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#the brave valor
comradekiwi · 2 years
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all hogwarts sortings of bkdk are good and valid :)
if you don’t think they’re both gryffindor you’re wrong
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wizardnuke · 1 year
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i gave a major bad guy in my dnd character's backstory the last name "oretsev" and i've been trying to remember where on earth i heard that name and the answer is shadow and bone mal oretsev. hearing that name now has the side effect of my fight or flight vaguely going off in the section of my brain i have reserved for my little dnd guy
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viktoriamagrey · 11 months
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Hope is for the Brave
People say hope is weak; easily snuffed out. That hopeful people will become jaded; that “hopeless idealists” are a temporary state. Hope, despite its deceptively gentle nature, isn’t meant to be held like a shield, but a blade. Hope is meant to be fiercely held on to and stubbornly unsheathed like steel from its scabbard. Hope is not a fading desire; it’s the greatest tool to a fighting soul. Hope should be looked at in the places it thrives in; not the ones it fades away in. Don’t look to the hopeless dreamers that shatter like crystal when their hope turns to dust and slips through their hands, then point to hope as if hope was a broken lifeline. Do not go looking for hope in the hands of the people it doesn’t belong in. Hope belongs in the courageous, and shines in the hearts of the warriors who are strong enough to wield it. Hope is the fuel of a healthy soul; and it flourishes in the grasp of undying faith. Hope is the strength of a human who can always look to the stars, even when the darkness is clouding their eyes. Hope is for the brave.
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tvshowpilot · 9 months
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Gear up and join us as we embark on this adrenaline-fueled video countdown of the best TV shows about the special forces!
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voltaage · 10 months
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Presses my face to the glass.... rps anyone? Rps???
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karemclark · 2 years
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El Abuso A La Mujer
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No todos los hombres son malos. No todos los hombres son abusadores, violadores o barbajanes. Pero la realidad que vivimos las mujeres día a día es injusta y agotadora. Hay hombres malos y sin escrúpulos, sin educación ni moral. Eso es lo que las mujeres estamos en contra. Queremos el derecho de crecer sin perder la inocencia de que un hombre se siente con el derecho de tocarnos cuando les plazca. 
Tenía seis años cuando un hombre de 19 años me tocó inapropiadamente estando en la iglesia. Mi hermana y yo estábamos esperando a mi papá a que saliera de una junta. Estábamos nosotras solas en el pasillo, él ofreció jugar a las escondidas con nosotras. Mando a mi hermana a que contara, mientras nos escondimos. Me dijo que nos escondieron en salones que se conectaban por una cortina para despistar a mi hermana. El abrió la cortina para que me pasara al mismo salón donde estaba él y así ganaríamos el juego. Jamás imaginé que mi niñez sería arruinada ese día. No podía creer lo que estaba pasando, sentí que no era yo la que estaba en mi cuerpo. Quise que me tragara la tierra, quise gritar, quise llorar, quise pelear pero el miedo me mantuvo paralizada. Me dije a mi misma que no había pasado, que me lo había imaginado. Quise borrar esa memoria con todas mis fuerzas. Pero un rato después  cuando mi hermana nos encontró él actuó como si nada y yo tuve que sonreír tratando de asimilar lo que había pasado. Mi hermana tuvo que ir al baño, él se acercó  a mi, me susurro que no podía decir nada, por que lo que hicimos, no estaba bien, y nos meteriamos en problemas grandes. En ese momento dos cosas se habían grabado en mi cabeza como si se hubieran grabado en metal. 1. No fue una pesadilla, realmente me pasó. Y 2. Había sido mi culpa. A mi tierna edad, realmente creí que había sido mi culpa, que le había mandado señales, que de verdad de alguna manera yo lo seduje. Después de esa noche lo tenía  que ver todos domingos en la iglesia y después este hombre consiguió trabajo con mi papá. Me acosaba, me pedía estar a solas conmigo, que le diera un beso. Comencé a tener pesadillas, y aprendí a internalizar mis miedos, mi ansiedad, mi tristeza. No podía dejar que nadie supiera por qué había sido mi culpa. Las consecuencias de esta experiencia en mi vida aún siguen a flor de piel, pero jamás había tenido el valor de decirlo. 
Tristemente, esta no fue la única vez que alguien me tocó en contra de mi voluntad. Después de una fiesta familiar, los primos dormiriamos juntos. Dormí al lado de uno de mis primos, al que consideraba uno de los primos más buena onda de todos mis primos y cuando desperté en medio de la noche, me estaba tocando los pechos. Tosi como si me estuviera despertando y alejo sus manos de mi. Creí que estaba sonando hasta que sentí mis lágrimas rodar por mis mejillas y tratar de contener mi llanto. Había sido mi culpa también, no quise dormir en la orilla de la cama, y fue mi decisión dormir cerca de él, y aun así , si desidia decir algo, nadie me creería así que me calle de nuevo. 
Tiempo después alguien se metió a robar a nuestra casa. Este individuo quitó las persianas y ahí estaba mi cama, no podía entrar por ahí, así que se fue al otro lado de la ventana. Una vez que se metió a la casa sin que nadie escuchara nada y robó algunas cosas valiosas, se salió. Pero antes de irse, regreso a la ventana donde yo dormía y por fuera estaba tratando de quitarme las sábanas. Cuando abrí los ojos en medio de la oscuridad vi su figura, nunca mi su rostro, pero el sentimiento que recorrio mi cuerpo fue espeluznante. Otra vez tosí y me moví como si fuera a despertar, ya tenía práctica. Inmediatamente se detuvo y se fue. Tan pronto como la cortina cubrió mi ventana corrí con mis papás, para avisarles de lo que estaba pasando. No lo pudieron alcanzar, pero el daño ya estaba hecho. Por meses no pude dormir, cada vez que cerraba mis ojos, veía su silueta obscura, o no podía dejar de ver la ventana esperando a que regresara por mi. Tenía pesadillas constantes y por la falta de descanso no me podía mantener despierta durante el día. Todo lo guarde, sentí que si expresaba todo el temor que tenía y el dolor que me había estado guardando la gente diría que de alguna forma había sido mi culpa. Ya me había acostumbrado a que la gente me tachara de coqueta y que jamás me creerían.
Esto es sin contar con los novios y amigos y familia que se pasan de amables, o te usan y manipulan. A una no le queda ,más que pretender que está bien, y pretender que no paso o nos tratan de histéricas, exageradas o locas. “Solo es broma” , te dicen. Si no nos dejamos y actuamos como ellos quieren somos zorras, mujerzuelas y p#tas. 
También tener que soportar piropos en la calle, arrimones en el camion,  tener acoso por maestros, jefes en el trabajo, por taxistas manejando despacio masturbandose enfrente de mí mientras esperaba el autobús, o un tipo masturbandose detras de un arbol o un  tipo masturbandoce en el vestidor donde trabajaba mientras estábamos solos en la tienda para mostrarme su erección, o un tipo masturbandose con la puerta abierta de su cuarto de hotel en un viaje de la escuela. 
¿Qué les dices? ¿Qué les haces? ¿Cómo serán castigados o si serán castigados? La Gente te escuchará o solo te diran que es tu culpa por andar de loca o coqueta. O por vestirte como te vistes.  O por llevarte así con los hombres.
No, las mujeres estamos cansadas del miedo, de la impotencia, de la rabia, de la falta de respeto, de que tengamos que poner nuestras llaves  en medio de los nudillos como mecanismo de defensa cuando caminamos solas en la calle. Esto no se acabará hasta que la sociedad no deje de culpar a las mujeres. Solía sentirme avergonzada de lo que me ha pasado, solía tener miedo, pero es lo maravilloso de crecer. Ya no soy una víctima, ya no me duele ni me derrumba por lo que he pasado. Me ha vuelto más fuerte y con ganas de que todas las mujeres sepan que lo que les pasó o lo que están pasando no tiene poder sobre ellas. Ahora me he combertido al feminismo. El feminismo que pide respeto, el que protege los derechos básicos de cualquier ser humano, ese que hace que los hombres respeten tu opinión, tus sentimientos, los que te empoderan a ser más de lo que las personas o la sociedad quiere que seas. El poder que te da el valor y el compañerismo para levantar la voz contra las injusticias. Ese feminismo que te hace ver esos hombres buenos como tu compañero y no como tu enemigo. Estoy determinada a correr la voz de que las mujeres no somos un pedazo de carne que el hombre solo puede agarrar cuando le dé la gana. Quiero educar a las mujeres, jóvenes y niñas de que experiencias así, tienen que ser denunciadas, ya basta de mantener el anonimato por vergüenza a que no nos crean, a que nos digan que fue nuestra culpa. Cuando llegué a los 15 años tomé la decisión de ser  dueña de mi cuerpo y no dejar que nadie lo tocara sin permiso. Amo esa fuerza interior que tengo ahora. 
Enséñale a tus hijas que no tienen que complacer a nadie, a que luchen por lo que quieren, a que sepan que son hermosas, inteligentes, valientes, determinadas y fuertes. Enséñales a defenderse, y que si no quieren un abrazo o un beso no tiene por que darlo aunque las traten de sangronas. Que las otras mujeres no son su competencia, si no su ayuda. Prométele que le vas a creer siempre y que la vas a proteger. Enséñale a tu hija a ser buena amiga, para ayudar a otras niñas o jóvenes. Habla constantemente con ellas y preguntales si todo está bien. Hablale de casos específicos y cómo pueden escapar de una situación peligrosa. ¡Puedes encontrar algunos tips de seguridad aquí!
