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sprout-fics · 7 months

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I think abt this all the time so I need to ask you. // whumpy ask ahead

Do you think simon’s ever afraid to sleep with/near his partner bc he gets violent night terrors and he’s terrified he’ll hurt them trying to ‘defend’ himself during a ptsd episode? I don’t think he’d ever be intentionally violent or scary, but I mean the man has been through a metric fucktonne of shit and clearly has survival instincts that rival a grizzly bear, what if he had a night terror and that self-protection instinct kicked in before he could register that he’s safe, he’s not in danger, that someone he loves is on the other end of his self defence? What if he hurt them on accident? What if he’s really as rotten on the inside as he pretends not to be? What if he shatters their trust? The trust he never deserved anyway? What if he’s a monster?

Anyway this thought consumes most of my waking moments. I love him. Put that man in a Shituation

Dark Vision

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OFC 'Fix')

(Of Shadows and Bones Masterlist)

Rating: PG-13 Wordcount: 1.5k Tags: Established Relationship, Sleeping Together, Angst, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Second Person POV Warnings: PTSD nightmares A/N: Anon I literally could not resist not only putting that man in a shituation, I will put that man in a shituation with my beloved Fix

He’s talking in his sleep again.

Strange half-mumblings, words with no meaning that you can hear from behind you, curled as you are on your makeshift bedroll. The abandoned cabin on the rise overlooking your RV point does little to insulate against the chill that comes just before dawn. Both your forms are swallowed in darkness as Soap sits outside on third watch, vigilant for any approaching trespassers who may have followed you from the village the three of you had cased for traces of Makarov. Simon had taken the first watch, and you second. By the time you’d come inside to lay down he’d been curled on his side, solidly asleep and clutching one of his blades in a steadfast grip.

Almost as if he was protecting himself not from his pursuers, but from dreams.

“Tommy-”

Your worried frown deepens as the garbled, cracking call from the soldier behind you. You’d situated yourself not far from him, hardly touching except when you’d stretched out your legs. He’d twitched when your boots had grazed against him, and you thought for a moment he’d wake, levy a snarking remark at you. Instead he sucked in a deep breath, released it, and once more fell still. Now, you can feel him twitching in his sleep- little jolts and shudders as he bodily tries to fight off whatever shadows haunt his mind.

You shouldn’t wake him. You know better than that. Simon isn’t one to appreciate coddling, would merely buck you off and be sour for the next day until he forgot about it. Really, you should just go sit outside with Johnny, feign an excuse of sleeplessness and leave Simon to his restless dreams.

“F-Fix-”

You nearly startle at that, eyes blinking as you’re suddenly wide awake. You sit up, twist to look at Simon’s shuddering form, curled around the knife in his hands with a death grip. He arches, groans at some unseen entity, the sound dragging low in his chest. Again, he calls your name, and whatever phantom clutches at him feels as if it bleeds into your own marrow, whispering fear and ruin.

You shouldn’t wake him.

You really shouldn’t.

You feel your heart race as you gently lay a hand on him anyways, a soothing touch to his shoulder that he doesn’t notice.

“Simon.” You whisper softly, gently scooting closer to him. “Simon, love, it’s just a dream.”

The shiver in his limbs seems to abate a bit at that, and you watch as the grip loosens around the blade. You breathe in relief, feeling him grow lax as you continue to whisper to him in reassuring murmurs, trying to ward off his demons that haunt him even in sleep.

“It’s alright, Simon. You’re okay. I’m right here.”

You lean over him more fully now, hesitantly arranging yourself closer to the curl of his spine. Perhaps the proximity is what he needs, the comfort of another’s touch that he’s always so hesitant to ask of you. Nevermind that Soap is outside. Johnny understands to some degree the relationship between you and Simon, and you pray he’ll ignore any murmurs he hears at least until he can needle you about them later.

You’re careful as you quietly press in behind him, your hand on his shoulder hesitant, and then firm as you adjust your weight-

You feel him stiffen a moment too late.

Simon awakes with a snarl, a wild, feral beast in his fear as he twists towards you, rolls you under him in one swift, powerful motion.

You bring your hands up automatically, years of close combat roaring to life as you try to protect yourself from his violent reaction. Fortunately his movements are weighted with sleep, sluggish to some degree, allowing you to block the hand that moves for your windpipe, seize the wrist holding his knife and drag it well to the side.

It’s still sheathed.

Simon struggles for a moment, and you watch as he sucks in air, chest rising and eyes bright as he tries to make out the figure below him in the darkness. His instincts are on overdrive, adrenaline fully fueling his blood before he was even awake. You know he doesn’t see you, he sees a threat, something that tried to rouse him for ill-intent. For all he knows you could be an enemy, an ambusher, someone trying to kill him in his sleep.

You could be Roba, one of his men.

He grapples with you, twists your hands with a little grunt even as you try to shove him off. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, but there’s a part of you that knows that this is Simon. Simon, who has slept near to you a dozen times, who has been in your bed, who has saved your life, who knows your real name, who once smeared blood from your cheek with a fondness that had stolen the air from your lungs.

“Si-” You try as he hauls your hands above you, forcing yourself to go into limp surrender so as to show you aren’t a threat. “Simon, it’s me. It’s Fix.”

His shoulders are heaving as he finally stills, the blade planted on the floor next to your head. You can see his eyes glinting in the darkness, wild and unfocused, slowly dawning with realization at the sound of your voice.

You force yourself to swallow the rush of startled surprise in your throat, trying to even your breathing and show him you’re alright. He tenses as you speak.

“It’s alright, Simon. It was just a dream.”

Simon stares down at you in the darkness, past his mask, eyes wide with shock. There’s a flash of something you can’t name, one that passes over his eyes quickly as it too fades behind the facade of something forced.

“Fix.” He rumbles, voice hoarse.

You summon a shaky smile. “Yes, love. It’s me.”

“You’re-” He starts, before biting off his words, unwilling to finish whatever sentence has poisoned his mouth.

He releases you then, his adamantium grip slowly sliding off your wrists as he braces above you, staring.

“You were having a nightmare.” You tell him in the silence that follows, and it doesn’t truly touch the words you want to say.

You called my name in your sleep. You were afraid. What did you see? Tell me, please, so I can make it better.

He rolls away from you so his back is once again to you, and you want to chase him, press yourself to his spine as if you’re a shield for his peaceful slumber.

“Go to sleep, Fix.” He tries, and he sounds so tired, weary in a way you want to aid. You observe him, the way moonlight catches on his shoulders from the open window, the hunch of himself as he tries to shake the remnants of his forbidden vision.

“Not tired.” You tell him in return, and he sighs- with annoyance or with resignation, you aren’t sure.

You reach a hand for him. He tenses.

“You shouldn’t have woken me up.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He’s silent at that, and even with his back turned you know he’s fidgeting with his gloves, a sign of distress.

“I could have hurt you.” He says, and it’s almost angry. Not at you, but at himself.

You observe him silently, seeing the steady rise and fall of his shoulders, the way his demons chase him into wakefulness.

“You’d never hurt me.” You tell him, and you watch him sink at that, head bowing forward. “Would you?”

“No.” His answer comes quick, and to anyone else it sounds only prompt. To you, it sounds almost desperate.

“Simon.” You murmur, and stretch forward to touch him again. You lay a hand on his shoulder, and he sucks in a breath, pauses, before he gently lays a gloved palm against your fingers.

“It was just a dream.” You tell him again. He doesn’t nod, but he understands, this you can tell.

“You should sleep.” He replies, softer now, tired and tender.

“Only if you try to sleep too.” You offer, and scoot forward so your cheek now rests on his shoulder, feeling him fully relax against your touch. “Just lay down with me. You can stay awake if you want.”

Simon is silent for a moment, and you hold your breath in anticipation. At last, he turns towards you, arranges you in his arms with his back towards the window, his head tucked at the crown of your head.

You rub gentle circles into his hip as he lays your head on his arm as a pillow, curling around you protectively, almost possessively, as if daring his nightmares to touch you.

You don’t speak. There’s little else to say. You know someday he’ll tell you the thing he saw, the vision of you that had him cry out your name from his nightmares. You trust him to carry it until he’s ready, to keep you in his trust until then, and far after. You curl closer to him with a soft sigh, let your eyelashes flutter into a soft doze.

The knife remains in its sheath, beyond his reach.

(Attaching my usual masterlist for this series because why not)

Tag List: (Reblog this post to be added to future fics from this series! If you'd like to be removed please DM me!)

@dankest-farrik @zwiiicnziiix @moondirti @sritashimada @ladiilokii @yeyinde @sandinthemachine @verdandis-blog @guyfieriiii @fan-of-encouragement @starlitnotes @alicesfracturedmirror @rentaldarling @mockerycrow @atenceladusiaawfytbwb @tinykaka @dumb-djarin @homicidal-slvt @soapskneebrace @nightingale-ghost-writer @selinn777 @nachtcirce @jujubashow @mutuallimbenclosure @kkinky @trash-boi-4-life @scatter-mind001 @alittlefansthings @allaboutirem0 @keiva1000 @makariaspresence @achelois-is-here @nightingale-ghost-writer @altered-delta @thetimidsarcasticcat @nestaarcheronss @bitchykittenconnoisseur @ghxstyops @whotfislynn @gazs-blue-hat @obi-wansorrow

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #mw2 #cod mw22 #Simon ghost riley x oc #reader insert #cod x reader #fic: shadow and bone #oc: fix

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dolldefiler · 2 months

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[I'm not going to colour this because it's still just a rehabilitative piece. Can you tell I still have no idea what I'm doing? Also, I'll get to my asks in a bitttttt. Much love, thanks for sticking around <33]

C/W: Rape

Some girls think they’re strong and smart. They think a few self-defence classes and an oversized ego can protect them from the vicious, cruel pounding of a man that wants to spend his seed inside her pathetic cunt. God, I’d love to see that false bravado warp into silent terror as we walk down that dark path together. She’d lead, scurrying ahead, wary of my footsteps. A walk would turn into a sprint. The silence would be torn by her screams.

