#so I hope you ONLY feel anger towards that bastard <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[starstarted]

Le sserafim comeback on my birthday and it's not even the only thing happening today bsnsksksk

[katerinaaqu]

Survivor's Guilt and Survivor's Duty (P1)

Odysseus was hungry. That much he knew. Gods were really cruel with them the days that went through. He had returned from yet another hunt without any success. Not even a single rabbit was visible to Helios’s island. He was already feeling weary and light-headed with hunger; which was why he thought he was hallucinating when he smelt the finest smell of roasting meat he ever met in his life. However it took him no more than two brain cells of his infamous mind to connect the dots and realize what had happened.

“No! Gods no, let it be not what I think it is! Please gods no!”

His legs grew wings as he began sprinting towards the direction of the smell.

“Why did you lull me to that pointless sleep?! Why! It was all to ruin me? To ruin them?!”

He ran with all the strength of his feet to the field only to find what he hoped in all gods he believed in to be a hallucination. He saw what remained of his men from that eventful 3 year journey having lit a fire and roasting a fine cow to the pike, happy and well-fed. In the past days his men just broke. They could withstand hunger no longer and understandably they had only one source of nutrition on that island; those fat, well-kept cows that seemed to be mocking them. Of course his men would do that! Odysseus could not blame them and yet he pulled his long hair in desperation seeing the scene.

“ARE YOU ALL MENTAL? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MINDS?!” he yelled desperately drawing their attention, “I told you not to do that! These sacred animals will be our doom!”

Eurylochus, his trusted commander came forward. His eyes were full of snare and gathered anger.

“Captain,” he started, “did you expect us to starve to death? Not even one little bird was flying around and all the grass in this place turned poisonous for us! We would die anyways! This time we were doomed either way!”

The loud voice of the furious man was cut off from the sound of flesh striking against flesh and then Eurylochus’s head turned to the side. Odysseus was huffing and puffing; nostrils flattering aflame as he gathered his strong hand back.

“You fools!” he growled tears burning his onyx eyes, “you damned fools! This was a test! A test for our faith and we failed! We failed miserably! Haven’t you learnt anything? Insulting the gods is never a good idea! We should rather die of starvation than this! The gods will show no mercy on us now! We are doomed!”

“You would know of that!” Eurylochus suddenly bellowed beyond himself, “You doomed us all, Odysseus! If you haven’t done that we would be in our country by now! These three years happened because of you!”

This time it was a punch that stroke his cheek, not a slap. Eurylochus fell on the sand but he had no time to breathe for Odysseus grabbed him by the shirt lifting him up to his feet again. The comrades rushed there to grab him (oh they remembered his rage the other time nearly cost Eurylochus his life!) however Odysseus was almost as unmovable as a statue at that point. His face was red with fury.

“I tried to save us all!” he yelled, “Ungrateful bastard, I tried to save us all! I faced the beast that could have eaten us all! After everything I did for you! I-…”

He stopped. He shivered from top to bottom. Eurylochus was right. All had happened because of him. He had insulted Poseidon by blinding his son; he was arrogant enough to brag about it…no, even further back; Troy fell because of him. So many men died because of him. Ten years they fought a brutal war; they had endured the weather, the living conditions, the battles… More than 600 men started and finished the war with barely any loss…and now…less than 3 years out in the sea and… They started 12 ships and now they were one…less than 40 men left in one final ship…and all was initiated because of him…he could not deny it. He found no words to defend himself. Gradually he let go of Eurylochus, who wiped the blood off his lip with his fist. He noticed his men had gathered around to separate them from each other but it didn’t seem necessary anymore. The comrades had let him go, noticing he was almost limb in their arms. His onyx eyes were bottomless. No, it shouldn’t end like that! He had committed hubris to save his men and he doomed them, he had forced himself to bed a woman for one year after gods requested to rectify it and yet here they were again. None of the sacrifices seemed to be enough to wash that sin away. No, he couldn’t let them die like that! He had to try! He had promised he would repent! He had to save them before that happened!

“Gather up your stuff, men!” he ordered, eyes still shadowed by his hair, “We must go as soon as possible!”

“Go?” Polites asked, “Go where?”

“At ANY land!” Odysseus whispered, “Anywhere but here! We must offer a sacrifice of some kind! We must wash away this hubris!”

As he turned his back at them –oh he couldn’t face them now!- Eurylochus stood up and looked at him with eyes resembling knives.

“Should we take the rest of the meat too…Captain?” that word was almost spat like an insult, “Or shall we hope Poseidon will grace us with a meal?”

Odysseus winced. Eurylochus; his brave and loyal friend; the type of person that sure, didn’t tell him always nice things but he was always honest with him and always told him some things that needed to be said; now he seemed gone; All their adventures and torments had hardened him, killing his old comrade and giving him  in his place a bitter, hateful man who could understand no longer the difference between insolence, disrespect and honesty or couldn’t care less to tell them apart. Odysseus couldn’t blame him but at that moment he found his transformation disturbing and concerning. He glared daggers at him. The mention of the meat of the slain animals made even his mouth water. He was hungry too. They wouldn’t survive without food and yes, Poseidon sure wouldn’t allow them to fill their bellies with his fish given the situation and the sea birds even if they graced them with their presence, which he doubted, were inedible and poisonous. Gods forgive me, he thought, but I am just a man!

“Damn you!” he cursed under his husky breath, “Take what you wish! If we survive this, pray to all gods that I will forget this because by all gods one day I’m gonna kill you!”

He could hardly remember the process but he knew they were on their way again; so fast and so hastily inside their last black ship in the openness of the Mediterranean Sea. If it was in his hand, Odysseus would have stayed close to the shore but of course gods were cruel for yet another time as Helios’s magnificent isle lay in the middle of open sea. He had no choice but to head for the sea and hope for the best. He knew there were lands close by; if they could reach them… For six days the trip was uneventful and his comrades had as provisions the meat from the slain animals to feast upon. Even Odysseus had to admit he had tasted the magnificent flesh of the animals, for he could withstand hunger no more. However six days of such a trip and he was always expecting the worst, which never seemed to be coming. His nerves just broke. It was the seventh day of their journey; still no sight of any land and still he hadn’t spoken a word. He was staring at the endless blue of the wine-dark sea and he didn’t speak a word. He could sense his comrades’ tension in the air; he could almost cut it with a knife! And yet, Odysseus could not focus on that. Polites looked up from the deck towards him and then towards Eurylochus who still had his cheek swollen.

“He’s so lost in thought…” Polites commented

“He should be!” Eurylochus replied bitterly, “He might be our king but sometimes he has a lot of nerve to talk to us that way! It was HIS hubris that brought us to this position!”

“Now that is both unfair and blasphemous to our king!” Polites replied

“He is no god for me to perform blasphemy!” Eurylochus replied as a matter of fact

Polites sighed.

“We have our own share of responsibility, you know! If we hadn’t opened that damned sack we might have reached home as well!”

Eurylochus winced at the reminder of Aiolus sack. Yes, that truly was their mistake. They got overcome by greed and distrust.

“And, besides, what Odysseus said is true. You and I were never there. We didn’t experience the week of seclusion in that hole. Perhaps we would have done the same…���

Eurylochus sighed defeated.

“Yeah…perhaps you’re right. And he DID spend a year entertaining Circe till our comrades healed… However…” his face darkened a bit, “I still cannot shake it off, Polites! It is majorly his fault we ended up like this! And he DID keep secrets from us. Or have you forgotten how he kept his mouth shut about Skylla? Six of our comrades dead…and we didn’t even know what was coming…”

“He wanted to spare us…”

“Yeah I am sure he suffered, alright, but we still had the right to know! Perhaps we could have come up with a plan together. Perhaps we could have fought back!”

“Fight back an immortal six-headed dragon? I am not sure how that would have worked but…even if you are right and he should have told us, that doesn’t change the fact that he is here with us now. If he wanted he could have stayed with the witch, Circe and sent us off and we would have no directions and no warnings.”

“He didn’t do that for us, Polites”

“Not entirely, I agree, but wouldn’t be fair to say that he did it for us as well?”

Eurylochus sighed.

“Fine, but seriously it was such a long trip and even longer way… I just want to go home!”

“We all do…” Polites whispered concerned.

Yes, ten years of war plus three years of wandering and danger…more than five hundred good men dead… Everyone could understand the feeling.

“I agree with Eurylochus, though…” said another man, “It was all a big mess that initiated when Odysseus insulted Lord Poseidon. I had warned him that day! I said, stop provoking him! He didn’t listen… We are all paying the price now…”

Polites sighed. Yes, he couldn’t deny that but still it seemed rather unfair to say it was just Odysseus’s fault. If anything, Odysseus was sacrificing many things along the way to protect and save them. He shivered in disgust remembering that he was told he had turned into a swine because he entered Circe’s palace. He felt grateful to Odysseus for rescuing him from such a fate. And yet… He still couldn’t shake that ominous feeling that something would happen and Odysseus’s silence wouldn’t help. Not bearing it any longer he slowly approached Odysseus. He didn’t acknowledge his presence. The silence was deafening. Only the cricking of the ship and the sound of the waves could be heard. There was no land at sight anywhere. It was quiet…WAY too quiet…

“Odysseus…” Polites started, “we…”

“Sh!” Odysseus harshly shushed him

“Please, I have to say it…” Polites insisted, “We were starving we made a mistake but-…”

“Quiet!” came yet another whisper

Polites gulped soundly, opening and closing his fist nervously.

“Odysseus…” he started, “Have we ruined everything…?”

Odysseus looked at him and he seemed ready to reply but then he raised his head sharply towards the sail and then to the ripples of the waves. All color left his face.

“Odysseus…? What is it…?”

“That is Eastern Wind…” Odysseus whispered almost in a panic, “That is Zephyr that is blowing at us! That’s not normal! Not at this time of year!”

He almost jumped from his standing point, suddenly seen afraid maybe for the first time in a long time if not ever in his life before.

“MEN! PREPARE YOURSELVES! STORM MIGHT BE COMING!”

His comrades didn’t have enough time to question if he lost it or not (given the clear skies around them) because in a few minutes the weather changed so drastically and rapidly that people could only suspect a god was causing it. Black clouds filled the sky in a matter of a few minutes and then suddenly the distant sound of a thunder was heard.

“No…” Odysseus whispered, “No…please, lord Zeus no! Forgive us…please!”

Strong winds raised as a matter of seconds and suddenly the deep blue sea turned into a full-fledged storm. The waves rose in angry white foam and the skies were black like coal with flashes of lightning and thunder. Rain followed that was cold and whipping their faces like needles. The men cried out in fear.

“EURYLOCHUS!” Odysseus bellowed on top of his lungs, “SECURE THE SAIL!”

“SECURE THE SAILS!” Eurylochus transferred the order, “ALL HANDS ON DECK!”

The panic galore was not allowing the orders to properly pass however the soul of the sailor cannot be abided by panic! All hands on deck began to work frantically; they commenced running up and down grabbing the chords and the lines, some of them already climbing to the mast to secure the sail. However it seemed the rage of gods was stronger than the determination of men and their burning wish for survival. A strong current of wind torn the sail to peaces sending quite a few falling on the deck.

“LEAVE IT!” Odysseus yelled as a strong wave splashed over him, “BEFORE THE WIND! HOLD ON TIGHTLY MEN!”

As the ship was played around on the waves like a toy, the terrified warriors and tired sailors would be desperately trying to use the rows to turn the ship; do something, ANYTHING to prevent themselves from crushing on the waves. The sail was now torn to shreds; like the cape of a dethroned king, aimlessly whipping against the mast at the strong wind.

“BEFORE THE WIND!” Odysseus kept screaming over the wind, grabbing the line of the sail in a desperate attempt to keep the material from hitting anyone on deck, “ROW MEN! ROW!”

The ship was being pushed mercilessly upon the waves; creaking and moaning against the wind. Three pairs of rows snapped like twigs leaving the ship spinning aimlessly to the winds. The black ship began to tear apart as cracks and gushes appeared to the sides. The deck started taking water both from below and above from the waves.

“SHE’S TAKING WATER!” one of the sailors cried

“REPAIR THE DAMAGES!” Odysseus cried out in desperation running as he was already ankle-deep in water, “WE MUST KEEP HER AFLOAT!”

It was a pointless order and he knew it. No matter how many times they stuffed torn pieces of the sail in the holes it would be pointless. They were already soaked to the bone, they had no way of lighting fire or softening the wax to fix anything. They were just trying to delay the inevitable and they were failing miserably.

“Lord Zeus…father of all mankind and gods please forgive us!” Odysseus prayed again, “Please, we shall repent! Give us a chance! Poseidon! Oh, Poseidon, please give me a chance!”

The disturbing creaking of wood being slowly broken didn’t need much for Odysseus to understand.

“WATCH OUT!” he cried out

Both the fore-stays of the mast snapped like twigs. The mast began to fall in a disturbing creak and collapsed to the stern. The pilot did not have time but to look up at his upcoming doom as the mast crushed him. Even above the tempest the men heard the disturbing sound of bones breaking as his head was crushed and blood splattered upon the stern. The body fell into the black sea, lifeless and soulless. At the sight of that death there was panic galore. No one heard the orders Odysseus was screaming; no one had any mind but to run up and down aimlessly like ants that were seeing their colony collapse. All they could do was scream their upcoming doom. In a foolish hope or rather a crazy need to survive, Odysseus rushed to the half-broken stern, grabbing the remains of the steer; his hands being died with the blood of the pilot.

“No! No! NO!”

He used all the strength of his mighty hands to do something…ANYTHING to steer the ship away the storm. His hands began bleeding out of the effort upon the splints of the destroyed wood.

“Gods no! Not again! No! No!”

The waves were raising the ship to the heaven and dropping it back down like a walnut shell as people were holding for dear life at the remains of their already tearing apart ship. The steer snapped in the hands of Odysseus and fell into the black sea never to be seen again.

“PREPARE FOR IMPACT!” Odysseus cried out, “HOLD ON!”

Therewith the worst came; a thunderbolt stroke the ship and the sudden flash and tremendous sound left them all blind and deaf. Odysseus screamed in pain shielding his ears. The ship cracked from side to side down in the middle; splintering in the winds like it was a pile of leaves. Ears buzzing and his nose filled with smoke from the fiery fire that lit upon the sad remains of the deck, Odysseus staggered to his feet, struggling to get two steps straight, trying to see through the sulphurous smoke (the only thing he could see was his comrades or what was left of them staggering on the ruins of their ship like drunk) when the last tidal wave came to finish the job. The wave must have been as tall as the remains of the ship as it flooded with tremendous force on the deck sweeping everything…and everyone! Odysseus got violently banged against the hull but he watched in terror through his cloudy from water eyes his comrades falling into the water screaming aimlessly for it was the only thing they could do.

“NOOOOOO!” Odysseus could only cry out as he ran to the rim

He watched the bodies of his men almost like small white dots to the absolute blackness; already almost a mile away, sometimes disappearing under the waves at the force of the tempest. Odysseus nearly lost the remains of his wits as he ran about the ship trying to find literally ANYTHING he could use. Another surge torn apart parts of the keel and the mast snapped from it. Odysseus reacted almost automatically as he rushed to the broken ropes and parts of the keel and mast. His hands and thick fingers began working frantically, almost completely unconsciously as water was hurting his eyes and rain was feeling as if piercing his flesh. All his Being was screaming for him to save himself; to survive! However that tiny part of his brain was tingling to him; maybe there are some men who are still alive! Maybe there is time!

“Please Athena! Please Athena…let me save them! It can’t be too late!” he was mumbling as he was securing the ropes so that the two pieces of wood would tie together, “Please, Pallas please! Let me save just one! Please! Let me return home just one! Please! Please! It can’t be too late! I can’t lose them all!”

Yet another thunder from the skies made him jump and then the remains of his favorite ship were torn apart! Odysseus grabbed upon his last raft of salvation. He jumped into the merciless ocean, rowing frantically with his hand towards the direction he saw his men disappear.

“EURYLOCHUS!” he cried out over the waves, “POLITES! ANYONE! ANSWER ME!”

The only answer he got was thunder and wind. The waves were tall like mountains!

“POLITES!” he called out again

Tears filled his eyes as his voice broke.

“SOMEONE!...P-Please! Anyone! Anyone…!”

There was nothing on site…just waves and storm.

“No…” Odysseus cried, “NOOOOOOOO!!!”

