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bambisspeckles · 7 days ago

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Stowaway ✿ Poly Pirate!141 x Reader

*pics for aesthetics only!

Summary: You accidentally sneak onto pirate crew 141's ship CW: Inaccurate depiction of pirates, poly!141, fem!reader, ghost and price are kinda assholes (for right now), soap is well soap, gaz is an angel sent from heaven, reader is held captive (ish), stockholm syndrome core but like in the way beauty and the beast is, no romance yet (sorry, but don't worry it won't really be a slowburn), self-edited! WC: 1.8k

It was a mistake, honestly you should have just stayed put. You have no idea why you thought it'd be a good idea to sneak onto any ship, at all, ever.

You suppose this cruel fate is karma for your actions.

It started in the early hours of the morning, when many passenger ships were docked. You had decided to pack a small bag with your most important belongings and sneak into one of the ships cargo holds. In theory it was a good idea, you figured most of the crew we be pretty occupied tending to passengers needs, therefore your chances of getting caught and thrown into the ocean were slim. It's a shame you the ship you decided to board wasn't a passenger ship.

You should have known, it didn't look remotely like a passenger ship. There weren't any nice amenities, only one small dining room, not nearly enough beds for the amount of people that come to and from your island, and there were too many suspicious looking locked chests. There was a voice inside your head screaming for you to get off the ship but the adrenaline being pumped through your body was too high, and the yearning to escape the hell your home brought to you overruled almost all your sense of logic and reasoning. When you found the cargo hold, you didn't even think twice before making your way inside, quickly scanning your surroundings to find the best place to hide. You decide to hide behind some unmarked crates, figuring they'd be bothered the least. You squeeze your body behind the boxes, maneuvering so all of you can be hidden well.

It feels like you're there for days, realistically you know that's not true, but you're so close to leaving this island and never looking back. No matter how tempted you are to bolt, you keep yourself firmly planted behind the crates. Finally, you hear voices, it doesn't seem like there's very many people and that makes your anxiety sky rocket, but it's much too late to sneak off and try to find another ship to become a stowaway in. Pushing your knees further into your chest, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your nerves. For hours you hear voices and footsteps above you, but no one seems to have any suspicions. In fact it's been so calm the rocking of the ship has your eyes fluttering shut, you've been fighting sleep but nothing has transpired for so long maybe a few minutes of shut eye won't hurt. As your mind battles between alertness and staying asleep you hear something.

Footsteps. Coming down the steps, right into the cargo hold.

Your heart drops into your stomach and your breath hitches. You squeeze your body into itself in an attempt to make it smaller, one of your hands coming to clasp your mouth shut. The footsteps get louder and louder until you see a large figure standing in the archway. You go rigid as you get a better look at him. He's no average sailor, he's a fucking pirate.

"Great." You think wryly. "If he finds me then I really am dead."

He's moving around some boxes, you're not quite sure why, and for a moment you think he has no clue you're there.

Unfortunately for you, that's where you're wrong.

In the blink of an eye he grabs you from behind your crate wall, holding you by the scruff of your neck like a naughty kitten. The look in his eye is dark, and the rest of his face is covered by a mask, a skull print adorning the fabric. He says nothing, only staring at you for a moment before throwing you over his shoulder and walking back up the steps, presumably to bring you to the rest of the crew.

Oh. you're totally fucked now.

The mans footsteps attract the attention of his crew as he walks across the deck, when he stops walking, he practically throws you onto the ground, forcing you to kneel before three other men.

"Wha' a bonnie thing she is… S' what tha' noise was? Was startin' worry I was finally losin' it." A man, Scottish you think, says as he stares at you. His thumb dragging down the side of your face as a devilish smirk graces his lips.

You flinch under his touch and the Scotsman quickly removes his hand but his touch is soon replaced by another, a man much more imposing than he. Rough hands gripping your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Was wonderin' why it sounded like there was a rat down in the cargo," A dark glint flashes through his eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. "Now tell me, stowaway, wha' the hell are ya doin' on my ship."

Tears well in your eyes as you struggle against his grip, and you can feel his impatience growing as he waits for you to respond. After another moment, the final man turns to speak to you.

"Captain asked ya a question love, best answer him before he gets angry." His voice is surprisingly gentle, and when you meet his gaze, soft brown eyes stare back at you, eyes filled with pity.

The look in his eye breaks you, and fat tears begin rolling down the apples of your cheeks.

"I'm… I'm sorry!" You choke out your words between sobs, your body taut under the piercing gaze of the Captain.

A beat of silence passes before the Captain of the ship releases you from his grip, your body crumbling into itself.

"I didn't know! I didn't- I don't… I just wanted to leave! I promise I didn't take anything a-and you can drop me off at your next stop, just please don't hurt me…" Your words come out watery, your voice hoarse and snot coming out of your nose, ugly sobbing as these men surround you.

The man with the soft brown eyes crouches down next you, his gentle hand wiping tears off your cheeks.

"You poor thing, you're all outta' sorts. M' sure you didn't mean any harm…" He looks towards his Captain but his head is still angled in your direction. "Go easy on her sir, poor thing is trembling."

The Captain scoffs, his arms folding over his chest as he studies you, his gaze scrutinizing, piercing through you.

"She shoulda' thought of that before sneaking onto my ship." He gives you another once over before ordering you to stand on your feet. You figure it's best to do what he says so you rise from the ground, knees almost buckling under you.

The group of men stare at you for a while, seemingly unsure of what to do with you. After a few moments, a deep voice from behind finally speaks, you turn to look at him, his skull mask making your spine tingle with terror.

"We should just throw er' off the ship, no bloody reason to keep the thing around." You wince at the way he refers to you, objectifying, dehumanizing.

"Now, now, Ghost, nae reason tae make such a hasty decision. The kitten's completely harmless! I say we keep er', it'll be so nice to have a bonnie thing on board." The man, Ghost, scoffs.

"We don' need liabilities layin' around Johnny. Sides' got no use for er'. M' sure Price is inclined to agree with me." Ghost turns his head towards Price, presumably waiting for some type of agreeance on what he said.

Before the Captain can even get a word out, he's interjected.

"M' inclined to agree with Soap- for different reasons," He pauses shooting Soap a look, but he merely shrugs back. "But I agree all the same. I mean look at er' poor thing is terrified, I doubt she came to pillage our goods Captain."

Price sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mulls over his, limited, options. Everyone, including you, waits for him with bated breath. Selfishly, you hope he'll keep you around a bit longer, at least then you'll get a chance to make an escape plan.

Finally, the Captain speaks.

"She can stay, for now. We can keep er' in the cellar until I figure out wha' the hell to do with her." His words carry a tone of finality, a fact that has Ghost scoffing.

"You're jus' pickin' sides cause' Gaz wants to keep er' around." He motions towards the man next to you, bitter venom coming out alongside his words.

Gaz rolls his eyes, blowing out with an irritated sigh.

"Price isn't picking sides, he's doing what's right. Just cause' you don't agree with it doesn't mean that-" Price puts his hand on Gaz's shoulder, interrupting his sentence. A silent way of telling him "settle down."

Gaz relaxes under the Captains touch.

"Gaz, Soap, take er' down to the cellar, we'll keep er' there for now. Ghost, come with me to my quarters." Ghost mumbles something in response, but his words are muffled by his mask, something you're sure he's grateful for at this moment.

You, Soap, and Gaz watch him for a moment as he follows Price like a kicked puppy. When they're finally out of view, Soap and Gaz turn their attention back to you.

"C'mon kitten, yer gonna ave' tae be a bit uncomfortable tonight, the Captain didnae plan for any stowaways.." He chuckles at you playfully, something you'd find much more comforting under different circumstances.

You suddenly feel a hand on your back, the skin a bit rough even through the fabric of your clothes. You whip your head to look behind to see Gaz, his soft brown eyes still filled with that same look of pity. He and Soap begin gently guiding you towards the ships cellar.

"It's alright love, The Captain can be a bit cruel but he won't hurt you. Even pirates have their limits… Besides, I assure you we're not nearly as bad as some of the other pirates out there. We'll get you sorted out in the morning."

You have no reason to trust these men, all you've known is that pirates cause pain and destruction everywhere they go, but the only thing you can do right now is trust them. So, you nod timidly, letting them guide without resistance.

Hopefully you can escape at the next docking place.

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fanaticsnail · 11 days ago

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Better than to break tradition

Masterlist here

Word count: 3,700+

Beautiful Doflamingo cowboy art by @skullfacedlady. Absolutely gorgeous, as usual.

Synopsis: Rival ranches, the Donquixote family and your own, find neutral ground after a successful rodeo tournament. Coming to your aid, at the crowning of a cap on your head, you and Doflamingo know far better than to break tradition.

Themes: Doflamingo x f!reader, gendered terms used, cowboy au, bronc rider Doflamingo, rodeo clown Rosinante mentioned, regular sized Doflamingo in a semi-modern au, smut, 18+, MDNI, NSFW, P in V sex, unprotected, semi-public, creampie, plot, feelings, enemies to lovers.

Notes: Fic dedicated to @skullfacedlady, @queenmimi2817, and @feral-artistry for their ideas and thoughts about this cowboy on his horse. I am terrified of horses, but I did my research to get things as right as I could. Please forgive for any inaccuracies, I had a lot of fun writing this and this au is eating at me. First Rosinante drabbles, now this.

Sitting beside your father and his allied cattlemen, the amount of murmuring was so foggy your mind could barely pick up on any meaningful sentence uttered between them. Especially when your gaze was too focussed on avoiding the rubied lenses of the bronc rider readying his mount in the wood and iron cage atop a wild bronc.

Donquixote Doflamingo, ‘the Joker' of the arena, would always seek you out in the crowd when he entertained. All he ever did was show you how much he could reign in and control the beast beneath him with a firm grip and a mischievous grin. No matter how truly untamable the beast would be, bucking wildly to shake him off, they would find all their thrashing was met with absolute control and composure from the blonde man in the saddle.

The blonde-haired man would sit atop him, pelvis to the sky, chin tucked into his chest, and holding on for dear life while taming that beast for the money and reputation it garnered him. He was a rodeo king, and that air of cockiness would follow him everywhere.

While he often received praise falling from his entourage’s lips, all he ever wanted was that soft call of your own. Yet, there you sat, upturning your chin to face away from him while ignoring comments about him from your father’s troup.

The rivalry between you ran deep. Truth be told, neither of you truly knew where the little spat started. It could've been initiated when Doflamingo approached you with that cocky swagger in a bar, likely unknowing who you were and who your father was, offering to buy you a drink in return for a dance and your time while only being met with rejection. It also could've been when your father purchased a large quantity of cattle from the auction house that Doflamingo wanted to keep for himself at his family's ranch.

It could've been the snarky comment from his lips referring to you as a ‘buckle bunny', only good for chasing cowboys and taking cock. That comment resulted in an all out brawl between your family’s ranch workers, and the Donquixote troop. You held your own quite well, impressing a few of the crew with your battle-ready mentality, but it did lose you the place in line to be crowned ‘rodeo queen' - another slight against you made by the hands of Donquixote Doflamingo.

Either way, you refused to give the blonde the time of day. He was a bronc rider, and you were your father’s daughter.

Being from rival homesteads would keep you apart regardless. Your father would never permit you to speak to the likes of him, especially while your arm was laced within his in the stands sat beside his allies. Not after the amount of comments thrown his way about the blonde’s tendencies to take lovers and leave them immediately thereafter. Your father was protective, defensive, and ready to go to war for you - just as you would for him in a heartbeat.

If that war was due to the flashy smile of Donquixote Doflamingo thrown at you, he'd jump down into the stands and wage it there and then. It didn't help that the amount of comments from his allies suggesting a match be made between you and Doflamingo to solidify a new alliance was thrown in the ring more often than not.

At the sound of a gun aimed at the sky, the gates opened for another show flawlessly executed by ‘The Joker' in the ring. The dark horse bucked, kicked, spun in hasty circles while Doflamingo demonstrated his skill by holding on with a single hand while the other aimed at the sky clasping his white stitched, pink cat. Many a person would've been thrown extremely quickly from a stallion such as this, but Doflamingo’s skill and flare was simply too much for the beast.

The longer the display progressed, the more cheers, jeers, and gasps were heard from the ring surrounding the arena. You rolled your eyes, squeezing your arm laced within your father’s while you pouted to depict your level of impression.

At the sound of a loud gasp and your father tensing up to straighten his posture, you immediately turned your attention to the ring. Doflamingo was cast from the horse, and the beast was rearing to charge him where he stood. With quickened haste, Doflamingo’s entourage snapped immediately into action: his coach pulling him aside, and his younger brother, the rodeo clown commonly referred to as 'the heart of Doflamingo’ caused a large, clumsy, flailing distraction to usher the beast over towards him rather than his brother.

With 'the heart' jumping and distracting the horse’s charge, Doflamingo scurried out of the arena and climbed up on the side.

“He’s going to jump back on, isn’t he?” shocked voices called from the side. You unlaced your arm from your father, staring into the arena and rising to your feet. As Rosinante sprinted faster and faster while being chased by the stallion, Doflamingo made contact with his eyes on yours. He smirked up at you, shooting you a wink and placed his pink hat back atop his head while waiting for his brother to pass him.

As soon as Rosinante made it to the stand with the bronc behind him, Doflamingo immediately jumped back onto the horse with a large uproar from the stadium. You rolled your eyes at him, sitting back down beside your father, but now continuing to watch him with little interest cloaked behind your usual stoic demeanor.

“Are you sweet on him now, darlin’?” your father spoke from beside you, prompting you to immediately snap your head over towards him and shoot him an accusatory glare.

“Are you joking, Dad?” you spit in disgust, glancing back down to the display of Doflamingo now sitting atop a tamed beast and urging the beast to trot along the perimeter of the stand, “I would rather chew sand than start courting with him.” As the bronc was calmed and steady under his hands and straddled beneath his hips. You couldn’t help the wandering of your mind at the motion of his hips against the great horse, but you refused to allow the blush to creep higher the longer your eyes lingered on the motions.

After the rodeo event was concluded and Doflamingo was successful in another show, several members of the district ranches approached you for a drink or a dance in the hall. While your father was off elsewhere discussing cattle and stallion purchase, you were a hot commodity. You enjoyed some attention from time to time, but this moment alone with a string of unwanted suitors was grossly hard to manage. None of them seemed to take ‘no’ for an answer, all competing for a moment of your time and vying for an opening to dive between your legs in a bid to grant them an audience with your father.

“This seat taken, sweetheart?” a particularly handsy gentleman asked. His talon-like grip trailed over your shoulders, grazing your skin and causing a physical shudder to rise on pebbled gooseflesh on your skin. You attempted to cast off the suitor, who began groping you and prodding you in a bid to get a rise from your temper or a giggle, you felt a soft warmth drape itself silently over your head.

No words were spoken as you witnessed the man begin to grumble and groan the silent protection placed upon your head. As you gazed upwards at the color, your own eyes rolled at the unwritten rule of the rodeo. Looking up at the white and pale pink hat with a stitched white brim, you scoffed and rode your thumb and four fingers to the tip of the broad suede. You would never dream of removing it, mainly to keep unwanted attention at ease, but also for the fact that the person who placed it on your head was a person you had begrudgingly come to admire this night from afar.

You would never dream of offending the knight found in the rescue of Donquixote Doflamingo. Not immediately after such a successful endeavour with the bronc, anyway.

“So many suitors, sweetheart,” he gently whispered in a gruff purr into your ear, taking a seat beside you at the bar and shooing the already dissipating crowd, “You forced my hand, really.” Turning towards the man beside you, you rolled your eyes before narrowing them towards the taller man beside you.

“Oh, and how did I force your hand?” you scoffed, turning in your barstool towards the tall blonde at your side, “Unless this is you staking your claim on a prize, rider, I see no reason for your cap crowning my head.” Doflamingo leaned forward, his eyes half-lidded beneath his pink showman's glasses. The flicker of danger was momentarily flashing in the bat of his blonde lashes, stealing the breath from your chest as he leaned in further.

“You do make such a pretty prize,” he growled lowly, his lips almost reaching your own in a sultry brush, “And now all I'm picturing is a part of this forsaken building to claim you in properly.” Before you had time to react, his arm was around your waist and hooking beneath your knees.

“You're joking, right?” You scoff at him with a humorless laugh, drawing your hand up to place it on the top of the suede brim, “One: you hate me and I hate you,” you speak firmly, beginning to lift the object from your head, “And, two: you and I both know that this is just superstitious-.”

“-You’ll keep my hat on your head if you know what's good for you, princess,” Doflamingo uttered firmly, peering at you over the brim of his glasses, “You and I know far better than to break tradition. Way I see it, you've got three choices as to what happens next.” He reached up and firmly pressed the hat back down atop your head, securing it in place while gazing dangerously into your eyes.

“We can sneak off to the bathroom where anyone can walk in to hear you screaming my name,” he chuckled, moving his hands from the hat to fall atop your shoulders, “We can fuck right here in front of your daddy and all his business partners in the next room,” Doflamingo whispered against your skin, with his lips almost close enough to taste, “Or we can go to the stables near the bronco you watched me tame earlier, showing the poor stallion how you train your cowboy to behave. Your choice, princess. Either way you choose, you're gonna be riding me somewhere tonight.”

In any other circumstances, you would have fought more against this chain of events. Firstly: your father should've taken you with him in the back rooms to conduct meetings with his allies and business partners, not leave you unattended with the unruly cowboys. Secondly: the sway and buck of Doflamingo’s hips on that horse had your mind wandering somewhere in the gutters each time he gazed at you while on the ride. Thirdly: who were you to break with tradition at a time like this?

Taking one quick swig to drain your drink, you turned your palm up and clapped him on the cheek with a single word falling from your lips.

“Stables.”

“Atta girl,” he shuddered in delight, lacing your arm within his and escorting you away from the bar like the perfect gentleman. He enjoyed gazing at those eyeing him off in envy, truly knowing how great the prize he had claimed truly was. Doflamingo had a lot of casual hook ups at events like this, but this was the first time he had ever claimed a partner with his hat on their head.

As his eyes met with that pink brim, he felt his heart anxiously patter in his chest, relishing on what he was to expect from the encounter to come. Sure, he had a small hang up on your history together, but there was never any hatred from him on his part. He loved to tease, and knowing he could get a rise and see some fire from a respected cattleman’s daughter brought him some joy in his daily life.

Slowly drawing you down the steps towards the stables was an easy task. The air grew thick and tense as your own expectations rose within you at what was to come. Your mind wandered back to the sway and rock of his hips above the bucking bronco, arousal pooling at the complete control as his hips gyrated and moved with every harsh kick.

At the doors to the stables, the Donquixote gentleman opened the door for you and gestured for you to go before him. You rolled your eyes and stepped inside the doors and allowed your gaze to adjust to the darkness lurking within. The scent of horse and hay lingered on in the stables, the barn empty aside from the horses resting after the matches in the arena.

