to watch how his master sucked them dry. He didn't want to. It wasn't right, and now, he'd received the appropriate punishment.

Cazador had grabbed him around the throat, shaken him like a naughty kitten, and recited his four rules: "First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shalt obey me in all things. Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine."

Then, the vampire lord had bitten Astarion, right where he'd already left his mark before when he'd turned his spawn. Dug his teeth in mercilessly and brutally, making the scar worse and more prominent than on his other spawns, and drank from him. Disobedience had to be punished after all. Astarion had screamed in pain, had felt how his strength faded. Cazador had shoved him into a coffin then, and had instructed his other, frightened, spawns to seal it. When his siblings had nailed him into his claustrophobic cage, Astarion had screamed, cursed, pleaded. But nothing had helped.

Now, he was still in the attic, in the coffin, all alone. Scared, hungry, hurt.

"Cazador, let me out!" he shouted for the thousandth time, banging his bloodied fists against the sturdy wood. "Please... Master. Master, I'll do anything you want, but please let me out. I'll do anything, I swear it. Please, Master, please."

Tears streamed down the vampire spawn's face. It was so hot and stuffy in the coffin. There wasn't enough air, he couldn't breathe. His prison seemed to get smaller and tighter. He couldn't breathe.

"Master! Master, please! Let me out!"

The walls drew in and he couldn't breathe.

Astarion shot up from his bed, gasping for air and shaking all over. He wasn't in Cazador's palace but Gale's tower house in Waterdeep. Home, he was home. Still trembling and sick to the stomach, Astarion got up and left his basement room. He needed to assure himself that he wasn't dreaming anymore. As he walked upstairs, he heard Tav sing softly, deeply immersed in composing. The sunlight fell through the big windows, illuminating the bard like an angel. Astarion stumbled towards her like a moth towards a light source.

"Tav," he whispered.

The addressed turned around and frowned when she realised what state he was in.

"What's wrong, love?"

Instead of answering, Astarion fell to his knees and around her neck. The bard carefully placed a hand on his trembling back.

"What's gotten into you? What happened?"

"A nightmare," the vampire spawn muttered. "Cazador. I - I was back in -"

He fell silent and kissed her instead. Tav felt his desperation and soothingly caressed his waist. Panting, Astarion looked at her, pleadingly.

"I need you, Tav. I need you to make me feel loved. Please."

"Anything for you, Astarion."

The bard stood up, pulling the vampire spawn with her, and gathered him up. Astarion wrapped his arms and legs around her and let himself be carried to the bedroom. There, Tav lowered him onto the mattress and kissed his forehead.

"What do you need, love?" she asked softly.

"You," he answered, all but ripping his clothes off.

The bard followed suit, crawling onto the bed. She kissed him tenderly before making her way down his neck, across his chest, and down his entire torso until she reached his public bone.

"No," Astarion muttered when she licked his member.

Tav hummed understandingly, bypassing his genitals to kiss his inner thigh. The vampire spawn sighed and tried to relax. The bard kissed the arch of his foot before giving his other leg the same treatment. Astarion outstretched his arms towards her. Tav got up and leaned over him, asking: "What do you need?"

"Kiss."

Smiling, the bard complied, tenderly brushing their lips together. The vampire spawn sighed into her mouth before wiggling and turning around. Tav knew what he was asking for and littered his back with kisses and kitten licks. Astarion sighed and moaned lowly, revelling in the gentle affection that spoke of the bard's love for him. When Tav was done kissing every single speck of his skin, Astarion rolled over again, pulling her into a sloppy kiss.

"Thank you, darling. I feel much better," he said. "The nightmare's dread's only a distant memory now."

"I'm glad."

"May I drink from you?"

"Of course, Astarion."

With a hungry expression on his face, the vampire spawn pushed Tav into the mattress, climbing on top of her. She went willingly, letting him have control of the situation. Astarion nosed along her neck before biting down and feeding from her. He moaned at the familiar taste of her. It was comforting. Safe. Involuntarily, the vampire spawn rutted against her muscular thigh, seeking for friction. He swallowed one more mouthful before drawing back, and licked the wound clean.

"You're delectable as always, darling," he praised.

Sighing deeply, he slumped onto her, snuggling up against her broad chest.

"You make me feel safe, you know?" he mumbled lowly. "I feel comfortable around you."

"Thank you. That's the best compliment one can receive," Tav replied and kissed his temple. "Rest now, Astarion. I'm watching out for you."

Humming contently, the addressed closed his eyes while the bard ran her fingers through his hair. Astarion drifted back into reverie, feeling warm and cozy. He was home. He was safe. And Cazador was no longer a threat.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion ancunin #tav #mind the trigger warning

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viatagrinner · 1 year

Text

Gilbert von Obsidian. Chapter 6

MC follows Gilbert. The beautiful hallway of the palace is stained scarlet by the setting sun. It seems to her that the hall is drenched in blood.

Gilbert calls out to her. He looks at her suspiciously.

Gilbert: Is there something you want to tell me?

The heroine wants to tell him nothing.

With a chuckle, the prince led the girl on. He quickened his pace.

She couldn't catch up with him. Her sore leg began to hurt.

Realizing that he hates lies, MC chooses her words as carefully as possible.

MC: Prince Gilbert... I'm tired.

Gilbert: Then I'll carry you.

☆Fun fact☆: Gilbert uses the word 抱っこ - dakko - carrying a baby in one's arms; carrying a pet in one's arms, child's hug.

(That was the goal!?)

She refuses.

Gilbert: You never learn, do you?

Gilbert: Which do you prefer: voluntarily let you be carried or forced?

The heroine says it would be embarrassing. Gil notices that when she doesn't like something, she gets funny/reacts funny.

In spite of his slender build, he easily lifted MC up.

Gilbert: If it bothers you, I'll kill anyone, so everything will be fine.

Gilbert: I'll drop you if you act aggressive, isn't that what you're trying to do?

His words are serious, and she stopped resisting.

(I wonder if that's one way to isolate me, too.)

Gil asks the girl to hold his cane. It was a heavy cane.

The prince brags with a smile that he sometimes hits people with it.

MC inspects the cane and asks if there is anything built into it.

Gilbert grins and says it is a secret.

The girl immediately thinks of letting Chevalier know.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

The garden

Gilbert carried the heroine into the garden. There she saw Chevalier standing in the middle of a pool of blood. The dead man was being carried away by knights.

And the Second Prince was covered in blood.

The girl covered her mouth with her hand.

Gilbert: Miss Bunny, is everything all right?

The girl can barely get the words out of her mouth. Gilbert suggests that she stay and not come any closer to this "filth."

(Prince Gilbert seems used to it.)

Gilbert puts his arm around her.

???: Here's the thing, Gilbert. Aren't you making too much fun of our little bunny?

