Right, my writer’s block is fierce at the moment, so send me a request so that I can force myself to write something. It can be silly, or holiday based, or a crack fic!
My writing break is officially done! Going to work on my numerous wips over the next few weeks, and I’ll restart my fic recommendation blog, @xoxovivarecs .
So, I am still on a writing break, but with the horrid new changes Tumblr seems intent on rolling out, I thought it was better to say something now. If this change to notification does become permanent, I’m deleting this sideblog and my fic rec sideblog. There’s no point in posting fics here when they’ve killed the ability for writers and readers to talk to each other. This is a death knell for small fic blogs like mine.
If you want to continue reading my work, please follow me on AO3 at xoxoviva.
So, I am still on a writing break, but with the horrid new changes Tumblr seems intent on rolling out, I thought it was better to say something now. If this change to notification does become permanent, I’m deleting this sideblog and my fic rec sideblog. There’s no point in posting fics here when they’ve killed the ability for writers and readers to talk to each other. This is a death knell for small fic blogs like mine.
If you want to continue reading my work, please follow me on AO3 at xoxoviva.
An idea for a fic that I can’t write in full at the moment.
A modern AU fic of Gen Xer goth youtuber Emmrich (he has zero interest in learning tiktok) explaining how to make your house spooky, luxe, and cosy. He has exceptional taste, but his audience realises that a love story is slowly building in the background.
Emmrich casually mentions that he’s going on a date, so he does a little grwm bit in his video, with suggestions about choosing signature scents and his love of floriography. The comments wish him well/are horny.
Weeks go by, he doesn’t say anything else about it, but eagle eyed viewers notice *changes*. An antique tea set for two. Flowers in the background that aren’t his normal style. Tchotchkes that complement his space but no normal discussion of thrift/antique shopping.
But then, there are videos about making your home more welcoming for guests. He seems almost giddy when he speaks. When he creates bouquets, crafts, and book-based gifts, they’re clearly romantic in nature. Emmrich ignores all questions in the comments about it and the theories build.
After months of an even softer Emmrich, he becomes more open. Videos about buying his partner’s favourite tea blend. Going shopping together, but all that’s seen is a hand wave from the side. Obvious signs that someone else is living in Emmrich’s home- new clothes, books, accessories, a vintage bike.
After almost a year of this, a very special video is released- how to plan the perfect anniversary, ft the elusive partner, who smiles shyly as they speak to camera for the first time, with Emmrich beaming next to them.
Viewers can’t help but notice that they’re wearing matching rings…
(His instagram account is then populated with tooth rottingly sweet photos of them on dates or at the goth club- funnier if the partner is very much not a goth.)
His interior vibes (photos taken from helenagarciafp, casaardolino and bibleofbritishtaste on instagram).
Hey babe! 😘😘 wanna yap to me about any wips or ideas? Go crazy go stupid, I wanna hear it all 😌👂🏽
Heyyy! So some ideas!
I still want to do 80s goth rocker Loki so bad, but also maybe silver fox Loki. Like imagine Loki dressed like Dave Vanian…
I still want to do tattooist Eddie x bff! reader. And I’ve had an idea for years to do a dark priest! Stephen Strange where he befriends (and sacrifices) a sweet, pious follower…
For WIPs- I still need to finish my vampire Loki sequel, and my holiday ficlets 😭 I also need to finish a sex scene in this damn Steve Rogers fic already.
Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Minors, ageless, blank, & non-updated blogs will be blocked immediately.
Word count: 4,563 words
Plot: Loki and his witch companion get into some holiday mischief before Christmas! But will she make him the happiest monster in the mountains?
Warnings: Holiday fluffy smut- oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, making out, monsterfuckinggg, size kink (Loki is a big boi in every sense), Christmas orgy!!!
Notes: This story takes place in a 19th century Alpine village, and Loki is part Jotun, part Krampus. Krampusnacht and Christmas are 20 days apart, but for the purposes of this fic they occur close together. More sweet, fluffy monster smut for the holidays!
Soundtrack: Winter Weather by Squirrel Nut Zippers
When Loki asked you to move in with him, it wasn't much of a surprise. His hidden, ancient cottage with its gnarled walls and faerie magics had become more your home than your lonely alpine cabin, which was so carefully avoided by your fellow villagers. At least when you knocked briskly on his door, there was always someone on the other end who looked forward to seeing you.
The dread Yule lord Krampus—his true name known only to you and long dead spirits— had become your only friend and truest companion. These last two years had seen your winding paths merge, until the sadness of your previous existence became a distant dream, barely remembered.
It started, as most things did, in bed. Hiding from the day beneath quilted blankets, you nestled into Loki, your back pressed against the broad, hairy expanse of his chest. He held you close, his large, relaxed body keeping you warm. Your fingers slowly skated across his arm in lazy swirls.
“Liebling, I have something to ask you.”
You turned to look at him, surprised by the serious tenor in his voice. He seemed nervous, his dark red eyes wide as they searched yours for some hidden answer. His claws scraped the inside of his palm.
You placed a hand on his chest. “What is it, my love? You know that you can ask me anything.”
He gently grasped your hand, his fingers rubbing your skin. The gentleness of his touch always surprised you. It wasn't that he treated you as though you were made of delicate glass. It was that each soft touch was filled with wonder, as though he was experiencing you for the first time.
“Would you, that is to say-” He sighed and irritatedly huffed at his own hesitation. “I love you. I adore you little witch, please move into my home.”
“Oh Loki, this is so sudden, I don’t know what to say.” Your lips quirked. You chose not to mention that so many of your things were already here, sitting comfortably beside his.
“Say yes, elfchen. Your simple answer would soothe my anxious spirit.”
He looked so sincere that you couldn't help but chuckle, earning you a wounded look. “Of course, Loki, of course I will. How could I ever say no to you?”
He let out a delighted cry, hugging you as his tail thrashed and thumped in happiness. You nuzzled your noses together, sharing the same happy grin as your lips met. When you kissed, it was made all the sweeter that you would have countless mornings just like this one.
You pulled away, looking at him thoughtfully. Hooded eyes gazed back at you, ever patient. He intended to have you, to celebrate between your thighs. But he could wait.
"When shall I move in, my love?"
"I was hoping on Yule, once I have completed my, er, responsibilities with Saint Nicholas. I shall feel calmer then."
You nodded in understanding, running your hand across his sharp, ridged cheek. "I have a request for you, before our lives become one."
"Anything."
"My village made my entire life a misery. I'd like to repay them in kind before I leave."
Loki moved closer, raising a thick, dark eyebrow. This sounded promising. "Oh? And how shall we repay them, liebling?"
Your devious smile matched his own. He'd once offered to destroy your village, to harm the people who'd brought you to his cabin with tears in your eyes on so many occasions. How many times had he held you when you cried, his heart breaking with every shuddered sob? It was intolerable. Unforgivable.
You returned to his embrace, kissing away his murderous thoughts. "I'd like to play some Yuletide tricks on my neighbours. Something that they'll never forget. And I'll need your help for a most spectacular farewell, if you don't mind."
Loki's sharp teeth gleamed as his warm laugh filled the room, his eyes crinkling with mirth. The winter sunlight caressed the curves of his face, as a halo of light appeared around his curls. Your breath caught in your throat. He was beautiful.
He pressed his hand firmly on his chest. "My lovely witch, I'd be honoured to help you spread mischief. And I may know some other spirits who are only too happy to help."
Before you could respond, he was on top of you, pinning you to the large bed. You sank happily into the downy mattress as his weight pressed on top of you. With a satisfied smirk, he shifted downward. Cool breaths puffed over your breasts as Loki spoke, his low voice rumbling through you. It felt like the forest outside, deep, unmovable, and eternal. It grounded you when he spoke so intimately.
"Tell me of your trickery, my love. As you speak, I shall show you how happy you've made me, until you beg me to cease. And I will make sure that you beg."
As his tongue sought out the familiar bliss of your hardened nipples, you told him your plan amidst gasps, soft laughs, and cries of pleasure. You spoke until all ideas of future mischief floated away, forgotten, into the chilled morning air.
Loki was true to his word, despite the rising stress of the impending Krampusnacht. Creating mayhem helped him to feel like his old self, before his shameful defeat. He travelled to the land of the fair folk to request the help from kindred spirits, the Yule Lads. A strange, wild group of thirteen brothers, they were excited to spread chaos across a new land.
Loki's lack of detailed rules, delivered with a sharp smile and nonchalant drawl, filled the brothers' hearts with malicious glee. He was giving them permission to do whatever they wished, though he did have one important rule, one that couldn't be broken without lethal consequences. His eyes flashed when he told them, his dark mouth curling into a deep frown.
Loki's voice echoed around the trees, reminding all of who he used to be, who he remained, not just a spirit, but a god. No one in the village could be injured or killed, especially the children. He didn't particularly care about the adults' well-being, but knew that you would, despite everything. And in this land, his command remained everlasting law.
