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atlabeth · 9 months

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bad luck - nikolai lantsov

summary: you have little hope after being captured by slavers in the depths of ravka. but then your ship is commandeered, and you get a little more than you bargained for with your privateer savior.

a/n: sorry that it has been a while since ive posted anything on here and sorry about my neglect for my other series but i am a nikolai lover first a writer second and a person third!!! apparently i cannot write a normal length one shot with this man but i hope you enjoy

wc: 5.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, sturmhond!nikolai, reader is captured by slavers but there is no detail, mentions of fighting and killing, mentions of arranged marriages, reader is highkey annoyed by sturmhond lmao, but a fluffy (and lowkey steamy) ending

At first, you’d thought you were hallucinating.

You couldn’t remember the last time your captors had given you, given anyone in the brig, water, and the beginning of a spiral into insanity wouldn’t have exactly surprised you.

Explosions, gunshots, the screams of dying men. You’d imagined the entire crew dropping dead many times so it wasn’t a shock that this was where your madness would begin. You just closed your eyes, tried to pretend you weren’t in chains, and reveled in the sound.

And then the door to the brig was broken down, and your eyes shot open. You moved to the front of your cell, gripping the cold bars as you looked to see what sort of new danger had been brought upon you.

Instead, you were met with a cocky-looking man—though he hardly appeared old enough to be called a man—a pistol in his relaxed grip and another hanging by his side. His bright teal frock coat didn’t belong in a dingy place such as this.

“Hello, all,” he said pleasantly. “I am happy to say this ship has been commandeered.”

Your grip slackened. “What?”

Your question was drowned out by immediate rioting by all the other prisoners, and the man glanced at the woman by his side. She took one of her two axes from its place at her hip and walked over to your cell. Her golden eyes gleamed, and her axe moved in a barely visible flash. She’d chopped the lock clean off, and the cell door creaked open. The whole brig had fallen silent.

You took another step back, eyes still wide. The man walked up next to her, peering inside your cell at all the prisoners bunched in together, but when his eyes met yours, they widened. His entire body went rigid for a moment, so imperceptible that you thought you’d imagined it when he looked away.

“I have no desire to keep you all here against your will,” he said. “Call me your liberator, call me your savior, call me a captain who just hates slavers—it doesn’t matter to me right now. The only thing that matters to me right now is that this is my ship.”

“Are we free?” you asked.

Again, the captain’s expression changed ever so slightly when he looked at you—this time, you knew you hadn’t imagined it.

“Yes,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up in a slight smile. “You’re free.”

You couldn’t help but smile yourself, and the chains around your wrists felt lighter knowing they would be off soon.

The captain cleared his throat as he turned away, looking at the rest of the prisoners. “Now, do any of you know where they keep the keys on this ship? If we can’t find them, Tamar here will use those handy axes on your shackles.”

Someone spoke up and the captain sent one of his men off to retrieve them, then he looked at the golden-eyed woman. Shu, no doubt. “Tamar, get the rest of these cells open then bring them above deck. I’d like to make a speech.”

She nodded and got to work. Soon enough, you were breathing in salty air and reveling in the wind on your face. You’d been below deck for far too long, and the feeling of sunlight on your skin was glorious. You allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and just enjoy it. Your mind blocked out the spilled blood and dead bodies of the crew that you had to walk through. You wouldn’t shed any tears for them, but you weren’t accustomed to the brutality that your parents sheltered you from.

“I’d like to introduce myself to you all.” You opened your eyes and the captain was speaking, standing in front of the orderly line you’d all formed. The Shu woman from before—Tamar, he called her—stood at his left, and a similarly golden-eyed man had just joined them. Between his size and her axes, you were quite thankful they were—at least for now—on your side.

“You can call me Sturmhond,” he said. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me, perhaps you haven’t. I don’t particularly care. As you likely saw, each and every man and woman previously aboard this ship is dead, in case you doubted my promises to your freedom. That is what I care about.”

The thought would have normally made bile rise in your throat. You may not have been accustomed, but you liked to believe you weren’t wholly naive.

“But I want to be clear,” the captain said, “this is not a rescue. This is an opportunity.”

Sturmhond gestured with his head and a woman stepped forward, lithe with wispy hair divided into two braids. She moved her hands apart and concentrated, and with a few concise movements, the cuffs around your wrists broke apart and fell to the ground. Your eyes widened, and the exacerbated clatter made you glance down the line, same as some of the others—she removed everyone’s shackles at once.

Sturmhond kept company with Grisha. You knew the captain was Ravkan from his accent, but any connection to the Grand Palace and the King sent unease trickling down your spine. The chances were small, what with how much time Grisha spent in the Little Palace—Saints, the Fabrikator might not even be Ravkan—but there was still a chance. The last thing you needed was to be recognized.

“We didn’t really need the keys,” Sturmhond said with a boyish smile. Again, you were struck by how out of place he looked—he should have been in university, not heading operations like this. “I just wanted to make you all squirm a little. Tamar’s axes are quite terrifying.”

“Who says we want any part of your opportunities?” asked a man from down the line.

“Because I’m allowing you the choice,” the captain said. “Those of you who wish to be free of the sea and her constraints, we are by the Zemeni border. You will be dropped at the nearest harbor, and your fate will be back in your control.”

There were grumblings throughout your fellow prisoners and you glanced at them. It was a better offer than any of you would have gotten, a chance for freedom that you thought was long past you. Novyi Zem had no grief with Ravka, so you would be safe enough there. You could get a job working the fields or in a factory, and once you had enough you could book passage back to Ravka. You could find your family again.

Your throat tightened. You ran from them—that was why you were here in the first place. Maybe it would be better to try and start a new life all together, nameless in Novyi Zem. No one would ask questions, you were sure of it. You would be in control of your fate again.

And then the captain got a glint in his eye. Your spine straightened almost on instinct.

“As for those of you who want revenge,” he tilted his head, “you can earn a place in my crew.”

“Why would we work for you?” a woman from across the brig shouted. “We’ve got our freedom!”

“Because there is little more satisfying than causing the destruction of those who tried to destroy you,” Sturmhond said. “And because the sea is rather lovely when you’re not a captive.”

“That is my opportunity to you all.” He clasped his hands together, the wind ruffling his red hair. “A chance to help those like you, and put slavers at the bottom of the ocean where they belong.”

“Why would we want to work with pirates?” you spoke up. “We have lives to get back to. And half of us aren’t fighters.”

You didn’t know what it was about you that made Sturmhond’s expression shift just so each time he looked at you, but it was beginning to irk you.

“Privateer, actually,” he corrected. His voice was annoyingly smooth, and his unyielding confidence even more irritating. “As I said, it’s your choice. And it will take us three days to reach Novyi Zem, so you will have time to decide.”

You huffed a laugh, but decided to stay silent. You’d dealt with too many men like him, but it wasn’t a bother—in three days, you would be back in the same position you were in before your bad luck struck.

“Now,” the captain said with an equally smooth smile, folding his hands behind his back, “any questions?”

Nobody spoke up. Whether it was out of fear or simple ambivalence you didn’t know, but you didn’t feel like getting on the captain’s bad side. You planned to keep your head down for three days and figure it all out in Novyi Zem.

“Wonderful. We’ll divide our forces between this ship and the Volkvolny,” he said. “Any of you who wish to transfer ships will be allowed.” His lip curled as he looked around the dingy conditions of the slaver ship. “I doubt you want to spend much more time on board this wreck.”

“Some of my crew will get you situated as we prepare to set sail,” Sturmhond continued. “If you find you have any burning questions later, save them or direct them to Tolya here.” He gestured to the Shu man as tall as a tree standing by him, and he only looked slightly irritated to be given up like that.

“I suppose the only thing left to do is officially welcome you aboard.” Sturmhond swept an arm through the air. “I hope you’ve all earned your sea legs.”

He walked off, Tolya and Tamar following him. They must’ve been his first mates—you were immensely glad they weren’t against you, what with his size and her axes.

But as he did, you couldn’t help but stare. The strangest feeling had come over you during his speech, one that was exacerbated every time he passed the slightest glance at you, every time his expression changed. He was just… unnatural. Unsettling.

You allowed yourself a deep breath and shook your head, trying to focus on the crewmember that was speaking to you all. You didn’t care if he was unnatural or unsettling—you would be gone in three days.

All you had to do was keep your head down.

Sleep wasn’t easy after the day you’d had, but your tired limbs won out after an hour or so of staring at the ceiling. The cot you’d been assigned wasn’t much for comfort, but it might as well have been the plushest mattress you’d ever felt after what you’d been sleeping on before.

You slowly opened your eyes, your grogginess fighting against you at every step, because you had the dimmest feeling that something was wrong. When you saw golden eyes above you, you nearly screamed.

You thankfully held it in, but you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered.

“Sturmhond wishes to speak to you,” Tamar said, wholly unfazed as if she did this all the time. She probably did.

“Why?”

“My job isn’t to ask questions,” Tamar said. She left it at that, and you sighed as you pulled yourself out of the hammock. You followed her, squinting in an attempt not to bump into anything in the darkness. The Volkvolny wasn’t familiar to you yet, but it was easier once you were above deck. You rubbed the grogginess out of your eyes when she opened the door to the captain’s quarters for you.

She didn’t follow you in, and you didn’t know whether it was a relief or not.

“Ah. You’re here.” Sturmhond turned around from a cabinet, holding a bottle of kvas, a slight smile on his lips. “Drink?”

“You didn’t just invite me here for a nightcap,” you said placidly, “did you?”

“Of course not,” he said. “I thought it would remind you of home.”

You frowned. “You’re Ravkan. Who’s to say I am too?”

“How did you know I was Ravkan?”

“Your accent.”

“Then how do you think I knew you were Ravkan?”

“Maybe I will need a drink,” you said bitterly. “It’s the only way I think I can keep dealing with you.”

Sturmhond sighed as he poured a fair amount into two cups. “Such harsh words for a noble girl. Quite a stroke of bad luck for the daughter of a duke to end up on a slaver’s ship.”

“Who’s to say I’m the daughter of a duke?” you asked.

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you really want to keep playing this game?”

You crossed your arms in response, and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“An accent gives quite a bit away,” Sturmhond said. “It’s also obvious to anyone that looks at you—and I assume you have quite a few admirers. You speak Ravkan like a princess, like you were taught in schools rather than the streets. You have a gleam in your eye that says you still have hope. And,” he looked you up and down, “you carry yourself with confidence despite your position. Not the attitude of a girl on the other side of the ditch.”

Your lip curled. “How astute of you.”

“Thank you,” he said with a smile.

“Born and raised in Os Alta,” you acquiesced. You offered a thin smile of your own back. “And I suppose you’re correct. Bad luck seems to follow me as of late.”

“You wound me,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Are you claiming that my rescuing you is a continuation of your bad luck?”

“I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, captain.”

“Sturmhond,” he said.

Your lips twitched in a momentary smile. “I thought you said this wasn’t a rescue, Sturmhond.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, taking a sip of kvas, “it’s an opportunity. I’m just curious of what drove your choice.”

You crossed your arms. “Strange of a pirate to be so curious about a prisoner.”

“Privateer,” Sturmhond corrected, “and you’re no longer a prisoner.”

“My point still stands,” you said wryly.

“Is it wrong of me to be curious?” he asked.

“It’s pointless,” you said. “And if you’re done with your little interrogation, I’d like to get back to sleep.”

“I’m not here to be your enemy.” He sat up, taking another sip of his drink. “Surely you understand that.”

“I understand it perfectly well,” you said. “I just don’t see why you care.”

“Fine,” he amended, “I’ll let you be. Just one more question.” Sturmhond sat up in his chair, leaning forward as he looked you straight in the eye. His were the strangest shade of green. “Why did you run?”

You actually recoiled at his question, your reflex winning over any desire to hold back your emotions. “Excuse me?”

He didn’t waver. “I thought my question was quite clear.”

You picked up the cup he’d poured for you and threw it back. The kvas burned your throat—your tolerance never was all that—but it didn’t make much difference with the scowl already on your face.

“You don’t get to ask me questions, pirate.”

“Privateer,” you heard him correct, and it only made you slam the door harder on your way out.

Three days of keeping your head down should have been easy. Sturmhond, however, appeared to have a different agenda.

He ignored you for the entire next day, but that night, Tamar was waiting for you before you could even get to the barracks.

“Seriously?” you asked. “Did he not get my message clearly enough last night?”

She shrugged. “He just asked to see you again. I don’t know why.”

You sighed and made an offhanded gesture. “Fine. Let’s go.”

You opened the door yourself this time when she got you there, not even bothering to shut it as you stared at Sturmhond.

“What are you playing at?” you demanded.

“Good evening to you as well,” he said. “How did you sleep?”

“What are you playing at,” you repeated flatly.

“I’m not playing at anything,” he said. “Is it a crime to enjoy your company?”

Your jaw ticked, and your hands clenched into fists. “If you’re after what I—”

“I’m not after anything,” he assured with a frown, “and certainly not what you’re thinking.”

His interruption peeved you, but you found that you actually believed him. The tension eased from your shoulders ever so slightly.

“…Good,” you said after a moment. “But I still don’t understand the need for these meetings. I plan to be gone by tomorrow.”

“Because I know you,” he said. “You may not know me, but I consider myself generally knowledgeable of Ravka and its upper class.”

“What,” you said wryly, “do you want my advice on how best to rob them?”

“Of course not,” Sturmhond said. “I wouldn’t need your advice for that.”

You huffed a laugh. “So what do you want?”

“I’ve been at sea for quite some time,” he said, “and you’ve only just left Ravka. I’d very much appreciate it if you could share some of your insider knowledge on the Lantsovs.”

“You assume I have any.”

“I assume that the woman who used to be Nikolai Lantsov’s betrothed would have some,” Sturmhond replied smoothly.

Your heart stuttered for a beat at the mention of Nikolai. Any doubt Sturmhond might have had over his claim had to have dissolved with your expression.

He arched an eyebrow. “Well?”

You allowed yourself a deep breath before you finally took the seat across from him.

“Fine,” you said. “You’ve got me. I’m the daughter of a Ravkan duke and I used to be engaged to a Lantsov prince. Did you just want to prove your knowledge?”

“Not at all.” Sturmhond wisely poured an additional glass—brandy rather than kvas, thankfully. You needed something stronger if you were to deal with this. “I want your knowledge.”

“My being betrothed to Nikolai is why I don’t know as much as you think,” you said. You downed half the glass at once and your chest burned less than the memory. “Nikolai and I were to be wed when we were of age, yes, but he disappeared before I got the chance.”

“Disappeared?”

You nodded. “He was meant to come back after his service so we could prepare for the wedding. Instead,” your lips curled in a disdainful smile, “he up and left. The king broke off our engagement and I haven’t heard a word from Nikolai since.”

Sturmhond frowned. “My deepest apologies.”

You shrugged. “He made his choice. Apparently he’s in Ketterdam studying, but I very much doubt that. He was never good at sitting still. But wherever he is, I hope he’s still alive.” You huffed a laugh. “I cannot imagine Vasily taking the throne.”

“I’m sure he is still alive,” Sturmhond said. “And I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten you.”

“How kind of you,” you said dryly.

He was silent for a long moment before he spoke again. “You say you plan to be gone by tomorrow. Does your plan include returning to Ravka?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I ran from my family and my fate, and that’s why I ended up here. I don’t think I can go back just yet.”

“And what fate did you run from?” Sturmhond asked.

“A marriage I didn’t want,” you said plainly.

“As opposed to the marriage you did want.”

“Are we done here?” you asked. “Because I don’t think you need to know more of my personal life.”

Sturmhond smiled after a moment and nodded. “Yes. But I’d like to see you one more time tomorrow, before we officially part ways.”

“You’re not going to change my mind,” you said.

“And I don’t intend to. There’s just one last thing I wish to share with you.”

“And you can’t do that now?” you asked wryly.

“Patience is a virtue, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He held up his hands. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

“You’re very strange for a pirate,” you said.

“I’m quite normal for a privateer,” Sturmhond said.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head as you stood. “Enjoy the rest of your night, privateer.”

You felt his eyes on you as you left, and now more than ever you couldn’t shake that feeling. You looked at Tamar as you shut the door.

“How long have you been part of his crew?”

“A few years,” she said.

“Do you ever get used to him?”

Her lips quirked into a smile. “No.”

You sighed as the two of you started to walk. “What a surprise.”

You were at Sturmhond’s door the next afternoon, Tamar by your side. She hadn’t come to deliver you, but on your way there she told you she would be joining you. You certainly weren’t going to refuse her.

As usual, you didn’t bother to knock. As usual, Sturmhond was sitting at his desk. Tamar followed you in and shut the door, not as usual. Your brows knit together slightly.

“You actually came,” he said.

“Consider me intrigued,” you said. “I couldn’t just walk off and never know what you wanted to ‘share with me’.”

The corner of his mouth curled up into an achingly familiar smile. “You’re just as fiery as I remember.”

“We just met,” you said dryly.

“On the contrary.” Sturmhond sat up, and he removed his jacket. A metal pin glinted on his vest, a crowned double eagle. The Lantsov coat of arms. Your frown deepened. “You spent the other day describing our lost time together.”