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Clavis came out of the gazebo.

Gilbert explains that Miss Bunny really wanted to see Chevalier and he agreed to help her.

Clavis: And how did you know where my brother was?

Gilbert: Because I recently saw Chevalier.

Meanwhile, Chevie nonchalantly wipes his bloody sword and puts it in its scabbard.

MC wants to understand what happened.

Clavis tells him that it's no big deal, it's just fun/play. His brother is a genius who likes to pick fights.

The girl, though shocked, realizes that the corpse was once an assassin.

Gilbert replies that Chevalier has long had no reaction to murder.

(Neither does Prince Gilbert...)

Chevalier looks shrilly at the girl.

She replies that she will talk to him later, since he is busy.

The prince lost interest in everything and walked away. His back was also covered in blood.

It wasn't the sight itself that shocked the girl more, but the fact that Chevalier didn't react in any way.

MC: No one has the right to kill people.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

She breathes shallowly to inhale less of the smell of blood, and Clavis stands in front of her to block her view.

Clavis: I owe you an apology for showing the young lady something I shouldn't. ...Cyril.

The man who was doing the "cleaning" approached Clavis.

He was a knight with bright red hair and wore a leopard emblem on his chest.

Clavis tries to distract the enemy prince with dinner.

Gilbert: No way, are you going to separate me and Miss Bunny?

Clavis: Oh. You're not exactly conducive to comforting a broken-hearted young lady. ....No, you're too much.

Clavis: The young lady would be more than happy to be alone with me, wouldn't she?

Gilbert: That's not true. You'd be so sad to be separated from me, you'd cry.

(Perhaps... Mr. Clavis has something to tell me.)

Choice:

1. go and enjoy your dinner.

2. I'm not alone, so it's okay. ✔

3. I'm lonely, but I'm okay

MC: I'm not alone, so it's okay.

Gilbert: Do you know the word "flattery"?

MC: I think Prince Gilbert would hate me if I said something I didn't mean.

Gilbert: Hmm...you're right. You are clever.

Gilbert: Okay. I don't know what evil Clavis is up to, but I'm hungry.

Gilbert: I'm going to torment your knight and blind him, so get the little hare back as soon as possible, okay?

Cyril: ....Goodbye, my peace of mind.

Gilbert finally puts the girl down.

But before he leaves, he says that Clavis is more dangerous than he is.

(I don't think there's anyone more dangerous than Prince Gilbert.)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Clavis took her to the pond. Clavis was no longer smiling. This made MC nervous.

Clavis: I want to ask you, seeing this scene...

In her mind there was an immediate assumption: she would be asked to keep quiet or tell the other princes everything.

Clavis walked around the tree and returned with something in his hands.

The heroine confused...

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Now they're digging holes... Her heart aches at the way the beautiful garden is being destroyed.

Clavis asks if the heroine can hear him. He gets an affirmative answer.

Clavis: Really? Since you didn't answer, I thought you were fainting while standing still, ha ha!

What do they dig holes for? For traps, proudly replies the prince.

Hearing this, MC wants to leave this strange occupation behind.

Clavis agitatedly asks her not to drop the spade.

She doesn't feel like digging, she feels like crying.

Clavis: It's a special trap that the fate of the nation depends on, you know?

MC: I don't want to participate in creating a trap where our lives are at stake.

Clavis: Haha, listen to the end. Falling into this pit is a disaster for the whole world.

MC: Is this a diplomatic issue?

Clavis smiles, diligently digging a hole and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

The prince remarked that this would be his prank, not as serious as this incident of that man [Gilbert] setting people up.

In Clavis' opinion, Gilbert set the whole thing up.

Clavis: This man has wanted to kill our Chevalier for a long time.

Clavis: Because it's a threat. Chevalier is responsible for most of our country's defense.

*And a long explanation of how good the Chevie was. Anyway, without Chevie, they would have been... fuc... screwed... They would be in trouble.*

But Gilbert is known for never losing. But Chevalier is alive... It turns out that...

Clavis calls her a "smart" woman.

Chevalier and Gilbert are both geniuses. Even in a senseless murder there is some purpose. It's hard to compare them to ordinary people, so when dealing with geniuses, you have to be careful.

After this speech, Clavis picked up the spade that MC had placed on the ground and held it out to her.

Like Yves, Clavis worries about her, too. As cold as the world is around the heroine princes on her side.

Her hands stopped shaking. Clavis' smile grew wider.

For his help, the girl agreed to do "a little" digging.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

MC: Mr. Clavis, why do you think Prince Gilbert showed me Prince Chevalier?

Clavis: Is he jealous? You and Chevalier are good friends, haha!

She remembered Yves' words. Maybe this is Gil's way of trying to isolate her even more?

(At this rate, I'm probably going to get stomped by malice.)

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

This is such a ridiculous situation 😆👇

Evening...

Clavis and MC are sitting near their creation - the deep hole they dug.

Gilbert, on his way back from dinner, has fallen into the hole.

Instead of getting angry, he remembered that he had heard from an acquaintance that this kind of sitting is called "kneeling on the ground."

(Prince Gilbert...however, happily jumped into the pit).

Cyril took the prince to Clavis and MC, and hid himself in the bushes to watch the obsidian prince.

However, Prince Gilbert, known as the ever-victorious Marshal, couldn't help but notice the trap.

The image of him jumping into the pit with a cheerful smile and a spectacular landing was imprinted in her brain as a trauma.

Clavis: I was surprised you couldn't take a joke like that. You're so narrow-minded.

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Gil asks how MC is feeling, does her leg hurt?

Gilbert: I'll carry you... Okay?

She didn't have the energy to argue. Her leg really did hurt.

Taking MC in his arms, he entrusted her with the cane. She squeezed it tightly.

Clavis: Heh... You really want to hold MC, don't you?

Gilbert: It's a great way to show how close friends we are.

Clavis thinks Gilbert doesn't need to show off.

Clavis: I hear you're madly in love with MC.

Gilbert: Haha, I'm embarrassed to say I'm in love.

(...Although deep down I don't think so.)

In exchange for Gil getting trapped by Clavis, he wants to ask a favor.

Gilbert: Can I get an invitation to a party for two... no, for three?

Clavis tensed up because the prince had asked for three invitations to a secret party.

But Clavis quickly pulled himself together; now Gilbert is a special guest.

For some reason, the heroine gets goosebumps running down her body with a bad feeling.

Gil invites Miss Bunny.

Gilbert: You want to know who sent the assassins to Chevalier?

