#wip. over land and sea

[kaidabakugou]

PAIRING: MERMAN! KATSUKI BAKUGOU X F! READER

WARNINGS: reader is a bit elizabeth swan-esque, monsterfucking, oral sex, hint of temperature play, tongue fucking, spit, blood kink, overstimulation, squirt, cum eating, nipple play, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, throat fucking w/ tongue, brief descriptions of drowning, hint of guided masterbation, fingering, knotting, breeding, marking, size kink, claiming, biting

WORD COUNT: 10.2K

A/N: this is my submission for See No Evil, Speak No Evil Collab by @vampyrsm, this fic has been in my wips for months so i’m super happy to finally be able to share it with you guys after so long and just in time before the end of mermay. hope you enjoy it and tysm for reading! ♡

Escaping the royal navy’s ship on a rowboat and wandering aimlessly through sea until you could find land, was not the ideal evening you had planned. Wanting nothing more than to be within the comfort of your chambers, enjoying a good book while snug under some warm blankets. But as the first and only daughter of the governor, your life always revolved around expectations as a demure lady. Envisioned to marry a respectable man, equally well-born or superior to your rank to forge strategic political alliances and social connections for your father. 

Which is how you found yourself en route to the Royal City to marry a commodore who was a respected royal navy officer. You had no interest in being wed for politics, you much preferred to marry out of love, but your father was insistent that you accepted the commodore’s proposal. That was until the ship was ambushed and raided by pirates, the commotion working in your favor as you took the opportunity to slither away unnoticed. 

Your clothes were wet from jumping into the water in a hurry, out of fear of being spotted, and they felt uncomfortably tight against your skin. Already starting to feel tired from rowing, but pushing through the ache in your muscles, not wanting to risk someone catching up to you. Beginning to lose hope of finding anything that could help you in this darkness, with just the light from the moon illuminating your path, only to sail over waters that seem to shine when you pass through them, bioluminescent waters that glow blue when agitated.

Stories of deadly creatures living in these waters were commonly told by sailors after they returned from long journeys across the deep sea, but no one ever truly believed that such things could exist. 

You stop rowing to lean over the edge and touch the water. The fish and small crabs swimming around you make the water shine, brightening enough to allow you to see better around you. Taking this as an opportunity to remove your wet clothes, as you lay them down behind you to dry and recline over the side of the boat, resting your head on your forearm while you dip your hand into the water, the glow emitting from your movements illuminating your features. You wouldn’t be able to spot any land in this darkness so staying afloat where you at least have some light is your best option. Exhaustion catching up to you as you feel yourself drifting to sleep, before you felt the waves shift under you, making the boat sway a little harder.

You whipped your head quickly from side to side but didn’t notice anything unusual. Staying on the lookout for a few moments before settling back down to your previous spot, maybe you were just imagining things. But it wasn’t long before you felt the same jerk of the boat, a splash resonating right afterwards making you sit up again and peek over the other side. There was a large patch of blue sparkles in the water, a long trail leading towards your boat and disappearing just under it, indicating something big had just passed through. Nerves started to creep up your spine, you had nothing to defend yourself with if a large fish decided to attack and you couldn’t use your paddles, you needed those to row into land and not risk being stuck at sea. 

Trying your best to stay still, you waited to see if whatever it was that altered the water would appear again. Wrapping your arms around yourself as your eyes darted all around. You were naked and defenseless, thankful that at least the water was still warm, expelling the heat it absorbed from the intense sun during the day. 

Your eyes drifted over to your side again, distracted by the small fish jumping up and down the water to catch some small prey flying above it, causing the water to glow more and more with each jump. But you failed to notice the large figure stalking towards you from a few feet away, only becoming aware once it reached the front of the boat when you felt it rock gently under you, as if it was being held by something.

You were frozen on your spot, whatever is in these waters with you is hidden behind the bow of the boat. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you force your body to slowly approach the front edge, hands gripping the wood as you peek over the ledge. 

A spark of color is the first thing that catches your eyes, pastel orange scales that turn iridescent under the moonlight coating a long luminous tail. Black fins at the end and protruding from its sides that sparkled a deep shade of green when they caught the light each time they rose from the water. Its center is composed of highly developed and toned muscles similar to that of a human’s physique that made your breath hitch in your throat. Trailing your eyes up to its face, you're met with intense vermilion irises staring back at you. It had the features of a human male except for the patches of scales on his skin that matched the ones on his tail. His wet blonde hair glossy under the moonshine as it draped over his forehead. Small gills adorned the side of his neck while spiky fins expelled from behind his ears, the orange on them a little darker than the one on his tail.

Distracted with the appearance of the creature before you, shocked with what you were seeing, you were startled when he slowly rose from the water to come face to face with you. Curious eyes trailing over your features as his head tilts to the side, wandering down your figure and stopping on your legs, focusing on them for a few moments before his eyes shoot back up to your face. 

Placing his hands on the edge of the boat near yours, you let your eyes drop to them. Scales covered the skin on the back of his hands and trailed up his forearms, disappearing just before his elbows. Strange webbing stretched between his fingers that looked almost transparent. And claws, long and sharp enough to rip through flesh. When you tear your eyes away from his hands, lifting your head up to look back at him, a small gasp leaves your lips as you notice how much closer he is to your face. He was beautiful, smooth soft tanned skin that glimmered under the moonlight, his fins twitching with every rise and fall from your chest, complementing his chiseled jawline. Rosy plump lips that make you lick yours subconsciously, the action not going unnoticed by him as he stares down at your lips, shiny and slick.

Mimicking your actions, his tongue darts out of his mouth to lick his lips, the wet muscle long and pale. Allowing you to catch a glimpse of his sharp teeth, the sight making your chest rise harder as you take in a deep breath, his fins twitching at the sound again. You capture his eyes again, deep pools of red throwing you in a haze as you get lost in the intensity from them, only the loud sound of his wide tail splashing against the water pulling you from your hypnosis as you take a quick peek at the long limb, finding the iridescent scales dancing under the moonshine with every movement of his tail captivating. 

The stories you've read about the man-eating monsters that supposedly lived in these waters never mentioned that such mesmerizing creatures could also be roaming in them. They told tales of hideous things that would stalk and toy with their prey, rumored to have magical powers that allowed them to control the weather to sink ships into the depths of the ocean and eat their unfortunate passengers. But you found it hard to believe that the beauty before you could spawn such chaos. A beauty so alluring that you had to retain from reaching out to touch him, feeling your hands twitch with the desire to do so, but your mind still held a hint of fear towards the mysterious soul.

Too caught in your own head, you jolted when the creature hoisted himself up into the front of the boat, his tail hanging off of the ledge, still splashing it in the water creating more and more blue sparkles around you. Making you crawl backwards into your original spot at the center of the boat, your chest heaving as fear started to sink into your skin once again, unsure of what the creature's intentions were. 

Your legs were sprawled open in front of him, when you noticed his eyes trailing down your body and settling on your exposed sex. He licked his lips again, this time at the sight of you presenting yourself to him. The action makes you jump as you quickly close your legs and bring them near to your chest, realizing your mistake. A dissatisfied grunt resonating from deep in his chest at your reaction as he gets closer to you, webbed hands reaching for your leg as he drags his fingers softly across your skin. Stroking up and down your calf before firmly wrapping around your ankle, repeating the action on your other leg before prying them open for him. 

Suddenly pulling you towards him so your cunt is right in front of his face, the abruptness making you yelp as you stare deep into his eyes, his tail swinging behind him while he stares back at you. Caressing your legs again before he rips his eyes away from yours and settles them down on your cunt. Darting his long tongue out to take a scrutinizing lick through your folds. A soft gasp leaving you both as your eyes meet again, the fins on the side of his face twitching rapidly at the taste of you before his tongue starts licking your cunt more eagerly. Soft mewls burst from your chest, the feeling of his wet, icy cold tongue darting feverishly through your folds foreign to you as it sends shivers across your body.

You've never been intimate with anyone, being taught that you needed to save your purity for marriage. The only intimacy you've experienced is the rare times you would allow yourself to succumb to your sinful thoughts and bury your digits deep inside your own warmth, letting your fantasies drift you into bliss within the privacy of your chambers late at night. You had always expected that your first time would've been one of law and order with a man fitting for your standings and one pleasing for your father. One to be witnessed by a priest to ensure your communion was pure and true at the night of your wedding. But all those thoughts were now drifting away by the currents of the sea and replaced by the creature between your legs. 

His tongue was driving you insane, thick globs of saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your already sloppy pussy. Grunts and mewls vibrating in his throat as he flicks it up and down your parted folds, webbed hands wrapping around your plump thighs as his claws dig lightly into your smooth skin, not hard enough to break through it but firm enough to leave red lines and pointed indents in their wake. 

He circled his tongue on your entrance before pushing the tip into your slick pussy. The intrusion rips a moan from you while your walls clench around the wet muscle. His eyes dart towards your face as he slows down his movements, slowly bullying his way against your pulsing walls as he stares at you, scraping his nails on your skin to soothe your nerves while he curls his tongue back and forth until it's fully settled inside you. Making you feel so full that you almost couldn't breathe, your mind clouded with pleasure as you allow this man… this creature to have its way with you.

He stays buried in you, blown out eyes looking back at your glossy ones before he begins to pump his tongue in and out of you. Starting slow and gradually increasing his speed as he brings his open mouth down to latch around your cunt and suck on your folds. Your moans echoing throughout the quiet sea for the waves to swallow as you feel a pressure build deep inside your lower abdomen, pressure similar to the one you've felt with yourself but far more intense than you could have imagined. 

Your body was shaking and a thin layer of sweat was coating your skin as heat courses through your body. Your orgasm hitting you so hard that you barely had time to register what was happening as your vision got blurry. Legs twitching as the creature between them continued his assault on your cunt, tongue lapping up your release while he continued pumping it against your silken walls. Sharp nails digging a little harder against your skin when he grips your thighs to prevent you from closing them around him, feeling the skin tear under them as blood begins to trail down along the webs of his digits whilst he continues sucking on your folds. 

Your moans turning hoarse from the overstimulation, as you feel the pressure build up again but this one was slightly different from the last. You felt… funny in a way, you couldn't really describe it since you've never felt this way before. Darting your hand towards his webbed one as you wrapped it around his, his fingers opening up for you to hold onto as your blood now transferred to your palms as well.

“Wait, I-I feel…I feel-…” you could barely finish your sentence when you felt the knot inside you burst, a stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt and pouring down his throat as he greedily drank up your fluids, splashing from the sides of his mouth making his wet skin glisten under the moonlight. 

Your breathing was erratic, goosebumps erupting from your skin as chills ran across your body, your skin glowing with sweat and your nipples were pebbled. He slowly pulled his tongue from your warm walls, running it through the length of your pussy before licking his lips, cleaning your release from his face as he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. Slowly opening them again, finding yours already staring back at him with pure bliss adorning your face while soft pants left your lips, a small cloud of air forming with every exhale as it drifts into the wind. 

You watched as he lowered himself down to your cunt again and nuzzled his nose against your clit, taking a deep inhale to breathe in your sinful smell. Closing his eyes again as if to memorize your scent before giving it a quick lick and slowly crawling his way up towards you. Nose running up the skin on your abdomen, gently breathing you in again before lapping up the thin layer of sweat from your skin. Dragging his tongue all the way up through the valley of your breast and leaning back to stare at your chest.

Erect nipples catching his attention as he brings his clawed fingers down to flick on one of them. Causing you to capture your lower lip between your teeth as you continue to watch his every move, his eyes shifting from one nipple to the other before pinching a peak between his digits. Coaxing a moan to erupt from your throat when he pulls and twists the sensitive bud, his eyes shifting towards your face momentarily before repeating the action on your neglected nipple, your back arching against his touch while more moans rip from you. You've played with your nipples before when you pleasured yourself, but the feeling of someone else touching you in such erotic ways was making your clit pulse again and your thighs to clench. 

Your eyes were glossy again from all the attention you were receiving, your mind completely clouded with lust as this creature continued pleasing you, his curious hands roaming every part of your body as he continued exploring every inch of you. Lowering his tongue down onto your nipples as he flicked it against the swollen bud, webbed hand grabbing your breast, pulling it towards his mouth as he wraps his lips around it. Sucking hard on your skin while he slowly moved his head back and forth before releasing your tit with a wet pop, threads of spit connecting his drooling mouth with your soaked breast while lustful eyes stared back into yours.

Giving your nipple a quick final lick before switching towards the other. Already swollen and a little bruised from his fingers as he darted his tongue out to lick up and down right on the center of it at a tantalizing pace while he stares up at you. The tears clouding your vision spilling down your temples as his hot tongue lapped at your chest, the contrast in temperature from his initially freezing tongue feels so good against your skin, making your pussy clench around nothing as you feel yourself getting closer to another orgasm just from the stimulation on your chest. 

Unable to resist the pulsing on your clit as you bring your fingers down onto the nub and start rubbing fast circles on it. The action not going unnoticed by the scaled man as he wraps his lips around your nipple, continuing to flick his tongue faster inside of his mouth as you arch your back, pushing further into him. The knot in your stomach bursting as soon as it builds, throwing your head back as breathy moans escape your lips while your arousal drips into the wooden floor of the small boat. You run your fingers through your messy pussy to collect your fluids, bringing your digits up to your mouth as you suck on your fingers, tasting yourself while you stare down at the creature still sucking on your nipple. Dipping your fingers back down to collect more before lifting them up to your lips again, the fins on his head flicking rapidly all of a sudden as he removes his tongue from your breast, a wet slurp echoing in the wind as he brings his face closer to yours.

His eyes staring at your fingers stuffed inside your mouth as a webbed hand wraps around yours to pull your fingers out of your mouth and into his. Eagerly sucking the mixture of cum and spit from your digits, a whine vibrating from his throat followed by a soft purring, similar to that of a cat as his eyes open and close softly, his brows rising in the center as another whine rips from his throat, muffled by your fingers in his warm mouth.

Pulling your fingers out of his mouth, he leads your hand back down onto your cunt, collecting your release again before presenting your hand towards your lips once more. Quickly parting them as you run your tongue against the underside of your digits, licking from where your fingers meet your palm all the way up towards the tips and repeating the action. His eyes never leave yours as he brings his face closer to you, his tongue meeting yours when he licks the top of your fingers, mirroring your actions as he licks from your knuckles and up towards the tips. His tongue rubbing against yours in between your digits as your hot breaths mix with each other and drift into the cold air. 

The feeling of cold claws barely digging into the back of your neck is the only warning you get before he pulls you towards him, pressing his lips against yours. His tongue dragging across your bottom lip before he pushes it past them and down your throat, lips stretching wider and wider as he thrusts the large wet muscle in and out of your throat. Thick webs of saliva spilling from the sides of your mouth as it dribbles down on your chest. The feeling of having your mouth so full making your eyes roll as fresh tears gloss over them while the sinful squelch resonating from deep inside your throat causes the muscles in your thighs to tense, wanting to rub your thighs together to relieve the ache building on your clit again, but unable to do so from the creature hovering his waist between your legs.

The lack of air is intoxicating, feeling the pressure build in your head as your  hands reach up to hold onto his muscular shoulder while your nails dig into the scaled skin, leaving crescent moons in their wake. A muzzled high pitched whine vibrating from your chest, begging him to give you a moment to breathe, to which he complies as he starts to retract his tongue from you. Frantically breathing air back into your lungs while he leans down to lick the drool on your chest, not giving you much time to recuperate as he lifts his head back up, nails digging into your nape again as he pulls you closer. 

“Wait!..”, you scream while pressing a hand on his chest, big red eyes staring expectantly back into yours as his fins flickers back and forth rapidly, noticing how his gills open and close softly on the side of his neck. 

“I need a minute Mr…”, you said in a breathy sigh as you trail off, unsure of what to call the creature staring back at you. 

“Bakugou.” Your eyes widened, your breath stuck in your chest again and your parted lips stilling, unsure if you heard correctly or if your ears were deceiving you.

An almost inaudible ‘what?’ leaving your lips as you stare at him, confusion written all over your features. 

“Bakugou”, he repeats. This time you hear it clearly, his raspy voice sinking deep into your ears as your eyes flutter. 

“You-you can speak?”, he responds with a nod as you feel his claws draw ovals on your nape, tangling with your damped hairs as you both continue to stare at each other, taking this opportunity to catch your breath while you try to calm your thoughts that are going wild with this new revelation. 

All the tales you've been told before about the creatures that lived in waters like these never mentioned anything about them being able to speak the common tongue, curiosity overtaking the better of you, wanting to know more about him and what his intentions with you really were. 

“What um- what are you?”, you ask after taking one last big breath to settle down, noticing how his eyes continued to shift down to your exposed chest with each inhale before meeting yours again.

“A merman”, he answers back briefly as he starts to untangle his claws from your nape and run them softly down the side of your neck to hook them under the thin chain of your necklace before settling on the small pendant in the center. Looking down to where his clawed fingers are holding the golden coin remembering when you first received it many years ago, back when you didn't have so many obligations and was still allowed to explore the town without limitations. 

You would visit the docks when fishermen would return from big expeditions and watch as they unloaded their ships with all kinds of things they found in their journeys, remembering how you would sneak into Mr. Aizawa’s ship to get a first look of the different animals he would import back from other lands to expand his market, until he found you one day whilst you were distracted looking at the remains of what looked like a shark, although you've never seen one before that time, you had read about them.

“You lost, little one?”, Aizawa startles you as he circles around you to cover the carcass with an old cotton sheet.

“My apologies sir, I- I just wanted to see the animals, please don’t tell my father”, you begged him as you fisted your dress with your head down.

He stared down at you for a moment before patting your head, messing up the pristine hairstyle your mother had done for you that morning, after all you were the daughter of his highest paying customer, so it was in his best interest to avoid any conflict.

“Relax…”, he breathes out whilst crouching down to your level, “... I won't tell if you don't”, he whispers while shooting you a wink, making you smile back at him as you offer him a nod in agreement. Your eyes drift behind him as they fixate back to where you were staring at the carcass, asking Mr. Aizawa what it was as your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“You don't want to know'', he says as he stands up straight, extending his hand towards the other cages below deck to shift your interests elsewhere. 

“Is it a shark?”, you ask while walking along with him, looking over your shoulder towards where its tail is still peeking out from under the cover, long purple-ish scales catching your attention before Mr. Aizawa’s hand obstructs your vision.

“Something like that”, is all he says before he encourages you forward towards the small cage with small round furry animals he calls rabbits, successfully shifting your curiosity elsewhere as you crouch down to pet the small creatures.

Later walking you out onto the docks to send you off back home safely, the sun shining against the rows of different golden chains and beaded jewelry around his neck catching your eye as he notices you staring at them. 

“You like ‘em”, he asks while crouching down to your level again. 

You nod at him while pointing at one with a skull on it and foreign figures around it, “what does this one mean?”

He looks down at the one you're pointing at before reaching up to untangle it from the others as he presents it to you, “this one is a gold medallion”.

“What is it used for?”, you asked while tracing your fingers along the designs, feeling the shape of each indentation before tracing the skull at the center. 

“Mm not sure, found it on one of my expeditions south of the Caribbean Sea… you like it?”, he asks as you meet his dark eyes, shifting your gaze towards his black strands of hair trapped inside beads of different colors and sizes matching the ones around his neck and wrists, looking down at the medallion again before nodding as you glance back up at him.

“Here…”, he breathes out while reaching up to place it over your head and secure it around your neck, “... you take care of it for me, yeah?”

“Really?!”, you ask excitedly as you run your fingers along the skull again.

