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floralcyanide · 15 days

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ɪ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ― ᴘᴀᴜʟ ᴀᴛʀᴇɪᴅᴇs

paul atreides x fem!reader (nsfw)

You enjoy your wedding night with Paul in a daring way.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, female anatomy described, knife play, fingering, mutual orgasm, aged-up paul, post-wedding sex

✣ word count: 1.2k

✣ author’s note: a surprise wip! it was even a surprise to me lol. I watched Dune/ Dune 2 a month ago but somehow just got the inspiration to write for Paul. I need to read the series, the size of the books intimidated me in middle school so I never read them lol ): anyway, I hope yall enjoy!

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | i like the devil - purity ring

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You’re standing in the mirror, admiring the off-white gown that flows behind you in a trail. It’s adorned in gold and pearl and fits you flawlessly. It’s the first moment of quiet you’ve had all day and your first time alone since this morning. It’s your wedding evening, and you’re now married to Duke Paul Atreides. This meant you’re the new Duchess of Caladan, a title that rolls off your tongue with satisfaction. Nothing seemed finer than being the leader of your people with your lover by your side. You are too busy in your thoughts and don’t notice Paul entering the suite and walking up behind you. He wraps his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours.

“What’s on your mind, my darling bride?”

“Nothing,” you smile, “It’s nice to hear that, though. Me being your bride.”

The sun is setting behind the cliffs of Caladan, showering the large bedroom in its golden glow through the windows of the Castle. The light falls onto Paul, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. He looks at you with adoration through the reflection of the mirror. The same adoration he’s always looked at you with, but this time, his eyes are darker with a storm of desire. It’s the perfect evening to explore those desires, after all. Paul pulls away from you, beginning to unbutton his ceremonial wear, careful with the ancient fabric. You turn to help him with it, easing it off his shoulders. Paul doesn’t bother changing into something comfortable, knowing it won’t be on for long. He guides your dress down your arms and body, admiring the lace covering your most intimate parts. Paul takes your hand, kissing the top of it as he gets down on his knees before you. He pulls off your intricate shoes, the very ones that have been bothering your feet since this morning. You sigh in relief. Paul’s hand grasps your ankle as he brings it to his lips, kissing up the side of your calf as he makes his way to your thighs. He kisses your warm skin as he nears your clothed core. You hold your breath in anticipation, but before Paul reaches the desired destination, he removes his lips.

“Come with me, my love,” Paul moves to lay on the large bed, beckoning you to follow him.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” you sigh, letting yourself relax into the cushy pillows.

“Don’t go sleeping on me yet,” Paul chuckles, hovering over you before pressing his lips to yours.

You grab his face, letting your hands slide through his mess of curls. He deepens the kiss before traveling to your neck, gently pecking your sensitive skin. Paul allows you to arch your back so he can unclasp and remove your bra. He then works your lacy garments down your legs and off your ankles. You’re entirely bare before him now, and this time around, it’s different. You belong to each other wholly now and can share intimacy knowing you’re forever bound.

“Beautiful,” Paul whispers, letting his hands roam your body, “Can I try something?”

“Depends,” you bite your lip, “Will I like it?”

“Oh,” Paul scoffs, “You’ll love it. I know how you are, always wanting to try new and risky things.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Risky?”

Paul leans over to the bedside table and retrieves a small dagger, one that had been gifted to him for your wedding. He hesitantly brings it to your throat, pressing the flat of the blade to your pulse.

“How about this, hmm?” Paul asks, searching your eyes for any indication of fear, but finds excitement instead, “You like it, my darling?”

“Yes,” you exhale, letting yourself melt into the bed despite the weapon at your throat. You fully trust Paul.

“Good,” he smiles, allowing one of his hands to slap your cunt, sending a surge of electricity through you as you yelp from the sudden movement.

Paul circles your clit with a slow finger, biting his lip as your mouth gapes open in a silent cry. You buck your hips as you grow wet from the feeling of a dagger to your neck and Paul’s sensual touching. He gathers your wetness with his other finger before slipping it inside you, curling it immediately to stretch you out. He presses his thumb to your bundle of nerves as he pumps his middle finger in and out. Paul tosses one of your legs over his shoulder to get a better angle, adding another finger. He’s on his knees, firmly planted on either side of your legs, his lean body still hovering over you. You slide your hands over his torso before teasing the waistband of his underwear, which is growing a little tight. Paul pauses his movements to tear off the remaining clothing before he decides to lay on his stomach momentarily to get a taste of you. He licks a fat stripe up your weeping slit, suckling your clit to elicit a moan from you before resuming his previous position above you. Paul pumps himself a few times before gliding his tip along your entrance, gathering your arousal before slowly pushing in.

“Paul,” you moan, throwing your head back as Paul presses the sharper edge of the dagger to your pulse point.

Your heart roars in your ears at the adrenaline racing through your veins. One wrong move is all it takes. And it excites you. Paul finds himself fully sheathed inside you, catching his breath. You urge him to move, and he pulls himself almost entirely out of you before guiding himself back in. He picks up a rhythm, pounding into you as he holds the blade to your neck, his green eyes almost black now. You aren’t shy about how loud you are as Paul hits your g spot dead-on, and you try your best to be still when he does so the dagger doesn’t dig into your skin. Its sole purpose is to keep you under Paul’s control; you love every minute of it. Paul is gripping your hip with his other hand, helping you fuck yourself onto his length at the same time he’s thrusting into you. Paul moves the dagger down your chest to tease around the circumference of your breasts. You feel the familiar knot in your stomach tightening, and you warn Paul by wrapping your legs around his waist. He knows to pick up his pace when you do this. He completely discards the dagger beside you on the duvet, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slams into you, his grunts and moans growing louder. You can feel your arousal seeping out of you and surging around Paul’s cock, the sound of it mixing with the slapping of skin.

“You’re so beautiful, my love. Will you cum for me?” Paul digs his fingernails into your hips, feeling himself growing closer to his orgasm.

“Yes,” you gasp, watching him move in and out of you, “I wanna cum for you, Paul.”

“Then let go, doll,” Paul coerces, his hair falling in his face.

You let your orgasm wash over you in a hot wave, your body going limp as Paul loses himself in the way your cunt clenches around him with a vice. His orgasm follows yours soon after, his cum filling you up. Your chest is heaving as Paul pulls out of you slowly before falling onto the bed next to you. He draws you into his chest, moving your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear.

“So beautiful,” Paul whispers, and you smile before carefully turning to face him.

You stroke his cheek, “I’m so glad to be married to you.”

“And I to you,” Paul kisses your palm.

#paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x reader smut #paul atreides smut #dune #dune part two #dune movie #paul atreides x you #paul atreides x you smut #paul atreides x y/n #paul atreides fanfiction #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides fic #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #floralcyanide writes

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feyascorner · 3 months

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10 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. “The damage you’ve done to my stomach is plenty. Thank you, darling,” he frowns. “And if I may: It isn’t completely fair to place all the blame on me, is it? I might’ve been intoxicated, but I wasn’t deranged enough to miss the way you kissed me back. Aggressively, might I add?”

You roll your eyes. “I was trying to bite your lip off.”

“I would believe you if you hadn’t made such teasing sounds when I bit back.”

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, tav reader is a bard, italics are flashbacks, suggestive content!!!! (new warning hehe)

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. actual????? communication????? after 45k words?!?!?!?!?!? or is it...this chapter is literally them being loser teenagers i love them

To you, his touch is like a drug.

His breath, cool against your hot skin, presses against the shell of your ear as something dangerously close to a whine escapes your lips. You can feel him grin as he lowers his head and places a long kiss on your collarbone. His slender hands slide up your back, grinding you even closer than you already are as he mouths at every nook and cranny of your body. It’s almost like he wants to consume you whole. To drink you until all that’s left is a shuddering mess, your body still begging for his own.

White curls tickle your chin as the strings on your shirt finally come undone. His tongue brushes against the peak of your bare breast, and your eyes meet him in a lust-clouded haze, lips pursed as you swear you could reach your peak just by the way he looks at you. It’s so intimate, so vulnerable, so pleasurable that your eyes half close when the palm of his hand smooths against your clothed core.

He stills, lifting his head to kiss his way up to your neck again. As much as you want to beg him to resume what he’s been doing, he doesn’t let you. Instead, his fingers bring your face to his.

“Don’t hide from me.”

You shudder. You think you know plenty with how flushed your face is, but he doesn’t seem to care. He lowers back down your chest, grinning as he lays his cheek on your skin teasingly.

“If you look away, I’ll stop, my love.”

“Are you insane? Of course, he’s staying here!”

You lurch up from your pillow as the earth-shattering reality of the morning sun blares you awake. Cheeks burning, you rub at the bags under your eyes, humiliated in the face of nobody but yourself, as you hear more voices from downstairs. None of which even try to keep it quiet. You stare down at your legs, lips pursed.

Only still half-awake, you can practically feel his hands on your waist.

Curses. What are you? A prepubescent teen?

With a loud groan, you force yourself onto your feet. Considering how your dreams will only add to your stress, you might as well.

“Oh, thank gods you’re here. Tell him we’re not taking Astarion with us to the celebration, will you?” Shadowheart hisses as you descend the stairs, still half asleep. “Our wizard seems to have gotten the wrong idea about the leech upstairs.”

You swear Lae’zel snorts.

“It was only a suggestion. I wasn’t sure if we’d want to leave him alone here…isn’t that merely an invitation for him to run away?” Gale rubs his temple with his thumb, clearly exhausted.

You’re fully aware of Astarion’s nightly escapes into the city, but you don’t tell them that. It’s better not to cause a panic.

Shadowheart shrugs. “We’ll tie him to the counter. Hells, we can just lock him into the basement.”

Gale sighs. “He’s not a dog.”

“He acts like it,” Lae’zel grumbles, sinking her teeth into an apple.

“We could ask the Duke to spare some of his soldiers for the night. Make them keep watch while we’re at the party,” Shadowheart offers. “Anything to keep that dirtbag here instead of there. Isn’t that right, Tav?”

Gale’s eyes meet with yours. There’s a sort of expectancy in them that makes you squirm in your shoes as they bore straight into your soul as if he’s aware of your deepest secrets. There are bags under his eyes, surely from having to balance Astarion’s less-than-likable presence with all his other responsibilities in rebuilding the city. A part of you feels guilty for the work you’ve dropped on him, but both parties know it’s for the best.

It’s been made glaringly obvious that you and Astarion shouldn’t be anywhere around one another. It’s only a recipe destined to end in a yelling match or…

Your cheeks flare. Last night was a mistake. It won’t happen again.

“We’ll keep him here. Lock him in his room like Shadowheart said,” You finally blurt. “Can you send the invitation back with everyone who’s going? I have someone to visit in a few minutes.”

“Very well,” the cleric smiles, obviously pleased with your decision. Gale only frowns. “I’m glad that’s settled.”

So are you.

You hear the door of Astarion’s room open upstairs and decide you shouldn’t stay any longer. After rushing goodbyes to your companions and another questioning glance from Gale, you scramble to fly out of the house, barely grabbing your bag in the process. The contents weigh more heavily than they usually do, and for good reason. Hopefully, younger vampires feed less than fully grown ones because otherwise, the squirrel you found the night before won’t be able to satiate Berry’s appetite.

It’s hard not to wonder how she’s doing for most of your day. You were initially planning to visit her last night until the unfortunate ambush Petras released onto your already sore limbs. Even now, you constantly rub at the ache of your thighs and arms. The healing potions did plenty, but they couldn’t do everything.

She must be starving, you think. You grit your teeth.

Fortunately for you, however, when you arrive at the Highberry residence, Berry seems perfectly fine. In fact, she’s helping her adopted siblings arrange decorative plants around the house, likely to liven up the place after what’s been happening the past few months. There’s a sense of calm here that doesn’t currently exist in your own household. The scene makes a soft smile pull at your lips, which is more than welcome.

“You didn’t visit last night,” the young girl finally says when you’re with her by the window, far enough from the siblings to be out of earshot. She looks up at you sheepishly. “I thought you might’ve gotten attacked.”

She picks at her fingers.

“Were you worried?” you stifle a laugh, and she shrugs, albeit flustered. “I brought you some—prey. You must be hungry.”

“Not really,” she still takes the worn sack and clutches it close to her. “I went out to find food by myself.”

At this, your eyes widen. “What? You left for the forest? You know that place is dangerous, Berry; it’s not safe for someone as young as you.”

“I’m a spawn. It’s probably safer for me than you,” she squints, and you can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“...You’re still a child,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Where’d you learn to hunt anyway? The last time I checked, you could barely fight off a few forest animals.”

Her face flushes red, but she huffs regardless. “The haggard taught me.”

“Hag?...”

“Your friend,” Berry perches either of her arms on the windowsill, staring out at the passing civilians on the street. She whips her head to you and points at either of her fangs, opening wide. “He’s been teaching me to hunt with these.”

“Astarion?” you blink. “He taught you? Willingly?”

It’s rather hard to believe.

