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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 4 months ago

Text

When Gods Listen

Ship: Astarion Ancunin x female!Durge/reader

Summary: Astarion is hit by a memory spell mid-combat. You fear what will happen to him, but Astarion only knows he woke with the answer to his prayers looking down at him.

Word Count: 6,162 words

Warnings: post Astarion's first romance scene, descriptions of battle, Astarion's past, typical Durge thoughts, temporary memory loss, temporary amnesia, Gale being helpful, vampire feeding, a cliche 'oh. oh.' moment, kissing, unspoken confession

Note: Reader is based on my drow half-ef Durge, Nixu, but remains from the second-person perspective with only brief & vague mention of her appearance. My first time writing Durge (resisting), so let me know what you think!

☟ Continue below the fold ☟

How long had you been fighting? Ten minutes? An hour? Gods, you didn't know. You couldn't focus on anything other than the weapon in your hand, the number of arrows in your quiver, and the spells you had prepared. Letting your focus stray to your companions had already cost you, proven by the blood running down your arm and the claws that had torn your pants to shreds.

Need new armor, you thought as you slammed a dagger into a goblin's throat. The creature gurgled and clawed at your hands, leaving behind red scratches, until you yanked out the blade. The goblin fell to the blood-soaked ground with a wet thud.

Shadowheart screamed behind you. You heard the snarl of a wolf and turned to find one lunging for her, the cleric frozen in fear. You reached for your bow; Gale was faster, sending a Fire Bolt at the wolf. It snarled and turned on Gale.

You strung an arrow to your bow. You had four left, including this one. Your shot would have to be incredibly precise if you didn't want to get any closer to the wolf; you didn't have enough arrows for do-overs.

Taking aim, you drew back your string, taking a deep breath. Easy does it, you told yourself.

The wolf's body tensed. It sat back on its haunches, ready to lunge for Gale. He was in the middle of preparing a spell; it wouldn't be ready by the time the wolf's jaws were around his throat.

An arrow flew directly into the wolf's jugular. You blinked. Had you loosed your arrow? No. It remained in your fingers, notched to your bowstring.

Your eyes sought out the arrow's source and landed on a pair of red eyes creeping out of the shadows. Astarion slipped out of hiding, his face stony. He held his own bow. He stared down the wolf until it collapsed with a pitiful whine.

Both Gale and Shadowheart turned to other enemies, knives flashing and spells meeting their targets.

There was a horrid howl from somewhere on the battlefield. You whirled toward the sound and found an irate human hurrying down the rocky hill. You guessed the howl had been the wolf's name, then, and this was its owner.

"Astarion!" you shouted. "Behind you!" You pointed in the direction of the approaching human—a wizard, by the looks of her.

Astarion turned and dropped into a crouch. She began summoning a spell; you recognized it as a memory spell. Temporary, but all-encompassing. Before Astarion could hide, the spell hit him square in the chest.

Dread coiled in your stomach. Astarion stumbled backwards, a hand coming to touch his chest. Then his body went rigid. You weren't close enough to see it, but you knew his eyes had glazed over.

Astarion glanced around, clearly confused as to how he had ended up in a battle.

"Shit," you muttered.

He'd be easy to kill in this state, you thought. All too easy to stab in the brain and watch the blood run into his eyes. Ugly desire curled through your stomach, a desperate need to gut him from the inside out settling in your chest.

You blinked and the urge was gone. You glanced around you, expecting your butler, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Gods, why can't the urges be something simple, like wanting him whimpering beneath me again?

You started toward Astarion. Goblins swarmed you. You cast a poison spray across them and cut them down as quickly as you could. You looked up to find the wizard whispering in Astarion's ear. He turned toward Gale and Shadowheart, expressed pulled into confusion.

A goblin clawed at you, trying to climb your legs. You shook it off and slammed your knee into its face. You looked up again and found Astarion with an arrow pointed at Shadowheart's back. You shouted a warning.

"What the hells is he doing?!" she shouted.

Gale frowned at Astarion. "Amnesia," he said. "She messed with his memory."

All eyes widened in horror as the woman gave Astarion an order: "Kill." He loosed his arrow and Shadowheart just narrowly dodged it. Astarion readied another.

"He's under her command," Gale said.

You jumped to a higher vantage point. "Can we stop the spell?"

"Not the memory spell, that will take time to fade," he reasoned, "but if we kill her, she can't command him to kill us."

"Great," you said. "Now I have a plan."

The wizard shrieked with laughter. She turned around, her hands spread, a sneer on her face. "You'll never kill me," she snarled. "I'm far more powerful than—"

She fell with a thud, your arrow buried in her heart. You jumped to the ground and looked down at her where she lay, gurgling and glaring at you. You cocked your head. "You should know better than to expose yourself to attack, wizard. Now I will make your head a statement piece."

Without thinking, you drew your knife. Yet you froze when you heard Gale give a shout. You looked up and found an arrow—one of Astarion's—in his shoulder. The wizard could make no more orders, but her last command was still standing. He was still attacking the others.

"No time for that now," you said to the corpse. You left it where it lay and ran toward Astarion. As you got closer, you realized he looked incredibly confused about having shot Gale.

Gravel crunched under your feet, sliding out from underneath you. You slipped to a halt in front of him. "Astarion? You okay?"

He flinched as your hand came to rest on his shoulder. He shrugged off your touch. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"I'm..." The words died on your lips. What were the two of you? Gods knew there wasn't really a label for whatever it was the two of you had. Would he even believe it if you tried to explain it, while the memory spell lasted? "I'm your friend. We met on the road. We stuck together with Gale and Shadowheart here and the others back at camp to get rid of the tadpoles."

Astarion looked at you, studying you with a gaze as guarded as it had been when you'd first met him. "I don't..."

"You've been hit by a memory spell, a very powerful one," you told him, resisting the urge to grab his hand. "It's given you temporary amnesia."

"Why are we fighting?" he rasped. "I... I don't know who to... She told me to fight you." He glanced back at the body. He seemed to be panicking a little now. "But then you killed her and now I... I don't want to kill you anymore."

"You don't have to," you promised. "You don't have kill us, Astarion, we're your friends."

"No, not them," he said. "Just you."

He raised his bow, an arrow already prepared and aimed for Gale's heart. You grabbed the bow, wrenching it from his hands and throwing it to the ground. He growled, deep and animalistic. His eyes flashed a brighter red and his lip pulled back from his fangs. They dripped with saliva.

Such a pretty monster, you thought. It will be a shame to rip out his heart.

But you didn't follow your urge. Instead, you slammed the pommel of your dagger into the side of his head. His eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to the ground.

Gale shouted at you, utterly horrified. "What was that for?"

"He was going to kill you," you said. "I don't think there's anything we could have said that would stop him." You glared across the battlefield. "Let's deal with the rest of this and get him back to camp."

Shadowheart yanked the arrow out of Gale's shoulder and healed him quickly. You watched his skin knit back together with a strange fascination that tingled beneath your own skin, like you'd felt it before...

The rest of the goblins and wolves felt like they took no time at all. You were aware, of course, that your sense of time was disrupted by your worry; every so often, you cast a look toward Astarion's crumpled body, passed out but corpse-like for his lack of breathing. A discomforting desire shuddered through you at the sight.

He is my friend, you told the need in your gut that told you to kill him twice over. He trusts me. I will not hurt him.

Yet you weren't so sure you could trust yourself to keep that promise.

When enemies finally stopped swarming, you went back to the wizard's corpse. You dug through her pockets for anything useful. You found several amulets imbued with powerful magic and plenty of scrolls. You took her weapons without much thought; you could inspect them later, but you had more important matters to begin with.

"Is he alright?" Gale asked as you knelt beside Astarion.

"He should be," you said. "I didn't hit him that hard."

"Something tells me he won't be too pleased about that when he wakes up," Shadowheart said.

"If he remembers it, that is," Gale said. The wizard sounded the most worried you'd ever heard him. "That was a powerful memory adjustment spell."

You frowned. "It is temporary, isn't it?"

"I certainly hope so. For his sake and for ours," Gale replied. "Here. Let's get him back to camp. It's too dangerous to continue on with him like this."

Gale cast a levitation spell and Astarion's body rose. His face was obscenely peaceful and it dawned on you just how tortured he usually looked when he tranced. You cocked your head, wondering just how deep that memory spell was going.

A hand fell on your arm. "Is everything alright?" Shadowheart asked.