“I’m…” you blinked and shook your head. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m Nikolai Lantsov,” he said. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make me say all my titles, though.”

For a moment, you just stared at him. And then you laughed in complete disbelief.

“Is that what this is? You consider me a fool?”

“On the contrary,” he repeated. “It is because of your intelligence that I deigned to reveal myself.” He offered a wry smile. “And because you don’t hate me the way you should.”

“You cannot just say something so absurd and expect to believe it,” you said. “Anyone can rummage up a coat of arms. I have not heard and or received a single word from Nikolai, and now I am supposed to believe that he is right in front of me?”

“It sounds absurd when you put it like that,” Sturmhond said with a frown.

“Because it is absurd,” you enunciated. “I actually thank you for this, because now I know I’m making the correct choice. You may be a good captain, but you are a complete blackguard.”

You turned and offered a tight smile to Tamar. “Please move. I’d like to leave.”

“He speaks the truth,” Tamar said. “I promise you. He’s Nikolai Lantsov. My brother tailored him into Sturmhond at the beginning of all this, when we joined his crew. ”

You paused and looked back at the pirate claiming to be the man you loved. “What?”

“Nikolai Lantsov is much more valuable as a hostage on the seas,” he said. “No one spares a second glance at Sturmhond.”

“Then change him back,” you said, looking back at Tamar. “Get your brother and make him change him back if you want even the slightest chance of me believing these lies.”

“They are not lies,” she insisted. “And I’m not the best tailor.”

“You’re both Grisha,” you said flatly.

“Heartrenders,” Sturmhond (Nikolai?) supplied. “My most trusted crew. Come on, Tamar— I believe in you. Work your magic.”

She rolled her eyes as she walked over to him, and though your immediate instinct was to take the exit you’d been given, you crossed your arms and waited as she did her work. It didn’t take long for his muddy green eyes to change to hazel, his red hair to blonde. A slightly less broken nose.

He… he looked like the Nikolai you knew. It was staggering to just be standing across from him—or at least a mirror image of him—after so long apart. Older, more weathered, but with the same glint in his eye. The same glint that you looked forward to with each day, the glint that you remembered when you didn’t have him anymore.

“That doesn’t mean much,” you finally said, glancing away. “If you can tailor him into Sturmhond, surely you can tailor him into a Lantsov.”

“You overestimate my tailoring abilities,” Tamar said dryly.

“I still don’t trust it,” you said, and you started again for the door.

“When we were seven, I convinced you to sneak out of our etiquette lessons and go down to the river,” he suddenly said. Your hand froze on the door. “You scraped yourself on a particularly sharp rock while we were traversing the waters—you still have the scar on your ankle.”

You turned around. “How do you know that?”

“My father held a party and your family attended,” he continued. “We were ten and it was the most boring night possible. We evaded our parents’ attention and snuck off to the kitchens.” He smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever had so many pastries in my life.”

A smile of your own, almost subconscious, began to form on your lips. You hadn’t thought of that party in years.

“And when I was fifteen, the year before I enlisted, I did the worst thing I could have done to your father.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I took one of his prized swords and did all sorts of moves trying to impress you—I only managed to dent it and get banned from your home for months.”

“I can’t believe you remember that,” you murmured.

“And…” he sighed and opened his drawer, rummaging around for a moment. He held a ring between his fingers when he emerged, and your heart stopped beating for a second. “I still have this.”

Your hand was shaking when you reached beneath your collar and took hold of the string around your neck. You pulled it into view, and the ring hanging on the bottom glinted in the light.

Your engagement rings still matched perfectly.

Nikolai’s smile was bright as you remembered as the realization hit. “And you still have yours.”

“Of course I do,” you said. “It was a lot of work to keep it in my possession.”

“I’m glad you went through it, then.”

“It really is you,” you whispered, letting your makeshift necklace fall back against your skin. “I— I just don’t understand. Why are you here? Why are you playing pretend as a pirate?”

“Privateer,” he corrected. He glanced over at Tamar, still holding her post. “Could you give us a moment alone?”

She nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. The room felt smaller with just you and Nikolai in it, with the man you were meant to marry who left you in the past.

“I do this because I can do much more to help Ravka from the seas as Sturmhond than gallivanting around court as a second son—a bastard son at that. My parents appreciate Sturmhond much more than they would Prince Nikolai.”

“I appreciated Prince Nikolai,” you said. “I appreciated just Nikolai. You could have at least sent a letter.”

“I know,” Nikolai said. To his credit, he did look mournful. “If there is one thing I regret about all of this, it is how I left you. I said what I said the other day because it’s true—I have not forgotten you. I never did.”

“Then why go through all of this with me?” you asked. “Why annoy me into spending time with you?”

“Because I’ve always been quite good at annoying you,” Nikolai said wryly, then his expression sobered. “And because… I didn’t know how you would feel about me after all this time. Everything you said yesterday was true—I did leave you, and I haven’t said a word to you since. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated me, and if you did, I didn’t want to force myself back into your life.” He managed another small smile. “Fortunately for me, you did not hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Nikolai,” you murmured. “I— I loved you. For a long time, and I think I still might.”

“Even more fortunate for me,” he said softly.

“So why didn’t you come back?” you asked.

“I…” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Still cut in a military style. “You talked about how you despised your parents for forcing you into a marriage at such a young age. I didn’t want to force you into a life with me. If I had known you—” he chuckled, a boyish smile on his lips— “if I had known you loved me, I don’t know if Sturmhond would have ever come into fruition.”

“You are the reason I was here,” you said. “My parents thought they struck gold when the king agreed to a marriage between us. I thought I had struck gold as well, in you—a marriage my parents wanted couldn’t have been all bad if you were meant to be my husband. But you left that in the dust, and they still wanted a husband for me.”

“A marriage you didn’t want,” he echoed, his eyes soft.

You nodded. “They did all the work behind the scenes—I was going to meet him on our wedding day, some Kerch banker’s son. And I just… couldn’t face a life like that. So I ran. And with all the luck in the world—” you gestured lazily— “I ended up here.”

“Then I suppose it’s only fair that I ended up rescuing you,” Nikolai said.

“I thought this wasn’t a rescue,” you said wryly.

He chuckled and shook his head. “No. It’s still an opportunity— one I think you’ll like much more.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I plan to go back and take the throne someday,” Nikolai said, moving around his desk to be closer to you. “But I don’t want to miss another moment with you, not now. So until then,” he took your hand, encasing it between his own, and the warmth it provided was something you’d sorely missed, “will you do me the honor of sailing by my side?”

“I’m not a sailor,” you said with a breathy laugh.

“I can teach you,” he said eagerly. “I can teach you everything I know until you’re a better privateer than me. And you can teach me everything I’ve missed while being at sea—all the noble things I ought to know for when I return home.”

Your lips quirked in a smile, hardly able to contain the giddiness bursting in your chest. Your life went from destruction at the hands of slavers to renewal with Nikolai Lantsov by your side once more.

“How can I refuse?”

Nikolai grinned, and he tugged on your intertwined hands to pull you into a kiss. It wasn’t the first one you’d shared, but it was surely the best. It felt like a promise of something new—the promise that he wouldn’t let you go like he did before.

You were breathless when you pulled away, and the sight of Nikolai, blonde hair slightly ruffled because of you, his lips slightly red because of you, made you kiss him even harder the second time.

Your back hit the side of his desk and Nikolai was practically on top of you, seven years of lost love pouring through him all at once.

“And if it wasn’t clear,” Nikolai murmured between kisses, “I never stopped loving you for one moment.”

You groaned and pulled him even closer, your hands clenched tight around the fabric of his jacket. “You wear too many clothes.”

“Then fix it.” His voice was sultry in your ear and you didn’t know how you went seven years without him.

You were very thankful that he asked Tamar to leave.

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factual-fantasy · 3 months

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22 ASK! THANK YOU! :DDD

@a-weird-bean-bag

They are not related by blood, no. (Blood? Frosting..? Filling?? Anyways-)

Red is actually Seafoam's great Nephew. And he joined the crew because of a tradgedy involving his mother,, Seafoam's niece..

When Red joined the crew he was very shy and scared of everything. Coco at this point was a rough and tough pirate gal.. but man, something about that kid.. she just adored him. She took it upon herself to take care of the little guy and be his guardian.

She loves him to bits and has definitely taken the role of "mother" in his world. When ever the ship is under attack, she is the first to swoop in and take Red to safety. She is the one Red goes to when he cant sleep or is scared. She takes care of him when he is sick, she cleans his clothes and feeds him too.

Seafoam has made it very clear that she does not have to do any of this. And that Red is 100% his responsibility. But she just ain't havin' it. She chooses to be involved in Red's care and wouldn't have it any other way. 💖

Its a good thing too, Seafoam has no idea how to raise little kids <XD

(Also thank you so much!! :DD )

👀👀oh?

@yoylecake420

Sorry uh- I don't know that character. I made some OCs for Cookie run but I haven't played any of the games, I don't know the lore and I don't know/remember any of the characters- sorry!

Ah,, I don't know? <XDD I don't know how the games work- are there other types of cookies?? I don't know--

Judging by what I've heard/seen of that game? They'd run for the hills! They're not safe there <XD

<:D Ah sorry- I don't know who that cookie is- remember I haven't played either game and I don't know any of the lore!

@storylover2

.....OH-

THERES MORE??--

Also thank you so much!! You are beary nice :}}}

@universal-hunter

AAAAWE!!! :DDD THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :}}}}💖💖💖

@couchwow

Thank you for the no spoilers!! :DD I have not seen it but I have heard of it :0 perhaps sometime I'll give it a go! :}

@thetiredpenguin

Man, cookie run lore is WILD XDDD

@sparkdrawsstuff

Thank you! My day today was better than yesterday at least! XD

@keakruiser

AAAAA THANK YTOIU SO MMUCH!!! :DDDD 💖💖💖

I've drawn them twice actually that I can remember! Once in my FNAF Recap/Repair part 2, and once in a doodle dump post thing! :00

@elegantjellyfishmemachine

:0 eh? Huh? Til what?

@readeren

I actually haven't thought much about that :0 I worried that the group wouldn't feel very diverse if I had duplicate characters.. but the opposite personalities but same person is genius! But whompst would be duplicated... 🤔

@blissthewolf

Hello! I believe I do write scripts, but if I'm being honest I don't think I can scrape together even one sentence of sound advice for you- 💔😭💔

I am known to be very bad at explaining how to do things. A lot of what I do is just taking random things and stapling them together and ripping off some parts and gluing this here and put that over there and tada! Comic! "How'd you do that" "...Honestly I cant really remember-"

The only think I can think to say is figure out what you want to come from the scene and.. do what ever it takes to make it happen..? Uhhh- for example, "I want these two characters to fight and character A to leave in a huff." Well then give them something to fight about, and make character B say something that would make character A mad enough to leave without saying anything..?? But that doesn't explain how I would figure out what the argument would be about- I

I'm afraid I am of no use to you here-

@neo-metalscottic

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I'm glad you like my minecraft guys and my cookie run critters! :DD And not to worry- He'll catch on XD right now the main thing keeping them some what apart is Seafoam's thoughts of "She's a beautiful mermaid, why would she be with an old Captain like me..? :( " And Blue's thoughts of "He's a well respected Pirate Captain! What would he see in a big whale like me..😔" But they get past that eventually-- XDD

And yes! I have drawn them before <XD although those drawings weren't made with my Mario AU in mind.. When they grow up they will definitely be more stylized. :0 Not sure how they'll interact with Bowser as they age, but they are intended to all be his biological children :)

As for the birth order, I haven't thought it through fully,, but I have decided that Ludwig is the oldest and next in line for the throne. And JR is the very youngest with Lemmy being second to youngest. And Larry being 3rd to youngest :00

@solst1ce-sketches

Thank you! And to be honest if the D.A was split and gender swapped, I would just slap on some eye lashes and make them both generally appear more feminine.

Glitchy sun tho.. man, how would Fazbear Entertainment deal with that? <XD

@minnesotamedic186

Thank you!! :DDDD

@rubyplayz12

Wah??

(Post in question)

XD Well? Did it work?

#my response #fnaf security breach #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs

225 notes · View notes

probablyspooky · 11 months

Text

One of Us (Alien VS Predator Celtic x Fem! Reader)

Born as if you were a yautja yourself, you join your pack to go on your right of passage trip. But running into other humans always causes problems for you.

Trigger warnings : Blood, swearing, white men of course, British people

The clashing of metal on metal echoed throughout the stone walls you called home, the dry humid head of yautja prime beating down on your skin as you dragged in a crate of whatever into the home. Placing the heavy box onto a small table in the center of the room, a loud crash could be heard, followed by a roar, then two roars, and then finally three roars. You pinched the bridge of your nose and walked down the long hallway to the training area out back. Opening the large door you were greeted with three brothers wrestling one another in anger. The smallest Scar, was grabbing his brother Chopper, trying to get him off balance, as their oldest brother Celtic was holding Scar by the leg and Chopper by the arm trying to separate the two. Spit and growls filled your ears as they continued to try and fight one another.

You coughed trying to get their attention, when that didn’t work, you did it again, louder, making all three brothers freeze during their little scuffle. Celtic dropped both his brothers and walked over to you, draping an arm around your waist.

Despite your origins, and your small stature, Celtic found comfort within you as his mate. You’ve proved your strength through combat strategy, and combat intelligence. His gentle purrs emanated from his chest as he greeted you softly, a bit embarrassed that you got to see his two brothers fighting like that.

“Hello my love,” Celtic purred, placing his chin to your head, “What goes on today?”

You placed a comforting hand onto his arm and looked up at him, typically he would be wearing his combat mask, but today his face was free, you weren’t complaining as you loved him as much as a human could love a creature as marvelous as he.

“A package came,” you told him, looking at the other two brothers who were aggravated by their previous scuffle.

“A package?”asked Chopper, tilting his head towards Celtic and yourself, “Who was it from?”

You rolled your eyes,”You know I can’t read”

“Yeah fool,” Wolf mumbled under his breath, antagonizing his older brother.

Chopper grabbed Wolf into a headlock and the two began scrapping again in the courtyard, Celtic growled lowly, and took your hand, leading you back into the home the four of you shared. The two of you walked into the main area, and he took a look at the wooden crate that was sitting upon the table, reading the label himself.

“What does it say?” you questioned, tilting your head at your mate.

Celtic excitedly picked up the crate and ripped the wooden lid off like it was nothing.

“It is a message from the Elders! We can go on our right of passage soon!”, he clicked excitedly, mandibles stretching out and retracting.

“Does…does it say..?”

“Yes my small one, you are invited as well!”, he clicked, putting the box down, strolling over to you and lifting you into the air in joy.

Now here you were, aboard a ship floating in orbit of Earth, the planet where your ancestors came from, but it was not your home.

The three brothers were adorned in their finest armor, excited for the trip, the crate that had been delivered contained the plasmacaster holders that clipped into their armor, along with a smaller set of traditional yautja armor, armor that now clutched your body tightly for your protection.

“I must say sister,” Chopper started, coming over to the viewing deck, “You look very good in that armor, if Celtic wasn’t my brother, I surely would battle him for your hand”

If only Chopper was a bit more observant, he would notice Celtic standing behind him, the oldest brother was very protective of you, he grabbed his brother's dreads, causing Chopper to yelp in pain.

“My ooman, brother is not a prize to be won,” he growled, throwing his brother onto the ground.

Chopper growled and walked off, possibly to go annoy the youngest brother. Once the sliding door shut behind him, Celtic turned his attention to you.

“Are you nervous?”, he asked, taking your small hand into his

“A bit, I am excited to prove myself again,” you smiled up at him, leaning your head onto his broad shoulder.

“I believe you will be victorious in our mission today, the Elders would not have allowed you to accompany us if they did not have faith in you.”

“Thank you my love,”

“Anything for you”

You could hear the purring coming from his chest, as your wrist gauntlets began to buzz, signaling you to head to the drop pods for deployment.

Walking through the metal halls, and eventually to the loading bay, the four of you entered thin tubes of metal, and soon feeling the pressure drop, you were shot out of the mothership to Earth. Holding onto the sides as the pod shook, and eventually being jolted a bit as the pod crashed into the icey Earth. The pod’s hologram began talking saying the doors were now opened and to hurry and make your clan proud, yet your door never opened. Sighing, you took your boot and began to kick the door out from the inside out, with a couple of good kicks the door dislodged and you were greeted by your mate and his brothers, just standing around your pod watching.

“You could’ve helped,” you groaned, stepping out onto the ice.

“Yeah, but that would be no fun,” Chopper chuckled, turning to the large ice tunnel that led to the temple.

Celtic explained that some other humans were lured here when the Elders began to heat up the temple, forcing the queen to produce facehuggers for them to eventually hunt the xenomorph that would eventually form from that.

Chopper excitedly, pulled out his wrist blades and jumped down the hole to the temple entrance. Scar growling and following his brother, leaving Celtic and you.

“Do you want me to carry you?” he asked, putting his hand out to you.

“In your dreams,” you smirked under your mask, jumping down the hole after them.

“I want you to sire my young,” Celtic grunted, jumping lastly down the hole.

