#why is their ship name ugly????
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clementinecalls · 1 year ago
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this is what fanon brett x nolan is
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pixiatn · 3 months ago
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Ngl, I kinda ship Anthony and Peri cause I think it's funny (that's a lie, I'm actually an incredible visionary who thinks Peri should be shipped with someone who's NOT Dale Dimmadome cause Peri deserves better than that ugly man)
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frootloopsl · 5 months ago
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yaoi so fucking dead i just refer to them as my ocs to my friends
oh and the other one too
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peevishpants · 2 years ago
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trying 2 draw the disco elysium cast and struggling so hard bc my natural instinct is to make them generic-hot but it would be a disservice to every character especially kim and harrier dubious and i need to fight it every step of the way
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looksmaxxing-magnus · 8 months ago
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when the rarepair so rare you gotta pretend shit like this is fanart
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petorahs · 10 months ago
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i find it funny how i literally dont have an opinion on makotoaigis… like i will rb art of them together but i dont do it thinking theyre romantic or anything i just like seeing them together. if it's drawn with actual romance in mind then that's cool too, just not how i'd see it. either way i like them together.
i love both of their characters individually.. which is also peculiar considering a large part of the reason why i like them is their relation and devotion to one another
i think they go beyond what is romantic and platonic theyre just soulmates to me… its enough. they dont need to put a name to it. i will still get emotional over that scene and that other scene and still would want to buy merch of them together it doesnt have to mean anything... they're just there for eachother forever. in every lifetime. to ME.
(that being said! hamugis and ryomina solos <3 i will always want them to kiss that is for certain)
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maxwell-wagnerbutolder · 1 year ago
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Trees, Leaves, and a Flower
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kii-nami · 2 years ago
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every time someone calls scaramouche scara or kuni, one year gets taken from my lifespan
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6okuto · 1 year ago
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SPECIALLY MADE
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timeskip sakusa x gn!reader
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“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.
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Kiyoomi... i sure hope there arent any typos in this guys
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ryukatters · 1 year ago
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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 😔
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“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.”
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afewfantasies · 1 month ago
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"WARRIOR ⛊" - Feyd-Rautha X Reader
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ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.4K
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader
ᴘʟᴏᴛ: Feyd needs an Army, your planet has the best in the galaxy. Uncertain if he should deem your planet friend or foe he lands to treat with your father. It's not in his plans to meet a secret bastard daughter that quickly becomes the object of his fascination and desire. The reader is a warrior in this.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: NSFW, 18+, intercourse and oral. Mild knife and blood aspects.
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FAMILY ...
You watch sweat bead from your fathers forehead as you refill the cups for hour four of this council meeting. Your ears are astute while your eyes and head remain low. On a few occasions you look to your brother who you find is positively unimpressed with the strategy being put forth. 
“To the Harkonnen we are a threat that is better eradicated, we can offer them nothing they wouldn't take on their own. An alliance is futile, they would only place us on the front lines to be killed en masse first when we are best saved for after the bombings” your brother speaks finally. Their future King.
“Then  what would you have us do, wage all out war? Have you heard nothing of Feyd-Rautha” your father responds, sending a shiver down your spine. The screeching of a chair being pushed out sounds.
“Do as you wish and I will stand by it father” your brother snaps tossing his stone in the bowl as is custom. He walks off with his flowing robes leaving the room silent. You remain as his second pair of ears, only no progress is made before the meeting comes to an end. Relieved of your duties as a cupbearer you head into your chambers to be dressed for combat training. Looking up you see ugly ships in the shy looking to land. The alarms sound signalling for the people to adhere to curfew protocols as the Harkonnen land. You pause from what you had planned and send a communication to the armed forces to be ready for anything. You station your best fighters to disperse within the city, and those in training to man the evacuation routes and tunnels. Heading to the control room you find your brother looking at live footage of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen the new Baron and infinitely more treacherous than the first.
“Find me a weakness that saves our people” he says with his head bowed. You nod honoured to be trusted with the fate of the people. Swallowing you turn heading back to the palace to perform your duties.
LEGITIMACY …
It’s the next morning when you finally find Feyd-Rautha court is a shuddering mess of whispers and the palace has been purged of all women. The fear of being sullied by a Harkonnen is too much for the nobles to bear.
“They have been in council since dawn” the guard at the door says as you go to enter it gives you pause. “Women have been asked to leave. The foreign concubines have been brought in” he continues.
