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konigbabe · 1 year

Text

like real people do

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x fem!teacher!reader | single dad AU

Word count: 5.8k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; fluff; eventual smut; p-in-v; slice of life; gendered female reader; gendered female anatomy; original kid Kennedy character

Summary: He's the sun, and you're the earth, drawn into his orbit; yet, he's your student's father. Handsome. Confident. Alluring. But off limits–at least he should be.

a/n: Inspired by @yeyinde’s ask. Also, canon ID!Leon is around 29 but Leon in this '"universe" is aged up to be in his 30s (age won't be specified but I imagine him to be in his mid-to-late 30s).

divider by @benkeibear [source]

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The voice in your head keeps telling you to be professional, the thought of spending an evening with this man hard to resist; his confident, easy-going demeanor, the way he doesn’t give up easily– “So? It’s just dinner.”

The innocence of children always manages to brighten up even the darkest of days, their smiles and eagerness to learn contagious; filling your heart with positivity. It's a feeling that's hard to come by as an adult; life's challenges tend to chip away at your soul and slowly rob you of that childhood magic.

As the clock strikes five and your shift comes to an end, the school falls into an eerie silence. A lingering sense of relief washes over you when leaving the building; you've done your part in shaping young minds.

Walking out the front door, the warmth of the sun caresses your skin, its rays sliding around your bare arms like silk.

Twisting the key in the lock, your eyes catch a glimpse of slight movement from the corner of your vision. Turning your head, you see a little girl perched on the concrete steps below, her delicate features illuminated by the warm glow of the sun.

Her hair, a cascade of light brown waves, frames her chubby cheeks and the crown of her head is adorned with blonde highlights that shimmer like golden threads.

She turns to you when you address her, slowly stepping down to her level.

"What are you still doing here," you sit down, her small backpack creating a wall between your bodies.

As you sit side by side with the little girl, basking in the comforting embrace of the sunlight, she kicks her legs up; eyes up front, both of you watch the cars pass by on the street.

The Washington Spring air’s filled with the sweet scent of blooming cherry blossoms, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles through the trees. The distant sounds of children playing in a nearby park mingle with the honking of cars and the chirping of birds, creating a symphony of noise that signifies the arrival of spring in the bustling city.

"Waiting for daddy," she says with a hint of excitement in her voice.

The little girl looks up at you, her eyes full of wonder and innocence. You can't help but wonder about the mysterious Mr Kennedy and his absence; an enigma surrounding his name.

Like a forgotten toy left on the shelf, the girl's father remains absent from any involvement in her education. Despite several months passing since her admission to your class, there has been no sign of him. No parent-teacher meetings, no Father's Day celebration, nothing.

An enigma.

"Speaking of," your voice trails off for a moment, "How’s your daddy doing?" you question her. You shouldn’t; it goes beyond your job description to put a kid in situations like these. But still–

Her eyes, a vivid shade of cerulean, sparkle like sunlit water as she gazes at you; smile wide upon the mention of her father, the young kid toys with the straps on her bag.

"He’s busy."

A pang of understanding pinches your heart.

–his presence (or rather the absurd lack of it) keeps gnawing at your brain.

"He fights monsters," the girl adds after a moment of silence; her tone more serious. It's as if she's describing a mythical hero, fighting off beasts in some far-off land.

"He seems to be busy quite a lot," you smile to ease the topic; well aware that the girl, as bright as she is, surely catches on as you keep asking the same question every week, "is your mom coming to the parent–teacher meeting?"

The girl shakes her head before she speaks, "I don’t know my mom."

Oh.

You know you shouldn’t push more; well aware of the unprofessionalism you’re displaying.

"The woman who picks you up–"

"–aunt Claire," the kid corrects you, "I’m sorry for interrupting, miss teacher."

You smile, trying to put her at ease. It's clear that she's been brought up with good manners.

Lost in how to answer her, you almost don't hear the sound of a car approaching. The girl jumps up, her face alight with excitement. A low rumble reverberates through the air as a sleek black SUV glides up to the curb, its shiny exterior reflecting the warm rays of the sun.

The tinted windows obscure the view inside the car, adding an air of mystery to the vehicle. As the car comes to a stop, the quiet hum of the engine fades to a gentle purr, and the driver's door swings open.

The girl grabs her backpack at the same time a man steps out of the car; you’re able to only see the light brown hair decorating his head.

"Daddy," the girl yelps in excitement. You stand up, dusting the invisible dust from your jeans.

He stands tall, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of the crisp white shirt, tucked tightly into the blue dress pants. A single button undone on his collar, revealing the curve of his clavicles. The sun glints off his aviator sunglasses, hiding his eyes from view. He approaches the little girl with a warm smile as she runs into her father, you presume; standing still, watching the situation unfold before your eyes.

Lowering himself to her level, he extends his arms, inviting her in. She eagerly accepts, wrapping her little arms around his neck in a welcoming embrace.

"Hey there, pup," you manage to hear his voice; low and soft. Gentle. "Sorry I’m late; got held up by paperwork. Y’know the drill."

The kid chuckles before pulling away, a sound so pure and innocent it brings a smile to your face.

Standing back up, his face turns towards you. You're struck by his imposing presence, the way he commands attention without even trying. His chiseled jawline is dusted with a light stubble, giving him an air of ruggedness. He moves with confidence towards you, one hand enclosed with his daughter’s.

The girl tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, introducing you before he even reaches your standing point–to which he smiles gently.

"Well, nice to meet you," his hand extended in greeting, "I’m Leon Kennedy. Her dad," he nods towards the girl.

"Mr Kennedy," you murmur, taking his hand in yours; noting the callouses on his palm.

As your eyes travel up his arm, they catch sight of a fresh bandage peeking out from under his slightly rolled up sleeve. But it's not until you look up at his face that you see the true extent of his weariness. Small scratches mark his jaw, subtle hues of purple and yellow decorate his cheekbone like a watercolor painting.

It’s clear that he's been through a rough patch. Makes you wander back to the girl’s words–

("He fights monsters.")

–and maybe he does. In some twisted sense.

"I actually wanted to speak with you," you release his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin lingering on your fingertips., "are you free next Tuesday? Around one PM?"

"Am I in trouble," he chuckles; the stretch of his lips exposing a slight scar on his lower lip.

The girl tilts her head, eyes studying you intently. You can't help but notice the slight beauty marks across her neck, the softness of her features, the way she looks up at her father with curiosity.

"Not really; I just need to discuss some matters with you."

"Okay," he responds, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, yet he remains stoic. Posed. "Sure."

"I’ll see you then," you nod and take your leave, but not before stealing a few glances at his back as he turns away from you. It’s impossible not to notice how his broad shoulders strain against the fabric, or how his hair cascades over his forehead; tousled yet somehow perfectly in place.

The weekend flies by, the days blurring together until suddenly it's Tuesday.

Despite his daughter's reassurances from yesterday that he'll be here, the uncertainty of whether he'll actually show up still grips you tightly.

A knock on the open door disturbs your grading.

"Mr Kennedy," you remark upon his arrival. The pen falls onto the desk with a clunk; back straighten, you invite him to sit on the chair prepared for him beforehand.

He’s dressed more casual–the black, expensive looking leather jacket squeaks against the wooden chair as he sits down after a simple "Hello". The faint but distinct aroma of sharp, citrusy notes wafts from his collar; the refreshing and invigorating aroma that catches your attention before your eyes trail to the bandage on his wrist.

Clearly seeing the way your eyes subconsciously linger on the piece of medical tape, Leon puts his other hand over it, shielding your view. Silently focusing your attention back on his eyes; the same blue hues as his daughter’s.

Sitting before you, legs spread apart, the undeniable similarities between him and his daughter are glaringly apparent. The way he holds himself commands respect, his posture erect and confident.

"Mr Kennedy, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you in person."

Fingers interlocking as you lean on your elbows, his gaze following your every movement like a predator stalking its prey; almost as if he’s sizing you up. His eyes watchful.

"Okay," he responds casually, a hint of question behind the simple word.

You clear your throat before continuing. "Your daughter is a remarkable child," a small smile accompanying your words. "She's well-behaved, intelligent, and often surpasses her peers."

Leon nods, lips pressed together.

"Got that from her mother, probably," he remarks. Almost bites back. Jaw tightening.

Leaning back, your fingers drum a quick rhythm against your desk.

"But we’re not here to evaluate your daughter; but you, actually, Mr Kennedy."

Leon’s brows arch up, highlighting the soft surprise that flashes across his face. The subtle shift in his expression does not go unnoticed by you.

"Didn’t know I was being evaluated," his voice trails off.

You nod in acknowledgement, sensing the man's confusion.

"You’re aware of our school assemblies, right?"

His face remains stoic, so you continue.

"Father's Day, parent-teacher meetings, career days, sports day," you list a few, hoping to spark the idea in the man’s mind.

"So," he leans back against the chair, arms folded on his chest.

With an exhale, upon your failed attempt to make him take the hint, you resolve to explaining the school rules to him.

"Our school mandates that the child’s parent or legal guardian be present at at least three of those assemblies per school year. You haven’t been present on any of them, not even last year."

He lifts his chin slightly and raises his eyebrows, eyes fixed on you with a look that suggests he's waiting for more information or an explanation.

"There’s actually a policy within out school that allows teachers to prohibit the child from participating in certain activities or events if a parent is not present–"

"–you’re kidding," Leon interjects, his tone laced with disbelief.

Raising your hand, you stop him from continuing, "and your daughter is a great student, so I don't expect that to happen to her. But with your continuous absence, she's at risk of being excluded from certain activities."

"My job keeps me busy. And I don’t really have a say in it," Leon retorts.

Arms still folded across his chest, his brows furrow in frustration. Defence sets inside his flesh; jaw slightly twitching, his eyes bore into yours.

"Maybe her mother could–"

"–not an option," he stops you before you manage to finish the sentence.

You nod in understanding. Leaving forward, you hope to appeal to Leon’s sense of responsibility a little more.

"In that case; we’re having a sports day this Friday. If you could just show up to support your daughter, I could mark it as you being present."

Leon chuckles, his voice smooth. Looking out the nearby window, he stares into the field right next to the school for a moment, deep in thought. The sunlight filtering through the window casts a warm glow on his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Silence passes before he speaks up, "Wouldn't a dinner suffice instead?"

You clear your throat and try to compose yourself, feeling your heartbeat pick up at the unexpected request. "That's not very appropriate, Mr Kennedy, " you say softly, attempting to hide the fluttering in your chest. "Let's see each other at the soccer match."

"Sure. I’ll see what I can do; is that all?" he asks, head turned to the side. You gaze upon the now exposed wound on his jawline, vaguely resembling a cat’s claw scratch. The bruise colors on his cheek faded over the past few days.

"Yes," you assure him.

"Y’know, this whole thing could’ve been an email."

You smile wryly, "Would you react to that email?"

Looking back at you, there’s a flicker of mischievous dancing in his eyes. Leon's gaze holds yours for a moment longer, and you find yourself drawn to the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes, evidence of his amusement.

"You got me there."

The sun blankets the field in gold, casting elongated shadows of the children as they scamper around in pursuit of the ball. It’s still quite early. The air’s crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and; sound of excited cheers and shouts echo throughout the surrounding area.

It’s comforting. Soothing in a way.

With a group of teachers, you watch the little girl darting across the field, her movements resembling that of a graceful gazelle as she expertly maneuvers the ball. She weaves in and out of the other players, a look of determination etched on her youthful face.

A chorus of her name echoes across the field, drifting like a wispy trail of smoke. The other kids cheer her on as she makes her way towards the goal, her tiny frame seemingly defying the laws of physics with her quick and nimble movements.

A round of applause erupts when the ball meets the back of the net. You watch as the little girl’s teammates rush to congratulate her.

"And who is that," a woman’s voice tears your gaze away from the cheerful moment, hands stopping mid-clasp.

Curious, you look at her. The other teachers already gazing to your right. To the parking lot.

Leaning against the sleek car, its design demanding attention; even from further away, he exudes an air of quiet confidence that's impossible to ignore. Eyes covered by another set of sunglasses, the same leather jacket strains against his folded arms.

Mr Kennedy.

Leon Kennedy.

Something about him always seems to draw attention; to captivate anyone who catches a glimpse of him.

It’s odd. Uncanny–

You should know better than to think in such a way about your student’s father.

–and you wonder if it’s just you who feels that way.

As the group of teachers chatter, a voice pipes up, "Is he someone's father?"

"He has to be," the conversation carries on, "or he wouldn’t be here–"

"–or he’s a creep."

Turning to face the person who said it, you scoff at the teacher before speaking up.

"He’s her dad," You nod in the direction of the girl with a beaming smile on your face, as she energetically waves at Leon. His response, though polite, is less enthusiastic, evident by the restrained movement of his hand.

Escaping the gossip, you follow the white boundary lines of the field towards your target, the soft grass crunching beneath your feet. Leon's eyes are fixed on the field, his sharp features softened by the spring glow.

But he's quick to notice your approach, turning his head ever so slightly to the left. It makes you feel naked as he shamelessly watches you coming closer.

"Mr Kennedy," you greet him.

As you approach, the warm spring breeze ruffles your hair, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mixing with his heady aroma. Posture relaxed, his broad shoulders almost blend with the darkness of the car behind him.

"Just call me Leon."

Eyes back on the field, a tinge of carelessness in his voice, a small tug on his lips. Hesitating momentarily, you put your hands in your pockets.

"I’d rather stick to being professional."

It makes him chuckle; voice rumbling with amusement–

"You’re making me feel old," he teases.

–making your chest tighten. His words brush against your ears like the gentle rustling of leaves on a cool autumn breeze.

The lightness in his tone, the hint of playfulness, stirs something deep within you.

It’s your turn to return the light laugh. The sound mingling with the chirping of birds in the distance.

"It’s good that you’re here. Your daughter seems to appreciate it as well."

Leon's eyes flicker to his daughter, still surrounded by her teammates; a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," he says, the warmth in his voice evident, "she’s been talking about this game for a week."

"She’s really talented in sports."

A cool breeze brushes against your skin as he removes his sunglasses. Eyes reminiscent of the clear waters of a mountain lake–the color seems to deepen and intensify as he looks at you, drawing you in.

"That she got from me," the corners of his mouth curve up into a charming smile. His voice deep and smooth, like a glass of well-aged whiskey. You can sense his confidence, the way he carries himself with ease, and it's hard not to be drawn in.

It's alluring. The way he exudes a sense of self-assurance.

Smiling lightly, hand resting on the cool hood of his car, you both watch the children race each other. Cheers fill the soccer fields.

Even in momentarily silence, it’s comfortable–

"Well, she certainly inherited some good genes, Mr Kennedy."

–there’s no awkward cluster around the two of you. It’s natural.

It draws Leon’s attention back to you. Arms folded, his fingers sneak around his bicep, gripping gently as he shamelessly looks at you. His face a canvas of chiseled features and sharp lines. reminiscent of a Greek statue carved out of marble. A faint scent of musk and cologne lingers around him, blending with the sweet aroma of blooming flowers in the air.

"Just so you know, miss teacher," his voice soft melody that lingers in your mind, "the dinner invitation still stands."

It’s tempting.

The words hang in the air, tantalizingly close.

A whistle cuts through the sounds of the soccer field, interrupting the moment. Leon’s attention briefly flickers towards his daughter, checking as the little girl sprints towards the two of you, before returning to your face.

"And I should remind you, Mr Kennedy, that it’s not very appropriate to ask your daughter’s teacher out."

The voice in your head keeps telling you to be professional, the thought of spending an evening with this man is hard to resist though. His confident, easy-going demeanor, the way he doesn’t give up easily–

"So? It’s just dinner," his tone is almost conspiratorial, as if he's sharing a secret with you.

–it makes you feel alive.

(Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not strictly forbidden.

Only frown upon. Harshly.)

It's like he's the sun, and you're the earth, drawn into his orbit.

"Daddy," his daughter doesn’t hesitate, jumping straight into her father’s arm; yet Leon isn’t phased at all, hoisting her into his arms, "Did you see my goal?"

"I did, pup," arm sneaking underneath her knees, you notice the bandage gone, "you killed it."

"Miss teacher," the kid addresses you, hand sneaking into her dad’s hair to hold him tightly while looking up at you with bright, curious eyes, "Did you see me? Did you see my goal?"

"Of course," you answer with a warm smile, "you did great. Seems like you got good genes for it."

The little girl beams with pride, hugging her father even tighter. Leon chuckles, the sound low and rich, and nods his head in agreement.

"I’ll see you on Monday then; pleasure seeing you, Mr Kennedy," as you turn to leave, you can't help but feel a twinge of regret.

The low hum of chatter fills the air, punctuated by occasional laughter and the clink of glasses. The dim lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden booths and bar, giving the place a cozy feel. The smell of fried food and beer lingers in the air, adding to the ambiance of the traditional American pub.

From a corner, a live band plays classic rock tunes, and the patrons nod along to the rhythm, singing softly under their breaths. It's a perfect spot to unwind after a long workday, catch up with friends. Or even make new connections.

Your little freedom.

Away from responsibilities. From the stress of daily life.

This is your escape, your sanctuary, where you can let loose and just be yourself.

Coming to the bartender, you order another round for the group you’re with, only to be taken back by a familiar voice saying your name.

Turning to look at the man by your right, the white stripes on his jacket contrast against the dim, warm ambiance of the room. Fingers tapping on the rim of the glass of whiskey, he takes a sip, his gaze fixed on you; the amber liquid catching the light, casting a glow across his features.

"Mr Kennedy," you exhale, almost in disbelief by the sudden situation.

Mind whirling with surprise and curiosity; the bar is chill against your exposed arm as you lean onto it, turning to look at the man by your side.

"Wouldn’t expect a teacher to be in a bar on Friday night," he smirks, the corner of his lips curving up in amusement.

"We’re not as frigid as people have us to be," you replied, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips.

Voice like a smoldering flame, waiting to be ignited, he tilts the glass towards you, "Oh, really."

The allure of his presence tangible.

A gravitational pull.

"Well, Mr Kennedy," the words roll off your tongue smoothly, "I suppose we all have our ways of letting loose after a hard week."

He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty; making your pulse quicken, heartbeat pick up. "I couldn't agree more," he says, taking another sip of his drink.

You study him for a moment; taking in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, how his hair fal across his forehead in a disheveled yet stylish way. There’s something undeniably attractive about him, something that draws you in against all odds–

–like a moth to a flame.

Life has a funny way of working out.

You should stop.

But ‘should’ doesn’t exist in the moment of impulse. In the realm of desire. Pure, unblistered passion. The temptation to follow desire is too strong–

The world falls away.

–and all thought of 'should' dissipates.

Leon's hands slide around your thighs, gripping the flesh firmly as his body pushes against yours. Pinned to the wall; his lips trail the pulse of your neck. The tip of his tongue leaving wet patches on the heated skin.

The sudden intrusion of reality makes you gasp,"What about—".

It’s Leon’s hand on your breast; squeezing, teasing the clothed flesh through the thin material, thumbing at the erect nipple, that earns him a moan. His daughter’s name spilling over into a sound so soft. Inviting.

Like a hummingbird.

A content hum echoes in his chest; pressed tightly against yours. Feeling the muscles contract beneath you, respond to your movement; to the way your hips press against the growing bulge in his pants.

"—she’s stayin’ at my friend’s," he mumbles against the curve of your collarbones, teeth grazing the firm area.

With a strong grip, your fingers entangle in his hair. The texture soft and silky, like running your hands through fine threads of spun gold.

"Isn’t she young for sleepovers?"

It makes him look at you. Eyes glazed over; hungry. Primal–

He pulls you into an embrace, arm wrapping around your back, his palm cupping your ass. The heat of his body seeps through your clothing, searing your skin with its intensity, his breath ghosting over your lips as he whispers, "I really don’t wanna talk about my kid right now."

It’s a command rather than anything else.

Followed by your clothes.

He has you bare before you make up your mind.

–causing your skin to crawl.

With every touch, every whisper, every breath, he leaves you feeling more exposed, more vulnerable.

Limbs tangled together, lips pressed against each other; there’s no beginning and no end. When one begins, the other follows, like an unbroken circle of passion and desire.

Utter consumption by the fire inside you.

Leon’s hands feel scorching. Each stroke branding your skin.

He splits your apart, fills you to the brim. The head of his cock kisses the innermost parts of you as you stay seated on top of him. Nails scratching the firm muscle of his breastplate; he grips your sides. Digs his fingers into the soft, plump flesh there.

Teeth nip at your chin. Gently nibbles accompanied by your hips circling on top of him.

Cascade of groans, grunts and moans echo throughout Leon’s bedroom; each sound building on the other to create a crescendo of pleasure. The mattress beneath you creaks and strains under your knees.

Lost in the feeling.

His words a salacious melody; sung in a sultry whisper followed by his teeth, nibling at your earlobe; securing your grip on his shoulders feeling the strength of his muscles as he guides your moves.

