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yinyangswings · 1 year

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If Luffy had a Child

Finding out you’re pregnant, at first you think Chopper is joking. You hadn’t been able to keep food down lately, but your mind had never gone to the idea of you being pregnant. And you are terrified but Luffy (after being confused at first) seems excited. The crew are more or less alright with it.

The running joke as the pregnancy continues is that it can’t be that hard in comparison to dealing with Luffy on a daily basis.

Luffy agrees with them. Much to your dismay

Luffy forgets to tell Ace and Sabo about the fact you’re pregnant. So imagine the surprise felt when they meet up one day in a random port and there you are, about 5 months pregnant. Their expressions are hilarious.

“Luffy’s going to be a dad?!”

“Wait…we’re going to be UNCLES?!”

After the realization clicks in, both men are ecstatic and they don’t want to leave. Not until after you have the kid at least. Because they’re going to be uncles

Cue both brothers telling their friends and their own crew the news. The cheers from the Moby Dick can be heard through the Mushi Mushi Den for miles and when Sabo tells Koala and the others at first there is silence but Koala starts laughing and says that Dragon looked absolutely stunned and had had to walk out. There had been a smile on his face though.

Despite it being obvious that you were pregnant, it didn’t really seem to register with Luffy. He acted the same as he always does. That is until one night while you’re resting and he’s laying partially on you, cheek on your stomach and the baby kicks him in the face. He blinks and looks at the spot where the baby was and you just laugh gently. Then his face breaks into a bright smile.

After that he is always checking up on you and talking to the baby whenever he can. You find it endearing.

You go into labor at the worst possible time. Marines attacked the Thousand Sunny and Luffy had made you get downstairs and hide. Which you hated. You wanted to help the crew but they all wanted you safe.

Then all of sudden you’re in immense pain and practically collapse. You feel something wet pass between your legs and you come into a startling realization. You’re in labor. With a fight raging on above you.

You’d have laughed if you weren’t about to panic.

You try to keep it down, to not alert either your crew or the Marines. Thankfully it seems Chopper sensed your pain or heard your muffled screams. Something, because he’s suddenly there and then Chopper is instructing you on how to deliver. You’re rather impressed with yourself.

You can only hope that everything is going well above and that Luffy is alright.

You nearly crumple at a sudden contraction. You hope he’s okay because you’re going to kill him.

Meanwhile the fight is over after a little bit. Not a surprise as they picked a fight not only with the Strawhats, but Fire Fist Ace and Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army Sabo are there.

However the feeling of victory is short lived as a cry echoes out from below deck. You. Luffy has a look of panic on his face and he is down the stairs like a shot, the crew and his brothers not far behind.

Seconds before he reaches the door to the room he put you in, another cry fills the air, this one certainly not yours.

And as he stands there frozen another wail joins the previous one, echoing over one another.

What feels like an eternity goes by, and then he opens the door and there you are, exhausted, sweat dripping off of you and tears sliding down your face. Chopper is flitting around two small squirming bundles that are in your grasp. And you’re smiling through your tears.

You look up finally and your smile widens. “Come here, Lu. Come say hi.”

And he does so, the quietest you can ever remember him being as he cranes his neck to see both small infants in your grasp. Twins, he hears. A boy and a girl. And they’re….tiny. Smaller than he expected, wrinkly, and pink. They have dark fuzz adorning their heads. But their little lungs are making sure everyone knows that they are both fine and dandy.

In the background, he can sort of hear his brothers beginning to sob because they’re now uncles. But he can’t hear them over the sound of his heartbeat.

When he’s handed one, he can hear her little heart beating under his fingertips. And for once in his life, Monkey D. Luffy is still, just staring at his kids. And then his face breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen.

The crew absolutely adore the babies when they meet them. Every single member of the crew, even Zoro, is grinning at the sight of the littlest members of their crew. It’s fairly obvious that those babies are going to be so spoiled. Likewise, Sabo and Ace are OVER THE MOON when they see their little niece and nephew, each one getting to hold one of them at the same time. To say they’re going to be doting uncles is an understatement. Those two are in love in the instant they see the two.

And it is chaos. That’s the easiest way to describe Luffy with his children. Pure and utter chaos. He usually has them wrapped up in slings on his chest and back and everyone can hear the babies squealing and giggling as their father bounces around Sunny having the times of their little lives.

The Strawhats find it adorable.

The one thing that there is little doubt about is that those two children are loved by the entire crew. If they’re not with one of their parents, they're with a crew member, always safe and protected. No one has to ever doubt that those crew members would protect those children with their lives

In the same vein, if anyone attempts to go after the twins, it’s not a question of if they die. It’s how.

Because if the Strawhats don’t kill them, if any of their allies get wind of what was attempted or done, there will be no rest until they’re either captured or killed by any of them.

Ace and Sabo would be in the lead.

Garp finds out about the twins months later. Just happens to cross paths with his grandson who is proudly sporting the twins in their slings as usual. Garp is…stunned to say the least.

“When did you grab those babies, you brat!?”

“They’re mine!”

“What do you mean they’re yours?!”

“Gramps, don’t you know where babies come from?”

“YOU IDIOT! OF COURSE I DO!”

The yelling continues for a long while, long enough for you to grab the twins for lunch time. At that point Garp makes his way onto the ship because he actually wants to meet his great-grandson and great-granddaughter face to face.

The twins are part of the exclusive group of people who can touch Luffy’s hat. They play peek-a-boo with it and regularly enjoy pulling it down their daddy’s face because when they lift it, he has a silly expression that makes them laugh brightly. They are his little treasures.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece headcanons #monkey d. luffy #monkey d. luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x you #monkey d. luffy headcanon #monkey d. luffy imagine #monkey d. garp #portgas d. ace #sabo the revolutionary #straw hat crew #jamfics

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vampyrsm · 9 months

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‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER ONE | TSUKUYOMI

‣‣ Synopsis: Our tale begins with the realisation that monsters and men are of the same ilk, and yet, in the dead of the night — everything goes horribly wrong. With only the moon as your witness, you come face to face with a real monster.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 4k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Cannibalism, set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, sexism, dead bodies, descriptions of wounds, dismemberment, female reader, reader is the daughter of the Shogun, reader is slapped by her father, reader is trained in how to use weapons, she's pretty badass, era-specific violence & views.

Men and Monsters.

There’s no difference between either of them.

That was what your father had drilled into you from a very young age. You were not to mistake one for the other and vice versa.

All men were monsters. All monsters were men.

At first, you didn’t quite believe him. All the men you had encountered at such a young age had been respectful to you; you being blissfully unaware of the silent threat that came with the Shogun’s glare in their direction when they’d bow and interact with you.

But then as you grew older and you were allowed to sit in on the Shogun’s army training, you slowly came to understand that yes — men are monsters.

The realisation hit you when you were just fourteen years old when you had been allowed to wield a Naginata for the first time. Of course, you had wanted to use a Tachi, the sword that every other Samurai used. A polearm such as a Naginata wasn’t often used, something that was clearly made to keep enemies away — of course, your father did this to ensure your safety, but still, you wanted to learn how to use a sword.

Training had been going well. Your body adapted easily to move with the Naginata, the wooden pole becoming just an extension of your arm and the sword at the end became just as deadly as any Tachi.

Your father had dispatched some of his older Samurai to ensure your training was done correctly. You were to be trained in the old ways; you were to become a weapon when called upon. They were ruthless in their training, strikes with their sheathed swords still struck just as hard as the metal would.

Bruises would appear on your skin and gashes when your skin splits under pressure. It was unsightly for a girl in your position, the daughter of the Shogun was just beneath that of a Princess and yet you still insisted that they kept up with the rigorous training.

And they did.

The dojo is quiet except for the whistling winds that blow through the open sliding doors. The floor beneath socked feet is smooth and shiny, freshly cleaned for movements to be as fluid as possible. There’s only yourself and your instructor; Kiso. He’s an older man, older than your father and yet he was one of the most fierce warriors you had ever seen.

He was cruel in his training yet he always looked out for you when he had to. He was something akin to a grandfather, if yours were still alive that is.

Kiso settles into his attacking position, his feet slide a shoulder width apart and his sheathed sword is raised above his head. This one was you knew he was going to be brutal in his onslaught; you had seen him beat his own comrades with this very stance.

He stamps his foot, a loud bang in the quiet dojo and that’s his signal. Attack.

The older man advances quickly, bounding footsteps that are double your own and a younger, untrained version of yourself would’ve frozen at the sight. But instead, you steel your nerve, you roll your shoulders back and shift the Naginata from one hand to the other.

Your body moves to the side when he brings the sword down from over his head, it cuts through the air despite still being sheathed. It barely grazes past your shoulder, and you’re given half a second to react. You watch his wrist turn just so, a strike that will no doubt be aimed at your neck.

So you move first, you bring the Naginata down to his dominant hand. The hand holding his sword. It comes down with a sick thwack, a crack of skin against the wood of your sheath. In battle, this would’ve naturally removed the hand holding the sword, a clean slice through bone.

You make your next move before Kiso can. You turn the blade outwards into the other arm holding the Tachi, your body stepping out of the way of the sword in case he decides to impale you on it. Kiso grunts at the feeling, your eyes raising to meet his and you can almost see the proud glint in his eye before it hardens. He’s going to attack.

Your foot is quick, a hard dig of your toes into the fat of his hamstring and immediately he crumbles to the floor. Kiso rolls, cushioning the fall as best he can on wooden floors and he falls flat on his back. The Naginata spins in your hand as you reposition it on your arm, your shoulder blade working until you have the tip of the sheathed blade pressed into his neck. You slice it along the flesh as you would in a real battle.

You win.

Kiso remains on the floor for a moment, your posture slowly straightening up. It had taken you nearly an entire year just to get to this point. You were nowhere near the level of Samurai in the Shogun’s army, yet you were still able to bring Kiso to the floor.

“Your form is still too rigid.” Kiso comments, pushing up from the floor with an aged grunt. He swipes the sheathed Tachi from the floor, holding it in one hand before he turns to you. “You hesitated before the kick. In a real fight, you would’ve died.”

You can only suppress the urge to pout so much, so you turn away from him for a moment. Strands of your hair stick to the sweat layered on your skin, the plain black kimono and hakama swish with your movements.

Kiso just huffs in amusement at your childishness, turning his attention away from you as you continue to sulk despite your victory. His eyes wander to the various open windows.

It was nearly Fall. The old Japanese Maple trees that shrouded the courtyard were starting to shed their leaves, flurries of red fluttering through the wind until they settled into the ground to rest. Fall and Winter usually meant war, it was a period of time when people would grow too desperate for food.

Being in a Palace gifted by the Emperor meant none of those issues ever affected you, nor the staff that worked for you. Yet the Samurai were so often dispatched under the orders of your father to stop the conflict in villages.

