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plutoswritingplanet · 8 months ago

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It's A Special Death You Saved (Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Female!Reader) pt.1

a/n: i had a "no bald men" rule before he licked a knife... so y'all know my priorities are in order. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (as per usual), Arranged Marriage, Reader is an Atreides (it's just such a good prompt i couldn't help myself),

Summary: A month-long engagement to the na-Baron Harkonnen makes you question, whether a marriage can bloom on the grounds of hate. Loosely based on "Special Death" by Mirah.

Pt.2, Pt.3 Pt.4 (finale)

The message comes from the Emperor himself. An indisputable order that renders your Father speechless. You've never seen him quite as distraught, as when he has visited you in your chambers to deliver the news. Hands fidgeting, eyes refusing to meet yours, heavy shadows falling across his face. He seems to expect your reaction, not giving you as much as a flinch, when you scream your protests at him. And he should've expected as much, you were always the more impulsive of Duke Leto's children.

- But the Harkonnens are beasts - you argue, voice breaking - You've said it yourself, many times.

- Actually, I think that was Gurney...

- You've never denied it!

And he doesn't deny it now, head hung low. Never, not once in your life, have you seen your Father give up. Until today.

Your Mother enters just a few seconds after him, her dress flowing around her ankles as if she had floated in on a cloud. She stands to the side of your bed, hands folded, and an impassive expression embedded onto her features. And the more she speaks of the centuries of breeding, the importance of an union and the powers beyond your understanding, the less you see of your mother. What stands before you, instead, is a Bene Gesserit sister, veiled in schemes and dark plans, which were in the making before you were even born. You curse yourself for not noticing this stranger sooner, and storm off, out of your room, your shawl blowing out behind you like bat wings.

Paul doesn't visit you, but you can hear him, even through the effort of swallowing down your tears. He fights for you against your Father. He would fight for you against the whole Empire if he had to, and your heart swells, as he throws a particularly nasty curse into the air of your Father's study. It doesn't change anything. According to the decree of the Emperror, the oldest daughter of the Duke Leto Atreides will marry Feyd Rautha, an heir to the Baron Harkonnen. A centuries long dispute is about to be put to an end, and all thanks to the small sacrifice, which is your life. All would be well in the galaxy. Really, you should be honored, to be tasked with such a monumental peace treaty.

Everyone in the court seems to know about your situation. Mournful looks follow you, as you walk into the training barracks, ridding yourself of layers upon layers of flowing fabrics, leaving you in a rather tight costume, light enough to beat your frustrations out on someone.

Duncan Idaho meets your searching eyes, and you know he is aware as well. All it takes is one inclination of your chin, and he's up on his feet, sword in hand. Loyal as ever, he stands in front of you, watches with mixed feelings as you enable your shield, no questions asked. None needed.

He barely has time to put his defenses up, when you charge at him, fury and despair pushing your movements into stances which are clumsy and ill though out. Still, there's power within your strikes, a strength of someone who needs to move, unless they break. So he lets you, for a couple of minutes. He dodges your attacks, pairing some of them, never moving quite into the offense.

The rest of the soldiers scurry off somewhere, for which you will be thankful in the future. They might hear your cries of anger, but they will not see you break. They will not see the way your blade smashes into Duncan's shield over and over again, with no regard for the slow attacks, which would penetrate it. Likewise, they don't see your sparring partner fall to his knees and swipe you off your feet in a split-second movement, making you hit the floor with a frustrated snarl. And they don't see you finally give up, and cry, hugging your blade to your chest, the severity of your circumstance falling onto you, crushing you down.

- Never fight in anger, Princess - Duncan reminds you, voice cautious, and you growl at him like a wild animal - It dulls your instincts, makes you distracted.

- Did you know? - you demand, your sharp voice cutting through his half-assed lecture.

For a moment he looks truly remorseful. His eyes float around the room, and your heart sinks when he sighs deeply.

- I found out not long ago - he confesses - Your Father told me.

Your blade slides against the floor as you throw it, a raw scream tearing through your throat. Duncan takes a step towards you, hand extended towards your shaking form. But, before he can attempt to touch you, you're up, rolling your shoulders forcefully. Tears stain your cheeks, and you wipe them roughly with the back of your hand, skin becoming irritated almost instantly. There are swords laid out on a small table, just beside you, your fingers grip the cold handle so hard, your knuckles seem to creak under the pressure. Duncan readies himself as well, dusting off his trousers.

He's not good at comforting, but he's the best at fighting, and if that's what you need in this cold morning, he'll oblige.

- You'll make it through, you know - he says, his voice genuine, and you laugh without any mirth.

Your blades clash, faces coming closer as you absentmindedly notice small scars adorning his cheeks.

- You can adapt to anything - you strike against his shoulder, the shield pushes your blade away - We could send you to Arrakis right now, and a week later you'd be riding a damned Sandworm into battle.

To that, you laugh, this time your smile reaching your eyes. The idea is preposterous, but it renders your footsteps lighter, and you twist to dodge a nasty blow to the right arm. Duncan huffs a laugh as well, as you slip through his fingers. He points his blade in your direction, a smirk playing across his lips, and you bare your teeth in a playful display of wildness.

- Careful, Princess, you might scare your betrothed away - Duncan teases, as you roll your dagger in your hand.

- Scare a damned Harkonnen? Do you find me that intimidating? - the idea thrills you just a little bit, you're woman enough to admit it.

- I think you're fucking terrifying.

- Duncan Idaho, you better not be swearing at my Daughter.

Your face falls immediately, as your Father approaches the two of you, shooting Duncan a stern gaze which holds no real threat. Still, your sparring partner raises his hands, his blade tucked away safely into his belt. There's sweat clinging to your skin from all the training, mingling with drying tears on your cheeks, and Duke Leto tries very hard not to comment on your choice of processing recent events. Still, he nods at you, and like a good daughter, you put your blade away, walking from the barracks after him.

***

The Emperor has called for a traditional, Atreides engagement. A mercy, which you're eternally grateful for. You're not too aware of Harkonnen customs regarding marriage, but given the House's reputation, it couldn't have been pleasant. House Atreides however, took to such matters much more ceremonially, old-fashioned to some.

Soon, a ship is arriving, with your betrothed onboard, and a month-long courting period willcommence. After that, official engagement and soon after, a wedding. Then, you will be transported back on Geidis Prime, where a life of misery awaits. That's all the time you have. A month.

The dress, which was picked out for you, is uncomfortable and shows both too much and too little skin at the same time. While your legs are bare and exposed to an almost scandalous degree, a high, stiff collar nearly chokes the life out of you. This whole getup was the idea of your mother, as an attempt to highlight your best features and hide all that might be considered less desirable.

You have no idea what's wrong with your neck. Perhaps, by cutting off your airflow, your mother aimed to keep you docile.

She frowns deeply as you tug on the fabric, nerves climbing up your spine, growing more desperate every second. She swats at your hand, and you throw her a look. Out of the corner of your eye Paul smiles at your antics, your only consolation in this hopeless place.

- Stop fidgeting, you'll tear the dress - Lady Jessica scolds you, and you can sense actual worry underlining her stern voice.

The Harkonnen ship slowly glides into the atmosphere of your home planet, a black, awful thing. Like all things on Geidis Prime, dark and miserable. Soon, you'll join them, adorned in equally black and lifeless clothing, never to see your family again. Never to see the Ocean. Your nails bite into the collar of the dress, you can hear a stitch tear.

- Stop that.

Your hands fall uselessly against your body, as your mother uses the Voice on you. Wouldn't be the first time, you were quite the unruly daughter and Lady Jessica was determined to make a Lady out of you no matter the means. Still, this time, the unnatural tone feels more like a panicked plea, than a light-hearted scolding.

- Relax Mother - your voice is sharp, despite the slight tremble - In a months time I'll be gone from here forever, stuck in some blackened cell, wistfully sighing "ooh" "aah".

You place your hand on your forehead in a dramatic display of doubtful acting abilities. When you were younger, your mother would laugh at you, as you enacted scenes from romance books. You would throw yourself at a nearby piece of furniture, pretending to be some wronged lover, or an unhappy bride waiting for someone to liberate her. And your mother would clap her hands, thoroughly entertained.

Today however, she doesn't even crack a smile.

- I don't expect you to be happy about all this - she whispers - But I do expect you to wear your grief with some grace.

A slap would've been kinder, you think, and stare ahead, as the Harkonnen ship opens, and a group of people dressed in black spill out of it like ants from a drowning anthill. Your heart is thrumming hard in your chest, and your hand reaches out, despite all your apprehension, towards your mother. A force of habit, to search consolation within her disregarding the fact, that it was her meddling that put you here.

Her fingers lace with yours, thumb stroking your palm in an attempt to soothe you.

Immediately, you know which one of the bald headed Harkonnen is your betrothed.

He's much taller than you, an imposing figure even despite his rather lean built. His skin is almost completely white, as expected, his teeth are blackened out, as expected as well, and his eyes are bearing into you with an intensity so oppressing, you almost look away. Almost.

- I present to you, Feyd Rautha, the na-Baron of House Harkonnen.

The pale man steps forward, releasing you from his gaze for only just a moment, to trade pleasantries with your Father, who looks beyond miserable as he fixes your soon-to-be husband with a tired look. Then, Feyd Rautha is brought before you.

There's grace to his movements you did not expect, as he pushes his black cloak aside, and kneels in front of you. Harkonnen were known for their bulky ruthlessness, but this one... This one reminded you of a panther, the way his eyes travelled the length of your body, full lips pulling upward into a barely noticable smirk.

Customs, you remind yourself, as your mother's hand squeezes your fingers. You don't want to let her go, but you do, slowly, with so many mixed thoughts rattling around your brain, it makes your head swim.

Feyd Rautha grabs your extended hand in such a gentle manner, you're almost convinced the Harkonnens have shaved some poor bastard and dropped him off instead of the real na-Baron. Then, he lifts your palm up, until his lips press against your fingertips, a gesture so tender, your heart does a flip in your chest. And then, it stops all together, when his grip on your palm tightens, and he pulls your hand closer, to kiss it properly. As if he can't help himself, he looks up at you, and you realize.

You almost got yourself caught, but reading people's intentions have been taught to you as fervently as reading texts, and you can see right through this facade of chivalry. There's darkness in this man, a swirling void, which brings a wave of cold fear upon you. This cunning, depraved creature will soon enough become your husband, and you'll be stuck with him forever. How long will he keep up this impeccable appearence? Was this performence for you, your Father, his own twisted fun, or all the things combined?

With a furrowed brow, you tear your hand out of his grasp, a full body shiver running up your spine at the sight of his self-satisfied smirk. He drinks up your reactions like a man parched, and you fight hard to put on a mask of indifference, as he rises from his knees to stand before you in all his imposing glory.

***

You can feel his eyes follow you, as the welcome committee retreats into the Palace. He doesn't let you out of his sight throughout the feast, which takes place immediately after his arrival, and even now, as he gets ready to "entertain" the court by indulging in some barbaric ceremony of his, his eyes are trained only on you.

It's uncomfortable, to say the least, having him stare at you, while you sit surrounded by your family, who, for the most part, say nothing. Except Paul. Your dear baby brother, your protector in all this madness. As Feyd Rautha throws his coat to the side, showing off his (admittedly impressive) muscles, Paul leans towards you.

- He looks like a hard boiled egg, don't you think sister? - he whispers and subsequently ends your vow of silence.

The giggle you let out is caught quickly by everyone around, your betrothed included, before you press an open palm against your lips.

- Behave - your mother warns, and you try, you really do.

But in the serene light of the fading sun, your soon-to-be husband's head does look frighteningly egg-ish. God, you'll get yourself killed, before the wedding ceremony is even resolved if you keep this up.

You're seated high in an outdoor theater. One of your grandfather's favorite places, where he used to dance with bulls for sport. Where he met his demise.

Feyd Rautha presents his knives to you and your family, their blades glint ominously in the setting sun. Again, you are struck with the sheer grace this man exudes. His movements, despite being forceful and wild, have a beauty to them, as if he was rehearsing ancient dance moves, rather than killing blows.

And, despite your brother's earlier comment, there is something enticing in the way his pale skin catches the rays of bleeding sunshine, slowly creeping towards the horizon. He's almost beautiful, almost handsome enough to consider.

The thought leaves your head almost immediately, as the Harkonnen servants bring in his apparent opponent. Your heart drops to your stomach at the sight of a beaten, dark skinned warrior. Immediately you recognize a Fremen, you've read so much about them in your free time. You know how they filter water, what they eat, how they move through the sands, and despite your knowledge you can't fathom, why this poor man has been brought here.

At your side, Paul shifts in his seat, all jokes leaving him in a hurry. The both of you watch, as the man you're promised to toys with a clearly drugged victim. Slashes bloom on the prisoners skin, blood sprays in the air. You refuse to look away, to show such weakness, even as Feyd Rautha grabs the poor man by his hair and with a forceful push impales his throat on the blade. Blood pours down onto the sand, paints the Harkonnen's face and chest a deep shade of red.

It's a brutal display of power, of cruelty and wildness the Harkonnens are known for. Suddenly, everything Gurney has warned you about, while training your fighting skills, rings like a thousand of bells in your ears. This is who you will marry, who you will spend your entire life with.

You swallow down an urge to throw up, and stand up from your seat.

The show must go on, you think, throwing your Mother one, venomous look, trying to force her to understand your pain. Then, you lock eyes with your betrothed, who watches you from below with a cruel smile, blackened teeth on full display. You meant to congratulate him, to play the part as instructed, but you can do nothing of the sort. Instead, you stare back at him, disgust flowing from your features like a broken faucet.

Lady Jessica opens her mouth, but before she can, without a doubt, scold you again, you're out of the seating area, your footsteps echoing in the halls.

Once you're sufficiently tucked away from prying eyes, your back hits the wall, and you allow yourself feel the luxury of unbridled panic. Your breathing comes out in fast, shallow pants, as cold sweat forms on your forehead. Thoughts racing, your fingers tangle into your hair, tugging at the roots. This is your future, the only future waiting for you, and it's filled wth pain and blood.

- Have you enjoyed the fight, my Lady? - you immediately know it's him, despite not hearing him speak before.

A gasp of surprise leaves you before you can catch it, and your back straightens almost painfully fast.

There he stands, tall and lean, and terrifying. Blood still decorates his torso creating a contrast that is both terrifying and hypnotizing. He watches you, curiosity and humor swirling behind his eyes. You can't decide whether they are completely blackened out, or if they hold a blue, almost serene hue.

- No - you answer, finding your voice entirely too shaky for your liking - I did not enjoy it.

He laughs, a guttural, low sound that makes the hair stand at the back of your neck. You know he wouldn't dare try anything here, right under your Father's nose while the engagement is still in the making. Yet, as you stand frozen, just you, him and the marble walls around you, dread finds home in the pit of your stomach.

- Was that man Fremen? - you ask, partially to fill the silence, partially because you're genuinely curious.

The man shrugs, you can see muscles moving under his white skin. He takes a step towards you and you will yourself not to run.

- Sometimes we bring a couple of captured desert rats home - he explains with a nonchalant tone - Mostly for entertainment.

The almost bored intonation he uses to describe this barbaric ritual makes something boil deep inside you.

- That's cruel - you counter, emotions flowing freely onto your face, much to the man's delight - To deny those men the honor of dying on their home planet. To drag them into a completely foreign place, just to kill them for sport, like some animals... It's...