“Mhm, but be careful with it, okay?, golden medallions are made of ancient aztec gold that is quite important and are very seeked out by pirates”, he warns while pointing a black nailed finger at you to which you quickly glance at before eagerly nodding again. 

“Very well, now go on before your father comes looking for you”, he says as he waves you off, quickly thanking him before saying your goodbyes as you hurriedly make your way back to the manor whilst hiding the necklace under the ruffles of the neckline of your dress. 

Aizawa watches you from a distance as he takes in a deep inhale, relieved he got rid of that little problem for the time being until destiny decides to unite you both again.

Those were simpler times you supposed, although never in a million years would you have thought to find yourself in the situation you were in right now, with a merman laying across your stowaway boat, his tail so long that is hanging off of the edge with some decent amount of length still hidden under the bioluminescent waves whilst he traced his clawed digits along your medallion, his other webbed hand caressing your sides as his eyes roamed along your body, feasting on your exposed skin. 

Feeling his mouth begin to salivate at the sight of your pert nipples as he begins to lower himself to your chest before he feels your sides tremble under his grasp making him stop as he looks up at you, noticing how your jaw is now shut tight. Tilting his head from side to side as he studies you whilst you stare back at him, your hand lightly touching the scales on his shoulder feeling their texture change depending on the direction you caress them. His fins flicked occasionally, but not as rapidly as before as if he was waiting for something. 

Another shiver ran down your sides making him tighten his grip on your hip, but his eyes never deviated from your face. You weren't sure of what he was waiting on, but you simply thought that maybe he was allowing you to catch the breath you asked for as you continued to run your fingers against his scales since he didn't show any signs of discomfort towards your touch.

He watches you as you turn your head to the side when the splashing sound of another fish capturing its prey gets your attention, his eyes darting towards your chest when you take a deep breath when you turn towards him again, finally getting what he was waiting for when he hears the sound of your teeth gently tapping against each other as you exhale, his fins twitching at a fast pace as he gets closer to you whilst his claws drop the golden medallion to tangle with the hairs at your nape again, cradling your face in his webbed hand.

“You’re cold”, he worriedly states while studying your face as you stare at him shocked, his words catching you off guard before you can actually register them, only nodding back at him as you feel another chill run down your skin. Noticing the action as you feel him gently grip your side before trailing his hand towards your elbow and down your hand, holding it in his as he pauses to glance down at it, caressing the back of your hand gently with his clawed thumb as his head slowly tilts to the side, enthralled with the smoothness of your skin compared the rough scaled texture he’s used to seeing. His eyes meet yours again as his other hand untangles from your nape and trails down your arm, now holding both hands in his whilst his digits continue to caress the back of them. 

“Get in the water with me”, he says while slowly pulling you back with him. 

“I cant”, you repelled.

“Why not?”, he asks as you watch his lips slightly turn into a pout while his fins seem to lower before flipping back up slowly making you press your lips together to hold back a smile, reminding you of a small puppy.

“I can't leave the boat and risk it drifting away”, you explain as he stares at you, hands still grasped together as you feel his thumbs stop caressing the back of your hands, causing you to look down at them briefly before meeting his gaze again. Vermillion irises studying yours before glancing around the inside of the boat, noticing the ruffled fabric of your clothes peeking behind you and fixating on your legs again. Watching how they slightly clench with each shiver before trailing up your abdomen to settle on your chest, his mouth flooding again at the sight, already feeling his tongue ache and his lips twitch to be wrapped around your nipples again. 

He didn't understand why the boat was so important to you since to him you wouldn't have a need to use it again, not after you've presented yourself to him and in his territory nonetheless, but he thought that if he was going to prove to you that he was a worthy mate, then he needed to cherish the same things that were important to you. 

Giving your hands a final squeeze before backing away into the water, he submerged himself as you quickly leaned over the edge of the boat to see where he was going, confused at the sudden change. Only catching a glimpse of his tail disappearing under the boat before you feel it move, going at a much quicker speed than the one you had when paddling by yourself, making you clutch onto the edge.

The cold breeze felt painful against your skin, making you curl into yourself as you wonder where he could be taking you, only able to see the few feet ahead of you illuminated by the moon and the splashing against the boat that activates the blue hues of the water. Closing your eyes when the force of his swimming became too much for your eyes to bear. Only opening them when the harshness of the wind no longer nipped at your skin and your ears filled with what sounded like tides rocking against the shore. To which you were correct, as you neared a small island a few feet away that seemed to be deserted from the lack of illumination, where only the shadows of the large palm trees along the coast were visible against the dark mass of fauna behind them. 

Bakugou pushed you as close to the shore as he could without risking getting stuck in the sand before waiting for you as he watched while you pulled your boat into land and secured it before entering the water with him, blue hues forming with each of your steps. Webbed hands immediately reaching for you as they trailed down your sides and onto your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his scaled waist. Gently caressing your skin as he swims around the coast towards the large rocks in the distance while staring at you when your hands reach up to touch his fins. The delicate skin felt soft against your fingertips in contrast to the scales on his body, the faint sound of low purring returning the more you massaged them as the sound blended in with the soothing crash of the waves against the sand.

“Do you trust me?”, he asked when you reached where the rocks began to disappear below the water. 

After a brief pause, you nodded in response. Even though you were still uncertain if you could truly trust him, given the circumstances he hadn't shown any deceitful signs to make him unworthy of your trust. 

He smiled softly at your approval before running his claws up your shoulder and cradling the side of your face in his webbed hand. A wet thumb caressing your temple as he gently pulled you closer whilst leaning in to meet you halfway in a kiss. In contrast to his previous ones, searing and hungry, this one was completely different. Delicate but devout as if he was trying to achieve something with it, feeling a low vibration rush through your body the longer your lips intertwined with his before pulling away with a small whine, already missing the feel of his lips against yours. 

“Now you're ready.”

“Ready for wh-”, you were cut short by him suddenly diving into the water at a great speed while holding you tightly against him. Eyes widening in terror causing panic to surge through your body as you try your best to hold in your breath while squirming in search of a release to swim back up to the surface. But to no avail, Bakugou keeps taking you both deeper and deeper along the wall of rocks before entering a small cave hidden behind some algae. Beginning to feel lightheaded from the lack of oxygen as your body forces you to take in a gulp of air that causes you to panic further when you breathe in the salty water. But to your surprise the water feels like it disappears as soon as it enters your lungs and is replaced with air. The realization makes you stop your thrashing as the panic is now overtaken by confusion. Your mind ran wild with all sorts of questions until your eyes met Bakugou’s, a grin adorning his features as it became clear to you what was happening. The kiss must've been dosed with some of the power that his kind possessed and that's why it felt like your skin was vibrating when it happened.

As the nerves in your body began to die down, you took the opportunity to look around your surroundings, only to feel your breath get stuck in your throat again at the sight. The cave was blooming with life as all sorts of underwater life swan around you. Coral reefs scattered all around the area with a vibrancy of colors and a variety of formations that you couldn't begin to wrap your head around. Orange and yellow tubes standing out from between the algaes as the reef shifted to blue and violet corals that took a more circular shape as different plants danced around them. Fish of all sizes swam along the reef as they didn't seem to pay you much mind, too distracted with finding smaller prey hidden between the long algae. 

Bakugou smiled as he watched you take in your surroundings in awe, glad that the hard work that he had put into his home throughout the years for this exact moment that he'd get to bring his mate home had been worth it. Leading you towards a trail that seemed to be lit up by underwater crystals that shined a beautiful celeste color towards another cave entrance. Guiding you through the abundance of crystals and corals before reaching a clearing further in where the water pooled and you could breathe above the surface again. The cave felt oddly warm despite being hidden under the ocean and the crystals expanded all the way up to the ceiling, illuminating the entire area with long descending vines that possessed flowers that also shined bright, their reflection dancing against the water. The floor was decorated with soft moss and rare flowers you've never seen before that expelled a rich aroma you could smell even from far away.

Bakugou swam to the edge of the mossy floor before hoisting himself up onto the ledge with you in his arms. Sliding further into the clearing until his tail was completely out of the water as he settled down with his head against a pillowy sponge, shifting his body to lay you down next to him. Taking a moment to peer down at you while you sneaked a glance at his tale, now able to see it in all its glory as your eyes fixate on it. The iridescent pale orange turning a darker shade that matched the fins on the sides of his face now that it was out of the water and the humid air of the cave was flowing through his scales. Feeling his chest swell up with pride the more you observed his tail as he started to slowly flick it up and down for the light from the crystals to glide across to show you more of its beauty.

Only getting pulled away from your fixation when you felt cold claws hook along the underside of the chain of your necklace before picking on the medallion again. The golden coin catching the merman’s attention again as he drags his thumb against the foreign markings around the edge of it. 

“Where did you get this?”, he asked as he forced his eyes away from the dark eyes of the golden skull at its center to look at yours, noticing the small red lines forming on the whites of them from the salt water as he listened while you explained the story of how the medallion came into your possession. 

“Sounds to me like that old man only gave it to you because he already had his fill from it and wouldn't be needing the medallion for a while”, he argued as you watched a scowl form on his face when he peered down at the necklace again. 

“What do you mean by that?”, you asked as curiosity builds up inside of you again. To you, this medallion was just money pirates chased in order to fill their pockets with riches that didn't belong to them and waste it all on cheap ale and pay for a stay at a brothel to use women as they pleased after a long cold journey through sea. But Bakugou’s tone indicated there was something more to it than that.

“This medallion belonged to my people many moon cycles ago… it was originally used to lure merfolk to its host signifying that our mate was near”, you listened intently as he continued explaining the story behind the medallion, watching as his throat bulged and his brows frown deeper the more he talked as if he was holding back on his emotions. 

“But after pirates found out of this, they've been stealing them and using them to capture merfolk to force them to use our magic and exploit it for their own greedy desires, which is how I sensed you near my territory earlier and went to make sure those disgusting bastards were not browsing it freely”

It all made sense now as to how he found you so easily when you were in the middle of nowhere, the medallion had given your location away to him and he set out in pursuit of the intruders sailing through his waters, but must've been confused when he found you. Looking the total opposite from all the pirates he had encountered, for they were brash and smelly when you were sweet and had an aroma unlike any other that he'd ever had the fortune of smelling. Which is why instead of casting the raging tempest he had originally planned for whatever misfortunate soul had stepped into his territory, he decided to investigate you further as he was immediately enamored with your rare beauty. Something ironic for the merman, for it was usually supposed to be the other way around. But nonetheless, he was glad he didn't end your journey, because for the first time in all his lonely springs he was hopeful that fate had taken its rightful course and put you on his path, destined to meet after watching so many of his kind lose their lives on false hope and getting captured, never to be seen again. Hopeful that he had finally found his mate.

And with the way you were looking at him, he couldn't help but to believe it. Your eyes expressed warmth and love, when others had expressed disgust and mischief. This wasn't Bakugou's first close encounter with humans, he had been captured by pirates before and has the scars to prove it where their awful nets had burned his skin. But his powers were no match for those bastards, strong enough to challenge Triton, the god of the sea, if he so pleased. But war was never in his interests, for the merman only desired to find his mate and spend the rest of his days with them in the beautiful and majestic home he has worked so hard to build over the years.

Webbed fingers ran up against your arm before cradling your face in his palm, claws massaging your scalp before gently pulling you into a kiss, this one much more tender than the one on the boat as you felt yourself melt against him. Trailing your fingers against the patches of scales on his strong arm until settling on his shoulder just below his gills. A soft purring returned to his chest when he felt you deepen the kiss as you found yourself craving more of him and the same passion and overwhelming pleasure he gave you on the boat. 

Longing to feel the same bliss you experienced before, as you finally understood what all the maidens meant when you would stumble upon them talking about their intimate encounters with their partners and you couldn't help but to overhear, thinking it would help to prepare you for when your time came. And the more Bakugou delved into your mouth with his tongue, the more your body reacted to him as you felt your arousal begin to drip against your inner thighs. Although you couldn't stop but wonder how this would work with the differences of your bodies.

“Bakugou?”, you whisper as your hand slides from his shoulder down to rest against his chest while pulling back to meet his eyes. “How exactly do we um-...?”

The merman hummed before leaning in to pull you into another kiss. “Don't worry, I'll guide you.” 

Taking your hand on his chest in his webbed one as he guides it down his abdomen over smooth tangerine scales to settle just below his waist. His hand slightly pressing down on yours as your palm rubbed against the scales, feeling the change in texture when the scales shift under your touch. The rumbling emitting from his chest encouraged you as your hand began to move on its own without the merman’s guidance, causing his head to tilt back with a low groan the more you explored the slight dip beneath his scales. Watching how they slowly moved against your hand until a slit formed on his tail, running your fingertips along the edges as slick began to gather along the opening.

Your eyes flickering towards Bakugou’s face, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut making you bite your lip when you venture your fingers further whilst watching his reaction as you run them along the center of his slit, gathering some of his arousal before slowly inserting two fingers inside. Wet warmth immediately engulfed your digits the more you push them in as your thighs twitch from the breathless moans that escapes the merman’s mouth. 

Slowly pulling your fingers out to the first knuckle before pressing them back in as you started to thrust them in and out of the slick hole. Your arousal now pooling beneath you as your cunt clenched around nothing with every soft gasp and whine he made with each of your movements. A whine escaping your own lips when the merman leaned down against your ear and ran his tongue along it, occasionally sucking on your lobe as the slight scrape from his sharp teeth against your skin left you gasping softly as well. Turning your face towards him as your lips immediately linked, sloppily kissing each other as his tongue tasted every part of your mouth before slowly sinking down your throat as drool began to slip past your lips and drip down your chins, making your eyes roll behind your closed lids at the filthy act. 

Pulling the salty muscle out after wallowing in the feel of your throat tightening around him with each gag. Loving the sight of you panting before him as he runs his tongue across your spit-covered collarbones while you catch your breath, never stopping the thrusting in his slit as you begin to feel something hard rub against your digits. The slick becoming more viscous as wet sounds mixed in with your cries and gasps.

Curiosity creeps at you as you scoot down, laying kisses along his muscular chest and abdomen before settling in front of his slit. Pressing quick pecs around it as you feel the merman tremble against your touch, webbed hands reaching for you as they caress the side of your face. Slowly pulling your fingers out as you scissor them to examine the thick slick coating them as sticky strands form between your digits. Bringing them towards you as you give an experimental swipe of your tongue, lashes fluttering at the salty taste before popping them inside your mouth to suck them clean. 

Bakugou’s watchful eyes never leaving yours as his breath hitches in his throat when you lower yourself and give his slit one broad stroke with your tongue. A much louder purring emitting from his chest with each swipe before a yelp bursts from him when you dipped your tongue inside his slit. Slick gushing from it as you tried your best to swallow it all down eagerly while your fingers massaged along the scales around the entrance. 

Stimulating the area until you felt something hard poke the tip of your tongue as you lean back to press your fingers around the slit, feeling how the scales continued to shift again while you watched as something began to emerge from it whilst the merman thrashed under your touch, hearing how the fins at the end of his tail rapidly flapped against the mossy floor and the ones behind his ears flickered.

The merman's cock was an intense shade of red, long and thick with a smooth tapered tip and small ridges along the sides leading towards a pulsing knot just at the base of it. The small hole on the pointed tip leaking a white liquid equally as viscous as the one gathered around his slit, that dripped down on the sparse scales matching those on his body that adorned the bottom of his shaft as it twitched in front of you. Making you lick your lips as you feel yourself salivating at the sight. 

Ignoring how Bakugou opened his mouth to speak but the words trailed off into a moan when you lunged forward to run your tongue along the scales beneath his cock as you shifted your head from side to side to lick around his length, tongue getting caught on each of his ridges. The feel of them causing a shiver to run down your spine as you wondered how they would feel moving inside you before wrapping your lips around the tip, flicking your tongue against it as you lap up his thick release directly from the source. Taking his length in your mouth the best you could, cock too wide to fit completely inside as you wrap your fist around the rest and start pumping it slowly.  

Your other hand nestled between your wet thighs in an attempt to relieve the overwhelming tension on your cunt but to no avail, you needed more - craved more. And Bakugou could tell, desperate for more as well as his knot felt hotter than ever, aching to be buried inside you.

The claws that were gently cradling your face, now dangerously gripping your nape as they urge you forward. Lifting your head from his cock with a wet slurp while strands of slick stretch from your lips to his tip as they cling to your chest when you move further to straddle him. Legs stretching wide from his ample tail as his claws travel down your body until reaching your waist to grope the fat on your hips. 

Guiding you to sit against his throbbing cock as he urges you back and forth to grind your slick pussy against him. The feeling of his scales and ridges rubbing against your cunt makes you shiver while his tip leaks more and more with each motion. Lustful eyes staring down at how your lips part around his thick shaft, his tip nudging your sensitive clit smearing thick arousal against it as it mixes with yours causing wet noises to fill your ears the more you grind on him, gradually picking up the pace until you feel your thighs shake with the need to release, the hard knot at the base of his cock growing bigger as it stretches your lips further, the thought of it inside of you being the final push you needed as you gush all over his cock.

Your warm fluids against the merman’s scales drive him insane as they seep into his slit, the knowledge of you marking him with your essence turns him feral, urging him on with the desperate need to bury his cock inside of you and claim you the way you did him. The way only a mate can.

And he does. Flipping you both over as he rests his strong scaled arms on either side of your head, caging you beneath him while pressing his large cock against your cunt, grinding on you like before with more vigor. His cock leaves a trail of arousal along your abdomen with each yerk of his tail as it starts to pool in your belly button and trail down your mound as the wet noises resume. Your legs parting wider to accommodate his size when your abdomen twists with pleasure, craving to be plugged full of him as your eyes water with how good his ridged cock feels against your needy pussy. 

“Bakugou - ahh - please, put it in”, you whimper as your hands reach for him. 

“Thought you'd never ask”, he rasps, warm breath hitting your skin as he leans down to capture your lips. Dragging his tip down your folds to your entrance, teasing it before pressing forward, slowly entering while your tight walls clench around him. The stretch makes you whimper into the kiss as his tongue ventures inside your mouth, tasting every inch of you as it travels further in, swallowing your cries.

His length gradually pushes into you until his knot is pressed against you, your cunt not quite ready to take its size yet as he slowly starts to pull out, the feel of his scales shifting inside sends shivers up your spine, making you moan around his tongue, tears spilling from your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. His hips stop when only his tapered tip remains inside you before thrusting back in, this time a little quicker than before as the slick from your bodies makes it easier for him to slip right in. 

Drool drips from his mouth to yours as it dribbles past your lips and down your cheeks. The purring from his chest now mixing with his whimpers while the tips of his fins vibrate from the new sensations. Your pussy unlike anything he's ever felt before, tight and hot - so incredibly hot he feels he mind burst from just being inside of you, so used to the cold touch of the sea to aid him during mating season when all he had were his webbed fists. Gummy walls gripping his cock with each thrust as he increases his pace while clawed fingers guide your legs to return to his scaled waist as you wrap them around him.

Pulling his tongue out of your mouth to allow you to catch your breath as the sound of your cries fills the space. Leaning back to watch how your pussy swallows him, his length glistening with your cream as it rings above his knot, so wet and willing for him as he slows down his thrust to press his knot against you, both of you watching as your cunt starts to take it past the top, the stretch feeling so impossibly good and it's not even half way in. Slowly working your cunt around it as he salivates at the sight of your pretty pussy sucking him in - so tender and needy - gripping him tighter every time he pulls back as if begging to be kept nice and full, and who is he to deny you of such needs.