“Thank you” you nod understanding the need for fear but not welcoming it. Feyd-Rautha is Geidi Primes only heir and he is in your home world. “Do not cower, it is unbecoming of a warrior” you advise. Heading to the great hall you move stealthy among the men filtering all of their whispers. When they fall flat you look up to see him. Feyd-Rautha. The halls clear and you head outside knowing the route he’ll likely take to his quest quarters. You sit by the pools humming as you watch the floating lily pads, when a terrifying reflection looks at you through the water.
”I wish I was more frightened” you comment looking over at the Harkonnen legend. Feyd-Rautha, a man so feared few uttered his name aloud without shuddering. The stories and recollections that did follow were equally as harrowing, only right now all that stands before you is a man.
“Why should you be terrified?” Feyd asks, turning to the side like a predator ready to play with his food. You tap on a shield and the smile that escapes him is full and dimpled.
“I’ve heard enough stories to exercise caution.” You explain and he nods.
“Such as?”
“If you’re displeased you take the lives of those who’ve displeased you. If you are offended depending on the level, death can be very painful. And people whisper that you revel in it, they throw around big words” you speak candidly.
“Such as?” he asks intrigued.
“Tyrant, psychopath, madman, warlord” you disclose.
“I haven’t heard anything about you” he comments and if you were anyone else perhaps it would sting a little. Smiling, you nod appreciating the honesty in his remark.
“A great man has many sons, illegitimate daughters are only of use should the sons fail. I have five brothers - they’ve afforded me the freedom of invisibility.” you explain.
“Invisibility” Feyd repeats and you look him over again deciding to play with fire. You disengage the shield. “How does an invisible woman find a husband?” he probes.
“Husband?” You ask amused. “If you ever were to hear anything about me it would be that absolutely nobody wants to marry me. I’m quite undesirable” you confess.
“What would they say?” He raises his browless brow bone.
“Who? Women or men?” you ask to be sure.
“Women?” he asks, showing his famed black smile.
“They’d say my mother is a whore who knows no shame and that shame is all I bring my father.” you smile.
“The men?”
“Men who would gossip about me are not worth listening to or considering” you shrug.
“Fair enough” Feyd nods as you take in his features without fear. He doesn’t recall the last time someone was brave enough to lay eyes on him. The palace doors open out, walk your brothers, advisors and father. Feyd watches as you put your head down  heading in to line the table with glasses as pleasantries are exchanged. The break is short and has moved the council outdoors. It means there is a potential for hostility. Feyd catches you signing to one of your brothers as you pour wine into the empty glasses. Once everything is situated you refill the gourd of wine placing it on the table as is custom for the men to pour. Feyd catches one of your advisors eyes lingering on your breasts. When your task is complete you bow to your father who nods dismissively, you take your leave.
LEGACY …
It was seldom that men didn’t cower in his presence, that they seemed more preoccupied with the issues at hand than Feyd’s own lore. Your family had a reputation for being straightforward and your brother for being valiant. He expected arrogance and self importance but all he encountered was a soldier. There was no posturing or small talk. Your eldest brother was straight to the point. Unlike Rabban, Feyd could see genuine respect among the siblings and care. There were no power plays or attempts to usurp inheritances; everyone seemed content in their place. His usual tactics to sow chaos wouldn’t work. Passing the training grounds Feyd stops. He watches a formidable combattant training young recruits in hand to hand combat.
“Your soldiers are some of the best” Feyd remarks honestly.
“As are yours” your eldest brother nods.
“We’re known for brutality, you for skill” Feyd attempts flattery.
“Dead men have no preference” your brother says matter of fact. The sight of the eldest son has the recruits fall into salute. Feyd nods impressed.
“At ease” he says when he realises your brother has given him the respect of calling the force.
“Pardon me” you call removing your helmet. Feyds surprise is evident at your appearance and at your fighting ability; he'd never seen a woman train men. He’d never seen a woman fight so well.
“Y/N” your brother nods.
“Brother, I was wondering … what of the sparring custom?” you ask.
“No” your brother says plainly, shocking you. Feyd looks between you as you swallow bowing and falling into line.
“What sparring?” Feyd asks.
“As a means of education a member of our force would spar with one of yours to a position of yielding. Afterwards the fight would be broken down and analysed for learning and training purposes”
“So why is it not happening?” Feyd asks.
“As head of your force one of ours would have to fight you. It’s treason” your brother says.
“Are you not the head of your force?” Feyd asks your eldest brother.
“No, it’s a great risk for an heir to be” your brother explains looking between the two of them you nod.
“Sorry for the interruption, good day” you nod, turning.
“Who is the head of your force?” Feyd asks suspiciously.
