#how was the trip to other ship land???

[ssreeder]

hello it is i

back from the depths of 😗

life update: my literal skin is melting off, i no longer enjoy pub subs, and i hate school

i’ve obviously been reading the fic and my thoughts are not thoughtting right now so that discussion will be going on the back burner 😌

YOURE BACKKKKKK

& you’ve been reading the fic?! Damn it this is great! I hope the depths treated you well!

[aemondapologistfrfr]

How to Become No One

aegon x witch!fem!reader 

Summary: The Dowager Queen calls upon you to try and heal her son. You never expected to find such a bond with another’s magic. This story of healings takes them across two continents and through many trials. 

Warnings: 18+ hurt comfort fr, swearing, mentions of injury not too detailed but kind of, blood, pain, medicine, hurt sunfyre but he gets healed fr, threats, mentions of murder, murder, different kind of magic system, a healing journey fr, faceless men moment, house of the undying, oral(f receiving), p in v after he’s healed bffr

Authors Note: my friend begged me to write this but i clearly didn’t need that much persuading 🫣, i had no idea where i was going with this although it’s giving tower of dawn vibes iykyk, i’ve skewed a lot of things to fit my narrative, not sorry x

Word Count: 6.8k idek what to say!!

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My days in this dark city never seem to have an end or a beginning. I wait at a booth in the back of a tavern waiting for paying customers. Usually they come and ask me to place blood curses or cause immeasurable pain. The man before me is begging for something that’s never been asked of me before which has piqued my curiosity.

“The Dowager Queen is seeking your talents and discretion.” A man with a thick westerosi accent pleads to me. 

“She is no Queen to me.” I look over him. 

“Surely the payment she’s offering can sway you?” he pulls out a well filled sack. “This is just for the trip there. There is more waiting for you in Kings Landing.” the money he’s speaking of could allow me to leave these lands for good. 

“What is the extent of his injury?” I lean back and look at him contemplatively. 

“He has sustained burns to half of his body. He fell a great distance off his dragon. He has regained consciousness, but remains in great pain. The Grand Maester believes there are injuries within that are out of his expertise.” his voice wavers as he pushes the gold to me. 

I sit back and wonder how the Dowager Queen of Westeros heard of me all the way in Asshai. Sending one of her men to this city to seek me out is madness and I can appreciate her desperation. I could probably get them to pay me even more than they’re planning. It’s been some time since I’ve used my powers to help someone. I grab the bag of coins and the man looks to me hopeful. 

“I will come with and do what I can.” I nod to him. 

“Pack your bags and we will leave at once. I have a ship at the ready in the harbor.” he rises quickly. 

“I have nothing of value worth bringing. We can leave now.” I rise with him as he furrows a brow to me. 

“No one to say goodbye to?” he asks overstepping. 

“Lead the way to your ship.” I nod my head at him hoping he gets the hint. 

We shuffle through the city quickly avoiding the dark streets and ominous folk. As we approach the dock I can see the ridiculously large boat this man no doubt came on. I shake my head to myself as I board and the men begin preparing for us to leave. I look back at the city finally ready to leave it behind me. 

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The week on the boat was less than desirable, but I was finally able to find sleep. I was able to try and prepare a plan to help the fallen King. I couldn’t make too many decisions until I’m able to assess him myself in person. As we dock my blood thrums at the magic that is flowing out of this city. It slips around the streets and seems to pour from the other end of the city in form of living animals. Dragons. I didn’t think they would have them so close to their home and within the city walls. 

Once we’re docked I’m whisked into a carriage and brought directly to the castle. The man escorts me directly in and up the stairs. We stop in front of a large set of double doors which he knocks on quickly. 

“You’re back. Did she come?” a woman looks past the man I’ve been traveling with. “Thank the Gods.” 

“I choose to come here. Not the Gods.” I brush past her into the room where I can feel the pain and hear the groans. 

My eyes widen as I see the King being forced to walk around the room. There’s a man who is panicked and wants him back in bed and there’s a man with a club foot fighting against the Kings rest. I flare my nostrils that they would even entertain the thought of having him out of bed. 

“Get him back in the bed. Now.” I say through my teeth. “Are you fucking daft? How long has it been since the injury?” I walk to the bed as they lay him back down as his watery eye looks to me. 

“Hello? Can anyone speak?” I snap as I look around the room. 

“Just over a week.” the man in a white robe says. 

“And you’re the maester I presume?” I raise my eyebrow to him. 

“I am.” he nods looking at me nervously. 

“Mm, and this was your idea? To have your King up and walking about while he’s clearly in pain?” my voice starting to rise. Who knows what extra damage they’ve caused. 

“It was my plan, my Lady.” the clubfoot speaks. 

“I am no Lady.” I look at him with disgust. “And why would you have say over what is best for his health? You seem to only have one leg yourself? Shall I ruin your other and make you walk about the halls?” I walk towards him with darkening eyes. 

“No, I-“ he stutters stumbling back. 

“Leave this room. You’re not to enter again.” my eyes flash to the door and he’s quickly hobbling out. 

“What should we call you?” the woman asks. 

“Y/n. You are the Queen I assume?” my eyes look to her grateful ones. 

“Yes, Alicent. You don’t know how much it means to me that you came.” her voice cracks as she looks to her son. 

“I’ll see what I can do. Leave me with the Maester.” I wave them off and they quickly leave the room. “Tell me his external injuries.” I look to him as I walk to the Kings side. 

“As you can see he has burns.” he murmurs 

“Indeed, I can heal some of this but he will remained scarred.” I hum ghosting my fingers across the edge of the bed. 

“He has a broken leg that we’ve set and try to keep elevated.” he adds. 

“Unless you’re having him walk on said broken bone. How is that productive Grand Maester?” my eyes shoot to his. 

“Lord Larys demanded, I-“ 

“You let the clubfoot boss you around? Interesting.” I shake my head. “What else of your King?” I sigh. 

“Obviously he’s thoroughly bruised and beaten. I fear there’s more going on internally. His pain is immense.” he looks down folding his hands. 

“What is his name?” I hum trailing my fingers down his unscathed side. 

“Aegon.” the Grand Maester looks to my hand. 

“Where is his dragon?” I ask softly as I can feel the fire within his veins. 

“He’s been incapacitated and left at Rooks Rest.” his voice soft. 

“Bring the dragon here. They need each other, especially now. I’ll help them both.” I decide and look up to the Maester. 

“I will talk to the Prince Regent.” he avoids my eyes. 

“You’re scared of him. I am not. I would like to have an audience with him.” Aegon groans below me at my words. “I will meet him alone and not here.” I nod my head to the Maester dismissing him. 

I look down to the broken King below me and let out a soft exhale. This will be a challenge but I know I can fix this man below me. God knows why they left his dragon. I thought these dragonlords thought them Gods. I bring a stool to the side of Aegons bed and look to him. 

“Can you speak, Aegon?” I ask softly. 

“I can.” his voice rough. His lungs are still clouded with smoke and he’ll need a mixture to help begin to clear them and loosen what remains. 

“I will make something to help with your throat and chest so it’s easier to talk. I am here help.” the words taste weird on my tongue but I can see the relief he feels at them. 

“Thank you,” he starts to cough and I feel the rumble in his chest and the expanse of pain. 

I lay my hand on the smooth side of his chest and release tendrils of magic into him to help alleviate some of the pain. His breathing settles as his watery eye looks to me. The tears that slide down his cheek crack something in me and I pull away. 

“Are you a God?” his voice shattered. 

“I’m far from a God.” I let out a small chuckle as I rise. 

“Please don’t leave me,” his unmarred hand reaches for me. 

For a reason I don’t understand, or refuse to understand, I sit back down on the stool and place his hand in mine. My other hand reaches up and wipes away his flowing tears and he leans into my hand. Healing this man below me is going to take more than I anticipated. 

“Y/n,” the Maester walks through the door. “The Prince Regent will see you in the council chambers.” I nod my head as I walk to the table and begin writing down a list of herbs and tinctures. 

“I would like these brought to me. He is not to get out of that bed. If I come back and find him to be standing the person responsible will find themselves indisposed.” the Maester looks at me with wide eyes and nods. 

I follow a guard down the hall and stairs. This castle is massive and much brighter than I’m used to. We walk quickly down the halls avoiding anyone. We stop in front of yet another set of double doors which the guard groans open. I step in and the guard leaves me alone with the Prince Regent. 

“Who are you to summon me?” his voice carries across the chambers. 

“See to it that the Kings dragon is brought here with haste.” I look him over as I feel the rage pouring off of him. 

“You do not command me.” he says lowly rising from his chair. 

“No, the King does. You are simply a second son.” I hum walking to the table further assessing him. 

“You will not speak to me like that.” he grabs his dagger. 

“Have the dragon brought back alive or I will take your other eye before you can even get within range of me.” I say simply and he fumes stepping towards me. 

I blink and when I open my eyes I’m back in Aegons chambers. He’s asleep and I can hear the backup in his lungs. I softly place a hand on his shoulder and send out my magic into his blood stream. The magic in his entangles with mine and it seems to be begging for help. Mine continues on the search for other injuries that will need my assistance. 

My magic trails over his ribs and shutters. They’re bruised roughly and cracked in some spots. It continues to flow down his body and it reaches his broken leg and begins to stich some of itself into the marrow to help assist with mending it back together. He will still need rest and casting to keep it set but it will heal and hopefully quickly. 

The Maester walks in with a basket and places it on the table. I walk to the basket and dismiss him. I begin to prepare the mixture and sigh knowing it’ll taste terrible going down. Once I finish I walk back over to the bed and smooth Aegons hair until he slowly starts to stir. He jumps and I feel his anxiety spike as I continue to comfortingly pet his hair. 

“This is going to taste terrible. After a few days of this your voice will be back to normal and your lungs will be cleared.” he nods and lifts his head as I bring the cup to his lips. He gags as he swallows down the mixture and I help him lay back once he’s settled. 

“I’m having your dragon brought back.” I hum looking down to him. 

“My perfect Sunfyre.” he sighs as his eye starts to water again.

“I will help heal him as well. Until he gets here I will focus on your internal injuries first.” I hum sitting back on the stool. 

The dragon magic is evident in his veins but he needs a dragon connection to help make it stronger and allow me to begin healing his fire related injuries. Those injuries won’t be easy for him to heal and I won’t be able to reverse everything but I will be able to help lessen it. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Over the past week I have been able to heal his lungs and ribs. He has been talking to me and remaining silent around others. He’s pleaded with me to not share his progress with anyone. I can tell it’s from fear of someone I’m just not sure of who yet. I’ve been slowly trying to figure it out but he shuts down when I pry. 

“Is there any word on Sunfyre?” he asks me this everyday and today I can finally say that I do. 

“He shall be within the Red Keep gates within the hour.” I smile to him as his eye lights up. 

“Will you take me to see him?” he asks sitting up. 

“I need to assess him first and start his healing too. Your leg still needs to be in a cast and elevated. I don’t want the progress we’ve made to be for naught.” I pat his hand. 

“You’re not frightened by dragons?” he tilts his head. 

“Do I seem like the kind of person who has fears, Aegon?” I smile down to him. 

“Please help him if you can.” his voice soft as his eye pleads. 

“I will do everything I can.” I nod my head to him before I start towards the doors. 

“Please come back when you’re done,” his voice a whisper as his magic pulls out to mine. 

“You know I will.” I reply without turning around to him before shutting the doors behind me. 

I know the dragonlords know nothing of the extent of their magic. His calls to mine so loudly it’s been deafening over the past couple of days. Even now as I exit the main doors of the Keep I can feel it lingering after me. I feel another influx of magic as the gates groan open in front of me as they cart in a golden dragon. 

“Sunfyre.” I breathe out and his eye opens and looks directly to me. 

The gates shut and the men pulling the cart quickly disperse. I slowly walk up to the dragon and feel the absolute agony this great being is in. I look at his festering wounds and steady my feet. His breathing is labored as he tries to crane his neck. 

“Calm, Sunfyre. I will need to clean your wounds. I fear they’ve become infected and I will need to deeply inspect them.” I speak softly to the dragon as I approach with outstretched hands. 

I place my hand on his ripped stomach and almost double over at the pain that’s overwhelming my magic. I steel my feet beneath me and bring my other hand to join. The wounds begin seeping again as the infection is slowly being pushed out of his body. I remove my hands and stand back to catch my breath. 

I call for the guards to bring me fresh water basins and cloths. I take a seat on the stone and rest my back against the cart. Sunfyre grumbles from above me and pushes his snout into my shoulder. 

“Aegon lives. Though I’m sure you can feel that.” I sigh leaning back watching the guards bring me my supplies. 

I stand and begin to work on cleaning the wounds. The gouges are deep and I’m surprised that Sunfyre lasted as long as he did. The dragon groans and snaps its jaws as I clean for hours. Once I’m satisfied the wounds are truly clean I look up and notice it’s not the sun lighting my work but torches as the moon is high in the sky. 

“Bring live feed for him. Along with water.” I instruct and turn on my heel to return to Aegons chambers. 

“Where have you been? How is Sunfyre?” his eyes go wide as he looks at the blood on my hands and dress. 

“His wounds are cleaned and disinfected. I’m having food and water brought to him now. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how long I was gone or I would’ve sent word.” I sigh as I walk to his bathing chambers in hopes of finding something to wash my hands with. 

“Call for a servant to make you a bath.” he sits up looking to me with furrowed brows. 

“I should’ve washed before I came here. I was just in a rush,” I shake my head at my rambling. 

“Guards,” he shouts for the first time all week. 

“My King,” the guard bursts in the door not having heard his kings voice in well over a week.

“Have a servant come and make Y/n a bath.” he nods to the guard. 

“At once.” the guard nods and shuts the door behind him. 

“Aegon,” I start. 

“A bath is the least I can offer.” he cuts me off shaking his head. 

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Sunfyre is restored save for scars. Him and his rider will have that in common. I collect small vials of blood from Sunfyre throughout the week to mix into a poultice for Aegons burns. Sunfyre surprisingly cooperates and has no issues with my poking and prodding. 

“What is this now?” Aegons voice weary as I approach with the blood mixture. 

“The most painful part I’m afraid.” I murmur as I sit on the bed next to him. 

“What does it do?” he eyes the bowl in my hand. 

“Help with the burns. It will help heal and lessen them, at the cost of reliving the initial trauma.” I look to him as his eye goes wide. 

“Y/n,” his voice trembles as his unscarred hand reaches for mine. “I’m scared.” a tear slips down his face. 

“I’m here. You will be safe.” I murmur wiping away his tears. 

“Please not all at once.” his voice broken and pleading. 

“Of course not,” I shake my head. “I want to see if I can at least heal your eye first.” I bring my hand up to cup his scarred cheek. 

“Do you think you can?” his voice full of hope. 

“We shall find out.” I hum. 

His unscarred hand holds onto mine tightly. I take my free hand and dip my fingers into the blood mixture and hoover it over his closed eye. I softly spread it over the burnt skin and I begin to see it sizzle. His hand squeezes mine and I feel as if my hand is going to break. 

“It hurts, it hurts.” Aegon sobs and my heart cracks. 

“I’m sorry, I’m here, you’re safe.” I try to push my magic into his but his dragon magic is linking with Sunfyres blood blocking out any relief. 

I slide into the bed next to him and begin to smooth his hair as he continues to squeeze my hand. His sobs are slowly tearing into my soul and I feel absolutely helpless. His breathing starts to slow and his tears stop. I hover above him and look upon his eye. I get off the bed and retrieve a clean cloth and dip it into water. I wipe off his eye and relief washes over me. I push my magic into him and send it straight to his eye. The nerves are starting to repair themselves and I sigh as I feel the last connection. 

“Open your eyes Aegon.” I whisper down to him. 

He blinks his eyes open and a smile spreads across my face. I’ve done it. He has his other eye open and it appears to be moving in sync with the other as if there’s no issue. He scans the room and his violet eyes land on me. 

“You’ve done it.” Aegon starts crying. I smile down to him and cup his face. 

“You’ve done it. It takes a lot of strength to go through that again. You are very strong and brave.” I offer him praise and he begins crying even harder. 

“Can that heal my entire body?” he looks up to me with watery eyes. 

“It could but it would take many moons. It took me a whole week to collect this blood just for your eye.” I look to him biting my lip. 

“And whose blood is that?” he looks to me blinking rapidly still getting used to having both eyes once more. 

“Sunfyres.” I look to the now empty bowl. 

“He allowed you to take his blood?” he looks at me quizzically. 

“Indeed, I have a way with words.” I hum smiling down to him. “Although, I do have another way to help you, but me suggesting this may be overstepping and possibly a little insane.” I say hushed biting my lip. 

“What is it?” he hangs on to my every word. 

I’ve been mulling over this idea since I first saw the broken King. I have heard of many different magics and Gods throughout my years and this is the first time I’ve ever considered seeking them out. Running away with the King of Westeros is absolutely mad but I’m hoping he’ll come with me. I’m reluctant to admit that I’ve become quite fond of him and wish to take him away from his family. 

“We will reside in Bravos as you work to become a part of the Faceless Men Guild. There they will train you on how to become no one. After you succeed, I know of sorcerers in Essos who can conjure a doppelgänger or a clone of sorts that would almost directly resemble you, save for a few features. From here we bring him back to Bravos where essentially you would kill him and take his face and in turn kill your old self.” Aegon blinks at me as he takes in this information and plan. 

“You said we? You would stay with me?” he looks up to me as if this is the only factor that matters to him. 

“I would, if you want me to.” I chew on the inside of my cheek. 

“For how long?” he sits up. 

“As long as you’d like me to.” I murmur looking to him. 

“Why?” he squints his eyes assessing me. 

“I’ve become quite attached to you.” I look to him with raw eyes. “My magic seems to hum and mold with yours.” I whisper. 

“My magic?” he raises an eyebrow. 

“We can explore it later once we’re safe.” I nod to him hoping he’ll come with me. 

He starts to rise from his bed and I go to his side. He brushes me off as he stands and strides across the room and I’m left speechless. He opens his wardrobe and pulls out a bag and begins to stuff clothes and coin into it. He grabs a cloak and pulls it over his shoulders before turning back to me. 

“Let’s go tonight.” I look at him in shock as he stands before me. “Oh, I’ve been practicing at night. I wanted to surprise you.” a small half smile spreads across his face. 

“You amaze me.” I shake my head in awe of him. 

“Come, I know a way where we won’t be seen.” he pulls me to the wall before opening a door to the internal tunnels. 

“Put both of your hands in mine and close your eyes.” I hum and he grabs my hands quickly. 

I look to make sure his eyes are closed and I slowly shut mine and picture us on a boat that is to arrive in Bravos within the day. I breathe out and open my eyes as I hear the sea crash onto the wooden ship. Aegons hands clench mine as his eyes open. His eyes go wide as his hands fall from mine as he looks out at the sea. 

“Are you sure you’re not a God?” he whispers as he turns back to me. 

“I’m sure.” I smile as I pull him to an empty bench as we watch the sea sway. 

“What of Sunfyre?” he turns to me with worry in his voice. 

“He’ll most likely follow our magic here and reside in the countryside. He’ll be safe regardless of his decision.” I nod my head assuring him. 

We sit in silence as the ship hands begin preparing for us to reach the docks. We keep to ourselves so we don’t call any attention to ourselves. Once the boat docks we slip off the boat and go into the city to seek shelter for the upcoming moons. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

We’ve been residing a couple blocks from the guild and they were respectful enough of me and my magic to allow Aegon to reside with me and not within the walls. If they wouldn’t have allowed it I know he would not have stayed, he is attached to my hip when he’s not training with them. I don’t much mind because I enjoy feeling wanted for once. 

He comes through the door and up the stairs into our main room and pulls me into a hug. He has begun to pick apart my walls and is the first person I’ve allowed to hug me in years, if not decades. I hold him against me and whisper words of praise to him. Everyday we have a routine of me peppering him with compliments and encouragement to get him out of our small apartment and then words of praise and adoration when he comes home. 

We’ve become very domestic over the past two moons. We started sharing a bed instead of taking turns on the lumpy couch. I cook us dinner while he talks of his training and tasks and I listen dutifully. While he’s gone during the day I venture into the city and make coin by doing easy healing. If I want a little extra coin to buy Aegon his favorite food I’ll cast a couple curses and then make my way to the meat market. 

“I have my final test tomorrow.” his eyes slide to mine. 

“Already?” I look up to him. 

“I have no issue being no one because I’ve spent my whole life as no one.” he says softly as I feel his sadness. 

“Then you shall be mine.” the words fall from my lips before I can stop them. 

“Y/n,” he whispers looking to me with glassy eyes. 

“Aegon,” I walk to him and cup his face. 

“I wish I wasn’t so hideous,” he looks up to me as his eyes become red as his tears fall. 

“I don’t think you’re hideous.” I say hushed as I kiss his forehead. I slowly offer him kisses around his face and make sure to pay extra attention to his scarred side. 

“I don’t deserve you.” he shakes his head as tears cascade down his cheeks. “I just want to kiss you and walk around the city with you without everyone feeling bad for you. I want you to see me as the man I can truly be.” his voice cracking as he continues to cry burying himself in my arms. 

“I see you as the man you wish to be. Your scars have never made me feel any different about you.” I smile smoothing his hair. “If you truly wish to kiss me, then kiss me.” my words barely audible. 

He pulls back from me and looks to me. He looks to my lips but shakes his head and looks away. I know he’s fighting an internal battle that I can’t help with. He lets out a deep breath and shakes his head and looks to me again. 

“Fuck it,” he shrugs and pulls my lips to his. 

My magic seeps into his mouth and caresses his. His tongue pushes into my mouth and slides against mine as I sigh. His hand travels to the back of my neck keeping me tightly against him as if I’ll slip away. His other hand wraps tightly around my back and I wrap my arms around him clinging to him. We slowly pull back breathing heavily and he places one last kiss on lips before stepping back and looking me over. 

“Thank you for seeing me as I am.” he smiles to me. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

After Aegon returns the next day he’s beaming at passing. I hug him tightly as I feel his excitement as our next step is approaching. I’ve been storing my magic for us to make this journey to Qarth and have enough for us to make the return back to Bravos. We pack a small bag which is mostly filled with coins should they decide to be greedy. I hold my palms out to Aegon and he places his hands in mine and closes his eyes as he knows what’s coming. 

We blink open our eyes in the morning sun as we stand in front of the House of the Undying. A gray man exits the single door and looks directly through me to my magic. Aegons hand is still in mine as he looks on at the strange man. 

“Y/n, it’s been quite awhile.” his voice speaks directly in my mind. 

“I require a favor.” I ask my voice strong and unwavering. 

“A new face for your lover?” he looks to Aegon and smiles. 

“What is your price?” I ask aloud. 

“Come inside, we can discuss this with my counterparts.” we waves us in after him. 

