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bloo-the-dragon · 3 months ago

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Run Boy Run

A bit of an experimental one shot focusing on Bloodmoon (sams) and FC set when Bloodmoon was under Foxy and Monty's command many months ago, which is actually when i first drafted this lol. Woke up in a cold sweat and wrote most of it before forgetting about it until today.

So basically it's a what if situation where Stitchwraith shows up and Bloodmoon fulfils his command to protect FC. It's really not a redemption thing, more a what if they obeyed their command kinda deal. About 2.7k words!

(Also on AO3!)

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Bloodmoon was guarding FC at the daycare. They did not want to be here. They would rather be anywhere else than stuck in this accursed place. Perhaps it would not be so bad if there was human children running around, but it was well after hours and it was just them and the little fox brat here. And he was under very strict orders not to harm the child lest they find theirselves swifted wiped from existence.

So here they sat, grumbling and clawing at the playmats as they were co-erced begrudginly into playing a game of castles by FC who wanted them to be the monster in the loch that surrounded his mighty castle made from those stupid barrels.

Admittedly the sight of the spherical objects made the twins a little uneasy, memories in the back of their shared mind of being faced with one held by a certain yellow animatronic, a flash of light and then nothing. But the barrels were supposedly safe now and no longer a danger. They remained skeptical of this, and so chose not to touch them leaving the fox child to stack them as he wished while they lay sprawled out on the ground, tearing fresh holes into the gross blue mats.

They wondered how much longer of this hell they would have to endure. One half was consistently egging the other to make a break for the doors, they could so easily clamber up the woodwork and squeeze between the gap toward their freedom. Multiple times the more logical half had to remind their erratic twin of the bomb planted so neatly into their head. And more so again as FC bonked them with a barrel to get their attention. They did snap their jaws in warning though, which ceased FC's actions and they snickered as the little fox suddenly startled and fell backwards.

However they quickly realised it was not them who caused FC to startle so. Hearing the sounds of uneven footsteps, they snapped their head around to see the Stitchwraith making it's way toward them.

Immedietely Bloodmoon was on their feet, teeth bared and claws out ready to attack. But experience had taught them to not immedietely jump and to be wary of the abomination as they knew it had many foul tricks up the cloak it wore. They made the mistake of jumping into action against it once, they would not do so again.

'FC' The Stitchwraith called out, drawing out the C' in a sickeningly soft voice. 'Come here, come to me.'

FC did not respond. He appeared to be too frightened, crouching behind the barrel that he had been hitting Bloodmoon with not a minute ago. Stitchwraith took another step forward and Bloodmoon growled, snapping their jaws in warning. The command to protect FC was starting to kick in in full and despite how much it sickened them, in the end they hated Stitchwraith more than they did the fox and his brat.

Stitchwraith seemed to notice their presence, and it called out to them next. 'Bloodmoon. Bring him to me. Now.'

Bloodmoon twitched at the command. They almost complied, the accursed instincts to follow orders activating. Plus it being Stitchwraith, someone they had unknowingly followed like an obediant dog for months.

But Stitchwraith was no longer their ward, their master. They had none.

Was Foxy their master? Coding said yes but Bloodmoon aggressively disagreed.

The old fox had treated them well though, better than the others. While they were forbiddan to maim people they were still provided sustenance as meager as it was. Animal blood couldn't compare to human blood afterall. It was less sustaining. But it was something.

FC whimpered, as Stitchwraith called for him again. This time Bloodmoon recognised the voice, the so called 'nice' one. They knew it to be a lie. They knew that one was more a snake than the other.

The twins considered briefly their next course of action. One side, the more angry one wanted to follow as they had been told and to lunge, kill the Stitchwraith as was their command.

Attack ATTACK it is weak, we shall maim and tear and feast!

No.. Something is wrong brother. Surely you feel it too. Weakened as it is, i sense something is amiss.

Their spiral eyes narrowed, and they growled menacingly as they lowered themself to the ground ready to pounce or bolt. Yet there was something... off about the Stitchwraith. When they first spied it they immedietely noticed it appeared to be more damaged than it had been the last time they'd seen it. The steps it took were uneven and it walked with a heavy limp. They could hear a sickening grinding noise with every movement almost as if it were forcing itself to move. It did not sound comfortable. It sounded like it was in a great deal of pain.

And that meant it was weak. Less of a threat, easier to take down.

But still they'd held their ground. Past experience aside, the closer it got the more the twins sensed that it seemed to be almost more.. powerful than before. Despite how badly damaged it was, the red core that sat in the center of the mangled robots chest thrummed with such potent energy that even they could sense it.

The abomination's patience appeared to wane, as with a sudden burst of energy it took a couple of quick steps forward, claws outstretched toward FC.

'Come here. Now.'

Bloodmoon saw red. Quite literally.

The red core in Stitchwraith's chest began to glow and Bloodmoon reacted on pure instinct. Twisting their head, they clamped their teeth onto the scruff behind the tiny fox's neck elicting a startled yelp from the child before turning and bolting out of the daycare on all fours.

There was an angry shout, something that sounded like a 'No!' But Bloodmoon didn't dare look back, didn't slow down. They scrambled up the wooden doors and squeezed through the gap at the top just as one half had been pre-planning prior to this. As they lept down, the wooden doors cracked and splintered before bursting open with a looud bang behind them.

But the twins and the little fox within their jaws were already up the stairs. They ran faster, running in an erratic zigzag as bolts of red electrical like energy struck the ground on either side of them.

They dashed out of the daycare, their claws scrabbling to find grip on the marble floor that led toward the main entrance. They began making big leaps and bounds, almost like a bunny and at one point they even ran briefly across the wall before finally making it to the double doors leading to the pizzaria lobby.

They burst through the doors, nearly snapping one off its hinges in the process. They stop briefly to finally check behind them, to see how close the Stitchwraith was. They couldn't see it, they had managed to outrun it. But they knew better than to hang around in such an open space.

They looked around, the little fox swinging in their jaws as the red and blue animatronic searched frantically for a place to hide. One side pointed their shared view to a specific hole in the ceiling, meant for the elevator that sit broken by the escalators. It could work to hide them if they could get up there.

Wasting no time, they darted toward the giant glowing pillars that connected the elevator to the ceiling. They lunged and grabbed onto one, grunting and hissing as the bright light hurt their sensitive eyes. But they scrambled their way up it regardless and into the gaping space above.

They were able to only get up so far though as there was a metal barrier of some kind blocking the rest of the way. A safety measure should anything fall in from above they would assume. But they were up far enough that they should not be so easily spotted.

Bloodmoon adjusted theirself, finding purchase with their claws and supports for their feet to keep theirselves in place. FC remained scruffed in their teeth, and the little fox whimpered as he hung almost precariously, his eyes closed tight as to not look at the high distance between them and the ground below.

The red and blue jester hissed a low and dangerous 'quiet' just as the Stitchwraith appeared, slamming the daycare entryway doors aside and completely snapping the already broken one off the hinges.

Both Bloodmoon and FC went very still. They couldn't directly see Stitchwraith at this angle but they could hear as well as sense it. The eerie energy that radiated from it was all too hard to miss, as were the uneven footsteps and sounds of broken machinery as the mangled animatronic prowled below them.

'FC? Where are you buddy? If you hear me just call out! Did Bloodmoon hurt you? I'll come rescue you, don't worry'

FC didn't make a sound but Bloodmoon could feel him tremble, how the tiny fox curled in on himself even more tucking his legs and tail close. The smell of fear was strong and it took all of their effort to not give into the sudden urge to bite down fully.

More accursed mechanical noises, more soft calls carrying false words of encouragement and poisonous promise. At one point Bloodmoon spied the Stitchwraith as it moved below them. Their spiral eyes fixed on it immedietely following its every move with intense focus, their body completely still and tense and ready to lunge the moment the mangled robot turned its hooded head up toward the two.

But it did not. Instead the calls fell quiet and Bloodmoon could barely hear the angry hushed whispers to itself. With a sudden angry snarl accompanied by crackles of more red energy that had FC flinching harshly, Stitchwraith turned and stormed off in another direction once again leaving their line of sight.

However Bloodmoon dared not move, remaining completely still. Both sides were silent even in their mind, both being completely hyper focused with one side listening and looking out for the looming danger below them and the other holding back the bloodlust being triggered by FC's terror.

Even as the sounds grew softer and eventually disappeared entirely they did not dare to move. For all they knew, the Stitchwraith could still be nearby, waiting for them to come out of hiding so it could ambush them. They wern't taking the chance.

They knew not how long they stayed there. Could have been an hour, could have been ten minutes. Either way, FC started to whine softly the events taking its toll on the little fox. Bloodmoon growled a warning and that shut him up quick. But not a minute after, there were sounds of footsteps approaching which had both tensing up once again before a familiar voice followed.

'FC? FC Where are you? Bloodmoon? Either of you are you here?'

It was Foxy. FC perked up instantly, and with only slight hesitation called out to his dad.

'I'm here father!'

With that, Bloodmoon finally moved from his position, grabbing onto the accursed glowing pillar and sliding down it to where Foxy was waiting for them.

Bloodmoon released FC from their jaws, and the little fox instantly bolted away and over to Foxy. Bloodmoon twitched in a barely restrained effort to not automatically chase after him, but otherwise remained where they were, flexing their claws as they fought to calm their bloodlust as well as their own nerves.

Meanwhile Foxy checked over his son frantically. 'Are you alright? Did he hurt you?' Foxy immedietely shot Bloodmoon a glare as he noticed the faint bite mark on the back of his sons neck. While the faux fuzz skin was not torn, there were clear puncture marks.

Bloodmoon notices his glare and they let out a scoff, turning their head away. But FC is shaking his head drawing the older fox animatronic's attention back.

'No no! I am not hurt they... Bloodmoon saved me from the Stitchwraith!'.

'I.. see' Foxy couldn't help the slight skeptisim from entering his voice but. 'Well.. Good. Glad to see you're capable of following orders then' Foxy directed his voice over to Bloodmoon. The red and blue jester shot him a snarl but they did not answer, instead plopping theirselves onto the floor and clawing halfheartedly at the carpet.

Foxy sighed, and turned back to his son. Aside from the bite mark he looked to be ok just a little shaken. 'I saw the Stitchwraith on the cams. Came here fast as i could. I'm sorry you had to deal with that but you're safe now.'

FC fiddled with his hands. 'Can we go home now?'

'Yeah kid, we can go home. Won't be back here for a while. I already gave Monty a call on my way down here so. He should be here soon, so just hang tight for a bit alright?'

'What if the Stitchwraith comes back?'

'Then we'll deal with it should happen. But i think it's gone for now and we won't be here for much longer.'

'Ok father..'

Foxy ruffled his sons head. 'Atta' boy.' He then stood and turned his attention to Bloodmoon, considering his options. They had done exactly as they were commanded which was... surprising honestly. Foxy had assumed they would have been torn apart by the Stitchwraith. Afterall their main purpose was to hold them off long enough for him or Monty to get down there. They had surprised him today.

Foxy hummed. He wondered.

While Foxy and FC were talking, Bloodmoon had tuned them out. They were starting to feel weary. The effort it took of holding back their bloodlust combined with the sudden burst of energy that had them bolting across the plex was starting to take its toll. The twins were tired and hungry and their arms and legs beginning to feel a little sore. Conflicting emotions swam within them from both sides. The satisfaction in their code of fulfilling their order to protect FC conflicting with the command denied to bring FC to the Stitchwraith as they were told to.

They hated this. Hated being stuck like this. Hated that they were bound to the commands of two masters. They knashed their teeth, wanting nothing more than to feast on soft flesh and warm blood before curling up and going to sleep.

They flinched as their name was called, flinching back as they realised the old fox was suddenly standing next to them. One half of them automatically hissed and swiped but the other half held them back as they processed a question that had been asked to them.

'What?'

Foxy had his hands held up in a non threatening manner. A difficult feat to accomplish when one had was literally a hook. 'Negative O. That's your favourite right?'

Bloodmoon tilted their head in a confused manner, but they warily nod. 'Alright, ok good got it' Foxy replies, 'listen you did good today so tell you what. I'll get you one blood bag as a treat. Maybe two if you behave between now and when we get home. Sound good?'

The twins do not answer, squinting at the old fox in suspicion. Was this a trick? Some kind of ploy? For what reason would he do this? They did not believe for a moment this 'good behaviour' shit he was spewing. They had simply done what they were commanded to do, nothing more.

However, the prospect of having actual human blood, and their favourite type no less was too good to pass up. They inwardly agreed with one another they could play the little nice nice game for a little longer too if it meant getting an extra bag so they nodded their head again.

'Alright good' Foxy nods mostly to himself before turning to FC. He had noted Bloodmoon looked tired and FC was looking increasingly like he could use a nap, the stress finally starting to take it's toll on the little fox. Bloodmoon too, as they stopped clawing up the carpet and resorted to curling up on the floor. Nasty place to lie down Foxy mused but he wasn't gonna tell them otherwise.

Eventually Monty did arrive and set up the portal back home. Foxy sent Bloodmoon and FC through first, and quickly passed on his request to Monty to grab the two negative o blood bags for Bloodmoon to which the gator agreed. As he passed through the portal himself Foxy wondered if perhaps he could use this as a consistant reward for good behaviours in future to keep Bloodmoon in line.

#bloo writes stuff #fnaf #fnaf security breach #sun and moon show #sams bloodmoon #sams fc #sams foxy #sams stitchwraith #if you recognise the title you win a cookie!

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greatideas-badwriter · 8 months ago

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Sacrificed To The Banished Prince Ch. 23

The couple traveled for nearly two full days via carriage before it finally came to a stop. Sakura groaned softly once her feet were on solid ground, stretching her arms above her head, only to freeze when Sasuke walked around her. They were in front of a high-end-looking stable. In fact, a middle-aged man in a suit was leading a gorgeous stallion toward them. It was the biggest animal the girl had ever seen in person.

The pinkette’s arms dropped to her sides as Sasuke approached to shake the stranger’s hand, speaking to him quietly for a moment. ‘Don’t tell me…. Are we traveling even further?’

Neither had spoken about the destination of their honeymoon, but the pinkette inferred from her husband’s silence on the matter that he intended for it to remain a surprise. Either that, or he was misunderstanding her lack of questions as the absence of curiosity. She turned when the carriage suddenly pulled away behind her, watching as it traveled further up the road.

“Ready?”

Sakura faced forward again. The man who delivered the horse was almost back to the massive stable already, and Sasuke was standing before her. She swallowed a groan and nodded. A mild blush met her face when he lifted her as gently as possible onto the horse’s back, climbing on behind her and taking the reins without delay.

A tiny yelp passed her lips when the horse began moving, her hands darting to the beast’s mane only to freeze before touching its long, dark hair. ‘Will it respond poorly if I touch it? I’ve never been on a horse’s back before!’

One of the large hands holding the reins moved to her midsection. The woman looked down in surprise as Sasuke easily adjusted her position so her back was pressed against him. His voice was barely audible amidst the stallion’s galloping steps, but it still sent a shiver down her spine, “Relax your hips.”

Sakura was so taken off guard by the situation that she found herself following his advice. Her entire being burnt with bashful heat.

He grunted affirmatively, “It’ll come more naturally with time; just keep doing it like that.”

