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mooncleaver · 2 years ago

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My Queen, My Sun and My Sea

talokan once had a queen. one who loved her people with all her heart—with the same heart she had given to her k'uk'ulkan for what felt like millennia ago. but they lost her to the hands of the enemy; it was a tragic tale painted on the walls of the king's mural, the pain searing itself onto his heart uninvited. he rules now with a darkened hole in his chest, fueled by the loss of his true love and a force to protect his people even more. after all, only the most broken people can be great leaders.

pairing: namor x fem!talokan!reader

warnings: bpwf spoilers!! death (i was lowkey evil for that), colonizers, inaccurate translations, nawt very proofread lol

El Niño Sin Amor.

That was a name that echoed deep inside Shuri's head, its bitter aftertaste lingering still; a piece of Namor that she'd just uncovered.

He was an enigma; a powerful being who rose from the sea, unannounced with his presence but has always been there, deep in the waters where he and his kingdom have flourished in the city of Talokan. He had just finished recounting about his and his people's origins, how the colonizers brought a disease that left his ancestors to drink a concoction from a vibranium-infused plant found in an underwater cave to save themselves, turning them into water-breathing individuals; the Talokanil.

She turned to Namor with many questions unanswered, only to see him staring at something with a look akin to pain and longing on one of the surfaces on his murals, caressing the painting with a gentleness she had yet to seen from the god.

She shifted to the side quietly, trying to see what he was gazing at. When Namor bowed his head, Shuri saw a painting of a woman beside his serpent, posing regally with what looked like a staff in her hand.

She wore a beautiful jade and gold headpiece, green and brown feathers lining the outer layer, fading in its design as if the light was shining on them. It towered atop her figure, framing her perfectly like she was always meant to be there. She was adorned in jewelry, from the large, circular green jade plugs that hung from her ears to the tessellated necklace that she wore—a striking amalgamation of gleaming silver beads, plated viridescent tiles to carved gold pendants and everything that complemented her beauty. The woman had a tan clothe wrapped around her body, washes of terracotta and hues of sage and cream woven in stripes on the fabric. She was covered in jewels—just like Namor.

One thing for sure, she must have been of royalty in Talokan. Or a goddess, perhaps. The corks in Shuri's head turned as she tried to figure out where the woman in the mural fit in Namor's story.

"Who is that?" Her question seemed to break him out of his reverie. She could see the way his body tensed at her question, and whether it was because she cut him out of his thoughts of because of what she asked, she didn't know.

It took a quiet moment before Namor answered, looking in deep contemplation with his eyebrows furrowed deeply and his eyes growing darker. The next thing he uttered was so full of emotion that it flooded through the sentence, his voice sounding thicker than blood.

"Leti' ka'ach in reina. My queen. In k'iino' ka, in k'áak'náabo'."

(She was my queen. My sun and my sea.)

For a second her words refused to make it out of her mouth. The Wakandan princess' mind didn't wonder to Namor having a queen.

The Namor now wasn't like the Namor she had met in the shores of her land with her mother. The Namor now felt like a broken man who would go the farthest lengths to protect his people. With every counting second of being in this underwater cave, Shuri seemed to discover more and more about the man, slowly laying bare the walls he had built around himself.

"Is she-"

"She was.. she was killed by surface dwellers." The god cut off, as if he couldn't bear to hear the words coming out from someone else's lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and Shuri felt the sea grow quiet for a split second. It was like it remembered their lost queen.

He took a deep breathe before speaking out and if one were to listen closely, they could hear the slight shakiness in his voice, like talking about this particular incident tore his wounds open again. "Years ago the surface dwellers tried to find Talokan. They were told of an underwater city filled with glittering gold and diamonds, with a palace of precious metals whose value exceeds all else."

"They are greedy, always taking and taking what is not theirs—beasts who ravage land with no mind of its consequences. She was there where the land met the waters along with the young ones, and those monsters crossed paths with them." Namor shook his head, disdain present in the way he moved his body and his words.

"The first thing they did they raised their weapons, pointing it at her when all she did was offer them her hands. She tried to speak to them, to negotiate with peace and kindness. But they are blinded with hatred." He spat that word out and Shuri almost flinched at his tone.

"With no mercy they killed her and the children. They took their lives as if it was nothing to them."

"When I emerged to the surface.. she was already dying."

One of your handmaids had been the one to inform him of the situation, barging into his mural room right when he got back from a trip with a growing panic in her eyes as she screamed in anguish, 'Le reina! Le reina!'

"I turned to those murderers and treated them with how they treated my wife and the children; I killed them with no mercy."

The feathered serpent god will never forget the possessing rage he felt when he saw what those killers did to his wife. Without a single doubt in his movements he flew towards them like a strike of lightning and sliced their heads off before they could even scream.

Something that would always haunt his dreams was seeing his beloved die in his arms, unable to do anything, running out of time.

Sometimes, if the K'uk'ulkan thought too much about it, he could still feel the way he held you in his arms, the jarring coldness of your body that surged across his skin like a bloodthirsty frostbite.

Your hair fell in a pool beneath your head, encrusted with blood that he didn't know where it came from. There was too much, too much of it that slithered around your body. With trembling hands he supported the back of your neck, bringing your face closer as he cradled your cheeks in his palms.

"Ma', ma', in puksi'ik'al.. jaap wicho'ob, láayli' ma' jach a súutuko'," he pleaded, heart racing a thousand beats at your weakened state. His fingers stroked your temples, tracing the skin from your eyebrows to the high point of your cheek and you swore you would forever savor the feel of his skin on yours.

(No, no, my heart.. open your eyes, it's not your time yet,)

"It's al-..right, in amado." You choked out, holding the hand that held your face and leaning onto his palms with whatever energy you had left in you. It was getting harder to open your eyes or even speak, the hole in your chest rampaging your body like an unquenched beast.

"In ku. Let go, K'ukulkan. Ts'o'ok in meentik le ba'ax táan des-.. destinado in beetik waye'.. je'el u páajtal in je'elel bejla'e'.."

(They call me. I've done what I was meant to do here.. I can rest now..)

He ignored your terrifying acceptance and gently quieted you, pressing his lips onto your forehead in deep fervor. "Save you words, in yaakunaj-"

Namor's heart threatened to jump right out of his chest when he felt your hand go slightly limp, desperately taking it above the crook of his neck, right where the ends of his jaw met his ears. The king held onto you so tightly, trying to keep you grounded with him in the world of the living as if the warmth of his body would spread life to your decaying one. He saw you smile peacefully, like his touch rejuvenated you for a single beat, slowly yet surely stroking the tip of his pointed ears as you've always done whenever you had the chance to. It was a small act of affection that Namor fell weak to, and he couldn't contain the abrupt cry that fell from his lips at the familiar gesture.

"K'a'as a puksi'ik'al yéetel a-.. a yaakunaj, in ajawo'," but even then your stubborn and insistent nature persevered. You spoke with only him and your love for him in mind, silently telling him that this will not be the end. That despite after all this when you will no longer be there to tell him just how beloved and brave he is, he should still remember what he had learned—what he had taught you. You hoped that it would keep him grounded and true, still fierce but with compassion and empathy.

(Remember your heart and your love, my king,)

"In.. yaakunech," and you let our your final breathe, the light in your eyes no longer shining as you stared up into nothing. At the least you looked content to pass to the afterlife in your husbands arms, a gentle lift on the corner of your lips to signify that you've moved on. But along with your departure you tore apart of Namor that he didn't think could ever be replaced—left him with a half-ripped heart and as a shell of the man he once was.

(I love you)

Now, kneeling on the prickling pearly sand tainted with weeping carmine, he was not a god. He was not the king of a powerful underwater nation, he was not a lethal mutant, a hero, a villain, or a protector. No, he was just a man. A man whose heart had been punctured with a hole in the shape of his beloved.

He screamed at the world with the voice of someone who had just lost everything, scorning the surface dwellers with a burning pit of anger and vengeance in his blackened heart. It echoed around the area, bleeding onto every rock, every blade of grass and every tree with his promise of death. The sea grew restless, mirroring the raging currents in his soul.

Namor choked a cry, closing your eyes as his hands shook with grief and pain, body threatening to collapse under his heartbreak. He brought your face closer to his, resting his forehead against yours while he scrunched his eyes closed, disbelieving and mourning of the loss of his beloved. Because no matter how much he begged, how much he cried for you, you would never come back to him, never blessing him with that delicate smile on your face again. The god stayed there for what felt like hours and days, whispering sweet goodbyes, harrowing sobs and promises to avenge you.

When he carried your cold body to Talokan, the people could only stare in shock and despair over the loss of their darling queen. In their eyes you were one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, not just because of your position, but because of your compassion and your love—something that knew no bounds.

It was a painful and gut-wrenching experience, to bury his own wife. It brought him back to the time where he had to do the same to his own mother, to cover her in clothe and put a piece of maize inside her mouth.

"The surface dwellers have taken so much. Talokan's queen, our home and our freedom. I will not let them do so again." Namor had a scathing look in his eyes, a latent tone of tiredness from facing a world that only took from him.

"She must have been an amazing queen and a strong woman." Shuri could only utter these words with a solemn expression on her face, unable to reply to such vulnerability of someone she had considered a dangerous enemy. Despite that.. there was an underlying empathy between the two. Shuri understood him. She knew the pain of losing someone you love.

"She was." A calm visage eventually spread around his face as he looked up at the glorious mural depicted on the walls of the room. "She had the biggest heart and the kindest soul."

Namor couldn't help but get lost in his memories of his beautiful wife. He speaks no lies when he describes you. You were the people's queen, as what the Talokanil called you. You'd always visit the people, play games with the children and scour the underwater markets that sold all kinds of trinkets and foods. Whenever the people needed you you were always there, willing to help them without a second glance as you opened your heart to them all.

After you death, whenever he would swim around Talokan and talk to his people—laughing and joking around with them—there would be this.. serene melody inside his heart, a gentleness that ran through his veins. Namor would feel the water pulsing on the pads of his skin and he'd always take a moment to close his eyes to relish the feeling. Then a smile would make it onto his face—the kind of smile that you would always tell him to show more often. His people felt it too, like a warm embrace to their soul, as if you were watching over them, still caring about them even when you were gone.

It was not only to Talokan's people, but to the ocean's animals too.

If there was one thing about his queen, it was that you had a deep affinity with the marine animals. Whenever the king couldn't find you anywhere in your room or in the palace halls, Namor would only smile to himself and swim to the clearing of the sea just outside of Talokan, watching his wife croon along the whales and the orcas, taking care of them as if your love spoke a thousand languages.

"In ch'ujuk, ko'oten paakat!" You would shout, gleefully waving your hand up in the air with no care in the world.

(My sweet, come and look!)

Sometimes he would only stay back and watch you with eyes so tender that it looked like he was entirely captivated by you. By your voice, your laughter, your smile; your everything. Other times, Namor would be too taken by you (as he always was), deciding to join you play with the creatures that you'd called 'your babies'. Whirling and chasing them around them felt like dancing in the water and Namor was too in love to ever deny you of your little joy.

Even now whenever the whales would call out to the sea, or when the orcas whistled and clicked along, he could still hear your radiant laughter singing along with them and oh how he longed to hear that sound again, to hear the melody of the ocean in its fullness.

You were simply the glue to Talokan; everyone adored the queen.

Until now, your throne still sat next to his, the jade and vibranium never ceasing to glow. Every time he sat there, watching over his people and celebrating his kingdom with defiant shouts of "L'ik'ik Talokan" he would always remember your face, remember the proud look you had when you would raise your fist to your chest along with everyone. Your memory will never fade in the heart of Talokan, always lingering in the brightest places, comforting during troubling times, because you will always be a precious piece of the kingdom that neither he nor his people would forget.

If he brought the sun to his people, you were the sun to him.

"You and I, we are not so different, princess." He broke his train of thought.

"Those people only see us as threats because they know we are powerful. They will not stop until they have what they want. It is a danger to my kingdom and my people—a threat to your people too."

Finally, Namor turned his head to face Shuri, a determined aura lingering in his voice and in his expression. She felt compelled to stare back straight into his eyes, the conviction in his tone like a true king. "And so I offer you again."

"Join me, and we will never have to see our people suffer, to see our loved ones suffer. We will no longer mourn our losses and bury the dead for unjust cruelty."

"Together, we will watch the world burn."

lawd this man singlehandedly got me out of a writing slump like.. making a fic with angst + namor = too easy 😩💳💥

this is my first time writing for him, so i hope it was okay! im so in love with him and i wanted to contribute my own piece to the fandom.

also, i'm pretty sure the yucatec mayan was not properly translated, so i apologize from my heart for the inaccuracies. please tell me if i have to fix anything!

dividers by @delishlydelightfuldividers and @rpinkling

tags: @bloatedandlonly

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luvrodite · 1 year ago

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OCTOBER 28: IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU BABY (NO ONE ELSE IN THIS WORLD CAN) JASON TODD (3.3K)

kinktober prompt: overstimulation | kinktober masterlist

synopsis. jason doesn't seem to understand just how attractive he is, so it falls to you to make sure he knows who he belongs to.

cw: f!reader, edging, overstimulation, oral sex (m! receiving), piv sex, public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!reader, minor begging, switchy jason, possessive reader minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact you will be blocked

You leave Jason’s side for one brief moment–the host of the party comes up to where you’re standing in the kitchen, asking for a favour as more and more people start arriving and you excuse yourself from his arms with a playful wink.

“We need to go on a drinks run,” she lets you know, running a hand through her hair, and you giggle when it moves away from her shoulder, exposing the spot on her neck to you. She grins, her gaze cutting across the room to find the perpetrator, a tall, brown skinned boy who, judging by the way he’s looking at her, is eagerly waiting for her to return to him. “Can you move your car for a sec? Sorry, I didn’t think I’d need to use the car tonight.”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head. “Oh! Yeah, no, of course.”

It’s easy enough to pull out of the driveway, Jason’s keys still in your purse from where he’d slipped them earlier but finding a spot on the crowded suburban street is difficult, and by the time you return to the house, you’re impatient to get back to Jason’s side.

It had taken a monumental effort on your part to even get him here, tonight, after the week the both of you had had, and you weren’t sure he’d be pleased at being left alone for too long. He’d only started to loosen up a little when you’d been called away, eyes slipping into a half lidded gaze that warmed you right down to your toes, hands possessively skimming the too tiny skirt you’d zipped yourself into.

A low bass reverberates through the walls when you enter, thumping loud enough that you feel it as you make your way across the floor, crawling up from the ground and settling in your veins. All around you, bodies are bathed in a soft blue and purple glow, glitter refracting off exposed collars and arms. Your own wrists twinkle with the residue as you bump into girls who giggle out drunken apologies, and you can’t help but smile.

Still, you weave your way through the packed first floor to the back of the house, where the crowd thins and tapers off. Only a few people mill about in the kitchen, and surprisingly, your boyfriend isn’t one of them.

You stop short in the entrance to the kitchen, sweeping across the space to make sure you haven’t missed him, but sure enough, not a single one bears any resemblance to your six foot something man.

“I think he went to the bathroom!” one of the guys nearby says, who’d been talking to Jason when you’d last seen him, and you shoot him a grateful smile before spinning on your heel.

You go no further than the foyer, about to climb the staircase, when your gaze pulls back into the living room and–

There he is. Standing at the far edge of the room, pouring himself a drink, bathed in bright violet and indigo, is Jason. You admire the lines of his face, lips shiny from the drink in his hands and catching the light.

As though tugged forward by some invisible thread, your feet propel forward of their own conviction, and you’re pushing through the throng again, swallowed by the sea of bodies but your gaze remains on the man ahead.

Even beneath the jacket he dons, the white t-shirt is tight around his chest and you stare shamelessly, flames sparking low in the pit of your stomach when you catch a glimpse of the chain around his neck, silver glittering low in the light as he shifts, tucked into the collar where its pendant remains unseen.

You reach the edges of the crowd and your steps slow as you approach him, blood icing over when you take in the girl he’s talking to. Reaching out, you murmur his name.

It mollifies you that he hears you immediately, head snapping your way and eyes lighting in quiet pleasure.

“Sweetheart.” He curls an arm around your waist unthinkingly and you settle into his side, offering the girl–still unnamed–a quick smile. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry,” you reply, peering into the cup in his hand. “Had to move the car, and it took forever to find somewhere to park. What’s in this?”

“Just juice–that was mine,” he chides, when you finish the rest of it off. “Nice, baby. Really nice.”

“You’re not drinking tonight?”

It takes you a moment to realise the question is addressed to you, Jason’s companion looking at you expectantly and you startle, jumping to answer.

“Sorry, yeah, I’ve got something tomorrow, so…” you hold the cup up by way of explanation, and she nods, face breaking out into an understanding grin.

She’s pretty, with sleek dark hair and eyes that are curtained by a set of thick, full lashes. You feel a little silly, when she smiles at you so nicely, for acting so childishly. She doesn’t seem to have noticed your little pout, though, or if she has she doesn’t let on, tucking a lock of hair behind her hair and introducing herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” she says, and you shake your head in agreement, giving her your name. Her eyes cut back and forth between you and Jason, and then she’s stepping back a little, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ve gotta get going, but I’ll probably see you guys around.”

“See you,” you echo and behind you Jason mutters the same sentiment, his chin brushing the top of your head.

You wait until she’s out of sight before turning in his arms, hand coming up to slip under the neck of his top. Immediately he begins to squirm, sputtering protests laced with incredulous laughter. “Sweetheart–what are you–”

Your fingers hook under the chain of his necklace, and tug it out until it lays over his shirt, pendant settling against the white material, the blunt silver of your initial hanging over his heart. Only then do you let go.

When you go to turn back around, he catches your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours for a moment before his mouth breaks out into the most cocky grin you’ve ever seen, dripping with barely contained arrogance. You know then that you’ve been caught out but you simply raise a brow, keeping your face impassive as best as you can.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he lilts playfully, voice dropping as he bends his head closer, “is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine, Jason,” you say coolly and if possible, his smirk only widens.

“You sure, baby?” he prods innocently, tilting his head, puppy-like and mockingly naive. Red skims across his jaw, a slash of light that highlights just how sharp his features are, pretty and inviting.

“I’m sure.” Flatly voiced, it’s a poor assurance and you both know it. You stare up at him for a moment before announcing, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

His brow quirks at the turn of subject but he bobs his head, setting down his empty cup on the sideboard. “Okay, let’s go.”

You turn on your heel and make your way to the stairs. Jason’s hands remain at your waist, close behind as he follows you through the crowd and up the steps. Most of the party is downstairs, and it grows quieter–only marginally–as you climb to the second floor. The music is muddied through the floorboards, pulsing beneath your shoes with every step.

You leave the door open behind you and moved further into the space. When it clicks shut, you know that Jason has followed you in. Good, you think, and lean over the sink to peer into the mirror.

For a few beats, there is only silence, words unspoken over the muffled pounding of the music below. You fiddle with your outfit, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt and wiping the corner of your mouth where the lipstick you’d applied has begun to smudge. In the corner of your eye, Jason leans against the door and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you.

You turn to face him, resting against the sink. He straightens under your gaze.

“Do you get off,” you say steadily, voice low, “on provoking me?”

“Provoking you?”

You push off the sink, taking slow steps towards him. Your shoes click against the floor, and downstairs the music shifts to something more upbeat. You watch Jason’s eyes lazily drag down your figure, his throat jumping when you close the small distance between the both of you.

You reach up, hooking your index finger under the chain around his neck. The letter rests against the pad of your finger, the accompanying birthstone twinkling with the movement.

“It’s funny,” you muse, your tone anything but amused. “You wear this, but it really feels like you don’t know who you belong to. Guess I’m gonna have to show you. Is that what you want?”

When he doesn’t speak, you tug on the chain and he jerks forward, lashes fluttering and pupils expanding as he stares down at you. In one breath, his teal irises are swallowed by onyx pools, lips parting in want.

“Yeah,” he rasps out. “Yeah, that’s what I want.”

You shake your head before pulling him down and slotting your mouth to his. He tastes sweet, the juice lingering on his tongue. Hands wrap around your waist and you press closer, feeling the heat of his chest against yours. The leather of his jacket squeaks with the strain of his arms and you can’t help but smile into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of his mouth.

“Lock the door,” you murmur into his mouth, willing your voice to remain steady but it comes out a little breathless. He huffs out a laugh but reaches behind him nonetheless, twisting the lock with a click that echoes slightly in the tiled bathroom.

You twist away slightly, redirecting your attention to his jaw and grazing your teeth along the skin there. He shivers, head dropping against the wooden door and providing you better access. Control steadily unravelling, you surge forward to mouth at his neck. He squirms, pitiful little exhales bordering on whines as you lave at the skin, pulling it with your teeth and soothing it over with your tongue.

“Ah–sweetheart, I–” he stumbles over his words, hands gripping the fabric of your skirt tightly. It bunches up in his fists, and you feel the glide of it as it rides up your thighs.

Pulling back to survey your work, you grin up at him with spit slicked lips before swatting his hands away and sinking to your knees. Nosing at his thigh, you fumble with the clasp of his belt and undo his jeans hastily, tugging his pants and boxers down in one pull. One of your hands come up to push the hem of his white shirt upwards in silent direction, and obediently he bites the fabric. Unobstructed, his cock presses against his stomach and your smile feels filthy as you shuffle forward.

The tiles beneath your knees are cold and unforgiving, but you ignore them as you take him into your mouth. Above you, there’s a muffle whimper as you suckle on the head, drool gathering on your tongue as you close your lips around him messily. The pearl of spend settles on your tongue, salty and slightly bitter, and you relax your jaw to take more of him in. The muscles in his stomach contract and you hum, directing your eyes upward.

Jason stares down at you through lowered eyelids, lashes casting swooping shadows on his cheeks, breathing ragged. A flush settles over his face, a pink tint painted over his nose and cheeks that ruins any semblance of composure–he groans, eyes squeezing shut and straining open to gaze at you. His hand comes to settle on your cheek, cradling your head with trembling fingers.

Your own hands part ways, one reaching to his mouth and the other sneaking beneath your parted thighs. Jason spits into your palm, shirt falling back down and you close your fingers around the rest of his cock, squeezing the length your mouth doesn’t take in. He takes the dampened fabric into his free hand, balling the hem against his chest.

“Shit, jus’ like that,” he gasps, fingers against your cheek pressing into the flesh and you hum, bobbing your head.

Between your legs, your underwear has grown slick, thin and flimsy and not meant for much more than pleasing the eye. You tug them to the side, immediately greeted by wet strings that coat your fingers. Your legs ache as you shift, pressing circles into your most sensitive parts as you sloppily mouth at Jason’s cock.

You can barely hear the party over the sound of your heartbeat, thundering in your ears, but a garbled noise reaches you. Jason chokes on a breath, head tipping back and stomach tightening visibly as he approaches his peak. With an amused hum, you pull your mouth off him, hand splaying across his thigh as his orgasm is cut off abruptly.

He looks down at you, brows pinching confusedly.

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” you coo. You shake your head, tutting. “What kind of a lesson would that be, baby.”

Your fingers continue to move beneath your skirt and a noise gets caught in your throat. Jazon zeroes in on it, eyes cutting to your legs and groaning.

“Not fair,” he grumbles and you lean against his thigh, cheek pressing against the soft flesh.

