#Cloud: you're an alien

[holly-fixation]

Damaged Doll: Chapter 3

Summary: Angeal and Zack discover a man in all black trapped under boulders in the mountains near Icicle Village. They notice things are extremely wrong about this man, but one thing demands their attention: mako blue eyes with slit pupils. Sephiroth will want to see this. And meeting him only raises more questions than answers. But what happens when this blonde is face to face with the silver general himself?

Based on this prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Please Enjoy!

Chapter 3: A Link

A short pause filled the room, snake like eyes bearing into each other, one with utter obsession, the other with incurable curiosity. 

Sephiroth’s throat hitched, despite all of his planning, all of his preparation. It was his mother, the woman he was punished for asking about. The connection he never had but desperately needed, no matter how many times he was told he was better, different, and had no need for such pointless connections. He could finally learn about his mother. He took one last breath to clear it before asking, “How do you know my mother’s name?” He hoped this would be the least complicated question, or at least the least complicated answer he’d receive tonight. “How do you know my mother is Jenova?”

“It’s the name you know, therefore the name she took,” He answered simply, like that explained anything, “Your hair and the shape of your eyes are the same as hers.”

He knew he should be smarter than this, much more cautious of the abnormal answer, but a childish longing held his rational mind hostage as he answered mindlessly, “She looked like me?”

He nodded. 

“What was she like…?” His voice was small, and he received an almost caring, empathetic look from the blonde.

“Powerful. Intelligent. A tactician. A savior to so many.” He paused as he hunted for an answer. “…She was caring. Kind. Beautiful.” A wistful expression claimed the patient’s slitted eyes, which, peculiarly, expanded like a cat’s in the dark. “You’re so much like her, My prince.”

The general forced down the bubble of warmth from the comparison calmly, attempting to focus on his goal. “How did you know her?” 

“Your mother created me.” He answered truthfully, but that wasn’t possible. His age seemed about the same as Sephiroth’s. 

“‘Created’?”

Cloud lifted his head in confusion for a moment before nodding. “Yes. She created me from the stone and glass in the north.”

Sephiroth only raised a brow, but Cloud did not continue. 

Instead, he returned to a different topic, a bit of explanation before he planned to continue his answer evident in his voice. “When your mother came to this planet, she-”

“Stop,” He ordered in bewilderment, shaking his head and hands softly in wait, gaining instant silence. He always showed more emotion when it came to his mother. “‘This Planet’?”

The blonde looked down, folding his hands neatly in his lap before raising his eyes hesitantly. “Forgive me, My prince, I must ask...” it was the first time his voice faltered in front of Sephiroth, matching his currently fractured state. “What do you know of your mother…?”

Sephiroth’s heart dropped at the question, his confusion replaced with the ever gaping hole in his chest. The color vanished from his face. “Her name was Jenova. And she died giving birth to me.” He did not meet the gaze of the patient as he finished, refusing to see the reaction to the statement he told no one before, “That’s all I know.” He closed his eyes to center himself, and he heard the patient breathe deeply in thought, analysis, interrogation, determination. 

“Yet you’ve come so far…” Was that surprise, the smallest hint, in the raspy voice? Then it was back to steel, the solid tone he only used to Him. “...Your mother would be proud.” 

Sephiroth’s chest warmed again, and with a nearly sad expression on his face, he didn’t fight it.

“Please, let me explain, My prince.” 

He sighed softly and nodded, his signal to continue. 

The blonde completely understood. “Your mother was not from this planet.” Sephiroth nearly jerked in question, and though he did not ask, the blonde knew exactly what he wanted to know. “The humans would call her an alien, but she is so much more than an extraterrestrial.” His change in tense was noticed, but the general swallowed to soothe his inquiring mind, despite the cautiousness slowly stirring within. “She was a godsend. Multiple planets would call out to her when their beings were in danger due to the lifeforms they could not control. And after aiding them, she ruled them as queen. This planet, the Lifestream itself, cried. And she answered.”

Sephiroth opened and closed his mouth once, like a guppy, too many questions colliding that only one stuttered to escape. “H-How?”

“A meteor. I believe…the crater should still be there.”

“The Northern Crater?”

Cloud nodded. “Yes.”

The silver general shook his head, denying this explanation. This was nonsense, a terrible waste of time. You're insane. Completely insane or delusional. After the state he was found in, the general wasn’t surprised, just disappointed. Perhaps it was brain damage from the boulders. Perhaps it was the unspecified length of solitude. Perhaps he was never well, and that’s how he ended up in that cave in the first place.

“My prince, please wait,” The blonde begged when Sephiroth took a step toward the door, and the general gave him a tired look. “Please, I speak the truth, but it…” He trailed off, then closed his eyes and breathed. “It may not seem possible today. This world has changed so much. But your mother remains the same. Please, what other questions do you have about her?”

Is he using my own mother to justify this asinine story? Is he trying to control me just because our eyes are the same? The slightest counter shone out of the inhuman eyes.

Cloud’s eyes widened in defeat, before he closed the lids and bowed his head, dread settling in his features as the fire dwindled. “I have bothered you. I’ll stop…”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Sephiroth stated suddenly, even surprising himself with the burst of his thoughts before turning to the blonde with a cold expression. One last chance. “Tell me something I don’t know.” That’s even remotely possible, the silent half of his sentence was caught as well.

Cloud took a pained breath, then paused, analyzing his mind and the room for what he could believably explain. “...Do you truly believe your mother is dead…?”

His heart dropped, the hook ripping through his walls and reeling him in completely.

“How many times were you told…?”

“Once.” His eyes winced closed, the memory excruciating as it overwhelmed every cell in his body, dragging him down to the depths of the suppressed and fragile mind. Back to a little boy, stronger than any machine or monster they threw at him, special and different and above all else, though he never believed it. He was barely strong enough, barely as strong as they wanted, finally making his… finally making someone proud of him.

He’d be leaving for Wutai in a week, his life no longer dictated by every word out of Hojo’s cruel mouth. He’d be the first SOLDIER, out of the lab, in the field, in the real world. 

Maybe he’d finally feel rain. 

But Hojo, for the first time in his life, offered him a gift, any gift within reason, the only shred of joy the scientist ever offered. The opportunity. 

“Make your decision while I'm feeling sentimental, boy.”

Though he fidgeted in his spot as he thought, the minute of silence that passed did not change his question. He prepared for the argument, the yelling he couldn’t capture in his throat when Hojo inevitably went back on the deal after hearing what he wanted. Clothes, weapons, equipment, he wanted none of those things, nothing material. He took a breath before forcing his eyes to the scientist. 

“...Okay. I’ve made my choice.”

He felt the gaze burn through the black glasses as the scientist crossed his arms, an annoyed gesture to tell him to continue.

One more breath. One last attempt at steeling himself. “I want to know about my parents.” He felt the white hot burn from the white reflection in the back glasses in his heart. “Both of them. That’s the only thing I want.”

Hojo nearly stood and tensed in response, analyzing him, calculating his mind. The glare and pause nearly stung his skin, but he refused to back down. “You’re better than this. You know you’re better than this.”

“It’s not an attachment-”

“Then what is it, boy?” The scientist spat. “Is it curiosity? Is that the lie you’re about to tell me? That you don’t care about the answer? You ‘just’ want to know?”

Like glass, cracking at the force of the words. “I won’t ask again… Please… Just once...” He nearly whined, his voice as small as a field mouse. “That’s all I want…”

He couldn’t read the expression on the professor’s face. He didn’t know what to prepare for. The silence felt like an eternity. And when the professor moved a hand slowly, he actively forced his eyes to remain on his target. 

“You get one gift,” the scientist seethed while holding up an index finger. “So choose. Which parent do you ‘care’,” the professor nearly gagged at the thought, “about more?”

He froze at the challenge, his anxious movement vanished into ice, a shocked look on his face, his mouth agape and his eyes accusatory. He had to pick between his mother or his father? When he’d never know either? How would he know if he made the right decision? Hojo’s mind was made up. He knew there was no room for argument. Why would Hojo do this to him?

“Which one, Sephiroth?”

Glass. 

“Make a choice.”

Glass.

“Pick already.”

Clear as a window.

“My mother!” He spat out so quickly the scientist flinched and tilted a head ever so slightly in confusion. “My mother. I choose my mother...” His strength failed him and his eyes fell to the ground, guilt pumping through his veins. Why did Hojo make him choose? Why…? He kept his eyes down until Hojo spoke again, his mouth dry as a bone. 

“Her name was Jenova.”

Sephiroth’s blue eyes widened as he repeated the name for the first time. “Jenova...”

“Yes.” The scientist spat. “And she died. Giving birth to you.”

He didn’t see a shred of lie or truth beyond the black glasses. He tried to breathe, he tried to speak, but he was spellbound by the guilt in his heart and the scientist dangling the organ over a floor of swords, always ready to drop. It made sense, why he never saw her, why he didn’t have a single memory of her. It hurt. Gods it hurt, his chest tightening, but he had to keep trying, anything he could get. He swallowed hard, his hand twitching in shock. “What was she like…?”

The scientist scoffed. “No.” 

Why? Why not? 

“No, I gave you your gift. That’s all.”

“But-!”

“Don’t pull this on me,” Hojo growled. “I answered your question, now go.”

He instinctually stepped toward the man. “Please, Hojo!”

“Step back, Sephiroth.”

But he couldn’t stop his mindless pleading and eyes from watering when he moved One. Step. Closer. “Please!”

The last memory forced upon him was the crack against his cheek, that sent him stumbling back despite all his strength. 

When Sephiroth finally returned to reality, finally outside the prison of his memories, he found himself standing at the center of the same room, but with the blonde’s arms wrapped around him and pulled tightly to him. A hug. He glanced at the clock for confirmation. Only a few seconds had passed. Maybe five, or ten? Did he...dissociate? This has never happened before.

“Who did this to you, My prince?” was all he spoke, embers growing to a small flame. He was shorter, the soldier realized, the first time he stood for anyone, his head politely pulled away from the opening of skin in the leather jacket, the palms of his yellow hair softly brushing the soldier’s chin.

Sephiroth was at a loss for words. 

“You do not need to explain anything. Please answer when you’re ready. Who did this to you?” Cloud tightened his grip, his posture a rock, a ground to focus his prince. 

The silver general, the silver soldier, the first SOLDIER, the little boy cowering away from the experiments, the tiny kid crying from each failure, each break, each cut, each bruise, every emotion in his very being screamed over the whisper of logic trying to break through. His arms moved impulsively, like a desperate child, starved for attention and affection, and gripped the shoulders of the injured blonde across the smaller body. 

Cloud did not ask again, but patted the space on the back between the large pauldrons, petting the space of leather soothingly. 

Then he found himself removing one hand and pulling the blonde to his chest, with no resistance. It felt…nice, to have someone so close to him, the vaguest memory of a stuffed chocobo dashing through his mind, the fluff of the fur delicate and comforting. The similar color almost coaxed him into leaning his face into the dandelion of hair, perhaps even breathing in a scent of something other than this solitary lab. So many memories…why now? He searched his thoughts for an answer, the silence only aiding his tracking mind.

…his mother. It tied to her, didn’t it? Whether the blonde was telling the truth he sought all his life, or a story fabricated by a tortured and damaged mind, he didn't know. He did not believe the tale, of course, but he felt a connection. A deep connection. 

“...Hojo did this…” His deep voice boomed softly, and the blonde only nodded in confirmation. The only noise in the room was their tensioned breaths and the occasional beep of the medical machines. Maybe a minute of peace passed through them. 

But then they felt something, and Sephiroth let go and took a step back as they both glared at the observation window. The speaker in the ceiling clicked on.

“Apologies.” That was absolutely a new hire, stuck on the absolute worst shift for specimen monitorization: zero-hundred to zero-seven-hundred hours. “Visiting hours are 9AM to 12AM, and the patient should not be standing. Please help the patient return to the bed, then leave the room. Thank you.” Another click notified the shut off of the microphone and speaker. 

The blonde’s head was bowed again. “Forgive me.”

His silver brows knotted in confusion as his gaze returned to the blonde. “For what?” Only now did he realize the blonde was balanced on one foot, the damaged leg dangling in the air.

