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swanimagines · 10 months ago

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Bastard and the Blood Princess [Chapter 7]

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The first rays of the Ravkan sun barely peeked through the curtains, when you heard shuffling and rustling through your dream, and you groaned.

“Get up,” Kaz’s voice gruffed, and you heard the click of a cane against the wooden floor, accompanied with a loud creak from the floorboard you cracked. “We need to be at Rotrov by sunrise tomorrow if we want to make it in time for the winter fete.”

You opened your eyes to see Kaz passing your bed with a scowl. He had by no doubt been awake for a while now, judging by how his hair was neatly combed. You actually weren’t sure if he had slept after all.

“What’s the time?” you mumbled, stretching as you slowly sat up.

Kaz took in a long breath through his nose. “Enough.”

You glanced at the creaking floorboard and then swung your legs over the bedside, stretching again. You then took out your folded clothes and started dressing yourself. You glanced at Kaz, who stood in front of a mirror. “We should probably compensate the innkeeper for that floorboard.”

Kaz was quiet for a moment and then turned his head towards you ever so slightly. “I tipped him generously for the coffee because of that. Despite the coffee being average at most.”

You grinned. “Aww, you went to have a cup of coffee and let me sleep in?”

Kaz scoffed, but didn’t reply anything past that. He was quiet again for a moment, adjusting the collar of his shirt, staring at himself from the mirror. As soon as you finished dressing yourself, he spoke again, “Go wake up the driver.”

—

Your driver hadn’t been happy to be woken up, he would rather have slept beside the naked reception lady for a few hours longer. He had only gotten up after you threatened to take his carriage and sell it. And now, with the carriage swaying and shaking a lot more than yesterday, made you certain that the man had been deeply insulted and wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be able to sleep during the day.

Not that you had even intended to try.

Kaz sat there, looking even more pissed than yesterday. He wasn’t able to lean on his cane while sitting unless he wanted to repeatedly knock his jaw with the cane due to all the shaking, and you definitely knew he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Judging by how his leather gloves creaked as he squeezed his cane, he probably used it as a stress reliever when being in the same room with you.

You knew it wasn’t part of your mission, but you couldn’t deny the itch of wanting to know why exactly Kaz hated your father so much - why his whole demeanour screamed he wanted to hate you too, simply for being raised by Pekka. Sure, different gang members and gang leaders often hated each other, it would have been weird if they were all on good terms, but Kaz’s hatred for your father was something much more than that. Especially when your father had no idea what was the problem, he only knew Kaz had grown to be a major menace and needed to be taken out.

Kaz stared at the floor and clenched his jaw, and you turned your head to gaze out of the window. The landscape slowly changed - the city of Kribirsk slowly faded into the background, houses becoming more sparse, less fancy. You approached the countryside.

“Behave yourself,” your father called out to you after he saw you waddling towards a squirrel. “I didn’t take you along to clown around like a fool. You’re a Rollins, act like it.”

A faint memory passed, from the time you were barely four years old and your father had taken you along to visit some relatives. That little town southeast of Ketterdam had been a day and half away from Ketterdam, you had been bored to death while sitting in that carriage all alone - you didn’t have books, no toys, nothing else other than your imagination with you. Your father had said it will make your patience better. He said he didn’t believe children always need toys to entertain themselves, but then Alby had been a different case. You had really only had your first touch in actual toys when Alby was a toddler and your father had you watch him for a few hours. Playing felt foreign and stupid, but you did wonder if it would feel different if you had been able to play with real toys when you were a child yourself. You had only had some old, broken dolls that were missing limbs or heads. They were better than nothing, but it still felt weird when Alby had a large toy chest full of these shiny trains and expensive plushies, and he got any toys he desired if he only said he wanted them.

He was spoiled to an extent, but you still cared about him, somewhat even loved him. You had participated in raising him, even if your father took credit for it. His Kaelish Prince, he’d tell his closest gang members. He cherished and loved him, more than anything, but he had been discreet about it outside of this little circle he trusted.

He let you use Alby in your plan only because that was a major winning card you could use to get Kaz’s trust. Even when it was extremely risky, your father destroyed children’s lives, so why wouldn’t Kaz do something worse? Especially when considering Kaz’s mystery hatred towards your father.

“I’m not sure why you would take such a street rat in,” your father’s aunt said as she watched you look through the paintings and decorations. “You said she–”

Your father had raised his voice. “Was abandoned by her parents. I took her in out of pure kindness. She’ll learn to be a Rollins in time.”

Everyone turned silent, as if puzzled about something. The memory had stuck to you since that day, but you weren’t sure why.

Then, the carriage jumped and you flew from your seat to the other side, bumping your head with the wall. You cried out as you slid to the floor and clutched your head, feeling blood staining your fingers. Kaz grumbled as the carriage stopped and tipped slightly to the side. You heard the driver curse in Ravkan and the carriage swayed slightly again as he jumped down from the seat. He opened the door, and rubbed his neck.

“Um, change of plans,” he mumbled. “One of the wheels broke. I can’t take you any further.”

You scoffed. “If you wouldn’t have driven so violently, it wouldn’t have broken.”

The driver nodded. “Yes, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t sleep well and–”

You interrupted him, “We paid you for getting us in time to Rotrov village, not for fucking a barmaid.”

The driver scowled, his hands squeezing into fists. “Klasha is not a barmaid, she’s the daughter of the inn owner–”

Kaz stood up, and the man swallowed and shut up instantly. He took a step back to let Kaz out of the carriage, and soon Kaz was looming over him.

“How do you suggest we get to Rotrov now?” Kaz asked, pressing the beak of his cane to the man’s throat. “I paid you the full price beforehand.”

The man’s eyes widened. “I… I’m going to figure out something. Please, go back to the carriage, rest, I will walk back to Kribirsk–”

Kaz looked the man up and down, and hummed, removing the cane. “Make sure you come back, your horses will stay here as collateral.”

He nodded frantically and then took a few steps backwards. “I will! I promise.” Then, he turned around and started running back towards Kribirsk, looking over his shoulder a few times before disappearing behind a hill.

You sighed and groaned. “I can’t believe you just did that. He isn’t–”

Kaz shot you a glare, and then turned to the horses and started to undo their harnesses. “Of course he isn’t, I’m not stupid. The amount of money I gave him is enough for a new carriage, he has no reason to come back. I just wanted to scare him for wasting our time. We’re going to be riding the rest of the way.”

A memory of you riding a horse once more than a decade ago crossed your mind. How you were almost thrown off. “Ride?”

“Yes,” Kaz replied, and then looked at you for a moment. “You can ride, can’t you?”

You straightened up and nodded. “Of course I can. I was just surprised you can too.”

He cocked an eyebrow, and then turned to look his horse over. You glanced at his bad leg, and wondered if this would be the moment to take Kaz out. No witnesses. You’d easily be able to dump his body somewhere.

But on the other hand, you had given the knife to Kaz last night and you currently had no weapons. Kaz could easily smash your head in with his cane if you tried to take on him with your bare fists. He was incredibly skilled in fighting too - you weren’t able to risk it. You’d need to grow trust a little bit more before attacking.

It was just that you started to be in a hurry and riding was faster than sitting in a carriage - less time to plan, to prepare, to make him trust you. You internally cursed yourself about it.

Kaz hoisted himself up on the horse, which impressed you if you were honest. He was stronger than you thought, and you barely noticed him grimacing when he had to put pressure on his bad leg.

“How did you hurt your leg?” you asked as you hoisted yourself up to the horse. “People in Ketterdam have all kinds of stories about it, I’ve always been interested in hearing the actual story.”

Kaz merely cocked an eyebrow at you, and then took the reins. “We will ride north, down that hill. We’ll be at the outskirts of Rotrov by midnight, if we’re lucky.”

You sighed. “May Saints bless our way…”

Kaz laid a side glance at you as he squeezed his horse for a walk. “Didn’t think you’re a religious person.”

“I’m not,” you laughed, following his example. “But considering everything that’s happened lately, believing in fairytales may benefit us.”

Kaz narrowed his eyes at you and scoffed. “Waste of time.”

Then, total silence. Only leaves rustling in the wind, some birds singing. A cat laying on the road let out a meow before it sprinted into a bush, and a beam of rising sun filtered through a large oak in the distance. You rode in silence for about an hour, before you finally opened your mouth. “Does your leg hurt?”

Kaz clenched his jaw. “That’s not your concern.”

“Maybe you should–”

“No.”

“But–”

“No.”

You sighed and laid your eyes back into the road in front of you. You tried to go through all the scenarios that could happen in Rotrov. The guard warehouse was at the outskirts of it. You would probably stay the night, and leave towards Os Alta before sunrise.

This should be the night, tomorrow would be too late. You closed your eyes and inhaled, the air almost feeling bitter when it went down your throat. You should probably send a message to your father, just in case. It was risky, you knew it, but you needed to inform him, so he knew if you had failed.

You grinned at Kaz as you gave your horse a squeeze and she started going faster. “I need to use the bathroom, so here’s a little challenge. Last one at the next village will pay for dinner!”

You knew Kaz huffed and had no intention to follow you, and you could just hope he didn’t doubt your reasoning too much. Your reason was believable enough, and you didn’t have weapons and only a few coins of vlachki - so no way to set up a trap, and not really time either as Puvodsk was only ten minutes away, five minutes if you galloped there, and you weren’t skilled enough to gallop. At least you hoped he thought the same.

The moment you arrived, you tied up your horse and retreated to the bathroom at the nearby pub. You hurried to take your boot off and dug around it for a moment, before locating the little pouch and carefully pulled the piece of parchment wrapped around a pen and a tiny bottle of ink. You laid it on the counter and started scribbling quickly.

Dear Father,

We got to the other side of the Fold. Brekker isn’t quite trusting me, but I need to act quickly. A Sun Summoner has appeared and Brekker is intending to kidnap her tomorrow with the Sharpshooter and Wraith.

We’ve been alone with Brekker since yesterday as the plan includes Sharpshooter and Wraith travelling apart from us, and I may have a chance tonight. If I succeed, I will be back in Ketterdam within a week. If I won’t be back in Ketterdam by

A knock, which made you spill ink on the paper slightly and you barely contained a gasp.

“What’s taking you so long?!” someone roared from the other side of the door, and you started cleaning the mess you made.

“Twice as long now!” you exclaimed back, and cursed slightly when you noticed your shirt caught some ink. Definitely noticeable.

The man growled at the other side of the door and slammed the handle down a few times. You wiped the counter quickly, and tried to make the ink dry faster, even when it was little use when the ink had spread over half of the letter. You’d need to more ink from somewhere and preferably another parchment, and soon. When the ink had dried enough, you quickly stuck it back into your boot and opened the door. The man pushed past you that instant and you exited the bathroom before seeing anything more.

Kaz stood in front of the pub and took a look at you. His eyes lingered on the ink stain, and you chuckled. “Someone had left a bottle of ink in the bathroom, I accidentally knocked it over in a hurry."

He didn’t say anything to that, he narrowed his eyes slightly and then met your eyes. “Are you clear with our plan?”

You nodded. “It’s a few hours until sunset and we’ll be at Rotrov in six hours at earliest. But you probably prefer to break in at night anyways, so it won’t be a problem.”

Kaz nodded, and then took a look at the pub sign. Snoring Tulip. “We should stop by for dinner before that. We won’t get food in Rotrov at that time of night, and we need to be sharp when breaking into the warehouse.”

You frowned. “You mean to say you’re–”

He rolled his eyes. “No, not because of your ‘challenge’. Because you don’t have money anyway. But I will not buy anything grand for you.”

You pouted playfully and then followed Kaz to the pub - food indeed would do good for your plans tonight.

---

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archivxx · 2 years ago

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✯[0.01]✯

[opening act]

Previous || Next

Note: When I’m given the choice between A, a slightly inconveniencing situation, and B, a shit show with a devastating consequence, I will inevitably chose option B.

Two years later.

In your defence, the man didn’t seem to mind the kiss too much. It did take him a moment to adjust—perfectly understandable, given the sudden circumstances. It was an awkward, uncomfortable, somewhat painful minute in which you were simultaneously smashing your lips against his and pushing yourself as high as your toes would extend to keep your mouth at the same level as his face. Did he have to be that tall? The kiss must have looked like some clumsy headbutt, you grew anxious that you was not going to be able to pull the whole thing off. Your dear best friend, Nicole, whom you had spotted coming your way a few seconds ago, was going to take one look at you and ‘Kiss Dude’ know for certain you were not even remotely committed to each other.

Then that agonising slow moment went by and the kiss changed. It became different. The man inhaled sharply and inclined his head a tiny bit making you feel like less of a squirrelling monkey climbing a baobab tree. His hands, which were kind of large and pleasantly warm in the cold outdoors of the party you were at, closed around your waist. They slid up a few inches, coming to wrap around your rib cage holding you to him. Not too close. Not too far.

Perfect.

It was honestly more of a ‘prolonged peck’ than anything. However it was quite nice. For a life span of a few seconds you forgot many things. Including the fact you were pressed against a complete stranger. You barely even had the chance to ask him, “can I kiss you?” Before you locked lips with him. That the reason you were even doing this was under the hope that you would fool Nicole. Your best friend in the entire world.

But a good kiss would do that; make a girl forget everything for a while. You found yourself melting into the kiss, running your hands across his jaw and brushing by his seemingly soft hair and you sighed, as if you were already out of breath and- nonono.

Nope.

No way.

You should not be enjoying this.

You gasped and pushed yourself away from him, frantically looking for Nichole. In the night time darkness off the party, Nichole was nowhere to be found. Which was weird considering you were certain you’d seen her coming this way.

‘Kiss Dude’ on the other hand, was standing right in front of you. His lips parted, chest rising and a weird light flickering in his eyes. That was when it had dawned on you of who exactly you’d just shared a kiss with.

Fuck you.

Fuck your whole fucking life.

Because Clyde Donovan was a know ass.

This fact wasn’t remarkable as everyone with even a small amount of fame was required some levels of assness. But in the pyramid of asses, Clyde Donovan was a special case. At least if rumours go anything by it.

He was the reason your roommate, Kyle, had almost given up on the band and quit music entirely. The one who made Kenny throw up from anxiety before a concert. He was the sole culprit for half of the upcoming artists quitting before they even got a chance. He was essentially the cause of stage fright.

Clyde Donovan may have been amazing at what he does, and have taken the public by storm but he was also mean and hypocritical. It was always obvious in the way he spoke and in the way he carried himself that he thought he was doing a better job at this whole music thing than everyone else. He was a notoriously moody, terrifying, pretentious dick.

And you had just kissed him.

You weren’t sure how long the silence lasted, only that he was the one the break it. He stood in front of you, insanely intimidating with eyes even scarier than him, himself. He was staring down on you. A scowled expression that you recognised from seeing him around at parties and other meetings with record companies. A look that was usually followed by him interrupting to point out an issue.

It’s okay. It’s totally fine. it’s okay. You would just pretend nothing at happened. Give him a nod and tiptoe out of here. Solid plan.

“Did- did you just kiss me?” He sounded utterly gobsmacked. His lips were parted and plump and—kissed. There was no way you were getting away with pretending you hand done anything.

It was still worth a try.

“No.”

It seemed to work.

“Ah okay then.” Clyde turned around vaguely disoriented and took a few steps to the table where the drinks were. Probably where he had been heading from the start.

You we’re starting to, foolishly, think that you were actually being let off the hook when he holted.

“Are you sure?”

Fuck sake.

You buried you face in your hands. “It not what it looks like.”

“Okay…I-okay.” He repeated. Slowly. His voice was hoarse, he was seemingly on the way to being mad. Or maybe he already was. “What’s going on here?”

There was no way you could explain this. Anyone would of found the situation odd but Clyde, who obviously considered empathy a bug, could and would never understand.

“I’m really sorry…I am but—this really isn’t any of your business.”

He stared at you for a moment. Then another. “Oh, okay. Of course.” It seemed like he was getting back to normal. His tone was starting to sound less surprised and more monotone. “I’ll just go and write a complaint about you then.”

You exhaled in relief. “Yeah that would be great. You know—what. Your what?”

He cocked his head. “A complaint. You basically just committed a crime of sexual misconduct.”

“No, I didn’t! What?”

He shrugged. “I must be mistaken then, someone else must have assaulted me.”

“Assaulted— I didn’t ‘assault’ you.”

“You did kiss me.”

“Well not really.”

“Without getting my consent.”

“I did actually ask if I could kiss you.”

“So why didn’t you wait for my consent?”

“What? You said yes.”

“Excuse me?”

You frowned. “I asked you if I could kiss you and you said yes.”

“Incorrect. You asked if you could kiss me and I laughed in your face.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard you say yes!”

He raised and eyebrow at you and let you daydream of the floor swallowing you whole.

