#but SILAS AND MERCY on the other hand | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunnylovesani · 5 months

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An Arrangement

Summary: You’re a princess taken from your home planet and forced to marry Darth Vader. Turns out life on the Death Star isn’t as bad as everyone makes out. Based on the prompt shared with @luminoustarlight !

Content warnings: p in v sex, degradation, sub dynamics, begging, some violence, slow burn smut

WC: 9.3k

You stare out the grand palatial window in the coronation room, passively observing the flames swallowing the city of your home planet Onderon. Unintelligible screams flood the background, soon mercilessly silenced by the thuds and cracks of brusquely operated laser guns.

So this is how you were to meet your end: powerless at the mercy of the imperial army. You’d been trained for such a scenario before and you always carried a vial of poison in the event of capture; you’d rather die than be made to serve the Empire’s twisted interests.

“Princess, you need to take cover, follow my men into the vault below!” Your faithful attendant, Silas called out in panic.

“No, Silas. I will not cower in the basement waiting for them to breach our walls. I will remain here and eagerly await them.”

“But Your Grace-!”

“Enough.” You bark back. “It’s over. You have been discharged from duty, run while you still can. Thank you for all your years of service, I pray that our paths might cross again in another life.” You turn from him, tears flowing down your stiffeningly cold cheeks.

“May the Maker keep and protect you, Princess. You are our only hope.” He replies solemnly, before fleeing through the stony back passage of the palace.

You chuckle mirthlessly at the futility of his words and reach into your bosom where the corset of your gown has a sewn-in compartment. You extract the compact glass ampule of viper venom, so toxic that one drop is enough to send you into an eternal sleep, and fiddle with the intricate bottle for a few moments. With a heavy sigh, you tuck it under your sleeve; you decided you wanted to gaze into the eyes of your captors before you bid farewell to life.

With a resounding crash, the barricaded gate before you falls and the imperial army- donning armour plastered in dust and foreign blood- swarm into the great hall of the palace. You force the knot in your throat down with a gulp and turn on your heel to face the brutes responsible for the massacre of your people.

“Ah Princess, excellent. We thought you’d be grovelling underground with your father but you’ve just made our job a whole lot easier.” A masked figure that you presume is the Commander of the battalion addresses you. “Grab her. But keep her alive, she’s got a special purpose to fulfil.”

Hearing the ominous plans they have in store for you, you rush to reach for the poison in your sleeve but are hindered by the stampede of soldiers hurtling at you, slapping the vial out of your hand and shattering it all over the nitid marble floor.

‘Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even think about it.” The unnaturally deep voice of the commander booms. “You’ve been specially requested at the behest of the Emperor.” Dread consumes you as you’re roughly cuffed and dragged out of the safety of your childhood home. The soldiers marching comes to a sudden halt and you’re made to turn around and stare at the palace, a deadly silence hanging in the air.

“Burn it.”

Triggered by the commander’s words, a roaring blaze fulminates, the building being crushed in an instant by the force of the explosion. All you can see is the reflection of smouldering flickers through the thick veil of tears filling your eyes.

The commander smugly trudges over to you, sharply inhaling. “Ah, there’s nothing better than the smell of a coward’s smouldering corpse.” He hisses, words dripping with venom. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Your heart burned at the injustice, at the innocent civilians decimated- but you couldn’t fool yourself into pretending that scorn extended to your dearly departed father.

Refusing to reply to his provocation with anything other than an expectorated glob of spit aimed at his helmet, he takes the barrel of his gun and pummels it with brute force against your temple. You’re instantly rendered unconscious and your limp body is packed into the nearest starfighter, chained up and ready to make the journey from Onderon to the Death Star.

The first thing you do as you’re rudely awoken is cradle your aching head- a wave of nausea overtaking you and the electric pain behind your eyes knocking the air out of your lungs.

“Rise ’n shine, Onderon whore.” One of the soldiers grabbing you by the elbow spat and you stumbled to your feet like a newborn foal. After being dragged through a fortified steel tunnel, you were harshly thrown to the floor in a cold control room before two cloaked men, one of whom wore black combat boots- no doubt robust and heavy enough to crack open a skull. The light in the battle station glowed painfully bright and you lifted your head as best you could to observe the squabbling figures through squinted eyes.

“Here she is, my young Lord. I think she’ll do nicely, yes?” The ominously raspy voice croaked and you knew at once it was none other than Emperor Sheev Palpatine.

“She’s shivering.” The monotonous voice of the other cloaked figure stated callously and only then did you notice how your body was trembling- whether it was from the cold or the fear, you weren’t sure.

“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to warm her up on your wedding night.” He cackles wickedly but is met with silence from the man opposite him. The last thing you remember before it all went black was the light reflecting off of the quiet man’s helmet, and wondering what might be lurking underneath.

“Tskk poor thing, look at this cut on your head.” You flutter your eyes open to see a woman in a billowed white cloak tutting and fussing over you. “Good morning, princess.”

“Who are you?” You scowl, trying to get up and immediately being knocked back down by the overwhelming pain.

“Whoa, easy now! Nice ’n slow.” The woman puts her arm around your waist and helps you to sit up. “I’m Sabe, a royal handmaiden. Your handmaiden, to be exact.”

“Where am I?” You croak, uncertain you wanted to know.

“You’re on the Death Star, ma’am.”

Bile rises in your throat at the realisation that none of it was a dream- your recollection of the last 24 hours starts flooding in and your chest seizes in panic. The fire, the cloaked men, the people in the vault.

“You’re all right, just breathe. No harm is going to come to you. He’s made sure of that.” Sabe spouts and your head snaps at her.

“He?”

“Oh yes, Lord Vader gave orders for your protection. Under penalty of death. If you ask me, he just needs a woman’s touch to soften him up and he’d finally succeed in shaking that leech of an emperor off. Suppose that’s where you come in!”

“Me?” You screech, wondering when you’d say something not in the form of a question.

“Oh, you poor thing, you don’t know…the Emperor is arranging a wedding between his young protegee and a princess from a seized planet. The princess being you, if that’s not clear.” She continued chattering incessantly.

“Yes, I got that.” You snap. “And when is this supposed union meant to be taking place?”

“Tonight.”

You choose to remain quiet, rather than parroting back her last word in the form of yet another question.

After your handmaiden assists in bathing and dressing you in clean robes, you still can’t seem to escape the dull throbbing of the headache that permeates every cell of your body, leaving you in persistent agony. You beg Sabe to find something to help, knowing that you yourself weren’t allowed to leave the confines of the east wing. Stepping out onto the enclosed observatory space by your chambers, you stare out into the stars surrounding the vessel. You wished you could break beyond the thick glass enclave and just glide away, joining the stars and freeing yourself from the pain.

“Who hurt you?” A raspy voice questions and you turn around to the sight of Lord Vader, enveloped in his armour and mask.

“Uh, whoever the commander of the battalion was.” You reply, startled.

“He will be dealt with. Now come here.” He reaches his gloved hand out, signalling for you to grab it. With a great deal of uncertainty, you approached him, timidly giving him your hand. He takes it into his palm and holds it firmly to his chest. As if some force had siphoned the contusions and swelling out of you, you felt your agony slowly subside- until there was nothing at all in its wake.

“H-how did you do that?” You took a step back from him, holding your fingers up to your temple in disbelief. You’d heard of force healing before but assumed it was either a myth or a nearly lost practice only wielded by the most masterly of Jedi.

“Go back to your chambers and rest. You have a long ordeal ahead of you.” He leaves your question unanswered and marches out of the observatory as quickly as he entered it.

You’re compelled to follow his commands so you retreat to your chambers, forcing yourself to drink the healing tea Sabe concocted after having decided it was easier than explaining the bizarre experience you’d had. That was the dark Sith Lord that struck terror into the hearts of everyone who faced him? Ruthless, soulless, devoid of all human compassion- and channelling force healing to ease your headache? You spent all afternoon writhing in confusion, all the way up until a neatly packaged box was left on the doorstep of your assigned room. Upon closer inspection, the box contained an intricate white lace dress, paired with a beaded, scallop hemmed headpiece. A wedding outfit.

Standing at the forefront of the cold metallic arena, you twiddled with the sleeves on your dress- the material itching terribly and making your skin crawl. In a way, you were glad to have something occupy your mind beyond the impending prospect of marrying a Sith brute. You wondered why he wore that clunky helmet- is he so hideously deformed he has to hide behind it lest people faint at the sight?

A frightened-looking man you can only assume is the officiator of this sham of a wedding is escorted through the heavily guarded gates and takes his place before you, not daring to make eye contact. Your body fills with dread at the familiar sound of heavy boots dragging along the steel plates of the floor. He doesn’t spare you a passing glance for even a moment, despite your stubborn resolution to face him for the entirety of the ceremony- you wanted to look deep into the supposedly merciless eyes of your new husband. There aren’t any vows, there’s no exchange of rings, no kiss to celebrate the union- just some legal jargon and a couple of witnesses. Although you can’t see him, you can feel Palpatine’s snake eyes burning into you, no doubt observing from another room to ensure his mysterious plan came to fruition.

“Follow me.” A stormtrooper orders you and begins to head back in the direction of your chambers. Confused, you allow him to escort you out of the hall as you see a cloaked figure approach Lord Vader out of the corner of your eye. You just about hear the Emperor’s gravelly voice hiss out the word “consummate” before the doors shut behind you and you’re carried away to the bedroom. For some reason, the thought of sex hadn’t crossed your mind- you assumed villains like him had interests that surpassed such blunt mortal affairs - but now standing in front of your 4-poster bed, waiting for the sound of his heavy footsteps again, reality sunk in. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat and lay on the bed, removing the first layer of your dress and remaining in a white negligee. “Just lie back and think of Onderon.” You thought.

Your whole body tensed as you observed him enter your joint chambers, completely walking past you and going to the connecting bathroom, door left ajar.

“I’m ready, Lord Vader.” You stiffly announce, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible.

Hearing your words, he peers out of the doorway and although you can’t see his face, his body language seems perplexed.

“What are you doing?” He remarks accusingly.

“I-I’m…waiting for you to consummate our marriage. Like Palpatine wishes.” He scoffs at your comment- laughs even- and goes back into the bathroom.

“I will do nothing of the sort.” You hear him say.

Sitting up on the bed and dragging the covers over your exposed body, you’re bewildered.

“Oh, c-can Sith Lords not…?” You stutter, searching for an explanation.

“I assure you I’m perfectly capable.” He snaps back. “I just have no desire for the task.”

Although relief floods your body, you feel slightly offended at the presumption that lovemaking with you should be a task.

Just then, you hear a steamy hissing sound, followed by a loud thud. The figure emerges, back facing you without his layers of armour- donning a simple black shirt and black trousers. He wanders over to the window at the far end of the room, staring out into space.

“I’m sorry about your father.” He grunts after a while and you finally hear his voice- free from robotic static, with no menacing growl - just him, and it sounds beautiful.

“Don’t be.” You say sincerely, fixated on the back of his head. You notice he has dark blonde curls, gathering in tufts at the nape of his neck. “Come on, turn around.” You think, bracing yourself for what you might find.

“Alright, if you insist.” He remarks and you scowl in confusion- you didn’t say that out loud, did you?

He pivots round to face you and you feel as though someone has knocked the air from your lungs: he glares at you with mesmerising cobalt-blue eyes, embellished by abundantly thick lashes and even thicker eyebrows sitting atop his handsomely chiselled face. His cheekbones stand at attention, enhanced by his sculpted jawline, which works in perfect harmony with the rest of his body- even his collarbones are perfect. He’s full of sprightly vigour, he’s young even. You are floored and contemplate how anyone could hide such a face away in that clunky helmet.

“Not what you were expecting, huh?” He speaks, sensing the utter shock his appearance has inflicted on you.

“You…you’re-” You stutter.

“Not hideously deformed?”

“-beautiful.”

He raises his bushy eyebrows disapprovingly and you scold yourself for being so forthright. He may be devilishly handsome, but that doesn’t mean you can swoon over him. He’s a monster, remember? Sure, he has the most seductive pair of lips you’d ever seen on a man - all plump and the perfect shade of pink- and sure, he’s sparked a desire within you that you don’t think you’d ever felt before but…where were you going with this?

“I’m going to sleep in the adjoining room, you can take my chambers.” You’re snapped out of your dreamy haze by his velvety voice as he begins to walk away.

“Wait! Y-you don’t have to, I’m sure the bed is uncomfortable over there.”

“No, it’s perfectly fine.” He continues marching away.

“Wait! The bed here is more than big enough for the both of us, we wouldn’t even touch.” You stumble over your words, melting under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Do you want me to sleep with you, Princess?” His movement comes to a halt and you’re rendered speechless. “Because that really would be something. Captured and brutalised after all that you hold dear is set alight, forced to marry a servant of evil- and then you request his company in your bed? That would be deranged. You’re not deranged now, are you Princess?”

Your mouth goes dry at the snarky way in which he’s talking to you- you admit it sounds mad out loud but the situation is more complicated than he thinks.

“N-no.” You mutter, barely above a whisper.