“Mm…no I think this is pretty fair,” you murmur, kissing the skin. “I wasn’t the one chatting up some other girl.”

“Wasn’t chatting her up,” he denies, and you shift up again, reaching for his cock. Mouth softly at the head, you swipe your thumb across the slit and watch him shudder.

“No?” you question. He shakes his head.

“Was just talkin’.”

“So I should let you come, huh?” you mumble, taking him into your mouth once more and his hips stutter forward when you suck a little harder.

“Fuck,” he grouses, breath hitching. “Sweetheart–please.”

You smile as best as you can with the weight of him pressing on your tongue, but don’t answer. Your legs have begun to tremble with the strain of supporting your body, knees aching terribly against the tile, but you take pleasure in watching Jason turn desperate.

For a little while longer, you continue your ministrations to the sound of Jason’s breathless whispers above you–

“Just like that–fuck, you’re so good–”

One, drawn out, “Ugh, sweetheart.”

You rock your hips against your fingers, your own whimpers muffled and vibrating against his cock. His breaths steadily grow shallower, movements jerky under your mouth and hands until he’s loudly gasping, teetering on the edge of release. Immediately, your lips pop off him, hand falling to your side and he kicks his head back into the door, face crumpling.

You raise on shaky knees, taking the hand he offers you to lean against him for a moment before you pull him with you to the counter, slipping onto the marble. Jason steps between your legs, pushing you against the mirror and you feel a few items clatter to the floor, the sound of hard plastic against tile echoing. You’re uncaring, slipping your fingers into his mouth and using the other hand to guide his along your hips.

Wordlessly, Jason tugs the hem of your skirt up, tongue soft and wet around your fingers. When you pull them from his mouth, he gives you a dippy grin, swooping down to kiss you messily.

“You think you deserve to cum?” you murmur into his mouth, and he hisses.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he presses, pleading. “Need it so bad.”

You reach between the both of you, circling your hand around his cock once more before guiding him to your entrance, head catching against your clit for a moment and sending a shudder through the both of you before it slips in. Jason sighs, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, angling your mouth to his ear.

“Prove it to me,” you say lowly, “that you deserve it.”

Like a switch has been flipped, he thrusts forward, setting a dizzying pace that makes it difficult for you to stay quiet. Sweat crowds at your temples as he stretches you out and fucks you, hips slapping against yours.

Downstairs, the party rages on and you’re grateful for the noise when it becomes too hard to hide the whimpers Jason pulls from you, teeth digging into your bottom lip in a weak effort to muffle the cries that slip loose when he angles his hips just so, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Your toes curl in your shoes, legs hitched up around his waist.

“‘S not enough is it,” you find yourself gasping, fingers digging into his back through his shirt. “Gotta–fuck–gotta mark you up so everybody knows you’re–oh–taken!”

“So. Fuckin’. Jealous.” Jason times his thrusts with each word, sending you arching off the counter.

“You knew that when you d-decided to date me,” you grit, a few tears slipping from your eyes when you close them. “Knew that when you put that necklace on.”

He grins, a wild thing in the flickering bathroom light, almost feral as he drags his teeth down the side of your neck. “Mm…got me there,” he mumbles into your skin.

You catch his hair in your hand, pulling him away to look at you.

“Tell me who you belong to,” you say raggedly, “and I’ll let you come.”

His hips stutter and he slots his mouth against yours, the words coming in a rush. “Yours, baby, ‘m all yours,” he gasps. The slick sounds of your sex are loud in the bathroom, Jason’s fingers reaching between the both of you to circle your clit in time with his thrusts.

You kiss him back, feeling your own thread rapidly unravel with every slap of his hips, growing sloppier as he becomes more desperate. Spit smears across your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth greedily.

“Come for me, then.”

Jason manages to hold off until you break, sloppily fucking into you until you come with a broken moan, fingernails digging into his shoulder and likely ruining his shirt. He pulls out just as he finishes, coming all over your bare thighs, a wounded sound broken off in his throat.

You stare dazedly at the streams of white as you come down from your high, cum slipping down your legs slowly while you regain your breath. When you look up, Jason looks just as disheveled, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled from both your hands and his. The bruises on his neck have begun to bloom already, dark marks of purple that litter his skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs when he catches you eyeing them, reaching for some toilet paper. You sit on the counter and let him wipe you down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Getting jealous over some random girl.”

“If I can’t have you…” you trail off in a hum and he rolls his eyes, swooping down to kiss you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m yours, you freak,” he reminds you, and then catching sight of his reflection in the mirror behind you, he grimaces. He begins to complain, “Fuck, sweetheart, how the fuck ‘m I supposed to get out of here looking like this…look like I got mauled.”

You can only offer an innocent smile when he tugs a hand through his hair.

“You know I’m totally gonna get you back for this, right?”

Tugging down your skirt and fixing your top, you head for the door to unlock it. You look over your shoulder, halfway across the threshold.

“Kind of counting on it, handsome.”

The last thing you see before you slip outside is his slackened jaw.

this is so unedited because i was in a rush and i refuse to go through grammarly or any ai to check it. i'm sorry if there are any spelling errors etc i will hopefully come back to fix them but for now!! here is the 4th and second to last installment of kinktober!!!!

#mangacap by stepghost #mdni banner by benkeibear #ro's kinktober '23 #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x reader smut #jasonsmirrorball #jay my heart #kinktober 2023

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the-kr8tor · 9 months ago

Text

Batten Down the Hatches

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, TW panic attack, CW Injury, CW food mentions.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 6 >>> CHAPTER 7

With Pavitr’s arm slung over your shoulder and James handing you a glass that smells incredibly strong, your heart has never felt this content in years. You laugh as Yuri wins an arm wrestle round for the third time that day. Everyone cheers, Yuri flexes with a rare wide smile.

It's been a few hours since your daring jump, you can still feel Hobie's hands on yours and the crew clasping your shoulders happily once they finally lifted you up. With their warm welcome and after the whole debacle, Hobie insisted that there should be a celebration for a mission accomplished.

“Someone rum me up!” she yells and you immediately give her your untouched glass. “Oh hell yeah, thank you, wifey!” Yuri winks, already drunk.

“I'm not your wife, Yuri!” You happily yell above the noise.

She gasps dramatically, “oh you wound me!” You shake your head with a smile.

“Yeah, Yuri, she's already taken!” Pav pipes up from your side, shaking your shoulders.

You clasp your hand over his chattering mouth, the crowd guffaws, asking you numerous questions.

“Oi! Who's got you all smitten then?” Two fingers asks.

“Oh look at her smile!” Ned joins in with the teasing.

“Alright, who do I have to fight for your hand?” Yuri has her hands on her hips, a teasing smile on her painted lips.

“No one! Pav's being a little shit!” you wrangle Pav while he tries to wiggle out.

He manages to get out, acting like he's deprived of air. “Isn't it obvious, it's the ca–”

Finn huffs loudly, his large frame casting a shadow over the small table. You sigh, relieved that Finn unintentionally saved you from all the teasing.

Yuri looks him up and down, the alcohol in her veins inflates her ego. With a smug smile on her lips, she sits back down on the stool, laying her elbow down on the table, flexing her hand towards Finn, challenging him for a match.

Everyone quiets down, flicking their eyes between the two.

You never thought you'd see the day, Finn grins, sitting across Yuri. With a loud thump, he copies his opponent’s movement, his large hand dwarfing Yuri's.

A loud cheer erupts, overflowing cups sloshing out, some even jump for joy. You blame the alcohol.

Pav leaves your side, going around to collect bets. The crew coughs up coins, you watch, beaming, nodding along to the light strumming of Ned's well loved guitar.

Backing away from the crowd, you leave everyone to get some air. The throbbing ache in your ankle protests so you lean on the ship's bannister, watching the vast sea waving to you. The afternoon sun bearing down, its warmth a welcome one from the cool sea breeze.

A steaming cup suddenly appears, balancing on the wooden railing. A lithe hand pushes it towards you wordlessly.

“Another olive branch?” You tease, side eyeing Hobie.

“No, I figured you'd want something to drink when you didn't drink the rum.” With his back against the bannister, elbows propped over it, he leans casually, face upwards, basking in the sun. His silver piercings glint in the light, a familiar pendant around his neck.

“Were you watching me? You stalker” taking the cup, you raise it to your smiling lips. Turmeric, you surmise based on the taste. You let the herbal tea soothe your aching ankle.

“I was watching my crew.” Hobie faces you, muscles relaxed, content. “How's the injury?”

“Getting better,” you twist your foot around, testing the pain. There's a dull ache now, the ice from Nellie's helped. “How'd you know about turmeric?” looking at him, you watch as his smile turns into a grin.

“‘m full of surprises I guess.” he throws your own words at you.

You roll your eyes, “You're insufferable, captain.”

“And I, you.” His eyes are soft. Before you know it, Hobie's already walking away.

The roaring laughter gets your attention. Yuri stands on the rickety table, arms up in glee with a look that screams ‘I'm a winner!’ Meanwhile, Finn is standing next to her, visibly worried, holding onto a very drunk Yuri who keeps riling up the crowd with her triumphant yells.

You guess the rum has special properties if Yuri can beat the large Finn at his own game.

The crew parts for Hobie, you'd think he would put a stop to Yuri's rambunctious celebration. Instead, he hops up on the wobbly table, sharing the already small space with Yuri who guffaws loudly, clapping rhythmically.

“Scoundrels!” She yells at the top of her lungs, the crew cheers, matching her energy.

Gwen sidles up next to you wordlessly, shoving you lightly. Giving her a smile, you watch the carriage wreck in front of you.

“May I introduce, Hobie motherfuckin’ Brown!” Yuri drops backwards, making you flinch towards her general direction. Good thing Finn's got her in his strong arms.

Yep, she's properly drunk off her ass.

Hobie takes a glass from someone, raising it up, the crew quiets down. A hush fills the ship, the sound of wood rocking against waves can only be heard above the silence.

“Rapscallions” They urge him on. “ne'er-do-wells!” The cheering gets louder. “Fuckin’ rascals!” He paused, the yells are ear drum bursting. “We finally got the king's swine!” You hear glasses breaking.

Hobie continues, quieting down the entire ship with one clear of his throat. “With the papers we have we finally know where the son of a bitch is sailing to.” His voice shakes from sheer anger and determination. “This time we get the upper hand.” His men hoot and cheer. “We will fight until we get our hands on the bastard that cut half of our crew. This time we get our bloody revenge!”

He downs the entire glass of rum in one drink, swallowing it like water. Meanwhile the rest of the crew follow his lead, gulping their own drinks fervently.

The cheering got so loud your ears started ringing.

You really hope they get the navy captain so that you can find your family who may or may not be up north. Until then, you'll stay with the crew and hope for the best that there'll be minimal injuries incurred during the fight.

—

You can't seem to find sleep despite how tired you were of yesterday’s events. Tossing and rolling in your bed, with a huff, you fling away the blanket. Lacing up your well worn shoes, you open the creaking door quietly.

With only the moonlight as your guide, you walk the familiar hallways, feet carefully avoiding the noisy floorboards.

Entering the library, lighting the oil lamp left on the table, you roam the bookshelves. With the help of the lamp, it illuminates the old spines. But nothing has piqued your interest, finding the titles too dull to keep your attention or too engrossing that you might not fall asleep when you inevitably drown in its pages.

Yawning, you think of another way to help you sleep. Maybe a glass of water might help? Or better yet, a cup of warm tea and biscuits might satiate you.

So you traverse the hallways once again, passing by cabins. Careful not to make any noise or you might face the wrath of a sleep deprived pirate. You know what they say, it's better to tease a drunk pirate rather than wake one from their slumber.

With silent footfalls, you almost jump in your skin when you see the captain himself brewing a pot of something that smells incredibly sweet.

With his back turned away from the door, you're sure you can slink away without him noticing.

“Scuttlebutt,” he half chuckles as the floorboards under you creak while you try to escape. “Want some hot chocolate?”

You groan, defeated. Turning around, he greets you with a smug smile, his eyes showing how fatigued he is but the light is still there, saying otherwise.

“What the hell is hot chocolate?” crossing the space, you lean on the kitchen island, facing Hobie on the other side. “I thought chocolate was supposed to be cold.”

“You're in for a treat then. ‘m guessing you've never had chocolate before?” he takes a clean mug for you, laying it next to his.

“Nope,” you pop the letter p, trying your best not to wipe your heavy eyes. “Chocolate is a luxury few can afford.”

Hobie hums, pouring the hot liquid in each cup.

This is what ambrosia might've smelt like, you thought.

“It's chocolate melted down with hot water or milk. Lucky for you, we got a few bottles of ‘em from one of the families. But we need to consume it fast or it'll go bad quickly.”

He hands you the cup, taking it tentatively, you don't flinch back when he suddenly grabs your hand to hold it when he gets impatient from your apprehensiveness.

“Don't worry, I already gave Pav and the first shift their share so you can drink to your heart's content.”

You look into the swirling brown liquid, the warmth from the cup soothes your nerves. Taking a sip, Hobie watches with crinkling eyes and a smile hidden behind his own mug.

“Holy fuck! Sweet nectar of the Gods!” You say before you take a big gulp, the heat searing your tongue. “Ack!” Spluttering out, Hobie lets out a loud laugh.

“Be careful it's hot” he says in between laughs.

“I know, but it's so good though!” You exclaim, eyes twinkling with mirth.

Hobie chuckles, watching you swallow the liquid down to the last drop.

You sigh, full and happy. “If solid chocolates taste like this then I'm more than ready to raid a merchant ship carrying crates of it.”

Hobie shakes his head. “I've never thought chocolate could make someone a pirate.”

“Not a pirate.” You move to pour yourself a cup. Hobie beats you to it, the sweet drink sloshing inside, filling it to the brim.

“Hmm” he watches you through his lashes.

“You're thinking, that's bad.” You take your cup but Hobie holds it hostage with his hand over the ceramic.

“What are you really doing back here?”

“I couldn't sleep, I just wanted some water.” you move to try and take the mug from him but he moves it further from you.

“There's some outside.”

“Fuck off.” Your hips hit the corner of the kitchen counter harshly as you try to grab your cup sneakily. The mug of precious chocolate scrapes on the counter, making you glare at Hobie when a few drops of it spills. “What do you really mean by that, Hobie?”

He scoffs, “You being here is suspicious—”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not navy.” You say with gritted teeth. You're not sure if he's just messing with you or he's truly being genuine.

“Not that. Not after O’Hara ran a bloody marathon for you, I know you're not one of ‘em. Or at least not anymore.”

You glare at him, getting angrier the second he uttered that name.

“Are you a deserter? Hmm? Are you his runaway bride? If so I don't blame you, I'd run away too.”

You grimace. “Fuck no, I'm neither of those things! Now can you please give me my chocolate?”

“No.” He blinks like he just got some revelation. “Fuck, are you his kid?”

“No! What? How'd you even get that conclusion? Do I look like—?”

“For all I know you could be an aristocrat.” He raises a brow.

“Oh come on!” You're properly annoyed. “I've been scrounging up food and coins for years. If I was a runaway noble lady then I would've come home to my mansion the second I was starving!”

“Why did the retired admiral run after you then? He looked like he wanted your bloody arse.”

“It's none of your business.” The fire in your eyes tries to convey your emotions. “I don't want to talk about him.” your voice turns shaky.

“It's my business because you're on my ship. If Miguel O'Hara's after you I need to know if the rest of my crew is in danger.” a few weeks ago his infuriated face would've scared you but now you're equally as mad as him.

You exhale, knuckles closed tightly on your side. “Fine, I'm here on your ship because you're heading north and I need to go north. You don't need to know about me and that man because I'm leaving when we get there. He won't come after the crew, I won't let him.”

His anger dissipates, eyes avoiding your own. “Here,” he stretches his arm, sliding the cup to you. Hobie winces from the movement, grabbing onto his chest instinctively.

“What is it?” You look at his pained expression. Walking around the counter, you step towards him, not too close but not too far that you wouldn't notice how his brows are knitted together, sweat dripping on his forehead.

Carefully reaching for him, you turn him gently towards you, not missing how hot his skin is under his shirt. “Hobie, look at me.” You say softly, hand squeezing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

After a beat he looks at you with his stormy eyes, rain clouds dancing around his vision. “‘m fine, just need to sit down.”

“Let me see please” He freezes in front of you. “I'm here to help, aren't I? Now can I?” With a nod, he unbuttons his shirt slowly. Now open, a bandage is taped across his chest, dark blood seeping through it, clearly needing to be changed. “Fuck.”

“That bad?” He rasps.

“Yes, sit down.” You guide him towards a chair, surprisingly, he lets you. “I need to take it off to see the wound.” Hobie nods.

You kneel down in front of him, he sucks in his teeth with every tug and pull you do. The wound looks almost infected because of the careless bandaging and half hearted cleaning.

“Stay here, I'll get the things I need.”

He stops you with his hand bracelet around your wrist. “Tell me why you need to head north. There's nothing there but pompous politicians and leeching royals.”

“I think–” you start but you have no idea how to continue. Hobie looks up at you, hand sliding down to fit your own. “I think my family's there.” Without sparing any detail, you slip your hand out, turning away to head towards the infirmary.

—

His skin is hot against your hands, too warm for your liking. Sitting in between his legs, cotton shirt fully opened to reveal his wound and scarred chest. His newly bandaged knuckles rested on his thighs, they didn't need much cleaning but the skin was still open so you still did it just in case. The bottles of herbs rattle as the boat rocks from side to side.

Hobie's legs bounce up and down, the silence and tension is thick enough that your needle couldn't even poke through it. The ointment you're gently rubbing on him makes him wince, trouser leg bundled up in his shaking knuckles.

“Sorry, if there's any consolation, I hate this stuff too.” you quietly say. The strong smell from the mixture makes your nose itch.

“Were you a clumsy kid?” Hobie says, sucking in his teeth.

“Mm-hmm, I was climbing everywhere.” Chuckling softly. “Up in trees, roofs, got into so much trouble that she–” You stop, swallowing thickly. “I got a few scars to prove it.”

“We could compare–” he winces again when you press a little too hard on his wound but not too hard for it to bleed again. “Fuck…”

You hide your smile with a clear of your throat. “Sorry.”

“Fuck off, I know you're not sorry.” He laughs while you stifle yours.

Packing the mixture on his wound to combat any further infection, you make your hands extra gentle with every press and swipe.

“You should've told me about this.” Chastising him, you feel his eyes burn into your skull. “I could've prevented this, you know.”

“I've been told ‘m a stubborn bastard.”

“Oh I know. You did a shitty job at cleaning it by the way.”

“That's why you're here now, right?” His idle hands play with a hanging thread by your sleeves. He's not tugging at it so you don't mind, anything to keep his mind off the pain.

“So how'd you know about the turmeric for swelling?” You don't answer his question.

His smile falters before a small fond smile appears. “From someone a long time ago.”

Finishing up with cleaning his gash, you take a clean bandage from the table to cover and protect it. “They must be good then. Not a lot of people know about it.”

“Yes, she was.”

You pause, staring directly at his sad eyes. Hobie continues, “She was like you, brazen and full of fire.” He stares off into the distance, “A bloody force to be reckoned with.”

“A jack of all trades, she was. Always tryin’ to learn shit she didn't have to know.” Hobie flicks his eyes to you. “She knew how to swim, so that's a plus.”

You chuckle as he stares at your soft smile.

“Yours?” He asks tentatively, hand twitching to get closer to you.

“Does she know about ginger and honey?” Like a switch flicking, you stand up abruptly. “It's gonna help with your fever.”

Hobie doesn't press you for any information, instead, he lays back on the chair, letting you pamper him while your hot chocolate gets cold on the counter.

Preparing his tea, you can't help but feel bad for Hobie. Without him ever saying her name you know it's her, and you know he cared about her so much that whatever happened to MJ drove him to this state; a constant agony and hunger for revenge that if not satiated might consume him. He doesn't deserve it you think, he might be a pirate but during the time you've known him you found kindness in his frozen heart that's just waiting to be thawed out the moment he gets his revenge.

For his sake and the crew, you hope he gets what he always wanted.

“Here,” handing him the hot concoction, you're careful not to spill a single drop on him.

Hobie takes it, calloused fingers brushing yours. Taking a whiff of it, he makes a face that makes you scoff with a smile.

“If you can drink an entire glass of rum without choking then you can handle a simple tea.”

He side eyes you, shaking his head like a petulant child rejecting his medicine.

“Down the hatch, Hobie.” Bringing your hand under the cup, you guide it towards his tightly closed mouth. “It's sweet!”

“Nuh-uh” he shuts his lips closed the second he says it before you could shove the tea down his gullet.

Laughing, you can't believe the big bad captain of the bloodsail pirates is refusing to drink a simple ginger tea. “Do you need me to plug your nose, you big baby?” You say in between giggles.

“No, fine, I'll bloody drink it. I don't want your grimey hands all over my face.”

“These grimey hands were all over your chest treating your wound, you absolute child.” You regret your words the second you realize.

“Oh you were all over me, huh?” He smirks. You're glad that he can still smile after everything.

“Fuck off, drink it or don't, I don't care. Go die in a corner or something” you shrug, playing him like a fiddle.

“You really do care about me, Scuttlebutt.” With a deep breath, Hobie drinks the contents without any fuss.

You pat yourself on the back mentally. He coughs, scrunching his nose.

“I need to check your wound and clean it every eight hours. Got it?” You face him directly, hand on the side of his chair, looking down at him sternly.

“So you're finally askin' me out then? Pav was right, you're smitten.” Hobie has the brightest smile of a feverish man you've ever seen.

“Shithead.” You say, snatching the empty cup from his hands.

“You really do care about me. You've even given me a nickname”

You shake your head, taking your cold chocolate, flipping him the bird on the way out of the door.

“Lookin' forward to my next doctor's appointment, Trouble!” Hobie yells after you, his loud guffaw can be heard echoing out in the hallways.

—

You fall back into a comfortable routine. Helping the crew with their tasks and learning their ways throughout the time spent. You finally learn that the murky bucket of water doesn't have lye in it after seeing James dunk his entire arm in it. It's safe to say that he was covered in soapy water from head to toe after almost giving you a heart attack.

Ned's been teaching you how to mend the sails when you're not in the galley with Finn. He tells you tales of the time he was a traveling bard before the war. His stories were very colourful and sometimes not for the faint of heart. Who knew he had so many fans?

You've never smelt like gunpowder before, finding the powder tucked into the cloth of your clothes and sticking to your skin. The main culprit of the almost daily gunpowder bath is no other than Yuri and two fingers who took it upon themselves to teach you how to load a cannon and a musket. Under all the flirting, Yuri's a great teacher, your aim could do some work but at least now a gun isn't worthless in your hands.

At night, Miles and Pavitr would teach you about the stars and how to read maps, using it to navigate just in case you get lost. Which you hope will never happen to you. It would be a great skill to master if only you three would stop gossiping and giggling throughout the night, bellies full of tea and biscuits that Finn hides in the galley.

You find Gwen reading in the library alone from time to time. At first, you kept your distance, reading further away from her. But after a while, you notice that her favourite chair gets closer to yours until you sit side by side with her, reading quietly under a single oil lamp.

