#Raven: I will climb you and claim you—

[gomzdrawfr]

Well…it was only time before I throw Raven into the mix

[bumblesimagines]

Bundles of Joy, Bundles of Anger

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Upon becoming man-grown, Jace was wed to his mother's cousin, the daughter of Daemon Targaryen. Months later, the war breaks out and surprising news of his child being born reaches him soon after returning to Dragonstone to say his final goodbyes to Luke.

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, arranged marriage trope, Targcest (Cousins)

so short I do not know why my F!Reader stuff ends up being short

~~~

A million thoughts raced through Jace's head as Vermax descended through the clouds and the ancient castle of Runestone came into view, nestled by the water and essentially isolated by the rural landscape expanding in nearly all directions. His heart raced faster than his mind and his orders for Vermax twisted on his tongue but his dragon nonetheless understood the urgency in his tone and tucked his wings closer toward his body, plunging the both of them toward the ground at a higher speed before expanding them once more and gliding closely over the vibrant grass. 

It'd only been two days since Jace received the shocking news flown in by raven revealing his lady-wife, Princess (Y/N), had given birth to his child a month prior. The surprise on his face had no doubt been comical when Maester Gerardys awkwardly read the contents of the letter at the meeting and remained standing in silence as Rhaenyra and everyone else took in the startling news. 

There'd been no word from Runestone, not since (Y/N) had sent a letter detailing an illness to explain her absence from attending alongside them while the claim to Driftmark was disputed. At the time, Jace had shrugged it off and dismissed Baela's insistence that he tend to his wife. They hardly enjoyed each other's company so he saw no use in visiting her and causing her further strife, but now as he watched Runestone grow closer and closer, he kicked himself for not heeding Baela's words. 

Their presence roused the dragon sleeping near the castle and the shriek from her forced Vermax to slow down. His dragon responded to the call and diverted course toward her, flapping his wings until his speed slowed further. He landed near the she-dragon and lowered himself onto the ground with a quiet chirp. Jace carefully climbed down and landed firmly on his feet, instinctively tugging off his riding gloves and eyeing the bemused she-dragon who seemed half-tempted to burn them both.

"Sagon gīda, Starlight," Jace called, swallowing down the fear that bubbled in him as he began walking toward the path she conveniently rested beside. Starlight huffed a cloud of smoke at him and squinted her emerald eyes at him, her head following him until he reached the gates of Runestone. 

"Prince Jacaerys," An older man he recognized as Gerold Royce greeted him when the gates opened, bending at the waist. "Our Princess of Runestone has been expecting your arrival, My Prince. She awaits you in the nursery. Come this way, if you please."

The nursery.

Jace nearly stumbled over his feet at those mere words, luckily catching himself before he made a fool of himself before men who eyed him with disdain. He knew of the Royce's dislike for Daemon Targaryen (especially after the supposed murder of Rhea Royce) but he never expected it to extend to his family and himself. Still, he kept his head held eye and one hand on the hilt of his sword as he followed Gerold into the castle. 

"I was not aware of Princess (Y/N)'s... condition."

Gerold glanced back at him. "We know." 

A familiar rush of anger spread through him like spilled water. He gritted his teeth and inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring. "Why was I not informed sooner? I may be young but I am no fool; I know pregnancies may last up to eight or nine moons." He tried restraining his simmering anger. He knew very well how loyal the man was to his blood. 

"Our Lady desired a peaceful pregnancy, My Prince. She did not wish to be disturbed or bothered during such delicate times." Gerold explained simply and Jace allowed himself a brief scowl before he wiped it off his face once they came upon a guarded door. 

Stepping inside, Jace's eyes were instantly drawn to the crib in the center of the room and then to his wife seated near it. She looked away from the crib at their presence and sighed quietly, sipping the last of her tea before she set it aside and rose. (Y/N) exhaled deeply, her nose crinkling and her hand pressing near her back to massage the flesh. Jace spared Gerold a glance and walked forward toward her, extending an arm to offer his support but she stopped him and waved him off. 

"You may leave us, Cousin. Thank you." She told the older man, offering him a brief genuine smile that promptly disappeared when he left. 

Jace finally noted her appearance up close. She looked exhausted, as was usual of mothers after labor. The bags under her (E/C) eyes were noticeable through her powdered skin and she'd discarded her usual dresses for a simple thing gown that showed her belly still full from the pregnancy. He knew from his time in the Keep that most women differentiated from each other; some, like Dowager Queen Alicent, were able to lose the weight gained during pregnancy fairly quickly whilst others, like his mother, retained it for some time.

A gurgled coo brought his attention down toward the crib and he finally looked upon the baby. "Oh.." He shakily whispered when he noticed the head full of brown hair with silver streaks through it, strands that curled subtly at the ends just as his once did before he got older. Small, frail, and so beautiful. His child. His. He hummed forcibly when tears abruptly sprang to his eyes. "What- What is their name?"

"His name is Valerion."

"A boy?" Jace breathlessly questioned, his head snapping back toward her with widened eyes. "A- A son?" An heir.

He looked back at the little being happily dozing and his heart twisted into itself, cautious steps bringing him closer to the crib. He reached out tentatively and carefully took him into his arms. Valerion stirred in the golden bundle he'd been wrapped into and parted his eyes to peer up at him, blinking sleepily and sighing before his eyes closed again to doze off. Jace chuckled and leaned down, nuzzling his nose against Valerion's forehead. 

"Your grandmother will be pleased." He whispered and drew back, carefully bouncing his arms as he'd once seen his mother do with Joffery. "A perfect little dragon. You shall be given an egg soon enough. Silverwing has recently laid a clutch and one shall be yours, little one. Once we return to Dragonstone-"

"Valerion and I will remain here in Runestone until further notice." (Y/N) cut in swiftly and his brows knitted together. "Runestone is a safe castle, Jacaerys. If the enemy comes, they will be seen before they can come close and dealt with. I am in no state to travel and neither is he at such a young age. He will see Dragonstone and the Keep after the war." 

"I cannot stay here, (Y/N). I am needed in Dragonstone to serve alongside my mother, you know this. You will heal in time, and it will be much better if you do so under the care of Maester Gerardys. He will be safe-"

(Y/N) scoffed. "Your mother was nearly slain in her own bedchambers and the Greens are merely a short flight away from the island. I will not risk my child's life, Jacaerys. It is your duty to serve on Dragonstone, it is mine to serve here. Runestone is my castle and my responsibility to protect it, just as it is my responsibility to protect my son." She spoke, tone full-on authoritative and eyes challenging. 

Jace stared at her in disbelief and grounded himself enough to delicately place Valerion back in his crib before he faced her. "Was this all part of your plan to alienate me as much as possible from my child? We have not spoken since our wedding night nearly a year ago and you remained silent on your pregnancy. I could have been here to see him enter this world. I should have been here- No, you should have been in Dragonstone." 

"You are a fool if you believe you would have been any help. You would have hovered like a bothersome fly and questioned every single thing as if you had any idea what a pregnancy is like. I remained here in Runestone with my family and I delivered a healthy boy with the help of Maester Corrad and the midwife. This child is Royce as much as he is Targaryen. If you were to pass in battle-"

"Is that what you hope?" Jace bristled as he spat words laced with accusation. "Do you wish for me to pass in battle so that you may rid yourself of this marriage? We made vows, oaths, in the name of the Seven or have you forgotten? We have duties to one another, regardless of our desires, and we are bound to each other. This child is mine as much as he is yours. He needs his father. We do not know how long this war will rage on and I will not allow him to see me as a stranger." 

(Y/N) released a sigh and lowered herself down onto the cushioned seat, resting her arms over her belly and watching him. "Then, you may visit as you have done today." She said simply and he scoffed again. "You believe because you are Crown Prince that your duties are more important than mine but if I recall only one of us currently rules and it is not you, Jacaerys. I have ruled Runestone since my flowering at the age of eleven whilst you spent your days tormenting Aemond One-Eye, being spoilt and coddled endlessly by your mother, and trailing after the Velaryon girl like a fool."

His face flushed with embarrassment and anger and he took a glance at his son to ease the bubbling emotions threatening to spill over. Jace inhaled deeply and squeezed his eyes, releasing the air and forcing his tense body to relax. He stepped forward and unclasped his sword's holster before bending his knee in front of her. He set the sword aside and reached forward to take her hands into his.

"I understand." He murmured. "I do, I truly do. I understand your concerns and- and I will try to find a compromise that will please us both. I do not wish to fight before our son but I ask of you, as your lord-husband and father of your child, to consider my side of things. I know we have been far from a happy couple and I will admit my feelings for Baela have not left entirely.. but I am willing to change. For you. For him."

[the-fiction-witch]

I Like Him

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 12 Word Count - 1121

Requested -

Hello Miss Witch! Can I request an Oscar Tully story in your “Boys Yet To Have Books” please? The reader is a Targaryen (probably just the same age as him and named Jaerra) and has a he-dragon, she flew to Harrenhal to accompany Daemon and then met Oscar and just some cute interactions between them that grew into something. It’s up to how you will write it and can have lots of parts too because I will love it either way. I hope you read this request. Thank you! <33

The dark echos of Harrenhal seem to sicken Daemon the longer he remains, food seems to turn to ashes in his mouth, wine soured, his mind a mess of his own failings and falls.

“I’m surrounded, by witches, and idiots.” He sighed to himself,

Suddenly a familiar sound echoes through Harrenhal’s half-melted halls, the sound of a dragon's triumphant cry. Which caused Daemon to perk up and move quickly for the first time in months. He headed out to the courtyard part of him hopeful to see Syrax across the sky, or perhaps even MoonDancer.

But a deep blue dragon with shimmering white scales fluttered down onto the grass,

“Iēdar lilagon…” he sighed, He approached the dragon glaring down at its rider, “Why did she send you?”

“Because you're causing chaos on your own,” Jaerra answered as she climbed down from her dragon, wearing her tall boots and grey washed-out leather trousers, a deep blue jacket with a high low skirt and dragon clasps down her chest, her long Targaryen blonde hair with a single dark brown streak by her face knotted up into a tight braid.

“I already have enough to deal with,” He sighed,

“Hence why I’m here.” She said pulling off her leather gloves and walking past him, “You’ve been causing enough problems around here, so she thought I’d be best to come. Plus everyone else is far too busy to be your babysitter.”

“Busy!” He said as he followed her,

“Her grace is busy, planning wars and alliances,”

“And what does she think I’ve been doing!”

She rolled her eyes and continued, “Jacaerys is defending his claim at her side -”

“Baela and Rheana?”

“Baela is beside her betrothal, as she should be. Rheana is with Aegon and Viserys in the Vale.”

He sighed, “I’d have taken Corlys before you.”

“He is of far to high priority.” She glared, “You get me. If you’d have been more careful I wouldn’t be needed and I could be patrolling.”

“So that’s what she’s got you doing? Patrolling?”

“Ravens are slow, men even slower. Dragonback is the best way to get sights of our lands and the movements on them.” She explained, “Speaking of which, the riverlords are here.”

“They haven’t-”

“They haven’t arrived yet but they will in an hour, I flew over them.” She answered before she went inside,

“...Fucking-” He sighed following her, “We have an hour, time to change into a gown for the Riverland lords.”

“Alright,” She shrugged, “Off you go, to get dressed.” She glared,

“I meant you.”

“Seems a waste of my time.” she sighed, “We are at war, gowns seem pointless at this point,”

“You are … so much of your mother,” He barked,

She chuckled, “Is that meant to insult me?” She smiled, “I’d rather be a spitting image of my mother… than anything like you.” she spat, “Now let's get this sorted out before we all end up on spikes in Kings Landing.”