- Some of them live - he cuts you off, taking another couple of steps towards you, but in your growing outrage, you barely notice - Our brothels are filled with Fremen whores.

Your face twist into an expression of utter repulsion, and Feyd Rautha raises his eyebrows in a pathetic mask of confusion, almost childlike giddiness lighting up his eyes as he looks down at you.

- Oh, don't give me that look, my Lady. - he cooes, and you've never felt a stronger urge to slap the daylights out of someone - I know for a fact there are brothels on your planet filled with hungry soldiers.

- Yes - you bark back at him - but the people there are working prostitutes, not slaves!

He shrugs, looking somewhere to the side of your face.

- A waste of money, if you'd ask me.

- Good thing no one has - there's venom in your voice, and your betrothed sucks a breath through his teeth.

You curse yourself for leaving your dagger, for not concealing it somewhere in this ridiculous dress, because the way the Harkonnen's expression shifts freezes blood right in your veins.

He looks at you, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, while something much darker lurks in his eyes. His bloodied hand comes up, finger making contact with the exposed skin of your shoulder. You can feel the thick liquid stick to your flesh, as he drags his hand down, painting you, marking you.

- You're quite the little viper, my Lady.

Watching him silently, you don't respond. Don't know how to, when he closes the distance between your bodies enough to make you feel the heat radiating off of his chest, while the smell of blood and sweat completely assaults your senses. It's sickening, the way he looks at you, like you're a new toy, just waiting to be unpacked and destroyed by too eager hands.

- My Uncle, the Baron, has instructed me, to be the utmost gentleman to you. To woo you completely - his voice is low, barely above a whisper, as he grins down at you - But I just can't lie to my future wife like that, can I?

He leans closer and finally, you take a step back, sliding out of his space, assessing a cautious stance. His hand almost follows you, the skin of your shoulder feels conflictingly cold without him.

- Once we're wed, I will possess you completely - this time you stand your ground, as he approaches, circling you like a lion stalking it's prey - And then...

He leans down beside you, shoulder to your shoulder, close enough for you to feel his hot breath graze your ear.

- Like the bull that took your grandfather's life, I shall pierce you.

The violent innuendo doesn't slip past you, and with hatred brewing behind your eyes, you look straight at him, forcing your fear to lay dormant.

- You're disgusting.

- And you're blushing like a lovely, virgin bride should - he concludes, sending an awful wink your way, before withdrawing from you completely.

Your veins burn hot, as you watch him leave, a selfish confidence painting his steps, and you beg every God in existence to grant you a sword in your hand. Or a dagger. A kitchen knife would do as well. Anything, that would help you cut this unbeatable, patronizing, infuriatingly handsome smirk from Feyd Rauthas face.

Alas, you're left with nothing, only a small glimmer of hope dangling in front of you, after your damned betrothed's words fully register in your brain.

A bride you might be, but certainly not a virgin one. Duncan Idaho made sure of that many years ago. The thought makes you smile, despite nerves wreaking havoc in your body. At least that's the one thing Feyd Rautha won't be able to take from you.

#my writing #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #feyd rautha smut #dune smut #dune x reader #he looks insane what the hell am i writing

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keerysfreckles · 10 months ago

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hey bby 💕 said you were looking a luke castellan plot so here’s one :) so like luke is actually exhausted coming back from a quest that didn’t go super well and he can’t sleep at night because he keeps having nightmares (maybe of the reader dying?), so he starts coming to the reader at night asking if he can sleep in their bed because he feels safer and can feel that they’re alright and then it’s just the evolution of the routine and how they get closer :) no worries if you don’t want to do it btw !

hope ur ok — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x demeter fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, like one mention of blood/wounds, angst if you squint

a/n: I LOVE THIS ITS SO- UGH

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

luke sat upright in his bed. a thin coat of sweat covered his forehead. for the past three nights, ever since he got back from his quest, he's been having nightmares. the first two weren't special. they were the same as the others he normally got. tonight however was different.

he was in a desert, the sky was dark. there was a low wind, causing the sand beneath his feet to move slightly. a yellow fog spread throughout the desert, and suddenly, y/n appeared. at first he thought his dream self imagined it, almost like a hallucination. but no, y/n was surely there.

y/n was made out of sand, the wind blowing past her, making luke see her features more clearly.

"y/n?" luke calls out. he tries to walk closer to her, but the wind picks up and the sand starts covering his feet, halting his movements.

the wind starts to get stronger, pushing luke and y/n away from each other.

"luke!" she yells, trying to get closer to him.

a low growl is emitted from behind y/n, making her turn.

"y/n!" luke calls again, his voice becoming dry from the sand in the air. luke's eyes widen at the sight of a beast fully appearing behind the struggling girl.

luke's dream self continues to call for y/n, until his voice gets caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. he watches as the beast brings his clawed hand up, about to attack y/n.

luke looks out his window, trying his best to forget about the dream he had moments ago. yet it was worthless. he rubbed his eyes before throwing his blanket off of his lower body.

he grabbed his jacket, knowing it got cold at night, and made his way out of his own cabin and towards y/n's.

was the idea risky? yes.

but the hermes boy couldn't care. he was in risk of getting caught by a patrolling harpy. or he could get caught by chrion or mr d. (that was even worse in his opinion) or he was worried y/n wouldn't even want to see him at this time of night. but he just had to make sure the girl was okay.

luke stopped in front of cabin four, staring over the greenery around most of the wood planks and columns.

he didn't bother knocking, and as quietly as he could the boy opened the door covered in moss. it only creaked slightly. luke was quiet again as he shut the door.

the greenery theme followed throughout the cabin. it wasn't as prominent as it was on the exterior. green vines hung on the walls, and small purple and yellow flowers bloomed wherever grass patches were on the hardwood ground.

luke was hoping y/n wouldn't be mad at him for sneaking into her cabin. the two were friends, but don't talk much outside of archery.

there were seven beds in the cabin, none of them being bunk beds like the hermes cabin had. luke made it to the sixth bed and saw y/n asleep. her back was turned to luke, making her face the window.

luke nudged her shoulder. no response.

he did the motion again, hearing a small gasp come from the girl. "luke?" she turned around after rubbing her eyes, making sure they weren't playing tricks on her.

"what are you doing here?" her voice was soft, in order to not wake up any of her half sisters. (there weren't any sons of demeter, no one had really questioned it).

luke stammers, "i uh, couldn't sleep. had another nightmare."

y/n was full sitting now, with her blanket pooling around her waist. "what happened? in the nightmare?"

luke shakes his head, "i'd rather not talk about it." the more he thought about it, the more he only wanted to protect y/n.

y/n looked around her bed, before getting an idea.

"do you want to sleep here? with me?" she offered, quickly catching luke off guard.

"are you sure? what if someone catches us?"

y/n smiles and pulls her blanket down for luke to join her. "then we worry about it tomorrow. you need to get some rest. you have to teach archery tomorrow."

luke reciprocates a smile before sliding in the bed next to y/n. he tosses his jacket on the ground, now getting comfortable under y/n's dark green blanket. it reminded him of grass, but it wasn't itchy like the greenery in the door.

after a few moments of silence, luke turns to y/n, seeing she was facing the window again.

"can i hold you?" luke's voice is raspy and soft. he was worried y/n didn't hear him, until she turned again to face him.

she only nods, making the two maneuver in the bed. y/n is closer to luke now, as she's laying on her side to face him. he rests his head on her chest. both of his arms are wrapped around her waist gently, pulling the girl even closer to him.

luke can hear y/n's heartbeat, which instantly calms him down from the nightmare he had that night. a gesture she didn't even know she was doing, would calm him down more than she knew.

as luke started to fall asleep, he felt y/n's finger in his hair. her nails were lightly scratching his scalp, and her fingers played with his dark curls. she kisses the top of his head, before she whispers, "goodnight luke."

#shelbi writes #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson #pjo show #pjo tv #pjo tv show #pjo books #percy jackson and the olympians show #percy jackson and the olympians

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yellosnacc · 8 months ago

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Welcome to a long one.

The Ciwan empire is the fastest-growing sloman power ever since the war of continents and the first to discover a form of gunpowder (thanks to their enemies being uniima lls who have been using it long before).

But even with that advantage (among slomen), the Ciwan armies are iconic for a different reason. That being the Kuiqua-trained units that Sun-cutters come from.

These units have traditionally existed for hundreds of years but are slowly just becoming a symbol for show because of the political and battling changes in the world. However, you will still see them from time to time ripping people to pieces.

Just like the majority of sloman military groups the unit relies on intense teamwork, they need constant communication and preplanned routes to deal with the opposing strategy.

The simplified average scene might look something like this:

In one unit of 30 members, three strikers (Sun-cutters) make a plan with their scholars and commanding Fire-catchers (Seconds leaders). After getting to the war zone they wait for their window in which some members spy or communicate with deeper army spies. When they know their target and best strategy they get in. The strikers use hand gestures, clicks, or whistles to save energy while the Seconds forward the orders to the rest with "ground's" (war language), wooden whistles see more use in very large units. Many times, however, often just seeing the movement of the sun-cutters is enough for the whole group to act.

Strikers will sometimes wait behind their heavies (Beasts) if their force isn't necessary (units can be as few as 5 members or as many as 50, the two extremes work very differently). Once the situation calls for it, they bullet their targets, often stabbing talons first and tearing muscles in a swift motion. This may happen multiple times as other unit members engage in direct battle with the target/s or disarm them with specialized tools. Kuiqua units both kill and capture, having healing supplies on their heavies if they need to make sure their target doesn't bleed out (or their own soldiers).

All members of the Kuiquan unit are priests of different levels but all are priests of the dead (ones that speak for their ancestors rather than gods). It's believed lands conquered with these soldiers present will flourish with life. Many former battlegrounds have turned into gardens and crop fields (hopefully they don't keep this up when landmines are invented).

To the image. What you see is a small variety of soldiers. Beasts and fire-catchers have other names and features in their armor that they are known for based on all their roles that can often switch between fights. Only Sun-cutters truly have one name.

Fire-catchers are also sometimes strikers in training and may move up if they prove themselves. Though, more often Sun-cutters rise from the ranks of regular taloned soldiers with enough talent.

As mentioned in the image, Sun-cutters tend to be very prideful. Their helmets are an impractical mess that pushes their ears forward. A Ciwan Sloman's ears are very important to them and if they are damaged it's a career-ending event. Still, almost no strikers bind their ears, not wanting to be shamed for cowardness.

an ex-striker

here is the whole picture if you prefer it big

Btw, Kuiqua is the city Neal lives in. He has met or been arranged to meet these units multiple times since Neal himself is stuck classified as a fancy soldier. They are also not uncommon around temples, small talk is required.

Thank you for reading this far! Next I must answer the questions of biology. This has taken me 50 000 years.

#art #speculative biology #artists on tumblr #digital art #artwork #worldbuilding #speculative evolution #spec bio #sloman culture #slomen #fantasy culture #alien culture #character design #illustration #sloman military

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malewifeharem · 8 months ago

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sex with danheng IL

彡- ,, brainrot???? small fic????? of sex with danheng IL hehe

cw ⁞ afab!reader, nsfw filth (duh), dragon features (two pp but only one goes in ha?, size diff, FANGSSSSSSS), mention of prey/predator dynamic, marking, breeding kink IF YOU SQUINT, scent kink IF YOU SQUINT EVEN HARDER

an ⁞ YALL FR GONNA FIND A WAY TO REPOPULATE THE VIDYADHARA CLAN ;D (idk how im gonna play hsr the same way after writing this...) im not very happy with the intro but its wtv.

@cloudshuffle my amazing awesome proofreader <3

after getting intimate with each other a couple times, danheng and you have discussed taking things up a notch. i imagine him coming back to the astral express, incredibly frustrated after a stressful mission (after seeing his ex in xianzhou), and he really just needed you. you excitedly welcome him back but you're suddenly pinned down — wrists enveloped by his hand and his tail coiling itself around your leg.

"d-danheng? what's wrong...?"

he growls carnally, his cerulean eyes hazed with lust. he dives in for your chest, inhaling deeply before lightly nipping at your neck with his fangs and branding you as his with a few hickies.

"need you now. you know your safe word, yes?" he huffs impatiently, tugging at your shirt.

you nod before hurriedly ridding yourself of your top and bra, exposing your upper half to your lover.

"so beautiful," he whispers in awe.

danheng's hands immediately lock in on your tits, gently squeezing them before giving each of them a sweet suck. your cute little whimper just spurs him on even more! you're so much smaller than him, it's adorable. but it really doesn't help his innermost desires to manhandle tf outta you. it's just part of his animalistic urges as a dragon, after all.

his hands quickly trails down to unclip your skirt and pushing your panties aside to finger you. you let out a small gasp at this, slightly unnerved by his hastiness but you weren't complaining at all. it's not long till he adds another finger, coaxing a low moan out of you. with your walls clenching so deliciously around his fingers, the dragon wondered how you would feel around his cock instead.

"cant take it anymore... please 'heng..," you whine.

"hm, my baby's so needy all for me? i'll give you what you want since you asked so sweetly."

danheng chuckles before discarding his own slacks, revealing his erect cocks. (yes, two ehe) it's so pretty, being tinted a light turquoise at the base and a pink-ish fleshy color at the tip. he slides one of them in slowly — the stretch being so much bigger than his fingers. you both moan in unison once his length is fully buried in your wetness, with his hand pressing down on your spine, putting you in a mean arch. he waits for your signal before moving his hips, thrusting slow and deep — allowing you to feel every vein, every inch. your skin flushes in embarrassment when you notice how lustful danheng looks in the moment, eyeing you hungrily as if you're meek prey, who've fallen into the beast's domain. (omg so alpha) as he picks up his pace, your cries of pleasure only grow louder and you're sincerely hoping march won't call you both out on it later.

you wrap your arms around danheng's neck, hungrily pulling him in for a kiss while your legs encircles his waist — forcing his cock to drive deeper into you.

"mmfh— fuck, you're sucking me in... feels so good, darling," he pants in between sloppy, wet kisses. it's so messy, the way your pussy squelches sinfully with each thrust — your juices coating his girth with a layer of slick and even spilling onto the sheets below. he continues rutting into you ruthlessly, knocking all the air out of you as your hands find their way onto your boyfriend's back, leaving searing marks — staking your claim. the pain only turning him on even more, he hisses as his breath grows erratic, warning you of his impending release. you're on the edge of your own climax too, a familiar coil tightening in your abdomen.

"haah... i can feel you clenching around me, let's cum together," he groaned in your ear, enveloping you with the essence of him — body, soul, and mind. to him, you look best all fucked-out, guts rearranged and your mind filled with only thoughts of him and his dick. one particular prod to your g-spot sends you to your climax, your cunt clamping down impossibly harder on your poor boyfriend's dick. your words coming out as broken, incoherent sobs as your body quivers from the intensity of it all.

with your pussy milking him for all he's worth like that, how was danheng supposed to hold back? he shot ribbons of pearly white cum inside of you, making sure to fill every crevice of you with him — his cock twitching with each pulse.

"i would've never expected cumming inside of you would feel so good... could we go one more round? gonna fill you up real good again, i promise."

