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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

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The only thing you want to do is... [Price x fem!Reader]

Price broke his hand on the last mission. Fortunately for him, his caretaker is just as adorable as she is eager to help him in every way.

CW and tags: Legal age gap, power imbalance, daddy kink, pervert!Price, obsessive!Price, coercion into sex, handjob (m!receiving)

Word count: 3246

This work on AO3

You’re such a sunshine, it hurts.

John Price never considered himself to be a good man. He did what he had to do to protect his country, to ensure that big bad terrorists are kept at bay, and foreign militaries are ending up where they belong – somewhere in the ditch, with reports stating KIA an anonymous bullet drugged out of their skulls.

His job was just that – a job, something that had to be done because he knew that someone else, someone worse, would gladly take his place in case of retirement. The captain can be considered a fucking angel compared to some people he is working with – no one would ever dare call him evil when people like Graves still exist out there, hunting for innocents.

But you’re so fucking sweet to him, he simply can’t handle it.

When his arm got injured, and he was forced to get on leave for at least a month – he tried to argue for something less, but Lasswell silently pointed out that he hadn’t had a break in the past five years, and she would kick him out of his own Task Force if he’d continue to refuse – he got assigned a caretaker by Kate recommendation.

John was fully expecting some old lady, probably a retired officer or field medic. Maybe some burly man with too much time on his hands and the ability to give really nice massages under flights of bullets. Perhaps, worst case scenario, he would be assigned an actual; nurse that wouldn’t buy any of his shit – that amount of whiskey he drinks is prescribed by his therapist, smoking cigars in the apartment is a nice form of relaxation, and he actually doesn’t need help and can go in service back again less than in two weeks.

But, the Captain got wee ol’ you, all nice and warm, and adorable, and too fucking young to have anything to do with his apartment.

You’re nice, warm, fresh out of college, where you got some recommendations about rehabilitating veterans back into normal lives. Probably was writing a Thesis about something as dumb as “Healing PTSD through flower crowns and little touches”. You chirp your way into his heart and refuse to go out – just like Kate promised to him, you really didn’t allow him to do anything on his own.

God, it was infuriating – how much he wanted to simply grab your shoulders and kiss you. Or kick you out and find someone else to take care of him, someone boring, someone of appropriate age. Without dumb, bright eyes and cute smiles, without enthusiasm, that can only be seen in unpaid interns and college graduates who still believe that the world is fair and nice.

You cook his dinners and clean up his apartment – as small as it is, never having a family or any other reason to make it even slightly bigger – and you do this with such a wide smile on your face it actually makes Price question basically everything he knows about young ladies doing charity work. You must be paid triple because you fold his underwear in neat little cubes and refuse to accept his help. Always chirped something about his hand like he can’t kill a man with his teeth only.

— I can fold my own pants, love.

He presses his body against the doorframe of the small bathroom – looks at your ass so shamelessly bent over the washing machine. You’re folding his dried clothes, and he can only pray that you aren’t slowly resenting him for being such a disgusting old man. He knew he looked good for his age, 37 years in this world molded him into something that many young women would consider hot – even though his beard is unkept and his hair grew a bit longer since he couldn’t be arsed to do anything about it, and his dominant hand is broken.

— We don’t want to sprain your hand even more, right? — Everythin’ is alright with my bloody hand…

— Lady Lasswell said I shouldn’t listen to you like this, sir. Sorry.

— Little minx.

— Me or Lady Lasswell?

John looks at you, so eager and cheerful, and he just wants to…he can’t, of course, he stops himself before he even forms the thought because it’s dirty and you don’t deserve this, and your shy smile as you laugh softly and push the last of the laundry in the neat pile on the washing machine.

You look too eager to please, and he has an idea – the one he will never act upon. Maybe will entertain himself later, stroking himself in some abandoned base deep in the snowy tundra, trying to remember your warmth as if a sinner like him can even comprehend your light.

God, you got him so bad, he starts thinking about good ol’ Jesus again. You really are a side to behold, aren’t ya.

He looks at you again – you’re so easy to please. You cook for him, the smell of home cooking that he almost forgot, all the ingredients you invited yourself to buy when he left his card for you. You didn’t think it was weird, not a single mischievous bone in your body – if anything, he was casually prompting you to go and buy yourself something nice, something as compensation for all the trouble you endured for him.

Instead, you went out of your way to cook for him, to make him tea like he wanted it – without sugar, but with a small amount of milk poured into a cup that is probably the most expensive thing in this whole place except for his weapons.

The problem is – John Price doesn’t really like it when people are taking care of him. Not because he is shy or insecure, god forbid, but because he knows that if a pretty young thing like you is going to show him kindness, he will take a fucking mile and make you run from him as fast as you can. He has desires, he has needs, something that pretty good girls like you should know nothing about.

You’re so eager to please that you’ll probably jerk him off if he were to whine about his arm being broken and his inability to get himself off because of it. Which, in turn, gives him an…idea.

Price was never a good person – he isn’t the worst guy either. He sees your reactions, that adorable heat of your face when he brushes his knuckles over your cheek in an affectionate manner. How you are biting your lips every time you have to fold his underwear, when you cook for him, and he presses his body against yours, rocking his hips just gently enough to not make his arousal obvious. John knows you like him in more ways than just one – he doubts that such a lovegirl like you would ever agree to take care of a grumpy military man like him.

He wonders where your father is – probably out of the picture if his precious daughter is almost crying from a desire to please a guy like him. He wonders if you have a boyfriend or if you’re seeing someone else – if you’re a virgin or you already had a series of disappointing sessions with blokes that have no idea how to behave with an angel like you.

Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be taking care of a SAS captain – did your superiors forget to tell you just how girl-hungry men like him are? That he didn’t even bother to find a wife, and the loneliness of a single life will make him fucking explode if a girl as pretty as you were in the vicinity of that perverted old dog. You must be stupid – or so insanely naive, it’s not even funny.

He licks his lips, staring at you again. He is certainly isn’t a good guy – not the worst either, but it’s up for debate. He wants to hold you close and say all of those pretty good things he knows you want to hear. He also wants to push you as close to him as possible and just fuck that pretty girl until you’re begging for him to make you his wife. He’d always laugh at the thought of other military commanders and higher rank soldiers having sugar babies – especially the mercs and their fucking inability to keep a girl who isn’t tied to their paychecks. But now…he might just pay for your adorable pout and eagerness.

Might make a call to that one masked arsehole and ask how the hell he keeps his questionably young wife around without breaking her legs. Visibly, at least.

— Sir? Planet calls for Captain Price.

You giggle when you are waving your hand around him. Shit – looks like he zoned out for a hot minute, leaving you free to stare at his face, the fantom red spreading across his skin as if he is actually embarrassed to be caught like this. He isn’t, of course, he is stronger than some girl trying to get a rise out of him. He thinks he is stronger, at least.

You wave your hand in front of his face again, and the insects are kicking in – captain grabs your hand, not even caring that his supposed helplessness stems from the fact his dominant hand is still broken. He has no problems keeping you in place with just his left hand – and you almost look scared when you understand that you literally can’t move.

Your innocent smile turns into a pathetic whimper when he squeezes you even more. Bruises, no doubt, are starting to form already – well, it should be your fault. Good girls are usually smarter than teasing an old dog like him, even if you’re trying to play innocence. He knows what you are.

His future special girl that is. A wife, if he plays his cards right…and the captain was always good at poker.

— Shite, love. Sorry.

His smile mirrors yours – an innocent display like he didn’t almost break your wrist in his hold. He is still squeezing your hand, but not he slowly presses his lips against your knuckles – thin, dry lips gently caressing your skin in a gesture that you should never accept from a guy who kills people as a job. Who saves people, too – but a good guy with a gun is barely an upgrade from a bad one.

He kisses your fingers and finds heaven in the feeling of your soft skin against his lips. You are certainly embarrassed, and this is exactly what he wants – an old pervert trying to get in the pants of a cute girl who just wants to take care of him without any strings attached. He just has to make this whale thing complicated, isn’t he?

— It’s okay, sir. Just thought I lost you for a second.

— Not a chance.

Your smile looks a tad bit mischievous – that is, or he is simply hallucinating from painkillers he is forced to drink every morning because you refuse to let him feel pain even though he is used to it. You are acting like he is a soft doll made out of pink ribbons and soft plushes, not a seasoned soldier with his own thoughts and ideas about what he can do about your desire to please him. He might just use your eagerness – his cock has been pitching for too long without female attention, and he usually doesn’t indulge in shitty one-night stands in some sketchy pubs, but he can make an exception for now. For you.

You smile awkwardly, still trying to get your hand out of his grasp. Little minx, teasing him like he can’t just push you on this exact washing machine and fuck you like a slut you are. Poor girl, you probably don’t even know what kind of thoughts he has in his head – even though your eyes tell him something your lips cannot articulate.

John acts on his instincts, and they usually don’t deceive him.

— If you want to help so badly, I can think of another way.

— Is that so, sir? You’re going to get him in so much shit with Lasswell, he doesn’t even know how he is going to get out of it after fucking her best little protege. Would have to marry you – like it’s not his end goal, like he doesn’t want to make your care for him a tad bit more permanent. He has done so many good things for humanity, why can’t he be a bit selfish and get himself a little something to make this place feel more like home?

He thinks of a pretty thing like you, heavy with his kids, cooking something nice and hearty in his house – not this crappy apartment, of course, he’d buy you something in the countryside, away from terrorists and public squares, with good schools and greenery all around.

You lick your lips and tilt your head to the side. He is daydreaming again.

— If you want to make me relax so badly, love, there is something I need help with…

Beating around the bush like this isn’t in his character – but he knows that you’re a good girl, maybe way too good and proper. He can’t just shove his dick in your hand, it would be too unpolite.

He has to prepare you, it’s a slow sniper mission where he needs to approach you as gently and quietly as possible – he still holds your hand in his, a phantom of his lips tucked away on the softness of your skin.

Then he places his hand on his growing erection – as awkwardly as he can operate with only using his left arm as a helper.

Price might not be the master of espionage, but he also didn’t get his rank for not being able to do cover missions under pressuring circumstances and lie in the faces of people who trust him. Not be the best person, of course, but he gives you a choice. You have all the power now – even with his weapons safely stashed in his bedroom, he knows he won’t ever try to force you. He won’t have to.

— Help your captain, eh?

You’re embarrassed, shy, scared even – your hands are trembling, fingers tracing the outline of his cock with morbid curiosity he never thought he’d find this adorable. You don’t stop and don’t try to fight him – like a little animal, nervous and terrified somewhat, you’re slowly indulging yourself in something that you actually shouldn’t.

He lets go of your hand and allows you to continue on your own – like a good girl, you only nod and slowly duck your palm in his boxers. He’d say that the way he is rock-solid just from looking at your ass and pouting on your face is weak, but he can afford to be a bit pathetic after so many weeks without the ability to jerk off. With your watchful gaze, he just couldn’t find it in his heart – or the only remaining working hand – to do something to help with his raging crush on this adorable social worker who comes to help him.

John is many things – a war hero, war criminal, the captain, and the butcher of many who may deem his actions irredeemable. He made peace with not being the poster good guy and often dirtying his hands just to keep the world clean – and he knows that, in the end, he deserves a pretty young thing to jerk him off while he kisses your hairline and whispers sweet nothing with that beautiful accent of his.

— This is not very… appropriate, sir.

— Bullocks, love. You’re helpin’, that’s why you’re here.

You’re nervous when your hand, squeezing his shaft firmly, goes up and down on his cock. You’re trying to find the rhythm in his quiet grunts and little moans, not having too much experience with pleasuring men who you like this much. It’s fear of disappointing him that makes you go wild, that approving gaze of his every time you press your soft fingers against the head of his cock and squeeze a little.

He is throbbing in your palm, pre-cum leaking on the small of your fingers – naturally, you lick it as slowly as possible, not breaking the eye contact.

Price moans.

— Bloody hell, luv…so good for daddy.

The name makes your ears burn, the desire growing in your stomach – you fight the urge to drop on your knees and take him fully in your mouth. This isn’t what he wants, you think, so you just continue to squeeze him more, making sure he is satisfied with every little movement your hand makes. You lick your lips and continue, feeble attempts at containing the rhythm with shaky fingers.

— I just wanted to help you with your life, not…this.

He chuckles, unharmed hand presses on the small of your back to fix you in place. You lick your lips, understanding that he is not going to let you go this easily – you don’t want to behave like this, of course, it’s against the terms of your contract and your agreement to help him without feelings attached, but he moans so deeply for you, hips are buckling to fuck the firmness of your hand like he is ready to use your moist, prepared pussy.

God, what are you even thinking about?

You don’t know if you should be doing this, but the captain is not letting you go – and you can’t even do anything against his wishes, can you?

— We really shouldn’t be doing this.

— Quiet. I’ll help you out after my hand is healed, eh? — This isn’t what I’m talking about, sir.

— Now, let’s not use that here. I’m sir in the field, not here.

He is manipulating you as hard as he can – he can feel the tension in your eyes and the way you’re squeezing his cock, and he wants nothing more but to simply push you harder, make you fall apart in his hold like a precious porcelain vase. You’re sensitive and shy, just perfect for a bastard like him – his only regret is that the dumb cast on his right hand won’t really allow him to relax to have sex with you properly.

He will pay you back later – on your back, on your knees, on your tummy, moaning his name as he plunges his seed deep into you. It was about time he’d settle down with a pretty wife of his own – he can afford you, certainly.

— I can’t call you daddy, it’s embarrassing…

Your shy words are what send him over the edge. John Price was never a good guy to begin with, but your little pleas are enough to make him cum – and it’s certainly one of the biggest sins he has ever committed. Cute girl like you shouldn’t be so embarrassed about jerking him off, but here you are.

Your hands are covered in cum as he continues to release his seed, only sad because he wasn’t able to breed you properly – that’s the agenda for the time when he finally is freed from this dumb cast. Might just ask Lasswell for extended leave.

— You’ll just have to get used to this, love. Not letting you go after this.

You can only whimper when he kisses you – possessive and tender at the same time. A silent promise of making you his dumb little wife.

#cod #yandere price #price x reader #captain price #john price #captain john price #yandere cod #call of duty #cod imagine #cod fanfic

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cursedhaglette · 3 months

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Thrice Before Dawn

She thought he was having a nightmare, so naturally, she thought she was helping. Opening the tent flap, she's surprised to find something entirely unexpected.

Rating: E Word Count: 2,900 Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, male masturbation, squirting

[ao3 link]

Halia takes last watch, preparing to guard over the camp until dawn breaks over the horizon, sketchbook in hand. It’s been ages since she’d been able to take the time to draw or journal, either tied up in other things that needed doing while she kept watch or simply too exhausted to do anything but stare off into the darkness.

She opens the book to where she’d left off, finding the page she’d marked to be the one she’d filled with sketches of Astarion. She can’t help her cringe as she looks over her work. It’s not bad by any means, as far as her ruined mind can tell, but since they’d spent the night together out in the forest a tenday ago, things between them had grown strange and tense.

Gone was the playful flirtation, the long, charged stares, and the touches that lingered just a bit longer than could be called casual. She kept telling herself it was fine, he wasn’t obligated to want her just because they’d slept together. Though, truth be told, she very much wanted to repeat the experience - she wanted him to like her, to want her, more than she felt she should.

Blasted, handsome vampire.

Sighing to herself, she turns the page, trying to think if anything notable had occurred in the last couple days that might be worth jotting down. The same thing day after day, fights and hiking and threats of death or the end of the world. At least they were almost to the creche, which might prove interesting or different.

Across camp, she hears a muffled groan and she snaps up at the sound. Scanning the tents surrounding the dying embers of the campfire, she tries to make out if anything is out there - hunting them in the darkness..

There is…nothing to be seen though. Only darkness and then - a grunt followed by something almost like a muffled whimper.

Halia stands, tip-toeing across camp and approaching each tent, praying that without her usual armor and robes she can stay quiet enough to catch whatever had snuck up on them before it caught onto her. At least everyone was nearby to aid her, should it be something truly deadly.

She doesn’t hear anything again until she finds herself before the last tent - Astarion’s. Then there’s rustling sounds, and another groan almost like he might be…dreaming? Or rather, having a nightmare, she guessed. It wouldn’t be the first time hearing him toss and turn, tortured by the memories of his awful past even while trancing.

Is it appropriate to check on him? They’ve gotten to know each other well enough and she hardly wants him to suffer through whatever was going on in his trance, but she knows he can sensitive to such vulnerabilities.

Biting her lip and bouncing on her heels, she tries to decide what she ought to do, and then there’s another muffled groan and acts.

The tent flap swings wide, held open by her hand, and time seems to slow. It wasn’t what she’d expected to find - Astarion tortured by a nightmare, curled on his side and whimpering for her to wake him from the horrors.

He lays flat on his back, one hand pressing into his forehead and something in his mouth, an attempt to muffle the noise he was making, if Halia had to guess. His shirt was pulled up enough to reveal part of his chiseled torso, but her eyes didn’t linger there.

He was fucking up into his hand, his hips thrusting eagerly and cock weeping pre-cum that glistened in the low light creeping in through the open tent flap. She’s seen it before but like this, Gods, it was like a work of art.

He’s suckling on a rag, which Halia realizes quickly was bloody and - Gods, was that what she’d used to clean up her bloody wound from the fight earlier in the day? How had he…?

She can't move - entirely transfixed as she watches his muscles flexing into another hip thrust, the curve of his glutes visibly working even in the low light. Her breath catches in her throat and she’s trying to process the immediate want that heats her blood at the sight before her, catches his attention and finally, Astarion turns to look.

His ruby eyes widen as he looks over his favorite warlock, and then he smirks, studying how she blushes while he lazily strokes his cock once more - holding her gaze as he works his precum around his shaft.

“Fuck, oh Gods, I’m so sorry,” Halia mumbles, finally turning away before she can stare any longer, and manages to shut the tent flap with all the urgency she could muster before hurrying away. She wants to stay, of course she does. She wants to watch and taste and touch and moan with him. But if he wants that, she knows she would have been invited.

“Leaving so soon?”

Halia half turns at the question, already several paces from his tent and thinking of a million ways to apologize for her intrusion but coming up short. He catches her quickly and holds his loose trousers up in one hand, the other snaking around her middle and holding her fast against him. His cold hand sends a chill through her skin, still warm from the fire and encouraging that blazing want that’s settled in her core at the sight of him so unguarded - alone, whimpering, eager.

“Didn’t enjoy the show, darling?” The question is pressed into her neck, and she knows he delights in the goosebumps that immediately appear under his cool breath.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers without turning to face him. “I thought you might be having a nightmare or…I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And you didn’t think to wait and make sure I was alright?” He tuts in her ear, his mouth so close she can feel the way it curls into a smile. “So cruel.”

She took in a deep inhale of breath, unsure of what to do with herself as his hand tightened around her waist, tugging her closer to him. He’s still hard, despite his cock being stowed in his trousers, and Halia has to resist the wanton urge to grind against him in the middle of the still sleeping camp.

