#my darling dears is it not obvious what i ship?

[witch-off]

“How to heal a broken bone.”

SPOILERS FOR THE BAD BATCH S2

Rating: Explicit +18

Pairing: Tech x (F)Reader

Synopsis: Tech is very frustraded after breaking his femur, to say the least. He can’t go on missions. He can't fix his ship. He can't even walk straight with crutches. Luckily you are there to help him.

Warnings: Established relationship, poly relationship with the rest of the Batch, a little bit of angst, smut, fingering (female receiving) and oral sex(male receiving).

You hear Tech sigh for the 10th time. Or maybe it was the 15th time. You were already losing count.

Your eyes move from your current task to Tech sitting in the pilot's chair. He seemed bored while staring at his datapad, which was something unusual. "Bored" was one of the last words you would use to describe him. He always seemed to be involved in some research or working on something with his hands. But now he was navigating through files in a distracted way in search of some interesting information.

The culprit of this situation was the cast that went from his foot to half of his left thigh. Luckily, the fracture in the femur wasn’t serious, it would take 3 months for him to recover, but with the help of AZI and a lot of bacta Tech would be back much sooner. Unfortunately, this also meant that he couldn’t go on missions for quite a while.

The others had left early to explore for supplies, but you had chosen to stay and make some improvements to the ship. But it was an obvious excuse to stay with Tech and take care of him. You hated the idea of leaving him alone, especially in these conditions.

Tech lets another frustrated sigh escape and you can't help but copy him.

"Do you need anything, darling?" You ask from your place on the floor where you been fixing some wires on the wall.

"I don't think you can fix my leg. So no, thank you." He answers without even looking away from the datapad.

"Watch your tone, Mister. I know you're upset, but it's no reason to talk to me like that." You use a warning tone and Tech quickly turns to you with a guilty expression.

"My apologies, dear." He says in a softer voice this time. That’s more like it."I didn't mean to sound so rude. It's just that I'm so..."

"Bored?" You suggest.

"Frustrated. But ‘bored’ also works."

You shake your head slightly, getting up to go to him. Tech's mind it’s never quiet, it wasn't a surprise that he was so antsy. His good leg kept bouncing up and down nonstop while he was reading. You were afraid that at any moment he was going to snap and rip out his own cast.

You put one hand on your waist, using your other forearm to prop yourself against his chair to get a good look at what he was reading. From this angle you can finally see that It was a medical article about the speed of regeneration of a broken femur. You couldn't blame him for his impatience.

Luckily, the Batch managed to find a pair of crutches for Tech, but he could barely get around with it. So most of the time Wrecker helped him move around the ship. Tech also needed help when it came to showering and getting dressed, and as happy as you were to help him, having your independence taken away is something horrible.

"I should be out there helping or at least doing something useful. But I'm here, being a dead weight for the team." He complains, letting his body sink against the chair.

You frown, tugging slightly at his ear. Tech does a little “ouch” sound and rubs the bruised skin with his hand. "You know that's not true. Everyone's glad you're okay. I'm glad you're okay. We just want you to rest now."

The proof of your words was right there. His leg was on a small stool, resting on a pillow that was given by Omega as a way to make him more comfortable. The whole Batch wanted to sign his cast - Even Cid wanted to be a part of it. Omega's name had little stars doodles. Wrecker's was the one that occupied the largest space with an imitation of an explosion around it. Hunter's was accompanied by a small drawing of a skull while Echo's was only his name written in blue. And of course, yours was accompanied by hearts.

He sighs, nodding with his head. "You're right. It's just that this reminds me of Kamino. Clones that didn't heal fast enough were sent to maintenance work or just... decommissioned.”

You can feel the weight in his words. You can't even imagine what it's like to be discarded so easily. Clones were considered replaceable, so it was likely that several of them were thrown away just because the Kaminoans didn’t have the patience or empathy at all.

"Well, this isn't Kamino. You have all the time you need to recover, we'll still be here when you’re done." You pass your fingers through Tech's hair, feeling him relax with your touch.

"Thank you." He gives you a small smile, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing deeply as your hands continue to caress him.

"At least I'm here to keep you company." You say. "I can take a break for now. We can play Sabacc, what do you think?"

He seems to consider your proposal, but he gives up quickly. “I've played 5 times with Wrecker. And 4 of Denjarik with Omega. I still don't know how she always manages to win." The last part was definitely a blow to his ego. "Besides, I want to do something with my hands. Something constructive."

"Well, I can’t carry you around like Wrecker. But maybe I can bring you something to work on?"

"No, stay here. Please." Tech tilts his head back, staring at you with his big brown eyes behind his lenses. His hand pulls the hem off your blouse gently, making a silent request.

You could never say no to him.

You lean towards him until your lips met. The angle is a bit awkward, but the kiss is deep and sweet. He lets a deep sound slip from the back of his throat, something needy for more. You need to hear it again.

One of your hands holds the back of the seat to keep you balanced, while the other goes to his face, stroking his cheek with your thumb. This time it’s you who let out a low moan as his tongue invades your mouth, exploring it eagerly.

A shiver runs through your body as Tech partially lifts your blouse, the cold air of the ship hitting the skin of your belly. But soon his warm hands are on you, grabbing everything they can reach. His calloused fingers sending shockwaves through your nerves.

You feel them creeping up your ribs, coming too close to your chest and you know where this is going. You hold his wrists, moving his hands away from you. You already miss them. "Hold on, baby." You sigh. "You're still hurt."

"But it's been so long since we've done anything." He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, raising his forefinger in the same way when he’s about to explain something. "Exactly 3 weeks, 4 days and 16 hours."

You roll your eyes without being able to contain a smile. But it was true, it's been a long time. Between missions and taking care of Omega there was not much time left and no privacy to do something more intimate.

You stare at the cockpit door, mulling over what to do next. You probably had a few more hours alone, and the Batch used to let you know when they were on their way back.

"All right, but we need to be quick. What do you want to do, pretty boy?"

His face lights up, as it always does when he gets something he wants. "On the control panel, I want to touch you."

You chuckle, starting to take off your clothes with the confidence of someone who has undressed more than once in the cockpit. "So when you said you wanted to do something with your hands you were talking about me?”

You lean against the control panel, just in your underwear, feeling the icy metal bite your backside. You put one leg on his lap so he had better view, being mindful of his cast. He can’t turn fully in your direction because his extended leg, but it is good enough. "I'd rather do you than anything in the galaxy."

You hate how flushed you get just from that. You're still not used to this kind of sweet talk and how it makes your insides turn. "Really smooth." You mock him, pushing him slightly on the shoulder."Come on, I'm freezing here."

Tech fix his goggles once more, giving you a mischievous smile before starting. His palm moves slowly along your calf to your thigh , blooming chills along it’s path. He stops when his fingers bump against your panties, toying with the hem.

"I missed that." Tech whispers, leaning over to kiss the inside of your leg. "I missed you."

"You see me every day." You try to joke, but your voice gets breathless when his fingers start approaching your core.

"You know what I meant."

"I don't know if I quite follow. Can you show me?" You bite your lip, giving him a playfully look.

You can see the desire burning in his eyes. The way his pupils are dilated behind his lenses. How heavy his breathing gets. Tech doesn't bother to pull your panties to the side, his thumb stimulating your clit over the fabric while his other fingers cupped your vulva.

You moan softly, your hips moving in sync with his hand, searching more for that feeling. But it's just enough to keep you on edge. It's not what you need to scratch that itch.

"Tech, come on." You pull the last part with a whimper, to close to begging already."Give me more." It’s really been a while, you didn’t notice how needy you were until now.

"I enjoy taking my time, dear. You know this better than anyone." He says while applying a little more pressure to your throbbing clit.

You let out a breathless laugh that quickly becomes a moan. "I think what you enjoy is to torture me."

Tech doesn’t deny it, only giving you a small smirk. But he finally gives in to your pleas, his fingers entering your panties and stroking your folds.

"You're soaking wet." He says the obvious with a smug look.

The answer on the tip of your tongue disappears when he penetrates you with one finger. You let out a silent scream, holding his arm to ground yourself. Tech begins to move it slowly, letting you get used to the stretch. But it’s not enough and soon you’re begging again.

The second digit comes shortly after, throwing you in the borderline between pleasure and pain. Tech watches you closely in the same way he does his experiments. You can't help how even your ears get warm under his insistent gaze.

You feel your leg start shaking, trying it’s best to keep you standing while holding your weight on it’s own. Your free hand grab the edge of the control panel, stopping you from falling.

Tech rotates his hand, causing his thumb to brush against your clit every time this fingers thrusted deeper, hitting your spongy spot. The wet sound of skin against skin fills the cockpit, being only overcome by your loud moans.

“Take off your bra. I want to see you.” You think you would do anything he asked as long he didn’t stop.

With one shaky hand you pull up your bra, your tits jumping out of its confinement. Tech watch hungrily as your breasts bounce with each movement. He lick his lips before giving the next order. “Now touch yourself.”

You do as you’re told, pinching your already hard nipple. You decide to give Tech a good show, since you knew he liked to give extra attention to them during sex. You pant softly, sweat running down you temples as you pull and pinch your nipples before soothing the tender skin.

You stare at Tech's parted lips in a greedy way. You wanted to ravish them, to kiss him until you two were out of breath. But the angle didn't allow that at the moment. You're content with his fingers moving inside you for now. More than content actually.

"Are you close, dear?" You can hear his voice through the hum of your ears, nodding your head weakly. "Good. Just relax and come for me."

That definitely wouldn't be a problem for you. You chant his name while your orgasm is ripped from you, making your legs tremble with the intensity. Tech continues with the deep thrusts, prolonging your high until you’re too sensitive. Your head falls back as your chest rose with every breath.

You put your other feet on the ground for balance, both still fragile with the aftershocks. Your heart melts a little inside your chest when you realize the way Tech looks at you. Like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen.

"You're beautiful." He mumbles.

You cover your face with a grunt. "You can't say that kind of thing while you have two fingers inside me."

"Oh, my apologies." He finally seems to realize that he's still deep inside you, pulling his fingers out slowly. You hiss softly, felling empty all of a sudden."I must say, it definitely helped me get less anxious." Tech says while analyzing your juices in between his digits.

You shake your head at him. Tech was sometimes unbelievable.

Your back complains about being in so many strange positions for so long, but you don't hesitate to duck your head to capture his lips again. Tech looks surprised, but returns the kiss quickly, pulling you to him.

You squeeze him over his pants, making him moan against your mouth. You could feel the hard line of his cock against your palm, applying a little more pressure to hear his desperate groans. Unconsciously, Tech tries to move his hips against your hand, causing a painful grunt from him.

Your eyes widen and you stop immediately. "Are you okay?" You'd hate to have to explain to Hunter that Tech got more hurt during sex. That you shouldn’t be having… because his femur is broken. Kriff.

"I'm alright, don't worry. I just moved my thigh in the wrong way." He tries to pull you for another kiss, but you push him gently against the chair.

“Relax, pretty boy. I will be taking it from here.”

You push away his good leg just enough to get in between them. The ground is cold against your knees, but you're more focused on what comes next. Tech watched you closely as you unzip his pants, pulling his cock out. He was throbbing in your hand, a drop of precum dripping down his head.

You always though Tech had a nice dick. It wasn’t very thick like Hunter or Wrecker, but it was quite long. He always managed to reach that sweet spot inside you that drive you crazy. You almost want to try to ride him, but you couldn’t risk hurting Tech or broking his cast. So that was a idea for another time.

Your fingers close around the base of his cock, letting your breath ghost along his shaft. Tech whines with the tease, pushing his hips in your direction.

You place a hand on his waist to keep him in place. “Stay still for me, love. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He just nods in agreement, desperate for you to continue.

Oh, but you don’t have the heart to tease him for too long. He has been so good to you. You want to give him whatever he asks for.

You stroke him a few times, his cock craving for the attention. You lap at him, taking your time as your tongue explore him slowly. You stare at him, drinking from every sweet expression of pleasure on his face.

Your lips wrap the head of his cock, felling his taste invading your mouth. You start bobbing your head up and down, going deeper each time.

Tech places a hand on your nape, not forcing you down, only resting in there.

You love how vocal he his during sex, but in moments like this, when your mouth is around him, Tech can hardly form a word to save his live. Just letting out broken praises and little pleas. It’s like song to your ears.

This time, it's his moans that reverberate through the walls. You want to smile satisfied with yourself when you hear his little whines every time you suck a bit harder, but that would mean having to take your mouth off Tech, and you wouldn't allow that.

When he hits the back of your throat Tech starts speaking gibberish.“If you keep it up like this I’m going t- Oh maker.” You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks. His face scrunching in pleasure.“Please, it’s been a while, I c-can’t.”

"I don't want you to hold back, love." You stop for a moment to catch your breath, but keep stroking him with your hand. You fold his balls with the other and it’s cute how hard he’s trying not to move his hips. Without any warning, you go down on him again, leaving Tech in a speechless mess.

Tech gives a weak moan before coming, filling your mouth with hot strings of cum. You close your eyes, savoring his musky taste. You keep milking him until he's totally spent, humming around him before removing his soft cock from your mouth.

You make sure he’s watching while you swallow and lick your lips. You rest your head against his thigh, smiling sweetly at him.

"Feeling more relaxed now?"

He strokes your head, letting out a deep breath. "Oh, Yes. Definitely. Thank you, dear.”

“You know I’m always happy to help.” You rise from the floor, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Do you think you'll be okay while I go take a shower?"

He nods, eyes half closed. “Yes, I will be here waiting for you.” His voice is sleepy and you can see how hard he’s trying not to fall asleep.

You give him a sympathy look, petting his hair. “Go take a nap, I will be back in a minute.”

You have enough time to clean up and finish fixing the ship. No one suspects anything when they return with a crate full of supplies. Well, except Hunter, who gave you a quick side eye.

But you couldn't help but realize that for the rest of the day Tech didn't sigh or bounce his leg, not even once. Maybe you found the cure for his agitation after all.

[villainousshakespeare]

Therapy Fit for a God

Chapter 31

Loki/OFC Rated E: Trigger Warnings (for previous chapters): Smut, Sex, Oral Sex, Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics, mention of torture and mind control, touch starved, drinking, memory loss.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29

Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.

Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?

@yespolkadotkitty@just-the-hiddles@hopelessromanticspoonie@wine-and-whines@arch-venus25@caffiend-queen@devilish–doll@enchantedbyhiddles@hiddlesholic@i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman@kellatron55@ladyoftheteaandblood@latent-thoughts@yespolkadotkitty @myoxisbroken@nuggsmum@nildespirandum@pedeka@redfoxwritesstuff@sinfully-lustful-darling@vodka-and-some-sass@wrathkitty@kingtwhiddleston@wolfsmom1@poetic-fiasco@shiningloki@dangertoozmanykids101@bookworm-christina@amwolowicz@delightfulheartdream@frostbitten-written@what-a-flammable-heart@tom-hlover@nonsensicalobsessions@myraiswack@loki-yoursaviourishere@ghostypau@ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza@mareebird@colorfulfreakstudentpizza @szycha22@chokemedaddyloki@queenofallhobos@just-the-hiddles-reads @alwida10 @justjoanne242 @lovelysizzlingbluebird@lokiprompts@evieplease @bitchassbecky691@georges-left-ear@mischief2sarawr@thedistractedagglomeration

It's back!!! Well, if this isn't the definition of taking too long, I don't know what is. My sincere apologies. It was a long summer. Finally though, I have scratched out some time away with just my hubs and my keyboard, and now that he is in bed I space to write!

It was a relief to Loki that the room he paced back and forth, wearing a proverbial hole in the carpet, was familiar to him. He reminded himself of that fact regularly, in an effort to stave off the worst of the anxiety coursing through him as he waited for his Lady's arrival. No matter what the future held for him from this point forth, at least he knew himself and all that belonged to him, this room included.

Also included, he hoped, was the woman due to arrive at any moment.

It had been a boisterous reunion with when he had finally joined his family where they waited for him to emerge from his procedure. Any event involving Thor was bound to be less than serene, but the nature of his discovery made the atmosphere raucous even by the standards of the Asgardian royal family.

"Brother! I mean Cousin!" Thor had proclaimed, lifting him from his feet in an embrace that had gone near to shattering Loki's rib cage. "Norns take it all, Brother it has always been, and Brother it shall always be!"

"Thank you, Thor," he had wheezed out with the little air left in his lungs.

"I always knew that you and I shared blood. It was as obvious as it is that day turns to night and night to day."