“No, I had to follow him. By the time he noticed, he didn’t have much of a choice,” she says proudly, puffing out her chest. Then she deflates again as if she just tasted something sour. “He got two big bears last night but wouldn’t share…So, I had to get my own squirrels because he told me I’d starve otherwise. That old hoot is selfish and mean.”

Well, it certainly sounds like him.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” you scold her gently.

“Maybe by him.”

You want to say that she’s wrong and that Astarion wouldn’t hurt her, but the blasted comb flashes back in your mind, and reality sits heavy in your throat. So, instead, you bite your tongue.

“Have you found any of them yet? The other spawn?” she pushes herself off the wall to stand straight.

“I did—if fighting them counts.”

Her face falls and a part of you regrets even alluding to what happened last night. She begins to fidget with the sharp ends of her nails again and stares at your shoes. “There’s too many of them.”

You’d most certainly know.

“We have the Fist fighting for us,” you assure her, albeit pathetically. Even in your own ears, you don’t sound entirely confident. “And besides, the murder count has been decreasing as of late. If we keep going at this rate, we won’t have more than a body every two weeks—”

“It won’t work that way, though. They’ll just keep coming back.”

Were children always this perceptive?

You’re not sure what to say.

She clenches her fists. “Not all of them are bad, you know.”

“I know, Berry. You’re not a bad person at all; it’s just that—”

“I meant the siblings,” she blurts, finally meeting your eyes. “Aurora…she was nice. She was nothing like Petras.”

Aurora?

You’re suddenly leaning down to her, shoulders tense. “You’ve met the other siblings? Since when?”

“Only once, months ago. Petras tried to convince the others to stay here with him, but they said no,” her brows furrow. “He was furious that day.”

Of course. Why didn’t you realize that earlier? Petras, Dalyria, and Leon were the only ones of the main spawn that remained in the city, and being so swept up with their antics, you’d forgotten to ponder on the motivations of the others. You swallow the dry lump in your throat as realization slaps you across the face.

“So not all of them want to go through with the ascension?” you gasp. Berry pauses but nods slowly.

Help. You could ask them for help. Surely, if they don’t want another Cazador running rampant in the city, they’d be willing to stop the ritual as a whole. You gnaw at the inside of your cheek as your mind races. Were they even aware of what Petras was up to? How many lives he’d taken?

You take her hands to stop her from picking at them, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Berry, where are the other siblings?”

“They told Petras they were leaving for the Underdark like they promised you.”

Gods, bless this girl. Somehow, she’s been more helpful than any other resource you’ve had the past few months—including the Duke, and your vampire spawn. You’d think she might be a blessing from the heavens if it weren’t for all the other bullshit they’ve thrown your way as of late.

“Tell Cora I dropped by,” you smile brightly. Though it’s rare nowadays, you feel almost hopeful. “I’ll come back in a week. Stay put until then.”

By the time you realize how much time has passed being cooped up on your bedroom floor, the sun is already setting. You reach for a candle, flicking a match against the box before lighting a flame to illuminate the pages sprawled around you. In anyone else’s eyes, you might look nearly hysterical, but to you, it feels as if the weight of the entire city is on your shoulders again. In a way, you suppose it is. Unless you want more than just a couple dozen bodies on the city streets in a few months, that is.

Your eyes scan over Dalyria’s drawings for what seems like the millionth time. And for the millionth time, you find nothing. Since the last time you obsessed over her journal, there have been a few additions to your collection: some books on ascension, vampires, and, for some reason, a book on vampire lords.

You’re not sure you see the point in picking up this particular book, considering the spawns’ master is long dead, which means none of them can become a true vampire unless they were to ascend—the exact scenario you’re trying to prevent. But perhaps spending an entire day at the library blossomed a newfound curiosity within you.

There isn’t much in there you don’t already know from first-hand accounts Astarion would recall on the nights you couldn’t fall asleep. There are parts, however, regarding the vampire spawn they can compel that lure your attention.

“Vampire spawn were the masters of stealth and charismatic cunning,” you read mindlessly. “...vampire spawn would seek vengeance on their creators.”

Vengeance. Is that what it was when he tried to strangle you?

Your jaw clenches, and you feel a sort of buzzing on your lips. What an asshole.

Quickly, you shut the book with a slam as you decide that dwelling on information you’re already well accustomed to is a waste of time. You’d likely be a better source of knowledge than the book itself because of how basic its contents tend to be.

You stare at the cover, which simply illustrates a set of fangs. Cliche, you think, but it’s effective.

The room suddenly feels too quiet.

Fortunately, the uncomfortably loud growling of your stomach snaps you out of your trance.

Shoving the book under your bed, you swing the door to your room open to pace to the kitchen. Hopefully, there’s some dinner left over from last night—-worst-case scenario, you have to eat one of those days-old fruits gathered in the bowl on the counter. You don’t have much time to ponder, though, because you hear a familiar groan from downstairs as soon as you reach the top of the stairs.

“Will you please stop leaving dead animals in the cabinet? As grateful as I am that you’re feeding on them rather than our friends, it bloody reeks, Astarion!”

Shit.

Astarion stares up at you with wide eyes on his way up to his room while you blink down at him wearily. Gale continues to mutter mindlessly about whatever trouble the spawn has caused in his sacred kitchen, but Astarion doesn’t seem to pay him any heed. You feel naked under his gaze, but you think putting on at least four more layers of clothing wouldn’t even scratch the surface of how you feel.

“Good morning,” he blurts.

He never greets you. Not like this, anyway.

It’s not even morning.

Fortunately, he looks just as confused at his words as you do.

Searching for a response that won’t come to you, you refer to the lamest solution. A scapegoat, if you will. “I need to walk past you.”

Astarion immediately nods. “Right. Yes, of course.”

He stands to one side of the narrow stairs, and you cautiously squeeze past him. Has it always been this much of a struggle to fit two people on the stairs? It’s terribly awkward as you shuffle by, holding the air in your lungs in hopes that he doesn’t recognize how uneven your breath is. You’re sure he does, but it was worth a try anyway.

Suddenly, Gale is standing at the bottom of the stairs in front of you.

“Where are you going? I thought you needed a healing potion for your stomach,” he aims at Astarion with a raised brow.

The said spawn coughs. You almost choke on the air. “No, I—I’m alright now.”

“Are you sure? That bruise was pretty nasty, my friend. Letting something like that fester will surely only hinder you…”

Astarion closes the door to his room. Slams, more like.

You glance at Gale pitifully, who only crosses his arms with a sigh as he turns to return to the kitchen. “He’s moodier than I was when I was going through puberty.”

Wordlessly, you trail behind him until he resumes whatever dish he’s cooking up inside a pot while you reach for an apple. There’s a comfortable silence as you perch yourself on the counter, legs gently swinging as you chew, cringing whenever you feel a mushier part of the fruit. Gale lifts his ladle to his nose and takes a quick sniff before nodding in satisfaction. He then puts the lid over the pot.

“I’ve never seen Astarion as awkward as he was earlier,” he comments, and you cough.

“He wasn’t that charming in the first place,” you grumble.

“I never said he was charming. Just that he isn’t awkward.”

“Maybe he’s still drunk from last night,” you scoff, blood boiling at the mere thought of how he acted. A strange sense of pride spreads through you, knowing you hit him hard enough to do some damage, but you still think you could’ve hit harder. All those months pent up should’ve garnered far more strength, surely.

“Or perhaps it’s from the kiss.”

You do choke on your apple this time.

After you wheeze out whatever apple chunks were lodged in your throat, your head whips in the wizard’s direction. “Gale, you–”

“It wasn’t voluntary, I’ll have you know,” he cuts in, crossing his arms. “I just happened to leave one of my books on the couch, which I only wished to retrieve for my nightly routine of reading at least 100 pages.”

You’re at a loss for words. Your face deepens in color, even as you beg it not to.

“I, of course, being the most fortunate lad I am, had to walk into the room when his tongue was halfway down your throat.”

You nearly shriek. “There was no tongue!”

“Well, that’s certainly a relief!” he laughs. “I likely would have had to pry my eyes out with one of Lae’zel’s swords otherwise!”

On any other occasion, you’d bite back at him, but you’re too busy drowning in your own humiliation to register half of his words. A blessing and a curse in this case.

“It didn’t mean anything!” you blurt, even though he never really asked. “It was—he kissed me. I punched him afterward, too.”

Gale raises a brow. “Really? It appeared to me that you were kissing back, though it might have just been the angle. Quite passionately, too, but that might’ve been the trick of the light…”

You slap your palms over your ears, praying to the gods that he shut his mouth for once in his damn life. “It didn’t mean anything!”

“Does he know that?”

“He hates me! And he’s kissed hundreds of people—I doubt one stupid kiss even bothers him.”

“Yes, but it’s a kiss from you. His ex-lover,” Gale shoots back. “And he doesn’t seem unbothered. Neither of you do.”

“So what?” You know exactly what, but it’s difficult to acknowledge at the moment.

“Tav,” Gale says carefully. “If you’ve—by any chance—begun to grow accustomed to his presence again…and I don’t blame you at all, by the way. I’ve become rather fond myself of forcing him to listen to magic lectures that nobody else is willing to listen to; however…if it’s becoming something more on your end–”

“It’s not,” your tone is more stern this time. Colder. “It never will be.”

“Really?”

“Do I need to punch him again for you to believe me?”

“That’s not quite what I’m getting at. I just witnessed the tension between the two of you, and it would be irresponsible of me as a friend if we didn’t work through what you’re feeling before things start to get out of hand.”

You groan, throwing your hands in the air. “There is no tension, Gale!”

“Now now, I might not be the most experienced out of all of us in romantic affairs, but I’ve had my fair share of them. With a goddess, no less! It would be wise if you heeded my advice and discussed what the kiss meant to both of yo–”

You clap a hand over his mouth, words gritting through your teeth. “Stop saying it!”

His response comes out muffled against your palm.

“Fine, I’ll talk to him. I’ll go up to him right now and tell him how I’ll bury him alive if he tries anything again. Would that be enough to shut you up?”

Gale smiles. You don’t return it.

The angry march up to Astarion’s room should’ve been enough to wake up your other companions, but it doesn’t. You knock heavily on his door, foot tapping impatiently as you glare at Gale, who stands halfway up the stairs, grinning from ear to ear in a pathetic attempt to be encouraging. It only makes you want to shrink into your shirt.

When Astarion fails to answer after multiple knocks, you decide you have no time for this. “I’m coming in. Please don’t be naked.”

The door doesn’t even have a lock. His room is empty except for the cold air that hits your cheeks. You realize that the window is swung wide open, allowing the moonlight to pour onto the wooden floors where he’s left his cloak in favor of what you assume to be usual nightwear. You pull the door behind you and cautiously step into his room, eyes glazing over the rest. It’s a stark contrast from your own. Despite how much time he spends in it, there isn’t a speck of dust or an article of laundry where it shouldn’t be. His bed is neatly made, his chair pushed into his desk, and if it weren’t for his books organized on his desk, you’d think nobody even lives here.

You slowly inch toward the window, running your fingertips over his books. They’re worn but somehow still well taken care of. You can feel how old they are, yet their pages remain perfectly intact, without a single crease on any corners.

When you reach the window, you finally notice the vines growing on the sides of the building that protrude just over the window sill. You hear soft thumps from the ceiling, resembling the pace of his footsteps. Or at least, what do you think they’d sound like if he made any sounds while walking.

The asshole knows you’re here. Of course, he does.

With a wary glance at the vines, you firmly grip both hands on the roots and slowly lift yourself off the windowsill. Thankfully, the stones making up the building make for good boosters to haul you up toward the rooftop, even though your instincts suggest you’d likely fall and die an unfortunate death here. Still, somehow, you manage to haul yourself onto the roof's edge with a final groan.

You slump rather unceremoniously onto the angled edge, and the slight snicker from the other occupant of the space doesn’t go unnoticed. You glare at him, and Astarion only grins, leaning back on both elbows. “Should I have lent you a hand?”

“I can climb a wall, thanks,” you snap, crawling to a spot that allows you to lie back and stay a generous distance away from the vampire spawn. The tiles of the roof feel cool against your skin. From only two stories up, you can see a full four streets further than you usually can from your window, where only a few people now shuffle through the city given the time of night. While you think it should be peaceful here, all you can focus on is the undead individual lying a good few feet away from you, staring up at the sky rather than the city.

“As much as I enjoy all the colorful insults you throw at me, I was hoping for some peace tonight,” he finally says.

“This is my rooftop that I paid for. I’ll go where I please.”

Astarion sighs, his eyes still gazing up at the stars. “Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence tonight? If it’s about the dead animals, I’ve already told Gale I’d store them outside from now on—”

“Last night didn’t happen.”

There. It’s like a weight off your chest. At least, it should feel that way.

He stops, moving to stare from the stars to you. “And since when could you manipulate the very essence of time?”

“Don’t get smart with me unless you want another repeat of yesterday. Maybe I’ll knock out a fang this time,” you hiss.