“Perhaps you’d like to come help me…get back to sleep,” he murmurs before taking one earlobe between his teeth and nipping gently. His hand crests lower, teasing the waistline of her loose camp pants and moving so slowly towards where he knows she wants him.

“Only -” she pauses as he kisses her neck, humming in approval as his hand dips lower, finally touching at her core. She knows she’s already soaked, the sight of him fucking into his own hand, cock glistening with precum, had immediately drenched her. Now Astarion knows it too.

“Only if you want me,” Halia stammers, biting her lip as a single, cold finger dances across her clit.

“Oh my dear, I believe you’ve already seen how badly I want you tonight,” a second finger joins the first, rubbing agonizingly slow circles against her. Astarion huffs a smug laugh as she bites her lip, holding back a whimper of desperation and pleasure. “Come with me.”

And then, Astarion’s hands are gone - a hollow ache left where he’d been. She can’t help but follow him back to his tent, called by the pleasure she knows can be found within. The mess of blankets and open books welcome her, as does the smell of him - earth and spice and whatever perfumed oil he uses to make his skin smell like heaven made flesh.

The flap drops behind Astarion as he moves and kneels before her, and the space goes dark, but she doesn't need any light as his hands move to the laces of her pants. He makes quick work of them and then her legs are bare and he’s teasing, and Halia knows it - knows he wants her to beg for more, for his touch or his tongue.

“My golden, little bird,” he purrs as he nears her center, finally calling out how soaked she’s been for him since the first touch. “Look at you, such a mess. Is this all for me? All from your spying?”

Halia has to force herself not to give in to her nerves, not to wrap her arms around her waist or cover her face to hide her slowly growing blush - knowing it will only make him more smug. He likes her shameless, knowing he can pull that side of her out with each touch as she grows more desperate.

“I wasn’t -” he presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh, humming in approval when she gasps in response, her argument lost at the feeling of his lips drifting higher and higher.

He pulls her panties down finally, one swift movement freeing her pussy for him, but he continues teasing along the edge of where real pleasure would be found and Gods if he doesn’t touch her again soon, she’s going to be reduced to begging.

And she really doesn’t want to have to beg, it will only mean far too much smugness to deal with tomorrow if she does.

“Lay down,” he commands. When Halia does, he finally descends upon her, ready to feast.

Astarion draws the flat his tongue up her core slowly at first, and once he reaches her clit, he pauses to softly suck and kiss at the swollen bud before licking up her again. It’s simultaneously everything and not enough, her hips rolling up as she seeks more from his practiced, wicked mouth. Each soft kiss has her whimpering, and finally he indulges her fully, sucking herr pulsing, ready clit into his mouth and plunging two fingers inside, spreading and filling her.

She desperately wants to fuck herself on his fingers, but his other hand holds fast to her hips to keep her in place while his hand continues slowly, testing how she stretches around him while his tongue dances up and down along her folds.

“If I’d known how greedy you’d be for me, I’d have you like this every night,” Halia hears in her mind, his voice echoing through the tadpole so he can taunt and tease without removing his mouth from her cunt. “I’m going to have you begging for more before I finally take you.”

“Oh Gods,” she moans, his words adding to the intensity building in her core. She can feel it building, his tongue the spark to the kindling of her want.

Astarion huffs a laugh against her soaked cunt as he curls his fingers inside her, finding a spot she’s never had stroked before and immediately makes her squirm. Halia’s legs twitch, wanting to close at the intensity of the sensation, but Astarion’s broad shoulders keep her from moving too far.

“Keep these spread,” he chides, picking up speed. And then she’s lost in her release, covering her mouth with one hand to stifle the primal, desperate moan that tears through her chest as her body clenches around his hand. A gush comes as she rides out her climax, soaking his wicked mouth and the blankets below her.

She’s never experienced such intense pleasure, never been so wet, but cumming so hard for him only leaves her mindless and unable to be bashful about what’s just happened. Her body just wants more, aching for the stretch of his cock and to feel the heat of his pleasure inside her.

“Good girl,” he tells her, pulling his mouth away. He wipes away the shine of her squirting release with one hand, the other firmly in place as his thumb circles her sensitive clit and fingers continue to work inside. “Can you give me a little more? Can you soak my hand again before I fuck you?”

“I want you to fuck me now,” Halia pleads, her voice thick with want and almost whining for him, every trace of resolve not to act desperate for him gone in the wake of her climax.

“Then cum for me again, sweet thing, and you can have your fill of me.”

His thumb presses into her harder and she sees stars, the intensity of the feeling earning him a deep, guttural moan that he chuckles at. His fingers keep working inside her, and Halia can only watch as he reaches for the rag he’d used to muffle his moans and presses it into her mouth.

“Bite down on this, love, we don’t want you waking up the whole camp, do we? I don’t intend to share your pleasure with anyone else.”

Before Halia can protest, his fingers find the rhythm she needs and her body crashes again, soaking him just as he’d asked while he continues to finger her through the peak of her pleasure. He only pulls his hand away once she’s finished clenching around him, trying to catch her breath and watching as he lifts his soaked fingers to his mouth.

He sucks her cum off himself as he undoes his pants with his other hand, groaning around the taste of her while his cock springs free. It’s still desperately hard, soaked in precum and actively leaking more. Any other night, she might have asked to taste it - to lick every drop of his precum clean and have him fuck into her mouth with abandon.She wants his hips rolling into her throat just like she’d seen him fucking into his hand.

“Now, what was it you wanted?” he asks smugly, nudging her legs apart further and smiling at the mess he’s made. He rolls the sheath of his cock, smearing the precum as he prepared himself to fuck her.

“I warn you, darling, I was close before you showed up the first time so I don’t know how long I’ll -” his words are quickly cut off by his own groan as the head of his heavy cock finally begins to stretch her, and Halia’s warmth welcomes him wholly.

They whimper together as he finally pushes inside, and she watches as his eyes close in pleasure, her body working to take him while he slowly presses into her. He pulls away once, twice, and then slides home, burying himself to the hilt - both of them gasping in unison at the feeling.

Lewd, soaked sounds filled the tent with each thrust of his cock within her warm walls, hands roughly guiding her hips and core along his cock. He rips the rag from between her teeth, replacing it with a deep, bruising kiss before taking her tongue in his mouth and sucking on it.

“Fuck, Halia, it’s like you were made to take me,” Astarion says, pulling away from her lips but reaching forward to take one nipple between his fingers and twisting enough to make her clench around him, earning her a satisfied huff.

“Please,” she whines, closer to oblivion with every passing moment that he spends inside her, “please, more, more -”

His hips roll harder, each slam driving deeper into her and she sees stars, unsure if she’ll be able to walk again after he’s done with her. She knows she isn’t technically his, but if he asked her in that moment, she’d give him everything - entirely undone by the pleasure he’s offered her.

“So greedy for me,” he repeats with a moan, still trying to play the rake though so close to the edge himself. “My good girl, my sweet Halia, my -”

He spills inside her with a grunt before he can finish his last thought, and the abrupt warmth of him filling her is enough to send her shuddering into one final, blissful climax - milking the last few seconds of his spend deeper within her.

She pants for a moment and he nearly collapses on her, shifting to one side before reaching for the rag. He doesn’t look as he wipes at what remains of their joining on his skin, and ruby eyes meet hers in a contended gaze she’s only seen a handful of times. If her heart weren’t already racing, it would be the moment he looked at her that way.

Dawn is on the horizon by the time Halia makes her way from the soaked bedroll and the perfect lover within, and she desperately works to calm her still thundering heart. Her knees wobble and she’s going to be sore all day, but by the Gods does she feel alive.

She’s going to fall for him if she’s not careful - throw herself headlong into something she knows he won’t want. Even still, she can’t bring herself to regret what they’d done. She’s going to fall into the trap that is Astarion and it’s going to tear her apart and then he’s going to have her begging for more, just because he can.

And then footsteps sound behind her and he’s there, kissing her cheek softly.

“Come on, we should clean up before anyone wakes up,” Astarion says quietly, and she spots his blanket under his arm.

“That was…nice,” Halia says simply, smiling at him. “Fun.”

“It’s hard not to have fun with you,” he says in return, and there’s no performance in his words. Just honesty.

It’s the first time Halia ends her watch feeling so content.

In fact, it might be one of the best mornings she can remember.

#astarion fic #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfic #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x dark urge #astarion smut #astarion x oc #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #hagfics

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lady-ashfade · 2 months

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Blood And Pressure

Part three

Yandere!Pjo × Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Annabeth Chase, Grover Underwood

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that's all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens. (Except for Clarisse and Luke at pjo show actors)

-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out. (Luke will be back don’t worry)

“Well,” you sigh and look at Percy with sadness but tried to not show it. In this short time you had someone who dispute just meeting you, gave you something you wanted for as long as you have been here. A friend.

“You’ll be great here. Luke will take care of you.” Percy gripped the straps of his backpack at his name on your lips.

“Yeah, he seems nice..” he looked past your shoulder at the boy that must have been a year older then him. But he was much larger then he was..more muscular and a few inches taller.

“It’s hard to be in a new place, trust me I know that.” You paused for a second and he could see you running over your thoughts. Before he could piece together anything you wrapped your arms around him and embraced him.

He was stunned in place as his chest become breathless at being close to you. This was his chance, so he wrapped his arms around you and smiled at how your hair smelled sweet.

“Thank you Percy,” you whispered while still holding so tightly onto him. You cared little about anything else.

“For what?”

“Giving me a friend for as long as I can.” You pulled back from him and stepped away with a embarrassed expression. Before percy could reply, Chiron called your name and you gave him one last look and walked away.

You walked out the cabin beside the centaur with your legs practically dragging.

You felt sick to your stomach while thinking of being back in the house and being stuck there again with no one your age to hang out with. You stared at the ground while waking and you could feel Chirons gaze on you but you didn’t bother looking up.

Deep down you knew you weren’t supposed to be here. It didn’t make sense to you but you blacked out everything before this “camp” and only pieces came back to you. You remember someone training you…you remembered your powers and how to use them. And, you remember the book you had- the only thing of your old life. But not what you are.

“It’s just a silly little story,” you overheard the first night in the big house. “Just let her keep it.” Chiron convinced the god.

Now you got a taste of freedom you didn’t want to go back. You wanted to be with people your own age, you wanted friends. You think i’d go insane to spend another week trapped in that place.

“So,” a new voice creeped up in your ears. You both come to a stop and you find yourself looking up. A new girl. She was beautiful but her harsh glare and muscles set a shiver down your spine. Her eyes looked you up and down causing you to shift uncomfortably.

“She’s finally out of her cage.” Her teeth poked out from her smile and for some reason it reminded you of a shark or a lion…like she hunted pray for fun, and you were her next kill.

“Clarisse, lovely to see you.” The man smiled softly but his voice sounded different like a warning of some sort. “We are just going back, is there anything you need?” You throat goes dry when she starts to step closer to you.

“What is she? No one at camp knows but you guys seem to,” you play with your fingers under her almost threatening gaze. You remember one glare like that…Ares had one.

Not that you ever met him really but there was a dream. You were in a place with thrones around you and people sat amongst them and screamed at each other. Not much did you catch or remember of what was said, almost like you were meant to. But the subject did revolve around you.

“Tell me, what are you?” That’s when things clicked in your mind. Someone had asked that before.

“That’s enough. Go back to your cabin—”

“I’m a heartrender.”

The pair stare at you before moving their wide eyes up. You feel your blood pump faster and a growing confidence and remember who you were. Slowly coming down from high you felt, you notice their gaze wasn’t on you anymore but just above you.

“What?” You asked before taking a glance above you and see something shining bright above you. Stepping back you found yourself confused…no god was your parent, you weren’t a half blood. So why was one claiming you…

Thunder could be heard and rumbled underneath your feet. This couldn’t be right.

“That’s impossible..”

A peacock feather hung above your head in all its glory.

Taglist @maria699669 @gorgeourrific-nerd @alliriseabove @targaryenluvs @theaaeht @dabalyuteeeftia @weepingwitchofthewest @iris1587 @tulipmagnoliaisme @ameliashideout @purplerose291 @poppyflower-22 @riaaavm

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moonit3 · 5 months

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Can I get a uhhhhh dragon yandere (it's ok if u don't btw!! I just love getting presents and the unusual)

yes, you can get a yandere dragon, anon.

WARMTHLESS

➥ warnings/notices: yandere male, obsession, manipulation, kidnapping, forced relationship, age gab (like the dragon is imortal and reader is a young adult), there is a child here, gn! reader, readers uses a cane later in the story, implied violence, implied death.

➥ yandere! dragon x gn! reader

➥ synopsis: the great dragon of the south never expected to become a caretaker of a human child, but luckily he has someone to help him with the task.

➥ a/n: did I love writing this one? yes. however, be warned that it takes a while to the yandere show up his tendencies as I try to make this one feel more ‘realistic’, to make the dragon slowly fall in love with reader with everything going on with their lifes. also, be aware this is quite long.

the great dragon of the south always lived by himself since the beginning of humanity. staying by his own lair on the coldest mountains, he spend most of his cleaning his treasures and watching the humans from a village nearby the mountains.

it’s a lonely life, but that was dragon made for, to live by themself til one day their bodies stop working and then to ascend to the afterlife. that’s what oberon’s ancestors told him, he is destined to be a lonely dragon til his last breath on earth, but that changed after a day.

during the coldest winter that passed in earth, oberon was waking throughout the abandoned path once used by merchants and to his surprise, he finds a human shelter. it’s destroyed, corpses are everywhere and so is blood. what did happened here? it couldn’t be simply raiders who attacked, the marks on the now dead bodies shows sharp claws and the scene is too messy to be made by humans.

his eyes notice one the tents moving, so he steps closer to see what is inside and he made a great discovery. a baby.

“oh, a tiny human.” shaping into his human form, oberon hold the children into his arms as gently as possible and analyze the little one. few drops of blood in their face and despite everything, they aren’t crying like he thought they would. “a brave one, i see…”

the first thing that came to his head was going to village nearby and hand the child to the people there, hoping to find a living relative to raise them. however, there is too much snow for him to travel and using his dragon form is out of question, it would only scary the villagers. so another idea came to his mind, he would take care of the child in meanwhile until the weather changes for good.

inside his lair, the great dragon managed to make a makeshift bed for the tiny human made of old vests and fur of ancient animals he once hunted for fun. despite not being the most appropriate place to a baby rest, the little one probably found to be comfortable as their eyes closed in seconds, leaving oberon alone with his thoughts.

why would an expedition bring a baby with them? any human should know how the cold mountains aren’t a suitable place for a newborn, but he can’t ask it as the child’s probably parents are dead, meaning that he will have to go the humans’ village soon.

the next morning, before the sun raise on the sky, oberon put the heaviest coat to cover his human form and the little one who rest on a handmade baby sling on his chest. with that, he began walking down the mountain and sing a sweet melody to the child stay calm during the trip, it’s working as the two made their way to the village.

step by the step and a three hours late, oberon arrived at the small village after a snowstorm had calm a little, luckily no house or building seems to be torn apart. and pulling the hood down, the baby awake by the soft light of the sun and their giggles made the dragon smile as both approach the closest house.

he knocks at the door and someone opens it quickly, “oh my! what are you doing in a weather like this? please, come in.” oberon enters the tiny house and takes off the hoodie when the door closed behind him. “take a cup of tea, dear traveler.”

the dragon observes how small is the house. the bed serves the same purpose of a couch to watch the fireplace and the only walls inside are the one to separe the bathroom from the rest of the home. it’s so small, but it’s fit a human to live in comfort on their own.

“thank you for let us in.” oberon sit on the edge of the bed, carefully holding the baby and put them to rest on the warm blankets. with his hands now free, he removes his heavy coat and grab a cup of tea to take a sip from it. “may I ask if you have anything to feed a child? if that isn’t too much to ask, my fruits are long gone to the child’s belly.”

“I do have some berries,” the gentle voice of the human make oberon smile, this person simply didn’t notice the horns on his head or they just don’t care at all? “and I think that I might have some strawberries that I brought some days ago…”

as you search for the fruits, oberon analysis the interior of the house. there are a few portraits on the walls, photos that include you with other people he believes to be your family. it’s something that oberon envy from most humans, they can have family and relationships without worrying about immortality, as they live together til the end. while dragons get to live forever with one at their side.

“here I found some, mr…”

“oberon, just oberon.”

a small basket of fruits is now at his side, waiting to be eaten by the time when the child wakes up later. for now, the two share true same roof til the snowstorm ends and for what it’s look, they will have to be together for a while.

“so, why did you came to the village? the snowstorm won’t stop anytime soon and bringing a child so young isn’t the best idea.” the human pour another cup of tea to the dragon before taking a seat on a close chair to take a better look at the baby. “this child isn’t your, am i right?”

“indeed. i found them at destroyed campsite at the mountains, their parents are long gone.” the smile on the human’s face vanish by his words, sad about the true reality of the baby’s parents. “i would take care of the child on my own, but i lack the ability to raise them as I don’t know to take care of another living being.”

oberon felt guilty for what he is going to say next, but he has too. “could you help me raise them? just for a brief amount of time and then i can leave afterwards.”

the humans stay quiet, taking about the proposal gave by the dragon, unaware of his true intentions, “well, it’s sound a good deal.” a smile grown on their lips, a tint red on their cheeks of the idea of getting close to the mysterious man.

“then it’s a deal, mx…?”

“call me [name] and you are?”

“oberon, just oberon.”

times goes on as oberon began to raise the little girl at your side, feeling happy knowing that you let stay at your home without expecting anything in return. it’s a generous act and the dragon knows that not many people would be as nice as you, so he makes sure to keep his value at your small house.

you continue doing the hard work such as cutting the wood for the fireplace to keep the house warm, fishing at the frozen river, going for the market to exchange your products to supplies for the cold winter, that’s your role in the house. while oberon become the main caregiver for the young girl, learning how to take of a baby who always need his attention, changing diapers and teaching her the old tales of mythological creatures he once meet in his dragon form.

life is going smooth, oberon can’t deny that. having someone to help him raise a human kid in an environment with other children sounds better than raising it at his lair, where no one would know their presence. but this life isn’t going too good for you, he can see the dark circles growing under your eyes for working long hours and he notice how sometimes the money wasn’t enough to cover the food, so you would just starve yourself to let him and the child eat. an generous, but foolish act as he doesn’t need to eat as much human does.

