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derinwrites · 2 days

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The Three Commandments

The thing about writing is this: you gotta start in medias res, to hook your readers with action immediately. But readers aren’t invested in people they know nothing about, so start with a framing scene that instead describes the characters and the stakes. But those scenes are boring, so cut straight to the action, after opening with a clever quip, but open in the style of the story, and try not to be too clever in the opener, it looks tacky. One shouldn’t use too many dialogue tags, it’s distracting; but you can use ‘said’ a lot, because ‘said’ is invisible, but don’t use ‘said’ too much because it’s boring and uninformative – make sure to vary your dialogue tags to be as descriptive as possible, except don’t do that because it’s distracting, and instead rely mostly on ‘said’ and only use others when you need them. But don’t use ‘said’ too often; you should avoid dialogue tags as much as you possibly can and indicate speakers through describing their reactions. But don’t do that, it’s distracting.

Having a viewpoint character describe themselves is amateurish, so avoid that. But also be sure to describe your viewpoint character so that the reader can picture them. And include a lot of introspection, so we can see their mindset, but don’t include too much introspection, because it’s boring and takes away from the action and really bogs down the story, but also remember to include plenty of introspection so your character doesn’t feel like a robot. And adverbs are great action descriptors; you should have a lot of them, but don’t use a lot of adverbs; they’re amateurish and bog down the story. And

The reason new writers are bombarded with so much outright contradictory writing advice is that these tips are conditional. It depends on your style, your genre, your audience, your level of skill, and what problems in your writing you’re trying to fix. Which is why, when I’m writing, I tend to focus on what I call my Three Commandments of Writing. These are the overall rules; before accepting any writing advice, I check whether it reinforces one of these rules or not. If not, I ditch it.

1: Thou Shalt Have Something To Say

What’s your book about?

I don’t mean, describe to me the plot. I mean, why should anybody read this? What’s its thesis? What’s its reason for existence, from the reader’s perspective? People write stories for all kinds of reasons, but things like ‘I just wanted to get it out of my head’ are meaningless from a reader perspective. The greatest piece of writing advice I ever received was you putting words on a page does not obligate anybody to read them. So why are the words there? What point are you trying to make?

The purpose of your story can vary wildly. Usually, you’ll be exploring some kind of thesis, especially if you write genre fiction. Curse Words, for example, is an exploration of self-perpetuating power structures and how aiming for short-term stability and safety can cause long-term problems, as well as the responsibilities of an agitator when seeking to do the necessary work of dismantling those power structures. Most of the things in Curse Words eventually fold back into exploring this question. Alternately, you might just have a really cool idea for a society or alien species or something and want to show it off (note: it can be VERY VERY HARD to carry a story on a ‘cool original concept’ by itself. You think your sky society where they fly above the clouds and have no rainfall and have to harvest water from the clouds below is a cool enough idea to carry a story: You’re almost certainly wrong. These cool concept stories work best when they are either very short, or working in conjunction with exploring a theme). You might be writing a mystery series where each story is a standalone mystery and the point is to present a puzzle and solve a fun mystery each book. Maybe you’re just here to make the reader laugh, and will throw in anything you can find that’ll act as framing for better jokes. In some genres, readers know exactly what they want and have gotten it a hundred times before and want that story again but with different character names – maybe you’re writing one of those. (These stories are popular in romance, pulp fantasy, some action genres, and rather a lot of types of fanfiction).

Whatever the main point of your story is, you should know it by the time you finish the first draft, because you simply cannot write the second draft if you don’t know what the point of the story is. (If you write web serials and are publishing the first draft, you’ll need to figure it out a lot faster.)

Once you know what the point of your story is, you can assess all writing decisions through this lens – does this help or hurt the point of my story?

2: Thou Shalt Respect Thy Reader’s Investment

Readers invest a lot in a story. Sometimes it’s money, if they bought your book, but even if your story is free, they invest time, attention, and emotional investment. The vast majority of your job is making that investment worth it. There are two factors to this – lowering the investment, and increasing the payoff. If you can lower your audience’s suspension of disbelief through consistent characterisation, realistic (for your genre – this may deviate from real realism) worldbuilding, and appropriately foreshadowing and forewarning any unexpected rules of your world. You can lower the amount of effort or attention your audience need to put into getting into your story by writing in a clear manner, using an entertaining tone, and relying on cultural touchpoints they understand already instead of pushing them in the deep end into a completely unfamiliar situation. The lower their initial investment, the easier it is to make the payoff worth it.

Two important notes here: one, not all audiences view investment in the same way. Your average reader views time as a major investment, but readers of long fiction (epic fantasies, web serials, et cetera) often view length as part of the payoff. Brandon Sanderson fans don’t grab his latest book and think “Uuuugh, why does it have to be so looong!” Similarly, some people like being thrown in the deep end and having to put a lot of work into figuring out what the fuck is going on with no onboarding. This is one of science fiction’s main tactics for forcibly immersing you in a future world. So the valuation of what counts as too much investment varies drastically between readers.

Two, it’s not always the best idea to minimise the necessary investment at all costs. Generally, engagement with art asks something of us, and that’s part of the appeal. Minimum-effort books do have their appeal and their place, in the same way that idle games or repetitive sitcoms have their appeal and their place, but the memorable stories, the ones that have staying power and provide real value, are the ones that ask something of the reader. If they’re not investing anything, they have no incentive to engage, and you’re just filling in time. This commandment does not exist to tell you to try to ask nothing of your audience – you should be asking something of your audience. It exists to tell you to respect that investment. Know what you’re asking of your audience, and make sure that the ask is less than the payoff.

The other way to respect the investment is of course to focus on a great payoff. Make those characters socially fascinating, make that sacrifice emotionally rending, make the answer to that mystery intellectually fulfilling. If you can make the investment worth it, they’ll enjoy your story. And if you consistently make their investment worth it, you build trust, and they’ll be willing to invest more next time, which means you can ask more of them and give them an even better payoff. Audience trust is a very precious currency and this is how you build it – be worth their time.

But how do you know what your audience does and doesn’t consider an onerous investment? And how do you know what kinds of payoff they’ll find rewarding? Easy – they self-sort. Part of your job is telling your audience what to expect from you as soon as you can, so that if it’s not for them, they’ll leave, and if it is, they’ll invest and appreciate the return. (“Oh but I want as many people reading my story as possible!” No, you don’t. If you want that, you can write paint-by-numbers common denominator mass appeal fic. What you want is the audience who will enjoy your story; everyone else is a waste of time, and is in fact, detrimental to your success, because if they don’t like your story then they’re likely to be bad marketing. You want these people to bounce off and leave before you disappoint them. Don’t try to trick them into staying around.) Your audience should know, very early on, what kind of an experience they’re in for, what the tone will be, the genre and character(s) they’re going to follow, that sort of thing. The first couple of chapters of Time to Orbit: Unknown, for example, are a micro-example of the sorts of mysteries that Aspen will be dealing with for most of the book, as well as a sample of their character voice, the way they approach problems, and enough of their background, world and behaviour for the reader to decide if this sort of story is for them. We also start the story with some mildly graphic medical stuff, enough physics for the reader to determine the ‘hardness’ of the scifi, and about the level of physical risk that Aspen will be putting themselves at for most of the book. This is all important information for a reader to have.

If you are mindful of the investment your readers are making, mindful of the value of the payoff, and honest with them about both from the start so that they can decide whether the story is for them, you can respect their investment and make sure they have a good time.

3: Thou Shalt Not Make Thy World Less Interesting

This one’s really about payoff, but it’s important enough to be its own commandment. It relates primarily to twists, reveals, worldbuilding, and killing off storylines or characters. One mistake that I see new writers make all the time is that they tank the engagement of their story by introducing a cool fun twist that seems so awesome in the moment and then… is a major letdown, because the implications make the world less interesting.

“It was all a dream” twists often fall into this trap. Contrary to popular opinion, I think these twists can be done extremely well. I’ve seen them done extremely well. The vast majority of the time, they’re very bad. They’re bad because they take an interesting world and make it boring. The same is true of poorly thought out, shocking character deaths – when you kill a character, you kill their potential, and if they’re a character worth killing in a high impact way then this is always a huge sacrifice on your part. Is it worth it? Will it make the story more interesting? Similarly, if your bad guy is going to get up and gloat ‘Aha, your quest was all planned by me, I was working in the shadows to get you to acquire the Mystery Object since I could not! You have fallen into my trap! Now give me the Mystery Object!’, is this a more interesting story than if the protagonist’s journey had actually been their own unmanipulated adventure? It makes your bad guy look clever and can be a cool twist, but does it mean that all those times your protagonist escaped the bad guy’s men by the skin of his teeth, he was being allowed to escape? Are they retroactively less interesting now?

Whether these twists work or not will depend on how you’ve constructed the rest of your story. Do they make your world more or less interesting?

If you have the audience’s trust, it’s permissible to make your world temporarily less interesting. You can kill off the cool guy with the awesome plan, or make it so that the Chosen One wasn’t actually the Chosen One, or even have the main character wake up and find out it was all a dream, and let the reader marinate in disappointment for a little while before you pick it up again and turn things around so that actually, that twist does lead to a more interesting story! But you have to pick it up again. Don’t leave them with the version that’s less interesting than the story you tanked for the twist. The general slop of interest must trend upward, and your sacrifices need to all lead into the more interesting world. Otherwise, your readers will be disappointed, and their experience will be tainted.

Whenever I’m looking at a new piece of writing advice, I view it through these three rules. Is this plot still delivering on the book’s purpose, or have I gone off the rails somewhere and just stared writing random stuff? Does making this character ‘more relateable’ help or hinder that goal? Does this argument with the protagonists’ mother tell the reader anything or lead to any useful payoff; is it respectful of their time? Will starting in medias res give the audience an accurate view of the story and help them decide whether to invest? Does this big twist that challenges all the assumptions we’ve made so far imply a world that is more or less interesting than the world previously implied?

Hopefully these can help you, too.

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rockatanskette · 1 year

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One of the running themes in "humans are space orcs" circles is the idea that humans will bond with anything. I can think of plenty of stories of humans making friends with wild animals, alligators, predators, creatures that aliens would immediately recognize as too dangerous for contact. But I was reading a story about two orangutans released back into the wild today and there's a certain element to that story I haven't seen so often: humans will bond with animals regardless of whether the bond is reciprocal.

For every story of a human making friends with some unlikely creature, there are dozens of stories of conservation specialists tranquilizing animals, tending to their wounds or illness, and releasing them because they're too dangerous to handle consciously. Stories of tagging birds of prey and timber wolves and Siberian tigers. Fat Bear Week? Any of those bears would rip your face off without hesitation. But they're round and fluffy and intimidating and beautiful and we love them even though they hate us. We make an effort to protect our monsters, because we love our monsters.

Imagine an alien planet that's experiencing ecological degradation. Their flora is dying, and they can't figure out why. And, offhandedly, in a diplomatic mission, an allied planet mentions that humans have successfully reversed similar devastation on Earth. So they reach out and Earth sends some experts to check it out. And what do they suggest? Reintroducing an apex predator that used to be a scourge against alien settlements. The species still exists in other regions of the planet, but it is slowly disappearing outside of its native habitat.

The aliens are askance. They've told bedtime stories to their young of these creatures: how they tear apart their prey, how they've eaten their organs and rip apart their homes. Some suggest that it's a trick—that the humans are trying to prompt them into destroying themselves.

But there are many alien cultures on this planet, with many different stories and some of them agree. The world watches in anticipation as the humans help their predators. They seek them out, these fearless otherworlders, putting them to sleep and tending their wounds. They keep track of the beasts, not to harm them, but to protect them.

At first the doomsayers' prophecy seems to come true. The predators devour prey animals like a feast, like a slaughter to people who have never been so close to the circle of life. But then, slowly, not over months but over years, comes change. The prey no longer eat the leaves and buds of every tree; some are left to bloom and fall. The refuse rots in the dirt, and the floods cease as the soil grows thick with compost and rotted bone, thick enough to hold water. The shapes of rivers change to protect their surroundings from the rain. The pollinators rebound.

Decades later, other cities and nations begin to accept this human myth of "conservation." Champions arise, alien champions, now, who go into the depths of the wilderness and the seas to protect those predators from the apathy of time.

Not all of them make it. This is something else the humans teach. Sometimes the tranquilizers are not enough. Sometimes the timing is wrong. Sometimes accidents happen. And when they do, the aliens look to humans for an answer for why they should protect these creatures who have killed those they love?

"Because they knew the risks," the humans say. "Because they would be the first to speak to save them. Because they taught you to see the beauty in the wild and you must not close your eyes."

So, despite themselves, they don't.

#humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #humans are space australians #this wasn't originally about steve irwin #but it turned into being about steve irwin #i'm crying about stingrays now #it's fine

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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Requesting Avatar men and some mating headcanons?

Uh yea?! Hell fucking yeah Anon!

Pairing: Jake Sully, Miles Quaritch, Tsu'tey, Tonowari x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, mating season, courting, mating press, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, biting, purring, growling, tail shenanigans

A/N: I can't decide who I like more from them. Can I just have them all? I hope so.

Jake had gone through these before however usually he spend them alone or with a temporary partner to keep him company and make things easier.

His mating cycles took a bit of getting used to, as did spending them with a partner, and a human one at that. If he was still human there would be no problem, but now given his size and libito he has to be careful not to hurt you while he's rutting into you.

Let's you pull and tug on his ponytail to stimulate him further, it can also make him finish quicker if he's already balls deep inside of you. Who can resist the sight of their mates pussyhole filled with cum? Certainly not Jake. How could he resist making that a reality and then curling up against you and purring? He can't, he won't.