“Good, I wouldn’t want to find out I’ve married damaged goods.” He remarks impertinently. “I’m retiring for the evening- and I am not to be disturbed.” With that, he slams the door between you shut and you slide down your headboard, consumed by embarrassment, shame, desire. His dastardly good looks have really thrown a spanner into the works.

You barely managed to get any sleep that night, much like every night the week following the wedding. Your dreams were plagued by visions- of your father, of your captors, of your husband. Before your seizure, you already knew your future would hold a forced marriage; although an even less desirable one. Your father had plans to marry you off to your cousin, a brainless specimen by the name of Fester who was too dim-witted to even realise he was being used as a pawn in the family’s bloodline feud.

Despite your many attempts to plead and beg your way out of this union, your father dismissed you entirely- even going so far as to sanction you to the confines of your stuffy quarters, striking you remorselessly when you defied his orders.

You’d spent a lifetime dreamily peering out of your windows, waiting to be liberated by a saviour that never came- at least not in the way you thought.

Lord Vader was never present, aside from a very brief juncture in the evenings, when he would pass through your chambers on the way to his bedroom. You tried to make conversation but he either stared at you with dead, unamused eyes or flat-out ignored you. Asking him what he did during his working hours was not one of the things you tried to speak about- much preferring to stay in ignorant bliss- and he was more than happy to not be at the receiving end of your questions for once.

Growing increasingly tired of questioning your purpose on this wretched behemoth of a ship, you took the liberty of posting yourself outside his bedroom that night, waiting to block his exit until he at least acknowledged your existence. You’re ashamed to admit that you selected your nightwear especially for him- tonight choosing to wear the thinnest of slip dresses in the pathetic hopes that he might be drawn in by your pert chest.

As is routine, you hear the doors to your chambers swing open and are greeted with the welcome sight of the young Lord, who strides over to you intimidatingly. Removing his helmet and towering before you, you gulp at not just the height difference- but the sheer broadness of his shoulders compared to your slender ones.

“Move.” He states, glaring at you unaffectedly.

“No. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” You stubbornly huff and you think you spot a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“You don’t give the orders around here, Princess.” He asserts as he lifts you up by the waist with ease and drops you out of his way like you were a meagre traffic obstruction. You’re filled with disbelief as he enters his room, shutting the door in your face. “At least he didn’t slam it tonight.” You ponder.

Slouching down the door defeatedly, you pout as you hear him undress, desperately in need of an explanation.

“Please.” You plead pitiably, not expecting him to hear you.

You almost fall to the floor as your backrest swings open, and you lift your head to see him, sighing above you.

“What is it?”

“I-I just wanna know some things.” You mutter, cradling your knees on the floor.

“Then talk.” He taps his foot impatiently.

“Well uh- for starters, why am I here?” You rise from the floor to face him. “Why did Palpatine want you to marry me?”

“He wants me to sire a son- to ensure his plans can be carried out should I be otherwise indisposed.” He looks away coldly.

“I don’t understa-“

“Palpatine will live into his 200s. I am only human. If I am killed, he wants another apprentice to bend to his will, one just as strong with the force.”

“So why haven’t you attempted to do any siring yet?” He looks at you with a look of intense shock, disgust even. Of all the things he’s said, you take issue with his lack of action in the bedroom.

“I refuse to participate in this charade. He’ll see that you’re barren after a while- and we’ll dispose of you accordingly.”

“But I’m not barren.” You interject, dismissing the latter part of his sentence.

“It would be in your best interests to pretend you are.” You’re beguiled by his smooth voice and find yourself yearning to hear it all night. “I’ve brought someone to keep you company, hopefully with them in attendance you’ll be less inclined to seek my attention.”

“Another handmaiden? Ah, spare me- the current one is more than irritating enough on her own.” You shudder at the thought of 2 Sabes, prattling in your ear all day.

“No, I’ve ordered for the capture of your former attendant. I believe you were quite fond of him- Silas, is it?”

Your heart seizes, he’s alive? More importantly, he’s being brought to you? You stare at the scowling face of your husband, who looks afraid you might try to do something overly affectionate.

“A purely self-indulgent measure. To prevent any future ambushes like the one tonight.” He backtracks, attempting to impose some distance but you disregard it entirely. “If that’s not enough to keep you occupied, you can also have access to my private library - Silas will be waiting for you there tomorrow.”

“Thank you, my Lord,” You whisper, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping your arms against his waist, face snugly pressed into his firm chest. You feel him tense up at the intrusion, but he relaxes ever so slightly with an exhale, hovering his arms above your own- careful not to let them touch lest he give you the impression he’s embracing you back.

“Call me Anakin.” He mumbles softly.

You wake up the next day, your chest feeling lighter than it has in years. Bounding out of bed, you instil deep confusion in Sabe, who enters your room with fresh clothes.

“Having a good morning?” She asks.

“I think actually, yes. Yes, I am.” You reply resolutely, allowing her to dress you without your usual complaints as she tightens your corset.

“Might this have anything to do with Lord Vader?” She raises an eyebrow, consumed with curiosity.

“Perhaps. Or perhaps I see that my new life might not be so bad after all. I believe I have someone waiting for me, you’re dismissed for now, Sabe.” You waltz out of your chambers to the library that Anakin mentioned you were granted entrance to.

You enter the room and stare in wonder at the rows upon rows of polished shelves, furnished with all kinds of large, leather-bound books. Among the volumes of publications is a tall, spindly man- standing with his back turned.

“Silas!” You cry out and dart towards him, colliding against him in a tight embrace.

“Princess! Let me look at you, are you hurt?” He grabs your face, inspecting it for any cuts or bruises.

“No, no I’m perfectly fine!” You smile.

“How could you possibly be fine? I heard about the wedding- it’s a scandal, it’s a disgrace! The intergalactic senate will hear about this- I promise I will get you out!“

“Silas, it’s okay, I’m being treated well here.” Your reply sends him into a stunned silence.

“You’ve been married to a Sith Lord. A princess of the purest blood made to intermingle with the lap dog of the Emperor. I don’t even want to think about what you’ve been forced to do here to survive.” He shudders.

“I haven’t been made to do anything. And Anakin really isn’t that bad once you get to know him a little.”

“Anakin?” Silas almost breaks out in hives at what he’s hearing.

“Yeah, that’s his real name. And oh, Silas, he’s so handsome!” You clamber on, reading the titles off a nearby bookshelf and digging for something that might take your fancy.

“I don’t believe this. One week under captivity and you’ve been brainwashed already.” He takes his head into his hands.

“I haven’t been brainwashed.” You chuckle. “Anakin is the one who brought you here. Just for me. And he lets me have the nicest quarters on the ship- and I’m allowed private access to the whole library!” You gush.

“So he’s built you a very pleasant cage. Fantastic. Just because your prison has a nice interior doesn’t make it your home.”

“Well, it’s no less of a prison than Onderon was. At least in this one, my marriage isn’t incestuous.” Silas’s eyes widen beyond measure at the boldness of your statement and he takes a seat before he collapses.

“He used the force to heal me when I was in pain.”

“And what caused you to be hurt in the first place?” He snaps back accusingly.

“Silas, listen to me.” You kneel beside him, taking his hand into your own. “I’ve spent too many years worrying about the fate of my future, cursing the Maker for how little control I had over my own destiny. No more. I can only take life as it comes in small waves- I have relinquished control. This is my new home now.”

With a heavy sigh, Silas nods- looking away as if unable to process your revelation.

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You say, mischievous twinkle in your eye.

The remainder of the day is spent flicking through various books, amassing a pile of them in your bedroom so high that you could barely see Sabe’s head poking through when she entered.

“Um, m’lady? If you won’t be requiring anything else for the night, can I retire? Silas and I were thinking of wandering down to the observatory by my quarters…”

“Of course, Sabe, enjoy.” You chuckle as she meekly smiles and exits your room. You knew they’d hit it off, one perennial chatterbox with another. Flicking through the last page of the first edition volume of The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise, you hummed discontentedly. “What a terrible ending.” You thought as you inspected the piles on your floor for the second volume. You suspect you must’ve left it in the library when you were packing your books onto the trolley so you wrap a thin robe around yourself and march down the hall. You notice the lights already burning as you enter the library cautiously, peering your head through to see Anakin, sitting on an armchair and reading something out of a thick, metal-encased manual.

“What’s your book about?” You query as you approach him slowly.

“It’s a story about a very naughty princess who loves to go looking for trouble.” He sneers, lip curling up into the shadow of a smile.

“No, it’s not!” You titter as you pry over the bind, seeing various starfighter diagrams and mechanical cross-sections.

“What do you want now?” He shuts the book promptly.

“I just came to collect something I left behind.” You reply innocently.

“I trust you’re enjoying my collection, then.” He looks up at you for the first time and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his dreamy eyes.

“Oh yes, it’s very impressive. I didn’t think Sith Lords read so much.”

“They don’t.” He gets up from his chair, sauntering over to a nearby shelf and picking out a specific book. “Try this, I think you’ll like it.” He throws the book in your direction and you catch it; observing the cover, you speculate it’s some kind of historical tale about a lost civilisation.

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to read it.” You tuck it under your arm. “Are you retiring for the night yet?”

“Yes, I’ll leave the library to you.” He gets up to leave but you stand in front of him.

“I was only here to get something, escort me back?” You ask and he looks you up and down before making a low grunting sound, something you can only assume is a sign of acceptance. He heads out the door and you follow, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

“I never got to thank you.” You say as you enter your chambers, seizing the short moment you have to converse before he disappears into his bedroom.

“What could you possibly have to thank me for?” He rolls his eyes.

“For rescuing me.” You reach out to touch him by the arm but back down, courage failing you.

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“No, really. My circumstances back home were…less than ideal.” You stare down at your feet.

“I admit I find it peculiar that you don’t seem to be in mourning.” He notes, more intrigue in his tone than you’re used to.

“Would you be in mourning over a man who oppressed and rebuked you at every turn?”

“I see. I suppose that explains your…unorthodox behaviour.” For the very first time, he takes a seat on the chaise lounge by your bed- does he actually want to have this conversation with you?

“I guess you could say that. After he locked me up in the palace and forced me to accept my cousin’s betrothal, I abandoned all hope for the future and resigned myself to perpetual misery. And then you came along.” He squints his eyes, looking almost frustrated with your positivity.

“Are you sure you understand the situation you’ve found yourself in? You’re aware you’ve been abducted- forced to spend every day locked up here, never to see your planet or familiars again? Forced to play wife to me?” He gawks incredulously.

“You’re not as bad as you make out.” You smile at him. “And you’re certainly very easy on the eyes.” You look for changes in his demeanour but it remains unaffected. “Would you have preferred it if I was terrified and unwilling to go near you?”

“Terrified? Of course not, the thought of it sickened me. Unwilling to go near me? I’m not sure I’d mind.” He states and you wonder if that was his way of making a joke. “I regret that you’ve been ensnared into this. I wish it could’ve been different.”

“I don’t.” You pluck up the courage to sit beside him, placing your hand on his leg. “I can see there’s goodness within you. It’s almost tangible in the way you treat me.”

“Clearly I’ve given you the wrong impression.” He mutters gruffly, visibly uncomfortable. “And you can stop wearing those little dresses around me. All you’re going to succeed in doing is get frostbite.” He pushes your hand off him.

“Do you find me that repulsive?” You question sharply, tired of being made to feel undesirable. “I’ve been told my looks rival that of some of the fairest Princesses in the galaxy. Is a man like yourself so completely cold to the affections of women?”

“I fail to see how that is relevant.” He dismisses.

“It’s relevant because I’m tired of my bed being cold. You chose to marry me, now act like a husband!”

“What choice? I had no choice!” He shouts back and your blood runs cold when he stands towering over you.

“That makes two of us. But I fail to see what good can come from sulking about it.” You lower your tone.

“You’re that desperate, huh?” He sneers condescendingly.

“So what if I am?” You throw caution to the wind, fully aware of the way you’re debasing yourself right now; after the breadcrumbs of affection he’d been giving you, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fine.” He says, making his way over to the bed, ripping off his shirt.

“W-what are you doing?” You murmur as he undresses and positions himself in the middle of your stately bed.

“I’m ready, Princess.” He mocks, parroting what you’d said to him on your wedding night. “You wanted to fuck me, right? Well here I am. At your royal disposal.”

“N-not like this.” You mutter, trying not to stare at his firm pecs or chiselled abdomen.

“What’s the matter? You’ve been prancing around in those little dresses all week, practically begging me to give you a scrap of my attention and now I’m in our marital bed, you’re too scared?”

“I’m not scared, I just don’t want to feel like I’m forcing myself on you.” You mutter quietly, drained of all confidence.

“You’re worried about all the wrong things. Palpatine told me to brutalise you to within an inch of your life, you know that? To take all my anger out on you and make you pay for the sins of your family. And you’re worried about whether you’re taking advantage of me. I fear I have been too soft. You seem to forget who you’re speaking to.”

“But you didn’t.” You sniffle.

“What?”

“But you didn’t do those things. You’re a good man, Anakin.” Your voice softens and you climb up the bed to join him, allowing your gaze to linger on the small line of blonde curling hair starting from his belly button, travelling down to what lay underneath his underwear.