"I'm fine," you said. "Just thinking." You cleared your throat, tearing your eyes away from Astarion's slack face. "Come on. We've got a lot of ground to cover, and not a lot of daylight left."

~❊~

Astarion felt like he was...swimming? Maybe. Everything was fuzzy. His mind felt bizarrely empty and way too full at the same time. He saw nothing through his heavy, closed eyelids. Try as he might, he couldn't get them to open.

A sense of urgency was sitting in his chest. He had something to do, didn't he? He'd been...

The feeling of whatever it was, of holding something light and curved, of pulling his arm back and letting go, disappeared back into the murk.

Frustration bloomed in Astarion's mind. What was going on? Was this a trick of Cazador's?

Oh, there! That was...something. A person? Yes, an unpleasant person. Someone he was rather upset to have remembered, even if it meant at least there was something in this useless head of his.

A vile taste filled Astarion's mouth, like rat's blood and salty bodily fluids. Somehow, Astarion knew it was because of the person he despised so completely. Yet how?

Sudden hunger curled through Astarion's stomach. He groaned, clutching at his stomach. I have to hunt, he thought, but he still couldn't get his eyes open. Trying only pushed him further into the thick, liquid blackness that surrounded him.

Help, Astarion tried to say. His mouth remained closed. Someone help, someone get me out of here. Gods, please, get me out!

The silence of his mind answered him.

Astarion whimpered, curling into a ball. I'm so hungry, Master, he whined, but only one rough word came out, nearly lost in his throat. Once again, he was dragged back into darkness.

~❊~

"Astarion's not doing so hot."

Karlach's voice roused you from the thoughts swimming in your head. You sat back on your haunches, somewhat surprised to see the weapons you'd been sorting through from today's battles still in front of you in a heap. Had you gotten so lost in your thoughts you'd stopped working?

Never mind that, tend to the pretty corpse, you told yourself. You stood up, ignoring the saliva gathering on your tongue. "How so?"

"He's tossing and turning, groaning in his sleep," she said, chewing on her nails, glancing in the direction of the trancing elf.

"I'll check on him," you said.

You walked across camp toward Astarion's tent. When you'd gotten back to camp, Shadowheart had thought it wisest to keep him in view of everyone, just in case something went wrong, so Astarion currently lay on your own bedroll in front of his tent.

You could see Astarion's sleep had become fitful. He had tossed and turned so much that he'd thrown off the blanket he took everywhere that you'd put over him. His hair was beyond messy. His eyebrows were pinched together and he was panting unnecessarily.

A soft groan slipped past his lips as he rolled to one side, desperately hugging his arms to his stomach. You cocked your head. Was his hunger causing him to stir?

"At least we know I didn't kill him knocking him out," you said.

Karlach opened her mouth but was interrupted by Astarion's whimper. The two of you both looked at him again, concerned. "Master," he rasped.

Your body stiffened. You had a sudden need to keep Karlach away, sure these babblings were not something Astarion would want anyone to hear.

Why are you not also leaving him be? you asked yourself. You decided against answering that question.

"I'll keep an eye on him," you promised her.

Karlach gave you a curious look, then nodded. She turned away and headed back across camp.

You sat down beside Astarion. You peered down at him, his face fixed into an expression of pain.

Poor creature, you thought.

Astarion gave another whine of hunger, curling into the fetal position. Your own face pinched into an expression of sympathy. You took your dagger from its sheath and pricked your finger on it. With your free hand, you held open Astarion's mouth, then hovered your bleeding finger over it.

Achingly slowly, the blood dripped into Astarion's mouth.

~❊~

Food.

A sharp, iron tang filled his senses. He could smell it, so close he was sure if he could just convince his body to move through the sluggish black around him that he would be able to taste it—

Blood hit his tongue, the taste of a single droplet bringing saliva that coated his jaws. Another drop followed. One after the other, droplets of blood collected on his tongue. Somehow, he found it within himself to swallow.

Astarion knew this blood. The taste was oddly familiar, though it wasn't part of his regular diet. No, this was not the blood of bugs and rats—this was the blood of a thinking creature. One he'd feasted from before.

Master will torture me for this, he thought. Master will write more poetry on my skin.

But Astarion no longer found it in him to care. As more blood dripped into his mouth, he swallowed it down with enthusiasm.

Strength returned to his limbs. The hunger that plagued him constantly began to subside, easing into something bearable. Old aches and pains disappeared.

There you go, Astarion, a female voice said. She sounded close—and worried. Just drink. It will help.

Astarion obeyed on instinct. He knew this voice. It was uncannily familiar, the kind of voice he'd listen to for hours just to keep hearing it. Yet...where had he heard it? Was this a victim, coming back to haunt his memories? It certainly wasn't one of his sisters...

With a full belly, restlessness took over. Astarion quickly grew bored of the dark surrounding him. He shifted, the movement slowly bringing him back into his body. He huffed impatiently.

Are you coming back to me? the voice asked, accompanied by a soft touch on his cheek. A brief moment of silence followed, then— You're scaring the others, Little Star.

Astarion tensed. That name. No one called him that. His siblings knew better and his victims never got close enough, so...

A hand slipped into his hair. Panic took over. Astarion's scalp tingled. He anticipated pain to follow.

Something within him snapped—

~❊~

Astarion's eyes opened the same time the thread within him grew too taut. He lurched upward, a snarl on his lips. He bared his teeth, prepared to rip out the throat of whomever had touched him—

"Easy!" It was the same voice. The hand left his hair and pushed him back to the ground. A figure appeared over him. "It's just me!"

The voice stopped him. Astarion let himself be pushed back down—surprisingly gently, with only one hand on his shoulder. He focused on the figure above him and slowly your features come into focus.

You're...beautiful. Your hair has been pulled out of the way, leaving the concern and worry on your face clear to his eyes. Your eyes were wide, but you didn't seem to be afraid of him. In fact, the look on your face suggested you know his dangers all too well.

You were the answer to every prayer he'd always been too scared to voice.

Slowly, Astarion relaxed. You looked instantly relieved.

"It's me," you said again, calmer now. "Do you remember me yet?"

You lifted your hand to his cheek. Astarion could smell the blood on it—the same blood he'd just tasted. He turned toward it and saw the small slice in your finger.

"You fed me?" he asked.

You nodded. "Of course I did, Astarion."

Astarion flinched. "How do you know my name?"

Disappointment flickered in your eyes. "I'll take that as a no," you sighed. Only then did Astarion realize you'd asked him a question. "We travel together, Star. With our friends. So that we can get the tadpoles out of our heads?" You spoke slowly, trying to give him time to catch up.

But Astarion didn't recognize anything—except for the smell of your blood, which seemed so innate to him, beyond the taste of it on his tongue.

"I— I'm sorry, I don't know," he whispered.

"Nothing sounds familiar?" you asked. When he shook his head again, your disappointment showed on your face for a moment. You hid it quickly with your next breath, but Astarion saw it. "That's alright. It'll come back to you."

Fear suddenly wrapped its claws around his heart. "Will it?"

"Yes," you said firmly. "It will. I promise, Star." You took his hand in yours and squeezed gently. "And I'll be with you until you do remember."

A thousand questions swirled in his mind. Who were you? What had he done to deserve your kindness? How could you be so certain that he would recover?

Deep in his heart, he wondered if he even wanted to recover. The bits and pieces floating around inside his head... They were not pleasant. And yet, all he could think to ask was, "Why?"

You smiled softly at him, almost regretfully. You were silent for a long time, avoiding his gaze. Your hair just barely covered your eyes; Astarion could not make out your expression. At last, you raised your head toward him. "If you were in your right mind, you'd know." The muscle in your jaw feathered. In a hushed voice, you added, "Honestly, that scares me more than this."

Astarion's eyes narrowed. He felt like he was missing something, something obvious. You were hiding something, but he couldn't fathom what or why...

You turned away from his intense, questioning gaze. "Rest. I'll be here when you wake up." You pulled a knife from its sheath on your boot and a rag from your pocket. You began polishing it.

Astarion watched you for some time, entranced by the methodic way you cleaned your weapons, pausing to inspect the shine of the blade. It did not take long for the drowsy blackness to seep into the edges of his consciousness, taking over with every blink. Soon, there was nothing left but...

~❊~

You weren't entirely certain when Astarion had dozed off, just that you had suddenly felt the loss of his gaze. You glanced at him, his body still on your bedroll.