“The damage you’ve done to my stomach is plenty. Thank you, darling,” he frowns. “And if I may: It isn’t completely fair to place all the blame on me, is it? I might’ve been intoxicated, but I wasn’t deranged enough to miss the way you kissed me back. Aggressively, might I add?”

You roll your eyes. “I was trying to bite your lip off.”

“I would believe you if you hadn’t made such teasing sounds when I bit back.”

This boils your blood just enough for you to tear your gaze away from him and back onto the city. “Just forget it happened.”

“Must I?”

“Yes! It was clearly a lapse of judgment!”

“It was,” he affirms. From the corner of your eye, you can see him put his chin against the palm perched on his elbow, fully turning on his side to face you. “An exciting one. I thought I knew you well enough that I could trust you would never kiss me again.”

You glower. “I was bleeding half to death—I was barely conscious. For all I know, I thought you might’ve been someone else.”

You can both hear the obvious lie in the statement, but neither points it out.

“I do wish you’d stop doing that,” he mutters, staring through lidded eyes. “It’s hard not to pay you any attention when you constantly smell like fresh bait. It’s like seeing an entire feast before you but being unable to have a taste.”

“Yes, because I wanted to get attacked by your brother.”

“Right. That.”

He stares up at the sky again. Hells, if he stares any harder, you’d think his damn eyeballs would fall out. His white curls blow gently against the breeze, and from here, it appears like nighttime was really made for him. Or do all vampires just glow during the night?

“For all it is, I’m truly sorry.”

Your eyes resemble barrels as you turn to look at him. He’s now occupied with his hands—those flawless hands of his that, by some miracle, don't have a single scar on them even after all the two of you have been through. Those very same hands you’ve once loved and that you’ve grown to hate.

“I, of all people, should know what it feels like to have someone forced upon me. And if I had any sort of control over my body at the time, I assure you what happened last night wouldn’t have happened.”

Though it’s not the main point of his apology, you find yourself focusing on the implications. He would’ve never kissed you if he was sober. You know this—you’ve known this—so why you’re so preoccupied by this confession, you have no idea. Internally kicking yourself, you steel your mind to remain calm. He hates you. You hate him. Simple. You only notice, moments later, that he’s still talking.

“---and I’m aware we aren’t on good terms,” he says, softer. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stoop down to the levels of the dirtbags I had to deal with for two centuries. I might have questionable morals about all else, but in that aspect, I’m unlike them.”

Still wide and unblinking, your eyes slowly relax as you soak in his words. It’s been a while since you’ve heard him so sincere (in a manner that isn’t insulting), and it feels like a breath of fresh air. For a moment, you want to deceive yourself that you’d never reached Baldur’s Gate. That you and your companions are still camping in the woods, and Astarion is still only learning to care for another. That he never went to Cazador’s palace, and you never needed to stop the ascension.

You would’ve indulged in such fantasies months ago, but now, they feel too artificial to derive joy from them. They feel too hollow. Fake. Like biting into a poisoned apple. You can sense him waiting for your response, and it takes a moment, but you manage to mumble it out. “It’s fine. I did kiss you back. We were both not in our right minds. Just…forget it happened.”

You don’t know how to decipher the look in his eyes, but you’ve long given up on how to do it in the first place. Because every time you think you finally understand him, it turns out to be a mask or a plot to deceive you. And every time, you don’t see it coming. It’s better not to try at all because it means he has no way to lie to you in the first place.

“Very well,” he says numbly. “It never happened.”

Both your heads turn to look up at the dark sky. The stars twinkle overhead, glistening in their own respectful glories. There’s one in particular that shines the brightest, floating right beside another that dims compared to all the other stars. It seems to drag behind the brighter star like a shadow, always following but never truly acknowledged.

You pity it.

“Why did you quit music?” he asks suddenly. “I thought it was…your passion.”

“I can’t see the beauty in it anymore,” you say simply.

Astarion hums. “A shame. I was rather fond of your lyre.”

The brightest star almost appears to move again. The darker one trails right behind.

You raise your brow. “Is this where you run off to every night? To stargaze? It’s pretty, but doesn’t it get boring?”

“It’s not pretty at all, darling,” he grins, attention never leaving the sky. “I watch every night, hoping that the dimmer star dies out before the brighter one notices it’s there.”

Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova @madislayyy @lordfishflakes @nicalysm @djarinsway @tinystarfishgalaxy @brainz00 @hopeful-n-sad @ohdeerieme @madisban @chrismarium @chonkercatto @fanfic-share @bitterbeanren @sleepyred1703 @miskouly @ravenswritingroom @iamlowkeycrying @deezus-roy @spiritraves @mariposakitten @dinobae-replyacc @whisperingwillowxox @bdudette @misscrissfemmefatale @atropapurpurea @cosywinterevenings @phoenixgurl030 @generalstephkenobi @shadowsmusical @himesuedi @girlygmer-blog @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @hyperfixationwhore @teardropcup @marina-and-the-memes @kiwi-mansanas @woosaaghh @cminr @everybodystaycalm @divineknightmare @bangtanbecks @carolinelec @aelieknox @bluelovesleep @catching-fire-in-the-wind @moonlight-stay @thatbeanieboss @atotalmess-lol @lavender-romancer

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #tfbu #astarion x oc #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 companions #gale dekarios

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becasworldsstuff · 11 months

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Can i please request a romantic Simon Basset x OC/reader fic? Simon being completely in love with her since they were young, but since his father told him to go away, they separated. They met again.

-> Pairings: Simon basset x reader

-> warnings: none

Simon basset and miss l/n had always been friends, thing caused by her bubbly nature that could outshine the sun even in an August day. She was the only one with whom he could talk without stuttering, he felt at ease and nothing could really make him sad if she was near him. Her presence as a reminder that not all in life was sad and angry at him, that not everyone was disappointed in him, on the contrary she never made him feel bad about himself.

When the old duke of Hastings sent his son away due to the problems he was causing to his own mental health, the two were separated, nothing in means of letters or visits between the two for years if not the memories captured together and the burning sensations in the part of their body that the other touched, or the single pink flower dried out inside Skmon's favorite book that she gifted him as a reminder of the beauty hidden behind fragilness. Both the young hearts were left shattered thinking they would never see each other ever again.

But in his drawer were piled up letters written in his best calligraphy and on the best paper money could buy, for his best friend and little piece of heaven, who had been his own safe place in the mess his childhood had been.

It was her who motivated him enough to return to his old house when the man died, and he found her on the steps of his big place, with glimmering eyes and the brightest smile that ever existed. He stopped in front of her with his mouth that had gone dry, she had grown into the most exquisite young lady he had ever seen or imagined to lay eyes on, his eyes widened and his hands were begging for something to grasp onto to not loose balance while she watched him, she took one step forward and his heart skipped a beat. Even if he only realized now he could pinpoint her as the only woman in his life to which he could ever truly love, but he stayed silent, catching up with her like old times, not stuttering like when they were just little kids playing in the garden not caring about duties.

The days passed and the season started, now miss l/n obviously came from a very wealthy family and her kindness and beauty were known upon the society, but this was her first season, and her older brother and father refused to give away such a perfect girl to anyone so, when they catched up with the Duke longing stares they decided to talk to him, a man of honor, well bred, wealthy. Simon never in his life thought that he deserved for his dreams to become reality but he knew he was a duke and her best solution to this world of strange couples, so he was the one to go talk to her father, asking him her hand in marriage and bowing down on one knee with watering eyes as he proclaimed his love to her:

" never had I ever experienced such strong emotions nor strange feelings, my stomach flutters and my troath goes dry as if I was denying myself with water for you, you make my heart stop and the dream of seeing you walk down the aisle to me has been my favorite image for my life. So please accept my undying love for you because I cannot breathe if I'm not near you, neither I can eat or drink or sleep away from you, you are my sun and my moon and every single star in the sky, my whole body was created to match yours and my core only exists to love you and adore you, you make me burn like I was in a fire that cannot die. So please do me the honor and let me make you the duchess of Hastings "

Her response was awaited from the ball room that had just seen him pacing in front of the doors before barging in and stopping the dance that was occurring at the time, she held her breath and nodded slowly while forcing herself to blink as I'd to make herself realize that that moment was true.

#simon basset x reader #duke x reader #duke of hastings #brigerton #the duke x reader #childhood friends to lovers #bridgerton fanfiction

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crystalskiesandcherrywine · 2 months

Text

And all the pieces fall, right into place // Part Four

So these two slightly disturbed and (one of them at least) psychotic doves had to get married eventually ..

All feedback is welcome <3

English is not my first language

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

Warnings: Its finally smutty and its about Feyd, so....

_____________

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FxM

3.212 words

______________

Your descent is quiet, as you are still unable to think or speak clearly, while Feyd Rautha seems tense and concentrated. With the ease he demonstrated on the ascent, you are sure that this has nothing to do with him facing physical challenges with the task at hand. You want to ask him about it but decide to stay silent instead, afraid to reveal more of yourself than you already have. He was promised a Bene Gesserit bride, and so far, you have behaved more uncontrolled and wanton than you ever could imagine.

The sun's rays bask your ancestors' home in a golden blanket as you enter through the gates again, where servants are already waiting for you. The exertion of today takes its toll on you, and your limbs feel heavy. Na Baron, graceful and still full of vigor as if he had done nothing but rest all day, turns to you, taking your hand in his firm grip. The touch of his lips on your knuckles sends an electric current through your core, filling the air between you with something akin to longing. "My Lady," his voice a low murmur, a force veiled in restraint, before he enters the corridors of the castle, shadowed by the servants.

Left to navigate the tumult of your own mind, you all but flee to the room where the chaos began for you, the guest library, as if the essence of the last evening's events might still be found among the scrolls and candles in it. The door gives way under your touch, revealing the Reverend Mother and Lady Jessica in the velvet-draped armchairs, their gazes piercing the flickering light. "Ah... I just wished to—" Your words faltered, and you felt like yet again you are on the precipice of stumbling into something you cannot undo.

A welcoming smile graces your mother's lips. "I knew you'd come to us," she says, the question of how lay unasked as you stepped into their world, closing the door on the shadows that trailed you. You are not even surprised and just let the question of how go unasked.

The Reverend Mother's voice, calm and unfazed by your confusion, carries the explanation, so clean and cutting that you are shocked by the directness of it. "The Reverend Mother Margot at the Emperor's court has failed. She has convinced the emperor that she will bear him the Kwisatz Haderach," her words with an icy undertone, mixed with disgust. "The Emperor fears the loss of power, the alliances of our houses a threat he cannot ignore. The presence of the Harkonnens here is no accident; it's a guarantee of our safety."

Dryness claims your throat as the implications of this take form in your mind. "Does Father know? Am I the last to be told?"

"Your father is aware. Na Baron remains in the dark, but neither he nor the Baron Vladimir is blind to the currents of politics. Paul suspects as much." It takes all your resolve not to fall at your mother's feet as if her embrace might save you from any harm coming her way and your unborn sisters' way.

"Yet, it was he who wished that Arrakis be governed by us. My marriage, arranged from birth—" you state, confusion still swirling around you like dust in the air.

"Indeed, child. But Margot Fenring's betrayal has set a new course, one that places you at the heart of the Emperor's plans. The future is yours and Paul's to create now. If his marriage to the Fremen Princess is successful and you ensure you can manage some of Feyd Rautha's more volatile tendencies," the Reverend Mother pauses, "then your bloodlines will take control of Landstrad without even trying, and CHOAM holds loyalty to the Duke of Arrakis, no matter what they proclaim otherwise."

In the following days, you keep coming back to the library, training with your mother and Reverend Mother as much as you can. Lady Jessica couldn't help but feel a sting of pride at your eagerness and concentration, pushing yourself to your limits. This left you exhausted and almost silent during dinners, keeping your interactions with the Baron to fleeting gazes. It felt like each sight of him frayed your strained mind a little bit more, with darkness creeping into the edges.

You are aware that Na Baron continues his daily training undeterred. You hear Gurney and Duncan whisper about it amongst each other. They seem impressed with his combat skills, something that you don’t see them being often. You tell yourself that after making yourself rare for the last few days, it's only polite to see your betrothed the day before your wedding. Arriving at his guest quarters, you knock, but no one answers. Guided by an urge you are too afraid to name, you press on the indentation on the door, and within a step, you are in his chambers. His attire is folded with immaculate precision along the shelves, his blades, gleaming, lay in a seated shelf. It feels so intimate to get a peek into his tiny world here, an exhilarating feeling rushes through your body.

„What are you doing here?“

A hissing, high pitched voice behind you startles you. You swirl around and look into black eyes of a woman, boys as Na Baron, dressed in leather overall, if those tiny scraps couldn’t be called clothing at all. Her eyes have to whites or pupils, but are just filled with back, making her seem like a wild animal.

„Who are you“ You spit back at her.