I’d shove her to the ground, those hours spent in a dojo a distant memory. I wonder how she’d flail, feeling my dirty boot pressing against her face. I wouldn’t bother being gentle. The dumb bitch knew about me. She tried to prepare for me. But she’s just like any other weak, rapetoy of a woman. I’d grope her tight ass, molesting the product of years of training. I’d squeeze hard, thanking her for turning into the perfect sex doll for me.

It’s not like anyone would hear us but loud noises annoy me. I’d tear off her clothing and use a pair of leggings or trousers to choke the stupid rapesleeve out. Perhaps the panic might cause a few techniques to resurface in her head. She’d press around my body, desperate to find a pressure point on me or something. The actions of a toy in the process of breaking. I’d slam her into the concrete again, harder, watching her body go limp. Ready.

I’d push into her ass, straining against her tightness. God, I love it when whores become tight out of fear. It’s like I’m being rewarded for terrorising and abusing the wretched little sex toys. I’d push, slamming harder and faster into her, slapping her face occasionally to wake her up. And she would wake up. She’d wake up, panicked, violated and fearful. For a minute, her world would be painted in all the colours of pain.

It’d be fun watching her struggle to regain her humanity as my cock violently splits her perfect butt in two. She’d pant and cry incoherently, frothing at her lips. Pathetic. I’d grab her handbag, my hips still pumping, and pour its contents onto the ground. I’d pick up a fallen rape whistle and laugh, another hand pressing her head onto the cold, wet concrete.

I’d pretend to blow it, and even offer it to her trembling lips. As she’d blow, I’d violently masturbate with her asshole, the length of my cock wreaking havoc in her unprepared ass. The whistle would barely make a noise. Tears and heavy sobs would fill the air.

I’d pull out and cum over her whistle. I’d pour my seed over the symbol of her hard work. Her every measure she’d taken to protect herself. Nothing would protect her from her fate. No classes. No items. Nothing. In the end, she’d still be a stupid, silly girl on the inside.

#rapekink #rapetoy #r@pe fantasy #r@pe kink #r@pe play #r@pedoll #dark kinks #rough #r4p3 kink #r4p3play

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thefrogdalorian · 2 months

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Ner Aliit

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy in the Razor Crest with a formidable Mandalorian is a harsh, unforgiving life. The feelings you have developed for him as you soar through the stars together have mitigated the unpleasant aspects. Still, you know it can't last. After all, you and Din are from different worlds. He follows a strict Creed and you know that you do not have what it takes to be Mandalorian.

Journeying with the best bounty hunter in the parsec has often brought you face to face with danger. It has never fazed you before. Until one day you come face to face with danger without Din's reassuring presence at your side, and everything changes.

Word Count: 5.4k ✯ Rating: Teen ✯ Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, reader kills someone with a blaster in self defence (Nothing is described in graphic detail) and subsequently deals with anxiety/panic attacks. ✯ Author's Note: Today is four years since I watched Mando for the first time so I wrote this to celebrate! Inspired by a little daydream I had while looking at my own Mythosaur necklace. It's an AU where Din never had Grogu but still had shiny beskar, allow it ahah. Really hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading! 🤍

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

You can already tell from how Din’s footsteps thud a little heavier than usual against the ramp that something has angered him during his latest hunt. Perhaps he will share what precisely has troubled him later when you hurtle through hyperspace towards Nevarro. For now, you head towards the door, ready to help Din haul his latest bounty into the antiquated ship you call home.

Except, the man who stands before you is not Din Djarin.

Instead of the gleaming beskar you had been expecting to greet you on the ramp, a gloomy silhouette moves into view. There is something far darker about your presence than the man you had expected to see. It is not just the grimy, worn clothes he wears that send a shiver down your spine. Nor the way his beady eyes bore into you. They are sunken in his wizened face with a look of pure malice which sickens you to the pit of your stomach.

You are initially so shocked by the fact that the man standing before you is not Din, your eyes frantically examining the features of this stranger, that you almost fail to notice the weapon aimed at you.

Your heart skips a beat when you notice that the man is holding a blaster up at you. He stands unmoving, with his long, grungy fingers curled around the dark handle. The gesture sends a shiver down your spine. However, there is something even more terrifying than the reality of having a blaster aimed squarely in your direction.

It is the expression on his face.

His glare is unrelenting in his coldness as his finger hovers over the trigger. You do not doubt for one moment that he will pull it.

Throughout your life, you have been exposed to danger many times, even before you met Din. Such brushes with death only increased when you started travelling through the galaxy with a bounty hunter. It was to be expected, of course. You think of the numerous occasions when you witnessed Din becoming embroiled in terrible binds and scrapes while you sat back and watched the carnage unfold. At first, you had been terrified by such violence. Now, you have come to expect it.

Perhaps before you met Din and began travelling with him, someone holding a blaster at you and gazing at you with such viciousness as the man before you would have been utterly petrifying.

However, it seems that the best bounty hunter in the parsec has somewhat hardened you to the realities of the galaxy.

After the initial shock, you feel yourself accepting your current predicament with remarkable quickness. You assess the man's vulnerabilities and weak points, as Din once trained you to do. You notice a slight quake in his hand, the greyness of his scraggly beard and unkempt, greasy hair. He is not invincible. Soon, the terror you initially felt is replaced with anger; a simmering feeling in your gut as you are incredulous at the audacity of this man to threaten your life in this manner. You are furious at his attempt to intrude into your and Din's safe refuge like this. You are disgusted by him.

You have encountered plenty of unsavoury characters throughout your travels across the galaxy with Din. This pathetic coward does not faze you.

"Where is he?" the man finally speaks. His voice is gruff, his tone sharper than you imagined. It matches his wizened, wrinkly face, seemingly hardened by the decades of experience he undoubtedly possesses.

“Who?” you ask, feigning ignorance.

You know that the man will not buy your plea of ignorance regarding The Mandalorian. Yet, your act will buy you a few precious seconds to execute your plan. Plus, the more you converse with the man, the higher the chance his nerve may waver and that his sympathy for you might increase as you humanise yourself. You hope that by talking to him, his determination to mow you down in cold blood may decrease.

“Don’t play with me and give me a story full of bantha crap,” the man snarls, jabbing the blaster towards you, "I know you know where he is."

“I’m sorry,” you respond apologetically.

You know you must diffuse the situation and undo the damage you have caused with your blatant lies. Without hesitation, you raise your hands in a submissive gesture. Then, when the man does not take issue with a simple movement, you begin backing away from him. Fortunately, he lets you go. You can barely contain your grin as you know what you have in store for him.

Unknowingly, this man is playing right into your hands.

This old rogue may have thought he could get the upper hand on The Mandalorian by returning to his ship and threatening his travelling companion. Unfortunately, he has underestimated the advantage you gain from knowing the Razor Crest inside out, including all of this old ship's quirks.

When you are satisfied both by the distance you have placed between you and your assailant and your relative proximity to the control panel, which is the key to your plan's success, you fake a stumble backwards. Your hand collides with the button that, when depressed, rapidly releases a cloud of pressurised gas into the hull. The jets that shoot out of the walls soon fill the Razor Crest and form a temporary barrier between you and the man that obscures you from his view. The distraction gives you just enough time to grab a blaster from Din’s workbench and aim it towards your surprise visitor.

Then, without really consciously thinking about the consequences, you squeeze the trigger.

The sickening thud of the man’s body hitting the floor is the last sound you hear before you retreat up the ladder to the cockpit and seal yourself inside behind the secure door. You are pretty sure he will no longer prove a threat to you, but you have no desire to stick around and find out for definite. The reinforced door will provide sufficient protection, hopefully long enough for Din to return.

Given that someone managed to reach the Razor Crest and callously threaten your life, you cannot imagine that Din will be far away. If the man has accomplices, you do not doubt Din's capability to take them out before he returns to ensure your safety.

Yet, as the minutes pass by Din is nowhere to be seen.

You are unsure how long you sit on the hard floor with your back to the door, trembling as you sit there. At first, the tremors that have overtaken your body may well be thanks to the frigid metal. Its coolness certainly does not help. As the adrenaline wears off and the realisation of what has just transpired dawns on you, you rapidly become reduced to a jittery, trembling wreck.

Your state of mind following the skirmish is made worse by the paranoia which overtakes you.

Initially your primary concern is for your own safety. You brace yourself for the companions of the man whose body lies below you to barge in and finish the job their ringleader started. You wonder which weapons they may possess.

Would you try to fight them off, or should you flee?

You wonder whether you could even begin the launch sequence of the Razor Crest and fly away in search of Din. He has attempted to teach you how to fly the ship for emergencies such as this, but to your presently terrified brain, the dashboard looks like a confusing conundrum of buttons.

At the first thought of him wandering through the forests which cover the planet’s surface, your overactive imagination now runs away with the worst scenarios of what could be happening right this instant, elsewhere on this planet.

Visions of the Mandalorian you love, lying in a ditch somewhere on this forest-covered planet, injured and frightened after being ambushed by the same band of dastardly scoundrels overwhelm your senses.

The fear that Din will never return to you, that the depth of your feelings towards him will remain unsaid forever, shatters you.

You are unsure how long you sit there. Each creak and noise of the ship, noises that you are usually so familiar with and accustomed to now work against you, startling you each time. It is a constant cycle of alarm as your breathing rate picks up and your pulse rate thunders in your ears each time there is a faint thud. You feel your resolve draining with each disturbance.

So when you hear the sound of the Razor Crest's ramp whirring as it lowers to the ground, you barely have the energy to react. Instead, you are relieved that you are now seconds away from meeting your ultimate fate. One way or another, you will finally be put out of your misery. Whoever enters the Razor Crest will not be met with much fight from you, whatever their intentions.