“Listen, I’m so so sorry. It was a really weird situation and we forget it happened?”

He studied you for a moment. A look set on his features that you couldn’t quite decipher. You couldn’t help but notice how small you felt in his presence. For some reason he felt like he was towering over you. You knew he always made a point of making people feel insignificant, you’d seen him do it at many events, but never to you.

Well, except for a few second ago once you almost put your tongue in his—

“Is there something wrong?” He almost sounded concerned.

“What? No. No, there isn’t.”

“Well” He continued calmly, “kissing a stranger you’ve never spoke to, may indicate that there is in fact something wrong.”

“There isn’t.” You insisted.

He nodded, thoughtful. “Very well. Expect mail in the next few days then.” He started to walk past you and your turned to yell after him.

“You didn’t even ask my name!”

“I’m pretty sure I can find it out with one quick google search. Have a good night.”

“Wait!” You leaned forward and stoped him with a hand on his wrist that would take minimal effort to remove. He stared at the spot where your fingers wrapped around him. Right below a watch.

You let go of him and took a step back. “Sorry I didn’t mean to—“

“The kiss. Explain.”

You bit into your lower lip. You have really fucked up. You had to tell him now, it was the least you could do. “Nichole Daniels.” You looked around to make sure she was really gone. “The girl who was passing by.”

He gave no indication of knowing who she was.

“Nichole has…” you moved a strand of hair out of you face. This is where it was going to get embarrassing. Complicated. Maybe even plain wrong. “I was briefly talking to this guy, the manager for our band. Tolkien Black. But Nichole and Tolkien have always sort of hit it off and—“ you huffed and shit your eyes. You almost wished you hadn’t, you could see it painted clear as day behind you lids. Nicole and Tolkien flirting while you were his date. They talked about endless topics. Something you’d failed to do with Tolkien. The night had ended with Tolkien following Nichole like a lost puppy. Whether it was with his eyes or physically. You physically cringed recalling the memory.

“To cut a fun story short,” you cringed, “Tolkien ended things with me and asked her out and she said no because she didn’t want to upset me. Girl code and stuff. But I know she really really likes him. She’s afraid to hurt my feelings even after I told her it’s fine and she wouldn’t believe me.”

Not to mention you over heard her marvelling about him to your friend Bebe. But she would never betray you. And she sounded so dejected and disappointed. Maybe even insecure.

“So I lied and told her I had a date here tonight. Because she’s literally my best friend and I’ve never see her so out of character. Plus, she really likes this guy and—“ you’d now realised you’d been rambling. And not even to just anyone, to Clyde Donovan. Someone who definitely couldn’t care less. You tried to sawlike but your mouth was dry.

“Ah.” His expression was completely unreadable.

“But I obviously don’t have a date. I honestly kind of forgot she would be here and see me and know I didn’t have a date so I panicked and acted on impulse and uhm well—you know.” You wiped a hand down your face. “I’m so so sorry. I didn’t think.”

Clyde didn’t say anything but it was clear to you that he was thinking.

“I just want her to believe have a date.”

He nodded. “So like any self-respecting woman, you kissed the first person you saw in a hallway. Logical.”

You leg out a pained whine. “Well when you put it like that, it probably wasn’t my best moment.”

“Probably not.”

“But it wasn’t my worst, either! Im pretty sure Nichole saw us. Now she’ll think I was on a date and she’ll hopefully feel like it’s okay for her to go out with Tolkien—“ you shook you head quickly. “Look in honesty so sorry about the kiss.”

“Are you?”

“Please don’t write a complaint about me. I really thought you said yes.”

Suddenly. All at once, everything set in. It fully dawned on you. It felt like a tonne of bricks. You had kissed a complete stranger, who then turned out to be the last person you wanted to kiss considering he had a reputation for being a notoriously unpleasant. And now that same guy was staring at you in an odd, pensive way that made you feel so small.

Shit.

Maybe it was that you were running on minimal sleep. Maybe it was that your last coffee had been far too long ago. Maybe it was Clyde Donovan looking at you, like that. All of a sudden this was all way too much.

“No no—actually you’re absolutely right. I am so so sorry if you felt like I was harassing you at any point please you should write a complaint about me. It was a horrible thing to do and I really didn’t want to. Not that my intentions mattered because it’s more of your perception of the situation that matters.”

Shit, shit, shit.

“I’m going to go now. Thank you and I’m really sorry.” You spun on your heel and ran as fast as your legs could carry you.

“Y/N” you heard him call after you. “Y/N wait—“

You didn’t stop. You didn’t slow down you sprinted out of there as fast as your could and to your car. You were essentially running on pure adrenaline.

You got back to your shared apartment with Kyle as fast as you could and slumped down on your bed and it was only then it dawned on you.

Clyde Donovan—know ass—has called you by your name.

Masterlist

#south park #bounded smau #clyde donovan x reader #clyde donovan #tolkien black #nicole daniels

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menzoberranzans · 1 year ago

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2, 13, 14, 29 :3

HI BABY THANK YOU FOR ASKIFN ABOUT MY BOY

2. What relationship did your Tav have with their family/guardian(s) growing up? Has that changed with age?

PREFACING THIS ANSWER BY SAYING HE IS A GUY it was just like. a mulan type deal at first. i am not being transphobic he was crazy. anyway

typical drow noble family relationship :) no tbh tho i don’t know exactly house xorlarrin handles Child Raising bc they’re kind of weird anyway and i haven’t read as much abt them as i’d like so far, so i’m just creating my own lore for it and if i’m wrong No i’m not. :)

anyway elkrysn was born as the 7th of 7 daughters to the matron mother of house xorlarrin and was like. going to just be nothing.

but then he started showing very strong magical promise even moreso than his siblings and so of course. his sisters Hated him. because why should the ugly youngest be the strongest? if they took him out he wouldn’t be a threat to family rank. he spent the first 20 or so years of his life being tormented by his 6 older sisters, around 19 “transitioning” in a play to go to sorcere instead of arach tinileth, and also to rise significantly in station.

a man isn’t as good as a woman but a firstborn son gets plenty of benefits that a seventh daughter likely wouldn’t have. his mother honestly thought it was very clever despite his ��debasing” himself by acting like a man. and it Was clever, because at that point his sisters stopped seeing him as so much of a threat, since he wasn’t after Their status and wasn’t after the title of high priestess, and so despite their hatred of him they did start to treat him a Little differently. not that they ever got Nicer, but it Was a different type of torment that felt marginally less dangerous.

he does end up quite close with his eldest sister for a while before the house leaves for gauntlgrym, which is why the emperor picked her form to use because she was the only person in all of faerun that elkrysn would trust at the time.

his relationship with his extended family tho was Extremely tenuous because he Was the headboy and direct son of the matron mother but the way he got there was very crafty and unconventional so he was obviously clever and desperate enough for power that he Would do anything to get it, including losing his privilege as a woman in menzoberranzan.

all this to say that his family didn’t have any love for him whatsoever but the matron mother did respect his unconventional methods bc that’s what xorlarrin is all about. his youngest sisters though Did plan several unsuccessful assassinations against him because they were unhappy that he was able to raise in station before them despite being youngest.

AT SOME POINT HE BECOMES TRANS FOR REAL dot worry about it. probably in school or smth idk when it happened is not actually relevant to his character

that got very off track. Hello

13. How does your Tav feel about the wilderness?

it’s too fucking bright and there’s too many Good things. there’s like bunnies and squirrels and at any point he could wander into a group of faeries and have to waste spell slots on killing them :/ but it Is full of interesting things that he’s never seen before that he can use in alchemy and enchanting to do things that No one back home has done. which makes it worth it to him honestly LOL

14. How does your Tav feel about the city?

it’s noisy and crowded and dirty, there’s no grand temples to lolth despite all the space they have to build them, no one moves out of his way when he approaches, and it fucking stinks. he absolutely Hates it and he has never in his life been more dedicated to lolth and her revenge on surface dwellers than he is upon entering baldurs gate

29. What advice would you give to your Tav?

read a self help book on hot to talk to people. please. negative rizz ass. you drive me insane

#ask meme #oc. elkrysn #i liek him.

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awakenedmaiden · 1 year ago

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@ranshoehub okay you're getting my list this way because putting it all in replies to your post would be inconvenient. I am only briefly mentioning things though so I'll give you more on whatever you're interested in.

First off, like you said, you already have a kitsune but on the subject of foxes there's also the Kuda-gitsune (what Tsukasa is, a pipefox). Also similar to that is an Izuna, quite similar to a kuda-gitsune but they act as familiars to a magicky person. Then there's Myobu who are foxes of good fortune that often guard shrines. Usually they're statues but within Touhou statues coming to live ain't exactly uncommon.

Then there's kodama. Kodama aren't really a specific look (though I quite like how they were in Princess Mononoke) but they're tree spirits that come from particularly long lived trees. They're also the namesake for a particular type of bullet train so I just thought that was a neat detail to share.

Kamaitachi are basically little weasel youkai (their name means sickle weasel) who run around and give you a cut on a leg. They also sometimes are depicted doing something that kinda resembles sonic spindashing.

A Mujina is kind of like a kitsune or a Tanuki. Being a somewhat mischevious shapeshifting animal. A mujina, however, is a badger youkai (best animal). Well a Japanese Badger which is called an anaguma and is not the same as a western badger. Though they are masters of disguises they tend to give themselves away because they like to sleep and when they do their tail pops out.

Kube-Kira-Uma are a horse spirit that doesn't have a head. Like a headless horseman but without the man part. They often are depicted acting as holiday steeds for gods or powerful youkai.

Raiju are some sort of thunder beast that bring storms with them. But what they actually look at varies greatly. Sometimes they're a dog, a fox, some sort of larger animal, a squirrel thing, I dunno art of them is real inconcistent. But they're some sorta funny storm making beast.

To go with the above there's the Qilin/Kirin/Girin. Which is a Chinese/Japanese/Korean Deer-Dragon (or sometimes a unicorn or a horse-dragon) that fights dragons and is often associated with storms. Their appearance traditionally is said to herald the birth or death of a great leader or philosopher. They're supposed to be very calm and serene but they will fuck you up. It's cool.

Kudan is a cow with a human face. When they're born they utter a prophecy and then immediately die. I can't find anything too interesting about them but they;re just too funny not to include.

Nekomata I'm mentioning just by virtue of them being one of the types of cat youaki that has not been a major character in Touhou.

A very modern (The 1980s) youkai is Jinmenken which are dogs with the face of humans. The stories about it are that you find it rooting around in your garbage, it notices that you've noticed it, then it looks up at you and sadly says "just leave me alone" and walks away.

Akaname comes into your house and drinks your bathwater. I gotta mention that guy cause he's gross.

Kotobuki is a chimera made up of all the animals of the Chinese zodiac.

Aosagibi is a bird that glows with ghost fire

Amenasu: A shape shifting animal but it's a big fish

Amabiko: Three legged ape youkai that walks out of the sea to give prophecies

Furaribi: A like ... flying chicken fireball? Which floats around aimlessly.

Bitan: Aquatic cowfish

Furi: Flying otters that ride on the wind and are maybe a type of weird tanuki

#third eye closed ~ ooc #ranshoehub #The last few are just some honorable mentions I scribbled down quick notes on

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howdywrites · 2 years ago

Text

The Encounter

WIP: In The Woods Somewhere Characters: Jackie and Benny Word Count: 1,070 ***Content Warnings: no gore but gross descriptions of bodily fluids, mild suspense***

This takes place early in ITWS, when Benny and Jackie run into someone who will not be human very soon. Just a reminder: this WIP is set during the early apocalypse, contains zombies, and is sapphic! Created for mature audiences!

Another note, I have had severe writers block and generally been stupid busy, so this is only 1/3 of the work I did on this novel recently. I’m hoping this will encourage me to keep writing!

Wet, acrid heat engulfed Jackie. This time of year the air was sticky and hot, carrying the scent of pine and goldenrod flowers on the wind. She shielded her eyes with her free hand, leaning against her rake that she stabbed into the moist earth. Buzzards swarmed overhead, cawing and floating along the blue sky.

"Something must've died," Benny puffed, his shoulders hunched and hands resting on his knees. His back moved up and down rapidly as he tried to catch his breath.

"Please tell me you brought sunscreen with you," Jackie raised a brow while looking at the young ranger intern. Benny's cheeks were scarlet, sweat falling in large beads down his freckled cheeks. He lifted his head, dirty blond hair sticking to his forehead, and grinned ear to ear.

"Nope!"

"Goddamn it, Benny..." Jackie unclipped the portable fan from around her neck and handed it to him. "Chief is going to kill you, you know. If skin cancer doesn't get to you first."

"It's such a pain - why do I have to reapply it every thirty minutes? Can't they just make sunscreen that lasts all day?" Jackie knew he was kidding, but the urge to give the young man a tongue lashing crept up the back of her throat. So she gave him a deep frown, watching as he fanned himself at full volume. His eyes widened, brows turning upward in the saddest display of puppy eyes. "C'mon, Jack, you know I didn't mean to. I had a billion things on my mind this morning."

Jackie shook her head, yanking her rake out of the ground. "No, I shouldn't be talking to you like you're a kid. Sorry, Benny." Her face smoothed out, a small smile curling at the corner of her lip. "Let's take care of whatever the hell that is and get out of Dodge." She jutted a thumb towards the carnivorous birds. They had migrated closer to the two of them during their spat, hovering only a dozen feet overhead.

The two rangers were tasked with clearing out the overgrown shrubbery that crept along the [trail name] trail. After hours of backbreaking work under the sun, they had it back to tip-top shape, allowing the path to be seen properly by hikers. While not the ideal task at the park, Jackie preferred being in nature over being yelled at by summer holiday campers at the trailheads and welcome center. The primary downside of working the trails was the inevitability of coming across something dead or finding yet another problem that needed fixing.

"Five bucks it's just a squirrel again," Benny laughed, giving Jackie her fan back and looking much cooler than before.

"I don't know. Four buzzards for one squirrel?" She took the lead, heading into a thicket of trees with her eyes on the birds.

"Maybe, there's been a lot of weird animal things going on lately."

"Maybe."

He wasn't wrong. Jackie had seen a few strange events since summer began. She chocked it up to the summer heat. It was at least ten degrees warmer than last July, and the Wildlife Biology team pointed out that animals were avoiding human contact in larger numbers than in previous seasons. The animals that did interact with humans tended to be far more aggressive than usual, too.

Jackie trembled thinking about her run in with an emaciated bear cub in early spring. How its eyes were caked in puss and mouth dripping with a sickly yellow foam. Rabies, the biologists told her, and abandoned by its mother. But she had never seen bear cubs act like that before - or look like that. It attacked her like it had a grudge against her personally, not like it was hungry.

"Jackie?" Benny's voice behind her grew quiet, nearly a whisper. She took pause, drawing her gaze away from the gaps in the tree canopy. A twig snapped ahead of them. The thick scent of vomit hit her like a ton of bricks. There, in a small clearing among the overgrowth, stood a human. A man, on the heavier side, back hunched slightly and head down like he was sleeping while standing upright. Flies buzzed past her ear, zooming towards the fresh feast of vomit at the man's sandled feet. She swallowed a gag, standing up straighter. If the man noticed their presence, he didn't acknowledge them.

Jackie cleared her throat. "Sir? Are you lost? This trail is closed for maintenance and it's advised that you stick to the path." She used her 'teacher voice' as JJ called it. A mix of disappointment and authority that usually steered park guests in the right direction.

The man's head lulled from side to side, slow and methodical, before lifting. He looked over his shoulder at them, eyes wet and face ghostly white. He blinked, as if he saw through them. "Sorry..." he croaked. His words had the cadence of someone whose tongue was too large for their mouth.

"Do you need medical attention?" Jackie prodded, using a gentler tone. She stepped a few paces closer, Benny staying back.

"Little Bear to Papa Bear, we have a situation out on [trail name]." He muttered into his walkie talkie. "Can we get medical out here, over."

"No." The man's head wavered again and he ran a fist over his eyes. A thick goo stuck to his skin, a bit of it dribbling down his cheek. "Just tired. Where am I?"

"You're near the trail, don't worry." Jackie motioned for him to follow them back towards safety. "Let's get you some water, we have a team headed this way that will get you back to your camp, okay?"

'Papa Bear to Little Bear, medic is on their way, over.'

The stranger shuffled his feet, moving like he was attached to weights and moving through water. When he turned, Jackie noticed the front of his shirt was covered in sweat from collar to belly button. How long had he been standing out in he heat? She tried not to curl her nose in disgust as he hacked up some more bile. It landed between them in a thick puddle.

"Careful, now. Did you know you were sick, sir?"

"Jus'a cold." he followed slowly, just behind Jackie. Benny took the lead back to the trail, straying as far away from the stranger as possible. "Not even that sick."