“I disobeyed your order to stay in bed.”

Sephiroth shook his head. “Don’t apologize. Here,” He stepped toward the blonde with his hands out, “Let me help.”

Cloud shook his head and held his arms out to stop him. “My prince, I can’t let you- nh-” He was already lifted and back in the bed before he could finish, grabbing his sides to soothe the pain from movement and failing at concealing his low, pained grunt.

“Are your ribs okay?” The soldier asked, scanning the other set of eyes for the truth. 

The blonde nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you, My prince.”

Sephiroth cringed at another use of the faux title. “Please don’t call me that.” He moved to the exit.

Cloud tilted his head, and spoke as the door slid open. “What would you like to be called?”

“My name,” Sephiroth spoke softly, too tired, too confused as to what just happened to continue, why it happened, and left the patient alone in the hospital-like room. 

* * *  

Hojo. Will. Die. For the pain he caused My prince. But he had to be careful. He was strong enough to kill the scientist if he got close, but he wasn’t strong enough to get away with it. It angered him greatly, his hands itching to break holes in the wall. Whatever his prince had to endure as a child still haunted his prince now. But he had to control these impulses. He would not make the same mistake again. His prince deserved the perfection he failed to give his queen. Now he needed to weld the connection they both shared. He already looked back fondly on the moment in the middle of the night, finally treated as what he was. He was a weapon for her use. But he was also a tool for comfort. A toy for a child, a stuffed animal to hold for safety. Cloud almost smiled at the memory as he stared at the walls. But he was still being watched. Again. 

When the scientist, no… when Hojo finally entered, Cloud was informed he should not attempt anything with his leg for at least a month. But the longer he’s weakend, the longer that bastard lives. 

However, the scientist raised a hand and made a gesture toward the room through the one way glass. Almost immediately, the door opened to a young girl with red hair in mostly black clothing, a rougher fabric than what he was given. She adjusted a white bag in her hands, and nodded to the professor upon entry. 

“She’s a part of the Turks,” Hojo explained. “An elite program, a type of special forces here. They investigate, interrogate, exterminate, basically whatever we see fit,” He spoke with power behind the ‘T’, then gestured to the woman. “This is Cissnei. She’ll be teaching you everything you need to know.”

Cloud carefully moved his eyes to the scientist. “What specifically…?”

“Well, what you’ve missed the past two thousand years,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We can’t expect you to assimilate into our society easily, but perhaps you can find someplace with more knowledge. In return for my research, of course.”

His predatory eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second before he returned to calm and collected. “Very well...”

He scribbled something before clipping the pen to the board. “Glad you agree. Now excuse me.” Then he left, without another glance to either of them, though Cloud watched his location, even through the mirrored window. 

The red haired girl approached him while he wasn't looking, and she only met his eyes when she was an inch away from the bed, gently placing the bag in his lap. “These are the clothes you were found in. We highly recommend excluding your pants to let your leg heal.”

Cloud was already opening the back like a child with a gift, pulling out his coat first and analyzing the sown scratches. 

“We had them cleaned and repaired. We hope you’re satisfied.” She took the open seat as he continued to scan, frowning as he ran his thumb along the new patches.

Then he looked up to her and moved the clothes to his side. “Thank you...”

She nodded in response. “They said your throat will take another day or two to fully heal. After that it shouldn’t hurt so much to talk.”

He nodded in appreciation. Then he noticed her gloves. Both black, but only one covered her whole hand. She was a part of some kind of special force, right? The Turks? “What kind of weapon requires those gloves…?”

Cissnei had to look down at them to notice what he was talking about. She didn't think about them anymore. “Oh, these?” she held them up for a better view. “They’re the most effective for using a large shuriken.”

He tilted his head, so she elaborated. 

“A type of throwing star.” She scanned him as well. “Do you know what that is?”

He shook his head. 

“Well,” she almost laughed, “Then let’s start your lessons there.”

Cloud appreciated her aid, kindly smiling as she explained whatever she knew about their world, with him asking questions as she went on. But he hated where this aid came from. He needed to learn about this changed world, yes, and she seemed kind enough. Yet she is tied to her job. Perhaps learning her loyalty to this special program would aid him in his coming cover-up. He needed an opportunity, and he still needed it while he looked innocent. No more mistakes. No more failures. Everything must be perfectly clean. Not a drop of blood will tie back to him.

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Thanks for reading! 

Author's Notes: New baby Sephiroth content will not change this story. I already finished that section before the announcement. Though I am EXTREMELY excited to see the little Babyroth! (Check tags for more notes)

#final fantasy vii #ff7 #ffvii #cloud strife #sephiroth #jenova #final fantasy 7 #thanks for reading!! hope you enjoy!! #professor hojo #cissnei of the turks #i love taking an eternity to figure out how to write a conversation #or just go 'we doin this now' #and need to adapt #Cloud: you're an alien #Sephiroth: do you need medication? #Cloud and sephiroth in this chapter are Interesting to say the least #can you tell I really enjoyed 'a monster's threads'? #I didn't steal! #I absolutely approached it differently #You know how Ink Clouds tortured Sephiroth with memories of the future? #I swear I didn’t think about this until after I wrote the flashback and reaction #I do not think that far ahead lol #Cloud actually acts like a doll a little! #he wants to cause comfort #but he also kills so… #Our poor screwed up chocobo boy!

[shingekinomyfeelings]

People really need to stop equating virginity/lack of sexual experience with someone being 'naive' and 'innocent' and any other bullshit terms indicating immaturity. Getting fucked for the first time will not imbue someone with wisdom or a deeper understanding of humanity or love or the realities of the world. Sorry if you think sex is literally magic, it's not.

Also, this shouldn't be a hot take, but if someone who has never wanted to have sex has never had sex, that's actually a good thing.

Don't you fucking dare imply I'm lacking something.

#fucking think about what you're insinuating when you say shit like that I am begging you #I think it's a fucking GREAT thing that I've never had sex while not wanting to #today on Asexuals Being Treated Like Aliens #this is mostly about being Ace in a hypersexual world but honestly if you've not had sex by choice for LITERALLY ANY REASON you are valid #asexuality #virginity #old lady yells at cloud

[shannonsketches]

They’re not a super popular ship in terms of romance, but they’re 100% a thing and always side by side in fan works more often than Ganondorf with Bowser, so they’re a duo for sure (that and OoT came out around the same time as FFVII I think so more shared history there)

Ah, see I think I've seen more Ganondorf and Bowser associations because of Brawl's plot giving them some shared screen time (and of course both being big Nintendo properties, and growing up with the jokes about Nintendo having one (1) color palette for BBEGs). Not in a ship sense, just their general "I know that guy from work" fan stuff.

But I don't really shop in Final Fantasy or the latest SSB sectors often, so I haven't seen them before!

#then again in FF7 I really only cared about Cid and also Barret kljkdas not that ff isn't great!! I have HUGE respect for that franchise #and what it did for storytelling and exploring and gaming in general. MASSIVE respect for the FF series #VII was just something that my friends were super into and I kind of hung out and liked the grumpy little team dads #you know how when you're a teenager and everyone around you is So Pumped about Thing and you just don't have it in you? that was me lol #My KH friends were foaming at the mouth over Cloud and Seph and Sora and Riku and fam I tried to care I really did I tried so hard #but I couldn't!! It's not for me. The closest I got to caring about seph was loz in advent children he is all tiddy and zero brain 10/10 #I didn't end up playing FF7 until like 2006 and then again in 2017 and I remember it was good! #But while I could tell you all about Cid I really only vaguely remember the main story asdasklj megacorp bioengineering and ? aliens ?? #tldr I wave at FF through the window from across the street laksda I enjoyed 7 and I'll play the remake but it's really not my scene #Same with SSB. I appreciate them both I have fun playing them but it's generally not something I think about when I'm not physically playin #square has some of the most innovative storytelling in the industry don't get me wrong I just rarely crave the flavor they sell ykwim??

[too-much-tma-stuff]

This idea sort of burst out of me like Alien so it's unedited. There will probably be more.

In short, Cas picks up on the fact that Danny is pregnant at a Wayne Gala and have the right idea but the wrong context.

Masterpost

------

Danny was barely holding it together and really he had been for a long time. It had sort of been fun and games at first when he became a hero. Sure his accident had hurt like hell but he'd sort of repressed that and for real? Lunch Lady? Box Ghost? Even Skulker was sort of a joke and he hasn't actually felt threatened. Sneaking around behind his parents backs and sneaking out with his friends had been fun. It had all felt like a game at first, and then somewhere in there things had gotten very real.

He'd known he couldn't count on his family to protect him but they couldn't even see Vlad was a threat. And he felt like he had lost the last of his innocence when he saw the clone Vlad had made of him melt. He hasn't been in time, he had panicked and he had only managed to save a couple by taking them into his own body to shield their still forming cores. Ellie and... should Danny name the other one or would he name himself when he was ready?

He kept touching his stomach over where he could feel the little balls of his mirror children hovering just below his own core. He was so tired all the time as they relied on his energy, he was eating more then ever and he knew his family was worried. He didn't think he could hide this and he couldn't predict when they would emerge. What if they did in front of his parents? They definitely wouldn't react well. And Vlad kept trying to use this against Danny. Promising to look after him and the babies if he was really insisting on carrying them, as if Danny could rip those tiny 'lives' out of himself now.

And no matter how many times he tried to tell his parents that Vlad was bad news, that he creeped Danny out and made him feel unsafe they wouldn't listen! Dad didn't even hear him and mom made sympathetic noises and then told him to bear with it for Jack's sake because he didn't have many friends.

So of course when Vlad had asked if 'Daniel' could accompany him to a gala in Gotham his father had agreed! Even his mother had agreed when Vlad promised it would be educational and safe! And here Danny was, hanging on by a fucking thread in a suit that felt uncomfortably tight around his middle, having just escaped being paraded around as Vlad heir like a particularly expensive watch. He was behind the snack table having piled a plate as high as he could and scarfing it down before Vlad could find him again and scold him for being rude. He hadn't noticed yet that a family of dark haired socialites kept giving him worried looks. A young woman with dark eyes signing frantically to a man with blue eyes and a dimpled frown.

It was the man who slid up carefully next to Danny trying not to startle since he seemed to have genuine food aggression.

"Yeesh kid you seem like you're starving! All those fancy Hors d'oeuvres are fun but not very cooling and I feel like I'd be a poor host if I didn't offer you something more filling! If you'll come me to the kitchen I'm sure our family butler would be happy to whip something up for you?" The man said with an inviting some that did nothing to sooth the way Danny's hackles raised instinctively.

He was about to say no on reflex when he spotted Vlad heading towards them with an expression like a thunder cloud. Danny's back went ridged and the other man followed his gaze with a frown. "You know what ya that sounds great let's go now!" Danny said dropping his half full plate on a nearby tray and dragged the stranger away with him as Vlad shouted after him.

"Daniel come back this instant! Unhand mister Wayne! Daniel this is unacceptable!"

'Mr. Wayne' took over leading them and spirited Danny through a back door as a bubbly blonde intercepted Vlad and a small woman slid in behind them like a shadow.

"So, Danial I assume?" The man asked, amusement crinkling around his eyes as Danny grimaced.

"Mr. Wayne I assume?" Danny returned, unaware of the way one arm was protectively wrapped around his stomach, but the girl noticed. It was Dicks turn to grimace.

"Okay ya, I go by Dick. What about you?"

"Danny," he said not reacting to the name, he'd heard far stranger. "And what about you?" He asked Cas, startling Dick a little because she was doing her 'shadow thing' and not many people would have noticed her.

"That's Cas, she has a hard time talking sometimes," Dick explained as Cas materialized and gave Danny a reassuring smile and wave.

The teen harrumphed but he did follow them down to the kitchen where Alfred was drinking a cup of tea, staying well clear of the foolishness upstairs. "Ah, hello young masters," Alfred he said, glancing between the three with a raised brow. Though the two who knew him could see the way his expression softened when Danny shrunk in on himself. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Alfred do we have any leftovers from dinner or something filling we can whip up fast? Danny here is too hungry for just the fancy font for upstairs." Dick asked cheerfully.