“Do not accept anything. Let me do the talking.” I whisper lowly pulling him inside with me. 

As we enter the stone building it completely warps until we’re sanding in front of multiple seated gray men. Their magic is similar to mine but theirs always seems to leave my head reeling. I ground myself and look over them before me. 

“How lovely it is to see you again, Y/n.” one of them purrs across the hall. 

“I’m absolutely delighted to be here.” I look up to them with dead eyes. 

“Come now, last time wasn’t so bad.” the leader of them walks down to stand in front of Aegon and me. 

“Interesting that you couldn’t care less if he’s handsome or not. You’re doing this for him.” his voice slithers around my ears. 

“What is your price?” I look to him expectantly, unfazed by his words. 

“Why can’t we talk first? It’s been so long. Let us have some tea.” he hums as the room warps once more and we’re sitting at a table with a kettle and three cups around us. 

“Do not drink the tea.” I push Aegons cup away from him. 

“I hope Asshai and the shadow lands treated you well.” the man smiles with rotted teeth. 

“It was a very eye opening experience. I learned many things that only the shadows whisper.” I return his predatory smile. 

“Enlighten me,” he drawls. 

My magic slinks out of me and pierces into his corpse of a body. He chuckles lowly as it circles around his heart but it disappears quickly as I delve deeper to constrict around his remaining life force. 

“You know what I seek and I shall have it or your eternity will be cut short.” I nod my head to him as my magic begins to encapsulate his magic. 

“You have gone where we won’t even tread.” his voice a whisper as his eyes cloud over with blackness. 

“Do you wish for me to take you there?” I tilt my head. 

The scene warps around us and we’re back in the hall with the rest of the Undying. They look on as their leader is crumbling to the floor and they all shoot to their feet. Aegon is ever silently sitting next to me watching me in silent awe. 

“Enough!” they shout and I slowly begin to pull my magic back. 

“Bring him out.” the leader coughs as his breathing simmers. 

The only features that I see are different about the man walking into the room in front of me is shorter hair and blue eyes. Aegon stands as he approaches and looks to him shaking his head. He turns to me with tears in his eyes and I rise to his side. The three of us link hands and shut our eyes and when we open them we are back in our small apartment in Bravos. 

“Can I do it now?” he releases my hands as the man with us looks blankly ahead. 

“Before you do,” I pull him to me and place my lips on his. “I would be content to spend the rest of my days with you as you are now, Aegon.” I pull back look to him and nod my head. 

He turns to the man and pulls a knife from his waist. He brings it up and quickly slips it across the man’s neck and helps him ease to the ground. As he rises I look to the scarred man on the ground and begin to trail my eyes up to the man before me. As my eyes travel up to his face I see he’s still focused on his former self on the ground. 

“How strange.” Aegon says tilting his head at the body. “I feel so free.” his eyes make their way to mine as I take in his now stormy blue eyes. 

“Your magic is the same. You are the same Aegon to me.” I wave my hand at the body and it disappears into a black cloud of shadow. 

He pulls me to the bath room and he stares in the mirror. He’s touching his face and running his fingers through his hair. For the first time I truly feel his magic settled and content. It rests against mine lulling it. Our eyes lock in the mirror and he turns to me. 

“Do you like the way I look?” he asks me nervously. 

“I do.” I reassure him pulling him into a hug. 

“I can kiss you properly now.” he murmurs into my neck. “My face won’t feel so rough. Both of my hands will be smooth as they explore every inch of you. I have a full head of hair you can pull on when I’m buried between your thighs. Men won’t think they can so easily steal you from me.” his words are laced with promises that tear through me. 

“You know I didn’t care what you looked like before.” I whisper holding him tighter to me. 

“But I did. So thank you for helping me.” he kisses my neck softly as I shutter. “I never expected you to do this for me when you walked into my chambers all those moons ago.” he holds me tighter still peppering kisses along my pulse. 

He kisses up my jaw until he locks our lips together. His hand buries itself in my hair molding me to him. I moan into his mouth and pull him closer to me. My hands trail up to his now short hair and pull it as he groans into my mouth. 

“I want you, I need you. Please,” he pulls back from my lips and looks to me desperately as I feel his need pulsing around the room. 

“You have me.” I nod to him as he attaches his lips back to mine. 

He walks us out of the bathroom and into our bedroom. He starts to pull off my dress quickly and groans when he takes in my body. His hands immediately roam over my skin as I shiver at his soft touch. His fingertips are hot with his magic thrumming through him. 

“I just want to touch you.” he says softly as he lays me back on the bed. 

His hands glide along my curves and he settles above me. He kisses me once more as his fingers dip between my legs. I shutter at his light teasing touches as he chuckles against my lips. 

“Why are you still wearing clothes?” I whine as his fingers travel around my core avoiding where I want him. 

He kisses down my throat and licks across my chest. He sucks a nipple into his mouth as a gasp falls from my mouth. His other hand goes to my other to flick against it until I’m pushing my chest up into his face. His short hair tickles across my stomach as he dips between my thighs. He kisses my thighs as I try to control my breathing as I watch him. 

He licks slowly up my slit and my head falls back to the pillow. His tongue spreads my wetness before licking up to my clit swirling around it. He closes his lips around me and begins a rhythm that has me bucking into his mouth. 

“Aegon,” his name falls from my lips repeatedly as my hand snakes into his hair. 

He groans against me and continues to lick against me. I come on his mouth as he continues at a faster speed before slamming his fingers into me. My legs try to shut around his head and he just chuckles into my core as my legs capture him. His fingers quicken and I’m moaning like I belong in a pleasure house and he tears more pleasure from me. 

“I’d be happy to spend the rest of my days here.” he kisses my sensitive bud causing me to shutter. 

He rises off the bed and I look at him with heavy eyes. He slowly removes his clothes as if he’s taunting me and I sit there and lick my lips patiently. He looks to me with darkened eyes as he strokes himself. 

“I was worried my cock would be smaller.” he chuckles lowly as I squirm watching him touch himself. 

He crawls over me and takes my lips for his own. I feel the confidence of his movements and he becomes more sure of himself. He grinds his hips against mine as he slides through my wetness. He lines himself up and pushes into me groaning loudly. 

I whimper as he starts to move his hips. At first it’s slow and then it turns into the fiery passion like his magic. His hips pound into mine as I cling to him. His lips swallow my moans as kisses me full of teeth and tongue. His hips start to falter as I grind my hips against his. 

“I’m sorry I’m not gunna last much longer,” he grunts against my mouth as he chases his pleasure. 

His magic caresses against mine and I feel hot pleasure wash over me as his warmth begins to fill me. I clench around him while his hips continue to slowly grind into me. He kisses me slowly as he allows us to continue to feel our pleasure. He releases me and lays next to me but pulls me close against him. 

“I never would’ve thought I could do that again. I was scared I would have to fantasize about you forever.” he giggles as he starts to pepper kisses across my chest. 

“Aegon,” I whimper as my hand flies to his hair. 

“Do you want me to grow it out again?” he looks up to me. 

“Whatever makes you happy,” I hum down at him. 

“What about my eyes? Are you sad they aren’t violet anymore?” he searches my eyes. 

“I love your blue eyes as much as I did your violet ones.” I hum cupping the side of his face. 

“Do you want to stay in Bravos or should we go somewhere else?” he looks to me. 

“Let’s decide that in the morning.” I bring his lips to mine once more. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌

[housetargaryenloyalist]

From a seed grows

Chapter I: Thyme

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Synopsis: To claim a dragon one must be prepared to give up their life, yet this is the one thing you never wished to give up.

Wordcount: 3.5K

Warnings: implications of death, mentions of death, but really light nothing graphic.

Author's note: It's done, the first chapter! Fun little fact: every chapter will be named after a plant/flower that represents an emotion/theme of one of the characters :) I put a lot of thought into this story, the chapter names, and the character so I hope you will feel that as you read.

One last thing, a huge thank you to @madame-fear for showing interest into the story which prompted me to continue working on it! I adore her and her work, you should check out her blog!

English is not my first language, apologies for any mistakes.

Happy reading <3

‎⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ♡Masterlist♡ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Blood dripped from your hands, the dagger clattering to the floor. The sound echoed through the dark, empty alleyway and reverberated in your head. Soft, sharp gasps left you as you staggered backwards, your legs struggling to keep you standing as you buckled to the ground.

Blood dripped from your hands, the dagger clattering to the floor. The sound echoed through the dark, empty alleyway and reverberated in your head. Soft, sharp gasps left you as you staggered backwards, your legs struggling to keep you standing as you buckled to the ground.

“What have I done?” your voice whispered to the night, your hands gripped the stone of the street as you struggled to regain your breath. You couldn’t stay here; staying here meant getting caught, getting caught meant being punished, and the punishment would most likely be death.

A life for a life.

You looked around you, hoping you were concealed enough that you wouldn’t be recognized. The only light was a single street lantern at the entry to the alley and the moon. You knew you had very few options: leave the city, leave and hope you’ll never be found out, be found out and flogged, tortured, flayed, or hanged. None of them sounded particularly great, but one sounded the best.

You crawled to where you had dropped the dagger, knowing you couldn’t leave it behind, no matter how rusty or stained it was. You took out an old handkerchief you always carried and wiped the blood off the blade, before stuffing the dagger in its holder. You sat there for a moment, trying to regain your breath before forcing yourself upwards and onwards. You prayed as you walked towards your home, prayed for forgiveness, prayed for mercy, prayed for help.

Prayed to all the Gods you knew of, old and new, to grant you safe passage out of the city. You passed people and shops, pleasure houses and closed homes, you passed by your life, your dreams and hopes. All to be left behind.

A moment later you were at the humble shack you called home, or at least your home was one of the rooms within the shack. Fleabottom wasn’t known for having particularly good real estate, but you and all the others made do. You went to your room, unlocking the shabby door that had seen too many beatings to really be considered safe and entered your little haven.

It was by all accounts small and in an abysmal shape, mold decorated the bleak walls alongside various other stains whom you did not wish to identify. Your bed was on the left side of the room, with a clear view of the door (just in case) and your small, very small, dresser was in front of it.

You dug through the room searching for a bag of any kind, when you found it you filled it with anything that could be considered even remotely valuable. It may have been little, but it should allow you to buy a one-way trip on a ship. The destination mattered little, as long as it wasn’t King's Landing.

As you ruffled through the top drawer of the dresser you stumbled upon what felt like a button. In all your years of owning it, you had never once felt this weird object hidden amidst your possessions. Curiosity beguiled you to push it and a latch opened on the top of the dresser, revealing a small hidden compartment.

Although curiosity had won the first battle, you were unsure if you wanted it to win this one. Alas, you had dipped a toe in the water and the waves were now too strong to get out. A hidden compartment was no novelty, many stories started with the protagonist finding an object of great significance in such a place and then embarking on an earth-changing adventure to save all of mankind.

You, however, felt like quite the opposite of such, even when your fingers felt an object hidden in the dark, hidden place. You almost laughed at the absurdity of this day, perhaps the Gods above were in a jesting mood. Slowly, carefully, you pulled the strange object from its hiding place, and soon you were face to face with something you had never seen before.

It looked to be a necklace, a simple silver chain with a simple pendant, it looked much like the necklaces you saw people wear around Flea Bottom. There was truly nothing notable about it, except for maybe the seven-pointed star of the Seven decorating the front and the small engraving on the back.

An engraving that had faded badly, presumably from the necklace having been worn a lot. It could only be seen when held at a certain angle, with ample light to decipher the words: Naejot issa byka zaldrīzes.

You rolled the words over your tongue, trying your hardest to grasp whatever language it was. It sounded oddly familiar, as if it were something from a dream, a memory unclear and nearly forgotten but now resurfacing. Whatever the words may mean, you presumed them to be words the previous owner must have cherished when taking into account how faded they were.

As you looked at the words more closely you noticed small initials beneath them, your eyes lit up slightly. This necklace must have been a gift. The initials were vague, two letters common enough they could belong to anyone.

A.T.

An odd feeling washed over you as you imagined what must have happened to the owner of this beautiful piece, how it ended up hidden in a dirty old dresser, in a shabby room in an even shabbier house. You did not have much time left to waste pondering the necklace’s history, dawn was creeping up into the sky, you could see small streaks of early morning light on the horizon.

In a hurry you put the necklace around your neck and hid it under your simple clothes. You braided your hair, in a quick manner, so it would not hinder you as you hurried through the maze of Flea Bottom.

You arrived at the harbor quickly through some risky but effective shortcuts, nearly avoiding a drunken brawl. At last you had made it to what would hopefully lead you to safety, or close to it. Sailors were moving around you carrying various sizes of knapsacks and their fellow sailors who had partaken too much in cheap ale. Dockworkers were starting their morning shifts as they moved to unload the various ships laying in their docks.

They carried crates filled with the finest fabrics, with spices you could not pronounce nor taste for they would surely cost more than you’d ever be able to afford. Your eyes wandered around to find someone you could approach and soon enough you spotted a young man with silvery blond hair and shabby clothes moving towards one of the ships. As you looked to see where he was going, you noticed some others moving towards the same ship. All sporting that same silvery blond hair.

You jogged towards the man who was surprised to see you approach him, “excuse me,” you smiled at him as he came to a halt, a silent invitation for you to continue, “where is that ship headed?”

The man furrowed his eyebrows at you, as if you just asked the most idiotic thing known to man. “To Dragonstone,” was all he said before he took off, increasing the speed in his step, almost as if to deter you from following.

You pondered to yourself for a moment, as you watched more silvery blondes approach the ship. There had been rumors, for there are always rumors in Flea Bottom, about the Black Queen looking for Targaryen bastards. Anyone with either silvery blond hair, lilac eyes, or both or even neither was urged to come to Dragonstone for an opportunity to bond with a dragon. Perhaps it was more than a rumor as you saw more and more people board the ship.

It was foolish, really, truly, well and wholly foolish, you thought to yourself as you stood in front of Dragonstone, the holdfast large and formidable. Guards escorted the large group to a small courtyard, as you looked through the crowd most of them had silvery blond hair, some light, others dark. There were a few on the other hand who had come with brown hair, red hair, or even black.

All had come to stand before the Black Queen, to serve her cause by potentially claiming a Targaryen dragon. On your journey, the people had been speaking of nothing else but the dragons, their size, their coloring, their behavior.

Much regarding the opinions of dragons had changed after the Greens paraded Meleys’ head around King’s Landing for all to see. There used to hang an air of unspoken devotion to dragons, they were to be feared, regaled, and not opposed, unless one wished for imminent death.

They were gods flying high above men, and the people who rode them were their only link to humanity. Now the smallfolk knew dragons were mortal, killable, vulnerable, and that the very house who rode them also killed them, paraded them, and unlike the small folk, did not worship them.

People whispered of killing dragons, where before those words were said in bouts of drunken foolishness, they were now said with drunken confidence. The people were hungry, and the dragons were potential food. Food for the stomach of starving men, ailing peasants, and also food to fuel a rebellion.

So now, for one of these dragonriders to actively seek out Targaryen bastards and lure them with a possibility of becoming equals, many could not resist. Not even you. You knew the dangers involved in claiming such a phenomenal beast, knew it most likely meant your death if you truly tried to claim a dragon. You also knew that you were now away from King’s Landing, in what could possibly be the only place safe for no one would dare attack this stronghold with all the dragons that lay within.

A guard came up to you as you were letting your eyes wander, his Kingsguard uniform reflecting the sun caught your attention, “Hoods down,” he commanded as he reached over to pull it down himself.

Before you could stop him, you could already feel the wind tussling your braid and tickling your ear. Now, with your hood down and hair a mess, you were just like all the others.

A silver-haired bastard.

A dragonseed.

What a cruel fate you had.

Not long after, a young man strolled up to a platform in the courtyard, silence befell the crowd as they realized who he was.

Clad in the dark red and black of the Targaryens, his hands crossed on top of the pommel of his sword, brown curls whirling around his face.

Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne, daughter to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and he was a beautiful, beautiful man. He addressed the crowds, warning them of the danger, thanking them for their arrival, yet it all felt weirdly aggressive. There was no thankfulness or appreciation to be found in his tone, his brows furrowed and his lips downturned.

You heard a man behind you whisper that he was just a coddled princeling and another chuckled in response, you looked behind you briefly hoping that a stare would silence them. As you looked up back to the prince, you noticed him looking in your very direction. It almost felt as though he was looking directly at you, into your own eyes.

Others who had the same notion as you lowered their heads in reverence, in respect for their prince albeit that some carried an air of reluctance to them as they did. You felt no such devotion, felt no such need and your actions reflected that. There would be no bowing to a man meters in front of you, who spoke to you with contempt, as if your lives meant nothing at all.

His speech was over quickly, and he was gone with a few guards following in his steps. Another guard stepped up and made one last declaration before the group was to go into the dragons’ lair. “All those who wish to leave may leave, no harm shall befall you. You will be escorted back via ship at the earliest possible moment. All the others-” he signaled another guard who opened up the barricades put in place earlier, “follow me.”

Many of the crowd left, deciding that the threat of death so brutal was too large to face in comparison to the one they would face in King’s Landing. You supposed you could not blame them, a death by dragon fire or dragon stomping didn’t sound pleasant, however the fate that would no doubt await you in Flea Bottom sounded worse.

The ones left over were escorted to the inner parts of the castle, staircase after staircase, never once allowed to dawdle or gawk. The Queensguard were strict and didn’t hesitate to employ certain tactics to keep all in line. You winced as one of the guards struck a young man for touching a statue, the guard said nothing as he did so, only pushing the lad back into the line when he was done.

Tears pricked in the corner of the boy’s eyes, his hand cradling his hurting cheek. He had been pushed right in front of you, almost causing you two to collide. You tapped his shoulder as you procured an old handkerchief from your pocket, “here” you said as you practically shoved it into his non-occupied hand. He smiled a soft smile at you in thanks, before taking the fabric and dabbing at his eyes.

He didn’t seem much younger than you, perhaps he wasn’t. You didn’t ponder it too much however, chances were that he would die in the dragon pit just like many others. There would be no benefit in cosying up with the others, knowing that after this most of you will likely be dead or have risen too far in station to consider yourself with your lessers.

You cursed yourself and your cynicism often, however, today you proved yourself right. You were clinging to the walls of the dragon’s cave, hoping for dear life he had not seen you. The only light source you had were the flames that had come from Vermithor as he erupted in a fury that made him worthy of his name.

By now he must have devoured nearly all of the bastards that came to try and stake a claim. You pitied all of them, they tried to improve their standing however now all they were were ash and bones. Growls followed by screams were heard in the distance from yourself, perhaps the distance was large enough for you to get out and run, flee, escape, whatever the apt word might be.

An escape would be difficult, were it not for the fact that Vermithor was deeply engrossed in hunting a few people in the opposite direction of where you needed to go. You stalked through his enclosure with practiced ease, you tried to remain calm with your heart pounding in your chest, clouding your hearing and making your breath erratic. You refused to die here, you refused to be a burned corpse or some dragon’s dinner. No, you wanted to be more, so much more.

You wanted to be more than a peasant from Flea Bottom, a silver-haired bastard, a woman, you wanted to be more than all that. You wanted to be more than a dragonseed, more than what your parents doomed you to be. In order to achieve that, you would need to rise to the occasion and escape. With every ounce of strength, willpower, resentment, and fear you had in you, you ran towards the exit.

As you reached the opening you noticed it didn’t lead to solid ground, no grass or rocks to greet you. As you smelled the fresh air you also smelled the unmistakable smell of the sea. A salty fishy smell filled your nostrils and consumed your lungs.

Into the sea you soon jumped, a stupid, reckless idea, but far better than trying to climb down a mountain. All you hoped for was that the Gods would show you mercy and carry you to shore. The sea was cold, colder than you had expected, it took you great power to swim close to shore and drag your body through the sand before collapsing.

Your chest moved up and down in quick succession, desperate for air, as you tried to regain your strength you closed your eyes, letting the happenings of the day pass through your mind.

Sleep tried to claim you, alas, it was to no avail, for soon thereafter a loud roar resonated into the sky causing you to bolt upright from where you laid. A winged creature flew above you. It was large and formidable, you believed it to be even larger than the dragon you had seen in the Dragonstone caves.

The formidable beast’s shadow covered you as it flew over the sun, for as far as your eyes could see the world was now shrouded in darkness, only in the far distance could you see the sun rays touch the ground once more. The roars it let out were bone-chilling, a feeling of dread had washed over you from the moment you rose but now you were rooted to the ground with the fear of death settling in your veins which ironically left you unable to move. You had never imagined your death this way. Where nobles imagined dying in their canopy beds on silken sheets, you would be lucky if you died by a clean cut to your neck.

Now, however, it seemed you would die from this dragon thinking you made a decent hors d'oeuvre, before finding something larger or more plentiful to truly fill its stomach. Gods you really had a most cruel fate.

Once more a deafening roar resounded to the sky, causing your knees to buckle in fear as your hands shot to your ears in a vain attempt to dampen the noise. You kept your eyes locked onto the large figure as it soared through the sky, going higher and then lower, as if taunting you, playing with you, truly regarding you as prey.

In an odd way it frustrated you, standing there, waiting, baiting your breath as to when the dragon finally decided to end you. Anger rose through you more and more the longer this cat and mouse dance continued. Fear became an afterthought as your anger of a futile death overcame you.

“I’m here!” You screamed at the sky “Kill me! I dare you!” If anyone saw you, they’d be regarding you as a madwoman, which admittedly you were. However, it seemed as though no one was there, on this vast beach with waves continuing their cycle of ebb and flow, you were alone. Alone with the dragon. One last attempt you thought as you opened your mouth to scream, yet no sound could come for that very moment the dragon chose to descend onto the ground.

Your frozen feet suddenly could not move any faster, the large dragon got closer as you scrambled to get away, the sand making for incredibly difficult terrain when you want to be quick. One wrong step and you were sent tumbling down, face first in the sand. With the thought of impending death overtaking your mind, you found the tiniest bit of energy to turn around. In doing so, you were facing the dragon as it descended, shielding your eyes as sand was blown in all directions from the beating of the wings. A loud thud echoed on the empty beach as the beast finally stood on solid ground, its large body covered you in shadow.

Its snout was so close to your face, you could feel the puffs of hot breath. Bright, emerald green eyes were in stark contrast to the pitch black of its scales. The dragon was magnificent as it was terrifying, you gulped and took rapid breaths. Panic had settled in now, panic, fear, and anger, none were a pretty feeling. One of your hands went up to clutch your new necklace as you closed your eyes.

Waiting for the inevitable.

.

.

.

On a distant dune stood a smaller dragon, much smaller than the one hovering over the young woman. Upon that small dragon, with scales of olive green and wings decorated with a pale orange, sat the young prince, a spyglass held to one of his eyes as he witnessed the scene.