She finally found her voice while attempting and failing to ignore the firm feeling of his body against her back, “This feels…indecent….” Surely the man was uncomfortable with having to be so close for an extended period. She kept having to fix her skirt so nothing above her knees would show, given that she wasn’t sitting side-saddle, too. She felt guilty that he had to cater to her lack of knowledge like this.

It was as if her words stung the man because his hand swiftly returned to the reins. A tense moment passed before he replied curtly, “Please bear with it until we arrive.”

For some reason, Sakura felt sick then, as though she’d done something wrong. She wanted to apologize but couldn’t gather the courage. So, she gritted her teeth and did her best not to be a hindrance to the now-silent man guiding the horse.

Time passed. It had been a few hours when the pinkette fell asleep, the previously jarring motion of the steed instead lulling her.

Her eyes shot open in realization the moment she woke and took notice of the fact that they were no longer outside, much less on horseback. It was dark. The sheets were silky and cool beneath her already-cold skin.

Unbelievable terror tore a strangled cry from her lips when a warm hand suddenly brushed her hair from her face. On instinct, her hands shot out to fight who her body was screaming would harm her. In the unfamiliar, dark room, the half-awake woman could only imagine the hand belonged to the person she feared most: Hihara.

“Sakura, it’s me! It’s Akuma, stop!”

A ragged breath left her, tears running down the sides of her face to drip onto her hair and the pillows. Emerald-colored eyes blinked rapidly, searching the dark for the familiar face that voice belonged to, “...A-Akuma…?” This time, when she felt a hand brush against her cheek, she frowned and tried to cease the tears.

The demon’s voice was soft as he obviously tried not to further upset her. He brushed his thumb across her cheekbone soothingly, “Shh, now. Do you not recognize this warmth?”

Sakura closed her eyes, focusing on his words. With a shaking hand, she grasped his wrist and leaned cautiously into his touch, ‘Hihara is not here.’

Akuma sensed her understanding of the situation and sighed, finally coming close enough that she could see Sasuke’s handsome features in the dark, if only just barely. His hand slid down to her neck before slipping back into her hair.

His too-sharp canines almost glistened as he spoke, “Who would dare pluck a flower belonging to a demon lest they come prepared to sacrifice their soul?”

Those words would scare Sakura if they’d come from anyone else. Instead, they put an end to her tears. She turned onto her side, as did Akuma. They stared at one another in silence for a moment before he suddenly breathed out, “You were a bride most captivating.”

She bravely bent her arm between them to hold his hand, averting her gaze to his long fingers.

He seemed to pick up on the fact that she wasn’t feeling talkative and sighed, his lips turning into an understanding grin, “Come closer. Your skin is chilled, Dove. The prince has established he doesn’t dislike being near his betrothed.”

Sakura felt like a child being teased by a doting parent as she was guided nearer to Akuma, burying her face in his shirt with a pout.

He chuckled, “Rest. I fear enduring the idiot prince’s lack of romantic prowess will prove tiring indeed.”

As she’d grown accustomed back at the manor, Sakura was alone when she woke in the morning. The weight of the covers was more than during the night, so she deduced that Sasuke had doubled them upon waking so she wouldn’t stir in the absence of his body heat.

When she sat up, she realized he wasn’t even in the room. Now that the sun was in the sky, she was free to study her surroundings. The bed they’d slept on was the biggest she’d seen. Judging by the wooden floors and walls, she suspected they were in some sort of cabin. Other than the bed, a dresser was the only other furniture in the room. There were two doors, one leading to the bathing room and one leading to the rest of the building. Furs and antlers decorated the walls.

While climbing out of bed, Sakura wandered into the bathroom to freshen up, ‘I wonder if this is a hunter’s cabin. I’ve never seen one before, but they’ve been described in many of the books Hana and I would read.’ She was also curious as to why Sasuke chose such a destination for their honeymoon.

When the woman was finished freshening up, she was surprised to see Sasuke was also not in the den or the kitchen, both of which were similar to the bedroom in aesthetic. Upon peeking outside, her jaw nearly dropped when she laid eyes on the prince. Not only was he chopping firewood with an axe, but he was doing so without a shirt despite the deep snow blanketing the ground.

Without thinking twice, Sakura rushed to throw open the front door and hurried outside, “Sasuke, you’ll catch a cold!”

Dark eyes turned onto her, and that was when she recalled their last conversation because he quickly looked away. His lips were in a stoic frown as he said, “I’ve not had a cold in my entire life.”

Sakura’s toes were freezing in the snow, but she couldn’t focus on that as she went to his side, eyeing the axe wearily, “Please, come inside.”

He paused before seeming to give in. He let the axe fall into the snow, bundled up the wood he’d chopped, and carried it into the cabin with his petite wife in tow. She fretted in the kitchen as he tended to the fireplace, “I’ll make some tea to warm us up.” Inwardly, she wanted to mention that they didn’t even need to use the fireplace. This place, much like a majority of livable buildings in the kingdom, was heated using both the crude electrical units that’d so far been invented and magic. The fireplace was more for show than anything.

Sakura’s mood worsened as she prepared the hot drink, stealing glances at her new husband, ‘He’s so uncomfortable that he’d rather be out in the cold than inside with me. What I said yesterday upset him greatly.’ She still hadn’t figured out why that was, but her gut told her that her words were the cause of their current tension.

Her instincts took over when she served the tea. Before she could even take a sip of her own, she noticed the goosebumps on Sasuke’s pale skin. Her body moved independently. Without speaking, the woman fetched one of the covers from the bed and draped it over the man’s broad shoulders. Sasuke froze, his dark eyes locking onto hers as she pulled the blanket further over him.

‘What am I doing? He doesn’t want me close like this!’ The duo didn’t move or even blink for a moment, but then Sakura snapped out of it and looked down at the teacup he was holding, “My apologies.”

When the prince didn’t respond, the remainder of her courage dissipated and she did her best to keep her composure as she sat on the sofa. Her gaze glazed over on her own steaming cup on tea, but she didn’t touch it as it sat on the coffee table. ‘Things were going well until I said those words. Will this ruin our agreement? Has he lost the ability to care for me now that I’ve offended him?’

The sound of the man in question setting down his teacup broke Sakura’s focus.

He didn’t look her way as he quietly spoke, “I’m concerned with frightening you again. Please don’t interpret my behavior as anything else.” The couple sat there, side by side but not touching on the sofa.

“Frighten me?” Sakura wasn’t brave enough to face him yet, so they both stared at the table.

“Your hesitance toward physicality is not something for which I can blame you.”

That was when Sakura realized what’d happened yesterday. Her face warmed as her voice wavered, “Y-You thought that I meant….”

Finally, the two angled their bodies toward one another, eyes locking cautiously. Sasuke needed to say nothing to confirm her insinuated question. His mutedly confused expression was enough. Sakura’s eyes watered up as she smiled bashfully, reaching to hold his hand between hers, “I only meant that I felt like a burden to you and nothing more. You’ve done nothing untoward, especially now that we’re married.”

The prince searched her face, “Our being wed shouldn’t matter in such a situation.”

And the pinkette was once again baffled. She tilted her head before shaking it, “The law states that a husband has rights to his wife’s body as her legal provider and protector. Even if you had frightened me, it’d be selfish of me to deny you.”

The hand in hers disappeared. Sasuke’s eyes were darker as they narrowed. She winced at the edge of his tone. “As someone who understands well what it’s like to not have a choice when it comes to one’s own body, surely you don’t expect me to agree with such a sentiment.”

Sakura’s face paled in realization, and she lifted her hands to wave them dismissively, “It wasn’t my intention to insult you, Sasuke! That’s not what I meant.”

His glare remained for a moment before he sighed, the tension in his brow softening. He picked his teacup back up and spoke more calmly while looking into it, “No, I know that. I’m simply inexperienced when it comes to romance and the duties of a husband. The demon wasn’t wrong to warn you of my ignorance.”

A tiny giggle escaped Sakura before she could stop it, and she brought a hand to her lips in surprise, blushing when Sasuke looked at her again. She grinned sheepishly, feeling more relaxed now that he’d attempted to properly explain his state of mind, “Is this what’s been bothering you?”

If she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn the tiniest hint of color met the prince’s cheeks. His frown deepened, and his jaw flexed, but he said nothing.

Affection warmed Sakura’s chest as she, too, picked up her teacup, “There is no need for you to feel ashamed. I, also, am nervous.” She could feel his eyes on her but simply took a sip of the now-only-warm tea before grinning again, “It’s only us here, so there’s no need for facades or pride, don’t you agree?”

This time, Sasuke took his time responding. Eventually, he did. It was clear by his new tone of voice that the conversation had eased his mind, if only a little, “It would be unfair of me to ask even more of you than I already am.”

“I’m asking something far more selfish of you, seeing as you’ll have to settle matters once your curse and I are gone. Please rely on me as much as needed while I’m still capable of offering support.”

Just like that, the ease of communication faded.

A tiny squeak left her mouth when Sasuke grabbed her wrist and made her face him. By his firm grip, she expected him to be angry, but sadness was all that bled from his eyes. They said nothing. Sakura searched his face in awe because the prince was doing nothing to hide his emotions.

Bittersweet happiness made her stomach flip as she realized what he was trying to tell her. ‘He’s afraid. I’m sure after a decade of living like he has, he never expected the approaching day of my death and his cure to arrive.’

Some kind of instinct, maybe maternal or maybe something else, washed over Sakura. She whispered because that was all she could manage in her emotional state, “Whenever you’re ready, whether it’s today, tomorrow, a week, or even a month frome now. I only ask that you don’t blame yourself for my fate. Remember that I chose to be your sacrifice of my own free will.”

The grip around her wrist loosened. Sasuke’s eyes widened slightly. Sakura opened her mouth to give a second attempt at comfort the obviously upset man, only to be cut off when his lips met hers. Her green eyes widened, but the prince closed his, so she followed his lead soon after. Warmth met her chest and face as she responded to his kiss. It was sweet and much too short.

Sakura’s mouth clamped shut when the Uchiha man pulled away just as quickly as he’d leaned in, his lips slightly parted as though words were on the tip of his tongue that just wouldn’t come out. It was completely silent for a very long moment as the couple stared at one another in mutual surprise at his actions, but then Sasuke got up and excused himself into the bedroom and then to the bathing room, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Sakura watched him retreat in a state of complete bewilderment. It didn’t seem that he disliked the kiss, which left her unsure of why he said those exact words. She sat her teacup back on the table before bringing her fingers to delicately touch her lips. She swallowed hard. More than her husband’s uncharacteristic actions, her own emotions took her off guard.

‘Why did he pull away…?’

#naruto #naruto fanfiction #narutofanfic #narutofanfiction #sakura #sakura uchiha #haruno sakura #naruto shippuden #sakura haruno #naruto shippuden fanfiction #sasusaku fic #sasusaku fanfiction #uchiha sasuke #sasusaku #sasuke

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 2 months ago

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FFXIV Write: Taken

In which Estinien learns Agi, Esme, Hami, and Marc were taken by mercenaries...and decides to do something about it. SFW.

This is set around 14-15 years post-7.0. In Agi's canon, he was severely injured some time ago and walks with a cane. It's Estinien's POV first, then Esme's, and then Agi's.

When the linkpearl rang, Estinien had assumed it was Agnes or one of the three children with her.

He did not expect to hear Esme.

“Bapa, some nasty people hurt Mummy. She’s unconscious. Me, Hami, and Marc are okay, but they said they’re going to take us somewhere…Bapa, I’m so scared…We’re north of Palaka’s Stand…”

No.

He swore his heart was pounding out of his chest.

My love. My children.

No.

“Es, listen to me. Be calm, look after Mummy and your brothers.” he said, willing his voice to remain even. “I’ll be there soon.”

“But Bapa—”

Estinien ended the call, grabbed his cane, and immediately sent a call to Megadhuta.

Vrtra will be on the lookout for them.

The Radiant Host will be mobilized.

After he asked their neighbor (a kind elderly au ra lady) to watch the other children, he walked into the back garden of their home in Radz-at-Han and squeezed his eyes shut.

When he opened them, they were red.

Come, Nidhogg…

***

Esme Varlineau channeled aether into her unconscious mother as Marcelin held Agnes’s hand. The four had been out to assist in some very large animal beast control but were overwhelmed by a band of mercenaries who hit the Warrior of Light on the back of the head, rendering her unconscious. I stopped the bleeding. They were being held in what Hami is calling a prison wagon…like the ones in Ishgard…

Mummy, please wake up. Please. Please. Please. Please.

Hamignant watched with worry. “Es, don’t use all your mana. Save it.”

She shook her head quickly. “No. No. It’s Mummy. She’d do the same for us—”

“She’d be strategic about this. Save your mana in case—”

CRACK!

The three teenagers stopped moving, eyes widening as they heard something like bones breaking from where the mercenaries were holding them in the jungle. On instinct, like the knight he was training to be, Hamignant rose to his feet and held his hands in a defensive position while his twin summoned his carbuncle. Esme then rose and said a silent prayer.

I don’t want to die.

I don’t want Mummy to die.

I don’t want Hami and Marc to die.

Please, Sisters hear me…

I don’t even have my staff…they took it…like they took Hami’s sword and shield…Didn’t think to take Marc’s grimoire but he’s not even an arcanist anymore…

Mummy, wake up…

More crashes and bangs were heard.

“I-It’s getting closer…” Marcelin whispered, brown eyes staring ahead.

Please, Sisters…help Mummy…help us…

Within seconds, the two guards outside their wagon were killed instantly, their necks making a horrific snapping sound!!! SISTERS SAVE US!!!! PLEASE!!!!

The door was ripped off its hinges, and Esme screamed.

Hamignant’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“B-Bapa? Is that you?”

What the fuck?!

As the three teenagers exited the wagon (there’s no way we can lift Mummy), they took in the sight of their father.

Estinien Varlineau had black scales littered across his upper body, torso, and legs, his normally pale blue eyes red, black horns from his head, and red aether swirled around him. Fangs shined in the afternoon sun. The wings on his back flapped to keep him in the air only slightly.

Enough so he doesn’t have to walk, because he doesn’t have his cane.

BECAUSE WHY NOT WHEN YOU HAVE WINGS, RIGHT?!?!?!

“B-Bapa?” Esme whimpered, tears in her brown eyes. “Mummy…”

He smiled and laid a hand on her head. Just like he did when I was little. “It’s okay, Es. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you. Any of you.”

Oh Bapa, I should’ve known…of course you’d come after us, even though you really shouldn’t with your bad leg!!!

The boys reassured their father that they were alright as Estinien gathered his wife in his arms. “My poor Agi.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “They won’t hurt you or the children ever again, my angel. I made sure.”

Marcelin blinked. “Bapa, are they…dead?”

Estinien nodded. “Aye. Every last one.” That’s not surprising considering it’s Bapa. Holding Mummy like she’s nothing, he sighed. “Vrtra will be here any moment, and the Radiant Host soon after. When they take Mummy back to Radz-at-Han, go with her. I’ll need to speak with Vrtra.”

“I can—” Hamignant began but stopped when he saw his father shake his head.

“No, Hami. Go with them.” He said more forcefully, causing Hamignant to warily nod. “I know you have questions, and I promise I’ll answer them after this is taken care of. Alright?”

The three nodded.

None of us spoke again until Vrtra arrived. He told us not to worry…that Bapa isn’t in trouble…

“Focus on your mother, little ones, and on yourselves. Rest.”

And Bapa…

Sisters, thank you for sending Bapa to save us.

But what…is it Nidhogg’s influence I wonder?