 Enséñale a tu hijo que las mujeres no son objetos sexuales, que no tienen derecho a tocarlas, por muy corta que su falda este, o por muy apretado que traiga el pantalón, o por el escote que traiga, que lo que ellos desean no es lo que ellas desean. Enséñales a no hablar de los cuerpos de las mujeres. Enséñale que el machismo no los hace hombres. Enséñale que si tuvo relaciones sexuales con una chica no es símbolo de ser un buen hombre si no la respeta. Enséñale a no hablar de las mujeres en ninguna forma sexual con sus amigos, eso tampoco es de hombres. Enséñales a no ver películas pornograficas y material sexual explícito. Algunos de los efectos dañinos de la pornografia son que les causa adicción, aislamiento, los vuelven violentos, distorsionan las creencias y percepción de las relaciones y sexualidad, les crea sentimientos negativos acerca de ellos mismos. Casos de violaciones han estado ligados a personas que ven pornografia constantemente. La pornografia está ligada a la trata de blancas y al tráfico humano. La clase de sociedad que quieres empieza en casa, y de las cosas que ves en televisión. Pon atención a la clase de películas y programas que dejas ver a tus hijos. Si las películas están clasificadas como R, ningún joven y menos niños deberían verlas. Explícale a tus hijos que deben respetar a las mujeres y protegerlas. Tengo dos hijos y mi meta es educarlos para que sean la clase de hombre que tiene la valentía para cuidar de las mujeres y respetarlas. Recuerdo varias ocasiones donde mi hermano mayor me defendió, fue a hablar con uno de mis maestros en la escuela que me estaba haciendo sentir incómoda, se enfrentó a un vecino que me molestaba todas las mañanas cuando salía de mi casa y por él estoy agradecida. 
Comparte y difunde este mensaje, porque ya es hora de que las mujeres levantemos la voz!!
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la9novia9del9viento · 2 years
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-🌫️A.D.S.L.
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midcarder · 2 years
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me, writing fanfic where i emotionally torture and maim a pre-existing character: haha eat shit nerd, this rules.
me, writing my own book where my character deals with Struggles: my little darling! no i hate this! i can't do this, why must the world be so cruel????
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sweet-omen · 1 year
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ouuughhh I finished writing my valorant fic last night. It’s 30k+ words. I outlined the whole thing late August. I honestly can’t believe I finished writing it holy shit If you ever want proof that your comments / kudos are appreciated by authors brother have I got good news for you. They are. Their hype about my fic was contagious to ME. the AUTHOR. Hell, some of those comments are the reason I came back to writing after an unintentional four-month hiatus. I am filled with so much appreciation. Anyway it’s cooking in my ao3 drafts for now; I’m going to give it one last look-over before posting it tomorrow. Vibrating with excitement. I’m so proud.
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mauricetheblurst · 2 months
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a knight's valor is not measured by his tutu, but any brave and courtly warrior should know how to wield one
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I've been over the moon about the response to my silly little crafts and it's inspiring me greatly
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pilot-boi · 2 months
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How specifically do Ren and Nora react when Jaune finishes his story of being the Rusted Knight?
His brother looks tired.
It’s the only thing Ren can think as he listens to Jaune and team RWBY explain what happened. The words are just washing over him, he’s listening but he’s not hearing. He can’t stop staring at his brother.
It was back in Beacon when they first called each other that, and Ren said it partially out of jest. Partially to get Jaune to leave so he could put a gods damned shirt on.
It wasn’t until he was standing next to a screaming-crying Nora and he could see the petals of his own grief swirling in the air where there once was a portal that he really realized what it meant to have a brother.
His brother looks tired.
He’s tall, and he’s confident, and he’s sure of himself, and he looks like a strong wind might bowl him over. There are white streaks in his hair, and his eyes hold an age that Ren has only seen in Oscar’s too-old eyes.
Jaune’s hands won’t stop shaking. Ren can see it, even though his brother is clearly trying to hide it. He keeps clearing his throat when he speaks, looking faintly surprised every time his own voice exits his mouth.
“-and then we were in Vacuo, and you guys found us,” Jaune finishes. His smile is the same as Ren remembers, blinding and sheepish in equal measure.
Ruby is talking about something, but Ren can’t stop staring at Jaune.
He’s never known Nora to be so quiet.
His brother is staring at him.
“Can I…” Jaune interrupts Ruby. “Can I just have some time with my team?” Ruby doesn’t even blink, just nods. The rest of her team follow her out of the room.
Then it’s just the three of them. In a silence so tense he could cut it with his father’s blade.
Jaune is just standing there. He reaches up to brush something out of his eyes, finds nothing there, and drops his hand back to his side. He doesn’t invite them to sit, he doesn’t even sit himself.
It’s like he’s forgotten how to be a person.
“I…” Jaune’s voice creaks into the silence, he trails of. He clears his throat, frowning. Tries his voice on again, like an old coat that hasn’t been worn in years. “I’m sorry I didn’t…” Shakes his head again. “I really missed you guys.”
Ren nods absently. Nora is stiff at his side, her hand as cold as the Solitas tundra in his grasp.
“Were you safe?” Ren asks.
Jaune shrugs, grinning sheepishly. “Mostly,” he concedes, and that’s probably as good as they’re going to get. Bright smile or not, Jaune seems more fragile now than even his spiral in Mistral.
“Were you happy?” And Nora’s hand tightens in his grasp.
Jaune’s eyes widen, and his hand twitches at his side. Ren wonders why he doesn’t grab his sash.
When his brother hesitates further, a shuttered look crossing his face, Ren blinks into gray scale.
Conflict, grief, confusion, joy, rage, sorrow, pain, pain, pain
“I was the Rusted Knight,” Jaune says, stiff as the armor of his title. “It didn’t matter if I was happy.” If I die buying them time it’s worth it, they’re the ones that matter.
“But were you happy??” Nora asks. Her voice is steady, calm, but her whole arm is shaking in Ren’s grip. Scars from lightning cracking across her shoulders, echoing white streaks in his brother’s hair.
Oh the way a person is marked by thinking they’re only worth what they can do for others.
Was he happier? Did he wish he was still there? Did he not want to come back? He was the hero he always wanted to be, a literal beacon of valor and bravery. He was making a difference.
Ren always preferred the Cat, personally, (and how that stings now) but the Rusted Knight was adored. In the books scrounged from drop-offs, and the storytime sessions in libraries, every kid cheered and wept for the brave and cheerful knight. You couldn’t find a better storybook role model than him.
How cruel that his brother had to crumble to dust for the character to exist.
“I was alone,” Jaune creaks eventually, voice as rusty as his armor, as if that’s enough of an answer.
And from anyone else it wouldn’t be. But from his brother, who lives and dies for the people he cares about, no sentence could be more telling.
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Guess
Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian
Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader
Rating: PG13, fluff
Word count:
Summary: A game of guessing goes right in every way for you and Din, your kind of friend, sort of boss.
A/N: Day 1 of my fic advent calendar and my first Din Djarin fic on here! Credits to my friend @lokislittlevalkyrie for co-creating the reader character and for our long conversations about her and Din. Keep checking the advent calendar Masterlist for more fics dropping this month. And leave me a little comment to encourage me to keep the fics going 💜💜💜
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“Stop scowling.”
“I’m not scowling,” he lied, trying his best to keep his tone neutral even though he was surprised that she knew he was scowling. Lucky guess, he told himself. But how many lucky guesses could one person have about his facial expressions?
“You so were!” She insisted, sinking further back into the novelty ‘chair’ she bought on their last stop. It was a sphere half filled with tiny soft particles that molded itself to the user’s shape. She slouched on it as she continued watching one of her holodramas, something with a murder or speeders (or both) at the heart of the story.
“I was not.”
“If you say so, Din Can,” she said, using her nickname for him. He chuckled reflexively, unable to control his responses to her. Thankfully, his helmet filtered the sound out, saving him the embarrassment of finding humor in the humiliating nickname. He smiled, glad she didn’t know just how many times she’d made him laugh whether by mocking him or making clever remarks in general.
“I do say so.”
She was beautiful. Taking up the creed meant hiding one’s own face from others. To hide what would serve as the basis of others’ first impression of you so that your valor and your character would serve as your defining features. Vanity was not something he was raised with. Yet he knew beauty when it stared him in the eye and called him Din Can everyday. Or Tin Djarin. Buckethead when he really pissed her off.
Dinny Bear when she was intoxicated.
Blood rushed to his cheek when he thought of the last time she did that. She’d gotten very comfortable around him in the months they’d been crew mates. All her initial jitters and jumpiness around him had gone and been replaced with her stubbornness, strange sense of humour, and a level of confidence she didn’t have with him before.
He had to chase her down to even get her to accept the job he was offering her as a travelling mechanic. He’d never heard of one before. And she was quite frightened of him after the kind of interaction they had at Peli’s shop. But he needed a mechanic on board. With the kid in his hands now, it became hard to juggle a failing ship with hunting bounties and caring for a mischievous kid who waited for the moment he took his eyes off him to cause chaos.
It helped to have a mechanic on board at all times. She was wonderful and came approved by Peli. Over time, she became more than his mechanic. A friend, he would be brave enough to say. If he were braver with women, he would say that he’s caught her sneaking glances at him. That he felt her twinkling eyes rove over his armor every now and then. Sometimes he was confident of it. At others, he convinced himself that his mind was clouded by his desire for her. By his desire for her to desire him too.
The matter of his expressions came up once again later after dinner.
“Stop looking so grumpy.”
“You cannot see my face.”
“Yeah but you look grumpy.”
He grunted, turning away from her to focus on the controls. They were on hyperspeed. There was nothing he needed to do with the controls. But to come face to face with her when she told him exactly what he did underneath his helmet was…too much.
“Heyy! Let’s play a game?” She asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.
“Play with Grogu.”
“He’s asleep. And this is not a game for little potatoes.”
He chuckled softly at the nickname and looked up at her again, awaiting her proposal. “What would that be?” He asked.
“A drinking game.”
“Drinking is a game now?”
“Dank farrik! I missed when you used to be quiet. Just listen to me. I’ll guess what your face looks like under your helmet and if I get it right, you should take a sip of your drink. And if I get it wrong, I take a sip. Let’s do it with the Silver Elixir,” she said, getting up from her seat to fetch the bottle from their liquor cabinet they kept locked to keep away from wandering little womp rats.
