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lizslibrary · 2 months

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Facade

Summary: Bucky x Reader fic where Reader is sick but decides to go on a mission anyway.

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, please comment or critique it; I am always open to suggestions. I also struggled on finding a good ending, so I just decided to leave the rest of the story up to the imagination of the reader. 🥰

Warnings: assassin!reader, Sickness; flu, overexertion, guns, fighting, fainting, Slowburn (Picks up in the end,) angst, fluff, guilt, angry Bucky

Word count: 2,007

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I lean my back against the side of the jet, trying to appear as normal as possible. We were going on a HYDRA intel mission and I was sick. I knew going on this mission was a bad decision, but I couldn’t let my team down.

As I took a deep breath, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me; I didn’t even have to look over to know it was Bucky. He stared at me with his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted slightly backward. I could tell he knew something was wrong, but I didn’t bother meeting his gaze.

A few minutes later, the plane landed in a remote location, and slowly, the back door dropped with a soft hiss. I unstrapped my seatbelt and hoisted my gun over my shoulder walking down the ramp and into a thick layer of snow. The cold air felt nice against my flushed cheeks, and I sighed as I watched the rest of the team trail out of the jet.

Steve stood confidently as he began giving orders, “Sam and Natasha, patrol the outside; make notes of everyone entering and exiting the compound.” “y/n, Bucky and I will take the inside, working on containing and evacuating evidence that may be crucial to Hydra’s destruction.” Steve stood silent for a moment. “Does everyone understand?”

Everyone nodded and stood next to their partners. I notice Bucky watching me from behind Steve. I turned my head away from him so I wouldn’t give myself away. I knew that if he found out I was sick, he would stop the mission and make us turn around.

“The snow is thick, walk slow and conserve energy…we have the whole day ahead of us,” Steve says, beginning to walk forward.

Everyone trudges behind Steve in silence, our footsteps making quiet crunching sounds through the snow. I follow closely behind Steve, while Bucky trails closely behind me. I make sure to place my feet in Steve's already deep footprints, the last thing I wanted was to be drained of my energy before we'd even reach the compound.

I look up at the dark gray sky; we must be high up in the mountains, looking down on what seems like endless miles of nothingness. It wasn't surprising that HYDRA would be located here, being a rather isolated organization.

A little while later I began to make out the rectangular shape of the compound through the dense snow that was falling from the sky. My hands were getting numb from holding onto the straps on my gun holster and my legs ached from walking through the snow. Steve looked over at me, I saw concern but I just gave him a reassuring nod and pushed forward.

As we got closer, I noticed that the base was a massive, grey complex. The building was made of concrete and had no windows, just little square holes that littered the walls...it reminded me of a prison.

Steve came to a stop and crouched behind a concrete barrier, he motioned for us to do the same. The team huddled beside Steve and watched the camp, it was only a few yards away allowing us to see movement from behind the large, barbed fence.

"Send Redwing out, we need to see the safest route for entry," Steve ordered. Sam was quick to oblige, sending the drone into the snowfall.

It hovered above the entrance to the complex, giving us an accurate view of how many guards there were. There were three men posted around the entrance, all wearing black helmets. One of them remained stationed by the gate while the other two patrolled around the gate.

Sam watched the feed from the drone, scanning the screen for any more guards, "Seems like there are only three near the entrance...if you can take them out you have a clear path to a set of double doors." Sam said looking at Steve out of the corner of his eye "The problem is...how are you gonna get in?"

"Tony said that there should be a keypad on the outside, luckily for us he managed to find the code," Steve said with a small grin on his face, I could hear a small chuckle come from Bucky.

Natasha shook her head "I wouldn't expect anything less from that man."

"Sam, keep a watch on Redwing and head to the left side of the building. Natasha, you take right." Steve says "Bucky y/n, follow me...be aware of your surroundings."

As soon as the plan is said, we jump into action. Steve begins creeping towards the front of the complex, with the sound of our footsteps ringing in the snow-covered ground, while Bucky and I cover him. Steve slams his shield into the neck of one of the guards while I wrestle another to the ground and knock him unconscious. My head is spinning as I stand up but I help Bucky take care of the last guy.

With the first threat taken care of, we hurry over to where Steve is standing, "This way," Steve points at a door on the side of the building. We follow closely behind him and watch his back as he types in the code on the keypad.

He grabs the handle and turns it. The door creaks open slowly, revealing a very dimly lit hallway. Steve leads the way down the hall. The smell of damp stone fills the air, with the faint scent of blood and gunpowder lingering in the air. We follow silently behind Steve until we get to the end of the hallway, where it opens up into two different hallways.

“I’ll take the right side, y/n Bucky go left,” Steve says

Bucky and I walk down the left hallway and I can feel my palms getting sweaty with each step. Something felt wrong, where was everyone? Why were there no HYDRA agents? I glance over at Bucky and see that he has a crease in his eyebrows, I could tell he was wondering the same thing. I grip my gun closer to my chest, it was eerily quiet and something felt off…very off.

As we near the end of the hallway we enter a large room. It was filled with old dusty computers and lots of filing cabinets. I approach one of the computers and take out the hard drive making sure to put it in my pocket in hopes that it will be important intell. I watch Bucky enter a side room and suddenly the lights turn off and I jolt when I hear the loud slam of a door shutting.

It’s pitch black and I can hear footsteps circling me in the room “Y/N!? Y/N!” Bucky is pounding his fist on the other side of the door.

I feel disoriented and dizzy as I try and move around the room “Bucky!? Where-?” I am cut off by a gloved hand covering my mouth; I scream and slam my elbow into the person behind me.

My breathing becomes more labored as I try and fight off the people attacking me. I feel myself on the verge of passing out.

I grab my knife out of my pocket and slam it blindly into someone's torso. I lose my balance and I fall backward, causing my head to slam against the corner of the table. I let out a yell of pain and felt a warm liquid running down my neck.

I scramble back into a wall and feel someone else's hands on me, I try and fight back but my movements are disoriented; I am helpless.

As soon as I feel all hope is lost, the door bursts open filling the room with light. Before I know what’s happening gunshots ring out and silence fills the room. My vision is swimming and I see a familiar, blurry silhouette approaching me; guilt fills my stomach.

“M-..sorry Bucky…” I slur as fight from blacking out.

Bucky scoops me up in his arms, and before I know it he is sprinting out of the compound and into the snow. My body is limp in his arms and I can hear him murmuring incoherent prayers as he runs.

Soon, we reach the jet, and he quickly puts me on the medical table. Everything around me is blurry and I don’t know what is happening.

I am so tired. Maybe I should sleep. Bucky wouldn’t be mad if I just slept for a minute…

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My mind is pulled into the dark, tempting world of sleep.

A bright light fills my vision as I wake up. I blink a couple of times in an attempt to get my eyes to adjust to the light. What happened? Where am I? Several thoughts plagued my mind all at once and my body flings itself into an upright position.

Bucky stands up as soon as he sees me awake "Hey, hey! You're okay, you are safe.." Bucky says, gently trying to get me to lay back down.

The memories of last night flood my mind and I feel an intense wave of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I take a small glance at Bucky and notice the relief in his eyes quickly turn to that of hurt, maybe even anger. The look in his eyes pained me to see, I knew he felt upset about my actions.

"Bucky...I-"

"Why?" he says suddenly, staring me straight in my eyes.

"I'm sorry..."

Bucky closes his eyes in an attempt to calm himself "Sorry doesn't cut it." He says sharply "You almost died y/n."

I look away from him and shake my head "I know...but if I hadn't gone someone could have gotten hurt."

I watch anger form in his expression "Liz." His serious tone forces me to look at him "Are you not listening to me? You almost died!" His tone gets louder as he talks, "When I brought you back on the jet you were burning up and sweating...did you know that your fever almost reached 103."

Bucky takes a step backward and faces the wall, he rakes his fingers through his hair. "Do you understand that had I not been there and broken through a metal wall, you would be dead." He turns to face me again "Do you not understand that if you had died in that room; I would have blamed myself?" He looked me in the eyes "Do you not understand that if you died, I would have nothing else to live for?"

"Better me dead than you," I say quietly.

Bucky clenches his fist and inhales a sharp breath "Never, and I mean never, say that shit to me ever again." He grabs my hands and stands silently. "y/n, you give me a reason to wake up in the morning; the feeling I get when I see your gorgeous, happy face in the morning makes me feel alive."

I stare at him speechlessly and he continues "I know this is a terrible place, and a terrible time but I have to tell you..." The look he gives me makes my body tingle "I love you. I love you too much to the point where it hurts...and when we were in that compound I watched as the life drained from your eyes, and I felt more scared in that moment than I have ever had in my entire life...because I knew that If you were to die, I would have nothing left to get me out of bed in the morning, I would have nothing left to get me home safe from missions, I would have no more life because without you; I have none."

Bucky's words make it feel like the world has stopped, like it's just me and him and nothing can stop us from being together. I stare at Bucky's beautiful eyes, and he stares at mine; they tell me that I am here, that I am alive, and that I'm next to the person I love and care about most in this world.

#bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #soft bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader

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chaengluva · 2 months

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Battle of the Rivals

I have already uploaded this to wattpad on my book with imagines there, I'm going to put them here too.

Regina Geogre x Fem!Reader ~

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Everyone of North Shore high knew Regina George, they knew her as the queen bee, the top of the food chain, the apex predator, everyone knew this expert for the new girl Y/n L/n. Who happened to be you, you just came from an old school that wasn't really working for you. You walked into the new school with confidence, you almost gagged at what everyone was wearing, cheap outfits. Her father owns a huge business, You were wearing Yves Saint Laurent from head to toe (as you casually wear to school)

You walked to your first class, rolling your eyes seeing everyone in the class. You sat next to this girl who had slightly dyed hair, it was the only seat available. The girl looked towards her friend on the other side of her, he smiled and looked at you, "Hello." He smiled, you looked at him with a confused expression on your face, "Umm Hi?" They glance at each other and roll their eyes, "No need to have an attitude. I'm Janis" The girl says, you roll your eyes and smile, "I'm Y/n L/n" You turn your head to the guy, "I'm Damien."

You smirk and turn your head to the teacher, she speaks up, "Hi guys we have a new student in our class," Everyone turns to look at you, smiling confidently, you saw the way everyone looked at you, knowing the effect you had on everyone, you decided to wink at a few of the boys, making them blush and go crazy. The bell rang, "Sit with us at lunch!" Janis says, you nod, grabbing your YSL bag and YSL purse, you get up and walk away, following them to the cafeteria.

Walking to the seat, you notice everyone's eyes on you, Janis and Damien do too, they smile and look at you, Damien looks at Janis and smirks, Janis just rolls her eyes, sitting down opposite You. You all start talking, you're halfway through eating your food realising that you forgot your drink, "Shit, I forgot a drink, I'll be right back." You tell Janis and Damien, they nod. You get up and bump into someone, her lunch got all over you, you gave her a disgusted look. "Watch where you are going!" She exclaimed, "Me?" You ask in shock, she nods and you roll your eyes.

"You're the one who bumped into me." You tell her, she laughs, rolling her eyes, "Listen I don't know who you were at your old school but here, I run the place." You look her up and down, rolling your eyes, "Sure you do." With that you walk off, she grabs your wrist, touching your YSL blazer, "Get your poor hands off my clothes!" The blonde girl laughs at you, "Oh please, I'm the richest girl here in North Shore." You lick your lips, "Well I guess North Shore has to change their stats!"

Walking away, leaving the girl in shock. She huffs and walks to her table, sitting next to Gretchen, the brown haired girl looks at her and pouts, "Oh Regina I'm sorry-," She touched her back to comfort her, but Regina shoved it off, "Don't touch me." Gretchen quickly hid her hands, "Was she a threat to you?" Karen asks, Regina looks at her dumbfounded on how she could even think such a thing, "Threat? Are you kidding?" Karen's facial expression changes at the tone in her voice, being scared with how angry Regina sounded.

But deep down in Regina's heart, she did see Y/n as a threat to her social status and the hierarchy of the school. She would never vocalise this, no one would ever let this go if they found out, she decided to keep quiet and hope to never see you again.

Well that didn't last long, you happened to be in her English class, Regina's eyes went wide when she saw you, writing down in your book, you look up and the two of you have eye contact for a few seconds before Regina gets flushed and quickly looks away. Regina did not like you, that would fuck everything up if she liked you (She's heavily closeted, to the point where she's still kind of in denial) She was still standing at the front of the class, the teacher was awkwardly waiting for her to sit down.

"Regina!" She yelled, bringing her back to reality, "Oh yeah," She says, "I said take a seat next to Y/n, you will be doing the project with her." Regina's eyes go wide, she then rolls them and makes her way over to the seat next to you, your bag is on the seat next to it, she just stands there, waiting for you to move the bag, which you aren't doing (on purpose) making her really annoyed.

She picked up your bag and dropped it on your lap, making you look at her in shock, "Seriously?" Regina's eyes hurt from rolling them from your attitude, "Yes seriously, I need to sit down so I can pay attention, someone has to be doing the work." You look at her, obviously annoyed, "I can do the work too you know." You argue, Regina laughs, looking down, "Sure you can." Regina says sarcastically.

Regina sits down, glancing over at you, looking you up and down before licking her lips. There was a short moment of silence, "So how is this going to work, how will we do this stupid project." You say, Regina rolls her eyes, "First of all, It's not stupid, the project goes to our final grade.. If you even care about that." Y/n was fuming with anger, she opened her mouth to start talking but Regina cut her off, taking her by surprise, "Since I'm the better person, you can come to my house," Regina said, writing down the address, handing the sticky pad to you. "Be no later than 5pm, no earlier either."

The bell rings and you groan, already sick of everyone at this school, Regina George's confidence was really annoying you. You walk up to Janis and Damien who are standing by their locker, "I hate Regina George." Janis and Damien look at each other, Damien closes his locker, and walks to stand beside you, you're in the middle of the two of them, they are both looking at you, waiting for you to spill what happened. "Well she's clearly threatened by me, I'm richer and prettier than her."

"Well we hate Regina because one time-," Damien starts but Janis hits him cutting him off, not wanting the story to be told, "Anyway, wish me luck, I have to see her after school today." Janis and Damien's eyes go wide, "What do you mean? Why would you do that?" Janis asks, "You push your YSL glasses, glaring into their eyes, making them step back slightly, "I didn't ask to go there, I have to for a project." Pausing to fix your hair, "I would never hang out with her by choice."