━━━━━━━༻❀✿❀༺━━━━━━━

Gilbert's Masterlist

#Psychologists! Write down the Clavis method of getting rid of depression! 😂#Cyril? When is your route coming out? His appearances in the story are rare but always memorable #GilMobil... or GilUber 😂🤣#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikemen ouji #ikepri translation #ikemen gilbert #gilbert von obsidian #ikemen prince gilbert #gilbert von obsidian masterlist #ikemen prince gilbert von obsidian #ikepri gilbert #I only now realized that Gil was holding Emma in his arms while he was talking to Chevalier...#...Knowing Chevie he probably didn't think it was a romantic gesture but something like The Eyepatch you're up to something again 🤔🤣

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sixty-silver-wishes · 1 year

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Tumblr's Guide to Shostakovich: Part 2- Background and Beginnings

Hello, and welcome back to Tumblr's Guide to Shostakovich, the series where I talk about the life and works of Dmitri Shostakovich! Today, I want to talk some about his family background, and about his childhood. The main sources I'll be using for this post are Dmitri Shostakovich: The LIfe and Background of a Soviet Composer by Victor Seroff and Nadezhda Galli-Shohat (who was Shostakovich's aunt), Pages From the Life of Dmitri Shostakovich by Dmitri and Lyudmila Sollertinsky, and Shostakovich: A Life Remembered by Elizabeth Wilson. Photos are from Dmitri Shostakovich: The Life and Background of a Soviet Composer and the DSCH Publishers website.

Dmitri Shostakovich was born on September 25, 1906, to Dmitri Boleslavovich and Sofiya Vasiliyevna (nee Kokaoulina) Shostakovich in St. Petersburg, Russia. His maternal grandfather, Vasiliy Jakovlevich Kokaoulin, hailed from Siberia and advocated for improved working conditions for miners in the Lena Gold Field, where he became the manager. Sofiya Vasiliyevna was one of six children, and studied music at the Irkutsk Institute for Noblewomen; her brother Jasha became involved with the growing revolutionary movement. When a student protest on Kazan Square in February 1899 was violently disbanded by armed Cossacks, Sofiya and her siblings became more deeply sympathetic towards the revolutionaries; her sister Nadezhda Galli-Shohat would become a member of the Social Democratic Bolshevik Party (she would later come to disagree with Bolshevism and emigrate to the United States in 1923).

(Sofiya Vasiliyevna Shostakovich, the composer's mother. 1911.)

Shostakovich's father, Dmitri Boleslavovich Shostakovich, came from Polish origins ("Shostakovich" is actually a Russification of the Polish surname "Szostakowicz.") and worked as a senior keeper at the Palace of Weights and Measures. His father, Boleslav, was deeply involved in the Polish revolutionary movement, and organized the release of Jaroslav Dombrovsky, who had been imprisoned due to his part in the Polish Uprising. As a result, Boleslav was exiled to Siberia. (Side note- Shostakovich's first name was nearly "Jaroslav," but the Orthodox priest at his christening advised his parents to name him "Dmitri," after his father.)

(Dmitri Boleslavovich Shostakovich, the composer's father. 1903.)

(The composer around age one and his sister Maria ("Marusya"), 1907.)

By the time Shostakovich's parents were raising their three children in a middle-class household on Nikolaevskaya Street, revolutionary sentiments were sharply rising; Shostakovich himself was born just a year after the "Bloody Sunday" massacre of 1905. However, another major component of the artist young Mitya Shostakovich would become was highly present in their home- music. His mother was a skilled pianist, and his father- a "kind, jolly man" who would sing to her accompaniments. Shostakovich would listen to his neighbour, Boris Sass-Tisovsky, play the cello, and the Shostakoviches would take their children to the opera. Seroff and Galli-Shohat include an anecdote illustrating the contrasting personalities of Sofiya and Dmitri B. Shostakovich: "Sonya [Sofiya] gradually weeded out most of the Siberian friends of Dmitri's [Boleslavovich] student days because, for her, there was too much of the "muzhik" [term for a male peasant] about them and in these days she sought a different society. Dmitri took all this reform very good-naturedly and only retained, in spite of all that Sonya could do, his heavy gait and his rough, Siberian-peasant way of speaking. Sonya would have despaired of his slangy speech except that she knew his gay and lovable disposition always won him friends wherever he went. "Sonya, Sonya," he would say, shaking his head and looking at her over the top of his glasses, "I'm a bad one. Squirt me another glass of tea."

(Mitya, Maria, and Zoya Shostakovich with their parents, 1912.)

Despite an early recognition of his talents as a prodigy, Shostakovich was never pressed into music unwillingly; for the most part, he had a happy childhood with his sisters Zoya and Maria, gathering mushrooms, reading adventure books, and watching their father play solitaire (which would later become one of Shostakovich's favourite pastimes as well). However, at the age of nine, after attending a performance of Mussorgsky's The Tale of Tsar Saltan, Mitya was able to recite and sing most of the opera from memory the following day. That summer, in 1915, he began piano lessons. Among his first childhood works was the "Funeral March for Victims of the Revolution;" he recalled that he "composed a lot under the influence of external events," a trait that would come to follow him throughout his future career. He took lessons from Ignati Glyasser, and later Aleksandra Rozanova. By the time he entered the conservatoire at age thirteen, the city he was born in had been renamed to Petrograd; WWI had meant a Russification of the name "St. Petersburg" due to anti-German sentiment. In 1924, it would once again be renamed "Leningrad," following the death of Vladimir Lenin. (Today, the city is once again called "St. Petersburg," following the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991.) Shostakovich's enrollment was on the recommendation of the composer and professor Aleksandr Glazunov, who would play a highly significant role in his conservatory years.

(Aleksandra Aleksandrovna Rozanova, Shostakovich's piano teacher.)

(Ignati Albertovich Glyasser with his piano class, 1917. Dmitri Shostakovich is located second from the right in the first row; Maria Shostakovich is located fourth from the right in the second row.)

In the next few entries, I will talk more about his adolescence and conservatory years, along with some drama in his personal life. ;) See you then!

#dmitri shostakovich #classical music #music history #soviet history #russia #classical music history #composer #russian history #shostakovich #tumblr's guide to shostakovich

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freeuselandonorris · 3 months

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for the ask game: 1, 19, 20!

heyyyy thank you for asking! 🫶

what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

ooooh bloody hell. let's see. 1. being an only child in a single parent household. it's made me very happy with my own company (sometimes to a fault) and very close with my mum. also probably contributed to why my inner fantasy life is so active lmao 2. having a period of very poor mental health through my teenage years/early 20s. i basically lost the years between 13-23. it's made me very careful about looking after myself now i'm older and it forced me to have to understand myself more. it's also made me more keenly aware of not wasting more time. 3. art school. i went to a fairly prestigious art school in london and it really opened my eyes to class (i'm northern and working class) - it was the first time i'd really come across PROPERLY priveleged people (a close friend was the daughter of a tory mp and i was later a bridesmaid at her wedding at westminster palace lmao, weirdest day of my life) and realised just how much the world was skewed to their success. also made me realise i like making art but i hate the art world and most art people. still wanna write an art school AU one day.