“No. I haven’t quite lost all my humanity.” He breathes heavily, seemingly noticing your staring.

“Let me show you my appreciation.” You bit your lip and bravely met his intense gaze. He doesn’t respond, the only noticeable reaction being his eyes wandering down to your breasts, thin material doing little to conceal your pert nipples.

“Do you wish to see me?” You ask, fingers toying with the straps as he huffs slightly, acting as though this were beneath him- but still remaining silent. You shrug the material off, revealing your round, perky breasts to him. You think you can see something twitching in his boxers but you can’t be sure.

“Can I?” You ask, gesturing to sit on his lap but he remains speechless. “Please, my Lord, I need to hear you-“

“Yes.”

A grin spreads across your face as you mount him, completely bare. Putting your hands on his chest, you move your hips a little to feel him. Not that you were expecting any less for a man of his stature, but you felt yourself getting soaked at his formidable size; he was surely 8 inches, and just as satisfyingly thick. Your eyes fall to his pretty face and you’re overcome with the urge to kiss him all over. Reaching down to plant small kisses over his temple and cheeks, you feel him stiffen even more.

“What are you doing?” He grumbles.

“Shut up and kiss me.” You pant as you capture his lips in a soft kiss, brushing them against each other. You can feel him almost fighting the urge to hold you so you take the initiative and grab him by the jaw, kissing him deeply and passionately. You think you hear a moan slip out of his mouth but when you pull away, he’s still got the same cold expression on his beautiful face- brows slightly furrowed and lips pursed in disaffection.

“If you’re waiting for me to make a move, it’s not going to happen.” He sighs, looking fatigued. A quiet rage simmers within you. You’ve had suitors lining up at the palace gates since you were a teenager and now this glorified servant is behaving as though he is the prize. You craved the chance to teach him not to underestimate you, to make him see you were special. “On another occasion, perhaps.” You thought. Tonight, you just wanted to make him writhe beneath you.

“If you’re going to be making snarky comments all evening, I’m going to stuff my panties in your mouth to silence you.”

“What panties? You didn’t wear any.” He grins and your chest sets alight. However brief it was, it’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile. His teeth were pearly and straight, and his smile broad enough to reach across his whole face in a bright, radiant flash. You felt like your day had gotten better just by being witness to it.

“Why do you always do that?” He breaks your trance.

“Huh, do what?”

“Disassociate. You stare right through me when you do it.”

“M’sorry. I can’t help it.” You feel a fierce shyness overcome you.

“You find me that handsome?”

“Yes.” You whisper. You have no idea why you’re admitting to it.

“Is that why you don’t mind being married to me?” He continues and you’re confused by the volume of questions coming your way- it’s more than he’s talked to you all week.

“Partly.” He smirks a little at the ego boost and places his hands on the back of his neck, arm muscles flexing as they’re extended. You trail a line from the centre of his chest down to his abdomen with the tip of your index finger, stopping as you reach the band of his boxers. You look up at him and he raises an eyebrow at you, almost daring you to go further. Toying with the band for a little while, you steel yourself and pull them down in one prompt motion. You have to hold in a wince as you take it in- in all its thick, veiny glory. With a shuddery breath, you savour the view before you: his strong, toned arms trailed down to his athletic torso, v-line achingly defined and sloping down to his large, pink-tipped member. “Even his dick is pretty.” You mentally cursed. His smirking, confident simper never faltered, not feeling a fragment of insecurity for even a moment.

Knowing you weren’t going to get any warming up from him, you lifted your hips and angled yourself up, tip kissing your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly sunk down on him, lowering yourself gradually until your bare skin brushed against the curls around the base of his cock. He shuts his eyes for a moment and exhales lightly, pretty lips forming into a small o shape. You try to subdue the overwhelming feeling of being filled so deeply, not wanting to stroke his ego even more than you already have. You begin to move, riding him very slowly and focusing on his chest as it rises and falls, eyes watering at the sensation of being stretched out. Worrying that he’s going to question why you’re going so slow, you begin to speed up even though it aches.

“Slow down.” He speaks softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“As if you care.” You huff.

“Don’t get on my bad side, Princess.” He shoots you a deadly glance and you slow back down, knowing better than to disobey him. It takes you a good while to accommodate to his size, oo’s and aa’s escaping your mouth every time you straighten up and sink down on his cock a little too deeply- but after the adjustment period, you start to ride him confidently. Your tits bounce with a hypnotising jiggle as you smack the flesh of your ass against his thighs, wetness drenching you both. Noticing how his arms lay by his side, you grab him by the wrist and lay them on your hips. He grips onto them slightly for a moment, but quickly releases and lets them fall back down to his sides. You whine a little, starved of affection. You were bouncing on his cock yet you still felt like you weren’t close.

“Please?” You moan.

“You wanted this, not me. I said I’m not participating, didn’t I?” His voice rings out, completely unaffected while you were a panting mess.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not- ah- enjoying it. F-feels good, doesn’t it?” You stutter, feeling his tip prodding that spongy spot within you that threatens to be your undoing.

“It’s fine.” He replies, still refusing to engage in any meaningful way.

“Oh come on, Anakin! Give me something.” You feel like you’re one snarky comment away from resorting to begging.

“I’ve given you my cock. What more do you want out of me?”

“I want you to talk to me, I want you to touch me. To be present!”

“And I want for my wife to not be such a whore.” Your mouth gapes open at his harsh words, but you continue bouncing, getting too close to stop now. “I mean seriously, you’re being held hostage and all you can think about is getting fucked? There’s nothing in that little brain of yours other than visions of me fucking you, is there? I’ve seen them.”

You moan at his degrading words- if you weren’t so cock drunk, you might be ashamed of the way you’re allowing him to speak to you.

“Oh my God, are you gonna cum from me talking down to you? Does me calling you a stupid whore get you off?” He rambles and you can’t stop yourself from turning into a whimpering mess, moans spilling out at every turn and unintelligible groans flooding the room as you bounce on his cock.

He reaches up towards you and you think he might be pulling you in for a kiss but instead, he hooks his fingers into the corners of your mouth, stretching it out. You babble out disjointed syllables, too overwhelmed to establish a rhythm that isn’t completely sloppy.

“The fuck are you even saying right now?” He laughs and oh god, there’s that smile again- if his cock wasn’t enough, now his grin is making your legs feel like jelly.

“What are these dumb little sounds you’re spluttering out? You sound like an idiot.” The lewd squelching noises increase in intensity as you fall apart on top of him in a sudden climax- pleasure hitting you like a truck and nearly knocking you out. You pant on top of him, trying to catch your breath with your head resting on his chest. He clears his throat after a minute and you shuffle off him, laying your head on the nearby pillow instead.

“Wow. That was…did you not cum?” It occurs to you that you’d just used him for your own pleasure.

“Of course not.” He gruffly responds, legs still spread and cock exposed, glistening with your arousal. “I have self control.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask and he turns to face you.

“You’re like a bitch in heat. It’s not very princess-like of you.”

“Well, I’m not a princess anymore. I’m a Sith Lord’s wife.” You counter.

“Wives don’t ride like that.” You know he didn’t mean it as a compliment but you chose to take it as one anyway.

“Aren’t you going to cover up?” You point at his exposed body while you clutch the crisp white sheets around yourself.

“Why should I?” He snaps back and you’re taken aback by his show of confidence. And you certainly weren’t complaining.

“Yeah, I bet you aren’t.”

“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that! It’s unnatural.” You complain.

“I don’t ordinarily pay such close attention to these things but your mind is so dirty.”

“Oh yeah? What have I been thinking about in the last couple minutes then?”

“You’ve been wondering how I’m both a shower and a grower, how you’ve never been so wet before - oh, and how you want to fuck me again.” Your cheeks redden at his painfully accurate observations- and you feel his vulgarity plant a renewed desire within you.

“Really, you want another round? Fine. Hop on.” He sighs, tapping his thigh. You stare at him affectionately with a smile as if to say “really?” and you clamber over him again. You only have to press your dripping body against him once and he quickly hardens again, tip oozing with precum. You waste no time impaling yourself, pussy swallowing him greedily- slightly sore but still stretched out enough to take him with ease.

“Anakin, please.” You mumble, reaching for his hands- needing to feel them on your skin.

“What do you want?” He replies breathily.

“Please, touch me.” You slide up and down his shaft, body racked with delirious pleasure. “Pleasepleaseplease - please Anakin!” He scoffs smilingly at how you’ve been reduced to a needy mess before he’s even put an ounce of effort in. “Do you want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees and beg- please, touch me just a little, please Ani-“

“Alright, alright, enough!” He stops you and you wince at his harsh tone, wishing that just for once, he’d be gentle with you.

“I’m sorry, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He reaches out and wraps his hands around your dainty waist, right arm gradually trailing up your body. His knuckles brush against your cheek tenderly before he wraps his strong hand around your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss. You squeak in shock at the unexpected affection as your breasts press against his chest, one hand squishing your soft flesh and the other wrapped up in your hair.

“Mmm, Ani.” You hum, your deepest craving finally quelled.

“No one’s called me that in a really long time.” He mumbles into the kiss, sliding both hands down to your ass cheeks and gripping them firmly.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks as he slides you on and off him, commanding your movements with his strong grasp.

“Oh God yes, fuck Ani- ah.” You gasped as he began lifting his hips and fucking his cock into you, fingernails digging into your hips. “‘m not gonna last much longer if you keep go -oh, just like th- aah.”

“You don’t need to.” He whines, finally allowing himself to utter his own sweet sounds.

“Nuh uh, I-I want you to cum with me.” You whimper in his ear as you wrap your arms around his neck. Cradling you, he wraps one arm around your back and rests his other hand on the back of your head while drilling you with such vigour you almost black out.

“Shh, baby, shh- ’s okay.” He moans and your walls flutter at the heavenly sound. Try as you may, you can’t stop the drool that streams out of your mouth, fucked so dumb that you’re losing control over your senses.

“You’re close, can feel you gripping me.” He sputters, barely audible over the sound of your squeals. “You want the whole ship to hear you, huh?”

“I want them all to know who I belong to.” You manage to get out clearly, trying to get a handle on your faculties. Rising up from being tucked into his neck, you start bouncing on him with the excitement of a little bunny, so desperate to bring him to his release. You look down at him, eyes screwed shut, gnawing on his bottom lip and you feel how furiously his eager cock throbs inside you.

“Want you to fill me up.” You warble, dropping your hands to lay on either side of his face, soft locks brushing against your wrists. “I wanna be yours.” You stare into his eyes, which have just fluttered open, eyebrows knitted close together.

“You’re already mine.” He whispers, grabbing you by the waist and turning you over in one swift motion, your back hitting the plumpness of the bed. Before you can take a breath, he slams into you again and your back arches from the overstimulation.

Hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you deeper into him, he roughly pounds against you, cock gliding into your sensitive core. You try to focus yourself, gnawing on your lip and mentally repeating: “You can’t cum this quickly again.”

“Oh yes, you can.” He asserts mischievously, speeding up his sloppy strokes until your eyes roll to the back of your head. You grip the sheets around you, trying desperately to hold on for just a few seconds longer.

“Don’t you dare.” He growls, slapping against you roughly. Beads of sweat trickle down his defined pecs, down to the creamy mess where your bodies meet. With one final gloopy thrust, you scream out his name and collapse entirely, body convulsing with pleasure as he moans at the sight, burying his face into your thigh.

“Goddamn…” You hear him mutter as he continues using your body like a toy, dragging you onto him in a way that you don’t even notice in your cock drunk stupor. You hear a glorious groan escape his lips as he pulls out, painting your body with his creamy white cum.

“Why’d you pull out?” You whine, completely spent and feeling woefully empty now that your bodies weren’t connected anymore.

“You know why.” He exhales as his head hits the pillow beside you. “I refuse to let a child come into this.” You huff a little but feel too exhausted to argue.

Shuffling over, you test his boundaries by leaning your head against his shoulder. When he noticeably stiffens and backs away a little, you sit up hastily to face him.

“Really, Anakin? You’re still not comfortable around me?”

“I’m as comfortable as I need to be.” He murmurs and you let out a fussy whine.

“I’ve just given myself to you entirely and you can’t even hold me after? Please, Ani, you’re making me feel really-“

“Fine! If it’ll get you to be quiet.” He pulls you in swiftly, his strong arm wrapped around you protectively and you let out a satisfied hum while he shakes his head- no doubt wondering how he got stuck with such a petulant child.

The days that followed were full of you waltzing around the ship, lost in your daydreams. Anakin had been dispatched to a different system for a mission and much to your displeasure, wouldn’t return for several days yet; you never knew exactly how long his journeys would last, you only knew they were doubtlessly too long. You missed him dearly - and if the way he hugged you back before he left was any indication- you were growing on him too.

After enthusiastically getting through the book Anakin recommended, he told you that he’d left a stack out by his desk in the library- a personally hand-picked selection that he believed you’d enjoy. Your heart fluttered at the thought and you felt yourself keenly gliding over to it. You reminisced fondly about the way his soft hair felt when it brushed through your hands, how his dreamy eyes made you weak at the knees- how he had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. You didn’t realise it was possible for someone to be so perfect- so what if he had an unsavoury pastime? It was a flaw you were willing to overlook if it meant you got to wake up next to that face.