When you hear footsteps this time, you believe that the thuds are indeed the familiar rhythmic, certain sounds of your favourite bounty hunter. Until you lay eyes upon him, however, you will not allow yourself to believe that fact.

Fortunately for your anguished soul, you get confirmation of Din’s return before ever laying eyes upon him.

“Cyare?” Din calls, his deep voice cuts through the ship up to the cockpit where you continue to cower in the cockpit, “Are you alright?”

You are so relieved to hear him that you could almost burst into tears. Before that happens, you must give him some acknowledgement that you were unharmed in the skirmish.

“I’m up here in the cockpit, Din,” you respond, alarmed at how your voice trembles as the adrenaline has worn off, “I’m alright.”

You push yourself up on shaky limbs to stand and prepare to reunite with the man you have grown so close to. You aren't entirely sure when it happened, falling in love with Din. You certainly never intended it, nor did you imagine that the aloof bounty hunter who was so stoic and barely spoke could reveal himself to have such a beautiful soul beneath his cold, metallic armour. Yet, somewhere along the way, as you hurtled through hyperspace together, you did fall in love with Din.

It was not one moment but rather a collection of smaller fragments which, when pieced together, form the warmth that spreads in your chest each time you think of Din. It has been the late-night conversations sitting in the red leather chairs of the cockpit, reminiscing on your past lives. The ability that Din possesses in never failing to make you laugh. Even on days when you feel despondent. It is how considerate Din is of you; he never fails to check on your well-being and ascertain whether you can handle one more job or whether you should return to Nevarro for a few days of rest.

All of those moments and more contributed to your present feelings for Din.

You realised how deeply you cared for him when you first noticed your overwhelming desire to please him. The fact that, without even realising it, you had learnt how he liked his ration packs prepared even if you could never enjoy a meal together, given the helmet restriction. You realised that you had attentively watched how Din polished his weapons and studied how he stored them so that you could alleviate some stress when he returned from another hunt and needed to rest. You have noticed that, even though your lives are in many ways different, you both retain the same core values and principles. Honesty, integrity and loyalty are traits you both hold dear.

Only moments ago, it had crushed you to think you would never get to enjoy such moments with Din again.

Now, you stand here, practically bursting with joy as you realise you will soon be back with the man whose presence you yearn to always be in. You can hear his feet hitting the rungs of the ladder that leads up to the cockpit and take a deep breath to steady yourself, even though your entire body quivers with the last dregs of adrenaline and the anticipation of seeing Din again.

The door opens. The familiar glint of the Beskar you had been expecting to see earlier finally comes into view, soothing your nerves instantly. Din surges towards you. You barely have time to react before his arms are around you. He brings a gloved hand up to your chin, holding your face in one hand while he secures his other arm snugly around your waist. You are grateful that he is holding you so tightly. Without his strong arms, you are unconvinced whether you could remain vertical.

“Oh, cyare," Din exhales, his voice trembling under the weight of his emotions. "I was so worried when I saw the body down there. What in Maker’s name happened here?” Din asks, deep voice full of concern.

“I heard footsteps that I assumed were yours, but when I got there, the door opened. You weren't there, Din. I was so scared," you confess, your voice trembling too.

"Dank farrik!" Din harshly exclaims. You startle in response, and he tightens his hold around you, bringing your chest flush to the cold metal of his armour, before apologetically adding, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, Din," you whisper in reassurance.

"Forgive me for my outburst. I was just frustrated that I couldn't be there for you. The same group, I assume, ambushed me. It took me a while to fight them off. I should have been here," Din shakes his head, "Anyway, do you want to tell me about what happened?"

You nod, your bottom lip trembling. You take some breaths to steady your nerves as you try your best to ignore your reflection in Din's helmet. If you pause for too long and perceive how fragile and broken you appear, you know you will crumble entirely.

"Well, I stepped up to the top of the ramp expecting to see you. Instead, that man was standing there. He held a blaster up at me. I was so scared that he was going to shoot," you squeak, voice barely above a whisper now. Din moves his hands up and down your back in soothing motions, comforting you enough to continue: "I managed to distract him enough to retreat with my hands up. Then I pretended to stumble and push the button on the control panel, which discharged the pressurised gas. It gave me the cover to grab your blaster on the workbench. And then, well, you saw...” you squeak out as you feel hot tears trail down your cheeks.

You permit yourself to fall apart now, knowing that Din is here to pick your pieces up and place you back together. He brings a hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers. A smile ghosts across your lips at the sensation of the buttery texture against your skin.

“You did so well, cyare,” Din whispers. "I promise you, you're safe now. No one will hurt you," he adds soothingly.

Din brings your head into his cowl. He gathers you to him and protects you from the anguish. From this position, you can faintly feel the warmth which emanates from the man beneath the beskar through the coarse yet soft material. The dark brown material is a sharp contrast to the hard, coldness of his armour, a sliver of humanity amongst the many facets of the formidable Mandalorian warrior. You never feel safer or more protected than when Din takes you into his arms and holds you close. The relief is immediate, but it does not stop the emotional outburst. Tears continue to stream down your face.

“I was so scared Din,” you manage out between the sobs that have suddenly overwhelmed your fragile state of mind.

“I know, I know. But I’m so proud of you,” Din says.

His ordinarily steady voice trembles with emotion except when he emphasises how proud he is of you. To know that Din Djarin himself is proud of you makes your chest ache with joy. You have made this strong, stoic warrior proud. It makes your head swim with glee. Yet, it only adds to the myriad of emotions which overwhelm your trembling body.

Din holds you close, but you cannot stop crying. The embarrassment you feel at your outburst further contributes to your distress. The tears flow in earnest now, Din’s cowl surely becoming damp with the moisture that has escaped your swollen, irritated eyes.

“Shhhhh my love, ner kar'ta,” Din soothes as he rocks you, “You’re safe now. I've got you. You’re safe.”

With his comforting words and the way Din holds you, your sniffles eventually subside. Still, Din holds you until you can barely stand anymore.

When you can stand no longer, when your body finally succumbs to the emotional toll of the day, Din is there to coax you into moving. Somehow,

Din manages to skillfully manoeuvre you into descending the ladder. You are too tired to question quite how it happens. The next thing you know, you are tucked up in the bunk. There is barely enough room for Din, yet he manages to lie beside you, holding you until you drift off.

Finally, you allow yourself to fall into the warm embrace of sleep…

✯✯✯

You remain confined to your bunk for most of the return trip to Nevarro. The skirmish took its toll on you. In your lethargicness, you struggle to have the energy to do anything other than sleep. Din is patient and attentive with you, taking care of all the maintenance jobs and meal preparation that you usually assist with.

Yet, it is not just the stress of events and the inescapable fact that you have claimed your first life which weighs on your mind. It is trying to figure out what the future looks like for you and Din.

You have never met anyone like him. He is intelligent, caring and skilled in anything he turns his hand to. He provides for you. Since you began travelling together, you have wanted for nothing physically or spiritually. Din is diligent and attentive, always on hand to pick you up if things prove too much. He makes you laugh like you never have with anyone else you have met. Until your ribs ache and your cheeks hurt from grinning. You think of the hours spent together sitting in the red chairs of the cockpit as the blues and silvers of hyperspace streak outside the windows, illuminating Din's armour in a way that leaves you mesmerised.

When you first started travelling with Din, you were sceptical that you would ever grow close to a man who kept so much of himself a mystery. His face was hidden behind a helmet and you knew him only as Mando. How could you ever form a bond with someone so elusive?

Now, you understand that you do not need to see a person's face to know them entirely. There is no doubt that you completely understand who the man underneath the beskar is. You trust Din Djarin with everything you have.

Although it took him long enough to honour you with knowing that name, now you speak it often. While he vows that he will know yours eternally, for it is the Mandalorian way to say, “I love you.”

You cannot imagine your life without him.

However, as much as you care for Din and are certain he cares for you in return, you know you will never have what it takes to become Mandalorian. It is why you have held back from your feelings, never permitting yourself to return the sweet words and affectionate nicknames. Your destinies lie in opposite directions. You will never be truly worthy of his love.

It is a thought that leaves you thoroughly despondent as you lie in the bunk. If you are this distressed after taking a life in self-defence, how would you ever be able to participate in his culture, his identity, which is so dear to him?

Without that fighting spirit within you, you are sure you would never be able to be Mandalorian. Without being Mandalorian, it will be impossible for Din to build a life with you.

Whatever relationship the two of you have is more than likely fleeting. You will part when it becomes apparent that you are too fundamentally different to prove a compatible pairing. You know that.

Yet, it does not stop the melancholia that such a fact provokes in you.

You understand that one day, Din Djarin will leave your life.

Knowing that evidence of your fundamentally opposing ways of life will become evident once more shortly leaves you inconsolable. Once the Razor Crest lands in Nevarro so the bounties can be offloaded Din will leave you alone for an indeterminate amount of time to be with his covert.

Since you are not Mandalorian, you are forbidden from joining him.

The thought of not being with him devastates you. Yet, the prospect of being alone on a planet without Din downright terrifies you after your brush with death.

Although you are frightened, you are determined not to let him see your discomfort.

After all, it would be unfair of you to hold Din back from spending time with his tribe.

You know you will never be able to join him, yet you still respect Din's creed. You admire his devotion to his Way. You do not judge him for it, even if you are baffled by some rules Din must adhere to.

Yet, there is another reason you keep your emotions to yourself.

You do not want to worry Din any further.

Following your brush with death, Din has been fussing over you so much that you almost feel smothered. He is watching you intently to check that the fact you have taken another’s life does not leave a scar on you. He constantly reassures you that it was self-defence and that you did the right thing. When you wake up screaming after terrible visions haunt you, Din is there in an instant to soothe your anguished soul.