Up and down. Up and down.

Circle your hips when your pelvis meets his. When your ass touches his thighs; when his fingers dig into the round flesh.

The rhythm builds, the tension mounting with every breath. The ache of desire deep inside, a longing that can only be sated by him. With each movement, you feel closer to the edge, your body aching for release.

Leon whispers encouragement, his voice like a caress against your skin. Head buried in the crook of your neck, your arms tighten around his shoulder. Face buried in the top of his head, the scent of him fills your senses; a heady, intoxicating aroma that envelops you in its warmth.

You breathe him in, savoring the subtle notes of bergamot and spice, the rich undertones of musk and earthiness.

Leon’s name leaves your lips in a soft, breathless moan, a prayer to the god of pleasure.

His lips brush against your collarbone, lingering there for a moment before trailing lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Skin erupting in goosebumps as his breath tickles your chest, your body bows like a taut bowstring, a supplication to his touch. Offering yourself up to him completely.

Hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and planes of your skin with reverent fingers. As if he knows just where to touch you.

With a strong pull and push, your back meets the hard mattress. His hands move over you like a painter's brush, each stroke bringing out a new hue of pleasure. Hips grinding against yours.

Pressing your body closer to his, chest to chest, he rocks against you. The intensity of his movements leaves you gasping for air, a low moan escaping your lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he continues to rut into you.

Long lost is the slow motion–

Your pelvis meets his in a harsh, demanding thrust.

–now he’s chasing his own high. His own release.

His hand slides to cup your jaw, grip your shoulder, eyes boring into yours; intense and unwavering, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts through the depth of your eyes. Consumed by the heat of you.

Head thrown back, you close your eyes; unable to match the fire in his as he grinds against you; his breaths ragged gasps, the only sound in the room the soft rustling of sheets and the slapping of skin against skin.

Leon knows he won’t last long. Not with the way your mouth remains agape, nails digging into the firm tendons of his biceps; heels digging into the flesh of his ass, pushing him deeper. Demanding him to go harder.

You just look so pretty underneath him.

Fingertips trace the warm flesh of your curves. They move slowly, mapping the supple contours of your body with precision; each touch deliberate, a way of committing the curves of your form to memory.

The sensation is electric, every nerve ending on high alert.

His thumb finds your clit, circling it with teasing precision, a feather-light touch. Pushing your hips into his, he obliges your silent demand – adding a bit more pressure with each pass. The slow, steady rhythm of his touch in bright contrast to the sharp thrusts.

Building the tension inside you, until you feel like you might burst. But he doesn't let up, not yet. He's savoring every moment, enjoying the way you writhe beneath him.

Your breath hitches, body tensing as he works you with an almost clinical precision. The ache between your legs grows, spreading through your entire body. He watches you, gauging your reactions, and adjusts his touch accordingly.

The way he focuses on you, with a singular, unwavering intensity, is both thrilling and terrifying.

As for Leon, every movement, every sound, is calculated. He wants to make this last. He wants to make you lose control.

His muscles tense as he drives into you, each thrust bringing him closer to the edge. His breaths come in short gasps, matching the rhythm of your moans. The heat between you intensifies, a physical force that binds you together.

With one final push, final flick of a thumb, he takes you over the edge, his name on your lips.

Clenching around him, walls fluttering, his thrusts grow slow. Leisurely.

As if he’s tantalizing himself. Savoring the feel before he lets go with a groan; a guttural sound that echoes through the bedroom; body spasming. The two of you entwined in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

There should be some sort of regret.

Standing by the foot of Leon’s bed, still searching for your clothes amid the scattered chaos of the apartment, covered by a random shirt you’ve found on the ground (that’s definitely not the one you’ve come with), you can’t help but be drawn to the sleeping man lying before you.

The sheets barely cover the curve of his lower back, and even in slumber, the muscles of his back remain visible; the outline of his physique remains defined and sharp, even in relaxation. The memory of his back muscles beneath your palms lingers on your skin, as if he were still present with you in that moment.

There’s no regret.

Exiting the bedroom, you walk past the kitchen into the hallway. The emptiness of the space is palpable, with nothing adorning the plain white walls; no family photos or decorations to add personality. Only the essential pieces of furniture remain. The floor creaks beneath your bare feet as you open the door closer to you–

(It’s almost like he doesn’t have anyone.

A sense of desolation creeps in you.)

–and are met with a blinding contrast to the rest of the apartment. Rainbow colored sheets neatly tucked into the small bed, pillows in shape of various animals. Light furniture covered in school supplies; and a photo decorating the nightstand.

You pick it up, immediately recognized the two people. It might be the first time you’re seeing Leon actually smile, wide and bright. Happy; with his daughter tightly wrapped in his arms. Faces pressed together, smiling at the camera.

"I hope you're not trying to steal anything," Leon's voice interrupts your reverie; low and husky, still laced by the morning sleep, "I don't have much, y’know."

As you pivot to face him, you can't resist noticing how his bare feet stand out against his fully-clothed form. Hair tousled and messy, only adding to his rugged appeal.

An irresistible wave of attraction washes over you as you scrutinize his appearance, and his playful tone only adds fuel to the fire.

"Don't worry, I'm not after your prized possessions," you reply with a smirk, feeling emboldened by his proximity.

Leon's eyes twinkle mischievously as he steps closer to you, his warm breath brushing against your cheek. "Well, in that case, what’re you after?"

"I was just looking for a bathroom."

Leon's gaze lingers on you, lips curled up in a half-smile. "The bathroom’s down the hall to the right," he points with a nod of his head.

You nod back, trying to ignore the electric sensation that courses through you at his proximity. "Thanks," you say, stepping past him towards the direction he indicated.

As you walk down the hallway, you can't shake off the feeling of emptiness that you felt earlier. It's clear that Leon lives a minimalist lifestyle, but the lack of personal touches leaves you with a sense of melancholy.

Entering the bathroom, you take a moment to splash water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Leon again.

His voice echoes through the small apartment as you make your way towards his voice, entering the kitchen; you're struck by how immaculate it is. Everything’s in its place, and there isn't a single dish out of place. The countertop is spotless, the sink free of any debris, the stainless-steel appliances gleam in the light.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air with the morning sun streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room.

"I’ll pick her up in an hour," Leon stands in front of the refrigerator, two mugs in one hand, bare feet making a soft thumping sound against the linoleum floor. His hair’s still tousled from sleep, his t-shirt is wrinkled, clinging to his muscles as he holds the phone to his ear.

There’s a certain charm to his disheveled appearance that you find appealing.

Looking at you, he makes no effort to stop the call, instead a playful undertones his voice as he hands you a mug and motions towards the coffee machine, "yeah, just woke up. Had a long night."

Shaking your head at his words; he watches you with a small, amused smile, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

"See you then. Bye, Claire,” he ends the call, turning his full attention to you.

"Y’know, miss teacher," he pours himself a glass of water, "if you just wanted to skip the whole dinner thing, you should’ve just said."

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mayullla · 9 days

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Title: The Wedding is Today

Character(s): Viscount (Unnamed character/original work)

Summary: The wedding is today as you look at yourself in front of the mirror, wearing a white gown. Are you scared or are you broken? You weren't sure. Yet your time was limited till you become whole his.

Warnings/tags: Yandere Viscount x Fallen aristocrat!reader, F!reader, general yandere themes, manipulation (both physical and mental), power imbalance, forced marriage, loss of control, womb tattoo that is not sexual, forced servitude, 2k words

This is part two, click here for part one!

Dressed in the most beautiful white wedding dress, decorated with lace and pearls, you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You had always dreamed of wearing a wedding dress; after all, it was something that you had always been told you would have. And you had always been fascinated by the idea of wearing a dress that was the image of purity and elegance. In the past, you thought you would have it with your ex-fiancé but instead of him you were to wed another man, someone so infatuated by you.

Even with carefully done hair and makeup, it could not hide your empty eyes.

Was this the result? It had been a long time since you last saw your face in the mirror. In that dark room, forced into the whims of that man, you didn't have much. There was no mirror there, just a bed, table, and desk, with most of your clothes and necessities brought by the silent servants.

Hollow eyes covered by a black cloth.

You felt weak, your body shivering as you pulled your eyes away from the mirror. Tears threatened to fall as you tried to hold them in, worried that you might ruin your makeup and irritate him, who only wanted perfection.

You didn't want this… you didn't want this at all.

You were marrying a monster.

Even if you wanted to escape, there was no way you could. He had made sure to snuff out all your ideas or thoughts of running away. That man had placed his hands all over you just to ensure that you could think of nothing but him, making sure you would never be able to run away even after you were finally let out from your prison. You still felt like a trapped bird.

Invisible chains locked your wrists, legs, neck, and hands, forcing you to dance to his orders. You could not stand up; it was as if something was holding your stomach down, a weight keeping you still on the chair as you waited for the time drawing near, challenging you to even think of trying. A white choker necklace tightened around your neck, making you conscious of every breath. Your back was straightened with a corset designed to keep your posture rigid, preventing you from even bending slightly.

He said that he had to make sure, after all, worried that you might hunch and cry while walking down the aisle, your face would be hidden with the white veil, but he just had to make sure of your shoulders and your back.

“Your tears are pretty. But if you don't give the crowd a happy cry then we shall keep most of that in private. Oh love, you are my precious and it is the same with your tears also. They should only be seen by me.”

Yet nothing could be as shameful as the womb sigil placed on your stomach the glowing ever so bright under the dark room when you were told to go to sleep late at night. A warmth it created that you didn't want. You would have preferred to freeze to death that feel this.

The viscount rambled about how much he adored you, his perfect doll, during the carriage ride, and how much you have improved in the past days that you stayed here. He commented on your suffering and how hard you were working just to please him. You flinched the moment he said that he could not wait to make it official that you were his. “In just a few hours my dear and all the world would know that you are mine forever.”

You didn't want to look at him. You didn't want to look at anyone.

“My lovely bride," his comments made you want to vomit as tears fell down to your skirt in the carriage. His hands touched your cheeks as he gently lifted your face. Your eyes met his, and not even a lick of pity or guilt was in them, nothing but obsession, lust, and thrill. "Aww… Let your tears out now, dear, so that later when they put on your makeup, you won't ruin it," he whispered as he moved his thumb to clean your tears from your cheeks.

“I am the only one here with you right now. It is okay to cry.”

“My little dear is just so pretty. Sometimes I don't know if I could hold back later when you finally become fully mine." Lowering his head, you flinched again when he placed his chin near your neck, his hands wrapped around your waist. You could feel his cold skin against yours, hot from your emotions.

“I worry that I might just break you one day..."

None of the guests touched you when you arrived at the wedding hall only able to greet you with a bit of a distance; maids that worked under him had made sure of that. Small adjustments in the dress or helping you reach one place or another were all done by them. They worked efficiently, but you knew that their main job was to be watchdogs.

You could never stare into their eyes for too long, though. To someone who knew or who was sharp, it was obvious that the shine of life in them, meant to fool outsiders, still looked somehow fake.

You stared at the floor of the dressing room, zoned out. The music from the orchestra outside was loud yet muffled. You could hear people talking, enough to realize that the Viscount made sure that everybody attended just to see him put a lock on your finger.

In just a few minutes, you will belong to him, and you can do nothing to stop it.

It was difficult to breathe.

You didn't want to move at all when your feet started moving, tried to stop yourself when you felt a certain buzz in your core under your stomach again, warning you not to try anything.

You remember after all that time when you so desperately wanted to run away and were so close to doing so. Back then when the Viscount left the room without locking the door, you thought you could run away at that moment and that this was your chance. Even if your feet hurt from dancing the same steps for hours just moments ago, you forced yourself to move, so desperate to leave.

There was no one in the halls as you ran, careful not to cause any sound that would let servants or him notice your presence. And you were close… very close to the door to the outside.

Only to feel a shock in your core running through your whole body. It was like fire burning your skin inside out, licking your skin, leaving trails of fire that grew hotter and hotter. You fell down in the hallway, unable to move as waves of pain threatened to melt your body. You couldn't scream at all, barely a gasp.

The sigil on your stomach had reacted violently to your escape.

And the pain didn't stop, no matter how many tears fell from your eyes. No matter how much you wanted to escape from the pain, it kept you wide awake. The pain in your stomach was gruesome, while your veins felt like it was lit on fire. At one point, it did dull down, as if someone deemed that your punishment had been properly given… but you could not move, and he made sure of that. You covered your face and sobbed still feeling like every body part was burnt to a crisp.

Later, when the Viscount came back from a meeting and saw you on the floor he tutted at you… no anger in his eyes when he picked you up in a bridal carry. “My dear honey, you shouldn’t have done that. What if you had gotten hurt while running away?” He asked you with a smile, his grip on your leg painfully tight.

You received another punishment from the Viscount himself.

You watched him place a chain on your ankle, securing it to the bed. You flinched at his touch, whining when the cold metal touched your skin.

“I made sure to go lightly on you. But don't think it will be the same next time, dear,” he told you as he carried you to your bed, giving you pecks on your forehead while combing your hair as if to comfort you. “It will be even worse than this..”

Let me remind you that as long as you know that you belong to me, I will spoil you more than kings and emperors could ever do for their queens. But if you could not understand that, then we could only just fix it… and you already know what I mean by saying that.”

“Right, Love?”

“It will be your turn soon. Please get ready,” a servant spoke up. In public, they removed all their masks around their eyes. You had expected their eyes for a moment to be dead just as they were before, yet instead, you saw a liveliness that didn't belong to the person. “Please wait a moment, and we will finish up a few remaining touches,” the servant spoke in a cheerful voice, as other servants walked around with similar smiles.

You disliked how fake it was, but more than anything, you were scared that this would be what you would finally become if you even made the Viscount mad enough, pushing the thought that maybe you already were deep in your mind.

A long veil attached to your hair, the Viscount had a favor towards longer hair and told you to grow it if it was short. The dress was cleaned from any fold marks, wrinkles and small imperfections.

A white bouquet held by another maid given to you.

Your hands took the white bouquet without listening to your fear and hesitation. Again, you wondered if you were broken, already a marionette that he sometimes called you.

Walking out of the bride's room, you stood in front of huge doors in the long hallway, your own eyes empty of any delight but hidden by the innocent white veil, sheer enough to see your face just a little. Your neck moved by itself when it heard the announcement of the bride, your chin being forced up as the doors opened. You could hear the clapping first, and as you started to walk down the aisle alone, you could see some nobles who once watched you be humiliated by your past fiancé and his girl.

You didn't care about them anymore.

Your eyes moved to see in front of you, and you saw your parents, both smiling as you walked down the aisle, almost as if proud parents when in reality you knew it was a picture the Viscount wanted of something perfect.

Looking at the man again, watching you walk towards him with a satisfied smile on his lips, you could see the madness and obsession swirling in those eyes, knowing that you have been placed into a corner where all he must do is choke you even more.

Standing in front of him, you looked at him, the same sly smile on his lips as the day you first arrived at his mansion and fell into his trap. The marriage officiant continued to speak, yet most of his words you could barely hear as you were too deep in your thoughts. This moment, these last few seconds would be the last that belonged to you until it becomes official that you would be forever trapped and controlled by the man's obsession and delusions for you.

You heard the Viscount speak for a moment, bringing you out of your thoughts immediately. You had become too sensitive to his voice. You noticed the marriage officiant turn to you after hearing the answer of the Viscount and asking you the question, “Would you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Looking at the Viscount who stared at you lovingly yet at the same time knowingly, waiting to hear you say the words that will bind you to him forever. This breath would be the last that you breathe for yourself and not for him. He was a serpent, he had already bitten into your skin, letting poison seep into your veins. Any hope now would be too late.

You closed your eyes, letting tears fall down your face.

“Yes… I do.”

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tarotwithavi · 6 months

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What makes you hauntingly beautiful?

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Masterlist

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Pile 1

Your stunning, haunting beauty comes from knowing the value of slowing down, not just lazing around, but in taking real moments to think deep—kind of like finding peace in just thinking. You're a boss at stepping back, seeing that downtime and recovery are as important as the daily grind. That insight of yours? It's like a mysterious, magnetic power. The way you make choices isn't just about choices; it's about having a clear vision and following your gut. It's like you've got this inner compass steering you, giving off this cool vibe of purpose and confidence. You're beautiful in how you appreciate fresh starts, personal growth, and handling real-life stuff. There's a down-to-earth vibe about you that's super attractive, as if you totally get how embracing new opportunities and making them something big is where it's at. You've got this cool vibe of accomplishment and success. It's like you've been around the block and learned a ton, and it shows in the way you carry yourself. You've got this wisdom and worldly thing going on in how you present yourself. Fate seems to be your buddy on this life trip, and you carry it off so gracefully. That grace you've got in dealing with life's ups and downs adds this layer of depth to your beauty. You kinda know that life changes all the time, and it gives this mysterious charm to how you roll. Your strength? Man, it's a mix of soft and tough. It's not just physical but also emotional and mental. It's built on understanding tough times, almost a beautiful sadness that's super interesting. The real deal beauty is in how you face conflicts and challenges. There's this sense of organized chaos, where you handle friction and competition in a way that's more like a dance, showing off your adaptability and staying cool under pressure. And there's something crazy fascinating in how you deal with giving up and letting go. It's not about losing out but gaining a fresh perspective. There's this almost out-of-this-world beauty in your ability to move on and see things from a completely different angle, finding beauty in the stuff that's surprising and uncharted. Your haunting beauty is like a mixtape of these cool details—being calm, driven, down-to-earth, wise, accepting, strong, adaptable, and letting things go. It creates this totally mysterious allure that's both captivating and spellbinding.

Pile 2

Your eerie beauty is like this intricate dance between real powerful endings and those kick-ass beginnings. You give off this vibe that's kind of magnetic but also a bit unsettling. Your energy is intense, like a fire burning inside an adventurer , your moves, your determined eyes, it's all in there. You're not someone easily figured out, your depths are like a maze. There's something cool about your fearlessness, the way you tackle your fears straight on. It's this bold part of you that makes you such a mystery. You've grappled with your own inner monsters, and that struggle has really shaped you, leaving this mark of toughness that's both fascinating and puzzling. The times you've spent alone have totally changed you. They've chiseled your soul, creating this calm strength that's weirdly attractive. It's like you've found something special in the dark corners, finding comfort where most people wouldn't even dare to look. But even in your alone times, you've got this pull with others. Your interactions have this magnetic sweetness, kind of like the mix of life's bitter moments. The way you dive into happy stuff with a hint of sadness? That's what sets you apart. Your talent for handling both the shiny and the gloomy sides in your relationships gives this depth that's so attractive and kind of haunting. The way you guard yourself and the people around you, It's pretty impressive. It's like you're standing there at the gates, protecting not just yourself but everyone near you. Your determination to fight for what you stand for, your stubborn nature, is both a bit scary and strangely attractive. It's not just the physical space but also the mental and emotional lines you've drawn. Your ability to set these limits and safeguard your turf is both impressive and a bit haunting. It reflects your smarts and that mysterious vibe you've got going on. There's this mix in you of strength, toughness, being on your own, protection, sweetness, and a depth that's captivating and leaves a cool, haunting impression on everyone you meet.

Pile 3

(Some of you may be attracted to pile 1 , make sure to check that out!)

You've got this amazing vibe that's like this mystical spell . There's this magical aura about you. The way you handle your life, keeping your dreams close while staying super down-to-earth, it's like this mesmerizing dance that pulls folks towards you. Your inner strength, usually hidden behind a gentle sweetness, sets you apart; it's like you're a total pro at bouncing back and owning your power. There might've been times when you felt guarded or clung tightly to things, maybe because of past letdowns. But there's this soft glow that comes from inside, like the sun, bringing warmth and hope that pushes past any anger or worries. Your journey has been patient and full of thinking, a bit like taking care of a garden waiting for all your hard work to pay off. That patience and the skill to plan, dream, and build the world you want is where your haunting beauty shines. Your emotional depth and how you handle feelings without fear are like having a pure and innocent heart , it shows off this sensitive side of yours. It's like a shining innocence that hasn't been touched by negativity. There's a natural richness to your life, full of connections and joy that represents this abundance, this real sense of satisfaction and happiness that just beams out of you. Your journey isn't just about you; it's about finishing phases, ending chapters, and growing, this ongoing change and evolution. You've got this big-picture beauty about you that's linked to the grander scheme of things. It's like you've been through some tough stuff, each leaving a mark, but you stand tall with this unbreakable spirit, showing off your strength and echoes your toughness. The marks from those past struggles just add to your depth. Your haunting beauty is in your ability to renew, mend, and keep growing, like this unstoppable force of nature that remains enchanting despite the scars from the storms you've been through. You're this cool mix of strength, grace, and a mysterious charm that sticks in people's minds long after they've met.

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utterlyotterlyx · 5 days

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The Fox and The Fawn

High Lord Eris x Rhys!Sister!Reader x Azriel

Part Four

Summary - The consequences of your defection to the Autumn Court become clear as you realise how deeply rooted the betrayal of your family lies within you.

