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auspicioustidings · 1 year ago

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The Gentle Duchess

Blue Blood Part 4

Summary: Continuation of the Blood Druid. Johnny finally teaches you about the things you want to know.

Word Count: 3.3k

CWs: Smut, just shameless smut (which I am still a beginner at so my sibling in Christ temper your expectations)

“Aye, I can teach ye. Good students dinnae yell at their teachers like that though, dae they? I ken ye’ll have been raised with all sorts of those nice gentle manners, so ask again nicely hen” Johnny said, looking down at you sat on the bed with no end of heated mischief in his eyes.

You had been raised with those nice, gentle manners. You had a reputation as such, the Gentle Duchess who was rarely ever seen at social events but always mild tempered when she did appear. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Powerful father so a decent prospect for marriage, no brothers. You had been ok with that, it wasn’t a bad thing to be known for being gentle. But right in this moment you understood the call to bloodlust that men at war held. You wanted to strangle this strange creature.

“Good teachers do not tease their students sir” you replied, curt and proper.

Something of an animal came across him when you had called him sir. You had meant it to be mocking, anyone of good breeding would know it was an insult being said in such a tone. But it affected him in some way that was frighteningly exciting.

“Ye want tae know whit it’d really be like if I wis teasing ye my lady?” he replied, voice seeming deeper now, the last two words coated in syrup.

He had leaned forward, putting his hands to either side of you and caging you in. Your heartbeat quickened and you felt a confusion in your blood, fighting to rush to either your cheeks or between your legs. Johnny watched in delight as you naturally leaned back, not even realising you were doing so until you were braced on your forearms, him continuing to follow to stay right in your space.

It was delicious watching you rebel for what was probably the first time in your life. He had met many women from the nobilities of these silly little Kingdoms, none quite as sheltered as you. And yet there was such a fight in you wrestling to get out. He knew it had always been there, knew that this was destiny for you to fall into their laps. He would bring out that fight, let you sharpen your nails on his skin and whet your teeth on his blood.

“Perhaps you should reevaluate your surety that you could truly tease me” you said, trying your best to emulate the way you heard the vipers of different social events speak. Polite in the most cutting of ways.

“Such a sharp tongue on ye” he grinned, putting a firm hand to the centre of your chest and giving one strong push.

With a soft oof you found your back on the bed, arms no longer holding you up. He readjusted, bringing one knee to rest on the small space at the edge of the bed between your legs and bracing one hand beside your head. The other he brought to your lips, two fingers bullying their way past to massage at your tongue.

“Cannae believe such a pretty wee mouth would gie me such an attitude” he cooed.

Your head may have been getting a little hazey, the sink into that floating space you had discovered this past couple of days feeling imminent, but you steeled yourself. You bit down, feeling a little satisfaction when he hissed and pulled his fingers away, shaking them out. Johnny was indulging you a little, he knew your bite had been controlled, gentle. You didn’t have it in you just yet to try to hurt him. He wondered if you ever would, but he thought it might be a good thing that your nature was more to be docile and gentle. He was more than sure he could push you to be mean, but for Simon a gentle love would be perfect.

“If you are not going to teach me, then I would prefer you go and play with someone else.”

“You bit me, feral wee thing.”

You tried to stop from going bright red, not able to stop it. Feral wee thing. You had never dreamed anyone would even have a passing thought to think of you in such a way. It made you feel a rush of heady satisfaction. Is this how a pampered cat must feel when it finds cause to sink its claws into something? The reminder that under all those frills and laces and poise there was still a predator?

There was a desperate want in you. Oh how you wanted and wanted and wanted. You wanted to bite him again to see him hiss, you wanted him to bite you so you could feel the sting. You wanted him to touch you. Oh Gods you wanted to touch him. You wanted to stop fighting and beg to touch him, show him how gentle and compliant you could be and have him coo sweet praises at you for it. You wanted to fight and fight and fight until he forced compliance out of you.

Johnny could see you at odds with yourself. He was pushing you he knew, probably too far too fast. How irresistible a temptation it was when it flushed you so, had you erratically grinding down on his knee without even realising it. Had your hands fisting the sheets, white knuckled in an attempt to keep from losing control and touching him. Touching yourself. Fuck, the little whine that had left you unbidden at his words had him painfully hard.