"Well, we'll let our med team decide that."

Folks who were interested when I posted about sharing a snippet: @draculinawrites @antique-symbolism

#itws short #itws

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sxlver-sweet · 3 years ago

Note

hihihii can i pls request a hc for kazutora, mikey and ran with an s/o who has very squishy cheeks? hh sorry, if this request made u feel uncomfy you can just ignore it! anyways tysm have a lovely day/night <3

— SQUISHY CHEEK SOCIETY <3

|| m.lists || taglist form ||

ROSTER . . . kazutora hanemiya, manjiro sano, ran haitani

SYNOPSIS . . . you have squishy cheeks and suddenly mfs don’t know how to act

CONTAINS . . . swearing, kazutora being a menace to the squishy cheek society

NOTE . . . hi there!! don’t worry babe, you request didn’t make my uncomfortable at all! it’s a bit short, though. i wasn’t really sure what else i could add

literally every time MIKEY sees a squirrel or a chipmunk, he’ll elbow you like “lol that’s u”

sometimes, he’ll give you an assortment of small items like cashews, gumballs, and blueberries just because he wants to see how many you can fit into your mouth. it usually catches you off guard because when he first approaches you with his hand extended, he always looks so serious, but after a couple seconds, he’ll dissolve into a fit of laughter at the dumbfounded, perplexed look on your face.

i am a firm believer that when mikey is vying for your attention in private, he’ll bite your cheek. it’ll be barely anything more than the light closing of his teeth around the soft flesh, but he’ll unhinge his whole jaw, make sound effects, and honestly just do the most to draw your attention away from whatever you’re doing. if he ever bites too hard, he’ll immediately apologize and smooth his thumb over the indents.

it always amuses him when you puff out your cheeks before pursing your lips to kiss him anywhere on his face

when you’re worried or upset about something, he’ll completely forgo reading the room to pinch at and stretch your cheeks, asking you what’s wrong and telling you that your frown doesn’t suit you and that you’ll get wrinkles. this has been known to backfire on him more than once.

RAN is so fucking annoying

you knew he would be the moment his eyes widened with surprise at how far your cheek stretched beneath his fingers and his lips formed a quiet “oh?”

all this does is give him extra incentive to seize your face with his fingers pressing into your cheeks to either shock you into silence or force you to look at him whenever you give him attitude. this man is lowkey a freak, i don’t make the rules. sometimes, he’ll be reminded of how soft your cheeks are and accidentally forget what he’s doing, which usually confuses you to the point where you forget why you were irritated in the first place. he’ll be towering over you, silently squeezing your cheeks while you’re waiting for him to finish his sentence and express his disappointment in your behavior. he’s just weird

he 100% does that stupid shit where he taps you on the shoulder and when you turn your head, you’re met with his finger poking into your cheek. he’ll smile and declare his victory with a teasing, “got you!” all the while, you’re annoyed and just wanting to complete your work so you can relax

akin to mikey, ran will also pinch and tug at your cheeks whenever you’re upset, but he’ll wait a bit and read the room beforehand to see if you’re in a mood where the comforting gesture will be well-received. he’ll tell you that tears don’t suit you, and he’ll insist that you tell him what’s bothering you.

just because he likes the elasticity of your cheeks and how the apples of your cheeks seem to glow whenever you smile, cheek kisses rank in at a close second in his favorite ways of showing physical affection

!!!

KAZUTORA is more subtle about it, but best believe he peeped that shit when you two first started dating. ever since, he’s been itching to pinch at and squeeze your cheeks. normally, he would’ve gone for it regardless of how you felt, but since you sat him down at the beginning of the relationship and had a talk with him about setting boundaries before anything happens, he’s worried that he would accidentally overstep a boundary that you had yet to discuss, thus resulting in you getting upset and leaving him

he’ll just sit quietly and stare at your side profile, chewing feverishly on the inside of his cheek until you notice his gaze boring intensely into the side of your face. like damn, kazutora, you can at least ask LMAO

when you give him the green light, best believe he’s touching them constantly

whenever you get dolled-up for him, he’ll pinch your cheeks and coo about how pretty you are. sometimes, his grip is a bit too tight, and when you tell him so, he’ll pull away immediately and look at you with those blank, unreadable eyes and a simple “oh.” then, to remedy the friction and soothe the ache in your cheeks, he’ll brush the gentlest kiss he can manage across the reddened areas.

when he’s bored, he likes to slowly sink his finger into your cheek to see how large and deep of a crater he can press into the supple flesh. again, you’ll have to tell him if it hurts, because his eyes won’t be focused anywhere else other than on your cheek. he might sulk a bit, but he’ll stop

i feel like kazutora likes to go on aquarium dates because he likes the sharks (and wants to see them eat), so every time you two comes across a tank with a pufferfish, he’ll nudge your shoulder and laugh, “look, it’s you!”

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beskarberry · 4 years ago

Text

Blue Orchid

Flowers for Ishtar, Chapter 1

(Nonhuman!Mando x f!Reader) [+18!]

You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

Next->

Summary: You discover your hunting partner isn't human, which in a galaxy far, far away isn't that strange until his alien needs become too much for him to hide.

Rating: Explicit as FUCK

Word count: 9.2k

Content warnings: Major kinks: breeding and pregnancy, eggs and oviposition, mpreg/fpreg, alien genitalia. Minor kinks: praise, eating and weight gain. Kink sprinkles: threw some things in like just a tad of sex pollen, hair pulling, spanking, a very brief daddy kink, the idea of a/b/o. There's a few more but if you're familiar with my writing you know what's up. Negatives: body horror, dysphoria.

A/N: Yeah... um... hm... So this is some weird shit but if you enjoyed Garden of Ishtar this will be right up your alley. If that was weird and creepy for you then this is not for you! You have been warned!!!

There’s something strange going on with your partner.

Mando, as he insisted on being called, even though that was clearly not his real name, had been acting differently recently. Though he was an odd one from the get-go, the burly, short-tempered, efficient hunter took some getting used to, but now something about him was off.

It was a strange partnership you’d gotten yourself into, ever since that day you had been sitting in the same cantina booth as him on Nevarro, arguing with Karga over the last available bounty puck.

“Karga, I’m not splitting a puck with this guy.” You’d barked, crossing your arms and leaning back with a huff. Next to you, the armored stranger grunted in agitated agreement, his plated shoulders catching the light as they stiffened. You didn’t know each other, and as far as you could tell the only thing you both had in common was that you both worked for the Guild.

“Well that’s too bad!” The old agent stated, shaking his head. “This is the last one I’ve got until next month, so unless one of you wants to wait until then, this is all I have left. You're going to have to work together as a team.”

“Unless I kill her first.” The iron giant said coldly, not even looking your way.

“I’d like to see you try.” A knife flew from your belt to the table as you buried the tip of it in the faux wood counter, glaring daggers with your eyes at his shiny metal head.

“Easy now, we’re all friends here! Can’t have my two best hunters fighting, or killing each other…”

“Bullshit, I’m the best hunter here, Kargsy, and you know it.” Fury seethed from your words, but it was seemingly lost on the other man. “Tinman here can go fuck himself.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“No, but I fuck yours with it!”

Greef slammed a fist down on the table, making the trio of spotchka glasses bounce and spill. “That’s enough, either you two figure out how to play nice or neither of you will be getting this puck, or any other pucks for that matter! And that’s final!”

That was six months ago.

Despite your differences, the pair of you made for a terrifying duo, between his heavily armored body and your quick, nimble blades, it was like hell itself had released its most deadly demons. The bounty was found, hunted, and captured so quickly and easily that the minute the Razor Crest touched back down on Nevarro you were both excitedly harassing Karga for more.

Your newfound companion didn’t talk much, but what he didn’t say with his words he made up for with his actions. He gave you a little backstory, filling you in on his Mandalorian heritage and what that meant regarding his helmet and armor, and you were fine with the condition that he would never show his face around you. What he did show you was how lethal he could be, a whirlwind of blasters and beskar, an immovable object that coupled neatly with your unstoppable force.

It was poetry in motion.

Bounties fell at your feet like wheat before the scythe, wracking up credits like Kessel-running smugglers which you both blew on firearms and vibroblades as if the galaxy was ending tomorrow. What didn’t go towards guns and ammo went towards food and fuel, the Crest blasting off of Nevarro again and again and again.

As time went on, you slowly started to warm up to each other. You couldn’t really say you were friends, just work partners that happened to be flawlessly efficient at what they did. It was a fine arrangement, but over time small, but significant changes between you started to catch your attention.

You’d pinned a bounty, a large, malodorous Twi’lek that nearly squirmed out from your grasp, only to earn themselves a vicious cold-clocking to the back of their tentacled skull. Breath heavy and eyes burning with aggression, you’d slogged the captive into the carbonite freezer like you were taking out the trash, your wanton strength not going unnoticed by your companion.

“Good job.” Mando had said with a tilt of his helmet, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. “Such a strong verd’ika, can’t wait to see what you do to the next guy.” He’d never complimented you up to that point, if he spoke to you at all. It’d caught you off guard, but in a good way, and you knew right then you wanted to hear him say it again.

So you kept doing a good job.

And you did it on purpose.

The next bounty you held in place while Mando punched their lights out, holding steadfast against the living sledgehammer that was your partner, wincing every time you felt his fists explode against the Aqualish’s exoskeleton. When they’d keeled over, you let them fall to the floor, jumping slightly when Mando patted your shoulder, impressed with your ability to hold your own.

He seemed kind, when he wasn’t retaliating against your snide remarks or beating the living shit out of a bounty. Often when it was just the two of you he was almost soft spoken, asking you if you got enough to eat or if your wounds needed tending to, but not once did he ever make a pass at you.

That was somewhat of a surprise, but you didn’t even know what species he was, so there was a good chance you weren’t even on his sexual radar. He looked human, he obviously wasn’t a Togruta or a Twi’ with that helmet, and he was too tall to be a Rodian or Ugnaught. Too broad to be Gungan.

He was humanly proportioned to a sinful degree, his wide armored shoulders and cinched waist giving you wicked thoughts in the late hours. Even his fucking voice did something to you, the deep, gravelly husk of it almost reverberated in your chest when he spoke, and more than once you wished it would vibrate for you somewhere else.

But you were just two hunters making a living, nothing more.

Recently, however, something had started to change; and it wasn’t something that you liked. You weren’t buddy-buddy, but in the recent weeks his demeanor had started to wane. Mando was always private, taking his meals alone and keeping the fresher door locked when in use, but even when he wasn’t dealing with the necessary inconveniences of being alive he was starting to avoid you more and more.

At first you let him have his space, it was none of your business what was bothering him if he wasn’t going to speak up about it. But as the weeks seemed to drag on his temper began to flare more often, his sentences getting even shorter than they already were, his words sharp and vindictive.

You let it slide until he was rude to a merchant in a Bespin market, demanding more food rations than what he was being offered. Mando had left the market with so much dried meat and canned vegetables that it was falling out of his satchel, leaving a breadcrumb trail of bantha-in-a-can as he stormed back to the ship.

He was eating more often, too, squirreling himself away from your campfires or tucking himself up in either his sleeping cubby or the cockpit; whichever was further away from you at the time. You had your own space in the upstairs part of the Crest where he’d strung a ramshackle hammock for you, but it was so close to her reactors that you frequently woke up sweaty whenever you were in hyperspace.

On one such occasion you decided to sneak over to the ladder hatch when he thought you were sleeping, carefully peeking into the hold below. You could see him in his alcove, but just barely, only his back visible to you from your vantage point. He was eating, a lot. You watched his back and shoulders heave with each desperate bite of food, gorging himself as if he’d been lost in the desert for weeks.

The next cycle he kept his back to you almost constantly, like he was trying to hide something from view, but there were very little private spaces in the ship, especially while the stars streaked by overhead. Try as he might, he couldn’t hide his secret from your prying eyes, though you weren’t surprised with what you saw after watching him eat like there was no tomorrow.

He was gaining weight.

It was just a little at first, maybe just an illusion brought on by some extra layers of clothing; hyperspace was chilly, after all. However it soon became obvious as his extra warmth began to pudge over his belt and upset his armor that it wasn’t all fluff. You checked the larder after he went up to the cockpit to work on the navigation, and you were alarmed to find that almost half of your rations were already used up after having left Bespin only three cycles ago.

Something was definitely up with your partner.

You were watching him now from where you sat on one of the supply crates, toying with a vibroblade while he rigorously cleaned a plate of his armor, his back turned to you. His beskar was spotless, nary a drop of blood or spec of dust remained. He was just trying to distract himself from his newfound curves, but you were starting to get frustrated.

It was time to get to the bottom of this.

“Hey, are you feeling alright? You’ve been acting-”

“I’m fine.” he barked, the aggression behind his words making you jump. You weren’t afraid of him, or he of you. Your partnership was mutually beneficial and respected, and it wasn’t like him to be so short with you in close quarters. You weren’t having any of it.

“That’s crap and you know it, something's up with you, I can tell. You wanna talk about it?” Though he wasn’t looking your way, you cast your eyes at his pudge muffin, hoping he would catch your implications without you having to put it into words.

He said nothing, instead he rose from his seat and hurried up the ladder to the flight deck, sealing the airlock behind him.

You didn’t see him again until the ship dropped from hyperspace.

It was a quiet couple of days, and fucking boring too. Mando didn’t even come down to use the fresher or grab food, which made you nervous after seeing him stress eating like he had been. The Crest touched down on Jedha not far from an enormous crater that the Empire had put there in its heyday, but even when the engines went quiet, the blast door remained sealed.

“Mando? You still alive in there?” You asked tentatively with your ear pressed to the door, rapping your knuckles against the durasteel.

“Fine.”

“Are you coming out?”

There was a long pause, then: “...No.”

You grumbled and donked your head against the door. “Are you gonna make me go get this bounty myself?” He didn’t answer, which unfortunately meant the answer to your question was ‘yes’. You sighed heavily like you’d heard him do innumerable times. “You suck. Do you need anything before I head out?”

“No, thank you verd’ika.”

He was still alive, and talking, so those were both good signs, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with him during your entire hunt. The bail jumper you were after came quietly, which on a regular day would make you angry that you had even wasted fuel for such a lame chase, but you were anxious to get back to your partner.

You marched the delinquent up the ramp and goaded them into the freezer, filling the little cabin with carbonite fog. Though you were making a hell of a racket, you still hollered up the ladder before climbing it, only to find the cockpit empty. Nervously you searched the upper floor, checking everywhere from your hammock to the fuselage, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jumping down the ladder, you quickly scanned the hold, only to realize that you’d run right past him. The door to his cubby was closed, like it always was even when he wasn’t in it, but outside on the floor near the entrance were piles of empty food tins. Horrified, you checked the larder, your eyes going all the way to the bottom of the crate. He ate everything!

“Mando! I’m back! Open up!” You yelled, pounding your fist on the door, not giving a flying fuck if he was asleep. Something was very, very wrong.

“You’re back already?” He called, his voice weak and hoarse behind the door, making your blood run cold. Oh Maker no, don’t tell me he’s sick.

“Yeah, and I’m worried about you! Open this damn door before I rip it off its rails.”

“You need to leave. You can’t be here.”

“‘Scuse me? Fucker I live here! I’m not-”

“Please, you’re not safe.” He pleaded, his voice sounded broken and desperate, like he was trying to choke something back.

“Not safe? Mando you’re not making any sense, I already took care of the bounty, they-”

“You’re not safe from me!”

A weird mix of emotions flooded through you, first the worry for the health of your partner, the confusion at his panic, and suddenly the rage that burned behind your eyes at the mere notion of him thinking you couldn’t peel him apart like a can of sardines.

You’d had enough.

“Fuck you, chum bucket, this ends right now! Hope you’ve got pants on because I’m coming in!”

“No! Don’t, please!”

“HERE I COME!” You bellowed as you slammed your fist into the glowing button panel on the wall, deaf to his fretful protests. The metal grate rattled as it rolled upwards, and briefly your eyes caught the back of his head right before his helmet sank down over the dark curls that he kept secret. The fact that he even had hair was the least startling thing of all.

What hit you first was the smell.

Inside the sleeping cubby where the Mandalorian was hurriedly scuttling into the deepest reaches, the pungent scent of...something hurtled through your synapses. It didn’t stink, quite the opposite, it smelled delicious. Warm and rich, like honey on fruit sitting out on a beautiful summer day, the alien aroma making your mouth water.

“What the fuck is that smell?” you roared at the man huddled as far away from you as he could get, his body lost to the shadows behind the scattering of armor he had discarded. You didn’t like that one bit, feeling something akin to pity at his doubled-over, armorless frame. You sniffed the air again, taking deep, greedy inhalations and trying to decipher what the fuck was going on. “Are you eating starfruit?! You fuckhole! You’re snacking without me!”