A part of him felt a great sense of pity for the woman. She looked young, perhaps around his age, and she had showed great courage in fleeing from Vermithor. A pity she would die so soon, yet at the same time. A bastard less or more would not make any difference

He closed his spyglass and pocketed it inside his tunic. There was no need to watch the scene unfold, he thought. He buckled his saddle tighter and spoke to his dragon, “sōvēs Vermax.”

[tarjapearce]

Ok, ok, ok, hear me out….

Tarzan Miguel…

Ahh, nonny. Casually just saw this scrumptious fanart of him as Tarzan by @Miuworm in X 🫠. And yeah. (Kinda amazed at how you guys manifest these things 🤭)

Like Me

Tarzan! Miguel O'Hara x Reader.

WARNINGS: nothing too bad. Depictions of violence, a bit of implicit gore and animal death. No proofread.

Summary: Your savior from a certain death is quite touchy-feely.

Another for Miguelverse ❤️✨

The furious waves of the sea clashed over your body, submerging it in the freezing and alive water.

Arms moved, swimming your way back up, gasping for a much needed gulp of air as soon as you reached the surface.

Peeking around you, trying to find something to get a hold of or climb on, exhaustion was crawling up to your limbs, like hypothermia.

Fuck

Mind cursed with every foul word you could've imagine. How did trip ended up like this? In what moment the clouds turned so grey they darkened the sky, announcing a downpour with a loud rumble? It all took minutes to go sour and south.

You were there to do a land recognition, and see if you could get home some new species. Sergei Kravinoff, or Kraven The Hunter, was the lead of your expedition, all financed by a man named Kingpin.

Your name was called, echoed in the distance.

"Over here!!" You flailed your arms in an attempt of being seen, and hopefully the debris wouldn't blear their sight to find you.

You swam in the direction of the voice, teeth clattered, tool belt heavy on your hips, but you knew if you lost them, any possible chance of getting another were impossible. Plus, Kraven hated it when you lost your equipment as they weren't cheap.

Every paddle of your arms felt heavier, like if your wrists had been tied up with iron pounds, dragging you down. Lips turned blue and trembled. Salty and cold water doused you, but you weren't to give up.

You had fought your way to get a spot in this expedition and a pathetic ending like drowning wasn't an option. You spotted a wooden board floating nearby.

C'mon!

Your hands stretched towards it anf finally managed to keep yourself afloat. Panting, groaning and shivering, letting the cold to finally sink in. Feet had started to numb out, ragged breaths turned laborious.

Once more someone called you, this time you recognised the voice. Peter, the other nerd according to Kraven. You two were the ones selected to be the scientist that would lead Kraven to a certain victory in Nueva York.

Ever since Norman Osborn and Otto Octavius had discovered new species of spiders and reptiles, everyone proclaimed them geniuses ahead of their time, leaving the hunting behind.

Kraven was set into getting either a new species or something alike to regain his forlorn glory. He refused to be forgotten.

But everything pointed that the island you were now had a mind of its own. As if preventing anyone to delve in further into it's secrets.

You were pulled out from the board by Peter that immediately covered you up in a raggedy blanket. Despite the fabric being old, it gave you enough warmth to avoid death taking a hold on you.

Kraven cursed in russian, but was hopeful y'all be found soon. The ship's black box was ruined, your luggage at least was minimal, and it was enough to be saved by ether Peter or anyone kind enough.

A powerful and enormous wave had turned the boat upside-down. Knocking everything loose out of the board. The guns and other tools were the only things that survived.

But, you hoped, the whole fiasco was just temporary. Fisk wasn't a careless man, he'd probably send help soon. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting your bones to freeze.

----

You woke up nearby the makeshift fireplace, relishing the heat your body had lacked. Clothes were humid, but no longer soaked and freezing.

Sighing, you stirred awake, letting the tension leave your body with a groan.

"Hey, wake up." Peter approached, concern etched into his features as he helped you on your feet.

"Where's everyone?"

"I... We uh, got lost. One moment Kraven is here and the other he's not. Left us behind. Or, he also got lost."

"Kraven? Lost?" Peter could sense the deadpan in your voice and he sighed, exasperated.

"I'm just trying to light up the mood. He was pissed. So I assume that he just thought he'd do it himself." He shrugged and you sighed, rubbing your neck.

"Great! now we're lost, my luggage is nowhere to be found but at least we have tools, right?"

The faltering in Peter's face made yours to fall as he shook his head.

"God, I swear... Fuck him. If I'm discovering something, Ain't sharing with him!"

"Let's focus on surviving first. The soil is rich, meaning the jungle is nearby."

"And so is the wild life." You sighed and Peter groaned.

"Look, thinking negatively won't take us anywhere. I'm not saying either let's throw a party for being stuck in an unknown place. But we gotta move. It's about to get dark."

"Right... You're right" You rubbed your face, exhausted, at least you weren't freezing anymore. But being at Nature's mercy wasn't pretty either, yet again. You were selected by none other than Sergei. If he trusted your judgement to be valuable enough, why couldn't you?

With a new resolution in mind, you took the raggedy blanket and other little tools Peter managed to salvage and soon ventured yourselves in the thickness of the jungle.

-----

Sun had long disappeared in the sky leaving a faint trail of golden and orange in the clouds, and you were certain that it had been hours since you walked in the jungle. No signs of Kraven or the caravan of people.

No signs of society or at least his stupid russian jokes that you were sure people laughed at by sheer convenience.

The only advantage Kraven possessed in his favor, was him being an avid hunter. You only studied species, animals and flowers to be more precise, and had a little knowledge of mechanics. Enough to fix your own machines and trinkets. Peter was an expert in mechanics and soil. You followed him.

"I think I've seen that rock before" Peter sighed as he slouched against a tree.

"Don't say that, Parker." You wheezed as you followed him, resting your aching back against him. "I'm definitely finding some poison and put it on Kraven's drink."

"Relax. Without us he's going into unknown territory."

"In case you haven't noticed, he's a professional hunter. And I hate with passion skirts."

The distant rumble of a storm approaching echoed through the sky.

"A hunter, not a geologist. He acts like an animal to get animal bodies."

"Still, he knows his way around these places, Pete."

"Shooting things till they're dead isn't knowing about things"

Peter stood and offered his hand.

"Uh-uh I just sat down."

"We gotta at least go upwards. This area is prone to flooding."

With a vexed groan you took Peter's hand and he pulled you up. You were tired of walking, but if he said you needed to advance, you obeyed.

"Fuck..."

----

Despite the soaking rain pouring around you, Peter had found an amalgamation of trees and branches supported by a hollow tree.

Birds chirped and cawed, bugs joined the concert once the rain subsided, the distant flapping of the birds and the rustle of leafs prevented you from lowering your guard. The only comforting thing besides Peter's company was the petrichor smell, pungent in the air.

You'd spend hours inhaling the gift of nature, if it wasn't for your belly grumbling, and Peter had ran out of cashews.

Even crickets sounded tempting to eat. With the right spices, they tasted crunchy. But all you could do was to imagine their taste as it was time to move again.

"Knowing Kraven, he'd go up to the mountains, probably they've sent a camp nearby a river. So let's look for one."

"Yeah, even better so I can drown that fucker in. He better pay us good for this stupid prank."

Peter chuckled and looked around for a minute, his blue eyes narrowed upon setting his sight in a tree trunk. Broken in half, but what truly made his... whatever this unpleasant feeling to rise within was the vicious marks indented on the tree bark.

Powerful scratches filled with bloody chum and crimson liquid, paw like marks painted in the trunk. The source of such gruesome spectacle laid in whatever pieces was left a couple of inches away.  He could make out a tail, and small hind legs. A baby monkey, or rather half of it.

"Uh... We better hurry."

Peter swallowed, and the urgency in his tone only made your worry to shoot heavenwards.

You both walked, speeding up the step. Unaware of the keen eyes, hidden in the bushes that followed your every moves like a hawk. A low growl filled in the space he occupied.

---

You were certainly to die.

Undeniably, and it didn't matter how fast you managed to run, the jaguar quick paced trotting had you pushing your limits. Tears blurred your sight, as a garbled sob escaped your lips.

Scratches adorned your arms, decorating your flesh with fresh oozing wounds, dirt and leafs stuck to your marred flesh.

Chest heaved with deep and ragged pants, wobbly legs menaced to give in under the pressure at any second

You were going to die.

Even though life had been incredibly dull and the only comfort was your investigation, you didn't want it to end so soon. Not whenyou were about to accomplish a promise to yourself.

Peter had gone lost and separated once the chase began. One minute he was before you, and the other, your friend was gone, out of sight and reach. But the relentless giant feline behind you preferred you. An easy prey.

Your wails and cries for help fell upon deaf ears, who would listen to you in the middle of the jungle? For once you wished to have Kraven's gun expertise.

You didn't care if hypocrite defined you right now. You took a thick branch, swinging it with difficulty and pain at the euphoric beast, like a demotivated baseball player. But the jaguar's claws swatted the useless weapon away from your hands, and making you stumble on the ground.

This was it.

Oh God, oh my god, no, no no

The animal pounced and by instinct, you shielded your body with your shaky limbs. But no harm came.

You could feel the beast's warm and bloodthirsty breath on your head, snapping it's maws at you, desperately trying to reach for a bite of your supple flesh.

Eyes wide in horror, and disbelief. The jaguar was held by his tail, earning whoever that was holding it back from devouring you a couple of swings with it's sharp claws. But the animal was set into getting to you. It pounced on your boots, claws sinking on the back of hour ankles, earning a sobbing and painful wail.

A gruesome crack and a roar echoed behind you, and only then you were able to see your savior.

The tallest man you've ever seen, even taller than Kraven, strong and well built physique, a rich tanned skin full of scratches and long healed wounds. Hair long, reaching a bit past his shoulders, muscles that heaved and rippled in every breathing you did. Body hair etched beautifully in his skin.

Covered in nothing but a loincloth.

If it wasn't for you being at the death's gates, you'd take your time to study him.

You gasped as he held the oversized cat with his hands and slammed it on the ground. They circled eachother, shifting between the roles of hunter and prey.

The feline hissed, and the man returned the threat, a cold sweat ran down your spine upon watching two overgrown canines, on his mouth. Fangs. He had fangs. Brown eyes stared at the four legged monster, defying it.

And soon the jaguar took his invitation. The two majestic creatures fought, enraged, proving their prowess to eachother, disputing the role of Alpha within the jungle's hierarchy. They rolled on the ground, biting and clawing at eachother.

With a lurid snap the man cracked the beast's neck, earning an agonizing wail from the mean cat. He staggered before slamming his fist on the animal, forcing the last breaths out of the beast.

His nose flared, proudly, while his hands slammed his chest.

Terror was still taking a hold of you, and there was nothing you could use as a weapon. Your hands braced your shoulder as you tried to carefully stand, but your clumsy feet stepped in a branch, snapping it in half, like the jaguar's neck. Brown eyes were immediately on you.

You swallowed hard.

He approached, hunched and prowling over, his knuckles and toes supported his hulking frame.

"S-Stop!"

He quirked an eyebrow, curious and within seconds he was before you.

Breath hitched on your throat, face so close to yours, he could feel your breath blowing on his chin.

You hissed as he took a hold of your arm, examining the damage. There wasn't rage in his features but nothing more than untampered curiosity.

His hands reached for your hair, sniffing the strands, you couldn't help but giggle when his nose hovered over your head, sniffing you, a bad moment to be ticklish, really.

Breath caught again as his nose nuzzled your neck.

"W-Wai-" His fingers prodded at your lips, rubbing the calloused thumbs on your soft mouth. A satisfied grunt rumbled in his firm and hairy chest

He toyed with your face, examining it with child like wonder. He turned, prodded and licked your cheeks, reminiscing in your taste with a confused look.

"U-uh, sir-"

What is he doing? oh god.

He hunched even closer to rest his ear on your chest. Heart pumping violently inside your ribcage, eyes darted towards the covered mounds, he sank his face in between them, taking a deep inhale. A low growl came from within and your cheeks flared in a deep flush.

Oh shit, shit

His hands cupped your mounds, sending a shiver through your body, but you slapped his hand away. He looked taken aback before baring his teeth to you.

"No!" You covered your chest and backed away, but his nose flared to then grab your head and placed it on his chest a tad forcefully. Warm and plush skin met yours. You gulped again.

Powerful echoes boomed through his chest.

The natural musk of him tickled your senses, his hands roamed your lower back and your alarms flared.

"H-hey, hey!"

He pulled your feet up, sending you tumbling backward, skirt rolling down your thighs, exposing your legs to him.

You tried to cover your skin by gathering your skirt up. His nose again sniffled as your wriggled underneath him. Hands prodding and picking at your toes, earning a clumsy giggle

His touch was like molten lava, it sent a shudder down your spine.

His fingers were having a good feel of your flesh, as if confirming you were real.

With each discovery his interest only grew. He then cupped your face again, smooshing your cheeks together, giving a deliberate lick on your lips.

"T-The polite thing to do is to take me out before that happens!" You mumbled nervously while trying to get yourself free.

His eyes narrowed once more as he lifted up your skirt completely, revealing your panties.

It gave you little to no time to prepare you for his next move. He sunk his face in between your thighs taking a good whiff of your scent, another pleasant growl came from him, by reflex, your hand slapped him. And this made him look at you, confused but clearly upset while holding his cheek.

"No! Stop it!" You warned while gathering your skirt underneath your knees and pointing at him. Cheeks impossibly red

He seemed to understand as he crouched before you. Muscular thighs flexing as he sat, mimicking your actions.

"Uh, uh. No. Don't do that"

"Uh Uh, No. Don't do that"

He repeated with the same authoritarian tone. Voice surprisingly rich and alluring. Your eyes went wide.

"You can speak!"

He repeated like a parrot.

"Can... Can you understand me?"

His brows furrowed then quirked. He was about to come up with a reply when the rustling and your name being called echoed behind the foliage.

"Over here!!!" You shouted, this alarmed the man as he stood, backing up from you with a mistrustful glare.

"Wait! No no! Don't go!" Your hands wriggled, but it was futile.

He left before anyone could see him. Climbing the trees like it was another playground game, until he disappeared out of sight.

None other than Kraven showed up, machete on hand, swinging it the weeds and plants that dared to cross his way.

A shit eating smirk plastered on his face.

"See? I told you, she'd be fine." Kraven patted Peter's shoulder as they kept moving to find a perfect spot for the camp.

Kraven crouched to where the jaguar's body laid and looked at you.

"What happened?"

"I... don't know. I-I panicked. Was running from a snake and I found that there."

Sergei just hummed, as he watched the body, eyes raking the feline's carcass before beckoning two of his men closer.

"Skin him. Don't have this type yet."

Kraven took a deep inhale. Death's stench sparking alive the hunter in him.

"Whatever killed it, needs to be in my personal collection of trophies."

Peter in the meantime cleansed your wounds with water, to then apply some clean bandages on them.

The whole group moved, upwards to the mountains.

"What the heck happened!?" he whispered aggressively

You made sure for Kraven to be within a reasonable distance to speak again.

"You won't believe me if I'd tell you."

Cause in truth, how would you explain a man, taller than Sergei, killed with his bare hands a wild animal and got way too touchy with you but is able to speak?

The road was long. You had time

Peter sensed your discomfort and pressed no further. However, the feeling of being watched never waned. It was the group, against the jungle's secrets.

----

Taglist:

@fayeofthenightingale

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Take Your Boat Card, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Rafe continues to make their Spring Break interesting with his bucket list item.

A/N: This was suggested by the lovely @mellillasstuff, who I love to talk about Drew Starkey with! I hope you like it, Babe. The gif is special for you.

Masterlist

They spent the day in Mykonos, Greece and now, the yacht is drifting to Turkey. Their last Spring break of their lives is coming to an end in a few days and Y/N and Rafe are trying to make the most of it. Rafe sees this trip as the perfect opportunity to fulfill a bucket list item for him. “Come on. Let me take your boat card, Angel,” he begs, walking over to her on the bed. She shakes her head with a giggle, “That isn’t a thing, Rafe. Plus, we literally had sex this morning on this boat, so if it was a thing, then you’ve already taken it.” “It’s not the same. It’s not boat sex unless it is on the top deck and out in the open,” Rafe argues. He jumps into bed with her, making the mattress bounce under both of them. Her hand finds his cheek, “What kind of weird fraternity shit are you making up, Rafe?” He kisses the palm of her hand. “It’s not a weird fraternity thing. It’s… it’s kinda a fantasy of mine. Making love to my angel under the stars in the middle of nowhere with the sound of the waves keeping us company. It’s just you and me.” She, of course, wants to help him achieve his fantasy and it honestly sounds so romantic, but she can’t shake the feeling of being caught by a crewmate.

“Rafe, as nice as that sounds, what if we get caught.”

“Don’t worry, Angel. We are the only ones on the boat. I got the crew to take a boat out to the land for the night. They’ll be back in the morning to take us to our next city. If you really don’t want to do it, then that’s okay but I just thought it would be fun.” 

“I’m a little scared for our safety that no one can take drive the yacht, but I think it would be really fun too. I hope you have a captain’s hat because you are about to take my boat card.”

———

Y/N’s fingers graze the bottom of her dress, taking confident steps up the stairs. “Captain, how much longer until we reach port?” she calls out as innocently as she can. Rafe looks over his shoulder at her with a captain’s hat on his head, “A few more hours, Ms. Y/L/N. Is there something I can help you with?” Her arms swing from in front of her to behind and she walks towards him. “That’s so long… I don’t know how I’m going to fix my problem,” she laments, bringing her hand to play with her hair. 

“Well, what’s your problem? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t know… Captain. It’s kinda an intimate issue.”

“Come on, Angel. You can trust me. I’m the ship’s Captain.” 

Her hands move up his chest, meeting around his neck. She grows impatient with this game and starts to unbutton his white shirt. “You’re restless tonight, Angel,” Rafe chuckles, bringing his hand to rest on her bum. She nods, “Very, something about that hat is doing something to me.” “Wow. Never thought my angel would be turned on by a man in uniform,” he teases. His hand moves up her bum to untie the bow of her dress while she begins peppering his bare chest with kisses. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her back from his skin. They look at each other with a grin. “I can’t keep playing this game anymore, Captain. I just need to feel you,” she mutters. He brings his lips to hers and pulls her dress off of her body, “Me either.” Once the cool ocean breeze meets her skin, Rafe walks her backwards toward the couch. The back of her knee meets the cool leather and she lies down with him on top of her. 

He kisses her on the lips, moving his hand down the valley of her breast to the top of her underwear. He grins to himself when he sees the moon glint off of his Greek letters that have been resting between her boobs since their sophomore year. A finger delicately lifts the fabric and continues its descent until it meets the wetness of her pussy. “Is this all for Captain Rafe, Angel?” She nods her head, itching for him to keep going. “Nuh-uh. Angel, you know I like it when you use words,” he tsks and removes his hand from where she needs it. 

“Captain, please. Touch me,” she begs, grabbing his wrist to bring his touch back. He growls at her words, “Enough of this Captain shit. I want you to be screaming my name to the sea, Angel.” He takes the bill of his hand in his hand and throws it somewhere on the deck without another thought. It’s one of the reasons she doesn’t have a nickname for him. It wasn’t for lack of trying when they first started to date. Rafe is so possessive of her that the thought of her calling him anything other than his name drives him to become the green-eyed monster. He pulls down her underwear and throws it with his hat, getting to work on making her feel good. His head buries between her legs, lapping up the mess he created. “Oh god, Rafe. This feels so good,” she moans at her normal level. Rafe always encouraged her to be as loud as possible, teaching her to not care about the other frat brothers, who might hear her sweet melody.

“Angel, you can be louder. There is no one around,” he reasons. She listens to his words and screams as loud as she can to please him. His mouth works on her clit as his fingers enter her hole. They curl to hit her G-spot and she tugs at his hair to get him to keep going. He quickly moves his fingers in and out of her. With every move of his finger, it brings her closer to her orgasm. Her fingers pull at the root of his hair and that’s how he knows she is about to cum. He pulls his fingers out of her, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Nope. Sorry, Angel. You are coming around my dick tonight,” he informs.

He stands up to pull off his shirt and his hand removes his belt in one fluid motion, which always makes Y/N’s thighs clench together. She sits up to help him take off the rest of his clothes and he lets her. She sinks to her knees in front of him, butt hitting the couch cushion. Her hands begin to pump his length. Saliva pools in her mouth, so she can spit it onto his dick. She slides her hand up and down his dick, listening to his groans. “You are doing so good, Angel,” he praises. His hand finds the back of her head and pushes her onto him. She takes him into her mouth, letting him hit the back of her throat. A hand remains at the base to pump what isn’t going in her mouth. She pulls herself off of him, so she can circle her tongue around his tip. She can taste his pre-cum. He decides he is hard enough for her and brings her back up so she is facing him. He lies her down on the couch again, kissing her lips. The mixture of their juices makes both of them want to moan. 

She watches as he brings a hand down to his cock to bring the tip to her vagina. He enters her inch by inch to let her have time to adjust. He has no more to offer her and waits for her to tell him to begin his thrust. “Please start, Rafe,” she states, bringing her forehead to his. His hips move back so just the tip is still inside of her and then eases them back down to meet the top of her pelvic bone. They normally like their sex fast and hard, but the moment felt right for something slower. He repeats the motion, enjoying the way her arms round his back to mark it up.

She may be his angel, but she has nails like the devil. He can feel the dig of her nails as she drags it down his back in an attempt to bring him closer. Being chest-to-chest with him doesn’t feel like enough to her, so she rounds her legs around his waist and helps meet his thrusts. It feels like the sounds of the skin slapping against each other and their groans echo out to the sea, yet she knows it is all in her head. She brings his hips in faster during his next thrust with her feet. He gets the message and deepens his thrust, feeling the way she begins to cling to him as she does. With her walls squeezing him, he knows he isn’t going to last long. Determined to make her climax first, he brings his hand down to her bud and starts to rub it in a circle. Y/N’s orgasm washes over her with his help. The feeling of her cumming around him causes him to twitch his seeds into her. He continues his gentle thrusts to ride out their high, stilling once they are both done. 

He slips out of her and lies beside her. She turns to face him, bringing his arms over her. He tightens his hold on her and gives her a kiss to the temple. “I don’t think roleplay is for us,” he observes, thinking back to how they didn’t last very long in the charade. She giggles with a nod of her head, “Yeah. I’m too impatient and you are too possessive to let me call you anything else other than your name. But I’m glad you convinced me to do this. I enjoyed giving each other our boat cards.” 

“I hate to have to tell you this, Angel. But I don’t have my boat card.” 

“Wait, if I’m not taking your boat card, does that mean you’ve done this before?”

“I’m from the Outer Banks, Angel. What do you think?

Taglist: @loves0phelia

[servingrobin]

more one piece pls!! angsty fluff pls 🥹 maybe one where reader almost dies and how the boys were literally having a breakdown (or rage fit, whatever fits their character lol) thank you in advance if you do this one 🥹🫶🏽

Sooo not sure what happened here but it seemed to have turned into a nice angsty watching-you-get hurt drabble for my boys.