Warnings - angst, self-doubt, trauma, depression, fluff

Part One Part Two Part Three

Nesta's toes curled uncomfortably.

Rhys was pacing before her and Lucien who was sunken into the seat beside her, Azriel and Cassian stood as still as stone to the side of Rhys' desk as he walked the length of the room behind it. Anger burned in his eyes, the violet orbs that Feyre loved so much now blazing with infantile fury at what he had lost.

The power pulsating around the High Lord was nothing compared to yours, but it was still uncomfortable to swim in; it was migraine-inducing, it made her eyes feel heavy and limbs weak, and she knew the power within him was teetering on the edge of unleashing.

Rhys, as calm as he was portraying, lay his palms flat against the table surface, staring Nesta and Lucien down, but neither of them relented, neither of them would dare falter in front of him, "Tell me where my sister is," his lips curled into a smile, a sadistic thing of psychotic beauty, his eyes were demanding, and Nesta stole a glance to Lucien whose fingers were ripping at the leather arms of the chair.

You had disappeared from Helion's birthday gathering, your scent floating away in the breeze, and you hadn't told a soul of where you were going. Rhys had assumed you were ashamed of yourself and had returned to Velaris, that he would be able to deal with you later. But when Eris' note had landed in Lucien's lap that evening, he had never felt such simmering relief.

There was history between Rhys and Lucien, they weren't exactly the best of friends, but they weren't enemies, Lucien dealt with him for Elain and Rhys delt with him for Feyre, but if he had it his way Lucien would cease to exist.

"Y/N," Lucien bit, to remind them that you were y/n, your own person, and not just known to be his sister and executioner, "Has denounced her place in the Night Court, she is residing elsewhere."

Azriel scoffed, his finger trailing along the sharp edge of Truthteller, "She can't denounce her place so easily."

"Well she has," Nesta smirked, her stare barrelling into Azriel whose pupils flared in response, "I suppose this is what happens when you raise a female to be nothing more than your dirty little secret."

Rhys bristled, "I would watch how you speak if I were you, Nesta."

Rolling her neck, Nesta drawled, "I think you forget how little I care for your opinions, Rhysand," Lucien hummed low in agreement, legs lax and open against the confinements of his seat, "It seems as though y/n finally realised what you've done all these years."

"And what's that?" Rhys challenged.

Nesta could have smacked that smirk from his lips, but she restrained herself from doing so. Unfortunate.

"Lie," Rhys' eyes darkened, "All you've done is lie to her. You had never hidden her to protect her from what happened to your mother and sister, you used it as an excuse so that no one would find out just how powerful she is. You hid her so that she would never realise her full potential, you never trained her abilities and yet her power still drowns you, and instead of caring for her and helping her, you locked her away in this city and silently forbade her to ever leave."

Lady Death rose to her feet and approached the desk, paying little mind to the daggers shooting from Cassian's eyes. Fuck the male who would let their master manhandle their precious mate. Nesta mirrored the High Lord, palms flat across the table and leaning in so that she could feel his breath on her cheeks, "You have raised y/n to be your executioner, you have spread this vile word of her ferocity and violence so that no one would ever wish to be around her. You created the image of a bloodthirsty monster that lays dormant in the Night Court until her master calls upon her, and y/n has realised just how much you have betrayed her. All she knows is what you reared her to be, not what she actually is or can be."

Lucien shuffled in his seat, opening his mouth and voicing, "You stole away her chance to choose her own path by manipulating her into believing that her place in the world was to be nothing but the Feared Princess of Velaris," he leaned forward in his seat, smirking at the way Cassian took a step forward, "The mere mention of her name strikes fear into the souls of every traveller, they sing songs around fires of her, she is the monster in the nightmares and the one dying men wish they never meet on the other side, and she has been allowed to be depicted like that because you wished it."

It was masterful really, how Rhys had manipulated everyone to believe that you were an awful abomination of a thing when in reality all you wanted to do was see the world and curl up with a good book. You hadn't experienced anything good or soul-awakening, Amarantha had stripped your essence from you the moment she carved your wings from your body, and that had been the moment that Rhys had wrapped his talons around your mind and bent you to his will.

"Tell me where she is."

Nesta cocked her head to the side as she scrutinised his face with horror laced in her orbs, after all they had said all he cared about was knowing where you were, he had no interest in acknowledging or accepting anything he had done. She looked to Cassian, "Do you not understand how disgusting this is? She grew up with you, you said she was like a sister to you that you loved her as much as him," Nesta pointed at Rhys who pulled back from the desk, "How could you stand by and allow this?"

"Y/N's power poses a threat to us all, I did what was necessary to ensure our safety."

"If that's truly what you think then you are no mate of mine," she spat and his eyes rounded as his forehead creased, his façade was cracking. Nesta turned her attention to Azriel, "You. You're supposed to be her best friend, she loves you more than anything, there's nothing she wouldn't do for you, Az."

Azriel shrugged, "My duty is to the Night Court."

"You're a pig," she took in the sight of Rhys who had taken a step or so backward and had found a place to lean against the fireplace, her anger bubbled and there was little she could do to stop the truth from stabbing him in his soul, "Y/N is in the Autumn Court. The one place you physically can't go, where none of you can and I'm so glad she got out of this shitshow of a city because she would have died if she had been locked away for another moment longer being treated like nothing and no one."

"Watch it."

Nesta chuckled lowly, "Or what, Rhys? You'll kick me out of the Night Court? It's a good thing that I'm already leaving."

What have I done?

The thought was on repeat in your mind, an overlapping record jolting with the same phrase.

A pit had opened inside of you, a gnarly black hole full of anger and hatred that had dampened the moment Eris had wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a flurry of light, and you could distinctly see the world as you knew it warp before your eyes.

The dress you had worn was draped over a standing mirror, the skirt of it brushing against the glass in the breeze swelling through the room Eris had led you to that night. Flowing water from a babbling brook sounded from beyond the window, harmonising with sweet birdsong and the rustling of autumn leaves. Sunlight speckled through the room and streaked across the thick brown carpet that made you feel like you were walking on clouds.

For a moment, you stopped thinking of how your life had momentously changed in the space of one decision. It was a peace you welcomed before the reality of it came crashing down on you.

Rhys would be furious once he found out that you had denounced your home court and title, so furious that he may not allow you back which wasn't exactly a bad thing. But nothing would made that vein in his forehead pop more than when he realised where you had gone. To Autumn. With Eris.

Your heart raced at the thought of it, your hands went clammy and damp, and you couldn't stop thinking about what exactly would happen to Nesta and Lucien because of your reckless decision.

You are the author of your own story.

A soft knock rattled on the door, pulling your mind back into the present. Lifting yourself from the larger-than-life bed, you padded over to the door, knowing that Eris would never just let himself into the safe space he had gifted to you.

Eris stood on the other side, the sunlight brushing over his face and turning his eyes into molten shimmer bronze, he looked handsome, dressed in tight taupe pants that were tucked into his riding boots, a cream shirt loosely poked into the waistband.

His gaze travelled down your figure that was half-hidden behind the door, specifically at the shirt he had leant you that barely fell to your mid-thigh which left the rest of your leg exposed to him. Your hair was messy from the night full of tossing and turning, but he thought you looked radiant, that it made you look rather adorable actually.

"Good morning," he told you softly once he was done examining you, there was a box in his arms along with a few folded pieces of fabric, "I went out this morning and got these for you," he offered, "You don't have any clothes here so I thought these would do for now until I could take you into town."

Taking the box and tower of clothes from his arms, you smiled, "Thank you," you suddenly felt naked in front of him, the breeze drifting inward and up your legs reminding you of that fact.

If he knew of your realisation he didn't let on, "Our fashion isn't like that of your former court, but I'm sure you'll look incredible in it regardless," his eyes sparkled and your racing heart began to relent, "I'll be in the gardens when you're ready, Fawn."

Eris left you after that, he left you with the lingering speckles of his scent, the same scent that you had drifted to sleep bathed in thanks to the large shirt he had given you. The arms of the shirt drooped on you and you knew that it was due to his large arms perfectly fitting in the fabric.

The clothes were lovely, a mixture of dresses in a variety of styles and hues that you knew would mould against your skin perfectly, tailored shirts and tight leather pants, feminine waistcoats of forest green and red wine with golden embellishments, and undergarments that you knew Eris wouldn’t dare pick himself. Even the thought made heat rise to your cheeks.

Deciding to embrace your defection, one that Eris had been careful not to voice directly, you dressed yourself in a pair of high waisted black pants and a fitted artic blue blouse. It was so unlike anything you had ever worn, but it was beautiful in its own way. Turning to the box, you lifted the lid and gasped at the oyster coloured riding boots that must have cost a small fortune considering the intricate stitching. They weren’t just regular riding boots, no, when you slid them up your calves and found yourself adjusting them to your thighs, you knew they were a statement piece if you’d ever seen one.

Pulling your hair back into a low and messy bun, you found your reflection and grinned.

Eris was right, you did look incredible, like Velaris had been dispelled from you long ago and was nothing but a horrible dream.

Fir Manor was a special place, you could see why Eris chose to live there over the Forest House. It was light and bright and full of warmth from the whispering sun, ornate furniture was littered everywhere, the library was the personification of comfort and grace, exposed wooden beams loomed overhead and the windows were large and clear enough that you could see to the edge of the estate and the woodland beyond.

Your sun-starved skin cried in relief as you stepped outside, drinking in every vitamin offered to it, a low whistle caught your ear and you found Eris stood before a pair of large but stunning stallions, his hounds chasing one another and running between their legs which didn’t phase them at all.

“You look,” he trailed off as he approached, a jacket now completing his outfit and fingers raking through his red hair.

“Like Autumn threw up on me?”

“Something like that,” you huffed out a laugh and looked to the beasts, “I thought you’d like to explore the woodland today, get you out of the manor for a few hours?”

It was an offer than you wanted to say yes to, but at the same time couldn’t, ashamed of your oncoming admittance, “I would love to. It’s just,” you faltered, your eyes moved from Eris to the towering midnight black stallion that had craned its neck to look to you inquisitively.

Eris caught on, “You don’t know how,” a solemn finish to the sentence you were trying to voice, his heart clenched slightly at the defeat in your eyes, yet another thing that had been taken from you, “Well I can teach you,” he spoke, “Today you can ride with me, learn the basics, and you’ll be on your own stallion in no time.”

The High Lord of Autumn stood beside you, elbow to elbow, and even through the fabric of your clothes, you could feel his fire prickling across your skin and work its way into the woven fibres of your soul. He stood there seemingly unknowing of it, and when he looked down on you, waiting for your answer, all you could do was nod.

The stallion, Axos, shuddered under your touch as your fingers drifted over his side and around the curve of his saddle. Hands curled around your hips and you almost fell backward at the touch, Eris was behind you, his chest moving against your back and you glanced backward at him, "Don't get too excited," he smirked, and you wished you could have seen the muscles in his arms rippling as he lifted you up, instructing you to swing your leg over before he settled in behind you with ease.

The reigns became wrapped between his fingers, his breath was hot against your neck and Axos was moving onward after a curt click from Eris' mouth, his hounds trotting happily alongside you, "You have to roll your hips with each step he takes," his voice was gruff in your ear, low enough to send shivers flowing down your spine, "Like this," he unwound one of his hands from the reigns and placed it on your hip, gently moving it back and forth to the steps of Axos beneath as the stallion carried you both into the woodland, through the arched hanging branches and grasslands.

Awareness washed over you at how close Eris truly was, you were nestled at the centre of his open legs, his thighs encased your own, his entire chest shrouded you, and a shadow fell over you from the sheer size of him. He was pressed up to your back to the point you could feel his heart beating through his shirt, a thing you had become extremely aware of but didn't dare shudder away from in fear of him pulling away from you.

The landscape was picturesque, mounds of fresh earth, dainty flowers and fallen branches, leaves of orange, brown, and red, and water flowing through the small brooks, trying to find their way to the river. Even the sun felt surreal, it streaked through any respite of bark that it could, its golden glow spreading and infecting the land. Soft scampering of tiny paws ran through the trees, squirrels jumped from branch to branch, following you and paying no attention to the swarm of hounds keeping an eye on them.

It astounded you how a place so beautiful even existed.

It scared you how place so beautiful could turn into the most vicious of battlegrounds.

"Are you afraid, of Rhys coming here?"

Eris tensed behind you, his hand still lingering on your side, "We don't have to talk about this, y/n."

"I know," you told him, smiling softly as you watched a small bunny poke its head above its burrow, "I just know him, and I don't want to put you or your court in danger."

"I'm not afraid of him, and he will never step foot in my court. I won't allow it," he was stoic, and you knew he was telling the truth, Eris had faced worse than Rhys, he had endured worse.

"I can go, I don't have to be here, Eris."

Axos stopped moving, your brows itched together in a frown and you turned to capture Eris' gaze which was riddled with confusion, "I would never dream to keep you from doing whatever it is you wish to you, even if you wish to leave, I would not stop you. But I would like you to stay, and I think you would like to stay too."

Eris' amber pools softened and he smiled sadly at you, knowing that you didn't wish to leave but wanted to protect him and his home from whatever it was that Rhys could inflict upon it, "You will always have a place here, y/n. No one can take that from you, whatever you wish for is yours."

"Who knew that the fox could be so sweet?"

Eris tilted his head back and laughed, a pure thing of serenity, he moved his hand to your thigh and squeezed it gently before grabbing at the reigns once more, "Keep going, Fawn. You're getting warmer."

The hours ticked by, idly chatter filled the air, he told you the names of his hounds, you had unmounted Axos and delved further into the woodland, touching every tree that you could as if you wouldn't see them again all whilst Eris trailed you with a distant grin on his lips. Sunlight began to wane into its mid-afternoon position, the warmth replaced with bristle breezes and the birdsong drowned out by the emerging chirps of crickets.

Golden hour.

A moment you had heard of, when the sun reached its most comfortable resting place before it beckoned the moon to start its ascent, where the world was coated in the golden autumn glow that consumed the land. You had heard the stories of its beauty, but nothing could prepare you for it as you watched the light shift to a different angle and a shimmer cling to everything that moved. The waters glistening, sparkling and reflecting against the bodies of the trees, and that sparkle bounced all over the clearing where you stood.

"It's beautiful," your voice was a whisper but your eyes floated about the clearing, your body turned where you stood and you drank it in.

"It is," Eris confirmed from where he stood, dry branches creaked under his feet as he approached, "It's something that I take for granted, when you see it every day you forget how special it is."

"I wish that you could see it again for the first time."

A weight shifted at your feet and you peered down to see one of Eris' hounds, Willow, perched atop your toes, looking up at you with a lopsided grin as she panted. Reaching down, you scratched the spot beneath her shin and between her ears, your heart swelling as her tail swatted at the floor and her eyes screwed closed as she accepted your touch, "She likes you."

Willow was an elegant beast, long brown lashes, deep brown eyes, shining fur of tan and black, and shaggy ears that fell down the sides of her face, "I like her too."

Eris' eyes glowed, with what you couldn't quite tell, "We should head back to the manor, you must be starving."

When you thought of it you were hungry, you didn't remember the last time you ate, perhaps the morning of your departure but you couldn't be sure of it. The ride back to the manor felt too short, you were relishing in his company far too much, so much so that you wished that the day wouldn't end.

Fir Manor approached in the forefront of your vision and you sighed, ready to be in more relaxing clothes, but also ready to eat something. You could only imagine how incredible the food would be if even the landscape alone brought you happiness. Eris dismounted first and held his hands up to you, not even straining as they gripped your waist and placed you back on the ground delicately.

Eris' finger reached to tuck a strand of your hair behind your pointed ear, one that must have fell loose from the effortless bun you had thrown your hair into that morning. That same finger lingered, ghosting over the curve of your jaw and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. His eyes were on you, waving themselves over your face.

You could have stayed there for much longer, in his arms with his fingers dusting over your skin. It seemed that others were too impatient to allow the moment to continue as the door to the manor swung open and you turned your head to see Nesta and Lucien stood on the porch with Elain in the doorway.

"Nes?" Eris' grip on your waist tightened slightly but relented as you moved away, pacing up the pathway and flinging yourself into her open arms which wrapped around you tightly, "What are you doing here?"

"Our place is with you," she muttered and you pulled away, looking between her, Lucien and Elain as Eris fell to your side.

"What about Cassian?"

Nesta shuddered, she took a moment to glance at Eris and the apprehension he wore as he inched closer to you, "I can't be mated to someone who could allow something like this to happen."

"I'm so sorry, Nes," guilt pooled within you and she could see that as clear as daybreak, she took a step closer to you, taking your head in her hands and stroking your cheeks with her thumbs.

"Don't be," she shushed, "I chose you. I will always choose you."

Lucien placed a hand on your shoulder and offered more detail, "Rhys is furious, but he knows that he can't get to you here," he glanced to his brother and his lips tilted downward, "He's asked for you, for a meeting at the boarder."

The High Lord growled under his breath and took a protective step to you, it was clear that Rhys was going to attempt to barter for your return, that he was going to use his manipulation tactics to steal you back, "Fine," your blood ran cold and Nesta's fingers gripped at your wrists as Eris rounded your figure to stand beside her, "You're not going anywhere, alright? It's in our best interests to see what he has to say. I'll never let him take you," Eris turned his head to peer over his shoulder at his younger brother and Elain who had drifted from the doorway to entwine her fingers with his, his eyes faltered in want before he spoke, "You'll accompany me."

Lucien nodded stiffly and once, "For her, I'll do whatever you need me to."

"Thank you," Eris' words were sincere and he found Nesta's gaze, "You can all stay here for however long you'd like," then he found yours and he reached for your hand, his calloused fingers brushing over your knuckles, "Forever if it suits."

The sun hung low in the sky, the moon was pushing itself through the clouds and your heart raced with anticipation for the moment Eris and Lucien would both leave for the boarder, "Please be careful."

Eris nodded, rubbing your clothes arms in his hands to allow his warmth to run through you, "We will. Go and get changed, I'll see to it that food is on the table for you three by the time you're back."

"Us three?"

"The boarder is hours away," Lucien spoke for his brother who couldn't bare to tell you that they would have to leave imminently in order to meet with Rhys, "If we don't leave soon then we risk missing the window altogether."

"You're safe here, y/n. They can't get in."

In that moment, all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him, just to bask in his scent and warmth for another moment longer, but you couldn't. Instead, you nodded and allowed Nesta and Elain to lead you inside, and you continued to look over your shoulder up until the moment when Lucien closed the door with a tight lipped smile cast in your direction.

It would not be the last time you'd see him. If it was, then you'd decimate the entire of Prythian with your fury.

Author's Note

Here we are!

Hope you love it x

Someone told me that 'Who's Afraid of Little Old Me' by Taylor Swift is so The Fox and The Fawn reader coded and I cannot stop thinking about it

Taglist

@mybestfriendmademe @jesskidding3 @rosewood-cafe @fandomarchiveilyd @brujitafantomatico @crazylokonugget @mai-adaptive-dreams @magicstrengthandcourage @acourtofmoonlightandstars @ysmttty @lilah-asteria @circe143 @xyzmeh @paleidiot @namelesssav @amberlynn98 @acourtofbatboydreams @azrielsmate3 @ivy-34 @mp-littlebit @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @iamjimintrash @ifonlyiwerefiction @pirana10

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dannymayevent · 1 year

Text

Dannymay 2023

Alright, that was fun, but now it's time for the real calendar!

Welcome everyone to Dannymay 2023, aka a long held tradition in May where creatives challenge themselves with a 31 day calendar of fun prompts!

You can draw, write, create music, make a video, craft something cool, really whatever you want! Crossovers and OC's are allowed, so the sky's the limit!

Whether you just wanna do one prompt or all of them, everyone's welcome to join! This is a fun event first and foremost, so go at your own pace. Once you're done with your creation, post it to Tumblr with the #Dannymay2023 tag so we can see it!

We will have an ao3 collection available under Dannymay 2023, and we also have an event Discord link which can be found at the bottom of our faq.

Click under the readmore for a full list as well as the AUs/Challenges descriptions!

Fantasy AU: Bring all your fantastical favorites into DP!

Backpack

Blizzard

Fractals

10 minutes vs 1 hour: Make a fic/art piece in 10 minutes, and then try to make it again in an hour!

Eclipse

Weapon

Electric Core AU: What if instead of having an "ice core," he has an electrical one?

Ghost Zone

Bones

Underwater

Traditional Media: Electronics don't exist! Time to break out the paper, pencils, pens—whatever you got!

Monster

Seance

Full Hazmat AU: In which Danny went into the portal wearing a real hazmat suit.

Fangs

Temper

Grave

No Control Z/Backspace: Try to make a piece without erasing anything!

Nasty Burger

Shatter

Cryptid AU: Phantom's a bit strange, a bit creepier, doesn't quite look/feel right...

