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ancuninfiles · 3 months

Text

Bite Night [REVISED]

Gif by @astarionposting

18+ MDNI - M/F - Astarion x F!Tav - Words: 4K

[REVISED AS OF 06/26/2024]

Summary: He found himself surreptitiously climbing atop her vulnerable body, holding his breath, being sure not to wake her—he didn't need to breathe anyway.

Slotting his leg between her thighs for balance, he placed his elbow on the ground beside her head. He tilted her chin to the side, before slowly and gently brushing her hair away from her pulse point.

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Having lost his inhibition, he fisted Tav's hair with fervour, beastially pushing her neck into his mouth. Only then did he hear the salacious mewl of his prey, as he instinctively tasted the pleasure that flowed through her veins.

—𝘐𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦. . . e𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? he questioned.

Astarion's eyes fluttered shut as he groaned deeply into her neck, bringing his knee flush to her core. Tav began to writhe beneath him, arching her back and slowly bucking her hips on his knee.

Tags: smut, somnophilia (if you squint), non-consensual vampire bites, blood drinking, enthusiastic consent (sex), vaginal fingering, P in v, creampie, mating press, outdoor sex, soft Astarion, sorcerer Tav, nondescript Tav, Aftercare, idealized version of events, no beta we die like cazador

MASTERLIST (Other works by me)

Read on AO3 for full tag list and proper formatting (Recommended)

𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Astarion had never met anyone like Tav. Despite their first meeting—where he held a dagger to her throat after tricking her into thinking he needed help—she had shown him nothing but kindness. In retrospect, it was interesting to note that Tav, being a sorcerer, could have easily used Shocking Grasp on him while he had her pinned beneath his blade. Instead, she had been oddly compliant.

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“I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod,” Astarion cooed

Nodding, Tav gazed back at him with half-lidded eyes and knitted brows—a look he could only assume was partially caused by the midday sun beating down on her face. It was as if she completely surrendered to him, going practically limp in his arms, which made him soften his grip slightly.

“Splendid—and now you're going to tell me what you, and those tentacle freaks did to me." he peered down at her, eyes briefly flicking to her neck where her blood bloomed beneath her skin. Despite her relaxed form, he could feel her quickened, prey-like pulse, causing his mouth to moisten.

“I—I didn't do anything. . . I was abducted, same as you!" she pleaded.

“Don't lie to me. I—agh!” Astarion yelped, as a violet aura surrounded them both. Their minds suddenly connected; he could peer into her thoughts and feel what she was feeling.

To his surprise, her mind was laced with compassion—compassion for him, the man holding a blade to her throat.

—He and I have the same problem, these tadpoles—and he is likely reeling after all this. He could be a good ally.

Subsequently, Astarion's memories were exposed to Tav through this odd psychic connection. Broken pieces of his past—pieces that he would have rather kept to himself, though nothing incriminating.

“What was that? What's going on?" he asked, his voice, laced with anxiety.

Panting, Tav spoke. “You saw into my mind. It was the parasites—they connected us," she said, eyebrows still knitted. She inhaled deeply through her mouth before a wave of calm seemed to ease her expression.

Her breath smelled of mint, and her hair, lavender.

—Gods—her scent, her pulse, her expression—everything about her is distracting, he thought.

Although he would have loved to hold her for a while longer— to grab her hair and sink his teeth into her delicate flesh, he decided against it. Confident that she was not a threat, he released her with care. However, they maintained eye contact as they slowly stood up—the trust had yet to bud within their fresh companionship.

She wants to be my ally, he reflected, grateful.

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They had acquired two more allies on their misadventure so far—a cleric with an odd name, and an annoying wizard who talked too much. Tav seemed naive, to say the least—she was picking up strays left and right and Astarion couldn't help but question: were these others to be trusted?

Although, Tav had a way of making everyone feel accepted and comfortable.

“If you need anything, please let me know. I don't care if I'm sleeping, reading, or otherwise busy, you can wake me up. I want to help," she exclaimed to the entire group, in earnest. She even made sure to make eye contact with each of them as she said this—she truly meant it.

—Gods—she couldn't be more sweet. So. . . tempting, he thought to himself.

He wondered if she would taste as sweet as she acted—but no, he had to stop thinking such desirous things. Even if he merely hinted that he was a monster, Tav would surely end him. Besides, Cazador would most definitely flay him for drinking the blood of a thinking creature.

Although. . .

The parasite had granted him immunity from the sun—maybe Cazador couldn’t control him at all anymore.

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The sun had fallen below the horizon, signifying the evening's end. The day had been exhausting—looking for a healer, which they had to fight through a horde of goblins to get to.

It had been nought but three nights since the nautiloid crash, and Astarion had already snuck off the previous night to find a boar, which he stupidly left in the middle of the road. Tav and the Shadowheart had fixated on it—the cleric pointing out that the boar had been left fully intact, yet entirely exsanguinated. To his dismay, these strangers were smarter than he had initially thought.

Tav had been so exhausted that she fell asleep beside the fire, while everyone else left to their tents.

She was a powerful ally, indeed, as the two of them carried the team. The wizard was frequently coming within an inch of death and you would have thought the cleric was blind because she missed almost every shot.

—Leave it to Gale to cover the ground in grease, only to slip in it and fall prone, himself, Astarion scolded internally.

While everyone was sleeping, Astarion slipped away into a clearing in the woods to have some privacy and decompress at last—he had not been able to since the nautiloid crash.

Finally, alone with his thoughts, Astarion's memories of his master plagued him; it was as if he were truly there, reciting his rules.

First, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.

Second, thou shalt obey me in all things.

Third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.

Four, thou shalt know that thou art mine.

—Terrifying. So much for decompressing, Astarion thought.

Distressed, he left the clearing—though not without an unsettling feeling, gnawing at his resolve.

—He can't control me anymore, I can walk in the sun, Astarion mused, attempting to calm his frayed nerves.

A sudden distracting burning climbed up his throat—he was starving. It only made sense, after having exerted himself more than usual during the day's unfruitful endeavour.

Though he was tasting pseudo-freedom, away from his tormentor, he knew he would never be free from the vampiric syndrome that enthralled him, so.

He had to find something—or someone—to eat. . . soon.

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Astarion arrived back at camp, stopping at the tree line, only to assess its state.

Sweet Tav was still sleeping soundly by the fire as her words replayed in his head, "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask—I don't care if I’m sleeping."

Sweet Tav who had shown him compassion almost immediately after he threatened her life with a blade to her throat. . .

—Naive.

Sweet Tav whose breath was minty, whose hair smelled of lavender, and whose pulse sounded so beautifully hypnotic.

Astarion, bewitched, had snuck close enough to Tav to see her throat, beautifully exposed, during his rapacious musings.

An easy target, Tav wore a thin, silky nightgown with flimsy straps. Her supple legs, exposed and glistening in the firelight as she lay on her back. The wind blew, stirring the flames, and wafting her herbaceous scent towards Astarion. He attempted to suppress a shameful urge to inhale deeply, as his mouth watered, yearning to sink his teeth into her delicate skin.

He found himself surreptitiously climbing atop her vulnerable body, holding his breath, being sure not to wake her—he didn't need to breathe anyway.

—Formalities, he thought, surely not a gesture of kindness.

He carefully lowered his open maw onto Tav's throat, although he was shaking with anticipation—or perhaps it was simply the sanguine hunger.

Finally puncturing the skin, blood sluiced into his mouth as he latched, almost like a feral animal, and began to imbibe. Her blood was ambrosia—a full-bodied flavour of ichor that he'd never experienced before. It was sweet, yet complex, reminiscent of a fine-aged wine but entirely unique in its own right.

It was everything. She tasted like the sun, like life itself—like freedom.

—Is she. . . enjoying this? he questioned.

Astarion's eyes fluttered shut as he groaned deeply into her neck, bringing his knee flush to her core. Tav began to writhe beneath him, arching her back and slowly bucking her hips on his knee.

As her blood rushed through his body, his groin began to harden, filling with heat. Desire built in his lower abdomen, causing his cock to strain uncomfortably against his strays.

Astarion continued taking generous gulps, running his tongue across her pulse point, trying to coax more blood into his mouth.

A primal groan spilt from his lips, unbidden, as he yearned for friction.

Astarion repositioned himself fully between her thighs, pressing his clothed bulge onto her exposed entrance. Surprisingly, she accommodated him, tactfully wrapping her legs around his pelvis.

Tav reached her right hand up to Astarion's curls, but he grabbed her wrist, roughly pinning it beside her head—he needed more.

Tav whimpered, but her rutting slowed, as did her pulse. In that moment, a war raged in his mind; he wanted to stop—he wanted her in the worst ways—but something indescribable within him was fighting to suffocate all wistful ideologies of his humanity.

She was so weak, so feeble—beautifully helpless beneath him. He thought he could hear his name being called in the distance, but then he realised it was a mellifluous voice murmuring in the faintest whisper—Tav.

Something in her passive plea strengthened his morality, snapping him from his predatory enchantment, and he unlatched dutifully.

With knitted brows, he pressed the flat of his tongue to her wounds until the bleeding halted. He placed a chaste kiss of atonement on the injury, as he avoided her gaze by hiding in the crook of her neck.

At last, he released her wrist—as he ought to—but her hand found his, and she swiftly laced their fingers together.

His eyes rounded and his brows canted up at her gesture. Perplexed, he moved from his sanctuary between her head and shoulder to study her face; however, her eyes were fixed on their dovetailing digits.

Eyeing her puncture wounds, he felt a pang of deep shame—an amalgam of unprocessable onyx and verdant hues that he would promptly stuff down into his disordered and congested corpus vault.

With a lithe knuckle, he tilted her head to face his, finding her eyes heavy and wet while her cheeks were flushed. Her chest heaved as she shared his gaze with blown-out pupils. Overall, her demeanour seemed serenely rapturous.

"Why did you stop?" she breathed.

—Does she truly not know? he pondered. It seemed as though her compassion was boundless, to her detriment.

"Oh—you sweet, generous thing," he whispered.

Tav's reached to Astarion's face where she gently caressed his cheek, as her other hand remained affectionately tangled with his. Eyeing his lips, she analysed the blood on his chin, swiping it softly with her thumb. Her eyes fluttered up to meet his gaze once again, however, he was admiring her lips as she had his. Her seductively parted mouth adorned the same colour as her blushing cheeks.

Astarion's gaze flicked to Tav's again, as she caressed his cheekbone with her thumb.

—Such a gentle little thing, he thought, and after what I've done to her.

The firelight danced in her glistening, tired eyes, while her hair was gorgeously spread amongst her bedroll. She was like a deva—no, a goddess. She couldn't be real—it couldn't be possible that someone could forgive him for what he had done to her, let alone want him to continue. Though, Astarion bore an odd and novel concern for her well-being.

Tav slithered a trembling hand to the nape of his neck. "I want you if you'll have me," she exclaimed, smiling earnestly. "Please, Astarion," she supplicated.

His name sounded melodic on her lips, as if she were a siren, pulling him in with her bewitching song—pulling him in, to drown in her.

Their lips crashed like the waves in the Sea of Fallen Stars, their tongues exploring and tasting as they moaned into one another. Their kiss was bruising and sloppy; Astarion found he was enjoying more than just the flavour of her ichor.

Tav made advances with her tongue as well, opening her mouth wide enough to let Astarion indulge, submitting to his plot. Her mouth tasted as minty as it smelled, and his, like her blood.

One of her hands carded through his locks, and the other splayed on his back. He rocked into her while groping her soft body—greedily exploring and reaching under her nightgown to grab her breast. He pinched her nipple, eliciting a muffled squeak from Tav whose mouth was still being thoroughly ravished.

Releasing her mound, he skated his hand down to her folds at last, finding her soaked. Pleased, he withdrew from their kiss.

"You are positively dripping for me, darling," he purred, rubbing languid circles on her clit, causing her back to arch.

She groaned as her face contorted. "I want you inside me—please," she begged, her eyes round and pleading as her words drifted out in a meagre sigh.

It was clear to him that Tav was suffering from blood loss by the way she futilely squirmed, seeking friction with what little might she had. He wanted to mitigate her illness; though, all he could do was capitulate to her desire.

"Only because you ask so sweetly." Astarion feigned dominance, knowing he would obligingly do anything she asked of him.

He plunged two digits inside, stretching her weeping channel. She hummed her assent, encouraging him to curl his fingers seductively as he began getting her hole ready for his girth. Her jaw slackened, eyes fixed on his as wanton mewls spilt from her lips.

With his free hand, he pushed her nightgown above her breasts, exposing her naked and writhing body to the night air. It hadn't occurred to him until then that they were in the middle of camp—the cleric and wizard could discover them, however Tav seemed unbothered. In addition, Astarion noticed that his senses felt much sharper since drinking her blood—he was confident that he would hear anyone coming long before they could see anything.

He increased his pace, pumping into her consistently as he palmed her clit.

Her lower muscles tensed, all while her breaths became frantic—he could feel her approaching her climax around him. The way her breasts moved in harmony with her heaving chest made her look even more delectable—he yearned to taste her tender mounds and to feel her hardened pebble in his mouth.

His lips encapsulated her bosom, and he groaned at the feeling of her nipple when he flicked it with his tongue. He nipped and sucked, taking care not to break the skin as he savoured.

All at once, she cried his name, stuttering as she came on his merciful fingers. He pinched her nipple between his teeth before toying with it and suckling at her supple flesh enough to create a plethora of hickies. He ascended from her now limp body, a string of saliva connecting them as he sat up, finally withdrawing his fingers only to grope her beleaguered mound.

He began to generously fondle both of her breasts with either hand as she laid with her arms up, palms facing skywards, resting beside her head. She bit her lip with knitted brows as she allowed him to roam her body freely.

"Hmm—you're wonderful, Astarion," she hummed, smiling brightly.

"You're unbelievably beautiful," his sincere words slipped from his lips before he could ponder his intonation, just as he had hoped to avoid.

However, he only saw adoration in her eyes before bringing her into a molten kiss. He roamed her form with his grip, leaving red prints in its greedy wake before landing his strong grasp on her bottom.

Their lips flew apart as Astarion's length was straining unbearably against his pants. Without rising, he expertly unlaced his trousers and his large, glistening member sprang free.

Glancing down, he witnessed her core and thighs, damp with her juices. He hooked her knees over his biceps and teased her entrance with his tip. He wanted to bury himself fully between her legs with reckless abandon, but he thought better of it, choosing to study her expression first.

Her brows were drawn together, pouting as she wiggled her hips, attempting to ease him inwards.

Astarion smirked, growling playfully at her impatience. "Please tell me if you want to stop. Can you do that for me?" he cooed, withholding his servitude in wait for her agreement.

“Mhm.” She nodded, biting her bottom lip.

Having heard her consent, he sunk his member into her in one slow, well-executed thrust. Her response to was immediate: her breath hitched, inhaling deeply through her mouth, and each exhale carried on an exasperated sigh as her respiration accelerated.

Instinctively, he panted as well as he felt himself stretching her inner walls. He felt himself leaking precum as his tip became snug with her cervix. However, her jaw was clenched and she breathed through gritted teeth, causing Astarion to lose confidence in her comfortability.

"Are you okay?" he prodded as he stilled inside her.

"Mm—yeah,” she hummed, “you're just so big, I've never had someone reach into me so deeply. It doesn't hurt, I promise. It feels so good,” she reassured.