The feel of you is way too good, he might be addicted. The thought of keeping you plugged with his cock and fill you with load after load of his thick cum while his scales soak in your fluids ignites the carnal desire to finally make you his mate as he thrusts the remaining inches of his knot inside. Reveling in the hot, pulsating heaven that engulfs him whole as he groans at the feel of his scales getting soaked by a deliciously warm liquid. Watching as a stream of clear liquid gushes on him from your pussy while you arch up into him, flushed skin and glossy eyes staring up at him as a melody of whimpers flows past your panting lips and he thinks he's never seen a sight more beautiful. 

Pearly spikes flashing at you between his spit-stained lips as he smiles down at you, clawed hands traveling up your body, cupping your tits as they pinch and pull of your nipples causing you to release a whine before cradling your head by your neck, cold thumbs caressing your temples while sharp nails tangle with the damp hair at your nape. Leaning down to pull you into a kiss, slow and succulent, causing you to melt further into him as your stomach jumps with emotions. Hissing when those sharp canines nick at your bottom lip as the metallic taste of your blood fills your mouth. The merman takes a deep inhale when he gets a taste of it as well, eyes rolling behind closed lids as he swipes his tongue against the cut before parting from your lips. Watching as his eyes remain close, savoring your taste as his throat bulges, swallowing down the river of saliva that pools in his mouth.

A hint of fear pricking beneath your skin when he opens his eyes again, darkened irises staring back into yours, like a predator about to devour his prey - carnal and hungry - and you fear he'll swallow you whole, but a part of you might crave exactly that as you feel the pulsing on your clit grow needier. Your pussy clenching around his thick knot gives you away causing a devilish grin to spread across his features again as he slowly pulls his knot out of you before pushing it back in, molding you to his size as he starts to thrust in and out of you with ease the more your pussy sucks him in. 

Setting a steady pace while his arms travel towards your hands, capturing them in his to pin them above your head before leaning down to swipe his tongue on your bottom lip again. The wet muscle exploring down your chin to the center of your throat, his teeth dangerously ghosting above your skin causing goosebumps to burst on your skin at the threat. Feeling how the cold tip of his nose caresses the area before trailing to the side of your neck, lingering on the juncture of your shoulder as he takes a deep inhale against your skin followed by a deep thrust that keeps him buried inside you all the way to the base of cock before resuming his pace when he moves up to your ear. Sucking on your earlobe as you feel the tip of his tongue flick against it inside his mouth before pulling back and settling back down the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder.

The purring in his chest shifting into what could almost sound like hungry growling as the need to make you completely his overtakes him. The teeth that sink into your neck pull a scream from your throat as he plunges his cock forward, creamy ropes of cum spilling inside of you, filling you up with a hot load that pulls another orgasm out of you as your pussy clings to the knot pulsing against your gummy walls while you gush all over his scales. The flow of blood traveling into his mouth sends him into bliss as it urges him to spill more of his seed into you, certain to breed you with his litter from the copious amount that is now dribbling down your rear and pooling beneath you to be absorbed by the mossy floor. 

By the time his knot stops pulsing, you're both left a sweaty and panting mess. His fangs retreating from your neck as blood drips from the puncture to which he dives back in to swipe his tongue against it to clean it before meeting your gaze again. Noticing how his eyes have returned to the love-filled ones that first brought you here while his hands release yours to gently brush the stray hairs clinging to your damp forehead before leaning down to capture your lips again in an even gentler kiss, the taste of your blood still lingering in his mouth while he shifts his weight so that you could lay on top of him, while you wait for the knot inside of you to swell down. 

Soft touches and loving gazes as he tends to you, making sure your comfortable and taken care off as he wiggles his tail to sink against the moss, creating a bed for the both of you to rest makes you realize how thinking back on it, it was an insult to compare this to that of the maiden's encounters, for those were thoughtless with the purpose of creating more heirs to their husbands family names and earn them more obliging political images, but this was filled with love and attention that only a true lover could provide.

And although you weren't certain where your future would lie alongside the merman, you felt oddly at peace after so many years of chasing after dreams or expectations that could never fulfill your needs quite like he can as you settle against his chest, gentle claws rubbing circles against your back as the soft purring from his chest lures you to sleep. 

“Rest, my mate”, you hear the faint whisper of his voice against your hair as you smile to yourself, making the mental note to thank Captain Aizawa for the medallion regardless of his intentions if destiny ever were to set him back on your path.

#merman!bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader smut #katsuki bakugou x reader smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou katsuki x you #bnha bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou smut #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou x fem!reader smut

[slexenskee]

The Continuation of Satoru Supremacy

Am I just going to slot this poor boy into every fandom? Signs are pointing to yes at this point lol. Ok so I've had either a JJK/HOTD and JJK/GOT crossover rumbling around my brain for ages now and its gotten to a boiling point lol. The JJK/GOT would probably be Satoru/Robb Stark and the JJK/HOTD probably Satoru/Aegon II. I have them pretty fleshed out in my head ngl.

THE PROBLEM is that I love his name, Satoru, and it literally makes no sense to have him reincarnate into ASOIAF works and somehow end up with that name, which means I would need to change it, and I don't know wtf to change it to.

Literally grasping at straws rn lol. I lowkey like Soren since it sounds Valyrian enough and also I feel like Satoru would be over the moon about it because he'd share a name with one of his favorite Fire Emblem characters.

Anyway the HOTD one would be a isekai/reincarnation AU with Satoru as Daemon and Rheanyra's surprise brothel baby that Rheanyra had to get shotgun-wedding'd to Leanor for 😅 so yeah Satoru is once again causing chaos and problems for other people just by existing... this time before he was even born! He's also called the Radiant Prince and also still the Honored One because he's basically a god and everyone in HOTD is going to damn well know it.

WIP:

In this life, as in his last, his birth was heralded with reverence and veneration, and wrought with untenable legacy. 

He was the firstborn son of the Realm’s Delight, lovely and fair and every bit as preternaturally beautiful as his mother. He was said to have his grandmother’s Arryn blue eyes, the king’s tousled white curls, his mother’s smile, and the very birthright of his great Valyrian heritage etched into his very existence; from his heavenly features, to his dragon, to the very name bestowed upon him. 

For days on end the whole realm celebrated his birth as a magnificent affair; bells tolled long into the night, nobles spilled from the four corners of Westeros bearing gifts of abundance and splendor, the smallfolk celebrated en masse along the streets of King’s Landing. 

They called him a blessed child, a perfect child, a glorious new heir for the throne. 

Upon his very birth the Princess Rheanys was said to have looked into his heavenly eyes and pronounced him a gift from the gods of old Valyria. Those same eyes, a precious, celestial blue resembling the late Queen Aemma, were said to have reduced his grandfather the King to tears from the moment he opened them. Lord Velaryon had named them a mark of the gods’ favor; such a curious, mystifying color, never settling no matter the lighting, as mercurial as a tempest sea. 

Just the mere sight of such a marvelous child, a mortal so obviously marked by the gods, so destined for greatness, could easily quell the rumors beginning long before his birth. 

Such derelict hearsay would never grace the ears of such a divine prince, of course. But he heard it anyway.

They rushed the wedding, they said. 

The princess was meant to start her royal procession to select her prince consort, but instead was married to the Velaryon heir within a moon’s turn. (The King had to appease the Velaryon’s somehow, after the way he snubbed their pure Valyrian heiress for his Hightower bride.)

The babe came early— so suspiciously early. (The Princess Rheanyra was so young, of course she would have difficulty carrying to term. Didn’t you see him? The babe was born so small!)

And he looks every bit a Targaryen, not a speck of Velaryon to be seen on him. (But of course the blood of Aegon the Conqueror would run strong within the royal line— and the Princess Rheanys is his paternal grandmother, such features run on both sides. Why, look at Queen Alicent's children! Do they look Hightower to you?) 

The Rogue Prince dotes on him, shockingly so. He perhaps even reconciled with his brother just to remain near the young prince. (The Rogue Prince has always remained stoutly devoted to his family, no matter his unsavory reputation, his loyalty to the throne is unquestioned. That he is just as devoted to his brother’s heir as he is to his brother is merely filial piety.) 

No matter the rumors swirling around him, it only took a single glance from his blessed blue eyes to halt the whispers in their tracks. 

His divine beauty and grace, his mystical eyes, his magnificent dragon— such pedestrian slander seemed silly and absurd in the face of them. 

To question the legitimacy of the Radiant Prince, the Honored One… no mere mortal could possibly be capable of uttering such blasphemy. 

#fic WIP #Gojo Satoru once again reincarnated against his will into other fandoms #Casually over powered Gojo strikes again #Gojo Satoru as a targaryen

[sweetteaanddragons]

A snippet from my “Elladan and Aragorn get stuck in First Age Beleriand” WIP.

. . .

“Elladan?” Aragorn asked urgently from the other side of the small camp they had at last dared. “Is aught amiss?”

Elladan could not quite help laughing, high and bitter, at that. “Aught else, you mean?”

Aught else besides the fact that they were mere miles from the worst battlefield in elvish history. Aught else besides the fact that they were several millennia away from home. Aught else besides the fact that they were desperately hiding behind the best illusion Elladan could sing up while roving hunting parties of orcs - and far worse monsters - hunted for the scent of elvish blood - a liquid they had all too much of, thanks to their wounded and currently nameless companion.

Besides all that.

Aragorn only regarded him steadily, concern in his eyes, and Elladan abruptly regretted that he was no longer little Estel, who would have blushed and looked away instead of looking at him with eyes that were uncomfortably like Elladan’s father’s in their seeming ability to peer into souls.

Because there was, of course, something else.

He looked away, into the dangerous darkness overlaying the trees. “It has occurred to me to wonder what my father will say if I have to tell him that I got you killed over a handful of rocks.”

“I would certainly prefer to avoid that as well,” Aragorn said dryly. “Although it is not quite a fair summation of events regardless.”

Elladan’s mouth twisted, but he didn’t protest further; Aragorn would not concede the point, and it would bring Elladan no joy if he did. Aragorn might have pushed the matter further, but their patient - or, more accurately, Aragorn’s - had the good manners to quite conveniently moan, drawing his attention away.

There were a great many other things to be more immediately concerned about, but it had been thoughts of his father that had put the stricken look on Elladan’s face, and he found it hard to shake such thoughts now.

There had been many times over the years when Elladan had been forced to bring the news to his father that another of Elladan’s cousins had fallen. In battle, to an illness they had not had time to bring them to Elrond to heal, on truly rare occasions to old age - it was always a heavy duty, but it was a duty he could bear.

He had never yet had to bear the news that he had gotten one of them killed, and he truly, deeply, devoutly did not want to begin with Estel.

There had been times, of course, where he wondered if he could have done something different - if he had ridden faster, left earlier, fought harder - but there had never been a true case for blame.

He had never before, for instance, gone into a troll cave with one of his mortal cousins and completely lost his head over an obvious trap.

It had been a set of silver pins that had caught his eye - pins hung with little bells, decorated with tiny sapphires, silver somehow untarnished.

They had looked exactly like the pins that his mother had worn when she had ridden away, never to return whole. They had been missing when they had at last found her, though it had not been until they were carefully packing her most treasured things away to send with her across the sea that anyone had realized.

It had not occurred to him to wonder how the pins could be so gleaming, here amongst the filth of a troll hoard. It had not occurred to him to think anything, beyond his rage that anything of hers should be kept in the filth and the dark.

He had reached to snatch them up, despite Estel’s warning cry.

And for his pains, he had landed them on the edges of the worst battle he had ever imagined, much less fought in. For a moment, he had thought them in Dagor Dagorath itself, until he had seen the banners.

He was still not quite prepared to accept those banners.

How they’d survived, he had no idea; his memory was not quite as perfect as an elf’s, and he was grateful for that hint of mortality now. All he knew was that it was over, Estel was still alive, and they had even managed to snatch one poor elf away from - from something’s blow as they went.

(A balrog. He was nearly certain that had been a balrog. He had screamed defiance at a balrog - )

Said elf had been barely able to stand, so Estel had dragged him with them as they ran, which could have been a mistake on a practical level if it hadn’t kept anyone from shooting them in the back for retreating with rather less organization than everyone else was.

. . . People had been surprisingly helpful, even.

But all of that paled next to the thought that they were in long lost Beleriand, home of a thousand dangers, and, if all those failed, millennia away from any time familiar to them. Even if Elladan managed to get home the long way, Aragorn certainly would not.

And then he would have to face his father and tell him he had gotten Estel killed over a handful of metal and rock.

Bad enough to get anyone killed in such a way; worse for it to be one of his cousins; unthinkable for it to be the last of his cousins, the current last of Elros’s direct line.

And worse than all of those for it to be Estel, who had chased after them as a child, who had played with his little wooden sword with such seriousness, who had grown up grim and strong and still so, so concerned with what he saw when he looked at others with eyes that scraped right through their souls.

His father, who had managed to forgive the Feanorians, might someday forgive him. Elrohir and Arwen never would.

Nor, for that matter, would Gilraen, who might kill him outright. He would probably deserve it.

#aragorn #elladan #fingon #though they don't quite know it yet #time travel #silmarillion #Fic #wip

[bbcphile]

WIP Wednesday

I've finally worked up the courage to post the opening of one of the Mysterious Lotus Casebook fics I'm writing (Li Lianhua/Di Feisheng/Fang Duobing), specifically, from my post-canon fic where LLH's shiniang tried to sacrifice herself to cure him.

Tw/cw: suicide attempt, mention of off-page non-consensual medical procedure, internalized ableism

***

Li Lianhua crashed to his hands and knees on the ground as the last trickle of his borrowed qi abandoned him, the densely-packed sand doing nothing to cushion the blow. The impact rattled through his spine and ribs, shaking loose a bout of coughing that forced him to swallow down the burning flare of copper trying to escape from his mouth. He couldn’t cough up blood now, not here, too many steps away from the water’s reach. It would leave evidence of his route, a trail that his shiniang would undoubtedly follow once she had broken free from the immobilization. He couldn’t let her find him until the job was done. 

He pushed himself to standing, his arms and legs shaking hard enough to nearly drop him back to his knees, and he blinked to will the dancing black spots from his eyes. The waves awaited him, and he refused to crawl to meet them. He took a staggering step toward the sound of crashing water ahead of him, far fainter now than it had any right to be, and squinted against the sunlight to get his bearings. 

A large gray lump on his left snagged his attention, disrupting the blur of gold and blue that filled up the rest of his view. Why did that look familiar? He took an unsteady step closer, pressing his palm against his chest to convince his lungs to hold back a cough one more time, and the gray lump resolved into a rock. 

A rock that had once served as a pillow that was soft only in comparison to how hard the rest of the day had been.

Of course. He’d landed at Donghai beach. He swallowed back tears with a bitter laugh. Never let it be said that the universe didn’t have a sense of humor.  

He’d returned after all: three months late for the duel and over a decade late for bringing his decrepit body back to the waves that had so decisively spat him out. But surely this time, with all the mysteries solved and no business left unfinished, the sea would accept the offering of his broken frame. Li Xiangyi was long dead and it was past time for Li Lianhua to follow his example. He was already a ghost in every way that mattered. And this was the only way to guarantee his shiniang would live.

She would be furious, of course, but wasn’t furious better than dead? How could it be unfilial to make sure she lived on? Too many people had died for him; he refused to let her join those ranks. Dying to save her was already a far better death than he deserved. 

As for the others, Xiaobao would have his teachings and would be too busy climbing the heights of the jianghu to miss the weak physician he once protected. 

And a-Fei—

—well, how could he still fixate on defeating a ghost with Xiaobao shining more brightly than Li Xiangyi ever had?

No, this end was far better for everyone, and best of all, no one would sacrifice their life or be forced to play caretaker to an empty husk of a man.

A familiar chill seared through his veins and meridians, despite the warmth of the fur of his outer layer, stealing away his breath and the amorphous blue blur before him. He took another stumbling step toward where it had been, his heart stuttering painfully in his chest. 

Not much longer now. It seemed his frenzied dash here and self-shattered heart meridian were more efficient for what he had in mind than the weight his waterlogged fur coat would have offered.

Perhaps he didn’t need the coat for this at all. His body would certainly float further without it. And not even his shiniang could save him now, so what harm could it do to leave some evidence behind? Xiaobao might not believe the beggar’s words, but surely this fur cloak at the water’s edge would put to rest any lingering futile hopes. And then Xiaobao would tell a-Fei.

And if it brought them peace, if it let them say goodbye, then how could he not leave it behind?

It was decided, then. 

He lifted his hands to the coat’s laces, then paused. Were those voices? For a moment, he could have sworn he heard—

—Ah, no, the hallucinations must have started again. 

He smiled. At least he had heard a-Fei and Xiabao one last time, if only in his mind.

He untied his laces with fumbling, stiff fingers, and let the coat fall behind him. 

His heart and lungs clenched with another spasm, and a wave of dizziness broke over him, threatening to drop him to his knees once more. 

He fought against it, muscles shaking as they never had during battles. He couldn’t surrender now; not until he reached the water. He could manage three more steps. He had to.

He tried to lift his foot again.

The world swam before him, and darkness dragged him under.

#mysterious lotus casebook #mlc fic #my fic #Li Lianhua #Di Feisheng #Fang Duobing #Feihua #tw: suicide attempt #the fic will end happily I swear! #This is just about the lowest point for everyone #This is my first time really sharing my creative writing publicly in about 4 years #I am sooooo nervous omg #yay for at least temporarily being healthy enough to write! #wip wednesday #the POVs of the fic alternate between all 3 of the MCs #and they are all unreliable narrators in different ways

[daffi-990]

WIP Wednesday 📝

Tagged by @jamespearce9-1-1 & @thewolvesof1998

All the love for my last snippet from my Fantasy AU got the writing beans going and I got 2K written for it today ☺️.

A lot of you were so curious what happened to Bobby, so here is a snippet that explains things a bit. It’s set before the prev snippet I shared. I wrote this on the notes app of my phone and it’s a rough first draft so hopefully it reads well and makes sense. I really really wanted to share the whole 2K I wrote today because this girl loves validation, but I restrained myself so enjoy this long snippet instead xx

A pained groan from their right has Eddie shooting up quickly and moving towards-

“Bobby!” Buck is scrambling to his feet, feeling a bit like a newborn baby deer on wobbly legs as he closes the distance between them. He falls to his knees besides Eddie, who is helping Bobby sit up against a large rock. The arrow sticking out of Bobby’s side is surrounded by a sea of red that has spread across Bobby’s shirt. Eddie rips the fabric of the shirt open to reveal the entry wound, the smell of blood flooding Buck’s nose causing bile to rise in his throat that he quickly swallows back down.

“Shit.” Eddie hisses as he inspects the wound carefully.

Bobby winces in pain. “Eddie, you need to go.” His voice comes out strained, breaths sounding heavy with exertion and Buck is fucking terrified. He can’t lose Bobby. He can’t he can’t he can’t.

Eddie stills his hands, lifting his head to meet Bobby’s eyes. “Bobby- ”

“More are coming and you can’t fight them off alone.”

“I can fight.” Buck says with determination. Bobby made sure Buck was skilled in combat, and now Buck understands why. The soldiers hunting them aren’t going to stop if they best him. No, they’ll go for the killing blow. They’re battle hungry and fighting for a cause that they truly believe in, and that’s what makes them so dangerous, not the weapons or magic they’re wielding, though that certainly doesn’t help. Buck won’t deny that he’s scared, but he will not stand back and do nothing. “Bobby, I can fight. Let me protect you.” He pleads, blinking away the tears that have been building in his eyes. They trickle down his face, feeling warm and heavy with with grief.