But there was another feeling aching away in his chest. His brothers in arms were 3 men he loved fiercely, he would call down the Gods to burn the world for them. Simon Riley especially. The man who had understood what it was like to be looked down on. When Johnny had first let Gaz talk him into joining the Duke’s little team, he had only done it because he thought the Prince was a bonnie thing he wouldn’t mind corrupting and because he wanted to see more of the world. It was Simon who noticed the way people would treat him. Like some untamed savage.

He enjoyed it for the most part, but it got lonely after a while to have everyone be scared of you. And then the big eejit in a mask had started dragging him to spar with the other soldiers, had goaded him into bantering little arguments at dinner where the servants in earshot could hardly hide their laughter, had told fantastical stories to wide eyed children about how Johnny’s homeland had cù-sìths and kelpies and unicorns and all sorts of magic bubbling away that had them constantly bothering Johnny to tell them all about it. He admitted he enjoyed telling them all about his home, treating them with ghost stories and tales of grand adventure.

It was only when he realised all at once that the people around here smiled at him in greeting that he had been fully aware of Simon’s cleverness and quiet care. The man was a monster on the battlefield, but so few saw that he was also fiercely loyal and he protected those he considered his. Looking at you, knowing that soon he would be giving you to the man who so fully deserved you, had his heart singing.

You would so perfectly compliment him, be the gentle place his heart could rest. Johnny felt such a rush of love for you then, the same warm light he got when communing with his Gods. He sent up a quick prayer, a thank you for sending you.

“Your aroused wee yin, that’s what this is.”

“What?”

“Ye wanted teaching naw?” he said, steady and encouraging as the bitten hand was placed on your waist, giving a warm squeeze. “This feeling, it’s arousal. This divine wee body wants touching, needs something inside.”

You heard your little noise this time, a startled note. You had tried to put your finger inside, it had felt foreign and uncomfortable. The Prince and the Duke hadn’t… well there was the Duke’s clever tongue. It made you see stars. Did it need to be a tongue?

“I tried that” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes out of shame.

You jolted when he pressed his lips against your jaw, kisses peppering over you and down to the neckline of your dress. The hand at your waist dragged leisurely down, rucking your dress up to your thigh before pausing there. He pulled his lips away.

“Look at me please.”

He had asked so achingly sweetly that you had little choice in the matter, meeting his eyes. He was different somehow, no less intense but the intensity was different. Softer in a way that was terrifying for a reason you couldn’t name.

“Fuck. Tha thu bòidheach” he said, almost breathless.

“I don’t…”

“Let me touch ye. Let me show ye how to feel good.”

Gone was the teasing, he seemed so sincere now. And he wasn’t pushing you either, the hand on your dress paused. With the others there hadn’t been anytime to really think about it. You had been overwhelmed with sensation. But now he gave you time, gave you a quiet moment to decide if this was something you wanted of him. And still, still you wanted.

“...please” you whispered, not even sure if the word was audible.

“Ok mo leannan, I’ve got ye. Going tae undress you.”

And undress you he did, achingly softly, until you were bare on the bed. He moved you with gentle touches to be fully laid out so he could straddle you and press his forehead to yours with an affectionate headbutt that made you scowl and butt him right back, causing him to chuckle lightly and nuzzle on you.

“Still my feral wee thing.”

He started trailing kisses from your jaw again, this time not meeting any fabric to stop him from continuing down to the swell of your breasts. His hand was firm on your stomach keeping you pressed down into the plush bed as he swirled his tongue around one of your nipples. Your body tried to arch without your permission and you nearly choked on your own saliva at the sharp gasp of pleasure escaping your lips.

“I… I can feel it between my legs. Ah! I-it’s like there is a path between them” you rambled, trying to fight against the urge to just lose yourself in the sensation so you could understand.

The wet pop of his mouth leaving you was obscene.

“Aye, to here” he said, hand coming to cup you. “Lots of names people call this.”

“His highness he- oh Gods I don’t- c-cunt! That’s what he called it.”

“Fuuuck. Never sounded so pretty a word before now. Whit did his royal pain in the arse call this then?” he asked, finger delving in to press at your clit.