As the winter solstice neared, your village became beset with strange occurrences. The sheep's loud, panicked bleating as dawn drenched the sky was the first sign that something was wrong. Farmers leapt out of bed and ran half dressed to their pastures holding makeshift weapons. They were greeted by cowering sheep with rude symbols sheared into their wool.
When mothers and wives went to fetch milk for breakfast, they received a new shock. Their cows' udders were already spent, the milk vanished or sitting spoiled in a bucket. They went to their friends and neighbours, only to discover that every dairy farmer suffered the same mysterious loss. Breakfast became a sad affair as villagers ate only dried meats and bread, their disquiet growing. By the time the market opened, with some stalls conspicuously empty, the air was tense.
Whatever was happening was deeply unnatural.
It didn't take long for trouble to enter their homes. People returned from a hard day's work in the fields and mountains to find pots and pans missing from their fireplaces and tables. Forks and spoons soon followed, only for everything to reappear in strange places—barns, bushes, and under beds. You could hear the faint swears of villagers every time you went out for wood. You thought it sweet that Loki had saved you the trouble of using your magic for this level of trickery.
Food made for breakfast and dinner disappeared as soon as heads turned. Pies vanished from windows in the space of a blink. Children swore that they briefly saw the face of a strange being staring through their windows, only to vanish with a cheeky wave.
After a couple weeks of growing confusion and anger, the village slowly went dark. With dawning horror, the villagers realised that their candles were being stolen. For the first time, they felt vulnerable in the encroaching dark, a sudden, visceral reminder that they too were animals in the mountainous forest. Replacements couldn't be made fast enough.
Nights became a source of deep fear for everyone in the village. Everyone except you. For you were a witch, and comfortable in the long nights, with or without your dread companion.
Then amidst this strange haunting, the worst came. Doors began slamming in the dead of night, all across the village. Families were wrenched from deep slumber as the long claws of bitter cold welcomed winter in. Unable to make any light, they could only cower together in their beds as unnatural laughs filled the air. It was strange and cruel, a high barking laugh that was almost a roar. It grew louder and louder, filling each home, until it tumbled into the streets and the fields. The roar became a fearsome wailing shriek that made the villagers double over in pain, covering their ears, pleading to God to make it all stop.
But then it stopped instantly, leaving only the loud silence of the night.
They blamed you, as expected. You were used to their dark looks, their curses and insults. You were used to the collection of figures left outside your door that was meant to cast you out. Normally it wounded you in ways that wedged hurt into your muscle and bone. But not anymore. You were done with this village.
Their ire abated only slightly once you told them that your things were missing, that strange, frightful things happened in the night, a tremble making its way into each hushed word. They still glanced at you with suspicion, but at least you didn't have to worry about being stoned in the market while buying vegetables.
You waited until you were safely home before laughing with the wild delight of a naughty child, smiling uncontrollably between giggles. Loki's friends had done better than you'd dare hoped, with your assistance. You thought that your nocturnal screaming spell was a stroke of genius. For once, you took pleasure in being as wicked as they imagined you to be. Let them be as frightened as you had been for years. Let them understand the terror of feeling small. This wasn't simply revenge, this was a lesson.
The mischief lasted for three weeks, to the fear and aggravation of every villager. Normal Christmas traditions went ignored this year. There was no lighting of the church candles, no Pechtenlauf to chase away evil spirits. They were already here.
When Loki had time, he'd appear under the cover of night to collect more of your things and hear your latest wicked tale. On those nights, he appeared more like a man, though the low light revealed his ridged blue skin and bright red eyes. You missed his horns, but they would have destroyed the ceiling as they scraped along the wood. He cut an odd figure, but you couldn't help but hug and kiss him, speaking soft I love yous into his pointed ears.
Everything stopped a few days before Christmas, on Krampusnacht. Dread hung over the village, despite the sudden return to normalcy. The villagers worried for their children, and this felt like a brief respite before some new unknown horror. There were no cries of children playing outside or the normal sight of bundled up children doing their chores.
When you went outside, you only saw a few young children, all watched carefully by their parents. Any impropriety earned a swift slap and scolding, followed by a fearful glance around. They couldn't risk Krampus' wrath, not tonight of all nights.
That night, the village was silent. The moon sat bright and high in the sky, lighting the way. The last candles had all been blown out, save for one. You puttered around in your small cabin, finishing a small gift as you packed your last bundle. It was almost time.
You opened your door, leaving a small cauldron and a hearty slice of gingerbread in front of your door. It wasn't the customary schnapps, but a fortifying glühwein, Loki's favourite. Once you were done, you blew out your candles and waited in the dark.
Saint Nicholas marched out of the forest's shadows to the edges of the village. He was a large, burly man with a proud bearing and a worn, stern face. His curling, snow white beard and hair gleamed with an unearthly radiance. His long robes were a rich wine red and trimmed with thick fur. He held a tall, curved staff in one hand, and large, heavy chains in the other.
He jerked the chains sharply. Loki stumbled into view, glaring balefully at his captor. He straightened his shoulders and stood at his full height, attempting to regain his dignity. Nicholas gestured towards the village, urging Loki on. With a quiet exhale, Loki began to walk.
Loki stalked into the village, not as the impish spirit of the woods, but as the fearsome demon Krampus. His hooves made the earth tremble. A deep growl rose from his throat as his lips curled into a snarl. His inhuman tongue lolled out of his mouth, transforming his face into a dreadful mask. The night air was pierced by the discordant chorus of his chains rattling on the snowy ground behind him, coupled with the loud, steady drag of his rod. His unblinking eyes glowed a hellish red as his sharp claws flexed and cracked.
He was terrifying to behold.
Loki's head turned with eerie slowness as his magic sought out his victims for the night. He glanced at your cabin, as though compelled by some unseen force. His eyes widened when he noticed the items left on the step. He moved closer and picked up the mulled wine, looking into the window.
You waved at him, pressing your hand against the icy glass. Your lopsided smile was belied by your knotted brow and the tight line of your lips. You tried, and failed, not to grimace. How dare Nicholas treat him this way, like he was a common beast! You knew that this had to happen, but it was painful to see such a proud man forced into such misery.
Your voice was muffled, but he heard you clearly. "I love you, schatz. Eat, please keep your spirits up."
A clawed hand met yours. For only a moment, Loki looked like his normal self, his smile tender, his eyes once again soft and tired. Your beloved companion. But then he turned away, composing himself. He gulped down the wine and bread and vanished. You brought in your cauldron and plate, glimpsing St Nicholas as he walked by, his gaze remaining straight ahead. With one last look out the window, you sighed and went to bed.
Loki was in brighter spirits on Christmas Eve. He spent the day with you, clearing the last of your life in the cabin until all you were left with were wooden walls and a few things for dinner. He'd transformed once more, into a human. He wanted to celebrate your last night in this village, and your last trick, by making you a feast.
It was strange seeing him in human form. His skin, normally the muted blue of a wintry sky, had become smooth and oddly pale. His eyes, which had always captivated you, were emerald instead of ruby. He was still very tall, but not inhumanly so. He even had feet! All aspects of faerie had been disguised, including his manacles.
No longer did you see Loki the god. In his place was Loki in the finery of a nobleman, so markedly different from your small village.
"Do you enjoy this form, little witch?"
You took his arm in yours. "I'll always admire whatever form you choose. Though I prefer your horns and hooves. And how sweetly you wag your tail."
"Impudent mortal!" he huffed. He gathered you in a tight hug and kissed you until you were breathless with laughter.
He fetched your cloak and placed it around your shoulders. "Come, liebling. I will need your help procuring ingredients at your human market."
It was a wondrous day. For the first time since your youth, you weren't alone in your village. Shocked looks followed you and Loki throughout the day, but all words were halted by an imperious sidelong glance by Loki. You both walked hand in hand, with haughty smiles. You both knew that whatever the future held, you had won. You were together, and no hardship could change that.
Cooking with Loki was one of your favourite activities, and tonight was no different. Even though your cabin was now empty, his warm laughs and conversation made it finally feel like home. After your delicious feast, you and Loki continues to talk and drink through the night, until the right moment came.
In the dead of night, you both crept out to prepare for your final trick. You painted magical symbols on every door, including the church, and cast a spell. The veil was so thin on Christmas, and it was time for the spirits of the wood to join in on the fun. Once you finished, you kissed each other goodnight. Only a few hours more until the start of domestic bliss.
You woke up on Christmas Day to pandemonium.
You rushed to your window, your heart hammering in anticipation. Spirits ran riot around the village. House pucks raced goats down the streets, red capped gnomes pulled the hair of anyone unlucky enough to open their front door. Masked spirits played strange instruments while animal-headed spirits from the mountains merrily danced and sang. As the night sky retreated, a more surprises were revealed. Mistletoe, rowan, and holly were hung on every surface, with little offerings left everywhere for the spirits. In the centre of the village was a strange altar, covered in furs and more yuletide greenery.
Sharp raps sounded on the door. When you answered, spirit maidens poured in. You saw horrified villagers being pulled out of their homes and forced to dance in various states of dress.
"The king arrives, you must prepare!"
"Prepare? What do you mean?"