A few moments passed while you watched him. Once you were certain he was deep in his trance, you left his side to collect a handful of herbs and a water flask.

You measured out the herbs and tied them off in a mesh pouch. You steeped them in the cold water and watched the color change achingly slowly. Only when it had reached a greenish-yellow color did you gently reopen the bloody spot on your finger, hissing as the skin split again, and let your blood drip into the mixture.

You stared down at it, watching the blood sink to the bottom of the bowl. The herbs, meant to help improve memory, ought to do something for his memory loss... Or so you hoped.

With Astarion still trancing, you left the herbs to steep. You returned to your own tent briefly to retrieve a book to read while you waited for him to wake.

The evening passed surprisingly slowly. You got through several chapters before you were interrupted by a gentle tap on your shoulder. You looked up to find Gale offering you a plate of food.

"Thank you, Gale," you said, accepting it after you'd put your book down. "How's the arm?"

"You're welcome. All healed up, thanks to Shadowheart," he said. He glanced at your mixture. "Is that for Astarion?"

You nodded. "It's a bunch of herbs to help improve memory. I was thinking it might speed up the 'temporary' part of the wizard's spell."

He thought for a moment. "I have a few spells that might help," he said. "Pass me the bowl."

You did so and watched curiously as Gale muttered a few quiet incantations over the mixture. When he passed the bowl back to you, the water faintly glowed lavender.

"That should help," he said.

"What did you do?" you asked, frowning. You hadn't recognized any of his mutterings.

Gale bit back a smile. "Those spells should increase the herbs' potency. It will strengthen the potion, and our elf's ability to retain his memory."

For a moment, you just stared at him. Then you said, "You have to teach me those spells."

Gale smiled. "Anytime," he promised. He nodded to the plate he'd given you. "Eat. You need your strength, too."

You nodded and ate quickly. Astarion shifted in his trance, mumbling quietly. You glanced at him and heaved a sigh when you realized he was, once again, clutching his stomach.

"You are a pain to feed when you can't bite me," you said to him before once again opening your finger and letting your blood drip into his mouth. Yet you weren't nearly as annoyed as you sounded; you honestly didn't mind caring for the elf. Gods knew he deserved it.

You returned to your book until night fell. The others came to check on you and Astarion before they retired. Wyll put out the campfire and you looked at the vampire still knocked out on your bedroll.

"Guess we're sharing again," you murmured to him and wriggled into your bedroll. You got cozy, comforted by his presence, despite everything. You rolled to put your back to him, but whispered over your shoulder, "Good night, Astarion."

~❊~

Astarion woke up very suddenly, a scream in his throat. He covered his mouth with a hand before it could come out. He lay that way for several moments, trying to calm the sense of panic in him from yet another nightmare of his master, before he realized he was not in his tent. Or any tent.

His head rolled to the right, toward the heat next to him and the scent of you. You had curled up beside him, your back to him, some distance between the two of you. For some reason, his heart sank. Why hadn't you cuddled up close to him?

Bits and pieces of memory hit him with a pounding headache: something slamming into his chest, loosing an arrow from his bow into Gale's shoulder, waking up and lunging for you, watching you sharpen your knives...

Gods, what had happened over the past few days. When had they left that battlefield?

Astarion glanced at your sleeping form again. A deep ache sat in his chest; he wanted... Gods, did he really? He wanted to hold you. He wanted you in his arms.

For her heat, he told himself as he rolled onto his side and closer to you, draping his arm over your middle. He ignored the fact that his explanation did not cover the little kiss he pressed to the nape of your neck.

You stirred in your sleep. "Little Star?" you murmured, pushing back against his chest.

"Don't wake up," he murmured. "I'm here."

He watched a sweet, sleepy smile cross your face. "It worked," you mumbled. You hand came up to slide into his and squeeze gently.

Astarion frowned. "What worked?"

You rolled to face him, even though your eyes remained closed. "I'll tell you in the morning," you said. You yawned and nuzzled your face in his chest, apparently happy to hide in the fabric of his shirt and his scent. You hummed. "My pretty little death."

There you were with your strange little sayings. Astarion raised his eyebrow, assuming you'd caught a whiff of his (albeit faint) odor of death. "Do I need more perfume?"

"No," you said, quite adamantly. "Smells good."

Astarion bit back a giddy, boyish smile. "If you say so." He put his hand into your hair, fingers scratching your scalp gently. You hummed contentedly and, within seconds, fell back asleep against him.

He wrapped his other arm around you as well, pressing you close to him. A twinge of hunger passed through him, but he ignored it; while you had told him plenty of times he could feed while you slept, he'd rather wait until the morning than risk waking you again.

Too alert to fall back to sleep, Astarion looked down at you. He brushed a few strands of your hair from your face, reveling in the softness of your hair and skin. He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone, content to admire you until his eyes got tired of you. Truthfully, he wasn't sure that day would ever come.

"Oh, you," he murmured. He kissed the top of your head and you lifted your head toward him while you slept, turning your face toward him. Like a sunflower seeking the sun, he thought, a very old distant memory surfacing—his tiny hand in a bigger one, belonging to someone telling him to look at the big yellow flowers in front of him...

He was your sun. And you were...his.

Something in his chest stirred. It wasn't quite a heartbeat, but it was very close: a fluttering in his heart, truly awakening for the first time. A shuddering breath escaped Astarion's lips.

Oh.

Through the fuzz of the past few hours, Astarion dimly remembered you smiling at him, soft and sad and unsure, sorrow in your voice as you said, If you were in your right mind, you'd know. Honestly, that scares me more than this.

And Astarion did know. He did.

Oh.

"My darling," Astarion murmured, shifting to curl his body around yours. You responded in your sleep, clinging tightly to him. He kissed your cheek and then rested his head against yours, watching the sky and patiently waiting for the sun to rise.

For the first time in two hundred years, the gods had finally listened.

~❊~

Your body registered the warmth of the sun before you fully woke. It spread through you, spreading a lazy comfort through you. You slipped between peaceful sleep and fuzzy wakefulness for some time before lips roused you completely.

Tiny kisses covered your cheeks and nose. A hand cupped your cheek. "Wake up, my love," a soft voice said. Your heart warmed and your eyes flickered open. Astarion!

His crimson eyes crinkled with a smile when you looked at him. "There she is," he whispered, fonder than you had ever heard him.

"You're back," you murmured, overjoyed to be his love again but desperately tamping the feeling down. He would certainly see it now if you were not careful to hide your heart.

"What happened?" he asked. "I remember fighting goblins, but nothing else until I woke up to you avoiding me in your sleep." His tone was teasing, but there was something else there—some little bit of vulnerability. Your heart began to beat faster in your chest.

You propped your head up on your hand. "It's a long story, Star."

"Tell it to me while I feed," he suggested, already shifting to perform your morning ritual.

You rolled onto your opposite side and exposed your neck to him, sweeping your hair out of the way. "Alright," you said, barely suppressing a shudder as his lips brushed your skin, leaving a soft, yearning kiss.

What has gotten into him today? you wondered.

Astarion finally sunk his teeth into your neck. You let him take one, two, three swallows of your blood before you began talking. You spared no details, telling him what had happened since he'd been hit with a memory spell as steadily as you could with him sucking at your neck.

When he was finished, Astarion licked over the holes in your neck until they stopped bleeding.

"Thank you," he said, uncharacteristically quiet. "For the meal and for staying with me. I can't imagine it was easy work."

You looked up at him, entranced by the flush on his cheeks. You reached up to cup his face, admiring him for a moment before snapping out of your daze. "No, it...it was fine. It was..." You.

A smile twitched at the corners of his lips. Your heart sank into your stomach. He knows. Gods, he knows how I feel.

Astarion took your chin in his hand and lifted your head. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. He looked at you with that sweet, fond look in his eyes for a moment. Then they fluttered shut as he leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.

Your surprise melted quickly into content as his thumb stroked your jaw instead. He tasted vaguely of iron; arousal fluttered through you, your urge only growing more powerful at the taste of your lifeblood on his tongue. Yet it slipped away as Astarion cuddled closer to you, sheltering within your arms, his lips never leaving yours. His soft, barely audible moans, were like an epic poem, his kiss a balm to the worry that had been building in your chest.

He feels it, too.

You broke away for a moment of air. "Astarion," you whispered and he let out a feral growl, chasing your lips eagerly. But for all his eagerness, it was not the kisses he gave you before he ravaged you. He was softer, slower. You felt the promise he was making you in that moment.