“He called it my clit. Please!”

“Come on wee yin, use your words.”

“I - I don’t know!”

It was driving you wild, his fingers just sitting there pressing. Not moving. You were trying to wriggle as best you could with his other hand still holding you down, trying to get anything. You thought you might cry.

“Aye ye dae. Dinnae be a brat, tell me whit it is ye want.”

You lashed out, small hand grabbing at his hair and sharply pulling as you bared your teeth at him. You hated being called a brat and he had done it twice now. You were a Duchess, demure and proper. If anyone was being a brat it was him. He brought this out in you, this beast. If he was so determined to act like it was somehow you being the problem here then he could do something about it. Oh, wasn’t that a thought that got your blood hot.

“Move your fingers. Use your tongue. Do something!”

His pupils were blown out and he was panting like a dog at the little attack, baring his teeth right back with a feral grin.

“I’ll allow it my lady, jist this once. After ye get married, ye try that again and I’ll bend ye over and fuck your arse silly while the Prince eats out your cunt. Ye’ll be begging for us tae let your husband come take whit’s his by the time we’re through with ye.”

You didn’t fully understand, but it made you want to fight even more nonetheless. He still wasn’t moving his damn fingers. Deliberate of course on Johnny’s part. He had really thought he could be slow and loving with you, but he adored you spitting mad like this. You were so haughty, refusing to beg him pretty. He knew that Simon and Price would probably spoil you completely, it would be him and Gaz who would work you up like this, get you fighting.

“You insufferable man! I will not beg anything of you” you snapped, yanking him down so you could kiss him.

It was a battle more than anything, all tongues and teeth. The sounds were lewd and you did not care, only relishing in a small victory when he had to move his hands from between you to balance himself and you could wrap your legs around him, rolling your hips to get that friction he should have just given you in the first place. He moaned loudly into your mouth and you felt a hard length pressing into you beneath the heavy fabric of his kilt. It startled you enough to loosen your grip on him, allowing him to pull his mouth from yours, both of you panting and staring at one another.

“Did Gaz teach you the name for it?”

“He… I think he touched it, but he wouldn’t let me see.”

“Selfish Prince hm?”

Your legs tightened around him when he went to move off of you, not understanding. He gave your neck a small nip with his teeth which made you yelp and he used the distraction to pull away and stand. You turned to your side to look up at him in what you had wanted to be anger, but was more akin to looking like a kicked puppy. When he started to unwind the fabric covering him, you watched with fascination.

You could not look away from the heavy weight between his legs, hard. He wrapped his hand around it and you saw that it was leaking, his thumb catching on that liquid to slick himself up.

“Cock gets hard like this the same way that pretty cunt gets all wet,” he said, fist continuing to pump slowly.

“May I…?”

You weren’t sure how to ask exactly, but your curiosity had cooled some of your fight. You wanted to touch him the way he was touching himself, see what it felt like. You swallowed thickly, salivating with the image of putting your tongue on him. Would it feel for him the way the Duke had made you feel? He held his hand out to yours and when you took it guided you to hold him.

It was velvety, hotter than you thought. Sticky. His low moan made your bones rattle. You could die to hear him do it again. You shifted forward to taste it and the noise you were rewarded with made you believe in his old Northern Gods.

“Fuck, pretty little tongue feels perfect. You’re perfect” he groaned.

For some reason those two words made you squirm far more than any filth that he could have come out with. He carded a hand through your hair and moved your head back from him, groaning.

“Turn around mo leannan.”

You didn’t follow the instruction immediately, confused and stubborn. But you didn’t resist when he just took your body and turned it as if you weighed nothing to him. You were laid on your side facing away from him and his body joined you, chest against your back. His arm landed heavy on your hip, hand coming around to finally touch you like you had wanted.

“Touch yourself the way I’m doing, I’m going tae move my fingers to put them inside. Need ye tae relax.”

You wanted, you wanted, you wanted. If he was going to give you what you wanted then you could do what he said without complaint, fingers bumping against his sweetly as you took over. He readjusted your legs, pushing his cock between your thighs making you moan at the heat of it. When he was able to rut slowly he finally dropped his fingers to your opening, pushing one inside.