Walking outside of the school, Janis and Damien walk behind you, seeing you go in to your car and drive off, "Fuck, I think we have another Regina George." Damien says, annoyed, Janis laughs looking at Damien, "Nah, Regina will show her, trust me, I was friends with her, remember?" Janis says, Damien nods, as they walk to the tree they always sit under. "You're right."

It was almost 5pm, Y/n was walking up to her house, wearing a new outfit, this time wearing head to toe Prada, knocking the door, a few seconds later, Regina answers, she's wearing a white shirt and grey track pants, her hair is in a messy bun and her make up has been removed. "You know we will just be in my room." You walk in, shoving your bag in her chest, making her hold it. "I know, I have to dress for the occasion, I decided to put on something cheap."

Regina was so annoyed, she walked up to her room with you following behind, the project was already so set up, you looked around her room, "Wow, your room is.." Regina assumed what you were going to say, she smirked and said, "I know, It was my parents, but I made them trade me."

You laughed in her face, "Well that's sad, I was going to say small before I was so rudely interrupted." Regina was fuming with anger, "Look I don't know what your problem is, but I think we need to make a few things clear." You nod, "That's right, we do, I'm richer and prettier than you." You say, only making Regina more angry. She walks closer to you, you walk backwards not liking her getting in your personal space.

You hit the back of the bed, your legs fall so now you're sitting on the bed, looking up at Regina with her staring down at you. "W-what do you want Regina?" You ask shyly, "Where did that attitude go? Where's your confidence?" Regina asks, teasingly, "Just answer my question, What do you want?"

Regina licks her lips, looking at you up and down, leaning her face in so it's only inches away from yours. "You." You were taken back by her answer, it was something you weren’t expecting so it made your body jolt back. “You. Want Me? In what way?” You say honestly confused, Regina chuckles, “I could tell you.. But maybe I’ll just show you.” She leans in kissing your lips, hands moving to your waist to hold your body close to hers, you kiss back making her sigh in relief.

Her lips are still attached to yours, you move across the bed so now she is on top of you, while your leaning against the wall behind the bed, she moves her lips from yours, taking a short look at your swollen lips, your breathing gets heavier as her lips move down to your collarbone, she tugs on your shirt, wanting to kiss down your body move, she looks up at you. “R-Regina I have never done this before.” She moves her body back up so her lips are just above yours, “Do you want to?” You nod, she shakes her head, “Words baby.”

“Yes.”

Smirking, she takes off your shirt and smiles at your body, leaning closer, “You even have a designer bra?” You smile, nodding, “Only for you.” Regina smirks, reaching under your back to unclip your bra. She starts kissing your breasts, she looks up at you while she's doing so, her eyes make you go insane. You let out quiet moans, her lips going down to your waist, reaching the hem of your prada skirt, “I never would have thought you were this innocent Y/n.”

Taking the skirt off, she stares at your body for a few seconds, licking her lips, taking off your lace panties, “Tell me if it’s too much, okay baby?” You nod, she leans in, adding pleasure to your whole body, your back arches and your hands go to her hair, gripping on it for dear life.

Hours passed, you’ve been overstimulated but Regina wasn’t too rough, she only did stuff you were comfortable with, you were laying down next to Regina, breathing heavily, her hands were playing with your hair as you caught your breath, “I accept your attitude to change at school.” Regina says, breaking the silence, “Yeah, and what if it doesn’t.” You ask, she smirks, “Then I’ll just have to punish you.”

Smiling, leaning into her chest, her hands rested on your waist and pulled you closer. The two closed their eyes, falling asleep until the next morning arose. Janis and Damien will be in for a big surprise when they hear what happened.

#regina george #janis imi'ike #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #renee rapp #gxg #wlw #lesbian #reneé rapp #auli'i cravalho #angourie rice #fluff #one shot #no part 2

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silent-stories · 9 months

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie can't sleep and you find out it's because he has to go back to school after his name was cleared.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mention of scars and bullying

Note: everything i write lately feels just so stupid and without any emotion so i don’t really know how to feel about this :')

When you woke up you immediately realized that something had changed, that something was wrong and when you turned around in bed and found an empty space next to you you understood what it was: Eddie was no longer with you.

Eddie, who would be back in school the next day after the Upside Down and after Hopper cleared his name.

The sheet slipped off your body as you got out of bed, you grabbed one of the shirts Eddie had left on a chair, and slipped it on as you walked down the short corridor of his trailer.

You found him sitting in the dark of the kitchen corner and, if it hadn't been for the moonbeams filtering through the window, you probably wouldn't have even seen him.

He was staring at an indefinite point in front of him, as if absorbed in his deepest thoughts.

"Eddie?" you softly asked, walking slowly towards him.

He snapped his head up, relaxing and slightly smiling seeing you. "Hey sweetheart. I woke you up didn't I? The walls are so thin you can hear every little noise here."

When you reached him, stopping in front of him still sitting on the chair, he didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist and push you close to him, between his legs.

"It's not because you made noise, Teddie. My boy wasn't next to me anymore, I could feel it."

He rested his head on your chest for a moment. "I'm sorry." He murmured then.

"Don't be. What woke you up?"

"Fear." His voice was shaky.

"Fear of what?" You reached out a hand, rubbing his shoulder and drawing circles with your thumb, as if to calm him down.

"Of going back there." His voice was thin and almost frightened, like a child's afraid to go to the doctor.

"Eddie-"

"Don't tell me everything will be fine, I know it won't. Those people treated me like shit before everything happened, I can't even imagine what they'll do tomorrow when I'll be back at school. Because even if your cop friend told everyone I was innocent, for the rest of the town I'll always be the responsible, the murderer, the freak. They wanted me dead before, now they want it even more." His eyes were watery and his hands on his waist were now gripping the Metallica shirt you'd put on a few minutes before, as if he was afraid you were going to run away, tired of all the problems being with him entailed.

"So please don't tell me everything will be fine, that no one will yell at me when I'll walk down the hallway tomorrow and that I won't find my locker covered in indelible writing and etchings because I know people can be so fucking mean. And I know tomorrow they will be." His tone wasn't angry, he sounded more defeated, and tired.

Your hand on his shoulder gently moved a few inches, finding the base of his neck and continued to gently caress the scarred skin there.

"I'm not saying that."

Eddie tilted his head slightly, like a puppy who doesn't understand what's going on.

"I'm not saying it will be easy. But I'm saying I'll be there with you. I'm saying that I'm going to sit next to you in every class and we'll walk down those goddamn hallways together. You won't be alone, okay?"

There you were again, showing him what it felt like to be cared for. To be loved. Eddie thought he'd never really get used to that.

He slowly stood up, his hands on your waist softly pushing you against him as he wrapped his arms around you. He left a kiss on your hairline before resting his chin on your head and standing there in the middle of the trailer, just holding you.

"I'm just so fucking scared." He mumbled against your hair.

"I know" your hand gently stroked his back. "I'll be with you. We'll be with you and I won't let them hurt you."

Eddie knew that by "we" you meant all of Hellfire and Corroded Coffin as well.

After a few moments he placed his hands on your shoulders to slightly pull you away so that he could see you in the eyes, and then cupped your face with his hands. His thumbs gently ran on your cheeks.

It was weird not feeling the sensation of the rings that he took off just to go to bed against your skin.

"I love you so much, you know that, right?" He asked, now softly smiling at you.

"You tell me that only about a hundred times a day, so I'm not sure yet."

He chuckled and you loved that sound.

You reached up, your thumb carefully traced the outline of his lower lip, engraving the image of him to your heart forever.

His eyes were sparkling in the dark, his skin was lightly illuminated by the moonlight, the scars on his arms and neck looked silver in it and his hair was a total mess but you knew it was one of the softest things you've ever touched in your entire life.

He leaned towards your touch. "I'll say it again then: I love you."

"I live you too." You giggled. "And with that, we should be at hundred and one."

The answer you got was the feeling of his soft lips molding together with yours in a sweer kiss that was somewhere between a way to tell you he loved you and a way to shut you up.

"How about we go back to bed and you try to sleep again?" You asked.

He nodded as your hand slipped into his, as it would every time in the school parking lot until you entered the classroom.

You walked down the corridor again and reached his room.

There, when Eddie rested his head on your stomach and wrapped his arms around you as you ran your fingers through his hair and caressed his back, he thought it didn't matter what happened the next day, what other people said or how they looked at him. You were with him, the Hellfire was with him, his friends, his family was with him and they wouldn't leave him and that was all he really needed.

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 7 months

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imagine waiting for bucky

angst/fluff

The sound of sirens echoed in your eyes and the phantom touch of his hand on yours burned your soul. It was dramatic, but that’s how you felt. Every time he looked in your direction, it hurt. How could this have happened? Months of bliss and bed sharing, his fingers on your skin – his mouth on your neck. The way his arm would sling around your shoulders, walking side by side until you got too silly and wouldn’t stop bumping into him. He’d call for a truce, pull you in for a kiss; every time, it never failed and now he’s standing in front of you after disappearing for months.

“How have you been?”

“Is that supposed to be a joke? I’m not in a funny kind of mood, I’m working.”

Bucky held his tongue because he had no right to object to the tone of your voice or the disdain in your eyes; although he hoped it was all feigned, for show. There were agents everywhere and you were certain you were needed somewhere, so you made it known and began to walk away but then he did the one thing that could stop your heart. He called out your name. Turning back to him, you gave an exhausted what and he walked to you. “Can we talk, please.”

“No.” You were blunt, and he flinched, but he wouldn’t budge. Shoulders collapsing from the tension, you sighed. “I can’t James…”

James.

Ouch.

“I owe you an explanation, let me explain.”

He owed you more than an explanation for his disappearance; if time was something that could be bargained or allotted, he’d owed you a bountiful amount. If love could be calculated and weighed, he’d owe a ton. If you weren’t such a foolish person, you would have never allowed him to approach you but here you were, a foolish fool.

“When I look at you, it hurts.” You confessed; eyes fixated on Bucky. “You’ve been gone for seven months without a goddamn word. Even Sam wouldn’t say where you were; how do you think that made me feel? You’re no coward, Bucky, if you didn’t love me…then you should have told me.”

The man’s demeanor shifted; his fist clinched and his eyes hardened. The change made you angry because what did he have to be angry about? He was the one that left you, he wasn’t the one that put their heart on the line just to be forgotten.

“I’ve always loved you. It’s always been you…but I -I was afraid.” What was there to be afraid of, you questioned, and his eyes softened. “After everything I’ve done, I don’t deserve to have you.”

“Grow up,” you snapped, stepping to him. His eyes matched yours and you reached up, giving him a hefty slap. Through your teeth, you told him to stop being a goddamn martyr. “That wasn’t you, you had no control but I’m not going to keep repeating myself. I can’t be responsible for making you feel worthy, you must forgive yourself - not that there is anything to forgive. The people who know you understand what really happened. You want to punish yourself; I can’t stop you but don’t drag me down with you. I can’t take it.”

The tension between your bodies simmered into a low whisper as Bucky closed his eyes; the sirens echoing in his ears and your phantom touch on his face. When he opened his eyes, you were walking away but you hesitated before turning to him. “Are you coming with me or not?”

No words could be used to describe the relief he felt down to his bones when your hand reached out to him – you were right, he needed to stop punishing himself because it was clear it was hurting those around him…especially you. And he had done enough of that. He had hurt you enough that he’d spend the rest of his lifetime making up for it even if it meant being happy. Being in love and living the life that was once stolen from him. A smile pulled from your lips when his palm touched yours, fingers gripped yours and you knew all you were was a big talker because even if it meant a life time, you’d always wait for him.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel imagine #marvel

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wellnoe · 1 year

Text

This is aperture au: an AU made up by Will (@boo-cool-robot, who did most of the plot and writing) and me (visuals) where Magneto takes a teen Scott in before Xavier, and Scott’s subsequent radicalization causes him to undergo a schism with x-men leader/lover jean after he eventually joins the team. Because if you really love characters, you just want them to have an ideological divorce!

The au is named after the code-name scott is given by magneto, which he returns to after the events of this comic (Aperture–like an opening for light to pass through, a focus in a lens.)

[Image description: Full color comic. Whole comic has a layout where each page has 3 columns. Jean is in the left column, and scott is in the right.

Page 1

Panel 1: Scott and Jean explore a grim, industrial, apparently abandoned basement lab. Jean inspects a peeled back vent cover. Scott bends down to open a filing cabinet drawer. Jean: "This is too clean to have been opened by a crowbar. Almost looks like how I would have used my TK a few years ago."

2: Scott leans back, back of his fist to his mouth in shock. He says: "Marvel Girl, you need to see this. Use my eyes. Please."

3: Jean turns, using her telepathy to look at the file Scott has found. Her telepathic eyes see what he sees. There is a Polaroid of young Scott and Alex. Alex smiles at the camera, while Scott holds his brother and glances away. Alex's file describes him as 'Yearly tag and release'.

The other page in the file has a letterhead reading “Home for Foundlings” and a logo depicting an abstract parent and child, forming a red diamond shape. Cut-off text reads, “Summers, Scott/Seong-Mi/S-...Impaired expressive speech and sound sensitivity worsened after 3 days of social ostracism from peers…electroconvulsion. Energy generation potential unaffected. Continued social impairment, likely auti…”

Scott has already turned toward a door, frowning.

4: Jean puts a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder while he turns away from her. Scott (Telepathically): "I used to remember having a brother. He told me I was just confused, that I’d imagined him." Jean (Telepathically): "Who told you that?" Scott reaches to open the door. Scott (Out loud): "I don’t know, it was all…"

5: Scott, quietly: "Sinister."

They have stepped through into the next room, where Mister Sinister’s silhouette looms in the foreground, breaking the barriers between the three columns. Jean puts her arm out in front of Scott to shield him. Scott has shrunk in on himself.

Page 2:

Panel 1: Scott has his arms crossed. Jean, glowing with telepathy, puts a hand next to Mister Sinister’s head where he lies between scott and jean. Jean: "He can’t hear us. He’s in some kind of psionic trance. His body is here, but his mind is on the Astral Plane."

2: Scott: "So he’s vulnerable." Jean is startled: " What?" Scott: "We could end him here. Before he gets to-- anyone else. Before he gets to Alex again."

3: Jean’s telepathy flares, she is confused, but stubborn. Jean: "We’re X-Men, we can’t just kill someone defenseless. We won’t get anything out of him if he’s dead." Scott faces her, angry and disbelieving. Scott: "You really think if you [Telepathically: implicate, integrate] ask him, he’ll say anything that those files out there don’t?"

A figure approaches through the open doorway, obscured by Jean and Scott’s world bubbles.