I think I might turn this into two parts - with the fluff coming out next?

Zoro, luffy, Sanji

Warnings: blood, injury, angst

ZORO

Everything was going well so far, all things considering. A ship had sailed far too close to the sunny, some idiots thinking they could ransack a pirate ship for some quick berry. They’d planked across and immediately started swinging, no pause for even an offer of obedience (not that they would’ve gotten one).

The three boys had made quick work of the majority of them, but the captain and first mate of the boarding crew proved to be more difficult. The captain was a devil fruit user, appearing and disappearing in puffs of mist around the ship, whilst the first mate was simply ferocious with an axe.

Usopp had already been carted down to Chopper with cuts galore and most of the crew were wearing thin as they pushed the two intruders back. You were with Nami and Sanji, hitting out at the first mate with all you had.

Nami was thrown back by a kick to the stomach and landed in a heap by a wall. Sanji cussed out and surged forward landing a flurry of well timed kicks to the man that sent him reeling back over the edge of the boat.

As he fell the first mate took one last shot and threw his axe with vicious accuracy. You didn’t even know what had happened before you looked down to gleaming metal protruding from your waist.

Blood poured and Sanji screamed out, rushing towards you.

“Y/N-san!”

Zoro glanced over at the sound of your name and froze. All he could see was crimson splashing the floor and your face turning white as you fell to the ground.

He let out a great bellow of rage and turned back to the captain, trusting Sanji and Nami to get you to Chopper whilst he dealt with the threat. Zoro’s blood ran cold and his twitching reflexes stilled to icy rage. He was a predator in that moment.

Without a single glance to the others he took out the rival captain in several quick strikes, aiming before the mist had even settled. The man stumbled to the floor, coughing and groaning as he petted at his mauled chest.

Zoro hoisted himself up and over the side of the ship to the first mate who owned the axe. His death would not be so quick. Zoro took one last glance over at you, breathing but deathly pale, and had to tear his eyes away to focus on the thrashing sea, looking for the fool who had hurt you.

SANJI

The group had separated out to explore the new island, everyone heading out in twos or threes with supply lists in hand and a wedge of berry from Nami. You had decided to join your lover in resupplying the pantry and spent a pleasurable afternoon skating from stall to stall in a quaint little market place. You’d both made several trips back to the Sunny and were now on the final run, just as the sun set overhead.

“What a beautiful evening mon amour, almost as enchanting as yourself.” Sanji breathed into the shell of your ear, nose tracing the outline softly.

You giggled and rolled your eyes, stopping to check off the last of your shopping list. You pecked Sanji on the cheek and skipped away to the last few stalls, your laugh echoing behind you.

Sanji stared after you in pure adoration, following at a sedate pace as he inhaled the last of his cigarette.

The sounds of crowds and heavy footfall entered the market square from the east, and both you and Sanji peered up in interest from your position hunched over some nectarines. Several armed guards were flooding the square, chasing after a few masked men carrying sacks.

“Don’t let them escape!” The guard obviously in charge thundered towards the crowd, and both you and Sanji surged forward on autopilot to help.

The first of the masked men barrelled straight through the pair of you, pushing you apart as the crowd thronged in every direction.

“Everyone out of the way!” The guard shouted again, and within seconds shots were being fired from both sides of the square.

Most of the crowd ducked and made a run for it, the masked men joining whilst firing from the hip. Sanji flung a spinning leg out to the nearest one and knocked him out cold.

As the guards realised the chef was helping, they started to lower their weapons and evacuate the square. Both Sanji and the more senior guards made short work of the men, and soon they were bound and chained.

Sanji peered around for you as the commotion dulled, frowning softly as his eyes darted between casualties. Poor things.

It was then he saw you. Blood pooled in an angelic circle around your prostrate form, arms limp by your side as you used your legs to try and push upwards.

Sanji ran towards you tears already pooling.

“MON COEUR.” His shout barely registered in your fleeting minds eye, pained fog taking over.

Sanji dropped to his knees beside you and lifted you from the ground, his suit jacket coming off in one swoop to staunch the dribble of blood from your chest. He cradled you to his chest and ran for his life, finding Chopper the only thing he could think of in that moment.

He screamed at the sky as your head dipped into unconsciousness, rage and anguish heavy in his chest. You were the light of Sanji’s life, his reason for being and most cherished love. He loved all because he loved you and in that moment he felt burning hatred for anyone that dared to step in his way.

Luckily Chopper was not too far out from the Sunny and was able to fix you up fairly quickly, concerned about the blood loss but the wound was straight through and a lucky shot.

When the guards did their rounds the next morning and found their prisoners beaten black and blue, teeth scattered in all directions and more than a few bones broken, well they couldn’t say they were particularly bothered to investigate.

LUFFY

The naval commander held a gun to your throat, pulling taut on your hair to tilt your head back.

“LET HER GO!” Luffy shouted.

He watched you struggle to escape the commander, nails tearing and breaking on the man’s muscular arm. You cried out as he pulled you up higher by the hair.

“Surrender yourself straw hat and I will let her go.” The man’s voice was steady but his twitching hand betrayed his nerves.

You blink at Luffy in a silent plea to not give in, you would never forgive yourself if you stood in the way of his becoming the king of pirates.

With that in mind you stamped as hard as you could on the commanders foot before kicking up between his legs. As he crumbled you aimed an elbow towards his face before rolling out of his way.

Luffy grinned at your movement but it quickly disappeared when a shot thundered out across the space.

You crumpled where you stood, hand flying to the side of your neck. You fell to the ground in a dusty heap with a weak scream, the commander behind you looking all too pleased with himself.

Luffy let out an anguished scream and charged at the man, sending him flying with pistoning fists. He gave him no time to rise before throwing him again and again, the man a bloody pulp within minutes.

The red rage cleared from Luffy’s vision when the man finally stayed down and he rushed to your side, sobbing for you to hold on.

[decembermidnight]

Beskar and Pearls

Summary: Wearing the luxurious gift the Mandalorian gave you while accompanying him on a business trip turns out to be a pleasurable torture.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ MDNI, teasing in public, Dom!Din, sub!reader, possessive!Din, lots of dirty talk, Din being a sexy arrogant asshole, glove kink, masculinity kink, humiliation kink, hair pulling, unprotected rough sex, mentions of exhibitionism kink, multiple orgasms, multiple creampies (wtf is a refractory period), a hint of overstimulation

A/N: the most coherent thoughts I have while ovulating. I have no excuse. This is FILTHYYYY I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!! Also a big thank you to @thefrogdalorian for making sure it's written in decent English and to @saradika-graphics for the perfect divider 💕

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

The Mandalorian has just landed his ship on Nevarro after spending an entire month catching quarries in the outer rim. He has been away most of the time, but he made sure he'd make up for it every time he came back, too proud and stubborn to admit with words that he missed you, but demonstrating it by spoiling you with luxurious gifts and his body.

You look at him in reverential adoration as he dresses in his armour – a blend of his Mandalorian heritage and the many trophies he acquired from his victims, dark red in colour and dented after many close encounters with death.

He's just finished strapping weapons everywhere on his marvellous body when he addresses you.

“Hey. Got this for you. Wear it. We’re going to the market, I have some business to attend to,” Mando says as he hands you a small drawstring pouch he was hiding in his utility belt.

You immediately open it and its content leaves you speechless. It’s the sexiest piece of underwear you’ve ever seen – an expensive-looking black lace thong with just a string of pearls meant to go between your pussy lips.

If he wants you to wear it while in Nevarro, a lawless planet full of dangerous bounty hunters, you will wear it under the shortest skirt you have. The mere thought of his eyes glued to your ass, hoping to get a glimpse of it while being vigilant of other men at the same time, makes your head spin. You let out an aroused sigh and look at him, impassive as always behind the dark visor.

“That should keep you busy,” Mando chuckles and tilts his helmet.

You immediately wear it along with that short, flowy dress that also happens to be his favourite one on you.

“Let me see it,” he says as his hands grab you by the waist. He brings you closer to him and immediately lifts your skirt. He kneels before you and lets out a satisfied hum when he sees the tempting way the pearls disappear into your slit. The Mandalorian lingers there, dark visor trained on that heavenly view as his gloved hands caress your thighs. The sharp contrast between the coarse leather and your delicate, soft skin gives you a thrill of pleasure. You guess – you hope – the trip won’t take long.

His chestplate rises and falls as he struggles to catch his breath and maintain his composure at the sight of your perfect cunt dressed in pearls. It’s incredible to see how something so dainty could turn out to be so perverse and sinful.

“Come on. Let’s go now,” he says as he stands up. Now at his full height, his imposing figure resumes towering over yours. You admire him in awe, taking in the broadness of his body and the way his armour magnificently highlights it.

He offers you his hand to descend the ramp and as soon as you start walking, you understand why he said that it would keep you busy. With every step that you take, the pearls pleasurably rub against your clit. You can feel yourself getting wet already. There's an aroused expression on your face that Mando does not miss.

"Are you enjoying it?" he asks teasingly.

"Yes," you answer and bite your lip.

"Good,” you can hear how pleased he is seeing you like that after you’ve barely taken a few steps out of the ship. You know the thought of you being so aroused in public while having to control yourself is making him hard. You decide to play his game, see where this leads.

Mando is walking right behind you, strutting proudly as he stalks you like a hunter follows its prey. You feel his gaze trained on your butt, so you accentuate the swaying of your hips to get more friction from the pearls and to seduce him even further, hoping to get a reaction from him.

"Shake your ass as much as you want, you're not getting anything until I'm done here. You're only getting this scum to see how pretty you are. I like it," he slaps your ass and chuckles. You bite your lip to muffle a whimper.

"See the way they're looking at you? If they dare even think of touching you, their dead body will touch the ground before they lay one finger on you," he whispers in your ear as he grabs your hand and positions it over his blaster.

"You are mine," he growls in your ear as he wraps his other hand around your waist. He pulls you close, until the flustered, naked skin of your back touches his cold beskar chest plate. A thrill of excitement traverses your whole body and goes straight between your legs.

No one would be so stupid to touch you, not when a Mandalorian is claiming you as his, not when you can feel his erection against your ass. The whole thing is making you light-headed with arousal, so much that you start to shamelessly rub your ass against his cock. His hand tightens its grasp around your waist as your head rolls back to rest on his shoulder. You sigh in his neck and his hand trails up and wraps around your throat.

"Behave now," the Mandalorian growls as you feel his fingers tightening their grasp, trying to restrain himself from giving into lust already.

“I want you,” you whisper in his neck.

“I know,” he replies confidently before releasing you. What an arrogant motherfucker. You want to make him so hard he’ll want to bring you back to the ship and fuck your brains out, putting his desire for you before his stupid pride and his business. You want him to surrender to his carnal instinct.

The more steps you take, the more desperate you become for relief from this agonising, yet pleasurable torture. The pearls are stimulating your clit mercilessly, without ever getting you close to an orgasm. Your cunt spasms and clenches and what's worse is that he knows. Mando has spent so long quietly studying his bounties that he can tell by the irregular way you're breathing that you're struggling with the sensation. You bet he's enjoying every second of it, smirking under the helmet.

Just before entering the market area, he pulls you closer to him one more time, making you gasp.

"Now be quiet. You wouldn't want to fuck up my business. Be a good girl," he whispers softly in your ear as you feel his hand on your lower belly—close, so close to where you want him the most. Maker, he’s rock hard. You can feel it. You can’t think of anything else when his erection is pressing against your ass and his arm is tightly wrapped around your waist. He lets you go and you enter the market area together.

You try to divert your attention on whatever item they’re selling in the stands but it’s mostly weapons and things for bounty hunters that you couldn’t care less about. You can feel your arousal starting to drip down your legs, making your inner thighs slippery. Your swollen clit is pulsing and begging for attention, but Mando has been clear - you’ll get nothing until I'm done here, and you know nothing could make him change your mind, unless you play your cards right.

He grabs a seat in a beat-up wooden booth, his legs spread wide due to the massive erection trapped in his pants. There is an undeniable air of confidence and arrogance to him when he sits like this, looking so imposing and authoritative. You wish you could just drop to your knees and please him in any way he wants.

"Be my good pretty whore and sit here," Mando invites you to sit on his thigh and you immediately comply. You're so damn wet, you can't keep your legs closed.

"Hmm? Sitting here like this with your legs spread open? Do you want everyone to see your pretty cunt? Better let them know to whom this belongs, don't you think?" he coos in your ear with his husky voice. He knows you're both perfectly concealed and no one could see what's going on under that table. He's doing that just to prove a point—that you belong to him.

You nod mindlessly as his hand cups your cunt and stays there, still, without moving.

"Mando. Mando I need–" you whisper in his neck in a trembling voice.

"Oh. I know," he says, pleased when he sees how flustered you're getting. "Not yet," he growls as one of his gloved fingers trails your slit. He stops right before your clit, making you whimper and grip his arm tight in response. You dig your nails in his flightsuit as he feels how unbelievably wet you are.

"Hey. Behave now," he whispers as a Rodian approaches the booth and takes a seat, greeting him with a nod of his head. He immediately hands Mando a puck.

You have no idea what they’re talking about – you can't focus on anything else apart from the way Mando’s gloved hand holds the puck. You look at his fingers with pure lust, thinking of them touching your clit, pumping inside your cunt, the coarse leather caressing your skin. 

You let your hand trail on his inner thigh and he stays surprisingly calm, not flinching one bit as your fingertips slowly slide higher, until they finally meet his cock. He is so unbelievably hard, you feel him throbbing underneath your fingers as you trail them all over his length. The Mandalorian won't betray any emotion, which turns you on even more. He's perfectly calm and collected on the outside, but you bet he'd love to throw you on that table and bury himself in you.

As soon as the Rodian hands Mando a handful of credits as an advance, he leaves.

"Please. Please, I need you," you whisper in his neck.

"I'm not done here. Be patient."

The throbbing need between your legs causes you to ache so badly that you don’t notice another man has approached and taken a seat until he begins speaking with the Mandalorian.

They're speaking in a foreign language, and Mando’s interlocutor does not seem happy. Judging by their tones of voice and gestures, they appear to be negotiating the fee for Mando collecting a certain bounty that the man needs capturing and he is displeased that Mando commands a high price. You’ve learnt over the time you’ve spent with the Mandalorian that there's not much room for negotiation with him. He has leverage since he's regarded as being the best bounty hunter in the outer rim. The way he speaks is so confident, it makes you even wetter how he does not lose composure while the other man is basically yelling at him. 

He starts running his thumb on the string of pearls digging in your slit, feeling how wet you are for him as he keeps talking to his client while you're sitting in his lap, doing nothing but looking pretty. You're his slut and he wants everyone to know it, but you have to act cool even as he teases you under the table. You have to control the way you breathe, you can't let even the smallest whimper out. Why is this so hot? Why is he so hot?

In the end, the man hands him a hefty amount of credits and rises from the table with a huff, muttering and cursing as he goes.

"Please, take me back to the ship and fuck me. I won't ask for anything else, please," you whisper sensually in the crook of his neck.

"I'm not done here," he tries to appear impassive, but as soon as you resume your touching between his legs, he jerks slightly. You smirk, satisfied.

"Mando…" you trace the outline of his cock with your fingers, feeling how hard his erection is while purring in his neck. His pants are thick, but as you stop right at the tip, drawing circles on it with your fingertips, you can feel the fabric getting slightly damp.

“You’re so hard…” you sigh sensually as you keep rubbing his cock. You hear a choked grunt from him, now that he can’t focus on his job anymore, now that he’s at the mercy of your teasing. You’re so tempting, acting so shameless in public, the thrill of someone noticing the two of you drives him insane and you know it. You’re finally getting your revenge. You can bet he's close to losing control. Mando is twitching in his pants, his breathing getting heavier and heavier...

"Fuck it." He grabs you by the arm and you rush out of the market and back to the ship.

The Mandalorian doesn't even wait for the ramp to close behind him to bend you over the first crate he finds, kicking your legs open with his feet and freeing his throbbing erection. His gloved hands run up your skirt and position themselves around your hips, keeping you steady for him as he slams into you all at once. He meets no resistance from your drenched cunt whatsoever, leaving you breathless as you exhale in a loud moan. You're crushed between the crate and his beskar body, pleasurably forced to take his thick cock. You're only able to let out ragged groans and clamp tightly around him as he finally gives it to you just like you wanted.

"You. Fucking whore. Couldn't wait for me to finish my business. Wanted this dick so much, hm? Are you happy now?!" his thrusts are furious and relentless, his hips crushing your body against the crate with a devastating force. The angle at which he's hitting you is deep, so deep that you can't even prop yourself up on your shaky elbows. You're just getting brutally fucked without dignity.

"You get so disobedient when you want this cock. Maybe I should just tie you up and gag you?"

You can't even mumble words, too absorbed by the feeling of his cock thrusting inside of you, so aroused at the idea of him using your body for his pleasure.

"You're so wet. Damn. It must have been such a torture, right? To be so wet and turned on? Hearing you beg like that made me so fucking hard. Feel it. Feel what you do to me," he rasps as he rails you deep and hard.

The way the pearls are rubbing against your clit and the perfect rhythm of his thrusts are driving you close to the edge already.

"Mando, Mando, I'm–" you can barely mumble as you helplessly drag your hands against the crate.

"Yeah. Come. Seems like it's the only thing that will make you obedient. You wanted it so much, you can have as many as you want today."

'Thank you, thank you, tha–" your blissful chant is abruptly cut as the orgasm takes control over your body. Your cunt clenches hard around his thick cock and your legs jerk uncontrollably, barely touching the ground as he keeps you still and never stops drilling into you as you ride your high. The pleasure is so intense, it leaves you breathless as your cunt keeps involuntarily spasming around him in aftershock. You're panting against the metal crate beneath you, overwhelmed and reduced to a trembling, feeble mess, the coldness of it is a relief against the hot, flustered skin of your body that won't stop begging for him.

"Is this what you wanted, hm? For me to stop everything I was doing to come here and take care of you? Needy girl. You desperately wanted attention, hm?"

You can only mumble in assent, feeling the way he takes out his rage on you.

"Bet you would've let me fuck you in a dirty fucking alley if I wanted to."

"Y-yes–" you reply in a breathy groan, drenching yourself at the mere thought.

"What a slut. What if someone heard you screaming like that? What if someone heard how wet this pussy is when I fuck it? Fuck, you're dripping!"

For a man who barely speaks in normal circumstances, he sure does like to run his mouth when he's buried deep inside of you.

"Yeah. I bet you'd like it if someone saw me fucking you like the slut that you are," he pants and you start whimpering and clamping around him at the idea.

"I knew it. You're such a whore. But you are mine, and I won't let anyone hear these pretty moans and see this perfect cunt. They belong to me. To me," he growls.

"Yes – yes. I fuck–ing b-belong to you," you repeat mindlessly.

"Does it get this much to get you this wet? Just a string of pretty pearls? Looking so fucking good. So fucking good. Are you enjoying it?"

"Yes, Mando!"

"Shit, you're so tight. You're making me come," he says in a broken voice. His thrusts get erratic, as does his breathing "This cunt is so perfect, so fucking perfect," he emphasises the very last word before bursting, spilling hot and wet inside of you in a ragged groan, whining at how good it feels. His muscles tense and he gets rigid behind you, his head rolling back in pleasure.

"Oh, fuck! You're so hot. Spill all of your cum inside of me. Like this, yes!" you cry and start touching your clit, so turned on at the sight and feeling of his orgasm.

The sounds he makes as he comes are the hottest ones you have ever heard. The infamous Mandalorian – stoic, imposing and menacing – is getting lost in the overwhelming pleasure you’re offering him. Your drenched, tight pussy is making that dangerous warrior crumble. You’re so aroused, you need more.

"Please, please don't stop fucking me!" you dare asking him.

"I won't," he grunts as he keeps burying his dick deep, so deep inside of you.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Oh, fuck, I need you to fuck me harder, please!" you plead as you feel his cum starting to drip down your hole. "Maker, please!" you say as you start frantically slapping and rubbing your clit as you hear the obscene, sloppy sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of you, of his hips slamming against your ass.

"I won't stop. Fuck, I want more. I can't stop. You drive me fucking insane!" he growls, resembling a wild beast, completely overwhelmed by lust. You feel his cock still pulsing inside of you as you get even wetter.

"Look at this perfect cunt. You're so full of my cum, damn, you can't ever get enough of it, can you? Fucking cum slut. Look what you make me do. Just came inside of you but I can't stop fucking this perfect cunt. You want to drain me. Are you proud of yourself, hm? Making me so fucking hard in public and teasing me like the whore that you are."

"Fuck, yes, I'm your whore. Your slave. I'm so close, please–" you mutter deliriously while your fingers and the pearls are rubbing against your clit in a wet, nasty mess of your fluids and his cum. You come hard around him once again, strangling his spent, sensitive cock in your tight grasp and hear him grunting, his grip on your hips tightens and his whole body jerks, but he really can’t have enough.

"Yeah. Yeah. Come on my fucking cock, whore. Let me feel it." he encourages you, gritting those words between his teeth, fighting his own oversensitivity, so addicted to the way you feel around him.

He doesn't stop fucking you, not even after your orgasm. He keeps railing you relentlessly. You bring your hand to your mouth and suck your fingers, tasting the bitterness of his cum blended with the slightly salty taste of your fluids on your tongue. Its taste is addicting, the scent heady and intoxicating in the best way possible.

"You taste so good, Mando. We taste so good together," you drawl, overwhelmed by pleasure.

"Yeah, I bet we do," he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls it to lift your head up, giving it to you even harder, making your eyes roll back in your head. You are screaming, completely entranced by the way his cock is still pumping hard inside of you.

"So damn loud. You like being fucked like this, hm?"

He hits even harder from this angle, keeping you nice and still for him to use as he pleases. You're so busy screaming that you can't even reply to him.

"Yeah. Scream as loud as you want. Let me hear how much you want it. I like it."

You can feel his cum dripping down your legs with every thrust, hearing the sloppy, squelching sounds your bodies make. Mando can't even restrain himself anymore, he’s moaning and sighing at how much he's enjoying it. Your cunt is spasming around him, turned on at the way he sounds.

"You like it, hm? To reduce me like this?" he says in between thrusts.

The truth is that yes, you do. You love making the Mandalorian falter with your teasing, making him so desperate and boiling with lust, he has to leave business to fuck you hard, so hard that any coherent thought leaves your mind. You love it when you can feel the man under all that beskar, when he makes you feel like the most important and beautiful thing in the galaxy.

"Yeah, you do," he answers himself as he slows his rhythm, slipping out of you completely only to slowly bury himself inside of you to the hilt, enjoying the view and feeling of his cock entering into your cunt dripping with his cum.