“Oh darling—I'm going to fill you right up," he said, pulling out partially before snapping his hips into her with vehemence.

He rutted into her at a consistent pace, reaching into her deeply thanks to her contorted position. Her warmth engulfed him, just as the fire that crackled beside them engulfed its wood.

Reaching to her clit, he applied pressure in taut circles. He revelled in the understanding that he was stretching her mere millimetres below where his fingers caressed—and that her helpless body and wanting mind were surrendering to him as he worked her to her apogee.

Her mouth fell agape and she panted as her undulating thighs tensed expectantly.

The sight of her open mouth created intruding thoughts of her flavour and texture. Oh—how he wanted to tie his tongue with hers. But he had an equally enticing idea: like a tongue, to wrap his words around her mind—to spread its folds and engender rapture.

“That's it. Good little lamb.”

Their combined needs were paradoxically synchronistic—he gazed down at her with a momentary desire to ruin her, while she looked up at him, yearning for destruction; her lower quivers as confirmation.

And how lucky was he? To flash his fangs at his prey, only for it to offer itself—sacrificially.

When she fluttered around him, he didn’t stop—he felt her unbidden grip on his length as if it were a desperate hold on the precipice of a steep mount. He wouldn't let go, he would only tangle her arm and pull her from demise. It is not the magma laying in wait below that shall end her—what waste that would be.

—When I am right here; and the honour belongs to me.

He readjusted her legs atop his shoulders until her knees were nearly beside her head. He was able to reach deeper into her than ever before, and his hardness was hitting her sweet spot at the perfect angle—for both her pleasure and his.

"Do you want me to fill you, darling? Is that what you want?" he teased, breathless as he fucked her ceaselessly.

"Yes," she begged, "please! I want you to feel good, too.”

Tension built in his lower abdomen at her words, and he couldn't help but stifle a moan. He hadn't felt this aroused—this hard for a long time, if ever; for he couldn't remember. It was as if the taste of her blood—the taste of freedom—had spurred a renewed feeling. The feeling: safety. . . he felt safe with Tav.

No Cazador, no kennel, no chains. Only Tav, her celestial expression, and her blushing complexion due to his reverence.

He could feel her tight walls—wet and stretched, all for him. She felt so very ready to receive his bestowal, and she'd supplicated for it already.

He pressed himself—flush into her folded form as his orgasm crested. Groaning a deep rumble—he emptied himself into her, as his leaking tip compressed against her cervix.

As he came down from his euphoria, he rested his head at her side, placing chaste kisses on her neck—where he had bitten earlier.

His length twitched as his jism spurted, overflowing her channel and inevitably dripping past their entanglement and onto the bedroll. He pulled out mere inches before snapping into her once more—thoroughly marking her with his essence.

Astarion savoured the feeling of his body—so close to Tav’s. . . inside her. Breathless, he brushed her hair away from her face, admiring her features—swollen lips and tired eyes. She'd been thoroughly ravished, and he anticipated that he'd be able to ravish her again—perhaps endlessly, he mused.

Finally, he pulled out of her, kissing her once more before rolling onto his back and pulling his trousers up.

Glancing at Tav, he bore witness to the ruinous and lewd display—the display he'd created. Her inner thighs were painted with their combined fluids, her neck adorned two crimson puncture wounds, and her nightgown was hiked up—past her breasts. Clearly, she'd been drained to the point of exhaustion, and at no fault of her own.

Astarion sought to take care of her, given he was the one who'd made a mess of her. Additionally, the idea of leaving her the way she was caused his stomach to lurch—she deserved better than that, truly.

“This won't do,” he said, scooping her up bridal-style which caused her to squeak.

He chuckled, her head leaning on his body as he carried her to his tent. Laying her down on his blankets, he smiled pridefully.

“I'll only be a moment, I promise,” he whispered before retrieving his softest handkerchief from his bag and crouching out of his tent.

He soaked it with the cold river water, ringing it out before making long strides back to his tent—where Tav was.

He crouched into his tent to find her resting—peacefully with a subtle smile on her face.

"This is going to be a little cold. Apologies in advance," he cooed, running the damp cloth along her most vulnerable parts. She hummed in assent, her smile deepening as he cared for her body—beautifully used.

Having finished, he cleaned himself with the same cloth and tossed it in his small wicker hamper.

Though the night was warm, Tav was bloodless and cold—she required blankets, surely. Unfortunately, he only owned two beige and boyish blankets that looked more like rags. To compensate, he hastily strode to Tav's tent to retrieve her bedding.

Once arriving back to her, he set her up with the proper accommodations; jostling her about like a sleepy doll. Astarion peered at Tav—snuggled up in the blankets—admiring his handiwork with pride.

Undressing completely, Astarion joined her under the blankets, facing her. Taking in her features, he brushed his fingers across her cheek and under her ear—his thumb, stroking her cheekbone.

He vowed to apologise in the morning; but for now, she was in his arms, smiling as she slept.

Nuzzling into him, she pecked his hand, and his eyes rounded in response.

He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead before she turned around and pressed her backside against his groin. He initially froze, overwhelmed by her odd affection, but he soon embraced her into his arms, basking in her lavender scent.

He didn't understand the novel emotions that coursed through him, but he relinquished his uncertainty for another day, as he sought to simply enjoy his little victory—the compassionate woman in his arms.

Astarion joined Tav in her somnia, not yet realising that it'd be the most peaceful trance he'd had in two hundred years.

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Notes: This was the first fictional story I'd written since I was a child, and it was terrible before I revised it but people seemed to like it, anyway :). Since starting this journey, I've learned a lot, and writing has *actually* become one of my biggest passions—all thanks to *your* continued support <3

MASTERLIST (Other works by me)

#astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion x original female character #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion fluff #astarion x #astarion x f!oc #bite night

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wyvernest · 1 year

Text

tú eres mi vida

( part 1) (next part)

pairing: miguel o'hara x wife!reader

warnings: a lot of fluff, suggestiveness, foreplay?

summary: with the opportunity of a surprise, miguel makes the most of your honeymoon

He walked away from the hammock with you, hanging over his shoulder, ass in the air, making sure to keep a large hand over it, both to conceal you from wandering eyes and to grope at the plump flesh every now and then.

All you're seeing is the beaten path through the shore's sand and the junction between the beach and the hotel's green gardens. He skips the alley leading to your room, your eyes widening in amusement. You know he's good with directions, as long as you're talking about the spider-verse. Otherwise, in the blissful comfort of your honeymoon, you may have caught him further away from the stoic, attentive leader he's gotten used to being.

"Miguel, baby, you missed it. It's that way." you giggle lightly, tapping his lower back, careful enough not to make him feel bad. The last thing you want to do is blow off his mood.

"I know." His tone is confident, teasing. Your chuckles are silenced abruptly at the reply, utter perplexity taking over you. All the places and facilities around the resort flash through your head one by one, none fitting for what you were intending to do. And you haven't discussed love-making in seawater yet, either.

"Where are we going then?" you inquire, after throughout accession of all possibilities.

"Paciencia, cariño. It's a surprise." He reveals, full of pride and excitement, voice lowered and playful. You shiver, gripping into his waist to support your upper body and look around, scanning for said surprise.

He gets to the entrance of the private beach, still not stopping. With a sudden jump, he hops on the pier, your weight secure over his shoulder. You can't deny the wetness gathering in your panties at the thought of how effortlessly he carries you around, showing everyone that you're his, and most importantly, that he's about to make the most of it.

You watch the waves crashing softly against the darkened wood of the pier, clear and cold. You feel the breeze blow up over your bare thighs, shivering. He runs a hand over the exposed skin, up underneath the fabric of your flimsy skirt, stopping shy of the small mound of your cunt. You squirm slightly, needing his touch up higher, but he retracts his wandering hand and tightens his grip over you.

Finally, he reaches the water bungalows. Small huts connected by piers in a web-like distribution. Your eyes fixate on the king-size bed sheltered by wooden walls on all sides, except for the one facing the sea. Open and free, white curtains flowed by the bed frames, carried on the wind's wings like sails on a ship.

His knees hit the bed before he lays you down on the soft, clean, white mattress, his back facing the open view. You shift under his shadow, scurrying back towards the bed frame, watching him crawl over to you, slow and methodical.

He grabs your ankles faster than the time it would’ve taken you to escape and rile him up further, pulling you under him so that he’s straddling your hips, holding you in place. You lift yourself on your elbows, attempting to move your legs out of the cage, gazing up at him.

“What d’you think?” He asks, toying with the elastic of your skirt.

“I’ve never been happier.”

You drop your head back down on the bed, having stopped fighting the impossible hold he’s forced you in, between his muscular thighs. He smiles sweetly, satisfied with himself.

“It’s been almost impossible to find one of these available. But now that I have you here,”, he bends down, an inch away from your face. His hot breath fans your mouth, and you take it all in, the scent of him, the fresh bedding, the sea breeze. Your eyelids fall heavy, and he closes the gap between you, kissing you slowly, unhurriedly, like you have all eternity to spend together in paradise, and you’re just getting started. And maybe that’s exactly what it is.

You taste his lips, strawberry sweet and ever loving, feeling your eyes roll back at the sensation. He cups your face with one hand, holding you from fainting, and you let him lead. You feel his body move against yours, yearning to be closer and closer. His happy trail rubs onto your stomach, skin to skin. Every ridge of his defined abdomen pushes down onto you, chest rising and falling with each breath.

Struggling to keep up with the kiss, you sense his hands drift lower, to your waist, and you flinch ever so slightly, muscle memory kicking in. You mentally pray that he won’t–

And he does. He resumes his earlier attack, tickling you and abusing all the sensitive and funny spots he knows so well.

You scream through the uncontrollable laughter, fragments of his name that he otherwise hears in a different context, but which he adores nonetheless. His grip loosens momentarily, and you slip away like a cobra in desert sand. Before you can manage to get up and make a run for it, he grabs onto your skirt, his talons ripping through the material, leaving you in your shirt and panties. You protest, but he’s quick to drag you back on the bed. He laughs wholeheartedly, pinning you to the white sheets. You’re more than certain that the racket can be heard from miles away, but you couldn’t care less.

In an attempt to shield yourself, you bring your arms to your sides, tears already rolling down your eyes as you’re running out of breath and energy. He stops, and squeezes his thighs around your waist. You’re not leaving.

As he gathers the white sheets, pulling them over you both, you try to ignore the weight of his half-hard cock that’s now resting on your midriff. Or not.

You run your hands up his burly thighs, over his hip bone and up his abdomen, feeling the muscles ripple with his movements. He gives you a knowing look, bringing the sheet over his head, trapping you in a semi-transparent cocoon.

“Who’s gonna see us? The fish?”, you manage to say, feeling the remnants of an explosive giggle kick back in right after you’ve calmed down.

“I’m not taking any chances. There are speedboats.” he mumbles, as he adjusts above you.

“They’re not allowed so close to the-” he cuts off the rest of the sentence, slamming his lips onto your once again, and just like earlier, he has you melting in his arms in no time. It’s almost embarrassing how he manages to surf you through emotions so quickly and effortlessly, but you blame it on the beauty of being utterly and irrevocably in love. His lips move against yours with expert ease and precision, stopping every now and then to breathe, barely breaking away, as your exhales mix together in desperation and fascination.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist, basking in the heat of his body radiating down on you. A groan reverberates in his chest at the action, resulting in him moaning in your mouth.

You continue to make out in the cool shade of the bungalow, sheltered from the blazing July sun, and every second you feel like it’s the first time again, butterflies in your stomach, heart about to burst.

When he finally parts from you, chest heaving, eyes half lidded, you feel as if you’ve been cut from a lifeline. He moves to your flushed cheeks, the kisses are open-mouthed and slow.

“Te amo. Tu eres mi alma”, he kisses below your temple, “mi corazón-”, he moves to your jaw and right below it, “-mi vida.”

He licks at your neck, kissing the sensitive skin with insistence, pressing himself closer to you.

“Y siempre lo serás.”

link to part one!

translations:

paciencia - patience

tú eres mi alma - you are my soul

y siempre lo serás - and always will be

a/n: ill do a part 3 i actually love this whole honeymoon idea:) i hope its at the very least a bit original with the bungalow and all that

ALSO if you're a native latin spanish speaker please correct me im here to learn and write him as well as i can<3

+thank you everyone for the AMAZING feedback ive received for the first part!! i really hope you like this one and the next just as much

taglist:

@cooch1ecruncher @nvkdjnvjkd @tsukkie-daisuke @noahspector

(it won't let me tag everyone, sorry if i missed you)

#miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x you

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zuzusexytiems · 2 years

Text

I think the minority of people complaining about Huntlow being "rushed" or "lacking development" need to remember that Disney cancelled the series before the crew got a chance to flesh out the dynamic even further.

We found out yesterday that the crew has been keeping their Huntlow sketches for TWO YEARS. From that alone, it's clear that the ship's existence wasn't a spur of the moment decision.

They planned Huntlow ahead.

And we probably would've gotten actual Huntlow-centric episodes if Disney hadn't canceled, the way we did with Raeda and Lumity.

All in all, I think Dana and the crew did an amazing job. They shook the world with Huntlow DESPITE having limited episodes. It's subtle, yes, but it happens in a way that you can't miss it.

Now imagine if we had more.

Anyway. I understand why there are people who don't like the ship for their own personal reasons—that's valid.

But imo, it's unfair to the crew if that reason is Huntlow "lacked development."

They've done their best with what very little they had. And they still did it amazingly.

#huntlow #the owl house #this is a twt repost btw! I don't have owl house moots there #plus the character limit frustrates me :/

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baldval · 6 months

Note

do you also do polyamorous things? could we have romantic headcanons with the vee's and a very childish reader? (sorry, I'm very silly!!!)

would prefer a gn!reader, but fem or male is always fine too!

if you don't do poly things, then just velvette is fine!

-🍋 anon

DATING THE VEES HEADCANONS!₊˚⊹♡

characters: velvette, valentino, vox, x gn!reader (poly)

warnings: cursing, nfsw headcanons later on.

a/n: i respect all ships, but personally i am a firm believer of poly!vees and, obviously, love this request!!!!

SFW:

ʚɞ without fail, vox would be the one to wake up eary and make breakfast for all of you.

ʚɞ "you're all so fucking lazy, perhaps you could try to do something?"

ʚɞ secretly, he loves to cook.

ʚɞ he'll never admit to it but you all know it.

ʚɞ as vox's alarm wakes you all up, velvette gives both valentino and you sweet good morning kisses.

ʚɞ meanwhile, valentino grumbles something into the soft flesh of your thigh.

ʚɞ very much not a morning person.

ʚɞ vox is used to hammering away for hours alone in his office, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get a bit lonely.

ʚɞ would be delighted to find you and velvette lingering to spend time with him and watching him work.

ʚɞ whereas valentino is pretty much the exact opposite.

ʚɞ 'clingy' is an understatement.

ʚɞ constantly all over the both of you.

ʚɞ genuinely doesn't matter who is around, he will hold your waist and plant a kiss on your lips natural as anything.

ʚɞ a hand on your hip as he hugs velvette by her shoulder.

ʚɞ "come on vox, you've been in there for hours." you whine

ʚɞ "i'll be done in a minute darling."

ʚɞ when she's between work, velvette loves to experiment with novel ideas for her clothing line.

ʚɞ often shows new things to you first to get your opinion.

