A/N: Hello! Thank you to anyone who sends in a commission to me over on Ko-Fi from now until all the days to come! This here masterlist is dedicated to shouting out those individuals, as well as linking any commissions they give me permission to share with everyone (both as contributions to the community, and reference of my work quality ^_^)
If you would like to make a commission of your own, please visit me over on: KOFI!
If you would like to learn more about my medical journey, why I am accepting commissions, and glimpse at my rates please view: THIS POST!
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Prompt: All I need is you.(Jamil Viper x Yuuri Kazuki)
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Prompt: "Two idiots on a random summer Tuesday." Character x OC (Epel Felmier x Elena Eos Vivarićia)
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Prompt: 'You May Now Kiss The Fae' -- Epilogue to the 'Proposal' Series over on my Main Masterlist. Ft. Malleus Draconia and Lilia Vanrouge
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Prompt: Jack's got no game...or does he? (Jack Howl X Reader)
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Prompt: Life on Earth! - Reunited (ft. Riddle Rosehearts)
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Prompt: Life on Earth! - Reunited (ft. Silver Vanrouge)
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Prompt: Sour Gummies, Cinnamon Discs, and Milk Chews! (Deuce Space X Reader X Ace Trappola)
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Prompt: "You may Now Kiss The __!" (Ed. Deuce Spade and Ruggie Bucchi)
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Notes: My first ever Vgen commission! Thank you to @denim-lich for commissioning me on this fun little story of your OC and Astarion. I had a lot of fun writing and this and you were such a delight to work with!
The Wizard Tower was crumbling. Time had not been kind to the abandoned building. Without its master to look after it, the spire had been left to gather dust and be taken over by the wilds. Unfortunate for Barry and Astarion, taking on a job that had them coming to said tower to bring a package for the master - only to arrive without a delivery pay and nowhere to dump the object they were hired to carry.
Fortunate, though, due to the wizard's extensive book collection now left abandoned, Barry could browse the the old tomes freely. And each inked word sparked hope in their heart - with so many magical books ripe for the easy picking, there was a chance they could find what they've been searching for. It was a long shot. But why waste such an opportunity… it wasn't like the master of the spire was going to miss a few books.
And so, that's where Barry sat for over an hour. Bathed in warm orange light from the plethora of candles that were placed on any available surface without a scrap of paper, flaring to life when it had first entered the chambers. Surrounded by dust and books, both ancient and new, yellowing pages turned carefully between their fingers as its eyes scanned each sentence carefully - Barry was swallowed in a world of academic studies.
Somewhere down below the spire's highest point, music had started to play. A wonderful melody about some adventurer - it replaced the creaking walls and whistling winds with violins and an opera singer's voice. But Barry was too engrossed in its search to notice the shattering of the midnight silence. It sat crossed legged on the floor, circled by piles of tomes. Seemingly to make a fort out of the old scripts.
Some were about ancient curses. Others pertaining spell-work and alchemy. There was one or two amongst the piles that had caught Barry's eye purely because of the thrumming energy from the pages. Or it had a pretty spine, but were otherwise useless.
The one in Barry's lap had a vast knowledge circling vampires and their curse. But after reading about six pages, Barry came to realize most of it was old knowledge. Reading more like a collectors addition of bad information.
They placed it aside, snapping it shut with a loud crack of heavy pages and reached for another.
"Darling?" A velvety voice called from down below. Somewhere mid-way along the spiral staircase that traveled up to where the wizard most likely did their research. "Oh, pet~ Please make some sort of noise so I know you didn't just get eviscerated by a trap of some kind."
"I'm alive!" Barry called back without looking up from the new book. It had some strange illustrations of celestial bodies, but nothing so far was catching Barry's attention.
"Oh good! I was worried when there wasn't an immediate follow up of cursing." Astarion appeared on the top of the stairs, a bottle of wine in one hand and two goblets cradled dexterously between his slender fingers. He had a cobweb tangled in his silver hair but otherwise finely dressed in silk and cotton. "Oh, you found the old man's library. Anything interesting?"
With the grace of a cat, Astarion plopped down beside Barry's crossed-legged form, just close enough that his knee brushed against their thigh. But providing enough space that he wouldn't intrude on Barry's concentration while it was reading.
Pouring rich red liquid into the goblets, Astarion gave Barry a few seconds to finish the sentence they were on before leaning in close and pressing a soft brush of his lips against their cheek. Resting his chin against their shoulder.
"Astarion to Dearest."
Barry finally looked up, grinning sheepishly. "I know, hun, sorry. This book mentioned the Wish spell… but not in the way we want." It sighed heavily and chucked the book away, taking the half filled goblet from Astarion. Smiling knowingly. "I see you've already raided his cellar."
Astarion huffed playfully, leaning back on one hand while swirling the wine in his goblet, feigning insult. "I'll have you know I was making sure no undesirables were lurking in the cellar. There just so happened to be a very old, very rare vintage of wine that I thought we may share together. Is that so bad?" Astarion's smirk was just as high-spirited as the raised brow that framed his sharp gaze. The tilt of his cup towards Barry's only added to the light-hearted moment.