Alfred raised his eyebrows again and looked at Cas who was standing behind Danny. Glancing at Danny to make sure he wasn't looking she grimaced then touched her stomach and mimed holding an infant.

Alfred's expression turned stormy for just a moment then smoothed. "Of course we do, Why don't you make our guest comfortable and I'll see what I can do. Do you have any allergies young man?" Alfred asked and Danny shook his head mutely.

"You're the best Alfie!" Dick said, hovering a hand over Danny's shoulder rather then actually touching him as he leas him towards the comfortable breakfast nook.

The boy seemed tight lipped and gaunt, his eyes flicking around them as if he expected a threat to pop up at any time. Dick slipped into the booth across from him. Trying to think of the best way to ask this kid how... why, and who hurt him.

Cas has stayed in the kitchen, but not for long. She came to them with a tray of mugs moments later and slipped into the booth next to Danny. Gently she took his hands and pressed the warm mug unto them. He blinked and focused of it, as if on autopilot he lifted it to his lips, Cas keeping a hand on his elbow to steady him as he drank.

The warm comforting drink, and hand on his arm, presence by his side as Cas slid imperceptibly closet and closer till she was pressed against Danny's shoulder, felt like they were taking him apart from the inside. Thawing out the cold numbness he shielded himself behind. Half way through his tea he glanced up, at the worried blue eyes so like Jazz, so worried and warm.

He put down the mug suddenly as a sob shook his body. Cas wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, cooing comforting wordless little sounds as she let him bury his face into her chest and just sob heaving, exhausting outbursts of repressed emotion.

"Are the babies okay?" She asked and he froze, his breath catching in his throat. She clicked her tongue and rocked him gently. "Okay, okay, not in trouble," she promised.

"They- I don't know, they were so weak, I’m trying, but I don't know if I can keep them alive." Danny sobbed lifting his hands to cover his face.

"The stress can't be helping," Dick pointed out, climbing across the table like it was nothing to sit next to them and rub Danny's back. Danny gave a little hiccupping hysterical laugh. "Do you have support, or like, do you know your options?" He asked awkwardly.

"I'm not getting rid of my babies! I don't care if the man who made them is an obsessive creep who drugged me! I love them they're MINE!" The feral protectiveness seemed to startle Dick even as Cas continued to make soothing sounds.

"Your choice, only yours," she promised. "Have help?"

Danny sniffled and shook his head. "Safe?" Another shake of the head.

"The man who... did this?" Dick asked as delicately as he could. Another hysterical laugh.

"I've tried! I've tried to tell my parents he's a creep, he's dangerous but they don't listen! My dad thinks he hung the fucking stars, mom says he's harmless. They don't believe me! I-I can't tell them about the babies. They'd make me get rid of them or worse! I can't." Danny sobbed and Cas soothed.

"Okay, okay, you don't have to." She promised. "You stay with us, you and babies safe, never have to see him again."

"Ya right. Wait, your serious? What" Danny asked, pulling back and looking at her with wide bloodshot eyes.

"She's very serious young master," Alfred said as he approached making Danny jump. there was a hard set to the old man's jaw and steal in his eyes that left no room for questions as he set a plate of eggs, sausage, and fruit in front of Danny. "Master Bruce has a foster license and is a mandatory reporter. I'm sure once he hears even a fraction of this he will insist you stay. I will prepare a room for you. Am I to assume the man who's shouting demanding your return upstairs is the source of this distress?"

Danny swallowed and nodded, Alfred nodded back and paused to rest a gloved hand gently on Danny's hair before walking away briskly.

"Eat," Cas said, nudging him gently to let go of her. "As much as you want. Still hungry? We raid Tim's secret cereal stash."

"Gasp! You know where it is? You've been holding out on me?!" Dick demanded with exaggerated betrayal and as the two started to banter Danny ate. He was glad of the distraction, of not having the attention on him as he devoured the healthy, and nutritious meal the butler had made for him. It had been a while since he'd had a good home cooked meal, it made his core feel warm and he could feel the two little echoes as his hummed.

The babies were happy too, he didn't believe these people could keep him safe from Vlad really, but this was nice. Maybe he would let them try, get a few more good meals, a respite, and maybe... maybe his parents would finally notice that something was wrong and actually stand up for him?

That was probably wishful thinking but he could hope right? there was no harm in that.

Part 2

#fanfiction #danny phantom #dc x dp #angst #misunderstanding #the bats think Danny is normal pregnant not incubating cores #Vlad is a creep #stalker Vlad #vlad plasmius #dick grayson #cassandra cain #feedback and comments welcome #for some reason it won't let me add a title #I wouldn't really know what to call it anyway

[priceyprice]

Simon is not a believer.

He doesn't believe in things like the earth is flat, aliens are green with antlers, superstitions, and other things. He doesn't believe in angels, demons, myths like greek mythology or spirits —instead of ghosts, he believes that spirits are a form of energy and not just a white silhouette of a person—, he's not of a much believer of anything. He hardly has emotions, years of shutting down everything he felt since all his trajectory and his dark past, so there's no way he believes in something.

Oh, that's until he saw her.

The moment he saw her, the thought of not believing in angels was vanished like the thin smoke of a cigarette.

She was standing in front of him, introducing herself like the new member of the team with her sweet voice that sounded like honey dripping from her soft lips. Her face was soft and delicate, something he had never seen before. When she extended her hand for a handshake, the soft texture of her almost melted him on the spot. How can she be a sergeant with that delicate face? How can she kill on the battlefield with those soft hands?

She was a true angel.

A few weeks later, when they were on a mission, Simon realized how much he underestimated her.

She could kill like a demon.

She could kill anyone in matter of seconds. There was no remorse or sympathy behind those pretty eyes the second she stepped into battleground.

Now, Simon believes in angels and demons.

Almost a year later, when Simon finally was in a relationship with her, he discovered other beliefs.

His room was filled with soft moans, whimpers, and the sound of the bed creaking. His hands were on her waist as hers were on his broad shoulders. He was sitting on the edge of the bed while she was on top of him riding him like her life depended on it.

Their kisses were messy and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, not caring of anyone who would pass in front of the room, abusing of his power as they know no one will snitch on the lieutenant.

Her hands roamed down to his chest, taking him by surprise when she pushed him down so he was lying completely on his bed. His eyes found hers, confused about why she used all that force on him, thinking maybe she didn't wanna do it anymore.

Before he could process what was happening again, she started to ride him again faster. A low growl formed on her throat.

Simon hissed and closed his eyes for a second. "Fuck... you're too fast."

"I don't care." She answered, almost sounding like a whimper.

His hands flew to her hips, and he opened his eyes, only to found the most perfect view he could ever had.

Her hair was disheveled, his impatient hands taking the blame for all her strands in different directions. Her expression was contorted to one of pure ecstasy and a few rebel strands of hair and droplets of sweat adorning her forehead. Her skin was glowing like the morning sun rising up behind the mountains. Her hips moved like the waves on a night with a full moon. Her soft skin against his was like the clouds adorning the very blue sky.

That's when Simon came to the realization that he believed in something more.

In goddesses.

She looked like a total goddess trying to search for her release, panting and sweating, up and down, using him for reaching that state of pure bliss.

When they finished, they lay down on his bed, hugging each other without saying anything. Skin red and sweaty, covers dirty and wrinkled, room smelling like sex and their scents. They didn't care as long as they were embracing each other and forgetting about the world after his room door.

At that moment, Simon started to believe in something else.

Heaven.

As much as he wanted to avoid the bitter events, he couldn't simply do it. One day, on a mission trying to find a gang leader and a human trafficker, they kidnapped his lover. Leaving no trace behind to have a clue and save her.

The way his heart fell from his chest was worse than any other things he had experienced in life. Those gang members took away his reason to live, his reason to breathe, his reason to love.

Simon discovered another belief that day.

Hell.

And he will bring hell to every person who touched even a single strand of hair from his lover.

He will bring the devil himself just to save her.

[Part 1 here]

[Part 3 here]

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

#ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #cod mw2 #task force 141 #141 x reader #cod 141

[mommypieck]

⌗︙・alien armin ⸜⸜・

alien armin is so needy when it comes to you. the first few months after you found him were rough, he didn't understand anything. but one thing he understood rather quickly was his longing for human touch.

"what's up, armin?" you ask him when he nudges your arm. his black eyes are wide and his lips make a little pout. he jumps on top of you, making you yell out. your body is pinned underneath him as he's pawing at your clothes. there's nothing he loves more than to be inside of you. you sigh, letting him take your clothes off. you found out that it's better to give him what he wants now otherwise he's gonna whine until you give it to him.

he smiles in triumph when he finally gets all of the annoying clothes off you. his cock is already standing hard in his pants but he knows he has to make sure of one more thing. his long fingers dip between your pussy lips, checking if you're already wet. he huffs when you're not wet to his liking before using his fingers to rub at your clit.

when his fingers are sticky enough he finally sinks into your wet heat. you wince at the stretch, he's bigger than the guys you've taken before.

you still don't understand where he got the knowledge of pleasuring a woman. his cock thrusts into you rapidly. he's a lot faster than a human and he makes you scream out loud.

"slow down, baby." you whine and he chuckles at you. that's one of the phases he can understand very well. the pace slows down but you can see on his face that he's not pleased with slow fucking, you have to make him get used to it.

"you can't be so rough with me." you tell him, stroking his hair. when you first found him, you thought he was an angel because of his golden hair. he has no intention of listening to you. armin angles his cock right into your sweet spot, setting a fast pace once again.

your hands fist into the couch you're laying on and you try not to be so loud. armin's expression is clouded with lust, he's on the cloud nine. his cock throbs inside of your pussy and you know that he's close to his release.

"come on, baby. make me cum." you tell him and he pushes deeper inside of you, dragging his cock along your walls. one nudge into your g spot is what makes you lose your mind and you cum around his cock. he lets out a choked sob when your pussy tightens around his cock and he cums deep inside of you.

"you were so rough again." you tell him when he finally pulls out. he looks at you with a smirk on his lips, snuggling closer to you. yeah, he is never gonna change it.

#aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #aot headcanons #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan x you #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert smut #armin arlert x you #armin arlert x y/n

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the compound part one

words: 2k

warnings: alien apocalypse au!, violence, reader gets injured, hunger/starvation, mentions of death

part one / part two

you take a deep breath as your eyes focus on the pile of supplies. you know it's bait. you know it's purposely set up near the border of the compound to entice thieves, that someone elses eyes are likely on it right now.

but you have no choice. your stomach growls. you can see canned food. it's been so long since you had something from before. you've resorted to killing wild animals and gathering as much edible berries and plants as you can find, but even those are hard to come by. everything is hard to come by.

you look at the fence separating you. it's chain link, easy enough to climb. there's barbed wire placed on the top, fashioned together with zip ties, but plenty of space for you to fit between.

your eyes adjust as darkness falls, glad your hiding spot is shielding you from most of the wind. now that winter is rolling through the north carolina woods, you need to come up with a new plan. whether it's moving south or finding others to survive with that you trust enough to not kill you for using their resources or leaving you behind as alien bait.

a cloud passes over the moon, sending the world into even further darkness. you don't allow yourself time to second guess, shooting forward as fast as your legs can carry you, praying that your speed makes up for the sound as you scurry over the fence.

you groan when in your haste you cut your leg on the barbed wire, but you have no time to stop and see if the gash is deep.

you make it to the stack of supplies seemingly without notice, but the second your hands touch the box of canned food, a floodlight illuminates the yard of the compound.

“shit.” you allow yourself to mutter a curse word, picking up the small box and tucking it under your arm as you head towards the fence, knowing the other side means safety. 

“stop!” someone shouts from behind as you begin to climb, moving slower now that you have less mobility of one arm.

you let out a scream when someone grabs your leg, you try to kick them away, but then your other foot is grabbed, being pulled down by compound men. you struggle the best you can, even dropping your precious cans of much needed food in hope it hits one of them, but your hands can only hang on for so long before you succumb to their pulling, falling backwards with a thump, head hitting the ground and darkness enveloping you.