“I won’t be teaching you anymore,” Kiso reveals, and you turn on your heel to look at him. He keeps his back to you, the sword he was using tucked into the Obi at his waist. “Your father says that you’re to be trained as a Lady.”

That makes your nose scrunch up in disgust, your scowl is vicious and Kiso doesn’t have to turn around to know you’re glaring at him.

“But I’m not to be wed.” You spit, and Kiso’s silence only serves as an answer to your unsaid question – are you to be married? “I refuse.”

Finally, the older gentleman turns to face you. The face no longer belongs to your harsh teacher but rather the face of an older man, a man who cares for you.

He smiles weakly, “You have no say in the matter.” ‘You never have’ is what you know he wishes to say after.

And it’s as if it were all planned, the dojo doors slide open abruptly and in comes your father.

Immediately you drop down into a deep bow, the display of such respect even for your father is something that came naturally to you.

His footsteps are loud, booming and commanding. Quite the Shogun.

“Rise,” he grunts, his large arms crossed over his chest. You raise from your bow and immediately you meet the gaze of the man who had followed him in. He’s an older man, probably only five or so years younger than your father. Kiso all but bows, excusing himself from the room and that alone makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.

Your father always wanted Kiso in the room; he was his right-hand man after all.

“You’re to leave by nightfall.” Your father says, no, he orders. “Your marriage to the Otomaro clan will ensure our lineage continues.”

The man behind your father must be the clan leader, the man you’re destined to marry. It makes you sick. Your father continues to speak, no doubt going into detail about the schematics behind such a marriage but all you can hear is buzzing.

Like cicadas, they’re so loud. It makes it impossible to focus on anything, even the face of your supposed husband-to-be fading to be just a smudge of skin.

“No.”

The room stills and the cicadas silence themselves. You blink away the blur before your eyes and realise the refusal came from your own mouth.

“No?” Your father half snarls. “You dare to refuse an order made by your Shogun?”

Your lips part, and instead of words leaving your tongue, it becomes heavy with the tang of copper. The once shiny floor becomes tarnished by a spray of blood and spittle, and it continues to drip from your lips. He struck you.

Never in your life had your father struck you. Never in your life had your father commanded you as the Shogun.

All men were monsters. All monsters were men.

At the age of fourteen, that is when you truly realised the words your father had spoken to you.

Five winters had passed since you were sold off to the Otomaro clan. You had not seen your family since, but you didn’t need to. Word travelled fast that your father had been killed in a recent war that was waging through Heian-Kyo. After the news of your father's passing, you immediately lost value. You were no longer anyone's daughter; just the daughter of a man who would be forgotten when they ushered in the next Shogun.

Your husband had pushed you away, not that you complained much about that. You didn’t wish to have his aged hands on your skin, you didn’t want to smell his breath when he rolled over in the middle of the night.

Often you found yourself slipping out of the clan estate when night fell, the shadows danced when you moved through them. Only the geta beneath your feet made a noise against the loose stone path until it became muted by the long grass.

It was the very edge of the estate, the tall walls behind you were silent just as the forest was before you. Fireflies flitted through the air, bumbling amongst themselves. They were the only light in the thicket of fog that rolled through the trees, growing denser and denser with each passing second.

Dragging your eyes away from the view, you walk along a path you had carved out for yourself all those years ago until you stop before a small shrine. It had been here before you arrived, it was old and tattered yet served you well.

Your fingers brush along the shrine momentarily, before you press your hands together and bow in respect. Then you sweep down, unlodging the tachi you had stowed away for yourself. Kiso had never trained you with it, but the movements you memorised from him were enough to support you for years after.

You offer one final bow to the shrine before you venture further into the forest. The grass brushes against the long pants you had shimmied your way into before leaving your quarters, they’re similar to traditional Samurai trousers; Hakama. You walk until you can see the silhouette of the estate in the distance, and only then are you able to move freely.

The tachi comes free of its sheath, dropping into the long grass with a muted thud. You roll your wrist with the sword in hand, your shoulders loosening until you swing. Your body moves smoothly, movement no longer rigid as it once was as a child but now fluid as water.

The steel of the sword slices through the air effortlessly, cutting through thick fog as you continue to shift your feet beneath you in what could be considered a dance.

It’s nowhere as graceful as when you had trained with a Nagitana, as it would’ve been much harder to smuggle out a large polearm from the armoury that is housed in the east wing of the estate.

So you settle for the Tachi. You move, slash and huff out breaths with each swipe of the sword to ensure each of your strikes is as hard as they can be. You raise your sword over your head, both hands planted onto the hilt and as you bring it down to strike the invisible enemy before you — there’s a scream.

It’s loud, shrill like a woman. Your head turns sharply towards the estate, your eyes fighting through the fog to try and see if it had come from that direction. As the fog continues to ebb and flow, slowly it’s revealed that there’s an orange flickering flame in the distance.

The grass keeps your movements silent, just the rushing of footsteps through long grass that could be mistaken as wind. The estate grows larger and larger as you get closer, as does the fire.

Sure enough, it’s coming from within the walls of the estate, the gates you had passed through are now smashed open. Like something large had rammed its way through.

An attack on the estate? It made no sense. The Otomaro clan weren’t anything special; they were just influential when your father was in power. But that all turned to dust when he died, and you were the daily reminder for them that they were snubbed.

You venture in, moving past the busted wooden doors of the gate into the courtyard and it’s as if you’ve stepped into the battlefield. There are numerous bodies strewn around… all of them belonging to the Otomaro clan. Not one body of whoever dared to launch the attack.

There’s another scream, another womanly shriek that has you pushing forward. You step over dead bodies, uncaring for the blood that stains your feet and crusts the ends of your trousers. You follow the noise until you’re standing at the steps that lead up to the main house.

The entire front entry had been decimated, ripped and torn as if it were nothing. You’d never seen anything capable of such destruction. Not until now.

There’s a man. But he seems too large to be a man. His body is hunched over slightly, and there’s a wet crunching sound coming from just in front of him. A river of blood flows from around his feet, flowing down the steps you had taken a liking to sit upon in the mornings. A small part of your mind continues to whisper over and over; he’s eating someone. He’s eating someone. He’s eating someone. You don’t want to listen, you don’t want to believe that you’re seeing that but it’s indisputable when you watch him discard half of the body he was feasting on.

It hits the wooden floor with a sickening thud, a crack of a skull as the head lolls over until you’re staring into frightened eyes. They’re wide, no doubt she had been alive when the man had started to feast on her. Death was no stranger to you, often you had seen the results of men dying in battle when you lived with the Shogun.

But this is different. The woman before you was someone you had considered a friend, she was a maid yet she was always so gentle with you. She laughed with you, combed your hair after a bath and didn’t tell a soul when she caught you sneaking out of the estate.

Instinctively your hands curl around your blade, fingers pressing into the hilt and your foot slides along the loose gravel until you’re in a defensive position. Your bicep covers the lower half of your face, and the sword is raised above your head.

As if sensing the shift of air behind him, the man turns. Sharply. And you falter.

That was no man, not anymore. His arms, all four of them widen his stance when he settles his gaze upon you. And just like his arms, there are four eyes that stare down at you. He’s gigantic. Terrifying. He looks like something your mother had told you about when you were just a child.

He is no man, and yet he is a monster.

His bloodied face cracks into a violent grin, sharpened teeth stained with blood and littered with sinew glint in the pale moonlight.

“They teach you whores to fight back now?” His voice is smooth, rich and deep yet booming. Your muscles tense up when he gets up to his full height, you hadn’t even realised he was sitting down to enjoy his meal.

He towers over you by far too much, and suddenly your sword feels like nothing but a dagger in your hand. His head rears back, all four of his glowing red eyes are locked onto you and you can tell he’s enjoying this too much.

“I do like a woman who can fight back.” He comments, a lazy hand scratching along his stomach and you make the mistake of following the movement. There’s a mouth on his stomach. He’s wearing a partially opened kimono, bearing his second mouth and allowing easier movement of both his arms as they flex at his sides.

“They always taste better with a bit of salt on the skin.”

And with that, he’s moving. Fast. He’s coming towards you quickly and it takes all of your internal screaming to get you to move. You just manage to sidestep out of the way of a swiping hand, claws slashing at your clothes.

With his back to you, you swing your arms down and around so your blade collides with his back. You make a slicing motion and it glides along his skin effortlessly, blood beading in the wake of your strike and normally, that would be enough to make a man flinch in pain.

Instead, the monster laughs. Loud and boisterous. He swings around again, and this time you have to dodge all four of his arms as they come around to try and grab you. You rotate the blade in your hands, slamming the blade against one of his wrists to bat it away and it opens him up enough to slice your sword upwards along his chest.

Blood sprays in the wake of your attack, and yet he still laughs. He laughs, and he laughs. His movement unhindered by the wounds that continue to ooze blood, and that’s enough for him to lunge at you like a tiger would at its prey.

You’re shoved down into the stone path roughly, the small rocks digging into your body as the monster above you continues to bear down all his weight on you. He’s grinning wider now, leaning down into your space until you get hit by the stench of blood.

Your eyes drag along the tattoos decorating his face, darting towards the second face he wore. It was melded flesh to his own, and his eyes attached to it are watching you with rapt enjoyment. He’s lapping up the frightened look on your face.

“Hah,” he breathes, “I suppose they don’t train you whores too well.” His fingers curl into your shoulders, claws sinking into flesh as if you were made of paper and your teeth grit together in an effort to stop the bubbling scream in your throat – yet that still only excites him further.

He leans in closer, so close you can feel the warmth of his breath and the smoothness of his nose as he presses it to your cheek. He’s unashamed in the way he inhales deep, the musk of sweat on your skin and the delicate notes of the flowery-scented water you bathed in nightly.

“I hope your muscles aren’t too tough to chew. I prefer them soft… much like that brunette whore–” The monster above you splutters, blinking in what must be surprise as he stares at you.

Slowly he leans out of your space, and your body moves slightly with him. Both of your hands hold steady on the hilt of your blade, the blade which is buried deep into his stomach. He made the mistake of opening his second mouth when he had leaned in, so desperate to taste the salt on your skin.

It’s buried deep into his flesh. And by the look on his face, it might be the first time anyone had ever managed to inflict such a wound on him. His large fingers brush along the edge of the slack mouth on his stomach, swiping through the blood that continues to spill and trickle down along the blade.

“You–” He starts, upper eyes snapping to you and then you strike again. With all remaining energy, you drag the blade upwards. It slices through him but not without effort. You meet the resistance of bone, of thickly corded muscles and even the thickness of his own heart. The blood that sprays from him is like rain, it splatters against your skin and it burns.

Like acid.

The monster snarls, a wet sound that rolls up his throat after rumbling through his chest. Your muscles grow tired, falling lax once the sword slices free of his chest leaving behind a gaping wound. It clatters to the floor next to you, your body falling with it back onto the stone path.

