#outpost chatter

[outpost51]

Desperately need to overhaul blinding neon, I wanna get back into it. Anybody wanna be brainstorm buddies? hmu for my discord if you don’t have it tumblr dm is trash

[outpost51]

I’ve always seen it as supernatural dealing more with matters of the soul, the afterlife, etc that are beyond human understanding whereas paranormal is just that — adjacent to normal. This is oversimplified for brevity’s (and spoons) sake, but that’s it for me! The two tend to be used interchangeably though, and I prefer using “paranormal” for my romances despite incorporating elements of both.

What, in your opinion, is the difference between paranormal fiction and supernatural fiction and which genre do you prefer?

🔪🩸👻 🧛‍♀️👽

I've been looking for a good way to define the differences in the genres but I can't find a good example online, so I thought I'd ask my writeblr friends since y'all are into this stuff like I am! Please lemme know what you think makes these genres different and why you like a specific one, please! 😊❤️

[pearlcatcher-problems]

spire ᛜ false amphithere ᛜ beast wyrm ᛜ king of the roost

finally had the time to tackle this lad's reference; next up is a custom skin for him to match his headcanon! Lore rambles and general discussion of him / his spot in the lair beneath the cut to keep length down q wq

Spire is a false amphithere, technically a beast wyrm, that has settled and taken over one of the lair outposts. Most of his body is furred with thick boar bristle, but his chestplate is heavier armoured scale. Like most outpost heads, he bears the emblem of the joined clans on his wings and garb, although the over-ornamentation is mostly his magpie-like mate's preference.

The 'koi' on his wings is only ever visible under direct sunlight, where the fish-like scaling on his wings is most iridescent. Otherwise, it's just yet another glossy protective layer over his already armoured hide.

Beast wyrms are usually territorial and brutish, usually lone-wanderers due to conflict with others of their species. They rarely breed, which means their numbers are low, and quite a few of them will integrate themselves in mixed-species lairs that better suits the beast side of their bloodlines. Boars, bears, ox, and bison tend to be the most plentiful beast lines, with other species spotted scarcely. There's very little understanding on how they can continue their bloodlines or how new species are still popping up, and there are theories that they're instead created through corrupted interference. It very well could be both.

Spire's nature is a benefit to him where he is now, having quickly charmed most of the chattering amphitheres over within days of his first landing within their borders and ended up being the prize gem of their matriarch within a season. The amphitheres are chaotic and fickle creatures, and as such, they had strained relations with neighbouring clans until Spire was able to better translate between the groups. While the neighbouring dragon clans simply wanted access to the amphithere grounds for study and ( hopefully ) trade, the amphithere's distrusting nature made it near impossible to conduct anything of the sort safely. With the amphitheres now well-fed due to an influx of ley magics and their society a little more organised, they've been able to progress their roost to the point of joining a proper network. Most who venture into the roost know that they only have one chance, if they overstep they will be tossed either by an amphithere denizen, or Spire himself.

He's unable to fly for long distances, both due to his shorter wingspan compared to most flying-beasts, and the added weight of the boar bristling. He is able to glide, climb, crawl, and charge at quite a good speed though, which means most of his fighting is done on-ground after intentionally disabling his opponents' wings somehow or hindering their ability to fly at all. Like most dragon-folk, he has the ability to breathe 'fire' but it requires quite a lot of fuel to do so and is used sparingly. It takes his body at least twenty seconds to get a devastating flame charged and it's visibly obvious when he's preparing for it as the scaling on his chestplate will flare up, which means it's not something used without thought or desperation. He is powerful, but there are always limits and calls to that power. It's why he agreed to engage in the political alliances for the good of the roost, at least then if they do encounter a threat where he's limited in his abilities, the allied clans have promised to step in.

He has five functioning digits on his forelimbs, but they're limited in dexterity and mostly used as anchoring grapples or simple motion. Given the shape of his wings, it's difficult for him to turn his wrists without moving his entire wing, which means a lot of fine-tune work is often left to a different dragon. His hindlimbs only have two functioning digits, with a pair of curved claws and a pair of dewclaws for gripping behind them.

Although he can technically eat anything, his favourite foods are tubers and fresh melons, but he also enjoys just gnawing on bones. The amphitheres are unable to eat anything outside of raw ley energy and flesh, so any growing produce within their territory tends to be just for him, a few of the locals specifically hiding away small melon farms in corners of the cliffs away from where younglings may try to play with them.

Most of the allied clans call all citizens of the roost 'amphitheres,' which has lead to some confusion as not all dragons in the roost are technically amphitheres. Despite the differences in species though, socially and culturally, all species are amphitheres and equal as long as the same goals are kept. It's an odd place, but it somehow works.

l m a o none of this is organised but mmmm I just love this lad qwq

[partoffantasy]

When Words Hurt - Bodhi Durran

⸻ image credits to OC & scribe.jesinia⸻

summary: after a heated argument shatters their year-long relationship, Y/N isolates herself in guilt and confusion, while Bodhi struggles with the depth of the pain she caused.

pairing: bodhi durran x fem!reader warnings: angst word count: 5.8k

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

Bodhi and Y/N were the embodiment of what everyone around them dreamed of when it came to a perfect relationship. It wasn’t the whirlwind romance that came with grand gestures or dramatic moments. No, theirs was the quiet, steady kind of love that built itself on a foundation of small, everyday acts that spoke louder than anything else.