Realization was crueler than what he would expect…there was no one…just himself! He cried…he cried loudly as he never cried before.

“NOOO! WHY! WHY! WHY!” he yelled over the waves, “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN-…”

His mind and wits nearly escaped him. He remembered that day before their sail for Troy…there were more than six hundred men…waiting for their dangerous trip…

*

Odysseus was standing before his men; the future fleet that was ready for this uncertain trip. Odysseus, dressed in his fine clothes, his long hair neatly brushed and beard trimmed, was looking at them seriously.

“We are heading for a dangerous trip, my men…” he said, “The road is long and we have no idea how long it will take for us to finish with the holy castle of Troy… If we result in war…there is no guarantee it will end soon…”

His onyx eyes stared deeply within countless others of pairs.

“I cannot lie to you, men…I cannot promise you that we shall all return home safely”

He drew a deep breath.

“However I promise you this; I shall do ANYTHING within my power so we can return home safely! I won’t disappoint you!”

*

Back to the present Odysseus cried. He weakly hit his fist upon the mast.

“No…” he sobbed, “I won’t disappoint you…!”

Six hundred men…they were all gone…disappeared… He began hyperventilating. No, it couldn’t be true!

“No…No, Athena! No Athena!” he cried trying to fist the water beneath him as if it were sand, “No, Pallas…! No… No, my men…! NOOOOO! NOOOOOOOO!”

He yelled till his throat was sore…till his voice was gone…he sobbed and cried tears almost as plenty as the waves of the sea. The storm was roaming around him… There was no one there to hear his lament… His voice was carried around by the wind…his tears were washed away by sea and rain…His body was borne by the direful winds…

Six hundred men had started that fateful journey…

Now there was only one…

Now he was alone.

*

The tempest began slowly to subside and the eastern wind gave his place to a breeze from the south. Odysseus was hanging helplessly upon his supposed raft. The nightly fight with the waves had exhausted him and his tears had long now dried out like the salt in his curly hair. His head was already dropping in fatigue when something made him look up. His eyes widened in terror.

“No…” he whispered

He recognized the location. In his pure terror he recognized the narrow path of Skylla and Charybdis; the passage he had struggled so much to get his men out of; the passage that cost the life of six of his comrades. What was worse…he heard an unworldly moan from deep down the sea. His feet felt the low frequency vibration…and then there was a whirlpool. Charybdis had awakened!

“No!” Odysseus cried out, “No, gods, no!”

The merciless current and the frightening groaning from deep down the sea started drawing him. Odysseus at the edge of his wit began frantically rowing with his hand; desperate in his fear to get away from the deathly current that would suck anything to its path! At that moment he remembered Circe’s warnings;

“You must not be there when she sucks it down; for no one could save you from the ruin not even the Earthshaker himself…”

“I HAVE TO TRY, CIRCE!” Odysseus yelled towards the sky in his panic, “I have to try or else my men’s deaths were for nothing!”

The merciless current though wouldn’t bulge as Odysseus realized in terror his pitiful attempts could never save him from this hellish force. The two pieces of wood that were forming his only salvation were being dragged in the ruthless elix. The water was already foaming when he reached the grotto. In panic he scanned the perimeter. Only then his eyes remembered what his brain had erased in fear; the fig tree! Circe had said there was that fig tree shadowing Charybdis! The massive roots and branches were hanging over him; it was his only hope! With strength only panic and adrenaline could give him, Odysseus pushed himself on top of the last remains of his ship and kicked as hard as he could. He had only one chance. His wounded and red hands grasped for dear life onto the rough branches and thank goodness his fingers closed around them!

“ARGH!” Odysseus cried in pain feeling as though his arms would be uprooted out of his own weight, “GODS!”

His legs helplessly hanging over the abyss were desperately moving trying to find a footing but there was none! His arms didn’t have the strength to pull him up at the tree either so he could only hang and hold for dear life. Odysseus dared to look down and saw in terror the gaping hole sucking in the sea and with it his only safety raft. His wet hands would slip and fall if it weren’t for the sheer determination that held him! He prayed to all gods that he knew and didn’t know that this time, just this time, he would find salvation; that his small raft would be vomited out of that whirlpool otherwise he would be lost… The growling rumble from beneath the watery abyss signaled the begin of the outside movement to what it seemed like an eternity later.

“Please gods…please…please…” he was thinking like a mantra

And then he spotted it! The small brownish outline of his mast and keel. He would have a chance! Fear was biting his stomach as he looked down at the whirlpool vomiting out seawater. He knew he had to act quickly or he would have no hope to swim to his raft in that condition. Charybdis below him seemed ready to swallow him even if she was vomiting out the water. What if she really swallowed him if he let go? What if he would be destroyed by some wave? Odysseus looked and looked and the seconds seemed like eons to his tormented heart that was flattering within his chest. He shut his eyes closed; to not see; to not fear and he made his decision

He let go of the branch.

Gravity claimed his body as he fell to the empty space and within the foaming water. The water was hot; hotter than human body temperature and to the tormented king of Ithaca who was freezing from water that seemed like a boiling cauldron. His ears were filled with the sound of bubbles and the hellish growling of Charybdis. He didn’t dare to look; only he paddled like his life depended on it (and it did!) . The suction force that was pushing him upwards this time was with him. Odysseus felt his lungs burning for air and he nearly breathed in the sea water as he hadn’t got a proper breath before diving in the sea. And he was pushed up and up till he was vomited out of the water and drew a soundly breath. He swam frantically till his raft and grabbed onto it with his wounded hands for dear life coughing salted water; nose and eyes aflame from the salt. He rowed and rowed with his hand almost immediately after he caught some breaths. He turned around towards the OTHER dreadful site.

“If Skylla comes out…I’m lost!” he thought

However the dreadful cave that hosted the monster that claimed the lives of six of his crew remained dark and silent. Nothing came out. Odysseus wasted no time and rowed and paddled like crazy to get as far away as possible from that dreadful area. He didn’t know how far Charybdis or Skylla’s ranges were but he certainly didn’t want to know! That was knowledge that even Odysseus of Ithaca, the Man of many Ways could pass on! After what seemed like a full eternity and when the sun was setting for good at the horizon, Odysseus had covered enough distance to see the grotto from afar. He collapsed onto his mast, drawing raspy breaths till his chest began to hurt. He seemed he had no more strength to move. His hands were full of wounds from the ship and the tree branches and hurt from salted water, his lips were torn from the sea and salt had crusted onto his face and hair. Then Odysseus broke down. He cried silently alone in the middle of the sea; he cried for his men he lost, he cried for his dreams that seemed to becoming fainter and fainter; the dreams to embrace his wife and son and he cried for himself. He had barely any hope to survive. He had no men; sea had claimed them. He had no vessel; the storm had claimed it. He had no food or water; those were gone long time ago. He barely had any clothes on for even those were soaked and already tearing apart from the wind and sea. What was the point to keep going, he thought? What would be the point to struggle? He had slim to no possibilities to escape. He was alone in the open sea without protection in Poseidon’s territory. Any kind of sea creature from the usual sharks till the dangerous creatures he faced so far, could potentially kill him.

“I should have died there!” he thought, “Alas this fate is worse than the death in the ship! This agony! Oh, gods I can’t bear it anymore!”

“You are made to endure, Odysseus…”

That was what his grandfather had told him when he visited him in Parnassus what seemed like an eternity prior; almost in another life. However even the tormented Odysseus had his limits. And now these seemed surpassed. Maybe he should let go; allow the sea to take him and end his torment. Maybe he could meet his family in a few decades in the underworld… Why struggle for the inevitable? And yet a small voice to the back of his head made him think that he could not give up just yet; that he had to keep trying and if the sea would claim him then so let it be written, so let it be done. However he had to try and fulfill the prophecy of Tiresias. He felt like he owned this to the 600 lives that were lost under his command. He looked up at the stars that seemed to have started to form. Yes, he would follow the directions that the night dress of Nyx was pointing at. Finding strength anew, the Man Tormented paddled slowly and steadily away from the dreadful spot…

*

Odysseus traveled once more; this time alone and grabbing upon the last remains of his beloved black ship… The night came cold and he was shivering. By the morning another storm caught up with him and his mast was once more drifted by the huge waves that resembled white top mountains, tearing apart his clothes and his flesh. And yet his hands endured… It was as if his heart and hands combined turned into oak or stones. The Man of many Torments endured. Next day the sun was merciless over his head, sending him almost to the brief of hallucinations and heat as sweat was running down his already wounded body. The night the gods felt pity on him and sent a drizzle rain. Odysseus raised his head to the heavens trying to grab as much of the fresh god-sent water as if that would be enough to quench his insatiable thirst and the burning of the salt. Once a passing seaweed came close to him to which Odysseus made some sort of imitation of a meal for himself. How many times he nearly slipped off his life-raft he lost count…how many times he probably actually fainted on it he could no longer remember. And yet, the King of Ithaca endured…in strength that he had no idea he had. It was as if both his body and spirit had decided he had a duty to survive. He survived the agony and pain as well as the anxiety and fear every time something touched his foot beneath the waves or a passing fish would bite his legs. He had long stopped feeling much.

By night before the tenth day of his painful journey he had collapsed. He didn’t feel the sand beneath his body as his raft finally beached at a sandy beach. He didn’t move as some crab or beach beetle walked over his sea-beaten body. By dawn some hints of his consciousness returned. It was only for a brief second that the rays of sun touched his salt-crusted cheek but Odysseus saw or at least he thought he saw a tall slender figure picking something up from the beach many meters away from him (maybe a seashell). The figure turned towards him and walked there.