Your brow knotted in confusion. The plan was clear, Loki was meant to appear as apparition to curse the village, then you'd both sneak off amidst the panic.
The maidens ignored you, dragging you off with them. They bathed you and dressed you in sheer gossamer robes that revealed your body. They placed soft silk slippers on your feet and bells around your ankles. They styled your hair into two large braids. Your lips were stained with berries, and a gold mixture was spread on your eyelids. They finished with a holly crown and branches that resembled antlers.
What did that old goat have planned?
"She is ready!" the maidens said in unison, their voices shimmering around you. "The king arrives!" They pulled you out the door.
The village was now teeming with spirits and fae. Villagers that noticed you froze in shock at your pagan appearance. You should have been freezing, but it felt like a summer's day. You turned back to the maidens, but they urged you forward, towards the stone altar. Each step made the bells tinkle. Flowers and mushrooms sprouted around you as you walked. The villagers looked in horror as your crown twinkled with false starlight.
As you walked, you saw a mist gather on the ground around you. When you reached the altar, the mist shifted and changed. Loki emerged from it, resplendent. A golden holly crown rested on his dark head. His horns were adorned with golden ribbons, ivy and mistletoe, which extended into the waves of his hair. He was back to himself. His red eyes were highlighted in charcoal, his smile lazy and knowing. You laughed when you saw the bow tied on his tail. He wore a long, velvet robe in a deep forest green.
As he walked towards you, a woman behind you screamed and fainted. Parents rushed their children inside, covering their eyes. All around you were cries and curses.
Devil! The witch consorts with evil! We're doomed! Call the priest!
"Yes, call the priest!" Loki said sharply. "Let him join our celebrations! For I am the Lord of Misrule, and this will be a day of revelry! Give in to temptation, mortals, your lord demands it!"
Loki's voice was seductive as he stood on the altar. He extended an arm for you to join him.
"You're naked," you said with an amused smile.
"Utterly untrue, have you not seen my glorious robe?" he said with a smirk.
"I may have been too focused on something else that's rather glorious."
"Oh elfchen, thank you for noticing."
You both looked around as the merrymaking increased. The spirits were now carousing and becoming more lusty.
"This wasn't what we discussed, my love."
Loki looked at you, his eyes solemn. "Are you displeased?"
You kissed him, savouring the public display. "No, it's wonderful."
He smiled brightly, untying the bow from his tail and wrapping it around your wrists. "Amidst my fellows of the forest, as lord of this day, I name you mine, and I am yours."
He spoke loudly, his voice booming in every home and tree. "She is hereby protected by me and this forest. No harm shall befall her or any witch in this village hereafter! So it is spoken!"
"So it is spoken!" The spirits called out, cheering. They lifted some villagers and danced around, throwing them up into the air.
Tears welled in your eyes. "Loki, you didn't have to—this is all so lovely—I- I don't know what to say!"
He clasped your bound hands. "Say only that you love me. That is all that I ever need."
"I love you, darling. I want everyone to hear it!"
Loki kissed away your tears, laying you down amidst the furs. He gazed into your eyes, and all you saw was devotion. You were safe with him, always.
"Shall I finalise our union in the way of my people?"
Your smile was joyful. "Let's show them that we belong together."
Nothing else was said. Loki pushed your bound arms above your head. He pulled your trembling hips up, spreading your legs apart. The spirits cheered and called out lewd suggestions as you wrapped your legs around his waist. This was the final shedding of your past life.
You both grunted as his heavy, ridged cock slowly entered you. Even after two years, you still felt as though he might break you. He panted like an animal as your cunt guided him home. With one arm he held you against him, as the other arm grabbed the edge of the altar. This wasn't a show. He wanted both of you to experience bliss.
Loki fucked his feelings into you—his love, his excitement, his everlasting wonder. You took it all until your head fell back and your spend made his dick glisten. The spirits took his lead, their moans and cries filling the air above the ghostly music and songs. Yule was their time, and their king had returned with a queen. It was a joyous occasion.
He whispered magic into your ear, a spell to give you strength, because he intended to have you for the rest of the morning. That was his way. He couldn't let you go, not when you looked so beautiful, not when you loved him so freely.
And so he had you, again and again, until you felt as one, your hearts hammering in tandem, your breaths giving each other life. It felt special to share this intimacy between your two worlds. As your hands loosened from their bonds, you grabbed his horns, swallowing his whimpers with a searing kiss. His spend leaked from you, and still he continued to fill you up, pushing it back into you with every hard thrust.
"Taste me, my love," you commanded, and he obeyed instantly, as he had countless times before. He pulled out only to fill you once more with his tongue, his hazy eyes filled with a drunkenness only your body could cause. Loki's dick was still heavy with lust as it rutted against the altar. Your back arched as each deep, expert flick of his tongue stroked your spot. Pleasure raced down your spine, making your toes curl as you came.
Only then did the spirits and fair folk gather to feast on their king and queen, as the Day of Misrule demanded. You and Loki serviced them, as was custom. Some were sweetly hesitant, simply kissing and fondling, while others were rough and mischievous, making a game out of how many holes they could stuff at once. You held Loki's hands as you were pushed and stretched into new positions, laughing giddily at the outrageousness of it all.
You sighed with pleasure as the spirit maidens explored you with their tongues, and moaned in appreciation at the delicious heat of their cunts and cocks. You and Loki kissed as you were claimed by the spirits, sometimes by many creatures at once. For a day, the revellers all sought release indiscriminately, urging each other on with grunts, moans, cries, and pleas of yes, hurry, there- oh!
A deep stirring of something wild gathered within you as you watched Loki being fucked by spirits large and small. Unashamedly he let himself be used, his lids half closed as his tongue fell from panting lips, which were soon used by another. He was so unafraid to be witnessed. And so you let yourself be seen in return as you submitted to every primal desire.
You hadn't realised how different fae bodies could be, how strange and fascinating. You wanted to please them, just like Loki had done for you during your first Christmas together. So many humans feared them, considering them ugly or evil, but in this moment, all you could see was their beauty, the endurance of their spirits.
They were a part of the forest that had sustained this village, and now you wanted them to find nourishment in your body. As you gave into carnality, it felt ceremonial, something sacred and magical.
Only a short time ago, you had been so alone, with most paramours viewing you as a shameful secret or a means to an end, worse than a harlot. It had never occurred to you that things could be different, that life was waiting for you, one filled with so much possibility. You never thought that you were deserving of such a wild, grand Christmas gift, one that celebrated you.
As the afternoon waned, the forest folk left the village, carrying you and Loki above them. The procession moved through the forest, still celebrating as they took you to your new home. You became the Witch of the Woods, never again returning to that cruel village. And when anyone spoke of your fearful power, in the same breath they whispered that you were protected by the dread Yule Lord that stalked the woods. The unholy companions that had cursed their land with monsters.
You supposed, in a way, that you had been captured by Krampus after all. And it was marvellous.
Krampus Loki x witch! reader (explicit): Loki and the reader get up to some mischief on Christmas Day.
Thunderbuns Thor x reader (fluff): The couple try to make decorations but keep getting interrupted.
Kas! Eddie Munson x Sinclair! reader (explicit): Eddie and his band are putting on a charity xmas show, but Eddie needs a release to calm his nerves.
Stephen Strange x superhero! oc (fluff): Hellebore and Stephen try to decorate the Sanctum Sanctorum, but all their Christmas things have mysteriously vanished!
It’s time for the annual holiday fic request! I’m doing a longer xmas fic for Krampus Loki, so let me know who else should get an xmas fic this year. The top two choices will get little fics!
Well, there we have it! My favourite undead nerd Eddie Munson took the lead! But Stephen and Thor have tied, so there will be three xmas drabbles instead of two!
Pairing: Corrupted dark! Stephen Strange x apprentice black reader
Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Minors, ageless, blank, & non-updated blogs will be blocked immediately.
Word count: 6,354 words
Plot: An apprentice seeks out Stephen Strange on a dead world so that he can help her save theirs. But what will happen to her when she discovers that he’s been corrupted by the Darkhold? And will she survive the encounter?
Warnings: Dead dove do not eat. For 18+ readers, this fic contains dark subjects. Swearing, corruption, continual body horror, violence, kidnapping, graphic rape/non-con sex, threat of possession, threat of rape, humiliation and degradation, loss of bodily autonomy, disassociation, dark magic. Please heed the warnings and do not read if this triggers you.
Notes: This is a revised version of a fic I wrote years ago.
This is based in the Multiverse of Madness universe, though it is canon divergent. Also known as 'can I make Stephen worse than Wanda?' I saw the souls of the damned and immediately had thots. As always, a blend of film and comics.
More than a day had passed. Much too long for her teacher to have remained away. A friend had relayed the horrible news in hushed tones— Kamar-Taj had been breached. Many were dead and even more injured, all by the hand of a woman once considered a hero.
Everyone needed her help- Wong, the child from another world. If they were still alive. She couldn’t guard the Sanctum against her enemies, she was still much too inexperienced.