--

your head pounds as you try to blink your eyes open before realizing that they're covered by a blindfold. 

what a shitty way to go out, you think to yourself. blindfolded and gagged by compound men. at the end of the world, you don't meet your end in an aliens bite but rather from other humans.

it makes you question if along with the apocalypse people lost their humanity, or if they're just finally able to show their true colors without the expectations of society.

you slowly become more aware of your body. your hands are restricted behind your back to some kind of chair. your fingers reach out to touch the rope and then the chair, sighing when it's cold and smooth. wood you could possibly break, but you have no chance with metal.

your feet aren't restricted. you try to feel around for anything, but the floor around you seems clear.

you consider tipping your chair over, but you have a feeling that would only result in more pain for you.

“you awake?” the question is asked. it's a male voice, of course. it's widely known the compound is almost completely male. only a few rare women have ever been seen behind the fence. you're not sure what their recruitment process is, but you've heard whispers that they bring impressive people in. people that try to steal from them and get caught or defend their stash when the compound men leave on their raids.

you thrash in your seat since you're not able to respond. no use delaying the inevitable. if they're going to kill you, you don't want to wait around for it to happen.

“good.” the voice says, and then all of a sudden the blindfold is tugged off your eyes. it takes you a second to adjust before you can properly look around the room, realizing you're up on a stage, auditorium seats in front of you with a few men in them, all heavily armed.

you realize quickly that the military base the compound men took over must have had some sort of stage for speeches, and that you're now center spotlight.

“she did pretty good.” one of the men in the auditorium hums from the seats as the one who took of your blindfold exits down the stairs to join them. “got to the fence. most people don't even get that far.”

you try to tune out their words, eyes sweeping from some sort of escape, or help. you've learned not to rely on human help after the aliens came, but you might not have any choice.

“yeah, but she got caught.” one man huffs out.

“shit, billy, shut up. we need more women around here.” a new man says, his eyes feeling predatory as he looks over your body, making you press your thighs tightly together. you manage to look to the side to realize there's an armed man on either side of the stage, tucked slightly into the wings, but their dark eyes on you.

“we shouldn't even be arguing.” the man who untied your blindfold says. “wait for him.”

him. the infamous leader of the compound. you've never seen him or even heard his name, but he has a reputation from the bit of gossip you've managed to pick up. cruel. not bloodthirsty or barbaric like some of the men under him, but unflinching in his standards. refusing to give out any sort of help or aid even if a mother is on her knees begging at the fence.

you've heard from some that he doesn't care, you've heard from others that it's because his men come first.

you also know every time the compound men leave on a raid, they're looking for more than just food. someone. someone that the leader lost. presumed dead, just like most of the people after the aliens came, but that doesn't stop him from looking.

your heart breaks for him despite his cruelty. you wonder if it's a son. a daughter. a sister, mother or wife.

you refuse to let your mind turn to the ones you lost. you weren't close with your parents when it happened, but your friends… your boyfriend. you shake your head, willing the thoughts to leave. no use getting emotional right at the end.

you hear footsteps, the men scattered around the first few rows moving to situate themselves, sitting a little straighter, making sure their makeshift uniforms are done properly.

the doors at the back of the auditorium open. you wait for the figure to step out of the darkness, the emerge from the shadow from the mezzanine above.

“untie her. now.” the voice rings out, so familiar it hurts as the men from the wings move quickly to undo your gag. you feel the sudden coolness of a blade against your wrist, but it slashes away at the rope.

the man is moving quicker now, your eyes widening when you realize who he is.

“rafe!” you scream, shooting up from the chair. tears are already streaming down your cheeks as you run, sprint as fast as you can across the stage, rafe also breaking into a run as you take the stairs so fast you're worried you'll fall.

“y/n!” rafe yells out as you reach each other. you're lifted into the air behind him, sobs racking your body as you press your face into his neck, legs wrapping around his hips.

“you're alive!” you can hear the disbelief in rafes voice. 

“i-i thought you were dead rafe.” you whimper into his neck, pressing kisses to his skin between the words. “i came to tanneyhill after they arrived and it was-” you can't finish your sentence. partly because the pain of having to describe what happened to tanneyhill, the home you spent so much time at. but mostly you don't finish because rafe sets you down, moving your head out from his neck to press his lips against yours.

you sigh with relief before kissing back, hands fisting in his uniform, just now realizing how bulky his clothing is, various weapons hanging from them.

“i-i love you so much.” you tell rafe, pressing your fingers against his cheeks, the plains of them still as smooth as you remember. you look into his eyes. it's the same rafe, your rafe, but at the same time he's different. clearly hardened by the apocalypse, aged quicker from the stress.

“i love you.” rafe kisses you again. “i never stopped looking for you.”

you. you're the one. not a son or a sister, but the person the compound men were looking for.

“i-i didn't know you were here.” you wish you saw rafe out on a raid, but just like everyone else in the north carolina woods, you scatter when the compound men leave their base, almost as much of a threat as the aliens are.

“otherwise you wouldn't have stole from me, huh?” rafe smirks, making you giggle. he clearly hasn't lost his sense of humor.

he pulls you close to his chest as he looks to his men. “dismissed. i will be in my chambers. no disturbances unless it's an emergency.”

the men instantly scatter. rafe waits until they all leave before turning to look at you, hands skirting down your body to your wrists. he sighs deeply when he sees the marks from the rope, red and bleeding in some places.

“let me get you cleaned up.” rafe says, and you just nod. it feels surreal to finally be back with him, your boyfriend who you could have sworn was dead. you didn't stay long in the outer banks, not with the limited resources of an island, but you looked every day for rafe to see if he somehow survived the aliens before you fled into the woods.

you feel like your eyes are still glazed over as rafe leads you out of the auditorium, promising you a full tour of the compound later as he moves swiftly down the halls, two men walking in front of him and two men behind him.

you should have known rafe would get himself into some sort of leadership position even after the apocalypse. he might not be the most well versed in combat or shooting, but he can lead and throw commands around like he was born for it.

“this is my- our chambers.” rafe pushes the door open, the four men remaining outside as rafe leads you in. it's surprisingly comfortable inside, suddenly feeling like you're in a home rather than a military base.

“i-i think i may have died when i fell off the fence. there's no way this is real.” you genuinely have to run your hands along your arms, pinching yourself to make sure you aren't dreaming.

“it's real, baby.” rafe sighs with relief as he strips off the weapons, placing them at the table near the door before stripping off his fatigues until he's just in a plain white tshirt and shorts, looking just like the boy you knew before the end came.

as he steps closer, arms wrapping around you and allowing you to relax into his hold, reality comes rushing to you. you try to keep your cries quiet, but in no time sobs are racking your body, rafe lowering you both to the ground as you cry, loud sobs, even interlaced with screams from all the horrors you saw surviving without him. you let it all go, finally safe enough to.

rafe doesn't say anything, just holds you until your cries lessen and you pass out, exhaustion pulling you to sleep.

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @https-luvvia @aerangi @folklorsweet

#I KNOW NO ONE LIKES APOCALYPSE AUS #BUT GUYS I LOVE WRITING THEM THATS NOT MY FAULT #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x oc #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x oc #rafe cameron x reader #rafe blurb #rafe one shot #rafe drabble #rafe imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron drabble

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny covered his nose with his hand. Where ever he landed smelled absolutely foul, like rotten fruit and burning tires mixed with chem lab.

"Remind me to bring a face mask the next time I explore the Infinite Realms." He muttered, before kicking a soda can down the alley he was in and being repulsed by the squelch sound it made when it came into contact with a very questionable looking puddle, "Better yet, a gas mask." He glanced at the puddle again, "Or I could go full Hazmat." Clockwork had told him this world was full of superheros and villians and to steer clear of it, but once he learned there were aliens in this world he couldn't help himself. Danny had always been weak to his curiosity, but he liked to believe he was cautious, and chose to stay in his Phantom for for added protection.

Turning on his heel he exited onto a deserted street lined on one side by a chain-link fence. The sky above him was filled with clouds so ominous and dark that Danny honestly couldn't tell you if it was night or day, all he knew was that it was going to rain soon and hopefully these awful smells would be drowned out by the downpour.

Danny got his wish only minutes later. Thankfully Phantom was unbothered by the cold and could just bask in the rain as it fell apon him. A lesser known fact about ghosts is that thier clothes are made from thier ectoplasm and are part of thier bodies, much like a second layer of skin, so one would be able to feel things on thier clothes as easily as they would with thier bare skin. The level of sensitivity varies with the type of clothing however. All this to say Danny loved the feeling of the rivulets of rainwater traveling down his ghostly hazmat suit.

He was so preoccupied with enjoying the sensation that he didn't notice anything was wrong until he was jolted forward from the weight of someone landing on his back. The person was quick and precise, taking no time at all to have his wrists pinned behind his back and- weirdly enough- thier teeth digging into the material around his neck.

His parents designed the Hazmat suit Danny was wearing not only to deal with dangerous chemicals, but to fight supernatural foes. The area around the neck was reinforced with the intention of protecting against fatal gunshots and decapitations so naturally someone's jaw wasn't going to be enough to break through to his neck.

Danny let out a laugh as the person kept chewing on his neck like a confused puppy. Oh, Danny thought, they've gone feral. It was odd for someone to go feral but it could occur when a person has gone through something traumatic recently or through extreme stress. It made sense since the person ridding piggy back on him was dressed like a superhero. Danny wondered if that was why the person didn't have a scent. Danny learns facepalmed when he remembered that scentblockers existed and not everyone's scent dramatically changed whenever they went out as a hero. The scent change was probably one of the few things that have kept him alive up to this point to be honest.

"So, I guess you're not going to tell me why you're chewing on my neck like the worlds most pathetic vampire, are you?" No one deserves that title more than the fruitloop to be honest. He made a mental note to use that one against Vlad the next time he saw him.

Chewy whined at this, seeming to slump a bit from the apparent failure to bite him. What was that about? Was this actually a vampire? How would a vampire even react to Dannys ecto-blood combo meal anyway? Would it be like food poisoning? Or would it taste amazing from one undead to another. "I'm not exactly human, are you sure you wanna bite me? I might not taste so good." Danny warned, but the moment he mentioned letting the person bite him they were eager again.

Danny chuckled and unzipped the material only a bit before it was loose enough to move out of the way. The vampires bite came with a sharp pain like he expected but there was no suction. No drinking of blood. Just some weirdo biting Danny on the neck. Huh.

Danny hoped he didn't get rabies from this.

He must have accidentally said that out loud as there was a small laugh from the rooftops above them. There stood another person in a superhero outfit with some really tall dude dressed as a giant bat, and that was when Danny decided to bail. It was one thing to let a maybe vampire bite you in a random street in the middle of the night but more of them? And ones a big scary furry? Hard pass.

Phantom did as Phantoms do and went invisible and intangible, escaping from Biteys jaws and startling the heros. He ignored the distressed whine Munchy let out after loosing their spookyest chew toy and quickly rubbed the scent gland near dannys jaw on the top of thier head as an act of comfort before bolting.

----

Danny poked at the bite mark on his neck. Screw rabies, he better not get turned into a werewolf. He didn't need that on top of his ghostly crap. Sam seemed fascinated by the mark, after all, it wasn't every day that Danny got a scar, especially one so obvious. Most injuries heal quickly and leave no trace of him ever being injured in the first place which helped a lot in keeping his secret identity.

Luckily Danny hadn't needed to lie to mom and dad. He truthfully told them about some wierdo jumping off of a nearby rooftop and plunging thier teeth into his neck and that two other people had tried to corner him during this. He assured his mom that he had gotten away quickly but was a little shaken by it and his dad praised him for being brave and managing to escape.

That was nice. But he still had to figure out what was up with this bite...and why he felt so compelled to go back to that city.

Back to that hero.

-----

Aka an A/B/O au where in Danny's universe all the Alphas are extinct and the betas followed soon after and the DC universe all the Omegas went extinct and betas followed after . Not like a "they finally went extinct in the 1700s after centuries of thier numbers dwindling" thing and became a myth/fairytale (tho I like that too) but a "this might be the missing link between cave men and modern humans" kinda thing.