It felt different to when you had done it. It felt so hot and tight and wet and you could feel your walls trying to milk his finger.

“So tight. So hot and tight and perfect. Fuck taking it so pretty aren’t ye mo leannan? This was made for a cock, that’s whit I meant by saying I wisnae going tae take your maidenhood. The first cock in ye should be yer husbands in this Kingdom. Fuuuck, bunch of bastards. If ye were from the Northern Isles wouldnae be a problem for me to be inside ye before ye married.”

Everything felt blindingly intense, but it felt like you were on a thin line between that and a fuzzy softness. Like if you just gave in to it, you could leave your thoughts to the wayside and just feel. You resisted, too busy buzzing with the singular thought that one finger was already making you feel desperately stretched and full. A cock inside you?

“I’d die if you put it inside me, s’too big. Feel so full already” you whined, grabbing one of the pillows to press your face into.

He was picking up the pace, the sound of his hard cock sliding between your thighs combined with the sound of his finger pumping in and out of you wet and only interrupted by both of your desperate noises.

“I know, so tight. We’ll help ye, me and the Prince and the Duke. Get ye ready and excited,” he said, his words spoken right into the flesh of your shoulder where he had buried his head.

He added another finger and you swore, not something very lady like but fuck you wanted, you wanted, you wanted. Your own fingers bumped against his again, dipping down to get more of that slick to make everything feel better. He kissed at your shoulder and you thought you could die from such a sweet little gesture.

“So good, taking it so good. Feels better already hm? Ye know that ye were made to take our cocks, can feel ye clenching thinking about it. Would ye like that? After Simon gets ye nice and full with a child let the rest of us have ye. Never going tae want for anything wee yin, we’ll take such good care of ye.”

He reminded you of Gaz, the words seemingly being spoken for himself more than you. The idea that he would find it pleased him thinking of you being taken care of was going to give you heart problems.

It was only after you came with a scream that he really showed you how much this was affecting him. He fucked your thighs with a fury, leaving your breathless. You had taken your fingers away, choking a sob when he pulled his out and then just crying out incoherently when instead of removing them entirely he went back to your clit, the overstimulation dragging pleasure out of pain.

“J-Johnny I can’t!”

“Ye fucking can! Cum for me again my lady” he growled.

Turned out you could and the way you howled had him cumming as well. You felt ropes of sticky fluid make a mess of your thighs and you were too boneless and dazed to question it. That was a lesson for another time, on the balance of things you reckoned school was out for the day.

#cod #cod au #fanfic #mhairiwrites #tf 141 x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #so the West coast of Scotland is fully flooded today I will therefore just have to sit inside all day and read fanfiction oh no #going to call that divine intervention

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orcinus-ocean · 1 year ago

Photo

Icelandic whales and ecotype

I’ve seen some claims going around that the Icelandic whales displayed in zoos and aquariums for the past several decades are actually two different ecotypes, with some being “North Atlantic type 1″ and a few others being “North Atlantic type 2″.

I think this is completely wrong, and will show you why.

Above are an assortment of ecotype infographics.

As you can see, “type 1″ are the typical whale you’ll find off Iceland and Norway. They eat mainly herring and other small fish (though some individuals have been observed taking seals), and males typically range from 6.2-6.6 meters, females, around 5.5 meters.

They have clear saddlepatches, and tend to have eyepatches like this:

As the closeup of the map image (last image in the collection above) shows, “type 1″ orcas are also in turn split into type A and B. Type “1A”, if you will, follow exactly the range of where Icelandic whales were caught, and along the Norwegian coast (this eyepatch collage is of both Icelandic and Norwegian whales).

As all the other ecotype infographics show, “type 1″ live off Iceland, Norway, with a couple pointing out that they may range as far south as Scotland and Ireland.

“Type 2″ on the other hand, is huge, one of the largest killer whales anywhere on Earth (after Antarctic type A). Males are 7.5-8.5 meters long, females 6.5-7 meters. They have distinctive downwards sloping eyepatches (like sad eyebrows, seen above), faint saddlepatches, are are very rarely seen, range around Britain, Ireland, the Faroes, and occasionally as far as Svalbard - not Iceland or Norway. They are mammal-eaters, specializing in minke whales as prey. Today, only a few of them remain.