And then everything turned black…

~~~~~

Ooookay guys this the first part from my Odyssey story! Poor Odysseus loses everything and gets beached in Ogygia.

Rhapsody 12 must be the most intense or one of the most intense of all the Odyssey and honest the way that Homer describes how Odysseus survived had to be kept as it was from my part!

Poor Odysseus must have passed from all the stages of grief at once!

Now I get extremely inspired by music and soundtracks for my stories. For example the Charybdis description was heavily inspired by the amazing Disney soundtrack for the movie "Dinosaur" with the title "The End of Our Island"

For his eventful journey I was partially inspired by Mozart's "Kyrie" from the Great Mass in C Minor and also the scene from the film "Les Triplettes de Belville" for the battle with the elements especially the storm and all.

For the sinking itself I was inspired by various soundtracks and pieces of music.

For my story I kinda take the hypothesis that Ogygia was in fact the small island of Gozo in Malta

As the other time I shall tag some of my amazing commentors/rebloggers and friends! (again forgive me if I forget anyone)

@loco-bird @aaronofithaca05 @tunguszka20 @doob-or-something @jarondont @prompted-wordsmith @simugeuge @fangirlofallthefanthings @ilov3b00kss0much

[charlescoded]

EBY IM KICKING MY FEET AND SCREAMING IM SO EXCITEDDD I LOVE YOUR FICS SO MUCJ I REREAD THEM ALLLLLL THE TIME (LIKE. MORE THAN ONCE A WEEK) I CAN'T WAIT TO ADD THE HUNGER GAMES AU TO THE LIST AAAAH ILY ILY ILYY OH AND IM GONNA BE SO UNBEARABLE ABOUT NOGITSUNE AU IF YOU EVER DECIDE TO WRITE IT

!!!!!! thank youuu, this is such a huge compliment to get and i really appreciate that you took the time to sent it !!! 🥹

i've spent quite some time talking to alex about the nogitsune au because it's beautifullll, but i haven't written anything for it yet asjdlkf anyway here's a snippet for the hunger games au so i hope you like it <3 <3

-

“Arthur Leclerc.”

Time itself seems to stop. No one moves, no one breathes. Charles stands frozen in his spot, gaze pointed forward, his heart trying to break out of his ribcage. His ears ring.

Nothing seems to happen until Arthur walks past him with his chin held high, back straight, shoulders pulled back. He looks confident, he looks defiant— he looks terrified. There’s a tremor in his hands, fingers clenched into fists to not show how he’s shaking.

Charles stays still. And waits. And waits. And waits.

Arthur climbs up the stairs, onto the podium. When he turns to the audience, his face looks stiff, strained, emotions held back behind a thin veil of blankness.

“Are there any volunteers?” District 8th’s escort asks. It comes out rehearsed, tepid.  

He doesn’t waste any time. Charles raises his hand, calm, collected, his gaze unwavering. “I volunteer as tribute,” his voice is crystal clear, demanding, bordering on forceful.

His little brother finally looks at him, actually looks at him. Arthur avoided his gaze before, unable to look him in the eye as he was called to the slaughter. But now that Charles is coming forward, closer and closer, he sees the tears welling up, he sees the anger.

The fear.

“You’re a bastard,” Arthur hisses as they pass. Their hands brush together. Charles doesn’t reply. He stares right past the cameras pointed at his face, ignoring the complicated feelings in his chest.

Charles looks right at their former winners, at Sebastian Vettel. He’s the only person who’s not only won once, but twice. Sebastian is the exact person who Charles wants help from if he’s going to win this entire thing, the one person in the world he could trust to get him through it all. Charles admires him. Needs him.

Next to him is Coulthard. Charles turns towards the crowd.

“Oh how exciting,” their escort says. His dull, brown-painted lips are stretched into a forced smile. “What is your name, muffin?”

“My name is Charles Leclerc, sir,” he answers dutifully. 

He claps his hands together forcefully. “Familial love, how beautiful.” Their escort gestures to their mayor to come forward.

[jj-5656]

Compromise  With; Anthony Lockwood

A/N: An anon requested angst, and who would I be not to deliver? This one took a while, apologies for the wait. Thank you so much for all the recent love, it means so much. I hope you enjoy.

TW: Descriptions of injury, arguing, suicidal ideation(?), Lockwood being a self-absorbed prick :)

Summary: The one where you and Anthony are at odds, and there seems to be little room for reconciliation. 

Taglist: @sunshineangel-reads @fox-bee926 @helpmelmao @galactidiot  @soupsaurus @nekee-lilac02​ (Tagged ppl who seemed to like my last story, lmk if you want to be removed <3)

       Lockwood isn’t accustomed to your anger. 

Well...That’s not entirely true. You have a bit of a short fuse, sometimes. Accustomed to your occasional irritance, sure. He fancies teasing you, pushing your buttons for the sake of admiring the way your nose scrunches up, how you huff that ever-stubborn strand of hair from your vision. 

This, though. Whatever this is, it’s different. You’re practically seething as you search around the lamp-lit kitchen. Booming thunder and relentless London rain the only noise accompanying your movement. That and the boot shackled around your left foot, which thumps pitifully as you rummage the first aid kit. He feels like a disobedient child sat in the headmistress’ office. Ragged hair still damp from the rain after a grueling mission. One that’s left a nasty gash across his forearm, having been forced into a picture frame in the midst of fighting a vengeful type two. 

George and Lucy had long gone off to bed. A brisk debrief over a final cup of tea before slugging off to their respective bedrooms. Luckily, your bastard of a boyfriend had suffered the only injury. You’d missed all the action considering your current state, though that hadn’t ceased the fierce beating of your heart as you slumped into the seat in front him. Drawing the oil lamp nearer for better light as you motion for his arm. He obeys immediately, silently, face pulled with the kind of tension only present when he’s really worried. 

Good. You honestly hope he’s terrified. Serves him right. Your tense mood is not only due to his ailment, but the lingering frustration from your argument earlier in the evening. 

**************

“Absolutely not. You’re not coming along on any missions ‘til that boot is off.” 

“Anthony, I’ll be alright. I’ve been getting around the house just fine so far!” “You shouldn’t even be on it as much as have been.” He’s got the audacity to scoff, almost amused. “More stress will only make the healing process longer.” You cross your arms, looking toward your bag-clad friends for support. 

“We should check on the cab.” Lucy offers a tight-lipped smile as George nods, ushering her out the front door before you can direct your anger toward them.

“You said yourself this case is going to be especially touch sensitive. That the client reported how evasive the problem was. Sight and sound won’t be as useful.” 

“Precisely. Perfect that George is coming along, yes?” Your eyes narrow at his condescension, you’d grown tired of his babying ever since your incident two cases ago. It felt like ages since you’d been in the field. 

“George will be too preoccupied with all the evidence! I won’t even go further than a few feet from the threshold. Just let me get a feel of things so I can-” 

“I said no, y/n. It’s final.” 

“Says who?”

“Says the leader of this company.” You choke a laugh, tossing your bag onto the floor with a heavy thud. 

“Right, yes. The one who makes all the calls?” 

“Sounds about right.” His brown eyes narrow in challenge, frustrated you’re failing to understand he’s only trying to keep you safe. 

“Same one who made the call we go into the Hope residence without well-rounded research? The case we rushed into without enough information and it ended with me on house arrest?” It’s a low blow, undoubtedly. A twinge of wounded guilt flashes across his face before the venom seeps back in. Lump in his throat burning horribly before he swallows it to dissipation. 

“Same one who knows if things go South this time ‘round you’ll only slow us down.” Your stomach twists with the distaste in his tone, vision blurring with tears as he turns toward the door. Jumping as it slams shut and takes him with it. 

********

“Won’t need stitches.” You note simply, surveying the wound gently. He nods, shoulders straightening in preparation for the oncoming pain. “Still some glass debris, I’ll have to take it out.” He’s lucky, from what it looks like the gash could have been much worse. 

“I can manage it just fine on my own.” You bite your tongue. In the year’s biggest plot twist, Anthony Lockwood insists on suffering alone in lieu of his own pride. 

“You can’t. You’re not risking any more damage to the arm that wields your rapier. Just let me.” He doesn’t listen, of course. Pinching the tweezers in his grasp and looming forward to get a better look. Dizzying at the sight, he’s not strong enough to prohibit you from taking them back. Pushing at his shoulder so he’ll relax against the chair. 

It’s not your typical bedside manner. Usually when injuries happen its gentle touches and muttered sorries or other affections. Soft and kind. 

The intruding thought pulls Lockwood’s frown deeper. The throbbing in his arm practically minuscule to the war zone in his mind. It’s awful...He misses you and yet you’re a mere foot away. 

His fist clenches as the tweezers near his skin once more, hand taking hold of your wist to cease the uncontrollably trembling of your appendage.

“Love-”

“Shush, I can do it.” You take a deep breath. Wordlessly combatting your conflicting emotions with slow, calculated inhales. You’re an agent. You’ve trained for this. Though the textbooks help little with the patching up tactics when it’s someone you love, when you’re at such odds.

You approach again, steady this time. He sucks his teeth at the particularly intricate extractions, but remains still for you. You move with as much efficiency as possible. Trying to remove the person from the wound, just as the books suggest. Though it’s nearing impossible with his eyes trained on you. Trying to steal every thought from your mind as if they’re his own. 

When you’re applying sterile gauze after thorough disinfection, he finds the courage to speak. 

“Thank you.” He clears his throat after it falters...From emotion or lack of use, you aren’t sure. Doesn’t matter, honestly. You’re still keen on grilling him. 

“George said you followed it up the stairs without telling him and Luce.”

“I was in a hurry. Wouldn’t have found its’ source in time if I hadn't.” You don't event try to conceal the roll of your eyes. Anger sinking back in as you collect the wrappers on the table and toss them into the bin. 

“So you’re allowed to be reckless on the job as long as nobody else is?”

“Reckless. I’d argue, is an exaggeration.” 

“Exaggeration? Christ, you’re impossible.”

“Yeah?” He stands as you do, holding his wounded arm to his stomach as he leans against the counter. “How’s that?”

“You’re fine with breaking protocol so long as you’re the one doing it. Putting yourself at risk any chance you get without a second thought. It’s maddening!” 

“And how do you suppose you got yourself in that boot?”

“Not by beckoning death! Mine was an accident, Anthony. I swear, sometimes it’s like you want to get yourself killed!”

“You don’t-”

“No! I’m not finished.” You step toward him, jabbing a finger into his chest to accentuate your wrath. “You have people depending on you. People that care about you, love you to bits. And you’d rather spend the better half of missions taunting death than preventing it. If you wanted to be so fucking careless, you shouldn’t have made me fall in love with you. Now here we are, both vexed and in varying casts because of you can’t seem to understand the sanctity of your own life.”

He knew that much had been true. Lockwood would risk just about anything in a case so long as it granted him victory. Hadn’t that been in the fine print, though? Guaranteed in this line of work? So long as you were granted this talent, this curse, you had a responsibility to utilize it to the best of its ability.

“Sweetheart.” It’s strained, nearly a beg with the amount of exhaustion ridden in his tone. “We can continue this tomorrow. Let’s go to bed, please.”

“I can’t,” his knuckles go white with their grip on the cold countertop as you hurriedly wipe at your eyes. “I can’t go to bed angry with you.” 

“Then don’t.” He takes one, two careful strides toward you. Fingers pinching at your elbow in an attempt to satisfy the burning need to hold you. “Let’s forgive each other for the next seven hours. Then you can go on hating me, okay?” You huff a laugh, forehead instinctively pressing to his chest. He bathes in it as long as you’ll allow, pulling back seconds later and headed toward your room with him in tow.

********

Anthony’s eyes follow your frame as you approach the stove. Taking the cup of tea he’s prepared for you and taking your usual seat between him and George. He pushes your chair out with his foot to allow you easier access, nudging a plate of buttered toast your way. It’s not an apology, not even an olive branch. Lockwood simply refuses to cease these small acts of service no matter how angry you are with one another. It’s practically instinctual at this point, second nature. His brows furrow when you let out a relieved exhale once sat. Joining along your accomplices’ conversation about your ongoing case he’s drowned out momentarily in order to observe you.

“It hurts, doesn't it,” he unknowingly interrupts George’s spiel, “your foot.” 

“Only a bit. Just this morning.” It’s a meek defense. An evident dismissal so as not to prove his bench-warming call the right one. 

“You’ve been on it too much.” 

“It’s fine, I’m fine.” 

“You’re not. And if you had just listened-”

“Are we really starting this up again, right here?” Your eyes bore daggers into his frame. Doing your best to conceal your rage in leui of your dear bystanders beside you. Theres a few beats of silence, a moment of peace before the sorry fuck plates the nail in the coffin.

 “George, any word of upcoming cases? The sooner we leave for the day, the better.” Your chair scrapes against the hardwood as soon as he’s finished, silverware trembling as you force yourself upward. 

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” It’s practically a whisper, ridden with rage and overwhelming upset. His brown eyes meet yours, cold and distant. Completely unfamiliar. 

“So you like to think.” He quips, eyes following your form as you exit the kitchen twice as quick as you came in. There’s silence again, impossibly more awkward than before. 

“Dick move, Lockwood.”

“Stay out of it, Luce.”

“She’s right. Real dickish move there.” 

“George-”

“Right. Staying out of it.” 

*******

Lockwood prides himself for a lot of things. Communication, definitively, has never been one of them. 

How’s he supposed to explain it’s easier to put himself in front of the all the danger you face? That the rest of you need each other much more than you need him. 

That he’d rather die than lose someone again. 

He’s quiet as he creeps in, the usual love-lorn quip forgotten as he enters your shared bedroom. You’d been laying in bed, had been since breakfast. You weren’t usually one to sulk, but you were still in pain and definitely still angry. At your boyfriend, this damned boot, the world. 

“Word is your boyfriend’s been a right prick, lately. I’m hoping this can be my opportunity to stake my claim. If you’re cutting him out, that is.” He’s kneeling at the bedside, chin pressing into his forearms as he supports his head. You can feel his heat from here, hate how it weakens your cold resolve. His fingertip traces the skin on your back where your shirts ridden up, a ghost of a small passing his lips when you shudder. You’re pulling up the duvet, ceasing his touch while a trace of you wishes it hadn’t. 

You can’t see any hint of amusement leave his features. The dim of his eyes and the stutter of his heart. He swallows, subconsciously shuffling nearer. The need to be close growing tenfold. 

“Lovely, will you look at me?” Lockwood can’t help but cringe at how desperate it sounds. Whispered, rushed, fragile. Every indication he cares much more than he’s used to. 

He almost wishes he had’t asked. Dread consuming him when you turn to face him, tear stained cheeks and blotchy eyes. Lashes stuck together with moisture, blinking slow and strained. “Darling.” Is all he can manage, wounded and hushed. It makes you want to cry even more. 

“Why can’t you see I’m worried about you?” You croak out, voice strained and scratchy. His knuckles brush the moisture from under your eyes, brows furrowed with an expression you can’t quite read. 

“I do.” He wets his lips, “I see that.” An implication of I see you and I’m sorry. He’s never been good at apologies, but this time you need one. You need something, anything more than the breadcrumbs he drops. The urge to invite him in plagues your mind, broken expression tugging at your heart strings. You know better than to brush this one off, it’ll only have the same conflict arising again and lead to resentment. The realization reforms the burning lump in your throat, vision blurring with fresh tears. 

“I just-we need space.” Don’t we? Lockwood rears back, mustering up resolve he doesn’t have. You don’t mean indefinitely, you don’t mean a breakup, he knows that. Doesn’t make the words burn any less. 

“Okay, fine then.” If that’s what you really want.

He’s grabbing the dog-eared magazine at your bedside before you can say anything else. He hesitates at the door knob, begging to force himself to turn around and plead. Anthony Lockwood’s ego is somewhere near the sun, but its no match for how he feels about you. 

*******

You know when you suddenly become conscious of blinking? And it starts to feel a little odd, manual instead of automatic? You can almost forget what it was like to not have to consciously do it...

Breathing is kind of like that too

At least, that’s what Lockwood thinks when he’s sure he’s suffocating. 

His heart thrums so roughly against his chest he’s sure it’ll burst. He wonders who’d find him, huddled in the corner of the library. Cold and lifeless. He must be trembling, it feels as though the whole ground is vibrating, or-sinking. Swallowing him entirely. 

Then there was the pounding. His head, yes. There’s a dull throbbing at the base of his skull. But this is different. A rhythmic thumping approaching. Closing in on him, eager to push him into the sinking floor to meet his imminent demise. 

You’re in the kitchen. Leaning over the sink, eyes trained on the tap filling up your glass. The bed feels empty without him. And sure, you’d probably sent a clear ‘fuck off to the couch’ message with your latest conversation...But it hadn’t made falling asleep without him any easier. 

You’re taking a deep breath in, preparing for a right pitiful sigh when you hear it. Some sort of squeaking. Your head cocks to the side, discarding the glass in search of its origin. Surely one of the sources wasn’t acting up, that’d be right terrifying when you’re alone. It leads you toward the study, louder and more frequent as you draw closer. 

It’s when you cross the threshold do you see him. Tall frame curled into the corner as hiccuped gasps rack his frame. 

He scoots impossibly closer to the wall as you approach. Dropping to your knees and lifting his face to study him. A foreign sheen of panic clouds over his eyes, sending your stomach turning. 

“Anthony, it’s me. I’m here, I’m right here.” 

You’ve coached him through as many panic attacks as he’s allowed throughout the years. The first time, in academy, you were sure he was choking. A plate of biscuits strewn over the floor as he gasped for breath. 

They’re unpredictable, no matter how many times you’ve handled them. He needs something different almost every time to snap him out of it. Though it’s mostly physical touch. 

“C-cant breathe.” Your boot thumps as you draw closer, eliciting another wince from him. Clutching into the fabric of his shirt as if trying to pull it free. You undo his tie and the first couple buttons, grabbing at the sides of his face in a desperate attempt to get him to focus on you. 

“Anthony please, listen to me. I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it you just push at me, alright?” A curt, gasping nod in understanding before you’re enveloping him in an embrace. Squeezing so tight you can feel his panicked heart thrumming against your chest. It makes you want to cry and scream and hold him even tighter. Willing his pain away with all of your might. 