The taller gentleman strolled in behind you, latching the door closed and turning to gaze at each of the empty stalls. As he parted his lips to ask you for your choice of room, he found your lips immediately clashing against his own in a fit of passion. His breath caught in surprise, immediately reciprocating the aggression you placed upon him with every kiss. Tongues and teeth bruised and consumed one another’s kiss as all clothes aside from Doflamingo’s hat upon your head shed your persons.

Pushing him into an empty stalls by using your body alone was an easy feat, considering his eagerness to relinquish control to you. He had no chance to utter a word as you laid him on his back and crawled through the hay to straddle his hips. Already feeling the slick arousal pool through your walls and gather at your entrance, you braced one hand on his stomach and another girt his girth to align with your cunt.

“Woah-? What-? Wait-!” died on his lips as you took him inside you with a single thrust downwards. Sitting comfortably while your walls contracted and adjusted to his size, you clamped your eyes shut while your belly expanded to comfortably sheath him within you.

“A little hasty, aren't you?” he groaned, his hands moving to your hips to hold you steady. “That bent on getting this over with, rider?” You opened your eyes and narrowed them down at him at the taunt of the earlier name you called him.

“Oh, please,” you leaned down with sarcasm dripping from your voice, still holding his cock deep within your core, “Don't act like you're not waiting for this little superstition to be complete so you can go partner up with someone else-.”

“-Don't,” he uttered sharply, moving his hand to caress your cheek and draw you in closer. He moved his unoccupied hand up to remove his glasses to gaze into your eyes without the pink filter. Ruby eyes met yours, sensitive to the light and shrouded beneath blonde eyelashes. “Don't you dare. You don't know how long I've wanted to see you riding me, cowgirl.”

“Cowgirl, now?” Your voice depicted your feigned shock as you tested a soft roll of your hips while your faces were inches apart. “What ever happened to ‘rider’, ‘princess’, or ‘buckle bunny’, huh? And what do you mean by that, Joker?” Doflamingo laughed, thrusting up to test your hold over his crotch, allowing another moan rose as he lost himself to the feeling.

“I don't mean half the shit I say,” he whispered alongside the echo of your name to follow, “And what I do say is to get a reaction from you, princess. Now take your damn time, I'm enjoying this.” He rocked you on his lap, enjoying the way he could easily maneuver your motions over his cock while your face was so close to his own.

You bore down on his lap, enjoying the feeling of his cock inside your cunt and warming it with your body. He hitched his breath as you tensed around him with a flutter of your walls. He allowed his mind to go blank as he revealed in the heat of your pussy claiming his raw cock inside of you.

“A-And, I mean from the first time I saw you, I wanted you,” he confessed, tilting his head up and gazing at you through half-hooded lashes. “Prissy attitude, hard working girl, easy to agitate and tease, and so fucking gorgeous. Now show me how you ride, cowgirl.”

Under the cover of darkness, the scent of hay surrounding your bare bodies, you sat comfortably to the hilt on Doflamingo’s cock. Straddling his hips, you demonstrated the skill of riding by grinding your cunt over his steely shaft. Rolling your hips to his rough bucking had your twin peaks steadily rising, the man beneath you not shying away from being verbal with his pleasure. As he groaned out, you simply panted as you bucked against his pelvis, hips clapping noisily with every, rough, down thrust.

Doflamingo refuted your silence, using everything in his power to expel explicit and pornographic moans from your lips. His hands flew to every piece of your flesh he could find purchase on. Playing with your clit, pinching your breasts, grabbing fistfuls of your ass to impale you on his cock, Doflamingo grew frustrated at your stubbornness to not cry out for him.

“C'mon, cowgirl. Wanna hear you cry for me,” he whimpered, bucking up each time you ground yourself down. “Don’t make me flip you- oh fuck,” he threw his head back as he felt your walls suck him in with every thrust down, “Just like that, baby. Good girl. J-Just need you to-,” he moved his thumb towards your pearl at the top of your pussy and focussed on slowly pressing it with coaxing pressure as you rode him once more. You let out a soft gasp at first, sucking in your breath through your teeth, before a needy mewl spilt from your lips that Doflamingo rewarded with harder contact to the top of your clit.

The Donquixote cowboy enjoyed every sound he coaxed from you from that point. Hearing your voice only heightened his desire to watch your body bounce atop him like the rider you had always been. Doflamingo was the wild stallion you controlled, his moans fleeing his lips like mewling and braying of the beasts he rode.

“That's it. Ride my cock all loud like that,” he encouraged, bucking wildly up into you. Planting his feet in the hay, the wet squelching of hips clapping together upped in frequency and rapidity, “Fuck, you're more wild than anything I've tamed. Fucking use me, girl.” Your abdomen tightened, the pinnacle of your rapid climax approaching like a rapid cantor to the finish line. With one extremely needy whine, Doflamingo moved his hands to grope your ass, planting you against him while he lost himself further in the feeling.

“F-Fuck-! I'm c-cumming. Y-You better be cumming with me, baby, ah-...” he whined up into you, feeling you match his pace and ride him through it to harmonize with your own body meeting your high, “Atta girl. Keep going. K-Keep taking me. Fuck yes, take it.”

Your hands groped at his shoulders, anchoring your body to his as you felt the floodgates shatter of your high. White flashed behind your vision as you screamed out his name, pleasure blooming in your chest with the ignition of lightning in your eyes. You released his left shoulder beneath your hand to hold his hat atop your head: ensuring it was planted firmly on your head while you cried out for his name.

Pussy gushing over his shaft in rhythmic contractions, you milked his cock of his own messy release as he painted your walls further in the viscous splashback of his cum. Pearlescent spurts fled from his body into yours at the roar of your name, branding your souls together as he flooded you with his seed. Both heaving and panting, you slumped onto his chest and shrouded both of your faces beneath the broad brim of his hat. He chuckled up into you, gently slapping your ass while kissing your cheek. His smile continued to hold as he gazed possessively up into you.

“You rode this cowboy well, sweetheart,” he praised you, bobbing his head up to flick at his cap on your head, “And you're gonna do it again, aren't you? You're still wearing my hat, means you're mine… right?” Slowly rising to gaze down at him, you notice the uncertainty behind his eyes. He wanted you to want it, yearned for you to want him again in any capacity. He needed you to need him again. Who were you to be to refuse him?

“It's still on my head, isn't it?” you quirk back at him, gently leaning down and brushing your nose with his, “Means I'm yours until I take it off.” He chuckled as he scrunched up his nose playfully at you.

“I'm gonna glue that fuckin' thing to your hair, princess,” he chuckled in jest, flicking the cap crowning you, “You take me so well, I don't know how I could ever want anything else.” His hand moved to cup your cheek, moving to press the tip of his nose against yours in a soft brush innocently of his flesh against yours.

The sounds of braying, snorting and whinnying beside you caused the two of you to resolve into a fit of giggles, laughing like the youth in the arena up to mischief in an empty stand. He rolled you gently off him, ensuring the hat remained on your head while making the hay comfortable to hold you atop of. He began whispering sweet nothings, grazing your skin in featherlight kisses where you left a gap open in conversation. Doflamingo was obsessed with you from the first time he saw you, and now that he had his hat crowning your head, that cowboy would never let you go

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e

#one piece #x reader #Donquixote Doflamingo #Doflamingo #Doflamingo x reader #Doflamingo smut #cowboy au #one piece smut #x f!reader #skullfaced snail

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obsessivevoidkitten · 1 year ago

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Your Deathclaw Boyfriend (Male Reader Version)

Male Yandere Deathclaw x Male Reader (CW: Noncon, Inhuman genitals, double penetration, ass eaten like it’s groceries, general yandere behavior) Word Count: 920 (Hope you guys enjoy this, I wrote and edited hastily so I hope you can forgive any errors.)

It had been an extremely stupid idea, exploring the wasteland solo with no group. But you had never been one for traveling with other people, you preferred scavenging alone, and it had a few benefits. No betrayals from companions looking for the right moment to stab you in the back and you maintained the ability to move stealthily. You could always detect a loud group of unruly bandits, they weren’t exactly subtle. But finding a scavenging group to scour the wastes with or maybe even settling down completely in a relatively safe settlement would have prevented the fate that ultimately befell you. You had been exploring a small cave that looked like it may have some loot, old long dead people stashed all kinds of nice stuff in places like this. You should have known something was wrong immediately by the odd smell that seemed to permeate the air wafting out of the entrance, but it could have been anything so you continued cautiously. That was your first mistake. Your second mistake was seeing what was some kind of nest with large, sparkling gems at the base forming a large circle along with smoothed stones and bit of shining metal, all with hay, feathers, and clothes at the top. It was obviously bedding, but whatever it was that slept here wasn’t present then. So you decided to nab a couple of the large gemstones before making a hasty exit. Unknown to you the maker of the nest had seen you enter his home and was silently stalking you as you approached his bedding. And he was thrilled that his scent marking had led you into his home and was even more excited when he saw you touch the stones he had collected to attract a mate, it was a clearly an indication that you were receptive to being with him. You had gotten closer and kneeled down in front of the nest and placed a hand on one of the gems, ready to snatch it up, but suddenly you were jerked backwards and lifted up several feet into the air. You were being held by an alpha deathclaw with black and green glowing skin. As you thrashed wildly trying to escape you were surprised to hear him speak. “Ah, tiny mate-thing, Grogth is so happy you were attracted to my home~ Didn’t expect a human to be interested but am so so excited!” His voice was deep and beast-like but he spoke fluently. “No! I was just… exploring!” You didn’t want to admit to having been about to steal his gems. “Awe, you’re so shy! That’s okay, Grogth knows how to be gentle.” If you could have reached your weapon you would have, but he quickly tore through your clothing and tossed away all your supplies before placing you carefully in his nest on your back. He crouched down and brought you to the edge of the bedding and gently spread your legs, ignoring your attempts to kick him away and attributing all of your resistance to first time jitters, fully convinced that this was what you wanted. Why else would you have been at his nest if you didn’t want to be mated? He lapped eagerly at your cock and balls, at first he was surprised to see them between your legs, thinking only a female would want to be his mate and not being able to tell between a clothed human male or a clothed human female, but he was not the least bit deterred. After all, he was a large and powerful mate and he had an awesome nest, he could never blame you for wanting to be his cute partner. Humans were so tiny and you obviously needed his protection. Maybe that was why you were so shy, you were worried Grogth would reject you if he knew you were male. He couldn’t let his precious new mate think that! So he made sure to give your delicate human cock lots of love, slowly licking up your shaft, wrapping his tongue around it and stroking it with his tongue until it was nice and hard. Then he dove his mouth between your cheeks and slid his strong tongue into your entrance, making sure to apply plenty of spit to make you good and lubed up. You twitched and writhed as his tongue massaged your prostate. And once he deemed you nice and well lubed your legs were raised and both his cocks were thrusting in and out of your tight hole. True to his word he was as slow and as gentle a lover as he could possibly be, nuzzling into your neck and telling you how you were such a good boy for him and so very perfect at taking his cocks as he bred you. Despite his tenderness, with the sheer size of both of his cocks penetrating you deeply pain was unavoidable. Though it was not unbearable and after a while as more and more of his precum lubricated your ass it became very pleasurable. It did not take too long for you both to cum hard, after which he held you lovingly as you panted and tried to recover. There was no way you would ever escape from him, your weapons were not strong enough and you didn’t have it in you to hurt Grogth anyway when he wasn’t purposefully malicious, and if you ran away he would track you down. This was your life now, and you might as well accept it.

#yandere terato #yandere teratophilia #yandere monster #male yandere #male monster yandere #male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere fallout #yandere fanfiction #yandere fallout fanfiction #yandere deathclaw #male deathclaw x male reader #My OCs #My OC Grogth

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

Text

Chemical Reactions (P. 2)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy as J Robert Oppenheimer x Student Reader

Warning: Smut in later parts, Age-Gap, Infidelity

Words: 1,867

Note: The fic is spoiler free and fantasy.

Later that day…

In the lavatory, you inspected your appearance for a moment. You were wearing an embroidered peasant blouse paired with a plain cardigan, a dark coloured skirt and a set of comfortable shoes. Your hair was pulled back in a random clip which, for the meeting with Dr Oppenheimer, you decided to remove. You looked much better with your hair being open and, just as you looked at yourself again, you felt a pang of anxiety, wondering what Dr Oppenheimer was truly thinking of you.

Did he think that you were smart and worthy his attention or did he simply took pity in you because you were a woman?

You then scrunched your eyebrows after a second of thought and adjusted your bag on your shoulder to prepare to face the beast.

For some reason, this man intimidated you and that also, somewhat, aroused you which was a combination of feelings that you never felt before.

Thus, almost hesitantly, you arrived at the lecture room at around 5 o’clock, which was almost thirty minutes after your last class for the day had finished and, when you walked into the somewhat dingy room, you saw him, standing there, looking at am array of calculations.

"You are late” Dr Oppenheimer then remarked without even looking at you at first before, finally, turning around.

"You didn't actually give me a time..." you began to say as you walked towards him and watched him furrow his eyebrows.

“No, I suppose I didn’t” Dr Oppenheimer acknowledged before turning the chalkboard over so that you could not see his writing and calculations at all.

“Have you figured the problem with your calculation yet?” you asked almost bluntly as, awkwardly, you stood in front of him. Your lab coat was draped over your left forearm while your right hand held your bag's strap to your shoulder.

You kept your eyes forward, directly in line with where his neck met his chest before looking up into his deep blue eyes which, by this point, were full of questions.

“Who says that there is a problem with my calculations?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked almost out of the blue and a short moment passed before he took your coat and bag from your hands, laying them on the nearest table.

“I think that you took a wrong turn somewhere and…” you began to stammer just before released the nervous breath which you did not realise you were holding until he began to speak again.

“Sit, please” he gestured and, just after you complied with his request and sat down in front of his large wooden desk, you could feel Dr Oppenheimer’s presence next to you.

“Do you have a pen and some paper?” you asked and, of course, he did.

“Of course” Dr Oppenheimer said as he placed two white pieces of paper and a freshly sharpened pencil in front of you.

“Now, please show me your calculations” he then said while he stepped back but, even though he decided to give him some space, you could see him out of the corner of your eye, watching you as you worked.

You wrote down formula after formula, directly from your head and whilst this was nothing but theory, you imagined every single reaction in the back of your mind.

You were fast and Dr Oppenheimer’s mouth hung open as he watched you work, focusing intently to be sure that it all made sense until, suddenly, your mind went blank. The proximity was making you hot and you felt yourself burning up under your blouse.

“That’s it?” Dr Oppenheimer thus asked and you shook your head.

“I just lost my train of thought, again…” you said, sounding like an idiot, causing the professor to chuckle.

“Am I making you nervous?” he then asked and, as if you had not already embarrassed yourself enough, you nodded somewhat dumbfounded.

“Right. My apologies. I will just take a seat next to you” he then said before pulling another chair to the table and sitting down right next to you which did not make this situation any better whatsoever.

Of course, he was no longer towering over you, but he was now much closer to you than he was before, acting and behaving almost like an equal.

“Go on then” he said, wanting to resume your work while the heat of his body began to burn you. You squirmed uncomfortably on your stool until you had to put the pen down to take off your cardigan which, by this point, was still partially covering your blouse.

"What is it?” Dr Oppenheimer then asked somewhat concerned but you shook it off.

"Nothing, I am just hot" you said plainly before taking in a deep breath and resuming your calculations which is also when Dr Oppenheimer became more interested in again and decided that he needed a better view.

You were now getting to the point of where you assumed he made a mistake and he was intrigued by the route you were taking in your formula.

“Explain it to me” he demanded, wanting to know why you are calculating the chemical reaction in the way you were and you had no problem telling him, in scientific terms, as to how you arrived at your conclusions.

As such, you talked and talked while squirming around until, eventually, you got back into position and wrote down another formula, which was one Dr Oppenheimer had not considered before and, just as you placed pen on paper again, you felt something touch your neck. Not soft enough to be hair brushing your neck, but not enough pressure to feel entirely deliberate.

“You aren’t even looking?” you then said as you otherwise stayed completely still when felt Dr Oppenheimer adjust your twisted necklace.

“Because you did it wrong” he responded as he picked up the chain and turned the jewellery until the clasp is on the back, where he dropped it back onto the nape of your neck. If you did not know better, you would have thought you felt his fingertips linger a little longer on your skin than they should have lingered there, but you could not be too sure.

“I did? How?” you asked while thinking about the science as well as how his fingertips felt on you, raising goosebumps on your bare skin. Him moving your necklace would have been harmless and platonic if it was not for that hesitation at the end of the action. The half a second too long that his hand remained on you, brushing lightly at the skin on the side of your neck.

“Allow me” the professor then said before taring up one of your pages and giving a plain piece of paper to write on.

He then took the pen from your hand and wrote down what you had written until you took this wrong turn in your calculations, which is where he halted and prompted you to think.

“Think about implosion, not explosion” he said and, almost immediately, the penny dropped and you gently grabbed the end of the pencil he was holding while making sure to let one finger feather a touch onto one of his.

"May I?" you say quietly, feeling his eyes on the side of your face as you looked at the pencil. The whole exchange only lasted a couple of seconds before he released the utensil and you leaned down over the paper while letting your shoulder brush his.

"Is that right now?" you then asked innocently after finishing the formula, turning to look at him as you gauged his reaction. This was the first time you had really looked at him since he first started explaining where you went wrong, and you were not sure what you expected, but it was not this.

Dr Oppenheimer only had his left hand resting on the table now, his chest turned towards you as he searched your face and smiled. You smiled back and held his gaze, trying to think of something to break the moment while keeping the upper hand.

“I am impressed but…” he then began to say and, instead of saying anything to him in response, you remembered the pencil you were holding and quickly moved to hold it between you and him. Without looking at it, he reached forward and covered your hand with his, those blue eyes on the verge of pouring into you. He then slid the pencil out of your hand and leaned down one more time, changing one of your subtraction signs to an addition. In your mind, you honed in on the mistake, cursing his distraction for causing you to make a mistake in front of him.

"Now, you're perfect" Dr Oppenheimer then said nonchalantly as he stood back up.

“Hmm” you stammered while trying not to react to his comment, or the fact that he used your own tactics against you.

Considering the moment gone, you picked up the paper and retreated in order to quickly get out of there as you could not help but think that you made things almost awkward now. Not only did you have more questions now than you did previously, you feared you may have moved you both in a direction that bordered on inappropriateness.

Obviously, you were flirting with him and he was a married man in respect of whom you got no read on when it came to his intentions towards you, because you were so consumed by the moment. You were consumed to his body's reaction to yours, his eyes, his parting comment, saying that “now you’re perfect”…

You then recalled the moments when you feared that your cover was blown, that he caught on to what you were doing, namely flirting with him. Part of you hoped that he thought he was flattering himself, similar to how you have been feeling, but something about this man told you he scarcely denied his ego satisfaction.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #oppenheimer x reader #j robert oppenheimer #Oppenheimer #j robert oppenheimer x reader #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x y/n

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craske · 6 months ago

Note

I AM VERY CURIOUS ON WHAT THE HELL IS SHADOW MILK'S BEHAVIOUR AND INTERACTION WITH THE ANCIENTS AFTER GETTING HIS SOUL JAM STOLEN

DOES HE TRIES TO LIKE, GET IT BACK OR SOMETHING?