„She is in Lots quartersssss… she will take him from ussssss“ Two other creatures appear from his bedroom, three of them looking together identically, The hair in your neck rises

„I am not the once to answer you. Now make space“ You take a step back, but the woman only come closer, his limbs moving slowly and in unnatural angels.

„Dont thinksss soo. Why let you leave if we can kill you and have him to ourselfesssss“ and with it one of them lunges at you, her nails at your neck, her meta smelling breath on your face. You smack her away, but its three agains one and you feel a stream of blood running down your gown and arms, the pain searing.

„Stop now“ within seconds you are free, crawling backwards and scrambling on get your feet

„Who are you?“

The creatures only make cracking sounds in return. „Well then,“ you finally regain composure and try to ignore the drops of blood on your hands. „You can keep that to yourselves as a last thing you do.“ And just as you are about to use your voice on them again, Na Baron appears with sweat running along his cheek, this tunic clinging to his body, revealing the chilled muscles of his chest and abdomen. His gaze wanders between you and the women, between your blood on the floor and the blood on their claw-like nails.

„ I see you could not behave as I told you“

For a second you are enraged only to realize that he is not talking to you. „What did I say?“ His voice is pure fury. „We are so sorry, my Lord. She was here uninvited, she shouldn't“" So you decided to lay your hands on my future wife? On my betrothed?“ The women treble with each word „“Forgive us my lord“ the pleas, black tears running down their cheeks. „I forgive you“ he says, looking into their faces and with a low, wishing sound he releases the blade from its holster on his hip, slinking through their throats in one motion.

You stare at the scene before you, the pool of blood crawling to your feet. He steps right through it and gazes into your eyes. „No one will hurt you again, my Lady. No one will ever lay hands on what’s mine“ You only nod and let his kiss seal the promise. Whatever softness he has shown before is gone and is replaced by hunger and ferocity that leaves you breathless. He seems to devour you with his tongue and as you come for air there is wickedness in his features. „I think you should run now, my princess, for I am not sure how long I can hold back myself“ Your feet run on their own, leaving him laughing in the wake. So this is a glimpse of what his true nature is rumoured to be, You would be lying if you would say you are enamoured with him even more now.

____

On the day of the wedding ceremony, you stay in your chambers. Duke Leto tries to protest as Paul comes to you, but his words fall on deaf ears. Only now do you begin to think of how many secrets had been whispered within those walls for centuries? Your handmaidens dress you, the gown is long and heavy with beads, mixing the vibrant green tones of Caladan, covered with floral patterns. As you move the beads sound almost like raindrops on cobblestones, a Melodie that carries you through the day.

When it is time, your father leads you to the grand hall, where guests are gathered in the sea of candles. The light of the flickering flames is mirrored by your dress and you hope it can distract from the crimson creeping up into your face. Na Baron stands at the end of your walk and suddenly you feel the weight of the legacy you are carrying, how the cloth that is going to bind your hands together will bind the destiny of your families into one. His figure is dressed in a flowing black coat, that od closed at his shoulders with chrome insignia of his house. His waist is lacking the ear so he presents knifes. He is a presence of solemn elegance. When your eyes meet, a hunger flickers through his composure, but otherwise he aims almost motionless. His white skin almost glows in the light, his posture reminiscent of the pillars at the entrance of the hall. The words of the vows are spoken and with the knot at your wrist, all the whispers of the future materialize in front of you. You can feel the heat radiating from your husband's body, but he doesn’t take your hand and his expression is more guarded than you could ever give him credit for. A small disappointment rears its head, but you focus on your breathing. Your prance, the paragon of elegance and dignity, stand at your side, while Baron Vladimir and his nephew, both imposing in their own way, seem to scan you and your family still with a touch of confusion, as if they are still unsure if this is the inevitable turnout of e union, their leaves whispering in the gentle breeze, a melody of timelessness and change.

_____

The feast seem total stretch itself into an eternity, with each new dish brought forward, each cheer to the couple more grating to your ears than the other. Feyd Rautha seems to sense your absentmindedness as he touches your lower back, startling you. A laughter roars through the halls as he presses his lips hungrily on yours his tongue in your mouth and his grip on your back. You feel the eyes of the guests in you and cannot believe that this is actually something that is happening to you. Such a display of attraction is not something you are used to seeing and even less experiencing. When he finally lets you go, your face is red and flustered and with him leaving into your ear, your hands try to hold him at a distance.

„None of that now, dear Na Baroness“ his voice sweet and low, as sweet as the snakes gaze at the rabbit it is about to devour. „You are mine now, remember“. You tremble at him addressing you with your new title, another piece of the puzzle setting into the new reality you are facing. Two handmaidens appear at your side and you are gestured to leave the halls. The cheering gets even louder and from the corner of your eye, you say Jessica raising an eyebrow at the Duke, who try to remain graceful and stoic through the ordeal.

Instead of your rooms, you are brought to the east wing. The chamber's candles mirror the grand hall, a subtle echo of their grandeur. The handmaidens leave out a nightgown for you, a whisper of black silk and lace and run a bath, fragrant with myrrh and pine. Hot water mist rises up from the basin, with tiny droplets lingering on your hair and gown. Just as one of the girls begins to untie the intricate laces of your corset on your back, Feyd Ruth’s voice fills the room.

„What do you think you are doing?“

„We are..“ The girl, clearly afraid bows down and tries to explain herself.

„You are leaving“ he declares and they follow the command at once.

You stay frozen on the spot, the small sounds of the dress beads on the floor retrying your shiver.

He is right behind you, the fabric of his cloak mixing on the floor with yours. His breath is on your neck, intensifying the shivers, which are now infused with anticipation.

His hands resume the handmaiden's works, unrevealing the masterfully woven ties until your back is exposed to him, your dress holding on to the sure edges of your shoulders. He lets his nails glide along your spine, leaving tiny red lines on your sensitive skin. When his fingers leave your skin you feel a twinge of disappointment, but within a glimpse of a second, they return to push down the dress, as it now gathers on your hips, being held in place by the last pieces of the laces. You feel exposed and try your best to to ver up, as he circles you, with the precision of a vulture hunting down its prey. Whatever restrain he had it seems to fade by a second. His Tonge flicks his lips, as he places one hand on your neck and disposes of the rest of the dress with the other. You are standing now bare infant of him, unable to log away, as his left palm holds your face in a position facing him. His right hand disappears uncerismonuoisly between your thighs, and brushing over your sensitive sport, circling your entrance. „ I am pleased to find you so welcoming“ he smirks, feeling the wetness of your folds. You try to say something in return, but your mind is wiped clean, when his lips are at your neck, sucking at the skin around your collarbones and leaving bruises in their wake while his other hand is still at your core.

He thought about this moment since your first kiss, letting all kinds of scenarios wander before his eyes. The Imagery of you bound to his bed, on your knees in-front of him, your hands behind your back and his hand in your hair. But for now, none of them seem enough to brand you as his. Your readiness however thinly veiled spurs him on and when he is satisfied with the chain of marks on your neck, he continues with your breasts, sucking and biting, which each whine you can hold back making him even more ferocious, The moonlight mixes with the candles, letting you appear like an ethereal creature, with soft curves and redness to the bitten spots, something divine and foreign to him. When your hands find his shoulders, still fully clothed, his voice is full of mischievous glee, like a spider that sensed something juicy got caught in the net.

„ I don’t remember allowing that, my Lady. But it's your first transgression, so see it as a chance to learn.“

A glimmer of fear finds its way into your mind, the memory of his hand cutting a human throat quite fresh on your mind.

„Now be a good girl and turn to the wall. You obey, feeling the relief of the tapestry pressing into your skin, a friction so irritating and delicious you almost cannot stay still.

„You are only getting 5 blows, but you are going to count them loud for my, my Na Baroness“ You sense how eager he is and brace yourself. Yet the pain is so searing on your bottom, ah his hands land flat on it, leaving a screaming red mark immediately that your legs tremble.

“It seems you didn’t count this one, so we have to start again“ Another blow on your butt cheeks lands with an intensity you didn’t expect.

„One..“ You manage to press between your teeth.

„Now that's better“ He almost purrs, a cat satisfied with its cats.

By the time the last blow lands, your are a mess of pain and desire.

You lay on the bed, your mind and body in a haze of desire and angst, as his clothes are disappearing on the floor. Your eyes wander dawn from his abdomen to his groin, where an unmistakable proof of his desire is covered in precum. He notices your reaction.

„It seems like you are ready for me, but you have to prove it to me yet“. He gestures you to get on all fours, your face to him. His thumb runs along your already swollen lips, and he nudges then apart. He fills your mouth, while clawing at your har, and when you look up to him, the blue in his eye is almost gone. His thrust are hard and fast, a gagging sounds that seem to please him and just as he settles into a ferocious rhythm. But just as you think his peak is nearly there, he stops and you see how a human in him disappeared and a relentless beast has emerged. He scoops you up and oxeye you are place with your back on the silken sheets, he aligns himself with your entrance.

„All mine“ he growls and enters you in one motion. As much as you anticipated this moment, you feel utterly unprepared by being filled out like this. He doesn’t pause and takes up the pace from before. You close your eyes and another orgasm makes you scream his name like a drowning person screaming for help. His Whole body is towering over you, a marble statue that came alive. The veins on his forearms becoming more prominent, his breathing ragged and shallow. To see him unravel spurs you on even further and your nails find his shoulders and back again, gliding down to his butt, revealing red stripes on the marble in their wake.You feel your whole being clinging onto him and his own peak follows closely. You feel his warmth filling you, his last pumps weakening, as hi almost collapses onto you. None of you is able to speak. There is a tiny trickle of sweat between his shoulder blades and along cheek bon, With an inexplicable urgency you flick out your tongue and lick it up from his face. With some of the icy flu of his eyes returning, he regards you with a satisfied smirk. „Please rest assured, that I am not done with you yet, my lady“.

___

@moonsoulk @aoi-targaryen

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha imagine #dune part ii #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd smut #dune movie #arranged marriage #shameless smut #paul atreides

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Note

Teasing the hell out of Charles Brandon or Henry Cavill to the point they make the reader pay😘❤️

I picked Charles Brandon because The Tudors was a whole thing for me, like I fell in love with the entire cast but also with Henry’s delicious ass. I remember the first time I saw it onscreen and just about passed out. Hims got cakes! And Charles had redeeming qualities so it was sort of easy to forgive him for being a dick. Anyways, here’s a shameless piece of smut!!

Title: Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Fandom: The Tudors

Summary: This is a prompt fill for @thereisa8ella who wanted some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over. Enjoy!

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), fingerfucking (f receiving), cock worship, orgasm denial (m receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, ball handling, choking, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist

You awake to sunlight streaming in through the open curtains, a heavy weight across your middle, and soft snores rumbling in your ear. The musky odor of sex still lingers in the air and its heady scent goes right to your core. Shifting to your other side, you come face to face with a still-sleeping Charles Brandon.

This man was a god, how else could he be explained? That chiseled jaw, sinister smile, eyes like the ocean…and that’s just his perfect face. Below the neck, he was just as exquisite. Abdominals like sculpted marble, legs like strong tree trunks, and a cock like a third arm. Yes, he deserves to be worshipped. But you deserve your fun too.

You press on Charles’ shoulder to get him to lie on his back, waiting until his snores return. You shift down the bedding so it just comes to his thighs and marvel at this man’s body once again. You inch closer to him, throwing a leg over his chest so your face hovers over his groin.

You lean down and kiss his hips, snaking your tongue out to taste his freckles. Using your tongue, you draw a line down his Adonis belt to where it meets his cock. You place sweet kisses along the shaft and that stirs the Duke of Suffolk. He only moves his hips slightly and groans at first, but as you take him into your mouth, he fully awakes.

“What a beautiful view, who knew the sun rose at the same time as the moon?” He punctuates his sentence with a solid grip on both your asscheeks.

Letting his hardening cock slip from your mouth, you wiggle your hips in his face. He gets the hint soon enough, his deft fingers finding your folds and getting to work. You suck him down again and his digits slip inside. Your moans guide his ministrations, his grunts and thrusts highlighting that you have him right where you want him.

You ride Charles’ fingers until you feel the familiar break in your resolve, walls fluttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. You pause in your worship of Charles’ cock but with some incentive of his hand pushing on the back of your head, you get back to work. It’s then when you get the idea to edge him, something you’ve never done with him. First time for everything, right?

You take him to the hilt, your rose brushing his hairy sac, inhaling his musk. You swallow around him in your throat while playing with his balls, all while starting to ride his fingers again. You roll his balls between your fingers, moaning around his girth to elicit vibrations. When you feel the telltale ripple in the shaft, you pull off and squeeze his base. His orgasm is effectively ruined, and he can barely move as you cum again around his fingers.

You: 2. Charles: 0.

You’re coming down from your high as Charles is landing a sharp slap to your swollen and sensitive clit. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” You don’t have time to catch yourself as he throws you across the bed and slots himself between your thighs. Charles places his hands under each knee and pushes your legs into your chest, opening you fully for his enjoyment. He’s hard enough to enter you in one swift motion, your slippery folds welcoming him into their tight heat. “Trying to tease me, were you, love?”