“you should eat more, oberon.” that you always say to him every time you give your barely touched plate of food to him. “taking care of a child on your own requires more energy than fishing.”

he tries to talk about it with you, but Oberon always lose the discussion as you give that sweet smile to him. the same smile you have when playing with the child after a long day of working, the very same smile that he has seeing for the last two years. you have endure so much because of him and the kid, oberon feels guilty about it. he sees himself as a failure for not giving or making your life easier, maybe things will change for good when the three of you start living at his lair back at the mountains.

it was another day of work for you and definitely it was exhausting as there war almost nothing that you fished today. the villagers didn’t brought any the tiny fishes you offered, but they felt compassion knowing that you are the sole provider of the house, so they handed you the food they didn’t sell. it was a great gift as you won’t ever forget about it.

going back to your home, you’ve expected to be welcome by the child’s hugs and oberon’s sweet words, asking about your work. however, that didn’t happened. walls empty of the many family’s portraits, the clothes oberon sewed missing, food is gone and the worse, none of them are here. almost like they were nothing, but hallucinations.

you yelled their name, searching the surrounding area of the cabin as the snow gets heavier and the wind colder. there are no footprints of them, no trace of they could’ve been, perhaps your mind is playing tricks. if so, how can you stop it and how can you find the two most important people of your life?

the idea of them simply vanish made you uncomfortable, made you cry in the middle of the snow and scream of frustration. things got worse and you have no idea of to fix it. but a thought came to mind, maybe they went to the village to buy firewood when you were out.

the small chance of seeing them made you get up from the cold snow and clean the tears away from face, ready to go back to the village and ask the others.

unfortunately that never happened.

claws met your shoulder and in a blink of eyes, a dragon began to fly away from your cabin. his wing flapping and creating strong winds as you desperately try to get away from it. you try to yell for help, but the dragon was too high in the sky to anyone hear you scream and no one would be a fool to help you in this situation. so you had no other option than just stay still and hope for the creature don’t drop you. the high ground made you dizzy and without option, your eyes closed by the moment you saw the clouds.

above the clouds and hide from danger, there is a lair of the great dragon do the south. he lives there’s along with two another people and those are his most important treasures, ones that he will never let it go.

the travelers brave enough to climb up there to exchange good with oberon, report the two people living with him are completely opposite.

the oldest, the spouse, always wearing the same expression in the face of tiredness. they use a cane to walk around the lair (now transformed into a cozy home) and some more aware travelers could see the scar on the spouse’s leg. it’s huge, definitely the reason why they need to use a cane to move.

some ask how them how was the accident, curious about the reason behind it. the spouse always replied there was a slippery ice that resulted in them becoming this way, yet some travelers doubt that by seeing fear in their eyes when answering it the dragon is always watching them talking with outsiders, but none pushed forward to know the truth.

and the second treasure is his daughter. an energetic and intelligent girl who is always reading about the world outside, dreaming to go out and explore the many places from the books she have read. her eyes sparkle whatever a traveler tell about the magnificent places she could visit when getting older and she is always writing in her journals about it.

and that’s what she did. finally of age, the little girl now grown as a smart and kind lady left the lair to adventure herself into the unknown. she doesn’t forget about to send magic letters (that literally just spawn at the lair) to her parents, telling about the world and the numerous cultures she has learned.

it’s great to know their daughter is doing okay, but for the great dragon, something is missing of the lair. it’s the silence that irritates him, the lack of a reason behind those make his spouse act happy and joyful with him and the fact they are begging to see the outside world again. it’s been years since the dragon let them walk at the mountain’s feet and the last time they did, the human tried something idiot and got to use the cane for their rest of their life.

they began to make him angry, always asking to be outside for just a little and they won’t stop talking about it! the dragon wanted to keep them occupied to ever think about it and so he found a way to chain them inside the lair once again.

one day, returning to the lair after flying around the southern region, the dragon brought someone else in his arms, a baby. the view of a small figure in the arms of their husband made the human just stare at it, fully scared to ask why there is blood on the child’s face, but brave enough to ask why he brought a kid to the lair.

“it’s our second born, my dear.” what? “you looked so sad after our daughter left, so I believe that being parents once again will make us happier, closer and of course, you will stop nagging about brainless things of going outside. now, you should give our baby a bath, right? I will make dinner for the three of us.”

@moonit3 writings

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whereireid · 1 year

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

series masterlist | avatar masterlist

pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader

Summary: After mating with Tonowari, you experience a glimpse of domesticated bliss. Grateful that you’ve chosen a doting mate, you bask in your relationship, despite the insecurities that plague you regarding his old mate, Ronal. After you confess this to him, he decides to show you just how over her he truly is.

— warnings: age gap (21/yo reader) mutual pining, plot, family drama time oops, mentions of insecurity, reader doesn't feel worthy of being tonowari's mate, fluff, smut, dead ronal, bathing ! nsfw content (bc this wouldn't be a sex pollen fic if it was sfw 🙄) nipple sucking, brief mention of tonowari having lactation kink, fingering, orgasm denial, oral sex [f recieving] p in v, mating, breeding kink.

There is no longer a fire which blazes within you.

You wonder how there ever even was to begin with. Surrounded by water, your flame should have been snuffed out the minute that it was sparked. The cool breeze of the reef should have blown out the flicker before it began to burn wildly.

The irayo flower — a token of your homeland, beautiful with its lavender purple and tulip pink hues — had a side effect so dangerous that it caused a sickly fever to pulsate through the Metkayina leader. A fever that no medicine could cure. A fever, cooled by only your touch and your touch alone.

Inside of you, there is silence. Despite the fact your face no longer burns with heat whenever you gaze at the Metkayina leader, you still drown in desire and want. Tonowari is sleeping, cocooned by his hammock, a peaceful expression clouding his face as his chest rises and falls slowly, soft breaths leaving his mouth.

You wonder if the sea had claimed you before you had claimed it. You knew your sisters and brothers had no trouble adapting — Lo'ak felt more at home here than he had in the tribunal forests of your homeland, and Kiri felt comfortable and in touch with Ewya wherever she went. Neteyam, the mighty warrior, had adapted quickly to the new hunting rituals, bringing home many pounds of fish, and Tuk had impressively learnt in days how to weave items of clothing by using Metkayina flora.

They'd adapted properly, using their labour to find a way to fit in, and though your family would always be outcasts — with your five fingers a contrast to their four, a constant reminder that you are alien — their labour proved their worth. They were accepted.

Though you're smiling at the thought of your brothers and sisters, your heart tugs — how would they react to the news? When your father had hounded you to find a mate, he surely meant someone more... age-appropriate. Your father certainly did not mean that he wanted you to mate with someone whom he often drank Pongu Lumpia with.

Shaking your head, your fingers close around your robe. It's a maroon red, woven by Tuk with flora she'd found in a cave on the reef. It cocoons you into a shield of warmth, hiding you from the cool ocean breeze which rustles throughout Tonowari's marui. The cold air causes him to stir in his sleep, the coolness a sharp contrast to his heated body.

You watch as he grumbles in discontent, his ears twitching in annoyance, your own flittering upwards in anticipation. "Tonowari," you whisper, edging towards the Metkayina leader, your fingers darting over his thighs when you reach his hammock. "The sun is rising. You must wake soon."

"It has not risen, yet. Come to bed, little one. I miss your warmth."

Tonowari's voice is groggy, ridden with sleep, and you hesitate, your fingers lingering on his strong thighs. "We must tell my parents—"

"—We will tell them later. Join me, for now. We will do whatever you wish when the sun has risen."

You pout in disproval, though you listen. The hammock is comfortable, adapting to your weight as you sink inside of it, and you squeak slightly as Tonowari's strong arms wrap around your frame. "You're so warm, little one," he grunts, his voice rumbling in his chest as he speaks, his nose nuzzling against your own. "It must be because of that robe."

Goosebumps flicker up your skin as Tonowari's hand begin to sneak underneath your garment. His fingers make lewd movements, darting from your abdomen up towards your chest, a shiver ghosting up your spine as his thumb flicks over your nipples, which harden as the cool breeze begins to wash over your frame.

"Would you like for me to take it off?" You moan, and it sounds so sweet that Tonowari's cock throbs with need. Your heart hammers in your chest as his deep blue eyes bore into your own, his finger gently begging to roll your nipple between his fingers.

"I do not want you to get cold, little one," Tonowari mumbles, his breath flittering against your chest as he dips his head, his lips peppering gentle kisses against your skin. "Keep it on."

There's a foreign sensation that crackles through you once Tonowari's lips wrap around one of your nipples. As he gently begins to suck, you gasp, your body jolting towards his as an overbearing feeling of electricity pulses through you. It bites at every nerve, making your body throb with electricity.

"Oh." You mewl, your face growing insatiably hot as Tonowari hums against your nipple, your eyes shutting tightly as he purrs against your skin. "This feels—"

"—Good," he finishes your sentence, pulling away from your breasts, a lewd trail of spit following him. Your gaze flickers down towards him, and you wishes you hadn't even bothered looking, because a moan catches in your throat when you see his swollen lips and lust-filled eyes trailing over your body.

Tonowari's tongue wets his lips, before he dips his head to latch his mouth around your nipple again. It's a strange sensation, to say the least. You've never really explored yourself there before — but now you're really wishing you had.

You squirm under Tonowari's touch, and a moan catches in your throat, but you're unsure of whether or not it actually escapes your lips or dies before it gets to do so. His lips wrap around your sensitive nub, careful as his sharp teeth begin to graze softly against the bundle of nerves, and your hands instinctively fall down to his head, your fingers running over his braids as he laps at your nipple.

Tonowari's tongue skilfully swirls around your nipple, and warmth pools in your lower belly as he begins to grow eager, his hands darting down towards your loincloth. "Please," you beg, though you're not exactly sure what you're begging for. Warmth curls at every nerve inside of you as his fingers disappear under your loincloth, your breath still in your chest as you try to anticipate his next move.

“Breathe, little one,” Tonowari utters, his fingers gently brushing over your slits, the sensation making you melt with warmth.

You nod and try to steady your breathing. Tonowari is still and it's driving you crazy — your hips instinctively buck against his fingers, and a breathy whine escapes your mouth. He shoots you an unimpressed look, and you blush. Once your breathing is even, Tonowari continues. Though the soft flickers of his brows are knitted together and his eyes are somewhat narrowed from your eager bucking, his touch is gentle, his wet, warm mouth wrapped around your nipples, his tongue beginning to flicker again.

Every nerve inside of you is lit, blazing and burning wildly. His fingers gently part your sticky folds, electricity crackling up your spine as he sucks at your sensitive nipples, his eyes lulling shut soothingly.”

"You are going to be even more needy for this once you're carrying our child," Tonowari says, his fingers gliding up and down your slits, satisfied with how wet and needy your cunt is. "Is this your first time being pleasured in such a way?"

"I've never touched myself there before," you admit hoarsely, shivering as Tonowari nibbles at your bud in response, the sensation sending butterflies fluttering through your stomach. "Just my — my, uh—"

"—Just your cunt. I know, little one. I saw everything when we committed Tsaheylu."

Your face blazes with embarrassment, but Tonowari does not falter. You swallow thickly, a whine catching in your throat as Tonowari's fingers press into your cunt, the curling of his digits making you jolt. The unexpected intrusion makes you mewl in appreciation, your hands pressing eagerly against the back of his head, encouraging him to keep sucking.

It's all you want. The sensation feels electric, and it makes you drown in heat. The air in the marui is scorching, making it difficult to breathe, but you focus on the rising and falling of your chest, not wanting him to stop again.

"I forget how new you are to all of this," he chuckles lowly, the sensation vibrating against you, making you mewl. Insecurity tugs at your heart, because you are new to this — but your mate seems so delighted. "You're so reactive. Tell me, little one, do you like this?"

Tonowari bites at your nipple, and you gasp, rutting into his hand like you're in heat. The sensation makes tears bubble in your eyes, because it stings to have your sensitive bud pressed between his two, sharp canines, but you're so wet that it doesn't matter, a sultry twinge shooting through you at the lewd action.

"Yes, I like it," you mumble drunkenly, your eyes blown and dark, your body craving him. His fingers curl inside of you appreciatively, a soft squelch echoing around the mauri, and he grins against your chest.

"Mmm. You're going to love it once you're with child," he states lowly, his fingers slowly working at your cunt, scissoring you open. "If you're this sensitive now..."

He trails off, unable to finish his sentence, and you let out a breathy moan. Between the lewd curling of Tonowari's fingers and the feeling of his hot mouth suckling at your chest, you feel yourself growing blind. Heat flashes through your body, an insatiable warmth pooling in your stomach as your thighs begin to tense, locking his hand in place as he fingers your cunt.

It feels so good. Tonowari devours you; his entire presence sending shocks shooting through your body. It's so deliciously wrong to have the Metkayina leader sending you into oblivion with his sharp teeth and gentle mouth, and you gasp as you squelch and squirm and clench down around his fingers, your moans mortifyingly loud.

"I need to — Tonowari, please, I need to —" you plead, your eyes beginning to grow heavy and your body edging towards numbness as his teeth catch your nipple again, rolling his rough tongue against the bud gently.

"Breathe." He says, tone so sharp that it feels like a knife, your body prickling with heat as your orgasm approaches; hard and fast and heavy, weighing your body down as you begin to tremble and shake against him.

Your eyes are closed so tight that you see stars. Tonowari's fingers curl inside of you as you attempt to take a deep breath, and you wail, the feeling so overwhelming and good that you begin to cry. Your chest is heaving — really heaving, and your lungs burn with the urge to breathe but you just can't, and despite Tonowari's reminder earlier, you’ve forgot.

Your body writhes beneath him. You wriggle, pleading for air because each stroke of his fingers and flicker of his tongue makes it impossible to breathe. You can't even think anymore, so dumb from the hot sparks which shroud your body into what you thought to be unattainable bliss that your nerves grow numb.

"Little one, you need to breathe," Tonowari repeats, but your ears are ringing and you can't hear him because his teeth are rolling over your nipples and he's sucking so good and his fingers are curling inside of your cunt so tortuously. You can't hear anything except for your own blood pumping inside of you and the shameful squelching of your cunt, and you hump against his fingers eagerly.

Just when you're on the brink of cumming, just as you suck in air and begin to shake and convulse, he stops.

You begin to gasp for air, writhing against his chest, your eyes tired and heavy as all of his movements stop. Tonowari pulls away from your chest, his look of disapproval burning through you.

"You forgot to breathe," he says accusatory. Your eyes peek over him, and your breath stills in your chest again. Tonowari's eyes are so blown that his irises are being swallowed, leaving just a thin ring of the aqua-blue around the edge.

"I'm sorry. Felt too good," you mumble breathy, your fingers splayed over Tonowari's head, pushing him eagerly towards your chest. "Please?"

He frowns, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I cannot please you if you do not breathe."

"I will breathe, yawne," you utter desperately, beginning to hump at his fingers. "I promise you I will breathe. Please, Tonowari, I need to feel good."

His lips press against your neck. His mouth is warm and wet, and he suckles slightly, a shiver spreading throughout you as he laps at the skin. Tonowari begins to pepper his kisses down towards your chest, leaving gentle bruises in the wake of his lips, and your body instinctively presses against him as his mouth brushes against your nipples.

"You're so good, yawne," you praise, your eyelids growing heavy as his lips reattach to your nipples, hot sparks exploding throughout your body. "So good to me."

You focus on your breathing this time — in, out, in out, in out. Tonowari's fingers curl inside of you again, and it's back to square one. Except, not really. You're so hypersensitive that as his teeth graze against your nipple, teasing and deliberate, you cunt clenches, and Tonowari grunts.

He's so hard that it physically hurts him. The lavender tip of his cock is leaking with pre-cum, but he doesn't even bother to move in an attempt to fist himself free of the shackles of his own desire for an orgasm. Tonowari is so focused on you and what makes you feel good, which just so happens to be anything he does.

You're appreciative of the fact that he's focusing on your pleasure rather than his own. Tonowari explores you, his tongue darting across your skin, goosebumps rising in it's wake, before returning back to your sensitive, swollen nipples.

Your chest feels so tight. Your heart hammers, pounding, and you focus on your breathing, making sure to satisfy Tonowari. You feel his cock, hard and rigid, pressed up against your thighs, as you try to brush against him but it's impossible. You can't move, pinned under his weight, under the feeling of his delicious tongue which swirls skilfully around your nipples and the curling of his fingers.

"I'm going to —"

"Do it."

You whimper, nodding eagerly at his words, dragging your lips between your teeth. It all feels too good, too much, and you begin to convulse. Warmth spreads throughout your abdomen, your cunt growing even slicker as he fingers you, rolling into the spongy spot inside of you with ease.

It feels like a knot is violently unraveling inside of you. Your breathing becomes unsteady, uneven; manic and quick. The knot feels like it's being ripped apart. Snapped and torn and frayed.

You let go of everything. You feel nothing but him. His touch is ecstasy, and you feel divine, holy as you cum.

The rays of the sun blind you as you come undone around him. Twitching, jolting, shaking. You're blazed with pleasure, dumb with need, and Tonowari's ears twitch eagerly, listening to every moan and cry that spews past your lips.

You blink, hazily, your breathing uneven as his fingers pull out of you, his mouth still suckling on your breasts. Tonowari groans, his hands grabbing at your skin, squeezing your hips tightly.

Confusion clouds you as Tonowari’s hips judder against your thighs, a gasp of realisation slipping past your lips as his hard cock pulls away from your plump flesh. He’s came — his own breathing is uneven and steady, and he’s left a painting of sticky cum against your skin. His ears pin tightly against his head, but he doesn’t seem embarassed at all. It’s like this is a totally normal thing for him.

And maybe it is. But it’s not for you. Your eyes are wide in shock, your fingers still as they press against Tonowari’s chest. His face is now inches away from yours, and he has a satisfied, smug grin plastered across his lips.

“Was that good, little one? Did that satisfy you?”

“You came.” You say, bewildered, your hands shaking as they press against his chest, your brows knitted together in confusion. “How — Why did you —“

“Your pleasure is my pleasure, yawne.” Tonowari mumbles, and the term of endearment makes your heart soar. “This is not unusual for me.”

As always, you frown. Tonowari is referring to his previous encounters, with his previous mate. Jealousy pricks at your heart and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to fill such big shoes. You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the feeling of his fingers pinching you cheek, and you scowl, your tail thrashing behind you.

“You like making me feel good?” You ask timidly, eyes crinkling as the sun blinds you, hiding yourself in Tonowari’s chest.

“It is what I enjoy doing the most. Pleasuring my mate is my greatest pleasure.” Tonowari affirms, shooting you a loving smile before his head turns to the entrance of the mauri, his eyes squinting from the sun. “I wish we could continue, little one, but the sun has risen.”

The sun has risen. You pout, somewhat disappointed that it can’t continue, because your body still feels electric from where he’d been pleasuring you. “It’s time to tell my family about us,” you say breathlessly, and Tonowari grins.

“Yes, it is.”

The walk back to Tonowari's marui is solemn. Whilst your father had disapproved, at least at first, he'd shrunk into himself once you'd told him that you and Tonowari had committed Tsaheylu, now bound together for life. It's somewhat ironic — Jake Sully cannot criticise you for who you'd chosen your mate to be. Your father had not only stolen your mother from Tsu'tey, a mighty warrior of the Omatikaya, he'd also been actively working against your community and your culture when doing so.

Eventually, your father accepted. Although he almost keeled over in the process, he'd accepted.

Tonowari didn't celebrate the way you thought he would. He just nodded his head and thanked your father for approving, and then turned heel and left.