Entering the library, you hum a chirpy song and float over to the desk where you find a neat pile of books in varying colours and sizes. Just as you were about to pick the first one out of the stack, Silas rushes in- scruffy and disorganised, looking over his shoulder.

“Princess! Princess, you must hurry. They’re here- they’re finally here.” He sputters, grabbing onto your wrist like a madman and leading you out.

“Slow down! What’s going on?” You question, wondering why you were running along with him.

“Oh but we must be quick, the stormtroopers can only be held off for so long! Sabe is leading the distraction-“

“What are you talking about?”

“Word finally reached them, they’re finally here!”

“Who? Who’s here?” You shout back, brain spinning in confusion.

“The Senate has sent an army - a rescue team for you!” Silas stares at you with crazed eyes, sweating with anxiety. “We can finally go home!”

“W-what?” You stutter, allowing him to lead you out to the docking bay where you can see a battleship undoubtedly belonging to the Galactic Republic- suspended midair awaiting boarding.

“Wait, wait, no.” You backtrack but the grip Silas has around your wrist is too strong to easily break from.

“You don’t mean to tell me you wish to stay here with that brute?” He glances back at you, face painted with disgust as he pushes on for the last few metres left until you reach the ship. “He doesn’t care about you.”

“That’s not true!” You shout, propellers buzzing over you with a furious intensity.

“Is that so? Then why isn’t he putting up a fight right now?” He gestures behind you and you turn around to where the observatory window is. There he is, standing behind the glass, looking at you calmly.

“Do you see? He doesn’t even care enough to stop you!” Silas digs his fingernails into your wrist as you reach the ship, doors unloading with a steamy hiss. “Get in!” He yells, pushing you forward with all his might.

He’s letting you go. He’s letting you leave.

“No!” You fight back, striking Silas across the face and sprinting out of his reach as soon as his grasp on you loosens.

“You idiot! Stay here and rot with those Sith devils!” He curses, clambering up the stairs and smacking the handle, signalling for them to shut. Tears course roughly down your face as you stand back and see the ship ascending before darting off into the distance in a beaming flash. Turning around, you run as fast as your feet will carry you, scrambling up to the observatory to the man you’d just abandoned life as you knew it for.

Throwing the doors open, you see him: mouth parted, eyebrows raised and a singular tear rolling down his cheekbone. You jump into his arms, colliding and entangling yourself with him.

“Why did you do that, huh?!” He grabs your face with both hands, kissing you desperately. “Why would you do something so stupid?” You break out into a sob as he mumbles against your lips. “I would’ve let you go, you could’ve left.”

“I know, that’s why I stayed.” You wrap your hands around his own, still in a firm grip around your face. “I love you, Ani.” You gaze up at him with such adoration he feels his cold heart bursting.

“I love you too.”

As soon as the words leave his beautiful lips, you leap to kiss them- trying desperately to memorise every detail and every sensation that belonged to this moment.

“I-I thought you would’ve surely left if you could.” He murmurs, struggling to break away from your lips. “Thought you were jus’ making the most out of a bad situation.”

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You say sincerely, hoping he could feel the love you have for him pouring out of you.

“I don’t believe my eyes.” A dreaded raspy voice resonates across the room. “The Princess has fallen in love with my apprentice. And he seems to love her back? Now this is just precious.” Anakin stands in front of you protectively, pushing you back.

“She will prove to be useful in the future.” The Emperor hisses, glaring at you with an empty hunger in his eyes. “Now that she has demonstrated her loyalty.”

“It’s the last show of loyalty you’ll ever see.” Anakin spits as he draws his lightsaber from the left belt hook on his robes and strikes Palpatine, beheading him in one swift motion before he can even register what’s struck him.

“He always taught me that even the most powerful of enemies can be defeated-“ He turns to face you, retracting his glowing lightsaber. “with the element of surprise.”

A twisted grin creeps up on your face as he swoops you up like a true bride- lifting you with a firm hold and carrying you out of the room while you wrap your arms around his neck, planting kisses all over.

“I think it’s high time me and my wife got some privacy, don’t you think?” He gestures at the incoming stormtroopers, who confusedly back away after spotting Palpatine’s decapitated body. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You giggle as he carries you to your chambers, throwing you onto the bed and peering out of the large doors one last time before shutting them with a loud clamber- ah, free from disturbance at last.

@erinkeifer @crazy4men @mortalheartache @arzua10

#hayden christensen #star wars fanfiction #darth vader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #anakin x you #star wars smut #sam monroe #life as a house #anakin x reader smut #anakin fluff #sw anakin #star wars anakin #darth vader smut

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r0-boat · 10 months

Text

Take it

Oc: yan! Dragon prince Silas x gn!reader.

Summary: he loses it in a jealous rage. A hand around your throat he reminds you of who you belong to.

Cw: noncon/dubcon, yandere, mentions of free use, choking, degrading, lots of name-calling, mating press, mentions of pet play, rough sex.

Minors dont interact with 18+ content.

Those violet eyes glow with a dangerous light as he looks down on you. The prince carelessly sheds his armor, laying it dropped on the floor. "Strip," He commands coldly, his chest rising and falling as he looks at you as if he is ready to devour you at any moment. You only hesitate for a second before he loses his patience.

"I said Strip, Slut, or do you wish those clothes would be ripped off your body? I assure you, If I get my hands on them, you won't be wearing clothes for the next week." He growled. You could already see his hands and arms darkening as black scales began to replace his skin, his nails sharpening into claws.

Your heart quickens, and your chest and your hands shake as you begin to disrobe in front of him. His gaze softens for only a moment, no matter how much he's seen you naked, he'll never get over the sight of your gorgeous body. He would love to kiss and caress every each of your skin and worship you like he always does, but today you don't get that privilege.

" So perfect and It's all for me, right?"

You immediately respond, getting goosebumps when his claws graze over your thighs. " Yes all for you."

That soft look in his eyes disappears, replaced with anger. Gritting his teeth, he pounces on you. A clawed hand goes around your throat, slamming you down into the bed, his leg pressed right up against your crotch as he snarls, "Lies!"

You struggle to breathe as he squeezes down on your neck, not enough to hurt you but pretty damn close. Your nails clawing against his arm did nothing against those obsidian scales.

"If you're truly mine, then you won't look at another man. If you are truly mine, I won't catch you talking to other royalty when I grant you the privilege to attend parties as my partner."

A twisted smirk grows on his face. Giving you a full view of his fangs.

"Do I have to leash and collar you? Treat you as nothing more than a pet; your only job is to warm my bed and cock. I want to love you, I want to cherish you, I want to worship you, but I'm not opposed to treating you like a common whore."

When he finally lets go of your neck, you start coughing immediately, taking in as much air as you can. Silas presses his hand against your crotch you instinctively grind against his palm.

Even now he still craves gentle your touch. His cock is swollen and dripping, throbbing with need swelling larger with each twitch as he continues to change to a more hybrid shape. You could see the horns beginning to sprout from his head. Do you know what you do to him? Only you make him lose control like this.

"I'm going..." his breath shakes as he continues his growls becoming more inhuman.

" I'm going to mate with you. And you are going to take it. I'll make you understand that you are mine."

You were but a rag doll in his hands as he moved you to suit his putting a leg over his shoulder, his cock grinds against your entrance. Fighting back would only worsen your fate. With his brute strength alone, Silas could easily break your bones with one hand. When he grabbed your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head, you were entirely at his mercy. Stroking his drooling cock. He positions it just right above your entrance, the tip just barely kissing your tight hole.

This time he was gentle, slowly pushing it inside you feeling every ridge against your walls. In this form, he was so much bigger but had trained you to take every inch. However, it was still a tight squeeze. He usually gave you a moment to get used to his size. But unfortunately, you won't get that luxury; as soon as he's deep inside you, he immediately begins to move. With nothing to grab onto, you squirmed and writhed underneath him, his hips slamming into yours.

With his only hand free, he plays with your chest pinching, twisting, and pressing your nipple before doing the same to your other. Making you mewl as he hits that sweet spot inside, driving you over that edge and coming on his cock. Silas couldn't hold back his moans of pleasure, feeling your gummy walls milk his cock. His eyebrows, his mouth open, almost drooling. His eyes drink every delicious reaction you make. He wants more, to give you more pleasure, make you take more of him. He lifts your other leg putting it over his shoulder. He leans forward, practically folding you, drilling his cock deep inside you. Forcing your tight hole to take more of him.

"H-haha! I-I am the only one who can make you feel like this! If you can't remember my love, then remember how good I make you feel, how hard you cum around me. How drooly and stupid you get when I'm balls deep inside you." Silas babbled, finally leaving your nipples alone to brush your hair between his fingers, your drool smearing against his palm when you rested your head against his hand. Your legs shake as he brutally pounds you through your orgasm.

He could feel himself getting close. He chases his orgasm, his thrusts becoming wild and erratic before slamming one final time cumming deep inside of you.

Despite wanting to keep going, to use you till you can't move. He still had too much to do, but that didn't mean he couldn't punish you.

Finally, letting go of your wrists and taking his cock out of you. Seeing his cum running out of your used hole, Silas gets off of your shuddering body typically; the prince with scoops you up into his arms, giving you soft kisses while he draws you a bath or stays in your arms to cuddle with you. Still, this time you were just met with his cold gaze as he begins Gathering his clothes. While you lay there idly in the now ruined silk sheets.

"As punishment, I'm stripping you of your freedoms. You are prohibited from leaving this room unless I tell you so; at 1:00, I'll be in my study. When I walk in that room, I expect you to be there on your knees and your mouth open."

#oc x reader smut #oc:silas #yandere oc #male yandere #dragon oc #prince oc #male oc #original character x reader #oc smut #smut #ro.ocs

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whumpy-wyrms · 1 month

Text

Blood Runs Cold #1: You’re All Mine

masterlist | next

content: death, gore, dead bodies, blood drinking, cannibalism, cold whump, claustrophobia, nonsexual nudity, begging, manhandling, invasion of privacy, drugging, defiant immortal whumpee, creepy possessive vampire whumper

NEW SERIES!! very excited about this :D i explained a bit about it here if you wanna read that, but you don’t have to!

—

It was just another normal night at the morgue for Silas. There must’ve been an accident earlier, leaving two humans dead and transported straight to his doorstep, lifeless and completely at his mercy.

Two humans. One male, one female, both seemingly in their early 20s with no obvious signs of death. Their clothes and possessions were tossed to the side, discarded and unneeded. Silas began his work, filling the air with the sounds of pens on clipboards and scalpels on skin. His work was meticulous, practiced, quick. The causes of death was something he had never cared to ponder over; just an observation, just another thing to write down in the reports.

No, there was something else about this work that captivated Silas, something that was only reinforced by these two humans. The work was morbid, dark, disturbing. He wasn’t in it for the money, or for some strange fascination he had with the human body, no. He was in it for the blood, and these humans would provide him with more than enough.

Two perfect humans. They had been delivered by the hospital, but there was nobody here to claim them, to name them. These bodies were without a family, without anyone to identify them, or plan a burial for them. These bodies had been abandoned by their own kind. And that’d only meant they were free for the taking.

Two corpses: flesh, guts, bones and all. Nobody would come looking for these poor souls. They were all for him.

Just like every time he had finished the proper paperwork and preparations, Silas dug into his new meal. In ravaging hunger, the vampire teared through the flesh of the corpses, savoring every moment. His glowing red eyes turned to slits, wild and monstrous as he fed, losing every sense of humanity he had left. Nothing about this was clean, tidy, proper. Silas was a vampire– a monster– and he would feast like one.

As he sucked both of the corpses dry of their sweet blood, he couldn’t help but savor the shorter one’s taste. It was delicious. It was divine. He couldn’t imagine what it would've tasted like when they were alive. But it was too late now, he supposed.

Silas picked up the smaller human’s body, brushing his hand over the other’s cold, unmoving face. The thing’s eyes were wide and lifeless, but full of color in this dull place. Silas stared for a moment, noticing something unique about this human; that one eye was green, the other blue. What fascinating, yet helpless creatures, they never ceased to surprise him. He laid the bloody body in one of the mortuary freezers, gently shutting their eyelids closed, and did the same with the other.

Silas licked his lips, relishing the last of his free meal. Sure, the blood of all the corpses that came here was always stale, old, dead. But it was far safer than hunting for humans in town and risking getting killed by the vampire hunters that lurked in the shadows. Of course, Silas couldn’t always hold back his yearn for fresh blood or the thrill of the hunt, but the corpses here held him off and kept him safe.

Silas, well fed for the night, went to sleep as the sun rose over his graveyard.

. . .

Aspen woke to dead silence. And cold. His limbs felt frozen, numb, hard to even move from their position. He was so cold that he felt like it was a miracle he was even alive.

The next thing Aspen noticed was that he was laying flat on a hard surface, which was also ice cold to the touch. He blinked his eyes, but found nothing but complete darkness all around him. Trying to sit up, Aspen bumped his head on a surface only inches above him.

Aspen’s heart started racing. He felt around with his arms, and realized his entire body was completely enclosed, metal walls surrounding every side of him. He was trapped.