ALSO LOVE SO MUCH HOW YOU DRAW HIMM

HI THANK YOU SM IM HAPPY YOU LIKE IT 🥺

yapfest incoming

the interactions are very uh. complicated. as you can probably imagine. considering thats the fucking Beast that not only was tormenting Pure Vanilla and White Lily but also killed Elder Fairy and devastated the Faerie kingdom. so things are a little, itty bitty slightly tense between him and literally everyone

if they could theyd leave him there for dead but thatd be really irresponsible so what else was there to do than to apprehend the still big (literally) threat. for quite a while tho he is just trying to adjust to not being this all powerful force (meaning hes being a miserable wet thing with a very bad migraine) (dont worry it doesnt stop him from brewing plots)

bc a very large portion of his powers is gone, he isnt really that dangerous anymore (but also he isnt neutralized). and since all of this is a speculation because we currently have No Idea what will happen in the future of the Beast Yeast arc, i like to believe the beast yeast expeditions retreated back to Crispia and Shadow Milk is being held as a prisoner. under constant supervision of couse, cant have the clown start doing his clownery again

since im a biiig sucker for antagonists turned begrudging ally (or an actual ally as time goes on), he turns out to be a good source of intel, plus provides some surprisingly important insight. yeah they all hate eachother and hold massive grudges (esp in case of the two doomed lovebirds) but they have a common enemy. and shadow milk wants his powers back.

but.... wouldnt it be funny if the lack of overwhelming almost limitless power had an effect on his (and by that extent, other beasts) mind? if that force didnt push and pull and mold and break down and put it back together? and maybe something started to change, or in fact revert?

well who knows! imagine that happening lol

#ask #moonfantasyworld #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #white lily cookie #my art #fanart #digital art #I HAVE A LOT OF IDEAS ABOUT THIS SCENARIO #SO THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS ASK #dejammed au

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stormhearty · 9 months ago

Text

Pairings: Eris x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Triggers: pining, reader being shot by arrows, mentions of bloodshed and killing

Summary: Eris watched as your body lay still in the large bed, healing from the poisonous arrows that had penetrated your body. The Autumn Heir is reminded that, no matter how much he loves you, you will always be in danger if you stay around him. Now he has to make a choice… whether to keep you in his arms and protect you with his fire or to unlock the cage and let you go free.

Note: Based on this request! Thank you @strangelygreat for your request! I love this so much. I realized that I never really listened to this song in its entirety. The Broadway version, “If I Can’t Love Her” has a similar feel — it has the same longing and distress. But I listened to <Evermore> and of course, I am in love. <Evermore>, Josh Groban’s version more specifically, has such a beautiful pining feeling; I listened to it while brainstorming and writing this song. This is also based on a scene from the manhwa “Secret Lady”, one which echoes this feeling of pining with angst. I loved this scene in this manhwa, and I highly suggest reading it! This will mostly be under Eris’ POV since the song is from the Beast’s POV as well.

I would suggest listening to the song either before reading this story or during, and please do tell me if I could portray the song correctly!! Or was able to portray a similar feeling to it.

Closing the door behind him with a silent click, Eris stepped into the dimly lit room, his steps leading to a familiar bed, one that held a familiar body underneath its sheets. A hand reached out to grab the back of a chair, dragging it across wooden floors, the echo of scraping wood resonating throughout the quiet room. Placing the chair next to the bed, he gracefully sat down, hands gripping the arms of the chair as amber hues stared at the rise and fall of your back.

The room had grown silent after that, the pitter-patter of rainfall against the large windows and your even breathing occupied the room. It rarely rained in Autumn Court, but lately, Eris felt like the weather matched his mood — bleak, dull, and sober. His gaze moved from your peaceful features to the bandages on your back, the blackened blood that seeped through the white cloth.

It had been a month.

A month since the day you had stepped in front of those poisonous arrows, ones covered with ash — ones that were marked towards him — and almost had your life taken away in front of his very eyes.

He watched as your eyes looked up at him, a smile tugging at your lips, the words that slipped from your lips haunting him to this day: “You're okay…”

Eris felt himself stiffen in the chair, hearing the echo of your words through his body. He felt the wood creak underneath his fingertips, his claws splinting the wood underneath them.

He could still see it — how your body slumped against his, that arrow penetrated your skin; how the blood seeped from that wound through your ball gown. He could still smell it — that blood that tricked from the edge of your mouth and onto his pristine clothes. He could still feel it — how your body slowly started to become cold in his warm hands, how your pulse slowed underneath his palm.

The scene was still vivid in his mind — a constant reminder of the dangers that lurked in Autumn Court; on the dangers that followed him. On how every single moment that you lay in this bed, barely hanging into the thread of life — was another reminder to the Autumn Heir that he had started to become selfish — especially when it came to you.

For the longest time, he had restrained himself, his feelings, his obsession when it came to you. You were a fleeting moment — he constantly told himself — one that was not meant to be caged, especially not by him. Not in the political battlefield such as Autumn Court. Not where his brothers waited in the shadows to strike him down every waking second. Not where his father was looking for any weakness to use against him as punishment.

You weren't meant to stay by him, he had concluded.

Eris knew that — from the moment he laid eyes on you, all those years ago.

How you were a breath of fresh air in his suffocating world. You were his haven… an escape from the constant pressures of his Court. He wouldn’t have minded if the world had faded away — all that mattered was you. And Eris knew, oh how he knew, and that very thought was intoxicating and dangerous. All he had wanted to do was to keep you within arm-length, to be able to whisk you away when need be.

But he couldn’t.

“(Y/N)…” Eris murmured your name in the darkness, like a lover whispering sweet nothings.

“I can tell you now…”

Amber hues stared at your sleeping form, unaware of the truth that he was about to spill. Eris knew that the walls listened, his own home against him. But he needed to get it off his chest, to let the world know.

“You were my Goddess for the longest time…”

He shifted slightly to pull pieces of porcelain from his pocket — a broken miniature statue, one that Eris had held onto for all these years. He glanced at the pieces before shifting his hand, to allow them to fall to the wooden floor, the sound barely reaching his ears.

“You were something that I could admire from far away, keeping you at arms distance. Something that I could look at and never touch, never hold. I wasn’t afraid to think of you back then… to wish and yearn for you… To miss you. I never wanted to know who you were, never wanted to know more about you. I was content with just looking.

“But, when I saw you that day… During my coming-of-age ceremony, all those centuries ago, could you imagine — - no… you could never understand how I felt that day.”

You were radiant. A bright light in his dim world. Even in a crowded room, he could spot you from a mile away. You radiated warmth, kindness… purity. Something absent in his world of hatred and betrayal.

A shaky sigh escaped his lips, a hand coming up to run through his copper locks before running down his face, pressing against his eyes to prevent the burn of tears.

“It was the first time in my entire life… I wanted nothing more to do than run.

“You were gorgeous. And for the life of me, I couldn’t look at you without having my heart beat frantically in my chest. I felt like my heart would jump out, for the world to see how much you had affected me.

“Was this love? Was this devotion? Did this shift of emotion mean that I could never be able to seek you out again? That I could never be able to think freely of you? I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to.

“I thought that I would be able to manipulate myself into not loving you. How could I? I didn’t know you… all I had loved was what I could see on the outside. I thought I could manipulate myself into thinking to not fall in love with someone I did not know.

“I had thought it would be easy. I rarely saw you, except on passing occasions… Superficial words of greetings in loud halls. It was fine, for centuries, for me to just silently yearn for you. To allow myself not to hold you tight…”

A broken laugh paused his monologue, his hand dropping back onto the arms of the chair as he looked at you. He shifted out of the chair and moved to sit at the edge of the bed close to your form. Eris reached over, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin underneath his hand — to ensure you were still there… alive. He hesitated, his hand hovering over your back, only to move to gently grasp a piece of your hair. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on that one lock of hair.

“But that night, all those months ago, when you sought me out in the forest, knocking frantically on that small cabin door. You had sacrificed your safety to forewarn me of the assassination attempt by my brother. I knew I had to push you away, I had to keep you hidden from the prying eyes of my father and brothers. For they would know, if I had been a moment too late, pulling you in and hiding you within that closet, they would have known how much you had affected me.

“I knew that I should have let you go that night. I shouldn’t have held your hand and pulled you into that cabin. I should have let you run away from this cage I call my home.

“But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t let you go, not when you were the one who sought me out. For the first time in centuries, you were the one who looked for me.”

Fingers dropped that lock of hair, as he settled his elbows onto his knees, hands, once again, pressing against his face as the tears finally broke… cascading down his cheeks in a never-ending river. He cried in silence, afraid that any sob or cry of grief would wake you up from your slumber.

You were finally within arms grasp.

Eris could reach out and hold you in his arms, to press his lips against yours. To love you as he had wanted.

“I couldn’t lie to myself anymore, (Y/N)… I wanted more. I wanted nothing more than to hold you in my arms, kiss you in the dead of night, make you moan my name as we made love… I wanted to drink up everything that you had given me. I wanted your eyes to shine only for me.

“And I regretted it so much.”

Eris felt every regret seep into his body — he regretted letting you into his life, into his world of fire.

“You mustn’t let her lay on her back—-” the priestess hummed out, as the glow from her hands faded away, fixing the bandage to cover the wound.

Eris watched, dull amber eyes staring at your face for any indications of pain. He held you in his arms, your head resting against his shoulder as the priestess healed the wound on your back.

“—-For it may fester with the moisture that can build up. You must lay her on her stomach, to let the wound breathe…” The gentle hands of the priestess ran over the wound, and Eris felt you shift in his arms, your face scrunching in pain. He felt himself growl at the priestess, amber eyes lighting in anger.

The priestess bowed in apology, “—- Her feeling pain is better than feeling nothing, my Lord.” With one last bow, the priestess swept away, passing the Lady of Autumn as the doors closed.

Eris didn’t pay attention to his mother, not when you were shivering in his arms. He sighed softly, bringing you closer to his warmth, letting the fire that breathed under his skin warm you. Fingers ran through your tangled hair, trying to undo the knots that came upon you while you were asleep.

“Why did you let (Y/N) into the Forest House?” Lady of Autumn asked her son, finally breaking up the silence of that room.

It had been a day after the incident — a day after you had taken the arrow that should have taken his life. A day since the priestess worked their magic to try to save you from the brink of death.

Eris had been nothing but a statue, forgoing his duties as the Heir of Autumn Court to just sit in that very room, watching you breathe — as if afraid that if he turned away from your body, you would disappear.

He glanced up at his mother for a moment before he leaned down to bury his head into the crook of your shoulder, the feeling and sound of your breathing calming him, reassuring him that you were still alive in his arms.

“Why did you have to —-”

“Mother…” he breathed out, interrupting her question.

Lady Autumn raised a brow, lips pressing as she allowed her son to explain.

“Imagine there is someone you wanted to protect, would do anything to protect. And you realize… that the person you wanted nothing more to protect was in danger because of you. What would you do?”

Eris shifted so he could lay you back on the bed, gently laying you down on your stomach as the priestess told him to do. He sat at the edge of the bed, tugging the bedsheet to cover your lower half, allowing your back to breathe in the cooling air.

“I would do whatever in my power… to ensure their safety…” she answered him.

Eris ran his hand down your back gently once more before he stood up, his feet dragging him over to the window as amber hues stared out into his Court.

“And that’s what I did, Mother… That night, after I had killed Tharetiur, his blood splattered on the wood of that cabin. After (Y/N) had fallen asleep in my bed, I stepped out into the night, wondering what I could do to ensure she was safe. I couldn’t let her go home, not after running for god knows how long to warn me of Tharetiur’s assassination attempt.

“… I had turned to Drucand —-” Eris’s right hand, one of the few people in Autumn Court he could trust with his life, “—-I asked him, ‘Where is the safest place in all of Prythian?’ I watched as Drucan stared at me for a moment, as if I asked a stupid question, before reaching for the holster of his sword…”

Eris remembered how Drucand pulled that holster from his waist and proceeded to hand him his sword.

“’ Heir of Autumn Court, the first son of Beron and Lady Autumn. The Heir whose blood runs with flames. The safest place… would be in your arms, with your fire and sword in hand.’”

A laugh broke out of Eris, his head shaking at the thought.

“I wanted to send her off, wanted to keep the distance between myself and her… But, I couldn’t. And I started to selfishly think that keeping her by my side, with that sword in my hand, might be the most reasonable solution to ensure her safety. I thought… that no danger would touch a hair on her head, not when I would protect her as my hounds do for me…

“But I failed… I failed, Mother…”

Eris turned around and faced his mother, tears finally breaking through his composure. His voice shook at every confession and every truth he thought knew.

“…It seemed that the Gods and the Mother above had led me to her. Fated us to be together… and yet ripped us apart the moment they thought we had gotten too close. That I had gotten too close to her. It seemed that they used her… her kindness, her warmth, her love… as punishment for me and my discretions…”

Eris believed with his whole being that you were his eternal punishment — for forgetting his promise to forget you, to punish him for yearning for you. Your kiss with death… was his punishment for falling in love with you.

The Heir watched as his mother let out a light sob before rushing towards him, holding him in her arms as he broke — as he finally broke. Eris sobbed, his body collapsing onto the ground in the arms of his mother, his hands wrapping around her as he grasped her shoulders, his body shuddering and breaking.

All because he had failed to protect you.

Amber eyes focused on your body once more, as he slipped out of the memory, the tears drying on his cheeks, determination in the depths of his eyes.

“(Y/N)… I had brought you into my life out of a momentary desire. A want, a selfish want, rather than a need. You were no longer the Goddess that I could bask in your light and warmth. You became a person — a living, breathing person — someone who cried and smiled… someone who showed your heart on your sleeve despite living in a Court that could use that against you.

“You showed me that you were like me, alive. I got to know you, your little habits — how you would bite your nails in concentration, how you would fiddle with the ends of your hair when you were nervous. You were an open book — one that I read so easily and greedily.”

How could he resist falling in love with you?

He couldn’t.

Not when you had accepted his flaws, accepted the darkest side of him — and in the end never turned your back on him. You had stuck next to him, in the horrors of his own Court, sticking out your neck for him every second.

How could he not fall in love with you and declare to let you leave?

How could he just have let you go like that? Not when you weaved your soul into his heart and stole it for yourself.

He couldn’t live without your hand in his, your body next to his own in the dead of the night. He couldn’t live without you.

But yet, there he was, he had been so close to losing you. To the terrors of his brother.

He didn’t regret it.

He didn’t regret the bloodshed that night after Drucand had taken your body from his arms.

All he saw was red, and he had no hesitance in taking Drucand’s sword, using his powers to wrap it in flames, and slaughtering his brothers in front of his father and mother.

There had been no ounce of regret in his blood at the sight of their bodies on those marble floors, blood pooling around them. He stared at his father with a glare, before handing Drucand the blood-covered sword back and taking your wounded body into his arms and striding out.

Eris would kill for you, again and again, if he had to. He would cover himself in blood… a sword in his hands, all for you. He would burn Prythian in flames… all so that he would never lose you again.

It was such a dangerous thought.

You were a dangerous addiction to him.

“(Y/N)… What if…”

There was only one way for him to fulfill his promise — his promise to the Gods, to the Mother.

He leaned over your body, his hand gently running down your leg, over your calf, and grasping your foot.

“What if I would carve my heart out, severing my feelings for you… Would that be enough to protect you and keep you alive from the dangers of my life?”

Eris pressed a kiss against the top of your foot, a notion of devotion from the Heir of Autumn Court.

“If that would be the case… then I would gladly take my sword, and hand you my bleeding heart. To show my eternal devotion and my love for you…”

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #eris x reader #eris angst #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar fandom #eris vanserra x reader #( .inbox request: notions of devotion )#( .inbox request )

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gxbbyhoneybadger · 2 years ago

Note

Can you please do a part two of mission .???!!!

Oh my! Well, of course anonymous user. Never though there'd be a sequel but oh well! Part 2 is right here now!

Mission XXXIV-XXXV

Part 2

Pairing: !Yautja!Scar x !F!Shy!Reader

Summary: Y/n wakes up in a different place, her home no longer anywhere and instead placed within a strange cell with different Warriors watching her. Soon she's delivered to kneel in front of an Elder—next thing she knew, she was mated with Scar. Becoming first Yautja mated couple ever in their history, but for Y/n to permanently be respected as one of them, she must first become a Warrior.

Warnings: Adult language, threats, assault, scarification, death, arguments, anxiety, fluff, teasing, sexual tension, eventual smut, gentle to rough smut, clawing, biting, comfort.

A/n: The Roman numerals in the title translate to 34-35. So it means Mission 34-35 . . . Or Mission-69 heheh. I also did some studying on their language, (keyword: some.)

Fun Fact (Maybe): I saw a comic page and read that the Yautja can "speak" through their own sign language: Hand-signal of the Hunt. Or Silent Hand.

Part 1

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut.

~Y/n pov~

Was my bed always this cold? I fell asleep in his arms, and I finally woke up alone in a dark place. I gasped as I backed up and hit my head on the cold wall, I shivered as I tried to figure out my surroundings. I was naked, the only thing I had was my old blanket, I hugged it as I stood up on my feet.

My thighs ached from—I shuddered remembering that I lost my virginity to whatever creature he was. I walked to the cell bars and tried to see if there was anyone here, "H-Hello?" I said, "Hello! I-Is anyone there! Can you please tell me where I am!?"

I could hear muffled beeping noises from down the halls, everything was unusual and unfamiliar for me. "Please! Anyone-! Gah!" I yelped—two large beasts walked in front of me. I stepped back and watched them, they wore similar masks with different designs. Around seven feet tall, both musclar beasts.

". . . W-Where am I?" I whispered, they clicked and growled lowly to each other. I could hear some soft of soft engine humming around us, where was I? "Please! Tell me where I am!" I begged.

They both looked to the left as another creature like them clicked out and order or some sort of command, one of them unlocked the cell before the second walked in towards me. "W-Who are you-? Hey! Let me go!" I yelped—he pulled me out by my arm and pushed me to walk forwards. I'd instantly get killed if I tried to fight any of them, I just obeyed and went along with their orders.

~3rd pov~

The Yautjas led Y/n deeper into their ship when it just landed on their planet, Yautja Prime, she was given a collar and had her wrists chained before she was brought out. She was so lost in the new world, being pulled along like a dog and shown off as an accessory to the other fellow Yautjas who lived there. Each one stared at her with confusion and judgement, thinking of her as a weak opponent to kill.

The two dragged her to a large empire, the large stairs led into a hall which opened up into a room where a Clan Leader sat. He had multiple spikes and grown dreadlocks that almost touched his thighs, his claws tapping on his throne chair as Y/n was forced to her knees in front of him.