The kiss went on. The dynamic changed slowly; his fangs scraped across your lips—his tongue slipped into your mouth—your tongue into his—he suckled on your lower lip—you gently held his lip between your teeth—your fingers curled in his hair—his hand on your neck.

You let Astarion decide when he was done, happy to kiss him slowly. Your hand fell to his chest and rested above his unbeating heart. He hummed into your mouth.

When he did finally pull away, his cheeks were delightfully red, the tips of his ears pink. His eyes fluttered. A slow, content smile formed on his lips.

You kissed his forehead. He turned a deeper shade of red. "Thank you, my Star."

Astarion nuzzled into you. "Darling..." He dropped his mouth to your neck, once again kissing his feeding place. "I don't want to stop."

You smiled. "So don't."

Astarion was kissing you again in an instant, his hands cupping your face, cradling you close. You melted into him, giving control over to your pretty corpse.

You were interrupted by a throat clearing above you just as a shadow fell over the two you. Your lips parted from Astarion's as you both looked up, somewhat guiltily.

Lae'zel stood above you, already ready to move on. "Unstick your maws," she ordered with a snort. "We must go." She left as quickly as she had arrived, but watching after her made it clear the rest of camp had also been watching the two of you.

"Maws," Astarion mused.

"She's right," you said, sitting up. "We should get ready."

Astarion caught your hand and pressed a tender kiss to your fingers. "Alright, my love."

The two of you slipped out of the bedroll. You helped Astarion fix his hair, mussed by sleep and your hands, and then the two of you packed up your belongings quickly to catch up with the others. You hadn't realized just how much time had passed while you got lost with him.

"Good morning!" Gale said cheerily, striding over, a twinkle in his eye. "I see Astarion's regained his memory!"

You glanced up in time to see Astarion blush and give Gale the universal look that meant 'shut up' and realized Gale had known all along. When had the two of them gotten close enough for that? Or was Gale just very good at reading people?

"I have," Astarion said coolly, recovering. "Our lovely leader here has filled me in on what happened while I was...indisposed." He looked awkward for a moment, then continued, "I apologize for shooting you, wizard."

"Apology accepted," Gale said matter-of-factly. He lifted his arm to prove it had healed. "No harm done!"

You finished up with your packing. "Where are we off to today?" you asked Gale. "Have the others decided?"

He pulled a face. "Everyone's got their own ideas," he said tactfully. "I think it'd be best if you decided what we handled first."

You sighed. "You mean that Shadowheart and Lae'zel are trying to kill each other, and I have to stop them and take the heat from whoever I piss off more."

Gale winced. "Yes, something like that."

"Alright. I'll be right there."

Gale nodded and started back toward where the others were gathered. You watched him go with a sigh.

"Is that why Lae'zel interrupted us?" Astarion asked. "Because if she thinks that's a way to gain favor, she's most certainly wrong."

You giggled at him. "Did someone want to keep kissing?"

He tried to hold your gaze, but looked away as his ears turned pink again. "Maybe," he muttered.

You kissed his cheek. "Later," you promised. You offered him your hand. "Come on. Let's get this sorted."

"Alright, my love," he said—a new phrase of his, it seemed—and took your hand. For a moment, he just looked at you, like there was something he wanted to say. You paused.

"What is it?" you asked.

He shook his head, a tiny smile on his lips now. "Nothing." You raised your eyebrow. "We'll talk about it later."

You nodded. "Alright."

You walked toward your bickering companions. Lae'zel was muttering about the creche, Shadowheart adamantly refusing not to go, with Wyll and Karlach trying to placate them both. At least those two weren't still at each other's throats.

The minute Shadowheart saw you, she darted over. "We have to get to the Temple of Shar," she started. "We made so much progress before we reached the goblins—"

"Chk! Our top priority should be the creche—"

Shadowheart glared at the githyanki. "We are not going to the creche!"

"We are going to neither place just yet, and you are both staying here in camp until you learn to get along," you said sharply. You saw Astarion smirk out of the corner of your eye. "Gale, Karlach, you'll come with me and Astarion. We'll see how far we can get and make a decision from there."

Karlach pulled a face. "Are you two going to kiss all day?" she complained.

You rolled your eyes. "That depends on how much you annoy me. Now, come on. I'd like to get going. And for the love of all, can we please avoid memory spells?"

Gale bit back a smile. "Are you certain? It seems to me you've gotten something rather good out of it." He glanced down at your fingers, still twined with Astarion's.

You glanced at Astarion. "Yes," you agreed. "And he is enough for me." You kissed his cheek again. For only his ears, you whispered, "I mean that, you know."

He smiled at you. "I know."

"Good," you said. You kissed him quickly.

You waited for Gale and Karlach to get what they needed with your head resting on Astarion's shoulder. You knew as well as any that you were far from steady; you still had much to talk about. You looked up at Astarion and found a far-off look in his eyes, one that looked a little too much like sorrow for your liking.

Astarion's "nothing" was looking an awful lot like "something."

[Image Caption: I do not give permission to repost, translate, or publish my work on any other site or app by anyone except myself. I do not give permission for my work to be fed into AI (for audio, art, or writing).]

Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Ancunin

Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!} @wayward-hel@cheeslyy@ofmyth-andmagicart@neetheslayer@whispering-depths@freesidexjunkie@lightsinmycity@the0ldmann@gobbodoggo@oooof-ifellforyou@beeblisss@fangboner@aquaarietes@fiercest-eigengrau-skies@niqhtfell@call-me-nyxx@lueji-m@ceres-xiv@tricksy-trinity@graynstairs@rosa-rubus@ynisthatyou@thegoodwitchs-blog@catching-fire-in-the-wind @kiyastrf94 @vincemachina @silverfangmarks @ravenswritingroom @hinata7346 @hellethil @makepastanotwar13 @caramel-hufflepuff @beemiilk @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @starwatch77 @julianmarie @sadexistentialism @supernaturallover15 @writinghound @frankie-mercury @kindadolly @infernalrusalka

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6okuto · 1 year ago

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SPECIALLY MADE

timeskip sakusa x gn!reader

“you know i could have gotten you something for free, right?”

sakusa’s legs are spread, cheek resting against his knuckles as he sits on the couch and watches you.

he wasn’t one to complain about you wearing team merch, especially not when it had his number on it, but he’s still not sure why you didn’t ask him to get you something instead.

“i wanted to surprise you,” you defend yourself. “plus there was a sale.”

“paying nothing is even cheaper.”

“did you hear the first part about it being a surprise?”

kiyoomi replies with a deep breath before standing up. “you could have asked someone else on the team? not hinata or bokuto, but meian could’ve kept a secret.”

as soon as he reaches you, one hand comes up to play with a drawstring while the other finds its way into your front pocket. his fingers quickly intertwine with yours so he can pull you closer, and he smirks at successfully flustering you, even for a second.

“first of all, don’t look at me all smug like that—”

“i don’t know what you're talking about.”

“—second, i know, i thought about it. but official merch of anything is like, always ugly.”

“ours isn’t that bad.”

“yours isn’t that much better than any other team.”

“the colours are good?”

“yeah but the number and logos are always too big. i had this custom-made so it’s cooler.”

and to be fair, kiyoomi couldn’t really disagree. it had the jackal over your heart, claw marks stretching over your side and ‘MSBY’ on your left arm. luckily for him, though it was notably smaller than on the official jerseys, the number 15 and ‘SAKUSA’ were still on the back for everyone to see. even after all of these years, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat or two at the sight of your support.

“now, instead of a boring, normal jersey, i have a one-of-a-kind msby sakusa hoodie just for me.” you smile.

he hums, smiling softly in return. “alright, just for you.”

a beat passes while his eyes take you in again, before kiyoomi suddenly asks, “can i do something, though?”

the next game you come to watch, you get your regular spot close to the court. the team waves when they see you as usual, kiyoomi lingering for a few seconds so you can jokingly shoot a heart his way and he can shake his head.

the difference this time, though, is that you're wearing your new custom hoodie specially signed by your boyfriend in gold lettering, right under his number and last name.