"Yes, our similarities are breathtaking," Loki had replied dryly, doing his best to hide the misty eyed sensation sweeping over him at his brother's declaration. "I am only surprised that the people did not take us for twins."

"Loki, my dear one," Frigga had cut short his sarcasm before Thor had an opportunity to read it and be stung. "Can you ever forgive us for what we have put you through?"

"I have forgave and been forgiven for far worse in my time," Loki had shrugged, accepting a kiss from her on his cheek. "And as it turns out, I was not the only one deceived in this."

"You were not," she had agreed, a spark of anger in her eye that he was grateful was not directed at him.

"So tell me, where is my dearest not-father? I would have thought he would be first to greet me, all eagerness to explain why he was right to keep the true details of my birth from all of us."

"Mother sent him away," Thor's voice had held a note of awe that Loki was completely in agreement with. To his knowledge no one had ever imposed their will upon the great All Father of the Nine Realms.

"Did you?" was all he said aloud as his mind reeled.

"We all needed time to process the truth," Frigga had a voice of vibranium that would have cut through the strongest armor. "It will go easier if we do not have to do so while your father... while Odin spins his version of events. He will be back in time, when we have all had time to consider."

"What have I told you, Thor," Loki had smirked at his brother. "In a battle to the death, I would choose our Mother every time. If, that is, I may still call you mother?"

The hesitation he had felt rocked him tot he very core. Always, Frigga had been the guiding light in his life. Her love may have been flawed, conditional to Odin's laws, but he had always believed in it. Even when he had learned that he was not her son by birth, there had been no other woman to put in her place. Now, now that he had a name and a face to put to the woman who had birthed him, could he still consider Frigga his Mother? Would she want him to?

"Volla may have given you birth," Frigga had said, tears standing in her eyes, "but in all ways that matter, you are my son, Loki. I have always loved you. Knowing that you are the blood of my blood only strengthens that love."

It seemed that there were times when the tears would not be stifled. He had embraced her again, allowing the salt water to flow from his eyes onto her shoulder as he held her to him. It was only as Thor joined them, wrapping them both in his beefy embrace, that he had heard the door to the chamber open and shut and known that Caroline had slipped silently out.

He had wanted to go after her immediately, but an unaccustomed shyness had descended on him. He owed her so much, this tiny but fierce woman of Midgard. Not only was she responsible for this latest revelation of his origin story, but it was due to her that was alive to learn it. Now that he could remember all of the support she had given him over the past weeks, he found himself feeling profoundly unworthy of so steadfast a woman. He needed something to show her that he knew just how lucky he was to have her in his life and in his corner.

"Mother," he had asked, enjoying the sensation of saying it once more without the sarcasm. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Name it, my son. If it is in my power, it is yours."

"Now that is a dangerous statement if ever I heard it," Thor had said with a rumble of laughter, as Loki began to lay out what he wished for.

His mother, as always, had been as good as her word. Loki paused his pacing now to once more needlessly take inventory of his pocket universe, making sure the precious item was safely locked away for the right moment.

A light tap on the door brought him swinging around to stare at it for a moment. An unaccustomed wave of uncertainty threaded down his spine, causing his heart to beat an irregular tattoo. He wanted so much for the next series of minutes to go as he hoped. It had been longer than he could remember, now that he had memories to recall, since he had wanted anything so much.

"Loki, are you in there?" the clear, musical voice called. "Your mother said you wanted to see me."

He realized suddenly that he had stayed rooted to the spot and moved in a dash to cross the room and open the door. He smiled as he saw the small woman standing there, green dress bringing out the color of her eyes and the roses in her lips.

"My darling Caroline," he breathed, calming as his eyes met hers. "To call you lovely would be a drastic understatement. Won't you come in?"

"Of course," she smiled at him. "How are you feeling? You did have quite a morning."

"And you," he replied, ushering her into his space, "have had quite a month. Give or take."

"Fair," she acknowledged with a laugh. "We have both been through quite the wringer lately."

Loki watched her mouth as the corners tilted up and yearned to kiss it. Everything in him was telling him to gather her into his arms and not let her go until she was breathless from his embrace. But he had a question to put to her, and he wanted them both to be clear headed when he did.

"Loki, what is wrong?" she asked him, peering up at him through troubled eyes. "You do remember me, don't you?"

"I remember everything," he said, caress seeping into the words. "I remember your bravery, your strength of will, the way you put your career, your very life on the line to help me, a veritable stranger from an alien race. I remember how right it felt to hold you in my arms, and the passion we discovered together when at last I had you in my bed. Oh, min kajesta, I remember it all."

Her face had turned a beguiling shade of red while he spoke, and he watched as the pupils in her eyes dilated at his words. Once more pull to have her without a moment to loose overtook him. Just speaking her praise out loud had him straining against his leather trousers with desire.

"I am glad," she managed to squeak out, eyes darting down and up again.

Caroline made a move towards him and Loki sprung into action, darting around the table and lifting a bottle of wine to offer her.

"May I pour you a glass, darling? I promise it is not the normal Asgardian vintage, but a perfectly respectable Chateaux Margot from Midgard."

"That would be nice," she sounded confused. "Loki, tell me what is bothering you? I promise, I will accept it, whatever it is."

"Of course you will, sweetheart," he sighed, pouring the wine into two glasses and handing one to her. "Just as you accepted every other facet of my disreputable life."

"Well, I don't so much know if I accept the invasion and all the destruction that went with it," she qualified, "but I do understand the mitigating factors. But please, for the sake of my sanity, tell me what is wrong."

"My darling, since the moment you met me, bound in that cell, your life has been in upheaval. I have torn you away from your work, your friends, your home. Your very life has been threatened on numerous occasions. It cannot have been an easy time for you."

"Not easy, no," she agreed, face scrunching adorably as she considered his words. "But at it was never dull. In all honesty Loki, there were days when I thought I lost you that were horrible. You can ask Tony at some point, or Bruce, I was a basket case. But as long as you were with me, I always believed that things would somehow work out. It was only when you were gone that I was panicked."

"Ah yes, Stark and Banner," he said their names with a grimace. "They are just the problem."

"Why? I thought you and Tony had bonded? And yes, I understand that Bruce might not be your favorite person, given the Hulk smashing, but -"

"You misunderstand me, love," he interrupted her. "I am not disparaging the Midgardian heroes. I will not even say anything against that blind menace who despite his infirmity managed to look inappropriately at you. No, it just that they are, well, heroes. That is what you are used to consorting with, Caro."

"I have not consorted with any of them!"

"I do not mean it in that way," he smiled at her, grateful despite the misunderstanding to hear that she had not been more than a colleague with any of them. "I simply mean that you spent your time on Earth with a certain type of man. The heroic, selfless type to be specific."

"I would hardly call Tony selfless," she scoffed.

"You are deliberately deflecting what I am trying to say," he ground out, frustrated that she was interrupting him. "This is hard for me darling, please let me finish."

"Sorry," she mumbled, face not loosing its impatient look.

"With the caveat that Stark is possibly the only person alive as self interested as I am," he admitted, ceding her the point, "you are part of a team of heroes. Yes, there are times when certain members of that team do things that go against that code of ethics, as when they wanted to execute me without a proper trial, but for the most part, those that you surround yourself with are paragons of humanity, struggling to do what is right and just."

"Alright," she said slowly as he paused. "I might have some issues with parts of what you said, but I will grant you the basic premise. I work with a team of good guys. What is your point?"

"My point, my love, is that I am not a hero. I am a seriously flawed semi-reformed super villain at best."

"Loki," she said, face contorting to hide what looked suspiciously like laughter, "is that what you think?"

"It is the truth."

"Have you not been paying attention?" she asked in frustration, flopping down into one of his chairs and taking a long drink of wine. "Very good by the way. Alright, where to begin... How may times have you saved Thor's life? When you would go on your missions for Asgard before his thwarted coronation?"

"Countless, particularly if you take into account the times I kept him from saying or doing something dramatically stupid."

"And by how many of those missions was Asgard kept safe?"

"All of them, but it is not the same thing."

"Isn't it? You were fighting to protect your home. It is no different from what Tony does on Earth. And when we came up with the plan to retrieve the Mind Stone, the very thing that had caused you so much pain and torture, did you Tony, Thor, and I go alone? No, even though it was not your world that hung in the balance, you put your life on the line, not to mention your sanity, and helped us keep the jewel from falling into unsafe hands. What do you call that?"

"Righting a wrong I myself committed."

"But that's my point!" she insisted, sloshing wine onto the carpet as she gestured for effect. "Everyone commits wrongs. No hero is perfect. Not Matt, not Bruce, certainly not Tony. It doesn't matter if you make mistakes. What matters is that you when you do, you try to make them right. You are a hero, Loki, not because you are perfect, but because you try."

"You don't think I'm perfect?" he asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow that sent a flood of desire through her.

"I plead the fifth," she said, bringing a confused look to his face. "Loki, let me put it this way. You are all the hero I need."

"You are sure?"

"More sure than I have ever been about anything in my life. I love you, Loki."

"Well in that case," Loki took a big breath and reached into his pocket universe, "I would like to offer you this."

With all of his nerves ready to snap, he held out the small golden apple in his hand to her.

***

Caroline had been looking forward to this moment with Loki for what seemed like ages. First she had thought him gone, most likely dead if not dying. Then, just when she had found out that he was alive, his memory was wiped out, taking all of his knowledge of their relationship. She had white knuckled it through the past few days when Loki, lacking his memories, had nonetheless invited intimacies with her, ones she desperately wanted, but felt guilty indulging in with his altered state.

Now, at last, the were both healthy and whole, minds in tact. She wanting nothing in the world but to have a sizable amount of time together, alone.

She had slipped out of the room when Loki had emerged from his procedure and greeted his family. Yes, she had been separated from a fully functional Loki for days, but his separation from his family had been going on for longer. It was important, she thought, to give Loki, Frigga, and Thor a moment to reforge their frayed family bond. Watching all of the love his mother and brother surrounded him with had made Caroline happy, but she still felt as yet a bit of an outsider, not sharing the centuries of history with the three. A quiet exit seemed the most tactful action she could take.

Now at last, it was her turn. Loki had sent her a message asking that she meet him in his rooms. Suppressing a thrill she let her mind wander to why he might want to meet her there. Could it have anything to do with the large, comfy bed that dominated the room? Caroline could only hope.

Her pulse was racing as she knocked on the door. The few doors down from where she herself had been allotted quarters was long enough to amp up her excitement to a fever point.

The Loki who answered the door was not the one she had been expecting. Judging by Loki's actions in all of there previous time together, Caroline would have expected him to pounce on her. They had wasted so much time apart, be it mentally or physically, that even a few moments not in his arms seemed a crime to her. He, on the other hand appeared determined to keep the whole room between them. Why?

She tried to track his thoughts as Loki rambled on, to answer sensibly about all that they had gone through, to defend him against himself, but as he kept talking, her mind was screaming for him to throw her onto the bed that loomed just behind him and ravish her. What was taking him so long?

"You don't think I'm perfect?" Loki asked, seizing on and twisting a comment she had made in the midst of trying to convince him not to belittle himself. His look, cocky and knowing, sent a wave of lust so strong through her that Caroline pressed her thighs together to counter it.

"I plead the fifth," she said, forgetting for a moment that he would have scant knowledge of American legal terms. "Loki, let me put it this way. You are all the hero I need."

"You are sure?" he seemed intent on the point, as though their futures depended on it.

"More sure than I have ever been about anything in my life. I love you, Loki." It really was as simple as that.

"Well in that case, I would like to offer you this."

Caroline didn't know what she had been expecting. Jewelry perhaps? His empty had to pull her close to him? Certainly she had not been expecting a small, perfectly formed golden apple. She could tell from the look on his face that it was important, but she had no idea in what way. Distantly, she thought she might have seen something about an apple in that large encyclopedia she had paged through in his cabin, she couldn't remember what the significance was. She was fairly certain it was nothing to do with the Frost Giant side of his heritage.

"Thank you?" she said uncertainly, reaching for the apple.

"You don't understand, do you?" he guessed, reading her. "Of course not, how could you. Caroline, min kajesta, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I want that too, Loki," she said, beaming from the inside.

"No, you misunderstand me, my love," he smiled again, getting down on one knee in front of her chair and caressing the side of her face. "I want to spend not just the rest of your life, the short life of a mortal, with you, but the mine. The lifespan of a God."

"Loki, I am not a God, or a Goddess," she laughed nervously at the very idea.

"To me you are the very definition of Goddess," he told her, eyes brimming with love. "You are wise, gentle, strong, loving, and, to be quite candid, the most desirable creature I have ever met. All you are missing is longevity. And this apple can give it to you."

"What?" she must be hearing him wrong, she thought.

"The Golden Apples of Idun can grant a sort of immortality to any who eat them," he explained quietly. "They can, in short, turn a mortal into a God."

"How many are there?" she asked, stalling for time.

"At the moment? Three. When you have eaten one, there will be two. But fret not, more will grow. I a thousand years or so, another will take this one's place."

"Loki, I can't take that! It is too precious for me."

"The stars are not too precious for you, my dearest love," he told her seriously. "I would steal them all for you."

"Did you steal the apple?" she asked.

"I would have, if I had to, but I did not. Frigga called in a favor from Idun and procured it for me."

"Frigga did that?"

"She did. She loves me, it seems. And she thinks you are good for me. She is right, you are far too good for me, but I intend to have you nonetheless. Will you have me, min kajesta? Will you share this long life we me as we commit mischief across the galaxy? Say yes, love. Please."

"Loki," she said his name like a prayer. "Yes, my love."

[kozumesphone]

also, second one (cause i couldnt resist)

if u seek amy! i think thatll be fun

my hobby is reading and playing the guitar!

i think i read like fifty books last year..

my fav books are pjo tlt (its nostalgic ok!!) and the hunger games series

i like to play mostly taylor swift and gracie abrams songs on the guitar!

i basically steal my sisters guitar whenever i want to play cause i dont have my own lol (im better than her)

my favorite taylor swift song is youre on your own kid

my favorite gracie abrams song is feels like

my favorite color is yellow (pretty obvious i think) it reminds me of sunshine and just overall happy things yk?

my favorite season is spring! the flowers start blooming and theyre so pretty (downside are the bugs)

i have a lot of favorite shows: stranger things, brooklyn 99, the good place, modern family

my favorite subject is chemistry! i love learning about the world around me and its properties etcetc

some random stuff about my personality: i get distracted so easily its a nightmare to study, i am an emotional wreck i cry easily, definitely a night owl, hufflepuff, daughter of poseidon

i dont mind if u pick someone from a book i dont recognise, that will just give me incentive to read it!!!

oh forgot to mention im a straight girl

love uuuu and congrats again!!!

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

CORASON⭑.ᐟ

⟢ “I love you, okay, darling!”

a/n: okay but the way the ship name is corason? which sounds so close to corazon? which means like ‘my dear’ in italian, I think?? MADE FOR EACH OTHER MUCH 🤭💓

I think you’d best match with jason grace!