Even though you are grateful for how much he cares, you want to be left alone. You feel guilty, as though you are a burden to him. Here you are, taking up so much of his precious time and energy when you are not even a member of his tribe.

So, when Din informs you he will depart the Razor Crest to join up with his covert after the old ship finally touches down on Nevarro, you are glad to see him go.

Even if being on such a skughole makes you unsettled. You wish that you had Din’s comforting presence around to soothe your soul. But non-Mandalorians are not permitted to enter the covert’s hideout, and you respect that rule.

So, you are alone.

You pass the time polishing and reordering Din's assortment of weapons so they are exactly how he likes him upon his return. It is penance for the tremendous amount of extra effort he exerted in taking care of you during your journey here.

After you finish cleaning Din's most prized possessions, you stand before the weapons locker, adjusting each blaster and rifle until they are arrow straight. Din is fastidious when it comes to organising his armoury. You want to please him.

It is a task that you are still engaged in when you hear the ramp whirring. The noise makes you panic initially. Until, for your benefit, Din calls your name to reassure you that it is him returning; no one is here to harm you.

Your initial anxiety is soothed instantly by the sound of his deep voice. The apprehension is replaced by a smile at the way the syllables of your name warble through his vocoder.

You hastily close the doors to the locker. You weren't quite finished with your task yet. You do not want Din to catch a glimpse before everything is perfect.

"You're back quicker than I expected," you observe, greeting him with a look of surprise across your features.

"There was only one matter I wished to settle," Din shrugs.

"Oh?" you raise your eyebrows, wondering if it is connected to the drawstring pouch made of dark material he carries in one hand.

"Concerning you," Din simply says.

You are rendered speechless. Your initial concern is that Din has confessed to travelling with a non-Mandalorian. Perhaps it is forbidden for his tribe to befriend outsiders. Your stomach drops as you panic that Din has been forced to leave his covert in disgrace.

What if, after the skirmish, Din decided to leave you behind here on Nevarro and simply needed to ask his tribe's leader for advice so his nerves did not waver?

Your frantic train of thought halts at the thuds of Din's footsteps approaching you. Mercifully, it seems you are about to discover the nature of their conversation.

"I have something for you," Din explains as he reaches into the drawstring pouch and produces a shiny object attached to a string.

You are curious about the mysterious relic before you. You do not hesitate to reach your hand out, your palm up, ready to accept it. It glints in mid-air before Din places it into your palm.

The sensation of the cool metal of the mysterious object

proves to be an intriguing yet comforting presence in your hand. It soothes you instantly. It is a grounding sensation you badly need. Especially after the dark places your mind has wandered to. Terrible visions and eventualities your imagination has frequented a lot recently since your brush with death.

You realise now that it is in your hand that Din has brought you a necklace. Peculiar. You wonder what in the galaxy an item of jewellery could have to do with his covert.

The metallic pendant is a shape you do not recognise; there is a long, thin strand of dark brown leather attached to the charm.

“Do you know what this is?” Din finally asks after he has left you alone to survey your gift.

You shake your head, looking up at him questioningly.

“This is the Mythosaur, an ancient creature our ancestors once rode. It is a symbol that belongs to all Mandalorians,” Din explains, gesturing a gloved fingertip at the shiny object.

You see now that the metallic outline appears to be the skull of a creature you have never heard before. With its sunken black eye sockets and intimidating, sharp features; the Mythosaur is a little intimidating. Still, you are mesmerised by its pointy teeth and long tusks. It is quite unlike anything you have ever seen. You run your thumb over the ridges, enjoying the sensation of the metal in your hand.

"I had it forged by my tribe's Armorer from the excess beskar of my new armour," Din explains, "The chain is taken from a strip of my bandolier, too."

"The craftsmanship..." you whisper, awestruck, "It's beautiful."

Then, Din says something which catches you completely off-guard.

“I want you to be part of my Clan, cyare,” Din announces.

Your mouth falls open. You look up at Din, stunned at his declaration. He does not want to leave you behind or cast you out. He wants you to be with him forever. You begin to feel the rumbling of tears somewhere deep inside your gut. You almost allow yourself to smile.

Almost.

Your moment of happiness shatters when you realise joining Din's Clan likely comes with an expectation to be Mandalorian. You hope the necklace does not come with the assumption of committing yourself to something you remain unsure that you want for yourself.

Yet bringing that up to Din would surely disappoint him, a terrible prospect. His Way is of utmost importance to him.

“But, Din… I’m not Mandalorian,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears as you remind him of your differences.

“It doesn’t matter,” Din shakes his head.

"Are you sure?" you breathe, stunned.

"I'm positive, cyare. You can take this necklace to any Mandalorian and say my name. If you present this to a Mandalorian covert and tell them Din Djarin set you, they will ensure you are protected and safe for as long as you need. No matter where you are in the galaxy.”

“Even though I’m not Mandalorian?” you whisper, astonished.

“Yes. One does not have to walk The Way in order to be protected by us," Din nods.

You are stunned. For so long, you had mistaken Mandalorian covertness for exclusion. You had believed they disliked and distrusted anyone who did not follow their way of life. Now you realise that you had entirely misconstrued their seclusion. Mandalorians, it transpires, are fiercely protective over anyone they care about, an honour not restricted to their own kind.

"After what happened, I want to feel reassured by knowing that you would have somewhere to turn to for refuge if something like that were ever to happen again. More than that, I want you…” Din sighs, steadying himself. “I want you to be part of my Clan,” he adds, his voice full of certainty.

“I couldn't possibly be worthy of such a thing,” you shake your head, unable to meet his gaze, "I shot one nerfherder in self-defence and look at the toll it took on me," you scoff, fiddling with the necklace and avoiding Din's gaze.

Din is unsatisfied with your words. He brings his hand to your chin and tilts it upwards until your eyes are level with the steely gaze of his dark T-visor.

“You are absolutely worthy,” Din adds with finality and certainty in his voice that causes your chest to constrict, “You have shown as much fight and resolve as any Mandalorian warrior would be proud of. You may not be Mandalorian, but you have our spirit. Our manda, our soul. You do not have to be Mandalorian to be loved by one. So, it would be the honour of my life if you would join my Clan, cyare,” Din adds solemnly.

He takes his hand from under your chin and balls it into a fist. Then he raises his clenched fist to his chestplate and holds it over his heart. He bows his head in your direction, wordlessly demonstrating his affection for you.

With his beautiful words and deferent actions, how could you refuse such an offer?

“Then, I will happily join your clan, Din Djarin,” you whisper.

You watch with curiosity as Din takes the necklace from your hand. Then, he softly places a gloved hand on your shoulder and gently turns you around. You realise what he is doing when the pendant slides down over your chest. You smile as you feel the cool metal make contact with your skin through the cloth of the simple clothes you wear. The thin leather is a comforting presence around your neck, especially when combined with the weight of the Mythosaur.

You turn around to face Din once again. You are unable to prevent the grin that spreads across your features. For the first time since that terrifying encounter with that ghastly man, you feel a true sense of tranquillity. You no longer find yourself plagued by fear for the future.

You realise that you should probably make some profound speech of gratitude. Instead, you sigh in contentment as you stand before Din. You are too happy to find words, perfectly content merely to stand before the man you adore. A man whom, thanks to the necklace you wear around your neck, you are now bound to.

Din brings his hands to your sides, resting them against your body as his thumbs rub fond circles into your hips. There is no fear, no uncertainty anymore.

The future for you and Din is bright.

Din eventually sighs fondly, cupping your chin with his gloved hand.

“It suits you,” he nods in approval.

You smile at the gesture and turn your lips into his fingers, placing a kiss on the soft leather there. Then, Din brings your forehead to his helmet in a gesture he has assured you is akin to a kiss in his eyes. For now, at least, it is the only way he can kiss you.

You stay like that for a few moments.

Eventually, Din's deep voice breaks the silence.

“Ner aliit,” Din whispers. Then adds in basic, for the benefit of your ears:

“My family.”

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #i had a blast writing this on the whole even if getting it juuuuust right did at times make me want to tear my arms off #and beat myself to death with them #but no like honestly writing is so fun!!!!!!!!!#anyway hope i succeeded and you enjoyed this one!!!!

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hayatheauthor · 29 days

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So when Israel does it it’s ‘self defence’ but when Iran does it it’s terrorism? At this point I’m not even surprised by western media hypocrisy

#hayatheauthor #iran #iran news #israel #palestine war #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

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tsunami-of-tears · 1 month

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Mission Accomplished

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 4 (Adventure)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Despite the Inner Circle’s best efforts, the throuple continues to fight their affection for each other. To help things along, Rhys sends the group on a fake mission (unbeknownst to them). Of course - everything goes horribly wrong.

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.4K

Warnings: angst; violence; injury; animal attack.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

Weeks had passed since the incident with the love potion, and you’d given up on trying to figure out where it came from.

Despite the night of passion, your relationship with Cassian and Azriel remained mostly unchanged, albeit slightly more awkward. You were grateful to still be able to call them your friends - joking around with Cassian and your quiet chats with Azriel were your favourite parts of the day.

You felt torn. You loved both males equally and didn’t want to come between their longstanding friendship. You didn’t want to have to choose between them.

Their visits to your clinic had gotten less frequent, but Cassian insisted you needed some basic training.

“Let me at least teach you some self-defence,” Cassian pouts at you for about the fiftieth time.

You sigh, but smile as you roll your eyes. “Okay fine, it can’t hurt. But I’m no warrior, and I have no desire to be.”

“I know, the only thing you’ve slain is my heart,” Cassian jests. “But,” he says, taking on a more serious tone, “I don’t expect you to fight in battle, I want you to be able to defend yourself if Azriel or I’m not around.”

————

Rhysand

Mor waltzes into the office and throws herself on the plush couch. “Gods… They are even dumber than we thought,” she exclaims. “I really thought the potion would get things moving.”