Kiyoomi... i sure hope there arent any typos in this guys

🏷️ | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist @libbyistired @milkbreadforlife @itsukkie

#haikyuu x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu fluff #sakusa fluff #haikyuu x gn!reader

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ryukatters · 1 year ago

Text

9:18 PM — s. geto ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

content: fluff, friends to lovers, sort of self-ship coded, reader dates (shitty) men

pairing: suguru geto x gn! reader

a/n: got suguru on da brain rn. my first work for him! hello geto nation how we doin?? also i had to fight my autocorrect bc it kept changing geto to ghetto 😔

“Surely, you must lack respect for yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me," your best friend scoffs.

It's not uncommon for you to end up at Suguru's doorstep, teary-eyed and sputtering after another failed attempt at romance. But he's hardly ever this mean.

"What's so great about these guys? Tell me."

"They're...nice."

He sighs out your name in exasperation. He never uses that tone on you, ever. "You're literally miles out of their league. And they can't even afford to pay for both of your meals. How many times have you had to pick up the check for you and your date?”

You open your mouth to retort but wisely keep it shut. Suguru merely raises an eyebrow.

"Exactly. How can someone be ugly and broke? Then still have the audacity to reject you? Pick a struggle."

"Well excuse me, mister 'I don't need dating apps because everyone just comes to me.' Not everyone is as fortunate as you are when it comes to romantic prospects."

You're starting to question why you even came here in the first place. Indignation fills you as you slump down on Geto's couch, utterly defeated.

He sits down next to you, placing a gentle hand on your knee with an even gentler look in his eyes. Your best friend's always been so kind, so thoughtful. That, paired with the fact that he's pretty easy on the eyes makes it easy to understand why he has suitors flocking from left and right.

"Hey," he calls out, giving your knee a light squeeze. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"'s fine."

"No, it's not. It was insensitive of me.”

You know what else isn't fine? Geto wants to ask. The fact that you don't know what kind of guy you deserve. He wills himself to keep quiet, for both of your sakes.

"Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something. That you have some karmic lessons you need to learn and all that. You say that all the time."

"I don't know. Maybe...maybe love just isn't in the cards for me, Suguru. I mean, what else could all of this mean?"

You sniffle, and Suguru can feel his heart break into a million little pieces. He wants nothing more than to scoop up the shards and present them to you, in hopes that you can somehow press them back together to make it whole again. The same way you always come running back to him, the same way you trust him to mend your own heart time after time with gentle praise and reassurance.

"Maybe every heartbreak is just bringing you closer to 'the one,’" he offers, the hand that was previously on your knee now rubbing comforting circles on your back.

"Do you honestly believe in that shit, Suguru?" He doesn't blame you for being so cynical. He would be too, he thinks.

"I do," he professes without missing a single beat.

"How?" Not why, but how? How could he possibly understand? How would he know if fate's thrown his so-called one and only his way?

"Because I've felt it," he hums.

“You… have?” You’re not sure why you feel so disappointed all of a sudden. Why should you care if your best friend’s in love with someone?

“Why do you feel the need to look so far for love?” He counters.

“I…”

“Why don’t you try looking at what’s right in front of you for a change?”

That’s about as far as Suguru’s willing to lay it out for you— he hopes you can read in between the lines. Call it insurance— a way for him to spare his own feelings in case you decide he’s unworthy of your affection and toss him to the side of the road.

“Suguru, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to say…”

Yes, you do. Suguru wants to say. Just think a little harder.

There’s a pregnant pause.

When he realizes that you’re unwilling to take another step forward, he figures he needs to just take the leap. Fuck the insurance. He needs to do as he says and prove to you that the trail of heartbreak behind you is all going to be worth it. Because you have him. Suguru can only hope that his love will be more than enough to heal you from a lifetime's worth of pain.

“Give me a chance,” he whispers, his hands enveloping yours as he brings them up to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please. I’ll show you how you deserve to be treated, how you deserve to be loved.”

You gasp, unsure how to receive such a confession— especially one from Suguru, nonetheless. The two of you stay frozen for what seems like an eternity. You— afraid, inexperienced with being on the receiving end of anything remotely romantic. Suguru— tense, confession lying heavy in the room. It weighs down his soul with each passing moment he’s not yours.

“Please,” he pleads, feeling the way your hands tremble in his. Or was it the other way around?

Fear begins to gnaw at Suguru’s insides, thoughts of losing you plaguing his mind as he wills himself to stay calm. He wants nothing more than to shrink into himself— until he hears you speak, tone light and teasing.

“Promise you won’t make me pay for our dinner on our first date?”

Suguru allows himself to let out a genuine chuckle, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

#suguru at some point probably: alexa play you belong with me (taylor's version)#originally written for g*jo but suguru deserves to be in the spotlight too #kat's writing #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #geto x reader #getou x reader #getou x you #geto x you #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru fluff #geto fluff #suguru geto fluff

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felicity-worthington · 1 month ago

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Why is “Doctor Odyssey” a television show that very cleverly shows the depth of the human condition?

So, I have seen some people say that Doctor Odyssey is fun (especially because of Ody3) but also just a superficial show with no plot and I have to politely disagree. I think this show is the opposite, it's just supposed to look silly and superficial at first glance, as you can see when they repeat the phrase "we constructed a paradise" in the weekly recaps.

It is supposed to look like that, it is the idea of a cruise itself, for a week you escape the real world, you enter a new constructed one, which is supposed to be paradise without problems. But here's the thing, here is why there's a doctor and two nurses on this ship: it's just an idea, it's not real.

We especially see this in the episodes "I Always Cry at Weddings" and "Quackers" and of course in the main storyline of Max, Tristan and Avery navigating their relationship and their constant struggle with what they really want in life.

Let's start with "I always cry at weddings" to deconstruct the idea of superficiality with the weekly funny themes and the show only being silly because it's quite obvious here I think. I mean, a man commits suicide in this episode because he's deeply conflicted about what he really wants out of life and how he thinks there is an incurable darkness within him. And we see him, his bride and his best man as an example of how this construction, this idea of heteronormative happiness is just that for a lot of people: just an idea that doesn't guarantee you happiness, but actually destroys lives (not everyone's, of course). And we start this episode superficially, with a couple about to get married on a cruise, the perfect wedding in perfect paradise. But as the episode progresses, we see the cracks and then it gets very real. The scenes with the groom breaking down in the infirmary, the bride talking to Avery and Max after the suicide and her mother's confession are all absolute tearjerkers in the best way. I mean, watch that scene and then tell me again that this show is just a silly Riverdale for adults:

This is actually one of my favorite scenes of the show because the delivery of the line "we need to help this boy" is just perfect, the actress did an amazing job. Also, the character herself says "she pretended her fears away", which underlines the show's idea that this is a paradise where people should just forget their worries, but actually real life catches up with you no matter where you are, you cannot hide from it.

The other example I was thinking of is the latest episode with the Quackers community, which is super silly in a lot of ways and I love that, don't get me wrong.

And then you have this older couple, the leaders (?) of this community, who seem extremely superficial and silly, I mean, going on cruises to go on a quack treasure hunt? So silly. BUT then the cracks start to show again as one of them, the husband (I don't know what his name was, so I'll just call him the husband and her the wife), shows a serious condition, the compulsive urge to swallow objects. When confronted, the wife literally denies it, unable to face the ugly truth. In her world everything is perfect, she and her husband are on a never-ending treasure hunt on paradise cruises, and when something real, something problematic threatens that, she can't accept it at first. And we see that again later in the episode when she refuses to leave the ship:

She wants to stay in paradise, in denial, on the surface. But that's not possible, you can't ignore real life:

But this is her and her husband's dream, an endless paradise in search of ducks, and it's hard to let go and take a deeper look at life and accept that floating through life is a nice idea and might work for a while, but it can't go on forever:

regarding her husbands condition:

Once again the theme of what we want (superficial) and what is really going on (what is behind the construction of paradise) is mentioned.

All of this, and all of the recurring themes I mentioned, are also at play with the three main characters and their constant struggle with what they really want out of life. In a way, their calling to help people is fulfilled by their professions, but then they keep asking themselves, "Is this enough? Is this what I really want out of life, taking one cruise after another?

The theme of constructed ideas versus what is actually going on is also seen in their throuple situation. Max and Tristan have probably always seen themselves as straight, and now they are getting a deeper look at who they are and what they really want out of life. And that is scary, and it often takes years to deconstruct habits and self-image.

But there is no unnecessary weird teenage drama in this show, it is very real. It is supposed to look superficial, you only have to look a little closer to see that it is not.

So once you deconstruct the idea that this is all superficial, you will see that yes, it is silly, so is life and we need those silly and funny moments in life and in this show, but it is also very, very deeply human in many tragic but also good ways.