“Please leave me alone.” He grumbled, wedging himself even harder against the back wall. “I’m fine, really, I just want to be alone.”

“Well that’s just too fuckin’ bad, you’re sick, and the least you could do is tell me what’s wrong. I have a right to know if my partner is gonna up and die on me.” He pleaded again, his voice sounding whiny even through his vocorder, but you were having none of it. “I’m coming in.”

“Dammit all, why won't you leave me alone?!” He was yelling now, but in his anger he turned enough towards you that you could see his front, making you gasp.

Big.

“Holy fucking shit, Mando, are you… are you pregnant?!” Hidden by his broad backside no longer, his protruding belly caught the light, jiggling a bit when he wrapped his arms around it.

“No! I mean… sorta…”

“The fuck do you mean sorta?!” you were screaming now, blown away by his swollen guts and the fact that he was very much not pregnant only a few days ago. “What the hell is that then?!”

He was caught now, you’d seen his shame and there was no going back. “They’re… they’re my eggs.”

You stood a moment, staring at him while your mouth flopped uselessly like a dying fish. Welp, there’s your answer, he is not human. There were lots of sentient species in this great big galaxy you called home, many of which produced offspring via eggs, so you weren’t as surprised by that as you were by the suddenness of it. Of... him.

Mando rubbed at his belly, curling in on himself as if doing so would shrink him down into nothingness where he could disappear into oblivion. “Please, it’ll pass, I’ve just… I’ve never had anyone around me while I...grmph... deal with it.”

His groan of pain broke your stare, pumping determination into your legs along with the burn of adrenaline. “Do… do you need help? Is there anything I can do for you?” You leaned forward into the alcove, reaching for him. “Are you in pain?”

“...I-I’m f-fine.” He shirked away from you, avoiding your touch. “Happens every couple of years, just...hmmph… it’s not usually… so much.”

Now you were just plain fascinated, climbing up slowly on your hands and knees, trying to be delicate. “Mando, I’m your partner, I’m not just gonna stand around while you suffer. Tell me what I can do to help.” The warrior flinched hard when your fingers found his shoulder, reflexively protecting his belly. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Cyar’ika, please, I don’t want to...hmmph… do anything that I-I’ll regret.”

“You already ate all our fucking food, what more could you do to piss me off?” You said with a laugh, trying to break the tension. Carefully you brushed your hand along his clothed shoulder, a thin smile dancing over your lips when you felt him shudder.

“You shouldn’t touch me, I’m dangerous.”

“You ain’t shit, and I’ve seen how you’ve stiched my wounds closed, you won’t hurt me. I know you.”

“No you don’t!” He screamed, flipping around all the way to try and shoo you out of the cubby, but his hefty gut kept him rooted in place. You couldn’t help but stare at his rounded middle, his flack coat straining to keep zipped shut as the weight of him wobbled delightfully. It made you laugh.

“Mando! You’re gonna be a m... da... parent! You’re gonna be a parent! Why didn’t you tell me?! I would have baked you a cake.”

“It’s.. it’s never been this bad.” he stuttered, consigning himself to the fact that he was stuck with you. “I grow a clutch every year or so, but it’s usually just a handful of... them.” he hissed with an air of disgust, shame creeping into his voice. “They pass without much issue, but it’s never been this much.”

“What do the other Mandalorians do when this happens?”

He shook his head, guarding his middle. “Mandalorian isn’t a race, it’s a creed. The Mandalorians rescued me after an army of droids killed my parents and everyone else in my village. I… I don’t know what species I am, and neither does my clan. There’s no record of my village, or where they found me, and I can’t find anything on the holonet about… this.” His visor tilted down to his tummy. “I might be the last of my kind.”

“Mando, that's terrible, but I’m sure there’s more of you somewhere. There’s gotta be! Maybe if you took off your helmet I could see-”

“No, helmet stays on. I don’t need to add the indignity of a broken creed to this mess. Now please, mesh’la I’m begging you, lock me in here and let me ride this out alone. I don’t know if I could live with myself if I hurt you.”

You scuttled closer on your knees until you were right up against him, cautiously reaching out towards his swell. His visor snapped at you, his body flinching harder into the corner, but he was trapped. “Why do you think you’ll hurt me?” You whispered as your palm met the straining fabric cradling his shameful secret.

He grabbed your wrist so hard you felt your bones grind from the strength of his grip. “Because…” he growled, the timbre of it so low you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Because I don’t know what I am, but I know I need to put these eggs somewhere, and I want...I need to put them… inside…” He trailed off when a painful contraction shook his body, making him let go of you to hold himself together. “Get out now! It’s starting… please I can handle this alone but if you’re near me… I don’t know what I’ll do!”

“Shut’cher gob and tell me what to do, and don’t tell me to leave because I won’t!” You didn’t know jack shit about human births, let alone alien gestation, but you’d been through some fucked up situations, what’s one more for good measure? “I’m guessing you need to get your pants off.” His breathing was heavy, his helmet tilting with each laboured heave, but he nodded and started to fumble with the zipper of his trousers.

Your heart leapt to your throat. In the darkness of your hammock you’d imagined what it would be like to undress him, taking each of his beskar plates off and trailing your fingers down his tight clothes, revealing the man underneath like unwrapping a gift. With your fingers lost between your legs you’d pictured his muscular shoulders and broad chest, maybe even a trail of dark hair that led you all the way down his beefy abdomen to his thick, heavy cock. You’d had to bite down on the corner of your blanket when you thought of him pinning you to the wall or bending you over the dashboard, stuffing you full of his length while he groaned his praises in your ears until you were soaked.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

His gloves and his girth were giving him a hard time, so diligently you stepped in to help him undress. Your nimble fingers found the button and zipper with ease, the heat of his groin making your cheeks flush rosy pink, and then red when you pulled the zipper across the bulge in his pants and flooded the tiny nook with the perfume of his sex.

The hair surprised you, you didn’t think that an egg-bearing creature would even have curls, but there they were. Dark brown and soft against your fingertips, growing from lovely, sun-bronze skin, but that was the last of his human traits from there on. Ultimately, you were expecting a cock, horrified by the implications of what that meant in this situation, but as the zipper’s teeth continued to split, your eyes were greeted with something that made your guts flip.

It was fucking blue.

The thing sitting heavily between his legs was the prettiest ocean blue you had ever seen, with coils of deep indigo veins running up it’s length between bands of bioluminesce. Long, thick, and glowing, Mando’s half-hard trouser meat sprang out of his open pants, a relieved sigh wheezing through his modulator. It was shaped like a wang dangler all the way up to the head, but there it was something else.

At his tip a circle of petal-shaped protrusions cinched together like the blossom of a flower right before it bloomed. The knobbed end of his thingy wept with clear juices, beading deliciously from between each little bud. Your eyes were locked to a particularly fat drop of precum as it slicked down his length to his base where you found another feast for your eyes.

A hole.

He didn’t have balls, you guessed they were somewhere inside him, instead he had a fat, juicy cunt, his quivering cock growing from where a clit would be on a human. It was just as alien as his length, a dark cobalt that lightened to vibrant teal around sharp teeth that lined his widely spread folds. Those rightfully made you nervous, and fucking confused. What the hell are those supposed to latch on to? Me?!

“I’m disgusting, I know.” He whispered, turning away from you to study the wall while you studied his excitables.

“What? No you’re not, you’re… you’re beautiful.” He snapped back towards you, his visor searching your star-struck eyes for the hint of a lie, but there wasn’t one. He was looking at you, but you weren't looking at him, you were looking at him, straight through his groin into his vulnerable soul. There was just so much, and you wanted to touch all of it. Reflexively you licked your lips, wondering if he tasted as good as he smelled. Your fingers crept forward, hovering inches from his cerulean length. “Can I?”

A sharp inhale echoed in the cubby, followed by a stark nod. “Be gentle… it’s... argh… sensitive!”

“Shhh, Mando, I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you.” Your fingertips met his heated flesh, making him shudder and groan. His strange length twitched from your touch, making another pearl of precum shimmer from the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking the velvety length that weighed heavily against your palm. His helmet hit the wall with a deep, guttural moan, sending molten waves of heat to your own growing need.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck mesh’la...your hands are amazing.” The man purred, letting his arms fall from his belly to his sides where his fists tangled in the threadbare sheet. His hips thrust upwards into your slow tugs, rutting into your palm. In the tight quarters the mouthwatering scent of honeyed fruit grew stronger until you were sucking down your own spit to keep it from flooding your mouth.

“Hehe, yeah? You like this?” You flicked your wrist in languid spirals, running your thumb over the weeping blossom to drag warm slick down his length and towards your second goal. His toothy slit parted for you as you got closer, the pearly white fangs curling away from you safely. With one hand still on his beef, you rubbed your fingertips around his flushed hole, sinking a digit down to the knuckle.

“Yes.” he moaned breathlessly, his womb jiggling when he convulsed from your touch. You sank another finger inside, scissoring him open while you fisted his cock. “K-keep doing that and... and…” His heels scooted on the mattress when he clenched around you, his swelling length pulsating in your hand. A needy whine busted out of his modulator, and between your sunken digits you felt something grow.

“Go ahead, Mando, come on my hand, or in my hand, I don’t care. That’s a good boy.” He bucked into your steady thrusts, lost in the combination of filling and being filled. His walls fluttered around your fingers, and you felt something press against you when he bore down, but instead of something popping out of his cunt, something went up his length.

*Pop!*

From the tip of his spear, a bright orange ball sprang from him, surprising you so much you let go of his throbbing shaft and pulled your fingers from his slit. Excitedly you plucked the egg from where the halo of petals parted, presenting the orb to you like a priceless gem. “You did it! Look, Mando, it’s a… ball! Congratulations.” You were beaming, so proud of yourself for midwifing him through the process, but he was shaking his head.

“There’s more… and… and I’m starting to get desperate. You got me started, I can take it from here. Thank you for your help.”

“I’m not leaving til you’re done, but let me go find a bucket or something to… oh no!” In your hand the soft shelled egg started to dissolve and wither in the dry air, turning into goo that dribbled down your arm. “Oh shit! Oh shit Mando I’m so sorry! I-I don’t know w-what happened!”

“No no… It's alright.” He shook his head, bringing a hand up to caress his swell. “They never make it. It’s ok though, it's not like they’re fertilized. Please leave me now, your hands aren’t going to tide me over for long, and I don’t want to do something I’ll regret.”

“You keep saying that! I don’t understand, why do you think that you’ll-”

“Because I want to breed you.” The singular black eye of his visor snapped viciously towards you, making you pale. “I’m sorry, but it’s all I can think about. It’s been getting worse the closer I’ve gotten to my heat, but I don’t want to do that to you, I respect you too much. Please… forgive me.” He looked away from you shamefully, but his luminous length was still pulsing with the rapid beating of his heart. “I think being around you is why I’m so full, you’re just so damn beautiful… a-and I want you.”

Maybe it was the sickenly-sweet spice that he was putting off, or the cum soaking your hands, or even the vulgar fantasies that you imagined to yourself in the night, but you were intrigued. “You wanna do what now?”

“Breed you.” He growled, his voice so dark and sinful everything inside you clenched around nothing. “Fucking stars ever since you stabbed the cantina table I’ve wanted to be inside you. Feel your pretty little pussy squeezing me, hear those sweet moans you make when you’re alone at night… yes I can hear you. You’re louder than you think you are. But I want to be the one making you scream.” His growls turned to forced laughter. “I wish I’d gotten to before...this.”

“I don’t mind this…” You hummed, dragging your fingers along his velvety length, but he caught your wrist again, shaking his head.

“Stop, before I can’t hold back anymore.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back.” You batted your lashes at him and bit your lip, leaning seductively towards his hunkered body. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, and I don’t know what I’d do to you, what my… ugh… eggs… would do to your body.”

“Maybe we should… find out?”

“You don’t know what you're asking.”

“Neither do you.” With that you rolled forward to kiss at his big blue eel, making him curse out your name and grab a fistful of your hair.

“Mesh’la…”

You hummed and lapped at his crown, his nectar tasting even better than it smelled. Sweet and succulent, driving you crazy with need. Your venomous tongue could be so kind when it wanted to be, swirling around his knobbled head and flicking at his frenulum. Beneath you he was a mess, writhing and bucking with desperation. Lips slick with spit, you sank your mouth as far down as you could take him without gagging, fisting the rest with one hand and teasing his cunt with the other.

Fingers digging into your scalp, Mando fought the urge to fuck your throat raw, your obscene sucking threatening to toss him right over the edge. You hollowed your cheeks and spun your tongue, lapping around each sensitive bean and plunging into his slit to drink him down.

His muscles swelled and clenched with another pass, and you barely were able to pull your mouth away when a new sphere spat out his tip, rolling away from you to melt elsewhere. “Mando, they’re going to waste, what are we going to do about that?”

“Take your fucking clothes off so I can fuck them into you, pretty girl.” He was gone, the husk of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me breed you properly, make you mine. Show you what it means to be mated by a Mandalorian.”

You obeyed, rocking back on your haunches to peel your shirt away, releasing your breasts into the hot, steamy space. The black swath of void where his eyes should be drank in the sight of you as if you were the last glass of water on Tatooine, his hand coming up to pinch at your pert nipple. “These are beautiful. I’ve dreamed about these for so long, but they’re so much better in person.”

“They taste better, too.” You crawled over top of him, your knees in between his, waving the heavy dewdrops in front of his armored face. “You wanna?”

“My creed…”

“Party pooper. Fine, then you better help me open up, you’re packin’ more than I think I can fit.” You’d taken lovers before, once you’d even taken a Wookie on a drunken dare, and if it wasn’t for the persistent wet dog smell it might have been the best sex you’d ever had. But Mando was thick, and even thicker when his cock swelled to push out an egg.

“Are you really ok with this? You’re not just saying…”

“Mando~” You purred, pressing your softness against his pulsating length, shivering when you felt his fangs scrape your thighs. “Breed me. They’ll just melt back out anyway, what’s a little...fun?”

He reached a hand up tentatively to your face, his helmet shaking slightly from side to side while he hunted in your eyes for any resistance, any clue that you were just saying that to make him feel better, but he found none.

“How did I get so lucky…”

“You’re about to get even more lucky.” You teased, taking his hand from your cheek to pry the black and yellow glove off, chucking it somewhere behind you. The flesh of his hand matched the flesh of his groin, a soft golden tone that looked like it was kissed by the sun, but not once had you ever seen him bare an inch. It was also very human, looking much like your own, save for the length and thickness of his fingers and the dark hair that grew from his knuckles. They were very much the hands of a man.

Yay!

Your pants fell away next, disappearing out of the cubby and onto the floor with the collection of empty ration tins and discarded armor. Naked as the day you were born, you clambered over him and flopped against his side, letting your legs fall open. “Touch me, Mando, get me nice and ready to be bred.” He growled against you, rolling on his side and cradling you to his chest so he could easily sink his fingers into your fluttering heat.

“Fucking stars, you’re soaked. This all for me?” You nodded and whined, your eyes rolling back when he dove one finger inside, then a second, curling them upwards to find that hidden patch of nerves you could never really reach on your own. “Gonna get you nice and open, make you cum so you can take my clutch. Would you like that, mesh’la, want me to fill you up? Swell your belly full?”

You mewled at the debauchery of it all, blissed out of your mind as he finger fucked you relentlessly. His fingers sank into you all the way to the knuckle, his thumb drawing tight, diligent circles on your clit. Mando snaked his free arm under your neck, pulling you in close to his muscular body and leaning his helmet against your brow. The cold metal burned against your sweating forehead, the steam of his breath coiling out from under the sharp iron edge with every ragged breath.

“That’s it, come for me, beautiful. Almost there.” Your nails dug into his clothed shoulders and made you realize he was way more dressed than you were. Need to fix that. With shaking knees you squirmed and writhed on his slick hand until he brought you over the edge, your walls trying to break his fingers as you came, drenching the thin sheets. “Good girl, such a perfect little cunt. Give me one more, cyar’ika.” All his gentleness evaporated as he thrust into you, his thumb pressed to your sensitive button and making you fall apart all over again.

“Fuck me, Mando, please! I want you in me, you’re not the only one with wet dreams, y’know.” He rumbled a laugh and pulled his arm out from under your neck and his fingers from your sopping mess, dragging the wet of it across your bare thigh. Hauling himself up, he moved until he was between your legs, pulling his remaining glove off and working to undo his flack.

With bated breath you watched him hurriedly undress, wondering what other fun alien treats he was keeping from you. As the dark fabric fell away, your eyes were gifted with the sight of his body, though besides the wandering blue tiger stripes and his obvious non-human bits, he was remarkably close to a man.

Except for the parts of him that were glowing.