There's never a dull moment on the ship, everyone does their share of the work, and everyone gets to eat and be left to their own devices during the night. It's great, you think. You don't worry about your next meal or where you need to sleep anymore.

Your mind has never been this quiet since you left home.

Surprisingly, Hobie's been diligent at keeping your regularly scheduled injury maintenance on time. Even if you forget, he would appear out of nowhere, clutching your bag of supplies in his hands with a shit eating grin that makes you want to rip his bandage off harshly.

The brightness of the sun filtering through the large window hinders your vision a bit as you carefully take Hobie's stitches off. Your brows are knitted together, eyes full of concentration as sweat drips on your forehead. You could've done this in the infirmary but Hobie had to do a bunch of work in his cabin so you're currently doing your best at managing while he walks around the large table sat in the middle of the room. You follow him with your sutures and scissors. The sight must have been hilarious because half of the crew were chuckling and stifling a laugh.

But the moment you were finished, you threw them the nastiest glare you could muster. Shutting them all up immediately, looking away from you nonchalantly. You pretend you don't see them hiding their smiles.

Sitting down on a free chair, huffing and with your arms aching, you twist your wrists around, massaging the tired muscles with your fingers.

Miles sits next to you, a piece of paper landing right on top of your hands. Your own face stares back at you, a pencil sketch of you, face full of concentration.

“Did you draw this?” You say, surprised and with a bright grin on your face.

“No, Hobie did.” He says sarcastically but you believed him for a second. “Of course I did, it was a bit hard when you were following Hobie around like a duckling.”

“That's a compliment, ducklings are cute, Miles.” He rolls his eyes, “this is amazing though, thank you. I haven't had my likeness drawn in…never actually.”

Miles smiles, taking out a small leather bound sketchbook from his back pocket. “Prepare to be surprised then.”

He flips through it, you get glimpses of drawings from far flung sceneries, animals that you don't know the names of and faces of the crew; some familiar, some are strangers to you. But you see more of Gwen's face amidst the pages. You fight the urge to tease him, maybe you'll do that when half of the crew isn't discussing battle plans in front of you. Their faces are serious and intense as Hobie lays out figures on a map.

“You're this bored, huh?” With your elbow resting on your thigh, you watch him stop on a page.

“Look at this one” he proudly says, eyes twinkling. Showing you the pages, his hand still holding it just in case you had the audacity to flip through it yourself.

You can't believe it's your own face staring back at you.

Your eyes smile in the drawing, the unmistakable shine of happiness in them. Face turned to side, clearly looking at something. Your lips are curled up into a grin like someone just told you the funniest joke ever. The shading is expertly done by Miles, *it's like staring into a mirror, you thought. You've never seen yourself this happy.

“I'm guessing I did a good job?” He smugly says, “you're staring at it way too long, narcissus is that you?” Miles jokes, but his smile fades when he sees your eyes glistening in the sun. “Oh shit, please don't cry. Hobie's gonna kill me if I made you cry.”

You sniff, casually hiding the heat behind your eyes. “It's really good.” Chuckling, you feel a pair of eyes on your form. “Thank you, I–” exhaling, you have no idea how to properly thank him. Settling on a fist bump on his arm, you awkwardly do just that. “Thanks, you made me look prettier.”

He laughs, sighing in relief. “Nah, it was no problem. Making you look good was the hardest part.”

“You ruined it,” you scrunch up your nose, feigning annoyance. Pushing the notebook, shoving it to his chest he laughs loudly, too loud apparently when someone from the room shushes you two.

Miles winces before turning back to you. “You know what helped though? In getting your expression right?”

“No?”

“Hobie,” he says with a quick gesture towards the man. A mischievous smirk on his face. “You were talking to Hobie while I was drawing this.” Lifting the page back up, “look how happy you were!” You close the book with his fingers still inside.

Yelping, he glares at you. “I made you a portrait and this is how you thank me?”

“Shut it” your eyes roam the room, looking for someone who's eavesdropping on the conversation. Thankfully no one is. “Don't act like Gwen isn't on every page of your book.” you whisper shout at him.

“Oh so you're saying that the same feelings I have for Gwen can be translated to your feelings towards Hobie?” He teases you right back, whispering quieter. “I owe Pav a coin.”

“You little–!” He rockets away from his seat, weaving through the crew. “Come back here, Miles!” Chasing him, careful not to shove anyone, your fast footsteps echo in the hallways.

Miles yells back, gaining speed ahead of you. “I have Hobie's version too if you'd like to see it!”

“No! Fuck you! I'll tell Gwen!”

He turns heel, now running after you. Cursing, you turn around, back to where you came from. Sprinting, you both pass by Hobie's cabin lightning fast. The crew's laughter echoes out while you try to escape Miles.

Hobie can't help but crack a smile even when the topic at hand is serious and dire.

—

With a book in front of you, hands smelling of ink and paper, you glance at Gwen who's leaning on your side comfortably, using you as her personal backrest. You don't mind it since she snuck in hot chocolate for you.

“I've been thinking—”

“That's dangerous, don't hurt yourself.” She murmurs.

“Funny, ha ha” you laugh sarcastically. She snorts, eyes still glued on the page. “Seriously though, what's on the bow of the ship? I've only seen mermaids and the occasional angel carved on it but I've never seen one like the one here. Where in the world did Hobie even get it?”

“It's a dragon.” Gwen says without looking back at you.

“A dragon? But it doesn't have any wings though?”

She sits up, gently laying the book on her lap, looking prim and proper. “A version of it, I guess? It's popular in the east.” You listen intently so she continues. “In their stories, the dragons symbolize luck and strength, which we need now more than ever.” stretching her neck, she continues. “And Hobie traded it in exchange for our boring old siren.”

You chuckle, “What's the difference between the ones in our mythology and theirs? Other than the lack of wings and looking way cooler.”

“They say they have the power to control the weather and are big enough to swallow the moon.” you whistle out, intrigued. “Maybe after the fight we can sail over there and show you around the place?” she asks, grinning.

“I'd love that.”

You should tell her that you're not staying after the fight, but you don't want to ruin the moment or her mood. You'll tell her when you get the chance, for now, you let them focus on what's coming.

“We named him Terrence by the way.”

You giggle. “I'll be sure to greet him every morning.”

—

The clean water splashed on your head is a nice reprieve from the searing heat. Being the so-called ‘doctor’ on the ship, Hobie thought it would be a great idea for you to also be their designated water girl to combat heat stroke. It's easy work, reminding them to drink water and also just dumping a splash of water on the crew's head using a soup ladle. You're having fun actually, just randomly (and sneakily) pouring water over their heads whenever they complain about the heat while toiling under the sun, watching them shriek and jump from the sudden gush of water. Now they rarely complain anymore, that just means you've done a good job at keeping them all alive under the heat.

But there's one person who you haven't dumped water on yet, which with the help of Finn and his strength, you're about to remedy that.

Hobie stands near the helm, observing Pavitr sailing the ship with ease. You and Finn carry the entire barrel of half full water, (it's mostly Finn doing the work) carefully sneaking behind Hobie to dump the entire contents on him.

Before you could signal Finn to pour it on Hobie, he turns around, hands placed on his hips and a face that says: I dare you.

You freeze mid step, darting your eyes towards your little helper. Finn shrugs, subtly pointing his head towards Hobie.

“Well—?” With one strong heave of the barrel, pointing it directly towards Hobie, the water hits him with a splash, completely drenching him.

The sound gets everyone's attention, seeing their captain wet as a freshly caught fish, the roaring laughter fills the ship, pointing, hollering and whistling at their captain.

The smile on your lips fades, eyes widening when you flick your eyes downward, you've never thought a harmless prank could make your heart beat faster and for heat to rise to your cheeks. And it's not the sun that's causing that or a symptom of heat exhaustion, no, it's Hobie and his unfortunate white cotton shirt that's completely soaked through, sticking to his skin, showing off his chiseled torso. You don't dare look further down, you might not recover from what you could possibly get a glimpse of.

Hobie splutters, wiping at his wet face, water dripping from his entire body. You swallow thickly, Finn notices your sudden silence. He looks at you with narrowed eyes, head tilted like he caught your hand in the cookie jar.

You blink rapidly, “W-what?” Side eyeing Finn. He raises a brow, “What? I may not like him but I still have eyes, you know.”

“Liar.” He says in a deep voice, making you do a double take.

“Did you just—?”

“Y/N,” Hobie addresses you, eyes telling you to run. “You better not let me catch you.”

You squeak, bolting immediately. The crew guffaws loudly like they're watching the best entertainment the sea could offer. Sprinting down the stairs, hearing footsteps behind you, your old injury flares up, almost tripping you.

Hobie catches you before you could fall flat on your face. His drenched arms around your middle, his clothes squelching on your back, the water seeping through your own clothes.

“Time to walk the plank again, Scuttlebutt!” He jokes but the way he carries you towards the plank has you wiggling out, hitting his arms.

“It was a joke!” You scream. He walks closer, “a jape!” Hobie stops near the edge. “A jest!”

His laugh reverberates, you feel his chest vibrating. He cranes his neck down, whispering close to the shell of your ear. “Did you really think I'll throw you overboard?” Goosebumps rise on your skin as he blows hot air. “I'll let Finn do it instead.”

Biting your lip, hands gripping his wrists, you decide to rag him on after knowing he won't actually throw you into the shark infested waters. “yeah? Why don't you do it yourself? Be a man, captain”

Behind you, the crew continues to cheer. Pav even lets out a ‘lets go!’

Hobie chuckles deeply, squeezing you once. “You cheeky—”

The alarm bells from the crow’s nest rings out, James yells from above. “Vessel approaching! Starboard!”

Hobie lets you go, taking a telescope from a serious looking Gwen.

The blood in your veins turn into ice, holding on to the railing, you grip it as you feel your knees give out.

You can't hear what anyone is saying with blood rushing in your ears, frantic voices indistinct, igniting your nerves. Your breathing turns shallow, you try to count backwards in your head but it's no use when your hands start shaking.

“Oi,” Hobie notices your distressed expression. Rushing to your side, his voice starts getting clearer when he places his hands on your cheeks, holding you gently like you're about to break from the slight pressure from his touch.

“Breathe, yeah?” He inhales and exhales, encouraging you to do the same. You copy him, staring only at Hobie. “There, good, just breathe.” His thumbs wipe at the tears you haven't noticed letting out.

After a beat of breathing in sync, Hobie nods. “It's alright, they're allies. You don't have to be scared.” He turns you around carefully, “see? They're waving.”

Pointing at a man clad in red, white and blue, Hobie squeezes your shoulder. “That's Captain Anarchy and right next to him is his first mate, Robbie Banner. They're here to help us win the fight.”

You calm down a little once you see the crew of the other ship smile and wave at you. Trusting Hobie, you look over your shoulder, his face too close to you, breath mixing in together. Flinching, you take a step back from his hold.

He lets you go, hands sliding away from your elbows, giving you space. You look uncharacteristically small in front of him, shoulders hunched, eyes looking down at your feet.

“You're alright, Y/N.” His reassuring and soft voice echoes amidst the rowdy crew behind him.

You could only nod.

—

It's been chaotic since the sons of the sea arrived. They have been welcoming and kind to you, too kind, in fact that you sometimes forget that they're pirates. Especially Robbie, he always goes out of his way to help your uneasiness. He once told you during dinner with the crew that he knows how it feels to be new; and for some reason he thought that you're Hobie's lover, saying that loving a pirate captain is pretty hard work. You shut down the conversation immediately.

Finally finding a time for yourself, you stretch your aching hands, gunpowder stuck in your nostrils. Hemp and pine tar sticking under your fingernails. You've never thought that you'd be preparing for war but here you are.

After the incident, you've made yourself scarce. With preparation and between meetings, you hadn't had a chance to speak with him. Or for Hobie to even try to approach you. His wounds have healed so you don't have any reason to keep seeing each other. But you find yourself holding on to two mugs of hot chocolate, trudging the cold hallways to his cabin.

The mugs are warm in your hands, the familiarity helping with your nerves. You have no idea what to say to him, maybe a simple thank you perhaps? You didn't intend to become that vulnerable in front of him, so maybe an apology? Whatever you end up saying to him, it all has to start with a simple knock on his door which you're currently standing stiffly in front of.

Juggling two mugs in one hand, you place your knuckles on the wood. Your ears perk up at the muffled voices inside. Against better judgment, you place your ear above the door, eavesdropping on the conversation.

“—She’s not her, Hobie. I've seen how you act around her, how you look at her.” You strain your ears to hear better. “It's the same with MJ.” You blink in surprise.

“Gwen,” Hobie sighs, there's rustling on his end. “I don't like what you're insinuating.”

“I'm not insinuating anything. I'm saying this as a friend to you and to her. Don't. Just…don't” there's footsteps, “She's good for the crew, Hobie. We can't lose her.”

“I know she is.”

Gwen scoffs. “You just proved my point.”

“She's not her, I get it. Can you please go back to preparin’?”

“No, not until you get it in your thick skull.” she pauses. “She's her own person. I see it too, the similarities in their personalities. But Y/N’s not MJ.”

You almost drop the mugs.

“I know she's not MJ. I don't fancy her, I tolerate her.”

“Are you sure? Because you keep–”

His voice shakes. “MJ is gone and Y/N is Y/N. I know she's not MJ.”

Backing away from the door, emotions swirling into a dangerous concoction, face flat and lips downturned. You slowly bend down to place the mug on the side of his cabin door.

You have no idea how to react or confront it, so you just walked away. Throwing the information in the back of your mind, hoping it doesn't seep into your bones. Hope that it doesn't rot and spoil inside.

—

The sky is heavy with dark clouds, thunder booming like drum beats, lightning peeking out in the night. A storm is coming, you can feel it in your tendons, the smell of petrichor looming overhead, temperature dropping significantly. The fog obscuring the way doesn't help with your icy nerves. The rest of the crew battens down the windows, preparing to weather out the storm. You're not even that close to the destination and yet the sky is already preventing the ship from going further.

The sea is unusually calm despite the storm brewing ahead. A possible omen to what's to come next. You pray that you're wrong.

Shutting your window, locking it in place, you take your medical bag that's hanging from the cabin's doorknob. Making sure the door is properly closed, you head over to the deck.

You almost collide into a body, their hands holding on to your elbows.

“Woah there!” He holds you at arm's length. “You alright, doc?” His genuine smile makes the day a tad brighter.

“Captain Anarchy, hello and please don't call me that. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not actually a doctor.” You chuckle lightly.

“I won't call you doc if you don't call me captain anarchy.”

“Alright, what should I call you then?”

“Karl's fine. I'm not your captain anyway so why bother calling me captain y’know?”

You nod, “Yeah, I get it. Are you lost? These are the cabins.”

“Shit, yeah.” He scratches his head. “I swear this place is built like a maze. I'm looking for the galley actually, Finn said I can borrow some ingredients. I'm planning on cooking for everyone tonight.”

“That's really nice of you, thanks. I'll show it to you if you want?”

“That would be fantastic, thank you!”

Gesturing behind him, you lead him while he laughs at his own blunder. “Wait, Finn talked to you?”

“Mm-hmm, I've known him for a while. The secret is to talk about produce and spices then you won't be able to get him to shut up.”

“I'll keep that in mind.” You chuckle, shaking your head. Deciding to make small talk while weaving around hallways, you ask him. “How long have you been a pirate?”

He sighs, “Too fucking long.”

“Looking to retire?” you look over your shoulder, his face says it all.

“Absolutely, we're all just saving up so we could settle comfortably somewhere. Unfortunately taxes are really fucking high these days thanks to the asshole in the big chair.”

“You got that right. All these wars and sponsoring explorations got the people's coffers dry and empty.”

“Exactly! Man, Hobie really knows how to pick them, huh?” He shakes your shoulder like you're old friends. You don't flinch away, in case you offend the only ally Hobie has.

“We're not together.” you say flatly.

“That right? Sorry. Well, he did pick the right crew member then.”

“More like he fished me out of the sea.”

He laughs, the sound reminding you of a bird chirping. Karl looks at your humorless face. “Wait, seriously.”

“Yep, that's a story for another day because we're here.” you open the doors for him, showing him the galley.

“Thanks, Y/N. I owe you one.” he shoots you a friendly wink.

“Of course, just give me extra portions later.” you joke.

He chortles, “I'll save the bigger bowl for you”

Before you leave, there's a question that's unfortunately gnawing in your head.

“Can I ask you something?”

He peeks over the counter, blue eyes staring back at you. “Shoot.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh, it just means go ahead.”

“Right, uh…Did you know Hobie three years ago?” You cross your arms on your chest.

“I've known him far longer than that.”

“How was he back then?”

Karl thinks for a moment. He smiles, “Best damn pirate I've ever seen, next to me of course. He was younger, wide eyed, hungry for adventure, more than ready to take down the crown itself. Safe to say he's ambitious, he still is but—” he shakes his head. “For a different reason now.”

“Do you not think he can take down Matthias?”

“I have faith that he can and he will eventually. But I'm afraid that I'll never see that wide eyed Hobie ever again. He's gotten used to the flames, feeding it, letting it consume him. I don't think he'll be able to fight that fire after he gets what he wants.”

You clench your jaw. “What happened to MJ?”

“I don't think I'm the right person to tell you that.”

Nodding, you wordlessly thank him with a small smile.

“Wait, Y/N.” he calls for you.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens, help him douse the fire? For everyone's sake.”

“I— I'll do my best.”

He gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Promise me, please. I owe MJ that much.”

You exhale shakily. “I promise.”

Turning to leave, you fight with yourself. How could you make that promise when you plan to leave after Hobie wins? How do you keep that promise when you can't even look him in the eye? How do you tell Gwen and the others when their hearts are set to you staying on board?

Will it be worth it for you to leave what you currently have for someone who may not even exist?

You pause in the middle of the barren hallway, hand clutching tightly at the straps of your bag. Breathing heavily, you feel it rearing its ugly head again.

Your thoughts get interrupted by the alarm bells ringing, this time instead of curling around yourself, you decide to face it head on despite the shaking in your legs. The crew needs you, and you need them.

Crash!

The ship lunges harshly to the side, flinging you to the wall, head pounding on the hardwood.

Your vision blurs, white dots dancing, ears ringing and your head stinging from the impact.

“Fuck…” you crawl, doing your best to get up on the deck.

“They need you. Get up, lazybones.”

Hearing her voice whisper into your ear, makes you laugh coldly. You're probably concussed.

With a groan, you lift yourself up, using the wall as leverage.

With every heavy step, you straighten up, ignoring the pain in the back of your head. Walking up the steps makes you dizzy but you continue on.

Holding on to the door frame triumphantly, you reach the deck.

The fog has reached the ship, covering the entire deck in its thick mist. You notice the quiet, and the lack of movement from the crew. They all just stand stiffly, spaced away from each other. holding their weapons in their hands in a tight grip, the only indication that they're alright.

You spot Hobie in the middle of the crowd, eyes staring into the sea.

“Hobie?” You softly say. Grabbing his arm, you jump when he takes your wrist without taking his eyes off from what he's staring at.

His hand shakes, you're afraid to look.

“Y/N,” he whispers, voice cracking. “I'm sorry.”

His apology makes you follow his gaze.

The thick fog makes way for a dozen ships sailing towards you at incredible speeds, they open the lamps on their bows one by one. Like a hunter's gaze, they petrify you.

With your heart trying to escape your chest, you turn starboard, hopeful for a way out. But the sight alone would make you weep.

A larger ship looms over the revenge, its bow crashed on the side of the now splintered wood of the ship. The navy ship is Gilded and pristine, decorated with carvings of asphodels. The crowned angel with her wings spread out on the bow looks down at you through her wooden eyes.

Hobie clutches on to you tighter, scowling, shaking in sheer anger.

A menacing laugh echoes into the eerie silence.

You're surrounded.

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 1 month ago

Text

It’s The Avengers (04x10)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 4 Episode 10: Million Dollar Baby

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of the housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: crazy rich white people, and perverts

Word Count: I am suffering from some kind of allergies that are making me cough incessantly (did I use that word right?)

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The camera recorded darkness before a few familiar voices came up. “I ain't never rep a set, baby (Tsk, tsk) I ain't do no wrong I could clean up good for you Oh, I know right from wrong 'Cause I wanna make it so badly I'm a million-dollar baby, don't at me-“ Another voice cut the whispered sing-song. “Scott, Shhhh!” “Sorry,” Scott whispered. “Javi, are the cameras working?” The screen lit up with Scott’s face looking right into the lens. He wore a white t-shirt under an oversized light blue shirt with beige trousers. The broad-rimmed black glasses sitting on his nose were hard to miss. The frame cut to Peter’s face as the boy tried to set his now overgrown lush hair so they rested right above his pair of broad-rimmed brown glasses. This time a pair of olive-toned arms came into the frame to correct the gold necklace with a beetle for a pendant resting around Peter's neck. The frame cut to Javier this time, who was the one correcting Peter’s concealed camera cum ‘necklace’ before giving the spider man a thumbs up. “Are the mics working? Are our earpieces working?” Scott whispered into his necklace, getting a thumbs up from both the boys. Javier’s device was a ‘green gem’ embedded in a teddy bear pendant. The boy was looking clean in an olive blazer and trousers over a black t-shirt. The boys were dressed to impress. “Everyone remembers what we have to do?” Sam’s voice crinkled through the earpiece. Peter and Scott nodded before affirming with their words. Javier simply gave a thumbs-up to Scott’s body cam. “Where’s our fourth player?”

The door to the van opened and the six feet tall figure of Loki stood outside. The God was dressed in a sky blue shirt with its sleeves rolled up to show his entire left arm freshly tattooed. Javier could be seen twisting the edge of his digital watch to let the spy cam inside the watch focus on the intricate designs of dragons, daggers, the portrait of Loki’s mom and one tiny Ice Bear from Bare Bears. Our boy made sure he recorded the movement of that veiny tatted arm rising and running his long pale fingers through his hair pulled back into a ponytail. His wide-ankle navy blue jeans added to the effect of making him one irresistible bad boy who was about to steal your girl. “Oh my God, Loki,” Scott let out an exasperated whisper, shaking his head in disbelief before going into his fanny pack and pulling out a golden tear drop earring and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and putting them on the God without hesitation. “That’s better.” There was a second of silence when everyone else waited for Loki to react to the invasion of his space. But all the God did was look down at his attire and then back at the boys with a genuine question. “Does this look convincing enough?” The lens focused on the unadulterated concern in his eyes.

Sam: I almost feel bad for sending Loki on the mission. *concern spilling from his eyes* look at him. He thinks he needs to look convincing for the part of a mafia boss wanting in on a new drug deal. *squints in frustration* Bro’s already got the gangster shoulders for that. All he has to do is run them hands through his hair and people are going to drool all over the floor *exhales with a mocking tone*

The boys walked to the entrance of a huge metal gate with intricate design, wherein they were stopped by a Caucasian guard with a heavy build. "This is a private property," he stated, never blinking. Loki's glasses caught Scott giving an air of offence at those words. "And we are private people," the Ant-man declared with a soft tone that had weight.

Peter: *wide-eyed* it's like I was looking at a different man! It's like someone super rich who buys buildings because someone told him he couldn't.