19. favourite thing about the day?

when i'm having a good head period and can manage it, my morning routine is the best. i get up and make my lil coffee (V60 4 lyf) and then sit down and write for an hour - i like writing first thing before my brain is knackered from Life - and listen to lauren laverne's 6music show, then i read for however long i have left before work. sometimes i'll burn incense or a nice candle. for a while i was doing morning pages too although i find them a drain long-term. it's just my time, yknow? i try not to look at my phone or anything.

i'm going to be moving to a partly office-based job again and not being able to do my morning routine on those days is the thing i'm most upset about.

20. favourite things about the night?

i'm the kind of person who has a brain that is constantly chewing on to-do lists and anxiety spiralling about All The Things I Must Do and i like feeling like i am mostly done with the day's tasks by evening (even though i find it hard to stop percolating them or adding more sometimes). recently i've got into the habit of listening to shaun keaveny's daily grind podcast on my headphones while i cook my dinner which is a rly nice way to mark the end of the workday, although i guess that's evening more than night.

i like that the night can be either end of the spectrum - it can be the time for extreme cosiness, feeling safe and protected and sleepy, or it can be the time for excess and sleaze. when all the hidden things come out to play!

from questions i think it would be fun to be asked!

#ask meme

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crowning-art · 1 year

Text

TGCF SPOILERS (Book 3)

---‐----------------------

Without further ado, thoughts on chapters 153-157!!!

Sjjsjdjdjf, the three tumors give me the same vibes as those super popular, but very problematic cliques you see in schools, lol

Speaking of three tumors I STILL MISS SHI WUDU JEISJDJDJDJ Every day I live in a fantasy that someone, somehow, magically got the powers to resurrect him and he's alive in a dungeon somewhere (gotta make it a little realistic, yknow? *she says in utter denial*)

SHUT UP! THIS LINE SENT SHIVERS DOWN MY SPINE OH MY GOD

“Very well! You said I couldn’t reach that high. Then, might I ask you: had the prominence of the Palace of Jing Wen at its peak ever reached even the knees of my Palace of Ling Wen??”

So hopefully, I'm remembering things right about events in Xuli: pei ming was a general there, his people wanted him to rebel and become king, he refused, Ling wen was from the same place who sold shoes and tricked a man into killing himself (brocade story), also wrote multiple beautiful lit pieces and thus ascended. I don't think we've been told yet how Xuli truly fell, but I'll do a refresh read tomm just in case!

Also the Jing Wen and Ling Wen story was just sooo utterly fascinating to me, because it centers around a person whose insecurities acc had a much greater repercussion than he realized. See, had he not made her ascend, she wouldn't have played such a major role in hurting so many people after her ascension (refer to brocade robe incident) and all of this was done for what? To satisfy his inferiority complex. It's kinda crazy to see how everything plays out in the long run, yknow?

WAIT WHAT????? I did not see this coming dudhjdjxkdk THIS DUDE WAS A STONE STATUE TALKING???

However, the one who was questioning Xie Lian wasn’t actually a “man”, but an extremely coarsely-made stone statue of a man, its body bare but wrapped with cloth; somehow bizarre and at the same time silly.

Stop I was laughing at the chaotic-ness of this whole scene lmaooo, especially this part

It’s alright if you won’t chop yours off, I’ll chop off his!”

He was referring to Pei Ming. Pei Ming was dumbfounded.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Also

YO THE ABSOLUTE IMAGERY HERE OH MY GOD IM SCREAMING ITS SO BEAUTIFUL T-T

The bloody rain that had enveloped the sky had transformed into a fluttering shower of flower petals!

There was no need to even guess who had come. Xie Lian curled his fingers and clenched his hand, clutching that flower petal as the name blurted from his lips.

“San Lang!”

Blossoms fell like dripping blood; blood danced like petals in the wind. That face was as spirited and handsome as the first time they met, his eye bright and alive. He languidly sheathed that long and slender silver scimitar back into its scabbard, and spoke with a deep voice.

“Your Highness, I’ve come back.”

The next time I face the most minor of inconvenience such as phone battery low or smt, I'm using this line by pei ming lmaoo

“Where there is abnormality, there is evil; everyone be careful.”

Ok I HAVE A NEW THEORY (or acc it's me reiterating EXACTLY what I said last time lmao)

So if you look back at one of the chapters at the end of book 1, specifically the part when Goushi is discussing a dream with Xie Lian, he talks about being dragged down from ascension, the crown prince wearing only white clothes, and a kingdom falling into ruin....SOunD fAmIliAR???

The contents of the mural in this divine temple were completely different from the previous one.

They started studying it from the highest level, the top of the painting. A white-clad young man sat poised upon a jaded futon, his brows quietly handsome. It was that Crown Prince of Wuyong. His eyes were tightly shut, and judging from his posture, he seemed to be in deep reflective meditation. However, it wasn’t tranquil.

Like, HES EVEN MEDITATING THE WAY XIE LIAN DID WHEN HE WAS TRYING TO USE A STATUE TO HOLD THE XIANLE PALACE UP AND there's more, but the whole scene just SCREAMS parallels to Xianle (I also scream the same thing lmao) LIKE HOW ELSE CAN THIS BE EXPLAINED??? SOMEONE RELIVED THE WHOLE THING BEFORE?? UNLESS IT'S JUN WU??? GOD, I CAN'T LET JUN WU GO THIS DUDE IS INVOLVED IN SMT, BUT I DONT KNOW WHAT

Hua Cheng is 100 percent aware he is in a book, and that book is a ROMANCE book, while everyone else is out there living out the horror genre in every way conceivable lmaoooo

Even though it wasn’t the right time, Xie Lian still felt his heart skip a beat in spite of himself.

“Are you tired holding this up? How about I hold the umbrella for you…”

The others were fleeing and dodging, running madly; seeing how the two were having a good time, they couldn’t stand it, and couldn’t help but call out.

“Hey! Isn’t that unfair?!”

“Hua Chengzhu, may I ask if you have any spare umbrellas??

NO I ACC FORGOT YIN YU EXISTED AND PANICKED WHEN THE EARTH MASTER SHOVEL SHOWED UP CUZ I WAS LIKE WIND MASTER MY BELOVED??? ARE YOU OK??????

Aaaaaand the roasting session continues! On today's menu: roasted Yin Yu!!

Even if one was to stare at his face for two hours, after a good night’s sleep, his appearance would be completely forgotten the next day, so no doubt this was a molded fake face?

“…”

However, a moment later, that black-clad youth said, “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but, I…I really do look like this.”