Mating seasons are a torture for Quaritch. He's been horny plenty as a human, always dealt with it like everyone else. This wasn't just horniness, this was also a deep urge to breed you.

And breed you he did. He kept you firmly pinned against the bed that was too small for him as he slammed his cock into your little cunt, roaring every time he filled you up, unable to stop himself from wanting more. He wanted to see you taking his cock more then he wanted to take his next breath.

Another new urge was the possessiveness he felt. It seemed important that he made sure you knew you were his. To that end he loved seeing you wearing his army tanktop and dog tags, all the while bouncing on his cock with his cum spilling from between your legs.

Tsu'tey never mated with a human before, hell he thought he hated humans. Until he saw you, until he saw you while in the peak of his mating season and something inside of him told him you were the one.

Since then he'd been holding off an clamming you, wanting you to come to him, winning you over little by little with gifts and showing his affection for you until he had you bouncing up and down on his cock, your legs locked around his back and arms around his shoulders as he held you close.

Maybe it was because he couldn't bond with you the way he can with his kind but he's never experienced a mating session so intense. It was a good thing he was a warrior so he had the stamina for it.

Being a chief he has, and has had, many he has spend his mating seasons with. None called to him quite like you. Although unfamiliar at first he was drawn to you like no other.

Due to the difference in species, size and strength he was careful when he handled you. It was still quite a bit rough on you but he tried his best to make sure you could take in as much of him as you could without hurting yourself. The sight of you covered in his seed was almost too much for him, gladly he held back.

Otherwise he would have bitten and made you his mate right there and then. Luckily you got away with a few well placed bites on your neck, breasts, ass and thighs only.

#avatar x you #avatar x reader #jake sully x reader #miles quaritch x reader #tsu'tey x reader #tonowari x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar smut #jake sully smut #miles quaritch smut #tsu'tey smut #tonowari smut

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aphroditesmoon · 1 year

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Hey love I seen your request opened and I was wondering could I request a wenclair x reader where the reader is welcome into their relationship romantically and unfortunately the get hurt by one of the students at nevermore and they are being overprotective I really just wants some fluff and a small bit of Wednesday and enid getting mad if you don’t mind please have a great day and don’t forget to drink some water❤️❤️❤️

Oh could you tag me also when you make it thx💛

dove

wenclair x harpy!reader (poly)

warnings: gender neutral terms for reader, bullying, physical assault, (do not read if theme is triggering)

a/n: I hope this is to your liking lovie<3 @hadespleasesteponmyneck

°°°

There were many times you'd lay awake wishing you were different, a more subtle species. It wasn't a surprise normies had treated you badly since you were a kid, most outcasts can pretend to be normies to fit in.

But you could be spotted even in a mile away as an outcast with your big flappy wings attached to your arms, and your long talon nails.

You thanked god daily he hadn't gave you a beak at this point.

Arriving at Nevermore gave you bigger hopes then any other schools has before, a chance to finally fit in, to have friends amongst people who understood what it was like to be different.

What you didn't expect was to be made a joke for being an outcast, amongst outcasts.

It wasn't all bad, you'd tell yourself daily.

You were warmly welcomed by the infamous Enid Sinclair and her not so welcoming girlfriend,

You avoided them at first, keeping to yourself and the comfort of the library most of your time. Your roommate Yoko is rarely in your shared dorm, often sleeping in her girlfriend's dorm instead.

But Enid had took matters in her own hands, refusing to let you be alone. As much as you pretend not to care much about it, you were grateful for her and Wednesday. It was the first time you felt wanted.

"So, [name.]" Enid starts, waking by your side with her arm linked with yours. "Have you decided who your date to the Rave'n will be?" She asks, wiggling her brows at you.

You feel your face turns red before shaking your head. "Decide? I'll be lucky if someone even asks me."

Her grin slowly drops at your word and you see her turn her head at Wednesday. The two having an unspoken conversation with eachother.

You raise your eyebrows at them in question and Enid turns back to you. "Maybe you should go with us!" She suggests.

You turn silent in suprise. "Oh? oh-I mean I couldn't-"

"[Name], if you're worried you'd be third wheeling, I assure you that it won't be happening, our affections with eachother are as equal as is to you-" Enid curses and glares at her girlfriend, throwing both hands up in frustration.

"Wha- I- I'm not following.." You look at them in confusion before Enid sighs loudly.

"I thought you said we can tell them together!" She scolds Wednesday, who only shrugs. "Both of you were taking too long."

"Tell me what?" You ask again, this time finally getting their attention.

They turn to you and Enid takes a deep breath before she attempts to speak, being cut off by Wednesday again.

"We would like to invite you into our romantic relationship -"

"Jesus Wednesday-" "You take too long-"

"Invite you to our rela- What is this an interview?"

"Oh you'd rather I ask for their Snapchat then like you did to me-"

You take in her words as they argue.

"You want to be with me?" You try, your voice slowing down their banter as they both look back at you and Enid replies before anyone can interrupt her again. "Yes. Yes we do."

Why? was the first thing that came to mind.

Not realizing you've spoken the question out loud, You were met with a frown from the blond.

"What do you mean why? Because you're amazing, [name]. Look- You seriously can't tell that we've been pulling our asses off to get you to notice us?"

Wednesday snorts and interjects, "You've been pulling your ass off, I've already had their attention-" "Wednesday." Enid sighs, earning a rare smirk from the raven haired.

Your mind was swirling with all this new information. Unable to give any answer, you simply run away without looking back, hearing Enid call after you.

°°°

Your room was no longer your own. And it was a big discomfort to find your space intruded by not even your roommate, but someone who didn't even belong in your dorm.

"What the hell are you doing with my stuff?!" Your eyes widen at the sight of your small nest of blankets all over the room.

"Proving everyone that you're a freak.", There were three of them, and by their looks you knew they were fairies.

And despite harpies often being described as mythical monsters, it's the pointy eared creatures that have devils in them.

"Look at this shit, what is this, your nest? I told you, They're basically just a giant bird-"

"I'm not-"

Your trinkets and rock collection's were being thrown and smashed on walls. You scream and shove the red haired girl againts the wall, your talons scratching through her arms.

"You bird bitch." She snapped bitterly.

"They used their claws on me! Did you guys see that? You guys saw that right?" They all agreed againts you

She was stronger than you thought, or perhaps you weren't as strong as you wanted to be. She pushed you back and your back fell on the floor. Her two friends gripped your hands and held you from moving, you wings flapping againts the floor.

You struggle to against them as the red haired punched you in the face. It was a weak blow but a punch nonetheless .

"You're nothing but a monster, thorough, and thorough." She seethes at your face.

"Not so scary now though are you?"

°°°

The sounds of knocking on your door was muffled by your pillow againts your face.

When the banging fists became louder you pull away and manage to shout at the uninvited visitor to leave you alone.

Silence swallowed your room once more.

Burying your face back in the pillow, you continue your hour long breakdown.

You don't hear the door open at first, but when Enid's fast footsteps reach closer, you flinch and pull back to look behind you.

You couldn't tell what emotions coated their expressions, but what you did know that you're more embarrassed than upset now.

It was bad enough that everyone saw you as a freak, you didn't want the only two people you liked to see you like this.

You had no chance to come up with a story as Wednesday crosses the gap between the tow of you, her hands instantly holding up your face to her, eyes inspection the bruise.

"Who did this to you." She demanded. Her monotonous voice laced with a subtle but noticable anger.

You shook your head and started crying again before you could help it.

Enid wordlessly pulled you in her chest.

You were taken aback by the comfort of her warmth, you can't remember the last time you were held by anyone.

Still sobbing in her arms, Wednesday pulled your chin towards her and asked again, "I need names, dove."

"I-she didn't tell me-" Enid interjects your stuttering. "It's that fairy girl, Aliyah." You looked at her confused.

"It's the wolf scent thing, this room reeks of her fake dior." She explains,

Wednesday wordlessly walks to the door and Enid's arms release you as she runs to her.

"Wednesday no. We need to tell Weems about this, nothing more-"

"Nothing more? She assaulted [name]. You think whatever lame punishment Weems give them will make them stop? No. The stupid elf and whoever involved needs to know this will be the last time they even look at them."

Enid stared at her, mouth agape and then sighed.

"Fairy, not elf." She mumbled and shakes her head.

"Imbecile, is the right term. I won't have either of you in trouble with me. So you stay here and be there for them in ways I can't. I'll handle that wretched mushroom eater." Was the last words she speaks before slamming the door on Enid's face.

Enid groans and looks back at you, confused and sniffing. "She's not going to...kill her, is she?" You asks worriedly.

She walks towards you and crawls in the bed to your side, pulling you back to her. "She's not a murderer, but I can't say she doesn't have a penchant for inflicting pain."

#wenid #wenclair fanfic #wenclair x reader #wenclair x you #wenclair #wednesday netflix #wednesday x enid #wednesday addams #enid sinclair fanfic #enid sinclair #wednesday addams fanfic #Wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair x reader

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oldfangirl81 · 3 months

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Kid fic plot idea

Danny discovered after anti-Ecto Acts were repealed there was a spike of liminals being discovered. Many had been considered just meta until everything around the GIW came out. This meant there were occasionally liminals put into foster care in the mortal world.

After finishing his degree Danny took the throne as King of the Infinite Realm. These liminal kids fell under his jurisdiction. Most of the time Danny just found homes for them with the help of his social worker advisors Jazz & Elle.

Except for a pair of siblings discovered in a lab. They were designer clones of an alien species and a liminal. Luckily they were rescued at only six weeks old. Danny was their only parent.

The kids developed a few peculiar tastes as they grew up. Eventually Danny had to carry around plain rice cakes with him everywhere because it was close enough to Styrofoam to make them happy, but an actual edible item that wouldn't get CPS called on his civilian identity again. Even in Gotham people get worried about kids eating toxic substances. Maybe especially Gotham because who knows what will create the next rogue.

Oracle keeps a folder of the ridiculous incidents of Danny & kids vs Rogues.

They escaped the baby-sitter one day. Icicle Jr turned himself in, begging to get away from the hyper toddlers. They kept calling him "kinda daddy" because ice reminded them of Danny's core.

They escaped the new baby-sitter. Killer Croc slept for hours after he stumbled across them lost in the sewers, exhausted by the kiddos wanting to wrestle for hours before they'd agreed to go home. Killer Croc eventually flagged down Signal to return them.

The first day of preschool went well. The second day did not. The two ran from the school and made it all the way to Central City. Flash and Captain Cold didn't know how to react to a pair of preschoolers demanding to play tag too in the middle of a robbery.

It only surprised a few folks that the best nanny ended up being Harley. The kiddos spotted the hyenas one day and wanted to pet the doggy.

#fic prompt #ghost king danny #dp x dc #i was an odd kid who loved plain rice cakes #i still do #that sparked this #yes i also just read some xmen comics

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fontainesiblingsbiggestfan · 2 months

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Lyney & Lynette with GN S/O's pet

notes: mod dont quite know what exactly to write about but thats fine cause can just make it up as mod goes on.. would post more but dont wanna overflow the tags with mods stuff and drown out other wonderful writers n whatnot! this is probably way worse than the last one so sorry if it sucks :( [btw rq reminder that u can request stuff, so look into that if you want something made for one of/both of these two.)

Lyney is pretty good with animals of all types pretty much!! Besides fish though, fish hate him (and no even in a scared way, they bite him.) As soon as he realizes you have a pet he instantly wants to befriend it, asks you what they're like, do they like to eat this or that..

Probably gonna have to tell him to not give your pet too many treats, cause he might overdo it a tiny bit while trying to make him their favorite. Would probably start bringing a treat for everytime he went to your house then explains it as him having to pay an "entrance fee". If your pet is able to/likes to play he might bring them a toy like.. Every two or so weeks? Whenever he sees a cute toy for their species he'll just get one for your pet.

If it's a dog, he doesn't have much experience with them due to various reasons, but he doesn't dislike them or anything (even if he does prefer kitties..) You might not want a big one on his lap or anything though since he's not neccesarily the biggest guy, so be careful with that.

Asks you if it sheds before he even enters the house. He needs to know cause nine times out of ten he just finished a show and he does not want pet hair all over his show clothes. If it is then he'll probably end up going home to change to avoid any issues regarding that.

Cats love Lyney 99% of the time, can tame even the craziest of crazies into lapcats. Of course, this is 99%, not 100.. The 1% wants him dead. Birds also tend to like him since he's used to working with doves and whatnot, used to dealing with them. Asks you if he can have it on his finger/arm. Also good with rabbits due to him also working with them, might scare it like once with a magic trick though since he might forget yours isn't really used to that.?? Feels bad afterwards though and gives it food as an apology so I suppose it's alright.

Lyney is willing to petsit and is good at it. If your pet destroys anything you own while your gone he might just.. Replace it and hope you don't notice. Would be a bit scared that you might get angry at him also for letting it do that or something. In general would describe him as a pretty solid person to keep around your pet with points deducted due to the issue of him spoiling the thing too much, 8/10.

Lynette is liked by cats, and they tend to gravitate towards her. So, if you have a cat, hurray! If you have a dog, however...

Dogs don't really like her, with the range going from them barking at her constantly to just ignoring her, depending entirely on the dog's personality. Don't worry, though; it won't really offend her. She's quite used to it, and besides, she isn't a dog fan anyway. She would probably ask you to put the dog up if it won't leave her alone, though.

A lot like Lyney, she is also good with birds and rabbits. But do keep in mind, just because she's good with them, doesn't mean they're good with her. Birds, unless having been subject to Lynette for long enough, tend to fly away from her. Not all of them, just most of them.

Rodents and the like also run from her. And amphibians. And fish. Her cat-like features and smell seem to frighten any animals that would qualify as prey to a cat. But again, she doesn't really mind; she expected this sort of reaction anyway.