“I don’t…know what…you mean,” Your words are cut off by deep and sure thrusts, your inner walls thoroughly stimulated.

“Where did my good girl go? Who is this temptress who denies me her warmth?” His pupils dilated, and he looks like a feral beast, wanting to claim his prize.

“Still…here,” You moan, failing to convince him of your innocence.

“No, she’s not here,” He wraps a hand around your neck and leans down to whisper into your ear, “You’re doing so well taking my cock, but I want to try something new. And you, my little spunk dump, are gonna take it.” He leans up and kisses the tip of your nose before tightening his grip on your neck and pounding into you until your combined grunts and wet slaps of skin are all there is to hear.

He holds your gaze, even when your eyes start to lose focus. He lets go of your neck as his hips stutter in their rhythm. You gasp for air as another orgasm rocks through you. Charles follows soon after, painting your walls with his heavy spend. He collapses on your chest without pulling out, your panting breaths the only sound in the room.

He leans back to look at you, utterly spent and exhausted. He pulls himself out of you slowly, watching his load leak out of you. He slaps the head of his dick against your sore clit a few times, earning him a satisfying whimper from your lips. He runs a hand between the valley of your breasts and leans up to kiss you and nuzzle your nose.

“Am I still your good girl?” You plead, not fully wanting to forget you got the upper hand on Charles.

“Hmmmm,” He draws it out, making it seem like he is thinking hard on the matter before chucking at your pout, “Of course you are! You will be my good girl forever, don’t you worry that pretty little head.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” You breathed, feeling satisfied and happy with how you spent your morning.

A/N: First time writing for Charles Brandon, he is fun to tease! Hope you enjoyed it!

**Tag List**

@enchantedbytomandhenry

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁

#charles brandon #the tudors #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #ask reply #charles brandon x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x you smut #charles brandon x you #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn prompt fill

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millylotus · 1 year

Text

I See All of You & You Are Magnificent

Monster x Monster

When Duke and Danny first met they could see through eachothers glamor and were immediately taken by each other's true form. Both of their forms are inconceivable to most people, and they both have a deep want to be known and loved for their true selves.

Duke’s form is very bright, the light he generates is blinding, under it he is like a bird, the Grey Crowned Crane to be specific. But he doesn’t really look like one, kind of like those angels with a bunch of eyes and wings, he’s got a bird neck/head and a pair of his wings are connected to his arms like bat wings. The golden rings of eyes are around his head, torso and legs. He’s got a giant pair of wings on his back and a set on his heels. His bird head and his human head exist at the same time kinda like those holographic drawings where you see it depending on how you look at it.

Danny is kinda like a black hole he produces no light but a slight rim of light going into him. Under all of that he’s got long thin and sharp limbs. His suit looks like it’s just a pattern on his skin, and the symbol has kinda faded away. He's got these big antlers on his head and his mouth is filled with fangs, to the point where it doesn’t seem like he should be able to close his mouth. His hands are sharp and slaw like, and his eyes blink sideways. His tongue is uncomfortably long.

They both look disturbingly uncanny without their glamorous, and some of their true form traits can peek through. Like Duke’s extra eyes being able to see the future are visible over where the rings would be. Or Danny’s fangs and claws accidentally ripping into things.

DUKE

No you don’t understand he sees me and I can see him and he’s perfect. I’m not all that human and I’ve never been and when Danny looks at me he doesn’t just see some random human boy he sees me. He sees the blinding light of my existence and he can perceive me and he loves me. And I love him, in all his eldritch horror he is perfect to me and I love him. Because he’s him and he understands me to my core. I love him.

DANNY

It’s just- he just gets me. He can see me for me and he always has. And Jazz the first time Duke looked at me he seemed so enamored by me, so taken by me, and he saw me for me every time he saw me. He wants me even though I’m an ugly and horrific being. And I love him even though he deserves so much more than me. He is so bright and beautiful and he is the sun and I love him.

When Gnomon and Duke first fought the light bomb went off and the glamor that Elaine had put over Duke was forcefully removed by the explosion. Bruce and Duke were terrified and Gnomon took his chance to make a deal with Duke. Duke comes to the archives with him and learns how to make his own glamor and adapt to his true form.

Duke is able to convince him to just bring the proper information to Gotham so he doesn’t have to leave. Bruce offores up Wayne Manor as a place where Duke could learn.

It takes a couple of months and Gnomon gets a bit of a redemption arc in that time, but he is unable to properly heal Elaine and Doug.

Now Duke can make his own glamor and knows some things about Gnomon’s side of the family. He’s gone back to living a relatively normal life if you don’t count the vigilante and ethereal being stuff.

Duke being born of an archivist and being of light is kind of weird. He speaks/writes all languages and knows far too much. While also being able to manipulate light and the lack of light, along with seeing where all light was/is/will be. Combined those last two abilities give him future visions, which are underdeveloped because of his age and inexperience.

The Batfam’s reaction to Duke not being a regular meta and actually being a high caliber ethereal being was better than it could have been. They all had already gotten close to Duke and were accepting of his weaker powers, but the knowledge that Duke was so much more than they could ever be was daunting.

Duke was scared that they may never want him back, Cass was the first to notice Duke shrinking into himself and she quickly made sure the others knew how their less than stellar reactions. They all go out of their way to make sure Duke knows he’s loved even though he’s different. Duke really appreciates their new attitude.

When Duke is feeding into his archivist habits he spends his time in the Wayne Library, letting some of his inhuman traits come through.

Duke keeps going to Middletown South with Izzy, Troy, Dre & Riko, and lives between his cousin Jay’s home and Wayne Manor.

---

As Danny gets older as a ghost his ghostly form becomes more and eldritch, he’s been instinctively making a secondary glamor to go over his ghostly form so nobody goes mad because of it. When he defeats Pariah, Clockwork and Frostbite take him aside and explain that his true form needs to start dropping the glamor more and learn how to take care of himself in that aspect.

So Danny spends the rest of Sophomore year figuring out himself and what it means to be him, as both a person and a ghost. Over this time he sets up some truces with the other ghosts so he doesn't have to stress every second.

Before Danny’s Junior year the Fenton parents decided to move to Gotham because of all the spooky shit that happens over there. Jazz is already living there for college and even though Danny is against it they end up dragging him to Jersey.

Danny is enrolled in Middletown South, which is thankfully similar enough to Casper High that Danny doesn’t have too much of a culture shock.

DUKE

I’d noticed a sort of void that whole day really, I hadn’t thought much of them until they started looking my way.

And when I took a peak at them and saw them for their truth, I could barely even breath.

He’s magnificent, gorgeous, in an eldritch way that just fits him. His antlers were bigger than the regular kid, spiraling out of control. His claws are so sharp I swear they could cut through space itself.

And he was looking at me, he saw me.

DANNY

It was like seeing a bright light right on your peripherals. I just had to look over, see what I couldn’t quite see.

He was so painfully bright I had to blink a couple dozen times before I could see him properly.

He’s magnificent, wonderful, ethereal even. His largest wings seemed to lay all around him, his eyes glancing this way and that way.

Until they settled on me and saw me.

Duke and Danny first say to each other on the first day of school, second period math class. They’d both been able to feel each other's presence, but neither went out of their way to really look at each other until then.

Danny was the first to take a peak, what with Duke being a literal beacon of light he wasn’t easy to ignore. Duke saw him second, noticing the staring and truly focused on Danny and saw him. They both fell for each other right then and there.

Neither really realized the whole love thing and just wanted to get to know each other. Duke ends up inviting Danny to come and sit with him and his friends for lunch. Izzy, and Dre catch on quickly to Duke’s semi crush on Danny, and get Troy and Riko in on the whole setting the two up. They exchanged numbers and Danny agrees to meet with them again tomorrow. Btws Dax goes to another school.

When the Fentons moved to Gotham they did so to try and learn more about the Gotham specific ghosts they think exist there. They ended up choosing Crime Alley “Park Row” as a place to stay in because of the higher levels of ectoplasm and the Red Hood being known to be kinda ghostly. Jack and Maddie spend most of the first month they’re in Gotham setting up shop in the basement of the building they’ve moved into.

Jazz and Danny are basically living out of Jazz’s dorm at Gotham University. Jazz’s roommate hasn’t moved in yet so the two get the place to themselves. Danny doesn’t want to listen to their parents prepare for their ghost hunting bullshit. And Jazz would much rather have her brother around instead of being alone for the two weeks before college.

Danny isn’t doing the whole Phantom thing anymore cause 1) isn't really needed with all the heroes in Gotham, 1.5) he doesn’t want to encroach on the bat’s terf, 2) he really needs this break, and 3) it’s better if his parents assume Phantom didn’t follow them all the way to Jersey.

Jack and Maddie do stake outs after they’re ready, at this point it’s a week into the school year. They pick up a very weak ectoplasmic signature from Jason, but he’s similar to Vlad in intensity so they aren’t sure if he’s dead or if he got infected by some pure ectoplasm. They run after him at one point, but then Jason shoots at them with very real guns and they decide to just back off for now.

As the weeks go by Danny gets closer to the WR group, he and Riko have third and fourth period, Izzy and him share sixth period with Duke, and Troy and Dre have first period together with Danny. Danny doesn’t really talk much about his family besides his sister going to GU and his parents deciding to move to Gotham as well because it had better opportunities for their work.

One day after school, when Danny’s walking to Jazz’s place, Danny almost gets mugged and Duke comes down and saves him. They recognize each other on sight and just kinda stare, before Danny says something stupid like, “I knew you were an angel the moment I saw you, just didn’t think you’d be the guardian type.” Then Duke laughs and says something equally dumb like, “Well the most lovely of beings always deserve a guardian angel don’t they?”

Of course then Danny has to swear he’ll keep the whole Duke is Signal thing. This is when the two start actually flirting with each other, and like falling for eachother.

After their retreat from Red Hood, the Fentons decide to go after a new vigilante, Black Bat. Because obviously if nobody can ever sense, hear, or really see them, then they have to be a ghost.

Cass being Cass is basically impossible to track, but she has enough ectoplasm in her system that they get small pings from her. Eventually Maddie and Jack corner Cass, she mainly lets them do so out of curiosity. They tried to attack or pin her down, but Cass just led them on a wild goose chase across Gotham.

They lose her, and end up just deciding to head back home, it’s dawn and Signal is still out on the town. Jack and Maddie get a weird alert, and follow it to him. They see Signal using his powers a little. Because Duke isn’t really a ghost he ticks off the Fentons’ general supernatural being detector. Now the Fentons have someone else to hunt down.

Duke isn’t a ghost or ectoplasmic being, he’s more of a different thing. A hybrid between the Ichor Beings of Light[Gnomon], and the Archivists[Elaine] who are a branch species from the Ichor Beings. Elaine was an Archivist of Light before she gave up that power running away from Gnomon. So the Fenton tech doesn’t affect him.

Jason was the first to mention the Fentons hunting him down, Cass said later that they had started tailing her, and when they actually kept up with her the rest of the family got a tad curious. Then a month in the school year they shot at Signal in broad daylight. Now everybody is worried, the shot didn’t do much besides push Duke back, kinda like a bb gun.

Duke immediately up and dipped because he was not about to deal with that, but tagged the Fentons with a tracker/bug to find out who they are. Duke does some digging into the Fentons with Cass and Jason, when they find out about Danny and Jazz, Duke is stunned, scared a little even.

Duke ends up telling the rest of the Batfam about Danny and that he knows about the whole Duke is Signal thing. Of course they all can tell that Duke is crushing hard on the eldritch son of two mad scientists. Bruce’s first reaction is holy shit please god why. Because all his children end up with people that he knows probably aren't the best idea. Cass asks him if Danny can come over for a visit [interrogation]. Duke agrees to ask Danny to come round, but as long as the bats promise not to overwhelm him.

Because the W Robins already know about the whole bat thing it's just Danny who's kind of out of the loop.

At this point Duke and Danny kinda got a situationship going on, they're not really dating but they're kinda also flirting with each other. It's basically a matter of time until they get together at this point, so getting Danny to agree to come over to Wayne manor was relatively easy.

The next day over the phone Duke tells Danny that his parents shot at him while Duke was Signal, and Danny is so embarrassed and concerned. He apologizes for his parents and what they did. Duke convinces Danny to come over to his foster family's place, the batfamily, so they could talk about it more, and what the colony could do to prevent the Fentons from becoming a problem.

Danny agrees to come over, the next day around dawn near the end of Signal’s patrol, Duke takes his bike and goes to pick up Danny and drive him to the batcave through the underground tunnels.

Danny spends the first few minutes in the batcave just ogling all the new things, then the bats go out of their way to scare the shit out of him before they get the meeting underway.

Danny explains that his parents came to Gotham to investigate the ectoplasm levels and the stories about the bats being inhuman. They went after Red Hood and Black Bat because they have enough levels of ectoplasm to be traced with Fenton tech.