She returned with the bottle, two glasses and straws. They’d recently taken to drinking together. She bought him a straw a begged him to join her, using her sweet eyes and her adorable pout to convince him. She said she only had drinks with friends and that drinking alone on the razor crest made her feel lonely.
He gave in to her, just like he gave in to their little green crewmate.
She didn’t need to use a straw, of course. Yet she did. When he asked, she said it was so that he didn’t feel lonely drinking through a straw like a kid. Even in her insults, she managed to be sweet.
“Start guessing,” he said impatiently as she sat next to him and looked intently at their glasses to see if they were filled equally.
“Sure, sure… You have dark hair,” she said, passing his drink to him. “Dark brown.”
“A little too obvious, isn’t it?” He asked, knowing she had definitely seen his hair in the trash after he gave himself haircuts and shaved his facial hair.
“Drink up, old man!” She said, lips wide in a grin as she knew already that she was right.
He snorted, but followed through, taking a sip of the strong liquor. “Alright. Next.”
“You have….big green ears.”
“Wrong,” he huffed, smiling nevertheless at her sense of humour.
“Damn it! I should’ve known they wouldn’t fit inside the helmet,” she said, taking a sip. She was smiling too, and unlike his, it was out in the open and as bright as the stars around them.
“Those were two descriptors. Big and green. Take one more sip,” he argued. He didn’t particularly want to get her drunk, but he liked how adorable she was when intoxicated. One of their drinking sessions ended with her snuggling up to him because she couldn’t find the kid to snuggle like a children’s stuffed animal.
“What? No! It was one guess, so it’s one sip.”
“Again, you guessed the size and color of my ears and they were both wrong. Take a sip.”
She rolled her eyes, but complained, taking another sip. She leaned close and narrowed her eyes at him, as though focusing on his helmet would reveal what was underneath. He smiled unconsciously, taking in the beauty of her from up close. The light in her eyes, the way her eyebrows knit together when she was in deep thought, lips that impressed him with the wittiest remarks… Lips he wanted desperately to pull to his, to devour and make moan his name.
“No moustache.”
“Hmmm….” He hummed, thinking of how he could sort the point for this. He *did* have a moustache, but that was only now. There were times when he shaved it off completely. “It’s complicated. I have a moustache now, but I change it quite frequently. So, half a sip.”
“If I have to take half a sip, so should you.”
“No, I don’t,” he scoffed at her warped logic. Here he was, being nice and giving her some credit even though she was wrong. But she was trying to take advantage of it.
“Yeah you should. If I’m taking half a sip because I was half right and half wrong, you should also take a sip because you’re half right and half wrong.”
“No. That’s not how it works. I have facial hair now, which means you are wrong. I should’ve made you take a full sip, but I decided to make a concession because I am sometimes fully shaven.”
“Dank Farrik! You’re such a lightweight. Just say you can’t handle your liquor and I’ll let you go,” she taunted, a smirk plying at her lips.
“Oh please, I can handle my liquor much better than you can. Here,” he said, drinking the strong undiluted alcohol like it was water in a few big sips. He slammed the glass against the control panel surface and shrugged. “See, I’m good. You are the one who gets drunk after one portion of the Silver Elixir and terrorizes the kid.”
She gasped, as though he made a much bigger accusation. “I don’t terrorize the kid! I just give him extra cuddles and kisses. He enjoys them very much. It’s called affection, Tin Can. Ever heard of it?”
He tilted his head at her in the way that sometimes made her swallow audibly. “So you think that because of my way of life, I have never experienced affection?”
She opened and closed her mouth quickly, as though her mind and lips were in disagreement about whether or not what they were about to say was appropriate. He smiled under his helmet, proud of himself for stumping her. She talked a lot. Since he was a quiet man, everyone else was talkative in comparison. But she was the voice he heard the most as they lived together on the Razor Crest and their other occupant communicated mostly in coos and squeals.
“That’s not what I meant!”
“Say what. Since the drinking thing was already disproportionate anyway because I’m not guessing your features and I can handle my liquor much better than you do….lets change the rules.” He took a deep breath, afraid of the consequences of his words but unable to miss this opportunity. “For each correct guess you make, I’ll give you a kiss.”
“You’re kidding,” she said, scoffing.
“I’m not known for my humor.”
She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. Kriff, the things she did without even knowing! He thought he could die from the anticipation of hearing her next guess. Would she guess something ridiculous like big green ears to make sure she doesn’t have to kiss him? Or would she make a very obviously correct guess?
“You have…” she trailed in a softer voice, looking at him almost coyly. “…pink lips.”
Not the most obvious guess. Not all humans had pink lips. And he could easily not be human. He didn’t remember telling her he was… But if she was going for something for a higher likelihood of being correct… Kriff he hoped she was. “Do you want me to turn the lights off or blindfold you?” He asked, conveying indirectly that she was right.
“Wh-whaaat? Why?” She sputtered, looking at him with those pretty eyes, vulnerability brimming in her expressions.
Did he get the wrong idea? Maybe her obvious guesses weren’t because she wanted to be right so she could kiss him… Maybe it was just the product of her usual playful nature.
“Because I will have to take my helmet off when I kiss you,” he proceeded to say, even as his heart beat faster with the anxiety of how this could go. They were adults. It it was a misunderstanding, he would simply get over it and do his best to not make it awkward between them. “And you cannot see me.”
“I…” she trailed off before letting out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think you were serious.”
“Again. Not known for my humor,” he said, letting a smile seep into his words. She was so kriffing adorable, looking all nervous like a blurrg stuck in a doorway. “You don’t have to, of course. I can give you something else. Ten credits, perhaps?”
“What, no. A deal is a deal.”
“Then tell me, my dear mechanic. Lights out or blindfold?”
“Lights out.”
Pity. He was hoping to see her pretty face when he kissed her. Not moving from where he was, he pressed the buttons on the control panel, turning all the lights out. In the pitch black of outer space, he could see nothing. Perfect.
“What can you see?” He asked, just to be sure.
“Nothing,” she said, in her voice so low and soft that it was swallowed up by the darkness. What entity wouldn’t want to swallow up something his pretty mechanic put out? Every word she said, every touch of her fingers against the trees and rocks and flowers. If he were air, he would luxuriate in her scent. If he were water, he would caress her skin and play with her hair as he cleansed her. If he were fire, he would creep into her skin, warm her up when she needed. But he was nothing but man. So, he would have to satisfy himself with a kiss from her lips.
“Are you sure?” She asked as he stepped forward to her.
“I am. Are *you* sure?”
There was silent for a moment before she said, “Yes. Kiss me.”
Needing nothing else, he took his helmet off and placed it carefully on his seat. His heart thudded against his ribs, and his breaths grew labored. And he hadn’t even touched her yet.
In all his years, he had never kissed anyone. It was not part of the culture of his people what with the metal barriers that kept them from it. He remembered the sweet kisses on his forehead and cheeks from before he took the creed. But that was not what his heart desired. He wanted the kind of thing she watched on her holopad, all the holodramas with characters who showed their desire through an intense kiss that left their partner speechless.
He reached forward and found her hand. She gasped softly, the quietness of the ship letting him in on her soft sounds. He caressed up her arm, enjoying the slight tremble of her skin beneath the tips of his fingers. He stopped at her neck and allowed himself to cradle it in his hand. He felt her lean closer and he reciprocated, taking the final step. He tilted his head to his right feeling that she tilted to her right.
As he closed the gap between them, he felt her warm breath on his skin. He swallowed, his lips parting from how nervous he was. What if he was no good? What if he didn’t have good breath? What if he’s such a bad kisser that she— he gasped softly as she pressed her lips against his. In an instant, she quietened the sounds his head. The fast beating of his heart, he realized was now from the effect of proximity to her more than his insecurities.
She placed one hand on his shoulder and wrapped her other arm around his waist. He let out a shaky breath at the intimacy of their contact and let his other hand trail down her back. She pressed herself closer against his beskar clad chest, making him wish he had the forethought to toss that bit of his armor too. He wanted to feel her. Every bit of her that she was offering up to him like she truly believed he was deserving.
Her lips were soft, just as he’d dreamt them to be. He’d never kissed before. It was an act saved for married couples in the covert, as only your spouse could see you with your helmet off. He had married friends who waxed poetry about the magic of kissing. How they felt like nothing and nobody mattered other than your partner. How it turned you into putty in their hands. He thought it was exaggerated… Until now.
He cupped her cheek, her face fitting in his hand and making him feel a new sense of protectiveness towards her. He’d protected her before, sure, but this felt different. This was something to do with a need to be gentle with her. To cherish her and treasure her. She licked his lips and he parted them instinctively, letting her tongue between his lips. He shuddered as her fingers threaded through his hair. He whimpered and pulled her closer to himself in the moment of vulnerability, using her as a crutch to support him. He’d never been touched like that before…
Her fingers explored his hair and he allowed himself to relax in his arms, even letting himself give her comforting caresses of her back. He felt her melt into his arms as their kiss deepened. She tasted of the silver elixir first, but when they were both a little along the way, he began to taste something that was distinctly her. Something sweet, mixing with the fragrance of her citrusy perfume to further dull his senses.
It was soft, but electrifying. He poured his passions into the kiss, exploring her with his tongue and luxuriating in the sweet little whimpers she let out. The technicalities stopped mattering. He was here, holding the girl he’d been pining for, lips connected as the unlikely result of a stupid game. That moment was all that mattered and her sounds of satisfaction told him that he wasn’t doing so bad after all.
She pulled back in a while and they let out the breaths they’d be holding. She let out a laugh and he smiled, comforted by her job. He didn’t even know he’d been holding his breath. He’d forgetting the necessity for breathing as he found her lips.
“You have…a big nose,” she said, confusing him.
“Huh?” He asked, his mind still clouded from her kiss.
