inkpens
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Istvan floated in the clear blue water of his pool, drinking white wine from a plastic tumbler, feeling the sun on his tanned skin. A year ago, he couldn’t have pictured himself here—but fortune takes and fortune gives. If he had to live this new life as a middle-aged divorcé, stereotypically complete with growing waistline and receding hairline, at least now he could do so in his own private paradise.
And, with the pool, there was Erik.
Recently divorced businessman Istvan hadn’t expected the hours of visual entertainment that would come along with his new pool boy. Struggling university student Erik feels like he’s living in a porno. Under the summer sun, the two men find mutual interest and understanding—and dive head-first into more than just the pool.
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“Well,” Istvan says, voice brittle. “That wasn't very polite of you. Two fathers and neither taught you manners?”
Before Henry can react, Istvan has him by the back of his neck, pulling him sideways and shoving him down. With his arms tied, he can’t fight back; his feet scrabble on the floor, but Istvan holds him fast. Istvan's forearm, tight across his shoulders, proves deceptively strong. Henry can't move.
“I see so much of myself in you,” he continues, keeping Henry pinned to his lap as Henry’s struggling weakens. “I can’t help but care about you, Henry, ungrateful as you’ve been. And, as they say, spare the rod, spoil the child.”
At Vranik, Istvan stays a little longer with Henry—and offers him much to consider, whether he's ready for it or not.
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Istvan was silent for a moment, contemplating the dark wine in the cup before him. When he spoke, he still didn't meet Erik’s eyes.
“I killed a man today.”
It wasn’t like Istvan to worry over bloodshed—Erik felt a thread of unease coil in his own belly. “Skirmish? Or a thief?”
“One of my own men.”
In his early days with Istvan, Erik tries to comfort the man as he struggles with more than one thing the boy is too young to understand.
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“Why's it the only thing that still has leaves?” Erik asks.
“It feeds on the tree it hangs from,” Istvan continues. “Perhaps that's why its color never fades.”
Under a sprig of wild mistletoe, Erik and Istvan contemplate love, death, and sacrifice.
(originally posted as a twitter threadfic on Christmas)
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“What do you want?” Radzig asked, voice raspy, as he looked up from between Istvan's legs.
“I could grow used to seeing you on your knees before me,” Istvan said, mouth curling in a smile. “Perhaps I should keep you there.”
Radzig chuckled. “These knees are too old for that, I’m afraid.” He stood up and leaned in towards Istvan, pulling him close for a kiss. Against his mouth, he murmured, “Tell me what else I can give you.”
A shudder ran through Istvan’s body, strong enough that Radzig could feel it. Istvan took a deep breath. “You can’t imagine the ways I would answer that.”
Radzig hosts Istvan for the evening at Skalitz and misses something he won’t recognize until it’s far too late.
For Istzig Week, Day 4: Betrayal
Series
- Part 2 of folie
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Modern AU fem!isterik figuring out who they are and what they want.
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a fair girl I did meet by TheFlirtMeister
Fandoms: Kingdom Come: Deliverance (Video Games)
27 Feb 2026
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“Someone should have taught you better manners,” Ištván muses, as if he wasn’t the one who brought Erik up and taught him pleases-and-thank-yous. “You’re not very nice for a young lady.”
Bookmarked by inkpens
07 Jul 2026
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The beautiful outfit that distracted him so much was mostly white and fit like it’d been specially tailored for him. Perhaps it had; it wasn’t like Ištván was short of coin these days. How had he taken and given the measurements? Across his chest, my ten fingers spread out wide. His waist? Five kisses from my greedy mouth. The tailor’s quill, in Erik’s mind, wobbled uncertainly. My son and I are very close. Yes, ever since his mother —
Ištván takes Erik, posing as his son, to a party in order to impress some wealthy potential client. Both of them enjoy the idea of it a little too much.
Bookmarked by inkpens
07 Jul 2026
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In simple equations no sanctity can exist, and Erik is a man of simplicity; he stops thinking about eternal damnation long before he kisses a man for the first time. He remembers hearing a priest preach by the Frauenkirche, warning about the dangers of carnal desire. All of these — eyes and smiles, coral lips, sun-gilded hair and skin as warm milk — hide the same flesh, fat and bile, bone and blood, and all of it is slowly rotting; should one forfeit his eternal life in favour of this futility?
The thing is: none of it is new to Erik, none of it disgusts him. He knows what a human corpse looks up close; he couldn’t spot this mystical evil aspect in it even if he tried. There’s no facade to break when he doesn’t look for it in the first place.
Blood is the noblest of humours, best served on a silver platter.
István faces his guilt; Erik faces his grudge.Continuation of "death's other kingdom". Two-shot.
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- Part 2 of executioner's son
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- English
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- 12,398
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- 2/2
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Bookmarked by inkpens
07 Jul 2026
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He wondered what the man would do if he looked him in the eye and told him to bite down. Would he refuse? Or would he harden his gaze and sink his teeth into the soft leather of Ištván’s glove. Either way would be its own form of loyalty, though only one would be unquestioning. Would you hurt me if I asked you?
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a fic following the jealousy, envy, and lust that drives istvan and erik both to and away from one another.Bookmarked by inkpens
07 Jul 2026
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good old-fashioned lover boy by TheFlirtMeister
Fandoms: Kingdom Come: Deliverance (Video Games)
14 Mar 2026
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“You,” Erik says, the same thing he has wanted at fourteen, at seventeen, at twenty. “You, pregnant, with tits full of milk and my baby in your belly so everyone would know that I’d spilled inside of you, that you were mine and mine alone-“
Or, Ištván and Erik fuck after Skalitz is wiped off the map.
Bookmarked by inkpens
07 Jul 2026