Bobby smiles sadly at him, Eddie getting to his feet and stepping back to give them some space. “I know you can, Buck.” His hand lands on Buck’s neck, thumb a comforting weight on the hinge of his jaw. “But there’s fifteen more armed soldiers coming and the two of you can’t fight that many, not with so much at risk.” He looks pointedly at Buck now and Buck wants to scream and yell at whatever deity dealt him these cards. He closes his eyes against the fresh onslaught of tears. “You need to go. Eddie will protect you and keep you safe.”

Buck shakes his head vehemently. “No, no I’m not leaving you.” He won’t leave Bobby here to die alone, he’ll die with him if it comes down to it. Bobby saved Buck all those years ago, has been saving him every day of his life just by existing and loving him, now it’s Buck’s turn to return the favour. He opens his eyes and meets Bobby’s with a new sense of determination. He is not leaving him.

Bobby looks over Buck’s shoulder and gives a small nod of his head before strong arms are wrapping around Buck and pulling him away.

“No! I’m not leaving you!” Buck fights against Eddie’s arms, thrashing and kicking out, desperately trying to get back to Bobby. He is not leaving him. “Bobby! Don’t do this! Dad!”

“May Elrus guide your soul, Robert Nash.” Eddie says, Buck feeling the vibrations from his voice along his back before Eddie tightens his arms around Buck and then the ground beneath his feet is gone, air whipping around them as they shoot into the sky.

Buck yells, clutching onto Eddie’s arms, stomach swooping like he’s on the drop of a rollercoaster. A strong gust of wind blows and sends them soaring through the air, the shape of Bobby growing smaller and smaller until Buck can no longer see him through the haze of tears freely falling from his eyes.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @callmenewbie @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon @malewifediaz @lover-of-mine @theotherbuckley @loserdiaz @wildlife4life @eddiebabygirldiaz @ladydorian05 @spagheddiediaz @fortheloveofbuddie @hoodie-buck @giddyupbuck @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @weewootruck @steadfastsaturnsrings @captain-hen @monsterrae1 @try-set-me-on-fire @the-likesofus @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz

#fantasy au #daffi writes #buddie wip #buddie #I feel like I don’t get into Buck’s head enough but also don’t want to just be drowning in his thoughts if you know what I mean? #also should I spoil whether Bobby lives or not? 🤔 #buddie fantasy au

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

VIII ║ Concentric

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

 { << Part 7: Contrary | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: You and Dieter come full circle.

Warnings: Shenanigans, fighting, drinking, swearing, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), face sitting, safe unprotected sex (be smart kids!), multiple orgasms (f and m), cumshot, cum play, size kink, light spanks, yearning, mentions of food, fluff, feelings, no use of Y/N

Word count: 11.5k (it's only fitting that we break the word count record on the last chapter!)

Note: October 2013. That was the last time I finished a WIP, and that one took me 6.5 years. Years, I kid you not. So please forgive me for being extremely melodramatic and emotional about finishing Consent in just over 5 months.

I thought I was done with fanfiction and writing, and I've never been happier to be proven wrong. I wouldn't have believed it if you told me the next series I'd complete would be about a man called Dieter Bravo. You've all been the most incredibly supportive readers, and I'm so lucky to count many of you as friends. I don't know what I've done to deserve you. Thank you, thank you, thank you - this is for all of my fellow Dieter Bravo hoes (affectionate) ❤️ 

I had a lot of help for this chapter. To avoid any spoilers, I will be thanking everyone at the end of this chapter.

There’s always a jarring sense of disconnect when you land in a country you’ve never been to before. Even more so after a red-eye, a connecting flight you almost missed and a long drive from the airport to the little seaside town you’ve seen so much of in Ana’s stories.

It doesn’t help that you’ve been wide-eyed the entire journey, your head too loud to switch off.

The sleep deprivation makes it doubly surreal to see the mountains, the Tyrrhenian Sea and picture-perfect towns zoom past the car window. To feel the sunshine on your face as your taxi eases around hairpin turns on the coastal roads, then down narrow streets - barely squeezing past the summer crowds - as your destination draws close.

The car purrs to a halt in front of a charming pink-orange house that looks like something straight out of Under The Tuscan Sun, where Ana is waiting impatiently. She nearly rips off the door handle and throws her arms around you as soon as you clamber out of the car.

‘I missed you!’ you mumble into her hair.

‘You too, bitch!’ she squeals, dragging your suitcase off the sidewalk. ‘Let’s get you unpacked and showered. We’re going on a cast and crew sunset cruise in a couple of hours, so you can finally meet Richard Linklater. I hope you brought something pretty to wear!’

You didn’t pack much summer attire with you to Calgary, but you did bring your trusty yellow dress from that night, which feels like a lifetime ago - if not from another one entirely. The shower perks you up somewhat - at least you don’t smell like an economy plane cabin anymore. You’re putting on your makeup in a futile attempt to cover up the dark circles under your eyes when Ana comes back to the apartment.

She hands you an espresso and a cannoli, which you take gratefully. ‘Thank you so much. My biological clock is so confused, I don’t know when I last ate.’

‘Don’t worry, hon, there will be plenty of food and drink on the boat,’ says Ana. Eyeing you over critically, she runs a makeup brush or two over your cheekbones, and dabs some colour onto your lips. ‘You look great. Shall we?’

The town is absolutely darling, and you have to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not actually dreaming this. The weathered cobblestones are slippery beneath your leather sandals as you trail behind Ana. Your tummy rumbles at the smell of sweet tomatoes and baking bread, and you can’t help but run a hand over beautiful summer fruits as you walk by stalls on street corners, brimming with produce. Exuberant Italian conversation surrounds you, and you lose yourself in words that you don’t understand.

Your breath catches when you round a corner and the blue sea comes into view, the fresh scent of salt and summer in the air. With her arm hooked through yours, Ana leads you across the water front, pointing out her favourite restaurants and watering holes, clearly having settled well into her workplace these past months. You’re distracted when you spot a familiar low wall, recognising it as where Dieter and Constance posed for one of their many Instagram stories.

Distracted, you nearly walk into Ana when she stops abruptly in front of an extravagant-looking yacht, spread over two levels, her arms outstretched in a flourish. ‘Ta-da! The perks of the movie being financed by a rich local guy - free boat trip every weekend!’

‘Fancy,’ you remark, suddenly nervous that you’re underdressed for the occasion.

‘He’s newly divorced too,’ she adds with a wink. ‘And stop fussing, you look fantastic. Come on, I see Richard - I’ll introduce you!’

The boat is fairly full, people bustling about with drinks and canapes in hand. Despite being jetlagged and incredibly starstruck, you manage to somewhat hold it together when Ana introduces you to your favourite director. She offers to get you a cold drink and leaves you to chatter with him. You talk about your favourite movies of his, his career, and a bit of yours, before someone shows up at his elbow to whisk him away. You shake his hand and thank him for his time, and he gives you his business card before he takes his leave.

The boat pulled away from the port while you weren’t looking, sailing smoothly towards the calm, open sea. You glance about, trying to look nonchalant and to keep your breathing under control. Now that you’ve met your hero, you have to contend with the fact that you came to Italy for something else.

Someone else.

A voice catches your ear. Familiar and gruff, drawling in a bored monotone.

There’s no dramatic swell of music in your ears, or the fading of the world until it’s just the two of you and no one else. It’s almost anti-climatic, really. 

You tilt your face towards the upper deck - and there he is.

One of his signature earth-tone t-shirts (you know he has more than one) hangs comfortably off his broad shoulders, sunglasses hooked at the neck, dragging the ragged neckline low. The sea breeze ruffles his curls, longer than they were on Resurgence, the sun bringing out undertones of gold. He’s chatting to a man - or rather, being chatted at - leaning his weight on his elbows on the bannister, scratching at his beard, wearing his usual air of indifference. 

One look and the clocks turn. It takes you right back. You remember exactly what it’s like to be that close to him, to be wrapped up in the broadness of him - the feeling of his body warmth, how soft his t-shirt is when you rest your cheek on his chest.

You haven’t moved a muscle, but somehow, his head turns just a fraction, and he finds you.

If not for the physical distance between you, you’d be convinced that he’s reached inside you and squeezed your heart with the whole of his hand until it stopped pumping, blood roaring inside your ears with nowhere to go. His stare - bewilderment and awe and hunger - pins you to the spot.

And you know. You just do.

They are the same eyes you woke up to so many mornings. First thing when consciousness seeps in and you blink away the last remnants of the night before, his arms around you or yours around him. Through thick lashes and peeking from under heavy eyelids, syrupy-slow with sleep as they sweep over the contours of your profile, lips curling into a warm smile.

Yours.

He’s long stopped listening to the man, and even from where you are, you see him grip the wooden railing tight, disturbing his rings, the same ones he always wears.

Then she appears.

An Aperol Spritz in each hand and a small plate of canapes balanced awkwardly on the sides of her wrists, she nudges his side hurriedly with her elbow, her platonic tone carrying despite the rush of the sea. ‘Oi! Grab your drink, dude. Come on - it’s slipping!’

The naked panic on his face only reaffirms what your intuition tells you.

Ana finally returns to you with chilled champagne, grumbling about the crowds at the bar. Taking a glass, you turn to her and nod towards the upper deck. ‘So - Dieter and Constance.’

‘What about them?’ she asks innocently, taking a big gulp of bubbly.

You watch as Dieter furiously whispers into Constance’s ear. Her eyes widen in obvious excitement, darting everywhere until they settle on you for the briefest second before she schools in her features. You hear Dieter hiss, ‘Don’t be so freaking obvious, Jesus Christ.’

You fight the urge to giggle - and you never giggle. An Oscar winner and an Olivier nominee walk into a china shop and they’re about as subtle as two bulls after a red flag.

You turn to Ana and ask conversationally, ‘They’re not really together, are they?’

She shrugs, poker face firmly on. ‘Don’t know what you mean, hon.’

‘Ana,’ you put on a serious tone.

Never one to stand her ground under pressure, she surrenders far too easily. ‘Fine, they’re not! Before you yell at me, it was all Dieter’s idea. And I’m sorry it upset you, but I’m not sorry that it worked! I’m not going to apologise for helping him get you back.’

The words tumble out of your mouth before your head catches up. ‘He wants me back?’

It’s beyond strange to acknowledge aloud what’s between you and him for the first time. You’ve never even articulated it to yourself.

Ana beams, bumping shoulders with you. ‘You better believe it, hon.’

Your head feels like it’s filling up with helium and any second, you’ll be lifted off the wooden deck. You’re so fucking confused - should you be angry that he basically tricked you into coming here? Should you be elated that he went to such lengths to get you here?

There are no answers, but there’s booze. Lots of it. 

So you bring the glass of champagne to your lips and tip your head back, draining the flute until there’s nothing left.

‘Whoa! What are you doing?’ squeaks Ana as you plant the empty glass on a cocktail table nailed to the deck.

Crossing your arms, you say, ‘You’re right, his little ploy worked. But if he thinks he can mess with me without paying for it, he’s got another thing coming.’

‘For fuck’s sake, can’t you two just talk to each other like normal people for once?’

‘Ana, I was miserable! For weeks!’

‘Girl, I’m gonna give it to you straight. Even if he didn’t pull this Constance bullshit, you would’ve been miserable anyway because you broke up with him!’ She clasps her palms together in a desperate prayer. ‘I’m begging you, can you two please just make up!’

You hold out stubbornly. ‘Not until I’ve messed with his head at least a little bit.’

‘This is not what I signed up for,’ Ana grumbles.

You laugh and drape an arm over her shoulder, giving her a squeeze. ‘It’ll be fun. I promise. I flew all the way here, I deserve a little restitution.’

She whines. ‘Hon, come on, what am I going to tell Dieter?’

You hold up a stern finger. ‘Nothing. You can’t tell him that I know, you owe me as much. I also need you to distract him while I talk to Constance.’

She frowns. ‘Constance? What are you planning?’

You wink and turn to leave without giving her an answer.

Ana watches you go with a long-suffering sigh. She’s taking a deep glug of champagne when Dieter ambushes her, startling her into a coughing fit.

His usual air of chaos has intensified exponentially, she can almost feel it physically vibrate off of him. He spills Aperol everywhere when he asks with his hands. ‘What the fuck, Ana?’

‘What?’ she shoots back defensively.

‘Why didn’t you tell me she was coming? Are you double crossing me?’

‘Double cross - what does that even mean in this context?’

Dieter’s not interested in her answer though. His eyes are darting about, looking for you. ‘What’s she doing here? Did our plan work or did you tell her?’

Technically, you found out on your own, so Ana is comfortable lying through her teeth. ‘I didn’t! She said she came to see me and to meet Richard, that’s it.’

He’s talking to himself now more than anything. ‘She must suspect something, but I don’t think she knows about the whole set-up.’ Pausing, he pokes her in the side in a warning. ‘You can’t tell her that you know I think she knows.’

Ana’s eyes nearly roll behind her skull in exasperation. ‘Couldn’t if I wanted to. Here’s a bright idea - why don’t you go talk to her?’

Dieter’s frown deepens as his determination hardens. ‘No, fuck that. She broke up with me. I’m not going to be the one giving in.’

Ana waves in a frenzy to get someone’s attention to refill her empty glass, letting out a cry of relief when a server starts making their way over. ‘What do you mean by not giving in?’

Dieter swigs his glass clean and sticks it out to the server to fill it up. ‘Keep doing what Constance and I were doing. Until she cracks.’

‘Just so we’re on the same page, this entire weekend, you’re going to keep pretending to date Constance and throw it in her face, instead of just making up? What could possibly go wrong?’

‘Way to be supportive, Ana.’

She gives him dead eyes in response. If only Pete was here to back her up. Speaking of whom - he’s really missing out big time. She’ll have to call him to fill him in tonight.

Dieter half-turns to leave, but something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. He does a double take, craning his whole body forward and squinting dramatically to take a better look. 

‘Ana, why the fuck is my girlfriend talking to my fake girlfriend?’

Constance is not hard to find, with her willowy figure and luscious curls billowing in the wind. She seems to have recovered her composure from when she first spotted you, and when your gazes meet on your approach, they give nothing away. 

‘Hi Constance,’ you say casually in greeting.

She plays it cool with a polite smile. ‘Hi there. Have we met?’

‘I know you know who I am, Constance.’

She blinks her doe eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, I really don’t think I do.’

You shuffle in closer and say under your breath, just in case someone overhears. ‘I know you were in it with Dieter - his little plan to get me jealous. Ana told me.’

The mask melts so quickly that you can’t help but find it endearing. Dragging you by the elbow into the privacy of the cabin, a sincere crease in her brow, she confesses, ‘About that, I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t want to do it at first, I swear. But he’s so smitten with you and he was just about ready to try anything to get you back -’

You shush her and grab her free hand. Both of you have just enough alcohol in your systems to feel the pull of the universal, sisterly bond between drunk women, despite having only met thirty seconds ago. You reassure her, ‘No, please don’t apologise. I’m not angry - well, a tiny bit mad at him for messing with me, but not at you.’

‘But I feel so bad,’ insists Constance. ‘You must have felt strongly enough to have flown all this way. Please, if there’s anything I can do.’

‘Listen, if you want to make it up to me - you could do me a favour.’

Constance nods solemnly. ‘Anything.’

You grin mischievously. ‘Will you help me get back at Dieter?’

Dieter mopes in his corner on the upper deck, growling and hissing at anyone who dares approach, drowning himself in Aperol Spritz. He doesn’t particularly like that stuff, but when in Rome and all that shit.

From his perch, he can see and hear you laughing loudly at something Constance says to you, champagne in hand, having a whale of a time.

There’s no two ways around it. His plan failed. Ana’s right. You came to see your friend, not him. If you did and knowing you, you’d be doing something to get his attention. You’d be trying to make him jealous. You’d be mad, spitting flame and venom.

You’re giving him nothing. You haven’t even deigned to glance his way after you locked eyes for that brief moment.

But… you’re wearing that dress. Surely you haven’t forgotten what happened the last time you showed up in his trailer wearing that -

Another peal of laughter pulls him from his thoughts. He slurps on the straw until it gurgles at the empty bottom of his glass.

You didn’t expect to like Constance. It turns out she grew up in the same county as you, just a few towns over, you even share a few distant mutual acquaintances. You chit-chat about everything - your schools, the local beaches, working with Dieter. 

The boat has anchored in the middle of the sea for the sunset, and you’re sitting on the deck at the back with your feet dangling in the cool water, sandals by your side. You marvel at the view - the beauty of this place is unreal. Village houses hug the rugged shoreline, stacked one on top of the other in gravity-defying fashion up the steep cliffside, dramatic mountains rising above behind the town. The setting sun throws a rose gold tint over the valley, the sky burning orange.

Even if you don’t go away with what you came for, this could be enough.

Constance giggles drunkenly, looking over your shoulder. ‘He’s watching you again. You’ve really riled him up.’

You resist the very great temptation to take a peek. But you know Dieter - the longer you hold out, the better the payoff later.

There’s a scrape of footsteps and Ana appears with her phone out. ‘Selfie time, bitches!’

‘How’s Dieter?’ asks Constance, shuffling over to make space for Ana.

She sighs. ‘So confused. When will you put him out of his misery, hon?’

You shrug. ‘He can hold out a little longer. Constance, remember, you have to keep up the whole charade for maximum effect, ok?’

She wrinkles her nose. ‘It would be weird doing it in front of you though.’

‘Are you a working actress or not?’ you tease.

Ana chortles, and Constance raises her glass. ‘Alright, alright, I’ll do it - for you. To new friends.’

The three of you clink glasses clumsily, bumping shoulders and cackling at everything and nothing at all. 

You’ll drink to that.

When the yacht docks, spontaneous dinner plans are made, with those wanting to prolong the evening revelry wandering down the cobblestone streets to a trattoria frequented by the cast and crew.

The dozen or so of you sit at a long, rickety table under fairy lights, the plentiful food and drink illuminated by candles dripping wax as they burn low. Easy conversation, a mix of English and Italian, ebb and flow over the course of the slow dinner.

You’re sitting in the middle of the table, flanked by Ana and directly opposite Dieter, with Constance to his immediate left.

The actress keeps her promise to you, practically dousing Dieter in PDA. She’s feeding him pasta, handing you her phone to take photos of them kissing and practically sitting in his lap. He’s unresponsive, staring at you openly throughout dinner.

It takes all of your resolve to not give in to meet his eyes.

The street gets rowdier by the hour, and the group thins after dessert and limoncello is served. When an impromptu band shows up and starts playing music right next to your table, Constance tries to pull Dieter to his feet for a dance, but he’s like dead weight, pouting and somehow burrows himself deeper into his wooden chair. Unperturbed, Constance grabs Ana instead, joining the raucous crowd gathering on the sidewalk.

It’s just the two of you left at the table.

You finally let yourself look at him, finding his gaze already trained on you. You took it easy on the wine over dinner, allowing the rich food to soak up all the alcohol you had on the boat. But you still feel buzzed enough to do something bold.

Scooping a generous helping of tiramisu and bringing it to your lips, you lick the underside of the spoon, collecting the cream on your tongue, before pushing it into your mouth. Your eyes flutter close as you moan around the spoonful of smooth mascarpone and coffee-soaked biscuit.

Dieter’s jaw goes slack, and you spot the pink tip of his tongue between his parted lips, his chest rising and falling quickly. Leaning forward, you reach out and trace your index finger up the back of his hand until you reach his ring with the black gemstone. He doesn’t try to hide the shudder that runs like a current through his body.

The power you so easily wield over him is both sweet and heady. You decide to push him further, leaning your elbows on the table and drawing your shoulders together, making the neckline of your dress gape and your cleavage pop.

The way he stares is gasoline to the fire under your skin.

When you speak, he demonstrates that he still remains somewhat in possession over his faculties as he drags his gaze up, with considerable difficulty, to your face.