4: Jean’s telepathy flare is the strongest yet. She is hurt, beseeching. she says: "The Professor taught us to give people chances. He gave you a chance when you joined the team." Scott is quietly angry. Scott: "Maybe if he were smarter, he wouldn’t have. You wouldn’t–..." Jean: "Are you saying you shouldn’t be here with me?"

The figure gets closer, raising a board to her shoulder.

5: The figure is revealed to be madelyne pryor, wearing the marvel girl dress, as she swings a board at Sinister’s head. She hits him with a “KRAK”. Telepathy flares out from Sinister’s form and from the panel as he’s hit. Jean and Scott watch her, Jean’s mouth open in shock, her telepathic eyes watching from Scott's eyes as well, while Scott looks untethered.

Page 3: Mads is in the middle column.

Panel 1: Jean and Scott reach their hands out towards Mads. Mads has her hands up in front of her. They are all frozen in place. Scott [Telepathically]: "Who is she?"

Mads [TP]: "I can hear them."

Jean [TP]: "She looks like me." Mads [TP]: "I was supposed to be her."

Scott [TP]: "She killed him. That could have been Jean." Jean [TP]: "Scott thinks it should have been me."

2: Mads flees past Scott, who is still frozen. Jean turns as Mads runs, half reaching out toward her. Mads [TP]: "I can’t be her. I can’t be here." The thoughts become disjointed, unattached from the people who are thinking them, hanging in the air of the room.

3: Scott runs after Mads. The unattached thoughts begin to fill the space between him and Jean: "I can’t be her, That could have been me, I can’t be here". Jean watches Scott, frozen in place, and starts to cry. Telepathic energy comes off her in waves. Scott [TP]: "That could have been Jean."

"I can't be here" repeats until it goes through the bottom of the panel and into the next panel.

4: Jean is still frozen, crying. Her hands are pressed to her head as she is crowded by the telepathic thought bubbles surrounding her. She gets stuck on bubbles repeating over and over:

"I can’t be here, I can’t be here, I can’t be here."

Page 4:

Panel 1: Jean is still surrounded by thought bubbles. She reaches into the middle pane and tears a black rip through it, telepathically and with her hands. Her head and hands flare with telepathy. The edges of the rip burn like fire. She is still crying, angry.

2: Thought bubbles disappear. Jean’s head is snapped back by the force of telepathic feedback. The black rip spreads wider, telepathic flame at edges, continuous with the previous panel.Scott, chasing Mads outside the lab, trips forward. Both Jean and Scott are losing control of their bodies, falling.

3: Jean and Scott both fall to the ground, unconscious, as the rip in the page spreads wider.

4: Black/end id]

#scott summers #jean grey #x men #boo-cool-robot #long post #my art #w.me #this took so long to do but it turned out good i think! the au is very fun

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ghostsbaby · 1 year

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pairing - ghost x babygirl!reader blurbs and hc’s PART 1

word count - smol. 520

warnings - mix of things. talk about sex, jealousy, possessiveness and daddy kink

a/n - THIS IS ALSO AU DON’T COME AT ME. please i’m sensitive. i’ll be posting some more blurbs/hc’s in the future but for now enjoy just a lil something! have some ghost and his babygirl! 🖤 probably some written mistakes in here but i’m lazy to check and this is for fun. hope you like!

jealous before. jealous AND possessive as FUCK now. i’ll have to get into the extensive smutty details if y’all want part 2 🥵

like i’ve said a few times already, that mans lap is the only seat you’re allowed to sit on. besides his face. he fucjing loves when you sit on his face

“but i can sit in my own seat.”

“no. not safe, baby. safe with daddy.”

pats his lap and the rest of the squad just fucking look at both of you in disbelief.

simon?! baby talking?!

he’s also just obsessed with the way you softly grind in his lap every time and his dick gets insanely hard. he likes you seated on his cock

and he knows you used to do it on purpose around the guys, but now it’s just natural. there’s been more than one occasion where he’s came in his pants because you wouldn’t stop being a tease 😭

the first time he did get a lil angry for being slightly embarrassed that he snarled and threw you over his lap and spanked you in front of them 🫣 oh my l

WELCOME TO POUND TOWN. WE FUCKING LOVED IT BESTIE

but you were VERY quickly whisked away and not seen for a whole week after because soap made a comment on the colour of your panties 🤪

“you know what i keep thinking about? the colour pink.”

“you’re dead.”

ghost says while already jumping across the table to pound his face in like the jealous boyfriend he is. if he could, you’d have a ring bigger than the moon on your finger right now but you’re not even actually officially dating yet 🙊

well you are. he’s just never asked you. he didn’t have to because he never leaves your side and you never ask him to so he just assumes

soap had a black eye the next time you saw him and when asked about it, told you he got in a fight with a ghost. there were no more questions

fucks you constantly. in the morning, after the morning. afternoon and after the afternoon. oh, don’t forget the evening because he’s fucking you before then, during and after. DOES THAT EVEN MAKE SENSE?

soap, gaz, price are all obviously fucking jealous they have to listen to the two of you fuck like rabbits every night. BUT WHO WOULD BE COMPLAINING HONEST. they get to listen to you! all jack off to the sound of your moans imagining it was them instead.

oh my god if only ghost knew they did that 😳 you would really never see daylight again. so they better shut up and CLEAN THE FUCK UP

you think he even lets them speak to you?? NO. you’re always attached to him or he’s hiding you in his room. hates you being friendly to other guys if you don’t have to be.

“i’m allowed to talk to other guys. all he did was say hi.”

“what? fuck no. you don’t know what they’re thinking. you can’t trust them.”

daddy knows best.

DADDY KNOWS BEST

a/n - hey cutie 🥰

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost x babygirl!reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #captain john price #mw2 #call of duty: modern warfare 2 #simon riley headcanons #ghost x babygirl! hc #b writes

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what-eats-owls · 2 months

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Show vs Tell, Or: Please Stop Making Things Difficult for Yourself

I said a while ago that I'd write a brief essay about the most misused craft advice in writing once I wrote 10k words, and for once I actually held myself to that! So now, I'm here to tell you about Show vs Tell, or why people make it more complicated than it needs to be.

First, a basic primer for anyone who hasn't heard this term before: "Show vs Tell"/"Showing vs Telling" refers to "showing" the audience information instead of "telling" it to them. You may be thinking, gosh, that sounds unspecific to the point of being readily misapplied, and you would certainly be right! Lots of folks throw it around without fully grasping what it means, how to use it, or when it doesn't actually apply. And I'd really like everyone to stop making it harder on themselves when there's a very straightforward way to conceptualize it.

So for starters, Chuck Palahniuk has an old but good essay about eliminating "thought" verbs from prose that holds the hell up. But I'm going to tell you an even simpler way to conceptualize the difference between showing and telling:

Eliminate the inner thoughts entirely.

Ask yourself, if my narrator's interior monologue was inaccessible to the audience, how would I convey the same information—literally showing it?

Forget for a moment that your medium is the word, and imagine you only have dialogue and visuals. If this was taking place on the screen or in a graphic novel, how would you convey that this character has a crush on someone in their class? That they're hotheaded? That they're struggling with a decision?

Here's a perfect example of this from the opening scene of Howl's Moving Castle.

Devoid of context, we have a girl trying on a hat in a mirror, and also trying on a fake smile. Then her expression sours and she pulls the hat down over her face until we can only see her frown. She's wearing a plain dress and the hat is simple, despite the elaborate hats and ornaments on display around her.

You don't have to know anything about this character to understand what's being conveyed in this moment: This girl is deeply uncomfortable with trying to be pretty and flirty, but in the safety of privacy she wants that, even though she feels inept and self-conscious about it. She's in this world, but she's not part of it. Even brushing up against it for a moment makes her shut down and reject it with hostility.

More importantly, it's all communicated with a simple gesture and design choices. Not by Sophie thinking to herself, I wish someone would take me dancing—no I don't! I work too hard to have time for dancing!

That's showing. And it's more resonant, because we've all felt silly trying something on in a mirror! Or, say, if you want to show a character has a crush, having them get flustered and laughing too loud. Or showing that they're a hothead by having them snap at a simple disagreement, etc. etc.

This also extends to worldbuilding, dialogue, and stakes.

Worldbuilding: If your story is set in a town run by a crooked sheriff, you could have the narrator say "everyone knows Sheriff Smith is squeezing the shops for bribes." Or the sheriff can stop the narrator for "smelling like weed" while the sheriff's drunken son speeds by, about to total his third BMW.

Dialogue: If your character is angry, they can say "I'm furious." Or they can slam dishes in the sink and insist "I'm not angry" while openly crying. They can snap "I'm not discussing this again." They can demand "What is he doing here?"

Stakes: You can have an all-seeing oracle say "If you do not return the Mystic Orb to the Sunlight Altar by the solstice, the world will plunge forever into darkness." (And as we'll get into it below, sometimes you actually need that.) You can also have intermittent but increasing periods of total darkness occurring as the party travels to the Sunlight Altar. You can have the Mystic Orb start cracking the longer it takes, and the sun getting a little dimmer with every fracture. You can have people's shadows growing bigger and bigger and acting autonomously.

But showing isn't the end-all-be-all; telling absolutely has a place. Sometimes it's better to quickly and plainly state information and move on, such as a little earlier in the scene, when the other hat shop girls have spotted Howl's castle:

"Look, it's Howl's castle!"

"I've never seen it so close!"

“Do you think Howl will go into town?”

“He’s gone!”

“No, he’s just hiding in the fog from those planes.”

“Did you hear what happened to that girl, Martha, in South Haven? They say Howl has torn her heart out.”

“Now I’m too scared to go out!”

“Don’t worry. He only preys on pretty girls.”

This tells us some stuff directly: Who owns the castle we see in the first few seconds, that he's hiding from soldiers, that he has a reputation for preying on beautiful girls. We can infer also that he's a bit of a coward, he stays away from civilization, and that his reputation for cruelty has spread over multiple regions.

This happens so quickly, and it's couched in enough character between the teasing and the gossip, that it doesn't stand out as capital-t-Telling. That's exactly what expository dialogue should do. "Showing" us all that information would take a lot of screen time that can be saved in ten seconds of dialogue.

It's also not just about saving time; it's setting up an image that Howl initially fulfills when he helps Sophie escape the soldiers... only to be punctured when she actually goes to his castle and sees the real Howl. Telling is good for setting expectations that you know will be subverted later.

So yeah, tl;dr: If you're tied up in knots about "am I showing?? am I telling??" just ask yourself how you'd convey the same information in a movie or graphic novel, without access to interior monologue, and evaluate if that'd be better. Most of the time the answer is yes, but not always!

#show vs tell #I would like to put it on a shelf out of reach

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dark-frosted-heart · 8 months

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Book of Memories ~ Clavis, Jin, and Sariel ~

Card story

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Clavis gets bullied

BOOM!

AAAAAHHHHHH!

(Ah...There goes two down a hole.)

Since coming to court, the sounds of explosions and screams have become apart of my daily life. Amazed by how adaptable people are, I stopped reading and headed toward the nose.

Jin: Are you two hurt?

The knights came out of the hole with the help of Jin. Besides them was Clavis, who was probably the one that dug the pit, and Sariel, whose brows were furrowed. Just an everyday sight.

Knight 1: Fortunately, the hole was filled with cushions so I'm fine. How about you?

Knight 2: Same. Thanks for your help.

Jin: I just lent a hand while you two were climbing out.

Clavis: You two must have cooled off now after falling down the hole. I'll see you two tomorrow.

Knights: Yes sir.

(Were the knights arguing?)

(An underhanded method to get them to make up, but it's expected from Clavis.)

Sariel: Prince Clavis will fill this hole up by himself. Everyone else can go about your own business.

Knights: Understood! Excuse us!

(Wow, they look so happy...)

I approach the three, as if replacing the knights that just hurried off.

Clavis: Emma, did you come to see who got caught in my trap? Unfortunately you're too late.

Emma: Actually, I thought I'd come help whoever fell in the pit.

Jin: Most people would stay away to avoid getting dragged in to trouble, but you're so sweet. I'll give you some candy for being a good girl. Here, give me your hand.

Emma: Thank you.

I hold my hand out and he gives me a lollipop. Sariel clears his throat and I’m pretty sure the increased tension’s not a part of my imagination.

Sariel: Prince Clavis, you already made a pit trap yesterday, didn’t you? Are you planning to unlevel this beautiful garden?

Clavis: It looks like our dear bureaucrat's vision is deteriorating so why don't I show you? Look at where I filled up a hole yesterday. It's as beautiful as it was before I dug it up. No unevenness here.

Emma: Wait, you're pointing at my feet. Did you dig a pit here yesterday?!

Jin: It's true that it's pretty level here. You're not just a master digger, but a master filler too.

Sariel: Prince Jin, please don't encourage him. He'll get carried away.

Jin: Getting carried away's a problem, but the hole's been nicely filled. Isn't that okay?

Clavis: Jin really is a wonderful older brother and partner in crime. I'll make some sweets for you next time.

Jin: I'll pass since Yves' making sweets. How about you make something as an apology to Sariel?

Sariel: If you'd like to know what it's like to step on thin ice, then by my guest. You don't feel sorry at all.

Clavis: Are you expecting me to?

Sariel: ...

Emma: S-Sariel, please don't be angry. If you furrow your brows any further, you won't be able to get rid of the wrinkles.

Jin: If he can't get rid of them, I'll teach him how to massage them out.

Sariel: We should deal with the source of the wrinkles first.

Jin: Think you can do it?

(I don't think so...)

Clavis returns the stares with a proud smile and Sariel quietly pinches his brows.

Sariel: Intelligence increases with age, but I wish that his ability with traps remained that of a child's. Seriously.

Emma: As expected, he wasn't as powerful as a kid.

Jin: If he was this powerful as a kid, the castle would've been repaired more than 10 times over.

Emma: The thought of it is terrifying.

Sariel: There's no charm in falling into a trap you set yourself.

Emma: Own trap?

Clavis: Oi, why'd you just say something like that to Emma? You did it on purpose, didn't you?

Sariel: Just some divine punishment.

Jin: That's quite a promotion from bureaucrat.

Clavis: Emma, forget what you heard. That's just a false memory of Sariel's.

Emma: Did you get caught in your own trap, Clavis?

Clavis: I've never seen you smile without any reservation or care like that before.

Jin: It was such a failure. I think it was his first time setting such a big trap.

Sariel: Yes, the trap suddenly malfunctioned and went off before it could be stopped.

Jin: The impact caused Clavis to slip, grab our clothes, and drag us into the pond together with a plop.