Barry grinned, chuckling as it clinked the goblets together. "Other than this fine vintage, did you find the wizard at all?"
"Sadly, it seems our quarry has long since vacated this sorry excuse for a castle. Which might I say is somehow messier than Gale's place. I mean, look at this." Astarion waved his drink in a arch, gesturing to the cluttered desks and knocked over arcane instruments. "Gale's a hoarder but at least he's classy about it."
"I'll be sure to let Gale know how highly you think of his clutter." Barry nodded firmly, like it was something very important.
"Oh, please don't. He'll be insufferable otherwise." Despite the heavy groan emphasizing his words, Astarion was smiling. He took a delicate sip from the goblet and almost immediately spat the liquid back into the cup - coughing and spluttering. "Oh! Absolutely horrid! Give me that, my dear. That is definitely too vile for your wonderful tongue."
Barry was saved from the supposed revolting flavor by a millisecond. It had just tipped the goblet rim against their lips when Astarion snatched the cup away.
It laughed, letting their hand drop to their lap while Astarion jumped up and went to the window to pour the contents of their goblets out the window.
"I thought you were a wine connoisseur… how did such a vile vintage get past your sensitive nose, hmm?" It was said in jest. Pure light-hearted sarcasm, but the look Astarion responded with almost matched the insult Barry feigned to give.
"It's absolutely disgusting down there!" Astarion practically wailed. Throwing the goblets out the window to follow their contents down to the ground. "I could barely smell a damn thing amongst the mold and… whatever grotesque experiments the old man was doing."
A shiver ran through his lean frame, seeming a result from the aftertaste still lingering on his tongue. "Well, as disappointing as that was, I'm not surprised. By the state of this place, I'd suspect even the questionable growths have questionable growths."
"You really don't like it here, do you?" Barry asked, leaning back on their hands against the floor. Watching their lover shrug.
"I guess its old habits." Astarion sighed, walking the edge of the room with a curious eye. "We use to wander into all sorts of buildings back when our heads had passengers. I'm still expecting every corner to hold some sort of life-threatening risk. Not just…dust and cobwebs." Astarion wiped a finger along the surface of a table, grimacing at the smudge left on his skin before wiping it on the dark material of his pants. "And now it's just the two of us… I'm a little more on edge."
Barry's smile tilted into something softer and they stood to join Astarion as he reached the cold, empty fireplace. When they reached for his hand, Astarion almost instinctively intertwined their fingers together. Bringing their palm up to his lips to press a delicate kiss to their skin. "It's only a delivery job, Star. Maybe next time we just turn around and leave right away. It was a little stupid of us to venture inside when no one answered."
Astarion chuckled, keeping Barry's hand close to his chest - gently rubbing his thumb against their fingers. "It was a little reckless wasn't it."
"More than a little." Barry laughed, playfully poking Astarion's chest with its free hand. "I blame you for picking the lock. I couldn't resist having a look when the door opened."
"You could have stopped me." Astarion grinned. Then his tone shifted with a teasing smirk. "I was just making sure the wise old wizard didn't trip on his robes going down the stairs. Like any good courier."
"Uh-huh~" Barry laughed. "Because you're such a kind hearted delivery boy. Alright, we should probably get going. I don't want to spend the night here. Did you leave the package somewhere safe?"
Astarion nodded, releasing Barry's hand only to let it gather some of the more promising looking books and place them in their pack. Their hands were together once more when Astarion started to lead the way down the winding staircase to the main foyer.
Like the tower, magic was weaved through every inch of this place. Candles sparked to life when the pair descended to the bottom floor. Chandeliers bloomed to life with orange light caught in frosted glass orbs, giving the eerily still tower some sense of life. It was somehow colder in the foyer than it was in the tower. And Barry felt it was better to leave now more than ever. A creeping unease was beginning to crawl up their spine and its instincts were beginning to bristle.
It was definitely time to go.
The music Astarion had started had stopped. Whatever he had touched to kick up the soft melody had died down since he joined Barry in the tower. Which allowed the pair to leave the estate quickly, letting the tall oak doors creak shut behind them as they gathered their belongings and begin traveling through the dark to the estate's gates.
The moment they were free of the stone walls, Barry felt their muscles relax. The half-moon gave little light, but with their heightened senses, they could walk the path towards the surrounding forest with ease. Hand in hand with Astarion.
"Maybe we should have brought the item back with us." Barry said after a moment's contemplation. "What if they don't pay us if the wizard is dead?"
"We were paid to delivery it, my love." Astarion replied, his voice seeming almost ethereal in the silence of the late night hour. "And they were paid to make and have an object delivered. We've done our part. And they've done theirs. For all we know, the wizard if just on holiday and forgot to hire a maid. Don't fret, love."
Barry nodded, looking over their shoulder one last time to watch the dark, cold tower slip into the shadows of the night. "Maybe the inn will know more about him." It said, swinging their clasped hands back and forth idly. "The tower isn't that far from the inn. Or do you think he was so much a recluse that no one knows anything about him?"
"You won't let this drop anytime soon, will you?" Astarion teased. Crimson eyes sparkling in the faint silvery light.