“Right there” your brother points to you as you retake your arms.
“A woman?” Feyd asks.
Your brother nods. “She’s earned it”
“Why does no one speak of her?” Feyd inquired.
“Many think it unwise? If word were to travel other disgruntled young women may take up arms against their intended to avoid marriage.” he explains.
A puzzled Feyd looks up. “What?”
“She started receiving suitors at thirteen. She would choose soldiers to fight on her behalf if the gentlemen couldn’t win they couldn’t have her hand. Of course it garnered great sport and then when she was eighteen she desired to fight for herself. That slowed things down a touch. Most men don’t want to bloody their bride. Those who attempted mercy were driven to the brink of social conduct by my sisters off hand provocations. When the previous commander passed she auditioned and won the position” your brother explains one of the planet's best kept secrets.
“Curious” Feyd comments. “If it’s custom” Feyd says watching you with his snake eyes.
“She would never yield,” your brother warns, knowing it’s not in your capability.
“Then to first blood” Feyd proposes. Your brother tells you to stand down in your language causing Feyds eyes to perk up. You take a step back before bowing to the men. 
“It is impossible.” Your brother says with weariness and you head back to your men.
“I promise not to disfigure or maim your sister” Feyd promises.
“I’m not worried for my sister, with much respect”  he says, making Feyds mouth water.
CUSTOMS …
You brush out your hair before braiding it for the night when a shadowy figure emerges in the doorway. All of your staff wear white while this figure is clad in all black. Holding your brush you turn to face him as he emerges from the shadows. You see Feyd-Rautha. His black smile contrasts against this alabaster skin. A Harkonnen legend in the flesh and in your chambers. You go to stand but he holds his hand out to stop you. He looks around at your chambers noting the contrast from Primes sterility. He closes the distance between you in moments.
“You were proposed as a concubine to Paul according to my mentat but you refused”  Feyd says having done his research while deciding what was to be done about your planet and people.
“I don’t like excessive heat” you explain and he smiles. “Would you like me to train a force of your men?” You ask to pick his brain.
He gives you a black smile, “I would like to spar with you.”
“I don’t yield” you warn, standing slowly in your night silks.
“To first blood?” Feyd proposes.
“I’d like to keep my teeth and nose” you set your boundaries.
“You will,” he nods.
“Shall I fetch my armour?” you ask the Harkonnen salivating over your figure.
“No, hand to hand” he says.
“What should I get in return?” you ask stepping into the open area of your chamber.
“Whatever you like” he offers, at the liberty to provide it.
“An infinite amount of time to decide”  you smile knowing what you want already.
“Deal” Feyd rasps with a smile too sinister to be good.
“What do you want?” you ask.
“Have you ever been with a man?” He asks his mind on sex.
“I’m a soldier, of course I have been” you respond and he smiles. “I’ve sullied myself” you speak in society’s terms.
“If I win-” Feyd begins.
“You won’t” you smile swinging first. He dodges with a wide smile. Your heart races knowing it’ll be a good fight. His style is brutal and aggressive. But you’ve learned the Harkonnen style first. All hits are superficial. Until Feyd lands a blow that knocks the wind out of you. Anger surges and you cut him with his holster. Black blood drips as you fight for breath.  Feyd steps shocked at his loss as he watches his arm drip. You fight for breath still hoping he’s true to his word. You regain your breath as he snaps out of his stupor. Taking a cloth from your vanity, you tie it around the gash to stop the blood flow. His dark eyes focus on all of your features, unable to decide whether to take your life or indulge in passions of the flesh. He notes your hands are remarkably soft for a woman capable of such brutality.
“Your back will ache in a few hours” he rasps, speaking first. “We have our remedies should you want to save yourself the discomfort” he says speaking of the blow he’d landed.
“No thank you” you whisper.
“You don’t trust me” Feyd’s instincts are spot on.
“When you’re a woman people enjoy hurting to keep yourself from being a victim, you learn to enjoy the pain” you explain. Your words stroke all the right flames within him. Looking down he’d been right about you. There was no fear. Feyd takes a fistful of your nightgown, lifting it slowly in anticipation. When he’s met without resistance he removes it from your body. He sees scars scattered across your skin in varying depths caused by varying blades. The heat of anger and protectiveness surges.
“Why haven’t they been treated?” he asks, placing his hand against one of the scars that has healed quite bad.
“It’s our way to honour the fallen. Great warriors are remembered by their scars. My skin says I’ve met many.” you explain wearing your wounds with honour.
“Or that you took a long time to learn your skill” Feyd chides with eyes full of mischief. 