She doesn't try to make them like her or anything, wouldn't even mind if they hated her. Still, that doesn't mean she would turn the animal down if it does happen to enjoy her presence; she'd not-so-secretly like it if they did. Lynette might even come to your house just to chill out with the pet (you being a small side bonus to the trip).

Pretty good petsitter, kind of. Lynette has her own cats at home, so she's used to being climbed all over or serving food and whatnot. As long as the animal isn't scared of her, it will go fine. Just pray to God you have no machines that she'd have to use in her time there, and she'll be fine, 8/10 (points deducted for obvious reasons).

#lynette x reader #lyney x reader #genshin lynette #genshin lyney #lyney #lynette #genshin x reader #genshin impact

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igotanidea · 8 months

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Species relationship (Cinnamon rewritten) : werewolf!Jason Todd x werewolf!fem!reader

Yes, I think this is way better than previous one. :D

***

„Where’s Jason?”

All the batfamily has gathered in the batcave, the only one missing being the wayward son, the black sheep.

“I believe he’s with that girlfriend of his….” Damian muttered with the roll of his eyes.

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes, father… a fellow female…. Ugh… I don’t understand that concept either….”

“Hm.”

“Was it like a good hm or a bad hm?” Dick chimed in. “I swear your grunts are sometimes so hard to decipher, Bruce…..”

“Who is she?”

“We don’t really know…..” Dick threw up his hands “He’s very…. protective over her….”

“Is she…..?” Bruce hesitated. Sometimes it was still hard to admit that werewolves and all the supernatural occurrences to come with it were real. Yes, Bruce had an open mind when it came to technology and reality, but accepting the fact that his second adopted son could transform into a hairy beast was… a lot. However, if there was anyone who could pull that thing off, it was definitely Jason with his 6.0 ft height and 225 Ibs weight.

Imagine the heart attack Bruce would get if it was tiny Damian with such skills…….

“Is she what Bruce?” Dick teased “come on, say it… you can do this….”

“Is she…..a werewolf?” Bruce hissed through clenched teeth.

“Good job, Bruce!” Dick laughed

“She is.” Tim answered, trying to mitigate the situation before someone does something regretful. “A pretty one from what I heard….”

“Who is she Tim?” Bruce turned to his third adopted son.

“How would I know?!”

“You have access to all the Wayne Technology and you’re you. Don’t tell me you haven’t googled her”

“I did no such thing! That would be a gravy invasion of privacy!” Tim made an innocent face that no one bought.

“Hm.”

“What?! I’m serious. You can’t just go and spy on people….werewolves… whatever. “ Tim said it with so much belief that Dick couldn’t help it and burst out laughing.

“Dick.”

“I’m not sorry Bruce. You’re definitely wasting your comedian and acting talent, Tim.”

“I’m being serious. She’s just a girl. A girl who turns into a giant animal every full moon and then sometimes…. It’s not her fault she imprinted Jason…. I won’t be searching for that poor unfortunate soul.”

“Imprinted?” Damian and Bruce asked in unison.

“No.” Dick says sternly. “Just no.”

“But…..”

“You’re too young to hear about it Damian.”

“I’m 11 years old, Grayson!”

“Precisely my point.”

“You will tell me everything……” Damian reached for his katana, but before he could actually do something, Bruce held him back by the cape. “Let me go father…… this is humiliating….”

“You will now go to your room Damian.”

“But….’

“I got some things I need to discuss with your brothers.”

And with those words and Bruce stern expression Dick and Tim knew. They were toasted.

***

Regardless of what was happening in the batcave, Jason couldn’t care less. He was in fact meeting Y/N, but to say she was his girlfriend or that he imprinted her would be too much. There was something happening between them, but they never really put a tag on it. Besides, the whole concept of finding your soulmate just by looking at them was a false ideology blown by movies like Twilight and Jason scoffed (both internally and externally) every time one of his siblings (or honestly anyone) came as close as even suggesting it.

They felt good with each other, sure, but neither of them were fully convinced whether it was because of the fact that there weren’t really that much werewolves in Gotham and it was nice to have someone to go through the same struggles or whether they liked each other as humans.

Not that they had many opportunities to see one another in that shape.

Werewolf form was… comfortable. It was easier to hide oneself in all that fur and muscle and avoid unnecessary emotions. Being human meant vulnerability, awkwardness and too many words and feelings.

And Jason was not good with feelings. And, to say the truth, he never trusted them. He was rather used to teasing, deflecting and covering that side with snarky, harsh humor.

At least until he met Y/N.

She was working at the little bakery in Gotham. The only bakery. Maybe that was why it was so easy for Jason to figure out her true identity.

It was not even a challenge considering the fact that as a human, she was always covered in flour and her wolf fur was a mix of tawny and white, almost as if someone sprinkled that ingredient all over her. And what was more, her signature dish was an apple tart with flavoring, and she always smelled of cinnamon. And wolf senses never fails, especially when it comes to nose.

What he didn’t realize what that Y/N was not only a simple baker girl. And it was amazing what a smart head could do with the access to the Internet and some dot connecting.

Let me repeat: there weren’t many werewolves in Gotham.

For months it was their tradition to meet at the meadow on the outskirts of town to run together or hunt together or just do anything together. He used to swing by her place by the end of her shift, always as a wolf and let her tag along (of course he was not going to admit that he wanted her company. He was an alpha after all. ). So the surprise he felt one day when he showed up at the bakery seeing her as human, not ready for the unwinding was beyond words.

She was just sitting on the threshold of the shop, reading a book, but it was pretty obvious there was something going on in her mind. Again: wolf senses never fails and he could literally smell how distracted she was.

“I know who you are.” She simply said looking straight into his animal eyes.

Jason shook his wolf head. She couldn’t …….

“Jason Todd….”

Whoops.

“Wasn’t really hard to figure.” She shrugs. “You should cut on smoking it’s not good for your health and you reek of cigarettes.” It might have been the first time since they knew each other that he heard her laughing.

The way she acted was… doing something to him. For the hell of it he couldn’t figure why that light reproach made him feel…. Guilty. Chastened. Maybe it was unfair. He knew her identity, maybe he should have told her sooner? It was actually pretty funny that a giant, predatory animal let out a whimper and hung his head in shame in front of a girl, so much smaller than him. It was like at that moment, she got some power over him. A beta!

“Can I?” she asked reaching her hand for his fur and holding back before touching it. Only when he nodded, she tangled her fingers it his silky pelage. “It’s ok, Jason. I know it’s hard to reveal yourself…. Been there, done that… But you’re not alone anymore.” She cooed, caressing his back lightly. “We’re the same kind…..”

In any other circumstances, he would never let anyone touch him like this. But she was… different. The way she talked and comforted him… but surely it was only because of the wolf in her calling to the wolf in him. Kind of a “species relationship”, nothing more.

Definitely nothing more……

So why did he felt the sudden urge to nuzzle her and actually acted on it?

Just a species relationship……

It was month ago and their acquaintance developed.

He learnt that while being a little messy human in her wolf form Y/N was full of grace and gentleness. Acting like one of the Aristocats, even if the werewolves were in fact.. dogs. When she was hunting it was never bloody. She always took care to be clean of the mud, to avoid unnecessary dirt and to choose the nice paths to run in the woods. Each and every of her move were careful, thoughtful and intentional.

Absolutely opposite of Jason who was the perfect definition of running wild and free. But even with her queen-ish attitude she never complained. And he really appreciated that, since Y/N was so different from all the members of his family, who were constantly trying to shape him, tell him what, how, why and when to do (or nor).

With her… he could just be himself.

Just a species relationship.

And after a long night of patrolling he was searching for that freedom he felt with her.

Just like he was doing at that point, escaping the batcave, leaving Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian and all his Red Hood shit behind, running to the bakery just to spend some time with that beta.

It was purely coincidental that of late she’s been working night shifts, finishing in the very early morning. Her boss found out about the little ailment of her which was hypersensitivity to light. To put it simply, working during the day was nearly impossible for her since she was becoming half-blind, getting clumsy and ashamed of said incapability. But still, she was the best employee, letting her go was not an option, hence the work schedule alteration.

Pretty lucky work schedule alteration.

Pretty lucky work schedule alteration that gave them opportunity to spend some more time together.

But still it was just the species relationship.

Nothing more.

And his wolf heart definitely did not start beating faster when he saw her turned into that majestic animal, waving her tail awaiting his arrival. When she senses him approaching she tilted her head playfully, imitating the way she used to do as human when something got her attention and her eyes sparkled.

Jason let out a single howl as a form of greeting. Of course, he had to show off. He was an alpha and had to underline his presence and position. And it scaring the shit out of Y/N’s coworkers came in pair with that, he was more than willing to tease those people a bit. Even if his werewolf female friend shook her head in disapproval and was definitely going to tell him off later.

He knew better. He knew she liked him being like this and her every action was only proving that theory.

However, at the moment they were just looking into each other’s eyes. Two giant animals in the middle of the city, lost in the connection they had. Just a for a second though, because Jason got a bit scared of what Y/N may see in his mind if they were standing like that for too long and started running, signaling her to follow him.

She just couldn’t ignore the calling of an alpha. Her alpha. It was too strong to disobey so she followed right after him, keeping safe distance to avoid getting hit with the dust he raised. She was a lady after all.

Soon enough, with their speed, they reached the meadow in the forest. Their spot. Their place for relaxation and sleeping after a hard day (night) of work.

Jason just tumbled to the ground not having a care in the world, but Y/N took a few turns to make a proper place for herself and settle down. The sun was about to raise and she needed a spot in the shadows to avoid extensive exposure. Even if in her wolf form she wasn’t really prone to the light sensitivity, it was a bit of a habit now. Not every human instinct was turned off during transformation.

Unfortunately, the place she choose was too far from Jason for his liking as he raised onto his paws and moved closer to her, laying close enough that if they were humans they would be cuddling. And this time she couldn’t care less about his dirty, messed up fur.

It was Jason.

It was her alpha.

And she was the part of the pack. She had to obey.

Obviously only because of that she let him approach her and lay his head next to her, their noses almost touching, their tails waging happily at the presence and warmth of one another.

Only because of that she felt comfortable and safe enough to close up her eyes and enjoy that fuzzy feeling inside her.

Only because of that she let him shift his position slightly so that he laid in a way that would give her additional protection from the light. Just in case.

Only because of the pack thing they let their guards down, slowly drifting off to sleep, away from all the people, away from reality, lost in one another. Protected by one another .

Species relationship, my ass.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x oc #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd au #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x oc #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x fem!reader #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #red hood fluff #werewolf!jason

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marigoldenblooms · 20 days

Text

Unica Semper Avis - Chapter 2

Pairing: Cleric!Wanda x Fem!AvianShifter!Reader x MonsterHunter!Natasha

Prompt: Ever since you’ve come of age, you’ve never been able to stop yourself from transforming into a monster. Whenever the sky would dim with a New Moon, you’d ravage the world with a fury unknown by many. Such is the bane existence of your species. This time, however - something was different. Now, you need help. On the feeble doorstep of the so-called ‘Spirit Healer,’ you found yourself both at the mercy of a cleric, and of a monster hunter’s blade. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

MINORS DNI - 18+

TW/General Tags: No mention of Y/N, slow burn, stranger to lovers (Wanda), enemies to lovers (Natasha), eventual smut (lord have mercy), Swearing, Fantasy violence, occasional descriptions of light body horror during transformation, slight self harm, slight restraint, angst, fluff, will add tags as they appear!

Chapter Warnings: Non-consensual touching (arms/shoulders), slight transformation description, threatening, mentions of pain (burning), intimidation tactics, arguments, manipulation, angst, canon-level violence, mentions of scarring/burnt skin, restraint, we're finally leaving Belmoor y'all

A/N: Holy crap y'all, thanks for the incredible responses on everything once again! We finally get some trio dialogue going in this chapter ^^ Natasha’s interrogation is based within Latin, while R’s occasional text is built primarily within greek. Russian is also here, as expected. I had nothing for Smut Saturday, so I hope lore will suffice ^^' We will see if the writing block ceases, lol

Equally, we’ve got a Unica tag list coming along! Let me know if you’d like to be added to it!

Word count: 3.9k - Read Length: 14 minutes, 29 seconds. ~~~

You’d never dreamt awake before.

You could feel your mind faintly, cognition ghostly as you’d blink within your own head. Your transformation’s destruction was never something you were aware of until you rose out of it, covered in viscera from your form’s hunt. Was it really your body, after that? As you’d drift hazily in a river of your own thoughts, you couldn’t separate feathers from skin. You and your monster were one in the same.

You’d try to shut your eyes again, fall back into the painless slumber your molt offered. A part of you knew the horror you’d awake to- perhaps your succession had slaughtered them all, friend and foe alike. You would grieve her as you had the others, the fiery healer with her crimson magic. The knight would become a cliff note to your psyche, a tack onto an endless tally-board. You were used to being hunted.

It’d be minutes before you realized you weren’t alone.

Gaze snapping upwards, you’d bare your teeth towards the intruder which marred your thoughts, only to find a translucent figure. You could feel her chill from here, Her feathered speckling like a shawl over her shoulders, the wings behind her blanketing into a beautiful frame. She reached a hand towards you, although her smile was too thin to be kind. She didn’t look much different than she’d appeared days prior within your dreams yet again. The Aegyptius creation deity. Why was she here?

You didn’t shy from her gaze, looking at her with both respect and provocation. She was in your mind, fragmented as it was while your body rampaged elsewhere. If there was anywhere you were dominion of, it was this. “I know who you are now, Matron,” you’d assure, your voice echoing in the dim expanse, rippling along the water of your thoughts. She seemed to catch your words, and her grin grew wider, eyes narrowing. She’d tut, and in a second you could feel her cold, mist-like hands on your shoulders, “I expect something more reverent from my martyr..but you will learn.”