#doctor odyssey #long post #ody3 #max x avery x tristan #max bankmann #avery morgan #tristan silva #I don't even know if I got everything I wanted to say right and if I got my message across

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citruslullabies · 10 months ago

Note

Catnap X reader

I've got this idea from another author, perhaps the reader is getting too attached to one of the mini catnaps? They spend their time cuddling the little rascal instead of him and he decides to make his displeasure noticed albeit in his own way.

Oh hey, I love that author! Bumblehoneybee is one of my favorites<3

Trigger warnings: none

Romantic/platonic: neutral (unspecified)

Requested by: anonymous

Category: fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): catnap x reader

Word count: 565

Cat Fight

After having redeemed Catnap, you were left to depend on him and for him to depend on you with the little things. Whether that be warmth or cuddles, or defenses, you two always had each other's back in the dark and gloomy place. Catnap just like any cat, loved you and saw you as his person.

And that's why you're in the pickle you're in now. A little smiling critter of Catnap had been spying on you before finally walking up to you while meowing its little head off like a banshee. You looked down at the oddly friendly creature and gasped, smiling and kneeling down to pet it in which it gladly accepted. “Awh! You're so cute!” You cooed to the rather prissy and affectionate feline.

Catnap was just coming back from finding food while Poppy and Kissy Missy were busy looking for routes in the place to keep going, happily coming back expecting your praise but was greeted with basically a smack to the face. He set the food and water down and let his ears fall flat, slowly slinking over to you and staring at the tinier version of himself. “..Mouse, why is this.. thing here?”

The larger feline was not at all happy with this, staring down at the smaller version of him. All of your attention was going onto this cheap little declawed copy of him and he didn't appreciate it.

“Catnap, just look at how cute it is! Hmm..” you thought for a moment, before plucking the little kitty into your arms and feeling your heart melt at the feeling of it nuzzling against you and wrapping its tiny paws around your neck. Catnap let out a low growl as he thought about swatting the little creature out of your arms, but refraining from doing so.

“Ugly little thing..” he hissed despite looking like it, displeased as he picked the food back up to continue moving. Kissy Missy was silent as always when they returned, judging the small cat while Poppy made a few comments here and there but ultimately decided it was fine if it was friendly. The entire walk you were just cradling and cooing at the little cat before you decided on a name, gently pressing your nose against its tiny one. “I'm gonna name you.. Cleocatra!” You said, earning a weirded out look from the larger feline and a purr from Cleocatra. But he said nothing.

When tiredness finally overcame your senses, he was more than happy to get cozy on the floor as you set the cat down despite its screaming protests. He wrapped his tail around your form and gently kneaded at your shoulder, being completely at peace before being disrupted by meows and little paws standing on him. He opened his eyes only to be greeted with a tiny Cleo that was pouty and trying to snuggle in-between them, to which Catnap grabbed it by its scruff and set it down away from the both of you. You spent all day with the little fucker, it was his turn.

But the tiny cat just kept pushing until catnap hissed at it, being quiet so he wouldn't wake you up despite your stirring. The little cat huffed and walked off, flicking its tail at Catnap as if it was a middle finger and snuggling up on top of your backpack instead.

Little shit.

Thank you for requesting!

#cleocatra is based off my actual cat lmao #shes such a prissy little shit #affectionate though and a cutie #smiling critters #catnap x you #catnap x reader #catnap poppy playtime #catnap #poppy’s playtime x reader #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime

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gatorbites-imagines · 9 days ago

Note

Please, please, I'll do whatever you want, just more yautja

Male Elder Yautja OC (Ge'jaar) x male reader

Ficlet

I still don’t really know a whole lot of the yautja lore, but I love them anyways. So, heres me cooking up an oc and hoping it’s somewhat canon because I love yautja and will take any excuse to write about them. Readers somewhat based off of an oc of mine. Reader is also around 6ft 5 inches. Ge'jaar is 9ft or so.

Bako really grew on me for some reason when I wrote this, so lemme know if you guys wanna read about him.

You were old. Very old. You hadn’t kept much track of just how old you were, it didn’t really matter, but you only appeared to be in the 50s or very good 60s. You knew you were a lot older than that, having spent at least 100 years away from earth, hunting. You had returned though, at some point, and settled down in a very defensible cabin far away from much of everything, where you could live in peace with your “dogs”.

Well, you called them dogs, mainly because they walked on all fours and had a tail they’d wag, and followed orders. An ex of yours had called them Kiande amedha, you just called them xenomorphs, or your beetle dogs. Years ago, back when you had successfully killed the bad bloods that kidnapped you and your military unit, you had found this little ugly hissing creature. There was a stereotype that humans would bond with most near anything, and they were right.

You brought the little bugger along on the ship you stole from the now dead bad bloods, which took a long time to figure out how to steer. You named your pet Lucky, and you would later learn she was female. Strangely enough, she seemed to follow you as if you were the queen and not her, so it was all fine. Even if she and her first offspring did kill your ex when he tried to hit and control you. One of her offspring lost a leg in that fight, so obviously his name would be tripod.

Luckily for you, sweet little Lucky didn’t breed like other of her kind. Over the years shed only had about 50 offspring, whom she seemed to raise in the same way you remembered earth dogs would do it, sometimes making you wonder if she was some kind of crossbreed. Having 50 kiande amedha though, made you very dangerous in the eyes of your ex’s species, especially when they learned you controlled them.

Joining the hunt hadn’t been something you had outright planned to do. Or getting juiced up with whatever weird drugs and inventions the clans you were friendly with cooked up. That was why you grew so much taller, and aged so slowly.

Ge'jaar wasn’t part of one of the clans you fought alongside. You two actually met, when a group of young bloods tried to hunt your beetle dogs. Apparently, they thought you would be an easy target, being an ooman and all. Of course, you made sure to show them you weren’t. they successfully killed one of your pets, a spunky one named Hoover because he ate everything. And like any hunter worth their salt, you needed revenge.

It led to some political struggles and conversations between clan elders, since you were pretty much a part of that one specific clan now after so many hunts together.

Ge'jaar wasn’t the leader of his clan, but still counted as an elder. He was handsome, in his own, scaley way. His skin was white and covered in the same dark splotching as all yautja seemed to carry. He wore a lot of the same clothing as most yautja did, and would later on wear a cape you made from the hide of a beast you had hunted.

In the end, Ge'jaar went as far as to apologize and repay you for the dead “hunting hound”. Bako, one of the males from your apparent clan, would later tell you it was because Ge'jaar wanted to fuck you. You were still very salty about Hoover though, so you acted quite nasty and confrontational with Ge'jaar and his clan for a good chunk of years.

The cape Ge'jaar would start to wear, hadn’t even been a gift in your mind. For some reason the elder yautja had followed along for one of your solo hunts, in Bakos words “going on a date” with you. And yes, Ge'jaar was very impressive to watch fight, he was very big and broad, alright? The creatures purple blood sprayed all over his white skin also didn’t help.

You couldn’t even remember what you had said to him, but it must have been some threat or curse as you threw the creatures skin at him, since you only wanted the meat and bones. It made no sense to you at the time why Ge'jaar started wearing the fur, and you hadn’t wanted to ask Bako since the guy had just started cackling at you when he saw it.

It was only years later when you had settled back down on earth, that it really seemed to register to you that Ge'jaar was trying to charm you, in his own yautja way. Still feeling so angry about Hoovers death, even if Ge'jaar himself didn’t do it, you took all the hunting and dead creatures by your ship and hut as a threat or challenge. All the jewelry and armor as harder to explain, and you still had the book about yautja mythology somewhere on your shelf.

At that point, you had just assumed Ge'jaar moved on, since you hadn’t seen him in so long. The only yautja you truly spoke much too nowadays was Bako and those from his clan. And of course, the ones that still owed you favors, just to remind them you were still alive to cash in on it.

You had just returned from one of your trips to the nearest large city, a trip that took you almost two weeks since everything was far away, when you saw him again. Or rather, one of your beetle dogs saw him, a young one named Blue, since his dome of a head reflected blue more than the rest.

Blue had been born, laid? On earth, and had seen very little true combat, so you assumed that was why he was the friendliest of them all. Where most of Lucky’s offspring that had known space and combat stuck to the shadows and settled in the cave system near your cabin, Blue was a real lapdog.