Yikes cuz imagine being called plain faced and forgettable in front of your colleagues :/

HOW DO U EXPLAIN THAT U GAVE YOUR DEAREST A CURSED ROBE THAT WOULD MAKE THEM KILL THEMSELVES THO??

He’d always felt there was a misunderstanding between you in regards to the Brocade Immortal affair and wanted to hear your side of the story, so he could explain it to others. Yet, there was never any sign of you, nor any communication.”

Ok but low key that's kinda precious, like Qi Ying gaves me major dog vibes, constantly trying to return to owner kinda thing, yknow?

Loved loved loved how casual everyone was about this

“Everyone, a question. Have we dug into a mass grave?”

Pei Ming also pulled out a femur, sighing.

“Probably. Look at the structure of this bone. It must’ve belonged to an exquisitely beautiful woman with long, slender legs. To have her bones buried here, what a real shame.”

“Very unfortunate indeed,” Hua Cheng said. “The legs are long, that’s for sure, but that’s the bone of a man.

ALSO AAHHHHH BUT I LITERALLY STOPPED AT THE PART WHERE EVERYONE DISAPPEARS IN THE CAVE AND IM LIKE NOOO WAIT WHATS HAPPENING SJDJJDJFJF

“No,” Hua Cheng said. “But it’s precisely because there’s nothing that it’s worrisome.”

BRO IF HUA CHENG IS WORRIED, I THINK THERE IS A CAUSE FOR CONCERN HERE

#tian guan ci fu #tgcf spoilers #tgcf #heaven's official blessings spoilers #heaven’s official blessings #hua cheng #xie lian #tgcf journey #ch 153-157 #Ya'll #there is so much info #I had to go back and do some refreshing like how did the first ascension go down again?? And what was yin yu doing with brocade robes??#My questions were answered #however I was left even more confused like massacre at a banquet?? What happened then??#Hsndndn I think I'm gonna go through my old posts properly tomm and also mark all the chaps down properly)

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super-unpredictable98 · 1 year

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A Royal Spooky Fuck Up | Misfits Timeline Anomaly’ verse

An oc x oc collaboration between @seanfalco & @super-unpredictable98

Word Count: 4,7k

Warnings: Strong language, ghost stuff, mention of death

a/n: Soooo we ended up forgetting to tell you guys something lol we thought it was pretty dehumanizing to call each of the Nathans "Lyddie's Nathan" or "Win's Nathan" so we gave them nicknames. Lyddie's Nathan is now Nate and Win's Nathan is Nats. Hope it's not confusing and that you enjoy our second quad adventure for the @sheehalloween

(Masterlist)

The year was 2022, life was just starting to look normal again, as normal as it gets. It was the end of a long eight show week in Six, where Lydia had been playing Anne Boleyn for a few months and she was rewatching The Crown.

"Oh my God," she sobbed. No matter how many times she watched the scene where King George VI was found in his bed, she always cried. "And she wasn't there, Elizabeth wasn't there!"

"I thought you were anti-monarchy?" Win said as she walked through the living room to find her wife in tears in front of the telly.

"I am! I'm very anti-monarchy, I'm practically an anarchist," she wiped her tears with her sleeve. "I mean, King George got us through World War II, he was a great person. It's just a hobby, but I don't support it, our money pays for their luxury while everyone is struggling with the energy bills... horrific!"

"Yeah, no kidding, it's disgustin'," Winnie scoffed, though she plopped down next to Lydia on the couch.

"Oh shit! Did yeh hear?" Nats cried, skidding into the room.

"Hear what?" Win asked, frowning at him.

"We just saw it online, the Queen kicked th'bucket," Nate tilted his head seeing his wife's red puffy eyes. "Oh shit, bad time?"

"THE QUEEN DIED?" Lyddie screamed. "She was okay a couple days ago! What happened? She can't just die! What the fuck? Out of nowhere?"

"Well, not exactly out of nowhere, love, the woman was nearin' 100..." he murmured.

"So much for anti-monarchy," Win grumbled, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, she was good and old, one foot in th'grave an all, y'know? People have been waiting for this for a while..." Nats added.

"Everybody knows you can be a republican and still like the Queen! It's the Queen! The only one I've ever known, the only one my parents ever knew..." Lydia tried to work through the shock. "And what's the alternative? Carrot finger Dumbo and his mistress?"

"Th'alternative? Uh, I dunno, abolish th'whole bloody monarchy?" Win muttered.

"Don't know if y'know Lyds, but um- back in Ireland we're not her biggest fans," Nate sat down, stroking her back. "Pretty sure the chants in the streets now are Lizzie's in a box... but we're all here, we love ya."

"Yeah, course we love yeh. It's gunna be okay," Nats assured, sitting down on her other side.

"They've been here forever, they're not going anywhere," Lydia clung to Nats. "Oh no! The corgis..."

"The corgis will be fine," Nate murmured. "I think you're still gettin' over Betty White and Sond-"

"Don't say Sondheim or I'll cry..." she breathed, nearly a whisper. "I was gonna meet the Queen next month, the Royal Variety Performance."

"Maybe we should turn off Th'Crown," Win suggested, grabbing the remote and turning off the television while the boys comforted her.

"Hey, would it make y'feel better if we tried t'conjure th'Queen?" Nats exclaimed, snapping his fingers as he thought of it.

"You're gonna... conjure Queen Elizabeth? Won't she be angry at us? I mean, our flat is a dump next to her lavatory, let alone the rest of her palace," Lydia pouted.

"Well then guess you'll just meet the new King and Queen when you're singin' next month..." Nate teased.

"Queen consort! Camilla could never! And the new King is a self-proclaimed tampon, no way! I wanna meet the OG."

“Well, maybe we won’t conjure her physically,” Nats mused, tapping his bottom lip in thought. “What if we used an ouija board just t’talk to her?”

“How would you even know if you were actually talking to Queen Elizabeth?” Win snorted.

"We ask? Ghosts don't really have a reason to lie, do they?" Lydia watched as Nate made her a neon pink board.

"I guess that one time Jamie just omitted the fact that he was dead... he didn't lie," he sighed heavily.

“Or if they’re evil spirits,” Win said, pitching her voice low for effect while wigging her fingers ominously.

"Don't be silly... we can all see ghosts, if there were evil spirits roaming around I think we'd know. The ghosts we see are the ones we attract," Lyddie scoffed, trying not to think too much about that possibility.

“Serve yourselves then,” she shrugged.

“Aw c’mon, Winnie, at least come out your fingers on th’plancette,” Nats said, gesturing for her to join them around the coffee table.

"Please stay with us, just... don't move it around on purpose," Lydia asked, somewhat scared of what could happen. She didn't wanna end up like the Exorcist girl or another stupid child who misused the board.

"She wouldn't do that, it's okay, none of us would... maybe me, but I'm givin' you my word," Nate assured.