Rhys runs his hand through his hair. “I know,” he agrees. “I’m sending them on a training exercise. Hopefully some time away will help them figure things out.”

————

Reader

You’re on your first-ever mission for the Night Court, camped deep in the forest of the Illyrian Steppes.

You’d been informed that there were some Illyrian camps causing trouble in the area. You weren’t sure how your skills would help, but you were on standby in case anyone got injured.

After a long day of hiking and scouting with little results, you’re setting up camp for the night. You stand over the small campfire, boiling water to sanitise your equipment.

The loud crack of a branch breaking sounds behind you, followed by a low growl.

You turn around slowly and find yourself face-to-face with a giant wolf. It’s enormous, towering over you. And those teeth… The sharp canines are exposed as it snarls at you. Your veins chill with fear and a sharp scream rips from your throat.

You cautiously take a step back from the wolf, narrowly avoiding the fire. You don’t dare break eye contact. You try to stand tall, holding the only thing within reach - a ladle - brandishing it like a sword, like Azriel and Cassian taught you.

You send a silent prayer to the Mother that one of your friends can save you before you become dinner.

————

Cassian

Cassian sprints from the other side of the clearing at the sound of your screams, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees you wielding a ladle against the angry beast. The terror in your eyes strikes something deep within him, stoking the golden embers to life inside his chest.

His soul erupts in fury, and the deep need to protect.

A battle cry sounds from Cassian’s lips as he charges towards the wolf with his knife out.

————

Azriel

Azriel hears your scream before his shadows alert him of trouble.

Adrenaline courses through his veins. The only thought in his mind is of saving you.

He winnows straight to you. Right in front of the wolf. Within a second of his shadows dispersing, Azriel feels something sharp in his left side.

He looks down and sees a hunting knife sticking out of his side, and a wide-eyed Cassian stepping back in shock.

————

Reader

You feel completely helpless as you watch the scene unfold in front of you.

One minute, Cassian was hurling his knife towards the creature. The next, Azriel had winnowed right in the path of the blade.

The wolf turns to look at the two Illyrians, who freeze under its yellow gaze. It huffs out a breath before turning on its heel and prowling back into the forest.

Azriel shakes his head, hand going straight to the blade protruding from his side, “I can’t believe you stabbed me.”

“You practically winnowed into my knife,” Cassian exclaims.

“Why didn’t you go for your sword? That knife would’ve bounced right off its hide,” Azriel bristles, irritation growing under his skin.

You leap right into action, stepping in as the tension between the males starts to rise. “Looks like you did need me here after all,” you say, trying to diffuse the situation. “Azriel, sit on that log. I’ll just gather what I need.”

Cassian stands back with his arms folded across his chest as you work on removing the blade and patching up the wound.

“It’s not too deep, look it’s already clotting. It might just be a bit sore tonight, but you’re going to be fine.” You attempt to give Azriel your best reassuring smile.

————

The rest of the night was strained. Both males were very quiet, only speaking in one-word responses. The silence was stifling, with the only sounds coming from the crackling fire and the scraping of cutlery on plates.

Unable to handle the creeping tension any longer, you retire to your tent early, leaving the males to work out whatever issues they have.

——��—

Cassian

Azriel could hardly look at Cassian, and Cassian couldn’t bear it.

His brother was staring into the dwindling fire, as he sharpened his blades. The sharp singing of stone on metal cut through the air between them.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” Cassian admits. “I was overcome by this need to protect. I was blinded by fear. I had to protect Y/N.”

Azriel finally looks up from his work, his expression unreadable before returning to sharpening his daggers.

Cassian runs his hand through his hair. He figured Azriel deserved the truth. “Y/N is my mate. The bond snapped when I saw her standing there, holding that damned ladle like it would’ve done anything.”

Azriel freezes, a mixture of confusion and shock in his eyes. “That’s not possible,” he says softly.

“It’s the truth, I felt it.”

“No… The mating bond snapped for me not long after I brought her to the Night Court,” Azriel states.

“How? We can’t both be her mates, can we?”

Azriels gaze is captured by something behind Cassian. Cassian turns to see what his brother is looking at and sees Y/N standing there.

————

Reader

You couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned, replaying the earlier incident over and over in your head.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by hushed voices outside your tent. The mention of your name grabs your attention, and you still your movements to glean what the males are discussing.

“Y/N is my mate,” says an exasperated Cassian.

Your entire world slows on its axis.

All thoughts eddy from your mind except one - your mate.

You quietly exit your tent, walking towards the males around the fire, when Azriel’s words stop you in your tracks.

“The mating bond snapped for me not long after I brought her to the night court.”

Both of them.

Both males whom you loved with all your heart were your mates.

Was this the Cauldron’s idea of a cruel joke?

You walk towards them, your mates, and the glimmering bond between you starts to appear. You can see the two strands coming from your heart, connecting your soul to each of the males before you.

As if they can feel your presence, they both look up at you.

“Y/N” Cassian murmurs, your name a prayer against his lips.

You touch your heart as you feel the deep longing flow down the twin bonds.

“Both of you?” you whisper.

“It’s rare, but I’ve read about similar occurrences,” Azriel admits, rising to his feet.

“But, how am I supposed to choose?” You say. Tears well in your eyes and your lip quivers at the thought of rejecting either male.

Cassian and Azriel exchange glances and a small nod.

“Who said anything about choosing?” Azriel asks.

“I know it’s a lot, you don’t have to decide anything here and now,” Cassian chimes in, reaching for your hand. “We’d be honoured to share you, if you’ll have us both.” Azriel steps forward, taking your other hand in his. “It won’t always be easy, but I’m willing to try for you. Truthfully, there’s no one else I’d rather be bound with,” Azriel finishes, meeting Cassian’s eye.

The tears that threatened to spill pool over the edge of your lashes. You nod earnestly as you send all your love down the bonds to your mates.

You pull them into a tight embrace, your bodies fitting together perfectly, like the final piece to a puzzle, the answer to a question you’d been asking your entire life.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @therealmoonstone

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d4 #poly!acotar #cazriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf

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samijami · 2 months

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After accidentally running into the Pro-Israel side of Tumblr, media, and politics, I can safely say,

-They blame Hamas for the murder of children and infants in the war, creating illustrations of propaganda showing such. Ex) a drawing of a Hamas soldier with a baby stroller, holding it infront of him as he ducks behind it for cover and shoots at an Israeli soldier, who is ducking infront of another stroller as a human bodysheild to protect it.

-They justify the war by the excuse of 'war is war' or 'Hamas started it'/'Hamas are all terrorists'. And don't even elaborate or back up how that is true.

-The Israeli soldiers are 'blowing off steam' when they are shitting in their own tanks, posing with Gazan women's lingerie and mannequins, and recording videos of them actively committing war crimes.

-The murders they commit of innocent children and civilians are justified as 'Hamas caused this'/'Everyone in Palestine is a participant in terrorism or terroristic beliefs'/'Palestine could end this if they gave up the hostages'/'Palestine started it by taking the hostages and committing terroristic war crimes'. All from people who don't know what they're talking about and/or have seen very little on the entire situation.

-'The entire Pro-Palestinian movement is the most Anti-American and antisemetic thing right now and is absolutely disgusting.' -Steve Bannon, War Room: Pandemic, 2024. He worked for Trump in the Whitehouse before getting arrested, and promptly started his own republican television show (that my father watches 24/7--to put this statement into context of what this man spouts: everytime he refers to a trans person, he says 'freak'. He calls women 'females' with the most disgusting tone of voice like he is physically repulsed by the idea of them. He supports the man in the situation of a woman being the victim. He claimed to be an advocate and that he was 'actively assisting black people' because he said rude shit about a lady judge in 'defence' over a black person, and so much more).

And so much other shit, it's pathetic. The true art of indoctrination and lack of evidence shown to Israeli people and even children, is sickening. If Lilly's (and other's) self immolation wasn't enough, it's being put down as an act of a 'psychotic man having been indoctrinated by leftist media'. I'm sorry, Lilly was an active member of the US force, and she was tired of what she was seeing, and could've even potentially have been required to partake in (given Biden sent American troops to assist Israel). Her act of self immolation was as heroic as any other martyrdom act committed during the 1900's in the name of equality between races. It's a different century, but as those were viewed and put into history as heroism, so should Lilly. She died for her belief that this is a disgusting genocide.

We have all the evidence we need and these stupid childish ass soldiers taking their little happy ass videos and posing for selfies only demonises them more. If any historian looked back 20 years from now, they'll be disgusted.

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! 🇵🇸

(Btw I used Lilly, she/her, since it is believed that Aaron Bushnell was apart of the LGBTQIA+ community and never came out, due to her social medias going by Lilly and presenting as a woman).

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starlightshadowsworld · 4 months

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11.01.2024 The International Court of Justice says Israel's argument of "self defence" is not relevant to this case.

[Video transcript:

I should address the question of self defence. In its advisory in the war case, the court noted that the threat that Israel argued justified the construction of the war.

Was not imputable to a foreign state but ementated from the territory.

The occupied Palestinian territory, over which Israel itself exercises control.

For those reasons the court decided as a matter of international law, the right to self defence under Article 51 of the Charter. The UN Charter, had no relevance in such circumstances.

20 days ago the Security Council affirmed yet again that Gaza is occupied territory. Though Israel refers to a complete withdrawal from Gaza, it had retained control over Gaza.

Over access by land, sea and air and over key governmental functions and supplies of water and electricity.

The tightness of its grip may have varied but no one can doubt the continuous reality of Israel's grip on Gaza.

The Courts legal holding of 2004 holds good and a similar point is to be made here. What Israel is doing in Gaza, it is doing in terrority under its own control.

It's actions are enforcing it's occupation. The law on self defence under Article 51 of the UN Charter had no application.]