At the end of the tunnel, it seemed there was a small crew at the base of the temple, using your cloaking devices the four of you slowly walked through the camp, trying your hardest not to bring any attention to yourselves. Of course though, a person had to look a bit too hard at the moving figures that seemed to move through nothing.

A man drew his weapon and began firing at you, the smallest target, it dinked off your armor, and of course your mate did not like that one bit.

Celtic let out a battle cry as he charged his massive frame towards the man, kicking him down with little to no effort. You sighed as the rest of the team began firing at your mate, the two others decloaked along with you and began attacking the humans. Grabbing your spear weapon, you charged at a human man, piercing him through his jaw, and swinging him towards his friends. Running and placing your now retracted spear between their two heads, and then releasing it, stabbing the two in the head at the same time.

Eventually the carnage of the three brothers and yourself left no crew members alive on the above surface. Celtic walked over to you.

“Are you hurt?”

“I can handle myself love,” you groaned

He nodded, knowing he would have to put aside his protective nature towards you while you were on this mission.

The four of you made your way to the main chambers, where the plasma casters should be. But no plasma casters were there. Chopper and Scar began to howl with anger, where could they be? Before any words can be spoken, the temple begins to shift, and three paths open in front of you. With a nod, the mission was clear, Scar and Chopper into their own path, and Celtic and you down your own. You bid them a farewell, possibly the last time you would see them, and Celtic and you made your way down your own path.

Despite having separate paths, you did eventually find Chopper, and he was stalking.

Celtic clicked at his brother, “What is it?”

Chopper pointed at a group of people, and you crouched down to get a better look at them. Using your head vision that was in your mask, you listened to them speak.

Celtic nudged you, pointing to a woman in an orange coat, zooming in you could see one plasma caster in her bag.

Chopper angrily cloaked and jumped down. One human with a gun pointed towards him as he fired a retracting net at him. The man fell back, as the spear the net came from began to retract, the wire pulling deep into the man’s flesh. Celtic and you jumped down as well, another man turned to face you.

“You’re small?”, he looked genuinely confused, as you ran up with your wrist blade drawn and punctured him through his gun, he in his last breaths hit you across the face, knocking your mask off.

The woman who was panicking trying to get the man out of the retracting net, turned to face you.

“You’re a woman?,” she shouted.

You had an annoyed look on your face as you walked over to them trying to help their friend from the net, his cries were annoying, pulling out your spear, you looked her dead in the eyes.

“We are of the same species, but we are not the same blood,” you stated, piercing the man in the chest, killing him and stopping his cries.

The woman yells at you killing her friend, she charges as you, you weren’t sure why she would even try, as it was clear you were of a different class. Using her momentum against her, you lifted her and tossed her into the center of the room.

She stupidly started reaching for a pickaxe to attack you with, but Chopper ran over and de-cloaked, kicking the woman across the room. He soon raised his wrist blades over his head to strike her down and to retrieve the plasma caster from her bag. But the sickening sight of the pitch black tail of a xenomorph began to coil behind him. It reeled back to strike, but you ran over, wrist blade out and cut the sharp tip from the beast, it’s acid blood spraying on your skin causing you to yell out in pain as your skin fizzled away.

Celtic, who was handling a human man, throws the man to the ground at the sound of your screams. He rushes over, grabbing the tail of the xenomorph, pulling it down. It began to frail crazily as it struggled against Celtics grasp. Chopper, regaining his balance, grabbed your spear and pierced it though the head, causing the spear to melt away from its blood. Killing the beast instantly. Chopper let out a roar of victory as he was now a blooded yautja, Celtic rushed over to you and pulled your hands away from your face to look at your wounds. Reaching for his belt and pulling out some healing goop, goo? Cum? Healing herbs???? I DONT KNOW

And applied it gently to the fresh scar that now went from the side of your face to your lower cheek.

“Is it ugly?” you asked, feeling the cool ointment being applied.

“The scars of a warrior are the most attractive” he replied, helping you to your feet.

“What the hell is going on!”, the woman shouted at the three of you.

Chopper growled walking over, he was now marked with the symbol of a blooded yautja.

You walked over across the room, past the woman, past the dead man and picked up your mask. Returning to your pack, you placed the mask back onto your face, and one by one the three of you cloaked and ran away into the temple to find Scar.

The three of you found Scar holding the rather old man at the temple stairs. Using your mask you could notice this man was diseased and would probably die within a year or so, so of course Scar tossed him aside as it was not a worthy kill. Not noticing you, Scar began to walk away from the man.

Why are humans so stupid, you watched as this weak man pulled out a flare, and sprayed fire onto Scars back, how pathetic. You watched as your brother turned around and stabbed the man through the gut, killing him and walking away.

Following close behind you watched Scar throwing a shuriken through a closing gate.

“What’s up?”, you asked him, walking with the other two.

“Humans, they’re on the other side of the wall”, Scar grumbled, turning his attention to his sister.

You began to think for a bit on how to get there, not noticing Celtic grabbing a face hugger who was jumping towards the back of your head, throwing it down and stomping on it.

“If we travel through the back ways we can reach them on the other side.” you stated, pulling your gauntlet hologram up to show them the path you wish to take.

“Whatever you say my sister,” Scar and Chopped nodded, cloaking and following Celtic and you.

After a bit of traveling through the tunnels you found yourself in a dark tunnel, the sound of footsteps echoing off the halls. The three brothers moved to the side so that you could face the human woman.

The woman in the orange coat ran down the hall and stopped in fear when she saw you.

“Wait!”, she pleaded, her hands out in fear, she knelt down, and opened her pack, pulling the plasma caster out. The three brothers tilted their heads at the sight of it.

“Kick it over.” you demanded

She kicked it over and you picked it up in your hands.

“Where are the other ones?” you asked, handing it off to Chopper.

“They…we got separated…” she whimpered, putting her hands above her head in fear.

“Where are they?”, you knelt down pulling your wrist blades out and forcing her to look at your mask.

“I’m not sure! Please, one of those things is coming!” she cried, turning in fear as a xenomorph tried to run up behind her, Chopper, now equipped with his plasma caster fired a single shot, killing the beast.

One by one the three brothers de-cloaked, standing behind you.

“What are you…How did you…” she stammered

“Name?”, you asked, tilting your head at the woman.

“Lex…” she replied, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone right now. “You are weak.”, you spat, standing up to leave, the brothers had already begun walking.

Lex didn’t want to be left alone, in this place, with those things, she ran up and grabbed your arm. Celtic let out a roar as he ran up and put a blade to her neck.

“Let go.” you growled, shaking her hand off, “What do you want, human?”

“Uhm, last time I checked you’re human too…I think..”, Lex replied, sheepishly

“That is true,” you stated, tilting your head at her as you stepped close, “What do you want?”

“Take me with you”

You laughed at her request.

“And why should we let you come with us?”

“I’ve seen your search history”

“I can help you find the other…guns?” she stammered, the cold blade still on her neck.

You sighed, and waved your mate off.

“Very well, but if you try anything, my mate will dispose of you”, you added, walking away.

Lex began to take a step and stopped.

“Mate? This thing is your husband?” she sounded shocked.

You groaned at how close minded she was being. This trip wasn’t going how you’d hoped.

After answering a million awful questions about your personal life to Lex, the group came upon the sacrificial chamber.

“How do you feel about your people being used as hosts for these things you hunt?” Lex asked, her voice clearly full of anger towards the Yautja kind.

“Those who give their bodies up for the tradition of blooding are remembered well for their sacrifice. We honor them.”

Walking into the chamber, it was covered in the webbing of face hugger eggs constantly reproducing. Chopper and Scar began to walk around to investigate the bodies, while Celtic began to scan the temple to see how many of these creatures had been created. Lex and you began to walk the walls, looking for any signs of life.

“Disgusting,” you grumbled, feeling the wet under your boot.

“What’s disgusting is what you’re doing”, Lex sneered

You turned to her in anger, drawing your blade you came close to Lex.

“I am only keeping you alive as an act of mercy, I will revoke it at any time.

Lex stammered, her eyes darting back and forth from your face to the blade.

“I’m-”

But then a cry echoed through the chamber, as a man who was fused to the wall began to groan in agony and pain.

#predator x reader #yautja #yautja x reader #predator #alien vs predator

561 notes · View notes

minminyoonjii · 1 year

Note

*based on an idea I saw, not my original idea*

A/B/O setting where one of the skz boys brings home the omega they have been courting to finally be part of the pack but pack traditions state that she becomes the whole packs omega instead of just the one member's. Therefore, the first time mating as a pack, all members need to be present and participate (or maybe whoever you see as an Alpha of the pack)

Maybe shy or even inexperienced reader? Like they quickly realized she doesn't know much about tradition?

Thank you ❤️

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🕯Summary: The pack had grown closer to you throughout Jisung's courting and tonight's the night you get claimed as a pack member. The only problem was you didn't know what you were signing up for.

💛AN

This is my first A/B/O-themed fic, I hope I did well.

🌹CW

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 3.5K

There it stood, the door determining how your relationship turns out. You gulped, "Do they know we're coming?" you asked, fidgeting with your fingers. Jisung nodded, "Yup, they know," he said, watching your nervous figure. "Baby, they're going to love you," he added, rubbing your shoulders. You took in a deep breath, "I know," you whispered, staring at the pavement below. Jisung hummed, "This visit is the same as any other," he said, kissing your forehead.

"Ji, what made you decide to court me?" you asked, knowing you were stalling. Jisung knew too, "Well, I just knew," he chuckled, holding you close. You rolled your eyes, "That's a shitty reason, Han Jisung," you grumbled, elbowing his stomach. Jisung laughed, not releasing his hold "Fine, fine. You drew me in, like a candle to a flame. I couldn't get my eyes off you, princess," he said, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

You couldn't hold back your smile, "Alright, Mister poet. That made me feel better," you admitted, ruffling his hair. Jisung hummed, "I'm glad. Are you ready to head in?" he asked, rubbing your sides. You held your hands together, "Ready as I'll ever be," you said, walking towards the door. Jisung smiled, "That's good enough," he said, following behind you. You raised your arm, knocking on the door. It didn't take long before the front door swung open.

"Hello, little one. I hope you're hungry because Minho made dinner," Chan said, letting you in. "It smells so good in here," Jisung groaned, scampering to the kitchen. You giggled at your boyfriend's antics "Is our pup treating you well?" Chan asked, pulling out a chair. You took a seat, "Yes, more than well," you said, smiling at the loud scream coming from the kitchen. Chan chuckled, "That's good. We can talk about the pack details after dinner, there isn't a need to rush," he said, holding your hand.

You nodded, relaxing under his touch "Thank you," you whispered, feeling the anxiety in your chest subside. Jisung wrapped his arms around your neck "Princess, they're bullying me," he whined, rubbing his scent all over your face. You pursed your lips, letting yourself get smothered in rich honeysuckles. Chan held the back of Jisung's nape "Jisung, you're getting your scent everywhere," he chastised. Jisung huffed, submitting to Chan's hold.

Your eyes widened, seeing Jisung submit so quickly "Woah," you whispered, drawing a chuckle from Chan. "Hyung, can you let me go now?" Jisung sulked, blood rushing up his neck. Chan released his grip, "Is this common for you?" he asked, looking at you with sympathy. You laughed, "Yeah, but it's fine Chan. Though I do have to say, almost every piece of clothing I own smells like him," you said, stroking Jisung's cheek.

Minho gasped, carrying a variety of meats "Han Jisung," he said, setting the food on the table. Jisung whined, "Hyung, not you too," he said. Minho glared at him, "You scented the poor pup's closet." he said, passing the plates around the table. "With consent," Jisung mumbled, taking a seat next to you. Minho looked at you with the same sympathy "I'm so sorry about his behaviour," he said, placing the food on your plate.

You shook your head, smiling "There's no need to be sorry, I allowed him to scent my clothes," you said, taking a bite of Minho's mashed potatoes. "You smell so much of Jisungie hyung, I can barely smell you, Noona," Jeongin said, handing you a glass of water. You gulped, "That's probably a good thing," you said, taking another bite. Chan furrowed his eyebrows, "Why's that?" he asked, placing some meats on your plate.

"My scent is a bit strong, is all," you said, tasting the meat Chan gave. Hyunjin chuckled, "All of our scents are strong," he said, sipping his water. You nodded, "That's true but my scent spikes at any emotion I give off. It's better to wear a scent blocker," you explained, trying the meat with cranberry sauce. "Scent blockers aren't good for you, little one," Chan said, putting his utensils down. "Yeah, but my side effects aren't the worst, just a little rash now and then," you said, ignoring the concerned gazes from the pack.

Warm citrus surrounded the table, like a thick syrup of comfort. You finished the last bit of your dinner, leaning against Jisung's shoulder. He kissed your hair, "They wouldn't mind your scent, princess," he whispered, taking a bite of his meal. You hummed, "I guess," you mumbled, closing your eyes. Jeongin poked Jisung's arm "What does Noona smell like?" he asked, tilting his head. Jisung chuckled, "See," he whispered, rubbing your back.

You huffed your cheeks, blinking your eyes open. "I think it's best you ask her yourself, Innie," Jisung said, patting your arm. You gulped, "My scent smells like berry champagne," you said, answering Jeongin's question. Jeongin nodded, "That sounds sweet," he said, putting his utensils aside. You smiled, "Is it, but it can turn sour really quick," you said, sitting up. Jisung stacked your plate on his, "I'll bring these to the kitchen. Go pick out a seat in the living room and make yourself comfortable," he said, kissing your nose.

You wrinkled your nose, making your way to the living room. "Little one, could you sit here?" Chan asked, gesturing to the seat in front of him. You nodded, curling up into the seat. Chan smiled, handing you a pillow. You buried your face into the pillow, melting into the scent of tonka. 'Very suiting' you thought, taking note of Chan's scent. "Since everyone is here, this is our first official night with our new pack member," Chan said, patting your head as he spoke.

You preened, excitement buzzing under your skin. "Congrats Noona, you're finally our pack's omega," Jeongin said, stroking your cheek. Your smile dropped, "What?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. Chan looked down at you, "What's wrong, pup?" he asked, tilting your chin towards him. Your lips parted, looking into his eyes "What does Jeongin mean about me being the pack's omega? Wouldn't I just be Jisung's?" you asked.

Chan furrowed his eyebrows, "Don't you know the traditions, little one?" he asked, keeping his hold under your chin. "Wh-what traditions? I wasn't raised in a pack," you explained, breath stuttering. Changbin tilted his head, "Are your parents rogue?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. You shook your head, "No, I just didn't grow up in a pack environment," you said, averting your gaze. "Are we the first pack you got involved with?" Chan asked, pumping out his scent to calm you down.

You nodded, taking deep breaths of Chan's scent. "Poor pup probably doesn't even know what she got herself into," Minho said, brushing your hair from your face. "Am I going to die?" you whimpered, heart pounding within your chest. Chan chuckled, "Of course not, little one. The tradition isn't a sacrifice," he reassured, wiping your stray tears. "Oh," you sighed, wrinkling your nose. "Have you ever mated with anyone during your heats, angel?" Hyunjin asked, looking at you.

Blood rushed up your neck to your ears, "No, I usually wait it out," you said, feeling your face burn up. "You didn't try to ease the pain?" Felix asked, leaning against Hyunjin's chest. You whined, "I did, but I'd always lose my rhythm," you said, fading into a mumble. Felix cooed, "Aren't you adorable," he purred, leaning forwards. You looked at Felix then back up at Chan "What does the tradition have to do with my heat?" you asked, not knowing how to feel about Felix's stare.

Chan sighed, releasing his hold on your chin "Pup, I need you to listen to the words I'm about to say and consider them carefully after. Can you do that for me?" he asked, running his fingers through your hair. You keened, deep purrs rumbling from the touch. Chan cooed, "I need a verbal answer, little one," he whispered, stroking your cheek. You shivered, furrowing your eyebrows at the sudden mind-numbing fuzz clouding your thoughts "Yes, alpha," you whispered, nodding at his command.

"Good girl," Chan smiled, letting you rest your cheek on his palm. You nipped the pad of his hand, licking right after. Chan chuckled, "You can scent my wrists, little one," he said, gently brushing his free hand on your scent gland. You growled, raising your shoulders in defence. Chan kept his eyes on yours as he rubbed the scent blocker off. You whimpered, biting into his palm in retaliation. Chan clenched his jaw, making sure the suppressor is gone from your skin.

Sour champagne filled the room in waves, the tart scent of berries hitting the back of everyone's throats. Chan pumped out his own scent, hoping it would defuse the situation but it only made it worst. You gasped, eyes widening as you tried to catch your breath. Soft wheezing and stuttered breathing squeaked from your frame. "Fuck. Bin the windows, Min the ventilation," Chan instructed, airing out the scent-congested room.

"You're safe, little one. Alpha knows it's a lot, but you're alright," he said, taking note of the subtle red spots on your neck. You whined, covering your neck in hopes that your scent would just disappear. Chan gruffed, gently removing your hands away "There's no need to feel distressed, pup," he said, kneeling in front of you. Thoughts spun through your head, "Why are you kneeling, alpha?" you asked, adding more questions than answers.