And you'd followed him.

That's how you've ended up here.

The floor is almost scorching, and you shuffle forwards in discontent. Despite living in Awa'atlu for a few months, you still haven’t quite gotten used to the insatiable heat. You feel sweaty, uncomfortable, and your heart tugs as your mate pulls you towards his marui, your eyes flickering over towards him.

He hadn't even celebrated. Maybe it was because he knew your parents couldn't exactly deny you of him — Ewya had approved of your bond, and he is also Olo'eyktan. This is his clan, and you are his mate.

But... maybe that wasn't the case. And you don't want to think this way, you truly don't, but a little voice is in the back of your head is telling you that he didn't celebrate because he'd been through all of this before. Tonowari, perhaps, didn't celebrate because he had no need to — he'd been mated before, with Ronal, and he'd probably went with her to tell her parents, also. And he'd probably celebrated then, because she was the love of his life and she was supposed to be his mate forever.

You grimace, pushing your doubtful thinking away. You know of Ronal. She was a strict Tshaìk, yet a loving mother. A fierce leader. Her connection with Ewya was strong, and your heart pulls in your chest as Tonowari's fingers intertwine with yours.

There's an ounce of comfort in the small gesture. Safety. Your ears pin backwards and you look away, your eyes fleeting over every grain of sand as an excuse to not look at him.

The reef is booming with life. Children run, and parents chase them. Nobody even looks your way — Tonowari had promised you that they wouldn't. Until your bond is announced, nobody would think that you were both seeing each other, rather just assuming that he was just guiding you somewhere.

When you see the familiar, curvy triangular shape of the marui, your ears prick upwards. You try to stop at the entrance, needy for rest, but Tonowari's strides don't falter, until your hands slip from one another's grasp.

"Why have you stopped, little one?” Tonowari asks, his voice gentle as he eyes you suspiciously.

You hesitate under his pointed gaze, shuffling on your feet. "I thought we were going back home."

"I have something I want to show you," he utters, offering out his hand. "Come on, little one.”

"Where are we going?”

"I will show you. Come on."

You pause, eyes flickering from the marui to your mate, before you begrudgingly accepting his hand. Despite the two of you both being Na'vi, the size difference is overwhelming — Tonowari towers over you by a couple of feet, and his hand is so big that it sheathes the both of yours.

Minutes pass, and there is only silence. There is no conversation shared between the two of you. Tonowari holds your hand proudly, guiding you towards the rocky reefs. The slippery surface of the rocks makes your heart patter in your chest fearfully — you still hadn't quite gotten used to the feeling of slimy seaweed on your feet, and your hesitant steps are proof of that.

"You have not yet adapted," Tonowari chuckles, his grip on you strong as he guides you between two rocks, that stand tall and mighty.

"It's not that easy." You mumble, shivering as cold washes over you as the rocks begin to hide the sun.

He smiles. "You will learn soon, little one."

As your eyes adjust to the loss of sunlight, you can't help the awe that tugs at your heartstrings as you realise where Tonowari has taken you.

In your homeland, there was no such thing as a private, docile place to clean. All of the Omatikaya, including the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk, used a communal lake to bathe. Although the clan leaders were allowed to bathe alone, the others bathed together. There was just simply not enough water in the forest for the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk to have a personal, intimate area to clean and bathe together.

But here — in the reefs — there is nothing but water.

"What is this?" you whisper, your skin crawling with goosebumps as Tonowari presses his lips to your forehead gently.

"What do you think?" Tonowari quips back, watching as your nose crinkles as you breathe in the husky, earthy smell, your eyes scanning over the deep, pear-shaped entrance of the shelter.

There's something so intimate about how Tonowari guides you. His hands are resting on your shoulders, eagerly pushing you towards into the cave, your eyes falling on the downwards curve of the floor, which transcends into a pool of milky, steaming water.

"Is this yours?"

Your mate smiles, his nose nuzzling into your neck, his fingers slipping down towards your loincloth, gently beginning to untie its knot. "It is ours," he states, his face illuminated only by the blue and green bioluminescence moss which laps at the sides of the pool. "I heard from your father that in your homeland, the Olo'eyktan and Tsahìk did not have their own private bathing quarters."

"When did you hear that?"

"JakeSully loves to complain when he's intoxicated. Pongu Lumpia makes him even more insufferable than usual," Tonowari grunts, smiling as your loincloth drops to the floor, leaving you bare in front of him. "He feels that as Toruk Makto he is worthy of privacy."

Tonowari's freckles are glowing in the dim light of the cave. “I say that he gave up the title of a mighty warrior when he fled his home.”

You try not to giggle, but it’s really, really hard. Tonowari has always been critical of your father, and his small joke actually allows you to bask in a sense of comfort.

Warmth cocoons you as he ushers you into the pool of milky water, watching as you submerge yourself. The silky hot water is perfect, and your face flushes with a light sheen of sweat and embarrassment as your mate begins to undress himself.

He stands so proud as he shows himself to you. You feel warm and gooey as he traipses into the water, and you try to focus on anything but him. There’s a slight lingering feeling of dread which pulses through you, ruining the slightly intimate moment, because you know deep down that Tonowari had shown Ronal this exact cave before.

The cool, fluorescent algae illuminates the cave, and there's a low, bioluminescence glow shining from beneath the milky substance in the water. It's beautiful in the cave, and pieces of moss glow like stars above you.

Your heart tugs in your chest as Tonowari's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer towards him in the water. "What is on your mind, little one?" He asks, pressing a soft kiss to your wet temple, his lashes long and damp, soaked from the water. "You have been quiet ever since we left JakeSully’s marui."

The blissful solitude shrouds you, and you let your head hang on his chest, which has a shines turquoise from the water. "Nothing. I'm fine, Tonowari," you mumble, shooting him a gentle smile as he embraces you, his braids sticking to the wet skin of his back.

"You do not seem fine," he grumbles, careful as he picks up some circular moss which resided on the rocks. He squeezes the soft green plush, gentle as he begins to excrement soap from it, rolling it between his fingers. As soapy duds begin to form, he hums, rolling the moss against your skin, using gentle circular motions when he washes you. "Do you wish to tell me what is bothering you, little one?"

Tonowari's interaction with your father keeps replaying inside your head. Everytime it repeats, your heart pulls, cracks in half, and you can't tell if you're being dramatic or emotional or what. Tonowari hadn't reacted, he hadn't celebrated, he hadn't even smiled when he got your father's approval.

Because he'd been through it all before. With Ronal.

As he's washing you, soft in his motions as he rolls the soapy moss against your skin, all you can think about is how he's done this before with someone else. It plagues you. It's like a sickness.

"Yawne, I cannot help if you do not say anything," he says softly, beginning to cup the milky water in his hands, his ears twitching as the water trickles your skin.

“How are you over her?”

“Over who?”

“Ronal.”

Tonowari pauses for a brief second, before continuing to wash the duds off of your skin. Your voices echo around you, bouncing off of the cave walls, and your face flushes when his hands gently begin to massage your shoulders.

“She died a long time ago, little one. I cannot live in solitude and mourn any longer. She is with Ewya now.”

“But you’re supposed to mate for life. You’re — you’re still here. She’s still your mate.”

Tonowari frowns, his motions gentle and circular, his thumbs riding down to your back, focusing on a tight knot between your shoulder blades. “You are my mate.”

The silky hot water mixed with Tonowari’s fluid motions is an incredible soother. You feel like all of your tension is melting away, and despite the self-doubt and insecurity which flitters throughout you, you find yourself relaxing.

“But so is she.” You’re exasperated, confused.

You knew Tonowari had been mated before. You knew all of this before you chose him.

So why now, when you’re in too deep, are you having second thoughts?

“You are my mate.” Tonowari’s voice is soft, fleeting against your ear. “Do you need me to remind you of just how badly I want you, little one?” His breath fans against your skin, sending goosebumps down your spine and your stomach flips at his words.

You shake your head, a gentle gasp slipping past your lips as Tonowari turns you, his grip on your shoulders harsh as he does so. His palm squeezes your skin uncomfortably, and your breath hitches in your throat as his eyes bore into yours, so black and blown that the ring of ocean blue is barely visible.

“No, Tonowari. I don’t need a reminder.” Your voice is hoarse as you speak, wavering slightly as Tonowari’s nose nuzzles against your shoulder. “I know I’m your mate.”

“I do not think that you’re aware of how badly I’ve wanted you, little one.” His fingers dance against your skin, and his arms become submerged by the hot, silky water. Tonowari's hands cup your thighs, his body ushering you to the edge of the pool, and you squeak as you feel mossy rocks press against your back. "Ever since you came to the reef, I have not been able to keep my eyes off of you, and the second you gave me that irayo flower... it was the greatest excuse to get close to you."

"Excuse?" you murmur, breathless as his strong arms sit you against the rocks, his nose rubbing against your inner thighs. "What do you mean, excuse?"

Tonowari's teeth graze against your skin and you whine, your heart pitter-patting in your chest as his rough tongue laps at your skin, leaving dark-coloured bruises in its wake. “It hurt, yawne, more than you’d ever know. And like I told you — I was rutting like a newly mated Na’vi, and the only relief I got was when I would see you, and that is when I knew you were sent to me. From Ewya.”

“Oh,” you breathe, your heart tightening in your chest as Tonowari’s lips press against your cunt. His tongue laps at you eagerly, the rough muscle parting your slits, and a gentle whine slips past your mouth as he does so. Hot, electric sparks shoot up your skin, and your legs jolt slightly as his tongue swirls gently around your clit. “Tonowari.”

“You wonder why I chose you,” he purrs against your cunt, the vibration sending shockwaves through your pussy. “I wonder how you could ever choose me.”

The intimacy of Tonowari between your legs makes your stomach clench. Despite being recently mated, he hasn’t had an incredibly high libido — you haven’t snuck off to rut at every possible chance, rather having an even and steady sex life. But this — the way he’s nuzzling against your cunt, licking and lapping and sucking at the heat sloppily shows something different a

A primal side to him you haven’t seen before.

He's grunting, and you look down for a second, confused as to why he’s making noses. Then you notice his hand, which strokes up and down his cock in a steady motion. Tonowari is pleasuring himself whilst pleasuring you, and you moan, so conflicted to how a man can make you feel so horny.

Tonowari's tongue draws patterns on your clit, and his breathing becomes heavy as he strokes his cock, his eyes lulling as he laps at your cunt. He's so eager to please, kissing your heat softly, listening to every mewl and whine, and your stomach begins to twist, growing insatiable with every roll of his tongue.

And then you feel it — the knot inside of you begins to break, twist apart, fray at the hem. It's so peaceful this time, so satisfactory, and your moans bounce off of the cave walls as you cum, your hands behind Tonowari's head, pushing his face into your cunt needily. You hump against him like you're in heat, the feeling of his rough tongue stroking you through your orgasm making you shake.

"I must show you how much you mean to me, yawne," he comments, his voice shaking slightly as he strokes his uncomfortably hard cock with need. "Can I breed you?"

"Breed me?" You ask, exasperation lacing your tone as Tonowari joins you on the rocks, his strong hands pinning you underneath his body.

"That is what I asked, is it not?" He utters, his body sheathing your view of the bioluminescent moss which litters the top of the cave, shrouding your vision with black. The only light you have comes from the light-blue specks on his face, and a breathy moan leaves your mouth as Tonowari's cock glides through your slits, an unexpected jolt of electricity shooting up your spine.

"I'm just confused as to why you asked. We've done this before."

"I want you to carry my child, little one," he grumbles, a low groan sliding past his plush, sapphire lips as his tip rolls against your clit. "This is not just making the bond. I will be doing this with the intention of you growing plump with life."

You literally can't imagine anything hotter than being swollen and filled with Tonowari's children. You can't speak, the feeling of his tip rolling against your clit sending electric sparks fluttering through your nervous system. "Please," you squeak out, your heart burning with desire as his girthy tip presses against your entrance, your tight cunt beginning to sheathe his lavender tip.

"You are going to look so beautiful when I'm finished with you," Tonowari hisses, his stomach tight as his hips begin to roll into you, even and steady. "So beautiful, carrying our children, whilst practicing to become Tshaìk. I chose well."

Everything feels raw and sensitive. Your cunt clenches down around him, your senses somehow heightened in the dampness of the cave. Steam from the hot pool of milky water begins to evaporate, your skin covered with an aqua blue sheen from the condensation. Pressure pools in your lower belly, your ears twitching with every roll of his hips, your cunt tight when the tip of his cock brushes deliciously against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt.

It feels so liberating, knowing that he wants you. Truly wants you. You're not just a replacement — each needy thrust of his hips tell you that. Tonowari's fingers desperately grab at your queue, and you whine at the uncomfortably tug, but hot white flashes spark through your nerves system when his tendrils connect with yours.

Holy shit. This feels so much better than when he first ever bonded with you, and your legs shake as he stretches you thin. It's so painful but so amazing. His cock is nestled deep inside of your cunt, and you're so slick, so wet, droplets forming on your skin from where the reside of the water is beginning to dry. Tonowari's movements are smooth, easy, and your white ring of arousal paints the bottom of his length, coating his balls, and he groans as he fucks into you, his lavender tip throbbing as you clench around him tighter.

"You're made for me," he breathes out, "I cannot believe you ever doubted my love for you."

Through your connection, you can feel his pain. You can feel everything — the pull of his heart as he thinks about how insecure you'd been, and you scold yourself for ever being so silly. Tonowari, your gorgeous, loving mate intertwines his fingers with yours, and you swear you've never felt so good in your life.

You're intertwined with Tonowari in every way possible. Your cunt pulses around him, throbbing with need, and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your shoulder. "Oel ngati kameie," he mumbles, his eyes boring into yours, the black of his pupils so wide and blown you can no longer see any part of his irises. "Yawne, please, talk to me."

"Feels good, Tonowari," you blink, chest heaving as he fucks into you, being careful to focus on your breaths as your body begins to tingle with lust. "Almost ready for you to fill me up."

"Pxasìk," Tonowari curses, his accent thick, drawling in your ear and sending goosebumps exploding on your skin. "I'm ready. You're so — so tight, I can't hold back."

"Earlier all you did was hold back," you tease, moaning as the lewd squelching sounds of your cunt echo around the mossy cave. "Not — not letting me finish because I didn't breathe."

Tonowari is gentle as he slaps your thigh, warningly, a dangerous look painting his face, but it crinkles into something different as you purposefully clench down around him. You're so tight that it's like you're milking him, and you're so wet and warm, it's driving him crazy. "You were being naughty, yawne," he comments, his voice wavering as your eyes begin to flicker shut, your moans hitching in your throat as his hips roll into your sensitive bundle of nerves.

It's the most perfect thing you've ever felt. Neither of you speak as it happens, your orgasm crashing over the both of you in a perfect, delicious wave. You shake, jolt against him, cry out as your vision blackens with white stars, heat exploding through your body, your cunt tightening around him as you feel his seed begin to spurt inside of you. his own cum in you, your walls so tight and wet, the sound of his balls slapping lewdly against your cunt echoing throughout the cave, your moans merging with them to create an orgasmic mixtape.

You're so warm, the steam from the pool mixing with your insatiable heat from being crowded by Tonowari for so long, and he embraces you proudly as you twitch beneath him, your cunt feeling raw and full. He holds you, and his strong presence makes you feel so safe, the feeling of his cum painting your walls making you shiver.

"You are everything to me," he utters, his teeth grazing your neck as his tongue laps at your skin, basking in the slight, salty taste of sea water and sweat. "Please do not doubt that again."

"How can I?" you whisper, grumbling as Tonowari rolls over, positioning you atop of his chest as he lays on the mossy rocks. The blue and green glow from the algae and moss reflect on his face, painting his features, and you smile as you lean down to brush your nose against his, your finger splaying over your belly. "I'm going to have a constant reminder."

taglist: taglist: @moonpie3000 @theycallmesia @lianawolf @love-chx @yataisha @misscaller06 @plzfeedmebread @totesnothere04 @alezarin @thesecretsoftheuniverse @ikranwings @clockmax @lianawolf

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loaksbabyy · 1 year

Text

ours only—sully boys x human!reader

warnings: smut! p in v, oral m receiving! creampie! fingering! squirting! (lmk if i missed anything im literally falling asleep as i post this) MDNI 🔞

a/n: wc: 3.1k, i didn’t proof read well enough sorryyyyyy

you’ve been on pandora for your whole life right along with your older brother spider, too young to get sent back to earth. so throughout the years you’ve adapted, learning to become one of them even though you looked nothing like them.

and surprisingly, people from the omaticaya clan learned to love you. crazy, i know.

as a 9 year old you did a lot, you went on children hunting field trips, with the na’vi kids.you passed all the training tests you ever got, were rewarded with weapons appropriate for your age, and human made loincloths and tops.sometimes, exploring the safe parts of the forest for food to bring back to the lab.

“look norm! I’ve gotten us some banana fruit.” you excitedly shouted placing the large baskets of fruit on the table.

“wow, that’s great y/n! you really are true na’vi.” he complimented, ruffling your hair in the process.you giggled at the feeling before sticking your tongue out at the 2 sully boys that sat in the other room playing with spider.

they rolled their eyes while lo’ak gave you the finger, something he learned from jake.

now the relationship you had with neteyam and loak was something. you didn’t hate each other of course not but you often found yourself teasing them due to you simply being more skilled for a human, and really tall for your age.they were just a couple of inches shorter but it still boosted your ego to be little them and mess with them, even though they were older, you did it just for the fun of it.

but that all changed throughout the years, the picking on them? no. you developed into a young lady, having curves, plump breasts, and a round bottom. you didn’t let that stop you from being the true warrior you were, but neteyam and lo’ak did grow a strong disliking for you as you all grew.

your ego grew bigger and you became more bitcher. this made their blood boil, the two of them wanted nothing more than to fuck some sense back into you, you were a brat and needed taming.

they really had a hard time straining away from taking you and breaking you. the way your body popped from the skimpy clothing, the accessories that laid on your chest having a very hard time keeping your cute little nips covered.

you’d occasionally catch their thirsty stares every time slipped.

“yea kiri told m— oh!” you gasped in embarrassment, cutting the convo you had with tsireya quickly adjusting the beaded piece to shield your tits, not failing to see neteyam and lo’aks eyes on you from the corner of your eye.

“quit looking pervs.” you spat putting them on blast, they instantly shifted their gazes to the ground.

“as if.” neteyam replied back with a snarky remark as you returned your attention back to the convo with tsireya. lo’ak’s eyes never left your toned back, he couldn’t stand you, always thinking you ran something.

“one day, I’m gonna fuck her up.” he promised through gritted teeth, neteyam just let out a dry chuckle at his brother's words.

he wasn’t laughing, he was dead serious.

today jake sent neteyam and loak out on a mission that they failed to complete. your attention was torn from the fruit you were cutting, and was set on jake who was scolding his two sons, you discreetly watched from the tent norm and max put up for you, creeping behind the bushes and seeing neteyam bruised up while lo’ak stood on the side barely even listening to the lecture.

skxawngs, can’t even fucking do a simple mission right, you thought to yourself snickering at the scene that unfolded in front of you.

