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strawboobi · 7 months

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Carved: A Sapphic Arcana Tale.

Chapters 1 & 2

Summary: If she asked to carve her initials into your skin, would you let her? Possessive girlfriend and countess, Nadia Satrinava, may be a little overbearing at times, but it's only because she loves you so much - too much.

Fem!Reader, Kn!fe Play, Slow Burn, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Manipulative GF, Possessive GF, Some Fluff, Stalking, Lots of Pet Names, Branding

*I do not own any characters from the arcana franchise, and I do not credit any of these behaviors as canon*

You knew it was late, much later than the time that you had told your girlfriend, Nadia, that you’d be home. You had gone out with some friends to catch-up, and despite her initial protests, Nadia had agreed to let you go without any accompanying guards or her own presence. It had felt strange at first, being at a bar with nobody to remind you to sit-up straight or to escort you to the bathroom, but after a while you found yourself lost in the excitement of the evening. Your friends cheered as another round of drinks was ordered. You’d already had two shots which normally would be your limit, but one more hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea. That is, until you realized that you had, in fact, had four shots and one miscellaneous drink.

Your cheeks burned with tipsy heat as you made your way to the front gates of the castle. It had to be at least 1:00 a.m. by now. The windows of the building looked dark, yet the stained glass imagery still glittered in the moonlight. A wavering image of lotus flowers and other things that Nadia had found interesting at the time of the castle’s remodeling. She always had an eye for noticing the finer things, it was one of ideals that had brought you two together. You had met during the open market three years prior, you, a palm-reader sat cross-legged in your makeshift tent, and Nadia, head wrapped so that you could only see the blazing ruby hue of her eyes. During her reading, which was meant to help her understand the headaches she’d be having, she began to trace patterns onto the back of your hand with her thumb. She whispered, “I sense that you have been reading palms for quite some time. You need a break. You are tired,” and she was right. After that, you two left the tent together, and from there it was, well, history.

The castle gate opens automatically at your touch, one of the enchantments Nadia had done, and the hinges creak quietly as the iron settles. You begin to walk, shuffling silently through the gardens, heading towards the looming double doors. You huff out a breath, grateful that nobody is around to have caught you, yet. As you ascend the staircase your eyes widen. You pause, foot perched on the stoop of the final step. Your nose inhales and exhales rapidly on its own. You sniff widely like a dog trying to decode the scent. What on earth could be producing such a delicate smell as this hour? The flowers are hardly in bloom at this time of year, and there isn’t a breeze to carry in a scent from the city. No, you know this smell. It is the same one that you go to bed to, the scent you wake up to. It is Jasmine and Lavender. It is a perfume. It is Nadia.

You freeze, hoping that your intuition is wrong, but it never is. Slowly lifting your gaze, you find yourself staring at the round window directly above the castle door. The window is cracked, and from the darkness inside you can scarcely make out a ruby iris, trained solely on you. The window opens with a slowness that you are certain is intentional, and Nadia steps out of the shadows, her face going from shadowed to luminescent. She truly is the most beautiful woman in all of Vesuvia. She does not move, but her eyebrow raises slightly. She parts her lips, “Come,” she demands, “Meet me in the dining area. I’ve prepared something special for tonight,” she whispers at the end of her sentence, and you suddenly become aware of the goosebumps that have arisen on the back of your neck. Nadia retreats, the window slamming shut behind her. “Fuck,” you curse under your breath. Nadia is not one to indulge in late night sweets, unless that sweet is you, but something in the way she spoke, the stone features of her face, lead you to believe that she is not in the mood for sweetness tonight. You place a palm against the door, taking in its hand-carved grain. Your stomach clenches and releases. “Carved,” the word settles over you like a blanket, yet you cannot understand why. “Better not keep her waiting,” you mumble, taking another breath before pushing the door open.

.·:*¨༺🔪 ༻¨*:·. .·:*¨༺🔪 ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺🔪 ༻¨*:·.

The door hisses as it closes, sending an eerie echo bouncing from the walls of the spacious entrance. You swallow. Normally, Nadia would have at least two night attendants and a handful of guards present within the castle at night. “You can never be too safe, sweetheart,” she would coo as she kissed your nose. Your safety was always her top priority alongside her own, so for you to pass by countless empty posts as you progress to the kitchen is all but comforting. “Nadi,” you shout, your voice wavering and meek. “Nads?” You shout a little louder, hoping that she’ll respond. Instead, you hear your voice repeated back to you by the shadows, and again the hairs on your neck rise. “Carved,” the word circles your brain, begging you to unwrap it as you round the last corner to the dining room.