The four-armed monster still holds you beneath his body, and two of his arms are preoccupied with attempting to feel through the fatal wound that was inflicted on him. Finally, his eyes shift back to the source of his newfound pain, and you realise now that perhaps when you were fourteen years old – your father was not a monster.

This. This was a real monster. As he unhinged his jaw, bloodied fangs his choice of weapon it seems as he descends upon you.

You feel the first contact of his teeth, a deep pain that resonates from your shoulder and it simply becomes too much to bear. Your eyes flutter closed, and the final thing you see is the shrouded moon as it hides away behind clouds; hiding from the bloodshed.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | Next Chapter

#dead dove do not eat #tw gore #tw violence #cw dark content #tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader

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sexydoffyman · 4 months

Text

day 30 - CAPTURE AFTER CHASE

Phillip Graves

navigation

genre: smut

mdni

A lil TW: there's a bit of Stockholm syndrome.

You weren't really an enemy of his. You didn't work under any organisation or army. But you did certainly mess things up for him. When he saw what you did, he understood that his downfall was not your goal. Your little attack didn't even look like a threat.

Really, he was wondering what it was about for a while. One revolver and a sniper rifle missing. One man dead. Three injured. 30k missing. Something that he doesn't want to overlook but is not that big of a deal due to the size of Shadow Company.

He first thought that there was a spy amongst his men who was gathering some stuff to attack. What bugged him about the whole situation was that two weeks' worth of food had also gone missing.

He figured that the person who did this must have been only gathering supplies needed for survival. The harmed soldiers just got in the person's way. After this little incident he started noticing you more and more often.

He always figured it was you. You left black burn-like marks on the ground, and everyone was killed in a similar way. Graves didn't make connections between these two cases at first because he expected you to kill mostly with your sniper. After looking a little more into it tho. He realised that you always used your teeth or a knife and then finished the person off with a revolver. The same way you killed one of his men.

He was intrigued by you.

He got lucky when he spotted you after running into a freshly killed man. You were about 60 meters away already. Fortunately for him, you were heading into a forest near the spot where your killing took place. He knew that forest, so he ran around you to not make you aware of his presence.

Once in the forest, you felt someone was watching you. In your years of experience, you learned to trust your instincts. And that's exactly what you did. You tried to hide behind a wide tree. You were looking all over the place while not making a sound.

Suddenly, you heard his footsteps. You made a run for it. Bushes scratching the skin of your forearms, air drying up your eyes. You ran for your life. You heard him getting closer as you frantically thought of a way to get away from him.

Unfortunately, you didn't think fast enough.

He jumped at you, pinning you below him. "Asshole", he laughs, putting a gun to your head. "You stole 30k from me." He says almost threateningly. "What about the poor man I killed?" You questioned his morals. "He is replaceable." He said with a little guilt in his eyes. You thought about it he wasn't completely heartless. Maybe you'd be able to get out of this forest alive.

"You gonna shoot that thing?" You provoked him. "You want me to?" "You're talking like you want something." He chuckled, looking over your form. "You took a body from me. It'd be only fair if you'd give me one." He paused and then added. "Just for a couple of minutes."

"Exchanging lives for sex?" You were back to questioning his morals. "You want to live?" He said it in a teasing voice. "Sounds like we have a deal." You chuckled yourself at the situation you ended up in.

He tore your pants off of you while pulling his dick out. He held the gun to your head and kept pushing your body to the ground while thrusting into you. He was fucking deprived. You shoved no signs of resist.

He liked that. You took whatever he threw at you. I assure you he'd never go easy on you after what you pulled. He just fucked the shit out of you. He caught himself thinking about how adorable you looked. Tears in your eyes, your face pushed against the wet dirt and bark of the dark forest.

He wasn't planning on being nice with you. You looked so fucking dumb. His dick stretching you as he finished inside of you.

Be more aware of your surroundings and make sure no one is watching you when you leave the scene. He gave you a fucking advice when he left. Cocky asshole.

Strangely, he started noticing a certain sniper covering for him on his missions. How adorable.

#cod x you #cod x male reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #philip graves #graves #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #graves x you #graves x male reader #graves x female reader #cod x gn!reader #cod x female reader #philip graves smut #graves smut #cod kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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s-sugustar · 14 days

Text

Drown me in your tears, kiss my bloody lips —

ℳ．𝖮’𝖧𝖺𝗋𝖺

{ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 } : dark, dub-con, aphrodistic, stalking, peeping tom, yandere!miguel o’hara, miguel is a total pervert, not proofread!

{𝐰𝐜} : 4.3k

At the age of 15, you saved shops from being destroyed, catching culprits and webbing them to the wall for the police to throw in jail. You were having fun, you enjoyed being your friendly neighbourhood spider woman. At the age of 19, you told your mother who you were. At the age of 23, you lost her.

There was some villain attack, an army of four men, with weapons holding some extra-terrestrial energy. Their leader, the Falcon, a man with metal wings caused terror throughout the city. Two buildings started to collapse, and time wasn’t really on your side; so, with all that you had in you, you pushed past everything and swung through the air, wind rushing past you as you webbed others to safety. You were jumping from two buildings, webbing people to safety, and pulling others out of the way from falling objects.

Until you heard a scream, you swiftly looked to where the scream came from. A woman falling from a building and not just any random woman. The bright yellow coat, with black polka dots, gave her away; but it could’ve been anyone with a bright yellow coat with black polka dots. Yet, her screaming didn’t stop and the low rasp from her yelling shot adrenaline through you.

You heard that voice before, when your father had been around, it was late in their marriage but it was still there. Day and night, their voices raised through the roof. Often you hid in the closet, fearing that the yelling would take another turn. Fortunately, it never did, but the arguments did leave an imprint on you as a small child.

As you pushed off the street, soaring through the air, your hand outstretched towards her while the other angled towards a stable building to which your web shot towards her. You called out to her, hand outstretched as you were so close to grabbing ahold of her.

“MA!” you yelled, immediately diving for her, a web shot out towards her. The ground seemed closer, a bit too close so you pushed yourself just a little bit more. Everything around you slowed as your mother reached out to you, eyes filled with tears. The web reached but she had already touched the floor, her body bouncing back up from the impact.

“No.” you landed next to her, hands trembling as you moved the hair from her face. You pulled the mask away from your face, as it felt suffocating to be in. “Ma?” you shook her, eyes not believing that she was gone. “Mom, come on. Wake up.” You shook her again, your fingers finding her wrist to feel for a pulse but there was none. The weather had a weird connection to how we feel at this moment, as your tears socked the red shirt of your mothers, so did the rain.

It had been 4 years since your mother passed and you were in your apartment with your cat, Cloud, relaxing on the couch as the TV played some sort of old cartoon you watched as a child. Suddenly, your hand stretched out to a vase that was nearby, webs latching onto the glass before pulling it back to you. Placing your cat quietly into the chair, you stalked towards your bedroom, after your spider senses went off.

Swiftly kicking the door open, you threw the vase without much aim, expecting to break on impact yet no breaking of glass was heard; just you with your hands webbed together with webs that were crimson red, a flow of electricity flowing through them. You look at both of the perpetrators, eyes squinted with your teeth sharp in the night light.

“She’s got fangs just like you.” you heard, a woman’s voice to be exact. In all fairness, you barged into the room, not bothering to turn any lights on to startle the perpetrators but at this point, you realized it was needed. As you reached into the room, you patted the wall in search of the light switch, upon finding it, you flicked the switch on to reveal two people.

A very tall man with an abnormally slim waist that somehow complimented his broad shoulders and bright red irises that glowered down at you. The lady next to him was not as tall, although she had height, she was not as tall as the man next to her. What did shock you was not the eerily similar suits they had on but the fact that the woman had been pregnant.

“Who are you?” you asked, standing firm as you looked up and down the two people who stood in front of you. You had no idea how they arrived here since, number one, your building was three stories up; but by the looks of their suits that were very similar to yours, they didn’t seem to have much of a problem for that aspect.

Number 2 was that, your windows were locked, well the one in your bedroom was, when you were at home. The much taller man spoke, “We need to talk to you.”

That discussion between you, Miguel and Jessica had been around 3 years ago. Around the same time they allowed you to work alongside the Spider Society. You had been curious about the Spider Society but you liked to work alone, another trait that Jessica teased you about, that both you and Miguel had in common; so you only joined 7 months after you were given the opportunity. The Spider Society wasn’t as bad as you thought it would’ve been.

Many of the spiders treated you well, Peter B and Jessica were the ones who you had been close with you. In many of the missions you had, you were either with Peter B or Jessica, to your contentment. You were close to Gwen and Hobbie, the two growing on you after Peter B and Jessica: the feeling of younger siblings to you.

One thing you all had in common was that you all lost someone close. It seemed to be ‘the canon event’ that all spiders had to go through; not a pleasant thing to experience.

Miguel O’Hara. A stoic man with no emotion shown on his face, other than irritation. The relationship you had with Miguel wasn’t to a title of some sort. You acknowledged each other, he praised you for your efficiency and work and you respected him. Although some of his values were questionable you kept those questions to yourself.

You hardly ever had missions with him but when you did, they were quick with little to no words spoken between the two of you. He gave you an order and you followed, no buts, no ifs or maybes; not that he would hear you voice.

At this time, you were called in to go on a mission with Miguel; neither Peter B nor Jessica had been available so you were the next best option. On this particular mission, the anomaly had more power and endurance than all the others, you encountered and it was also much stronger than Miguel anticipated, making this job go on a bit longer than necessary which caused Miguel to be more irritated than usual.

"On my call, you go from behind, Do you understand me?" Miguel declared, moving his neck from side to side to relieve the tension that had been stuck within it. You grunted in response, ready to get this mission over with so you could go back home and spend some time with the Persian cat you named Cloud. You were perched on top of a roof, lying in wait for Miguel's signal.

Although quite close to the fight, you weren't exactly able to see Miguel and the anomaly, so you webbed over to another building where just as you looked down, you saw that damage that had been done, not only to both Miguel and the anomaly but to the city as well.

Though it wasn't your concern, you still felt bad for the people who lived on this earth. Your focus on the damage to the city was pulled away when you saw the said anomaly smash Miguel into a nearby building.

"Miguel!" you scrambled out, unsure of his current state; still perched on top of the building but unfortunately God hadn't been on your side today. Upon calling out to Miguel, the said anomaly snapped its head to where you were, a snarl forming on its lips as it stood from its place before shooting up, barreling towards your figure. "Shit." you moved from your position, dodging oncoming attacks from the anomaly.

You hadn't seen when Miguel returned to the fight but one thing you did notice was that he wasn't himself. That meant he was more ferocious than normal. His eyes were darker than usual, you were no longer able to see his irises; everything was covered in red.

The fangs were no different to the menacing look he had in his eyes. They seemed sharper, pointer and the tip and the snarling that fell from his lips seemed way more sinister.You had no idea what had happened to him, but you knew that he wasn't himself.

