#and Bastian knows that and loves that and loves him and takes and takes and takes and takes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hellcat8908 · 2 months

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could i request nyx x reader, enemies to lovers where reader is the daughter gwyn and azriel and they have been rivals and hated each other since birth. Nyx thinks reader is stuck up and annoying and reader thinks he is arrogant and rude pls no snut just fluff and tension and some angst👀 i imagine jealousy and the inner circle laughing at them bc it is so obvious to everyone that they’re in love

Only A Matter Of Time Nyx x Female Reader (Both Adults)

Warnings: Red flags for abusive relationship

You tied your hair up in a quick ponytail as you made your way outside to train with Cassian. You watched as he and Nyx were finishing up with their session. Nyx's reflexes were impressive as he managed to dodge and counter Cassian's strikes. After a few minutes, you started stretching and warming up. "Focus!" Cassian commanded, and you look up to see Nyx on the ground. "You can't let yourself be distracted." Cassian says. "I wasn't distracted. I just didn't react fast enough." Nyx says. "Uh huh, sure." Cassian teases as you go back to stretching.

"Don't break a nail, princess." He says as he walks by you. "Your form could use some work, maybe you should stay and learn how it's done." You retort. "Alright, you two save it for the honeymoon." Cassian says. "He wishes." You say the same time Nyx says, "In her dreams." You start towards Cassian, "I have a date tonight, and I don't want to be late." You announce. Nyx steps faulter, but he keeps walking, hoping nobody noticed, but Cassian did. "Let's get started then."

Cassian had basically interrogated you about your date by the time you were done training. You were drenched in sweat from the hot sun and the drills Cassian had you do. You checked the time and realized you were running late, "Gotta go, Cass! I'm running late." You say as yoh take off towards the house. "Tell him if he lays a hand on you, he'll lose it!" Cassian calls after you being the protective uncle he is. You make your way into your spare room at the house of wind and shower before changing into the clothes you brought.

You were rushing out the door when you ran into a wall of solid muscle. "Why don't you watch where you're going?!" Nyx says with as he glares at you. "Sorry, I'm running late." You say, and you try to walk around him. He stops you, "So who's the loser you're going on a date with?" He asks. "Someone you don't know, now excuse me I have to go." You answer, but he continues to block your path, "seriously Nyx, I have to go." You tell him. "Lover boy will just have to get used to you being late." He says as he studies you. Finally, you've had enough and shove your way past him. "Good luck, He's gonna need it dating you." Nyx calls with a smirk.

You winnow your way to the restaurant where you're supposed to meet Bastian. You notice you're 15 minutes late. You keep searching and see him already at a table. You walk over and quickly apologize, "I'm so sorry I'm late. I swear I'm not usually like this." You say as you take a seat across from him. "I should hope not. It's inconsiderate to waste peoples time." He says with a cold tone. "I've never been here, have you?" You ask as you look over the menu. "Several times." He answers shortly.

The waitress comes to take your order, and you're about to ask for a few more moments when Bastian orders his food and then proceeds to order a salad for you. "Actually, I was going to have the..." You start to say when Bastian interrupts telling her you'll have what he ordered for you. After she walks away, you turn your attention to Bastian, "That was really uncalled for." You state. "What was uncalled for was you being 15 minutes late and now having an attitude." He says as he studies you. "Besides, I'm did you a favor by ordering you a salad." He says as his eye roam over your body.

"Are you seriously implying what I think you are?!" You say a little louder than you meant to, gaining the attention of the patrons around you. "Lower your voice and don't make a scene with your insecurities." He says nonchalantly. "You know what? I don't have to put up with this!" You say before moving to leave. He grabs your wrist, holding it tightly, "Sit down and stop embarrassing me!" He says quietly, so only you hear. "You're hurting me. Let go." You demand. "Remove your hand before I remove it for you." A familiar voice says. You turn and see Nyx standing there.

Bastian releases you in an instant, and you quickly leave before either of them can stop you. Once you're outside, you start making your way towards the house of wind. You get as far as two blocks before you hear Nyx calling you, "Princess, wait up." You quicken your steps as you tell him to leave you alone. "Please, y/n, just wait." He says jogging to catch up. "Let me take you home." He says. "Just leave me alone!" You shout, causing people to stop and look at you. You decide to reach out to Rhys to get Nyx to leave you alone. "Seriously? You called my dad!" He says, sounding annoyed.

He quickly winnows away at his father's command. Your relief is short-lived as you hear wings behind you. Spinning around, you're surprised to see Cassian standing there. "Rhys sent me to pick you up." He says. "I want to go to the house of wind." You say as he approaches you. "Wherever you want to go." He says before carrying you up to the house. As he lands and lets go of you, he says, "I don't know what happened tonight, but when you want to talk to someone, I'm always available." You just nod before going inside and making your way to your room.

You lock the door before changing into knit shorts and a tank top. You stepped out on the balcony off your room after grabbing a blanket and curled up in the chair to watch the sunset. You look at your wrist and see the fingertip bruises. You shake your head and let the tears fall that you've been holding in since you left the restaurant. You hated that Bastian had been such an ass but you hated more that Nyx witnessed it all. You were sure he had seen every moment of your humiliation, and you were certain he wouldn't let you forget it anytime soon.

You watched the sun sink behind the horizon. You watched as the stars started to appear as the sky turned to night. After dozing off a few times, you decided to finally go to bed. You fell into a restless sleep and groaned when morning came too early. A gentle knock on the door forced you out of bed. You pulled the door open as to find Azriel standing there. "Dad, what are you doing here?" You ask still half asleep. "You didn't come home last night, so I'm just checking on you. I made you breakfast." He says.

You roll your eyes, "Uh huh, I'm sure Nyx told you and everybody else about my stupid date last night, and you're checking up on me." The look of confusion on Azriel's face has you second-guessing yourself. "Nyx didn't say anything about your date, at least not to me or your mom." He says. "Sure, he didn't. I'm glad to see your acting skills have improved over the years. I'm not hungry, and I wish to be left alone." You say sternly before shutting and locking the door. "Angel, seriously, Nyx hasn't said anything to us. I haven't seen him since yesterday morning when I went to see Rhys." Azriel says through the door. "Leave me alone. I've been humiliated enough. I'll come home in a couple of days." You hear him sit the plate outside your door before he tells you he loves you and walks away.

You go back to bed and curl up under the blankets. After a few more hours, you get up and sit on the balcony. You can see Nyx and Cassian training. At the sight of Nyx, you think back to the conversation with your dad. He seemed genuinely confused, but why wouldn't Nyx tell everyone about last night. He's always bullied you and noted your failures. Why would he show you any sort of compassion now. As if he could hear your thoughts, his attention turns to you. A split second later, Cassian drops him. While he's down, you make your way back inside, not wanting to deal with him.

You make your way to the kitchen with the plate that was abandoned outside your door this morning. After scraping the food in the trash, you grab a sandwich and make your way back to your room. The weekly dinner at the river house is tonight, but you're not in the mood. You decide to lock yourself in your room with a book. You eventually fall asleep in the chair. You jump awake at the loud pounding on your door. "Open up, princess." Nyx calls through the door, "I brought you dinner since you were too busy hiding in your room." You ignore him. "Open up before the food gets cold." He says. After a few more minutes of him banging on the door, you finally hear him leaving.

You no sooner get in bed before he walks in from your balcony. "It works better if you lock all the doors, princess." He says as he sits the plate on your dresser. "Why are you here, Nyx?" You ask, eyeing him suspiciously as he leans against your desk. "Checking in to see how much longer you were going to hide." He says. "As long as I feel like," you say confidently. "It's not good for you." He says as he fidgets. "What do you care? Oh, that's right, you don't! Tell my parents or your father, whoever you're spying on me for, that i'm fine." You say. His face turns serious, "I do care about you." You let out a laugh in disbelief, "uh huh, sure you do, look, I'm not in the mood for you to mess with me. Can you do the nice thing for once in your life and just leave me alone."

He pushes off the desk, "Have I really been they awful to you?" He asks. "Seriously?! You've done nothing but make me miserable since we were kids." You answer. "No matter what I do, how hard I try, I'm never good enough to be anything to you besides a target. I wish you'd forget that I exist!" You say before falling apart in front of him. "The fact that you saw everything that happened on my date is humiliating. I haven't left my room or talked to anyone because I'm sure you told them how pathetic I am, and I can't deal with that right now! So just forget about me, please!" You collapse on your bed as sobs rack your body. Years of supressed emotions coming to the surface, overwhelming you.

"Y/n, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this, I swear. He approaches you and reaches out to touch you, "Don't!" You shout as you pull away. "You've always been better than me at certain things, and I let my jealousy get the best of me. I know you're not going to believe me, but I didn't tell anyone about what happened on your date. It's not my place to, but I am sorry that being there hurt you more." He says. "I'm sorry for everything I've done, and I hope someday you'll believe me and maybe even forgive me." He says before unlocking your door and walking out, leaving you utterly alone. You think about what he said as you cry yourself to sleep.

You wake up and quickly get dressed. You make your way to the river house and knock on the door. Nyx answers the door, "Is your dad around?" You ask. "He's in his office." Nyx says as he steps aside to let you in. You walk down the hall towards Rhys's office and gently knock on his door. "Come in." Rhys calls. You step inside his office as he stands to give you a hug. "How are you doing, dear? We missed you at dinner last night." He says. "I'm alright, just working something out. What did Nyx tell you about the other night? When I asked you to get him away from me." You ask bluntly.

"He said that you were upset and he was worried about you." Rhys answers, "that's why I sent Cassian to take you home." You look surprised, "He hasn't said anything about what I was upset about?" Rhys looks at you questioningly, "No, he said it was something you'd share if and when you were ready." You try to process what Rhys told you. You couldn't believe Nyx didn't tell everyone. "Thanks, I'm sorry for bothering you." Rhys gives you a smile, "You never bother me, dear. One more thing before you go. I know you and Nyx don't get along easily, but he does care about you." You do a quick check of your mental shields finding them intact. "I don't need to probe you're mind to know, dear. Anyone would have to be blind not to notice. Why do you think we all tease the two of you." He says with a smirk. You roll your eyes, "bye, Rhys." You say before leaving his office.

You're going over what Nyx said yesterday and what Rhys just told you as you walk down the hallway. You aren't paying attention as you think about how you really feel about Nyx. You crash into a tense body. "Is this going to be a regular thing?" Nyx asks with a laugh before catching himself, "Sorry, I wasn't trying..." You cut him off midsentence by pressing your lips to his. Once he gets over the initial shock, he wraps his arms around you and deepens the kiss. You pull back and look into his eyes, "Please tell me I didn't just royal mess everything up." He smiles down at you, "quite the opposite." He says before kissing you again.

Suddenly, the door opens, and your parents walk in along with Cassian and Nesta. Cassian shouts, "it's about damn time you two figured it out!" You look at them confused, "what is everyone doing here?" "Rhys said there was something we needed to see." Your dad says, "and I'm guessing this was it." He says laughing. "You two owe me $100." Rhys says as he walks up. Cassian and Azriel hand him money. "You seriously bet on if we would get together?" You ask, looking at the three of them. "Not if you would get together but when you would get together. It's nothing compared to what the women bet on." Cassian says with a smirk even though he lost the bet.

"What did you bet on?" Nyx asks, turning his attention to Feyre while you look at your mom. "When you'd have kids." She says with a guilty smile. You laugh, "we should've known after all the teasing." You say with a laugh as Nyx pulls you into his arms, "hopefully none of you chose anytime soon because I have a lot of years to make up for before we even consider kids." He says with a genuine smile. "Yes, you do. Besides, who said I wanted kids. You're enough of a handful already." You tease.

"You know we'd have the cutest kids when the time comes. But right now, breakfast smells delicious. Let's eat." Nyx says as he escorts you into the dining room where an amazing looking breakfast awaits. "This conversation isn't over, and you're not completely off the hook." You say as he sits beside you. "I know, but for now, let's enjoy breakfast with our families." He says with a smile. You can't help but smile back.

#acotar #batboys #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #nyx x reader #nyx #nyx archeron #nyx acotar #acotar fic #acotar angst

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readychilledwine · 5 months

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another fic idea for you, my queen, if you would like to write it into existence. instead of thesan publicly having a male lover, he has a peregryn female who is his “beard”. like he tells everyone she’s his lover when he definitely doesn’t swing that way. let’s pretend everyone believes him 🫢 and their agreement is actually a bargain that she can’t break with the stipulation being that the bargain is fulfilled once she finds her mate. her bargain tattoo is super visible like up her neck (or on her face, but like tastefully of course) during the high lord meeting, azriel has a love at first sight moment (he’s obsessed but the mating bond hasn’t snapped) and he is once again thwarted by Rhys who tells him to stay away to prevent war with dawn court. azriel still secretly meets with the peregryn who 100% returns his affections bc she’s not ACTUALLY with thesan. but then they’re somehow caught red handed. shit hits the fan because keeping up with appearances, thesan is literally about to throw it down with the night court for stealing his girl. He’s actively beating up azriel (who is letting him bc angst 🤷🏽‍♀️) with the peregryn screaming at him to stop when the bond snaps and her very visible bargain tattoo fades away (dramatically like with gold shimmers or something bc it’s dawn court LOL) and it’s happily ever afters all around. (I hope you don’t mind me sending you these fully fleshed out ideas bc I can’t write worth a damn but I know you would do them justice 🫡)

Love and 1000 other Lies

Summary - Aurora has held her place with pride and joy aince accepting Thesan and Bastian’s idea and becoming their coverup. But a certain shadowsinger seems to have other plans for her and her future

Warnings - implied smut, swearing, threats, mentions of war, time jump transitions, sappy Azriel

A/n- after my final edit and run through, this is just shy of 5.7k words. I fixed some grammar errors, changed out some wording, and turned this into a full on love child. I hope you all enjoy her as much as I enjoyed the long process of writing her, perfecting her, and editing her. I used a new writing method, so I do apologize for weird cuts and flow if there is any 💜

"Ew," Thesan joked quietly as his fake lover went to hold his hand, lacing their fingers together. "You need better hand cream."