Daemon sat at the head of the table in Harrenhalls Grand chamber, Jaerra to his side with two seats between them, as in walked the Lord of the river lands. Jaerra raised an eyebrow given this was not the man from the many lords she saw from Dragonback whom she expected to be the lord. Lord Oscar Tully made his way in dressed in his fine amour, curls messy from his helmet. He simply nodded as a greeting to Daemon and his eyes flicked to Jaerra, he did a double take but focused his eyes forward.

“My condolences on the passing of your grandser.” Daemon spoke, “But the crown congratulates you on your ascension to the head of your house. And Lord Paramount of the Riverlands” He explained, “Truly Glorious well done,”

“I did nothing,” Oscar answered,

“Nevertheless, you are here which is the important thing.” Daemon nodded,

“You were quick enough to dismiss me before.”

“You were of no significance to me then.”

Jaerra sighed, rolling her eyes a little.

“Now. I shall have my great host you have a decision to make.” Daemon stood from his chair mostly to avoid the eyes of Jaerra, “Presume it is clear to you which is the right one.”

“You will forgive me, your grace… I am green. In this sort of matter. As you so kindly point out, but it does seem to me that you’ve made rather a mess here.” Oscar explained making sure to meet Daemon's eyes as he walked around him, “Countenancing barbarities in the queen's name.”

Jaerra choked back a small laugh but made no secret of her smile, as she rested her feet on the table,

“Who’s side are you on?” Daemon glared the boy down,

“... The river lands are held together by oaths.” Oscar nodded, “House Tully swore on oath to King Viserys Targaryen, We recognize the authority of the named heir Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen… And your own as her king consort.”

“Good.” Daemon nodded, “Then we should go to face your vassals and you shall call your banners to war,”

“That might be difficult my king,”

“Well… I was told they would come to heal When house tully declared it’s allegiance.”

“That… may be the case,” Oscar nodded, “But it is yet to be seen that they will heed my authority, as young as it is.”

“You are no older than my daughter.” Daemon chuckled as his eyes met Jaerra,

“... I’d further follow her than you.”

“Power and control don’t have an age. Merely a mindset.” Jaerra smiled,

Oscar nodded to her, “And there is another problem… they all hate you.” he turned back to Daemon,

“Everyone hates him.” Jaerra spoke up again, “Never stopped him before.”

“I don’t need their love, I need their swords.” Daemon glared,

The two in a deep moment of staring before the door opened,

“You’re grace, My lord, the river lords await. I fear we cannot delay them any longer.”

“Of course,” Daemon nodded, “Come along lord Oscar,”

Oscar nodded and walked out hand on his sword,

“You too.” He demanded to Jaerra,

She sighed setting her feet down on the stone floor and made her way out the door, but turned around as she passed Daemon walking backwards out the door, “I like him.”

“You would.” he glared, forcing her out with him.  

[fillinforlater]

Phone Part 10: Return of the Angel +3

Male Reader x Kim Minju, Yeh Shuhua, Jung Eunbi (Eunha), Hwang Eunbi (SinB)

Length: 1550 words

Tags: strap-ons, lesbian sex, spitroasting, double penetration, overstimulation, loveless sex, voyeurism, watching, fingering thigh riding

TW: messy crazy bs

(A/N: this series randomly returns because I just needed to get this idea out of my system for good. This might be the conclusion to it, but probably not... well, maybe you send me some ideas to where this could lead up to.)

"I'll get going."

Bomi kisses your cheek, that sore cheek, sore like every patch of your skin, every bone in your body and every damn muscle, some of them you didn't even know could hurt before today. Hell, you don't even have the strength to give Bomi a proper goodbye, a weak wave is all you can muster up.

She'll not be mad at you. For what might have been either 15 or 150 minutes, you have taken turns on her and Shuhua's pussy—licking, fingering, fucking them until those tight caverns each got a big load in them. In the meantime, Minju has been their plaything. Especially Shuhua has this cruelty towards her "friend", edging her with fingers, reddening her thighs with extremely hard slaps and always promising that she'll get your cock—just to claim you with her pussy again.

You turn around when Bomi closes the door. Shuhua and Minju wrestle on the couch, the latter clearly outmatched when Shuhua puts her in a headlock with her thunder thighs. Minju tries to escape with licks on Shuhua's clit but can't find it—the nightmare of so many guys.

"Cut it out, you two," you groan, fingers on your temple. 

"N-no," Minju whines. "Minju still needs cock, wants cum in her tummy!"

"I can't." Point at your limp dick, absolutely spent. "And I have a headache. At this point, I’ll start to hate sex. Fucking hell, I'll make myself tea."

"Oh, I have an idea," Shuhua smirks and reaches for her phone while you leave for the kitchen. Whatever it is, you don’t want to deal with it. You need something relaxing, something herbal, to heal all the soreness in your body. It’s incredible to think that there is something like too much sex. You’re really close to giving up on it, even though two nymphomaniacs have turned your house into sex hub.

“No, no, stay down. You’ll get cock soon,” you hear Shuhua belittle Minju, who just whines in her usual tone. She seems to not be a bit tired after all this.

“Well, it won’t be mine,” you shout back, watching the hot water fill your cup and turn the leaves into something magical.

“Yeah, I know, you’re basically useless at this point.” Ouch, that stings. “That’s why I called back up.”

“You what?!”

“They should be here any minute now.”

Shuhua is spot on. Before your tea is finished steeping, your door bursts open. But instead of a hung man, two rather petite women enter your house. Both have a bored look on their face and immediately get to undressing. Overcoats seem to be the shit right now, and no matter who comes through your front door, they always drop it on the floor. 

“Uhm, hello?” you carefully greet them before remembering that this is your home, your kingdom! You can’t let strangers just walk in like they own the place. “This is kinda rude, you know?”

“Don’t care,” says the taller one with long, raven hair, dressed only in jeans. “We have business to do. Also, it’s rude to just stand there, naked, while two ladies walk in.” You blush and hide your crotch with the tea cup.

“We aren’t ladies, stop kidding yourself,” the other snarks back, while climbing out of her skirt. “I bet he is a good fuck, you shouldn’t kill your chances already.”

“Eh, I’ll think about it, but first—” Both girls suddenly pull out two strap-ons from God-knows-where and put them on with the casualness one would wear a fricking hat. The taller one hasn’t even removed her jeans, wearing the harness over it, while the other is fully naked and flaunts her butt at you.

“Yeah, I know, we got shit to do.” The short haired girl slaps her butt and you almost drop the cup when she walks past you with a wink. “Shuhua, where is this needy bitch? Or are you the needy bitch?”

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, Eunbi and Eunbi,” Shuhua greets them and points at Minju, still trapped in between her fat thighs. “Look who I found.”

“She is insatiable. Incredible that he can still stand,” the shorter Eunbi says.

“Hm, maybe he is a good fuck. Anyways, we’ll try our best to keep her down,” the taller Eunbi says. The three conspirators try to agree on a strategy on how to fuck the angelic girl. You’ve become invisible in your own house, your entry to the living room goes largely unnoticed. Except for Minju who pouts at you when the two Eunbis lift her up and put her in a doggy position. The shorter one is below her, the other is ready to press the plastic cock into Minju’s puckered hole.

"Should we do it at the—nevermind, you're already in." The small Eunbi groans in annoyance, the other looks unapologetic and starts to rut slowly against Minju's butt. The long shaft forcing open Minju’s hole, paired with the denim on her sore, pink buttocks, must feel incredible and incredibly painful at the same time. Who knows which of the two makes Minju wail and moan more.

"Come on, Eunha, shove it in her sex," Shuhua urges on the Eunbi below as she excitedly stares at the unholy sight of fake cocks on ready holes. Her eyes mimic the camera lens for a porn shoot, while you're the director, watching the scene play out. Either way, it's good content.

"Minju's pussy, Minju's ass, so full!" Minju is loud, louder than before. Shuhua is having none of it.

"Shut up. SinB, make her stay quiet. And don't let her cum."

Two hands move to cover Minju's mouth, two cocks move in and out at a rapid pace, two sets of eyes watch on in awe. Satisfied with what crazy madness she has come up with, Shuhua sits down next to you and lazily jerks your cock with two fingers. Oh, that victorious smile, glassy, lewd eyes, you'd love to wipe it off her face.

"You like what you see? Now you don't have to do anything anymore."

"What was that about me being useless?" Grab her by the throat and spit in her face. She looks pissed, you love it. "I came in you, even when Minju was willing to do anything to get my load and now you're still cruel to her? Seems mildly unfair."

"And what are you gonna do about it? Fuck her, if you can."

Shuhua is bratty, but just as much as she is bratty, she is also light. You easily place her nude frame on your thigh, her still dripping, creaming heat right on your skin. She hisses and you tighten your grip on her throat.

"I'm going to make you cum—you know I can, it's super easy—but only if you tell those two friends of yours to make Minju cum until she passes out.”

“Fuck, bastard,” Shuhua hisses. With your thumb on her clit, this is easily the quietest and tamest she has been for hours. Her body twitches, an honest reaction to how much she is addicted to the mind-blowing orgasms you can get out of her. Such a small finger, yet she is squirming, contemplating, faltering.

“Those two are so cruel,” you tell Shuhua, nose deep in her greasy hair. “They fuck her so hard, just to pull out at the last moment. Why do you want to torture Minju so bad?”

“Be-because she needs to get to the-the point.”

“What point?”

“The point where sex is no fun. She can go forever. She will never stop, your—fuck—plan to make her p-pass out, useless.”

This explains a lot. The Angel is insatiable, her lust seems infinite, but Shuhua’s plan—won’t it make things worse? At some point, SinB and Eunha will have to stop and Minju will be more desperate than ever. She will wobble through the house, tackle you the second she sees you and will force your cock in her pussy no matter what. A true tragedy.

“Well, I don’t care,” you say and tug at one of Shuhua’s nipples, she bites her fingers. “You’ve been too greedy, time for her to—”

“Fuck, fine.

“SinB, don’t hold back. Eunha, suck her tits, overstimulate this bitch!”

“What?” the two ask in unison and disbelief.

“Do-don’t ask questions, please, just do it!”

The way the two purple plastic cocks move in and out of Minju with the sole goal of too much pleasure has you satisfied and in a new heat, your cock hardening slowly but surely. With an ever increasing rhythm, you move your thigh up and down and Shuhua starts to ride, her loudness increasing again. She is as close as Minju and it only takes SinB pulling those messed up oak strands, you to rub Shuhua’s clit, for them both to explode. 

You focus not on Shuhua shuddering, shaking on you, but at Minju’s expression. Her eyes jump wide, then tears shoot out and flow down, just to be blocked by SinB’s hands on her mouth. She’d be so loud, words messier than her hair would fill the room. After this peak, both collapse. Shuhua meets the floor, Minju falls on top of Eunha, who still thrusts, even spanks the Angel’s ass. 

You’re hard again. Where is this going to end?

[xaphrin]

@carnationmilk

Slow, Stairs, Lap

Damian felt a smile pull at his lips as he chased her through the hallways of Wayne Manor. He could smell the scent of her soap hanging in the air. Raven ducked through the halls, her powers sparking behind her as her low laugh echoed over the antique wood paneling. Excitement coursed through him, the chase burning his blood like fire to gasoline. 

He closed in on her and reached out, wrapping his hand around her wrist, only to feel her phase from between his fingers. Damian frowned, but followed the shadow of her through the halls, chasing that high that she offered. 

Finally she stopped halfway up the stairs, her dark eyes watching him as he skidded to a halt at the bottom stair. Raven hovered above him, a flicker of mischief in her eyes. With a teasing smile, she let the heavy weight of her velvet cloak drop to the floor, leaving her in nothing more than shadows and promises of sin. 

“I’m done running.” Her feet touched the soft, carpeted stairs and she stepped down. “Are you ready to claim your prize, my hunter?”

Damian snorted at the tease, and he ripped off his shirt, dropping it next to him. “Am I worthy of a prize, my prey?” He climbed a few steps to where she stood, letting his hand trail up the gentle indent of her stomach. “Are you offering yourself up as a sacrifice? Without running anymore?” 