After Danny agrees to help them bypass the sensors, Bruce asks about Danny’s own inhuman nature he gets a bit clammy about it, but explains that he was basically conceived, born and raised in a home with high levels of ectoplasm floating around, it just took one accident to really strip him of his humanity fully.

Duke drives Danny home a little after that, they end up talking outside Jazz’s dorm building, a minor confession occurs but they’re both stupid and don’t realize what happened. Jazz immediately teases Danny about him hanging out with Signal, Danny denies that anything is happening between them.

Okay so Duke and Danny, when they first meet each other it was more in the sense of “Wow they are so cool and pretty I wanna be their friend”. Then when they meet as Signal and Danny it’s kinda like “Holy heck did not know you were so beautiful/hot”. Now they’re kinda flirty with each other, but neither think that the other actually likes them.

So it’s this dumb will they won't they kinda think, and everyone around them is so done with them about it.

DEADLIGHTS MASTERPOST, GENERAL NOTES, MEMES, AO3

#millywrites #dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #danny x duke #duke x danny #danny fenton #duke thomas #dc #batman #signal #the signal #danny phantom #crossover #crossover ship #eldritch danny #ethereal duke

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that1emowitch · 2 months

Text

At the end of the world / Or the last thing I see / You are never coming home, never coming home

Prompt from @tuna-f-b: Do you still do request? If yes and angst is o.k: what would happend i all the bats died? Like how would the hero community react. The supers alone. Clark having to deal with losing his best friend(?) and the kids he basically co parented- as well as seeing his sons lose their best friends(?) Specially as ships that would be awesome angst

A/N: I'm not crying you're crying (Also, for those who don't know, Izzy is Duke's canon gf and one of the Robins from We Are Robin)

Words: 2504

TW: Mentions of blood, Major character death, Coping with loss, Self-blame, Mentions of relapse (drugs)

“If you’re watching this, I am either deceased or indefinitely unable to continue my duties as Batman. But the world still needs Batman. Gotham still needs Batman. My son Damian Wayne, if he is an adult, shall inherit my mantle— if not, Dick Grayson will take over until he is. In the event that he, too, is unavailable for any reason, the mantle goes to Tim Drake, after him, to Cassandra Cain, then Duke Thomas, then Stephanie Brown, then Jason Todd, should he accept it.”

In the video recording, Batman pauses, taking a deep breath.

“In the unfortunate event that the entire family is… deceased… I have a list of contingency plans on both the Bat-Computer and the Justice League’s primary databases. Oracle will help you access it, but in her… absence… the password is “a6ghr83kc02m”.”

Then video-Bruce takes off the cowl, his pale blue eyes looking straight into the camera.

“I know I was never the best with feelings. But I would like my children, my allies, and friends to know that I’m proud of you. And to my fellow Justice Leaguers… Diana and Clark, I am truly grateful for your companionship. I would never have made it this far without you. Barry, Arthur, Dinah, J’onn, you’ve all been good friends. Oliver, Hal… you’re not so bad either.”

Bruce turns around, and looks over his shoulder, the shadows of the Batcave making the scene even more dramatic.

“I wish you good luck.”

Then the clip ends.

A shuddering breath leaves Clark.

It’s real.

He’s really… They’re all…

He can’t do this anymore. He turns around and walks out the door, leaving the other core Justice Leaguers staring sombrely at the now-blank screen.

He doesn’t know when he started flying, when he started trying to escape. The walls of the Watchtower seem to be suffocating him, but he has enough sense not to just leave the airlock yet.

Instead he finds a corner by a window, far, far away from the others, where he can see a majestic view of Earth, the moon, and the Sun in perfect sync with each other.

He falls to his knees.

His breathing’s uneven, a tear rolls down his cheeks.

Then he feels a hand on his shoulder— soft, trembling, yet steady.

“Kal,” Diana whispers, sitting on the floor next to him. She doesn’t continue— she isn’t sure what to say.

“They’re all going to die, you know? We’re going to bury all of them. Everyone on Earth, everyone we know.” Clark’s voice trembles, in a way Superman’s never does. “It scares me so much.”

“Kal,” Diana says again, pulling Clark into a hug. “It’s okay. We’ve lost… We’ve lost so many of our friends. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to grieve.”

“How are you— how are you so—” Clark can’t form his words properly. He turns to Diana, to see her face tight with grief, eyes misty with unshed tears.

Her voice breaks slightly as she speaks. “I don’t want to believe they’re gone. But… we have to carry on. We’re the Justice League. Our people need us, Kal.”

“So we just go on and on? Forever?” Another tear runs down his cheek. “Ollie, Hal, Dinah, Lois, Jon, they’re all going to… they’re all going to die one day and we just have to… to go on?”

“I’m sorry, but it is the truth,” Diana whispers, her eyes stinging with hot tears. “We must find peace in the fact, right now, that Batman— Bruce, the Robins, they— they were so brave. Brave till the end. And they fell as warriors, defending our world. I’m sure they’ll all reach Elysium.”

“And Dickie, Damian, Jason, Tim, Cass, Duke—” Clark’s voice is hoarse. “They were so young, just kids… I… I know Dick, Jay, Tim, Cass… they were adults, but… they’re gone, they’re gone…”

“They were heroes, like you and me. Don’t forget that.”

“I… I know, I just—” Another shuddering breath escapes Clark. “I just— I…”

“It’s okay,” Her voice is forcefully steady, but with an undertone of heartbreak. “It’s okay…”

Dinah looks around the room, her heart heavy.

Clark has left, Diana’s gone after him— both of them need their space, she knows. They were close to Bruce and the other Bats in a way no one else in this room was.

Was.

The word still weighs down on her.

Hal speaks up finally, breaking the deafening silence. “I always thought he hated me.”

No one replies for a long moment.

“I miss the kids,” Barry says finally, his voice quiet. “They were just… Robin was only 14. The others, even Nightwing, they had… they had their whole lives ahead of them.”

More silence.

“Jason, when he was Robin— do y'all remember? Kid was always my favorite,” Ollie says finally. “Was always so sassy. Roy loves him.”

Loves. Dinah winces, but doesn’t correct him. It’s easier to believe they’re just gone for a little while.

“Bruce was a good man,” Arthur adds. “They all were.”

“Tim was, I believe, the smartest,” J’onn says, somber. “It was his plan that allowed us to save Earth.”

“Damian!” Dinah says suddenly, jumping from her seat. “His… his mother. She shouldn’t have to find out from someone else.”

Everyone freezes, faces tight.

Dinah sighs, looking down. “I’ll do it.”

Then she leaves the room, dragging what feels like a heavy weight tied to her soul. She has to do this.

Roy’s sitting in a corner of his apartment, hugging his knees. All he can think of is Jason.

He’s never coming back.

He can still feel the lingering ‘goodbye’ kiss Jason gave him not two days ago, he can still hear him say, “I’ll be back before you know it, babe.”

He never came back.

He’s dead. Dead— dead dead dead DEAD DEAD—

“Small Red not okay?” A booming voice snaps Roy out of his thoughts. He looks up to see Bizarro’s pale blue skin and cold eyes looming over him. He’s crying. “Red him coming back.”

It takes Roy a second to register that Bizarro speaks backwards. It takes everything in him to not punch him for saying that, for giving him false hope.

He feels something he hasn’t felt in years— feels that whisper in his mind— one hit and it’ll all feel better. Just one hit.

NO! He screams mentally. He feels like bashing his head open.

Instead he lifts his dead eyes to survey the rest of the room— Kori’s on the couch, staring into space. Artemis has a crying Lian in her arms, she’s showing her something— old photos of Jason. Talking, whispering in a broken voice.

No, no he should be the one comforting Lian—

What’s he gonna say?

That— That Jason— That her Papa’s gone forever? That he’s never— he’s never coming back?

No— Jay— Jay deserved so much better, he— he already died once before, he’s been through so much, things were supposed to be better now— not— no, he’s—

Roy feels Bizarro sit beside him, gently patting his arm.

He snaps out of his thoughts again, turning to Jason’s former teammate, his eyes red-rimmed. His voice raw, he whispers, “Jay’s gone…”

Wally’s standing in the Hall of Heroes, staring up at the holographic projection of Dick— he looks so majestic, so mighty, staring ahead with nothing but hope and courage in his eyes.

Nothing like the cold, dead body that Wally held in his arms just two days ago.

He’s surrounded by his teammates, his friends— Kaldur, M’gann, Artemis, Zatanna, L’gann, Garth— yet he feels so alone.

He sees it again— Dick bleeding out it his arms, his wounds so fatal he died before help arrived. Wally’s the fastest man alive, damn it, yet he couldn’t even save his best friend— his boyfriend. He feels the moment when Dick’s breathing stopped, when his body went limp, when his grip on Wally’s hand loosened.

Everyone’s quiet. M’gann’s stress baking again, L’gann by her side. Artemis and Zatanna are sitting together, Garth’s lingering in a corner, and Kaldur’s standing right beside Wally— close enough for comfort but not so close he’s lurking. He’s shaking.

He can still hear it, hear Dick forcing out his last words, telling Wally it’s okay, that he loves him, that it’ll be fine.

It’s not fine. Not without you.

He wants to scream.

He wants to cry, yell, hit something, do anything.

But he can’t move.

So he just stands there, almost as still as the holographic projection of Dick before him.

Kon is left reeling.

Tim… Tim is…

Tim’s dead.

Tim’s really gone.

He thinks, for just a second, that this is how Tim and Cassie must have felt when he and Bart “died”.

Bart is sitting beside him on the couch, leaning on his side, Cassie’s got her head on his lap. Neither of them speak— Bart’s not even fidgeting— they’re all just trying to be there for each other.

The other Titans are up and about, but staying close for comfort. Jaime and Gar are making food for everyone in the kitchen, Raven and Vic have come back to the tower to make sure the others are okay, and he’s sure Karen’s around too, somewhere.

Yet he feels so empty.

Feels nothing at all.

How can he, when his best friend is dead?

Jon hasn’t spoken in a bit. Not when his Mom brought him his favorite soup, not when Grandma and Grandpa showed up to ‘help’ him and Dad through this, not when Krypto plopped down beside him to comfort him.

He hugs the dog close.

Krypto’s technically Kon’s, but Jon’s sure Kon wouldn’t mind if he stole Krypto for a day.

Another sob escapes him, and he buries his head in Krypto’s back. The dog whines, licking Jon’s hand.

He can’t believe Damian’s gone.

Really gone.

And he didn’t know just how much he would miss his friend.

Dinah finds Talia Al Ghul on a building in Metropolis, overlooking the city. Her face is tight with sorrow, but she keeps herself in check, her back straight, head held high.

She already knows, Dinah deduces.

“I… I’m sorry,” Dinah starts, unsure of what to say. She knows, from her experience as a psychologist, that ‘sorry’ is the last thing a grieving person wants to hear, but she doesn’t have anything else to say.

Talia doesn’t reply for a long time. Then she says, her voice numb, “I should have known, when bringing Damian into this life, that I would also be bringing him amidst the dangers that come with.”

Dinah’s brows furrow. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything at all.”

“I should have trained him better, I should have kept him close, I should—” Talia takes a shuddering breath. “I should have never brought him into this life.”

Dinah can’t argue with that— she knows how Damian had come to be, and it… wasn’t the best birth ever.

“Now leave, hero,” Talia says, her voice numb and cold. “Go back to protecting the world. Leave me be.”

Dinah wants to say something better, comfort the woman, but she can’t. So she just turns back, and leaves.

By the time Harper Row makes her way to the Clock Tower, there’s already quite a crowd there— Kate, Renee Montoya, Harley, Ivy, Silena, and Helena Bertinili— they’re crowding around Babs, comforting her. Luke Fox and Isabella Ortiz are at the computer, looking through something.

Harper tries to open her mouth to speak, but she can’t get the words out.

She makes her way over to Luke and Izzy, shoulders hunched.

Just three days ago she’d been hanging out with Duke and Izzy and Cass and Steph— they’d all been so carefree, so happy…

And now…

Once she gets close enough she realizes Izzy’s crying, and immediately wraps her arms around the shorter girl. Harper’s trying to hold back tears of her own, too. She feels Luke putting a hesitant hand on her shoulder, squeezing tight.

No one speaks for a long time, they just stand together, seeking comfort in each other.

Then Babs rolls her wheelchair to the center of the room, wiping at her bloodshot eyes. But when she speaks, she sounds surprisingly steady. She’s compartmentalizing, Harper realizes. Putting away Barbara and bringing Oracle back.

“Gotham needs her heroes, now more than ever,” Oracle says, head held high. “We must honor our friends by doing the one thing they’d have wanted— to keep fighting. Keep Gotham safe.”

She sighs, her face tight to fight away tears. “Luke. Batman’s contingency plan, in the Robins’ absence, was to pass you the mantle of Batman. Do you accept?”

Luke’s eyes grow wide slightly, but he straightens himself, looking away. “I… I accept. Dad isn’t going to be happy, but… Gotham needs Batman.”