She shot him an insulted look, eyes darting between her best friend and his actual lover. "I use the hand cream you two bought me. It's not my fault you didn't drop warrior from my title when you decided on our… arrangement."

Thesan nodded to the guards, he offered his "wife" his arm, holding her a little closer as they entered the room a few high lords had already entered with their parties. To the outside world, it was Thesan and Aurora the High Lord and Lady of Dawn who were very much in love. On the inside they were best friends, and had been forever. Thesan loved her like a sister he had never been blessed with, and she loved him, and his mate, like the brothers she had always wanted.

75 years ago, when they had asked her to publicly marry Thesan to protect him from Amarantha's claws, she had not hesitated to say yes. She had not hesitated when it came to the bargain either. Was she thrilled when morning glories began to appear on her neck, wrapping her ear like the vines they grew from, and appearing on the right side of her face? No. Thesan had not been either, but could they change it? No. Now though, it was just part of her. It was a piece of who was and would be until she found her mate and presented him to Thesan.

He escorted her to her chair, kissing the top of her hand gently before taking his place. His own mate stood behind both of them, keeping the outward appearance as their selected guard. Bastain loved Thesan dearly, and he had been the one to come up with the plan of using Aurora as their cover. He never once was jealous until they were trapped under the mountain, and playing an occasional role became a daily struggle between the three of them. Mainly due to the common room inspections they were forced to endure. Thesan and Ro were forced to take their marriage to levels they had not expected nor wanted. Levels they had promised each other wouldn't be crossed.

The three of them watched each party enter, every High Lord coming to greet the Peregryn female to compliment the beauty of their home and Palace. Aurora smiled at each compliment, thanking them and holding their wife’s or female guest’s hands as she played her role. The gentle home maker, the skilled combat healer, the soft soul who had somehow captured the heart of Pryithian’s most elusive High Lord.

Kal and Viv were particularly taken with the pond that centered the room. The lord of Winter had always wanted to incorporate more of the land into the building Amarantha had destroyed where he formerly hosted meetings and gatherings with outside courts. “I just do not understand how you manage such things,” he turned to Aurora. “Thesan, I may steal your wife for a few weeks. My court could use such talented eyes.”

Aurora smiled at him as they took their seats and she sat back on her own, straightening her dress before putting her hand back on Thesan’s muscled inner forearm.

Bas leaned into his husband's side, "I can't wait to remind her she has the taste of an Illyrian Brute when we are all alone." Thesan covered his mouth, eyes sparkling. “I designed that for you, you harlot. You did do a lovely job with the stone, plant, and fish selection though.”

Aurora whispered back, a soft smile hiding the small and playful pissing contest between her and Bas. ”You realize that is much more important than the design of a stone pool, right? I am literally the one who made it worth looking at.”

“She is not wrong, Bas. She did a lot of the-” Thesan paused. "The Night Court is here."

Aurora rolled her eyes, a headache already starting at the thought of seeing Rhysand again. "Do I really have to be here?"

"Yes," the males both said quietly.

Bas handed her a wine glass over her shoulder. "No one said you cannot drink through this though, my lady." She took the wine happily.

"Thank you, General."

"Of course, my lady." He replied playfully. "Must Rhysand always make everything an ostentatious fashion show?"

Aurora almost spit her wine out, gripping Thesan's hand a little tighter. The High Lord hid his own laughter by clearing his throat. "Composure, 'Rora," he hissed under his breath. "Azriel is extra scrumptious today, though. The Mother took her time on that one."

Bas hummed in agreement. "I heard he plays both sides of the field."

Thesan raised his brows in excitement. His urge to gossip came forward as his eyes began to sparkle. "Oh do tell."

"Later." Thesan noted Azriel's eyes on his "wife" the whole meeting.

It wasn't that he could blame the male, Aurora was stunning, especially for fae standards. Gorgeous silky chocolate hair, plump full lips, a button nose, and beautiful curves that sat on her muscled frame perfectly. Her dress accented her hourglass figure. Had he enjoyed the company of females, he would have courted her, possibly married her for real. It was her mind that intrigued Thesan most. She was intelligent, witty, funny. SHe held herself to high standards and performed at that standard whenever it was asked of her. There was also her selflessness. Her willingness to place a target on her own back to protect him, to protect Bastian, to protect their court. Aurora was as beautiful inside as she was outside, a true sparkling rare gem of his court that he could have used for so much more than a fake marriage.

He placed a hand possessively on her thigh as she focused on her quiet discussion with a kneeled down Bastian. Thesan shot Azriel a look of warning as he caught the shadowsinger staring at her again. "Rhysand, tell your family to keep their eyes off taken females."

Despite the marriage being fake, Thesan knew two things. The first was he had to keep the act of a protective territorial male up. The second was he would never yield her to the hands of the Night Court. He would never yield any of his fae to the Night Court. Not after years of Rhysand’s constant humiliation. His constant attacks. Not after what he had done to the barely healed wings of his wife.

The High Lord of Night knitted his brows together before turning to Azriel and following his gaze to where Bastian and Aurora were whispering Hybern's battle plans Tamlin had just presented. “I apologize, Thesan. She is just as radiant today as rumors and gossip makes her out to be. Forgive Azriel. Please. It is both rare to see a female with wings, and one in such a high position of power among the Illyrians.”

Aurora paused, feeling the room's eyes on her. She made confused eye contact with Viv who simply pointed to the Night Court as she and Kal too had picked up on the stares from the Spymaster. "Did I miss something, love?"

Thesan gently pulled your hand to his. "Nothing, dove. Just a male not keeping his gaze where it belongs." He kissed her hand gently. "Thoughts on those papers?"

Aurora handed them back to Bas with a sigh. "Our air legion would not be enough, nor would the Illyrian Armies. If they truly have those numbers, we will need to work closely with the Night Court and their general. The bigger concern is their Naval fleet. I would have never guessed to have put Hybern in possession of that level of an armada.”

Rhysand spoke. "Which brings us back to the question at hand Lady Dawn. Can we trust Tamlin when Spring has been known to ally with Hybern and he is the reason they are here?"

Aurora spoke without thinking, 50 years of anger lacing her tone. "I did not realize all males were their fathers, Rhysand.” She watched as the sentence struck where she aimed it and his sharp jawline tightened. “Should we worry about you and where you stand as well? Your father only fought with us during the last war because he did not want to lose his place as High Lord had Hybern's last efforts been successful. It seems the offer Hybern made Tamlin would have surely swayed your father. Perhaps it swayed you as well, seeing as your so-called High Lady,” Aurora held up the letters Feyre sent Hybern on “behalf” of Tamlin, “Is the actual reason they invaded a full year ahead of plan.”

Tension in the room rose slightly as the Lord of Night and Lady of Dawn stared each other down. No one sitting in those chairs who had witnessed her torture would soon forget her screams, nor how Rhysand had smiled as he administered it. "Of the High Lords currently present, I've experienced cruelty from two of them. One simply because of my wings,” a pointed look to Autumn had even Beron looking away, refusing to be in the stare of a female he knew could end all trade supply of healing herbs and medicines to his court. “And one because he was evidently so deep into what he wanted us all to believe was an act that all courtesy went out the window." Her gaze went back to Rhys, hard eyes meeting shamed violet ones.

Rhys shifted. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Bas spoke firmly, the timber of his voice almost shaking the room. "You plucked her wings bare. Twice. You do not get to say you never wanted to hurt her when you did. You will not address my lady any further. We will choose to believe Spring until given a real reason not to that isn't some farce of a lovers spat."

Azriel growled at another general commanding his High Lord, and Aurora immediately stood facing him between them. "You've already attacked Eris Vanserra, Shadowsinger, do not test your luck against the Dawn Court in our home. Unlike Autumn, I am more than capable of handing you and finishing what you start. We are warriors too, shadowsinger. Try your best to not forget that.”

Azriel felt his chest tighten, then warmth, and a snap. His eyes went wide before he turned to Rhysand with a panicked expression.

Lady Dawn was his mate.

Azriel paced the room Helion, Cassian, and Rhys all sat watching him in. "What do I do?"

Cassian spoke first with a shrug. "Nothing you truly can do, Azriel. Unless you plan on breaking up a marriage between the High Lord, who may I remind you controls healers, healer apprenticeships, and the flow of healing medicines and tonics, and his wife absolutely hates your high lord and brother."

Rhys nodded gently. "I already pushed that alliance enough without choice, Azriel. We can't risk it. They supply all of our healing houses, they staff our healing houses. All of them are on contract and Thesan could pull the healers home without notice or warning.”

Helion shifted. "So I'm the only one who noticed then?" The three males all looked to him, indicating for him to continue. "Aurora fidgets with her "wedding ring", Helion putsput fake emphasisemphases on the phrase, "when she's nervous. She spins it, slides it off and on. She never wears that rock. Her finger is tanned, and there is no indent indicating she actually wears her wedding ring frequently. It could be because of her status as a second general, but, still, even if she had it off to train for 3 to 4 hours a day, she should still have some sign of it on that pretty hand of hers.”

Helion took a sip of his wine and continued. "That bargain on her also has specific conditions. I have not had the pleasure of being alone with her long enough to read the rune markings, but it is not a life bargain one would normally see between a High Lord and his Lady. I would talk to her, alone, Azriel. I do not think that marriage is all it is cracked out to be.”

Rhysand leaned forward. "The reason Amarantha began to target them was because their room never smelled of sex, but Thesan did. As did Bastain and his room. But never Aurora. Whose room only ever smelled like her. She thought it was…. Odd."

Helion nodded. "That's my point. She's covering for them. We all know Thesan had no interest in females until Amarantha started rearing her ugly ass head around. Then suddenly Thesan and sweet Aurora were married. It is suspicious at the very least, and a lie at the most."

Rhys shook his head, standing to go to bed. "Stay away from her, Azriel. I do not want to have to add War with Dawn on to our family meeting agendas. I also do not want to deal with fighting a war with no healers for our court.”

Azriel could not find sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, heart beating too rapidly with joy and his soul screaming too loudly with excitement. He felt a tug on the bond, and Azriel immediately left the room, following his shadows to where they said Lady Dawn currently was.

He took him a little while to find her in the dark herb garden, and he almost stopped his approach completely when he did. Her long hair was completely down, her feet bare as she stood by the lake in the flowing knot and rope styled dress she was wearing. "Shadowsinger," she greeted calmly as a tendril of dark Mist weaved between her fingers in greeting.

Azriel moved standing next to her. "Lady Dawn."

They stood there in silence, both afraid to break the dam and address what happened in the meeting. Azriel broke the silence first. "Can you feel it?"

Aurora answered honestly. "Only because of my powers. It didn't snap for me yet, and I do not know why."

Azriel stared at the bargain tattoo dancing on her neck and face. "Does it have anything to do with the bargain?" She shrugged at the question. "What exactly is the bargain?"

"I can't tell you." Azriel nodded at the response. His eyes then went down to her hand, noticing the lack of diamonds currently adorning her left ring finger.

"Where are your chambers?"

Aurora rose a brow, a small smirk forming. "Bold."

Azriel nodded. "I've waited over 500 years for you. I will be as bold as I need to be."

He took her shamelessly that night. Noting how she truly did have her own chambers located nowhereno where near Thesan. How her chambers only smelled like her.

He memorized every shiver, every sound, every plea. She had not been touched, truly touched, in years. Azriel hated the thought of it. He hated the idea of her alone in this giant bed. He hated the thought of her being woken up to the sun rising and painting the sky in soft light instead of waking to kisses and worship.

He hated that his bond was being hidden by a lie. He slipped from her room using the shadows and returned to his before the sun fully rose. He held back tears as he washed the scent of her off of his skin, hating every single second of it. He looked away from Rhysand as he asked for help masking what lingered. Not in shame, but so his brother wouldn’t see his hurting, his small amount of guiltguit wracking through him.

Breakfast the next morning was filled with uncomfortable silence. Aurora sat next to Thesan, eating silently as shadows ran her legs and skirts under the table. She had glamored the scent of night mist clinging to her skin softly, the love marks, the small bruises. She smiled as Thesan kissed her hand, trying to pull her from her distracted mind with a look.

Azriel kept his gaze from her. Keeping his focus on his plate and just holding the memories from last night as close to him as possible.

They sought each other out weeks later before the war truly began. Azriel etched the look on her face as they stood in Velaris together ininto his memory. He led her to his cabin, keeping her with him that weekend. He learned she loved to read, to explore and hike, to laugh. He had laughed so hard in those 3 days he was pretty sure his body had discovered unworked muscles. It had taken him those 72 hours to fall for her. He wasn’t sure if it was the bond driving it, or just because they were simply meant to be, but Azriel knew after 72 hours he would never love anyone like this again. And, selfishly, he never wanted to.