“I get another kiss if I’m right, Dim Djarin,” she teased, pointing to his obliviousness when it came to things of this nature.
“Right,” he said, grinning as he kissed her again. He needed to play games with her more often.
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auras-moonstone · 4 months
Note
Holaaa me emocione bastante con saber q eres de argentina (yo no soy de argentina soy de Mexico) pero esta cool saber q también hablas español lol
llevo rato leyendo tus trabajos y me encanta como escribeees, no se que te parezca la idea de una historia de Ethan como Spiderman tbh es mi head canon favorito y no hay mucha gente que lo escriba ahí una idea no se si sigas aceptando requests o si ya habías escrito algo de Ethan como Spiderman pero me encantaría leer algo así escrito por ti obvi 🤭
(En ingles ofc!)
Perdooon si escribí bastante me emocione jajaja apenas agarre el valor Para dejar un request
hola 🇲🇽 ! perdón por haber tardado tanto en escribir esta request😫 me encantó la idea, hace bastante que quería escribir algo sobre ethan como spiderman <3 espero que te guste❤️🫶🏻
the story of us — ethan landry
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word count: 2,693
pairing: spider-man!ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: ethan and y/n’s relationship might be ending soon because of the boy’s behaviour and secrets.
based on: the story of us by taylor swift
warnings: mention of blood. a bit of angst.
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Y/N SHOULDN’T FEEL SURPRISED FOR HAVING BEEN STOOD UP BY ETHAN, it seemed to be his favourite hobby lately. But when he came up to her with regretful puppy eyes asking for them to meet so he could explain the reason behind his behaviour, she really thought he would keep his word and show up to fix things.
But once again he failed her, and now Y/N was walking back home alone with mascara running down her face and with her chest filled with disappointment and sadness.
Y/N was walking through the dark and unsafe NYC streets, wondering what excuse her boyfriend was going to use this time, when she heard a whimper coming from the creepy unlit alley she was passing by. Her whole body tightened with fear, hands instantly became sweaty, her heart thundered dangerously fast and yet she stopped walking. Then the noise came again, this time more clear—it was a pained curse from a male voice.
The girl couldn’t decide if she was stupid or too brave, but she walked towards the person. Her eyes widened at the scene—there, sitting next to a container, was Spiderman; a bleeding Spiderman.
“Holy hell, are you okay?” she cried, inspecting the wound. “Of course you’re not okay! You’re bleeding a lot! A lot!”
Ethan cursed internally. Of all the people who could have found him, it had to be her. “Thanks for the calming words.” the superhero said between gritted teeth.
“Sorry! I shouldn’t have said that. I was exaggerating, it’s not that bad.” Y/N tried to convince him.
“You’re a horrible liar” his hands were shaking as he tried to put pressure on the wound.
“Okay, let’s get you out of here, the smell is awful.” the girl said, putting one of his—very strong and muscled—arms around her shoulders. “I know you’re in pain, but I need you to use a bit of your strength to help me lift you to your feet. Can you do that?” the masked figure nodded. “Okay, at the count of three.”
Ethan closed his eyes in pain as he let out a cry of agony. He had been walking towards the cafe where Y/N worked when he heard screaming. An old woman and her granddaughter were being robbed and it was his duty to save them. He would’ve made it to his date with Y/N if the thief’s partner hadn’t caught him off guard and sliced his stomach. Time didn’t matter anymore, he couldn’t show up wounded, and he didn’t have the energy to walk so he stayed in that creepy alley where Y/N found him.
“Ouch!” he yelled when the girl carelessly dropped him on her couch as soon as they arrived to her apartment.
“Sorry!” Y/N said guiltily. “My arms hurt.”
“It’s okay. Thank you, I just need to rest here for a few minutes and I’ll be out of your sight.” he panted.
“You can’t leave! I need to clean you up and then you need to eat something.”
“No, it’s okay. Look, just lend me a first-aid kit, I’ll do it myself. Then I’m leaving.” it wasn’t that Ethan was ungrateful for her help, he just didn’t want to be a burden. Also, if she was to see his body, she was going to recognize him instantly. And Ethan was not going to let that happen.
“Hey, you’re always saving our asses, it’s time someone finally takes care of you.” she smiled softly.
“I really appreciate that, seriously. But I’d be more comfortable doing it myself, if you don’t mind.”
“As you wish.” she said in understanding. And as he stitched himself up, Y/N went to the kitchen to prepare something for him to eat.
Ethan watched her from the doorframe. He wanted to close the space so badly, he wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and never let go. They saw each other everyday, but it’s been days since the last time he got to hold her, kiss her, touch her.
Y/N was really pissed at him, and with good reason. Countless were the times he had stood her up and he slowly—and absentmindedly—started to distance himself from her. And a few days ago, Y/N just exploded and they started fighting. Instead of telling her the truth (that he was a superhero and that the NYC streets were more dangerous than he had thought) he told her she was being dramatic and that he needed a bit of space. He regretted it instantly, and wanted to throw up as soon as his eyes caught her hurt expression. He was trying to keep her safe, but he handed everything in the worst way possible and ended up wounding the person that meant the most to him.
“You cooked for me?” he spoke up. Even though she couldn’t see it, she felt the smile on his voice.
“I told you, it’s time someone takes care of you.” she answered. “Is the wound okay? Does it hurt?”
“I’m fine. I’m a big tough boy.” he said in a teasing voice when she finished. “Thank you, Y/N. You saved me.”
“Anytime, Spider-boy. And honestly, you shouldn’t even thank me, you risk your life for us every- wait a minute.” she stopped when she realised something. “How do you know my name?”
Fuck, he cursed internally. He had messed up. “You told me.” he tried to sound confident.
“No, I didn’t. Do we know each other? Do we go to the same college?” Y/N asked curiously.
“I need to go.” he stood up abruptly, and a whimper of pain left his mouth.
“No! I’m sorry, I won’t press the subject.” she said, grabbing his forearms to sit him back on the chair. “I respect you wanting to keep your identity hidden. I won’t ask any more questions, but please stay. You’re still weak, you need to eat something.”
“You already did a lot. Really.”
“I swear to god, stop being stubborn.”
Who was he kidding with the hesitation? Just one look at her doe eyes and he was on his knees. As he ate, Y/N had her back to him so he could take his mask off. She could have turned around at any time and discover that the friendly neighbour hero was her boyfriend, but she never did. She respected his wish of not wanting to show his face, and that made him love her ever more.
“Your omelette was great” he said as he put the plate on the dishwasher. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“Why were you crying?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. Ethan and Y/N weren’t on speaking terms, so maybe by talking to her through his secret identity would give him an insight on how to fix the relationship he tore up.
The sad girl frowned and pressed her lips into a line. She didn’t talk to her friends much about Ethan because she didn’t want to put them in an uncomfortable position, as they were all friends, so she had been keeping her frustrations bottled up. And now there was this trustful kind stranger asking her about it, so she gave in.
“My boyfriend didn’t show up to our date. He has been acting so strange lately. He shows up late, he always has a different excuse and gets all nervous and defensive because he’s obviously lying, but most times he doesn’t even show up. Like today.” the exhaustion and defeat was evident on her tone and it broke his heart. “He was supposed to meet me today, so he could open up and tell me what’s going on in his life, but…”
“He let you down again.” he added in a sad tone. Y/N nodded, tears blurring her eyes. “What are you going to do?”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath “I honestly don’t know. I love him, I really do, but our relationship has become one-sided. I’m trying to save it, but it seems like he doesn’t care anymore.”
Fear crept into his mind. Was that it? Was it their end? Was she going to break up with him the next day? He wouldn’t blame her. Yet, he couldn’t help being selfish—he did not want them to break up.
“Maybe there is something going on in his life… something that he can’t tell you for your own good.” he said, and he knew he sounded stupid.
“What could be so bad that he can’t talk to me about it? We have always been honest with each other. He knows he can tell me anything, he knows that he’ll have my support no matter what. I just want him to talk to me. I don’t know what happened with our relationship, but there’s nothing I can do unless he talks to me.”
“Things are going to get better.” the superhero said, rubbing her arm in a comforting gesture.
Ethan had multiple opportunities to be honest with her, to explain why he had become so distant and yet he held his pride and told her she was exaggerating the whole situation. So, as much as she tried to be positive and believe Spider-man’s words, she was scared the story of them might be ending soon.
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ETHAN REACHED THE TABLE WHERE THE GROUP WAS SITTING AT and eyed the two empty spots left. One was next to Chad, who was talking animatedly with Tara and Mindy, and the other one was beside Y/N. His spot had always been the one next to hers, but with their current complications and not knowing exactly in which page they were at, he didn’t know what to do. Seeing the way she was nervously pulling at her clothes and tried to look busy, he ended up choosing the first option.
Even though she was trying hard to avoid looking at him, his presence was overwhelming and it took all of her strength to hold back from peaking a glance at his gorgeous smile and perfect curls. She was dying to know if the situation was killing him as much as it was killing her.
Little did she know the boy was losing his mind. The anguish was too much, so many thoughts were running through his mind. He was dying to let her know what was going on, but he was scared it was going to put her in danger. He would rather have her be angry at him than her getting hurt because of him. The wiser thing would be to let her go, to free her from the chaos that came with being involved with a superhero, but he the selfish part of him couldn’t break things up—Ethan loved her too much to give her up.
He needed to come up with a decision. This contest of who could act like they cared less needed to end and he could not tolerate the loud silence between them anymore. “Do you think we could talk tonight?”
“If you have the decency to show up.” she shrugged.
Her armour was up, and it was understandable. “I will. I’ll meet you at your apartment after Econ?”
“Okay.” Y/N nodded. “I’m serious, Ethan. Show up. This is your last chance.”
“I won’t let you down again, Y/N/N. I promise.”