The fight was long and tasking but you two were able to fight the anomaly off before imprisoning it and sending it back to HQ. Miguel stood in front of Jess who had a strong hold on the anomaly. The conversation went unheard to you as you observed Miguel's behaviour. Gruff, hunched over, stiff and stoic, although it was the usual, it seemed more rushed as if he was in some sort of hurry.

After his conversation with Jess, you walked over to where he stood, your body facing his as you took in his features, head tilting slowly as you looked up to him. His breathing was shallow, fists tightly closed, you swore you saw some bit of blood dripping from his hands. You looked back up to him, locking eyes in the process before he turned away, stopping you from looking at him.

"Go home," he said, a second passed by before he continued. "I'll finish up here." It sounded forced but you didn't pry. "You alright?" you asked, taking light steps towards the man.

To which were stopped, when a low growl emitted from him. you asked again, "Miguel, what did that anomaly do to you?" He whispered something under his breath, the first few words you weren't able to catch but the last few you barely caught. ".... you need to leave." He started to walk away but you insisted on staying; you wanted to figure out what was happening with him.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me what it did to you, maybe I can help y-" You weren't able to continue talking when Miguel spun around, nose flared and claws showing. His canines were longer, dripping with drool as he stalked towards you.

To say you were scared was an understatement. You had seen the way he dealt with Miles a few months back and you wished that you were never on the receiving side of things, but God wasn’t on your side once again. The grabbing of your jaw wasn't what startled you but it was his claws that sunk into the fat of your jaws causing you to wince.

You wouldn't be surprised if a little bit of blood had started to ooze from within. Once Miguel saw that his grip on you was way too harsh, he pulled away.

A sour look on his face as he turned away from you. A sigh fell from his lips, he truly didn't want your help with his 'problem' but knew you would pester him until he broke so he decided to speak. "It's some sort of substance under the anomaly's claws, it caught me by the rib and it's uh-. You know how I'm different to all the spiders, yes?" The topic being switched didn't go unnoticed by you, but you kept quiet; nodding in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue.

"Whatever it is, it has affected my body, causing me to go into pre-rut." He trailed off, clearly not wanting you to hear the ending but you caught on; much to his dismay.

It was quiet for a while, Miguel felt ashamed, and you were unsure as to how to feel. "Oh." The only word you could formulate at that moment. He knew you wouldn't have taken what he said, plain as day and he knew rejection was close and, on the rise, so in hopes of keeping his peace, he mentally prepared himself for you to either be disgusted or to simply walk away. While Miguel felt this way, you on the other hand, had been mentally weighing the pros and cons of A, leaving him, B, calling for back up or, C, letting him take his anger out on you in his moment of weakness.

You weren't sure as to what would happen after if you chose A, B or C but one thing was for certain, if you chose C, the dynamic between the two of you would change drastically. Whether you both pay attention to it or not. But you wanted to him help and not from the point of view that you could say you had sex with him but so that he wouldn't have to go back and find some random woman to take his anger out on.

After a few moments of internally weighing the pros and cons of all three, you quietly made your decision. "I can help you," you spoke rather confident with your decision. Miguel on the other hand, wasn't so pleased. "No no, you don't understand. I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, hand pinching the crease between his eyebrows; he was stressed. It was an odd little thing you picked up on from time to time. You still stood your ground, not bothering to listen to his worries or reasons.

Once he saw your posture, he knew you had no plans of leaving just yet. "Y/n, I'm not myself when it happens, I don't know what will happen to you if I let you do this." You lightly shrugged, not necessarily caring about what the outcomes were; you just knew you couldn’t let him go back to headquarters right now. “I’m not taking no for an answer so let’s go back to my place.” You slowly coaxed the stressed man into going back to your earth. Once you made it back, the both of you swung into your apartment via a window that you normally keep open for when you are on Spider woman duties.

Miguel took note of such but said nothing. Making it into the bedroom was the easiest part but the tension that came after was unnerving. You were about to break the silence but Miguel, strangely enough, was quick to speak, immediately shutting you up. “Don’t talk,” he murmured, his lips flush against yours, his hands groping the flesh of your hips.

You whined against his lips, hands flat against his chest as he pushed you back to the end of your bed. “Off. Take everything off.” Miguel pleaded, struggling against the burning pit that was brewing in his stomach. You hurriedly took off your suit, and as soon as your shoes were off, your back was met with the sheets of your bed.

Miguel paused as he looked down at you, his eyes were no longer chocolate brown but a deep crimson red, peering into your soul. His stare was unnerving, chills running down the back of your spine and your stomach churning; it was like an unsaid command, you couldn’t look away, for you thought it felt foreign. The stare-down the two of you had didn’t last long as Miguel pushed you right against the headboard, both hands pulling part of your thighs as he leveled himself with your pussy.

He looked down at your panties, not bothering about the wet spot that had been there before he ripped them off. “Hey, those were my favourite,” you whined, causing him to blast a web against your mouth and hands. “Quiet,” he ordered, his eyes shifting from yours back to your pussy.

The amount of restraint that forced Miguel not to pounce on you as hard as it was already but he hadn’t put into thought the amount of aphrodisiac that the anomaly would’ve used. The moment he had gripped your jaw, he could smell the desire that reeked from your body. It was disgusting but not hard for him to fall for and relish. Without anyone stopping him, he could finally take what is rightfully his, what was always rightfully his.

His nose bumped against your clit as his tongue slipped inside of you, eyes closing in peace as he heard the muffled moans that fell from your lips. Desire ran through his body as he continued to lap up your juices, one hand gripping tightly onto the side of your thigh while the other rubbed circles against your clit.

If that was enough for you, his fangs grazing against your lips caused a tingling sensation to bubble within your stomach. You needed something to hold onto or to grab but with your hands bound, you couldn’t do much other than to wrap your legs around Miguel’s neck, evidently pushing the man further into you.

The feeling was too good, your mind started to fog, too caught up in the pleasure that you were receiving. Miguel could smell that you were close, the way your eyes squeezed shut, tighter than they already were; your legs tightening their hold on his neck, and the sultry way you moved on the body.

“Mi-Miggy. Need more,” you whined, tears forming at the sides of your eyes as you looked down at him; his ruby eyes piercing yours. Although the webbing muffled your words, because of the aphrodisiac, his senses had increased somewhat. To him, it seemed like you were begging for it. But, you weren’t going to get what you wanted just yet.

Miguel pulled away with a pop, saliva dripping down his chin as he came back up. A cry left your lips at the sudden movement, causing the man above you to smile. Your pussy had been puffy with your clit swollen, a light flick to your clit caused you to cry out. Shaking his head, Miguel pulled down his boxers, exposing the tip of it to you. It was pink and swollen, pre cum dripping from the tip.

With one hand, he held one of your thighs in the air so that he could have better access. God, did he struggle; the way both his cum and your juices were pooling out onto the bed and he hadn’t even put it inside you. How he had webbed your mouth shut but still wanted to hear you scream. It surely was conflicting.

Yet you were here, whining and crying over two of his fingers and his tongue. How pathetic. Lining up with your entrance, he pushed into you slowly, still aware that you may be a bit sensitive from before. This time, he pulled the webbing from off your mouth, he wanted to hear you. Better yet, he needed to hear you.

His teeth snagged away at the flesh of his bottom lip, causing blood to seep through. Your back arched at the stretch, not feeling much in ages. Now, the stretch wasn’t what had concerned you, to be far it felt good but it was the coldness from his dick or at the sides of them that make you ponder; only coming to the realisation of what it could truly be.

“Miguel, do you have a Jacob’s Ladder?” you gasped, feeling the metal rub against your insides. Miguel was silent, pausing in slight shock at your question. He looked away from you, slightly embarrassed, “Got in college when I was younger.” He admitted, causing you to giggle at his embarrassment. He growled in return, “Let’s not forget where you are right now, yea?”

“Or what Miguel?” You snipped, a smirk bright on your face as you stared back up at the man. To your surprise, he smirked back at you, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. “Keep that same energy princess,” he replied, no longer keeping eye contact with you as his eyes drifted to where the two of you were connected.

You were about to put in another snide remark when Miguel’s thumb found your mouth, his finger shoved inside as he gave you a look. “Suck.” You did as you were told, letting your tongue explore all around his finger.

“Do they bother you? The piercings I mean?” he asked, with one hand on your jaw whilst the other traced your hips. You shook your head, still sucking on his thumb that had been in your mouth for quite some time. Determining that his finger was wet enough, he pulled away from your lips, wiping away the drool that fell from your mouth.

“Good,” he murmured, hands gripping onto your hips as he thrusts inside of you. You cried out, not expecting the stretch from him. Your hands found his biceps, pleasure spreading all over you as you squeezed his flesh, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had crescent-shaped marks in his skin.

“Ay. You feel good y’know that?” Miguel asked, hips adjusting to thrust deeper; his hand finding its way alongside your jaw before gripping at your throat. Not hard enough to stop your airflow but just enough pressure to make you whine in desperation. Miguel tried hard enough not to sink his teeth into you; his fangs had already been lowered, teeth glowering in the night light, eyes ruby red as he stared down at you.

Unfortunately, enough for you, tears clouded your vision, so you weren’t able to see Miguel’s eyes glow red or the cloud-nine feeling that you were currently experiencing to feel the way he gripped your waist a tad bit tighter than before.

To say the least, you were far gone in pleasure, head nowhere near the current situation. Miguel on the other hand, was not so well. Just like you, he got a bit too caught up in pleasure, how warm you felt around him and the pleas and moans that fell from your lips didn’t help his case either. Miguel started to babble, words falling from the pitiful man’s lips; oh, did he start to spiral. “A-always knew y-you were gonna b-be good f’me.”

He uttered, eyes staring down hopelessly at you. Hips stuttered as he felt you tighten around him. You were close, he could smell it dripping off of you. Stuffing his nose deep into your shoulder blades didn’t soothe his overpowering need to fill you up. Your scent suffocated Miguel, his delusions pulling him deeper into the abyss of darkness. His mind is no longer in control of his movements, they now work on their own. Feeding into the massive hole that his heart created after his wife and daughter died.

It wasn’t right, they shouldn’t have died but canon was canon. Until his monitors picked up you on the servers. You weren’t a new spider since it took Miguel years to develop such software but the anomaly that entered your dimension brought up your earth on the monitors for the first time.

Locking in, Miguel watched, his eyes shifting over each computer as you fought off the anomaly, eyes never leaving your figure until the anomaly was down. Yet, it didn’t stop there. Many days Miguel found himself focusing on your Earth or well more on you; your movements, your fighting style, the way you would nuzzle your nose against your cat’s fur early in the morning when you came back from your late shifts.