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bethanythebogwitch · 23 days ago

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Wet Beast Wednesday: abalone

This is a Wet Beast Wednesday post, but it would also be applicable for Mollusk Monday and maybe even Flat Fuck Friday. Today I'll be introducing you to the abalone. The squat snails have some strange features that set them apart from their fellows in the shell squad. Unfortunately, over harvesting of abalone for their meat and shells have put many abalone species in danger.

(Image: an abalone attached to a rock. It is a snail with a large, broad, and flat brown shell. A muscular foot attaches the animal to the rock. Around the body is a membrane covered in tentacles that reach out around the body. End ID)

Abalone are marine snails of the genus Haliotis (not to be confused with halitosis) that can range in shell diameter from 20 mm (0.8 in) to 300 mm (12 in). The number of species is a matter of some debate. There's a lot of variation in morphology within species which led to many species being incorrectly classified as multiple species. The most accepted number appears to be 56 species and 18 subspecies. Abalone shells are highly flattened and the spiral can be hard to see, making them look like large limpets. They have no operculum and cannot withdraw into their shells like other snails can. Instead, when threatened they suction as hard as possible to an object. The shells have holes in them on one side which are used for respiration, waste disposal, and release of gametes. As abalone grow, the number of holes will change with some being filled in and new ones forming. The interior of the shell is covered in nacre. This substance, also called mother-of-pearl is valuable for its polished, iridescent appearance. Abalone use the nacre to make claw-shaped pearls. The shell is composed of microscopic bricks of calcium carbonate glued together by a protein structure. When pressure is applied to the structure, the bricks slide against each other and the protein glue stretches. This helps absorb the energy of blows and makes the shells very resistant to cracking. The shell structure of abalone has been studied to make sturdier body armor and ceramics.

(Image: an empty and polished abalone shell, seen from below. The shell is lined with shiny and iridescent nacre. The nacre color varies with species, but in this case is blue-green. A line of holes are on one side of the shell. End ID)

The majority of the shell's interior is filled with the muscular foot, which the abalone uses for locomotion. The foot is attached to the shell in the center. Around the edge of the foot is a structure called the epipodium. This is a frilled membrane lined with sensory tentacles. When an abalone is relaxed, it will extend the tentacles to examine its surrounding. When threatened, the tentacles retract for safety. Along the edge of the shell is the mantle, which produced the material for the shell. Abalone will grow larger throughout their lives, with the mantle continuously making new shell. At the front is the head, which has sensory tentacles and a mouth that contains a pair of oral tentacles use for finding food and the radula. The radula is a tongue-like structure lines with sharp teeth. The teeth scrape algae off of rocks and into the mouth. The teeth are arranged in rows that move forward like a conveyor belt, allowing worn out teeth to fall out and be replaced by fresh ones. The head is near the newest-formed hole and the anus is next to the rearmost hole.

(Image: an abalone seen from below, with the foor removed and anatomy labeled. The organs circle around a central muscle that the foot attaches to. A small head is in the front while the epipodium rings the body. Source. End ID)

(Image: an abalone's radula, removed and next to a pencil for scale. It is a long, thin structure lined with rows of tiny teeth. The front end is stained brown with algae. End ID)

Abalone live on coasts worldwide, with the exception of the North American Atlantic coast, South American Pacific Coast, and the poles. Most species live in cold water, but tropical species are known. They spend their times feeding on algae. Abalone shells are usually covered with life, including algae and sessile animals like tunicates, sponges, and tube worms. The hitchhikers combined with the upper shell's dull appearances serves as effective camouflage. During mating season, males and females release gametes into the water. The number of eggs a female can produce increases with size and can be up to 11 million per season. The larvae start out in a swimming form before metamorphosing into non-swimming juveniles called spat. Abalone reach sexual maturity young and at a small size.

(Iamge: dozens of abalone spat in a tank. They are miniature versions of the adults, but have nacre on the outside of the shell as well, giving them a shiny turquoise color. End ID)

Abalone have been hunted by huamns for millennia, with the oldest evidence of use being a 100,000 year old "workshop" found in Blombos Cave, South Africa, where abalone shells were used as storage for ochre mixtures. Throughout their native ranges, abalone have been harvested for their meat, nacre, and pearls. The shells are often used for jewelry, as decorative inlay, and, in some cultures, as currency. The foot is edible and considered a delicacy in some cultures and a staple in others. The value of abalone has led to worldwide overfishing, resulting in many species being endangered. Captive farming has become a major industry in many places to meet the abalone demands. Farming began in China and Japan in the 1950s and 60s and the majority of abalone farms are still in east Asia. Because of overfishing, the majority of the world's abalone supply now comes from farms. Sport fishing is legal in many parts of the world, with 25% of the wild harvest coming from Tasmania. Many places require permits and have catch limits, but poaching remains a major industry. Collection of abalone is usually done with a blunt scoop called an abalone iron that can pop the animal off of rocks. It has to be blunt because abalone blood does not clot and any cut will lead to the animal bleeding to death. Overharvesting and increasing ocean acidification are the largest threats to abalone. Places where abalone are reintroduced to the wild have seen increased biodiversity and environmental health.

(Image: a carving made by the Haida people of British Columbia, Canada. It reselbles a face with a tall hat or head with a small body carved on it. Abalone shells are used for inlay,, cut into rectangles with the nacre facing out. End ID)

#wet beast wednesday #abalone #snail #snails #sea snail #mollusk #molluscs #marine biology #marine life #biology #ecology #zoology #animal facts #informative #educational #image described

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theonewiththefanfics · 9 months ago

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A Life Worth Living (one-shot)

Synopsis: As sickness creeps closer in taking her life, Y/N has come to make her final amends. Though the Astarion she fell for no longer exists, even the cold clutch of absolute power can't match true love.

This is sort of an AU! because in truth, Ascended Astarion would not give a single shit if you've left him at this point, sorry :D I just had to get this out of my head

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x fem!Reader; Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of sickness (not specified), dying, death, swearing etc. Minimally edited :)

Word count: 5115

The day was much like any other in Baldur’s Gate – sunny without even a single wispy cloud in the sky, yet the Ancunin palace rose above all the rest like a beast in the night, drowning the houses in menacing shadows.

Matches, Y/N thought, to the person living inside.

Wrought iron gate surrounded the grounds, thorny rose vines looping through, while beautiful blooms opened towards the slowly moving star above.

This could’ve been her home, had she not said no. She shuddered to think what her life would’ve been like.

That had been almost five years ago. So much had changed during that time. It didn’t even feel like just half a decade had passed, it felt more like a century since Y/N had left Astarion. But she couldn’t stay with him. Not after he’d Ascended, completing the ritual he’d killed Cazador for, and became what he had always hated – a version of Cazador himself.

Her hand had barely touched the handle of the gates before it swung open on its own accord. Y/N shouldn’t be surprised by it, not with how much magic she’d seen and experienced during her travels, but still, such small things made their impact. Whether it was an invitation inside, or a trap only time would tell.

She didn’t have much of it, which is why she was there in the first place. Had that cursed sickness not been slowly taking over her body, eating away at it, cell by cell, Y/N would have dragged this final meeting with Astarion as far in the future as she could, but there were still friends she wanted to visit, places to see, no matter how limited her life had become.

With thinly veiled amazement, because she didn’t want to marvel at what surely was slave work, she walked down the gravel path towards the large double doors of the mansion, looking at the meticulously groomed gardens. Not even a single leaf was out of place. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. Where once she would’ve believed Astarion to be the one to care for these plants, now Y/N knew in her heart, he’d never stoop so low as to even get on one knee to prune a rose. Such a thing was below him nowadays. Let alone sleeping next to her on a bedroll.

When she stood face to face with the large carved oak doors, her heart picked up its rhythm. She couldn’t help it, as years of memories, of love won and lost, rushed through her mind. Slowly, she raised her hand to knock.

It took about half a minute for the doors to open, an unfamiliar face staring back at her.

A vampire spawn, eyes red and glowing, looking at her with a cocked head.

“Can I help you?” he asked, giving her an appraising glance.

Y/N let out a breath. “I’m here to see Astarion.”

“Master Ancunin is not taking any visitors. Not without a previous notice,” he said it almost with a sneer, but she just gave him a smile.

“Tell him an old friend has stopped by. From the times before.”

The vampire looked ready to scoff and throw the door closed in her face, but stopped as he was closing it, a recollection of something flashing across his features. Whether he recognised her as a hero of Baldur’s Gate, or maybe he recognised her from a story Astarion might’ve told didn’t matter, because whatever it was, hopefully would grant her this one meeting.

With that though, Y/N was left to wait outside, pretty much twiddling her thumbs. Astarion probably wouldn’t take it too kindly if she went and took a bloom, though it used to be something he did for her. He used to do so much for her…

About five minutes later, the same spawn appeared, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.

“Master Ancunin will be with you shortly.”

And once again, she was left awing at the hallway, this time completely alone. She guessed no one saw her as a threat, despite the fact she had felled many enemies, including the Absolute. But oh well. At least she didn’t have to awkwardly stand with a guard or something, trying to figure out what small talk to fill the silence with. This gave her a chance to have a look at her surroundings.

A grand staircase, looping up to both sides, stood in front of her, while the palace spiralled away to the right and left. The entrance itself was almost like a ballroom, and she was sure, Astarion had at least one, if not more. What would those look like? What would a ball itself in the Ancunin residence look like? Would there be dancing and singing? Would people be laughing?

She couldn’t imagine it. Not with how he had degraded her after Ascending, telling her to kneel, telling her he’d turn her into a spawn, not because he wanted to spend the rest of their eternities together, but because of the control he now wished to exert over her.

A vision of herself, a blood-red gown, her eyes matching the velvet he’d no doubt dress her in, flashed across her mind. And a beautiful pearl necklace cinched tightly, two large bite marks across the slant of the skin. A collar disguised as gems to tether her to him. One large gilded cage to keep her in.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t my darling, crawling back home.”

Astarion stood at the top of the staircase landing, bringing Y/N out of her pondering.

He was a vision, as he always had been, but now, were vulnerability and love had shone in his eyes, only wry amusement and cruelty were left in their place.

His steps echoed across the empty house as he made his way down, not taking his gaze away from her. Y/N could imagine how she looked to him – covered in dirt and dust from weeks of traveling, eyes hollowed by dark circles and hair a complete mess, skin cracked around her lips, its colour dull. Compared to his meticulously coifed locks, the intricate frock and trousers, and even his gem-covered boots, she was a disaster.

Despite the pain in her heart, Y/N managed a smile. “You look good, Astarion.”

He scoffed, coming to stand before her. “Of course, I look good. I always did. You just didn’t appreciate it. Have you come back to beg? I do like a bit of grovelling. Though after what you did, there might be more you have to do than just plead for me to take you back.”

She chuckled, shaking her head and looped her arm through his elbow, undoubtedly surprising him, as she took charge and led them to the left, no idea where the hallway was going to bring her to, otherwise she might start crying. “Tell me everything Astarion. I want to know how you’ve faired these past five years.”

Her nonchalance, her whole attitude had completely stunned him, something Y/N didn’t think she was capable of, but maybe it was good. Without having knocked him off balance a bit, he might’ve just turned her away, but she needed this conversation. This closure before the sickness took her.

Together they walked inside what turned out to be a dining room. Did he even need one? He didn’t eat human food, even though he was Ascended now, and could enjoy the tastes.

“I have to say,” he started, “I did not expect to see you again.”

Y/N sighed, looking at the paintings hung along the walls, at the gleaming chandeliers above. “Believe me, I did not expect to come either.”

“Then why are you here? If not to apologise for what you did, why bother wasting my time?”

The words stung, but she wasn’t going to tell him the real reason. It wouldn’t matter to him anyway. He told her he wished she died screaming, and though that might still be a possibility, it was more likely she would simply go to sleep one night and never wake up. “Because, although I do not believe I have anything to apologise for, I did wish to make amends. Life for us mortals, is so short… and the thought of living the rest of mine, without at least having tried, seemed… wrong.”

Astarion scoffed, but she could feel him tightening his elbow, as if he didn’t want her hand to slip from the crook it rested in. “I will not apologise for my decisions.”

“I am not asking you to,” Y/N said. “I simply wish for us to become friends once more. If only for the sake of sentimentality.”

“Sentiment,” Astarion sneered. “But what else can I expect from such a creature as a human.”

Y/N let out an amused huff, pressing down the real impact it left on her heart. He knew right where to cut, because when they’d been together during the tadpole adventure, she’d laid her soul bare to him. Told him all about her fears and hopes, how much of a hopeless romantic she was, so now, to tell her it was foolish to try and rekindle if only a friendship, was stupid… but she hadn’t expected more from this version of Astarion.

He’d already given much more time than she’d expected. Half of her had thought when the spawn would tell him who was at the door, he would take the chance and fulfil his words by killing her himself.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s what she’d told him when she’d tried to talk him out of the ritual. How he would be condemning seven thousand other lives. But he hadn’t cared. Astarion had believed he deserved the power, deserved to complete what Cazador couldn’t. Y/N couldn’t stand by and watch, nor would her conscience allow her to be by his side.

And so she’d left. Because there was nothing left of the man she’d fallen in love with. For these five years after, she’d avoided Baldur’s Gate, hearing from whispers and gossip how he’d risen in the ranks of politics and society, how brutal he could be to his servants and those who stood in his way, almost reminding her of when he’d talked about his Magistrate days, only amped to a hundred. A new, sickening Cazador at the helm.

“But how have you been, darling?” Astarion almost sounded bored as they moved into what passed for a living room in this palace, Y/N assumed. “What shenanigans have you caused?”

And so she told him. As a servant spawn brought a tea-set laying out two cups, though Astarion didn’t even pick his up, Y/N recounted how she’d gone all across the Sword Coast, had travelled over the seas and seen knew lands. How she’d done the things he’d promised they would do together.

“Sounds rather… dull,” he commented, lounging on the seat. “But I suppose to such simple minds and hearts as yours, it’s all very exciting and enthralling.”

She wanted to snap at him, remind how half of the ideas she’d completed, had been his, but instead, Y/N just took a deep breath. “Have you finally gotten everything you wanted, Astarion?” she asked instead. “Are you finally happy?”

That had been the true question plaguing her mind these past years.

He turned to look at her, eyes blazing. “I have power, status, people bow to my every whim. What more could I possibly want?”

“Then I’m happy for you,” she said, setting down her half-drunk tea. “Even if it means nothing to you anymore, I am happy you’ve finally gotten what you wished.”

An awkward silence settled between the two, and Y/N took it as her cue to wrap things up. “I best take my leave.”

“And where will you possibly go?” he sneered, but stood up alongside her, making their way back to the grand oak doors.

“Karlach and I are meeting up at a local tavern. And then we’re all going to the get together at Wyll’s. You would know that, had you come to the party Wither’s invited us all to.”

“And waste my time?” he scoffed. “No thanks. This conversation has done enough of that.”

By now they were at the doors, and Y/N turned around, taking in her final fill of the vampire. No doubt this would be the last time she ever saw him. “I hope you have a good life, Astarion. You deserve it. Despite how things went down between us, I do wish all the best for you.”

Slowly, she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. It was cold, but not as cold as she had been used to. No doubt he used every opportunity to lazy out in the sun, or feed on someone.

Just as she was about to exit, he grabbed her by the wrist, his hold tight and not something she’d be able to break out of.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes narrowed in on her, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N’s heart spiked. Was he really still that hurt, he would finally cash in on that revenge? She knew she would never be able to hurt him. No matter what, that romantic heart of hers would betray her.