“I promise I won’t take th’piss,” Winnie said, holding her hand up solemnly before grinning at her wife and placing her fingers on the edge of the planchette. “So, how d’we start this thing?” she asked, looking at Nate.

"Oh, this is exciting, it's like The Craft... only hopefully with a better ending," Lydia cleared her throat before closing her eyes.

"When you're done don't forget t'say goodbye," Nate warned. "Okay okay. Hello spirits," she nodded and he covered his mouth not to laugh. "We are holding this seance to reach a very special person, we hope you all understand. Only positive energies are allowed in this circle and we humbly ask Queen Elizabeth Alexandra Mary of Windsor to come forward."

For a long moment, nothing happened, and the four of them held their breaths, their fingers trembling on the planchette, but it didn’t move.

"I guess I should explain... your majesty, I'm Lydia Young, I was about to perform in the royal variety show with my wife Win. My Irish husbands are here too, but no hard feelings."

"Well, some hard feelin's, my family... sorry we can talk politics later, Lizzie," Nate shook his head just as the planchette moved to hello.

Win’s brows rose and she nearly pulled her hands away. “Holy fu—“ she breathed. “It’s actually moving.”

“Ask her somethin’ else, Lyds!” Nats urged, excitement coursing through him. He half wondered if it was only working because of his and his twin's medium powers.

"Um... your majesty, did you attend your son's second wedding reception wearing white as retaliation for when Camilla wore white to his first wedding?" Lydia asked.

"Seriously? That's your question?" Nate chuckled and for a long time, nothing happened again.

“Did we lose her?” Win wondered aloud, watching the board for any tremble of movement.

Instead of drifting towards the yes or no, the planchette vibrated slightly before moving to the letter S.

"S? what does that mean? I, M..." Nate watched it in confusion.

"Simon? Why is she talking about him?" Lydia felt another shiver, but instead of excitement, this time it was fear.

"Guys, I don't think we're talkin' to th'dear departed Queen," Winnie whispered, her mouth going dry. She wanted to pull her hands away or yank the planchette to the 'goodbye' scrawled in the corner, but she couldn't move.

"Oh well, I think we have the wrong person, so... we respectfully ask to end this seance and say goodbye," Lyds stammered, but her hand was pulled as the spirit started to spell another word.

"Oh shit... MU... MUR... Murder, that's just great," Nate grimaced, shaking his head and regretting every decision he made that day.

"Simon and Murder," Win mused. "Oh fuck... I think we're talkin' to--" her exclamation cut short as the table beneath the ouija board began to vibrate.

"Sally? Is that you?" Lydia asked and the planchette surged towards the yes. "Oh, for fuck's sake, we know he killed you, you were gonna send us to jail! For a self-defense murder!"

"Wait who's Sally?" Nate asked before his mouth fell open. "Oh... the corpse bride lookin' cunt who gave me shit for that brick on her windshield!"

“Yeah, our probation worker,” Win added.

Nats opened his mouth to ask what to do next when the lights began to flicker ominously and the planchette began to move again. “What’s she spellin’ now?” he yelped, hoping no one could hear how freaked out he was.

"Justice... oh please! You're dead!" Lydia cried, but she didn't want to upset the spirits. "I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry. It's just that he had to do it."

"We're good people! We never killed anyone cause we wanted to. Please fuck off," Nate pleaded.

“Let’s hang up, this call is goin’ nowhere,” Win said, dragging the planchette over to the ‘goodbye’ in the corner. “See ya, y’frigid bitch,” she muttered, wiping her hands.

“Guess she’s still pissed at us, even after all that time,” Nats mused. “Y’d think she’d mellow out after findin’ her boyfriend in th’afterlife.”

"Maybe they went to different places," Lydia pointed one finger up and one down. "I mean, Tony wasn't amazing, but he didn't do that to us cause he wanted to either. He was possessed."

"Maybe," Nate shrugged. "Can't see her anywhere, so it's over. Don't worry."

"I'll call Simon to put a Greek evil eye on his door," she jumped in search of her phone.

"I don't think Tony woulda turned violent unless he already had violence in his heart," Win murmured thoughtfully as she picked up the ouija board to put away. "But I'm glad that's over with, it gave me the skeevies."

"Probably, think we all got powers that had to do with who we are. I've always felt really vulnerable, so I got a shield. Nathan is dumb so he can't die..."

"Hey!" Nate laughed. "Don't think that's why!"

"I was afraid of bein' seen as a leech, so my power's leechin' other peoples'," Win muttered, still kinda sore about that one, even if it did come in handy.

"Don't say that, your power saved us so many times," Lyddie emerged from their room with her phone to give her wife a hug. But just as she took the other woman in her arms, the bedroom door slammed shut

Yelping in surprise, Win jumped into her arms. "D'you think...? It couldn't have been Sally, could it? We ended the seance..." she whispered, a chill running down her spine.

"She never said goodbye, but... Nate said he couldn't see anyone," Lyds held her protectively. "It was probably the wind, I left the window open."

"Right, yeah. The wind..." she agreed hesitantly, shaking her head, her voice trembling slightly. "C'mon, let's go make something to eat."

"Yeah, there's some leftover curry, I can toast some bread," Lyddie tried to not freak out for everyone's sake.

"Yummy! I'm starvin', all the supernatural shit really drained me," Nate hopped on the stool and leaned over the counter.

“Are you really not even a little rattled?” Win asked the boys as she pulled the dish of leftovers out of the fridge for Lydia.

“Nah, what’s she gunna do?” Nats scoffed, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug.

"Your mum and our brother have t'make the biggest effort t'visit. What makes Sally so powerful that she could haunt us?" Nate agreed.

"Don't worry baby, nothing is gonna hurt us, I'm here," Lyddie smiled reassuringly.

Lydia’s words placated Win for the time being, but by the time they were getting ready for bed, more strange things began to happen.

“Nate, did you filch my clean pyjamas from th’bathroom?” Winnie huffed, emerging in her towel, her hair still dripping.

"That would've been a great idea t'see you naked, but no... someone got there before me," Nate gave his brother an accusatory glare.

"I can find something for you to wear," Lydia offered, opening the top dresser drawer and screaming when the bottom one opened as well, hitting her legs.

“What, it wasn’t me!” Nats cried, his exclamation turning into a sharp shriek of alarm as his wife cried and jumped back. “Oh shit! Lollipop, you alright?”

He quickly rushed to her side and kicked the dresser door shut. Suddenly the lights began to flicker faster and faster before the door slammed shut with a whoosh leaving them in darkness.

“I’m fairly certain that wasn’t th’wind this time!” Win exclaimed, having jumped into Nate’s arms atop the bed.

"Yeah, we might have a problem," Lydia murmured, letting Nats embrace her. "How can we banish her? She's so salty for no reason! She took my brother's phone, he was just trying to get it back."