AM I DRAGON!??!!?

***

Agnes Currai Varlineau groaned as she opened her eyes in an unfamiliar room.

Where…

THE CHILDREN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She gasped and tried to sit up but was stopped by her husband.

“Shhh, Agi. It’s okay. The children are safe. You’re safe. It’s alright. I’ve got you.” He laid a hand on her chest and had her lie back down. Gods, he looks so tired. My poor love.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve known there were more of them.” She explained as she reached for her glasses on the bedside table. “When I saw just how many there were, I told them to run.” Glasses now on and I can see him much better. Very, very tired my grumpy dragon is. “Then I…that’s all I remember.”

Estinien held one of her hands in both his. Warm. Calloused. Wonderful. “You got hit in the head. Knocked you out. Esme…” Tears formed in his eyes, and he smiled. “Esme used your linkpearl and alerted me. She stopped the bleeding and may have saved your life. I’ll let her explain, but she was brilliant. Hami was a good lad---he’s going to be an amazing knight someday. And Marc…our sweet Marc…” Oh gods, love. Don’t cry, or I will! Oh fuck it, I am anyways. “He was ready to summon Ifrit. Tis not his path anymore, but he was willing to…” He bit back a sob, squeezing her hand. “You should be so proud of them. We taught them well.”

“I am, love. I always am. However, how did this end? Did the Radiant Host—”

“No. Twas me.” He closed his eyes and inhaled. “After I let Vrtra know that you were taken, I asked Dina to watch the younger ones. I-I…” Estinien opened his eyes. Red. Oh. OH. OHHHHHH OKAY. “I changed into my draconic form and slaughtered the ones who hurt my mate and young.” With one slow blink, the red was gone. That was a bit scary but also kind of hot. “From what Vrtra and the Radiant Host told me, that band was responsible for multiple kidnappings in the area. They won’t be taking anyone else.”

Well…shit.

She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re not in any trouble, Estinien?”

“No. However, Vrtra told me if I lose control like that ever again, then I certainly will be. I swore on the lives of our children that it won’t happen again.” He took a few deep breaths before continuing. “I’m not sorry those bastards are dead. I’m only sorry that the children had to witness it.” He then chuckled, one hand letting go of her to run through his white locks. Still brush and style it for him every day. “Speaking of the children, we…erm, we should tell them about…how close my relationship to Nidhogg is.”

Oh NO.

Her eyes widened. “Please tell me you weren’t naked.”

“AGI!?!?! That’s your first reaction to ‘we need to tell the children the specifics on my draconic possession including the scales and wings and fangs’ and you say that?!” Estinien laughed and leaned down to kiss her. Soft and sweet but too brief. “No, I wasn’t bloody naked, woman. My pants were ripped, but I was covered. Fury preserve…” He began to straighten, but she caressed his cheek and smiled.

“I love you, but Vrtra is right. It cannot happen again.” Even if Estinien was right to…intervene, for lack of a better word because my head is still sore at the moment, he should’ve stayed at home and had Vrtra and the Radiant Host handle it. He can’t be out in the field anymore, for fuck’s sake. “Trust in Vrtra. He promised he’d look out for us with you—”

The elezen huffed in frustration. “Aye, aye. I know.” He smiled ruefully at her and I fucking melted because he’s so cute right now. “Forgive me?”

“Always, and before anything else, there’s something I must say.” She cupped his cheek and grinned. “Thank you for saving us, love.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “You’re very welcome, Madame Varlineau.”

Despite the extremely lovely moment with my grumpy dragon, he does deserve a bit of teasing, I think. Just a little. As a treat.

“Oh love, how much are we going to tell them about Bapa’s ruts? From a purely biological perspective, of course.” Upon hearing him groan, she laughed. “Well, it’s alright. We have time to plan.”

I can already see it now. Estinien explaining the Nidhogg thing with Hami very interested, Esme trying not to embarrassed and failing miserably, and Marc wishing he were anywhere else.

Oh dear.

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mel-the-pirate-writeblr · 2 years ago

Text

Lost Control (M(T)PJ: Ditto Defect)

Winter Whumperland 2022 Day 12 // Whumpcember 2022 Day 12

Whumperland Prompt Masterlist

Day 12 Prompt: The Nutcracker: Forced to Perform | Animal Attack | Forced Transformation | Comfort: Favorite Holiday Movies.

Whumpcember Prompt Masterlist

Day 12 Prompt: Broken Bone

Word Count: ~750 words

This is a part of a personal Pokémon Fanfiction series, My (Twisted) Pokémon Journey, and is looking at a part of a story that I haven't gotten to or put out there yet, but I have MANY ideas for, called Ditto Defect. This specific story is set in Unova with Team Plasma as the antagonists, though I have a nice little OC antagonist so I don't have to struggle with too many canon characters.

My (Twisted) Pokémon Journey Masterlist

This short bit is specifically about the main POV character, Crystal, struggling with a transformation ability and it breaking down as she uses it, fighting one her her tormentor’s Pokémon. Enjoy!

🙞 🙟 🙝 🙜

Sebastian stalked into the observation lab early today. He had a Krookodile that walked beside him when they stood outside my containment chamber. "We'll be doing another observation test today. I do enjoy the data we can glean from your battles. N said you were a very accomplished trainer, after all, and our records show your early success in the Youth Indigo League. How much do you remember without your precious PokéDex? How many Pokémon, how many moves?"

I remained in my human form, determined to keep it for as long as I could. I couldn't risk being stuck in a Pokémon form, and I didn't trust that I would be able to use Transform successfully. My control over it was deteriorating rapidly, and it took an increasing amount of energy to even initiate Transform in the first place.

The Krookodile sauntered in. I could sense the excitement to battle from it. This time, there would be no guilt – this was Sebastian's own Pokémon, I knew that much. This wasn't stolen or abused, like the Liepard.

"I'll leave you to it, Krookodile."

The Krookodile smiled maliciously at me.

Without warning, he swiped at me, his claws glowing purple. Dragon Claw, I recognized. I only just got out of the way in time, but the follow-up Dragon Tail caught me off-guard, and it slammed hard into my side – knocking the air out of me, but I wasn't sure if that was all, or if my ribs— Can't think about that now, I thought, pushing the thought aside. Pain is an indicator. Nothing more. I hastily breathed a Flamethrower in the Krookodile's direction on instinct.

I thought of Ninetales, thanks to Hex, and their ability to curse – the legends I heard as I grew up. Will-O-Wisp, I thought, conjuring the cursed purple tongues of flame and sending them toward the Krookodile.

Belatedly, I remembered that the Krookdile was a ground-type. I need water!

The Krookodile struck before I could adapt. I had enough time to recognize the attack, and try and defend against it – Crunch, against my raised arm. Luxray used this often enough for me to know it well. I didn't have time, I couldn't do anything so fast – crunch, right on my arm.

The pain was similar to the pain of using Transform, but it wasn't resolving into anything. I heard myself scream in pain – the Krookodile's jaws must have broken my arm.

In the haze, my yell turned into a roar, and the rest of my body started to burn. Ninetales, I had the brief clarity to think. Mid-Transform, I used Iron Tail as I gained the nine tails, slamming each tail down sequentially onto the Krookodile. I landed hard, unable to use one of my front legs – even though Transform, it stayed broken. With my whole body hurting, I forced out a Hydro Pump directly at the stunned Krookodile. He finally fainted, to my relief.

I struggled to my feet, holding up my broken leg. I didn't want to Transform. I don't have enough energy to use it again, especially not with this leg. Can I heal it with my ability?

Sebastian approached the door, and I snarled at him, fire licking at my teeth. His sickeningly satisfied expression only fueled my fury.

"What a lovely performance," he mocked. "I think we're starting to make good progress. I did note that you tried halting your transformation. Everything will be faithfully recorded."

As futile as I knew it would be, I blasted the door with Flamethrower. I did get the satisfaction of Sebastian flinching back, though I did little or even no damage otherwise.

"Do you want to use my Krookodile for something else, or may I take him back?"

As if you need my permission. If you wanted him, you'd find a way to take him. I just continued baring my fangs.

"I'd like to take him to heal. You wouldn't keep a Pokémon in pain, for how they were raised?"

As if they aren't sentient in their own right!

"We can just sedate you. It's really no skin off my teeth."

I huffed out a small plume of fire, and went to lay in the farthest corner, where my bed was. I didn't lay on it, but faced away from the door. I heard it open, heard the Pokéball returning Krookodile, and heard the door lock again.

"You'll lose this battle, girl," Sebastion promised me. "You'll become what you were always mean to be: a weapon. You made that choice. It's not our fault you did – but it's our goal to make sure you're useful in the process of Team Plasma taking over Unova."

#mel-the-pirate post #snippet #Whumpcember2022 #day 12 #Winter Whumperland #broken bone #animal attack #forced transformation (kind of)#forced to perform #caged #whump event #my (twisted) pokemon journey #ditto defect #crystal OC #sebastian OC antagonist #pokemon #first person

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taleswritten · 1 year ago

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He's still on high alert so his eyes dart around, following Cid's every move. At him, at what he's doing, back at him, back to what he's doing - repeat. Even if he has calmed enough to allow Cid to help him, he still feels as if this is the calm before a storm.

Years of programming, years of fear, it is only natural for him to be still on guard. Hyperaware of everything because that is how you survive. You watch, listen, see everything and prepare accordingly.

He's still in survival mode. One wrong move and he might bare his teeth at Cid again, he must tread carefully, and Clive must force himself not to be so jumpy. For if he bares his fangs, he fears he will do so viciously, and there will be no mercy from someone who feels like an animal backed into a corner.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He's okay. He's got to be okay so that he doesn't hurt Cid for helping him, so that he doesn't mistake his help and kindness for something some sort of trick or ulterior motive.

With Cid closer to him, he gets a lot more self-conscious. With his palm up, he almost draws it away from Cid but it's too late, he already has a hold of his palm and Clive does not have the energy to fight him.

Fuck, he should have put on his gloves before coming here. They had gotten uncomfortable but he should have pushed himself through it so that this didn't happen.

Blue eyes flicker to his palm, dragging to the top of his wrist where his eyes settle on the scar for a moment and he draws in a shaky gasping breath before forcing his gaze away and over to stare at the desk.

Don't look. Don't ask questions.

Any other time and Clive would have laughed and teased Cid about the booze and Gav. But this is not any other time and his mood his soured considerably. It feels like there is this dark cloud above him that threatens to become larger and swallow him whole, pulling him into a void he will not be able to find his way out of.

Cid's hand on his keeps him grounded in reality, he finds this strange but not unwelcome.

It helps prevent the thoughts from spiraling further, which surprises him. He's never found comfort in the touch of an another before but Cid....founder, Cid feels like safety. He feels like the warm blanket his father used to wrap around him when he laid his head down at night, tucked tightly around him like a security blanket. Cid feels like security. Something that he has not hard in years nor never dared to dream he would have again.

He won't hurt him. How could he ever think that he would? The shame builds up again and he hopes that he has not hurt Cid by being scared that he would. The last thing he would ever want to do is hurt a man who has become so special to him in such a short amount of time.

"Forgive me....Cid." Clive's voice this time around is much quieter, it makes him sound small. He feels small in this moment. "I-I know you wouldn't hurt me....if I made you feel...." He trails off, eyes fluttering shut so that he does not have to look at Cid. He hopes he is getting his point across, words are not coming easy to him right now.

"A-Ah!" He hisses sharply through clenched teeth at the sting of the alcohol against his wound. Instinctively, he tries to pull his hand away before he settles again and forces himself to remain still.

Not all pain is bad, he reminds himself. Cid is only trying to help him, he has to remember that.

Wait....that wasn't even the worst part? There's more? It is in that moment Clive notices, through closed eyes, that the ale hadn't even gotten poured into the wound to disinfect it.

This is going to hurt. Again, he has to remind himself that this is for his own good. He's no stranger to mending wounds but he is a stranger to allowing others to do so.

Cid is only doing what he needs to do.

How many times does that thought run through his mind before he fully processes what Cid asks him?

"It's either that or risk infection." He's not sure which one he would prefer in this moment, honestly. Still, his eyes remain closed and he tilts his head back against the wall behind him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to force the nerves away, to calm the beating of his heartbeat that beats so fast that Clive thinks if it were possible, it would have burst right out of his chest by now.

"Do it."

Was it possible to overstep at this point? When it appears he's reached the peak, there's another mountain to climb. Cid's blood is pricking under his skin at Clive's words; his limbs conveniently remembering to do their job─to move.

'I'm... free?'

Something burns behind his eyes, disappearing as quick as it came, but it lingers. His throat is closing, leaving behind a gap that gets smaller and smaller everytime he attempts to swallow the feeling away.

Could it be he's just swimming further and further into treacherous waters the more he learns about Clive's past? They've all got their stories, their tragedies─it's what makes them human. Hell, it's even why they're all here at the Hideaway. Someplace enabling the choice of what to do with themselves; and that's nobody's business but their own. As long as the citizens of the sanctuary are fed, bed, and protected─prying into personal matters is of lowest priority.

But Clive's very, very quickly became his business and it's hilarious how much he doesn't mind. What the fuck does he know about handling other people's baggage? He can barely handle his own─so he doesn't.

That doesn't quite work out well in his favor, though. As the Gods decide if he doesn't want to deal with his own, that absolutely means he can deal with someone else's. A shamelessly cruel jest; not on him, but on the other─on Clive. Regardless, he wants it. He wants all of it. He wants Clive to be a burden, which seems like the complete opposite of whatever fate planned for him, so he's also weary. Cid should quit while he's ahead and swim back to shore, but he's been drowning for a while now.

When exactly did that start? Today? Yesterday? The week before? The day they met? It feels like a lifetime ago.

He doesn't know, but he tries.

Clive shows him the cut, which might as well have been him bearing his whole heart and soul to Cid. The gesture's an ordinary one, one he explicitly asked for, but he's struck gold. A treasure that can never be replicated nor sold; luck has yet to run out.

Cid bites off a 'thank you' at Clive's confirmation. It feels like too strange of thing to say─who's grateful for something like that? He's just as much of a prey that Clive feels himself is. Belly up, claws back; at this rate, he'll have little left to keep a mystery.

He skips a step walking up the raised platform, and begins digging through one of the many crates tucked in the corner. Cups and older reading materials thrash about as he fishes through the organized clutter to find even the smallest hint of an aid kit. All that turns up is a singular roll of gauze and a small cloth, but it'll get the job done.

❝ Might burn like a bitch, but we've got to clean that bastard. I know you're not a fan of ale but I hope you can make an exception this time 'round. ❞

Cid staggers over to the left side of his desk and tugs a drawer open, pulling out a bottle from his not-so-secret booze stash before settling down on the floor in front of Clive.

❝ Do me a favor n' don't tell anyone 'bout that, would you? Gav tends to steal the good stuff before I can even get to the bar. ❞

Any of that previous debilitating anxiety he felt has now morphed into an entity he recognizes, but can't stop. Cid needs to talk. He has to talk like his life depends on it; seizing the chance to rid them of an uneasy, deafening silence. Although, the questions come easier now, he figures he should be appreciative of that at least.

Heart thrumming loudly in his chest, he gently cups the underside of Clive's bleeding hand. Nothing strong enough to where Clive couldn't withdraw, but also not light enough to where there's no stability.