She came to him during the war. Seeking him out in the dead of night near their camps, drenched in blood and exhausted. “Azriel,” Aurora set her weapons down, almost collapsing at his feet as sobs shook her to the core. His mate. His gentle mate. A 2nd general of a large legion of warriors, breaking down as he moved to her instantly.

He held her close, stroking her matted hair as she clung to his leathers. “It's okay,” he soothed her, wishing that bond had snapped in those stolen moments alone so he could send her everything he was feeling, every trapped word. Azriel snuck her into this tent that night, keeping her close after bathing the blood, dirt, and sweat from her body, from her soft hair and wings.

That was the beginning of a nail in the coffin.

He had not been as vigilant as he should have due to his focus locked solely on Aurora.

She was his priority, not her husband’s mate watching them.

Bastian kicked off the tree. This was the third confirmation he needed. The first had come the morning after the High Lord’s meeting. Aurora’s room had a scent he knew, but hadn’t been able to place. The second came as he watched her sneak out and fly towards the Night Court. Now this. He wanted to chalk it up to war bringing out emotions and needs in all of them. Afterall, he had shamelessly fucked Thesan into a state of bliss and emptyness just moments ago. But there was something in the way Azriel held Aurora, as if he was familiar with her and her body that gave Bastian the answer he needed.

They were having an affair.

And she was a traitor and potential threat to their court.

A month after the war, Azriel and Aurora began to fall into a soft dance. Every two nights, they met in the Day Court, hiding their affair, their love, among Helion’s many fae and open court. Guilt had set into Aurora’s mind at times, guilt that she was betraying her court, her two closest friends. Guilt that she did not feel the bond the way Azriel did. Guilt that as she laid beneath him that night with Azriel peppering kisses and gentle words of adoration and praise into her tanned skin with each slow calculated movement inside of her, that she loved him.

Aurora had truly, madly, and deeply fallen for this male without caution, without second thought, without hesitation. She didn’t need a bond to tell him that as her head fell back, and she whispered those three words over and over, whining desperately for him, pleading for him, feeling nothing but the wholeness only Azriel brought her. Her nails sunk into his back when they found completion together, minds and souls merging into one.

A ring box sat on the bedside table next to them, a glittering black and blue gem centered in gold with sapphires sat beside it, mocking her as he slept . He was behind her, an arm curled around the curve of her waist, soft breathing fanning her neck and causing her to shiver in anticipation of the morning sex she knew they would have.

The ring was such a contrast to the blush pink diamond that sat silver Thesan had gifted her. It wasn’t fair. Thesan was allowed his lover in their scam of a marriage, yet Aurora was meant to be the docile wife blind to what everyone else clearly could see. Every meal between her, Thesan, and Bastian was becoming more and more hostile as resentment built and built on her end. It wasn’t fair, knowing she’d fly home to Dawn tomorrow and they’d be wearing those golden bands while she hid this gorgeous ring and only wore it when she was alone.

She didn’t know they knew. That they had agreed to let her confess in her own time and explain. It wouldn’t matter if she had told them, until that bond snapped, she was trapped in this limbo.

Azriel landed as quietly as possible on Aurora's balcony. It was eerily quiet and dark inside of her normally life filled room. He entered slowly and paused when he saw Thesan sitting on her couch in front of the fire.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out?" The High Lord sipped something as he waved Azriel closer. "How long have you been fucking my wife in my home?" Azriel did not respond. Only setting his weapons aside to show he meant no harm. Bastian came into the room as well, Aurora held tight in his grip as tears streamed down her face.

Azriel couldn’t suppress the growl that tore through his throat. “Let. Her. Go.”

Thesan was tired of games, though. Tired of months of lies after pretty lies. “He will after you two try to explain yourselves. It is a crime to fuck a High Lord’s wife. Or did Rhysand not tell you that when he put you up to this?”

Azriel glared towards Thesan before locking his gaze on Aurora, the feral side of him watching for any sign of pain or distress since he could not feel her the way he should have been able to. He called out for Rhysand in his mind, not even flinching as Rhys and Cassian appeared behind him.

Rhysand took in the scene, taking a deep breath as his suspicions were all but confirmed. He knew he had no right to judge. After all, he had taken his own mate from her impending marriage to another High Lord. “Thesan, let’s talk about this, please.” Rhys put his hands up, showing he meant to harm as he approached the other High Lord. “I know this is not ideal-”

Thesan interrupted, anger spilling into his words. “He’s fucking my wife. My 2nd general. How much information has she handed to all of you? How deep does this betrayal go, Rhysand?” Azriel paled at what was being inferred, at the consequences Thesan could hand his mate if he felt necessary.

Banishment and death, Aurora realized slowly. This was going to end with her being banished from her home, and possibly from the Night Court to maintain that little relationship Thesan and Rhys had rebuilt, or with her and Azriel’s death. “I told him nothing,” she whimpered out. “It wasn’t like that, Thesan. You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did,” those words felt like hot knives in her chest, cutting deeper than she had ever imagined they could. “I can see now I was clearly wrong about you, Clearly wrong for picking you.”

Aurora just nodded, taking the scolding before looking at Azriel. “Just let him live, Thesan, please. Do what you want with me, but let him live.” Bastian’s grip on her faltered slightly, and Thesan’s mask fell. There was desperation in her tone. “He’s just a male. You know how you all are when something pretty and kind looks your way.”

Bastian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, “So you initiated it?”

The lie fell easily as she looked as Cassian gripping Azriel’s arm, holding him back from rushing to her, and in place in case they needed to escape. “Yes, I sought him out each time.”

Thesan knew she was lying. He knew the meeting between them were mutually planned. “So, you confess to high treason then, wife?”

Death. She realized fully. This was going to end with death. She should have been more afraid, but she couldn't be if her confession led to Azriel's safety. “Yes.”

Thesan's face dropped fully. “And you Azriel-”

“Should not be held accountable for my actions,” Aurora interrupted. “Let him go. Ban him from Dawn if you must, but please, let him live.”

Thesan moved to her, taking her chin in his hand. “You love him?”

All she could do was pause, lip trembling as she looked at Thesan's hurt eyes. “I do.”

“More than our people, our court?”

Azriel felt Rhysand move to him as he went to jump, the urge to protect his mate growing stronger and stronger. “Stop,” Rhysand growled and commanded. “She's trying to save your life. Fucking stop.”

“She is my life!” Azriel shouted back. “She is my everything.”

Azriel broke free from them, glaring harshly, “she is why I get out of bed. Why I am happy. She is why I don't fucking hate myself so much anymore. She makes me want to be better. She makes me want to be a better male for myself, for her, for all of you.”

Aurora pulled at Bastian’s grip, wanting to reach Azriel, to hold him. “Let her go. We will leave to the continent and never return. We will both swear out of our positions. Please, Thesan, let my mate go. Do not hurt her.”

The words had Bastian’s hand fall off Aurora's arms, shock setting in as she rushed to Azriel, jumping into his arms and holding him as if her very life and being depended on it.

Thesan was frozen in place watching them. Watching as she whispered goodbye and kept trying to fight him into leaving. “I'm not leaving without you. I'm not living without you.”

Azriel had a tight grip on her upper arms. “I would face 1000 executioners, 1000 deaths, before ever returning to life where you are not in it. If I have to die at his hand by your side, Ii will.”

Aurora shook her head, eyes pleading. “Please go.”

Azriel's lips tightened in a sad smile. “No, angel. I'm not leaving you.” He pulled her to him, holding her head against his chest as she began to cry. “I love you far too much to say goodbye this soon.”

It was as if time was standing still, Rhysand and Cassian unsure of what to do as Bastain grabbed a lunging Thesan's arm and held him back while pointing.

Before them, Aurora's neck and face bargain was glittering, glowing softly as her and Azriel stood there, eyes shut and foreheads touching. He was whispering every soft confession of love to her, of how he had waited for her for centuries, and how he would have waited more. The mark began to fall like snow, sparkling its way down and removing itself from Aurora as the scent of a strong bondbind between mates began to fill the room.

Thesan calmed instantly. Realizing his own hand had played a part in her inability to fully make thatr sacred connection. That their bargain had come with terms he had unknowingly placed. It had forced Aurora to learn and fall in love with Azriel without its influence and power. Ensuring she loved him more than her position, her fae, her court.

It had ensured the male loved her the same though. Ensured he would live for her, breathe for her, bleed for her.

Azriel kissed her deeply, not opening his eyes before forcing her back behind him and offering himself to Thesan.

They loved each other so deeply that their feelings mirrored and merged. Causing him to be blissfully unaware of her ability to see that golden string and of her feelings hitting him wave after wave, colliding with his own in harmony.

Rhysand's jaw twitched as he gently grabbed Aurora. “Fly her home, Cassian. Get her out of here.”

Bastian held a hand up. “There's no need to do that. Her part of the bargain is fulfilled.” He turned to his mate. “Let her go, The’. Let her be happy. She's sacrificed so much for our home. For us.”

Thesan looked at her with pride and sympathy. “I'm so fucking happy for you,” he rushed to his best friend. “Oh Gods we get to plan a wedding!” Thesan pulled her in close. “An actual wedding, Rora. Not some bullshit paper with conditions.”

Cassian rose a brow to Bas, crossing his arms. “General.”

Bastain raised a brow to Cassian, mimicking his stance and tone, “General?”

Cassian put his hands up, smiling. “Why didn't you two just tell all of us? We don't care.”

Bastian smiled, head inclining to Thesan. “To protect him. The rules of war are not the same as the rules for leaders.”

Rhysand scoffed. “Tell that to Helion, Tamlin, and Tarquin.”

“And you,” Azriel quickly said. “Beron and Kal are the only two that haven't slept with another male.”

Thesan was too deep in Aurora, wiping her tears away to even care about the rest. “Rora, I have the perfect dress in mind. You're going to love it. It's this pretty white drop waist with a lace back. Cute off the shoulder ties. Big full tulle skirt. Not like Feyre's cupcake monstrous dress, but classy. Faerie tale like.'' Aurora nodded. All her worries were forgotten as she waited for him to continue. “Oooooh in the High Garden,” Thesan was practically drooling. His true side coming out in front of strangers for the first time. “I always imagined your hair down in a waterfall braid with flowers too.”

He made it a reality a year later. Aurora rocked back on her high heels, hands shaking as Bastian stood beside her, waiting for the cue to take her before Rhysand, Feyre, Thesan, and the High Priestess of Dawn. “Breathe,” Bastian commanded softly. Almost smirking as the command forced an effect on her.

He had enjoyed giving commands since being sworn in as Thesan's husband and second High Lord of Dawn. He thought it was funny how almost unbearably compulsive the commands were to follow. “Asshole,” she muttered softly. “I'm allowed to be nervous.”

Bastian shrugged. “It's just a wedding with over 500 fae present. I don't understand what there is to be nervous about? It's not like this wedding also seals an agreement between Dawn and the Night court in regards to healers, trade exports, cross training between our camps-”

Aurora glared at him, her face paling. “Shut. Up.”

It was still odd to see her bare skin. Her face was unmarked from the bargain. Azriel had promised his mark on her would appear elsewhere, wanting the world to admire her beauty.

He was hoping for her spine, somewhere hidden from his countless enemies, but visible in the low back dress styles popular in Night. Hell, he would settle for a tiny A adorning her ring finger.

Just something marking her as his.

The music began and Bastian offered her his arm, “Ready, Aurora?”

She smiled and nodded. “As ready as I'll ever be.”

#acotar #acotar x oc #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel acotar #azriel acosf

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crash-bump-bring-the-whump · 11 days

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Whumpril 2024 - Day 16 - Coughing Fit

Oh I love this prompt, I do love inflicting An Awful Illness on my boys c:

TWs: Illness, fever

"Come on, just take a seat, nice and slow." Only Bastian's hands at Mariano's hips kept him from collapsing to the bathroom floor. He trembled as his knees gave out, and Bastian lowered him to the carefully constructed pile of blankets and pillows. "You need a steam session bad."

Mariano's fingers never released their grip on Bastian's shirt. "Thank you. I didn't think a flu could get this awful--" He was cut off by a round of coughing that ripped through him, each one raking its nails over his lungs and up his throat as his free hand clapped to his mouth. He couldn't fully manage to get any of the congestion up, stuck in the awful limbo of needing to cough and needing to breathe at the same time.

It felt like he was drowning in that military hospital bed all over again.

When he managed to wheeze in a breath and the roaring in his ears quieted, Mariano realized that Bastian was kneeling beside him. One hand slid along his back between his shoulder blades while the other braced against his chest to help keep him from falling into the blanket face-first. "You good?"

The question was less mocking than usual, and Mariano just nodded, holding out a thumbs-up.

"Good," Bastian's hand left Mariano's back and he felt him leaning and reaching into the bath. With the harsh rattle-scrape of the curtain rings sliding against the rod, Bastian fully spread the shower curtain and then turned the shower on full blast. He twisted back around and tugged Mariano up into his lap, ignoring the embarrassed squawk it drew.

Once Mariano was settled and his back was to Bastian's stomach, Bastian patted Mariano's chest affectionately. "Now, let's get some steam in here. It'll help break that crap up and maybe you'll get some sleep tonight."

"Don't even know why it hit me so hard." Mariano complained as he dropped his head back against Bastian's chest. His voice sounded like a rusty gate. He grimaced. "You were only sick for three days but we both got the flu shot."

"Yeah, and I didn't get tortured for two years and starved for like, eight more." Bastian said, kissing the top of Mariano's head as he started to slide his palm over Mariano's pact brand at the center of his burning chest. Mariano was in one of his old tees so the contact shouldn't have been too overwhelming--and just like he hoped, Mariano just relaxed into him with a sigh. "I think your body's earned being absolutely obliterated by a flu."