“I am.” She moved around him, pushing him against the stairs. Damian fell back, catching his body on the slope of the staircase. He looked up into her eyes as Raven straddled his hips. “I am offering myself to you.” Her hand rested on his chest, and she pushed him back onto the stairs with a slow smile. “Are you going to take what I offer?”

Damian felt his heart skip beats as her fingers slid down his chest, following the line of hair that disappeared into his pants. He tilted his chin up and met her eyes from underneath the shadow of his lashes with a smirk. “I will take anything you offer me, my love.” His hand tangled in her hair and he pulled her down over him. “You may think you’re a sacrifice, but I assure you that you hold my soul in your hands.”  

He could see her breath catch in her chest and she leaned over him, capturing his lips in a slow, leisurely kiss. Damian’s hand tightened in her hair, and he groaned as he felt her unfasten his pants and take his cock out. Her cool hands wrapped around the heat of his length and she pumped a few times before lifting her hips and spearing herself on him. Damian’s breath escaped a desperate rush and he sat up, his hands digging into her hips as he drew her down onto his lap. 

“Are you trying to steal my breath too?” Raven murmured against his lips. “You already have my heart.”

“I love you.” Damian pushed his hips up and drew her down, setting a slow almost leisurely pace. Moonlight filtered through the windows casting them both in a silver glow. Time stopped, and the world stilled outside of his moment. In this moment, it was everything he wanted - Raven, wrapped around him, in his arms. “Slow…” He whispered into her ear. “Go slow. Let me enjoy this moment. Let me enjoy you.”

[fruity-mega-coconut69]

Both of Them?

[pairings]: wenclair x normie!reader

[summary]: You realize you have fallen for not one, but two outcasts. What are you gonna do now?

[warnings]: swearing, author is unexperienced

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

You were never the person who was into relationships, if you ever were in one, it never lasted long. You always either got bored or the affection was too much for you to handle.

So when you started to feel butterflies in your stomach every time you saw a certain raven-haired girl come into the library of Jericho, claiming that there are no books left in the school library that she is interested in, you were freaking out.

You didn't want for her to turn out like the other people you had liked, they always ended up to be heart-broken or just simply didn't like you back.

And just when you thought that you would never have to see her again, because she hadn't been to the library in nearly a month, she shows up again with a bubbly, blonde-haired girl by her side.

At first you were jealous, but then one day Enid ( you heard Wednesday say her name once or twice) noticed and decided to talk to you, which included talking to Wednesday.

You three quickly became bestfriends, even though she never showed it, Wednesday cared about you too. And what started with you all being friends it ended in you falling for both of them.

You felt guilty, but you really should have seen it coming. You were known to have crushes on your friends and you didn't know why. Not all of them at once and almost never from you group of friends, just a not so close one. They ever only lasted around 8 months or a year, if you didn't confess.

So when after all the Crackstone shit, you still had strong feeling for both of them, you decided to tell one of your closest friend.

" You what?! " She shouted after you told her. " Wait, wait. Let me get this straight, you fell for an outcast? " you nod " And then, that outcast got a girlfriend? " you nodded slowly " Then you fell for that outcast too?! "

" Yep, that's what happened "

" Bitch, i don't know how you did that, but okay. " She said after a moment of silence.

" what do you think i should do? " you asked.

" you should definitely tell them, see what happens. " She said, sitting down on her bed.

" Okay. if you say so" You say hesitantly before sitting down next to her. Getting ready to watch a movie.

---

Considering you were a 'normie' you never got the chance to hang out in Wednesday and Enid's dorm. But one day Enid had asked you to sneak into their dorm so you all could have a movie night and you agreed.

To say that they forgot about it was kind of an understatement. When you climbed up onto their balcony and tried to get in through the window as quietly as possible you didn't expect to see Enid and Wednesday kissing furiously on Enid's bed. You were practically frozen to the spot. You didn't know what to do. When you slowly came back to reality, you saw that they had yet to notice you. You quickly went back out onto the balcony and climbed back down from it.

" Hey! " You heard a voice behind you.

You slowly turned around to see a boy in a beanie and a girl with black hair and glasses ( which she took off pretty quickly) " Who are you and what are you doing here? " The girl shouted over the sound of the heavy rain, that you hadn't even taken notice of.

" H-Hey, i mean no harm! I-i just came here to-to see a friend of mine " You smiled awkwardly at them while wrapping your arms around yourself.

" Friend of Wednesday or Enid? " The boy asked.

" Both?"

" Both?! " The girl chuckled slightly under her breath " okay, then come with us. It's freezing out here." She slowly took you arm and started walking inside.

" YN " You say quietly.

" Huh? "

" My name, YN" You repeated.

" oohh, well I'm Yoko and this is Ajax "

"cool"

" So, you a normie? " Ajax asked you as you all arrived to, what you assumed, their dorm (just pretend they are roommates ).

"uh, yeah. I know Wednesday and Enid from the public library in Jericho, "you said after you went inside with them.

" and what did you want in their dorm? " Ajax asked as he sat down on his bed and signaled for you to copy him.

"well, uh they invited me over for a movie night, but i guess it's canceled now" you say as you blush slightly.

" Why - " Ajax said before he was cut off by Yoko slapping the back of his head " Aw, why did you do that? "

She just rolled her eyes and shrugged " you are just really dumb sometimes " she says as she had now changed clothes and looked ready to go somewhere " I'm staying at Divina's tonight. You can sleep in my bed. "

" Why would you let a stranger sleep in your bed? "you asked, blinking a couple of times.

" Any friend of Enid's is my friend too " Smiled at you before walking out and closing the door behind her.

" Well, if that's the saying then here " Ajax handed you some clothes " you can use these are mine and clean " He grinned proudly.

You took the clothes and went to change in the Bathroom. After you changed you went to Yoko's bed and laid down, feeling a little uncomfortable sleeping in someone else's bed " Good night " you heard Ajax say from the other side of the room and looked over, seeing him just sitting in the corner of his bed, wrapped in his blanket with his phone in his hand as he turned of the lamp on his bedside table.

" Night "

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

pt. 2?

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |II| Pirate!Eddie au

summary: as the daughter of the Governor, there is quite a heavy prize set on your safe return home, and the captain will not let anything come between him and his bounty.

Series Masterlist

word count: 5.7k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. heavy scarring and wounding. minor character death. allusions to suicide, depression and trauma. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. pirates are pigs: frequent mentions of non-con and allusions to assault, but it does not actually occur. malnourishment. abuse. manhandling.

There might be a mention of other ST characters, and for plot's sake, everyone is an adult here, just coz I don't want fetus pirates running around, but they are not really relevant to the plot.

Chapter 2: Asphodel "Because you and I are alike, and there will come a moment when you have a chance to show it." - Elizabeth Swann, Pirates of the Caribbean 

Despite gaining the privilege of an open cage and access to the rest of the ship, you decided against this freedom… and in a way, that was all the freedom you could ask for, wasn’t it? To choose where to go or where to stay. The restrictions were only so far as anyone else on this ship. The uncharted waters kept you all at the bay of the plank. 

But perhaps there was a part of you was scared to go beyond what had now become your own piece of the ship, a safety blanket among the ravenous snake pit. It was not even a question. You could just tell by how you closed your cell door at the sound of footsteps approaching down the ladder towards you. These men were wild and unpredictable. You could never expect what they would do once with you. The distance was the only option. 

Perhaps not so free as the rest, after all. 

Yet. 

Because you would fight it. All of them. Make your presence known and show everyone you were not like any other they had snagged off a ship. You assumed there had been more, after all. More prisoners, more girls to take advantage of. The shackles hanging down from the wall in your cell, stained red with rust and blood, were proof enough of what once occurred below deck. 

Despite being the safest place you could be in, it still was a nightmare on Earth to spend your days there, among the crates and chests filled with stolen treasures, supplies, and whatever else was deemed worth the same amount of treatment as you. Everything had been stacked mindlessly, dropped at the earliest convenience, and items only moved to make a short path to your holding cell. The disorganisation and thoughtlessness around you had been a bittersweet nuisance. You could not stand it, but at the same time, it was nice to have something so trivial on your mind as the lacklustre distribution of goods around the ship. 

Clearly, no one cared about what was going on. No one spent enough time there to notice anything, besides you, of course. The only times someone climbed those steps were to bring you your meals or to bring more storage in. So what harm would it do to you put some order to it? 

It wasn’t much, but you had created a way to pass the long hours aboard. And it was pleasant, though exhausting. With the food you were given, your energy was not what it once used to be, and the first thing to go when not feeding the body properly is the muscle. Moving the larger items took a while, but you saw a positive outcome. By taking everything slowly, you had no fear of completing your task soon. It was a never-ending activity. Tiring but something for you to do, and most importantly, keep your mind too occupied with the straining work ahead rather than the larger picture of your current circumstances. 

A part of it was also an attempt at claiming your territory. Lifting large boxes was doing the trick when it came to letting out your anger and frustrations, too, a way to channel everything into the peculiar renovation. A point to focus on something physical, something you could control, instead of your emotions and everything going on around you. 

A few days since you began doing so, things started making sense. But, most importantly, no one who ever came down there seemed to notice or care what you were doing. Besides the food they had to feed you to keep you alive, there was little interest they seemed to have for your existence.

You found many other objects that they must have considered rubbish, but you could use them just fine. Like the old sails, or what you assumed were scraps of an old torn sail, folded up in a corner. It was such a large piece of material that you tied it up to the corners of your barred walls, creating a curtain that gave you some privacy. Most of the chests around you were locked, giant padlocks handing down from the cover, the keys most likely at the bottomless pit of the ocean along to their original owners. But some were shut, and of course, you poked a peak inside with interest. 

Some were empty, and some had scrolls of paper, which you took up as light reading for early mornings when the sun hit through the windows just right, giving you a bright light source. There were captain logs and maritime routes; letters never sent, and maps never finished. 

One caught your attention, and you read the most on those drabby mornings when nothing else could make you feel alive. This one particular letter, which you could only assume was intended for a young woman from her lover, kept your heart beating and your hopes of escaping this ship alive. At least the parts of it that you had managed to find, for the parchment was ripped to pieces, the last chunk still missing among the piles of items you were roaming through. 

By now, you had read it so many times you didn’t even need the paper to recite it. 

My dearest,  The nights have been cruel, but I spend them thinking of you, and suddenly, the dark sky does not feel so heartless anymore. I think of your eyes. The sea reminds me of them— it is a calming sight each morning, and I imagine you looking out of your window at the shore, and perhaps we look up at the same clouds, and it is like you are right by my side and the wind feels not as harsh suddenly. More like a kiss straight from your lips. Some days I hum the words of that song you sang to me. I know what you have said about my voice, and the kind words still warm my heart, but it will never compare to yours. I will never do the melody justice. Only you… 

There certainly was something about the love you felt seeping through each word you read and reread. It almost put you down into this state of calmness as it looped in your mind in the evening, letting you fall asleep. 

It was another evening like all the others before it. Your dinner had been served in silence. If you had not known better, you would have assumed all men had taken an oath of silence, never to speak again, but it was evident the quiet was only limited to you. As you felt the slumber climb over you, the deck was alive and well. 

The contrast between living aboard the Hellfire at night and day could not be more than that. While the sun was up, the boots fell heavy above your head, fatigue coming over them as the work had to be done. The crew did what they could to keep the boat afloat and sailing on. As much as the deep waters could be a calming sight to some, it was absurd that there could be nothing around you but water for days. Undoubtedly, the ship must reach a harbour quickly; provisions could only be stored in the salt barrels for so long. The last time the boat reached shore must have been days before your cage door had opened. Then again, you knew what going ashore meant for the people like the Hellfire crew… and did not wish the aftermath upon your worst enemies. 