She was terrified and lost, she held onto her blanket as she watched Scar, wearing his silver mask, approach the Elder. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but it sounded close to a argument, or Scar trying to convince the Elder to allow something. Y/n glanced behind her and saw the other Yautjas, all glancing at the Elder and Scar before down at her.

She was shaking like a leaf while she knelt there defenseless, Scar stepped aside as the Elder snarled while standing up. He raised his left hand and signaled one of the Yautjas to bring him an item; she jumped when she heard the familiar screeching of a Xenomorph before one of them killed it. The seven foot creature handed the Elder a severed finger of the Xenomorph and approached Y/n—he removed her chains as his eyes examined her frail form.

She gasped when his rough hand held her shoulder, her eyes found Scar's as the Elder clenched her shoulder for her attention. "W-What are you doing?" She asked him. "You are Blooded." The Elder said to her, his tone deeper than Scar's was. She let her eyes close when he brought the acidic finger to her cheek, scarring her skin permanently with a symbol of her Xenomorph kill.

Scar was informing the Elder of her kill, and how she managed to use one of their weapons against their enemy species, how she proved to be an ally and a warrior. She clenched her jaw in pain from the burning feeling, he then stepped back and looked at the Warriors. Y/n gulped as she reached up to feel the permanent mark on her cheek before everyone roared in unison—she covered her ears again. After they were done the Elder Yautja approached Scar and held his shoulder, clicking and snarling as they communicated in their language.

Scar growled but the Elder snarled back, before looking at her. "W-Why am I here? What's going to happen to me!" She whimpered out with fear rattling her nerves. A Yautja approached the Elder, his dreadlocks were short and he looked slightly smaller than Scar did—in his hands he carried some sort of pelt from one of the creatures that probably lived on this planet with them, something was packaged within it.

The Elder Yautja pointed at her and the Yautja walked to her before dropping it at her knees, "W-What is this?" She asked, she heard the muffled snarling and clicks coming from the other Yautjas behind her. Her hands trembled as she reached for the package, untying the skin like thread and unfolding it.

Seeing a few pieces of rather revealing clothing, if you can even call it clothing. "I-I don't think this is appropriate-?", "Dress yourself." The Elder growled out to her. She lifted the strange light green colored top that would just barely even cover her breasts. Her sides would be bare and the bottom would reveal her legs, she sighed from the outfit choice but stood up with the pieces before glancing at Scar. "Do I. . . dress up here?"

The Elder looked away and communicated with Scar instead, Y/n with no other choice, started to slip on and try the outfit, of course still having the blanket over herself. The bottom was similar to a thong beneath the hanging pieces of cloth attached to it, she pulled it up and let the cloth hang—covering just her front and rear, reaching to her knees while her thighs and waist were exposed. She grabbed the top next, seeing that it'll only cover her breasts and nothing else, she'll be showing sideboob, but hopefully the front will be hidden.

She tied a knot with the strings behind her neck and let it remain covering her chest just barely. She rechecked to see if she was fully covered before looking at Scar and the Elder who were now looking at her—she sighed and dropped the blanket. Showing her new two-piece outfit that she'll most likely have to keep on for however long she's kept here. She hugged her arms when the Elder signaled for them to leave, Scar walked to her and escorted her out of the temple.

"Why am I here? What is this place?" She questioned Scar, now covering her stomach as she passed dozens of more Yautjas. Everyone of them were males, adults or in their teen years. Some wore armor, while some didn't. The weather was warm and sunny, it didn't feel cold at all. "Where are you taking me?"

Scar led her to a further place away from the others, approaching a medium sized hut. Skulls and bones remained hanging around it, his trophies of past hunts. He led her inside left her there. "Well, this is great. I get fucked by some sort of alien, fall asleep and wake up to a knockoff Pandora planet like I'm in some sort of Avatar movie, and now I'm wearing this slutty outfit like I'm a stripper or something! I don't even know your name, that big one in that temple was looking at me like I was his next meal, I don't know what's going on and you still aren't saying anything to me-!"

"Scar." He growled as he approached her, easily overshadowing her as he watched her. "S-Scar?. . . That's your name?" She whispered as she slightly stepped back. "Top-Knot ha-as agreed to ma-ake you Blooded ally. He accepts yo-ou, but for yo-ou to keep your non-co. You mus-st become a kv'var-de." Y/n could piece his words together, but she didn't understand that word.

"A-A what? A kavalar?" Scar shook his head and knelt on one knee to be close to her height. "Kv'var-de. . . Hunter." He said. Y/n looked at her clothing then at him, "What if I don't want to become a hunter?" She whispered, "I'm weak. I'm not like you or the others out there. . . I'm just. . . Human."

He snarled, tilting his head but remained watching her, "M-di ooman can kill kiande amedha." He growled out. ". . . Huh?" His mandibles clicked as he stood again. "We te-each each othe-er." He said before walking out of the area and into another small room in the hut. She was left confused and lost in their language, how long is this going to last?

~Y/n pov~

Scar was true to his word about teaching each other something. He showed me how to sign, speak, and understand their language, after he tested my learning by signing a sentence out for me. Which I barely understood, so he flicked my head for messing up—it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, but I forgot how much bigger and stronger he was compared to me. I'd teach him how to pronounce and understand English words and sentences, and in return, I'd be able to smack his chest—which I doubt even hurt this S'yuit-de.

He'd throw tiny insults here and there at me, call me a Hulij-bpe jehdin, which I finally found that it meant Crazy One, or Crazy Individual. So in return for learning his language, I called him S'yuit-de kv'var-de, which meant Pathetic Hunter, or Idiot Hunter. And I knew it offended him when he'd just quietly glare down at me, but I enjoyed it. At least four or three days have passed already and I've been dragged out into the unfamiliar world, I'd watch how he'd hunt and kill our next meal. It was upsetting but oddly satisfying to see. I saw the trees and strange like flying creatures that they had, but nothing prepared me to see the females who passed through.

I could feel their judgemental eyes lingering on me when I wasn't looking, they were taller than the males. Around eight feet tall at most, broader and rather aggressive. "Why are they staring at me?" I whispered to Scar. "They do not approve of ooman-dei."

They don't approve of human women. . . That explains it. They'd snap and flare their mandibles when I looked at them, I kept my eyes and head low out of submission, to not pose as a threat. I felt like I was at a new school and the mean girls were already scheming against me. Scar pulled my arm and held me against his body when a Yautja approached us, it was a female and of course she started to communicate to him.

My broken understanding of the Yautja language could only pick up so much. They rarely talk, but they used sounds to communicate to one another. The female arched her back and flared her mandibles at Scar, he roared at her before she shoved my shoulder back. Almost shoving me to the ground if it weren't for Scar's hand.

He told me about this. When a Yautja pushes your shoulder with their hand: they're challenging you for a fight.

I started to panic, my strength was nothing compared to Scar's, or even a female! I didn't know what they were clearly arguing about but it made her pissed off to the point where she wanted to fight me. And most likely kill me during that fight. "What's happening?!" I asked. She roared at me and Scar finally shoved her backwards out of defense when she tried to grab me.

He picked me up and his lower mandibles were flaring, before he carried me away from the female who was staring me down.

~~~

He didn't bring it up once, but it was on replay in my head, I'm pretty sure he sensed my confusion since he decided to lay beside me on the large furry cot. It was soft and comfortable to lay on, something I didn't expect. ". . . Scar, how long am I going to stay here." I asked him.

He raised his hand and tested me, he signed out what I could possibly read out as: Until you become Hunter. I held my head before asking, "How much time do I have until the Elders test me?"

He signed again: Two Weeks.

I groaned and laid on my back as I looked at the ceiling, I still wore the same revealing outfit before looking at him. "Why was that female mad? Did I do something wrong?" I whispered to him. "M-di. . . She wanted me to breed her." He answered.

"Why did she challenge me?" I questioned, slowly scooting closer to his larger frame and resting my head on his bicep. "I said m-di to her. I told her that you were my mate." I looked at him and felt my heart jump out of my chest. His mate. His mate!

"I-I—You told me that Yautja don't mate for life, you just. . . Reproduce?" Scar lowly purred before his sharp eyes looked in mine. "No-t you and me." He replied. I rested my face on his large pec and bit my lip, feeling that flutter of butterflies swirl in my gut when I thought of being his. His alone. He's not going to mate with anyone else except me. It then led me to getting an idea that would probably scare the crap out of any other chick, but not me, clearly I'm the crazy one for wanting to fuck this Yautja.

I sat up and sighed as I let my head hang back, "Do you still think about it? That night we spent together?" I asked him, he let out a deep growl before I turned and straddle his large hips. His eyes opened and found mine, "I still think about it." I added—letting my hips slowly grind against his loincloth, which I felt growing stiffer every passing second.

"Prove that you are not just kv'var-de, but a good Pauk-de as well." I smirked. Kv'var-de meant Hunter, but Pauk-de meant Fucker. His growl reverberated through me before he shoved me onto my back, pinning my arms above my head as he growled at me. "Do no-t temp me, Hulij-bpe jehdin." He warned, his dreadlocks brushed against my shoulders and arms. I let my right leg graze his waist as I arched my back on purpose—letting my top press perfectly against my breasts to show them off to him.

"What if I want you tempted?" I giggled, his mandibles clicked and snapped, he growled before placing his jaws on my shoulder and biting down on me. I gasped and let out a choked groan when he released my skin, licking up the blood that formed from the small puncture wounds.

"You need me to ell-osde' puak." He snarled out, I understood those words clearly: You need me to fuck you. "Sei-i." I mewled, yes, yes, I did want him to fuck me. I don't know what's been up with me, but I've been craving more of Scar ever since I got here. I've been pissing him off to make him snap, but clearly he has restraint. Maybe all I needed to do was make it obvious.

I lifted my hips into his and bit my lip when I felt his erection, "Come on, puak me, Scar." I purred. His jaws snapped in front of my face, I only responded by lifting my head and licking his mandibles. He held my wrists down with one hand, and let his other reach down to move my cloth to the side. A soft sigh left me when I felt his large length rub against my folds, "Kwei ooman-dei. . ." He snarled. Sly human woman.

I wanted to try something I've never done, but I wasn't sure. "Scar, please." I begged. His repetitive clicking was a sign of him chuckling at me, I whimpered when he notched the tip of his unnatural cock inside of me. Slowly pushing each inch into me, I could feel my cunt being stretched and accepting his invading length.

His hands clenched my wrists while he continued to sheath himself inside of me—finally gasping when his full cock was buried inside of my velvet canal. My legs hugged his sides as I arched my back, "Scar!" I moaned out; his scale covered body was emitting heat onto mine, his hand undid my top before he cupped my breasts. Squeezing and kneading them—exploring my body with his hand.

Slowly, he started to roll his hips into me. He earned multiple mewls, grunts, and moans from me; hisses and growls came from him, his tongue trailed up from between the valleys of my breasts, up my throat and into my mouth. I whined as I pressed my tongue against his forked one, he pulled out and heavily thrusted himself into me.

"Eek!" I yelped, I felt his claws tickle my side as it brushed down the side of my ribs and my waist to hold my thigh open. He watched as he slowly pulled out to the tip—then sinking back into me. Purring as he enjoyed the sensation of his cock being squeezed by my tight cunt, "More, more, Scar!" I pleaded as I clenched my knuckles.

Scar enjoyed being in control, taking his time and relaxing in the experience. He told me that the females were aggressive during their mating, and from what happened this morning, I believed him. Scar's pumps into me was satisfying to hear, it felt so amatory. He finally released my wrists and gripped my hips—he stood on his knees and lifted my lower body off the bed. I cried out when he continued to fuck me in such a lewd position.

It was so hot to see this Predator take what he wanted from me, such a sweet way but with harsh strength. "Ngh! Yes! Yes! Scar! Ah, keep going!" I exhorted out. Scar's snarls turn into a growling purr as he dug his nails into my flesh—I felt his thrusts get a bit harder. My mouth was agape as he started to get quicker with his grinding. He stilled inside of me fully for a moment and lifted my back towards his face—dragging his tongue over my breasts and tasting me.

I hummed with satisfaction as I let my body melt in his hands, he was so strong, it didn't bother him to hold me and fuck me at the same time. I touched his dreadlocks and licked one of them, he roared before he started to piston his cock up into my stretched cunt. "Oh fuck!" I screamed out with agonizing pleasure. The room was already hot and so was the weather, my body was shedding sweat as he grinded his musclar self onto me.

I dug my nails into his shoulders as he kept going, moaning at each heavy pump he made—my nails dragged down his skin but he didn't care. I doubted he even felt it. His skin texture was so different compared to mine, his strength, his eyes, his demeanor and culture. Everything was unique about him.

My end was nearing, I was going to cum, I was so close to cumming. I let my hand started teasing my clit as he kept fucking me, his large paw cupped my head while he wrapped the other around my waist—still keeping me midair. Weak and broken gasps croaked from my soaked lips as he kept getting rougher.

That tight band—tighter and coiling up in a tight ball, about to blow. The light from the stick of dynamite about to denote within my nerves—my hands instinctively grabbed his dreadlocks and held on. He roared again and hugged my torso tightly. Thrusting faster than before, my tongue was hanging out like a bitch in heat, my heart racing faster than a race horse as I finally squealed—feeling my juices coat our lower areas.

The spark ignited and finally blew. The shocks burned through my limbs and my sight went white as I shut my eyes, my breath lost from my lungs as I climaxed on his thick cock still ramming into me. My sensitive squeaks and cries were ignored by Scar—he was lost in the wave of his own pleasure.

I knew we'd be here all night, I'm tired out, but he won't be anytime soon. He told me he finished quickly last time because I was exhausted, but now, I'm sure he'll stop. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and rested my head on him, he still didn't slow down. My body was beginning to feel like lead as I tried to speak. But I couldn't.

I was too exhausted by this. So exhausted, I wanted to sleep. . . Which I did eventually.

~3rd pov~

The sun had risen, and so did Y/n. She woke up to a messy cot, her top on the floor as she remained wearing the bottom piece. She woke up to an empty bed, Scar was gone and she didn't know where he went. She got up and tied on her top once again before heading walking out of the room to find him.

"Scar?" Y/n muttered, crossing her arms as she slowly walked around the hut, checking the meat room, the main area and even outside next. No sign of Scar. She was worried until she remembered that he was probably out on a hunt. Sighing, she walked to the room again and sat on the bed. Relaxing into the pelt as she thought about him.

She just woke up, fully clean and even tucked into the pelt, he cleaned her and fixed her up in bed. She lightly traced her lips with her fingers as she smiled at the thought of a extraterrestrial being treating her like a lover. Some time passed and he returned to the hut, she looked and saw him drop a strange creature on the ground before entering the room. Carrying a box with him.

She crawled on her hands and knees on the bed and sat as she looked at him, "I missed you." She said. Scar let out a deep hum as he approached her, she reached up and planted a kiss on his shoulder. A growl escaped him as he handed her the box. She took it and started to open it up, her brow arching when she saw the odd outfit.

"What is this-?. . . Wait a minute." She mumbled, pulling out a fishnet outfit with solid pieces of armor on important places such as the breasts, and the nether regions. Reminding her of Scar's own armor, she lifted the fishnet outfit and saw a silver mask that looked similar to Scar's just without the blooded mark. It wasn't big, but it was her size. Arm cuffs and a small weapon within it. She looked at him with a confused look.

"Today. . . yo-ou Kv'var." He said to her. She gulped as she looked down at the custom made armor.

Today, she hunts.

_______________________________________________

I hope you enjoyed the sequel!

#fanfic #smutwarning #slow burn #yautja smut #yautja x you #yautja x human #yautja x reader #yautja #predator x human #predator x you #predator x reader #alien vs predator #predator smut #predator

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graceofagodswrath · 9 months ago

Text

Humans are Feral: Part 3

This is actually a continuation of the first part, but in a different scenario. I wanted to write a story with the idea of a human pack-bonding to an alien and going feral after seeing the alien hurt. It would a be a moment where aliens realize that while humans are dangerous, this kind of loyalty they can have for anyone or thing is a rarity and should be respected.

I also wanted to play around with the ideas of aliens reacting to human courtship. I’ve seen lots of headcannons and ideas as to how aliens may react to our openness when it comes to romantic relationships. Aka alien/monster fuckers. I hate you all because I am one of you.

So I decided to mix both and go with the scenario: what if a human’s alien S/O was threatened and hurt? I love the cliche of people going rabid after a loved one is hurt, it’s so nice to see humans actually caring for each other in this day and age.

WARNINGS - Implications of sexual trafficking, death, and violence.

Inter-species relationships were not an uncommon thing. However, they were met with equal skepticism and hate as they were welcome.

When humans joined the mix of races in the outer systems, it threw off those with prejudices against such relationships. While the young race was not without it it’s own trivial prejudices, the openness at which they had to forming lifepairs with non-human beings was unexpected. As humans branched out and their strange reputation became more than simple youngling stories, another reputation began to rise. That was of humans as life-mates.

While many still spurned others for finding partners outside their races, among the community it was seen as a huge honor to have a human as a life-mate. They were deemed high-maintenance and challenging to match, yet their loyalty held no bounds.

It wasn’t long before this became a small joke among the humans. They knew their species, and the idea the outer races had of them as lovers was too good not to joke about.

While they could not quell the rising rumors and fantastical stories surrounding their species, as much as it annoyed some, others took it in stride.

Quil’ian was a xicali of the dexi-10 planetary system, from the jungle planet Huvarrh. Stunningly large beasts, xicalis resembled bipedal humanoids with two pairs of arms and four fingered hands. Smooth, iridescent skin emblazoned with unique patterns covered their bodies. In dark spaces they often glowed with their own soft bioluminescence. Two large eyes of various dappled shades sat on either side of their flat noses. Scientists theorized that humans and xicalis must have had a similar evolutionary path from an ancestor of ape-like characteristics. But where humans remained in the ground, xicalis remained in the trees, their strong arms capable of immense strength for swinging from branch to branch.

Quil’ian was such a xicali. His skin shimmered a cerulean blue so deep it rivaled the gemstones of Farcauv. His eyes were pools of amber, one his partner said reminded them of a sweet syrup called honey from their home.

Quil’ian’s life partner was a human named Amira. She was a well-respected starship engineer from the eastern reaches of the Terran homeworld. Black hair, sun-darkened skin and eyes the color of rich garden soil. She had a laugh like the singing bird calls of his homeworld, and soft words of whispered sweetness that made his legs weak. She was the light of Quil’ian’s life.

When they were about in public and chose to display their affections, it more than often drew side glances. Scathing looks. Jealousy. Yearning. Disgust. They paid no mind.

They found work together, traveling to distant worlds and exploring the nether reaches of the universe. Amira would be hired on as an engineer for a ship, while Quil’ian would work as a docker, using his natural xicali strength to move shipments and ship parts. They made quite the pair for any employer.

It was on such a job, on the freelancer starship Queen Diogovay, they found themselves in a dangerous situation. Alien Marauders had attacked, demanding all shipment and valuable items. And the captain was going to let them have it. They weren't going to risk violence and an injured crew. Until the marauders realized there were humans aboard.

Ever since humans had entered the galactum, the trafficking industry boomed. The want for humans for servitude, experimentation, and especially sexual uses made humans beyond valuable. One pretty Terran could make over several billion kronor.

Upon the Queen Diogovay there were five human crew members, including Amira. And the marauders wanted every one of them. When the pirates first grabbed hold of the ship, three of the humans disappeared while Amira and Sam stayed with the crew to try to keep the trespassers at bay.

This proved to be of no use, as the bastards pushed their way past the barriers and blood was spilled without hesitation. Quil’ian made a split second decision and grabbed both Amira and Sam, throwing the pilot over his shoulders and his mate safely in his secondary arms. Then they were booking it down the hallway.

Quil’ian had it in his head to reach one of the evac pods before the pirates caught up to them. The Captain had been against using them to try to keep the ship and goods from the marauders, but they were most likely dead now, the orders void. And Quil’ian had decided from the start his mate was his first priority.

He was several turns from the pods when a kalik hound rounded the corner and slammed into them full force. A creature commonly used for violence, it opened its massive jaws and jumped at the xicali. Pain tore its way up Quil’ian’s leg, and he couldn’t think past the feeling of the hound’s fangs tearing his calf apart and Amira screeching like a jakvy bird. Then the feeling of the hound’s fangs disappeared as soon as they sunk in.

Quil’ian opened his eyes to see Amira atop the hound, arms wrapped around its throat as she attempted to choke it into submission. Sam had a metal pipe in their hands and was slamming into the hound’s face. The two were snarling and screaming right back at the alien dog, enough fury in their eyes to rival the violent creature. And Quil’ian watched as his mate tipped her head back and sunk her own teeth into the soft flesh of the beast’s neck.

It screamed, and Sam shoved the metal pipe down its throat, flesh tearing as the pole exited through the underside of its jugular. It fell to the ground thrashing, but the two humans doubled down in their efforts until the beast stilled. Quil’ian had never witnessed a hound fall so easily, the beasts known for their dexterity.

Then Amira was by his side, her mouth covered in the hound’s orange blood. Her hands made quick work of the sweatshirt she was wearing, tearing it into a single strip to wrap around the massacre that was the xicali’s leg. Her hands were gentle, a drastic change from the viciousness he just witnessed. The xicali stared at her for a moment, then concluded he would have been just as violent had the beast wrapped its jaws around her. If anything, a shiver went up his spine, one that was not unpleasant, at the realization that his human mate was willing to go to such drastic measures to protect him.

When the binding was done, Amira and Sam did their best to haul Quil’ian to his feet, the xicali towering above them. They made their way to the evac pods, spurred on by the distant yells and screeches from the marauders. It was both surprising and not when they got there and found the three other humans preparing the pods. One of them, Kaeveon, immediately went to their aid, muttering about the captain being a “fucking fool” and how they should have jumped as soon as the pirates boarded.

But all went calm as they entered the pod. The pirates were apparently too busy searching the entire Queen Diogovay for the missing humans to consider that they were already gone. In moments they were out in deep space, heading to the nearest station they could take refuge at. Amira was tucked into Quil’ian’s side for the whole duration, the couple refusing to let the other go. They treated the xicali’s injury with the med kit in the pod. It was enough the keep the woman from fussing over him too much, though her mate admitted to himself that he was rather basking in her concerned care.

Perhaps, after this incident, Quil’ian would try to convince her to settle somewhere. Maybe back on his home planet, in a small home in the trees, with a view she would love.

I’m sorry this took forever to put out. Not my best work since I started it months ago and lost the motivation until now. My mental health hasn’t been the best these pst few months, but we’re on the up, and writing this has definitely put some inspiration back on the table. Hope y’all enjoy this smaller snippet. And I really like the possibilities with Quil’ian and Amira, so maybe I’ll have some more stories starring them.

#humans are space orcs #humans are crazy #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #humans are weird #my writing #shower thoughts #humans are feral series

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dark-frosted-heart · 2 months ago

Text

Choose Your True Love - Keith Howell (part 1/4)

This is the from the 4th anniversary event

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

The twittering of birds stirred me from my slumber.

(Mmm…I ended up falling asleep)

(Huh, but I was waiting for Keith in his room, so how did I wind up in his secret room…)

When I sat up and rubbed my sleepy eyes, I felt something hit my hand.

It was Prince Keith’s diary, with its neat script unfinished.

(It’s an old diary. Was I reading this before I fell asleep…)

I stared up as I tried to remember—the sight that greeted me had me jump to my feet.

(No way…Half of Prince Keith’s diaries are missing…What in the…)

The shelves looked so empty, but I couldn’t find the missing diaries anywhere.

While I tried to wrap my head around what happened, I heard the door open.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: Prince Keith! The diaries—

Alter!Keith: …

(Huh…?)

I suddenly felt a painful tug on my arm and found myself pinned against a bookshelf.

He held my wrists above my head and glared down at me with cold eyes.

It’s the first time anyone's been this hostile toward me.

Alter!Keith: Who’re you? Why’re you here?

Emma: Huh, who…I’m Emma.

Alter!Keith: Emma? Sorry, but I don’t remember anyone with that name.

(It doesn’t sound like he’s joking. Does he really not know me…?)

(...Calm down. Panicking won’t change things)

I was trembling in confusion and fear, but I took some breaths to calm myself down.

~~ Flashback ~~

(It’s an old diary. Was I reading this before I fell asleep…)

(No way…Half of Prince Keith’s diaries are missing…What in the…)

~~ Flashback end ~~

(If the diaries never existed in the first place rather than just suddenly disappearing front he bookshelves…then Prince Keith’s reaction is “justifiable”)

(Am I…in the past?)

Emma: …

A large hand touched my neck and a chill went down my spine at the feeling of my life being in his hands.

Alter!Keith: You thinking about something? You’re underestimating me just ‘cause you’re dealing with a failure. Some damn noble told me I shouldn’t be nice to trespassers just ‘cause they’re female.

The grip around my neck tightened slightly.

(I don’t know if he’ll believe me. But at this rate, he won’t be just threatening me)

The wicked Prince Keith in front of me was way more like a beast than the one I knew.

Emma: …I have no idea why I’m here.

But one thing I know is that I’m not from this time, rather, I’m from the future.

Alter!Keith: Haha, your skills at deception suck so bad that it almost sounds true. You got proof?

Emma: …I know who “you” are. You’re a Prince Keith with an alternate personality…I know why you were born.

Alter!Keith: …

Emma: Please, believe me.

His golden eyes wavered, as if doubting reality.

As he opened his mouth to speak, a knock sounded on the door in the other room.

Liam: ……Excuse me?

It was Liam, Prince Keith’s butler.

He stared at me in surprise and raised a brow.

Liam: Prince Keith…What is the meaning of this?

This pressure he’s exuding…He must think that wicked Prince Keith snuck a woman in.

Prince Keith gave an irritatingly wicked smile.

Alter!Keith: Found her in the study. Our guest says she’s from the future.

Liam: ……Huh?

(He furrowed his brows…That’s a valid reaction)

(But even I’m surprised)

Emma: You believe me, Prince Keith?

Alter!Keith: It’s not that. But “my” existence is also improbable. So someone coming from the future isn’t impossible either. You said your name’s Emma? Tell me the reason why I was born.

Emma: Well…

(Though it’s something that happened to the nice Prince Keith, it’s still a painful past for the wicked Prince Keith)

I stuttered as I recalled the pained look on Prince Keith’s face when he told me.

Alter!Keith: …You actually know. Liam, you believe it a little more now, don’t you?

Emma: Did you just ask him to verify?

Alter!Keith: I said I didn’t believe you.

Liam: The reason is as absurd as ever. …However, I don’t believe you’re lying. Besides, you’re the first to not freak out about Prince Keith acting differently from usual. But even I…didn’t believe you in the beginning.

(Liam and Prince Keith have known each other since they were children)

(Maybe it took him a moment to come to terms with reality because he was too confused)

Those furrowed brows and look of regret broke my heart.

Alter!Keith: We can throw her into a cell and torture her if she acts suspicious. You don’t look like you’re good at running away.

Emma: I won’t. Rather, I won’t leave your side no matter what. Because I personally don’t want to.

Alter!Keith: Oh? You care a lot about this failure. A guy without any merit.

Emma: What, yes he does. He has a lot.

Alter!Keith: Fine, he has a lot. Pardon me.

(...He just brushed me off)

(At least I can stick around as long as I don’t act suspicious…That’s a relief)

Suddenly, what happened in the study came to mind.

(Now that I think about it, I wonder what Prince Keith was going to say)

Alter!Keith: …So, did you bring it Liam?

Liam: Yes. Please be careful with it.

Alter!Keith: It’d be better to spread them out. That way, they can wreck each other and resolve this immediately.

He snickered, took the documents, and looked over them.

He was smiling, but his eyes were surprisingly cold.

Alter!Keith: Reliable as ever. Good boy. For now, I’ll go pay the guys here a visit. Prepare a carriage.

Liam: On it.

After bowing, Liam left the room.

My eyes drifted to the documents and some of the names on it caught my attention.

(If I recall correctly, they’re all nobles that support the king’s brother)

I remember coming across them while I was reading books to prepare myself for my official duties.

Emma: Um, what exactly are these documents?

Alter!Keith: …Wanna come along?

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri jp #ikepri translations #keith howell #ikepri keith

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thescarletnargacuga · 2 months ago

Text

I AM SEEN

PART 5 OF THE UNSEEN SERIES: A HARLEQUIN AU FANFICTION

AU credit @iamespecter @tadc-harlequin-au

Shadowblade is my OC and NOT CANON

MOTSI by @paper-fowl

WARNING: some angst, swearing