"I'm so curious! Where did he go? What happened to him? The tower is full of expensive stuff but it looks like no one has touched a single thing until we turned up." Barry said in response. Squeezing Astarion's hand, exaggerating their words.
"Perhaps we should leave out the part that we went inside." Astarion said, pointedly glancing down at the heavy pack on Barry's back. "Questions might start arising if he comes back and finds a few books are missing."
"Oh… right. That's probably fair." Barry laughed softly. Not wanting to be too loud while on the road in the middle of the night.
The inn was indeed not that far from the tower. It glowed like a bonfire in the night, nestled beside the main road surrounded by lush gardens and flowering shrubs. The lanterns swung gently in the breeze, welcoming the duo to the establishment with soft creaks and flicking shadows.
Astarion held the door open for Barry, letting them take the lead in the conversation with the inn-keeper, paying for a room and some food to take up with them. They were welcomed by a large bed and fresh sheets. Nothing much decorated these inns out on the road. Meant purely for travel comfort and rest, but it was luxury compared to sleeping on mats in the middle of a dark forest.
Barry's boots were off the moment the door closed, groaning heavily with relief as it sank onto the mattress. "I'm exhausted. Thankfully we don't have anywhere to be tomorrow. A good sleep-in and a lazy afternoon is calling me."
Astarion chuckled, joining Barry on the bed and copying it in removing his boots from his feet. "We have enough coin that we can stay out here for a few days if you'd like. Take a break from the city life for a bit." He lifted a hand and trailed his fingers along Barry's back, watching it as they pursed their lips in thought. "Like you said… we have nowhere to be…"
Astarion leaned towards them and brushed a soft kiss against their shoulder, just where their shirt left open skin next to their neck. Then within the same tender moment, Barry felt Astarion's fangs graze along their warm flesh.
A shiver ran through its spine at the sharp prick of teeth. Astarion didn't break skin, but it was enough of a nibble that Barry couldn't miss the quiet question.
And its answer was just as silent. A little smile as they turned their head towards Astarion and allowed him to capture its lips in a kiss. Astarion's hands traveled elsewhere. Gliding down their plush frame to settle along their hips - another question… careful and tender. Asking permission before his deft fingers started to flick the buttons along Barry's clothes open, separating the trousers's waistband so his hand slipped beneath the fabric unhindered.
The spark of pleasure that ignited from the sensual touch had Barry's breathe hitching in its throat. But they still reciprocated, reaching forward to spread their palm over the bulge that was beginning to grow beneath Astarion's pants. His groan was heavy, needy - but went at the pace Barry set. His fingers sliding down through their slit to coat the tips in its arousal. Making the continued glide of his touch velvety.
Each piece of clothing came away from their bodies unhurried. Where Astarion worshiped every new inch of skin, leaving delicate marks along Barry's supple skin - it offered a breathy moan in response. Its hands coasted up along their lover's sides. Adoring the bare cool skin until its nails slightly grazed Astarion's ribs - his startled laugh was followed by his own grunt of pleasure. Distracted - torn - between the ticklish feeling of Barry's hand pawing at his side, tugging him closer, and their other hand working along his length. Swirling the pinkish tip with its thumb, smoothing the bead of pre-cum over the aching head.
He responded by circling its clit with his fingers, parting the folds to get better access to the sensitive nub until Barry's back arched. Mouth falling open and Astarion captured its lips with his. Invading the new space with his tongue as if he was trying to taste the pleased sound.
But he didn't get to enjoy it so freely. His hips bucked and rolled as Barry quickened its thrusting hand. Where their strokes had first been lazy and deliberate - were now determined and teasing. Bringing Astarion to the edge so quickly that his voice hitched in this throat, a warning - maybe a plea - before his cock throbbed and spilled a spread of cum over Barry's fingers.
Barry smiled, nipping the soft skin under Astarion's neck as the vampire groaned and gasped - almost helpless as Barry continued to stroke him through his orgasm.
"W-Wait, love!" Astarion's eyes blew wide with stimulation. Black pupils invading the crimson color, spasming and whining, until Barry finally released him. Smugly smiling as their lover's softening cock slipped out of their soaked palm one last time.
"If I had known you were going to make that much of a mess…" Barry teased, getting up from the bed to grab one of the towels hanging in the bathroom. They returned to Astarion's side, gently wiping away the milky mess that coated their lover's thighs. But they were only halfway through their after-care when Astarion tugged it towards him and kissed them sweet and heated. Drawing out the touch until Barry had to pull away to breathe.
Their cheeks burned with heat and its lips were left puffy and raw.
"I love you." Astarion murmured against their lips, teeth capturing its bottom lip momentarily before he pulled away. Smiling just as smugly as Barry was before. "You look adorable when you're flustered."
Barry poked their tongue out at him but didn't deny his claim, instead returned to providing their usual aftercare routine.
TW: Heavy Themes of Isolation/Reliance, Needles, Intimidation, Manipulation Through Health, Reader Wears A Dress And Is Called Princess But Like In A Non-Binary Way, and Codependence.
On your best days, you could remind yourself that life outside the castle probably wouldn’t be any more interesting than life inside of it.