It’s not working this time ‘round. He can’t seem to collect himself despite your efforts. You pull away, fearing your persistence will only send him further spiraling. But he’s tugging you to him again. Arms tight around your waist as he buries himself into your neck. 

“Dont. D-don’t go. Don’t leave.” The usual cool and collected tone is manipulated to something unrecognizable. Rasped and unsure. 

It’s then you remember the look in his eyes when you’d dismissed him. The abandonment he’s feared his entire life. The little boy who forced himself to stay awake all those lonely nights, just in case he heard the lock turn and the front door open to bring them home. His adamant refusal to ignore your connection for years in lieu of protecting his broken heart. 

“Hey, look at me.” You’re pulling him back by the sides of his hide, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Lockwood, I’m not going anywhere. Doesn’t matter how angry I am,” you wince when he hiccups a sob. “Doesn’t matter how much you try to push me away.” He shakes his head, something short of a disbelieving chuckle passing his trembling lips. “I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here. With you, always. You understand?” He manages to nod, an inkling of solace flashing across his form.

“Just breathe, Anthony. In…and hold…and out” 

Your words sound a mantra in his mind. Your scent flooding his senses, skin on his bringing him back to reality. A morsel of relief prodding its way in as you caress the sides of his face and up into his hair. 

“I’m sorry.” He swallows, focusing on formulating the words. “I know I haven’t said it. Never say it enough.” Shaky arms wrap tighter around your waist, keeping you close. Afraid you’ll disappear despite your affirmations. 

“Consider yourself forgiven.” You bite back a smile when the tension unknowingly spills out of his body. Frame drooping with undoubted relief at the simple words. “I love you. Even when you’re a right prick.” 

“I know.” He pulls you so you’re between his legs. Your back against his bent appendage and your own pair over his other outstretched one. Right side of your body pressing against his chest. You try to push away, unable to fight his affections off despite his weakened state. 

“See? Right prick, you are.” 

“Shush. You know bloody well I love you.” He presses a kiss to your temple, smoothing over your hair and gaging your reaction. Still catching his breath from before. “I know I don’t say that enough either.” He’s quiet then, brown eyes looking to yours with such sincerity your breath catches in your throat. “I’d do anything for you, you know that.” 

“That’s sort of what I’m afraid of, if you don’t recall.” You’re both solemn then. Your fingers intertwining with his in a familiar dance. He can only hum, swallowing thickly. 

“What if,” his eyes rake your frame. Studying you again. “What if you came along the next assignment?” You light up at that, searching his features for jest. 

“Really?”

“Just outside. Making sure we’re all alright. And I don’t go off getting myself killed.”

“But-” 

“Dove.” The nobility in his tone finds him again. A subtle warning. “This is me. Anthony Lockwood, attempting a compromise.” You bite back an abashed smile at his raised brows, urging surrender. 

“Noted.” You fiddle with the cool, silver ring adorning his index finger. “I get to select the case, then.”

“Alright.” 

“And I get to intervene if things go South.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Figured that was ambitious.” 

<Masterlist>

[reasonsmandy]

I know you can't lie to me

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by two anon —¹ can i request an eddie roundtree one shot/imagine where the fem!reader shows up to camila and eddie’s house warming party with a male friend giving the impression that they’re dating when really they’re just friends. eddie gets a little down about it/jealous and it all comes out somehow. maybe the reader says something like ‘by the way, my type is hot bass players in rock bands’ and goes to walk away but instead he kisses her sjsnsns TYSM <3

² can you write an eddie fic based on your “tell me no one can kiss you like i did, go on! i know you can't lie to me” prompt? need eddie saying this line to the reader after a break up or during a fight 🙏

✧.* summary — You and Eddie had a complicated relationship, but love was there more than any other emotion, the hard part was that your misscommunication made everything lead to a big misunderstanding.

✧.* warnings — none

✧.* word count — 1.9k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist!

✧.* mandy's notes — This one was short but I loved it so much, I hope you like it too.

Eddie and you have always been something complex, you've always liked each other since the days when things were simple in Pittsburgh, but there was a pride in both of you that kept you from admitting that feeling. The two of you always had that getaway from rehearsals, making out in the corner of Chuck's garage and then when you moved to LA that spot moved to the vacant rooms at the record company.

But you couldn't lie to your heart, and your heart was lostly given to that bassist, every detail about him held you more in that passion, in that developing love. But you knew, or at least you thought you knew, that Eddie was a man of the world and you weren't the one to make him want something serious.

It was a fact that Eddie hung out with several women along with you, but no one actually knew the real reason, the deep meaning of it all.

Roundtree was madly in love with you since he was 14 years old, he was mesmerized by every little detail that combined you that made you be who you are, there wasn't a single thing that made him lose this image he had about you, you were his everything. But he always thought you didn't see him the same way, especially when you showed up with your first boyfriend all excited showing everyone in the band your new love, he felt his heart break for the first time… he was devastated.

He hated every second that this man spent there in the garage with them rehearsing, he hated just hearing this man's name, and his anger was only proven that day…

You entered the garage with your eyes swollen from crying, immediately Eddie drops his bass running towards you, Warren stops playing looking you out of the corner of his eye and soon the rest of the band stops playing.

"Hey princess, what's wrong?" Roundtree asks, grabbing your hands gently.

You let out a sob, hiding your face in his neck letting out your tears. "He cheated on me."

"I'm gonna fucking kill that bastard!" Eddie felt his blood boil, he would make that guy regret it. "Stay here, I'll take care of this."

"Eddie, you don't need to." You say through your tears, holding him closer to you. "Please stay, stay with me."

Roundtree felt his heart melt, he pulled you closer to him wanting to protect you from the whole world. "I will, but I won't let anyone do that to you and get away with it."

Warren walks over to you, patting your back in comfort. "I'm sorry niña, you don't deserve that."

Eddie waited for you to calm down, and as soon as he left you at home, he headed towards the place that that man would surely be. He was beaten up a lot that day, but he would definitely do it again, he would defend you in every way possible even if he ended up with a black eye.

That's the level of love he feels for you, he would and still does anything to see that smile he is so passionate about on your face. But there was one day that will always stay in his mind, the day you kissed for the first time, the day he felt the most wonderful person alive.

Billy wanted you to practice even though the winter cold was freezing your bones. You were pissed about it but you didn't have much to do, so Eddie arranged to pick you up to go to Chuck's house. He was shaking in front of the door of your house, waiting for you to open it and when you appeared at the door he felt his heart miss a beat, as always you were stunning.

Eddie noticed how you shivered and decided to do something about it. He took off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, pulling you close to him for warmth. As he wrapped his arm around you, he whispered in your ear, "You're like a snowflake, you know?"

You turned to him, a quizzical expression on your face. "What do you mean?" you asked.

"I mean, you're unique and beautiful in your own way, just like a snowflake," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "You have different shapes that always surprise me and make me want to see more of you to know every different shape. And when the sun hits a snowflake, it reveals all its intricate details and the beauty of it's nature. It's the same with you, snowflake. You're more beautiful when you show your true self, every little thing about you is so fucking beautiful."

You felt your heart skip a beat as you listened to him. "Snowflake?" you repeated, a small smile forming on your lips.

Eddie nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, snowflake."

You leaned in and kissed him for the first time, feeling his warmth and love envelop you. The cold weather was forgotten as you savored the moment, it was just the two of you and nothing else mattered.

You never named whatever it was you had, and it left you both very confused.Pride and fear of rejection made you stay only as hookers and nothing more, and it was on lonely nights where all Roundtree wanted was to be with you, feel you close, kiss you, love you… that he got extremely high or drunk, called any girl he had in mind to make him forget you. But no one could make that happen.

Seeing his attitudes you felt like you were just one more, and little by little your insecurities made you take that more and more as the truth. So you decided to move on by force, try to forget him, forget the way he makes you feel, so that's why you were on your way to Camila and Billy's housewarming party with a guy you met a few days ago.

You knew it wasn't right to use someone to make someone jealous, or to use someone to get over someone else, but what could you do? He couldn't be the only one having fun out there.

You entered the house with his hands on your waist, people's attention went towards you and soon the drummer approached accompanied by a woman with curly hair. He had his arm around her shoulders as always with a smile on his face.

"Well look at her." Warren says, with a warming voice. "Who is this guy niña?"

"This is Samuel, Samuel… this is Warren." You introduce them, Warren shakes the hand of the man who smiles at him the length.

Eddie was walking down the stairs with Camila, his mind occupied with thoughts about Billy's recent behavior towards Daisy on TV. As they descended the staircase, Eddie's eyes caught sight of you standing with a man. His heart sank as he saw the man's hand wrapped around your wrist, holding it tightly.

He felt his blood boil as he approached you, barely acknowledging the man beside you. "Hey," he said, his voice laced with jealousy as he turned to you. "What's going on?"

You looked up at Eddie, surprised to see him there. "Oh, hey Eddie," you said, smiling at him. "This is Samuel, a friend of mine."

Roundtree looks the man up and down, ignoring what you say and just nodding. "I'm gonna go get a drink." He murmurs, turning to go to another corner of the party.

Seeing you with another man was the biggest torture in the world, he couldn't see anything but the way that guy held you close to him. He was so pissed that you could see smoke through his ears.

Camila was next to him trying to develop a conversation, which was not going forward since Roundtree did not pay attention to anything she said, when she notices the bassist's distraction she stops talking trying to find what had him so distracted.

"If you like her so much, why not tell her right away?" Camila says, catching the bassist's attention.

"What are you talking about?" Roundtree says, lighting a cigarette. "We only hooked up a few times... That's it."

"Why do I feel like you don't even believe that?" Camila looked directly into his eyes, refuting him.

"She doesn't like me, Cami." Eddie finally turns to look at her. "And nothing will change her mind"

"Are you blind Ed?" Camila says, holding the boy's shoulders. "You've been crazy about each other since I've known you."

Eddie just looked at her, without saying anything. "I don't know, maybe it was all in my head."

"Are you going to get the benefit of the doubt?” Camila asks, looking at you and Samuel across the party. “Are you going to risk losing your snowflake?”

When Camila mentions the nickname he feels a tightness in his chest, he watches you smile at that man and the fear of losing you was devastating. Camila was right, he needed to do something.

He leaves her alone going towards the two of you, the eyes of the duo go towards the blonde who had a closed face, serious expression.

Eddie barely glanced at Samuel before turning back to you. "Can we talk for a second?" he asked, his eyes never leaving yours.

You nodded, feeling a bit confused. Eddie took your arm and led you away from Samuel, his grip tight on your wrist. You winced at the pressure, but didn't say anything.

"Is everything okay?" you asked, looking up at Eddie.

"Who's that with you?" He's direct, his hands never leave his waist as he keeps his face straight.

"I already told you, his name is Samuel…" You start to say but he cuts you off.

"Are you fucking him, snowflake?" He seems troubled, and you are taken aback by his questioning.

"What?" You say, looking at him with shock in your eyes. "Do you have anything to say to me Roundtree?"

"I made myself clear, didn't I?" His voice was low, he watched you intently.

"What's fucking wrong with you?" You were getting pissed, not understanding why he was doing this. "Now that's it, you can date whoever you want and I can't?"

"It's not about that snowflake! I know you don't like this guy." He says, holding your waist.

"What makes you so sure, uh?" You ask, approaching him.

"Does he kiss you the way I do?" He whispers, looking directly at your lips. "Tell me snowflake, I know no one can kiss you like I did, tell me he kisses you the way I do and I'll leave you alone! Go on, I know you can't lie to me”

You felt your blood boil, what the fuck did he want from you? You look away trying to contain the urge to kiss him and end all that fucking scene.

"I'm waiting… answer me." His voice was calm, meek and velvety reaching your ears like a sweet melody.

You roll your eyes. "Fucking hell Roundtree!" you say before kissing him with every desire in your being, he immediately grabs your waist wanting you all to himself, wanting that moment to last forever.

When you pull apart for air, he still has his hands on your face, stroking your cheeks. You approach him, placing a peck on his lips.

"You're right Roundtree, no one kisses me like you do." You whisper in his ear, turning to leave. You stop midway, turning to him once more. "Oh and by the way, my type is hot bass players in rock bands"

The blonde smiles when he sees you leave, taking another cigarette to light. "Oh snowflake, send that bastard to hell and come back to my arms."

You laugh at his words, saying goodbye to your colleague to spend a night with your favorite bassist, finally fulfilling all your desires from many years.

...

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Part 3: No More Waiting

Here is the requested part 3 to Guess I Waited too long. Honestly I just wrote that fic to process my own emotions about episode 13 and did not think I'd get any notice on those fics. I'm so sorry for the long wait! I finally had some reprieve to edit and post but I promise I have been working on it since part 2.

Also that season finale was NOT OKAY!! I cried for a full day so I definitely had to finish this to give myself and others comfort and lots of therapy. After this, I will write quite a few fix it fics if anyone requests them cause that was not on.

I've never really published anything I've written but I would hope this 3 part series gave my fellow Tech lovers a little therapy.

My stories are 18+. Minors begone.

I honestly don't know the word count so enjoy the numberless paragraphs of sex.

Warnings: Sex. Lots of sex. PiV sex, unprotected, NSFW, explicit PiV, crude language, aftercare, fingering (fem receiving), oral (both receiving), just filth. Pure filth

Also Cid is not a backstabbing asshole in this cause she shouldn't have done that to the boys or Omega

Part 1 Part 2

Enjoy you horny bastards!

____________________________________________________________

You had returned to Pabu over 40 rotations ago and you and Tech had been... less than affectionate. Honestly, you didn't mind. Tech was still quite new to the whole relationship thing and you certainly did not want to push him. You loved the man and would be as patient as possible. But Maker were you horny! Why did he have to be so damned attractive? Everything he did just made you think about how he'd feel against you, inside you. He really did not realise how much you needed him.

Phee had returned shortly after you and the boys, successfully clearing yours and their name. Cid was callous and harsh but she could be understanding when she wanted to be. Besides, the Batch were her best assets. She wasn't going to risk severing ties. Apparently the whole reason she'd left them stranded was the Empire had finally made its way to Ord Mantell. She needed time and a way to keep the boys out of the Empire's sight. Easiest way was keeping them away. Course she had to act all threatening; she couldn't risk anyone think she'd gone soft.

"So... it's safe to come back?" Omega asked.

"Only if ya want. If you're happy on where you are, I'll just send stuff your way. It's how I keep Phee invested." Cid shrugged. Maybe she had changed after all. Or Omega crawled her way into Cid's cold heart.

You looked over at Tech, meeting his eyes. You nodded your head over towards the Marauder, wanting to talk to him. He nodded back and followed you quietly to the ship. You were pacing, which confused him. You hadn't mentioned any upset or anger since the mission so to see you anxious worried him.

"Mesh'la? Is something wrong?"

You looked at your man, your handsome sexy man. "Nothing you can't fix my love... I miss you."

Tech cocked his head to the side. "I'm right here. Why would you miss me?"

You sighed and tapped your lips, a small signal to him that you wanted a kiss. "I miss feeling you darling. We've been busy lately. We haven't had any time together.... alone."

Tech smiled, understanding what you wanted. He approached you, hands finding their place on your hips. Touching his forehead to yours, it was a moment of pure love and intimacy. Neither of you could believe how lucky you were to be together and hoped nothing would ever come between you.

"Well cyare, how do you propose we rectify this? Surely the ship is not a place for such intimate affairs?"

You smiled, knowing he was genuinely curious as to how you'd find time. You weren't worried though; Tech was a man of curiosity. You knew he'd do whatever you wanted him to to make sure you were fully satisfied.

“No but that’s definitely something I’d like to do eventually. We shouldn’t rush it so how about we have dinner tomorrow and just see where the night takes us!”

Tech nodded, giving you a kiss. “Sounds good my darling. Now how about we get back before Wrecker comes looking?”

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Dinner was quiet but sweet. Plus the food was perfect; you and Tech had some sort of connection where you two working in tandem in the kitchen was second nature. This caused every new recipe to be perfect and well done!

Cuddling on the couch in your borrowed home, you felt more than content. You really couldn't be happier. After so much drama, it was nice to have a space your own and settle down. You weren't 100% sure what Tech's thoughts were but you knew him and his brothers had been talking about moving permanently to Pabu and honestly? After the shit you dealt with on Ord Mantell, settling down in a bungalow on an island paradise with the man you love was more than what you'd ever ask for.

Tech pressed his lips to your temple, allowing you to let out a small sigh of happiness. It wasn’t often you two had quiet moments like this. You were either helping around town or tech was working on the ship.

You turned your head upward, wanting a kiss, which Tech happily gave. It was clear you two were pent up however as the chaste kiss soon turned heated, tongues battling for dominance. You were quick to straddle your beau’s waist, slowly grinding down on his crotch. Tech let out a groan of lust at your ministrations, wanting more. He went to push his goggles up over his head but you stopped him.