“Once blood is drawn in combat by a cut it's our custom that you submit to the person who bested you, or become a sword or a slave if they will have you” you explain as Feyd eyes your breasts.
“What is my fate?” Feyd muses.
“How fares the Harkonnen?” You ask finding the zip to remove his armour. He’d never been undressed before by a woman whom was already naked or a woman that had cut him. Holding his arms out he watches as you remove it tossing the pieces onto the floor. He could feel the blood rushing to him manhood full of passion for you. Looking up at him as you remove his armoured gloves.
“I’d like a pair from your personal collection.” You tell him honestly. He’d never engaged in combat prior to sex either.
“I’ll see to it,” he says. “Or you could come to Prime and make your own selections” he offers with ulterior motives.
“And become your captive?” you smile finished with the task. A strong chest and an even stronger core is bare for you to see. Circling him you find a chiselled back. There’s no bulk, you note his power comes from within instead of the armour's added mass. 
“I don’t think you can be made to do anything, much less stay where you don’t want to be.” He whispers as you sink into a squat.
“I only win all the time because I know when not to play” you smile using his belt to bring him to you. You unfasten the clasp as Feyd stands completely bewitched. You never break eye contact with Feyd; his concentration is like no other. Freeing his manhood, it springs free. His size is impressive. You don’t realise you’re smiling until he makes a guttural sound in awe of your reaction. Taking his sceptre into your hand gently you feel the weight of him in your forearm. It’s an act of submission in itself for him to be weaponless as you hold his prized possession, his legacy and virility. Your mouth waters at the round tip.
“Permission granted” he says after having waited too long.
“Be gentle with me, I will appear in court tomorrow” you tell him. He nods ever so slightly but you place no trust in his promise. Taking him into your mouth you revel in the ability to be the undoing of dangerous men. Your tongue traces his length before your jaw slacks to take him in. Your cheeks tighten and his head falls back from the suction. His grip is firm on the back of your head as it bobs from the strokes. His body reacts quickly as does yours from his arousal. Your hands slip along his slick manhood. Your strokes are tighter.
You use your hands and mouth unable to watch him as you try to send him over the edge. You find yourself moaning with him as he whispers praise and sweet nothings. Your flesh rises, tiny hairs standing at attention. White hot arousal envelopes you as your eyes find his again as you suckle him. His eyes are weary. His hips tick gently guiding his manhood back into your mouth slightly. Taking control of the pace Feyd’s hips thrust slow and deliberate challenging how much of his length you can manage.
“Good girl” he rasps going deeper with every thrust before giving you enough reprieve to breathe. His eyes are wild with arousal. You didn’t think him capable of pleasure without brutality. You’re even more impressed when he pulls you back from him abruptly holding you by your hair as he curses. It takes a moment to realize he’s trying to ward off a climax. You release his fist and dim the lights before padding over to your bed where he may come find you.
Once partially recovered Feyd is a moth to a flame. The path to your bed is lit with sconces. His acute hearing listens for the pads of your feet hitting against the marble. The darkness adds to the experience. Only when he enters your bedroom he hears the sound of water and turns to find a waterfall along the wall in front of the large bed. He takes steps down to the sunken area. The bed sits high in the middle lifted on a platform instead of taking the step up. He has an idea.
“Come here” he calls, holding out a pale hand. The bed is at his perfect waist level. “Open your legs” he instructs and one after the other you follow suit spreading them open for him. His eyes say it all as he comes in for a kiss. You’re taken aback when he slips one finger in. The kiss is broken and Feyd growls bringing your head back to his as he nips your bottom lip kissing your harder and adding another finger as he begins to stroke them skillfully. He’s unlike most warriors that are poor lovers. There’s no theatrics. When your eyes close you are in a bid for control as he takes you out of the present into planes of pleasure you’ve never frequented. There’s a seamless transition as he enters you going deep. He sheathes himself inside of you leaving you to gasp. His body is strong and rigid.
“Look at me” he demands drawing you back. Your eyes open and he appears first as a shadow, and then as Feyd-Rautha. There’s a brutality to his love making and an attention to detail that leaves you in delirium. A skilled combatant that knows how to use every inch of his body. The slapping contact of skin is felt and heard as his hands hold firm all over you. You can feel him tense and in a bid for control you slap him breaking the kiss as he fucks you into the bed. Shocked he pulls back robbing you of the contact. But Feyd-Rautha isn’t going to give you anything. Using his surprise to you out manoeuvre him so he’s lying beneath you.