❝ I'm going to start cleaning it now, alright? You need me to stop, just say the word. ❞

Cid inhales, the breath he holds before plunging into the sea that is Clive once again. He pours a splash of ale on the cloth, waits for it to soak, then starts dabbing at the dried blood surrounding the gash. Nothing that resembles any shards reveal themselves, so he lets himself breathe a little. He was scared he'd have to perform a baby surgery─which he'd definitely need some assistance with.

The crusted residue is mostly gone, but now's for the tough bit─cleaning the actual wound itself.

There's been one too many close calls where all he had was a pint in the fields; but it never got easier. Phantom sizzling of open flesh makes him hesitate as he reaches for the bottle again. He's so sorry.

❝ This is the worst part. You still want me to do it? ❞

#riotseas #clive interactions

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elizabeths-writing-corner · 3 years ago

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Hi, can I get some Obey Me headcanons? I'd love headcanons (of the bros & Diavolo's reactions) to an MC who practically turns Cerberus into a show dog? Like they teach them tricks, groom them, put bows on their collar and fur, gives them treats, knits them doggy sweaters, & completely spoils them to the point that Cerberus is more MC's pet than Lucifer's.

I am so happy I got a request! And the idea is so cute too ♥ I hope I delivered ^^ I think that Cerberus is neglected in the game and I would love to see more of him!

Lucifer

It hurts his pride a little that you managed to wrap Cerberus around your finger after he has spent so long teaching him how to behave,

Now Cerberus looks more like a show dog rather than a hellhound with his pretty, velvet bows decorating all of three heads, which didn't suit him as The First Born's demon dog,

You spoiled your new "puppy" so much that now he listens to you most of the time, not Lucifer,

He didn't let you see Cerberus for about a week, he said that because of your treatment, he neglected his duties in protecting the grimoire and became too distracted,

But Cerberus couldn't stand a day without you! He yelped all the time so Lucifer had to lift his ban,

Now you act like dog parents; you're the spoiling one and he's the strict one.

Mammon

His first thought was of course to make money on your perfectly groomed and well-behaved demon dog, just imagine how popular he would be on dog shows!

The thing is; Cerberus won't let Mammon get close to him, he growls at him and the demon just runs away every time,

Even if there's no profit for him, he loves to watch you two from afar as you're playing fetch,

He says it's because he's guarding you in case Cerberus goes feral (which, of course, won't happen) but it's really just because he enjoys your strong bond,

He buys a lot of toys for Cerberus on Akuzon (mostly because of you).

Leviathan

He never had a strong desire to build a special bond with Cerberus but it changed after he saw how you take care of him,

It's something he could never do with Henry,

He was a little anxious at first but after you showed him all the tricks you taught Cerberus, he became more and more engaged,

Now you're taking care of him together, it's one of the few things Levi enjoys besides anime and gaming,

He records a lot of videos of you playing together and showing new tricks,

He has a couple of characters he would like to cosplay, that would require Cerberus to dress up as well, it's the cutest thing ever!

Satan

He's a cat person, as we all know, but he finds it amusing how you're practically Cerberus' owner now,

He enjoys how Lucifer gets jealous each time the dog runs towards you instead of him and how angry he gets when Cerberus won't obey his orders and listens to you,

There was that one time when Cerberus tried to attack Satan, therefore he was a bit skeptical about forming a bond with him but thanks to your mediating skills, they manage to get along,

Satan helps you groom him and tells you fun facts about the hellhound's origin.

Asmodeus

He was so excited about the idea of dressing Cerberus up, all of these ideas for pretty outfits flooded into his head,

He won't help you bathe or groom him, he would rather give directions,

After you're done with the hellhound, he's like a completely new beast; his fluffy, messy fur is now precisely cut and smooth, fangs all clean and he's dressed in a cute, pastel sweater, which was specifically designed by Asmo and knitted by you,

When Lucifer saw the results of your work, he had mixed feelings; on one hand, it was nice of you to take care of his pet but on the other, Cerberus is supposed to be the guardian of the grimoire, not a show dog...

Beelzebub

Besides Lucifer, Beel is the only brother who's able to maintain Cerberus, so he was shocked to see how you, a fragile human, were able to tame him,

Beel is so excited to walk him with you and teach him various tricks,

He's so supportive; he helps you clean, groom and feed Cerberus (he's a massive creature, therefore the portions he eats are giant as well),

He thinks it's so sweet when you call Cerberus cute pet names and he unconsciously started to use them too.

Belphegor

He began thinking about how to take advantage of this situation and turn Cerberus against Lucifer with your help,

Unfortunately, Belphie can't even go down to the tomb without being attacked by the hellhound and that's because he attempted to steal the grimoire numerous times, even when you managed to spoil Cerberus to the brim, his instincts remained,

He can't maintain his laughter when he sees him all dressed up in bows, ribbons and cute, doggy sweaters,

Belphie loves listening to stories about Lucifer getting mad at you for spoiling Cerberus like that.

& Diavolo

He has always been excited to see Cerberus and after you transformed him from a wild, demon dog into a cute, friendly pet, he's even happier to come to the tomb,

He's a huuuge dog dad and spoils him practically as much as you do,

When you two are done with the hellhound, he's exhausted from all the playing and he's full of treats,

Diavolo always says that a person who animals like is a good person overall,

Of course, he will help you make dog clothes for Cerberus! Why do you even ask?

Now Diavolo wants to have his own demon dog and make you take care of him too,

Maybe Solomon would help him summon an Orthrus?

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quandaryqueen · 2 years ago

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Big finale to the ex-spouse hero saga! After dance they go to one of theirs apartment when they have sex and next morning they decide to give it one last chance. YJ, BTAS, Harley Quinn

... Letting old flames burn ya

Edward Nygma X Reader

As continuations to these posts, Part I and II

🔞 MINORS DNI

Ahem so I'm quite frankly new to writing smut, excuse my inadequacy but this fic will contain: Blowjobs, against the wall fucking, anal and aftercare.

💚 Young Justice

After ditching the dancefloor, you happen to catch his lips within yours, in which he wasted no time to reciprocate with the same fervour. Pulling a moan from him was an easy feat, you just simply push him against a wall, take his shirt off and don't kissing him, bite his lip and let your hands feel around his body. It comes a point your hand rests upon his neck, where you stilled to feel his pulse beating vigorously under your touch.

He was about to ask you if there's something wrong, when your lips peppered gentle kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his neck with your thumb still pressed upon his pulse point. Your fluency with his body had your lips locked on his sweet spot, the juncture between his neck and shoulder. His pulse beats against your thumb erratically, making you smirk. Gently licking and nipping at this spot of his made his knees buckle, his only source of balance being the wall and you, as his grip on your clothes tightened.

He whines against your ear, biting his lip to supress his moan. Taking your thumb from his neck, you slide it between his lips and pried it open. Instinctively, he sucks on your thumb while he followed the way you lifted your head to gaze upon him.

"You're not going to silence yourself alright? Scream for me." Under your gaze, he was entranced and nods. "Good boy."

Continuing to mark his sweet spot, you pulled your thumb from his mouth and inserted your index and middle finger instead. Wanting nothing but your approval, he laps away at your fingers, not bothering to supress his moans.

Progressively you got lower and lower and find yourself on your knees, unbuckling his pants, unzipping his fly and pulling his underwear down just enough for his entire length out of its confines. Wasting no time, you give a few experimental strokes with your palm coated with you had coated with his spit before you knelt down, as you looked up to see his head lolled back, his chest heaving.

"Look at me... There, there..." He peers from half-lidded eyes, down to see your lips approaching his tip. "Wouldn't want to miss the show, don't we?"

Before he can think of a response, you take him in your mouth catching him off-guard, along with the garble of vocal nonsense trapped at the back of his throat. Thanking you, worshipping you... It's all sweet really, look up and you'd see a trail of his saliva on the side of his lips. Rewarding him, you braced yourself and bobbed your head further, letting his tip touch the back of your throat, where he came with no warning.

Pulling away, you had a mouthful of the remnants of him staining your lips. You looked up at him with narrowed eyes while he basked in the afterglow, as he pants against the wall whilst running a hand through his hair. Pulling him on the floor with you, you kissed him with cum-stained lips.

💚 Batman the animated series

Claiming his lips, a moan was suppressed as he continues to piston in and out of you. Sucking your tongue, he groans softly in your mouth when your legs tighten around his hips, along with your arms around his shoulders, where your grip had climbed at the back of his neck. Deprived of breath, he pulls away and remains close, his forehead pressed against yours.

You feel his chest heaving heavily against yours, wondering if he could feel how he made your heart raise. Then you felt it, the familiar coil that you knew full-well that Edward knows he was doing a good job.

You showed the same signs of your approaching orgasm, he notes mentally. Having to finally hold you always has a place in his daydreams when you parted ways, how he always dreamt of your touch, your warmth, that no matter how many times he tried to recreate it with others they can never suffice in the way you could. To have you by his side again felt like a dream and he would never want to wake up from it again.

Your trembling legs clamped tightly against his hips, burying your flushed face against his shoulder.

"Keep going... Keep going..." Said in a hushed voice, through shuddering breaths.

Pressing a kiss on your temple, he continues his pace as you wished and bites his lip when his own orgasm started building up.

"I love you..." Without his knowing, those words slips from his lips in the heat of the moment. Though he knows he had dropped something like this, he continues to thrust in spite of his head raising with thoughts when you fell silent... Maybe he should have stayed quiet?

"I love you too..."

Upon his ejaculation, your orgasm followed soon after, your thighs around his hips falling limp. He rests his head against the side of yours, basking in the afterglow of sex. Gently pulling out, he sweeps you from the back of your thighs and carries you to his room.

💚 Harley Quinn

His face was buried on the mattress, his grunts muffled, wherein he was ass up, receiving you on his backdoor. His trembling hands clutched the sheets as he felt his orgasm rise with your continuous pace, held with steady firmness. You knew which buttons to push, brushing by his prostate in just the right way.

You've denied him long enough of his bliss, as you'd pull out in moments of him finally achieving it, just goes to show how you still knew old territories. Not to mention how you deal with him when he doesn't get what he wants, he doesn't glare at you, oh no, he begs. And the Riddler, never begs.

In no time he reaches his peak and ejaculates on the sheets, and all he can think was fucking finally. Pulling out, you press a kiss on his temple. After catching his breath, he turns from his stomach and onto his back, to capture your lips in his, thanking you under laboured breaths.

"Hold on... Let me run you a bath for a moment. Would you like something to drink?" You muttered against his lips, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"We can do that later, I want to cuddle first."

"Eddie..." Your tone came as a playful warning tone.

"Fine. Water sounds nice. And some lavender scent on my bath."

"Gotcha. I'll be right back." Before you stood on your feet, you press a kiss on his cheek before leaving for said things.

#edward nygma #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #dc x reader #dc x you #edward nigma #request #young justice riddler #young justice riddler x reader #btas riddler #btas riddler x reader #harley quinn riddler #harley quinn riddler x reader #not sfw #patisilence

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thecreaturecodex · 3 years ago

Text

Grimm, Beowolf

Image © Rooster Teeth, accessed at the RWBY Wiki here

[Commissioned by @glarnboudin. I knew RWBY was a thing, an animated web series thing, but the size of the franchise completely passed me by. There are comic books, manga, multiple video games. And its monsters, the grimm, appear in all of them. The beowolf is an entry-level monster, capable of being slain in large numbers by our heroes in splash pages and the like, but I still wanted them to be tougher than mundane wolves. I’ve also included my (derived solely from browsing wikis) take on the grimm as a whole here, as a subtype.

And yes, RWBY purists, the canon beowolves don’t have a wind breath ability. Given the fairy tale nature of their premise, I wanted to give them some sort of reference to the Big Bad Wolf.]

Grimm The kytons and sahkils are united in their affection for fear and pain, and in their flouting of both morality and mortality. Unlike many other groupings of fiends, they sometimes collaborate, uniting their forces in order to change the cosmos for the worse. One of their most fecund creations are the grimm—foul parodies of animals that feed on negative emotional states. These form in pits of tarry liquid that congeal on the Plane of Shadow, and they can bleed over into the Material Plane where the borders between worlds are thin. On some worlds, they have all but replaced mundane animals. Both kytons and sahkils may keep grimms as guard animals, living torture equipment, and general pets.

All grimm appear as caricatures of the animal form, black with bony spurs and jagged claws. Their heads are skull-like and marked with red lines, and these glow along with their eyes when the creatures are riled. Grimms are as much of shadow as flesh, and when slain dissolve completely, leaving no physical remains. Unlike many other shadowy beings, they have no trouble with bright light, although they prefer the darkness. Grimms are immortal, and some are quite ancient. Although most grimms are barely more intelligent than the animals they resemble, as they age they gain both intelligence and power, and elder grimms can achieve human levels of intellect.

“Grimm” is a subtype of outsider with the following racial traits: Immune to emotion effects Resist acid 10 and cold 10 Negative energy affinity Intimidating Prowess as a bonus feat Animalistic (Ex) A grimm is not proficient with any manufactured weapons. Grimms understand Infernal but cannot speak

Grimm, Beowolf CR 2 NE Outsider (extraplanar) This creature is a vaguely humanoid wolf, its posture stooped and its hands more like paws. It has black fur marked by white bone spurs, and its head is a skull-like mask.

Beowolves are the most common grimms, as wolves are found as figures of fear in many cultures. They are pack hunters, traveling in large groups to sniff out and take down prey. Beowolves are nimble creatures, and often make use of terrain in order to slow down less agile enemies. Their combat strategies are relatively simple, although they can generate gusts of supernatural wind simply by exhaling. Most beowolves use this ability to knock down temporary shelters to feast on the cowering creatures inside.

A beowolf that survives for an extended period of time may grow into an alpha beowolf. Such creatures are Large in size, with 6 HD. An alpha beowolf is a CR 4 creature. Beowolves instinctively follow alpha beowolves and will fight to the death to protect one. Beowolf paws are dexterous enough to grasp rocks and clubs, and some beowolves take Catch Off-Guard or Throw Anything as feats. It would take a very patient instructor to teach a beowolf how to use more complicated weaponry.

Beowolf CR 2 XP 600 NE Medium outsider (extraplanar, evil, grimm) Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +5, scent Defense AC 14, touch 12, flat-footed 12 (+2 Dex, +2 natural) hp 16 (3d10) Fort +3, Ref +5, Will +1 Immune emotion effects; Resist acid 10, cold 10 Defensive Abilities negative energy affinity Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee bite +5 (1d6+1), 2 claws +4 (1d4+1) Special Attacks huff and puff Statistics Str 13, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 3, Wis 11, Cha 12 Base Atk +3; CMB +4; CMD 15 Feats Intimidating Prowess (B), Nimble Moves, Weapon Focus (bite) Skills Acrobatics +6, Climb +5, Intimidate +7, Perception +4, Stealth +6, Survival +4 (+8 tracking by scent); Racial Modifiers +4 Survival when tracking by scent Languages Infernal (cannot speak) SQ animalistic Ecology Environment any land and underground (Plane of Shadow) Organization solitary, pair, pack (3-12) or horde (13-36) Treasure none Special Abilities Animalistic (Ex) A beowolf is not proficient in any manufactured weapons. Huff and Puff (Su) As a standard action, a beowolf can exhale a thirty foot line of wind that acts as a gust of wind spell. It may use this ability three times per day, but must wait 1d4 rounds between uses.