“you take that shit off your face.” he pointed in lo’aks face

“both of you seat the ikran, you're dismissed..go!” jake shouted shooing them away, your eyes trailied them as you were watching them disappear into the forest. now seemed like the perfect time for teasing those two dumbasses, so you followed them.

their destination was at a waterfall, sitting on two big boulders blaming one another for what went down today. “if you’d just fucking listen we wouldn’t be here!” neteyam stated in a tone laced with anger, lo’ak protested not going for the bull shit his brother was saying.

“i’m fucking tired of always listening to you, some things can go my way.” lo’ak clapped back, neteyam scoffed at that, he never has any smart ideas who on earth would wanna listen to him?

“i think both of you are idiots, with no skills.” you spoke, the two boys not knowing where you came from. they paid you no mind not having the time to be teased and picked on by a fucking human. you titled your head in a cocky manner noticing how they didn’t have a comeback. you inched closer towards them, hands crossed over your chest with a teasing grin.

“not gonna say anything slick.” you asked obviously wanting a rise out of them, neteyam exhaled deeply before locking eyes with you to speak.

“y/n seriously, go away.”

“yea bro, no one has time for you.”

you laughed at how upset and serious they were taking you. you decided to provoke them even more by taking a step further now being arms length within them, you yanked at one of lo’aks braided that dangled in front of his face, and pulled on a couple of neteyam braids they fell freely.

“kehe!” you earned a hiss from both of the boys, you watched as they stood up, towering over you instantly with fists clenched at their sides. you really got a kick at how easily you got under their skins.

“alright alright, i’m done.” you put your hands in ‘surrender’, neteyam was a bit more mature than his brother so he wasn’t ready to crack just yet doesn’t mean he wasn’t there but loak, you had one more thing to say and he swears to ewya he was gonna fuck you up.

“pussies.” was your final word as you proceeded to walk away, which checked out for lo’ak. he forcefully grabbed you by your forearm, pulling you into his grasp and wrapping his veiny hand around your throat, a shaky breath erupted from your throat at the loss of air your lungs received but even after getting almost choked to death you still managed to have a stupid fucking smirk on your face, making lo’ak even madder.

“bro, chill.” neteyam warned carefully looking back n forth at you and his brother, lo’ak breath was ragged, and he pulled you closer to his face, only a couple inches away, flashing his sharp fangs as his mouth parted open slightly.

you swallowed thickly not knowing what to expect from him, you’d never seen him this mad before.“i’ve had enough of you, and that big fucking mouth.” he complained gritting his teeth hard enough to crack a tooth.

“yea? well do something about it.” you spat at him returning the same furious energy. a scoff mixed in with a laugh came from loak, he roughly let go of your neck and reached to the back of your head, getting a firm grip on your hair then shoving you on your knees.

“oh i’m gonna do something alright.”

“ow! fuck!” you cried in pain, he leaned back on the boulder he sat on a couple moments ago untying his loincloth and letting it fall to his ankles, exposing his big fat cock. your eyes widen in thirst and fear, he really didn’t expect you to be able to put that in your mouth or even in you.

“n-neteyam..” a noise much like a whimper came out as you glanced over at his brother with desperate eyes hoping he’d stop his brother from ripping your fucking mouth apart, and of course, he wasn’t against it, he was with it.

“can’t help you baby, now be a good girl and take it.” he ordered standing over you with his arms crossed over his chest, your body went hot knowing there was no way out of this.

“b-but—

“you wanna take both?” he aggressively asked raising his brow, you choked on your spit at the thought of that, rapidly shaking your no head at neteyam before shifting your attention back to lo’ak, who gave you a lazy smirk while massaging his tip.

“open up.” he directed aiming his mushroom-like head at the entrance of your mouth, you took a deep breath ready for what was about to come. instead of you taking the wheel, lo’ak plunged his hefty cock inside your mouth, immediately making you gag at the full feeling in your mouth.

“o-oh fuckkk.” he groaned throwing his head back in pleasure, he began thrusting at a slow pace the quickly sped it up once his dick was coated with your spit, he let out sexy moans and groans as tears welled in your eyes at the burning sensation you felt in the back of your throat, he removed his hand away from your head to where he was no longer guiding you.

“make me cum.” was all he said, you pulled off of his cock making a ‘pop’ noise, you passionately stroked his dick while holding strong eye contact with him, still keeping the stare you gave one another you ducked your head down taking both of his balls in your mouth sucking them in the midst of jerking his cock.

“o-oh my god, just like that! fuckin slut.” he moaned watching you pleasure him like the good girl you were, neteyam crept up from behind you placing little wet kisses on your shoulder and shoulder blades, his hands went to your soaked loincloth rubbing tiny little circles on your clothed cunt, while sucking on your neck.

“don’t cum.” neteyam demanded, completely tearing your loincloth off of your body, and throwing it somewhere in the forest, he poked his slender blue finger at your entrance, collecting some of your slick then slowly pushed his finger in watching your pussy engulf it.

“o-ohhh!”

you let out a strained whine adjusting to the size of neteyam’s finger before kissing lo’ak’s tip, swirling your tongue around it, taking as much as you could leaving your hand to take care of the rest. the only sounds that filled the air were lo’ak’s series of moans and groans, along with the of his cock repeatedly hitting your throat with an ‘ak, ak, ak!’ sound and your cute little muffled moans and whimpers.

you came up for air letting out a extremely loud moan at the feeling of neteyam’s, now two, fingers curling inside of your dripping pussy. “don’t stop! please!”

lo’ak growled not liking the fact of you getting too distracted from making him cum. he placed two hands on the back of your head, forcing you back down on his cock then began fucking your face, and when i say he went a tremendously fast pace, i meant.

“i’m so fucking..close, shit!” he grunted, abs tensing while rutting into you like a sex toy, signaling he actually was close, you gave some more love to his balls, caressing them so gently with trembling fingers from trying not to cum yourself, and that’s what sent him over the edge.

“don’t fucking move, ohh fuck yess!” he let out another series of moans, giving one more sloppy thrust in your mouth before shooting warm hot spurts of cum all over your face, painting you like a pretty picture.

“t-there you go lo’ak.” you cried, giving the boy a small praise, an overwhelming feeling of pleasure washed over you causing your thighs to shake signaling that your orgasm was coming as well.

“nete’ can i-i please cum, i promise i won’t be a brat anymore!” you begged sobbing in the process feeling the coil tighten in your stomach.

“if you cum, your gonna take both me and lo’ak at the same time.do you understand?” he stated purposely fucking his fingers into you at a quicker speed knowing it was gonna send you over the edge, he wanted to see if you were gonna actually disobey him.

you whimpered looking up at lo’ak through your teary eyes, swallowing hard, focusing on anything but cunning.you watched him reach for the knot that held your top up, undoing it.

he licked his lips hungrily at the sight of your huge perky breast, taking one in his mouth while toying with the other.he flashed his fangs before taking a tiny bit out of your full breast tasting the copper-like taste on his tongue, you winced in pain gripping his braids.

“these pretty fuckin tits, so round and full.” he growled messily licking and nipping at your breast and the swollen bud sending a warm feeling down to your core, you couldn’t hold it in anymore, you had to cum.

“i-i c-cant do it! i’m cumming, i’m cumminggg!!” you squealed shaking uncontrollably, lo’ak unlatched from your tits watching you come undone. you squirted all over neteyams thighs, followed by some of your cum, your head fell gently on lo’ak’s knees as you came down from your high heavy breathing.

“i’m sorry tey’ so sorry.” you wept placing a tiny hand on his large knee hoping he’d forgive you, he wiped away the hair that stuck to your sweaty forehead trailing his hand all the way down to your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“bad girls don’t get rewards, they get punished.” he whispered in your ear, kitty licking the top of it, you shuddered in his hold giving him those doe eyes that worked on anybody, placing your hands below his abdomen.

“i’ll be a good girl next time, teyam’ please.” you begged, he gently lifted you up from the moss that painted the floor, repositioning you on all fours. “we’ll try to be gentle.” he responded, your lips quivered at was about to come.

“go grab her something to bite down on.” neteyam order his younger brother, lo’ak scanned the area spotting a thick chunk of tree,“this’ll do.” he held the object to where you were, you accepted it with shaking fingers before placing in your mouth, keeping it secure with your teeth.

neteyam removed his loincloth, throwing it somewhere like yours, and lubricated his cock by spitting on it, loak doing the same as well. they each conjured up some saliva then lip it drip slowly from their lips onto your glistening pussy making you melt at the warm feeling.

“same time?”

“same time.”

you felt their tips poke at your entrance, slowly inching inside of your tight little pussy, the tips were barely even inside of you and still, they shoved their thick, lengthy, cocks inside of you..possibly ripping something.

“O-OHHH SHIT!! S’TOO B-BIG, TAKE IT OUT P-PLEASEE!!” you screamed immediately dropping the chunk of the tree from your mouth, reaching back to push their lower abdomens away from you. they groaned at feeling your pussy suffocating their throbbing cocks and swatted your hands away.

lo’ak pinned one arm down while neteyam pinned the other, tears of pain streamed down your face at the horrible feeling, “you gotta get used to it, y/n.” lo’ak grunted while slowly moving at the same pace as his brother, you sobbed placing the object back in your mouth tryna to feel more pleasure than pain.

as they moved in and out, you cried bucking forwards but they would quickly pull you back, but as they inched deeper your slick coated their cocks making it easier for them to enter and halfway exit. soon the pain washed away, they stretched your tiny little hoe wide which made you get used to the feeling.

“mhm fuckkk, just like that! makin' me feel so good” you moaned spitting the object you no longer needed and enjoyed the feel of feeling so full and stuffed, a growl erupted from both of them, the two brothers hitched one leg up, knees still planted on the grass floor while they rutted into you at the same time.

“fuckkk baby, taking this dick like a champ huh?” neteyam groaned throwing his head back at your hold and swallowing his girthy cock, you were too fucked out to even speak a proper sentence, all you could do was let out a strained moan followed with a broken cry.

loak sent a harsh slap to your plump ass while still fucking into you deep, “he asked a question mama, are you being a big girl and taking us well.” he questioned, his and neteyams hip stuttering at you clenching around them.

“oh my god!! yes daddy! such.. a good girl!” you deliriously sobbed, chewing at your bottom lip drawing blood as you felt your release coming any moment, all of you were wrapped up in each other's moans, so caught up in the euphoric feeling.

“mhm fuck, j-just can’t get enough of this tight fucking pussy.” lo’ak admitted through gritted teeth feeling that coil tighten in his stomach, you peeked over your shoulders seeing lo’ak looking down, focusing on how his cock sank so easily into you, and neteyam bright yellow eyes were already on you.

you reached out from neteyam’s hand, taking one of his fingers in your whole hand before struggling to speak, “i l-love you guys..s-so much, fuckkk!” you cooed not being able to keep your sounds muted, lo’ak looked up at you with a sly grin loving how fucking drunk you were off his dick.

“w-we love you too.” they said in sync.

your eyes rolled back in pleasure, you returned to the position you were in and laid your sweaty sticky skin on the grass beneath you. your face screwed shut as you were about to cum.

“ngh! fuckk, fuckk, im cumminggggg!!” you wailed squirting once again, rubbing your clit for more pleasure as you creamed on their ducks and squirted on their thigh, you weren’t able to fully come down from your high due to the fact of them still giving you deep, hard strokes.

“oh my, fuckkk! you ready bro?” neteyam glanced at loak.

“y-yep, dibs on cumming in her..ready baby?” lo’ak called in a strained voice.

“no way baby bro i—”

“both of you cum in me, please!” you whined not minding if either of them did it, they both hit you with sloppy thrusts before letting out a string of moans and then cumming deep inside of your womb

“oh fuck..”

“goddamn..”

they both pulled out watching their cum mixed with some of your leak out of your gaping hole, you collapsed to the floor once you were no longer in their hold.

“i think we did our big one with her.”

taglist: @pandorxxx @loaksbaby @savvysscandles

#avatar the way of water #avatar smut #neteyam sully #neteyam imagine #loak smut #loak sully #neteyam smut #nani’ speaks!#loak x reader #neteyam x you #avatar 2022 #avatar 2009 #smut #avatar angst

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dad-sun-and-moon · 6 months

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[Entry: SCP-5M00N]

This being is dangerous. It can and will kill in an instant. It can be as silent as the wind and perform a lethal attack. It strongly dislikes humans. It is tall and has the ability to change height at will, but usually stays around 11-12 feet whenever it can. It has thousands of teeth, made for tearing into flesh and its prey. The thing on the back of its head looks like a hat, but it is actually an extra appendage. It can move it however it wants, and like its height, can change it willingly.

We have not yet discovered its main food supplement. It eats whatever meat we give it. It prefers the larger mammals to the smaller, such as pork or beef. However, it seems to also get nutrients elsewhere, but in a way that does not require it to hunt. It seems most attentive at noon and at midnight, and can be seen looking directly into the sun or moon during those times. Perhaps it is feeding off of them, but we are unsure.

We want to test other forms of food. Perhaps human meat is something to consider.

[Edit To Entry:]

5M00N seems to be able to distort camera footage, unfortunately. The best we can do is pictures, but even then, it seems strangely attuned to us. We are unsure how, as all of the cameras are hidden. Perhaps it is hiding more power than we originally thought?

We put a human in with it today. It was a small child, perhaps about three or four years in age, and while it was a skinny thing, 5M00N would likely devour it whole. It has thousands of teeth to hunt its prey. As we predicted, it ate the child as quickly as possible, using its head appendage to lure it into a secluded area. Audio was distorted at this point, but the child has not resurfaced, so it is safe to say 5M00N happily ate it.

Unfortunately, willing parents to give their children up are hard to come by. It will likely take months, if not years for a constant food supply. One of our Ethics Committee members, Mr. Estrella, seemed very disturbed by this. He was not in today, but a message was sent to all members, and he immediately responded back. He was not there for the final vote, so it was only appropriate that we acted upon our curiosity.

Until we receive another child, 5M00N will continue to be fed other forms of meat. It seems fond of beef and pork the most, along with its strange space diet, but that is easy enough to come by.

[End Entry.]

Unfiltered version!

#fnaf sun and moon dad au #the dadcare attendant #dadcare scp au #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smoon #smoon is not eclipse #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf sun #fnaf sundrop #fnaf sunny #fnaf moon #fnaf moondrop #fnaf gregory #gregory star #steve estrella

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bomberqueen17 · 27 days

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deep in the obsession

ok so IDK how much I've talked about my Special Interest in the Bronze Age on here. At one point (like nanowrimo of 2003 or so) I was trying to write a novel set in the British Isles Bronze Age and I researched as much as I could and there just wasn't much information and I wrote some stuff anyway but it petered out. And ever since then I've kept checking back on various avenues of research and every time there's a new find I'd read as much as I could find about it. And then they discovered the remains of a pile-dwelling settlement in the Fens in England and they've finally just now published the results of that? Well of course I've been obsessively reading about it. (I had actually emailed the Cambridge Archaeology Unit a couple of months ago to ask where I could find the publications, so the timing was good.)

I mean the long and short of it is, they've got a site exposed by modern quarrying activity, which consists of five remaining buildings, which burned down and collapsed into the river channel with all their contents in the 9th century BC; the inhabitants escaped with very few of their possessions, and the rest of the assembly of the items they used in their daily lives are largely present, very well-preserved; whole sets of pots and woodworking tools, as well as textiles and textile-processing materials, foodstuffs, wooden tools, and enough building materials to almost entirely reconstruct their dwellings; a enormous wealth of information about their diets, their ways of living, even some feel for their aesthetic sensibilities. The circumstances of the buildings' collapse even means we know how they laid out their living spaces.

So I am going to infodump about what I've pulled out of these rather dense and dry reports (I have zero complaints, they're perfectly appropriately-written), so buckle up.

Firstly, if you want to read these yourself, the publications are open access PDFs hosted on the Cambridge Archaeology Unit's website here.

There are also a fantastic series of blog posts both from during the excavation and from during the initial analytical "post-ex" phase on the site's website, which I devoured while waiting for the final reports.

I admit I was first drawn to the whole thing, when I first saw stories about it, because of the mystery. It seems to have been a whole settlement, a village maybe, and it all burned down at once, and no humans seem to have died in it, but everyone left everything behind, even leaving a dog in one of the buildings, and some penned little lambs in a couple of them-- what caused this? Were they attacked? Were they forced out of it? It had a palisade around it as if for defense, did they build it because they were afraid, and rightfully so?? Why did they not come back to try to salvage anything? The water would have been shallow, surely they could at least get their axe-heads and things back.

But the thing that has sustained my interest now is that it appears to have been an unexceptional village after all. There's no evidence that these were elite people living here. There weren't any unambiguous weapons found-- part of a broken sword, in what was obviously a recycle bin (a wooden bucket), waiting along with some broken chisels and a bent axe and part of a broken bronze bucket for a trip back to the nearest metalworker. Some spears, but likely used for hunting, stored outside the houses all together leaned up against the palisade under an overhanging roof eave. Axes, but the sheer quantity of woodworking in the site means they were very obviously woodworking tools, and weapons only by technicality.

Other contemporaneous sites are preserved so incompletely that there are always "was this a place people dwelled or was it a ceremonial gathering place" kinds of questions. Artifacts are found either discarded in middens, broken, or deposited in hoards, "ceremonially?". But all this stuff is in-context, in the house, which burned down and collapsed straight down. This was the kitchen area, obviously; all the houses had most of their pots in the same approximate spot, caches of grain in the same area. This corner is where we find stuff they were working on-- one house has probably a loom, and tons of textile-related stuff scattered around it. (There's only evidence for a loom in one or maybe two of the buildings, but there are spindle whorls and bobbins of thread in three; several spinners providing one weaver, as is common throughout history.)

Some of the pots had been broken before the fire, and some of them had been partially discarded and partially kept, like for example a well-shaped broken bit of rim was being used as a scoop or something, while the little unusable shards had gotten chucked into the river where they threw their trash; the archaeologists could reunite fragments to prove this, and could derive the information that these shards would all be associated with the same house; they weren't shared, they were using the broken pot in the same house where they'd used it before it was broken; they seem to have cooked their meals separately, and kept separate inventory of basic household necessities. But the extra stuff seems to have been stored in the communal storage shed, so they could all get to it.

There's a large but incomplete sheet of bark that in places has a second sheet adhered to it with moss in between, which was likely bedding.

There are textiles, not just woven ones but also weft-twined ones made from lime bast cord-- mats, or hats, or capes. There's a knotted fishing net that was rolled up and in a pile with other things in an area that seems to have been a storage shed of sorts. (Near the "recycle bin" full of broken metal.) There's a collection of prepared fiber, ready to be made into cordage or spun into thread, and it's all prepared the same way in standard-sized bundles-- tantalizingly, regular enough as if for trade, stored in that storage shed next to a nested set of new pots-- like somebody had bought or made them and they weren't put to use yet, OR someone had made extra they intended to trade offsite for stuff they couldn't make themselves.