Strings of faint teal lights followed the flow of his body, mixed intermittently with yellow stars. It wasn’t enough to illuminate the little alcove, but it was a beautiful sight nonetheless, a constellation of stars you could call your very own.

His chest was wide and muscular, a trail of dark brown hair dusting down his sternum and over the swell of his middle. His arms and shoulders looked like tree trunks, ribbons of countless scars marring his flesh with shimmering whites and pinks. Pushing his pants all the way off gave you an even better view, though he had considerably more glow streaks further down his legs, spanning from the sapphire spire around his hips.

He was fucking gorgeous.

What does his face look like, then?

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you, right?” He asked sweetly, grabbing his beast and dragging the leaking head against your thirsty little cunt. You bucked your hips up to him, trying to notch him in your entrance, but he pressed his tip into your clit to make you writhe. “Tell me, I need to hear it.”

“Yes, Mando, now please please fuck...me!!” He snapped forward and thrust his appendage into you, bottoming right out even though his full tummy was in the way. He held himself still, his body shivering with delight as your excited walls rippled around him. Deep inside you felt the little buds at his tip teasing at the tight ring of muscle that protected your innermost sanctum, politely asking for entry.

“Fuck-ing Maker, I knew you would feel good, but...ah… so much better than I ever imagined.” You giggled at him, reaching out and rubbing the taut flesh of his abdomen where it sat heavily against your own, rocking your hips side to side. His fingers dug into the skin of your knees with a broken curse, trying to hold you still. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna…”

“What? This?” You arched your hips into his, trying to coax him into gear. “I didn’t know you were such a tease, tinman.” His helmet vibrated with a growl before he was sliding himself out, making sure you felt every inch of his length drag along your walls. The head of it almost managed to drop out, sitting tantalizingly at your gates before thrusting into you with reckless abandon.

You shrieked, impaled on his otherworldly spire again and again, the noise of it wetly echoing in the cubby. Above you he grunted with the strain, hooking his elbows under your knees and going to town. You were helpless, head rolling back, eyes fluttered shut as he filled you over and over again, moaning out his name.

Though he was lost in the heat of the moment, he wished the name on your lips was his real name, the one he had sequestered away when he took his oaths. Din. He fantasized about it in the night, the short syllable tumbling from your full lips, wet from sucking him dry. Din! He wanted to snuff out the sound of it with his own mouth, capturing your tongue and tasting you fully, plundering the hot wet hole that would so beautifully sing his song.

“Din!”

But Mando would have to do.

For now.

Both of you could feel he was getting close to something, his thrusts quickening with his breath. You felt your heartbeat gallop in your chest, thundering against the walls of its cage with excitement. He was gasping, struggling to pull oxygen in through the iron that protected his face. Hips snapped against yours, the slap of skin sounding obscene in the little space. You arched your back and bore down on him, your coiled muscles milking out his release.

And then you fucking felt it.

The clever little buds on his tip stuffed themselves into the cradle of your body, teasing your cervix open and leaving something behind. Inside you felt the soft little ball swell your womb sweetly, giving you a feeling of fullness you’d never experienced before. You keened from the sensation, bringing your hands up to your belly, searching for your treasure.

“Are you alright? Am I hurting you?” Mando asked urgently between broken breaths, a weathered palm coming up to caress your face. You tittered and nodded, his relieved sigh felt through your legs and stomach.

“Got any more for me, big boy?” You purred, dragging your nails through the soft hair on his bulging abdomen where he obviously did.

“You’re going to ruin me, cyar’ika.” The pulsating length stuffed inside you slid out slowly, stringing a line of precum from your slick heat to his flushed blue tip. “Get on your knees and I’ll show you how much more there is.”

Scrambling out from under him, you flipped yourself over like a slutty little pancake, presenting your ass in front of him to feast on with his eyes. The rough pads of his fingers dug viciously into your fleshy globes, making both of you groan. “Gonna give you all of me, beautiful. Tell me you want that?” He was trying to be dirty, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart flood with honeyglow.

“I want it, tinman, I wanna be full!”

A dark, lecherous laugh rumbled behind you while he lined himself up, rubbing himself over your slit before plunging in. Stars flashed behind your eyes when he hit your deepest reaches again, making you drop to your elbows. He circled the bones of your hips with his hands, squeezing and rubbing at your waist while you adjusted to the new angle. Impatiently you clenched around him, earning yourself a stinging swat on your backside that made you squeal.

“Bad girl, you have to wait.” He growled behind you, making you whine and earning yourself another spanking that was followed by a soothing palm. “You gonna be a good girl while I breed you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“‘Scuse me?”

“-snrt!-” You were having too much fun now, begging underneath him for friction with a roll of your hips, giggling through the cock-dumb grin on your face. “I’ll be good~”

“I know you will.” He slid forward, the angle hitting something destructive inside you, and you could tell he felt it. Memorizing your insides, he rocked forward again and again, building you up higher and higher to make you squirm. Fisting the sheets you cried when the lightning cracked up your spine, your cunt squeezing the life out of him and soaking him through. Your orgasm sucked another egg from his cock, the gentle weight sitting pretty next to the first.

“More…” you mumbled into the mattress, curving your ass up and brushing the underside of his swell. “Please…”

“You’re fucking perfect, mesh’la, so perfect for me.” His voice behind you sounded wildly different, lacking the gravelly modulation you’d grown used to, replaced with a rich baritone that tied your guts up in knots. Curiosity almost got the better of you, but before you could turn around to look at his bare face he covered your eyes, his broad palm spanning the entire width of your face. “No peeking. Be a good girl or you won’t get any more.”

He set his empty helmet down by your head, giving you something to look at if you could keep your eyes open, but his filthy cadence made your eyeballs roll back til they were gawking at your brain. Mando plowed you like his life depended on it, his fuckstick swelling inside your walls with each pass of his spend.

Reaching back, you rubbed your steadily-filling middle, the weight of his brood already making you show. Your devious digits kept going, fingertips teasing around where he melded into you, your lips stretched tightly around him. He jumped when you stuffed your hand back even further, careful not to catch on his goddamn crotchteeth to finger his cunt.

“Mesh’la!” He cried, bucking into you and pushing at least three more eggs into your womb with a single thrust. Above you he curled against your spine, his belly flattening while yours continued to swell. His arms left your hips to snake up your body, crossing between your breasts like a seatbelt and hauling you up off your elbows to his chest. Buckle up, buttercup! His sweaty pecs stuck to your spine while he kissed at the side of your neck.

You wanted so badly to look.

Instead you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the passionate kisses he pressed to your skin, his teeth grazing the tender flesh under your jaw. The fact that he even had lips crossed a few dozen species off of your list of possibilities, and even more when you felt the tickle of facial hair. Mando’s heated kisses tracked up your throat to nibble at your ear, his thrusting getting messy behind you.

“Can you cum for me again, beautiful? I wanna feel it.” The hand between your breasts slid up to your throat, pressing ever so gently while the second found your clit and spun devious little circles. His scruffy beard scraped your shoulder as you writhed on him, tears springing to your eyes with your crashing orgasm. “Mmph, that’s my good girl. So fucking perfect!”

His hips stuttered, slapping against your ass with a final burst, the fill of him swelling your middle to capacity, bouncing with fullness. Heavy, desperate breaths puffed against your skin as he came down from his high, caressing you with his hands and the sharp point of his chin; mumbling praises in your ear. “I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, look at you…”

At his purring you flickered an eye open, looking down past your breasts at where you were swollen with his clutch as if you were swollen with child. His broad palms danced along the taut flesh, sliding from your precious tummy to the drops of your breasts, his hums of contentment rumbling between you. His chest and abdomen were flush with your spine, his body returned to its natural shape while yours had changed so drastically.

Between your legs his spent cock throbbed, making your combined arousal drip down onto the destroyed mattress when it softened and released. You whined from the loss, whining louder when he sneaked his fingers inside, feeling your stretched walls and musing about how wonderful you felt.

You reached forward for his helmet, handing it back to him and trying not to look at the warped reflection of his face in its sloping surfaces. He took it from you gently, letting it sink over his face so you could get off of your knees. You flopped heavily over on your butt, sitting upright and petting your full womb with a blissed out look on your face.

He laid next to you, holding you close to his body as if you were his cute little wife expecting your first baby together, and not a pair of interspecies hunters giving in to your primordial needs. You leaned against him, sighing contently and watching his serpent retreat into his body, the rows of teeth biting together and showing you why he didn’t wear codpiece with his armor.

“That’s fuckin’ weird, dude.” You laughed, brushing a fingertip along the glistening enamel.

He winced behind you. “I know, I’m sorr-”

“No, I like it.” you crooned, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. “That was fun. How often did you say this happens?”

“About once a year, but… uh… I can still get hard, without a clutch, if that’s what you’re asking?” You nodded with a laugh, curling up against his side so your full womb rested on his hip. He sighed contentedly, drawing circles on your belly with his fingers. “How does this feel? Does it hurt?”

“No, not at all, actually feels good. Feels full. I like it, I’m almost sad that it’s not gonna last.”

“Me too, you look so good like this. I could get used to it.” You hummed in agreement, shifting your legs apart so that when the eggs withered and turned to goo they could easily make their way out.

Should be any second now.

The two of you waited, laying together in post-coital bliss, just enjoying the feel of each other’s bodies, tracing scars and stars, exploring the wonders you’d kept secret from each other.

You waited.

And waited.

The minutes ticked by, at first it was a blessing, giving you time to bask in the afterglow together, but as the minutes turned to quarter hours, then halfs, you started to get worried. “Mando? I can still feel them, they’re not breaking down.”

“I’m sure they will, they always do.”

“Ok…”

They didn’t.

Hours went by, and even after waddling to the fresher shower and trying to squat them out, the eggs remained. You got washed up, half morbidly, half exuberantly watching the way the fresher water dripped from your belly while you cleaned up.

Outside the shower you toweled yourself off, taking extra steps to dry under the swell of your womb, but you struggled to reach all the way around. Mando knocked on the door politely before letting himself in, dressed only in his helmet and pants. Dutifully he took the towel from you and got to the places you couldn't reach while you were carrying his potential young.

It was surprisingly intimate, maybe even more so than being stuffed full of his length. He started on your legs, between your thighs and up to their apex, then softly wiped at your tummy and hips. His deft hands dragged the towel under each breast, then your shoulders and arms, then lastly your neck; draping the wet fabric around you like a cloak when he saw your bunching brows. You looked nervous.

“We’ll figure it out, mesh’la, I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” He stated with determination, brushing his thumb down the curve of your cheek and turning your eyes to meet his visor. Your hair was still wet, and now so were your eyes, the first twinges of fear creeping into their corners. He didn’t like what he saw. “Close your eyes, lovely girl.”

You did, squeezing back the mist that was starting to form. He let go of you, and you heard the sound of something heavy and metallic being set down on the sink. The towel around your shoulders was lifted over your head, draping it over your face. You were about to give him hell, mad that he would want to hide your face when you were clearly getting emotional, but instead you felt the wet fabric being lifted as he joined you underneath.

Then he kissed you.

Warm, petal-soft lips pressed against your cold wet ones, suddenly surprising you before you melted into him. His kiss was as gentle as his hands that were making their way up to your jaw, holding you steady while he slotted his mouth to yours. He felt human, the edges of his teeth dull like yours, thankfully not sharp like the ones between his legs. Tasted human, too.

You kissed him back, darting your tongue out with an experimental flick, licking his plush lower lip. He inhaled sharply, caught off guard by your forwardness. His fingers coiled around the back of your head, tangling in your wet hair as his kisses grew in intensity. The smooth muscle of his mouth danced with your own, letting you both taste each other for the first time.

“Ner cyar’ika, I’ve waited so long for this.” he purred against your lips, his words heavy with adoration. He kissed you again, pulling you into himself hungrily and tickling your nose with his mustache. Your own hands came up, slowly dragging over the expanse of his chest to the sinewy length of his neck, and finally to the edge of his jaw.

“Can I touch your face, Mando? I won’t look with my eyes.” He nodded against your lips, his nose bumping the side of yours. Cautiously you wandered your fingertips along the edge of his jaw, the stiff bristles catching under your nails. He shivered with need when you scratched him, carding through his scruff like you were taming a massif.

His sharp jawline led you up his cheeks, their softness dusted with erratic bristles. You ran your thumbs under his eyes, exploring his cheekbones and the creases that bordered his large eyes. Pressing your forehead to his and pulling your lips away, you circled your thumbs down the sides of his well-defined nose to the line of hair above his lips. The creases that your hands found told you he wasn’t a young man, but he probably wasn’t too far beyond your age either.

And you imagined him to be very handsome.

It wasn’t until your hands found his ears that you remembered he wasn’t the same species as you. They were pointed, and sensitive if his little moans of pleasure were anything to go by.

“I don’t ever want you to see those, they’re ug- oh!” You cut off his self depreciation to tilt his head between your hands, pressing a kiss to each of his ears with a seductive puff of steam. “St-stop, you’re giving me goosebumps.”

“Stop being so mean to yourself, buckethead, only I can be the judge of that, and I bet they're cute!” He laughed, the sound warm and brassy, but not enough to distract you from your current predicament. “What… what are we going to do about… this.” You took each of his hands in yours and set them on your full belly, letting him caress his handiwork.

He sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead in the dark of the towel, his lashes brushing your skin when he dropped his brow to yours. You heard his lips part with a smile, imagining the way the wrinkles around his eyes would bunch, wistfully hoping that one day you could see them for yourself.

“Mesh’la I-… I have no idea."

Next->

If you liked this fic, check out Garden of Ishtar! It's chapter 9 in a series but can be read stand-alone. Enjoy~

TAG LIST:

@mrsparknuts @cookiejuicedesu @kaermorons @ironbabey @theflightytemptressadventure @emesispo @what-iwish-youknew @misscamptl @t3a-bag @poppunkdee @misscamptl @pandastasia @simpingmess @lilychristine01 @inaturenymph @buttercup--bee @blackd0gdesignuk @tanzthompson @transientblueseraph @jasmincita @sunnnygiiirl123 @beskarboobs @doin-stuff @marvelranger

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #self insert #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #smut

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harrieatthemet · 4 years ago

Text

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing.

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof.

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity.

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school.

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother.

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind.

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet.

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?”

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth.

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.”

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either.

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to.

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare.

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason.

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?”

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date.

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes.

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot.

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.”

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?”

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it.

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).”

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension.

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable.

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this.

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.”

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

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spearxwind · 3 years ago

Note

One thing I’ve noticed about the nine realms (and also maybe httyd3 I don’t remember it that well) is the seeming unwillingness to give the dragons weird names. I mean, sure, the first httyd has Night Furies and Stormfly and etc etc but it also has a Gronkle named Meatlug. Monstrous Nightmare. Deadly Nadder.

Now we’ve got Mist Twister and Featherhide and Gembreaker. It feels a bit like they’re trying to make it more marketable by getting rid of the funky names, which is a real shame because the funky names are so fun. The protagonist is named Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third for gods sake. I had to go and check what the dragons were called again in the middle of writing this because I forgot. Mist Twister will never be as memorable as Hideous Zippleback.

Anyway I’m mostly just here to say that gembreakers should be named like Shronkles or something

YOU ARE LITERALLY SO CORRECT there is so much charm that's been like... lost? In the name department. Definitely starting from the third movie but not for the reasons i thought. I was gonna look up what the evil dragons were called in that one (theyre deathgrippers, which sounds metal as fuck) and like. I fucking love those dragons so much but they were so underutilized. they were done so dirty

and like, there ARE weirdly named dragon species but they do NOT, i repeat do NOT get mentioned by species OR name in the movie. Not that I remember, anyway. Here's the wiki list for species in that movie

Sadly yeah there is definitely a downtrend in the naming charisma but i guess thats what happens when u run out of adjectives to slap at the start huh?? I think a majority of the problem is that, for a movie thats supposed to be about dragons they dont actually focus on the dragons, at all. In the first movie you get introduced to all of them and you get their personalities and you see them interact and act like real animals. Toothless included. In the second one you get some more of that too, but its less... charming imo. And then in the third one, the dragons get no protagonism at all. They are vehicles and flamethrowers. There is no personality to them other than 'funny/cool set piece' it retroactively goes against everything else that has been established previously. Toothless is reduced to a lobotimized cat squirrel.