“Martyr?” Your expression grew sour as she wouldn’t elaborate, toying with your frustration as she’d run her palms down your arms. An uncomfortable shiver would brace through your body, and you could feel your form stretch beneath as if her touch spurred your transformation all over again. She was cruel, a pained sigh leaving you as your teeth would clench.

Her grasp on you would tighten, feeling the brittleness of pin feathers beneath flesh, “Your mind may not remember, fledgeling…but all my creations know my whims. And yet you wish to rid yourself of me?” Her laugh would be musical, but the bite in her tone was awash with rage, thinly veiled as the Matron stalked circles around you.

The frustration that had flowed through you prior to your molt was flimsy now, embers against a cold snap. You felt your gut sink, fear bubbling thickly in your throat. You’d stopped looking at her by now, your gaze piercing down into nothingness. All you could manage was a pitiful nod, and you couldn’t tell if her snicker was anger from your lackluster response or joy from how compliant she’d rendered you. They were one in the same with your kind, you supposed.

“You cannot..although I’m certain you’ve already understood that.” She’d pause in front of your face, ghostly touch icy as she’d claw your chin to meet your gaze with hers. Her phrase would come quickly, as if she was excited to utter it, “And for penance…you must kill that witch.”

“What?” They weren’t dead already? Your molt would’ve torn her to shreds by now. What was happening in the waking world? Even within a dream, the thought of murdering another with your conscious mind churned your stomach, especially one that brought you food. Mercy. “Command my body to do it, then-”

“No. You must do this as human,” Her smile was dagger-thin now, and you swear sparks flashed from her maw when she spoke. “Not as bird. Your hunger will be your guide.” Her hands would cradle your face now, the chill of her spectral palms almost forgotten as your mind would rush and lurch. You could feel the knaw of famine in your gut, a terrible feeling, all too real.

“I reject this- she has been kind, I-” The Matron would’ve disappeared immediately, the thawing of your flesh the only reminder. Your plea would be met with silence, hyperventilation coaxing your heart into overdrive. Thudding in your skull, you could almost feel the weight of bone in your jaws, your throat suddenly parched. You’d rasp, drawing your hands close to cradle yourself as the world grew fuzzy and vague, “I don’t want to be a monster..”

“Oh, my martyr..” She’d murmur, her voice suddenly swirling along the shell of your ear, freezing your hunch in place.

“That’s what I made you for.”

Your mind would swim, lucidity and unconsciousness blending into tar which filled your brain. You’d blink, heavier than before..and just before you’d wake, you’d feel her touch on your shoulder again.

“Survivε, mυ μάρτυρας..”

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

You’d regain your mind halfway through it all. Your body ached and tore within you, the subtle itch of plumage molting from your skin a feeling you couldn’t soothe. You were in the barn.

Your arms were held back as you’d kneel on the floor, a searing heat plaguing your wrists as you’d fight against its hold- your chains. They’d manage to cage you. If you hadn’t been in so much pain, you would’ve wheezed relief at that. Your tongue was dry, the taste of blood and bone absent on your lips. You hadn’t eaten anyone during your transformation, and yet your body twinged with agony all the more for it. You had no fuel to offer you shifting body, and so it ate you from the inside to power your return to being humanoid. Panting a low whine, spasms would twitch your form as your bones would grow heavier within your flesh, solid all the way through. Even through your strain, a quiet shuffle would draw your eyes immediately- your heightened instincts were always the last things to go. In the recluses of the barn stood your prior attacker, although her attention was focused elsewhere, ghosting over something in the palm of her gloved hand. Thank fuck.

It was only now you could get a good look at her. Her hair was auburn, braided sharply in cascading strands which met the nape of her neck. It had been chilled near its ends, pale and almost wispy, as though something had leached the color from it. Sorcery? Stress? You couldn’t tell at first glance, but the perpetual scoff that seemed to mold into her face signaled the latter.

Blueish gray irises stared into what she held, and it was only when you growled a restrained snarl at the sight did her eyes lock to yours. She was holding one of your shorn feathers, the visage making your hackles raise. You wouldn’t shy from her gaze as you had with Wanda, even raising your chin higher so you looked down at her with pinprick pupils- you were an adversary. A challenger. You didn’t fear her. Your head throbbed, the heavy burn of your engraved chains a constant reminder.

She’d approach you with malice- unsurprising given your circumstances, but the prick of a metal blade against your neck was a little more shocking. This early? Damn. You’d grit your teeth but remain steadfast, even as she’d glower over you.

“Ossifraga, dic omnia quae scis.” She’d spit, her words foreign yet familiar in your ears. ‘omia’ was a word you gleamed in an instant - ‘everything’, yet the rest was butchered in her mouth. You’d bare your teeth at her, grin sickeningly raw even as she’d press her knife’s edge to your nape. “Dic mihi omnia Fraga, ne te interficiam sicut columbam-“

Her anger would shatter at the creaking barn door, flinching just as you did. At least one similarity between the two of you. A familiar soothing tone would echo to you, honeyed and thick, albeit strangled from…anger. Anger?

“I leave you for one second, you глупый козел-“ Wanda muttered harshly, her stomping footfalls sharply rattling in your skull. She’d pluck the knight’s hand away from you, grip harsh as she’d try to wrestle away their weapon- futile, as their shock to Wanda’s insult only lasted so long. From your attacker’s reaction, it seemed they shared a language. Interesting. “And here you are, nicking my patient-“

You’d struggle at Wanda’s words, trying to show her your discomfort. Your wrists continued to burn, and you swear their imprint would be branded on your skin if they weren’t taken off soon. And yet, it may be safer if you remain chained. The Matron’s words still throbbed in your ears, a blinding sight locking your gaze onto Wanda before you bit it back down. You’d breathe, ragged, before gasping a sound which seemed to catch her attention. Her nimble fingers would move to start unshackling you, before being caught by Natasha’s rough grip, pulling her immediately back, “What are you doing-!? It’ll kill you-“

“I won’t harm…her..-“ You’d hiss, finding your bearings as your larynx would thrum with your voice again. You’d glare at the hunter, voice steadfast even through your pain, “You’re- a different story, knight..let me go, and maybe I’ll consider.”

You saw her jaw flex at your tone, malice seeping from every beat of her heart. She’d release Wanda with a tight-lipped grumble, your wrists losing their binds seconds later. You’d rub at the tender flesh for a split second, gasping and hiding away as it’d still bubble with scorching heat. You were too late, and soon your wrists would scar over. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad next time, perhaps.

You’d sit up, movements sluggish as you’d sync again with a heavier frame. Your glance would be wary, looking to Wanda as if the knight wasn’t there. You saw annoyance flash across the hunter’s expression, and satisfaction bloomed in yours. Let her be upset. “What happened..? You shackled me, I am thankful for it.”

“And yet your wrists don’t look happy..” Wanda would respond with muffled concern, although you’d retreat from her scarlet magic’s attempt to heal- scars proved you had lived, this one above all. This one showed you could trust the healer to protect you when you couldn’t protect her. The slow rumble of starvation proved you wouldn’t be able to protect her for a long time. She’d sigh, but wouldn’t press further. “You’ve been in the barn for three days, we put you here on the evening of the first-“

Your expression faltering would quiet her words, a shaky inhale slicing into the room’s air. Three days. “I’ve never been..” you’d grip your hair as you spoke, bending to pull more of you closer. You’d stare at your shorn feathers, brilliant white where they lay unheated, almost ghostly in the thin light of Wanda’s shed.

“I’ve never been transformed for that long.”

“And why should we believe you? You could feather again as we speak- kill us all.” The knight would glare at you, though there was a chance she never stopped, boring a hole into your skull which you gladly challenged. You’d bark a laugh, the sound uncomfortable in your raw chest and yet you reveled in how she flinched away. The air grew thick and still, “If you hunt my kind with that attitude, you obviously know nothing of the Aegyptius.”

“Then enlighten me, Fraga-”” She said that like an insult to you, and yet it didn’t register.

“And why the hell should I-?”

“Because we have a common goal, you dolts-“

At Wanda’s interjection, your voice would sliver and slip away, her face red and scrunched with frustration. It was almost adorable how her nostrils flared with her words, yet the rage in her eyes was something that stirred sorrow inside you. Something clicked in the back of your mind, memories from your brood when you were young, and yet nothing registered in the fog of retorting anger. There was curiosity on the hunter’s face, shoulders squared back at Wanda’s tone, and yet your mind still held what the knight had said before.

“What did you call me?” Your words stumbled as you’d shift to stand, legs frail under the weight of yourself. You wouldn’t see the knight’s bewildered expression until much later, too busy keeping your feet underneath you, “Fraga…do you not even know what you are?” “Enlighten me,” you’d taunt, clipped thin between your barred teeth. Wanda would scoff, shaking her head in your peripheral.

“You are Ossifraga. Bone-breaker, the unclean bird..” Your eyes would narrow, but not in the way the hunter wanted, it seems. These names meant nothing to you. “A mistake upon your feathered kind. A blight-'' Her words would build in strength, low as she’d stalk dangerous steps towards you. You looked towards Wanda, her hands slowly raising as scarlet magic grew to weave around her fingers.

“Others of your kind can be minstrels, songbirds or doves- even raptors can experience valor as warriors…but you, Fraga, are the mutated husk of your false god.” She spit her tone with vitriol, acidic. The receding down on the back of your neck rose as your blood ran cold- Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, a lump swelling in your throat, but it wasn’t all fear. There was something else, a chill unfamiliar to your waking form, coaxing your mouth open. You resisted, even your back reached the worn wood of the barn’s walls and the knight’s voice swarmed back into focus.

“A dangerous monster, consuming the bones of innocents and leaving plague in your wake,” A gleaming metal shone near her wrist, and your stomach dropped all too late. The knife was probably sacred, intricately carved with markings you could hardly make out in the blur of motion, her gloved hand grasping your shoulder while the other swung to pierce your stomach.

“You’re the infection I must quell-”

Your maw opened before you could think.

“Αμολάω-!” You’d shriek, your voice hissing with the inflection of many. You heard the clatter of metal on the ground as your tone echoed forth. The knight would barrel backwards, clutching her head as Wanda flinched behind her, the shockwave of your words hitting her fainter the further it went from your mouth.

You kicked away the knight’s dropped blade, another command echoing from you, your tone no longer your own, cold and bitter on your tongue, “Γονατίστε, παράσιτα- Θα σε καταβροχθίσω χωρίς δεύτερη σκέψη..”

The hunter sunk to her knees before your sentence had finished. You’d gasp a second later, your lungs filled with air as though they’d never have before. Blinking, you’d feel a tenseness in your body, arms trailing with thin plumage which quickly sunk beneath your skin. You’d watch it leave with a cold numbing shock, jaw slung open with a heavy breath. Your thoughts translated your foreign words after a few moments, ‘Let go. Kneel, vermin. I will devour you without a second thought.’

Your feathers had never grown beyond your molt, confined to the hellish day a month where you were no longer yourself. Your hands tremored, ghosting over the goosebumps that had been left behind. It’s like the feathers had never been there- and yet you could feel your body creak and crunch, as though impatient.

The hunter stood a few seconds later, gait slow as she’d physically wrench herself from your command’s thrall. She’d brush at her scuffed armor, plagued with the barn’s dirt which clung to the metal, “I know what you’re saying. Your pronunciation is weaker, and yet it is still-”

“The language of my kind,” You’d mutter without sympathy, scoffing as the knight seemed to take offense to your interruption. “You’ve stripped it of its history..it's what you spoke before.” You’d never learned your own tongue, and yet half your thoughts spoke in it now. A shiver rolled down your spine, a cascading chill that felt like an awaiting grasp.

“Ah, so it can listen..” She’d sneer, glance harsh as she’d eye her forlorn blade again. Wanda’s interjection would be seen before it was heard, scarlet magic weaving around the hilt before daintily grasping it, pawing it over to her awaiting palm. “And so must you, Romanova..” The way she curved the words had a sense of familiarity, drawing a frustrated huff from the other woman. You’d narrow your eyes, but it wasn’t your turn to speak anymore, “You both listen, or you leave my barn with nothing but a death wish. Am I clear?”

You’d nod slowly, and by Wanda’s sigh, you assumed the knight did the same. “Alright. Let’s go somewhere cozier, shall we?”

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Wanda’s home would’ve been just as comfortable as it had been the prior evening, albeit more cramped. Between three people in the living room, a thin glow of red magic seeping through the slats of wood that boarded the kitchen up, and the deadly eye contact you and the knight shot at each other every second, the air was never thicker.

“And you tore through the kitchen wall,” Wanda’s words were analytical, the gnawing feeling of guilt settling heavy in your gut. You kept your distance from her, a pang of hunger grinding into your thoughts the second you grew closer to the witch. You chewed at the inside of your lip as her palm waved towards the construction her sorcery partook in. Her shrug was too easy, “Not afraid of remodeling, after Romanova mistook my window for a door-”

She’d almost bite towards the hunter, a simmering scoff laced between her accented tone. “Is that your name? ‘Romanova’?” The knight would leer at your question, slinging her arm against the heavy metal of her armor. From Wanda’s scoff, it seems she’d gotten the same reaction while you were out. “You butcher my family title, Fraga-”

“Give me your name and I won’t have to.” You’d raise a brow as her eyes locked to yours, your breath thin and still. You felt the cold in your throat again, creeping like a retch up your windpipe- yet you swallowed it with huskier words, “Since we’re all in the sharing mood. Aren’t we?”