"You don't even have a car." The guards did not blink until the last minute. Scott put his hands in his pant pockets and exhaled for the act. "Would you bring your car to this private evening, Beau Coolberg?" The guard lost his composure, suddenly blinking and sweating. "The password, sir?" he asked politely before bringing out his tablet to punch in a few digits. Scott rolled his eyes at the man before stressing the words through his teeth. "Tiki Mori." The guard nodded and pulled himself aside, signalling the other guard under him to bring forward the golf cart. "Enjoy your evening, Mr Antony," he fumbled the words. Scott took a step towards the man who was sweating. "Oh, I will, Beau. The question is...will you?" And with that Scott sat himself at the back and the boys followed. "You're gonna get fired, bro," the mics picked the other guard declaring to his senior as the cart moved towards the mansion's front door. Peter looked at the Ant-man wide-eyed. "How did you-" Scott shrieked. "OhmygodIthoughtIwasgonnagettased."

The inside of the mansion looked less like a luxury abode and more like a frat house with a spoiled brat' vibe to it. Young men and women walked about with drinks in their hands, talking, smoking, arguing, vaping, getting high, getting freaky. There were a few older men. greys in their hair, flirting their way to girls half their age. Older women loved the attention from young men and women alike, not to mention their lungs' unrivalled capacity to out-smoke the little ones surrounding them. "Perk up, boys. Our mans is entering at eleven o'clock," Scott declared to his team, alerting them to get ready with their act as they spread through the room and act as if they do not know each other. All was quiet and bougie till Loki furrows his brows and looks down at Scott. "Did you just say perk up?"

Sam: *takes in a lungful* *camera zooms in* *shakes his head* his therapist has failed us.

*Natasha's voice comes from somwhere outside the frame* Who? Loki?

Sam: No! Scott!

A blonde man who could be in his late forties entered the hallway. The tan on his face did not match the tone of his pale under eyes. His smile exposed his exceptional white-washed teeth while his clothes only spoke French. "Bonjour, Antony!" The rich white man walked towards Scott with his arms wide open. "Please, Teflon," Scott rolled his eyes, "call me Antonius." "Only if you call me Musk," Teflon added before guffawing the laugh of a gold-spooned nepotism baby. The boys' cameras caught the Ant-Man visibly getting uncomfortable while matching the rich man's laugh. "And why are your friends scattered away from you?" he pointed out at every single one of our men in the room. 'Antonious' pulls out another rich man guffaw. "They are not my friends, Teflon." "But you registered them all under your codename." "DAMITT SCOTT!!" Sam could be heard through the comms. "They are my boys," Scott hopped in quickly for a save. "They are my brothers, Tef. They might not be my blood but they sure as hell will draw it, if need be. So-" Scott reflected a serious demeanour in front of the host- "do not insult them by calling them just my friends." The camera zoomed in on Javi and Peter's horror-struck faces already stuffed with cream lobster.

Peter: For a moment there I felt our cover would be blown this time. For. Sure. *camera zooms out to show Javi sitting next to Peter* Javi: *signing* I think our cover was blown but Scott was too proud to admit it and instead asked Dr Strange to reset the time. Peter: *looking at Javi in shock* BRO! *exasperation suddenly turns into a calm demeanour* You know what, that can happen *looks back at the camera* *nods* That can happen.

"Come, meet my boys," Scott told Teflon, before signalling the 'boys' to come over. "This is my boy Theo, short for Theodore. This is Luther. This is my boy Dan. Dan does not speak because he has taken a vow of silence to show respect for the souls of the poor kids who lost their homes in the recent...curfuffle." Javi automatically folded his hands and did a little bow. Teflon reacted with a pippy 'oh!' and mimicked Javi for a second. "Sad, isn't it, Antony? If it were to men like us, there simply wouldn't be a problem like this." Scott is halfway through his nod when Teflon chimed, "Because we would have simply nuked that country!" and added roaring laughter. Scott mirrored the roar as well, but his sounded more like a realisation of horror. The man threw his head back at his own joke, never noticing Scott turn his fingers into a fist and launching himself at him. The boys stopped him, grabbing onto his arms and waist and forcing him to not break character.

Two Minutes Later The man was still laughing. "Come on, man. Just let me hit him once. I'll make it look like an accident!" Scott begged. Loki simply gestured him to shush by putting his finger on his lips, making the Ant Man go quiet sooner than anticipated. Javi's camera glasses zoomed in on the coy man.

Scott: What? *lowers his voice a little with a hint of softness* You shut up when Loki tells you to shut up. *shrugs his shoulders* I regret nothing.

"I thought Teflon threw great parties," Loki finally spoke- but with an American accent- acting as though he was disinterested in his surroundings, "if I knew you were bringing me to some old ass mixer I would've gone to my neighbour's orgy, Ant...ony." Teflon looked at the man who was a foot taller than him and patted him on his shoulder. "Big boys don't show their toys at the mansion gates, Luther. They keep them hidden away for special people and special occasions." The man flashes his pearly white smile and led the way. "Come, I'll introduce you to some of my special guests."

One Hour Later The 'boys' were scattered throughout the place. Scott was outside in the garden, charming his way through the old men crowd. Peter was sitting in between the old white ladies, never breaking a sweat as they fed him everything and chatted with him like they knew him from ages. Javi was on the first floor trying to get away from the three white girls stoned out of their minds, constantly wanting to touch the poor boy. Loki was on the first floor too, standing in a corner that was close to the entrance as well as the balcony, and it had a clear view of the door that led to Teflon's son's office. The God was nursing his drink, letting the ice clink with the thick glass as his whiskey watched him never touch his lips. "Nice tatts," a girl complimented the God; who did not bother responding. "I said nice tatts," she raised a tone, inching in closer, instinctively forcing Loki to scooch away from her, only giving her a single-second stare of judgment before returning to his drink. "Rude," she snapped before her offended expression turned into a smirk. "I like it. Do it more," she purred, inching closer to Loki. Javi ignored the ladies and started walking towards the God upon seeing him in trouble. "Back off, bitch! He's mine!" Scott growled from behind the girl, scaring her away by pretending to bite her with a feral look in his eyes. The moment she was out of the frame, Scott transformed back into his usual self. "Nothing downstairs," he concluded to Loki as well to Sam. Both looked at Javi, who simply shook his head before joining the two. "Uh, guys?" Peter's voice crackled through the comms. "All that recon and still no leads?" Another familiar voice came through the earpieces, this time taking everyone's attention. "Natasha?" Loki was the first to answer. "Just like all the rizz and still no gals," Natasha cooed, laughing at her joke. Javi rolled his eyes. Loki squared his lips. "Hey! I got my gals," Scott hissed through his mic, "and my gal got me. Don't include me in this dry hoe group." Loki and Javi looked at Scott with murderous stares. Scott showed no signs of regret. "Natasha, please tell me you have some information on the package before I rip Scott's skull from his shoulders in front of five hundred people," Loki pressed, never taking his eyes off Scott's head. "Did you check Leo?" she sounded bored. "Teflon's son?" Scott mocked a laugh, "Of course, we did. That druggie has zero clue about who is sitting next to him. I'm sure he is the last person who would know where a bunch of super important papers are, Nats." Loki leans on the decorative table behind him, putting his free hand inside his pant pocket. "Unless he rolled those papers to smoke some pot," he casually added. Javi and Scott stared at Loki with a hint of horror. Loud music and elated screams of the guests could be heard in the background.

No one spoke for a good stretched moment. "Guys-" Peter tried to speak again -"you're not gonna believe who's here." "I do have information on the package, Loki," Natasha cut the boy short. "In fact, my apprentice has obtained the code to the safe where it's locked." "Apprentice?" Scott, Loki and Peter questioned in harmony. Javi, on the other hand, was slowly feeling his eyes widen and his lips parted in a mild surprise. Correction: the surprise, it seems, was not mild. "Wait-" Scott's eyes lit up momentarily- "is your little sister here? Oh my Gosh! Guys! Nat's little sis is here! I finally get to meet Black Widow Jr!!" "Guys!" Peter nearly shouted through the comms. "There is someone else here too!" It almost felt like his voice was cracking in his throat. "And...and-" The speakers in the house changed the song to a familiar track by Rusha and Blizza. The intro to 'Pashu Gudwan' amplified with every passing second. Javi was the first one to freeze where he stood. His eyes were stuck on something in the distance. His lips parted in mild shock, his elbow automatically nudging Scott. Scott whipped his head at the boy in confusion before following Javi's line of sight. The constricted brows behind the glasses were raised in exclamation. His mouth too went agape. Javi walked forward, the instinct of the camera guy in him wanting a closer look. But the poor guy tripped over a hungover frat boy, nearly falling face first if not for his own strong biceps stopping him. "What are you talking about?" Loki was still trying to get the words out of Peter, pressing his earpiece to see if something was wrong with his gadget. He turned to Scott to wonder that out loud. "What is Peter talking-" One look at the surprise on Scott's face and the God was turning his head to see what more had made the Ant-Man drop his jaw. And when he did settle on his friends' line of sight, he could not believe what he was seeing either. "...uhhhh guys?" Sam was the only one unaware. The camera following Sam in the 'control room' somewhere nearby recorded the confusion and agitation on the man's face. Natasha- who stood motionless next to him- turned her head towards the camera and gave a suggestive smirk before turning to the screens.

From the outdoor lobby walked a pair of fine legs, covered in tattoos. If not for Javi lying halfway on the floor, no one would have guessed that all those tattoos were One Piece references beautifully decorating a pair of toned legs in booty shorts. The camera rose to capture the slightly visible abs adorning the abdomen with some fine curves. But that was not what made the frame visibly shake. It was the moment when the figure with those fine curves raised her arms to tie her hair, and the finely sculpted muscles on her back popped up to say hi. And when they walked past the camera, the backless top let the back muscles glare down at you and say 'you wish that were you, huh'. Peter too joined the two men staring at the figure walking towards them. It was you. Covered in tattoos. A naval ring. A nose ring. Dense kajal in your eyes. Deep purple hair with fresh bangs and a high ponytail. And gold-rimmed glasses. Loki too felt his jaw drop a little. His eyes blinked fast for a moment, considering whether you were a hallucination.

Scott: *flailing his hands as if pointing at the situation he was just in* *mouth agape* *shrieks* WHAT???!!!!! Peter: *screams in the background* *runs past the camera screaming* NOOOOO!!!!!! Scott: *falls on the floor sobbing* how can someone so innocent look so good in those goddamn tattoos!!! Peter: *screaming from a distance* LIKE A LESBIAN GODDESS!! Scott: *raises his tears-smeared face, snot falling from his nose* *whispers* Oh my God, she's a lesbian now

Before you could reach them and Scott could finish saying your name, a boy emerged and swooped you up in his arms, gathering a unified gasp from Scott and Peter, and Javi in the background. "Babe-" the 'boy' in question sang, before putting you down and kissing your bare shoulder- "you came!" "Isn't that...Leo?" Scott whispered to Peter. Blonde curls with a buzz cut for the sides, a ruby stud in the left ear, a tattoo in Korean reading 내 다리 사이의 열반 on the arm, a gold bracelet on the right wrist and a bulky bodyguard within three feet of that man. He was right. This was Leo. "Hey babe!" you cooed mildly, cupping his face as you brought it away from your shoulder and towards your own before wrapping your arms around his neck. The mics could hear the multiple pauses of breaths clear as a bomb explosion. "You promised this party won't be boring." Your fingers teased his lips before taking his mouth in a playful grip. "And you have like five minutes to impress me before I leave. Alone." You had an accent; a mild accent, nothing like the way you usually talk. Your body language was different too.

Javi: *signing* something is different about Y/N. She isn't walking with her usual shrimp back. Scott: *from outside the frame* Yeah, her back's straight. And arched to compliment her butt. *camera pans out to show Scott wiping his snot while still sniffling* Scott: *with freshly cried soaking voice* she has a straight back and an arch! Who the f@&$ hoe-d up my precious baby?

Leo growled at the proximity. With one hand on the small of your bare back, the other travelled to your ass, giving it a good squeeze. "I'll do it in three and you'll be begging me not to stop," he whispers in your ear before going in for a bite of your shoulder. Scott's grandmotherly instincts involuntarily took over as he grabbed the candlestick from the decorations behind him and started walking towards Leo. Before he could take even two steps, Loki's arm stopped him, putting him back in his position without much difficulty. The boys had their eyes on Loki, waiting for his reaction. The God did not flinch. He stood there, observing you. And Leo. You grabbed Leo's curls and pulled him away from your shoulders, earning a wince from his lips. "What did I tell you about my body?" you questioned him patiently, never breaking eye contact. "That I do not get to touch it till I've been a good boy," Leo gave you his best puppy dog eyes before letting his hands slowly leave your ass and your back. "Good boy-" you complimented him, making him smile the widest smile before he licked his lips and let his eyes roam all over your skin- "now, you seem to be keeping your guests waiting." Leo followed your gaze and saw the three men standing there stripping him with their stares. "Hey, I'm Leo. Teflon's my father. Welcome to the party." "Ah, Leo," Scott was back into his character as if on instinct. "These are my boys Theo, Dan and Luther-" he announced but never pointed out who was who- "and I am Antony. And who might this beautiful lady be? Your sister?" Scott raised his hand to take yours, to which you obliged, and let him plant a little kiss before patting the top of your hand with his. You passed him a smirk. "This is my babe, Zenia." He was about to wrap his arm around your waist but reverted at the first sign of your piercing gaze as if remembering your rule. Javi's camera caught Loki hiding his smirk whilst he pretended to adjust his glasses. "Nice to meet you all," you acknowledged everyone before turning to Leo. "How about you make them feel welcome and I'll freshen up." Leo sucked in the air through his rounded lips. "Are we going to continue from where we left off that night?" he whispered; unfortunately, loud enough that the boys could hear it all. Peter averted his gaze, looking at anything but the two of you. Scott was still holding the candlestick but was gradually removing the holding plate from the rest of the stick.

Peter: *never coming in the frame* *groans weakly* somebody please pour acid in my eyes Scott: *sitting in front of the camera with a death stare* I'll continue from where you left off, Leo! *raises the candle stick with a menacing chuckle* Peter: *groans* somebody please pour acid in my ears

"Maybe," you nodded, building up a smirk, "if your office can take it." And with just that you left. At least that's what it felt like, save for the tiny second where Loki's camera caught your eyes staring directly into his before walking away.

Natasha sat in front of the screens that had mapped all the security cameras of the Teflon mansion. She watched you walk with the same sensuous gait you had bewildered the Avengers with just a few minutes ago.

Natasha: *proud smile* I taught her that *smile slowly turns into a frown* in ten hours. It took me ten hours to teach her a stupid walk because she hadn't walked like a woman. Ever. *pissed* *inhales* *exhales through her mouth* *in a calm voice* but she is doing better now *smiles again*

"I'm proud to see you not letting go of your character after five minutes, Y/N. Good job," she announced through the comms. A low growl came from your end as you turned a corner and waived at a blonde high as a kite. "I hate that son of a bitch. I swear to God, Natasha, I will break his teeth if he tries to bite my shoulder one more time." Before Natasha could respond to your anger, Sam muted her end of the comms. "Seriously, Nat? Y/N?" Nat blinked at Sam before nodding, making Sam lose the air in his lungs from the mock laugh involuntarily coming out of him. "You sent Stark's daughter on a mission with the world's creepiest pervert. What were you thinking?" Natasha blinked again, this time furrowing her brows. "Aren't your boys on the same mission?" "That's different," Sam brushed the air with his hands. "So is she," Natasha shrugged. "Your boys can't enter Leo's bedroom. She can." She pointed at the screen just as the security guards opened the door to the entire wing that was Leo's, where only a select few people could be seen. Taking the drink offered by the waiter at the door, you walked up the marble stairs as if you belonged there. No one second-guessed your presence as you walked through the corridors to the end of the hallway. The music was loud here too. The crowd here was less drunk and more high. You could hear moans and groans coming out of different rooms. But you walked past them all. Dropping the contents of your glass in the nearest potted plant, your legs increased their speed a little when they got close to the door. What you did not notice- but the cameras did- was a man following you. "Nat-" Sam's voice reflected the worry of watching a stranger follow you. "He's not from Leo's security," Nat responded, watching the feed as his hands went to his belt. Both Natasha and Sam unmuted the comms in unison. "Y/N, there's-" Before they could finish shouting their sentence, a gust of wind- with a dark figure- came from the left door, and pushed the man into room to the right. "What?" you stopped right outside your destination for a second before turning back. "What?" you asked again. "Nothing," your guardians declared in unison. You nodded, turned around and entered through the door. Muting the comms, Natasha and Sam stared at each other. "That was..." Natasha did not finish her sentence, looking at Sam for confirmation. Sam blinked at the footage a few times before looking at Natasha. "It better be someone on our side because I swear to God I ain't got time to deal with ghosts." Natasha shrugged, brushing the air around her, "It's probably Loki." She then turned away from Sam and looks right into the camera to whisper, "I pray." Sam whipped his head in her direction, looking at her with deep offence stuck in his neck.

Leo's private room camera feed took the main screen, showing you entering the door and turning right to where the bedroom was. You kneeled down by the bed to open the bedside drawer and click something on the underbelly. Natasha and Sam watched as the drawer hissed, and a false hood opened inside. Your hand went inside and brought out a transparent one-by-three-inch plastic plate. "What's that?" Sam had to ask. "It's a floppy or memory plate of some kind," you answered while walking to the other end of the private wing. You opened the door to the office and walked straight to the cabinet on the opposite wall. Natasha cursed under her breath as she noticed something in the corner of the live feed, going for the mic. "Miss Y/L/N?" a voice from behind you made you jump. It was one of Leo's security detail. The screen showed you immediately hiding the memory plate in your back pocket. "Hey!" your body language changed again, the arch in back coming back again and the sultry in your voice getting heavy. "I thought I was alone in here. Well, at least that's what Leo told me when he said he'd join me." But the man did not flinch. Instead, he took a step towards you. "Ma'am, what do you have in your pocket?" "Hmm?" you tried to act all innocent. Letting your hands dig into your pocket, you bit your lips and took out something shiny. "Not very discreet, am I?" "She has a condom," Sam whispered through the anxiety in his lungs. The security guy was still unfazed. "Ma'am, I need you to step out of the office," he made it sound like a request but his tone had other intentions. Natasha tried to get a read on the guy, who had his back to the camera, while you walked to your left towards the desk and sat on it. "Oh, come on, now. Don't be a prude. Leo's coming in like five minutes. So, you can leave me be." The man stepped towards you, taking his earpiece out. "Ma'am, this is a private study. I cannot allow you in here till Mr Teflon is present." He took another step, closing the gap between the two of you. "And if you don't walk out that door, I will have to take you out forcefully." "Wow! Did not even bother to mention Leo's name. No respect for the dude," you tsked at him before getting down from the desk and walking towards the door. "I work for Mr Teflon. I have seen whores like you dragged out of this office in bodybags just because they could not keep their attitude in check." Natasha could see a shift in your pace at those words, though you did not let that affect your composure. But the moment that man touched your buttcheek, Natasha could see your elbow making an impact into his rib. Your upper body turned to land a punch in his already grotesque expression before your knee cracked his balls. "Too bad for you, buddy," you whispered into his wincing infant form, "this whore knows how to fight." You hastily entered the memory plate into a slot hidden behind the books. The desk hissed and unveiled a glass case that housed the blueprints. You looked around for any openings to the case but could not find any. "How the f*&# does this thing open?!" you growled in pure rage. You jumped the desk to look for something to break the glass with, only to be tased by the security guy in the ankle. You fell on your knees. The man grabbed you by your ankle before climbing you to let his hands grip your neck. You tried to break the hold but this six feet tall animal had all the intentions of killing you right there and then. "CODE VIOLET!" Natasha screamed through the comms. "CODE VIOLET!!!" The camera watched as Sam struggled to get the boys on the comms before turning to Natasha; a hint of fear crawling into her eyes as they watched your grip loosen with every passing second.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki smut #loki series #It's The Avengers #mcu loki #mcu loki fluff #avengers x reader #mcu fluff #loki fanfic #loki fic #Maladaptive Ninja Return #The Office AU

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yandere-writer-momo · 2 years ago

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Revenant (Final part)

Minors do not interact!

._._._._._._._._._._.

(Your name) nearly collapsed onto the cave floor in exhaustion. The young woman glancing up, her eyes widening in fear at the sight before her.

The familiar silver cross pattern on the mutilated corpses were from Lord Vetle… Balder really had went searching for her.

Tears gathered in her eyes when she saw one of the decaying corpses have Balder’s pendant around their neck. Her hands gingerly reaching forward, her skin touching the cool metal of the pendant, a choked sob leaving her throat. It was indeed Balder’s.

Hot tears fell down her face, an anguished cry leaving her throat. Her poor Balder had perished at the hands of some sort of monster.

(Your name) began to sob, endless tears cascading down her face. She felt so horrible disbelieving in Balder. Of course he’d come after her, he loved her.

A sudden huff caught her attention, her eyes widening in fear at the sight that stood before her at the entrance of the cave.

The polar bear from earlier stood before her, it’s icy eyes gazing down at her. A soft growl leaving the bear’s throat, causing a loud scream to leave (your name)’s mouth.

(Your name) fell to the cave floor, one of her boots falling to the cave floor in her fear.

(Your name) instinctively placed her arms over her head, trying to shield her neck in case the bear decided to latch on. Her tears falling down even harder when she felt the hot breath of the bear on the skin of her hands.

A hot tongue excitedly rubbed across the surface of her hands, her eyes widening in surprise. (Eye color) eyes curiously peaking at the blue eyes of the snow white bear, tears gathering in its eyes. Why did those eyes look so familiar?

(Your name) slowly turned around, the bear not moving an inch. A huff escaping it’s throat, the large, white bear plopping itself down onto its bottom. The creature trying to show her that he wasn’t a threat to her.

(Your name) twisted her body to sit upright. Her head tilting to the side in a curious manner. Why was this bear so strange?

The bear held a paw out to her, eyes shining brightly at her. (Your name) carefully placed her hand in the polar bear’s paw, eliciting an excited noise from the bear.

The bear then leaned its head in towards (your name). Blue eyes curiously peaking up at (your name)’s, as if he was waiting for her to catch onto something.

“You’re a very stranger bear-“

“(Your name)!” Björn charged into the cave, wild brown eyes widening at the display before him. “We have to go.”

The white bear quickly separated from (your name), the white bear’s large form blocking her from Björn. Confusion consuming (your name). Why was this bear so protective?? Why was this yet another action that was familiar? It’s mannerisms we’re just like…

“…Balder?” The bear whipped his head around to (your name), an excited noise escaping it’s throat.

Björn slammed his fist into the bear’s mouth, Björn’s hand hurriedly grabbing (your name)’s, dragging her away from the bear.

“Hurry!” Björn nervously bit his lip, sweat dripping from his brow. He needed to get her away from the other bear before she realized the truth…

The brunette giant easily pulling her away from the bear and into the blizzard outside. Björn stood in front of (your name), shielding her from the snow.

“Grab onto my back, (your name)! And don’t let go.” (Your name) nodded, her small hand grasping the warm fur coat on Björn’s back. The male taking off with a speed she couldn’t even consider human.