And it's going to be the same case for the new show I bet (i've yet to hatewatch it) but yeah like. Theyve definitely lost all the charisma they had. Something I enjoyed about the OG movies were that the takes on the dragons were super super unique and they let them be ugly in a charming kinda way and were still, recognizeably, dragons. With what youd consider normal colorations for animals and such. And then.... they just kept devolving them movie after movie show after show. Theyre just caricatures now, not really recognizeable, not really colored in a believable way or gifted with personalities befitting intelligent animals. Its so sad

Man. remembering the movie is making me so fucking mad. Legit top ten most infuriating movies i have EVER seen, actually. it's still so mind fucking numbing that they decided to greenlight all of it. like, someone at dreamworks (many people, repeatedly) agreed to go forth with all those decisions. it is so disgraceful

#ask #anon #httyd #god sorry for the fucking sidequest but my god the third movie is literally so maddening. its so infuriating #wish it was legal to steal designs i would steal the deathgrippers kjlsfhskj THAT MOVIE DOESNT DESERVE THEM #IM REACHING FOR THEM.#sidenote number two but the zippleback is so fun bc the scutes on the back actually act as a zipper hence the name #and then at one point past the first movie they just. never use that aspect again #you barely see stormfly use the tail spikes too shes just kinda there. you dont get to see the kerosene flames from the nightmare #or the 'bad habit of covering themselves in fire'#toothless' flames past the beginning of the third movie lose literally all their impact and their range #and what even is the point of toothless lightning camo in the third movie. hes already jet black?? he doesnt need it to blend in #so like. what the fuck !! why is that there!! what is the purpose #legit everything past the first movie now makes me SO fucking mad

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valdomarx · 4 years ago

Text

Anon requested: Person A thinks that a proposal would be a great way to get out of a jam. Person B thinks it is a sincere proposal and accepts. Realizing it wasn't done from a genuine place leads to some upset.

In Jaskier’s defence, it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Marry me, Geralt!” he called, jogging over to his witcher, a little out of breath.

Geralt’s face pinched into something cross and Jaskier was sure he was about to be told to fuck entirely off.

“It’s the Belleteyn festival tonight,” he explained quickly. “I might have, erm, sown my seed a little more widely than would be advisable in the town.” Geralt scowled. “And there may have been some, ahem, threats against my person made by the local lord.“ Geralt’s scowl deepened. “But we can smooth it all over if we’re wed tonight. There’s some local custom -- forgiveness of past indiscretions for newly married couples on May Eve.“

Geralt was still glowering but he hadn’t said no yet. Jaskier pulled out his strongest move: He ducked his head, looked up at Geralt from under his lashes, and licked his lips. Geralt’s eyes followed the movement of his tongue almost imperceptibly.

��So marry me? Here. Tonight.”

It had been a lovely ceremony, as fake weddings go. There had been music and wine, dancing and merriment, and Geralt even allowed some of the local girls to braid flowers into his hair.

They’d only had enough coin for one ring, a simple silver band, so Jaskier had taken that and he’d given Geralt his father’s signet ring. He’d never have parted with it for anyone else, but it was Geralt. He knew without question he would keep it safe until this ruse was over with.

Perhaps there really was something magical in the air at that time of year, or maybe it was an evening spent at an increasingly raunchy celebration that did it. But after the festivities were over and the townsfolk returned to their homes, Geralt took Jaskier back to their campsite in the woods, laid him down on a bedroll with indescribable tenderness, and fucked him within an inch of his life.

It was everything Jaskier had been quietly fantasising about for years, except more because it was Geralt and even Jaskier’s profoundly vivid imagination couldn’t match the reality of his witcher, every glorious inch of muscle straining and taut, eyes blown wide with lust, taking Jaskier apart and piecing him back together again.

The next morning, Jaskier woke slowly, feeling the telling ache of a night well spent. Geralt was already up, packing up camp and loading their bags onto Roach.

“There’s oatmeal in the pot if you want breakfast,” Geralt grunted. “We should get going soon.” He turned back to his work.

Right. Okay. They just... weren’t going to talk about it then. Back to business as usual.

Jaskier shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Geralt would be as pragmatic about sex as he was about everything else. A way to get some relief, to meet a need. No expectations.

Hell, it had taken Geralt over a decade to admit they were actually friends. Jaskier felt stupid for even hoping for more.

Sleeping together had been a one time deal, it seemed. Too bad.

Jaskier realised he was still wearing the ring a few hours later. He should take it off, get rid of it. Maybe sell it at the next town.

He should ask Geralt for his father’s ring back too. But it seemed somehow rude to ask, too needy.

And he... well, he sort of liked catching glimpses of it decorating Geralt’s finger, like a tiny piece of Jaskier was with him wherever he went.

Jaskier found his thumb rubbing over the silver band around his own finger over and over again. It was silly, he knew, but he liked the feel of it. He would keep it for now.

After that, things got weird. At lunch, Geralt tried to persuade Jaskier to eat the last of the apples, as if he didn’t know their supply was running low. And at dinner, Geralt hunted and prepared two squirrels for Jaskier instead of the customary one. Jaskier would eat just about anything in a pinch, but charred rodent was not something he felt the need for seconds of.

Everywhere they went, Geralt kept trying to foist food on him. Did he think that Jaskier was weak? That he wasn't able to keep up without extra supplies? Jaskier was, admittedly, not as young as he used to be, but he thought he still measured up pretty well in the fitness department. He didn’t love the implication that he was falling short in some way.

At night, Geralt would lay out their bedrolls close together. Close, but never touching. When he laid down, Jaskier could feel Geralt’s breath on the back of his neck, and his chest ached with want.

He waited every night for Geralt to sneak an arm around his waist and pull him close, or to lean forward and whisper an invitation in his ear. Jaskier would be on him in a second.

But he never did, and every night Jaskier berated himself again for being so foolish and tried to push the thoughts from his mind. It was hard being so close and yet so far from what he truly wanted, but he wouldn’t force Geralt into a situation he wasn’t comfortable with.

After a week of this Jaskier was truly beginning to lose his mind, and it was a relief when they came upon a small town where they could rest for the night. Jaskier could go out, find some company and distract himself from the hopeless longing settled in his bones, even if only for the night.

When he announced his intention to look around the town, Geralt said he would come along too. That wasn’t ideal for Jaskier’s plan of distraction, but he’d make it work. He always enjoyed Geralt’s company anyway.

There wasn't a lot going on in the town, but there was a pretty barmaid in the tavern, a cheerful red-haired lady with exuberant freckles and strong curves. She flashed a smile at Jaskier the moment they walked in.

Perfect. He smiled back, ordered two drinks, and set to flirting outrageously with her. She giggled and teased back, not seeming intimidated by Geralt‘s presence, even though he was growing notably testier as their interactions became more charged.

When she reached over the bar to twirl a finger through Jaskier’s hair, Geralt actually growled.

She backed off and looked at Geralt. “Didn’t mean any harm,” she said. “I’m just being friendly. Unless...” She looked down at their hands on the bar, apparently noting their rings, and then back to Jaskier. “Unless you’re spoken for. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” Jaskier said with a laugh, just as Geralt said, “Yes, actually, we’re married.”

Jaskier stared at Geralt. Geralt stared at Jaskier. The barmaid held her hands up in the universal gesture for “none of my business, nothing to see here” and backed away to wipe down a table.

Every muscle in Geralt’s neck was tense and throbbing, and Jaskier had no idea what to say.

“Geralt,” he began, carefully. “is this about the other day? The ceremony? Did you... Did you think that was for real?”

Something pained flashed across Geralt’s face, an expression more raw than any Jaskier had seen on him before. Then he stood, turned, and bolted from the tavern.

“Geralt!” Jaskier called, getting to his feet. “Geralt, wait!”

By the time Jaskier was out of the door, Geralt was already disappearing down the dirt road, not turning back.

Ahh, fuck.

Jaskier left the girl at the tavern with a hurried apology, pausing only to throw their various possessions into bags and to load up Roach before heading out after Geralt. He knew bugger all about tracking, but he knew the direction Geralt was heading, and after that he relied on Roach’s instincts. She at least seemed confident in what to do.

He caught up to Geralt less than a mile outside of town. He was sat alone in a copse of trees just off the road, staring at the leaves.

He didn’t flee as Jaskier approached, though he didn’t turn to look at him either. “Geralt? I’m sorry. I was thoughtless. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Geralt stood slowly and turned to face him, though he avoided making eye contact. “It was a misunderstanding.” Geralt’s face was carefully blank, a look Jaskier recognised from times he was trying very hard to hide his emotions. “A wrong assumption on my part about the seriousness of the ceremony at Belleteyn.”

“Holy hell, Geralt.” Jaskier’s mind reeled. Geralt thought they had really been getting married, and he had been okay with that? “Does that mean... Would you actually want to be married to me?”

“It was stupid,” Geralt gritted out. Anyone else would have thought he was angry, but Jaskier knew him well enough to see he was hurt. “To think it was anything more than a distraction.”

No no no, that wasn’t right at all. Jaskier tried to take Geralt’s chin in his hand but Geralt turned his face forcefully away.

“Is that why you’ve been acting strange?” Jaskier thought back on it: the gifts of food, the aborted attempts at closeness, the feeling Geralt’s eyes on him constantly, checking his well-being.

“I thought...” Geralt wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I thought you wanted things to be normal. Like they always were.”

“If I were married to you for real, I wouldn’t act like everything was normal!” Jaskier exploded. “Damn it, Geralt. I’d kiss you every morning and hold you every night. And I’d tell everyone we met -- everyone -- that I was the luckiest person on the continent, because this is my husband, the one and only Geralt of Rivia, and he’s the best man I’ve ever met.”

Jaskier shut his mouth. Too late, though. Too late to take any of that back.

Geralt’s brow was pinched, though it didn’t quite look like a frown. It almost made him look thoughtful.

Finally he looked at Jaskier raised an eyebrow. “Every morning?”

Jaskier felt all the fight leaving his body in one grand sweep. Geralt let him push him to his knees on the ground and allowed Jaskier to flop into his lap. Jaskier brushed a strand of hair from his face. “I’ve thought about kissing you every day for years,” Jaskier confessed.

And then he saw it -- one of Geralt’s oh-so-rare smiles. Not the forced grimace he adopted when he needed to look nonthreatening, or the tolerant lip twitch he’d give Jaskier when he was trying to be funny. No, this was a genuine Geralt smile, more precious than gemstones, the kind that lifted his entire face and reached his eyes.

Geralt threaded a hand into the back of his hair, brought their faces closer, and kissed him. At the touch of their lips every part of him went boneless, held up only by Geralt’s arms and a determination to make as much bodily contact as he possibly could.

His head was spinning by the time they pulled apart for air. Geralt’s eyes were sparkling, and Jaskier could have lost himself in that sight for the rest of his life and considered himself a lucky man.

Geralt leaned their foreheads together. “Will you stay with me?” he asked, very quietly. “Even if all I can offer you is charred squirrel and sleeping beneath the stars?”

“Always,” Jaskier promised, without a shadow of a doubt. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Through the good and the bad, the injuries and the pain, the plenty and the lean times. Through it all, he wanted to be with Geralt.

Jaskier took Geralt’s hand in his and slotted their fingers together. Their rings lay next to each other, the elaborate gold of Jaskier’s crest shining against Geralt’s pale skin and the smooth silver encircling his own finger like an embrace.

It was all startlingly clear. “Marry me, Geralt,” he said, his heart welling over. “For real this time.”

#as usual roach is holding the brain cell #geraskier #the witcher #my writing

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dangerousstrawberryshark · 4 years ago

Text

It was all a lie | Part 2

Possessive Father Shawn Mendes x Male Reader x Boyfriend Tom Holland.

(couldn’t come up with a good title. also why does Tom look sick in the photo I picked?)

Shawn is 32. You and Tom are 19.

Warnings: Not that many. slight yandere behavior.

Summary: your name is M/n Mendes and you are the son of Shawn Mendes. You thought he was like any other dad, but that changed when you turn 13. He began to tell you not to play with your friends and how they didn’t care about you. He began to isolate you so you could depend on him. Now you are 18, and your father’s obsession grew. But what he doesn’t know is that you have a boyfriend and his name is Tom Holland.

M/n: Male Name

L/n: Last name

Word Count: 2256

Not a Poly-relationship by the way!

Hope you enjoy! sorry if it bad! This was rushed so there is going to be a lot of grammar mistakes!

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DISCLAIMER: I MEAN NO OFFENSE, DISRESPECT, OR HARM TO ANY OF THESE CELEBRITIES! THIS IS JUST FICTION.

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MINORS DNI. FEMALE READERS… I’LL ALLOW YOU TO READ MY FICS BUT DO NOT FETISHIZE ANY OF MY STORIES

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FLASHBACK (Nine Years ago. When the reader is 10 and Shawn is 23.)

Shawn’s POV

I was walking down the path, the autumn leaves were blowing in the wind, I could hear the dogs barking, probably at a squirrel they saw, and the cheers of kids playing in the playground.

I always wanted a kid. A perfect kid, but I could never find the right girl. I was walking pasted the playground when I noticed a young boy who looked at least 10 years old. He was playing and I could see his parents watching him.

I, of course, stopped staring or I’ll alert his parents who were looking around. ‘I want him… I want him to be my kid. But how, I’m going to deal with his parents?’

‘I’ll play a good guy for now.’ I walked over and sat down on the bench where his parents were. They look like nice people and they were. “Hey, there young man.” I heard the lady say. “Hey,” I said waving and giving my iconic smile.

Time skip (30 minutes)

I and the kid’s parents have been talking for at least 30 minutes. They told me all about their kid, how he is smart, and how he is responsible. ‘I knew he would be perfect.’

Then I heard little footsteps coming our way and a little kid’s voice. “Mom, Dad!” the kid said while running over to us panting. “Yes, sweetie?” the mom looked over at her my-- well almost my son, her son.

“Can we go home--.” the kid stopped mid-sentence when he noticed me. He just stared, giving me that stank eye. I mean I don’t blame him, seeing a stranger talk to your parents, and then they have to introduce you to them. But I decided to talk.

“Hey, there kid! The name is Shawn. Shawn Mendes. Nice to meet you.” I gave my hand out. He hesitantly looked at me before shaking my hand. “My name is M/n. M/n L/n.” it looked like he didn’t want to see me.

“Ahh, yes sweetie we can go home.” the mom said while walking to her car, the dad and the kid followed. I just watched while they walked away.

Time skip (3 months)

It’s been 3 months since the last encounter we had. It has been 3 months since I’ve been plotting. And now today is the day I get to have you as my kid.

I was getting ready. The sun’s rays didn’t peak through my window. I had pictures of the family with x’s on the parent’s faces. My main goal was to have a perfect family, and getting that kid is step one in the process of it becoming reality. I went as far as buying a house for my family

After putting on my black attire, I grabbed my knife and put it in my pocket. I went downstairs to see boxes with my stuff in them, and they’ll be transported to the new house. I grabbed my car keys off the counter and made my way to my car with black tinted windows. Pulled out of the driveway and took a 2-hour drive

Time skip (2 hours)

M/n POV

I and mom and dad are having my F/D. My mom’s cooking is the best, sometimes. We were just talking about random things like how I’m doing in school, and you know how your parents say, “Soooo, has anyone caught your eye.” like Mom, I’m only 10… why?

Anyways, we were just eating until we heard a knock on the door. “I’ll go see who is at the door.'' Dad got up and walked to the door. I could hear his footsteps getting closer. I just stared and she stared as we were wondering who was at the door.

Just then we heard something hit the ground, it sounded like a body. Then we heard footsteps coming closer, I could hear my mother come up from the chair and grabbed me. In the kitchen was a man dressed in all black.

My mother quickly pulled me and we went to the master bedroom. “Sweetie, I need you to stay here. Whatever happens, you don’t come out until I tell you to. Okay?” I was already crying but I nodded. She pushed me into the closet and closed the door but she kissed me on the forehead. “I love you, sweetie.” “I love you too mommy.” tears and snot were coming out.

I looked through the little slit (is that the right word?) in the door. I could see my mother grab something out of the drawer. It looked like scissors.

Just then the door to the master bedroom busted open. “Ahhhh.” I could see mom trying to fight the man with the scissors. But it didn’t work, he stabbed her in the neck. Mother collapsed in front of the door. I could see the life in her eyes fading away.

I held my breath trying not to attract the stranger. Then I heard the fire alarm go off. I still try to hold my breath but I hear the man’s footsteps getting closer. Then the door to the closet opened. The man grabbed me, knocking me out.

FLASHBACK OVER

M/n POV

I woke, finding myself in a room that looked like my old room, but the window was boarded up with steel. I got up and went to the door trying to open it. The door was also locked from the outside. I was in complete isolation.

After an hour or two of looking at the ceiling, the door opened. Shawn walked in. I charged at him but he quickly pulled out a taser and he shocked me with it. “You shouldn’t disobey your dad like that. going into his room where he told time and time not to go in there. But what did you do? You went in there anyways. Now, look where you are now.” Shawn said just looking at me with an unreadable expression. He then pulled something out and put it around my neck.