The whole sets of pots are broadly the same among households-- similar numbers of large vs. small, coarse vs. fine. They all resemble one another, though some are better-made than others-- as if several people made them, but under the guidance of one experienced worker.

Several pots and wooden containers have food residues. Hauntingly, there's a ceramic pot that was still half-full of porridge, with a wooden spatula/spoon still stuck in it. The porridge was made of ground wheat cooked in a liquid containing animal fats from a ruminant-- either sheep/goat or red deer-- possibly an early example of frumenty.

Enough of the structural timbers remain from the buildings, many with markings on them from where other structural elements were touching them and alternately exposed/protected them from fire so it is possible to reconstruct shapes and connections in more detail than if they were unburnt ruins, that the buildings can be nearly completely reconstructed, which is novel because most buildings of this era are known only from footprints/post holes. Almost no material survived from the walls, but because of these ghost "protection marks" it's possible to know that the walls existed, how wide they were, that they were attached in a particular spot, that they were made of a series of small uprights-- and to then surmise that some of the fragments of "wattle", woven panels, must have come from the walls in some cases. And it's possible to reconstruct the innovative, never-elsewhere-seen sprung floor system of bowed joists that kept the floors securely above the water below.

Anyway, I've devoured Vol I and am most of the way through scouring Vol II for interesting tidbits.

Yes of course I want to write a novel with this as the setting but I also am just completely fascinated.

#about the author #must farm #archaeology #bronze age

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lassieposting · 2 months

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So on the back of my headcanon about the Prototype more or less raising CatNap, I've been watching someone play Project Playtime for the first time, and I'm fucking yelling

If you play as the monster, the Prototype literally teaches you (as Huggy Wuggy) how to hunt. He's the one giving the tutorial instructions.

And honestly? The vibe I got from that "interaction" is that Prototype likes children. More than that: Prototype is good with children.

Project Playtime takes place in the intervening decade between the Hour of Joy massacre and the start of the main game. Based on the fact that Huggy needs the Prototype's guidance, it's probably fairly early in that period - he's not used to hunting for himself yet. So Huggy here is a monster with limited intelligence - he's the most 'animal' experiment we've seen, though he is still able to write - and the soul of a child.

And the Prototype tailors his lessons appropriately. Like, I trained to work with kids, and he uses essentially the same approach I would to teach a young or special needs child a new skill.

Simple Instructions: what Prototype is teaching Huggy here is, at its core, strategy and tactical thinking, and that's a subject he seems to understand well and know a lot about. A more intelligent experiment - like, say, young CatNap - might ask a lot of questions, and Prototype could probably give them long, in-depth explanations of why doing X thing prompts Y response or why Z tactic is useful. But Huggy isn't on that level, so Prototype keeps his instructions and explanations short, concise and easy to understand.

No Guesswork: Huggy, described as having only "sufficient" intelligence post-transformation, likely has limited capacity for complex thought. Where CatNap might be encouraged to think ahead for himself and suggest problems that could arise, Huggy would struggle. So Prototype gives him all the information he needs: here are the ways the humans will try to avoid or harm or mislead you, and here are the ways you can fight back. He even points out little tips that might seem obvious, like listening for the breathing of a hiding worker, because he knows that might not occur independently to Huggy.

Positive Reinforcement: When Huggy successfully incapacitates a human player, Prototype laughs and praises him, treating a potentially upsetting conflict like a fun game. Once Huggy has gotten rid of all the human players and won the match, Prototype tells him he did a good job and that he can rest now.

The Bad News Sandwich: One technique I was taught for dealing with young children is that when you have to give them upsetting or disappointing news, sandwiching it between two good things limits the distress it will cause. And Prototype does this twice with Huggy:

[Praises Huggy for catching a player and putting him in the food chute] [warns Huggy that the other players could try to rescue their friend] [offers a way to stop them doing that]

[Praises Huggy for clearing out the factory] [tells Huggy that more humans will return] [reassures Huggy that for now, he can rest and relax]

Anyway. Prototype taught at least one child-aged experiment to fend for itself and defend the factory: confirmed. And so, scenarios I'm now picturing with Prototype and little CatNap: this

youtube

I'm also 👀👀👀 at the fact that like. While it's directly stated that while his main motive for having the experiments attack the Project Playtime workers is to stop them making more creatures, he's got a secondary motive in that he's using the Bigger Bodies mascots *to gather food for the smaller toys*. The larger toys may have become hostile towards the smaller, weaker, "prey" toys, but the Prototype seems to be at least trying to provide for them, albeit in the only fucked-up way available to him.

Anyway I just think that's really interesting considering he's been implied to be the game's ultimate Big Bad. I think there's more to him than we've been told

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime meta #poppy playtime headcanons #experiment 1006 #the prototype #huggy wuggy #catnap

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scoobydoodean · 1 month

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It’s interesting to me that Dean won’t specify to Lisa what Ben was doing when Dean yelled at him in 6.02. Dean shouldn’t have yelled at him, but Ben did do something he very much should not have done. He found Dean’s car keys, unlocked his trunk, and started messing with Dean’s guns. This isn’t something a child who’s never touched a gun and therefore has zero gun safety training should be doing, and regardless shouldn’t be happening without supervision at his age. This is an incident that Lisa, as Ben’s mom, would probably want to sit down with Ben and discuss. But when Lisa comes around and asks Dean what happened, Dean says Ben didn’t do anything, and then when pressed, says “He got into my tools. I shouldn’t have gotten mad”. They’re surrounded by tool boxes for regular tools. When Dean says this, he’s holding a regular old tool box. There’s no implication that he means hunting tools specifically. The omission of that detail may make Dean feel truthful enough, but he’s not being truthful at all. He’s deliberately lying by omission.

Not only is this omission not fair to Lisa as Ben’s mother who should be afforded the opportunity to discuss this with Ben and correct his behavior—it also overtly understates Ben’s actual actions, inflating the irrationality of Dean’s reaction which is basically… self-sabotage on Dean’s part. He is making Ben a blameless figure who essentially did nothing wrong at all—making himself out to be horrible villain who yells at kids for messing with screwdrivers or hammers, when Ben was actually doing something potentially deadly.

Why does Dean lie? We specifically see Dean close up the trunk and put the key in a box. Despite securing his weapons appropriately, does he feel responsible for Ben being able to find the key and get in the trunk? Does he think maybe he forgot to lock it properly? Is he worried that Lisa would be angry at him and blame him for Ben being able to get to his weapons? Or does it make him so sick to think of the image of Ben holding a weapon that he can’t bring himself to talk about it? Is it possible he’s even genuinely rewritten the reality of what happened? That isn’t something out of Dean’s wheelhouse. He rewrites losing Cas at the Purgatory portal as his failure because he can’t handle the actual reality of it. Does he do the same here with Ben, unable to face the fact that Ben felt driven to pick up a gun because (from Dean’s perspective at least) Dean’s own attempts to keep their family safe are inadequate and he’s already failed?

#6.02 #pk rewatches spn number ?#ben #dean and ben #deanlisa #lisa #dean and guilt

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jedi-enthusiast · 4 months

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Why does the galaxy forget about the Jedi in 19 years I don’t care how good of a manipulator Palpatine is he is not good enough to manipulate people into thinking the Jedi who literally fought just 19 years ago were just myths, like for example in the real word everyone remembers 9/11 and the Iraq war, how can everyone forget about the Jedi in just 19 years? Also how can everyone forget about the sith in 1000 years? There are people in Star Wars who are that old and they have a much more advanced galaxy than we do im sorry but it just makes no sense to me, also I love the Jedi they are the good guys of Star Wars plain and simple.

To be fair, when it comes to 9/11 and the Iraq war, most people only remember those things because it's practically ingrained into the US school system to teach those things, even when it's probably not age-appropriate---like, I was watching videos of people jumping out of the twin towers in elementary school.

In contrast, Palpatine destroyed and desecrated basically everything about the Jedi he could get his hands on.

Given that Force-sensitives were being hunted down and murdered and Palpatine was dead set on erasing the Jedi from the galaxy, it wouldn't surprise me if people were scared of talking about the Jedi or if there was actually a penalty for talking about the Jedi. And, with that fear going around, I doubt that parents would ever tell their children anything about the Jedi---so there was a whole generation that probably grew up with little to no information on the Jedi.

As for the Sith, I think it's important to remember that there's a lot of things from the 1900's that we don't remember today---and that's only 100 years! If we go back all the way to 1000 years ago, we don't remember a whole lot of what was going on back then, and a lot of what we do know is speculation.

More advanced or not, 1000 years is a long time to remember just one subset of one group that's already really small, especially one that was "extinct."

#star wars #sw prequels #pro jedi #jedi #sith

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themotherofblood · 4 months

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chapter 4 | river of fire | d.t x reader x r.t

series masterlist | main masterlist | previously

a/n: so a major fuck up on my end, I had updated a chapter on ao3 but didn’t on tumblr so I wrote two chapter fives, that has been corrected to the time line. So sorry!

synopsis: the matter of visery’s marriage looms in the air when Daemon swoops in to cause more chaos and steals his late nephew’s egg

“The lanterns in the sky were beautiful, just two but against the dark sky they were everything. Rhaenyra will find peace, I pray she does, no matter how many burning hot baths and curt words she throws my way. She is there, angry and afraid. She is me at seven, I could hold her and tell her everything will be better I cannot. I can merely tell her that I shall love her always, I will be with her always.”

After many quarrels on Rhaenyra’s part, she had finally earned a seat on the Small Council and you have been tasked with a new job. The King’s Cupbearer. Most of the time you tried not to break into a fit of ill-concealed giggles if you met Nyra’s eyes. It was insightful for sure, you made Rhaenyra do your bidding once or twice, men for a clothing donation run and a few sanctions for diverse agricultural trades. You wanted jasmine seeds without spending nearly half of your pin money to do so.

Rhaenyra had been aloof for most of it, growing more defiant— it was adorable and yet concerning; she was dealing with her grief as best she could, for it had only been just more than half a year since Aemma passed. Though Daemon being dismissed from the court might have had a role in catalysing her loneliness, sure you were there, her love that she would kiss goodnight and unabashedly embrace at all hours of the day but perhaps only a dragon could understand a dragon.

“Why did you have to say it! Why!” Rhaenyra scolded Daemon. “You will be gone now too.”

“ The Heir for A Day. ” You oddly understood the humour behind it. You believed not that he had ill intentions when saying it so, but perhaps your admiration for him was so thick you couldn’t see past it.

Even Syrax grew petulant, refusing to hunt for herself, she grew fluffy around the edges but adorable nonetheless, she doesn’t waft her nostrils at you anymore. You would like to think the yellow dragon is friends with you now, however, you do not wish to stick your hand in its mouth to test out the theory.

The latest rumble, however, one only spoken without your or Rhaenyra’s presence was the matter of Viserys finding a new queen for himself. Barely half a year and attempts of forever shrouding Aemma already had set afoot, it is expected of him even with Rhaenyra as his heir, the prospect of a son would forever loom over the high towers of the Red Keep. The lords would like to believe that the lot of you were stupid enough to not realise but Nyra had already scoffed about the prospect of having a stepmother, she’d support her father but such warmth might never extend to her new mother.

“ What ?” You and Rhaenyra exclaim in unison, brows pulled as you drop your current activities to question your aunt, a sense of vile premonition crawled onto your skin as your eyes blew wide.

Oberya had been summoned by the Small Council along with Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys, all the women at court and they found it appropriate to paw around the home, though she suggested that the notion of marriage was brought upon by Lord Corlys to present his daughter’s hand in marriage to Viserys– poor Laena, but your name was dragged to the battlefield by Lord Lyonel to contest Otto Hightower’s complains of Laena’s age. Offering you, an auspicious and elder match, elder match by a year and un-flowered. You are but fresh thirteen, he is at least two decades older if not more. Another horrid chill shrivels down your back.

Beyond all that was said, you could feel Rhaenyra’s gaze bore holes in your face, she knew this day would come but not you, the thought so wildly macabre that the possibility hadn’t even graced her nightmares in the past five moons.

“And?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice sounding far more curt than she intended. You turned to her, widening your eyes at her tone towards your aunt, she shook her head still replying to an answer.

“The decision is up to you, they have written to Qoren but I doubt he’d say any differently.”

“No! I’m not marrying Viserys.” You say mildly repulsed, Hands flailing as you push your needlepoint patch away, a shrill shiver running down your spine.

“Then that’s that.” Rhaenyra sharply nodded, coming to sit next to you. Yanking your face towards her and pecking your lips, it wasn’t an affectionate gesture but one to seal your decision for good.

Oberya coughed, eyebrows raised “Still here, darlings.”

You smiled at her apologetically, “You are sure Qoren wouldn’t write otherwise?”

“Oh-“ she rolls her eyes “have some faith in your brother will you?” She scolds, finding your mistrust in him still unbecoming.

“And write to him, will you. It’s been months dærya,” she points out before turning to leave, shaking her head once again at Rhaenyra who was clinging to you like a milk-hungry babe.

You shook Rhaenyra off you, it was far too warm to have her clung to your back. Now all you could think of was Laena , Rhaenys would have thoroughly prepared her for this, you were trying to find some bright light within such a prospect but you couldn’t. Viserys was a wise king and a wonderful warden to you, but he was nothing like the knights in the books you and Laena shared, not by a far shot.

“How could they do this? To Laena.” You shook your head, sinking further into the chaise and resting your palms on your belly.

Such marriages weren’t unheard of but you had believed Lord Corlys to be more of the progressive sort. He never found differences between Laenor and Laena and raised them alike but to now thrust Laena up for the position to marry Viserys all for…power? Title?

“It is for Rhaenys,” Rhaenyra mumbles, “if not his wife then his blood.” She sounded bitter.

You frowned at her, sitting up to clasp her shoulder with the fire of heavy disagreement burning in your heart.

“You are his heir, you. Not some child he currently does not have. He wouldn’t choose another.”

“How it could be, duck.”

“Nyra?” You frown, this time climbing on top of her to make her look at you. “You are his heir.”

“He barely talks to me, you think I’m his heir?” She snaps, pushing you off her. She grunts. “Not once has my input held any weight in his court, you’re young, it isn’t your place. I am his heir as a stowaway. The day one of those wh— women birth him a son. I’d be nothing again.”

Therein lay the truth, the subject that had her irked so, you saw it in the folds of her frown but never understood it fully. Septa Marlow had hushed Rhaenyra thrice on the topic but couldn’t punish as she saw fit because Rhaenyra was now the heir. There never had been such strife about successions when it came to you, your brother inherited the seat while you were a pawn for political alliances, it made perfect sense but this, to be the only child in many dead.

“Have you spoken to him about this?” You calmly said, trying to ease her turmoil as you reach for her pacing frame.

“I would sooner die.”

You would have opened your mouth to say something incongruous, something that you were sure would do nothing to fix the situation but what were you to do. Sit here and let Rhaenyra drown in whatever turmoil was boiling within her? You were three and ten but many days you couldn’t see beyond the frivolities of court, the games— what games ? Beyond the simpering ladies, and the brooding knights, what games were there to play beyond blindly chasing each other in the courtyard.

Sona interrupted your line of thought as she approached with a tray of tea for the lot of you and a stash of letters in her hands, Enora too followed suit, eyeing Rhaenyra's sour look as she presented her with her letters.

“Would you know where Lady Laena is?” You asked Sona as she poured you tea, she looked to Enora and then stood straight.

“Promenading, princess.” She replied.

You perked up, looking at Rhaenyra with a performative smile “We could use one too, couldn’t we Nyra, pick some flowers— perhaps visit Syrax?”

“I— she is with the King, princess,” Enora added, making Rhaenyra turn to her and sharply place her stash of letters on the chaise.

“Leave us!” She barks, pacing even harder now.

You looked at them apologetically as you took the teapot from Sona’s hands. “Stay close please.” You whispered.

“What fortune, even if I wanted to hate her I cannot.” Rhaenyra rants, picking at her sleeves. “He will always be the king won’t he, always the king before my father.”

You sorrowfully nodded. “I’m here with you, I’ll always be your lady before anything.” You sheepishly smile.

Rhaenyra’s curt resolution cracks for a moment as her lips curl upwards, and she yet again flops down next to you.

“I love you,” she mumbles, words like honey, you blush, nodding before kissing her cheek. She sighs even harder before resting her head on your shoulder.

The matter of Viserys nuptials was still in the air, every time you’d make rounds filling cups of the men in his court, somebody would bring it up, it went on for an entire moon and you could see it weighing down on the King’s shoulders. He was so beyond the need to talk about it, he barely spoke when Nyra and you would take meals with him. You saw it as his vice but Nyra, it wedged a further divide between her and her father. Even Alicent believed otherwise when she would accompany you in the gardens or to the markets.

Somehow, perhaps that Alicent was older, she had far wiser words, once laced in her faith as she consoled Rhaenyra. Every word with meaning and understanding she was stitching the gashes within Rhaenyra, you were thankful for it— Nyra wasn’t so pouty anymore. Though sometimes you missed Alicent, you were sure with her growing up her father would have thrust more ladylike duties in her lap, she couldn’t join your expeditions in finding shiny bugs or artisan rocks anymore.

“Go on, say it.” Rhaenyra shakes you by the shoulders.

“She won’t listen.” You rebut, shaking your head and cowering behind Rhaenyra, still small enough to hide behind her shoulders, you peek through looking at Syrax eyeing the sheep.

“Oh come on, roll your tongue on the ‘r’ and command her.” She insists.

“ Dr — Rhaenyra I can’t.” You whine, looking at the poor sheep, it wasn’t even shaved. Does Syrax eat the wool too? That doesn’t sound appetising.

She turns to you, squishing your cheeks within her palms and boring her purple eyes into your soul. “She is hungry, now you say it. Or I will make you ride on her.”

“There is a dragon in you, uncle said it and I believe him.”

“Rhaenyra, I wasn’t even given an egg and my mother wanted nothing to do with them.” You huffed, reiterating again.

“But look how well you do around them!” Rhaenyra whines.

“Say it or we go riding— and I sleep alone tonight!”

Your eyes widen, horrified you turn to Syrax “ Dracarys .” You say quickly and meekly.

Syrax turns her giant head to her rider, unused to taking orders from anything small that wasn’t Rhaenyra, she nods to her mount. The yellow beast wastes no time and blasts dragon fire onto the sheep, the poor thing doesn’t even get a moment to bleat its end before it gets cooked, you pout at where the fluffy animal stood. Rest well, sheep.

Rhaenyra watched Syrax feast on her supper as you looked around the dark stone cave.

“Nyra?” You pull on her arm, “can I go see the baby dragons?”

She bothers not to look at you and nods, knowing you'll be safe in the hands of the Dragonkeepers. She looks to Oalth, a newly appointed, young dragon keeper and orders him to take you to the nursery.