I mean, daughter of poseidon x son of jupiter? hello?? PERFECTION!!

jason would learn to play the piano while you play the guitar, so you guys could play music together

he LOVES laying on your stomach while you read on your bed and run your fingers through his hair

^ sometimes, he even falls asleep like that, and you both slowly shift into cuddling

he definitely hypes you up to finish your goodreads reading goal, if not exceed it (what can I say? he’s jason grace)

he definitely went to the ballad of songbirds and snakes movie with you (supportive bfs even when they have no idea what you read/watch >>)

he once asked you why you love yoyok by taylor, and straight up bawled while you explained to him what the song meant

he’s a very sunshine-y person, just like you, so when you guys are together, leo pretends to faint and says “too much sun! i’m getting sunstroke! help!!” and he thinks he’s really funny (i’d laugh, ngl <3)

come springtime, he lets you put all the flowers you collect over the summer into his hair

^ he also does the rapunzel braid on your hair and puts in matching flowers in it

(he drives away the bugs for you, dw!)

in an au, he’d never have heard of any tv shows, but after hearing you yap to him about them, he watches them ALL and makes notes about them too (about what? only he knows.)

okay, here we’re going off the rails so badly, but it’s a very ooc and personal hc of mine: jason sucks ASS at geography and chemistry. he will literally breakdown at the very thought of them.

he gets you to help him out with the chemistry part, and he teaches you math (if you’re not good at it already)!

he makes sure you don’t let yourself get burnt out while studying, and also makes sure you don’t get distracted and procrastinate

he comforts you at any time of the day: you say it, he’ll be over asap to give you free cuddles with your favourite chocolates & drinks

sometimes, he doesn’t even need you to tell him. he’ll just. know. when you’re feeling off. and his jacie senses tingle, and he calls you up and goes, “is it cuddletime?” and then drives over

while you’re a night owl, he’s an early bird (he must teach me his way, tho, because h o w)

^ you stay up till 2-3 am reading/studying and wake up by 9 or 10 am, while he sleeps by 10 pm and wakes up by 5 am to the dot

so you guys leave each other sticky notes before going to bed for the other one to see when they wake up

you guys 100% go on bookstore dates (he buys you everything you can carry on your own), library/study dates (especially while grinding during finals szn), museum dates (to mock the statues), beach dates (so he can get mesmerised while watching you do silly little tricks with the water and talk to the fishies), etc.

his love language is 101% physical touch & acts of service <3

temp. taglist — @nuncscioquidsitamor-14 @mqstermindswift @puffoz @skeelly @urmomabby

@sunnitheapollokid @jgracie @canonfeminine @cinemaconrad @roses4plvto

@urbanflorals @aezuria @thetunnelunderoceanboulevard @cherigall @percabethluvr

@pjoverseluvr @maybxlle @mershellscape @riordanness @starlitszn

@metyouattherighttime @a-beautiful-fool @sequinsnstars @ssparksflyy @fayvpor

@iheartgirlzn @nomournersnofunerals @over-the-ocean-call @seaglass-and-string @cer3lia

@lara20aral @bloophasarrived @xoxochb @auroraofthesun1 @sophiesonlinediary

@solangelotus @brodieland @s1utlvr @imasimpdealwithit @waitingonher

@nqds @skyrigel @daydream-of-a-wallflower @hermidastouch @catastrxblues

@moon-drop18 @d4rkdi0rrr @hopelesslyromantic-shark @saltwatergirl6 @hope92100

event masterlist

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Connection for eternity

Vampire Wojchek x fem!reader

warning : blood, romantic, kisses, implied murder, body worship

Summary : Had it been days, weeks months, years or even decades since the boat had come ashore since he had bitten them both. They hardly knew it anymore, but what they did know was that their love remained as it was that night and for all eternity.

Info : Wow another work for our dear sailor I had this idea and wanted to realize it because I think he can be a pretty romantic guy…if he wants to ;) So have fun reading

gif by me (I started trying to make my covers myself it's something)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Broken wood, fog and a dark night with a bloody full moon. The howling of wolves, rats prowling around and bats following you around, looking at you with their dark blood-hungry eyes. It was a night in 1893 in London, one of the cities in the world where the devil set foot on land and would spill death and blood in the coming nights…together or rather with his descendants.

He had driven his fangs into the necks and veins of the crew, killing and tearing them all apart, mixing the blood with the rain and recoloring the wood. It was a night when Dracula went off the ship and in the fog of the night, unnoticed by the onlookers and policemen, the first mate and a female passenger went off the ship.

In the reports they were "lost" on board but what had happened…what had happened over the years? Too much it seemed because when her eyes opened again she understood what had happened, she understood what was true and she also understood that in this nightmare of infinity the new century had opened, decades seemed to have passed.

He had called it ,,The century of the first world war" and she could still feel his warm hand on hers where he had touched her after they met.

But now, as her milky white eyes turned to the full moon, she felt the bite on her neck again where he had bitten her decades ago. ,,It seems he's not the only one back," she remarked as she heard the footsteps, the flapping of the mists and the howling of the wolves.

There were two monsters out that night, one who had been preying on the population, longing for the new world since his time was long gone.

But the other "vampire" he was here had come to the present had finally come back to her had returned to his heart to his only warm spot in this cold world.

The mighty wooden door opened and she only had to turn around to see her darling already standing in the doorway, a soft smile on his pale lips under which his fangs were hidden.

The pale skin, the veins and arteries and above all the wings hidden under the aristocratic clothing that now looked old and no longer modern.

,,You're back, my love," she stated the obvious firmly, suppressed the quick movement and walked towards him normally, trying to show him in "everyday life" that they were still mortal, that they still had a chance for forgiveness…even if they were already in the middle of hell. Wojchek nodded and put the basket on the table where she had already placed the tea service.

White old porcelain, considered valuable only by the old ones, was a beautiful reminder for the two of them of the day they had breakfast together on the Demeter on a reasonably sunny morning as a secret without the crew knowing.

,,Was it nice outside? Easy to get?" she asked, moving to the wooden chair, which was suddenly pulled back slightly as the black-haired man eased her into her seat, for which she gave him a stern look.

Her pale eyes met his once dark and vivid ones before he pulled several bottles, vials and jugs from the basket made of glass containing the dark viscous liquid she could feel the warmth behind the glass. As if the animal, the human and the poor half-volunteers were still alive and here.

Dark only the moon it's easy…but there seems to be caution in the air" he replied after a moment of wondering if he should give his love the care as he reached for the jug and took her cup pouring the blood slowly into it and his wife swallowed involuntarily as her throat felt raw, dry and hungry.

The need flashed in her eyes and she wanted to sink her fangs into a piece of meat before she suddenly felt his warm hand on hers. ,,Together as always, my heart," he reminded her, a hint of a smile on his usually full face, which she waved away with an embarrassed smile and nervously yet dnakably placed the cup on the plate, waiting for him to pour himself a cup before lifting it.

,,Enjoy it, my hunter," she teased him and heard the amused grin before the cups clinked lightly together and they both took a sip each.

The warm blood first stained her lips, then her tongue and finally her throat warm, full of life and better, tastier than anything they had ever tasted in their dead existence.

A moment of pleasure in which they closed their eyes, a light color returned to their skin, their lips no longer bloodless, their cheeks no longer pale and slightly sunken.

They both became the image of life again. ,,You've never looked more beautiful," he commented suddenly, setting his cup down before placing his hand on her cheek, she nestled against him, putting her own cup down and they both enjoyed the moment that had opened up for them.

,,And you've never hunted better," she winked slightly and now heard the laughter as he told her all the things he'd seen at night and when he'd met, the moon accompanying him even if it was her he was thinking of, the one who accompanied him as a field mouse from time to time and her warm embrace, her warm body was the reward he needed for the infinite time when he came back.

After a moment of looking at him, she rose to the great feast and went out to look at the moon, the sleepy city, the feeling of him and the past. A blink later she felt him behind her, warm hands on her like his lips kissing her fingers one by one she knew he needed it she needed it as a point that he hadn't completely died yet.

,,My beauty, my wondrous woman of infinity," he murmured between kisses as he kissed his way up her arms, playing with the strands of her hair gently, almost reverently, over the bite mark, her trembling disappearing with kisses and gestures before her own hands came to rest on his body.

Warm hands running over his body the bite wound that seemed so much more gruesome than hers, "Such a brave man" she commented feeling him relax as she remembered her letting go of him and he relaxed she placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a grateful kiss.

A kiss drenched in blood and love under the moon that shone on her through the window, Wojchek pulled her closer holding her close in this resilient and yet fragile body….unaware that the beastly old bat had never let them both out of his sight, that the rapier was just waiting to strike at the right moment and extinguish the love he was never meant to have.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@deliri-yum22 , @oceansrose2002 , @thecrossbowkillerr , @minilev , @mask-knife-is-buggys-girl

[whumpdoyoumean]

Whumptober #5

xxx you better pray i don’t get up this time around

“The window,” Nureyev says, veering left. 

“The window?” Juno repeats, not sure at all that he likes this plan. Very certain, in fact, that he does not. 

“The window!” Nureyev fires two shots at the glass, shattering it. “Bend your knees, Juno. Tuck and roll. Remember your training!” And then he disappears.

“What training!” Juno shouts, and then he’s falling, and flailing, and the ground is rushing toward him fasttoofast and he does as Peter says and bends his knees before he hits the ground and maybe he didn’t do it right because there’s the sound of something going snap and his vision goes white and for a moment all he can do is scream. And then he looks at his leg and he screams again.

xxx 

Nureyev is about to make an attempt at picking himself up off the ground when he hears a sickening crack, followed by a pair of screams from Juno that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his heart clench. He’s never heard his partner make a sound like that, not once. 

Not even in the tomb.

His pulse is racing as he scrambles to his feet and turns around. “Juno?” He closes the gap between himself and his partner in mere steps. He sees Juno’s face first, twisted in agony, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He sees Juno’s leg next, and has to turn away as his stomach does a backflip.

“My god.” He forces himself to take two deep breaths, regaining a bit of composure before he turns back to Juno and moves to his side, kneeling in the grass and not caring at all as the damp stuff presses into his bare knees. “Oh, Juno, my god,” he repeats under his breath, still not as composed as he’d like to be. “My-”

“-god,” Juno gasps, managing to look annoyed despite his obvious agony. “Yeah. Got it. It’s-it’s bad.”

“I think that may be a bit of an understatement, darling.” He tries to inject some humor into his voice and does a poor job of it as he grips Juno’s hand in his own.

He must have landed wrong. Very wrong, given that his bone, all jagged red and hints of white, is protruding from his shin. It’s bloody and it’s horrific and Nureyev honestly feels like vomiting, but that’s simply not an option. Instead he takes two deep breaths and pulls out his comm puts a finger to his ear as Juno lays whimpering and groaning and gasping beside him.

“Buddy, where are you now?” he says as soon as the comm crackles to life. 

The fear in his voice, the desperation, must be obvious because there’s a tinge of worry when she responds, “You okay, Pete?”

“We’ve got, um...a bit of a situation, here I’m afraid. Juno’s injured. His leg is broken.”

 “How did he manage that?”

It’s all my fault, he thinks, the thought making his chest go tight. Deep breath. “Can you get in closer, Buddy?” 

“...No. No, I’m sorry, Ransom. The anti-aircraft cannons would have us out of the sky before we landed. You’ll have to make your way to us. Is it bad?”

Nureyev almost laughs at the absurdity of the question, almost, except that Juno is in agony. The man’s hand goes limp in Nureyev’s at that moment, his pained noises quieting. Nureyev is concerned but not surprised to see that Juno has slipped out of consciousness. “Yes. It’s...It’s bad. What about Rita? Couldn’t she hack into them?”

“The computer’s on the fritz, dear, remember? There’s parts that need replacing.”

Nureyev lets out a string of curses under his breath. How could he have forgotten? 

“It’s just a little over a mile, Ransom. Do you think you can get him out?”

“I…” Nureyev shifts his gaze from Juno’s face to his leg and swallows back a bit of bile. “I’m looking at his bone, it’s…out in the open. I’m afraid to move him.”

“Vespa can talk you through stabilizing the injury. Or we can come to you on foot, but--”

“But it’ll take twice as long to get him back to the ship,” Nureyev finishes, heart sinking. “They’ll be coming for us. We don’t have that kind of time.” He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. “Tell me what to do.”

xxx 

Juno wakes up screaming. 

“I know, Juno, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. We’re almost there, darling. Just hold on for me. A little longer.” 

Nureyev is carrying Juno on his back, doing his absolute damndest to keep from jostling the man’s injured leg. But even with the improvised splint, Juno is still getting bumped around with every step.

“Ju-ju-stop! Stop, please! Please.” He breaks down into loud sobs. “Please. Fuck! Please, Nureyev, please.”

Nureyev finds himself biting back tears at the sound of his partner’s begging. 

“I can’t do that, darling. I’m so sorry. We must get you back to the ship so Vespa can do her work.”

Juno groans. “I hate you,” he mumbles.

He knows it’s the blood loss and the pain talking, but the words still send a shard of ice through Nureyev’s heart. He makes it a few more steps, and a few more shards puncture his ventricles, because he’s about to have to do something that he really doesn’t want to do.

Juno is slipping in his arms. 

“My love?” he says. 

Juno only grunts in reply.

“Darling, you’re going to want to brace yourself. I’m...I’m losing my grip on you and I’m afraid--I’m afraid I’m going to need to give you a boost.”

“Don’t.” The word comes out desperate and so very raw. “Nureyev, don’t!”

“Are you ready?”

“Don’t! Please, Peter please don’t do this please--”

Nureyev adjusts his hold on Juno, who barely manages to scream before going limp against Nureyev’s back. Nureyev steps a little faster, pushing himself to hurry, even just a little. His arms, especially his shoulders, are aching and his heart is hammering, his lungs burning, and he’s drenched in sweat. But it doesn’t matter because it’s Juno, stubborn, beautiful, infuriating, magnificent Juno, and Nureyev is going to fix this.

xxx 

[storiesoflilies]

HIIIIIIII LILY MY LOVE!!!!!!

soooo. i am here to talk about 'as we fall, time is broken.' because. WOW

(preemptive apology bc i'm typing this on my computer so i just know it's gonna be long teehee)

first of all, it was an incredible read. i was literally in awe the entire time. like i would consider this a magnum opus of sorts. i would frame this if i could

[also for anyone reading this HUGEEE spoiler warnings for this piece ahead teehee]

okay a few themes i just wanted to pick apart and talk/think about:

the 'first woman' warnings - i LOVED this idea, the little inserts of the past. the idea of passing knowledge forward, knowing what happens, trying to protect someone from your own fate. but also knowing that she cannot learn from verbal warnings; she must learn from experience. the need to live dooms her

running vs protecting - we see toji run when people come to the ship, and our dear reader gets hurt, devastatingly so. even if he wasn't there, he heals her at the end. and yet, at the true end, he's not there, because he knows he would die in the process. i was just left wondering why: the obvious answer is that he's selfishly protecting his own life above someone else's, that he never loved her in a way that could change him. but yet, i was still thinking if he thought, even for a moment, that in allowing himself to continue living, that he was in fact protecting our reader. he knew she cared about him, perhaps more than herself. she would sacrifice herself for him. if he died for her, would she forgive herself? would she be happy?

pride - there are very few instances where we see toji be proud of our reader. at first, i fell head over heals with the line "was it disgust or pride that was making his lips curl?" and then, when he allows her to drink his blood to heal her, there's this question of if the look in his eyes is pride. and finally, at the end. when he's watching and choosing not to intervene, and there's the question of "would toji be proud of her in this moment, as he had been when she defended him all those years ago?...he had to be." because, again, she was saving him. it makes me wonder what truly makes toji proud - is it her sacrifice? but then, why would he be proud when he saves her? was he, too, not sacrificing something in giving a piece of himself to heal her? idk idk idk and just the dichotomy of pride and disgust and AAAHHH idk what to do with this will have to think

this is less of a theme and more just i love him asking for forgiveness in japanese (with the caveat that my japanese is HORRIBLY rusty but that was the sense i got), but in the sense that it's a plea, truly an ask, more than just an "i'm sorry." idk it just felt like, for a moment, he was truly asking something of her (as if she would not do it; as if she would not do anything for him)

aaaAAAHHH once again apologies this got so long and it's mostly just nonsense HAHAHAHAHA but i absolutely adored reading this and thinking about it and thank you for writing it and i love you!!!!!!!!!

WAHHHH QUINN MY DARLING I WAS SOSOSOSOSOS HAPPY TO SEE A LONG REVIEW ON THE FIC IN MY INBOX YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!!!!

NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR A LONG REVIEW I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!!

and omg my magnum opus????? YOU ARE SO FUCKING NICE TO ME ILYSM MWAH MWAH MWAN <33333

discussion under the cut xo

to be honest, i absolutely adore reading what you think and have interpreted in this fic. as i’ve mentioned in previous asks, there are no right or wrong answers here. especially for part one and part three of your review. the ‘first woman’ is very much up to interpretation for who you think it is! it could be the reader, or someone else :3

part 2 is sooooooo delicious!! the way you think toji did not help her in the end to preserve himself because he thought she could never be happy in a world without him????!!!! SO DELISHHHHH MHMMMM I LIKE THIS ALOT!!!!

for part 4, as i said to a nonie in a previous ask, is that it might be toji who asked for forgiveness, and it might not be either hehehehe ;))))

much love,

Lily xo

[geometricalien]

Romance Snippet Game!

I've been tagged by @ultfreakme a long ass time ago but I'm finally getting around to this. I've got 3 current wips to draw from but they are all the same ship so I'll just throw them all here anyways!

rules: share a few lines or a snippet that sums up the main relationship(s) in your wip

Things That Hold Us Together: Steel Bolts and Tender Hearts - (android/technician)

There must be some invisible field that Akashi is able to tap into, something of pure energy that connects to the electricity and internet and- and who knows what else- that makes him the epicenter and able to to control everything with a single synapse in their neural network… Kouki has never heard of such a thing, let alone any theory that alludes to this. It’s… it’s amazing, world altering tech. He feels like a man first encountering fire.