“What the hell is this?!” I yelled, touching the metal that wrapped around my neck. “Why, it’s a collar. But not just any collar. This collar cuts your head right off if it detects that you have left the house!” your mouth dropped at this and you looked at him with disgust.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you yelled trying to get it off but it didn’t work. “Nothing is wrong with me. I’m just preventing you from leaving me.” he smiled like nothing was wrong, and then he just walked out. ‘Tom please come save me....’

Meanwhile with Tommy.

Tom POV.

It took an hour before I arrived. I made sure that M/n dad isn’t. Lucky his car wasn’t in the driveway.

I got out of the car, beginning to walk up the stairs. The floor creaked as I walked giving an eerie vibe. I knocked on the door but I realized it was opened. ‘Weird… why is the door unlocked?!’

I walked in calling out. “HEY! M/n I’m here!” my voice echoed as I called out. I expected him to come running down the stairs, but he didn’t. ‘He’s in his room?’

I walked upstairs to go to his room but I noticed his father’s office room door was opened. ‘Weird. Why is it opened? Didn’t he say, he wasn’t allowed to go in there?’ I decided to investigate like how white people do in the movies. (This is not meant to be racist! It's just a joke!)

I opened the door to see nothing but M/n’s phone on the ground. ‘What the-?’ when I walked to the desk, I saw pictures? It looked like M/n when he was young. Then I saw pictures of two unknown people. The more I look at it, the more these people look like M/n!

I always thought it was weird how M/n looks nothing like his father. I began to put the pieces together. These people were his real parents! I immediately called 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?” the operator said on the other line.

“Ahh, I would like to report a kidnapping. My boyfriend, he's not here!” I said panicking.

“Alright calm down. What’s your address?”

“Uhh, the address is [insert random address]”

“Okay sir, help is on the way. Stay on the line for me.”

“Okay.” I was calming down a little but my anxiety was still soaring through the roof. My only thought was is M/n alright? ‘Don’t worry M/n I’ll find you.’

Time Skip (5 months)

No one POV

It's been 5 months since you were kidnapped by your “father”. 5 months and Tom was urging the police to continue the search. But during those 5 months, you were planning how to escape.

Of course, you couldn’t escape physically cause the collar would kill you instantly. But you’ve been a “good boy” so Shawn would sometimes let you out. Only on certain days though. Today was Wednesday, the day he would let you out.

He would leave for work and you have the house to yourself. You went downstairs to see Shawn’s phone sitting on the counter. ‘He left it here?’ you smiled as now you could call Tom, but you gotta hurry before Shawn realizes that he left his phone.

You dialled Tom’s number and the phone was calling him. “Hello, this Tom. who is this?” you felt at peace as you heard his voice after 5 months of being apart.

“Tom it's me M/n!” I yelled through the phone. “M/n is this really? Oh my god! Are you alright? Where are you?” Tom said frantically as he finally heard your voice. “I’m alright Tommy. I can send you the location. Please send help.” you hung up and sent Tom your location. It turns out that you were only 5 hours away. (Plot purpose.)

You quickly went upstairs to pretend you’ve been there.

Time skip (5 hours and 58 minutes later)

You heard the door open downstairs. Then footsteps running up the stairs, Shawn busted into your room. “You’ve been a bad boy. Don’t act like I knew what you did,” he said looking into your eyes.

You began to cry fearing what was going to happen but then you heard it. Police sirens. Then arrived. “This is the police! Come out with your hands up or we will use force!” you could hear him shouting.

“Shit!” Shawn said under his breath. He went outside into the hallways and opened the window to escape. You just sat there knowing. “This is your final warning!” the door busted open with policemen coming in. They scout the whole house looking for you and Shawn.

You see a policeman come into view and he alerts the others of his finding. You smiled as you were free but the only thing that was holding you back was the collar. You see Tom walk, and he immediately hugged you crying onto your shoulder, you hugged him back.

“After 5 months, I finally found you! Come let's get you out of here.” Tom said grabbing your arm but you told him to stop. He looked at you wondering why you weren't coming with him. “Tom, I need you to get this collar off of me. If I go out… it will kill me!” Tom went down to get officers.

He came back to you after 10 minutes. “Don’t worry, they said they’ll get a tech guy to come and get it off,” he said smiling at you. He put his head against your head. Then he pulled you in for a kiss reassuring that it's going to be alright.

Time skip (7 months later)

It's been 7 months since the incident. They removed the collar after a good 2 hours. You decided you couldn’t live in the US anymore because you feared that Shawn would find you.

Tom invited you to come to live with him in Britain. You gladly accepted his offer. Your life has returned to normal.

You were far from the man that killed your parents and kidnapped you. But one day you got a call from the police. You were relieved at what they said. “Shawn Mendes has been found and he is being trialled for his crimes. But since there is a lot of evidence of his crimes, he’ll be found guilty.”

You told Tom the news and he was glad that man got what he deserved. Even though you were lied to about your life. You wouldn’t let that stop you from living happily.

THE END.

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 3362

#possessive #possessive shawn mendes #violence #kidnapping of a minor #yandere shawn mendes x male reader #father shawn mendes #shawn mendes x male reader #x male reader #boyfriend tom holland #tom holland x male reader #not a poly relationship #slight yandere #sorry if its bad

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heathenarmyimagines · 4 years ago

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Title: Find Us

Summary: (Y/N) has done her job, now Ivar must do his.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six,Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

The sleep came easily enough, even easier considering that you had gone all day with no rest and unbeknownst to you it was the most rest you would receive in months.

In the land of the living it had been three days and you hadn’t had a clue, for you it was just like any other dream. Time was irrelevant and nothing important to worry about as you walked around the abandoned market. With the information you now had you came to the conclusion that this was a Viking age settlement.

And just knowing that much made you eager to look around and see everything. How many people could say they had seen something like this? It would be an opportunity lost if she didn’t explore.

You were still in your hospital gown and had been barefoot before you found some shoes that were too big but they stayed on.

Viking mud is still mud after all.

There was so much to see, there were stands that had vegetables and fruits and less attractive ones that had dead animals hug up on display. Further into the market area you found jewelry and long stretches of fabric. Most were brown or white but others were absolutely gorgeous colors like red, blue and gold.

It was while you were touching a blue silk fabric that you heard something behind you.

Muddy footsteps.

It made a wet squishing noise; squish squish squish, getting closer but not at a rushed speed.

Whoever was behind you felt no need to rush.

You turned around; fully expecting to see the man with no eyes to be standing there with a new riddle for you to solve, but that wasn’t who it was.

It was you.

The woman standing before you had your face, she was older maybe in her twenties or early thirties, her hair was longer than you could imagine growing yours and it was in a braid that rested plainly over her shoulder. She was wearing a brown dress and leather shoes.

Despite how much you had looked into mirrors you had never seen yourself like this.

‘Y-you.’ you managed to say when you found the will to speak.

‘You.’ the woman smiled.

‘Do you know who I am?’ she asked as she stepped closer to you.

Instinctively you stepped back.

‘Your name is Wilda, you are a Saxxon woman.’ you replied.

‘I am, or maybe I was. It is hard to understand even for me, I have been dead for so long and yet here I stand speaking with you.’ she mused.

She walked over to the fabric you were just holding and rubbed it curiously.

‘I had been wanting this fabric when I died, the woman who made this was the best seamstress in all of Kattegat.’

‘Kattegat? Is that the name of this place?’

‘Yes, this is where it all began. This is where it all happened, where your fate was sealed with the Boneless One. I must apologize, for I am also responsible for involving you in all this, but please know I didn’t wish for any of it.’ she said sadly.

It was weird seeing yourself like this, it was like watching yourself in a movie but you had no memory of acting in it. Either way this woman...this you, was talking and it was understandable.

‘Can you tell me what happened, why am I involved and what will happen after Ivar accepts his past life?’ you asked.

‘I do not know it all, but I will tell you what I know, come walk with me, I want you to see something.’ she said as she began to walk away from the fabric stand.

You walked beside her, still keeping a bit of distance.

‘I was a child of the church, in York. When I was a small child the city was raided by the Sons of Ragnar and their Heathen Army. I barely survived but after they took over Ivar took me in as a slave.’

‘Why?’

‘I was often the apprentice to the healers after men would come from battle. I would take care of his legs with salves and oils. He hated me, it was simply a fact but he valued my care through the years.’

‘Why did you marry him?’

‘Years had passed and I’d seen him do...horrific things, he’d won great victories and suffered massive losses then all at once he was just losing. Battle after battle his plans failed him, he was losing his fame, becoming a joke among warlords.’

As the two of you walked past the last stand of the market she led you through a trail in the woods.

‘At his wits end he called on the seer.’

‘Seer? The man with no eyes?’ you asked.

She nodded.

‘He sees peoples’ fates and speaks with the Pagan Gods. He told Ivar that the Gods had abandoned him; that they had favored his father Ragnar despite the disrespectful way he viewed them, and they would not show Ivar the same mercy if he followed his father’s footsteps.’

‘Ragnar? I thought he was a myth.’

‘People spoke of him as if he were, but he was a real man with real feelings. Ivar loved him despite the strain his broken legs put on their relationship, and like his father he began to place too much pride in his own importance.’

‘Broken legs...he really couldn’t walk could he.’ you said in amazement.

‘Not on his own he made braces to keep himself upright, really they were amazing to see. Even I, who despised him, felt a small amount of admiration for his resilience.’

‘I grew up in his care, he never hurt me but he was cruel. When he came to me demanding my hand in marriage I didn’t understand. He told me it was life or death, he said he would have the church in York reduced to ashes if I refused.’

‘How romantic.’ you said sarcastically.

‘I thought so as well. From what was told to me Ivar had gotten everyone close to him cursed, exiled from all their nine worlds, left to wait for the reincarnations of both Ivar the Boneless and a Christian Girl to to reunite and his guilt alongside her love and forgiveness would be the light that lead them to Valhalla.’

‘My love?’ you asked in embarrassed shock.

‘Yes, you love him and I know it.’

‘How can you know something like that? Do you feel my emotions or something, because I’m not sure if it is more than a crush.’ you said in your defense.

Wilda laughed and was odd to hear it, you recognized it as your own laughter but you never heard from someone else.

‘My sweet girl, you are not the first reincarnation, and your Ivar isn’t the first either, if God wills it you will be the last.’

‘I’m not the first? How many have there been and what happened to them?’

‘They all end up here eventually.’ Wilda answered as at last the two of you had arrived at your destination.

You were in a large clearing. There was nothing else there to take your eyes away from what was in the center.

Two graves, both empty and two piles of dirt waiting to fill them in once there was a body inside.

Your heart was lead.

‘It is never painful, for any of them, you’ll just go to sleep.’

‘But I- I’m sleeping now...am I am I d-‘

‘No, you are alive outside I promise. All you have to do is wait, wait for Ivar to accept his faults and remorse.’

‘And if he doesn’t then what? You’re saying I can’t do anything for myself? What kind of misogynistic bullshit is this? I thought Viking women had rights of their own.’ you ranted angrily as you paced, looking away from the graves.

‘Unfortunately, I wasn’t Viking, even if I did follow their beliefs I was a thrall. I had no rights before my marriage and even with that title I was still Christian.’

‘So what? Just sit here with you and wait?’

‘Yes, do you have faith that your Ivar will save you?’

‘Of course!’ you shouted so suddenly that it surprised you.

All at once it hit you how much faith you had in Ivar, the one thing you had no doubt about was that he would do anything for you.

He cared for you, even if not romantically, he cared about you; and no matter what he had to do he would save you.

Or he would die trying.

‘Then wait.’ Wilda said sweetly.

Ivar’s POV

The last three days had brought about a lot of chaos.

(Y/N)’s family was devastated by the news, her siblings were scared and her mother was in complete shambles. Miss (Y/L/N) had called your father who flew out with his wife and other kids and had arrived on the second night.

His own family had been affected as well, he had been too shaken up and crushed by guilt that he couldn’t drive so he just sat in his car feeling sorry for himself and crying harder than he had since he was a child. His brothers ended up tracking his phone and once he had calmed down he explained what had happened.

No one in the Ragnarson family could ever remember seeing Ivar this distraught before, even his parents sat aside their marital issues enough to sit in the waiting room with Ivar and (Y/N)’s family.

It was strange to see for Ivar.

His family loved each other in their own odd constipated way, but they rarely got together like this. Even Bjorn and Lagertha showed up once, apparently they all wanted to be there for him but he suspected they just couldn't get over the fact that he had a friend.

Every day there were at least four people in the waiting room for (Y/N) and one of the most constant residents was Ivar.

He hadn’t even gone to school, all he could do was sit and watch...and think about things. Think about what he had to do, because no matter what logic told him he just knew this was his fault. She was a human vegetable and was because of him.

That thought alone made his head hurt, he was constantly taking pain killers that did little to ease his headaches.

He was on his phone watching the same video he had seen a thousand times it felt like.

The footage from (Y/N)’s sleep study.

Her mother had demanded the footage, in hopes to find some kind of clue about what led to (Y/N)’s sudden seizure. She expected to see an administration of medicine or maybe even a nurse sneaking in, anything to explain it.

Unfortunately there was nothing on the film that the doctors hadn’t already explained. For about an hour she was sleeping peacefully, a bit of uncomfortable tossing and then, like a firecracker had startled her, she shot up.

Her body convulsing as she thrashed around so violently that she fell out of the bed and if the visual wasn’t upsetting enough the scream she let out after she landed on the floor was absolutely blood churning.

She was screaming loud and shrill at the top of her lungs, all the while her body never stopped shaking, her limbs were endlessly flailing. The nurses and doctors had rushed in to restrain after only forty seconds or so but it felt so much longer to Ivar.

He watched how carefully Herald administered the sedative and the way (Y/N)’s body went immediately limp. Ivar closed the video once the doctors started hurriedly checking her vitals.

Ivar sighed and stood up to stretch, the joints of his shoulder blades cracking in protest as he did so.

‘Going home for the night Ivar?’ Miss (Y/L/N) asked as she yawned in her own chair.

‘No, just going to the restroom, might get a coffee.’ he assured.

‘Grab me one please.’

‘Of course.’ Ivar said happily.

He didn’t really need to use the toilet, just needed to move around. His legs were getting sore and he needed to take his pills and he preferred to do that in private.

‘I would have killed for a treatment like that in my life.’

The color drained from his face as he looked in the mirror and saw a most unwelcomed sight.

‘I get the feeling you don’t like me much...understandable I suppose.’ the old man said from behind him.

His heart suddenly swelled with anger as he turned and swung, ready to feel his fist connect with the bearded face of this bastard, but it didn’t.

All that happened was his fist went right through him, as if he were air, with nothing solid to connect to he stumbled to regain balance.

‘I’m sure had I been alive that would have been a solid attack, were you done or do you want to waste more time? Because your Christian doesn’t have much to waste.’ the old man said tiredly.

Ivar turned around and glared, but it softened a bit when he saw something he hadn’t noticed before in his anger.

The old man was standing.

There were unpainted metal braces on the viking’s legs that seemed to be the only thing keeping him up, along with the cane he was using.

‘Why are you here? Are you going to kill her now, brain dead not enough for you? She has nothing to do with this, whatever bullshit this all is, leave her out of it!’ Ivar shouted, not caring if someone heard him yelling to himself.

‘My Christian had nothing to do with my problems either, and had she been as selfish as I was she would have refused to take part. Then I would be cursed with no hope of redemption, and both of our Christians would have had longer and probably happier lives without us.’ he said tiredly.

‘But she was soft, she felt it was her stupid Christian duty to help others over herself. Despite her resentment for me, and mine of her, she agreed to help my family and for that I want to repay my debt to her. In order to do that I need you to see me.’

‘I do see you.’ Ivar argued.

‘No. You see an old man in strange clothes but you don’t see yourself in me at all do you? It's frustrating because you are the last and most important piece to this complicated puzzle. The Christian, her job was to find us, you and me, now you have to see us. Really look at me and see yourself...she will die if you don’t and the loss of her will drive you mad.’

He felt like ripping out his hair in frustration, Ivar had never been this angry. In his youth anger was the backbone of his personality, he was angry because his legs hurt, he was angry he couldn’t talk to anyone other than his brother because he didn’t have any friends, he was always angry. But this was pure rage; red hot and scalding, he was angry because he was terrified.

‘What do you mean she will die?’

‘Her body is here where you can see it, but her essence is in the void between the nine worlds and a living person can only stay there a short while before their body lets them go completely. Please if not for me and my family or yourself do it for her.’

For her, all at once his anger left him.

‘J-just look at you?’ he repeated.

‘See me...and look into you.’

Ivar felt like fire ants were covering his entire body, his stomach felt ready to rid itself of the crappy hospital lunch he’d had earlier, his heart felt like it was frozen in ice; and all that paled in comparison to his headache.

He had only met the eyes of the old man for a few seconds and already he wanted nothing more than to look away.

For her.

Ivar dug his nails deeply into the palms of his hand as he held the man’s gaze.