“Keep them on,” you whispered in his ear. “I want you to see me clearly.” You ground down harder, making Tech cry out in pleasure. “Plus I like you with your goggles on.”

Tech nodded quickly. “Of course mesh’la! Whatever you’d like tonight, it’s yours!” His hand came to your chest, gently palming your sensitive breasts. He wasted no time in gently pulling at the buttons, wanting to see more.

It was a beautiful thing, you thought. That you of all people could make the intelligent clone desperate and inarticulate. It made you swell with pride; giving you the confidence to slowly move off his waist and onto the floor. Unbuckling Tech's belt was a task and a half. You always knew it would be cause dear god that man had ALL the pockets strapped to his waist. Buckle after buckle, you eventually became frustrated enough where you sat back and started pouting.

Tech chuckled, leaning forwards, he took your chin in his hand. "Something wrong, cyare?"

You glared at him and then his pants. "You know damn well what's wrong! YOU HAVE TOO MANY POCKETS!!"

He laughed softly before taking over removing his bottoms. As he removed his jeans he laughed again. "My darling, you must work on your patience. Plus my pockets can hold many things... like remotes to certain toys?"

You gawked, never having considered that. Tech could and probably would make you writhe in constant pleasure while no one would be wise to the situation. The mere idea made you feel your undies become soaked. This was definitely something you’d have to discuss later. Who would’ve known that Tech would be kinky! You loved it and absolutely wanted to explore more scenarios with your love. But right now...

“Just help me undress you, smart-ass!”

Tech laughed before continuing to remove his clothing for you. He knew you had patience but the more desperate you became, the less patience you’d be. He pulled you back up onto his waist, bringing you in for another passionate kiss. Your frustration at his clothing disappearing into his soft lips.

You pulled away and knelt back onto the floor, pulling his cock out of its confines. Your mouth started to water, the tip glistening with pre cum. You gave an experimental lick from the base to the frenulum. You heard Tech suck in a breath, gaining courage to take all of him in your mouth. Eventually finding a rhythm, you bobbed your head, making sure to pay attention to his tip. Tech was gasping, the feeling of your warm mouth overwhelming him. His hands found purchase at the back of your head, gripping your hair at its roots. The slight pressure on your scalp caused you to release a low moan, sending vibrations down Tech’s cock.

“Kark cyare! You’re perfect! It's like your mouth was made for me!”

You smiled, giving him a little suck at his tip as a thank you. You felt him start to buck into your mouth and you knew he was getting close.

“Mesh’la, please! If you keep going like that I’m going to cum. I’d rather do that inside you!” he whimpered.

You pulled off with a pop, smiling gently up at him. “Of course my love. Anything you’d like.”

Now it was your turn to completely undress. Tech had already taken care of your top, leaving you in your bra and pants. You wanted to tease him so you slinked away from your love’s lap, standing before him. You started to sway your hips in a figure 8 motion while feeling yourself up and down. You smirked when you saw Tech lean back and palm himself, obviously liking what he was seeing. Reaching back, you unclipped your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders. You chuckled a little at Tech’s expression.

His mouth was pressed into a line, and he was looking up at you desperate for you to do something other than dance. He wanted, no NEEDED, you to touch him. He was stiff, trying not to melt into a puddle of submission to your will. While he loved when you took charge, he really wanted to be in control tonight.

You shimmied out of your pants, pulling your underwear with them. Straddling Tech’s waist again, you started suckling at his neck again, leaving as many marks as possible.

“Darling, as much as I love this, I think we need to move to the bedroom. I would hate for someone to catch us in a state of undress,” Tech panted. He stood, gripping your thighs to keep you where you were. You squealed at the sudden change of position, wrapping your legs tighter round his waist.

“I couldn’t agree more, my love.”

He gently place you on the bed, hovering over your body. His kisses made you breathless but you couldn't muster a care. His lips were too soft, too sweet. Oxygen was overrated anyway, you thought as his lips left yours to trail down your neck again. Leaving little hickies and bruises all over, Tech continued his mission lower, kissing over your breasts, your belly, until he reached his destination. Kissing up your thighs, teasing you, he decided to leave more spots, hickies only he would know about and would remind you who you belong to.

"Teeeccchh!" you whined, "Stop teasing!" You bucked your hips towards his face, wanting to feel his mouth on you.

He smirked, pushing his goggles up his nose. "And who am I to deny such a pretty thing?" One lick from your entrance to your clit had you crying out in pleasure and relief. Finally!

He ate you out like a man dying of thirst, suckling your little button like his life depended on it. You were certain you'd lose your voice before the main event at how much Tech had you crying out and moaning.

"Kriff! Kark Tech! How did you get so good at this?" you cried out.

He only answered in a moan against your clit, sending vibrations down your whole lower half. He may not have had much relationship experience but he did read up and research every single erogenous zone a woman of your species could have. Thankfully, humans were quite easy to research as male and females had similar erogenous zones. Tech paid special attention to your vulva and clit, stimulating it in every way possible.

Once he thought you were sufficiently lubricated, he started probing your entrance with one finger, before sinking inside. You screamed, not expecting it but welcoming the intrusion. His fingers were long and reached that perfect spongy spot just inside. Curling his fingers in a come hither, he added a second and eventually a third.

You felt so incredibly full, becoming more and more overstimulated with each pump of Tech's fingers. You were so close, that knot in the pit of your stomach becoming more and more tight. Tech could feel your clenching around his fingers, knowing you were close to your finish.

"Come on cyare. Cum for me. It's okay," he murmured against your clit.

It didn't take too long for you to reach that precipice. You fell over that edge, every muscle in your body freezing as you saw stars behind your eyes. It took you a moment to catch your breath, Tech gently kissing your thighs as you came down from your high.

"Karking hells... that was amazing love!" you moaned out.

Tech crawled back up your body, kissing every piece of skin he could reach. "Don't pass out on me yet cyar'ika. We're not done yet."

You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on your tongue and it made you whimper against him. Tech pulled away and smiled softly as he lined himself with your dripping cunt. Just the feeling of his tip against you made you buck your hips, wanting more.

"You ready darling?"

"Tech, I swear if you don't fuck me, I'll find someone who will!"

Tech laughed, knowing you were all talk. You didn't make yourself suffer through hurt and jealousy just to walk away when he teased. Slowly entering your warm walls, it took every bit of Tech's willpower not to bottom out instantly. You felt so good! So warm, so tight and inviting.

You used your legs to pull Tech deeper, not caring about slow anymore. You needed more! Your movements caused Tech to lose balance and hilt himself inside, making him curse something you never thought you'd hear.

"FUCK darling!! You're going to be the death of me if you keep doing that."

You giggled, rolling your eyes like the brat you were. Tech started to move, slowly in and out, allowing you to become accustomed to his size. You closed your eyes, biting your lip in ecstacy. Thank the Maker for Jango Fett's DNA cause you knew every clone would be well endowed but Tech was genetically enhanced so you knew his intelligence came with other perks as well.

Tech started to move faster, his hips snapping against yours deliciously. His pelvic bone gently hit your clit with every thrust, it did not take very long for your orgasm to approach quickly again. Why did he have to be so good at this? He'd give you so much pleasure you'd be unable to walk. Tech was perfect in every way, shape and form.

Wanting to prolong, you used all your strength to flip Tech over so you'd be on top.

"Taking control are we, cyare?"

In response you ground down, loving the hiss of pleasure he drew. Grinding down gently, you teased him. Tech bucked up into you, letting you know it wasn't fair to tease.

"Darling please! You know I don't last long in this position! The angle in which I enter you is quite possibly the most pleasurable and if i continue at this pace I won't last and be able to give you the pleasure you deserve."

You smiled, loving it when he started to go on a tangent. Knowing this particular one was because of you was delicious to say the least. So, you tortured him a little longer. You continued to ride him, bracing yourself on his chest. Tech's hands flew to your hips, forcing you down even more onto his cock with each thrust. Your nails dug into his skin, leaving little crescent marks on his pecs. You could feel him start to stutter his hips and while you loved the feeling of it, you did not want the fun to end yet. This was the man you loved and you were going to give him whatever he wanted at this point. So you flipped back over, letting him be back on top.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible. You heart was bursting and you once again felt that little knot becoming tighter and tighter. This time, you did not want to tease. Tech thrusted harder and faster, feeling your cunt pulse and grip him like a vice. His hips stuttered a bit and you both knew neither would last much longer.

"Darling, where?"

You moaned loudly, loving the feelings you had. "Inside me my love! Fill me up with your cum!"

A few thrusts later, you felt warmth spreading through your lower half and felt Tech release inside you. You fell off your precipice, seeing the galaxy behind your eyelids. Muscles tensed and relaxed, riding your orgasm out.

You felt Tech collapse against you, nuzzling into your neck and leaving little kisses. You relaxed your legs from around his waist and he turned you both onto your sides, cuddling into you further.

"You feeling okay?" you rasped, running your fingers through his hair.

"Mmm" he moaned. Tech lifted his head and adjusted his goggles. "More than okay cyare. I'm spent."

You laughed a little at that, feeling the exact same. Tech got out of bed, leaving you a little shiver at the lack of his body heat, but promptly returned with two canteens and a wet cloth. Spreading your legs, he gently wiped away any cum that was left on your skin. He gently encouraged you to go pee because "urination helps with clearing out any disease or sperm that may be left" but you scoffed.

"I'll pee later! Just come cuddle me please? I need a nap after that."

Nodding, Tech crawled back in next to you, wrapping his arms around your form. Snuggling in, you inhaled a breath of his scent, loving the man. You felt your heart rates calm down and slow as you cuddled. You were essentially fucked out and loved Tech for knowing your body so well.

"You're thinking very loudly mesh'la."

You smiled and curled into his chest more. "I'm sorry love. Just thinking about how much I love you."

"I love you too my darling. Now try and get some sleep. I have set tomorrow aside for us and I plan to use it well."

You smiled, blushing hard. You didn't know what Tech had in mind but you were excited for it. A whole uninterrupted day with the man you love? A certain yes please.

You slipped Tech's goggles off his head and set them on the nightstand. No indents for this clone. As you looked over you felt a rush of emotion run through you.

No more waiting you thought. You both had waited long enough to be together. Blast the Empire, the rebellion, the crime lords and everything horrible in the galaxy. You had everything you needed right there next to you.

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Hopefully it's what you all hoped for! As always criticism is always welcome as long as its kind and constructive. Thank you for all the love in the last month or so. If anyone wants anymore please feel free to reach out with requests!

Tag list:

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@lilyevans1

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[crownedtargaryen]

RIBS : Aemond x Reader x Lucerys Ch. 3 - Saphire

A/N: AEMOND CHAPTER HOORAY he’s a little rat in this book 🤭🤭

TW: THIS STORY WILL INCLUDE INCEST, SEXUAL CONTENT, ANGST, ABUSIVE TOPICS, EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, POST PARTUM.

NOTES ARE APPRECIATED! (SHARES, LIKES, COMMENTS)

Word Count: 1.7k

Tag List: @hopelesswritergall @twizzy123

MASTERLIST ( < this has more parts that can be found here!)

Chapter Three

Saphire

I let my corset fall from its hold, staring at the mirror with a dull feeling resting inside of myself. I felt as if the breaths I inhaled hadn't reached my lungs, merely dissolved into the blackness of my stomach. It had only been a half hour since I left the party, the sun falling into the blackness along the distant buildings of Storm's Edge.

I hear my door click, immediately standing from my post and grabbing a dagger that rests on my bedside. As the door swings open, the pit inside me grows larger.

Prince Aemond.

"I hadn't granted you entry, your grace. It isn't polite to enter without permission," I speak loudly from across the room, his eyes gazing at me with a deadness I hadn't caught before. I gripped the dagger tighter, watching him step toward me at a slowed pace.

"I do not require access for my entry, Princess (Y/N)," he reminds, continuing to step forward. "For you and I, both know who's of a higher power." His eye darkens, licking his lips in an almost predator-like manner, I felt trapped.

"What do you need of me, Prince," I snap, making him hum, content with my response. He doesn't speak, just towers over me and gives a smile down at me. I knew how I looked. He was the dragon, and I was his meal; not much of a storm anymore. "Go on, I'm awaiting a response. Or has your tongue been cut out too?"

I noticed him grow more frustrated and angry, I knew he would've hurt me if he wasn't inside my father's walls. This power dance was something he enjoyed; I could tell. He kept coming back to me with a craving look, wanting something from me.

I moved around him; he followed, us circling each other like a game of cat and mouse.

"I would just like to warn you, Princess," he starts, making me laugh breathily. 

"Warn me? Of what, Prince Aemond? As far as I can tell, you're the only threat in my kingdom," I say lowly, watching as his lip twitches in frustration. Good.

"It's my dear nephew, Lucerys," he snaps back, making me feel goosebumps all over my skin. What of Lucerys? He was a good boy. Wasn't he? "He's not a good suitor, for you nor any of your blood. I hope we can come to understand and confide in each other. I wouldn't want anyone to be brought harm." 

"Lucerys is a kind soul, I do not believe the words you speak. Now, leave. Leave my quarters and never return," I shakily say, making Aemond's fury rise. His once-dead eye is now colorized and angered. He steps forward, faster than he had before, showing he was merely showing patience with me. Before I can react, my weapon drops to the floor with a clatter and a hand is on my neck.

He squeezes, glaring into my eyes and forcing me to look at him. I shake, clawing at his arm as he pushes me to a wall, and leans in close, his hot breath on my face.

"Aemond," I choked out, eyes glossed. He growls lowly, almost beastly, and rips his eyepatch off. I lock eyes with the Saphire-colored gem in place of his eye, my stomach churning and the urge to vomit growing inside of me. 

"Does this look kind." He growls in my ear, squeezing so hard he could snap my neck. "Does the loss of my vision please you, Princess? You refuse to see the present. You see him as he craves to let you see. That-" he swallows hard, saying words he's been holding in longer than I can imagine. "That bastard of a boy knows nothing of the real world. Nothing of marriage, how to bed a woman, nothing of combat. His kingdom is crumbling as we speak, and you will fall with it." He whispers lowly, dropping me from the hold he has on me. I gasp for breath, falling to my knees, and sputtering, tears flowing from my cheeks. Aemond bends down, holding both sides of my face and moving me to look at him. His gloved hands wiped my tears with slight aggression; a frown on his face. "You're hideous when you cry." He throws me down, standing up and turning around swiftly. "You know your choice, send him home. He has no purpose here." He demands, grabbing his eyepatch and putting it on. He smooths his tunic, looks in the mirror I was once looking into, and then goes to the door. He looks back at me, opening his mouth to speak and then clamping it shut. He steps out, heading back to the feast.

I couldn't help but choke out, sobs, curling in on myself as I inhaled weakly. It felt as if a hole had been poked in my airway, not enough air coming in, and it all leaked out before I got the chance to exhale. I felt my vision grow dark, a need for rest sneaking up on me. Without being able to stop myself, I pass out weakly.

My rest was without ail, unlike the reality I settled into once I opened my eyes; Lucerys set at my bedside. I realize I'm resting in the comfort of my bed, the boy struggling to keep his eyes open. 

"Lucerys?" I mumble drowsily, his eyes snapping open as he shifts and looks at me eagerly. "What are you doing here?" 

Lucerys smiled, moving his hand to my hair and petting over it, making me notice every pin and adjustment done to it was now taken off. I shuffle, and bury my face into the pillow, murmuring as he chuckles. "You had told me to come to visit in the depths of the night, but when I had arrived the door was open and you were on the floor asleep," he spoke with a gentleness and admiration I hadn't heard before. My body felt sore, my eyes closing once more as he stroked over my hair.

"Lucerys?" I say once more, hearing him hum curiously in response. "Prince Aemond came before you." I croak out, unable to see his expression. "He wants me on his side, I feel he may be attempting to wed me." I open my eyes slightly, and see the brunette, deep in thought, pouting slightly. "He said you had hurt him, taken his eye. Is that true?" I now open my eyes, looking at him nervously. He avoids eye contact, the anxious little boy I had seen before returning. At this reaction, I sat up and stared at him expectantly. "Lucerys. Is it true?" I repeat.

"He attacked my brother, I couldn't let him do such a thing to Jacerys," he finally mutters, looking at me pitifully. "I acted impulsively. I didn't want my brother to hurt." I sit in silence as he explains, pressing my lips together and inhaling sharply. "I understand you may lack trust in me, but think of if it was your sister. You'd do the same, would you not?"

I considered, knowing I'd do the same as he had done. I just wouldn't have expected it from him. But, it's selfish to judge someone for something I'd do. "I would. I can understand why you did it, but it's still new information." I sighed heavily, knowing I'm no better than him. We still had so much to learn about each other. "I may need time to process if that would be alright by you?" I say softly, looking at him. He nods, inhaling sharply. 

"May I be honest, Princess?" He suddenly said, making me hum in response. "I wasn't sure I'd make it this far on my journey. I receive no good reputation anywhere I land. Being called a bastardly child left and right, I cannot settle. It's nice to not be ridiculed by one, not of the family." He smiles at me, tears rolling down his cheeks. I stare in surprise, wanting to soothe him but feeling resistance toward touching him. "And I would like to do anything to keep you safe, Princess (Y/N). If that puts my life in jeopardy, let it be just that. You've been nothing but gentle towards me, and I consider you a friend towards myself and the Iron Throne." 