"Whatever." It was the closest Mariano was going to get to admitting that his idea that he was still nineteen and able to work through anything was less than realistic. "I guess it's best for me to stay home anyway. The kids don't need to catch this and neither do the customers."

Bastian laughed as steam really started to fill the air. He wouldn't voice the idea that Abby was actually the one who gave it to him--it was midterm season and she went to a public high school when she wasn't being a barista, after all. "Yeah, I don't think you'd last very long anyway. What's his face, Scary Regular? The paralegal guy? He'd have driven you home himself, or something. You look like shit."

Mariano laughed, and Bastian felt how his breath caught, his hand shuddering with Mariano's chest as he struggled against another coughing fit.

"Relax. Relax, this is supposed to help with that. I have you." Bastian murmured, wincing as Mariano fell into another strangling fit that forced him to curl in on himself. Bastian held him as he did, kissing the back of his head. "You're gonna be okay."

When it finally released Mariano, he leaned back with a hoarse groan. He didn't complain when Bastian's claws slid through his hair, drawing tension from his shoulders and making his eyes slide shut. Bastian kept going, carefully combing through Mariano's sweat-damp hair and listening as every coughing fit started to sound less and less like it might be Mariano's last.

Bastian wasn't surprised when Mariano finally went still against him, just about boneless from how deep his exhaustion ran. "That's it, take a nap." He whispered, slowly reaching back to shut off the shower. "I'll always have you."

@whump-captain @whumpr @whumperofworlds @lektricwhump @cyberwhumper @bxtterflystxtches @inscrutable-shadow @honeybees-125

#whumpril2024 #whumprilday16 #day 16 #coughing fit #illness #fever #mage of violence #dragon of diamond #something soft and sweet that's been eating me alive all day #All I want is a handsome dragon to baby me when I'm sick and that's a lot to ask but like I think I've earned it

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byler-alarmist · 8 months

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So I know we collectively hate time reset/dimension wipe theories about S5, but.....maybe it does need to happen?

Assuming the last couple seasons of ST weren't some elaborate manifestation by Mike to deal with the trauma of losing Will, there are some problems that seem like they can't be fixed without some kind of a reset.

El. Just El in general. Owens was able to give her a fresh start, a new name and a chance at being "normal", However, too many people know about her telekinetic abilities and the ability to open and close gates to the Upside Down. I think she would be in danger of being kidnapped and studied/used as a weapon forever. She can't just kill off/destroy the entire U.S. government (if only), so her file will probably be available for years and even if not, enough people know about her existence that bad actors could target her.

Now that the UD is merging with the RU, will it be contained to Hawkins? Will it spread throughout the country? The world? Even if it is all a hive mind, if they killed Vecna and somehow closed all the gates (it exhausts El to even close one) , would those spores or whatever still be floating around and infecting things in the RU? How could they ever get rid of all of it or ensure that it was all contained in the UD?

As long as both the UD and El exist, even if Vecna is defeated, scientists/governments will always track her because trhey will want to know more about/study/find lucrative applications for the UD. They would still want to use El or use her to find their own way to open gates.

If all this is true and Will/El/the Party need to destroy the UD to make sure no one ever crosses over again, is that really fair? Even if Vecna harnessed the dark particles and created dangerous monsters out for blood, it is hinted that the UD is not inherently malicious. Sure, the Party want to kill Vecna, but if he's gone and the creatures are just minding their own business, would they be fine with destroying it?

And even if they wanted to, could they? How? If it turns out we're right about Will having powers, how would he use them to destroy the Upside Down? I highly doubt his powers would be like El's or involve gates. If he had some kind of creation powers, would he just recreate the UD with glowy light particles and make it beautiful? But even if he did this, wouldn't scientists still want to find a way inside to study it with El"s gate-opening powers?

On the other hand if he (or someone else) has some kind of time powers,, when would they reset it back to? Or what would they go back in time to change? Is there something out of space and time that doesn't belong? (Somehow I am reminded of El saying she doesn't belong anywhere).

If Will or someone else wiped out the dimension that contains the UD (or banished it to another dimension), MKUltra would still have been doing their telekinetic children experiments, right? And if they went back in time, how far back would they have had to go? Back before Henry was taken to Brenner? Would El have been created at all if her mother wasn't part of the MKultra experiments?

Bonus thoughts about a reset: we know how much the Duffers love The Neverending Story. Spoilers for Neverending Story after the cut:

At the end of the Neverending Story movie, Fantasia (the world of fantasies and dreams a bowlcut kid has been reading about in his book) is destroyed by the manifestation of emptiness that is the Nothing. Bastian ({the bowlcut kid) realizes he has the power to make Fantasia (the world of his fantasies) anything he dreams.

After he takes ownership of his role as master of this reality (by giving rhe Childlike Empress a new name 🤔), the entire world of Fantasia is wiped out and it's just Bastian and the Empress together in a black void. All that remains is one grain of sand (a glowing particle, if you will).

The Empress hands the particle to Bastian and tells him his wishes will recreate Fantasia. He recreates it the way he imagined it, and notably brings back all the people who died as a result of the Nothing.

Even more tellingly, he exclaims:

"It's like the Nothing never was!!"

👀👀👀👀

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pyrrhiccomedy · 2 months

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How’s Tomassin doing? Besides, you know, wretched.

Surprisingly good actually? He's fallen in love with Innokenti, that blind and wild fairy-knight; who loves him in return. Bastian set them up, on the queer intuition that the two loneliest people he knew might have something meaningful to offer each other, despite their obvious differences.

It's very hard for Tomassin to be loved. It goes against the grain of that flinching thing at his heart to take up that much space in the world, to anyone. He will love - in quiet, aching solitude - very easily, and never ask for anything, or give any indication of his feelings. But how could he allow anyone to love him - blighted aberration that he is? How could that not be a great and selfish unkindness? What future could he offer someone, when he is on a forced march to kneel at God's feet and accept a seal of condemnation? How could he let someone open up a country in their heart for him, when he knows the touch of his feet upon its soil would poison the ground with salt?

But Innokenti had a blunt counter to all of Tomassin's objections: and had the nimbleness of mind, and perverse persistence, to make his case. Oh, you think you'd salt the earth inside his heart? Salt it, then: nothing grows here already, not anymore. At least you would be one living thing, in this vast and barren continent. Oh, you are afraid you couldn't offer him a future? He is fairy - what is the future to him? He lives in an endless present, and never thinks about tomorrow. You think you are condemned by your God: Innokenti has already been abandoned by his. He won't say that's not true or God doesn't hate you, Tomassin. What does he know about the Christian God? You could well be right. But he can hold your hand, in the darkness outside of salvation: and we could be a comfort to each other.

They've been very good for each other, since their love has been acknowledged between them. Innokenti has made Tomassin more comfortable in his own skin, more willing to speak up and less mortified to take up space; and Tomassin has made Innokenti more grounded, more patient, and more thoughtful. They are nearly inseparable, these days, and Tomassin's grief and shame over the unavoidable circumstance of his own existence has been undeniably, a little, alleviated.

#heretic #something nice actually happened to Tomassin!#Tomassin and Innokenti were absolutely the two most miserable people Bastian had ever met #and even though they couldn't appear to be more different -#Tomassin a quiet and haunted and faithful priest whose gentleness is so complete that he wouldn't defend himself against his own kidnappers #and Innokenti a drinking whoring wildly reckless pagan with a penchant for violence #Bastian saw something deeper in both of them that suggested they might be good for each other #they are both deeply philosophical - deeply spiritual - deeply in different ways engaged in radical empathy #their loneliness and grief and certainty that they exist outside of a sublime order that they long to be a part of was shared #but the religions and orders they believe in are so different that they would be unable to judge each other -#while completely honoring each other's devotion and faith #Tomassin doesn't vibe with Innokenti's druidism any more than Innokenti vibes with christianity #but both perceive their delicate pursuit of syncretism as a generous act of profound romance #dice matters

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ystrike1 · 1 year

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The Secret Bedroom of the Forsaken Princess - By Hyeni (8/10)

The author chose to take alot of risks here. Everybody is kind of an asshole in this story, and that's great, but then the ending is really safe and bland. It's not really worth it. There's a ton of buildup. There's a big betrayal, but then the villains just get forgiven. The madness ends with marriage and children.

Princess Llewelyn is not well liked. Her dad is dead. Her mom is "dead", and Queen Dowager Pamela hates her guts. She has a half brother named Bastian, who definitely isn't secretly illegitimate, so she's worthless now. Pamela makes everybody bully her. Llewelyn wants to become a nun and live quietly, but Bastian won't have it. He's King now and he refuses to give her royal permission to give up her title. She has to wait until she is twenty five. Bastian would rather see her live a happy and lazy life, preferably somewhere near him.

There's definitely not something wrong with Bastian don't worry about it.

Poor Llewelyn. She is under a curse. A lust curse. She's been using magical cooling stones to curb her urges, but she's scared. If she gets caught she cannot become a nun. She would most likely get roped into marrying the first man she jumps. She's got very little power. Sex equals an awful future for her, but she wants to do it really bad. Being alone helps, so she pushes everyone away with insults. Nobody is willing to keep secrets for her. She can't trust anybody.

Except Tristan. Tristan is a very loyal knight, who doesn't really know Llewelyn personally. He just cares about the royal family and the country. He gets closer to her when he finds her by accident. Sadly, the curse does force Llewelyn to bed a man. She doesn't even remember who it is after. Tristan is the one that safely carries her back to her chamber.

Yeah. Do I even need to tell you? Duke Almondite is the endgame guy. Her future husband. He's her childhood friend. He's a hero that recently defeated a group of dark magicians. He's famous across the land. He's handsome. When Llewelyn's mother was still alive they were best friends. Almond boy proposed with a rose, and he doesn't understand why Llewelyn hates him now.

He's kinda dumb...or misinformed. Llewelyn's mother was executed for trying to poison Bastion. She kinda sucks. She didn't actually die. Her execution was ordered, but it was all a plot. Llewelyn's mom didn't love the king. She faked her own death to run away with her lover, which is such a dick move. Llewelyn has been suffering under her stepmother for a long time. She doesn't even have guards and she sleeps in an empty annex. All while her mother lives lavishly in a foreign country. By the way Llewelyn genuinely loved her mom, and she is traumatized by her "death". Llewelyn believes that Almond boy is part of the reason why she was "executed". So, basically her mom's bullshit ruined her first love, her entire childhood, and her position as princess.

Almond boy is the man she slept with that night, when she lost control. Almondite has loved her for a long time. He didn't know about the curse. He thought his lady love was finally returning his feelings, so he did have sex with her. He proposes soon after, and Llewelyn remembers everything.

She laughs at him, and says she slept with him in an attempt to soil his reputation.

He's shocked, but he keeps trying to rope her into marrying him.

Almond boy is pretty fucked up by the way. He actually does plot with Pamela at one point. The evil abuser lady. He straight up betrays Llewelyn. He really wants to marry Llewelyn, weather she likes it or not. She really doesn't trust him. He tries to use Pamela's influence as Queen Dowager to force a wedding. He pressures Llewelyn with gifts and public shows of devotion as well. He's kind of obsessed, but he's also kind of a huge dick. I'm honestly shocked that he's...it. He's the man she picks. It makes no sense.

This is the son of the pope, Ernell. He's an excellent character that reveals a lot of great world building. Remember the black magic people that cursed Llewelyn? Those are magicians who dared to act without his permission. The holy pope and his son are secretly IN CHARGE of the dark side of magic. Their public image is very pious and political, but behind closed doors both father and son are violent men of war. No one outside of their organization knows, because the title of pope is such a good mask.

Llewelyn sleeps with him next. She sleeps with lots of men. Lust curse. It's for the plot.

Ernell decides that her favors her. He's very passionate and somewhat scary. His servants are very afraid of him, because he secretly controls the underworld after all. Tristan and Ernell are both entertaining. I kind of forgot about Almond boy. Ernell vows to remove her curse, and he does alot of shady shit to figure out what happened. He wants to kill the foolish magicians who acted on their own, and he's extra mad because on top of that he likes the princess.

Ernell helps Llewelyn figure shit out. Pamela and Bastion cursed her with a couple of hired black magic users. Bastian also killed the old King. Bastian also has two sides. There's some kind of curse in him too. He has a dark side. He's been plotting to keep Llewelyn in the castle with him, forever, which is fucked up for about a million reasons. He knows Pamela is abusive, but whatever. Bastian has complicated feelings for his "sister". He doesn't want to let her out of his sight.

He gets defeated.

Pamela had sex with another man who looked like the king, so she could put a fake on the throne and have power.

You know what that means.

Llewelyn is the only real royal heir. Bastian gets purified. Pamela gets punished. Bastian is a harmless wimp without his dark side curse. Without it he conveniently has no desire to rule, and he's very sorry for the trouble he caused.

Llewelyn marries Almondite, which makes him the real king for real. They have kids. The end.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #smut

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chocolatte-and-despair · 7 months

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Can i ask for a NSFW alphabet of Yandere Piglin? Yeah, i'm simping for a pig man that is a gold digger :)

18+ CONTENT UP AHEAD! Minors advised to avoid reading this <33

Warning: gender-neutral reader, amab genitals hinted at (can be read as having a strap on, as it's not specified), switch reader, service top Dekos,

A = Aftercare

Dekos, like most piglins, is very territorial. That's why, after consummating your love in such an intimate way, he will be letting you leave his side, holding you close in his arms, muttering sweet little nothings, while also apologizing if he was too rough and making sure that your body is alright if you're not a piglin. He knows that most other races are much weaker than piglins after all.