Rogue Gallery

NASA

Blame

Art/Fic Switch: Everyone switches mediums for the day! Artists are now writers, writers are now artists! If you do both, go with your weakest. If you're not an artist/writer, then choose one to try!

Rings

Campfire

Ghost Speak AU: Where all ghosts speak the Language Of The Dead

Post-Reveal

Free Day: Congrats, it's the last day! Choose whatever you want to make for the day!

#danny phantom #dannymay2023 #calendar

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wooataes · 13 days

Text

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Ten)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Hanahaki!AU, angst, alcohol consumption, green-eyed monster named jealousy, tears, lots of crying, heartbreak, mentions of death, suggestive thoughts? guilt, swearing

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: It has been a long time coming! Oh my goodness guys, thank you so much for your incredible patience with me as I have been navigating my life into the new year and getting my life together essentially. I finally (with the support of my friendos) managed to get this up and out for you all! Thank you all as always for your love and support of refl! 🥰

- Tae 💜🌸✨

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Ask to be added to my taglist!

Jihoon was so fucked.

To his credit, he is trying. Trying to ignore the fact that his body feels some sort of attraction towards his soulmate, situated only a few feet away from him on a beach chair. Trying to ignore the ink embedded into your skin along your collarbone that he can see out of his peripheral vision.

Trying to ignore temptation.

Your sunglasses are pushed up your nose to keep the sun out of your eyes, having opted to let the sun warm your body up instead of making your way into the water. It’s unusual for Jihoon to see you so still and so silent, simply basking in the sunlight as a hand belonging to Jisoo reaches up to pat your calf. Jihoon immediately scowls to himself when he sees the older man glance up at you from his towel, asking quietly if you’re good to which you respond with a little nod and smile before leaning your head back again and relaxing into the beach chair.

Your soulmate heaves a soft sigh as he checks his phone for the fourth time in the last two hours. Ji-ah was due to arrive back in Seoul soon and he has been growing increasingly more worried the longer it takes for her to not answer.

“Y/N!” A loud voice rouses you from your hungover slumber, causing you to whine and look at the shadow that is now blocking the sun from you that comes in the form of a 6’2 man named Kim Mingyu.

“Mm?” You grumble.

“Why won’t you come swimming with us?” he pouts at you, hands on his hips.

“I’m having my enrichment time out of my enclosure.” You deadpan, eyes closing again, a little grin forming on your face as you hear Mingyu let out a loud whine.

“Please can you come in the water?”

“Why does it have to be me?” You groan.

“Because Wonwoo can’t do swimming because of an accident when he was younger, Kwan and Sol are in their own little honeymoon phase world over there,” he points to said couple who are making an intricate sand castle, “Minnie is hanging off Soonie-hyung like a rash, Hannie-hyung will just attempt to use us all as a floatation device-”

“What makes you think I won’t do the same?” You raise your eyebrow.

“AND,” he glares at you, ignoring your comment. “Your brother is sulking that it’s only me who is playing with him. Please?”

“Do I have to?” You throw your head back with a dramatic sigh.

“If you don’t come in the water willingly, I will have to take you by force, Y/Nie.”

“Ha ha ha.” You roll your eyes. “I’d like to see you try.”

Jihoon has kept his back to you both for the entirety of your interaction with Mingyu, deciding on his own that he needs to actually follow Jeonghan’s advice and actively make an effort to at least attempt to ignore you and help you move on. He is finding it extremely difficult, however, due to the bikini you’re currently in looking too inviting for you to wriggle your way into his thoughts like a catchy song that can’t seem to escape his brain.

Mingyu seems to take your words as a challenge though, as not even two seconds later, Jihoon is alerted by a shriek coming from you.

“KIM MINGYU!” You try and scold, the large man having now scooped you up into his arms, marching his way towards the water. Jeonghan and Wonwoo both begin to laugh at the way you flail and kick to no avail.

“Yes, Y/Nie?” Mingyu grins at you, and you thrash more.

“Kim Mingyu, I swear if you don’t put me the fuck down right now…”

“Oh, put you down?” He smirks. “Okay!”

“YAH!” You let out another squeal as he moves to drop you, but you’re faster. You immediately wrap your arms and legs around his torso, squeezing onto him for dear life. Seungcheol bursts out laughing at the sight of you, a big smile on his face as he watches on.

“I meant out of the water, you BRAT!” You smack at Mingyu’s back, who only trudges deeper into the water. You whine loudly and cling tighter to him.

“Are you sure you want to call me a brat when I could sink both of us into the water right now?” He raises his eyebrows at you, arms down by his sides as you hold onto him like a backpack..

“Yah!” You whimper, burying your face into his shoulder. Jihoon bristles at the feeling in his stomach. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’ll hang out!”

“Told you it would work.” Mingyu smirks to your brother, who only grins back triumphantly.

“I hate that you know me too well.” You groan, carefully untangling yourself from the overgrown puppy’s broad back, shivering at the feeling of the cold water as you sink your feet into the salty beach water. “I swear to god though, if you try to push me under the water, I will end you.”

Soonyoung only giggles at the glare on your face, glancing back to the shore at Jeonghan. “Hyung, isn’t she cute when she’s angry?”

“The cutest!” Jeonghan calls back, an amused smirk forming on his face as you shoot your brother’s soulmate a glare.

“I hate you all.” You grumble, crossing your arms with a pout, only making the boys around you giggle more.

“Oh come here, you big baby.” Seokmin turns around, offering his back to you.

Jihoon feels the immediate change in your mood lift to excitement, glancing over to see you happily perched up on Seokmin’s back, who wades slowly through the water with you comfortably resting against him.

“Thank you Minnie~” You sing sweetly, hugging around his shoulders.

“Hey!” Mingyu points accusingly at you. “That isn’t fair! I went through all that work to bring you out here only to have you be coddled in the water too?”

“Be grateful I’m even here, Mingyu.” You playfully glare at him, Seokmin turning you away from him as Soonyoung starts cooing and patting your head, making you grin.

“Aish, what are we going to do with you…”

For the next hour, Jihoon knows he is torturing himself by listening to the others around him (aka you) have fun. Him, alongside Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Seungkwan and Hansol watches as you with the others play happily around in the water. For the better part of twenty minutes, the game of choice, chosen by the birthday boy, has been Marco Polo. You have opted out of this game, your soulmate keeping an eye on your head currently nestled against Seokmin’s warm shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as the heat from the sun covers you like a blanket and makes your sleepiness return at full force. You look peaceful, he thinks.

His calm thoughts soon turn to discomfort as he feels his phone vibrate against his pocket, hurriedly reaching down to check the text, only to feel himself deflate at the message from his girlfriend.

Made it safe. x

No nickname, no warmth, no nothing. This is seriously unlike Ji-ah at all, and it has Jihoon nervous. Should he reply like normal? Or should he give his girlfriend the space she needs to handle her emergency?

“Jihoon-ah?” Wonwoo’s voice cuts his thoughts short, startling his housemate as he turns to stare at him with wide eyes. “You okay over there?”

“Uh, y-yeah.” He hums slightly. “Ji-ah just let me know she made it home safely.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

Is it?

“Yeah, I suppose.” Jihoon replies after a short pause, sighing quietly.

“It’s okay to be worried about her.” Wonwoo smiles at him, patting his shoulder gently. “After all, she is your-”

“YAH!” Your voice squeals out, alarming the others as they turn to look at the ocean. You’re swatting at your brother, who is loudly cackling and snatching you from Seokmin’s arms. “Get away from me, you big buffoon!”

The others upon the shore begin to laugh and smile at Seungcheol as he spins you around bridal style. “You dare be rude to your big brother on his birthday, hmm?”

“HANNIE OPPA!” You shriek as Jihoon glances at your brother’s soulmate, who simply smirks back. “DO SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR SOULMATE!”

“And ruin my hair if I fall into the water? You’re on your own, Ladybug.”

“You bast-AAAAAH!” You yelp as Seungcheol tosses you to Mingyu, who catches you effortlessly. “I hate you all!”

“What did I do?!” Seungkwan fires back immediately, wagging his finger dramatically at you as the others laugh at the joyful mood surrounding them all.

Jihoon breathes a sigh of relief at the change of subject from Wonwoo’s questioning, letting his head lean back to briefly glance at the sky as he delves back into his own thoughts.

“Aw, come on guys, leave the girl alone!” Jisoo chuckles as he rises from his towel, tucking a surfboard under his arm. He jogs into the sea, sitting up on his board as he paddles his way over to the group. “Come here, Goober. I’ll save you from these punks.” He laughs as Mingyu turns away from him, holding you tight to his chest.

“Nuh-uh! She stays with us!”

“She’s not going to stray far, promise.” He pats the board gently, making the tall man sigh and plonk you down in front of your childhood friend.

“Thank you, Shua’ppa.” You smile sweetly at him before poking your tongue out at Mingyu, who huffs and splashes you playfully, making you yelp.

“Do you know how to surf, Goob?” Jisoo asks gently, giving you a cheeky grin.

“Hong Jisoo.” You deadpan, raising an eyebrow. “I am a homebody girl from Daegu. What do you think?”

“Well,” he ignores your sass, crossing his arms across his chest as you mimic him. “Would you like to learn?”

“When I feel like throwing up from how the ocean is rocking me right now?” You laugh. “I think that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Hmm.. you make a compelling argument.” He hums sagely, reaching up and stroking his chin, trying not to grin at the sound of your giggles. “How about then I teach you how to keep your balance on the board? No wave riding.”

“Can you guarantee that I won’t fall in?” Jisoo simply raises his hand up, his pinky extended to link with yours, flashing you an angelic smile. You narrow your eyes for a moment before reaching out to link your pinky with his. “I swear, if I fall in…”

“Trust me, Goober!”

Jihoon blinks and raises his head as he feels your amusement filling his veins, eyes coming into focus as he curiously gazes out to the sea to see why you’re feeling this way.

Your legs are shaking as you attempt to stand on the idle surfboard, your nervous laughs reaching down to where your soulmate sits. Jisoo is standing behind you with his large hands settled delicately on your bare waist, keeping you steady as he talks quietly into your ear on how to stand correctly that Jihoon can’t hear.

Jihoon feels his hair stand on end as his eyes zero in on the older man’s hands resting on your bare skin, bristling in his chair slightly.

“You can do it, Ladybug!” Jeonghan is cheering from the shore, an amused grin on his face as you flip him off.

“Focus, Goober.” Jisoo’s voice is steady as he keeps his hands on you.

You take a deep breath, standing with your legs apart as he directs you, biting down on your lip and holding your arms out to keep your balance, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That’s it!” Seungcheol cheers you on from the water, keeping a hold on the surfboard so it doesn’t toss and tip as much.

“Look at her go, babe!” Seungkwan coos excitedly to Hansol from their spot in the sand, as his soulmate watches on with an amused smile.

“Bug, open your eyes!” Soonyoung laughs at your scrunched up face.

“Goober,” Jisoo laughs, both hands now in the air. “You’re doing it. Open your eyes.”

You slowly open your eyes, looking down to see your legs balancing on the board. Your eyes widen as you look around at Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungcheol and Mingyu in the water, all cheering excitedly at you and Jisoo standing behind you with a proud grin.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh nervously. “I’m doing it.”

“WOOHOO!” Seungkwan cheers from ashore, waving excitedly with Hansol as Wonwoo simply gives you a thumbs up from beside your soulmate, who just stares with a bewildered look on his face, not knowing how to comprehend the feelings that are in his stomach.

“See?” Jisoo smiles charmingly at you, leaning in to press his lips to your temple. “I told you that you could do it.”

Jihoon grimaces at the shy smile that graces your face.

“Jihoon-ssi?”

“Hmm?” Jihoon’s brain switches into focus at the sound of your brother's voice calling out for him.

They had been back at the campsite now for roughly two hours after a long birthday dinner in the city for Seungcheol, full of fried chicken and even more alcohol. Everyone now has settled down around the campfire, ready for a final night of alcohol and drinking games for the last hurrah of the trip.

“Soonyoungie said that you are studying music production.” He smiles warmly at him. Jihoon bristles. “What made you want to pursue that?”

“O-oh.” He stutters. “Umm..”

It’s not that he was afraid of his soulmate’s brother and the fact that if he knew that he rejected his precious sister, he’d rip his head off, no, it was the fact that Jihoon isn’t a very sociable person. He has never been one to hold any type of conversation for very long with anyone unless it was something he was passionate about. Luckily for him, music is one of his specialties that he could go on for hours about. So, he does.

”My older cousin is an amateur producer and songwriter.” Jihoon quietly smiles. “He has a few albums that he’s made at the moment. His soulmate does choreography for some of his tracks. I always thought he was really cool and wanted to follow his footsteps and do what he does. I guess I’m kind of his protege now?” He shrugs his shoulders nervously with a chuckle. “There’s just something I find really interesting about breaking down a song into different segments and sections, and creating completely new beats and melodies from the source material.”

“Wow,” Seungcheol replies with curious eyes. “That’s actually really interesting.”

”I suppose so,” your soulmate nods his head as he smiles shyly to himself.

“Do you plan on releasing things in the future?”

“Oh! Um.. Maybe?” He blinks. “I write a few things here and there, but they’re not very good, I don’t think.”

“Don’t downplay your skills and hobbies, Jihoon-ssi.” Seungcheol pats his shoulder once as he rises from his spot by the campfire. “If you enjoy it, that’s all that matters.” He makes his way to grab himself a second serving of the birthday cake you had brought from your work for the final night of Seungcheol’s birthday celebrations.

Jihoon smiles to himself.

He is so kind. No wonder you turned out so well. After all, he did help raise you for most of your teen years.

“It’s not tap, tap, kick,” Soonyoung instructs loudly. “It’s tap, kick, tap! Yah, don’t you remember anything from this routine, Kwan-ah?”

“We made this dance four years ago, Hyung.” Seungkwan glares, hand on his hip. “Please spare me for not remembering a dance that is nearly HALF A DECADE old.”

“NO EXCUSES!” He shouts back, pointing dramatically as he begins to get back into position. “Five, six, seven, eight!” Seungkwan groans and begrudgingly begins to move in time to Soonyoung’s movements, much to your amusement as you weave your way through the camping chairs, bundles of bracelets in hand.

“One for you,” You chirp, two bottles of soju deep as you slide a bracelet onto Seungkwan’s wrist as you pass without skipping a beat. “And a specially made tiger one for you,” You coo, squeaking and giggling as Soonyoung takes your hand, twirling you in his arms and dipping you dramatically as the bracelet slides with ease onto his wrist, your loud laugh echoing through the empty forest and right into your soulmate’s ears, sending goosebumps down his arms.

”Thank you, Buggie Wuggie Boo,” Soonyoung coos, making you groan and shove him away.

“ICK!” You yell as you continue to pass bracelets through the group, Jihoon eyeing you out of the corner of his eye as you draw closer towards where he sits. “Here you go, Hannie-Oppa!”

”Thank you, sweetheart.” your brother’s soulmate smiles, ruffling your hair as he admires the colourful beads on his wrist.

Jihoon takes a deep breath as he feels your presence draw closer, eyes downcast as you fiddle with one of two bracelets in your hand. “Jihoon-ssi,” your voice is once again timid and shy, and he dislikes it. “I didn’t know what colour you liked, and I noticed your wardrobe is pretty void of colour, so…” You quietly place a simple black and grey beaded bracelet with his name written in lettered beads in the middle on his lap. “I thought it matches your look.”

Jihoon stares at the bracelet, picking it up and examining it between his fingers. He can feel your nerves running through your stomach, fiddling with the remaining bracelet in your hands. After a soft sigh, Jihoon slips the bracelet onto his wrist, cheeks warming at the kind gesture of you still including him.

“It’s perfect.” Jihoon smiles softly to you. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Your cheeks flush as you give him a small smile, turning and making your way towards Chan, who said quietly beside Wonwoo as he ate.

“I saved the best bracelet for last,” you smile to the youngest, sliding the final bracelet onto his wrist delicately.

“What colour is it, Noona?” Chan asks quietly, staring at the beads intently.

“Well,” you begin, sitting down beside him. “I made this with every coloured bead I could think of. It’s a rainbow.”

“Huh?” Chan balked, tilting his head. “Why would you do that? I can’t even see them…”

”I made it this way because then, the day that you meet your soulmate,” you nudge the bracelet, “you will be able to see all the colours of the rainbow straight away.” Your eyes light up with a little smile.

Jihoon’s stomach drops at the sound of hope and joy in your voice that is almost infectious, and he scowls to himself.

“Hannie-Oppa did the same for me, see?” You chirp, holding your hand out and showing Chan your nails, now chipped and slightly overgrown. “He gave me all the colours I could have on my hand, and I wanted to do the same to you.”

“B-but…” Chan takes a quiet breath. “Noona.. wh-what if… what if I meet my soulmate and it doesn’t work out? What if… what if I’m left behind and look like a complete fool?” He stares at his lap, knee bouncing nervously.

Your soulmate feels a twist of discomfort in his gut at the maknae’s question, turning his head to see the same discomfort evident on your face.

“Chan-ah,” you smile softly, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Don’t be silly.”

“B-but you-”

“Uh-uh-uh,” you wiggle your finger at him. “Things like that only happen to people like me, who are just simply unlucky in life.” Jihoon feels the dagger pressing against his chest. “You, little one, are lucky, and I know your soulmate will be absolutely smitten with you when you meet. And, in that impossible scenario,” You bump your shoulder against his, “you’ll always have all of these guys here to spend time with. And even Noona too.” You add on for good measure, smiling sweetly at him. Jihoon feels the dagger twist inside him. Chan shyly smiles back, leaning his head against your shoulder, signaling for you to give him a big side hug, cheek resting against the top of his head.

“Promise I’ll always have you, Noona?”

“Silly boy,” You giggle. “I couldn’t leave you alone, even if I tried.” You ruffle his hair once more, causing him to whine and swat your arm, your giggle growing once more as Jihoon feels his stomach twist and tighten, a million thoughts once again flooding his mind.

“Okay,” Seokmin settles comfortably in his chair, looking around at the circle. “Here’s a question.” He hums quietly at the small group that has formed around him of you, Wonwoo, Jisoo, Jeonghan and Jihoon. “If you could have one wish that could be granted, what would you wish for?” Before anyone can open their mouths, he points aggressively towards Jeonghan. “NO WISHING FOR MORE WISHES!”

“Yah, you’re no fun.” Jeonghan whines, slumping in his chair and crossing his arms.

“I would wish for…” Wonwoo mumbles. “Being able to have enough money in my pocket at all times to be able to afford what I need at that time.”

”That is… oddly specific.” Jisoo chuckles.

“But practical.” Seokmin grins.

“I would wish for Seokminnie to let me answer questions the way I want to.” Jeonghan huffs, shooting him a playful glare as Seokmin gasps loudly, pressing his hand to his chest in shock,

“How dare you!”

”What about you, Goob?” Jisoo nudges your side with a little smile.

“I’d wish soulmates didn’t exist.”

The group falls silent, the air filling with awkward tension as they balk, trying to think of an answer.

“Bug, I…”

“Not for the reason you think.” You mutter, staring into the fire with a dull look on your face. “If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d only have divorced parents, not a dead mother and an absent father. If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d still be able to go home and see my mother and tell her about how my day went. If soulmate’s didn’t exist, I’d actually be wanted.”

Jihoon feels his heart twist, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he eyes your face. You look empty. Jihoon can’t feel a thing, and that frightens him.

“C’mere.” Jisoo takes your hand delicately, leading you to a small clearing; the same clearing that Jihoon went to the night before.

The little conversations start up again, Jihoon’s ears zeroing in on Jeonghan’s light scolding to Seokmin as to why he’d ask such a ridiculous question. His ears are ringing as your emotionless words echo through his head, making him feel worse than he ever has before.

“Goober…” Jisoo encourages you quietly to speak.

“Remember how you asked me yesterday if I was okay?” Your voice shakes. “If I was broken?”

Jisoo nods slowly, hand resting on your shoulder.

“A-and I said to you I was fine?”

“Mhm…”

“I-I.. I’m not. I’m not okay.” You whimper, bottom lip trembling. “I’m living a good life, I have a job I love, friends and family who care about me, I can-” you hiccup. “I-I can see colour… and I’m fucking broken.”

You let out a loud sob, a heartbroken wail, letting yourself fall into Jisoo’s arms, your face burying into the warmth of his sweater as your arms wrap tightly around him. Jisoo feels his own tears filling his eyes at the sound of your broken cries, your hands gripping the back of his sweater for dear life, as if afraid he would disappear.

”I know, Goob… Don’t worry, I got you. Let it out.”

“Are you sure it’s been resolved?” Jihoon smiles at Ji-ah as they stroll through the street, making their way to Love Letter cafe.

It has been a week since he has returned from Busan with you and the others; the group having been mostly quiet as they recovered from the long weekend of partying and merging back into their daily lives. This is the first time Jihoon has seen his girlfriend, having given her space to get through her emergency. He’s finally happy he is able to have a date with her after being at university all week and catching up on the projects he wasn’t able to do while on the road trip.