Silence fills the room, my lips pursing as I rub the forming bruises on my neck. Unsure of how to respond, my heart raced out of my chest. "May I be honest as well then, Lucerys?" I say softly, making teary eyes gloss with curiosity. "I believe you hold kindness in your soul, and what you do is with the intention of helping others. But, I wish you'd do something for yourself for a change." I look into his eyes, feeling a burning passion held between us. It was undeniable that we felt strongly. "Kindness is scarce in Storm's End. Keep embracing yourself, but I want you to try something for yourself for once. Yes? For me?" I reached over, brushing the hair that had stuck to his face from tears. He looks at my face, scanning for something I can't place.

It all moves so fast. 

He gazes longingly into my eyes, moving closer. I don't stop him, unsure of how I feel about this. 

"Gods forgive me," he whispers under his breath before pushing his lips to mine. I feel my body shrink, close my eyes, and kiss him back. It was my first kiss, sloppy, and lacking in any rhythm. Our teeth touched a few times, but I barely noticed. Caught in the passion between us.

When he pulls away, panting quietly from the thrill, the action settles in. I stood up, swiftly, pushing him away and clearing my throat. "Prince Lucerys," I state quickly, his eyes widening as I say his title. He stammers to apologize, I shush him. "I think it'd be best if you took your leave." I lick my lips; his taste rested upon them. I felt anxiety rising inside of me, covering my mouth quickly. I shouldn't feel taken advantage of, but I did. I urged him to do this, so why did I feel sickly? 

Lucerys stood and approached me. I jerked away from him. "Please, your grace. I need you to leave," I weakly say, voice cracking. He stares longingly, I can feel it on my back. 

And before I could regret my words, he was gone.

[prettymuchteddy]

The Bastard Boy of Dragonstone

Part 3 Alicent 1

Chapter Summary: Alicent goes to the weirwood and finds Gaemon there

Series Masterlist

Warning: Targaryen Critical, low-key Viserys bashing

Words: 743

A/N: Turns out they have something in common

Alicent dismissed Ser Criston when they arrived at the weirwood tree. Her loyal knight, stubbornly refused to leave her side, worried about the danger in her being alone with him. Alicent promised him she would be fine; only then did he go. The door closed.

Alicent looked over at the boy standing in front of the tree. She faced his back. His short stature and silver hair reminded her of her own sons when they were his age. His hair was different though from any of her sons. Aegon’s was curled and short, Aemond’s was straight and long, and Daeron’s was straight but cut above his ears. He was similar but so different.  

At first, when Viserys told her what he had done, she only asked him if the boy was his. She asked it in a hushed voice, the anger was dripping out. She didn’t love Viserys that way but the idea of him turning to another when she had given him her innocence, her womb, and her devotion made her burn with rage. He assured the boy was not. When she heard he was fifteen, she knew he was telling the truth. By the time the boy was conceived Viserys struggled to even walk without his cane. The maesters never left him alone as his health was always complicated. The maids didn’t enter his room, she was the one to help dress and feed him. He couldn’t have had that child.     

Alicent was sure Criston’s exit revealed someone was there, but still, he didn’t turn around. She stayed where she stood.

“Do you believe in the Old Gods?” She asked. “This is a weirwood after all.”

He turned around slowly. “No.”

“Do you believe in the faith?” Alicent asked with curiosity.

The boy’s eyes shifted toward her necklace of the seven-pointed star. 

Alicent gave a soft smile. “I wouldn’t be offended if you don’t, I’m merely curious.”

There was silence until he said, “No, I don’t.”

Alicent nodded. “This is a quiet place to come to, faith or not.”

The boy nodded. 

“I come here to pray sometimes when I’m not at the Sept.”

The boy raised a brow. “Am I interrupting?”

Alicent shook her head. “No. No.”

He relaxed his shoulders, slightly.

“How have you been adjusting to the Keep?” She asked.

“Alright, for the most.”

“Has everyone been welcoming?”

“The servants treat me good.”

Alicent leaned forward. “And everyone else?” 

He shrugged. “I’m used to it already.”

“It will take time.”

“I doubt it. Title or not, I know what I am seen as, your Grace.”

Alicent’s smile turned sad. Her head lowered. 

“You know when I was your age, I married the king”, Alicent sighed.

This caught the boy’s attention. “I didn’t know you and the king were that married that long.” 

Alicent nodded. “It’s true. Before we were married, I was Lady Alicent Hightower. Even after I had my children, I felt like an outsider. The house of the dragon was very closed off from others.”

“Was?” He asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“Back then it was only the king, the princess, and the king’s brother. They were very united years ago but since then they’ve expanded. The king’s brother had his daughters, the princess had her children and I had mine.”

“Does it ever go away?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The feeling of being an outsider, does it ever go away?”

If Alicent was being honest, she would say no. Twenty years of being married to Viserys and the Targaryens never truly let her forget she was an outsider. But she didn’t want to destroy his hope. None deserved the flames of the Targaryens especially someone so young.     

“The house of the dragon is not very welcoming. Despite that, you have their blood. You are a Targaryen. You are here. You are a prince of the realm. You belong here.”

Even as Alicent looked at him, all she could see was an anxious fifteen-year-old girl carrying a child in her belly. How she wished someone had told her what she said to him. She shared no connection with him, yet they were kindred spirits in one regard. It was one that no one else would ever truly understand. The Targaryens were supposedly closer to the Gods than men, living amongst Gods as a mere mortal was a volatile thing. She had survived nearly twenty years. Alicent prayed that this boy, Gaemon, would too.   

[poetoflawed]

The Mission

NOTE: ok so this is based on the oc that @v-cain Writes about. I love their toothless mutant-inspired reader fics and had an idea of one for one and thought i'd give it a shot.

Edit: I'm not adding more to it because i have writers block now but i hope you enjoy this drabble <3

Fandom: X-men

Warnings: Swearing (probably), fighting, hurt/comfort, fire, let me know if there's more.

Pairings: (All Platonic) Logan Howlett x gn!teen!reader, Hank McCoy x gn!teen!reader, Scott Summers x gn!teen!reader, Kurt Wagner x gn!teen!reader, Jean Grey x gn!teen!reader, Jubilation Lee x gn!teen!reader, Charles Xavier x gn!teen!reader, Erik Lenhsherr x gn!teen!reader

Finally my first mission, I'm still not where the professor would have liked for regular missions but Apocalypse isn't our regular villain. To defeat him we needed everyone, and I was one of the only people on the team who could come at him from the air. When we left we were too sure of ourselves, to cocky.

Well not anymore, the fight is raging around me, and I find myself on the ground. rocks digging into my back. I look around and there are bodies littered everywhere. Both sides of this war obviously having taken hits.

As I'm trying to get up, I let out a hiss of pain, there's a long deep gash down my ribs.

As i'm there assessing the wound i hear a voice, "Stay Down, y/n"

"Professor?"

"yes, stay down. we can handle it.."

before he can convince me I look over and see Logan rushing Apocalypse before he's caught and thrown. I watch as I see his body crumple to the ground. the fear and anger is unbridled now, I wasn't gonna let this bastard get to anymore of our people.

Against orders, I rush Apocalypse, just as Logan did, grab him with my claws, and shoot us straight up before anyone can stop us.

"You meek human, you think you can stop me?" he's taunting me, I have to ignore it and just focus on producing my fire breath.

"Was he your friend? Father maybe?" he smirks.

"Ignore him. Focus." i think to myself.

I'm pulled from my concentration as a knife is plunged into mu stomach, i start to falter and we start hurtling towards the ground however at the last moment i send my fire straight to his face.

I drop him, losing blood as i quickly approach the ground.

There’s fires raging everywhere, out of the corner of my eye I see Jean. She’s unconscious, she must have been air support. I dive for her and then everything goes black.

Third POV

Logan’s body crumples against the ground, and y/n immediately gets the advantage on Apocalypse, pulling him upward. Logan’s just getting up in time to see them fly above the clouds.

Everyone is still as they watch the sky. With the enemies slowly dropping.

“They did it…” Charles is looking up in awe and fear.

“What did they do,”

“Logan-”

“No, professor. Tell me what they did. Please.” Logan can feel his anxiety rising.

“They ended it. But not without consequences consequences. ” he said gravely, “they have little strength left.”

Jean immediately shots up to help, but is knocked out by one of the last soldiers still alive. She’s careening to the ground before everyone sees you fly out of the clouds and grab her before you smash into the dirt.

“Kid…” Logan runs over to where you fell. Wings, tail, and body wrapped protectively around Jean, who is unharmed. Jean gets up and is pulled away from you by Scott. You are left there groggy, and barely lucid.

“Kid, what did you do…” Logan’s face is set in fear,anger, and sadness.

“Is everyone ok?” Y/n asks as they breathe shallowly.

“Everyone’s fine.” The professor assures. “You on the other hand are a different story.”

“Kid. Goddamn it. Why did you do that. What did you do.” Logan is moving you of the ground to lean against him now. Their breathing to slow for his liking.

“I k-knew i could d-do it. I had to t-try.”

As he watches he notices the gashes and blood stain their suit.

“You’re fine… you’ll get better.” He’s applying pressure. But the stain is steadily getting larger.

Everyone is to shocked to move, until the professor talks.

"get them to the jet."

[sunderedazem]

Hey! It's been a while :D I've been off the Internet for a bit but just know both of your updates have been giving me essential bits of life energy, even though I haven't had time to type something out in appreciation until now. First things first I absolutely love what you wrote for the 'stay?' prompt, it's exactly what I hoped and imagined what could have happened if things hadn't gone so wrong back then. Seriously, it's like you took a look into my brain, I was really imagining scenarios of helios coming back and taking care of an exhausted emet selch 😩 such good food thanks so much for that.

Okay so back to the actual ao3 updates, I couldn't believe that you guys did the tempering cure so early XD ahhhhhh it was so good! The way it was just a slight shift of perception, how emet selch goes off just barely holding it together, the line "I always believed I would see them again" broke me so bad like how dare you 😭 but honestly finally processing his grief now is great cause it'll be so much better when Hyth comes back 😈 iirc that that's happening. One of my favourite bits was emet selch having company while the cure was being administered, idk there's always something about having support while you're healing. Corrain's writing is superb as always, in the tempering fic as well as the Sharlayan one, he comforted emet selch so well and it was very interesting to see his point of view when he snapped at thancred, poor guy needs a long break and so much therapy. I haven't read the most recent lelesu writings yet but ahhhhhh she has such big sister energy? Such a solid anchor, it's so great every time she gives support.

I think that's all my thoughts for now, so that this doesn't get too long. Thanks so much for the new content, and I hope the both of you are doing well!! Many well wishes <3

Okay! Now it's time to sob over this ask so excuse me while i

And YEAH we couldn't wait to untemper that bastard man and break him even worse. Like imagine waking up and the thing you've been working towards for the last thirteen thousand years is not only principally opposed to what you believe is right, but also now you have to accept that everyone you'd ever loved is dead and gone and will not come back.

(And then they do. Because we are stealing Hyth. And then also stealing Elidibus from Pandaemonium like sorry Athena that man is ours now. And then Hyth is spotting Lahabrea's soul mixed in with Nidhogg and they are Stealing (and helping him put himself back together, and confiscating his wife's evil space rock) him too. And we are stealing the Sundered Ascians as we find them and curing and collecting them, because they all deserve a chance to recover from the literal apocalypse knowing that the star is actually safe. Anyway. I have emotions about the first Final Days and how nobody who lived then deserved what the world and Hydaelyn ended up giving them, no matter if it was necessary or not.)

To be fair it most likely only feels fast because most of what happens in Shadowbringers and the post 5.0 patches happens as it does in canon and tby rewriting all the Same Stuff seems kinda jejune so we skipped it XD. There are a few more pieces from SHB in process though, we just have to finish them.

And YEAH GOD. Corrain can be very cruel on occasion, and him snapping at Thancred for having EXTREMELY JUSTIFIABLE RESERVATIONS (even if he was a jackass about it) wasn't his finest moment. He doesn't even honestly feel so upset about Minfilia, he liked her alright as a person, and she WAS kind to him, but in the moment he's purely reacting in anger, and it dredges up some really nasty parts of him. This is a trait Helios had as well, if uh. You read the Final Days breakup fic XD.

And YEAH I ALSO NEED MORE LELESU ALWAYS. She is so SASSY sometimes. Hey @azems-familiar give us your girl. Grabby hands.

Honestly I know I'm late actually answering but this made my week last week 🥺🥺🥺💙💙💙

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?

Pairing: JoelMiller x OC

Note: I have decided to continue my story; thanks to the people that got in touch to tell they are still enjoying it. I was really worried that people were losing interest but while there's still readers here, no matter how small the group I'll keep posting until we reach the end of this story together, much love and hope you enjoy the chapter we're back with our boy Joel for this one and I have missed writing him, I won't lie. Enjoy! <3

Chapter Twenty Three

Joel didn’t know what he was thinking. It would take days to get to where he wanted to go. Weeks, if he persisted on foot. Not to mention it would be more of a risk. From being ambushed by hunters; infected, stragglers or anyone else in this godforsaken wasteland of a world that wished him harm. In fact sometimes the bastards didn’t mean to cause harm; they’d just wanted to steal supplies or weapons to take for themselves. Joel knew that well enough; having been on both sides of it. 

He needed a plan. And wondering out in the open on foot was not going to end well for him, if his dwindling supplies were anything to go by. 

He’d already searched every gas station, garage and pit stop stores he’d passed so far and every one he’d left with nothing. It had taken a while to get back towards anything vaguely close to civilisation. But after a few hours he saw it. The tall rusted and dented walls that engulfed the town. The old faded signs that gave instructions to scared residents looking for safety from the outbreak when it had started. The old security watchtowers that were abandoned; littered with bullet holes and long dried blood. Corpses of old Fedra soldiers hung by the lampposts and buildings; beside them were words of hate and anger spray painted onto the walls. It brought Joel back to the quarantine zone in Pittsburgh. It was like an echo of time and rebellions replayed over and over again. It seemed every QZ had ended the same way and Joel couldn’t help but idly wonder if the same fate had met the QZ in Boston. Pushing on he tried to find a way in, eventually coming across the main road that gave way to an underground tunnel. There seemed to be a way through; it’d be a tight squeeze but he just about make it. 

He paid no mind to the scuffs on the palms of his hands or the loose debris dust fluttering into his already greying hair. Coating him from head to shoulders like a ghost of dusty white as he climbed through towards the other side. When he finally emerged he stopped.

The smell of fresh blood assaulted his senses; a scent the man had an unsettling familiarity with. He took a few steps forward along the old road, bodies littered the floor. But they were not of people. They were infected. An array of both runners and clickers alike. It didn’t take long to deduce that this was not from a fight among the horde. The aggression overtaking them as they fought over a dead deer carcass, no this was done intentionally. One runner in particular had several bullets holes shot into its temple. The puddle pooling around its broken skull was still wet. This had happened recently. He followed the trail of deduction as it led him to the still smouldering half burnt bodies of yet more infected by an old check-in point.  What the hell had happened here? There had obviously been some kind of ambush, though what had brought out so many infected in such a force eluded him. In that moment Joel felt a shiver creep up his spine and a strange tugging sensation in his mind. His instincts on full alert as he drew his pistol from the holster by his hip and swiftly turned to check behind him. 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

And yet he still couldn't shake the overwhelming feeling that he was being watched. The shadows clambered across boarded up buildings; the broken streets and sidewalks. Painting the sky with a deep orange hue; dusk was fast approaching and night would be falling soon. Joel knew there’d be no point in trying to move on just yet. Might as well find somewhere secure and get a decent night sleep if possible. Shaking away his unwarranted suspicions he turned away from the old rusted gate; already deciding that he’d have no chance of finding a way over and made his way further into the downtown area of the QZ. 

————-—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Joel found somewhere half decent; night had already fallen. An old apartment building seemed secure enough. It had been further split into living quarters much like the one he’d lived in, in Boston.  He’d been lucky in getting such a space to himself, as other residents had been expected to live all in one apartment. Whole families having no choice but to share the small living quarters. Most of the other buildings had been sectioned off by Fedra; having been deemed either, not liveable or some had simply collapsed in on themselves during the chaos of the outbreak. That in the end, the government had been extremely limited to what was left available to them when the time came to quarantining certain cities or towns. Leaving most large areas to the elements and bombing the bigger cities in an feeble attempt to wipe out infected. It had worked for a little while but it seemed all places were the same no matter where you went. Boston; Lincoln, Pittsburgh, Salt Lake, Colorado…it had all ended the same way. People had risen against Fedra’s rule and in an attempt to take back their town or city; had simply watched it burn and whither away. 

As Joel made his way through the building, the old dusty floorboards strained against his weight. Climbing to the upper floors; checking out as he went to ensure the coast was clear, he felt more at ease as he reached the top. More of a vantage point should anyone try to ambush him for any reason. 

He set old broken bottles by the door he barricaded; his mind content at having some sort of alarm to wake him should he need it. He got to work checking the apartment over for supplies. It seemed for a change luck had favoured him. Finding bandages and rubbing alcohol in the bathroom and tinned food in the pantry. He made quick work of the living room, setting out his sleeping back on the couch and shrugging off his backpack, setting it beside him as he kneeled on the floor. He placed the items on the coffee table in front of him; his weapons would need checking over and cleaning before he set off again as well as preparing himself a hearty meal of beef jerky and a cold tin of baked beans. He tried not to grimace at his ‘dinner’ for the night. It was times like this he really wished he were home in Jackson again. 