He harshly swallows down the wonder choking him. “Oh.”

Akashi’s eyes stop sparking and the technology returns to normal with the suddenness of gravity being turned back on. The apartment feels much smaller and cramped than before. It’s drab. He hates it.

εὐήλιος - (greek wip act 2)

(theres so many scrapped snippets that fit this, I'll share some of my favorites)

(this is from before I decided to switch povs)

He turns to Kouki, standing on his right as always. His love looked similarly distressed based on his clenched jaw and his fidgeting fingers.

And then there is the other problem with leaving.

He would be discarding his fate. Throwing away the stars and the moon. Abandoning all that he believed in, all that pulled him through life. His name was to be etched into history.

Could he forget what the gods had promised him?

They already blessed him with Kouki. They were entwined in the stars long before either was born. Seijuurou would be spitting on his fate, on the wondrous gift he is.

The man is the best part of his life. -----

“Good.” He purrs, lifting their hands to his mouth and presses light kisses into Kouki’s hand, each a promise of devotion.

Approval from Seijuurou always made him a tad dizzy which only increased when his sly mouth drew in a finger. The enveloping wet heat did nothing to stop the haze his mind easily slipped into. After all, Seijuurou is excellent with his tongue in more ways than one.

“You’ve gotten quite skilled at th-that.” His voice breaks at the sharp suck pulling him deeper into the cavernous warmth.

Seijuurou is unhurried as if they have all the time in the world. Every curl is an act of worship, and he would be worried about the obvious impiety Seijuurou is displaying if it didn’t feel so damn good. He knows what it feels like to have those pink lips wrapped around his length. To have songs of praise bitten into his skin. Seijuurou has loved him softly, roughly, frantically, savoring- in every conceivable way he has been worshiped. -----

He takes hold of Kouki’s hand and draws patterns into his palm. The little soothing action helps ground Kouki when he feels particularly anxious, and a little part of him thinks it helps calm Seijuurou too. As well as being practical it is endlessly endearing to Kouki. When he focuses on the shapes traced he often pieces the phrase “I love you” written over and over. How many times has he borne that phrase into his skin? Has it seeped into the muscle and bone?

trust me, trust me, darling dear - (horror oneshot)

As a child he had a favorite blanket. Blue and the softest material you’d ever feel, made of wishes and dreams. He thinks it was a gift from a relative, maybe his grandmother? He’s not sure. It has been by his side since he can remember. In stormy shadow filled nights and the first thing he stuffed in his backpack for preschool. A comfort object, that’s what they called it.

And he remembers how much he wailed when his mother took the worn, ragged blanket from his thin child arms when it needed to be washed. How he clung to the long spider-like strings digging into his tender skin leaving angry red and white marks.

His mother would scold him as he sat in front of the washer, waiting. “You have to be more careful or soon there will be nothing left of it.”

Listening to the wet slosh of soapy water he never understood why loving something made it break, made it fall apart at the seams. After all, his mother’s love and gentle kiss could heal any pain. What made his so… rotten?

Standing now infront of his mirror, feeling the phantom shadow arms reach for him- around him- pulling him into the inky black mass reflected in the mirror- being grabbed by the force before him, pushed beneath their will and his grasp on reality slips away- Kouki finally understands what she meant.

I got terminal akafuri brainrot but we knew this :3

[naberrie2024]

Elysium

“Elysium”

The Naberrie lake house was an idyllic place to raise a family. A hidden gem surrounded by water and magnificent plants and trees, in a remote village of the beautiful Naboo. Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself in peace as it happened each time he went there. He felt home and he was blessed to know that the Naberrie family was safe, happy and…

PUM!!

“LEIA!!!”

A realm of chaos too.

“ANAKIN! Just stop teaching our daughter how to built a ship in her room for God’s sake!!!!”, screamed Padme Amidala Naberrie from the spot in the garden where she was painting calmly along Luke.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself. Even if they had changed names to not catch too much unwanted attention, it was pretty obvious that Luke and Leia Naberrie were Anakin’s children. Stong, chaotic, passionate, fascinating and.. a mess.

He walked to the spot where Padme was teaching Luke how to paint when both of them realised he was there. Luke knew first. He could feel the Force strongly and he always knew when Obi-Wan was close by.

“Uncle Ben”, said Luke happily as he ran to his open arms.

He caught the kid in his arms and hugged him. Then, he looked at his 5 years old face. He looked exactly as Anakin as a child. Fortunately, he seemed more quiet, more similar to her mother in that way. And it seemed, he also learnt a bit from himself. He was indeed his uncle and he visited them every week, sometimes, he even stayed for months.

“Master Kenobi”, said Padme with her serious voice. Then, she laughed and Obi-Wan looked at her in awe. She looked so much young than those terrible years of war and fights.

Sometimes Obi-Wan forgot how very young those two have been. Anakin was only 23 when he had to fight against Palpatine. His padawan, his little brother fought with all his strenght saving everyone that day. Anakin Skywalker was only 23 when he ended the sith and brought the light to the galaxy. And Padme Amidala was only 27 when she gave birth just after defending herself from some clones that tried to attack her. How she managed to do that while in pain, only God knows.

The thing was that Anakin grow old quickly after that day. He looked ten year older than his wife. He lost a lot of life energy saving the galaxy from the sith, indeed he almost died. He still remembers Master Yoda bringing Anaking to life in his own trembling arms. He had been in shock, unable to help his brother after seeing him kill Palpatine, he had thought his padawan, his dear brother was dead. But he wasn’t.

God, he was blessed that day and everyday afterwards.

“Milady”, Obi-Wan bowed at her.

She hugged him as she continued laughing.

Luke didn’t let go of his arms.

Nor that he was thinking of letting go of him anytime soon.

He adored Luke so much.

Padme sat again on the soft grass, caressing her long hair and staring at the lake.

“How long are you gonna stay?”, she asked as she continued painting, “Luke, aren’t you going to show uncle Ben what you painted for him, my darling?

“You painted something for me?”, he asked to Luke.

“Of course I did”, he answered just as Anakin used to do.

Padme laughed again and he put the boy in her arms. He kneeled in front of Luke’s painting.

It was his lightsaber and Anakin’s , side by side.

He smiled.

“You’re so good, my boy”, he smiled to Luke, “ You paint so much better than your father used to when he was a child, you know?”

“Its’ for you, Ben”, said Luke, a bit sleepy.

Padme caressed Luke’s hair until the little child fell asleep.

“He’s in Leia’s room”, she said smiling

He bowed at her one last time

“Oh come’on, go to him, you know you’re dying to see him and so is he”, she smiled sweetly at him.

……………………………

Anakin Skywalker, or Anakin Naberrie these days, have lost more than a few years of youth fighting against Palpatine. He lost the feeling of both his legs, so his young brother had to live in a weelchair for the rest of his days. It seemed it didn’t make him angry, just a bit nostalgic about his time as a warrior and pilot.

Obi-Wan regreted it everyday. If he could exchange their places, he would. He would give his last breath so Anakin could breath a second longer. He would give him his legs and his whole body if he ever needed one.

“Anakin”, he said knocking slightly at Leia’s door.

Leia and Anakin were… doing some sort of dance with their arms. Rap or something like that.

“Ts… Ts.. You are the star and I’m just a peasant.. Ts.. ts..”, sang Anakin as Leia danced along his father, both of them sitting on the floor.

“It seems to me you’re unable to build your daughter’s new bed, aren’t you?”, he teased his student.

Anakin looked at him, smiling funny with shiny blue eyes. “Ocean eyes” had once said Padme, the same eyes Luke and Leia inherited.

“Master”

“Padawan”

They both looked at each other. Then, they bursted into laughing. He went to Anakin and hugged him tightly, he kissed his head and he caressed the golden, a bit grey, long hair of his brother.

“How are you doing? Want some help?”, he asked as he sat beside him.

Leia ran to his arms then, hugging him and whispering how much they have missed him.

“You think you can do a child bed with.. the shape of a royal ship, old man?”, asked Anakin as he looked confused at some instructions.

“I think you’re looking at them.. upside down, daddy”

Obi-Wan laughed hard and Leia smiled at them.

Anakin sighed, laying down with his eyes closed.

“Who do you think build your bed when you were a child, brother?”, he asked Anakin as he took some pieces of the bed and started to glue some of them.

“I had a bed with ship form as a child?”, asked Anakin.

Sometimes he reminded him of a puppy. Innocent, naive and childish. And he loves him so much. More than anything else in the galaxy, along with his children.

“Of course you did. Your whole room was like a ship. Your ceiling full of stars and distant planets. The room of a true pilot. I built it of course. I wasn’t gonna ask Mace or Yoda. They would say it’s attachment. Not that they think that way anymore”, he said smiling at Anakin and Leia who stared at him as they usually did when he started to tell a story, “It amazes me, though, that the best pilot in the entire galaxy can’t build a bed”

“It’s not so easy, master!”, said Anakin as Leia decided to sit on his chest.

Obi-Wan looked at them. Leia looked exactly as Padme although her character was… in the middle. Also, she inherited from her mother….

“I’m gonna continue doing my budget for the extraordinary session for my planet”, said the little girl as she got up.

Anakin and him stared at each other in shock.

“Your what?”, asked Anakin

“My budget for my planet. Daddy, don’t you know what a budget is?? Its..”

“Don’t look at me like that Obi, the one obsessed with politics is her mother, not me”, said Anakin as he shook his head, “Not only one politician in my house, but two. My luck”

“It could be worse”, he said as he saw Leia writing down her “speech” as she vocalised each word carefully. She saw them looking at ther, so she got up and went to other room, chanting her speech.

“Amazing”, said Obiwan as he looked still at where she had been just a moment ago

“You enjoy that my children and wife torture me, Obiwan. You’re enjoying it too much”

“Do I need to remind you that I raised you?”, he asked laughing at Anakin, “ Once, you literally, blew a ship when you were 10. I was so scared you had hurt yourself that it took me several minutes to realise you were standing there like a king, smiling because you haven blown a royal ship. Which cost me..”

“I know, I know..”

“And there was another time you…”

“I get it, Obi-Wan, I get it”, said Anakin as he crawled to lay next to Obi-wan, the young man put his head on his lap as he used to do as a child and teenager, “I missed it. I miss flying”

“I know, dear heart”, he said as he looked at his brother’s face. “But what if I told you… I changed a few things in my ship so you can pilot it safely?”

Anakin almost jumped at that.

“You didn’t!!!!!”, shouted Anakin as his eyes shone with happiness.

“I did”, he repeated as he continued building Leia’s new bed.

“PADS!!!!! KIDSSSSS”!!!!! LOOK AT WHAT OBI DID!!!!”

Obi-wan laughed as the whole family reunited in the room, yelling with happiness as he told them how he changed his ship so it could be anakin’s ship.

After a while, Padme went away to help her maids to make dinner. While Anakin and Obi-Wan continued building Leia’s bed.

Obviously, both ended up falling asleep.

When Padme went to look for them, she didn’t have the heart to wake them up, so she took a picture of both of them sleeping, smiling.

Master and padawan

Brothers.

Family

[halsinsbiceps]

A Great and Sudden Change - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 of AGaSC is up on AO3!

I have a request: please comment or shoot me a message if you don't think Astarion's "outburst" in this chapter fits his character. I'm not necessarily sticking to canon, but I want to be faithful to the characters. If people feel like it works, then I won't worry about a rewrite.

Thank you for reading!

Fic below the cut.

A Great and Sudden Change

Chapter 5

"Is that all you’re wearing?”

Enelya looked up from the clasps of her travel robe to find Astarion eyeing her up and down. She held her arms out and inspected herself in the gray pre-dawn light. “Yes? It’s all I’ve got; everything else was lost on that damned thing.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the Illithid ship. Including my new bag of Holding, she thought irritably.

“Darling, we’re all but traipsing into the midst of a goblin horde, and you don’t have a single bit of armor?”

“I don't see you fretting over Gale,” she commented. She slung her quarterstaff over her shoulder and tightened the strap at her chest.

“He’s a wizard. He fights at a distance and has plenty of wards and cantrips to protect himself. What do you have, outside of a frigid glare?” He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. 

“...I have Barkskin."

Astarion sighed and grabbed her arm. “Come on,” he said as he led her deeper into the ruins. “There was a smith somewhere around here. Surely he has a cuirass or jerkin, something to keep that soft little body of yours safe.”

Enelya scowled. “I’m hardly little , or soft, and I can handle myself even without armor.”

“I don’t doubt that, but I also do doubt any of these goblins will let you waltz up to them and twist their arms out of their sockets like you did to Lae’zel.” Astarion began opening and peering into crates.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. She glanced at the sleeping forms across the room. 

Astarion gave her a look that read, My dear, isn't it obvious?

“We are not stealing armor from them!” 

“Do you have any gold jingling around in one of your many pockets?” he asked with a quirked brow. He lifted a jerkin by the shoulders, tilted his head in thought, then discarded it. “Consider it borrowing against your credit.”

“What credit?”

“The credit for saving their skins from a group of murderous druids.” He pulled out a set of simple leathers, regarded them a moment, then held them out to her. “Here. These seem to be about your size.” When she didn’t move to take them, he rolled his eyes. "Gods, you're more stubborn than a rothé."

"And you're clucking over me like a mother hen. I mean no offense, but you don't seem to be the kind of person to care about others." She crossed her arms. "What's going on?"

Astarion shifted his feet, not quite meeting her eyes. He suddenly seemed uncertain, a far cry from his normally arrogant self. Finally, he rolled his eyes and made a noise that was somewhere between exasperation and disgust.

“I actually take great offense at that," he said. "I care quite a lot, if you must know, and not just about my own self-preservation. For whatever reason, you’ve become the leader of this little group. Impressive though your skills may be, that doesn't mean you need to forgo protection, or be some sort of martyr. And if you insist on endearing yourself to every marginalized group we come across, you’ll need to survive long enough to see yourself become a folk hero.” His eyes - an unusually dark red, she noticed - bore into hers. “You’re important ." He held the armor out again. 

This time Enelya took it from him. “Thank you," she said quietly.

As she changed, she considered Astarion's words. Was she truly putting herself in danger needlessly, carelessly even? She didn't believe so; she was simply doing what she could to help others...right? A lack of armor certainly didn't mean she was trying to be a martyr; her own had been in her bag of Holding, and she hadn't truly needed it in weeks. As for her importance…she tightened the final strap of the leather breastplate and shoved her thoughts to the back of her mind to be dealt with later.

She knew better than to believe she was any more important than anyone else.

The armor fit well enough; a bit tight around the shoulders and hips, but she could handle the discomfort for the additional safety. Astarion nodded approvingly when she stepped out from behind the crumbling wall that served as a privacy screen, a leather hood clutched in her hand.

“Much better. Now, before we go…I would appreciate it if we can keep my little outburst between us. We wouldn't want the others to get the wrong idea about me, would we?" He looked at her expectantly, a cool mask settled back onto his fine marblelike features.

She bowed her head. "Of course, Astarion."

"I'm glad we understand each other. Shall we?” He gestured to where the others had gathered to make final preparations.

They departed as the first golden rays pierced the skies overhead. A fine mist hung through the undergrowth of the forest and swirled around their ankles as they walked. Enelya gripped her staff and shifted her shoulders, the leather creaking as it warmed and stretched to fit her frame.

“They’ll be alright.” 

Enelya glanced to her right to find Wyll walking beside her. “Who?”

“The tieflings. I saw you look back as we left. We stand between them and the goblins, and the druids will leave them be. They're as safe as they can be for now. You chose a good spot for them.”

“I hope you're right. The grove would have been better,” Enelya said with a soft sigh. “I probably made things worse for them, truth be told. But thank you for saying so.”

“You're welcome.” 

A pleasant lull followed. When Wyll did not drop away from her, she cleared her throat to speak.

“About that devil. The one you were chasing in Avernus…”

He bowed his head. “Karlach."

"Sorry?"

"That's her name. A powerful devil from the Hells. She's a danger to the entire Sword Coast." Wyll's face was grim. "I have to bring her down."

"Why, exactly? Is it so important that you have to keep hunting her?"