She trawled the books in the forbidden section. Wong wasn’t there to tell her no, and she thought that he would make a rare exception in this case. She couldn’t ride the eddies of magic through the multiverse, but she could adhere a spell to her teacher, the former Sorcerer Supreme.
She sat at a desk in the library, a stack of books in front of her. A ball of fur rubbed itself against her hand. She peered underneath the table.
“Hullo Morrigan, you silly old thing.” Gold and green eyes peered up at her. She mreowed softly in greeting. She wasn't sure what Morrigan really was, but she pretended to be a Russian Blue and it suited them both.
The apprentice stroked her soft grey fur as she purred contentedly. “Stephen’s missing and Wong’s in danger. I think that it’s up to me to save the day.”
Morrigan looked at her in concern. The apprentice tilted her head, her lips pursing. “Yeah, I’m not happy about it either.”
She stood and moved into Stephen’s study, Morrigan padding behind, meowing her concerns. Sitting in his worn out armchair, she opened her book. It was odd being in his space without him bustling around. It felt as though she were doing something too intimate.
She wove her spell using his favourite teacup, still filled with the dredges of tea leaves. This would do. Part location spell, part attachment spell. She called on the Vishanti to assist her in finding their champion.
The cup wobbled and jerked around in the air before splitting. The shattered remnants remained frozen for only a moment, transforming into the outline of a stern face.
“The path is dangerous, mortal. You may not return. Are you sure that you still seek our champion?”
The voice was deep and sounded from every corner of the room. Even the creatures that lurked in the shadows skittered away.
She bowed in the presence of Agamotto. “Yes, Great Teacher, I must. For the sake of our universe.”
“Then it will be done.” The cup pieces clattered to the floor. A rip in space opened in front of her, lighting the way forward.
She looked at her pet, knowing that she could understand her perfectly. “Take care of the Sanctum while I’m gone, Morrigan. Don’t let anyone in.”
She nodded and rubbed her head against her legs.
She smiled softly. “Love you too, girl.”
The apprentice grabbed a few magical weapons and looked around the warmly-lit Sanctum, her home. She shut her eyes and gathered her strength. She would find him and help him to save the day, that was her duty.
———
The sky was a dark, tumultuous grey. She looked in horror at the scene around her. Everything was awry, with buildings and streets leading towards nothingness, perched at odd angles. This universe was collapsing in on itself, the very fabric of creation unraveling. She stifled a sob as she looked at everything slowly disintegrating into an inky haze of nothingness above.
“By the hoary hosts,” she whispered. “Gods, please keep me safe.”
There were no people, no animals, no creatures to fill the space. She hoped for their sake that they were dead. Anything else was too horrific to imagine.
She walked down the street carefully, trying to decide what to do— what Stephen would do. Bands of lights flashed around the roads as she walked. The memory of the vehicles that once drove these streets. Or perhaps they’re people trapped within the layers of a decaying realm, unable to stop, unable to rest, she thought darkly.
She walked towards where the Sanctum should be, though the geography of this world was less secure. Stephen would have gone there, attempting to use the magic within the Sanctum to come home. She felt sure of it, it seemed the most practical solution.
It was eerily silent. A New York without any sounds of the city. All she could hear was the quiet lapping of the waves. The Brooklyn Bridge rose in front of her, blackened and wrenched apart like a decaying corpse.
She shouldn’t be this close to the water.
She walked through brackish, pungent sea. She thought vaguely that this would destroy her leather boots. The Sanctum emerged from the fog, a house of horrors. There was nothing surrounding it, only a sinister emptiness.
Everything within her shouted to return home and never look back. Her steps faltered. She balled her hands into fists and wiped the tears from her eyes. She had to save him, it was the only way to save everyone else.
She walked up to the house, noticing something on the spiked fence. No- someone. Her breath left her. She ran towards the iron gates, so unlike the openness of her own Sanctum.
She cried when she saw him clearly. Her sorcerer, her teacher, impaled on the gates. A sharpened spike rose from his ruined chest. His body was already decaying, rising in the same inky mist. She was too late.
“Oh Stephen, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” She stopped her hushed apology, looking closer. The corpse had three sightless eyes. It looked older than her sorcerer. The clothes were different, the hair and beard unkempt. This wasn’t Stephen from her realm.
Her tears began to fall again, this time in relief. There was still a chance.
She looked up at the Sanctum, so forlorn in its solitude. The cheerful white stone and red brick of her world was the same miserable grey as everything else in this hellscape. She couldn’t see the dark figure in the window above looking back at her.
She walked to the door, hesitating. Instead of the warm, sturdy oak she was used to, it was instead two imposing, ornate doors. The iron doorknockers were grotesque demons.
She looked back at the variant’s corpse. She knew in her bones that this Strange was involved in something forbidden. Did he cause this? And if he was dead, where was her Strange?
She pushed open the doors, shoving against them with her shoulder. Water poured down the stairs, pooling on the ground below.
The doors swung open.
The Sanctum was an empty shell. The calming warmth of the foyer was gone. There was only a terrible, unending grey sea. She wondered if this was the Hudson, slowly pushing inland. The home’s grand staircase rose into a thick fog, obscuring where the next floor began, if there was another floor.
She took the axe from her holster and gripped it tightly, trying to find comfort in the sigil-covered handle. Even if she were still a novice, she could fight her way through trouble.
She began her ascent, praying to all the gods that she would leave this dreadful house soon.
———
This was Stephen’s study, or a version of it. Broken instruments littered the floor. She peered around cautiously. No creatures moved through the shadows, there was no steady thrum of magic underneath the hushed movements of apprentices and other sorcerers. It was as silent as a crypt.
The decay was worse here. The large glass window with the Vishanti’s symbol was cracked and broken. Is this where the variant was pushed? The apprentice couldn’t see the hellscape outside, only a swirling void that beckoned her near. She quickly turned away.
“Stephen?” she whispered urgently as she moved to a small corner staircase. She raised her voice slightly. “Strange!”
She shrieked when a shadowed figure appeared on the stairs. She raised her axe in a way she hoped was menacing.
“Kid?” Stephen floated down, his trusty cloak still around his shoulders. She lowered the weapon as a smile spread on her face.
“Stephen!” She ignored her usual formality, throwing her arms around him as she hugged him tightly. “I thought- I thought the worst. I’m so glad you’re alright.”
He held her carefully, rubbing her back. “I’m fine. I had a run-in with myself, we didn’t see eye to eye.”
She shuddered, thinking about the corpse outside. She stepped away from him, looking him over. He had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing too worrying.
“We need to leave immediately. Wanda has Wong and the child. They’re in danger. Kamar-Taj has fallen-”
“I know, I was there when it happened.”
She looked at him in sorrow, to have witnessed such horrors must have been harrowing. “I’m so sorry. The Vishanti have granted us passage back to our universe, they led me here to you. We have to hurry, there might be other dangers lurking here.”
“Don’t worry, my apprentice. We’re quite alone here.”
She looked at him with growing concern. “How can you be so sure, Doctor?”
He gazed at her with amused eyes. He usually only looked at her like that when she missed something obvious.
“I’ve killed the only two people left in this world.”
She gripped the axe tightly, her eyes never leaving his. There was only one body. “What do you mean, two? Were there two versions of you?”
He moved past her, looking out at the void. He stood in front of the window, his back turned.
“Christine. She followed me here.”
Her hand flew to her mouth in shock. “C-Christine? But you just went to her wedding!”
“No, no, that Christine is fine. This was a Christine from another universe. She helped me to understand something.” His deep voice was cold.
This was wrong, completely wrong. This couldn’t be her sorcerer. He wouldn't do that. She slowly moved back towards the main stairs, a spell dancing around her fingertips. “And what was that?”
He turned around, his face calm. “She made me realise that regardless of the universe, I can’t change. I remain unhappy and lonely. But worst of all, I'm not a good man. My presence always brings pain.”
The apprentice looked at him fearfully. He was holding an old book. She could feel the darkness emanating from its pages.
She frowned at him. “What the hell is that thing? Wh-what’s wrong with your hands, Stephen?”
He held it up. “Oh, this? This was my way out of this universe. It’s called the Darkhold. This is what Wanda was using to reach her fictional children.” He looked at his hands. “The other me said that using this book exacts a terrible price.”
She winced. Is that why he killed him? “Tell me that you didn’t use it.”
“I had to! It was the only way to get back to our world, to save the girl!” He stumbled towards her, his face a mask of pain. “I tried to save America, I tried. She was a good kid.”
She moved back with her hands held out in front of her, unsure whether it was to soothe him or keep him away. She spoke in a careful, placating tone. “It wasn’t your fault, Wanda was unhinged.”
He laughed, the sound brittle. “That’s where you’re wrong. I took America’s power. She couldn’t harness it. I had to kill her. And then I killed Wanda for putting me in that position.”
“And Wong?” she asked quietly, trying not to cry for her other teacher, for a lost child.
Stephen looked scandalised. “I would never hurt Wong. He’s simply- indisposed at the moment. For his own good. I need to become Sorcerer Supreme again. It was foretold by the Ancient One.”