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ETHAN DIDN'T KNOW IF THE AREA WHERE Y/N WORKED IN WAS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS OR IF HE JUST HAD BAD LUCK, but every time he was near, something happened that forced him to step in. Thankfully, this time it was an inexperienced thief he easily managed to bring down but his wound wasn't fully healed yet so he was in a bit of pain after the fight. But the important thing was that he made it to Y/N's house.
The girl was unable to hide her relief when she opened the door, but it soon turned into worry. "Ethan, what the hell happened? You're bleeding!"
The curly-haired boy looked down to find a scarlet stain on his blue polo shirt. The wound on his abdomen must have opened while he was stopping the thief, and he didn't even noticed because of the adrenaline. "Um, it's nothing, I-"
"Sit down." she ordered right before leaving to grab the first-aid kit. When she lifted his shirt up, she frowned.
"What is it?" Ethan asked worriedly.
"Ethan, when did this happen?"
"Um, I was robbed while making my way here." the lie slipped off his tongue in an instant.
"You keep lying to me." she let out a humourless laugh. "This has been stitched before, Ethan."
He sighed, thinking of another excuse. "Okay, fine. It's not new. I fell and landed on something sharp, and it cut my stomach."
"Okay, now I'm not only angry because you lied to me twice in the past sixty seconds, but also because you think I'm stupid."
"I don't think you're stupid."
"If you believe I'd buy that shitty excuse, then yes, I think you think I'm stupid." she spat. "Tell me the truth. Right now, Ethan."
Silence embraced the room. As Y/N worked on the wound, Ethan tried to find the words to explain. "I don't know where to start."
"Let's start by telling me how did you get this."
"A thief did it to me." he said, and ignoring his girlfriend's warning glance, he continued, "but he wasn't robbing me. He was stealing from an old woman and I stepped in. He cut me while I was distracted."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as they scrutinised his face, trying to spot any sign that told her he was lying. She find none. "You fought them?" she asked in disbelief, and Ethan nodded. "That's... that's really brave. And stupid."
"It's my job." he blurted out, making her look at him in confusion. "Well, it's not a job job, because I don't get paid. Not that I'd do it for money, even though I need it-"
"Eth!" she interrupted him. "I love it when you ramble, you're adorable, but could you please explain?"
"I missed you calling me Eth." he whispered, caressing her right cheek. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too, Eth. But we need to talk. Well, you need to talk. What is going on with you? Why are you so distant? Why do you keep missing our dates? What did you mean by 'It's my job'?"
"I'll tell you, but I need to warn you first. You were in danger before knowing this, but after I tell you... you are going to be an even bigger target. And you can't tell anyone, okay? No one knows, and no one has to know."
"Okay, just spit it out, Ethan."
"I'm Spider-man."
It was as if their surroundings had frozen, and minutes felt like hours. Y/N sat on the couch, dumbfounded, and Ethan's leg bounced as he bit his nails.
Meanwhile, Y/N's brain worked at a fast pace, trying to connect the dots. Now, in hindsight, everything made sense. His bruises, his wounds, why he was always in high alert, why his walls were up, his grades dropping, his tardiness... he became the friendly neighborhood spiderman. The vigilante she had found bleeding the previous night.
"Hey! You used your secret identity to get information out of me, asshole!"
"That's all you have to say?!"
"I mean, no... but I don't really know what to say."
"You're not mad?"
"I don't think so. I really wish you would've told me, could've saved up lots of arguments, but I do understand why you didn't tell me. I'm glad you opened up, tho. I am really tired of missing you and not kissing you."
Ethan laughed. “I love you. I missed you like crazy, and I'm sorry for everything.” he hold her close to his chest and let himself relax for the first time in weeks. “By the way, you need to quit that job. I swear there’s a robbery every five fucking minutes.”
“Have you been following me?” she arched her eyebrow.
“Keeping an eye on you.” he corrected. “I can’t let anything happen to my girl, and like I said, it’s a dangerous area.”
Y/N laughed and kissed his lips tenderly “I love you, my little stalker. Don’t keep secrets from me ever again.”
“Never. I promise. We’re a team.”
242 notes · View notes
theromanticegoist · 1 year
Note
Can I request Aemond entering a tourney to win a lady’s hand?
counter tilt
aemond targaryen x reader
Aemond Targaryen doesn’t give a shit about tourneys.
Though once he might’ve dreamt of victory and valor, all at the end of a splintered lance, those dreams had long since been wrung out of him, fallen apart and away after that fated night on Driftmark. No longer did he desperately vie for his fathers approval, his nephews envy, his brothers respect. He had lost an eye and he had gained a dragon and no one could ever again doubt him. No, Aemond Targaryen doesn’t give a shit about tourneys -
Her, though -
She had come to court to serve as Helaena’s handmaiden shortly after her marriage to Aegon. Had come as swiftly and suddenly as a summer storm, blown with bruise-black clouds and sickly sweet petrichor into his sister’s solar one morning.
She’d been seated besides Helaena on a settee beside the window, their heads bowed together and hair murmuring softly in the breeze.
“Sister,” Aemond said, quietly, and they had both glanced quickly up -
Her beauty had struck him as a quiver might - lodged firmly, foreverafter, in his heart.
“My lady.” He inclined his head,slightly, and keenly observed the fever-flush that had stained her cheeks at the words.
“My Prince.” She met his eye, had not looked away, and Aemond felt longing beat in him like a second heart.
He was not so foolish as to think that she could ever want him, of course. He’d thoroughly dissuaded himself of such a notion before he’d even left the room - had reminded himself again and again of his eye, his scar, of the dark rumors that fell like a shadow behind him. No, she would never want him. But it did not stop him from wanting quietly after her.
He began regularly breaking his fasts with Helaena, just to steal glances at her from across the table, to listen to her quiet laughter drift up and away into the morning air. He lingered in the courtyard or the gods wood, pleased and somewhat perplexed whenever she would murmur soft pleasantries to him, pulse wild whenever she ventured to say his name.
She was lovely and kind and everything Aemond knew himself devoid of being.
And when he’d overheard her conversation with another one of his sisters ladies - “I think him rather brave, and daring,” she’d said, words slightly obfuscated by the cool stone pillar that Aemond lingered behind - he’d become resolute.
Her affection laid with another. A man who was brave and daring, who Aemond was sure was in possession of both his eyes and with no blackened heart, but maybe, maybe -
A tourney had been announced within a turn of the moon, to celebrate the awaited birth of Aegon and Helaena’s third child.
Aemond had added his name to the lists.
And the morning of the games, amid raucous cheers and trumpets blaring, he’d driven his horse towards the box where his sister sat, with her beside.
She was lovely in the mid-summer light, a flush once again painting her cheeks as he addressed her, heart a mad, hopeful thing in his chest.
“My lady,” he said, extending his lance. “I’d hoped to be granted your favor, so that I might win these games.”
She smiled, then, as he’d never seen her before, standing quickly and stepping close. “I wish you luck, my Prince,” she said, the woven circle that she’d adorned with flowers fluttering down the the base of his spear. “You’re always granted with my favor.”
He paused, at that, the words stirring something akin to rapture within him.
He turned his horse away quickly, pulse overwhelming in his ears.
He turned his horse away, and did not see nor hear her lean over to the lady beside her, smile small and pleased. “I told you,” she said. “He’s daring, and brave, and moreover he’s sure to win the tourney today.”
The lady looked betwixt her and the retreating prince, visor of his helm lowered as he prepared to lower his lance and start against the man at the opposite end of the field.
“I think,” the lady whispered, “that he might have hoped to win your hand, instead.”
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Text
What Colour? (Kelly Severide x Reader)
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Synopsis: You disobey Kelly’s orders on a call, and he makes sure it’s your last time doing so.
Word Count: 5.6k
WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Angst, smut, dominant and submissive, P in V, oral (male receiving), choking, overstimulation, edging, squirting, use of the word ‘slut’, daddy kink, lieutenant kink, use of a sex toy (vibrator), unprotected sex (wrap your willy, don’t be silly!!!), pure filth and shitty writing. 
My Masterlist
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“You know what your problem is? You can’t follow orders!” Kelly huffed out, walking into your shared bedroom and ripping his squad jacket off in the process. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed” he spat angrily.
He was upset; there was no doubt about it. And could you really blame him? The man has lost more loved ones than most people would in one lifetime. His overprotectiveness and frustration at what he viewed as blatant ignorance was a direct result of the grief buried beneath him.
You sauntered into the room behind him, ready to defend yourself to no end. “Oh, so when you don’t follow orders, you’re brave and heroic, but when I don’t follow orders I’m just an idiot who’s risking their life?!” You sarcastically reasoned with your boyfriend, upset that this was even a conversation the two of you were having.
“I didn’t say that” he grunted with gritted teeth, sitting on the edge of the bed as he removed his shoes. “Is it become I’m a woman, Kel? Hm?” you asked, slightly taunting him with your hands crossed over your chest. You walked right up to him, attempting to tower over him but failing given he was bigger than you even when he was sitting down.
“Is it because I might land myself in a situation you don’t think I have the ability or strength to get out of? Do you not trust me?” You stared at him with a questioning look, waiting for his rebuttal. Severide had a tendency to go for naturally submissive women - not that there was anything wrong with that - but you personally think this is why he lucked out with you; someone has to give him the same energy back, at least outside of the bedroom.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You being a woman has NOTHING to do with this.” He stood up to steal the height advantage, and he peered down to look into your eyes, wondering to himself what he was gonna do with you. You, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch by his sudden movement.
“Then what does it have to do with, Kelly? Because I know damn well if you had had the opportunity to go back into that house, you would’ve. So cut the bullshit” you retorted, sick of having to defend yourself to someone a thousand times more reckless than you’ll ever be.
“Maybe I would’ve gone back in, you’re right, but I have the experience that you clearly lack since you think running into a flashover will get you a valor medal rather than a cemetery plot!” He scoffed out. He didn’t understand how you couldn’t see how dangerous your actions were, how you didn’t seem to have an ounce of regret for risking your life.