#free palestine #free gaza #anti israel #anti zionisim #icj hearing #icj #international court of justice #south africa #palestine #Gaza

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captain-tch · 7 months

Text

Closet (Daryl Dixon x PlatonicFem!Reader)

You had been hiding a part of yourself for years, it only took the world to end to finally speak your truth.

You stood on Aaron and Eric's porch, bracing yourself against the railing. They had prepared dinner for yourself and Daryl, as payment for bringing some spices back from a supply run. It was a lovely gesture, and it made you hate yourself even more when you couldn't stand to be in their company for too long. It was the hand holding, the loving gazes, the inside jokes. It was the way they shared gentle touches, so openly and so in love. It was the kisses and the laughs and the smiles.

It was hard to recognise the nasty feeling festering in your gut. It turned your gaze green and made yourself bitter.

You were jealous.

You shook your head, leaning back, trying to let the night wind wipe your sadness away. You wanted to push past this feeling - Aaron and Eric were lovely people, good people, yet you felt yourself turning sour the longer you spent in their company.

The door clicked softly behind you. You jerked, frantically wiping a hand at your cheeks. You turned, expecting to see Aaron or Eric wondering why you hadn't come back in after twenty minutes, but it was Daryl. You smiled weakly, secretly grateful that you didn't have to endure being in the presence of the lovebirds. Even on their own they managed to ooze cupid's scent.

"Hey." Daryl stood beside you, turning to look up at the night sky. The stars twinkled back. "Beautiful night."

You nodded in agreement, attempting to muster the energy to talk, to explain your disappearance.

"Food was good."

You nodded again.

Daryl sighed, playing with his fingers, tugging softly at the cuticles. "Look, ya know I'm no good at this small talk shit. I think we've been friends long enough to skip that crap, and you've been acting like this ever since we got here. Distant."

You bit your lower lip, taking comfort in gnawing at the skin. Your heart wanted to spill it all, to let loose your truth, but your fear kept you trapped.

"Did Aaron or Eric do somethin' to ya?"

You were that shocked at the thought you snapped your head to his. "No. They've been nothing but kind."

"Then what the hell is it?"

"I -" You averted your gaze, keeping your eyes glued firmly to the wood of the porch. "I can't tell you." You muttered, hating how water splashed on your cheeks. Your heart pounded in your chest.

Daryl reached forward, softly grabbing you under the chin, turning you to face him. You tried to muster a smile, though it did nothing to hide the tears freely pouring down. "You're cryin'."

Your hand moved to your cheek absentmindedly, aggressively wiping the wet away. Defeated, you pulled yourself away from Daryl, slumping to the floor feeling as if the world was trying to pull you down.

A beat of silence passed, then two. You wanted to speak; the ball in your throat choked the words. "Whatever it is, ya can tell me."

You pulled your chin into your knees, shoulders sagging. Your chest felt tight, the possibility of letting the truth pass your lips stealing your breath. But then you spotted Daryl at the edge of your vision, his brows creased in concern. He was your closest friend, your greatest confidant. You had told him about your night terrors, and he slept beside you, a moment away, to protect you from the monsters haunting the land of dreams. You leaned on him when you had killed in self defence. You relied on him to watch your back on runs, and he hadn't failed you yet.

He hadn't outright spoken to you of his past; he had let his lips loosen more around you than anyone else. He showed you the cigarette burns - never his back. You never dared to ask, knowing that was one private terror he would spill in his own time.

This man would never judge you. He would never press for more if you weren't ready, and he definitely would never leave your side. He was your platonic soul mate.

You released a heavy breath, scooting along to make room for him. Your voice was as quiet as a mouse - as a hunter you knew he heard. "I've never told anyone."

Daryl was quiet, accepting your invitation and settling in beside you. He didn't move to comfort you; he sat close enough to know he was there.

You clenched your fingers into your palm, the pain of the nails biting into the skin distracting you for the self destructive thoughts whizzing around in your head. "I'm jealous of them."

"Why?"

He's going to walk away, your brain whispered. He's going to leave you and you will be all alone surrounded by people. He's going to sneer at you and ignore your existence.

A large, calloused hand pried your fingers out of their fists. The skin of your palms cried in relief, sharp indents speckled with blood released into the air. You looked up at Daryl, and at his hand.

You screamed at the voices in your mind, uttering the words you never spoke aloud. "Because they're living their truth, they're not afraid."

Daryl stared at your crumpled form, it taking a moment to sink in. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water - no one had ever told him this kind of thing before, he had no idea how to respond. Turns out Daryl didn't need to worry, because the moment you started talking you unlocked the door you had kept barred shut for years.

"I've known ever since I was a teenager, kept it as quiet as I could. I dated, but it never went past the first date. I couldn't... be myself, and I think it's because I couldn't accept myself, and I think my dates could sense that too." You laughed darkly. "You know how if you were applying for a job, you had to state your sexual orientation? I always put "prefer not to say" as I was afraid to admit to the world that I'm a lesbian." You looked at Daryl, trying to sense any shift in him. He hadn't started cursing you out or walked away. The doubting voices in your head quietened.

You sniffled. "I'm envious of their confidence. Their openness. Is that stupid?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, it's not."

"You know what the stupidest thing of all is?" You shook your head, "It's taken until the end of the world to admit out loud that I am a lesbian."

Daryl wrapped his arm around you, bringing you close. "Proud of ya."

You relished his warmth, the warmth of your best friends embrace eradicating those voices for good. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and you could tell him about a part of your life you had kept hidden for so long.

"Thanks."

Daryl squeezed the hug tighter around you. "Feel better?"

"Bit."

"Well, come on. Dessert is waiting." Daryl got to his feet, putting his hand out to you.

You gulped, looking at the hand, then him. "You don't think any different of me, do you?"

"Hell nah, you're still a dumbass in my eyes."

You snorted.

"And hey, I can be your wing man."

"I'd love to see that Daryl."

As you walked back into the warmth of Aaron and Eric's home, you felt a peace settle inside you. The conversation didn't solve your insecurity and anxiety, but you felt better having admitted your truth out loud to your best friend.

You were on a long journey to accept yourself, whilst dealing with the trials and tribulations an apocalypse could bring, but in that moment, you were happy.

In your mind you repeated I am a lesbian, a smile forming on your lips.

the walking dead masterlist

#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x platonic reader #twd #twd x reader #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #twd angst #the walking dead angst #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead x fem!reader #twd x fem!reader #daryl dixon x plantonic fem!reader

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madarasgirl · 3 months

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A Night for Hunting Ch.16 -Just Another Day in Paradise

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, soft yandere, pure sugary fluff, romance, slice-of-life, Valentine’s Day @alastorhazbin On AO3 Words: 4673

Happy Lunar New Year! It’s the Year of the Dragon, aka Dracula’s year.

This was meant to be Ch 17, but I swapped the order between the two chapters because I thought this made more chronologic sense. This chapter also fits the theme of Valentine's Day better! We’re mostly just catching up with what has happened since the Reader moved in before they go on a little date.

There is a lot of narration because I don't have the ability to write that much slice-of-life for Alucard since his in-canon states are usually sulking, violence, anger, emotional breakdown, and cockiness (to hide the emotional turmoil). He's a romantic, but the joys of normal living don't come to him that easily. Same goes for me trying to write it.

A number of months have passed and you were settling into your life at Hellsing, strange as it had become. You continued to work, but were also required to report for training three times a week, where you would proceed to get your butt kicked. Despite the muscle ache and fatigue, it felt good to feel your body getting stronger, even if it sucked to have Alucard see you getting pummelled by the old man Ferguson whenever the vampire happened to drop by and watch. Last week, you finally began firearms training after Captain Ferguson decided your self-defence will suffice for now at your beginner's level.

Alucard was not always at Hellsing. Sometimes he was sent away to other cities for ‘assignments’ for days at a time. When he was not called upon for his services, he would have ample free time, where he mostly stayed in his dungeon staring off into space while sipping his precious wine. It appeared these days, other favourite pastimes were for him to scheme up ways to spook you around the manor and chasing you around the courtyard for sport as you returned from work.

You were quickly learning to check your surroundings for his presence, such as the funny shadows in the corner and misplaced eyes peeking from under tables. You knew to brace for him suddenly coming at you through the walls. But the vampire never terrorized you down in the basement. Whenever you went to see him at night, he never came with the intention of frightening you. It seemed his lair was meant to be a refuge and he reinforced your visits by not scaring you off with negative associations with the place. As if you were Pavlov’s dog in training…

The jerk! He thought he had you in his back pocket already, didn't he?!

Still, you didn't venture into his dungeon nightly, even if wall lamps had been installed. It was just too uncomfortably eerie underground. The creeping darkness did not relinquish its clutches and every time you descended into the deep cold, it was difficult to shake the fear of the unseen despite knowing that Alucard would be at the end.

Absent from the dungeon was the sun, which you were mildly surprised to discover you needed, and experiencing it from your balcony was wonderful on the odd days when it wasn’t raining and the sky wasn’t grey with clouds. When you basked in the early morning rays of late winter, Alucard would wait patiently inside your room for you to leave the warm light behind and return to him. He would frequent your chamber when you didn't reciprocate his visits, so eventually you had blackout curtains installed in your windows such that he wouldn’t have to deal with the light.

Your internal clock now operated on its own timeline. Sometimes you were up during the day for errands or the odd morning shift, where Alucard would come watch you getting ready and then see you off. You could also be training late into the night or spending the witching hours with him. There was so little time to be idle.

With your sleep schedule all over the place, your circadian rhythm was likewise out of whack. When you nodded off in exhaustion in his arms or woke up in one of your beds, Alucard would hum to you occasionally when you were between consciousness and sleep, the enchanting baritone of his voice ushering you off into the safe realm of dreams or guiding you back into the world of wakefulness. He told you it was a lullaby Wallachian mothers used to sing to their babies to lull them to sleep.