You wear a bright smile, and your tone is syrupy sweet. ‘You’re one lucky guy - Constance is amazing. Honestly, I think you’re perfect for each other. I’m so happy for you, Dieter.’

He echoes your words, slowly. ‘You’re… you’re happy for me?’

You blink, butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth as you answer, ‘Yes, I am. So happy for you.’

He stutters, before his words peter out. ‘But - but you were meant to be -’

‘Meant to be what?’ you prompt.

When he doesn’t reply, you give him a pat on his hand. ‘Take care of yourself, Dieter.’

He’s so stunned that he doesn’t react as he watches you go. 

Dieter thinks for a second, the pasta and pizza and bread having absorbed enough alcohol from his bloodstream for him to dig deep for some clarity within himself. He re-runs your words in his head, a deep frown on his brow.

Hold the fucking phone.

He scrambles onto his feet so hard that his chair hits the pavement, and he runs after you.

He crashes through the crowds half-blind, angry Italian cursing thrown his way, until he leaves the ruckus behind. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, but by some miracle he spots yellow, and with one last push, he throws himself in front of you, wheezing and leaning heavily on one hand against the wall to block your path. 

You’re staring at him in genuine concern. ‘What are you doing? Are you ok?’

Finding his voice, he opens with an apparent non-sequitur. ‘You do impulsive things when you’re mad. You know that, sweetheart?’

You brows knit in confusion. ‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

You humour him, arms crossed. He knows that you probably think he’s just drunk. ‘Ok. Like what?’

‘Like flying 6,000 miles to see me.’

‘I’m here to see Ana.’

Dieter shakes his head slowly, a smile unfolding as he begins to find his footing for the first time since you appeared out of thin air and turned his day upside down. ‘She sold me out, didn’t she? Constance too. I should’ve known they’d be on your side.’

You snort. ‘You’re talking crazy, Bravo.’

He crowds you against the wall, meeting no resistance as your back hits the stone, and he coaxes. ‘Admit it, sweetheart, and I’ll give you everything you came for. I just need to hear it from your pretty little mouth.’

You hold your tongue stubbornly, but he sees your pupils dilate and senses a shift in the crisp evening air.

He grins, finally establishing control over the situation, which sobers him up like nothing else. You’ve tortured him all day - it’s time he has some fun. 

Leaning down to your ear, he growls in a register that he knows will get you wet for him. ‘Tell me you came for me, sweetheart. And then maybe - I’ll make you cum for me.’

You just about lunge at him, but he holds you in place with hands around your upper arms, crowding you, drunk on the power now that the tables have turned. He wags a condescending finger at you, tapping the tip of your nose. ‘Uh-uh-uh. You heard me, sweetheart. C’mon, four little words. You can do it.’

That does it. You bare your teeth at him, panting as you struggle in his grasp. ‘You’re such an asshole.’

Dieter makes a buzzer noise. ‘That’s four words, but not the right ones.’

‘Over my dead body,’ you spit at him.

He tuts. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, no deal. Well, I guess I better go -’

He lets go of you and spins on his heels, but he doesn’t even get to take two steps when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist and haul him around with surprising force. 

He deliberately knocks into your body, hands landing on your waist and his weight holding you in place. You all but snarl at him, ‘Don’t you fucking dare walk out on me again.’

There she is, he thinks to himself, chest swelling with pride at the fire in your eyes.

He runs a finger down the side of your cheek, the gentle touch in direct conflict with the words that come out more affectionately than he intends. ‘You never make things easy, do you? You get off on making my life hell, hmm?’

Your eyes soften, but you still run your mouth brash. ‘You don’t like it easy, Bravo. You’d get bored.’

He chuckles, and leaning in to brush the tip of his nose along yours, he tries again. ‘Did you come all this way to see me, sweetheart?’

He isn’t gloating, or trying to trip you up.

You cup the side of his stubbled cheek, and you decide to let him in. ‘Of course I did, you fucking idiot -’

And then he’s kissing you.

Your hand is tightly wrapped in his as he leads you through a maze of alleyways, as if he’s worried that you would bolt. You won’t though - you’re done running. 

The strain in your calves begins to make its presence felt after several flights of stone steps, the long journey earlier today kicking in as the adrenaline fades. You yawn and Dieter notices, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

‘Almost there, sweetheart,’ he promises you, dragging you against his side with a hand on your hip, taking some of your weight. 

You watch from under drooping eyelids as he turns the key and opens the door to a two-storey house. A lone lamp glows in the corner of what appears like a comfortable sitting room, but you’re too tired to be curious to look around. 

Dieter steers you up cool tiled steps, having helped you out of your sandals. He all but pushes you up to the bedroom, hands firm on your waist so you can focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. 

The mattress is soft and welcoming as you flop down nose first, muffling your groan as you give in to the exhaustion that you’ve been putting off all day. He chuckles, rolling you onto one side of the bed. 

‘Let’s get this dress off, shall we, sweetheart?’

Even in your prone state, you attempt to put on a coy smile, pushing the straps off your shoulders. ‘You know you want to.’

He chuckles, turning you over to find the zip and pulling it down. He mock admonishes you, ‘Keep it in your pants, woman.’

Dieter feels almost bashful peeling your dress off, baring skin that he hasn’t touched for too long - he has to wait a little longer for that. You never sleep in your bra, so he unhooks that too, averting his gaze, and grabs a comfortable t-shirt from the dresser.

‘Arms up, sweetheart,’ he cajoles, and you comply despite grumbling sleepily. The t-shirt slips easily over your head. 

It’s a warm night, so he lets you stretch out above the duvet as he strips down to his boxers. He opens the window to let in a cool breeze to bring down the temperature in the room. It’s been baking in the sun all day. 

Dieter shuffles onto the mattress behind you, no hesitation when he tucks your body under the crook of his arm. He breathes you in, nose in your hair, a deep calm settling into his bones as he feels your steady breathing. He tightens his grip on you and lets sleep claim him. 

You’re not sure if it’s the church bells or the light streaming through the patio doors, but it’s a clean awakening, your eyes snapping wide open as you take in the bedroom you barely saw last night before passing out.

It’s strangely comforting to see he’s brought with him across the Atlantic the same mess that you became so used to. Inside-out t-shirts and shorts draped on chairs and flung carelessly onto random spots on the floor, where they’ve stayed. A glass of water half empty on his bedside table, his reading glasses and a couple of rings next to it. One slipper at the foot of the bed, the other nowhere to be seen.

You look down at the t-shirt you’re wearing. It’s one that you often borrowed from him for bed, and it makes you smile.

Following the smell of fresh coffee and bread, you pad quietly downstairs, admiring the rustic living space flooded in morning light, the open patio doors leading to a lush garden, letting in a soothing draft.

Dieter is perched on a bar stool at the counter in the open kitchen, already dressed for the day. He looks up from his phone when you approach, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he beams at you, and he breathes out something like relief when you slot into the V of his thighs without any trepidation.

‘What’s this? Dieter Bravo out of bed and dressed before,’ you pause and squint at the clock. ‘Ten in the morning?’

‘Not just that,’ he gestures at the breakfast spread on the table with a proud puff of his chest. ‘I provided.’

You smirk and rest your palms on the top of his thighs. ‘No Deliveroo around here, huh?’

‘It’s sink or swim, baby. Got pretty hairy for a while.’ He grabs a paper cup and pushes it into your hand. ‘Got you a cappuccino from my favourite barista. Try it.’

‘You have a favourite barista? Not just a favourite cafe?’

‘Of course. I have a favourite barista for cappuccino and another one for espresso.’

‘That might be the most obnoxious thing I’ve ever heard.’

He gives you a wink. ‘I’ve put down roots here, baby.’

‘Dieter Bravo has roots?’ you quip. ‘Do you even speak the language yet?’

He replies in an exaggerated Italian accent, complete with hand gestures. ‘A leetle beet, bella signorita.’

You laugh and take a sip of the cappuccino, sighing deeply at the rich, roasted flavour. ‘Thank you, this is delicious.’

Rough palms rest on the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest. His eyes are warm and open as he confides in you, ‘This job’s been really good for me.’

You run your fingers through his curls. ‘I know. I can tell.’

‘And Calgary’s been good for you too?’

You nod, and you hesitate for just a moment before you answer, ‘They’re going to offer me a contract for the second season.’

It’s not that you’re trying to catch him out, but you watch his reaction closely. You see nothing other than excitement before he presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. ‘That’s my girl.’

Suddenly quiet, you go still, and your change in demeanour doesn’t escape him. He pats you playfully on the bottom to get your attention. ‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’

It’s hard to meet his stare when you’re trying to find it within yourself to get the words out. You fixate on a small stain on his shirt instead, rubbing your finger over it.

He waits patiently, and to give you an out, replies lightly, ‘Couldn’t get the stain out. It’s ragu from my favourite place in town - I can take you there if you want.’

‘I’d like that,’ you smile gratefully.

But the thing is - you don’t want out. You want in. 

You take a deep breath and take the plunge. ‘Dieter - should I sign that contract?’

It’s the longest five seconds of silence, and it takes all of your self-control to not twist around in his grasp and run up the stairs. Finally, he leans in to kiss you deeply, and you’re glad he’s holding you up when your knees give.

He pulls back and runs his thumb over your cheekbone. ‘Can you hold out for another two weeks?’

You wish you didn’t answer so quickly, but you can’t help the breathless yes that slips out. Of course you fucking would.

Dieter holds your gaze. ‘Just so we’re clear - I want to be in the same place as you, sweetheart. Or at least close enough to commute to you. Is that ok?’

You nod, a stupid grin breaking across your features. ‘Yeah, that’s ok.’

‘Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,’ Dieter winks at you and grabs a paper bag from the kitchen counter. ‘You’ve got to try this.’

You peek inside and ask skeptically, ‘Is that… a doughnut?’

‘No, it’s a bombolone.’

‘Out of all the Italian things I haven’t tried, you picked the most American -’

He shoves the sugar-covered pastry into your mouth to shut you up, laughing as an indignant squeal catches in your throat. You bite into the pillowy doughnut, a thick smear of the chocolate filling spilling out and painting your lips, sugar crystals sticking to the mess.

Dieter wrinkles his nose jokingly. ‘You look so hot like this, sweetheart.’

Swiping at the chocolate from the corner of your mouth with your index finger, you push it between his lips. His eyes darken immediately as he sucks on it, the mood in the room swinging instantly into familiar territory.

Running your tongue across your lips, you put the rest of the doughnut in its bag and lick the sugar from your fingers. ‘I hope you haven’t had breakfast yet.’

His big hands dip underneath your shirt again to cup your bottom. He raises an eyebrow at you inquiringly. ‘Oh? Why not?’

Your back arcs and you rub your ass into his touch. ‘Because this pussy hasn’t been eaten in a very long time.’

His eyes snap shut at your words as if they physically pain him, impatient hands now sliding up your front to cup your bare breasts. ‘Fuck, baby. Is this the first thing you think about in the morning, you filthy girl?’

You kiss him sloppily, more tongue and teeth than anything, and Dieter pushes you away to hop off the stool, pulling off your shirt in the one smooth motion. He runs two fingers along the seam of your panties, smirking at the wet spot he finds. ‘Did no one else take care of this pussy while I was away?’

‘You know there’s no one else,’ you whine, letting him walk you into the living room, until the back of your knees hit the sofa.

‘Good,’ he growls into your ear, spinning you around and pushing you onto your knees into the cushions, hands on the spine of the sofa. Possessiveness clouds his mind as he runs his gaze over you every inch of you. ‘All mine.’

Slowly, he drags your panties down your legs, kissing the back of your thighs. You writhe under his touch, the scrape of his beard on your sensitive skin making you shudder. You moan, ‘Dieter. Please.’

Spreading you open, he tells you through clenched teeth, ‘I can see how wet you are, sweetheart. So pretty.’

‘Don’t tease,’ you beg, feeling your pussy flutter around nothing, your ass in the air as you grip the sofa tightly. ‘I need -’

You break off in a moan when Dieter closes his lips around your clit in a wet suckle, dragging the broad of his tongue through your core messily. His nails dig into the swell of your hips to hold you in place as you writhe, dipping into your pussy to taste you. Too long. It’s been too fucking long since he’s had you.

He traces his tongue along your contours patiently. He’s waited so many months, he can hold off the want to fucking devour you just a little bit longer. The tip of his tongue draws insistent circles on your clit, your hips undulating while you chase your pleasure. He feels a tremour run through your body before you bury your head into the sofa, muffling your cries. 

Oh no, that won’t do.

He brings his palm down in sharp clap on your pillowy cheek, making it jiggle. You gasp, head snapping up and around to glare at him. ‘What was that for?’

He shoots you a dirty grin, chin already shiny with you. ‘Wanna hear you scream, baby.’

You pin him with an audacious stare. ‘Make me, then, Bravo.’

As if he isn’t already rock hard, he has to bite down on his bottom lip to wrangle himself under control. He groans, ‘Can’t just go around saying shit like that, baby.’

You smirk, knowing exactly what it does to him, enjoying his desperate little whimper. You shift to widen your stance, knees sinking deeper into the sofa, teasing him, ‘What was that about the screaming again?’

For one second, you think you’ve pushed too far when Dieter draws clear from you completely. Before you can protest, there’s a scrape of wood on stone as he pushes away the coffee table clumsily. Leaning on the sofa, his long legs splayed in front of him, you can see the clear outline of his erection through his shorts. He lays the back of his head on the edge of the seat, meeting your panicked eyes when you look down at him between your legs.

You squeak. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

He grins, reaching up to nip your inner thigh with his teeth. ‘You want me to make you scream, right? Come sit on my face, baby.’

Holy fuck. You hear the metallic zing of a zipper being pulled down. Dieter’s eyes squeeze shut, his neck muscles pop, and you feel his hands move, out of sight. ‘I’m so fucking hard for you, baby. Please, ride my face while I stroke myself -’

‘Oh god,’ you grit out when you lower yourself onto his tongue, hips jerking when he grips one of your thighs almost painfully, grunting as you slide wetly on his tongue. Looking down, your lips part when you catch him watching you with a frown of quiet concentration as you grind down on him, too keyed up to find any sort of rhythm. It’s messy and crass, desperate above all else.

You know you’re drenched. Almost embarrassingly so. One of your hands drops to tangle in his hair, curls sticking to his forehead as his hairline beads with sweat.

‘Baby -’ You’re out of breath as you feel your orgasm building. ‘I’m close - oh god, Dieter -’

His fingers close around the plump flesh of your ass, and with a violent shudder, you’re thrown over the edge into a heaving, knee-shattering high, your slick and his spit dribbling down the inside of your thighs as you scrabble for air. Collapsing bonelessly onto the spine of the sofa, you feel Dieter wipe his saturated chin on your skin, leaving a cool trail, and you jump as if it burns you.

His whispers tickle the shell of your ear as he climbs onto the sofa behind you, cradling your smaller frame with his. ‘You came so hard, sweetheart. Such a good girl.’

You groan indulgently as he wraps himself around you. One hand finds your breast, and the other dips between your legs, a growl rattling in his chest when his fingers slip uselessly over your sodden pussy, unable to find any purchase.

‘All this cum for me,’ he hums, crooking two fingers to gather your slick before bringing them onto his cock, which nudges you just above your ass, stroking it languidly. ‘I missed you so much, baby.’

You nearly stumble over your words, too highly strung. ‘I missed you too. So fucking much.’

One hand turning your cheek, he claims your mouth possessively, sliding his tongue in to mark you with your own taste. Heat spreads across your skin as he caresses your lips sensually slow, his hand sliding down to hold your throat gently. He feels rather than hear your breath catch before you swallow thickly, the movement intimately pressed up against the tips of his fingers.

Sliding his cock through your wet folds, he pushes two fingers into your mouth to wet them. He fucking loves the feel of your tongue on him - anywhere on him. Mindful of how sensitive you are after you came, he runs the lightest path from your clit to your entrance, then up again.

‘Have you been touching yourself while I was gone?’ he asks gruffly.

‘Yes,’ you admit without putting up any resistance.

‘Stretch that tight pussy with your fingers?’

At your frantic nod, he retorts with a feral edge to his voice. ‘You pretend it was my cock instead?’

Gasping when you feel him notched at the mouth of your pussy, you cry out, ‘Yes!’

‘Well, you must have one hell of an imagination. How could these little fingers -’ he grabs you by the wrist and sucks on them, one by one, leaving them spit-soaked, before wrapping them around his throbbing cock. ‘- stretch you even a fraction of how my dick does?’

You flush at the filth tumbling out of his mouth, and you’ll be damned if you don’t give as good as you got. You smirk, ‘Why don’t you find out?’

‘Don’t have to ask me twice, baby,’ he grins into your shoulder, and one thick finger slides into you.

You feel his smile falter and his teeth dig into your skin instead. He groans into your ear, ‘Sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but you’ve been doing a pathetic job.’

You squeeze your hand around his cock and he lurches against you, grabbing you in a silent warning. You blink sweetly at him. ‘Stop gloating and do something about it then.’

Your smile falters when he pulls out of you, only to reenter with two fingers, and your chin drops to your chest at the fullness as he fills you. His ribcage vibrates with a satisfied hum against your back, sweat building up where your bodies meet.

‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he says, mouthing sweet kisses down your spine. ‘You’re doing so well for me. Good girl.’

Taking a deep breath, you do, and he eases in even further, eliciting a sharp gasp when he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. He works into you at a steady pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes knuckle deep, until you start to pant, your hips twisting in pursuit when he draws out of your wet heat.

‘Harder,’ you demand, and he tightens the arm wrapped around your waist, pumping in earnest, teeth bared as he draws increasingly loud squelches from your cunt. He hisses when he feels you begin to clench around him, whimpering, ‘Fuck - fuck I’m gonna come again -’

Dieter wraps his whole body around you as you thrash in his arms, desperate sobs racking your frame as he rambles in your ear. ‘That’s it, let go, baby - this beautiful pussy’s getting my fingers so wet - gonna make you feel even better with my cock -’

Suddenly, the room spins and you’re lying on your back, Dieter’s weight pinning you to the soft cushions. You arch up lazily to kiss him, enjoying the heft of him on your body.

‘You ok?’ he asks almost sheepishly, nuzzling your neck. ‘Too much?’

You don’t skip a beat when you retort with a flippant shrug. ‘Honestly? Not enough cock.’

You grin at his splutter to your response. With a low growl, he grinds the underside of his erection against your folds. ‘That fucking mouth is gonna get you into trouble some day.’

You reply cheekily, ‘Sometime this morning would be preferable.’

Dieter reaches down to wrap your legs around his waist, lips on yours. ‘I haven’t slept with anyone else, but I can wear a condom if you want me to.’

You shake your head adamantly. ‘I want to feel all of you.’

Pushing your legs open wide, Dieter positions himself over you, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

‘Look at me, sweetheart,’ he whispers, and pushes in.

Your noses knock together as he bites out a harsh fuck, rocking into you inch by inch with patient strokes.

‘So big,’ you moan, burying your nose in his shoulder. You feel his arms tremble as he holds himself over you. ‘You feel so good inside me.’

He grunts as he bottoms out, taking a second for you to adjust around him. ‘Are you still on birth control? ‘Cause there’s a very real possibility I’ll blow my load any fucking second -’

You take him by surprise when you bring a palm down onto his ass cheek in a sound slap. ‘Don’t you dare, Dieter Bravo.’

He grits his teeth at the sting that lingers on his skin and goes straight to his cock. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

He doubles down and fucks you hard, dipping his head to draw wet circles around your nipples with his tongue before biting down on the underside of your breasts, making your back arch, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper. You can only take him, hands around his neck, your lips clashing together in a wet tangle of tongue and teeth. You moan when he slides his hands under your ass, lifting your hips to change the angle. He plants his knees and thrusts into you feverishly, making your tits bounce to the rhythm.