The more he watched, the more obsessed he became. It wasn’t supposed to get this far, Miguel was supposed to watch you and how you work but he let his mind wander. He let his heartache again and his mind followed in pursuit. Miguel hated himself for the man he was becoming, a hopeless fool, wanting to nothing but security and peace. Someone to hold him late at night, kiss all his scars away and bear his children in years to come and you, you fit the profile.

You were everything that he needed and so much more. “A-all mine.” Miguel was down and under, suffocating from the spirals and delusions he suffered. His hips thrusted harder into you with every growing minute, fangs dripping with venom as his got closer to your neck. You could feel the tip of his fangs, the sharpness the entail.

“Gonna m-make -shit- you my w-wife, and fill y-you -christ- will all my kids. J-just you and me.” he whispered into your ear. Oddly enough, you hadn’t been too far gone as he thought you would have been. Your clouded eyes came back to full vision when Miguel finished his sentence. Eye bulging wide open as you looked toward the man in fear. He kept murmuring, unaware of your fixed state.

“Mi-Miguel stop.” you pleaded, arms hitting at his shoulders as a sign that you didn’t like it anymore. The said man shook his head in response. “No, no. Al-almost there.” he whispered, tears coming to his eyes as he looked down at you. “Our little family y’know.” He whispered, a sliver of a smile on his face, ruby eyes staring down at you while you shook under him. Tears filling your eyes as you looked up to the man who hovered over you. “What?” you cried, arms pushing against his chest but his dead body weight kept you in one place, so your pushing was pointless. “I’ve -mmph- w-waited so long for you.”

Sweat beaded against his forehead as he rutted into you; hips stuttering slight. You figured he was close, the way his thrusts slowed, his breathing slowed. There wasn’t any way for you to get out of this, so you accepted it. Accepted whatever this thing was. Finally, squirts of cum filled your insides, securing your fate. “I can’t wait to see your stomach big and round y’know. I’m glad you decided to help me. Letting that anomaly run wild and do its thing on me really set my plan into motion.”

#yandere #yandere tw #tw yandere #— 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐕 !#—𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚!#— 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓!#— 𝐬-𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐫 !#miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #x black!fem!reader #x black fem reader #x black reader #black reader #black fem reader #atsv x reader #atsv x black reader #atsv x black!fem!reader #dark content

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luna-writes-stuff · 6 months

Text

If I Knew, Nikolai Lantsov

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Hurt/comfort, some angst

Word count: 3405

Tw: I used Y/N like three times (I know, I deserve to go to hell). Mention/descriptions of injuries, losing consciousness, battle and blood. You go into very light shock (fanfic authors aren’t medical professionals!! At least, this one isn’t). Nikolai worries, cries, then worries some more. Naked Nikolai but doN’T GET ANY IDEAS. This is hurt/comfort only.

Summary: A sudden attack on the Volkvolny renders you unconscious, and Nikolai and his group rush to a safe place, doing their best to keep the survivors alive. You wake up in one of your and Nikolai’s shared quarters, and come face to face with Nikolai’s worried state. He’s there to gently help you wake up.

Requested by @notoakay

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“Loneliness seems like an evil dream. Reality is life and life is here.”

Mere seconds ago you had on the deck of the Volkvolny, getting your drinks as you talked with the crew members. Only seconds ago you were comfortable and at ease. And then suddenly, you were clutching the balustrades for dear life.

The attack had come out of nowhere. You knew the risk that came with offering the sun summoner transport, but you hadn’t expected the darkling to find her as quickly as he did. The shadows came before you could even see the sky darken. Innocent men and women who you had talked to only minutes prior had fallen torn in parts upon the floor, their dead eyes staring straight into yours.

“Mal!” You heard Alina’s voice carry over the darkness, trying to summon just a little bit of light. Over her voice, you heard Nikolai’s, calling out your name. You remained frozen in place, unable to speak, sheer shock coursing through you. You wanted to shout back at him. Assure him you were fine and that he should stay put. But you couldn’t.

“Once my heart was ruled by emptiness. Harmed because of being too sincere.”

“Y/N!” A second shout bore through the darkness, now closer. A rough jolt rocked through the ship as your back harshly collided with the balustrade you were holding onto. A ragged breath tore through you upon impact, your arm now clinging in an uncomfortable manner.

A gentle hand was laid upon your shoulder, followed by a second one that reached up to your cheek. Turning it slightly, you were faced with Nikolai, concern laced within his eyes. Looking at your hands, he grasped them slowly, untangling them from the balustrade as you let out a hiss.

“I know, darling,” he tried to shush. For a second time, the ship shook heavily, sending Nikolai against the balustrade as well. His arms wound around your waist, clutching to you tightly. One of the darkling’s nichevo’ya swung out to hit the pair of you, only narrowingly avoiding you when a burst of light seared through the air. A loud explosion was heard as the ship suddenly began to turn on its side in the air. Shouts and yells were heard all around you as your hands refused to let go of the fence behind you.

Now dangling above utter darkness, you could hear Nikolai shout commands. More light emanated from the ship as it was turned back, now descending rapidly. You didn’t know if the darkling’s army was still there, or if there even was any other threat lurking around the corner. You were focused on the floor below you, coming closer with every incoming second.

“But now that you've crossed my way. Could it be we found it again?”

Nikolai shifted slightly beside you, still holding onto you as the commands kept flowing from his mouth. The muscles in your arms had nearly atrophied from the amount of pressure you were putting them under. They felt red hot, your hands shaking wildly, almost losing its grip.

Before you could spare a second look to the panicked crew, a final explosion was heard, blowing the ship in half, violently falling to the floor. You braced upon impact, your muscles hardened as you failed to resist the scream tearing from your throat.

A loud ringing was heard in your eyes before you felt your body jolt against the floor. The tension in your muscles snapped suddenly, your arms falling down limply as you let out another shout. The back of your head harshly collided with the balustrade, a dull ache settling in before white spots danced around your vision. A bitter taste filled your mouth as your head fell against Nikolai’s chest. It was only then that you realised he had fallen onto the floor as well.

The last things you recalled was your call for aid, the pain in your limbs and the rough pounding on your head. Then, you collapsed beside him.

“If I knew that I'm your only one I could live and make it through time.”

He had been awake during the entire endeavour. Having had his fair share of accidents, he managed to relax during the fall, limiting his injuries to a handful of bruises, a terrible headache and two potential broken bones.

He had heard your call for aid, and the panic laced within your words. He had tried to assure you, his hands still tightly on your waist, but your full body weight had already fallen on top of him. Initially, it had torn a slight chuckle out of him - a sign of relief. But when you failed to respond to it, he was quickly silenced.

“Darling?” His voice was filled with concern as he slowly lifted his head. “You okay, there?” When you failed to respond yet again, he immediately sat up straight, taking care in handling you accordingly. “Hey, Y/N?”

It was then when he saw you hadn’t been awake to begin with. Your entire body hung limply around him as your head felt heavy against his shoulder. A deep, unnerving feeling entered the pit of his stomach, an inexplicable emptiness suddenly filling him. He felt his heartbeat speed up tremendously as he copied your earlier cries for help. Arms clung to you in a desperate attempt to keep you close, words of reassurance muttered through his pleas, his eyes running from the left over crew to your unconscious figure in his arms.

“But if one day you just be gone I wouldn't know how to ever get by.”

Nikolai considered himself patient most of the time, but the wait for help had felt too long in his eyes. In truth, he had sat there for a handful of seconds, no longer than a minute, but it felt as if he had been waiting for at least half an hour. He didn’t dare move any more than he already had, still unaware of the extent of your injuries.

When a heartrender managed to steady your heartbeat, he should have felt relief. Instead, he just felt dread. Yes, you were alive, but the state of your well-being would remain a question until you woke up. There were people out there who needed him more than ever, but all he could do was stare at you as two healers leaned over you, exchanging hushed whispers and silent gazes. You were stabilised, but how far would that even get you? He had no way of knowing. And the not knowing was what scared him the most.

He was always on top of everything. What could go wrong and what could be done to avoid that? These were questions he offered solutions to daily. Of course he had thought of a possible attack of the darkling, but he hadn’t truly anticipated it. He had tried to run his crew through the whole emergency landing protocol, but through panic, most abandoned logical solutions and resolved to fighting that which could barely be fought.

“How can I make you feel secure? We're both the same, I'm king and you are queen.”

When the army found him and the remainder of his group a couple minutes later, his full attention had been on you. You had to be safe, that was his priority now - sun summoner be damned. The whole trip to safety couldn’t be short enough for him.

When the group had finally found a safe haven, you were transported to your room immediately, the guards followed by four healers, which had already been waiting at the entrance. Anticipation grew heavy in his features as he followed them swiftly.

“Sir, we will need a complete-“ “Not now.” He muttered over his shoulder, not halting his footsteps as Tolya and the captain of the guards ran after him. “Nikolai, do you want me to-“ “Not now.” The prince repeated, stopping quickly to turn around and face the others. “Get everyone cleaned and bandaged up,” he spoke to the captain, then turned to Tolya: “And take over until I’m back. No one leaves or gets out until they have gotten proper permission.” The man nodded back at him, before turning around, his hand on the back of the guard as he forced him to leave with him.

As soon as the two had affirmed their order, Nikolai continued to follow the group of Corporalki, opening the doors to your room for them as they placed you on top of the bed. As they worked on the full extent of your wounds, he paced the floor, his mind racing a thousand miles an hour. His entire childhood he had learned to remain calm under any situation: put on a smile and a wave. No one needs to know the struggles of a prince. But at this exact moment, all of that knowledge had flown out of the window.

“Understand you make me breathe again Tell me all your thoughts and I will see.”

It wasn’t until one of the healers finally rose, wiping a bead of sweat off of her face, when Nikolai stopped. “She will be fine,” The woman spoke, trying to reassure Nikolai. “Her arms need rest and she will have one hell of a headache, but all major injuries have been sustained.” With those words, the other three rose as well, bowing their heads in respect to their prince before walking out of the room.

When he was finally alone, he collapsed onto the empty space in the bed next to you, a heavy sigh escaping him as a shaking hand ran through his hair. “Thank the Saints.” He muttered quietly, leaning forward as his elbows rested on his knees, his head falling in the palm of his hands.

Trying to calm his breathing, his leg bounced, getting rid of all excess energy. A choked sob left him as his head fell deeper. Only now, when all adrenaline had faded, the urgency of the situation had begun to dawn on him. He could have easily lost you had he not found you prior to the fall. Had he not been next to you, your landing would not have been as soft as it had been. He had been prepared, but you hadn’t. You always travelled with him. Why had he not prepared you?

His eyes trailed to your sleeping figure, tears welling up in his eyes as he finally realised the close call. Nearly falling off of the bed, he fell to his knees, his hands finding yours as he rested his head against it, a second sob escaping him.

“Darling, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled against the bruised skin. “I’m so sorry.”

“Take my hands and we'll be there. Together someday somehow.”