How could it be? You’d never actually been outside, sure, but you’d spent hours staring out of your dust-covered windows, sorting through your mother’s research, walking across the scarred landscape in your holographic enrichment chamber until you came to the end of what the simulation was able to generate or Prince decided that you’d spent enough time thinking about things you shouldn’t, that day. You’d talked to other survivors (real survivors, you mean – you still don’t know if you could really call the way you live ‘surviving’) on your mother’s communication devices and the more primitive radio transceivers you put together yourself, and you knew that it was more routine than anything, that scavenging for food and gathering clean water and praying that, by some miracle, you’d stumble onto one of the few remaining pockets of civilization before that pocket devolves into in-fighting and anarchy was about as much fun as sitting inside and daydreaming about doing the same. You knew how to keep yourself busy; the castle was endless, its rooms countless and the labyrinth of tunnels that ran underneath it endless, and even if you did spend the rest of your life mapping out its every twist and bend, it would’ve taken another to finish the restoration work your mother started. You had enough dried and canned food to last you the next century, and you always kept the indoor garden going strong. You had hobbies, and routines, and when you were absolutely desperate for company, you had Prince. That, you guessed, would never change. No matter what you did, he would be there to guide you through it. No matter where you when, you’d always have Prince on your heels.
On your best days, you could tell yourself that life outside of the castle would be as boring as life inside of it.
On your worst, it was impossible to make yourself believe that anything could be as boring as the life you were living now.
It was a quiet, knotted despair – the kind that lent itself to long days spent consumed by low-burning anxiety and dampened terror and everything else that comes along with knowing you’d likely never take so much as a step outside of the building you’d been born in. You tried to keep it hidden the best you could, to avoid Prince and, by association, one of his well-intended but less than helpful ‘check-ups’, but the inevitable could only be delayed for so long. He found you in one of the castle’s tallest spires, sitting in a bay window spilling over with patterned quilts and velvet-lined pillows. He was already scowling when he appeared by your side, his lips quirked downward and his gaze ever so slightly narrowed. You’d expected as much. He’d always said the spire's damp air would worsen your condition, but according to Prince, nearly everything would worsen your condition. If he had his way, you’d be locked in your library all day and your bedroom all night, and he’d always know exactly where to find you.
He was wearing his holographic form, as he always was – his pink hair pulled back into a perfect low ponytail, his features softened yet well-defined, every part of him manicured and refined in the way a creature who’d been quite literally designed for companionship could be. You’d only seen his true form, his physical form, once; that shambling mess of gears and iron banding, but you could still remember the way it creaked as it moved towards you, the strange dissonance of hearing Prince’s voice and seeing that malformed, mechanical nightmare. You couldn’t be scared of him, not really, not when you knew it was still Prince underneath all that metal and all those jagged edges, but you listened when he warned you away from certain parts of the castle, now.
You didn’t turn to face him immediately, keeping your eyes on the distant landscape until he cleared his throat and took a step toward you. You watched, out of the corner of your eye, as Prince reached out, moving to touch your shoulder before pulling back and letting his hand fall to his side. He couldn’t touch you, not in this form, but he’d try, occasionally. It was an expression of the more human side of his programming, the half that was made to keep you happy, not just safe. You could only imagine what string of numbers could make a being so rational carry so much sentimentality. “I believe it’s past time for your treatment, Your Highness.”
You pulled your knees up to your chest, burying your face in the thick fabric of your skirts. “Again? Didn’t I just take my medicine yesterday?”
“Yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. It’s a daily essential. You’d know that if you ever bothered to listen to me.” His frown was gone in a moment, replaced with a small smile and a pleased look in his eyes. “Do you need me to escort you to the clinic?”
“I think I can find it on my own.” You waited for a long beat. When Prince failed to move, failed to respond, you added, “But, if you want to accompany me…”
“It’d be my honor, Highness.”
He waited patiently as you slowly removed yourself from the windowsill, sparing one last look towards the lifeless horizon as you smoothed over your skirts and placed yourself at his side. You couldn’t take his arm, but you didn’t need to. He knew how to keep pace with you, by now, matching your stride as you quietly navigated through the castle’s tangle of empty hallways and overly cluttered rooms. Everything, from the ancient furniture to the box-like sensors posted in the corner of every room to your own sparse decorative touches, was coated in a layer of dust you’d never been able to stave-off. You tried to clean whenever you could, and Prince did his part, but there was just too much to take care of. Your world was, simultaneously, impossibly small and incomprehensibly large, and it was similarly difficult to imagine that you’d ever be able to fill the space or shake off that ever-growing sense of claustrophobia.
Eventually, you came to a pair of towering glass doors – the entryway to the otherwise unused sunroom that you’d taken to using as a makeshift clinic. You looked to your side, nodding to Prince, and in an instant, he’d dissolved into thin air. You counted out a minute and, more importantly, waited to hear the sound of metal scraping against tile - the sound of Prince’s footsteps - before slipping inside. As always, the clinic greeted you with shining marble walls and a glittering glass cieling, but only dread accompanied the lovely sight. Your treatment, for as much as it delighted Prince, wasn’t something you could bring yourself to look forward to.