He smiled and it was unnatural, calculated. His eyes flashed violet so quickly that she couldn’t be sure that she saw it. “When I gain enough power, I’ll be able to make things right. I’ll show the world that I can be better than my other selves. Where they were weak, I’ll be strong, I’ll be in control.”
The apprentice gestured wildly, her voice rising. “Listen to yourself, this is insanity! You’ve killed people, that goes against everything you stand for!” Her eyes flickered once more to his hands. “It’s the book, Stephen, it’s affecting you somehow. Please, put it down.”
“Only if you stop whatever spell you’re casting.” He looked at her pointedly, his large brows drawn over cold eyes. For the first time he looked cruel. It was now or never.
“Munnopor, confound his sight!” she cried, casting her spell. The broken room became filled with a golden mist.
She ran down the impossible stairs as Stephen’s snarling voice surrounded her, calling her name. She didn’t look back, didn’t stop moving.
Her breaths were ragged as she reached the heavy doors. She threw them open and tried not to look at the corpse of the other Stephen.
Until it moved.
Her steps became heavy. She felt frozen in place as she watched the body turn towards her. This broke every rule of magic. This was a desecration.
Cloudy, unseeing eyes stared at her. The corpse tried to claw its way off the spiked fence. Its laugh rattled in its rotting throat, thick and heavy with decay. She felt sick at the sound.
“Did you really think that you could escape me so easily, my apprentice?”
With a yell, she swung her axe over the body, decapitating the other Stephen. His head rolled towards her, leaving a dark trail of effluence. It was still laughing as it stilled.
She felt a sudden chill run down her back, as though someone was running a finger across her skin. She turned slowly, fear coursing painfully through her body.
They latched onto her before she could see them. The damned souls from Stephen’s book jeered and mocked her tears as they held fast. She screamed and kicked as they dragged her back into the Sanctum. She clawed at the wet ground helplessly, gaining no traction in the slippery mud. She watched as her escape route vanished with the slam of the doors.
She was trapped.
The spirits wrenched her back to Stephen, each sharp jolt up the stairs painful. They placed her in front of the window, holding her body still. Their touch chilled her soul.
“Hello again. While I’m proud of your improving spellcraft, I am very displeased that you chose to use it on me.”
“Stephen, please, don’t hurt me.” Her voice was small and hoarse from screaming.
He watched her from a glowing casting circle, his expression soft. It filled her with revulsion. “My dear, I wouldn’t harm you.”
He opened the Darkhold and brought forth sickly red orbs. She could faintly hear her own voice, happy and laughing. “I’ve viewed countless other universes, and in some of them we’re together. We’re happy.”
He drifted towards her. “I’ve already attained power. But I tire of being alone, of putting the world above my needs. I crave love. You would make the perfect companion, I see that now.”
“Stephen, that book is affecting your mind. Let me and Wong help you!” She struggled, but the spirits scraped their claws against her skin. She sobbed in pain.
He stood in front of her as dark shadows grew across his stark features. Blackened hands caressed her face. “Be mine, my dear. The things I can teach you. We can reshape the world, do such good things.”
A third eye appeared on his forehead. She bit back a scream. He kissed her roughly, his touch hungry. Tears rolled down her face.
When he finished, he smiled at her with half-lidded eyes. “You taste so sweet. Can’t you feel that there’s something between us?”
The apprentice shook her head, not looking at him. “We’re teacher and apprentice, Stephen. That’s allthat we are. I just want to go home, don’t do this.”
His smile was lecherous. “Fine, my dear. If you want to abide by such strict roles. It is tradition that you bow before me.”
She looked up sharply. “What? We’re equals, that’s what you’ve always said.” The old Strange knew this, he would have never made such a demand.
His smile twisted into something almost resembling fondness. “That’s my girl, such a dutiful student. You’re exactly what I need.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out a small, dark phial. He removed the stopper. The cloying smell of honey surrounded her. “Here, drink this. It will heal your injuries.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. Who knew what was in that thing?
Frustration clouded his features. “Don’t force me to make you drink it, that will be much worse for you.”
“Stephen, please.” Her voice was a forlorn whisper. “I wanted to save you.”
He chuckled softly, stroking her wet cheek. “And you have, my dear. You will make a fine sorcerer, and a wonderful companion.”
A spirit forced her head back. Stephen held her face, keeping her mouth open. He poured the liquid down her throat, smiling contentedly as she coughed and sputtered.
“See, not so bad. I’m sorry that my bedside manner isn’t up to my usual standards, but needs must. I’m going to let you down now.”
She looked at him with suspicion. “Aren’t you afraid that I’m going to cast another spell, or run away again?”
He laughed as the spirits vanished, dropping her heavily to the ground. “Not at all.”
She stood up, readying herself to flee. But the room became unsteady as she stumbled. She tried to move, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She dropped to the floor.
“Y-you poisoned me,” she slurred accusingly.
“This is all for your own good. Now, my dear, it’s time to rest.”
————
She awakened with a start, looking around wildly. She was back in her own bed, in the Sanctum. The room was filled with candle light, had she lit those and fallen asleep? It was early evening judging by the last vestiges of sunlight decorating the floor.
The city roared with life outside, an open window allowing her to hear every car horn, argument and conservation. It was beautiful. She laid back down, staring at the ornately patterned ceiling. Had that really all been a terrible nightmare?
Hunger suddenly gnawed at her. When did she last eat? She sat up with a yawn, swinging her legs around to get out of bed. She wondered if that new Thai place was open yet-
Her thoughts were interrupted by a small shock. She couldn’t put her feet on the floor. She rushed to the other side, only to be met with the same resistance. Her shoulders sagged. It hadn’t just been a terrible dream.
She kicked out in frustration, but it felt like pushing against the air itself. An invisible, immovable force kept her exactly where he wanted.
She screamed in rage and despair. Her sanctuary had fallen, and she was alone.
Stephen knocked before opening her bedroom door. “How are you doing, my dear? I’m glad that you were able to sleep.”
“What did you give me.” Her voice only wavered slightly. She was in no mood for false pleasantries.
“Exactly what I told you. A remedy for your injuries. Coupled with a sedative. You were very emotional earlier.”
The apprentice clenched her jaw. Stephen smiled serenely at her barely contained anger. He moved to her side, stroking her thigh tenderly. She pulled away and moved to the other side of the large bed, far away from his sullied hands.
“Come back to me, darling.” His eyes bore into hers and she found herself moving towards him, her limbs jerking like a marionette.
She felt ill as he grinned boyishly at her, as though he had accomplished a marvellous prank. “What have you done to me?”
“Just a simple biophysical telekinesis spell. I control your body when I need to, to stop you from doing anything unwise. The Book of the Damned allows me to use it in perpetuity without squandering energy.” He ignored her horrified gasp.
“You will still have control of your body, to an extent, but you will have to ask for permission to move around my Sanctum until I can trust you, you understand.” He scoffed at himself. “Of course you do, you’re my brightest student.”
“Don’t do this, you know that you can trust me. We’re- we’re friends.” You tried to sound convincing.
He patted her thigh. “I know. However, as your Sorcerer Supreme, I must insist. Now, remove your clothes for me.”
She whimpered as her body moved on its own, her movements more steady. Her hands removed her leather belt holster. Her shoulder holster was already gone, as were all her weapons. All hidden away, no doubt.
She unzipped her prairie dress, the cheerful floral embroidery on the hem ruined and grey from the other universe. She revealed her simple underwear, patterned with a sweet print. She watched with disgust as Stephen’s breath hitched.
Her hands continued to move, unhooking her bra. “Doctor, please, you can end this, I don’t want this.” Her voice was a scared whisper.
“You don’t know what you want, my apprentice. That’s why I’m here to guide you,” he added gently. She wanted nothing more than to hit him with her missing axe.
Her body jerked forward, propelling her onto her knees. She pulled down her underwear, revealing her mound. She looked away, her face hot with embarrassment and shame.
“My dear, you are truly exceptional.”
“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath as her hands made quick work of her socks. Her body laid back down on the bed.
“Spread your legs,” he said with a wolfish smile. “I promise that you’ll enjoy it.”
The apprentice’s legs spread without hesitation. It was awful not being able to control her own limbs. No matter how much she tried to resist, they followed Strange’s whim.
“I want to see you touch herself.”
Her hand fell into its regular rhythm, dipping into her folds before stroking her clit.
“Stephen, please! I can’t-” she fell silent. She never wanted to be in this position with the man she, until recently, considered a trusted mentor.
His smile darkened, his eyes predatory. They were a bright violet, she could see that now. “Oh, darling. You need me, don’t you?”
His mocking tone rang in her ears.
He nipped playfully at her neck, soothing the bites with his tongue. It made her skin crawl. He kissed her collarbone, making a path towards her breasts. He sucked her nipples, moaning in delight as they hardened beneath his ministrations.
She wanted to kick and flail, anything to remove him. Screaming and yelling wouldn’t help. It was New York, those noises were part of the soundscape. And who would ever rush to the door of the man who’d saved the entire universe?