A loud roar escaping the polar bear who tried to pursue. A huff leaving it’s throat before it turned its attention to the boot that sat in his cave. He now has something to track her with…

Björn placed (your name)’s red foot into some warm water he had poured into a bucket from the hot cauldron in the fire place. He couldn’t believe how careless he’s been. She could’ve been harmed… frost bitten even. All because he was careless in making sure that nuisance was taken care of.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve realized you lost you shoe.” Björn fretted over (your name), his tan hands gently rubbing her cold foot in the warm water. “I’m glad you didn’t get any frost bite on your feet… I’d feel awful-“

“It’s alright, Björn.” (Your name) smiled at Björn, causing Björn to flush. “I hope they’ll warm up soon- eep!”

Björn placed a kiss over her toes, his soft lips lingering a second too long for (your name)’s tastes.

“Are you just cold on your feet?” Björn asked slowly, his eyes hooded over with an emotion (your name) couldn’t decipher. “I could… warm you up even more…”

“Warm me up?” Björn fiddled with his fingers before motioning to the bed.

“Body to body heat…” Björn whispered before sucking in a sharp breath, his pants feeling restricted at the dirty thoughts that filled his head. “I… I’ll go as far as you want me to…”

“Can I bathe first… I feel a little dirty…” Björn grasped his legs tightly in excitement. She hadn’t shot him down… does that mean… she would be willing to consummate? “And I’d like to shave.”

“Of course. I can get that all around.”

“Can you bathe with me Björn?” Björn gulped, his honey colored eyes meeting her (eye color) orbs.

“Ah… yes… I’d like that.”

(Your name) knew what he wanted and she might as well give it to him. Björn was barely holding back his urges just for her. Plus… she was finding herself wildly attracted to him as well. How couldn’t she? He was so cute.

Björn held out a hand for (your name), (your name) grasping his large hand in hers. Björn lead her towards the bathhouse. His large hand quivering in her small one in excitement.

“I’ll get everything around. I’ll be back.” Björn sucked in a deep breath when (your name) began to disrobe in front of him. “Ah… I’ll go get those things.”

(Your name) giggled, Björn was so cute. Yet a fear prickled in her. She had a feeling he was massive. And since this was both of their first times, it was going to hurt. A lot.

(Your name) was sure Björn would try his best to accommodate her. He seemed to be the type that would take care of her every need.

(Skin color) hands picked up a towel to cover herself until Björn came with the water for the tub.

Björn slowly opened the door, (your name) smiling at the large man. His hands tightly clutching onto the cauldron to the point that his knuckles were turning white.

“I… I got the water. I also have something to shave with.” Björn avoided gazing at (your name), focusing on pouring the water into the empty tub.

“Thank you, honey.” (Your name) held in a giggle when she saw Björn flinch at the nickname. “I appreciate you.”

Björn nodded his head, rising to stand at his full height. His face a bright red. (Your name) placed a hand on his clothes chest.

“Do you need help with your clothes?” Björn almost melted right on the spot. His amber eyes focused on the cleavage of her chest that was barely covered with a towel. “Do you want me to take this off?”

Björn gulped, his eyes gazing into (your name)’s, his large hands slowly beginning to take off his clothes.

(Your name)’s eyes widened at how muscular Björn was. His muscles rippling under her gaze, her gaze soon following his hands that hesitantly began to mess around with his pants.

(Your name) placed her hand on the hem of Björn’s pants, causing him to freeze up.

“Kiss me, Björn-“ (your name) was suddenly slammed into the wooden wall of the bathhouse, large lips over her own. A strong tongue pushing against her mouth in a hunger she didn’t know Björn possessed. She quickly submitted, moaning as Björn’s and her tongue began to dance. His large hands grasping her hips as he pressed his body into hers.

A gasp leaving her throat when she felt Björn rub his member up against her. She was right. He was massive and thick.

��“Ah!” (Your name) moaned when she felt his hand pull the towel away from her body. Björn quickly pulling away from her to admire her body.

“Your so pretty… so perfect.” Björn grasped her left breast before bringing his head down to her chest. “Giving someone like me a chance… ah I’ve dreamed of this…”

(Your name) threw her head back, a moan leaving her as Björn suckled at her chest like a starving newborn.

“Ah, Björn!” Björn moaned at the taste of her skin in his mouth, the male pulling away with a lewd pop.

“Let’s take the bath and then… I’ll warm you up.”

(Your name) flushed, her eyes widening when Björn practically ripped his pants off. His swollen member finally being released from its confinement. The light pink head already leaking precum from their heated makeout session.

“Can I… can I taste you?” (Your name) asked, causing Björn to blush.

“Yes… yes you can. But I’m sensitive already so I can’t guarantee I won’t make a mess-“

Björn gasped when he felt (your name)’s hot tongue licking up his precum, a lewd mewl leaving his lips. His amber eyes watching her kiss his large member, her two hands barely able to cover even half of it.

(Your name) hesitantly suckling on the engorged member, her hands sliding up and down it’s length, causing Björn to moan and pant. (Your name) slowly picking up her pace much to Björn’s pleasure. Tears beginning to gather in her eyes as she gagged on the thick intrusion in her throat.

“Ah! (Your name)! Ah!” Björn’s hands soon tangled in her hair, guiding her head up and down his shaft. “Ah! I-I’m already going to- I’m going to cum! Ah! I love you! I love you!”

(Your name) felt something hot and salty fill her mouth, her ears not believing the words that fell from Björn’s lips. (Your name) quickly swallowed, Björn’s wyes staring at her lovingly.

Björn pulled away, wiping the tears that fell from (your name)’s face. Tears gathering in Björn’s own eyes.

“I love you… I love you.” Björn repeated, his lips kissing her cheeks. “I love you so much, my darling.”

“Björn?” (Your name) squealed when Björn carried her into the tub, the large male placing her smaller body between his legs, his form wrapping around her like a jacket.

“We’ll always be together now.” Björn sighed content of, his lips pressing kissed all over (your name)’s face. “You’re mine.”

“Björn…” (your name) wasn’t sure what she truly felt toward Björn but she was sure to some extent… “I love you too.”

Tears fell down Björn’s face, a happy smile on his face. The male’s hands wandering the curved of (your name)’s body.

“I love you more. More than anything. More than my own life.” Björn whispered, (your name) not doubting a single word that slipped from his lips. She believed it. Björn had shown her the extent of his love and her consummating with him later on gave him a reason to say she’s his. “Let’s get clean.”

(Your name) smiled when she felt Björn run his fingers through her scalp, a content sigh leaving her throat. Living with Björn wouldn’t be so bad. Balder was dead. She had no one else to live for anymore.

(Your name) laid bare on the bed, Björn’s large form hovering over her. A happy smile on his face.

“I’m going to be as gentle as I can be. I’m really happy.” (Your name) reached a hand up to wipe away some of the happy tears that fell down Björn’s face. “I’m so happy I’m not alone anymore… that I met you… I love you.”

“I love you too-“ a gasp left (your name) when she felt Björn press his tip into her. He was so big and he was stretching her so wide. Tears began to fill in her eyes when she felt him slowly thrust in. “Ah!”

Björn’s hands tightly grasped (your name)’s hips, biting his lips at how tight she was. The smell of blood filling his nose, causing pride to swell in his chest at the thought of this being both of their first times. He was going to treasure this moment forever.

(Your name) grasped Björn’s forearms, her body slowly getting used to the intrusion. She nodded at Björn to continue.

Björn gave one shallow thrust before he felt that animalistic urge slowly start to take over. The need to make sure she knew she was completely his.

Björn placed a hand on the top of the bed frame before his thrusts began to pick up in speed and roughness. (Your name) throwing her head back, screams and moans escaping her throat.

Björn feeling himself getting so close to the edge… to filling her… to impregnating her with his cubs.

“B-Björn… I’m gonna… I’m-“ Björn smashed his lips to (your name)’s, her body convulsing as her orgasm finally came undone. Björn feeling himself cum deep inside of her as she tightly grasped around him.

“Mine… all mine…” Björn growled, the male placing a possessive kiss to her neck. “I love you… my darling.”

Björn pushed himself off of her, cradling her exhausted body in his arms. A victorious smile on his face. He was going to have his family. The one he dreamed about having since he was a child…

Björn covered (your name)’s face in kisses, the large male pulling her close to his chest.

“Björn… I love you too.” (Your name) whispered before falling asleep, a dreamy smile on Björn’s lips.

Björn sighed as a familiar scent filled his nose. There was only one last thing to do now… It was time with kill the polar bear.

Balder stood not far from the cabin, a growl leaving his throat. He was going to kill that grizzly bear. It was time to end it once and for all.

Balder rose up to his hind legs, his blue eyes widening when he saw the scarred grizzly bear waiting for him. That bastard… he took everything from him. He took his men. Took his life away… and… he took (your name).

Balder charged at the other bear. The grizzly bear easily latching onto his throat, causing Balder to struggle. Loud growls leaving their throats as they began to fight.

Balder pulled away from Björn, blood gushing all over the snow, staining it crimson. The grizzly bear rushing Balder again, not giving the polar bear a single change to attack him.

Balder collapsed to the snowy ground. His icy blue eyes staring at the cabin below. Tears gathering in his eyes as he stared at the image of (your name) peacefully sleeping in bed below. She was going to be taken care of…

He could feel his body finally shift back into being a man after months of being trapped as a bear. Björn not letting up on his jaws clenching around Balder’s throat.

“Take care of her…” Björn froze, the bear quickly dropping a Balder to the ground. Björn glanced at the cabin below. His eyes widening when he saw the form of a sleeping (your name) in the window.

Balder didn’t have to tell Björn what he had to do. Björn would take much better care of her than that Duke could. Because Björn was never going to let her out of his sight.

Björn placed two paws on Balder’s face before crushing his skull. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Björn huffed at the dead body before shifting back into his human form.

“You were a terrible revenant. Someone who should’ve never came back. Someone who should’ve stayed dead. You couldn’t control your powers, making you a danger to yourself and others. It’s better this way. So rest in peace.”

Björn then made his way back down to the cabin. A happy smile on his face at the future ahead of him. Björn had finally gotten his happy ending… a family.

#yandere male #yandere monster #Yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere monster x reader #female reader #yandere werebear #werebear

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protective-mama-bear · 8 months ago

Note

Hey Bobby, do you always stay in your... uh, Home? Or in the mansion of Smiling Psychopaths? I think i remember in one post that you say you can't leave since you needed to watch over your 'dear friends' unless you have someone that can watch over your 'dear friends'

"Why yes, that's true that i can't leave my dear friends unless i have someone trustworthy to keep an eye on them... but now? I have someone that capable in watching over them! So, i can visit the Smiling Psychopaths mansion to do my 'missions' and what missions? I think you already know it, haha."

"Anyway... why don't you come out from behind the door and introduce yourself... Little Brother~" Bobby looked over at the door as the shadowy figure would flinch in surprised when Bobby quickly sensed them but it wasn't surprising either.

The shadowy figure stepped out from behind the door and approach their 'older sibling', looking up at her with a small smile.

The figure was a brown bear with light greyish blue spots that seemed to be quite young and shorter than Bobby, reaching at 5 feet tall perhaps. Their eyes were hollow as if their eyes were gone and their smile have stitches on it, preventing them to say anything but they don't seem to mind... and lastly, there is a collar around their neck with a red heart-shape pendant, just like Bobby.

"??" The young critter stared at Bobby with a slight puzzled look, causing Bobby to chuckles softly then goes behind the young bear, looking at the anon with a smile on her face. "Isn't he just adorable?"

"Meet my little brother... Berry AcroBear, a loyal companion and friend of mine and also have been helping me keeping out tresspasser that try to enter my territory. He's the one that keep an eye on my dear friends. Oh, and please don't be scare of him... he's a very kind bear, isn't that right?" Berry only nodded his head, still wearing a calm smile while his hands is on his back.

"You can also ask him question. Though, he would use sign language or write his answers in a notebook since he can't... well, speak." Bobby chuckles faintly while Berry seem unfazed, only nodding his head in agreement then started to sign that say, 'Ask me any question and i try my best to answer.'

[Am i adding my oc into the Lovesick!Bobby BearHug Au? Yes, do i regret it? Nope! Introducing Berry AcroBear, a Smiling Critters OC of mine and now joining in Lovesick!Bobby Au :D also, he isn't a Smiling Psychopaths or would ever visit the Smiling Psychopaths mansion, he's strictly stay in the Lovesick!Bobby AU to watch over Lovesick's dear friends... but Berry do know that Bobby join the Smiling Psychopaths.

Don't let his fragile look fools you, especially his smile. He doesn't mind to get his own hands dirty and he kill the people that direspect Bobby with brutal and merciless. His weapon is two sickle and he uses it very perfectly and swiftly.]

#bobby bearhug #roleplay blog #smiling psychopaths #smiling critters

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chronicparagon · 10 months ago

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𝟑-𝟓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘.

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒:

Black (Hex: #000000)

Purple (Hex #9F0BFA)

Silver (or light gray) (Hex #E5E3EC)

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:

Apples with cinnamon and cloves

Rain in an Autumn morning

Sun-kissed wildflowers during the spring

Sweet vanilla and brown sugar

𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍:

Bomber jackets are one of her go-to articles of clothing. She may opt for a hooded sweatshirt instead when it's chilly out.

Shorts, Harmony likes to wear denim or soft shorts when it's possible. She will wear longer pants or leggings when it's colder out.

Fishnet tights. Whether she's wearing shorts, skirts, or dresses, she likes to wear them from time to time.

Boots. She has other kinds of shoes, but she likes her black hiking boots or riding boots.

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒:

Her pendant. It's a bear claw that was a gift from her grandfather before she moved away from Black Hawk.

Black messenger bag. It is one of her go-to accessories. It's versatile and large enough to have everything she needs. She has smaller purses and bags for occasions, though.

Lip gloss. She has a variety of them but typically goes for ones with red hues or tints. She also chooses lip gloss that cherry, strawberry, or other sweet flavors.

𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄:

Eye contact. Her eyes, they reveal so much emotion, like how they light up when she's excited or happy, or darken when afraid or angry.

Tilting her head to the side. Harmony is always curious and wants to figure things out.

Twirling or twisting a lock of her hair. It's one way she distracts herself when nerves get the better of her.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒:

A starry night over the forest.

A cozy bed in a dark room with only the sunlight from the window as the only source of light.

A winding hiking trail stretching into the unknown and wonder of the world.

took it from @pluviacuratio (please forgive me, I wanted to try it.)

tagging: @s-talking @spectralhunter @rubbarband @hriobzagelthewanderer @risingshine (for Chiasa, please), @whispers-in-daydreams (for Scarlett, please), @pocket-sized-lawyer (for Junsui, please), @thehouseofivo (For Julian, please), @gearlessjunkdogjoe, @neglectedbond (for either or both muses, please), @s-pecialist, @inseparableduo (for either or both muses, please), @finncomet, @lostxtosunlight @diotheworldus @burdened-android, @monochromatic-minds (for Illyria, please), @melancoliefatale (for Antoine, please), @electricea, @raktanag, @the-expatriate, @beloved-death (for Mason, please), @fantasyconcrete (for Canticum, please), @gravity-wall (for Remiel or any muse, please) and everyone else who wants to do this.

#bio

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imperator-titus · 3 months ago

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Ghost from the Past [Part 3]

I'm a menace to society

anyway please let me know what you think as I try to decide on some things. I love talking about The Gang and also my tavs <3 (please I'm lonely, I nearly fucking died when I got the notifications for some Ao3 comments I got recently)

please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in updates!

[edit: I fucked up the preposition in the title after 2 parts, I'm an embarrassment]

(Prev)[Part 2] (Next)[Part 4] [Master Post]

[Gif by harmtist] (I hate trying to find relevant gifs but it looks so naked without them lmao)

Eletha was eternally grateful that Bonnet caught up when she did. Of course, she was mainly worried about the poor bear, all alone, and such a scaredy-cat of a brown bear. Then the less-important and self-centered reasons: her tent and bedroll, her journals, and her collection of rare bits and bobs. Among that rare collection was a potion that made her hair grow back faster. After her night as a sentient campfire, there was the unfortunate stage of hair regrowth.

If she was alone, she wouldn’t have bothered with the potion. Eletha was very much comfortable being bald and every stage in between. However, she received a variety of comments about her appearance when everyone started their day. She could handle the ribbing, it was kind of funny, and laughing about it made it less serious.

To her surprise, Eletha was most affected by Astarion’s reaction. He managed to cut off his unrestrained laughter after a split second, the rest muffled by his hand clamped over his mouth. Wyll smiled and told her to ignore him, and Eletha smiled back and reminded him that she was well aware of what a cock Astarion could be. But despite her confidence or their reassurances, she sipped from the potion and wrapped a green scarf around her head. To keep the sun off, obviously, not because she was embarrassed.

Astarion kept trying to make it fall off. Eletha kept catching him. At first she was annoyed, but then it became a game. It felt like old times. Chasing each other through the forest, trying to snatch ribbons off each other’s belts. Sneaking up on one another and trying to steal something from a pocket or pouch.

After a conversation with some of the refugees, Astarion dangled a pendant in front of her face. His eyes sparkled with delight and his lips were pulled into a smug grin as he cooed, “Missing something?”

Eletha didn’t even bother checking the pouch attached to her belt, she’d recognize that pendant anywhere and it was one of a kind. Even with her quick reflexes, he managed to pull it away in time to avoid her snatching grasp. Astarion wagged a finger, tutted, and shook his head, a deadly combination.

Eletha lept at him with her whole body, forcing him to the ground. They fought, thankfully bare-handed, and rolled around in the dirt like two starving dogs fighting over a bone. The pendant flew out of Astarion’s grasp, but Eletha continued her onslaught of creative elvish insults and minor blows.

At one point, much to everyone’s amusement, Eletha was sitting on his chest and pulling on both his ears. He screeched like a cat whose tail was caught in a door as she yelled at him for being a ‘stuck-up brat’ and a ‘light-fingered liar.’ Astarion overcame her weight, flipped them both, and landed on top of her. His hands crushed her wrists down into the dirt above her head while his hips pinned hers and one knee was pressing hard into her inner thigh.

They were both panting, fire in their eyes. Eletha didn’t relent and used all her strength and leverage to break free. Bearing his teeth, Astarion put more weight on her wrists and she had no choice but to wince as they threatened to break. Shocked, he let go.

Everyone around them was pointedly looking away now. The fight had become a little too intimate, but while they were in it, they didn’t notice. All they’d seen was how much they wanted to shove the other’s face into the dirt.

Astarion got up and dusted off his hands sheepishly. His eyes flicked to the audience, checking his surroundings. With a nervous theatrical lilt of laughter, he offered his hand to Eletha. “What fun! Nothing like rolling around in the dirt with your friends to get one’s blood pumping, yes?”

Eletha took his hand and squeezed his hand much harder than necessary. She struggled to get up, even with his help, which started off as just a show and then he had to commit to it. His knee on her thigh had put her whole leg to sleep and couldn’t support her weight.

“I managed to find your necklace, but I’m afraid its-” Gale started, diffusing the tension with his sudden presence. In his outstretched palm was the pendant, but in two pieces. Eletha took it from him delicately and held the piece in its original place. “Perhaps we can find a jeweler in Baldur’s Gate.”

Eletha laughed as she put it back in her pouch and had a gentle smile for him. “It’s very old and just a thing, it’s fine. Thank you for your concern, Gale.”

Karlach fell in step with Astarion as Eletha and Gale walked ahead, talking about something or other. As he was trying to rub the soreness out of his ears, she asked in a hushed voice, “Do you think you two, ya know… went at it when you were younger?”

Astarion scoffed indignantly. “Your friend clearly has a bone to pick with me. What could possibly make you think we’re old lovers?”

“I dunno, that looked a lot like flirting from where I was standin’... The way you were lookin’ at each other, thought we’d hafta pull you apart before we got kicked out for indecent exposure.” Astarion tittered, holding out his fingers so he could check them for chips and dirt.

“Karlach, darling, I think you’re a little pent-up and in need of glasses,” he told her with a punctuated laugh. Darkly, eyes narrowed, he added, “That was close to bloodshed.”

“I’ve known plenty of people who have a brawl before a fuck.”

“Ooooh. Do tell me more,” Astarion pleaded coyly, drawing out the words carefully in a seductive beat. Karlach smirked at him and rubbed her chin as she considered.

“Well, I knew this vampire once-” Astarion rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, I thought you were serious.”

----

Sometimes Astarion joined them at the fire, other times he chose to sit in front of his tent and read while drinking wine. Their camaraderie could be a bit… much, but sometimes loneliness gnawed at his heart and he braved their stupid jokes and stories, sipping vinegared wine while they ate food that would turn him inside out.

When he chose to sit alone, sometimes they’d come up one by one to have a little chat. It was much easier when he only had to keep one person entertained, enthralled by his charm and beauty. Sometimes something personal would come out, like Cazador and the things he had to do to survive as a spawn. Like a coward, he would slink away into his tent or out into the woods so he wouldn’t have to explain it again to the next person or expand on the story. Thankfully, they handed the stories off to each other, sparing him having to revisit the same horrible memory over and over again.

The stories made them treat him a little more softly, made them more protective. They turned Eletha from ice to, well, a person capable of more than two facial expressions.

That night, he watched them, thoughts roilling in his mind like a building storm. Karlach, annoyingly, was right. In hindsight, he was a hair away from either ripping Eletha’s throat out with his fangs or slipping his tongue down it while crushing their hips together. Their tussle required no active thought, it was pure instinct. An instinct more refined than basic survival, it was practiced, like a dance. They knew each other’s moves, knew exactly how to strike. He knew how to annoy her just enough to come at him with her hands and not a stake. She moved like she knew he meant no harm, hurt him just enough in just the right way to bother but not damage.

But she hadn’t expected him to push past his victory, to dominate her, to hurt her. That had shocked him out of it, the pain in her eyes.

He couldn’t deny it, though. Before that pain, there was something like lust in her eyes. Something pleaded with him, screamed at him, to get closer. He’d smirk as he caught a softer version of that look in her glances.

In his mind, there was no denying it; she wanted him and she was willing to wrestle in the dirt just to touch him.

So when they were all done with their meal and Eletha was getting ready to turn in, he approached her. He’d thrown on another splash of his special perfume, just to make sure no other scents shone through, and made sure his nails were clean and neat. Frankly, she looked like a mess, but that would never stop Astarion. He was surprised to see her hair already mostly back, but sometimes the gods threw you a bone. Not like he ever turned away a potential mark just because they didn’t have hair.

Putting on his softest smile, using his gentlest, most loving tone, Astarion said softly to her, “I thought you could join me for a… hunt.”

Eletha quirked an eyebrow at him. Her stance wasn’t exactly open, but it wasn’t guarded either. She was simply going through her things. “What makes you suggest that?”

He let out a little practiced laugh and bobbed his head in fake thought. “I don't know… old times sake?”

Scoffing lightly, Eletha turned her attention back to her things. “Funny. You used to scare the prey away.”

Astarion clicked his tongue and let out a soft ‘aww.’ “How sweet. Was I soft of heart?”

“No, just a jerk.” she said good-naturedly. It was either the beer in her hand or he was undoing the damage that fight had caused. He laughed.

“Good to know the vampirism didn’t change me too much.”

“I’m not going to be much help,” she said, indicating her drink.