Its up to you which bat bit Danny and exactly what that means. I love abo aus without smut cause there's so much potential for chaos and I am very much ace.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #abo #everyone is confused and no one has answers #i would however like some slowburn romance #whichever bat you choose is going to get teased forever for running up to some random meta and biting the crap outta them #i tricked yall into reading an abo prompt didnt i? #i slept little over an hour last night so i woke up choosing violence #its been a very bad day #the store didnt have a lot of the stuff i needed to buy and on the walk home i saw an older kitten that looked kinda like my cat get hit #the car didnt even stop. poor thing got hit by the next car too and i just stared and it started raining like a freaking movie moment #tw: animal death #tw for the tags #so i got new trauma today #gonna make that everyone elses problem #a/b/o dynamics #kinda #just wanted to add the tag incase yall have it filtered

[whereireid]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐇 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

series masterlist | avatar masterlist

pairing: tonowari x omatikaya!fem reader

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

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

There is no longer a fire which blazes within you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm going to —"

"Do it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, it is.”

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

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

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

And you'd followed him.

That's how you've ended up here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where are we going?”

"I will show you. Come on."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is this yours?"

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

"When did you hear that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you over her?”

“Over who?”

“Ronal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#tonowari #tonowari imagine #tonowari x you #tonowari smut #tonowari x reader #tonowari x y/n #avatar: the way of water #avatar #atwow headcanons #atwow Tonowari #Jake sully x reader #avatar smut #avatar fic #avatar film #Tonowari fanficfiln #Tonowari fluff #Jake sully imagine #avatar 2 #avatar 2009 #womnsfw #avatar fanfic #atwow fanfiction #Tonowari fanfiction #WORLDOFMUNSON

[pablitogavii]

I'm sure

"I told you it's not a good time to talk about this!" Pablo was groaning while you paced around his room angrily feeling both frustrated and tired from him.

"It's never a good time for you! When you want to be between my legs it's a perfectly good time but when I want to talk seriously about us, you're tired..or you had a hard training session..or freaking aliens invaded the platen Earth!" you said relying on sarcasm as you defense mechanism.

Truth being told, what you and Pablo had was nothing short of perfect...he was your childhood friend...your parents are really close...he protected you from all the boys in high school and now he became your man...or did he?

You were starting to feel very self conscious that many girls flirt with him thinking he is single, and even though eh never responds to it, it angers you that you're not official. You never really had a talk about it.

"Amor please! I literally can't feel my legs right now!" he said and that only angered you more. You wanted answers NOW and weren't backing up until you got them!

"Don't "amor" me Pablo! I couldn't feel my legs last night when you were in the mood for more but I still wanted to make you happy!" you blurred out not even realizing what you said until you saw his smirking face. Not the right time Gavira!

"I'm just that good, amor" he winked and you rolled your eyes really not in the mood for this right now. He needs to take you seriously!

"FUCK YOU GAVI! I'm done! You hear...DONE!" you grabbed your hoodie from the chair about to walk out of his room but he was already by the door blocking your exit path.

"I'm sorry amorcito..please..stay..I didn't mean to upset you this much..and don't call me Gavi..please?" his puppy dog eyes were working and you hated that fact. He raised up your head and you sighed shrugging your shoulders and walking back to sit in the chair.

"Please..come here???" he said opening up the comforter for you and you sighed moving towards the bed and slipping in still keeping your distance from his warm inviting body. Ughh how badly you wanted to cuddle him right now!!!

"If you're not sure about me...just say it...and maybe I can find someone who is" you spoke feeling your own heart break at the thought of being with anyone besides Pablo. He was your first and only boyfriend...one who took your first time...one who owns both you body and heart. Deep down you didn't want to lose that...

"W..what did you say to me!?" his dominant personality got triggered by that statement as his mind got clouded with images of another man having you...having what's only ever been his.

"I said..I can find someone else???" you smirked knowing that will get to his last nerve and it did as he was already on top of you growling and pulling your legs around his torso.

"I thought your legs were hurting???" you teased but he was in no mood gripping your things and making you whimper. FUck! You LOVED when he got like that!!!

"You can't do that!" he was yelling despite the fact we were in his house and his parents were right down stairs. Boy didn't care about anything anymore those words really sobering him up good right now!!!

"Why not???" you played dumb and he knew you were waiting for his words slowly raising up your hips to rub against him. FUck you were always such a fucking tease!!!

"I was the first one...hm...to get inside that tight little pussy...and stretch it up really nice for me...it belong to me princesa...you..you belong to me" he was doing his best not to groan when you teased him repeatedly trying to stay quiet enough not to be heard downstairs.

"And yet nobody knows that...do you know how many guys walk up to me thinking I'm single..wanting to take me back to their home...hm and bury themselves deep inside of your pussy?" you whispered into his ear licking it afterwards and he had to let out a groan after that.

"Amor! Behave!" he said sternly and you giggled rolling your eyes adn shaking your head no' playfully. He was mistaken if he thought you were gonna let him go so easily.

"Or what? I'm a single girl...I might let them?" you smirk and this time he lost it gripping your neck and moving down close to your face.

"You're mine! Only MINE!!!" he growled before kissing your lips feverishly biting your lower lip aggressively that you whimpered in pain mixed with pleasure. YOu were slowly melting into his hands...fuck!

"Are you sure about that???" you said and he shook his head realizing that no matter what, you always get what you want...you really got him wrapped around your little finger.

"I'm sure! My girlfriend!" he yelled before kissing your lips and slowly moving down your neck and chest marking up your skin while you smiled satisfied for hearing those words leave his mouth ;)))

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barcelona #fc barca #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x reader #pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavira #gavira #pablogavixreadersmut #pablogavira

[trexiejan]

Some Toxic Dickbabs moments that happened in canon. (LONG POST)

so i saw a dickbabs shipper talking crap about dickkory saying they're the most toxic nightwing ship? and they also claim dickbabs is the most healthiest ? it's ironic considering I've seen many dickbabs comic panels where dickbabs is being toxic towards each other plenty of times in the canon comics. Looks like Tom Taylor wants to brainwash people and make them believe that Dickbabs is such a perfect healthy loving couple since day 1, when that hasn't been true at all before he was put in charge of the nightwing comics to write dickbabs wattpad fanfiction in the book every single issue, this ship has done nothing but damage both characters even in tom taylor's run Dick is turned into a happy go lucky himbo who is incapable of accomplishing anything on his own without being monitored and babysat by barbara 24/7.

Anyways let's proceed with dickbabs history of being a toxic couple.

Remember those times where Barbara physically and verbally assaulted him when he was only trying to be nice and polite. She yelled at him, called him stupid, a crybaby and beat him up.

Also they keep calling Kory a victim blamer for something that happened once in over 30 years ago but ignore the fact that Babs has victim blamed him and slutshamed him multiple times in the modern comics when he was sexually assaulted and raped by Tarantula and when he got shot in the head by the Joker.

Dick just got raped by Tarantula and was traumatized by what happened but instead of comforting Dick, she has the nerve to mockingly say Dick likes his rapist. her jealousy always clouds her judgement.

I'm sorry But Barbara is canonically a victim blamer and a slutshamer. Don't forget how she also insults and slutshames other women like Helena when she gets jealous of the other women in Dick's life. She called dickhelena a cheap one nightstand even though Dick clearly told Helena he doesn't do casual sex and and she mocked Kory and refused to help her on a mission when her people were dying.

so yeah let's get back to her history with victim blaming Dick. She victim blamed him again after he got shot in the head and had an amnesia and when his memories was restored, she lashed out at him for forgetting about her when he had an amnesia.

And remember that time when Bludhaven was burned down and Dick lost his apartment, he came to Barbara to ask if he can stay at her place but she kicked him out of her apartment the next day. She's totally fine with him being homeless but dickbabs shippers claim babs has always been very loving and supportive towards him while calling Kory a slut.

Even in elseworld stuff she treats him like garbage. Aside from cheating on Dick with Batman and getting pregnant with Batman's baby in the BTAS universe, she's also very emotionally abusive to him in comics where dickbabs shippers brag about them having a kid in it like in whiteknight.

Barbara was always out there acting like a toxic judgemental domineering bitch in the modern canon comics, Barbara behaved like this consistently for more than 30 years but Kory is the one we should crucify over something that she did only once from 30 years ago 🙄 Did they crucify Barbara too when she was ableist to Cass and called her stupid because she can't read.

And they call Kory a sexual assaulter? Because she kissed him when they first met. Did they forgot that Kory was an alien, she was clueless about Earth laws when she first came to earth, she didn't know that you're actually not supposed to kiss someone without their consent, she had no clue that it was considered inappropriate and she kissed him not to sexually assault him but for her to learn english. Her people can learn other languages through kissing and Kory didn't learn anything about Human law until she officially joined the teen titans, so you can actually excuse her for her behavior what's not excusable is Barbara who was a human being who studied law for years, but still has the nerve to commit a sexual crime. As always, She violated Dick's personal privacy, she put camera on his apartment so she can enjoy watching him naked without his consent. Look it up on google the crime is called voyeurism. Barbara would considered a creepy criminal by human law. I'm not surprised considering I always think of her as a type of gf who has no respect for her partner's personal space especially when she's Oracle, She never respected Dick's privacy even in tom taylor's run, she keeps monitoring his every move in her computer, she always invades his personal space. Dick is trapped in this relationship. It's not a good relationship if you constantly watch your partner's every move and if you keep following your partner around like a dog wherever he goes.

Many people think Dickbabs is such a healthy because of Tom Taylor's run. I think for someone who is a huge dickbabs shipper like tom taylor it's expected he's gonna try to convince people to believe that to to sell his favorite ship but in reality even in Tom Taylor's run Dickbabs relationship is pretty toxic and forced. It's toxic when your partner doesn't respect your privacy, when your partner constantly stalks and keeps an eye on you on every single thing that you do, when you wanna talk to other people but she's there lurking in her computer listening to your conversations with other people, when she puts a camera on your mask so she can always see what you see and hear what you hear, as if you're not a real human being who needs your own privacy, and constantly follows you around like a dog, like Barbara does to him every single issue. It really is a sign of an abusive relationship when there is no respect. How is Tom Taylor's Nightwing good when the book keeps destroying Dick's independece by having Barbara stuck to him like a leech 24/7 . The book is called Nightwing but Tom Taylor turned it into a Nightwing and Batgirl fanfiction series where 90% of the time Dick hasn't done anything on his own and where his IQ is chopped off in half to prop up Barbara as the smarter woman in their relationship. Dick can't even handle his own missions without constantly being babysat by Barbara in her computer like a sidekick who needs to be watched 24/7.

Poor Dick he became Nightwing to stop being Batman's sidekick and be independent only for Barbara to take away his independence and treat him like a sidekick again. Dickbabs has always been a toxic ship in any kind of form.

and don't forget Tom Taylor himself is a toxic misogynist slutshamer. He keeps throwing shade on Kory on twitter by liking comments that slutshame her on twitter

You know what would be the best way to fix dickbabs? is by letting them move on from each other! Let them grow tf up and move forward in life outside this relationship.

Babs is an anchor that brings him down whenever she's too involved in his life and same with Babs because do dickbabs shippers even care about Barbara. I haven't seen any barbara fan complain about barbara not doing anything on her own other than chasing dick around like a dog in his comicbook every single issue.

#dickbabs #anti dickbabs #antidickbabs #anti tom taylor #dickbabs shippers are the most hypocritical fandom i've ever seen

[victoirey]

— smart phones & shimmyflies . . .