Her sigh was almost palpable, hissing in a low breath, “I am Natasha Alianovna Romanova. Templar of Latrodectus, it’s esteemed widow.” That title meant nothing to you, although your unfitting reaction seemed to knock her down a few pegs. Her reply was less angry than curious, “Did you ever earn a name, Fraga?”

“Earn?” Your snort brought an angry heat to Natasha’s face, perplexed laughter ricocheting through your solid skeleton, “You really do know nothing of my kind. We do not remember names. Unimportant.”

You wouldn’t see Wanda’s furrowed look until she exhaled sharply, looking away from you with crossed arms. Your mind sunk and crackled whenever you looked in her direction, suddenly parched. The flutter in your stomach remained, bringing an uncomfortable nausea rather than burst of curiosity. You kept your eyes on Natasha, expression hollowed, “Why do either of you stay? This..is your house, Wanda, I know-”

“Because we want to help you-” “She does- mhph-” Wanda’s hand would outstretch towards Natasha, blocking her mouth with a wispy scarlet sheen. You looked at Wanda’s shadow, feeling her sigh as your gaze never met hers. Her voice was calmer yet thin, strained between forces, “Do you want to rid yourself of your feathers?”

“Yes,” Your quick response earned an unseen smile from the witch, although your skin grew clammy at the thought. Natasha shuffled, and when you met her eyes you saw hers were raised, almost in shock, her mouth still clasped closed. “Then we have a common interest. This one can find a method beyond violence- and if your transformation is progressing faster, then it is my role to bring you back to normalcy.”

You’d meet her glance now, her smile radiating a warmth into you that culled away some of the chill, satiated you. Your palms felt your own, awkwardly poised as you offered your hold to the witch, her touch filling you with an unfamiliar satisfaction. You shook her hand against yours, ignoring Natasha’s silent indignation burning into your skull. Perhaps you could control yourself- you could protect each other, “Thank you, Wanda.”

“Ah, none of that- you are a medicinal marvel..” She’d tease, your thanks rolling right off of her. You met her grin with your own, her words shushing as she’d lean to you, “Think of what it will do for my prices, to heal an Ossifraga-”

Your laugh was a startling welcome, filling you with mirth as it was returned. “I will pay you then. How many feathers-?” Her hand patted yours before receding, wiping her palm along her clothed side. “...I’ll keep a running tab for you, Птичка.”

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

The sun had risen into midday, and you basked in its sunlight. Your shoulders felt tense as you hauled supplies towards the wagon Wanda and Natasha had acquired an hour ago from Belmoor proper. You’d hung back, admiring the hazy scarlet tendrils which packed Wanda’s belongings. The two had found you handing random objects to the sorcerous helpers when they returned, although Natasha was pulled away by the witch before she could crow about the non-essentiality of bringing Wanda’s butter churn.

The mule that was attached to the wagon- Daisy, Doris, something like that- had been chewing on the turf as you’d settled another crate of rations along the wagon’s bed, pushing it into place with a heavy shove. It was a ten days road travel to Arkridge, the capital of this province, as you’d been told. Its libraries held what could be the first of many secrets. The forest never spoke of it, yet its grandeur was palpable even through Natasha’s gruff words. She hadn’t tried to stab you again, although her glare was seething whenever you met it.

You passed each other by as you’d return towards the house, huffing an unimpressed groan as her haul was much smaller than yours. She’d abandoned her armor for now, and you watched as the musculature of her back shifted as she’d set her barrel down. You could take her if you had to, even without your strength- though the scabbard along her back gave you pause, the longsword’s hilt gleaming in the light. It had been engraved, similar to the leather sheath that bound it, and you’d guess it was the same inscription. Runic and familiar, it brought your thought to your chains, their markings similar yet worn. Perhaps you’d find a way to ask about it, if you could have a conversation without insulting each other.

Your side met Wanda’s as you leaned in her vicinity, your gaze locked onto the knight a dozen meters away. The witch’s voice was smoothed and sweet, honey-like as she’d offer her palm to yours again, inspecting the scarring along your skin as you’d accept. “Your name isn’t Margo, is it?”

You shook your head, still in her embrace, “No. I just needed something to give to you. Satisfy..”

Your words petered out into silence, her squeeze of your hand gentle, shying away from the raw flesh of your wrists. “You don’t have to do that, Ласточка. I have countless things to call you that you won’t forget.” Her wink made your face flush, shying away from her gaze as her tone wrapped around your thoughts. Her giggle wasn’t lost on you, a fondness in her expression you couldn’t decipher. “Will you tell me what that means?”

She’d shake her head, just before you heard Natasha’s heavy footfalls towards you. The forested grove retreated behind as you three would set forth a few minutes later, silence thick. Bellmoor would be forgotten, in favor of new memories. Perhaps your first night at camp would be more riveting.

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Tag List: @mousetheorist

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mechanical-sunchild · 3 months

Text

I know I talk a lot about how it's important to not fall into misanthropic musings within the community because it isolates those who are still in some way human, because stereotyping any animal including humans is still stereotyping and especially ironic if you believe that animals like sharks and spiders don't deserve constant hate which can negatively impact therians who are that animal.

But... you're not bad for having those thoughts. Thoughts are morally neutral. You're not bad for expressing them every once in a while. Especially if they come from a place of personal pain or are correctly tagged anyway and it's your blog.

There's misanthropic humans too. Hating a species and what it does is not unique to anyone, even if it's based on stereotyping the whole species.

When we talk about wanting to see less of it in the community, it's not because we think you're evil and wrong for thinking that way. It's only about, as stated, that some of us are still human or partially human and many like or even love humans and don't want to see posts about how all humans should just die or do awful things because they're human not because they're individually choosing to be awful (autonomy!). Hating humans is not part of therian etc culture and we don't really want any kind of hate to be seen as such.

But if you are a misanthropic nonhuman? That's fine. There's nothing wrong with you and you still belong here, tolerating humans or not.

#otherkin #alterhuman #otherkind #therian #alterbeing #otherbeing #nonhuman #other+

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awkward-tension-art · 17 days

Text

Heart-share

Captain Rex x Reader

Warnings; Reader insert, reader technically isn’t human but human enough, mind-sharing, literally sharing emotions, brief mentions of destruction in the beginning to set up backstory, smut, emotions, brief mentions of biting, technically more build up to sex rather than sex but I’m tagging it as smut anyway, Rex is a sweety, Rex gets a little emotional, he cries slightly, can be read any time before order 66, brief mention of Anakin and Padme

Reader is technically not female because they’re an alien species, but has female-ish biology (I kept that part vague), pronouns are gender neutral though!

Minors get the fuck out of here, you aren’t welcome!

You were a rare species in the Republic. One deeply tied to emotion, expression and the moon. Your skin was littered with sparkling light that resembled the stars in the sky. Your eyes had a soft glow to them.

Your home had been destroyed, and in the chaos, loss and grief, The Force had awoken inside of you like a storm. It was a desperate attempt to save your village.

It failed. Because without training, what could you have done?

Your kind had scattered after the destruction of your planet. Population was low, there was no home for your people.

That was years ago. In that time you had been taken in by the Jedi Order. Recognized as a padawan then a Jedi knight.

In those years you had found a new family with the Order. You found happiness. A home.

And love.

Captain Rex. Serious. Stern. Yet so kind, hardworking and determined.

Handsome too. All the clones were handsome, but something about Rex…

Love was forbidden. No attachment. It made no sense to you. Love was sacred. To disregard your emotions and feelings was to disregard your culture.

However, you were given a good lashing by the council for your questioning of such a rule. And Rex wouldn’t risk his position. He’d be decommissioned if it was known he had romantic feelings for you.

So you didn’t act on your feelings. Neither did the clone captain for the longest time. You had settled for lingering touches and sidelong glances.

But when you stumbled in on Padme and Anakin….

Well, you’d keep their secret if they kept yours.

Rex’s lips were on yours. He had just returned from a long battle in the outer ridges of the Republic. In a not so subtle way, he had immediately gone to your private quarters, leaving before any of his other clone brothers had stepped off the ship. His helmet was placed on your desk, and his hands were on you.

“Rex,” you giggled as he peppered kisses all over your face, “Rex, I missed you too,” your arms were draped over his shoulders.

“Hm.” His rough voice was soft, “Need this. Need you, mesh’la.”

You let him do as he pleased with no argument, the captain was often affectionate whenever he returned. He had your heart in the palm of your hand. You had his.

Your thoughts drifted, thinking of home. Thinking of the many shows of adoration in your culture. Would he enjoy learning and experiencing such a thing?

There was something you wanted to do with the clone captain. But it was permanent. A deeply intimate process that the most devoted of couples would perform.

It couldn’t be forced. All parties had to be willing, and whoever you chose for it would be the only one to share it with you.

It was a sharing of emotions. A connection of the minds. A binding of the nervous system, so one’s internal feelings became physical. And the result afterward, no matter where either of you were, you could sense each other’s emotional state.

“Rex.”

He paused at your words and pulled back, “Oh! Did I do something wrong?” His warm eyes had concern in them.

“No, I just…” your hands held his, “I want to do something, but…” what could you say? How could you fully explain this to him?

“Mesh’la,” his hand cupped your cheek, “What is it?”

You swallowed, he was picking up on your nervousness, “it’s called reeshi,” it felt strange speaking your language, it’s been so long since you’ve spoken your mother tongue, “The closest way I can translate it is heart-sharing.”

Rex remained silent, looking at you in interest as you explained the process. It only took skin to skin contact, and it would allow for him to feel what you feel. And you him. The effect would be a link to each other's emotions. So even at a distance, you would know how the other was feeling.

There was a single downside, if Rex would die, your mind would shatter, and you couldn’t heart-share with anyone else. He would be your literal one and only.

You’ve seen the result of such a thing years ago. They were a husk. Unable to feel anything anymore. They barely had any functionality. It was like speaking to a hollow shell of a being. As if a crucial part of their mind was missing and broken.

“You’re telling me, if I fell in battle,” he furrowed his brow, grip tightening on your hips, “You…would just break?”

“I suppose that’s one way to say it…Yes.” Your hand trailed down his chest, “but…I…I want to….” You murmured, looking deep into his beautiful eyes. Your lips were so close to him, “With you…”

Rex kissed you sweetly before he pulled back, “I…I can’t risk it. Not for you.” Tangled in his concern and worry was fear. You recognized it easily.

He feared harming you. Feared dying and leaving you with a permanent scar.

Oh…he’s so sweet…

Outside this room, he was captain Rex. Leader to hundreds of clones. A battle hardened warrior. But with you? He was your love. Your kar’ta.

“Rex…”

“I’m a clone. Someone who was made to fight and die in battle. For the republic.” He damn near growled, “If you and I…did this…”

“I want it to be with you.” Your fingers interlocked with his, “It’s worth it.” You murmured, “you’re worth it. clone or not. Republic or not…you’re worth everything to me.”

He kissed you again. One strong arm held the small of your back. The other was holding your face still. By the time you two separated, your breath had been taken.

“You…” Rex whispered, “are incredible.” He pulled you closer to kiss you again and again, “hell, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You responded softly, kissing him again. Your lips only left his when your back was on your bed and he caged you between his arms.

He swallowed, looking down at you. You must seem so small when he’s over you like this.

“You said heart-sharing requires skin to skin contact?” The captain asked, keeping his eyes on you.

You nodded and he removed his left glove with his teeth.

Oh stars, this man is attractive. He knew how to get you hot and bothered. Between the kisses and touches, his armor and your clothes were stripped, leaving you both bare.

His fingers interlocked with yours. Your gaze met his and you spoke, “I want to make sure you want this too.”

Rex nodded, “yea…yea I do. But…are you sure? I’m just-“

“You’re more than just a clone.” Your words were honest. Resolute. Your tone indicated that you weren’t going to argue.

The captain let out a short, breathy laugh, “Alright mesh’la…as long as you’re ok…keep going.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Your focus was on the man over you. You thought of him and only him, opening up a bridge between you two.

Your minds connected, tying together like a soft ribbon. In a way, you formed your souls together, becoming a single entity melded together by love.

All at once, it felt like cold water splashed over you before giving way to warmth. Rex’s mind was receptive to yours. Connecting together like a puzzle. His breath hitched, and he fell onto his forearm, keeping you under him.

Your eyes opened. You could feel his thoughts. His emotions. Physically, you could feel his skin. His scars. His heartbeat. He was all you knew at the moment. Your free hand was at the back of his neck, holding him close.

Only him.

He trembled, nervous system feeling you.

You. You. You.

Rex’s entire purpose was you.

Even when he buried his face in your shoulder, you could feel him. Rex was overwhelmed. Overcome with everything. He was open and bare for your mind. You were peering into his existence, seeing every dark corner inside of him.

This was a vulnerability he didn't think was possible.

Tied to it all was pleasure. Deep, piercing pleasure.

“M-mesh’la…” the captain’s throat was tight, struggling to process just what he was feeling. His words slurred ever so slightly, “Kar'taylir darasuum. Aalar bid jate…riduur…” Rex’s brain fizzled out, forgetting Galactic Basic.

This deep…affection. This never ending love. It flooded his system, drowned him. His lungs were filled with your existence. His heart was racing with your passion.

“Rex…” you whispered his name so sweetly, “Are you ok?” You were aware that this process could be overwhelming for anyone outside of your race. Truthfully, you didn’t expect this to be so…intense for him. You felt his heightened emotional state. Everything was so sensitive for him, and it gave way to physical pleasure. He was struggling to fully understand it.

His grip on your hand tightened and he nodded, “Gedet'ye…elek…” Rex swallowed, shaking himself out of his daze. The reeshi clearly took him off guard. A rare moment where he was unsteady.