There would be fire, which you knew they adored. It came alive in spirit and light when the night sky appeared. When the work was done, and the sails smoothly let themselves be guided by the wind, you could always hear them walking above your cage, taunting their freedom with songs and tales. The ship was like a masquerade when the moon lit everything in her silver glow. It would have to be, or else the weariness and longing for land would take over. 

The songs were nothing special, typical shanties and hymns allured by a drunken chorus, singing the ballads of adventure and treasures, beautifully sombre. Yet, these moments made you believe that some humanity was left in them. Some kindness and compassion, too. A part that they would never dare show when the sun came up. 

It was as if the men aboard were two different people in one, where one side came out during the night and the other during the day. And you seemed to much prefer the nighttime sort. As, during the sun hours, the candles and lanterns went out, and with it, their souls were all back to their usual dirty selves. Their dark spirits would take over once more.

Either way, the nights were extended, as no sleep came to anyone. Not with the singing being so loud that it drilled into your ears. For them, slumber would come later and disappear quickly too, but no one seemed to mind. 

You had no way of telling the time on board, the only possible tell sign would be the sun's position, but even that was never exactly as you had barely any idea where in the world you were. All you could make out was that the crew made way for their hammocks in the small hours of the morning when the sun teased its appearance at the horizon, its glow awakening everything else but the drunken sailors that held you captive. 

The ship was asleep. The only sounds you could make were the waves smashing into the vessel and the gulls screeching in the distance. It was an opportunity. You could roam the deck unbothered. 

With a deep but shaky breath, you inhaled the salty sea air as you climbed the ladder, hands paling at your knuckles from your grip on it. The trapdoor opened with a creak, and you froze in your movements, waiting for the sound to have woken up everybody… but the silence resumed. You let out another deep breath and pushed the door open to reveal the sky, millions of stars looking down at you, but already fading as the sun appeared slowly. The dewy morning hours were dark but brighter than anything you had been surrounded with since your capture.

It had been getting colder by the day, and you already knew that by sitting in your cell. Soon enough, more than your dress would be needed for the climate you were entering. Shivers swarmed your arms at the wind blowing by. Your steps remained small and apprehensive as you needed help figuring out where to go. You had the entire ship deck to yourself for a short time. There was so much to explore above ground, but your legs automatically steered you towards the barriers of the ship.

You walked over to the ship's edge, letting your nails dig into the wood and your frustrations on the trim piece. Stand there, look at the horizon, and watch the sun slowly rise from under the water. The first sunrise you witnessed in weeks— at least not from the small window that peaked right over your head in your cell– had been a euphoric experience. Everything felt brand new. As your last attempts at peeking at the waves had resulted in painful flashbacks of your previous minutes aboard the Red Tail, now, you focused on the calm ripples of the water. No longer was the only thing you saw in the blue the blood of your long-lost friends. You saw their resting place. In the early morning, golden sun rays peeked out from the horizon, illuminating the drab grey of the waters like a liquid treasure hiding beneath the surface. You saw the waves moving along the ship sheepishly, back and forth. Calmly, sleepy, drifting away into the distance with each push of the boat and wind. It was slowly waking up, the sea, the earth. 

What would it dream of, you pondered. It must be lovely to be so at peace. 

If you closed your eyes and let the fresh golden light wash over you for long enough, you could fool yourself into oblivion. That you were somewhere else. A happy place.

It was so peaceful and quiet that the smallest of disturbances broke you out of your happy thoughts. You felt the presence from across the ship, his eyes on you, disintegrating your moment of bliss. But, of course, it could have been anyone, and you expected it to be one of the crewmates, one of the men with poor luck who had to start their work shift with the sun. 

Never, in a million years, did you imagine turning around and meeting with a pair of golden hazel eyes. Captain Munson was leaning against one of the masts, leg prodded against the wooden pole. He chuckled at the sight of your face, evidently struck with panic. How had he even reached the centre of the deck so quietly? Because… he could not have been standing there, or anywhere, all this time?

In one hand, he held an apple, and in the other, a small knife. He pressed the blade against the fruit’s skin and his thumb over it, cutting a small piece off. Then, still with the knife under it, he brought the apple slice to his lips. Never did his eyes leave yours as he ate. You felt unnerved with each move he made. You felt the need to look away, but for some reason, you simply couldn’t. It was like he was capturing you in a trance. So instead, you let your nails dig into the ship’s rail even more.

‘Do not let me disturb you, my darling,’ he eventually said and bode you farewell with a slight bow before parting ways. You were left stunned. Not sure what to say or do, you just turned back to look at the sea. It had no effect and felt like a sore loser's words, but you mumbled “Not your darling” under your breath. 

Had that been all? It was all extremely disorienting. Because, of course, he had meant to disturb you. He did so to your very core. That cold-eyed gaze opposed the actual warmth of his honey irises. It froze your blood. It spoiled everything about your morning. 

And as quickly he had appeared behind you, so quick the captain was to disappear out of your view again.  You looked around yourself for good measure, extending your neck to locker over the larger barrels standing in the corners of the deck, but he had genuinely evaporated into the early day’s mist. A phantom of the sea.

But just because he was gone didn’t mean his presence was. You still felt his eyes on you, lurking from hidden darkness. Perhaps the darkness was in your own head, inner thoughts poisoning your sanity, but the feeling remained nonetheless. 

Suddenly, the calm sea was anything but. Instead, the light sky seemed dull and grey, the waves bouncing off the ship aggressive. There was nothing peaceful about it left behind. There was nothing left for you there. But you remained steady in your place on the boat, looking out ahead at the horizon until the sun rising began to burn your eyes with its bright presence, and the wind blew harder. Only then did you decide, on your own devices, to head back down into the warmer discomfort of your enclosure. 

You lay on the ground and threw that thin fleece over yourself, hoping to fall asleep and thus pass on the rest of the day. But, if Lady Luck was on your side, it would be one of the silent dreams that asked nothing of you but your mind, leaving it as it was. In fact, letting you rest from the horrors that were your life.

And so, the sleep came, but quiet it was not.

Flashes of the Red Tail. Flames, explosions, blood, it was all around you. Men dying over and over again. You tried to scream out, reach for them, and help them, but it was as if your body was stuck in the mud, unable to move. So you just had to stand there, helplessly, as you watched everyone around you die.

The pool of blood expanded over the sinking ship. The sky turned dark, almost black. You looked up to see the sun–that same sun that kissed you welcome mere minutes ago at the horizon– melting, enveloping everything in darkness. Once you looked back down, another urge to scream came over you. 

A figure was standing not far from you, perhaps a few feet away. Covered in the blood that the ship was drowning in, from head to toe, he was basically dripping in it. 

He smiled at you, a canine-baring grin. Then, slowly but steadily, he neared you. 

“Oh, we’re going to have a lot of fun, princess, aren’t we?’

You awoke with a pitched scream. 

Breathing heavily, just trying to get your heart back on a steady rhythm, the clanking of swords echoing in your head was doing everything against it. Just like that day on the Red Tail. Just like in your dream. You could still hear it, and it felt so real. Each loud hit of metal against metal made you wince. Cannons would follow soon. Then the blood… 

But only the swords remained. It kept going and going. Then there were the footsteps. Heavy above you, making the whole ceiling shake. It felt like a stampede, in all honesty. And there was shouting. Boisterous clammer. Followed by crowded cheers and some clinking… that you could not immediately make out what it was supposed to be. 

One thing you knew for sure, however. Whatever was happening above you, it could not mean anything good. It simply reminded you too much of that other day. That first day… or was it your last?

There was a fight ongoing on the deck. The question was, what kind? Were you being attacked? Would another group of men come down the ladder steps and haul you onto another ship? Will they cheer over Munson’s death as these men cheered over Carver’s? Would this circle of hell ever end? 

No, it couldn’t be that. The cheering was too joyful and—was that laughter you could hear? Yes. Loud and boisterous. Right above your head. In a chorus. Your mind went to the evenings you had endured sleeplessly as the men jested until the sun rose, but when you looked out the window, you still saw the bright blue sky. So what was going on? 

Against your better judgement, you took a risk, all in the thought of showing initiative and how powerful you would look walking out of the trapdoor onto the full deck. You just told yourself that enthusiastic cheering was a sign of no evil. It indicated that it was no malicious attack of another ship, that whatever you would encounter, there would be nothing to be afraid of. With that confidence, you climbed up there, pushed the trapdoor up and– 

A blade wobbled back and forth as it deeply penetrated the deck's surface, inches away from your face. You held onto the edge of the floorboards, trying not to fall back down, as the scream that erupted from your lungs halted everything around you. Everybody in reach hooked his gaze on you if they weren’t fast enough to run up to the hole you were attempting to crawl out of. No one helped, of course. They just stared. Dozens of pairs of blank and cold eyes blinked arhythmically as the bodies they belonged to stood frozen in a circle, unsure of what to do next. The blade stuck in the wood still shifted in its new makeshift holster. 

Then, much like on your very first day aboard, the circle opened up to reveal the captain. He stood several feet away, and you caught him blinking slowly before approaching you. Had he been hesitant to approach? Was he, though you doubted, startled to see you?

But whatever emotion it had been to cause his hesitance, it was gone as he spoke:

‘Just in time, darling!’ The silence was broken, and so was the tension your appearance had created.

He had an almost identical sword in his hand. Behind him stood one of his crew mates, face paling despite the grimace he was trying to pull off among his peers. He must have been who the captain dramatically disarmed, ending with that sword landing and nearly cutting your nose off. Was anyone feeling guilty for putting that fear upon you? 

Highly unlikely.

The captain neared your trapdoor, leaning down on one knee and reaching his hand out to you, an attempt at some fair treatment toward; helping you get up onto the deck gracefully—you boldly refused. The idea of touching him… images your mind had conjured up in the night still pestered you and flashed past your eyes at the sight of his hand so near you. You looked away as your feet touched the deck for the second time that day. You hated the sight of him any given day, but this particular afternoon, it was even more of an unbearable sight.

The captain had abandoned his hat, opting to tie his hair with a red ribbon into a ponytail, failing to do so properly as strands were already escaping at the frame of his face. His long black coat and shirt also had been abandoned. It was a hot day, and with the training, he was most likely performing, the sweat on his chest was already forming, despite the cool breeze standing a strong fight with the sails. 

A ghastly sight, truly, the sweat that slicked over the countless prints of black ink on his arms, chest and ribs. The ink barely covered the various scars in the same placements. Some were small, like the nicks of a blade. The new bright red cut across his clavicle would surely join that collage. Others were unmistakably older but must have once been deep flesh wounds, possible gunshots, bites, or the results of things you most likely would not even be able to fathom. It looked like a visual of a life of torture.

You blinked, letting his previous words settle in your mind. ‘In time for what?’ You looked around. All eyes remained on you since you had made your presence known, something you had fallen out of habit with. You were not used to getting so much attention anymore.

‘Training, of course.’ Munson easily pulled the blade out of the ship planks, handing it to you. ‘Has anyone ever taught you how to fight?’

‘No.’ It was unladylike to swordfight, scuffle, argue, or do anything you did at the time of your capture. The heft felt awkward in your grip, clearly too big for your hand, but the entire piece felt off-balance. It must have been a homemade contraption of one of the Hellfire crew. Possibly molten out of the treasures residing downstairs with you. You adjusted your grip on the sword, but nothing felt right.

Nothing you did slipped past the Captain, whose eyes were on you and his crew. He pursed out his bottom lip in a mocking pout. 

‘A true pity.’ He swung his blade back and forth. Each swoosh in the air made you flinch. ‘maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have ended up here with us.’ The chuckle started deep within him but evolved into a guttural laugh from the whole crew. The sound boiled your blood in anger as well as embarrassment. You wanted to attack their captain immediately but knew it wouldn’t end well. He looked you up and down with his casual smirk, and you made it a point to, somewhat confidently, keep your head up. No longer could he think he could just do whatever he pleased with you. ‘But there is always time to learn, I believe.’