SYNOPSIS !

you find yourself, a 21st century citizen— in Pandora. what will you do ?

gn!human!genz!reader / " im sorry , do you guys have any chips ? "

taglist / @loaqi @mylovelo-ak @somerandomweeb2 @stomach-bugg09 @cheari @lo-aksgf

hi guys!! this is a prologue for a project I've been planning for a long time! I'm so glad to say that I am putting it in action! woopwoop! I have commitment issues though. I don't know why I'm doing this. the official tag for this series will be 'primitive person in pandora' , and smartphones and shimmyflies will be the official title <3

you slapped on a bandaid to soothe your papercut as you flipped through another page of questions— to be greeted by more questions. there you were, sat in your room— music fading in and out as you did your homework. every question was harder than the last , which was reasonable — as the subject was science , for God's sake. how the hell do you wrap your head around science? or atleast, what you're learning in science right now. what the fuck is an optical phenomenon?! what the fuck is a sonorus?! why the fuck am i learning this, you think, when I could be running free? I could be hanging out with my friends , making silly tiktoks and actually living!

your head drops onto the wooden table, as you groan. "why can't we learn about aliens?" you ask yourself, "aliens are actually interesting. and some may even be hot." you say, "most aliens are hot." honestly, you don't even know what you're saying. you just want an excuse to not do this homework. whether it be by sleeping, watching a movie, hell- maybe even writing fanfiction and posting it on some deadbeat app would be better than this! anything would be better, you concluded.

you raise your head, fast— too fast, that you can't calculate when to stop. you forget the affect that raising your head quickly has on you— and you begin to get a bit woozy.

then your head hits the wall.

blobs of black follow after.

you don't know what to do, you don't know what to say— God, you've been needing a break for so long. as more blobs cloud your vision and as more of your thoughts overlap eachother— your eyes start to get heavier. damn, you didn't know simply hitting your head on a wall could do that shit. atleast you don't have to do your science homework. wait, will you still have to do it even though you blacked out? you should ask Ms. M about that..

out of all the thoughts, however, one seems to be a constant.

i hope im out long enough to be absent for the rest of the week.

the lab was always a constant for norm. it served as a way to get lost in himself, in his work— and right now, he really needed it. they were in the process of building a lab some where near awa'atlu, somewhere near the sullys. it was almost done, but the natives thoughts on it weren't. every time norm stepped out of that lab, unwelcoming glares from the metkayinan people. still, he went on. he tried to better his relationship with them, to learn their ways, to adapt— just as jake and his family did. it was still a work in progress, but it was going good. he was doing good.

being so dedicated to adapting and learning these past few days, he cherished these moments of calm. he was back in his human hold— reading over metkayinan books. his five fingers turned the page of the book, gently; his five fingers— calloused, tired, and yet still... they were relaxed. all of him was relaxed. he felt like he was floating, like he was in a sensorial deprivation chamber — from back on earth. he felt just that. he felt like all of his senses were sucked away temporarily, with all he could feel being the slow pace of his thoughts as they skimmed through a book.

he cherished these moments. he cherished this moment.

you, however, did not. you think you're about to wake up in your pretty little bed but NO. God has other plans for you because apparently hell is too merciful and you feel like you're about to puke. suddenly, you're in a fucking... rainbow or something. maybe it's the bifrost. it's probably the bifrost. when did thor exist? you didn't know and didn't care. you're seven seconds away from absolutely deteriorating and you feel shittier knowing you didn't even get a chance to shower one last time before drowning! then again, you showered yesterday but you wanted to feel that sprinkling water on your skin before you fucking died! what the fuck, universe?! you thought— the universe didn't answer.

you feel like you got thrown off the roof and these are your last moments before you eventually splat on the floor and die. like literally, bones broken and all. your whole life fucking flashes before your eyes, pictures of you and your friends, of your family— the tears you shed because of them, because of school, because of everything.

you think,

perhaps this is mercy.

still, The Great Mother has other plans.

you splat face first into norm's desk.

he jolts away from you instinctively, the book in his hands discarded as he looks at the fellow human that just came out of nowhere. did the wind carry you here? he didn't want a part in this. you, on the other hand, don't know how the fuck you aren't dead — all you know is that you have a raging headache. you push yourself up, weakly, and criss-cross your legs on norms desk— hand on your head as you let out a big sigh. "fuuuuck..." you say, and your voice is so weak, quiet, & pained. it tugs at norm's heart strings.

then again, he's always had a soft spot for kids like you. even if they ruined his desk.

he coughs to get your attention. your eyes look up at him, and he awkwardly waves "hi?" he says, not sure how to react, "why are you on my desk?"

the headache is long forgotten now, as you jump off his desk and try to grab at anything to use as a weapon. he raises both his hands up— trying to show you he means no harm, and you near hiss, survival instincts kick in. "you are absolutely INSANE. CRAZY. APESHIT. BALLISTIC. if you think I am trusting anyone that lives in a mad science LAB !" you yell, gesturing to your surroundings. this was the most mad scientist core place of your life. "where the fuck am i?!" you ask, tears near. you don't know where you are. you don't know the people here. you don't know what these devices are. you just want to go home already.

norm pities you.

"hey, hey— listen, 'm not gonna hurt you. 'm not gonna hurt you." he reassured, as gently as possible— you back away from him, but that only encourages him to take one step closer to you. his arms remain in the air, "I mean no harm. my name is Norm Spellman. I'm a scientist here at Pandora, and I'm also an operator. I got no experience with weapons. none at all." he tried to joke in his intro, tried to reassure you once more— and you hate to admitit, but it worked. now , you were just confused. you stepped towards him, tears dripping down your cheeks— voice shaky, and yet you stepped towards him— some part of you felt gravitated towards him, for it seemed like the universe had deemed him safe. safe for you. "my name is y/n." you replied, he smiled. "nice to meet you, y/n."

you nodded, eyes still blurry with tears. norm didn't say anything, he just patted your back & beckoned you to sit down. for a while, you stayed like that.

you stayed like that, until finally, you licked your chapped lips and — getting through multiple voice cracks & loads of tears, asked,

"what year is it?"

it wasn't a question you'd ask usually, but faced with guns that could aim themselves— with phones so advanced that your phone couldn't compete, god forbid you don't ask. norm looks at you, your obsolete clothes, your worn out phone that did not look like a phone at all— and your reactions to the environment that surrounded you. he knew that you were not from here, and in the most literal way possible. you were not from this time period. norm pursed his lips, "twenty one seven-ty..." he replied, dragging the y. your eyes bulged, and you slowly looked toward the floor to calculate how far into time you've gone.

it was 2170 here. you were in 2023.

2023 minus 2170.

one hundred fourty seven.

your face contorts into an expression so shocked, so horrifically terrified— that norm can tell from eight hundred miles that you're scared.

you look at him again, and say, to his utter horror—

"do you have a gun on you?"

#norm spellman #avatar norm spellman #avatar norm #norm spellman x reader #avatar 2 x reader #avatar 2009 x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 x reader #avatar 2022 #neteyam x reader #ao'nung x reader #metkayina #rotxo x reader #lo'ak x reader #tsireya x reader #kiri x reader #jake sully x reader #☆ . PRIMITIVE PERSON IN PANDORA ?! #neteyam #james camerons avatar #avatar neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam awow #awow neteyam #atwow neteyam #neteyam x y/n #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan

[abalidoth]

Replanting (Chapter 1)

[read on ao3]

When you feel the missile clip the corner of your mech's leg joint, you know it's over.

It feels like a line of white fire directly to your brain; your pain and the mech's mingling. But pain is nothing, pain is your every day. It's the immobility that terrifies you. Your mech knows before you do that the leg won't work, can't carry you back to base.

They won't send a field repair team out this far, not into enemy territory. Not even for the material outlay of the mech. You have no illusions of what would happen to you if they had to extract, but at least it would be fine, given a new pilot and allowed to keep doing its duty.

Don't think like that, it sends to you. I don't want another pilot.

You struggle a few dozen meters until the residual coolant in the leg motivators gives out and the intractable hand of physics pulls your mech to its knees. A cloud of dust billows up around you and you give up the rest of the way, mech lying on its side amid the baked earth and the scrubby bushes.

Creosote bush, the mech says. Didn't know it grew this far north.

You know it's just trying to keep you from panicking. It's not working -- you can feel your heart racing, the connection gel around you contracting in an autonomic effort to keep you from thrashing in the cockpit. Worst of all, your handler's ever present voice in your ear has gone silent.

A pilot's job is to keep its mech moving. No more and no less. You know there's no real affection from your handler, that her ministrations are part of the system, but you can't think about that sudden abandonment without a pang of grief. She should be there, she should always be there, but now there's nothing. Silence and static.

That feeling gives you a rush of adrenaline, coarser and hotter than the artificial flush the mech gives when you complete an objective, purely a product of your own withered adrenal glands. You have to get back you have to get back. You struggle to your knees, planting the mech's hands in the caliche like anchors and shoving so hard you feel something pop. (In you? In the mech? Is there a difference?)

You make it another hundred meters before you fall again, and the Caskie mech finds you, hitting you with an EMP before you can take them down with you. It lands with a jumpjet hiss in your sightline, so you're treated to the view of the alien-looking mech opening its canopy wide, two pilots getting out of the crude-looking mechanical cockpit.

---

They salvage the mech with you in it.

The pilots didn't seem to know what to do with you; you could hear from your outboard sensors that they were discussing in that strange, fluid accent how to get you out without killing you.

(You don't understand why that matters.)

Eventually, they just called for reinforcements; three heavy carriers showed up some indeterminate amount of time later. They haul your mech, pilot included, through the air on a frankly ridiculous web of heavy cables. You see the desert fade to green, canals threading through the land like veins, as you pass from the disputed zone into Union territory.

Your mech keeps a constant stream of commentary, talking about the plants that it sees, pointing out where old semi-arid forests have been restored. Its voice across the neural tunnel holds false cheer, picking up whenever you start panicking, but the enthusiasm is genuine.

Finally the carriers land at a base. It looks much like Conclave military architecture, concrete in utilitarian blocks, but you can see shining glass and chrome off in the distance, a city. They must want to keep you a ways away from civilians. You suppose that's fair.

They land you in an empty mech bay. It’s been cleared out hastily – you can see the Union mech that used to reside there off to the side, plugged into an aux power array. Your mech is not the right size, not the right shape, but a gaggle of mechanics come out anyway. They locked a restraining clamp on you at some point so you can't move, can't fight. Still, the mechanics move around you warily, like you'll snap and take them all out at any moment.

You would, in a heartbeat. Not just to get the euphoric response, but to quiet the anxiety, the feeling that you're entering a world where you don't have the tools to survive. But you can't, and a quiet part of you (or the mech) is relieved at that.

They strip your mech of all its weaponry, a harsh and hasty disassembly. You feel each removal sharply. Not physically -- mercifully, the mech has dialed down the haptic connection so it's left to suffer alone -- but in loss of potential, the closing of options. 

Finally, when everything is done and your mech is defenseless (other than being a fifteen ton vehicle) a tall woman in a labcoat comes out, flanked by guards with red cross emblems on their sleeves.

"Hello," she says. Her voice is formal, neutral. Lower than you expected, with just a hint of that singsong Cascadian accent. "Can you hear me? Or see me? We have sensitive solid-conductance microphones on the outside of your mech so we can hear you if you speak."

You know the trainings. A pilot is part of the system, part of the Conclave war engine, and cogs don't speak. Your tongue flicks idly against the suicide capsule in your back left molar. You go to press in on it.

You feel something, like a hand, guiding you away. A great wave of fear washes over you, and you know it's not yours.

Please. No.

You stop. Think a moment. 

"Hhhhh."

It's been a while since you've spoken. Just whispers in the dark with your handler, words carrying neither voice nor meaning. Your throat is dry, and you feel for a moment like it's not there. (Why would a mech have a throat?) You clear it, and try again.

"Yes. I can hear you."

She nods. "Good. I'm Dr. Mia Crane. I'm required by Cascadian Union treaty to inform you that as a prisoner of war, you have rights including food, shelter, protection from torture, and the right to ask about your other rights." She adjusts her round framed glasses. "I'm required by basic hospitality to ask you your name."

You pause. You know what names are, of course. Your handler's name is Rebecca. But that's not something pilots have. "I, uh. No?"

She blinks, a little taken aback. "Okay, well, we can work on that. Do you at least acknowledge your rights as a prisoner of war?"

This isn't going to end until you acknowledge, you feel, so you just say "Yes."

"Okay. Is there anything we need to know before we get you out of there?"

"I don't want out," you say. Your throat tightens.

You can't stay in me forever. It's okay. You'll find a way back to me.

You hear a hissing sound, and the low, sick gurgle of the connection gel draining out of your suit. Before you understand what's happening, the canopy drops open and you stagger out of the mech onto the diamond-patterned steel catwalk.

The sharp edge of disconnection, the sudden hole where there should be something inside you, keeps you off your feet. You stagger to one knee, felled as surely by shock as you had been by the missile.

The guards rush over to you and help you up. You want to fight them off but your muscles are jelly. Your head hurts.