He stayed like that until he couldn’t cry anymore. Until all apologies had left him and all he had was exhaustion. Even prior to the fall, it had been a busy day. He remembered standing atop the Volkvolny and awaiting the moment until he could return to his bed and just rest for a while. And now with the adrenaline being gone and the tiring travel he had just gone through, all he really needed was some rest. He could recognize that easily. But he wouldn’t give into it.

If you would wake up and he would be asleep, he wouldn’t forgive himself for that. He had fallen unconscious many times, just to wake up alone in an empty room. It was terrifying: no one to tell you what happened or to comfort you. And he refused to let that happen to you.

So, he sat on the chair beside you, forcing himself to sit upright to make the desire to sleep less appealing. He had tried to read, but his mind wouldn’t allow him. He simply sat there, peeling at the scabs of wounds that had dried blood all around it. He should probably get cleaned. Might be a fresher sight. The bathtub was only a short call away. He could easily hear you if you woke up. It was in the same room to be completely fair. There were two guards outside who would be there if anything were to arise.

He really did not want to leave your sight, but it had become difficult to fight the fatigue in his body. Being submerged in water might be a good method to stay awake. And all the dirt and blood had begun to feel uncomfortable on his skin, almost begging to be removed.

A short moment wouldn’t hurt.

“If I knew that I'm your only one I could live and make it through time.”

Your skin had been cleaned by the healers, thankfully. They had even taken the liberty to change you into fresher clothes, before gently tucking you in. Besides the dull pull on your arms, you had been extremely comfortable. A familiar scent washed over you as you felt the weight of a warm blanket over your figure. You could faintly hear the exchange of people outside your room and the splashing of water. Opposed to your latest memory, this was a pleasant place.

You turned under the blankets, carefully testing your surroundings. A shot of pain soared through you as you tried to use your arms to shift. An involuntary hiss was let out upon the feeling as you peeled your eyes open carefully. Faint light luminated the room, giving you a view of your personal room. The curtains had been drawn shut - the light came from inside.

The more you found yourself waking up, the more you were able to recognize and identify. The splashing hadn’t come from the gardens, it came from the tub. As was the painful groaning of a familiar voice. As you took your time to observe all of it, a harsh pounding was felt against your head, the feeling forcing you to close your eyes again, forgetting everything you had seen seconds prior. Dizziness filled you as brief ringing was heard in your ears.

Blindly trying to reach for your nightstand, where you would usually keep a glass of water and painkillers, the strength in your arm failed, forcing it down as you knocked the empty glass off of the cabinet. You could hear it shatter on the floor, causing you to groan in annoyance and pain, the sounds only amplified.

“But if one day you just be gone I wouldn't know how to ever get by.”

You forced your other arm to cover your eyes, attempting to shield you from even more sensories. You could hear the splashing stop from the other room, before quick, wet footsteps made its way over the floor. A sigh of relief was heard as the bed dipped beside you

“Good morning, darling,” He tried to cheer, gently laying a hand on top of your arm. You let out another groan, this time in recognition. There was silence for a short minute, assumingly to observe the mess on the floor. Then, he spoke up again. “How are you?”

“Head.” You just mumbled, hoping it was enough for him to understand. Having known each other for as long as you had, he thankfully did, rubbing your arm in assurance. “I’m going to get you some water.”

The footsteps faded slightly, water falling apparent from the other side of the room before Nikolai returned. The bed dipped beside you, his leg now resting against yours. “You need to sit up,” He encouraged, placing the new glass on the headboard. His hands carefully slid under your body, lifting your upper half up. You tried to help him, but your arms crumbled underneath your weight. “It’s okay,” Nikolai soothed, noting your struggle. “I got you.”

“I wouldn't know how to ever get by. If I knew that I'm your only one I could live and make it through time.”

Placing himself behind you, he allowed you to rest your back against his chest, his arms underneath your armpits as he held you upright. He reached out to grab the glass from his side of the bed, placing it in yours. Clumsily, he reached over to your side of the bed, grabbing the pain killers. Again, he placed them in your hand.

You recognized the tablets in your hand and was able to lift it just enough to properly take them. The water glass, however, still appeared too heavy, and almost tipped out of your hold. Nikolai’s hand fell under your elbow, keeping it upright as you finally swallowed the pills down. You let out a heavy sigh once they were all gone, handing the cup back to him. As he set it back, you reopened your eyes, scanning the room again. Nikolai’s hands connected with each other around your waist, allowing you to take everything in individually.

“When did we get here?” You finally whispered, turning your head to the side, now able to hear the steady beating off his heart. His chest heaved slightly at the question, a sigh escaping him simultaneously.

“Just today,” He answered. “You were out for a couple of hours.”

You hummed at that, silently grateful that you hadn’t been out for a couple of days. You knew Nikolai worried. You didn’t need him absent from his position for a week. Be that as it may, you were thankful to find traces in the room that pointed to his presence: the three empty cups that had likely contained tea, the pile of books with Nikolai’s bookmarks between them, the dirtied clothes of him haphazardly strewn over the desk chair, the half eaten plate of food. All traces of silent worrying.

“But if one day you just be gone I wouldn't know how to ever get by.”

“You smell nice,” you whispered, not fully comfortable in the quiet ambiance that had begun to grow. A low chuckle reverberated through his chest as he placed a kiss in the crook of your neck. “Well, I was cleaning until someone smashed an expensive glass to the floor.” “‘m sorry,” You apologised half-heartedly, forcing the pounding in your head down. It was only then that you realised Nikolai’s chest had still been damp with the water he had been in previously. He must have left immediately after hearing the glass shatter. The thought of it made heat rise to your cheeks, regardless of the amount of times you had seen him without anything on.

“You should get dressed,” You offered, your voice sluggish as the active part of your brain decided to slow down. “You’re trying to get me to put clothes on?” He put emphasis on ‘on’, the innuendo not going unnoticed by you. You dismissed it.

“I interrupted your bath,” You stated, your eyelids falling shut again. “Yes,” he agreed. “But I was already clean. It was a simple distraction.” “Distraction?” You repeated tiredly.

He was quiet for a while, a lone hum coming from him. You didn’t think you would get much out of him now. Judging by the state of the room, you figure he hadn’t slept either. He must have been exhausted as well.

“I wouldn't know how to ever get by. I wouldn't know how to ever get by.”

“They were working on you for hours,” He then spoke. "I needed to find some distraction or I would combust out of worry.” Though he tried to laugh it off, you recognized the sincerity in his voice.

“‘m sorry,” you apologised again, but - once more - it was dismissed: “Don’t be,” He muttered against the skin on your shoulder. “I’m just glad you’re okay now.” A silent ‘me too’ escaped you as you nuzzled closer to him, relishing under his touch. His arms left your figure briefly, fiddling with the ends of the blanket as he pulled them to cover him as well. “Would be quite a sight for the guards.” He tried to joke, before returning his hold on you, getting comfortable as well.

“Get some rest,” he urged through a whisper. “You’ll find sleep does wonders.” You didn’t respond to that. Instead, you slowly, painfully turned in his hold, making sure you would wake up without any muscle aches besides those you already held.

“‘Night, Kolya.” You mumbled, your hand lazily finding his as he entwined them together. He held them up to his face as he kissed our knuckles lovingly.

“Goodnight, darling.”

“I would simply break down and cry.”

#november writings 2023 #grishaverse #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #patrick gibson

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hello-nichya-here · 3 months

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Azula's mommy issues how it does (and doesn't) affect her personality and theoretical redemption

Ah, Ursa and how she ties into a possible Azula redemption. I recommend you get a snack and some water, because this answer is gonna be a long one XD

Before we even get to the dynamic between these two characters and how it informed Azula's actions, let's remember THE main thing that is responsible for Azula being the way she is: Indoctrination.

Her nation had been waging war against the rest of the world for 100 hundred years. Azula is 14. For 86 years her family had been telling everyone, including themselves, that the war was just, it was for the good of the world and of the Fire Nation, it was "sharing their glory", it was just them taking over land that was rightfully theirs because of "divine right to rule" (something Azula herself says to Lu Fang when she's taking over Ba Sing Se).

We see children cheering for a puppet version of Fire Lord Ozai in a festival, as he defeats an "evil" Earth Kingdom general. We are explicitly shown that Fire Nation schools lie about things like the Air Nomads, a pacifist culture, having an ARMY that Sozin's men attacked, framing it more as a mutual conflict between equals in which the Fire Nation won, instead of a sudden attack against an entire group of people that were just minding their business.

We see IROH write a letter about how he hopes his family can see Ba Sing Se IF THEY DON'T HAVE TO BURN IT TO THE GROUND to conquer it - and not only do Zuko and Azula both laugh, URSA is also laughing.

Azula was raised to believe her nation had every right to do all the attrocities it commited. And just like Zuko, she is still a teenager, not an adult like her dad, uncle or mom - and while they had less excuse than the Fire Siblings for not knowing any better since they were already grown, they do still have more excuse than Azulon and especially Sozin, since they were ALSO raised to believe that stuff was perfectly normal.

Even if Ursa had been a perfect mom, Azula would likely still be a villain, though maybe less bitter and insecure over feeling unworthy of love (but that would not disappear completely, since Ozai was still an abusive dad that very clearly expected perfection from his children at all times, which is way too much pressure to put on anyone, let alone on two kids. And since she was his favorite, she'd obviously try to copy him, so she wouldn't end up like Zuko, so her more cruel, ruthless side would also be very present).

HOWEVER, that does not change the fact that Ursa's flawed parenting had a deep impact on her daughter.

For starters, even the creators/showrunners and writers of the show have said Zuko is her favorite child - and a parent playing favorites is NEVER good, even if they don't downright abuse the one they don't like as much. And for a kid that is in an abusive home, seeing her brother be treated as completely worthless because he is not the favorite, it isn't that hard to understand how Azula concluded that, if her mom didn't like her as much as she liked Zuko, it's because she didn't like her AT ALL. Add in Ursa's concern over Ozai's influence over Azula and how it's shaping her personality, plus the fact that she said "What's wrong with that child?" WITH AZULA IN THE ROOM, and we have the source of her belief her mom didn't just dislike her, but also saw her as monster.

Because yeah, let's not forget Azula had TWO parents. Two parents that clearly wanted very different things from their children. Ursa was cool with all the imperialism stuff, but she was horrified at the thought of the family being at war with itself, fighting for the crown. She was a bad guy, but she had standards. Meanwhile Ozai was clearly on team "stab everyone in the back to get what you want, then rule by fear." Once her mom was out of the picture, Azula naturally felt like her dad had essentially proven his method was better, since he ended up getting everything he wanted (though Azula does question that in the finale, when she imagines Ursa of all people trying to make her see trying to use fear to force people into supporting/loving her would only further isolate her, showing some part of her DID internalize a point of view that did not align with Ozai's).