~~Flashback start~~

Sariel: You've done it now.

Jin: Hey, your glare's making Clavis cry.

Clavis: *sniff* I'm just pretending to cry. I'm just great at acting, okay! Damn it...Me, a genius, made this trap. I'm frustrated, but I'll definitely succeed next time. I'll keep going at it until I do!

Sariel: You caused so much trouble for others, yet you don't regret it at all?

Clavis: Eek

Jin: Hey, hey, don't actually make him cry. It's just child's play, isn't it?

Sariel: It's never too late to nip evil in the bud.

Jin: Clavis, run! Sariel's serious!

Clavis: Run away!

Sariel: Hold it!

~~Flashback end~~

(Wow, I can just imagine it.)

Jin: As you get older, you want to reminisce.

Clavis: About people's failures?

Jin: It's a precious memory for me. There was some commotion after that and I didn't have time to rest.

Emma: I'm sorry Clavis, but I'd love to hear about your lovely memories too.

Clavis: If my own shame can make someone else happy...It can't be helped. I'll allow it.

Sariel: Emma, would you like to hear about another memory?

Clavis: We're ending it there!

Jin: Your tolerance went away in an instant.

Sariel: Fufu, must be a dark past he wants to forget about.

(It's rare to see Clavis so flustered.)

Suddenly, a casual question out of curiosity springs up.

(Sariel was Clavis' teacher, wasn't he?)

(He's probably the one that got to see the evolution of traps up close.)

(Even if they've improved over time, I think they could've been prevented in the first place...)

Sariel: At any rate, this trap was a little crude, even for you.

(Hm...?)

Sariel: I think you were pressed for time because there was too much room for just two men.

Clavis: You got a good eye. To begin with, I didn't have enough time to prepare. It would've been better to string them up.

Jin: But you'd need a tree large enough to hold two knights. It'd be hard to lure them to the right place, wouldn't it? Then how about-

(This...I've never seen this before)

It was unheard of for Sariel to start evaluating traps while in the middle of a lecture. And after hearing Jin's suggestion, started adding on to the ideas for new traps. Apparently I was unaware of the fact that this was part of the trio's daily life.

(So, rather than Sariel failing to prevent traps, he's just not trying to.)

(Then why...)

One question's answered and another pops up in its place.

Clavis: ...

(Ah...)

For a moment, Clavis' eyes softened. That expression...

Clavis: Emma

Suddenly, our eyes meet when he calls my name and he pokes my cheek after closing the distance between us.

Clavis: You've got that smile on your face again. You've been thinking about me, haven't you?

Emma: Yes... I wanted to know more about your childhood memories, Clavis.

I unconsciously gave an answer different from what I had in mind, but it wasn't a lie. My reply made Sariel's smile widen and his shoulders shook slightly.

Sariel: How about I prepare for you the finest memories?

Jin: I won't lose to you.

Clavis: Those memories are all going to be related to my failures, aren't they.

Jin and Sariel: Of course.

Clavis: You two do nothing but harass me.

Jin: A big brother's love for his little brother.

Sariel: A teacher's love for his apprentice.

The looks of disapproval on Clavis' face makes us laugh out loud. There's no longer any traces of tension or lectures. Instead, a pleasant air seems to surround us.

(Jin and Sariel sound like they're joking, but they must be speaking the truth.)

(When I looked a Clavis just now, for the first time, I thought he was like a little brother.)

Clavis' relaxed expression showed me the happiness and trust that he couldn't hide.

(That's an expression you can only see when he's with the two of them.)

The relationship among the three revealed through traps warmed my heart.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri summary #ikepri translations #clavis lelouch #ikepri clavis #jin grandet #ikepri Jin #sariel noir #ikepri sariel

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 3 months

Text

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 7: Rogue Desire

Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.

Word Count: 6.5k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience}

The library is dim except for the oil lamp casting its snug ochre radiance, illuminating the page you’re reading. The window here is forever shuttered and draped to keep the sun off the assorted books and tomes, making you feel safe. Well, as safe as you can feel while sharing quarters with Astarion. Your fingers rub the harsh, bumpy surface of the book's old cover as your eyes feast on page after page.

“What are you reading?”

You close the book momentarily to let Astarion get a look at the cover.

“Ah,” he smiles, “I lent you that some time ago. Did I not?”

You nod, “I never got to finish it.”

Astarion lays on the lounge beside you, “Well, what do you think of it so far?”

You cock your brow at him, and your nose crinkles, “It doesn’t exactly strike me as the type of book you would read.”

He laughs, “Why’s that?”

“It’s well written, and there are gory bits, but it seems to boil down to a love story, and I can’t imagine you reading romance.”

“Do you think me incapable of romance, my dear? I was romancing people before you were alive.”

You smirk at him, “I’m positive you can feign romance exuberantly. I can’t imagine you being truly romantic, though.”

He waves dismissively, “What’s the difference? It’s all a show, isn’t it?”

“I suppose, but one has true feelings behind it, which makes it romantic. It’s not the “show,” as you say.”

He chuckles, “This is starting to sound an awful lot like a challenge, and I do love a good challenge.”

You frown, “I’m sure Elowyn would love a demonstration.”

He scoffs, “You said there must be true feelings behind it.”

What does that mean?

Does he even feel anything anymore?

Questions you want to ask him but choose not to because you don’t want to know the answers.

Astarion looks around the room, “Why do you read in here all the time? I thought you would be out in the courtyard, or at least in a room with a window. You used to love the sun,” he muses with a dreamy, faraway guise.

“I liked the sun. No one loves the sun more than you do."

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” his mouth twitches, “You and I used to watch the sunrise together often.”

“That was before,” you sigh at the memories, “This is now.”

He looks around anxiously while rubbing his hands together, “We could again if you wanted to.”

“I’m frightened that you will get angry with me, and in that rage, you’ll cease protecting me,” you retort bluntly.

His brows furrow with a resigned sigh, “Do you think you will ever trust me again?”

“Do you want me to?”

He sits upright and looks at you intensely, “Indeed, I do.”

Why? Why does it matter to him if I trust him or not?

Trust is a luxury I can’t afford.

“You have your work cut out for you then.”

He chuckles, “It’s a good thing we have an eternity ahead of us.”

Unless you kill me.

Biting your tongue, you swallow that retort. Astarion has been remarkably pleasant for several days and seems more himself than you can recall since he became the Vampire Ascendant. You’re not keen on upsetting him for something so silly and becoming reacquainted with the version of him that lurks in his ire.

“Why did you recommend the book to me?”

He glowers at you playfully, “I have no doubt you will figure it out sooner or later.”

So, there is a reason.

“You could just tell me,” you purr.

“Darling, where is the fun in that?”

Astarion stands and kisses the top of your head. Running his finger along the books, he picks one, “I will be reading in the courtyard, in the sun I love so much according to you, if you would like to join.”

You give him a curt nod, but once he’s left the room, a small smile meanders its way across your lips. Astarion having the ability to walk in the sun safely for the rest of his days after living centuries in the dark was one of the reasons you had helped him with the ritual. You didn’t want to be the one to damn him to an eternity of darkness as a spawn. As far as reasons go, you know it wasn’t a good one compared to the cost, but what’s done is done, and the reasons, good or bad, don’t matter now.

Letting your eyes roam the page of text, you try to distract yourself with the story, but your mind keeps drifting to Astarion, the courtyard, and the sun. Astarion asking if you could ever trust him again confuses you, and admitting he wants you to only mystifies you further.

Why does he want or care about my trust?

Could I ever trust him again?

You’re surprised by how much you long to trust him again. There had been significant trust between you at one point, but that utter conviction got you to this spot. When Astarion had Cazador kneeling before him, he said he knew what he was doing and asked you to trust him, and you did so blindly. Thus, assisting in turning him into whatever it is he is now.

I should have known better.

Closing your book, you descend the staircase on shaky legs. The mere thought of going and sitting in the sun still strikes terror into you. You’re still adjusting to having windows again. More than once, Astarion has caught you attempting to slink past the window, staying out of the sun as much as possible, or just standing there staring at it apprehensively.

He would giggle at you and make his silly, taunting quips, but he would also comfort you and tell you that you were safe with him, at least when it came to the sun.

As long as he’s not angry.

The door to the courtyard is open, and the bright mid-morning sun washes over the dark wooden flooring. Astarion sits on a bench bathed in the golden light, eyes down, skimming the page of the tome. He looks at ease and happy, and you can’t help but smile to yourself and cherish that view. Glancing at the rays warming the floor, you swallow your growing doubt.

Trust has to start somewhere. He will have no chance if I never give him one.

“You’re safe, sweetheart,” he coos without looking up from the page.

“Promise?”

Astarion stands, puts the book down and comes to the doorway with a tender smile, holding his hand out to you, “I promise. Come.”

Biting your lower lip, you slide your hand into his. Astarion coercers your body to move forward out into the courtyard with gentle force. Paving stones warm your bare feet as they pad along the ground, and the sun’s heat permeates your cold skin.

This is the first time you’ve seen this place in daylight, and it looks substantially less foreboding. At night, the courtyard’s high stone walls cause it to appear small and closed off. In this light, it seems open and pleasant.

A well-groomed tree towers off in one corner, providing some shade. The green leaves flutter in the slight breeze. Another bench sits under the willowy branches.

Astarion gently twists your arm, forcing you to pirouette as if you were dancing an elegant courtly dance, and you giggle at his playfulness.

He rests his forehead against yours, “Thank you for trusting me.”

Gods, he’s so close.

As it often does around him, your ability to be rational and keep yourself grounded slips at his proximity. You can hear his heart beating and smell the bergamot, rosemary, and a hint of aged brandy you’ve come to love.

You’ve felt frozen inside, numb, for so long, but his touch reawakens your purpose and thaws the ice that has solidified your fiery spirit and kept it subdued in the void his absence left.

“I missed you, you know. When you left,” he whispers.

Tears threaten to spring to your eyes at the authentic vulnerability, and your hands grasp Astarion’s arms. Inhaling a long, shuddering breath, you attempt to regain the plummeting authority over your body.

Astarion holds your waist tenderly with the same firm protectiveness you remember. You keep trying to convince yourself the man you loved died that night, that Astarion is gone, but here he is, standing before you.

Is this him, though? I still don’t know.

Astarion uses his index finger to bring your eyes to the vivid scarlet of his, which are staring at you with a searing ardour. You’re paralyzed by that gaze, carried away by the deluge of instinct and longing coalescing.

“Can I kiss you, Astarion?”

He smirks, “Little love, I thought you would never ask.”

His lips meet yours, and your eyes flutter shut. Your body wilts into his as if drawn in by his gravitational pull. You let yourself drown in him. Your senses scatter, and you’re swept up in his undertow.

His tongue persuades your lips to part, and he skillfully traverses your mouth. You purposefully find one of his fangs, and you run it delicately over your tongue, causing a shallow wound that weeps blood. He growls as the taste of you detonates his hungering desire.

“Fuck,” he groans, “I love it when you do that."

You smile against his lips. You know it drives him crazy, and that’s precisely the point. You want to fill him with you; claim him as he has claimed you. You want him to be addicted to you so he can think of no one else.

Astarion bucks his hips into you, and you grind yourself against his hard length greedily. You clench at the delicious friction against your swelling flesh and whimper demandingly. A deep growl in his chest vibrates against you as his hand ravenously roams over the contours of your body.

You let your splayed hand coast from the taut muscles of his abdomen to his chest lazily, savouring his silky, soft skin on your fingertips. His chest heaves under your hand, and you can feel the rapid, excited thumping of his heart.

Astarion grabs your thighs and hauls you up. Reflexively, you wrap your legs around his hips, securing yourself to him.

“Perhaps we should take this indoors, yes?”

You giggle, “Astarion, are you shy? I thought you enjoyed being the centre of attention.”

He kisses your neck, “I plan to make you scream my name until your throat is hoarse. Would you like everyone to hear your wanton incoherent cries?”

Even though you’re more than accustomed to his alluring taunts, you still feel the heat rising to your face. Thankfully, you’re dead, and your skin can’t redden.

“And if I did? Perhaps they would learn something,” you tease flirtatiously.

He chuckles while putting you down once you’re safely hidden in the manor, “Darling, the prudes of the upper city would surely perish on the spot if they saw what I’m about to do to you.”

Gods, yes.

Your walls spasm and clench at the carnal depravity that courses through your thoughts in vivid splendour. You tug his shirt out of his breeches, and he pulls it off, anticipating your request. His fingers undo the ties of your shirt, and he slips it off. Those hooded red eyes brimming with lust consume the sight of you gluttonously.

“You’re perfect,” he purrs deeply.

Your chest swells and falls as you pant purposeless air. For so long, you’ve felt fear, loneliness, hunger or nothing at all, but right now, you’re high on the love and desire overflowing in you, and you refuse to give it up.

You throw yourself at him in desperation to keep this moment alive. His lips meet yours with the same dire need. Your fingers curl into the white curls at the nap of his neck while your other hand undoes the ties that keep his pants secured to his waist.

His thumb traces the lower curve of your breast, and you groan, feeling your nipple already harden in anticipation of his touch. His fingers graze the sensitive peak. Your body quivers, nerves humming as liquid lightning rolls down your spine, and your clit pulses in tempo with his teasing fingers.

“Needy thing, aren’t you? How long has it been since you’ve been touched, tasted?"

You were the last one to touch me.

This isn’t something you would like to admit to him. You don’t want him to know how hopelessly in love and devoted you are to him. Astarion knows love, and he knows how to play with it, and you don’t want to give him more ammunition to play with you like a toy.

Reaching into his pants, your fingers find them wet with pre-cum, and your mouth waters at the thought of tasting him again. You grasp his cock, and his hips jerk with a panting grunt.

“Needy thing, aren’t you,” you taunt mockingly.

His eyes narrow, hypnotizing and brimming with lust, “I know you’re skirting around the question, darling.”

Astarion’s fingers glide past your waistband and trail down in an anguishing slow progression that makes a whine slip from your lips. He parts your wet folds, skillfully avoiding the bundle of nerves that is howling for his touch.

“Hells,” he kisses your cheek, whispering in your ear, “I bet they didn’t make you this wet.”

You sag into him and sigh, “Astarion…”

He teases your swollen flesh, circling the aching border, “Did they make your body shake with need?”

The first direct touch sends a shockwave rocketing through you, and you whimper, knees buckling. You are forced to let go of your grasp on his cock and secure yourself by holding onto his arms. Astarion smirks proudly. The pads of his fingers stoke and massage, and you moan loudly. The coiling tension builds and intensifies as his tempo does.