Looking up at him, backlit by the soft morning light, you scrape your nails on his scalp, pulling at his curls until his eyes shut with a groan. His beard is scratchy on your fingertips when they draw a line down his strong jaw. You watch the endearing lines on his face crease as he watches you back, a small smile breaking through the intensity for just a moment before it gets too much again.

His knuckles on your hips turn white and the vein in his neck throbs. ‘I can’t hold on. Where do you my cum, sweetheart?’

‘Inside me, please,’ you plead, wrapping your legs tightly around his hips as he ruts recklessly into you.

His last thrusts shove you up the length of the sofa, and you watch as Dieter throws his head back when he comes. His hips crush against yours as he chokes on broken moans, spilling into you. But instead of winding down, he keeps pumping into you even when you feel his cum leak - hot and sticky - out of your cunt.

You look up at him, confused. ‘What - what are you doing?’

‘I’m still hard,’ he pants, eyes screwing shut from overstimulation, his body wound up painfully tight. ‘Oh god, fuck, I think I’m gonna cum again, baby -’

‘My tits - cum on my tits,’ you demand hurriedly.

He pulls out of you, and you feel his spend dribble and pool onto the sofa below. Cock in hand, Dieter clambers upwards, knees on either side of your hips as he strokes himself frantically, his tanned skin flushed with a sheen of sweat.

‘Ready, baby?’ he pants as he braces above you.

You nod and push your tits together, the visual sending him over the edge. He cries out your name, and you watch with your lips wantonly open as lewd, white lashes spurt over your nipples, the swell of your breasts, dripping into the valley of your cleavage.

With one last, strangled whine, Dieter collapses half onto you and half onto the couch, and you beam proudly at how absolutely wrecked he looks. You did that. You stretch languorously, and his gaze follows intently as beads of cum drip from your breasts and down your sides in thick streaks.

‘Look at you and your multiple orgasms,’ you tease, shuffling closer to peck him on the lips.

He grunts. ‘Didn’t wanna get upstaged by you, sweetheart.’

You shiver when he brushes a finger through the mess he made on your tits with a deep groan of satisfaction before pushing himself up with great effort, and settling himself between your thighs. Pinching your folds together gently, he groans as a pearly bead of his cum oozes out of you, feral eyes meeting yours. ‘I love seeing my cum all over you and inside you, baby.’

Glancing down at the wet patches on the cream-coloured sofa, you quip, ‘I don’t think you’re gonna get your rental deposit back, though.’

Sidling up to you, he kisses you and grins. ‘Totally worth it.’

The next time you wake up, it’s definitely the church bells ringing for the evening service that rouse you.

‘C’mon sweetheart, it’s dinner time.’

You turn to Dieter’s voice and pout sleepily. ‘What?’

‘You passed out after we took a shower, and I didn’t want to wake you for lunch,’ he recounts the missing hours to you. ‘Ana brought your suitcase around, by the way.’

You swing your legs off the side of the bed and stretch with a yawn. ‘She’s the best. We need to buy her dinner or something. Constance too.’

Dieter pulls you onto your feet to nuzzle the side of your neck. ‘Nope, sorry - you’re mine this weekend. Especially since you’ve already spent about half of it passed out cold.’

You roll your eyes and wriggle out of his grasp to unzip your suitcase, bending over to rummage through it for something to wear. ‘Hardly my fault that I find jetlag more compelling than your company, Bravo.’

He grins when you yelp at the smack that lands on your ass. ‘Hurry up, sweetheart. I’ll take you around the neighbourhood, and we can get pizza from my favourite place for dinner.’ 

Your stomach answers for you with a comically loud rumble. ‘Yes please, I’m starving.’

The streets look different in the dying daylight. You bask in the twilight sunshine, senses in overdrive as you take in the surroundings.

Dieter lets you drag him into a gelato shop to get a refreshing frutti di bosco in a cone, which you both take turns licking and biting into as you stroll through the neighbourhood. Then he ducks into a tiny deli to get some burrata and prosciutto in case you get midnight munchies later. As you get closer to town, the crowds start to thicken, and Dieter feels you shrink into yourself.

Brushing a kiss to your temple, he reassures you, ‘There’s no paparazzi here, sweetheart. I’ve been here for three months and no one has recognised me even once.’

Your shoulders relax. ‘And your fragile Hollywood ego lived to tell the tale?’

He pulls a squeal from you when he dives in for the last bite of the cone without warning, sucking melted purple gelato off your hand.

The pizzeria is tucked away on a side street, tiny tables and stools lining either side of the entrance, and there is no sign above the door. Stepping inside the dark interior, it’s piping hot with three men behind the counter, rolling out dough and cooking pizza in a wood fire oven, trading rapid-fire Italian.

A man with grey hair and an impressive handlebar moustache exclaims when his eyes land on the two of you, stepping from behind the counter. ‘Dieter! Amico mio, vieni qui!’ || ‘Dieter! My friend, come here!’

They embrace like life-long friends, the older man babbling Italian at him while he babbles back in English. You’re absolutely certain neither of them knows what the other is going on about.

Dieter gestures at you. ‘Lorenzo, I want you to meet my girl.’

He makes a delighted noise and kisses you flamboyantly on both cheeks. ‘Questa è tua moglie, vero? Buonasera, signora Bravo! Che bella coppia!’ || ‘This is your wife, yes? Good evening, Mrs. Bravo! What a beautiful couple!’

Dieter winds an arm around your waist and tells you proudly, ‘This place makes the best pizza in town, and they don’t even have a name! I found it one night when I was drunk off my ass. The best margherita I’ve ever had. Am I right, Lorenzo?’

The Italian smacks his lips in a chef’s kiss as if in agreement. ‘Voi avrete i bambini bellissimi! Te lo giuro!’ || ‘You two would have the most beautiful babies! I swear!’

‘Lorenzo says it’s something about the flour they use in the dough. Or was it the yeast?’

A wistfulness creeps into the Italian’s tone, and he suddenly leans forward to grip your chin between his thumb and index finger. You suspect he’s not exactly on the same topic of yeast. ‘L'amore è bello. Voi mi ricordate me e mia moglie defunta, pace all’anima sua!’ || ‘Love is beautiful. You remind me of my deceased wife and I, God rest her soul!’

Dieter claps his hands together to wrap up the unilateral, bilingual conversation. ‘Anyway - can we order the margherita and artichoke? Takeaway, please.’

Lorenzo lets your chin go and presses a kiss to his hand, then dispatches it heavenwards. ‘In onore della mia amata moglie, Maria, Includo gratuitamente un regalo speciale! I miei colombini preferiti!!’ || ‘In honour of my beloved Maria, I will include a special treat for free! My favourite lovebirds!’

Dieter pays for the order and a couple of limonata from the fridge, and you retreat outside to wait for your dinner. Sitting down on a low stone wall opposite the shop, you take a sip of the fizzy lemonade and remark, ‘Now, that’s what I call a character.’

He beams and laces his fingers through yours. ‘Isn’t he great? I want to move here someday.’

Your eyebrows reach for your hairline. ‘Really? Dieter Bravo living la dolce vita? Leaving behind the lights and vices of Hollywood?’

Before he can answer you, a piercing screech sends your heads spinning around to see Ana running down the street towards you, shouting and waving, ‘Hey, lovers!’

You laugh as she smothers you in a hug while simultaneously fiddling with her phone. ‘Oh my god, you guys are fucking adorable. One second, one second -’

You shriek when she brings up her phone to show you who’s on the screen. ‘Oh my god, Pete! We miss you!’

He waves at you through Facetime. ‘Babe, I cannot believe I’m not there to witness this first hand. It’s not fair! Let me see you two together!’

Ana grabs the phone and angles it so you and Dieter are both in the shot, and sing-songs, ‘Kiss cam, lovebirds!’

You roll your eyes. ‘Ana, we’re not just going to -’

You’re cut short when Dieter ambushes you with a full-mouthed kiss, and you hear both Pete and Ana squealing excitedly.

‘What are you doing? These two don’t need any more encouragement!’ you chide halfheartedly when he finally draws back, releasing your lips with a wet pop.

Dieter points at Pete through the screen then at Ana. ‘We’re keeping it under the radar for now, okay? No leaks to the papers or any of that shit.’

Ana nods solemnly. ‘Lips are sealed.’

‘I’m totally not screen recording this right now.’

You narrow your eyes at the phone. ‘Pete - ’

‘I’m joking, I swear!’ he protests. ‘Totally not crossing my fingers behind my back.’

Lorenzo appears with three pizza boxes even though you’re sure Dieter only ordered two, and he shepherds you on your way while speaking Italian, presumably saying something to the effect of eat it while it’s hot.

Ana waves, heading in the opposite direction. ‘I’d invite you for drinks with Constance and I later, but I doubt Dieter would let you out of your sight for even a second.’ 

‘She’s staying in my bed till Monday morning. Naked.’

‘Dieter!’ you admonish.

Ana laughs and winks at you as he impatiently drags you away. ‘Have fun, lovebirds. I’ll see you back stateside!’

And Pete gets the last laugh. ‘Don’t you forget - I called best man!’

A spiral staircase winds up to the rooftop you didn’t know existed, and you gape at the view from the top. The sea laps in the distance, blue and orange, waves rippling as if in slow motion. The rest of the town sitting on lower ground is laid out below your feet like a chaotic streetmap, the dinner-time ruckus a muted buzz in the distance. 

The terracotta tiles are sunwarm beneath your bare soles as you set the rustic dinner table under the canopy. Dieter appears at the doorway with a bottle of wine and two wine glasses.

‘I forgot the water. Do you want some?’ he asks.

You step around him and peck him on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get it.’

You hum to yourself as you traipse your way back upstairs with a jug of water and two glasses full of ice from the kitchen. Dieter lines up the three takeaway boxes side by side, and rubs his hands in anticipation for the big reveal. ‘Alright, ready for the best pizza of your life, sweetheart?’

‘Go on, then,’ you grin.

He’s barely cracked open the first box a sliver - you catch a glimpse of a perfectly baked crust - before he snaps it shut with a panicked, ‘What the fuck?’

You frown. ‘What’s wrong?’

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the other hand on his hip. ‘Lorenzo - he pulled a prank on us.’

You reach for the box to see for yourself, but he snatches you by the wrist. You sigh, ‘C’mon, Dieter, I don’t care as long as I can still eat the pizza without getting food poisoning. I’m actually going to faint from hunger.’

He lets you go cautiously, holding his hands up soothingly like he’s trying to talk you off a ledge. ‘Just - promise me you won’t freak out, okay?’

You cross your arms. ‘You’re actually scaring me now.’

‘It’s not a declaration or anything. I didn’t ask them to do it.’

You’re about this close to stamping your foot like a child, but you take a deep breath and reply, ‘Dieter, seriously. I promise I won’t freak out, just -’

You trail off when he opens the box and you stare down at the contents.

It’s a heart-shaped pizza.

Any and all apprehension bleeds out of you as your shoulders quake with laughter. You open the other two boxes, which are identical in shape, with different toppings. Turning to Dieter, you pull him in by the scruff of his shirt to plant a kiss on his lips. ‘I love it.’

The relief is clear in his features. ‘Really? You’re not gonna flip and run off in the middle of the night?’

‘Unless there’s a diamond ring baked into the cheese - no, I won’t,’ you give him your word.

Dieter winks and kisses the centre of your palm. ‘Oh, you should be so lucky, sweetheart.’

Making yourself comfortable on the cushioned bench, you pat the space next to you. Reaching out for a slice of what smells like the best margherita you’re about to have, you sniff, ‘Be quiet and eat your pizza, Bravo.’

Pouring red wine into your glass, Dieter rambles on conversationally, ‘So… since you like heart-shaped pizza, does that mean I can get you heart-shaped cookies? Heart-shaped donuts? Heart-shaped marshmallows -’

Using his own trick on him, you shove the slice that was destined for your plate into his mouth instead to shush him. He spills wine everywhere in his haste to put the bottle down, and you laugh as he sputters. 

His mouth full, he shakes a finger at you as he chews and swallows. ‘I’ll get back at you for that, just you wait.’

You smile sweetly and grab another slice. ‘I’d like to see you try, Bravo.’

Pulling you flush against him, he looks down at you playfully, but his eyes are soft. ‘I will always try, sweetheart.’

And you know he will.

Rebecca is enjoying a rare evening alone. Coco is over at a friend’s pool party and won’t be home until after dinner, and Hank is still at the office. She flops heavily onto the outrageously expensive sofa she so rarely gets to enjoy, kicking off her high heels, when her phone buzzes. She arches an eyebrow when she sees the name on the screen.

‘Hello, darling. Long time no speak.’

‘Hey Becks. Listen, do you have any TV roles for me?’

‘Not even a hello, how are you, dear agent?’

She shakes her head fondly as he parrots back word by word, ‘Hello, how are you, dear agent?’

‘TV, you say?’

‘Something that will stick for at least a couple of seasons, in LA. And make sure it’s something edgy.’

‘By edgy, do you mean something that might have an intimacy coordinator role that needs filling?

‘Yes.’

‘And does that mean you want me to take your name out of the hat for the next Spielberg movie?’

There is no trace of doubt in his reply. ‘Yes.’

‘Alright then. I’ll have a scout around and send you some options in the next few days.’

‘Thanks, Becks.’

She smiles into the phone. ‘I’m happy for you, darling. Send her my love, please, and we’ll have you both around for dinner soon.’

‘Yes, ma’am. Will do.’

Two weeks later, a package arrives at your flat in Calgary, and you hand in your one-month notice the next day.

A covering letter to the contract directs you to an address in Sherman Oaks to drop off the documents in person the next weekend. You’re not aware of any studio offices in that particular part of town, but you need to go back Stateside to sort out something at your bank anyway, so it’s not particularly out of the way.

You slow your car down to the crawl when your phone announces that you’ve reached your destination. It’s clearly a residential area, and you double check the address - you’re definitely at the right place. Maybe it’s the HR director’s home address. You’ve been to far stranger places in your career, so you shake it off and walk up to the modern, white-washed house that sits on two floors, with a minimalist garden in the front.

You glance about at the tidy hedges after you press the doorbell, and you hear footsteps approach at a leisurely pace. You put on a professional smile in anticipation.

The door opens, and your jaw drops.

‘Hello, sweetheart.’

Before you can make heads or tails of the situation, the envelope in your hand slips out of your grasp and you launch yourself at him. Dieter staggers backwards with a laugh, his hands full of you and his lips on yours. It’s been three weeks since you said your goodbyes at the airport in Italy, with promises to see each other when filming wraps for the both of you in another month or so.

You can’t resist slapping him on the chest in rebuke for showing up unannounced. ‘What are you doing here?’

He shrugs nonchalantly. ‘Thought you’d appreciate a house tour now that you’ve signed up to the project.’

You look around, taking in the dark wooden floors and high ceilings painted white as he scoops up your abandoned papers and closes the front door. ‘What house tour?’

‘I told the studio you’ll be living with me. It’s the only reason they hired you, by the way, because we’ll be saving them accommodation costs.’

You know he’s trying to get a rise out of you, so you don’t give him the satisfaction of a quick-tempered answer. Instead, you cock your head to one side, and purse your lips. ‘How did you know I want to live with you?’

His answer is unexpectedly forthright, and it hits you right in the stomach. ‘I don’t, but I hoped you would. I want to live with you.’

Rocking onto your tippy toes, you reach for him, but before your lips meet, he stops you, brandishing a piece of paper in your nose. ‘One minute, sweetheart. Since we’re now both employees of this show, we should really sign this Relationship Consent Form for HR before we do anything else.’

You blink and take a mental step back, suddenly alert. His smile is perfectly benevolent, which is suspicious in itself. He’s trying to pull something, you just know it.

But you go along with it. ‘Sounds like the responsible thing to do. You got a pen?’

Right on cue, Dieter pulls out a fancy-looking fountain pen and his glasses from his shirt pocket. ‘Voila. This way, sweetheart, we’ll do this in the kitchen.’ 

The foyer opens up into a large and modern kitchen space, with a marble counter separating it from the dining room. You like it - it’s not as coldly sleek as the apartment you shared while filming on Resurgence. It looks homey and lived-in despite knowing for a fact that the most Dieter’s ever used it for is pouring milk into a bowl of cereal.

He pulls out a chair for you at the dining table, even pushing your seat in before settling opposite you. You keep a watchful eye on him at this show of gallantry. Pointedly ignoring you, he smooths a hand over the consent form sitting in front of him, uncapping his fountain pen dramatically and putting on his reading glasses.

With a clap of his hands, he announces. ‘Ok, here we go. Fill in the name of Party A.’ He spells out yours letter by letter as he scribbles. ‘And Party B: Dieter Bravo.’

From where you’re sitting, his handwriting is barely legible and absolutely not contained to the pre-drawn lines.

‘I can do the writing, if you want,’ you offer, eye twitching at the mess.

Dieter smiles at you. ‘I got it, sweetheart, thanks.’ Clearing his throat, he reads the first question out loud. ‘Are Party A and Party B engaged or intend to engage in sexual intercourse?’

He looks up at you, as if expecting an answer. You frown. ‘What?’

‘You have to say the answers out loud.’

‘What?’

He taps somewhere on the piece of paper. ‘To consent, you have to say the answers out loud. Says right here.’

You sigh heavily and reply, ‘Yes.’

Dieter scrawls the answer with a flourish, and moves on to the next question. ‘Is the frequency or intended frequency of said intercourse between Party A and Party B expected to be equal to or exceed once a week?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are Party A and Party B engaged in or intend to engage in an exclusive sexual relationship?’

Your answer comes out sharper than you intend as your patience wears thin. ‘I fucking hope so.’

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t look up. ‘That’s a yes, then. Are Party A and Party B engaged in or intend to engage in an exclusive romantic relationship?’

You cross your arms suspiciously. ‘An exclusive romantic relationship? That’s an actual question in the form?’

He points somewhere in the middle of the page. ‘Yes, it says right here.’

‘I’m sorry, why does the studio need to know that?’

He sighs. ‘Sweetheart, it’s a simple question - yes or no?’

You shift in your seat, feeling vulnerable, but you answer in the affirmative. ‘Well, I mean, if I’m going to be living with you - yes.’

The smile he gives you nearly reaches his ears, and you smile back, before he looks down at the form and continues, ‘Now, this is an interesting one. Is Party B’s genitalia the most substantial Party A has ever had in terms of length and girth?’

Not even Dieter can keep a straight face.

You growl, reaching across the table to rip the piece of paper from his hands while he howls with laughter, reading glasses coming off. ‘Ugh, Dieter Bravo! You’re so fucking juvenile!’

He’s literally wiping tears from his eyes. ‘You should’ve seen your face, sweetheart. You were taking it so seriously.’

You run a critical eye over the form. It was obviously done in Word and printed out at home since the margins are all off. ‘You used Comic Sans? Comic Sans? You might as well have written this in purple crayon!’

‘Hey! Don’t judge a consent form by its font, sweetheart.’ He rounds the table and grabs it from you, pinning it onto the kitchen counter with his pen. 

‘I forgot one last question, it’s an important one,’ he says, and you squeak when he lifts you up onto the cold marble surface of the kitchen counter by the back of your thighs. Close enough to bump noses, his breath hot on your lips, he asks, ‘Does Party A consent to being thoroughly railed on this kitchen counter by Party B right about now?’