“Relax” you whisper, mounting him and beginning to ride. He’s the best you’ve ever had. When the praise turns to curses you know he’s close. Sitting up Feyd fights for control, kissing you as you clench around him. The orgasm that rips through the both of you is a shared effort. Feverish breaths follow as your bodies fight to stabilise. Never breaking the intimate contact Feyd lifts you onto your sides so you’re both laying on the bed. Even after such a powerful orgasm he’s still hard. It feels incredible. Laying beside him you find beauty in his ferocity and Feyd initiates a kiss that is surprisingly soft and intimate. He roots himself deeper enjoying the closeness. You wonder if it’s a Harkonnen thing or if it’s just Feyd and smile. Your hands trace the now blackened cloth around his arm.
“What is it you want?” he rasps fully lucid.
“An honest treaty and not annihilation, we are not your enemy” you breathe honestly. His eyes darken in frustration before his jas sets in anger. He pulls out of you and the loss of contact causes you to gasp. He sits at the edge of the bed in contemplation.
“I will keep my word” he hisses feeling outmanoeuvred
“Come back to bed.” you respond. Feyd casts a hateful look over his shoulder making you smile. Your lack of fear amuses him. He returns back to bed giving you round two and whe it's over sleep comes too soon.
TREATIES…
Your father glares at you in fury. Undoubtedly his attendants have told him about your tryst last night. It’ll be every bit of a scandal by the end of the week if it makes it out of the palace. Suitors have come far and wide just for you to voluntarily take a Harkonnen to bed. As punishment you’re forbidden from attending the procession. There is no goodbye as you watch the fortified shielded ships take flight. Your father is an old man that’s comfortable in his ways and unaware of the complexity of the new world around him. It’s how your mother wormed her way into his heart. It’s how you came to be. You hear doors open and your eldest brother emerges behind you with none of your father’s judgement or contempt.
“He left you these,” your brother says, placing the gloves on the counter in front of you. You look down at them before looking at your brother. “We’re allies now” he declares. “The Harkonnen have stopped looking at us like food.” he finishes.
“Good” you respond.
“Well done sister” he nods leaving the room. You sigh deeply knowing Feyd is now deep in a web. Staring at the contraceptive tea your brother has placed beside the gloves you contemplate the future. “Now, it’s time to keep them busy” your brother says leaving your quarters.
SUCCESSION …
War had left Feyd preoccupied for the past few years and it was your fathers doing that none of his correspondence attempts made their way to you. Your brother had been a step ahead of every visit in an attempt to keep Feyd at bay, your father compliant and your reputation intact. Feyd had sent spies but they’d been unsuccessful in finding anything of consequence. You remained unwed training new recruits in a remote part of the country. There were modified designs of his gloves being used in combat and using your forces at his side had easily become one of his better decisions. It was why he was here now after all this time. Your father had passed on and his ally to become the planet's ruler. But, it was no secret he’d come all this way to see you. Still after so much time and many women there was always one who he could not shake. The cut on his forearm he refused to treat etched you into his skin and cellular memory. It was beyond time for him to take a wife and he was set on you, in spite of his advisors' cautions. Taking the path to the ceremony he finds the inhabitants clad in black. Mournful cries from a few mothers follow and he spies all of his sons. He’s seated among the esteemed guests and he finds you expressionless seated with the women. The wind blows your veil as you disassociate, Feyd becomes reckless. 
Shifting in his seat the procession takes too long. The singing is horrible as is the burial. Every attempt to get close to you fails. One of his spies passes him coordinates to your place and after the feast you are noticeably absent from Feyd finds you removing your headdress.
“Why haven't you returned my messages?” Feyd asks and you turn to face him. He’s unchanged. His spectacular features have been frozen in time. 
“My father was not a fan of our time together” you respond honestly. “I never received any messages” you tell him honestly.
“Shouldn't have stopped you from reaching out?”
“To Feyd-Rautha, who can have any woman he wants? To think our time together was of any significance to you?” you ask amused. “Na-Baron, Baron, usurper, co-emperor” you list his accolades. He sticks you with a truth poison and you smile. Removing the stinging vile. His lips find yours in a fevered kiss.
“Did you get my messages” he growls looking up at him your answer is unchanged. Not for the ineffective poisons.
“No,” you whisper and Feyd picks you up heading to the bed. He's rough and you moan getting lost in the kiss. Only for it to stop abruptly. Feyd’s body stiffens and he rolls off the bed falling onto the floor with terrified eyes. Alarmed you sit up to find your son manning the choking shield and disengaged it in a flash.