ʚɞ one day you asked her to teach you how to sew, to which she answered with such excitement it was almost to the point of giddy.

ʚɞ val loves it when he's working and you just enter his office and sit on his legs.

ʚɞ his arms surrounding your figure.

ʚɞ vox loves when you play helpless damsel with little things, even when he knows you're exaggerating.

ʚɞ enjoys seeing you struggle

ʚɞ and when you give him puppy eyes.

ʚɞ watches you with a loving smirk.

ʚɞ "let me take care of it, darling"

ʚɞ you all love riling vox up when you know he has somewhere to be.

ʚɞ "what if we made out right now? would you still want to leave?" you tease.

ʚɞ he’s embarrassingly affected by your kisses and caresses.

ʚɞ and how you all always manage to make him late.

NSFW:

ʚɞ velvette tends to be a very rough and demanding top.

ʚɞ topping velvette is rare, but absolutely a glorious experience to be a part of.

ʚɞ whereas vox is much more giving.

ʚɞ he still needs praise tho.

ʚɞ "you look so good on top of me, it's amazing".

ʚɞ "hmm... please- keep doing that."

ʚɞ valentino is the textbook definition of a power bottom.

ʚɞ he's always the one to get impatient and jealous during sex.

ʚɞ especially when velvette or vox are taking up too much of you for too long.

ʚɞ "hurry up," he'd mumble while sucking at the skin of your neck.

ʚɞ but velvette ignores him, her mouth steadfastly doing the lord's work between your legs.

ʚɞ she's fond of the brat but not about to rush your pleasure over it.

ʚɞ besides, she know you all can think of a few better ways to shut valentino up.

#🍋 anon #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox x reader #cursed cat alastor #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #velvette hazbin hotel #velvette x reader #the vees hazbin hotel #the vees #the vees x reader

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readychilledwine · 4 months

Text

Threesome

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth ✨️

Threesomes fall into a few different play types: domination, voyeurism and exhibitionist, and Zelophilia *jealousy play/competition play* and there is a ton of psychologically behind why couples or even singles looking for new fun may partake in one. Threesomes are so desired in the kink community for a few reasons. Here's a few of the most common:

Polyamory - Some people genuinely do enjoy sexual and non sexual connections with multiple partners, so threesomes are a natural outcome of that mindset and lifestyle. It isn't for everyone, but for those who enjoy having multiple partners, there is nothing more satisfying than getting to express the love and joy you all share in one mess of flesh and sweat.

Sexuality exploration (especially among the bisexual community) - it helps allow you to explore questioning sexuality or known sexuality with multiple genders, two people of the same gender, gender fluid people. It can also help if you have a bisexual partner who misses the touch and feel of the sex they are not currently with.

And rekindling - a threesome is an exciting new experience a lot of people do not commonly get to try due to insecurity, jealousy, lack of foundation and trust in the relationship, but when/if you are lucky enough to get to have one, it's. So. Thrilling. It is a new person you get to show off for, a new performance, a new stimulant. It can help rekindle passion, bring new spark, and in some cases teach new methods and positions you haven't tried before.

Threesomes are not something to just casually throw into your love life, though. Threesomes can destroy a relationship as quickly as they can add to it. You have to make sure you and your partner agree on your third that boundaries are set and understood and that you both feel secure. Otherwise, like we talked about with cucking, this can destroy a relationship fast.

Also, before the ask even comes in. Yes. The answer to your question is yes, because at least one of you is going to secretly wonder and possibly send the anon.

💕Peep the Kink Bingo Masterlist Here💕

✨️ As always, NSFW below cut ✨️

Lucien x Reader x Azriel

Warnings - dom!Lucien, sub!reader, switch!Azriel, oral (m and f), competitiveness, mentions of Tamlain (which has potential as a ship 🤔), technically dp, praise kink, ps this dynamic was hard to write, so I went with my heart, hopefully it isn't disappointing.

“She doesn't even want you!” You sighed, swirling the wine you had been nursing for the past 30 minutes as Lucien and Azriel fought.

It was no wonder Elain had run and fallen straight into Tamlin's arms. The two males before you were constantly at odds with each other, constantly stroking their own egos, fighting like children trying to claim the last piece of candy, and quite frankly, they were irritating.

You sighed as your mate's winged flared in anger at that statement, "And what? Do you think she wants YOU? That's comical, Vanserra. Really." You had thanked the Mother and Cauldron for Azriel daily, you truly had, but something about Lucien had captured your mind, and the male, still upset about his own bond failing due to your mate, had taken advantage of that. That didn't stop you from loving Azriel, though. From wanting him. From wanting both of them.

You two had not planned on falling in love with both, but here you were, married to Lucien due to a drunken night in Adriata and mated to Azriel.

You didn't understand why Elain felt the need to choose and to chase. You could have them both if you wanted, and just to prove that point, you untied the satin robe you were wearing, revealing the lack of clothing underneath. Lucien was the first to notice as Azriel continued ranting. His hand had gone to your thigh instantly, eyes locked on your own as he devoured the sight before him. You reached for his shirt, pulling you to him and settling him on top of you. “You sure?” It took Lucien's husky voice dripping in desire for Azriel's shadows to curl his ears, whispering that you were staring at him, waiting.

“I want you both. Please.” Lucien was more than happy to oblige, placing soft kisses down your body, relishing in every noise as Azriel stared, eyes wide in lust and shock.

Lucien wasted no time, going to where you wanted him most and nipping at your inner thigh as he placed them over his shoulders. Lucien looked up at you, eyes locking on yours as he took his first lick at your core. He smirked with pride as your head fell back, a mix of a moan and sigh leaving your throat. You reached on hand to Azriel, the other tangling into Lucien's hair. Azriel moved to you, breath slightly hitched. He squatted down by you, grabbing your throat gently right as Lucien locked your bundle of nerves between his lips, licking and sucking on it.

Azriel held you in place for him, a smirk growing on his face. “Look so pretty like this, baby,” his free hand moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples and groaning as he watched you try to squirm only to be held in place by Lucien. Azriel tutted you softly, “Be good for Lucien, sweetness. Gotta listen and stay where he wants you, or I'll just play with him while you watch.”

Lucien groaned against you, fingers squeezing your thighs as if he enjoyed the thought of that. He looked up at you, one eye whirling to search for any sign of discomfort, the other blown out with lust and need.

Lucien didn't eat you out like a male starved. No, every lick and suck was methodically planned. It served a purpose to send wave after wave of pleasure down nerves begging for more and more. You heard Azriel's clothing coming off, and you felt the room shift as you got closer. “Hurry up and finish her off, Lucien. The quicker we get her onto the bed, the sooner you find out what a gift her mouth is.” You whimpered, drooling at the thought of choking on Lucien. "You want that, don't you, y/n?"

Azriel forced you to nod, laughing at your big eyes and quick submission. Azriel pushed Lucien's head further into your cunt, watching with heated eyes as your head went back further into the pillows, breathing becoming more shallow and rushed. "Gods, she's fucking close. Look at you, Lucien, making our girl so happy. Do you want her to cum for you?” Lucien grabbed your thighs higher, pulling you into him more and moaning at Azriel's hand, tugging and tangling in his red locks. "How lucky am I? Two beautiful submissive little creatures both so eager to please.”

You felt Lucien's smirk, knowing he had just as much of a dominant streak in him. You were just happy to be there. To play the part of this needy creature, especially if it meant drowning in pleasure. Lucien pushed a finger into you, curling it and chuckling as you gasped his name, toes curling. He focused on you and you alone, not even watching as Azriel went down to you whispering in your ear as his scarred hands tweaked and played with your nipples.

You were a mess for them already. Core drenched and begging, clenching around Lucien's single finger tighter and tighter as your moans and cries began louder. Falling over the edge with Lucien was always easy. He didn't make you see stars. He made you see worlds. He made you cry and beg. It was no different with an audience. Lucien forced you over that edge, hands tangling into his hair, screaming his name, and coaxing little noise after noise of over stimulation from you once your high ended. And then jealousy flooded that bond you shared with Azriel.

Azriel lifted you from the couch as Lucien watched, taking you over to your bed and tossing you down with effort. Lucien seemed surprised by the smile that appeared in your face as you got onto your knees, hands roaming Azriel's chest as the male pulled your hair back and forced you into a rough kiss.

You held a hand out to Lucien as he did, a quiet invitation to join you two instead of just watching. Perhaps it was selfish, but you wanted his hands on you, wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel both of them. Lucien came to the bed and started kissing down your neck, warm hands resting on your hips. “So fucking beautiful, baby,” his voice caressed your ear, sending shivers up and down your body.

Azriel pulled apart, hazel eyes filled with lust. His hand went to Lucien's face, and his thumb traced his plush lips. “I believe she thinks the same thing about you.” Azriel ran his hand down to Lucien's throat, squeezing it softly, “Are you going to be a good boy and listen?”

It was then that you giggled, and Lucien smirked, “Are you?” The question sent electricity through the air. It bought a new challenge, a new competition between the two males. You scooted away as Azriel studied Lucien, watching and waiting. “I promise you this is a game I will win,” Lucien raised a brow to Azriel. “Can you handle that?”

For the first time in the many years of friendship you and Azriel shared, you saw him blush, “I-”

“Let us take care of you, Azriel,” the domination in Lucien's tone was so gentle. “When's the last time someone took care of you?” Lucien stood and moved Azriel to sit on the bed. With a quiet authority, he used two fingers to beacon you over to him. “Lovely, I want you to undress him for us.”

“Yes sir,” Your hands went to the clasps around Azriel's wings, undoing them while you kissed the side of his neck. Once the back was able to free his wings, you moved in front of him, hands running over the smooth fabric before pulling the shirt off.

You had to resist the urge to lick every dark bargain tattoo to trace each swirl like you knew Azriel loved. Lucien had given you a task. One you had to focus on. Your hands went to his pants, and he stood to allow you to slide them and his underwear down. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. It was hard, leaking, ready. Lucien grabbed you by the back of your neck, stopping you from what you desperately wanted to do. “Hands and knees on the bed. You have to be good to earn his cock.”

Azriel watched you obey in silence. Lucien wasn't forcing. He wasn't rough, and he didn't have you screaming and drooling. He just commanded and used gentle touches, and you obeyed. “Do you want to get her ready, or do you want me to?”

“I will,” Azriel ran a hand over your ass and Lucien stopped him before he could spank you.

“Be gentle with our girl. She's been such a good listener. She deserves soft tonight.” Azriel could hardly understand what that meant, what being soft in bed meant. “Submission is a gift. Look at how easily she handed us that present. Doesn't she deserve to be treated well for being such a good girl?”

Azriel felt a wave of something setting in. If he was good, would he get a reward? Would he get to be loved this gently? He ran a finger through your core, making you cry out, and slowly, he pushed it in. You felt your eyes roll as he did, feeling yourself stretching around just his finger.

You had always told Azriel how much you loved his scars, and it took him fingering you 3 times for him to find out why. He began to open you slowly, pressing each movement in the area he knew you loved the most. Lucien leaned down and captured Azriel's mouth in a long overdue kiss.

This is what they needed the whole time. And outlet to their mutual attraction. A place they could safely explore each other. Lucien began to stroke Azriel's cock as Azriel added another finger inside of you. Your moans and cried were background music to them as Lucien pulled his mouth away. “Do you want her pussy or her mouth? I'm more than happy to just watch you fuck her while she sucks me off.”

Azriel hummed, “She's more than capable of handling-”

“She wants one of us in her mouth. We've had enough sex at this point while you've been enjoying the pleasure houses that I know her. If she was in the mood for anal, she'd be very vocal about it.”

Azriel's fingers pressed hard into your gspot, making you scream his name. “Please. I need more. I need-”

“Don't beg,” Azriel growled at you. Lucien glared as you whimpered in submission. “I also know her. Look at how wet and ready she is. She could handle it.”

“It's not a question of can or can't, Az. It's if she wants to. Y/n, what do you want?”

Azriel felt your core Tighten around him, pleased Lucien cared about your wants and needs. “Not anal,” Lucien motioned towards you after your answer.

“If you let me pick, I'm taking her mouth,” Lucien said plainly.

Azriel huffed and nodded, “I've never been this gentle with her.”

“Clearly. She loves it. Look at her.” It was true you did. You were relaxed in a state of complete bliss, moaning as Azriel's fingers touched all the best places. Azriel was memorized by the sight. By you not bending and breaking to his will as a dom, but flowing and thriving under another male's. You listened without question, didn't mouth off to Lucien. This side of you, this pretty girl, he liked her almost as much as he loved his little brat.

He loved the part of you that sassed him, that pushed him, but this, this beautiful offering of whatever they wanted as long as you wanted it as well, it made his heart flutter. Azriel moved behind you as Lucien moved in front of you. Your hand was instantly on the Day Court heir’s cock, stroking him in time with Azriel's fingers. “Whenever you're ready, Az,” Lucien was staring into your eyes as he spoke. “She's ready.”

Azriel took his fingers out, coating himself in your essence before lining up with you. Taking Azriel was always a stretch, and Lucien praised you both all the way through it, “Look at how good you two are. Perfect little pets for me, aren't you?”

Azriel groaned at his words as he began a gentle but deep pace. He hit every spot so perfectly filling you like your body had been made for him. You focused then on Lucien's aching cock, moaning as you licked your way up and took the head into your mouth. Lucien relaxed on his knees, wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he guided you in time with Azriel.

It did not take long for the pace to get frenzied, for the two males to be focused in bringing you to completion again in order to allow them to chase their own highs.

Each moan around Lucien had his head falling back, and each twitch of your core had Azriel cursing. You could feel heat rising and building. You could feel core lower stomach getting tight in need.

Azriel looked to Lucien and the male smirked and nodded. You screamed as Azriel began pounding into you. His thrusts became rough and deep. He arched your back more allowing him to hit your gspot over and over as he pushed you further onto Lucien's cock.

Lucien smirked down at you, “This is when you look prettiest, you know that? Choking on a cock, stuffed full. You look so pretty when your eyes glaze over and you get desperate. You want to cum, don't you angel?” You could only moan around him in response as Azriel grabbed your arms, leaving you fully at their mercy and forcing your muscles to strain.

The heat in the room grew to a roaring fire as the noise of slick and skin meeting skin rang in the air. You could feel that boil threatening to burst, feel it aching as you were used by the two males you love. This was heaven. It was safety. It was burning passion. A shadow moved to your clit and you lost it. Moan became whines and whimpers.

You could tell Lucien was close. His eyes were screwed shut. His pace in your mouth was sloppy. Between your tongue, the vibrations of your pleasure, and newness of the 3 of you together, you could feel him twitching, feel him ready to release.

He held you to him as he came, and Azriel continued pounding. You swallowed every drop of him greedily and whined as he pulled out. “She's so close,” Lucien forced you to look at Azriel.

Your mate smirked before planting one foot on the bed and his pace became impossibly faster. Both males laughed as your eyes rolled in pleasure and your jaw fell open. Azriel groaned loudly as you tightened around him, “That's our good girl. Cum for us. Finish on my cock.”

With a flick of a shadow and one well aimed thrust you fell apart, screaming as you tumbled from that edge. Azriel immediately lost himself in the feel of you pulsing around him and found his release moments later, listening as Lucien praised you and talked you through your high, guiding you back to them.