“I suppose in the grand scheme of things, Karlach doesn’t seem like much of a problem. But she’s been terrorizing innocent people and leaving bodies in her wake for the better part of a decade. My…source said she was planning to return to Faerun, and I was supposed to kill her before she could.” Wyll shook his head. “You see how well that’s gone.”

She nodded slowly. “Well, if she’s as dangerous as you say…we should take her down.”

“‘We’, huh?” Wyll chuckled. “You really are a bit of a bleeding heart, aren’t you?”

Enelya felt herself bristle at the comment. “And if I am?”

He shrugged. “That makes two of us. Couldn't walk away from someone in need if my life depended on it. Kindred spirits, you and I."

She blinked, put off by the comment. "I was raised to help where I can. My parents, my Circle, my church all expected it. You must have been raised in such a way as well."

Wyll raised a fist to his chest, a proud smile on his face. "Baldur's Gate, born and raised. Been a while since I've been home…" he trailed off wistfully, then seemed to shake it off. "If you don’t mind me asking, where do you hail from?”

“The High Forest, in Northwest Faerun,” she replied. “I am a druid of the Circle of Tall Trees there.”

“Ah. That explains why there is such an otherworldly air about you.”

Enelya quirked an eyebrow. “'Otherworldly'? Was that your line for Shadowheart as well?”

She heard him take a surprised breath, but to his credit he bounced right back with his own quip.

“Actually I told her her eyes were as green as emeralds glistening in the sun. She didn’t seem to mind the compliment," Wyll replied in a good-natured tone. 

Enelya smiled as well, then. “That’s not bad. A bit cliche, but I’ve heard worse.”

“You've been flirted with a lot, I take it?”

“Mmm…when you’ve lived for nearly 300 years you do.”

“300? You don’t look a day over 130.”

“Oh, very good!" She laughed. "What else have you got?"

"Plenty where that came from, I assure you…but a gentleman can't give away all his secrets."

"Then perhaps a gentleman should not speak." Lae'zel suggested as she overtook Wyll in clanking strides. Her withering glance did indeed shut Wyll up, but he turned to wink at Enelya before dropping back to walk with Gale.

They walked for some while in relatively comfortable silence. Wyll and Gale spoke quietly about their respective powers; Gale made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that wizardry was infinitely superior to other forms of magic casting. The warlock bore the criticism with a patient smile, even if it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Enelya gathered her hair into her hands and began plaiting it out of her face as the sun rose higher into the pale sky. The reverie of walking afforded her precious time to focus on her own thoughts, something she'd barely had since her abduction. The issue of these parasites dominated her concern at the moment. If the one in her head and the one Halsin and Nettie encountered originated from the same place - and how could they not - then she and her companions were still living on borrowed time. More than they had originally believed, but borrowed nonetheless. With any luck Halsin would have discovered something to help them, but luck was in short supply these days.

Which led her to the next concern on her list…the closer they crept to the goblin camp, the tighter the knot in her stomach twisted. She breathed deep, willing herself to focus on the task at hand, yet she could not keep her mind from conjuring scenarios of what it might be like to meet Halsin again. Would he be pleased to see her? Would he even remember her, or care? They barely knew each other, after all.

And yet…they had spent the better part of two days in her rooms in the High Forest, their bodies so intertwined that at times Enelya couldn't tell where hers ended and his began. She could practically feel his large, calloused hands sliding up along her back as he nipped and suckled at her throat, guiding her hips while she-

Her thoughts were interrupted by her hair prickling up on the back of her neck.

Enelya slowed to a halt, noticing they stood on a stone bridge. She tried to focus her hearing on something - anything - but there was only eerie silence except for the rushing of water beneath them.

“I feel it too.” Astarion stepped up beside her, a small crease forming between his brows. “Death.”

"There." Gale pointed across the bridge.

Several bodies of varying sizes lay at the end of the bridge. A man sat slouched on top of a crate nearby, staring down at them. As they approached he looked up from beneath a pile of brown curls.

“Aradin?” Gale sounded surprised. “What happened here?”

“Well, if it isn’t the foul blood lovers.” The man scoffed. “Damn gobbos ambushed us. Wiped out whoever didn’t get killed at the keep. 'cept me.” He nudged one of the bodies with his foot. 

Enelya took in the carnage. Several goblins and a few adventurers lay dead. “You were the ones with Master Halsin.”

Aradin rolled his eyes. “Gods, if I hear that name one more time…Yes. He run off and got himself killed, and we got nothing to show for it 'cept this scrap of paper." He waved it around in his hand. "Gold's not much use when you're dead, is it."

"What were you trying to find?" 

"Some hot-shot wizard in Baldur’s Gate hired us to find this Nightsong. Dunno what it is or what it does, but he'll pay through the nose for it. Couldn't get in when we was with the druid, couldn't get in now. And now I’m headed back alone." Aradin sniffed as he ran a thumb under his nose and hopped off the crate. 

Enelya moved forward, hand raised to stop him. "Can I see that missive?" she asked.

Aradin all but flung it at her; it fluttered lazily to the bloodied earth. "Have at it." With that he walked away without a second glance.

Enelya bent to pick up the paper, now damp with blood at the seam. "Pleasant fellow," she said drily. "I thought he stuck around after they got back?"

"Oh, no. Zevlor gave him a blow about the ears and they ran off as soon as he could see straight." Gale’s words were tinged with sadness. "He's not much more than a kid, really. I hope he makes it home."

Enelya hummed noncommittally as she squinted down at the paper in her hand. "Lorr-oak-an? Does that name ring a bell, Gale?"

He took the missive from her and scanned it with a frown. "'The Recluse of Ramazith's Tower'…yes, I've heard of him. Mostly that he's a bit of an ass, but that’s no surprise. Most wizards are not as humble as myself."

Over Gale's shoulder Enelya noticed Astarion and Shadowheart exchange a wry glance, while Wyll hid a smirk behind his hand as he pretended to yawn.

"I've never heard of this Nightsong, however," Gale went on. "Surely you cannot call something a "storied artefact" when no one has heard of it."

“No one, in this case, being you,” Astarion said with a smirk. 

While Gale floundered to produce a comeback to his jab, Astarion continued. "Even so, we have a lead on a bit of treasure someone will pay handsomely for," he said. "Once we figure out this tadpole nonsense, maybe we can all work together to find it and split the reward, hmm?"

Shadowheart snorted. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. As Aradin said, gold is no use if we’re dead. We should press on.” She strode ahead.

“Shadowheart is right, much as it irks me to say it,” Lae’zel said as they followed the cleric. “I am eager to rid myself of this ghaik parasite. I have my doubts about this druid’s abilities, however. The only true way to cleanse ourselves is to use a zaith’isk .”

“Now, pray tell, what is a zaith’isk ?” Gale asked, his retort seemingly forgotten. They passed into a deserted town as Lae’zel explained the healing instrument used by the Githyanki. Shadowheart stopped walking suddenly, her eyes focused overhead. Enelya stopped as well and followed her gaze to find a goblin peering down at them from the rooftop of a nearby building. She slowly slid one hand behind her back to grip her quarterstaff.

“Looks like we’ve got some company, boys!” the goblin called. A handful more goblins popped out of the windows and doors of the building. Enelya could see five in front of them, and if the shuffling behind them was any indication, there were at least three more flanking them. Lae’zel and the rest of the group had fallen silent, readying themselves for a fight. 

“What’s yer business?” the goblin called down. As they spoke, a strange symbol over their left eye began to glow. At the same time, Enelya felt a surge of confidence flow through her, striking down any feeling of uncertainty. She felt powerful. Authoritative. The tadpole squirmed in her head, and she felt her body relax significantly of its own accord. Curious, she leaned into the feeling. An unseen force seemed to take control of her as she stared the goblin down.

“We need not explain ourselves to the likes of you.” Her voice rang out boldly with words that were not her own. “You will let us pass.”

The goblin immediately cowered before her authority. “I-I’m sorry, True Souls!” they exclaimed, their eyes wide and fearful behind their helm. “Please, make your way in peace. You will find our leaders at the ruined temple, just that way.” They pointed west, through town.

Enelya led the way, not sparing the goblins another glance. The authoritative sensation waned, and as they reached the center of town, Shadowheart grabbed her elbow. 

“What was that?” she asked. The worry in her eyes was evident.“That… power . Did you feel it?”

“I’m not sure,” Enelya admitted. “It definitely came from the tadpoles, though. I let it direct me, and they just bowed down.” 

A sudden, sharp pain pierced her brain, as if someone had stabbed her in the temple with a white-hot ice pick. She gasped and clutched at her head. Shadowheart reached out to steady her. 

“What’s wrong?”

The pain lingered as Enelya straightened, blinking away the shadows at the edge of her vision. “I…I think it bit me.”

Shadowheart’s eyes narrowed. “We must be careful,” she said softly. She extended a hand and cast a healing spell. The pain in Enelya’s head dissipated. “Whatever this thing is capable of, it comes at a cost. It could be speeding up the ceremorphosis.”

“She’s right,” Gale said, a troubled look on his own face. “We should avoid using this power until we know more, at the very least.” 

"That's not our only problem," Wyll said. He had drawn his weapon and was turned to face the north, leading away from the path the goblin indicated. "Karlach is here. I can sense her, that way.” He pointed with his rapier. “We need to kill her before she can wreak any more havoc."

Enelya shared an uncertain look with Shadowheart, then eyed the sky. It was still quite early; they'd made good time. Surely a quick detour to dispatch an Infernal threat wouldn't take long. She gave a quick nod, and Wyll's face lit up as an almost giddy grin spread over his face.

"Excellent! Follow me, and be careful."

Astarion muttered under his breath, but followed the group.

They made their way out of town through a large oak door that was hanging off its hinges. Wyll stopped for a moment, taking in his surroundings. Suddenly he turned and focused his gaze on a barn not far from them. He gestured for the others to follow as he began to slowly approach the building. 

As they neared the building they each drew their weapons and fanned out. Wyll continued to take the lead, creeping closer to the door so he could open it. Enelya could hear movement inside from where she stood near a window, and hazarded a peek inside just as Wyll reached the entrance.

What she saw gave her pause. 

A large Tiefling sat in the middle of the barn, curled into a ball with her knees pressed to her chest as she breathed heavily. She was wreathed in flame. A low, anguished moan escaped her as she threw her head back. Enelya saw one horn was broken off; the other curled back and away from her face.

Wyll kicked the door open with a bang .

Karlach hardly reacted, only shooting him a pained look. "Fuck me," she said with a shaky laugh. "You found me, then.

" Advocatus diaboli, " Wyll said as he stepped into the barn. He held his rapier steadily in front of him. "Now you meet your end."

Karlach opened her mouth to quip back at him, but instead grit her teeth as flame flickered anew around her body.

Enelya slipped around the corner of the building and entered the barn herself.

"Wyll, wait. This is no devil."

Wyll spared a glance in her direction. "You see what I see, Enelya. Look at the flames. This devil was in the front lines in Avernus. She's Zariel's right arm! I must take her down."

Suddenly Enelya was knocked back as her senses were assaulted by a connection to her tadpole. She could see the planes of Avernus stretched out in front of her. A war axe swung wildly as she fought, her eyes scanning the red skies. Sweat poured from every pore, steaming into her eyes and down her neck and back. In her chest, her heart ground out a mechanical beat.

A flash of light, and above her was a ship, all writhing tentacles and smoke pluming from its sides. She didn't think, just reacted; sprinting towards the craggy cliffs of brimstone, the Blade of Frontiers not far behind. A single thought rang in her mind over and over.

My way out .

The connection snapped.

"I'm not a devil," Karlach whispered hoarsely. She struggled to her feet, clutching at her chest. "I was sold, sent like a horse to slaughter, and forced to fight." Another wave of flame flashed over her. She grimaced. "But go ahead. Kill me. I'd rather die than go back to Avernus."

"Good news for you, then." Wyll flourished his blade and stepped forward. 

Enelya stepped in front of him, locking eyes with him.

"Wyll."

He glared at her. "Enelya, move."

"You know this is wrong."

"And you don't know what you're asking me to do. Please," he whispered. His voice was strained as he searched her face imploringly. "My source…my contract is unforgiving. I must do this."

She shook her head. "She's innocent. A victim of the Blood War. Can't you feel that? You saw her memories. She's infected. And…she’s a tiefling, Wyll. Not a devil." 

Wyll looked past her, at Karlach, who had gone quiet and still. Hesitation and fear were written plainly on his face. Enelya reached a hand out and pressed her palm flat against his blade, slowly lowering it.

Wyll finally withdrew his weapon, only to fling it to the floor and toss his hands in the air. " Shit! " He spun, kicking a bucket across the room and running his palms over his braided rows of hair. Then, without another word, he stormed out of the barn. 

Enelya released a shaky breath and bent to pick up Wyll's rapier. Then she turned to Karlach. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

Karlach nodded. "Yeah. Pretty bad, too…" She lifted her hand to reveal a gaping wound in her side. Blood trickled freely down her hip. "Not exactly helping my ticker," she said with a short laugh.

Enelya frowned, unsure of what she meant. Either way, she needed a healer. She moved to the door. "Shadowheart?" she called.

"I'm here." The cleric appeared in the doorway. "What do you need?" Then, seeing Karlach and her bloodied body, she moved to her side, hands aglow.

"Wait!"

Karlach's warning came too late as Shadowheart laid her hand over her wound. There was a sizzling sound, and Shadowheart screamed as she pulled her hands back, reeling away from Karlach with red, blistering palms.

"Oh my gods, I'm so sorry!" Karlach's eyes were wide with horror. "I'm burning too hot, I didn't mean for-" 

"It's alright. Te curo ." Shadowheart’s hands were bathed in a soft blue glow. She held them up to show Karlach, her skin healed and smooth. "See? All better."

Karlach let out a relieved sigh. "Still, I'm sorry. Something's up with this thing; it's been acting up since I got out of Avernus." She pounded on her chest. There was a metallic thump and a strange grinding sound. "Doesn't help I've been run through, though. It's working overtime. Do you have a potion or something?"

Shadowheart murmured again, casting her hands in Karlach's direction. The tiefling sighed happily as the healing spell washed over her, watching with interest as the hole in her side stitched together gently. The flames surrounding her ebbed until none remained. A distortion still rippled the air around her body, but Karlach’s shoulders relaxed away from her ears as the grinding noise stopped. 

"Thanks. That's a lot better. Still hot, but I'll take it." 

Gale, Lae'zel, and Astarion came into the building. "All well in here?" Gale asked, glancing between them. 

Enelya nodded. "Yes. For now at least. Where's Wyll?"

"Gazing despondently into a chasm, at the moment," Astarion said. "I feel the same way. This was horribly anticlimactic; I'd hoped we'd finally kill something. " He eyed Karlach up and down. "So this is our newest charity case, Enelya? You're certainly gathering all the strays you can find."

Enelya ignored his comment and turned back to Karlach. "You look like you can handle yourself. Want to come kill a bunch of cultists?"

Karlach stared at her, a bewildered expression. "What, just like that? I mean… fuck yes, but…you know nothing about me. What if I'm actually a devil in disguise and I slaughter you all once your backs are turned?" She waved her hands around her head and widened her eyes dramatically.

Enelya's eyebrow arched with amusement. "Are you?"

"Nope!" Karlach grinned.

"Well then, that's settled." She turned to the others. "Make sure she's got what she needs. I'm going to go get Wyll, then we're heading out. No more delays." 

Gale gave a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am!"

Enelya paused briefly to stare at him. "Please don't do that again."

He nodded sheepishly and lowered his hand.

She turned on her heel and left the barn, scanning her surroundings as she went.

She found Wyll at the edge of town, indeed staring down into the abyss at the churning river below. She quietly came to stand beside him. 

"The call of the void?" she asked. He looked up at her

"Somewhat. If I throw myself off this cliff it might prove to be a better end than what I have coming."

"Care to tell me more about this deal? The contract?"

"...I can’t, I’m afraid. I'm sure all will be revealed soon enough, though. Don’t worry."

"Alright. Well, until that end…" She held out his rapier. 

He reached out and took it from her. Before he could pull away, she laid a hand on his.

"While you draw breath, you have purpose." She caught his gaze and held it, squeezing his hand meaningfully. "The Blade of Frontiers has a lot of saving left to do. And besides…do you really trust the fate of the Sword Coast to those ruffians?" She nodded her head back towards the barn, her eyes glittering with mirth.

He smirked back at her. "Gods, no. Thank you, Enelya." He considered her for a moment. "This…isn't your first time leading, is it?"