Chan looked up at you, baring his neck. You gasped, taking in deep shallow breaths. "I know you want to scent someone, little one. Get it out of your system and scent whoever you want. The suppressions can cause your scent to build up, making it more concentrated than it's supposed to be," he explained, watching as you take in each word he said. You bit into your bottom lip "Can I?" you whispered, purrs rumbling within your chest.

Chan nodded "Go ahead, little one," he said, not expecting your sudden weight on him. He grunted, wrapping his arms around your waist as you straddled his lap. You mewled, scuffing against Chan's neck. "That's it, good girl," he whispered, tilting his neck further. You whimpered, head spinning from the way your scent mixed with his. Deep tobacco notes from his tonka scent mingling with your refreshing berry champagne scent felt right.

"It smells like an after-party in here," Changbin pointed out, melting into his seat. Jisung chuckled, "Intoxicated already, hyung?" he teased, wrapping his arms around Changbin's. "Definitely," he said, pressing his tongue against his inner cheek. You panted, pulling your face away from Chan's neck. "Feeling better, pup?" he asked, taking note of your dilated pupils. You nodded, catching your breath. Chan cooed, "You smell so sweet, little one," he said, scratching under your jaw.

You purred, baring your neck for him. Chan chuckled, "Such a good omega," he praised, removing his hand. You whined, squirming on Chan's lap. "Little one, you don't know what you're doing," he gritted, holding your waist still. You squinted your eyes, breath hitching when you felt something twitch beneath you. Chan sighed, "Look at me, pup," he said, redirecting your attention. You looked at him, his hair tussled and messy from your scuffs.

"The tradition isn't anything scary, I promise. I just have to claim you," Chan said, watching you regain your bearing. "How?" you asked, tilting your head. Chan rubbed your stomach, "Have you watched anything sexual before, little one?" he asked. You nodded, "I have. Is Alpha going to have sex with me?" you asked, playing with his fingers. Chan chuckled, "That's pretty blunt but yes," he said, moving his fingers within your hold.

You gruffed, bringing his fingers to your mouth "Is it going to hurt?" you asked, nipping his index finger. Chan frowned, pressing two fingers into your mouth "Of course not, it's never supposed to hurt unless you want that on purpose," he said. You pulled his hand away "Oh, I always thought it was supposed to hurt," you mumbled, nuzzling Chan's palm. "There's so much you have to learn, little one. Do you mind if I teach you?" he asked, stroking your cheek. You gulped, "Okay," you said, biting your bottom lip out of nervousness.

Chan kissed your nose, "Don't worry, pup. I'll take my time with you," he said, laying on your back. You yelped at the sudden shift, feeling a pillow perfectly placed under your head. Jisung smiled, stroking your cheek "Channie hyung is going to take great care of you, princess. If you need him to stop, say red. Okay?" he said, rubbing your abdomen. You nodded, spreading apart your thighs. Jisung chuckled, "That's our sweet omega," he said, kissing your forehead.

You whined, feeling a familiar throb from your core "It hurts," you whispered, clawing into the fur carpet beneath you. Chan lifted your hips, tugging off your skirt "Alpha knows, little one," he said, removing your slicked panties. You shivered, clenching around the chilling air. The scent of boiled-down champagne filled the whole room, thick slick coated your folds. Chan groaned, positioning himself between your legs "Absolutely gorgeous," he rasped, kissing down your inner thighs.

You shuddered, wanting to close your legs but Chan held them down " Alpha, pl-please," you keened, not knowing what you were begging for. Chan hummed, placing a soft kiss on your clit. You squeaked, flinching your arms to your chest. Chan chuckled, "So sensitive," he whispered, flicking the tip of his tongue against your clit. You gasped, bringing your arms closer to your body. "Alpha," you whimpered, arching your back at the stimulation.

Chan growled, making broad strokes between your slicked folds. You moaned, arousal building in your abdomen. Chan groaned, savouring the thick globs of champagne hitting his tongue "Fucking hell, little one," he cursed, slurping up your slick without an ounce of shame. You cried, sensitivity washing over you, "Al-alpha, I'm scared," you whimpered, feeling the coil within you tighten. Chan cooed, kissing your pulsing pussy "Don't be afraid and let go, pup," he rasped, lapping up your slick with more vigour.

"H-hgh," you whined, squirming from Chan's tongue. Chan growled against your sensitive nub, drawing a silent scream from your lips. You mewled, arching your back "Alpha!" you wailed, squirting your arousal. Chan moaned, head clouding with lust "Good omega, squirting all over your alpha," he praised, pulling away from your throbbing core. You stared at Chan with half-lidded eyes. Chan smiled, brushing back his slick drenched hair. "Fuck, hyung. I think I just came in my pants," Hyunjin said, palming his hardened cock.

You sniffled, "Alpha," you whimpered, making grabby hands towards Chan. "Aww, are you feeling alright, pup?" he asked, smothering your face in kisses. You nodded, burying your face into the crook of his neck. Chan chuckled, baring his neck "You're doing so well, little one," he praised. You purred, letting his scent envelop your senses. Chan smiled, gently removing himself from your hold. You hummed, content with the warm fuzzy feeling. Chan stood up, tugging off his sweatpants and boxers together.

Felix whistled, "A full course meal," he teased, staring at Chan's length. Seungmin sighed, "Pixie, stop disturbing Chan hyung and come here," he said, spreading his legs. Felix giggled, kneeling between Seungmin's thighs. Chan shook his head, a smile etched on his lips "I hope your libido is controllable, little one," he said, booping your nose. You giggled, biting your lower lip as Chan came closer to your core. He slicked his fingers in your arousal, "I'll go slow, pup," he said, pushing his finger to his second knuckle.

You whimpered, rolling your hips to his thrusts. Chan hummed, "Can you take another?" he asked, rubbing your clit in tandem. You nodded, "Yes, yes, yes pl-please," you begged, clenching his finger. Chan chuckled, slipping another finger beside the first "Good girl, just relax for me," he cooed, stretching your tight walls. You mewled, digging your nails into the carpet. Chan another a third finger, working you open for his hung cock. You moaned, whimpering whenever he curled his fingers against your g-spot.

"I think you're ready, little one. Do you need me to stretch you further?" he asked with four fingers spreading your semi-gaping hole. You shook your head, sweat beading your forehead "Need alpha n-now please," you stuttered, getting impatient from waiting. Chan shuddered, using your slick to coat his cock "Alpha's got you, pup," he said, lining up his cock head with your pussy. "Please," you whimpered, making eye contact with him through your half-lidded eyes. Chan growled, pressing his cock within your walls.

You mewled, letting Chan push your legs closer to your body with each inch he eased in "So big," you slurred, purring at the feeling of being filled. Chan groaned, pressing his forehead against yours "You're still so fucking tight, little one," he cursed, rolling his hips. You gasped, soft moans spilling past your lips "Fa-faster," you stuttered, cupping Chan's chest with your hands. Chan grunted, "As you wish, pup," he rasped, quickening his tempo. You keened, melting under his deep thrusts.

Chan growled, fucking into your warm walls with tender thrusts "Taking me so fucking well," he gritted. You whimpered, "Alpha, alpha, alpha" you slurred, pleasure fogging your every thought. Chan pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into a deep kiss. You moaned into the kiss, deep purrs rumbling within your body. Chan chuckled against your lips, quickening his rhythm. Your breath hitched within the kiss, accidentally clenching your walls around Chan's cock. "F-fuck," he groaned, throwing his head back.

Your skin prickled at his raw groan, sending goosebumps down your arms. Chan shuddered, regaining his bearing "My god, little one. I don't I can hold back anymore" he said, rutting his hips. "Then don't. Please alpha, don't hold back," you pleaded, wrapping your legs around his waist. Breathy moans escaped Chan's lips. "Do as the princess says," Jisung rasped, stroking Changbin's cock in tandem with Chan's slow ruts. Chan felt himself losing composure, "Okay, if anything happens say red and I'll stop, pup," he said, hooking your legs over his shoulders.

You nodded, "Okay, alpha. Pl-please fuck me hard," you sniffled, heat spreading under your skin. Chan growled, staring at the subtle bulge appearing with each drag of his cock within your hole. "Please," you whimpered, staring up at him. With that, the remaining composure Chan held left. He pulled out slightly, drawing a loud whine from you, only to fuck you in one quick thrust. You choked on your whine, sputtering as Chan fucked you in a hungry daze. "Alpha!" you wailed, arching your back.

Chan gruffed, nosing your neck while keeping his unrelenting pace. You sobbed, tears streaming down your cheeks at the constant pleasure setting your nerves on fire. Chan grunted, feeling his knot grow with each thrust. You bared your neck for him "Chan!" you wailed, pushing against his thrusts. Chan clenched his jaw, reaching his hand down to rub your swollen clit "Are you close, little one?" he asked.

Your body tensed up, bundling parts of the carpet into your palm "So so cl-close," you choked up, quivering under Chan's mercy. Chan picked up his tempo, fucking his knot into your walls. You cried out, feeling his knot stretch your walls further. Chan grunted, "Cum for me, omega," he commanded, fucking his knot into your pussy. "F-fuck!" you cursed, cumming around Chan's cock. "Fuck," Chan groaned, nosing your neck as his knot locked itself within you.

He kissed up your nose, "Relax omega," he whispered, sinking his teeth into your scent gland. You mewled, writhing under his hold. Chan growled against your skin as your walls flutter around his knot. He rolled his hips and with one last powerful thrust, his knot snapped. A copious amount of semen filled your pussy. Chan pulled off your scent gland, "You're ours now," he growled, licking the mark. You purred, milking every last drop of his cum.

Chan shifted your legs off his shoulders, "There's one more thing you have to do, pup," he whispered. Jisung stroked your hair, "This will be quick, princess," he said, cumming on your torso. One by one they came on you, coating their scents on your body. You giggled, tasting the citrus scent you smelled from the dining table. Chan cooed, finding you endearing "Our little omega," he said, scooping the cum for you to taste. You parted your lips, sucking Chan's cum slicked fingers till there was nothing left.

Minho tapped Chan's shoulder, "Wipe her down, we'll get the bath ready," he said, handing Chan a wet towel. You preened under Chan's gentle touches. "The pack's bed is ready, there are clothes from everyone if you want to nest, princess," Jisung said, wiping the cum off your hair. You nodded, barely able to open your eyes. Chan chuckled, "Such a sweet and sated little one," he said, stroking your cheek. You gave him a dopey smile, "Thank you, alpha," you slurred, exhaustion catching up to you. Chan cooed, "It's our pleasure," he said.

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dockett · 3 months

Text

All The Very Best of Us II Din Djarin x Reader

Born to Beg For You: non-linear one shots. The Mandalorian helps a slave.

Summary: You take some initiative.

Warnings: minors dni, 18+ only! Smut!! Oral/fingering (f! Receiving), unprotected p in v.

Word count: 2.6k

Hello my friends! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come out with another post, but here you are! This takes place after Everything I Love! Hope you all enjoy!

You fidgeted, nervous as you pulled at the bra you were wearing. You watched your reflection as you listened to Djarin move about the ship. You sighed, looking over yourself. The lingerie was a deep red, crimson as blood, and it hugged your body in all the right ways. You felt… pretty. A rarity.

Would he think the same?

You pushed away the immediate thought of rejection that followed, your brain conjuring the image of the Mandalorian refusing you—dismissing you even. Shaking your head, you tried to focus on the facts: he allowed you to sleep in his bunk now—encouraged it, even. You had learned in your time with him that his primary love language was physical affection, his arms always wrapped around you at night, his hands always finding a place at the small of your back during the day. You had danced around your affection for each other, never verbalizing it.

He had told you weeks before that he had wanted you, but he wanted to take it slow. You hesitated again. Would this be pushing the boundary he had wanted to hold with you? You finally met your eyes in the mirror, and you heard him make his way into the cockpit, no doubt doing his final check over everything before getting settled to rest with you.

You nodded to yourself as you came to a conclusion, you would try, and if he wasn't ready, it didn't mean he wouldn't eventually be. Before you could second guess yourself, you opened the fresher door and made your way to his bunk.

You sat down on the bed to wait for him and you felt the seconds tick by, slow and agonizing.

When you heard his footsteps, you leaned back, staring at the door. He knocked once, asking, “Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you called, bracing yourself.

The door slid open and he stepped once before stopping completely. His helmet was focused on you, visor gleaming in the low light. He didn't move or speak, making no indication of what was on his mind. You glanced away, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I… I hope that this is okay,” you mumbled. “I was—well, I am—nervous.”

He shook his head after a beat, stepping fully into the small space and closing the door behind him. You swallowed, bare feet rubbing against each other in anxiousness. He took another step, and lifted his arms, slowly reaching to discard his gloves. You held your breath as his golden skin came into view. His hands reached for you as he got closer, fingers wrapping around your ankles and pulling your feet apart.

A shudder ripped through your body as he finally spoke. “This is more than okay.” His voice dripped with desire and a feverish heat ravaged through your body, lighting your skin on fire. “Do you think you can do this to me and get away with it, mesh’la? Maker, you're tempting me.”

He knelt down onto the bed, his hands now tracing up your thighs. You breathed harder, head tilted down as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes.

“Tempting you?” You asked coyly. “I'm not doing anything.”

He hummed. His hand gripped your hip as the other came to your cheek, cradling it in a gentle hold. His thumb brushed over your lip. You knew he was staring at them from under that visor. You were seized with an idea, and slowly, you took his thumb into your mouth and without looking away, you sucked.

His hand tightened its hold on your side and his chest heaved. You smiled, delighted by the effect you had on him and released his thumb with a loud ‘pop!’

“Senaar…” he groaned. Your thighs trembled and wetness pooled between them.

“I want you,” you told him, moving to kiss the palm of his hand. You had wanted him for a long, long time. His body pulled away, and you frowned, reaching to keep him close, but he was too fast for you.

Panic ensued, and you felt that maybe you shouldn't have said what you said. The room was plunged into darkness a second later as you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Need to taste you,” he growled, stepping back towards you. Then, you heard the sound of metal being set down. A harsh realization struck you. He was taking off his armor.

“Stop,” you said. All movement halted. It was impossible to see anything with the lights off. “Are… are you sure?”

A pause before you heard, “I am.”

“Wouldn't that be—”

“It's fine, mesh'la.”

You hesitated, but finally nodded. “Okay.”

Nervousness tingled in your stomach and he told you to take off your bralette. More soft clinking sounds echoed through the room, and then the unfamiliar hiss of his helmet being detached. The bed dipped with his weight, his hands reaching and finding your legs in the dark after you had discarded the lingerie. You startled when you felt his lips, and the faintest scratch of facial hair, along your calf.

His hands trailed up the tops of your thighs, fingers curling around your underwear before sliding the pair off and down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor. He kissed up your leg, and you shuddered. Was this even real? Was Din Djarin really between your legs, helmet forgotten, or was this another dream?

He meandered, taking his time with you. When his breath coiled over your pubic mound your hips bucked. He chuckled, the sound almost foreign without the modulator in the way. Your breath hitched in your throat as his arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you down firmly in place.

You whined, shivering as he kissed the junction of your pelvis and thigh. You could feel his smile against your skin. Maker, his smile. You trembled again, gasping out, “Don't tease me.”

“Getting impatient?” He said back, tone light. Your thighs threatened to slam close around his head, his voice shaking you to your core. He laughed again, and then leaned in closer. “I've been waiting to taste you, senaar. Teach me.”

Your hands reached for him then, your skin on fire from his breath. Fingers pushed into his hair—curls—and pulled him closer to you. His tongue tentatively licked up through your folds and your back arched off the bed. You'd been waiting, too, you realized. You'd wanted this for a long time.

A soft hum came from the man and then without hesitation as you tugged on his hair, he ate you out like he was starving for it. Maybe he was.

His right arm moved, releasing your thigh as he brought his fingers to your pussy, dipping a digit into your entrance. He licked small circles around your clit, an action that had you seeing stars. Your hand tightened its grip, and your moans increased in pitch.

You could feel it rising within you, your orgasm threatening to break you with its growing intensity. He listened to every change in tone, every jerk of your body, repeating his patterns and inserting another finger. He curled them inside of you. Your body arched off the bed again. “Djarin!”

“Again,” he growled. “Say it again.”

You did so, repeating his name like a prayer until you couldn't even think of anything else. All that was in that moment was him, his hips grinding into the bed in time with the thrusts of his fingers, his mouth sucking on your clit, his breath insanely hot against you. It was all too much.

“Yes, yes! Right there!”

“I want you to cum on my fingers, mesh’la. Want to taste—”

Your thighs abruptly slammed closed around his head as your climax ripped through you, exploding inside your abdomen, causing your body to tighten over and over again as you shook. Liquid fire filled your veins and you felt like you couldn't get enough air into your lungs. You groaned his name as he worked you through it, pace slowing but not stopping. You could hear him talking, little words in Mando’a—mesh'la, kandosii’la, ner riduur.

You didn't know what the words meant, but you craved them all the same. You scrambled to try and get away from him as the attention became too much, hissing through your teeth.

“Nayc, mesh'la,” he asserted. “I'm not done.”

You shivered as his arm grew tighter around you, holding you down. His fingers curled inside of you. Your body jerked in response, a high pitched whine dripping from your lips. Everything you could feel and hear in the dark was him, and Maker you wanted this to be how it was every night.