Prince was already waiting for you, a familiar wooden case in-hand, looking just a little more vivid than he had a second before. You knew why – that his holographic body was now anchored to his physical form, that he had to wear a skin you wouldn’t be able to see through – but you still made an effort not to look at him. It was too realistic, too uncanny. You didn’t know what you’d do if you ever met another living person. If Prince was too much for you, you couldn’t imagine how you’d react to someone who was made up of more than projected light.
You took your place on the cot in the center of the room, folding your legs underneath you and cringing at the way the stiff sheets crinkled. In a moment, Prince was at your side, already sanitizing the needle of a long, bronze syringe. You just held out your arm, pointedly glaring in the opposite direction, and Prince acknowledged your discontent with a low hum, a slight pinch, a sudden numbness slowly ebbing from the crook of your arm. You closed your eyes, but that only gave you less to distract yourself with, only left you more focused on the discomfort lodged just underneath your skin, the stark chill quickly seeping away what little warmth you had. Still, you kept your eyes shut as he worked, determined to at least pretend that it helped. “Prince.”
It was a reflex, by now – just another routine. Shut your eyes, and when that didn’t work, call out for Prince. He was as used to it as you were. “Yes, Highness?”
The pain was minimal, but you winced as he drew the needle back. “Do you think we could go for a walk tomorrow?”
“You go for a walk every day.” The bandages were next – white, plush, and virtually useless. You’d take them off in less than an hour, but Prince enjoyed the ritual of it, and it wasn’t as if you didn’t have time to spare. “As far as I was aware, you don’t have any other way to get around.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You threw him a hollow glare. “A walk outside. Just around the courtyard.”
“Why would you want to go out there?” You didn’t have to see him to know he was grimacing. You could hear the disgust in his tone, picture his automatic revulsion. “It’s filthy, and dangerous. The dust would shred your lungs.”
“I’d wear protective gear. We have ventilators, and I could make a—”
“The strain alone could break you. That’s not to mention the heatstroke, or the bugs. You wouldn’t last a second.” There was a soft laugh, a swatch of cotton against your skin. His fingertips brushed against your skin, as cold as ice and as lifeless as metal. “Don’t make me watch you suffer like that, princess. You know I like taking care of you, but that’d just be torture.”
You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “There are people who’ve been out there for as long as I’ve been alive. I think I could survive a day.”
It wasn’t a chuckle, this time, but a laugh – whole-hearted and chirping. Perfectly engineered to be as mirthful and as patronizing as possible. “You can’t be serious. An hour, I could start to understand, but a day?” He shook his head, a stray length of pink hair falling over one of his eyes. “Please, don’t put my poor heart through that.”
“You don’t have a heart.”
“I have enough of one to know that this isn’t a good idea.” He smiled, and when you didn’t return the gesture, he sighed, lowering himself to one knee. The bandage was secured, and before you could pull away, he took your hand in his. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was secure, remorseless and iron-clad. He must not have realized how confining it felt. Otherwise, you knew he never would’ve held you that way. “I know it sounds harmless now,” he started, in that faux-sympathetic tone. The same one he’d used when you scraped a knee, or came crying to him about another malfunction in one of your half-baked inventions. “But you have to trust me. You’re safe here, with me. I can’t promise that I’ll be able to help you out there.”
You felt something acidic rise into the back of your throat. “Prince,” you said, again, if only to buy time to brace yourself. “I want to go outside.”
It was quick, but you saw it. A flicker to his holographic form, a nearly imperceptible lilac aura suddenly tinted a harsh red. You caught a glimpse of spiked shoulders, of a steel grate obscuring a nonexistent face, and then, Prince was back – still smiling, still staring up at you. It might’ve felt more genuine if you hadn’t known what was lurking behind his eyes.
“Do you know,” He spoke slowly, carefully, no part of his expression ever-changing, “what would happen if you missed one of your treatments?”
You shook your head. It wasn’t like either Prince or your mother had ever gone out of their way to explain why you were sick, lest the stress of it all take a toll on your oh-so-fragile helath. “I... I might get sick? It can’t be worse than spending the rest of my life doing this.”
He chuckled, bowing his head, his lips coming to rest a hair’s width above the back of your hand. “You’ll die. You’ll wither and fade away, just like the world outside of this castle did. Just ike your mother.” This time, when his grip tightened around your hand, you couldn’t tell yourself it wasn’t deliberate. You couldn’t tell yourself that he didn’t see how quickly your shoulders stiffened, that he didn’t notice you try and fail to pull yourself out of his hold. “Do you understand?”
“Prince, I don’t want to—”
His thumb dug into the bone of your wrist, metallic fingertips burrowing into vulnerable flesh. You winced, and Prince’s grin widened. “Do you understand, princess?”
“Yes, I do, I— Please, let me go.” You were gasping, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as you fought to urge to pry yourself away from him. “I’m sorry, I understand – I’ll never ask again.”
He spared one more playful, bone-crushing squeeze before releasing you, letting you draw your hand back into your chest. He stood, taking up the syringe and its case before retreating back towards the clinic’s cabinets. You didn’t dare to move until he’d returned to your side, until you felt his hand on your shoulder. “I knew you wouldn’t be so cruel to me.” The words were muttered, barely audible. If there’d been anything else to hear, anything else in this castle save for you and Prince, you might’ve missed it. You wish you could’ve missed it. “Will you be tending to your garden this afternoon?”