He snapped her to his chest, her breath hitching in her lungs, as he leaned down by her neck and inhaled. Her frame was ramrod straight, not daring to move a muscle. When he finally moved back, anger and something else raged in his eyes. Was it… fear?

“Now, my dear, tell me the real reason you came here.”

“I -,”

“And don’t lie,” he hissed. “Because I can smell it on you. In your blood.”

“Smell what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Death.” And Y/N had to be hallucinating, because she was sure she heard his voice crack. “Sickness and death runs through your veins. It’s – it’s like acid.”

“What’s it matter, Astarion? What would any of it change?”

“It would chan-,” but he stopped himself.

Y/N leaned a bit closer, her Y/E/C eyes narrowed, trying to decipher what she was seeing on that stony face, but pulled back, shaking her head. “Maybe you will finally get your wish and I will die screaming.”

By the look on his face, she understood Astarion did not appreciate the comment. “You dare enter my home, under the pretences of lies and deceit,” but his vile words didn’t match what she could see brewing underneath – despair. If only she was still naïve enough to believe he felt anything else but contempt for her. “I deserve to know the truth.”

“But you do know it.” Y/N shrugged. “So I’m going to ask you once again – what does the knowledge that I am dying, change? I would still die someday. Whether it is in a week or in half a century, I would still die. What’s it matter?”

“Had you not been stupid, and accepted my offer of becoming a spawn, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Astarion spit, but didn’t release his grip.

“I did not come here to ask you to change me.” She placed her hand against where his heart should be beating, yet everything was still under her fingers. “I am not afraid of death. I am not happy its coming for me so quickly, but I would rather have my life end now, than live as a spawn.”

Hurt crossed his face. “Would living with me really be so repulsive to you?”

“Living as your slave would.” Y/N lifted her chin. “We would not be equals. You would never see me as the person I am, but rather as a thing to own. And I, for one, thought you would be the first person to understand why I would never choose such an option.”

This was not how she wanted them to part, but it seemed like it would once again leave them as enemies.

She pulled away from Astarion, and this time he let her.

“I hope one day you do understand my choices. Because as much as I disagree with yours, I have always accepted and understood them. Live Astarion, if only for yourself.”

Sunlight greeted her, as she opened the door, but she didn’t manage to put a single foot outside, when the vampire grabbed her by the nape of the neck, pulling her back in and slamming the door shut.

“I am sorry my dear, but that simply won’t do.”

Fear didn’t even get a chance to rush through her veins when everything went black.

It was a while before Y/N finally came to, but when she did, she was laid on a plush bed, body covered in a duvet, head resting against the softest pillow in the universe, and the sky outside was the violet of the setting day.

Horror struck her as her memories came to her – of Astarion pressing his palm against her nose and mouth, preventing her from breathing. Of how unconsciousness took over, while his red eyes glared at her fading form. But worse – the conversation they’d had right before that, about refusing to become a spawn.

Did he really hate her that much, he’d turn her against her will?

But instead of Astarion sitting in the room she found…

“Gale?” Y/N’s brow furrowed as she raised herself to her forearms on the mattress. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, you’re awake.” The wizard stood with a smile, walking to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” He pressed a palm against her forehead, checking the temperature, and hummed when he deemed it to be normal.

“Fine,” she mumbled. “But again – what are you doing here?”

“Astarion called.”

“Astarion?” Y/N was befuddled. She would’ve assumed Gale would be the last person ever he would contact, well, last except for her. Especially if he’d turned her into a spawn. No doubt would their friends come to battle if they heard such a thing. And yet Gale seemed perfectly content in the vampire’s castle.

“He sent such a panicked message, I portaled here as quickly as the Weave would allow and-,”

Gale was stopped mid-sentence as the door clicked open.

But the man standing in the doorway wasn’t the Astarion she’d known before, the man she had fallen head over heels in love with, or even the Ascended Astarion she’d spoken to that day. No. This Astarion had eyes as bright green as freshly grown grass, cheeks red and full of life and the blunt incisors of a human, hope and shame shining in his irises.

She whipped her head to Gale. “What in the name of all the Hells did you two do?”

“We saved your life,” the now ex-vampire entered the room, his movements slow as if Y/N was a deer he would startle if he did anything quicker than the pace of a snail. “And I paid the price for it.”

She swallowed hard. “And what exactly was the price?”

“My immortality.”

Now, Y/N assumed she’d been cured as she was inclined to believe not only because of Astarion’s transformation, but because Gale so meticulously was counting her breaths and heartbeat, but that confession almost did take her out, the shock of it all.

She threw a wary glance at the wizard. “So – so I’m not a spawn?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head. “But I don’t blame you for believing I would do such a… vile thing.”

Heavy silence settled in the room when she finally turned to look at him. “But I thought you had everything you ever wanted.”

“I did so too,” he nodded. “But when I smelled it, that – that sickness in your blood… I guess it is true what they say – love is the most powerful magic of all. Because the thought of you dying – it did something to my head… my heart. I could not let that happen.”

Y/N surveyed him, the new person standing before her. “You gave up everything for me. All the power… everything…”

“I won’t lie – I almost gave into the temptation, I almost did bite you. But these past five years were… miserable. And the thought of living the rest of eternity with the knowledge you hated me before you died… it wasn’t something I could do. Even with all the power in the world, the one weakness I have never been able to rid myself of is you.”

Neither noticed Gale clear his throat and motion towards the door, and neither noticed how it shut behind the wizard, leaving them on their own.

She watched as Astarion crossed the room, and sat himself down at the very foot of the bed, eyes locked onto the fingers in his lap. He was still as graceful as ever, but no longer was there this predatory supernatural sense to it. Now he was more a ballet dancer, than a stalking panther.

“So what happens now?”

“Now,” he sighed. “Now I don’t know. I didn’t really think further than Gale performing the ritual and hoping it would be enough.”

“Am I… immortal now?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, and his smile was so warm, it almost knocked her back down to the bed. “You’re as human, as human can be. Only healthy now. Hopefully with many a decade before you yet to be lived.”

“And you?” she had to address the elephant in the room. “What exactly are you now?”

“I,” he sighed and looked at the wall. No, not the wall, but a large mirror, his eyes boring into the ones of his reflection. “I am what I was before Cazador. As common as a high elf can be.”

“I just don’t understand,” Y/N said. “I don’t get why you would do such a thing. Seven thousand spawn died for you to gain all that power, for you to prove you could complete what Cazador couldn’t. How could you just throw it all away?”

Astarion sighed, standing up and moving to the other side of the room where a large open door stood, leading out to a balcony. He leaned against the railing, and Y/N finally got out of the bed.

She could feel the strength having returned to her muscles. No longer did they ache, no longer did her bones scream, no longer did she feel tired and weak. A new zeal of life had filled her, and she couldn’t get why Astarion had given it all up for her to – what? Live maybe just a couple of more decades?

Together they leaned on the marble railing, overlooking the lush gardens, the flowers now a duller colour, but still as beautiful in moonlight, as they were in the sun.

“For five years I imagined what I would do if you showed up on my doorstep,” Astarion started. “There were times I imagined taking you and putting you in chains, dragging you to a dungeon and inflicting unspeakable pain, because that’s how it felt when you left. I wanted to do nothing but hurt you. And then I imagined how you would have come to your senses, how you would come and beg me to turn you into a spawn, finally realising your place was always beside me.”

He looked at her. “But then you did turn up. And all I could do was barely hold it together and not kiss you then and there. When you said you were dying, but that it would be a better life than with me, something… something cracked. Whether it was my sense coming back to me, the part of my brain that made good decisions being released from a prison of power, I don’t know.” Astarion chuckled. “But the only thing running through my head was – the one person that has always loved you selflessly, is dying. And you’re a pathetic coward that can’t do anything to stop it.”

“When Gale told me there was a way to heal you, but it would cost me, somehow I didn’t even pause to think. I just told him to do it. If the price for you being able to live a fulfilled life was having my power, my immortality stripped away, he could’ve for all I cared, spilled all my blood and let me bleed dry. As long as it meant you were here �� living and breathing.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what you would’ve done. And I couldn’t be bested by a dying woman. Would turn you into a full martyr, and I couldn’t have someone outshining me like that.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, letting out a choked back laugh. “What was the ritual?”

“Apparently Gale had been looking at certain transfers of power for a while.” Astarion shrugged. “When I contacted him, I didn’t even have anything specific in mind, I just knew he would probably be the best at figuring out what, if anything, could be done. Of course, had the answer been negative, it would not have ended well for our dear wizard, but you understand my point.”

“Well, I am glad Gale is still in one piece.” Y/N looked at him as she slowly covered his palm with hers. Astarion’s breath hitched, when she intertwined their fingers. “And I am grateful to the both of you for what you did. But I will forever be in debted to you.”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, tightening his hold, as if terrified she’d slip away like sand. “There is no debt to be repaid. Actually, I think I should be the one thanking you. For showing up. For even thinking I was worth enough to say goodbye to, but I have to ask… Were you ever going to tell? Had I not smelled it on you, would you have ever told anyone? Because when I told Gale, he was so stunned, I almost thought he would join you and pass out.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “By the time I decided I had to see you at least once more before I… well, you know… I’d already met all of our friends individually. I had thought of asking Shadowheart if there was a spell maybe, but ultimately, no.”

“Why would you keep something like that to yourself?”

“I didn’t feel like burdening the others.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve all gone through so much darkness, have so much else to worry about, I didn’t want to add more to that.”

“Surely you know those idiots would ride blindfolded into battle for you.”

“I do. But it’s not like I would want that. Besides… if those were to be my last days, I wanted them to be filled with joy and fun things. Not with Halsin worrying if such excitement was healthy for me, or Lae’Zel scolding me for certain decisions. And let’s not even mention Karlach who’d cross the world searching for a cure that might not even exist.”

“And you left me for last…”

Y/N bit down hard on her lip. “Because it took everything in me to get over the hurt. Get over what you did and said. Because I was terrified you would slam the door in my face if I showed up.”

A tear rolled down his own cheek, as he bit the inside of it. “A fair assumption. And maybe if you’d come earlier, I would have. But… deep down I knew, I would have done everything to try and make you stay. Even through the haze of that power… my heart has always been yours. And still is. If you will have it.”

The words coming out of her mouth hurt, but they had to be said, despite how ardently she wished to say yes and return to how things were. But she knew she couldn’t neither of them could. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Astarion.” She could see him visibly shrink down, tears now unabated as they flowed like rivers from his eye. He wanted to pull away, but she didn’t let him, holding onto his hand tighter, running a soothing thumb over his hand, so warm and alive under her touch, it made her sigh.

“You’ve just regained yourself.” Y/N tried to give what was an endearing smile, but was probably more a grimace. “You’ve just become an elf again… there is so much you need to grasp and realise… I don’t think a relationship is what would be good right now.”

Two green eyes met her Y/E/C ones. Gods, the colour was so gorgeous, she felt like drowning in his gaze. “The only thing I was ever sure of in my life was you. Even as an Ascended bastard. And then I blew it. Absolutely smashed my chance to pieces like an idiot, but… if you’ll allow it. I would like another try. If only at being someone worthy to stand by your side.”

Y/N felt her lips quirk up. “Would it be overtly presumptuous of me to think, that by the end of it, you would wish to be more than friends?”

“If I am only allowed to be your friends, I will fall to my knees before you and beg for the chance. But no longer will I lie and say my true intentions aren’t to hopefully, one day, get on one knee, and wish for a shared life.”

She had not seen such a version of Astarion, so candid and vulnerable, since leaving him. And for him to be so open, made some resolve in her melt a bit. “We can try. Slowly.”

It was like a boulder had rolled off Astarion’s chest, his whole body visibly shuddering in relief, before he tentatively, as if waiting for her rejection, weaved a hand around her waist.

She rested her head against his shoulder, revelling in the feeling of him pressing his cheek to the top of it. And when he tilted her chin up, a hopeful gaze in his eyes as it slipped to her lips, she didn’t stop him when he pressed his mouth to hers.

It was like surfacing for a breath after years of being pulled down in an abyss, something Y/N never thought she’d be able to do again. And that kiss – it was filled with so much love, she didn’t need oxygen to breathe.

There was still a world of hurt between then, a universe of making up to be done, but they had time. They had all the time they wanted or could need.

“To a new start, my love.” She muttered against his lips, and the smile Astarion gave her was more brilliant than the moon and stars shining in the sky combined.

“And to a life worth living.”

The next kiss they shared sure as hells was.

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: My tags are always open

Please don't repost onto other platforms! That is called plaigarism :)

I also had an idea of writing this from Astarion's POV, so if that is something of interest, do let me know :)

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novaursa · 2 months ago

Note

could you please do torrhen stark x aegon the conquerers youngest sister (not rhaenys), getting married and having kids in winterfell

Queen of Winter

- Summary: Your life with Torrhen flourishes in spite of your brother’s ire.

- Paring: targ!reader/Torrhen Stark

- Note: This is another part of The Broken Crown series, where the reader chooses Torrhen ending called The Queen's Choice. These events follow after the ending.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The North had never seen such a wedding. The cold winds blew through the godswood as you and Torrhen Stark were wed beneath the heart tree, its ancient branches reaching out as silent witnesses. The Old Gods looked on as you made your vows, their presence felt in every gust of icy wind. Winterfell’s great hall had roared with celebration that night, the fires blazing high in the hearth, the Starks and their bannermen toasting to the union of ice and fire.

Years had passed since that fateful day, and Winterfell was no longer just a place of cold stone and ancient oaths. It was filled with the laughter of children, your children. Nine in total, each one a reflection of the bond between you and Torrhen, the fierce love that had grown despite the odds, despite the war, and despite the looming shadow of Aegon and his sisters.

Your sons were the embodiment of the North’s strength, towering figures with the bulk and muscle of their father’s kin, but with the unmistakable Valyrian features that marked their heritage. Their hair, silver as moonlight, was often tousled by the wind, and their violet eyes burned with the same fierce intensity as your dragon. They moved through Winterfell with the quiet power of wolves, though the fire of dragons coursed through their veins.

Your daughters, on the other hand, were your mirror. Each one carried a trace of your fire, both in spirit and in appearance. They had inherited your beauty, your poise, and the regal way you held yourself, but beneath it all was the cold steel of the North, a quiet fierceness that only you could understand. When they stood with their brothers, they were a fearsome sight, children of two worlds, bonded by blood and the strength of the North.

It was a day of clear skies and crisp air when Torrhen found you in the godswood, watching your children. Your youngest son, Rhaenar, was perched on a low branch of the weirwood tree, his silver hair glowing in the midday light, his eyes fixed on the sky where one of his older brothers circled on dragonback. You smiled, a small, contented sigh escaping your lips.

Torrhen approached quietly, wrapping his arm around your waist, his warmth seeping through the heavy fur cloak you wore. “Rhaenar is restless again,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

“He wants a dragon of his own,” you replied, leaning into him. “He watches the skies more than the other children. He has his eyes on one of Tesaerix’s hatchlings.”

Torrhen chuckled softly, his breath misting in the cold air. “The boy has ambition. Like his mother.”

You smiled at that, looking up at your husband. His face, weathered by the years and the responsibilities of ruling, was still as handsome and strong as the day you first met. “And like his father,” you teased. “The Starks may be wolves, but there’s dragon blood in his veins.”

Torrhen’s gaze softened, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Our children are as much Stark as they are Targaryen. They carry both fire and ice in them. They will grow into great leaders.”