She hesitated before releasing his hand. "No," she replied. She paused again, unsure of what else to say. The truth certainly wouldn't do; not as they were staring down a keep full of goblin cultists. She needed them to have faith in her. So she kept it at that, offering him a tight-lipped smile of her own. 

"Ah. Well, keep your secrets then," he teased. "Gods know we all have enough to go around."

They met the others at the barn, then took to the path once again. They went back through town and across another bridge, ignoring the jeers and curious looks from the goblins stumbling around. By the time they reached the main gate of the defiled temple, Enelya was feeling beyond anxious. There were goblins everywhere, and their group of seven wasn't exactly inconspicuous as they tramped along through the mud. 

"Hold up!" Yet another group of them guarded the gate, flanked on either side by worgs. Their leader stepped forward, his green-yellow face a smashed mess of features. He peered up at her. "Can't just wander in here. We're celebrating a raid. Gotta wear our war colors," 

The same mark from earlier glowed on their faces, and with it, that same overwhelming feeling of confidence. Enelya eyed the group - six goblins spread out along the wall, and two worgs. They could take them easily…

She hoped.

"What color would that be?" she asked, crossing her arms.

He pointed at a fresh pile of worg dung with a smug smile. "That right there. Perfect shade."

Enelya glared at the goblin. "You can't be serious." 

He smirked. "You wanna get in? Gotta get dressed up."

Enelya hesitated, then stooped to scoop up the warm dung with her fingers. She heard several groans from the group behind her.

"Can't help noticing you're not wearing any yourself," she commented.

"Don't have to if you was part of the raid. Now." He gestured to her face, an excited smile splitting his own. "On ya get."

She hefted the dung in her palm for a moment, considering its weight. The stench alone was enough to make her stomach turn and her eyes sting.

Perfect .

She focused on the tadpole; it wriggled as it effortlessly linked to her companions'.

Get ready .

With a flick of her wrist, she flung the dung into the eyes of the goblins. At the same time, she swung her staff off her back and through the air, connecting with the leader's head with a sickening crunch . He collapsed into the mud without so much as a whimper.

Astarion rushed past, daggers glinting in the sunlight. " Finally !" He slit a goblin's throat as he passed, making his way to the platforms surrounding the wall.

The quiet morning erupted into chaos.

The air sang in Enelya's ear as Karlach brought her greataxe down into a worg's head. Gray chunks of brain splattered into the air. Then Karlach pulled her axe free and swung again, this time taking another goblin's head clean off.

 A shout came from behind her. Before she could even turn, three Magic Missiles and an Eldritch Blast shot past her and practically eviscerated the other worg as it lunged at her. Gale and Wyll both let out whoops of victory. 

And just like that, the fight was over. Enelya heard a gurgling death rattle as Lae'zel pulled her sword free from a goblin overhead. Shadowheart was making sure everyone was alright, but the only injury was her own twisted knee from slipping in the mud.

"Right." Enelya wiped gory bits of bone and brain off her quarterstaff with a worg's fur. "That went well."

"Definitely," Astarion drawled. His eyes were alight with excitement. Enelya had a sneaking suspicion that he was a bit bloodthirsty.

"Are we all good?" she asked. She pulled her leather hood free from her belt. "We should keep moving if we can. Shadowheart, is your knee alright?"

"It's fine," Shadowheart replied breezily. "Not even worth using a spell for."

Enelya nodded, then twisted her braid into a knot and dropped the hood over her hair. "Let's go."

Through the gate and around the wall they went, their weapons sheathed but eyes peeled for trouble. Ahead of them the temple loomed. They could hear the driving beat of a goblin drum from within. 

Enelya wondered, as they began to cross the final, broken bridge to their goal, why this seemed so easy. 

Then the world went black.

[lichfucker]

OKAY I got tagged by @narastories and @hms-tardimpala and @ginnie-darling and @scififantasies so I'm finally doing the g-ddamn meme. thank u I love u all

3 ships:

ingot/z'ress. sorry but if you think the little guys from my own dnd game don't take up 85% of my available brain space at any given moment... I mean. have you MET me. I think abt z'ringot more than I think about my actual brother

silverflint. we are in the shit of it, lads

and I think if I didn't say trent/ted I'd be accused of perjury. sorry women 😔

First ever ship: I think the last time I did this I said it was artemis and holly from artemis fowl but actually I DIDN'T want them to get together I thought it was too obvious. so. g-d it was probably smth from hp. NO. WAIT. ohhh my g-d no I think my first real ship that I really cared about was a couple of my and ven's ocs when I was eleven. scream. I've always been Like This huh

Last song: eros and apollo by studio killers

Last movie: music and lyrics (2007) w the sunder server 🥰🥰 lowkey been listening to the soundtrack on repeat lmao

Currently reading: I just finished treasure island last night!!

Currently watching: great question. what AM I watching. dimension 20: neverafter and some "how to play pathfinder" videos

Currently consuming: raspberries, though I'm sure this question is intended to ask after media that doesn't fall under the categories of "reading" or "watching," which at the moment for me is nothing? I'm super behind on dndads and I've kind of fallen off naddpod entirely

Currently craving: anything that doesn't make me sick dear g-d please let me have something that doesn't make my body feel fucking atrocious. I'm craving my top surgery (less than two weeks!!). I'm craving a new tattoo. I'm craving the spoons to id all the posts in my drafts. I'm craving someone I can swallow whole and who will chew me up in kind.

uhhh people to tag. okay. how abt @gendercents @puckgoodfaggot @army-of-bee-assassins @paladinbaby and @grasslandgirl

[ella-norah]

I was tagged by dear @sasblr. Thank you 💖

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to AO3. (Sort by date posted.) If you have less than 10 fics posted, post what you have!

Not that it is any surprise, but all of them are LITA. Considering I only posted LITA works, along with one LITA/Not Me crossover, I knew it would be like that. Most of them are PhayuRain focused, but not all.

Let Me Love You - PhayuRain, reverse ages - older Rain and younger Phayu, Rain & Saifah as siblings

When Rain was little, his younger brother Saifah and his best friend Phayu followed him around, playing pranks on him. But Rain has grown up, and so have Saifah and Phayu. One day Rain sees it too.

How Two Becomes Three - Phayu/Rain, Rain/Saifah, Phayu/Rain/Saifah, this is a gift fic, just a plot bunny I had to chase

We saw Saifah walk in on Phayu/Rain more than once in the show. This is my take on what would happen if he stayed.

Sve se dešava sa razlogom - Phayu/Rain, extension of the monster contest fic, starts like a original story, it's not though, curses

Curses are often thought of as a fairytale, as a fantasy. But for Rain it is a reality, one that he cannot escape. Truthfully, it doesn't bother him. Most of the time. One day he meets Phayu, and things start to change.

Liberty Talk - Chai/Saifah, another gift fic, blogging, articles, falling-in-love

Ever since he broke up with Ootkheam, Saifah was broken. After some research online, he discovered that some people write things like that on some blogs, as it helps relieve the pain. After some time he decided to do the same thing. And one day, Chai stumbled across it.

Kindred Spirits - Phayu/Rain, a gift fic again, Rain as author, Phayu as his biggest fan

Rain is an author who wrote a book, and one day, his reality start resembling it.

The Reunion - Sean/White, Phayu/Rain, LITA/Not Me crossover, working on it together with @glamgoblin, there are more ships here

White and his cousin kept in touch while he was in Russia. Then he comes back to Thailand. Or what if White and Black were cousins of Phayu and Saifah?

Something New - Phayu/Rain, impact play, bottom Phayu kinda

Rain says with a smirk of his own. It’s their game, the teasing, and they both love playing it. “Hmmm, yes, we can. Do you want to do it today?” Today isn’t an option he expects, but he will gladly take it. Luckily, there is no need to prepare much. He nods enthusiastically, and Phayu hums at his excitement. “Alright, darling. We can do it now, if you want. Do you want it now, baby? Do you want Phi to teach you how to do it?”, Phayu says as his eyes darken slightly. It’s an obvious sign of his arousal.

Listen to Your Body - Phayu/Rain, sickfic, sick Phayu, Rain and Saifah take care of him

Phayu is getting sick, but he doesn't want to admit it

Kiss Me Slowly - Phayu/Rain, birthday picnic, fluff

Rain wants to make the best birthday surprise for Phayu.

Everything Happens For a Reason (contest version) - Phayu/Rain, original story for the monster fic contest, curses, there is a witch too

It's the same story, but still so different. Rain has always been different. It was something that followed him all his life. He was different from others, but not in a good way. He was cursed. And one day he met Phayu.

Tagging - @glamgoblin, @nongailani

If you want to, you are of course, free to ignore this post.

[marinerainbow]

Hey hey!! I have some Jumbo asks for Poppy, if you want to? If not that's absolutely okay!! Also I've chosen one from each section and thats a lot so if you wanna pick and choose which ones to answer that's also perfectly good! ^^

💋 📙 📀 🍐💙 🍆 💗

Also

Oh my god, Wicked, I'm absolutely grateful for these! And the hug! Thank you so much, and I will absolutely answer all of these! And don't be afraid to send too many, honestly being able to answer asks like these give me life and I kept thinking about this at work today. If you want to send in more, I'm more than happy to answer them (though don't feel pressured to do so either) ^^

There's going to be references to my favorite ship with Poppy in this (I can't bring myself to say who I ship her with. But you know exactly who I'm talking about Wicked-), and Roger and Jessica if they were her family since they'd be the closest she'd have to family (I'm not sure if I'll make it canon that Poppy is Roger's cousin, but I'll still mention them since it's fun). So we're in for a long post boys and girls.

And of course, for you, a tackle hug!

(Also the fact that you asked all those in the order of the rainbow just makes me smile, idk why, it just does ^^)

💋: How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying affection? Why?

When it comes to family and friends, she's plenty affectionate with them. She'll hug them, hold their hand to comfort them and/or herself, etc. Her romantic partner gets all that times ten; She'll cuddle up to them, give them pet names (the classic ones, like sweetheart, honey, dear, darling, etc), the entire package. She loves her family, friends, and romantic partner, and she is not at all afraid to show it.

She absolutely loves PDA, and will not be ashamed to show others how much she loves her S/O, though she is more of a 'formal' affectionate. For example, she'll hold her partner's arm, give them a simple but sweet peck on his/her cheek, basically she may not be all over her S/O, but it's still obvious she loves them. Same goes for when they are alone together, though she's a bit more openly affectionate then. And it's not just physical, she'll get them a gift if she can afford it, tell them through words how much she loves them, help them with anything they need, etc. Basically she's down for all kinds of affection. She can't hide it when she's in love. (She'll hold herself back if her romantic partner wants her too though).

📙: What kind of subjects (of conversation, of discussion, in school or whatever) does your OC find interesting or engaging or something they can talk hours about? What kind of stuff do they just find fun?

What bores your OC to tears and they couldn't care less about? Why?

Plants and insects. She absolutely loves talking about them and what she knows. Even the more creepier facts, like how long it would take for a venus flytrap to digest a fly, or how much venom a black widow spider carries. She also loves talking about literature and history.

She absolutely does not want to hear any gossip or true crime. She has no interest in what celebrities or her neighbors are up to, and she doesn't want to hear about real life horrors in the world.

📀: How easy is it to shock your OC? To confuse them? To lie to them, to manipulate them? How are they with feelings of trust? Can your OC be trusted?

To shock Poppy? Not a whole lot. Especially if it's a scare type of shock. To confuse, lie, or manipulate her? That is also pretty easy unfortunately. If she loves someone, familial, platonic, or romantic, she'll trust them whole heartedly. She's not dumb or blind, she'll notice suspicious behavior, but she'll deny it and brush it off. It would take either someone forcing her to face the facts or the liar to do something huge like physically hurt her or someone she loves before she comes to terms with what's really going on. And even then, she'll spend some time wondering if she could have done anything different to change what happened, and pin the blame on herself.

Whether she's trustworthy? Oh absolutely. I would trust her with my own life if she was real. Even if she just sees it as common courtesy, she'll do whatever she can to help her loved ones out and keep them safe, even if it would be sacrificial in some way to herself.

🍐: What is your OC's mentality? Are they overall positive? Negative? A bit of both? Describe their thought patterns and reasoning behind their choice making!

It really depends. She'll be positive for other people, even if she has to force it, but with herself she's very negative. Some days, her whole mentality is just negative and it just winds up splashing on others. But there are days, especially as she gets better with herself, that she is just a ray of sunshine.

Poppy worries... Alot. She'll try to do her best, but then wonder if her best is good enough, she'll want to take a nice stroll out, but then wonder what could happen while she's out, etc. So she's constantly questioning herself. Her partner would be able to help her relax more, both because he reassures her, and because she trusts him and feels safe with him.

💙: What did your OC want to be when they grew up and why? Did they have any lifelong dreams or ambitions they never got to work on or are they currently achieving this dream? Has their life taken a very unexpected turn and put all these plans on hold for a while or have they given up on any dreams?

Honestly, I can see Poppy wanting to be a history teacher. When she learned the job title, she wanted to get a degree herself and teach others. Not to mention the fact that since she was made in the early 20'th century, that technically makes her a part of history, who better to teach the past then someone who was there to experience it? However since she was drawn for horror cartoons, she couldn't pursue that career choice. And now that her studio is shut down, she has to take whatever job she can get just so she won't be homeless, so her dream is on the back burner for now.

Another dream though, is to start a family of her own. Even though being a first time parent is daunting, Poppy still wants to have kids with her romantic partner. She wants the peaceful, tranquil life, away from the dangerous streets of downtown, with someone who loves her as true as she would love them. That hasn't been accomplished yet, though hopefully she'll achieve it someday.

🍆: Tea or coffee or hot chocolate? Sweet or spicy? Fruits or vegetables?

All three, but situational. Tea is when she needs to relax, coffee is when she needs to stay awake, and hot cocoa is reserved for holidays and special occasions (or if she just feels like spoiling herself). Side note, she'll also drink alcohol, but only rarely and in small increments, like on new years or during a wedding, something that's like a big celebration.

She'd honestly cry if she ate something spicy, and possibly hurl if it was spicy enough. So she'd prefer sweet.

She likes fruit just a little bit more than veggies. Though it's barely noticeable.

💗: What would your OC say is their best feature? Why? What do their friends/family/loved one(s)/people they know think is their best feature and why?

Poppy thinks her best feature are her ears. She does appreciate having good hearing, even if she does momentarily regret it when something loud starts up near her.

Roger (if he was Poppy's cousin) can't pick just one thing about her he thinks is her best feature. I doubt he can easily find flaws in anybody he likes, and even then he still focuses on the good parts. He can and will be anybodies hype man.

Jessica (is she was Poppy's in-law) would think her heart was her best feature. As a toon who faces plenty of judgment and harrasment for simply being drawn a certain way, she appreciates how understanding and compassionate Poppy is. However, Jessica also recognizes that that can be her biggest weakness as well for the reasons mentioned above.

I hope you like these answers! If you have any more asks I'm more than happy to answer them!

[scoundrels-in-love]

Let's seeee, some ships for the bingo. I bet someone has already sent the obvious ones, so I'll try to be different. Let's have vashwood (yes, just vashwood), chosoyuki (it is my right to always send this one), moros/melinöe, farcille aaaaand Laios/Marcille >:3

Hi sibby bibby, your word is my command.

Vashwood (didn't need to clarify<3)

They're so. Everything. My doomed darlings. I will save you, in at least few of the universes.

Chosoyuki

It's BINGO time, motherfucker. Arguably crackship, but honestly, they have more canonical lines/leanings than some of the more popular ships in this cursed choice of media, SO.

Moros/Melinöe

I need a little bit more before I go completely feral about them, maybe a good fic or two - those always do a good job of dragging me into the port of the ship. But I really like the premise and what can already be woven.

Farcille

This is based slightly on Manga spoilers and so forth, but they're Powerfully Messy Autistic Lesbians, it is canon. I'd pick 'if something happens to them etc.' but we both know that'd be futile LOL.

Laios/Marcille

I am gripping some folk's shoulders and telling them it's okay to not let heteronormativity/amatonormativity win. Some people can be close friends, family even, without the connection being romantic. Even if I didn't ship Farcille, even if the media wasn't coded with Farcille, and she wasn't his sister in law, I wouldn't ship these two, sorry. Their relationship IS very dear to me, but in most platonic deep bond way possible.

Send me a ship?<3

[seonghrtz]

𖤐ㅤ 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. ๑ 𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗷𝗶 !