But even before Ursa was forced to disappear from her daughter's life, she was already failing to connect with her, but not solely because of Ozai. Think about it. We see lots of scenes of Ursa spending time just with Zuko, and some of her with both of her kids - but never do we get even a single scene just between her and Azula.

When Zuko immitates Azula's bad behavior (because he thought it was cool and funny) and throws bread (not a rock like the fandom insists, BREAD) at the turtleducks, Ursa is visibly shocked and distressed, but she EXPLAINS to Zuko why what he did was wrong (it hurt the baby turtleduck, and thus made the mother mad) in a VERY light-hearted way that he clearly remembers fondly. When Azula says things about Azulon being likely to die soon or Iroh being pathetic, Ursa is shocked and distressed - and either just says "Azula, we don't speak like that" or a very angry "Young lady, not another word" but without ever trying to explain to her why what she did was wrong.

Meanwhile, ZUKO actually says things like "How would you like it if Lu Ten wanted dad to die?" or explaining that Iroh gave up on conquering Ba Sing Se out of grief for his only child. Those two scenes were the CLOSEST Azula got to having someone actually try to explain things to her in a way she could understand - but obviously she's not gonna take her brother as seriously as she would an adult, and Zuko has his own stuff to deal with so he can't step up and be a replacement parent to her like Iroh was to him (and considering how young he was at the time, expecting him to do so would be unreasonable - hell, he likely didn't even notice just how badly Azula needed help until she had her breakdown).

Things get worse if we take the comics as canon (which I don't, but I know a lot of people do). On that version of the story, Ursa goes from "Making effort, but screwed up along the way" to "Neglectful/abusive piece of shit that should have her kids taken away."

Comics!Ursa's idea fo "quality time with her kids" involves talking solely to Zuko and ignoring Azula, instead of interacting with both of them. She doesn't encourage them to spend time with each other like she did in the show. When she is banished, she visits both her kids - but only wakes Zuko up. He gets a sweet farewell so he always gets to remember that, no matter what happened, his mom loved him and did not want to leave him. Azula doesn't get a single word, and is left to believe her mom didn't even bother with her.

Worse of all, Ursa CHOOSES TO FORGET HER OWN KIDS. After she had explicitly said she does not believe they are truly safe living with Ozai. After she explicitly said to Zuko "Never forget who you are." Not to mention, she writes a letter with the fake claim that Zuko is actually NOT Ozai's kid - because she knows he will read it and get mad. She risked putting her son in danger just to piss off her husband. That's what she did to the kid she LIKED. How low would she go if the kid in danger was the kid she didn't care for? Oh, wait the comics answer that too. She never bothered asking ANYTHING about what had happened to her all those years (nor to the kid with a scar on his face, mind you), showed more empathy towards her when she COULDN'T remember who she was (and even then it was just a "If I really am your mom, I'm sorry I didn't love you enough." That's it. That's all Azula gets), and she doesn't do ANYTHING about Azula running away. No asking Zuko or someone else to find her, no crying about losing her again, no indication that she is worried about her safety even though she is all alone and mentally unstable.

The comics really did Azula dirty, and I HATE Ursa in it. It reached the point of "I don't want these two to make up, I want Azula to give a whole speech about how much her mom sucks, just like Zuko did with Ozai" because that's what she deserves. Show!Ursa made mistakes, Comics!Ursa IS a mistake. The sympathy for Azula despite her bad actions grows significantly on that version of the story, because how the fuck can we speak her to not be so mad at the world after all that?

But at last, we need to make an important distinction clear here: It doesn't matter if we are talking about the comics or the show, if we like or dislike Azula, if we do or don't want her to be redeemed, the simple fact still is that she WAS screwed over her entire life, her troubled relationship with her mom had a deep and longlasting impact on her mental health, and there was no way in hell she would have EVER been an innocent little angel that is 100% against everything her evil father does. It's just impossible considering her backstory.

And there is a very clear double-standard in how people talk about the idea of a redeemed Azula VS the reality of a redeemed Zuko. Both start with the premise of "This bad guy has understandable, sympathetic reasons to do bad things, since they were indoctrinated from birth and had a terrible family life", both include the character having to see how their actions are hurting them AND others (including those they care about, Zuko's "victim" being Iroh, while Azula's are Mai and Ty Lee. Plus, they've both hurt each other in some ways, some more deliberate than others), and both culminate with the character turning their life around, confronting those who wronged them, and finding a support system for themselves.

Yet one is treated as revolutionary despite not being the first redemption arc ever (nor the only redemption arc in the story itself), nor being perfectly written (because perfect writting doesn't exist), while the other is labelled as lazy, out of character, or "making excuses" for bad people just because they had a tough life (like Azula is an actual person). There is no thematic or moral difference between redeeming Zuko and redeeming Azula, especially in a show that says "EVERYONE has the potential for great good and great evil" and ends with Zuko telling his abuser he hopes he'll also have a change of heart someday, even if he is not sticking around to witness or actively try to make it happen.

Redeeming Azula is no different than redeeming Zuko. It's perfectly fine to want to just one of these things instead of both, but it is NOT a superior choice in anyway, and it's very hypocritical of the same fandom that criticizes the idea of a redeemed Azula because "mommy issues isn't a good enough reson" when they can't stop praising the redemption arc that has "the villain had daddy issues" as it's core premisse. Personal preference is one thing. Being a dick about it is another.

#actual human child azula #literal child soldier azula #azula meta #azula deserved better #azula redemption

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highly-invested · 8 months

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Dalinar studied him, taking note of his burned and bloodied uniform. Finally, he spoke. “I have multiple reports of you and your soldiers letting enemy Fused go once you’ve wounded them.” Kaladin relaxed immediately. That was what Dalinar wanted to talk about?

“I think we’re starting to reach a kind of understanding with them, sir,” Kaladin said. “The Heavenly Ones fight with honor. I let one of them go today. In turn, their leader—Leshwi—released one of my men instead of killing him.”

“This isn’t a game, son,” Dalinar said. “This isn’t about who gets first blood. We’re literally fighting for the existence of our people.”

“I know,” Kaladin said quickly. “But this can serve us. You’ve noticed already how they’ll hold back and attack us one-on-one, so long as we play by their rules. Considering how many more Heavenly Ones there are than Windrunners, I think we want to encourage this kind of encounter. Killing them is barely an inconvenience, as they’ll be reborn. But each of ours they kill requires training an entirely new Windrunner. Getting back wounded for wounded favors us.”

“You never did want to fight the parshmen,” Dalinar said. “Even when you first joined my army, you didn’t want to be sent against the Parshendi.”

-RoW ch. 10

This little exchange has always bugged me a bit because Kaladin is just right here! heavenly ones can come back every 13 days for as long as there are singers on the planet, with all of their experience and skill, but if a windrunner goes down, they need to find a new partner for the spren, who then has to be trained (granted, minimally if they're coming from the squires), and climb the oaths, plus if a full fledged windrunner dies, all their squires drop out of the air like flies! Nonlethal combat TREMENDOUSLY benefits the humans here, why in the world would Dalinar want to upset that? And then, he just completely dodges Kaladin's obviously correct rebuttal and it doesn't come back up again, even though the code of honor between the gravitation users is what stopped Kal from getting swarmed in the tower when he was flying around with navani's fabrial!

#rhythm of war spoilers #rhythm of war #stormlight spoilers #stormlight archive #kaladin stormblessed

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whencyclopedia · 9 days

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Allied Bombing of Germany

The Allied strategic bombing of Germany during World War II (1939-45) had multiple aims, which included destroying Germany's capacity to produce weapons; disrupting transport networks and supplies of oil, steel, and coal; destroying the German air force; and breaking civilian morale. To these ends, industrial cities, factories, railways, airfields, and dams were struck throughout the conflict.

Secondary goals of the strategic bombing campaign by the British Royal Air Force (RAF) and United States Army Air Force (USAAF) included boosting home morale that Germany was paying a price for its invasion of Europe and bombing of Britain. Another aim was to demonstrate to the USSR that the Western allies were assisting the Soviet campaign on the Eastern Front. Some Allied commanders believed that the war could be won using air power alone, avoiding a land invasion. As it turned out, despite the bombers causing tremendous physical damage and the deaths of hundreds of thousands of civilians, Germany fought on, and only a land operation from the east and west would finally win the war.

Why Did the Allies Bomb Germany?

The official military objectives of the strategic bombing of Germany are indicated in several directives formulated by the Allied Joint Chiefs of Staff. The Casablanca conference in January 1943 noted that the objective of the bombing offensive was:

The progressive destruction and dislocation of the German military, industrial and economic system, and the undermining of the morale of the German people to a point where their capacity for armed resistance is fatally weakened. (Dear, 196)

The Casablanca objective was amended by the Pointblank Directive of June 1943. This emphasised the importance of destroying German fighter plane production in readiness for the D-Day Normandy landings (Operation Overlord) planned for the summer of 1944. Before the Allies could contemplate a land invasion of Continental Europe they had to achieve air superiority or their armada would be destroyed. The Quebec conference of August 1943 reaffirmed the objectives of Casablanca and Pointblank but removed the objective regarding civilian morale.

Other aims of the bombings, perhaps not officially expressed but there, nonetheless, were to show the British and American public and Russia that something was being done to take the war to Germany. In the absence of a land attack on Germany, bombing was the next best thing. As the German Armaments Minister Albert Speer (1905-1981) noted, the air war became "a second front", one that absorbed men and machines which otherwise could have been used on the Eastern Front against Russia and in coastal defences in northern France.

#History #Germany #RAF #RoyalAirForce

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dreamonseems · 1 year

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Líf

First raid

- Story eight of Líf series of one-shot stories about Ubbe, his reader wife, and their children. Every story will be different but within the same universe. Nothing will be in order, just random stories about their lives.

⚠️ Warning: Smut in this chapter!

- Ok I made up a place called Raven United so any race reading this can Imagine being the reader.

Summary: You go on your first raid. There's some trouble, but Ubbe is always there to protect you.

As the Viking army sailed towards their target, Y/N felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her veins. She watched as Ubbe and his brothers prepared for battle, their faces stern and focused. Ragnar stood beside them, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger.

When they finally arrived at their destination, she jumped off the boat, sword in hand. She followed Ubbe and the others, her heart pounding. They charged forward, their battle cries ringing through the air.

At first, she felt overwhelmed by the chaos of battle. She saw men fall around her, heard the clang of swords and shields, and smelled the blood and sweat of their comrades. But as the battle raged on, She found herself falling into a rhythm, moving with the others, defending herself, and attacking their enemies.

They fought bravely, taking down several of the enemy soldiers with their swords. She felt a sense of pride and accomplishment as she fought alongside Ubbe, knowing that she was proving herself as a worthy shieldmaiden.

After the battle was won, she felt a sense of exhilaration and relief. She had survived her first raid, and she knew that she had proven herself to Ubbe and the others. She felt more confident in her ability as a warrior and knew that she had a bright future ahead of her as a shieldmaiden.