Grabbing the pen sitting next to you, you scribble carelessly over the sheet, before tossing it somewhere behind you without looking. It floats languidly, landing feather-light on the kitchen floor, soon joined by hastily half-unbuttoned, half-unzipped clothing and underwear. 

Your answer to Dieter’s question - all his questions - is scrawled across the page in a clear, emphatic hand.

Fuck yeah.

[ the end ]

Very long note: This wasn't the easiest chapter to write, but then, I guess finales never are easy! Having said that, I already knew what the last scene was going to be when I decided to make this a series, and it was surreal to finally see it typed out in black and white.

I also made sure the supporting cast - Pete, Ana and Rebecca - each made a cameo in this last part. They've been so important to the plot, and your reaction to these OCs makes me so warm and fuzzy inside. I'm very happy with the way this chapter turned out eventually - I hope you are too!

I've left things fairly open in this finale. I don't feel like Dieter and Reader have to make any grand declarations to each other, or to put a label on anything, for this stage of their story to be complete. This also gives me the space to explore their relationship in further instalments. While I don't see another full-fledged series in this universe, there will definitely be drabbles and one-shots in the future.

Before I lose my shit and start crying up a storm, I need to give credit to these lovely people who helped me with this chapter.

❤️ First, I want to thank Cristina @pedropascalsx for making the gif set for the last ever sneak peek. It really set the tone for the finale, and I will cherish it forever.

❤️ Second, thank you Kat @katareyoudrilling for helping me with the Italian translations. Your notes were so detailed, I loved learning about the language from your explanations.

❤️ Third, the heart-shaped pizza idea came from a reblog @hquinzelle left for a previous chapter, and it's been stuck in my head since! Thank you for letting me use this idea for this chapter.

Lastly, thank you to every single one of you who have interacted with this fic in any way. I have been blown away by your love and support every step of the way. Thank you for taking a chance on this story, which started off as a horny one-shot (and my first time ever writing smut), and ended up a short series that I'm so proud to have written for this beautiful mess of a man and - most importantly - for all of you❤️

Ok I'm going to go bawl my eyes out now.

#dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfic #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo self insert #cliff beasts 6 #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x f!reader

[atombonniebaby]

Woo I actually have a WIP for WIP Wednesday and some art! 🙌

(I don't have the spoons to tag... mutual creatives... do your thing! ❤)

I got caught up playing again...but finally getting some more words out and this whole chapter was one I was dreading because I didn't know how I wanted it to pan out... I'm happy with it... it's just pure carnage and nothing going to plan!

Inspired by that one time we went to the Glowing sea and got our asses handed to us by 12 ferals, 7 Radscorpians and a Deathclaw...

I imagine this is Nate's battle track 🙌

"Fuck!" Nate's heart jumps into his throat, the familiar feeling of his stomach plummeting as the ground crumbles beneath them. The earth spins below him, tilting this way and that. His knees buckle and catches the horror in Danse's eyes, the glint of steel armour as he lands on his ass, the impact jarring his spine and rattling his bones.

In their distraction they missed the signs, the click of claws digging into the dirt, the shift in the shadows. They'd been so focused on the threat in front of them that they didn't notice the ones below.

A rad scorpion rears up, it's tail raised high and poised to strike, it's segmented body suspended over the hole with its legs braced on either side.

The stinger whips forward, the barbed tip piercing straight through the soft spot between the chest piece and pelvis plate. Nate holds his gasp, beaded eyes meet his, clicking mandibles and long protruding jaws.

Time slows. There's no pain, there's no sting. The poison has already started working, numbing his body and muddling his mind.

The sounds of laser fire and shouting are drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears, by the throbbing of his heart, by his own panicked gasping.

Two more scorpions join the fold, together, Danse and MacCready fight them back. But they won't see. The forth scorpion. It's crawling over him. It's right above him. Tail... Stinger... Pointed right between his eyes.

No! NO!

The tip punctures through the glass shielding him from the toxic air. Cracks spider web out from the point of impact. A second strike lands, and then a third.

Nate panics. He can't breathe, gasping in lungfuls of irradiated air as Amari's words pulse in his ears: "...enough radiation to kill a man in seconds".

#just gotta write the stuff in-between now so I can actually post more 😅 #Scottish Sole Survivor #You should see the other guy 😅 #fallout 4 #fallout maccready #fallout #fo4 #maccready #fo4 maccready #fallout companions #robert joseph maccready #rj maccready #robert maccready #fallout danse #paladin danse #fo4 danse #fallout art #fallout oc #fallout fanart #fallout original character #fallout fanfic #fallout fandom #fallout wip #Spotify

[maryisthevirgin]

both fic recs you shared were amazing! do you have any other recs for lucemond or jacegan? i have read most jacegan but lucemond is where i get lost sometimes

ok, ok here are some of the most recent ones i've read, maybe they're for you too.

(read the tags)

sometimes a man chooses mercy by artemis_red - lucerys survived and is now the heir to the throne his uncle sits on. he is captured, they meet again, and his uncle is different from the boy he remembers. bloodthirsty and violent and cruel in new ways, but merciful in others.

(i really admire the way the author writes and characterises aemond and luke and all the interactions between them. extra points for the final scene...)

flower that saw summer by garmr - civil war is set into motion, and aemond abandons his post to abduct his nephew. his obsession easily masquerades as affection, for a time, until the facade comes down.

lucerys never recovers.

(i can't prepare you for it... i love love love love love love love x1 000 000 this story - how the author writes aemond's obsession is *unique* he is sadistic, cruel, hypocritical and horrible.)

strange angels by marmiel - lucerys waters is orphaned at a young age and sent to live at the king's opera house, a renowned theater where rumors are plentiful. a concerned voice calls to lucerys only at night and begins to teach him about music, becoming a bit too possessive of the boy. as lucerys matures, he learns more of the lies that surround his origins, and his "guardian angel" reaches a point of obsession too deep for either of them to return from.

(i didn't want to put wips here, but this author has such a natural talent for writing lucemond. claimed by the sea is a modern au inspired by cmbyn and it's one of my favorites. take a look)

hamartia by hypothesistest - aemond's life is defined by faith, self-denial, and more shame than he would like to admit. when lucerys visits king's landing for the first time in seven years, aemond discovers the force of full desire. all aemond's resolve melts away under the summer sun, leaving only lust and some questionable decisions.

(aemond struggling with religious guilt is always a pleasure to read, esp when the author develops it in such a beautiful and harrowing way.)

hamrammr by garmr - jacaerys has lost his ancestral seat. on his path in exile, he encounters a group of berserkers, led by a man they call cregan. In his company, jacaerys learns the thrill of the hunt, the blood rituals of a bygone age, and that only revenge can truly sate a man.

(OBSESSED with this story. so elegant writing, delightful slow burn, incredible characterization. the sexual tension between jace and cregan.... dying. also, i'm learning a lot about norse culture. everything about hamrammr is fascinating)

Just for Me by beatwice - aemond inspects luke's suitability as a marriage prospect

(visited 28 times. that's all.)

forever by your side, is this fate (or is this fear) & fourteen flames also deserve to be mentioned.

and of COURSE works by my favorite anon <3

lucerys is the virgin mary

lucerys is the MOTHER mary

aemond targaryen mentally suffers

aemond cries over lucerys being on the wrong side of the bed

you can always send me another ask with the specific tropes you like :)

#lucemond #aemond x lucerys #fanfic rec #aemond targaryen #lucerys velaryon #jacegan #jace x cregan #jacaerys velaryon #cregan stark

[the-aranea-chronicles]

⥉ Welcome to my blog! ⥉

⥉ About the Author ⥉

Update as of 7/4/24: I'll be lurking on tumblr every once in a while, but otherwise I don't know when I'll be properly active. Easter went... well, a spiked cement ball to the face would've been far more preferable.

Call me Aranea or Ara, a 22 yr old Aussie gal who is ever so slowly working on her novels. Not picky on what pronouns you use for me. I've been writing since I was 14, and been on and off tumblr just as long.

Have a part time job, volunteer at Vinnies, and working on a cert IV. Also practice witchcraft.

Current interests: Dragon Age, Dragons Dogma, Mass Effect, Skulduggery Pleasant, and Vampyr. I also play the Sims 4, so might even post some of my characters that way.

Favourite genres: Fantasy, horror, paranormal, science fiction, and historical.

Other platforms: AO3

Personal tag: #ara rambles

⥉ About This Blog ⥉

Open to asks about my OCs, world lore, or just wanting to drop in and have a chat!

Mainly using this blog to share lore, snippets of my novels, things that amuse me and worldbuilding.

Current Novel WIPs:

Monstrum (Which, yes, is loosely based on my fanfic under the same name) A God who never wanted to be a God, sea elves, sapphic dwarven Goddess, polyamory is pretty much the norm, cursed tome that exploded a temple, MC works out he's a transman... What more could you want? Oh wait, there's one more thing: son of God who died multiple times and came back wrong each time, is currently possessing MC's meant-to-be-dead mother! Oops.

Quondam

Takes place centuries before Monstrum, when The Maker was only a sorcerer who wanted a better world... and now deals with the consequences of taking over as Sovereign of the World. Surely she can change her world without destroying it?

[Un-named]

Crash landing on a unknown planet, memories wiped... The A.I. with corrupted data, known as Thio, calls them Viator, but is that their name? Or a title? The only thing Viator knows is that they were thrown into a black hole... and now have a ship to fix, and to find civilisation.

⥉ DNI ⥉

Pro-contact paras, anti-lgbtq, anti-otherkin/therian

My OC tags:

Monstrum: #laianna/aurélien | #opal | #vesper | #adara | #amara | #hermia | #aranea | #ghilain (pronounced gee-layn)

Link to dividers

#writblr #writblr community #writblr intro #writing community #writing #writer community #writers on tumblr #female writers #monstrum

[being-luminous]

Would like to know more about Spiritfarer AU for the WIP game

This is an AU inspired by my newest love, the game of the same name. In this fic, Harry is a psychopomp, guiding the souls of the dead to the afterlife. Voldemort is one such soul, and he isn't going to go easily.

Here's a snippet of their first meeting:

In the deepest part of the ship’s hold, accessible only through a near invisible trapdoor in the orlop, there is a shadow.

It takes Harry nearly three weeks to find the door, and once he’s found it, it’s another two day’s work to pry it open. The wood is warped by time and damp sea air, and the hinges are so rusted it’s a surprise they work at all. Finally, with an ominous creak and a thud, it falls open against the deck.

Harry peers into the dark, listening for any signs of life.

Dumbledore didn’t warn him of any danger on the ship before he passed it on, but he didn’t mention the trapdoor, either. There could be anything down there. Or nothing. He should go down and check it out just to make sure. If anything bad happens to his passengers because of a threat he could have prevented, he'll never forgive himself.

Mind made up, Harry leaps into the dark, landing lightly on his feet.

The Everlight’s glow fills the cramped space, bathing it in gold. There isn’t much down here: some crates he’ll investigate later, some netting. Nothing interesting. Nothing dangerous. Except, there, tucked against the hull—a spot of darkness that doesn’t give way to the light.

Brow furrowed, Harry lifts the Everlight higher, wills it brighter.

Still, the shadow remains. Even worse, it hisses, edges rippling and tearing as it bunches up into familiar shapes. Four limbs, the curve of a spine, a face that turns slowly toward him, red eyes narrowed against the light.

It’s a person, Harry realizes with growing horror. But not like any person he’s seen before.

He steps closer, and the shadow-person hisses again, even louder. They loom taller, so tall they have to hunch over so they don't hit their head. They sound angry. They look scared. "Sorry," Harry says quickly. He covers the Everlight with one hand, hopes it's easier on their eyes this way. "My name's Harry." He sticks out his other hand, waits for them to take it. "I didn't know you were down here, or I would have come to fetch you sooner."

#psychopomp harry is so dear to me #i haven't written many fics of the kind but i love it so much #sometimes you just gotta write about death #and you gotta make it cozy #eventual harrymort #snippets #ask #thank you for asking <3

[compacflt]

Hello, me again back with another question about the US Navy that I can't find an answer to online so I'm turning to the only source I can think of that may help. And yet again I know you say your knowledge of the US military isn't as deep as it seems but it's better than mine considering I'm not from the US, I just wanted to know how officers get off aircraft carriers? It seems like a very basic question but I'm just wondering about if in Top Gun Maverick the carrier they were on was in port and they took it to wherever the Dagger mission takes place, or they got taken to the ship if it was already at sea? If so, how would they get there? If there was an emergency, say a family member was dying, they were in the middle of the ocean and got emergency leave approved, how would they get to land? Would the ship have to port at the nearest US Naval Base? Or would you have to land on the carrier somehow? This has been on my mind for a while so any help would be greatly appreciated, your blog really adds a realistic layer to Top Gun that is refreshing

navy logistics is some of the most interesting stuff in the world. especially World War II navy logistics (the infamous ice cream barge!!!). But even today how equipment & rations & personnel (and MAIL!!!) make it on/off boats is SO fascinating & takes ungodly amounts of coordination. take a look at this video posted by the uss gerald ford (CVN 78) a couple days ago.

those are sh-60s (Sea hawks—navy black hawk variant) dropping palletized goods from a cargo ship onto the flight deck of the carrier. Including sailors’ mail, overseas goods, food etc. just awesome stuff.

in terms of officers getting on/off ships, yeah you could do it a few ways. Number one would be when the boat makes a port call. Fun fact, It used to be a huge time-honored tradition for crews to make “cruise jackets” with the names of every place your ship/carrier had stopped. not too sure if it’s still done but it was a big thing after wwii. both mav and ice would probably have them.

port calls would be when crewmen and officers especially could leave the boat & party it up on dry land. so you get the stereotype of navy officers cheating on their wives with foreign women in “foreign ports of call.”

number two, if it’s a high ranking officer like the carrier strike/battle group commander (typically a RDML) who needs for some reason to leave the carrier at the center of the CS/BG formation & go to another ship, yeah you just send over a chopper like an SH-60 to go pick them up and ferry them to wherever they need to go. when I wrote ice (RADM) as deputy Cdr of third fleet (four carriers) that might be one way he’d get around the fleet. (But also not 100% sure he’d even be at sea. That was kind of just for plot/emotional reasons to separate him from mav.) but so like.. if the fleet commander/deputy cdr had a family emergency (say: found out that Carole is gonna die soon) and he got cleared to leave, he could hop on a helicopter in range (SH-60 has a range of about 400 mi for instance—the similar USCG HH-60 jayhawk, which was canonically what picked up mav & brought him back to base after he blew up the darkstar, has a range of 800 mi; if not in range he’d have to move his carrier closer [wouldn’t happen, he would be SOL]) which would take him to the nearest allied airfield with a plane to fly home. Which is what happened in my fic. lots of hurdles to clear. it’s very inconvenient & obviously not encouraged.

here is a relevant section from my wips.

for the mission in Top gun: maverick, obviously we don’t know for sure where the mission takes place, but it’s clearly somewhere in the northern INDOPAC region close to the ocean in specifically third fleet’s AOR (area of responsibility). (the list of reasons I chose southeast Russia to be the enemy location in my fic is soooo unbelievably long.) the navy would have a carrier strike group in the region for some time before. then it would make the most expeditious sense for the aircrews (mav, rooster et al) to be flown in from SoCal to somewhere closer, like a navy/air force base in Japan or South Korea, before they get transferred either by land (walk onto the carrier) or by air (chopper pick-up). given the time constraints of the mission I’m going with chopper. Carriers are fast… like really fast by boat standards… but not “travel across the Pacific Ocean in a day” fast. and not “waste time for a port call pick-up” fast.

also (random piece of nautical knowledge I know for some reason) there are some (possibly non-military) reasons why you’d do a personnel transfer by sea. take cruise ships for instance. When they pull into a port, there’s a whole guy whose job it is to take over for the captain to steer the boat into the port they presumably know very well. so this is actually how local cruise ship pilots get onto cruise ships. disney cruises included.

sketchy as fuck. I’m not sure if there’s a similar concept for aircraft carriers when they pull into unfamiliar ports… but I wouldn’t be surprised. however that’s for the captain of the boat. I would be shocked if high-ranking managerial officers ever needed to embark & disembark like this. but i just think it’s kind of funny.

#LOVE h-60s they’re just pretty birds #the army’s uh-60 and hh-60 black hawk replacement the v-280 valor is also gorgeous #but probably very dangerous and not as operationally useful (too wide!) #i still haven’t watched black hawk down yet… It’s three hours long…. #and I’ve already suffered through American sniper…. #not currently on my watchlist #military aviation #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #top gun maverick #asks #edts notes #thanks for the ask! again not an expert. a very enthusiastic and often misguided amateur

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Hello I was tagged by a lot of people for wip Wednesday thank you @devirnis @rogerzsteven @wildlife4life @rewritetheending @homerforsure @jeeyuns! Now. Are you all going to kill me with hammers if I say that when I sat down this morning to work on literally any of the many wips I have open, I instead wrote a short drabble set in the future of ER nurse Eddie au? Well. Here you go!

Warnings for alcohol and some mostly glossed over nsfw content

Was listening to this song on repeat while writing

"Your sister isn't, like, a secret Olympian is she?"

"Well, if it's secret enough, why would I know? Thank you." That second part Eddie aims at Adriana as she hands him a drink. He assumes she's not the athlete in question. "Why?"

"There's nets a little down the way, I asked if she wanted to play some volleyball and she got, like, this look on her face."

Eddie very carefully tries not to also get a look on his face, and somewhere to his left Adriana stirs the margarita mix a little harder to mask a tiny laugh. "Oh. Well I'm sure that's fine."

Buck smiles at him in a studious sort of way, tongue in the side of his mouth. "Now, I wouldn't be getting tricked in some way, would I?"

"Mm?" Eddie responds, neutrally.

"Or, perhaps, fooled?"

"Hm." He takes a sip of his drink.

Buck steps closer, looming over him, grin growing into something wide and conspiratorial. “Hoodwinked, maybe?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Eddie says, aiming for lofty but landing somewhere around embarrassingly giddy as Buck kisses him once, twice. “No all state varsity girls softball champions in my family. Sophia has never in her life accidentally broken anybody’s arm with how fast her spike is.”

“Jesus,” Buck laughs, puffs of air against Eddie’s skin. “You’re just gonna let me go out there and face possible bodily harm?”

“Her aim has improved.”

He laughs, and pulls Eddie in for another kiss. There's sand in Buck's hair, but there aren't many places sand isn't in this Air BNB up the coast with a backyard that opens right onto the dunes. They'd only got there yesterday and already the grit is under Eddie's nails, dragged across his skin, in his clothes and bedsheets. It’s an abrasive sort of dirtiness that Eddie doesn’t really mind, he feels like he’ll come home at the end of the weekend scrubbed clean by it, but he’d wondered, worried, that being so close to the beach for so long might make old fears rise up in Chris or Buck. They’d both tossed themselves right into the waves with the cousins all day long, though, and had gone out to do so again today, and it was only very late at night that Buck admitted in a whisper that it’s not the feeling of the water or the sand, but the endless roar of the tide when the rest of the world was quiet that left him feeling helpless and awake. Eddie had reached out for his hand, and they’d fucked slowly and silently, surrounded by thin walls in a house full of people, and the heady thrill of restraint had his hands and legs and everything shaking by the time he’d come. Buck — and Eddie is not not smug about this — had slept soundly the rest of the night.

Anyway. They kiss in the kitchen until Adriana stirs the pitcher with even louder, more pointed clanging. Buck pulls back first. “You wanna come play on my team?”

“No,” Eddie says, making a face that has Buck laughing again. “I’m staying in the shade and drinking margaritas.” He clanks the ice around his beverage in demonstration.