“Thank you.” Oracle nods at him. “As per Bruce’s will, all Wayne assets, the Manor, and the Batcave are split between Kate, me, Alfred, and Lucius. I… Lucius and I are still figuring out who’s going to take over Wayne Enterprises, but on the vigilante side, I’ve got a plan.”

She turns to Ivy, Harley, Kate, Silena and Helena. “The Birds of Prey are needed here, now more than ever. Dinah— Black canary has offered to help us with Gotham, too.”

Harley nods, sniffling. Beside her, Ivy speaks up, “The… Most Rogues aren’t happy about this. They’re not rampaging— Bane has fashioned his own version of the Batsuit, he’s going around ‘saving’ people, screaming that Batman never dies. The Joker’s searching for Lazarus Pits and Bruce’s body. Jervis Tetch and Nygma held a get-together yesterday, in the memory of the Bats. I… I think they might help us.”

Harper’s gotta admit, she’s quite surprised about this. Even Babs freezes, taking in this information.

“Gotham needs Robin as much as she needs Batman,” Izzy speaks up from beside her, her voice small but firm. “The Robins can come back, this time you can give us formal training so we can actually help.”

Oracle turns to Luke. “Taking on Robins is your decision, Batman.”

Luke winces at that title— it doesn’t feel like an honor to him, it just feels like an incessant reminder that he’s the last one left. Because his friends are dead. But he nods, anyway, not trusting himself to speak right now.

Then Oracle addresses Harper. “I… would you like to be Batgirl?”

Harper’s heart stops. Memories flash into her head— seeing Steph in the Batgirl costume, seeing Cass in the Batgirl suit, both of whom are now gone.

“N— No,” Harper stutters out, eyes tearful. “I can’t— I’m sorry, Babs. I appreciate the offer, but… Cass was Batgirl. I can’t take her place.”

“I understand.” Babs just nods, lips pursed, misty-eyed. “We will all need to work hand-in-hand until everything settles, we will need to be vigilant. Carry on Batman’s legacy, for as long as we may need to.”

No one speaks again.

They all just let it sink in, hearts heavy.

They’re going to have to do this alone now.

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yelesomeblue · 23 days

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Finally part 5 of Fazbear "wins" but not really.

Here we go based in @sinclairmaxwellao3 "Lambs and Slaughters" mafia au fanfiction

After using magic to rip Fazbear off of Moon, Kill Code showed no mercy in using a few binding spells to pin the bear to the wall and with a clenched fist and a sharp yanking motion ripped the robotic Bear's core from his chest. He watched with cold clinical eyes as the life slowly faded from the sick bastard's eyes. Kill Code quickly turned his attention to his trembling moonlight. He snapped the golden chains tying up Moon's arms and broke the ones connecting his ankles then scooped him up into his arms holding him close. Moon's form quaked and shook in the larger animatronic's arms as he sobbed silently, the only sounds being his vents roaring as they worked overtime to cool him down.

The Bloodmoon twins launched themselves toward Moonrise and Sun. The twin with the star hat slammed into Moonrise with all the force of a semi truck while the twin with the striped hat snatched up Sun before he could fall and hit the ground. The star twin proceeded to duke it out with Moonrise, he ripped off half of Moonrise's right arm, slash his side with his claws, and he's pretty sure he dislocated one of his knees. Moonrise wasn't about to go down easy and managed to stab the star twin in the eye. The twin screamed in pain and rage and plunged his hands into Moonrise's chest and started ripping out whatever he could grab.

Sun flinched hard when the twin screamed and let out soft wheezing sobs. The striped twin held him closer tucking his head under his chin and whispering soothing words though he glanced to his twin in concern but found he had already finished and was walking back over to them.

"We're leaving," Kill Code commanded walking out the ruined doorway with Moon cradled in his arms. The twins followed right behind carrying their own precious cargo. Eclipse and Ruin fell into step with their family as they left this godforsaken building A message was sent for the repair bay to be prepped.

(Got a little bit carried away bit here y'all go, hope y'all enjoyed this little thing my mind dreamt up)

#fanart #mafia au #sinclairmaxwellao3 #sun and moon show #lambs&slaughters #bloodmoon x sun #kill code x moon #eclipse x ruin

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sunny-mercya · 9 months

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Feverish Dance

Edmund Pevensie x Male Reader

Masterlist

On your voyage to find Aslan again and help Caspian dethroning his Uncle and bringing peace to Narnia—freeing the land from Miraz clutches—you had come across an abandoned Castle. By the looks of the size from it, it probably has once belonged to an Earl or Duke. Now for the time being, how ever long this will be and take. this would be your new provisional home.

Susan, Lucy and you ventured through another section of the castle. Long empty hallways and corridors, forgotten and dusty. Most of the rooms had been barricaded or locked, making it hard to find a open one—a one for use.

When sunset had begun every so slowly, dunking the lands with an orange hue—kissing it good night—you three had found another room, which was unlocked. A ballroom, a grand one—where all dreams of the nights could come true—once a magnificent place, but now filled with cobwebs lingering over the furniture with it's muddy, decaying and damp spots. Signs of being not used over the centuries, decades perhaps even.

«Imagine all the grand grandiose banquets which had been held in here!» mused Lucy with excitement out, skipping further into room and touching one of the silk like robes—now shredded with holes in it by moths—and swings it around with a twirl.

«Don't touch too much in here Lu, you might could get sick.»

«Oh Susan, where would all the fun be, when we don't and risk a bit,»

You snickered a bit at Lucy's reply. Deciding to explore the room like her too. You had to agree with Lucy, this ballroom here had probably witness a endless festival night after night, when the castle—perhaps even the years itself—had been in its glory.

~~~

The last bit of Sun-rays peeked through the cloud filled sky, through the windows and into the room. The natural light was still enough to see without any extra light source, though Susan had already begun to lit up some torches.

Despite your excitement, your adventurous rush of curiosity you had—while rummaging through the chests and the mostly covered furniture, getting more than once off track distracted by Lucy—who started at one point to play pretend, telling possible stories of how festive the nights in here could've been—you felt a constant pull of exhaustion tugging at your body.

Like a demanding child the exhaustion keeps tugging at you and bringing your body into a sluggish waving. Feeling heavy with muscles aching, ready to take a nap everywhere and anywhere even when it would be on the hard ground.

A lingering feeling, one of the kinds you couldn't describe, deep down in the core—the far back—of your body and mind, like a minimal headache—which pounds on your skull as if it was a door and till it feels like your skull would crack apart, splitting into two like bread but with crunch to it.

Lucy watches you with concern, once you stopped in your tracks with whatever you were about to do. Standing completely still like a statue, looking off into empty spaces.

Your complexion, perhaps it was because of the torchlights flickering flames and the last few sun ray's, looked more pale—ashen even—than it should be. The way you rubbed over your face, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes, were clear signs for Lucy that you weren't feeling all that well at all.

«Are you feeling alright [Name]?» Lucy asked with concern, a bit hesitantly. She didn't got a answer right away, not verbal at least. Susan gave her sister a questionable eyebrow raise, not sure herself if she would wait the situation out or get Edmund—preferable, since the two of you has a close connection—and the others.

«I'm fine, Luce. Just a bit of a headache» you mumbled it more, incoherently, than you intended to, but your mouth and tongue felt like cotton.

A groan left your lips, dry they felt now and no amount of licking over them would help it. Goosebumps racked through your body, tingling your spine, as flashes of cold and warmth at the same came over you.

«You should sit down [Nickname],» Lucy feared it might have been the small wound, which you have acquired on the way, being infected now. Though the last time they checked over it, mere hours ago at the crack of dawn, it seemed nothing to worrisome. Trying to persuade you to sit down, to take a break.

Lucy couldn't comprehend the next minutes within. Standing there and the next you twirled and spun her through the room.

«Do you hear this Lucy?»

«No? What do you hear?»

«The music! Oh, Lucy! Those wonderful music, I haven't heard in so long!»

Your eyes brimmed with tears, laughing carefree, having longed to hear such wonderful music and brought your heart into a joyful burst.

Ever since the start of the War, ever since Great Britain is been targeted of German bombing, you weren't able to listen to the music—from a long forgotten decades—you loved so much in so long and at all. A rarity it had been.

Missed to dance to it, as your practices had been cut short to the bare minimum, twirling through the room like there was no tomorrow, to their fast—sometimes slow—uplifting, joyfully—romanticisation, theatrical and deeply sorrow filled—sonority.

Oh, this was Mozart's Alla Turca. Offenbachs Overture to Orpheus next and then, Tchaikovskys Trépak.

You loved them all, loved every single piece.

~~~

When Susan had come to get him, telling him that you weren't feeling well, Edmund hadn't expected it to be like this. He once had read, in one of the history books out of boredom, about the Dance Plague from 1518 and somehow this reminds Edmund of you—your current doing as if you had this ominous mysterious plague caught yourself.

Edmund saw you dance more than once. He knew every single steps of the waltzes and choreographies you had done, had went to every practices, recitals and performance you did. Had been your partner for these every so often.

There were only a few, handful of people—Edmund being one of them—which could keep up with your fast-spacing dashing of dancing—like a lightning you could and would twirl around, jumping high like stars in the night sky and being a hurricane like storm and yet, so gentle and delicately at the same time—and catching you seemed a impossible task.

You had letting go of Lucy, who felt nauseous from so much dancing—even though she loved it as much as you—long ago and she watches you with still presenting amaze, even though she too had been to your practices more than once.

«Ed! Ed! Come and dance with me! Brahms Hungarian Dance had always been one of my favourite» you had taken hold of your boyfriends hands, waltzing with him through the room and getting faster with the passing seconds.

Perhaps you were getting sick, having catch a possible flu. Perhaps it is the nervousness and stress or perhaps, you finally have lost your mind all at once—like one of your distant aunts.

But the music is so wonderful and magnificent. You couldn't stop, wouldn't, even when your muscles were aching so painful and burning like fire.

To dance was like the blood in your veins. Needed to make your body function, to keep you alive.

Then, the above, seemed to tip and darkness crashed over you.

~~~

Edmund daps the sweat from you forehead, keeping your face cool with a cold dunked cloths. A high fever you had, making you squirming uncomfortable on the bed.

In your moments of being wake, you mumbled incoherently gibberish, smiling and telling Edmund about moon and stars before dozing off again.

A relief it was that your wound didn't infected itself, as far as they could tell. So you being current bedridden with a fever was indeed, probably, because of nothing but stress.

Funny, just—in sense of earth time, since Narnia's time goes and pass differently—hours ago you had treated one of Edmunds scraps, which he had gotten during his and Peter's small fight with others boys and now it was him to take care of you.

A groan came over your lips, turning more onto your side, bleary open your eyes and glancing at Edmund.

«Tea Time........noon......Tchaikovsky....»

«Sure love, after some naps»

«....with em...?»

«If you want,»

Edmund laid next to you on the bed, taking you in his arms. For someone with a high fever, you felt icy cold. He pulls you even closer, humming a bit of a tune—one of the nursery ones—hand racking through your hair, ever so softly—like you would do to him, when he has one of his anger bursting days—when you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

«When you feel better,» a kiss to the crown of your hair he gives you,

«we could dance one of those waltzes you like so much, just you and me love» Edmund gave you another kiss, this time on the lips. Closing his eyes and slowly he too, drifts into the world of dreams.

~~~

«Ed's soo smitten with [Nickname], I told you he has a soft spot» snickers Lucy—leaving the part "for him" out and keeping it for herself—quietly closing the door and walking away.

«Luce, they're both are.» corrects Peter, walking with her.

#male reader #x male reader #chronicles of narnia #edmund pevensie #edmund x male reader #edmund pevensie x male reader #oneshot #fluff #malereader #narnia

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leftoverdinosaurbones · 7 months

Text

F!Reader (Dark Urge), Spawn Astarion - NSFW (minors DNI)

[Major Spoilers - Set post BG3]

***

So I finally caved. I would be SO thrilled if you checked it out, either here on Tumblr or here on Archive Of Our Own.

Summary:

After defeating the Netherbrain, you and your companions are trying to carve out a new place in a peaceful Baldur's Gate. You spend your days slowly rebuilding the city, searching (desperately) for a cure to let Astarion walk in the sun, and trying (in vain) to repair your broken relationship with Gale after giving the Crown of Karsus to Raphael. While the worm and the urges are gone from your head, you still grapple with the guilt that wracks your conscious from your past.

But, at least you aren't running towards any insurmountable evil. These are almost normal issues. You might even have time to find a therapist...

Until an old acquaintance summons you with some devastating news.

Chapter 1: How to Move Forward

You stand motionless under the soft, warm rays of the sun. Beams of radiant light caress your face as you feel the gentle heat roll across the fragile skin of your eyelids, flushing your cheeks, and kissing your lips.