Dr. Crane looks you over. You know she's not your handler, but you reach for the familiarity anyway, half expecting the usual routine, the ministrations that get lost in the foggy haze of post-battle euphoria. If your arms weren't being held for your own stability, you'd start opening your suit.

Instead she shines a light in your eyes and asks you to stick out your tongue, making notes on a clipboard as she goes. She puts a strip of fabric around your arm and it gets tight for a moment. "Elevated heart rate and systolic pressure, pupil dilation is beyond what I consider normal."

Your heart hammers in your ears. The smells around you -- the saccharine sweet of connection gel, your own body, something undefinable coming off the doctor, heighten to a nauseating strength. Your head hurts. "Are you going to..." You swallow. "Do you have the syringe?"

Dr. Crane tilts her head. "The syringe?"

"When the..." How do you explain this? You haven't had to explain any of this, people just know what to do. "When I'm done. Rebecca, she has the syringe, it's blue, and."

"Do you know what's in it?" she asks, gently. Too gently. The words are too soft, they smother you, it's too hard to breathe.

Your head hurts. The lights beat down.

"No, but it... she... always..."

Your head hurts.

Your head hu--

---

There are voices.

At first you don't care. You just want to go back to sleep. But there's something wrong with your bed, it's too soft. And the voices don't sound right -- that soft lilt, one you've only recently heard.

"Patient has been stable for six hours. Their heartrate is still a little funny, and I'm not sure this godawful cocktail of tramadol, modafinil, and tricyclics we pulled out of their tox panel is good for anything other than keeping them from dying of withdrawal, but we should be seeing them awake soon."

"Thanks, Dr. Chen." You recognize this voice, soft and husky -- it's Dr. Crane. "Have you figured out the... um. Mortality problem?"

"Part of it is that stimulant cocktail, I'm sure -- we haven't had the chance to pull in a full Conclave mech with pilot intact, and our field teams don't have the tools to stabilize someone as quickly as we were able to do here. But the most likely reason... false molar full of tetrodotoxin. We made sure to extract it. Carefully."

You probe the back of your mouth with a sluggish tongue. There's still a tooth there, but it feels strange. The one that had been there was artificial already, of course, but this one is much smoother, more like the rest of your teeth. Something lightens within you -- you've lost an option, sure, but maybe you were never good with options.

"Fuck," Dr. Crane says quietly. 

"That's not all," Dr. Chen says. "There's extensive neural grafts consistent with the autopsies we've performed, but... there's something weird going on with the brain activity scan. I'm not sure what the Conclave is doing to their people, but it's scary."

"Nnn. 'M not," you say.

There's a rustling around your bed. You open your eyes and blink against the sharp light a few times, and eventually the face of Dr. Crane comes into focus.

"Hey," she says. "Glad you're awake. How are you feeling?"

You have no idea how to deal with this. Never expected to be in a hospital room of all things, being treated like valuable materiel instead of ammunition. So instead of answering her question, you just repeat your previous statement. "I'm not. Person."

She gives you a look you don't really know how to read. You never had to get all that good at reading faces, but you suspect this one might be hard even if you did.

"...well. Anyway." Dr. Crane clears her throat. "You had a medical emergency when you left your mech. You mentioned something about a syringe? I assume that's part of your post-operation routine? We've got you stable now. We're going to give you about another day to rest up before we bring you in for questioning."

"Questioning?"

"You're the only Conclave pilot we've brought in alive," she says, with a twist of her mouth. "It's damn near impossible to piece together any information about Conclave technology and hierarchy. I should know -- I'm the Union's top academic expert in Conclave culture and I always feel like I'm flying blind."

That was... a lot. You just nod.

"So you said something about... not having a name? Do you have something you'd like to be called? I know you're technically a prisoner, but you're safe here. People will respect what you say you are."

She says that last part with a lot of emphasis, a particular gravity to the words, but you're not sure why. "No."

"Okay. Designation number?"

"They re-assign our numbers every week so we don't get attached to them," you say.

She says a word under her breath that you don't know, other than that your handler says it when she gets mad.

"Alright." Dr. Crane takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose. "How about I just call you "Pilot" for now?"

That's what you are, and you don't see why that's so difficult, but at least this line of questioning seems to be over when you answer yes. She promises to check on you in a while, and leaves.

---

You dream about vines.

They're all over you. You haven't seen many vines up close -- there was sparse ivy on the back of one hangar for a little while before Maintenance took care of it. But you feel you know these.

They aren't strangling you. It almost feels like a caress, like the flight suit, like Rebecca's post combat care, but not quite any of those. It's pleasant. Cool rather than warm, and calming.

There is intense pain in your arms and legs, but it doesn't bother you. It's like someone is telling you that your limbs are being shredded, but the pain isn't getting through to the part of you that cares. It's just another sensation, less pleasant than the vines but certainly not bad.

You feel things you can't explain. A name, a pull in a direction that's not physical, feelings and sounds beyond your ability to parse. They build to a crescendo, and you wake with a shout. But at the edges of your awareness, the green is still there.

---

The next morning, you're herded into a shower stall with a clean jumpsuit, a washcloth, and a bar of soap. You clean yourself off as well as you can, given the circumstances. The soap has a soft smell to it, and no grit. It almost doesn't feel like it's cleaning you at all, without the scratches.

You knock on the stall door once you're finished dressing, and the door slides back. In addition to the two guards, Dr. Crane is there. She's wearing the same white coat, but her hair is pulled back, and she looks even more tired.

Still, she manages a slight smile. "Pilot. Did you sleep well?"

"No," you say.

"Ah. Well, hopefully we can help with that tonight. In the meantime I have some questions for you."

You follow her through a maze of white corridors, lit with skylights. Your sense of direction was never the best (your mech always took care of that, you think with a twist in your gut.) You wouldn't be able to find your way back if you needed to.

She leads you to a room with two chairs, both of them plush and soft. You feel like you're sinking into it; she looks like she's perched on hers. She balances her clipboard on her knees and starts in eagerly on the questions.

There's a part of you that feels you should shut up, refuse to answer, let them finish the work they didn't let your false tooth start. But one handler's as good as another. You're a weapon, and weapons know no loyalty. So you answer -- even when the questions don't make sense, or aren't about obvious things, or are about things you've never been allowed to see.

The reactions don't really make sense to you either. You talk about some of your worst missions, and she seems sad but like she knew what was coming; you talk about your handler, and she's gripping her clipboard so hard her fingers go pale. You stop trying to understand what's going on, and try to hit the same state of unconscious action that you do on a sortie. Question, response. Question, response.

There are a few about your accommodations. They're fine, of course. You have little standard for comparison, and if she asks if you need anything else, you feel she won't leave you alone with a "no," so you ask for books. Rebecca was always reading when you were doing synch tests.

After what feels like the whole day, Dr. Crane lets you go. She doesn't ask you any questions about the haze of green starting to fade in around the corners of your vision when your mind drifts, so you don't volunteer any information.

---

The next day's meal comes with a couple of books, and Dr. Crane seems determined to find you the right reading material because every meal tray thereafter has more. There's a shelf in your room for the purpose. It was a ruse at first, but it is genuinely a better way of spending your time then staring at the wall.

There's more questions, along with a handful of medical tests, supervised by Dr. Chen. Dr. Chen's questions are even stranger than Dr. Crane's, but at least they seem satisfied with the answers given by the scans and blood draws.

A few days pass until you get a good enough feeling of the layout of the facility to know which direction the hangar is in. You occasionally see Caskie pilots in groups of twos and threes, talking and joking with each other. No handlers, no augments that you can see -- if you hadn't seen people in those same outfits walk out of their primitive looking mechs in the desert, you wouldn't believe that they were pilots at all.

All of them are coming and going in the same direction, and it's a direction that Doctor Crane and your guards never take you. So naturally, the first chance you get when both of your escorts are distracted and you have the chance, you peel off that direction and start running.

Your augments sing as you stretch your legs. They’re not like infantry augments (or so you’ve heard) and they don’t have auxiliary power – you can feel them burning away your body’s energy, energy that would normally be supplied by your mech. But your desperation fuels them just as much as your calories do, and the initial burst of speed and agility is all you need.

The facility is confusing as always, but you spot a sign that says HANGAR and get reoriented. Startled cries fly in your wake, doctors and workers and pilots confused at your frenzied speed. Something that might be an alarm and might just be lighting flashes at the corner of your vision, nearly obscured by the green.

You get lucky, and a mechanic is coming through the secured door at the checkpoint at the same time you arrive. You take advantage of her confusion and duck underneath her outstretched arm, through the door and out into the hangar bay.

It's not hard to find your mech. You remember the layout from your brief spell of consciousness after arrival, the way your mech looked so different from the rest and didn't quite fit into its space.

You pull up to a stop, wheezing from exertion, and look at it with dismay.

Your mech has been dismembered, all four limbs strewn about the bay hooked up to various pieces of testing equipment. The body itself is on a riser jack, slightly askew like there wasn't the right connector to fit it, hooked up by thick cables and patched-together connectors to the exposed limb contacts. The canopy stands open, the inside unlit but visibly cleaned of leftover connection gel.

The sight makes you sick. You hold it down, but barely; but the nausea makes it hard for you to resist when a burly mechanic comes up behind you and wrestles you to the floor.

You're not sure you would have, anyway.

By the time Dr. Crane has shown up, your face is wet with tears and snot, and your breath comes only with sobs. You're still being pinned to the ground by a mechanic, but she's not putting her full weight into it. She more or less let go when you started crying.

Dr. Crane pushes through the crowd of onlooking mechanics and kneels down in front of you. "Are you all right?" she asks.

At first, you think she's addressing the mechanic; it would be such an incongruous question to a pilot about to be terminated for insubordination. After a silence disproves that theory, you shake your head and gesture with one semi-restrained arm to the mech. "No."

"I'm sorry, pilot," she says, "but you are still a prisoner. I'm going to request the board not to restrict your access for this, given that you didn't really hurt anything -- and I'm sure they'll listen to me -- but you surely didn't think you could just get back in your mech and run away?"

"No," you say again, frustration at your own inadequate words prompting a fresh fall of tears. "It's... you're hurting it, you're..."

Things click together, things that you've always known. Feelings shared through the neural tunnel, deeply held beliefs that couldn't be kept from a pilot. You understand, now, what your mech was trying to tell you all along.

"You're hurting her."

Dr. Crane looks from you, to your mech, back to you. She goes pale.

"Are you telling me," she says quietly, "that there's an AI in your mech? A sentient AI?"

You nod. It's too late to lie, now. To protect her. The green in your vision threatens to overwhelm you. You're sorry, so, so sorry...

"A sentient AI that... we have been effectively torturing for four days. Fuck." She takes her glasses off, buries her face in her hands for a moment. "I can't believe that didn't come up during questioning."

It could have. You had avoided the topic, because you were afraid of this happening -- your greater part, torn away and experimented on because you couldn't keep her safe. You had always heard that the Union had strange beliefs about machine minds.

Dr. Crane looks around to some of the mechanics. "Anyone who was working on this mech -- did you have any idea there was a sentient AI? Any anomalous readings?"

"Some anomalies came up in the report that indicated synaptic activity in the post-0.4 Turing level," says one mechanic, nervously playing with their hair. "But everything about Conclave tech is anomalous. Kinda got buried in all the other weirdness."

"Okay." Dr. Crane sighs. "Can we get some input/output hooked up to her, please? And give her her limbs back."

One of the guards flanking her frowns. "I don't think that's a good--"

"She's a prisoner of war, Ortega. Pretty sure removing a sapient being's body parts is against something in the codes. Not to mention the First Principle."

Ortega sighs, and waves some mechanics over.

---

They don't know what connection gel is, but it doesn't matter. The sensation of her against your skin is important, but not as important as just reestablishing the connection.

Dr. Crane apparently spots your longing glances towards your mech, and takes you by the arm. When you flinch back, she holds her hands up in a defensive posture. "I'm sorry," she said. "I was just going to guide you over there again."

There's a lot of activity going on in the hangar, between the mechanics re-arming your mech and the other pilots getting suited up to react in case she tries to start killing people. (You don't think she's going to, but you suppose you can't blame them too much.) It would be a shame if your reunion with your mech got postponed because you got beaned in the head by an inattentive mechanic carrying a crysteel strut, so you offer your arm to Dr. Crane again and she guides you through.