You collapsed into Lucien's lap and Azriel into your back. The room was filled with the sounds of labored breathing. Azriel gently pulled out of you and Lucien took the towel the house summoned to clean you all off.

You had never been more thankful for a large bed in your life as the three of you laid there processing what had happened. “This is happening again,” you declared firmly. Lucien just nodded, and Azriel agreed softly.

"I've never handed over control," Azriel confessed softly. "I've never done that."

Lucien just smirked at his accomplishment, "Then, with me is a safe place to learn."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

Kink Bingo Taglist:

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@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra acotar #lucien acotar #lucien x reader x azriel #lucien fic #lucien smut #azriel fic #azriel smut #poly acotar fic

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mechaknight-98 · 3 months

Text

That time I got abducted by an Alien Warlord Masquerading as a K-pop Idol (NSFW) FT Jihyo

Author's note: My 100th fic and my reaching 1,500 followers coincided so I should do something special. My original thought was a Jeewon fic where she's a massive crime boss, but I had just written her. Then the next idea was a threesome, but I'm still tired from writing that foursome so that was a no-go. I was kinda stuck, I thought about going on hiatus but then Twice had a new comeback, and the idea for 8ft tall Galatic Empress Jihyo came to mind and everything fell into place. Also I guess this is the “First” Diabolos series story.

“Jihyo?” I ask. Jihyo nods her head. My brain is fuzzy as I come to from being crushed by debris

“Oh good you already know who I am,” Jihyo says pleasantly while I look her up and down. “Nice to meet you C-137 resident,” she said as she got up. Her hand outstretched to mine and I took it to shake hers. She smiled

“The name is Diabolos,” I responded taking her hand. Her aura exuded grace and power. (or maybe it was the fact that she was 8 feet tall) her smile was genuine, but something about all of this still felt off.

“You know when I was receiving reports from the Carbonicphage,” how one little being was waging a war against it single-handedly and winning I had to investigate. Imagine my surprise when I also learned that he is also part CMR-1957. Talk about special. I hate how CMR-1957 destroyed itself such a promising race filled with so much potential and promise”

“Huh,” I said confused by all the numbers. Jihyo smiled with understanding before answering.

“Oh right, you still name the new planets you find instead of indexing them based on region. C-137 is what we call earth.” Jihyo said. I nodded and she smiled again. It seemed practiced though not genuine and it set me on edge.

“Okay, penultimate question: why are you 8 feet tall?” I ask very confused.

Jihyo laughs and says, “Oh this is my true form,”

Due to the circumstances (and my brain is fried), I replied, “That's hot,” Jihyo looked at me confused before I quickly changed the subject.

“So what happens now?” I ask

Jihyo smiles and says, “Now we take over. You're race is dying anyway so well just clean up the mess you've made and dust the planet off before we can put more settlers on it. That was all I needed to hear I activated my nano email and brought out “Wings of Liberation” Jihyo smiled before saying,

“Now dear did you honestly think that your tech would scare me?” she said as multiple tendrils of steel pierced my flesh. A strange feeling surged in my body along with a searing pain. Jihyo pouted.

“I'm sorry Diabolos but you are too interesting to kill. I need to crack you open to see what makes you tick. I hope you understand it is nothing personal. ” she said as the tendrils dragged me away

Eventually, I passed out from the pain. When I found consciousness again the first thing I saw was Jihyo sitting in front of me pouting before she noticed my eyes opening.

“Oh great you're awake,” she said with a bright smile. I found my heart skip a beat and cursed the muscle for finding comfort and joy in her presence.

“So I told the other C-137 residents that we were taking over and do you know what they did? They shot at my ship. Like can you believe that? I was prepared to let them die off naturally since the endless conflicts you have will destroy your home before I do, but now I am mad.” she said fuming. The craziest part. I found myself feeling bad for her. Like from her perspective she's not used to how we do things. So her peaceful PSA may seem like a violent declaration of war to us.

“That sucks but hey it could be worse. They could have destroyed the ship.” I say with genuine empathy. Jihyo smiles and then waves her hand. Her tendrils remove themselves from me she catches me before setting me down.

“Follow me,” she says. As I dust myself I feel a bunch of conflicting feelings that I push down.

Without missing a beat Jihyo says “Stop that!”

Jihyo turns back to me and says, “You have… (she searches for the proper word) The Void embraces it. It's a part of you, not a burden.”

I look at her confused then ask, “Huh?”

“In my culture, there are those who feel/ desire with the insatiable capacity of a Black hole. Those are typically the ones who push our culture forward. We venerate them yet you suppress them. Don't do that.” Jihyo says with a smile. I return it and Jihyo smiles.

“Oh Mr grumpy finally has a smile,” Jihyo teased as I followed her

Jihyo leads me through a series of winding corridors, her pace steady and confident. The architecture of the ship is sleek and alien, filled with an otherworldly beauty that leaves me in awe despite my circumstances. As we walk, Jihyo explains more about her culture and the purpose of their exploratory and colonizing missions.

“You see, Diabolos, our people have always sought to expand and improve. We believe in the potential of every world, just as I see potential in you,” Jihyo says, her voice soft but firm.

I glance at her, trying to gauge her true intentions. “And what exactly do you want from me?”

Jihyo stops and turns to face me, her eyes intense. “I want you to embrace your true nature. You have a strength and a void within your heart that is rare and powerful. With our guidance, you could become something extraordinary.”

We enter a grand chamber, filled with advanced technology and a breathtaking view of the cosmos. Jihyo gestures for me to sit, and I do so hesitantly.

Jihyo says with a smile. I return it and Jihyo smiles.

“Oh Mr. Grumpy finally has a smile,” Jihyo teased as I followed her.

“You see, Diabolos, our people have always sought to expand and improve. We believe in the potential of every world, just as I see potential in you,” Jihyo says, her voice soft but firm, reminiscent of Hyewon’s gentle encouragement.

I glance at her, trying to gauge her true intentions. “And what exactly do you want from me?”

Jihyo stops and turns to face me, her eyes intense and unwavering, a touch of Arin’s directness in her gaze. “I want you to embrace your true nature. You have a strength and a void within your heart that is rare and powerful. With our guidance, you could become something extraordinary.”

We enter a grand chamber, filled with advanced technology and a breathtaking view of the cosmos. Jihyo gestures for me to sit, and I do so hesitantly.

The journey to Jihyo’s home planet was unlike anything I had experienced before. As we traveled through the vast expanse of space, surrounded by the hum of the ship’s engines and the distant glow of stars, I found myself drawn to Jihyo’s presence. We sat together in a quiet corner of the ship’s observation deck, watching the swirling galaxies pass by in mesmerizing patterns. While traveling Jihyo force-fed me every language of her empire, along with physical sparring sessions every day while using simulations of her planets gravity. Which ended up being a little under double Earth's. Jihyo despite my slow start was impressed at how quickly I took to everything. Something commented on during one of our shared meals.

Jihyo, with her usual grace, broke the silence. “You know, Diabolos, most beings who visit our planet find it difficult to adjust to our gravity. I’m impressed that you took to it so quickly.” My heart raced despite my reluctance around her. She seemed to genuinely care about me but she also stole me from my planet like I was a stray.

I chuckled softly. “It wasn’t easy at first, but I suppose being a Hybrid Demon King has its perks.” I glanced at Jihyo, catching the soft curve of her smile in the dim light. “You seem quite at home in space. Is this where you spend most of your time?”

Jihyo nodded, her eyes reflecting the starlight. “Yes, overseeing our exploratory missions keeps me occupied. But I must admit, having a companion like you on this journey makes it more enjoyable.” I found myself smiling words and some not-so-pure thoughts raced through my head.

I felt a warmth spread through him at my words. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s not often I find someone who can keep up with me.”

Jihyo tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh? And here I thought you preferred the solitude of battles and conquests.”

I chuckled again, feeling a newfound ease in Jihyo’s presence. “I do enjoy a good fight, but I’ve come to appreciate moments like these—quiet, reflective.”

I found myself drawn to Jihyo’s intellect and wit, her perspectives on life and leadership offering me new insights.

As the ship continued its journey through the cosmos, I couldn’t deny the growing attraction I felt towards Jihyo. Her confidence and poise, coupled with a genuine curiosity about me, stirred something within me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Before long, we found ourselves standing side by side at the observation deck’s viewport, watching a distant nebula unfold in vibrant hues of blue and purple. Jihyo’s shoulder brushed against mine before leaving her head on my shoulder, and I turned to meet her gaze.

“You know,” Jihyo began softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the gentle hum of the ship, “there’s something about you, Diabolos. Something that intrigues me beyond your prowess in battle.”

I met her gaze, my heart racing at the intensity in her eyes. “And what might that be, Jihyo?”

Her smile was luminous against the backdrop of the cosmos. “I believe it’s your capacity for change, for embracing new possibilities. You’re more than just a warrior; you’re a catalyst for transformation. No, you're beyond that you are a nexus point where you move the worlds around you. ”

Our words hung in the air between them, charged with unspoken meaning. I reached out, gently placing my hand over Jihyo’s, feeling a surge of connection that transcended words or worlds.

“Perhaps,” I murmured, my voice tinged with uncertainty yet hope, “perhaps that’s why our paths have crossed.”

Jihyo’s fingers intertwined with mine, a silent affirmation of understanding. “Perhaps indeed,” she replied, her eyes holding a promise of adventures yet to come. I felt a pang in my heart my desires simmering just beneath the surface.

Together, under the canopy of stars, we stood united in the vastness of the universe, on the brink of a journey that would challenge us both in ways we had never imagined, but this nagging thought kept recurring.

“You speak of potential and strength, but what about mercy and compassion? Do those not have a place in your world?” I ask, my voice tinged with defiance.

Jihyo’s smile fades slightly, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “Mercy and compassion are seen as weaknesses in our culture. They are sentiments that can be exploited. But perhaps, in time, you could help us understand their value,” she adds, showing a hint of Hyewon’s warmth and openness.

I nod, and Jihyo takes me to her home world.

It’s beautiful. The architecture is menacing but elegant. The air is crisp and clear. As I walk out of the ship, Jihyo gestures for me to be careful as their gravity is much higher than Earth’s. I nod. When the door opens, I feel the weight of the world (literally) crush me. Jihyo goes to steady me, but I shoo her hand away as I stand up.

“I stand on my own,” I say. Jihyo smiles, watching me take my first few steps proudly on her homeworld. As I take further steps, Jihyo encourages me to be free.

“Cast your burden of normalcy aside,” she says, her words genuine and soothing, akin to Hyewon’s nurturing support. I release a tension in my gut I didn’t know was there. When I open my eyes, all I see is Jihyo’s brilliant smile. Her touch lingers on my “horns” as she caresses them, shivers arcing throughout my body.

As we walk through the city, I feel a weight cast off my chest. Although it felt like I was carrying my weight plus 415 pounds, Jihyo led me into a restaurant. Despite the looks I get from the other members of Jihyo's race, I ask:

“Hey, Suny, what is your race called?”

Jihyo’s smile is bright. “Was that a pet name?” she teases, a playful glint in her eyes reminiscent of Arin’s boldness. I sit back, then think.

“No, there’s no going back now,” Jihyo says before grabbing my hand. Her touch is sensational; it feels like every nerve is on fire. I am filled with a boldness that I had long thought I intentionally diminished.

“Yes, it was,” I say confidently, “Now answer the question.” The stares surrounding me seem impressed instead of judgmental upon hearing that. Jihyo smiles.

“Spoken like a true Pharo,” Jihyo says before taking me into an intense kiss. My heart races at the smell of her perfume (the closest equivalent I could think of was orchids and lilies). When she breaks it, she smiles and licks her lips.

“Let’s skip the meal. You need a fight,” she says. I nod, ramped up and raring to go.

Being the Empress of the Pharo empire has its privileges, one of which is arranging a pitched battle at almost any time.

My blood races through my body despite my fatigue. I have never felt so alive. Before the fight, Jihyo sits next to me.

“Oh, you’re ready,” she says. “I see it in your eyes.” I smile and get up.

“When you win, I’ll have a reward for you,” she says, smiling brightly. I smile and head out to the pitch.

Jihyo proudly announced to her people, “Ladies and gentlemen today we have a very interesting pitch fight for you. Our very own pitch fight champion Priam vs. The Hybrid Demon King from C-137 Diabolos.” at that moment I had never felt more seen for who I was and I basked in it. “This is where I belong,” I thought to myself “I'm the king” were the only thoughts in my head as I got ready for battle. Priam Faced me he stood 10 feet 4 inches tall and carried with him a massive sword. I smiled as I activated my nanomail and unsheathing wings. Priam smiled. In a bright flash, he lunged his blade at me. I blocked with an axe form of wings which made Priam smile

“Oh okay.” he retreated but I pressed on. The offensive. I jumped and swung the axe to his chest. Electricity arcing off mine.

Prima smiled as he released fire from his sword I blocked his swing with my axe. He looked at me and said, “I know you have more go for it.”

So I oblige him. My armor transforms again as more hyper-blade jets cover me along with more electricity and other energies flowing through me. Priam claps seeing this but doesn't expect my next attack. I jump in the air and barrel towards him at near the speed of light. He smiles as he is launched out of the ring. The arena is silent before the crowd cheers my name

“DIABOLOS! DIABOLOS!” they repeat again and again. I feed on that energy and acclaim and pound on my chest. In the crowd, I make eye contact with Jihyo whose eyes look at me with a hungered fervor. She smiles graciously

After the battle, Jihyo brought me into her home, and honestly, it was not what I expected. Instead of a grand place, it was a humble 4-bedroom home. I found myself more at ease. We sit on her love seat and she says.

“I watched your fights with the Carbonicphage and the one they call Haiabd and I noticed that. You held back against them. Why?”

I pondered Jihyo’s words before answering “It's hard to fight when all your opponents feel like they are made of paper,” Jihyo nodded and asked

“What about my world how does it feel?”

Her eyes held an intense gaze that reminded me of Arin.

“I love it here. I have never felt as free to be me. I don't have to suppress or stuff anything down. I can walk and talk how I like.” I respond while gazing into her big soothing eyes.

“That's good I knew you belonged here. While not born a pharo you certainly have our spirit.” Jihyo says happily as she kisses me. I breathed in her perfume again as my brain scrambled. Guilt danced at the frayed edges of my mind, but here with Jihyo, it felt correct. It felt like home or at least what I wanted out of a home. Emotionally nourished as well as physically.

I spent the next several weeks maybe months (time is weird here) just training and spending almost all my time with Jihyo. I fought in 4 more pitch battles. I won 3 and lost one, to Jihyo. I felt my attraction for her growing by the day, as she began to nestle herself into the same space that Arin and Hyewon held.

The pitch was empty, save for Jihyo and I The vast arena was a testament to the grandeur and power of the Pharo, its architecture both intimidating and awe-inspiring. We had just finished a grueling training session, and the sun beginning to set on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape.

Jihyo stretched lazily, her movements graceful and feline. "You know, for someone who’s never taken anything seriously, you’re a surprisingly good company and an exceptional leader," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I chuckled, leaning against one of the pillars. "Is that your way of saying you enjoy my presence, Jihyo?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Don’t let it go to your head, Demon King. I’m just saying you’re not as insufferable as you look."

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips. "Coming from the Empress of Insufferability herself, I’ll take that as a compliment."

Jihyo feigned offense, placing a hand over her heart. "Oh, you wound me, Diabolos. Here I thought we were becoming friends."