#grimm #beowolf #rwby #commissions #big bad wolf #pathfinder 1e

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misfits-of-zaun · 2 years ago

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To Ekko's surprise, the Sheriff didn't attempt to haggle - she simply nodded in solemn response to his demands. Was it really going to be this simple? He didn't detect any obvious signs of deception from the piltie, but that wasn't a guarantee that she intended to uphold her word, or that he wasn’t going to get played somewhere further down the line.

"I will see to it that I wipe any current arrest warrants for any Firelights. And I will uphold the other two conditions, as long you don't use this invulnerability cloak to your advantage."

In spite of himself, Ekko felt his shoulders bristle a little, his lip curling up at her tacked on condition - as if them not being hunted down in the streets like animals was a privilege she was extending. As if the constant threat of death was supposed to have been keeping his people in line, and she thought giving them that inch of leniency might result in them taking a mile.

Before he could shoot off a sharp retort, however, the Sheriff seemed to recognise her misstep, and made an effort to smooth things over.

"I did not mean that in a way to offend you. I just meant that if we're going to work together, we're going to have to trust each other."

Ekko eyed her, but his gloved hands grudgingly unclenched from the fists they'd formed at his sides, and the tension in his shoulders eased fractionally. The Sheriff was, unfortunately, right - trust was the basis for forming any type of agreement, whether it was a big business contract, or a clandestine backstreet alliance between sumpsnipes. Still. Trust did not need to be unconditional or absolute in order to be functional.

"When I give my word, I mean it," The Firelight leader replied flatly, the distorted growl of his voice brooking no argument.

"And if you're really the person you're trying to convince me you are, then I can trust you'll do the same."

The idea of working with enforcers still left a sour taste in his mouth. This particular one, however, seemed to be defying all the conventions of her kind so far. This meeting wasn't a shallow show of making nice, either, which was a testament to her sincerity; the Sheriff was actively making an effort, and it was clear in the carefully respectful way she spoke to him and looked at him.

He wanted this to work. His people needed it to work. Time would tell whether his gut instincts were right to go for it.

"If I follow your three conditions,"

Ah, here came the haggling. Of course the Sheriff was laying down conditions of her own. Ekko had expected this, but the words still raised his guard. This was the moment where all cards were laid on the table. Depending on what she wanted in return, this deal could remain viable or completely fall apart. He had to be prepared to walk away (or at the very least, be seen as willing to walk away) if she had the audacity to demand something he and his people simply could not give.

"-you and the rest of the Firelights will agree to help keep the peace and ultimately take Sil—well, Silco's old operations down, as well as anything relating to it, together."

Ekko's brows knitted together in a dubious frown behind his mask. On the surface, the request seemed simple, and not especially outside the lines of what the Firelights had already been trying to do. But the vagueness of the wording - 'keep the peace', namely, and 'anything relating to' Silco's old operations... well, that left the Sheriff with a great deal of flexibility to call upon the Firelights' help, and could be applied in ways that directly clashed with his people's own goals.

"Do we have a deal?"

The Sheriff extended her hand, clearly ready to close the negotiations.

Be careful.

If something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. Ekko's arms folded across his chest, pointedly, conveying his reluctance to take her outstretched hand and agree immediately.

"We won't be your Underground hounds," he warned her, blunt and adamant.

"We'll help you so long as our causes align - to undo the damage that has been done to this city. To fix things. To make the streets safer for everyone. But," Ekko stepped in closer for emphasis, chin jutting upwards to maintain direct eye contact in spite of the height difference, "This doesn't mean we work for you. You don't get to sic us on all your problems."

A gloved hand snapped outwards to grasp the Sheriff's own in a steely grip - as much a warning and a challenge as it was a gesture of willingness to forge a contract under the stipulated terms.

Take it or leave it, Sheriff Shiny-Shoes.

Ekko had a feeling he knew what the answer would be. But if there was ever a point at which Caitlyn might balk, and her Friendly Cop face might crack to reveal any underlying intentions, it would be now, when he was in her space. When he was pushing her to define them as equals, and accept that the Firelights would not be controlled.

Plenty of powerful people turned sour on a deal when they realised the person they were negotiating with wasn't a fool, and they weren't going to have the advantage of control they'd been expecting. Would this Sheriff be the same, or was she keen enough to come to an agreement that she'd respect these clear-cut boundaries?

"So long as we're clear on that, then the deal is the deal."

@gauntlets-shot

"I understand, I'm not here for any trouble. I...I want to right the wrongs the enforcers have done to you and your people in the past."

Oh, so Sheriff Shiny-Shoes was acknowledging that her people had done wrong?

That was certainly a new tune to hear from an enforcer. Ekko wasn't inclined to give her brownie points for it or anything, but it was enough for him to hold his tongue and let her keep talking.

"I'm not like Marcus. I'm nothing like him. I would never team up with Silco or his affiliates for an extra buck."

A bold assertion to make, given how easily corruption had infected her peers. Still, she sounded sincere enough in her renouncing of the previous Sheriff. That was something.

"I want what you want: peace. I want this battle, this war to be stopped before it could develop further."

Beneath the inscrutable armour of his mask, Ekko's expression shifted into something more ruminative and cautiously hopeful. The new Sheriff was saying all the right things, so far. If she meant what she was saying, and this offer of truce was legit, it could pave the pathway to some pretty significant positive changes for his people. They wouldn't be hunted in the streets any more. They wouldn't have to hide.

Vander had established an alliance with Sheriff Grayson in an effort to reduce conflict and protect his people. It hadn't worked out so well, but the building blocks of something better had been there. And as much as Ekko resented topsiders, he could recognise the value in forging connections and working towards a mutually beneficial goal.

"That's why I want to establish an alliance between the enforcers and the Firelights. They're under new management, my management and I believe we can create a positive change if we work together."

An alliance. To establish peace. With Piltover enforcers.

It sounded like a dream. Could it really be achieved?

How much could he trust her word?

...Well. Only one way to find out.

After a long, appraising pause, the Firelight leader dropped down from his perch and approached her with steady, confident steps. Now standing face to face, the height disparity was immediately obvious, but it didn't faze him; he held a cynical little reservation about whether he'd continue to be treated with the same respect when Sheriff Shiny-Shoes realised she was dealing with a teenager, though.

Until he knew for sure that this was going to work, his mask was staying on. He couldn't risk the Sheriff of Piltover seeing his face and being able to identify him, if this went south.

"...Three conditions. First, you keep your enforcers off my Firelights - if any of them attack us, we will defend ourselves. Second, you wipe any outstanding Firelight arrest warrants." Ekko stated his terms; a gruff, non-negotiable growl through his voice distortor.

"Third - you publicly set the record straight. We're not murderers. We're not terrorists. But thanks to Silco, my people have been blamed for a lot of shit we didn't do, lately. So help make it right."

@gauntlets-shot

#arcane rp #muse: ekko

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fanfic-chan · 3 years ago

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Hi! A prompt, if you don't mind. Since there's not many content with Todoroki siblings, maybe some family bonding with lee Shoto and lers Natsuo and Fuyumi. Like, Shoto finally feels comfortable and close to them enough for cuddles and affection, and they realise their baby brother is touch-starved (and unexpectedly ticklish)

I- I cannot even put into words how much I enjoyed this prompt! I absolutely loved every minute of writing this and I'm so glad you decided to send it to me! Poor Shouto is so touch starved and I love every opportunity I get to give him some much needed love! I really hope you guys like it!^^

Better Late than Never

Lers: Fuyumi and Natsuo Todoroki

Lee: Shouto Todoroki

"Hey. Can you guys tickle me?"

Fuyumi couldn't even blame Natsuo when he promptly started choking on the soda he'd been drinking in surprise. Of all the things that she would have expected her socially inept younger brother to say, it certainly wasn't that.

The three of them had been hanging out in the living room together, watching some animated movies that Shouto had borrowed from one of his classmates, Izuku Midoriya. That green haired kid that he'd fought during the UA Sports Festival.

Apparently, their youngest sibling had been doing some 'research' as he put it, on sibling bonding techniques, and had been interviewing a few of his classmates to figure out what they liked to do with their siblings. Tonight he'd suggested the three of them have a family movie night while their father was away on a business trip and he had some time off from school, an idea he'd gotten from his classmate, Hanta Sero.

Ecstatic that their little brother finally seemed ready to open up to them, they immediately agreed, and the three of them were currently cuddled up together in the impromptu blanket fort that Shouto had insisted was a must when it came to a proper family movie night because, 'Sero said so.'

And so it was.

Admittedly, things had been going pretty well up until now, when their stoic peppermint of a little brother had turned to them, family bonding list in hand, and had asked, in the most blank tone possible, if they could tickle him of all things.

"Shouto, um, if you don't mind me asking, what brought on that question?" Fuyumi asked after a moment, patting Natsuo's back firmly while he still struggled to catch his breath after almost drowning himself in Fanta. Shouto didn't even bat an eye at his older brother's near death experience, and instead kept his expression carefully emotionless. However, he was fiddling with the hem of his shirt slightly, as if he might be nervous.

"Oh. Well, Kirishima said he likes to bond with his younger siblings by tickling them. I'm the youngest, so I just thought maybe that's how it was supposed to go and that maybe we could do that too." He explained calmly, though there was a tad bit of barely noticeable apprehension there as well. "Is that… Wrong?" He asked hesitantly, tilting his head and taking on a rare expression of clear confusion as he started flipping through his notes again. Fuyumi couldn't decide whether the sight was adorable or flat out hilarious. Heck. Maybe it was a little of both.

"Oh! No! No of course it's not wrong! Just.. a little unexpected? I guess it's just surprising! Not bad though. It's good actually! Really good!" She answered hurriedly, not wanting to ruin this rare moment of trust Shouto was showing. He'd never really gotten the chance to bond with them properly when they were little, and his social skills definitely left something to be desired, so for him to be purposefully seeking out the opportunity to do normal siblings things with them? Especially things like physical displays of affection? Well, that was a pretty big deal.

He looked up at her and blinked, relaxing after a moment and setting his notes aside, seemingly satisfied with her hasty explanation.

"Oh." He said after a pause. "So.. You'll.. You'll do it then?" He asked quietly, and if she didn't know any better, it looked like he might even be blushing. Fuyumi couldn't help allowing herself a fond smile. When had her little brother gotten so adorable dang it?! There was definitely no way she could say no to that!

Rather than giving a verbal answer right away though, she instead let her expression morph into something a tad more mischievous and looked over at Natsuo, who had by some miracle managed to recover from his coughing fit. "Hey Natsu? Remember that thing Touya used to do to us when we were kids?" She asked with a smirk, suddenly scooping up their little brother from behind and pulling him into her lap when he wasn't looking, catching him off guard. She quickly wrapped her arms around his torso, trapping him effectively while simultaneously preventing him from being able to bring his arms all the way down, leaving him exposed.

Natsuo looked just as confused as Shouto did for a moment before realization suddenly seemed to hit him. Back when they were younger, sometimes Touya would scoop one of them up into his lap and trap them there, then he'd warningly tell them, "Don't laugh or flinch at all or else~" and wiggle his fingers just above their stomach, occasionally pretending to dip his hand down before bringing it back up again. This would go on until eventually they'd break and he'd finally start clawing into their sides or ribs or armpits. It was never the same spot, and so the inability to guess or prepare for it always made it so much worse. They loved it, and hopefully, so would Shouto now that he would actually have a chance to play.

He smiled slightly at the memory before crawling over to sit in front of his two siblings, the younger of them looking more than a little confused. "Um. What are you two doing? What did Touya used to do?" He asked, voice deceptively calm even as an anxious smile was starting to pull at his lips. Just because he'd never been allowed to participate didn't mean he hadn't seen his siblings playing this game before, and he had to admit, it was kind of exciting to finally be a part of it, even if he was a bit nervous.

"What do you mean 'what are we doing'? You wanted us to tickle you right? So what better time than now to teach our dear little Shouto about our favorite tickle game hm?" Fuyumi teased, making him squirm a bit in anticipation as he watched Natsuo slowly move his hands toward his stomach, which he sucked in instinctively.

"The rules are simple." Fuyumi began, "Don't laugh,"

"Or flinch at all-" Natsuo joined.

"Or else~" They finished together, and with that, the game had begun.

Shouto held up pretty good for about seven minutes. After all, due to both his extensive training on self control as a child and the countless tickle fights he'd already gotten into with his classmates back at the dorms, he'd managed to build up a fair amount of resistance, and he remained stubbornly quiet and still no matter how many times Natsuo tried to catch him off guard. That is until Fuyumi decided to cheat by pinching his side right at the exact moment Natsuo decided to bring his hand down again, and he arched his back in surprise right into his older brother's waiting fingers.

"GYAH- Ahahahahaha! No! Nohoho wait!! Fuyuhuhumi you cheheheheater!!!" He laughed, collapsing into his sister's chest as Natsuo started digging into his sides. "Cheater? Me? Are you hearing this Natsu? Shouto's accusing me of being a cheater! The nerve!" Fuyumi exclaimed, feigning outrage as she joined in by scribbling her fingers over his ribs and into his armpits, making him squeal adorably. By now, he'd been squirming around so much that his head had ended up cradled in her lap, giving her a perfect view of his joyful smile. The sight of her little brother, so happy and carefree in this moment, it almost brought her to tears, and she couldn't resist the urge to discretely snap a few quick pictures of the scene with her phone, both as a keepsake and to send to their mom later along with the others she'd gotten throughout the night.

"NONONONO!! NOT THEHEHERE! NOT THE FEET NATSUHUHU!! AHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Shouto honestly couldn't remember a time he'd felt this much joy. Tickle fights with his classmates were always fun, sure, but this? This level of closeness and affection being shared between him and his siblings right now? It was like having a hole filled that had been empty for far to long. He never wanted it to stop.

"What? Not here? Why not? Is someone a little sensitive riiight here~?"

"YEHEHEHES! I AHAHAM! PLEASE! PLEAHEASE STAHAHAHAP!!! I'M DONE FOR NOHOHOW!!""

Okay he didn't want it to stop, but maybe, um, maybe he did need to breathe though. His siblings seem to recognize this as well and quickly let up. He shot them both a grateful smile as he curled into a ball on his side, still giggling. This time, Natsuo was the one who couldn't resist the urge to record it.

"I.. I love you... Guys.." Shouto mumbled between giggles, and they both froze. Did- Did he really just?...

Shouto barely had time to process what was happening before he was literally being crushed in a bear hug between his two siblings, and despite his sudden inability to breathe again, he returned the embrace happily because maybe.. Maybe this is what he'd been missing all along.

#bnha+tickling #sfw tickles #sfw #shouto todoroki #fuyumi todoroki #natsuo todoroki #todoroki siblings #lee!todoroki #requests

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theequeerstrian · 2 years ago

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A person just needs to take one look at a normal shelter and see the overwhelming evidence of dog breeds average households can't handle. It's all Pit Bulls, German Shepherds, and Huskies. All poorly bred messes of dog genetics and bad instincts. Sure there's some great dogs in that mix, but there's so many more dangerous ones.

To be fair, the vast majority of non-mutt dogs in shelters are also from backyard (aka irresponsible) breeders. Puppies from responsible breeders will always come with a puppy return clause (this is one thing I'm unrelenting on- certain health tests are as needed per breed, but the puppy return is crucial) SPECIFICALLY so that their dogs never end up falling between the cracks and going to shelters and poorly matched homes.