A knock on the door startles you, and you try to jump away from him, but his arm wraps around your waist, holding you in a steadfast grip.

“Ignore it,” he barks, “we’re busy.”

Another hammering rap on the door makes Astarion growl in frustration. His brow pinches in a dark scowl.

A pleading voice muffled by the door arises, “Master Ancunin! Master Ancunin!”

Pulling away from him, your body mewls in dejected objection at the discontinuation of sensation, “I think it’s for you.”

He groans and grins seductively at you as he sucks your arousal off his fingers, and you choke in a quick breath.

“As sweet as ever, my dear. My memories did not do you justice.”

The banging on the door resounds through the manor again with the same pleading shrieks from outside. Astarion rolls his eyes while he does up the ties of his pants. Not bothering to put his shirt back on, he moves to answer the door. You take quick steps backward to remain out of sight of the visitor.

“What is it?” Astarion sneers.

“Master Ancunin. Please forgive my intrusion, but your presence is urgently required.”

“We are not set to convene until tomorrow night,” Astarion snarls with an intensely domineering inflection.

“I know, saer. I am dreadfully sorry about this violation. I throw myself at your mercy.”

Astarion sighs, “And what exactly is so urgent?”

The man’s voice hushes significantly, and you can only catch small snippets here and there, but not enough to put together what’s happening that seems to require Astarion’s attention immediately.

“WHAT?” Astarion thunders.

Despite the booming shout, the intonation in his voice is dispassionate and unexpressive. You slink further back, knowing that whatever he was told has provoked his rage.

“Go. I will be there momentarily,” he slams the door harshly, cursing under his breath, “Fuck!”

Glancing around the room, you try to find a place to hide from him. You could go back into the courtyard, but if he’s angry and he decides you’re an easy target to take it out on, he might just let you burn. The stairs to your room lay too far away and would mean crossing paths with him.

Astarion turns the corner and jumps as if surprised to see you there. His eyes meet your face, and you’re relieved the crimson pools remain warm with liquid affection.

He must see the terror illustrated on your face because he frowns sadly, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re angry.”

He nods curtly, “Yes, but I am me, for now - you have nothing to fear.”

You gulp, “For now.”

Astarion runs his fingers through his hair. Whatever that man told him, it agitated him significantly.

He clears his throat, “I must go deal with this.”

He bounds up the stairs quickly to his room and must dress at a breakneck pace because he returns rapidly, fully dressed in his overelaborate coat, looking mouth-wateringly dashing.

Astarion heads for the door and tugs it open but hesitates, pivots and takes long strides toward you. Reflexively, you step back, frightened that the anger won.

Astarion kisses your forehead and the back of your hand, “I will try to be back for your lesson tonight.”

You nod, “It’s okay if you aren’t. Be careful, Astarion.”

He smiles, “As you wish, my love.”

Once Astarion is gone, you quickly run around and close all the heavy curtains, plummeting the manor into darkness. Sitting on the floor with your back against your bed, you close your eyes and reprimand yourself for letting things go so far.

Your role here is to try and figure out what’s ailing him and see if you can help him remedy it, not to continue getting closer to him, falling more in love with him.

If that’s even possible.

You wonder, though, if, by some miracle, you can find a way to conserve whatever remains of the old Astarion. Would you want to be with him then, or has the damage been done, and your relationship is doomed and wrecked beyond repair? Could you ever trust him again?

Gale is out looking for the Wish spell for you, but you ponder if you could use it to save Astarion from whatever evil plagues him. Could it be used to restore him to his previous self completely? Could it be used to turn back Ascension entirely? Would you do that to him even if it could?

Would I give up my one chance to be alive again if it meant restoring him?

You need to gather more information on what’s ailing Astarion. As well as the capabilities and limitations of the Wish spell, but you can’t tell Gale or Shadowheart that your motivations may have changed.

Where is Withers when I need him? He knew everything there was to know about souls.

You have a theory about what happens to Astarion, but it needs to be confirmed. You wonder if the Rite may have stripped away some of his soul, whether unintended or on purpose, and now the soulless part of him wars with the version that still retains the remaining bit of his soul, each contending against the other, vying for control.

You imagine the only way to figure this out is by talking to someone who deals in souls, but who? You’re still trying to work it all out.

With Astarion gone, you can finally let yourself get some much-needed rest. Laying down on your bed, you succumb quickly to your meditative state and slip into the tributary of your trance.

The walls of the Crimson Palace moan as they settle, cooling off after the hot sun beating down on them. You’ve been locked in your room all day, and those solemn whines are the only indicator you have of time.

The door to your bedroom snaps open, but you don’t even bother to look. You’re lying in bed motionless, staring at the ceiling of your pitch-black room as you have been doing since he locked you in here in the first place. Astarion keeps you corralled in here like an animal. You are not to leave without his approval, and if you do, the consequences are dire.

“My consort,” he drawls as he lights a candle.

“What do you want,” you say monotone.

“Get dressed, darling. I have need of you tonight.”

“No, thank you.”

“This is not a request,” he sneers, “You will come.”

“What are you going to do? Drag me there?”

“Oh, pet, I will do so much worse.”

“I’m not going,” you mutter scornfully.

Astarion grabs you harshly by the arm and drags you down the hall to the kennels, “You do remember this room, yes? Do not make me put you in here, strap you to that device, and teach you why you will obey me.”

He drags you back to your room as you pull and fight him with everything you have, but he merely laughs at your pathetic attempts. He throws you onto your bed.

“Get dressed,” he commands, “Wear the blue one I have laid out for you. We are going to a party, my treasure.”

Your fingers linger over the silky blue material he laid out for you. The dress is glamorous, you suppose, but nothing you would ordinarily adorn. The gown is far too low in the front and back and leaves very little to the imagination.

Whatever he has planned for you tonight, you don’t want to know, but if you disobey, he will put you in the kennels, and you don’t want to visit that place again.

You pull the dress on. The neckline hangs down below your belly button, and the back is just as low. A long slit up one side allows a view of your leg. You cringe at the idea of wearing something like this in public.

Astarion returns promptly, dressed lavishly and looking far too handsome, “You look exquisite. This will do perfectly.”

Astarion escorts you to some overly sumptuous estate in the upper city. The ballroom is packed full of the city’s nobles and high-ranking officials.

“Remember to smile, pet. They need to believe we’re a happy couple."

You scoff at him, “I don’t care what they think.”

Astarion grabs your face harshly, “You WILL smile, or you will be punished. Do I make myself clear?”

You rip your face out of his hand and glower at him, “Fuck you.”

"Maybe if you’re a very good girl tonight, I will permit it.”

He introduces himself around the room, using his practiced manipulations to make connections, but he never introduces you unless someone pays you any attention, which they generally don’t. The only attention they pay is practically undressing you with their ogling eyes, and it makes your skin crawl.

Astarion directs you to a quiet side of the room, “Do you see that man in the maroon jacket?”

“What about him?”

Astarion grins sadistically, “I need you to go over there and distract him by any means necessary.”

You gasp, “Excuse me. What?”

He snickers, “You will distract him by any means necessary. Take him to a bed for all I care, as long as you get him out of the way.”

He wants me to do what?

“I will not!”

You yell it loud enough to gain the attention of some of the partygoers nearby, who give you awkward glances.

Astarion scowls at you, “That was very naughty, pet. Go now, do as I ask, and I will consider letting that little display slide.”

If I refuse, it’s the kennels.

You lean close to him and whisper, “If you try and make me do that, I’m going to make a big scene and embarrass you in front of all your new, very important friends.”

He leers at you threateningly, “Last chance.”

I choose the kennels over my body offered in exchange for whatever he’s planning.

You scream, loud and resounding, “No!”

The high pitch of your voice echoes through the entire room, thanks in part to the absurdly high ceilings. The once loud laughter and voices cut off into an awkward, hushed silence as all eyes in the room snap to you and Astarion.

Astarion plays it off perfectly with a warm smile, “Of course, my love. If you do not wish to go, we won’t.”

He’s going to have to do damage control later.

Astarion grabs your hand and squeezes it so hard you whimper while he walks you out of that damn party with the excuse that you are not feeling well. He trembles with anger, and you know you’re in for it when he gets you back to the kennels.

Back in the safety of the Crimson Palace, you burn him slightly and try to run to your room, though you know it’s little use. He disperses into gas and appears in front of you before you can make it even halfway there.

He grabs you, screaming in your face, “You dreadful little wretch! Now, I am forced to have to teach you a lesson.”

“Astarion, stop. You don’t have to do anything!”

He laughs like someone deranged, “How else will you learn to obey?”

“I will never obey,” you spit hatefully.

“We will see about that, my unruly, little spawn.”

He drags you through the halls while you scream, cry and beg him to stop. Your sandals skid across the wooden floor, shrieking as your feet try to find purchase.

The kennels smell like fetid blood, and you cringe as the scent assaults your nostrils. Astarion chains you to the wall, so you have no choice but to stand while he strips you bare.

He laughs menacingly, “You will learn to obey me, my consort.”

Astarion’s crazed laughing resonates through the room as he blows out all the candles, submerging you in pure, inky darkness. The door closes, locks and you’re left in silence.

You know you could get yourself out of these chains, out of this room, but the consequences if you do would be far more dire than being left in this miserable place naked and alone.

If you spend days, weeks or months isolated, starving, and stripped in the dark, you have no idea.

The sound of a beating heart starts to pulse on the outskirts of your trance, and the side of your bed depresses, rousing you from the memory. Your pillow is damp from tears shed as you were forced to relive that barbarity.

“It’s just a dream,” Astarion soothes, rubbing your arm.

No, a memory.

Does he even remember doing that or the many other similar atrocities he committed against you? If he does, he’s made no indication of it. One day, you will have to ask him, but you don’t feel like exploring that particular abyss of suffering with him right now.

You nod, “Yeah, just a dream.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” Astarion glances at the wet spot on your pillow, “It seems to have upset you.”

“No, that’s not necessary. Did you deal with whatever you were summoned for, Master Ancunin?"

He smirks at your teasing, “In a manner of speaking, I suppose I did.”

That doesn’t sound good.

“You killed someone, didn’t you?”

He shakes his head and shrugs, “Perhaps multiple people. I cannot be sure."

“You don’t remember?”

He stares at his hands, “No. More often than not, I recall nothing.”

Does that mean he doesn’t recollect the kennels or the other horrid things he did to me?

“You lost yourself again?”

He sighs, running his hand over his face, “I think so.”

Glancing at his clothes, you register that he’s not wearing the same thing he left in, “You changed?”

“I did.”

He must have been drenched in blood if he bathed and changed before coming home.

“Are you okay right now, or should I be throwing myself at you?”

He giggles, but it has a crestfallen ring, “You can always throw yourself at me, love. But I’m fine. I’m not angry anymore.”

You wrap him in an embrace anyway. His demeanour is melancholic and subdued, and you wonder just what in the nine Hells happened when he was out to have him coming home so miserable.

Astarion leans into you, the corner of his mouth quirking in a small smile and sighs, “Thank you. Should we go out and continue your lessons?”

You rest your chin on his shoulder, “I am rather hungry.”

He pats your leg, “Well, we can’t have that, can we? Get dressed and meet me downstairs.”

The forest is tranquil, with nothing but a light wind rustling the canopy of the lanky trees. A crescent moon hangs high in the sky, but not much of its light makes it to the ground, making the colours of the forest appear more subdued than usual.

“Gods,” Astarion clicks his tongue disapprovingly, “your footwork is truly an atrocity.”

You roll your eyes at him, groaning, “I’m trying!”

“If this is you trying, darling, the realm will end before I can even teach you this.”

“Well, maybe if I had a better teacher!”

He inspects his nails absently, “You’re more than welcome to try and find a more adequate educator.”

Ugh.

“Can you just tell me what I’m doing wrong?”

“It would be shorter to list the things you’re doing right,” he quips.

“Astarion!”

He strolls a slow circle around you with his fingers on his chin. His studious gaze is so intense you can virtually feel his eyes stroking your skin. Shadows skirt handsomely, if a little forebodingly, across the angular planes of his face.

You watch him heedfully, eyes tracking his course as he stalks around you. You’re always on alert with him. It’s hard to know what will set him off and what won’t, and you can’t afford to be caught off guard. Even so, a part of you luxuriates in these moments with him, and you admonish yourself for it.

“Where did I say you should keep most of your weight?”

“In my heels.”

“Ah, so you have learned something,” he tuts, “and where is your weight now?”

Your eyes cast heavenward, and you sigh, “I’m guessing not in my heels.”

“Correct. You’re tottering on your toes. Again,” he scolds, “Shift your weight. You’ll have far superior balance.”

You focus on your body and how it’s positioned. Your centre of gravity is displaced, and you’re rocking slightly from your toes to the balls of your feet and back like a blade of grass in a gentle wind. With effort, you manage to transfer your weight into your heels. The stance feels unnatural to you, and you struggle to keep yourself in it.

“Good girl,” he purrs, “Now, lower your hips. You’re still standing too tall. Everything will see you coming a mile away.”

The muscles of your thighs groan as you try to descend further into the crouch. You’ve been at this for hours, and your body is starting to drone fatigue.

“Lower.”

“Hells, Astarion! How much lower?”

Astarion crouches behind you and places his hands on your hips. Applying a gentle force, he pushes you further into the crouch. The muscles in your legs begin to twitch and tremble, and your balance starts to wobble.

He rises and walks around you again before crouching down in front of you with a cocked brow, “You’re very unsteady.”

Astarion reaches out and pushes your shoulder, causing you to overcorrect and fall forward onto him, knocking him over in the process. Something tells you he allowed you to push him flat to his back on the ground. He could have easily moved out of the way and watched your face grind into the earth.

Regardless, you find yourself sprawled out on top of him while you laugh loudly.

“Are all Sorcerers this unlawfully graceless?”

You smirk, “Do all Rogues possess such a smart mouth?”

He lays his head on the grassy ground and rolls his eyes at you with a grin, “Sassy girl.”

You move to push yourself up, but his arm comes around your waist, bracing you to him, and Astarion pushes the hair out of your eyes, “I really did miss you when you were gone, you know.”

Can I believe him? Can I afford to let myself believe him?

You swallow your rising sorrow, “Do you still feel emotions, Astarion?”

His vivid scarlet eyes impale you and imbue you with a profound solace that spreads through your body like a cascading wave of warmth, prickling your skin.

“You make me feel,” Astarion’s sombre, earnest intonation causes a breath to hitch in your throat.

Feel what - Obsession? Possession? Dominance? You want to ask him, but you don’t, unsure if you’re ready to hear the answer.