サンジ + femreader ! sanji finds you in the kitchen in the middle of the night. ／ fluff kitchen counter makeouts & “aw, are you blushing?”.

The Going Marry rocked calmly in the mysterious waters of the ocean, from side to side, like a baby's cradle. The cool climate and gentle motion were the perfect combination to relax and recharge for another day of adventure. It was a pity that the dry throat was an obstacle to sleeping through the night.

Even with your feet covered in a thin sock, you could feel the cold wood of the floor as you got out of bed and tiptoed out of the room, afraid to make any noise. The ship was plunged into complete silence, with only the waves and the breeze singing a lullaby to the crew. And you certainly didn't want to be the one to disturb the peace.

Arriving in the kitchen, you quickly grabbed a glass of water and drank it, not wanting to spend another minute away from your comfortable bed. Your plans were interrupted, however, when you noticed a slender figure in the kitchen scraps. As you turned around, thinking that perhaps it was just your mind playing tricks on you, you held back the urge to scream in fright as you bumped into something.

"Oh darling, you scared me"

"Sanji?" You looked up to see Sanji smiling openly.

Ah, that (beautiful) smile... That smile certainly made you feel strange things inside.

"For a second, I thought it was Luffy trying to break into my kitchen."

"I just woke up thirsty." You looked away, too embarrassed to make eye contact with him.

"Oh! Shall I make you a special drink, my darling?"

My darling... His darling... Even though it hadn't been long since you had joined as an official member of the Straw Hats, it had been long enough to realise that Sanji couldn't stand to be around a woman without flirting. Flirting seemed to come naturally to him, without any effort on his part. It wasn't any different with you, just as it wasn't any different with Nami. But sometimes, deep down, you wanted to be Sanji's darling. But that dream was too big, so you tried your best to take Sanji's excessive compliments and flirtations as just a little friendly banter.

"No! No thanks, I already had a glass of water!" You smiled embarrassed and tried to move to leave the kitchen, but Sanji's presence in front of you, just a few centimeters away, prevented you from moving. "I think I'd better go back to my room..."

"Are you sure you don't want anything else? I can do anything you want, just ask. Anything for my favorite."

"Your favorite?" Your voice trailed off.

"Of course!" Sanji smiled excitedly, "I thought I made that clear when I gave you the necklace."

Ah, the necklace.

The aquamarine necklace that Sanji gave you a few weeks ago for no apparent reason. The necklace he said would suit you perfectly.

"I thought it was just a gift from a friend."

"Oh dear, you're so bad at reading signs," Sanji laughed weakly.

"What signs?"

"I guess I'll have to be more obvious then."

Sanji's right hand went gently around your waist, sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you in, eliminating all the space between the two of you. With his left hand, Sanji held your chin, making you look at him.

"Aw, are you blushing?" Sanji's comment made your cheeks blush even more, if that was possible. "If you don't want to, please stop me."

You looked into Sanji's eyes and noticed a different sparkle that you had never noticed before. Sanji slowly moved closer and the next thing you knew, his lips were on yours.

The feel of Sanji's soft, warm lips against yours made you give in to the kiss instantly. In blind steps, Sanji led you through the kitchen, pinning you against the wall as he kissed you.

Ow, that was incredible! The feeling was divine! How could Sanji be perfect at absolutely everything and still kiss magnificently? At the same time as you were happy about the beating Sanji had taken for flirting with other girls, you felt sorry for them that they never had the chance to know how good and addictive Sanji's lips could be.

"Your lips are sweet," Sanji smiled breathlessly, leaning his forehead against yours.

"This isn't a dream, is it?" You closed your eyes and felt Sanji's breath mingle with yours.

"If it is, this is the best dream I've ever had!" Sanji's hand cupped your cheek and his thumb gently smoothed your skin, "You're perfect, my darling. Can we do that again?"

"I don't see why not" You smiled openly before you felt your lips being taken by Sanji's again.

Yeah, maybe your dry throat wasn't exactly an obstacle for you, but a little help.

© seonghrtz, 2023. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@sinisterexaggerator

EXCUSE ME WHILE I SIMP FOR YOU FOR A HOT MIN, OKAY? OKAYYYY.

I'm probably gonna reach that point where I'd be annoying you with the constant high praise that you deserve for writing fics that shouldn't be classified under 'beautiful' or 'excellent' anymore. They're just a proper fix for every mood I have at this point.

Now that I actually have watched a few episodes with the context since snippets could only do so little, plus the headcanons you have any pretty much all the info I get about Hondo (and the others from you), the consistency is so addictive!

I'm massively impressed because you get it done. It being the story; the fun concept, the play on words, the portrayal — just precise and meticulously picked. I mean you could write anything of Hondo with your knowledge of him and it'd be just a fic, but what you do is isn't that. The plot flow of events and how you write them in a steady progression, almost preemptively hindering anyone from picturing the next scene no matter how you know, as the reader, it will very much lead to it.

Immersive AF and not just because it's a blorbo I now apparently am obsessed of. It's the little details that get me so hooked; rings to pocket, them not being for hers, the subtle plans but not giving it fully away (Hondo double-crossing is predictable but that's the thing, you made it not so), among others.

And you the end. OH MY GOD. I have not stressed this enough.

I am an absolute tart for clear endings. Either cliffhangers or just the proper end of the story. A hint of ambiguity in spite of it being obvious. You could have ended it with Hondo just walking away with the ship worded like so, but no. No, no, no, no. the focus shifts on reader as if to let that whole experience linger; simmer and be savored like oh my god, Syn.

In other words, I love you and you seriously fuck me up with your writing and I worship you ♥.

You are my Banaka fix. Because I did check out a few fics in Ao3. The standard is yours imho.

FUN FUCKING READ ♥

“I couldn’t help but notice you have exquisite taste. The artist truly captured the subject’s dashing good looks, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”

I'm so in love with how cheesy, confident, and vain he is ♥ without coming off as an annoying prick. This is absolute charm right here!

“I only hope I can live up to them,” he demurred.

He won that round. Nothing beats flirty banter than ... well, being Hondo I suppose xD Humble brag sweetheart xD !

“Careful, darling, I cannot control what might become of me if you keep doing that.”

asjdaksdlasjdkajdlakjdlakjdakjdhajd OKAY.

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT PART I'M ON BUT I SEE POUTING AND SAD BOY OLD MAN ACTING AND I AM DYING OKAY?

I DON'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING COMPREHENSIBLE OVER THAT TEASING SCENE OF JUST .. SIGH. FOOLISHNESS MISSMA'AM — ALL SACCHARINE SHENANIGANS!!!!

He made another set of motions; he removed several of his rings, oh, but they weren’t for you. Not yet. They were safely put away into his pocket.

e//////////////////e Just pointed this out so I'm just gonna say this is absolute fan service to me and I just... fuck. I said it before, I'mma say it again, Syn. I'm a simp for your writing and ideas. I'm gonna die by you jfc.

That’s when you heard the click.

Give me one night Hondo Ohnaka lover please?

Title: Trust me 

Summary: Hondo Ohnaka sits at Maz's Castle on Takodana contemplating his many misfortunes and his strife. The Clone Wars have ended, but that does not mean his troubles have - that's when he sees you, and you are staring at his portrait. Perhaps the night will fair better than the day, but that all depends on you.

Notes: This is my first time writing a Hondo x Reader! I normally write for Cad Bane and Shriv Suurgav! I have ideas for more already! ;D Comments / reblogs are appreciated!

Hondo is slightly depressed and a little subdued in this fic - at least at first. It takes place after the Clone Wars have ended/during the Rise of the Empire Era and after Skragg has stolen his possessions/the loyalty of all his men. He has lost everything, so he is out of sorts. One thing though, I could not give up the inclusion of his coat.

PS: The portrait that I mention is "canon" and can be seen in Star Wars: Battlefront 2 at Maz's Castle hanging on the wall.

Word count: 5.5+

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for smut, fingering, face-sitting, cunnilingus, penis in vagina sex (consensual and gentle), multiple orgasms, light-bondage, and role reversals/switching.

[ AO3 ]

______

“Cheer up, friend! It can’t be all that bad!” Maz Kanata said. The Weequay sitting at her bar was mopey; his head was downturned as his grey eyes studied the bubbling liquid within his tankard. He shifted to gaze at her beyond a set of wide rimmed goggles - they were apart of him like so many other things that adorned his person – all stolen.

“Everything’s gone, Maz. What could possibly be worse than that? My starships; my treasure; my crew; my men, my Kowakian monkey; my most prized possessions! Even all the women! First the Separatists, the Empire, and now that nefarious traitor, Gwarm!” Hondo Ohnaka sighed, reminiscing on his past life. He had been the most feared pirate captain in all the galaxy, his Ohnaka Gang renown from the Core worlds to the Outer Rim territories.

“She even stole my name!” Now he was nothing; a nobody; just a Weequay without a home. The only things left to him were the golden rings bedecking his ridged fingertips - his Deservrar battle helmet -  his signature coat taken from a nobleman. These items he did not give up. The clothes off his thick-skinned back were his only personal effects. That, and a few meagre credits.

“Well, you could be dead!” the small woman quipped, observing his long face from beneath a pair of unique spectacles. Hondo thought she had a point though loathe to admit it to himself with the way he felt.

“Yes, I suppose you are correct. At least you have a most handsome painting to remember me by when the inevitable happens.” He raised his mug in the direction of his self-proclaimed graven image, sure to be fawned over for generations, even after the pirate himself had finally met with Maker, though perhaps Maz would still be around to tell his tale.

That’s when he noticed you; you were beautiful and staring at his portrait. His eyes lit up with a little spark of something; you ignited within him a flame of hope as he contemplated all the possibilities of what this could mean for a lonely man like him, but only if he played his cards right…

“Excuse me, Maz.” Hondo stood abruptly, sliding across his barstool. He smoothed out the wrinkles of his crimson coat as he straightened to his full stature. He took a breath, regained himself, or at least a part of him. He brushed one braid back behind his armored shoulder as he reached deep within to retrieve his pomp; his brass; his old confidence, approaching you from the rear – and what a rear it was.

He admired you before bothering to say a word – vuluptous. You wore an unembellished dress, tightened around your hips by a belt lined with varied pouches. You sported a cropped jacket, open, to reveal a deep rent of cleavage; your boots were worn, your hair was down there appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary except for your uncommon comeliness.

He moved to stand beside you, Hondo folding his arms behind his back as he clasped his hands. He stood transfixed as he stared at his own portrait before his beguiling voice filled the space between you; it was lacquered with a façade of gentleness; nobility, artful in its expression, yet Hondo was far from an aristocrat – even scoundrels could have manners - his mother taught him well.

“I couldn’t help but notice you have exquisite taste. The artist truly captured the subject’s dashing good looks, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”

You were aware of who the man was beside you - you had seen him earlier talking to the sole proprietor – he was on your radar before he ever noticed you, and his advance only made things easier. You mulled over his egotism - should you try to break it just for fun? Should you finesse yourself into his favor as he expected you to do? The potentialities were endless, you could create entire alternate realities based on a few scant words. Oh, but Hondo didn’t know you were that cunning, or a woman who could match his level of crookery and craftiness; you were dangerous.

You decided to buy in.

You didn’t face him but pretended to be unaware of who the Weequay was. You tipped toed forward to get a better look at the portrait or feigned to. “This particular Weequay’s eyes are captivating in their ability to entrance you. They are warm, yet mischievous. There is a twinkle of something hidden within their alluring depths - he has secrets, and he is unwilling to share them with me.”

A smirk was toying at the corner of your lips - you thought that might do the trick – you had chosen your words carefully so as to flatter the man’s self-esteem.

“What do you think?” you asked the pirate with your back still turned. You were giving him the perfect opportunity to make the moves on you. He better make it good.

Hondo Ohnaka smiled deviously as he adjusted the right cufflink of his striped tunic, more to give his hands something to do as he waited an appropriate length of time before responding to you. His reply held a modicum of effervescence, his syrupy voice laced with vainglorious arrogance, yet you would not deny it could easily hold sway over you if you allowed it to.

“I think you are astute in your observations. Perhaps you would enjoy looking into those eyes in person? It might be prudent to test your hypothesis before deciding one way or another what kind of man this Weequay really is. He might pleasantly surprise you.”

And here it was - the time for you to put on your charade - test your acting skills.

“And what would you know of that, Mister…?”

You turned to face the speaker; your gasp was wholly believable. You faintly touched your chest in a mock show of surprise.

“Hondo Ohnaka, at your service.” The knavish devil bowed, sweeping one arm forward in a featly twirl as it came to rest across his personage. He rose with a grin from ear to ear, quite satisfied that he had marveled you into such a state of awe.

Your visage changed; you became the knave, though your intentions were to seduce the rascal if it was even necessary.

Your hand along your bosom lightly glided behind your ear as you forged a blush; it quickly got lost in your lush curls. You spun a strand along your finger as you bat your lashes, your words dripping with licentious intonations.

“And what services do you offer?” you inquired coyly.  

Hondo reached out for you with his hand laden in golden rings, his palm turned upward as he silently requested the presence of your own within his. You humored him, impressing your fingers along his. Those digits coiled and brought you close with a gentle tug so that he might implant a kiss. His lips were thin, warm to the touch, and soft as silk - they left behind the sensation of a tingle.

“That depends on you love, and what you’re in the market for,”  he retorted deftly.

He disengaged, not lingering more than he thought sensible. You took the opportunity to softly brush your fingertips along his frills before retracting your appendage. The man exuded a small sound of yearning, though he took a deep breath and bit his tongue to prevent himself from coming on too strong. Oooh, you were a wily one…

“I have a few ideas. Afterall, it’s not every day you meet the great pirate captain Hondo Ohnaka in the flesh,” you stated plainly, laying the compliments on thick.

“So you have heard of me – that’s more than I bargained for – though not unexpected.” “Great” was an adjective he was largely fond of.

“Oh, I’ve heard many things,” you japed, taking a step forward, one perfectly trim nail grazing the armor across his shoulder. It slid down, trailing the length of his unique skin between the ‘V’ shape enriched with gilded thread. It was supple, downy, yet exceptionally tough, like a Saurin, or a Trandoshan, perhaps, though smoother, more refined, like the man himself.

Hondo cleared his throat, his charcoal-colored irises catching you with a look that nearly took your breath away from behind his goggles. Instead, he grasped your hand again; he held it still against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat. This simple, yet intimate gesture had disarmed you in totality.

“I only hope I can live up to them,” he demurred.

---

You had coaxed Hondo to your lair, like the spider had the fly, or had he coaxed you? It was hard to tell the difference.

You had rented a room here on Takodana right inside Maz’s castle for the night, and this was the specific reason why. It had a lovely view of Nymeve Lake, though the only view you cared for was right in front of you. You scarcely made it there - you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself – you were explorative, and the pirate hardly protested.

You were surprised by your depraved appetites; there was just something about the man. He had powerful charisma, though he was supposed to play into your hands. He had barely touched you; you were so voracious, and he could not deny it was a boost to his self-regard, not that he needed much of one.

“I appreciate your- mmn.” His words were cut off by your richly hued lips; they anchored against his, unyielding, until you pushed your tongue between his teeth.

The man moaned into your parted mouth, his thickset muscle winding around yours in a calculated set of movements that catalyzed the stirring of your loins. You had pinned him to a wall outside your door, arms and all. His wrists were limp beneath your hands - it was a kind of role reversal that he was used to - the pirate had been the lover of Aurra Sing; he let you have your way with him.

“Make love to me,”  you whispered against his kiss, tugging him forward as he dutifully followed, though far be it from him to try and break your purchase. He was rather enjoying this.

“I daresay, you present a most convincing-”

It seems you would not allow him to finish speaking. Normally he might have sorely hated to be interrupted, but for this occasion it was warranted.

Your hands slipped down below his waistline as your mouths were joined; he didn’t bother to investigate what you might be up to. You had unlocked the door; pushed it open; the other hand kindly ran along the apex of his many frills. The man stopped you there. He clasped your hand with one of his. You let out a small gasp as he benignly berated you for touching them.

“Careful, darling, I cannot control what might become of me if you keep doing that.”

Something happened. Cold durasteel had met with his slender wrist. He heard a click then felt something small, obtrusive, and unforeseen pressed upon his person right afterward. He glanced down to find a palmed sized hold-out pistol fit snuggly against his guts. His skin was blaster-resistant, but at this close range he would not be one to risk a hasty move.

“Your other hand, please,” you requested tersely.