I laughed, the sound deep and genuine. "Friends, huh? Is that what you call this?" I gestured between them.

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, I did say you’re good company. Maybe I even like having you around."

I met her gaze, my eyes searching hers as my heart raced. "Careful, Jihyo. I might start thinking you have a soft spot for me."

She tilted her head, a slow smile spreading across her face. “I do. Despite your race’s propensity for weakness, you rise to every occasion I have set. It's becoming a thrill just to make new obstacles for you plus I just like the challenge you present. You’re not like the others."

"And you like that?"I asked, my tone turning serious for a moment.

"I do," she admitted. "You’re different, and it’s intriguing. Keeps me on my toes. Even when compared to other Pharos you have this drive to win no matter what and you give everything to do so. It inspiring"

I leaned in, our faces inches apart. "Well, I’m glad I can keep the mighty Empress intrigued."

Jihyo's gaze flickered to my lips for a brief second before meeting my eyes again. "Just don’t get too comfortable. I still expect you to keep up with me."

I grinned. "Wouldn’t dream of doing anything less. In fact, I hope to surpass you"

We shared a moment of silence, the tension between us palpable yet pleasant. Jihyo broke it with a light laugh, pulling back and gesturing to the center of the pitch. "Come on, let’s see if you can handle another round. I can’t have you thinking you’ve already won me over."

I followed her, my grin widening. "Winning you over, huh? Is that a challenge?"

Jihyo looked over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You wish, Demon King. You wish." I may have not won her over but she has stolen my heart

We get back to her home after training for 7 hours. Jihyo is impressed by something she makes known as I head into her house to shower and when I exit.

When we got back Pharos Jihyo was exhausted as was I. The battle celebration would have to wait as we headed to her home. We headed to her bathroom to rinse the stains of battle from us we entered her large bath together. The tension between us was intense. My body was giving me all the signals to mount Jihyo then, but my mind told me not to. Our eyes lock, and Jihyo’s look sets my aching loins ablaze.

“You have grown so strong here,” she says. Eyes fully dilated. I nod and she remarks.

“Okay enough foreplay” before pouncing on me

Jihyo smiles before kissing me. I feel my hands go to her heaving tits and I grab them unconsciously.

“Oh my,” she says and I instantly freeze. I retract my hands and Jihyo pouts.

“Why Did you do that? I know you've been thinking about it?” she said. I look at her worried. Jihyo slaps me.

“Take what you want,” she says. She slaps me again and repeats her words before my horns come out and she smiles. I rip her blouse open revealing her tits and grope them before going in for another kiss. Jihyo moans in my mouth as she slips her hand into my pants. Despite her size and strength her touch is exceedingly gentle. She breaks this kiss and says, “What do you want?”

“I wanna fuck those fat tits, and fill your cunt to the brim. I want to mark your entire body. I want you to know who you belong to. I want you to know who you belong with?”

Jihyo moaned and said, “Then take it.”

I slipped into another kiss with Jihyo. She lowers herself to my crotch before wrapping her beautiful breasts around my cock. She smiles.

“How's that?” she asks.

“So good” I moan out

Slow is not in Jihyo’s vocabulary she rails me with her boobs and I try my best not to cum too earlier but she takes that as a challenge.

Her intensity increases as she says, “cum for me. Please it'll be good I promise. I want you to feel good. Come on, please. I need it. You need it too. Let go” Her eagerness gets the better of me as I explode all over her tits. She smiles happily and massages my seed into her mounds. Watching her basking in my cum is enough to get me hard again. Without a second thought, I pick her up out of the bath with a strength I didn't know I had (reminder she is 8 feet 3 inches or so) and carry her to her bed. She smiles as she shimmies her pretty tits for me. My cock begs to be inside her as I watch her enraptured. She smiles and says

“Fill my cunt to the brim,” she encourages. I nod and thrust into her tight sex. She moans like a banshee. When I bottom out her eyes focus on me and I'm captivated by her eyes. Her look was fierce and determined. Her walls clutch me like a warm wet hug as I continue to plow her. I groan as her pussy sloshed under me. A light sheen of sweat begins to cover her body as in the golden hour her tan skin radiates even more of her beauty. I smile which she mirrors and she says,” cum” Her words spur me on and I absolutely flood her pussy.

Jihyo smiles and says, “Well you certainly filled me.” I landed next to her and she was all smiles. I grabbed her and hugged her tight as I passed out exhausted.

The next day had been long, filled with negotiations and boring peace talks. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, Jihyo and I found ourselves on a quiet balcony overlooking the capital city of Pharos: Cairo. The bustling sounds of the city below seemed distant from our perch, creating a serene atmosphere.

I leaned against the railing, my eyes scanning the horizon thoughtfully, before turning back to Jihyo, who stood beside me. Her presence was a calming influence amidst the evening breeze.

“It’s beautiful,” Jihyo remarked softly, her gaze fixed on the fading light. “Pharos has a way of captivating you, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, having now almost been here a full year. I had accepted Pharos as my home. “It’s different from Earth, but there’s a majesty to it. A strength that resonates through everything here.”

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle rustling of the wind and the distant hum of the city below.

“You know,” Jihyo began, her voice quiet and introspective, “for all the battles we fight and the challenges we face, moments like this remind me of why we fight. It’s not just about power or dominance. It’s about preserving something greater than ourselves.”

I turned to look at her, a smile forming. “So you do think about other things besides competition and winning,” I teased.

Jihyo pouted. “Relax, Yoyo. You have a way of seeing things. A perspective that goes beyond the battlefield.”

She met my gaze, her eyes reflecting a depth of emotion. “I’ve seen too much not to appreciate moments of peace. Pharos is my home, but it’s moments like this—with you—that make it feel truly alive.”

A gentle smile tugged at my lips. “I’m glad I can share this with you.”

We stood together in silence, the fading light casting shadows around us. Her hand found purchase in mine. In that quiet moment, amidst the chaos of our world, Jihyo’s softer side shone through—a leader who cherished peace as much as she did strength, finding solace in the presence of someone who understood her in ways words couldn’t fully express.

She chuckled and said, “Demon King, I have something for you.”

I turned to her, tilting my head in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace.

Jihyo rolled her eyes. “When I found you, you had two rings. They were broken, but I had Priam reforge them into this drill core. I hope you like it.”

I smiled at her gesture and happily took the necklace, but my heart was heavy. Arin and Hyewon were probably worried sick about me, and here I was, going on a cosmic adventure. banging a space milf… I know Jihyo wasn't a milf but you get the idea.

Jihyo sensed my turmoil and said, “If they cared about you, they would have come for you. Or at least we’d be hearing stories about people looking for you.” Her words cut deep, but before I could respond, she pulled me in for a kiss.

I fell under her spell, my worries slipping away. At that moment, I fully embraced being a Pharos. Jihyo sensed the change in me and smiled. “Now,” she said softly, “let’s go home.”

We arrive at our place and Jihyo smiles.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you more,” she says back

The next day Jihyo and I lounge around the home enjoying the peace. During the night was a peace festival

The Pharos festival was in full swing, vibrant lights casting a warm glow over the bustling city of Cairo. The air was filled with laughter, music, and the tantalizing aroma of local delicacies. Jihyo and Diabolos walked side by side through the crowded streets, their hands occasionally brushing against each other.

"What's this?" Diabolos asked, pointing to a colorful stand filled with intricate masks.

Jihyo grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's a tradition. We wear these masks and dance through the night. It's meant to symbolize shedding our burdens and embracing our true selves."

Diabolos picked up a mask adorned with shimmering scales, his fingers tracing the delicate craftsmanship. "Sounds like fun. Which one should I choose?"

Jihyo selected a mask for herself, its design elegant and fierce. "Try this one," she suggested, handing me the mask. "It suits you."

We donned our masks and joined the dancing crowd. The music was infectious, and I found myself moving to the rhythm, my worries and responsibilities melting away. Jihyo danced beside me, her movements graceful and free, a side of her I rarely saw.

As the night wore on, We found ourselves at the edge of the crowd, catching our breath. Jihyo removed my mask and I removed hers to see her big smile.

"This is incredible," I said, my voice filled with awe. "I never imagined a place like this."

Jihyo smiled, her expression softening. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."

We head back home and Jihyo’s arousal is palpable. Her body demands sex and she intends to get it.

Jihyo cornered me in our little home, but the line between predator and prey blurred as I took her hungrily in for a kiss. When I broke it Jihyo was dizzy her eyes unfocused on anything but me. She looked deep into my eyes before going in for another kiss. Her prey drive triggered knowing she caught me. She lifted her dress revealing her magnificent bare breasts in between frenzied kisses. Jihyo smiles.

“Someone’s excited,” she says elated at the feeling of being so desired. I was left breathless in Jihyo’s wake as she brought me in for another devouring kiss. Our hearts race as we get accustomed to each other.

“You know typically you aren’t my type, but I admit. Your boldness has captured me.” Jihyo said excitedly before pulling me to the bedroom. She pushes me onto the bed before pulling my pants down, followed by pulling my underwear out of the way. She chuckles when my cock gently smacks her face.

“Oh, this is such a nice cock.” Jihyo declares before taking me into her mouth, without hesitation, she takes me down her throat. Jihyo’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she inhales my scent; a mix of citrus and natural musk that made Jihyo want more of me.

She begins to bob her head along my shaft taking slow deliberate breaths through her nose as she focuses. As Jihyo’s core heats up from pleasure she claws into my meaty thighs. I felt electric as Jihyo’s sucked me off with a Rapacious Appetite.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned Jihyo smiled around my cock. She grabbed my balls hoping to illicit an even greater moan, and she got it. I was overwhelmed with pleasure my brain couldn’t process it. Jihyo smiled even harder as she continued but didn’t expect an explosion from me when she bottomed out again. She drank my baby batter. It was sweet and salty as she savored the taste. She got up from between my legs and stared at his unfocused but lusted over eyes. She watched as my eyes traveled all over her body eye fucking her with reckless abandon. Before I could think I was back to kissing Jihyo. Not one to be outdone she pushed herself to see how much of me could take. Her hand wandered to my cock as she began stroking me again. I was so ravenous to the point I lowered myself before Jihyo when I reached her clit I stared into her eyes before taking an exploratory lick. Jihyo moaned before smashing my face into her cunt. I began to lick and nibble everything

I made up for his lack of experience with enthusiasm. I licked and nibbled all around her pussy and clit seeing which Jihyo liked more it seemed that a counterclockwise rotation around her clit mixed with an occasional tongue insertion seemed to drive the woman wild. So using this I pushed Jihyo to orgasm. As she came all over my face her lush thighs wrapped around my skull as I continued to tongue fuck her. Jihyo shuddered as her need to be filled began to overwhelm her until she pushed me from under her. I gave her a confused look as I landed on the bed safely but when Jihyo saw my hard rod her instincts took over. She got on all fours and wiggled her sexy body enticingly.

“Come fuck me,” she said. I happily obliged. I approached her awesome ass appreciatively before piercing her pussy with my petulant penis. Her walls are as comforting as ever.

“Please be rough with me I need it,” Jihyo moaned and I slammed my hips into her. She groans out in pleasure.

“Fuck,” she says as her walls get tighter around me. I slam into her again and watching her ass bounce mesmerized me and pushed me to fuck her harder and harder. I pull her hair up and she moans.

“Yes,” she moans. The way her ass and tits bounce plus the tightness of her pussy leaves me breathless as I cum inside her. Jihyo moans before crashing down on the bed in front of me.

I go to remove my cock from Jihyo and she growls for me to leave it in. Not wanting to see the consequences of disobedience I leave myself embedded in her, as we drift off into sleep.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #twice fanfic #jihyo smut #twice jihyo #jihyo

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actuallyjustabiscuit · 3 months

Text

Ok thoughts 👏thoughts👏Everyone gather around I have thoughts about this!

Episode 2 was clearly the Pomni episode. We got to see her character get a little more fleshed out and we also got a glimpse of what motivates her which is great.

With this tweet we have solid confirmation on who the upcoming episodes will center on (thanks for not making us guess, Goose) and this lineup is really interesting.

First fascinating thing is that Kinger and Zooble share a spotlight in ep 3. Why is that? Everyone else gets their own dedicated episodes so why are they unique in that regard? What connects them?

Well, I have one idea!

So we know since the pilot that Kinger has been the one to have lived in the Circus the longest out of all of them. We’re still not sure if he was in fact the 1st human to be trapped (maybe we’ll find out in the next episode) but he definitely has the most seniority, both in age and in length of entrapment.

We also know that Zooble was the most recent character to get stuck before Pomni (and considering their attitude, it may have even been quite a while beforehand) AND is the youngest character next to Jax (they even share the same age, which could be a coincidence but it feels too deliberate of a choice).

Which means ep 2 will simultaneously focus on the oldest and the youngest of the characters.

I’m actually curious as to what their dynamic will be because they haven’t really interacted much in the pilot (and like not at all in episode 2), if they end up interacting in ep 3 at all. But mostly I’m excited to see them more fleshed out with hopefully Pomni getting the chance to bond with them (either together or separately).

My guess is that the purpose for them to share focus on an episode is to get perspective from someone who’s been there the longest and has seen more people come and go than anyone else vs. someone who was just recently in Pomni’s shoes and had probably a much different first day experience (we know Zooble cared enough about Kaufmo to personally organize his funeral so they may have some…feelings about who’s essentially his replacement).

Ep3 is also supposedly Gooseworx’s most anticipated episode so I’m extra excited.

Next we have Gangle for episode 4. I honestly don’t have a lot to say about her or the significance in her episode placement outside of her being the closest in age to Pomni (being only a year older). The only hint we get about what her episode will possibly consist of will be on how reliant she is on her ComedyMask to feel happy, which will be very interesting and we might even get some confirmation on whether her avatar was programmed with that feature upon entering the Circus or if it was an add on of sorts by Caine to help keep her sane. A pretty shitty feature if it can’t last for very long but it does make for a nice metaphor about how fragile her facade is (girl is literally masking).

Actually I don’t think her and Pomni have actually exchanged words yet in the show. Wouldn’t it be funny if they don’t up until her episode. Like Pomni is so caught up in between whatever mess episode 3 has in store for Kinger and Zooble that the two of them never actually talk and it just keeps getting more awkward. Gangle wants to talk to her but is so self-conscious about her Tragedy self that she’ll only feel safe to have a conversation if she has her mask, but it just keeps breaking before she even gets the chance.

Again this is all just speculation, if they actually end up talking in episode 3 I’ll…make ship art of them.

Yeah

Anyway, episode 5. The one I’m personally waiting for because y’all should know what I’m about by now.

*Warning: Unhinged, borderline psychotic tangent incoming*

I swear to god if Pomni and Ragatha don’t have a fucking conversation before ep 5 I will launch myself into the sun. I’ll take anything, I just need them to get real for a second. I NEED to know the extent of this woman’s damage. It has to be explored, analyzed, and dissected and I will do so with gusto when the day comes. None of these characters will be safe from my scrutiny, but Ragatha oh ho ho, you have been living rent free in my head for too long, madame. You WILL pay your dues and I intend to collect in every episode until there is not corner of your unsound mind that I have not examined in great detail!

Ahem *Straightens tie* Ok back to business

So yeah, Ragatha.