~~~

"Welcome back." Caine smiled at the slowly waking Shadowblade. "And congratulations. I saw you break free."

Shadowblade lowly rumbled and leaned into his kind touch, still feeling the stressing fear of her dreamlike experience. For the first time, she noticed the warmth of his hand. It was so subtle, barely noticeable against her thick hide, but there. Comfort.

Caine was slid sideways from Shadowblade nuzzling against him. He steadied himself and gave her an empathetic look. "I'm sorry. For everything I ever said about your creators. I never realized... I should have been more thorough when we first brought you back, I was so wrapped up in how different you were that I didn't stop to ask why. Can you ever forgive me?" He looks directly into Shadowblade's bright gold eyes, seeing vines of black on the edges. A large dark spot formed a slitted pupil, the illusion of a real eye.

Shadowblade closed her eyes and nuzzled against Caine a little harder. He had no way of knowing who she was, she barely understood it now with all the memories swimming around in her head.

Caine laughed, trying to push back against the overpowering affection. "Okay, okay, thank you for being so underst-"

Shadowblade opened her maw and a large black tongue dragged up Caine's front, leaving a trail of strangely yellow saliva. She shook her head happily, flopping her tongue all over the place. There was a sense of taste again. Her own mouth tastes of metal and grime but it was nice to have the sensation back.

Caine stood stunned by the unexpected tongue attack. "Well, uh, I'm glad you're excited." He wiped his face.

Pomni stood watch outside with Jax, Gangle and their newest marionette addition: MOTSI, the snake-like bullet train. The train sat coiled around a smaller building across the street, waiting patiently for instructions on it's next destination. Pomni kept a vigilante eye out for hostile marionettes but the area was as quiet as ever. The charm on her right hand came to life with a soft glow, mixed feelings of fear and relief growing into happiness. "Shadowblade!" She gasped and rushed inside.

Pomni walked in on Caine being nearly slurped off his feet by Shadowblade. "Woah! Since when have you had one of those?" Pointing to the tongue lolling out the side of Shadowblade's maw. She barely had time to react as Shadowblade lunged at her. "Hey! No! Shadowblade! Down!" But it was too late, she got tongued. Her hair stuck out sideways from the thick saliva. "....thanks." She grumbled, but couldn't hold her sour face with Shadowblade nuzzling against her aggressively. "Good to see you too."

Shadowblade calmed and rumbled against Pomni, who leaned her forehead against Shadowblade's face in return.

Caine held out a handkerchief to Pomni. "I did what I could to get Shadowblade walking again, but there's nothing I can do for the wing until we get back to the manor."

Pomni accepted the handkerchief and wiped her face. "Good thing we have another mode of transportation waiting outside. The center cars of the MOTSI are quite large. I think we could make Shadowblade fit."

"I'm ready to get out of here if you are. This place gives me the creeps." Caine shuddered dramatically.

"And you didn't even see the basement."

"The what now?"

"It wasn't this warehouse, but we found the basement Shadowblade came from. We think. We were attacked before we could really make heads or tails of the place."

"Show me."

Shadowblade followed Caine and Pomni to the warehouse where the showdown with the silver beast began. The roof was completely collapsed, but Shadowblade made short work of the debris blocking the basement. Unhindered by confusing memories, she marched ahead of Caine and Pomni into the depths.

The wide spiralling stairs led down to a decrepit laboratory. Much of the equipment was destroyed beyond recognition. Shrapnel of multi colored crystals littered the floor. The dark, lonely basement was lit my Shadowblade's blazing eyes scanning the surroundings.

Caine whistles lowly. "The son did a number on this place."

"That's the second time you've mentions a son. What are you talking about?" Pomni asked.

"Back at the manor, I tapped into the void and found the soul responsible for all of this. He mentioned one other like Shadowblade. Called him the 'traitorous son'. I can only assume, but the Master- Don't give me that look. His words, not mine. Anyway, after the success of Shadowblade, the Master used his own son to create another, but somehow lost control."

"The silver beast."

"Yep."

"That thing was insane. Shots energy beams and everything."

"Energy beams? ....if the Master wasn't such a raging piece of shit, I'd say he was a man after my own heart."

"Don't get any ideas. Shadowblade needs time away from cutting tools and invasive procedures."

"I wasn't. Besides, I don't think there anything salvageable down here." Caine kicked a small piece of debris.

Shadowblade moved slowly through the lab. The place looked entirely different but it felt the same: claustrophobic, violating, painful. Towards the back, there were two excessively large rooms with thick metal doors. A name plate was on each: Silverwind and Warshroud.

The name Warshroud brought back the memories of the lab. Being trapped, torn apart, disoriented and isolated. The undeniable directive to obey.

Shadowblade bared her blades on her undamaged wing and lashed at the door. In a shower of sparks, a huge slash mark crossed out the name of Warshroud.

The MOTSI train slithered towards the City of Circuits at top speed. It's belly was nearly frictionless against the ground as energy surged with it's movements. Jax rode atop the train's head, thoroughly enjoying himself. Gangle preferred to stay in the control car, she could see the world zipping by just fine through the window.

Caine and Pomni rode in one of the cargo cars with Shadowblade. The dragonesque puppet was a tight fit, but they made it work.

"Jax says we could be back in the City of Circuits in as little as an hour. Man, we should've grabbed one of these snake trains sooner." Caine leaned against the wall, crossing his legs.

Pomni gave a non-committal hum to Caine's comment. She was focused on Shadowblade, reaching out through the connection. "What's your real name?"

Shadowblade didn't have an answer. She shook her head.

"Do you remember everything about your last life?"

Shadowblade titled their head side to side in an unsure gesture.

Caine added his own question. "So you want to remain a dragon? I'm quite the puppet builder. I could make you a new body."

Shadowblade looked down, eyes moving with thought. She shook.

"Really?" Caine said, somewhat surprised. "I mean, I respect your decision, but can I ask why?"

Shadowblade thought again, then shook.

Pomni smiled. "She says you're rude for asking."

"She did not." Caine huffed defensively. "It was a legitimate question. Communication is pretty limited like this."

"Seems to be working so far." Pomni shrugged. "Maybe you're not listening enough."

"Like you would know anything about that." Caine muttered under his breath.

"Oh, I listen. I just don't care."

"Dismissing what other people have to say is just as bad." Caine argued.

"Doing my own thing has gotten me this far. It'll keep getting me where I need to be." Pomni moved closer to Caine.

"I had hoped you'd understand the meaning of teamwork at this point. I'm sorry to say I'm sorely disappointed." Caine didn't budge, not letting the Harlequin intimidate him.

"I'm not here for your approval." Pomni would've turned away, but she stumbled right into Caine. Sharowblade had batted her from behind. Feelings of smug satisfaction came through the connection.

Caine caught Pomni as she fell into him. Their faces close, Caine smirks. "We really should stop meeting like this."

Pomni stood up straight with a flustered huff. "I'm going to check on Gangle." She slid open the door leading to the forward car and left.

"Thanks." Caine rubbed his neck. "Sometimes we get caught up in our own egos, but there's rarely any real malice behind it all."

Shadowblade sent a feeling through the connection with Pomni that could be summed up as "I know your secrets."

The MOTSI parked itself around the border wall of the manor. Their long body easily goes around the entire property, their head and tail almost touching near the gate. The train doors open to let out the passengers, but Shadowblade's struggles to get out as much as they did to get it.

She claws at the ground, metal grinding against metal as she slowly squeezes out. With a thunk, she flies forward and scorpions on the ground outside the train.

Caine walks out behind her, chuckling. "Smooth."

Shadowblade snorts at him as she gets up.

Jax slides off MOTSI's head. "This is your new station. Stay here." The snake powered down it's eyes, going into sleep mode until another trip was required.

Gangle gracefully exited the train, happy to be in safer territory again. "You simply must tell me how you learned to operate these, Sir Jax."

"Not like it hard." He shrugged. "Most of it's voice command. Say, why don't you come with me," He put an arm over her shoulders. "And I'll teach you."

"Just me?" Gangle asked shyly.

"Well, I'm not inviting Pomni. She doesn't take commands very well." He led her off towards the manor, but called out to Caine as they passed. "Hey, I'll be expecting my payment soon."

Caine rolled his eyes. He'd actually almost forgotten. Of course Jax wouldn't.

Pomni joined Caine with Shadowblade to the barn. He looked around, it wasn't a bad place but it wasn't befitting a person. "I'll talk to Z about getting this place upgraded. You may have to sleep in specialized quarters, but that doesn't mean you should be stuck with the dirt. Yet another thing I feel inclined to apologize for."

Pomni avoided eye contact with Shadowblade, but the emotion came through loud and clear in the connection. Guilt. She's treated Shadowblade like an animal at best, a tool at worst. Regret stabbed at the back of her mind.

Shadowblade looked from one to the other, and using a single claw, wrote in the dirt. "F-R-I-E-N-D"

"I'm glad you consider us friends, even after everything." Caine felt like he could breathe easier. "You've been through so much to get to this point. You know what that calls for? A celebration!"

"A party? Now?" Pomni and the others had been up for over twenty four hours. There was no way anyone was in the mood to party.

"No, no, tomorrow! It should be a whole day dedicated to celebrating the enlightenment of our newest member. Especially since we didn't even know it was possible."