“Yes, babe, I’m sure.” Ji-ah smiles back at him. For some reason, though, Jihoon finds the smile uneasy and almost hollow, and he can’t figure out why until a quiet voice cuts his thoughts short.

“Ji-ah?”

He pauses as he sees a tall man in front of him with a single rose in his left hand, right hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Hajoon.” Ji-ah whispers out with a nervous breath, almost like she’s been caught.

Jihoon freezes at the sight in front of him - his not-soulmate with red tinged cheeks and shy smile on her face, and a stranger looking just as shy and sheepish smiling back at her. He feels his stomach drop as his mind flashes with realization at the scene unfolding in front of him.

He knows the look on her face. He has seen that look before with Wonwoo and Mingyu, Junhui and Minghao, and especially with Seungcheol and Jeonghan.

His heart breaks a little, as Jihoon knows in his heart that he’s already lost his girlfriend to her real love, her soulmate.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@vixensss @hemmingsness @lizzymizzy-blogg @kawennote09 @breakfastburritosattiffanys @im-gemmy @friendlywraith @devinkelsey19 @kameko-ko @mar-627 @woozieeeee @milopenne @stellauniverse @addicsvt @changbinisms @phenomenalgirl9 @lanatheawesome @maidachi @jeanjacketjesus @sunnynapp @jihanniee @reallyshypost @jaeminsbuckethat @sweetchelly @iarayara @opheliaas-stuff @claireleem @hotricewoozi @beardedartgamingbakery @sumzysworld @lavayeon @unusuallyshy @woozixo @mirxzii @mhlsymlysn @seventeenthingsblr @kwanniesboo @loomsuhcats @markleehee @scuzmunkie @tumblerluvver @wooanghae @xxpr3ttyk173rxx @comingupwithacoolnameishard @whorecore-world @sana-is-ms-rmty @bitterbluemorningstar

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#seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #lee jihoon x reader #woozi angst #woozi x reader #lee jihoon angst #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #woozi fluff

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ancuninfiles · 15 days

Text

Your Peace

Screenshot: @cheekylittlepupp GIF: @astarionposting

An enormous thank-you to @gelican-gelicant (Gelican AO3) for beta-reading tf out of this. (and being my first beta-reader uwu). I highly recommend checking out their works, as they are my number 1 favourite.

M/F Astarion x Female Tav - 9.8K words Warning: Graphic depictions of violence Summary: Astarion is tactful and precise, while Tav fights like a brute with no decorum, which leaves her badly injured after every battle. Astarion teaches barbaric Tav a lesson by besting her in hand-to-hand combat, but Tav wants Astarion's hands on her in more ways than one.

Tags: predator/prey, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, choking, oral sex (female receiving), play-fighting, rough sex, feral Astarion, feral Tav, light bondage, smut and fluff, 2 sex scenes, realization of feelings, mildly dubious consent, aftercare, soft Astarion, blood loss, vampire bites, creampie

Read on AO3 (Recommended)

It had been another uneventful day, each one bleeding into the next; another goblin-overrun village to loot, another set of monsters to bargain with - this time, a surprisingly intelligent gaggle of ogres; and one more day without a solution in sight for the damned tadpoles invading their brains.

The sun setting on the camp, the group began to shed their armour. Astarion heard the clinking of mail and breastplates reverberate throughout the clearing; but not a sound from Tav's tent, who often opted to go without. Preferring close combat, she always felt it somehow hindered her ability to fight well - she insisted on her preference for lightweight leather and linen, at the cost of returning to camp covered head-to-toe in not only the blood of their enemies but her own as well - a perpetual caul of intermingled ichor.

This never seemed to bother Tav, however. If anything, she viewed battle scars as an honour, never complaining about a wound that didn’t reach her internal organs. But Astarion didn’t match her cavalier attitude, eyeing her scored skin with unease.

His approach was in stark contrast to hers, talented with a bow and arrow as he was, and nearly invisible when striking from the shadows. He followed a simple rule: to strike and to not be struck. The signs were subtle when he initiated a battle - not a cry or shout from an enemy spotting him - but by a foe falling to the ground with a punctured jugular, or tumbling to the ground with an arrow between their eyes that they hadn’t even seen coming.

His technique and precision earned him an unspoken right to first blow in most of their assaults, whereas Tav's methods in battle were the opposite; though sloppy and uncalculated, she was a hard hitter. While he struck the first blow silently, she oft landed the finishing blow with a bang - finishing what he started. Astarion was never one to blanche at the sight of blood, but not every one of their companions were so jaded to seeing crushed skulls with brains spilling out; Gale could often be found emptying his stomach after the more gruesome of the massacres Tav created.

While their symbiosis was effective, Astarion had bitten his tongue for weeks to keep from chiding Tav’s tactless strategy - or lack thereof. Despite her rugged constitution, she could not be infallible forever, and he did not want to be caught mid-battle with their best fighter downed on the day she learned that lesson the hard way. Tav was going to end up in the enemy's hands, or dead. As his travel-mates relaxed, he fretted over this thought and realized unsettlingly that the thought of her bloodied and limp turned his stomach infinitely more than the sight of a hundred of the skulls that she crushed like old fruit.

It was then that an idea came to him. He’d show Tav how easily he could best her in a fight - then she would start taking her self-preservation more seriously. Having gone a full day with barely a speck of trouble, he knew they both had stamina for sparring. He could challenge her to hand-to-hand combat, proposing it as a game.

And from what he knew of Tav, impulsive and brutish as she was, there was no way she would turn down his proposition.

__________

The sun had begun to fall, only a sliver of daylight colouring the sky in purple and amber hues. Astarion was washed up and in fresh night clothes, and Tav sat by the fire, warming her hands. Astarion approached from across the tall flames, standing in front of her with his hands on his hips.

"Hey Astarion," she said dully, before gazing back down at the fire and hugging her knees.

"Hi, dear." He eyed her inquisitively. "Bored?"

Tav looked back up at him with wide eyes. "Yeah, well - we didn't even get to murder any evil bastards today." She averted her gaze downwards before mindlessly rubbing the scars on her forearm. “It helps take my mind off of things. The pain, I mean. It gives me something else to focus on.” She let out a heavy sigh.

Astarion paused before responding. Her words were befuddling to him, planting a seed of worry in his mind. He had plenty of things to keep his mind from drifting to, whether that be his inevitable clash with Cazador or the ever-looming threat of illithid transformation; so he would sew or read, like a normal person. Pain was something to be avoided, not sought after in some hapless attempt at distraction.

”Are you aware that you're a bit self-destructive?" He asked, crossing his arms and clicking his tongue. He shook his head at her. "My dear, we all need you alive. You can't keep throwing yourself to the lions at every opportunity."

"Well, it’s worked for me so far." She frowned pensively, gazing into the flames and continuing to stroke the bumps of scar tissue across her forearms.

Astarion knelt to her level, tilting his head from side to side and lifting his shoulders in a gesture of indifference. "Eh - that’s correct, so far. You’ve managed to keep all your limbs attached, but I would be remiss if I didn’t insist that it’s not . . . sustainable behaviour." He offered her a smile to soften the blow of his criticism, which she returned with a withering stare.

Tav rolled her eyes. "Hmm,” she said, finally looking up at him, “you think you're stronger than me? Is that it?"

"Well, no,” he said, standing again, “but I don’t think it’s a matter of opinion that I leave the battlefield with the same amount of casualties, yet far fewer scars.” He held out his hand. "I have a, er, proposition of sorts."

Tav looked up at him quizzically as the wind blew the fire smoke sideways. "What kind of proposition?"

"Well," he began, "I suggest we find a spot in the woods and play a game. No weapons, no tools. Hand-to-hand combat, just you and I. If I win, you’ll let me teach you how to complete a battle without becoming horribly mangled each and every time. If you win, I’ll leave it, and you can keep on fighting like a rabid animal with no further complaint on my end." His eyes held a devious twinkle despite his nonchalant tone. "So, what do you say?"

Astarion knew he had succeeded in appealing to her competitive nature when she grinned like a child challenged to a footrace. "Well that’s not fair - you challenge me on a day like today, when I sit here craving bloodshed? How could I say no? Let's do it!"

He smiled with satisfaction. Insatiable, he thought.

As she stood, he was already pinpointing her weakness. Today, she would learn the downside of fighting mindlessly. She would learn, one way or another, to keep her head on a swivel - so he wouldn’t have to fret every time she left his sight.

He held out his hand. "We're going to have so much fun, darling," he said, smiling his scoundrel’s smile.

This was going to be easy.

__________

The last light from the sun disappeared from the horizon as they waltzed to a clearing in the woods.

When they arrived at a suitable glade, Astarion placed his hands on either side of Tav's shoulders and carefully repositioned her. "You stand here." He said.

She obliged and nodded her head, unable to bite back her giddiness

He fought the urge to praise her for being such an obedient pup, at the risk of incurring her contrarian nature. But he loved how much trust she put in him - a foreign and welcome feeling. It was a strange swell of pride in his diaphragm that had only grown since she first let him drink her lifeblood; a feeling that he had begun to grow attached to. Every stirring and sound from her caused a mirrored reaction in his chest - self-preservation on his part, surely, and nothing else; his body, simply securing the safety of its self-replenishing food source.

Astarion stalked 10 feet away from Tav before wheeling around to face her. Tav was already crouched, tense and savage.

He groaned internally. How helpless she is, he thought. She’s already given it all away, every move announced before we’ve even started.

But this wasn't a lesson yet - it was still a game. He would give her one practice round, before driving his lesson home.

"Alright, listen up." He cleared his throat. "Ground rules: No weapons, as you already know. And we fight til one of us is prone - no killing one another, if you please; I would hate to waste more coin on that stingy skeleton's magic." With a coy glance, he added, "Oh - and I'm not going to go easy, dear. I’d expect the same from you." He smirked and stood in an upright position, examining his nails.

He could see without even glancing up that she was practically frothing at the mouth. She looked like a fragile doe, practicing its most menacing and barbaric battle stance. Astarion’s undead heart fluttered. If it were not so pathetic, it might be hopelessly endearing. He wondered if the others ever noticed that duality of natures in Tav - secretly, he hoped they hadn’t. Some dark corner of his heart whispered that her nature ought only to be his to see. The others could cringe and wince at her animality as they liked; and only he would see the beauty that lay under the butchery.

She nodded her head and readied herself further, teetering from left to right.

"Ready?" Astarion asked.

Tav simply nodded again as she swayed back and forth, holding his gaze..

"Set."

Her pupils widened, and her heels dug into the ground, which delighted Astarion to no end, though he dared not show it.

"Go."

Tav charged Astarion, kicking up dirt and sticks in her wake. Astarion readied himself and bent his knees. He could see plain as day not only that she was preparing to tackle him, but the angle she aimed for; the direction of her gaze and lack of any grace or guise gave away every move, long before she made it.

All he had to do was step aside.

She looked behind her, rage in her eyes fueled further by adrenaline, but Astarion was nowhere to be seen. She stood there in her battle stance, with breath heaving, head whipping around in a panic.

Not but 5 seconds later, Astarion had kicked the backs of Tav's knees with his shin and grabbed her ponytail. He ripped her to the ground by her hair with his left hand, and her knees folded beneath her completely. He gained further purchase, clasping his fingers at the nape of her hairline and scraping his nails against her scalp. He sat astride her thighs, locking her under his weight.

Quick and precise, he snaked his right hand up to grasp her neck with crushing pressure before letting go of her scalp. His fingers could nearly wrap completely around the meagre girth of her swan-like neck. But he had promised not to hold back - so he pulled her head about a foot off of the ground by her throat.

This all happened so fast that Tav had not even caught a breath before she registered she was caught in his chokehold. She startled, attempting to plant a right hook on the square of his jaw but he dodged and then lunged his head forward to bite deeply into her wrist with his whole maw. He didn't try to drain her, but the gesture let her know that he could have; the taste of her in his mouth, warm and heady, was only an additional perk.

Tav yanked at her arm, which affected nothing but the width of the wounds as her skin tore further under his fangs.. Tav groaned at the pain and Astarion smiled into the bite, the red of her blood dripping down his face marking victory. Tav used her left hand to try and pry herself away from Astarion's strangling grasp but she was significantly weaker from the lack of oxygen supply to her brain.

She continued to wince and squirm to no avail under his blood-red sneer, but it seemed to only egg him on further. His pupils blew wide, and he finally resembled the predator he was. His jaw tightened on her wrist while his hand mercilessly squeezed her throat, a boa constrictor toying with its prey

Her ferocity only spurred the flame within him. Only when her face began to go purple did he bring his unoccupied wrist to her mouth, a mocking offering of a chew toy.

If she would not tap out to end their game, he would win when she would inevitably faint away. But she bit anyway - a final fuck-you salute before she drifted into unconsciousness, of blunt teeth pressing pathetically with a slackening jaw.

Astarion laughed at her with a mouth full of flesh as he moved his wrist back and forth, watching her fight her losing battle to the last breath. His eyebrows canted upwards. Adorable, he thought. As if she still stands a chance.

He leaned forward and lifted her head further until they were only inches apart, but Tav continued to look back at him with unfaltering determination. Tav’s bleeding wrist nestled in his mouth, dripping beads of crimson onto her paling cheeks. Astarion screwed up his face, letting loose a deep, guttural growl, scarlet fluid bubbling and spattering from his lips to her face. Her lashes fluttered as she drifted away. The last sound she made before the world went black was a soft whimper, her feeble attempt to mimic his growl.

Astarion let go of her throat and her wrist gently then, softly lowering her to the ground. He removed the heel of his palm from her moist lips, a string of saliva connecting them.

He knew he had to act fast - he guessed he had ten seconds or less before she would regain consciousness, with perhaps another ten before she logged what was going on.

He tore her shirt into a long strip with his teeth, leaving her upper body in nothing but her small clothes, discarding the spare scraps of her shirt beneath her. He dismounted, moving to tie her wrists together above her head, quickly and tightly. Tav convulsed back to consciousness as the blood made its way back to her brain. He then tied the rest of the fabric around the base of a tree that was a foot behind her, fastening her to it.

Tav’s eyes opened slowly as she lay in the dirt, unmoving and silent. Astarion knelt beside her head and swiped her bleeding arm with his finger before inserting it into his mouth. He removed his digit with a pop before placing a gentle hand on her bloody cheek. He slowly caressed her with the backs of his fingers.

He had lately begun to experience a creeping paranoia that she was on to him - he had been spending more time around her. Was she aware of his burgeoning adoration? How he wanted the best for her, and how he hoped that would be him? The feeling gnawed at his cold heart. A lovesick puppy, he chided himself internally, all because she had shared her blood with me.

But no - it was more than that. For once in his life, someone listened to him; made him feel like he mattered. While the other companions were resistant to Astarion’s suggestions, Tav was attentive, thoughtful even.. Even when she didn’t agree, she never hesitated to take his opinion into careful consideration; To make him feel that his thoughts held weight.

Her skin, now spattered black and red with drying blood, felt so soft as he brushed his fingers on her supple cheek with painstaking tenderness. He let the adoration he felt pour through his gaze as her eyes began to flit open.

“Hi, darling.” He smiled.

Her eyes locked with his adulatory stare. “H- hi.”

“It looks like you’ll be taking tact lessons with yours truly. Are you ready for your first lesson?”

Her cheeks began to flush and her skin suddenly felt hotter. He had hoped that his affection would disarm her; and judging by the flush on her cheekbones, he had been right.

Tav scrunched her eyes and wriggled her arms. She realized that her hands were bound.

She spoke softly. “I’m not upset, but why the bindings?”

“Just a precautionary measure,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “I wasn’t sure if you would accept defeat or not, charmingly stubborn as you are.”

Astarion removed his hand from Tav’s face, and he looked her up and down. He noticed that her legs were pressed together and her toes were wiggling.

Tav let out an enormous sigh and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. Her knees came off the ground and her soles pressed to the earth. Her legs swayed anxiously and an endearing smile crept across her lips.

Astarion could sense that Tav had gotten excited. It wasn’t odd to him that the elation of battle sparked a desire within her - he had seen it happen before; often times, particularly after an exceptionally gruesome battle, leaving Tav dripping from head to toe in gore, he had found it difficult to resist propositioning her right then and there. He held back out of respect, but he could see now that she wanted him as he had wanted her, unmistakeably.

“Now what?” Tav asked, her restless limbs tugging and wrestling her bindings futilely.

Astarion traced a line down the side of her ribcage down to her hip, watching her face all the while as her breathing hitched and a small shudder ran through her.

“What would you like, dear? You suddenly seem so needy . . .” he teased.

“Astarion I - you were amazing,” she started, “If we can duel more often, I think - I think I would like that. There are other games we can play to pass the time, too. Like hide-and-seek or, uhm . . . other things?” She bit her lip and her hips gave an adorable wiggle.

So, a hands-on learner who likes to have my hands on her, he thinks to himself. Got it.

“Other things?” he breathed, leaning in closer to her face. He placed an arm on either side of her head and bent his elbows, lowering his lips to brush against her ear. “What did you have in mind?” he whispered in a low voice.

She choked out a sigh. Astarion placed a chaste kiss on her cheek beside her ear. He came to rest on his elbows as he stroked her fringe back with his left hand, caressing her head repeatedly.

Tav gulped before saying, “You could keep touching me if you want. You could touch me all over.”

“Is that what you want, my love?” Astarion removed the hand from her hair and snuck it to her breast under her small clothes. He teased her nipple with his thumb before pinching it sensually. He grasped her mound firmly.

Tav squeaked, and the pace of her breath quickened, adding to the appeal of her flushed cheeks and parted lips.

“Yea,” she moaned with abandon, “please. Touch me, bite me. I need you. I want you - ah -” she groaned as he continued to tease her, her beet-red face twisting in desperation, “inside me - please!”

Astarion growled in her ear. Tav's words went straight to his groin, which was now uncomfortably straining against his pants. Tav looked mortified on top of needy. It must've taken more courage for her to admit what she wanted than it took for her to fight a hoard of goblins solo.

Astarion kissed up Tav's cheek until he found her lips. He kissed her softly before seeking entrance to her mouth with his tongue. She moaned and opened her mouth for him, and he brought her into a fervent kiss.

Their lips remained locked passionately as Astarion snaked his left hand from her breast to her back. His arm hooked around her and he squeezed her tight against his chest. He broke the kiss and Tav whimpered softly. His lips trailed down to her neck, where two puncture marks were healing over from a week ago. He kissed and sucked her flesh in and around the spot where he had bitten before, causing beautiful red welts to decorate her throat.

Astarion used his knee to pry Tav's legs open where he would rest his own pelvis against hers, pressing his hardened length against her core. His right arm came around her back to hold the back of her head tenderly. His lips searched for hers again and he pressed his entire face and body into her, hugging her tightly against him as her legs wrapped around his torso.

Their kiss was bruising, and Astarion groaned noisily into Tav's mouth. He took her lip into his teeth and pierced the flesh shallowly. Tav moaned longingly before Astarion began to suck on her bottom lip with indignation. He brushed his fingers through the hair on the back of her head and grasped it as he had before.

His hips came forward to press firmly against Tav's heat, and a whimper escaped her throat.

Astarion repeatedly rutted into her, her wetness soaking through both her pants and his. She whined indigently at the loss of contact when he pulled away, letting go of her hair and lifting himself from her.

He sat back on his heels and placed a hand on either of her knees before rubbing both hands down her thighs, and up to her waist. She squirmed, and he grabbed her waistband. Her feet pressed into the dirt as she lifted her pelvis cooperatively from the ground to help ease the bottoms off. He took her pants and her underwear off in one motion, exposing her soaking folds to the cool night air.

He pried her trembling knees apart and lowered his face to her cunt. He licked a thick stripe through her folds, hooking his arms under her thighs. Astarion gripped her flesh and pulled himself into her, sucking vehemently on her clit. Tav writhed and cried in his grasp, but he locked her in place as he played with her nub mercilessly. Astarion's wet mouth growled into her cunt as it began to spasm and clench emptily.

Astarion sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm. Tav was flushed and panting, her tits heaving with every breath. Astarion stood up to fully remove his top, and then his pants. His cock sprang free, pre-cum already soaking the tip. He stared down at Tav admiringly and watched her squirm about, pressing her legs together helplessly. She continued to struggle with her fastenings, her wrists beginning to turn as red as her cheeks as she looked up at him with glossy, pleading eyes.

The unfettered heat of her gaze made his chest tighten. It wasn't until then that he had begun to admit that his besetting and ceaseless thoughts towards Tav truly bordered on obsession.

The space he granted her was out of propriety alone, but within him lay a deep and unyielding desire to be with her wholly, body and soul; he wanted to consume her, and to let her consume him. He wanted to welcome her thorns with open arms and bleed out into her. He wanted to bite her until he covered her body so thoroughly in cuts that her blood rendered her supple skin unviewable, behind a shimmering scarlet mask of sacred ambrosia.