He ate silently taking in his surroundings. Before travelling with Ellie and Ada; he’d never really thought about the places he’d stayed. The places he’d looted in order to find supplies while on the road. They’d just been a shelter over his head for the night, or a place to resupply to continue a job or a journey. But then the teen had started to ask questions. 

Who do you think lived here? 

Do you think they found their family?

Man, I hope the poor bastards got out. 

Is this really all they had to worry about? It’s bizarre.

He had to wonder about the people that lived in this apartment. Were they still alive? Had they stayed together and gotten to somewhere safe before the outbreak here? He doubted it. If memory served right, most places hadn’t even gotten warning that the outbreak was even coming. His hazel eyes darted around at the family pictures hung on the walls. The smiling faces seeming hollow now. The young couple at the beach, at a fair and a graduation from East Colorado University; if the graduation gowns were anything to go by. Childhood sweethearts maybe? Or perhaps they met and fell in love in College. At any rate; it didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. He’d never know for certain. 

His eyes froze on a faded photograph, the frame dented and old now. The couple stood together holding each other close. One in a suit, the other in a white gown. Their wedding. 

Joel felt a breath catch in his thought as he thought about his own wedding picture. Now smashed and littering his attic floor. The photograph screwed up and thrown on the ground at Ada’s feet. 

He felt a jolting ache spring through his heart at the thought. 

God he hated himself for the things he had said to her. He hadn’t meant any of it. He’d been angry and confused at the time but that still didn’t give him the right to yell at her like he had. 

“I reckon it’d be best for both of us to go our separate ways. Be done with this whole thing.” 

He wished he could take it back. The words echoing in his mind, tormenting him. That hadn’t been at all what he wanted. And as he sat alone in the dark, with nothing but his flashlight to chase away the night, he missed her more than he ever thought possible. 

“I mean it, Adaline. Stay the hell away from me. You and that girl of yours.” 

That girl. That girl. He was disgusted in himself for describing Ellie in such a way. He loved her like she was his own and he’d treated his own family like they meant nothing to him. It was like his mind was split in two. The man who’d lost his memories, lost in a world he didn’t understand and the man that he was now. That he had been for the last twenty five years. It was strange remembering how he’d reacted to everything he knew to be fact now. To once question it and be so confused to the point of angry frustration, to seeing the world as it had crumpled and adapting to what was left. 

Joel sat back with his back leaned against the foot of the couch. Too much thinking. Too much. He needed to focus on the task at hand, he needed to plan his way forward. If he thought too much about Ellie and Ada; he’d change his mind. Turn back and go straight home. As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn’t. He needed to keep them safe. Even if that meant them losing him once again. They’d understand. He hoped they would. 

As Joel decided to turn in for the night, he put out his flashlight and settled into his sleeping bag. He failed to notice the shadows that were creeping along the sidewalk below outside. Slowly moving under broken, dead street lamps and peeking in through building windows before pausing then moving along as if almost searching for something. Like wolves on the hunt in the midnight moon, while the mighty moose slumbers on, unaware that the pack is on the prowl and out for blood. 

[maddiedott]

The Mourning Dove

Chapter Five

Warnings: very short, talks of religion, self esteem issues, self worth, past Dovie, parental issues

A/n: hii! I’ve been sick with the flu and am just now starting to feel better so bear with me while I try to get chapter 6 out <3 enjoy!

Often I questioned my parents, the other nobles, even the gods. For what was the purpose of life if not curiosity. My mother would quote that curiosity killed the cat. My father however, said that it was the way into the world, challenging the mind for an answer and a reason.

That was one of the only things he’s taught me. That he’s said to me and not within passing.

I was caught trying to enter the library that was off limits to me and my mother as it was in the west wing- my father’s side of the house. I wasn’t allowed to be there. But strangely, he didn’t anger once my tiny feet stumbled forward as I pushed the door open. It was made of solid wood, giving little me a difficult start.

I had managed to trip into the room and in front of his feet. My head slowly lifted, meeting his gaze with a sheepish one. I knew what I had done was wrong, yet I held no regret for it. He stared back at me for a while before turning around and walking behind the maze of bookshelves stocked to the brim.

He indulged my curiosity to learn. That was the only time I had seen him for the kindhearted, warm man my mother would talk about in stories. While he never stayed or sat and read with me, he extended an olive branch. Allowing my presence in his, as small as it may be.

“It’s a wonderful thing. To explore that around you for answers you don’t have yourself.” He would say.

As I grew so did my inquiries.

I learned of gods and goddesses, their ways and what they require of their followers. I wanted to get into religion, and wanted something to believe in. Something that would warrant me something to live for. To dedicate myself to.

I leaned towards Selûne and Oghma.

The goddess of the moon. Of hope for so many people. The war between her and her sister was poetic, if not a little cliché. The forces of darkness and light, hope and loss. Yet her teachings didn’t truly resonate within me. Sure there were aspects where I would find myself pursuing and agreeing to her ways. But never felt as if I would be able to call myself a follower of the lady of the moon.

Then there was Oghma. The god of bards. Of inspiration and invention.

Eloise had spoken so fondly of the god, she was raised to worship him as her mother did. Perhaps that’s why I yearned to be accepted by Oghma. To share something with someone who held my heart in the palm of their hands, to share it with the deity they devoted themselves to.

Or maybe it’s because I wanted someone to be devoted to me in that way. To love me wholly and deeply without a fault. To be cared for as if I was a goddess myself. Be seen as something more than a bastard child who longed for nothing but the sounds of lute strings and calluses covering her fingers and palms.

Just to have a place in the world where I could be more than what was thought of me. To be myself. To have the privilege of not knowing the consequences, of not caring for what comes next.

Perhaps in order to do so, I have to devote myself to some higher power to find my sense of self. After all, inspiration and invention didn’t seem entirely awful to be a part of. He did accept anyone with any moral alignment.

Perhaps he’ll be able to accept me. Maybe I’ll find a sense of self. My place in this life. To finally feed the howl of curiosity that is seeded within me.

[selfmenticide]

“You’re a beautiful enigma, and I want to unravel every secret you hold.” + “Let me lose myself in you; I want to know every part of your being.” - fnaftm anna to niel. :3.

niel's brows furrowed hard , finding himself immediately being drawn towards to the idea of being reserved rather than listening to a word that the redhead spoke ; yet , parts of him felt DRAWN to her , felt INCLINED to listen , to open up . as if she had somehow DESERVED the intimate , private parts that composed nathaniel . surface level , he was a previous delivery boy and night guard who used humor and laughter as a weapon that was skillfully weld to hide another deeper . he had never wanted to be anything more than just a guy , yet . . . HERE he was . months after everything happened , he'd found himself in the position of trying to push away everyone he had deemed friends to keep them in secrecy of what was happening behind the scenes .

niel had told everyone he was fine , that he wasn't worried , that he held no ill feelings about anything that happened to him when these were all lies . months of anger , rage , fury had culminated and boiled to a point where nathaniel had heavily considered murdering that rat bastard in the cell where he stood , and then . . . nothing . nate hadn't told anna anything about the creature that plagued him , the vicious entity that hunger for the blood of their very shared ex-boss , and right now he wasn't sure if he could allow himself to elaborate . but . . . she was so nice , she asked so eloquently , and who was nate to deny her ? so , despite everything in his body threatening to close off right there , the raven gives a deep , shaky sigh and nods his head .

" okay , sure . . . i'll . . . tell you as much as i can , i promise . " the man gives her a tight lipped smile , trying to get comfortable on his couch as his hands idly picked at the seams of his jeans . " if you want me to start from the very beginning , i'm the son of a single mom , deborah . great lady , a bit religious , she uh . . . she thought there was something off with me when i was little , i was talking to myself , she said i'd started to lie and hide from her , but all i can really remember funny enough is my imaginary friend i had at the time . " he chuckles , shaking his head and adverting his gaze.

" she took me to the pastor , took me to sunday school , prayed and asked ME to pray every night , the whole nine yards . . . she passed when i was 15 , hung herself about a week into my sophomore year . and since she was the only family i had , i was basically toted around foster care homes until i hit 18 , couch hoped until i turn 21 , and then started up at freddy's as a delivery driver . . . you know the rest of that story though , " niel snorts , bringing his attention back onto her . " but , after all the shit went down at freddy's , i just . . . i got so mad , i was so angry , and scared , and i didn't know what to do . . . "

nate swallows thickly , eyes going vacant for a moment , trailing to the entity that stalked eerily in the corner of the room before focusing back onto anna . " i hid , i ran , i fought , i did what i thought was right and would make me feel better , but every night i would STILL go to bed terrified and enraged , and then . . . it was like it all stopped , i woke up and i was fine , and i felt like i could move ON finally ; but , the lord had other plans for me and i'm in another vat of hot water dealing with a different beast . " niel swallows thickly , hands fidgeting idly now with each other . " and i don't know if i'm able to explain that part . . . " he hears the creature that plaged only his vision titter , jaw locking up and emitting a soft sigh .

@murdermelody

[nastrond-and-valhalla]

Hopeful Wrath Part 1: Retribution

*The exorcists were doing their own training regimend while their sisters that they rescued from Hell were getting medical attention for their wings and wounds. 3 of them were sitting at a table eating lunch.*

Exorcist 1: "Talk about a massive bust."

Exorcist 2: "I know right!? Just when we got the ok to do another extermination, we got our butts handed to us by some fantasy world pricks and a robot imp. And here I was hoping to score that nice promotion."

Exorcist 1: "Tell me about it. Apparently the one spearheading the attack was a sinner named Monokuma. You know, that bear thing that ran those killing games?"

Exorcist 2: "How the hell did one bear pull that off?!"

Exorcist 3: "Apparently he built a robot made of angelic steel or something, according to the three that tried to get a headstart. The stupid cheaters."

Exorcist 1: "Fucking christ....First there was that total loss last extermination and now this shit! Man, I feel like things are going down the shitter after losing Adam."

Exorcist 2: "Yeah. He wasn't the best guy around, but he was a fun boss. Who knows what's going to happen to us?"

Exorcist 3: "Well.....We can always look back at all the happy memories we've had. All those stupid sinners we've killed and slaughtered and all the happy times we've had."

Exorcist 1: "Yeah. Hehehe. those were the days. I remember coming across this one sinner who wanted to protect her husband and some teenager she adopted. Poor bitch looked like a drug addict who was trying to get her shit together. Ran her through the fucking neck I did!"

Exorcist 2: "Hahahaha! i remember that! I saw her husband run at us with a fucking broom, thinking that'll do him any good! Like what we he even thinking!?"

Exorcist 3: "Clear nothing since he's dead now too! Hahahaha! I even mounting his stupid head on the very broom he used, just to taunt him! Hahahahaha!" *The exorcists laughs with glee as someone approaches them.* "Oh what I wouldn't give to hear the screams of those worthless ass sinners!"

Exorcist 2: "Preach it, sister! If anything, I'd do anything to kill that whore, Charlie and the inhabitants of that eyesore of a hotel of her's!"

Exorcist 1: "For real! I mean, really. Rehabilitate sinners? Redemption?! Hahahaha! There's no such thing as redemption! There never was such a stupid thing! If there was, then we'd be out of job!"

???: "Excuse me. Is this the exorcist training yard?"

Exorcist 1: "Who's asking?"

???: "A curious party. Nothing more. I've heard that someone by the name of Sir Pentious was redeemed."

Exorcist 2: "Yeah right. And even if it was true, it's nothing more than an empty fluke. It's only a matter of time before he does something that'll fuck-shit ends up in hell again. After that, all we have to do is wait for another ok 6 months later and bam! Every single sinful man, woman, and child is ours for the kill-" *Suddenly, the person kicks the exorcist out of her chair.*

Exorcist 1: "Hey! What's the big ide-" *That same person grabs the exorcist by the face and then slams her face first through the table, hard.*

Exorcist 3: "You bastard!" *The last exorcist throws a punch at the person, who catches their fist easily, gripping it hard and slowly crushing her hand. She screams in pain.*

???: "Feel that?" *The exorcist looks up at her attack, who stares coldly down at her.*

"This is the exact pain you've inflicted upon all those poor sinners you've deemed unworthy of life, let alone redemption." *Kiko breaks the exorcist's hand and kicks her into the field, catching the attention of the other exorcists. Kiko with a glare of calm, yet burning anger, slowly marches towards the army of murderous angels.* "So many human souls, slaughtered by your very hands. So many of their lights, extinguished in your sick idea of a game. So many sinners, many I bet could've been redeemed, and yet you killed them off without a sense of remorse. I will not stand for this. You'll pay dearly for your crimes."

Exorcist 4: "Kill this motherfucker!" *The exorcists charges at Kiko with their spears. One of them thrusts her spear at him, only for him to seemingly vanish in the blink of an eye.*

Exorcist 5: "What the!? Where did he go!?" *They hear him whistle as he is seen standing behind the large wave of killer angels. He stood there with his arms crossed and tapping his shoulder impatiently.* "How did he!?" *One of the exorcists jumps at him, thrust her spear at him before he vanishes from sight again, along with the angel's spear.*

Exorcist 6: "What the!? My spear!!!!" *The angels spots him standing on top of one of the exorcists' heads, perfectly balanced. He looks at the spear he stool from them.*

"For you so called heavenly beings to use weapons let this be so reckless. Have you lack any sense of humanity?"

Exorcist: "GET OFF!" *She swipes at Kiko, who leaps and then uses that spear to stab the angel in her foot, causing her to scream in pain. He kicks the angel into the crowd of other angels. He holds his hand over his hip, causing light to shine as his weapon of choice appears. he draws the blade, lettign it shining in the heavenly light.*

*A rapier emitting a green glow.*

"I heard that angels can be heard by angel steel. What about a weapon forged by the goddess of light and infused with wind magic?" *Angered, the exorcists all charges at Kiko as he fought back against all of them, single handedly besting them all in battle and outclassing them at every turn. The power this one boy held was too much for any of them, blowing them away with powerful wind base skills and magic, and even severing their wings with light based magic. He held nothign back, kicking their collective asses without a hint of mercy. One of them starts to back up, overcome with fear. He spots the angel.* "Don't." *The angel tries to run only for Kiko to appear in front of her. In a panic, she tries to attack him, only to be met with a backhand slap, a few hard kicks to the ribs, and a powerful roundhouse kick that sends the outclassed angel spin to the floor. As Kiko dusts his feet off, as more exorcists arrives, surrounding him. He glares at the entire army without fear. He grips his sword and readies himself for battle. Elsewhere, one of the angels that is able to still move reaches the office of Michael, the seraphim of justice.*

Exorcist: "M-Micheal! Sir! Come quick! it's an emergancy! W-We're getting....We're....We-We........." *The exorcist faints.*

Michael: "What the!? Hey!" *Michael checks on the exorcist to make sure she's ok.* "Damn. What's going on?" *And then, a large explosion is heard from the exorcists' training grounds. Michael looks out the window, seeing a large explosion in the distance. He flies towards the scene, finding the entire army of exorcists badly hurt and unable to stand or move. When Michael looks up, he sees the attacker looking down at his dirty work with his angelic wings flapping.*

".........." *kiko and Michael's eyes meet for a brief moment before Kiko flies off in the distance. Michael wanted to chase after him, but he needed to tend to the wounded exorcists' first. He calls an ambulence and started getting the army of exorcists treated. But he wasn't going to let what happened slide. Not that easily.*

[gingernut1314]

Songbird Pt. 2

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: You've been frustrated. Very frustrated. A frustration Buggy has brought on and a frustration only Buggy can relieve you of. But, unfortunately, he is still without a body and you are left to get creative.

Tags: Smut (oral f. receiving), teasy flirting

Word Count: 3.3K

A/N: @srgtjamesbarnes soooo....this isn't want you commented but as I was writing what you said I got this idea so this is like a part 1.5. Part 3 is gonna be what you said buuuttt I wanted to write this really quickly 😂. Also, again, thank you so much for requesting! And thank you to everyone who read, commented, and reblogged part 1 and I hope everyone enjoys this part!!

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You were too fucking horny to deal with Buggy at the moment. Too horny to watch him as he shouted angrily up at Zoro who had just commented on the clown's lack of a body. 

His green-blue eyes snapped to you in his anger. His red-smudged lips moved as he spoke--lips you wished to claim against yours again. Ones that had been kissing you drunk almost every night since that first initiating conversation. Lips that had been whispering all the naughty things he was going to do to you once he got his body back and driving you insanely needy.

Lips you couldn’t help but imagine sucking on your clit. You couldn’t help but imagine holding onto that blue hair, banana thrown half haphazardly to the ground as he did. Imagine his tongue--

“Y/N?” Zoro’s deep voice said, snapping you out of horny thoughts. You blinked at the swordsman, trying to quickly cool yourself down. Kept your eyes glued onto him so that you wouldn’t look Buggy’s way and get all flustered again. Zoro was watching you over with something like concern in his typically bored eyes. Eyes that scanned you from head to toe. “Are you alright?” 

“Huh?” You said, feeling that tingling need begin to build in you again. “Yes. Yep. Perfect. Just--sunbathing.” You said gesturing to the sun that had moved westward, slowly beginning its descent to allow night in.

“Uh-huh. Only asking cause I was talking to you and you were--kinda just staring. Hell, even the clown tried to get your attention.” 