‘There you go, see me...see all we have done.’

Then as if zoomed in like a scene from a movie he could see images in the blue pupils, and what he saw made him want to look away even more.

He saw...a boy with a dirty face it looked like he was trying to pull something, suddenly he felt like there was something leather in his hand and he pulled it back he felt the boy in the eye pull it back and suddenly he struck his hand out with all his might and watched as the boy in the eye was hit in the head by the blade of an axe.

‘No!’ he gasped in horror.

‘Don’t look away, no matter how terrible or how ashamed. Do not look away.’ the viking said, but his voice was different now. It wasn’t as hoarse as before it appeared to be...younger in a way.

The boy faded away and he saw something worse than the boy.

‘Sigurd?’

In the eye there was his brother, his hair long, his clothes strange and he was talking and Ivar wished more than anything that he couldn’t hear what his own brother was saying, but he did, clear as a bell in his mind was his older brother’s voice.

‘It must be hard for you now that your mummy’s dead. Knowing she was the only one who ever really loved you.’ Sigurd said in a strange dialect as he sipped something from a chalice.

Hurt and anger swelled and he felt something wet and thick touch his lip and distantly his mind realized his nose was bleeding heavily, again his arm jerked forward and watched an axe fly and plant itself in his brother's ribs.

‘Sigurd…’ he whimpered as his eyes began to overflow with tears.

If anyone came into this restroom they would see him standing still as a statue, staring into space as his nose bled like a red river and his eyes leaked like faucets.

‘Don’t look away, don’t run from what you have already done.’

‘Sigurd...Siggy I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-’ he choked on the lump in his throat, the blood from his nose leaked into his mouth as he spoke and the taste was horrid but it felt nostalgic in a horribly gruesome way.

Again the image in the eyes changed and this one was more than the image it practically sucked him in like a portal.

No longer was he in a hospital restroom; he was in a stone building and there was so much noise, loudest of all was a baby crying. He could recall this, the dream, the one he remembered in the truck that night with (Y/N) the one that made his nose bleed.

This time it was so much more, it felt like his brain was exploding in his skull, he felt an aching throb in his ears but it didn’t compare to the horror he was seeing and hearing.

He could smell burning flesh, feel the heat and as the melted gold poured into the crying man’s mouth; the screams would haunt him until his last breath.

In horror he felt his chest shake in laughter.

Just when Ivar thought he would pass out from the pain in his head he felt something he hadn’t felt in years. His legs were breaking under his weight, but that wasn’t possible, he had titanium bones, they could never break but still he felt it. Even worse so he heard that familiar cracking noise as he fell to the floor.

‘Hold strong, we both know you can take more than this, and there is so much more to see.’ now Ivar was certain the voice he heard wasn’t the voice of an old man.

That was his own voice, and he suddenly processed that he wasn’t being sucked into the eye, but the eye was moving closer to him.

No longer was the phantom standing on crude braces as an old and ragged man. Now he was crawling, using his strong arms to pull himself along, his legs dragging behind him like a useless tail.

More than anything Ivar wanted to look away and see what the face of this man looked like now but he couldn’t.

For her… for (Y/N).

He stilled himself and tried to brace himself for more pain he was sure would come.

He had been right, more pain came and no amount of preparation would have made him ready for it.

A thousand or a million images flashed in the eye going so fast it shouldn’t have been possible to follow each one, but he could. Not only did he see and comprehend each image he felt them.

He saw the light go out in a fat man’s eyes as someone was chopping into his back with an ax, he felt the muscles in his arms ache with the effort it took to stab through the muscle and bones of a man in the heat of battle.

That was when he realized that these images, these senses were all things he’d seen and experienced before.

These were his dreams.

‘Yes, you are remembering. That is good, almost done now; look at me.’

At last that horrible eye closed, and Ivar nearly collapsed in relief, but he kept just enough energy to look up at the face that carried the eye.

There was no longer a beard to hide anything from view he could see the face in front of him with complete clarity.

This truly was his face, it was like looking into a mirror but this mirror showed what he looked like before.

‘Finally...you see me.’ He smiled.

#ivar the boneless #ivar lothbrok #ivar ragnarson #ivar imagine #ivar x reader #vikings #modern!vikings #vikings imagine #Find us Series #The Seer

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orangeoctopi7 · 3 years ago

Text

All of Your So-Called Problems

[AO3 link]

Stan was trying to find room for the leftover Mac and Cheese in the fridge when he heard the doorbell. He grumbled a few obscenities under his breath as he trudged towards the door. He was NOT in the mood for visitors tonight, even if they might be paying customers. The fact that a demon was trying to break into the house to steal some world-ending piece of junk from Ford didn’t help.

"We're closed!" He shouted before he even peeked out the window. He pulled back the blinds just enough to glare at whoever thought it was a good idea to drop by this late, and his eyebrows raised nearly to his receding hairline when he saw who it was.

"Wendy!? Since when do you knock?" Stan couldn't think of a single time she hadn't just come in and made herself at home since she'd started working at the Shack.

"Since Dipper told me you answered the door with a loaded gun earlier today." The teen answered as Stan opened the door.

"Gonna have to have a talk with that runt about blabbing." Stan rolled his eyes. "What, you having a movie night with the kids?"

"Not exactly." The teen jerked a thumb over her shoulder, and Stan finally noticed the rest of the Corduroy family standing just behind her, right off the porch. They were all carrying sleeping bags and pillows.

"...Wha?" Stan could only utter a surprised grunt as his brain tried to piece together why it looked like the entire Corduroy family was here for a sleepover.

"Dipper called me and said we could stay here until your brother puts up a barrier around our house." Wendy explained, noticing her boss's confusion. "...Aaand he never even told you anything about it, did he?"

"He sure didn't." Stan deadpanned.

As if on cue, Dipper and Ford both stepped into the entryway.

"Oh, Wendy, you're here already!" Dipper said, voice dripping with faked surprise. "I forgot to ask Grunkle Stan if it was ok for you guys to stay the night. But gosh, since you're already here, I guess we can't turn you away!"

"You can drop the act, bucko, I wrote the book on It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission." Stan folded his arms disapprovingly. "The answer's still no. We're already putting up one freeloader."

"I'm the one who said they could stay." Ford said firmly.

Stan turned his glare to his brother. "This isn't a safehouse, genius!"

"It's my house, Stanley!"

"Where are they even gonna sleep!?"

"Well, perhaps we'd have some place to put up guests if you hadn't turned the two largest rooms into a tourist trap!"

"Oh, like you kept the place ready for company when you lived here!" Stan countered. "These rooms were both filled to the brim with your weird experiments when I got here!"

“Hey, we can sleep outside like men, if it’s too much trouble to put us up!” Manly Dan interrupted the brothers’ argument.

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option.” Ford shook his head. “The barrier barely extends past the front porch.”

Ford quickly took a mental survey of where there might be extra room. The basement lab was out. He’d finished dismantling the portal, but he was storing the rift down there for now. His secret study was supposed to be a secret, and he still needed to clear out all that old Bill memorabilia. The attic was already taken by Dipper and Mabel. Stanley still had the main bedroom, and Fiddleford was currently sleeping on the couch in the upstairs study. That left the den, which might be large enough for one or two people, but certainly not a family of five. If only Stan hadn’t filled his old experiment and specimen rooms with useless junk! Sure, the rooms hadn’t exactly been empty before, but Ford at least would have known what things could be moved where to make room for their guests. Even his old thinking parlor was… wait…

“What about the parlor?” The old researcher asked.

Stan shrugged. “I kinda use it as a space for rotating exhibits, or whatever else I need at the time. Pretty sure it’s still full of leftover campaigning junk.”

“So, nothing we can’t throw out then.”

“Not so fast, genius, I still haven’t agreed to letting anyone stay here.”

“This is an emergency, Stanley!” Ford fumed. “And besides, it’s not your decision to make!”

Stan regarded the Corduroy family still standing awkwardly on his porch, and tried to imagine Manly Dan with those disturbing yellow eyes he’d seen on that time traveler earlier. He tried to picture the hulking lumberjack acting like that erratic demon. It was not a pleasant thought.

“Alright, fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But only because I don’t want any of these ax-weidling giants possessed by a triangular serial-killer. And don’t expect me to provide any bedding or food!”

“Yeah, we can probably snare ourselves a few squirrels or something.” Wendy’s oldest brother assured Stan.

Stan grimaced. “On second thought, help yourselves to some canned meat. Only the stuff that’s expired though!”

“Thanks Stan.” Wendy said. “For giving us a place to stay until this blows over, not for the expired meat.”

“What? They pad that date out by at least a year. As long as it smells fine, it’s good to eat.” Stan defended himself.

The teen rolled her eyes but stepped into the Shack, followed by her family.

Ford observed them all carefully as they entered. No hesitation or sign of even noticing it as they crossed over the barrier. So they definitely weren’t possessed now. He would have to keep a close eye on them while they stayed. He knew that Dipper trusted Wendy, and that was good enough for him, for now, but the others? Ford vaguely remembered Dan from when he’d been a young man, building this very cabin for him. He’d been friendly, loud, and boisterous. It appeared his sons were cut from the same cloth. But it was hard to say whether or not Bill could convince any of them to try and smash the rift.

“So Wendy, did you manage to get more unicorn hair?” Dipper asked as he helped her lay out a sleeping bag in the parlor.

“Oh yeah. I just snuck into that glade again with a pair of shears and a tranq dart. Works just as well as fairy dust.” She handed a grocery bag full of rainbow hair to Ford.

Ford made a mental note to add that tidbit to the Journal 1 entry on unicorns later. “I’ll get started on it first thing tomorrow.”

Mabel came downstairs to help just a minute later. After a lot of rearranging of campaign signs and novelty phones, everyone had a sleeping space set out. Dan took Stan’s recliner in the den, and his youngest son set out a sleeping bag at his feet. The oldest three children laid out their sleeping bags between the piles of junk in the parlor.

“Ohmigosh, Dipper, we should pull our mattresses down here and have a mega-sleepover!” Mabel gasped as she pushed the last of the campaign signs into a corner.

“What was the point of clearing out all this junk if we aren’t even gonna sleep in our own beds?” Dipper asked tiredly.

“Hmm, good point. Maybe Barry and Stuart can sleep in our beds, and we can sleep down here with Wendy!”

Dipper and Wendy’s middle brother both blushed beet red.

“Uh… I mean… I, uh, I don’t think Wendy would want to sleep with me--US! With us!” Dipper stammered.

“M-me? Sleep in a g-girl’s room? Like a room that a girl sleeps in?” The middle brother gulped.

“Yyyeah, I think we’re good where we are.” Wendy said cooly, trying to diffuse the awkward tension in the room.

“Aw man!” Mabel pouted, but she didn’t put up any other protest than that. Dipper suspected she was still pretty worn out from the rescue mission this morning.

Eventually, everyone got settled down and the children all fell asleep. The elder Pines twins moved back to the living room to check on Dan one more time.

"Hey, now that the kids are asleep, I've been meaning to ask you something." The lumberjack said in a low rumble that was probably his version of a whisper. "How long have there been two of you?"

"Hooboy…" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't want to retread this again.

"I'm Stanford. I'm the one you first met when you built this place for me. My brother Stanley has been living here under my name for the last 30 years." Ford summarized tiredly. Apparently he wasn't in the mood to make a big deal out of it right now either.

Stan could practically see the gears turning in Manly Dan's head. Eventually the grizzled lumberjack nodded. "Yeah, that adds up."

With that, he turned over and went to sleep. Stan was a little surprised that the guy accepted their explanation just like that. But then again, Dan had lived in Gravity Falls his whole life.

Ford grabbed a folding chair from the card table and carried it out into the giftshop.

"Are you seriously gonna stay up and keep watch over that snowglobe thing all night?" Stan asked incredulously.

"My usual sleeping place is already occupied, I may as well."

"Y’know, operating on so little sleep just makes you more likely to screw up.”

“Don’t worry. I’m well accustomed to it.”

“Not reassuring.” Stan said flatly, turning and climbing the stairs up to his room. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he probably wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight either. But at least he was going to try. Ford was going to run himself ragged if he kept up this pace.

- - -

Nights in prison were the worst part of the whole ordeal, in Gideon's opinion. At least during the day, he was able to sway the other inmates to do what he wanted. There was a sort of mob mentality that he could take control of. But at night, it was just Gideon and his cell-mate, and there was nothing the boy could do to stop the hulking man from taking his pillow and doing whatever he wanted with it.

Last week, the convicted felon had staged a wedding in their cell. He’d made a veil out of toilet paper and hummed “Here Comes the Bride” and everything. Tonight, he seemed to be discussing the possibility of children with his new “wife”.

“But Tessa, your mother and your aunt both died in childbirth! I’m just worried about you, honey!” He paused for whatever imagined reply the pillow gave. “Adoption, you say? I’ll admit, I had not considered it.”

Gideon groaned. He couldn’t even put a pillow over his ears to try and block out the nonsense! He’d tried to persuade the warden to let him switch cell mates so he could room with Ghost Eyes, but apparently they were “both instigators” and putting them both in the same cell would be “asking for a prison riot”.

The boy’s eyes flicked with annoyance to the cat poster still hiding his last attempt to summon Bill Cipher. The triangle had appeared and promised he was working on something, but so far Bill had failed to deliver.

“Stupid useless demon!” Gideon muttered under his breath. He rolled over, expecting another sleepless night.

Well, it did turn out to be sleepless, but not for the reason he’d anticipated.

It was a little past 10 PM when Gideon heard the familiar sound of an old van’s engine revving. He’d heard it many times on his father’s used car lot, but what on earth would one of those junkers be doing here?

That’s when he heard the unmistakable sound of a van crashing through a wall. Followed by the even more unmistakable sound of a machine gun.

“Heavens to Betsy, what was that!?” Gideon ran to his barred window just in time to see a pudgy man with a machine gun walk away from the wreckage of where a large van had burst through the prison wall. His maniacal laughter sounded familiar.

“Well whaddya know? Bill came through!” Gideon said in a hushed whisper.

He dove away from the window with a yelp a second later when the machine gun started firing in his direction. A few seconds later there was a much quieter bang as a tall ladder hit the wall just outside the window.

“HEY GIDEON, I HEARD YOU WERE GETTING TIRED OF YOUR PRISON AND WANT TO FIND SOMEPLACE NEW TO PARTY?”

“Bill!?”

“THE ONE AND ONLY!”

“Are you trying to kill me, you maniac!?”

“YEESH, YOU FLESH-SACKS ARE SO SENSITIVE! YOU’RE FINE. BESIDES, I NEEDED TO LOOSEN THESE BARS!” He ripped out the bars on the window with ease. They’d already been loosened by the machine gun fire. “YOU COMING OR NOT? I NEED YOUR HELP STAGING A LITTLE PRISON BREAK OF MY OWN.”

Gideon pouted and followed the demon down the ladder, grumbling the whole way.

“... You know what, Tessa? I don’t think I want kids after all.” Gideon’s cowering cell mate said after they left.

Bill kept the guards off them with plenty of machine gun fire, but he had little regard for who he was shooting at, guard or prisoner. He even narrowly missed Gideon on a few occasions.

“Oooh, I hope Killbone’s foot will be ok.” The boy hissed sympathetically as he saw one of his inmate friends go down.

“NAH, HE’S CRIPPLED FOR LIFE!”

They finally made it to the van, and Gideon climbed into the passenger-side door. Bill followed after him.

“A-aren’t you gonna drive?” The boy asked.

“TCH, FUNNY! I JUST RAMMED THIS THING THROUGH THREE WALLS OF CONCRETE; YOU THINK THE MEASLY COMBUSTION ENGINE STILL WORKS?” He flicked a lighter on and dropped it down between the driver’s seat and the steering wheel. Gideon could smell the gasoline. This thing was going to blow any second. He scampered over the benches and out the back door. Bill followed casually behind him.

“Then how are we supposed to get away!?” Gideon demanded as he sprinted to put distance between himself and the burning van.

“RELAX, SHORT-STACK, I’VE GOT A SECOND GET-AWAY CAR RIGHT HERE!” Bill pointed out a small black Audi parked behind a tall tree.

“Then why did you set the van on fire?” Gideon asked in confusion.

“BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT’D BE FUN.” Bill grinned as the van blew up behind them. Gideon screamed and ducked to avoid fiery flying debris. “AND I WAS RIGHT!”

Gideon got into Bill’s car. There was no child’s car seat. “You better drive careful.” He warned the demon.

“AHAHAHAHA, OH GIDEON, YOU’RE ALWAYS A RIOT!” Bill struggled to shift the car into drive, and Gideon had just enough time to realize with horror that the demon didn’t really know how to operate a human vehicle before it sped off through the trees.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Gideon Gleeful #Bill Cipher #My Writing

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