“No mommy, he was hurting you and he’s a stranger” your son snaps in a combative stance. But when Feyd stands the boy looks up in shock knowing the legendary Feyd-Rautha. The anger of his attack leaves him as he eyes the small child. Once ferocious he sees fear creeping into the kids' eyes. Eyes he knows too well from seeing them in his reflection. Swallowing, he squats down to the boy's eye level.
“What do they call you?” he rasps.
“Valyr” he says with a strong chest full of pride. Nodding he takes in the boys features his obvious strength, natural suspicion and strength. He counts back the years as he stands upright. The world would call him Valyr but Feyd would call the boy son and you wife. The planet would be fortified for your protection and a bastard daughter would be the planet's sustenance and salvation.
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Authors Note: How did you like this all in one style story? It was fun to write. I hope yo do more of these especially considering how many of you miss Feyd. I don't want to keep the Feyd Brigade waiting too long! What was your favourite rite part? Don't forget to like, comment & reblog for more 🖤🩶
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the-case-book-of-fanfiction · 3 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!
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☟ 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."
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[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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citruslullabies · 9 months ago
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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
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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.
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Thank you for requesting!
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professional-termite · 10 months ago
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imagine if the star trek tos gang had tumblr lol
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🔄 vulcanfuckerjt reblogged 1stofficerspock
😍 vulcanfuckerjt Follow
mannnn why are vulcans so.... ahfhfjfj lik????
🖖 1stofficerspock Follow
Hello captain.
😍 vulcanfuckerjt
sPOCKWHEN DJD YOU GET TUMBLR
🖖 1stofficerspock
Dr. McCoy reccommended this app to me this morning.
😍 vulcanfuckerjt
okkkk i think me and dr mccoy need to have a TALK
#in the meantime i need to purge this blog eughhhh
12 notes
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🔄 cptnjtkirk reblogged 1stofficerspock
🎶 music-by-nyota Follow
rb for reach!!
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 scottishthings-daily Follow
FLOWER OF SCOTLAND SWEEP!! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿
🇷🇺 russianthings-daily Follow
RUSSIAN ANTHEM SWEEEP!!! 🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺🇷🇺
🟥 redshirt-ensign Follow
who tf submitted a mitski song
🦴 bonesbonesbones Follow
i did. it reminded me of how @'cptnjtkirk feels about @'1stofficerspock :]
🖖 1stofficerspock Follow
What?
🌠 cptnjtkirk Follow
IGNOREE HIM PLEEASE
#bones istg
1.2k notes
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🔄 scottishthings-daily reblogged russianthings-daily
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 scottishthings-daily Follow
if the enterprise was a woman id want her to sit on my face
🇷🇺 russianthings-daily Follow
🤨
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 scottishthings-daily
wRONG BLOG
26.7k notes
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🔄 redshirt-ensign reblogged redshirt-ensign
🟥 redshirt-ensign Follow
abt to go on my first mission, wish me luck!!
🟥 redshirt-ensign
med bay
56.8k notes
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🔄 cptnjtkirk reblogged klingon-commander
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this is a callout post for @'cptnjtkirk hes a vulcan fucker and a war criminal
🦴 bonesbonesbones Follow
you say that like theyre equally bad..?
🤬 klingon-commander
they are.
🌠 cptnjtkirk Follow
too bad im not actually either of those things lmao
#i wish... #not about the war criminak thing obv i mean #wait dammit spock can see this blog nvm
10 notes
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🔄 klingon-soldier-6 reblogged scottishthings-daily
🇷🇺 russianthings-daily Follow
Posting Russian things every day, day 567: Nevsky potatoes!
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😡 klingon-soldier-6 Follow
they look stupid
🇷🇺 russianthings-daily
i have your family name and home coordinates. you have 3 days to delete that post.
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 scottishthings-daily Follow
ay, laddy...@'cptnjtkirk said to quit yer fighting!
😡 klingon-soldier-6
stfu ur in love with an ugly ass spaceship
#istg you starfleet ppl are like asking to get bullied or smthn #not my fault ur easy targets
756 notes
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🔺️ engineerthrowaway74859 Follow
@'klingon-soldier-6 's full dox
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130 notes
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🔄 cptnjtkirk reblogged romulan-invasion
🗡 thereal-mrsulu Follow
@'cptnjtkirk Sir, there's an asteroid coming towards the ship at an alarming speed! 3 hours until impact!
🌠 cptnjtkirk Follow
cant we just move out of the way.? or blow it up
🗡 thereal-mrsulu
I can't, sir! Our controls are all jammed!