‘I don’t want to fight you,’ you simply stated, looking down at the longsword clutched in your hand. 

‘C’mon, princess,’ Munson swung his sword back and forth, ‘it’s no fighting. it’s just a bit of fun.’ 

‘I see no fun in useless acts of violence.’ Did any of your words sound profound? Confident? You were ready to hear another wave of laughter, but it did not come. The only response was a smirk of the captain, but not one you had seen before.

It wavered. 

‘Don’t be like that, my darling.’ He recovered with his mockery, but you were no longer having any of it. With large strides, you closed the gap between you two across the deck. The men around you were split in moving back or getting ready to seize you if the situation required interference. The captain was among the former group. His stance shifted backwards as you met him, your chest nearly hitting his. 

Your grip tightened on the sword, and he must have noticed it by how his eyes shifted down to your arm and back to your face. 

A million different things ran through your mind; there were endless possibilities for relieving your anger at the man standing before you, all being the catalyst of events that you did not dare start. What were you to do? 

Your nails dug into your hand as your fingers wrung the halt of the sword. With this object alone, you could do a hundred different things, most of which would result in only a worse situation for yourself. 

You struck the blade down with as much power as you could muster. Like it had hit the planks in front of your face moments before, it now missed the captain’s feet by mere inches. He looked down, never moving anything but his eyes, and then looked directly at you again. His features were blank of expression; no fear or anger, but no amusement either. 

‘Call me any of that again, and next time it won’t be the deck that gets it.’ You had dared to move closer, letting your faces nearly touch. That smell of cinnamon and rum greeted you again. A few seconds passed as you stood there, eyes piercing through one another. Your blood boiling, his chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths.

He did not respond.

Or at least not until you had turned to walk away. 

‘I would love to see you try. It sure is easy making empty threats, prin–’ but he never got to finish his mockery. Perhaps because it was even easier to sound confident behind one’s opponent’s back, not looking them in the eye, that angered you. The fact that the man who threw you in a cage was, in reality, nothing but a coward. At that moment, all regard for your safety escaped you as you turned back on your heel and lunged your fist towards his face. 

It must have hurt you more than him, but the pink mark across his cheek was established. You did not bother to await his reaction once more and walked away for good– as far as the circumstances allowed you, which was not far. The ship was only so big, and the circle of men had moved onto the trapdoor, locking you in the fresh afternoon air. 

They were ready to retaliate for your aggression towards their captain, but his words boomed across all ears. ‘Stand back! I said stand back,’ he repeated when some still tried to reach for you. You passed the crew and made for the spot you had become familiar with over the morning. Trying to ignore everything behind you, you again reached the ship’s edge. Their voices lingered over everything, impossible to block out, but you let yourself focus on the ripples in the water as your anger subsided. 

Not long now. You had already been so close to home when they took you, and it's been days. Surely, soon they would reach the shore of your home and give you back to your family. That idea somehow managed to overcome everything that was actually happening around you. 

Though you had slept through most of it, it had been a long day, and signs of it were showing in the sky. Now turning a soft pink and orange as the sun began to set once more, the night was coming. With it, the stars. Would you stay outside long enough to look at them? It had been a sight you had missed properly gazing at the millions of twinkling lives above you, the constellations and the stories they told. 

It would all depend on the men that had now resumed their sword-fighting practice. 

The casualness of it all was actually rather comforting, as it, for once, did not bring back memories of the unfortunate ship you had bid farewell to but rather the surroundings of your father’s estate. There, men like Admiral Carver were standing guard or practising, but also young boys and girls who ran away from their mothers, pretending to be on great little adventures with large twigs for weapons. For a moment, you could swear you could smell the fresh flowers that bloomed outside your bedroom window, or the spices haggled for at the market in the harbour. There were cats meowing and dogs barking. To think that once you had grown tired of it all, yearned for something new in life, but now could not imagine anything greater than a return home…

Who knew how long you had stood there staring at the darkening horizon. Your thoughts must have sent you off into the distance from the ship, as you had not realised anything happening around you. The sea was quickly becoming a comfort. When looking out at it, you did not have to face the cruel reality of the Hellfire and the people upon it. The waters seemed so inviting and freeing that you couldn’t help but think if maybe walking the plank wasn’t always a punishment… 

You had not even noticed the smile creeping up at the corners of your lips, but it never came to fruition as you were broken out of the spell. 

‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ the deep voice startled you, but you did not show it. In your short time aboard, and now being in actual contact with these scoundrels, there was one thing you had learned: To show fear to people like Munson, like the men on this ship, was possibly the stupidest thing a person like you could do. Letting fear control you would let them control you, playing right into their hand. Instead, display confidence and strength, which gets under their skin. 

You glanced over as much as you could without physically turning in his direction. His long dark hair messily flowed with the wind now that he had released it from the ribbon. He was looking directly at you, making you grow hot with anger. Then, subtly rolling your eyes, you looked away again, back to the waters. That, however, did not stop the Captain from speaking again.

‘A view like this makes you think of how big the world is. How small you are.’ He held his dagger again in his left hand, twirling it mindlessly between his fingers. He was standing so close that your arms were brushing against one another. His gold and silver chains jingled at the slightest of movements. You tried to focus on that instead of his words. A task that turned out to be much more challenging than you had thought, as the Captain did not enjoy your rejection. 

‘A bit of advice, princess,’ he leaned closer to you, his breath mixing with the wind. His nicknames for you would just have to lose their meaning in your head, as clearly, they were not going anywhere. ‘The silent treatment is not doing you any favours. On the contrary, my men like their girls quiet.’

‘Spare me, please,’ you hissed. 

‘Believe me,’ he responded as if he could read your mind, ‘finding yourself on our ship has spared you enough,’ he let his head hang lightly askew, looking up at you with his large eyes, bemused– you could tell you had lost his one-sided game by speaking up. Then you might as well keep going.

‘Is that a threat?’ Just a reminder that even when you were not locked in a cage, you were not truly free or safe. Their danger constantly loomed over you. 

‘Far from it, darling. I simply hope you know that there are much worse things out there,’ he leaned forward, forehead nearly touching yours as his hand reached out to the waters at your side to point at the waves with his blade. ‘You probably can’t even think up the horrors that live out in the wilderness of the oceans.’ What could he possibly know about your imagination? If only he knew that, at this specific moment, you were considering five different ways to gauge his honey eyes. 

You turned to him directly now. His stare at you was cold and focused. The mark you had left on his cheek was now also unavoidable. It called to you and anyone who looked at him like a beacon of a lighthouse. That smile of yours from seconds before threatened to come out again, but you held it in. However unbothered he might have sounded at the strike, you did not believe that could have been it. There must have been a reason for his current approach. What you had done in front of his entire crew was unacceptable and certainly not inconsequential–you could not imagine that he had not set a punishment ready for you. And whatever it would be, you doubted it would be subtle or free of pain. Yet, you reminded yourself of the freshly taught lesson. Keep your head up. Don’t show your fear. 

Not breaking eye contact, you decided to simply ask. 

‘What is it that you want from me?’ 

And the Captain did not waste a second in his response.

‘See me in my quarters, darling.’ 

-Chapter 3-

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

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taglist:

@nope-thanks @seventhlevelofhell @luna-munson83 @hangmanscoming @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @jaemunson70 @reading–mermaid

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[missaengg]

Sweet, Little Hondje

Day 22 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore found here Featuring: Ikemen Vampire | Theodorus van Gogh x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, alternate universe, omegaverse, breeding, p in v sex, alpha Theo, omega reader Prompts: Omegaverse/Breeding | “Here, bite into this. Since you can't stay quiet.” ao3 link here.

Lightning flashes across the night sky, quickly followed by the sharp crack of thunder. Thick, angry clouds hang lowly covering the fullness of the round moon. A lone figure strides down the corridor, briefly illuminated by the elusive flash of light before he is invisible once more in the blanket of darkness.

He walks with purpose, gripped by an insatiable hunger, no amount of food or drink able to quench his undeniable appetite.

It is breeding night.

A tight ache grows in his loins. He hastens his pace, driven by the need to release his seed, a primal urge overtaking the entirety of his being. He stops only when he reaches a door. Yours.

He slips in, the opening and closing of the heavy wooden door a whisper in the velvety cover of the stormy night.

His cock twitches as you stir. He takes you in, an ethereal vision of virgin fertility.

“Master Theo?” Your voice is quiet, threaded with the heavy tendrils of sleep’s embrace. You slowly sit up, resting your back against your pillow.

You’re an innocent, delectable sight, dressed in a white nightgown with your soft hair tumbling around your shoulders. Pure. Untouched. Unravaged.

Theo gracefully moves to the side of your bed, his footsteps silenced by the luxuriously plush carpet. The bed dips where he sits. He catches a wayward lock of your hair and tucks it behind your ear.

“Hondje,” he says, “you know what day it is.”

A pregnant pause fills the air, your eyes growing wide as the implication of his words clear away the last of the sleepy fog and settles in your brain.

“I do.”

The nervous waver in your voice is hard to miss, and only serves to add to the excruciating throb of his arousal, now too large for the constraints of its clothed prison.

“You are in heat,” he simply states, his eyes glowing in the inky darkness.

A soft blush appears on your cheeks, the dusting of pink only adding to the allure of your virgin innocence.

“Y-yes, Master Theo.”

Theo doesn’t miss the way your thighs subtly press together underneath the blanket or the way your blush darkens from a soft pink to a flustered red or the way you deliciously shiver in his imposing presence. He gently cups your cheek.

“I… I am honored to be… be chosen.”

Theo caresses your soft skin with his thumb, barely restraining his animalistic need to claim you as his.

“I will try to be gentle, little one.”

You tremble, your doe-like eyes looking up at him both in fear and anticipation. “Thank you, Master Theo.”

The lovely innocence in your eyes is enticing. Theo climbs on top of you, forcefully parting your legs with his knee. He lowers his lips to yours, savoring how they flutter with inexperience, and he roughly traces the tip of his tongue along your supple lips, applying more pressure as you relax into his touch.

The friction of his knee against your cunt causes you to gasp, and Theo welcomes the opening, slipping his tongue in between your sweetly parted lips. He kneads your breast, soft and supple in his hands. He brushes his thumb against your pert nipple, and rolling the sensitive peak between his fingers, he drags his lips down to your neck.

“Hah ah… Master Theo,” you moan.

Your sensual exclamation stokes the burning fire raging inside of him, and his desire getting the best of him, he sucks on your delicate flesh leaving behind a dark, red bruise. It’s getting harder and harder for him to hold his ravenous hunger at bay.

“You know what comes next, Hondje?”

“Y–yes.”

Your voice comes out as a sweet whisper, and Theo snaps. He pushes your nightgown past your hips, groaning as the lush waft of your arousal drifts into his nose. You smell intoxicating. He’s blinded by his desire to claim you as his.

He hooks his finger into the waistband of your underwear, ripping the delicate fabric and removing it with haste. The movement startles you, and you squeak, but Theo barely notices. He’s entranced by the way your sweet pussy clenches, glistening with your delectable arousal.

Beautiful.

Theo runs his tongue along your sex, tasting you like a man starved, a single thought crossing his mind.

Breeding you is going to be divine.

Theo’s suddenly aware of how constricting his clothes feel, and with a growl, he practically rips off his clothes. He sees the way your eyes bulge when they see him spring free, taking in the sheer size of his erection leaking with his ravenous need, the sight only fueling his heated inferno.

He grabs you by the waist, digging his fingers into your soft flesh, driven by his need to fill your womb with his seed.

“This may hurt.”

“Y–yes…”

Somewhere in Theo’s muddled mind, he notes your shaky sigh, the way you’re trying so hard to be brave at what’s coming next, but he’s too far gone, the animalistic instinct to breed you overtaking the rational part of his brain. He’s aching to feel your sweet cunt around him.