“Stephen, you have to fight this, whatever is in that book is corrupting you! Doctor, please, this isn’t you, you’re a good man, you’re good! Stop, oh gods, please.” She started to become hysterical as her pleas fell on deaf ears.
His fingers explored her cunt, travelling slowly across her folds before stroking her clit. He watched with a singular intensity as his fingers entered her slowly. His droll voice was deadly.
“My dear, I may do good things, but I have never been a good man.”
If Stephen was still in there, he was as trapped as she was. She closed her eyes to stop her tears. Perhaps when she opened them again, this nightmare would end for them both.
He fucked her with his fingers as he lavished attention on her breasts and neck. She felt disgusted at the sweet nothings that he spoke like prayers to the gods, but her accursed body responded to his invasion.
She hoped that this was a part of the spell, that there was still something that belonged to her. Her breath quickened as a heat built in her core. She couldn’t hold in her whimpers, which pleased him greatly.
“My attention has you so wet.” He sounded proud of his handiwork. “I told you that I would bring you pleasure. I want to hear more of those beautiful sounds fall from your lips.”
She could feel his dick stir as he held her. His shaft strained against his dark trousers as his fingers quickened. She willed herself to fight the fire that was searing every nerve as it travelled painfully to her filled cunt.
The sound of her body’s misuse filled the room, along with her soft pleas to stop. It was unfair that she couldn’t hide away at this moment. She could see in his eyes that he knew he’d won.
“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice rippling through her frame, an invasive incantation. She felt betrayed by her own body as it heeded his words, coming with a high moan around his fingers.
“You’re so lovely when you come, I should have fucked you so much earlier, my apprentice.”
She sobbed as he raised his fingers to his lips, greedily tasting her. He groaned as he tasted her spend.
“You are so exquisite. I need more. Don’t worry, you don’t have to move.” He chuckled as he moved between her legs, that damnable third eye reappearing to watch her, to bore into her spirit.
She couldn’t move to fight him off, and was forced to accept every debasing act. It was humiliating that she had to hear every carnal, sloppy sound that he forced from her body. It was arousal without pleasure, reminding her that she was an organic machine that could be altered and manipulated at will.
Her world shrunk as she tried to focus on the world outside. She wasn't here. She was with friends in Alphabet City, grabbing a drink and sharing dinner at her favourite Ethiopian place. She was safe with them. She tried to picture every detail of the restaurant, the old wooden tables over cracked linoleum, the friendly staff, the tinny music from the radio that always made her dance in her seat.
I’m not here, I’m not here, I’m not here.
His tongue lapped at her folds, collecting every drop. He sucked her clit determinedly until he wrung out a whimper. He fucked her with his tongue like a starved animal, his eyes unfocussed as he moaned into her cunt. Not being able to move made it worse, the tension in her limbs building to a painful crescendo. It hurt when she came with a wincing shudder, stopping her attempt to pretend that this wasn’t happening.
She wished that he had respected her enough to kill her in that lost, broken realm. Anything but this.
He finally removed his mouth from her cunt, looking contentedly at her swollen, gleaming lips. “You’re so beautiful, you’ve already made me happier than I ever thought I could be.”
“Please, stop this madness, Stephen,” she pleaded brokenly. “I don’t blame you, I just want you to stop, please.”
His rough hand gently smoothed her hair. He kissed her and she tasted her ill-gotten arousal on his tongue. “I won’t listen to a word you say until you bow, dearest. Rules must be followed.”
She swallowed heavily, shutting her eyes. She listened to a child laughing on the street below. She opened her eyes and Stephen was there above her, a blurry figure as her eyes watered.
He groaned in bliss. “My dear, how can I stop when your begging makes my cock hard?”
He removed his clothes quickly, showing off his strong body and scarred arms. She watched in horror as he stroked his cock, hungrily watching her. She wasn't inexperienced. Though always studious, she’d had plenty of sex and done some wild things, but always with the ability to say no, to stop.
“Stephen, don’t- ah!” She cried out as he slapped her clit, her cunt throbbing with the harsh impact. Her eyes prickled with the heat of tears that could no longer fall. Her skin felt itchy and raw. If she’d been able to, she would have clawed at her skin until she bled, anything to make her repulsive to him.
Hate grew in her heart. If only he had died instead of America.
“Bow, apprentice,” he warned, dark magic oozing around his hand. “Do not anger me.”
“Doctor, don’t do something you’ll regret.”
He laughed uproariously. He rarely laughed so loudly, and the sound brought no comfort. “Why would I regret taking what’s mine? And now, another lesson, my impertinent apprentice.”
The apprentice rose in the air, her limbs limp like a doll.
“It is a courtesy to bow to the Sorcerer Supreme. It shows that you understand that you are nothing at the start of your journey. It shows that you understand that you are there to be moulded into something new. I will break you and refashion you into my ideal companion. Now-” he made a gesture, spinning her body around. “Bow.”
She fell back to the bed, her limbs forced downward as she prostrated herself. She glimpsed her small desk before her head was pushed down by magic, causing her to panic, her breaths rushed and shallow. She was bent over and could no longer make the smallest movement. She couldn’t see him, only her comforter. Her lips trembled as she felt him behind her, holding her hips.
Not here not here not here not here—
He held her close as he slowly pushed through her folds. His moan sliced through her, sharp as any knife. “So tight and wet for me, my love!” he grunted.
He kissed her back before he began to fuck her roughly. She wasn't given time to adjust to his girth and cried with every deep thrust. He used her already abused hole to chase his pleasure, murmuring obscenities into her ear.
“Such a good girl, taking my cock. You love how good this feels, I know you do.”
Something in her broke, something important. She didn’t think that she could ever get it back.
He adjusted her frozen body so that he could fuck her even deeper, shoving her head and shoulders down into the bed and curving her back so that her ass pushed up further. Her soreness quickly transformed into sharp pain, but he didn’t care.
He goaded her with each thrust. She was nothing but a vessel for him to fill, with his genius, with his seed. She was lucky to be chosen as his future bride and confidant, didn’t she see that?
She thought listlessly about a photo on the wall, one during a happier time with Morrigan in her arms.
Is she okay, did he hurt her?
Stephen turned her over, placing the apprentice on her back. “Smile for me, sweet girl.”
Her mouth expanded into a bright, unnatural grin. It contrasted oddly with her red, glistening eyes and raised, knotted brow.
“See, my dear, don’t you feel better already? What do you say when you’re fucked so well?” Stephen placed her legs on his shoulders and set a brutal pace. Her smile remained fixed even as she shut her eyes. He slapped her breasts in warning.
“I would prefer if you didn’t force me to keep your eyes open, it would be very unpleasant for you and I want to keep your body in proper working condition. Now, dear apprentice, do as I ask or I may lose my temper.”
She wouldn’t say what she knew he wanted. She wouldn’t thank him for violating her.
His hand was around her throat in an instant, gripping it tightly. She panicked, unable to fight him off.
“Do not cross me, apprentice!” he snarled, his eyes darkening. He watched coldly as her body spasmed, her eyes bulging.
She kept quiet, hoping that he would simply kill her. But she couldn’t hold out. She cursed her weakness, her primal need to survive. She gave in.
“Thank you, Doctor,” she wheezed. Stephen released her and nuzzled into her neck as she coughed painfully, her body unable to curve into the racking spasms.
“Say it again, my love,” he said quietly.
She sobbed her thank yous over and over again, each word like acid on her tongue as he claimed her body. He watched her languorously, his lids heavy as he delighted in how desperate she looked when he choked her, how easily her cunt allowed him back in.
Her eyes stung and her mouth ached with the rictus grin still plastered on. She wheezed and sniffled, unable to wipe her nose. Everything hurt and her heart was broken. She wanted to hold Morrigan and cry and wail until this dreadful night poured from her body. But she knew now that this would only be one of many nights from now on. He controlled her body and he would never relinquish it. How long could she hold out? How long could she remain herself? She was trained to fortify her mind and body, to hold strong in the face of evil. But this was evil of a different sort.
Think! You need to think of a way out!
Stephen groaned in her ear, his breath hot on her skin. His painful rhythm became uncontrolled. “So close, my dear, your cunt feels so good around my cock. Perhaps I’ll use you like this while you slumber. I’ll make sure that you don’t wake. What lovely sounds would you make in your sleep, I wonder.”
She couldn’t stop her shiver, but it seemed to amuse him. His soft chuckle filled her with loathing.
He pulled out and stroked his dick over her face. She tried to shake her head, appalled.
“Please, Doctor, don’t.”
“It’s still such a turn on when you beg, apprentice.” Stephen’s mouth tightened as he concentrated. He held her head up, grunting as his orgasm roared through him.
She shut her eyes as he came on her face, his spend falling hot and fast on her skin. One more humiliation in a day filled with them. He moaned her name as he came on her breasts, loving the contrast of pearlescent come on her skin.
He wiped his erection across her face, a lazy smile on his lips. He gathered his spunk from her skin and shoved his fingers into her mouth, making her swallow. She almost gagged as his fingers pushed deep in her mouth.