He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest that had you reeling. You had said the last part out loud. Your face burned. He licked a broad stripe over your folds and your insecurities were pushed away and out of your brain.

“Din, please,” you mumbled as your head lulled to the side. Another swipe of his tongue had you shaking, hips jerking against his hold.

“Please? What do you want?” He asked as the hand you had in his hair slid down to caress his cheek. Din leaned into your touch.

You swallowed, relaxing back into the bed. “I want you inside me.”

His head pulled away and you twitched when his lips pressed against your stomach. Climbing his way up to your chest, he kissed you every inch of the way and you reveled in the feeling of his powerful body sliding against you, of his lips on your skin.

The Mandalorian’s mouth was hot on your nipple when he licked over it, his teeth experimental as they grazed over your breast. Your body arched into him and he eagerly began to suck on your nipples. Soft sounds escaped from your mouth, which seemed to encourage his tenacity.

His mouth, after satisfied with both nipples, began to trail up to your neck, where he kissed up and across your jaw. You turned to meet him, your lips locking together in a surprisingly chaste kiss. He exhaled loudly and pulled back when you brushed your hips against the hard bulge of his flight suit. Your hand fell to his shoulder, the other entwining in his hair.

“Will you fuck me, Din? Please?” You whispered into his ear.

All Djarin could do was nod before pulling away completely.

You heard a shuffle as he took off the last layer of clothing he had on. When he came back down and reached for you, you grabbed onto him and rolled you both over, until you were on top, legs straddling his hips.

His hands slid up your thighs to your hips, where he gripped them firmly. You shuddered at the feeling of his hard cock pushing up against your core, and you rocked your hips against him. He huffed, his fingers tightening on your flesh. You repeated your movements, filled with delight and excitement when you heard him groan.

“Mesh’la,” he gasped. “Please… want to be—”

You listened as he cut himself off with a gasp as you reached down, wrapping your hand around him and pumping several times. You continued to hold him against your folds, covering him in wetness. Din breathed hard, his body shaking under yours. When you were ready, you slid him inside of you.

His whole body jerked under you as he hissed through his teeth. You let out a growl of satisfaction, feeling his hard and delicious length fill you up in every way you wanted. His grip was sure to bruise as he panted beneath you. Your hands came to rest on his chest and you tested the waters by shifting your hips slowly.

Your hands tightened on him in return when you heard Din whine. You couldn't help your bodily reaction as your thighs squeezed his hips a little tighter. You were making him, the mighty Mandalorian, into nothing but a whimpering mess beneath you. Fire lit inside you, burning through your veins, and you leaned down, moving one of your hands up to his jaw, where you tilted his head up. You brushed over his lip with your thumb in the dark before you brought your lips to his.

You rolled your hips, drinking down the sounds he gave to you with each rise and fall of your body. Your lips moved together as his hands moved and brushed up to your hips. He gave a gentle push and pull, diligently keeping time to your rhythm. You pulled away from the intimate kiss, before peppering kisses down his jaw and neck to his collarbone. You pulled yourself up and began to set a harder pace.

Djarin’s moan then was a deep and gravelly growl, his hands pushed you harder as he brought his own hips up, slamming into you unexpectedly. You pitched forward as his arms came up, wrapping around you and holding you tight to him. His mouth found your neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses over your skin. Your body jerked against him, a gasp dripping from your lips as he started to fuck you.

He moaned softly against your skin, “So… tight… senaar.”

Your body tightened as his voice, thick with the fog of pleasure, washed over you. You quickly began to grind your hips down, meeting him thrust for thrust. His mouth came up the side of your neck until he found your earlobe. He gripped it gently with his teeth before tugging on it, which caused your body to jerk. You quickly became overwhelmed, trying to focus on shifting your body to keep up while he distracted you with his teeth and lips. He continued to breathe hard against you.

Placing your hands on either side of him, you pushed against his grip. His arms fell away, and his pace slowed, letting you take back the control. You felt elated and ravenous, beginning to bounce up and down, hearing the slap of your skin against his. His name dripped from your lips and he jerked up in response.

You could feel it rising within you, an impending orgasm being pulled from deep within your stomach. Your body began to tense, fluttering around his cock as your eyebrows furrowed. You moaned, loud and uncontrolled, as he shifted up against you once more. His hand reached up, moving to grab onto your breast as he sat up. He found your nipple with his mouth, sucking it eagerly, and then you were lost in the darkness.

Your eyes slammed closed, brightly colored dots dancing in your vision. You felt yourself shake against him, your body twitching and jerking with each wave of your release. Din stilled, gasping and pressing you down onto him to prevent you from moving further.

“Where can—senaar’ika—I can't—”

Through the trance of pure pleasure, you could see him holding back, waiting for you as best as he could, wanting to please you. You rocked your body forward and back, signaling to him as best you could without words. You felt too overwhelmed to speak. Within seconds, he was pushing in and out of you, your thighs a twitching mess, before burying himself as deep as he could. A strangled grunt dropped from his lips, a strained whimper of your name, and then he was twitching inside of you.

You practically collapsed, body falling against his. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you off of his cock while keeping you pressed close to him. You both breathed hard in the dark and suddenly you felt like crying. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this safe.

“Rest, cyar’ika,” he said to you, his breathing finally calmed. “I will be here when you wake.”

You immediately felt comforted, curling even closer to him, and soon your eyes were closed, and you were drifting into sleep. You felt him settle down beneath you, both of you enveloped in the darkness, and basking in the presence of each other until you couldn't think anymore.

#dockett1109 #feedback welcome #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #fanfiction #fanfic #lemme know if i missed somethin #Plz be patient too bc I don’t have a beta lol #born to beg for you #btbfy

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bad268 · 1 year

Note

Yes hi hello, do you write smut because you have Bernard the elf in what you want to write and nobody writes smut of him I swear.

Also, if not then I'd like fluff of any kind, say reader cuts their hand and Bernard patches them up!

Preferably a female reader, but if you want to do nb or male that is fine too 💞

New Rules (Bernard X Elf! Reader)

Fandom: The Santa Clause

Requested: Clearly (Sorry I don’t write smut, but I loved this request! Also, sorry, I may have taken the injury a little far as it was something I actually did at work but...I hope you like it <3)

Warnings: Injury depictions, lots of blood mentioned

Pronouns: She/her

W.C. 1301

Summary: The reader gets injured on the job, and Bernard helps her out.

As always, my requests and ships are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Google/Bustle)

There was not enough time. There was so much to do, and so little time to do it. Christmas was fast approaching, Santa was visiting the Millers, and Bernard was running like a chicken with its head cut off. Everyone was frantically trying to meet the deadlines, and everything was just so hectic! I was sitting at my station, screwing wheels onto trucks as quickly as possible. I must have been going too fast because before I knew it, my grip slipped.

Even with the blood dripping onto the table, I did not realize that I cut my hand until Curtis came up to me.

“Did you know that it is a biohazard and violation of rule 1627 to knowingly bleed at your station, and possibly, contaminate presents? I’m gonna have to report this to Santa,” He chastised as he opened the book to rule 1627. He started talking more, but I was not listening. I was focused on the growing pool of blood in my palm. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Why are you lecturing her, Curtis?” Bernard sighed with a roll of his eyes as he walked over to the station, immediately moving to take the book away from Curtis. “Just let them work. You are wasting her time.”

“I am not!” Curtis exclaimed, pulling the book back. “I am here to enforce the rules, and their injury is breaking rule 1627!”

“What injury?” It is then that Bernard notices the puddle of blood in my hand that has begun to overflow onto the table. I followed his eye line, finally actually looking at my injury, and I felt lightheaded immediately. In response, Bernard rushed forward to apply pressure on my hand, and he pulled a cloth from his pocket to clean up some of the blood to see the wound. Once he got a clear view of the injury, he came around the bench to help me stand, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Come with me. I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“But I need to finish these before Santa gets back,” I tried to argue, but my thoughts were getting jumbled. I leaned more into Bernard’s side, suddenly not feeling strong enough to stand on my own.

“No, you are coming with me to the infirmary, now,” He said, pushing past Curtis, who was still going off about rule 1627 and deadlines. “Curtis, no offense, but shut up.”

“And that right there is a violation of rule 2256,” Curtis replied, smugly, “The head elf must treat all other elves with respect, regardless of personal feelings.”

“And you are breaking the only rule I remember,” Bernard said, pointedly, trying to move past Curtis. “Rule number 9, an elf's mental and physical health prioritizes deadlines and even Christmas.” Curtis was, for once, speechless. Bernard knew he finally won an argument against Curtis, but he suddenly became aware of the bloody cloth in his hand. “That being said, Curtis, do not stand in my way.”

In the infirmary, Bernard made quick work of cleaning and wrapping my hand. Thankfully, the wound was not too deep to require stitches since Bernard had no idea how to do stitches, but it was still pretty deep. He cleaned it up, apologizing after seeing me wince, and wrapped in it gauze. “Should stay put for the rest of the day, but don’t take my word for it. There’s a reason I’m not a medical elf,” he laughed.

“It’s better than I could do,” I joked back. “Thanks, Bernard. I really appreciate it.”

“Now, I don’t want you going back to your station today,” he started. I began to object, but he made a motion for me to stop. “You are going to go in the kitchens, eat something, and chill for the rest of the day. No exceptions.”

“Was that a pun?” I laughed, moving to stand up and adjust the gauze. I lost my balance for a second to which Bernard grabbed my shoulders to steady me.

“That’s all you go from that?” He replied with a weary smile. “And stop doing things so fast. You lost a lot of blood.”

“Sorry, didn’t think standing would be so strenuous,” I replied sarcastically. He gave me a pointed look before I changed my tone. “Fine, but I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Go eat, drink some hot cocoa, sleep, I don’t know! Just don’t do work,” He responded. “Simple.”

“Well, if it’s so simple,” I started, and I could see the gears turning in Bernard’s head along with what I was saying, “you’d have no problem with joining me?” I could not tell if it was the blood loss making me delirious or not, but I thought now, 4 weeks out from Christmas, was the best time to shoot my shot with the ever-so-busy head elf.

“There’s not enough time for me to take a break,” he sighed. “You know that.”

“Well, when was the last time you took a break?” I pressed. He hesitated, and immediately, I knew he could not remember the last time he took a break. “Maybe you need to take a page out of the rule book. Rule 9, what was that rule again?” I asked rhetorically, tilting my head in a joking manner.

“An elf's mental and physical health prioritizes deadlines and even Christmas,” he exhaled, knowing exactly where I was going with this. “Please, I don’t have time for this.”

“Not with that mentality,” I relented, grabbing his hand with my good hand, as I pulled him towards the kitchens. “If there’s one thing I learned from Carol, it is if you can’t remember the last time you took a break, it’s been too long. Now, you are going to chill with me before you work yourself to death.”

“Y’know, I didn’t think you would be this assertive when injured,” he laughed as he let me drag him around the square. Some of the other elves looked at us funny, and a couple of the yonder elves giggled at our antics but continued on with their activities.

“Oh trust me,” I chucked, pulling him into a little shop that did not have loads of elves inside. I pulled him into a booth beside me. I leaned into his shoulder and whispered, “I’ve always liked you, but maybe I just needed a push.”

“Well, you know what?” He whispered back, leaning closer to me as well. “I’ve always thought about you, but there are rules for that.” “So many rules, Bernard!” I exclaimed, throwing my head back. “Don’t you wanna live a little? What is Santa gonna do? Fire you?”

“I don’t know?” He responded sincerely. “I don’t really want to find out either.”

“I’ll handle Santa if he tries anything,” A new voice responded from behind us. Our heads snapped around to face the one and only Mrs. Claus. “You two deserve to be happy. Forget about the rules for once.”

“Look at that, you’ve got someone in your corner,” I laughed. “Are you going to take the chance?”

“If that’s your way of saying that today’s events are considered a date,” he paused. I was giving him the side-eye as he pretended to contemplate his choices. “I accept, but I need to tell-”

“No worries! I will take over your responsibilities for the day,” Carol offered. “You two enjoy your day.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Claus,” I responded. She headed out of the shop, and it was just the two of us again. “So, no more working, no more deadlines, no more stressing, no more Curtis, and no more rules for today.”

“Well, there are still rules! We can’t have disorder everywhere!” He interjected.