He knelt and climbed atop her. His hard cock came to rest between her hot, wet folds as her legs opened and wrapped around him once again. She was squirming eagerly beneath him, arching her back and using the strength of her legs to pull him closer.

He growled at her grinning wickedly, and grabbed her face to roughly pry her mouth open. She relaxed under him and closed her eyes. His tongue invaded her mouth, licking her lips and searching for her tongue. He let go of her face and rested his left elbow beside her head. He used his right hand to fist her hair and planted a violent kiss on her already kiss-swollen lips. Her eyes watered with pleasure as her lashes flickered shut.

She breathed tiny quiet groans into his wanting mouth as he took complete control of her lips. He tugged her head back and to the side, her hair tie falling out, and then aligned himself with her drenched core with his free hand. His teeth grazed her pulse point teasingly. He sunk both his fangs and his cock fully into her at the same time, entirely inside of her as he latched onto her throat.

She cried in pleasure as he devoured her. Her blood coated his tongue and throat while he took generous gulps, his cock twitching and growing inside her with every gulp. Tav could no longer fight back her instinct to writhe, fully expecting to receive Astarion's wrath for not keeping still - but it never came. He simply gripped her hip with his other hand and then pulled almost fully out of her before snapping his hips into her, hard.

Tav let out a needy whine and Astarion groaned in a beastly tenor into her throat. He tore his head away from her, face messy with her blood. Astarion clutched her knees and watched her as he thrust into her at a punishing pace. He slithered his left hand down to her waist and his right hand reached up to apply pressure to her fresh puncture wounds with his fingers. He wrapped his hand around her throat gently as her bleeding slowed, while he rutted into her continuously. Tav’s pussy clenched around him.

He pulled his blood-soaked hand off of her throat and stuck a bloody finger into her mouth. She obliged and sucked on his digit obediently. His cock twitched, and he pulled his finger out of her with a pop. He hooked one of her legs over his shoulder and then leaned down into her to kiss her hungrily.

Astarion tasted her blood in her mouth, and the feeling that it gave him engulfed him. He ran his hand down her body with his nails, gently scraping her skin in his wake. He reached for her clit and started rubbing it mercilessly with his fingers. She was sopping wet, and the sound of their bodies echoed through the woods.

Tav's cunt clenched, seeming to pull Astarion into her further. She groaned needily into his violent mouth before their lips came apart. Tav's face, still an abstract painting of the spattering of her own life fluid, bunched itself in pleasure as she bore into his eyes. Shamelessly, he licked a stripe on her face, lapping the combined saliva and blood.

"Hmm,” Tav hummed delightedly, a smile spreading across her face. “You're - so good - to me, Astarion," she barely managed through her shallow panting breaths. He gazed at her devotedly. His undead heart skipped a beat at her words, and he felt a fluttering feeling in his stomach; but it was coloured with an undertone of conflict. In an existence defined for centuries by the imperative for safety and solitude, the yearning and aching feelings he had for Tav were unlike anything he had ever felt; They could neither be rationalized nor ignored - they ate at him naggingly and incessantly. Something about their coupling felt alien, as if it was something not of this world. He felt an overwhelming need to merge with her, to pass through her body as if they were one and the same.

He couldn't speak, he couldn't find the words - all he could do was growl from his stomach and slam into her faster and faster, smashing his body into hers. His thoughts and feelings overcame him, and his instincts took over. He continued rubbing her clit clumsily, and her cunt fluttered around his large member, milking him and crying in pleasure.

He lost himself in her. She was everything. Astarion unhooked his arm from her leg and removed his hand from her swollen bud. He wrapped both arms fully around her torso and slammed into her aggressively. He held her crushingly once again and nudged her chin up and to the side with his head. Astarion sunk his teeth into the untouched side of her neck, drinking greedily once more. Wet slapping sounds and feral groans filled the air.

Her blood flowed into him as if it were crimson ivy, channelling pathways through the ruined stone of a long-forgotten temple, latching onto every crevasse and crumbling the structure in its wake.

Astarion stiffly snapped his hips into her one last time, reaching into her deeper than ever before as he came. He unlatched his teeth and then licked Tav's throat. A small whimper escaped her. Astarion moved inside of her, pressing his cum into her hole with his cock and then slowly pulling out. He unlatched a hand from her torso to grab his member and place it between her folds to rub on her clit. She twitched and whined at the feeling.

He unhooked his other arm from her torso and simply sandwiched his hand between her ribcage and the ground. When he saw her face, her lips were pale and she wasn't able to hold her head up.

"Shit."

Finally able to think straight, he looked down with horror at the scene - he had gotten so carried away that he’d left her drained almost entirely. Her pulse was slowing, and he surely only had a matter of minutes before it stopped completely.

In a frenzy, he ripped her bindings free with his teeth, leaving them to dangle like a bracelet off her wrist. He pulled his own shirt over her head, putting on his pants in such a hurry that he neglected to put his shoes back on at all.

He scooped Tav up bridal style, rushing back to camp, directly to Shadowheart’s tent, lest he spend the few extra moments rummaging for a scroll only to look down and find her dead on arrival. The situation was dire.

"Pst!,” he rushed, standing outside the cleric’s tent. “Shadowheart, it's Astarion - I need your help, it's - it’s an emergency!" His voice trembled as he spoke.

Shadowheart groaned as she opened her tent flap. Astarion crawled into her tent with Tav in his arms while Shadowheart yawned and rubbed her eyes. She sat cross-legged across from Astarion. It took a moment for her eyes to focus, and to realize what lay in front of her.

Astarion sat on his heels, mouth still messily covered in blood - Shirtless, covered in dirt, sweat, and utterly damning evidence.

Tav lay completely limp in his arms, face and neck equally bloodied. Her throat was adorned with multitudinous hickies, and her lips were pale. Tav wore a piece of fabric around her wrist that dangled downwards about 6 inches, and her other wrist had a friction burn all around it as well as a bite covered with crusty blood. And, most ruinously, she wore nothing aside from the apologetic afterthought of Astarion’s shirt to hide her modesty.

It hadn't occurred to Astarion how bad this looked on him until now. Still, it was more important that Tav get the help she needed.

"Gods! What have you done to her, Astarion!?" Shadowheart raised her voice.

"Shh, we don't need everyone in camp bringing pitchforks to your tent right now - just please help Tav. I can explain," he said sincerely. His brows pinched up in a frown as he hung his head, mortified.

"Alright, but you’d better have a good excuse,” Shadowheart scolded. “I swear - if she wakes and tells me that your abuse was unwelcome, I will not hesitate to incinerate you."

"Ignis" a small flame appeared on her finger and she lit 2 candles in her tent.

She channelled bright blue energy into her body. The tent glowed cobalt and a sound similar to wind chimes filled the air. Shadowheart closed her eyes and raised one hand to face herself before chanting her incantation.

"Te absolvo."

The blue light encased Tav and her body twitched. The light faded and the colour slowly started coming back to her face.

Astarion let out a sigh of relief and he pulled Tav tightly into his arms, giving her a desperate hug. He rocked her back and forth in his arms and closed his eyes when he placed his chin over her shoulder and snuggled it into her.

Tav came to slowly and began to hug him back, squeezing him weakly and nudging her head towards his.

"Ahem," Shadowheart cleared her throat, "I hate to break up your reunion after Astarion nearly murdered you, but I do feel as if I am owed an explanation."

Astarion placed a firm kiss on Tav's head and he lowered her down. He held her under her armpits like a doll while he moved his legs to sit cross-legged, using his free arm to maintain balance. He then sat Tav upon his lap, facing Shadowheart.

Tav yawned, rubbed her eyes, and lolled her head back to his shoulder with closed eyes.

Astarion had hooked his arm around her waist to hold her steady. He hesitantly began to explain.

"Well, we decided to duel - for innocent fun - and got a bit carried away. Are you satisfied?"

"It seems as though you were the one that got carried away, Astarion. I don't see any bindings around your wrists. And where are her . . . garments? Actually, never mind; I don’t think I want to know." Shadowheart frowned deeply. "But Tav is riddled with bites, blood, and hickies. Gods, Astarion! If it wasn’t for her looking so comfortable with you, I would have killed you already."

"You could try, but I'll have you know I don't die easily these days," he said, screwing his face up defensively.

Tav winced. "Stop fighting, please." She clenched her right fist, grimacing as the wound left by the bite mark twinged. She looked up at Shadowheart. "Astarion and I made love. He tied me up because he thought I was going to be a sore loser after he won our fight, and then we made love on the forest floor."

The tent was blanketed in an awkward silence.

"Oh, don't tell me you've never been tied up and fucked before, Shadowheart. I know how Sharrans are."

Shadowheart's mouth fell agape and she paused. Her brows knitted together in a downwards cant.

"Just go."

Tav and Astarion shared a glance. They nodded at one another and then got up to exit Shadowheart's tent. Astarion offered Tav a hand and she obliged. She stumbled out of the tent like a newborn doe.

Tav offered him her wrist with the tie on it. “Help, please.” She smiled.

“Oh - yes.” He took her wrist gently and then expertly untied the knot before dropping the fabric on the ground.

‘Made love.’ Astarion reflected on Tav’s words. An electric feeling spread across his body and Tav’s blood rushed to his face. He suddenly found himself unable to breathe, not that he needed to anyway. He stood eerily still while zoning out into the embers of the snuffed fire pit. The full moon’s light wrapped around them like a veil.

“Astarion.” Tav grabbed his hand gently and stood between him and the embers. “Shall we go bathe in the river?” She smiled, searching for his eyes.

He paused and his mouth fell agape, and his brows angled downwards. He gazed back up at her before painting a disingenuous smile on his lips.

“Yes, of course.” He squeezed her hand.

“Come on.” Tav cheered as she led him towards the river.

‘Made love.’ The word replayed in his head over and over. ‘Is that,- is this what love is?’ The thoughts overwhelmed him. ‘Does she love me? Do I love her?’

He walked behind Tav with his head to the ground all the way to the riverside. When they had finally reached the water, he looked up to see the dark silhouette of Tav in front of the slow-moving water where the moonlight danced.

Tav lifted his shirt off of herself and plopped it on the large rock beside her, facing the water while taking a deep breath of the cool night air, her shoulders rising and falling. She stepped forward to dip her toes in the water, and then she slowly walked until she was waist-deep before looking back to Astarion who was standing there, watching her.

Astarion briefly witnessed Tav’s back, which was adorned with some sort of abstract pattern, not much unlike Astarion’s. He couldn’t quite make out if it was a tattoo pertaining to her heritage, or perhaps a birthmark. Tav’s hair dropped onto her back, covering most of it.

Astarions stomach tied a knot, and his heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his chest. His eyes were round and his lips were slightly parted. He felt frozen, like a deer in the headlights.

“The water is surprisingly warm compared to usual. Maybe it’s just because I’m so cold,” she giggled. She made a few more steps into the water and then submerged her wrists, causing her to wince in pain once more.

Astarion blinked himself back into the present when he heard her inhaling sharply through her teeth. He rushed his bottoms off and then hastily strode to catch up to her in the water, trailing white bubbles behind him.

“We should get you some healing potions after we’re done here.” He came up to rest a hand on her shoulder.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t want it,” she retorted.

This again. Tav’s ludicrous notion that pain would bring her peace, and somehow rest her mind. But Astarion knew pain; and he knew that wasn’t right.

“Tav,” he murmured, tilting his head to her and placing a tender hand on her cheek. “Please - let me help you.”

Tav simply frowned and looked away. She turned and plunged into the river, leaving Astarion with his hand in the air.

She disappeared under the water, but Astarion could hear her heart beating. He grinned and then sunk into the water slowly. He swam towards the sound of her thumping pulse, holding his unnecessary breath. He opened his eyes underwater and Tav swam to where her toes could barely touch the rocks at the bottom before she came up for a gasp of air.

She scrubbed the blood off of her face with her hands and then ran her fingers through her soaking hair.

Astarion sunk as low as possible in the water with empty lungs, swimming towards Tav. In one quick motion, he gained purchase on her ankle and pulled her below the surface.

He pulled her body under him with his tricep and grasped at her waist, forcing her lower. The water bubbled violently around her, obscuring her vision.

Astarion positioned them so they were upright underwater and facing one another. It was then that he pulled her in for a closed-mouth smooch, to which she reciprocated.

He swam them up to the surface and Tav gasped for air. They both grinned widely, and Tav’s brows raised.

“You little shit!” She splashed him in the face and he scrunched his features in response.

“It’s not my fault you’re such easy prey,” Astarion smirked, tilting his head down at her.

“You’re too fun. It’s becoming surprisingly harder for me to keep my guard up around you,” she stated.

Astarion blinked at her for a moment. Is that what this feeling is?

Her eyes closed and her face softened as she leaned in for a kiss. Their lips locked and they kissed slowly; strikingly different from their coupling in the forest, this was nice - comforting and peaceful.

Tav brought her legs up to straddle Astarion under the water. He held her with one hand on her bum and the other on the small of her back. Their embrace was languid and passionate.

When the kiss broke, their foreheads leaned on one another’s. Astarion closed his eyes. Within him was a burning chapel, crumbling to ash and set ablaze by the very person in his arms. He couldn’t speak even if he tried.

Tav placed her hand on his cheek, snaking it below his ear and rubbing her thumb on his cheekbone affectionately. They breathed in each other as they held one another in blissful silence.

Astarion felt his eyes begin to water, unbidden. He could feel Tav’s eyes on him, so he quickly dipped his head to her shoulder.

There was nothing about this that felt wrong - everything about this felt right, but within that there was discomfort. Astarion wanted to drown himself in his tears. Perhaps, he thought, this is what Tav feels when she seeks peace in her own pain.

Astarion couldn’t help but choke out a sob into Tav’s shoulder. She replied by squeezing him so tight that it pushed the air out of his lungs. She didn’t demand an explanation; she didn’t reject him; she simply held him, and held space for him.

The space between them was inconceivable. They couldn’t feel where one of them began and the other ended. Their bodies alloyed together like copper and iron.

Astarion wept into Tav, and Tav enveloped Astarion.

“Shh, you’re okay. I’m here.” Tav cooed, caressing the back of Astarion’s head. “I’m here.”

Astarion sighed and pulled his head back from Tav. He looked at her with a deep frown. She brought her thumb up and wiped his tears away.

“Hey,” she exclaimed, “you’re always safe to be like this around me. I hope you know that.”

Astarion paused, looking up at Tav with round eyes.

Tav started, “I - I’m not the best at this. I’m sorry. Just anytime you want to talk, or if you just want someone to be with you. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Astarion felt the cool, shallow waves wash over him. “I want to be the same for you.” He looked down, his brows canted upwards desperately. “I - I don’t know what this means, and I don’t understand what I’m feeling, but I do know that I want you by my side,” he said as his gaze shifted upwards to meet hers.

Tav smiled. “I want to be by your side as well.”

The water trickled through the canal and chimed on the shoreline. The light of the moon glistened on the water peaks. And there was Tav. Someone to rely on, perhaps even someone to trust.

“We should wash up, there’s still a bit of blood on your face.” Tav scrunched her brows and brought a wet hand to swipe the last bits of blood off of Astarion’s lips.

Astarion nodded in agreement and he splashed water onto the sides of Tav’s neck. Her flesh had been ravished, she adorned a necklace of purple and red bruises.

“You must drink a healing potion,” Astarion spoke softly.

“Astarion, I’ll be okay. I’ll explain to the others like I explained to Shadowheart, and everything will be fine.”

Astarion laughed in her face. “Firstly, I doubt they will take it as well as Shadowheart did, and that’s saying something. Secondly, it’s not about the other’s, darling, it’s about you. You must heal.”

“I’m sure I’ll feel better by tomorrow,” she said, downturning her lips.

“Is that what you want? To feel better?” Astarion spoke gently. “A health potion would make you feel better. You’re not fooling me, dear.”

“Well I just don’t want to waste supplies - and I can handle pain better than everyone in camp, I’m sure.” She gleamed, glazing herself up.

His face screwed up, “You are not a waste!” he growled at her. “I will not be speaking on this any further. Come, let’s go.”

She huffed in defeat as he carried her in his arms back to shore.

Her feet planted on the ground and she squeezed the water out of her hair. Astarion did the same by brushing his hair back with his fingers and shaking the water droplets off of his hand. He grabbed his pants and Tav threw his shirt over her head.

They held hands as they made their way back to Tav’s tent so that she could first grab her blankets and pillows before heading to Astarion’s tent for the night.

Tav led the way to Astarion’s tent. When they arrived, Astarion started organizing their things.

“Ignis.” he chanted, lighting a couple of candles with a small flame on his finger.

They worked together to carefully lay the blankets out, and Astarion searched his pack for a spare set of night clothes and a towel or two for him and Tav to share. He felt around his pack, hearing the clinking of bottles. Astarion pulled bottles out of his bag, examining each one before putting them back, until he found a red bottle with a cork enclosure. He set it aside and pulled his night clothes and towels from his bag.

Astarion handed a towel to Tav and she patted her hair dry with it. Astarion followed and ran his towel down his legs and over his shoulders before changing into his camp clothes. He then continued tidying up his pack as he sat on his heels.

“Your scars,” Tav started, “Do they mean something?”

Astarion turned his head from his pack to face Tav and he cringed.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.” Tav hung her head in shame.

Astarion took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s alright, your concern for me is adorable. In due time, my sweet. Tonight, I am more concerned about you.”

Astarion fisted a health potion and turned around completely to face Tav.

“You must drink this,” he ordered, shifting towards her and handing her the bottle.

Tav shimmied uncomfortably and sat with straight legs atop their blankets. “I told you already that I don’t need it.” Her face scrunched in annoyance.

“Fine,” he said. “If you want to make things difficult, then so be it.”

Tav watched with intrigue as Astarion uncorked the bottle and then poured half of it into his mouth. He set the bottle down and crawled over to her. The heels of her hands moved from her lap to press into the ground behind her as Astarion proceeded to mount her. Tav’s face and ears turned a deep shade of crimson and she stared up at Astarion as his face hovered above hers.

Astarion wrapped his arm around her torso, locking her arms to her ribcage. With his free hand, he grabbed Tav’s cheeks and pressed on her mandible with his fingers and thumb to pry her maw open. Tav’s eyes were wide as she watched him come closer.

Tav’s lip came apart and Astarion connected his mouth with her’s. The warm healing liquid poured from his mouth into hers. Tav closed her eyes and accepted her fate as she started swallowing the sweet liquid. Astarion could hear her heart racing - Gods, she was perfect.

He loosened his grip and started rubbing large, soothing circles on her back. Her lips were so warm and wet, that Astarion found it challenging to let go, but he did. Their noses folded against one another and their foreheads pressed together. Astarion tilted her head with a knuckle and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

Astarion pulled away. “Good girl. Now will you finish the bottle or am I going to have to be creative again?” He smirked.

Tav squirmed under him and her nipples hardened visibly through the shirt that she was wearing.

Astarion reached back to grasp the bottle. “Open,” he commanded.

Tav’s eyelids were heavy with lust. She obeyed. She tilted her head back, and softly stuck out her tongue.

“That’s it,” he praised.

He started to slowly pour the liquid into her mouth. “Good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

Tav suddenly closed her mouth and swallowed. Astarion accidentally spilled some potion on her face and chest. His pants began to tighten.

Her eyes were wet and her chest was heaving. Her wounds looked almost entirely healed, other than some red dry skin where the puncture marks used to be.

Astarion mindlessly nudged the neckline of her shirt with a finger and it fell off of one shoulder, exposing the curve of her breast. He hastily placed the bottle down and leaned over to lick the spilled potion off of her chest. He grasped her ribcage with his left hand, and the back of her head with his right. He then licked up her neck to her face and mouth, making sure to clean all the leftover potion from her skin.

Tav’s mouth flew open and Astarion pulled her into a smouldering kiss. He lifted himself without breaking the kiss so that he could reposition himself between her legs before having her lie back on the pillow behind her. He reached his right arm down to her exposed heat and he searched through her folds with needy digits. She was remarkably wet.

Tav moaned deeply and bucked her hips forward, searching for more, but Astarion simply teased her folds with his fingers.

He broke the kiss and caressed her damp hair with his left hand. Tav’s lips were kiss-swollen and her skin glistened in the candlelight.

Astarion pulled back from her and grabbed the potion once again. This time, without having to ask, Tav opened her mouth as she did before. He poured the rest of the potion into her mouth and she swallowed eagerly. Astarion placed the empty bottle on the side of the bedrolls.

Tav’s legs were spread wide and her feet dangled in the air. She sat back on her elbows as she stared at Astarion with parted lips and knitted brows.

Astarion rewarded her by plunging two fingers inside her wanting hole. Tav’s mouth opened in a sensual “O,” her wet eyes and wet cunt both fluttering as she began grinding into Astarion’s hand.