You bite your lip to muffle your screams just to hear him moaning and sighing as he feels the welcoming warmth of your cunt.

“Mando. Mando, please,” you beg as you feel your legs impatiently shaking as his shaft rubs that perfect spot inside of you with each thrust.

“What?”

“Harder. Please?” you beg, subjugated by that perfect teasing.

He slams into you so deeply that you feel it pulsing against your cervix.

“What? Like this? Hm?” he says as he starts to jackhammer you.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you chant as you resume touching your clit.

“Greedy whore. Ready for another one? I'm not stopping.”

“Mmmm,” you can only reply as you feel another wave of overwhelming pleasure approaching.

You hear him panting as he gives you a few more violent, deep thrusts, driving you over the edge one more time.

“Yeah. Take it – fucking t-take–” he grunts when he feels your walls clenching around his cock, your orgasm pushing him over the edge, too.

A loud, violent snarl rips through his lips as he comes, filling you with his white, thick load once again. The grip of his hands around your hips turns to steel, your eyes roll up so high all you can see is pitch black as he keeps pumping his cock into you as you both ride your high. The feeling completely obliterates you, turning your body and mind into a helpless, exhausted mess.

A huge, satisfied grin forms on your face as you feel him slowly slip out of you and his cum starts dripping down your cunt and legs.

“Good work," he pants "now be a good girl and wait for me while I go back there. Don’t move one muscle and maybe we will pick up where we left off,” he says as he tucks his spent cock in his cum stained pants, not giving a shit about it, looking at the mess he made of you, disrupted and leaking with his seed. Wrecked, used, marked. His.

[joliettes]

★・⸝⸝﹒₊˚﹕Pirate!Ellie x Nymph!Reader.

i think i like it, i might write a fic for them, they might possibly become my favorite trope.

☆ pirate!ellie whom is an independent pirate traveling all over the sea with her own clan consisting of her close companions and some wannabe pirates, stealing ships and lands like no other. just how her father intended for her to be from the moment he took her under his wing.

☆ pirate!ellie whom had a scary look to her but was a complete loser behind closed doors and the clown whom was also looking like a lunatic.

☆ pirate!ellie who saw you one day showering in the river naked disguised as one of the people of the land and decided she needs to occupy your father's land, it wasn't a big one which made it easier for her to do so.

☆ pirate!ellie told your father that in order for everyone to continue living in the land freely under her rule he needs to give you up, his favourite and most loved child.

☆ pirate!ellie who made history as the first woman pirate to wed a water nymph, as they were known to be hidden from the public’s eye for they harbour many talents and were stereotyped as a good luck charm at times.

☆ pirate!ellie was the one who fell first and hard, from the moment she saw u naked to the moment she saw you sitting in your marital bed looking at her with a look that holds a ton of expectations.

☆ pirate!ellie who begged to accompany her in her trips and of course you said yes on one condition, that you could have your time of the day where you swim with your water nymph siblings.

☆ pirate!ellie is so in love that dina and jesse make fun of her all the time and she doesn’t try to hide how in deep she is.

☆ pirate!ellie who thought she’ll control you and make you her forever toy by wedding u forcibly but she’s the one who became your toy, although you shouldn’t accuse her of that to her face. she might poke you with her dagger…

[demonic0angel]

Celestial Bodies AU (part 3/?)

(Part one, part two, part four, part five. Also on AO3)

Dick took a deep breath before he exhaled. He dialed up the number and was quiet as it rang. When it finally beeped, he greeted, “Hello, Bruce.”

“… Dick.”

“I’m taking Jason for a trip.”

“Okay.” A pause. “Where?”

“To see the cluster.”

He could almost hear Bruce grit his teeth, knowing that he distrusted the little galaxy even more after Dick had made a deal with one of the stars, binding them together. Bruce also especially hated them because even after more than half a decade, he still could not understand the mystery behind the cluster.

But Bruce was apparently desperate to talk to Dick again, since he sucked it up and allowed it. It was Dick and Jason’s first outing, and he seemed oddly happy to let Dick take away his adopted brother into space.

When Jason had heard about it, he was excited.

“Wait, I’m seriously going to space? I get to see the cluster too??”

“Yes,” Dick huffed. “We’re going in a few days.”

“Do I need to wear the uniform? I don’t, right? Isn’t the ship safe?”

“You don’t need to. Nobody but us and people with high authority can come to the station.”

“Sweet!”

Dick chuckled and teased, “You’re so excited.”

“And you aren’t? Well, I guess that energy levels can start dropping when you’re getting old,” Jason said with casual brutality.

Dick gasped. “What! I’m not old!”

“Your age doesn’t have the ‘teen’ in it anymore. Face it, Dickwing, you’re old.”

Dick’s jaw dropped, gobsmacked.

Was it possible to be this sassy at such a young age?! He wasn’t this snarky either when he was this young, right?!

“Y’know what? Let’s cancel the whole thing. I refuse to take this disrespect!”

Jason immediately began whining. “Wait, no! I’m sorry!”

They joked about it, planned some more, and then the day came where Dick drove into the Batcave, ready to pick up his… brother to hang out.

“Ready to go, Little Wing?”

Jason bounced on his heels. “Yep! We’re going to see space, right?”

Dick smiled and nodded. Bruce slinked into the Batcave just as the two of them were climbing into the teleportation tubes.

“B!” Jason called. “We’re going!”

“… okay. Be safe.” Bruce was quiet for a moment, as Dick was inputting the code for the space station that bordered the cluster his star was in. Then he added, “Both of you.”

Dick glanced up, gave a curt nod, and then looked back down again. Jason shifted awkwardly next to him as the silence ensued.

As Dick finished, Jason waved goodbye again and pulled on his elbow for him to do the same. Dick sighed and also waved goodbye.

“Bye, B!” Jason called, before the teleportation started and away they went.

They landed in the dock and Dick immediately checked up on Jason, who stumbled from the unexpected landing.

“How was it? Teleportation is neat, isn’t it?”

"By neat, you mean nauseating?" Jason snarked. He looked vaguely green, but quickly got himself back under control and then bounced back to being all smiles. "We're going to see your star, right?"

"And all of the other stars and planets too," Dick said. "Are you excited?"

"Yep! I can't wait to see what they look like! What are they like? Are they nice?"

Dick smiled at the thought of his star, who had been his sounding board, his (metaphorical) shoulder to cry on, his anchor when he had been adrift after losing his right to become Robin.

"Very nice. You've read the report on them, right?"

Jason nodded seriously. He recited what he remembered, "This star cluster consists of mainly planets and stars that used to be humans before being changed by an unknown entity called "Clockwork". This "Clockwork" person has a relationship or power involving time. The four stars in the middle of the cluster, who anchor it and are the center, consider Clockwork to be their protector and family. The four stars in the middle are royalty, are all related as siblings, and are also dead children."

At the last description, Dick winced and went, "Yeesh, I don't remember that part being said like that in the report."

Jason shrugged. "I’m paraphrasing."

Dick gave a small laugh and shook his head. Jason was surprisingly more fun than he had remembered. Usually, he remembered him being gloomy and bratty, as well as hot-tempered. Dick had not liked him at all, especially because Bruce had been a hypocritical asshole who had fired him for being a child and then turned around just to adopt another one and slap the name Robin on him.

(Sometimes, he wondered why Bruce hadn’t adopted him too.)

Dick was quiet as he led Jason towards the command room.

Once inside, Jason gave a loud gasp as he immediately flew forward to look out the glass.

“Is that—?”

“Yep.” Dick couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. He followed Jason at a more subdued pace and came up to the glass window. “This is the Phantom Cluster. It used to be considered a galaxy, but we discovered that a lot of the other stars and planets around it aren’t sentient, so we don’t consider them a part of the cluster. The star system in the middle pulled them in.”

“Whoa. How many sentient planets do they have?” He tilted his head this way and that in order to see more.

“Hmmm, somewhere around 3 dozen? But only those two talk to us and they’re considered part of the King’s “court”,” Dick said as he pointed towards the two planets that orbited the four cosmic bodies.

Jason stared at them with interest, eyes darting back and forth between all of the astronomical objects in view, the planets, the stars, the star corpses, the asteroids. As he stared in silence, he shivered and Dick took note of that, seeing that it wasn’t something that came from the cold.

He understood it.

These stars were once breathing, living, walking humans like they were. Children, too.

Now they floated in the empty void of space, silent beyond the radio waves they emitted, unfeeling beyond what emotions they had after transformation, existing beyond what was given to them in order to stay “alive”.

Sometimes, it was difficult to think of them as once human, when they were everything but that without the memories.

They gave off such a strong sense of otherness that it was almost frightening.

Jason pointed to the one with clouds covering its surface. “Is that… water vapor clouds?”

Dick grinned. “Yeah. That planet can hold life, but we haven’t touched down yet. It’s considered rude and they get angry.”

Jason smiled. “Cool.”

Dick pointed at his star. “That star is mine.”

“Wow,” Jason breathed in awe and pride swelled in Dick’s chest at the sound of his amazement. He gazed at his brightly glowing star with thinly veiled satisfaction.

Yes, it was a star now.

His star, who was once a black hole, had collapsed on itself on the day that he had shed his Robin identity and tried to find his own independence.

He remembered it so clearly.

——

“Uncle Clark! What do you mean my star is gone?!” Dick shrieked. He pressed his phone against his shoulder for easy movement as he started his car and began to drive desperately back to the Batcave, where the teleportation tube there would be able to take him straight to the station that watched over that strange, little galaxy.

He felt tears in his eyes as he drove like a madman past traffic and honking cars.

Only a few days ago, he had basically been fired from his lifelong job and passion after getting injured from fighting the Joker and he had only left the Manor today, and now he had to crawl back because his star was dying.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Why wasn’t anything going right?

It was just too much. Dick scrubbed the tears from his eyes and continued to bark on the phone, “Superman! What is happening?!”

“I don’t know,” Superman said. “Your star just stopped spinning a few days ago, and at first, I didn’t think it was a big deal because the rest of the cluster was still singing. But today, it started… shrinking.”

“Shrinking?! Tell me what’s going on!” His stomach felt like it was going through a wringer. He was almost sick with worry and exhaustion.

He had no one else now. Alfred was with Bruce, and Bruce had abandoned him. He couldn’t depend on other heroes like some charity case, and all he had left was his star…

Please… please let it be nothing.

“I don’t know. It’s shrinking and it’s stopped sucking in gas and matter a while ago too. This happened at least a week ago.”

Could nothing go right?!

Dick smacked the steering wheel of his car in rage, making it honk and the car in front of him to surge forward.

He raced back to the Manor and through the secret entrance to the Batcave. When Bruce came down to see what was happening, Dick had already gone through the teleportation tube and stuck a sticky note on the computer to tell him what was going on before he left.

For a moment, he thought Bruce could chase him, but he didn’t. Dick was left alone as he teleported to the space station.

When he landed on flat ground, he immediately took off towards the command room, where Superman was floating and staring out the window with confusion.

“Robin!” Superman called, and then he winced.

Dick felt his stomach twist into knots from the shame as he realized that his favorite superhero knew he was fired.

“You know,” he said tonelessly.

Superman grimaced and nodded. “I’m sorry. Batman shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yes. He shouldn’t have.”

Superman rubbed the back of his neck and then he gestured to the window, “There’s your black hole. I’m not sure why, but he started changing a week or two ago. I think it was around the time you got… uh, benched.”

It was both endearing and infuriating how Superman sugarcoated things to avoid hurting him.

It made Dick feel even more ashamed as he grit his teeth and realized that his star was being punished for his actions.

Dick laid his eyes on the cluster outside the window and felt his heart break. Like him, his star looked weak and small. Like it was stripped of its layers (his role, his mother’s nickname for him, his last piece of his family), it looked dull and small. It didn’t move as much as before either.

“My star?” Dick asked, his voice cracking as he came closer to the glass.

His star did not respond, still and silent. The song of the stars was quieter than usual too. It sounded sad and sorrowful, filled with melancholy and loss.

Dick felt tears in his eyes again.

Fuck. He hadn’t wanted to cry.

It was just inevitable. He and his star were connected in more ways than one. The two of them were bonded, two halves of a whole, two parts of a relationship, like milk and cereal, and peanut butter and jelly.

Okay, actually, he was just being melodramatic.

But the truth remained: Dick loved his star. He loved his star like he loved Bruce, like he loved Kory, like he loved his parents, like he loved Alfred, like he loved Barbara. His star was his family and he hated just how the both of them looked weary and worn out in this moment.

He remembered his childhood, where he would slip onto the manor’s roof and talk to his star, who would glitter and sparkle in the smoky sky of Gotham. He had loved it, had loved how he could see his star in the night sky, and how he responded back in the ways only a star could.

It sucked that his condition reflected back on his star.

It was unfair how Dick’s suffering and unhappiness appeared on his star too.

“R—… Dick, are you alright?”

Dick wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I’ll be fine. Can I… Can I stay here for a little while? Just a couple of days.”

Superman looked sympathetic and it killed Dick inside to see the pity on his face.

“Of course. Whatever you need. There’s more than enough food and water in the station…. Do you want me to talk to Bruce?”

“No.” His voice came back sharp. Superman winced and Dick wanted to feel apologetic, but he couldn’t help but be angry at the thought of his foster father.

“No need. I’ll be okay here, thanks.”

Superman then nodded slowly and left, leaving Dick alone in the command room.

His black hole hummed in the background, spinning slowly. Its dark light shone on him as it spun, but Dick could only feel cold.

That was to be expected when in a room across from three dead stars and a baby star, but the cold was inside of Dick as well, penetrating his bones and making his stomach feel like lead.

He felt sick. And tired. And exhausted. And pissed as hell.

He stayed in that command room for days. Sometimes, he just sat there and watched the stars move, as his black hole turned dimmer and dimmer until its event horizon could barely be seen.

Was it dying?

Robin was now gone, so did that mean that his star would be gone too?

The King quietly reassured him that it was not true, but Dick worried regardless.

When he wasn’t looking out the window in a daze, he was researching about job offers and career paths. He was still barely in school, and he needed to look onward after being kicked out of being Robin.

Occasionally, Superman would come by and talk to him.

“So what are you planning to do?” He asked one day.

Dick had been writing down a list of ideas for his future and he looked up then. “I… I’m not entirely sure.”

“That’s okay,” Superman reassured him. “You’ll find your path one day. And I know you’ll be great at it. You were always shining brightly, just like a star, I trust that you’ll find your way again.”

He grinned then and Dick returned the look.

“… I want to be a hero again.”

Superman hummed. “Well… not a bad idea. Are you sure? You know the danger of it.”

“I know,” Dick said, determined. “That’s why I want to continue doing what I love. Being a hero helped me in more ways than one. It helped me and it helped others. I want to continue doing good.”

Was it just him or was his star shining brighter?

Dick was distracted by Superman’s next words.

“I see. What are your plans? Are you going to go back to Batman?”

“I think… I think I’m going to go to Bludhaven. I’m going to become my own hero.” He smiled, as the plan solidified in his mind. He was already 18, he could transfer his college credits to another university and finish his education. He would find a job, an apartment of his own, he would finally be independent!

He didn’t need Batman. He was his partner, but if Batman wanted to treat him like a kid, then Dick would show him that he wasn’t. He was smarter, stronger, wiser, and braver than Bruce realized.

He didn’t need him. (Even if it hurt.)

The singing grew louder, then. Just barely noticeable, like the stars were excited but wanted to be quiet so the surprise wouldn’t be let out.

Superman smiled. “That sounds like a great plan. What do you think you’re going to be called?”

He had thought about growing out of Robin before, but since he was forced out of his role like cutting off a child from their mother’s milk, he had thought about it extensively since then.

He gazed at Superman, thinking of the legends he used to tell him when he was young.

“… I think… I want to be named Nightwing.”

Just as his words came out of his mouth, there was a loud bang that echoed from space, and then an explosion that rocked the ship. Metal screeched from the movement and everything turned white. Superman immediately flew at him, covering him with his own body as the spacecraft rocked and creaked ominously from the explosion. Dick was pressed against the floor and his eyes clenched shut as he unconsciously covered his ears from the loud impact of whatever exploded outside his window.

Once the heat dissipated and the ringing of his ears stopped, Dick realized what had happened.

Dick cried out, “No!” and pushed Superman off of him as he stared out the window.

But it wasn’t what he had expected.

He had expected to see devastation, planets blown apart, stars torn in two, nebula clouds drifting from stars going supernova, black holes gone with evaporation.

Instead, he saw a new star.

His black hole had disappeared and in its place, was a bright glowing blue star, hot and enormous, second to no one but his sister, the quasar. His star cooed once, “My Nightwing,” suddenly making everything connect within his mind.

Dick’s jaw dropped as then song burst from the radio.

And in it, something new.

Before, the singing had sounded like that of a group of children from a church choir. It was haunting and beautiful, but light and delicate. It was a song of loneliness and melancholy sung by a group of children who were cursed to become astronomical objects and be alone with only each other in the sky.

But now, there was a new voice.

No, it wasn’t new.

It had grown up.

His star had a distinctly bass and masculine voice, one of a grown man with a deep, almost velvety quality to it. Surprisingly, it melded well with the other voices and they all sang with the sound of new hope and new beginnings, a sign of the new times and change.

Tears came to Dick’s eyes again. It poured down his cheeks and he couldn’t help but smile and laugh as his entire body unclenched from the relief.

Of course.

How had he not realized?

His star wasn’t dying. It was growing up too. The stars had mentioned rebirth before, having been turned from stars into planets into stars again and then into black holes or neutron stars or more protostars.

Dick had been growing up with his star. His star was a child when they made a deal, just like him, and the two of them had grown up together. With the curse, it was the only way his star could find any semblance of becoming himself again. Now that Dick had shed his childish identity as Batman’s partner of Robin into a newer role, his star would also do the same.

“Dick?” Superman asked hesitantly. “Are you alright?”

Dick gave him a wobbly smile that probably didn’t reassure him by the worried look on his face. “Yeah. I’m just fine.”

With his star by his side, Dick would enter a new chapter of his life. He wouldn’t hesitate any longer.

He had finally grown out of the nest, ready to take flight with new wings. Now all he had to do was jump and spread them for a new journey.

——

“Uhhh… what’s that black hole doing?”

Dick snapped out of his thoughts at Jason’s words and looked up. Outside the window, while his star was still alongside his siblings, the quasar was spinning rapidly, flares bursting outwards and lights sparking from the collision of dust and gas.

“… no clue.” She kind of looked like she was showing off.

The singing on the radio grew louder.

They both watched as the quasar continued its little show as the communicator crackled noisily.

The radio hummed, the song slowing down to a halt before then it spoke.

“Hello,” a thousand voices echoed.

Dick pulled his gaze away from the window to look at the monitor.

The chatter of the stars grew more excited as the quasar continued to spin crazily. The King was at the forefront of the speaking stars, who said, “How do you do?”

“… we’re well, thank you for asking.”

Another voice quickly interrupted the neutron star, calling sweetly, “Robin.”

Dick froze, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. It was all too familiar of a scene. A scene that had occurred to him only 7 years ago.

Jason looked at Dick for answers, but when he was too dumbfounded to speak, Jason answered quietly, “Yes?”

“… do you want to help me?”

Dick and Jason stared at each other.

“Should I?” Jason asked him and Dick hesitated.

He had never felt like being the human host for a star was a burden. In fact, it held no repercussions for him, since all he had to do was grow and live and his star would follow. Frankly, it was almost a completely one-sided deal since Dick got all of the rewards.

His mouth felt dry. When they had mentioned Robins before, was it a sign that if Batman had more children and more Robins, they would all become a host for his galaxy?

“…. It’s your choice, Little Wing.”

Jason nodded slowly, and asked, “Who are you?”

“In front of you,” the voice called and the quasar gave a small spin with a burst of light from her accretion disk. Her jet pulsed and Jason oohed at the sight of it.

“Dick, who’s that one again?”

“That’s the quasar,” Dick said. “She’s the big sister of the cluster.”

Jason smiled, silent for a moment as he watched the quasar move before he answered her, “How can I help you?”

“Make a deal with me.”

“What do I get out of it?” Jason asked, as Dick put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

“I’ll watch over you. Protect you when I can… I’ll be yours.”

Jason smiled toothily. “But I don’t wanna be owned by something.”

There was sudden silence, only the crackling of static and the same sound of ocean waves filling the air. Dick eyed Jason with wide eyes, trying to telepathically sending him question marks for his vague refusal when there was seriously no downside.

Then finally, “You won’t be owned by me.” The quasar sounded hesitant and a little sullen, almost offended.

Jason tilted his head. “Okay. Then I’ll make a deal with you. You don’t own me, but we’ll belong to each other, ‘kay?”

There was silence again as the quasar thought about it. Then, sounding more pleased and extremely adoring, the answer came out in a quiet hushed and awed, “Okay.”

The quasar seemed shocked by Jason’s handling of the situation, who dared to even negotiate the terms of what they were to each other. Dick watched, slightly impressed as the quasar seemed even more endeared than before.

Jason said, “Deal!” before he put his hand on the glass and several flares came from the quasar.

Gas and dust rubbed against each other in an impressive show of lights and fireworks before one of the flares popped and then a piercing light came rushing towards them. Dick gripped Jason’s shoulder tighter before the light burst through the window and then into Jason’s hand, up his arm, and then his cheek before it then settled.

Jason gasped, bending over slightly as his hand came up to cradle his face as Dick rushed to catch him.

“Little Wing! Are you okay? Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think it’d be this bad! It wasn’t the last time!”

“I’m okay, Dickwing! Seriously!” Jason batted away his hand and then looked up at his reflection through the glass. “Whoa.”

On the left side of his face, below his eye and on his cheekbones, lines began to appear with bright bursts of black, bloody orange, and a turquoise blue. The same four pointed star as Dick’s appeared, its lines long and pointed. As the ink began to settle, Jason smiled, satisfied as he stroked the newly formed tattoo before he called out into the communicator, “Thanks!”

The stars were all celebrating around the quasar, a more cheerful and happy tune as they sang and spun.

“No, thank you, my dear Robin,” the quasar responded happily through the singing and cheering.

Jason beamed. Dick, however, frowned, as he reached down to press a thumb against the tattoo and said, “Isn’t the mark too obvious?”

“Didn’t you say that you could hide it before? You just have to teach me!” Jason said, with a raised eyebrow, as if daring him to refuse. However, the smile on his face wouldn’t die, and he looked overjoyed.

Noticing Dick gazing at him, Jason grinned.

Huh, how had he not noticed that Jason had dimples?

“Thanks for bringing me here, Dickwing!” Jason said with a wide grin. “I can’t believe I have my own star!”

Dick couldn’t help but smile too, and said, “No problem. Take care of her well.”

“I will! I definitely will!”

As Dick looked up out the window and observed his own star, who was spinning happily in circles around his newly bonded sister, he couldn’t help but marvel at the turn of events.