"I don't know, I'd call my priest uncle, but things were a little awkward after the... y'know, fake possession stunt," Nate shared a look with his twin before loosening Winnie's towel to get a peek at her goods. "Ooh, nice, never gets old."

She gave him a halfhearted smack to the shoulder but didn’t bother recovering herself.

“I’m gunna ignore th’bit about a fake possession, though I’m definitely curious,” she said, looking between the two. “Maybe we should call a priest though? Not your uncle, but a priest?” she asked, her gaze going to her wife.

"Do you know any priests? I've never even been to a church, my mum's a former Catholic turned atheist and my dad's a Jewish hippie," Lydia covered them all in a force field as one of her Tony awards was launched from the shelf.

"I don't know, maybe there's some 0800-priest. Do we know any pastors maybe? Or monks? Maybe your dad knows a rabbi!" Nate asked.

“No, sorry. My family never went t’church either.” Win shook her head. “Maybe we could call th’local parish? See if they can help us?” She suggested, wincing as several books exploded from the shelf.

"We can't sleep like this! Let's go over there right now, I'm not letting this cunt hurt you. Nate, get us dressed, we're leaving," Lydia demanded.

"Right now? It's late," he said, though he followed her instructions, snapping his fingers to dress all of them up. "Could be dangerous."

"Not as dangerous as sleeping with a vengeful spirit in our house. Someone will have to help us."

“Will anyone even be there at this hour?” Nats asked, quickly shutting his mouth at the look his wife threw him.

"If there isn't, we're spending the night with my parents," Lyddie shoved a few essentials in a backpack and headed to the door while covering herself and the others still.

"What if she tries t'follow us?" he wondered as they walked across the estate to the big cathedral.

"Then I guess we better hope th'priest is in," Win murmured.

As expected, the doors at the church were locked, so Lydia banged with both fists while Nate tried to unlock it.

"Hey! We need help! We messed it up and now we're haunted!" She screamed.

After several minutes of their pounding and Lyddie's screaming, the door finally swung open, revealing a very disheveled looking man.

"Yes?" He exclaimed, leaning heavily against the church door.

"There are millions of bloody priests in the world, why the fuck he's the one helpin' us?" Nate hissed.

"Oh my... this is... this is new," Lydia's legs nearly gave out when she saw him, an exact copy of Nathan but with some facial hair. Not much, but enough to make her weak in the knees.

I fancy a priest, I'm so going to hell if I die one day, she thought, even more turned on by how sleepy and messy he looked.

"What, may I ask are y'doin' bangin' on th'door at this hour?" The priest asked, his gaze taking in all four of them.

"Oh..." Win breathed, discreetly reaching for Nate's arm, subconsciously trying to remind herself that she was married.

"We're bein' haunted!" Nats exclaimed, breaking the silence. "We need an exorcism, STAT!"

"We're so sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you, but it's really urgent," Lydia tossed her hair and fixed her posture. There was nothing wrong with being attracted to this guy, it'd not like anything would ever happen anyway. "There's a vengeful spirit throwing things around the house, we were trying to communicate with the Queen and things went south. We really really need your help," she pouted slightly.

“Why were y’tryin’ to talk to th’Queen?” the priest scoffed, amusement breaking the annoyed expression he wore. “Come on in, I gotta get dressed,” he murmured, gesturing for them to follow him.

"The royals are sort of a hobby of mine," Lydia obeyed, turning agape at Win like a giddy fan meeting her idol. "Even though I'm not exactly a fan of authority... can I ask what's your name, father?"

"Get a grip, you're married! And thinkin' what you're thinkin' about a priest is a sin for sure," Nate whispered in her ear.

Win met Lyddie’s look with one of her own and had to fight to stifle her snicker as she overhear his hissed warning.

“Uh, it’s Kay,” the priest answered distractedly, leading them to his office, which doubled for a bedroom. “Sit wherever y’like, make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, gesturing to a few worn armchairs in the corner while running his other hand through his close cropped curls.

"Thank you," Lydia smiled, already grateful to Sally for being so stubborn.

Nate took a seat and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her like a dog protecting his bone. "You're shameless, woman," he scolded.

"What? I didn't do anything, and you are right. We're married, for over ten years, you should be over your silly jealousy by now. He's a man of God, I could never!" She fought not to laugh. "I just hope he can help us with the house. Right, Winnie?"

"Yeah, I hope so too," she agreed, sharing a tiny grin with her wife.

"Okay, now get me up t'speed," Kay exclaimed as he returned to the room wearing his vestments. "You said somethin' about en exorcism?" he asked, sitting down on the arm of the chair opposite them.

"Yeah, we're bein' haunted by th'ghost of one of our probation workers," Nats explained.

"Almost fifteen years ago we were arrested and had to do some community service. My brother and this probation worker were having some sort of relationship," Lydia winced thinking about it. "She passed away during an accident and today when we tried to communicate with spirits, she's the one who came forward and she's really angry for some reason. We were wondering if there's anything you can do."

Kay looked thoughtful for a long moment. "I can come and bless your house, I s'pose."

"That's it?" Nats exclaimed incredulously.

"You say that as if you can do it yourself..." Lydia gave him a pointed look. "That would be great."

"Sorry, we're not exactly wired t'trust priests," Nate muttered.

Kay winced and opened his mouth before shutting it again, deciding better not to ask. "Since I'm awake, I suppose now's as good a time as any," he said instead, getting to his feet. "Shall we?"

"Yeah, we're so sorry by the way," Lyddie got up, fixing her skirt. "That whole mess might just make me religious."

"Mhmm, the mess," Nate took her backpack so she wouldn't have to carry it on the way back.

"Oh hush, you," Win hissed, nudging his shoulder as they filed back out the church and back into the night.

"D'yeh think this'll actually work?" Nats wondered in a hushed voice. "No offense to our lookalike priest," he muttered.

"I really hope so, this has t'be worth it," Nate rolled his eyes, following behind as the girls led the way. "Otherwise we'll have t'move out or some shit."

Once back at the house Nats entered hesitantly, looking around to see if Sally was still around. "I think th'coast is clear for th'moment," he said, turning around to let the others in.

"Ah what a bitch!" Lydia gasped when she saw their stuff scattered all over the floor. "Sorry, I didn't mean to curse."

"You sure?" Nate held up the two halves of her destroyed signed copy of Junji Ito's Uzumaki.

"That cunt whore!" She yelped and immediately covered her mouth, shaking her head in embarrassment.

"It doesn't bother me if you swear," Kay assured her, pattering her shoulder lightly as he stepped past her, surveying the room.

Suddenly a vase fell from the mantle, smashing on the ground and making them jump. "Wow, you weren't kiddin', that's one angry spirit," he murmured.