After the successful raid, the warriors were in high spirits and celebrated around the fire with meat and mead. Ubbe was caught up in the moment and was laughing and drinking with his brothers, while Y/N sat a little way off, lost in her thoughts.

Suddenly, a warrior from their army approached her and started to flirt with her. At first, she politely declined his advances, but he became increasingly forceful and wouldn't take no for an answer. She tried to leave, but the warrior grabbed her arm and struck her across the face.

The sound of the slap echoed across the camp, drawing the attention of the other warriors, including Ubbe. He rushed over to her, his eyes blazing with fury.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ubbe growled, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The warrior, who was still holding onto Y/N, sneered at Ubbe. "Just having a bit of fun with the new girl. What's it to you?"

"She's my wife," Ubbe said through gritted teeth. "And I won't tolerate anyone treating her like that."

The warrior laughed. "Your wife? She's just a slave you bought."

Without hesitation, he drew his sword and charged at the warrior, engaging him in a fierce battle.

The fight was short-lived as Ubbe was an experienced warrior, and the offending warrior was quickly overpowered. In a swift move, Ubbe dealt the fatal blow, ending the warrior's life. Y/N, shaken but unharmed, watched on as her husband defended her honor.

As they entered the tent, Ubbe noticed how shaken Y/N was. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her hands were shaking. He sat her down on their bedroll and knelt in front of her.

"Shh, shh," he said softly. "It's okay. You're safe now." Ubbe held her close, stroking her hair as she wept

She clung to him, her tears wetting his shirt. "I just feel so overwhelmed," she admitted. "Everything that happened today, and that warrior... I don't know if I can handle this."

Ubbe tightened his hold on her. "You're stronger than you think," he said. "You proved that today. You fought bravely, and you defended yourself when that man tried to hurt you. You're a shieldmaiden now, my love. You're one of us."

She sniffled, looking up at him. "But what if I'm not good enough?" she asked. "What if you realize that and leave me?"

Ubbe's eyes softened. "I will never leave you, my love," he said firmly. "You're my wife, and I love you. You're the most important person in my life, and I would do anything for you. Please don't ever doubt that."

Her eyes met his, searching for any sign of falsehood. But all she found was love and sincerity. Slowly, she began to relax in his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I just... I get scared sometimes. It's a lot to take in."

Ubbe kissed her forehead. "I know. But we're in this together, my love. Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

Ubbe's lips met Y/N's. She felt a rush of warmth spread throughout her body. She could taste the mead on his breath as he kissed her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. His hands were tender as they cupped her face, and she felt his fingers gently stroking her hair.

She wrapped her arms around Ubbe's neck, deepening the kiss. She could feel his muscles tensing as he held her closer, as if afraid to let her go. The world around them faded away as they lost themselves in the moment, lost in the passion that burned between them.

Finally, Ubbe broke the kiss, looking into her eyes with a mix of desire and affection. "I love you," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I will always love you."

smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "I love you," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

Ubbe's hands roamed freely over her back, pulling her even closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

Their tongues danced together in a fiery tango, exploring each other's mouths as they lost themselves in the moment. She could feel her heart racing, her body trembling with anticipation as Ubbe's hands traced down her spine, sending shivers of pleasure through her entire body.

Their kiss grew more passionate, Ubbe's grip on her tightened. She surrendered herself completely to him, letting him take control as she felt herself slipping into a deep state of arousal.

Without breaking the kiss, Ubbe began to remove her clothing, one piece at a time, revealing her supple skin to the firelight. She felt her body heat up with desire, wanting nothing more than to feel his touch on her bare skin. She returned the favor, helping Ubbe out of his clothes until they were both naked and exposed to each other's eyes.

Their lips never once parted, as they explored each other's bodies with hungry eyes and eager hands.

"I'm going to show you how much I love you," Ubbe whispered in her ear as his fingers began to work on her core. She moaned in pleasure, her body responding to his touch. "Please, Ubbe," she whimpered, unable to hold back her desire any longer.

She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter with each passing moment, her body craving more of Ubbe's touch. She moaned loudly, her hands gripping tightly onto his muscular shoulders as he continued to work his magic.

Finally, when he could tell she was ready, he removed his fingers and positioned himself above her. "Are you ready?" he asked, looking deeply into her eyes. She nodded, a look of anticipation and longing on her face. With a deep breath, he slowly entered her, filling her completely with his hard, throbbing member.

gasped in pleasure, her body arching up to meet his as he began to move in a slow, rhythmic motion. She could feel every inch of him inside of her, and she loved it.

She moaned as Ubbe continued to move inside her with increasing speed and intensity. She couldn't believe how much she loved this man and how much he loved her, She felt safe and protected in his arms, and the pleasure he was giving her was beyond anything she had ever experienced before.

As Ubbe's grip tightened around her, she felt a surge of arousal coursing through her body. she moaned, her fingers digging into his skin as she held on tight. "More."

Ubbe's smirk grew wider as he heard her words. He growled, his pace quickening. "Look at you, Wife taking me so well, so deep."

She couldn't speak, lost in the pleasure that was consuming her entire being. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, and she knew that Ubbe was right there with her. They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies in sync as they reached the peak of pleasure together.

#fanfiction #fanfic #bjorn ragnarsson #ragnar lodbrok #sigurd #ubbe fanfiction #ubbe imagine #ubbe ragnarsson #ubbe x reader #vikings #ubbe ragnarsson x you #ubbe x you #ubbe ragnarsson x reader #hvitserk #ubbe #smut #ubbe lothbrok #ubbe smut #ubbe lothbrok x reader

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footprintsinthesxnd · 3 months

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USAAF Flight Nurses

So as I’m currently collabing with @major-mads on a fic where our two ocs are flight nurses I thought I do a little post about them as they aren’t well know. I’ve also had a passion for ww2 nurses, including flight nurses and so I’ve really enjoyed sharing my flight nurse knowledge with Mads as we have written our fic. These woman were truly amazing, like many woman during ww2, so I thought I do a little factual post about them.

Before World War II, the U.S. military showed little interest in using aircraft and flight nurses to evacuate wounded soldiers to rear areas. However, the global war forced the US to revolutionise military medical care through the development of air evacuation, which was later known as aeromedical evacuation and flight nurses.

With the rapid expansion of USAAF air transport routes around the world it was made possible to fly wounded and sick servicemen quickly to hospitals far from the front lines. This helped save the lives of many wounded men, and the introduction of flight nurses helped make it possible.

Due to a pressing need for this service, the USAAF created medical air evacuation squadrons and started a rush training program for flight surgeons, medics and flight nurses at Bowman Field, near Louisville, Kentucky.

The increasing need for flight nurses became critical after the Allied invasion of North Africa in November 1942, however many of the nurses at Bowman Field had not finished their training. Nevertheless, the USAAF sent these nurses to North Africa on Christmas Day.

On Feb. 18, 1943, the U.S. Army Nurse Corps' first class of flight nurses formally graduated at Bowman Field.

Due to the C47s used as air evacuation also transported military supplies, they could not display the Red Cross. This meant that without any markings to indicate their non-combat status, these evacuation flights were vulnerable to enemy attacks. For this reason, flight nurses and medical technicians were volunteers.

To prepare for any emergency, flight nurses learned crash procedures, received survival training, and studied the effects of high altitude on various types of patients. They also had to be in top physical condition to care for patients during these rigorous flights.

Eventually, about 500 Army nurses served as members of 31 medical air evacuation transport squadrons operating worldwide. It is a tribute to their skill that of the 1,176,048 patients air evacuated throughout the war, only 46 died en route. Seventeen flight nurses lost their lives during the war.

The Flight Nurses Creed

I will summon every resource to prevent the triumph of death over life. I will stand guard over the medicines and equipment entrusted to my care and ensure their proper use. I will be untiring in the performances of my duties and I will remember that, upon my disposition and spirit, will in large measure depend the morale of my patients. I will be faithful to my training and to the wisdom handed down to me by those who have gone before me.I have taken a nurse's oath, reverent in man's mind because of the spirit and work of its creator, Florence Nightingale. She, I remember, was called the "Lady with the Lamp." It is now my privilege to lift this lamp of hope and faith and courage in my profession to heights not known by her in her time. Together with the help of flight surgeons and surgical technicians, I can set the very skies ablaze with life and promise for the sick, injured, and wounded who are my sacred charges. ...This I will do. I will not falter in war or in peace.

Here are a few of the real flight nurses from ww2 from left upper: Second Lieutenant Elsie S. Ott, upper right: first Lieutenant Suella Bernard.

Elsie S. Ott - As the flight nurse on the first intercontinental air evacuation flight, she demonstrated the potential of air evacuation in January 1943. She was an Army nurse who had never flown in an airplane and had no air evacuation training, she successfully oversaw the movement of five seriously ill patients from India to Washington, D.C. This six-day trip would have normally taken three months by ship and ground transportation. For her actions on this historic flight, Ott received the first Air Medal presented to a woman, and she also received formal flight nurse training.

Suella Bernard - On March 22, 1945, two CG-4A gliders landed in a clearing near the bridgehead at Remagen, Germany, to evacuate 25 severely injured American and German casualties. Once the gliders were loaded, C-47 transports successfully snatched them from their landing site and towed them to a military hospital in France. In the second glider, Suella who had volunteered for the mission, cared for the wounded en route. One of the first two nurses to fly into Normandy after the D-Day invasion, Bernard became the only nurse known to have participated in a glider combat mission during World War II. For this mission, she received the Air Medal.

Upper left: first Lieutenant Aleda E.Lutz Upper right: first Lieutenant Mary L. Hawkins

Aleda E. Lutz - One of the most celebrated flight nurses of World War II, she flew 196 missions and evacuated over 3,500 men. In November 1944, during an evacuation flight from the front lines near Lyon, France, her C-47 crashed killing all aboard. Aleda was awarded the Air Medal with four Oak Leaf Clusters, and the Distinguished Flying Cross.

Mary L. Hawkins - On Sept. 24, 1944, she was evacuating 24 patients from the fighting at Palau to Guadalcanal when the C-47 ran low on fuel. The pilot made a forced landing in a small clearing on Bellona Island. During the landing, a propeller tore through the fuselage and severed the trachea of one patient. Hawkins made a suction tube from various items including the inflation tube from a "Mae West." With this, she kept the man's throat clear of blood until aid arrived 19 hours later. All of her patients survived. For her actions, Hawkins received the Distinguished Flying Cross.

I hope you’ve all found this interesting and now have a greater understanding of flight nurses. If you’d like to read a fic on flight nurses please check out my fic ‘On a Wing and a Prayer’ and @major-mads fic ‘A Pair of Silver Wings’ a Masters of the Air collab.

#historical facts #flight nurses #ww2 nurses

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