You pad along behind him, following his glowing silhouette from the fire torch in his hand as he leads you to the nursery.

“Watch your step princess,” he cautions, holding your hand as you climb up the steep stone-carved steps.

The nursery is well lit, mostly for the comfort of the Dragonkeepers but also to not have any of the little hellions wiggle away from this part of the cave, a giant hearth is lit with many dragon eggs laying around its edges, eggs of gold, purple, red and blues. Some small and some big, all waiting to hatch one day in the cradle of their riders or perhaps in the glowing embers of the hearth, their magic swirling within the membranes of the egg, forever keeping them alive and warm.

This summer there had been eight dragons that hatched, without riders they almost never survive, and if they do they never stay here, choosing to live their lives as wild dragons at Dragonstone, or perhaps wherever their hearts pleased.

“Here they are,” Oalth huffs as he moves out of your way.

Four little dragons looked much like lizards curled against one another. Little rocks used as cushioning to rest their heavy tails upon. They looked frail, breakable to touch. Oalth broke into a smile, bending down to let a finger trace down the orange dragon’s tail, they roused flopping over to him, expecting food most likely.

“I thought there were six?” You pulled your skirts up to stop one from trotting itself under you.

He looked to you apologetically, the answer being only one. They didn’t survive .

“Who’s eggs?”

“Dreamfyre, her eggs hatch but rarely live past the year.”

You tut, letting the orange little guy climb up your arm, smiling at the little thing. Orange body with bright red membranes, you could see it in the green of its eyes, it was strong.

“She is a fighter,” Oalth muses, smiling at the dragon finding adventure in climbing your skirts.

“She? How can you tell?”

“Intuition, we won’t know until she is grown but she has the fury of a she-dragon.” He says, minding the other little dragons.

“Quba konīr iksis,” a dragon keeper pokes his head through the entrance, hissing at Oalth in Valyrian, a foreign song to your ears. Oalth’s shoulders immediately stiffen.

“Stay here, princess.” He cautions as he grabs his dragon glass spear, rushing behind the other keeper.

You frown at him leaving but return your attention to the little creature now sniffing your ear. You gently pick her up by pinching together her wings and dropping her onto your palm.

“You’re a girl huh? Of course, you are, look at you.” You whisper, watching her walk in circles in your palms and plop down. “No boy dragon is this pretty.”

Oalth was right, even in her frailty there was something about her, a will to fly, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. Just like the one Rhaenyra has when she finds some way to bother Septa Marlow.

“You will live.” You tell her “Grow ginormous and el— elegant, eat sheep and fly as high as you want.”

“ Dracarys .” You smile at her, already envisioning her pale orange body to be a beacon of the Sun goddess once she is grown, whatever rider would claim her would surely be an eccentric embodiment of her.

A swift shuffle however tears you from your gaze for adoration, you flinch, turning your head over your shoulder and looking around the nursery to find the intruder.

And found you did.

There stood Daemon, a shabby cloak pulled down, his glowing silver hair much longer and his charming smirk greeting you.

“Playing with fire, are you, little viper?” He asks with a smug grin on his lips.

“Daemon?” You chide, looking around the room once more before turning to him.

There was a small burst of joy in your chest, you missed him dearly, however, he shouldn’t have been here. He was banished from King’s Landing, if anyone knew he would be in so so much trouble.

“You shouldn't be here!” You hiss, placing the baby dragon back by its sibling.

“Pretty one you’ve picked, princess” he deflects, pushing himself away from the wall he leaned against.

You turn to the orange dragon, “She won’t make it they say.” You lament, so quickly forgetting how dangerous Daemon's little visit is.

He hums, approaching you to set his eyes on the dragon. “Name it.”

“I cannot do that?” You look up at him, eyes wide and shaking your head.

“Can you not speak?” His sarcasm doesn’t miss your ears as you tut.

“I'm a Martell.” You state the obvious, wondering if in the eight moons he had spent away from home, he had returned without his sanity.

He faux gasps “What would Daenerys say?”

A pang of guilt hit your chest, you looked nothing like your mother, so accustomed to your dark features you often forgot that there was dragon blood within you.

“I— she won’t make it anyways.” You shake your head, still looking at the dragon napping away.

“Name, princess.”

“Agni…?” You look up at him but flinch once more when this time Oalth comes back to receive you.

Daemon swiftly ducks behind the wall again, as you look at the young dragonkeeper.

“Your wheelhouse is here, the princess calls for you.”

You couldn’t shake off meeting Daemon again, how were you to keep such a secret in your stomach? He was here, he broke the king’s rules — not surprising at all but still, you were a part of whatever his plot was now. Your skin prickled in goosebumps as you made the rounds filling half-empty cups around the Small Council table. Lord Corlys as usual, stopped you from filling his, you would have insisted on just skipping him over but Septa Marlow said it wasn’t proper.

It was the day after and you still rose with such tussled movement within you, did he hurt someone, burn something, do people know you saw him but said nothing— bad girl? You nervously finished your rounds and set down the jug on the table before turning towards the meeting.

The doors opened to the Elder Dragonkeeper using his cane to bow and enter the council room, bile coated the insides of your mouth. You were in so much trouble.

You turned the other way, hearing the Elder speaking in Valyrian, damn you, you patiently listened for anything that might sound like your name, the syllables or the word dārilaros .

“Dārilaros,”

Mother Rhyone, don’t let it be me.

“Daemon sikio sīdas, eglivivys aōhys.” The Elder declared.

The room grew silent, as you turned around, mayhaps you weren’t in trouble at all. He didn’t take your name. You appeared confused at why Rhaenyra appeared angry, you thought she’d be happy to hear the return of her favourite uncle.

“Skorior drōmon Daemon laēttas?” Rhaenyra’s words sounded like a question.

“Dārilaros Baelon iderēptā se Drōmon Ēdrurzo iles rūs.”

Your head turns to Viserys and back to Rhaenyra to try and understand what has happened, but Viserys stands abruptly. Storming out of the rooms with Otto heavy on his heels along with Ser Westerling and the Kingsgaurd. Rhaenyra follows suit in the other direction, running up to her rooms.

The other lords shuffled up, Lord Beesbury and Lord Lyonel left the rooms next, leaving Lord Corlys to sigh and look at your rigid but confused form.

“You ought to return to the gardens girl,” he called out, breaking you out of your bewildered trance. “The jasmine, have they grown?”

“What has happened?” You blurted out. Looking at him this time.

“Prince Daemon has happened, an egg and a hatchling missing.” He shook his head.

You rushed out of the Small Council this tip, taking two steps as you rushed up Maegor’s Holdfast to your apartments. Daemon had once again shot an arrow straight at an already gaping open wound, you only worried about what Rhaenyra might do this time for she couldn’t just beat her fists on Daemon’s chest this time.

When you burst through her chambers she was already gone, the yellow gown she was wearing earlier discarded on her bed and her gloves and dagger gone. You groaned, falling onto her bed, wondering what trouble Rhaenyra was going to find herself this time, instead, you found a small rolled-up parchment along with her clothes.

“ I’ll return soon.”

You could cry from how frustrated and scared you were, why is it that these two always seemed to drag you into impermissible situations, where you must lie for them. You would again be in such trouble.

You paced back and forth at least a hundred times, your feet could have walked to Winterfell and back from how hard and how long you had been pacing, looking out to the setting sun and waiting for Rhaenyra to return home.

Every time a crow or pigeon flew by, you wondered if it was her. Come back, come back you insolent lover of mine.

“Princess?” Sona stood in your receiving chambers with an evening gown in hand, “it is time for supper soon.”

Supper with the king, my death.

Even dressed for supper in a longer gown, you began pacing once more, your boots thudding against the stone floor. Coming up with possible excuses you could give on Rhaenyra’s behalf, feverish, loss of appetite, poor absolutions— uh mayhap not.

When the sun just touched the horizon you began walking towards Viserys’s chambers, mumbling reasoning under your breath as Ser Darklyn followed behind you, he had been fed the story of Rhaenyra being tired, now you needed an elaboration. A sticky narrative with no questions, Ser Darklyn knocked on your behalf and then you were let in.

“Your grace.” You curtsied, waiting for him to receive you.

“Ah, come— come.” Viserys looked up from his pumice stone city.

“You’ve added another layer?” You ask the work was truly beautiful, with more cravings of dragons around the edges of the main wall.

“The Ānōgron, which is?” He quizzed.

“The blood mages workshops?”

He smiled, nodding at you.

“It is beautiful, my king.” You complimented, gently tracing your finger along its edge.

“Where is Rhaenyra?” He muses, still craving away with his dagger.

“She is feeling unwell, she had her supper early and chose to rest for a while.” You say quickly, toying with your fingers.

“Unwell? Pah, I didn’t think the matter with the egg would bother her so deeply.” he shook his head, wiping the tip of his dagger on a cloth. “Has Mellos looked at her?”

“I wouldn’t know, your grace. I spent the evening in the gardens.” Another lie. You twist the rings on your fingers even harder.

You awkwardly begin to walk towards the already set table for three, the aromas of deliciousness filling your nostrils, beyond everything today, you were starving for sure. Just as you settled yourself in, waiting for Viserys to join. The doors to his room opened once more with an attendant stepping in.

“The Princess has returned from Dragonstone.”

Viserys turns to you, eyes squint as he questioningly takes your name once more, your shoulders slumping in defeat and you glaring holes into the back of the attendant walking away.

You sat slowly eating your supper as echoes of arguing bustled from the antechamber, first, you would hear Viserys scold Rhaenyra, and then she would scream back in a rebuttal. It went on for several minutes, you finished your goose by then. Flinching every now and then whenever their voices would boom from the other chamber.

Eventually, everything went quiet, you wondered if this is what those two needed to finally have a proper conversation, one not laced with court propriety but one of a father and his daughter. You could still hear him speaking, and then her speaking. Softly, a fight grew to an endearing conversation by the time you began feasting on the lemon cakes. You slouched against the chair, this time sipping on— or trying to sip on some strong wine, which by all means tasted vile.

The doors then opened, and you abruptly sat straight, wiping the corners of your mouth and sheepishly looking at Rhaenyra. Both of them looked gleeful as they walked toward you.

“You alright sweetheart, you look ill,” Rhaenyra took a seat next to you.

You frowned this time, whisper hissing at her as you smack her thigh, hard. “I lied to the king for you, the king !”

Viserys then called for you. “Usually my court would have liars gelded, but I seem to have hordes of parchment to get through. Up before the Hour of the Rabbit, a King’s Cupbearer must not be late.”

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targaryen x rhaenyra targaryen #daemon headcanon #daemon targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon edit #houseofthedragon #house of the dragon fandom #house of the dragon smut #river of fire series

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year

Note

Can I have xavier x vampire!reader where xavier really wants her to bite him and feed on him? pls thank you

I’ve been trying to post this for a few days, but there’s an extreme cold snap in Canada and it's making the arthrosis in my hands/fingers more sensitive and aching, which slows my writing...

Warnings: mention of blood (is that a necessary warning?)

my taglists are here + you can requests here at any time

—

You were making your way through the library when Xavier pulled you aside by the arm to talk in private between two shelves.

‘’If this is how you flirt with girls — dragging them into a dark corner —, I'm not surprised you don't have a girlfriend, Thorpe. Your technique is giving psychopath vibes, you might want to revise it.’’

Xavier ignored your jab and let go of your arm. ‘’Since when do you speak to Rowan?’’

‘’Since when is who I speak to any of your business?’’ you fired back.

‘’Your eyes are red,’’ he pointed out.

During the day, you had concealed them behind a pair of dark sunglasses. They were mostly to protect your eyes from the burn of the sun, but you also used them to conceal your hunger to the others. Even in a school full of outcasts, bright red irises were difficult to miss.

The sun was down now, so you had taken them off. You should have kept them, but the weight of the day was on your shoulders and you couldn't care who saw your red eyes. You weren't the only vampire at Nevermore — everyone knew what red eyes meant.

‘’Is that why you were talking to Rowan? You were flirting with him to try and lure him into being your blood bank for your next feed?’’

You pulled your eyebrows at the ridiculousness of his words. ‘’What? I was not flirting with Rowan.’’

‘’But you do need to find someone to feed on.’’

‘’My vampire needs are none of your business,’’ you hissed, terminating the conversation.

The next morning, you woke up more irritable than the day prior. More hungry too.

It was difficult to focus in class, your body screaming for blood. You even had to hold your breath during botany class, the delicious smell of your table partner’s blood calling at you and making it difficult to control your bloodlust. Pouncing on your table partner’s jugular in the middle of botany class was not appropriate behavior.

When lunch came around, you asked Yoko if she knew any feeding banks in Jericho. Unfortunately, there was none. She suggested hunting outside the school’s woods — there were deers, rabbits, and other small animals —, but your body was not receptive or fast enough to catch a prey.

Another day passed — you were getting weak. You were so weak that you couldn’t sleep last night. You didn’t attend your classes either.

The lack of feeding severely weakened the body, the same way a human body would if they didn’t get enough nutriments. Although their diet was different, some — small — things were the same. That weakened state also made you more vulnerable to vampire hunters. Fortunately, there wasn’t any around Nevermore.

Using all of your remaining forces, you pulled yourself out of bed and attempted to catch a rat. There was some around Thornhill's greenhouse, they should be easy enough to catch. But you failed miserably and ended up collapsing by the greenhouse, weakened by the blazing sun.

If your mother would see you, she would say you were an embarrassment to your kind you were. A vampire of your age should know how to take care of themself. Should know when to feed and be able to fend for themself.

You stayed there for hours, hidden in the shadows, feeble and powerless. Ms. Thornhill always came to her greenhouse at night. Perhaps she could help you then?

Much to your dismay, it was not your favorite teacher that found you, but the last person you wanted assistance from. He was heading to his art shed after class when he found you sitting by Thornhill’s greenhouse.

You cursed under your breath as he stopped in his tracks. You didn't want Xavier Thorpe to see you like this, weak and sickly. He kneeled down to your level, growing deeply concerned. Your sunglasses were covering your eyes, but Xavier knew they were still red behind the dark lenses.

‘’Do you have a dying wish?’’ Your head tipped forward heavily as if you were going to pass out. ‘’You need to feed.’’

If you hadn’t been so weak, you would have given him a snarky come back.

‘’Unless you are secretly a pro hunter and can catch me a rabbit—’’

‘’There’s me,’’ he blurted out.

You shook your head in earnest. ‘’I'm not biting you.’’

It would solve your hunger, but biting someone at this level of starvation was dangerous. It's easy to lose control and take too much. If you take too much of his blood, he would pass out. Or worse, die.

‘’If you don’t, you’re gonna die and I’m not letting you die,’’ Xavier insisted, loosening his tie and undoing the first buttons of his uniform shirt.

His neck came into sight and you could hear the blood pumping inside Xavier’s untouched jugular. You gulped, forcing yourself to look away. ‘’I could kill you.’’

‘’I’m trusting you not to lose control.’’

‘’It can get messy.’’

‘’Don't care.’’ His green eyes crossed yours, showing you how fucking serious he was about this. About wanting this. ‘’Do it,’’ he said, tilting his head and waiting for you to take him, to bite him.

You flicked your eyes down to his jugular again — your stomach tightened. Foreign to the feeling, a soft gasp left Xavier's lips as your fangs sank into his skin, piercing the vein of his neck. You felt the blood flood your mouth, tasting heavenly on your tongue. You held back a moan. Was it simply because you were starving, or was it Xavier's blood that tasted differently — that, you didn’t know.

Xavier felt the pressure as you sucked, easy at first, and then a little more desperately. He tipped his head back farther, trying to arch his neck more, to give you more room. Blood spilled down his neck, staining the collar of his white shirt, but he didn’t seem to care.

You tugged sharply at his hair, pulling him closer to your mouth while you suckled his blood.

Aside from the objective pain, Xavier felt an euphoric rush from the bite. Lights had flashed behind his eyes as fire had raced through his body. He never felt more alive.

Despite how pleasurable it was for both of you, you retracted your fangs from Xavier’s neck before you took too much. You licked the wound to help the blood coagulate and let go of him, enough satiated. You could’ve taken more, but you didn’t want to risk it.

‘’You’re gonna feel a little light headed for a few minutes,’’ you warned your blood giver.

Xavier blinked, feeling himself losing balance. He sat beside you. ‘’Holy shit.’’

Your tongue darted out, licking a smear of blood from your lip. ‘’You good?’’

He hummed in response, still feeling the high from the bite.

Minutes passed as the both of you recovered in silence. Your strength was starting to return, the blood you just drank finally taking effect.

The wind had risen, making the leaves rustle. You glanced at the sky, seeing it beginning to darken. Ms. Thornhill should arrive soon. She couldn’t see you like that — all bloodied.

‘’We should move,’’ you said. ‘’And clean up.’’

Xavier agreed. Your lips and chin still had traces of blood. Although he found it really hot, you couldn’t go back to the academy looking like that.

‘’Let’s go to my art shed. It’s not far and there’s water and rags to clean up.’’

You followed Xavier's lead, your steps a little slower than usual, and stopped before a small wooden shed. It looked abandoned and old — it probably was.

‘’Is this where you take the girls you want to impress? Because it looks like a psychopath’s kill den.’’

A small smile cracked on his lips. Xavier undid the lock and opened one of the two barn doors, waving his hand to let you in first.

You smelled the paint and other art supplies before you saw any of it.

You heard a small click and the room came to light. Dozens of canvas of various sizes, sketchbooks and graphite drawings, and a tall easel. In the back, there was a long table with pots of brushes messily lined up - there were more dirty than clean ones. Countless tubes of paints were scattered in all corners of the room, some of them uncapped and likely drying. The trash basket beside the easel was overflowing with paper towels, paper and empty paint tubes.

‘’Nice paintings,’’ you said, looking at the monster on one of the massive canvases.

While you were admiring the paintings, Xavier was looking for a clean-ish rag. There was a bit of paint on this one, but it'll do the job. He also grabbed the water bottle he forgot last night so you could wet the rag.

‘’Here.’’

You thanked him.

There was no mirror, so you tried your best to clean your face.

A few steps away, Xavier was taking off his uniform layers. The bite had stopped bleeding, but the mess of blood and soiled fabric had dried and was now stuck to his skin. He winced as he took off his shirt, the area sensitive.

Although it was barely audible to the human ear, you heard his sounds of pain and turned in Xavier’s direction. Your eyes trailed down to his neck where the blood was dried and guilt filled you. He looked like he got attacked by a wild animal.

An animal with sharp fangs and a thirst for blood.

You discreetly watched him in silence, the rag still in your hand, and drew your lip between your teeth. You wanted to pounce on him.

‘’You missed a spot.’’

You snapped out of your staring. ‘’What?’’

Xavier stepped closer and took the rag from you. ‘’Here.’’ He tipped your chin to get a better angle and gently cleaned the blood you had missed. His eyebrows were pulled together in concentration and you could feel his breaths feathering your skin every time he exhaled.