“Well you’re my lieutenant, aren’t you? I was simply modelling what I’ve observed from your leadership” You said, landing your index finger right into his muscular sternum, but he didn’t move a muscle.
When you said ‘lieutenant’, you attempted to say it without faltering, a hint of seduction evident. What better way to relieve the work day’s stress - and the tension from fighting - than with even more exertion?
“You said it yourself. I’m your lieutenant. I ordered you not to go back in, and you disobeyed me!” He shouted back, flailing his arms out to the side for emphasis and dramatic effect. He clearly was NOT picking up on the hint that you were done with this conversation, ready to move onto less verbal activities.
“How about I make it up to you? Show you that I can listen to your orders…” You looked up at him with those irresistible doe eyes of yours, simultaneously twirling of strand of hair between your fingers. If the sexual tension from the arguing wasn’t solidified before, it sure as hell was now.
“C’mon, don’t wiggle your way out of this by pulling that shit. I won’t hesitate to take you off duty for a mandatory psych eval since clearly you have a death wish.” Sputtering his threat with sarcasm, he rolled his eyes, fighting the urge deep within him to pick you up and toss you onto the bed like a rag doll.
Putting one of your hands on his chest, you brainstormed a way to escalate this into your desired outcome. “Can my punishment be anything but a visit to the shrink’s office? I promise I’ll be good for you.” You tilted to your head to the side, anticipating his response. “Hm, sir?”
You KNOW he can’t resist when you stroke his ego by reminding him who’s in charge, even considering your disobeying of orders earlier that day. What better way to evoke the dominant side of him that you loved so much?
You knew you were putting him - and his dick - through the five stages of grief, because you saw a sudden change in his eyes and before you knew it, he was smashing his lips onto yours.
The force with which he grabbed your face startled you, but you quickly adjusted, kissing back with excitement that your master plan - which you thought about and subsequently executed 3 minutes ago - was being initiated.
You urged him to sit back down on the bed by pushing your body up against him and climbing on top of him as soon as you had the chance- your lips not once removing from his. You rubbed up on him like an unaltered cat in heat as if it would take off the layers that separated you from his already hard cock.
Your lips were devouring each other’s, the sense of urgency and desperation evident. He sucked in your bottom lips with his teeth, and then spit into your mouth as he let go of his sharp pull.
Pulling your face away from his with urgency, he gazed at you intently. It was as if you could see the metaphorical gears in his head grinding as he thought of a way to assert his dominance over you.
“On your knees” he uttered as he removed both of his hands from your face. You were taken aback. After all, you were the one hinting at your desire to get down and dirty, and you just weren’t expecting Kelly to give up on his lecturing so quickly.  But this was your plan all along- get him distracted enough that he would forget about the stunt you pulled on shift (or, at the very least, postpone the reprimanding to a later date).
“I’m not going to ask you again” he spat out, angry that you weren’t immediately obeying. You looked down at him, noticing his pupils had swallowed his iris’ whole; his eyes gleaming with lust and dominance. Removing your legs from around his waist, you lowered yourself down until your kneecaps were on the rug, your body in between his legs, and your face perfectly centred with his bulge.
He motioned towards his belt buckle with his head, a hint of annoyance that you didn’t automatically begin releasing him. You reached up, pulling the length of his belt from under the clasp and removing it from the notch. Sliding it out from under his belt loops, you were about to toss it next to you when Kelly motioned for you to give it to him.
You could already feel the moisture between your legs, and being face to face with Kelly’s manhood only increased your libido. You unbuttoned his work pants, dragged the zipper down, and reached within his underwear.
His cock was NOT hard to find by any means- you took it out and observed it with admiration, the pre-cum very pronounced on his red, bulbous tip.
Kelly had a very nice penis, and I think half of the women in Chicago could vouch for him. Not only did he have a cock with the perfect ratio of girth to length, but he sure as fuck knew how to use it.
Taking the tip of your tongue, you ran it along his head, collecting the white, slippery substance already beginning to ooze out. Goosebumps spread along every inch of his body; he was the one in control, but you always knew how to make him shiver.
Starting at the very base of his shaft and licking all the way up, you didn’t hesitate to take your time with him, the pure enjoyment of providing him with pleasure the motivation behind your performance. Once you made it to the top, you encircled his head with your tongue over and over, making him fling his head back.
After he recovered from your teasing, he decided to take matters into his own hands by grabbing the base of your scalp, urging your throat to engulf his entire length. “Take me like the little slut you are” he whispered dominantly, the hand on the back of your head guiding you up and down periodically, the other placed behind him for support.
When you had reached the very bottom of his shaft, the tip of his dick most definitely touching your tonsils, he pushed you down even further, urging you to choke on him. “Look at me. I want to see how beautiful you look taking all of me in your mouth” he commanded. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, and he couldn’t help but smirk, a smile fighting through the corners of his lips begging to be unleashed.
He looooved to see you take him, and once you had made eye contact as you were told, he was practically using every fibre of his being to prevent himself from sending his load down your throat. The heavenly combination of your gurgling noises as you choked on him with teary eyes caused him to release his hand from your head.
You suctioned his dick as you sucked up his shaft, letting go of him with a pop. A string of saliva connected your lips to his length, and he wanted to capture this moment for the rest of eternity.
You giggled as you observed the look on his face, and it only encouraged you to continue. However, as you were about to get back to pleasuring him, he stopped you by grabbing his dick before you could.
“Nuh-uh. Strip.” He ordered.
This time, you didn’t hesitate to obey his command, your clothes making you feel trapped. You always felt completely comfortable with and around Kelly, and it translated to the bedroom when you were in a naked, vulnerable state.
Grateful that you had showered at the end of shift, you started with your grey squad 3 t-shirt, crossing your arms to grab the bottom of either side of it. Peeling it over your head, you tossed it aside, revealing the grey Calvin Klein sports bra confining your chest.
You removed your leggings, and noticed that you happened to be wearing the matching underwear of the set.
Kelly didn’t take his eyes off of you as you undressed below him, and knowing he was watching your every move as you exposed more and more of yourself made your cheeks turn a crimson red.
You stopped when you were in solely your bra and underwear, expecting him to give you your next command, but he seemed annoyed rather than satisfied.
“I said strip, didn’t I?” he spat through gritted teeth, expecting you to be fully naked for him and wondering how you didn’t catch that the first time he asked you.
You were starting to get into your head, feeling vulnerable about the thought of being completely naked in front of him while he was fully clothed. However, you knew what you had suggested to him in exchange for his scolding to come to an end, and you wanted to follow through.
Turning your mind off, you immediately began removing your undergarments, your horniness beginning to overpower any insecurities you could’ve had about being bare.
As soon as you were fully exposed, you looked up at Kelly as if to tell him you were ready for what was next. His cock jolted, hardening as he looked you up and down, running his tongue along his lips without even realizing.
“C’mere” he muttered, patting the spot next to him. You stood up and you could just feel the wetness between your legs, knowing your slick was about to start dripping down.
Being at times uncomfortable with the amount of lubrication your vagina produced, Kelly always assured you that seeing you so wet filled him with the biggest sense of pride. Knowing he could physiologically alter the state of your body in a way that essentially prepared you to take him made him lose it.
You sat next to him and he once again grabbed your face, kissing you with such passion and force that he was smushing your cheeks together. You kissed him back with the same energy he was giving you; it was as if the rougher you moved your lips against one another, the more pent up sexual energy would be released.
One of his rough, calloused hands reached up to fondle one of your nipples. He rubbed the sensitive and aching bud between the pads of his index finger and thumb, knowing it would turn you on even more than you thought possible.
“Kel… fuck!” You threw your hand back as he began to leave sloppy, wet kisses down the side of your neck, and eventually on the base of your throat. Once his lips reached your collarbone, he found a spot to mark as his and began sucking on the thin skin.
At this point, both of his hands were fondling your breasts, kneading and rubbing them as if he had never touched boobs in his life.
He abruptly stopped sucking - a hickey in it’s very early stages appearing where his lips had been - and stood up.
You looked at him with confusion, a faint red ring starting to form around your lips from his beard brushing against your skin.
Standing at the side of the bed, approximately where you had been a couple minutes prior sucking him off, he ordered you to hang your head off of the bed, and you knew what was coming.
Kelly knew that this was one of your favourite ways to give head; the way it was easier to take him down your throat, the way you - or Kelly - could easily reach between your legs, the way the blood rushed to the top of your head; it was vulnerable, hot, and a perfect way to submit to him.
You spun around quickly and lowered your back onto the bed, shimmying until your shoulders were at the end of the mattress, and you slowly lowered your head back.
Your head was upside down, face to face with Kelly’s cock, and you couldn’t be more excited. He grabbed himself in his hand, and tapped his dick against your lips.
“Open.” And that you did. Your mouth opened to take him, and he slowly entered into you, allowing you to adjust. He didn’t go completely in, but he thrusted at a slow pace into your mouth.
Sure, he was in heaven; there was no doubt about that. But you, on the other hand, were in complete submission and sheer bliss as you engulfed his length. You knew that at this point, there would be a complete puddle beneath your heat by the time you were done, the oral you were giving him in this particular position turning you on indefinitely.
He began to pick up the pace, and you knew he was going to throat-fuck you soon, but he suddenly stopped, half of his dick still in your mouth.
“Spread those legs for me. I want you to touch yourself while I throat-fuck you.” It was as if he would never ask. You widened your hips, spreading your legs with your knees pointed up.
Reaching down you began to play with your pulsating clit, the excessive slick of your heat aiding in your masturbation, and Kelly continued sliding in and out of your mouth.
Finally being able to touch yourself practically had you on the verge of an orgasm, but you knew that when you were the submissive and Kelly was the dominant, he was the one who told you when to release.
He was moving in and out of your mouth much faster than before, and he decided that now was as good a time as any to grab both of your nipples with his fingers and pinch them. The combination of you playing with yourself, him entering your mouth at this angle, and him toying with your extremely sensitive nipples was a recipe for an orgasm, and he knew that.