As you bask in the sun’s embrace, you are brought back to an early and tender memory, back when you still had your tadpole. It feels like a lifetime ago. A deeper flush spreads across your cheeks as you remember your first time together. It was all different then. We were different then. He was carnal, distant, detached. Though you knew the layers of pain he was swimming through at that time, you couldn’t help but feel a twist deep in your core as you recalled the first time you set eyes on him. All of him. How confident and alluring he was, waiting for you to arrive. He acted surprised, but he knew you’d show up. You’d already been pulled deeper into his web than you’d care to admit at the time - with his honeyed words, stealing glances your way. I mean, you’d just killed a man with a mission to hunt down the vampire spawn - in another lifetime, you might have joined that hunter on that adventure.

Instead, you remember how quickly your heart started to race and the overwhelming rush of your pounding pulse starting to thrum through your chest and in your head. You could hear people speaking, but nothing could outweigh the noise filling your ears. The anxiety and reality of potentially losing Astarion magnified by your urge to draw blood, to turn this man inside out - it was nearly too much to handle…

The sharp pain in your palms brings you back to yourself, to the present. With a deep breath, you unclench your fists, feeling the deep recesses in your palms from your nails.

No. You were trying to recall a happy moment. How quickly your mind can be engulfed by the pain of your past, your anxieties, and especially your guilt. Despite what Withers said, a piece of you still feels a need to atone for what you’ve done.

Your brow furrowed as you willed yourself to think beyond the lust of your first time together and the pain of your guilty conscious in order to reach the memory you sought after.

After that first night together, he was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. Basking in the sun, eyes closed and arms outstretched, just as you are now. Stealing a moment within all the chaos to enjoy the sweet, gentle caress of the sun - a gift he hadn’t experienced in centuries. The corners of your mouth turned up into a small smile as your mind rested lightly on this memory of him. Only a few days have passed without the sun kissing your skin, and you missed it, desperately.

***

You spend most of your time above ground helping with various efforts to repair Baldur’s Gate. Grand Duke Ravengard has given you a place to stay in the city (as thanks for saving the city, of course) though he did mention how kind it would be if you could help fix things up. So, you pass the time by clearing endless rubble, rebuilding homes, running errands, and fetching more materials. A far cry from your previous adventures, but at least you feel fulfilled and safe.

After a few hours of supporting rebuilding efforts, you make your way to Sorcerer’s Sundries. You pause just outside the front entrance to admire the beauty of place, especially after spending the day seeing the results of destruction and war.

Compared to the rest of Baldur’s Gate, the building had taken very little damage. Many of the steeples were still standing tall and proud, points reaching up towards the endless sky. The deep, rich blues, reds, and yellow of the stained glass ceiling were only occasionally interrupted by dark pits of shattered glass. A renowned artist was traveling to town to begin her work to repair these panes, restoring them back to their renowned splendor. All not a surprise, given Rolan’s exquisite care of the place.

If you were honest with yourself, this isn’t the only reason you hesitated to enter the building. Anxiety knotted deep in your stomach, cramping down like a vice grip on your intestines.

I could just come back another day. You try to argue with yourself. But, you are low on wards to protect yourself from the vampire spawn, and it’s reckless to gamble your life against your social anxiety. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath and step in through the entryway.

“Welcome, welcome my dear!” Rolan exclaimed, walking around the front desk to share a warm embrace. He held onto your arms as he pulled away from the hug and whispered, “Your hesitation to come inside wasn’t entirely subtle, but I understand why.” Rolan’s eyes quickly glanced over to the man working in the back section of the store, among the rare books.

His thick brown hair rested in a loose wave, flowing down to the top of his shoulders. Furrowed brows dominated his face, perhaps frustrated by the page he held in his hand, while his other hand was curled into a tight fist on the desk. Though he was all the way at the back of the store, you could almost make of the few wrinkles creasing his forehead, just above his nose. Gale looked as good as always.

Your breath caught in your throat as you made just a split second of accidental eye contact with Gale. Immediately, he turned away as you fixed your eyes to the ground, face burning red-hot. Compounding your guilt, you could see that the sparkle was still missing from his eyes - it was obvious even from across the room.

With a heavy sigh, you looked back up at Rolan, who now held your hands. “Come now,” he said softly, with a voice full of compassion. “Let’s get you those wards.”

***

The doors of the Elfsong Tavern swung open, welcoming you in. Your eyes searched the dimly lit crowd for an old friend. Your heart ached for this time together, especially after your earlier exchange with Gale.

Finally, you saw your friend, nestled at a cozy table in a corner, perfect for gossip. She raised her hand, only just at the elbow (never one to make a huge scene) to get your attention. You wave back before grabbing a couple glasses of wine from the bartender. Shadowheart’s lovely, light hair is nearly radiant in the candlelight. Her smile fills you with a soft and gentle love as you exchange greetings.

She tells you all about the Selunite group she has been staying with, how it makes her feel more complete and connected to her parents, at least in some way. She smiles when recalling some of the funny or tender moments, occasionally absentmindedly rubbing the back of her hand to soothe phantom pains that still seem to haunt her, even subconsciously.

You both speak fondly of Wyll and Karlach, though neither of you have any new information or news on their whereabouts. You haven’t seen them since you defeated the Netherbrain and they decided to venture off together to Avernus. You felt your mind grow sad and dark, drifting away towards guilt-ridden thoughts.

Did I do the right thing? Should they have gone to Avernus? Especially when Raphael has the Crown?

Shadowheart’s gentle squeeze on your hands pulls you back into the present with her, saving you from your own self-torment for at least a moment. You both sit there in silence for a few minutes, holding hands, content to share this time and space together.

***

You step onto the street from the tavern into a comfortable evening. Your heart feels full from your time with Shadowheart, and you feel a light bounce in your step as you start to take your familiar path back to the sewer entrance.

You stop dead in your tracks as you are ripped away from the warmth you felt inside only just a moment ago. A shiver ran from the base of your spine all the way up your back, raising the hair on the back of your neck and causing your whole body to tense. You scan your surroundings for any threats.

You thought you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to be hunted - how quickly your body snaps back into fight or flight, trauma nearly etched into your core psyche. The hilt of your blade warmed by your palm as you grip it in anticipation. While more practical and lightweight, the short sword pales in comparison to the greatsword you wielded against the mindflayer threat. And, if you were honest with yourself, your skills with this short sword left a bit to be desired. On any other occasion, this difference was negligible - but in this moment, you feel like significance as if it were as immense as the night sky stretched out above you.

Nothing unusual stands out to you as you continue to scan, and you begin to take tentative steps forward. You see, smell, and sense nothing, as the hair on the back of your neck begins to flatten back down. You decide to take a new, more public path to the sewer entrance, just in case.

***

You lurk in the shadows after dropping down into the sewer, watching Astarion as he observes his very extended family from the platform above. Shoulders tense, knuckles gripping the railing with a subtle desperation, as if this were the last line of defense - the only thing keeping him tethered to this immense responsibility. Otherwise, his face gives nothing away. You know only from your bedtime conversations that this stoic mask covers so many feelings. Concern for the sheer volume of spawn. Potential for rebellion. The responsibility of his role. Fear that this life, his life isn’t enough for you.

His grip on the railing loosens slightly as he notices you in the corner of his eye. Turning to face your direction, Astarion extends a hand towards you, beckoning you closer. Climbing up the steps towards him, As you reach the top of the stairs next to him, you scoff playfully, “Not sure I’ll ever get the hang of sneaking around like you.”

One side of Astarion’s lips raises up in a smirk, “We can’t all be as talented as I am. Besides, there are plenty of other things you are good at.”

He grabs your hand and guides you into his arms. The side of your face nestles into the cool fabrics covering his chest, and you wrap your arms around your waist to bring yourself closer to him.

He presses his lips to the top of your forehead, wrapping one arm across the back of your shoulders while the fingers of his other hand trace up and down your back. His fingertips leave patterns of sparks where they touch you, and you hum gently, contentedly into his chest. Your body craves his touch, thankful for each morsel provided. Your hands begin to explore his back, fingers light, tracing the embroidery of his jacket across the broad muscles. You feel his response, pulling you in closer, willing there to be a way to be more connected together in this moment.

His hand leaves your back to move up to cup your cheek. The coolness of his hand exposed the deep flush in your cheeks, which you didn’t realize had already started to bloom. His fingers gently, lovingly, traced your jaw until they landed on your chin. He lifted up your face, up and away from his chest so you could look directly at him. You drank in his beautiful, soft hair, his expressive smile, and the tender look in his eyes that has been oh so frequent since the end of Cazador.

With a glint in his eyes, Astarion leaned down to press his lips against yours. Soft, gentle, delicate - at first. You feel a flare of heat wash over you, starting deep in your core and rising up to envelope you, causing a tingle throughout your body and pricking up the hairs on your head. You reach up to lace your fingers into his hair to pull him deeper into the kiss. His mouth opens as he softly moans into you, the hand on your chin fluttering down your neck, pausing to rub over the two holes he opened just last night.

You melt further into him. His hands continue to explore lower, grabbing your thighs and lifting you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. Your mind reels, forgetting the audience below as you are reminded, yet again, of your first time together.

Did he know that you thought about that just earlier today? No - you don’t have the tadpoles anymore, there’s no way. It’s not possible…right?

You squeeze your eyes shut and dig your nails into his back to bring yourself back to this moment, the present. At the same time, you felt the swift, firm, sting of Astarion’s hand on your ass. Your eyes flew open from both the sudden sharp pain and the sound that echoed throughout the sewer chamber, embarrassment filling your face.

“Stay here with me" he whispered in your ear, taking a quick nibble on your earlobe before pulling away his face to look at you. “Let’s go somewhere more private,” he said, nodding at one of his brothers to take over at his post before whisking you away into your backroom bedroom.

Still wrapped around his waist, Astarion pressed your body against the wall. A practiced hand deftly began to loosen her shirt and your fingers clumsily started to remove his as well.

“Do you remember our first time together?” he asked as he pulled your top over your head. Exposed, his eyes hungrily drank you in, and you felt his arousal grow against you through his clothes. You already ached for him, wanting, needing, to get beyond these clothes and under each other’s skin. Distracted by your desire, you ignored his question as you begin to grind your hips against him.

He laughs, his free hand pinning your hips back to the wall to hold you in place. You let out a pained whine, absolutely desperate for him. “Tut-tut, so eager, my wicked little thing! Have you already forgotten our first time together?” he teased.

Color drained from your face with this realization as you quickly work out a response to his question. “No, of course I didn't forget! I was actually just thinking about that earlier today…” You let your words trail off into nothingness as he finishes pulling off his shirt, taking in his body with your eyes while running your hands over his perfect shoulders, his chest. You can’t believe this perfect image of a man is with you.

He laughs lightly again, now untangling your legs from his waist so you can stand on your own. As soon as your feet hit the ground, he presses his body completely against yours - one hand takes both of your wrists and pins them against the wall above your head while the other explores your chest. His fingertips lightly dancing over your skin, leaving trails of goosebumps, before roughly grabbing one of your breasts with a firm hand, forcing a cry from your throat. His fingers move to your nipple, rubbing and pinching it until he feels you start to squirm.

His mouth dances along the skin of your shoulders, covering you in soft kisses as he slowly climbs to your neck. His teeth graze across the skin of your neck before he places a sweet kiss over his bite marks. The tenderness of his kiss mixed with the pain of his fingers causes your legs to buckle. Your desire for him has only continued to swell, threatening to overtake you already. You bite into your lip to stifle your moans.

He plays along the space where he’s fed from you, giving it extra attention from his lips. “I was thinking we could try it again - remake the experience, and make it even better than before” he murmurs into your neck.

His hand moves from your chest down to your pants. Painstakingly slow, he dances his fingers along the waistband, toying with you. Each brush of his fingers against your skin feels like electricity, and you can’t help but whine your annoyance with his teasing.

Finally, his hand slips inside, expertly finding his way to your slit, which was dripping wet for him already. The pads of his first two fingers began rubbing your clit, first in slow circles and slowing building in intensity. You feel your body start to move uncontrollably, each shockwave rolling through your body. Astarion lets go of your wrists so he can use both of his hands to hold your waist in place, nails digging into your sides as you writhe with pleasure.

You reach your hands down to his pants to loosen them enough to free him into your willing hands. You quickly dip your fingers into your own wetness and run it along his dick before gently stroking him. He groaned into your neck, teeth bared against your skin with an even greater threat of breaking through.

“Great,” he said suddenly, pulling away. “I will see you tomorrow night, then.”

Astarion turned away from you, reaching for his shirt and pulling it back over his head. He pulled his pants back up and over his ready and willing cock, betraying his own bodily needs. He turned back towards you, leaned in, and planted a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I love you” he whispered into your ear before swiftly vanishing out the door.

You stood, frozen and unable to react as the scene had changed too dramatically for you to process. Your hand held the place on your cheek where he kissed. Your back was still pressed against the wall as you tried to understand what just happened while grappling with the pain of your unmet need.

You smiled to yourself. That dirty bastard.

---

Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you all enjoyed it!

You can read the next chapter here.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #archive of our own #bg3 spoilers #dark urge #bg3 gale #shadowheart

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