Astarion groaned and then pulled his fingers out, leaving Tav empty and whining. He lifted his shirt over his head and threw it to the side. Astarion stood up and pulled his pants down. He threw his pants where his shirt had been thrown, and then he kneeled to Tav. His cock was already wet with precum dripping from the tip.

Tav reached down to play with her clit. She was rubbing firm circles on herself and she threw her head back. Astarion felt heat pooling in his lower abdomen at the sight of Tav. He threw his head back as well and then placed the head of his cock at the entrance of her hole. He stroked himself as his tip teased her folds.

Astarion groaned and grabbed the back of Tav’s thigh with his left hand. He stuck the whole of his tip into her and continued pleasuring himself. He looked down to where their bodies connected and his girth grew incredibly hard.

Tav was panting and Astarion was covered in sweat. Tav arched her hips into Astarion and captured his full length inside of her in one quick movement.

Astarion let out a deep sigh and he let go of his shaft. He reached to her clit and nudged her hand away before beginning to stroke her clit persistently.

Tav contorted and whined but Astarion did not stop playing with her. Her cunt clenched around him and her breath sped up to a dangerous pace.

“Astarion - I’m cumming!” She screamed, her body tensing like a longbow.

Tav’s cunt contracted around Astarion and he growled at the feeling, her pussy milking him. Her body went limp on the bedroll and her hole gushed spend down his shaft.

He reached for a pillow and placed it under her bum, The new angle allowing him to reach deeper than before.

Astarion glanced down and spat on Tav’s swollen bud. He pulled out and ran his cock along her saliva-covered clit, causing her to whine desperately before thrusting back inside her fully.

Tav hummed and wiggled her hips. Her body had completely relaxed.

Astarion began to thrust into her at an invariable pace. His grasp on her hips was tight, making indentations in her flesh. Lewd wet sounds echoed through the camp.

He stuffed her so deeply that his tip hugged her cervix with every snap of his hips. He used his grasp on her hips to cinch her onto his length, Tav’s tits bounced under her shirt at each pump. Her face was contorted in pleasure and her breath picked up again.

She lay like a precious doll, letting him fuck her hole to his heart’s content. Their juices seeped out the sides of his penetrating cock. The sight pulled Astarion deeper into his fuck drunken stupor.

Astarion's pace quickened and he fucked Tav hard, slamming into her punishingly.

A raging coil built within him. His hips faltered and then snapped into her, sheathing himself to the hilt. His breath stuttered as pleasure erupted from his chest and reverberated throughout his body. Thick, hot ropes of spend shot into Tav, coating her plush walls. He groaned needily and came forward, hanging his head. His whole body was moist with sweat. He stayed connected with Tav as he leaned into her, hovering over her on his elbows.

Tav’s cheeks were rosy. ‘The picture of health,’ Astarion thought. The pair took a moment to deeply gaze into one another’s eyes, searching, panting. Within Tav’s iris lay the storms of Saturn, violently rippling. Destruction and rebirth in every fleeting moment. On the surface, he saw nothing. There was no reflection gazing back at him, only the hypnotizing depths of her pupils which bloomed like chrysanthemums.

He wished he could see what she saw. He wanted to understand why she wanted him. After Cazador, he felt like an empty shell. Could one love a being so hollow? Love. Astarion didn’t know love. He had read about it in books, and had his victims sob to him drunkenly about husbands or wives. Love sounded painful and finite. Love sounded like a pool of crimson to drown in until your lungs fill as you inevitably succumb to your folly. The way he had seen it described was as if love were in every being, or that the universe itself were made of love.

‘Does Bhaal love his children? Did Cazador love his spawn? Am I loved? Am I capable of love?’

Another wave of overwhelming vibrations surged through his body. These thoughts made his stomach knot and his shoulders stiffen.

He rested his head on the pillow beside Tav as he completely collapsed on her, sighing on his decline. He fully embraced Tav in his arms, and she weakly hugged him back, running her hands gently along his mountainous scars.

The intimacy made him feel so whole, but so pathetic. He wanted to look into Tav’s soul without crumbling, as she did his. In times like these, he didn’t know when she could be ripped from him. It felt as if at any moment, she could decide she didn’t want to be around a snivelling mess like him anymore, and decide to up and leave him in the woods for the Gur to find.

She could choose Gale, or Shadowheart, or anyone else, and he couldn’t stop her. She had him in the palm of her hand and could destroy him, but for now, she chose to cherish him. Him - the hollow and hungry vampire who simultaneously knew only what it meant to give and what it meant to take; a transaction. That’s what he’d been for two hundred years, leaving a paper trail of victims in his wake. Forced to be a monster, and to do the bidding of an even more sinister monster.

There was a light, a single star. One final glimmer of hope. The tadpoles. The thing that granted him the ability to walk in the sun, to defy Cazador, and the thing that led him to Tav in the first place.

Tav, who was slowly drifting to sleep beneath him. Her breathing was restful and her arms held him softly.

Astarion pulled out of Tav and grabbed one of their towels from earlier. They were still damp and had to be hung outside, but he used it to clean Tav’s weeping core. She rested peacefully with open legs as he gently wiped their combined spend from her supple skin. Tav hummed happily.

He took the same towel and wiped himself thoroughly. He stalked outside of his tent and hung the towel on a line beside his other garments. He returned to the tent and Tav had rolled to her side and was looking at him. One of her hands was between her thighs for warmth, and the other was under her pillow. Her eyes were sleepy and wet.

Tav yawned and then patted the spot on the bed beside her, inviting Astarion to join her in respite.

“Let’s get you under the blankets, darling.” He frowned.

Tav sat up near her pillow, and then pulled the covers over herself, air bubbled under the sheets as they settled around her form. Astarion climbed in next to her and used a silver snuffer to snuff the candles out. Tav laid to face the back of his tent, and her back faced him.

Astarion shuffled in beside her, gazing at her back. Recalling what he’d seen down by the river, he noticed a collection of large scars that ran from either shoulder and crisscrossed in the centre. He tenderly ran his fingers down the scars, and Tav didn’t budge. They felt larger and more raised than his. These were no battle scars. Somebody had done this to her.

Red rage filled his mind. Her situation was worse than he thought. Pain was a tool for her, and a tool that was used on her, many times. To make her docile? To punish her? To bring others peace?

He wondered if the reason for the scars was the same reason why Tav felt comfort in her pain. Perhaps it was something used against her so frequently that it left a void when it was taken away. A void like the one within him.

Astarion wanted answers to his questions, he wanted to know who hurt her, and he wanted to make them pay.

But for now, she rests, and Astarion will embrace her until the sun gleams over the horizon.

‘I want to be your peace.’

___________

Notes: Oof, that was a doozy. I did get very carried away with this one. Now I know why other writers say that on here LOL. I know it seems like I've set this up to have more chapters, but I don't think I am ready to create muti-chaptered works yet. Also, I hate goodbyes and endings so I will just edge everyone for now. LOVE YOU! SMOOCHIES!

#astarion smut #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #astarion x original female character #astarion x reader #bg3 #astarion x female tav

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honeydippedwaffles · 8 months

Text

Smallest Drop - Part 3

Summary: Tav knew she was falling for him in some ways but she didn't realise just how bad it had become until she got shot in the leg while killing a vampire hunter for him.

Meanwhile, Astarion really doesn't understand Tav and her strange solutions to problems and ignoring it really isn't working well.

I've already planned a part 4 because I'm addicted. Tav is not mentioned by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 3k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Though she tried her utmost to appreciate every environment they explored (if only because she would otherwise go crazy), she couldn’t find much she liked about the swamp. Not even with its sweetened flowers, warm sunlight, and strange sheep.

She was almost a thousand percent sure those were polymorphed humans but she refused to worry about them yet. Whatever had created them surely would reveal itself and for now, she focused on the bigger problem before her.

A monster hunter standing before her with a friendly smile on his face and a laugh echoing across the swamp as though he hadn’t threated one of her companions.

He may not know what he’d done but it put her on edge regardless.

She made sure not to look at Astarion, a subliminal concern in her. She refused to give too much attention in case it drew his gaze over to those glinting red eyes or faded but very obvious scars nestled against pale skin.

Instead, she stepped forward and demanded all the attention she could with a loud voice and a smile. “Sounds awfully boring,” she said. “To hunt one creature for so long and not make any progress. Hardly even a challenge or thrill to just slowly camp somewhere and wait.”

The hunter chuckled and she seethed. “The first thing you learn in my line of work is never underestimate your opponent. This spawn has been eluding me for quite some time.”

She tried to keep her expression neutral but struggled. Even in her best moods, she couldn’t hide what she thought and the anxiety in her chest was stronger than ever. Maybe he would think the worry in her face showcased a fear of the creature rather than of him.

“Only a spawn?” she asked. “Pity. Not like it’s a real vampire. There’s little glory to be had in such a hunt.”

He frowned at the accusation in her tone and raised an eyebrow, perhaps confused by the hostility in her voice.

Before he could answer though, Astarion drawled, “I don’t know. I’m sure a vampire spawn could still rip your throat out if he felt like it.”

She couldn’t help a slight smile. Though perhaps not happy, he didn’t sound nervous which meant they fight should be easy. Lae’zel, bored as she was, never complained about further bloodshed and undoubtedly this hunter had no experience facing a gith sword.

Her own bloodthirstiness surprised her. Rarely did she feel the desire to spill blood quite as intensely as she did now and no guilt followed. This man dared to threaten somebody she cared for and she immediately moved to murder.

She really needed to be careful of the strange hold Astarion had on her.

“He is right, unfortunately. They’re only weak when compared to their masters. During the day we have the advantage but when night falls, you will not find a more dangerous quarry.”

She pretended to wince. “Awful for somebody like you to hunt something so fierce when you appear barely able to fight one of these sheep. Should I not worry about one of these spawn creeping up on you when you least expect it?”

The hunter appeared thoroughly offended and Lae’zel snorted in what she had started to learn may be a laugh.

“Well, we’ve stayed alive so far so perhaps we can focus on that.” Astarion reminded her of a cat playing with a mouse. But the cat also hovered far away from the potential battle, uncertain.

“It’ll be safer for you to keep patrols at night,” the hunter warned. “Just in case it tries anything.”

“I don’t think I will.”

He tried to be friendly and helpful but now he simply frowned. She almost felt bad for turning rude and abrasive, noticed how her response made him a little more uncomfortable but not enough to reach for a weapon. Her hand however drifted closer to her blade.

Morals said she should provide him a false lead and send him on a wild chase far away from her party.

Her brain said he may be a threat. If he doubled back or found out about her deception, he could sneak into their camp and take Astarion before she noticed.

And her heart told her if she let him go, Astarion wouldn’t relax again. He may not even stay in the area if he thought the hunter lurked nearby – too jumpy and flighty to stick around their group.

Her morals would need to keep quiet until she dealt with this.

“Maybe we should take him up on his recommendation,” Astarion suggested. “Or deal with this threat now.”

“Take him out before he hurts anybody,” she said and it was an agreement.

The hunter waved his hands quickly. “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend hunting a vampire spawn if you have no experience. You may be a strong fighter but I doubt you’d be able to challenge one.”

“I wasn’t speaking about Astarion,” she said. “If he wanted me dead, he’s had ample opportunities so far.”

Astarion hummed, almost chuckling. “You’re not wrong. It’s lucky that you’ve proven yourself far more useful alive.”

The hunter’s gaze slowly drifted between her and Astarion and her grip tightened on her blade. “That’s impossible,” he said as he reached for his crossbow. “There’s no way you’re –“

She stepped forward and slipped the blade free. Steel sunk deep into flesh and he choked out a garbled, surprised sound as his throat split open. Disgusting.

Blood sprouted from his neck and down his chest as he fell backwards, eyes wide with shock. But she had been too confident and she didn’t notice how he’d managed to get his crossbow out; how he pulled the trigger even as the last of the dark red pulsed from his throat.

The bolt stabbed directly through her thigh. It drove straight through the leather and pierced the flesh beneath even as the others drew their weapons to assist in a battle she’d already won.

She collapsed to one knee as his body thumped against the ground with a few ragged gasps. This was scarcely her first time being shot by a crossbow bolt but something must have coated the weapon. Poison or enchantment, she didn’t know but the pain and the weakness spread fast through her body and her blade fell onto the soft grass below.

“Are you alright?” Wyll arrived at her side first, concerned.

“I’m fine,” she reassured him through gritted teeth. “He’s dead right?”

“From what I could see,” Astarion said with a dramatic sigh. “Well, that’s a pity. I wanted to kill him myself.”

She ignored him and put a bit of pressure on the site of the injury. Her muscles burned fiercely as she decided to leave the bolt in for now. Rather not pull it out when she didn’t know what clung to it.

She slowly stood and blood pulsed down her leg in thick rivers. It slicked the area between her armour and left awful, sticky trails.

No visiting the strange old woman it would appear. She refused to explore a swamp when her leg felt like this.

She stepped forward and hissed in pain, just about collapsing once more if it hadn’t been for Wyll’s support on her back. Definitely something strange about this one.

“We do have spare health potions,” he said as he looked at the bolt. “But this has some magic on it. We should get back to the camp to make sure it isn’t going to deal any long-term damage.”

“I like that idea,” she admitted with a strained and uncomfortable laugh. “It’s a little sore.”

Over the past few days, she’d had many close calls with many weapons but this wooziness… she hated it. The air around her swam as she limped her way along the ridiculously long road back to their camp, reassuring her companions with soft words which held no purchase. Even they could see the way the energy drained from her body with each step.

She accepted only the occasional of assistance from Wyll and tried to make it appear as though the injury didn’t bother her.

Honestly, it had been her fault entirely. She should have noticed the crossbow and been more aware of when he pulled it free. Anger clouded her vision then and still did as they walked back.

The audacity of such a man who dared to threaten her friends… he agitated her even now when he lay on the floor, destined to be anything more than food for the various animals in the area.

Astarion didn’t return her occasional glances nor did he offer help.

She hoped he hadn’t become upset at her actions. Though he may have wanted to kill the hunter himself, she had seen an opportunity and taken it before anybody got hurt.

Well, aside from her.

The enchantment on the bold got removed swiftly but her body needed time to recover and the evening passed uncomfortably. Every muscle burned and her breaths came in soft, quick succession. She tried to keep her complaints quiet and not bother any companions. She had the antidote; she had a bandage. Now all she had to do was wait.

And wait.

The night’s hours stretched long as she lay in her tent. She prayed for sleep to find her but the ache in her bones and the burning pain refused to allow her an opportunity forward.

The footsteps distracted her from her twisting and turning. For somebody so akin to sneaking around, Astarion had stopped doing it after he’d given her a heart attack and she ended up headbutting him. He’d complained non-stop over it for at least an hour but now he didn’t sneak around anymore.

He stepped through the entrance of her tent, his hair haloed in moonlight. The night suited him as well as the day did. He looked practically ethereal as he drifted into her tent, every bit the predator she’d been warned about.

“Well, don’t you look like an absolute mess.”

She rolled her eyes and tilted her head away from him. “And it’s all because of you.”

“Me? It’s hardly my fault the man had a poisoned crossbow. You could have dodged it, you know. I’ve seen you twist your way out of worse hits than that.”

Almost always because of luck but she wouldn’t tell him as much. Instead, she offered him a small smile and tried to stop the tremble in her limbs. At least the pain felt lighter than before.

“Aren’t you meant to be cured or whatever by now?” he asked.

“Shadowheart said it’ll heal up by the morning at latest. I just have to last until then.” Exhausted of lying down, she pulled herself up into a sitting position, leaning against her travelling chest with her legs stretched out. “I’m surprised you came to visit. Are you worried?”

He put his hand to his heart and smiled. “You wound me. Of course, I’m worried. It’s not every day I find somebody dedicated enough to slice a man’s throat in my name.”

“The others would have done the same to keep you safe.”

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t trust any of them with catching a spider.”

She laughed. Though he complained, they were growing on him and she didn’t even need to prompt him to join their impromptu gatherings anymore.

“They like you.”

He ignored her comment and instead spoke of something else. “I believe my old master sent the hunter. He wants me back under his thumb, as I expected. This won’t be the only person he sends and not all will go down so easily.”

“I won’t get distracted next time then,” she laughed.

“Distracted?”

She gestured at him, knowing better than to voice the protectiveness for what it was. She didn’t understand it much either. “I’ve always told you how pretty you are. Now look what those sharp eyes have done. I couldn’t stop looking at them.”

She could play his game too. Offer him compliments and flattery instead of truth when he felt vulnerable.

“You can’t distract me with compliments,” he scoffed.

“Oh, I absolutely can.”

If she had the energy to do so, she would have continued but the wound pulsed in pain and she turned her attention to it, pressing against the soft skin to try and make it stop. The red bandage twisted her stomach into knots but it had stopped bleeding after a while.

Astarion appeared close to her unexpectedly, close enough to kiss with the smallest smirk on his face.

“You must try to stop yourself from getting hurt like this,” he said, trailing the faintest brush over her thigh. “It’s a waste of perfectly good blood. I almost couldn’t contain myself when I saw it running over your skin.”

She tried to laugh but it came out more exhausted than anything. “I’ll try but I make you no promises. My blood isn’t only yours.”

“Not yet. Perhaps the next time you give me the opportunity, I’ll drain it all so you can’t waste it.”

She tilted her head to the side to bear her throat, an exhausted but teasing smile in place. “I did say you could feed off me this morning, right? You’re welcome to take a bite now if you’re hungry.”

He appeared to not be able to tell if she joked or not. She smiled to tell him she was. Even if she had the blood to spare right now (and honestly, she didn’t), she doubted Astarion planned on feeding from her when he already felt as though he owed her some strange debt.

She’d noticed that about him. He only propositioned her when he felt as though he had to give her something in exchange.

It made her concerned.

He scoffed. “You couldn’t pay me enough. I can smell that rancid poison in your veins and it’s awful.”

She groaned and rolled her head back. “I hate this. It’s worse than that stupid apple I ate when we first entered the swamp and just as awful as when the goblin managed to sink its axe into my arm the other day. I thought I caught something from that at least.”

He chuckled. “Well, whatever magic was, it was likely intended for me so it probably won’t kill you.”

“If it’s going to kill me, I’d like it to get it over with. This pain is horrific.”

She expected him to leave soon but she took the opportunity to tap the spot beside her, asking him to sit down. What better company could she ask for? Elves didn’t sleep and despite pretending, Astarion certainly never allowed himself to meditate for very long at all.

“You’re very demanding, aren’t you?” Regardless, he took a seat and they lapsed into silence, punctuated only by her soft and somewhat shaky breaths.

She wanted to ask about the hunter. Wanted to know more about his old master and why he would be so desperate to claim a spawn back. Vampires could create as many spawn as they wanted to and he didn’t need to keep one at all times. It felt like a great deal of energy.

But as the silence stretched out, only one really bothered her enough to make her speak.

“Are you alright?”

“Obviously,” he laughed. “I’m not the one who got shot, was I?”

“No but I wouldn’t want to know a hunter is after me. I don’t want you to feel like you’re unsafe here.”

His smile turned bitter and unhappy as he answered that, his mouth twisted into a scowl. “Safe? Nowhere’s going to be safe as long as Cazador remains alive. The reach of a vampire lord goes far beyond what you may think.”

She may be a little light-headed for a proper conversation but she kept conscious, if unable to stop herself from leaning against his side. He was so cool. It felt amazing against the feverish nature of her skin and she wanted to hug him so badly.

“If he tries anything, I’ll make sure he doesn’t take you.”

He frowned at her and shifted his weight, not quite moving away from her but also not wholly embracing it. She hoped he would move away if he felt uncomfortable, as he did to a few of her other casual touches.

“You’re greatly misunderstanding the power he wields,” Astarion warned, his voice soft. “It would never be as simple as what we’ve seen so far. If he wanted to, he could stroll into this camp and whisk me away before you even noticed what had happened.”

Her solutions were a little scattered so she went for the easy one, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together before she could think about it.

“There,” she murmured. “If he tried to take you away now, I’ll notice immediately.”

Astarion’s muscles turned strangely tense and he made a small coughing sound, muttering something about how she would lose a hand then. She didn’t really hear it. Sleep crept up on her fast with the relaxing touch of his cool body and she lowered her head to his shoulder, eyes drifting closed.

When she woke in the morning, she lay alone in her tent beneath almost every blanket she owned and feeling brilliantly better. The pain faded and she felt ready to take on a hag.

Which incidentally is what they ended up doing. She spent the longest time afterwards wondering if she’d dreamed the previous night or not, distracted enough to nearly spill a bottle of unknown potion all over Gale. After a multitude of apologies, they made their way out and if Astarion’s hand brushed against the back of hers for a second, she didn’t mention it further.