Who knew that this Robin would also acquire the protection of a star?

Man, Bruce was going to freak.

|||||||||||||||||||

BRUCE. I WANTED YOU TO BE A GOOD FATHER. WHY IS IT THAT EVERY TIME I RESEARCH CANON EVENTS, YOU’RE ALWAYS FUCKING THINGS UP. YOU’RE RUINING MY WHOLESOME SPACE THEMED SERIES, BRUCE.

Why did this turn into a coming-of-age story lmaooo but I’m lowkey happy with it tho

The distinction between “you not owning me, but I’m yours” is important (kinda). It’s more of a “we belong to each other” rather than Dick and Dan’s “you’re mine” thing going on. Also, yes, the placement of the tattoos is on purpose. I switch between it/he pronouns for Dan (and the other celestial objects) bc it’s just easier and I feel like sometimes, it’s needed to show that they are not human.

Also, as per everyone’s request, there will be no shipping involved :) there will be a bit of qpr and codependency, but I love those, so it would’ve been included anyways.

Dan has completed his transformation from a black hole into a blue giant! Blue giants are very hot, big, and rather short-lived because they burn out quickly. Specifically, Dan is a giant star with a spectral class of B0Ib and a magnitude of -0.02 (which means he’s one of the bigger giant stars, his color is blue, and he is somewhat able to be seen from Earth).

Irl, it’s pretty inaccurate to real stars and black holes, bc black holes cannot collapse on itself (it’s literally a collapsed star, it cannot collapse further) and usually will only evaporate and disappear through Hawking radiation (which takes so long that all stars and star corpses will disappear before black holes will be gone). However, stars can recycle old material from dead stars to grow and that’s what happens here. Clockwork comes by every once in a while to check up on his babies and dump some nebula into the galaxy before he disappears again.

The other stars’ new identities will be revealed soon and I’ll also explore Sam and Tucker’s planet statuses as the series continues. Thank you for reading!

Next up, a certain Robin suffers 😈 (not clickbait).

[katerinaaqu]

The Humanity of Odysseus and the Importance of the Curse of Polyphemus (an Odyssey Analysis on Fate and Destiny)

I believe there is one thig that needs to be said about the Odyssey and Odysseus in particular and something I have rarely seen properly adapted. It is the importance of the unchangable fate in antiquity in general and homeric poems in particular. One can say this starts from the character itself; Odysseus name meaning "Anger Bringer" or "Furious" is an indicator that not only the character will be dusliked by many but that he would also cause anger which one can expect would lead to terrible consequences. However I believe the moment Odysseus was truly deprived of all his choices was the infamous Curse of Polyphemus:

In Rhapsody/Book 9 of the Odyssey, Odysseus describes his misadventure with the cyclops Polyphemus and when he revealed himself to him, Polyphemus prays to his father, Poseidon, giving Odysseus a double-curse (as it happens to most predictions that have at least two ways they can go) which goes like this:

"I call upon you, Poseidon, Earth-bearer with cyan/black/dark hair, if I am your son and you wish to be my father (you wish to be called my father), do it for me so that Odysseus the Sacker of Cities will never reach his home, the son of Laertes who calls Ithaca his home, but if fate calls for him to see his friends and reach his well-built home and his ancestral land, make it so it will be terrible (here return), that he will lose all his companions and in a foreign ship and find misery waiting for him at his home!"

(Translation by me)

So as you can see the curse has two different outcomes

He will never see his home again

If he does, it will be without his companions brought by a foreign ship and he will find misery at his own home when he arrives

At this point, given that the story is "in media res" aka "told from the middle", we know now that the second part is fulfilled, or almost fulfilled. Odysseus is in Scheria, he is alone, he is shipwrecked, there is no sign of any of his companions anywhere so we expect him to return at this foreign ship, aka a Phaeacaean ship to his home at any moment. However by the moment the curse is placed, Odysseus doesn't know which outcome is to befall upon him. And while the second part is weirdly specific (and in a way preparing us for the outcome) the first one is not nearly speficic enough!

Make it so he never sees his land again.

This could mean anything; does he get killed in the ardous trip? Does he get straddled to a place for the rest of his life? Does he somehow lose his...memory and never return home again (similarly to how his men ate the Lotuses at the Lotophagi land)? What is more, nowhere in this part does it say his comrades will survive the ordeal. Although the curse means specifically for Odysseus not reaching his home and one could assume his men would but not Odysseus, that is not guaranteed.

Both of these scenarios are terribly gloom for both Odysseus and his men. So what does Odysseus do? He does what every human being would have done;

He tries to change fate!

He tries constantly to lift the curse:

Even if he knows deep down is pointless, even if he more or less has realized they are off for an arduous trip that will cost them probably all of them their lives, Odysseus STILL TRIES to change the fate! He sails off to find help. He goes to Aiolus and asks for help. He gets the bag. At this point Odysseus is at the end of his wits. He has a chance, he thinks, to change fate, to change the curse. He remains awake for 9 days to make sure he will (see also my other analysis in regards to that) and yet it is all in vain. His men open the bag JUST A LITTLE BEFORE they reach Ithaca and pushed back.

At this point it becomes all the more clear that they are up for an endless journey or a settlement away from home at best case scenario and all to die at worst case scenario. Odysseus doesn't give up! He asks AGAIN, this time he is denied.

And then comes destruction...

They reach the idland of the giant Laistrygonians and here Odysseus suffers the worst loss he has suffered so far; he loses 11 out of his 12 ships in a single raid and barely manages to escape with the rest of his comrades resting on his ship. Right now is clearer than ever that the curse is taking place so the real question is; which of the parts shall it be fulfulled? And they reach the land of Circe. Plenty of his men turn into pigs. Eurylochus barely escapes doom and runs at him to tell him "LEAVE THEM AND GO". Odysseus knows in his bones they are doomed! He knows he either leaves them and fulfulles the second prophecy (for his men already perish little by little) or either way the first part of the prophecy is fulfilled. What does Odysseus do?

He tries AGAIN!

He sells himself to Circe, he requests his men's freedom. He ASKS Circe for advice, he descends the Underworld, asks Tiresias for a course; how he can reach his home, how he can save his men, how he can REVERSE THE CURSE. Even if he knows it is impossible to challenge fate (not even Zeus could transcend fate). In a way he comits a form of hubris hoping to change fate. And yet he is HUMAN! He cannot accept that his men would die that he cannot go home. He wants to TRY! So sure enough he gets a possible way out...

Tiresias gives him hope...

The prophet tells him he can save his men AND reach Ithaca IF they do not eat the cattle of Helios Hyperion. What is more Circe gives him advice for the trip; the course they can follow, the steps they can take and again the warning of NOT eating the cattle of Helios. Odysseus takes heart to those, he DESPERATELY GRABS on them! He thinks he has a chance. Maybe...JUST MAYBE he can reverse this terrible curse! He can MAKE IT RIGHT! He has a chance to change fate! He has a chance to reverse it!

Self-Fulfilled Prophecy

Little does he know though that the trip is already set for failiure. Skylla claims 6 of his best men (his men CONTINUE TO PERISH) and yet Odysseus thinks that this is a sign that he can make it, that the terrible sacrifices will pay off and that he is on his way to break the curse. He is following the instructions therefore it must go well. And come the Cattle Of Helios Hyperion.

An attempt to dodge fate...

Odysseus tells to his men that they should not stop at the island now. He is not ready to take another risk. He will not do the same as the sack of Aiolus. He wants to AVOID THE ISLE ALTOGETHER. If his men are not tepted, they will not break. He intends to keep going and it could have worked...but...

Sure enough his men are tired they need to stop

Odysseus has no choice. At this point he probably realizes there is no way to change fate. He sees it now that everything is up for destruction and he still doesn't know WHICH VERSION will be fulfulled! And even if every part of his brain tells him everything is lost Odysseus REFUSES TO GIVE UP! No, this cannot be the end! There must still be time and space to reverse it!

He makes them promise

Odysseus makes his men swear to everything sacred that no matter what they shall not touch the cattle. That they would survive only with the provisions given by Circe, that they will not be tempted no matter what. Sure enough he extracts the promise from them but of course the prophecy is now moving. Wind is opposite. There is no way they can go. They get straddled for WEEKS. Food is over. Odysseus sees the path is for destruction and yet...

HE TRIES AGAIN!

He goes to the island to pray! There MUST be another way! The gods can hear him...maybe pity him and release them from this! And yet he falls asleep from fatigue, stress and godly intervention. Now the clock is ticking! His men cannot withstand hunger anymore and slay the cattle. Now their fate is shielded. We now know they will die. We know also which part of the prophecy will be fulfulled; Odysseus will come home ALONE, just like we see him narrating alone (even if we might as well wonder whether Odysseus would remain in Scheria, it is pretty much settled that Odysseus returns to Ithaca). However Odysseus doesn't know...but what he fears the most has happened

One last desperate attempt.

Odysseus is human above all. He sees the slain animals, he KNOWS his men will die and even that time he REFUSES to accept it! He REFUSES to give up! He sets sail again, hoping to save them, to save them all (himself included) as they roam for 7 days in the sea

And doom strikes...

His men all perish, his ship is gone! Odysseus is left alone in the sea, fighting for 10 days to the brief of death. Right now Odysseus is no longer struggling to change fate...he is no longer struggling to save anyone but himself...he is struggling

...SO THAT AT LEAST THE FATE IN STORE FOR HIM IS HIS RETURN...

He now has suffered the ultimate loss. He needs to at least make it home! Even if that means without companions, even if that means to be home in misery...he just HAS TO GO HOME! He cannot just perish in the sea or be forever straddled outside Ithaca! And then Calypso happens. Odysseus is left in her isle for 7 years.

He now fears he will never see his home again

He cries every day on the beach. His rape every night is strong enough reason for him to do so but also the fact that he now FEARS that the first section of the prophecy is fullfilled; that he is never to see his home and friends and family again. That his fate was not to perish in the sea but to be forever held against his will away from his beloved home and family. And he is filled with despair. When he has lost all hope that he will ever roam about the sea again; with at least SOME HOPE that the second part of the curse would be fulfilled, he is ready to throw himself in the sea; give an end to his life since there is no point in hoping anymore. The worst scenario has happened for him. He has nothing else to expect...

And it is so...till Hermes brings the order to release him. Now Odysseus finds hope anew that he will return. And he struggles with all his might to survive! Even if he is days out in the sea in a small raft. Even when his raft is destroyed and he has to literally swim to Scheria. his mind goes "NO! I WILL NOT PERISH! I WILL GO HOME!" and sure enough he does and he does meet his friends again and he does find this misery at his home and yet now Odysseus can endure this misery, because he knows he managed to get home and he knows that he has left but ONE TASK according to Tiresias.

He tried to beat fate and he failed...but now he has hope...

So as you see, and forgive me for the long analysis, Odysseus is more human than anyone can imagine and always relatable character. Despite his flaws and mistakes one of the noblest mistakes he made was to think he could change fate and dedicate a large part of his trip trying to do just that; change the curse and save his companions which only ends up to a self-fulfilled prophecy but I doubt anyone can deny that we would all have done the same. I doubt any of us would just abandon all hope and sit tight waiting for the prophecy to be filled either way. He would all have tried to change such a grim outcome!

Because we are human. And so was Odysseus.

[probablyspooky]

Strength (Feral Predator x Fem! Reader)

Story based on this post I made

I'm going crazy

Trigger warning : Abuse, swearing, nsfw, white men

Pain, all you knew was pain, this was the main feeling you had in your life, and it didn't matter if you wanted to stop it, you couldn't, this is a life you were born into. A life of servitude, you were born in the servants quarters of a wealthy hunter, your mother was beaten for even dare having a child when she didn't even own the bed she slept upon, your master was so kind to let you grow up into adulthood, so gracious to let you eat his food.

Despite this, life was still not easy, you often went without food, often beaten for simple mistakes such as spilling water. Despite this your master often talked to his fellow hunter men about how kind he was for letting you grow up under his wing, and considering this, he allowed you to go to America with him on a hunting trip. (I think in 1719 it was called the new world, but I'm not 100% sure, I'm a pastry chef not a historian, don't come for my neck).

And just like that you were shipped away on a large ship, away from everything you've ever known, saying goodbye to the fellow maids who took care of you, and saying goodbye to your mother, who as distraught at the fact her only child was possibly never going to return home.

The first couple weeks were filled with awful waves, sea sickness, and insanity. Those who could not handle the sea were thrown overboard, this was the life of a servant, you were property, not your own person.

Landing in the New World was a sight to behold, trees as thick as a sailors beard, plants you have never seen before, it was all wonderful, but you weren't there to sight see, you were there to carry backs and weapons as you continued your travels deeper into the lands. For weeks your feet ached, walking across the harsh ground with shoes that barely covered the bottom of your feet, often being dehydrated, often fainting from hunger. Your master would have ended you then and there, but he was running low on servants to carry his items, you guys eventually settling in the Great Plains, as the bison were plentiful, and their pelts would turn a pretty penny back home.

You were told to set up the campsite for your master, and that you did, taking the long sticks and forcing them into the ground, setting up the tarp covering, and then his bed, the rest were in trunks, you simply placed them around like furniture. By the time you were done it was night time, your mastered returned, stroking his disgusting beard, he struck you across the face with the back of his hand.

"You putrid thing! You haven't cooked dinner yet have you?", he shouted, stomping over to his bed.

The strike had landed you in the dirt, quickly getting on your knees you looked down at your dirty skirt, not looking up at him, a sign of submission.

"Stupid woman...." he grumbled, taking a sip from the tankard in his hand, the clear smell of ale tainting his breath, the man was clearly drunk.

Suddenly, his eye lit up, and he rose, grabbing you by the collar, and dragged you into the center of the camp, where all the other hunters were cheering, having a grand old time drinking.

"Hey boys!", he shouted, "I have an idea..."

You struggled against the rope tied around your neck, the rough fibers rubbed against your skin, the burning sensation forming from your struggles, tears stinging your eyes as your master tied the other end of the rope to a ram.

The sounds of the sickening laughter coming from these drunk bastards, sending the shiver of fear and dread throughout your body as your master slapped the rams behind, causing it to bleat out in fear and run into the woods. You looked in horror as the slack of the rope began to drag away, like a sickening timer to your doom, soon the rope stiffened in the air, and there you went. Dirt and debris from you trying to grab onto anything with a free hand, as your other hand held on to the rope, trying not to suffocate yourself as the ram kept going, the burns on your neck growing deeper and deeper, you kept screaming out for help, hoping anyone or anything would come to your rescue, it seemed like the ram had infinite stamina, the end was no where in sight.

You soon had a dark thought, and felt your grip on the rope loosening, hoping for a quick death, but as soon as the rope tightened around your neck, the rope snapped, stopping the dragging of your body.

Quickly sitting up, trying to catch your breath, drool falling out of your mouth as you looked at the ground, your eyes red from crying, feeling the uninterrupted courses of air purify your body, you looked at the rope, trying to see why it had snapped. Your eyes grazed over the rope on the forest floor, seeing it go on and on, following the rope to its end you saw a some sort of circular knife, if you could call it that, it was much too large for your hands, and it was very heavy, the metals it was made of wasn't anything you had seen before. Trying to pick it up was in vain, as it was not budging from its spot.

Your fingers grazed over the blades, thinking, while your other hand felt the rope against your neck, leaning down you used the sharp blade to snap the rope from your neck, cutting your neck in the process.

Once the rope was off of your neck, you felt the sensitive red spot that now circled your entire neck, surely to leave an awful scar, a memory of these awful events that have transpired today.

The crack of thunder, and the soft droplets of rain that fell through the leaves snapped you out of your thoughts, as you began to scurry to find shelter, you defiantly did not wish to go back to camp, you'd rather die out here than return to that man.

You walked as far as your sore feet could take you, eventually you looked up to see a cave at the side of a mountain, it looked a bit out of the way, so hopefully no predators would be inside

Climbing the harsh rocks to reach the opening, your hands were sore, your legs were about to give out from under you. The feeling of pouring rain seemed to drag you down, but you pushed through it all, reaching the cave, you found yourself protected from the rain, falling into the cave, as a crack of lightning illuminated the cave, you swore you saw something.

Standing on your unsteady feet, you wandered deeper into the cave, tripping and falling into some sort of pit in the ground, it wasn't deep, it was soft, as if lined with blankets, you felt it with your hands, the feeling of tiredness overtaking you, you laid your head into the soft plush ground, your eyes growing heavy, and you drifted off into sleep.

At the entrance of the cave, a beast who stood on his feet like man, glistening in the rain, as his alien camouflage device was unable to function in the rain, the red ripples of it giving up shown through the rain, eventually turning off as he entered his den.

Taking a large step into the den he called his own on this trip, he sniffed the air, something was present. Using his helmet of bone, he scanned the area, looking down at his nest of furs and pelts, seeing your small sleeping frame, he knelt down, pulling his blade out, the same style of blade that had cut your rope earlier, but all its blades were contained within the small metal circle, the clicks of his mandibles echoed off the walls of the cave, shaking his hand the blades swooshed out, and he raised it up as it to slit your throat, but he stopped.

Returning the blades to its holder, and placed the weapon back to his belt, taking his large finger, he grazed the rope burn that was evident on your neck. Tilting his head while you slept, he stood back up, leaving you in his nest, he sat at the entrance of his cave, waiting for the rain to stop.

As the morning sunlight shined through the fresh dew drops of the last nights rain, the warmth of the sun warmed your skin, as you rose up out of what you thought was a pit, the light now showed to you it was in fact a nest of pelts and furs, and now with the sun illuminating the whole cave, your eyes gazed around.

The cave was decorated in the skulls of many animals, a small fire, and in the corner sat rotting meat, the unfavorable scraps of the animals that had been hunted before. Your eyes continued to wander, they landed on a pile of large weapons, fear began to take over your body once more, thinking you had entered another hunters home you stood up to leave, looking towards the entrance of the cave, you saw it.

It stood over 7 feet tall, it's skin tanned red, speckled with spots, thin strands of its dreads spilled out the back of its head, cascading down its back, it's face covered with some sort of mask, it seemed to be made of bone.

Freezing in your place you stared at it, upon closer inspecting, it wore a loin cloth, you assumed it to be a male whatever it was, and watching the slow breaths from his chest, you assumed him to be asleep.

Slowly you began to creep out of the cave, trying not to wake up the beast, you tip toed through the rocks, safety looking so close, until you heard a low rumble, a low growl.

Turning your head, you saw he had woken up, his mandibles moved, clicking at you, his large face looking down on you.

You took a step back, and he took one towards you, this continued for a bit until you took a bad step, there was no more ground to support your weight, you began to fall back, your arms flailed in the air, you closed your eyes bracing for a pain that never came.

The feeling of a strong arm around your waist replaced the feeling of air rushing past you. Peeking your eyes open, the beasts face was inches from yours, he had caught you with his arm.

A blush formed across your face, as he pulled you back onto stable ground. He moved his arm away, and took a step back, kneeling down so that his eyes were at level with yours.

You stared at him intently, noticing his strong build, his large frame, and his large muscular feet and legs.

"T-thank you....", you stuttered, not taking your eyes off of him.

The sound of clicks continued to sound from him, he rose his hand up, and seemed to touch the side of his mask, you could hear some sort of weird sound come from it, it confused you.

"Y-you are...welcome..." the beast said, turning his head at you.

"You can talk?", you said, shock still in your voice.

He turned his head in the other direction, raising his hand and tapping his helmet with his finger, indicating it was letting him talk to her.

With that same finger, it left his helmet and reached towards your neck, you reeled back in fear. Causing him to stop in shock, and hesitate.

"Do...not worry..."he grumbled, moving his hand some more.

You watched with one eye open, still weary of him, his finger reached closer, and he used it to turn your chin to look back at him, and it slid down your chin to your neck, tracing the rope burn.

"Who....did this....to you...?"

You sighed in dispare.

"My master did....", you whimpered, sadness was showing its way through your face.

"Master....? You...own one...another...?" he asked, taking his hand back, getting closer still kneeling down, using his hands to move over.

"Some...own others...and others like me, are born to serve," you said, bringing your own hands up to your rope burn.

"That...is not right...Why do you...not fight back...?"

"I-I can't fight..."

"I will show you", of course that came out clearly.

With that he stood at his full height, and held his hand out to you. You looked at him, and at his hand, slowly putting your small one into his, A purr came from his chest, as he picked you up onto his back, and then slid down the side of the cliff, as it was nothing to him.

On his back, he began to walk you into the forest, taking you to a clearing and setting you down. He walked out a bit farther than you, pulling a large spear off his back, he twirled it in the air in an intimidating fashion. Holding it straight ahead of him, it extended and sharp blades came out of the ends on both sides.

For the next couple of weeks, he taught you how to use the weapon, teaching you the motions, how to strike, and how to defend yourself. He also showed you how to hunt, how to trap, and how to skin an animal. He told you these are very necessary if you were going to live in the wilderness.

You happily learned from him, taking time to listen to him very closely, every word he said, every motion he made, every strike, you made sure to absorb all of it.

You sat at the entrance of the cave, watching the fire crackle under that days kill, the smell of meat filling the cave.

"Tomorrow you will learn hand to hand fighting," it seemed the more he spoke to you, the clearer his words became.

"Hand to hand...?" you looked at him, as he sat on the other side of the fire, he stared off into the forest.

"To defend yourself from them," he stated, pointing his hands into the forest, his finger directing your eyes over the tree line, cross the large lake, you could see the small flickers of fire from a camp, most likely the people who brought you here.

You agreed, taking the meat off the fire and taking small bites.

"Where are you from?," you asked, looking at him, the heat of the fire making your face warm, yep the fire nothing else you little sicko.

He turned his large head to look at you, almost as if he could smile he would, his mandibles extended and clicked together as he looked towards the stars.

"I come from a place called Yautja Prime..." he started, speaking of his home life. You sat and listened to him long after the fire had died down.

The next morning started as usual, you ate breakfast, and he carried you to the training spot.

When you arrived he kneeled in front of you, his hand reached up removing his helmet, the first time you would have been seeing his face, his golden eyes looking into yours, yet you did not flinch at all, you felt something but you did not know what yet. His mandibles clicked, and he tilted his head, not expecting your reaction. Putting his mask back up and put a bit of space between the two of you.

He turned to you and spoke.

"Hit me."

"What?!"

"Hit. Me."

Slowly you began to walk up to him, and then a walk turned into a run, you clenched your fist, and went to hit him, never making contact with him, his large hand grabbed your first and raised it above your head, he threw you to the ground.

"Again."

So you tried again, this time going at him from the left, the same outcome, this went on for an hour, your grew frustrated, clearly the two of you were far too different in size and strength.

You sat on the ground, upset with yourself, he knelt down next to you.