B = Body part

Dekos favorite part of himself is his hair. For piglins, hair represents your position in your tribe. Long hair is usually only allowed for mighty warriors, that's why Dekos is very proud of his long hair, and usually dislikes it when you try to pull on it.

His favorite part of you are your hands. No matter how small or big you are, compared to him, your hands are much smaller, and he adores touching them, feeling the difference between you two. His calloused fingers always feel so lovely on your skin, after all.

C = Cum

Dekos is a little old-fashioned when it comes to cum, so he will never think about stuff like oral sex. It doesn't matter if he's the one topping or if you are doing it, he prefers to cum inside or have his partner cum inside him.

D = Dirty Secret

Dekos dirtiest fantasy is to claim you in front of his tribe. His fantasies alternate, sometimes him fucking you in front of everyone who keeps eyeing you, knowing that they want you, while sometimes desiring you to prove your love to him by pushing him down in the middle of the Bastian and fucking him, showing to everyone that you need no one else for pleasure.

E = Experience

Piglins mate for life and only engage in sexual behavior with mates because of their high fertility, so Dekos has not had any experience with sexual stuff before. You're his first and only one, but most Piglins are taught through textbooks and elders about the art of pleasure, so it's not that he is completely clueless.

F = Favourite Position

If he's the one that is topping, it would be the mating press. Dekos wants you to feel as much of his as possible, and he sometimes loses control from the desire to mark you up, so don't forget to make a safe word before anything happens.

If you're topping, he loves riding you. He wants you to feel good. Just lay down and let him make you feel good. If you also communicate how each of his moves makes you feel, you can bet that he will be able to easily cum without being touched.

G = Goofy

Dekos is very romantic, yet almost primal at this moment. The fact you are so much smaller than him makes him want to completely devour you, and make you his. He can't help him, the way you look at him from below just drives him crazy, he can't think straight.

H = Hair

As stated in a previous letter, Dekos is absolutely obsessed with his hair. He had earned his right to have long hair, alongside his scars, so he takes care of grooming himself, all throughout his body. You might think a tribe of warriors doesn't care much about hygiene, but you are wrong.

I = Intimacy

Dekos is like a beast that has been starved and you're the first slice of meat he has seen in days. Dekos can lose himself completely, which might lead to him accidentally hurting you, that's why it's highly advised for you to have a safe word, or better yet, take the lead in the bedroom.

J = Jack Off

Dekos comes from a culture that is against giving into your sexual desires unless you are committing them with your partner, so he will not masturbate, unless you bring it up first, in a situation where you want to watch him masturbating.

K = Kink

Breeding. Most Piglins desire to pass on their genes and create another powerful warrior, that's why, is it that strange for Dekos to desire to breed you?

L = Location

Besides his secret fantasy, Dekos is a very simple man. He desires to do it in the privacy of his home, where he can do what he wishes with you, without having to worry about anyone seeing you in a way that would make Dekos need to kill a tribemate.

M = Motivation

There is nothing more arousing for Dekos than to see you stand up for him. If someone in his tribe badmouths him or says he doesn't deserve to become the next leader, and you stand up for him, you can bet he is dragging you back home after you're done. You're not getting out of his grasp for hours.

N = NO

Cucking. Listen, if you wanted him to kill someone for you, you just had to tell him. There is no need for you to dirty yourself.

O = Oral

When you bring up the topic of oral, he is completely obsessed with servicing you. The idea of having so much control over your pleasure is a power trip for Dekos. Though, he is not a fan of receiving oral. You're so small compared to him, your little mouth must hurt trying to pleasure him. He always feels so worried, that he can't focus on the pleasure.

P = Pace

If you don't get control over him fast, and let him do whatever he wants, he is fast and very aggressive. And trust me, he has the stamina to keep up that pace for hours. No matter how much you think you can endure, a brutal fucking that lasts hours, of you getting drained every few minutes, you won't be able to leave this without passing out or getting very hurt. And chances are, he won't notice you're out until it's too late.

Q = Quickie

The only way you're getting a quickie out of him is if you're pushing him into a wall, and pounding him. If he's initiating, he's not stopping without at least a few hours being spent on this.

R = Risk

He will never bring up experimenting, as he doesn't care for it. If he could do the same thing over and over again for years, he wouldn't mind. So, if you want to experiment, you'll have to bring it up and have a conversation with him.

#yandere minecraft imagines #yandere imagines #minecraft imagines #yandere minecraft headcanons #yandere headcanons #minecraft headcanons #yandere minecraft #yandere #piglin #yandere piglin #big boy content

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inscrutable-shadow · 4 months

Text

only then i am human (only then i am clean) - part one

contains: mild horniness, homoerotic blood drinking, minor nausea (no vomiting), swearing, gore, a disgusting amount of gay pining, whumptober 2023 days 11, 20, and 30 (animal trap, "you will regret touching them," bridal carry)

summary: The Culling War is over, and Thanatos is not the same.

Mariano doesn't have a same to go back to.

Bastian just hopes that he won't have to kill Thanatos when the vampire's ravenous hunger finally takes over.

It's been far too long since Thanatos has had a good meal, after all, and he loves getting himself in hot water.

beginning notes: whoo-wee! i started this as a whumptober fill, and it still is that, but it’s also so, so much more than that now. four times the size and now part of a series i hope to continue in the coming months. so many thanks to @crash-bump-bring-the-whump for letting me borrow his characters, fill his dms with screaming and gay shenanigans at all hours, and for betaing! i have so much more planned for our boys after this so stay tuned :)

also available on ao3! even though i've broken the fic into two, this section is 7.3k words so you might enjoy it more there. (plus you get the ending a day early)

Thanatos was rather surprised at how much fun he was having. When Madame Nocta had initially shown him his redistricting papers, he’d had to step out of the room to stop the choking panic from clawing at his insides. The image of his old life, of returning to his job and his apartment and his lover after so long away, had been the only thing keeping him going for so long that the idea of changing that image made him sick. “It’ll be quiet,” she’d assured him. “No one will know what you are. You can relax, recover. It will be good for you.” Thanatos hadn’t believed her, but now, as the damp wind ruffled his hair and sent ripples over the nearby lake, he was forced to admit this world was rather quaint.

He could almost convince himself it was just like home, at least, before the “engine of progress” had compressed every ounce of magic from the land. The countryside was littered with small villages of wood and stone instead of towering metropoles of metal and glass. The air held none of the heavy odour of burning oil; if anything, it crackled and pulsed with magic in the way the ancient forests had when the fae still inhabited them. If it weren’t for the various ruins that evoked to those in the know the aura of an advanced society, he would have believed it was the ninth century again. Wandering from place to place, offering his eyes, his voice, and his stories to anyone who could use him in exchange for a few coins, and flirting with people in taverns, it was quite akin to the way he’d lived before he’d met the Archfey. One could almost call it idyllic.

“Hey, Thanatos! There you are,” a voice called from behind him, and he turned to see Bastian pushing through the market crowd toward him. “Thought I’d lost you for a bit. Crowd too much for you?”

There was one major difference between this world and his own, and here was a prime example of it: one could tell just by looking that Bastian was a dragon. If the prismatic hair and the horns weren’t a dead giveaway, the shimmering scales certainly were. He wasn’t the only one, either. A vampire blended right in among the varying peoples of this world, and Thanatos didn’t even bother to wear the glasses that obscured his eye color and slitted pupils anymore. He still became rather on edge in the market crowds, but even that he was doing much better with than he had a month ago. He’d been able to drift from stall to stall with the crowd for almost an hour before he’d felt claustrophobic.

Thanatos nodded acknowledgement of Bastian’s presence and alighted from the fencepost. “I just needed some air. Find everything you wanted?” If he recalled correctly, they were supposed to be replenishing supplies after an unfortunate encounter with a river (that had not at all been Thanatos’s fault).

Bastian only shrugged. “He’s the one shopping. Weather’s turning. Ought to get back together with Mariano and head out before it gets too bright for you.”

The sun here burned much brighter than Thanatos was used to, and even cloudy days pricked uncomfortably at his skin. The locals had been kind to him, though, and no one had hesitated to offer him shelter or clothing or food that he inevitably had to refuse. The hat that he was wearing and had reinforced with a layer of Shadow had been forced upon him by a kindly old woman who had noticed his discomfort while he was carrying her shopping for her on a not-so-cloudy afternoon. She couldn’t have known that his refusal to put a square millimetre of exposed skin in direct sunlight was an aversion to screaming immolation and subsequent death, but she’d pushed her hat onto his head anyway, and called him a sweet young man who needed to take better care of himself. That sort of behaviour had by far been the norm, and for that, he was grateful.

“That little basket all you’re getting?” Bastian asked, edging a hand under the fabric cover, but pulling it back when Thanatos swatted at it.

“The two of you have been very kind. I thought that perhaps I could repay the favour by taking care of dinner for tonight.” It had been a long while since he’d had to cook anything, but he still remembered some of the things his mother had taught him, oh so long ago, and he felt the need to provide something other than diverting conversation for once.

Bastian walked ahead of him in the crowd, forging a less constricted path for Thanatos to follow as the pair threaded their way back to the meeting point. “You don’t even eat. How’re you gonna know if it’s any good?”

“I’ll just have to have you taste for me.”

“Sure thing.” The dragon grinned in that toothy way of his, and Thanatos allowed himself a small one in return.

He’d come out to the two of them during the second week. Not about his taste for men: the reality of that oozed from his pores and was apparent in every movement. The wistful stares he threw at every young man who looked even a bit like the Archfey left little room for doubt. About his taste for blood. Thanatos had violated Clandestine Accord and clued two mortals in on the fact that he was a vampire. It hadn’t phased them at all. There were very few things that could rattle Mariano, and Bastian was a dragon. A vampire wasn’t a threat, and so he didn’t care. Thanatos had felt silly for even being slightly anxious about it. The way they looked at each other, talked to each other, to him, he just knew. They’d felt safe. Thanatos hadn’t felt safe in decades. Not since the Culling War.

Twenty-five years of paranoia had turned an easygoing, charismatic Thanatos into a nervous wreck of a man who jumped at every shadow. He’d heard Tenebrus and the Council talking about him: the psychological effects of his job had made him nearly useless at it, and they were planning to replace him. The war had ended before they had the chance, but still. He knew he wasn’t the same man his Archfey had fallen in love with. That thought alone made him want to shatter into a thousand porcelain fragments, but living here had started to fill in the jagged gouges the war had left on his soul. The people were kinder, didn’t treat him like a monster even when they couldn’t know he was one. (Not like home. On Earth Four, even the slightest deviation from the norm had put him at risk of discovery.) He wasn’t constantly on the defensive anymore.

The crowd opened up a bit, and he could now see slightly further ahead. Ah, there was Mariano. His dark hair rose up above most of the bobbing heads of the market-goers, and the soft lines of his face were broken slightly by a brow furrowed in concentration. Comparing products, perhaps? He’s rather particular about the supplies. He was still deep in discussion with a shopkeeper, though from the amount he was carrying, it seemed as if he must be nearly done with his shopping. “I’ll be right back, found something I want to pick up,” Bastian leaned down to whisper in his ear, melting into the crowd again before Thanatos could even respond. He felt a bit nervous in the crowd by himself, but he could see Mariano, at least, and the hat would probably make him easy enough to find again. He found a quiet spot between two stalls, where he was offered a seat and an apple by an old woman selling fruit. With a smile, he accepted the former, but of course not the latter.

The market had been set up in the hollow shell of some ancient building, and most of the shops on this side of the square were peddling foodstuffs of some kind, set up on the raised ground on either side of the makeshift thoroughfare created by the terrain. This particular ruin gave Thanatos the nagging sensation that he was late to catch a train. He supposed it’d be a long time before he saw another train, given his reassignment. It would have been strange to go back to his Earth after a quarter-century of war, anyhow, let alone live in the cottage without the Archfey. He wasn’t even sure he knew how to fit himself back into a fast-paced mortal society now that he’d had the fear of other people forcibly drilled into him. There hadn’t been a moment in the last decade or so when he hadn’t been acutely wary of other vampires out to give him a glowing recommendation to the nearest Reaper. Relax, Than. There aren’t any other vampires in this area, he reminded himself. He had a hundred miles of clearance before he encroached on anyone else’s hunting grounds. Anyone who wanted to mess with him would have Mariano to contend with, anyhow. No one had got through him yet.

“Do you like it?”

“Hm?”

The laugh was like birdsong, and it came from a girl, about nineteen, behind the fruit stand, helping the old woman set out more goods. “You were staring, mister. Do you like the hairpin? My mother made it for me.” Like most of the denizens here, her skin was a deep ochre, with matching eyes that held a mischievous smile and an effortless charm.

He had been staring; he realised. The pin was an array of jasmine-like blooms on a fastening of ebony and amethyst. It looked like something the Archfey would have worn, not in the early days of their relationship when they’d been doing the courtship dance of fey prince and vampire, no, this was something ae would have worn to a coffeehouse date or to the cinema, a coy reminder of the power that lurked behind the mortal disguise. Thanatos summoned up a smile and gave a wry chuckle, hoping his expression didn’t seem tortured. “You remind me of someone, that’s all.” Oh. It was easier than he’d expected to become the charming vampire once again. Maybe he really was getting better.

The girl returned his smile. “Someone you like?” She turned away a little, then met his eyes again.