Theo plunges in, burying himself to the hilt, buzzing with pleasure as you cry out. He can feel your walls stretching to accommodate him, clenching around him in a vice grip. Theo grunts. You’re spasming so tightly around his cock, it takes almost everything he has to hold onto his composure.

But your sweet cunt isn’t ready to accept his seed. Not yet.

Theo thrusts into you. Your walls are dragging along the shaft of his cock. He’s filled you so completely, his tip bumps against your soft cervix, the vibrations adding to the electric tingles spreading throughout his flushed body. You’re sucking him in, pulling him further and further into your blistering warmth.

Your eyes flutter closed, and then the most sinful moan tumbles from your lips.

Theo shudders. He can’t hold back any longer, and he’s pounding into you forcefully at a dizzying speed. You’re writhing under him, bucking your hips up to match his rhythm. Your moans are growing louder, until you’re practically screaming his name.

While Theo doesn’t object to hearing your passionate screams, he doesn’t want you to catch the ire of the other omegas living on his estate, those who have yet to be chosen by him, those he passes over in favor of you. He shoves the closest item of clothing – his briefs – into your mouth.

“Here, bite into this. Since you can't stay quiet.”

An embarrassed blush crosses your face, but you comply, clamping your teeth down onto the fabric. Theo loses it at the sight of his soiled underwear stuffed into your pouting mouth. You look positively erotic. Your flushed face. Your disheveled hair. Your breathless moans.

He quickens his pace, slamming into you at an inhuman speed. The sound of furious squelching fills the room. Theo’s reeling, a frenetic pressure building within him, building until he bursts, and he’s spilling into you with his seed, flooding you with wave after wave of his cum. You’re convulsing around his cock, milking every last drop of his release.

Theo doesn’t move, struggling to catch his breath. Finally, he cracks his eyes open, taking in how adorable you look with your eyes glazed over and your little mouth open in a small circle. He presses his lips to your forehead.

“My good, little Hondje.”

Your eyes slide into focus as they settle on Theo. “Did I please you, Master Theo?”

Theo smirks, nipping at the dark bruise he left earlier. “Very much so, little one.” Something dark flashes through his sky blue eyes. “But, you’re not done pleasing me yet.”

He knows he won’t be until you’re so full of him, you have no choice, but to carry his child.

[ithacas-prince]

“Give me sirens and a cyclops!”

Telemachus, the prince of Ithaca. Parents are Queen Penelope and King Odysseus. also a great-great-grandson of Hermes, and a grandson of a naiad.

No need to inform me of affairs, for I am well-versed in the matters at hand.

The goddess Athena is my benefactor. In days past, she took on the guise of Mentor and urged me to embark upon a voyage in search of my father. Though my quest bore no fruit, I believe we would have become steadfast companions.

(PFP BY sloanslone | banner by jarondont)

death count: 1

kill count: 109

I seek knowledge of my father Odysseus's fate. When I inquired of Menelaus, he recounted a vision revealed by the sea-god Proteus, declaring that my father is marooned and ensnared upon the island of Calypso.

My inclinations are yet unknown to me. (He’s bisexual.) I find joy in music, my lyre, and the companionship of my faithful dog Argos. However, I harbor great disdain for the suitors, for they seek to win the favor of my mother, which I find most vexing.

I yearn for the company of my kin, to partake in the simple joys of life as any mortal might. Yet, alas, I find it difficult to embrace normalcy, for I am bound by blood to a certain messenger god. His whims and tasks often draw me into the realm of the extraordinary, making it nigh impossible to dwell in the comforts of the ordinary.

hi, mod here.. WHAT THE FUCK IS HE SAYING??

appearance: curly raven black hair, dark aquamarine green eyes, pointy ears (which turn into naiad ears in the water, cough) fair skin, freckles, he towers EVERYONE mf is 6'3 help this man, very attractive (unknowingly blessed with beauty by…..???)

voice claim: zagreus from hades

personality: chaotic but mainly calm at times, caring, sometimes an idiot, impulsive, strategic, loyal. he has ADHD, btw. low self esteem issues.

skills: archery, running, swimming, swordsmanship, disarmament, wielding daggers, fighting, etc.

powers: breathing underwater and minor control over water, plus being able to unlock doors with ease and controlling money, he sometimes teleports though it drains him after.

he has maladaptive daydreaming

—

quick rules:

- Romantic interactions will only be with CHARACTERS eighteen years or over.

- This is a ask/rp blog! So you can ask or rp.

- No strong NSFW.

- Innuendos? Allowed.

- Nothing is fully canon!

- If I interact with someone or something or reblog something bad on accident. PLEASE tell me so I can fix it.

- if he dates anyone, it’s set in separate universes.

—

tags:

#the prince has spoken — 👑 (Telemachus)

#asks — ❓ (for asks)

#mod comes over — ⭐️

#the goddess of wisdom appeared — 🦉 (Athena, obviously.)

#god of wine slurs — 🍷 (Dionysus, adopted/mentors Telemachus now.)

…

PLEASE INTRODUCE HIM TO SHIT HES VERY BAD AT THIS 😔😔😔

…

Let me speak of those whom I am acquainted with:

@odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost, @penelope-simp (my dad!!)

@penelope-is-waiting (my mother)

@imnotaman (she forced me to put her here/j but another version of my mom! love her :3)

@reigningprincesstofithaca (my biological sister. she keeps scaring the shit out of me.)

@thehermesguy (my great great granddad)

@unhinged-waterlilly

@quillis-climbs-trees

@thementallyillapollochild

@when-fate-is-mistaken

@sunlights-daughter

@sillypuppetmeister

mod speaking here! NO NSFW. Swearing and cussing happen here.. so..

Im fine with being tagged in random starters or posts.

…

him, btw (art by @/sloanslone

winged, naiad, genderbent and reg form ^

[taistelutaide]

The Spoils of Victory

Tuomas is seeing stars... stars... and Anton. He really knocked me out, Tuomas recalls dreamily... drifting in a sea of libidinous astonishment as he relives the demolition, watching Anton's face thirstily as the man pounds him into oblivion. WHAM! His head twists left. WHAM! His head twists right. WHAM! His head is slammed backward as his consciousness slips away. Such power, Tuomas exalts, feeling an intense, sensual throbbing sensation, as he struggles to wrap his head around what just happened... is still happening... until something gives way and he's awash in serenity... satisfaction... pleasure... ecstasy... He gasps, involuntarily wrenched back to his senses, aroused by... Anton?

Tuomas's eyelids flutter as he helplessly stares down along his torso at the man who knocked him out cold. Anton looks back at him, his gaze keenly trained on Tuomas's face even as his mouth is wrapped firmly around his cock where it rises like a flagpole from the torn remnants of his trunks. The corner of his mouth quirks upward in a devlish grin when he sees Tuomas awake, and Tuomas doesn't see what he does next as the overwhelming, orgasmic rapture it produces forces him to arch his back as he nearly blacks out again from the overpowering bliss coursing through him as he moans exultantly, finally a willing celebrant in the consummation of his utter defeat.

"You belong to me now." Anton whispers in his ear, before rising over him to raise his gloved fist once again, this time dripping with cum.

"How do you like it down there?" He asks tauntingly, "You look so good in your proper place, on your back, at my feet."

Tuomas is still breathing too hard to answer, his gaze still locked reverently on the blond Nordic god standing over him.

Anton lowers his heel gingerly on Tuomas's balls, cocking his head and looking down at him expectantly... wickedly... ravenously...

"...yes. Yes!" Tuomas pants out, frantically grasping Anton's leg.

"What was that?" Anton teases, lowering his heel as Tuomas squirms and a different kind of bell rings, somewhere faraway, as fireworks begin to light up the sky to mark the turn of the new year.

"Yes Sir. I like it..." Tuomas gasps, and Anton removes his foot, taking hold of Tuomas's arm, hauling him to his feet, and kissing him passionately as he swoons defenselessly in the champion's arms.

"Let's finish this tournament with a bang!" Anton calls out over the boom of the fireworks, and the other boxers let out a raucous cheer.

"Now go ahead and claim your prizes!" Anton bellows, "We didn't spend a whole year fighting to establish this hierarchy for it to go unused, did we?" He quips, and the other alpha men chuckle.

"Well have at it!" He urges, turning back to Tuomas, "Now it's your turn to show me some appreciation," he murmurs affectionately, with an earnest look in his eyes. "Let's make this the happiest new year yet."

Tuomas returns with Anton to his corner, as the other finalists begin climbing into the ring to claim their own prizes, celebrate, and get to work whipping up enough wood to last every day of the new year...

Anton and Tuomas

Jan and Santtu

Valdemar and Jens

Gabriel and Hans

Paavo and Alexander

Leo and Henri

Happy new year!

💦💦💦

#daily wood

[howlingday]

So I just thought of an angsty Rwby au involving jaune being Ravens kid. But here’s the kicker Raven would y’know still be behind the scenes watching Yang as she does, but with Jaune and his siblings she actually gets to be a mom for them in ways she couldn’t for Yang.

And I just imagine Jaune being a huge mamas boy and having a great relationship with raven.

And I just also envisioned him with statkillers sword skills for some reason

Is this idea evil? Yes.

But it is a good idea imo

"I can't wait!" Nora bounced in her seat like a little kid going to the fair. She got some odd looks from the other hangar patrons. "We're gonna meet Jaune's whole family! His mom, his dad, his brothers-"

"Sisters." Jaune corrected.

"-his brothers and sisters-" Nora continued.

"No, Nora, I only have sisters. I'm the only brother." Nora looked him up and down. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." She looked away. "Figured a brother would be bigger."

"Huh?"

"What's your family like, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, steering the conversation away from Nora.

"They're great!" Jaune said with a smile. "Though, not everybody is gonna be there. Saph's moving into her new house in Argus and getting ready for her wife to give birth, the twins are living somewhere close to Vytal, and Mom is probably on a mission again."

"Oh, is she a huntress?" Ruby asked.

"She used to be. Now she's in charge of her own mercenary company. She gets really busy."

"Wow..." Ruby had stars in her eyes. "Your mom sounds really cool~!"

"Well, she clearly dropped the ball on you." Weiss rolled her eyes. "Seeing as you arrived at Beacon with no training." Jaune gave a sheepish chuckle. "Honestly, how did that even happen?"

"To be fair," Jaune gave his cheek a scratch, "Beacon was kind of a last minute decision. Mom didn't know until it was too late."

"What was her reaction when she found out?" Blake asked.

"Well..."

'Flight 2314 for Ansel is now boarding.'

"Let's just say she wasn't too thrilled."

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

"Jaune!"

"Hey, Dad!" Jaune walked up to and hugged an older man with faded blond hair. Twice Jaune's size and wearing a white and gold t-shirt and business slacks, he looked exactly what everyone expected Jaune to look like in twenty years. "These are my friends. This is Nora, Pyrrha, and Ren from my team, and my sister team of Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Yang."

"Hi~!"

"Hello!"

Greetings."

"Hi!"

"Weiss Schnee."

"Hello."

"Hey, 'sup!"

"Pleasure to meet you all! I'm Nick, and Jaune's told quite a bit about you kids." Jaune's dad shook each of their hand, shaking some off their feet. "So where's baggage claim? Don't want to keep everyone waiting at the house."

"I don't know about everyone." Jaune chuckled.

"Yup, everyone. Even your sisters came down!" He grinned. "I'd hate to keep your mother waiting."

"Mom's home?!" Jaune asked with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. At a nod from his dad, Jaune lept for joy and walked quickly to baggage claim.

"Huh." Yang smirked. "Never seen someone so airsick move so fast AFTER throwing up."