It may be because we’ve only had 2 episodes but I can’t help but feel like we’re supposed to see Ragatha as a sort of deuteragonist since out of all of the supporting characters she’s so far been getting the most focus aside from Jax, and we’ll get to him in a minute (I promise that’s not just me being biased, or maybe it is, I don’t know, you tell me).

In just two episodes we’ve seen more of what makes her tick compared to anyone else. And of the main cast she’s been the ONLY one to make any kind of connection to the main character and have enough of a meaningful interaction with her to leave an impression.

But this is what really clinched her role as a deuteragonist for me, she’s so far been one of the few to have the narrative briefly shift to her perspective to give us significant character moments like these:

The show REALLY wants us to see just how NOT ok she is.

If she’s meant to be the heart of the group, her heart already can’t take much more damage. Her friendship (if you can call it that, it’s so painfully one sided right now) with Pomni clearly means a lot to her, so much so that her entire sense of self worth seems to be tied to it (and if you’ve been paying attention, she doesn’t have a lot of that as it is). It would be nice to see their connection gradually grow before her designated episode, where she might experience actual growth for herself.

And if episode 2 is any indication of how this show preserves friendships well…

Yeah, I don’t think she’s gonna make it.

In fact, I’m willing to bet actual money that she’s either gonna abstract in episode 5 or episode 6.

Which brings us to Jax’s episode! The other deuteragonist…tritagonist? He definitely shares some degree of significant narrative focus along with Pomni and Ragatha. He’s both an active antagonist force and one of the only characters to drive the plot forward every time he’s on screen (then there’s that weird thing where he keeps breaking the fourth wall).

He has so much significance in the story that Gooseworx gave him his own bullet point in her list of content warnings (this could also be a joke, but I mean it would be funny to see just how despicable they can make this character).

Gooseworx also described Jax and Pomni’s relationship in the show as “messy��. After episode 2, I don’t think she considers him as a candidate for any kind friendship like she did for the others, and who could blame her? In just two days the guy abandoned her to deal with an abstraction and chucked her out of a truck. He’s no one’s favorite person, and he relishes that. Bunnyboy definitely has some issues that Pomni would pick up on the more she’s forced to spend time with him. To the point where I can see her trying to eventually form some kind of bridge because, as her previously established character motivation implies, she’s not the kind of person to intentionally leave anyone high and dry. But unlike the rest of the crew, I don’t think Jax would be inclined to change for the better just because someone took pity on him. He seems like the kinda guy to dig his heels in and commit to his bad behavior out of spite.

And for his episode to come after Ragatha’s, why do I get the feeling the reason Gooseworx went so far as to preemptively apologize to bunnydoll shippers specifically is because he’s gonna cause something really really bad to happen to her (could be abstraction, could even be something much worse) that he would come to sorely regret.

And oh boy would that evoke some feelings in everyone!

I feel like if that is indeed the direction this show is going, the rest of the episodes will really be something.

I’m also certain Caine will get his own episode but right now he is very much an antagonist to these characters. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a villain, but he’s certainly not someone Pomni is keen on sympathizing with, at least not currently.

Thanks again @lilyclawthorne for helpfully providing me with the tweet so I can give some context for my ramblings of the week!

#phew finally done with this #I did NOT mean for this to get so long #I should be asleep but decided to do this instead cuz it’s been giving me serious brain rot #I feel like I should start making a specific tag for my unhinged essays #Biscuit Bakes?#Ah whatever it’ll come to me #character analysis #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc pomni #tadc kinger #tadc zooble #tadc gangle #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc caine #tadc headcanon #I have taken WAY to many screenshots of the doll. I am not well #I feel like I could have added some more screenshots about the hints Gooseworx has given for the show but I’m too lazy to go looking

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verosikastrikerstellaexcuser · 3 months

Note

something i find really gross by the writers and fans of the show Helluva Boss is that everyone bemoans and bitches about Stolas being made to marry Stella and have a child with her when SHE WAS IN THE SAME DAMN BOAT. I am pleading with people to remember that women have been valued purely for their ability to bare children FOR CENTURIES, and is still idolized today. I am begging people to see Stella for what she was in a political marriage: a womb. Nothing more. Yet no one gives a fuck, cuz misogynistic writing is so engraved that critical thinking goes flying out the window.

THIS THIS THIS! Like, people calling her his rapist when St*las has said "This marriage was for one purpose, to birth an heir" Which she had to bear the physical brunt of since shes the one who had to lay an egg (equiv of pregnancy). Pregnancy takes a physical toll on the body. Ever since being a child she was expected to be okay with being forced to get pregnant with the child of a man selected for her. Its incredibly fucked up and that plus the fact St*las has all the property rights since shes been booted out and the show has shown us he gets to keep his palace which means he still owns it atm, the marriage literally favors him in multiple ways. Its literally less harmful (still harmful, but less) towards him than her in terms of legality and the fact her side involved forced impregnation as well as forced sex to boot. Its just so fucking gross that the writing does not address any of that at all and given the historical precedence of women being property passed around for arranged marriages. I feel like I'm going nuts at the latest plotline where St*las is a poor baby for being expected to split more in the divorce, I get it wasn't fair and neither of them wanted the marriage in the first place but they're writing Stella as a villain for expecting more than just her clothes and possessions and to also get a home/place she gets to live in and own too. Like, who wrote this? Viv and co. or reddit misogynists who think we should go back to when women got nothing out of divorces?

And I'm so tired of all the people who come out of the woodwork like "But shes mean" "Maybe shes just mean" "Stop overthinking it" "Why are you against female villains?" "Women can be abusers too" They're so dense when it comes to this, I'm sorry but its a stupid response that misses the point. I have never had a problem with female abusers in other shows such as TOH's Odalia and I wouldn't mind at all if Stella was written as an abuser who is lashing out due to being upset at what shes been forced to do. No, the point when it comes to Stella and HB is that, isn't it insidious? WHY out of all the villains is the female victim of an arranged marriage with so little actual power that stands in the way of an m/m ship chosen to be the "Shes just mean because shes a bad person not because bad things happened to her" archetype? And why is she specifically written as stupid and needing her brother to be the actual plotting villain; why does she barely get to drive the plot and her own story? Ever since they added Andrealphus hes stolen her spotlight/point in the story and shes just vehicle for St*las and Andre's beef now. Seriously like THINK PEOPLE. We KNOW that m/m fanfiction and yaoi focused spaces etc tend to use these tropes in which women are jealous men obsessed scumbags for the sake of being plot devices with no real writing, for the sake of creating drama that serves the male characters stories. I'm tired of being told I'm overreacting for recognizing obvious repeating patterns. Like it or not our biases will inform how we think about and therefore write certain groups of people. When you add in that male characters as a whole get so much more fleshed out and focused upon in Helluva Boss, and that its other female characters frequently don't get to express sexuality/sexual desires, and that female HB characters are so often just "X's cool hot looking partner" with little else to them, add in all that and it starts to paint an extremely suspect and ugly picture.

#vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #stolas critical #anti stolas #stolas hate #hb critical #critical stuff #stella goetia

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smoothiedreams · 8 months

Text

So-

I think the radioapple is affecting my mind recently

[Says this after having consumed the content for hours]

I'd like to talk about what drew me to this couple dynamic in the first place.

Because I like all the tension between them, especially after the music that the show brought us, but for me to appreciate this ship I needed to find a common point between the two characters that would unite them.

I think it was the primary difference between them that attracted me to everything. Because yes, they are both in hell, one is a terrible sinner and the other is Satan himself.

But Lucifer is also an Angel, a fallen angel. A supernatural creature that was at the beginning of creation.

And Alastor was once a human. He lived among humans and lived among their customs. Yes, he was a killer. But he also had to disguise himself and hide ( unlike hell where he didn't need to hide his homicidal and cannibalistic tendencies )

So in its essence one was once a majestic being that did not come into direct contact with its creation.

And the other was once a simple, fragile, vulnerable piece of flesh.

But despite all this, Alastor always had the aura of being superior that affected people's lives and Lucifer feels like all other human beings.

I think this difference is where the space for them to create a connection lies. It's Lucifer being interested in human things. It's alastor to be fascinated by Lucifer's angelic nature.

I honestly think that Lucifer didn't have time to see how all humans evolved and the only contact he had with them was the sinners who arrived in hell (as we well know they are the worst of humanity).

So I think it would be cool, he learned a little about humanity through the most inhuman being in his view.

He looks for Alastor's vulnerabilities to tease him but despite everything he is still very much stuck in the image that the radio demon has set for himself of being powerful and cruel, so Lucifer doesn't think he can be anything else.

While Alastor forgets how powerful and divine Lucifer can be, despising the King of Hell because he presented himself as a "pathetic" figure in his view. Harmless and simple.

Lucifer letting his divine nature appear (like an angel for the first time observing a human, curious and confused, but still fascinated) while Alastor allows himself to have his human habits

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #radioapple #apple radio #radio apple #appleradio #alastor x lucifer #lucifer x alastor #alastor is in hell for a reason #but still human

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emmaiscool22 · 6 months

Text

Love Isn't Easy

Eustass Kid x female strawhat!reader

Warnings: angst to a teeny tiny amount of fluff, tipsy reader?, minor cussing, SOFT!KID (that's a warning itself lol), mention of a girl's night

this takes's place after wano (so minor wano spoilers!!!!) purely fictional and noncanon!!!

word count: 2328

I sit on a barrel watching Brook play his violin. Despite the cheerful atmosphere, I couldn’t help but feel the dread in my stomach. I take my eyes off Brook and to the shoreline of the island we stopped at. As soon as we ran into the Kid Pirates, Luffy declared that we were throwing a party despite Kid disagreeing. How he ended up getting Kid to agree, I have no idea.

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

I jump, surprised at the voice. I crane my neck to look behind me, the stress leaving my shoulders when I realize who it is.

“I am not sure if I am being honest, Robin,” I answer.

She nods, sitting next to me. I move my eyes from her to the redhead across the ship, his laugh booming across the lively atmosphere. I move to take another sip of my drink, the burn doing nothing to settle the uneasiness in my belly.

“You should talk to him.”

“He already said what he wanted to,” I sigh, remembering his words on Wano.

Robin looks towards him and back at me, “What about you? Did you say what you wanted?”

Robin glances at Kid, noticing his eyes following me while my attention is focused on Brook. I take a big gulp of my drink, emptying it. I set it down next to me and grab another one, popping off the lid. I don't want to be here, I am in no mood for partying.

“Whatever I do, I can’t get my mind off of Kid. It’s ruining me, Robin,” I let my feelings out for the first time, “I can’t sleep, his words just repeat in my head.”

“I never loved you. I will never love you.”

I stand up, moving forward, stumbling slightly. “I am headed to bed.”

Before Robin can say anything, I head towards the girl’s quarters. In the middle of my journey there, I am stopped by someone voicing my name. I know that voice. I wordlessly shake my head and continue, needing to get off the deck. He says my name again, closer this time. I need to get off this ship, I think. My march to the girl’s quarters changes directions to the beach. The laughter and music fade into the background the farther I get from the ship. I stop when I feel far enough away without losing sight of the ship. I nestle into the sand, hoping to stake a claim here for the rest of the night. My heartbeat slows as the sea breeze and the tide calm me down.

“Why did you leave?”

I stiffen.

“I wanted some fresh air,” I mutter.

He chuckles, “That’s a lie.”

I didn’t say anything else. I want to scream at him, tell him everything that has been consuming me for the months since Wano. But I can’t.

Kid plops down right next to me in the sand. “I might not like him, but Strawhat sure knows how to throw a party,” Kid gulps his drink, throwing the empty bottle in the sand.

I still say nothing.

“So we not talkin’ or somethin’?” He asks, turning his body towards me.

I try to find the courage to say something, anything, but alas, nothing comes to mind.

He stares at me trying to catch my eyes that are firmly set on the rolling tide. After a couple of minutes, he speaks again

“You know,” he starts, “Heat and Wire miss your presence on the ship. Said that something is missing… I don’t know. I told them we knew you were only stayin' for 2 years but they got attached to you.”

I couldn’t help but scoff and mumble, “All I did on your ship was complain about you and missing my friends.”

“She speaks!” He shouts and laughs.

I stare at him. I forgot how his smile covered his whole face, or how he would whip his arms around when he got excited. The muscles flex as his flesh arm waves around in the air. No. I can’t think about him, not like this. Not when he broke my heart. I move to stand up and wipe the sand off my legs. My feet taking me towards the ship once more. I didn’t want to be alone with him. Suddenly a hand grabs mine, pulling me back.

“Leaving me so soon?”

I shiver at his words. I can feel tears beginning to slide down my face. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. Kid pulls at my hand once more to get me to turn around. He says something, but all I can hear is my heart trying to tear itself out of my chest. Suddenly, someone starts calling my name from the ship, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“I have to go back,” I whisper, tugging my hand harshly out of his grip.

I sway towards the calling voice, the alcohol still moving about my system. I can see Sanji leaning over the edge of the ship, looking down at the shoreline for me. A couple heads peek next to him, Robin, Chopper, and Luffy. I remember Robin's words from before:

“What about you? Did you say what you wanted?”

I do have things I want to say. I spin around, catching Kid off guard. He looks at me with surprise at my sudden actions. “What are you doing?” he demands.

“I don’t want to love you anymore.” I blurt out.

His eyes widen.

“I don’t want to love you, but for some reason I do, even though you hurt me. I fell in love with you during the two years I was on your ship, and I felt like you loved me. We spent every day training together, and hanging out, and I felt like we got close. I wish I was the one you thought about before you went to bed, or the one you wanted to spend your days with. But in Wano you told me the opposite after I confessed my love for you... Why won’t you love me back?”

It takes him a moment to speak, “let’s get you back,” he grumbles, “you’re drunk Y/N.”

At his words, I cry harder and drop to my knees, his flesh hand grabs my shoulder, “Don’t touch me!” I sob. He tries to say something but his mouth just opens and closes. His metal hand comes to my other shoulder to hoist me up, but my words have him stumbling back.

“Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!”

My hand grabs at the sand and chucks it towards him. My sobs ring out into the open air along with the faint sound of music and laughter.

“I would listen to Y/N, Eustass,” a voice commands.

My eyes stay on the sand, while Kid’s head snaps towards the voice. A gentle hand rests on the shoulder in the place of Kid’s. A soft voice whispers, “You are okay Y/N, we are here for you.”

The hand begins to gently stroke my hair. I look up and lock eyes with Nami.

“Can you stand up?” She asks.

I nod my head slowly, planting my hands on the ground to push my body up. She wraps an arm around me and leads me towards the ship.

“Y/N-” Kid starts but is cut off by Robin.

“You hurt her enough, don’t make it worse.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -- - - - - - - - - -

“He’s an idiot, Y/N,” Nami states while she brushes my hair.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night,” I sigh, “I could see you and Killer getting along.”

Nami laughs, “Oh Y/N, he couldn’t handle me.”

We both laugh, warmth coming to my chest as I smile. The silence that follows is comfortable, basking in each other's presence. A soft knock comes from the door, the door squeaking open, revealing Robin, smiling slightly. After a few moments of chit-chatting, Nami stands up.

“Let’s have a girl’s night,” Nami shouts, “I will ask Sanji to make us some snacks! We can do our nails and have a good time together!”

I smile and nod, and Robin voices her agreement. Nami skips out of the room to find Sanji while Robin and I get out all of the nail polish. Once we settle onto the floor, I take a moment to look at her and gather up the courage to ask her the question I have been dying to know the answer to since the beach. Reading my mind, she states, “He didn’t hurt me,” she smiles, “After you walked away, he asked me to grab Killer and that was it.”