Nightmares were a distant memory. In fact, you never even experienced anything resembling an unsettling dream since moving into Hellsing. You suspected it had something to do with Alucard guarding your dreams, though he did not affirm this. You never expected your lover to do this for you and you thought it very sweet of him. Under the watchful eyes and gentle caresses of the vampire king, you slept more soundly than ever whenever you were at last given the opportunity.

Your most cherished moments were when you read together at night, when you’d sit just close enough to touch, but both be occupied with your own material. Too many times in the past, he came to watch you read. As it became too unnerving, you finally offered to lend him the first books of the series you were reading if he was interested. It was a cosmic injustice that the undead cat was capable of devouring literature nonstop night and day until he reached the end of a book. No eating or resting or even moving from his seat, except the times when he'd pause to fold you in half and–

You had precious little free time, but there were perks to living at an estate like Hellsing. Delicious meals were prepared and laundry services were provided when you didn’t want to do these chores yourself. When you wanted to cook your own food for Alucard and yourself, a smaller, fully equipped kitchen was available so you could be his home chef. What a quality of life improvement!

You sighed, smiling to yourself as you stretched out in bed and recalled the whirlwind of the past months. At long last, you had a day off to yourself. Alucard was somewhere and you were excited to leave the premises to venture out into the city. Not only would you temporarily escape the polite small-talk and gossip of the serving staff, you could finally also get some fresh air away from the stringent rules of this military compound.

Alucard shadowing you was now a familiar comfort so you knew you were not alone, but there was a purpose to your trip today and with him absent, it was the perfect chance to go.

There was a bounce to your step as you made your way through one of countless identical hallways with freedom on your mind. One painting after another passed by. You halted, your hair standing on end at once when your eyes skimmed over a detail on the wall by chance. Crimson glowed from the irises in a noble’s portrait. Letting out a breath, you put a hand over your chest and scowled at Alucard.

The eyes curled with laughter. “You are becoming quite adept at seeking out my presence.” The shadows peeled from the painting and the towering vampire stepped out to stare down at you. “You cannot escape from me. I will always find you wherever you go.” He announced with a self-assured expression.

“I wasn’t even running this time,” you replied with an indignant shrug and tugged the straps to your bag higher over your shoulders. “I already have plans today. Find something else to do with yourself that doesn't involve bothering me.” There was a glint in his eyes as that smirk grew wider.

Your brows twitched. “I don’t need an armed escort!”

He was following you down the hall, so you ignored him as you kept walking towards the foyer, now used to the way his smooth gait made him appear as if he was almost floating. When the infuriating vampire remained at your heel several paces later, you spun, bristling as you tried to shoo him off like a pest. “Must you follow me? I’ll be back soon and it’s daytime!” You asked him.

He caught your hands with a light touch and brought his face close to yours, softly rubbing circles on your palms with his thumbs.

“You are my responsibility,” he whispered.

It was Sir Integra’s command. Vermillion pinned you to the spot and you glared back, pressing your lips together until you broke eye contact first and stared at the carpeted floor. You were his.

Alucard had already decided to join his human on the day’s adventures despite your protests. And so you ended up going shopping with an ancient peacock who didn’t know how not to attract attention.

--------------------

Colourful displays lined both sides of the boulevard and people were queuing outside several of the most popular boutiques. The atmosphere was electric with the air buzzing with life and excited chatter. You would have shared in the high spirits of the strangers around you, if it weren’t for your flashy companion souring the mood.

You were an idiot. You spent so much time researching which specialty stores you wanted to visit, you made no alternate plans in case anyone from Hellsing decided to keep tabs on you. Worst of all, it had to be Alucard. There would actually be no issue if it was anyone but him. All you wanted to do was to buy him a gift! How could anyone so old be this clueless?!

The flamboyant vampire towered more than a foot over nearly every person around him and people were giving him space. The bright red of his fedora and trench coat screamed, but who were you trying to fool? Alucard would still stand out wearing anything else in each of his forms. It was in his nature for the curtains to be drawn for him on stage.

The problem was you didn’t appreciate the attention as people gawked at Alucard, even if you couldn’t deny that it was convenient to have the crowd part to make way for the pair of you coming through. You stewed as you tried to think up a way to get him to give you a few minutes alone, but every swoosh of his duster only exacerbated your ire. With his telepathy, he should know what you were up to, so any element of surprise was already ruined.

“I can scent your frustration,” he stated with his signature grin plastered to his face.

“Why yes. Ever since I became incarcerated at Hellsing, it’s been ‘go go go’ all day, everyday. And now on my only full day off in quite a while, I’m stuck with you. Can’t a lady get some privacy?” You railed to air your grievances.

“You are not a prisoner,” he murmured with a frown while gazing down at you. Unreadable golden pools swirled lazily behind tinted lenses.

You rolled your eyes and was about to remind him of all your lost privileges.

“You are not a prisoner,” he repeated with his eyes narrowed, “You are mine.”

You jolted, eyes widening before your mouth clamped shut. The vampire was so casual with throwing the assertion around, especially in public. Of course you knew it already. He told you multiple times before and frequently referred to you as ‘his human,’ ‘his Darling,’ or something to that effect.

Alucard’s gloved hand remained on the small of your back as he guided you through the throngs, feeling strangely comforted by the claim of possession. It was the same way as he would through the manor, particularly on nights you were feeling intensely uncertain about your place at Hellsing, he would proudly let the world know you were with him.

You wanted to melt into the ground at the thought that being Alucard’s was merely a euphemism for being his prisoner.

Lifting your eyes as you noted the cross-section and stalled, the background noise of the crowd disappeared as you became the only two people in the world. The people flowed around you. You fidgeted from foot to foot as you looked back up at your vampire.

“We’re here,” you mumbled.

Alucard’s gaze snapped from you to the storefront. A chocolate store?

“It was meant to be a surprise.” You muttered with a deflated pout. It really wasn’t that big of a deal for Alucard to accompany your outing, but you wanted to keep the small components under wraps until you were ready to present them together.

When you looked back up, your view was obscured by a huge white palm. Alucard’s hand landed on your head and he ruffled your hair. His expression was warm. “I will wait here,” he said.

--------------------

You made relatively quick work of shopping inside, though you had a blast conversing with the owner and choosing the chocolates for your……boyfriend…

Your choices were loaded with coffee and alcohol-infused truffles. Alucard seemed the sort to enjoy the various champagne, whiskey, and espresso flavours.

Making your way through the patterned glass exit with the fancy bag filled with premium confections, waves of irritation washed over you upon seeing several young women making eyes at Alucard from a short distance. Luckily for them, they weren’t daring enough to approach the strange man. You pushed the feeling down and went up to him, whose gaze was already fixed on you before you opened the door.

“Little one, shall we depart to your next destination? The sun is rather fatiguing.” He greeted you with a grin as you took his arm.

“I apologize for keeping you past your bedtime. I told you to stay home,” you scoffed while rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you act more like a vampire and stay out of the sun like Seras?”

The original vampire lifted a brow at you. “The police girl refuses to drink and as such, she has not yet become a true vampire.”

You peered up and let out an exasperated sigh, “Stop calling her that. It’s not nice! She has a name and you’re always too harsh with her.”

“I’m not nice.”

You snorted at the amused vampire as a teen on a hoverboard charged closer at speed until his eyes popped at the sight of the crimson giant ahead, swerving to avoid Alucard and nearly crashing to the side. Expletives were hurled his way by other pedestrians as you and your vampire left the scene without a second glance.

“Little human, you referred to Hellsing as ‘home.’”

“I did…” You tilted your head with puzzlement, not even noticing when the word slipped as you were conversing. When did you start thinking of that place as such when the lifestyle there remained so foreign? You glanced up to study your lover’s face.

Alucard purred softly, the image of satisfaction. Up against him, only you would feel the vibrations of the rumble. "If you were my fledgling, I would not hesitate to feed you. We would have an eternity for me to teach you the ways of our kind."

There was heat in his eyes and you quickly looked away, so flustered your eyes darted everywhere except back at him. You weren’t prepared for ruminating such prospects nor this discussion again. Your companion chuckled at your reaction as he led you through a quieter street.

People meandered leisurely, stopping to point at the latest statement releases of the season. You ambled along awkwardly, caught up in the reveries of your own life for some distance until something in a display caught your eyes. Oh! Your interest had been piqued for months; you even spent hours on researching the specs and other alternatives to this product. You turned your head to stare at it as you passed.

Alucard stopped.

You barely noticed him as your eyes watered at the price until he was slipping away and heading to the entrance.

“Wait! No!” Grabbing onto his wrists, you tried to yank him away from behind. “It’s way too expensive for what it is!”

He took another step forward, dragging you with him, so you raced around to his front to block his approach.

“If you desire this item, I shall purchase it for you.”

“Alucard, stop! I really don’t need it!” Money was no object to the eldritch terror, but you put your hands to his chest and applied pressure to try nudging him away, to no avail. Several couples who were close slowed to observe the spectacle. A young woman tittered at what she undoubtedly thought was a cute exchange between a dark, dashing stranger and his romantic interest.

“Sweet, you should seize the things you desire, but if you are unwilling, I shall, as my offerings to you.”

Seize–

Your eyes bugged and you giggled sheepishly at the Medieval man in front of you. You pushed at his chest to try steering him away again with a big smile. Alucard’s brows furrowed.

“Something is amusing?”

You bursted out laughing, but attempted to maintain some decorum, not wanting to cause any more of a scene than you already were.

You whispered so only he heard you. “Alucard, you’re so silly! Sometimes people browse stuff only because the idea of those material goods bring them some joy, not because we actually want or need them. Have you forgotten what it is like to be human? It seems you have a lot to remember about human emotions.” Still snickering lightly, you tugged the large vampire down to lay a peck to his forehead.

You beamed at Alucard before running ahead to the next store, leaving him behind with a stunned expression.