"Again?", he asked, looking at you,

"I can't hit you...you're too strong..." you said under your breath,

"Perhaps, I have been too hard, I will allow you to hit me, I will take the full hit."

"Really?"

He turned his head in the other direction, as a sign saying, "Go ahead"

But you were feeling something in your chest, when he turned his head, you placed a kiss against the side of his face, causing him to startle, he turned to you quickly, and then you clocked him in the face.

He growled for a second, and looked at you, and lunged at you, grabbing you from under your butt, and lifted you into the air.

"Good job, you have outsmarted me" he purred.

You just stared at him in awe like you do quite often, a red flush going across your face as he lifted you up effortlessly.

"You're...strong.." you said, looking down at him

"I am very strong...you are very small..."he chuckled, looking up at you.

"Much stronger than me" you smiled, looking around the trees at this new height

"I could...show you my true strength..." he purred at you.

You gulp, and look down at him.

"Your...real strength...go ahead..." your eyes are wide, wondering what his display will be to you.

"Then I shall..." he said with a huff, placing his hand on your stomach pushing you up, and then his other, raising you far above his head, and then removing one hand, "Show you my whole strength"

You stared in awe, as he held you above his head with a single hand, no sign of weakness, you began to laugh.

"Oh my! " you called out, not noticing someone was staring at you with passion and care in his eyes.

"Do you...wish to mate?" he asked, seriousness in his voice

"WHAT?" you gasped, wiggling on his hand, causing him to lose his balance of you, causing you to slip out of his hand, and fall towards the ground below.

Once again, the pain of the ground never hit your body, just the comforting touch of his hands around your body filling that space.

You looked at him, your eyes not straying away from his face, your face redder than an apple.

"Well...?" he asked, standing you back on your feet, awaiting your answer.

Standing there you began to fidget with your fingers, looking at your feet, you began to play this scene in your head many times before speaking from the heart.

"I...do..." you whispered, hearing the sound of him coming closer, kneeling down and looking at you from below.

"Then you will be mine?" he asked, his fingers grazed your face.

You nodded in agreement, and whoosh, you were pulled close to his chest, hearing his excited heart rate. You stood between his knees, you pulled back a bit, and placed your hands on his face, of course you would kiss him, if he had lips. You settled for placing one on his head. A happy purr emanating from his chest, as he pulled you into am embrace.

"Mine..." he said in a low purr,

It seemed like the two of you stood there forever, just the two of you alone in that clearing, until he suddenly stood up, placing a protective hand ahead of you, as his face scanned the bush line.

"What's wrong..?" you asked, looking up at him

He didn't respond, he eyes snapped to a certain area, and soon a large bear walked out, sniffing the ground, clearly following the scent of something it wanted.

It looked up, sniffing the air in your direction, letting out a roar, it began walking closer.

Sure all your training was good, but this was a bear, and you in fact were not the size of a bear.

He stood between you in the bear, as the bear began to charge. It leapt up, throwing itself into his arms. He quickly punched it in the face, as the bear clawed at his back, grabbing the bears sides, he threw it back on the ground. Standing up straight he took a stance, the bear shook off the blow of hitting the ground, and charged once again, speeding up, it was closer to him, but he quickly side stepped, and punched it in the side of the head, immediately knocking the bear to the ground with a sickening crack.

You looked, shock all over your face as he picked up the bear with his arms, and held it above his head, he let out a roar of victory, and threw it back to the ground, turning his attention back to you.

"Are you alright...?" he asked, kneeling.

"You just....punched a bear...to death...it was one punch..." you stammered,

"I told you I was strong," he chuckled.

"Yeah but, I didn't believe you could even," you shook an open hand towards the dead bear.

"Does that surprise you...?" he said, a smirk would be across his face (IF HE HAD LIPS), a bit of tease in his voice

"You told me to hit you, as if I could ever beat you."

"Yes, but why does that matter?"

"I could never beat you..."

"Why is that?" he scooted closer to you.

"You're clearly stronger," you looked at him, confused as to why he was teasing you, now seeing he was now kneeling over you, like me hovering over that sweet deep dish pizza.

Before you knew it he lunged at you, his face in the crook of your neck, a growl emanating from his chest, you knew what was to happen next, and you were fine with it.

You were fine with his clawed hand going down your body, his sharp claw ripping your only clothing off of your body. He took off his mask and tossed it to the side.

He opened his mouth, and his long tongue slithered out, sliding between your breasts, as he moved the soft spot of his hand over your nipple, feeling it between his fingers.

You let out a soft moan, watching him untie the loin cloth from the back of himself. Letting it drop between you, and showing all of himself to you.

You could feel your body change in excitement as the sight of that going into you made you wetter, he quickly turned you over onto your hands and knees, and you felt the tip of himself touch your slick.

Slowly, he eased his way into you, feeling his chest press against your back, his hands by yours, his tongue sliding on the back of your neck, he began to thrust all of his length into you.

You fell to the ground, crying out in pleasure as all of him slipped into you, he growled in pleasure, moving his hips again, and again, and again. The sounds of your skins slapping one another seemed to echo through the forest. You were crying on the ground, in a state of pure ecstasy.

Moving positions, he slid a hand under your stomach, and pulled you up, now on his knees, he gripped your hips, and moved you up and down against his length, he growled in pleasure, feeling your soft walls around all of him.

You could feel his claws press into you ever so tightly, even while on his lap, he was still much taller than you, you looked up to see him staring directly at you, taking one of his hands he gripped one of your breasts, continuing to pump himself into you, your juices mixing and creating a small pool between the two of you on the ground.

He looked to the sky, and let out a roar of pleasure once more, quickening his pace, gripping your breast tighter as his movement began to get rougher, the hand on your hip moved to your front, as he began to rub your clit, causing you to throw your head back into his chest, his tongue slipping down from his mouth, as he arched his back, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

Your body was flushed red, and you moaned as the two tongue swirled together, feeling the pool of pleasure build up in your stomach.

"I'm...I'm..." you cried,

His hand grabbed your hips again roughly, he began to slam into you harder, this sent you over the edge, causing you to climax, it shot out of you onto his legs, and he roared once again.

Taking in the scent of it all, his primal side came over, he threw you down onto the ground again, not breaking away from you, he began to rapidly thrust into you over and over, causing you to cry out, he began to roar, as his body began to shake, his climax rippling over him as he filled you up.

That night, the two of you laid in his nest, a fur over your body as you no longer had any clothing. He was okay with that, as at home it was not uncommon for others to walk bare.

His large hand traced your sleeping face, as he looked at the claw marks across your body.

He was going to cut his hunting trip early, as he had found his prize.

[ancuninfiles]

Euphorbia

GIF by @ishaslife

3.4k words - F/M - Astarion x F! Reader - 18+

Work summary: Three days of relentless arousal toward the opposite sex were the result of confusing purslane with euphorbia—an error unbecoming of even a novice druid, as well as a self-taught one like yourself. Naturally, with your luck, those three days couldn’t be spent quietly in seclusion. Instead, you were abducted by a Mindflayer ship and infected with one of their parasites.

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You were panting, squirming, and nearly whining—it surprised you that he hadn’t killed you yet with the fuss you made. You couldn't help it, though, and you felt horrible for subjecting a stranger to such behaviour, whether he was murderous or not.

“You're quite the feral thing, aren't you? Perhaps I should just put you out of your misery—hm?” He quipped, and you felt a light brushing of what felt like his lips on your throat.

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Tags: shameless smut, aphrodisiacs, sex pollen vibes, outdoor sex, cunnilingus, P in V sex, praise kink, blink and you'll miss it degradation, astarion has a big dick, mildly dubious consent, fingering, creampie, vampire bites, no beta

MASTERLIST (Other works)

Read on AO3 for full tag list (recommended)

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾☼☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Three days of relentless arousal toward the opposite sex were the result of confusing purslane with euphorbia—an error unbecoming of even a novice druid, as well as a self-taught one like yourself. Naturally, with your luck, those three days couldn’t be spent quietly in seclusion. Instead, you were abducted by a Mindflayer ship and infected with one of their parasites.

Fortunately, the nautiloid primarily housed women among the living, except for a cambion who was easy enough to avoid.

Now that the ship had crashed, you could only pray to the gods that you didn't encounter a man, for fear of embarrassing yourself in these unfamiliar Faerünian lands. From the dead fishermen and barrels on the beach, you suspected there was a settlement nearby, but you decided to stay away for a few days to be safe. After all, you knew how to live off the land and could all but hope that you wouldn't turn into a Mindflayer.

It was unfortunate that the cleric had been knocked out cold on the beach; otherwise, you would have asked her for help. The gods had not been kind to you in the past two days.

So, you fought the intellect devourers on your own, an easy feat in which you were left with only one scratch; perhaps your luck was beginning to change.

You waltzed through the nautiloid, looting what you could and staying vigilant to avoid any more unwanted encounters. Exiting the crashed ship, you headed up a dirt hill, watching the ground and trying not to trip as you went.

“Ah, at last, another soul.”

The voice, likely a man's judging by the tenor, stopped you in your tracks. A primal heat lanced through you as you hesitantly raised your eyes to meet his—though you weren't sure if it was solely the euphorbia or perhaps trepidation. 

Oh no, this wasn’t just any man; it was a beautiful man with perfectly groomed hair and an alluring, herbaceous scent. His jawline was sharp and his eyes, piercing—all ingredients in a dangerously intoxicating and irresistible recipe.

“Hurry, I've got one of those brain things cornered,” he said, requesting your assistance. “You can kill it, can't you? Like you killed the others?”

As desire surged through your lower abdomen, you knew you had to leave—now. You spun on your heel and, without a word, started walking away from the gorgeous elven man, using every bit of willpower within you.

In your mind, you pictured what his length might look like, and how it would feel if he released inside you—depraved thoughts that you ought to keep to yourself. You had to get far away from this man, as quickly as possible.

“I was hoping for a kind soul, but, not to worry,” was all you heard before he grabbed your waist, and you toppled to the ground with him at your back as he held a dagger to your throat. His groin was surreptitiously pressed against your bottom, and he held your body firmly against his, hooking an arm under and around both your upper limbs and ribcage—effectively immobilizing you

Surely, this was the worst-case scenario. Though, if he killed you, it would at least relieve the shameful yearning in your nethers—a yearning that was becoming stronger the tighter he grasped.

You clenched your teeth as you panted, attempting to stifle any salacious sounds that might come unbidden. However, you couldn't help but squirm under his grasp, causing his arresting grip to tighten and, consequently, your hole to quiver. Whether it was to escape or to attain friction where you needed it most, you didn't know, as you were irrevocably enthralled by the plant medicine coursing through your veins.

“Shh—not a word, not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours,” he purred, the low timbre of his voice oscillating through your core.

“Please—let me go. I'm not myself, and you don't want to be around me when I’m like this,” you protested, your nipples hardening as your breasts rested above his forearm.

“Don’t lie—I saw you on the ship, didn't I? Nod,” he argued, his breath brushing on your ear causing you to crane your head back in the dirt and onto his shoulder.

You were panting, squirming, and nearly whining—it surprised you that he hadn’t killed you yet with the fuss you made. You couldn't help it, though, and you felt horrible for subjecting a stranger to such behaviour, whether he was murderous or not.

“You're quite the feral thing, aren't you? Perhaps I should just put you out of your misery—hm?” He quipped, and you felt a light brushing of what felt like his lips on your throat before a sudden painful violet aura encapsulated you both, halting all actions and demanding attention.

Visions of dark alleyways and the Baldurian nightlife flooded your mind. These were the memories of the elven man who held you to his chest—memories of hiding in the shadows.

The aura died down, leaving you confused as you tried to catch your breath in the stranger's arms.

“What was that?” He asked.

“I think it was the parasite, it—connected us,” you guessed, panting as your hips shot back against his groin unbidden. To your surprise, he was hard. 

Fuck, when did that happen?

“Hm.” He pressed his pelvis into your bottom experimentally, “I saw your naughty little thoughts, my dear,” he whispered directly in your ear.

You tried to stifle a moan but you were unsuccessful, as your will was whittling away, bit by bit. 

He dropped his blade to place his hand on the inside of your upper thigh, where he gripped sensually. You tipped your head forward as your face contorted in pleasure and your eyes began to water—you were vehemently craving this man's merciful touch.

“Shh— I've got you. I only need your name and your permission. Let us help each other find release—hm?” He crooned, as he moved his hand from your thigh to your waistband where he teased his fingers under it.

Gods, this was a horrible idea, dangerous even—but he smelt so fresh and his sonorous voice felt as if it were caressing you inside and out. Your will was faltering, and if you died on this endeavour, you thought you might at least die while having fun.

“My name's—hm—Tav,” you spoke, a needy whine breaking your sentence. 

“Astarion, pleasure to meet you.” He pushed his hard, clothed cock between your bottom cheeks, eliciting a moan from you. “Now, darling, tell me what you want, and it shall be yours.”

Your mind was racing, the only thing you could think of was how big his member felt as he pressed it to your backside, and how you wanted to be completely taken by him here and now—nothing else mattered.

“I want to be ravished, here—on the cliffside,” you admitted, uninhibitedly, a sweat forming on your brow.

Astarion clicked his tongue. “You poor, sweet thing. You want to be filled by a stranger so desperately. Not to worry, I can help you—if you're a very good girl.”

He released his grip at last, and you couldn't help but whine in dissent. His grasp was soothing, after all.

“Tut tut—how else are we going to get undressed?” He chastised before standing to lift his shirt above his head, his muscles rippling with the movement.

His scent became stronger as he folded his shirt and placed it on a patch of grass. He put his thumbs under his waistband and started pulling down his strays.

You watched him raptly as you began tugging down your own, along with your underwear as you sat on the ground. His glistening hardness sprang free and it was most definitely going to be the largest you'd taken before. Perhaps the gods were going to spare you, after all. 

He cavalierly folded his pants and placed them with his shirt before removing his shoes. He knelt to you and slid his hand down your shin before removing one shoe and then the other.

You came up to your elbows as you simultaneously watched and felt him snake his hands up your thighs in tandem, experimentally squeezing your hips before beginning to fuss with the tie on your shirt.

He made eye contact with you as he finished unlacing your top with one dexterous hand and gripping your ribcage with the other. He pulled your unlaced shirt apart, thoughtfully, as it rested on the ground around your elbows. Before he could finish the job, he dove into your breast with his mouth, sensually nipping and sucking on your pebble while he held your other breast, toying with your nipple with his thumb.

You wanted to throw your head back in pleasure, but you couldn't take your eyes off of Astarion. The way his tongue flicked on your mound was sending waves of fire through your body, and you thought you might cum from just the sight of his reverence.

His mouth disconnected from you with a pop, a string of saliva connecting him to you. “Apologies—your body is so beautiful, I just couldn't help but have a taste,” he purred as he thumbed your now wet pebble.

Your thoughts were muddy with desire, which made speaking difficult. All you could manage was a whiney “Thank you,” as he helped you take the rest of your shirt off.

How lucky you were that the man you encountered seemed to be a gentleman. He could have easily been a brute, and in your state, you're not sure if you'd be able to resist either way. 

Astarion descended to your core with his face, licking a thick and soothing stripe through your folds and causing you to arch your back. As soon as his tongue made contact with your clit, it sent an electric pulse through your womb.

“Delicious,” he exclaimed, and you watched him intently as he grabbed your thighs and began sucking on your clit, groaning into it like a man starved of his favourite meal.

His pace on your bud was consistent, he must have been practiced because he was bringing you to your peak already—either that, or the euphorbia was working its cruel forbidden magic.

You clenched around nothing; your body felt too empty—it yearned to be filled. Fingers, cock, toys, anything to soothe the burning need that now caused you to keen in pleasure.

Astarion laughed a low rumble in his chest at your cry, continuing his work on your nub with his sinful tongue.

“Please—Astarion,” you supplicated, unable to fully express your need as his laps quickened.

He rose, replacing his tongue with two digits that rubbed taut circles—the pace matching that of his tongue. “Please, what?” He asked, a roguish grin painted on his face.

You groaned through gritted teeth at his toying, as your brows knitted together. You wished he could just read your mind as he did before, as your words were caught in your throat.

Tensing, you were close, and as if he could sense it, he slowed his pace, not allowing you to reach your end.

“Please, what?” He rasped.

The nerve.

Your vision was becoming foggy, and you felt like you might faint if you didn’t reach fulfillment soon. You tried one last time to speak, managing, “Inside,” through gasps of air, though you could only hope that he was satisfied with your plea.

He did not respond, but you could feel his fingers as they parted your lips below. This was an action that would typically embarrass you—hells, all of this was—but your logic felt irrelevant. 

All that mattered was the way his tongue felt when he continued and the way his two fingers felt as they plunged into your hole. He pumped languidly with curved digits, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot and causing you to sob with ecstasy.

The combination of his fingers fucking you and his tongue passionately playing with your bud was creating a feeling similar to falling within your body. Surges of rhapsody lanced through you as you approached your peak. Astarion growled beastially from his depths into your quim, and it was enough to push you over the edge as you quivered around his merciful fingers.

He continued his worship as you rode out your orgasm and tried to catch your breath. You couldn't help but be filled with gratitude for this man—he could have easily used your body for his own pleasure, but instead, he put yours first.

However, as soon as the fire faded, another was lit and you were aching for release once more. He removed his fingers and face from your channel and you pouted, but he grinned devilishly at your frustration.

Soon enough, he climbed atop you and between your legs. Astarion clicked his tongue. “You poor girl—if only we had at least a blanket for you to lie on,” he crooned before leaning down to kiss you. At first, his lips were closed, but then he added more passion, attempting to part your lips with his. You submitted, allowing each other to delve into one another's maws with fervour.

He groaned into your mouth as you felt his tip tease your entrance—you certainly did not care about the dirt on your back now. He kissed down your jaw to your neck as he inserted his length just enough to make you plead for more.

“Would you mind if I bit you, darling? I only need a taste—I swear,” he asked as his lips brushed your throat, his words, laced with desperation.

His words confused you—you felt too befuddled to comprehend the entire consequence of accepting his request. Additionally, if allowing him to bite you meant that you'd be speared on his hardness at last—well—you'd do anything he asked of you.

You were able to hum your assent, and his hips thrust into you, filling you fully. You weren't sure if you could even fit him entirely as he stretched you more than anyone ever had. 

Though his entry was painless, his bite was not. It took you by surprise, and you scolded yourself internally for not thinking through what he said. You knew that some people had interesting kinks, but to bite hard enough to draw blood was. . .

Not a kink, but a diet.

Astarion, the man who was fucking you oh so heavenly into the earth, was a vampire. Not only that, but also he was now draining you of your lifeblood.

But, fuck, it felt so good; the way he was slowly rutting into you as you adjusted to his size. Even the pain of his bite faded into a throbbing numbness as he brought his hand to the back of your head and pulled it towards him. 

For some reason, your vulnerability and feebleness compared to his dominance and power only served to stir your desire more. You would let yourself be completely consumed, utterly devoured just because it felt right. 

As if it wasn't enough stimulation already, Astarion’s cock was seemingly growing within you the more he imbibed. His thrusts were slow and purposeful as if he were trying not to hurt you. He would pull out nearly all the way, only to stuff you moments later repetitively. 

Rolling his hips, the stroke of his thrusts lessened, as he converted to fully sheathing himself, twirling his pelvis teasingly, and then pulling out mere centimetres before repeating these careful movements again and again. It was as if he was trying to balance his focus evenly on both his meal and his veneration.

However, the corners of your vision were becoming spotty and black, signifying your demise. You could all but choke out a moan while your arms lay limply beside you. This was it— you, a willing victim, were going to be exsanguinated by a vampire.

I'd probably turn into a mind flayer, anyway, you thought.

Whether it be by a miracle or pure chance, Astarion seized his bite, catching his breath as he stilled inside you. Moaning, he pressed the flat of his tongue against your neck as he caught his breath and tidied your wounds.

“Sorry—It seems I was over-eager,” he apologized with sincerity, still craning his head into your shoulder where he placed a few chaste kisses.

Your hands and feet tingled, accompanied by an overall weakness and lightheadedness—a feeling similar to the high of certain smokable herbs in your druidic practice. Your familiarity with these physical symptoms brought you comfort; you knew you were okay, his apology as reassurance. 

How could you feel unsafe beneath a creature who could have easily killed you, or worse, but instead, he has continuously provided sacred relief. This was no mere monster using your body, this was a man seeking his own version of mercy through you—through your ambrosia.

He lifted his torso from yours, yet he maintained your lower entanglement, gripping your bottom and hoisting your pelvis to fuck at the right angle. His body was glistening and his hair was damp with sweat. With knitted brows and crimson dripping from the side of his maw, he watched your body undulate as he speared you repeatedly���a shakey groan tearing through him.

Suddenly, Astarion sucked on his index and middle finger, coating them in his saliva before placing them on your swollen nub and rubbing taut circles while he rutted—causing you to keen once more with an arched back. 

A low and throaty chuckle seeped from him as he smirked at your response to his reverence. “Sweet girl—you want to be so full of my seed, don't you?”

Your cheeks were wet due to crying from the overwhelming drug-induced pleasure combined with Astarion's sheer skill as he worked you toward your climax.

“Uhuh,” you whined, desperate for release.

“I thought so,” he clicked his tongue, “You're doing so well—just stay still.”

You had not noticed before but you had been squirming a bit, which likely confused him, making him unsure of your needs.

How could someone make check-ins sound so—sexy?

You tried your best to relax your body, though your lower muscles tensed as he spat on your hole while he fucked into it.

“That's a good girl—cum for me.”

His words were enough to send your orgasm ripping through you like a violent quake as he rubbed your clit vehemently. You fluttered on his girth, and you felt so terribly full with him inside you. 

Astarion hummed deeply at the feeling of your climax, biting his lip to seemingly stifle an undignified moan. “Very good—now for your reward,” he praised.

Removing his hand from your folds, he cleaned your juices from his digits with closed eyes, as if savouring the flavour. His pace picked up as he removed his fingers from his mouth and effortlessly grabbed your lower cheeks for leverage. 

The daylight shone on his toned chest, refracting golden hues off of his porcelain skin, as the sun seemed significantly lower than it was when you began your tryst.

His muscles flexed as he pumped into you rapidly—wet, salacious sounds emanating off of your divine entanglement.

Your eyes met his, his brows canted up as his mouth fell agape—desperation painting his expression as his pace became ragged and uncontrolled.

At last, he spilled inside you, sheathing himself fully as he coated your womb with his essence. Huffing, his shoulders melted down as he watched your combined juices leak around him while he rocked shallowly into your swollen folds. 

His touch on your hips was cool and soothing, and you began to regain lucidity after your last orgasm—though you knew it would only be temporary.

“Your blood—it was—amazing,” he exclaimed through breaths. “I feel—happy—and curiously aroused.”

Oh, no—the euphorbia.