“We’ll have to work on that gag reflex, my love.”
He kissed her sloppily, forcing her to reciprocate. He moaned as their tongues met and he tasted himself on her. He licked his come off her face as he rested on top of her. She felt disgusting, the evidence of his cruelty smeared between them, his softening dick rubbing on her thigh.
She drifted into an inner space where he couldn’t touch her, where she was safe. Meditation would act as a brief respite. She didn’t hear what he murmured to her.
“Next time I’ll try your other orifices. Your tongue will feel like the Vishanti blessed it themselves, I am certain of it. Or perhaps I should experience the ecstasy of your asshole. I’m sure that I could devise a spell that allows me to do both simultaneously.”
He fell silent, deep in thought. “Hm. I could summon a host of creatures and watch them defile you one by one or all at once. Or allow you to become possessed and see what debasements you enact. How invigorating it would be to see my reserved pupil made into a wanton little whore for any fiend and beast that wanted you, until you were left swollen and gaping, begging me to save you. How I’d happily be your saviour, my pretty apprentice.”
He looked at her softly before holding her to his breast, cuddling her tightly.
She stared at nothing as he made a low noise of contentment. “You’ve made me so happy already. I’m sorry for ignoring you all these years while I pined for Christine. I was foolish. I should have seen what was right in front of me. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
She said nothing, her mind blank. She knew that there was no one who could save her, no god that would bring aid or comfort. She was alone with her captor, forever.
He kissed the top of her head, rubbing the expanse of her back. “You will make the perfect companion. In time you will wonder why you ever wanted anything else.”
Stephen gently led her to her bathroom, bathing her and letting her piss, though he watched her like a hawk. She wasn’t sure if this humiliation turned him on as well. He chatted about inconsequential mundanities as he brought her back to bed and bundled her beneath the sheets, ignoring her shivers. After cleaning himself up and snuffing out the candles, he climbed in behind her. He smiled into her hair as he spooned her, shutting his eyes as his arm draped around her stomach.
Her body burned with pain and adrenaline, her heart felt as though it would burst. Her stomach clenched as she tried not to dry heave. She had control of her limbs again, but she still couldn’t escape. Her body felt like a foreign, unclean thing. She tried not to think about what the morning would bring. What would happen once he started to come inside her. She couldn’t be impregnated by this man, it would break her.
His sleep-filled voice interrupted her panic, as though he could hear her thoughts. “I’ll always know what’s best for you, my darling apprentice. Now, you must rest. Tomorrow will bring many more wondrous lessons. Now, say goodnight and that you love me.”
The words were pulled from her, strained and unnatural. ”Goodnight, Stephen. I love you.”
”I love you, too, my darling girl.”
She waited with wide eyes until she could hear the rumble of his snores. Only then did she curl into a ball and softly cry herself to sleep.
It’s time for the annual holiday fic request! I’m doing a longer xmas fic for Krampus Loki, so let me know who else should get an xmas fic this year. The top two choices will get little fics!
A fic I may do sometime in the distant future-Frankenstein Emmrook where Rook dies and is lovingly re-crafted and brought back to life by a grieving and half-mad Emmrich. Rook worships and resents his Creator in equal measure, horrified by being ripped out of their afterlife (cue horrifying Buffy song).
They cry, argue, and rage until they end up toxically fucking in the Arctic Rook’s crypt. With Rook begging him the entire time to ‘please let me die, I don’t want to remain a monster.’ Will Emmrook listen, or will he give into his darkest urges to prevent his heart from breaking again?
Pairing: Emmrich Volkarin x black m! Ingellvar Rook
Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Minors, ageless, blank, & non-updated blogs will be blocked immediately.
Word count: 2,882 words
Plot: A series of love letters from Emmrich, and one from Rook while he travels.
Warnings: 18+ only. This fic features explicit descriptions of sex including- anal and oral sex, rough sex, edging, shibari, exhibitionism, masturbation, Emmrich’s filthy, romantic mouth, swearing. Emmrich uses canon endearments- darling, my dear, my love, etc.
Notes: Takes place two years after the events of the Veilguard. This fic is based on the erotic letters of James Joyce. Souhami is a reference to my favourite queer biographer Diana Souhami. ‘Rook’ is used by Emmrich as a sexual endearment.
Emmrich and Rook use ancient Tevene for their erotic letters (equivalent to Latin), Emmrich also uses it for the dates. Had fun using historical vulgar slang for this one.
10 Matrinalis
To my darling Ingellvar,
I hope that your journey to Ferelden passed without incident. I’m told that Autumn there is rather lovely. I do so miss you, Winny. Already, your departure has been noted, Manfred keeps puttering around the apartment in the most dejected fashion. I have reminded him once more that you’ll only be away for a few months, but I cannot help but share his feelings. I love you, darling husband, and I excitedly wait for your correspondence. Do tell me everything about your travels, and about Denerim.
Ever yours,
E
PS- Vorgoth sends his best wishes. He says, “The dead remain ever watchful.”
25 Matrinalis
To my dear man,
I was delighted and relieved to receive your letter. I know that you’re able to look after yourself, but still I worry that you may suffer mistreatment while in Denerim. How delightful that Davrin and Assan were able to join you, that does ease my mind. Your journey sounds fascinating, perhaps we should plan a holiday in the summer months, I have missed travelling with you. It’s wonderful that Ferelden is beginning to recover from the blight, the Wardens are truly tireless in their efforts.
You haven’t missed much here, the same tiresome arguments by our fellow Watchers continue apace. I cannot fathom why some of our ranks consider ill-gained political power and subterfuge more important than our duties to the dead. Especially as Johanna has shown us all the cost of untoward ambition, but- I’m sorry, darling. I don’t mean to bore you with more unpleasant Necropolis politics. I’ve been most busy recently with my new students. They seem to be engaged during my lessons, their recent discussions have been quite rousing.
I’m afraid I must confess that I have been preoccupied of late. I miss the loveliness of your voice, your company- your touch. I wake each morning still expecting to feel your warmth. But fret not over my foolish, sentimental heart, my dear. Simply send me more letters telling me of your adventures, and I shall sate myself by imagining that I am by your side.
I love you, darling Winny. Please stay safe, and send Davrin my salutations.
Yours entirely,
E
[a shaky scrawl beneath says ‘hullo Papa!’ with a drawing of a smiling skull]
12 Parvulis
Darling,
It gladdens my heart to know that you’ve missed me, and I’m sure that Davrin hasn’t tired of your occasional yearning. Your visit to the Alienage sounds harrowing, I’m glad that you were able to bring even a modicum of hope to your fellow elves. I hope that you don’t feel too overburdened by the responsibility, my dearest heart. We fought for a safer future and yet remain shackled by a cruelly unjust past. I’m always here if you need to unburden yourself. Simply say the word.
With affection,
E
PS- I hope you received the small package that I sent to you and Davrin, may it comfort you both in the days ahead.
27 Parvulis
Darling,
It was no trouble at all, I saw the collection of sweets and foodstuffs while I was at market and thought that you might like a small reminder of home. I hope that most of it survived the journey. And of course I’m happy to provide distraction. I shall endeavour to make every letter a beacon of light to brighten your days.
The city is bustling as everyone prepares for the ancestral pageants. I’ve always enjoyed the soft light of the lanterns that envelope the streets, though I shied away from the actual pageantry. Autumn has arrived so quickly, I can’t help but feel refreshed by the crisp morning air when I take my daily constitutional. I know that you aren’t a morning person, darling, but I do think that everyone should see the sun rise at least once.
I took our son around the city streets so that he could feel that same wonder we felt when we were young. I tried to explain my origins to him, my boyhood in Nevarra’s alleys. He asked a variety of questions and seemed delighted by the city and its people (and they him). However, I’m not sure that he truly understood my humble origins. Even the most remarkable of curiosity spirits must struggle with comprehending societal complexities. Despite that, it was a lovely evening. Manfred is always such a joy.
His mastery of advanced spirit calling is progressing most splendidly, you would be proud of him. He has also been tending to your apiary. I think it brings him peace, to be like his papa. I’ll assist him in the coming weeks with gathering honey in time for your return.
I must end this letter here, I’m afraid. The spirit of Beltran, a former colleague and friend, is wreaking havoc in the lower levels. He always did enjoy the odd jape.
Love you,
E
29 Parvulis
Oh darling, I’ve just received your package. What a remarkable find! A first edition of Souhami’s ATreatise of Spectral Transmutation, and in such fantastic condition. You wonderful man, wherever did you find it? It shall have pride of place in my study. I’ll think of you whenever I gaze upon it.
I love you, my dear.
E
PS- Johanna has enquired after you. Despite her customary incivility, I can tell that she misses your company.
10 Frumentum
Beloved,
You mustn’t tease me so. The second month without you has arrived and I feel almost feverish with desperation. You have no idea the spell you’ve cast on me from great distance, dear Winny.