Your eyes turned back to the godswood, watching as your eldest son, Vaeron, landed his dragon in the clearing. The beast, a large creature with scales the color of dark smoke and ember, lowered its head, allowing Vaeron to dismount. He was the spitting image of you in his features, but Torrhen’s strength and Northern stature shaped his form. Vaeron had bonded with the first of Tesaerix’s clutch, a proud dragon who had hatched in the dead of winter.

As Vaeron approached, Rhaenar rushed over to his older brother, eyes wide with excitement. “Did she fly higher today? Did you see beyond the Wall from afar?”

Vaeron smiled, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Not today, little wolf. But one day, when you have your own dragon, we’ll fly together.”

Rhaenar’s face lit up, and he looked to you with a pleading expression. “Mother, when will one of the hatchlings choose me?”

You knelt down, brushing a lock of silver hair from his forehead. “Patience, my love. The dragons choose when the time is right. They are not just beasts to command—they are kin, bound by blood and fire.”

Rhaenar nodded solemnly, though his excitement was barely contained. The bond between dragon and rider was something every child of yours yearned for, and you knew it would come in time.

That evening, as the fires in Winterfell’s great hall roared and the scent of roasted meat filled the air, your children gathered around the table, laughter and conversation filling the space. Vaeron sat at the head of the table beside Torrhen, discussing strategy and plans with his father, while your daughters entertained their younger brothers, teasing them mercilessly.

Torrhen watched them with pride in his eyes, the legacy you had built together here in the North. “The bannermen will be expecting more of our children to take up their positions soon,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “Vaeron will need to command, and the others will follow.”

“They are ready,” you replied, glancing at your sons and daughters. “The dragons have chosen some of them already, and the Old Gods watch over the rest.”

Torrhen took your hand under the table, his grip firm but warm. “I never thought our lives would become this, Y/N. Not after all that’s happened. But now, I can’t imagine it any other way.”

You smiled at him, your heart swelling with the same love you had carried since the day you’d flown north to be with him. “This is where we were always meant to be, Torrhen. Here, with our children, our dragons, our home.”

The years had not been without their trials, but in that moment, surrounded by your family, the future seemed as vast and as endless as the northern sky.

In the distance, a dragon roared, its call echoing through the halls of Winterfell, a reminder of the power that lay within your bloodline, and the strength of the bond between fire and ice.

#fire and blood #fire and blood x reader #the conquest #house stark #torrhen stark #torrhen x reader #torrhen x you #torrhen x y/n #game of thrones #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

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scummy-writes · 15 days ago

Text

Daybreak Desires

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Gilbert/Reader Words: 1668 Tags: afab!reader, riding, sleepy morning sex, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie

It’s a quiet rarity to wake up before Gilbert. In your time together, you had lost count of all the times you had awoken to Gilbert’s eye soaking in your features, his sly smile as he stole the first kiss of the morning from you. Today, however, you stretch and sigh pleasantly before realizing there’s no teasing words awaiting you, and in turning you discover your lover still fast asleep.

You can’t help the wonderment that steals your attention in seeing him so vulnerable, so peaceful in sleep. Without thought, your thumb slowly finds his cheek, stroking, easing him from dreams and into reality. It’s slow like the early morning light, but he wakes, eyelids fluttering open in a lazy gaze while he breathes in deep. He smiles upon registering you, words still laden with sleep as he speaks.

“Mmm… What is it, little-”

It’s all he can muster before your lips are on his, greedily stealing what was left to say. Gilbert doesn’t respond, just feels the warmth of you seeping into him with each press of your mouth, but soon he realizes what is happening, and he responds in kind.

This early, his teeth only greet you in gentle tugs of your bottom lip. Small nibbles to elicit soft sighs. Yet you’re treated to much more than you initially hoped; his own sighs mingling with yours, lulled moans of your name coming from his reddened lips.

It entices you to become more bold.

Between the kisses, you reach past your nightgown, hurriedly removing your underwear before you climb on top of his body with ease, pressing your sex against his clothed erection.

Gilbert groans, a mixture of your name and a curse escaping him in wonder before his hands find your hips, clumsily searching for underwear not present as you tug his member free.

You’re not thinking past your desires, and they plead for you to act on impulses. The second his cock hits the morning air, you’re pressing it against your folds, grinding for friction against your swollen clit.

“Little rabbit,” he rasps, brows knit as he gazes up at you. Stars aren’t in his eyes, only the burning embers of lust mixed with wonderment: he’s never had you like this. Desperate for him so openly without his coaxing.

His voice just spurs you further, feeling shivers down your skin that the pet name still incites. Sliding your hands up your torso, you lean over him so that your lips can meet once more. So that you can taste the hint of pleas on his tongue, but never voiced.

His hands grasp your rear, squeezing, helping move you to rub the head of his cock against your entrance. Wanting to tease yourself alongside him, you press your hips down just enough to take the head of his length in, then slowly drag it out. It’s enough to make him grunt into the kiss, his nails to dig into your cheeks, before you push down again in the same manner.

Clenching your inner walls, pressing him against that wonderful spot within you.

It’s him that breaks the kiss. A groan unbidden, and you use it to your advantage - nipping along his jaw, rewarding him with a moan of his name. It does nothing but fuel the desires between you, and his hands grip hard, but refuse to force you down.

Nails drag along his skin, etching thin and raised lines on his chest as you settle back onto your knees. The motion has his length easing deeper inside of you, his mouth slack in a silent groan as you take him in to the hilt.

It’s easy to see the beast inside of him trying to wake. His muscles tense as he tries to shift to his elbows, to begin to sit and control the movements from this point onward- but you’re faster. With a firm hand, you push back on his chest and force him against the sheets, shaking your head as your hips lift. Inching him back out until only the head of his cock remains, and then-

“Mmmph… taking the reins today? Ah!” He sucks in a breath as your hips slam back down, a gasp breaking free as stars fill your head.

How can you be so sensitive just from this? It feels as though your body is sizzling in barely contained excitement, fires burning within you begging for more fuel to send them blazing. The answer becomes clear, however, when you look down at your lover. Beneath you, he's melting into the sheets with a lazy grin, gazing up at you with such intense love glowing in his eyes that it steals your breath away.

The pace you languidly set makes you sigh happily, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure creeps over your skin. Gone are the anxieties that usually lay heavy upon you. Instead, your mouth opens with mewls you rarely voice, beginning to rise in tempo while you work your hips faster, harder.

You want nothing more than to feel his lips on you, to steal warmth in the way of kisses and suckling marks upon your skin. But the moment he does so, you know you'll be doomed to lose control, to naturally submit to his spoiling.

No. This morning, you want to let him feel as though he's still relishing in dreams, to succumb to your needy display of love for him.

Each drag of his cock along your walls makes your toes curl, lewd noises of your sex clapping against his fill the room. Panting heavily, you finally venture your hands along your body, seeking your sensitive spots, groping your breasts. It draws out a moan of his name, and Gilbert echos it with one of your own.

He still refuses to take control away from you, keeping his hold firm on your hips, following the roll of them with his own. His eyes never leave your face, watching intently, soaking such a display in to burn into his memory.

But you notice something new: his tongue darting out to lick his lips, words attempting to form before he decides against it. The moment you notice is the moment you realize just how lonely your mouth feels.

Stretching over him, you cup his cheeks and bring your lips together with a fierce kiss, whimpering his name as your clit brushes against his pelvis. In seconds, one of his hands entwines with your hair, keeping you in place as he feverishly presses bruising kisses against your mouth, little gasps of your name said between them: a prayer of his, a mantra that makes your head spin more and more.

The reason is clear as he finally shares control with you, pushing his hips to meet yours on every thrust you direct, an unheard of keen leaving his throat as his brows furrow. You've driven him to new depths of voicing his need, and each slip of his pleasure has your confidence swell.

You manage to break apart from his lips, even when he nips yours once in an attempt to coax you back. To make up for it, your teeth trace his neck, worrying the skin there as you clench your inner walls, pulling another groan from him. He's so close. The impatience behind his actions, the way his neediness is rising, forfeiting subtly by the rise of his hips, the lapse in control of his hips.

“Gil,” the nickname is soft on your tongue, rolling off in a seductive tone you rarely muster. In response, his grip on you tightens, “you're the only one who can fill me up, Gil. I need it- I need you. I need to feel you deep inside me. Claiming me- mmph!”

Your own words are broken apart as he groans, pushing into your cunt as deep as he can manage.

A flush of heat pulses into you, making you whimper and clench onto him- instinctively, your pussy clamps down, coaxing him to spill every drop he has. He obliges, this time taking the remnants of control, delivering a handful of slow, harsh thrusts to delve his cum in deep before he inches his cock out of your swollen cunt. Leaving you resting on top of him as he drops his head back, letting out a long sigh of relief.

It's faint, but you can feel the heat that was spilled inside you. The sensation is odd, to say the least, but not unwelcome as it fills your thoughts with satisfaction; a perverse display of his love for you, intermingled with fulfillment of your unspoken wants.

As his cum leaks from your entrance, dribbling down your labia, the droplets collect on his abdomen. There's an impulse to apologize, to sheepishly use whatever is available to wipe away the proof of your desires hitting a new peak, but with exhaustion seeping deep into your muscles, you find it hard to care. You're both preoccupied with filling your lungs again, bathing in the afterglow of new experiences.

As you breathe life back into your tired body, a familiar sensation starts to creep back into your bones. Ache. A buzz of feeling exposed… embarrassment… you feel your cheeks begin to heat up, and it's then that Gilbert chuckles into your ear, arms staying firmly wrapped around you.

Peeking up at him, you're granted a lopsided grin- one that makes his eyes crinkle in joy. And suddenly, you're not so bashful when seeing your lover so relaxed and happy.

His lips find yours in a kiss still lingering with passion from before, cupping your cheek to keep you from shying away. A nip, and he draws out a giggle, smiling into the next kiss he gives you. Again and again, until you have to break to fill your lungs once more.

“Mmn, little rabbit… I like this side of you. You'll be showing it to me more, okay?”

You hide your grin against his chest, relieved from the worry weighted upon you from exploring your desires.

Thank you, Funger music covers, for helping me finally finish this.

This has actually been a wip since...........june................ it's been rough trying to get this out - I wanted to, but life had different plans. It's hard for me to look at it without feeling like it's so-so solely due to the fact that I've reread it SO much and the imagry in my head is hard to convey to words - however!! I think despite that, this is pretty good :] I'm happier with it now. Thank you RJ for cheerin me on with this one.

I think Gilbert loves being topped, and wants to be so badly. Apparently JP version might have an event about this? I'm expecting the typical cybird cop-out, but hey! Pushed me to finally finish this!

Ikepri Masterlist || Ikevamp Masterlist || Ikepri/Vamp Server

Taglist (Sign-up form here!): @ridiculouslly-ridiculous @xbalayage @bubblexly @queengiuliettafirstlady @keithsandwich

@nightghoul381 @skoetiepoetie @katriniac @namine-somebodies-nobody

@pawnkyyy @floydsteeth @rjthirsty @faustianfascination

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#ikemen prince #ikemen prince gilbert #ikepri #ikepri gilbert #gilbert von obsidian

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sara-scribbles · 2 years ago

Text

The Littlest Dragon (Part 1)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Summary: Your quiet life as a herbalist is disrupted when you take in an injured dragon Word Count: 5,768 Notes: I just really want a mini-dragon Warnings: None

Part 1, Part 2 Part 3

You almost mistake the bundle of black for a pile of cloth. Upon closer inspection, you can see shiny obsidian scales that shimmer in the light. The creature is larger than a squirrel but smaller than a house cat. Unsure what to do, you approach him cautiously but he doesn’t move.

Gently turning him over, your eyes widen. “A dragon?” Despite his small size, he has definite features of the powerful beasts just squished together in a smaller form.

A quick once over, you can see a twisted front leg and one wing bent at an odd angle. The creature's chest moves up and down but you can almost make out a pained gasp. Making a snap decision, you carefully wrap the dragon in your coat before rushing back home. Your half filled basket of herbs forgotten.

Bursting through the gate, you startle the three chickens resting nearby. The cluck loudly as you give a quick apology. Setting the dragon down on your table inside the cottage, you wash your hands before grabbing what you need.

Setting the armload of potions, salves and bandages, you get to work patching up the dragon. Thankfully the little guy stays passed out throughout the process. You clean and disinfect the wounds before applying salves. You create a makeshift splint for the front leg and wing. After finally satisfied, you slump down in a chair.

Watching the creature curiously, you decide to let him rest until he wakes up. You aren’t sure about the healing rate of dragons let alone such a small one.

Resting your cheek on the table, you gently stroke the top of his head. You’re fascinated by the two horns that curl back into his head. “I didn’t realize they could be so small,” you mumble.

Letting out a deep sigh, you take the dragon upstairs to your bedroom. You place a pillow on a chair in the corner of your room and set him down. Recalling a lesson on dragons, you bundle a spare blanket around him for a makeshift nest. Leaving the creature to rest, you return downstairs to clean up.

---

A few days go by but the dragon remains asleep. You periodically check in on him to change the dressings and reapply the salves. You’re happy to say the wounds are healing nicely. However, you’re starting to worry if the dragon will ever wake up.

It’s the middle of the night when you’re roused from sleep. Blearily opening your eyes, you meet the deep green gaze of the dragon. He stands on the pillow next to your own. His tongue flicks out making you flinch.

“Oh, you’re finally awake,” you mutter. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up, which causes the dragon to step back. “How’d you even get over here?” You finally notice the bandages on the wing missing, but he seems perfectly fine.

He tilts his head to one side. Dragons are said to be intelligent creatures, you recall. “Do you want something to eat? I assume you’re probably hungry after sleeping for five days.”

Without waiting for an answer, you get out of bed and head downstairs with the little creature flying after you. You manage to make a simple plate of beef and vegetables. Watching the dragon attack the meal with such ferocity, you realize he must have been starving despite seeming so calm. Once he finishes the meal, he sits back with his claws on his stomach.

“Satisfied?” You chuckle as you notice food all over his face. He stays completely still as you clean his face.

Leaning an elbow on the table, you both stare at each other. “So… what do I call you?” He only lets out a gurgling of growls in response. “How about Tsunotarou?” He seems to nod as if your silly name is an acceptable one for a dragon.

“Well, it seems like your wing is healed, but your front leg still needs a bit of time. If you want, you can stay here until then,” you offer.

He says something you don’t understand once more, but looks satisfied as he decides to perch on your shoulder. “Alright, let's go back to bed. I have an early morning.” Yawning, you head back upstairs for some sleep.

---

You live in a cottage away from others. It was a gift from your late parents. Small but cozy, you don’t mind the solitude. In the front, you have a chicken coop with three hens. You also have a small barn for your goat, Phillis. In the back, your garden grows a few vegetables, fruits and herbs. The woods nearby provide you with wild herbs and berries. Anything else you need, you can go into town or ask Ace and Deuce to bring them.

As a herbalist, you create salves and potions, which you sell in town once a week. Unlike most herbalists, you lack magic. However, that’s never stopped you from doing your job. Plus you were taught by the best of the best, so the quality of your work is great.

The usual day consists of you getting up early to feed the chickens and goat. Then you take stock of your inventory. After, you usually head into the woods to gather herbs. The rest of the day consists of brewing potions and salves, and tending to the garden. At night, you make dinner, make sure the chickens are in their coop, and do some light reading before bed. Rinse and repeat.