The claim is then, that some of our Icelanders in human care are secretly, actually, type 2.

Let’s look at them. I have gathered all the whales caught in Iceland into a large collage, here split for ease of viewing. The only named whales I couldn’t get good enough images of were Canuck 2, Magnus and Benkei 2.

If the whale is still alive or died as an adult, I will provide measurements, if known.

I originally wrote descriptions for all the following whales, but it got tiring, repetitive, and too lengthy.

Kim, Gudrun, Kenau, Kandu 5, Hoi Wai, Kona 2, Winnie, Betty, Kahana, and Kasatka.

All of very typical “type 1″ looks.

Kim

Gudrun has no measurements available, but as can be seen when she lived at SeaWorld as a full-grown female, she was not large.

Kenau was caught with Gudrun. She was 5.5 meters long when she died at age 16.

Kandu 5. Interestingly, Orkid is the only whale in human care who has anything like the type 2 eyepatch, but she’s the daughter of Kandu who does not, and a Northern resident (Canadian) father who also did not. Kandu measured under 5.4 meters when she died.

Hoi Wai

Kona 2 was likely caught with Kandu 5, had enormous, distinct eyepatches, and she was 5.5 meters long at the time of death.

Winnie was caught with Hoi Wai as said, had a typical Icelandic eyepatch, and the same size and shape as other Icelandic females she lived with.

Betty was caught along with Katina, so they were likely pod mates.

Kahana was caught with Kasatka. She was particularly petite, measuring barely 5.1 meters when she died aged 15.

Kasatka was a mere 5.2 meters long, and looks nothing like a type 2 whale.

Shawn

Kotar was 17-18 years old when he died, and measured 6.4 meters at the time of his death.

Katina is a typical, squat and stocky Icelandic whale with large eyepatches. She is just barely 5.5 meters long.

Dzul-ha

Caren was just 10-11 years old when she died, and measured 5 meters long.

Kiska was a larger female at 6 meters. Large for a type 1, but nowhere near the 6.5-7 meter type 2 females.

Keiko was an average-sized type 1 male at about 6.4 meters.

King

Ulises is another average-sized type 1 male, at 6.4 meters.

Bjossa is another I can find no measurements of, but she was much smaller than Corky, who is 6.1 meters (a Northern resident). She looks typical of an Icelandic whale if a bit long. Looking at the top middle whale of my eyepatch collage, that whale looks just like Bjossa.

Finna was caught along with Ulises, Bjossa and Vigga, his pod mates.

Vigga was another stocky and short female with large eyepatches, notably smaller than her 6 meter Northern resident companion.

Nemo

Neptune

Ruka

Noni/Nootka was stocky and large female, at 6 meters, but with a bright saddle and eyepatches so commonly seen among Icelandic and Norwegian herring-eaters.

Freya was the only adult I could find who had a truly faint saddle patch (note that juveniles of all ecotypes tend to have faint saddles). She was also very long and slender compared to the typical, more stocky Icelandic female. She was however caught along with Kim 2 and Haida 2, and measured 6 meters in her late 20s. Her eyepatch is not type 2.

Haida 2 was, unlike her likely pod mate Freya, very typical in appearance for a type 1. She measured 5.2 meters at the age of 13.

Kim 2 was reportedly a large male, at 6.9 meters, just under Tilikum in size.

Nootka 4 (strange designation since she was caught one year after “Nootka 5″) was the same size as Haida.

Tilikum was the largest Icelandic killer whale in human care, reportedly at just under 7 meters, though I have also seen 6.7 meters (in 2016, shortly before his death). Even if he was 6.9 meters, that is indeed large for a type 1, but absolutely minute for a type 2, and he looks nothing like them.

Nandu

Samoa was 5.15 meters long when she died, with a clear type 1 eyepatch and saddle patch.

Junior

Bingo had interesting triangular eyepatches and a black line in his saddle, and measured 6.5 meters in his early 30s.

Patty

Kandu 7

Prince

Maggie

Oscar was an unusually small male, measuring only 5.8 meters at the age of 26.