A faint light emits like dying embers beneath the door to the dining room. Nadia must have lit candles. Maybe the power’s gone out? Yet, that wouldn’t explain the lack of chambermaids or guards. Nadia would have probably had more of them around if an outage were the case. Perhaps she would even be in the city, giving out candles to her people. No. Something is off here. You approach the door, another tall frame that makes you feel surprisingly small in its presence. You raise your hand, knocking lightly three times.

“Nadi, are you in here?” You open the door just enough to stick your head inside, peering as your eyes adjust to the addition of a little light. There, in the farthest seat at the head of an empty dining table, is Nadia. She is wearing her casual attire, a teal shawl hanging loosely around her shoulders. Chandra, her owl familiar, sits perched on the woman’s steady finger, preening herself against her owner’s nose. “Nadia,” you whisper, and suddenly both the woman and the familiar are looking at you with distaste. Chandra lets out of a high-pitched screech, flapping her wings before taking flight. She soars at you with what seems like fury, before swooping up towards the high ceiling, and making her way out of the cracked door. You’d barely had time to process your own stumbling into the room before Nadia speaks.

Her voice comes out like molten honey, “Well, well, look who found her way back home.”

“Listen,” You begin. “I know I am so late getting back, and I truly am sorry. I had a few drinks, and I lost track of time. I know that you were probably worried sick, but baby, I’m fine. See?” You gesture to your finger proudly.

Nadia’s shoulders level and then lower. The tension her brow creases away, and for a moment, she is relaxed. You are ok, and she was worried. She’d begun folding and unfolding the blankets as the night grew darker, awaiting your return. Your safety, however, was not enough to satisfy her. Not when there was something you were holding out on telling her.

“I may not be a palm-reader, darling, but I know when you’re lying to me,” She says. “What’s got you so happy tonight, hm?” Her voice goes up at the end of her sentence, and a thin smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“Nothing,” You say.

Nadia is pleased with this answer. Her smirk blooms into a full-on grin, then a chuckle, and in seconds she is belly laughing with her mouth agape. The sound is like a siren song, yet the image makes you feel dizzy.

“Nothing?” She spits, all traces of joy gone from her expression. “You mean to tell me that, first, you’re going to be late, and then you’re going to pretend like I don’t know about the woman from the bar?”

You place a hand over your stomach, suddenly aware of the space between the two of you. Nadia still sits at one end of the ivory table, and you stand trembling at the other. “How on earth does she know,” You think to yourself.

“Well,” She muses, pulling you from your thoughts. “I am going to ask you that question again, and this time I want you to lie with some confidence,”

She slides the chair away from the table, standing with her hands folded at her front. Grace oozes from her posture, yet her eyes have narrowed onto you, urging you to say nothing other than what she already knows. You open your mouth to speak.

“You said that she was a flirt for tips, yet you tip her well. 20 extra coins for a lemon blueberry cocktail?” She questions.

“Nadia, that girl means nothing to me. I hardly know her,” You retort. “I barely ever leave your side, not that I want to, but you can’t seriously think that I’m having an affair with the bartender,”

“That girl,” She begins to laugh quietly again. “That girl is the same person who looks at you as if you are a freshly made creme brulee. That girl has not made a single effort to look you in the eye. That girl thinks your tits are a welcome mat, and you are all but closing the door in her face,” She huffs, a stray strand of hair falling into her eyes.

“Nadi,”

“Oh, no, I’m not done,” She speaks excitedly. “Your friend, Pasha, dropped off your bag about an hour ago. She said that when she left, you were nowhere to be seen,”

She starts towards you. “Where were you, sweetheart? Was someone mewing and whining while that tasteless bitch fingered her in the bathroom?”

“We did not have sex,”

“Then what did you do?”

“She,” You swallow. “She cornered me as I was in the bathroom. I was leaning against the sink. I hadn’t realized how much I’d had to drink, and I was feeling sick. She brought me some water, rubbed my back, and stayed with me until I was sober enough to walk back home,”

“Did she walk you home?”

“No,” You’re offended. How could she think that you let another woman anywhere near the place where the two of you live? No, you couldn’t let her talk to you this way when nothing even happened between you and that girl.

“Nadia,” Your voice is stern. “I don’t think that I deserve to be spoken to this way. You act like I just cheated on you when I was busy trying not to pass out in a public bathroom. What happened to caring about my safety?”

“Your safety?” She asks in confusion. “Your safety was abandoned when you left the house without me or an escort,”

“I do not need an escort. I adore you and the life that we live, but I am a grown woman, Nadia,” You throw up your hands as your cheeks heat up.