The Weequay hmphed, almost laughing at himself. He did as he was told; he released you and lowered his other arm. You quickly bound him in your binder -; the pouches along your belt were full of an assortment of deadly goodies that aided you in your profession – you were a bounty hunter.

Oh, but this had been hard to do. You were fraught with an internal struggle. You wanted him all to yourself, but you also desired to turn him in for the credits that he was worth - a slighted clan had put a sizeable price upon his head.

The man must have seen something within your eyes, for he spoke to you with cloying sweetness, though his words were tinged with disappointment as he rebuked himself – it was a new kind of game.

“I should have known that you were not truly interested in me. I am but a shadow of my former self, though I do applaud you. You would make a most excellent pirate, my dear. I have never felt so double-crossed.”

He looked sad, downtrodden, and though he was partially, he was putting on an act in hopes that you might drop your guard- make you feel sorry for him – to his pleasure it was working.

His pout; those lowered eyes now bereft of their happy glow. You tried to touch him again, his cheek, but you were shunned. He turned away from you and gazed down at the floor as he sighed out a forlorn breath that hitched, ragged in his throat. You felt scolded as your heart sank; you were moved by his sudden humbleness.

“Please, I beg of you - do not toy with my emotions any further. Let us get this over with.” The hurt was obvious – you had wounded his pride, his undoubtedly fragile ego. You had heard of his many failures, the bad luck he had been dealt; you bit your lip as you studied him.

You spoke without thinking. You couldn’t help yourself. You replaced your weapon as you twirled with him, keeping him trapped between the entrance of your rented room and the outside hall. “Perhaps we can make a deal.”

He would have smiled but he wouldn’t dare to. He kept up his façade; his head never lifted as he quietly told you the truth, conceding to your display of dominance. “I have nothing to offer you except myself.”

He lightly jingled the cuffs that currently confined him. “And that, I am afraid, you already have.”

It had been a whisper; he implanted the idea into your mind without you noticing. He was succumbing to your authority, giving you control over him; it was a boon, and not something many could have ever claimed to do.

You gathered his chin between your index and your thumb; you forced him to look at you. He blinked once, languidly, before his argentine sky-colored eyes bore deeply into yours -  they were the cast of a coming storm - achromatic, but oh-so-beautiful.

“For that I ask permission.”

He never wavered as he looked at you. “Any stipulations?”

“One of your many rings should suffice – enough to cover the bounty that would be owed to me.”

“How do I know this is not a trick? You might decide to take the bounty out on me and the gold.

“You don’t – you’ll just have to trust me.”

He thought it over or at least pretended to. “I accept.”

He brought his arms up, waiting to be freed, a pitiful look etched across his leathery countenance.

“Not a chance. I can’t have you running off on me quite yet.”

“A wise decision,” he stated simply.

---

The Weequay waited with downcast eyes as you undressed for him. He was attempting to be respectful, though he caught a glimpse of naked skin and betrayed you with a glance. You were in your lacey undergarments but the rest of you was bare. You crooked a finger as you beckoned him.

He stepped forward to the bed and you latched onto the center of the cuffs; a length of chain separated one hand from the other. You pulled him towards you; you wanted to devour him with another kiss. You serried your lips against his hungrily. He made the motions, though timid, behaving unlike he had before. You backed away to regard him, your frown apparent.

“Don’t you want me anymore?”

The longer he kept this performance going, the more and more believable it would seem, he told himself. After all, you had never met before or spoken before this night. He was sure his reputation proceeded him, though that didn’t mean you were aware of the many tricks and stratagems that Hondo could seemingly pull out of thin air - his unmatched theatrics being one of them – he could rival your performance.

“You are beautiful,” he informed you, “but I do not know what you want of me. I do not wish to-”

“Hondo.” You ran your fingers along one of his stray braids, fingering the end of it; the hair was wispy; you enjoyed its texture. “I want all of you, or the deal is off.”

“Then all of me you shall have.”

The Weequay kissed you then with balmy passion; his lips were soothing, as were his hands. He had raised his arms, ribbed digits tenderly caressing you even as they were bound, your rosy cheeks finding their way to the center of his palms. His touch was temperate, delicate, as if you were a fragile flower or an expensive work of art; his tongue crept forward to dance with yours if you would so allow.

He placed a knee upon your borrowed bed; he crept forward, coercing you to rest one foot and calf atop the coverlet. His fingers inched back to either side of your slender neck as he cradled you behind your ears. He realized he could have choked you, killed you right then and there with your own cuffs. You seemed none the wiser, oblivious to the danger as his tongue was now full flush inside your mouth.

The pirate decided not to do that, though he guided his cinched hands downward and cupped your lavish breasts. His moans were subdued, quiet, as he carefully massaged your flesh beneath your lingerie. His other knee joined the first; he used a small amount of subtle force to sit you down. He dipped you back upon your pillows the best he could - you fell gradually with his attentive aid - your hair tumbling around you like the halo of an angel; Hondo thought you luxurious.

The Weequay straddled you; he was now in a position of power over you, though he labored not to notice. He would ride it out.

He watched captivated as you undid the hooks, pushing down the straps to reveal your soft mammalian tissue for him to grope and fondle as he so wished. He adjusted his overcoat in an awkward fashion; it was proving difficult. He brushed it halfheartedly away by the point of his own elbow as he backed up, craning over you. He sowed felicitous kisses along your pulse point, your shoulders, beyond your clavicle, and down the center of your chest.

He lingered along your sternum before turning to your bosom, his lips leaving you in the throes of horripilation as the tiny hairs along your arms stood upright out of longing and excitement. He was being methodical, tortuous in his ministrations, his tongue finally extending to ghost your readily awaiting nipple. You emitted a small sound of elatedness as he had presently found his mark – he was good at that.

Your vocalization only seemed to encourage him; he compressed your other breast with the clawing of his fingers. He drove his hardened cock against your lower leg, though it remained hidden beneath his trousers. He sucked your teat with unrestrained enthusiasm as he let his instincts overtake him. He nipped you with his teeth, though very gently. He unlocked and released, not wanting to ignore the other breast. He gave each one attention in due time, leaving behind a trace of moist saliva.

He had begun his descent, though he nearly slipped along your abdomen in attempting a more complicated enterprise. Half of it might have been done on purpose but you would never know the opposite. He paused, looking at up at you from the transparisteel inset within his eyewear. The glass surface reflected the luminescence produced from the only lamp within the room, bouncing back at you. His expression changed, taking on notes of a patient lust, waiting idly as those steely, slanted eyes nearly caused your heart to stop.

“This would be much easier, and a far more pleasant experience for the both of us, if you would be so kind as to free my hands.”

You were nearly persuaded by his salacious mien alone; you were tempted to give in. His voice was honey in your ears; his gaze was hypnotizing. You had reached out towards your belongings where the key was stored before you stopped yourself; there was a glimmer in his pupils that made you second-guess; you had many doubts about the sentient, and this was one of them.

“No,” you firmly answered him. “How do I know you won’t betray me?”

He gave you only what could be described as a wicked grin. “You don’t – you will just have to trust me.”

He bent down from his position and kissed your inner thigh, suckling your skin. He left a tiny placement of broken capillaries in his wake before he adeptly convinced you otherwise.

“Come. Let me make you… feel alive,” he whispered as his hairline mouth wandered further inward towards your still clothed sex. You were undeniability turned on - you had surpassed aroused.

You thought you might regret this, but your desire for him carnally overpowered your resolve as did his lustrous baritone.

You fumbled for the key; you undid the binders hastily. You didn’t bother to replace them, you only left them off to the side as you were still entranced by the Weequay’s eyes.

Hondo rubbed one wrist, evocative of a man who had been subjected to undue imprisonment for a great length of time, though he murmured his approval, smiling all the while.

“That’s better.”

His fingers curled around either side of your underwear; he rolled them down your knees and off your ankles. He dropped them off by the vertex of two fingers in a moment of tomfoolery.

“You won’t be needing these,” he teased.

He made another set of motions; he removed several of his rings, oh, but they weren’t for you. Not yet. They were safely put away into his pocket.

Your breath caught in your throat as Hondo lowered his entire body to match up with your own. You were eye to eye now as he kissed you, and he had sunk two fingers deep inside your cunt without so much as a warning. His other hand ran through your hair, stroking you in a loving manner, his thumb petting you along your forehead as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re already so wet, love. Is it all for me?”

The skillful extremities inside your body’s cavity nestled to the hilt with the help of your excessive slick, their zeniths pressing lightly against the center of your pleasure. He shifted, biting your lower lip as your mouth parted, having been immersed in the  unique sensation in summation.

It was a cautious nibble before his warm muscle encircled yours, his erection riding against your hip. A dulcet whine escaped him, a tone that was most agreeable, for it caused you to peak along with the overwhelming prowess with which Hondo Ohnaka administered his cunning expertise.

You bit back the sounds of your release, refusing to wake the entire castle, though this disappointed Hondo. He was out to get you now.

“The nerve of you,” he scoffed.

You felt each rib of his alien extremities as they left you empty, sliding out with ease thanks to your abundant secretions though not enough for him.

“I want to hear you sing, my dear.”

He crept backward on his hands and knees, delving into your already soaked mound. He spread your lower lips apart with his thumb and index, titillating you with just the tip of his thick tongue across your clit. You squirmed, reaching back to grasp the bedframe as your chest heaved, pressing your lips together as you writhed.

He noticed the fight you gave; he redoubled his own efforts. His entire tongue entered you, sampling your nectar. The pad of his ridged thumb expertly rubbed your bundle of ardent nerves as he fucked you with his mouth, feasting like a starving animal.

You came again, albeit quietly; you were forcing yourself not to scream even as your toes curled inward. You were so overtaken by the depths of your own feelings, your body’s fervor, that you were surprised when Hondo grabbed you by the hips and forced you to roll over.

You found that he was beneath you; he had positioned you atop his face. You quickly readjusted so as not to smother him though the pirate would not have minded. Your breasts hung above his head as you steadied yourself against the bedposts. He moved to clutch your replete bosom so that he could belaud and worship them with both his hands.

The vibration of his vocal cords as he crooned aloud from the taste of you sent a shiver down your spine as it only added to the eroticism of this whole affair. He tweaked your nipples, the little pinch sending a sharp prickle throughout your entire being. He was involuntarily steaming up his own goggles as his nose flared, breathing in your delightful scent and nearly stifling himself against your malleable flesh; unlike his, it was pliant and extraordinarily fun to grabble.

That made three times; you were a little louder on this occasion, unable to regulate yourself as his effective muscle snaked and embedded itself into your sateen couloir.

Your back arched as you covered his hands upon your breasts with your own palms. You threshed in an effort to control yourself, though Hondo strategically placed his knee behind your back, pushing you forward so that you could not escape your orgasm.

Once you had calmed yourself, once the buzz and thrum had ebbed away, you found yourself struggling to breathe but Hondo wasn’t done with you - far from it.

You chirped, articulating your surprise with a belt of air expelling from your aching lungs as he pushed you back upon his lap. He wiped his mouth off before he simpered, asking you a straightforward, yet somehow loaded question.

“Top, or bottom, my dear?”

“Both.”

You leapt at him, kissing him along his face and frills, down his neck and towards his exposed chest. You undid the clasp that held his pants up, then pushed them down far enough to reveal his manhood. It was stout, slightly above average, and ridged like the rest of him, though fleshier than his otherwise hardened exterior. There were extra nodes which looked like they might be fun to ride; no use staring at it, you would never know until you tried.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Hondo noted as you aligned yourself and winded down along his cock. The man himself breathed unevenly as he watched you impale yourself.

“Do take your time, love, you don’t want me to- mmn...”

You didn’t listen to him; you made waves across his member. Your entire body fluctuated as you had become a human sheath, investing your whole self.

Ohhh, and his ribs and crests; his distinctly alien appendage. It felt so good steeped all the way to the end of your vaginal canal.

You moaned aloud, a fourth orgasm building up. He placed his hand along and behind your back, one resting against your lower abdomen. Both of you could feel him behind your velvet walls, the outline present through your skin as he cupped himself within you from without.

“Mm, Hondo…” you sighed out, leaning back precariously on your outspread palms. It only made things feel tighter inside you, allowing the man to further experience every inch of you enwrapped around his phallus.

“That’s it, darling. Slow and steady,” he serenaded you, his praise in that husky voice veneered with ambrosia, auditory, and nearly making you cum all on its own.

This time you vocalized. It was heavenly. Your voice most assuredly soared beyond the door and throughout the castle’s many halls.

Just as you thought you might recover, just as your body settled down, Hondo latched onto your waist and flipped you with the utmost care still imbued within your already twitching cunt. He smiled audaciously, eyeing you with obvious pretension as he casually reminded you of your previous rejoinder to his query.

“That makes four now, doesn’t it? But who’s keeping count? Let us not forget you wanted both.”

He plunged his groin into you, although laggardly, forcing you to feel every stroke of him inside you; it was almost excruciating – in the best possible way. One hand came up, carding; combing; brushing your flaccid strands away from your eyes and forehead as he gazed into yours with his of silver, his tongue finding yours stationary inside your mouth as you saw stars.

That’s when you heard the click.

You were so overcome with zeal;, so bewitched and enchanted by this Weequay’s abilities and well-honed skills, that you never saw it coming. He had locked one cuff around your wrist as you were steadying yourself from aloft, having already made it easy for him. He dragged your arm further upward as he wrapped the chain around the wooden railing, though he was mindful of not hurting you.

You tried to fight him off, but another orgasm was overtaking you. It gave him time to bind your other hand in the same manner leaving you entirely trapped and at his mercy, yet his languorous, indolent caresses never ceased upon your innards, even as you hummed his name.

You were now locked between yourself and the bed itself, the chain wrapped around the frame somewhat loosely, though it fastened both your hands in place.

Once finished, he occupied himself on what really mattered; your pretty accentuations as you came for the fifth time that very night. You didn’t have time to think about what you might have gotten yourself into; his pride would be through the roof.

He pumped harder into you, his hips picking up their pace. He was near himself, though he didn’t want to be presumptuous. He rocked backward as he made his own sounds of jubilation; you knew he was planning to escape. You wanted to feel his seed within you; you were well protected of your own accord.

“Cum inside me,”  you commanded lightly.

He did as he was ordered throughout a series of euphoric gesticulations across his handsome face. He had never even bothered to undress; he still wore his coat; his goggles; his boots and all. It seemed ideal for the situation - the one where he ultimately two-timed you - a quick getaway was his priority.

He was expended; he lay there atop you for a moment. He brushed his fingertips across your lips. You both didn’t move for several minutes until the sound of jingling durasteel invaded the lingering silence. He smirked at you before he rose, stood, and readjusted, cinching the buttons to his trousers.

“I suppose you can only blame yourself for this,” he noted, brushing a mote of something off the sleeve of his crimson coat.

“Trusting me, that is.”

His eyes returned to yours; that impish grin still present at the corner of his mouth.

“I have to say – despite everything - you have lifted my spirits! To feel so desired by a beautiful woman, even knowing it was for the bounty on my head, to remember that I am worth something - credits, your undying devotion - made it all worthwhile.”

Your sultry gaze met his as you lay naked, refusing to give him the enjoyment of seeing you upset – to lose your cool would be ignorant of you.

“Glad I could help,” you stated nonchalantly though your voice was laced with sarcasm.

“Ah, more than you know…”

The pirate had moved to stare out over the pristine lake, studying something within the expansive yard. “Tell me, darling… is that your YV series light freighter parked out there? Seems the appropriate mode of transportation for one such as yourself – a bounty hunter, of all things…”

The worry and fear that overtook you for a single instant answered his question better than anything you could have said. You shook the cuffs more harshly as he tutted his reproach at your brash actions.

“I’m in the market for a ship; yours might do the trick, for now, until I find something much more suited to my tastes.”

He came forward then, the sound of his boots echoing across the cobblestone; he stroked your silky locks, frowning down upon you. “Please, do not hurt yourself. There is no need for such behavior.”

He planted one more kiss along your lips before he delved into his pocket and withdrew one golden ring. He inlaid it upon your finger though too big for you. It was his repayment.

“I shall inform Maz you are in a bit of a situation. But that is to be expected, is it not? Cavorting … bargaining with pirates …especially ones you try to double-cross - you’re better than that.”

He waved his fingers at you in a foppish brandish, a flourish by all standards. He crossed the threshold to the now open door; he nodded once, tipping his head to you, then he closed you in. You sighed, for he was right. You had done this to yourself.

But it had been so worth it in the end …

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