The group hurried after Jaune, weaving around other passengers to catch up. Meanwhile, Nick kept a close eye on Yang. There was a scowl to his face, andhe knew exactly why.

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

"Here we are." Nick sang as he parked the... well, to call it a 'car' would be misleading. Turns out, it was a vehicle well suited for ten people and their luggage, eight of which would be teens and younger. "And how is the man of the hour?"

"Uh..." Jaune took deep breaths. Even as a kid, he got carsick easily. Thankfully, cars were a lot easier for him now than bullheads. "I'm good."

"You sure?" Nick chuckled. "Wouldn't want your mom to see her only son thrown up on himself."

"Like it's the first time." Jaune climbed out and looked at his home. It was a fairly big house in the country-side; two-stories, basement, attic, outdoor pool with patches of tape. He couldn't help but smile.

"Wow..." Nora gasped in wonder. "So this is where you grew up?" She nodded. "Guess it makes sense. Nothing about you says 'city kid'."

"Uh, thanks, Nora?" Jaune wasn't sure if he should take it as a compliment or an insult. What he did know, though...

"It's about time you showed up!" ...was whose voice that was.

Jaune whirled and saw an older woman with long, black hair and piercing red eyes. He smiled back at the woman who raised him almost all of his life. He raised his hand in the air.

"Hey, Mo-"

"RAVEN!" Jaune whirled again, catching a bit of motion sickness, and saw Yang huffing like a bull, ready to charge. Her eyes were red, just like when she was mad. Just like his mom's always were.

"Oh..." And just like that, Jaune had another sister.

[echantedtoon]

Boo!

King Boo x Reader Oneshot.

The shadows danced as moonlight shown down along the dark homes in town. Dancing with the stars and laughing in glee with the darkness on the ground as the moon and stars above shined down watching their sinister dances as an audience would a beautiful ballet. It was very pretty in a way but your mind would only focus on high alert with the possible dangers within the shadows. Every alleyway felt like a hiding place for a monster. Every shadow a trap. And the light not much of a beacon of hope.

The sweet sunlight kisses the world good bye as the sun set on the world. Wishing it good bye to make way for the cruel night that way ahead. Bathing the world in darkness tinted in white by his sister the moon as she dawned her best war paint and climbed higher into the darkened sky to claim her rightful place as Queen of the dark realm. That readd a sign to all her dark children that tonight would be the night for mischief and mayhem. Danger and chaos. Those who refuse to heed the warnings are fated to die to be spirited away never to be seen again. So hide away and don't make a sound. Never answer the door no matter what. And above all else be weary.

The darkness of night was always dangerous to those whom did not heed the warnings of the monsters whom lurked within the abyss and shadows.

The woman knew that more than anyone else very well. Often finding herself confined within it's hold. Innocence ensnared like a bird within it's cage. Singing it's innocent melodies despite being condemned to be surrounded by cold iron bars. Forever ongoing. Swirling, swirling around

The sun sank beneath the horizon to make way for his sister the moon to take her rightful place upon her throne of darkness surrounded by her army men of stars and comets. 'Come out!' She cried out to her dark children that hid from the light. 'My brother and his infernal light is gone. Once more come out to greet your mother and wreck discord upon thine earth. Have your fun dancing in my gentle glow and bask in the darkness that I reign upon as I watch over you.' The monsters woul answer their mother's cries. Dancing. Reigning havoc over the darkness. Bringing entropy to every household they manage to invade.

Tonight would heed no difference as curtains closed out the soft moonlight lighting the way for monsters. Nothing to see with except the ominous wafting glimmer of candlelight. Footsteps echoed through the darkened room telling of the witchcraft to be spoken of tonight. 

Pale flesh as snow. Hair as shiny ebony as the ravens. And a determination set of conjuring wicked wilds. A spell mumbled past lips as reflections casted off darkly. Mirror rippling like water behind a glass.

"Full moon on the rise. New moon hides from eyes. Dark moon crystalized in skies."

The candlelight flickered. A ghastly coldness sinking inside the locked room. The darkness circling the mirror and seeping into the looking glass. Absorbing it's darkness as a makeshift offering to bring forth the damned conjured.

"One of strongest boo power comes back up from the ground! To enchant the world all around."

A wind echoed throw as draft. Snuffing out the candlelights until a single flame remained on the vanity. Illuminating her distorted face within the reflection. A wind echoed throw as draft. Snuffing out the candlelights until a single flame remained on the vanity. Illuminating her distorted face within the reflection.Faster the ripples swirled and danced. Her mirror form's smile disappearing completely in their grasp.

Black went the mirror completely. Gone went the swirls and no reflection. Just an empty hole to be found. The silence intensifying. Not a whisper from even the small beetle scurrying away in fear, fleeting from the monster that was to come devoir.

"King Boo?"

Time slowed to nothing. Silence as the last candle flickered out. Shutting the world in darkness as her smile widened. Hand reaching out to touch the surface of the darkened glass, nothing stopping her hand from slipping inside- But the empty grip was soon filled with another's hand on her own and two sickening magenta eyes that pierced the night ambience.

"You summoned me after finally so long? Good. I was starting to believe I'd have to trap you in a painting just to get you to spend time with me."

She giggled. "Sorry. But sometimes summoning takes time especially with real life obligations to do."

"That's no excuse! Now get in here and spend time with me! I've got a very special 'appointment ' with E. Gadd later."

"Another painting trap?"

"Actually this one involves a fake hotel trap that's sure to work! Otherwise you'll find me in a jar again."

[evoblue]

re: dead girl walking

As you all know, Blue is based on the beta concept for the unused female trainer in RBY, which is often forgotten, unknown, or simply considered a 'dead girl' in creepypasta. I've tried to incorporate these concepts into my portrayal and that's how I ended up in the 'dead girl walking' concept.

In almost every universe except this one, Blue is dead. This is why people don't know or forget her, etc. In a way, it's a curse that haunts her in every lifetime. Her life in this universe is the longest she's ever lived because, even though she's had plenty of near-death experiences, she somehow manages to make it out alive, whether by her own merit or by the grace of some other entity's help. This is why, when she sees her reflection in the ungaikyō, she sees herself as dead and it's also why the demonic entities in the spirit world are trying to reclaim her. To the universe, she's living on borrowed time.

She's unaware of this but this connection to death affects how certain pokémon perceive her. Fairy-type pokémon find her unusually interesting, and she's able to forge incredibly strong bonds with ghost-type pokémon like her Ceruledge. Her Gengar, BooFace, would be able to pinpoint her presence from halfway across the world and materialize beside her if he had to. Nieva, her Froslass, was drawn to her presence when Blue was climbing Mt. Coronet toward Snowpoint City, and is the only reason why Blue survived the avalanche there that should have claimed her life.

The following is a growing list of people, places, and pokémon that have either attempted or succeeded to kill Blue in this and other lifetimes:

Old abandoned well in the grounds of the Aozaki mansion, drowned

Team Rocket grunts in Silph Tower, succumbed to broken neck or other injuries*

Whirl Islands, drowned*

Car accident with Red and Green during a road trip, succumbed to injuries

Mt. Silver Avalanche, buried alive*

Sinnoh Route 217 avalanche, buried alive*

Plane ride en route to Kalos, plane crashed into the ocean

Ex-lover, stabbed in murder-suicide

Village Bridge Bannette, attempted suffocation and live burial, failed*

Hoard of ravenous demonic creatures, failed*

Mt. Silver Haunter, shadow claws and poison, failed*

Most of these (marked with *) have happened in this lifetime. Almost all of them have succeeded in killing her in other lifetimes. Sometimes, people close to her will have nightmares in which she dies; these are reflections of past or future realities that have or will come to pass in some lifetime.

[nocteacakes]

Coriolanus has been looking for her ever since the games. Her scent is imprinted into his brain.

// snowbaird omegaverse 568 words

(prompt 'in a crowd' from snowbairdprompt on Twitter)

The Hob teems with people — other Omegas, other Alphas. Their scents clash with each other, and it overwhelms his Capitol nose; he isn’t used to so many Unclaimed people without suppressants. If he hadn’t thought it before, it’s blatantly apparent that he lives in a District now. Even so, he picks out her scent in the stuffy warehouse, and it gives him hope. In a crowd, in the zoo, in the arena — he knows that scent and he can — he will — find her anywhere.

When he sees her, it’s like a punch to the gut and a smack upside the head at the same time. They lock eyes and everything else falls away. She’s his — his songbird, his girl, his Omega to claim. Nothing else matters.

— Ω —

She likes swimming and he gets in because the water is cool. In the lake it's just him and her, and the water dulls all other scents so he can pretend there's no one else for miles. He can imagine it’s just them, that he's finally alone with His Girl, His Omega.

She kisses him in the middle of the lake with the hot summer breeze rifling his hair, and it feels like he's drowning in her. If this is how he goes, he will welcome death with open arms. Just not yet, not before he gets his fill of her. He’s ravenous for her; he can't get enough. He wants to consume her whole, carve out a place for himself in her and leave his mark on her forever. She's here, and she's real, and he can feel her bones underneath his hands, soft skin kissed by sun and now him. He follows a trail of water down her neck with his tongue.

Eventually, they climb out of the lake. She’s releasing pheromones in waves, so intense they nearly bowl him over. Suddenly, it feels too open, too exposed. He can't protect her like when they were in the water. He can’t know all the threats around her like in the Capitol.

The cabin door creaks on its hinges, and Coryo questions the stability of the one-room shack. As quickly as the thought comes, it leaves. He can't focus on that just right now. He can't focus on anything but gorgeous, lovely, enticing Lucy Gray, standing before him in a towel and her swimsuit, dark curls dripping lake water and big beautiful eyes full of trust for him. Her smell pervades the small space and Coryo can't hold himself back anymore. He reaches for her, and she reaches for him like she knows; she yearns for what's coming just as much as he does. Their kiss is an explosion; it rattles him to his core like that fateful day in the arena. She arches up into him, arms tight around his neck, and he pulls her to him, wet skin to wet skin and the curve of her delicate neck beneath his mouth. He sucks at her glands and she shudders along her whole body. He sucks harder, squeezes her side — a soft moan and she's limp against him, a pliable Omega for his taking.

"Coryo Coryo please please please." She whispers his name like a prayer — claim her and deliver her from her nightmares.

He does.

—— A/N: I'm still somehow fucking stuck on present tense and let me tell you, it's driving me BATSHIT. The backstory to this one is actually more crazy because I was thinking about muzzled Alphas lmao and Coryo being muzzled when he's in public. Maybe I'll turn this into a longer one-shot on AO3 because I kinda feel bad that I stopped before the fucking lol

[fuukonomiko]

Rejected Scenes From My Fanfic

One of my commenters requested to read my discarded chapters so I'm posting it here instead of AO3 because I don't want to confuse people. So here is one of them. I have like 15-20 pages of rejected material and I think I will put them on here for....those who are bored or intrigued.... (Official fanfic here)

@apatheticallyromantic

Also @kaladinkholins Thank you for your support :D

The eating scene will be in another post :)

Here goes:

She stayed in her cabin. She wasn’t sure how long. All she knew was that she felt emotionally ill. The captain had been checking in on her and had left some food outside her door. She simply replied she felt unwell. 

I can’t let myself be overcome by this, she scolded herself. 

Mizu alighted from her room. It was dark. The deck was empty save for one sailor who was watching over the raven’s nest.

The moon was out, casting light upon her. The seas were calm, in much contrast to what she felt inside. The samurai stretched her limbs, stiffened as they felt from her lack of motion the day before. She can’t allow herself to slack off from her training. 

“Mizu!”

She caught a sheathed sword thrown at her. Across her was Taigen, holding the broken blade forged by Master Eiji. Before she could utter a word he was already in front of her, sword raised in offense.