“Someone I love.”

The grief must have shown through in his eyes for a moment, because the girl’s smile turned sad. “What happened to them?”

He hesitated, deciding how much of his pain was worth pouring out to a stranger. “Gone. Said they would return, but, well. I’ve had to move, and I fear we may never be reunited.” His gaze drifted away toward the shifting clouds. Bastian was right. The weather would clear up soon.

“Take it then,” she said, and his brow furrowed as his eyes returned to look at her. She took his hand in hers and pressed the pin into it. “My mother made it as a good-luck charm. Maybe it will bring the two of you back together.”

Why would she give something like that to a stranger? Part of him wondered if it might be some sort of trap, but he pushed the thought away. Humans weren’t like vampires. Every gesture of goodwill wasn’t a secret power play with them. Sometimes they did these things on a whim, or even out of kindness. It was a foolish thing for her to do, though, so he demurred. “Oh, miss, I couldn’t possibly take such a precious heirloom—”

“Surely you won’t refuse a gift,” she countered, and the expression of mischief on her face melted the last of the ice in his heart. Maybe things truly were looking up.

Thanatos bowed. “Then I shall graciously accept. However,” he added, setting his basket down for a moment, “allow me to return the favour. A charm for a charm. My partner gave this to me a long time ago. It, too, is good luck. May it bring you winds of fortune.” He removed the earring from his right ear, a dangle shaped vaguely like a wreath. In truth, it was a ritual sigil, one of the Archfey’s smallest and subtlest protection blessings. Woven directly from aer magic into metal, he’d worn it for almost two hundred years, and he credited his continued existence a significant amount to the Archfey’s protection rather than any qualities he himself possessed. For a moment, he questioned why he would give away something so precious on a whim, but the girl’s gift had struck a chord with him, made him feel as if the dark days might be over. That was worth the loss of the charm.

The young woman accepted the earring and worked into her own ear, and the two of them shared a smile, and a laugh, and a blush. One couldn’t fault Thanatos for finding comfort in the sweet moment, but of course, the universe saw fit to punish him for allowing himself to relax. “The fuck you think you’re doing, dipshit?” a gruff voice called from behind him. And here we go.

He went for his usual disarming smile. “Ah, you must be the boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” the young lady corrected mildly. Of course he was.

The fiancé in question wasted no time in invading Thanatos’s personal space. “You gotta be stupid to chat up another man’s girl like that.” He folded his arms, probably trying to look intimidating. It was sort of working.

Thanatos’s eyebrows raised. “If that’s what you think flirting looks like, my condolences to your lady-love. I was nothing more than cordial. Aren’t you just the strapping young man though,” he purred. “I cannot fault the lady’s taste.” Now that was flirting. The tried-and-true Thanatos method of getting out of this sort of tight spot was to play up his flamboyance until their discomfort outweighed their indignation. “Baffle them with his bullshit,” as it were. It usually worked long enough for him to work out some method of escape.

“Leave it, Javier. He’s not bothering me. We were just talking,” the girl said, annoyed.

Javier was not dissuaded. “I don’t want random guys feeling like they can talk to you, Violetta. And that didn’t look like talking.”

Thanatos saw this as a chance to cut back in. “I assure you, I have no interest in absconding with your sweetheart. My intentions with her were purely platonic, for my tastes lie elsewhere, if you take my meaning.”

From the way Javier picked him up by his collar, Thanatos got the idea that he might not have understood some of those words. “Are you saying you don’t think she’s pretty? Take it back right now!”

Oh, by the celestial river… Annoyance ignited in Thanatos’s chest, and he was firing back before he could think about it. “I didn’t say she wasn’t pretty, you oaf. I said I was fucking gay! By the Divines, humans grow ever more stupid. I’m married too, if it matters—”

“Is there a problem here?” Oh, thank fuck. Mariano, his knight in shining armour once again. Part of him orchestrated these scenarios intentionally just to have a chance to see the mage work. Bastian was hanging back, presumably to watch the show. He gave Thanatos a little wave and a grin and appeared to have found himself some sort of drink. Typical Bastian.

Javier looked Mariano up and down. Tall and broad, the dark-skinned mage certainly carried his share of scars, from the clearly deliberate burns on his arms to the blade-mark under his jawline. Thanatos thought it added charm to the soft lines of Mariano’s face, especially when he smiled, which was often if Thanatos had anything to do with it. He was not smiling now. Mariano’s default expression was blank, unreadable, which combined with the silver-white pact rings around his dark irises and his subtle but not-insignificant musculature lent him quite the imposing air. Even behind the dark-rimmed glasses, it was clear that Mariano was not a man to be trifled with.

Undeterred, likely due to a lack of basic survival instinct, Javier pressed on. “Sure is. Your friend here’s about to eat shit for fucking with my girl. Unless you’d like to eat it for him?” Now, that was borderline suicidal. If he hadn’t known Mariano as well as he did, Thanatos would have expected a bloodbath.

Mariano looked up at Thanatos, still dangling in the air with an expression that read “I’m sorry, please save me again.” He didn’t speak, just removed his casting dagger from his belt, held it up, and ignited the blade, his war mage’s magic shooting up through the hilt and heating the metal until it glowed. A single eyebrow shifted, challenging Javier to try him.

“You really don’t want to fight him,” Thanatos supplied, helpfully.

Javier looked as if he might try it anyway, but Violetta read the situation correctly. Smart girl. “Let’s just go, Javier. I’m fine, it’s not worth it!” she implored, pulling on his arm.

A moment’s hesitation, then the brute relented. “Whatever,” he spat, and threw Thanatos down. The vampire sat down hard in the dirt, hat askew, but that was better than having his neck wrung on what had otherwise been a fairly pleasant afternoon. His basket was down here too, fortunately undamaged. “Let’s go, Violetta.” Javier stalked off, pushing through the crowd.

Thanatos let out a heavy sigh of relief. He took the hand Mariano stretched down toward him and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. “You okay?” Mariano asked, observing his slanted hat and open collar. Thanatos felt the heat rising in his face.

He cleared his throat. “Quite all right, thanks to you, once again. Just in time, too.” He had to stop doing this. As entertaining as it was to be rescued time and time again, the risk to his person was too high. Mariano might save him, but not necessarily before he was seriously damaged.

“You have to stop doing this, I’m not always going to show up right when you need me, you know.” Mariano picked up the basket from the ground and handed it to Thanatos, who suddenly thought he might repeat the whole procedure again tomorrow.

“Oh, but you do it so well! The spectacle, the cinema! You play quite the dashing hero,” he enthused, attempting to distract from how hot he suddenly felt under his silk shirt.

Mariano looked away, probably looking for his dragon in the crowd. It was difficult to tell with Mariano, but Thanatos got the idea he might have said something wrong. Fortunately for him, Bastian returned, amused as usual. “Thought you were going to teach him a lesson. Too bad you let him get away.”

“Wasn’t worth it.” Mariano shrugged. “He was just a blowhard, and I’m sure Than started it, anyway.” He accepted his bag back from Bastian and instinctively sorted through it, as was his habit.

“I’m sure I resent that remark!” Thanatos spluttered, but before he could really get going with his retort, Violetta pushed her way back through the crowd toward them.

“I’m sorry about him. You didn’t deserve that. I should go, but here, take this. For your friend with the pretty eyes.” She pressed a meat bun into his hand and vanished again.

Thanatos blinked in momentary confusion, then held the pastry out to Mariano, who also seemed confused. “Me?”

“I think it’s relatively clear she didn’t mean Bastian. No offense meant, of course.”

Bastian grinned. “None taken. Eat it, Mariano, looks good. If you won’t, I will.”

“But your eyes-” Mariano began, meaning Thanatos’s crimson ones rather than Bastian’s white-silver.

“Oh? Taken your fancy, have they?” It came out more flirtatious than he’d intended, he was having trouble shaking off the performance. “Alluring as they may be, I already have a gift from the lady, and I can’t eat it anyhow. Take the bread and the compliment, mortal mage.” One would have to be blind to fail to acknowledge that Mariano was attractive, in Thanatos’s opinion, but Mariano didn’t seem to process it the same way.

“I- okay.” He didn’t seem convinced, but he always looked like that.

Better to just distract him, then. “Good show, Mariano. Another innocent man rescued, another reward earned. Let’s move on before I am reduced to ash, eh?” That was something he was actually worried about, not just a diversionary tactic. The clouds were moving uncomfortably quickly, hurried on by the wind.

“Wouldn’t want to have to scoop him up off of the ground. That’d take ages,” Bastian joked. Mariano laughed, and all was right with the world again.

As Bastian had predicted, the sky was nearly clear when the sun finally slipped below the horizon. The particular corner of the glade where they had built the fire was sufficiently shaded for Thanatos not to have to focus on protecting himself from the light. Not that he had much else to do than leaf through his well-worn copy of Theogonia, which had managed to survive the war tucked into a corner of his briefcase. He didn’t need to read the pages anymore, so many times had he been over these same words in the two thousand years since this particular edition had been published, but turning the leaves and skimming the familiar passages was of comfort to him, a habit he’d developed to unwind after a long day. The woods were quiet except for the soft chirping of insects and the scrape of Mariano’s knife against the whetstone.

“Is it done yet?” This was the fourth time Bastian had asked in the last hour. Thanatos didn’t blame him. The tantalising aroma of slow-cooked meat rising from the stew pot filled the air and stimulated the appetite. His sense of smell had shifted since becoming a vampire, but if one thing had remained the same, the scent still took him back to his childhood, helping his mother by the stove.

“Not quite.” Thanatos gave the pot a stir and tested the meat with the spoon. “About ten more minutes.”

Bastian groaned. “That’s what you said ten minutes ago.”

“No, ten minutes ago I said twenty minutes.”

“Fifteen,” said Mariano, inspecting the blade’s edge in the firelight.

“Hm?” It was the first time Mariano had spoken in an hour or so. Thanatos hadn’t even known he was listening.

The scraping resumed. “You said fifteen minutes. Ten minutes ago.”

“Did I?” Thanatos couldn’t recall, but if Mariano thought so, it must be true.

“Yeah.” There was a beat of silence, and then the rustle of a page and the scrape of the whetstone.

The pot simmered happily despite Bastian’s impatient scrutiny. “Can’t we just eat it now?”

Mariano laughed. “I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait, Bastian. We can’t all eat raw meat, you know. Though maybe next time pick something that doesn’t take as long, Than.”

Thanatos gave a snort of mock-indignation. “Genius cannot be rushed, mortal mage. This is an heirloom recipe passed down to me by my mother.” They’d had servants to cook for them, of course. A magistrate’s wife would never have been expected to do that sort of thing, but Thanatos’s mother had loved every part of the process from selecting ingredients to serving. She’d taught him to cut vegetables and to know when meat was tender. It was incredibly rare for him to need to use those skills, but his hands knew what to do. In a way, it was as if his mother was still alive.

True to his estimate, the stew was ready in about ten minutes. Bastian would have been happy to eat the meat before it was cooked, and if Thanatos was careful, he could sip at the tomato base without making himself ill, but it was Mariano’s opinion that mattered.

Fortunately, the mage’s first spoonful earned a smile. “It’s good!”

Thanatos sighed with relief. “I’m glad you find it so. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve had the occasion to cook, you understand.”

“It doesn’t show. It’s just too bad you can’t taste it,” Mariano said, attacking another spoonful. That dispelled the last of Thanatos’s worries that he was just saying it to be nice. Even if that would have been out of character for someone so straightforward, the apprehension was habitual.

“Oh, I remember it well enough. Enjoy it in my stead.”

“Doesn’t it make you hungry, watching other people eat?” Bastian mused, though most of his attention was caught up in finding more bits of tender meat to fish out of the stew, which Thanatos took as a victory.

He shrugged. “Mortal food is, at best, unappetizing to me at this point. My senses of taste and smell are so altered that it doesn’t register to my mind as consumable.” He was hungry, though, he realised. It had been three days since he’d eaten last: though he’d gone out yesterday and the day before, he’d been unlucky and had found no one else wandering the wilds.

House Iuventae contracts rarely came with non-sapient sustenance clauses. The Shadow could tell the difference, and if Thanatos tried to cheat, it would punish him for it with days of nausea and cramps. It was for that reason that he preferred to eat every other day if he could. A human could survive a litre of blood loss much more easily than two or three. It looked as if he’d actually have to kill today if he didn’t want to lose control of himself later, though. He’d made peace with the concept millennia ago — or so he told himself, but drinking only prepared blood during the war had brought back a vague discomfort. Prudence told him to avoid specific details when discussing it with the others, regardless. He didn’t want to know what they’d truly think of him.

Oblivious to Thanatos’s introspection, Bastian had come up with a theory of his own. “But if you dried it out or whatever, made it into flour, couldn’t you make, say, blood bread or some shit like that?”

“Well, yes, actually. House Nocta does extensive research on alternative ways to prepare blood. Whether it’s edible depends on one’s specific contract. I have a special provision that allows me to consume most liquids, but anything solid makes me ill, blood-based or otherwise.” He didn’t regret it. He was happy to never taste cake again in exchange for still being able to drink wine. The stew he was sipping at was still rather flavourless, though.

“It’s so interesting that your people have found different ways to work with your condition,” said Mariano.

Was it? Thanatos had never thought so. “Necessity is the mother of invention. But enough about vampires. Shall I read you out a story tonight?”

This got Bastian’s attention. “Do the one with the king and the wild man. I like that one.”