So, he took himself out of your mouth quickly, a glob of spit connected his cock to your lips as he pulled out completely.
He walked away, spit trickling down the sides of your face. You knew you were most definitely sporting the raccoon look, remnants of your smeared mascara on your upper and lower lash line, but you also knew it was a sexy sight for Kelly to see. You looked ravaged, and knew that once he began to throat-fuck you, the mascara residue would be running down your face along with your tears of pleasure.
You knew better than to move from your fixed position without his permission, so you remained still, awaiting his return.
He came back, lowering himself into your mouth once again. When you heard a click and a buzz that followed, your eyes widened, and you withered beneath him.
It’s not that you didn’t want him to use the vibrator - you most definitely did. It was more the fact that you probably wouldn’t be able to last more than 30 seconds without violently cumming.
He touched the wand to your clit, and as he tapped your mouth with his cock again, you knew he was signalling for you to take him.
The vibrator hadn’t even been on you for 10 seconds and you were already squirming. “Colour?” He asked, removing the vibrator from between you and pulling out of your mouth at the same time. He always made sure to check on you as things began to intensify.
“Green” you breathed out eagerly, wanting him to continue what he was doing.
You used the basic traffic light system whenever you experimented in the bedroom, the both of you making consent the forefront of your sexual encounters. Green means you’re doing okay and are enjoying yourself, yellow means slow down or modify an action, and red was the danger zone, indicating a complete stop was needed.
“I’m going to throat fuck you now” he stated once he had received the all-clear from you.
Before he could even ask you to open for him, you were waiting with your mouth wide open, ready to take his length.
He put the vibrator back on your clit, and began fucking your mouth at a medium pace. The vibrator was operating at it’s lowest setting, but you were shaking like a leaf.
The tip of his dick was so far into your mouth, you wondered how he could go down any more. Once he did, you began to gag, producing an overload of saliva in the process; the sounds you were making music to his ears.  
“Fuckkkk” Kelly moaned out, seeing the - stubborn - woman he was in love with sprawled out, legs spread open and head tilted back, taking him like such a good girl.
Usually, he would shower you with praise when your sexual activities erred towards the rougher side, but with the sheer stress and terror you put him under earlier, he was merely focused on having his way with you.
Once your legs began to shake profusely, he knew you were close which triggered him to remove the toy. This earned a moan of frustration and desperation to escape your mouth; the pleasure you felt was overwhelming, and the edging made you want to combust.
Making you gag on his cock a couple more times, he knew that he also couldn’t postpone his orgasm any longer. He desperately wanted to be inside of you, assuming that by now you’d be gushing for him.
He exited you for the last time, but kept the vibrator on you, wanting to torture you just that bit more. You whined out in pleasure, gurgling in the process given the saliva was dripping out of your mouth.
Shutting the vibrator off, he placed it on your bedside table, unsure about whether or not he’d decide to use it again later. He helped you in sitting up by lifting your shoulders, and you automatically scooted to the top of the bed, centering yourself.
Before he made his way over to you, he reached behind him grabbing the back of his squad 3 t-shirt and lifting it over his head. He revealed his beautifully sculpted chest, a sight you never got tired of seeing.
Finally, he slid his pants off, followed by his tighty whities that made his ass look like a peach. Kneeling onto the bed, he began towards you, the anticipation of the fact that he was finally about to have his way with you nearly killing him.
“How bad do you want this cock inside of your pussy, hm?” Kelly asked, running his thumb through your folds, applying pressure to your clit once he reached the top.
“Very badly” you whined, unable to sit still. Your eyes kept shifting between his, and his cock. His shaft was glistening, and his tip was so profound it looked like he was going to burst any second.
“Very badly what? What do you know to call me?” He gave you a questioning look as he ran his dick across your folds.
“Very badly, daddy. I want your cock inside my pussy very badly” you said, once again in a whiny tone as you peered up at him with glossy eyes.
You don’t know what had gotten into you, why you had the desire for sex more strongly than a drunk frat boy. But what you did know was that if he wasn’t fucking you within the next minute, you would probably disintegrate.
“Spread those legs for me” he commanded, and you did as you were told. Both of you were completely revealed for the other, a level of intimacy achieved that you never thought possible.
Kelly tapped his heavy cock against your folds before gathering your wetness with his head. With one hand on the headboard for support, he used his other hand to guide himself into you.
The feeling of him slowly sinking into you - stretching you out in the process - was well worth the foreplay you had just done. It was as if the buildup made the moment your bodies connected that much more pleasure-filled.
Once he was completely submerged within you, he looked up at you for reassurance and you nodded your head extremely quickly. You usually needed some time to adjust to his size, but you were so ready for him both mentally and physically that you didn’t need the warm-up.
Both of his arms propped his body up, each one planted on either side of your head as he slowly thrust in and out of you. You spread your legs even further as you took him, reviling in the immense euphoria you felt from him fully filling you.
The speed at which he rocked into you quickly hastened as he saw how much enjoyment you were experiencing. Your head was bobbling around as your eyes rolled back in pleasure and multiple gasps escaped from between your lips.
He roughly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you. You hear me?” Without breaking his pace, he asked if you understood what he was asking of you, and you nodded hastily in agreement.
“Yes, yes” you gushed, doing everything in your power to once again prevent your orgasm from erupting early.
His hand quickly grasped the sides of your throat, the lack of oxygen causing a sudden dizzy feeling that sent you even further into sub-space.
“Yes, what?” As he asked you, he released the grip on the sides of your throat to readjust, and once again squeezed, practically urging you to answer him.
“Yes, lieutenant.” He nearly came immediately inside of you at the sound of you sultrily stating his rank. But he wanted you to come first, not because you deserved to on this particular day, but for something else he had planned.
He quickly slipped out of you, releasing the grip he had on your throat which caused you to look at him in confusion.
He grabbed one of the pillows on your bed and lifted your hips, sliding it beneath you to gain leverage. He then reached for the vibrator, your eyes widening as you watched his every move.
“What colour?” He asked the question as if he were asking you what you wanted for dinner; the ease of his tone made you want to giggle.
“Green” you responded, without even thinking about your answer; you were beyond ready.
As soon as he got the all clear, he sank right back into your warm, wet heat, slowly regaining the fast pace he was fucking you at before he last pulled out.
He clicked the wand on and lowered it onto your clit, the dual-pleasure you received as he crashed his cock repeatedly into your g-spot while vibing you to the high heavens caused you to yelp. You were practically smelling colours, your senses overloaded in the best way possible.
Nothing but pure frustration was fuelling Kelly as he drilled into you; he wanted to fuck the stubbornness right out of you for scaring him the way you did on shift, and your refusal to see that your actions were reckless heightened his anger even more.
“Fuck, fuck!!!” Your face scrunched together as you tried to fight off the early stages of your orgasm. Kelly could feel you pulsing around him, knowing you had to be close.
“I want to cum, daddy, please, can I come? Fuck!!!” Keeping still inside you, he took the wand off of your clit to turn up the level of vibration, and then returned it back on your swollen bulb.
Pummelling into you with strokes so deep he must’ve been scraping your cervix, he commanded “cum for me, slut.” As soon as the words escaped his mouth you completely unravelled, the orgasm you had put off for what felt like an eternity suffocated your entire body in pure bliss.
You were shocked he had let you come first… you thought this was supposed to be your punishment for disobeying his orders, and you didn’t think being the first one to orgasm was on his list of ways to teach you a lesson.
But you had no idea what Kelly had planned until he was flipping you over onto your hands and knees, only to immediately thrust right back into you.
Your entire body jolted as he did so, given you were still recovering from your orgasm; you were so extremely sensitive, goosebumps appearing on every inch of your skin.
“I’m going to make sure you never disobey my orders again” he stated matter o’factly, absolutely ravaging your pussy. Holding onto your hips for support, the pads of each one of his fingers dug so deeply into your skin you knew he was causing bruises to form.
“Fuckkkk” you let out, your voice faltering in the same fashion as his thrusts. You couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut and keep your head down, attempting to ride out the overstimulation as he pounded out his emotions into you.
Without disconnecting your bodies from one another, he reached over on the bed to grab the belt you had removed from him earlier. He looped it underneath you, pulling up tightly as he snaked it around your hips. The cold leather made you shiver once again, a sensation that took your mind away from the second orgasm coiling in your tummy.
The belt allowed him to drill into you with an added force, and with his free hand he grabbed a fistful of your hair, bringing you closer to him.
Lowering his mouth down to your ear, he uttered “don’t you dare disobey my orders at work ever again. Do you understand me?!” The way his hot breath fluttered into your ear canal made you feel completely and utterly his, and you’re pretty sure that’s the effect he was going for.
“Yes, yes sir, I understand” you quickly responded, continuing to let him take you relentlessly. He let go of your hair and reached around you, grasping onto one of your tits. A pinch of your nipple sent what felt like a wave of electricity shooting through your entire body.
“God, you’re so fucking hot. You take my cock so well, huh?” He gave in and showered you with praise - though it was minimal - after you were being so good for him.
“Yes daddy, I take your cock so well. No one can fuck me like you can” you gushed in response. Your’s and Kelly’s sex life was always off the charts, but you believe this was the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had together.
You could tell he was close by the way he was losing his momentum, but he mustered up some strength to take himself across the finish line, hoping you would be right there with him for your second orgasm.
He released the belt from beneath you, tossing it to his side in order for him to reach around for your clit.
“‘M gonna cum. Fuck!” Kelly moaned out. “Cum with me darling. C’mon, you can do it” he encouraged, pushing your body to the brink.
“Fuck” he groaned out. As soon as you felt his hot liquid start to coat your walls, the coil forming your orgasm ruptured like the snapping of an elastic. “Oh my god” you gasped, feeling liquid rush down your legs.
Kelly looked down at where the two of you connected, and all he saw was a clear liquid begin to seep through the sheets.