🪆 russianthings-nav Follow
can confirm, @'cptnjtkirk sir!! nothings working!!
🌠 cptnjtkirk
how?? how could this have happened???
😈 romulan-invasion Follow
:3
🌠 cptnjtkirk
shit
4.3k notes
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🦴 bonesbonesbones Follow
"ooo mccoy what do i do" "oooh mccoy im in love with my first officer" "ooh mccoy--" boi stfu im a surgeon not a matchmaker
#go talk to someone else if you want help with that bucko #bones rambles
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🌠 cptnjtkirk Follow
i wish people would stop vagueposting about me :( at least @ me if ur gonna say something rude
#personal
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🔄 cptnjtkirk reblogged bonesbonesbones
🦴 bonesbonesbones Follow
@'cptnjtkirk is a massive simp
#not what i meant but thanks i guess
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candycandy00 · 6 months ago
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The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)
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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!
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“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. 
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raguiras · 3 months ago
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SKETCH COMIC: Deuce/Yuu at the beach
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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 ^^
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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!
More ship content
Previous parts of my Deuce x Allen ship introduction: 1 // 2 // 3
Deuce x Allen blog: @spade-of-storms
Event where you can draw this ship & get art of your own ship back :3
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Relationship timeline (pt. 3)
♠︎♤ POST BOOK 7 ♤♠︎
By now, pretty much everyone at NRC knew that Deuce and Allen had a thing for each other, and many people even assumed that they were a couple already.
Nobody could blame them, though: the two boys were not only inseparable and constantly smiling at each other, but also extremely touchy nowadays. Having built unparalleled levels of trust and being incredibly comfortable with each other, Allen and Deuce did more and more together, eventually even cuddling in public on the regular.
One day when Deuce had done incredibly well on a test, Allen gave him a cheek kiss out of sheer euphoria. This absolutely made Deuce bluescreen and he later rambled to Ace about it — it was his first ever kiss!!! Did Allen like him back?! Did this kiss mean anything?! Would it be okay for him to give Allen a kiss as well?!
When they were watching a movie together in Allen's room, Deuce decided to spontaneously kiss Allen's cheek, too. The blonde boy got incredibly nervous as he had not expected this in the slightest — after all, he was "disgusting and unlovable" — and simply laughed it off.
Another time, Deuce was comforting Allen during one of his low moments. As Allen went on about how much he hated his body, Deuce was basically rendered speechless and could reply with nothing but sincere compliments on Allen's appearance. This warmed the Ramshackle prefect's heart a ridiculous amount... did Deuce really mean it? Was Allen actually beautiful to him...? Why was Deuce not growing sick of complimenting him and instead always sounded genuine...? After a quick gaze was exchanged, Allen suddenly found every area of his face other than his lips being covered in gentle, soft kisses. "I'm here for you. You're so beautiful."
These happenings caused them to occasionally kiss the other in various places (except for the lips) — yes, including their necks — which shocked everybody due to the physical distance both held with other people. However, it was still strictly "platonic" as neither Allen nor Deuce dared to say a thing. Everyone around them was losing their minds in the meantime — how could they act this lovey-dovey with the constant cuddles, gazes and kisses and STILL not be a couple?!
Deuce was convinced that he was way too average for someone like Allen. Despite the Ramshackle prefect's many flaws, he was the embodiment of perfection in Deuce's eyes. Allen would definitely want someone prettier and smarter, right...? Deuce surely couldn't compare...
Allen, on the other hand, still firmly believed that he was not only ugly, but unlovable, undeserving, and easy to replace. In his opinion, he had to be absolutely perfect in every way to be a worthwhile partner, and his crushing fear of rejection held him back anyway.
Both boys were terrified of destroying their friendship through a love confession. While they strictly avoided the topic of the rumors and of them potentially getting together in each other's presence, both Allen and Deuce secretly rambled to their friends and were desperately searching for advice. No matter how often everyone told them that the other one definitely liked them back, neither of the two teenagers could/wanted to believe it.
Sometimes, Deuce and Allen even talked about their crushes together, describing them to each other's face in hopes of them realizing that the other one was their crush. However, this backfired A TON: neither could believe that the described positive traits applied to THEM, and instead, Allen firmly believed that Deuce was crushing on someone else (and vice versa).
Ace couldn't stand it anymore and forced Deuce to gift Allen a red rose to test the waters. While the Ramshackle prefect did want to believe that the gesture was of romantic nature, Allen instead decided that it was a platonic souvenir from Heartslabyul's gardens — after all, Deuce had described his crush as "beautiful, kind and the most perfect person he had ever seen", which SURELY couldn't have been Allen...