You don't want to take too long, but you're only going to get to do this once. You run your hand over the lip where the canopy seats into the body, feel the soft seal and the framework beneath, then lift yourself up over and inside the cockpit.

There's no gel, so you can't hear her voice right away, but you know what to do. Years of drilling guide your hand to the hidden compartment with the emergency connection pads. It falls open with a clunk, the ribbon cables and connection pads jutting out in a fall like vines. One on either temple, one on either side of the chest, one on the back of each trembling hand. You're probably being watched, stared at as you have been since you broke into this hangar, but you don't care. She's here.

Hello, love.

You shudder, come apart, not in a procedural way like with your handler but in a form that shoots through to the very core of you. Untouched, but undone. You have no words for her, but you know she can feel your relief and your joy. You crumple, weeping, and run your hands over the familiar inside of the cockpit.

The green in your vision doesn’t go away, but it recontextualizes. It’s her. It’s the part of her that lives in you, a fragment within a fragment.

It's a little while, just basking in the connection, before you realize you've fallen in an uncomfortable position. Your skin, your joints, protesting their treatment. You reorganize yourself, pull yourself from the connection just long enough to get there. 

They've hooked a set of speakers up to her ports. They come to life with a spiky flare of static as she finds her voice.

"Hello," she says. You can feel her voice from inside and outside, through the tunnel and through the skin of the mech. "I am a Conclave of God Armored Forces Samson-B Light Interdiction Unit, but I would prefer if you called me Acacia."

#mechposting #empty spaces #might be a bit too cheerful to be empty spaces proper but it's part of the conversation #tessa writes stuff #tesserants #There's going to be probably one chapter after this

[aq2003]

(@variousqueerthings he's so melodramatic and sad. it's soooooo </33)

[transcript:

"i said. i was fine. fine about you leaving. aand.. i'm not. so many of you have come and gone, i never get used to it, think i would've done by now but-but-but. No... just when i think it's all going well, we'll be together forever, you're wandering off to go save another universe or get married—how do you lot fall in love so quickly?"

"well, funny you should say that—"

"i just don't get it. but ehhh, short lives, i suppose. still, so long as you're happy, and you're with the right man, and—he is the right man? Eeehhh—yEs he is yes he is 'course he is, of COUrSe he is, and i mean, i mean, well, no man is gonna be good enough for my donna but YES yes [inhales] off you go! every time, one of you leaves. i'm not ready! i never am, you lot. uuUUhgh. [deep breath]. every one of you, a heartbreaker—"

"that's why you've got two of them, stupid. listen—"

"yeah, i suppose, but it doesn't... make it any easier, you all leave... even the robot dog left me. twice!"

"alright, doctor, i am trying to—"

"and another thing! the universe just never gives me a break! a chance to lick my wounds, a spa day, maybe? but aw, no, Giant Cloud Of Alien Death. well, fine. i'll sort that out. [inhales] one more thing. so many more things. never NEVER never ends."

/end transcript]

#point number 1. good fucking god their abandonment issues. they say 'i know when i'm in the way' a bit later and it's ruining my life #point number 2. ten and donna r THE queerplatonic partners ever in the whole world. 'no man is gonna be good enough for my donna' #like. oh my god. can i die. can somebody kill me. MY god. #point number 3. he is so aroace for this. #tenth doctor #donna noble #doctor who #dr who #doctordonna #aspec doc tag #in case it doesnt show up in the post this is from doctor who death and the queen (the big finish audio) btw! #fyi i haven't listened to the full thing but i saw this clip from @ninemelodies (on twt) and i have the file so im just posting it here #10 era

[jymwahuwu]

Summary: You have been kidnapped and sold as a pet. Blade wants a pet. Content Warning: kidnapping, non-con, dehumanization, body modification (just nipples ><), lactation, humiliation, yandere

dark content, minors DNI

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For details, please visit the official website and social media news. The precious opportunity to meet with pets is right in front of you!

＊(According to the newly revised "Interstellar Pet Act", the company can make a little body modification without compromising the life rights and health of pets.)

-

Last week a man who lived down the street was taken and disappeared. People are talking about it. It was the employees of the Space Pet Home Company who caught him. Those disrespectful aliens roam the galaxies, capturing random species to sell. This is contemptible. Still, there's nothing anyone can do about it. Under the gaze of a powerful space civilization, the planet you live in is trampled like ants.

On the way home, you browsed the news with your mobile phone, and found that some people searched for the man's photo and selling price on the official website, and posted it on the discussion forum. They offer to raise funds to buy him back to the planet. This is already the most likely way to redeem them to their original planet. You clicked on a link to the pet company's website. Ironically, that's a cute design with clouds and a rainbow, and a little animation that brings the pet home. The website loaded for a while, and a picture of the man was displayed. He looked at the camera with a calm expression on his face. You have no idea what they did to him.

Name: ▄▆▄▂▅▅▄▃

Price: 200000

Below is a description of the pet. You read a few words and feel so sick and horrified. There is also "More Recommendations", which introduces pets of different species, from cats, tentacles, humans to supernatural creatures.

You close the page and want to donate some money. However, you feel a cold, prickly sensation in the back of your neck.

Half a second later, as if stepping on air in the sky, you plummet.

-

Blade was more irritable than ever. This time, the target of the mission made a provocation, leaving some traces, deliberately mocking them. He then "solved" them, a little rougher than usual. The problem is, for the next three days, he was just as "rough". He even declined Silver Wolf's invitation to play a racing game together. Silver Wolf remained expressionless, indicating that she didn't care, but the atmosphere became a little depressed.

"Bladie, did you know? Elio said you're getting a pet this month."

"I don't need a pet." No doubt, that's stupid.

Kafka's eyes narrow, and smiles. She said in a certain, seductive tone. "Are you sure? Imagine getting that little kiss after a mission…kneeling down to relieve you…"

"No," he snapped, getting up and walking into the darkness.

-

"Currently scanning for physical condition-"

"Number E92730012 is in good condition. Everything is fine."

"Suggestion: Transform the nipples into a breast-feeding state, and add drugs to enhance sensitivity."

You are in a coma, two robotic arms grab your hand and stretch out, and two needles are aimed at your nipples on both sides to inject medicine. Some subtle changes are transforming your boobs.

"Hmm…" Your head shook slightly, but your eyelids were so heavy that you couldn't open them, and you could only bear the sensitivity and a little pain on your chest. The machine continued to inject the medicine without mercy, and gradually, some white milk flowed out from the flower buds, dripping on the ground, exuding a sweet smell.

-

Not this… and not this.

None of them fit.

If the other Stellaron Hunters saw Blade now, they'd think he was nostalgic about something and wouldn't bother. No one knew he was looking at the official website of Space Pet House. He has searched with keywords, but the results are still not what he wants.

He decided to go to the store in person.

-

It's been three days, maybe… five days?

You can't believe that you've been captured and sold as a pet. The store was decorated like some kind of spider web, some kind of hideous lair. Placed across from you are about thirty transparent cages of various species, including six humans. Some people try to resist like you, slapping the cage and cursing at the clerk, only to get some accusing looks from them, like they are really looking at a naughty pet. Some had given up and stayed quietly in the cage, looking at the guests curiously.

Your neck is covered with a black lace choker and a heart bell. Clean water, food and toys are placed in the cage. You can't believe it and don't want to play with those toys for cats.

When those guests visit, they always whisper which pet is better and more suitable. Among all the customers, you are impressed by a certain man. His dark blue fringe draped over his forehead, and his waist was covered with long hair. His hair dangles along with certain bandages as he walks around the store. He's… charming, in every sense of the word, but creepy, with those red eyes that wander from cage to cage and finally stare at the cage you're in. This situation lasts for tens of minutes, scanning your information and prices.

You don't know if he wants to buy you, because when the clerk asks if he needs to go further and allow him to play with you for a while, he just walks away.

-

"It's been seven days… still no one wants to buy this pet. Why…"

"Maybe we can help."

-

"No…don't! Please! Please, I'll be good!"

You plead as you struggle. The clerk still pulls down your sheer clothes, exposing your breasts and locking your hands above your head. The tears in your eyes are swirling, whimpering, thick milk flowing down the swollen breasts.

The door bell rang and two guests came in. They looked around the store. When they caught a glimpse of you, their eyes visibly lit up and they walked in your direction.

"Today's special offer, milk production anytime...?" One of the guests read out the information under your cage in a low voice - that's the first time you know what's written there. The way they look at your naked breasts seems to be on fire in you. "sounds good."

"Didn't know you were interested in that." Another guest snickered.

"Such a beautiful little thing can change my mind. I hope this time the pet will not be destroyed so quickly…"

You shudder at the implications of his words - this is a lunatic who isn't taking care of pets. what should you do? What if you were bought by this person? You may be facing a more dire situation than you are now…

There is a raging and dangerous atmosphere wandering in the store. You see that familiar face from behind the two customers. He stood behind them, but didn't seem to see them at all. He feels his crotch tighten when he notices your breasts dripping with milk.

-

He licks away any sweet milk that pervades your swollen buds, sweet, rich, and creamy. His hand is rubbing your other breast and pinching your nipple. It doesn't take much force, the milk is already squirting. Your bewildered moan turns into a scream as your lower body bounces, the fluid squirting against his cock.

In the orgasm, you stick out your tongue, address him unconsciously, and touch his palm. It's cold.

"Blade." He said his name.

“…?”

You touch his chest, where the heart is beating and echoing. A warm feeling sinks in.

#blade x female redaer #blade x reader #yandere honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr blade x reader #blade x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #yandere blade x reader

[bruciemilf]

AU WHERE CLARK IS A GRUMP!!! JUST A RAINY CLOUD OF A MAN!!! I want older, exhausted, i- may- feed -on- sun- but- I -ain't- no sunshine- Clark Kent.

I think being constantly alienated and casted out and honestly, despised for being an alien yet saving the human race every Wendsay is bound to make the best of us a little hostile, -

do NOT get me wrong Clark loves his Ma and Pa, but he's mostly here because Diana keeps bullying him into it, and bc his parents happen to be apart of said species that thins his patience everyday.

LIKE-

This man is giving " Absolutely would yell at Parry White for trapping him in interviews with Lex Luthor even if he KNOWS Clark hates his guts" vibes. Living for it.

" TELL THAT FUCKING MORON THAT UNLESS HE PLANS TO SAVE 300 POLAR BEARS FROM MASS HOMELESSNESS, HE CAN SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT CLIMATE CHANGE!"

Bruce, literally shaking in his chair at the Daily Planet after Alfred grounded him with social interaction for patrolling late: hn

Clark is staring. Bruce can SWEAR there's a spot of red glowing in those ocean eyes before this titan of a man directs his attention to a tight-grinning Lois Lane, " What the fuck is HE doing here?"

" You were supposed to interview him today, remember?"

" It's honestly fine I can leave if he's busy"

" I'm not busy, Morticia Addams, I just don't wanna be around ANOTHER rich prick for hours- fuck it. Come on. I NEED to know how you knew Lex was swapping spit with those crooks from that laboratory. "

'' well some of us don't need to yell to get our point across"

" What?"

" Nothing"

Bruce of course follows Clark close and despite Clark expressing crystal clear " eat the rich and shit them out" energy, they still have a " excuse me, he asked for EXTRA blueberry" moment

ALSO GRUMPY TEAM DAD!! " Alright, which one of you failed condoms arranged this press conference? Was it you, Hal? I WILL make you hold that lantern while I fix the coffee maker again."

Arguing with Batman would be so much funnier. " You're a superpowered alien with unmatchable strength and anger management issues, of COURSE I have the right to worry!"

" Oh you fucking say that as if humanity hasn't been its own monster since, oh I don't know, - FOREVER? Maybe check your facts before you come at me, Bruce."

And Bruce is of course SHOCKED. " How-"

" I used my X-ray vision."

" You betrayed my trust!"

" Of course I did, we're not FOUR."

#he would cannibalize homelander so fast #superbat #clark kent #superman #batman #battinson #bruce wayne #justice league #dc #dc comics #angry supes daddy is angy #text #text post