I nod slowly as Nami bursts back into the room along with Sanji, who is holding out drinks and our favorite snacks. “Y/N-swannnnnn, Robin-swannn!” He guides the tray to us, “Here you are, my lovely ladies!”

He hands us our drinks and snacks, and leaves the room, letting us know that he can make us anything else we want. For the next couple of hours, we pamper ourselves, doing our nails, and hair, and talking about our most recent adventures.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - -- - -- - - -- - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - --

I toss and turn in bed, shoving the blankets off my legs. Laying there for a few moments, I cover back up, uncomfortably cold. Groaning, I decide to get up and make some tea, hoping it will help me sleep. I slip my sandals on, glancing at Nami and Robin to make sure I haven’t woken them. I slip out into the hallway, no one in sight. The Kid Pirates must have gone back to their ship at some point, I think. I make my way to the kitchen only to be stopped by the sight of a shadow by the head of the Sunny, “Luffy?” I whisper confused about why he was out here this late, moving my way toward the dark figure.

“Sorry sweet cheeks,” Kid mutters, “I am not Strawhat.”

I take a step back, startled by his presence, “K-kid, what are you doing here?”

“I was thinking about you if I am being honest.”

I take another step back, the idea of tea lost in my mind, just hoping to escape to the solace of my bedroom.

“I am sorry for what happened on the beach,” Kid apologizes.

This stops me from moving. Kid apologizing?

I find my voice, “Killer tell you to say that?”

“No,” Kid snarls, “I wanted to fucking apologize myself.”

I take a deep breath and I dare myself to be bold, “What are you doing here?”

“I was practicing…” he trails off.

“Practicing?”

“I need to practice without Killer shoving words down my throat.”

“I don’t understand.”

He doesn’t respond and just looks at me. I suddenly feel self-conscious at his scrutinizing. We stand in the darkness for a few minutes, before he breaks the silence.

“You asked me why I didn’t love you back earlier.” He pauses before he continutes, “Umm, Killer told me I needed to sort out my thoughts and feelings before I talked to you again. But I hate the idea of not talking to you. When you confessed to me after I ran into you after escaping Udon, I was surprised. I couldn’t believe it. Why would you love me? I said the things I did to hurt you, I can’t have you loving me. I am incredibly selfish. As soon as you said it, I wanted to take you away. I wanted- I want you all to myself. But I hurt you instead of telling you the truth.”

Kid takes a deep breath, and grabs my hand.

“The truth is, I realized that I have developed strong feelings for you. It started as a simple admiration, but over time, it has grown into something deeper. The way you make me laugh, the way you care for others, the way you fight, and the way you light up a room with your presence... it all captivates me. When you found me after Kuma separated your crew, I knew I was fucked. The look on your face when you asked if you could stay on the Victoria, I couldn’t say no. I knew I loved you the minute you told Heat off for stealing food from your plate one night at dinner. I am selfish for telling you this all now but -”

I cut him off, “You love me?”

He nods, “Yes.”

“And you’re not just saying it to say it 'cause it's what I want to hear?”

“I love you Y/N.”

“It would have saved me a whole lot of tears and heartache if you just told me.”

Kid nods again, “I know.”

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

I take a bold step forward towards him and wrap my arms around him. His arms slowly wrap around my body, his warmth seeping into me.

“It’s going to take me a while to forgive you, but thank you for telling me how you feel.”

“I understand,” Kid says, “but can I ask you something?”

I pull back from his embrace, enough to see his face staring down at me, “what is it?”

“Can I kiss you?”

My heart hammers in shock. But slowly, I nod my head, not trusting my words. His flesh hand moves to cup my cheek while his metal one lays across the small of my back. He leans in halfway, his eyes searching mine for any sign of wariness. When he finds none, he closes the gap, his lips hovering over mine. I can feel the warmth of his breath and the slight tickle of his lips ghosting mine. I push my toes into the ground, leaning up to press my lips against his. His chapped lips move in sync with mine, but before either one of us can deepen the kiss, Kid pulls away, his forehead against mine. “I am sorry again for how I acted, I am going to try and make it up to you before our crew departs.” Kid mumbles.

I don’t say anything, just take him in. I couldn’t forgive him just yet but I knew that I would love him forever.

#one piece #eustass kid #eustass x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #kid pirates #straw hat pirates #straw hat crew #one piece kid #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass captain kidd

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novasintheroom · 1 month

Text

003. Important

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.5k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: Vash wants to call you something other than 'mayfly.'

A small fleshing-out of the blurb I posted a few days ago <3

Now part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

The first time Vash calls you ��baby,’ it’s too soft to hear.

He does it when you aren’t looking, too distracted by the notebook in your lap. You’re looking beautiful in the morning sunlight, and, he doesn’t know, it just hits him to call you it.

It’s a whisper. A hint of a word. It rolls in his mouth like a marble, smooth and warm. He’s afraid to spit it out. Instead, his lips meet twice, a formation of what he wants to say: Baby.

You don’t see it. Definitely don’t hear it. He clears his throat and goes on to ask what he meant to: “Do you want jerky or a granola bar for breakfast?" To that, you respond with a hum and an answer, missing the way he grimaces at his own cowardice.

The second time, he’s louder.

He’s leading you through a crowd, and you’re – not yapping, but definitely talking a lot more than usual. You’re excited about the piece of lost history tech you and he found in a nearby derelict ship from the Fall, and you’re going on and on about how it might hold this or that or the other in its small chips. He loves it, loves when you get excited enough to talk this much. But he needs to ask you something, and you aren’t giving him the room to ask.

“And just think, if we found some of the literature that was lost from Ship 591, we could piece together the – “

“Baby,” he says, just as a tomas cart pulls by and the bird squawks, “put the breaks on for a sec, I need to ask you something.”

You stop abruptly, and Vash is pulled to his own stop. His heart is in his throat, worried you wouldn’t like it, that it was too mushy to be called such a thing.

“What did you call me?” The grin on your face is telling, but still, he waits. “Did you call me ‘baby?’”

A squeaky ‘yes?’ comes out, and he knows his ears are red.

Humming, you sidle up to him and pull on this arm, holding his hand close. “Not ‘mayfly?’ ‘Baby?’”

He pouts. You’re making fun of him. “What’s wrong with it?”

You shake your head. “Nothing! I just wasn’t expecting it.” You play with his hand, and it’s the first time he notices your shaky smile, the way you shyly look him up and down. “The sheriff’s office should have some postings of jobs we can do this time of day. Let’s go...baby.”

A thrill goes up and down his spine. He can’t hide the huge grin now on his face, and you pull him along through the crowd to hide from it. “Hey, I didn’t get to ask my question!” He calls out.

All he hears is your nervous peal of laughter, and his own follows. It wasn’t an important question, anyway.

#i hope no one minds reading the beginning again. i just wanted to flesh this out a little and post it to other sites #trigun x reader #trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #vash #writing #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #reader insert #nova writes #tristamp #150 bullets #vash fluff #fluff #sfw

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shewhohangsoutincemeteries · 2 years

Text

you look good in leather

Peter Quill x F!Reader

Prompt: “I’m sorry, but it’s very hard to focus when you’re dressed like that.”

Summary: on the way to xandar to face off with ronan the accuser, quill walks in on you changing into a ravager uniform and just has to show you how much he approves of the look.

Warnings: smut, hints of exhibitionism, vaginal sex.

Word Count: 1,613

Got a Request? Prompt List: here

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Propping your foot up on the crate in front of you, you fastened your boot closed before straightening. Exhaling a nervous breath, you reached up to run your fingers through your hair, you pulled it back to tie it away from your face. You heard the metal floors creak behind you, and you spoke without turning around. “Do I even want to know why the Ravagers had a uniform in my size? I’m not seeing a big female population on board.”

“You and Gamora would be the first on this ship,” Quill replied. You turned to face him, smoothing your hands down over the leather encasing your hips. “And you look a hell of a lot better in it than Kraglin does.”

“High praise,” you said, tugging on your hair to tighten the band holding it in place. “Actually, come to think of it, why the hell do you have a uniform here to fit Rocket? Dude’s a raccoon, for flark’s sake.”

Peter didn’t reply, his head tilted slightly to the side. You noticed his gaze fall lower, travelling slowly, pointedly over your curves. You rolled your eyes despite the immediate bloom of warmth you felt spread through you.

Raising a hand, you clicked your fingers in front of his face. “Hello? You in there, Space Cadet?”

Quill blinked, dragging his gaze back up to meet yours. A teasing, flirtatious smirk curled his lips. “I’m sorry. But it’s very hard to focus when you’re dressed like that.”

“Seriously?” you asked disbelievingly, glancing down at yourself. It was more form fitting that your usual t-shirt and jeans ensemble, but you hadn’t really thought anything of it. “Yondu just threatened to kill you and we’re about to go up against an interplanetary warlord, and you’re still thinking about sex?”

Quill shrugged, a self-deprecating smirk blooming on his lips. He closed the distance between the two of you slowly, taking ahold of your hips. “Guess I’ve got a one-track mind.”

You rolled your eyes at him, your own smile breaking over your features despite yourself as his hands slipped around to smooth over your backside. He pulled you closer, your hips bumping against his. Your hands moved automatically upward, and you rested them lightly on his shoulders. “Peter. Bigger issues.”

“We got time,” he replied, pressing his hips into yours teasingly. You could feel him harden against your thigh, and his hands squeezed your ass possessively. “Might as well use it creatively.”

“Funny how all your ‘creativity’ seems to result in nudity on my part,” you said snidely, sliding your hands up to wrap your arms around his neck loosely. “You might need to find a new schtick.”

“I thought you liked my ‘schtick’.”

“Ugh, Quill!” you scoffed at the lazily double entendre, shoving him away from you. Peter laughed, catching you around the waist and pulling you back against him. Your back met his chest, and your breath caught as you felt him press a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your throat. A taunting mix of tongue and the blunt graze of his teeth against your skin, it made a shiver roll up the small of your back, as did the way his hand travelled up your stomach to squeeze your breast through the supple leather of your outfit. “Peter…”

“Shhh…” he whispered; his breath hot against your flesh. His hand moved slowly, teasingly, sliding the zipper at the front of your suit down and slipping into your bra to clutch at your breast. “You’re gonna spoil the mood.”

“Asshole,” you bit back a moan as he pinched your nipple, turning your head to capture his mouth in a kiss. Quill returned it hungrily, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You moaned into it despite your indignation as his other hand moved lower, cupping your cunt roughly through your clothes. The inelegance, the demand in his touch thrilled you despite your objections, and you felt heat rise in your chest as he led your hips back to grind against him. Quill groaned into the kiss as you bit his lip, his grip tightening on your breast for a moment.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re still an asshole,” you retorted, and he snickered as you turned in his arms to face him again. Quill recaptured your lips, his hands taking hold of your waist. His mouth moved along your cheek to your jaw and down to the side of your throat, sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin over your pulse point.

He lingered there until your breath caught, then trailed his lips higher, catching them teasingly on your earlobe before speaking in your ear. You felt yourself shudder as his hand walked slowly up your torso to your zipper. Quill tugged it down at a glacial pace, his voice warm and gruff. “So, let me make it up to you then.”

Your hesitation lingered only until you felt his hand slide into your suit and over your stomach to curve against your ribs. “Fuck it. You have ten minutes.”

Quill laughed, unzipping your suit the rest of the way and shoving the sleeves of it down your arms. You echoed him, the sound catching in your throat as he shot you a cocky wink, turned you around, and bent you over the crates behind you. He smoothed a hand up the back of your thigh, and you shrugged off the sleeves of your suit. He tugged the whole thing down around your thighs as soon as your arms were free, heedless of the awkward way the leather hung around your legs.

Your chest met the storage crates as he bent you over further, his hand sliding between your legs. You moaned, and he pushed your underwear to the side.

“You know what one of the hottest things about you is?” he muttered, teasing his fingers along your cunt to circle your clit. You whined through gritted teeth, eyes closed. The heard the dull sound of his zipper being lowered. “The more you pretend to you’re not into it, the wetter you are.”

“God, you’re a dick—” you broke off with a drawn-out moan as Quill pressed his cock into you, his hand clutching at the swell of your ass as he filled you. “Fuck, Peter…”

His hand tightened painfully on your flesh as he withdrew and thrust into you again, hard enough to make the crates beneath you shake. You grunted as he did, bracing yourself on your elbows and shoving loose hair out of your eyes where it had come loose.

Quill didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate… apparently taking your time frame to heart. He fucked you hard, his fingers bruising your hips as he pulled them back to meet his thrusts. Your breath left you in a short, sharp moan each time he thrust into you, and he teased his hand over the side of your ass in approval, massaging the flesh of it.

His hand moved higher, a shiver following it up your back. You grinned, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he wrapped your hair around his hand and jerked your head back. It forced your back to arch, and he pushed deeper into you. You moaned, eyes rolling back. When you reached back to grab at his hip, he took hold of your arms, pulling them back behind you. Your chest met the crate inelegantly, your cheek pressed against it, as he trapped your wrists against the small of your back.

“Ass—hole—”

“You’re so hot when you talk dirty, baby.” he laughed, his voice tight with arousal.

“Go fuck yourself, Quill.”

“Right after I’m finished with you,” he replied easily. “God, you’re mean to me.”

“You… you love it.”

“I do,” Quill said with a groan. He released your wrists, hands returning to your hips. He guided you into pushing back into him, and you braced yourself on your hands, fingers tightening painfully on the edge of the crate. “Do it more.”

You choked on a laugh, arms shaking as Quill’s hand snaked around between your legs and found your clit. “You’re running out of time, Star Lord.” your voice broke in a whimper as he circled it roughly, pinching it between his fingers. “Tick-tock.”

“Oh, now you’re asking for it,” he almost growled the words, and you jerked under his touch as his other hand pressed against the small of your back, pinning you in place against the crate. Unable to move your hips aways from his fingers, from his cock, you felt the stimulation all of a sudden too much, and you cursed as you came, drawing out his name in an almost pornographic moan.

Quill’s thrusts had become almost desperate at the sound of his self-imposed moniker, and he groaned as you tightened around him, pulling out of you just before his own orgasm hit. You could feel yourself twitch as he smoothed a hand up your thigh, and you exhaled as you straightened cleaning yourself up before pulling your suit back up and shrugging it up onto your arms.

You turned to face Quill as he tucked himself back into his pants, and your eyes widened. You smacked him hard in the chest. “You left the door open?!”

“Ow!” he flinched away from you childishly, and you smacked him again.

“Private moments, Peter! Private.”

“I didn’t want to waste any of time!” he argued defensively, but you saw the corner of his lips twitch upward in a smirk.

“You suck, Peter.”

“Maybe later,” he joked back. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got a lot going on right now. Honestly, your priorities—”

“I will hit you again.”

“Noted.”

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crimxonwrites · 2 months

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Blood-painted kisses | Aemond Targaryen x female!OC | Chapter 5 ❝Happy name day❞

☽➛ Summary: Nothing satietes Maehrys Velaryon's hunger as well as revenge. Growing up at the Red Keep as the bastard of Rhaenyra Targaryen did not come trouble-free. Her childhood consisted of bitter words and repulsive looks from nearly everybody in the castle. As she grew older, Maehrys grew meaner. Once the Velaryons return to King's Landing to defend Luke's claim as Lord of Driftmark, Maehrys decides that it is time for the people who hurt her in the past to pay.