--------------------

You had the wine and the chocolate. And Alucard suggested a much better destination to enjoy them together than your original idea of having them in his dungeon with just the two of you, though you had to make a detour to pick up plastic wine cups.

The rambling hills of Hampstead Heath rolled in tumbling waves over hundreds of acres that embraced ponds and woodlands. You passed the drive leading to the historic grounds of the Kenwood Estate. As beautiful as the building was, the idea was to escape from British mansions for the day.

Dense reeds swayed in coordination with the wind, thick and with the likeness of a woman batting her lashes at a lover. Waterfowl were returning to the ponds and the occasional nature photographer stopped to capture these winged marvels. Alucard took you through trails down the east end of the enormous park, sticking close to the ponds until you reached a clearing, and suddenly, the tranquil stroll through nature exploded with life.

It had been years since you last sat at this lovely hilltop viewpoint overlooking London’s skyline. Couples abounded in every direction. It seemed romance was in the air this mild, sunny day. Some younger pairs frolicked in a merry gambol while others sat together head on shoulder to enjoy the spectacular view. It was so warm there were even families picnicking.

Yes, this was superior to that dingy basement.

Nostalgia hit you hard as you took in the views of home. You used to live in that neighbourhood roughly over there. Day in and day out, you’d make your commute between work and home. And Alucard used to chase you around that area, though most of it was hidden from this vantagepoint. Turning to your lover, you found him lost in thought as well as he gazed into the distance, recalling a past brimming with events unknown to you.

The midnight essence of his locks billowed gently with the breeze. He was so pale. Despite his conviction about hating the sun, once again, the light casted his arresting features with a divine glow. Like a fallen angel, or something even holier.

From out of the blue, the hilarious image of Alucard as Cupid bubbled up. He was a lanky deity draped in loose robes, wielding a bow and shooting arrows at random pairs of people for his entertainment. That they would fall in love was merely an accidental by-product of his fun. You squashed the ridiculous idea hopefully before Alucard saw it too, but let out a chortle. God of Love? Him? Who were you kidding? Your vampire’s gaze slid sideways to you with a slight fanged smile before he turned his attention back to the cityscape.

The mellow warmth of the unseasonal weather gave you comfort. You came to the realization your previous qualms about the obstacles of being with Alucard were fading. Like leftover winter sludge melting away with the balminess of spring, replaced by your gentle, simmering affection for the vampire. Spring will arrive early, and the barren trees will likely come into bud soon as the season of new beginnings comes into being.

As always, Alucard grounded you too. Watching him stand alone, all of your doubt suddenly went away somehow. You were getting used to the late nights, early mornings, and the smarting bruises from physical training. It wasn’t awful at Hellsing as long as you had him.

You opted to forego Alucard’s old-fashioned way of taking his offered arm and laced your fingers with his instead. Putting your other hand over the back of Alucard’s, you exhaled. “You probably already knew of all my plans since you spoiled the surprise yourself by poking around in my head.”

You chose a grassy spot where the hill swelled higher to sit and your vampire joined you, throwing his spidery legs straight out as he leaned back on his hands.

“I know of the saint.” He glanced over. “Such an inane occasion.” To need the excuse of some saint’s legacy from over a millennium ago in order to celebrate one’s lover was indeed absurd.

The corners of your lips lifted. “Have you never celebrated Valentine’s before, Alucard?”

“Time spent with you is already the greatest gift.”

His stare was intense and your expression softened, your chest tightening at the sincerity of your lover’s statement, no longer feeling like being a brat. Time was indeed your limiting factor. You met halfway and kissed him with an extended, delicate touch to show him you felt the same way and he nuzzled you, as he usually did.

Yours.

“Feed me,” he murmured as you parted with a soft, dreamy look. This again. You rolled your eyes at his demand, but complied.

After letting the vampire open his gift himself, you went with a champagne truffle to start –to commemorate the occasion, but also everything that transpired between you. How far you’d come from where you began.

You sucked in a breath as the cold muscle of Alucard’s tongue slipped around your finger after he took the treat. He licked the melting chocolate off your fingertips with a deep rumble.

“We’re in public!” You gasped and ripped your hand away as he lapped at his lips with a satisfied grin. He sniffed the air.

“Scotch next,” he said.

“Only if you’ll stop being a creep!”

The vampire chuckled as he helped open the red wine. He turned the bottle over to read the label before decanting into the plastic cups. “Ah –an excellent choice.” He eyed the box as you referred to the legend to find his choice of scotch truffle. Not everyone could simply sniff out what was what from several feet away.

You offered the next piece and he bit into it while holding your gaze. Not bothered by his antics this time, you tossed the other half in your own mouth and savoured the flavours melting into your tongue. Swirling your glass, you took a sip of wine when the chocolate passed, pleased to find the flavours went well together.

Beside you, Alucard sampled his own glass and let out a contented moan. You shimmied closer to rest your head on his shoulder in imitation of the other couples around you and peeked up at him again with a tiny smile. It really was pleasant to see him this relaxed and carefree.

He fed you a strawberry truffle, leaving his index finger on your lips while you chewed, only to stroke your bottom lip after you swallowed. You broke physical contact first, sure the two of you were the subjects of greater scrutiny to whoever watched you long enough.

“This is why I can’t be in public with you!”

Your companion’s face broke into a wicked smirk. “Still heeding what others may think?”

“If you’d be normal, I wouldn’t have this issue. Not everyone enjoys being at the centre of attention.”

Alucard’s eyes narrowed into slits, though the smile now split his face in half. He was up to something and you were worried to find out what.

He stood abruptly and extended a hand to you, which you hesitantly took with a suspicious side-eye as he lifted you to your feet and you dusted off imaginary dirt from your bottom.

“Would my lady care for a dance?” The hypnotic timbre to his voice distracted you from the question.

Your mouth fell open when it dawned after a moment. You just told him! Centre of attention!

A busker was playing the cello in the park, the sweet melody carrying far into the distance. You knew all the lyrics to this song’s instrumental version.

The vampire guided your left hand to his outer arm to form a closed hold, a playful glint in his scarlet gaze. “H-here? I can’t–” you protested.

He was already moving. It was as if he pushed you along for the first few steps and you faltered, still reeling from the turn of events, but the vampire held you steady. Stand up straight, support your own weight, maintain muscle tone. Keep your weight at the front of your feet. The ballroom teachings from a lifetime ago whispered from memory.

Alucard was an experienced dancer. He led you expertly with fluid motions, drawing you in and nudging you away with clear signals that made it easy to follow. You felt the connection between your bodies. You twirled when he lifted your arm in an arc, spun into his arm backwards when he willed it. You stepped in time to the same rhythm as the background faded.

One step closer.

The chords sang out harmonious and clear. He was speeding up. Gradually, you danced faster and faster, waltzing to the beat in Alucard’s mind, a whirlwind of feet and swirling trench coats under the afternoon sun. You stepped backwards quickly as he rushed forward boldly, all your attention given to him for you to keep up. As was his attention dedicated to you.

Never once did he step on you, one of his feet was offset precisely between yours whenever he brought you flush with him. Never once did he look away from you or let you lose your balance. Who would have expected this wild beauty to be able to take his battle finesse and flow like water transformed by music?

Only you and him existed in the world, the colours and promises of a future together swelling your chest with joy that was at last blooming from a once dormant seed, one that only began to sprout in recent times. Despite his annoying quirks, you could envision a lifetime with this man. The idyllic routine of late was not so bad.

The song was nearing its end. The vampire picked you off the ground by the legs, the other hand around your back and spun with you cradled in his arms effortlessly. Your shit-eating grin matched your lover’s.

You finished your dance with one last spin and you curtsied to the audience that gathered. Your heart beat fast as you laughed and jumped at Alucard, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Please don’t let this end. You lost your reservations with the exhilaration, pressing your lips harder against the cool flesh and taking the time to breathe him in as the surroundings returned.

Looking around, you heard cheers, whooping, and clapping for your performance as you caught your breath. That was so surreal, but it was actually a lot of fun.

The music of your laughter chimed in Alucard’s ears and mind, clear as a ringing bell and pure and indulgent. It was your jubilation in his chest, the innocent joy at being with him. There was a warm fuzzy feeling that flared as you caught his gaze again. Cupping the back of your head, his gaze grew tender and he leaned over to make doling out your affection on him easier on you. Your excitement wafted off your skin. His bangs formed a veil as he pressed your foreheads together and committed this moment to memory.

You were simply too precious for this world.

~To Be Continued~

Next Chapter- True Bravery

Notes:

The material goods Alucard uses are all luxury when it comes to weaponry, costing millions of pounds and a sizable dent in Integra’s budget. But Alucard can also be a minimalist and existed in less than Spartan conditions in the Hellsing basement before Reader. When it comes to his Reader, I think all Alucard would want is her time, touch, and her attention. He doesn’t need expensive gifts from her and would be displeased if she went out of her way to get something exorbitant for him. I actually wanted her to take Alucard to see a Broadway musical for a date, but writing a chapter following a live show’s plot and their interactions was too large of a task.

Reader is finally understanding Alucard's point whenever he declares that she is his and how it’s not a bad thing. It’s not merely a statement of possession, but also a promise.

Please read: Is anyone interested in reading some Vladcard bondage smut? I was staring at a pic of him and then BOOM! Horny! A potential Interlude 3 is brewing. Let me know either in the comments or on my poll to vote anonymously for a few more days. If this isn’t sexy, I’ll just keep my fantasy to myself, let it run wild, and continue with the storyline.

The above fanart is among my favourite images of Alucard that exists. It was created by the incredibly talented ケースワベ【K-SUWABE】 on Twitter (X). Thought it was perfect for the contents of this chapter.

#alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard hellsing #alucard fanfiction #alucard #hellsing ultimate #my comfort vampire #vampire boyfriend #happy valentines

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