“Ah, yes, the epic of Gilgamesh.” He didn’t have a copy of that one in his carpetbag, but he could do the first hour or so from memory, and pick up the book from the Archfey’s later if he needed it. (If he could bear it. The sight of the empty house had made him feel hollow the last time he’d been.) He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and when next he opened them, his voice had changed to that of the orator. “This is one of the oldest stories in the world, about two thousand years older than me, even. Translated from the tablets of an ancient civilization, large segments of the story are missing, but what we do have tells the story of a mighty king and his quest to discover the secret of immortality. Let me tell you of a man who had seen everything, whom the god Anu had granted all knowledge, who had seen secrets and hidden things, even from the time before the Flood.”

As usual, his audience was rapt, caught up by his words and taken to a time five millennia in the past, when giants walked the earth. He’d go hunting later in the evening, once the magic of ancient fable faded to that of the sandman’s sleep.

Thanatos leaned against a tree and tied his hair up into a low ponytail. He’d left his travelling jacket back at the camp as well, leaving him in just his silk shirt, tie, and trousers. The less restricted his movement was, the better, and it had the benefit of making him look younger and less careworn. He hated this, really. When he talked and laughed with Mariano and Bastian, he could pretend that he was perfectly ordinary, still fully human, but when he hunted, it was clear that he was anything but. He wasn’t even an ambush predator like Tenebrus or most other hunting vampires, the sharpening of his senses and the way his night vision flattened everything into shades of grey save for outlines of delicious scarlet around everything with a heartbeat was of little use to him. All it did was remind him how little humanity was left in him.

In his element, Thanatos was a honey trap, an attractive, confident, charismatic man whom others would gladly follow into a dark alley for a tryst — with perhaps a little hypnotic encouragement. It fit his personality quite well, and he’d been able to carve a niche out for himself in both vampiric society and back on Earth Four. He was the very picture of a Iuventus, a man of words taken with alcohol and sex and other pleasures of the flesh. Or at least he had been. Before everything. He wanted very badly to return to feeling like that man. (If he thought about it too hard, he’d realise that luring people into the night to be devoured was also rather monstrous, so he didn’t.)

Right now, his priority was to return to the village and civilization. He was still getting back into the rhythm of pursuing prey, hunting instead of being hunted. It felt good to be out at night instead of having to worry about the sun surprising him. He decided to just try to enjoy the sense of freedom. Moving at a vampire’s speed, the wind singing through his hair, the moonlight lightly caressing his skin. All the horrors of the war: the daily grind of waking up, infiltrating a location, and running away that made him feel as if the dust and grime of the road soaked into his soul. That was all behind him now. He was an ordinary vampire now, without obligations or debts, free to eat and sleep and do whatever else his heart desired.

He really should have learned his lesson from earlier in the day. Stay on your toes, don’t stop to enjoy things. Don’t dare believe you’re out of the woods. You developed that paranoia for a reason. It was his own fault he was now lying on his back on the forest floor, his ankle held fast by a metal cord. One moment, he’d been darting through the trees trying to cover distance, and the next his head had hit a tree root and sent stars exploding behind his eyes. How long had he been unconscious? Ten seconds or ten minutes?

The impact alone might have killed a mortal, but Thanatos was merely concussed. Confusedly, he tried to pull his ankle free, and only succeeded in tightening the cable around the unfortunate limb. He would leave this part out whenever he told the story afterward, but in truth, he panicked. The idea of being trapped again, being captured again, was too much for him. His nails scrabbled for purchase in the soft loam, fighting to take him somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t here. His vision tinted red, his own too-loud heartbeat overwhelming his heightened senses. It felt as if it were another person who was thrashing and kicking, desperately trying to get away and only tightening the wire until it cut down to the bone.

He flinched at the snap of a branch, close, too close. “Well, well. Look what I got here. You ain’t a cougar, are you, buddy?” The voice was rough and belonged to a banjo-string sort of man now crouching three metres away.

This should have been his salvation. If Thanatos had been in his right mind, he would have turned on the charm and begged this man for help. But no. He’d been hungry too long; his Shadow was too close to the surface, converting his stress response from fawn to flight. He didn’t even know what small indication he must have picked up on, or perhaps he truly was the animal for which the trap had been originally purposed — but before he knew it, he’d drawn back toward the tree, hissing and baring his fangs.

The man only grinned. “Who-wee, ain’t you a feisty one? Hold on, red eyes, dark hair… You’re the fucker Javier was tellin’ us about, tryin’ to muscle up on his girl. Oh, he’s gonna love this. What kind of freak are you, anyway, with teeth like that?” Oh, fucking fantastic. They’d set him up on a world where people didn’t believe in vampires, and here he was screwing it up. “Eh, doesn’t matter. Wait ’til I get Javier and the guys. It’s gonna be a riot! Not like you have much of a choice but to sit, though, huh?” The man laughed cruelly and wandered off.

Alone again. Thanatos was used to how this sort of thing went by now. The hunter would come back with a group of men, and they would kick Thanatos around until they were tired of him, and then they would probably “kill” him and dump his body somewhere. He’d wait until they left and drag himself off to lick his wounds. It would be tolerable. He would just have to endure.

Mariano was pacing again. Bastian watched him for a few minutes, hoping he would come back to bed, but eventually gave up. “Something on your mind?”

“Than’s not back yet.” Bastian had to admit that was strange. Thanatos had never been gone for over four hours before. He’d usually slip away an hour or two after dusk and return just after midnight, blood-drunk and stifling hiccups. He should have been back three hours ago.

“You want to go after him?” Mariano nodded. Bastian had already got to his feet. He knew Mariano well enough by now to know he couldn’t just stand by. “It’s a lot of ground to cover. What if we don’t find him?”

“He probably went back to the village. We can start that way and fan out if we need to. It’s all well and good if he comes back on his own, but if he’s in trouble…” Mariano trailed off, his pensive gaze wandering toward the forest and taking his feet with it.

Bastian doused the fire and moved to catch up. “I’m sure he just fell asleep somewhere,” he commented, but knew as soon as the words were spoken that they were false. Than didn’t sleep anywhere he didn’t feel safe, and definitely not by accident. When they’d first met, the two of them had spent three days in a stalemate waiting for the other to fall asleep first. It had become clear by then that Thanatos wasn’t even slightly a threat, but Bastian had had to be the one to give up on the whole thing. Than hadn’t seemed like he could, even if he’d wanted to. Even utter exhaustion couldn’t convince his body to rest if it wasn’t safe.

No, it was much more likely that he’d managed to get himself into a situation he couldn’t get himself out of. At this point, it happened so often that Bastian wondered if Thanatos did it on purpose just to enjoy the privilege of having Mariano rescue him. Not that he could blame him. Mariano took on the “knight in shining armour” role quite handsomely, all shining blade and “put him down” and “let him go.” If the mage didn’t have such a tendency to hurt himself while taking care of others, it might have been worth trying himself, but he’d seen what lengths Mariano would push himself to in order to save him. If the idiot got himself killed, it’d be much less fun.

Tracking Thanatos wasn’t difficult. The vampire didn’t have any particular abilities that lent themselves to obscure a trail. He’d been moving quickly, but not particularly quietly. They heard the commotion up ahead before they saw it: a group of about ten people, talking and yelling and throwing spears, rocks, and crossbow bolts, all centred on a tree at the edge of the clearing. The place looked like a war zone. Broken branches littered the forest floor, some splashed with dark red. Black liquid pooled in some places and flowed in others, streaming down from holes in the surrounding trees that looked like they’d been punctured with incredible force. A mass of dark hair and torn fabric, stained with blood, lay at the foot of the central tree. The same black liquid guttered weakly into a half-dome in an attempt to stop more projectiles, but couldn’t hold its shape and joined the rest of the dark splatters on the ground. Surely that wasn’t…?

Another rock bounced off of the figure’s shoulder, leaving behind a line of red that spilled down the pale skin exposed by his ruined sleeve. He shifted and some of the hair fell to the side, revealing a single scarlet eye, darting from side to side, searching for an escape. The leader of the pack, recognizable as the brute from earlier in the day, hurled another stone that struck the wounded creature across the temple. A yelp of pain rang out, but then the shape was silent.

“I think I finally got him!” Javier exclaimed. “How much do you think they’ll pay for his head?”

Mariano had already come to his conclusion. “Leave him.” Despite the lack of exclamation point, his voice was clear and cold and had an impressive volume that carried it well enough to make the rabble stop what they were doing.

Javier turned to see who had spoken. “You again? Seems like you really want trouble. Why do you care so much about this monster, anyway? All it wanted was the steal our people away in the night. I did this town a favour by exterminating it.”

“You’ll regret laying hands on him.” A statement of fact, not a threat. Mariano never threatened.

Javier snorted. “I don’t think so. Maybe I should take care of you, too, for protecting that thing. Boys!” At his command, the scattered hunters left off taking potshots at Thanatos and aimed their weapons at the new threat.

Bastian loved watching this part. Mariano fought like a wild thing, with a magic that was hungry, ruthlessly efficient and utterly without mercy. In some ways, one could say he fought like a dragon. Bastian couldn’t afford to be distracted watching his mage work, though. Rescuing Thanatos was more important, and so he refocused, his new objective heavily discouraging any of Javier’s goons from running to his aid.

Mariano let out a deep breath and put his magic away. The smell of charred flesh rose over the scent of the forest at night — more of which was Bastian’s work than his, if he was honest. “We’re all clear now, Than. Are you all right?” The figure by the tree made no sound, and Bastian threw Mariano an inquisitive glance. He elected to approach, wanting to see if that last rock had knocked the vampire unconscious.

Unconscious he was not, and the speed at which he withdrew toward the perceived safety of the tree surprised even Mariano. The curtain of his hair obscured his face, and it was a bit unsettling the way the glowing red eyes watched Mariano through the tangle, pupils narrowed into slits with none of the good humour or charm he was used to seeing in them. If the vampire weren’t wearing Thanatos’s clothes — or, rather, what was left of them — he’d almost believe it wasn’t Than he was watching at all. Thanatos’s eyes showed no recognition, only wary apprehension, as if he were waiting for Mariano to reveal threatening intent. Was he too far gone to realize who they were?

Mariano continued to approach, slowly, giving Thanatos time to track his movements. “You’re safe now,” he murmured. “It’s just me. It’s Mariano, you know me. Bastian’s here too. Let him see you, Bastian.” Bastian approached as he was told, but Thanatos backed away, which pulled taut a thin wire around his ankle. The metal had cut into his flesh to the point that white bone was visible amidst the mess of pink and red. “That hurts a lot, doesn’t it? Let us help you. We’ll get that off of you and get you somewhere we can treat it, okay?” He could only hope that their potions would work on a vampire. It didn’t look at all treatable otherwise.

Thanatos remained silent. That was the weirdest thing about it. The Thanatos Mariano knew rarely stopped talking: his presence was a constant stream of words about everything and nothing, almost as if he were afraid to stop. Right about now, he would usually apologise profusely for needing to be rescued at all and be on the verge of composing an epic ballad about their combat prowess, maybe a little worse for wear but trying hard not to show it. As Mariano approached, all he could hear were the harsh exhales forcing themselves through the vampire’s nose. That it wasn’t broken was a miracle, considering the state of the rest of his face. Thanatos did a good job of not looking like a corpse most days, but the bruising mottling his cheeks and over his eyes appeared distinctly post-mortem. Tear tracks, long dried, were visible under the blood and dirt. And yet, through it all, he looked not fearful exactly, but… vigilant. Distrustful. He hadn’t given up at all. He was just waiting to see what else he would have to endure.

Mariano tried again. “Thanatos? Bastian’s gonna get that cord off of you, okay? And then you can just come to me. We’ll take you somewhere safe.” Thanatos still didn’t seem to hear, but Bastian’s approach certainly got his attention, eliciting a growl from deep within the vampire’s chest.

“Doesn’t seem like he wants our help,” Bastian murmured, slowing, but not stopping.

“He’s just afraid.” This was a sound like a cornered animal, not like a predator, ready to fight if he had to, but wanting to avoid it. “We can’t just leave him like this. He’ll understand once the wire’s gone.” At least, he probably would. “It’s okay, Than. Come to me, you’ll be safe. You trust me, right?” Mariano could only hope Thanatos did. It certainly seemed like it, given how quickly he’d started to account for the mage in his plans. Would that trust be able to cut through whatever was going on with him?

The growl became louder as the distance between Bastian and Thanatos closed, and escalated into a hiss when he got close enough to touch the wire. It was Mariano’s turn to fill the air with words, anything to distract Thanatos long enough for Bastian to do his thing. If Than tried to run again, he’d probably make everything worse. “Eyes on me, Than, that’s it. I know you’re scared. He won’t hurt you. We’re friends. You know that. You remember us. We’re going to get you out of here, and then we’ll make your leg stop hurting.” Mariano extended a hand toward his injured friend, proving that he held no weapon and no ill intent. It was up to Thanatos to believe him, if he even could right now.

Everything happened at once. A rush of dragon fire, the twang of metal parting from metal. Thanatos lunged toward Mariano at lightning speed, covering the distance between them before Bastian could even shout a warning. White-hot pain, a burst of warm blood, wet, lips, tongue, breath, a dull thud, blackness.

part 2 up tomorrow!

taglist: @athenswrites, @albatris, @thethistlegirlwrites

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rosyandraw · 9 months

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Speaking of Damen’s POV. I’ve always wondered what Damen was thinking in Chapter 5 when he just got back from secretly rescuing Auguste and Laurent ask him whether he wanted to fuck him. Idk because the way you wrote it seemed so ominous.