“H-hey!” Aspen called out, his voice feeling strained with disuse, but loud and echoey in the quiet air. “Help! L-Let me out! Is anybody there? Hello?” Aspen’s pleads were met with nothing but an eerie silence.

Tears pricked in Aspen’s eyes when he realized nobody was coming to help. His chest heaved rapidly, breath hitching in his throat. He needed to get out of here. Aspen panicky kicked and scratched against his cold prison, but nothing budged. His heartbeat quickened when he realized he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

He was covered in nothing but a thin white sheet that was draped over his head and ran all the way down to his ankles. It did nothing to drown out the chill, so all he had left was to weep in despair. “Let me out! Anybody! Lyle! Please!” Aspen continued to kick and struggle, but it was no use.

Nobody answered his calls. Nobody answered his pleads for help. Aspen was all alone.

. . .

Silas woke to blood-curdling screaming. And living in a morgue that was always filled with lifeless, decaying corpses, this was a bad sign. Silas made sure nothing ever made any noises in this place because he preferred the dead silence. Nobody else was even supposed to be here.

Silas slowly climbed out of his coffin, covering his ears from that annoying, incessant screaming. He pointed his nose upward and sniffed through the air. Human.

Well, whatever poor soul that had happened to wander into this place after hours was fair game to him. It was the vampire’s dinner, now. Silas licked his lips and began making his way down the stairs.

Once he reached the main floor, Silas could hear the human’s rapid heart, beating through his ears. He could practically smell their fear, but they were nowhere to be seen. Surveying his surroundings, Silas realized the banging and scratching was coming from one of the freezer cabinets, the ones that stored corpses.

But whatever was in there was alive.

Well, that wasn’t right. The two humans from last night were long dead, and Silas had made sure to bleed them both dry. There was no possible way for another human to get in here without alerting him, especially since those freezers were locked shut.

Silas walked through the room, his footsteps echoing off the walls. The vampire couldn’t help but smile; the soft whimpering and cries for help sounded like music to his ears, he almost wanted to leave the human locked in there for a little while longer. It wasn’t often he had live prey.

Silas plucked his keys from the wall, and walked lazily to the freezers. The human’s helpless little noises came to a stop, as if whoever was in there noticed there was someone else in the room and was waiting patiently to be let out. Now standing right outside his little accidental captive, Silas recognised their scent as a corpse from the night prior.

Silas was a few hundred years old. He’d seen the undead– he was the undead– something like this wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibilities. But he’d usually be able to tell if someone was a supernatural creature like him. They looked human, smelled human, tasted human, but may have just cheated death itself. Something strange was happening here, and Silas was thrilled to get to the bottom of it.

He clicked the key in place, unlocking the freezer and hearing the human’s heartbeat speed up in anticipation. Silas quickly pulled out the drawer with a whoosh, the sudden motion causing the human to shriek in surprise, falling out of the shelf and landing roughly on the floor.

Silas tilted his head, intrigued. This was the human from last night, without a doubt. But their body was completely intact, to the looks of it. Their heart was still pumping, blood flowing through their body and eyes filled with more life than Silas had ever seen. His little snack really had come back from the dead.

“Agh! H-hey…” The human stammered, holding the white sheet tightly over their body. They looked around the room with a wary expression, eyes wide and alert. Using the wall for support, they stumbled up on shaking legs and slowly started backing away from Silas. “Wh-what’s going on? Where am I? Who are you?” The human asked in their soft, shaky voice.

Silas ignored their questions and started slowly creeping towards them. The human’s breath hitched and they scurried away in fear, sheet dragging behind them. Despite it being mid-day, the room was completely dark; windows covered in thick curtains to keep out the sunlight, but Silas could see everything just fine. The human ran blindly through the room until seemingly tripping over their own feet.

Silas smiled as his captive gasped in pain, landing roughly on the cold floor. He flicked on the light, and watched their wandering eyes land on a small piece of paper attached to their foot. They ripped it off, looking it over in their hands confusingly. It was a tag. Silas could almost see the gears turning in the poor thing’s little head as their eyes went wide in horrified realization.

Once the human had noticed Silas stalking towards them, it was too late; they were already cornered. They pulled the sheet tighter over their body and curled up in a trembling ball.

Silas loomed over his prey, taking in their shivering form, and they looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “What’s a little thing like you doing in a place like this?” Silas teased, face filled with mock sympathy, already knowing the answer.

The human cowered under the vampire’s predatory gaze. “I– I don’t… I just woke up in there…” They whispered. “What’s going on? Wh-Where are my clothes? It’s– It’s freezing in here.”

Silas smiled and crouched down in front of them, making his prey squirm under his stare. “Aww, you don’t remember? I ripped you to shreds last night.” Silas hummed, smiling menacingly. “I tore your body inside out. You should not be alive right now.”

“What–”

Faster than the human could comprehend, Silas ripped the sheet away, needing to get a look at their body. To his surprise, they were completely healed. No wounds, dried blood, or scar in sight. It was as if they had never been dead in the first place.

“Hey!” The human exclaimed, horrified, and yanked that flimsy thing back– as if that would keep them safe. “What the fuck?!”

Silas smirked. “Feisty one, aren't you?”

“What– just stop! Tell me what’s going on!” The human looked around the room in a panic, seemingly searching for something– or someone. “And where’s– where’s Lyle?”

“Who?”

“My friend.” They seethed, but their anger couldn’t hide their fear. “S-Something happened. I don’t… Just– tell me why I’m here! I wanna go home. Tell me what’s happening!”

The human let out a gasp as they felt a sudden sharp sting on their cheek. Silas had slapped them. “Shut up.”

The human brought their hand to their cheek, fresh tears forming in their eyes. “B-But–”

Silas wrenched his fist in the other’s hair, yanking their head back. “You want me to tell you what happened? You died, human,” The vampire hissed. “You’re in a morgue. You were brought here yesterday by the hospital. Nobody identified you, nobody claimed your body, nobody came to pay respects. So I drained your blood like I do to every corpse.”

Silas smiled and poked his captive in the stomach playfully. “As well as take a bit more than what I normally do. It was the most delicious blood I've ever tasted, and it smells even better now that you’re alive. I can’t imagine what it tastes like now.”

“Wait, y-you… You’re a–”

“Yes. I’m a vampire. Took you long enough.” Silas grinned, showing his fangs. “And you wanna know what? I can hear your little heart racing, human. I know how terrified you are of me right now, and that fear is intoxicating.”

“You– You’re lying. This isn’t real, I didn’t die. Just leave m-me alone.”

“Oh, human, but that’s where you’re wrong.” Silas said in a sickeningly sweet voice. “This is as real as it can be. You came back from the dead, and I am going to savor every moment of draining the life back out of you.”

Silas crawled closer, gaze turning predatory and deadly. Despite being locked in a cold freezer all day and night, the little thing’s heart was still pumping warm blood through their veins. All for him. Silas couldn’t wait to get another taste.

His prey scrambled backwards, wincing as they backed themself against the wall. “St-Stay away from me.”

“You’re in no position to make demands, little one. I can do whatever I want with you. You’re all mine.” Then, the vampire pounced, eyes wild and animalistic. Silas dug his nails into the human’s back, holding them close and making them scream in agony. With his other hand, he gripped onto their hair and wretched their pale neck to the side.

Being this close to a live human, it was hard to resist the warmth that radiated off of them. Silas’ usual prey was cold, dead corpses, and he’d never had enough time to relish in the warmth of the human body while hunting outside. But this? This was a real treat. And hearing the little thing’s heart flutter in terror was always the best part of the hunt.

His human struggled against Silas’ grip, kicking and scratching in a futile attempt to get away. That only made this feast more thrilling. Silas clamped his fangs into their neck, tearing into their flesh as if they were nothing but a piece of meat made to be eaten.

His prey screamed in excruciating pain, pushing their weak arms against Silas’ body, fighting with everything they had. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t even close to enough. Silas yanked his hand from their back, licking the blood from his fingers and using that hand to muffle the human’s screams.

Silas bit down again, sucking more blood from the human’s veins. They were sobbing into his hand, salty tears running down their chin. This only made Silas squeeze harder, his nails breaking their skin and drawing more blood.

He couldn’t take it anymore, it was time to dig in. Silas pushed the human flat on their back and crawled over them. He clawed into their chest cavity with superhuman strength, tearing through flesh and muscle and bones until he got to the heart. Silas paid no mind to the human’s sputtering breath as he reached into the viscera and pulled out their beating heart. He slowly squeezed the life out of it, watching the light fade from the human’s wide eyes, and took a bite.

After a while, Silas stood, panting, and wiped the blood from his face with his equally bloody sleeve. He laughed softly to himself, it had been a long time since he’d experienced a feeding that exhilarating. He needed more.

Silas left the corpse slumped against the wall as he fetched the little thing’s belongings, the sound of blood splashing under his boots echoing through the room. Only a couple things arrived with them the day prior; their phone, wallet, glasses, and of course the clothes on their back. Silas grabbed their phone and walked back to the corpse. He held their head up with their hair, and unlocked their phone using face ID. Silas smiled; he was in. This human was making this so easy for him.

Silas had usually never cared about the bodies that were transported here, and the lives that they had lived. They were nothing but food to him. But this was a special case. Silas wanted to learn as much information about this human as possible, and what better way to start than their name?

Aspen. Aspen Marlow. Cute.

Looking through Aspen’s phone, Silas found no new messages or calls, nobody checking in to see if they were okay despite being gone for well over two days now. In fact, the poor thing only seemed to have one close friend; a girl named Lyle Berkley. Neither of their names supposedly reflected the names on their legal documents, but that didn’t matter. Looking through Aspen’s photos, Silas found that the two of them did everything together.

They were inseparable, even up until their mysterious deaths, the two of them never left each other’s sides. It was obvious now that Lyle had been the other body transported here with Aspen. But unlike Aspen, she had never woken up.

Silas sauntered over to Lyle’s body, but before he even arrived, he could tell just from the smell that she was still dead. Ah, no matter. Silas only needed the one human anyway. He locked the taller corpse away in a freezer and went back to the main attraction.

Silas sat and observed Aspen’s corpse for hours, watching in morbid curiosity as their body began to heal itself. The blood eventually dried over his wounds, and the flesh mended itself back together. It took all day, but when all the scars but one faded, the human looked good as new.

Aspen was still dead, though. Silas picked up the body and moved it away from the puddle of blood. He retrieved their clothes— a green dinosaur hoodie and baggy blue jeans— and put them on Aspen.

Then, Silas continued scrolling through their phone, waiting for his little human to wake up.

. . .

After only a few more hours, the human began to stir. Silas dropped everything he was doing and kneeled beside Aspen, staring at the boy intently. His heart had started beating, slowly and faintly at first, hardly noticeable. But now, the little thing’s heart was racing.

Aspen turned over in his sleep, groaning in pain and mumbling to himself. Silas scoffed and roughly shook the human awake, watching him blink up at him with those weird eyes of his.

Aspen immediately flinched back, eyes going wide in the terror Silas loved. “Y-You! Get away from me!”

Silas only inched closer, the maniacal look on his face filling Aspen with dread. The vampire was giddy with excitement. “You’re awake. You’re alive!”

“Y-yeah, I am! So- so just leave me alone! Please! I don’t know what you want from me!” Aspen had barely been awake for a minute and he already wished he could disappear. His head ached, his memories felt foggy and far away. Thinking back, all he could recall was pain and agony. And…

Death. He had died.

Aspen blinked. His death hurt to think about, so he didn’t. He’d also rather ignore the vampire’s ecstatic expression and blood red eyes piercing into him.

Looking past the vampire, Aspen realized he was still in the same room, just stuffed in a different corner. He was thankful to have his clothes back, though. Aspen pulled his hoodie strings tight, relishing in the small comfort it gave him. Though, nothing could beat the cold.

“Aspen,” Silas hummed. “You’re not going to just ignore me and expect to get away with it.”

“Huh?” Aspen mumbled into his hoodie. “How do you even know my name?”

The vampire chuckled deeply. “I know everything about you, Aspen.”

Aspen looked up. “What? H-How?”

Silas smiled mischievously and pulled out Aspen’s phone from his pocket. “I’ve seen what you post on social media, human. And I have your wallet.” Silas’ smile widened as Aspen’s face warped in horror. “Aspen Marlow. Age twenty, born and raised here in Toronto Canada. You were born July 25–”

“Hey!” Aspen exclaimed with a shaky voice, sitting up. “That’s private! Give it back! It’s mine!” Silas stood, towering over him.

“--And you died yesterday, October first. You’re supposed to be dead, Aspen,” The vampire said in a sickeningly sweet voice. “Dead people don’t have possessions.”

“Please just give it–” Aspen tried to grab his phone, and Silas swiped his hand away, lazily walking around behind him. Aspen turned, glaring at the vampire in a fiery anger. Silas looked the human up and down in consideration. “Still have some spark left in you, do you now?”

“I– Just give me back my stuff!”