Along with his emotional state, you were connected to his physical reactions. You could feel his desire. His need. You could feel his want for your body. You bent your knee and used your calf to push him closer. He could feel exactly the same in you. A desperate attraction.

Rex shuddered, coming back to himself, “You’re going to kill me, mesh’la…” His voice was husky, “Can I…” He squeezed your hand again.

You raised your head and kissed him, sparks shot through the both of you, “I am yours, Rex.”

He lined up his cock and pushed into you.

Stars, this was intense. Your head was spinning, your heart was racing. His kisses on your neck felt like fire. Every touch was amplified because of reeshi.

Rex was trembling again. His nerves were alight with pleasure, both yours and his. He silenced himself by burying his face into your neck.

Your ankles crossed, pulling him even closer to you.

You were lost within each other as he rolled his hips over and over again. Your body was moving with the push and pull of rising pleasure. Like a wave, moving from your curled toes to your head.

The connection between you two remained steadfast. Your fingers remained interlocked with his, allowing the pleasure to be exponential.

Rex wasn’t his usual quiet self. He was more vocal, letting out soft heavenly moans. He kept his face on your shoulder, using your skin to muffle the sounds he made.

He was feeling good, you knew it. Your free hand trailed down his back, causing both him and you to shiver. The pads of your fingers traced over scars. The ones you’ve felt many times before. The same scars you kissed, letting the captain know how you loved each one.

The same feeling ghosted over your back. Every peck, every move, every emotion and feeling was a mirror between you both.

The pleasure was building. Your center became tight like a coil.

Rex was no better off. He was primed to break and fall to complete bliss. The pace of his thrusts was fast and sloppy. His coordination failed, entirely overwhelmed with the pleasure and ecstasy he was feeling, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” he breathed into your ear, “...Ni aalar bid jate…gar cuyir kandosii'la…elek…elek….”

His words caused you to go over the edge. Your head tilted back and you moaned his name. Bliss went through your system, doubling your lover's own pleasure. He was thrown into an orgasm, sending powerful shockwaves through you.

There was a burning on your shoulder as you felt Rex cum. He held you tightly, muffling his moans and keens into your skin. He held you tightly, muscles flexing, mind and body exploding with pure, unfiltered, hot euphoria.

Your breathing was heavy as the both of you came down from your compounded highs. Eyes closed, heart racing, you let yourself feel the warmth in the afterglow. It felt…sweeter…more heavenly.

Now, you two could feel each and every feeling after such intimacy.

“...Gar cuyir ner oyay…Gar cuyir ner narser…” Rex mumbled lowly, placing soft and tender kisses to your skin, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Mesh’la…Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum…” The clone captain was in a daze. His mind had broken under the pleasure and he needed a moment to recharge. But…seeing the man you loved so incoherent with bliss…

Well, you’d remember this scene for a long time.

He pulled back, moving to look over you. He was about to kiss you, before his warm brown eyes flicked to your shoulder, “o-oh…”

“Hm..?” One eye cracked open in curiosity. He was embarrassed, you could feel it in your chest. With a glance, you recognized a rather deep bite mark.

Oh.

Oh!

“Sorry, mesh’la.” Rex mumbled, not meeting your eye, “I...I guess everything got too intense.”

“S’ok…” Your smile was small, genuine and tired, “Just means you felt good.” You squeezed his hand and leaned up to kiss his lips tenderly. You wanted to stay like this with him forever. You wanted to forget the war outside. You wanted to forget the jedi code.

But stars, you were suddenly so exhausted.

Reeshi was tiring for you. It was a steady drain of your energy, and you had to stop.

But you really didn’t want to.

The captain felt your exhaustion, “Mesh’la?” With his free hand, he cupped your cheek, “Are you ok?”

You nodded, “Yea…” your head turned to look at your clasped hands, “Reeshi is…tiring…” It made sense, the two of you were connected mentally, emotionally and physically, and you were acting as the bridge.

“Oh…” he whispered. You felt his sadness. He seemed to enjoy being tied to you in such an intimate way, “Then…stop, if you need. I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

With another nod, you closed your eyes. Severing the connection was easier than establishing it. However, neither you nor Rex’s mind wanted to disconnect. You untangled the silken ribbon that tied the both of you together.

In the end you were left with an empty feeling in your heart.

A tear fell onto your chest and your riduur buried his face back into your neck. You could still feel his sadness at the back of your mind, but it wasn’t as strong. He could feel your own, even if you couldn’t cry tears of water at the loss of heart-sharing.

Instead of being tangled together in a web of affection and love, your emotions were connected by a thread. Small, seemingly fragile, but still connected.

That thought alone gave you comfort. The two of you were still connected in a way that others wouldn’t understand.

“Sorry…” he mumbled, “I didn’t think this would hit me so hard…it feels like I’ve lost a part of myself.”

Your smile was soft, “me too,” you admitted, “But…instead, you have a part of me. And I have a part of you.”

Rex shifted, laying on his side to hold you close, “i rather like that thought.” His warm lips pecked your forehead, “I love you, mesh’la.”

“I love you too, kar’ta.” you whispered back.

#captain rex x reader #star wars the clone wars #star wars tcw #tcw x reader #star wars x reader #captain rex #star wars smut #commander rex #reader insert #tw: smut #my writing

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vibratingskull · 3 months

Note

Hello!!! I love love love your yandere thrawn!!! Could I please request yandere thrawn x rut/heat?

Maybe as the rut approaches he gets more possessive and obsessive, watching reader more carefully and preparing his chambers for reader. Reader might notice the extra tension in thrawn but just assumes he's worried about his campaign or something. Then when the rut actually hits he's like in the middle of a meeting and kicks everyone out to take reader.

Thank you for all your writing!!!

OMG Yandere Thrawn in heat/ rut ????? So sexy! That's a brilliant idea I may steal it for my main yandere... Who knows... Stay tuned 😇

Thrawn x F!reader

Tags: Yandere behavior (duh), possessive, jealousy, Thrawn's first time, cunni, fingering, P in V, creampie, breeding kink

Everything is perfect.

Thrawn planned absolutely everything for you, you’re the only one missing now.

He takes a look around in his large suite on his ISD. He measures his chances. He truly does. He knows meeting his one and only is something that only happens to the most lucky, so many people live and die without ever meeting their true other half. So for him to have the chance of meeting you, he considers himself extremely lucky. And he harbors the hope you do too!

And soon he intends to honor you like you deserve to be.

He ordered a lot of new pillows everywhere to create nests for you to lay down and relax.

He will lay you down in all of them and take you tenderly all night long.

He added a lot of new surfaces in his quarters, if you're freaky enough he will gladly take you on them too. Anything to amuse you.

He is quite excited and a bit nervous actually. This is his first rut with a partner. Back at the Ascendancy nobody caught his eyes so he took pills to suppress his rut all his life to keep them at bay. He got through life watching couples flourishing and getting at it passionately when the rut came. To him it always was more of an annoyance and disturbance in his work. Try to keep a crew focused when their instincts are screaming at them to take their partners to bed! A real challenge. Thanks to the Warrior, the Syndicure passed a law forcing each warrior and officers to take suppressants, now calm and peace came back on the bridge and he could speak to level headed adults and not toddlers in uniforms consistently on the verge of implosion. Honestly, this aspect of the Chiss species was such a burden! What a shame to be diminished to a rabid animal when you are civilized like them! For those reasons Thrawn always hated that part of himself, what a relief he felt when Thrass offered him a pill to calm down his ardors when he developed his firsts pulsions. The sensation of freshness and renewed control he felt when he gulped down that little pill for the first time… Truly a blessing!

If there is something Thrawn absolutely despises, it’s the loss of control.

But then, he met you.

Perfect you.

Adorable you.

How could he have predicted you? So far away from his people and civilisations, in an empire of aliens, how could he have predicted to meet his perfect match? The first time he saw you, he knew. He knew the Warrior created you for him and him only. You were standing at attention, your back straight and head high with a little smile to greet him for his promotion to Grand Admiral. Did he find you beautiful? No idea. You just immediately caught his eyes, like a firefly is tempted by light he was drawn to you by a force beyond his understanding.

He felt like he was struck by lightning when he first heard your chuckle at one of his dry humored responses to a fool of an officer, and that was the sweetest sound he ever heard in his life! And you are so intelligent… He have the greatest pleasure inviting you to his office to strategize all night long

If only your stupid boyfriend wasn’t in the way.

That jackass had no style nor class, why were you in a relationship with him in the first place? You must have felt pity for him, with such a great heart of yours, you must have felt bad for that poor fool and decided to offer him a chance once in his miserable life.

And that idiot did not take the measure of his chance! Taking you for granted, speaking loudly over you, pressing you against his sweaty body all day long, clearly undeserving of you…

But you still looked at him with heart eyes, drinking his words like gospel.

How?

Why?

Thrawn could not tolerate it, he felt love for the very first time he was not going to let you fly away from him that easily, especially for a loser such as him. So he started to take actions, giving you conflicting agendas to make it hard for the both of you to see each other, making one work when the other was sleeping. When he had no choice but to have you both on the bridge at the same time Thrawn made sure to humiliate him as much as possible with a stern expression and impossible questions, slowly but surely your view of your man was tarnished, slowly but surely you started to get disinterested and distanced yourself from him.

His plan was working to perfection.

And during that time, Thrawn worked to place himself in your life as a friend, a comforting presence and a shoulder to put your head on. He let you see parts of him he never revealed to anybody, not even Ar’alani nor Eli, you spend so many sleepless nights chatting on your comlinks and he truly felt your relationship growing more intimate and purposeful. He called you during your leave, innocently asking about your days and your daily routine. He once learned your favorite drinks and at your next shift they miraculously appeared on the menu of the Mess hall. Your little bedroom suddenly changed to a larger one for “suspicion of vermin infestation”, one suspiciously closer to Thrawn quarters and away from the other dumbass. You had full access to Thrawn office for you to take care of the Ysalamiry together, you who love them so much! He keeped showering you with privileges and special moments with him.

Everything was falling into place, as he wished.

Until that idiot had the absolute nerve to ask your hand in marriage on the bridge, in front of everyone else!

A last desperate act to keep you with him, in a sense Thrawn understands him, he would never want to get separated from you, under any circumstances either. But outside the obvious infringement to any rule in place it is a direct attack on his honor and he was ready to send him to a cell for that alone and have him tortured. In secrecy, obviously.

You had the right mind to ask for time, but you didn’t immediately say no either. To Thrawn's horror. With you impressed by the sudden boldness of the fool, all his hard work could go to waste.

So he had to intervene drastically and kill him off. It was quite simple, a land mission, a quick shot at the back of the head, dumping the body in the nearest river after plucking out all his teeth and cutting all his fingers and flying far away, abandoning the corpse to the unchained elements.

Oh you were devastated, in tears for days. Days that you spent in Thrawn’s arms, hugging you tightly to appease your pain and relieve you. He cradled you day and night, slowly infiltrating your daily life, making his presence an evidence.

He knows the kind of cold and imposing aura he gives off so he took care to be as tender and soft as possible, giving you glimpses of his loving, intimate side.

And you were hooked!

Soon after you shared your first kiss. He was caressing your cheek, his gaze traveling to your soft, plump lips and leaned forward to capture them. You froze, surprised, but responded quickly, circling his neck with your arms and opening your mouth for his tongue.

He was in heaven!

Finally!

He had you for himself! To avoid any miscommunications he immediately asked you to go official, you accepted and sealed your vows with another languorous kiss.

Which brings us to today.

He never forced himself on you, going at your pace for your comfort. But that doesn’t mean he can’t initiate actions, so he will seduce you out of your mind and take you to bed this week and he will taste the pleasure of the rut for the first time of his life. He will indulge so much! Keeping you in bed for a full week, breeding you over and over, authorizing you to leave the nests only for the most basic necessities and grabs you back in the sheets immediately.

He will get you addicted to him, to his cock. Absolutely ruining any other man for you. He will make sure you become pregnant, locking you with him forever. You are not a cruel woman to deny your child a father, no matter how horrible he might be.

But he doesn’t have to be horrible to you…

If you stay with him, he will be the most gentle, tender lover you ever met, satisfying you beyond measure.

If you ever look at another person, however…

You will taste his wrath and learn your mistake in pain. But he does it for you both, so you cannot be mad at him, he knows what’s truly good for you and that it is him!

Solely him.

You need no one else in your life. Not even our family, if they ever pose a threat to your happy couple he will cut them off entirely, or kill them altogether if they insist. You do not need them anyway, you will forget them rapidly when he will be plaguing our mind 24/7. Just as you do to him.

He absent-mindedly caresses a pillow of one of the nests. Younger him never knew why Chiss bedrooms were so large and had so many pillows in them.

For the nests obviously.

Apparently it is quite common for couples to prefer a nest of pillows, plaids and plushies to their bed. And for the first time in his life he understands why.

Oh he cannot wait…

Embracing you in those soft, fluffy nests and taking you languorously until you cry out of love and exhaustion while he keeps thrusting deep into you. Your cute face in tears and forced into the plushies while you squirt violently around his cock.

He caresses his lips with a deviant smile, oh he’s going to enjoy it so much… Having you completely cock drunk, a babbling mess while he towers over you in full control. Oh that is going to be so sweet…

And you will become pregnant! Let’s not forget that delicious fact.

He cannot wait to see you round with his child, maybe his twins or triplets. He will give you so many children! Chiss have very large families, by blood or association, he is no exception, his instincts scream at him to procreate as much as possible with you.

He wants to meet his children now, having them running around you both all day long… He will find you the perfect house or little cottage to raise them, they will have a swing and a dog and so, so many siblings to play with!