This is the third letter I’ve attempted to write to you, the others lie unfinished on my desk. My shame was too great to finish them. I’m trying to fill my days completely so that the hours flow as quickly as the Cumber. The worst moments are when I wake and those hours before sleep claims me- all that fills my thoughts is you. I’m rendered quite useless, made sick with impatient, thwarted desire. Shall I tell you of my thoughts, darling? Shall I lay myself bare?
Even now, I clasp my locket containing your lovely portrait. It excites and steadies me in equal measure. Forgive my unseemly coarseness, but there have been countless nights where I have sought relief by gazing at your portrait, prick in hand.
Have you done the same, dear man?
To all who see you, they witness the glorious hero, the reserved scholar of the Necropolis. They don’t know the glorious truth of you, my handsome libertine.
My thoughts are filled, not with romance or sentiment, but with lust.
It arouses me to think of our past adventures, when you visited my laboratory and without the faintest hint of shame, fell to your knees. How easily you undid my trousers to take me into your mouth. Even now I can feel the softness of your lips, the heat of your mouth as you took me down your throat. Maker, your heavenly moans still echo in my ears. How I long to wring those moans from you once more, my Rook.
Your eyes glittered like the rarest jewels when you looked up at me, your lips the most wonderful adornment around my length. How I gripped that embalming table as you breathed life back into me! Amongst the proud gazes of the dead, you made me feel alive!
With every thrust into my inadequate hand, I think of you, sweet husband, so lovely on your knees as my hands rest on your halo of curls. I look forward to recreating that moment.
Oh darling, how I long to bend you over and fill you to the brim, to hold your quivering, shining flesh between my fingers as you stretch around me. Do you harden at the thought of taking me deep? Please tell me that you do, describe your ache so that we might share it.
I want to feel you pressed against me, to feel the movement of limb and muscle as you desperately impale yourself on my shaft. The delicious melody of your sighs taunting me, daring me once more to spill my seed to thoughts of you. I am but your servant, my love. I would do anything you ask and thank you for the pleasure.
You would be startled, perhaps horrified, seeing the frequency with which I have chased after self pleasure, as though I was once again a young man. It hasn’t lately provided satisfaction. More than once my spend has splashed against the glass of your portrait. And even with such stark evidence of that quiet shame, I can only think one simple thought- that I wish it were your face, so that I may clean it off with my starving, vulgar tongue.
By the Maker, I’m made hopelessly hard again. I feel possessed, my hand is not my own as it brushes against my straining trousers. If only I could be sated. I shall attend myself and have an early sleep.
I’m sorry, dear husband. Scold me if you must. Punish me if that is your whim. But know that I miss you, and love you dearly.
Forever yours.
E
18 Harvestmere
Emm-
I must say that I was surprised to read the contents of your letter, thankfully I didn’t open it near Davrin. Though I am impressed with your use of ancient Tevene. I’m writing back in kind.
Don’t you know that you could never scandalise me, husband? Whatever your darkest desire, I’m happy to do it. There should never be any shame between us, only bliss- you told me that in our early days together.
And of course I ache for you. It’s unbearable. There are moments when it feels like you are next to me, holding me tight, as though our spirits have reunited and been made flesh. Such sensations overwhelm me. I barely need to touch my cock-head before I come to the feeling of you deep inside me.
I’m inundated with thoughts of fucking. I think of every crypt we’ve fucked in, wondering if this time we’d be caught… perhaps I’ll fuck you in one of the sacred halls once I return, hm? The living and the dead will know that we’re soulmates in carnality. They’ll see how handsome you are when in a dishevelled state, covered in sweat and come. I would do that for you. Simply ask.
Or maybe you want them to see me knighted by your sword as you drag it across my face, marking me as yours. They would see the desperation in my eyes as I try to swallow you as deep as any courtesan. I would happily be your scabbard, dear man.
See, my love- I hold no shame! I’m proudly your libertine, your rakehell.
I’ve already tossed myself off to your letter once today. I will treasure it, Emm. But, oh, you are filthy for sullying my portrait! Now every time you look at it for years to come, we’ll both know about your little depravity.
Should I provide you with another portrait to better assist with your lecherous thoughts? I know the most exquisite painter who specialises in discreet portraiture.
I can recline on our bed, barely clad in grave gold and one of your dressing gowns, a hand delicately posed over my erection. Or we can recreate one of our antique paintings and be immortalised in delicto flagrante, our limbs entangled as we lose ourselves to ecstasy… Does that cause a dark thrill? Or perhaps you’d prefer another locket with only a painting of my cock? It would be our secret, a gift for you to keep close and use as you wish.
I love you, Volkarin. I would never think of scolding you, but a punishment seems fitting. Until I return, I don’t want you to have any relief. Cage yourself and remember that you’re mine, and I’m yours. It always excites me to think of you made forcibly chaste. When you next write, wear a plug to help ease your thoughts. And please describe what you’re wearing, I miss being dazzled by your finery, even if it’s simply your dressing gown.
Soon we will be together again, dear husband. I miss you so.
Eternally yours,
Winny
30 Frumentum
You beautiful man, truly we are twin flames! I’ve submitted to your punishment most ardently these last few days. It’s deliciously painful to sit here while stuffed and unable to remedy the heat roiling within me.
I’ve chosen the brass plug to challenge myself. The slow stretch of it left me gasping, I must admit. I’m still adjusting to its cold weight. Even as I sit here at our tea table, it curves deep into me, obscene in its teasing pleasure. I find myself making the most inelegant sounds whenever my movements cause it to press ever further.
I keep gripping the table in a failed effort to steady myself, but it isn’t possible when your words have burned themselves into my heart. I’ve submitted to the storm of our shared passion, and yet my erection is half-thwarted, the firmness of the ring around my shaft acting as my jailer. The lightest touch of my leaking cock sends a jolt down my spine that threatens to unravel my resolve.
Promise me that you’ll ride me upon your return, darling Winny. Promise me that you won’t leave my arms for at least a tenday. I can bear the next two weeks encaged if you promise me that. I’m off to bed, once I remove this plug. Hopefully, I’ll dream of your rough, filthy grunts and the heated slap of your arse down my length.
Oh Rook, how dearly I love you.
It’s morning now. I’m half dressed and unsure how to best spend this lazy day. I’m in a half tied tunic, my socks and suspenders, and naught else, save for my banyan and plug. You might think me a rather decadent figure in my current state. It’s such a beautiful day, I think that I will take a long constitutional in the park. Shall I be incorrigible and wear my plug whilst I walk? I think I shall.
I’ve lately thought of tying you up. It has been an age since we last practiced, it’s always such an exhilarating experience. I want to restrict you in the softest of ropes and the most luxurious velvet blindfold, my dear. I’ll kiss each bound limb with utter tenderness- your arms as they’re tied together, your manhood as I encircle it with rope, your shoulder blades as I lower you on your knees. My kisses will descend to the lush swell of your thighs as I spread them wide. Only then will I have you as I want you, unfurled like the prettiest grave flower.
Would you enjoy that, my dear Rook? Bound, with the most intimate part of your anatomy exposed to my admiring gaze. Trying to continue each slow, measured breath as I taste you. I wonder if you could maintain your composure as I take you- the ropes pressing into your skin with each deep thrust, throbbing with pleasure without the bliss of relief, panting as I lovingly guided you through every movement.
I would handle you so gently, my dear. Unless you prefer a firmer touch-
Oh, but I am frustrating myself with these reveries! I risk losing the morning if I continue to daydream about our possible congress. I shall do my daring walk around the park, which will allow me to think of you for a little while longer. Then I will dress properly for the day and have a rather more respectable lunch with some old friends.
There are only two weeks left before my beloved husband returns to my arms. I am counting down the days until Manfred and I can welcome you home.
I miss you, Godwin. Write me a letter before you depart, and I’ll hope for you and Davrin to have a safe return.
I love you, darling man.
-E
[Final letter unsent, left on Godwin and Emmrich’s bed.]
14 Umbralis
Winny, by the time you read this, it will be your nameday. Manfred and I worked very hard on making you an apple and fig cake. Manfred carefully added your favourite flowers around its edges. He truly is a delightful spirit.
I know that you will be too tired from your travels to celebrate fully, but I will make you something hearty for dinner, followed by an assortment of presents. Afterwards, I’m happy to do whatever you desire, for as long as you desire, even if it’s as simple as reading in bed. I’ve taken a small holiday so that we can spend time together. Our colleagues did not seem particularly surprised.
Every time you travel, I’m reminded how wonderful my life has become due to your presence. I know I’ve said it before, but there was a time when I had unhappily consigned myself to permanent bachelorhood. Yet, we live in an age that has granted us miracles amidst the horrors. And do forgive my relentless sentimentality, my dear man, but your unwavering love is a cherished miracle.
Happy nameday, darling. May our love continue beyond this life. I’m so happy that you’re home.
WIP idea for the future: one-sided rivals to lovers with Emmrich. Rook and Emmrich are both the hot new Necropolis professors, Rook views Emmrich as annoying competition, but Emm has been infatuated with Rook for years…. Will they both fall for each other? Will they both make tenure?!