“She was probably just thinking about--” Buggy hardly could even form a sentence before Zoro was whacking him over the head with the rag he had been using to polish the sword that had survived the famous Mihawk's attack. “OW! Watch it, fuck face!” You kept your eyes glued to Zoro, never glancing the clown's way. Not even peeking for a second--you refused to do so. Couldn’t do so if you wanted to keep focused. 

“Sorry. I was just--” Your eyes moved as if they had a mind of their own, finding Buggy watching you with a smirk on his lips. A smirk that was almost too knowing--like he knew what you had been thinking about. You’re body heated thinking about all the things you wanted him to do to you. 

You quickly snatched your eyes away from the clown again, shoving everything and any thought of him away. “What did you say?” You asked.

“I asked if you were okay to take over watching him?” You blinked once, twice--

“Is it my turn?” Zoro nodded. 

“Yes, and I would like to be away from him now,” Zoro said as he stood. Oh shit--you didn’t think you could just…be alone with the clown at the moment. Not when you were as flustered as you were. A flusteredness you couldn’t seem to keep away. 

“Are you sure it’s my turn? We all agreed it was Usopp’s turn to have him next.” Zoro shook his head as he resheathed his white-hilted sword.

“That was in the morning. Then it was Sanji’s turn, then Luffy’s, then mine, and now it’s yours.” He said, moving towards the door that would lead to the inner workings of the Merry. “You take him at night so you get him last. We can start to switch nights again if you’re getting sick of being around that red-nosed bastard.” 

“HEY! Enough of the nose talk! It’s, quite frankly, overdone.” Buggy hissed, making your lower stomach clench. Fuck, it was hot when he was all pissy and gruff and overall dangerous--

“Y/N?” Zoro asked again, making you blink rapidly. “I lost you again--are you sure you're okay?” He asked, coming to a stop before the lawn chair you were sprawled over. You nodded, pulling yourself to your elbows so that you were sitting up. 

“I’m okay. Just hot.” You said simply, but he continued to watch you with his bored gaze that held more concern in them than they typically did. A concern you needed none of in that moment. Not over the reason why you were spacing out.

“Then you should go inside. Can’t risk you getting heat stroke.” He said, turning back away from you. “And if you need to go back to switching nights--”

“I’ll let you know.” You huffed, flopping back down as Zoro made his way inside. Once the door shut, Buggy gave a dramatic groan. 

“Gods, is that guy fucking in love with you or something?” He snapped. 

“He’s not in love with me, you idiot. He’s a good friend.” Buggy gave a sharp laugh.

“If he’s just a good friend, then I’m your fuck buddy--oh wait--” You shot the clown a daggered glare that had that funky little laugh you enjoyed too much spilling from his lips. “That dumb-dazed kid couldn’t keep his eyes off you--though I can’t blame him when you're wearing such a skimpy little thing like that. Fuck, songbird, if I had my hands I’d rip that off of you right here and now.” 

Too hot. It was all too hot out here. The slow, slow sinking sun doing nothing to help your horny and hot nature. 

You had worn the smallest swim set you owned to mess with Buggy. To tease him and tempt him enough to get those lips back on yours. What you hadn’t taken into account was how hot and bothered you might get while that fucking clown was looking over your body like it was some goddamn map to the One Piece itself. 

“Would you shut up?” You hissed, throwing yourself from your seat and all but marching over to him. That mischievous smirk remained on his lips regardless of the pissed-off mask you were throwing his way. Seemed to grow that much more, like he wanted to get you mad.

“Look at those things bounce.” He said gruffly, green-blue eyes hardly leaving the sight of your breasts. “Maybe tonight, songbird, you’ll let me suck--hey!” He shouted as you grabbed him up in a manner that was hardly gentle. “What are you--wait, wait, wait! Not the bag!” He begged as you swiped the bag up from the ground. “What’d I do, songbird? Talk to me! Communication is ke--” His voice became muffled as you shoved his struggling head back into the dirty bag. 

You felt bad, but you needed him to shut up, just for a moment. Just so you could cool down and regain your demeanor. 

But you were a fool to think that just because he was in his sandy bag that would mean his string of words would stop. 

“Is it because I said your tits were bouncy? Because I’m sorry…and you know I can’t help it. You’re too gods damn hot.” His said, voice muffled, as you swung the strap of the satchel bag over your shoulder. His head came to rest at your hip, doing the exact opposite of cooling you down. 

“Or is it because I said Mr. Overachiving Show-off is in love with you? Cause, sweet stuff, he is--or he just wants to fuck you. Ha--maybe I’d get along with that shithead after all.” You gave a roll of your eyes as you pushed through the door into the inner workings of the Merry. 

Walking through the kitchen, Sanji perked up at your sudden presence, pausing in his preparation of dinner to smile your way. “Good afternoon to the stunningly gorgeous madam. Would you like a glass of water to help cool you down from sitting out in that blistering sun all day?” 

“I’m thinking a glass of wine--a beer.” You gruffed, throwing open the fridge to look through all the assorted alcohols Zoro had stocked in it. 

“Clown giving you grief?” The chef asked, resuming his chopping. 

“I’m the best stress relief she--” You threw a hand over the clown's mouth as you grabbed a beer. 

“Think Zoro will mind?” You asked, showing the beer Sanji’s way. 

“Old mosshead’s going to be upset over something regardless of a missing beer.” He said, a bit of a bite to his words when talking of the swordsmen. You gave a nod, closing the fridge door with your hip so that you could keep Buggy’s mouth covered. Sanji marked the movement. “But one can hardly be mad at such a lovely lady such as yourself.” 

“Would I be lovely enough for you to crack this open for me?” You asked, batting your eyes dramatically up at the tall chef who was quickly doing as you wished, looking like some love-sick puppy. 

You had learned long ago Sanji was just a big flirt who had a great appreciation for the female physique and it really meant nothing, so you had taken up--for lack of a better phrasing--using him and his love for women to your advantage. 

Something was on the top shelf you didn’t feel like dragging a chair over to reach it? Ask Sanji. Too lazy to open a beer? Ask Sanji. 

“Anything for the madam.” He said with his charmingly bright smile before handing the opened beer back. 

“Thank you very much kind sir.” You said, taking a long sip as you turned on your heel and headed for your room. You only removed your hand from Buggy’s mouth once you had made it to the near completely secluded hallway your room was located on and you had all but finished your beer. 

“You’re going to get pissed at my compliments but flirt right back with that pretty boy’s?” 

“The key difference is his are compliments. Yours are horny and objectifying.” Buggy gave a puff of air like he found this whole conversation stupid.

“That’s not what you’ve been saying late at night.” He said in that gruff way he did and you were horny all over again. 

“You’ve just earned more bag time.” Buggy gave a dramatic, exasperated sound as you pushed through your bedroom door and discarded Buggy’s head on the small crate you had kept him on before he started sharing your hammock at nights. 

“Songbird--come on.” You finished off your beer and added it to the small pile of empty beer glasses in the corner you had been meaning to throw out. You looked over the bag which wiggled a little as Buggy tried to find an exist. You watched him in absolute agony at your neediness. At the burning of your body and the throbbing of your pussy. A need that almost had you physically shaking.

When was the last time you had fuck someone? A long, long time ago. Well before you had been captured. And there hadn’t been time since Luffy freed you to do such an act--no one you particularly wanted to do it with here on this ship and in any bars you visited. Hell, you’d hardly even masturbated during the time you’d been on this ship. 

Maybe that's just what you needed. Maybe this whole fantasy of fucking Buggy and wanting him to do naughty, naughty things to you was just you being sexually frustrated. Maybe you just needed to get yourself off and get rid of this needy build-up. 

“I’m sorry.” Buggy tried as you locked your door and, silently, pulled your small bottoms off. “Songbird?” Fuck. That fucking nickname was so annoyingly nice to hear ring through your ears. 

You climbed into your hammock and settled in before you moved your hand between your legs--moved your fingers through your dripping fold until you found your clit. You had to all but slap a hand over your mouth to keep from breathing too loud as you began to rub it in just the right way because holy shit you had needed this. Needed to get rid of all that bent-up energy bouncing around in your body that had no source of escape except through this.

The thought of Buggy’s lips on yours crossed your mind. Crossed it and stayed. Thought of him biting your neck hard enough to leave it littered in hicks. 

You thought of his body, which you had drank in way too much during the fight in his circus tent. Fuck--you had wanted to jump him then and there regardless of him being your crew's enemy. You’d wanted to pin him to the ground and ride him until you were satisfied and he was growling your name.

It wasn’t like you could help it, not when he’s arms were strong and his features so ruggedly handsome. Not when the idea of him thrusting hard into you while having that tight, gloved grip of his wrapped around your throat drove you crazy.

“Y/N?” Fuck. You think you liked your name on his lips more than that stupid little nickname. 

“S-say my name again.” You found you couldn’t help yourself. Couldn’t stop your breathy, lust-fogged voice from speaking out. 

 “What? Why do--holy fuck! Are you touching yourself?” You bit your hand hard. Of course, you had given yourself away. “Wait, wait! Get me out of this gods damned bag!” He shouted, rustling around so much he ended up throwing himself off the crate and onto the floor with a bang. “Fuck--” He cursed but continued to wiggle around to get out. “Y/N--” He demanded and you gave a little gruff moan as you reached down and grabbed him up. “Quickly! Get me out!” 

“You--you jackass.” You huffed, having to pull from hand from your clit to grab him out of his bag. He looked just as needy as you, but that smirk of his had found its way to his lips. You shot in a daggered glare as best you could. “I can’t even get myself off without you butting in--fucking asshole.” You bit, throwing his bag back to the ground. 

“You’re touching yourself thinking about this asshole, songbird.” He bit back in a way that had you biting your lip, your pussy all but crying out for you to keep touching it. You nodded with a moany hum, reaching back down to answer that cry. 

“I-I wore this just for you, you know.” 

“Fuck--” He said, green-blue eyes scanning over your body and staying glued on your spread legs--on how you were messaging that small bundle of nerves to bring yourself closer to that rushing pleasure you so desperately needed. “I loved it, songbird. You looked so gods damned sexy sprawled out of that fucking chair like that. Was killing me not being able to touch you.” 

You moaned in his ear, biting at that double-pierced earlobe and kissing at his jaw so you could be close to him. So you could feel his skin against yours in some fashion. 

“C-Couldn’t even think straight be-because all I could think about was your st-stupid fucking voice and ho-how much I want you to fuck me.” Buggy gave a little curse. “I-I need you to fuck me, Buggy.” 

“Let me eat you out, songbird.” He said near feverishly. “Fuck, let me make you come. Please, baby.” He all but begged you.

“Yes, yes, yes! Please.” You begged right back, pulling your hand away to replace it with Buggy’s head. 

“Songbird--gods, you’re so sexy. So fucking sexy. Drive me crazy--” He breathed before running his tongue through your folds--drinking you up in a manner that had you slapping your hand back over your mouth so your moans would stray within the confines of your room. 

You only ever removed it to tell Buggy exactly where your clit was, only to slap it right back over your lips when he found and focused all his attention on it. On rubbing it with the back of his tongue, circling it, and sucking on it to the point you were beginning to unravel. 

Without much thought, you brushed his bandana off his head and ran your free fingers through what you could of his long blue hair, which you had put in a subpar bun the other day when, after one of Zoro's more violent attacks, it became all undone. It had surprised you at first, the sheer amount of hair he had, but it was hair you'd wanted to touch and run your fingers through again ever since then.

Using his hair, you pulled him closer to help him apply more pressure against you. To help you have some sort of anchor as he slowly and teasingly brought you closer and closer to your end. He moaned against his your pussy at the tugging of his hair and you moaned right back, loving the vibrating sensation it caused. 

You tried to keep your hips from moving--tried to keep from squeezing your thighs together around his head, but it was the hardest struggle you had faced in a long while. One you almost nearly lost had Buggy not pulled away in a frustrating manner that had you whimpering out his name to return his focus on you needy body. 

“You better keep perfectly still, songbird.” He murmured in that dangerous tone you could not get enough of. Wanted to hear more of whispered in your ear. 

He had just locked his lips around your pussy again, had just brought you right back to the edge when there was a knock on your door. You clench your teeth together and tried to pull Buggy away, but he dove his tongue deep into your pussy, finding that spongy spot up in you that had your body tensing up in such pleasure you thought you might cry out. 

“Y/N?” It was Zoro’s deep voice that called from the other side of the door. “Dinners done.” Gods damned dinner. He was interrupting your alone time to tell you dinner was done. Fuck--

You swallowed a moan and steaded your voice before speaking.

“Okay. I’ll--” A little shuddery noise warped your voice when Buggy found your clit again. Found and it and all but torutued you with his tongue. Had you having to take a deep, deep breath in before you could even think to speak again. And the worst part is you knew he was doing it just because it was Zoro at the door. Because some part of him would love to get caught with his tongue buried in you. 

“Are you okay?” Fucking hell--

“Yes!” You all but shouted stupidly. “Yes. I’m just not feeling great--” You paused to take a steadying break. Buggy chuckled against you, sending those little pleasant vibration through your body once more. “I’ll be up in a moment!” There was silence for a second…then two--

“Okay. I’ll let the others know.” 

“O-okay!” You said, voice wavering more than you wished. A second went by…then another--you heard his footsteps walk back down the hall and you were able to relax and refocused your thoughts back on the pleasure Buggy was dealing you. Pleasure that was building and building and building up inside you--

“I’m--I’m gonna come--oh fuck, Buggy! Please, please, please--” You said on a breathy moan that you tried to keep down. 

Buggy kept his attention on your clit. Kept his tongue’s swirling movements so consistent and steady and oh so good and--your body teased up all over again and your release was flooding through you like a tsunami. 

Your body collapsed on your hammock as your chest heaved up and down, struggling to catch your breath. 

“Songbird--you taste so fucking good,” Buggy whispered lowly as he gave your pussy another lick, as if he really believed it tasted that good. It make your body twitching at the oversensitivity of it all.  

“Oh fuck…” You whined, grabbing Buggy’s face back up to claim those red-smeared lips of his. To kiss him sloppy and slow and deep. A kiss that you could taste yourself on in a way that had your head spinning. “So fucking good.” You breathed as you pulled away, placing Buggy’s head on your chest. You two lay there for a moment, you running your fingers through that blue hair of his. 

“I just ate so I’m not in that big of a rush to get to dinner.” 

“You’re such an asshole.”

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Tags: @synoname-wordsmith , @cefni

[mother-rhoyne]

r/AITA for trying to teach my step-grandson to use his words?

I (29F) have been married to my husband (43M) for 15 years, but my stepdaughter (SD, 28F), with whom I used to go to school, never got over her dad remarrying, and despite my best attempts, has always disliked my children (her own half-siblings!) and raised her kids to dislike them too.

Now, my hubby has always favored her, because she was his only child for a very long time. I would not mind this too much if he was a little closer to our children (13M, 11F and 10M). Sometimes I think he even forgets that our youngest (6M) exists, and he called me by the name of his ex-wife the other day. I'm not mad at him at all, because he received a really bad prognosis a few years back and that tends to play with his mind. But SD really takes advantage of his state while I care for him (in sickness and in health <3) and would never do such a thing.

To the main event. My third baby recently claimed a dragon, a rite of passage for which he was a bit of a late bloomer compared to his older siblings and "nephews", and he did it like a pro (Good things come to those who wait!) I could not be prouder of him.

However, a little friend of SD's kids wanted to claim the dragon for herself, because it was bonded with her recently dead mother or something (if so, why didn't she do it before???) and SD's sons, who had always bullied my baby, accused him of stealing and ganged up on him to beat him up! He fought them off like a champ (he's always been the smartest and quickest of the kids), but one of the crazy brats had a knife (who gave him that???) and took out my boy's eye. You read that right, HIS EYE!

It was too late by the time I arrived, and I will never forgive myself for this. All I could do was get him medical care. I confronted SD and her children about this, but she claims that my baby attacked her son (like he would do that unprompted??) and stole the dragon (which at this point I feel is not relevant??? HE LOST AN EYE!!!)

When Hubby finally arrived, I was hoping that he would take his son's side, but he seemed more upset that my baby and his brothers called SD's children bastards (which I didn't talk about because it's a whole other can of worms, but they are. Nothing against SD as a person, as I said we were good friends growing up and I tried to preserve that tie but she's grown into a bit of a slut and now she's realizing that light-skirtedness has consequences). Hubby was very angry and I was hoping that some of that anger might be directed towards the brat that blinded his son, but he only decreed that anyone who called SD's sons bastards would have his/her tongue taken out. AND DID NOT EVEN RAISE ANYTHING ABOUT OUR SON! If he hadn't lost an eye for saying THE TRUTH (so sick of people denying basic biology), would he have lost his tongue???

Now, when one of my sons, say, pulls the other's hair, they get their hair pulled in turn, and that way they learn that what they did was wrong, so I took a dagger. SD stepped in between, and when I explained to her that I was tired of Hubby's blatant favoritism towards her, she started screeching insults at me.

I eventually put down the dagger because my dad, who I can always trust to side with me, urged me to - he said that I was in the right but that some people might think I'm TA for involving myself in the way another mommy is raising her children.

So Reddyt, AITA?

Edit: My baby is out of danger, but as I said, he will never see again from this eye. He's being incredibly brave about it and I love him more than life itself. SD's sons were not hurt (the 3yo got a nosebleed but it wasn't broken, it's fine).

r/EntitledParents This crazy bitch tried to stab my 6-year-old

She also had sex with my dad and I'm pretty sure she's the one who spread rumors that I was blowing my uncle when I was 13

r/AITA for trying to teach my step-grandson to use his words?

r/EntitledParents This crazy bitch tried to stab my 6-year-old