“Did you just…” you were zoned out to the max, so clouded with intense sensation you could barely even hear him.
“What?” you whispered, turning around to look at him. When you saw he was staring beneath the both of you, you looked where he was and noticed the puddle you were hovering above.
“Oh my god. I think I just squirted” you gasped, nearly giggling. You had never done so before, and you were almost proud of yourself.
“That’s so fucking hot” Kelly whispered, slowly unsheathing his cock from your pussy. You flipped yourself over onto your back, letting out a breath from the exertion you had just been through before collapsing.
“I’ve never done that before. I honestly didn’t think I could” you admitted as he laid down next to you, propping his head up with his elbow. “Are you serious?” Looking at you like you had five heads, he scanned your face for any hint that you might be lying.
“You just fucked me into the abyss, Kel, yes I’m serious. That was so fucking hot” you breathed out, still attempting to catch your breath.
As silence filled the room for a second, the both of you entering recovery mode, you decided that now would be as good a time as any to apologize.
“I’m sorry, Kel. I didn’t mean to go against a direct order, and I sure as hell didn’t mean to scare you… I know that it’s not just myself I put at risk when I act on impulse, it’s the entire house, and if something happened to one of them because of me, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself” I admitted.
Kelly nodded as you explained yourself. “I really don’t want our relationship to get in the way of our jobs. Just know that if anyone else had pulled the shit you did I would be just as angry with ‘em.”
You nodded in understanding. You knew he was just trying to do his job, and it most definitely made his leadership abilities look questionable when you went against him.
“Understood lieutenant” you said with a wink and a smile, earning a chuckle from him in response.
“Was I too rough with you? You know you can always communicate with me if you need to, no matter how deep in the moment we are” he scanned your face as he asked his question with sincere concern.
“No, no, Kel. It was great. I would’ve spoken up if I couldn’t handle it. You always take such good care of me.” Staring up into his eyes with admiration, you were wondering to yourself how you go so lucky to end up with a man like him.
He caressed your cheek with the pad of his thumb before planting a kiss on your lips.
“I’m gonna go start a bath for you, m’kay? You relax” he stood up, leaning over to kiss you on the forehead before walking to your en-suite.
“Hey, Kel?” He turned around. “Yeah?” He asked curiously.
“If you fuck like that every time you’re angry, expect me to rile you up way more often from here on out” you giggled.
“Fuck off” he smirked, grabbing a pillow from the end of the bed and tossing it at you playfully. As he turned around continuing his walk to the bathroom he muttered “I don’t have to be angry to fuck you like that. Just say the word princess.”
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EEEEEEEP I hope that was okay!!!!! This is my first time writing smut so PLEASE take it easy on me. This idea was brewing for a while and I feel as though I executed it poorly so please give me feedback- I’m more than willing to made edits! Let me know what y’all think and enjoy your St. Patty’s weekend!!!!!!
Also, if you’re waiting for me to write your request, your patience is beyond appreciated. I’ve been struggling tremendously with my mental health, and although that is not an excuse, I just wanted to provide a reason for the delay. Thank you!!!!🤍
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sapphicseasapphire · 6 months
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Once upon a time, there was a Princess and a Knight.
There were others as well: Champions hailing from the far corners of Hyrule, innocent civilians, soldiers for the crown…
And a world ending evil.
The kingdom of Hyrule knew of their impending doom, they knew of the Great Calamity that threatened their lives. And so, the Princess prepared to protect her people by offering her prayers to the Goddess Hylia, giving every last ounce of herself in order to unlock the sealing power that she supposedly possessed.
Around her, the kingdom of Hyrule made its own preparations. Ancient automatons were discovered deep in the heart of the land and, piloted by the Champions, would be an asset to the Hyrulean Army. Guardians would act as foot soldiers, Divine Beasts would deal a heavy blow.
All in all, the kingdom hoped. They were well equipped for the battle ahead of them. The Princess’s knight wielded his sacred sword with confidence. The Champions piloted their Divine Beasts with valor. The Princess continued to pray for a power that would never come.
It would end up being their downfall.
Faceless bodies, nameless faces, all lost to the maw of the Calamity. The Champions had perished, their weapons becoming deadly prisons. The soldiers had fallen, slain by the very Guardians meant to protect them. Though, in her desperation, she tapped into the wellspring of power within herself and managed to save herself, it was not enough. In her lap was her knight, and he was not breathing. She had lost.
She had lost everything.
The blade of the Master Sword, tarnished in blood and muck where it rested in her knight’s limp fingers, reflected her tears as she cried over his lifeless body. All was silent, save for her sobs and shaky pleas. She begged the Goddess for forgiveness, for her knight to magically start breathing once more. She cursed Hylia for allowing this to happen, for ignoring her all these years, for taking the lives of so many.
The Goddess had ignored her in the past, and she had no qualms ignoring her now.
For the first time in her life, surrounded by the skeletons of corrupted Guardians, by the lifeless forms of the fallen, the princess was alone.
She was truly alone.
After the battle, the princess was discovered by the Sheikah, who ushered her to safety. The Kingdom was lost, buried somewhere beneath the ruin and carnage that surrounded her. She brought her knight with her, one last escort, she told herself. The princess could not bear to leave him there, alone with the emotionless automatons that had stolen his life away.
She walked beside him as he was carried from the battlefield.
When it was safe, she laid her fallen knight to rest in a quiet forest near his hometown, where the mountains had shielded the village from the worst of the Calamity and the sea breeze rustled through the leaves on the trees. The static sound was a comfort to the princess as she placed a blue and white flower onto the mound of upturned earth. Six feet under an unmarked grave lied a young man- just a boy- who deserved better. He had defended her until his very last breath, cursed to bear the responsibility of wielding the Blade of Evil’s Bane, destined to fight an impossible battle.
It was always going to end like this.
The princess did not have time to mourn. She entrusted the Great Deku Tree with the Master Sword, her heart aching with the knowledge that the sacred blade would no longer be wielded by her brave knight. Hyrule would have to wait for the cycle to begin anew, but in the mean time…
She had a job to do.
With nothing left to loose, the princess marched straight to bones of Hyrule Castle, where the beast of Calamity Ganon circled ominously above. With her sealing powers finally available to her, the princess was ready for one final fight.
But there’s an intrinsic magic in the balance of nature. The more religious Hyrulean citizens might even say they see Hylia herself in the glorious orange and pink sunsets, in the gentle hum buzz of the forest, the rolling majesty of waves. Life thrums under one’s feet if they walk too far off the paths across Hyrule.
It is no secret that there are spirits that roam the wilds. A select few claim to see lively children of the forest, playful little gremlins with the face of a leaf. More commonly seen are spirits called Blupees, mysterious, their eerie blue glow visible to everyone in Hyrule. No one quite knows their origin, but it is said that they’re the result of pure earthly magic bursting at the seams with heavenly light.
And such light, such divine grace, needed a place to go. It worked its way into the fallen knight’s lifeless body, slowly but surely revitalizing him. Some might say Hylia herself cradled him in the palms of her hands and breathed shimmering life back into his lungs.
The process of revival changed him fundamentally, though it only took a month at most. The knight was robbed of his memories, his body becoming almost unrecognizable. His hair became ghostly white, his skin flowed a gentle bluish hue. He had become a forest spirit with no recollection of the Hylian he once was.
Hyruleans citizens might occasionally see him in dense forests or scorching deserts. He wandered about the lava pools of Eldin for a time. Aimlessly wandering the wilds. Those that saw him called him the Child of the Mountains, believing he had a connection to the elusive Lord of the Mountain that he so closely resembled.
Years passed, and the Child of the Mountains was spotted less and less often. A century after the rise of the Calamity, no one remembered the knight that had fallen in battle. No one noticed the upturned earth of that unmarked grave. No, the nameless knight was lost to time.
The Child of the Mountains remained the topic of folklore all across Hyrule, an otherworldly presence that was so rarely spotted. But things began to change for the forsaken kingdom. Divine Beasts stopped their rampaging, towers and shrines went from vicious orange to soothing blue. Still, no one connected the dots until Calamity Ganon itself was defeated and the fabled Child of the Mountains was spotted after the battle bearing a familiar blessed sword.
He disappeared completely after the war was won.
Somehow, the princess had survived the century long battle against the malice, and she had been quick to order a search for her knight. But that’s the thing about spirits: if they don’t want to be found, there’s just no finding them.
Still, the princess would not give up on him. Not again. She’d seen him, briefly, after he’d slain the monstrous Calamity. Her knight was still in there, she was sure of it. She will stop at nothing to bring him home.
. . .
Some notes!
• Wild is kind of sort of immortal. He can’t die unless he’s killed. (He’s been alive for a century and is vibing)
• Wild spent the entire century between waking up and fighting Calamity Ganon just… wandering in the woods like a lost child. Freaks out the locals but eh, he doesn’t really care.
• Of all of the Links, Wild is the least… human. He has no memory of ever being Hylian. All he knows is the wilderness.
• It sounds like bells and chimes when he walks, just like a Blupee!
• LOVES shiny things! Distracted very easily
• Mostly nonverbal. He communicates mostly with his antennae, though he doesn’t really have anyone to communicate with. He can speak telepathically with other spirits and the Great Deku Tree.
• Flora never expected him to come back. He was dead for good. But when a spirit with the same face as her fallen knight suddenly arrives at the castle after a century to kill the thing she’s been fighting, she was in disbelief. She recognized him which freaked him out and he ran away.
• He’s been wearing the clothes that he was buried in this WHOLE TIME.
• Subject of Hyrulean folklore, everyone has different thoughts on what he is. They all know he’s a spirit. But is he friendly? A protector to the people? Guardian of the wilds? He’s seen pretty rarely and encounters are short and quiet. Sometimes he’ll stare at the person, sometimes he’ll try to fight them, sometimes he’ll just run away.
• Chaos gremlin
• I love him very much
Original Character Sheets!
Sky’s Origin!
Time’s Origin!
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