His thumb traces your lower lip, and that familiar rush of electricity jolts through your body and twists into your stomach. You trace his jaw with your index finger, leaning in and ghosting the velvety smoothness of his lips with your own.

Gods. I’m losing it.

Astarion presses into your invitation, and your lips mould together, charged with impassioned longing. His hand meanders into the back of your shirt, and you bask in the lazy, comforting strokes of his fingers against your skin. Using your tongue, you coax his mouth open, and he groans, giving you the access you crave.

You can feel your walls spasm and flutter eagerly, silently imploring him to fill you. Gyrating your hips into his bulging erection, he hisses as your swollen, aching clit, gorges on the mouthwatering friction. You whimper against him as your body cries for the release you were denied earlier.

Your eyes pop open momentarily and take in the forest that surrounds you. Memories of the forest the first time rush forward, and you push yourself back abruptly.

Astarion sits upright quickly and scans the surroundings, confused with your retreat, “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Not here,” you pant.

His brows furrow for a second, and he looks around. Comprehension eases his features, “Oh, come now, was I that bad in the forest last time?” he pouts dramatically, “I didn’t hear any complaints at the time.”

“Bad?” You shake your head, “No, Astarion. Those memories are sad.”

His brow cocks, “Sad?”

You run your fingers through your hair, “I should have known what you were up to.”

Once it rolls off your tongue, you wonder if you will regret telling him this. You’ve carried this guilt around since he confessed in the first place. He manipulated you because he felt he had to secure your devotion, thus establishing his safety.

If only you had been less infatuated with him, you might have seen through that guise and been able to stop him from putting himself through that again.

Astarion stands, concern creasing his face, “Love-”

I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.

You cut him off, “Not here, Astarion.”

He nods curtly, and you begin the walk back to the estate. Once you get to the Lower City, Astarion offers you his hand to hold. It comforts you that he will stop you if you try to hurt someone. You’re not sure if he does it for your benefit or his. After all, if you did lose it and kill someone, you could end up exposing him, a risk he is unlikely to take.

The city streets are mostly quiet at this hour. The only sound you hear is your footsteps thwacking on the rigid ground until a random heartbeat starts repeating in your ears. You don’t give it much thought until her voice drifts out of the darkness. You recognize that repulsively sweet, harmonic tone.

“Astarion, darling! It’s been ages!”

Elowyn.

The woman saunters from the outdoor sitting area of a nearby inn. Her mulberry hair is pulled back, revealing her dainty face and ever-so-increasingly tempting neck. She wears a green dress that makes the sapphire of her eyes stand out.

What is she even doing out here at this time?

You clench your jaw. Something is off about her, but you can’t quite put your finger on what. She has an air about her that makes your skin crawl, but it could be the utter loathing you feel for her playing tricks on you.

Astarion smiles pleasantly, “Elowyn. How lovely to see you.”

Elowyn’s eyes fall to your hand clasping his, and her eyebrows pull down into a slight, barely noticeable scowl. She leans in close, puts her hand on his chest and kisses his cheek, lingering there for far too long.

Your palms warm, and your muscles tense as your jealousy ignites the raging inferno of your temper. Elowyn smiles at you sweetly, but a hint of hostility in her eyes makes you want to relieve her of sight.

“How nice it is to see you again,” she grins brightly, “You appear to be in better shape than when I saw you last.”

Astarion’s brows pull down, “Better shape? My dear, whatever are you talking about?

Elowyn’s cordial laugh fills the air and makes you want to rip her vocal cords out, “Yes, last I saw her, she was quite drunk and heading to see you.”

Astarion thinks for a second and then chuckles, “Yes, she was quite drunk.”

He shoots you a glance and squeezes your hand, telling you to play along. You roll your eyes and scoff contemptuously as if you were going to inform this weasel anything about you or your life.

“She was quite rude to me that night, Astarion dear,” Elowyn sighs dramatically.

Is this bitch seriously trying to get Astarion to hurt me?

Will he?

He smirks dubiously, “Was she? How utterly awful.”

Elowyn pouts, “I do hope you will teach her a lesson. She threatened to kill me after all. She must learn respect.”

Respect? Her? HA! Never.

The notion is so entirely ridiculous that a snide snicker escapes your lips as your face contorts into a threatening grimace.

Astarion stares at her, scowling, “Watch yourself, Elowyn. Do not make me remind you of your place.”

Elowyn’s carefree demeanour falters to concern at the warning intonation of Astarion’s voice. She swallows hard and forces her dainty face to dress in an overjoyed smile, and she’s back to her usual flirtatious facade.

I wonder if she’s gotten him angry yet. If she has, how did she live through it?

Her hand is splayed on his chest, and she presses herself further into him, “I have missed you so. I came by the palace the other night to see if you wouldn’t like some company .”

Company? Ugh. As bad as entertainment.

You scoff at her loudly and try to pull out of Astarion’s grip, but he only holds on tighter.

You frown at him, “Let me go, Astarion. I wish to leave."

“No, you stay.”

“Let. Me. Go,” you growl threateningly.

This is not a request. It’s a command. You may pay dearly for taking this tone with him later, but right now, you don’t care; you would rather endure his wrath a thousand times over than spend another minute in the company of Elowyn.

Watching her put her hands all over him stokes the fire burning in your blood to unfathomable temperatures. As your fury increases, so does the likelihood that you reduce her to a pile of ash.

Why do I care so much?

I left him.

“It seems your pet spawn would like to give us some privacy. Let her go, my sweet Astarion.”

Pet spawn?

Thank you to everyone who reads/likes/comments/reblogs!

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

AO3 [Crossposted]

PS: I hate Elowyn - excuse me while I go break something to get over writing her.

#astarion x reader #ascended astarion #astarion fanfic #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #bg3 #astarion x you #astarion smut #fangs and fractured hearts

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miyaur · 1 year

Note

hii, may I request kitten anemo boys with afab reader? like.. smut, please? 😁

𝄞 — xiao, aether (afab/fem reader) — ❝ my sweet sweet kitty ❞

summary: in heat season, obviously cats start to crave sex a little more, sweatier than usual, hazier vision, and hard 24/7, but your kitty knows better than to disobey you, but why did you have to work late now when he needed you the moost.. he can't help it :(

a/n: no this isn't another part of 'be a good kitty and take it', well atleast not right now, edit: i almost forgot to feed you guys

warnings: nsfw, dom!reader, sub!character

kitty!xiao has a hard time without you especially when he's in heat. did you have to seriously work late tonight? can't you just say you're sick and spend the rest of his heat days with him? he knows he can't touch himself, but he really needs it..

tonight, coming home a little later than usual, xiao clings onto to you like it's life or death, kissing and smothering you in his scent, but his small whimpers whenever he lightly humps your leg don't go disregarded.

"baby, something wrong?" you ask making him face you, face flushed and eyes closed, moaning a little while at it. "n-nothing.. can we just go to sleep?" he asked dragging you upstairs, "you sure-" "yeah! i'm fine everything's okay." he said in a hurry.

all night he couldn't sleep, not without thinking of you stroking him, your pretty face right beside him, he couldn't help but love the idea of you sucking him off, he does really need it.

once you set off again, xiao can't help but touch himself, you won't mind this one time, you weren't there so, maybe you won't be mad! but he seriously can't get off to anything that isn't you, or atleast if it doesnt have your scent!

your pillow for example! it wouldn't hurt to try.. right? he knows you'll get angry and punish him, but that also turns him on. plus getting caught and punished by you didn't sound so bad..

rubbing his cock on the pillow and inhaling you smell made him drool, waves of lust overtaking him, moaning your name loudly. slowly precum drips from his dick, whispering to himself on how close he was to finishing

"having fun, sweetheart?" he gasped looking back to you, leaning on the doorframe. "i- i'm sorry! i couldn't-" you shush him, lying him down on his back on the bed. rubbing his cock, "fuckfuck p-please ahn-", paying him no mind you slowly insert yourself ontop of him,

"oh my sweet sweet kitty, i've been neglecting you a bit haven't i?"

kitty!aether didn't know how he ended up in this situation, neither do you, but you're glad it happened. unlike other kitties, he follows all your rules, will not hesitate to follow orders, breedable, is actually not a brat, yk all that nice stuff.

you don't have favorites, but he is a very good boy for you, but as good of a boy he is, he's equally as horny. anything you do to him during sex he drools for, and i mean DROOL for. he just really loves you and what you do to him, both literally, and sexually

pinch his nipples, cover him in love bites so everyone knows who he belongs to, spank him, talk dirty to him while rubbing him through his thin pants, and he'll cum in minutes! but.. well this cycle really made him feel needy. more than usual, this time he couldn't wait for you to come home

touching himself and toying with his nipples, vibrator in his ass, with one of your belongings in hand, made him more lustful by the second. biting on his lips to muffle his sweet moans, all he could do was imagine it was your hand instead. not realizing someone else's hand is stroking himself, it was you, finally being home, kissing him on the forehead, "my sweet sweet kitty, i'm sorry for not being here to help out, now let mommy treat you better." haha i like the word mommy, been fr waiting my whole life to use it in a fic, AND WHY WAS I STRUGGLING TO WRITE FOR AFAB READER SO BADLY <;/3

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joviepog · 6 months

Text

“God, I hate you!”

Pt 2!

Who: Siren!bur x reader

Pronouns: none mentioned

Warnings: death and mention of blood

Anything else: So, i realized hiw the first one qas wrong and how i should use situations like that in stories so i decided to make a new one! If there is anything wrong with this one just let me know! Also the only thing really changed is the last part.

This is NOT proofread

Listen to this while u read:

“God, i hate you!” I laughed as i looked at him but I soon stopped, “Sorry, i didn’t mean it. I swear i was just-“

He shrugged and interrupted me, “it’s okay. I know you were joking.”

I let out a sigh of relief and continued talking, glad that i was making a new friend. Even if it was at the school’s detention room.

—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—

“God, i hate you!” I laughed out. I patted his back as i laughed. He laughed along with me and I couldn’t help but feel my heartbeat quicken.

He Ruffled my hair and i yelled at him, “Hey!”

“Oh sorry!” He took his hand off. This just made me feel bad, i had ruined the moment.

“No, I’m sorry!” I laughed again but he held a straight face. He stopped walking and i had to pause as well.

“You don’t have to say sorry when you’re around me.”

This made me self aware, “Sorry.”

He chuckled, “You just did it again!” He walked towards me and put his hand on my shoulder, “from now on, you can’t say sorry when you’re around me.”

I shrugged, “Okay, if you say so.” I laughed to myself.

He laughed as well and we kept walking.

—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—

“God, i hate you!” He was yelling now.

“Why?!? What did i ever do to you?!” I yelled back, he had no reason to yell at me.

“Because you made me fall for someone i promised myself not to!”

I scoffed, “Oh yeah? Who’s that?” i put my hand on my hips.

“You! And i can’t get you off my mind! Every moment im not with you im thinking of you. And everytime i am with you i cant help but hate myself for thinking i could ever have a chance.”

He sighed and rubbed his fingers on his temples, closing his eyes he spoke, “You’re just.. the only person that i can ever imagine myself next to.”

I laughed and his eyes shot open. “I can’t believe you’re the first one to confess and not me!”

His eyes lightened and he gave me a hug.

This was the start of something new.

If only he knew who i really was..

—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—/—

“God, i hate you.” I cried as I held his body.

He scoffed, “Oh please, you know you love me.”

The tears started to block my vision and i wanted to kill myself for ever letting something like this happen.

I put my head on his chest and i could hear his breathing staggering.

“We should have never gone on this mission.” I laughed as i cried onto his shirt.

He laughed to and i could feel his body shake.

“But how was i supposed to prove that i’m better at beating hero’s than you?” He chuckled. I gave him a smile but it soon faded ones i heard him cough.

I hushed him, “Save your breath, Tommy will be here soon.”

He stayed quiet. The sound of explosions and angry yelling could be hear. The smell of smoke filled our senses.

“Reflection…”

I raised your head, “Siren, save your breath.”

He moved his arm and lifted his mask. You turned away, “SIREN WHAT ARE YOU DOING.”

He coughed again, “Its fine YN. Just look at me.”

I stopped, “What…?” I then turned to look at him. Beautiful brown eyes looking at me.

Wilbur’s eyes…

He let out a breathy, small, laugh. “God, this was not how this is was supposed to go.”

I panicked, “Wilbur. Oh god no. No, no, no! There is no way. Okay,” i got up,” Just stay here i’m going to go find Tommy.”

I sat him up against the ally wall.

“YN…”

“Wilbur just stay here. Please.”

“YN..”

more tears came out of my eyes, “WILBUR JUST STAY HERE.”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down. “Tommy will find us. Just.. stay.”

I frowned at him, the piece of my scarf that i wrapped around him mow covered in blood. All u wanted to do was run, ask for help, but instead i complied.

I sat down next to him and he leaned his head in mine.

I could hear his breathing. It was unsteady and..

and…

It stopped.

I moved away so that i was in front of him.

“WILBUR!”

I held onto his body as i heard the sound of gravel being ran upon. It was Tommy.

I out wilbur’s mask back on and watched as tommy came.

“Siren!” He yelled as he took if my scarf. He looked at the gash and put his hands on it. He then told me ti back up as he closed his eyes and started working

Moving was the last thing i wanted to do. We never should have gone in this mission.

“Please stay, we got you. Just stay with me…” I cried as i saw tommy try to bring him back,

“Please siren, I love you…”

If this isn’t ok honestly feel free to message me alr?

@poraphia @gaytoadwithapopsicle @ax-y10 @haunted-headset

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leclercdreams · 2 years

Note

hiii can i ask for some hurt/comfort with pierre?🥹 💗

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐢𝐦 ❘❘ 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘺

pairing: Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader

warnings: Hurting Pierre, some emotional breakdown scenes, angry reader, some swear words, all translations are from google translate, mentions of 2015 soft fluff to make our fav Frenchman feel better.

word count: 1.87K

a/n: I have not written imagines in ages so please be kind, I normally plan stories very carefully and write on Wattpad. I'm using the Japanese GP for this comfort piece.

You had been with Pierre for the better part of five years, you had your hard days and your good days, the days you wanted to strangle him, but your love never faltered for the Frenchman.

The Japanese Grand Prix was one you had been waiting for all year, hearing how much Yuki loved his home, as well as Seb’s stories he had to share. You had been waiting and when the time came it had been raining heavily for the better part of the weekend there. Working for the Alpha Tauri marketing team meant that you traveled with them everywhere, it would be anyone’s dream.