“Well, I’ve got some new rules for you,” I replied quietly, “and none of which relate to work.”

~~~~~

#bernard the elf x reader #bernard x reader #bernard the elf #bernard the elf x you #bernard the elf x y/n #the santa clause #the santa clause 2: the mrs. clause #bernard x you #bernard x y/n #bad268 #ship268 #thing268

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skellymom · 2 months

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UNTITLED FIC SNIPPET

CROSSHAIR x READER NON GENDER

Background: Crosshair brainrot stuck in my head. Reader helps The Batch rescue Cross, Omega, and Tech from Mt Tantiss only to get separated from the group and have to make their escape...then losing track of everyone for a long extended period of time. Reader and Cross have navigate living with each other on the stolen Imperial ship with the hope you can find your clone family again.

Word count: 325

No warnings, just angst and fluff

The open air market on some back water Outer Rim moon provided a distraction. The textile stand caught your eye. Beautiful scarves...you picked up a jet black one with fine silver metallic strands running through it.

"Good choice. It compliments your hair." The elderly shop keep stepped from behind a long quilt hanging behind the counter.

"Marv! Are you flirting again?" An older woman approached playfully teasing her husband.

"Now why would I do that when I have you, my sweet Meileroon? Besides, here's their partner now."

Crosshair sauntered up to the counter, amused at the comment.

"Hello honey" He teased.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his "greeting." "What do you think of this scarf?"

"Hmm, not really my style." Cross reached down to pull another from under the pile. "Now this one..."

This scarf was rusty red with fine intermittent off-white paired stripes dispersed through it. Crosshair draped it around his neck. "What do you think?"

The blood drained from your face.

"No..." You dropped the scarf and hurried away from the stand.

*************

Cross caught up to you a few moments later...still wearing that damned scarf.

"Care to explain?"

Grabbing the fabric in your fist. "That's HIS scarf...NOT YOURS!

Cross softened. Not a trace of snark on his face. "You were in love with Hunter?"

"We are STILL in a relationship, Crosshair! Just because Hunter and I are apart doesn't mean that ended."

Crosshair stared directly into your eyes with such an intensity...it was difficult to keep eye contact.

"So...I complicate those feelings." It wasn't a question. He didn't need to ask. He KNEW.

You noticed his eyes changed from brown to grey in this perfect light. The light of the sun setting on this backwater moon. Almost the exact color gray of his brother's eyes.

You sighed deeply, letting go of the scarf. Your hand dropping to rest, open palmed on Crosshair's chest.

He stepped closer, placing his warm hand over yours...

**************

Yes...I have several other fics that I MUST WRITE more chapters to/finish...but this MAN...what is happening to me??? Dammit Crosshair...you Silver Vixen...haunting me with your snarkiness and slutty skinny getaway sticks...

...I've got the fever...FOR MORE CROSSHAIR!

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

@fionajames @thecoffeelorian @genericficerblog @crosshairs-right-nut @arctrooper69 @littlefeatherr @askyourfox

I need to tag more people, but wanted to rush this out before leaving for Tuesday Trivia Night with friends! PLEASE message me or let me know if you want on the taglist! Thanks!!!

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cutechan555 · 3 months

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‼️HOLD UP‼️

I see you have found my blog, before you proceed into the blog take a look here

Hello everyone my name is Cutechan555 but you may call me CC

Here's the template if you'd like to use it

I'm 23

I live in Egypt

My main language is Arabic so you may find dumb grammatical mistakes in my posts

I'm a really awkward and a shy person

This an ANTI NSFW blog

The DNI :

pedos, zoos, Racists, Zionists, just terrible people in general

The blog rating is (13-16+)

The type of stuff I post most of the time

Angst

Rather delicate subjects

Dark themes

Blood

Disturbing imagery

Sensitive content

Peppino with hair (I'm sorry)

If you're not a fan of that stuff I'd suggest you scroll past them

I make sure to research the subjects I include in my work so I don't end up making a really poor portrayal if I ended up doing that please inform me

And

if you don't like my content that's fine, just please you can block me I'm not good with dealing with negativity and please keep it to yourself and your friends

This is a Pizza tower blog so you'll find nothing but pizza tower content and some crossovers along the way

BUT

Before exploring this blog make sure you played the game or at least watched a gameplay as the content here is not faithful to canon unfortunately so I don't want anyone to get misinformed

🩵 Art requests 🩵 →

CLOSED

❤️ Art trades ❤️ → OPEN

💜 Commissions 💜 → Don't know how nor have the resources for it lmao :')

Will do

Pizza tower

Sugary spire

Ships

Any Pizza tower au

Pizza tower OCs

OC art

Won't do

NSFW

Suggestive drawings

Complex detailed drawings

Comics

COMICS

Sideblog

Thank you for reading the introduction you may proceed but please take care 🩷🩷🩷

One more thing yes I'm 23 but I'm not really that smart nor the most mature so uhm bare with me

And if I don't respond to DMs it's not that I'm ignoring just can't find the right words to answers

Thank you!

#pizza tower #Pizzasona #finally did it #blog intro

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whumpcereal · 7 months

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tales from the kennel

hello! a new mini-series is a brewing, starting with this horrific two-parter focusing on justin and tony, whom we met here. part of the kennel universe (master list here), but set before will and tommy are kidnapped.

content warnings for: extreme dehumanization, referenced noncon, future noncon, future dubcon, forced nudity, references to human trafficking, all the gaslighting, branding, restraints, pet whump, captivity whump, filmed whump, creepy whumper, adult language

orpheus, part one

Tony has tried so hard not to think. Thinking, he knows, is no longer required of him. Not here. Probably not ever again.

He’s been sold. Fuck, the word makes his naked skin crawl. It still doesn’t make sense, no matter how long he’s been here. People are not bought and sold. Of course, Doc doesn’t call it that. Doc calls a kidnapping a “rescue;” trafficking is just “finding someone a good home.”

But when Tony lets himself think, he knows it isn’t true. He wasn’t rescued, and he doesn’t need to find a good home. He has a good home–or at least, he used to.

It hurts to think of the little yellow house he and Justin bought together. They barely got to live in it before–well, before all of this. But when Tony curls on the floor of the doghouse at night, when he closes his eyes, he can see the wallpaper they chose for the front hallway–birds of paradise on an orange field. He can see the rack of copper pots hanging over the kitchen island; they were too expensive, but Justin insisted that anyone who cooked like Tony deserved the very best.

It hurts the most when he remembers their bedroom. The overstuffed duvet, the matching bedside tables, the soft light of their twin lamps. Their bodies moving together in the dark. Safety. Comfort.

Tony has neither here. And no matter what Doc tells him about the “wonderful home” he’ll soon be packed off to, Tony knows there won’t be safety or comfort there either. He won’t have a home. There is no home without Justin. There is no Tony without Justin.

Tony knows he will disappear entirely once Doc sends him away. He’s already started to. It isn’t Tony who endures Doc’s training for the camera; it’s Fido. It’s Fido whose red collar is cinched a notch too tight. It’s Fido who sucks, who begs, who bends to be breached like a trained whore. It’s Fido who will be restrained in the waiting crate and shipped thousands of miles away.

It’s Fido who wears the still-healing brand of his new owner between his shoulder blades.

But it is Tony who feels the pain. Even if he knows better than to think, he can’t help but feel.

Tony feels the rough heel of Doc’s hand against the puckered skin of his new scar, and he groans before he can stop himself. It’s only been a few days since Doc came into the doghouse with the branding iron, and Tony’s skin still feels like it’s on fire. Tony doesn’t even know what the damn brand looks like, but he bets he could guess the shape by the pattern of the blood throbbing beneath his skin.

Doc only chuckles. “Oh, now, boy. I know it’s a little uncomfortable now, but think of what your new gift means! Someone loves you enough to claim you for his own. You’re so close to going home!”

“No!” Tony cries hoarsely, but his words dissolve into animal keening when Doc hooks his nails into the brand.

“Yes, you are,” Doc insists. His voice is still gentle, even as he digs further into Tony’s wound. “Don’t undo it by being a bad boy now.”

“Please!” Tony begs. The burning is almost as keen as when the iron first landed on his skin. Doc slaps Tony between the shoulders, and Tony’s knees come out from under him; his belly lands hard against the cold floor.

“You don’t want to ruin your gift, is that right?” Doc chides, letting his hand slip up the back of Tony’s neck and into his dark hair. He scratches idly at Tony’s scalp.

The humiliation is a brand all its own.

“You know, it’s an honor to be adopted by someone so important. You’re going to have so much fun, and I know you’re going to be so good for him. He’s tuning in all this week so that he can get excited for your arrival next weekend. Imagine someone so important giving up so much of his time for a little rescue like you. Aren’t you a special boy, Fido?”

Tony shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think about what’s coming. Doc’s already showed him the crate he’ll travel in, the special hood he’ll wear to dampen his senses, the fur-lined cuffs built into the box to keep him still. He’s been promised drugs that will keep him calm for the trip. Tony doesn’t know exactly where he’s being sent, but he knows it’s far. Far from here. Far from the little yellow house.

Far from Justin.

“I want to go home,” Tony says before he can stop himself. “Please, I–”

Doc’s hand freezes in Tony’s hair. “But you are going home!”

Tony shakes his head. “No. You don’t–I–please, Doc, Please. I’ll be good. I promise. Just–”

“Don’t make the people think you’re ungrateful, Fido. Not all of my rescues get the opportunities you have.”

Tony wants to scream. Yes, he’s had so many ‘opportunities’ since he’s been here. The opportunity to be restrained and groped and filmed and drugged and starved and beaten. To be coupled like a brood mare with any one of a dozen faceless people in red collars. To know exactly how weak he is, to know for certain that it took almost no time to break him entirely.

But he doesn’t scream. Because he knows better.

“I’m grateful,” Tony forces himself to say. “I-I–” he swallows around the lump in his throat, “I just don’t want to leave you.”

He pitches his eyes to the floor, but it doesn’t matter: Doc knows he’s lying. The man bursts into laughter.

“Oh, my sweet little pup. What a performance!”

“I’m not–”

Doc’s hand presses against the brand, and Tony is silenced by the searing pain.

“I know you have mixed feelings about leaving, and I know it isn’t because of me.”

Tony stares up at Doc through the blur of his tears. The pain in his back is white hot; the knot in his chest is worse. He never mentions Justin to Doc. He learned early on that there was no point; Doc won’t give him any answers. But now that he’s being sent away–

“The little mutt will be just fine without you,” Doc says. “You haven’t seen him in months anyway, have you? You should be used to it by now.”

But Tony will never be used to it. They didn’t get enough time. They’d only been married for a week when Doc found them. When Doc took Tony’s wedding ring, it hadn’t even had the chance to wear a groove in his skin. It was like he’d never worn a ring at all.

“Please.” Tony shifts his weight back onto his stomach. He lays his arms prostrate on the floor. “I have to see him.”

Doc shakes his head. “I don’t know, boy. Don’t you think it will be harder? He isn’t coming home with you. He might be jealous. I don’t want you to feel badly about your good luck–and I don’t want it to be more difficult for him. I haven’t found a place for him. Not yet.”

Tony closes his eyes. He hopes Doc never finds a place for Justin, that there’s still a chance that Justin will make it back to the little yellow house, even if it’s without him.

“I want to–to-to say goodbye. Even if it’s hard.”

He doesn’t say that he wants to say goodbye because he’s almost certain it will be the last time he sees his husband. At the very least, it will probably be the last time Justin sees him alive. Tony is under no illusion that he will escape the situation waiting for him overseas. He knows he will be used until he is a dry husk, and then he will be crumpled up and thrown away. He can only hope that someday, Justin might have closure. That Justin will sit at the kitchen island with another man who will make him enchiladas and kiss that spot on the back of his neck and banish the nightmares that will surely haunt Justin for the rest of his life.

Tony doesn’t have a choice. His nightmare is going to swallow him whole. But with the time he has left–he needs Justin to know that it will be alright, even if Tony won’t be there to see him through.

Doc chuckles softly and tucks his fingers under Tony’s chin, forcing Tony to meet his eye. “You are an affectionate little thing, aren’t you?”

“Please. Before–” Tony chokes on the lump on his throat, but he holds Doc’s gaze, “--before I go home.”

Doc’s eyebrows raise. His mouth curves into a grotesque smile. “Well, look who’s decided to be a good boy.”

“I won’t fight,” Tony whispers. “I promise.”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

As though to prove it, he manages not to flinch when Doc shifts his grip and presses into the soft meat of his cheeks. Doc dips his thumb into Tony’s mouth and presses his tongue flat. Tony stays still. He wants Doc to believe him. It’s the only way that he will get to Justin.

Doc sighs, slipping the calloused pad of his thumb back and forth over Tony’s tongue. “You understand that you’ll have to follow my rules? That you have to be obedient if you expect a treat?”

Tony does his best to nod, even as Doc’s touch teases the opening of his throat.

“And you’ll be a good boy on your trip home?”

Another half nod. Doc pulls his thumb backward, but he keeps Tony’s tongue pinned down.

“Then I’ll let you see him,” Doc says thoughtfully. “But you won’t say goodbye.”

Tony’s brow wrinkles, and Doc laughs.

“You won’t say anything, actually. You won’t speak at all.”

Tony’s mouth twitches in an attempt to protest, and Doc seizes his tongue and yanks. The thin skin that connects his tongue to the base of his mouth flares with pain. Tony whines involuntarily, but Doc doesn’t let go.

“He doesn’t know what it is you’ve been up to all this time. He doesn’t know that you’re being adopted. I didn’t think it was good for him to know, since the two of you were never going to find a home together. Makes it easier to wean him, doesn’t it?”

Tony squeezes his eyes shut again. He and Justin found a home together. They just never expected it to be ripped away from them like this.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy,” Doc snaps.

Tony complies. What else can he do? He promised he wouldn’t fight, didn’t he?

“You’re not going to make any of this worse by spilling the beans. You may agree to stop fighting, but if he finds out you’re headed home, he won’t. He’s already a naughty little thing, and I don’t particularly want to deal with any more guff from him.”

For the sparest of seconds, Tony’s heart soars. Justin hasn’t given up. He’s still fighting. He can make it. He will.

But Doc’s voice brings him back to earth.

“See, he isn’t as valuable to me as you are, Fido. It’s going to be hard to find him a place. And I can’t have you making it any harder than it needs to be. I’ve got limited resources, you know? So, here’s the deal: I’ll let you see him if you promise not to say a word.”

Tony nods again, even as his tears finally break free. He doesn’t want Justin to see him bitted or muzzled. He wants to kiss his husband, to tell him that he loves him one last time. He wants to say goodbye. But if this is all Tony’s got, he will take it. He’s learned to take what he can get.

Doc finally lets Tony’s tongue go, wiping his thumb on Tony’s cheek. “But it’s a little performance test for you, boy. I’m not going to make this easy for you. I want you to show me that you mean what you say.”

“I–” Tony rasps. He pushes himself up on his hands and clears his throat. “I don’t understand.”

“You are not leaving the doghouse until it’s time to pack you up. That means I’ll be bringing the mutt to see you. And I expect you to do what you’ve been trained to do.”

Tony’s gut freezes. His eyes drift up to the camera closest to them.

He can’t. He wants Justin more than anything, but he can’t subject Justin to this. Not when he won’t even be able to explain. There will be too many things he can’t explain. The cameras. The brand on his back. How sorry he is. And how much he loves Justin.

It’s too much to ask.

“But–”

“I will bring him here, and you will show him what you’ve learned. If you want to see him before you go home, those are the expectations. Take it or leave it.”

“He doesn’t know–” Tony tries, but Doc’s palm comes down hard between his shoulder blades.

“And he won’t know.” Doc leans close, pressing harder against Tony’s ruined skin. “If you say a word, I’ll kill him.”

“No!” Tony cries. Justin has to get out. He cannot die here.

“I told you, he isn’t that valuable to me. The only reason I haven’t put him down yet is because my Annie’s taken a bit of a shine to him. She’s never had a pet of her own, and I like to see her happy.”

Tony feels bile rising in his throat. Justin is no one’s pet. Maybe that’s all that Tony will ever be now, maybe that’s a foregone conclusion, but he has to believe that Justin still has a chance.

“You can’t–”

“I won’t, so long as you show us all what a good boy you are. I’m not even going to muzzle you; you’ll get a chance to really show off your training. I’m sure your new owner will be watching, and you’ll want to make sure he’ll be excited to see you.”

Tony collapses over his knees. He’s going to be sick. He can’t do this. He can’t make Justin do this. He doesn’t know what Doc’s done with Justin, but Tony knows he isn’t a red collar. Tony would know if he were. Tony’s body knows every red collar, even the ones he hasn’t seen; he’s tasted them and felt them move inside. None of them were Justin. Tony would never mistake Justin’s touch.

He can’t make Justin a part of this–but he knows that he has to. Doc has him trapped, sure as if he were already packed in the crate. He should never have tried to bargain. He doesn’t have the head for it anymore. After all, he isn’t meant to think.

“You can’t go back on it now, boy,” Doc murmurs. His hand slips below the brand, scratching a gentle line up and down the knots of Tony’s spine. “And you get to say goodbye. Just like you wanted. Only not in so many words.”

Tony doesn’t move. He falls into the gentle touch, just the way he’s been trained, and he stays still. There’s nothing he can do anyway. He knows if he fights now, Justin is as good as dead.

“It’s romantic, in a way,” Doc says wistfully. Tony can hear the smile in his voice. “Do you know the story of Orpheus, Fido? My Annie has a big book of Greek myths that I used to read to her before bed, and that one was always her favorite. Made her cry, but I think she liked the tragedy of it all.”

Tony knows the story, but he can’t remember. Not right now. The only thing he can recall is Justin’s face. He shouldn’t have asked to see him. He should have let himself be packed away and lived with the memories they’ve already made. He curls in on himself. Doc keeps stroking his back.

“Orpheus had a chance to rescue his love from the underworld. All he had to do was to lead her out without turning around to look at her. He just had to trust that she was there, and they’d both be free. But he turned around just as they were crossing the threshold, and she was pulled back into the underworld forever. Because of his weakness.” Doc leans close to Tony’s ear. “This is your Orpheus moment, boy. Don’t be weak.”

Tony can’t stand it. “You’re not giving me the chance to save him from anything,” he says, his voice toneless and hollow.

Doc’s fingers crook against Tony’s cheek. “No, because I’ve already rescued you both.”

Tony should laugh, but he only squeezes his eyes shut again. He’s dreamed about rescue, but he knows now that it will never come. Not for him. There is no escaping the snare he’s just set for himself.

“But,” Doc says thoughtfully, “I am giving you the chance to protect him.”

“From you.”

Doc’s hand withdraws. “From himself. He’s got to learn, and you’re going to teach him. You’re going to show him what a good boy looks like.”

Tony looks up at Doc, the older man’s image distorted by the pane of his tears. “Why do you hate us so much?”

“Oh, Fido. I don’t hate you. I could never hate any of my rescues. You’re all such vulnerable creatures. But just like you’re going to protect your mutt, I have to protect you. I know it’s hard, giving up what you thought your life would be. But I saved you from something so much worse.”

It’s bullshit, but Tony is sure that Doc believes it. The man abducts innocent people and strips away their humanity like bits of old wallpaper, but he believes that he’s serving the greater good. Tony only wishes he could believe too. It would make all of this so much easier if he could believe that this torture was saving him from something worse.

But he knows better. He knows that someone else would have driven by the service station eventually; he knows that if they had been smarter, if they hadn’t gotten in Doc’s truck, they would be at home in the yellow house right now. They wouldn’t have died. Someone would have come. Doc didn’t save them from anything. Doc stole them.