Silas tapped Aspen’s phone with his nails, and continued talking in his smooth tone. “Your entire life’s in this thing, huh? Seems so. I know all about you now. All your darkest secrets, all your deepest desires. Your hobbies, your dreams, what you love, what you hate.” Silas smirked wickedly. “Your nightmares, your weaknesses, your fears…”

Aspen’s voice wobbled. “Hey–”

“You wanna know what else I know, Aspen? You’re a nobody. A complete fucking nobody. Nobody’s looking for you. Nobody cares that you’re dead. I’m surprised you managed to have such a close friendship with, ah, who was it? Lyle? I feel bad for her for–”

“Stop!” Aspen shouted, attempting to push Silas to the ground. The vampire didn’t even budge.

Silas blinked. “Wow. Okay. Here you go.” Silas held out the human’s phone in his hand lazily. As Aspen reached out for it, the vampire swiftly snapped the thing in half before Aspen could grab it, dropping the pieces to the ground.

“Hey!” Aspen cried. Silas smirked as the human dropped to his knees, picking up the remains of his phone. “No! Why did you do that?!” The human babbled incomprehensible nonsense about his friend, looking up at Silas with tears in his eyes as the vampire circled him. It was pathetic.

Silas sighed and knelt down, cupping the human’s face in his hands. “Calm down. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“What– what happened to Lyle? Where is she? What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” Silas cooed, patting Aspen’s cheek. “I have no idea who you’re talking about. Don’t worry about her.”

“Just let me go. What do you even w-want with me?”

Silas grinned. “Don’t you see, Aspen? I finally have a solution to all of my problems. You can’t die! No matter how much blood I take, you’ll just keep coming back and giving me more.”

Aspen’s face fell in despair. “N-No. You can’t.”

“I won’t have to drink the disgusting blood from the corpses anymore, or hunt and risk being killed by those incessant hunters. I have an infinite source of the most fresh, tastiest blood I’ve ever had right in the palm of my hands. Nobody will be coming to look for you because you’re dead, Aspen. I will never let you go.”

“No, p-please,” Aspen cried. “You can’t do this. I wanna go home.”

“Shhh,” Silas cooed. “You’re mine. This is your home now.” Silas chuckled deeply, voice getting darker. “And you’ll learn to like it here.”

Silas grabbed the human’s wrist and yanked him forward. Aspen whimpered, feeling a deep sense of dread in his stomach. Silas considered him a moment, and gently sunk his teeth into his veins. But this feeding felt different to Aspen. His neck started to feel numb where he had been bitten, and that feeling slowly spread to the rest of his body. After a moment, Aspen slumped forward against Silas’ body, mumbling broken pleas under his breath.

“Wh… what’s happening to me?” Aspen whimpered, eyelids drooping. He pushed weakly against the vampire, but he was far too cold and sleepy to fight back.

“Don’t struggle, Aspen. Let me enjoy this.”

“P-please…”

“You like it, don’t you? I told you you would. Just relax, Aspen. Let the venom do its work.”

Aspen struggled to keep his eyes open, blinking rapidly through tears. He shivered against the vampire’s cold body. Then, the poor thing finally succumbed to the venom, all the fight left in him completely drained. His head slowly lolled to the side as he lost consciousness. Silas continued drinking, basking in his sweet blood, until he felt Aspen’s little heart beating no more.

Silas smiled, licked the wound closed, and ruffled the corpse’s hair. He had almost never used venom on his prey, but playing with his food was all part of the fun.

Silas hauled Aspen over his shoulder and walked across the room. He wrenched the door to the basement open, and shoved the corpse inside. The thing toppled down the stairs like a stack of bricks, blood painting its path. The corpse landed on the concrete floor, pale and lifeless.

The vampire shut the door. The sound of a lock clicking shut echoed through the room, and Silas once again trapped Aspen somewhere cold and dark, all alone.

—

hope everyone likes the first chapter!! i have sooo much planned for this series so stay tuned :) i don’t mind being sent requests about what you wanna see with these characters either!

Taglist: nonexistent so far, let me know if you wanna be added :)

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reesevernerlovebot · 2 months

Text

The Fernweh Saga by @lacunafiction

Name: Alex "Lexy" Koslinski (they/them)

Personality: Snarky - Cautious - Aloof - Pessimistic - Merciful - Flirtatious

Traits: Heart - Independent - Resistant - Skeptic

Past Affinity: Piano

Primary Ability: Retrocognition

Past Susceptibility: Buried :p

Social Dynamics + Rambles under the cut

Social Dynamics (as of Book 1):

Becca Warrick:

After seeing Alex zone out the entire day after reading that "condolence letter", Becca sees it as her mission to accompany them in a makeshift roadtrip.

Alex is extremely grateful for Becca's comforting (grounding) presence while in Fernweh, a place that is now unfamiliar. Alex knows their self-isolating tendencies were one of the reasons Becca wanted to stick close, but they don't fault her for it.

Alex feels responsible for Becca's well-being the same way, since they knew the Fernweh citizens wouldn't be as hospitable as the Dorran family. They are both ride-or-die for each other.

If Alex thought leaving Fernweh would be bittersweet, having doomed Becca to being stuck in town it's only bitter.

Silas Dorran:

Silas and Alex were both on the quieter side, but that didn't stop them from bonding over their shared interests.

They would both spend afternoons reading quietly together, or having Alex infodump about the different mythologies and tales their Grandpa taught them.

The years away have made Silas harder to read, for Alex at least, but they still hold onto those fond memories.

Also Alex wants to let it be known that if Silas hasn't asked to borrow that encyclopedia, they would've snatched it for themself.

Reese Verner:

Oh how to even begin describing Reese Verner? Alex never understood why a Verner would even care about them, let alone see them as an opponent in any way, and yet a rivalry blossomed between them. He could make them flip between (very) begrudging fondness and exasperated annoyance in a heartbeat.

Alex wasn't sure WHEN they developed a crush on their rival, but they knew it was something they were going to take to their grave. Being forced to leave Fernweh came earlier though.

Almost a decade passing can do wonders for an one-sided crush, but having to return to Fernweh changed things again. Their childhood rival was flirting? With them???

With a mix of disbelief, a rare feeling of insecurity and something bordering almost on denial, they try not to get their hopes up. They HAD to leave in a week, after all. When they shake Reese's hand they can’t help but wonder if it's perhaps for the best...

Jane Corvin:

Their best friend! Their favorite person ever! Or so it's what they would've said had they been asked years ago. Alex saw Jane as essentially a platonic soulmate, even daydreaming of moving in together when they grow up.

The house fire was hard, but leaving without saying goodbye was somehow harder, something they still harbor some guilt over even if irrationally. The only thing left from those years of friendship being a necklace they couldn't even bear to wear nor throw away.

Seeing Jane after all those years left a bittersweet taste. Alex didn't know where they would fit in her life, if they would still fit in her life, (they would have to leave again, they shouldn't, couldn't stay).

Their dynamic still has some lingering awkwardness from the years away, but Alex wants to make up for the absence. It's the least she deserves.

The Waiter:

Their interest in the elusive waiter isn't completely physical in nature. He also makes them feel deeply intrigued.

Ramble and random thoughts:

Why don't they remember ever meeting or seeing him around? Why does he seem to know so much?

Ignoring their instincts, their caution and the voice in their head warning them about stranger danger (it sounds suspiciously like Becca), they accept his drink.

Their curiosity got the best of them, that and this strange allure that seems to draw them together. Spending some more time together could be the thing that makes them able to decipher him.

Ok so, my favorite TFS ability is actually Empathetic Impressions BUT I decided to make Retrocognition Alex's canon one. Why?

Because it is the one most similar to their Grandpa's :3

Impressions is more emotion-based and the other one feels more... instinct-based? So I wanted a time-related to match with their Grandpa's weird future-sight thing. Especially because Alex has their Issues and Grudges tm towards him. It rubs salt in the wound c:

That's also why I made their Past Susceptibility be Buried. I thought it would be funny to make the person trying to repress their past have an ability to Literally see into the past.

I also made them have high Skeptic stats because they don't want to become like their Grandpa. They saw the similarities and said no thanks actually.

Yes, their whole character creation was me trying to see how much dramatic irony I could add to their life before I decided I was being Too mean. I am not beating the ??? allegations am i

Another fun fact but despite the Merciful stat, they actually took the cruel choice with the Spriggan and the lighter. Perhaps they view it as a mercy? Considering they would've liked to do way worse to the thing that hurt their friends

Also if Reese wasn't my favorite (no shit), their canon romance would've probably been Becca or Jane since I believe feeling comforted and having a sense of familiarity is probably something they crave in a relationship

Regardless of route however, I think having a past crush on Reese is canon to them in all my playthroughs. Me 🤝 Alex. Having horrible taste.

Not that I think he's a bad choice but yknow between your undyingly loyal best friend and your cool and chill neighbor, having a crush on that one guy who competes with you everyday is objectively not the easiest route lol.

Btw shout out to @renru for giving me the will to finish this lol

#the fernweh saga #fernweh saga #edit #tfs alex koslinski #rvlb

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incorrect-house-of-nine · 2 years

Photo

@wyvernwinds

I didn't want to derail your post. You have an excellent point, which opens up the avenue to something else:

If not.... Harrow would’ve been super dead when the heralds came. Hear me out. If everyone had gone through with lyctorhood, this would possibly be the break down. Dulcie. Dead Abigail: Dead. Harrow: Dead. Ianthe: Living her best life. Sylas: Clinging on to life by the tips of his mayonnaise finger nails Palamedes: Alive but consumed with guilt/grief Isaac: Possibly alive, but again consumed with guilt/grief Judith: Defo alive, struggling with reconciling the sacrifice with duty.

It all boils down to the cavs. We know why Palamedes would defo survive but be consumed by grief. And Isaac might possibly survive given Jeannemary’s tenacity. Judith’s is kinda self explanatory, Marta was an excellent cavalier and a solider, and Judith seemed to be physically one of the more robust necromancers. (whether that's an indicator of other things is another post completely. As is Judith’s subsequent death wish.) Sacrifice for duty is part and parcel of their occupation. They are both soldiers who understand that war/battles result in loss of life. Nay, Marta’s sacrifice would be seen as noble, but that wouldn’t stop Judith feeling the smart of losing her. Abigail would be dead as Magnus admitted that his skill with the sword was rather lacking. Sure, they might hold their own for a while before being overwhelmed.

Colm was no slouch as a cavalier, but then it boils down to Silas’ physical ability to keep up.

Ortus was horrifically shit with a sword, meaning Harrow’s body would be a sitting duck. She’s the first one gutted.

Which brings us to dear sweat Dulcinea. Her cavalier is very skilled, that much is true, but Dulcinea wouldn’t be able to lift Pro’s off hand weapon with her pool noodle arms. She’d be at a massive disadvantage. And then there’s the advancement of her sickness to consider and the amount of pain she’d be in. Ianthe: She’s having an absolute ball. NGAF!! Sidenote: I posit it that if Palamedes had become a lyctor, he would have wiped Jod out of existence within a week. A man that kind and righteously livid at the cruelty of lyctorhood wouldn’t hesitate. (Isaac, Jeannemary, Abigail and Magnus dying in GtN was a mercy.)

#tlt #the locked tomb #harrow the ninth #harrowhark nonagesimus #ianthe tridentarius #palamedes sextus #camilla hect #isaac tettares #jeannemary chatur #abigail pent #magnus quinn #silas octakiseron #colm ashte #dulcinea septimus #protesilaus ebdoma #judith deuteros #marta dyas #ortus nigenad

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sunlessea · 10 months

Text

it doesn't mind, it thinks, the inherent intimacy that comes with siring its own fledgling, so long it has been. it had never been the nurturing sort, the type of master who stuck around to care after its own flock once they'd been polluted by the curse that burns in its veins. veils had abandoned its bloodline, once it had been well enough started, leaving them with only the fraying edges of knowledge and at the mercy of other bloodlines that had, at the time, been almost kinder, albeit deformed. this is different, now, how its claws run carefully through the artisan's perfectly brushed hair, tuck it behind his ear, and trail instead to rest the tip of its claw against his bottom lip.

he has shuddered against it, even though he has found himself stagnant since turning. and it has been cruel in its withholding of knowledge, teasing him, but not relenting, giving in to his romantics, his kiss and embrace, but never his scandals. not for some time now, at least — not at his demand. now, however, it slips behind him, lets its arm fall so its hand may brush his waist.

"there are rituals dedicated to the delusions of our hearts still racing, breath still catching, when fledgling kindred, descendants like you that is, feel passionate. did you know this?" he just might, the way he pilfers through its occult libraries, no longer fearful of its ire, nor even of the gods. "it is not the practice of we tremere. but all our bloodlines converge and borrow, where we must. from the ventrue's pride, most often... even the malkavians and their poetic romanticism, at times... but also from the toreador, for their passion... and more scandalous desires." it hums, amused. curious. "silas. you're yearning, but incapable. aren't you?" it knows. he is not subtle. "would you like to breathe again?"

@londonfallen › this is going in a softer direction than u think it is i swear.

#londonfallen #` ✞ mr veils. ⁞ my soul is my cathedral and i will never let you in.#` ✞ silas & veils. ⁞ pray for your deep desire‚ carve my name in your soul and then we’ll dance through the fire.