“Ha!” she blocked him rapidly, kneeling on her right side to absorb the strength of the blow. She pushed back and kicked him on the stomach. Taigen retreated a few steps before striking again, swinging his sword before her which she avoided narrowly. Mizu hopped up on one of the platforms as she avoided his strikes. She masterfully evaded them while taking jabs at Taigen who had ducked it with just as much mastery.

Shadows of a majestic battle occurred on the deck of that ship. Neither one gained an advantage. Mizu climbed the mast and the poles. Taigen followed her without fail. She flipped and somersaulted her way around the ship and he swiped when he had the chance. At one point Mizu stepped on a loose plank and fell backwards. Taigen dove forward and had the broken blade across her throat.

Mizu found herself looking up at him, his breath visible as he tried to catch it. It was bone chilling cold outside and neither of them seemed to have noticed. A thin film of sweat was on his forehead. She waited for him to speak, expecting expletives, rage. Something foul and filled with hate.Taigen’s features appeared to soften as he pulled back the sword from its threatening position, casting it aside as it made a resounding clang. His hands found their way on either side of Mizu’s head.

“Claiming your honor back?” she taunted as he looked down on her, eyes taking in the curves and angles  of her face.

“Something better.” he took in a deep breath and in a heartbeat his mouth was over hers, kissing her with the utmost restraint. 

Mizu gasped when she felt his lips over hers. It was soft as she remembered, warm, tender. His fingers twined in the deep brown tresses of her hair. His body closed the distance between them and she felt the goosebumps on his skin. He pulled back slowly, the most tender of expressions on his face.

“I don’t know what you were expecting.” he spoke softly. “But I can tell this was not it.”

A confused look crossed her face. “I’m not sure….” she answered, puzzled. 

“Are you going to hit me again?” 

“Only if you’re into that…peculiarity.”

Taigen laughed out loud, releasing her face but pressing his forehead against hers. “I want you to know….that I accept you. All of you….if that’s not evident now, then I’m stating it to you.For all you are. For who you are.”Her hand found itself on his wrist. 

“You…you don’t mind that I am a woman?”

He pulled away slightly. “Should I?”

A corner of Mizu’s lip lifted. “Some men do not want to be taken down by a woman.”

“I am not just any man.” he rationalized as he pulled her into his arms. “You’re Mizu. Man. Woman. It doesn’t matter to me. All I want is you. For all you are.”

Mizu allowed him to embrace her, even relaxing her shoulders as she savored his closeness. His heart was palpitating against her, and it felt soothing. She placed her hand over it, feeling it alive and throbbing.

They were on that deck for a while, with Taigen standing up first and letting her go. “It’s getting cold.” he stated as he offered a hand. He escorted her back to her quarters where it was less chilly. Mizu gave his hand a squeeze. “Taigen…”

“Yes?”

“I felt that.”

If he could turn red, he would have. He didn’t think Mizu would have detected the reaction she again triggered by her nearness. He was wearing his hakama, dammit! How? How could she know? Was it outlining his outfit again?

A short laugh came out of her lips as she pulled him closer. “Just so you know, those things don’t scare me.”

“I don’t think anything scares you, to be honest.”

“One thing does….that I would die before getting my revenge.”

He took a seat next to her. “I’ll make sure you don’t. Even if I have to die doing so….”“Stop offering your life for mine.”

“It’s a worthy sacrifice.”

Mizu became silent as she took in his words. “Taigen I….I can’t ….I’m not the person for you. It’s not that I feel nothing. But I don’t know if I can reciprocate what you are offering me. You…you’re offered me so much and I don’t know if I could do the same….I’m damaged goods. You need better.” She raised her gaze to meet his brown eyes. “I don’t know if I can make you happy.”

He looked at her, the tenderness not waning. He rested his cheek on the top of her head. “I don’t need you to make me happy. Just being around you does that to me. I won’t ask for anything….other than…perhaps….would you allow me to make you satisfied?”

She pulled away, eyeing him curiously. Taigen bent down to kiss her, again, this time firmer, more passionate, more tenderness. Mizu felt him pressing against her, guiding her to lay on her bed. 

He slowly backed away when she was supine, lips parted, cheeks flushed. Taigen had his hand on the belt of his robe. “May I satisfy you?”

Mizu nodded slowly. 

“Taigen….”

She reached out to him, and he took that hand, planting a kiss on her calloused palms. Her hands were not soft, not in the least. They were hardened by years of labor, gripping that smithing hammer and brandishing her sword. He rubbed his cheek against it, the rough skin signifying her strength. 

It turned him on immensely.

His lips traveled slowly on the length of her arm, going down until he reached her beautiful face. He took her lips again, kissing with fervor and allowing her to realize the urgency of his need. He found that he likes kissing her. He liked it more that she kissed him back. 

Taigen started to undo her top, almost tearing it with impatience. When he met with her bindings he undid them with care. He did not know how long she had not done this, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with his desire, no matter how fervent it was. 

“You’re beautiful.” he murmured as her chest was exposed to him. “So, very beautiful.” 

Mizu was warm. The coolness of the air was now an afterthought. His gaze warmed her over and when he reached over to touch her body it was all she could do not to whimper. His touch was firm, his fingers tracing every line and curve he exposed as he slowly peeled off her clothing. Between her legs developed a tingling sensation that had long been dormant and she almost felt ashamed that it occurred. “I want you, Mizu. All of you.” he  bent down to kiss her neck, lips moving across her shoulders. 

“Take it all, then….” she whispered as her body moved of its own accord to follow his touch. Her hand found its way to hair, grasping its lengths as he went about trailing kisses on her skin.

Mizu let out a sound foreign to her ears as he performed a slow exploration of her body. It only seemed to entice him as she felt him nibble in places that he passed. When Taigen reached her breasts he rubbed his cheek on the turgid nipple before taking it in his mouth and sucking 

She moaned, loudly, fingers gripping the sheets of her mat. When one of his hands found the delta between her legs she just about bolted off her bed. “I suspect I found a place that you like.” he stated as his fingers felt the moisture between her thighs. He probed the warm, soft spot and the heat was more than he could bear. 

“Mizu….” his voice cracked as his digits slid to explore her. The cry she let out was music to his ears. She was tight. She was wet. She made sounds he didn’t know she was capable of. Mizu writhed beneath him and it was the most beautiful sight to behold. 

Taigen positioned himself between her strong legs, slowly guiding his rigid length into her. It was his turn to take in a sharp breath as he made entry. He cursed so uncharacteristically when he finally fitted himself. He lifted her hips, tilting them so he could reach as deep as possible.

“You feel so good, Mizu.” he cried as his member swelled inside her. He watched the pained expression on her face as he bent to kiss her again.He gripped her hips as he started to move. Forward. Back. Pushing in as far as he could and pulling out almost completely. He dipped in rapid succession, responding to the intensity of her cries. Mizu buried her fingers on the muscles of his back as she received him. She called his name out in pleasured agony. Slowly he emptied himself into her, his breath trying to  catch up. 

Taigen gently lowered himself on her, savoring her skin against his. He could feel her breath on his forehead, her long fingers resting on the small of his back. His entire body tingled with ecstasy, even as he had already climaxed. He wanted to savor every little bit of it as he closed his eyes, his hand resting on her hip. 

“Mizu.” He was panting, heart beating so fast it felt like it was going to bounce off his chest.He could hear her own heart palpitating against his cheek. 

For a good amount of time they lay there, resting against each other. Taigen was the first to lift his head, watching her afterglow. He decided he liked the way her eyes darkened with the pleasure he was able to bestow on her. Her lips looked dry and he watched her lick them quickly with her tongue. 

He rolled over to her side, relaxing his muscles. His right hand crept to take hers to give it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry.”Those were the first words out of her mouth after a long bout of silence. Taigen wasn’t sure how to take that.

“For laying with me?” he ventured curiously.

“No.” she denied with firmness. “I’...I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want.”“

You just did.” his tone was intrigued as he raise himself by an elbow/ “You know what I mean, Taigen.” she sighed. 

“I can’t…I can’t be your domesticated little housewife who waits with a warm meal and the children all washed and ready.”

His brows met. “Who said I wanted that? Did you not hear me earlier? Has the clanging of the metal of swords dulled your ears? I said just being with you is enough for me. To help you get your vengeance. Your fight is my fight. I offer you my life, to do with as you please.”

“I want you to live and be happy.”

“Then I will make an oath not to die.” he stated as his finger found its way to her belly button.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

"The Lost Hero" - Crippled Hero Presumed Dead part 11

Warnings: crippled hero, hero with disabilities, retired hero, reluctant hero, choking, collapsed throat

Logan was honestly shocked they even made it this far without being caught. But thinking that must have jinxed it, because there was an armed guard waiting inside, who let out an alarmed shout as the trio came stalking in.

"You're not supposed to be he--" that was as far as he got before a zap of electricity from Hero arced through the air, striking the metal gun in the guard's hand. The man's whole body seized and convulsed violently, before he dropped to the floor, out cold.

"Ouch. Shocking, right?" Noah snickered. No one laughed.

Hero stumbled over to the staircase leading to the second story without hesitation, not even acknowledging Noah's attempted joke. She had a single-minded focus: find Supervillain's technology room and fix her throat.

"Uh, Hero? Do you know where you're going?" Logan asked. She hadn't even searched the first floor.

Hero nodded quickly, taking the stairs one by one with some difficulty. Logan and Noah scrambled to follow, but Logan frowned with worry as Hero's breathing grew increasingly labored and ragged, and she stopped halfway up the staircase to lean on the railing for support.

Without saying a word, Logan dropped back to stand next to her, gently grabbing her arm and draping it over his shoulders to help.

Thank you, Hero mouthed soundlessly. She braced against Logan as they climbed the steps, finally reaching the second floor. The hall they found themselves facing was terrifying. It was modified to the point where it somewhat resembled a prison, with doors lining each side that had the windows barred and high-end security keycard readers next to them. But the smell was by far what stood out the most; the whole place reeked.

Hero started looking through the windows one by one, making her way down the hall, and Logan followed her lead, checking each room on the opposite side while Noah stayed alert for any more guards coming.

What Logan saw was horrifying, and he almost vomited on the spot. In several of the cell-like rooms, he could see bodies. Real bodies that used to be people. That's what the foul odor was coming from. The air smelled like death.

Some cells were empty, but the ones with dead people in them were awful to look at. It was clear the victims were brutally tortured and maimed by Supervillain during their time here, suffering terribly before death finally claimed them. The evidence of it was all over the walls smeared with blood, the chains and shackles still wrapped around rotting flesh.

Logan fought to suppress his nausea and stay focused, moving as quickly as he could down the hall. But one cell was different. It wasn't empty, but it didn't have a decaying corpse, either.

"Hero! I think I found something!" He called.

Hero hobbled over and hastily destroyed the security keypad, giving access to the room. She was the first to go on, but she stopped short so fast Logan crashed into her back.

"Mff! Why are you stopping?" Logan walked around her, and froze. Hero's face was paler than he'd ever seen before, a look of pure shock and disbelief etched in her expression. He followed her gaze to where a single table was bolted down in the back of the room -- and there was someone sitting there.

Well, 'sitting' might be a bit of a stretch. It was definitely a man... middle-aged, with raven-black hair falling messily across his face. But he was slumped limply over the table, one wrist cuffed to it with a sophisticated electronic cuff. Unmoving. Both ankles were tied with old-fashioned rope to the chair he was sitting in. The table was a disastrous mess of scattered pencils and papers crinkled around the limp figure draped over them.

"What did you guys find?" Noah appeared in the doorway. "Oh..."

Logan peered closer at the papers and realized that they were actually blueprints, and sketches; designs for things he had never seen before, pictures so intricate and detailed.

Hero took a step forward, and another -- before dropping to a knee to crouch eye-level with the unresponsive figure shackled in place. She looked... hopeful, and desperate all in one. But equally despairing and dreading. With a trembling hand, she reached out -- grabbing the man's shoulder and shaking it roughly.

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