"....you just want to drink all day."

"No! I-"

Shadowblade gave him the same look as Pomni.

Caine sighed, defeated. "I just want to drink. Can you blame me? I have some new guilt to suppress. And who knows, maybe Shadowblade can drink too. Worth a try, I'd say. Anyway, you should rest, Shadowblade. I'll be out to fix your wing later. Pomni, a word?"

Pomni gave Shadowblade's one last look before leaving with Caine. A feeling of calm resolve sent through. She followed Caine as he walked out of earshot of everyone, towards the edge of the woods filling the manor grounds.

"Pomni, are you alright? You mentioned encountering HIM."

"I'm fine... He didn't touch me." She remembered the oppressive force of the Patriarch's soul. The fear it instilled in her was unmatched and unnatural. She hated herself for being such a coward in his presence.

"I know, but he doesn't need to in order to affect you."

Pomni crossed her arms in an attempt to appear stoic, but the subconscious self soothing motion made it obvious she was uncomfortable. "He took the core of the silver beast and the journal of information connected to project Warshroud. He's planning something. Something big. We need to be more careful going forward."

Caine was shocked. "Be more careful? From you?"

"Yeah....well, he could've killed me or taken Shadowblade or both, but he didn't. Maybe he thought that would be too easy. Look, I've met death a lot over in my time with you, and I've never feared it, but being around the Patriarch...makes me afraid. I don't know what he's capable of, but something tells me I wouldn't even see the void if he ended me."

Caine gently took Pomni's hands, uncrossing them from her chest. His thumbs caressed her knuckles soothingly. "That won't happen."

Pomni didn't have the energy to argue or pull away, not that she wanted to. Not this time. She quietly reveled in his comfort. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I won't let him take you away from me."

"You're such a sap." Pomni tried to sound harsh but her voice carried no such tone.

"You have no idea." He said quietly. "No plans for tomorrow aside from getting drunk. Rest as much as you need."

"You really care, don't you?" Her gaze softened.

"I do." His hands gently squeezed hers.

"Simp."

Caine snorted and bust out laughing, Pomni with him.

Shadowblade sat in the barn entrance, gazing at the stars. Their wings in one piece, freshly mended by Caine, she flexed them while taking in the night sky. The memories were still a lot to take in. Coming to the forefront of her mind in bursts. Sometimes she was a child. Sometimes an adult. Sometimes joyous. Sometimes afraid. Sometimes full of sorrow. A lifetime condensed into one D.I.E. How did it ever hold it all?

Lights from the manor gradually dimmed as the residents went to bed. Even Kingr retreated to his single quarters next to the barn for the night. The only one that remained was Z. They never slept.

Shadowblade wasn't tired in the slightest. In fact, she had energy. She wanted to go somewhere. She stepped fully out of the barn and stretched her wings. The night was young, the air was fresh and the wind was calm. Perfect conditions. She jumped up into the air and beat her wings for a vertical launch. The oversized manor below became small as she gained more and more altitude quickly, reaching for the stars themselves.

She grazed the underside of a thin cloud before changing to an outward glide. She flew high over the City of Circuits. The dark city is illuminated by only the moonlight. The rush of the wind washed away all that plagued her below. Up here, she was truly free. No Masters. No cages. No saddles.

Shadowblade roared with elation. The buildings below echo back the joyous noise. She flew higher. Tucking her wings in as she punched through the clouds, coming face to face with the moon. She reached out, as though to touch it, and fell back first through the clouds again. She turned to nose dive at the ground. Air rushing past faster, and faster. The City beckoned to her, but she denied it. She opens her wings and swooped over the highest building by mere feet. She weaved between and around the taller structures, and under a wide bridge. She couldn't be stopped. She was free!

She flew all the way out of the city limits, to the rocky formations that lay in the lands between cities. Shadowblade landed gracefully on the highest point, only slipping a little as she settled. Her systems vented hard from the flight as she surveyed her surroundings. The world was still beautiful in its own way. Quiet. Peaceful.

Her mind wandered to the plethora of unprocessed memories. A repeated word came to her in many of them.

Badorman.

Miss Badorman.

People with faces she did not know said that name over and over, until the woman she met in her dream came to mind. Mother did not call her Badorman. In memories of simple joy and harshest sorrow, she heard "Scarlet."

"My beautiful Scarlet."

Shadowblade whimpered. A tear of black fluid escaped her mechanical eye.

"I wish we had more time."

Shadowblade tried to speak, but her unfamiliar tongue lulled weirdly in her inhuman mouth. All that came out was mechanical whirring and screeching from the shredder in the back of her throat. She stomped, quaking the rock she sat upon and growled.

"Scarlet...be good for me."

Shadowblade kept hearing the voice of her mother. Memories playing in her head like a broken film. She was in a room that smelled of medicine and flowers, holding mother's hand. Mother was in bed. She was frail, but not from age. Disease had ravaged her body.

"I wish there was more I could leave you, but the war has taken everything...at least you found yourself a good station. I will rest well knowing my daughter is not on the street."

Shadowblade whined and screeched, more black tears fell.

"I love you."

Shadowblade went still. Mother's hand went limp; gone silently into that good night. The last person to love her was gone. Black tears stained the stone below.

The following memories rushed by in a blur. Servitude. Forced obedience. War. The blood of hundreds. Silence. Left in the dark. Suspended alone. Eternal. Then a break in the stone that held. A voice that demanded battle.

"Take THAT! Some creature of legend you were! I've had worse fights with Bubble!" The woman's voice taunted.

Shadowblade looked in the direction of the manor, seeing a few pin prick lights still lit.

"You can't just give up!" "Get up! I know there's more in you than that!!" "Come on!"

Pomni the combat harlequin spoke truth, even to her enemies. There was more in Shadowblade, and Pomni saw it from the beginning. She broke the bonds. She opened the cage. Shadowblade just had to be brave enough to step through. No, not Shadowblade.

Scarlet Badorman. Born a servant, remade a weapon, reborn a puppet. More powerful than she's ever been.

Scarlet raised her wings high, gold energy surging through the blades. She roared triumphant to the sky, gold energy mixing with streaks of dark mist in her maw. The ball of energy released like a firework high into the sky and exploded with the percussive force of a large bomb. Gold sparks rained down and disappeared into the night.

Scarlet felt more connected to herself than ever before. She knew who she was. She could accept what she became. No matter what name the world tried to put on her, she was Scarlet.

She took off into the night, taking a few more laps around the city to the manor. She landed as quietly as she could outside the walls, entering the gated property by Z's post.

"Have a nice flight?" Z asked, with light interest edging their voice.

Scarlet nodded and held out her front paw. Between her toes she held a smooth rock she found on the cliff she sat on to do her thinking. She wanted to give it to Z, as they were always one to sit back and think about life.

"Uh..?" Z said as they took the smooth stone.

Scarlet scratched into the earth next to Z. G-I-F-T. She sat up proudly and rumbled.

"I see. Thanks." Z held the stone in one of their smaller hands, saving it for display in their home later, and rolling with the fact that "Shadowblade" was communicating like a coherent person.

Scarlet scratched another message: J-O-I-N-?

"Yeah, sure. You can stay out here if you want. I can't tell you what to do."

Scarlet shuffled her feet excitedly and settled next to Z. They sat in silence, listening to the night.

Morning rolled in slowly. The crisp late autumn air left a light layer of frost on the grass. Scarlet and Z's large cores kept them warm, their metal frames steaming lightly. Kingr was first up to jovially wish the night insects a good rest.

"Good morning, you two." Kingr pat Scarlet on the head.

Scarlet accepted the pat. Even if he knew she was human, she would still appreciate the affection.

"Anything to report?" Kinger asked.

"Nope. Another quiet night." Z drolled.

"Probably because you had this one standing guard with you. No one would want to mess with a duo like you two. Well, I'm off to study my strategies. Do let me know if I'm needed." Kingr slid away towards the woods.

A few hours later, Caine came out with Bubble. The butler blimp set up chairs in the garden as Caine laid out small crates of bottles full of what could only be assumed at liquor. Scarlet came over, careful not to step on any of the delicate plant life and greeted him with a chuff.

"Morning! Hope last night wasn't too cold for you."

Scarlet gestured towards the barn.

"I'll talk to Z about renovations today and get the ball rolling, don't worry-"

Scarlet gripped his sleeve with her maw and pulled him along gently.

"Oh-! You want to show me something?"

In the packed dirt of the barn Scarlet scratched: S-C-A-R-L-E-T B-A-D-O-R-M-A-N

Caine's eyes widened. "SB...You remember?"

Scarlet nodded.

"Incredible....and somewhat tragic. Reliving everything. How do you feel about being called Shadowblade?"

N-I-C-K-N-A-M-E

"That's a pretty badass nickname, but I'd understand if you wouldn't be comfortable with Pomni continuing to be your rider."

F-U-N

"Heh, depends on your definition of fun. I'll have to see if I can come up with a new way of communication for you. Because of your unique construction, I'm not sure where I'd even install a voice box." Caine tapped his chin.

Scarlet shrugged. She was still getting used to the very concept of regaining her humanity, and it was already overwhelming. So many emotions and sensations and memories to process.

"But we don't have to worry about all that today. Today, is about you being fully introduced to everyone as a puppet. Not just some stray marionette."

Scarlet bumped her maw against Caine's arm. Grateful that he was so supportive.

Caine rested a hand on her face the way he always did. "You're awfully affectionate. That's a refreshing change of pace. Many puppets are adverse to touch when they first start enlightening. The new sensations are quite scary and overstimulating. Maybe your size works in your favor here. Kingr's probably the only one that could give you a proper hug."

Scarlet snuggled against him, scooping him up and sliding him down her neck to her unsaddled back.

"Woah! Haha! Playful too. Looking back on your behavior patterns, It's a wonder I didn't see this sooner."

Everyone else eventually made their way outside to enjoy the nice weather and join Caine for his announcement. He filled everyone in on who Shadowblade really was, including her real name. He raised a taste for her and immediately got to drinking. Scarlet tried to join, awkwardly picking up a bottle and pouring it over her new flesh. The earthy bitterness of the liquor made her cringe. Her whole body shuddered and some black mist involuntarily puffed out of her vents.

Ragatha was the closest she's ever been to Scarlet. She's always been too nervous of the beastial puppet. Even with everything she knew now, it was still hard for her to not be intimidated. "Hello, I'm Ragatha. Nice to meet you, properly." She moved away as Scarlet tried to interact. "Sorry, I-"

Scarlet backed off. Trying not to make things awkward. It was too late.

Gangle saved the moment by bringing out the charm formerly used to control Scarlet. "Caine had to remake it for a ritual, but it's useless now. You deserve the honor of breaking it permanently, Miss Scarlet."

Scarlet looked closely at the cursed charm. A familiar energy radiated from it, making her spikes raise defensively. She opened her mouth and her tongue grabbed the charm. With an unceremonious crack, the stone was destroyed by her shredder. Then she washed down the dusty taste with more earthy liquor.

"Do you want to destroy this one too?" Pomni held up the connection charm attached to her right hand.

Scarlet could feel Pomni's trepidation to even ask. She didn't want the connection to be lost. Neither did Scarlet. Scarlet shook her head before affectionately rubbing against Pomni's face.

Pomni pushed away the large maw. "Yeah, yeah, not in front of everyone." She grumbled.

Scarlet narrowed her eyes mischievously and brought her whole open maw down on Pomni. The harlequin fit inside up to her knees without getting too close to the inactive shredder. She picked up Pomni, holding the small puppet in her mouth smugly.

"WHAT THE FUCK!? LET GO! PUT ME DOWN!" Pomni struggled, unable to unsheathe her sword.

Scarlet's antics got a few laughs, which was enough for her. She was about to put Pomni down gently when the sound of a charging gun came from inside.

"Put. Me. Down." Pomni had transformed her mechanical arm and had it aimed down Scarlet's throat. "Or you're about to have the worst case of indigestion."

Scarlet released Pomni immediately from her sitting height, roughly twelve feet, back into her chair.

Pomni was visibly annoyed, but she always sort of looked like that.

"You okay?" Ragatha tries to hold in a laugh, failing miserably.

"I'm fine. This bitch needs a reminder who she's messing with, apparently." Pomni transformed her hand back.

Scarlet huffed challengingly. Feeling the playful edge to Pomni's words.

"Oh, you want round two? I cracked you open like a walnut the first time we met, have you forgotten that?"

Scarlet took a playful stance, snapping her maw at Pomni, but not too close.

Pomni downed her drink and unsheathed her sword. "LETS GO!" She charged Scarlet, who ran out onto the lawn where they had plenty of open space to spare.

Jax went to bother Caine again about his payment, but a small item flew at his face before he said anything. He caught it, finding it to be a skeleton key of some kind. "What's this?"

"That is a Universal Key. It's a specialized lock pick that should work on just about anything, EXCEPT my workshop door. Don't even try."

"You're no fun, but thanks anyway. I can make use of this." Jax spun the key around a few times before pocketing it.

As the day went on; spares where matched, drinks were had, questions were answered. Gangle was especially helpful, being able to see into Scarlet's core and have more visual reference to the limited yes or no answers. Scarlet was surrounded by those who would accept her as she was. Friends. Or frenemies, in Jax's case. Regardless, she felt...happy.

It was almost too much. Black tears teasing the edges of her eyes. She tried to wipe them away but only smacked herself in the face with her paw.

"Ha! Have too much to drink? Bit of a lightweight for your size." Jax teased.

Scarlet snorted at him. She had felt the slightest tingle from the crate of alcohol she consumed, she was nowhere near intoxicated. Not like Caine and Pomni, who couldn't even stand straight anymore.

"Hey! Scarlet-blade!" Pomni slurred out. "Slack jaw over here thinks you can't do a backflip! Prove him wronged!" She tried to push Caine to the side, but he grabbed her arm and they both stumbled over each other. Caine held on to a small tree to steady them both.

"I only said I've never sheen them do it!" Caine giggled back, still holding on to Pomni. "Sheeeee's capabitable, I'm sure."

Scarlet had never thought about it. Maybe she's done one once, but couldn't really recall. Willing to try, she stepped away from the others for space and crouched. She adjusted her stance and pushed hard off the ground. She rotated backwards, landing on her front paws again, but she didn't have enough momentum and he heavy tail dragged her back to the ground. She flopped down on her back with a thud that shook the grounds, earning a chorus of laughter from everyone.

Pomni laughed so hard, she forgot who she was against and held to Caine's chest with uproarious glee.

Scarlet rolled over to right herself, wanting to try again. Zooble stopped her. "You'll have to try that elsewhere or you'll shake the structural integrity out of every building on the property."

Scarlet huffed indignantly, but didn't try again. A strange feeling came through the connection as Scarlet shook the dirt from her body. Desire. She looked over to Pomni, seeing her face to face with Caine. Scarlet didn't want to interrupt their moment, but also didn't know how to shut out the connection and this felt...private.

Scarlet tried to push her embarrassment through and get Pomni's attention, but the alcohol seemed to have done its job and numbed the harlequin to the world around her. The others seemed preoccupied with conversation, paying to mind Caine and Pomni. Ruining the moment it was.

Scarlet went to the fountain in front of the manor and scooped up a mouthful of water. She stomped over to Pomni and dumped the load on both her and Caine. The force of the water knocked them both off their feet.

Pomni unleashed a string of angry, incoherent curses at Scarlet. Caine stayed down, still glowing at the very idea of Pomni being that willingly close to him. Scarlet was relieved the connection felt normal again.

"Seems a bit much." Ragatha commented.

Scarlet nodded. It was much, but MUCH was what was often needed when dealing with Pomni.

With the early setting sun bringing colder air again, the soaked duo retreated inside. They were followed gradually by the others. Kingr wished Scarlet a goodnight and went on his humble abode. Z went to their typical sentry post.

Scarlet nodded a goodnight to Z and went to her barn. With the door closed, she felt cozy and safe. Caine may have felt bad about leaving her in the dirt, but she found it rather comfortable. A few digging scratches to upturn it a bit, few circled paces and she's curled up in a tight ball. Comfy.

While her face wasn't quite capable of smiling, she was certainly smiling on the inside. To be found by this rag tag group of puppets and welcomed by them made her feel so very lucky. Pomni broke her bonds, Caine gave her wings, Kingr showed her there's beauty in all things, Ragatha helped her discover her past, Jax saved her life at great risk to his own, Gangle told her story, and Zooble showed her subtle respect in silence.

One more tear was shed that night. This one she let flow. She has not just found friends...but family.

Far away, deep in the heart of the City of Power, machines hummed and hiss. The active factory thrummed with red energy, powered by the one rolling a large D.I.E in his fingers. A crystal was being shaped before him, cut to his specifications.

The Patriarch flipped through the journal pages idly. The cypher was far too easy to crack. Humans were never as clever as they made themselves out to be. Especially those as arrogant as this self proclaimed "Master". How laughable.

He snapped the journal shut as the crystal cutter completed. The bright red crystal stood nine in feet in height and nearly as around. It was ready for implantation. He held the D.I.E against the crystal and surged his energy into it. Flames billowed from his hand, melting the crystal as he forced the D.I.E inside.

He could feel the soul in his hand crying out in agony. Good. Pain was necessary for this to work. He pushed the D.I.E into the center, liquified crystal burning his arm and suit. Once it was in place, the Patriarch pulled his arm free quickly. The imbued energy resolidified the crystal, sealing the D.I.E inside.