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acircusfullofdemons · 3 months

Note

GARNET - Are there gods? -🐺👑

[ ASK GAME ] || Eternal Labyrinth is FULL of Gods/Deities! Arcadia has the most by default, obviously, but Earth I & Earth IV have a handful, too. Warning, this got...a lot longer than I thought it would 😅

Earth I

Theia Mortimer — goddess of death

Vitalus Zoticus — god of life

Eloise Jekyll — first angel

Ketrill Hyde — first demon

Josephine "Fifi" Allaway — goddess of time

Emory Warwick — god of space & knowledge

Lucien Jekyll — goddess of order/harmony

Vincent Hyde — god of chaos

Earth IV

Prism — mother of the 7 Emotional Deities, encompasses all emotions

Ares — deity of anger

Hermes — deity of greed

Phobos — deity of fear (+ Harvest aka Harlow Spade, who becomes the new goddess of fear at...some point)

Hercules — deity of determination

Pandora — deity of hope

Eleos — deity of compassion

Aphrodite — deity of love

There's also the 7's first followers & partners:

Orion Guerrero aka The Butcher

Edwin Kramer aka The Merchant

Aurelia Crowley aka The Witch

Cleo Barsotti aka The Hero

Silas Roux aka The Hopeful

Grace Lovatt aka The Merciful

Amanda Lovatt aka The Lover

Arcadia

Alcus (al•cuss) — god of the ocean, rivers, water.

Alia (al•e•ah) — goddess of puzzles, riddles. wife of zagreus. mother of elythia.

Bruma — god of winter, cold. sister of rythsti.

Bytris (bye•tris) — god of technology. often confused for or replaced by vyris.

Calypso — would-be god of imagination, theater. associated with music, dance. son of illulia and joylena. brother of reverie.

Cletho (cle•though) — god of darkness, the void. associated with leadership, fatherhood. father of viktoria and deimos.

Deimos — god of destruction. associated with fear, nightmares. son of cletho. brother of viktoria.

Delphi — goddess of intelligence, wisdom.

Direna — goddess of magic. associated with purple, demons, wolves.

Elliott — goddess of space. also referred to as Mother of the Galaxy, Keeper of Constellations.

Elythia (el•ih•thiea) — goddess of the dead / ghosts, ensures spirits travel to their respective afterlife. daughter of zagreus and alia. caretaker of emrits. commonly goes by “theia (mortimer)”.

Fifi — goddess of time. also referred to as Father Time, Josephine Allaway. has an apprentice, toby reynolds, who is often referred to/confused as the actual god of time. he is most well-known in Earth I/Wonderland and Neverland, mainly for never working properly.

Ignius (ig•nus) — god of battle, strategy. associated with fire, summer.

Ilullia (ill•oo•leah) — goddess of slumber, dreams, nightmares. mother of reverie and calypso. wife of joylena.

Joylena — goddess of holidays, celebrations, marriage. associated with trickery, music, bells. wife of illulia. mother of calypso and reverie.

Lullaby — god of lullabies. son of reverie.

Nynx — god of the moon, dusklight (nighttime). serves as solar's right hand, technically king of the gods but has more respect of a prince than anything else. brother of sola.

Reverie — goddess of daydreams, imagination. daughter of ilullia. sister of calypso. mother of lullaby.

Rythsti (ry•th•st•ee) — goddess of nature. also referred to as Mother Nature. associated with motherhood. mother to zagreus. sister to bruma.

Sola — goddess of the sun, dawnrise (daytime). queen of the gods. sister to nynx.

Viktoria — former goddess of space. see: elliott.

Vyris — goddess of reality. associated with fate, prophecy. often confused for or replaces byrtis in some myths.

Zagreus — god of death. son of rythsti. husband of alia. father of elythia.

Zerlo — god of the weather. associated with storms.

There's other mythological figures & deities but this is just about the Gods + this post is long enough lmao

#worldbuilding #religion #luka answers #system: eternal labyrinth #console: phantasmagoria #console: mad as a crow #console: fractured fables #lore #phantasmagoria lore #player: blue bubonic #paraportal

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lionguarded · 10 months

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30B - 29B - 2C - 4B - 23A - 1C - 14A - 9C -Dante S2

@ofwings-andclaws || session 2 live and in color session 2: 30B - 29B (also pitts bc we said so for s2) - 2C - 4B - 23A - 1C - 14A - 9C

this had to be hell on earth.

why mother lion deemed him deserving of this, he didn’t know, but he knew he was losing his mind, slowly but surely.

dante had taken the extra time to find silas during his shifts, he’d pin him against any wall whatsoever, grope & whisper sin into his ears. then he’d leave. silas found himself weak against the alpha’s insinuations despite trying to fight. he did fight, at first, he tried, but when dante cupped his cheek & pressed their lips together, all that spite within him dwindled.

when silas thought it couldn’t get worse, dante left town. he was aware that’d happen, but he didn’t expect it to happen while silas was … while they… before he’d… what the fuck was wrong with that guy? who even did this? getting silas hard again & again, only to drop him like a hot potato. fuckin’ hell.

when he came back, silas had…. been hopeful, up to some point, but the torture merely continued - in public even, so when dante found him on his day off just after he’d dropped sam off with the caregivers (he wanted a day to himself), he thought that maybe today the alpha would have mercy on him. maybe it’d been some stupid loyalty test? he didn’t fuckin’ know. he also didn’t really fuckin’ care why dante did what he did.

he’d not even shut the door before the alpha had grabbed him by the chin & brought their lips together. so he was back in town, huh? walked backwards into his home, dante was leading, silas felt relief wash over him when the alpha closed the door behind them. at least he respected his privacy.

after hitting a few walls with his back due to dante walking him into them, he pulled away long enough to lead them into his bedroom. again, sam’s toys & clothes were discarded into the box at the foot of the bed, but that was as long as dante granted him before he wrapped around him again, grabbing at his ass & sneaking a hand inside the back to check how eager his omega really was. no doubt. the answer was, very. silas had been fuckin’ dripping the second he saw dante march at him in front of his home, so needy for his touch - so desperate to find relief in his arms. fingers slid along one of his ass cheeks, one slipped between to find his hole - no questions asked.

silas had his arms wrapped around dante’s neck, relishing in the kiss, the alpha’s scent wafting up his nose, the way their bodies slotted together. fuck that noise. he was desperate, that was all. they were still fully dressed & silas was already hard, leaking pre-cum & trying to fuck himself on dante’s finger. you’re a fuckin’ disgrace. but that wasn’t what the alpha had planned, apparently. no. he pulled away with the stupidest fuckin’ smirk on his lips & silas wanted to punch it until he couldn’t smirk anymore. he didn’t.

“undress.”

okay. he could deal with that, especially, because at the same time dante took off his shirt & that was a good first step for silas. really. seemed to bode well. why undress when you didn’t mean to stay for long, right? boy, if only he’d known. naked, silas glanced away, still feeling a little nervous around the other despite everything they’d done & everything dante had seen.

he told him, in way too many words for silas’ liking, to get on the bed and arch. silas knew by now that that didn’t just mean… sit. or kneel. no, dante had very specific preferences & a fruitful imagination when it came to that.

so.. it wasn’t present & flaunt. he assumed that, but what the fuck did he want this time? he knelt on the bed, clearly lost & looking for a little help, which - of course, dante was happy to provide. he did love to hear himself talk after all. way too much, really, but silas was alright with letting him talk, so long as he could get off today. he really, really needed to. he couldn’t do this for much longer, no. he really couldn’t.

(courtesy of @ofwings-andclaws)

"Arch." Dante repeated when he noticed Silas' hesitation last for a moment too long. "It's not that complicated really... You've grasped the basics so far... And you withstood some rough pounding while remaining in presenting stance, so I know for sure that there is potential for you. Go. Hands on the headboard. Your torso is a bit higher for this one." He explained and waited for Silas to move. The way his back just... bent forward, as if he was trying to hide himself. But Dante wouldn't have that. He'd rather have Silas learn to be a proud omega. Dante's proud little omega. For that... More training would be necessary.

"So we have you bracing yourself like this... Keep a firm grip on the headboard. Your legs are right, too. You sure paid attention. Good princess. Now... What's so alluring about arching, at least in my opinion, is that it flatters the already gorgeous back line muscles that you have here." He explained, holding Silas by the hips with one hand while the other moved around his back, leather clad touch trailing the lines of muscles he enjoyed watching the last time they were together like this and also watching from a distance whenever Silas would do his little routine by the river. Dante paused behind Silas. Still in his pants, just pressing his bulge against Silas' ass. "Another reason... This angle allows me to do this..." He explained casually running his fingers through Silas' locks, balling them into a fist and tugging. The pull enough to force the last couple of angles he could have corrected into Silas' posture with his hand... But the hair pulling made it all the more exciting. "There you go. Perfect form!"

(end arching training)

why did dante have to make everything so…. so much? so intense, so.. just.. so. it wasn’t the simple act of fucking with him, no - he had to make it an art of sorts & all that on silas’ back - his time, his pleasure. anger was bubbling beneath the surface, but whenever dante took, he also gave. it was little slivers of pleasure silas chased like a dying man would water. never enough, but enough to keep him floating on that desperate high he’d been stuck on for the past week.

he had silas arching, like the good little omega he was. he hated himself so much right now, but he couldn’t stop himself. though, as per usual, the good little omega was rewarded. sometimes he felt it wasn’t worth the effort, but this time it definitely was. he earned himself attention in the form of dante’s leather-clad fingers again. yes, good. no, fuck, not good.

silas was arching a little more one moment, sucking in a sharp breath the next when a flat palm came down on his ass. the sensation so raw, running so deep, he actually lost it for a moment, fear rising within. he… assumed dante saw as much, he always did - like he had first-row tickets to his damn brain, because he pulled his fingers out & away in an instant, walked around the bed to sit on the edge of it, pulling silas closer but urging him to keep up the stance, even without his hands on the headboard.

soft noises pulled him back, forehead against the alpha’s collarbone, pressing his lips to the skin there, sniffing & humming softly. fuck, he smelled so good. it was intoxicating. leather caressed his cheek, finger slipping between his cheeks again to play with his oh so wet hole. just do it already, seriously. but he wouldn’t, he didn’t, he wasn’t. this time, he got a warning, which he appreciated - at least for now, so he could busy himself with fang-y kisses against the alpha’s shoulder. it wasn’t bad this time, in fact, it was okay. hurt, but - everything was pain with dante involved.

the alpha seemed alright with silas exploring while he caressed his ass again, cold leather a delight against his skin, but silas… he.. something in him wanted to push further. chase that rich scent that made him lose it whenever dante was nearby - yes, he knew it was most likely not actually his scent, but the memories he had attached to it, still. one arm should be enough for dante, right? because silas was on a mission for the other. pushed at it gently with his head & nose until it lifted, he … couldn’t believe he was diving into the alpha’s pit - face first, just ..sniffing. fuck, what the fuckin’ fuck are you doing?

smack.

he gasped at that, into dante’s pit - breath hot against his skin no doubt, but he didn’t complain. he would if he was unhappy, for sure. silas knew that much about dante by now. cold leather once again came to save the day, groping & brushing over his ass. meanwhile silas found himself quite content the way he was, just sniffing, kissing, sniffing. it was.. calming, satisfying for whatever mysterious reason & fuckin’ hot.

god what was happening to h–? smack.

this time dante got a little hiss, followed by something soft when he breathed out. again, leather to the rescue, though he was starting to really feel the sting.

smack.

he was giving him less & less time to recover between slapping his ass & strangely enough, he .. didn’t need it. every sting of pain came with pleasure, be it in the form of scent - or leather. he couldn’t recall how long they did this, how many hisses & gasps he spat, but he did know that sitting would - once again, be an issue after today - for a whole different reason than last time. smack. dante also didn’t leave it at just one side, no. of course not. though that did give silas the opportunity to trail wet kisses along his chest & up his neck. smack. the alpha was practically cooing at him all the way through, making sure silas never forgot what a good little omega he was. never.

“on your back, legs up.” was all he heard before he obeyed. sitting up first to wipe his mouth, he might or might not have drooled some - the mix of scent & pain had been a little much. then, with a last glance to the alpha sitting on his bed, he slowly lowered himself to his back, legs lifted & fingers came to squeeze in-between the back of his knees - just like he’d tried that first night, but dante had had different plans for him then. why? what are you doing? wasn’t once enough? twice?

this time, though, dante didn’t protest - he got up & walked around to stand between silas’ legs, though hands on his thighs, he pushed the omega back on the bed a little, just enough for him to be able to kneel comfortably between his legs, running leather across the back of his thighs, up to his calves & then he seemed to remember his original target - or so it felt. it wasn’t like silas remembered quite vividly how dante had explained he liked the way he tasted on their first night together. he definitely woke up hard after dreaming of it, no. he really didn’t. there must’ve been another reason for it, surely.

first touch of tongue was seemingly always going to be fuckin’ amazing. amazing enough to draw a mix of a moan & hummed little ..could it be called a laugh when he was wheezing? jeez, fuck. damnit. he should probably admit at this point that he would do anything tonight to have his brains fucked out again, but he wouldn’t. nope.

it was the same as it had been the other times, dante took his damn time & after that very thorough lesson from earlier about how silas would fare better keeping his hands off himself for the foreseeable future, he… somewhat… felt like.. he.. should..listen. why though? just.. do it. get off, get out, be happy. only he wouldn’t be - he couldn’t. this wasn’t what he wanted - what his body & mind craved the most, no. it was .. what came next. after sweet torture came delicious release.