☽➛ Warnings: swearing, bullying, mentions of blood, overall 18+!!!!

☽➛ Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x female!OC ( enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again?? romance is a subplot)

TW: vomit, mentions of suicide, AEMOND !!DISCLAIMER: English is not my first language! feel free to correct me at any time!

A/N: Two dragonless sisters, sitting on a ship

Masterlist

Chapter 6

I run as fast as I can. I picked up my book and made a run to my chambers, the wine’s effect wearing off. Alisha was there waiting for me, but I dismissed her quickly. I need to be alone.

My heart was still beating as fast as it did when I intertwined my lips with my uncle’s, and I sit in front of my vanity mirror. My hair is loose and scruffy, a few curls stuck to my temple. My eyes have heavy bags under them, and my palms are bruised. My gaze lingers on my lips; they are swollen and bloody. Why did he kiss me? The question echoes in my mind, a haunting refrain. The intimacy of the moment feels wrong on so many levels, the boundaries of family and pride shattered in an instant. Why didn’t I stop him? My passivity feels like complicity, my inaction a betrayal of myself. Why did I like it? This question is the hardest to face, the one that fills me with the deepest sense of self-revulsion. The pleasure I felt, however fleeting, twists like a knife in my gut.

Why did I like it?

My stomach turns in pain and disgust, and I get up as fast as I can and walk over to my chamber pot. With one hand, I hold my hair and with the other, I hold my stomach as I spew all the wine and grapes that I had today. One moment, Aemond was telling me to make haste and find a husband before Alicent sends word for Rhaenyra to wed us, and in the next moment, he was kissing my lips with hunger. I throw up once more, the force of it making my knees buckle. Tears fall unchecked down my cheeks, hot and relentless. Each retch feels like a purging of the confusion and guilt that weigh so heavily on me. The room spins, my vision blurring with tears and the remnants of nausea. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, the taste of bile lingering.

When I am sure the contents of my stomach are all gone, I maniacally undress and get into the bath that Alisha prepared for me. I grab the sponge with a trembling hand, my grip tight and desperate. I plunge it into the water, soaking it thoroughly, and then I press it against my skin. I rub with a ferocity that borders on madness, scrubbing at my flesh as if I can erase the memory of what happened. But I cannot. We kissed. And I liked it. The sponge moves in harsh circles, my skin turning red under the relentless friction. I scrub until it hurts, but the physical pain is a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside me.

My breath hitches as I continue, tears mingling with the bathwater. The harder I scrub, the more I feel the sting of my actions, but I can't stop. The need to be clean, to be free of the lingering ghost of Aemond's touch, consumes me. The water turns murky with each pass of the sponge, but no amount of scrubbing can reach the stain that I feel inside.

Still nauseous, I manage to scrub myself clean. When I am done bathing, I decide that the vomit aftertaste is too much, so I chug a lot of water. My throat is burning, and my mind is still foggy. I cannot allow myself to think about that moment any longer, and I cannot allow myself to let it happen again.

When my mind finally quiets down, I fall asleep, body aching and spirit wounded.

“Happy name day, Maehrys!” Rhaena’s voice startles me.

We left King’s Landing a few hours ago, and it will not be long before we reach Dragonstone. Corlys insisted he send the biggest ship he has, even though Daemon and Jace took off on dragon back. My head aches like never before as I watch the ship cut through the dark blue sea.

“Why did I think the salty air would help with my aching head?” I ask Rhaena, and she frowns.

“Someone had too much to drink last night.” She teases, a smile forming on her face. “You had a merry night, I assume?” She asks.

“Yes.” I lie. “Though I cannot wait to return to Dragonstone.” I say, leaning over the hard wood of the ship. Above us, I hear Syrax’s and Vermax’s screeches.

“How are the eggs?” She asks, and I turn my gaze towards her.

When Aemond was ten and two, he stole Rhaena’s rightful dragon, leaving her dragonless to this day. The act was a bold and unforgivable affront, a theft that cast a long shadow over her, robbing her not just of a dragon but of a birthright. Vhagar was Laena’s dragon before she died, and since Baela claimed Moondancer, it was only fair that Rhaena claims Vhagar. From time to time, she would ask me about my unhatched dragon eggs, her voice a mixture of curiosity and something deeper, something more poignant. Each time, I am not sure if she wants to comfort me, or if she needs comfort herself.

“Still unhatched.” I answer, with a sigh. I can sense her inner turmoil, the way she clings to the hope that my dragon eggs might hatch, as if their success could somehow mend the wound left by Aemond’s betrayal.

“When we arrive to Dragonstone, I will try to claim Seasmoke.” Rhaena states.

Seasmoke has been riderless ever since Laenor, my father, died. Some nights, when the world is quiet and the darkness settles over the castle like a shroud, I hear Seasmoke’s growl echoing through the night air. It is a low, mournful sound, filled with a sorrow that mirrors my own. In his voice, I sense his solitude, a powerful creature left bereft and alone.

“I wish you luck, sister.” I give her a reassuring smile, and she places her head on my shoulder.

We watch the horizon as the ship drifts towards Dragonstone, the world around us growing still and silent. Two dragonless Targaryens, bound by blood and loss—what a tragedy.

I spend the next few days trying to keep myself busy, to stave off the heavy thoughts plaguing my mind. I dive into studying High Valyrian, spending hours learning the language and its complicated rules. The focus it requires helps distract me from my worries. Moreover, I need to perfect my High Valyrian. I am doing this for myself, yes, but I am also doing it for the little girl I used to be, who dreamed of claiming the biggest dragon in the world.

I also train with my brothers, pushing myself hard in our practice sessions. Maybe pushing Jace a bit harder. I convince Daemon to train with us, and he surprisingly agreed. I study his technique and note how it is much more violent that Ser Criston’s. Daemon acts on impulse, on feeling, and he spares no strength when it comes to defeating us in combat. At the end of the day, I cannot go to sleep without a hot bath to soothe my aching muscles. The physical activity gives me a break from my thoughts and helps me feel stronger, as if I can control something in my life.

I make time to be with my pregnant mother, offering her support and company. We sometimes talk about my grandmother, Aemma, and how she died in childbirth, and I grow tired of seeing pain in my mother’s eyes. Our time together is soothing, and her presence reminds me of what’s important amidst all the confusion.

Despite all this, my mind often drifts back to Aemond and the kiss we shared. I think about his words and the urgency to find a husband quickly to avoid being married to him. This pressure weighs heavily on me.

I also comfort Rhaena, who failed to claim Seasmoke by changing the bandages on her shoulder. The dragon did a number, not only on her body, but on her soul as well.

In search of advice, I talk to Baela about what it’s like to be betrothed to a half-brother. I hope she can share her personal feelings and experiences. However, she mainly discusses the political aspects of such a marriage, focusing on alliances and strategic benefits. Her talk about politics only makes me feel more alone, leaving me with more questions and uncertainties about my own situation.

“Maehrys?” On a Sunday afternoon, I hear my mother’s voice echo in the library, cutting through the silence like a knife through butter. The smell of old parchment and ink fills the room, a familiar comfort.

“Yes, mother?” I close the High Valyrian book and dismiss the tutor who was helping me. His bow is deep, respectful, before he quietly exits the room, leaving us alone.

“I cannot help but notice how distracted you have been lately.” She sits at the table in front of me, her eyes searching mine. “Is something troubling you?” she asks, her voice softening as she holds my hand in hers.

I absolutely cannot tell her that what has been troubling me is Aemond, and the fact that we shared a kiss. A kiss that haunts me to this day, consuming my thoughts and dreams. “No…” I say, half-heartedly, my voice betraying me. She gives me the same comforting look she has given me all my childhood, a look filled with love and concern.

“Maehrys, my sweet child, I know you too well. There is a shadow upon your heart. Speak truthfully to me.” Her grip on my hand tightens slightly, urging me to open up.

“Yes,” I confess, my voice barely a whisper. “Will you marry me off to some lord soon?” My question catches her off guard, and she seems taken aback by my curiosity.

“Perhaps,” she answers after a pause, and my heart drops to my stomach. “But do not worry, there is no rush for betrothal now.” Rhaenyra continues, her thumb gently rubbing the scar on my left wrist, a scar from my sinister childhood that binds us even closer. A youth where I did not want to live any longer. “Why so curious about marriage all of a sudden?”

I cannot tell her that Alicent is planning to suggest I marry Aemond. The very thought makes my heart race with a mix of fear and longing. I point at her big belly; “I do not wish to bear children,” I tell her, the words coming out steadier than I feel. It is not considered lying if I do not tell the whole truth. “But if it is ever needed, I want you to know that I will not be against it.” I continue, my voice steady. “I promise.”

She sighs, a deep, weary sound. “The burden of women in our world is a heavy one, Maehrys. But know that you are not alone. Whatever the future holds, we will face it together.”

I nod, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on me. As she rises to leave, I feel a mix of relief and dread. The path ahead is uncertain, and the shadows of the past cling to me like a cloak.

“Rest now,” she says gently. “And remember, my dear, that you are loved beyond measure.”

As she exits the library, I am left with my thoughts, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the walls. The memory of Aemond’s kiss lingers, a forbidden secret that binds me to a future I cannot yet see.

The very next day, I am awakened by the sound of alarmed voices between servants, handmaidens, and guards echoing through the stone corridors. The usually serene morning air is thick with tension and unease. I dress swiftly, with Alisha’s expert hands guiding me into my gown, her fingers trembling slightly as she fastens the intricate clasps.

“What is happening?” I ask, but Alisha only shakes her head, worry etched across her face.

I make my way to the council room, my heart pounding. The castle halls, usually bustling with activity, seem darker and more foreboding today. As I pass through the grand corridors, I catch sight of Meleys, Rhaenys’ dragon, flying in frantic circles above the palace, her growls echoing with a desperate urgency. The sight sends a shiver down my spine.

I reach the massive doors of the council room and push them open, stepping inside to hear Rhaenys’ voice ringing out. “-and the Queen Regent insists your father changed his mind on his deathbed.”

“What is happening?” I whisper to Jace, who stands nearby, his face pale and anxious.

“They crowned Aegon this morning,” my brother answers quickly, his voice trembling. The weight of his words sinks into me like a stone.

Luke joins us shortly, followed by Rhaena and Baela, their expressions mirroring the same shock and disbelief that I feel. My heart starts quickening its pace as I listen to Rhaenys’ words. How could they? My mother is the rightful heir to the crown. Aegon is just a drunk usurper.

Rhaenys continues, her voice steady but laced with anger. “The Queen Regent claims that King Viserys, in his final moments, wished for Aegon to take the throne. It is a blatant lie, a fabrication to seize power.”

My mother stands at the head of the table, her face a mask of controlled fury. “This cannot stand. We have the support of many houses. They will not accept Aegon as king,” she declares, her voice resolute.

“But what can we do?” Luke asks, his voice small and frightened. “They have already crowned him. The people... they might believe their lies.” He grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flash with determination. “We must rally our allies, make our position known. We will not be silent. We will not let them steal what is rightfully ours.”

As the council debates, plans forming and falling apart in rapid succession, I feel a surge of resolve. This is not just about a throne. It is about our family, our honour, and the future of the realm. Aegon may have a crown, but he will never have the loyalty of the true Targaryen blood. He does not have my mother’s expertise

Suddenly, I hear my mother groan in pain, and I know exactly what is happening; the labours of pregnancy. But it cannot be—it is too early. Fear grips my heart as I realize the potential danger she and the unborn child are in.

As Rhaenyra is carried away by her handmaidens, her face contorted in agony, I desperately want to follow, to be by her side, to offer comfort. But my mother dismisses me swiftly with a firm wave of her hand, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and determination. “Stay here,” she commands through gritted teeth, and I know better than to argue.

Defeated and filled with worry, I sit next to Rhaenys, who watches the scene with a solemn expression. Her presence is both a comfort and a reminder of the gravity of our situation.

“How did you manage to escape?” I ask, needing a distraction from the anguish I feel.

“I have a dragon,” Rhaenys says quickly, and her words cut like a dagger. The simplicity and power of her statement highlight the stark difference between us. Her eyes soften when she notices my hurt expression. “A war is about to begin,” she continues, and I nod, feeling the weight of the impending conflict settle over me.

“What stopped you from raining dragon fire upon them?” I ask, thinking about what I would do if I had a dragon at my command. The thought of vengeance, of justice delivered through fire and blood, is a tantalizing one.

Rhaenys sighs, her gaze distant as if seeing a past filled with similar choices. “I do not wish to start the war, Princess,” she answers. “Fire and blood bring destruction, not only to our enemies but to our own as well. There is a time for dragons, and there is a time for restraint.”

Her words linger in the air, a sobering reminder of the responsibilities that come with power. As I sit there, the sounds of my mother’s labours and Syrax’s growls echoing faintly through the walls, I realize that our path is fraught with difficult choices. The dragons we command are both our greatest strength and our greatest burden.

“I wish my eggs hatched.” I sigh, desperation lingering in my voice.

Rhaenys’ gaze meets mine, and I see a flicker of understanding. “You will have your time, Maehrys. But for now, we must be patient, even as the storm gathers around us.”

In that moment, I feel utterly powerless. The chaos around me, the fear in my mother’s eyes, and the weight of impending war all crash down upon me like a relentless storm. I do not know what to do, and I do not know how I can be of aid to my mother. I cannot comfort her through the agonizing labours of early childbirth, I cannot fly to King’s Landing and kill Aegon, I cannot do anything that would make a difference. My helplessness claws at me, a cruel reminder of my limitations.

Suddenly, I am eight years of age again, scared and anxious, lost in a world of uncertainty. I remember the nights I would wake from nightmares, seeking my mother’s embrace, her soothing words the only balm to my fears. Now, the roles are reversed, and I am the one who should be offering comfort and strength, but I feel just as frightened as I did then.

Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back, unwilling to show weakness in front of Rhaenys or anyone else. The hall feels colder, the shadows longer and more oppressive. Each second that ticks by feels like an eternity, and the sound of my mother’s pained cries echoes hauntingly in my ears.

Rhaenys must sense my turmoil, for she places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You are stronger than you know, Maehrys. Your presence alone is a comfort to your mother, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

I nod mechanically, but her words do little to alleviate the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. I watch as the handmaidens hurry back and forth, their faces masks of grim determination. Every fiber of my being screams to do something, anything, but I remain rooted to the spot, paralyzed by my own inadequacy.

The memory of Aemond’s kiss flashes in my mind, a stark contrast to the present reality. The confusion of my feelings for him mingles with my anger and fear, creating a turbulent storm within me. How can I navigate these emotions when the world around me is falling apart? My breathing becomes manic, and I choke on the thick air.

“Breathe, Maehrys,” Rhaenys whispers, her voice cutting through the fog of my thoughts. “We will get through this. Your mother is strong, and so are you. The Targaryen blood runs hot and true in your veins.”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it feels as if there is not enough air in the world. My chest tightens, and each breath becomes a struggle, as though an invisible force is squeezing the life out of me. My vision blurs, the edges of my sight darkening and narrowing as if I am peering through a tunnel. The sounds around me become distorted, and my mother’s cries are muffled by a high-pitched ringing that fills my ears, drowning out everything else.