But.. you're absolutely right in that most of those breeds are POOR matches for the average pet home. The best bred husky, GSD, pit bull, etc will not last long in a household that's not prepared for a dog with high drive and/or high prey drive. Pit bulls were bred to fight (at first bulls, and then each other- the fact that aggression is a feature and not a bug is simply fact), German Shepherds were originally bred for herding but have largely been adapted as guard/attack dogs, especially since WWI (though obviously the herding instinct remains, it's just amped up and more readily turned on non-livestock targets), and huskies were bred to have the stamina/drive/love for running miles and miles at a time, often for several days in a row. Sure, not every musher is doing an iditarod every other week, but pulling a loaded sled even for just a few miles is HARD WORK and the resulting dog NEEDS HARD WORK.

There's a huge issue, especially that I've seen in the last decade or so, of people getting dogs purely off aesthetic. Huskies are pretty, Central Asian Shepherd's Dogs are big and "impressive" (this one's usually cis men who haven't examined their relationship to toxic masculinity lol), Pit Bulls have a built in "poor me" sob story for their owners (swear to god this is why half the people who have them do, they love that they get to whine about their poor nanny dog being targeted), and so on and so forth.

When I was a kid you didn't just?? Get any dog? Maybe it was my environment, but I distinctly remember seeing shows on animal planet talk about how important it is to get a breed of dog that matches your lifestyle. I had the AKC's Complete Dog Book and read it cover to cover several times picking out my favorite breeds. As a kid I couldn't FATHOM actually getting to own a doberman, as a child I knew I couldn't manage one so I didn't think it possible. I stayed obsessed though, and as I grew up and was more and more determined to have one someday so I adapted MYSELF to be a good fit for one. When I approached breeders, the ones who were ready to just toss me a puppy no questions asked didn't get any further inquiry. The one who actually screened me, interviewed me to make sure I was qualified? To make sure I wasn't going to dump the dog as soon as it became inconvenient? That's the one I got my dog from. Kandi's puppy contract has a no breeding clause (or if I did want to breed, I had to work directly with the breeder to ensure he was correctly titled and tested first), and a puppy return clause (breeder told me a story of a person who HAD violated this, and it took him months to find the dog and get it back but he did it and thank god bc the dog had been in rough shape, BUT THAT'S WHAT GOOD BREEDERS DO).

This. Has gotten venty/ranty but what the hey it's 7am and I'm avoiding getting ready for work.

ANYWAY.

TL;DR: generations of selective breeding matter, good breeders matter, pick the dog that matches your lifestyle not your aesthetic, don't buy sob stories from manipulative rescues

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years ago

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Ok so I had a prompt idea? We’re all familiar with the “villain is sent to a ‘rehabilitation center’ that turns out to be secretly torturing the villains there” trope, but consider this: scared villain is captured by a kind hero and sent to a villain rehabilitation center, and villain has never experienced such warmth and kindness! Not to mention frequent visits from hero to check up/see how they’re doing. Maybe it’s no good but just a thought I had; I love your writing so much!! 💛🌼

(No pressure though, I know you’re probably busy!)

Oh, I absolutely love this prompt! Evil rehab centers are all well and good, but I’d never thought of one as being a source of comfort. I hope you like this! I was going to do some more with it, but it was already running a little long ^^

Thanks so much for the prompt!

CW//Arson, burning buildings, smoke inhalation, fear of death, gross food, mentions of torture, animal disease

As though singed by smoke, Villain’s lungs burned.

Even as they gasped, they felt as though they could not inhale a single breath. Yet, somehow, they had enough air to keep going.

It wasn’t as though they had a choice.

They were unsure, at that point, if their legs were truly moving at all. They had lost feeling in them far too long ago to be able to verify such a thing. Somehow, though, they were moving forward. Even if they wanted to, they didn’t know if they could stop, with momentum pushing them as it was.

Everything was riding on this. Days of keeping ahead, of leading the chase. If they stopped moving for just a moment, it would all be wasted.

And their life would be over. If they stopped running now, there would be no Villain left.

In that instant, they understood what it was to be a rabbit. When there was a fox on your tail, there were no do overs. No second chances. It was run or die.

As long as they could, they were going to run.

Villain couldn’t remember the name of the building in which they had managed to find the briefest of respites. Despite its sprawling size, there was nothing truly remarkable about it. Perhaps it did not have a name in the first place. At some point, it had been some sort of industrial complex-- the home of half a dozen separate companies, each clashing and butting up against one another.

Yet, the structure had long since been left to rot. They had a feeling that mold clinging to every corner had something to do with that.

Just a week ago, they would never have dreamed of so much as going someplace like this. The air smelled rotten, and breathing it left a sour taste sticking to their tongue. Not to mention the fact that several animals of varying size and danger had already claimed the rotten complex as their home.

But, they weren’t the same Villain they had been a week ago. Stumbling upon the building had felt like a gift from above, and, the night prior, they’d managed to get some honest-to-god rest among its sodden carpeting.

It was the most rest they’d gotten in days, despite the fact that, halfway through it, they’d awoken to a diseased rat with its teeth buried in their forearm. They’d had worse awakenings.

After shooing away the animal, they’d managed to sleep an hour or so more. Then came the worse of their two awakenings, that night.

The shouting voices of heroes.

Villain didn’t know how they’d found them. There was no trace, no trail. They had no vehicle-- instead moving through the woods on foot. ‘On foot’ was quite literal in that instance, considering the fact that they’d lost their shoes three days ago to a patch of quickmud.

But, still, they’d been found.

They didn’t no how long ago it was, that they’d been awakened by those voices. With the darkened building’s clocks hanging stubbornly on the wrong minute and hour, there was no way to tell how long it had been.

How long they’d been running...

Villain skidded around a corner, hissing as their foot caught on an uprooted carpet tack. Had they been this way before? It was impossible to tell-- all the halls looked the same.

The halls repeated, just as the heroes’ footsteps did.

How were they not tired?

Maybe because they’d eaten. And slept. And had water.

Villain had found that stream the other day, though...

Everything about them seemed to be repeating. The walls. The footsteps.

The lies of the heroes.

“Just stop running! We don’t want to hurt you!”

They couldn’t count just how many times they’d heard those words. Lies. Of course they were lies! Or, perhaps, it was their own sick attempt at a joke. We don’t want to hurt you, we just want to kill you!

Villain wasn’t ready to die. Not just yet.

Another corner was taken with haste, and their nostrils were overwhelmed with the scents of rust and oil.

The garage was massive-- reaching further upwards than the shreds of sunlight filtering through dusty windows could reach with their furthest rays. Its concrete floor stretched out, seemingly, all the way to the horizon-- dotted only by support beams, and whatever scattered machinery and supplies the company had not deemed valuable enough to bring along.

The source of the scent of gasoline was quite rapidly made apart. Stacked haphazardly in the corner, red gas containers stood. Their reek alone made it well known that they were far from empty.

But the gas was far from Villain’s main concern regarding the garage.

In the past few days, they had become awfully good at finding exits. It was with a ruthless instinct that they scanned the room for one.

But, in the end, they reached a terrifying conclusion.

There was one exit. It was the same door as the entrance. The garage doors on the other side of the chamber had long since been chained shut, and there was no time for lockpicking.

The heroes flooded in.

It was with an exhausted hopelessness and steadfast stubbornness that they kept running forth. Of course, with their terrible luck, they did not make it very far. A rebar pipe caught their toes, sending them sprawling onto the concrete, pain shrieking from a thousand different, tiny wounds.

For a few seconds, Villain let themself breathe. They figured that, at the very least, they should let themself enjoy their last moments alive.

Their relaxation did not last long. They refused to die laying down. Trembling from exhaustion, pain, starvation, dehydration, and terror, all at once, they staggered to their feet. For a moment, their vision blurred, before solidifying once more.

Half a dozen heroes fanned out before the entrance, guarding it ruthlessly. Faux looks of concern painted their countenances.

From the array of aches and pains swarming Villain, a single one, all at once, made itself known. Something pressing up against their leg.

Their lighter.

Their trembling gaze flicked to the pile of glimmering red gas cans. It was behind them-- only a few steps back. If they could just...

“Villain!” The person in the front of the group called out-- Hero. “There’s nowhere else to go. It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You just need to come with us. You can’t survive like this much longer, you know that!”

No. What they couldn’t survive was the heroes.

But, they didn’t have to.

Villain took a step back, inching towards the pile.

“Come on, buddy!” Another hero called. “What are you so afraid of?”

It was the heroes who should be afraid. Another step back.

“There’s nowhere to run, Villain.” Hero spoke once more. “Just come with us. No harm will come to you, I swear to it.”

No.

Villain wasn’t ready to die. Not today.

They took the final step, until they were mere inches from the pile. With a well-placed kick, and a horrible clattering, the cans toppled from their precarious pyramid. The reek of gas grew tenfold as brown liquid spilled out, onto the concrete below.

Stepping back from the gasoline-- they were ready to go, not just yet-- they reached into their pocket. The heroes had no time to identify the object they pulled out. By the time they realized what had happened, the lighter had already been thrown.

The flame leapt into the air with such force that Villain was thrown back, tossed to the concrete like a ragdoll.

The faux compassion on the heroes faces turned to an emotion that was very, very real.

Fear.

Spreading so fast that its growth could be heard, the inferno pounced, grabbing onto the base of a wooden support beam and licking its way upwards.

“Everyone!” Hero shouted-- terror in their voice overpowered by sheer determination. “Get out! This building’s not stable.”

“W-what about you?”

“If I’m not out within five minutes, send someone in after me.”

“Are you certain?”

“We’re heroes. And, sometimes, that means saving villains, too.”

Despite their clear reluctance, the other heroes, one by one, nodded, allowing their terror to spur them to flee.

When the last of them was gone, only two remained in the garage. The villain and the hero.

Villain looked upwards, watching as the flame reached the top of the support beam and rippled onto the ceiling.

There were only two ways this could end. They knew that.

Either Hero lost their nerve and fled, allowing their prey to escape, or they both perished in the flames.

No matter which came to pass, there was only one thing that mattered:

They would not die by the hands of a hero.

“You’re scared.” Hero began. Another stupid speech. “I know. I know you’re scared. This last week has been hell for you, I know that. But it doesn’t have to go down like this. You can still make the right choice.

Please. Come with me. I don’t want to hurt you. Believe it or not, I don’t want you to die!”

“You’re a bad liar, you know.” They croaked.

Villain’s lungs were already torn from gasping. The slowly-rising smoke only served to salt their wounds.

Before them, a flaming ceiling tile fell, spraying them with embers.

“You don’t want this! I know you don’t! You don’t want to die!”

“Why do you think I’m doing this?! Of course I don’t want to die, you fucking idiot!”

“Then come with me!”

“It’s like you don’t even hear yourself.”

The building shuddered as a support beam splintered and collapsed. The force of it sent Villain, once again, to the concrete, bathing their face in smoke. As they scrambled to their hands and knees, they could not help but let out a shuddering cough.

“Villain! Watch out!”

“Wh-”

The ceiling tile struck their head, burying them under its accompanying rubble.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Warmth... and music.

They awoke to warmth, and music.

The first of the two came in the form of something soft, heavy, enveloping them, making them feel as though they were buried within a cloud. The music, too, seemed to surround them-- there were no words to it, just the soft, lulling tone of a piano, accompanied by the occasional splash of waves.

It was confusion that first whispered to Villain, when their leaden eyelids at last agreed to open. Above them sat an off-white sky, stretching out to meet with a light blue wall. They blinked once more.

Where...

The chase the heroes the running the building the gas the fire the rubble the-

Villain jolted upright, tossing off of themself a heavy, fleece blanket. Trembling fingers gripped the mattress below them as they scanned the world around, instincts kicking in, searching frantically for an exit.

The room was small, walls colored a soft, baby blue, and lit by a pair of lamps with warm, orange bulbs. The few items of furniture were made of a light brown wood-- three small nightstands, two in corners, and one next to the bed in which Villain lay.

Next to one of the stands was placed a small writing desk and chair, while the other was accompanied by a potted plant, petals just starting to emerge from its buds. Embedded in one wall, a window stood, a small radio perched upon its sill.

The door was at the room’s far end, next to their bed. A wooden door with brass handle-- easy to break down.

But guarded.

Before the door, a figure stood-- a person dressed in a bright flannel, from the breast pocket of which stuck an overabundance of pens.

They did not look particularly strong, but, then again, neither did Villain. At the sound of their movement, the figure turned to face them, a smile growing upon their round face.

“I didn’t even notice you waking up.” They hummed. “Good morning.”

There were two options for escape: The door or the window. Neither was particularly desirable, but they had to choose one...

“Hey, buddy.” The stranger’s voice felt almost as warm as the fleece blanket. “You’re looking a bit like a deer in the headlights, there. I’m sure this is all a bit overwhelming, and I’m sure you’re pretty confused. I’d be confused too, trust me.”

No. There was no confusion in Villain’s mind. They were focused on one thing, the only thing that mattered: Getting out of here!

The flannel-wearing figure took a few steps towards the bed. In instinctual panic, the villain scrambled to their hands and knees, shuffling backwards until their spine was flush with the headboard.

“Hey, hey, shhh.” They hushed. “I’m sorry I scared you. I’ll stay right back here, okay?”

“L-Let me out of here!”

The figure frowned.

“Bud, I’m not sure that you’d last another day out there. Not in the state Hero found you in.”

Hero. Of course they were working for Hero.

“I’ll explain everything, alright bud? But let’s just start here. My name’s Doctor. What’s yours?”

Villain only then noticed that they were shaking like a leaf. Whatever this method of torture or interrogation or whatever it is was, they wanted no part in it. They just wanted to go home! To get out! Warm bed or not, this was a prison. They were sure of it.

But, the bed was comfortable, and there wasn’t a single rat in sight...

“How about this...” Doctor coaxed. “You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you what’s going on, okay?”

A trade. Information for information.

Was it worth it? They supposed there was little use in lying.

“V-Villain. My name’s Villain.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Villain.”

“Now, wh-what is this p-place?”

Doctor nodded.

“This is the Supervillain Memorial Villainous Recovery Center. We’re in the city, right by the river. Next to the botanical gardens, if you know where that is.”

They were really telling them the location of their prison? Surely it would have been better to keep such a thing secret. That is, assuming they were telling the truth.

“I believe you’ve been asleep for about... seventeen hours.” Doctor glanced to their watch. “Yep, just about. You’ve been here for maybe half that time. After you got caught in the fire, Hero brought you to the hospital. They bandaged your wounds and brought you here. I hope you slept well.”

Villain almost laughed at that, before a realization struck them. They had slept well. Sure, remnants of the specter of fatigue still haunted them, but for the first time in days, they felt awake enough to think clearly.

But, this was still a prison.

Right?

Prisons didn’t usually have soft beds and fleece blankets, but...

No. It was a trick. This was a prison, and they were a prisoner.

“Let me go.” Villain insisted, though it was halfhearted. “Y-You can’t keep me here! I’m leaving. I need to leave!”

Doctor frowned again, biting their lower lip.

“I’m sorry, Villain, but for now, you’re going to have to stay here. But, I promise, you’ll like it here.” They sighed. “I know you’re scared, and confused, and a thousand other things. But, here, you’re safe. There’s other people here-- quite a few of them, in fact. And, at one point, they were all like you. But ask any one of them. This is the best place for you to be.”

Other people?

“Where are they? W-What are you doing to them?!”

Doctor smiled.