You nodded, as if in a trance. Prince hummed in approval. “Would you care for an escort?”
“I…” You crossed your arms over your chest. Your wrist throbbed, but you didn’t know what to do about it. You weren’t used to this type of pain. “I think I’ll manage on my own.”
You cast your gaze downward, to the cot’s over-starched sheets. You waited until those dull, thudding footsteps were too distant to hear, until you could bring yourself to sigh, to shrink, to glance toward the reddened bruises forming along your wrist. You might’ve done more, if you’d known what to do. You might’ve cried if you hadn’t still been able to feel Prince’s eyes on you, unblinking and ever-present.
So, instead, you picked yourself up, let your hands fall to your sides, and – like you would tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that – started towards your garden.
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While the spicy story uploads, here’s a snippet of an old commission I just posted to Patreon! All tiers can view the full thing, and it’s in the style of the old Jealousy stories but done for the M!Theo/Viktor poly.
Your hands clench around your textbook as if you’re itching to throw it at this guy and run. The nephilim tightens his grip on your arm, making you visibly wince, and says something so quiet that Viktor can’t quite parse out the words.
The tone combined with your cringing back is more than enough to get the gist of things, however.
Theo moves with a low growl, fangs displayed with a snarl and sneer. Viktor follows close behind, and you look up and relax when you see them approach.
It makes him feel…warm. Warmer, he should say, since his anger quite literally already has his blood boiling. It’s a good feeling, nonetheless, to know you trust Theo and him like that.
“Okay, back off, dude.” Viktor says as the two approach, startling the guy enough to give you the opportunity to pull your arm free.
“Yeah, didn’t your parents teach you manners?” Theo cocks an eyebrow, smirking, “You don’t grab random people. That’s strike one.”
“This is my lab partner,” The guy sniffs, looking affronted as his wings ruffle in agitation, “And who are you to talk to me like that? A demon spawn and a wingless-?”
Theo doesn’t waste time on anymore words, grabbing the guy by the shoulder and shoving him up against the wall.
…
You can read the rest at any tier over on my Patreon!
Hi. I hope you are doing good. If your requests are open. Can you do a male one piece ship please. You can do whatever you like and be creative with this request.
Features: I am a short woman 4'10. Age 20. I have curly golden honey-blond hair which goes to my bra-strap length, I have dark chocolate brown eyes, and a little bit of chubbiness in my cheeks. I have a butterfly-shaped scar on my forehead which is from skin cancer from when I was 5-6 years old.
Name/Nickname: Madison, Matt, Papillon (Which means Butterfly in French), Piccolo Guerriero (Which means Little Warrior in Italian. I am part Italian and French on my mother's side.), Little Butterfly, Sunshine, and Little Rose.
Personality: I am a sweet, kind, loving, caring, stubborn, feisty when mad or irritated I will swear like a sailor, independent, hardworking, thinking outside the box, and creative, but if you mess with or hurt me, my family, friends, or loves I becomes scary scary.
If I was in one piece: I would be a woman that ran away from home when she was a teenager because of rough things going on at home and I decided to become a pirate because I want to travel the world and learn new things around my surroundings learning about multiple different types of plants around the world and make history.
My devil fruit power: Ice, (Yes I know I'm basing this off of Elsa from Frozen. Please don't judge me, I just think her powers are really cool. And yes I know a character for one piece that has the devil fruit ability of ice which is Aokiji. LOL.😄😂) Hie Hie no Mi devil fruit. When was four by accident, accidentally ate a devil fruit which is called The Hie Hie no Mi which gave her the ability the control ice and snow. She doesn't remember how she got her hand on one of those devil fruits. The only thing her mother told her was that she had accidentally tripped over her own feet and had accidentally bit into the fruit and swallowed a big chunk of it. Abilities - create and control ice and snow, Ice Creation, can melt or freeze anything she can touch with just a finger, Ice and Water Manipulation, and can Creation of things to come to life which is ice creatures to ice birds to ice monsters. Weakness - like all devil fruit devil fruit powers their weakness is seawater because they can't swim and they just sink to the bottom which all devil fruit users lose the ability to swim, when overwhelmed, childhood trauma, when emotions (emotions: scared, angry, sad, overwhelmed, stressed) become too high sometimes her can lose control of her powers, or scared she shuts people out and when she overuses her devil fruit powers starts to cough up blood fainting/passing out.
Wanted poster name: What the people call her on her wanted poster is "The Ice witch" and she is wanted about 800,000,000 berries/Dollars.
Likes/love to do: I love to drawing/painting, embroidery, reading (I am a bit of a bookworm), doing any type of math, loves plants/nature, and baking in my free time.
I don't like/afraid/scared of: afraid of Spiders, don't like people insulting or making fun of family/Love ones/Friends, and I don't like being yelled at because it scares me from past traumas and anxiety.
Style: I love to wear, off-the-shoulder shirts, leggings, jeans, button-up shirts, dresses, and once in a while a shirt with a long skirt. My home aesthetic is a mix between astronomy and witch. The only other thing is that I wear a heart-shaped ruby necklace around my neck which was a gift from my whole family. I never take it off.