Deuce didn't know what other hints to drop (outside of the fact that he regularly gave Allen gifts, complimented him a ton, got touchy with him despite hating it with other people, was eager to hang out with him all day, and literally KISSED him). Allen simply appeared to be oblivious to absolutely everything.
One day when they were cuddling on Allen's bed while watching a movie, Deuce yet again planted little kisses on Allen's neck and spontaneously decided to be bold, asking Allen if they could finally kiss on the lips. The Ramshackle student blushed and was taken by surprise, but obviously agreed. Their first kiss was innocent, loving and downright PERFECT — both felt as if they were about to explode — until Allen brushed it off as "practice" with a sad chuckle. Deuce's heart was broken within a second.
Allen was so heavily traumatized and convinced that he was unlovable that he genuinely thought Deuce wanted to use him as practice for his future relationship with the aforementioned "perfect, kind and beautiful" crush. Deuce thought the same about Allen — so this wonderful kiss was only practice for the blonde boy's upcoming relationship with his crush, huh...?
Both yet again talked to their friends in search of help, but all they got was further reassurance that the other one DID like them and that there was simply a massive misunderstanding.
At some point, Deuce couldn't wait anymore. He loved Allen more than anything and he NEEDED him, but Deuce knew full well that he'd likely get too nervous and stumble over his own words if he confessed to Allen in person. Instead, he decided to gift the boy another Shiba plushie, place it in front of Allen's door, and attached a letter to it.
Unfortunately, this also backfired. Allen was convinced that the letter was a prank; he was convinced that someone was impersonating Deuce and recreating his handwriting with magic in order to give Allen wrong hopes and possibly destroy the friendship he had with Deuce (however, Allen did keep the letter and plush Shiba). When Deuce heard about this, he was even more saddened — what did he have to do for Allen to realize that he was not only worthy of love, but actively loved by Deuce? What did he have to do for Allen to realize... that Deuce wanted him more than anything else in life? There was only one way left...
Deuce planned the confession in detail and even practiced in front of his mirror. He bought twelve red roses, two matching gumball machine rings, and another plushie. Additionally, Deuce also wrote a second love letter.
He then invited Allen to a blastcycle tour, which the Ramshackle student obviously agreed to. When it was time for them to go, Deuce showed up at Allen's window and blasted "Baby" by Justin Bieber at full volume, and once inside Allen's room, Deuce gifted him the bouquet. But this time, Allen couldn't just mentally brush it off as a platonic gesture — he saw the desperation, sincerity and love in Deuce's eyes, and took the flowers with a bright blush while nervously thanking Deuce.
The two teenagers went off to the beach, with Allen holding onto Deuce tightly as they rode the blastcycle.
When they arrived at the beach, Deuce's heart was pretty much beating out of his chest. After a short walk, the blue-haired boy gathered all his courage, breathed in deeply one last time, took the gifts out of his bag, and went on one knee in front of Allen.
Allen's heart was beating out of his chest as well. He couldn't deny it any longer, his insecurities couldn't deny it any longer — this was indeed a confession.
Allen opened the letter and teared up immediately upon reading Deuce's sweet words. It was another sincere love confession, this time handed to him directly by Deuce. There was no excuse and it couldn't be mistaken for a prank. The Heartslabyul student kneeled in front of Allen, looking up to him with the most desperate, nervous puppy eyes — Deuce wanted nothing more than to date him.
Allen couldn't believe it yet and started crying. Deuce actually loved him... Deuce genuinely wanted to be with him. All his life, Allen had been told that something like this was impossible... but here he was now, being confessed to in the sweetest way by the sweetest person he had ever met. He was loved.
Deuce slowly got up to comfort Allen, but instead, the Ramshackle prefect initiated a kiss. This time, it wasn't "practice" — it was their first genuine kiss as a couple, and it became one of their most treasured memories for both of them.
They were officially together now... and little did Allen know that they'd stay lovers for the entirety of their lifes.
"I love you." — "I love you, too."
Deuce and Allen had fixed the mistakes of the past; Allen's previous incarnation had died before Deuce's got the chance to confess. And in their next lifes, they'd be together as well.
They were destined to find each other in every universe.
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Fun fact: There are 3 Spade of Storms days.
22th March: The day when I first decided that I want them to be together in an old rp server. It was likely the first official confirmation of the ship, and it was 150 days ago.
20th May: The day when they got together in the canon lore.
27th July: The day that's exactly in between of their birthdays (3rd June & 20th September).
Thank you very much for reading! 🥹🥹
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