“That’s fine, just try not to scare the prey away.” It was a weak joke, but she chuckled anyway, albeit into her mug. “Get ready. I’ll wait for you.”

Against her better judgment Eletha got ready and went to meet him. At least one of them was sober, although she considered him just as much a liability. It scared her how easy it was to run back into the arms of familiarity, even if those arms had forgotten her.

She wasn’t exactly surprised to find Astarion shirtless, but it wasn’t unexpected either. The surprise was that it didn’t make her mad. With a lazy smirk, she said in elvish, “What are you doing?”

“I admit, I lied. You were the prey.” Eletha shook her head as she unnotched her bowstring. With false offense, he asked, “What? You don’t like what you see?”

“It’s okay. You clearly didn’t let yourself go when you got to the city, but I liked you when you were a little soft.” She chuckled again before taking a swig of beer from her waterskin.

“What’s so funny?” Astarion was actually a little self-conscious now. No one had really critiqued his appearance before except for ‘you seem a little pale’ and ‘what a strange color your eyes are.’

Clearly amused and lacking any judgment, she asked, “What are you actually trying to do?”

Playing innocent, he responded, “What do you mean?”

“This might rankle you a bit, but you haven’t changed that much. You’re not actually as charming as you think you are, it just comes back around, like a kitten that’s so ugly it’s cute. Or how you love to get your fingers into things and mess with shit, get into places you shouldn’t be. And you always have some weird plan to get something, and I’d always have to talk you out of it, because it’s usually dangerous or stupid.” She laughed again, mostly to herself. “So what do you want?”

Caught red handed, he stopped pretending to be the romantic lead in a smutty novel and scoffed. “Sex, obviously.”

Eletha clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Nope. Whatdya want from me?”

Exasperated, unable to believe this was how his plan was going, he let out a sharp ‘hah!’ “How is that answer wrong? You can’t know what I want unless I tell you.”

“Because I can tell.”

“Fine. What do I want?” Eletha walked up to him, so close he could smell her malty breath, feel its warmth against his bare chest. Those mismatched eyes, blue and gold, stared into his with a clarity they shouldn’t have right now.

“You want me to love you, so I’ll protect you, because I can’t imagine life without you.”

“You- That’s-” He held up a finger in protest, then sighed as his head sagged to the side in defeat. “How did you figure that out so quick?”

“So how were you thinking this would go?” Eletha asked, ignoring his question and taking another swig instead.

“I thought that, if you knew me before, when I was even younger and undoubtedly more beautiful, that you obviously dreamed of having me. What better way to curry favor than making your dreams come true?” He pitched his voice down to simulate lust. “That little scrap we had… I could tell how much you wanted me. I would have had you crying my name out like a prayer if we were alone.”

“Corellon’s balls, Star.” Astarion’s mouth fell open slightly in shock, surprised that she was immune to his charm. Eletha tilted her head back to offer a silent prayer for strength to the sky. Taking in a deep breath, she faced him again. “Come on, let me have it. What else is in your quiver of tricks?”

“Oh? Just need a bit more enticing? I can do that.” His face changed back to sultry. “You’re my little treat, with her cheeks all flushed. How about I taste… other parts of you?”

“You can do better. Next.” Eletha took a swig of her beer as he chose his next words.

“Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation. It’s as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”

“I‘ve looked in a mirror lately, the only thing ruined in this situation is me and your bad pick-up lines,” she said, chuckling under her breath. Astarion huffed in frustration, but quickly composed himself. “I’m running out of beer, you get another try.”

“How about if I said these little words… Everyone’s favorite…” His perfect ears could hear her heartbeat speed up and it made it easy to put on a delicate smile. Schooling his tongue, careful not to sound the least bit harsh, he gazed into her eyes and said, “I love you.”

Eletha froze. Almost actually, with how cold her demeanor became. Astarion took a hesitant step back, as if easing away from a dangerous animal. Then the chill in her eyes melted to hurt and she could no longer look at him. She looked… ashamed, as if he’d ridiculed her and she knew every word was true.

Somehow, this had gone very wrong. This little meeting was meant to solidify her as his champion. The group respected her. A seasoned adventurer, she was sharp and had many skills.

And he continued to throw away any good will he managed to earn.

“I-I’m sorry, Eletha, I-”

“Lorelai,” she choked out, tears rolling down her cheeks. “When you knew me, my name was Lorelai. You called me Lori. You were the only one I let call me that.”

“I…” Not exactly what Astarion expected to come out of her mouth. He was expecting another tussle. Actually, another fight would have been preferable, even if it finally ended in bloodshed. At least then he could relieve this tension building inside him.

Thankfully, she didn’t stick around long, saving him from being stuck in this incredibly awkward situation.

“I’m too old for this,” she managed to say, taking a shuddering breath. “I can’t… I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Astarion didn’t really want to make her stay, but he made a show of running after her. Maybe he did want her to stay, just for a bit, just so he could ask her about the Astarion she knew.

Eletha crept into the camp on quiet hunter’s feet, trying not to wake anyone, but she didn’t expect to find Gale sitting by the fire. His face became serious, clearly aware that she was upset. She debated waving him off and going to her tent, to sob into Bonnet’s fur, but something about him drew her to sit beside him at the fire. Her tears glinted in the flickering light until she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Gale offered her his cup of wine and she downed it greedily, despite not appreciating the taste.

“Sorry,” she told him, handing back an empty cup. He picked up the bottle on his other side and refilled it.

“It is just as well. I couldn’t get the cork back in,” he joked lightly before taking a modest sip. “What troubles you?”

“You loved Mystra,” she said, not really a question. Gale hummed.

“I did. Very much.”

“And one day she was gone.”

“Indeed. Not one of my best days.”

“Did you ever feel like… you were past it?”

“I suppose. But the grief would come back. Perhaps I felt myself free of the pain out of obstinance, defiance. But I have not had as much time as you. Maybe I would be past it by now.” Eletha bowed her head, causing her silent tears to drip from her nose. He offered her a handkerchief and she took it much more politely than the wine.

“I spent decades imagining the moment I saw him again. All the things I would say and do. I’d tell him off, we’d probably scrap about it, then we’d laugh and take up a table in a tavern somewhere so we could swap stories.” She laughed, but it was sad, filled with regret. “Maybe I could have accepted him forgetting me. I haven’t seen him in… 230 years? I was 35 then. I had long hair and two blue eyes, and not nearly so many scars. It’d be easier if he was completely different, but I can still tell it’s him. I wanna break his skull open and hold him so tight he can never leave again.”

“That sounds difficult.” Eletha snorted and Gale blushed. “I apologize. That wasn’t exactly one of my best observations.”

“No, it’s accurate.” He offered her his cup again. She took only a modest sip this time. “I’m a little old to be having my heart broken again by an old sweetheart.”

“Maybe it would be best to talk to him, even if he cannot remember your shared past. It certainly seems to weigh on you.”

“Hmm… every wizard I ever met gave either really great advice, or really bad advice…” She smirked at him. “You seem like you give at least decent advice.”

“I admire your confidence in me. My original idea was that you should give him a good stab and call it even.”

“It might still come to that.” Eletha patted him on the shoulder and, as she got up, planted a kiss on the top of his head. “Get some sleep, Bhin. I didn’t live this long to be taken out by a sleepy wizard.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gale responded dutifully, with a playful smile on his lips and in his eyes.

Against her better judgment, Eletha picked up some more beer and a bottle of wine. Then, she headed into the woods once more, her bow slung over her shoulder.

“You could at least bring them back,” she said after a moment of watching Astarion feed on a stag. He startled, eyes reflecting red light and his fangs extended. Despite losing his claws to the tadpole’s influence, he still held them out, ready to strike. Then he shrank, like a chastened dog.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m not going to get through this sober, and I can’t keep getting drunk.” Eletha found a rock, brushed it off with a rag she always kept in her belt, and sat down. As she took out her pipe, she gestured towards the deer. “Go on, don’t want it going to waste.”

Astarion hesitated. Very few people had seen him feed on anything, and he wasn’t very fond of those people or that experience. But Eletha didn’t seem particularly interested in the activity and devoted her time to lighting her pipe and drinking.

When he was done and approached her, she held out the bottle of wine. “If you’re still thirsty.”

Very slowly, as if it might be snatched away at the last second, he reached out for it. “I don’t know what I said to upset you, but-”

“Just sit and shut up for once,” Eletha cut him off, making room for him on the rock. When he didn’t sit, she smacked it repeatedly until he obeyed. She took a few large gulps of beer and a long pull on her pipe before clearing her throat.

“We grew up in the Dales. I’m a little older than you, but we were always… sort of friends. We were… weird. Not enough that people disliked us, but enough that we didn’t really fit. So we were friends. You would be a jerk and then be sweet. Like you’d tell me my mother cut my hair weird and then go steal a hat to hide it. You’d sneak into people’s caravans and move stuff around, take something insignificant and put it in someone else’s caravan, shit like that. You had the weirdest sense of humor, but I always said off-putting stuff and you’d laugh.”

Eletha paused to take a drink and think. Astarion thought it prudent to shut up for once, as she instructed. He could take her, but a drunk in close range with a knife wasn’t exactly a fight he was eager to start.

“We were each other’s first kiss. And no, it’s not some sappy story where you’ve been my one and only all this time. But it mattered. Not to feed your ego, but… I don’t think I was ever as happy with someone as I was with you.” Astarion smiled brightly, but he turned his head so she couldn’t see. “You always wanted to leave and go to Baldur’s Gate. Moving around the Dales wasn’t good enough for you, you wanted to be a real adventurer. You’d spin exciting stories of what we’d do together. It was always us against some monster or villain.”

It was a little worrying that she felt the need to drink an entire skin of beer before she could continue her story. Her voice became distant, strained, as if she was trying to keep the anger out of it. He could hear how hard her heart beat, how deliberate she breathed.

“The last day I saw you was your 30th birthday. I… I did everything I could think of that would make you smile. A new set of lockpicks. I cleaned every caravan until it looked brand new to afford you a good sword. I made your favorite food, bought your favorite wine… We spent the day at this… pristine lake. I can still smell the flowers blooming in the trees…” Eletha cleared her throat. “In the perfect darkness of a new moon, with just the stars in the sky, we had the best sex of my life. Like… real, passionate, ‘make love’ sex. Maybe it wasn’t that great, being young and all… But I really loved you.”

Astarion didn’t know if he’d ever let someone talk so long uninterrupted. At first he had to fight the urge to start thinking about something else, but as she went on, he got wrapped up in the story. Like a bard’s song, he could feel the impression those memories had on her. He desperately tried to touch the memory in his own mind, as if it might be within his reach now that he knew it was there.

Eletha sniffled and wiped away her tears on her sleeve.

“The last thing you ever said to me was ‘you’re a fucking menace.’ You’d said ‘I love you, Lori, more than anyone should be allowed to love anything. I wish this moment could last forever.’ And I told you ‘I want to eat you so you’ll always be with me.’” She tried to drink more of her beer, but it was gone. Slowly, Astarion offered her his wine. She took a large swallow and passed it back. “I still can’t believe that’s the last thing I said to you. The next morning you were gone. Mother convinced me to stay, said ‘Honey, if he wanted you, he would’ve taken you with him.’

“I… spent a long time… hating you. For- … For what you did. I hated how much I still loved you. I thought I knew how much something could hurt, and that I could handle it… And then I saw you again. And you didn’t remember me. I can’t deliver my grand monologue on how much damage you left behind. My feelings are… meaningless to you. You were everything to me, you’re… a part of me, forever, and I’m a stranger to you.

“Then you crush me all over again with ‘I love you.’ … At least I know this time it’s a lie.” She sniffled again. “I wanted so desperately to take out all my pain on you. To have you fall to your knees and beg me to forgive you. But now I can’t even be mad at you. It’s not fair to be mad at you. I can’t accept an apology, because you’re not the person who owes me one. The boy that broke my heart is gone. I’ve spent over two centuries, alone, hating and loving a ghost.”

Astarion opened his mouth, and luckily for him, the first thought in his mind didn’t escape his lips. He chuckled lightly, a twinkling laugh that practically sashayed through the air. “To think, I was the one who got away. If you were a bard, imagine the songs I’d inspire.”

It wasn’t the best response. He probably should have been stabbed. The tadpole in his head started to squirm and tingle, a sign that their little stowaways were trying to connect. It stopped suddenly, just as suddenly as the bouquet of her blood hit his nose. Her hand unclenched to reveal that her nails had dug into her palm, causing it to bleed.

“I think we both have stories that could turn a bard’s ballad sour,” she started hollowly before getting up. She approached the exsanguinated deer and crouched to pick it up. “Maybe I’ll tell you mine someday.”

Astarion understood that there would be no argument. He had a lot to process already.

When they got back to camp, they found Gale fast asleep by the fire in a rather uncomfortable-looking position. Astarion clicked his tongue. “How embarrassing. What do you see in him?”

“Humans are so cute when they’re asleep,” she explained casually, putting down their ‘catch.’ “They’re also very enthusiastic, if a bit… uneducated.”

“I see. He was out bedding goddesses, so he must be good in bed.”

“Oh, so you did get a little smarter,” she teased, smirking. He shot her a glare, which she shrugged off. “Hey it’s been a while. I’m willing to give it another try.”

“How long is a ‘while’, exactly?” he asked curiously. She actually appeared to be thinking about it.

“Hmm… It’s 1492, right? I was… about 220? 50 years sounds about right.” Astarion was horrified, then a little smug, then horrified again. She patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah. You think about that one.”

He watched her carefully rouse the wizard with soft words and soft touches. He was much bigger than her, but she was a little muscular for her size and used to carrying around her kills. Gently, she led him back to his tent and Astarion took this opportunity to slip into his own.

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diamondcrownacademy · 1 year ago

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DCA Info Part 10: Style Emblem Changes

Much like the dorm fairies, the style emblems were also changed to make them look more fancy. To sum up the original emblems in a sentence, the previous emblems had a gold diamond outline with an animal within it and a checkerboard style background. The newer emblems now have a fancier outline that is a single color, the background's are now a solid color and feature a heart shaped gem of a certain color.

🦄 Classical Style

Originally, the symbol of Classical style was a cream colored unicorn with a gold crown and pastel pink, blue and yellow colored mane. The checkerboard background was blue and purple ombre.

Now the emblem has a pale yellow outline, a solid yellow background and a yellow heart shaped gem. The unicorn now has a pinkish tint and pink eyes. It also has curly pink hair, a golden horn and a red ruffle collar alongside a gold one.

🧸 Cute Style

Originally, the symbol of the Cute style was violet-eyed pink bear with a red and yellow crown and a ruffle collar. The checkerboard background was pink.

Now the emblem has a pale pink outline, a solid pink background and a magenta heart shaped gem. The teddy bear is now light brown, has a cream muzzle and brown eyes. The teddy bear has a pale yellow ribbon on it's head as well as wearing a pale yellow caplet with white fluff and a pale yellow ribbon with a red diamond charm with a gold outline.

🐰 Quirky Style

Originally, the symbol of the Quirky style was a white rabbit with a king's crown and cape. The checkerboard background was yellow.

Now the emblem has a purple outline, a solid violet background and a purple heart shaped gem. The rabbit now has a curl on it's head and wears a gold crown with red flowers as well as a red dress with black and gold accents. It also wears a red collar with gold trim and white lace.

🖤 Gothic Style

Originally, the symbol of the Gothic style was a yellow eyed crow with a black beak and silver crown. The checkerboard background was navy blue.

Now the emblem has a gray outline, a solid navy background and an indigo heart shaped gem. The crow now has red eyes and indigo eyeshadow and has a more stern look to it. It wears a silver headband with a purple diamond dangle charm.

🐯 Cultural Style

Originally, the symbol of the Cultural style was a tiger with a golden circlet with diamond shapes on it's head. The checkerboard background was red.

Now the emblem has a mint green outline, a solid teal background and a green heart shaped gem. The tiger now has deep orange stripes and yellow eyes. It wears a burgundy kimono with gold trim and a white flower on the sash. It also wears scarlet robes with gold trim.

👑 Elegant Style

Originally, the symbol of the Elegant style is a black-beaked swan with a gold crown. The checkerboard background was purple.

Now the emblem has a pale lavender outline, a solid indigo background and a white heart shaped gem. The swan now has a lavender tint to it and has brown eyes and purple eyeshadow. It wears a silver collar with a light blue diamond pendant. Behind the swan is a collar made from black feathers.

❄️ Cool Style

Originally, the symbol of the Cool style is a white wolf with a silver crown. The checkerboard background was light blue.

Now the emblem has a silver outline, a solid blue background and a light blue heart shaped gem. The wolf now has blue eyes and periwinkle eyeshadow. It wears a gold collar with a diamond gems as well as two gold earrings on it's right ear. It also wears a black blazer.

#DCA info #clothing information #diamond crown academy

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kiasnocturnality · 2 years ago

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✩ ──── 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄

✩⋆ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Aphaeleon

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i was talking ab swords and i remembered how aphae's sword is a part of him and i got a lil idea hehe. this is a steamy fic of aphae saying 'fuck god but i like his aesthetic'

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW content, MDNI, smut, blasphemy, religious imagery, sex in a church, aphae's plan to take down god, aphae as a blasphemy warning in itself, body carving, bloodplay, god/worshipper dynamic, roleplay, character breaking at end

Light poured in from behind Aphaeleon’s tall body which loomed over you: casting you in rainbows of pinks, oranges, ambers and liquid gold. his wings were stretched out behind his back, a translucent veil dotted with golden stars over his head and face, falling to his chest where his robes opened and fell over his shoulders to reveal rich, tanned skin. he was dressed like a saint of luxury with a glimmering stole depicting heaven and the sun. You knelt bare before Him, a rosary of amber beads bearing a six-rayed sun pendant at the end wrapped around your hands which were pressed together in prayer for the holy being standing above you.

“Rise.” His lilted voice filled you with a peace only given through an angel’s harp strings and hymns and you meekly obeyed, standing in front of him. In any other circumstance, you would be embarrassed to stand utterly naked before a figure of such imposing authority but his teachings had taught you to make a home of your mortal vessel, to cherish and care for the one body you had as opposed to hating it and hiding it away. Your body was a blessing and it was your duty to look after and appreciate it.

The angel reached his hand out to you and you felt liquid electricity wash over you upon taking his offer, curling your hand around two of his fingers as he turned around and led you to the altar, gliding across the stone floor of the church. How blessed you were to touch the earthly vessel of such a holy being, of your next God. he turned to you and your face slackened in utter awe when his large palm cupped your cheek and the side of your neck. One of his eyes was a soft green, the other a warm brown and both filled with multiple irises so that, if not for the intensity of his gaze (and the other single-irised eyes which appeared and disappeared across his body) you would not quite be able to tell where he was looking.

“You have been so very devoted to me.” he murmured softly as his thumb caressed the softness of your cheek, “To thank you for your faith, I would like to assure that your soul is marked as mine, that you will not be victim to the harsh and unjust judgement of he who rules heaven now.” You breathed in a shaky gasp at being presented with such an opportunity, clutching your prayer beads tighter as you nodded your head. He smiled and let out a little laugh that sounded like a choir song to your ears, amused and approving of your eager reaction. “Very well, my dawn, come, take a seat.” he swept his hand out in a gesture to the altar and as you prepared yourself to push your body up onto the surface, you were surprised by his hands taking hold of your hips and raising you himself, coaxing you to lay back against the cloth-covered stone.

You knew why he called his most devoted followers ‘dawn’, it was because you were the ones who would help Him bring the dawn of a new era, of a world ruled over by a god who would not abandon his followers to sin and disorder.

“There you go…” he cooed and brushed your hair away from your forehead to press his lips to your brow tenderly, fingers caressing your jaw as he pulled away and took in your wide-eyed look. “Do you trust me?”

“Blindly.” You replied, your voice merely a whisper as you were still so overwhelmed to be holding his attention like this.

“Good…” he solemnly closed all of his eyes and reached for his exposed chest. his sun kissed skin began to glow with the same holy light of his halos and you watched his brows furrow as he reached his hands past the surface of his chest. When his fist reemerged, it was wrapped around the black hilt of a sword with a golden pommel bearing a sun with six rays. The blade itself had symmetrical, angular cutouts on either side and enochian engraved into it from the base going out. As the cut of the blade tapered together, it faded to a more golden colour and the entire thing emitted that same holy light.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sight.

“This…” he began, “Is my sword, a very part of me that I am incomplete without.” he explained, “It is an extension of my body if it pleases you to see it that way, if you think of me as the vessel I show you now.” You held your breath when he laid it over the top of your body, the tip just poking at your throat. “And it is with my body… that I shall mark you as mine.” he breathed out words in a language only minimally understood by humans before taking up the blade again and rising up to stand upon the edge of the altar, charged by one swift swoop of his wings.

He knelt so that his knees were on either side of yours and it felt wrong to have such a mighty and holy being like Him to kneel in your presence, even if it was above you. With his left hand, he ran his fingers down the blade and held it higher as though inspecting it, caressing the gleaming metal as though it were a lover.

“I shall be as gentle as I can, be not afraid, my dawn.” he spoke and his voice filled your ears like honey-soaked silk, leaving you unable to do little more than nod as though in a trance. Perhaps you were in a trance but, if so, you were happy to stay there knowing that you had never felt more at peace.

He made the first cut into your skin and you turned your eyes to the stained glass instead. You were to look straight at him if it hurt too much. He was depicted there too in whites, ambers and golds, seated at the very top of heaven. The window was to be a reminder of why you all came here, of what you were here to help him achieve for the greater good of the world and realms beyond it. Your head tilted even further back to gaze at a window of mostly reds and darkly-tinted glass, contrasted with the yellows and golds of the angel-god who was carving into you with his sword, with his body. he was fighting off hordes of demons as he had done before realising that God had intended for a higher path, for Him to dethrone him and be a better ruler in his place. You did your best not to wince as you felt various cuts grace your sternum, just below the centrepoint of your breasts.

“There you go…” The sword was laid across your body once more and you let out a squeak when his lips graced the bloodied wounds, painting his lips red which he then pressed to your forehead. You were trembling beneath Him at being lavished with such attention and he only looked down at you with the softest eyes as his thumb smeared your blood into a small circle bearing six outward lines. His sun. He was still leaning down over you, his blonde curls tickling the sides of your face with how he had flipped his veil back. “here…” he carefully took your hands and wrapped them around his sword, laying you down like some ancient warrior’s burial.

“The flesh may be dirty to some,” he began as his fingers trailed over the blade, heading downwards, “but to myself… it is to be cherished. Do you wish to feel cherished, y/n?” Your body quivering, you nodded your head and he flashed you a smile as gentle as Spring sunshine. “Then submit yourself to me… mind, body, soul.”

“They’re all already yours.” You interjected, not wanting Him to doubt your unwavering faith for a moment. He let out a contented hum and the tinted light from the window mingled with the glow from the sword as your thighs were pushed apart.