“It’s hard for you and the mutt, I know. But I can’t always place everyone together, so the separation was necessary. So you could get used to the idea. But I’m not a monster, Fido. And so I’m going to give you this chance to ease your parting. But if I let you off your leash, I know you’d run amok. And that’s not modeling good behavior, is it? So, there are rules. It’s as simple as that.”

“You’re insane,” Tony says. “You said you’d kill him–”

Doc swats at Tony’s nose. “Bad dog. That’s enough. The mutt won’t be put down if you do as you’re told. But if you don’t, it’s no skin off my nose. This isn’t a charity, even if it is a rescue operation. Cost-benefit analysis. You’ve earned your keep these last few months; the mutt is a drain on our resources. But this little guest spot might just be his meal ticket until I figure out what to do with him.”

Tony opens his mouth, to protest or beg, he isn’t sure which, but Doc’s hand stops his voice.

“I’ve heard enough out of you. I think your new rules apply starting now. You make a peep, I won’t even go to the trouble of bringing him in. No bark. Do you understand?”

Tony’s chest heaves with a silent sob, but he nods. He knows Doc is as good as his word.

“Hup hup,” Doc commands, and Tony pushes himself onto all fours, even as his limbs tremble beneath him. Doc pulls a leash from his belt loop and clips it to the ring on Tony’s collar. “Fido, place.”

Tony’s cheeks color with shame, but he crawls to the center of the glass box, his leash dragging behind. He knows that this is the spot with the most advantageous camera angles, that he’s expected to hit his mark so that his viewing audience gets exactly what they are paying for.

“Sit.”

Tony complies and lets his bare ass fall back over his heels. He sets his hands flat on the floor in front of him. Doc crouches down and tethers his leash to the anchor in the floor.

“Stay.”

As if there were any other option.

Doc rises and goes to the locked door. He looks back over his shoulder. “You remember your rule, Fido. I’ll be right back with the mutt.”

...to be continued

taglist: @darkthingshappen, @oddsconvert, @sparrowsage, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @highwaywhump, @squishablesunbeam, @hold-him-down, @whumpsday, @sowhumpful, @termsnconditions-apply, @irishwhiskeygrl, @deltaxxk, @d-cs, @whumpinggrounds, @canislycaon24, @considerablecolors, @starlit-darkness, @scp-1296, @flowersarefreetherapy, @morning-star-whump, @whumpwhittler, @susiequaz12, @whump-world, @hiding-in-the-shadows, @tasteywhumpee, @whumplr-reader, @sad-boys-anonymous, @whumpzone

#the kennel #tales from the kennel #doc barker oc #tony romero oc #justin huang oc #whump writing #pet whump #star crossed lovers #these boys need hugs

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thevoidscreams · 5 months

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Sweet red wine

Chapter 1 Things get steamy as you help your favorite astartes experience more things. No smut yet but there's plenty of need. and kissing.

Pairing: my Blood Angel oc Cornelius X Reader

Another day, another list of chores to do. No matter how much you wanted to stay in bed. But that was life, especially if you were a serf to the Legiones Astartes. And here on the Sword of Baal there was a never ending stream of tasks that seemed to need doing. But by far the best task, in your humble opinion, was armor duty. Most of the marines liked to keep theirs on while you cleaned and polished those precious metal plates. And there was no marine better than Cornelius. He was a kind soul who was gentle and never abrasive towards the serfs, the same wasn't always true about the higher up aboard the ship.

But what did that matter to you? He was also very noble and handsome and he let you alone polish his armor.

He said he favored the way you cleaned it over the others. But in truth it was just that he liked you. You would never shy away from him or act meek as you go about your tasks. Your bright smile always made his day just a bit better and he'd seek you out when he could, just to see it. And you spoke to him as you worked, sharing the latest bit of drama with him.

"Good morning Cornelius."

The space marine turned his head up and smiled.

"Hello." He returned and set aside the book he'd been reading.

"Are you done with all of your chores already?"

"I am. I did them as quickly as I could without leaving them unfinished. I need time to make sure I get your armor spotless after all."

Delighted, the marine sat still on his stool. Waiting for you to start. "So what's the recent drama?"

Taking up your first rag you sighed dramatically.

"Well, someone took Andreus's bottle of cleaner from his cubby in the closet and he insists it's Lania. But she swears it's not her. But here's the thing, we've caught her doing it before. I tell you Cornelius, she's a cleaner thief. And "why?" You might ask. It's because she doesn’t want to go all the way down to the main supply closet and get a new one like the rest of us."

Cornelius nodded along and hmm'd at appropriate moments. The serf drama was almost always harmless squabbles triggered by someone being lazy and not quite pulling their weight.

Cornelius refrained from chuckling so he wouldn't disrupt your work. His shoulders and torso were the first place you started. Top to bottom was key unless it was just a spot cleaning. He watched your hands work circles against his plates and allowed himself to almost become entranced by the sound of your voice, focusing on the meanings of every little word. He hadn't been to battle or to drink in a while. He could practically feel your pulse as you hovered near him. He knew he couldn't hurt you even as his fangs pricked at his lower lip. He'd have to drink soon. The hunger was so sharp. His gaze wandered. Traveling up your arm past your shoulder to your neck. Hidden behind the high collar of your shirt.

You shivered, your focus disrupted as you felt a chill run up your spine. The kind that you got when you saw picts of Tyranids or other monstrous xenos lifeforms. The pricking of fear of being stared down by something predatory.

But that wasn't what Cornelius was. He wasn't a monster, he was an angel. A son of Sanguinius. Sure, you'd heard rumors about the legion in your years serving them. But those were stories….right? Older crew who'd been serfs much longer than you had warned you of bleeding around the Astartes of the blood angels legion. But it hadn't been an issue before.

Suddenly you felt very self conscious, hyper aware of every movement your body made. Of every potentially sharp edge of his armor. However despite that, there was also an underlying thrill to it all.

"Is everything alright?"

You glanced up at his handsome face, smiling but still self conscious.

"Yes, all is fine. I just want to do the best job I can."

He nodded, the fine curtain of wheat gold hair swaying as he continued to stare with those slate gray eyes.

Your heart thumped against your ribs. He really was so handsome. It was ridiculous.

Everyone knew the sons of Sanguinius were almost inhuman in their beauty, but most didn't actually desire them.

It was almost impossible for you to understand them. How could they not desire the Astartes around them? Your reason for feeling self conscious suddenly shifted and you felt the need to take a quick breather. But that might make him suspect something was off.

'Just keep working, just calm down.'

However, that was going to be hard to do with your panties soaked. Every moment a new fantasy would spring to your mind and the room seemed to grow warmer and warmer.

A gauntlet clad hand startled you as it came up to lift your chin, concerned gray pools scanning your face.

"Your face is very red. Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah." You squeaked, "just uh, feeling a bit warm is all."

"Oh, you should remove your shirt then, you're wearing another layer underneath, correct?"

True, you were, but only a tight under shirt that was keeping your chest secure so it wouldn't jiggle as you worked.

That made a whole new category of fantasies spring to life in your mind. But you did as he suggested, and the suddenness of cool air on sweaty skin helped a bit.

"How is that now?"

You nodded. "It's better."

You took up the rag again and applied fresh cleaner to the plates of ceramite.

The undershirt didn't leave much to the imagination, it was more of a cropped top.

Cornelius had begun to suspect that you were not being entirely truthful. Your heart was pounding and he could hear it. He could also smell the subtle shift in your hormones, his plate prevented you from seeing that it affected him too. Especially now that you were practically half naked behind such flimsy bits of cloth.

The Astartes reached for you again. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with one red finger. The red of his armor was so striking against your skin. It reminded him of blood, and of urges he was too ashamed to admit. Not even the chaplain understood, when he'd mentioned having urges he'd simply chalked it up to the thirst. But this wasn't like the red thirst or the ever present threat of the rage. This was different and his brothers seemed oblivious to this need. It felt wrong but also so incredibly human. It made him feel like a teen again. In those times long passed before he'd been taken up and raised above most of his fellow humans. He remembered seeing the pretty girls around him and feeling this warmth. This need. His secret shame was feeling it for you, his favorite serf. His favorite human.

You were pretty, more than that even. He wasn't blind, he knew what most people would consider attractive, but he was terribly inexperienced with women. He and all his brothers were, after all it wasn't his job to seek comfort or pleasure. He was the emperor's righteous fury, the light in the endless darkness. But oh how he wished for just a short time he could be the one protected by another's light. It's why he insisted on you, his favorite serf, coming everyday to polish his armor. To touch him and fill him with that light.

Your small wide eyes searched his expression for some explanation as to his sudden touches. But he just smiled and pulled you in close with one large arm. You practically fell into his lap as his arms encircled you. Your heart fluttered like a bird caught in a cage.

"Cornelius?" The sound of your voice was so small and unsure of what to make of this.

"I-i am sorry." He stammered, "I do not know what came over me. I just needed.." needed what exactly? He couldn't say, but holding your small form on his lap felt like a step in the right direction. But he wasn't sure how to proceed.

What he knew of affection, or at least the affection that wasn't platonic between his brothers and himself, was the few brief glances he'd seen of the human crew sharing intimate moments. Touches, kisses, and such. He knew what sex was, of course, he wasn't stupid, but he'd never touched a woman.

His cheeks grew hot. Not that that was going to happen, not without you wanting it too. He'd never force that on to anyone. But oh how he longed to know what that kind of passion felt like.

Cornelius was startled out of his contemplation by the touch of your bare hand on his cheek. "Are you feeling okay? You're acting very strange."

His hands felt unusually shaky as they trailed up and down your back.

How should he say this? What if he scared you off? Or even scarier still, what if he didn't. He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of.

"I want…" He scolded himself for not having the words. "I want to, uh.." He wanted to do the things he'd seen with you. To hold and kiss you and, oh Emperor preserve him, to do even more if possible. His plates would have to come off for that.

"To? I need you to tell me Cornelius, I want to help you."

His expression turned bashful and you were surprised to see him blush.

"Kiss me!...please. I want you to kiss me. The way others do. The way…lovers do." His confession was abrupt and it left you feeling like your brain had just fallen out of your head.

"Kiss? Like us, kissing?.. Yeah I think I can. I've never kissed an Astartes before. Am I even allowed to do this?"

Cornelius shrugged, there were no rules against Astartes having physical relations, at least none he knew of. And besides, it'd just be a kiss. At least to start out it would be.

Well, nothing to it, but to do it, as your mother used to say. Trembling you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek to start. You'd need to work your way up to actually claiming his lips. His skin was smooth and firm, like a marble statue. But it felt nice, so you kissed his cheek again, this time closer to his lips, but not quite.

Cornelius could feel frustration and some other unnamed feeling rising in him. But he made himself content with holding you and letting you work at your own pace.

You hadn't been anticipating being in a make out session with your favorite space marine. But it wasn't the worst turn of events.

Gathering your courage you, taking his cheek in your hand, pressed a kiss to his lips.

Cornelius had to fight the urge to tighten his grip on you. It was like clicking a piece of a puzzle into place. As your lips pressed sweetly to his, he wasn't sure what to do next. He let out a soft groan of frustration as you pulled away and looked at him.

"Is this your first time kissing?" You asked, serious in your inquiry, but not in a mocking manner.

"Yes." Cornelius felt an unusual pang of worry. Had it been that bad that it was so obvious.

"Okay, well I know where to start off then. When you kiss there are a few ways to go about it." Your cheeks bloomed with red.

"How should we go about it?" The Astartes seemed almost excited. "Well that depends on what you want or like."

Cornelius sighed and looked around the room, as though the ornate walls would hold the answer to the question.

Gingerly he picked you up, it was an odd feeling for you both. For you it was odd to be carried around as though you weighed nothing. And for him it was the pleasant feeling of having you in his arms.

He walked the short few paces to his cot and set you there. The material wasn't quite comfortable but it was no less unpleasant than the mattresses in the serfs quarters.

He doffed his armor rather quickly, returning to the cot as eager as you'd ever seen him.

"May we begin?" His lower body was warmer than yours, pleasantly so, you noted. "Sure."

He scooted closer, waiting for you to continue. You cleared your throat and went on. "You mentioned kissing the way lovers do. But that doesn't narrow it down so much."

Cornelius's fingers drummed on the cot. Perplexed. "Perhaps you could show me the way you like to be kissed, and we could move from there?" He suggested.

That was doable. You stood to straddle his lap, his hands came up to cup your rump and back.

Shivers of delight accompanied the touch. Cornelius leaned down his lips brushing over yours happily, you kissed him back, pressing in with tender need. Your hands came to rest on his cheeks as your touches and kissing became more eager.His lips were softer than they looked, perfectly warm and pliable. They melded together with yours as if they were made to. It sent tingles of pleasure up and down your spine and you moaned softly into the kiss. Cornelius pulled away startled by the sound. “Are you alright? I didn’t injure you in my excitement, did I?” His steely eyes were so sincere it stopped any laugh you might have produced. “No, Cornelius, it just felt..” you grasped for a way to describe it without being too lewd. “Very good. It felt so good I couldn’t help myself.” This seemed to lighten his mood again and he pulled you back in, closing the distance between the two of you. Everything about him was intoxicating and getting lost in him would be so easy to do. His lips caressed yours, tender and allowing you to take the lead again. Which you did with much enthusiasm. A natural rhythm was worked out silently as you both grew more confident. The sensation of it all was electric and left you feeling even more needy as your hands roamed up to glide through his soft golden locks. His own hands began to explore your sides and hips and even your thighs. Squeezing with gentle pressure, as he moaned into the kiss.

Time seemed to slip by as the two of you stayed in each other's embrace, lips locked in with amorous intent. “Cornelius..” You sighed breathless as you came apart to breathe. As you did he leaned down to press his forehead to yours. “That was wonderful, thank you.” He smiled and relaxed into you. “Was it everything you hoped it would be?” You nuzzled his nose with yours, the differences between the two of you completely forgotten. “It was, thank you. We will have to do this again.” He assured you. It made a deep excitement bloom in your chest.

“I would like that very much.” You replied, as he kissed your forehead. He sighed in relief and found that strangely his hunger was far less severe than it had been before and made a mental note of it. He’d have to have this special time with you more often.

When you left he got back up and donned his armor again the red thirst was slated strangely enough but as he dwelt on it during his meditation he felt a different urge surfacing. It was hot and distracting. He’d have to make a note to ask you about that the next time he saw you.

#warhammer 40k #astartes #Blood Angel #space marines #space marine x reader #space marine oc #my writing

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wjehfshs · 11 months

Note

Hello again! It's me the person who requested na'vi reader x horangi and könig, I really liked what you wrote and I'd like to request another avatar x mw2 crossover, the tf 141 get a mission on pandora but it's a mission that will take place in the reef, and that's where they meet mreader, like he was just fishing and he finds the team there and he's really chill about them, he wasn't mad or angry at them he just let them be, the team notices how calm and gentle he is, until his spirit brother dies and that's where he loses his shit and becomes hella violent, just throwing his spears at anyone that was on the ship that killed his brother, the team had not expected him to be that aggressive, he then sees a recome threatening to end Gaz's life and he goes crazy and throws his spear directly at the recomes head with no mercy, he already lost his brother and he doesn't wanna lose his dear friend, hopefully I didn't write too much and I hope you have a great day and remember to drink water! :D

Also I'm gonna put this ☺︎ any time I request something so you know it's me

-☺︎

Ty for the request!

Reader is Metkayina, male reader, readers chill until he loses his spirit brother, Gaz nearly gets killed, violence, blood, very slight gore mentions

The 141 had been set out on a mission on Pandora

A scientist had hidden an avatar bed somewhere and stolen a prototype of the reef avatar

They hadn’t been given avatars due to being able to have their own base on a boat

When they first discovered you, you where out fishing by yourself

You where always a bit of a loner, especially since the Sully family came to your village for refuge you didn’t really like to stay there

You went outside the reef to get some alone time and stay away from drama that the Sully family would cause

They where out on the oceans of Pandora, travelling to where their target might be next

That’s when they noticed you emerging from the water on your Ilu, spear in hand

You emerged right in front of their boat, you where curious as to what they where doing there

You had heard of sky people and they had heard of the reef people

They had learned Na’vi from some teachers back on the main base

Soap was the one who first spotted you

He stared at you

Your light, teal blue skin

Flat, thick, fin like arms

Flat tail

And curly hair

“Bloody fuckin Jesus!” He jumped and held his hand up to his heart in shock, he didn’t expect to see a giant, male, adult reef Na’vi to just appear

He hadn’t even seen the forest Na’vi yet

You looked at him, silently, but calmly

He reached for his comms and called the rest of them out

They all rushed out at the sound of Soap telling them he was standing right in front of a Na’vi and an Ilu

You stared at them, blinking

They all stared back for a moment before Price spoke up in the best Na’vi he could muster

“Hello. We are the taskforce 141. We are simply here to catch a target and go on our way”

You smiled and held back a laugh

You giggled a little before speaking up in your native tongue

“That was good, but you are still like a baby, barley able to speak”

You spoke so flawlessly it was so odd to them

“Ah well… you know” Price blushed slightly and scratched his head

“I am [name] I am part of the Metkayina clan”

You put your hand to your chest and put your head down in a bow as a sign of respect

“Oh! Oh yes of course my name is John Price, but you can call me Price for short” He said awkwardly

“My name is Kyle Garrick but everyone calls me Gaz” Gaz said sheepishly, also struggling to speak Na’vi

“I’m Simon Riley but I also go by Ghost” Ghost said shortly, in an accent you didn’t recognise

“My names Johnny Mactavish, but my call-signs Soap” Soap ushered to himself

They all looked at the tattoos that decorated your body and face

You led you Ilu up to the boat and promptly stood off

They knew the Na’vi where massive but when they are actually face to face with one it’s so much more intimidating than they expected

They all looked up at you like a little kid against a fully grown man

They all stepped back so they didn’t have to strain their necks just to look at you

“You said you where here to capture someone yes?” You questioned them calmly

They all looked visibly nervous, even Ghost

“Yes. Yes we are, a scientist went rogue and we are trying to track him down” Price answered

“Ah! Scientist? Jake Sooly told me about them, they uh… what do they do again?” You questioned again, Na’vi accent prominent when saying Jake Sullys name

“Oh they uh, study the world around us” Gaz answered back to you

You nodded

“I must mention though. I would recommend staying away from the villages, the other clan members are not too, fond of you sky people” you warned them

“Not too fond how?” Soap asked