He knows you’re not on the same page considering your relationship. You are such a free spirit, always fluttering around to chances, to opportunities… He actually has the greatest difficulties keeping you chained down to him, you always seem to find a way to escape with a laugh and sparkling eyes, forcing him to sprint after you in hope to catch you. You're teasing him so much! You are his little birdie he desperately wants to cage. And as stimulating as it is for him it is also incredibly frustrating, why won’t you just settle with him? Why make things difficult? He has nothing against using chains and gags but he would like you to be happy at his side, not just a captive. But once pregnant you will do the only respectable thing to do and marry him, because you are so responsible!

Then you will be with him forever.

He also prepared for that, he modified his diet, intensified his training routine and started to take fertility boosters everyday. One morning you stayed to sleep in his suite, you asked him what was that small orange pill he took. He lied to you, pretending it was only vitamins. You would have been so scared, and he doesn’t want to scare you, only to back you into a corner.

You are two different species after all, he cannot let those things to the hazard.

One week ago when he felt the first symptoms of the heat he gulped down twice the dosage, just to be sure…

He used to hate those symptoms, those heat waves and sore muscles, but today he welcomes them with so much pleasure. He also felt growing territorial and possessive. He always tolerated you having friends, he’s not a complete monster, but those last few days? They realized how terrifying he could be with a single glance in their direction. They didn’t even have to speak with you, only standing in your vicinity was enough to send him into a boiling rage! Especially the males! He would appear from out of nowhere, his aura murderous and shooting them with his red gaze and dump them with even more chores and duties, especially on the other side of the Chimaera, far away from you, his darling.

One had the nerve to hug you and Thrawn pushed you into the shower and scrubbed your naked body for a full hour despite your complaints to get rid of his disgusting scent. He couldn’t help it, it was making him gag, smelling another male on you. He laid all night long on you, crushing you in place with his weight, until he could smell only his own musk on you when the morning came.

You didn’t see that friend from then on…

His alarm blares off, signaling him it is time to head to the board rooms where he organized a session with all his superior officers to strategize the next campaign. You’ll be here obviously. He will gorges himself of your scent and presence, boosting him for the rest of the day.

No, for the whole month!

He walks peacefully towards the board room, back straight and head high when he starts to feel a heat wave approaching. Oh well, he will take a shower later.

He turns a corner and smiles.

You are here, waiting for him, your datapad in hand. You never wait for him at his suite, too visible and he likes his privacy, so you took the habits to wait for him mid-way.

He doesn’t slow down, letting you adjust to his pace, and your two hands graze for a split second before going back to their places.

“Good morning, Grand Admiral.” You greet with a little smile.

He takes pleasure at seeing your face lightning up when he appears in a room, how your eyes sparkle and your smile grows larger.

“Good morning, Captain.”

“You seem tense. Are you alright?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

Oh sweet adorable you, you know him so well… And you always take care of him, noticing in one glare that something changed in him, not that he tried to hide it from you. You can see those parts of him, you are allowed.

And those heatwaves are not really comfortable…

“Am I?” He asks with a lopsided grin, “Quite the contrary, I feel full of energy.”

“Really? Good.” You smile gently at him. “We will need it for today!”

You think about the strategies, he thinks about the bed.

“I am sure it will be a productive day.” He slowly nods, approvingly.

“With you it is always a productive day.” You chuckle.

Your scent comes to brush his nose and he deeply inhales, inviting it deep into his lungs. It sets his nerves on fire, electrifying him to his core.

That feels so good…

You reach the board room where everyone else is waiting and take your place. Thrawn starts the holomap and the session can start.

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

Everything was going so well.

He was fully focused, mind set on his enemies and strategies, listening to his subordinates when it struck him.

Like a lightning.

All his muscles suddenly violently contracted, chasing all the air out of his lungs. His usually so well organized mind completely froze like stunted. It was so violent he almost lost his balance and collapsed. But he held on,standing firm on his feet.

And now there is only one thing he cares about.

You.

“Everyone… Out.” He says so coldly a shudder spreads through the assistance.

“Sir? Did we do-” One starts to speak to understand this sudden shift of behavior.

“Out!” He shouts.

Everyone scurries outside, it’s the very first time they ever heard him raise his voice and they don’t intend to hear more!

“Captain (F/n), you stay.” He orders harshly.

He feels his cock gorging itself with blood, getting warmer and constricted in his tight pants.

So this is how it truly feels…

The sudden craving, hunger for flesh, that urge commending all his senses and priorities. A desire so powerful his only thought is to breed you immediately, right here and there, like an animal.

You remain still, worried. You look at him, hugging your datapad against your plump breast, well hidden under that stupid green uniform. He wants to tear it all apart, destroying it completely to discover your sweet naked body.

His hard gaze is on those incompetents that still didn’t evacuate the room, he turns towards the young ensigns absolutely terrified, pressing themself at the door to leave as quickly as possible.

If they don’t go away he will take you in front of them without any shame!

They must have felt his black gaze on them because they suddenly manage to pass through the door and disappear away from him.

The door shuts close.

And he now turns towards you.

You are now completely alone with a seemingly pissed off Grand Admiral Thrawn.

You are terrified beyond measure. He never raised his voice. Ever. He looks at you with a dark glare, like he could eat you up in one bite.

You gulp.

He starts to walk towards you, skirting the holomap, dark eyes fixed on you, frowning terribly. You press your datapad closer against you in a soothing manner. Did you do something? Said something? Angered him in some way?

“Thrawn? Is something wrong?” You ask with tremors in the voice.

You hope talking to him would snap him out of him but he keeps walking towards you like a carnivore having cornered a prey.

“Thrawn…” You call again.

In complete silence he seizes your datapad out of your grasp and just breaks it in half like it’s nothing before tossing it aside. You gasp, shocked.

“Thrawn, if I did-”

You have no time to finish your sentence, his large hand comes to grasp your throat and pushes you against the wall where he captures your lips in a demanding kiss.

What the fuck is going on?!

Everything was well, he listened patiently to his colleagues with a little smile and suddenly his eyes widened and he ordered everyone out. And now he is pressing you against the wall to kiss you.

Where is your sweet, tender boyfriend?

He presses his hot large body against yours, more petite in comparison. He squeezes your throat as he forces you to open your lips to let his tongue enter your mouth. He groans in the kiss like a pissed off tiger as his tongue meets and hugs yours.

You feel his erection against your pelvis, he brushes your groins together, leaving no doubt in your mind about what’s going to happen next. You moan pitifully, feeling a mixture of terror and excitement, feeling your southern muscles contract in response.

He suddenly grabs the back of your neck and pushes you unceremoniously against the console of the holomap, you’re bent over the metallic structure with your respiration cutted. You have no time to register what he just did, he is behind you, towering over your figure and gripping the fabric of your pants and violently pulling them. You hear the sound of teared off fabric.

“Thrawn!” You shout indignant. “What the hell?!”

He pulls on your sweet panties.

He childishly hoped you would not be wearing any undergarments, like a naughty girl, but opening you like a present is also nice.

You try to rise up but are immediately pushed back down with his hand on the back of your neck.

“Do. Not. Move.” He orders with a chilling tone inviting zero resistance.

So you remain bent over, immobile, feeling the cold air hitting your exposed pussy. You gulp, throat dry, devoured by anxiety.

And anticipation…

You suddenly feel his wet tongue parting your folds. You grip the metal for dear life as he starts eating you out voraciously, like a starved animal.

“Oh my god, Thrawn…” You gasp, out of your mind.

He locates your clit and starts teasing it with sweet laps, circling it, gliding across it. He moans loudly to excite you further and you start feeling your slick leaking out of your pussy to roll on your thighs. He takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it avidly, like a lollipop, making it roll between his lips and titillating it with the tip of his warm tongue.

Where did he learned to eat out women so well?

He, himself, doesn’t know. He just acts on instincts right now and they are telling him to devour your sweet pussy first.

You press your hand on your mouth and immediately feel him bite the tender flesh of your thigh.

“I forbid you to remain silent.”

And to prove his point he takes a big, sloppy lap with the flat of his tongue from your clit to your perineum. You can’t help but moan in response, your legs starting to tremble under his care.

“You are getting so wet.Good.” He praises you but the tone is dark and… dangerous.

He parts your pussylips with two fingers and probs your entrance with his tongue, drinking your slick loudly.

“Ah! Thrawn…” You choke on your words.

“What is it darling? No man ever honored you this way? Such a shame.” He tuts.

He grabs your butt with his two hands and penetrates you with his long, warm tongue. You can feel it waves inside you, grazing your sweet spot so deliciously, he circles it and glides across it with the tip of his tongue.

Gosh, he wants to take you right now but you could never take his size without any preparation. And he has always been curious about your pussy’s taste, and despite his urges it seemed like a good choice to him. His instincts are always right.

And your sweet gasps go straight to his dick, he is getting so painfully hard just hearing and tasting you. This is so addictive. He suddenly understands all those couples he used to look at with disdain.

This is just so… Right!

He is not eating you out gently, but like a starved animal who just found a juicy piece of meat. He growls and purrs, satisfied by your tremors and quivers under his touch.

This is how you should be with him all the time, a good girl for him to play all day long, a little bit fearful and dripping wet.

He expertly opens his trouser to free his erection and starts pumping it in rhythm with your sweet mewls. You are like a little bird who sang for him the sweetest melodies.

He have no idea if you ever squirted in your life but this is now his mission, you are not leaving his embrace until you squirted for him, no matter how many tries it takes, how many hours he will have to fuck you, you’re going to do it. For him. For his pleasure.

He slurps down your essence loudly, satisfied with your taste. This is quite savory, you’re about to become his new favorite dish!

“How does it feel?” He teases between sips, “Do you like it?”

You, on your end, just cannot respond. The only sounds passing your lips right now are desperate moans as he eats you out conscientiously. Your brain is freezed in a fight or flight response.

“My little bird does not wish to sing to me?” He growls.

And he slaps your pussy with his palm. You shake with a groan of pain and pleasure.

“Ah! It… I’ve never done that…” You confess, panting.

Good.

Your pussy will only know his lips and no one else. Only him will make you feel this good.

“Vocalize your pleasure louder. I want the whole Chimaera to know who’s making you feel this good.”

He laughs at himself internally. Him who gave you specific hours to meet him, who refused to visit you to your cabin to not be seen, who took care of hiding your scandalous affair to anyone else is ready to throw everything through the window if it means everyone knows you belong to him and him only right now!

The rut is truly something else.

“Thrawn!” You call for him when he resumes tonguefucking you.

But he can’t help it, you just taste so good. He will eat you out every morning from now on, who cares if someone saw you come and go out of his quarters now?

Not him, not anymore.

You come really hard, so much you feel your pussy spurting something in his face with great force. Whatever it was, his purr gets way deeper. He reached his goal and you delivered splendidly! He licks his lips clean of your essence, feeling it beading from his chin.

That was even better than he anticipated, the little jump his heart did when you squirted in his mouth like if he was a young child being offered candy!

You try to catch your breath, still bent over the console, shaken by that orgasm. When was the last time you orgasmed like that? Have you ever?

“Oh thank the Maker it’s over…” you pant.

“Over?” You hear a dark chuckle freezing you down your core, “Oh sweet thing. This is only the beginning.”

You feel his erection pressed against your spasming pussy, coating his shaft with your release. He feels… Large. Really large. Not that you are really surprised given his size, of course his penis would be as large as him. What you cannot determine however is his length.

You bite your lips in anticipation.

You feel his tip probing your entrance, before feeling him pushing it inside.

Oh dear gods! He is so massive! Your inner muscles work to welcome his size inside of you but you feel him splitting you up in two.

Your mouth opens in a perfect O trying to accommodate his size, that’s a real challenge!

“Your little pussy struggles to take me, and I am not halfway through.” He sadistically notes.

He’s not halfway through?!

No way! How are you…? How could you…?

“Stop struggling.” He orders, “I feel you clenching all around my cock, if you do not want me ramming into you immediately it is best you relax.”

“I’m-I’m trying!” You complain.

He keeps pushing inside, filling you more and more, reaching depths you didn’t even know you had.

“Relax, Cha’cah. Breath.” He talks you through it with a softer tone like he is pitying you. “We are almost there.”

You feel his ridges brushing your inner walls, you feel his cocks having some sort of scales made of somewhat hard flesh but they caress your soft flesh so deliciously… You gasp, breathless when you feel his tip brushing your cervix deep inside you.

Such a curious sensation, none of your partners managed to do it without folding both of your bodies in weird angles, but Thrawn reaches it without any difficulties.

Finally… You feel his hips brushing your butt, he is fully in. And that’s a feat!

“You squeeze me so much, my darling.” He says in a gasp, “You were tailor made for my cock.”

“I feel so stuffed!” You manage to let out while you try to take back your breath.

Having his complete length inside you just chased all the air out of your lungs and your little pussy stretched to its maximum. If you were on your back and not your stomach you would see a bulge, that’s for sure.

“Well, thank you, my darling.” He darkly chuckles, “And this is all for you. Only for you. Now relax.”

And without leaving you anytime to adjust to his size he starts thrusting inside you. Deep, hard thrusts that punch air out of our lungs each time and threaten to knock you over the console. You feel his hips hitting your pussy harshly like a bull, assaulting your poor body.

“Oh Maker! Thrawn, slow down! Please!” You choke on your own words.

He rocks you so hard you almost bite your tongue at each back and forth movement. He fucks you roughly, without regards for your comfort on that sturdy console. You feel your poor pussy trying to take him ramming his whole length into you, a good thing he made you come before that, your release helps him slip inside easily but doesn’t help his massive size problem.

“I will not slow down.” He annonce, deaf to your cries, “You can take it, I know it. You can take anything I give.”

He grips your arms and holds them firmly with one hand on your back while the other holds your hip, preventing you from falling forward.