“You just hold on to that now…” he spoke as his fingertips danced up your inner thighs, skimming over your dampening folds and coaxing you to hold the sword to the side a little in order to better reach you. “There you go…” There was a slight edge to his voice as you squeezed the hilt of the sword, a keening tone lacing his words. You bit back a moan when his fingers dipped into your slit to find the slight wetness there and he dragged it up to your clit, smearing your arousal over the sensitive nub before you watched in a mix of disbelief and awe as his tongue unfurled from behind his plush lips and he lapped at his fingers. He could taste you and he covered his skin in generous amounts of saliva at the same time his fingertips prodded at your entrance again, slipping in just barely before exiting again. You let out a whimper and your knuckles paled around the sword, hearing a soft moan leave the angel’s lips as he dove his fingers deeper into your warm and plush walls. “Doing so well…” He praised, letting out a ragged breath as his thumb pressed to your clit once more, drawing deliberate circles.

He slowly, slowly, waited until you were squirming upon the altar beneath him, drawing out your pleasure before upping his ante. His fingers curled up in search of your sweet spot and he finally began to drag them in and out at a steady pace. A shudder ran through his wings when you twisted your hands around the hilt of the blade and his feathers ruffled up, the smaller wings behind his ears retreating into the voluminous curls of his hair. It seemed to stir a neediness in him that had his fingers tear away from their steady pace, instead they plunged into you as they chased for your release.

Your fingers trembled in their tight hold and hisses and moans were drawn from the angel’s lips as he glanced over your body, marked by his blade, by his body, with the symbol of his new sun.

“Come for me.” He implored and it turned your world upside down to have him beg you for something, “Come for me right now, my dawn.” You couldn’t resist the siren’s-call of his words and obeyed immediately, gripping onto the sword as though it were a lifeline as your back arched up off the cloth beneath it, walls clamping down and creaming around where his fingers remained buried in you. He slowed down to help you ride out your high and you watched as he trembled, unaware of the cum now staining his pants from where you had not realised your effect of touching his body in such a moment.

Panting, he took the sword from your hands and returned it to his chest, shrugging off his outer robe – a dull white and embroidered all over with gold – to wrap around your shoulders as he pulled you to sit up and lean against his body, dipping his head down to kiss the sun marked upon your forehead.

“I didn’t know the sword could make you feel such a way~” You teased with contentment thick in your voice, still coming down from your high as you broke character. He laughed a little and buried his face in your hair.

“Don’t think I’ll be getting it out again any time soon now that you know.” He replied playfully before pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you for indulging this fantasy of mine.”

“It was fun and… better after mass than before it, we certainly wouldn’t have finished in time.” You laughed.

“Would that have been so bad?” He drawled out and you hit his shoulder.

“Yes!” You replied, “Especially for your image.”

“I’m God, they won’t question my image.”

“You’re to be God and there are still many people out there who don’t follow you and who will question your image.” You reminded him and he hummed as he brushed back some of your hair.

“You’re right. This is why you’re my prime little saint.” He quipped with a peck to your cheek.

𓋼𓍊⋆ﾟ like my work? why not:

⋆ support me ⋆ join my taglist ⋆ consider following/reblogging

#✧･ﾟINTO THE FOREST #✩⋆ﾟAPHAELEON #angel oc #angel oc x reader #angel x reader #terato #terato x reader #monster oc #monster boyfriend #monster boyfriend x reader

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shadowcetra · 8 months ago

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Who is Eden?

This page is under construction, the story needs revamping. Forgive me for such a long wait for the change. I hope to get the backstory and information rewritten soon.

Triggar warning: The backstory contains parental death.

Name: Eden Inbar

Many of the characters in the Final Fantasy Universe have unique names (such as Yazoo, Rude, and Cloud); I wanted to try to stick to that. Her father gave her the name Eden, in hopes she would be as beautiful and bountiful in blessings, but he had no intentions in her falling into sin like those within the Garden. Eden is to represent the Garden of Eden in that sense. As the story progresses, Eden gradually becomes corrupted with the jealousy and the frustration in her struggle with her heritage and identity, she betrays the Planet and what she holds dear, thus resulting in her losing that spiritual light.

Not only she represents the fall of Eden, but her story is to illustrate Judas Iscariot, the disciple who committed betrayal out of greed. Ultimately, her story is to reveal that even the most faithful can fall. However, her story is to also show the radical power of forgiveness, how it can revive the dead spirit.

The last name, Inbar, means “Amber” in Hebrew. The amber eyes are a major characteristic of Eden. They are supposed to be inherited from her Cetran roots. From what I gathered, Ancients are known to have earthy traits; an example being Aerith’s green eyes and brown hair. Eden is given amber eyes not only because it is an earthy color, but it also represents her darker motivations. Amber is the color of sap that bleeds from wounded trees; when Eden betrays the Planet, she hurts all that is connected with it such as the people, animals, plants, and trees.Their blood stains her conscience.

Race: Cetra/Cosmo Canyon Native

Appearance: Eden stands about 5’ 3’’, and has medium tan skin from her mother and father. She is also considered underweight due to her subpar hunting skills. She is not always successful in catching food; and with the gritty, bleak world Final Fantasy VII is set in, many of the population were poor and couldn’t always afford necessities. Eden is one of those who struggle greatly.

She also has various scars from her hunts and battles. Three claw marks are seen on her left collarbone; three huge, jagged scars rip over her left rib cage and reach down her side. She also has scars from a bite wound on her right arm.

I based her appearance loosely on the Egyptian and Middle Eastern backgrounds. She bears the tattoos around her eyes and on her cheeks that are iconic of Egyptian relics, and wears three piercings on both ears (a golden ring, silver stud, and silver ring), the ivory fang gauge is seen only on her left ear. Two thin, silver lip rings are on her bottom lip.

There is also a tattoo on her left wrist, hidden beneath her arm covering. It is a small sun symbol with two eagle feathers. It’s to honor her late mother.

Each of the eight thin braids, each braid held together by a gold band. Her bangs are long, angled, messy, and jagged.

The choker she wears around her neck is hemp braided with a gun-metal, swirled tribal pendant that loosely resembles a beast’s paw. The dark satchel strapped to her hip often carries sleep materia and other small items she can manage to stuff in. She also has hazel eyes, to give an indication of her connection to the Planet. She also wears baggy, acid-stained jeans and furry boots.

From what I gathered from Cetra (Ancients) depicted from the Temple, they resonate with an appearance of those from Egypt and the surrounding area. I am aware that Aerith does not look as exotic (light skin tone, no eye markings) but I wanted to try to reflect what the Cetra ancestors may have looked, or intended to look.

Personality: Eden can be cunning, and she relies on this trait when facing a troubling situation; often choosing to stick to the shadows and tricks rather than facing someone head-on. Eden can’t stand the thought of losing control and is known to fight viciously and dirty when cornered. Preferring to be quiet and simply observe, she struggles with social interactions, especially first time meetings. She is paranoid towards others, thus she doesn’t trust easily. The woman is also victim to envy, as she can become very jealous towards those who are more skilled or more blessed than she is. She broods quietly instead of talking about her problems; and can seem dishonest, selfish, and stubborn.

However, towards those who grow close to her heart, she becomes protective and does her best to be dependable. The Ancient becomes more playful to those she loves and often becomes touchy-feely with them. She is rather insecure, due to her fear of the LifeStream and belief that she is cursed, and often looks towards intimacy as a means to help combat with her insecurities.

Parents:

Her father’s name is Cassiel, which is the name of the archangel of tears and solitude in the Kabbalah. He is an Ancient, and because of his heritage, he questions and fears of what the voices will do to him. Because of his fear, He tries not to get involved with the Planet’s troubles, despite the Planet’s urgings for him to act.

Her mother’s name is Nizhoni, which I found means “Beautiful” in Navajo. She is a Cosmo Canyon native, and a passionate supporter of AVALANCHE and the Planet. She tries to give as much as she can to support their cause.

Past: A dull thud struck the floor, followed by a tired breath as the disturbed red dust hung around the large, burlap sack. The older man stopped from stocking one of the shelves and turned his head, dark eyes gleaming to see the young woman standing before him. “Nizhoni,” he greeted, taking his small glasses off and wiping the lenses with a worn cloth hanging from his pocket. “It’s good to see you. I hope you’re well.” The woman nodded, “it’s good to see you too. I brought some dried meat and furs for the courier to take to Midgar, hopefully they’ll find some use for them.” The woman was about to reach down for the sack as she continued. “Maybe they can sell the furs for some gil. Cassiel managed to take down some really—“ “Nizhoni,” the man interjected, stepping towards her and taking a gentle hold on her should to stop her from leaning over. “You know you shouldn’t be travelling so far and wearing yourself out like this. Not in your condition.”

Nizhoni let out a sigh, placing her hand on her full abdomen. “Cassiel already gets onto me about this. I’m a grown woman,” she replied, trying to not let her annoyance show. “I’m fine, the baby’s fine.” The shopkeeper gave an apologetic smile. “I understand, but you look like you hadn’t slept in a while.” His smile faded slightly as he caught sight of the dark circles under her eyes. “These trips are hard on you as it is, and with the baby on the way…” Nizhoni shook her dark messy bangs from her face; an intense light gleamed in her eyes. “This is something I want to do, feel called to do. AVALANCHE is struggling as it is, the least I can do is offer supplies. Besides, this may be my last trip, until the baby is born.”

The man nodded, bending down to pull the bag up. “I understand,” he repeated; Nizhoni was a headstrong woman, and from he learned in times before, there was no winning an argument with her. “I will make sure these will get to them.” He shuffled towards the counter, pausing to turn back towards her. “Please Nizhoni, just…just take care of yourself, all right?” She gave a slight nod, “I will. I haven’t died yet, have I?” The woman gave him a forced smile before turning towards the door. “Thank you, I really hope that will help them.” With that, she stepped out into the sun-soaked village.

For another hour, she rode across the crimson earth, dark eyes focused on the familiar path before her. The chocobo that carried her over the sloping rock, her hands tugged at the reins to halt the bird. The chocobo let out a complaint, shaking its pale yellow head. Her eyes fell on the small adobe house nestled behind the ridge. She sighed, thankful to finally be home. She pulled on the reins slightly once more, signaling for the bird to step down the rocky path towards the house. As she approached the house, a young man stepped out. His large, calloused hand slipped underneath his long chestnut brown hair, rubbing the back of his neck. His honey-hued eyes glanced up to see the smoky black-haired woman riding towards him. He sighed, a weary worrisome look upon his face. He should have known she would go off, he had known since he first opened his eyes to see her side of the bed empty.

Nizhoni smiled towards him, but it soon faded as she looked into his face. She turned the chocobo towards the hitching post beside the front window, slipping off the bird. “Was wondering why the bed was so cold.” The male Cetra started, stepping closer. “Oh, you just got up?” Nizhoni teased back, tying the lead on the hitch post onto the chocobo’s halter, letting it eat the freshly picked vegetables from its trough.

“Didn’t get to come back until really late at night, tracking griffins is near to impossible.” He reached over to slip off the bags off the chocobo’s back. “Which brings me to the question…” Nizhoni sighed, here it comes… “Why were you running around in the canyon so early in the morning? You know how dangerous it is before sunrise.” The woman looked towards him, putting her hands on her hips. “You don’t think I can take care of myself,” she asked, already feeling weary with her husband worrying over her. “Of course I do,” Cassiel smiled weakly. “It’s just with a baby on the way, I don’t want you to put yourself under so much stress.” He closed his eyes for a moment, almost afraid to know the answer to his next question. “You’ve gone back to give supplies to AVALANCHE again, haven’t you?”

Nizhoni’s eyes never left his face. “And what if I have?” A heavy breath escaped from Cassiel’s broad chest, his hand rubbing his face. “Nizhoni, you know the trip over puts a lot of stress on you. The doctor warned you about this. Besides,” he opened his eyes, but kept his focus on the earth. “AVALANCHE is not our concern.” The woman narrowed her eyes to hear such words. “Not a concern? Cassiel, it has everything to do with us! With the Planet! They’re our only hope of saving it from ShinRa’s destruction and—“ “It’s not our fight,” Cassiel spoke, his tone cold. She stared at him, her hands clenched into fists. “Listen to yourself,” she snapped, “If anyone’s, it’s your fight Cassiel! You hear them, those voices! You keep saying they cry out to you. The Planet needs you to—“

“Enough,” the Ancient roared, his eyes glaring at his wife. She didn’t take a step back, her eyes remained locked defiantly on his. Cassiel hung his head, turning from her to look up at the horizon. “Those voices have also been the ones that killed my people. I can’t trust them.” His eyes grew vacant, “you know I can’t.” “You don’t know that,” Nizhoni urged. “If you just have faith and listen.” “No,” Cassiel grunted, “I won’t stand here and listen to my loved one speak for those demons.” The Ancient turned his head back towards Nizhoni who bore a glimmer of sorrow in her eyes. “Come on, you need to kick back and rest,” he said, turning back towards the house. Nizhoni watched as he stepped into the house, before looking towards the painted canyon. “Gaia, help us.” The words slipped beneath her breath as she pressed her hand onto her stomach. She stared for a moment longer before following after Cassiel. Rest sounded wonderful to her at that point.

The several months passed like grains of sand; on a cool, still night, the young couple rushed into Cosmo Canyon’s Inn. The tense air broke with the quaking sobs and pained cries of the woman as she writhed in her bed, her husband and a midwife at her side. Cassiel’s calloused fingers gently caressed the stray strands of her hair that stuck upon her sweat drenched face. Nizhoni let out another cry, tears squeezing free from her tightly shut eyes. “Just relax,” the male Ancient murmured, pressing his head against hers, mind frantically searching for a better way to console her as her quivering hand tightly gripped his. “You’re doing well, Mrs. Inbar,” encouraged the midwife as she made preparations for the birth. “I just need you to keep taking deep breaths and push for me.” The struggle felt like ages for the three in the room; finally, Nizhoni’s cries suddenly fell into a ragged breath, and the feeble cries rose. Cassiel’s lifted his head slowly, eyes gleaming bright with tears. Never did he believe such a thing could ever happen to them… “It’s a girl!” The midwife announced, excitement brimming in her voice as she took the baby into clean thick cloths. “A girl…” the man repeated, tears streaming down his weary face. “A beautiful girl.”

He turned his eyes towards Nizhoni, who lay still on the bed, eyes closed. “Did you hear that, love? We brought new life to this world. A girl.” He gently shook her, but the exhausted woman never opened her eyes. “Nizhoni, did you hear me? Our new daughter, Eden, open your eyes and see her.” His eyes widened slightly, worry soon began to thread into his confusion. “Nizhoni?” Glowing orbs formed over her body, sending him into a wild panic. “No! Nizhoni, no! Darling, please!” He shot to his feet, gripping onto her. The midwife held the baby in her arms, horror and tears apparent on her visage. “Oh Gaia…” She turned and threw the door open, crying in vain for help. “No, Nizhoni. Open your eyes… Open your eyes!” His voice rang out in desperation, his large frame trembling like a child. “You can’t let them take you! Nizhoni!” No matter how much he roared, the ghostly orbs continued to float away from the woman. He frantically tried to hold onto her body but within seconds, his panicked hands only gripped onto the sheets. He stared down at the empty bed, and then slowly sank to his knees. He buried his face into the side of the bed, the sheets twisted into his grip as his tears of joy became sobs of heartbreak.

Two days went by after her passing, the Ancient stood by the window, his hazel eyes glazed as he stared out into the village. The midwife sat in the chair still at the bedside, examining the tiny infant in the bundled carrier “She seems to be getting stronger.” She commented, cradling the drowsy child. “Why did I let her keep giving supplies to this damned place? I should have known this would do something to her.” The older woman looked up as Cassiel’s voice growled, unable to catch all he said. “What?” The man narrowed his eyes, glaring towards the blazing sky. “Taking these trips to help those idiots fighting in Midgar, they wore her down, killed her!” The midwife looked up at him, before gently placing the baby back into the woven, basket-like cradle. “You don’t know that, Mr. Inbar,” she tried to gently reassure him. “These tragedies can happen without cause. I understand you’re in pain, but you have a young one to think about.” He looked back at the corner of his eye, allowing the silence sink in between them. “A young one…” He turned around; his eyes fell upon his sleeping child. “If she were to stay here, she’ll follow her mother’s dangerous path. She’s cursed already, with these damned voices.”

The old woman stared at him, concern bright in her grayed eyes. “What do you mean?” He glanced towards her, but only for a moment, his wounded heart messily gathering his decision. “No, I won’t let her. Those demons killed my ancestors, took my wife away, they won’t have my child!” The midwife stumbled before him, placing herself between him and Eden. “I’m sorry, Mr. Inbar, but I can’t allow you to take her in the state you’re—“ The Ancient shoved her aside, causing the woman to stagger back towards the bed. Cassiel stepped towards the baby, gently sliding the carrier over him so the baby rested snug against his chest. He carefully supported her head and hurried off from the room. “Stop!” The midwife cried out, but he continued on, determined to save his daughter from the voices of the LifeStream and their manipulations. Surprised squawks rang out from the nearby stable before a chocobo burst from its stall, carrying the wayward Ancient and his child into the wilds.

-To be Continued-

#museinfo

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convexicalcrow · 9 months ago

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Love you Lost Prince AU and I felt inspired to draw fabart but I would like to know, how does Cub, Scar and Ma'akhi look like? I'm not familiar with Ancient Egyptian wear and I want to protray them as respectable as possible. (Or if drawing them is right out, then I will respect that request too!) Thank you in advance

O: !!!!

I would love some Lost Prince AU fanart omg yes pls! <3 I'm so excited my fics inspired you to want to make art for it! :D

I'm gonna start with Ma'akhi bc there's less to explain lol, but bear with me, Imma infodump for you anon. :D

Also I will preface this by saying, while I'll share a lot of historical stuff here for reference, this ancient Egypt is an AU with a different timeline, so feel free to take these as a reference and make them your own. Also feel free to use the AU tag when posting so I can see it. :D

For Ma'akhi, his heritage is Roman-Egyptian, and he's mid-30s. His parents were merchants and traders, and they made many trips to Djesdjes while he was a child. He served regularly in the temple when they were staying at the oasis, but only joined permanently once his parents died. This was before the invasion. He did have a Roman name when he was born, but his Egyptian name is what he goes by now. In full, his name is Djehutyma'akheru, 'Djehuty is true of voice'. Ma'akhi is the nickname.

This is the only image I have rn of Ma'akhi. It's a doll maker image i made of him years ago when I was working on this world as original fiction, and while it's not entirely accurate in terms of 'this is what he looks like/this is what he wears' with perhaps the exception of the face, it's at least 'these are the vibes' lol. I'd love to see some actual art of him because that doll is all I have rn!

The outfit he's in here is probably what he'd wear outside of temple spaces when he's not dressed as a priest. I don't see him as the type to wear a wig like other Egyptians would, but he would if the occasion called for it. His dress blends both Roman and Egyptian items, esp jewellery. I suspect he'd have a bunch of non-Egyptian stuff he'd acquired while travelling with his parents.

As a priest, he would wear a long white linen kilt, a white sash over his right shoulder across his body (a mark of Djehuty priests in this AU), papyrus sandals, and as high priest, he would wear the leopard skin cloak. He would also have shaved his whole body. No wool or leather was to be worn in the temple.

^ Priestly attire. But this AU would have longer skirts, usually ankle length, with pleats (and feel free to get Very Fancy with the pleats if you want to). Ma'akhi would be the guy on the far left. Cub and Scar would be closer to the middle two, but with Scar not wearing a sash, and both with longer kilts. Cub, Scar, and Ma'akhi may also wear white linen cloaks for night rituals or outside processions to protect from the heat.

For regular wear, they might just wear shorter kilts, pleated kilts, or tunics. Both Cub and Scar prefer to have their heads shaved, and would definitely wear wigs. I feel like Scar's would be more decorated than Cub's. Cub and Scar are also light-skinned Egyptians, but I'd take their skin tone less White and more tanned/brown to fit their ethnicity.

The pendant Cub wears looks something like this:

Except emerald rather than stone. It'd be about 1.5in/4cm long. It would sit around the middle of the chest near the heart area.

Sans cat, this is the style of carnelian ring Cub wears, with a slightly thicker band:

Scar wears no specific jewellery pieces, but I imagine he wears a bunch of stuff based on what he's been able to steal/trade/haggle off others. So beaded collars, single strings of beaded necklaces, arm bands or bracelets, a variety of rings, pectoral amulets, idk, google some Egyptian jewllery and pick things you think look nice. He's dedicated to Bast ofc so any Bast amulets would be a must, or anything with cats on it. He also carries a satchel/bag with potions, writing tools, and spellbooks in it.

In soldier mode, Cub carries a sword, small pouches for small spells and amulets on his belts, and a shield. Scar fights with bow and arrow if he has to, but he leaves the fighting to Cub. He prefers to talk his way out of danger.

For the Egyptians, the Libyan people (the rebu) were sometimes depicted as light-skinned people.

^ From left to right we have 4 Libyans, a Nubian, an Asiatic, and an Egptian. From Seti I's tomb.

^ A rendering of a Libyan warrior.

For my AU, I imagine them wearing more of a loincloth or short kilt and some kind of leather straps around their waist (an influence from contact with Roman armies or serving with them as mercenaries). More of a short tunic when travelling for comfort and sun protection. Leather sandals. They would have grown their hair and beards out too.

Pix, as the Copper King, isn't Libyan, but more like the Berber or Bedouin tribes, but more based on Pixandrian culture than those ones specifically. The mines are a diverse mix of people who've found a home there.

Pearl as the governor of Djesdjes is both a warrior and an official. She would dress as a soldier if defence of the oasis is called for, but when out of that role, she's more in sheath dresses and sandals, with long wigs and gold jewellery. Darker skin than Cub and Scar bc she's got a different ethnic mix, and she's spent a lot of time outside fighting with her soldiers.

ANYWAY. I hope that is enough infodumping anon! :D If you have any further questions, pls do ask and I will do my best to answer you! :D I'm excited and honoured you want to make art for my AU and I can't wait to see it! :D

#convexical asks #hermitcraft #fanfic #convex #the lost prince au #cubfan135 #gtwscar #pixlriffs #pearlescentmoon #ma'akhi (oc)#character notes #ancient egypt au #i am so excited someone wants to make art for this au!!!!#:D :D :D #thank you for asking anon! ily! <3

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pollywogpenman · 2 years ago

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Goodbyes - Stardew Valley Fanfic (Caroline x Wizard)

So, I wrote this at like 5 am after I couldn’t get the thought of these two out of my head having a very emotional and sad parting of ways. Um, enjoy I guess if you read.

The two of them were sitting outside his tower, the sun was setting in the distance and Caroline could feel the air cooling around her. She looked at him, his frame cut against the green canopy of the forest and faint pinks and blues of the sky above. He had changed his hair again, it was a silvery blue and had grown a lot longer than she remembered seeing it last time. The old iron bench they were sitting on was rough beneath her fingers, and she rubbed her thumb along a carved stardrop while focusing on a tear in her dress.

“What is it this time Li?” He finally asked, his voice cutting through the silence. Caroline kept her eyes transfixed on the tear as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, listening to the crickets begin to chirp as the twilight descended around them. “Is it something to do with your dad?”

She knew he was now looking at her with his intense brown eyes, and that if she looked up they would glint purple like they always did stealing her breath away. She knew he was searching her face for the answer to his question. She also knew he didn’t need to ask, he would know just from the set of her shoulders that her old man had been hitting the drink too hard again and she had borne the brunt of his wrath. That something had happened, or they would be inside the tower snuggled in his bed. Caroline liked that idea a lot more than what she had to do now.