"We have no idea why..." Lyddie shrugged, taking Nate's hand when she noticed he was staring daggers at Kay. "You'll fix my book later, right? And our trophies..."

"Ask him..." he huffed stubbornly but quietly.

"Oh come on, are you 33 or 13?"

“I can fix them,” Win whispered.

“Sometimes it’s not fair you can do that,” Nats grumbled.

"Thank you, my lovely perfect wife," Lydia stuck her tongue out at the boys.

"You're too soft on her, Winnie," Nate folded his arms.

“And you’re getting your knickers in a twist over nothin’,” she snapped back.

"If y'say so," Nate couldn't deny that fella was being more than generous helping them out in the middle of the night.

“Not to worry,” Kay said, turning back to the four of them. “I’m going to th’cleanse your house now.”

"Thank you so much, do you need us to do anything, father?" Lydia asked tying her hair up in a ponytail.

“I’m gunna sprinkle some holy water in each room as I pray. All yeh need t’do is follow me,” he explained, reaching into his robe to grab his vial of the liquid.

"Yeah, of course," she took Win's hand, not for a moment doubting that plan was going to work. It only made sense... Nate on the other hand was quite unimpressed.

Winnie squeezed her wife's hand and followed after Kay. Though she didn't believe in the whole Jesus thing, she hoped that this prayer thing would work.

"How much you wanna bet this is gunna work or not?" Nats whispered to his twin.

"I bet a threesome that it's not gonna work," he whispered back smugly. "There's no fuckin' way one of our variants is a priest... he must be a fake, only doin' it for the free accommodations."

"Deal." Nats shook on it.

"What are you two on about?" Win hissed as they passed through the living room to the kitchen where Sally had left another mess.

"Nothin'," Nate flashed her a charming grin. "Just talkin' about how much we love our wonderful wives. There ya go always thinkin' the worst..."

Kay sprinkled a few drops of holy water as they went, his voice a melodic prayer. Winnie gave the Nathans a doubtful look, but held her tongue, not wanting to disrupt the cleanse.

I think there's something wrong with me, this is turning me on, Lydia thought, making the sign of the cross and shaking those thoughts away.

Kay continued his prayers, making the sign of the cross before leading them onto the next room.

Suddenly as they returned to the bedroom, everything began to vibrate violently, but he merely raised his voice louder, unperturbed as he flung a spray of holy water across the space. "Leave this house, spirit! By the name of God, I command ye!"

"This is exciting," Win breathed, grabbing Lydia's arm.

"Oh you have no idea..." she brought her wife's hand to her chest, where anyone could easily feel her heart racing. "He's not even scared, he's amazing."

Nate rolled his eyes, trying to look as unfazed, even though he was a little bit freaked out. The lights were flickering and the sounds of the objects flying around were deafening. It all got worse until it finally stopped, leaving them in the most peaceful silence.

"--In God's name, amen." Kay finished his prayer and smiled, turning to face the four of them. "Looks like she's left."

"Oh thank God," Win exclaimed, while Nats still eyed the room reluctantly, just waiting for Sally to return.

"So that's it? That actually worked?" Nate scoffed, only thinking of the threesome he'd have to sit out.

"You're a lifesaver! This is incredible! I have no idea how to thank you," Lydia laughed, unable to contain her excitement. "D-do we pay you? Can I bring you lunch tomorrow?"

"Oh," Kay exclaimed, somewhat taken aback. "No payment is necessary, but..." he hesitated, turning his grin on her, "lunch would be nice, after wakin' me up in th'middle of the night," he chuckled.

"What if she comes back?" Nats cried, scowling at the way Lyddie was gazing at the priest.

"I suppose, let me know and I'll try something a little more advanced," he answered, frowning slightly. "But in th'meantime, maybe no more tryin' to contact the dearly departed Queen via ouija board."

"I promise we will never touch another board again, we'll let the Queen rest," Lydia nodded, already planning what she was going to cook the next day. "I'll make sure to update you tomorrow on the whole ghost situation."

"Yeah well, thanks," Nate sighed, his face unbiddenly showing exactly how jealous he was. "Let's hope she doesn't come back," the last thing he wanted was to invite him over to get rid of another poltergeist.

Kay nodded. "It was my pleasure, good night to you," he said, following them back to the front door and stepping out into the dark street. As soon as he was gone, Nats shut the door heavily and let out a loud sigh.

"Winnieeeeeee!" Lydia squealed, jumping around, it had been a few years since a new variant had appeared. "We're ghost free! Well not really, but the bad ones are gone I hope."

"Thankfully," Nats sighed, catching her around the middle.

"Guess I'll clean the mess then," Nate muttered, waving his hand to fix what was broken and get it back in place even though he swore he wouldn't do it.

Win laughed at her wife's excitement before turning to Nate and winding her arms around his neck, stretching to do so. "Thank you, babe," she whispered.

"Yeah yeah..." he tried to fight a smile. "What don't I do for you two?" He held her in turn, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She smiled, tilting her chin to look up at him. "Think we can resume where we were when I was in your lap with naught but a towel?" she purred, twining one of his curls around her finger.

"Now that's a plan," he lifted her in his arms, disappearing with her clothes even before reaching the bedroom. "So much better."

She giggled, letting out a yelp as he tumbled to the bed with her. "So glad to have our home back t'normal," she murmured, running her fingers through Nathan's curls.

"Me too, from now on we only summon the spirits we know," Nate mumbled against her lips. "I kinda bet a threesome with Nats and lost, so I'll keep you tonight. All mine."

"Guess y'shoulda had more faith then," Win teased, opening her mouth to him, grinning into the kiss. "But mmm, I like th'sound of bein' all yours tonight."

"Stop with that face, I'm not even looking and I know which face you have," Lydia turned in Nats' embrace and touched the tip of his nose with her own. "See? I knew it."

"And what face is that?" He asked with a laugh, pressing his lips to the tip of her nose.

"It's cute, you always scrunch your nose and your lips do this thing when you eat something you don't like or when you're jealous," she teased, scratching his scalp gently.

"Yeah, yeah, obviously I'm jealous," he grumbled, pushing his lip out further.

"As cute as it is when you're jealous of us, you know there's nothing to worry about, have we ever fucked another Nathan? We met several... and this is probably the only one who doesn't want anything to do with us," Lydia assured, stealing a kiss.

"I know," Nats murmured, pulling her closer by the waist and deepening the kiss.

"Good, you're the only one for me," she whispered. "Well, not really, but you get the picture."

Tag List: @firstpersonnarrator @elliethesuperfruitlover

#misfits fanfic #misfits nathan #misfits #fanfic #timeline anomaly verse #nathan young #nathan x oc #nathan x lydia #nathan x win #otp: green apple lollipop #fic collab #sheehalloween 2022

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