With your remaining clarity, you spoke, “You might be feeling—the effects of a drug I accidentally took,” you say, a huff of air breaking your sentence, “euphorbia.”

“Well,” he said before snapping his hips into you. “We might be here all night, then, won't we?” He rasped with a roguish grin and blown-out pupils before lifting you to sit on his length while he sat on his heels. “Let's hope nobody chooses this path this evening.”

You wrapped your arms around him, whining your agreement as he took you once again, though you were far past caring about being caught.

↓˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮•:•☾𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬☽•:•✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖↓

Notes: Firstly, I'd like to thank you all for your continued support as I take on this new, enriching hobby of writing smut LOL. I've learned a lot since my first work, and I continue to learn as I receive constructive feedback and continuously do my own research.

Secondly, I just wanted to add that under no circumstance should anyone take advantage of you, specifically sexually. This is fiction, and it's sexy because it's not real.

Also, during this work, I compare the feeling of blood loss to "smokable herbs", as a way to make "Tav" feel at ease with the symptoms. If you are experiencing the same symptoms as her after losing a bunch of blood, please dial 9-1-1 (or whatever the emergency number is in your country) IMMEDIATELY. You are probably going to die if it's that bad unless you get medical help.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I tried to emphasize the respect that Astarion holds for Tav while he has sex with her; as I tried to keep everything as enthusiastic as possible, considering the involvement of aphrodisiacs.

[viperixsworld]

Born to die

━━ Benjicot Blackwood x oc

Chapther one : the riverwoman

Year 126 A.C.

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Sometimes, Lucrezcia thought to herself how easy it would be to escape. The Arbor was an island wonderfully connected to practically the entire world known to man. Volantis seemed like a good destination, all she needed was a ship, of which she had thousands at her disposal.

But there were several factors that deprived her of such a plan. First, her father was as tenacious as she was, and would find her and drag her back so that he could marry her off to whomever he offered.

The second, and at that moment more important, Lucreczia was sitting in a carriage, on her way to her first audience with her possible future husband. Her father, sitting opposite her, seemed to be trying to ignore her by any means possible. Lucrezcia, for her part, tried to annoy him, making noises with her rings.

"Could you, my child, stop being a nuisance for a few moments?"

The girls stopped her movements, to offer a sarcastic smile to her father.

"Oh, excuse me dearest father, it must be pre-marital nerves".

"Are you always so unbearable?"

I have someone to look like

But she preferred to swallow her words. Lunch with Lord Tarly's niece had been most victorious for her lord father. Julianna Tarly was a slender and tremendously young girl, no older than Lucrezcia herself. The young Redwyne found her stepmother-to-be irritating and exceedingly sordid. A childish girl who could compete in immaturity with her nearly five-year-old sister.

The irony of the gods, he was getting rid of a daughter to return to a wife who might be confused by one of his offspring.

Luckily for her, she would not have to put up with the new Lady of the Arbor, as she would be married by then in any corner of the fucking continent.

Honeyholt was the home of the Beesbury house, sworn to the Hightowers. With their lord at King's Landing as part of King Viserys Targaryen's council, it was Lady Beesbury, who had kindly offered to host the court. Not out of charity, of course, but out of business with one of the richest houses in all of Westeros. Lucrezcia was just a pawn, just like in her father's chessboard.

The Reach was undoubtedly a beautiful place, filled with flowers of all kinds and palaces that looked like something out of a book about knights in shining armour. Lady Beesbury greeted them at the entrance, an elderly, petite woman with an unbridled taste for pie and tartlets. Lucrezcia tried to smile and look delighted at the auction of her person to a bunch of usurious lords, as the old woman led her into the garden where the tea was to be held.

They say that you are not aware of your destiny until it is staring you in the face.

That's how Lucrezcia felt when she set foot in the garden, becoming the centre of everyone's attention. It seemed that they had deliberately arrived early, to make her entrance more conspicuous. Pairs of eyes scrutinised her as if she were one of the cakes on the table.

So far, the trip had served to psych her up, but the possibility that her future husband might be among these men made her want to vomit horribly.

"Cheer up, dear, they're watching you," her father's voice echoed behind her.

Fuck off

A strange tingling settled in her spine. She approached the small table with the cakes, while her father stood talking to some men in pompous clothes.

Lucrezcia contemplated that apart from herself, the only other woman at the soiree was the elderly Lady Beesbury (except for the maids who went to and fro). The rest were men. Tall, thin, short, fat, ornately dressed, full of jewels. With the balance on the side of men of her father's generation rather than her own.

She wondered if her mother suffered such a thing, being from the Iron Islands, they probably put her on a ship straight to the Arbor in a wedding dress and called it a day.

She didn't know if it was worse than what she was going through at that moment.

"My lady"

Lucrezcia gobbled down the raspberry pastry in her hand before turning to the person who spoke to her.

A short, chubby man with a terrible grey moustache and little hair in the centre of his head, he took the hand that previously held a pastry and planted a kiss on the back of her hand.

"My name is Lord Daryl Florent"

She watched him wordlessly, chewing the pastry exaggeratedly. Lord Florent began to talk about his life, still holding her hand. When the man stopped talking, seeing that the girl did not answer, he said to her.

"You would be prettier if you smiled."

A spark lit up the girl's eyes. She tugged at the corners of her mouth, preparing a flamboyant smile. A smile that showed all her teeth covered in the raspberry filling of the pastry.

Lord Florent made no secret of his displeasure as he let go of the young woman's hand and walked indignantly towards another group of men watching the interaction.

Preach the word, fatty.

The afternoon was summed up in a series of frustrated attempts by different men to approach her in an attempt to woo her. When the man was old to begin with, her tactic was to be disgusting, play with food and make comments that implied she was a woman with ideas.

When they tried to elicit information about her interests, Lucrezcia didn't bother to lie. She liked to hunt, enjoyed wine and ale (no surprise, being the daughter of the leading exporter of ale in all of Westeros), could barely do needlework, and was very interested in the political situation in the realm.

Most did not endure up to that point in the conversation, but the few who did, asked the golden question.

"And you are an avid reader from what your father says. What is the last book you read, my lady?"

"A caution for young girls, my lord"

That used to be the final strike.

Who wants a wife who reads about sex with the intention of self-pleasure rather than to give heirs?

With the many horrified looks from the gentlemen, Luther could only resist the urge to slap his daughter in the middle of the garden.

Night fell upon them, and Lady Beesbury invited them into Honeyholt's great hall. Lucrezcia watched as less than half of the large crowd of men who had been there at the beginning of the evening remained. It was clear that the great hall table was almost empty, apart from Lady Beesbury, her father, herself and some nine suitors.

The food was extremely sweet for her taste. The girl chewed in silence as her lord father spoke to the few remaining men.

Unfortunately for her, most of them were old men who had not succumbed to her tactics. She was very bored. The dress of salmon-coloured fabric was particularly itchy, the belt of thick golden thread cut off her circulation. The hairstyle that Nyssa had done for her this morning was pulling at her brain cells.

The kingdom was in the springtime, according to the maesters. The Reach's crops were thriving, but Lucrezcia wished at the moment that everything would freeze over. At the very least, for a breeze to blow. She felt like she was in the middle of Dorne's Red Desert.

In those moments of desperation, she considered faking a fainting spell. She could pour some wine over herself, lie on the floor and hope that her father would get fed up with this fanfare and decide to return to his island.

Oh, her island. Lucrezcia had always dreamed of leaving it, but now she missed it more than anything. The walks through the vineyards, going to the Ryamsport harbour market to watch the seafarers' festivals, skinny-dipping on the beach with Nyssa at an hour her father hadn't allowed.

Even her palace on the cliffs of the Arbor, right by Starfish Harbor. The library's stained glass windows, its chambers overlooking the sea, the passageways to the kitchens and stables where she could go out with her pack of hounds.

How she missed her puppies.

She hoped to transport them to wherever she was getting married.

The last litter had been of 8 puppies, 5 of which survived. Now with the perfect age and training for a good hunt. They were fast and strong, they could tear a fox apart in a few seconds.

Surely their dogs were more loyal than all these men sitting at the table. She wondered if she could use them as bait for her little puppies. As a form of training.

Nah, they'd be too easy prey.

In her reverie, Lucrezcia ignored the doors to the great hall and it was not until Lady Beesbury rose from her seat at the end of the table to greet the new visitors.

"My Lady Blackwood, what a surprise, I was not expecting you yet."

That made the Redwyne girl look up from her plate of gooseberry duck. The sight stunned her.

A tall, slender but athletic woman with a cascade of obsidian-black hair curling like tornadoes. Behind her, six men, all somewhat rough-looking, dressed in the same clothes as her. Riding clothes, black and crimson.

The men looked hungry, staring at the bloody roast duck as if they hadn't eaten in days. They reminded her of her dogs, waiting attentively at the woman's command.

"I hope I have not interrupted with our entry" said the woman "We have a long drive to Oldtown and Lord Beesbury had offered us accommodation for the night".

Lady Beesbury did not look very pleased, but she could do nothing against her husband's orders.

"Well... I guess you may sit down, please, please, you must be starving" said the old lady.

Lucrezcia sent an amused glance at her father, who looked tense but intrigued as Lady Blackwood's men swept through the feast.

"And tell me, Lady Blackwood. What is your business so far from the Riverlands?" asked her father, sipping from his wine glass.

"Our maester fell ill a couple of moons ago. We were travelling to the Citadel to request reinforcements at Raventree Hall. My Lord Brother sent me on his behalf".

"I understand" said her father.

As the rivermen gulped, Alyssane looked at her father.

"And what are you doing, Lord...?"

"Lord Redwyne" interrupted Lady Beesbury "Lord Redwyne of the Arbor and his daughter, Lady Lucrezcia, are here as my guests, as are all these distinguished gentlemen".

Black Aly surveyed the table, the distinguished gentlemen looking rather uncomfortable at the presence of her men. She then looked at the girl in the salmon-coloured dress. Lucrezcia felt a little self-conscious, but smiled at the new guest. She smiled back.

The woman from the Riverlands could not be more than ten years older than her. And she was not stupid. The picture was so obvious that asking the question was totally unnecessary.

The dinner went as smoothly as possible. With the suitors gradually withdrawing as Lucrezcia's father and Lady Alyssane had an arduous conversation about the politics and succession of the realm, with the recent birth of Prince Joffrey.

Lucrezcia learned there that the Blackwoods were a Riverlands family of considerable prestige, the only one in their lands to practice the religion of the Old Gods. Lord Luther had long sought to expand into the interior of the continent, exporting mostly to coastal cities.

Any occasion is good for business, Lucrezcia supposed.

Her maid, Nyssa, was quick to come and fetch her as the hour of the wolf approached. As did Lady Beesbury.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Lucrezcia," Alyssane said goodbye. "I had hoped that tomorrow we might be able to breakfast together in the gardens, if Lady Beesbury sees fit for your... matchmaking".

The old woman didn't seem to agree, but after the disaster with her first twenty suitors, she figured that giving the girl the morning off would be a good idea.

"The pleasure was all mine, Lady Alyssane," said the girl before following Lady Beesbury and Nyssa to her chambers.

Once the girl was out, only Lord Luther, Black Aly and an empty jug of wine were left in the hall.

"She is a beautiful girl, you are very lucky, Lord Redwyne," congratulated the woman.

Luther wanted to laugh in her face. Yes, his third daughter was beautiful, a light brown-haired beauty with huge green eyes, a fine face and a pretty composition.

"She'd make an ideal wife, if she wasn't a problem with legs." The man began as Lady Alyssane listened " The girl is the smartest of my four daughters, and the most ambitious. Nine septas she has cost me in less than four years, they say she is incorrigible" the man massaged his temple "I had hoped a husband would soothe her spirit" he lamented.

In his deepest dreams, Luther regretted that Lucrezcia was not a man. She would have been the perfect heir, but sadly the laws and her own opinions deprived her of that status.

Luther had to marry off his daughter. That was the custom and the law.

Black Aly listened with attention, scheming in her own mind.

Lucrezcia reminded her of herself, a young woman who just wanted her place in the world. Though Aly had been luckier in the family, from what she was hearing. While her father described his third with a mixture of resentment and pride, as she noticed, the girl did not remind him only of her.

A highly intelligent, cool-headed young noble who enjoyed risk but knew how to keep her composure. She couldn't help but compare her to her own nephew.

Benjicot Blackwood had just turned six and ten, a year younger than Lucrezcia. The boy was proper and somewhat shy among his own kind, but lately quarrels with the Brackens had him in a mess, hanging out with his grooms at the tavern, brawling and neglecting his lessons.

He needed to wise up.

He needed a new goal.

He needed a wife. Her brother, and father of the boy, Lord Samwell Blackwood, had tried to bring up the subject several times, perhaps this was the right occasion.

"I believe, my lord, that I can offer clarity on our problems," the woman commented. "My own nephew, Benjicot Blackwood, future Lord Blackwood and heir to Raventree Hall, may stand as a suitor for your daughter," she explained.

Luther seemed to sober up suddenly. It was a good way to make contacts with the Riverlands, as well as sending his daughter far away.

"How much do you want for her?"

He knew it wasn't smart to send it to the first person who would offer. But she had been on the marriage market for years and nothing. It was a golden opportunity, both for him and for Blackwood.

"I shall write to my brother first thing tomorrow morning. He will discuss with you the details of the dowry, the wedding and so on".

"As tempting as it sounds, I know my daughter, she is capable of galloping away if I promise her to a complete stranger who has never seen her life".

"And for that, my lord" Black Aly leaned her elbows on the table to approach the lord in front of her and say "She'll think it's her idea".

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tag list: @erysione @asteria33 @shifter-101 @drwho-ess

[someforeignband]

🪱Wiggly Worm Wednesday!🪱

having thoughts about eddie and steve going to visit steve’s grandmother! (im spending the week with my nanna and am having thoughts)

It starts with this nebulous idea that Steve’s parents didn’t want to take care of Francesca’s mother after her husband died, so they moved Steve’s maternal grandmother to a 65+ community in Sun City, Arizona. Just like their son, they’d much rather ship off Franny’s mother instead of dealing with her needs. So, they leave sweet Cecilia in a massive 2,900 square foot condo in the Arizona desert, all by herself.

One afternoon in march, Steve gets a call from his Nonna. She explains she has had some plumbing issues and neither Franny, nor Richard is returning her calls. She complains that there’s palm fronds in her yard, and with the state of her back, she just can’t fix all of these things on her own.

“How do you feel about a trip to Arizona?” Steve would ask Eddie, after a two-and-a-half hour long conversation with his grandmother.

Thusly, a PanAm flight to Phoenix was booked. It was Eddie’s first time on a plane. Despite his nerves prior to getting on the flight, he has a marvelous time. Eddie discovers that he loves turbulence and puts his hands up and giggles the whole time.

Steve, to Eddie’s dismay, is the exact opposite. He squeezes the armrest the entire 3.5 hour flight. He can’t stand how relaxed Eddie is, not understanding how someone like Eddie could just be so calm.

Once they land, Steve tries to brief Eddie on his Nonna’s disposition. “She’s sort of a firecracker, Eddie. Very particular about pretty much everything. I’m sorry if she’s mean to you.”

Eddie tells him not to worry about it, assures him they’ll get through the weekend.

To Steve’s delight (and Eddie’s utter surprise), Nonna takes to Eddie like a fish to water. He can talk about the Bible with her. Wayne’s been pretty devout his whole life, so when Eddie makes a comment about her dish towel with Philippians 4:6-7 printed on it, Steve knows Eddie’s going to practically be family.

Cece is ecstatic to be able to show the boy pictures of Italia and tell him stories about her upbringing. She shows him pictures of Franny, pictures of her late husband, and her collection of photos of Steve’s baptism. It keeps Cece distracted, while Steve gets to work fixing her kitchen plumbing.

Steve can’t help but grin to himself like a madman as he tinkers with her pipes, listening to his Nonna and his boyfriend volley back and forth. Sharp as whips, the both of them, and god it was nice to watch Eddie get on with someone who was blood to him.

Steve didn’t have much family that bothered to be in his life.

It was nice.

And best of all— at least for Nonna— Eddie can eat her food. Eddie can seriously put it away. Steve stops after one helping of Parmigiana di Melanzane, but Eddie has two more servings, and saves room for dessert.

“Eat up, Edoardo,” Cece pats his cheek. “Too skinny, Stephano. You starving him?”

“Never, Nonna,” Steve laughs, shaking his head, watching Eddie shovel another spoonful into his mouth, grinning at Steve across the dining room table.

Despite the fact that they’ve been seeing each other for a few months, after dancing around each other for the better part of two years—Eddie’s feeling things about Steve fixing his grandmas plumbing, doing yard work, etc. The flush in Steve’s face, hands on his hips, complaining about the state of the yard: Eddie’s never felt more in love (and other tingly, warm sensations).

Further, Eddie watches Steve and Cece scream at each other in stilted Italian as she tries to pick up a scorpion and take it outside with her bare hands. Finally, after about forty-five seconds of screaming and the scorpion trying to wiggle away, Steve takes Eddie’s boot and smacks the thing with a scared squeal. It crunches under the sole and twitches a few times before dying on the salmon colored tile, guts splattered everywhere.

“You handled that well,” Eddie muses, once the whole ordeal is over, taking a dishcloth and floor cleaner, scrubbing at the thing’s guts.

“I couldn’t let her get stung. She’s seventy-nine!” Steve says, then shudders. “I never wanna do that again.”

Later that night, Eddie sips coffee out of a lumpy clay mug, a Stephano Original, while she and Steve play rummy. Catching eyes over the table, they smile at each other, knowingly. After a while, Eddie gets tired, slinking off to the office, where Cecilia had set him up with an air mattress.

Before Steve retires to the spare bedroom that night, his Nonna pulls him aside, wrapping him in a warm hug.

“Ti voglio,” She whispers, kissing his temple, smoothing his hair back.

“I love you too,” Steve answers quietly, thrown off by the unexpected display of affection.

“And,” She pauses, scrunching her dark eyebrows together, deciding exactly what to say. “I really like that boy, Stephano.”

Steve’s chest fills with warmth, not knowing exactly if she means what he hopes she means. But at that moment, he’ll take it.

“Me, too, Nonna.” He whispers, grinning at her. “Me, too.”

TAGGING ONLY @yours-etc!!!! WRITE SOMETHING I MISS YOUR WRITING

[sparring-spirals]

imogen fumbling shit is just eternally good fodder for memes, alright. and its at least partly BECAUSE of how powerful she is. someone tripping while using a nerf gun? funny. someone dramatically hoisting up an outfit matchin heavy death laser gun and then immediately tripping and landing on their face? phenom. sometimes she goes "GROVEL" and the enemies grovel and we all go "oooooh" and "aaaahhh" and sometimes she just gets fully ignored and gets so huffy and petulant and ineffectually burns a cantrip just to be petty about it. sometimes she smites her enemies into dust with one move and renders a tree in half after threatening and other times she fucking. falls down a flight of stairs and accidentally sets everything on fire. fires a gun at her own team. loses all her hair. turns blue. etc.

Imogen lifts a humongous sand squid into the sky with her mind powers. Imogen is also falling out of a sky ship and landing on the desert sand far below and just. lying there. while her friend plays the flute in the background. epic hot failgirls NEED the HEIGHT to FAIL FROM. u gotta swing and miss sometimes!!! AND you gotta be REAL petty about it when u miss!!!! fucking fantastic.

[uhhhh-em-draws-stuff]

Red white and royal blue red and Chloe AU? HERE ME OUT.

Queen Bridget of hearts sends her daughter princess red and her advisor, and close friend of Red’s, Maddox Hatter, to the royal wedding of Prince Chad and princess Audrey rose in cinderellasburg. Red has an issue with princess Chloe charming of cinderellasburg and is constantly insisting that she is not 5’4 because Red is 5’5 and she’s convinced she’s more than an inch taller than her. Red drinks a bit too much at the reception and picks a fight with Chloe leading to them to tumble to the floor covered in white frosted wedding cake.

Queen Bridget ships her daughter back over to cinderellasburg to do damage control. She’s sent over with the head of the guard and a file to memorize on Chloe. Once there she is forced into a photo opp in her traveling clothes w Chloe, and later interviews, dressed appropriately this time, where they lie through their teeth the whole time about being close friends. They visited a hospital together and are shoved into a closet by the red guards. While in there they work out why red dislikes Chloe over a meeting at a conference years before. Once out of the closet they realize they can get along and part with a promise to see each other again at Red’s New Year’s party.

Chloe finds her number and they start to text and call all day everyday. Once new years rolls around they are attached at the hip at the party. After the time strikes midnight red follows Chloe outside where she kisses her and runs away leaving behind a confused red.

Red is ghosted by Chloe for 2 months. They see each other again at a queens ball hosted in wonderland celebrating the friendship of queen bridget and queen Ella. Red has Chloe meet her in a room down the hall where they kiss once again and are interrupted by the red guard. They go back to the ball and agree to meet in reds room at midnight. They have a FUN(;D) night and agree to do it again sometime before Chloe leaves, lingering in the doorway. She also invites red to her charity fencing tournament.

They see each other at the tournament and go to auardons capital for a special evening where they are intimate for the first time(THEYRE OBVIOUSLY OLDER IN THIS AU)

But there is a pressing issue in Auradon, some rebels in wonderland have been using the rabbit hole in the Sherwood Forest to cause destruction in lands around the forest. The auradonian kingdoms are voting whether or not to close the rabbit hole or not. Red goes campaigning throughout auradon to convince them against closing the rabbit hole. When she comes to cinderellasburg they are caught by the red guard. Red decides to come out to her mother before the guard does it themselves.

Chloe goes with red and her mother on a trip to their lake house in wonderland and while there red admits she loves Chloe, but Chloe runs away and leaves that night without telling red and not speaking to her after. A week later red shows up at the cinderellasburg castle and won’t leave unless she talks to Chloe. They fight and red says she’ll only leave if Chloe tells her to, Chloe can’t. Chloe brings red to the castle gardens and tells her how she dreamed she could dance with someone there. Red plays so this is love and they dance in the moonlight in the gardens.

When red leaves the next morning Chloe gives her her ring she wears on her pinky and red gives her her necklace with rabbit pendant on it. The next morning Chloe wakes to see her letters and e-mails and everything to red have been leaked. Seen by everyone. She is put into lockdown, having her phone and mail privileges taken.

Red makes a speech on the matter and hopes Chloe had watched it. Maddox uses his phone to call Chloe’s brother, chad, and they talk and red announces she’s going to come to cinderellasburg. When red arrives they hug on the staircase and go to her room and spend some much needed time together.

They are summoned by Chloe’s parents and they talk of whether they want to go publicly officially and when they want to do it. Chad notices a huge crowd waving flags outside the palace and Chloe decides now is the time. They go public together in cinderellasburg that day.

The voting on the wonderland rabbit hole comes out in favor of not closing it and all the characters celebrate. The end.