Friendly enough it seemed, to just accept an intruder in your home. Stepping out of your truck, Blue trotted out of your cabin door, which was wide open, looking as happy as a clam with dried meat in his maw. There was a feeling in the air that you weren’t alone, so grabbing at your beloved weapon of choice, you were about to fall back into old habits.

That was until Ge'jaar of all people, stepped out of your cabin, wearing one of your shirts. Well, trying to wear one of your shirts. It was one of the largest shirts you owned, old and worn with some odd shape on the front that might have been a logo once.

The elder yautja looked very comfortable, right at home honestly, his dreadlocks pulled into a bun on the back of his large head, and a damn sleeve of cookies in his massive hand. The confusion must have been so clear on your face, as the retired hunter chittered and laughed, moving closer to help you lug stuff back into your cabin and into your massive basement.

The confusion was strong enough that you just kinda went along with it, moving everything from your large truck and away from sight until you needed it. It was only after you both sat down on the couch that you took notice of the minor changes to your home, it looked very much like Ge'jaar had just moved himself in.

You could have smacked him right then and there, maybe cut all his dreadlocks off and made him swallow his mandibles, but somehow the massive scarred yautja made himself look so innocent and borderline lovable.

Blue, the little fucker, just got comfortable on a large fur Ge'jaar had laid out across the floor, tail whipping all over and knocking trinkets off your coffee table. The little traitor, you knew you spoiled him too much.

It took a lot of explanation from Ge'jaar, and you had a feeling if you hadn’t lived amongst his people for so long you might have lost it, but apparently Ge'jaar had made some plea to his clan leader, and yours since apparently you still counted as one of those, and you two were pretty much married without your approval.

Well, or so you would say, but all your guy’s “dates” and all the “gifts” you passed between you counted as courting. You settling down back on earth just appeared to be retirement in their eyes. It wasn’t like you still hated Ge'jaar, you never really had thinking back, it just… came as quite a surprise.

Ge'jaar still kept on courting you, even when you fed most of the things he caught to Lucky and her offspring. The elder yautja took your claim that Lucky was your child to heart, clicking and purring when she, and by extent her offspring, finally accepted his presence.

Time was a true blur out in the mountains, you only really noticed it by the seasons passing and you needing to go back into town two or three times a year to stock back up. But soon enough Ge'jaar was part of your life, and yes, you still snipped and bit at him sometimes, but this time it was meant as flirting.

Your mate, since that’s what you guys were now, was so patient and seemed to find your human nature endearing enough to pick up on some of it himself. It still felt very weird to be given flowers by a seasoned hunter like Ge'jaar, or to walk in on him watching Gilmore girls with Blue draped across his lap, but you got used to it.

It was probably best that you and Ge'jaar were the ones to get together, since he was older, had already had all the offspring he wanted. The yautja was also confident enough in himself that he didn’t get jealous the same way your ex had. Ge'jaar was hot and he knew this even in his fluffy robe and slippers, though you couldn’t help but miss him in his netting and weapons at times.

It turned out to be a lot more comfortable than you had thought to retire, with your mate who had to be hundreds of years older than you, and your many, many beetle dogs. There were times you debated on going out for a hunt again, as a date, for old times sake, but that was something you would need to discuss with Ge'jaar first.

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candycandy00 · 7 months ago

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The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Very rough sex! Violence. Blood. Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

“Sukuna!”

Your voice doesn’t sound like it belongs to you as you cry out his name. You’re behind him, unable to see where he was stabbed, but blood is pooling at your feet.

The man who attacked you is suddenly thrown back, his body slamming into the deck. Sukuna turns to face you, and you see that the dagger has stabbed completely through his forearm. It frightens you, but you can’t help being relieved that he hasn’t been hit in a vital spot.

Several other pirates run over and grab the attacker, holding him down. His face is shoved down against the deck.

“He must have stowed away at the port,” one of them says to Sukuna.

The captain walks over to the man, seeming completely unfazed by the knife stuck in his arm. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. But your plan was weak.”

The man grunts in frustration, trying in vain to break free. “Murderer! You’ll burn in hell for what you’ve done!”

Sukuna grins down at him. “Maybe I’ll fuck your fiancé when I get there. Oh wait, you said her body was found on the ship. She must have been an ugly, worthless cunt if I didn’t bother bringing her to my ship for my men to fuck.”

The man’s face twists in rage and despair, and he screams. No words, just a guttural howl of fury. And mid scream, Sukuna brings his boot down on the man’s head, cracking it open like watermelon. You turn your face away. You’ve seen bloodshed before, on your own ship, but it doesn’t make this any less gruesome. And even though the man tried to kill you, you can’t help feeling sorry for him. He lost someone precious to him in a horrific way. That would drive anyone to madness.

Sukuna turns to you. “Let’s go back to my quarters.”

You look at his arm and then back to his face. “But, the dagger! You need to-“

“I need a strong drink!” he says, grinning to his men. They cheer their captain, and one of them hurries off to get that drink.

Sukuna takes you by the hand and pulls you along with him. On the way back to his cabin, one of the pirates hands him a full bottle of rum.

Once inside, he shuts the door and heads over to his bed to sit down. He opens the bottle of rum and takes a long drink.

“Don’t you have a doctor on this ship?” you ask, moving over to him.

“I do, but I’m not going to him.”

“What?! Why not? You’ve got a dagger in your arm! When you pull it out, you’ll bleed to-“

“I’m the captain of this ship,” he says firmly. “I can’t show weakness in front of my men. It would be better to die from an injury than to be killed in a mutiny and have my legacy tarnished.”

“That’s ridiculous!” you shout, realizing a second later that it’s the first time you’ve raised your voice to him outside of your screams during sex.

He puts one hand on the hilt of the dagger. “It’ll be fine. I’ve had worse wounds.”

“Wait!” you yell, then hurry over to the dresser to pull out a fresh sheet. You rip it into strips. “You’ll need to bandage it quickly!”

He takes another drink of the rum, then jerks the dagger out and drops it to the floor. Blood begins pouring out of the wound at an alarming rate. He pours some of the rum over it, not even wincing at the burn, then reaches for the strips of cloth.

You rush over and grab them, holding his arm out and beginning to wrap it up. Sukuna pulls his arm free. “I can do it myself! I’m not depending on a woman to-“

“Twice now!” you suddenly say, cutting him off. “Twice now you’ve told me to touch you as I please! This is how I please! Will you go back on your words, Captain?”

He stares at you for a moment, then laughs. “You’re right. Do as you wish then.”

He holds still from then on and lets you bandage his arm tightly. It takes more cloth than you expected, forcing you to tear up more strips, and Sukuna finishes off the rum. When finished, you sigh and sit on the bed beside him. “We’ll have to change it every couple days or so, and watch out for infection. But I think this has stopped the bleeding.”

He looks at you, his eyes slightly glazed from the rum and the blood loss. “Why are you doing this? You should be trying to kill me yourself.”

“You only got stabbed because you stood in front of me,” you tell him. “Why did you do that?”

He scoffs, looking away from you. “I told you before. I’m not done playing with you yet. I intend to enjoy you thoroughly before the end of this voyage.”

It strikes you then that this is the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. Injured and weakened, while still maintaining his smug persona. But there’s something in his demeanor, in his eyes, that feels different. He leans just slightly against you, the shoulder of his injured arm touching yours.

You reach one hand over and place it carefully on his bandages. His body feels warm next to you. “Thank you for protecting me,” you say quietly.

He meets your gaze, wearing a mysterious expression. “I’m an injured man. Are you going to comfort me, woman?”

You suddenly feel hot, almost feverish. You realize there’s a part of you that’s been wanting to touch him all evening. You stand up from the bed and move to stand in front of him. As he watches, you slowly pull off the lovely new dress and drape it over a nearby chair, then you step closer until you’re standing between his legs.

His uninjured arm circles around you, pulling you so that your body is pressed firmly against him. You wrap your arms around his neck and he tilts his head up slightly. You kiss him, deeply and passionately, your lips smashed into his, your tongue slipping into his hot, rum coated mouth.

You feel a hand softly squeezing your breast, and look down to see that he’s using his bandaged arm. You wonder absently if flexing his fingers like this hurts his wound. But then his mouth moves down, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone before closing around your hardened nipple, his wet tongue flicking at it.

Your breathing gets faster as you snake your hands down to open his pants. Unsurprisingly, he’s already hard, his huge cock standing up straight and proud. You position yourself above it, then slowly sink down, wincing slightly at how he stretches you.