Prompts: "what? What are you giving me that look for, hum?" "I love you. I know I don't say it enough __________. But I really do love you so much." "My brave (Nickname.)"
Hii! I hope you like it! <3 sorry it took a little while
Almost immedietely I knew who I shipped you with, I think it's perfect:
I ship you with Sanji!
Sanji is a hardcore romantic, and he is good at taking care of people. He would adore you, your spunk, personality, protective nature, and would think your devil fruit powers were amazing.
He would definitely call you (Little) Papillon, or a slightly more teasing 'My Ice Queen', rather than Witch (which he feels a bit hurtful saying towards you, even though your cool with the name).
He would love cooking for you, and even though he cooks for the whole crew, he always put a pit more effort into your plate in particular.
It was love at first sight for Sanji when he met you.
You came across the crew after you had moved on from the pirates you had been traveling with before.
You ended up getting tangled up with them when the Marines came after them.
They saw you and thought it would be a two-crews-for-one situation. But you were alone without a crew and Luffy, being Luffy, decided to help you out as well.
Sanji had heart eyes the second he set eyes on you, and the more time you spent with them the more he fell.
You ended up being the one who saved them (with your powers) and he and Sanji thought you would be a great addition to the crew.
You debated joining them, but in the end you did, because you couldn't quite figure it out, but you felt at ease with them.
Sanji was flirty towards you as soon as he could be. And you were more reserved than he expected, but he respected your boundaries and calmed down with his advances.
You grew close anyways, and your romantic feelings follows pretty easily.
Drabble Under Cut:
Close Call
The attack came out of no where, the ship approaching having been concealed in the fog surrounding you.
Nami began shouting commands as Zoro helped steer the ship out of range of the attacks. You and Luffy ran to the edge of the ship to try and see just who it was attacking you.
Sanji and Usopp emerged from below, panic on their faces as they tried to figure out what was going on.
As the large ship attacking you emerged from the fog, you half expected it to be the Marines. But instead, a pirate ship came rushing forward.
"Pirates!" You heard Usopp yell in despair as he gripped into a flag pole.
"Why are they attacking us?!" Luffy yelled in confusion.
"Because they're pirates!" You and Nami yelled in unison as you helped her adjust the cannons.
Firing at the ship did little as the pirates evaded your aim. Luffy threw some canon balls himself, managing to destroy part of their ship.
Hearing Sanji groan, you looked over to see him being thrown around as your ship was hit once again. Quickly rushing to your side, his arm was around your waist before he helped aim the canons with you and Nami.
Another canon ball hit your ship knocking you to the ground.
You let out a frustrated groan before deciding to do something yourself before you sank. Running to the back of the ship, you ducked as debris flew past you as another canon ball grazed the ship.
"What are you doing!" You heard Sanji yell in concern as he watched you.
His question was quickly answered when he saw sheer white encase your arms before spears of ice emerged from the ocean below, gliding towards the pirate ship. Large icicles pierce through their ship, bringing it to a sudden halt. Yells from their ship could be heard as you let out a soft sigh.
Your eyes widened in realization as they shot one more canon ball towards you. You began to run out of the way, but as the canon ball hit your ship, it exploded, knocking you off your feet.
Your vision swirled as you fell. You expected to hit the hard ship deck, but instead, you continued to fall, before suddenly you were surrounded by freezing cold water, swallowing you as you quickly sank.
You had been knocked over the edge of the ship by the blast, and Sanji's heart sank. He yelled out your name before he ran and dove over the edge of the ship without thinking.
His eyes struggled to adjust as he plunged into the water. But as he swam deeper, he spotted a figure in the darkness, sinking deeper and deeper. His heart raced as he swam as fast as he could towards you.
His eyes met yours just as you drifted into unconsciousness. His hands reached out, gripping you and pulling you into his chest as he quickly rose to the surface.
You coughed out the salty water as Zoro and Luffy helped pull you back onto the ship.
Sanji was at your side instantly, cradling your head as he told you to catch your breath. Luffy gently patted your back, knowing exactly what you just went through. The desperation of trying to swim when your body seemed as heavy as an anchor was both frightening and frustrating. The curse of the devil fruit.
"Did we get away?" You asked while catching your breath.
Luffy grinned and gripped your shoulder. "Yes! Thanks to you."
You smiled and nodded while Sanji helped you to your feet. "Come on sweet heart let's go get you dried off."
Looking back, you could see the smoking pirate ship in the distance, stuck in your ice. And there they would remain for a while, your ice would not be so easy to get rid of.
Resting on Sanji's bed as he rubbed a towel through your hair to help dry it, you caught his eye as he smiled down at you.
"My brave Little Butterfly." He muttered softly and you let out a soft laugh. He crouched down and met your eyes, "You scared me when you went over."
You smiled sadly at him, "I'm sorry."
He shook his head as he gently caressed your cheek. "I don't blame you for it, I just... was afraid of losing you is all."
Leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I wasn't afraid. I knew you would save me."
He shook his head with a soft smile before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Always will." Rising he placed the towel around your neck. "Finish getting dry, I'm gonna go get you some hot soup okay?"