“They’re in our main wing, right now. I believe everyone is eating lunch right about now. I don’t know about you, but where I come from, lunch isn’t a form of torture.”

Villain pursed their lips.

“Then, where am I?”

“This is our arrivals wing. You’re going to stay here, for a few days. Until you’re comfortable, and we can make sure all that smoke is out of your lungs. Then you can join in with everyone else. I’m gonna move over to the side of the bed now, okay? I won’t touch you.”

Even with the warning, Villain couldn’t help but flinch as Doctor approached. They moved to the nightstand at the bed’s side, plucking a small, red box from its surface.

“Hero told me to give this to you, when you got up. It’s not exactly the most nutritious thing to start your day off with, but I think you deserve something tasty.”

They offered the box. After a moment of hesitance, Villain snapped it from their hands, drawing it close to their chest. Was it a threat? Some kind of warning? Morbid curiosity took hold of them, prompting them to open the box’s lid.

Chocolates.

A dozen chocolates, laid out in the design of a star.

“I can eat these?”

“Go ahead.”

Without hesitance, this time, they popped one of the candy pieces into their mouth. Its flavor overwhelmed them, strong enough to nearly knock them over. It’d been days since they’d eaten anything that didn’t come off a bush or from the dumpster.

“Um...” Villain looked back up, closing the box. “So, when are you going to kill me?”

Doctor laughed.

“Hero will be visiting tomorrow. With how long they can talk for, I think you’re only in danger of dying of boredom.”

This was a prison. Of course it was.

Yet, as they glanced down at the box of chocolates, they could not help but forget all thought of panic and escape.

#villain whumpee #whump #hero caretaker #scared whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #ask

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defiedlife · 2 years ago

Text

Upon the beginning of his return to awareness, a cold stone floor greeted Diluc once more. He was slow to stir, his body still tired and sore after his impromptu nap—if it could be called that by any stretch of the imagination. Multiple superficial injuries from the weapons of Haeresys’ guards still stung, and the use of electro to stun him had left behind a deep ache that settled into his every nerve and muscle. He blearily opened his eyes and exhaled a low groan of pain, pushing himself to roll over onto his back. Against his typical better judgment, he exhaled a quiet "fuck" under his breath, the expletive carrying with it some of the tension from his limbs.

It was at this point that he noticed Dottore and the nearby agents scurrying to cater to the Harbinger’s demands, and instinctive apprehension triggered a jolt of adrenaline that sent him scrambling to get to his feet. Pain be damned, he refused to be in any kind of vulnerable position around the Second if he could help it. His fingers sought purchase on the wall nearest to him to keep himself upright, and he leaned against it, his breathing labored from pushing past the all-over ache to accomplish such a feat.

His scarlet gaze bore into Dottore, willing his mind and body to catch up with his perceived urgency of the situation. He couldn't afford to miss a word here and there, nor could he risk remaining oblivious to any subtle cues coming from either the Harbinger himself or his subordinates. He would treat this as a life or death confrontation, even if it weren't, for he was squarely within Dottore's own territory and largely lacked a means to defend himself.

If Dottore wanted him dead, there was likely a way for it to happen within a matter of seconds, before he could even begin to formulate another escape plan. ...Which, in immediate hindsight, begged the question—why was he still alive, not to mention unrestrained? In being aware of certain tendencies of the doctor, he would have half-expected to wake up strapped to some kind of examination table rather than encountering this scenario.

Obviously, that wasn't what had come to pass. If anything, in some ironic twist, it seemed as though he was currently being regarded as a guest. Slowly, like a cornered animal relenting because it can see it has no other choice, he began to relax just a little—enough to be willing to talk.

"You... Why are you acting as if you care?" He paused, clearing his throat and fighting down the urge to cough. Archons, his throat was dry, leaving him to wonder if it was some side effect of the electrocution or if he'd really been unconscious that long. Subconsciously, he used his free hand to draw his tattered cloak closer around him, though he allowed its hood to fall back. No point in trying to conceal his identity when Dottore already knew exactly who he was.

"I...do not require your pity or hospitality, so why treat me like your injured guest? How can I trust that you won't try to...poison or otherwise drug me with any food, drink, or treatment that you offer me?"

Between his current physical condition and the minimum amount of time he must have been within Haeresys by now, he was hardly in a position to actually deny anything offered, but it seemed prudent to make his suspicions known.

The past two weeks had been amongst many other things, evocative. Old names and identities had bubbled to the surface after years and decades left unspoken, new connections had been forged, and older ones discarded as dross. Times of UPHEAVAL were times of equal change and chance, and no amount of deep-seated pride would deter him from capitalizing on these newfound opportunities as they so generously appeared.

But even with all the uprising and commotion in Mondstadt, the bowels of Haeresys remained pristine and untouched, experiments puttering along as usual, automated tasks and schedules undisturbed. Such was the manner in which he pleased his guests, choreographing an act of showmanship to whet the appetites of the bourgeois and all their associated SYCOPHANTS, altogether devoid of moral rectitude and indifferentiable; to fill the gullets of the twisted and feeble-minded longing for a display of autocratic sadism.

Indeed, Dottore had the luxury of ensuring that there was always a segment present to ensure continued operations even in his absence. He personally regarded the combined operations with more an air of disdainful necessity than self-indulgent glee, lacking the fondness for the spectacle of gore that some of the younger and more quixotic of his segments seemed to wield; though it was worth saying that the veracity of such a claim could have rightfully been put to thorough interrogation when the point of his renown in perverse cruelty was raised.

Yet, when all was said and done, it had been the arrival of an ESTEEMED GUEST which had managed to inspire his personal attendance.

All in good time, and as it appeared - not a moment too soon. He gazed upon the limp and bedraggled form of said guest, the chaos of his short-lived escape drawn to a premature close and leaving the air abruptly stale - an engineered and deliberate pause like that conjured by an actor preparing to switch between scenes. But the peace would not last, already he seemed to be rousing, and so did Dottore's frown slowly twitch into a satisfied smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Ragnavindr. I do apologize on the behalf of my colleagues - it seems that they've neglected to attend and cater to your comforts. Let's ensure that we remedy that quickly."

"I'm terribly SORRY to have kept you waiting. Would you like some water? Some food?" A subtle inclination of his head was enough to send a few of the agents scurrying to fulfill the requests.

"Not to worry, we'll have those injuries tended to in just a moment."

#haereses #* || ic #* || diluc

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Text

Stutter Something Profound

A/N: Y’all wanted part 2, so you get part 2 with some sub!Din! It did get a little soft, I might add, but enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day from me to you! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only) - oral (m and f receiving, unprotected sex, etc...)

DOUSE THE LIGHTS (PART 1)

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Quiet down,” Din’s voice was sharp and biting as your brow furrowed and you turned to him with a look of confusion marring your features.

“I didn’t say a word,” you huffed in response as you turned your attention back to the little bean sitting across the cold, metallic floor from you. His favorite little ball was in his tiny hands as the two of you rolled it back and forth to each other. You’d been stuck in hyperspace for some time, and there really wasn’t much else to do. It was like the Mandalorian - Din, you reminded yourself - refused to have even a modicum of fun. He’d been even more quiet and stoic than normal recently.

Ever since -

“Yes, you did,” he turned his head sharply, surely almost breaking his neck as he turned to look at the two of you from the captain’s seat. You quirked a brow in question before gesturing between yourself and the small child. He huffed sharply through his nose, the sound a loud, bitter thing as it reverberated off the walls, “keep it down.”

“That’s what I thought we were doing,” you snapped back before rolling your eyes and turning back to your small compatriot. He cooed gently before smiling and taking the ball as you rolled it back to him. You couldn’t help but smile at the little one; he always had the best and most calming aura about him. Before you could stop yourself, under your breath you murmured, “maybe you just need to calm down a little.”

"Excuse me?" oh. You just knew there was a scowl on his face, those plush lips pulled in a frown. Maker, those lips, delicious and soft, has been all over your body, mapping and marking almost every single inch of skin. You'd been thinking about them ever since that night - his touch, his taste, his feel. All of it.

Nothing had been the same since.

And yet nothing had changed.

"You heard me, Din," it was the first time you'd used his name since that night. It was a challenge as much as a question. It was silent, almost dead silent, as he slowly rose to his full height. He presented an impressive sight, covered in gleaming beskar, as his chest rose and fell steadily. Slowly, ever so slowly, he stepped closer, each footfall loud and purposeful. Shit, shit, shit. You’d fucked up and this was it. You were always pushing and pushing and pushing, and you’d finally pushed enough. Maybe he’d reached his limit.

He came over to you and slowly crouched down, predatory in every way, reaching over and taking your chin in his gloved hand as you turned your face up to meet his own. You were left breathless as you stared back into the black T of his visor, wishing you could see the expression in his eyes, “are you telling me what to do?”

Part of you wanted to remain small and shrink away, but another part of you, this one was feeling particularly strong in the moment and there was no holding it down, “yes.”

“Uh huh honey,” he dragged his thumb across your bottom lip causing you to part them slightly, “you sure about that?”

“Y-yes,” your head was already spinning with all sorts of thoughts and fantasies. He dipped his finger slightly into your mouth and you had to resist the urge to suck on it. But then you remembered - you remembered what you had told him last time. As you laid in his arms and made a promise that you planned on making good on, “yes. I am, Din.”

“Hmmm,” it was a soft gentle growl as he released your chin and stepped back, standing up again. Your heart was fluttering wildly as he walked towards the ladder, to head down, “we’ll be on Sorgan soon. Keep him with you.”

You waited until he was gone and thoroughly disappeared before hanging your head and sighing shakily. Before you could get too caught up in your head, a small bit of laughter and gentle cooing captured your attention. You looked up and found your little friend grinning at you, his little teeth on display as he made grabby hands for the small metal ball.

“Of course, my sweet bean,” you smiled fondly at him, giving him what he wanted, “anything for you. At least one of my boys isn’t being a Mr. Grumpy Boots!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“This is Sorgan?” you asked softly as you held the little one in your arms, already falling behind Din as made it a point to stop and study your surroundings. It was a beautiful place, lush and green and teaming with the sounds of all sorts of animals in the distance. He made a small noncommittal sound without so much as looking back at you. You rolled your eyes at him before sticking out your tongue and blowing a quiet raspberry, causing the little one to giggle. It appeared that he still wasn’t over being grumpy, and you were sure that he was still sour over your little outburst.

You remained quiet as you followed after him, deciding that it was best not to push his buttons. Although you weren’t so concerned with the possibility of what he would do. You knew that he wasn’t going to abandon you in some remote part of the galaxy as you once had feared; no, perhaps he’d even give you another...punishment like he had previously.

But you weren’t sure he ever would mention again. You’d wanted to bring it up, desperately so, but you just...didn’t quite know how. The morning after you’d woken up a few times only to find yourself still wrapped up in his arms, resting your head on his chest as he snored lightly. When you’d gone to get up for the day at hand, he was long gone, already dressed and going about business as usual.

You'd tried not to be upset, not to let it get it to you...but kriff. It was a one time deal but Maker, you wished it weren't. But who were you to question and interrogate him on the matter? Besides the words that needed to be exchanged, or your little altercation earlier, he'd avoided you like the plague. It was even worse than being stranded in the most desolate desert in the outer rim.

"Keep up," he called over your shoulder as you realized you'd been caught up on your myriad of daydreams and fallen far behind. You huffed as you picked up the pace to keep up with his long strides, "we're almost there."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Almost there ended up being another half hour of trekking through the woods until you reached the small village that served as your destination. Part of you had been tempted to complain, but the other half was thrilled to be able to get out and stretch your legs and see something other than metallic walls or dirt and decay. The air was fresh and light, doing wonders for your spirit and lungs. The little one seemed to be enjoying everything as much as you were - his eyes were wide and curious and as he studied the new surroundings. At the sight of a few butterflies, he reached out to try and capture one, almost tumbling out of your arms at one point. Giggling, you slowed your pace and set him on the forest floor, letting him follow behind the two of you all while keeping a close eye on him.

Eventually, the sounds of life - children’s laughter, animals, and animated chatter met your ears and you found yourself in a picturesque, small village. You look at everything in awe as your green bean toddled over to the nearest group of children. Instinct took over and you moved over to grab him, but Din grabbed your arm and shook his head, as you frowned at him, “he’s fine. He knows them.”

“Okay,” you nodded, but nonetheless your guard was up. You were more protective over Din and the little one than anything else. If something happened to either one of them you didn’t know what you’d do. Din must have sensed your hesitation as he lightly put his hand on your arm and pulled you along with him. Nodding, you silently acquiesced to his request.

It was another short walk to the center of the town, where you spied a small group of people milling about, almost as if they were expecting them. Din gave them a nod, but kept you close at his side.

“Mandalorian,” a beautiful woman with long hair walked over to the two of you as Din held his hand out to her but you stepped slightly behind him. She had a kind face and eyes, and you could tell she meant no ill will, "you've returned."

"As I said I would," he insisted as he shook her hand. Turning her attention to you, she looked you up and down, observing you with intense scrutiny, and yet you did not feel afraid. Whatever had happened between the two of them, you could tell she was looking out for him.

Holding out your own hand, you steeled yourself as you offered it to her and gave a kind smile accompanied by your name.

"Omera," she had deemed you worthy of her name and seemingly her approval, "you're…"

"She's mine," he insisted sharply, causing both you and Omera to look at him in surprise. Inside, you were beaming and bursting with joy and pride at the surprising revelation. You weren't sure if it was purely situational or he had meant it as more - as what it was, but Maker - your face felt hot and knees weak.

"She's your…"

"Mine," he repeated simply with a curt nod and an air of finality. His hand found the small of your back as you raised your eyebrows at the woman in shock, practically glowing from inside.

"Very well Mandalorian," the woman turned on her heel and motioned for the two of you to follow, "we're pleased to see you and the little one again. You may stay as long as you'd like; let me show your quarters."

Hesitating for a moment, you watched as the two of them started to walk away, leaving you behind. All of this seemed so surreal - domestic, uncomplicated, and...free. It almost felt surreal and you were afraid it would all end up being a dream. Too good to be true - a taste of what your life could be. Maybe...maybe one.

"Sweet girl," perking up at the use of the almost sacred nickname you caught his gaze. Holding out his hand to you, it wasn't but a mere moment before you took it, nervously - tentatively - and let him pull you towards his body. And then softly, almost as if it was just the two of you and not a whole gaggle of people around you, Din leaned in, "keep up."

What was even going on anymore? Surely this had to be a dream...but then again the warmth of his hand in yours was tangibly real. This was actually happening.

»»————-　♡　————-««

"This is it, huh?" looking around the small cabin, you quickly decided that you liked it. It was quaint and cozy and warm - everything that the Crest wasn't. Definitely something you would appreciate for a week or two and definitely something you would miss as soon as you left. The little one had been busy with his old friends, and Omera had graciously offered to take him for the night. As much as you both loved him, it was nice to have a little bit of time to yourselves.

"Not to your liking, princess?" his hands were on his hips as he watched you closely. It was teasing - lilting and with a small tone of amusement. Shaking your head you turned to him and offered a small smile, "you'll be comfortable here. Better than the ship and it'll give you an opportunity to stretch your legs."

"I like it," you agreed, "its nice to slow down for a change. Who knew you had a heart and a brain after all, Din?"

"Very funny, brat," the way you tingled at his use of the word was enough to render you speechless. He paused for a moment, thoughtful and quiet, "I don’t hate you, you know."