“Uh. Well, I would recommend staying away from them if you want to keep an eye” you laughed to yourself

After a little while longer of talking with them and telling them about your Ilu, you decided to take them with you on your Ilu

“Come, take your tiny demon ship with you I would like to take you to my spirit brother! He should be migrating around here somewhere” you ushered towards their tinier boat as they all got in

Leading them with your Ilu you told them stories of you and your spirit brother, what it was like growing up, your family, your clan leaders and more

Before you knew it you where faced with the body of a Tulkun

It took you a moment but you realised it was your spirit brother

You stopped, heart stopping and breath hitching

You got down from your Ilu swan up to your Spirit brother

The 141 didn’t know this was your spirit brother but they knew something was wrong, and they knew of the Na’vis connection to the land and other animals

“I’m- we’re so sorry [name]” Soap comforted you

It only hit them when you started crying, wailing how your Spirit Brother was dead

“My Spirit Brother! The demon ship did this! They must pay with their life!” You screamed to basically yourself

The 141 exchanged looks of worry and sympathy

You didn’t even notice the big demon ship approaching until you heard yelling

“Look at that! Some blue monkey crying over a fuckin whale!”

They where speaking in Na’vi, obviously trying to provoke you

Before you could react they grabbed Gaz and pulled him up to the ship, gun to his head

“Don’t move or else we’ll shoot”

You couldn’t understand them as they where speaking in English but you knew none of it was good

You dove underwater before coming back up on your Ilu, throwing your spear at the guys head so Gaz could grab the gun

You landed on the ship and yanked your spear from the ships deck

In a blink you where shedding blood, spearing people in the head and chest, biting people, even throwing them off the ship

Price grabbed Gaz back onto the tiny boat they were on, keeping him safe

“Fuckin hell” Ghost commented to himself as they all watched you smear blood everywhere and throw people around like a dog with a chew toy

Once you were done you sat there for a moment

Breath heavy and shaking

You stood up and turned around to them, face bloody, gashes on your chest, and spear smeared with the remains of people

You dove back into the water, water now slightly red where you dove in from the blood as you swam up to your Ilu

They couldn’t help but fear you a little after that…

#cod x reader #cod #cod mw2 x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw x reader

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hushed-chorus · 6 months

Text

Hi folks! And thank you for the tags @youarenevertooold, @shrekgogurt @theearlgreymage @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @nightimedreamersworld, @wellbelesbian, and everyone who tagged me during my fandom hibernation.

It’s been a while! Lots of real life stuff going on, but it should be calmer now. Despite being busy, I've been plotting and scheming for my next long fic, a Watford canon divergence. Emphasis on *long*. I’ve filled one and a half A5 notebooks capturing and organising my ideas. I don't know why I do this to myself. It's a compulsion.

Originally I’d planned to do NaNoWriMo for both FAIAP (it’s not been abandoned, folks!) and the new Watford fic. Then I fell sick on Halloween and only started feeling better a couple of days ago. I may go for it anyway, but start (let’s say) 13th Nov and extend NaNo to 13th Dec. I reckon it’ll help kickstart the writing engine.

Today I posted the last two chapters of Blood, Salt and Hummingbirds. Here’s a little peek.

“I know that ship,” I say. “It’s the Alban! Baz, it’s a British ship!” Baz blinks uncertainly. “A British ship?” “Yeah!” I laugh. “Baz, this is perfect! She left Portsmouth just before the Magpie! Searching for Terra Australis, she was! I’d tried to join the crew, but she had a full complement of men.” Concern pulls on Baz’s lips. Desperation lurches in my chest and I grab his arm. “Baz, she’s not been to England in all that time. They won’t have heard anything about you. Besides, we’ll give them a fake name. And we don’t have to go back to England. We could go to the Americas, or Africa, or even France!” “We?” Baz looks bewildered. “Yeah! You speak French, right?” He swallows. “Yes.” “And your grandmother was Egyptian. Maybe we could go there!”

Baz lowers his head. I shake his arm. “Baz! You aren’t staying here alone. I won’t leave you. I can’t. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Hello tags below the cut!

@facewithoutheart @captain-aralias @raenestee @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @cutestkilla @ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @stitchyqueer @ileadacharmedlife @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @whogaveyoupermission @fatalfangirl @thewholelemon @onepintobean @martsonmars @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony @palimpsessed @valeffelees @j-nipper-95 @rimeswithpurple @imagineacoolusername @iamamythologicalcreature @supercutedinosaurs @alexalexinii @bookish-bogwitch @cosmicalart @bazzybelle

#six sentence sunday #snowbaz fic #simon snow fic #carry on fic

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rise-my-angel · 3 months

Note

I'm very ship and let ship but a lot of ASOIAF shippers, especially r/l shippers just come across totally tapped in the head lol. I don't deny that Lyanna went 'willingly' with Rhaegar but....that....still doesn't make their relationship a good thing? lol. Like her being 'willing' can mean different things in the context of the story and what exactly the motivations were. We literally know next to nothing about their motivations and beliefs.

If GRRM wanted to sell a uncomplicated, 'morally pure' lmao romance, he simply would not have written Rhaegar to have a wife and two children. Like, WHY do you think he made that narrative choice? It was a very, very blatant plot choice lmao. A character literally named after said wife is currently on her way with Arianne Martell to meet said wife's presumed son with Rhaegar and will play an important part in the endgame. Like, I need shippers to ask themselves WHY GRRM would make those writing choices lmao.

I also need them to ask WHY did GRRM feel the need to have Lyanna's brother, Ned, literally have to kill Arthur Dayne, Rhaegar's BFF, and two other KG's loyal only to Rhaegar in order to get to her? Doesn't that raise red flags? like hello? lmao. I also love how they make a big to-do over Lyanna holding the blue roses in her hands. The same blue roses that are described as dead and Ned, when he takes a closer look at them sees the thorns hidden underneath the petals? lmaooo. HELLO? LMAO.

Look, I think GRRM has very weird and problematic ideas when it comes to consent and underage girls in relationships with older men, so I'm not holding my breathe for any lack of romanticization here, but like come on lmao.

I will respectfully disagree on her going willingly, because I don't at all think she did.

But there is so much wrong with what happened. Lyanna was dying in a bed of her own blood. The blue roses were not romantic, they are almost acting as a smokescreen. Winter roses are something Lyanna likes, so give it to her, while we force her to lay dying in a bed of her own blood and not attempt bringing or getting her to help. It's to pretend everything is fine when in reality Lyanna is more trapped then ever and is now afraid she is going to die alone.

The shippers have given no reasonable explanation as to why she was left dying in bed of her own blood. Why if it was love, did the Kingsguard not have orders to do everything they could to save her. Why was she to be so kept hidden in that tower that not even her brother could see her when she was about to die, if she was there willingly. Why if she was willing did she desperately scream "Eddard-" that it could be heard all the way on the ground outside.

Why would her not wanting to marry Robert, make her want to run away from her brothers which she loves dearly and not even attempt to leave to go home when she learned Rhaegars father brutally murdered her father and eldest brother?

The truth is you will rarely see well constructed arguments that are consistent between these shippers, because they are all grasping at straws desperate to make all of this make sense. Either Lyanna wasn't willing and it ruins their love story narrative, or she was willing through all of this and the version of Lyanna they are defending is a sociopath.

They have painted the idea Lyanna was a willing participant so heavily in their mind that they engage in disagreeing opinions as if we are attacking them as people on a personal level.

They have the right to ship it, I have the right to analyze why I think Rhaegar raped her.

But I have been called crazy, stupid, dumb, retarded, and delusional for what I think are very well thought out constructed arguments against this ship on my own personal blog.

They have the right to ship it, but I have the right to hate them.

I will say though while yes, some of grrms ideas have not aged well, some of this was a result of the first 3 books being written in the 90s. Rape, consent, and discussions around the ages of consent were not looked at in the same scrutinizing manner they are today.

But it does mean we have to do our due diligence and look past orginal author intent and engage with the content in a more fair manner.

It's why I enjoy deconstructing the Rhaelya narrative. I like seeing past the stock excuse of it being a non conventional relationship and analyze what that means and the negative implications defending it are causing.

#game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #anti rhaegar targaryen #anti rhaegar x lyanna #anti rhaegar stans #anti targaryen #anti targ stans

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cuubism · 1 year

Text

it's a rule of classic tumblr fandom that every ship must have a designated richard siken poem and dreamling's is saying your names:

Names of spells and names of hexes, names cursed quietly under the breath, or called out loudly to fill the yard, calling you inside again, calling you home.

and

I try, I do. I try and try. A happy ending? Sure enough — Hello darling, welcome home.

and

All night I stretched my arms across him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe. Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces. Makes a cathedral, him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.

and

Your name like a song I sing to myself, your name like a box where I keep my love

and

your breath on my neck like a music that holds my hands down, kisses as they burn their way along my spine — or rain, our bodies wet, clothes clinging arm to elbow, clothes clinging nipple to groin — I’ll be right here. I’m waiting.

and

Here is my hand, my heart, my throat, my wrist. Here are the illuminated cities at the center of me, and here is the center of me, which is a lake, which is a well that we can drink from, but I can’t go through with it. I just don’t want to die anymore.

#you really have to read the whole poem through to get the full effect but tumblr is not wanting me to post it lol #dreamling #richard siken

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sakuraoora · 2 years

Text

I love you (from afar, but do you love me back?)

Ships: Kazuha x Reader

Synopsis. You've cut clean from Kazuha. At least, that's what you think. Some days, you still long for him, his love, his affection, but you'd never go back to him. Kazuha, on the other hand, is falling apart without you.

Word count. 1.8k words.

Warnings. Major Character death (reader dies), angst, mentions of a bad relationship with your parents, reader is a writer, reader has a vision + can heal, mentions of Tomo, marriage is implied, sort of a continuation of My Dear Liyue Lover,

Notes. Part two of My Dear Liyue Lover! I highly recommend reading it before this one, for the sake of context. This was ALSO written at 1 AM in the morning, so it might be... scuffed. Enjoy!

ALSO !!! HERE YOU GO @xiao-xiao-forever AND @quazkers (good luck with that juicy angst) ♡♡♡

Everything was fine.

Fine.

It had been several months since you’d officially cut clean from Kazuha, and you probably shouldn't still be thinking of him on a day to day basis. After your breakup, you kept to yourself, and haven’t even seen Kazuha since that fateful day when he was at your door.

You were visiting your parents for the first time in months. They usually were alright when someone else (namely Kazuha) was there with you, but that wasn’t possible this time. Beidou was on another trip, probably to Inazuma again, Ningguang was busy with her affairs, Xingqiu and Chongyun were somewhere in the mountains of Liyue, clensing monsters, Xiangling was busy working at her restaurant, and you’d broken up with Kazuha for good- and it didn’t even end on pleasurable terms. You weren’t sure what feelings you had for him, or him to you, anymore.

Of course the only day you could visit your parents was on a day where nobody else could be with you. Totally fine.

As you walked down the path to the village where you grew up, watching the wheat sway in the wind on either side of the road. Looking up, you saw two cranes flying in the skies above, one white and one (color). Just like you and Kazuha, only… that didn’t end well.

You finally spotted the cottage you grew up in, which was in no better condition since you had last seen it. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Hello? Mom? Dad? I’ve come home to visit you!” you called out.

After a hot second. The door opened and your mother, her hair the color you had remembered it to be, but with much more streaks of gray. “Come in, and you better make this worth our time. I don’t want you to waste our time like you wasted so much of yours as a child, doing whatever that… thing it is that you call writing.”

She led you into the abode, and the first thing you saw was a sturdy, round wood table with your father in one chair and two empty seats on either side of him. “…Hello again, (name). How are you?”

You and your mother sat down, you on his left and your mother on his right. “I’m doing good, Dad. How about you?”

Your father let out a chuckle, his white hair shaking with his head as he replied, “I’m also doing fine. Now tell me, did you finally leave that awful job you had, writing… what was it again?”

“It was short stories, Dad.” you replied, watching your mom shuffle around the kitchen, making tea.

“Right. Short stories about blood, violence, and war. So, did you?” He asked.

“I have a job at the Adventurers’ Guild now. I don’t fight monsters, but I heal and support them. I’m essentially their doctor.” Yes, you did still write on the side, but no way in hell were you going to willingly tell him you still were a writer.

“Good, good. An honorable job, right (mom’s name)?” Your father chuckled.

“Yes, very. It was such a ridiculous thought you had when you were younger, to think you could truly be a writer and make a stable income. I’m glad you finally came to your senses.” Your mother poured tea into your china cup, and you nodded in return.

“Thank you for the tea, Mom.”

“You're welcome.” she replied, and poured herself and your father their own cups of tea. “Where’s that poet-boy? He was with you the last few times you stopped by. Wasn’t he your boyfriend? Where did he go?”

“I… broke up with him.” you replied.

“Good lord, you did? He was the only man in Liyue Harbor that could’ve wanted someone as useless as you, who can’t even make a cup of tea without burning yourself.” she scoffed.

“Mom-”

“You’re useless. All you do is waste time on writing those silly stories of yours, and never academics. If you studied harder, you might’ve had a chance at going to Sumeru Academia!” she rambled, and you tried to keep the tears from coming. “I was right to limit your access to fantasy books, and rip up that one prototype draft you had.”

This can’t be happening, you thought. Your past memories welled up within you, your passion for writing, how your mother had brutally ripped it into shreds without warning.

You didn’t want to relive that.

“I’m sorry I have to go--” you said, walking to the door and getting outside before your mother grabbed your arm, her grip stronger than a snake suffocating its prey.

“Where do you think you’re going, (name)? We aren’t done talking with you.” she said, her grip somehow becoming even stronger, which would probably leave an ugly purple bruise for the next few weeks.

“I- just remembered I have a job around now.” you mumbled, your fib easily detected by your mother. But anything to get away from this house sounded nice around now.

“Family first, right (name)?” your father’s voice boomed from the doorway, scaring away the birds that were trying to steal the chicken’s food.

“They’re clearly uncomfortable, sir, with all due respect. And ma’am, your grip is making (name)’s arm turn purple.” you heard a voice call out, and the hand at your side immediately let go, your hand dropping to your side. Wait a minute… you knew who this was.

Before you could stop yourself, you called out his name. “Ka…zuha? What are you doing here?”

Kazuha smirked, his smile lighting and sinking your heart at the same time. “At your service, (name),” he said, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I was passing by when i happened to hear your sign of distress.”

“Likely story,” you said. “You almost never travel the same place twice, and you’ve been here too many times to count already.”

Kazuha took at deep sigh. “Do you want to get out of here with me or not?” he asked with a playful smirk. “Because I could always just leave you behind, you know.”

“You’re obviously avoiding the question, but lets spring.” you said, “I can’t stand staying here a second longer,” and just barely after the words left your mouth, Kazuha effortlessly picked you up, bridal style, and pushed you both up into the air.

As you looked down, you saw that your parents had long gone inside after Kazuha had shown up.

“Why?” you asked him, as he carried you through the sky. “…Why did you stop writing back to me?”

“I… didn’t mean to make it seem like I liked the Traveler…” he replied, his eyes shifting away from yours. “It was just-” he cut off, before suddenly landing you at the edge of Liyue harbor. “I have to go,” he said, before giving you one last longing look and dissapearing in a swirl of red, white and green.

Heartbroken was officially your favorite writer.

How did they capture so much emotion, akin to what you were feeling at the moment, in a single sentence?

How did they convey heartbreak because of a misunderstanding with a single line on a page?

How did they remind you so much of Kazuha?

No.

They couldn’t be Kazuha.

After all, Kazuha had left you for the Traveler.

That’s what it seemed like to you, anyways.

Did he really though? You pondered as you walked along a familiar trail, the one to the beach with several ruin guards you and Kazuha had defeated together when you were still in a relationship with him. You watched the dead parts of the ruin guards which were carelessly littered on the beach, watching how where the water met the parts, it rusted badly.

Whilst you were so focused on the water, you didn’t realize one of the ruin guards had booted up partially and blew bombs at you. Too late, you noticed the projectiles heading your way and tried to dodge unsuccessfully. You crashed against the salty sea-water, and grimaced wherever the water touched the newly opened wounds and burns on your body. It’d be useless to try to overexert myself by trying to heal myself right now… but I should at least get out of the water to somewhere safe.

You crawled forward, your whole body groaning in complaint due to how injured you were. When you finally reached a little alcove, you sighed and attempted to use your vision to heal yourself, even if it was just the slightest bit, but you couldn’t muster the strength to call upon the power of your vision. “…Kazuha…” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

The last thing you saw was Kazuha plunging down onto the ruin guard, fully dismantling it before your vision started to fade. If you had stayed conscious a moment longer, you would’ve seen a fearsome look on Kazuha’s face before it melted into panic with a (terrible, honestly) mask of calm.

Kazuha leapt over mountains, praying that he was just dreaming about the fact that your body was growing colder and colder in his arms. He refused to look down and check to see if your vision was still alive; refused to see another one of the people he was closest to fade out of life, and into death.

When will you face your responsibilities, Kazuha? The back of his mind whispered to him, and he forced himself to look down.

Your face was covered with burns and blood.

He froze. What?

Before he could plummet into the ocean below, he landed you on a beach, stumbling after spraining an ankle in the fall. He stumbled to the nearest place he could safely set you down on, which happened to be a beach where you first took him stargazing when he arrived in Liyue.

The pounding of his heart in his ears being the only thing he can hear. He desperately placed two fingers at your neck, trying to feel a pulse, any pulse, before he lowered head down to try to hear signs of breathing, but his normally sharp ears couldn’t hear anything except the pound of his own heart.

Badump.

Kazuha pried his head from your body and saw an electro vision, burning, flying towards him.

Tomo? Kazuha thought, his body convulsing, and he caught the vision out of instinct.

He looked down at what was supposed to be a burning and dying vision… to your vision, cold and limp in his hands.

“No…” Kazuha whispered, despair cracking into his voice. “No, no no no no no…”

They’re dead Kazuha, the back of his mind thought. You can never say sorry or clear up that misunderstanding now.

Kazuha held your body closer and closer, a box with a music box engagement ring jabbing into his side, but he didn’t care. He just kept holding you closer, as your blood painted the sunset a brilliant scarlet.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

I love you.

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