He’s staring at your face, his expression calm, as if he hasn’t just been stabbed, as if there’s not a naked woman currently in his lap, struggling to take his entire cock. You want to make him react, to see his handsome face display the pleasure you give him, so you lower yourself further down, gasping when you feel that he’s all the way in.

You sit there for a moment, your arms wrapped around him, face pressed into his shirt, giving yourself time to adjust to his massive size. It’s a luxury you don’t normally get. Strangely, he doesn’t rush you to begin moving, or thrust up into you. His good arm simply remains wound around your back.

Once you’re ready, you pull back slightly to look him in the eyes as you gradually begin moving up and down. Your hands slip down and begin unbuttoning his shirt. You’re struck by the urge to feel his muscled torso against your skin, to see those alluring tattoos. Once his shirt is open, your fingers slide beneath it, your palms rubbing over his chest.

You know you’re playing a dangerous game. These feelings you’re experiencing will only bring you pain. Another pirate sneeringly told you that Captain Sukuna never keeps or releases his women. Without exception he always either kills them or hands them over to his men once he’s done playing with them. The pirate seemed to think it would be the latter, and you cringed when his eyes roved over you.

How will you feel when he decides he’s tired of you? When he’s stabbing you to death? When he’s laughing and watching his men take turns with you?

You can’t imagine it, but you also can’t fight what you’re feeling right now as you sink down to the base of his cock again, taking quick shuddering breaths as you maintain eye contact with him.

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

Sukuna still doesn’t know exactly why he protected her. He tells himself it’s probably because he didn’t want to lose his plaything for the rest of the voyage. But the truth is, he moved without thinking, as if it were a reflex.

And now, that beautiful, delicate flower he protected is riding him so well. His instinct is to throw her onto the bed and fuck her violently, but there’s something appealing about watching her take the lead, watching her take his cock so very deep of her own accord. Her motions are slow, but deliberate, intimate. She clenches him tightly, her eyes full of lust, her lips plump and swollen from their kiss.

She leans her head down, and he feels her wet little tongue on his chest, licking along the black lines of ink. Ah, such a sweet maiden. He could stay buried inside her forever.

What is he going to do with her? The thought of any of his men touching her, experiencing her tight, velvety pussy for themselves, fills him with intense anger. And he can’t bring himself to snuff out her existence.

He pushes these thoughts to the back of his mind. No use thinking about it now, while she’s wrapped around him so pleasingly. She pushes down again, taking him all the way in, and her soft hands tremble as her breaths hitch. Her face looks blissful, her expression rapturous.

“You’re… so deep… inside me,” she says, now gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Feels… so good!”

Sukuna has never done this before, never allowed a woman to climb onto him and fuck herself on his cock as she pleases, going so slowly and carefully. He’s always only cared for his own pleasure, which he got from pounding into women as roughly as possible, enjoying their screams and the friction of fucking them so hard.

But looking at the unbelievably beautiful woman before him, he’s beginning to understand the appeal of fucking this way. Watching such a pure, innocent maiden’s face glow with pleasure just from having his cock inside her is making him feel heated in a way he’s never experienced before.

Her eyes are locked onto his, and she suddenly appears shy. Funny, considering she’s completely naked, breasts bouncing in front of his face as her slick pussy moves up and down his shaft. “Does it… feel good… for you?” she asks as she continues moving, clearly craving validation from him.

He grins at her. “Feels so good, I’m going to completely fill your womb with my cum.”

She sighs, closing her eyes as if she’s content. Then her arms are around him again, her body pressed to his, and he can feel her heartbeat through her skin. It’s beating so fast as she moves her hips in a circular motion, moaning when his cock hits the right spot inside her.

When she cums, she clamps down on him, and he can feel her shuddering as her heart races. Sukuna has never truly felt another human being so deeply before, been so connected to another person, and for a brief moment, even he is overwhelmed. A throaty moan escapes his lips, and she immediately looks at his face, her eyes wide. In the heat of the moment, he only wants to feel more of her, so he pulls her into a kiss, their tongues mingling, until he reaches release.

As promised, he fully coats her insides with his seed, wanting to dye her in his colors completely.

The pain in his arm is all but forgotten as they stay there on the bed, melded into each other.

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

For the next several days, things are back to what you call normal on this ship. Sukuna goes back to being rough with you, but your body has slowly begun to enjoy it, to a certain degree.

For as long as you live, you’ll never forget the sheer intimacy of that night, when he was gentle with you for the first time. You felt like the two of you became one, if only for a few moments. You long to experience that again, but Sukuna has shown no inclination towards repeating that night.

The end of the two weeks is quickly approaching, and you feel dread building in the pit of your stomach. Your only plan is to beg Sukuna to kill you swiftly, because dying by his hands would be preferable to being handed over like a piece of meat, discarded and unwanted.

So on the eve before your last day, before the ship will dock at their destination, you feel extremely anxious as you wait in Sukuna’s quarters. When he walks in, you stand up from the bed, holding your hands in front of you nervously.

“We’ll reach land in the morning,” Sukuna tells you. “We’re just spending a few days there to resupply and rest.”

You nod, wondering why he’s bothering to tell you.

He looks at your worried face, and he’s silent for a moment. You have your plea prepared in your mind. You’ll as him to give you a quick and painless death. But he sighs and sits in his chair. “When we dock, you’ll leave the ship. I’ll give you enough gold to buy passage to wherever you were going.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped. “What?”

“I’m letting you go,” he says. “You can return to whatever life you were living.”

Your fists are now balled at your sides. Your whole body is shaking as tears sting your eyes. “How dare you!” you suddenly shout.

Sukuna blinks, surprised by your outburst.

“You kidnap me,” you begin, “have your way with me, make me fall in love with you, then send me away?! How could you?!”

His eyes widen slightly, then that smug grin you’ve grown to love spreads over his face. “So you’ve actually fallen for me?”

You feel your cheeks burning. You didn’t intend to confess your feelings this way. But the cat’s out of the bag now. “Yes, I have. And I won’t be thrown off the ship like a stowaway!”

Sukuna stands up and steps over to you. “If you stay, I can’t guarantee anything. I might end up doing something truly heinous to you.”

You look up at him. “I understand.”

He puts one hand on your face, his thumb grazing your lips. “I won’t go easy on you just because you love me. I’ll still fuck you whenever I want, as hard as I want.”

You swallow, then slowly nod. “I can accept that.”

His eyes seem to soften. “But I suppose… fucking you gently every now and then wouldn’t be so bad.”

He leans in and kisses you softly. When he pulls away, you steel your resolve and say, “I have a request.”

There’s a hint of surprise on his face as he says, “Oh? And what would that be? More dresses? We can get some when we dock.”

“No more women,” you say.

He laughs. “Jealous already? I don’t intend to take a woman for myself while I already have one who pleases me.”

“No, I mean… no taking any women. At all.”

“The men will hate you,” he says, though he’s still smiling.

“I was thinking about this. There should be women willing to come aboard and… entertain the crew if they’re paid or perhaps given free passage to somewhere they’d like to go.”

“You mean whores.”

That’s not a word you’re comfortable using, but you nod. “Yes. And wouldn’t the men be better served by women who choose to be here, who have experience pleasuring men?”

“I’ll consider it,” he says, then he suddenly jerks your body to him and wraps his arms around you. His wound seems to be healing well. “Now take off this dress before I rip it off. You’ll need something to wear when we disembark tomorrow.”

You slide the dress up and over your head. “Will you be gentle with me tonight?” you ask.

His hands are already exploring your body. “Not when you ask me so sweetly. It only makes me want to ravage you more.”

Your fingers are tracing his tattoos. “But I wanted to feel you tonight, all the way to my core, while I ride you.”

He pauses, looking into your eyes. “You’ve bewitched me, woman.”

You smile at him as he takes your hand and leads you to the bed. Your true voyage has only just begun.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #candys2kevent

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raguiras · 5 months ago

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SKETCH COMIC: Deuce/Yuu at the beach

Reblogging is highly appreciated! 🥹🙏

AAAAA finally another Spade of Storms post! Today is their 150 days anniversary, so I just HAD to post!! More coming soon ^^

♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

NOTE: My Yuu is named Allen and primarily uses he/him pronouns. However, I tend to change this in comics for general insert purposes.

Part 3 of the relationship timeline (= how they finally got together) below the cut!