You were sat in Pierre’s driver's room, the said driver pulling on his fireproofs and race suit letting it hang on his hips, a knock on the door brought you out of your daydream about your boyfriend just a few feet away bopping his head to the music playing through his earphones.

Standing from your spot you took a few steps to the door and pulled it open gaining Pierre’s attention. “Hey, Pyry, you here to steal him?” Hugging the man you smiled when he let out a chuckle and shook his head, “not yet, just thought we could do some preparation. It’s a tricky track.” Humming you wrapped your arms around Pierre who had walked over to you and kissed your temple.

“I’ll leave you two to it then, I need to go check on Charles, Japan doesn’t have happy memories for him.” Turning your head so the French driver could have your attention you leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, following you when you pulled away he placed a few more kisses on your lips until you placed your hand on his chest. “I’ll be back before you get in the car mon amour.”

Saying goodbye you grabbed Pierre’s extra jacket, the one you already wearing not providing nearly enough warmth, greeting some of the staff as you set off to the Ferrari garage to find your best friend. It might sound ridiculously cliché, but Charles had been your best friend since the two of you were babies, if any Pierre was the one that came and just stuck around, something you both were thankful for.

“Y/N!” Spinning around you were met by Carlos who was making his way toward you with two steaming cups in his hands, “please tell me one of those is for me?” The desperate look on your face made the Spaniard cave and held on out to you making you sigh happily keeping it close to keep yourself warm. “Bless your soul, Carlitos. How are you doing? You ready for the race?”

Carlos sent you a smile and walked with you, knowing exactly where you are heading, Ferrari had gotten used to you wandering around, trusting you completely knowing you only wanted to see the Monégasque driver.

“Alright, I don’t think we will get much racing done, but I am excited to be in Japan.” Sending him a comforting smile the two of you stopped when he heard his name being called, excusing himself she gave him a quick hug before entering Charles’ driver's room. “ Éclair, hey, I just wanted to come to check on you.”

Charles turned around from pulling on his jacket and walked over to her, the tight hug he gave her made her almost spill the coffee, but luckily for both of you it was saved from your quick reflexes. “Hi.” It was such a simple word, but one you could hear so much emotion behind it.

You stayed with him for as long as you could, giving him motivation and words of comfort until you had to leave again, hugging him goodbye you made your way back to the Alpha Tauri garage as quickly as possible. Seeing Pierre standing close to his car you almost sprinted to him and hugged him tightly making his engineer stop talking.

The growing pit in your stomach was growing even more and worry started to settle in the pit of your stomach. You felt his arms wrap around you holding you close as possible before pulling away, “what’s wrong mon ange?” Shaking your head you breathed out and placed your hands on his cheeks looking into the sparkly blue eyes you loved so much.

“Be careful, please, just promise me you will be careful.” Staying silent for a few heartbeats he felt her grip tighten on him and he nodded confirming your request. Leaning down he placed a kiss on your lips, whispering those three words you’d never get tired of. “Je t'aime tellement mon amour.”

Pulling on his balaclava you stood next to Pyry while placing the headset on your head so you could hear Pierre over the radio, As much as you looked forward to Japan, you couldn’t help the bad feeling you had.

As if he could feel your stress and fear Pyry wrapped his arm around your shoulder making you relax slightly, your eyes not leaving the monitor once as you watched the cars line up after their formation lap. It was true what your father always said, the rush of watching motorsport was a strong feeling, and in the current moment you could throw up with how nervous you were.

One by one the red lights went on, chewing on your thumbnail slightly you crossed your arms after a bit and leaned into your close friend’s side. It was only the first lap when it happened, the start for Charles was great until Max regained the lead of two very good friends of yours. Your heart hammered in your ears as your eyes never left the monitor.

Gasps sounded out throughout the entire garage when Carlos went off track and hid the barrier, his car span slightly but thankfully from what could be seen and what was shown on the monitors confirmed he looked okay, your heart sank thinking about the Spaniard knowing he wouldn’t be able to finish the race.

Frowning you walked a bit closer to the monitor seeing some board stuck to Pierre’s car, but that wasn’t what made your blood run cold. It was when you heard his clear distressed voice over the team radio about a tractor on the track while the drivers were still on it. A full red flag was not set for them to come back into the pit and one glance at Pyry confirmed your suspicion and what Pierre said was in fact true. Walking over to one of the women from the social media teams you looked over her shoulder a small sad smile sent your way when she saw you.

Someone had caught the tractor on the track, in the horrid conditions they were in, not only when Pierre who was at the back passed by, but when Charles and Max, even Sebastian passed it. Despite the cold and wet conditions, you could feel your anger rising, clearly, the FIA had learned nothing from Jules’ accident.

This entire race was a big mess, and if you were completely honest you wished for them to call it off, it was dangerous, and seeing them Disrespect Jules’ memory the way they did made you even more emotional. The race that was set to start again had been once again suspended, Pierre was in the garage headset on and talking to someone while you helped some of the guys hand out warm drinks to the team.

It felt like hours that you waited and being informed that the FIA wanted to have a word with Pierre made you bite your tongue not wanting to get into any trouble, you wanted it to be over, and you knew that Pierre wanted it to be over too.

When the end of the race came it felt like you could breathe again, breathing out a long breath you didn’t even know you were holding, excusing yourself from the team you quickly made your way to the restroom to empty the contents of your stomach and then deciding to wait for Pierre in his driver’s room.

Bouncing your leg up and down while playing with your fingers and staring at the blank white wall you looked up when the door opened and saw your exhausted boyfriend. Flying up from the sofa you wrapped your arms around him and squeezed as tight as you could, feeling his arms go around you could also feel his shoulders start to shake.

Pulling away from him slightly you placed your hands on his cheeks wiping away the tears he had let out. It broke your heart seeing him like this, years you had known him, he had shared tears for dear friends that had been lost, but never after one of his own races.

“Shh, hey baby, shh it’s okay. Come here.” Pulling him with you to the sofa, you took a seat on the end and pulled him down with you. Wrapping your arms around him you let him get out the emotions he will have to put behind him when going out for his post-race interview, your fingers running through his hair helping him calm down as much as you could.

“How could they do that? Have they learned nothing about what happened to Jules? It’s so disrespectful to him and his family. I-I could have-” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence Pierre Gasly.” Pushing him back you straddled his hips and weaved your fingers through his hair and making him look up at you.

“You are here, you are safe, and yes, what they did was totally unacceptable, they are disrespectful and they need to be checked. Right now I am just grateful you are here.”

Kissing his forehead you smiled and hugged him closer to your body again, feeling him relax made you feel somewhat pleased with yourself knowing you could calm him down. Your comfortable bubble was broken when the door opened revealing Pyry. “It’s time for the post-match interviews.”

Sighing you removed yourself from Pierre letting him stand up and pull on his jacket. Grabbing your hand you held onto his tightly as you followed him still quietly whispering into his ear, “after this when we leave, we can have all the Chinese you want and watch all your favourite films mon amour. If I have to fight Pyry myself I will.” Looking over your shoulder, you winked at the trainer who only shook his head with a smile, not even trying to protest.

Standing to the side next to some other drivers you had noticed him looking over to where you were the entire time even while talking and the glistening tears he refused to let out made your heart sink again. “Will he be alright?” Looking next to you making eye contact with Daniel and letting a small sad smile playing on your lips you shrugged and looked back at Pierre who was finishing up. “He will be, it’ll take a while, but he will be okay.”

When he finished his interview he left the press immediately and came to your side, his arm going around your waist his face resting in the crook of your neck.

“Can we go home now?” Waving to Daniel you turned around and wrapped your arms around him kissing his cheek. “Yeah, let’s go home, handsome.”

Tag List: @ifancycharlesleclerc @luv4gasly @sebchalmaxiel @gaslysgirl @greykitkepa @pierregasiy

ps: please let me know if you want to be part of the tag list.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 driver x reader #f1 one shot #f1 driver x you #f1 fandom #f1 drabble #f1 #alpha tauri #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #pierre gasly one shot

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clavissionary-position · 28 days

Text

The Kitty of Kogyoku

Azel: Matthias, will you come here for a moment? I have a fascinating theory.

Matthias: (stops poorly-carving an owl from World-Famous Achroite Wood) What is it?

Azel: You'll see. Would you please take Kagari's katana?

Matthias: But he's sleeping with it. He might have nightmares without it.

Azel: Not to worry. I'll simply give him God's Divine Protection™. He'll sleep like a baby warlord.

Matthias: Hmm. I can agree to these conditions. Very well.

Matthias: (takes Kagari's katana)

Matthias: (or tries to)

Matthias: He's got a really powerful grip. And I say that as a part-time logger.

Azel: Oh, my. That makes you the lumberjack lawyer, doesn't it.

Matthias: 😇 I am a man of many talents.

Azel: Like carving uglyー

Matthias: I'm sorry, what was that?

Azel: I said the 😇 emoji is copyrighted to me, and I charge a small fee for every use.

Azel: (slaps Matthias with an invoice)

Matthias: My apologies. I'll wire the fees to your temple immediately.

Azel: Thank you very much, it's always a pleasure doing business with you. But first, our katana problem...

Azel: (nods to Kagari) Tickle his chin like a cat.

Matthias: Like this?

Matthias: (tickles Kagari's chin) Tickle tickle tickle.

Azel: The sound effects are unnecessary, but, oh, look there!

Kagari: (drops his katana)

Matthias: I hope his enemies don't know about that trick.

Azel: We might be his enemies one day. Anyway, now that we're past that life-threatening stageー

Azel: (leans in to whisper) Kagari. What do you do when you're angry?

Kagari: (in his sleep) Resolve things peacefully by talking it out.

Matthias: (gasps)

Matthias: (looks at the katana)

Matthias: (looks at Kagari)

Azel: (uses Matthias' hand to pick the katana up and tuck it back into Kagari's embrace)

Azel: Could you repeat that, Kagari?

Kagari: (sleep-reaches into his pillow) Do you want to see the doodle I made of the guy I killed this morning?

Azel: No.

Matthias: Yes.

☆

Kagari: (recapping the episode) And then I got bored went to sleep for real.

Azel: A fine tale. But just because you don't have anything new to share for storytime doesn't mean you should recap events we were all present for.

Azel: Literally 20 minutes ago.

Azel: ...Sleeping so little will make you a liability to your fellow alliance-members, Kagari. Not to mention the toll it will have on your body. Don't make God watch you waste away.

Kagari: No one's making you watch anything. That's just how I operate. I've got to be ready for the kill at any moment.

Kagari: And, for the record, I do have new stories, but someone keeps insisting I censor all the blood and gore.

Matthias: (the owl carving is now in a special class of abomination) It's a shame because all the blood and gore truly feels like its own character with how you tell your stories.

Kagari: Thank you, Matthias. As always you have... (stares at the carving) ...impeccable...

Azel: Aaand here's your invoice for the chin tickles.

Kagari: You're not the one who tickled me.

Azel: Imagine if I didn't charge royalties for my ideas.

Kagari: Are you imagining it, Matthias?

Matthias: (tears in his eyes) I am.

Kagari + Matthias: The Perfect World.

Azel: Your carving sucks and I hope you fall on your katana.

a/n:

To my knowledge, Matthias is neither a logger nor wood-carver, he simply hails from a country with those industries. But in my head he absolutely is, and in such cases his shirt is always optional.

"Tickle his chin like a cat"—I learned a lot about cats from reading that Yves Like a Kitty bonus story 🤣

Oh also also I was inspired by incorrect ikevamp quotes by @/yanderepuck and @/evil-quartett

#ikemen prince #ikepri azel #ikepri matthias #ikepri kagari #incorrect quote folder

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wolfmoonmusic · 10 months

Text

Calloused Hearts - 6

Summary: You're stuck. And you're tired of running.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Tidemaker!reader (though this chapter seriously lacks that. I promise we'll get back to it soon)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, mentions of blood and wounds, mentions of dead character, reader's depressing thoughts, not great writing, major cliffhanger, reader death (maybe?)

w/c: 1322

A/N: This isn't my best writing lol. But here we are!!! I am so sorry for how long it took. This story is an insight into reader's past, so there isn't much of the crows.

Chapter 6:

Let’s just say sometimes you’re too impulsive for your own good.

You were currently surrounded by armed men and some Grisha, in an alleyway, exhausted and out of breath from trying to escape this very group for the past hour.

You were out of practice.

A day ago, this seemed like an amazing idea.

Going to find Wylan, without any backup.

Just because you couldn’t stand being around Kaz anymore.

Not when his intentions were so damn unclear.

One day you feel like you’re everything to him and the next day he doesn’t even care?

It hurt like hell. And so despite your initial apprehension, you��d decided to go save Wylan and then leave.

You didn’t know what you wanted from Kaz anymore, but this definitely wasn’t it.

Now, stuck, with no help, 2 Inferni, a Squaller, a Heartrender, a bunch of angry gangsters and a very satisfied looking PR, you started regretting the “saving Wylan” part of your plan. Maybe you just leaving would’ve been enough to get Wylan back to the Crows safely.

“You should know better than to run from me, kid.”

You laughed, “You really think you can beat me Pekka?” You sounded way too confident for your own good.

Fake it ‘till you make it right?

“You’re largely outnumbered and up against some of the strongest Grisha. How you see yourself getting out of here alive is beyond my imagination”

You looked at the Grisha then, something dawning on you. You knew all of them.

“Pekka please. There’s a reason Kirigan is going through so much to get me back to the little palace.” You raised an eyebrow at the Heartrender then, smirking, “I’ve defeated all of them before.” You watched the Heartrender’s eyes widen, as she looked to the other Grisha.

You had defeated them.

On multiple occasions. Together, alone. Every single Grisha in the Little Palace had fought you.

And you had never lost.

You had never allowed yourself to lose. Even though they often begged you for it. Because losing for them just meant more rigorous training. Losing for you meant not being able to see Kaz ever again.

Or so you had thought.

How foolish of you to trust the General.

He’d promised you a safe haven. He’d promised to bring Kaz to you. He’d promised to be your guardian and to protect you. He’d told you his story. About the everlasting pressure of having to undo what the Heretic had done. He’d taken care of you like an older brother would. You’d loved him.

But then you’d started to realize the truth of it all.

He was just using you.

Your powers. Your ability.

And then you ran.

And now you were here.

Honestly, you couldn’t tell which was worse.

You heard Pekka laugh, drowning out your thoughts.

“You’ve got confidence, I’ll give you that.”

Your jaw clenched.

You hated seeing him laugh. Men like him didn’t deserve to laugh.