He fucks you as voraciously as he ate you out, gluttonously and harshly. He keeps his merciless pace as you try desperately to conserve some dignity as you feel him fucking your brain out. You feel your pleasure growing, not softly and nicely but like a furious wave growing like a tsunami under his brutal rhythm. So much that a bit of drool starts dripping out of your mouth.

His tip hits your cervix relentlessly and his ridges scratch the inside of your pussy savagely, scratching every sweet spot at once and making you see hyperspace behind your eyelids.

“Blast!” You shout.

“What foul language, my darling. Should I also fuck your mouth to teach you manners?”

His hand holding your hip sneaks under your stomach to reach your nervous clit, pulsating with your heartbeat. He starts rolling it between his fingers while he rams into you like an animal. He pounds into you like it is his last day alive and you can’t do anything but take it, like a toy for him to play with. You can do so little you are barely more than a fuckdoll for him.

He is torn on his end.

On one hand this is so pleasurable, so fantastic, it sends him in such spirals of pleasure and heightens all his senses in such fashion! He gorges himself on your scent, of your pathetic moans of the wet sounds of your little pussy…It drives him so crazy, he wonders if he could ever slip out of you.

He would surely die if he ever did that.

And on the other end he hoped to take you nicely and languorously during hours on end for days, helping you reach new heights of pleasure and taking care of you romantically, not take you like a monster. Him who used to treat you so tenderly in each and every fashion like the fragile porcelain doll you are…

But this rut…

This is something so strong, so unstoppable and unfightable.

It took him by complete surprise, robbing him of his control.

But for once in his life he decides that is not so bad…

He gasps as he feels your small pussy clenching around his large girth. You strangle him so, so well, just the right size for him to enter and squeeze him deliciously. You truly are made for him and his cock.

And absolutely no one else!

He hopes you would be able to forgive him for fucking you in such a way! You deserve to be worshiped and idolized like a goddess all night long, and he had the firm attention to pamper and venerate you like his personal Empress, like the slave to your grandeur that he is… He will make it up to you! He will spend the next hours adoring you for you to pardon him for his transgression!

You feel your pussy clenching more and more under the growing waves spreading in your veins, setting fire to each nerve ending until you scream Thrawn’s name out loud.

It was completely unprompted, it escaped you while you tried to gasp for air but your orgasm crashed on you so suddenly it took you by surprise. The tsunami reached the shore and is devastating everything in its wake.

“Keep screaming, cheo Cha’cah. I want everyone to know who is fucking you this good.”

You convulsing around him pushes him beyond pleasure and he comes inside you without your consent after three more deep thrusts, he buries himself deep, spurting his seed in your most secret place. He feels your entire body tensing then slump, like all your strength escaped your organism with a “oof.”

He gently caresses the cheeks of your butt with his large warm hands as he catches his breath, still deep inside. He slips his disheveled strands of hair back on his head and opens his jacket to get rid of his now sweaty shirt.

This is a really nice physical exercise! Far more enjoyable than those repetitive and boring reps. It could become his new routine! He always has been more than serious with his training, but he would look up to this new exercise each day, he would partake with so much enthusiasm!

You surely would not object! He would give you so much pleasure each and every day…

He slips out of you and makes you roll on your back. You are still catching your breath while he has already recovered. Humans are no match for Chiss stamina after all. He growls as he sees his semen oozing out of you.

You are already wasting it!

He collects it with his fingers and pushes it back inside, penetrating your sex with his slender digits. He sees you shaking with this simple touch, you are still so sensitive after all… He cleans you with his fingers, fingering it back inside your greedy womb that tries to retain him inside. He grins lightly. Your body doesn’t seem satisfied with two orgasms and seems to already call for him and his skillful talents again.

You, on the other hand, seem exhausted.

He enters you again, localizing your G-spot easily and starts brushing it eagerly. You mewl tiredly in response but your body answer is undeniably positive, your pussy stretches enthusiastically, dripping wet, and your legs spasm each time he scratches your spot with the pad of his fingers.

“Thrawn…” You try to call, your hand lazily raising to grab his arm and stop him.

But you have no energy left and let your hand fall back to your side. He keeps fingering you, enjoying the ungodly wet noises of your pussy, stuffed with his white cum.

One won’t be enough.

You need to do it again. Over and over again, until your cute tummy is completely bloated with his semen.

Then, and only then, he will consider he did a sufficient job.

He pushes a third finger inside and you whimper, like sweet music, he scissors you thoroughly admiring your entrance gaping around his fingers. He can’t believe such a little pussy could take him so well, he actually thought you would not and break under him. But you did. And quite well, considering it.

You gave him so much pleasure already, choking his shaft so lusciously, hugging his form so perfectly he felt like he could mold your insides for his specific shape, ensuring that any potential rival is terribly disappointing to you.

But there will be no potential rival. In any shape or form.

“Thrawn…” You pitifully call again, your chest rising up and down as you breathe.

“Is there a problem, cheo Cha’cah? Are you in pain?” He investigates, just to be sure.

He is not a monster after all.

“No… No but-” You throw your head back with pleasure as he accelerates his ministrations. “Ah!”

You’re in no pain, that’s all he wanted to know.

“Let it happen, my darling. There is no use fighting it, let me take care of everything.” He charms you with his enthralling deep, melodious voice.

He circles and crosses your G-spot, rubbing it roughly while adding pressure with a hand on your venus mound, earning sobs and moans from your part. He adds pressure on your clit with his thumb, gliding across it and flicking it, feeling you dripping off his hand as he hooks you from inside. He accelerates his care, stretching your pussy good as you tremble under his hand, knuckles deep, curling and spreading them, making his fingers twirl to caress any inner surfaces of your pussy. He then resumes fingering you mercilessly until you cry your eyes out, big tears rolling down as your pussy spasms around his soaked digits.

You come again, shuddering dramatically. While you try to catch your breath again, Thrawn lowers himself to the level of your pussy to make sure all of his potent semen was inside, where it should be. He traces your pussylips with his fingers, utterly fascinated by that jewel of nature.

He kisses your slit with reverence and raises back on his feet.

He looms over you and opens your green jacket and pulls your shirt over your bra. He takes out his hidden vibroblade and cuts it open, revealing your breast to his eyes. He feels his own eyes rounding up as he discovers them in plain sight, your nipples standing up to attention as the cold bites them.

Your boobs are just to his taste, just how he likes them.

He grabs them in his large hand and kneads them good, rolling your nipples between his fingers. He leans forward and takes one in his mouth, sucking on it.

Soon when he will do that again he will taste your milk. He will drink from your tits when they get heavy with milk. He cannot wait…

He kisses it and takes the other one in his mouth, licking across the soft skin, peppered it with soft kisses as you sobs, cheeks soaked, your hand coming to caress his hair.

He stands back straight, slicking his hair back, letting sweat roll on his gorgeous body, his deep blue skin glistening with all the flickering signals of the board room. His red eyes shine hungrily in the low light of the room, fixated on your form under him.

He pumps his cock one or two times, hardening already again and pushes it back inside, your essence acting up as lube. He watches fascinated how his penis disappears inside your body, a creamy O at his base.

The bulge is consequent and he can’t help a dark snicker. You are going to be gorgeous, all round with his child…

He resumes his hard thrusting, gripping your hips harshly, digging his nails in your soft flesh to keep you in place. He watches your boobs bobbing up and down, hypnotized. You whimper, tears rolling down your cheeks as all of this is way too much for you. You’re oversensitive and he keeps the pleasure rolling longer and farther, teasing your nerves until you broke down completely.

But he wants more.

He broke down your sentiments but he wants to break down your mind, utterly destroying it. He wants you dumb and cockdrunk, stuffed with his seed like the good girl he knows you are. So he keeps burying his girth deep in you, brushing your G-spot with the edges of his ridges

He needs to give you more loads or you’ll never get pregnant!

What if the pills he took were not enough? He worries at the back of his mind. What if nothing was enough and you’ll never get pregnant? What if your two species are ultimately incompatible?

He pushes these thoughts back.

Of course he’s going to get you pregnant. He is the Grand Admiral Thrawn, a warrior, a Chiss. Nothing is impossible to him.

He would not allow any other results.

He rocks his hips into yours, reveling in the pleasure you are giving him, he undulates his body with delight meeting your dripping sex, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoing in the large room. He chases both of your releases while you fully tremble underneath him, he seizes your thighs with his large hands and spreads them wide open, throwing your legs on his shoulders, allowing him to deepen his thrusts.

Oh that is just so good…

He hoped his first time would have been romantic and sweet. He still has a heart full of love and devotion after all, he thought that after a date at a museum he would have treated you to a nice dinner before carrying you to the bed and honor you all night long. But instead he is ramming into you like a beast, in the middle of his boardroom on his ship for all his crew to hear, trying to break you in a million pieces under him.

You truly never know what life has in store for you.

In all honesty, he didn’t know it would go so well. He is not young anymore and he feared entering you for the first time would have him come undone right here and there, and it almost happened! He had to collect all his will to not explode inside of you just by entering you. His honor would have never recovered if he came before satisfying his darling first!

What kind of man would he be then? One that only chases his own pleasure like a self centered jerk? He likes to think of himself as above that.

Granted, you are in this situation because he couldn’t help but chase his own release, but that is completely beside the point!

He circles his hips to vary the sensations and you bite into your lips in response.

“What did I say about silencing yourself?” He scolds you, growling.

He seizes your jaw, pressing your cheeks like a fish and leans forward dangerously, shooting you with his feverish gaze. You look so silly like that.

“This is the last time I warn you, understood?” He demands with a dark tone.

You can only nod with your silly expression, eyes round with surprise and submission. That looks good on you. He leans further to lick your cheek as he rocks his hips realizing you soiled it with your drool smeared all over your jaw. Did you lose all control, He wonders snickering?

He captures your lips for a messy kiss, tongue dancing and drool exchanged. You whine, having your air robbed out of you and he accentuates his thrusts to have you reach higher notes. He lays fully on you, taking you in his arms to hug you tight, his thrusts are still mean and hard, hurting your pelvis with his raw strength.

“Focus on kissing me, sweet thing.” He orders, between little kisses all over your jaw.

He feels you drooling on yourself as your lips meet again, that amuses him tremendously. He moans in the kisses, burying himself to the hilt as your pussy swallows him whole like it should.

His heart is singing. Is it what true bliss feels like? Being one with your other half…

He licks your lips as you roll your eyes inside your skull, too lost in the pleasure he gives you. He keeps bullying his length into you, embracing you with his long arms, he sneaks his hand under your shirt on your back and buries his nose in the crook of your neck to inhale your musk. His heart flutters, pumping his blood at 100 miles per hour. It has been so long since he felt excitement like that, such pure joy, having you close like that, sharing such an intimate and vulnerable moment with you. He brushes the tip of his nose on your neck, purring deeply while you keep whimpering in his ears, arms circled around his large form and legs circled around his waist, keeping him deep buried in your puffy pussy.

You long stopped trying to formulate sentences, your brain is too fried for you to speak proper Basic, instead just letting broken mewls escape you. But that is as good for him, that is a testimony of the overwhelming pleasure he is giving you and he revels in it with pride.

Your inner walls are all gorged with blood, fluffy and soft for his cock, your pussy is clenching almost painfully around him and your clit is pulsating furiously, begging for attention. You snake one hand between your two bodies to caress it, prompting Thrawn to look down at what you were doing.

“Sorry, my darling. You invaded all of my mind and I lost track of things.”He apologizes.

One of his large hands follows yours and starts to tease your bundle of nerves instead of your more petite hand.

What kind of idiot is he? How dare he lose himself so much to stop paying attention to your needs? He chastises himself.

He thoroughly rolls and presses your clit between his fingers as he undulates his hips with the energy of a beast. He resumes kissing you, feeling so light, like all his pressure and problems just vanished in your presence. He hugs your tongue with his, dancing with it, robbing you of your breath.

You feel the waves of pleasure spreading through your veins and your pussy, making it convulsing ferociously and you come for the fourth time, screaming Thrawn name.

Once again, your orgasm pushes his and he comes deep inside your womb for a second time.

This time you notice.

“You came inside?” You ask breathlessly, visibly worried, “I’m not on the pill!” You warn.

Of course he knows it already.

“Oh my.” He responds with a lopsided grin, caressing the bulge made by his shaft with his warm hand, “Then we will have no other choice but to take care of a little one.”

Abortion is out of the question. He is a firm defender of this right for women, of course, but for you? With his child? Out of the question. He will not even entertain the idea.

“What? … Are you sure?” You ask dumbfounded, “Is it not-”

“I will take my responsibilities with you and the kid, do not worry about anything.” He puts his forehead against yours, red eyes buried in yours. “I will not disappear and leave you alone.”

“It’s not what… I wasn’t accusing you of-”

“Everything will be alright. We will be together.” He embraces you tight. “You need not to worry.”

He cradles you gently, hearing your shallow, rapid breaths. He sighs, satisfied.

Well, not completely. Two is still not enough. He starts a back and forth movement again, but this time slow, gentle, loving, languorous…

“You are not tired yet?” You ask incredulously, at the end of your own rope.

“No.” He brushes his nose with yours, “I told you earlier I was full of energy today…”

He holds your cheeks in his hands, forehead against forehead, purring gently and deeply.

This.

This is true bliss. True happiness. You and him, locked together forever. Legacies tied in reputation and now blood.

“What will I do for my career if I get pregnant?” You start to worry.

He fights the urge to sigh, why won’t you drop the subject? Or better yet, why don’t you see it as the absolute marvelous good news for your couple as he does?

“You will not lose anything. I will keep you at my side whatever might happen. Like I said…” He looks into your eyes with the most serious expression you ever saw on his face and… Some underlying hunger and jealousy, “... Do not worry about anything.”

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