…right? what if he didn’t, though? what if all this was just another game? like last times. no. no. he wouldn’t. no fuckin’ way.

as per usual, dante could smell silas’ brain at work without having to even stop what he was doing & the omega quickly paid the price for his mind straying. how.. how did he.. how could he? fingers curled a little tighter around his knees, his breath hitching with every sharp dab of his tongue. what if he couldn’t hold back, though? resolve was running low, so much pent-up need ready to slam through that door & announce its escape. but .. not.. yet. he knew punishment would … be bad if he … if he disobeyed. dante had proven that. teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, the sting a good distraction - he had to remember that.

dante’s words were … lost in haze, as they had been - or maybe it was just silas’ brain trying to avoid the consequences of his actions, maybe his brain was trying to protect him from himself, which - he would probably appreciate some day. but, despite that, he knew very well what it was dante said, so the answer came naturally, un-fucking-fortunately. “please, yes.. yes, i’m ready. i’m.. i’m ready, alpha.” he wasn’t. he never would be. he doubted anybody would ever be. or could be, physically.

but mother lion be damned, he was eager.

dante seemed pleased, he’d done everything he asked, right? he’d done well? apparently he did, if dante fumbling with the knot on his trousers was any indication to go by. would he.. was he going to undress? or would they repeat the fiasco that happened at the tree? silas serving his very soul on a silver platter for the alpha to devour & in return he would… offer only pieces of him. little hints, little glimmers - little glimpses of appreciation - just enough to keep silas hooked on him. would tonight be like that again? who cared, though? fuck him. so long as he did what he.. he didn’t promise, but.. silas assumed.

big mistake, dumbass.

in fact, now that his brain once again found a little opening to go haywire, he realized that dante had promised nothing. he’d said nothing. silas found him in front of his cabin, had seen the look on his face & the way he came marching at him & practically threw his pants at him.

distraction was apparently only allowed when dante was the one initiating it. as was clarified when he pulled silas from mental frenzy with a long, steady - but acceptably slow push in. same as before, same.. everything. no ounce of mercy. if the sudden pressure, the sudden oomph hadn’t made him flinch, he might’ve broken his unspoken promise barely halfway into the night. but alas, dante’s ridiculously-sized cock had saved his… ass. not really though, did it?

golden shimmer had successfully been hidden up until that moment he slid right back home where he belonged. no. stop. he wasn’t. this wasn’t ..anything. mutual … handshake, mutual stress relief. right? yeah. legs pinned between them, silas dared letting go of his knees to bring his hands down on his sides, blood flow had been at a somewhat critical state with how tightly he’d clung to his legs. fuck dante, seriously.

that stupid-ass grin on the alpha’s face did not help, but he’d seen the look on his face when the alpha bottomed out. through eyes that squeezed shut, but still. he’d seen it. fuck him. it was so good, though. he felt so full, felt like he was going to burst, but it was hands-down one of the best feelings he’d.. ever felt & that… alone.. was the problem, right there. in a nutshell. how could he fight something like that? how could he win that battle when he clearly came in with the biggest fuckin’ disadvantage the world had ever seen? also, why… had he never felt like this with trenton or sindra?

starting on his back was … intense. as dante had put it last time he was in that position, he was in for a wild & bumpy ride. the fact he’d have no control over any of it might worry others, but silas didn’t expect anything else by now. alpha called the shots. the first few thrusts were the worst, basically - he’d figured that out by now, so he was prepared, as prepared as one could be. back arched despite silas laying on his back, his chest moved with dante’s thrusts - lifting & lowering in the same rhythm, the same pace, showing off the guard’s physique though he didn’t really mean for it to happen. dante wasn’t the only handsome lion in town though. then again, had dante ever called him anything less than that? no. he’d not once said anything negative about his appearance.

again, like on cue. dante’s thrust hit deeper than the one before & silas fuckin’ yelped. yelped. the look on dante’s face, he could practically hear him say “oh, did that get your attention? good.” before he could even say it. dante had replaced his own hands at his knees by now, had pushed them down as far as they’d go for the extra thump that went into his every thrust. silas was already close, they’d barely even got started - he felt. yet here he was, trying to hold onto an invisible tightrope. so close to falling, so close to flying. but then he looked at dante, little droplets of sweat curling on his chest & up up up, that stupid face.

he could swear dante saw. like he could read his mind, because he shook his head no & that was enough for silas to grit his teeth, squeeze his eyes shut & curl his fingers into the sheets to hold onto something.

dante, again, took him to fuckin’ pound town, no mercy. & silas held onto himself for it all. he couldn’t say the same about his mouth - or his brain, because the noises that left him, some curses, some just plain old noises of desperation… but .. he had yet to cum. no idea how he got this far when he’d been ready to shoot his load before dante had even touched him the first time, but… here he was. though, honestly, he was expecting his resolve to crumble - once & for all before dante would get the chance to paint his insides. probably. or not. because dante was snapping his hips faster, harder all of a sudden & with a whisper on his lips that promised repercussions if silas was to disobey, he bred him - just like that, a few more thrusts followed & silas tried very hard not to scream. just as abruptly as dante had buried himself inside of him, though, he’d pulled away. completely & the guard couldn’t stop the whine that escaped. so close. “why?!” what else did he want? silas had arched, he had begged, he’d offered himself. what else could he possibly want from him? his legs came together in front of him, still in the air, his thighs trembling. fuck, ugh. fuck fuck fuck. this couldn’t be normal. who even did this to his partners? who would come back for that shit? …you did, dumbass. okay, yes, but he wouldn’t. not after this. no fuckin’ way. if he kept playing games, silas was out. fuck him, fuck … all this.

dante just looked at him, amused - as always & decided to reach for the guard’s legs, hands roaming up his calves to his knees, back down on the underside to his feet. thumbs against his soles before he gently pushed his legs down & walked around the bed again, slowly - his eyes never quite leaving silas’.

silas, ready to cut a bitch, growled softly, but dante did what …dante did. once he’d settled on the bed, he’d reached out again, commanded his little omega to obey & crawl into his lap. said omega sat up slowly, still so hard it was unreal - seriously. he glanced back at the other, but with a little sigh announcing defeat, he did what he was told, again. he crawled on his legs, their crotches flush when he was settled quite comfortably in the alpha’s lap.

almost in an instant, dante had his arms around him again - still in his trousers, by the way, which was even more frustrating. not because silas was fond of his thighs - not really. no, it was the message he sent across. like silas wasn’t fuckin’ worth taking his clothes off, because he wasn’t going to stay long anyway. like.. like all he was, was some quick fuck before fuckin’ work - or whatever. fuckin’ hell. he looked stupidly hot in them, too, which made all this even a hundred times worse. he wanted to hate him for it, but all he could think about was that feeling of leather against his skin, leader-clad fingers trailing along his back, down his spine & teasing below. stop it. don’t. no. don’t let him win. he’d only taken off his shirt, that said it all. once he was done playing, he’d zip up & go. again. good, yeah. he better fuck off, so silas didn’t have to see his dumb face anymore.

lips found his, hips ground against his own, their bodies moving together - in perfect harmony. or something like that. but not for long. after dante had played with his hole again, stretched as it was, he’d nudged the omega up, one of his leather-clad hands lining himself up with silas’ hole again - only to pull his hips down on it, fast. until the guard hissed. then, letting himself fall back on the bed, he pulled silas with him & made him kneel - or arch, on top of him while he fucked into him again. hands on the omega’s ass cheeks & pulling, while silas tried so very desperately to keep up. one good thing about this position was that the omega could capture dante’s lips, could pull at his hair & bury his nose in the alpha’s neck.

dante was working him hard, faster & deeper, rubbing against that bundle of nerves inside of him relentlessly - another orgasm slowly but surely creeping up on the omega, but.. as his breath hitched, his moans grew louder, his body tensed - he could feel it taking over, could already smell sweet, blissful release, he could taste it on his tongue. he was so close.

but his the alpha knew, there was no way he couldn’t, no way that when he could literally read silas’ mind - that he’d miss signs that were this obvious & he didn’t. he stopped, held silas on his cock, still.

one, two, three & he pulled silas off him, that look on his face .. in that moment, he couldn’t even.. it wasn’t fuckin’ fair. body trembling with almost relief, yet pulled out of his grasp when he’d already had his finger on it - that smug, i won grin shot his way. “you can’t… you.. i.. what..? why?!” what the fuck did he do? had he done something wrong? why was he like this? head hung low, the omega once again contemplated the choices he’d made in the past week, which was when it dawned on him, really. it was his own fuckin’ fault.

“we aren’t done yet, are we, princess?”

fuck this. “fuck.. fuck you.” fuck all of this. golden shine dimmed, despite him glancing up at the other. he was so done. but as every single time he felt he was, dante came barging down his door. palm cupping his chin, forcing his head up so their eyes could meet - crimson bringing gold back to life. “shhhh…” lips came to press against his own, another hand held the back of his head, the kiss long, deep, passionate & just the kind that made silas’ legs buckle. if he was standing, anyway. but it did exactly what it was supposed to, the spite - the fire inside him dying down quick. it wasn’t fair. he couldn’t.. ugh. fuckin’ dante.

then dante, who’d sat up with his legs somewhat crossed underneath him, pushed him down - so very slowly, but determinedly for sure, right until silas’ head was on par with the alpha’s crotch.

"now, now, princess... be a good omega. take a deep breath. thaaaat's it. good girl."

damn, he hated him so much. he hated that all it took was.. this. the alpha’s scent wafting up his nose. a few minutes ago, he’d been ready to go, now his heart was hammering in his chest again & his body yearned for dante’s touch again. forehead against hip bone, the alpha slowly released his head, knowing he’d got him. again. because of fuckin’ course he did. stupid idiot. so fuckin’ pathetic.

but fuck if he didn’t smell good. deep breath, soft noise - yep, he came to stay. "open up. let's see how far you can take me this time. huh?"

no, not again. not a chance, but then he looked up & …”fuck.” deep breath, but that was a fricken’ mistake, because yeah - no, he shouldn’t have. all he could think about was alpha & if he wasn’t so damn desperate he would’ve spent the next hour hating himself. as it was, though, he pressed lips against hip, soft wet little kisses to the skin there, slowly trailing down. not like it was the first time he’d do this, right? licking his lips, he swallowed hard & after careful consideration (was it, though?) he sunk down on his alpha’s cock once more. fuck everything, really. it did not go much smoother than the first time, lips stretched wide around his shaft, hands on either side of dante’s hips & he struggled. duh.

dante could take the compliments hummed silas’ way & shove them where the damn sun wouldn’t shine. he still hadn’t come. yet here he was, fuckin’ sucking off the one responsible for his misery. what did that say about him, though? the alpha placed his hand on the back of his head again, giving him time, but .. being there to guide him, too. every time silas came up for air, there was that hand gently leading him down again. a little further every now & then, but silas was still struggling, his throat clenching around dante, eyes closed & trying to follow guidance diligently.

rhythm set, silas had only little influence on the path chosen, he didn’t really want to, either. alpha knew best. all he did was trying not to lose himself on the journey, dry-heaving when dante pulled him too far down & recovering with small gasps once released. then.. he assumed dante was getting close, because there was less off-time for him & then there were dante’s hips meeting him halfway on every downward motion. faster, harder. alpha was getting impatient, but as he did almost every time, silas thought he knew dante’s plans… the alpha proved him wrong.

with a quick tug to the guard’s hair, he’d pulled him off his cock, saliva trickling down his chin as he gasped & before silas understood, dante had his free hand wrapped around himself, a few quick strokes & he spilled over his goddamn face. did he fuckin’ have to? of course he did. silas, dumb-founded & honestly so, so far out of his element nobody knew how he even functioned did little to fight him, neither did he when dante pulled him down on his spent cock again after - as far down as he’d go, hold him.

hold.

release was granted & silas pulled off with a little moan. fuck, what else did he have to endure? more, apparently. soft smile on the alpha’s lips, he leaned over, ever so carefully scooped up his own seed from his omega’s face to smear it against his bottom lip. eyes met, for a moment neither of them moved, but… before he could stop himself, his tongue came lolling out, so lips wrapped around that leather-clad finger & he sucked, tasting alpha on his lips. fuck, that was hot. damnit. why would he even think that? what the hell?

dante, though, seemed pleased with himself, wiped his finger on silas’ cheek, brushing leather through his curls & then zipped up, pressed a heated - yet short, kiss to silas’ lips - pet his cheek & left him sat on his bed with a simple...

“good boy..”

#answered ask.#ofwingsandclaws \ 002 #ofwingsandclaws; dante #ofwingsandclaws #silas x dante #dilas: session 02 #* . ⊹ ɪ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ sᴀʏ ɪ'ᴍ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ. › ❨ 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐒 & 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄. ❩

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