You nodded as you watched him leave. You let out a soft sigh. You did lie a bit. You were scared; the water always scared you. But you recalled hearing Sanji's voice call out your name as you plummeted towards the ocean. And from that, you knew he would do whatever he could to get to you.
The sinking cold in your bones slowly faded away as you ate the soup Sanji made you. It's warmth coursed through you and slowly helped you feel better and better.
Looking over, you caught Sanji's eyes and your heart fluttered. He had his elbow on the table as he sat beside you, facing you. His head was resting in his hand as his eyes remained locked on you.
His gaze on you was both soft and intense. He seemed to be thinking a thousand things at once as he stared at you.
"What? What are you giving me that look for?" You smiled softly at him.
He smiled in return before he sat up straight and spoke. His voice was soft, full of emotion and genuine care. "I love you. I know I don't say it enough Papillon. But I really do love you so much."
Your heart fluttered in your chest again as warmth rushed through you. A grin slowly broke out on your face as you turned to face him. Reaching up, you placed both of your hands on his face as you looked into his eyes.
"I love you too Sanji. So much."
Grinning happily, he brought his hands to your face as well. You both giggled softly before he leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss to your lips.
The sudden battle you faced earlier faded from your thoughts as you focused solely on Sanji and the love you felt for each other.
Here is a little excerpt of a commission I did below the cut! Warning that it's full spice, very NSFW! Again, I've posted the full thing on Patreon since it's quite spicy. 🌶️
“Uh, um, ma’am?” The same man as before stands off to the side, the boxes stacked by his feet as he looks at you with cheeks stained bright red, “Your, uh, your dress-”
You realize what he’s talking about as Mari finally looks down at your body, his eyes widening. Your cream-colored dress is obviously soaked through, revealing the lace lingerie beneath. Only the lace lingerie, to be specific, because that’s all you put on in way of undergarments this morning.
Before you can do anything outside of fumbling for words, Marius has ripped the coat from his own shoulders and tossed it over you. He’s taller and broader, and the thick material is warming your wind-chilled, damp form quickly. You tug it tight around your front, hiding as much of yourself as possible while trying to scurry from the deckhand’s eyes. Mari notices, turning toward the man with a deadly glare.
“Get the fuck away from us.” He snaps, teeth bared in a deadly smile, “Or they’ll be fishing you from the water next.”
“Mr. De Klerk?” The man’s face whitens rapidly as he takes several quick steps back, “I swear, I didn’t mean to-”
“I couldn’t give any less of a fuck what you meant to do.” Mari says, his voice dark, “I did tell you to leave, however, and I would suggest you listen.”
The deckhand clearly doesn’t need another suggestion, as all present know it would likely involve a bullet. He scatters in seconds, abandoning the cargo he’d been carrying in favor of his life, and Mari turns to pull you close as if hiding you from the world.
“That was mean,” You chide.
“I’m mean,” He counters, “And I’m also not worried about that right now.”
You avoid his gaze, but he only shifts to maintain eye contact.
“I’m sorry,” You say, sheepish, “I know it was a waste of money.”
“I’m going to give you a pile of gold the size of your head,” He says, voice even and clear, “And you’re going to buy whatever lacy, silky items you like. Then, should I be so privileged, you’ll show me yourself in them.”
Freezing, you look at him, “But I-”
“If a single word of self-deprecation comes out of your mouth, I’ll have to find something to occupy it. You know I can’t stand lies.” He draws closer, his lips barely brushing your own, “Luckily, I know just the thing.”
You’re not sure who tilts forward first, but his lips are warm against yours. His hands move down your waist, brushing against his own coat as if he’s imagining the lace that lies beneath. He draws you closer until your bodies are flush from chest to thigh, and you feel his hardness against your hip.
You shudder slightly as you pull away. He watches you, eyes hungry, and you damn near have to press your knees together against the surge of heat that washes over you.
“We’re in public,” He mutters, pained.
You shift against him, making him close his eyes and bite off a moan.
“Then let’s not be in public anymore.” You say, kissing his neck, “My place is closer…um, if you can just ditch Kumar’s messenger like that, of course.”
“Fuck Kumar,” He hisses.
He says nothing else, only taking you by the hand and tugging you forward.
That’s how you both end up in your small apartment above the still-open bookstore. The owner waves at the both of you, blissfully unaware of your plans. You sheepishly wave back before dashing past the customers and heading up the stairs.
You’re stripped of his coat and your dress upon entrance, leaving only the damp lace to adorn your skin. He pushes you up against the wall, the kiss greedy and demanding; in the end, you can’t help the moan he rips out of you.
“Again,” He whispers, “Make that noise again. Let everyone know how good I make you feel.”
His hands drift south and you throw your head back obediently. You think of the customers downstairs, of the owner running the shop for the day, and the embarrassment that pools in your gut only worsens your arousal.
The fingers withdraw after a moment, leaving you to whine at the loss. Then he drops to his knees, hikes up your lacey little slip around your waist, and replaces the digits with that damned quick tongue of his.
...
The whole story, which is around 2.2k words, can be read on Patreon for the Archmage tier and up!