“Great plan,” Buck says, stealing a small sip. Eddie feels like he should say something about sobriety and childcare, but they’re on vacation and Sophia is out there and responsibly dry even if she may or may not be planning sports related manslaughter.

“I’ll meet you out there later.”

“Okay,” Bucks says, kissing his cheek. “I was a lifeguard for a few weeks once, so if you get really drunk and fall in the sea I’ll come fish you out.”

“My hero,” Eddie salutes him with the glass. Buck is several feet away into the sand when Eddie blinks and calls out. “Hey- wait, Buck! Wait!” Eddie grabs the sunscreen off the counter and follows a few feet off the porch. “Mi vida, wait,” he laughs the words as Buck skids to a clumsy turn and stumbles back to him. Eddie holds up the sunscreen. “Come on, don’t get lobstered, I won’t rub aloe on you later.”

Buck takes the bottle and applies a quick but generous layer. “I think you would,” he says quietly, voice and mouth curved all sly.

“Mm,” Eddie says again, neutrally, making steady eye contact as he accepts the bottle back and takes a sip of his drink slow enough that the alcohol burns in his mouth. Buck lets out one last huff of a laugh, kisses his cheek again, and marches off towards certain doom.

Eddie retreats back into the shade, with the drinks.

Adriana, at the counter, is staring at him.

“What?” Eddie absolutely does not hide behind his glass.

“Mi vida?” She asks, face tipped more towards surprised than teasing. “So it’s serious.”

Fuck. Eddie regrets saying it in front of someone who understands the words. Not the language but the context, what it might mean for Eddie to admit to thinking of a relationship in that way. Someone who knew him, during Shannon and the mess that came after, and after again. Someone who knows him, knows what a fearful man he grew into, knows the protective armor he forges out of carefully kept distance. Eddie was never good at commitment, and has learned to be perpetually frightened of the word forever because he's become intimately familiar with how quickly it can be ripped away. Mi vida, my life. It's terribly revealing. What a promise, what an act of trust. Buck, my life. He'd said it so easily, and staring back at his youngest sister now he doesn't think he can convincingly deny any conclusions she's drawing.

So. "Yes," he says, finishing his drink and holding out the glass for another. "I… it's serious." Gulp, gulp. “He… it’s serious.”

She nods, eyebrows raised all the way up, sipping her own drink. “I mean, clearly you’re all over each other, but I thought it was because he’s, like, tall and hot-“

“Ugh.”

“But like…” her glass tips towards him, liquid dangerously close to spilling. “You’re for real. Are you going to marry this man?”

Jesus. “Jesus, Ri.” Christ. Eddie finishes this drink, too. “I don’t- I don’t know. I can’t even think about that. I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, not marriage then,” she waves one hand to brush away the concept, while the other hand pours him another drink. “But like… You love him.”

Yes. He does, down to his bones he does, all consuming in a way he sometimes forgets to be scared of because it’s Buck, who makes it easy. He loves him, and has loved him, probably, he’ll admit it because of the two margaritas, since he was a stranger that once held his hand who’d pulled his son from a tsunami. It’s only been a year since they’d shared a cigarette and gone home together, but Eddie hardly needed any of that time to know the terrifying scale of this, the you’re it for me of it. He’d known, probably, two margaritas, since that first morning in the same bed. “I love him.”

It comes out awful and whispery and it makes Adriana move around the bar to wrap her arms around him. He leans his head on hers, lets himself be comforted in a way he wouldn’t have in his father’s house when they were young and there wasn’t really space for them to be friends around the roles of protector and protected they’d been slotted into. She smells like sunscreen and salt and limes, and is lovely and warm.

“You seem a lot happier,” she says quietly into his shoulder. “We- I don’t know. I was worried about you.” She leans back, knocks his arm with her knuckles. “So far away.” He doesn’t think she’s talking about the distance between California and Texas. “But he makes you, like… happy and goofy. It’s been a long time.”

He doesn’t point out that they’re on vacation, and it’s summer, and it isn’t always like this; that sometimes their sharp edges fit together wrong and there's a lot of horrible grinding sounds until they align again. But. "He makes me feel safe."

Her eyes glisten a little at the implication that a lot of the time he doesn't. "I'm glad you found each other."

Eddie smiles, genuinely, despite the circumstances of the finding. "Me too."

She knocks back her drink. "Are you going to tell mom and dad?"

"God." He scrubs a hand over his face, and then back through his hair for good measure. A year ago the answer had been a firm no. Texas was far away, he could live a whole life out here exactly as he wanted it and answer to no one. But Buck and Pepa go to bridge, now, and Buck is here on this Diaz Siblings trip when no other partners are because his sisters wanted to meet him, and the cousins all adore him, and Texas is far away but it's where Isabel lives now and Eddie knows- hopes- knows that she would love him, too. And he's taught himself fear for so long that he can't imagine it going any way but badly, but maybe he owes Ramon and Helena the chance to see his whole life and be happy for him, with him. "Maybe. I think… yeah, maybe."

She hugs him again, tight, and then puts her hands on her hips. "You know you still have us as backup. We won't let them be shitty."

He laughs. "I don't know if you can let them do anything."

"Mm," she says, moving to fill her glass again. "Me and Sophia are in possession of more grandchildren than you, that's a lot of leverage."

"Hey, I have Chris, quality over quantity," he grins and then dodges the drops of margarita she flicks at him.

"Fucker. Offer rescinded, I won't forbid them from seeing the kids if they don't immediately put up a pride flag."

He snorts, but he can feel his smile twisting sideways. "Adriana. I don't want you to fuck up your relationship with them for me."

"You think you have exclusive rights to childhood trauma in the Diaz family?" She shrugs, takes a drink, and then shrugs again a little sadder. "It's… it can be easier to stand up for someone else."

He takes a steadying breath against the regret of only being there for his sisters in some ways and not others, and nods, and holds a hand across the bar for her to take. "Here's to ruining Christmas," he says, glass in the air. They drink.

"You wanna go watch your boy get destroyed in the fine arena of weirdly competitive vacation volleyball?" She asks, setting her empty glass down.

He sets his next to hers, and contemplates just how clumsily he's about to go stumbling across the sand from all that rapidly digested tequila. "Sure." Buck will be too busy fighting for his life out there to notice him looking foolish. Though, and he can blame the sappy smile on the third margarita, he thinks Buck would still, always, catch him if he fell. “It’s so sad that I’ll have to tell them that I had a boyfriend who tragically died because Sophia spiked him into the earth’s core.”

She laughs, and they hook their arms together, and walk out into the sun.

#my writing #tag games #wip Wednesday #er nurse Eddie au

[rivensdefenseattorney]

Andros

Here's a link to the source for each image: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

___

(WIP)

Capital: Tides

Government of Andros: Dual-Monarchy

Demographics and Population

Population Size: Large

Population Distribution by Race:

Merfolk: (45-50%)

Fairies: (20-25%)

Elves: (10-15%)

Human: (10-15%)

Other: (5-10%)

History and Origins

In the realm of Andros, the two kingdoms, Terra and Mare, share a profound connection. Their bond traces back to a time long past, when a union between the Faefolk of Terra and Mare forged a single lineage that would shape the destiny of the realm.

The Royal Family of Terra, stemming from the fairy ancestry, preside over the sprawling landscapes and majestic cities of the surface kingdom. Endowed with wings of delicate beauty, an affinity for the natural elements, and a mastery of earthbound enchantments, they oversee the flourishing forests, meadows, and towering mountains of Terra.

The Royal Family of Mare, stemming from the merfolk ancestry, reign over the oceanic expanse of Andros. With their ethereal beauty, iridescent tails, and an innate understanding of the ocean's secrets, they hold court in the shimmering palaces beneath the waves. Their lineage boasts an intimate connection with Morphix, harnessing the elemental magic that pulses through the depths.

Though distinct in their heritage, the Royal Families of Mare and Terra are bound by blood, sharing the legacy of their common ancestors. Over the ages, this shared lineage has fostered a tradition of collaboration and mutual respect between the two kingdoms, symbolizing the inherent balance between land and sea.

Kingdom of Terra

The Kingdom of Terra represents the land regions of Andros. The fertile earth yields bountiful harvests, making agriculture one of the epicenters of this realm. Vast fields of vibrant crops stretch across rolling hills and verdant valleys, a testament to the kingdom's thriving agricultural industry. Visitors are greeted with open arms, embraced by a sense of warm hospitality that permeates the tropical air.

Amidst the picturesque scenery, a lively energy permeates every corner. Terra pulses with the rhythm of festivals, the melodies of music, and the infectious spirit of dance. The people of Terra are often fluent in a multitude of languages. They effortlessly weave a cultural tapestry that celebrates diversity. They come together in joyful gatherings, sharing their traditions through cultural exchanges.

Tourism thrives amidst this blend of natural beauty and cultural richness. Visitors are drawn to the kingdom's idyllic beaches, verdant jungles, and cascading waterfalls, finding solace in the laid-back atmosphere. Adventure seekers and relaxation enthusiasts alike find their haven in Terra's tropical paradise, where every experience is colored by the kingdom's zest for life and celebration. The air is filled with the aroma of unique spices and flavors, as Terra's cuisine, a fusion of diverse influences, delights the senses and leaves an impression on every traveler's palate.

Kingdom of Mare

Intertidal Zone

Here, where the sea kisses the land, the Halflings find their home. Halflings move effortlessly between the surface and the depths. Their communities, nestled in hidden coves and near coastal cliffs, serve as a bridge between the kingdoms of Terra and Mare. Halflings, being adept at traversing both realms, act as intermediaries, facilitating trade, cultural exchange, and cooperation between the two kingdoms.

Photic Zone

As sunlight pierces the surface waters, it bathes the photic zone in a mesmerizing glow. This well-lit region supports an abundance of marine life. Here, the cities of Mare flourish, their structures crafted from luminescent materials that harness the sunlight filtering through the waves. The merfolk inhabitants, with their affinity for illumination, enhance this zone with enchantments that create breathtaking displays of bioluminescence, turning the ocean depths into a living tapestry of color and light.

Aphotic Zone

In the dark and mysterious depths of the aphotic zone, Merfolk with unique adaptations thrive, attuned to the energies of Morphix. Their bioluminescent features, whether glowing orbs or intricate patterns that shimmer like ancient runes, attune them to the lifeforce, allowing them to draw sustenance and power from its essence. The cities of the Aphotic Zone exist as captivating marvels beneath the shroud of darkness. The cityscape shimmers with a mosaic of colors, vibrant and ever-changing, as Merfolk artisans infuse their creations with Morphix. The architecture within these cities is a testament to the mastery of bioluminescent craftsmanship.

Infinite Ocean

The Infinite Ocean is an endless expanse that transcends the boundaries of realms. The Infinite Ocean stands as a testament to the unifying force of water, an eternal realm that unites the disparate seas of Andros into a harmonious, interconnected whole.

The Labyrinth of the Abysses

A complex labyrinthine system spread across the abyssal depths, shrouded in an aura of ancient pathways. It constantly shifts, creating a maze where paths change. The Labyrinth serves as a threshold to the heart of the abyss, guiding seekers toward the source of Morphix. Explorers and seekers often traverse this labyrinth, facing trials and tests of wisdom.

The Deep Blue - Heart of the Abysses

The Deep Blue represents the epicenter where Morphix emanates, radiating a mesmerizing blue luminescence that illuminates the darkest depths. Revered as a sacred sanctuary by merfolk and creatures of the abyss, embodying the ocean's life force and primal energy. Various merfolk societies hold rituals or ceremonies, offering reverence and seeking blessings for their communities.

Morphix

Morphix, a luminescent and multifaceted energy, is the lifeblood of the infinite ocean, replacing conventional needs such as sunlight or fire, granting vitality, sustenance, and life to oceanic flora, fauna, and ecosystems. Its essence adapts to diverse oceanic environments, catering to the needs of creatures dwelling across varying depths and regions.

It emanates from sacred locations such as the Deep Blue at the heart of the abyssal depths, generating life, fostering growth, and offering spiritual sustenance to the ocean's inhabitants. It powers the ocean gates, serving as a cosmic key that enables safe passage and interconnectivity between different underwater realms.

Morphix is highly revered, enshrined in lore and cultural practices, and embodies unity and interconnectedness among diverse underwater communities. Its purity and uninterrupted flow are guarded by custodians and gatekeepers who ensure its sanctity, protecting against disruptions, and maintaining its integrity for the stability of the ocean gates and vitality of the oceanic realms.

__

Mood Board Notes

I decided to try adding a mood board last minute to this post, so forgive me if it isn't the best. I've created mood boards a couple years ago when I first started my rewrite, but I'm not sure if I feel conformable sharing them as they are. I don't fully get the ethics/legality of mood boards using copyrighted materials, so I just wanted to play it safe with some images I found from a free to use image website.

I'm thinking of possibly creating a collage instead for the character mood boards I currently have. I think those are more transformative? If anyone has some insight on this I'd appreciate any info and advice you have. I'd also like to know if this is even something anyone would be interested in seeing before I put all this effort into figuring out how to add some visuals. @_@

Andros Notes

I've always envisioned Andros, especially Terra, to be like a mixture of the Caribbean and Polynesia across it's various cities if it were to be real. This is only my first draft, so I'll most likely be adding more information in the future to what I see fit.

#winx club #winx headcanons #winx rewrite #winx #winx club headcanons #winx fanfic #winx aisha #winx club fanart #Winx club aisha #aisha #winx club layla #winx layla #andros #winx headcanon #winx club headcanon #winx fanfiction #winx club fanfiction #winx club fanfic #nabu #winx nabu #winx club nabu #winx club redesign #winx club rewrite #winx club reboot #winx redesign #winx reboot #fate the winx saga #fate winx saga #winx saga

[kaidabakugou]

merman bakugou came to fuck me in my dreams and now i’m not ok.

just being stranded in the middle of the sea, paddling your small row boat. only the light from the moon illuminating your path as you continue searching for land.

deciding to stop on bioluminescent waters, the blue glow emitting from the movement of the fish around you bringing you comfort. taking the time to remove your wet clothes and set them aside to dry, since navigating at night won’t be of much help anyways.

leaning over the edge of the boat to dip your hand in the water, the warmth lulling you to sleep. failing to notice the bright set of ruby eyes stalking towards your boat, where you are naked and defenseless.

i may or may not have started a whole fic on this even tho i have a field of wips i want to get done :)

#kai.rambles #morning thots #alsoooo why does my body hurt after a sex dream #like i get the belief is that a demon was fucking me but dudeeee my neck and inner thighs shouldn’t hurt like that #like i just came back from a marathon or some shit #merman #merman bakugou #bakugou imagines #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader smut #bakugou katsuki x reader smut #katsuki bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader smut #mha x reader smut #katsuki bakugou headcanon #bakugou katsuki headcanon #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou headcanons #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugo #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugo headcanons

[minecraftbookshelf]

WIP Wednesday

From There and Back Again, the third arc of the Marriage of State AU, which I have not talked about at all. Enjoy!

It took Shrub a moment to realize that they'd lost a member of the party. They turned in their seat, the Mother Wolf halting while they looked back the way they came. Katherine and Sausage were both still there, treading carefully over the red ground. Katherine absentmindedly petting the wolf beside her while Sausage gestured wildly as they spoke to each other. And nearly out of sight, back where the crimson turf and mushroom-trees turned to basalt and blackstone, the Elf King stood still as a statue, staring into the depths of the lava sea. Katherine and Sausage noticed her staring, and looked back in turn. After a moment of no one, not even the wolves moving, Sausage hopped back down the hill and approached the elf. "Xornoth? Are you alright?" It's been almost a year and it is still weird to hear genuine concern in the King of Mythland's voice, instead of the mocking cruelty that was all Shrub had ever heard from him in her time here. Katherine has assured them that this is the real Sausage, but they can't help but be wary anyway. Xornoth tilted their head to the side, branching black antlers brushing against crimson vines. It is a familiar silhouette that sends a shudder down Shrub's spine. "I'm going to try something." With no more warning than that, they shuck the outer layer of their travel robes the way Shrub's little cousins would shed their clothes to go swimming in the summer, tossing the fine-woven wool so that it lands on a sputtering Sausage's head. And the king of Rivendell dives headfirst into the lava.

-

AU Masterpost

#rain rambles #shrub berry the gnome #marriage of state au #xornoth #empires smp #empires s1 #shubble #There and Back Again is an arc i have a lot of feelings about #also yes there are three different tenses in this #its a first draft thats why its a wip #there is a lot of yelling immediately after this

[sealrock]

the result of researching stories about japanese mythology, fox-wives, and binge-watching inuyasha for the 99th time in a row:

takami and tomoko, twin auspices who take on humanoid forms. my lore on them is very bare bones and subject to change but here's what I got thus far:

'takami' and 'tomoko' are just aliases. they're true names are 'raikou' and 'futen', they are the twin lords of chaos and the scourge of the east

while they appear human, the twins have pointed ears and 'birthmarks' along their faces

despite their appearances, takami is known to be a dense, wisecracking trickster who eats his weight in his favorite foods. tomoko is the mature one of the two; if takami gets too brash or if he intentionally annoys her, she'll yank at his hair to shut him up. despite her no-nonsense attitude, tomoko has a love of fashion and theater

they hail from the eastern region of koshu and are said to have been born near daitenzan mountain nearly two thousand years prior

their original forms were of raccoon dogs born with silver and black fur. because of their unique coloring, various lords and poachers of the region wished to hunt them for their body parts as they believed they would bring them good fortune. the will to survive allowed them to live beyond their natural lifespans and gain sentience and immense spiritual power

they can take on the forms of silver raccoon dogs at will to hide out or escape trouble. while under the effects of aramitama, they can transform into terrifying creatures and wreak total destruction on the lands

takami and tomoko are formidable foes in battle as they harness the powers of lightning and wind. while their ages may differ, they could rival the four lords in brute strength alone

the twins can be seen flying by at times: tomoko rides on a cloud while takami's mode of transportation are floating wheels of fire beneath his feet

tomoko has been called 'the wind sorceress' for her ability to harness deadly gusts, gales, and twisters with her fans; they're sharp enough to behead a man if he's not careful. she's also agile, swift on her feet, and can create clones of herself out of air

takami wields a naginata called 'raiden'. it is rumored to be cursed with demonic energy. besides being a polearm, takami uses his naginata as a lightning rod to channel thunder and lightning for ranged attacks

the twins operated as mercenaries during the age of blood; they served various clans on both sides of the war throughout the centuries for coin. they gained infamy for their peculiar magicks and penchant for mayhem. while awe-inspiring, the warlords at the time grew fearful of the twins' power as auspices and elected to band together in order to slaughter them. takami and tomoko narrowly escaped certain death by fleeing to onokoro in order to hide in the looming tower heaven-on-high. they took advantage of the mortals' superstitions of the island and laid low for the next few centuries

they became unofficial guardians of the ruby sea and the locals of onokoro believe that the heavy gales and severe thunderstorms, sometimes deadly, are caused by raikou and futen. they offer prayer and worship to quell the twin fury of the auspices

at some point in time, takami fell in love with a mortal named tauvane, a rare occurrence amongst their kind. this would eventually lead to his downfall and tomoko's loss of spiritual power, it was stolen by tauvane who now harnesses chaotic wind powers (wip)

takami unknowingly sired a son known as achille who inherited his father's power over the destructive element of lightning. tomoko is achille's aunt and achille can descend into a primal rage as a result of being part-auspice

#mypost. #ffxiv gpose #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv oc #yea tomoko was partly inspired by kagura and takami is based off of the thunder brothers sshhh #i honestly like how their faces turned out #achille definitely got his facial features from takami #(and achille uses miqo emotes too it's cute) #q.