The Patriarch shook his hand lightly, shards of crystal rained down from his ruined sleeve. He turned to the mostly constructed, gargantuan beast hanging from thick chains. "Almost ready."

~~~

To be continued...

#angst #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc caine #tadc pomni #tadc fanfiction #tadc showtime #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc au #tadc kinger #tadc zooble #tadc gangle #tadc harlequin au #harlequin au #harlequin #oc #unseen

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succubusdaydream · 11 months ago

Text

By The Grace of The Moon || Astarion x Werewolf!Selunite!Reader

Masterlist || Words: 2865

Started on 10/14/23- Finished on 1/6/24

AN: Dialogue later on may seem a bit ooc, as well as characters themselves. I had to look up and go back through dialogue to get lines right. I am also trying to keep the reader gender neutral and I will be referring to them as Tav later on. Enjoy my second writing and my first BG3 fic, more is defiantly on it's way. This is also only the FIRST part. I wrote more than I thought I would so I've decided to split them into parts. I'm writing more onto the second part so I'll try to have it up soon <3

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Why would your goddess do this to you? Had you done something to anger your Silver Lady? No. You worshipped her beneath every beautiful moon she would raise. The twinkling of her stars were music to your ears. So why. Why did your heart stop when you met his piercing red eyes? Why did you get so scared when he would get injured? And why did you seek and crave his presence? A vampire. Your natural enemy.

You had been cursed with Lycanthropy from a young age. Your parents had gone to any cleric or healer they could find. But none could help you condition. So they turned to Selune. Goddess of the moon. The very thing you would stare at every night. Waiting. Waiting to turn into a beast once its full beauty would light up the village you lived in. They started praying to her, crying out for help. And help she did.

Your goddess sent down a light. It helped control you condition, keeping your beast from rampaging every month. You still had your enhanced abilities. Sight, smell, hearing, agility. And with research, your parents helped you though your young years with the continued worship of Selune.

With that research, came a longing. Every young child dreams of love. And with your sickness, your Goddess promised you a love. A soulmate. One every Lycan is blessed with. You would dream of them every night as a child. How much they would love you, and you them. How you wedding would be like that of a fairytale read to little ones before bed. A large white dress, a beautiful train and the most hypnotizing of melodies playing as you danced the night away.

But those dreams were halted that night. The night the Illithids appeared over your village. And you were forced to wake up. The tadpole that now squirmed in your head made you powers unpredictable. You feared how following nights would be.

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You had awoken on a beach, surrounded by the crashed ship that once held you prisoner. You couldn’t recall everything that happened, but you do remember fighting devils and imps with a Githyanki. ‘Lae’zel’, you recalled. You didn’t see her around anywhere, but also no body. ‘Hopefully she’s alive, she was strong so I doubt she got taken out by anything close by.’

Not too far in front of you lied a woman. Long dark hair held by chains, a dark circlet decorating her forehead. Slowly approaching, you could both hear her breath and see her chest heaving. In her hand was an oddly shaped…thing. Choosing to ignore is in favor of her wellbeing, you reached forward. Grasping her shoulders and shaking her awake.

“Wha- I’m alive? You’re alive.” Helping her to her feet, she looked around at the wreck that surrounded you. “How is this possible.”

“I’m not sure. Are you hurt? I don’t remember seeing you on the ship.” The Githyanki was the only person you came across. You had assumed there were others, but with the ship crashing and buring, you were in a bit of a rush to escape.

“Not that I know of. I remember being stuck in that pod. I think I saw you running away with another person. And then the ship crashed.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think to check for others. I wouldn’t have tried to help you.” You wrung your fingers together and looked down the beach, examining the path that stretched on. “What now?”

“I suppose we find a healer. What ever those monsters put into out heads can’t be good.”

After making sure neither of you were injured and making proper introductions, learning her name was Shadowheart, you set forward and came across three of the brain creatures you had seen wandering the ship. They weren’t too tough to handle, but after getting rid of them your hearing picked up a static to your right.

It was coming from a rune. An out of control looking rune, it’s magic swirling violently. As you reach out to touch the rune, a hand suddenly emerge from it and a voice immediately follows. “A hand? Anyone?” It was a male’s voice. Your senses hadn’t alerted you to any danger, so you reach to intertwine your hand with his, you other hand on his wrist.

And with a strong pull, a body dawned in purple robes flew out from it. You stood and brushed your clothes off as he spoke his thanks. “Hello. I’m Gale, of Waterdeep.” He reaches forward to shake your hand. “Apologies, I’m normally better at these sorts of things.”

“At introductions?” You shook is hand in return, a smirk passing your lips as you tried to lightly joke with him. It seemed to work, as he let out a small chuckle.

“At magic. Say, but I know you, don’t I? I saw you, upon the nautilloid.” Gods, just how many people did you run past? With all the chaos happening you suppose your senses couldn’t keep up. But you didn’t realize just how many people were stuck in pods on the same ship.

“I was, I guess I missed more people than I thought, had I seen you I assure you I would have done my best to help.” You looked him over for injuries but didn’t catch any scents of blood.

“No worries. But I suppose it’s safe to say you were a victim too. On the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region?” He tapped the side of his head, right next to his eye no doubt referring to the worm that now infected your brain.

“I suppose that’s one way to put it. Not the most pleasant experience I’ve dealt with in my life.” You crossed your arms and tilted your head, able to tell he wasn’t done talking yet.

“Yes well, no use sugar coating it. This parasite we carry, are you aware that after a few days of extrusion gestation, it will turn us into mindflayers?” His pitched was raised in a slight panic. Understandable, you had a worm in your brain that’s going to turn you into tentacle monsters within a certain number of very painful days. “You don’t happen to be a cleric by any chance, do you?”

It was at this point that Shadowheart spoke up from behind you. “It seems you know enough about out condition to know that this is far beyond a cleric’s skill.”

“Most, but I hope to be in the presence of the few who are able to help. You don’t happen to be one of them?” He eyed between you two.

“No, I can treat most injuries and sicknesses, but I am no cleric.” You weren’t wrong. While you worshipped Selune and did almost everything in her name, you were not a cleric. More of a hunter who was able to make remedies and teas with herbs that you would scavenge for.

“Well then, we’re most going to need a healer, and quite soon too. How about we lend each other a helping hand once more and look for one together?” He gestures between himself and you, raising a brow in anticipation. And with a shrug, Gale of Waterdeep was following your two man, now three man, party as you turned back to the direction you came from.

Although, as you turned, a strong gust of wind brought you a wonderful smell. That of Rosemary, bergamot, and…brandy? Either way, it made you heart flutter and your feet move faster. You swiftly walked passed the creatures you had taken out, you thoughts running as the scent got stronger.

‘Is this it? This sweet scent, my aching and racing heart all point to it. My mate. They smell amazing. Nothing has smelt like this to me before. Selune, my lady of silver, if you have blessed with my mate after this tragedy I thank you.’

Rounding over a small hill, you saw the source of the scent. A white-haired elf dressed in elegant purple clothing. Your body froze at the sight of him. It looked as if the heavens shown behind him as he turned to beckon you closer. And when he spoke, he sounded like an angel singing praise. “Hurry! I’ve cornered one of those brain things. You can kill it, can’t you? Like you killed the others?”

Snapping back to reality, you cleared your throat and nearly jumped at the chance to protect him. “Easily, step back.” You stepped forward, a slight pungent smell hit your nose. A boar shot out of the bushes as you jumped, the noise startling you. And from the corner of you eye, you noticed a glint. Spinning around you came face to face with your mate, holding a knife up at you in a defensive position.

“I saw you on the ship, strutting about while I was trapped in that pod!” His knife raised higher as you shuffled away, holding your hands up in defense. “What did you and those tentacled freaks do to me?” His voice was low as his red eyes glared into yours.

“No! I was taken to! I had nothing to do with them.”

“I’m not an idiot! I saw-agh!” He cried out as your minds merged. You were looking through his eyes and out to dark street. Lurking as people passed. But before you could look further, the image faded. “What was that? What’s going on?”

You breath heaved as you looked deeper into his eyes, a small smile appearing as his knife lowered. “I-I don’t know, but something connected us.” Something other than my goddess.

“It’s those monsters. Whatever they did you us caused that link. They took you too. I saw it.” He sighed and put away his weapon. “Ands to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards. Apologies.” His voice truly was like music.

“Apology accepted. I might have done the same if the roles were reversed.” I wouldn’t.

“Ah~ A kindred spirit. My name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me.” Astarion? Even his name is angelic. No wonder it’s taken so long for you to meet him. Your village was located a few days away from the big city. You never made trips there, only your father and hunting parties would make the travel. Selling crops, clothing and any other good your village made.

“From the city? I lived quite a ways away. I was taken while hunting. I’m not sure how long it’s been.” It wasn’t entirely wrong. You were hunting but not the type people would assume. It was late when you were snatched. A beautiful moon guided your path as you ran after a deer, your paws silently hitting the ground as your muzzle snapped for its tail.

“Oh? A hunter? That could be useful. So, do you know anything about these worms?” He placed his hands on his hips and raised a brow.

“Yes. Unfortunately, they’ll turn us into mind flayers.” As if I couldn’t become more of a beast. Your thoughts though were swiftly cut by his scoff of disbelief.

“Turn us into-ha…haha! Of course it’ll turn me into a monster. What else did I expect?” His words trailed off as he looked to the dirt road beneath you. “Although…it hasn’t happened yet. If we find an expert, someone that can control these things- there still might be time.” He raised his hand to his chin in thought.

If we find someone? He wanted to travel together? With you? “Y-you could come along with us. Our odds are better if we travel together.” Gods, do I sound desperate? Please take my offer.

His eyes met yours again as a smirk formed on his face. “You know, I was ready to go this alone, but…maybe sticking with you isn’t such a bad idea.” Yes! A perfect idea. “You seem like a useful person to know.” His words seemed like they held something behind them, but you didn’t much care. As long as your mate followed. “Alright! I accept, lead on.”

You could barely suppress the smile that tried to cross your face. “Ahem, alright. Let’s move then.” You cleared your throat and finally broke eye contact, looking further down the road and heading that direction. “I hear something ahead, we’ll start there.” As you walked passed him, his scent filled your nose once more. He truly did smell heavenly. I’ll keep him safe.

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Further down the trail, you had encountered a group of refugees begging at a gate. At the top were tieflings, refusing to open until their supposed leader showed up, demanding the gates be open as a pack of goblins appeared to attack. It didn’t take long for you to help defeat them and you quickly slipped through the gate with everyone, making sure your group was okay and mostly uninjured.

You found yourselves in a Druid’s Grove. Although with their issues, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last. It was to be closed off soon and everyone but the druids themselves were to be kicked out. After communing with the leader of the tieflings, you had decided your day had been busy enough and had led your group to a clear spot deeper into the grove.

You had all set up tents around a fire and laid out bedrolls for when you were all ready to sleep. As you finished setting out supplies and changing out of you day clothes, your gaze drifted over to your silver haired mate. He sat outside his tent, a thick book in his hands and his eyes lazily drifting over its contents. You quickly took a deep breath, muttering a quick ‘you got this’ before making your way over to his figure.

Hearing your approach, he glanced up. “Yes?” Ouch, not the greeting I was hoping for. Did he not feel the connection you goddess had blessed you with? Even non-Lycans were rumored to feel something.

You let out an embarrassing laugh and cleared your throat. “I uh- I was just wanting to check on you. What do you think about our journey so far?” You could tell me anything and I’d listen, please just talk to me.

“Well, not much has happened. We’re in a grove that’s close to impending doom and we have worms in our brain. Pretty shit journey so far, wouldn’t you say.” Ok, so he’s not having a very good time right now, but who would? Defiantly not you.

“That’s true. I’m sure we can find a healer here, they’re druids after all. Perhaps we’ll be rewarded if we help out with their little issue.” You let out a short chuckle but quickly closed you lips as a sneer appeared on his.

“Help out? It’s not our issue. I say we find a healer and move on. No need to get caught up in fights that aren’t ours.” Okay, a little self-centered but it’s not the first time I’ve dealt with someone like him. And he’s pretty, so it’s ok.

“You don’t think we, should help out? Even for a reward?” He shook his head, and stood, setting his book down to give you his full attention.

“The reward better be big if we stick around to help a little war. Either way, I still don’t like it.” His eyes met yours. “Was there anything else?” Let’s turn to other matters.

“Uuuhh, tell me a bit about yourself. It’s good to get to know each other if we’ll be traveling closely. What did you use to do in the city? I’ve never been so I want to know all about it.” I want to know all about you.

He scoffed. “Oh what’s to tell? I’m a magistrate back in the city, it’s all rather tedious.” A magistrate? I should have guessed he was in a position of high power; his clothes look like it.

“A magistrate? That sounds cool. What’s the city like?” Don’t stop talking. I still want to know more about you.

You couldn’t quite tell, but his eyes seemed to hold that of annoyance. You’re lucky that your ears and tails weren’t visible unless you were shifted. If they were, your laid-back ears and tucked tail would give away your worry to this. That’s possibly the last thing that you want right now, to upset your mate and annoy him.

“Depends on the area I suppose. The main upper city is quite busy. Especially at night, people out and about, drinking and…well the whole city is busy. I don’t normally get out much though.” His sentence trailed off, a smirk crossing his face before it quickly vanished. “Now was there something else you wanted to talk about.”

“Oh, umm, no. No I suppose that’s really it. Goodnight, Astarion, sleep well. I’ll be keeping watch so, you don’t have to worry about anything attacking.” I would gladly give up any sleep to make sure you’re protected.

“Why thank you, Darling. I’ll surely sleep better knowing you’re watching.” And with his words, you would spend the night walking the perimeter of your camp with your heart racing and thoughts spinning out of control.

---

Masterlist || Part 2

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 x tav #tav reader

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bitumz · 5 months ago

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Title: A withered Rose still has its thorns

Pairing: Cooper Howard / Lucy MacLean

Word count: 4k+

Rated: T [angst, depictions of past violence, hurt/comfort, mentions of death and loss, happy ending]

A/N: this was written for the incredible @valeriarts for this beautiful fanart they made me, and was heavily inspired by this insane Beauty and the Beast Ghoulcy Fanart they entered into the Ghoulcy Atomic Blast Event! As such, this responding work is absolutely riddled with BatB references, but is lovingly set in the Fallout canon world because I am an absolute goon for the old music and wasteland setting. A tale as old as time... Ao3 link

~~~~~

One year has passed since Lucy pulled the trigger on her own decayed mother, withered away and rotted from the inside out by the inevitable cruelty of the wasteland. A necessary evil she still tries to console herself with on such a gruesome anniversary, though these days the grizzly voice chiding her in her mind doesn’t sound like her own anymore. And Lucy thinks she's starting to realize exactly how decay feels.

One year of failed leads. Shattered expectations. The growing pains of being remade into a woman more familiar than she should be, even well beyond the reflection of a mirror.

The old shopping center she and Cooper find themselves in that evening is almost painfully similar to the Super Duper Mart, old clothing and clocks, and half burnt candles and varying arrays of other decorative knick-knacks scattered about like hastily flung debris across the rotting floors. But unlike the mart, high walls divided large sections of the space, reminding her even harsher of the vault rooms back home, centered just so by a long, splaying hallway that seemed to go on for miles into the shadowed corridor. An old mall Cooper had called it, but to Lucy that meant nothing.

She'd done what she could to keep her distance from him that day, him never being one to appreciate her foul moods, and instead of calling out the blood curdling hypocrisy of that whole idea (and the inevitable fight that would follow), she bit her tongue and did her best to sulk alone, in only the company of a few blessedly silent clothing displays and dusty bedroom furniture.

One of the former caught Lucy’s attention more than the others, a headless mannequin donned in a flowing silk gown, royal blue cut through the middle with a bright yellow sash that drew in the curves of the waist and cascaded floor length at the rear with the rest of the flowing hemline to trail like a river of molten gold across the moldy tile.

Her mother had always disliked her in dresses. And Lucy can't help but remember the hazy bits and pieces of her fifth birthday. Of her father presenting her with a beautifully boxed up gift. Her mother's disbelieving scowl over at the man as Lucy held the soft floral material up against her chest and beamed at her own reflection in the vault bathroom mirror. They way her father twirled her around the room in it for many a birthday after that, with only Norm, a few aging Cooper Howard movie posters, and blinding fluorescents overhead as audience, pride already flashing even brighter in her father’s eyes as every year she grew more and more into the perfect daughter she was expected to be. And though Lucy had been too young to consider yet just where that gift could have come from, those memories now scathed in the shadows, somewhere deep beneath her bones like a bustling city of thousands of people being blown to nothing more than ruin and ash.

And at this point, after fighting through all the many foul factions of the wasteland for just over a year and searching for a sense of fairness and freedom for so long before, she was so so far beyond sick of monsters masquerading as man.

It was why slipping from the confines of her vaultsuit and stepping into the rolling blue and gold layers of silk felt something like lying. Like putting on that ill-fitting wedding dress again and continuing to do as she was told. Adding her name to the list and filling the role set upon her from the very moment she came out screaming like a wild beast into her mother's arms and a carefully crafted existence.

She tugged her own suit up the slender plastic hips of the mannequin in trade. Zipped it securely closed with the final brush of her hands tenderly across the shoulders.

The worn leather slacked too big around the petite figure, and Lucy felt her own muscles clench the slightest bit in her newly exposed chest and upper arms. Her time away from the vault had made her only stronger. She could feel it in the easing of their long days trudging through the sand and restless nights with Cooper beneath the stars. In his harsh lessons and even harsher truths. But looking back at her mother’s last little hand-me-down gift as it sat wrong on the headless figure before her made her feel a bit like a child again; lost and alone in a world that was still so very much too big.

So she did just as she would when she was little. Turned the oldies station on low on her Pip Boy. Sat cross legged upon the cold dingy floor. Sought out her mother’s advice.

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do here.” Lucy said, eyes falling to her mismatched fingers in her lap. She curled them loose into the soft pile of golden fabric. “I wasn’t so sure I was going to make it through mourning you the first time around…” she admitted soft, swallowing at the pain rising heavy in her throat. “But this… now… knowing everything I do… I- I understand why you left. And I’m sorry I couldn’t help sooner… I’m so sorry…” And Lucy had long run out of water to waste on tears so she only clenched her fists tighter over her thighs. Waited quietly for a reassurance that would never come again, receiving only silence in answer apart from the lilting voice of Skeeter Davis softly reminding her from her wrist that the end of the world had already long since passed.

Lucy could only blame her time above for being able to sense him well before she heard Cooper’s spurs clanging softly up the hall. And had it been even just a few months ago, she would have moved. Rose from the ground and stuck on a fake sunshine smile to avoid his prodding. Stood tall and still in the shadows like a predator in wait. But if he was going to continue to track her down every time she sought out solace, he was going to get what he got. Real and raw and just so very tired.

“There ain’t shit for supplies,” his rumbling voice started before rounding the corner, “but I did find somethin’ interestin’ you may wanna have a look at wh…” Cooper stilled like the dead in the shattered frame of the once glass door. Rendered entirely silent, though she could feel the burn of his eyes across her newly bared arms, the curves of her shoulders, her dark hair falling loose and wild down her back. “What the fuck are you doin’?” He finally managed, sounding much farther away than he actually stood.

“Oh you know, just talking to my mom.” Lucy spoke flat to the mannequin, unmoving. “You’re interrupting.” She added in dismissal after a long dead-silent moment, but she only heard his boots close in closer behind her.��

So she held her breath and waited for the snide response to drawl from his lips. Something like ‘radaway’s losin’ its touch huh?’ she imagined first, or ‘Rose musta not took all the crazy with her when she left that fuckin’ vault...’

But as the pair of taunts grew hotter in her temples, nothing of the sort actually came from him... Which was odd enough in itself to make her finally look back over her shoulder.

What she found was a world weary man who looked as lost as she felt. The darkness of the decaying building clinging to the protective cloak of his duster like a long drawn curse that was pained to let go. He carried the weight of his own deep in the lines of his scalded face, wearing his own many anniversaries of suffering in scattered jagged scars, jaw tense as if he fought not to set free a rising snarl at the sight before him, browline drawn beneath the shadow of his hat like she’d spoken a foreign language he couldn’t quite grasp.

He eyed her hallowed vaultsuit as if personally affronted… Looked back down right at her, dark eyes sparking with something near that impenetrable mask of anger he so easily slipped on as they trailed slow down across the gathered yellow silk she fidgeted with at her waist, to the elegant tendrils of blue haloing in a wide puddle around her on the floor, shielding nearly as much of her body as the suit had, but still leaving her feeling so incredibly exposed to his studiously searching eyes.