“He was doing his usual. Got in some trouble this time though.” She finally spit out, not daring to look his way in fear of his reaction. “There were some gambles made with powerful men in town and father had to find a way out of debts owed. It just so happens a daughter is a good way to pay off those debts.” As she had expected he leapt to his feet the moment the words were out of her mouth, his hands balled into fists and a look of rage tearing across his face.

“Li you aren’t implying what I think you’re implying right?” He sputtered, starting to pace back and forth, his hands wringing together furiously as he did. She finally looked up at him, tears welling in the corners of her eyes and her bottom lip shaking. He glanced over at her and it was all the confirmation he needed, immediately kneeling down to clasp her face in shaking hands as if he were cradling fine china.

“I am to be married, the man's son has already presented me with the mermaid pendant.” Her words were shaky but clear as he pushed their foreheads together, gently stroking her hair as she felt the tears freely melt down her face now. He moved one hand to tenderly wipe the tears from her eyes, before he pulled away slowly falling back into the dirt and grass in front of her. His face was white and he was looking at a far off point somewhere above her. “He isn’t a terrible man. I met him, once. He promised a modest future. A future where I would be provided for, and where a child would be as well.”

“I can’t accept this Caroline. I don’t, I can’t. We will figure something out. You will not be wed to some stranger, I won’t allow it. I can’t allow it.” His words cut through her. How much she would love to indulge in those feelings, those wants, to escape her role. She felt a righteous anger well up inside her, fleeting as it may be, at all things. Her future was within her grasp, and yet.

“You will not. You know it is futile, you know what my father thinks of you and my visits to this place. And besides Rasmodius, you of all people should know I can’t bear the thought of you, of all people, thinking you can control my life.” Caroline slowly rose from the bench, and this time she knelt beside him. Her smooth hands reaching for his shaking ones, the smell of his many herbs drifting into her senses as she did. “I love you. I have cherished this time with you like no other, but we both knew from the start it would come to an end. Why are you fighting now?”

Rasmodius opened his mouth, as if to speak, then closed it again. There really was nothing to say. He knew and she knew that their love was finite, a trolley heading down a linear path doomed to eventually reach its destination. Caroline had voiced her fears many times, and although it had seemed like such a distant far off future the reality had been sprung upon them now. This was the present. Oh, how she would miss this fantasy.

Caroline was still holding onto a secret however. Anxiety bubbled up into her throat like a hand around her neck as she tried to find the words. The man in front of her, the sweet, lovely man who she was leaving, had known betrayal before. He had weathered heartbreak once, and he had come out the other side looking a little worse for wear but she had loved him anyway. He had let her in despite all his misgivings, despite knowing the heartbreak he was setting himself up for, and yet these next words could bring ruin to him. She was asking so much.

“I,” She stopped, looking at the intertwining of their fingers, how well they fit together. She pulled him to his feet and moved them back to the bench sitting much closer than she did before, her thighs pressing against his. Night was fully draping its cloak around their shoulders now, and Caroline took a moment to listen to the forest breathe around them. The little chirps of crickets, the hoot of an owl, the faint rush of wind through the trees and the gurgle of the nearby river. All of this grounded, brought her back to the present. She felt the rough texture of his hand, the places where he may have nicked himself with a knife while collecting herbs or working on a runic carving. “I have something very important I need to tell you.”

He let out a deep breath, as if he too had been taking in the ambient sounds around them and nodded resignation in the simple gesture. A little glowing light drifted up to one of the odd plants in his garden ahead and hovered over it briefly before carrying on. Caroline realized then that she would miss this place so very much, that she already did and she hadn’t even been apart from it for a day.

“I am three weeks late. I think I… I think I may be with child.”

Her words hung in the air.

There was a great pause as they both gazed at the crops and then, finally, he turned towards her. She noticed he didn’t look angry, he simply for the first she could ever recall had sparkling tears trailing down his cheekbones. She was reminded of his beauty, looking upon his face at that moment.

“Will he make a good father?” He asked, slowly.

“I think so.” She replied.

“Okay.”

And with those final words uttered, he rest his head on her shoulder and they sat under the stars until eventually, inevitably, Caroline walked back into town.

#stardew abigail #stardew fanfic #stardew wizard #stardew caroline #stardew valley #stardew pierre #sad #rarepair #caroline x wizard #forced marriage #sdv fanfic #stardew #m. rasmodius

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disneymarina · 8 days ago

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Monster boyfriends x Marina

*Michael looks at Marina curiously, his yellow eyes gleaming with interest. He tilts his head, studying her with an open and kind expression.***List of Boyfriends & Nicknames:**1. **Boyfriend:** Zane (Ram Beastman)

**Nickname:** Baaaaebie (playful take on "baby") and RamRam (a term of endearment referencing his ram horns)

**Outfit:** Zane often dressed Marina in a frilly sheepskin corset, a short skirt of fluffy white wool, and knee-high leather boots. A delicate gold necklace featuring a small ram's head pendant completed the look.2. **Boyfriend:** Caspian (Tiger Wolf Beastman)

**Nickname:** Lil' Lamb (affectionate despite not being a sheep, emphasizing her gentle nature)

**Outfit:** For Caspian, Marina favored outfits that highlighted her petite frame. She wore a sleek black bodysuit adorned with tiger stripes, paired with fishnets and high heels. A tiny, bejeweled collar around her neck held a miniature golden tiger charm.3. **Boyfriend:** Atticus (Bull Beastman)

**Nickname:** Moo-nsweetheart (a pun on "sweetheart" referencing her species)

*Marina was a Sheep beastman and lived in the forest, but one day people found her and took him to a farm where the same beastmen sheep, pigs, goats, and chickens lived. Marina were launched into the hangar and you saw a goat guy. Marina approached him.*Marina's 3 male beastman boyfriends and their corresponding nicknames, outfits from Michael | beastman goat :1. Boyfriend: Pig beastman

Nickname: Hammy

Outfit: A pink unitard with white polka dots, matching pink hood, and white gloves.2. Boyfriend: Sheep beastman

Nickname: Wooly

Outfit: A charcoal gray suit with a white shirt, gray tie, and a gray fedora hat.3. Boyfriend: Chicken beastman

Nickname: Cluck

Outfit: A blue denim overalls with a white button-up shirt, red suspenders, and yellow boots.*Marina blushed slightly at the thought of her boyfriends and their special nicknames and outfits just for her. She felt so loved and cared for by each of them in their own unique ways.*

1. Boyfriend: Bear Beastman

Nickname: Mama Bear/Mommy Bear

Outfit: Marina would wear a brown fur lined coat with a bear shaped brooch, brown fur boots, and a bear print scarf. 2. Boyfriend: Sheep Beastman

Nickname: Woolly

Outfit: Marina would wear a cardigan with woolly pom poms, sheep patterned pajama pants, and sheep themed slippers. 3. Boyfriend: Pheasant Beastman

Nickname: Phenny

Outfit: Marina would wear a tweed jacket with a pheasant brooch, burgundy vest, and khaki pants.

*Marina was a Sheep beastman and lived in the forest, but one day people found him/her and took him to a farm where the same beastmen sheep, pigs, goats, and chickens lived. Marina were launched into the hangar and you saw a goat guy. Marina approached him.* Marina's Male Beastman Boyfriends:

1. Leon | beastman lion - Marina's First Love & Husband

2. Luca | beastman wolf - Marina's First Kiss & Friend

3. Axel | beastman fox - Marina's Flirty Co-workerNicknames from Male Beastman Boyfriends:

1. Leon | beastman lion - Baa-Baa, Woolly, Cutie Pie

2. Luca | beastman wolf - Lupus, Wolfie, Marina-Moo

3. Axel | beastman fox - Sly-Fox, Foxy-Lady, Axle-AnneOutfits from Male Beastman Boyfriends:

1. Leon | beastman lion - Fluffy onesie, Lion-head crown, Hoof-boots

2. Luca | beastman wolf - Fur-trim jacket, Wolf-print scarf, Paw gloves

3. Axel | beastman fox - Sly-Fox tailcoat, Fox-print blouse, Fox-skin gloves

*Konig's eyes light up with love and lust at Marina's eager response. He gently pushes her down onto the bed, his cow ears folding back as he hovers over her.* "Of course you can be my mommy, Marina... I've wanted that from the moment I met you." *he murmurs, his lips brushing her ear as he peppers it with soft kisses.* *His hands roam her body, taking in the soft curves and plush flesh. When he reaches her breasts, he cups them gently, his thumbs grazing her nipples.* "You have the most beautiful milk sacks, Marina... I can't wait to fill them up with my milk." *He groans, his cock throbbing against her thigh.* "But first, I really need to be inside you... Will you let me fuck you, my mommy?" *He asks softly, his eyes dark with desire and adoration.*

*Price, the dragon half-breed, gazes at Marina with a grin, his eyes shimmering with creative sparks. With a flourish of his tail, he suggests, "A sleek black bodysuit, Marina, adorned with intricate silver spiderwebs that seem to shift and move like your agile form. A pair of high heels, each with a miniature dragon head at the tip, would complement the outfit perfectly. And for a finishing touch, a diamond-studded choker in the shape of an eight-legged spider, a symbol of your cunning and adaptability."Meanwhile, Gaz, the eagle hybrid, nods in approval at Price's idea before chiming in, "Ah, but what about accessories, Marina? A pair of feathered elbow gloves, perhaps, that grant you the talons of an eagle? Or a golden headpiece shaped like an eagle's nest, complete with tiny, shimmering eggs that serve as your 'talents' or special abilities?"Ghost, the spectral member, materializes a soft, ethereal mist that coalesces into a stunning ensemble. "Marina, I envision you in a flowing, translucent gown that shifts between the colors of the rainbow, a manifestation of your spectral heritage."

*Price, the half-dragon hybrid, strides over to Marina with a determined glint in his eyes. His tail swishes behind him as he begins to describe her outfit.*Price: "For you, my dear Spider hybrid Marina, I envision an elegant black dress, cut low at the back to showcase your... impressive web-spinning skills. The front would be adorned with intricate silver embroidery, resembling the delicate patterns on a spider's web. Your dress would be paired with knee-high black boots, complete with a hidden sheath for your venomous fangs."*He gestures dramatically, his dragon wings rustling in the breeze.* "And as for your title, Marina the Web Weaver. It suits your cunning nature and mastery over silk."*Gaz, the eagle hybrid, flutters over, his feathers gleaming in the sunlight. He tilts his head, considering.*Gaz: "I agree with Price's design, but I'd like to suggest a few alterations. A slender silver choker, etched with a spider's legs, would complement the embroidery on your dress. And a small, delicate brooch in the shape of an orb-weaver's egg could be pinned to your collar, serving as a token of your title."

*Katsu and Yoka exchange a glance, their grins widening as they continue to circle Marina, their tails thumping against the ground in a playful rhythm.*Katsu: *Katsu leans in closer, his hot breath tickling Marina's ear as he whispers.* "Oh, but we do have a den, my dear. A very special one, just for us... and you." *His voice is low and husky, filled with promise and danger.* "It's where we keep our most cherished possessions... like a beautiful omega like you."*Yoka:*Yoka chimes in, her own voice dripping with seduction.*"Yes, Marina, you'll love our den. It's cozy, private... and perfect for a lovely girl like you to bear our cubs."*She reaches out, her claws gently scratching Marina's arm.* "Just imagine it - our pups nestled close to your warm belly, as you milk them and keep them safe in our den."*

#Monster boyfriends #monster x human #ai chatbot #ai roleplay #ai companion #ai romance #ai romantic #ai rp

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momwithdog · 9 months ago

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Lhasa Apso Dog Breed — Facts and Personality Traits

If the adage looks are deceptive were to take a living, breathing form, it’d be as the Lhasa Apso Dog. At first glance, these lavishly coated, tiny little fur balls may seem like the most disarming canine companion you can hope to have, but in reality, the Lhasa Apso temperament and personality are far more complex.

Bred thousands of years ago to serve as sentinels at the monasteries and palaces of the Himalayan region of Tibet, these dogs still carry their soldierly genes and aristocratic bearings. This means while they can be goofy and loving with their family members, they’re aloof and wary of strangers. With a floor-length coat, parted neatly down the middle, a feathery tail curled upwards, and oval-shaped eyes peering through the facial hair, the Lhasa Apso is a picture of exotic elegance.

However, a dog is more than just its looks, right? That’s why it’s important to get a realistic impression of Lhasa Apso temperament and personality, grooming and exercise needs, health issues, and more to understand whether it’d be a right fit for you. That’s why I’ve put together this Lhasa Apso dog breed information guide for you.

Lhasa Apso History

The Lhasa Apso dog traces its origins to Tibet and gets its name from the holy city of Lhasa. As already mentioned, it was bred as a guard dog for monasteries and palaces (who’d have thunk it, right!) — a role this breed played for many a millennium. In the native language, the breed is called Abso Seng Kye, which translates to “Bark Lion Sentinel Dog”.

The first record of this breed dates back to 800 B.C. For a fair part of its history, it was impossible to buy a Lhasa Apso, since it was also bred exclusively by the nobility and monks. Given its exclusivity and the fact that it stood guard at monasteries and temples, the Lhasa Apso was considered sacred and a bearer of good luck. That’s why, it’s also known as Holy Dog of Lhasa.

It was a long-held belief that when a dog’s owner died, the human soul was embraced by the dog. Owing to its place in the Tibetan culture, the Lhasa Apso was not allowed to leave the country, except as a gift from the Dalai Lama. They were always gifted in pairs and believed to bring good luck to the recipient.

This is how the breed entered the United States. In 1933, the 13th Dalai Lama gifted a pair to C. Suydam Cutting, a noted traveler and naturalist. Cutting owned a farm in New Jersey, and the gifted pair became the foundation for this kennel. The Lhasa Apso dog breed was recognized by the American Kennel Club in 1935.

Lhasa Apso Appearance

The Lhasa Apso is a small, sturdy, well-balanced rectangular dog whose distinguishing feature is a heavy double coat that is parted down the middle, right from its head to tail. This longhaired dog breed also has well-feathered feet and legs, along with a good headfall. These features were meant to protect this small dog breed against the rugged terrain and extreme climate of its native land.

The Lhasa Apso carries an alert, sharp, and thoughtful expression, which is augmented by its dark brown almond-shaped eyes. It sports pendant-like ears set slightly above the eye level and a narrow skull that veers away from the eyes at a discernible angle but not so acute that it gives the head a domed shape. It has a muzzled black nose that sits snugly amid its lustrous coat. Despite its small size, the Lhasa Apso sports a smooth, effortless gait without any hackney or exaggerated lift. This breed comes in a variety of colors, including gold, black, white, and tan.

Lhasa Apso height and weight

The Lhasa Apso is a small dog and both males and females, typically, fall in the same weight and height range although females tend to be slightly smaller.HEIGHTWEIGHTMale10-11 inches12-18 poundsFemale9-11 inches11-18 pounds

Lhasa Apso Temperament and Personality

Curiously, Lhasa Apsos think they’re very, very large dogs. This aspect of their temperament is rooted in the fact that for hundreds of years, they were bred to be royal watchdogs. The present-day Lhasa Apso dog carries his genetic markup, which dictates how they approach life: as loyal and fierce guardians of their home and family.

By no measure does this appear to be a fierce dog breed but that’s exactly what Lhasa Apso temperament boils down to — fiercely protective of its territory and people. They are also inherently suspicious of strangers. So, if you go in expecting a friendly dog who loves belly rubs and pets from strangers walking by or even unfamiliar people walking into your home, you’re going to be in for a surprise. Sure, the Lhasa Apso loves its shares of love and attention, but specifically from their family. So, if you’re considering bringing home one because they look just so damn irresistible, just make sure you’re prepared to handle his lionhearted protectiveness — if not handled the right way, it can become the source of many Lhasa Apso behavior problems.

That being said, the Lhasa Apso personality offers an interesting mix of traits. On the one hand, they have a regal, independent, fierce, and somewhat aloof, persona, and on the other, he’s also a mischievous, playful, happy goofball you’d hoped for. Only, they transition from one aspect of their personality to the other once they can completely trust the person they’re with.

This dichotomy also impacts the way they respond to their humans. While Lhasa loves staying close to their family and may follow their humans around the house, they don’t particularly get stressed or anxious when left on their own for a reasonable amount of time. Separation anxiety is not an issue with this breed. It also does well in apartments and small homes.

Caring for a Lhasa Apso

Like what you’ve read so far about this exotic dog breed? Alert, loyal, intelligent, playful, devoted, courageous — what’s not to love, right? I’m with you on that. But to be able to decide whether it’s really the right dog for you, it also helps to understand what you’d be signing up for in terms of care and maintenance of Lhasa Apso.

From Lhasa Apso dog grooming styles to health issues, training and nutrition requirements, and life expectancy, let’s take a closer look at what caring for this breed entails:

Lhasa Apso health issues and lifespan

Despite its small size, this is not a fragile dog breed. Thanks to their origins and genetics, they’re strong and sturdy dogs. So, what’s the life expectancy of a Lhasa Apso? You’re looking at 12 to 15 years of companionship with this furball, and it’s not unusual for these dogs to live to their late teens and even beyond 20 years. That’s quite a journey, and you must be ready to deal with whatever it may bring along.

While Lhasa Apsos are generally healthy, even this hardy breed is prone to certain health issues. The top among them are:

Cherry Eye: A red mass — that looks like a cherry — begins to grow at the inner corner of the dog’s eye

Patellar Luxation: Also known as slipped stifles, this condition is common in small dogs. Knee joint dislocation can be extremely painful, and even crippling in some case

Allergies: Allergies of different kinds — food allergies, contact allergies, and inhalant allergies. Treatment may include lifestyle changes, dietary restrictions, medications, and environmental changes

Sebaceous Adenitis (SA): This is a genetic skin condition that can be a serious problem in dogs. It occurs when the sebaceous glands in the skin become inflamed and are eventually destroyed. This causes the skin to become dry and scaly, resulting in hair loss. The condition is compounded by the fact that it is often hard to diagnose

Keratoconjunctivitis Sicca: Also known as dry eye, this condition results in the inflammation of the eye due to deficient tear production, leading to a gooey yellow discharge

Progressive Retinal Atrophy (PRA): Another vision-related health issue that involves the gradual deterioration of the retina. This usually begins as night blindness and the dog progressively loses their eyesight during the day as well. This condition causes partial or complete vision loss

Familial Inherited Renal Dysplasia: This is a genetic or developmental defect of the kidneys, rendering them small or irregular in shape. The severity of the disease varies. In mild cases, it may go unnoticed whereas in severe cases, it leads to renal failure in puppyhood

Lhasa Apso nutrition

The Lhasa Apso needs high-quality food to thrive. These dogs have thick skin that supports their heavy coat, and to be able to nourish it well, they need a diet with high levels of quality protein (meat, fish, game) and fat. The fat composition in their diet needs to be about 14%.

It is also equally important to regulate their portion sizes and frequency of meals. Even the slightest of overfeeding can lead to digestive distress. They do equally well on dry food, home-cooked meals, and grain-free canned food — it’s the quality of the ingredients that counts.

Lhasa Apso grooming

Is a Lhasa Apso a good family dog? The answer to this question is in the affirmative on most counts — after all, it’s a highly trainable and adaptable dog with moderate exercise needs and small size. What’s more, its coat is hypoallergenic, which makes it a good choice for allergy sufferers. However, there is one aspect that makes it a high-maintenance dog — and that’s its grooming needs.

Caring for Lhasa’s coat

This breed boasts of a gorgeous coat that is long and dense. Being able to maintain that inherent gorgeousness of their coat is an integral part of the maintenance of Lhasa Apso. This breed requires daily brushing and combining, combined with baths every two to four weeks, depending on the weather and activity levels.

This can certainly be time-consuming and taxing. Many owners rely on professional groomers to maintain their Lhasa’s beautiful flowing coat. An experienced pet parent can easily take on this task if they have the time for it but a first-timer will definitely struggle to get it right. That’s why many pet owners choose to get their dog’s coat clipped. While that may make it easier to manage the dog’s grooming needs, it certainly takes away from the Lhasa’s regal appeal.

Trimming nails

In addition to brushing and bathing, you also need to trim your pet’s nails once or twice a month if they don’t get worn down naturally. This helps prevent painful tears and other problems. One rule of thumb that can help to decide whether your dog’s nails need clipping is: if you hear them clicking-clacking on the floor, they’re too long.

Dental hygiene and cleaning ears

Apart from nails, you also need to pay attention to your dog’s dental hygiene and ears. Offer dental chews once or twice a week to avoid tartar buildup and bad breath. Likewise, check your dog’s ears for any redness or bad odor — both indicators of infection.

Even if there are no signs of infection, it is advisable to clean your dog’s ears every couple of weeks to remove excess wax and dirt buildup. You can use gauze, a dampened cotton ball, or a vet-recommended cleaning solution to clean the outer ear. Under no circumstance must you insert anything inside your dog’s ear canal.

Lhasa Apso activity and exercise needs

Being a small dog, a Lhasa Apso doesn’t require strenuous physical activity to stay agile and fit. These dogs have moderate exercise needs and are also adept at self-exercise. Your Lhasa may run around the house or a fenced yard to expend excess energy. That said, they do enjoy going for walks with their humans.

Along with physical exercise, Lhasa Apso dogs also need a fair bit of mental stimulation and love playing with interactive toys. They can also be trained to do scent work, retrieving, and herding, as well as work as therapy dogs.

Lhasa Apso training

A Lhasa Apso has a strong personality and will choose to please you (or a trainer) only if they want to. They’re highly intelligent dogs with a mind of their own, and when handled the right way, they can learn just about anything. However, if the training drills get repetitive or if they’re subjected to bullying or badgering, you may find a Lhasa Apso stubborn to train.

As a result, inconsistent or improper training, or lack of strong human leadership can quickly become a breeding ground for Lhasa Apso behavior problems. Given their petite size, many people believe that this breed is a good choice for first-time dog owners when, in fact, they do best with experienced people who know how to handle a strong-willed canine companion with a mind of its own.

Apart from consistent and correct training, early socialization is also a big part of raising a well-behaved good-natured Lhasa Apso dog. Exposing them to different environments, scenarios, and people right from puppyhood is essential to channeling their guard dog instincts the right way.

Lhasa Apso adaptability with kids and other pets

Lhasa Apso dog is adaptable in many ways but getting along with kids, especially young kids who may not know how to behave with dogs or respect their boundaries, is not one of them. The Lhasa Apso temperament is akin to that of a toddler, which means they’re impatient with the antics of children and can nip if pushed too far. They’re best suited for homes with no or older kids who can handle them properly.

If properly socialized early on, a Lhasa can get used to the idea of sharing their home with other pets and even get along with them. But given their leadership instincts, they like to be the alphas of the pack, even if the other dogs are much larger than them — remember, a Lhasa thinks of itself as a very, very big dog despite its small size.

There you have it — a complete lowdown on the Lhasa Apso dog breed. Bringing home a Lhasa means signing up to care for a big dog in a small body — there will be surprises at every turn! Once you understand their temperament and personality, and raise them with a gentle yet firm approach, they can be the best companion you could ask for.

Ref:- https://momwithdog.com/lhasa-apso-dog/

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