It may seem dull to most, but you enjoy the routine. Sometimes your day is broken up by a visit from Ace and Deuce, an adventuring duo, who you’ve known since school. They argue and fight, but ultimately work well as a team when needed. Their antics never fail to make your day entertaining.

Today when you get up, the dragon follows you. In the kitchen you make a breakfast of eggs and a fruit bowl. It seems Tsunotarou isn’t too picky on what you feed him as he gobbles everything up. After a quick cleanup, you and your new companion head outside. Your three chickens are already awake. They strut around the front yard as you grab a bag of feed.

“Alright, ladies, time for breakfast,” you call. Sprinkling the food, the three descend near you in a flurry of white and brown feathers.

Tsunotarou, who perched himself on your shoulder, leans forward watching in rapt interest. “Do you want to try to feed them?” you ask, holding the bag of feed up.

Using his good claw, he picks up a small handful before tossing them in the air. Most of the feed falls on the ground, though some does fall on the chickens. “Maybe aim a little more toward the ground,” you chuckle.

The three start trying to eat the feed off each other's backs, which causes a lot of squawking. One pecks another on the head rather viciously. “Flora, that’s not nice! Now apologize to Merryweather,” Scolding the chicken, she seems to deflate a bit before sulkily wandering off with a sad cluck.

Shaking your head, you set aside the chicken feed to grab food for Phillis. “Those two always seem to be fighting,” you tell Tsunotarou, who continues to watch the three hens. “Fauna is the mild mannered one of the group, thankfully. I guess she balances them out.”

Phillis comes trotting over the moment you're within sight. Patting her head, you scratch her behind the ears. “Morning, princess.” She bleats happily at the attention. The little dragon flies off your shoulder to get a better look at Phillis. She noses his stomach curiously as he reaches out to pat her on the snout.

“She’s a gentle one.” You smile as she nudges your side to hurry you up on getting her breakfast. “Okay, okay! I’m getting there.”

Once you give her food and water, you head back inside to your work room. You go through your current stock of ingredients while Tsunotarou flips through the thick tome of recipes. You wonder briefly if dragons can read, but knowing how highly intelligent they are, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.

“That was given to me by my former teacher, Crewel. He taught me everything I know about brewing potions,” you explain as you check things off. “He was a tough teacher, but I learned from the best. I still have nightmares about that riding crop…” Not that he ever used it on you, but when he wanted to make a point, he made one.

You continue, “The potion and salve I used for you is for speeding up the healing process. It supposedly works on all living creatures, so I was hoping it would work on dragons.”

Tsunotarou leaves the tome to come over to your side. You shake your head as you reread your lists. “I seem to be out of a lot of stuff,” you mutter to yourself.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh. “I’ll have to make a trip into town.” Glancing at the creature on your shoulder, you regard him silently. His intelligent green eyes stare back as he stretches his wings.

“So, I either have to leave you here alone.” He bristles, eyes narrowing. “Or, you have to stay hidden until we get back from town.” You aren’t sure how people would react if they saw a small dragon on your shoulder. It would be better not to take the chance of possibly causing a commotion.

He agrees to your second option as he flies off your shoulder and lands in the satchel you keep hung up near the front door. His head pokes out when you don’t move. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”

You leave for the main shopping center with the dragon in tow. A bit nervous, you try to calm yourself through the walk. Tsunotarou pokes his head out taking in the scenery. At least someone is feeling fine.

The hustle and bustle of the town can be heard as you near the gate. The guards let you through without much of a glance. Here, adventures and merchants can check in the numerous guilds while stocking up on supply. It’s always busy as people move in and out. You only really stop here every few months to get supplies. By now, the shops you frequent are familiar with what you need, which makes shopping a little easier.

First stop is to pick up some herbs. Looking at your herb list, you easily weave your way through the streets. “I was dangerously low on four leaf clovers and died mandrakes…”

“Hello?” The greenhouse is quiet as you don’t see anyone. “Jack?” You tap the little bell on the front counter.

Finally, someone comes to the front. “Hey, (Y/N),” Jack greets with a nod. Though just a part-timer, he knows the greenhouse inside and out.

Smiling, you point to your list. “Just need to restock a few things.” Handing the list over, he quickly looks everything over.

“I’ll be right back with everything.” He’s gone in a flash.

You feel Tsunotarou wiggle around in the satchel before poking his head out. “You have to stay hidden,” you whisper, placing a finger over your lips.

His head turns this way and that way before he retreats back into the bag. Just in time too as Jack returns with your things. Scratching his head, his ears twitch. “Uh, sorry we’re out of powdered death caps. We oughta be getting some next week.”

“That’s fine. I don’t think I’ll be needing them right away. Can you put me on the list to set some aside when they come in?” He leans over to hand you the other items. He pauses for a moment, his brows drawing together as his eyes dart around.

“Jack?” You inch back a bit. You can only hope he’ll ignore whatever he’s smelling.

Seeming to remember himself, he pulls back with an awkward cough. “S-sorry…” He hastily scribbles your name down in a small book. “That’ll be thirty-three for the rest.”

As you reach in your satchel for your coin purse, your hand brushes against the dragon hiding there. Freezing up, your gaze darts over to Jack, who thankfully is busy doing something else. You feel coins being pressed into your hand. Glancing inside your bag, Tsunotarou looks up at you expectantly. He flicks his tongue out a few times.

Counting the coins in your hand, you can’t help the grin spreading across your face. He had given your exact change. “Somethin’ up?” Jack inquires, noting the way you’re looking down.

Snapping your attention back to him, you shake your head. “Nope. Here’s the money.” You hurriedly hand him the coins. “I’ll see you next week, Jack.” Giving him a rushed wave, you quickly leave the greenhouse.

Once a good distance away, you let out a deep sigh. “I think that went well.” Opening your satchel a bit, you’re met with judging green eyes. “Don’t look at me like that! I panicked!”

Shoving the bag of herbs into a corner of the satchel, Tsunotarou curls deeper into the bag. Letting the satchel bag flap fall back down, you return to the other lists you made. “Guess we’ll visit Sam’s shop next…”

Sam’s is busy as usual when you arrive. Pushing through the throng of customers, you make your way to the shelf filled with bottles. Picking out a few that you need for potions, you move on to the jars. By the time you go to checkout, you can feel Tsunotarou squirming inside the satchel. He pokes his head out every now and then, but only does it when there aren’t many people around. People are too busy with their own shopping, they don’t even glance your way.

“Welcome back, little imp!” Sam greets.

You return the greeting with a wide smile. “Hey, Sam. Just the usual.” As Sam wraps each glass bottle in brown paper, you mentally do the math of how much you owe.

He carefully splits your items into two bags. “That’ll be one-hundred unless you’re looking for something out of stock?”

“No, I’m good for today.” You reach into your satchel and Tsunotarou presses the coins into your hand. “Here you go.”

Sam eyes your bag with interest but doesn’t say anything. “See you next time!”

You’re thankful that Sam doesn’t pry. The next stores are all uneventful. By the time you’re walking back home, you have an armload of bags. Your satchel can usually hold more, but the extra guest makes it difficult to fit anything beyond the herbs in there.

Once home, you put everything away before feeding everyone. Later, you’re stretched out in front of the fireplace with a botany book in hand. Tsunotarou is curled up on your lap while you read and take notes along the pages. Though you’re used to being alone, it’s like a familiar comfort to feel his weight on your lap.

When it’s time for bed, you carry the still sleeping dragon upstairs. Putting Tsunotarou in the makeshift nest, you climb into bed. However, before you can fall asleep, Tsunotarou flies over with the blanket in his mouth. Standing at the edge of the bed, it’s almost like he’s giving you puppy dog eyes.

Rolling your eyes, you pat the empty spot near your pillow. “Fine, come on.”

He lets out a satisfied chirp. He wraps the blanket in a neat pile before laying down. Laying on your side, you chuckle while scratching the top of his head. “Good night, Tsunotarou.”

---

At the end of the month you’re preparing a few potions that need to be bathed in moonlight. Tsunotarou sets down the vials you’ve finished in the rack on the windowsill near the front door. You're grateful to have the extra…claws while juggling a few other things at once.

“One more glamor potion and that should be the last of the orders,” you tell Tsunotarou as he perches on your shoulder while you’re stirring the cauldron. “Thanks for the help.” You give him a little scratch under his chin.

You swear he purrs with the way you feel his body vibrate. “I swear you’re a cat disguised as a dragon,” you chortle while bopping him on the nose.

He stares back at you before slowly blinking in return. “You can’t blame me for making the connection. You even caught a snake and left it as a gift,” you continue while sprinkling in some crushed rose petals. “Also, you shouldn’t do that again.”

The dragon grumbles deep within his chest. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, but let's leave the wildlife alone.”

Pouring the potion into a vial and sealing it, you hand it off to Tsunotarou, who takes it into his paws before flying off to put it in the rack. Taking a seat, you lean back with a deep sigh.

Tsunotarou returns, taking a seat on the table. His front paw is fully healed and is no longer wrapped in bandages. Despite being back to full health, it doesn’t seem like he plans to go anywhere.

Suddenly there’s a commotion of loud squawking before the front door is thrown open. “Oi! (Y/N), we’re back!” Ace shouts while letting the door bang.

You tumble back in the chair and hit the ground. “Ahhhkk-ow!” Your head rebounds off the floor with a loud smack.

Two things happen at once. Deuce, who’s behind Ace, rushes over to help you up; however, he’s met with a hissing dragon blocking him that spits red flames at him. His sleeve automatically catches fire and the cottage is filled with panicked, confused screaming.

“Ahhhahhhhhck! Put it out!”

“Is that a dragon!?”

While the two run around screaming, you stare in a daze at the ceiling. Tsunotarou’s face suddenly fills your vision. He chirps a few times before you finally respond with a pat on his head. “I’m okay…”

Slowly sitting up, you notice the two idiots are now quiet. Deuce is no longer on fire, thankfully. However, they take in the sight of Tsunotarou sitting on your shoulder from a safe distance. You wince when you touch the already forming lump on the back of your head.

You huff before glaring at the redhead. “What did I say about suddenly bursting through the front door, Ace?! Can’t you knock like a normal person?”

“Well…I-I…!” Ace sputters unintelligibly before he jabs a finger at the dragon on your shoulder. “Forget about me for a second! What’s that thing?!”

Tsunotarou bares his teeth with a low growl. “We are going to have this conversation later,” you tell him before shifting gears. “This is Tsunotarou. I found him in the forest a little over a month ago.”

“Is he like a baby dragon?” Deuce asks, eyes wide.

Picking up the fallen chair, you shake your head. “I don’t think so. Anyways, baby dragons are much larger. Maybe he’s just a special type of dragon?”

Ace leans closer but pulls back when Tsunotarou snaps at him. “Kinda vicious. He almost barbecued poor Deucy.”

“You also busted in here suddenly. He probably thought you two were threats,” you point out. “Anyways, What trouble did you get into this time?”

“Psssh! Why’d you think we got in trouble?”

“Because you have an infected, bleeding wound on your arm, Ace.” Rolling your eyes, you go to your workroom before returning with a handful of potions, salves, and bandages. “Sit.”

As they plop down, you hand them each a potion. “We had a commission to take down some orcs that were terrorizing a small village,” Deuce explains. “But, uh, turns out it was actually a colony of orcs.”

“So you got beat up?” You clean Deuce’s cuts, which are mostly minor. A few do need some salve and bandages.

You move on to Ace, who looks the worse between the two. “We didn’t get beat up,” Ace grumbles. “We took them down! Aaaa-ouch!!” Biting your lip, you continue to dab his infected wound.

“You two get into more trouble than anyone I know. Did you at least get a good reward?”

“Of course!” Ace pulls out a hefty coin purse and lets it fall on the table. “All in a day's work.” He grins smugly with his nose in the air.

Flicking his nose, you shake your head as he covers his face. “Don’t freely show that off or you’ll get mugged. Again.” Finished with his wounds, you place a small container of salve in his hand. “Use this once a day until everything is gone. It should, hopefully, not scar.”

“Um, (Y/N), can we crash here?” Deuce asks. He shrinks back when you give him a look.

Rubbing your temples, you sigh, “Fine. But one of you is gonna be sleeping on the floor cause I only have one couch.”

Ace jumps up. “Dibs!”

“Wait, you got the couch the last time! It’s my turn!” Leaving the two bickering adventurers, you head upstairs to find some spare blankets.

Tsunotarou gives you a questioning look as you rummage around in your closet. “They’re good friends. A little annoying at times, but they’ve always had my back.” You can’t count how many times they’ve slept at your place.

“They’re just as rowdy as they were in school,” you mutter as you head back down with two pillows and some blankets.

---

You can’t sleep. Tossing and turning, you finally settle on your back to glare at the ceiling. Ace and Deuce both snore loud enough to be heard from your bedroom. Tsunotarou had disappeared though you weren’t too worried. He would sometimes leave in the middle of the night, most likely to hunt, but he would always return by the time you got up.

Sitting up, you carefully make your way downstairs. “Maybe something to eat will help,” you mumble. You spot Ace hanging off the couch, so you know who lost the argument.

Just as you’re about to tiptoe around Deuce, you hear some loud clucking. Eyes furrowing, you wonder why the hens are up at this hour. Forgetting about your midnight snack, you head to the front door. Stepping outside, the air is warm but nice enough for early summer. Before you can move, you notice a figure standing near the chicken coop.

Not only is it strange to see a person at this time, but there’s also one other thing making you pause and rethink your plans. The moon hangs large in the sky and bathes the world in an ethereal silvery glow. The stranger stands there, head tilted upward to the sky, completely still.

And completely naked.

Slowly closing the door, you slide the deadbolt in place with a muffled click. Hopefully the naked stranger will leave. You doubt the deadbolt would keep anyone out if they actually wanted to break in. However, the act of using it at least gives you a small peace of mind.

Deciding the hens can take care of themselves, you head back to bed. You’re far too tired to deal with whatever nonsense is happening outside. As you drift off to sleep, your last thought is of Tsunotarou. You send a small prayer to whoever is listening that he’s alright.

However, you're woken by a loud crash. And then. “AHHHHHH!!!” “DO SOMETHING!!!”

Bolting out of bed, sunlight filters through the window. Despite feeling like you didn’t sleep at all, it’s morning. You grab the nearest object, a broom, before rushing downstairs. In your haste you nearly slip but manage to catch yourself. Wielding the broom, you’re ready to smack whatever intruder is causing trouble.

Instead of a naked intruder, you witness Ace trying to put out a fire with one of your spare pillows. Deuce is rushing over with a cup of water and dumps it on the flaming blanket. It goes out with a loud sizzle. Both boys let out a relieved sigh as you set the broom down.

“Mind telling me what’s going on?” you ask, not amused.

“Your overgrown lizard,” Ace jabs a finger at Tsunotarou, who is sitting on top of the table, “tried to set me on fire! He tried to murder me!!”

You glance at Deuce, who is still clutching the cup, then back at the frazzled redhead. “Did you do anything to him? Tsunotarou doesn’t just attack people out of nowhere.”

Ace rubs the back of his neck as he suddenly loses the fire in his eyes. “I…I might have said he got fat… And that you should get rid of him,” he admits. “B-But! I’m not wrong! He’s gotten bigger overnight. Soon he’ll be too big for your house!”