He lifted his gaze and your eyes locked for a second — green meeting red. You tried your best to ignore the way his breathing had picked up and how his mouth was no more than half an inch from yours. His hand stilled, and he closed the distance between your lips.

You moan into the kiss and Xavier let go of the rag to cup your face, the kiss quickly turning desperate and hungry. His tongue was already in your mouth, gently caressing yours. He could taste the unpleasant metallicity of his blood, but he didn't break away.

Before today, making out with Xavier Thorpe was never something you had thought about. You found him snobbish, annoying and nosey. But now, his hands were on you — all over you —, and although your body temperature was of cold nature, you felt like your skin was on fucking fire.

Your left hand slowly trailed all the way up his back until you were touching the back of his neck while your other glided up his bare chest. You felt the envy to sink your teeth into him again, but before you could make a move, Xavier broke the kiss with a displeased groan, unlike you, needing oxygen.

His eyes never left yours as he ran a hand through his hair, out of breath. They were burning with desire. ‘’This vital need for oxygen is a curse.’’

A light chuckle left your lips. You grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him again.

—

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All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe x you #wednesday #wednesday imagine #xavier thorpe fanfic #this is almost 2k oops

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ravengards-rogue · 3 months

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✧ barbarian + gender neutral tav, bottom/sub gale, top + dom!tav, gutting a fish, horny to horny tadpole communication lol 18+

gale daydreams too long about the rough callouses on your hands on his skin.

you answer him in short sentences when he mentions them but he's come to realize this isn't disinterest. you just aren't one for talking much, and you listen to him intently. occasionally you'll remember something entirely arbitrary he's told you - and he'll feel his heart stammer like a boy in love and not a man of middle age.

he notices your hands first when he tries teaching you the weave. the times after, you're healing him because he's been battered relentlessly in battle. calloused hands - the kind of hands that wield weapons and massacre. gale has seen you rage so often, though he's never thought anything of it. you're polar opposites in all aspects but especially that kind of raw power.

(the story of them goes that you used to tussle with bears as a child. when asked to elaborate, you shrug passively. apparently all that matters is that you won more often than you lost.)

he likes your hands. your hands are calloused and scarred. all of you is scarred, but your hands especially. split knuckles and thick, coarse skin that's been split and healed with nothing but time. strong, capable hands that carry fresh hunt into the camp and butcher them close to the water so the blood can be washed away. his are soft and smooth, a calm life in the vibrant and advanced city of waterdeep has made them so. the most violence he's ever received until recently, a paper cut from an especially feisty tome.

gale spends too long looking at them. you notice his gaze, naturally perceptive. and gale - well gale flushes. he's leering, and his thoughts are all but appropriate.

he's not prone to shyness. but you're a little different from those he kept in his past. constructed with that sort of unfamiliar grit makes his stomach churn with desire that burns white hot. gods.

it's inappropriate - entirely. together at camp with a makeshift table and cutting board (a slab of wood, really). you're cooking together, and gale is watching you gut a fish. your fingers are soaked in blood as you carefully scale and clean skin. there's also a fresh body you've so morbidly carried for astarion to eat.

you glance at him, head tilted - brow taut with interest.

"something on your mind, wizard?"

"not particularly," he replies, trying to avert his gaze. you go back to your task, the barest amusement on your face.

"you're a shit liar." and then, as if you sense that you can't pull more out of him - he feels something electric brush against his spine. the tadpole, your tadpole. you reach out to him through it. the voice in your mind is entangles with his as he allows you to touch his thoughts. you never do so without being careful.

it's...oddly euphoric, makes his stomach feel honeyed with lust. a harsh way of speech coupled by a soft whisper. stop being lewd or you'll cook yourself on a flame.

it's an instant protest, though between you is only silence.

"lewd?" he says in a whisper yell. you don't reply to his exclaiming. nor do you mask your amusement. you're enjoying this. your hands make quick work of flaying the dead sea creature. the head goes into the soup. you dunk the bloodied carcass in water leaving delicate white fish behind, then you use a dagger to carve the bones from it.

the blood stains your fingers. even with the savagery you're always committing, your delicate with the flesh.

you press into his mind, a knowing glance at the way his eyes lock onto the gesture.

gale is hesitant to let you in again. you shrug.

"even if you don't want to tell me what ways you want me to fuck you," you say, low enough so that only gale hears it. "well. you're a bit of a lost cause on hiding it."

gale is so momentarily scandalized he just stops. a smile tugs at your lips as you look at him more directly this time. heat licks at his his calves, a little ashamed as he lets you in.

(the images conjured in his mind are imperfect but vivid. all of them terribly rough. his mind desires it more than his body, to feel the roguish warmth of your palms handle his limbs in ways so untender some gods would consider it against them. a harsh first around his cock or around his throat, thumbs pressing into pulsing heart. hardened touches rounded with tender praise.

fingers inside of him. gale laid out over your lap - tucked into you in some completely vulnerable way.

there's a single undercurrent desire, one for you make a mess of him and it's louder and more attention seeking than all the rest. the need to be under your thumb makes his cock twitch so hard it's painful.

he imagines himself spent in your arms, cumming helplessly. limp against the strength of your chest and arms. the thought makes his physical body shiver.

the idea lingers so deep in the recesses of his mind he wonders if they're being projected right.)

he severs the connection when the embarrassment catches up to him, waiting anxiously for whatever thing you might end up saying. there's a smirk on your face, a salacious little chuckle as you discard bones into a metal bowl fashioned on the slab you cut on. for an elongated moment, you're unreactive. it's so strange gale wonders if he might've conjured up the entire interaction.

you walk yourself around him to put something in the pot - fresh cuts of white meat, before you blow warm air against the back of his neck. he nearly jumps out of his skin.

your words are assured.

"didn't take you for a masochist," you hum, calloused palm underneath the velvet of his nightwear. he looks at you over his shoulder. you make it clear you mean every word of what you'll say. "but i'll fuck you however you wish, lewd wizard. try to focus on dinner for now instead of ogling."

with your task now finished, you place a single long kiss on the nape of gales neck before disappearing completely - slinking off into the night to wash your hands. gale feels blood rush between his legs as he clears his throat.

he grumbles as he waddles over to stir the pot, skin painted with pink and feeling no less horny than before. "easier said then done."

#zero.thoughts #d.rogues love letters #sharess' whisper #gale x reader #bg3 x reader #he deserves to be topped and bullied but i say this about all men i like #but especially especially gale #i spent way too fucking long on this lmaoo #i have an important test in 5 hours i havent studied for at all dfkjfdkj

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petchic101 · 11 months

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DA Elvish

I separated all of Dragon Age's known Elvish into Nouns, idioms ect

Nouns

Titles/Types of people/Groups

Anaris: – according to an old tale, he was once tricked by Fen'Harel while dueling the Great Hunter Andruil

Andruil: Goddess of the Hunt is the elven Goddess of the Hunt, known also as "blood and force" and the "great hunter."

Arlathvhen: Meeting of the Dalish clans that occurs every ten years. Means "for love of the people."

Asha'bellanar: "The Woman of Many Years." How the Dalish refer to Flemeth.

Da'len: Little child; little one.

Daern'thal: Known Forgotten One

Din: The dead.

Dirthamen: Keeper of Secrets, is the twin brother of Falon'Din and is the elven god of secrets and knowledge, and master of the ravens Fear and Deceit. Dirthamen gave to elves the gift of knowledge and taught them loyalty and faith in family.

Elgar: Spirit.

Dirth'ena enasalin: "Knowledge that led to victory"; the Elvish term for the Arcane Warrior or, more recently, Knight Enchanter disciplines.

Durgen’len: Children of the stone; the Ancient Elvish term for the dwarves.

Elgar'nan: God of Vengeance also known as the All-Father, the Eldest of the Sun and He Who Overthrew His Father—represents fatherhood and vengeance, and leads the pantheon with the goddess Mythal.

Elvhen: Elven name for their own race; our people.

Elvhenan: The name of the elven civilization before the arrival of humans in Thedas; the place of our people.

Era'harel: Demon-mage; similar to an arcane horror.

Evanuris: Leader; Translated by Dorian in context as "mage leader"; what the elvhen called their gods.

Falon: Friend.

Falon'Din: Friend of the Dead, the Guide is the elven God of Death and Fortune and guides the dead to the Beyond. He and his twin brother, Dirthamen, are the eldest children of Elgar'nan the All-Father and Mythal the Protector.

Fen'Harel: The Dread Wolf is an enigmatic trickster god of the elves, whose supposed betrayal of both the benevolent Creators and the malefic Forgotten Ones is the only explanation most elves have for the destruction of Arlathan. Dalish clans view him with wariness and seek to protect themselves and their kin from his treachery. It is revealed by Solas in Mythal's temple that this could be a misinterpretation by the Dalish and instead he was the god of rebellion.

Geldauran: Known Forgotten One

Ghilan'nain: Mother of the Halla is called the Mother of the halla—white deer-like creatures revered by the Dalish and used to pull their aravel, or "landships"—and goddess of navigation.

Ghil-Dirthalen: "One who guides seekers of knowledge true."

Ghilan'him banal'vhen: "The path that leads astray": a derogatory term for Arcane Warriors among those elves who eschewed physical combat.

Hahren'al: A gathering of hahrens during the Arlathvhen.

Hahren: Elder; used as a term of respect by the Dalish as well as by city elves for the leader of an alienage.

Harillen: Opposition.

June: God of the Craft is the elven Master of Crafts. He is variously described either as a brother to Andruil and Sylaise or as Sylaise's husband. He taught the elves to make bows, arrows, and knives to hunt Andruil's gifts.

Lethallin/Lethallan/Lethallen: Casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar; generally, lethallin is used for males while lethallan is used for females; lethallen has been stated to be the appropriate gender neutral term unless otherwise stated later in canon, though it is likely to remain the same. Note: Though "lethallin" is usually used for males and "lethallan" for females, as stated above

Lethanavir: Another appellation of Falon'Din the elven god of death and fortune who guides the dead to the Beyond.

Mien'harel: Rebellion; depending on the interpretation, a violent call for justice; a concept that when humans push the elven population too far they must remind them that even a "short blade" must be respected; most commonly a term used by city elf.

Mythal: the Great Protector, the Protector and the All-Mother, and goddess of love, is the patron of motherhood and justice and leads the pantheon with her male counterpart, Elgar'nan.

Shemlen: The original name elves use for the human race; continues to see use as a slang term amongst the City Elves ("shems") even though its meaning has largely been lost; literally "quick children".

Somniari: Dreamer.

Sylaise: the Hearthkeeper is the goddess of all the domestic arts and the sister of Andruil the Huntress. Sylaise gave the elves fire, and taught them how to weave rope and thread, and to use herbs and magic for healing purposes.

Vhenallin: Friends of the People.

Nature

Adahl/Adhal: Tree.

Adahlen: Wood.

Alas: Earth, dirt.citation needed

Dahl'amythal: Tree of Mythal from which Dalish Keepers’ staves are cut.

Durgen: Stone.citation needed

Elgara: Sun.

Felandaris: Demon weed.

Vallas: Set, as in the setting of the sun.

Vallasdahlen: Trees planted in remembrance of those who dedicated their lives to the Dalish kingdom that grew into a mighty wood; life-trees.

Vhenadahl: The tree of the people.

Vhen'alas: The land itself, as in "the ground"; literally "our earth".citation needed

Vunin: Day.

Animal

Fen: Wolf.

Hallas: are a type of horned stag; some are herded by the Dalish—who use them to pull their aravels, or landships. Their milk is also made into cheese and butter.[2] The Dalish do not consider them beasts of burden but noble companions. To get them to accompany a clan, the Dalish elves ask rather than force them to.

Hanal'ghilan: Elven name for the mythical golden halla said by the Dalish to appear during times of great need; the pathfinder.

Body/Self

Banal'ras: Shadow.

Renan: Voice.

Taren: Mind.

Vallaslin: Blood writing; The art of tattooing adopted by some elves to more prominently display their worship of the traditional elven pantheon.

Vhenan: Heart; often used as a term of endearment.

Concept

Abelas: Sorrow; to be sorry.

Aravel: A wagon used by the Dalish; also a physical and spiritual path, a journey with purpose. Humans call them "landships."

Atish’an: Peace.

Athim: Humility.

Bellanaris: Eternity.

Din'an: Death; end.

Din'anshiral: A journey of death.

Dirth: A term for knowledge or secrets; tell; speak.citation needed

Enasalin: Victory.

Enansal: Blessing.

Enaste: Favor.

Halani: Help.

Hamin: Rest.

Harellan: Trickster; used by the Dalish to mean "traitor to one's kin".

Melana: Time.

Melanada: All time.

Melava: Time;

Revas: Freedom.

Shiral: Journey.

Sulahn'nehn: Rejoice; joy.

Sulevin: Purpose.

Vir: Way; we.

Weapons/Equipment

Assan: Arrow.

Bor'assan: Bow.

Felassan: Slow arrow.

Mi: Blade.citation needed

Places

Arlathan: The major city of Elvhenan, original homeland of the elves; from the phrase "ar lath’an" meaning, "This place of love".

Banalhan: A name for the Blight or its place of origin; the place of nothing.

Dirthavaren: The promise; the Elven name for the Exalted Plains.

Halamshiral: The capital of the second elven homeland in the Dales; the end of the journey.

Setheneran: Land of waking dreams; a place where the Veil is thin.

Tarasyl'an Te'las: The place where the sky was held back; Ancient Elven name for Skyhold.

Vhenas: Home.

Vir'abelasan: The place of the way of sorrows; refers to the Well of Sorrows.

Other

Aravel: A wagon used by the Dalish; also a physical and spiritual path, a journey with purpose. Humans call them "landships."

Banalhan: A name for the Blight or its place of origin; the place of nothing.

Elgar'arla: Spirit-trap; a binding circle to hold a spirit or demon.

Eluvian: Mirror; literally "seeing glass."

Mi'durgen: Diamond; literally 'blade stone'.

Adjective

Eth: Safe.citation needed

Mirthadra: Honored.

Sa: One; one more.

Shem: Quick.

Tan: Three.

Then: Awake; alert.citation needed

Verb

Abelas: Sorrow; to be sorry.

Dirth: A term for knowledge or secrets; tell; speak.citation needed

Dirthara: Learn;

Dirthera: To tell tales.

Enfenim: To fear.

Ghilana: To guide.

Ghilas: To go.

Harel: To trick or deceive;

Him: Become.

Las: Grant; give.

Lasa ghilan: Grant/give guidance.

Lath: Love of being; to be in love.

Numin: Cry.

Nuvenin: Say, as in “as you say”.

Samahl: Laugh.

Somniar: To dream.

Sulahn'nehn: Rejoice; joy.

Sulahn: Sing.

Uthenera: The name of the ancient practice of immortal elves who would "sleep" once they tired of life; immortal; waking sleep; literally "eternal waking dream".citation needed

Pronoun

Ar: First person pronoun; I, me.

Mala: Your.

Mir: My.

Var: Our.

Vir: Way; we.

Ect

Banal: Never.

Dar: To be.citation needed

In: In.

Ir: I am.

Iras: Where.

Irassal: Wherever.

La: And.

Na: Is.

Pre/Suffix

-an: Suffix indicating place or location.

Da: Diminutive prefix; small.

Idioms

Andaran atish’an: "Enter this place in peace." A formal elven greeting.

Aneth ara: A sociable or friendly greeting, more commonly used among the Dalish themselves rather than with outsiders.

Ara seranna-ma: A way to excuse oneself, such as after a sneeze or belch.

Banal nadas: Nothing is known for certain./Not necessarily.

Boranehn: Lost joy.

Dareth shiral: farewell; literally "Safe journey."

Enasal: Joy in triumph over loss; a variation of joyful relief.

Falon’Din enasal enaste: A prayer for the dead.

Fen'Harel enansal: The Dread Wolf's blessing.

Fen'Harel ma ghilana: "Dread Wolf guides you." Indicates someone being misled.

Halam'shivanas: The sweet sacrifice of duty.

Hellathen: Noble struggle.

Ir abelas: I am sorry.

Lathbora viran: Roughly translated as "the path to a place of lost love," a longing for a thing one can never really know.

Nadas: Inevitability; something that must be; used as an expression of obligation, i.e. "must".

Ma nuvenin: As you say.

Ma vhenan: My heart; sometimes shortened simply to vhenan, "heart"; a term of endearment.

Ma serannas: My thanks./Thank you.

Mana. Ma halani: Help me.

Mythal'enaste: Mythal's favor.

Penshra! Ghilas vellathan!: Politely translated as "I prefer that you remain close."

Revasan: The place where freedom dwells.

Sahlin: Now; is come.

Sa'vunin: One more day.

Solas: Pride; to stand tall.

Solasan: A prideful place.

Suledin: The concept of finding strength in enduring loss or pain; endure.

Tel'abelas: I'm not sorry.

Telanadas: Nothing is inevitable.

Var lath vir suledin!: Our love will endure

Vir enasalin!: We will win!

Vir sumeil: We are close.

Commands/Threats/Curses

Bellanaris Din'an Heem: "Make you dead."

Dirthara-ma: "May you learn." Used as a curse.

Fenedhis: Meaning officially undefined as of yet; a common curse.

Fenedhis lasa: Meaning officially undefined as of yet. A common curse.

Fen'Harel ma halam: "Dread Wolf ends you." A threat.

Garas: Come.

Garas quenathra: "Why are you here?/Why have you come?" Spoken by the voices of the Vir'abelasan

Masal din'an: A threat, meaning unknown.

Na abelas: You'll be sorry.

Na din'an sahlin!: Your death is come!

Na melana sahlin: Your time is come.

Specific Sentences

Ar lasa mala revas: "You are free." More literally "I give you your freedom."

Ar lath ma, vhenan: "I love you, heart/my heart"

Ar-melana dirthavaren. Revas vir-anaris: Fen'Harel’s secret greeting. Meaning unknown.

Atish'all Vir Abelasan: "Enter the path of the Well of Sorrows."

Dirth ma banal. Mar solas ena mar din: "You have learned nothing. Your pride will be your death/downfall." A Dalish saying.

Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din: Roughly means: "Your pride is responsible for everything that has gone wrong; you will die alone."

Ir abelas, ma vhenan: "I am filled with sorrow for your loss, my heart."

Ir tel'him: I'm me again.

Ma banal las halamshir var vhen: You do nothing to further our people.

Ma harel, da’len: You lie, child.

Ma harel lasa!: You lied to me.

Ma ghilana mir din'an: Guide me into death.

Ma melava halani: You helped me.

Mala suledin nadas: Now you must endure.

Malas amelin ne halam: I hope you find a new name.

Melana en athim las enaste: Now let humility grant favor.

Sulevin ghilana hanin: Roughly translates to "purpose guides to glory". This is an inscription on the back of the Dalish shield called "The Path to Glory".

Sylaise enaste var aravel. Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris.: Dalish marriage vows.

Tel garas solasan: Come not to a prideful place.

#dragon age inquistor #lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #da2 #dai #dragon age 2 #dragon age #elven

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