You turn, putting your back to the woman you love. Nadia has seen you cry a dozen times before, but she doesn’t deserve to see you weak, not after being the reason you feel such a way. You sniffle. The back of your throat burns like you just downed liquor, and the shots from earlier still haven’t fully worn off. You sit onto the floor, putting your head in between your knees. You hear timid footsteps approaching from behind you, but you don’t bother to look.

“Lovergirl,” Nadia calls sweetly. “You know I have a tendency to overreact, and I fear I may have done it again.

“Lucky guess,” you mumble, voice raspy from holding back tears. “You never give me a chance to explain myself. S’not fair Nadi,”

“I know, and I apologize, but when she placed her head so close to your face, I got angry. Realistically, she was probably checking your pupils to see if you were sobering up, but I wasn’t thinking clearly at the time,”

She does have a tendency to overreact, but - wait a minute.

You get to your feet in an instant. The liquor hits you all over again as you nearly slump back onto the floor. Nadia catches you by the arm, steadying you. You pull yourself from her grasp, causing her to jump.

“How did you know that?” Your eyes are crazy, and you’re aware of how much of a drunken mess you must seem at the moment.

Nadia looks alarmed. “Know what?” She averts her eyes to the painting on the wall. It is of her ex husband, Lucio, he sneers in the photo and Nadia closes her eyes, squeezing them tightly.

“You followed me to the bar, didn’t you?” You snort. “You just couldn’t trust me for once? Seriously, Nads? After three years you still find it necessary to treat me like a child. Worse, you treat me like a cheater. I wash your hair, cook you dinner, make time for Chandra, and you can’t even trust me to go out on my own?”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Do what!?” You’re shouting at this point. The words filled the room in a thunderous rage.

“Kiss her,”

“What? I didn’t-”

“You did,” Her voice cracks. “You don’t remember it, but before she started checking your pupils, you kissed her. Perhaps, she kissed you. Either way, it was brief, and it happened. It may have even been an accident, but for a split second your lips brushed hers,”

“Nadia,” You start and then stop. Did you accidentally kiss the bartender? Were you really that drunk or is she just trying to gain your sympathy for her actions? At this point, you didn’t care. Your legs felt like lead, your head hurt, and all you wanted to curl up with her beneath your silken sheets.

“Nads,” You try again, “I can’t remember a lot of what happened tonight, but if what you’re saying is true, then I am deeply sorry. I will sleep on the sofa for the next month if it makes you feel better,”

“You know I only overreacted because I care about you. Right? I don’t want you to get hurt, or worse I don’t want to have to hurt that girl,”

She places her hands on your shoulders, pulling you into her. You let her do it. Your head finds its place on her chest as your arms snake around her waist. She rests her head on top of yours, rocking you slowly.

She continues, “But you did lie to me whether you realize it or not, and I can’t let this one mistake slide. Who knows what would happen if you went unpunished?”

As her words hit your ears, you feel the urge to run. You drop your arms from around her, lifting your head as you struggle to break free. Unfortunately, your girlfriend is taller and stronger than you both physically and magically. You find yourself bound to the spot, unable to lift a finger. She backs away from you, placing the two of you a couple centimeters apart. She bends down to be eye-level with you.

“You can run all you want, but you best believe that you’ll be bound and gagged on the floor before you ever make it out of this castle,” She speaks so nicely, yet her words are pitifully true.

She circles you. “I’ll ask you this only once. Do you want me to let you go?”

You want to say yes. You want to go to bed and pretend that this is a dream, but you know better than to disobey the countess of Vesuvia.

“No,” you whisper.

“Lovely choice, darling. Now go get the knife,”

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This is my first real attempt at writing a fanfiction, so please don't roast me at the stake. Do let me know what you think so far, and drop some predictions for our future chapters.