“What is it?” Lucy asked after a moment, unable to take the scrutiny any longer, heart rate rising as she shifted where she sat.

And Cooper blinked as if hearing her for the first. “What’s with the getup?”

Lucy forced the breath from her nose, long and heavy. Tugged a bit of the fabric up in a false curtsy. “Oh this old thing?” She tried to tease but fell flat. “I've never had a dress of my own, you know? Always something borrowed… and Mom used to say blue was my color.” Lucy smoothed the silk back down over her hips, missing the way the claim struck Cooper’s expression like the hail Mary of a well aimed brick. “My eyes, I guess.” She shrugged away.

“No.” Cooper disagreed low after a long beat. “It ain't your eyes.” Then he took the two last steps to stand near her side. Reached down a hand. “C’mon I wanna show you somethin’.” And for a moment Lucy sat unmoving, glancing away from Cooper’s gloved offering up to the plastic shell of her mother one last time. “She ain't goin’ anywhere.” Cooper promised soft after a while of watching her struggle, in a way Lucy now knew that only he had every right to vow. And it's what finally drew her hand out slowly into his.

“Alright,” she breathed. And she rose.

—

The shop Cooper led her into was stacked floor to ceiling with disheveled shelves of books. Old wooden tables and chairs lined the front walls. Rows of cabinets had once cut lines through the center, now tipped and scattered by previous scavengers who must not have appreciated the incredibility of the rare bounty before her. But Lucy, however, was already mentally sorting through the contents of her pack and deciding what could be left behind to make more space.

It was the candlelight that eventually distracted her from the task. Lit aglow and sparsely set across the floor and on a few of the sturdier looking bookshelves all around the room, burning just bright enough to clear the murky darkness from the space…and it was the consideration of such a thing that emptied her chest, had Lucy steepling her hands over her mouth and gaping wide eyed all around her at the beautiful sight, the sheer number of books alone putting the vault’s ample collection to shame. But it was the man stood behind her in the darkened doorway that stopped her eyes. Silhouette framed in the soft glow of fire, features hidden almost entirely from view, but like the constant pull of the moon on the tide she could feel the weight of every ounce of his attention on only her.

“Cooper,” Lucy called low, letting her hands fall slow to her sides. “This is incredible. I've never seen so many books in my life.”

And he ambled forward at his name like a bloodbug drawn to the life pumping quick through her veins, sharp features softened by the warm glow.

“Really?” He drawled in that way that preambled the rudeness she'd so long been awaiting. Downplaying the situation every time it got too close to - something. And he was never one to disappoint. “I thought all that Vault Tec propaganda down there would at least rival a two bit bookshop.”

Lucy raised her eyes and turned away. Took another look about the room. Made her way to the closest shelf of books and let her fingertips brush lovingly across the dusted spines. Stacked a few aside that she had every intention of not leaving without.

“It wasn't just propaganda,” Lucy informed, his jab unable to reach her properly through the soft flickering of flame. “Vault distributed media was delegated and traded by the overseers.” She sought him out again with the turn of her neck. “And as you know, ours was particularly fond of fairytales and cowboys. Villeneuve and Wister. That sort of thing. Not to mention the movies…” her smile was mean, a brazen curve of her lips.

And Cooper said nothing in riposte, instead simply closing the space between them with slow, lazy steps. Rested a hand against the shelf on either side of her head as she turned to face him, closing in and casting his shadow across her in a way that once would have made her feel small.

Lucy only raised her chin, held his eyes above with the fire flickering hot in her own.

“Is that really what you wanna be doin’ today?” He asked her, a near growl as it rolled so close from his chest. “Defendin’ your daddy?”

And the reminder twisted in her ribs like a spike, aimed and true; memories of laughter and life and being twirled around in loving arms slowly, agonizingly morphing into something more fowl in her gut like her father's guiltless eyes as he'd finally confessed aloud his many many sins down the barrel of a gun… Her mother's meatless corpse sagging gaunt in a chair nearby…

“Dance with me.” Lucy blinked, only truly registering the words as they settled skewed into her own ears. The violins dipped and drew out the start of Billie Holiday's, Crazy He Calls Me from her Pip Boy between them like a taunt and there was no better title for the way Cooper’s sharp eyes searched her face.

“Do what now?”

“Dance with me.” Lucy repeated, just as unshaken. “You're right.” She nodded in truce. “I'd rather make new memories today than dwell on the old ones and my options are you or the mannequin.”

Cooper gauged her expression from mere inches above. Looked as if he awaited the splintering of her sanity beneath his glare. For the flinching call of her bluff as he raised his chin and thinned his eyes in a move she’d watched him use on countless others to sweeten a deal or seal a sentence. But Lucy only popped open the latch of her Pip Boy. Sat it nearby on the shelf. Held her hands out to him palms up in the dwindling space between them…

And Cooper took a step back and away. Squared his shoulders as if she had thrown a fist instead of anything near the beginnings of a dance.

“Mannequin would suit better.” He said in faint protest, stilling only a moment longer to meet her unyielding eyes before sighing, shrugging his duster from his shoulders and draping it over the back of a nearby chair. Pulling his gloves off and dropping them unceremoniously into the splintering seat.

And Lucy felt an altogether new sort of apprehension as he neared this time, sturdy arms straining against the worn fabric of his rarely seen sun-bleached undershirt. His bandolier of hastily crafted bullets glistened like sharp teeth across the visible rise and fall of his chest. He held a single bared hand out to her in offering, allowing her to take either that last fateful step forward or a silent final out…

And the thrill of it all was the best distraction she could ever ask for.

The fine hairs at the back of her neck rose in warning as she took this newest challenge in stride, just as she had the many before. “I don’t doubt it.” Lucy returned, resting a ruined-fingered hand over the solid curve of his shoulder. Cooper slipped her left into his and she couldn’t help but stare at that way her own something borrowed still looked pale and small against the rest of Cooper’s hand, wrapping warm and rough around her own. His other burned like a brand against her waist just as Billie sang of her own willingness to walk through fire and with it they were moving.

Cooper was a startlingly natural lead, sure in step and direction, guiding her along in soft curves of motion as if on instinct alone, whereas she stepped between his boots in thought absorbed angles, and it was a pre-war skill Lucy would not have imagined he cared to retain until that very moment. He’d always spoken so little of that time of his life, apart from Janey. And even if they weren’t spending an evening attempting to forget, she at very least knew better than to outright ask why.

The thought brought her foot down hard on his for what she guessed was the second or third time judging by his growl.

“That supposed to be a two step?” Cooper rumbled over her instead. “‘Cause you’re movin’ like a goddamn sheet of plywood down there.”

And Lucy laughed a breathy thing at the very real exasperation in his tone.

“I’m distracted is all.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, so close and scalding in the candlelight. Reminding her even more of the last time she’d seen him display such a talent. The same way her father had taught her so many years ago… and she just couldn't help herself. “I remember this from the scene right after you killed Joey… Where you went back to town and danced with the widow in -”

“Deadhorse ya,” Cooper scathed in answer, spinning her silent in an almost violent twirl out to arms reach before snapping her back, her spine pressing flush against the buttons lining down his vest so that the “don’t start,” was hissed directly into her ear. It effectively scattered her thoughts and sent gooseflesh rising down the exposed skin of her arms for a much different reason than she knew was intended. But then he stilled them. Kept a forearm wrapped firm across the front of her waist. “Kick them boots off so you don’t take my fuckin’ toes too.” He nodded down over her shoulder, the brim of his hat brushing against her scattered hair.

And she continued to follow his lead, shaking off one and then the other. Turned around again with minimal restraint as he took notice of her intention to face him once more. Lucy filled her lungs with the faint scent of old leather and smoke as his coarse fingers dragged slow patterns across the soft silk gathered at her hips. This time she brought both hands up to his shoulders. Felt his own slide home in a near perfect fit into the soft curves beneath her ribs.

Then they were moving again, easier, a more natural sway that brought him the slightest bit closer. Allowed her to truly see his features painted warm beneath his hat in the firelight. Those most others would deem ugly, the proof heard often enough in wretched slurs and slithered curses from near every small bit of civilization they passed. But here in the safety of their solitude, the candles flickered deep against the rugged hollows of his face and brought somehow more life to his hazel eyes. And though they had always been so incredible to her, those eyes, something about the way the glow sparked in them now, subdued and scorching back at her in equal measure, was almost another distraction worthy of misstep.

And she’d been doing so well until her eyes dropped to the side. Focused on the scattered splotches across his shoulders that proved his threadbare shirt had once been blue…

The music built and curled around them unimpeded by the realization, trumpets joining in with the strings to round out the repeated claims of being insane for all a number of reasons and Lucy couldn’t help but look down at her own feet again, strained and self deprecating as she focused on not stepping down onto his with the way her heart sped and cheeks flushed. His hands flexed at her waist.

“Relax.” Cooper bid low, undoubtedly sensing her struggle in her missteps and the growing tension of her muscles. “I ain’t in the mood for sparrin’ today and my drawin’ hand’s otherwise occupied, so you’re only fightin’ ya self.”

The upward curve of his bowed lips and drawl of his words spoke only truths, something almost sad touching his eyes, and Lucy found trusting in him still came all too easy. She watched as the rise of his browline painted a told ya so look across his face while she focused only on her own breaths and the warmth of his tender hold about her waist, her movements growing more and more fluid between those very same hands that she’d seen reap death and destruction with ease for just over a year now in search of her father and the answers they were owed. Coming up just short on near every lead and tumbling almost as violently into each other's arms in one way or another so often now that it seemed only necessary for survival.

“Perceptive.” She said finally.

But this was something else… It was just so…

It was simply different, Lucy decided, rising up onto her bare toes to press her lips against Cooper’s just because she wanted to. Taking unapologetically in a way that he had been forcefully tearing into her from the beginning. And she softly parted her lips over his unmoving ones. Waited for the beast to surface and rear its fangs or draw its claws. To push her away with a shove or back her forcefully against the nearest surface in a deliciously dizzying coin toss of chance. Because, yes the beast was in there somewhere she knew well enough, but it was Cooper who had pulled her up from the floor of her vigil. Cooper who’d lit the candles that warmed the air around them; of a bookshop of all places. Cooper who still distracted her from her woes now in dance…

And it was Cooper who kissed her back. Took her face into the sanctity of his hands to tilt and deepen it, his lips a hot brand across her own as he held her steady and tasted her slow in languid shallow swipes of his tongue along her lower lip. He parted from her just long enough for Lucy to draw a greedy breath from the shared air between them. Then he kissed her again, another sweet short press of his mouth over hers before he whispered “I gotcha somethin’ else,” near voiceless into the corner of her moony grin.

Then he leaned back just enough to meet her eyes, his own expression sobering like he stood on the precipice of some great divide, and Lucy dared him to jump with the slight tilt of her head in question.

Then he pulled out a drooping flower from the pocket of his slacks. A sun-bleached plastic rose that must have once been red before the end of the world and the crushing hands of time; petals welting and half melted... And her heart did a funny painful pair of skips in her chest at the sight of it held out to her in his own repeatedly scarred and sewn together hand.

“What? It ain't enchanted or some shit.” Cooper said harsh, shifting an inch on his own two feet. A first misstep since they started this new dance. “I just know what it's like to not have a grave to mourn is all.” He tried again. “Don’t read too much into it.”

And what a feint it was to reach for in a room set aglow, filled to the brim with warmth and music; bound leather and parchment...

Lucy’s smile was all straight white teeth.

“Of course not,” she succumbed, taking the rose from him carefully and tucking the stem safely away into the sash of her dress so that her hands were free to reach back out for what she really wanted. “I never really liked reading anyway,” she soothed, wrapping her wrists loose about the back of his neck and looking past him at a few new titles that would be soon added to her pile. “Though my bag has been feeling awful light lately.”

And Cooper chuckled soft, a deep rumble from his throat.

“Fuck the books,” he said, breath ghosting warm against the sensitive skin at the side of her neck. Then his hands slid heavy through the silk pooled low at her back, drew her in close against his chest. “Pack the dress.”

And for a long long while they danced together and forgot.

#ghoulcy #vaultghoul #fallout #beauty and the beast crossover #ghoulcy atomic blast event #fallout fanfic #thou shalt be sidetracked #cooper howard #lucy maclean #cooper x lucy #fallout tv series

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alottiegoingon · 5 months ago

Text

I'M ONLY SEVENTEEN, I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING

alicent hightower x fem!reader

summary: your average homoerotic friendship.

warnings: brief fluff, comphet, princess!reader, short angsty blurb, not proofread.

as you step down from syrax, the first person your eyes find is lady alicent. though the courtyard is filled with guards, maids, helpers, and officials busy with their tasks, it is alicent hightower who holds your gaze.

"syrax is growing quickly," alicent notes as you approach, a playful smirk dancing on her lips as she looks down from the carriage. "she'll soon be as large as caraxes."

"that's almost big enough for two riders," you jest, well aware of alicent's hesitation to get anywhere near the golden beast. you can't fault her for fearing such a massive creature, but her denials are always amusing.

"i believe I'm quite content as a spectator, thank you," alicent responds, ending any hopes of her flying with you on syrax. her words, however, still manage to elicit a grin from both of you as you enter the carriage.

in the garden, your head was resting on alicent's lap, your hair cascading over her dress as she held a heavy tome in her hands. you were taking the risk of being crushed right on the face, but honestly didn't care about it.

"are you excited to be wed one day?" you ask out of the blue, fidgeting with your fingers on your stomach, watching alicent's lips purse and her shoulders rise in a slight shrug.

"i suppose i am. it's quite romantic. what about you?"

but she didn't have to ask you that to know your answer. like a mantra you repeated to yourself and everyone else around you, you weren't exactly interested in becoming someone's wife. well, a man's wife.

"you already know my answer," you clear your throat, briefly looking away from alicent to watch how entertained your hands were. it was painful to look up in that position, anyway. you definitely weren't avoiding her while talking about such feelings.

alicent knew you too well, and it wasn't easy to hide from her. she wanted to touch your chin and make you face her again, but she didn't. she contained herself and listened to you, already anticipating your words.

"do you ever think about how wonderful it would be if everyone was allowed to wed their dearest friends? people they truly love instead of marrying for wealth and alliances?" but alicent didn't expect that, and her heartbeat picked up as she heard you. with a meaning behind it or not, her muscles tensed.

"i do think that would be nice," she replied after a few seconds, what felt like hours in complete silence to you. "and a great way to flee from your position as well."

"i assume fleeing on dragonback is always an option," your gaze finally rises, shyly meeting alicent's. "i could wait until syrax is big enough for two."

"oh, and you plan to bring me into this mess with you?" alicent asked, her casual playful tone returning along with her smirk. she tried to sound surprised, but the idea of exploring the world and leaving king's landing wasn't a secret of yours.

"naturally," a faint chuckle escaped your lips. "syrax would be nice. she knows much about you," you tease her, observing her smile widen and eyes dart across your face for a bit too long.

"you talk to your dragon about me?" her eyebrows wriggled and she could not hide a dazzling smile begging to appear, intoxicated with the idea of her name leaving your mouth. "only good things, i hope."

matching her mischievousness, you smile back, slowly getting up from alicent's lap to sit by her side, your hands touching the grass as your back rested against the tree. "not exactly. i told syrax that you are a frightened little girl, and terrible at dancing."

alicent's eyes widened and she gasped, offended at your words. "i am not! you just haven't been blessed with the opportunity to witness my grace!" she raised a hand to her chest and scoffed, trying to hold her serious expression for a moment longer but failed.

"and i am not a frightened little girl."

"i'm sure you wouldn't mind flying with us, then," and she rolls her eyes, silently reprimanding you but never giving up on a sweet casual smirk.

"and i'm sure you wouldn't scare me too much or make me hold onto you for my dear life?" her brow arches and a few strands of hair cover her face as the wind lingers around the two of you.

"i wouldn't bet on that."

you didn't know how or when the topic changed and grew more intense, making even the last inch of your body tense up. perhaps it was when you let it slip that you'd happily run away and leave everything behind in a blink of an eye. all you needed was a dragon and her.

"me?" she asked quietly, hardly believing it. "you don't need anything else? just... me?"

"just you," you affirm, gently nodding. it was as simple as that. scared of where this could possibly lead to, you get up. it was indeed getting late, the sun was starting to set and you should get inside. but your answer wasn't enough for her.

"and what about our duties?" she lifts from the ground, fixing her dress and wiping any dirt from the fabric, following you. "our responsibilities to our homes? our families..."

"i don't need it," you shrug. such an obvious answer to you. "you know how terribly i despise the idea of marriage. especially to a foolish man twice my age who's only interested in the kingdom's wealth. i'm not like you."

alicent felt a pang in her chest at the hidden disappointment in your tone, knowing that the feeling was directed at her. being told what to do and how to act since the day she was born wasn't something she could control.

"it's a part of who i am, whether you like it or not..." she shifted uncomfortably, her expression shifting to sadness.

“if i can’t get my best friend to not marry a stranger then being a princess is useless,” you utter. of course, she didn't care about marrying a complete stranger when her father was always by her side, taking control of her life like a puppet.

alicent stayed silent and avoided your gaze more than ever before, the guilt and shame making her uncomfortable, and the thought of you being upset and disappointed adding to it even more. she could tell you were struggling too, with feelings and words to say, she could feel the tension.

“i can’t just… not marry,” she eventually said softly, keeping her eyes down at the ground. “it’s my duty. it isn’t as easy as you seem to think it is.”

she was right, you were very aware. if it was hard for you to convince your own father of avoiding marriage, it certainly wasn't a choice for her. still, you despised the idea of watching alicent become someone's wife.

“are you marrying because you want to or because your father says it’s your duty?”

her breath caught in her throat at the question, and she remained silent for a moment, her throat going dry.

“i…” she hesitated. “both…?”

“really?” you scoff, eyes hardening, narrowed towards her. “you don’t mind marrying someone just for the benefits of it? someone old enough to be your grandsire? with no love?”

the look on your face, the way you sounded, and your trembling lower lip made it feel like someone was stabbing a knife through her chest. she paused and swallowed, averting her eyes again. “i don’t… mind it."

you couldn't believe alicent's words, frowning at the unexpectedness of them and at how easy it was for her to accept her fate of a future where you weren't directly included. "i'm happy for you, then."

alicent could feel tears slowly building up, the sight of your hurt eyes and the way you whispered those words feeling like a punch straight to her gut. she was filled with guilt again, and a sudden urge to take everything she had just said back. but she didn’t.

“i should get back, it's late," you step backward, hands hiding behind your back. "i hope you have a pleasant rest of the day, lady alicent,” avoiding her eyes, you say, being unusually formal.

the familiar and formal title felt like another stab through her heart, her chest aching even more with shame. she swallowed hard but didn’t look away from you. “you too, your highness….” she said quietly, equally as formal.

#alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #house of the dragon

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