"Huh?" your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden declaration and the doe eyed look on your face enough to make his own cheeks tinge with a pink flush. Once again he was eternally thankful for the beskar helmet. He slowly reached up and grabbed your chin between his fingers as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"I know I'm not always...the easiest to get along with," he all but whispered, "but I do appreciate you more than you know."

"Hmmm," your body was electric as his touch sent sparks down your spine, "I know, Din. I...fuck. I appreciate you too. I've been...thinking about you."

"Have you, naughty little thing?"

"Mhmm," you closed your eyes and keened into its touch, "ever since that night…"

"Then what do you want?" his voice was low - dangerous - as his hand tightened around your throat, squeezing ever so slightly. Your pupils were dilated, eyes practically black with lust as a small sound escaped your lips. How easy it would have been to give in and let him have his way with you, "tell me little brat. Use your words."

"You," it was almost a whimper as the heat pooled low in your belly and the delicious, tingling ache between your legs started. How easy that would be to let him use your for his (and your pleasure). Even within the thick haze of arousal, you reminded yourself of your promise.

He would be your good boy.

Almost out of nowhere, your hand was on his wrist, delicate compared to his large gloved one, and pulling him away from you.

"What are you-"

"I'm in charge, Din Djarin," you reminded him, a surge of confidence running through your blood as desire seeped into every fiber of your beating. Your heart was beating wildly as you anticipated his reaction, treading carefully to make sure you didn't overstep any boundaries, "I made a promise last time and I don't break promises."

He chuckled - a dark, delicious sound that sparked pure fire in your bones. Instead of a smart remark for once he...acquiesced.

"Tell me what you do want."

"Strip," you echoed his words from the last time you'd found yourself in this position, "and get on your knees."

"As you wish,” he pulled back and started to slowly peel off his gloves, his gaze trained on you the entire time. You felt like a shy maiden, rather than a woman about to make a grown man cry, as a flush rose up in your neck and face; but you didn’t shift your gaze away.

Din made a show of pulling off each piece of armor, bit by Beskar bit, in painfully slow manner. The cocky Mandalorian knew exactly what he was doing. As soon as he was left in his underclothes, you could see that his cock was already painfully hard and straining at his trousers. A sense of pride welled up in your chest as you realized you were the cause of it all. Keeping the helmet on for the moment, his large hands skimmed the hem of his shirt as you almost lost your patience and tore it off for him. Languidly, methodically, he left the shirt up and tugged it over his head, letting it fall with an unceremonious small sound to the floor.

He was beautiful - even more in the fading light of day than he had been in the dark. Tan, golden skin littered with freckles and scars came into view as your breath hitched in your throat. Maker. You bit your lip as he tilted his head to the side to gauge your reaction. Trying to play it cool, you motioned for him to continue his fingers trailed over the waistband of his pants. The dusting of dark hair that disappeared into his pants was enough to make your mouth water as you remembered the promise it held.

Din popped open the button and slowly unzipped his pants before tugging his pants down his legs and kicked them off along with his boots. Apparently you weren’t the only one getting impatient. Making a small, musing sound in the back of your throat you walked over to him, admiring his beauty - and his hard cock that was already leaking fat beads of pre-cum. Smirking, you trailed a hand down his warm skin, raking your nails over it as you pressed a few lazy kisses along his broad shoulders. You were almost positive that you could hear a small sigh leave his lips.

“You are beautiful, Din Djarin,” you murmured as you pressed featherlight kisses to his neck, noting that he swallowed thickly, “it’s a shame no one sees - but a privilege to have you at my mercy.”

Before letting him get a word in edgewise, you went over to the windows and made sure everything was tightly closed and curtains were drawn before turning off the bedside lamps. There was almost no light left in the small room, save for the candle near the door; just enough to get by but not enough to actually see anything. Flouncing back over to Din, his large, warm hands found purchase on your waist as you reached up and tentatively rested your hands on the side of his helmet.

“Do you trust me, Din?” you whispered, a far cry from how domineering you intended on being. His hands circled around your wrist as he offered you a soft nod. You lifted your hands up, along with his as you pulled off the beskar and gently set it down along with the rest of his armor.

When he was fully stripped, a sharp contrast to you being fully clothed, he immediately tried to crash his lips onto yours to kiss you; a hungry, feverish thing. You smirked against his lips before quickly pulling away and placing a finger on his lips and shaking your head, “no, no, no honey. Not yet.”

“Brat-”

“Hmmm,” your hands went to his shoulders as you pushed him down and onto his knees, “it seems to me like you’re the one not listening. Won’t you be a good boy, Din?”

Knowing what you wanted immediately, his hands went to your waist as he undid your pants and pushed them to the ground, helping you to step out of them. You knew normally he would have argued with you or something but today something was different; almost like you had him under some sort of spell.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as his hands ran up your thighs, stopping to paw at your bum and giving it a good squeeze, pulling a squeal of delight from your lips. He chuckled against your skin, placing kisses along your thighs and hips before working over to your mound. Running a finger through your already soaked folds, he gathered some of the your arousal before it in his mouth and sucking it clean, “like fucking candy.”

“Din,” it was a herculean task not to completely surrender control to him and have his face. He hummed in content as he nudged your legs further apart and you could feel his breath fanning against your warm, wet center. Carding a hand through his dark locks, you gently yanked his head away, “we don’t have to do this…”

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl,” he rasped as you nodded slowly, “I can handle it - whatever you want.”

His gentle reassurance was enough to get you back on your game as you brought his face to your core, where you were getting desperate for his touch, “eat it.”

Warm hands anchored themselves to your hips as he buried his face in between your thighs, licking up your soaked folds like a starving man. It was such an unexpected, pleasant rush that you almost lost your balance as you braced yourself against the wall. A small whimper escaped your lips as Din continued to lap at you, his aquiline nose nudged against your clit. For all the talents this man had, eating pussy was definitely one of them.

“Kriff,” it wasn’t long before your legs started to shake as the pleasure in your belly grew and grew and threatened to snap. He was not shy or soft spoken as he murmured filthy praises against your heat as he licked and suckled on your clit and folders before plunging his tongue into your velvety walls. He was quick to balance you as you almost staggered forward, “Din…”

“So good,” he praised as he reached up and added two thick fingers to his ministrations, curling them in a come hither motion as he quickly found your sweet - the one that made you see absolute stars. Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt nothing but warmth radiate throughout your body and pressed his face firmly against you. You felt the vibrations of his chuckle as he continued on, just a little further and harder until you were over the edge. A large hand had snaked up your body to cup and squeeze your breasts through your shirt as you keened into him.

This time you didn’t even bother to hold back your mewls and moan as you came all over his tongue and fingers. Making a sound of approval, he worked you through your orgasm until you were a shaking, whining mess above him. His name came off your tongue in reverence as he stabilized you and lapped up every last bit of your arousal.

“Maker,” you finally managed to catch your breath after a few minutes as you pulled out of his grasp and helped him to his feet. In the soft candlelight you could see your juices glistening on his face. Unable to stop yourself, you threw your arms around his neck and crashed your lips onto his, kissing him in a fervent tangle of tongue and teeth. He responded eagerly, taking his time to taste you and explore your mouth as your wicked hands roamed his body. Din almost choked on a moan as you grabbed his weeping cock in your hand, coating it in the reminder of your wetness. A smile grew on your face as you pulled back and looked at him innocently, “good boy, Din. It must be painful, huh? To be this hard and have no relief? Do you want me to make it better?”

“Mouth,” it was a soft whisper - a plea, “use your mouth.”

“Hmm,” you mused as you continued to stroke his length, noting how he seemed to thrust into your hand more with each passing second, “I don’t know if you’ve earned that yet.”

A mess of sounds, guttural and visceral, met your arms as you played with him before massaging his balls just to push him as far as he could go. It wasn’t only before you felt him twitch in your hand and could hear the struggle as he tried not to come in your hand.

“Sweet girl,” he stammered out as he closed his eyes in bliss; but you beat him to the punch and pulled your hand away, creating a painstaking distance between your bodies. He hissed at the loss of contact and his orgasm as you ripped your shirt and bra off, letting the offending articles join the heap of his clothing, “fuck!”

“I told you that you hadn’t earned it yet,” you reminded him with a saccharine smile, “only good boys get to cum.”

“I am going to-”

“Get on the bed and lie on your back,” you insisted sharply. He huffed sharply before marching over and getting on top of the plush blankets. Looking around for a moment, you knew exactly what you were searching for, hoping you hadn’t misplaced the crimson silk fabric. After a few moments of digging, you made a small noise of triumph as you found the object of your affection. Walking back over with a sway of your lips, you displayed the fabric to him, “hands up and behind your head.”

“What are you doing?” it was a tone of wonder and amusement as you raised an eyebrow and hoped he was able to see it.

“You’re not allowed to use your hands,” you grinned as you stole a kiss before grabbing his wrists in your hands, “no touching, Din. Not until I say so.”

The Mandalorian - your Mandalorian - grunted as you threaded the fabric through the headboard and secured his wrists. It wasn’t necessarily a strong, tight hold, but it was enough to get your point across. No touching. Din could have easily broken through the thin fabric, but he wasn’t going to try again - he was going to be a good boy.

"What are you going to do sweet girl?" he asked as you spread your legs on either side of his hips, your wetness brushing the soft curls of his pubic hair. Grinning almost sinfully, you grabbed his jaw and turned his face towards, only making out the highs and lows of his features. Leaning down you kissed him, chasing after his lips with your own.

"Have my way with you," you whispered as you kissed the shell of his ear before working along his jaw and neck, making it a point to nip and suck at the delicate skin. And then, as you reached the hollow of his throat and placed a chaste kiss there, he practically whimpered, "oh, my sweet boy."

Din tugged lightly on the restraints, enough to shake the headboard slightly, but not enough to do anything. Shimmying down his body you tenderly touched and kissed every part of his body making sure each little freckle and mark and scar were given attention. The man practically melted under your touch; no one had ever given him this type of love and attention before. In the past it had all been either sloppy blowjobs or quick fucks; it had never mattered about him or the other person before, the only end game was release. But this...this was different. Delicate, gentle - caring.

Kissing along the V of his abdomen before nosing along his soft pubic hair, your raked your nails up and down his legs.

"When's the last time someone loved you, Din Djarin?" it was a hushed whisper, one you really expected an answer to you, but Din had almost inhumanly adept hearing - perks of a lifetime as a bounty hunter.

"Never."

"Well I do," it was an easy confession that startled both of you. You had meant it as both a I'm going to love you just now and I'm in love with you all at once. But that was something to be delved further into another time, "I do very much."

Before he could say anything else, you licked a long stripe up his shaft. His reaction was immediate as he bucked his hips up causing you to just push them back down. Laughing lightly, you tutted at him before taking him in your mouth - as much as you anyway. He was big and it did take some effort to get as much of him as possible.

It wasn't long before he was writhing under you as you licked and sucked him to an inch of his life. Making a point to hollow your cheeks and be noisy, you played with balls as you pushed him closer and closer to his release. Your mouth was already costing with your spit and his salty pre-cum and his cock twitched in your mouth. Just before he came, you pulled off of him and say back on your haunches watching his chest rise and fall rapidly.

"I was almost-"

"I know," it was a sticky sweet answer as you ghosted a hand over his body. Your hand found its way around his throat as you squeezed; more intensity than he had applied to you, but not enough to hurt, "tell me, sweet boy, are you going to let me sit on your face?”

“Use me,” he insisted as you kissed your way up his body and stopped at his lips and captured them in a searing kiss. His were perfect against yours - soft, full, and plush. Before getting too lost in his kiss, you positioned yourself over his face, and his eager hands tried to reach for you, only to find out that he couldn’t. A small groan of frustration left his lips as you grinned and ran a hand through his dark curls, “sweet girl.”

“Use your mouth, Din,” you braced yourself on the headboard as you lowered yourself down to meet his mouth. If you had thought he was eager before, you were sorely mistaken. The man in question lapped at your freshly soaked folds like it was the last thing he would ever do. His nose was perfect against your sensitive bundle of nerves as his tongue delved into you and caused you to cry out in pleasure. Seeming satisfied with his work, you felt him grin against you, his beard tickled you in all the best ways, “fuck. So good - so, so good.”

“Sweet girl,” he murmured against your skin as you felt yourself melt into a puddle of jelly. His praise along with this ministrations was enough to have you seeing stars as you closed your eyes and felt that familiar coil start to snap in your belly. Rocking against his face, he picked up his pace until you were just about to cum again, but instead of letting your orgasm fully wash over you, you pulled back and moved off of your face, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shock your head before kissing him, tasting yourself on his tongue, “you’re perfect. Want to cum on all over your cock, Din. Feel you inside of me.”

“Please,” he was practically beginning at this point; he was harder than he ever been and needed to be inside of you, “come on, sweet girl.”

Swinging a leg over his hips, you grabbed his hard cock and pumped him a few times before lining himself up at your entrance. Slowly sinking down on him, the two of you moaned in unison, as he stretched you fully and completely.

“Din,” his name was but a soft, reverent whisper off your lips as you put your hands on his chest and started to bounce at a slow pace up and down his cock. He felt perfect inside of you, hitting all the right spots as your clit rubbed against his pubic hair. He thrust his hips up to meet each of your bounces, pulling harder and harder at the bindings. You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck as you pressed your chest against his and kissed every part of him that your lips found, “so close - sweet boy.”

“Me too,” he agreed, his voice crackling and rough, “gonna cum inside you.”

“Yes,” you breathed as your warms started to contract around him and you felt him twitch within you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you buried your face into his neck, whimpering against his skin, “Din.”

“Sweet girl,” he so desperately whispered he could wrap his arms around but instead kept his hips as close to yours as possible, “so good - so perfect.”

You all but collapsed in his arms as you laid on top of him, the two of you working to catch your breath. Once you came down from your high, you kissed his nose, and slowly moved to undo the bindings and free him from his confines. As soon as his arms and wrists were free, he wrapped his arms around you and traced his fingers up and down your back in soft patterns. Relaxing into his arms, you sighed contentedly, “you can be a good boy, Din.”

“Only for you,” he whispered softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, “I...I love you, sweet girl.”

“Yeah?” you asked as you rolled over and next to him. He hesitated for a moment but then slowly confirmed with a soft nod, “good. I...I love you, Din Djarin. I have for a while.”

“I never...would have thought,” he murmured as he pulled into you his arms without even thinking - so easy and effortless. You eagerly complied, letting him pull you tightly against his chest as you tangled your legs with his. You weren’t sure what this all meant, or would lead to, but it was definitely something you could get used to.

“Really?” you laughed lightly, a musical wonderful sound that he adored, even on his grumpiest days, as you took his hand and brought it to your lips, and placed a tender kiss to his knuckles. How he hadn’t known was beyond you - it all seemed so obvious. Din made a small sound, “I thought it was so obvious. It was to me at least, honey. Even when we’re at each other’s throats - it was with love. Besides, I like when you get mad. It’s sexy.”

“You’re such a brat - my brat,” he buried his face into the pillow, but not before pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “you’re amazing.”

“You’re just saying that because I finally let you cum,” you teased as you felt your eyes getting heavy, “worth it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a yawn, “but I’m getting you back for that next time. No hands? That’s just cruel.”

“Hmm,” you mused, “are we just going to keep taking turns? I could get used to that, Din.”

“I hope you do, sweet girl,” he murmured, “I hope you do.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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