Your attention goes to the dragon, who sits patiently while watching the scene. You can’t deny that he’s gotten bigger. Now he’s the size of a large cat, possibly even bigger. “Do dragons usually have growth spurts?” you wonder aloud.

“I don’t remember reading about this at school,” Deuce says, nodding thoughtfully.

“Would you two think about the bigger issue!? He’s gonna grow too big and probably eat us all! That’s what dragons do!” Ace shouts, waving his hands around wildly.

Walking over to Tsunotarou, you gently stroke his head. “You wouldn’t do that would you?” He gurgles happily, leaning into your touch. “See. He wouldn’t eat us. We’re not very tasty anyways.”

Ace slaps a hand over his face. “(Y/N), he’s a dragon! Not a pet!”

“I know. And dragons are highly intelligent, which means they can understand us.” You chuckle when he rubs against your arm. “I’m pretty sure if Tsunotarou wanted to eat us, he would’ve burned us all alive by now.”

Deuce shudders. “Morbid…”

“Oh yeah!” You completely ignore the last comment. “There’s possibly a naked stranger wandering around this area. I saw him standing near the chicken coop last night.” Tsunotarou makes a noise in the back of his throat.

“...what?” Both boys stare at you before scrambling for the front door.

“Pretty sure he left already!” They don’t hear you as they race outside still in their sleepwear. Lifting Tsunotarou into your arms, you huff, “You’ve gotten heavier too. I’m not sure if you’ll be able to fit in my satchel now.” He only nuzzles your face with his scaly snout.

Coming outside, the hens are just fine. Tsunotarou flies out of your arms to grab the bag of feed. Deuce watches in rapt interest as he throws chicken feed in front of the hens. “He actually helps out?” he asks, surprised.

It really is a sight to see. “Yup. He’s been helping with small things here and there. He even hands me ingredients when I make potions.”

Once the hens are properly fed, he flies off to take care of Phillis. Despite her initial fear of him, Phillis seems to have gotten used to him. You two follow behind to Phillis's pen. Tsunotarou pats the top of her head while she eats.

“I never thought I’d see a dragon taking care of a goat instead of eating one…” Deuce looks both perplexed and awed.

“Hey!” Ace storms over with twigs and leaves in his hair. “What the hell, Deuce!”

“Huh??”

“I thought we were looking for the weirdo (Y/N) saw. Instead you leave me to do the work.” he grumbles.

Deuce gestures over to Tsunotarou. “I-I got distracted,” he sputters.

The redhead barely passes a glance over to the dragon. “Excuses like always, Deucy.”

“Did you find anything,” you ask, distracting Ace.

“Nah. Think whoever it was left.” Ace shakes his head.

Resisting the urge to say “I told you so” because he didn’t listen, you head back inside. “Come on, unless you wanna stay in your pajamas.”

While Ace gets cleaned up in the bath, Deuce helps with getting breakfast ready. “Hey, do you want us to ask Riddle to come over?”

You hand a plate to Tsunotarou to bring to the table.“Why?”

“To get some protective runes made around the perimeter of your place. Maybe it’ll keep the weirdo you saw out.” There’s a huff and light growl from behind him. “Uh… is he okay?” He inches away from the irritated dragon.

You scratch the top of Tsunotarou’s head, which causes him to almost vibrate. “Something wrong, Tsunotarou? Are you worried about the weirdo too?” You chuckle when he butts your arm with his head.

“You don’t seem too worried,” Deuce points out.

“Milk or orange juice?” You hold up two jugs.

“Milk, please.”

“I mean, I think if that stranger wanted to hurt us, he would've broken down the door. The deadbolt doesn’t do much,” you say while setting down glasses. “I’ll be fine, Deuce, so don’t worry.”

“...sure,” he agrees hesitantly. You can still see the concern on his face, but before you can say anything more, Ace comes down.

“Breakfast ready?” He slides into a chair looking around expectantly.

You hand him a bowl of fruit. “No thanks to you.”

Breakfast is a lively affair with the two extra guests. Ace and Deuce keep the conversation going as they regale you with their latest adventure in detail. It goes by far too quickly for your taste. Sure your days aren’t so quiet with Tsunotarou, but it does get somewhat lonely having a one-sided conversation.

“Well, Tsunotarou, it’s just you, me and the girls again,” you say with a deep sigh. You set him on the ground with a groan. “Okay, buddy, you’re a little too heavy to hold for long periods now.”

He lets out a pitiful sound before rubbing his head against your thigh. “Come on, let's get the rest of the day started.” As you go back into the house, Tsunotarou doesn’t immediately follow.

His sharp green eyes survey the area around your home. Tongue flickering out, a low snarl starts in his chest. Something catches his eye in the trees just beyond your fence. His back bristles as he opens his mouth. Green flames swirl around his mouth as his eyes narrow.

“Tsunotarou, are you still out here?” you call, coming back outside. Lifting him up, you don’t notice the way his gaze is focused on something else. “Are you mad that I can’t carry you?” you ask with a chuckle.

The dragon doesn’t respond as he rests his snout on your shoulder. As you close the door, his gaze never leaves the line of trees. There’s a flash of yellow before the door is firmly shut.

---

To your surprise Ace and Deuce return a few days later. And even more of a surprise, Riddle is with them. You nearly slam the door in their face when you see them. Nervously looking between the two adventures, you can feel heat prickling the back of your neck. Ace avoids eye contact while Deuce sheepishly mouths an apology.

Riddle is the first to speak up. “These two let it slip that you’re harboring a dragon. Being the head of the Heartslabyul Guild, I thought it would be prudent for me to check. Rule 134 states no unregistered magical creatures within 10 miles of the guild are allowed. They must be taken to the appropriate handlers.”

Casting dirty looks at the two, you open the door wider. “Please come in, Riddle.” You rather like having your door on its hinges.

As he enters, he looks around before his gaze zeroes in on the dragon resting on the couch. “It really is a dragon…”

Ace and Deuce carefully slink past you before you shut the door. “As you can see, Riddle, he’s not a danger to anyone.” You try to smile as innocently as possible.

He turns to you. “I realize the rules may not apply to you, (Y/N), since you’re not a part of our guild, but a dragon is dangerous regardless of its size. Ace mentioned he grew bigger last night. Who’s to say he won’t stop growing and then lay waste to everything?”

Said redhead suddenly has a keen interest in your hanging herbs. “Tsunotarou isn’t like that,” you argue. “He’s never hurt anyone and he’s been living with me of all people.” The magicless human who would be a prime target for magical creatures.

Riddle walks over to the now awake dragon. Tsunotarou regards him with keen interest unlike Ace and Deuce. They both size each other up. Riddle’s brows draw together as he continues to observe him.

“Everything okay?” you ask when the staring seems to drag on.

“Did you know there’s a curse on him?” He walks around the couch to observe Tsunotarou on all sides. The dragon doesn’t move an inch but seems fairly relaxed despite Riddle being a complete stranger.

You and the two boys share a look. “No, I didn’t. Is that why he’s so small?”

“Maybe.” He’s unsure. “It’s old magic and very powerful. I honestly don’t know what kind of curse it is.” Standing in front of Tsunotarou once more, Riddle sighs while touching his head. “This is more complicated than I thought. I’ll need to do some research before trying to determine the curse. I might have to ask Vil for his help on this.”

Sitting on the arm of the couch, you stroke Tsunotarou’s head. “Are you cursed?” you ask him. His head bobs up and down. “How come you two didn’t notice?” Your question is directed at the two bean spillers.

“They probably wrote it off as the creature's magical powers leaving a residue,” Riddle answers. He gives them a stern look. “They’ll need to go through more training later.”

Both stiffen as the color drains from their faces.

“So what now?”

Shaking his head, Riddle glances at his pocket watch. “I need to head back to the guild for tea. I’ll look into curses and consult Vil about this as well. For now, just make sure no one else sees him. We don’t want people to think a dangerous creature is on the loose and panic.”

“Alright. Thank you!” At least he’s going to try and help. You know Riddle could have decided Tsunotarou was a danger and taken him away.

When they’re gone, you plop down on the couch. Tsunotarou immediately climbs into your lap and makes himself comfortable. “Cursed huh?” You lift his face so you can look into his eyes. “Are you secretly a prince who got cursed by an evil sorcerer and only true love's kiss can break the spell?” you ask with a teasing grin.

He stares back before blinking slowly. Laughing at the ridiculous thought, you bop his nose affectionately. “I hope Riddle figures out your curse. I’d love to see your full form.”

#twst imagines #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #reader insert #scenario

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mythicalmyles · 2 years ago

Note

Hiya myth! Is it okay for me to request?

Because if it is, then can I request for a reader who is just a big ball of sunshine and a virgin?

You can put any creepy pastas and kinks c: That's all! Thank you :D

-🍀

Naga!Toby x Sunshine!Curious!Reader

(18+, Ovi, Overstimulation, Double pen, Dubcon, rimming, sex venom, breeding)

You stumbled over a branch, letting out a gasp as one sliced across your cheek. You let out a whine as you rubbed your cheek, fingertips coming back red. You pouted and slumped your shoulders, rolling your eyes as you shuffled back to your feet. Your lip twisted as you rooted through your bag, pulling out some antiseptic spray.

You tended your wound as best as you could, hissing as the liquid burned your wound. Luckily you didn't think it was that deep. Part of you was ready to give up, it had already been hours since you had set out on your exploration. But curiosity kept your feet moving, determined to see if the reports were real. Part of you knew it was stupid, for god's sake it was a report from almost 100 years ago.

But when you found it, you knew you had to find out. It was locked up in an old government building for a reason.

And that was that, you booked the flight and bought a boat. It had taken almost a year for you to get to the island, completely isolated and abandoned. It was thick with foliage, leaves almost triple your size. You pulled out a bottle of water, quickly downing the sweet liquid but careful to ration it. It didn't rain often but it was enough to not have to worry too much. The island was also ripe with fruits, it wasn't the best but it could keep you going as far as you needed.

You took in the sight for a moment as you mindlessly slipped your water bottle back into your bag, vibrant greens purples and reds filled your vision. It was breath taking, almost hard to believe somewhere existed on earth that was so beautiful.

You froze for a moment, focusing hard as you tried to listen closer to the sound. You let out a small breath as a smile spread wide across your features, quickly pulling the report out of your bag. It had been burnt but there was at least something to go on.

'Water ran red with blood

Everyone d'

There was water, and you could hear the sound of a very distant waterfall. It sounded really far away but hope overrode your brain and you hastily made your way towards it, batting leaves out of your way.

The sound got louder as you got closer, cementing that you were going in the right direction. You must've been speed walking for an hour before you finally had to stop, chest heaving as you practically dropped against a tree. Your mouth felt as dry as a bone in the desert, you practically ripped your bag open to get your water. Care going out the window as you chugged down the sweet liquid, you drank the entire bottle thanking the stars you at least had two more.

You popped the now empty bottle back into your bag, letting yourself breath as you stared up at the trees. You pulled out the report again, going to the page about its appearance.

'It had a long dark green patterned, scaled tail, it must have went on for at least four foot. It had long black spikes down its back and a ferocious human face permanently set in a scowl. It bleeds black as the night sky as it hisses and spits venom at those who dare get too close. It has already taken out five men

Gus torn in half beast gripped his ne

wont last much lo'

You read as best as you could around the burned edges, feeling bad for the poor creature. It probably just wanted to be alone, instead it was ganged up on and attacked. You knew there was a danger to what you were doing, it wouldn't trust humans. You knew that much. But you hoped coming alone and unarmed might make it see you wouldn't hurt it, you just needed to know more.

If what they had written was true and there really was a Naga out there, you had fixated on the being since you had first read about. Utterly hypnotised and hungry to learn more. A half snake half man, you almost shook in excitement. Surely if it wasn't entirely human then it wouldn't have a human life cycle? It was what you prayed for anyway.

Once you had finally relaxed into the tree you rose yourself back up, shaking out tense thighs and cracking your neck. "Let's go." You whispered to yourself, beginning your journey again.

Just as you felt you were going to drop dead, you finally saw it through the trees. A large pound and the waterfall that sounded like heavens trumpets. With a newfound energy you surged forward, ignoring the leaves and branches that scratched at your skin.

At this point all you could think about was the sweet water, all thoughts flung out of your mind as you raced towards the pond. You dropped to your knees as you cupped your palms and gulped up the water. It could be infected with something but at this point you didn't care, all that mattered was the cold liquid sliding down your throat as you guzzled it down.

You stretched forward, sliding your body into the water and letting out a groan of appreciation as the cool water sloshed against your skin. The heat on the island had gotten unbearable at this point and you finally relaxed as you felt the hot sticky sweat coating your body washed away.

You pushed your self up, shaking the water out of your hair as you finally took a look around. Eyes quickly drawn to the large green striped lump, eyes doubling as you scrambled up and ran over to it. You saw it laying passed out on the ground, you couldn't deny the fact your breath got sucked out of your lungs.

He was gorgeous, thick brown hair framing his pale face. Dark circles ringed his eyes and his chest was defined, his biceps thick. You had no doubt it could kill you in a heart beat, the thought alone excited you in a twisted way. You brushed the thoughts away, bending down and searching him for any obvious wounds. You found what looked like a tip of a spear stuck into his tail, mind thinking back to the report. From the angle it was, he wouldn't have been able to properly grip and pry it out himself.

You frowned, you didn't know it's anatomy. Just what humans guessed was it's anatomy. For all you knew you could tear a vein pulling it out, yet the thick yellow and black crust that had built up around it had your chances limited. It was clearly infected, it had to be removed.

You squatted down, hands grasping the spear tip as you pulled with all your might. His skin was thick and clung to it, but you finally got it, throwing it as far away as you could. Blood quickly ran from the wound and without a second thought you pulled your shirt off and used it to try and clot the wound. A sudden hiss and you dipped down just in time to miss venom that had been shot at you.

"I want to help!" You yelled out, keeping pressure on the wound. "Please don't move." He stilled, looking at you with an untrusting glare. Yet he made no move as you kept pushing down on his wound, his black blood soaking through your shirt and coating your hands.

"Why?" He hissed, baring his fangs at you in warning. "You didn't deserve what happened. I just. Want to know more about you." You hoped he was see the sincerity on your face, instead he spat again. At least he didn't aim for you. You tumbled back onto your ass as it rose up, towering over you and making you feel tiny.

You anxiously gazed up at him, fear sparking through your body. "Ssso you can tell other humanss where I am?" His voice bellowed and you swore it shook the entire forest. You threw your hands up, shaking them and your head. "No! I swear! I wont ever tell anyone." You gasped out as you slid back, his eyes glowing as his slit pupils constricted. His eyes searched your body. "You wont. You can't leave now." Your face dropped when he suddenly ripped you up into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"You would look ssssoo pretty full of my eggss." Your eyes bulged out as you choked. "Wh-what?" You shrieked out, panic swimming through your veins and stabbing you straight into the heart. "Theress no otherss like me. You will do." He chuckled as a long tongue suddenly ran up your neck, you let out a deep breath as you froze.

His abnormally long tongue ran over your neck, leaving saliva in its trail as it explored you. Whimpers left you when his tongue finally found your nipple, massaging the bud and smirking as you twitched in his grasp. He had no idea humans were so sensitive. He pulled you off of him, dropping you to the floor before quickly turning you around and shoving you face first into the ground.