#sapphic #the arcana #the arcana game #nadia the arcana #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #knife k!nk #slow burn #established relationship #stalker gf #possessive gf #ocs #eventual smut #down bad #It gets freaky #kinktober

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ikarakie · 1 year

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mike has a panic attack.

it's sudden and it's terrifying and eddie has no idea what to do. one minute they're all yelling and laughing and just playing d&d, and the next, mike is collapsing to the floor struggling to breathe. gasping out the same two names over and over again. the panic attacks eddie's had before were never, never this bad. for a fucking awful moment he thinks he's about to watch wheeler die.

lucas stays with him, crouched by his side and talking in gentle tones. murmuring words of assurance that, while good, don't seem to reach his friend. dustin had sprinted out of the room yelling into a walkie talkie as soon as mike went down, so eddie has no fucking idea what he's up to. not that he's able to focus on much other than the kid (because, god, he's so young, what the hell has happened to him?) trying and failing to just breathe.

he tries the shit that worked for him, trying to get him to breathe in time with his counts, but it's like mike's ears are full of cotton. there's not even a hint of recognition in his eyes as either him or lucas speak.

dustin returns exactly three minutes later, trailed by the last guy eddie would've ever expected to walk through the doors of hellfire club. steve harrington zeroes in on mike like a hawk, crosses the room quickly and crouches in front of him. lucas scoots away, visibly relieved to see steve, so eddie reluctantly does the same. mike's knees are to his chest and he's heaving sobs so powerful they wrack his entire body. for about thirty infuriating seconds, steve just watches.

"oh god- oh fuck- fuck- will, will-" mike is saying, through stilted breaths. "will, el- el- i can't- they're-"

"mike." steve's voice is like honey, low and soothing in a way lucas' can't be yet. mike snaps his gaze up, finally proving his ears work. "where are you right now?"

"hawkins lab-" mike chokes, and eddie just listens, dumbfounded. "hawkins- starcourt- fuck-"

"no," steve says gently. mike stares at him, slightly less glazed. "where are you?" he asks again, a little more pointed. a few seconds pass. mike's eyes dart around the room.

"hellfire." he whispers, barely audible. steve nods, asks if he can come closer, if he can touch mike. the kid nods frantically, and then his hands are being peeled from where they were curled protectively against his chest. they're placed against steve's instead, and they spend the next few minutes breathing in tandem. harrington demonstrating and mike doing his best to follow.

his breathing eventually evens out, thank god, and the heart-wrenching sobs simmer down into quiet tears. mike all but throws himself into the embrace steve offers, tucking his head under the guy's chin and seemingly making himself as small as possible.

"it's okay, you're okay." steve promises, speaking into mike's hair as he gently rocks them back and forth. "they're okay. they're just fine, both of them. you looked after them so well, bud." he keeps whispering reassurances and sweet, kind words into the little cocoon he's crafted. mike stays curled up there for a while, making a wet patch on steve's shoulder.

then finally sounding more like himself, grumbles, "just 'cos we're hugging doesn't mean i like you." after maybe four or five minutes have passed. steve just huffs a laugh, because despite his words, mike is still clutching steve's arms as he pulls back.

"of course not." steve agrees. mike smiles as his hair is carefully ruffled. turns and reaches for dustin and lucas, who waste no time in piling themselves onto their friend. steve doesn't go far though, keeping a hand in the hair at the nape of mike's neck.

it's only then that he finally makes eye contact with eddie, who's watched the whole thing go down with a sick curiosity. because... who was this guy? this was not king steve, or the asshole, cookie-cutter jock steve harrington that eddie knew of. eddie had thought dustin's nickname for him of 'number one babysitter' had been an exaggeration; that maybe he'd watched them a grand total of three times back when he and nancy wheeler dated, and dustin had developed some fixation on him.

but... no, here he was. having brought hard ass michael wheeler down from easily the worst panic attack eddie had ever seen with the ease of someone who's done it a million times. (and wasn't that a harrowing thought?)

"you mind cutting it a bit early tonight, man?" he asks, softly, and it takes eddie a second to register that he's speaking to him. "i know you've still got, like, 20 minutes, but-"

"no, no," eddie cuts him off, kind of desperate for wheeler to get home and rest. "shit, man. that was... yeah, of course, take him." steve smiles appreciatively (an annoyingly pretty expression eddie never imagined him capable of, let alone directing at him), and turns back to the kiddie hug pile.

"hey, boys? mike?" he calls, all gentle and warm. it makes eddie's heart ache; even more so when all three turn to steve with big, shiny eyes. mike's peek out from dustin's arms. "how about we head off now, and stop at that payphone on the corner of glenview on the way home? give the byers a call in california?"

mike nods, hinging on desperate. dustin and lucas give him one more good squeeze before agreeeing themselves. steve corrals them all up, bids a fucking goodnight to the present company, (plus an extra one for eddie specfically), and shuffles them out of the room. eddie, and the rest of hellfire, are left stunned in the wake of babysitter harrington.

(when mike tries to apologise the next day, eddie absolutely refuses to accept it- and, at lucas' timid request, writes the mind flayer he'd introduced out of the campaign entirely. the next session, it's like the thing never existed.)

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