Taglist: @venus-wrts @stephmundo @cassiopeia-adaar @escapistoftherealworld @scarletrosesposts @mavix

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader

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minty-drop · 3 months

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Shadow milk cookie x reader

Tw: consent of relationship to forced relationship, mentions isolation, yandere themes

Type: angst

Fear, is what was brought into the earth bread when the beasts had become spoiled,crazed with power running through there dough. They destroyed the once peaceful land into their own playground, twisting and turning beliefs into worship and then fear. No cookie stood a chance to those who stood higher than them, challenger after challenger being crush beneath the monstrous power the 5 cookies had.

That kind smile you once knew, the different shades of beautiful blues that glow in hues. the jester who loved a good trick, those eyes that used to hold such sweetness and mischievous nature now had become what they swore they would never be. A monster, a tyrant that played with the life of cookie kind for his own entertainment, destroying what took so hard to create all for his own selfish pleasure.

You tried to run away from the sickening beast this kind cookie had become. You had no choice, for if you didn’t, you would be killed as well, and you didn’t plan on going back. What you didn’t know is that, shadow milk cookie was not quite ready to let you go, much to your dismay.

And when he had pulled you down with him into the dark as the seal had been placed, you knew as you fell down with him. then and there, he was not the same cookie you once loved. Trapped with these 5 beasts for centuries in the small confinement of the silver tree. Shadow milk had lost his mind more than he already had along with his fellow ‘friends’.

Shadow milk cookie feeds his own delusions with the constant forced words he made you say against your will. So caught up in his fantasy he still doesn’t realize, no, he does not want to acknowledge the fact you no longer see him. All you see is a monster, even if a part inside of you still loves him, you will never forgive him for his actions.

And when that fresh air had suddenly hit you, the cookies in front of you tired and bruised as a young cookie sealed off the breach. You could hear the sorrowing screams of agony and desperation behind you, reaching out for you to come back to him, don’t leave him. With what little hope you had, bursting in tears you ran into a random stranger arms, the smell of lily’s filling your senses. anything to get away from the pain of leaving a part of your life behind.

…

#crk #crk spoilers #crk x reader #crk shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #x reader #fan fiction #requests are open

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brittle-doughie · 3 months

Note

In the Golden Cheese Kingdom, there’s the coliseum where the Brave Gang have to fight their way out while cookies watch for entertainment. Could I request a scenario where Y/N Cookie is traveling with the Brave Gang (Black Raisin, Gingerbrave, Wizard, Strawberry) and Y/N is absolutely stoked to fight in the coliseum being extremely overconfident and excited for any challenge from the coliseum. I’d like to see the reactions from Mozzarella, Smoked Cheese, and Cheesenbird as well to the peculiar joy of Y/N

The crowd roared with their cheering and shouts of excitement, ready to see the monsters duke it out amongst each other within the colosseum.

You, Gingerbrave, Wizard, Strawberry, and Black Raisin had made your way there for the Monster Games, determined to see if Golden Cheese would make her appearance.

“There’s so many Cookies that gathered to watch the monster fight, huh Y/N Cookie?”

You were too busy having your eyes dart around the various monsters, growling and thrashing at their caged cells. Mouths adorned with sharp teeth that want nothing more then to tear into whatever they get a grip on.

Afraid? Nervous? Head out the way you came?

No.

You. Were. Excited…

“Instead of trembling in fear, these Cookies reverse the invaders’ aggression on each other! Pretty smart, in my book!”

“I-Is Y/N Cookie okay? They look to be twitching a lot…”

“Y/N Cookie? Where are you going?!”

You dashed towards the center of the colosseum as you brandished your golden blade, the colosseum lights making it shine.

You called out to whoever was in charge and listening that you wanted to face the monstrous horde! You’ve handle every caliber of creature Earthbread had thrown at you and these monsters will join them in the dirt!

“Y/N Cookie! What’s the plan here?!”

“Hang on, Y/N Cookie might be onto something here. By fighting the monsters, we’re creating chaos in the arena. Doing that has to bring Golden Cheese Cookie out to see what’s going on.”

Black Raisin runs to the center and goes to Y/N Cookie’s side, holding their hand as she hyped up their appearance in the colosseum.

“EVERYONE, OVER HERE! WE’VE COME FROM THE OUTSIDE TOO! ALLOW US TO FIGHT THE MONSTERS! TONIGHT, VICTORY WILL BE OURS!”

“Oh? It looks like we have new unexpected contenders! Especially that joyful one with the sword, hehe~ How overconfident and so sure of themself, yet so brave and intriguing~ I’ll place all my coins on them~”

“Too overconfident…especially from a cookie that came from the outside. An outlander…I’d like to come down there and wipe the smile off their face myself…”

“They don’t seem to be overselling themself to me, maybe they really are that strong. Or is that just an excuse to get up close and personal with them~? I wouldn’t blame you~”

“That’s NOT what I meant…”

The two would then glance at you, still boasting about your strength and determination to tear through the groups of monsters in waiting. Mozzarella’s smile only grew wider as Smoked Cheese’s glare got harsher…but couldn’t help giving a small smirk himself.

“And if they do get bruised, I shall give them lotz of healingz! Chirp! Chirp!”

Black Raisin turned to you as she gripped your hand tighter, nodding to you as you did the same to her.

“Time to wreak havoc!”

———————————————————————

Adventurer Cookie was startled when Olive Cookie suddenly tear the text in her hands, Olive herself was taken aback by what she did.

“Woah! What happened?!”

“I-I don’t know! I think the olive oil made my hand slip!”

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run kingdom x reader #cr kingdom #smoked cheese cookie x reader #mozzarella cookie x reader

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aidaronan · 2 months

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Blood red eyes, point-sharp nails Reptile skin, prehensile tails Come one, cum all... to Monsterfucker May Details beneath the cut.

What is this?

It's pretty much what it says on the tin. Take your blorbo(s), monsterfy them, and put them in (sexy) situations. I'm calling it a Spicy Six challenge, but I did throw an asterisk (technically a dagger bc of its superior aesthetics) out beside that because you can totally also write, like, Selkie Joyce or Mothman Mr. Clarke. Or Jeff CorrodedCoffin getting his shit rocked by Mermaid Heather Holloway. I pretty much wanted to indicate that this particular challenge excludes the younger characters and there's not a great catch-all term for "every legal adult in Hawkins/Chicago/California."

How sexy does my fic/art have to be?

As sexy as you want. This IS a monsterFUCKER challenge, but... Maybe the sex is fade-to-black in your fic. Or maybe your monsters have sex in a very unique way. Maybe your art is just a ring-covered hand white-knuckling fur. Maybe it's fanged faces contorted with bliss. Sometimes anticipation and suggestion are plenty. That said, I also encourage the most unhinged freaknasty shit you can think up, if that's what you wanna do.

What counts a monster?

You tell me, pal. 😏

(Feel free to use the word loosely to include any kind of creature, fantasy/mythological being, or even random sentient concepts e.g. Death or Time.)

So how do I participate?

Write a fic and/or create a work of art that fits the challenge. Fics can be any length, and you can create as few or as many creative works for this challenge as you want. On tumblr and all other sites where hashtags are used, tag with #STMonsterMay and #STMonsterMay24 On AO3, add your work to the collection, searchable as STMonsterMay24 when posting a new work. This will open on May 1 at midnight US EST time. Please only add works posted in May to the collection/tags. (Sequels are okay! So are new works of art for existing fics/universes.)

Is it okay if I write/draw [character/ship/dark concept/etc.]?

I wholeheartedly and passionately do not give a shit. As long as it fits the parameters of the challenge, it's fair game. Just tag and warn appropriately. That said, I will kindly request people are a bit conscious of what they're doing. I'm thinking of things like not using Native/Indigenous monsters if they don't belong to you. Etc.

* Will this be moderated? This challenge will be 95% unmoderated because I expect people to act like the kind and conscientious adults they are. I also have no idea how successful or unsuccessful this will end up being yet and if it would even be possible to keep an eye on Everything.

However, if something really egregious happens re: cultural/racial sensitivity, or a serious lack of tags for a rough topic, people are encouraged to message or inbox me, and I'll look into it and make whatever call seems to fit the situation re: removal from the collection, talking to the creator, requesting additional tags, etc.

For things posted outside of the ao3 collection, there won't be much I can personally do except attempting to have a productive conversation with the creator (if there is a way for me to do that.)

Feel free to reach out if you have any Qs! Otherwise, I'll see you all in May. 😈

#stranger things #STMonsterMay #18+ only #fandom challenge

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hanatagami · 2 months

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sagau imposter au (part 1)

i was just introduced and am now an avid enjoyer to sagau, especially imposter ones, so i wanted to make some hcs. this is gonna be your pov, but i would like to do povs of the actual characters too.

Upon “descending” to teyvat, under circumstances you know now, you find yourself to be incredibly lucky that you arrived where you did

you woke up in a domain of all places

it was a weird thing to wake up to, being in the middle of a strange platform with a golden tree not to far from you

you weren’t certain what domain per say, but you could confidently deduce its domain-hood, though it never acted like a typical domain

as in monsters didnt spawn and there wasn’t a challenge for you to face

instead it acted like your own personal sanctuary

if you wanted to sleep: a bed would appear inside

the same with a bathroom (which was weird to use in a space that seemed almost alive) and any other luxuries or necessities you needed

you made sure to compliment the space you were in, just in case, and was surprised when the tree tinted pink, but in a situation like this

more shocking things were bound to happen

like looking at your body and noticing veins of gold which was plenty shocking, the gold seemed to be able to glow or dim to your desire.

You could make it so looked like your body was covered in rivers made of stars (which did wonders for your confidence, way better then any tattoo you could’ve gotten irl) or dim it to where the gold looked completely unnoticeable

now youve read your fair share of sagau fics, and you deemed its probably safest to stay in a domain for now, until you figure what tropes may await you

god forbid-

‘(Y/n) forbid...? no thats weird’ you think to yourself

god forbid it was an imposter au or smth and you get smited by whatever archon this domain resides in

luckily, the people in the world dont seem to be checking domains you h o p e

your content residing in the domain till you’ve figured out the full extent of your abilities, and it was only then that the domain provided enemies for you to practice on

(thankfully they weren’t actually alive, cause they are supposed to be your subjects now or something)

you figured out what you could with the guidance of a space that couldn’t physically speak with you, but you did your best

you were surprised to find that a lot of abilities weren’t really used by you per say, but rather that things followed your requests, if that made sense

you didn’t conjure wind to blow enemies away, but you gave silent requests and was gleefully answered

you didn’t create waves of water to send crashing against opponents, you asked and something, maybe Teyvat itself, listened

your hypothesis was that the original creator could manipulate things, but that is either learned or wasn’t passed on to you?

you thought yourself not as the original creator, but a reinvention of them. Almost like Nahida, you aren’t the orginal creator but perhaps the creator remade themselves into you and placed in another world to be raised as peoples equal and learn things like morals

perhaps tired of an eternal, all knowing, and all powerful existence.

it was a good idea to keep yourself free of the burdens of immortality, a self-imposed somewhat-life cycle

well that was your hypothesis, you didn't know for sure

but what you did know is that almost everything would answer your requests, even vague concepts like time, space, or gravity

you were even able to control the size of your body, growing big enough to fill the void below the domain, or small enough to be a molecule no one could see (you weren’t sure what was responding to you to do that, but it still worked)

‘the original creator mustve been amazing...’ you often thought to yourself

You goofed around a lot with these abilities before deciding to go out and venture into actual teyvat, to figure out what you were actually dealing with

imposters, killer characters, or whoever...beware, you know what your doing (kinda)

and as you stepped out into the land (after giving the domain a big thanks and promise to visit again) you grew a little surprised at the outfit change that happened the moment you stepped on land.

rocks and minerals from the earth arose and surrounded your body, not stabbing or poking you in anyway

instead it felt secure and comforting

you spun and gazed down in awe as all kinds of materials formed garments around your body

it was like a dream outfit for you, something celestial that you could only see in your imagination

and it looked like it came straight from Liyue

and which upon surveying your surroundings of the things in the area, seemed to be Liyue

when you turned around, there wasn’t actually a domain there, so you couldn’t use it as a landmark or anything

(it must be some personal creator domain? that would make sense)

maybe your “holy” garments change depending the country you were in?

Interesting theory, but you didn’t feel like testing it out just yet

requesting the materials to form something a little more Liyue casual to hopefully blend in

and with that you set off!

it only took a few minutes to realize you weren’t quite sure where you were going, but don’t worry, Teyvats got you

a beautiful path made of stone that was embedded with cor lapis arose from the ground to guide you to the city, your desired destination

and as you gazed behind you noticed the path disappeared a couple steps behind you

‘only i get the red carpet, eh? how kind~’

and with that NOW you set off

it was a very wonderful walk, really

much more peaceful then any walk you’ve had playing the game

no hilichurls or slimes or abyss mages trying to test your patience like they did with your designated traveler

well they did approach, but they approached bearing gifts! it was actually cute watching hilichurls walk up to you with their most valued item, and its like just an apple or something

but you thanked them, gave them a pat to which they always did their little dance which you couldn’t help but chuckle at (it was so much better in person) and that only seemed to make them more cheery as they went back to their tribe

slimes came up for some pets, which how could you not

when you pet the first slime that came up, a pyro slime, you were amazed at the way it felt. It didn’t turn its element off, cause apparently it didnt need too. when you touched it you could feel the pure heat it eminated, but it wasn’t painful. there was a firmness from slime section but the fire itself only seemed to keep you warm

it was then your goal to experience petting slimes of all elements on your way to Liyue’s city

and the results of your petting: electro had a pleasant tingling (especially if you have one hand on a purple one and the other ona yellow one), hydro was more water then slime, anemo felt like putting your hand above a air hockey table, dendro was disappointingly normal but it smelt really nice, and cryo felt like a thin layer of ice on top of water, and geo was rough (unshockingly)

it made your trip to the city very eventful and quick, you didn’t notice time passing at all

it was upon approaching the big gate of Liyue did you really stop to think of a plan

what were you gonna do when they recognize you? cause according to the fics you’ve read, they always do

eh you’ll wing it, you just wanna try Xiangling’s cooking tbh

and maybe one of Chongyun’s popsicles

would they recognize you and agree? would they think you were an imposter or something? you were kinda excited to find out

to avoid the small fries (the guards) from pulling anything, you covered the rest of the distance using a form of teleportation (thanks space) and entered straight into Liyue

you had appeared in an ally to hopefully avoid people spotting you fade into existence there

willing yourself to appear a little more confident (you’ve heard looking confident can really get you places when trying to sneak or fool people)

you began to trek through the big city you’ve grown so used to seeing from a screen

and you really arrived at just the right time, since it was dark from the night sky so all the lights and lanterns were lit, lighting up the city beautifully

so much more beautiful then in game, thats for sure

it kinda made you eager to see the lantern festival! the big deer lantern (the deer was actually an adepti wasn’t it? you kinda forgot) was sure to be breathtaking in person

and maybe it was your outfit, or maybe the lack of guards, nobody was really clocking you on your appearance

(you were only now deliberating that they may not know your appearance, it may be a vibe thing but who knows)

you didn’t see any statues dedicated in your honor, which was kinda a plus. no direct comparisons can be made

you had come up to Xiangling’s restaurant and she was, thankfully, the only one there

“Uh, excuse me.”

“Yes, how can I- Your grace!?”

ah, she knows

“SHHHH, I dont want anyone to know!”

“How are you here? Where are your guards?? It isn’t safe-”

“Don’t worry about it! I just want some of your food is all, I promise I’ll go back right away.”

So there was an imposter...how interesting.

“I could of just delivered it to you Your Grace, or someone could of picked it up!” She was looking at you with great concern, you weren’t entirely sure what would threaten the “creator” in this world to begin with, but they may just be paranoid.

“I mean with this imposter going around, who knows what they may try and do...” The thought itself seemed to bring Xiangling great distress, her body visibly drooping at her words.

It felt weird for her to be so concerned over you, when its not actually you shes concerned for. Not you, but someone whose trying to be you, so ig in concept shes concerned for you?

whatever

“Come on, this is definitely one of the safest cities to be in, you know that. By the time they tried anything they’d already be getting chased outta here! Besides, your right here, you can protect me!” It was weird trying to comfort her in this situation, and you could only guess if you were mimicking the actual imposter correctly.

“Well...I guess so...” She didn’t seem completely convinced at that, but she seemed to be letting it slide slightly at the thought of protecting and spending time with you. How sweet~

“Hey, do you think you can make me your signature boiled fish?” You were trying to stay vague...you wanted to try it, but you weren’t sure if the imposter had already, so you had to be picky about your words.

“Uh, sure. Yeah! I can do that for you!” She was channeling some optimism now, her face bright at the thought of “your grace” trying her signature dish. It was really cute!

You were lucky no one heard her shouting “your grace” however many times, there weren’t any other customers and her dad wasn’t there for whatever reason.

But that didn’t stop someone from recognizing you though.

You had felt something pulling on the lower half of your clothes, so naturally you look down and see

the one and only

former god

Guoba was gazing up at you with sparkles around his eyes

he seemed really excited to see you!

“Oh, aren’t you the cutest!” You were quick to scoop him up and give him the bestest of cuddles you could muster, and he seem to respond in kind

he was so much softer then you could of thought, and he emitted such a nice warmth

people in your world were told not to hug bears, so you werent gonna pass the chance to do so in this one

“Wha--Guoba?!” You both pause in your cuddling sensation to give Xiangling a shocked look at her interuption. Her attention had completely left the food she had been preparing previously (impressively enough her hands still seemed to be cooking it perfectly) and was focused solely on your interaction with the little guy.

“What’s the matter? Should I not be hugging him?”

“No no! Your more then welcome too Your Grace! Well at least I say but...the last couple times Guoba completely...disregarded you! I guess I’m just shocked.” Her gaze had bashfully returned to the food, potentially embarrassed at having such an outburst in front of you.

“Well I don’t know, maybe he just needed to get used to me.” You focus back on the little guy in front of you and part of you knows thats not really the truth. He’d been so “disregarding” because it was the imposter he had been presented with, not you. He didn’t really make expression but you could tell that he was really excited to see you and be held by you. he’s so freakin cuTE-

Another part of you was thinking, surely someone must’ve seen that as strange. You thought back to the “monsters” too, someone surely must’ve picked up that the imposter being ignored by animals or attacked by “monsters” should be very suspicious. But according to this whole imposter fiasco, it wasn’t suspicious to warrant a check.

“Here you are! A Wanmin Restaurant Boiled Fish, our speciality!” Xiangling placed the meal in front of you and gave you one of the brightest smiles you’ve ever seen, you almost had to squint at it. A mix of Guoba’s sudden acceptance of you, and trying her signature dish must be really exciting.

Sitting Guoba down in the chair next to you (to his displeasure, as he made sure you knew with an unhappy grunt) you pick up the utensils and look down at the meal in front of you. It smelled heavenly and you made sure to give it a good sniff before getting a spoonful and getting a taste.

The flavor embraced your tongue wonderfully, it was so delicious it was easy to think you wouldn’t order anything else at this establishment. I mean the characters always said Xiangling was a good cook, but this meal was just a whole other level of good.

During your food-caused glee, you didn’t take notice on how Xiangling had looked at you. She couldn’t help but think you looked especially radiant today, not to say you didn’t anytime else, but there was something about today that gave you such a...glow. Watching your eyes shut in delight, humming at the taste of the meal, she felt a warmth from your presence she hadn’t realized was lacking before. Even in a common Liyue garb, every aspect of you invited people to be enraptured by you and your presence. Her heart raced as your eyes cracked open happily to indulge in another bite. She hadn’t seen you so pleased trying food before, though she wasn’t really around to see you eatting

but the face you were making...part of her wishes you only made that face when you ate her food

she knew that if the rest of her life was spent only cooking for you, it’d be a life worth living. (she knew that before hand, but now more then ever did she feel that way)

Guoba had grumpily forced himself into your lap, making you have to scooch your chair back a bit to fit him while still eating (not that you minded, it enhanced the experience tbh)

Letting out a sigh at your full and satisfied stomach, you wrapped your arms around Guoba and buried your face into the top of his head

He let out a small sound of satisfaction, which was very cute

Gazing at Xiangling she seemed to be flustered trying to find a topic of conversation, which was kinda shocking cause she didnt seem like the type to struggle conversationally

(it was probably cause it was you)

“Bleh...I don’t really wanna go back after such a nice meal. I wanna have fuuun! Is there anything we can do that won’t get me caught?” You interrupted her internal dilemma with your own dilemma.

How do we get more out of my time in Liyue before im wrongfully exposed?

“I know! Are Chongyun or Xingqiu busy? We can hang out with them!”

She seemed conflicted at your suggestion, probably wanting to take you back for safety reasons, but also not wanting to cut your time together short.

“And Guoba doesn’t me to go either, see?” And indeed you were correct! The bear was giving Xiangling the best puppy eyes he could while in possession of bear eyes, and you could tell it was working wonders on her

you could tell by the sudden slump of her shoulders that her internal battle had concluded, and you let a bright smile at her sheepish nods.

Now what misdeeds can you guys get into before getting caught??

#sagau x reader #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #x gn reader

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