“But you shouldn’t be that way.” He nodded to one of the men standing at the end of the alleyway and he disappeared behind the building.

“You see, I always have a plan. It’s how you get to where I am”

Then you saw the man again, but this time he wasn’t alone.

Wylan was with him, a knife pressed to his throat, hands tied at the back, the fear evident in his eyes. Your hands curled into fists at the sight.

“Pekka, there’s one thing you should know about me.” Your eyes flicked to him, a plan already forming in your head. “You can hurt me all you like. But you don’t touch my friends.” You seethed.

You flicked your arms then, water swirling around them as you gathered it from the atmosphere. You weren’t a normal Tidemaker. You could gather water from just about anywhere and that was what made you so powerful.

Pekka’s men started to charge, but you were quick to use the water to push them away, making them fall and drop their weapons. You created a watery shield around you as the Grisha started their attacks. Years of practice ensured that even a Heartrender could do you no harm. You ran over to Wylan as the man holding him pressed the knife closer to his throat, when a gunshot rang through the air, making a hole in the man’s chest.

You followed the sound to see Jesper standing on the roof, a grin on his face. You smiled, glad to see your friend. You dropped the shield, throwing one up around Wylan instead, who gave you a small nod in acknowledgement.

You turned back around to the Grisha, and the Guards who were coming to their senses just then, before a flurry of blue started taking them down one by one, as some fell down clutching their chests, revealing Nina and Matthias standing behind them.

A ball of fire flew towards you, which you quickly doused in water, but it drew your attention away from the Squaller who’s next attack sent you flying into the wall.

You grunted from the pain, getting up again, but unable to move as you were still pinned to the wall by a heavy gust of wind. The Inferni were busy luckily, trying to escape the Wraith and Matthias while Nina was helping Wylan get to safety. Jesper was handling the rest of the Guards, leaving you alone.

But where was Kaz?

You were stuck and the Squaller was inching closer to you with every step.

And then it struck.

You should wear bulletproof outfits more.

The bullet pierced through your skin, hitting your ribs and lodging itself inside. The Squaller was temporarily stunned, as you both turned to where the bullet had come from.

Pekka’s gun was pointed at you, his hair messy from whoever he’d just been fighting.

“He said he wanted you alive, but I’ve wanted you dead for a while now,” he rasped out.

“I’ve wanted you dead for longer,” came the all too familiar voice, as the boy swung his cane at the older man.

He was here.

You could feel yourself losing control, and you dropped to your knees, clutching your chest. The Squaller seemed torn between his duties to the General and his own hatred for you, the desire of wanting you gone that every Grisha had. They didn’t hate you. They hated how important you were.

Your hands were sticky with blood, as you subconsciously tried to add pressure to the wound. You flung your free hand towards the Squaller, throwing him back against the wall, away from you temporarily.

You hated how weak this made you feel. Unable to help the others, unable to finish what you came here for. Unable to live up to what you were supposed to be. How did Kirigan expect you to take on the Fold when you couldn’t handle a bullet?

But that was the harsh truth wasn’t it? You were a mistake. An abomination that shouldn’t exist. Your mother hadn’t wanted you. Your father’s wife had hated your existence because you were the reminder of her husband’s infidelity.

And that’s why after he’d died you ran.

You ran until you found Kaz and Jordie.

A temporary haven, until Jordie died.

And then you ran with Kaz until the Grisha had found you.

Then Kirigan took you in. Treated you like his family. But yet again that was temporary.

And then you ran from the Grisha, and from Pekka. From the fear of facing the truth of your life, and the feelings you had for the boy you loved.

You were tired of running. It didn’t seem like you mattered to anyone anymore anyways.

You’d destroyed what you’d had with Kaz. You were nothing to Kirigan without your powers.

The bullet had seemed to make you realize just how tired you were.

Just how much you wanted to rest.

And so amidst the chaos, you let your eyes flutter shut.

~~~~~~~~~

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theladyofdeath · 9 months

Text

Lady Death's Lover {I}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: Please be sure to read the trigger warnings before reading the chapter or any chapter from this story! I hope you all enjoy reading these chapters as much as I've enjoyed writing them. Writing this fic has been a coping mechanism of sorts. Please like, drop a comment, or reblog if you wish. x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

My Dearest Sister,

I must apologize for Feyre’s absence in this letter. She is angry with you after your previous words and says that Isaac Hale is more of a man than you will ever realize. Now, I know nothing of their relationship so I cannot chime in, but even with her in a bitter state, I wanted to reply to your kind and loving words.

I’m so pleased that your life with Tomas is so grand. It’s like a fairytale, one we read of when we were young. You’re like Cinderella, saved by a prince that could give you the world. I can only hope that I, myself, find such a happy ending one day.

You were right in your speculations. Greysen and I are no more. He’s promised to another, in fact. They shall be married this season and although I understand - she is a beautiful lady of society, you see - I have still cried myself to sleep each night for a month. There is no need for you to come protect my honor. He has made his choice and it is one that I must live with. By the Mother’s grace, I shall move on.

Do you think that there is a time when I can come visit you? A ball sounds so exciting. What are they like? I imagine lovely treats and drinks and magnificent dresses. Oh, and lovely music where couples dance until wee hours of the morning. I’ve been practicing my dances, although I have very few opportunities to use such knowledge around here. I hope to attend events this season to show my newfound skills. My favorite is the waltz. How romantic!

Tell Tomas we say hello. Feyre, although angry, sends her love. So does father. We miss you, dear sister. I hope to hear from you soon.

Your sister,

Elain

Nesta

“Undress.”

I notice my husband comes into my room but he waits ten minutes before saying a word. Of course, the first word he says is demeaning, but I do not have the right to refuse him. Even so, I pretend to read my book for another moment, although there is no use in reading. The air is too thick when he is present to read. Even my escape becomes nonexistent.

“Nesta.”

My name on his lips feels wrong. There is no awe in it, no love. There is only a hint of annoyance. Reluctantly, I place a ribbon between the pages of my novel and close it shut.

“Apologies, my lord,” I say. I hardly recognize my own voice. “It is hard to put down a story so captivating.”

“Ah,” he says, chuckling, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine. “I should have known, my headstrong wife. Come. Undress.”

I am only in my nightdress, and it hardly hides a thing, but I don’t say as much. What’s one more layer gone?

When I stand, I feel I am no longer in my body. I feel like an outsider, watching myself from a distance with an empty space where my heart should be. I hardly notice his eyes on me as I slip my shift off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. I stand before him, bare and unfeeling, glad he is only looking and has yet to touch.

I know the peace will not last long.

He approaches me.

As he begins stripping off his shirt and trousers, I lay back down in the center of my bed and wait. I find a spot on my ceiling, a spot next to the golden trim where it seems a spark flew too high out of the fireplace. I focus on the spot, then my breathing, and as my husband crawls on top of me, I force my body to relax.

As he pushes into me, that spot becomes my anchor.

I did not want to marry Tomas. The truth of the matter is that I would have married anyone, and I probably would have hated every man pushed in my direction just as much as I hate Tomas. I have yet to meet a man worthy of anything other than disdain that has a title to his name and although me marrying a man with a title, with money, was necessary, I know that I would’ve been happier marrying a man that had absolutely nothing.

I’ll never know.

We were wealthy once, when my mother was alive, but after her death everything seemed to fall apart. My father made a series of poor business decisions and it left us with nothing. It wasn’t until Lord Tomas Mandray visited our village for a weekend last Autumn that our luck changed. We were in the right place at the right time and he took notice of me. My father negotiated our marriage and that was that.

I had no say in the matter. Yet, I would stand by every time, would let it happen all over again if given the chance. My sisters are cared for, thanks to my husband’s generosity. As is my father, but I could care less about his happiness, if I may be so blunt. He has never given a damn about me. Why should I feel any differently?

Above me, Tomas grunts. It’s a horrible noise, recurring, until his body grows tense, releasing inside of me. I keep still. The stiller I am, the quicker this ends.

He collapses on top of me and catches his breath. I lay there, flat on the mattress until he rolls off of me and rises from the bed, redressing. I do not move until he’s gathered all of his garments and walks toward the door, his exit.

“I’m going to the club,” he says, and that’s it. The door shuts behind him and I’m being enveloped in the silence. For a moment, I cannot move. I continue to stare at the spot on the ceiling, its grand display becoming a comfort to me. I let Tomas’ release drip out of me, unsure if I want to become with child or not. A child would be a blessing, an heir, my duty, but it would also be Tomas’s, and there is a part of me, a selfish part of me, that does not want to progress his bloodline. Perhaps a man as brutal, as demeaning, as execrable as him should not reproduce. I know that children are not their parents, but I also know Tomas.

The air suddenly becomes brisk against my bare skin but I can’t bring myself to move. When I move, I’ll have to get up, I’ll have to clean myself, I’ll have to redress and pretend as if everything is fine.

Nothing is fine. Fine is irrelevant.

The spot on the ceiling begins to blur and I cannot tell if I am crying or my eyes have simply given up. Either way, I feel nothing. I’m not certain how long I lay there, how many minutes or hours pass, but the sky outside remains dark as time goes by, dismissing my emptiness into nothingness. I pray to the gods, the Mother, the Cauldron, anyone who is willing to listen to give me an ounce of strength.

I’ve no clue what time it is by the time I finally convince my feet to move, finally convince myself to rise and cleanse the remnants of my husband’s seed from my body. When I lay down again, I close my eyes and pretend to fall asleep until it finally claims me.

~.~.~

Cassian

The numbers are not where they should be.

I’ve gone over this month’s pages twice now and I feel a sense of panic rising up inside of me so I pour a drink, then another, until the numbers no longer scare the shit out of me. I’ve only started feeling the joyous buzz when the door to my study bursts open and my two closest friends, my brothers, stride through the door, unwelcomed and not caring.

“Get up!” Rhysand says, grinning in that way that I equally love and hate. The grin that says something terrifying is about to take place. “We’re going out.”

“I don’t want to go out.”

“You work too much,” Azriel mutters, plopping down on a settee against a far wall. “And that’s coming from me.”

“I’m trying to build an empire to pass onto my children,” I defend.

Rhysand barks a laugh. “What children? First you need a wife and you won’t find that sitting on your ass alone every night.”

“It’s late,” I say, but it’s more of a groan as I let my face fall into my hands.

“It’s not even midnight,” Rhysand mutters, shaking his head. “What happened to you? You used to be the fun one.”

“Yes, well, I’m nearly thirty. The fun had to end eventually.”

Azriel whistles. “Someone’s feeling morbid.”

“Hardly made a profit this month.” My words are muffled by my hands. “I think I’m going to have to raise the rents. Again. It’s been a shitty spring in the fields. Hardly anything’s been produced.”

Rhysand sighs, sitting next to Azriel and tossing an arm around his shoulder. “You’ve some money set aside, yeah? Look to invest. My investments bring in far more money than anything else.”

My hands fall from my face and land on top of the papers that are scattered across my desk. I nearly knock over a candle. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Sounds like a lot of work that I’m not prepared for.”

“Yeah, work that’ll pay off. Quickly.” Rhysand jostles Azriel’s shoulder.

Azriel sighs. “Are we getting a drink? I need a drink.”

“You two go,” I say, attempting to straighten the scattered papers. “I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner.”

“Know who you should meet with?” Rhysand asks, paying absolutely no attention to the words coming out of the rest of us. “Tomas Mandray. I hear he’s gotten a hold of a few profitable mines up north. Always looking for investors. Easy money.”

Just the name of that asshole makes me feel sick. “That guy’s a prick.”

“Yeah, a successful prick,” Rhysand says, and Azriel snorts. “You meet with him once a year and get a good payout every month. Surely that’s worth it.”

“Leave him alone,” Azriel says, eyeing the half-full bottle of brandy on my desk lovingly. “If he wishes to dismiss solid business opportunities, let him.”

“So you agree with Rhys?” I ask, picking up my empty glass only to realize there’s nothing in it.

Azriel’s lips thin. “I don’t care what you do, as long as it involves me getting a drink at some point.”

I lift a brow. “Something the matter? Seem agitated.”

“Az is always agitated.” Rhysand claps Azriel on the shoulder yet again, to his dismay. “I’ll set up a meeting. Go if you want, don’t if you want to keep crunching numbers until you fall asleep on your desk. Come. Az needs to be drunk.”

Azriel didn’t deny it. I suddenly feel a sense of selfishness, worried I’ve missed what’s been going on in both of their lives. Clearly something’s wrong with Azriel, something I should know about but don’t. I’ve been too engrossed in this shit. Abruptly, I stand up from my desk and try to smooth out my rumpled shirt. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Rhysand frowns and Azriel lifts a brow. The former asks, “With you looking like that?”

I sit back down. “You’re right. I should stay here.”

With a curse, Azriel stands and hurries out the door, leaving Rhysand and I alone.

“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, quietly.

Rhysand shrugs. “Won’t say, but I know it’s bad. He needs us. He needs entertainment.”

I sigh, fully aware I’m losing this battle. I realize that his carefree attitude tonight has been for Azriel’s benefit alone. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off.

“I know Mandray is the last person you want to spend your time with, but he’s honorable. In business, anyway. It’ll be worth it. I mean it. I’ll call for a meeting.”

I stare at my brother for a long time, knowing he’s the only person in this city more stubborn than myself. “Fine, but if this comes back to bite me in the ass, you’re paying for it.”

His grin tells me that he doesn’t give a damn. “It won’t. I’ve been doing business with him for years.”

Azriel comes back into the room at full speed, tossing a jacket and hat on my desk. “It’ll cover your wrinkled shirt. Come now.”

This time, when he rushes out of the room, Rhysand and I are following him. I’m not certain where we’ll find ourselves, in an opium den or brothel or a common gentleman’s club, but I must admit that as we walk out of my townhouse, into the cool night air, I feel a little bit lighter.

If there is one thing I can count on, it is the company of the two men before me. We’ve known each other since we were children and they are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a family.

My father was a man of nobility but my mother worked in a brothel. Being his only son, my father recognized me as his heir but never named my mother. I used to think it was a curse but after my father’s death I saw it for the blessing it was. I don’t know if I’ll ever marry, but if I do…and if I have children of my own…they will be well cared for.

Financially. Morally. All of it.

When that day comes, if it comes, I’ll consider myself a lucky man. But, for now, I follow Rhysand and Azriel from one side of town to the other to be the fun, young bastard I once was.

I’ll need it, especially if I’m getting into business with Lord Tomas Mandray.

#fanfic #acotar #fanfiction #nessian #acowar #acomaf #sjm #period au #19th century au #nesta #cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta

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