Did Damen ever suspect that Laurent was ever groomed at all? Because I think it’s evident that Laurent portrays obvious signs of unhealthy experience like how he assumes that every favour should be repayed with sex etc.

Would love to know more on Damen’s introspection of Laurent. And ngl for someone as protective as Damen, I’m surprised that Damen didn’t take action on Bastian sooner. Like just beat him up already djdghshs

Okay this might get long so I’m very sorry! And I’ll put it under a cut because it could potentially be upsetting or triggering and I don’t want anyone to accidentally see it.

Damen’s awareness of Laurent’s abuse in canon and how I translated this.

Firstly, thank you so much for this question, and yes, it was meant to be a little ominous or dark because you guys all know what it implies.

I’ll start by saying it is a tough topic to navigate in fiction because the nuances can get lost on page and there is no one size fits all.

And that’s always very present in my mind when I think about Captive Prince and the way it deals with -and the ways it doesn’t deal with- Laurent’s abuse.

For Damen in particular I based NMFY and Damen's behaviours/reactions entirely on my opinion regarding the canon.

Did Damen consciously and actually think the words “Laurent was groomed”? No.

Do I think he was aware on many levels of the things he was witnessing, and cataloguing of Laurent's behaviours, and it's likely source? Yes.

I think Damen, like many of us, would never just assume something so brutal regardless of what’s in front of us. It’s not a standard thing to think or assume regardless of the people and circumstances around the person. Most people do not go around thinking of it because it is abhorrent and outside of -most- people’s experiences. I think as good people we -like Damen- would shy away from the conscious admission of the thought because we don’t want it to be true. Even when something is “off”.

And I believe that is at the heart of Damen's understanding in canon (and in my fic by extension). Canon Damen is very good at compartmentalising and actively not thinking about the things that upset him. His ability to repress his pain (Kastor, Jokaste, being made a slave, not getting to say goodbye to his murdered father, the prep and ring scene, the post, Ancel... the list goes on) is unparalleled and speaks to his own trauma response mechanisms. I think this very much extends to Laurent and the fact that he was, as Damen said "mishandled"

He actively shies away from it. He notices little things here and there and then quickly swerves away. An example that springs to mind right now from very early on is Pg 13 of Prince's Gambit:

There was something uneasily transgressive about the idea of sleeping in the place meant for Laurent’s uncle “the prince stays here often?”. The castellan mistook him to mean the keep, not the rooms. “Not often, He and his uncle came here a great deal together in the year or two after Marlas. As he grew older, the Prince lost his taste for the runs here. He now comes only rarely to Chastillon."

Damen made a leap but he doesn't tell us exactly what that leap is. We just know that the intimacy of Laurent sleeping in his uncle's bed made him uneasy. That something felt off. But the castellan mistakes Damen's meaning implying it is something normal and follows up with what is essentially the reason he thinks nothing of it. And then food arrives and Damen rushes off to it with the air of someone desperate to cut the conversation. A flash in the pan; noticed, documented, and quickly buried. One instance of many.

So, yes. I think Damen was only waiting for confirmation both in Canon and in my fic. He was actively repressing everything he had noticed and rejecting the conclusion he desperately did not want to think about.

Because what if he was wrong? That’s a terrible thing to assume or bring up or bookmark in your head about someone when you don’t know.

I think in Canon, and likewise what I attempted in my fic, it equates somewhat to: Schrödinger’s awareness. He doesn't know, but he also does.

In Chapter 5 of NMFY it gives Damen pause, like most of Laurent’s glaring markers, the same way they do for Damen in canon. It’s something he makes a note of and something he endeavours to not question out right -not his place- and to make sure Laurent feels safe enough to know Damen would never do what Laurent expects.

This part in particular I based on Laurent’s assumption following how drunk he gets at Marlas in Kings Rising, that Damen probably fucked him. Laurent in CP and Laurent in my fic are both aware that being out of it (drugged, practically asleep, incredibly drunk) means it’s easy to fuck him and all he has to really do is lie there and it’ll be over quick, because his submission or compliance is the expected norm. Neither upsetting nor angering to him. Just is what it is. An expectation from experience. He’s less trouble when he’s half conscious: this he knows and equates it to ideal time to fuck him because docile is preferable and his comfort/consent has never been part of the equation.

In my fic Damen clings to the idea that Auguste would have said something if it had been true of Laurent. So whilst he’s aware something about Laurent is off, he consciously shuts the ideas down. But Damen doesn’t take time to be convinced both in my fic and in canon, he just absorbs it. There are no questions, it’s just bringing a hard buried suspicion to the forefront as fact.

As for Bastian I think Damen wants to so very badly. But he’s also aware that he can’t really do that given who they are. And he’s never exactly certain that it’s his place to do so. He (and me by extension or is that the other way around? Haha!) needs Laurent to pull the trigger so to speak. He’s protective yes but Laurent has his own agency and Damen wouldn’t overstep that.

Especially in a modern setting and in this setting in particular where he has to worry about the press and the truth of a certain situation which he can never afford to have out. Anything with the police is a no go for him. Just in case. Damen is aware that the Royal family, the secret service, they’d all flip if someone dug up -or dragged up- the truth so its best not to tempt fate. Which absolutely isn’t to say he can’t be pushed but as of right now he’s conscious of Laurent and his choices and what he might want -or not want- and his place in all of that. He’s not petty enough to lash out with jealousy at least. Like in canon jealous Damen is more derisive and sulky than aggressive or petty.

I am very sorry this got so long but I wanted to give it a proper answer 💕💕

#asks #Captive Prince #damen/laurent #Lamen #damen of akielos #laurent of vere #nmfy #sorry this got long but your question is deep and i wanted to give it the answer it deserved #omg is this meta?

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the-loveliest-lotus · 5 months

Text

I got inspired yesterday and wrote this little interaction between @raddouchebag's OC Bastian Kitzler my OC Lucy Desmond (she has a sideblog now @lucyskyedesmond). These two have some kindred spirit vibes and I ran with it (and I adore Bastian). 🖤

Word Count: 1,676 words

Note: Has some potential spoilers for The Wicker Man (my mtl fanfiction), but super minimal.

~~~~~

Lucy was standing outside on one of Mordhaus’ balconies, watching the sunset. Normally she’d be up on the roof, but she wanted a change of pace and something in her intuition had told her to come down here tonight.

As if on cue, Dethklok’s new producer walked outside, lighting a cigarette and not quite paying attention. When he noticed her, he stopped, as if he was wondering if he should find somewhere else to have a cigarette. Lucy spoke up with a playful smirk on her lips, “I won’t bite you unless you ask me to.” Then she got slightly more serious, “Unless you were hoping for some solitude in which case I can go to my usual spot up on the roof.”

He debated for a second, trying to ignore how flustered the initial comment had made him, and then shook his head, “No, you’re fine. I just didn’t expect anyone to be here.”

She smiled a little, “Fair enough.”

He walked over and stood downwind of her so as not to get the cigarette smoke in her face. Lucy appreciated the little gesture. She raised her joint that she was smoking slightly, “You want a hit?”

They were done working for the day, so he figured it couldn’t harm anything. “Thank you,” he said as he took the joint and took a little hit. He held it for a second and exhaled, passing it back to her. Bastian felt an instant wave of calm wash over him. The weed was strong, but it was pleasant, like a heavy weighted blanket being pulled up over his soul.

She took another hit herself and offered it back to him, but he refused, “This is the perfect level for me.” He smoked his cigarette, wondering how she wasn’t on her ass with how strong that hit had been for him, but she broke the silence before he could ask about it.

“You know, I don’t think I could ever get tired of watching the sun set or rise. No matter what stays the same, no matter where you are, you never see the same one twice.”

Bastian raised an eyebrow at her, the thought was so much deeper than he had been expecting. From what he had seen of Lucy so far, she was very bold, a little brash, and extroverted to the nth degree. To see her so calm and enamored with something as simple as a sunset was surprising. “You watch them a lot, I take it?”

She nodded, “There’s something peaceful about it.”

Bastian looked at the small woman, she was so different when she was alone than when she was with the rest of the band. She seemed less intimidating like this. “You know, I’ll admit, when I first met you, I thought you were somewhat intimidating.”

She looked up at him with a little smirk on her lips, “Excellent, my façade is working.” Her blue eyes looked him up and down, “Really though?”

He nodded, but made a joke to keep things light, “Maybe it’s the jacket.”

Lucy smirked, she could tell something had happened to him in his past that was the real reason that he had said anything at all about her being intimidating. People always seemed to give her a flash of their cards even when they were the best of poker players. Even still, she barely knew Bastian yet despite having worked with him for a while, so instead of getting too deep, she said, “It usually disturbs people a little. That uncanny valley effect that the basilisk skin gives off does that.”

His eyebrows raised, “Basilisk skin?”

She nodded, “Perks to having the Blues Devil among my lovers. He has been very protective over the years, far beyond the duties of our initial contract. He wanted to give me a jacket that was almost like armor in case a fan ever tried stabbing me again.” Lucy looked at the jacket fondly, the rainbow iridescence of the scales glimmering in the fading sunlight. “Sometimes love is more about what they do than about what they say, you know?”

Bastian couldn’t help the little pang of envy, he had seen her throng of lovers. Even the ones that she was only intimate with on a more casual level seemed to care about her deeply. Though, something that he had wondered about stumbled from his lips before he could think much about what he was saying, “How do you handle not being some of their number one choice?”

Lucy looked back at Bastian, there was something in his eyes. Gods, this man just wanted to be loved and she could see it written on his face. He was pining after someone, and she had a good feeling she knew who it was, but she wasn’t about to get too specific. So instead, she answered honestly, “I’m my own number one. After I killed my abuser, I made myself a promise, and that’s why even with Pickles I put myself first.” She saw the face he made about Pickles and made a mental note of it, but continued, “People come and go. Life changes, and the only consistent thing we have in life is ourselves. I make me my priority. If people don’t like that, then they’re not meant for me. It makes life a lot easier to navigate.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he said, a sadness in his voice that she wondered if he was even aware of.

She shrugged, “I’ve had a lot of practice. Really, I was like this even with my abuser, it was just… a hot mess.” She had a bitter little smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes, and Bastian could see the pain on her face. It was a pain of sorrow where you wonder what your life would have been like if you had never met the person that caused you emotional damage. He knew that pain all too well.

He put a tentative hand on her shoulder, and he could feel her relax at his touch. It almost surprised him to see someone relax that quickly at his hand when they hardly knew each other outside of work. “At least he didn’t seem to dim that light inside of you.”

Lucy blushed a little at his words, a softer smile forming on her lips, “Your light is brighter than you think it is too, Bastian.” She turned back toward the sunset and leaned against him. Lucy could feel him tense up, but then he relaxed and put an arm around her, leaning back into her a little. It made her smile a little more. The man was like a feral and frightened cat, but he seemed willing to open up with a little patience and kindness. It reminded her of herself in some ways, even if she did express it differently than he seemed to.

They didn’t speak again until the sun was completely down. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something, by the way,” Lucy said, glancing up at him, neither of them having moved. He raised an eyebrow at her and she continued, “Would you sign my copy of the Play Girl that you were in?”

He chuckled, “I assume you got it for the articles?”

“Of course, I’m an avid reader of… Oh who am I kidding, absolutely not. I don’t have a whole lot of them by any means, but I collect the ones that really catch my eye, and yours happened to.”

That got a full laugh out of him and Lucy decided she liked that sound and wanted to hear more of it. “Only if you’ll sign my copy of the Play Boy that you were in,” he said.

She laughed a little, “Did you get that one for the articles?”

Bastian smirked, “Normally I don’t get them, I’m not really a fan of how they treat models, but it was an attempted apology from Murderface and Toki for something over the line that they said about a month ago and the photo set was pretty creative.”

“That sounds about right.” She would hazard a guess that Murderface had been an insensitive jackass and Toki had been along for the ride. The fact that they were using her Play Boy issue as an apology token was somehow fitting for them. “I’m surprised they still had a copy that was intact and not covered in questionable fluids at this point, to be honest.” Bastian made a face at the thought and she snickered a bit. “I’ll have to tell you all about the shoot. Charles negotiated full creative control within certain parameters for me, so I’m sure I didn’t have the usual shoot experience.”

“You’re lucky. My shoot…” He trailed off, “I have stories, not all of them pleasant.” Bastian changed the subject a little, trying to keep the mood light, “Believe it or not, I did actually read the interview. It was pretty good. The fire fans were a nice touch too.”

She grinned, it was nice seeing him slowly let his walls down, “Thanks. I loved being able to really express myself.” Lucy wanted to know a bit more about him if he was feeling open right now, “I’d love to hear some of your stories while you’re signing mine too, if you’re up for it, at least. Hell, doesn’t even have to be from the Play Boy shoot, I’d love to hear some of your industry experiences that don’t suck.”

Her good mood was shockingly infectious. Or maybe it was just the weed. ‘Maybe it’s both.’ “Alright, we’ll swap some stories,” he said, laughing again.

Lucy smiled at the sound. She was glad that they had an excuse to hang out tonight, she was hoping to hear a lot more of that laugh. “Why don’t you go grab your copy and meet me in my room?” she asked.

He looked down at her, a sparkle in his eye, glad that this night was taking such an interesting turn. “Sounds like a plan.”

#lucy skye desmond #bastian kitzler #metalocalypse oc #mtl oc #my writing #just two feral cats watching the sunset

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