You whined as he yanked off your shorts, clawed hands grasping your ass and spreading it apart. You dug your nails into the ground, yelping when you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your ass. "Wha-wha." You choked out, getting cut off when he dove his tongue into you. "A-Ah!" You whined out, back arching as his tongue dug deep inside of you rubbing the most sensitive parts of you.

You shook in his hold as he ate you out, his cheeks pressing against you as drool dripped down your ballsack. You sobbed as you rocked back, lost in the feeling of his tongue twisting inside of you. Your voice only got higher, his fingers leaving bruises on your ass as he gripped you tight, trying to keep you in place.

"Puh-please." You begged, entire body shaking. He slipped a finger into you, slurping obscenely around the digit. You came hard, you hadn't ever felt anything like this. You hadn't been touched by anyone before, and here a supposed mythical creature was tongue deep inside of you and you felt like you were floating away.

Despite already cuming you whined when he pulled his fingers and tongue out, a chuckle coming from him as he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his hips. He pulled you close, mouthing your neck before biting down onto your flesh. You let out a groan at the pain, face scrunching up as your body began loosing up.

"What. Are you doing?" You questioned, voice lethargic. "You could never take me with out thiss." Instead of questioning him you rested your chin on top of his shoulder, almost passing out in his arms.

The feeling of something slimy rubbing against your hole had you moaning and pulling back, lidded eyes gazing at the naga. His hand wrapped around your neck, keeping your face in his view as he began sinking you down onto his cock. You whined desperately the further he pushed in, lungs sinking as you were stretched beyond your limit. Desperate begging falling from your lips as he bottomed out inside of you.

You looked down to see your stomach bulge with his cock, lips dropping and moaning at the sight of it. "You will do very good indeed." Toby thanked the god's for this, finally he had been provided a suitable mate to store his eggs inside of.

He easily bounced you on his cock, drinking in every moan that left your lips. Smirk coating his face as he watched his little mate writhe with pleasure all because of him. You were reduced to a moaning whining mess, crying in his arms as pleasure tore your very being apart.

You mindlessly rode him, head flung back as his hand around your neck kept you tethered to reality. You could barley take a breath, his cock hitting deep inside of you. You yelped when he slid two fingers into you, gasping at the burning stretch. "N-no. Too much." You rasped out. He chcukled. "it'ss okay. You can take it. I need to fertilisse my eggss." He grinned before he dove into your neck, sucking into your flesh.

"Aa-." You groaned out, voice wreaked. Once toby had worked four more fingers into you he pulled them out, laughing at the way you whined. "Don't worry. You'll be full sssooon." He drawled out, teeth gleaming in the now moonlight. You hadn't even noticed it hadn't gotten dark.

The feeling of another cock penetrating you threw all thoughts out of the window, breath and body freezing as you gaped at Toby. Choking as he slid his other appendage deep into you. He let out a loud groan. "F-fuck. Ssso goo-good." He groaned out, his self control leaving him as he began ramming into you. He punched the breath back into you and if you could be embarrassed you would, your voice was incredibly pitched and whiney.

You freely cried, moaning as you sobbed. Completely overwhelmed was how you felt as the Naga impaled you on not one but two cocks. You thrashed in his arms as your body shook, cum shooting out of your cock and coating both of your chests. Toby felt victorious, his mate clearly enjoyed their breeding. It made him ecstatic.

It wasn't long before you felt something push into you, before you knew it a few more somethings were shooting into you. You whined in confusion and slight fear, the idea of the naga actually inserting egg's in to you shaking you to your core. "You ca-can take it." You just whined pitifully, fully spent as your body spasmed around his cock.

You watched as your own stomach expanded, jaw dropping. You couldn't tell if you were horrified or excited. Before you could stop yourself you pressed your lips to his, whining into his mouth as his cum flooded inside of you. It felt almost unbearable.

He gently fucked you through it, stopping once he had finally given you all he could. "Ssso pretty. My pretty mate." He grinned while petting your hair, keeping his cocks buried deep inside of you so he didn't spill any of his precious eggs.

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kurogxrix · 1 year ago

Text

Rust In Peace

Hobie Brown x Reader

IN WHICH a day in with your boyfriend Hobie turns into a play fight. However he often tends to forget how strong he actually is, and you suffer the consequences.

[ request ]

“That game’s rubbish, ain’t no spider movin’ like that i’m telling ya’” the deep sound of your boyfriend’s voice made you jump, nearly making you drop your controller as he appeared from seemingly nowhere. Obviously he didn't, because his dripping hair and loosely tied towel that threatened to fall off of his waist told you otherwise.

“How would you know that this is not how spiders move?” you rolled your eyes playfully at him, tone dripping with sarcasm as you turned back around to face the small TV screen.

“Ha. Ha. Funny.” Your boyfriend muttered out in a dry tone, much to your amusement. Hobie made his way towards you, both of your backs pressed comfortably against your couch as you sat on the floor. His hair dripped water everywhere, wetting your shoulder as you voiced out your complaints.

The loud sounds of your playstation probably overheating went deaf to his ears as he stared at you. His attention derived from the “Spider-Man 2” game that was currently running on the screen that you seemed so interested in. Without warning, Hobie threw an arm around you, pulling you flushed against his side as he laid his head above yours.

You paused your game immediately as you felt the wet sensation of Hobie’s hair drenching your own curls, creating a wet spot all the way down to the sleeves that covered your shoulders. The shirt wasn’t even yours in fact, the white ‘Misfits’ skull over the black fabric was evidently Hobie’s.

“God, Hobie move!” you yelled, half laughing and half serious as you tried to pry yourself out of his undying grip. Though the man only continued to pull you closer to him, this time, he pointed his hair towards you in an aim of intentionally getting you drenched. Your struggling only got the both of you shuffling along your apartment’s floor, entangling your limps with the unfortunate wires that were lying besides you both.

You could’ve sworn that Hobie had started tickling you at some point, or maybe you’d started laughing louder out of nowhere. You’d never know, Hobie just seemed to have that effect on people. He was everything that’d make a woman giggle, let alone laugh hysterically like you were right now. He was charming and a little bit tough spoken at times, two different natures that clashed together in the most attractive mix possible.

“Oh ya’ want me to move? Sure i’ll move for you sweetheart.” Before you could even register what was happening, his arms unlatched from your shoulders as you back hit the ground with a thud. You managed to save your head from hitting the floor, despite his move being unexpected. You nearly wanted to smash a vase into your boyfriend's face at the sound of his laughter, and damn did his move just declare an open war.

You sat up straight, hair chaotically out of place as you tried to puff it back to what it used to resemble. You crawled quietly towards the sofa as Hobie watched you between narrow eyes, he was no stranger to your intentions.

“I wouldn’t do that if i was you, darlin’' he spoke, but you paid no mind to it as a pillow came flying towards his face. Plainly missing him because of your shitty aim, Hobie’s expression contorted to one of amusement once more. With heavy footsteps, Hobie approached you with a near-maliciouslook in his eyes. And like a prey to a beast, you found yourself being enabled to move.

Soon enough, his large palms were at your sides. His calloused fingers slide underneath your shirt to grip at your naked skin, the rough skin of his hands itching at your own. Without a further warning, Hobie hoisted you onto his shoulders without much difficulty. You struggled in his arms, trying desperately to escape his hold despite the wide smile that occupied your features. A smile that mirrored his own.

To the open eye, it was odd to see a genuine smile gracing the man’s face. If anything, the maximum they’d receive was a cunning smirk or that sly grin of his. Though you were glad to be blessed with the ability to witness such a scene, it made you feel special - and in Hobie’s heart; you were.

Out of nowhere, you felt Hobie’s arms tighten around your middle, forcing a grunt out of you. Your blindness to the situation - given that you were literally facing the opposite side that your boyfriend currently was - made you unaware of his direction. You felt stupid for being unable to detect his route, because this was your own home. His spaced steps made it hard for you to even get a stable look at your surroundings, and unfortunately for you, you had arrived in your bedroom before you could even decipher.

He threw you rather disgracefully against your own bed, making the mattress recoil under the sheer force of his throw. Before you could even fully register things, the tall punk was hovering right atop of you. The sight of the setting sun’s orange hue hitting his dark skin was something that you’d wish to engrave in your brain forever. He was beautiful, an art piece sculpted in some sort of grungy museum itself. Though the sore sight of him made you breathless, for now you had a boyfriend to fight, so it could wait.

His hands attacked you first, finding your sore spots as he tickled you unrelentlessly. God and if you couldn’t breathe from the sight of him before, you most probably couldn’t now. With both your hands at his shoulders and feet at his waist, you attempted to push him off, but damn was he sturdy.

He wouldn’t move, stuck there like a damned plank as he continued to tickle you.

You were laughing, sure, and it was all fun and games until Hobie moved you up by the waist, the top of your head colliding painfully against your headboard. The pain was so unexpected that it took you a moment to react, simply lying there as your chest heaved up and down, trying to catch your breath.

Then, it all hit you. The awful throbbing that came as an aftermath of the hit. The staggering tingle that it left behind as it felt like your brain was having some sort of disco party in there. Then finally came the tears that prickled in your eyes involuntarily, and the unnecessary additional pain that came with you biting your lips and you tried to stop the tears from escaping. Damn did it hurt so bad but you couldn’t even blame Hobie because you knew that it wasn’t his fault.

It came to times like this where Hobie could forget how his spider-man powers enhanced his senses, thus including his strength that was already great before.

“Shit!” he muttered, his brain circuiting ever since he’d heard the loud thud that resonated around the whole room. Hobie had already climbed off of you by now, deciding that It’d be better if he sat besides you for now. He was too ashamed to meet your eyes after that, and it'd make a damn funny scene to you if you weren’t currently suffering. He watched as you cradled your head, eyes closed shut and your jaw tense as your teeth were clanged shut together.

“ ‘M sorry love, didn't think i’d send you up this forcefully.” he apologised genuinely, making a sliver of a smile raise onto your face. It wasn’t often that Hobie did apologise, and hearing him do it now made you feel more things that you wished you did. After a couple of seconds, you felt a pair of warm hands cupping your head. One placed itself on the side of your head, grazing your hairline with his thumb. The other one settled to cradle your head from behind, pressing painfully against your injury.

If it were for anyone else’s eyes right now, they’d judge you for being frail or sensitive. But no one else in this universe apart from the bad-guys knew how painful it was to be sent back by the one and only (not really only, considering they all meet everyday) Spider-Man. Additionally, Hobie wasn’t necessarily shaped like a bodybuilder, but his rippling muscles did little to appease your hit.

“I’m really a knob, ain’t I?” Hobie tried to joke, wondering if it’s better to leave your injury alone or if he should run a hand over it once more to soothe your pain.

“You really are.” you groaned your words through, although the laughter that came with after was enough to reassure Hobie a little. Now that the worst pain had passed, you were contemplating whether killing him or killing yourself before you developed a bump the size of the moon at the back of your head.

You closed your eyes for a second, exhaling loudly as you spread your arms out widely like and angel, taking up all space on your bed.

“Here, lemme help you,” Hobie mumbled with that deep British accent that made your insides flutter. The material of his worn-out sweatpants brushed against your bare legs as he climbed over you again. You’d try to convince him to get a new pair, but he’d always hit you with some ‘consumerism’ argument. Sometimes you really wondered where he got his clothing from, but that’d be a discovery for another time.

With both of his knees firmly planted besides your hips, Hobie hovered over you carefully. He didn’t even need to be sitting across your torso to hold himself up, because being spider-man surely meant that his thighs were finely trained. Next, Hobie grabbed onto your arms, though you were reluctant to give them to him as you brought them up towards your head. Pulling your arms back down, the punk that was currently above you now looked down at you with a long face.

“Cmon love, y’know I'm not gonna hurt ya’. Unless you’re into that, then we can totally arrange something.” he flirted, as suave as usual.

You fluttered at his words, finding it harder to decipher his intentions now. Hobie grasped your timid state to his advantage, taking your wrists into his hands again. He brought them up to your torso, cross-crossing them so they laid on the opposite shoulder. You bit your lip as you tried to retain your laughter, having now caught onto his intentions. Of course, there could be no other than Hobart Brown in this universe to injure you, then put you in a cartoonish vampire pose.

“We all lay here today-“ Hobie started, his deep voice wavering as he tried to retain himself from chuckling. “to honorate the unfortunate, sorrowful, forlorn, unluck- OW!”

Hobie rubbed his arm dramatically where you had lightly slapped him, having it of listening to him sputter a bunch of synonyms and what not.

You broke character for a second, seconds after having decided to play into his childish game, you smiled at the sound of his suffering. Once your smile faded and the unseen glare that Hobie sent to you had diminished, he began again.

“As I said, the unfortunate death of my poor girlfriend. Who she, died of an injury to the head, the perpetrator is still unknown to this day! Rust in peace.” he cried out, voice full of humorous emotions. God, he was so out of his own character that it made you want to burst out laughing, but for now you had a crowd to entertain. Even if that crowd was the bits of dust that flew ‘round your room.

“I’m so sorry to disrupt your little Bram Stoker fantasy, but I'm no Dracula. Normally, dead people aren’t posed like this.” you finally opened your eyes, pupils pointing towards your torso, your weirdly placed arms being in the spotlight.

“How’d you know, you’ve never been dead?” he sassed, quirking an eyebrow up at you.

“I’ve been to a funeral or two, m’sure that I know more than you.” you rebuked, lowering your arms and untwisting them from one another to lay them upon your stomach. Where they should’ve been.

“Wow edgy,” he rolled his eyes playfully at you, a menacing grin taunting his lips. “And excuse me for my lack of knowledge, but I'm pretty sure dead people can’t talk.”

At that, you simply stared at him with your mouth agape. Like a fish out of water, he mocked your action by recreating it. You winced as you tried to slap him upon the arm again, only for you to end up digging the throbbing part of your head down into your pillow. At last, Hobie finally softened at the sign of your fact twisting in an uncomfortable expression.

You didn’t acknowledge the sound of him leaving the room, his bare feet and sense of tranquillity created a cocktail of perfect stealth as he walked off across the concrete floor. You did, however, feel the sudden sensation of his hand pulling your head up. Then came the painful press of a freezing slip upon the back of your head. It stung at first, but you knew that it’d soon come to soothe your affliction.

You sighed in relief as you felt Hobie joining you down onto the bed. His antics were funny at first, but now you were just tired. You couldn’t wait for sleep to find you, no matter how hard it has been for you recently. Your eyebags are no stranger to yourself, and Hobie is no blind man after all. His hand cradles the back of your head as he finally lies down besides you, urging you onto his chest as his other hand lays behind his head.

Even in such an intimate position, he manages to look casual. Once your head dips to his chest, you’re already half-gone as a midday slumber engulfs you into its arms. Hobie grins warmly to himself, his hand holding the ice pack softly against your head as your head goes limp from the loss of consciousness. Chuckling to himself, he allows himself to close his eyes at his turn, though sleep does not find him. Spider-Man has no time for sleep, because even off duty, he has his own matters to attend.

For now, he’s not busy saving civilians from raging monsters, or travelling throughout the spider-verse to aid other spiders. For now, his mission is to keep that damned ice pack from sliding off your head, and he’s adamant on completing his job.

i was supposed to post this like 2 days ago but each time i had to edit it i kept on falling asleep😭

#hobie brown x reader #hobart brown x reader #atspv #atsp #spider punk #spider punk x reader #hobie brown #hobart brown #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse

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