Their mornings began with the simple act of sharing breakfast together, the sounds of the bustling cafeteria fading as they found their own small corner, away from the chatter of other cadets. Y/N would pour herself a cup of steaming tea, settling down across from Bodhi, and they’d talk as if they were the only two people in the world. Bodhi would reach over, stealing a piece of toast from her plate, teasing her playfully for always getting more than she needed. Y/N would roll her eyes but smile nonetheless, always finding amusement in his actions.

“You know,” Bodhi would say between bites, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to starve me.” “Maybe you deserve it,” Y/N would tease back, nudging him with her foot under the table. “You’re always trying to steal my food.” And for a moment, everything was perfect. They’d laugh, carefree, without a care in the world. The moments they shared—small, quiet, and filled with affection—felt like the most natural thing. To those around them, it was obvious. They were in tune with each other, understanding each other’s rhythms, without needing to try.

When classes were over, when their responsibilities were done for the day, Bodhi and Y/N found themselves walking side by side across Basgiath’s grounds. The sun would be setting, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink, and they’d stroll along the pathways, hands brushing together before inevitably clasping. Bodhi was always the first to pull her close, wrapping his arm around her shoulders in a protective manner, while Y/N would rest her head against his shoulder, content.

“So,” Y/N would ask, breaking the comfortable silence. “What do you think you’ll do when we graduate?” Bodhi would pause for a moment, his thoughts drifting to the future. “I’ve got my plans,” he’d say, voice light, but there was something deeper there. “I’ll probably stick around here for a bit longer. Maybe take a leadership role if they’ll have me.” He’d glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “What about you?”

Y/N would smile, a hint of pride in her expression. “I’m thinking of leading some army in one of the outposts, maybe becoming an emissary. But that’s only if I’m not too busy with Caelan.” She’d nudge him with a playful grin. “You never know, next year I might be a wingleader myself.”

Bodhi would chuckle, the idea of Y/N being a wingleader somehow making her even more attractive in his eyes. He loved her strength, her independence. She wasn’t someone who would sit quietly in the background; she had dreams, ambitions that matched his own. And that was what made them work—together, they were unstoppable.

It wasn’t just the big conversations that made their bond unshakable; it was the small moments, the ones that no one saw but the two of them. At night, when they’d go back to their quarters after a long day, the world outside would fade away. Bodhi would close the door softly behind him, and before he could even settle, Y/N would be by his side, her arms reaching for him. Her presence was like a calm, steadying force, and he’d pull her close, kissing all her thoughts away. They didn’t need anything grand, no words, just the simple act of being there for one another.

There was something so real about their connection. The way Bodhi would tuck a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear as she focused on her notes, the way she would always leave a small note for him in his bag when he wasn’t looking, just a simple “thinking of you.” They were there for each other in every little way, both showing love in their own, quiet way. But like all relationships, there were moments of vulnerability, too. It wasn’t all smooth sailing. In the rare quiet moments, when Y/N would let her guard down, she would open up about her deepest fears.

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for all of this,” she admitted one night, voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes, I feel like I’m not living up to my potential. Like I’m just playing catch-up with everyone around me.” Bodhi didn’t hesitate. He didn’t need to. He knew exactly what to say. “You’re doing great. You’re stronger than you think. You’ve got a fire in you that no one else has. Don’t doubt yourself, Y/N. Not for a second.”

His words, his steady belief in her, were enough to ease her mind for the night. And in return, she would reassure him of his own worth, how much she admired his dedication and his ability to balance the weight of leadership with the care he showed for others. Together, they built each other up, piece by piece.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

But as the months went by, a subtle shift began to take place—a shift that neither of them could quite identify. What once felt effortless had begun to feel strained, their responsibilities—both academic and personal—pressing in on them. Bodhi had always been the steady one. He thrived in leadership roles, balancing the expectations of Xaden and the revolution with the loyalty he felt for his squadmates. He cared for Y/N with a devotion that was hard to match. He was protective in ways that went beyond simple affection—he truly cared for her well-being. He wanted to be the one who helped carry the weight of her burdens, who kept her grounded when everything else felt too overwhelming.

But lately, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was slipping away from him. It wasn’t something blatant, not at first. It was the small things. Her absences were becoming more frequent. Her distracted glances when he spoke to her, her lack of presence in their shared moments—it all felt like he was trying to hold onto something that was slowly evaporating.

One evening, as they sat together in their shared dorm room, the air between them felt thick, too thick for comfort. Y/N was sprawled on the bed, playing around with one of her knives, her brow furrowed in concentration. Bodhi sat on the chair across from her, watching her, feeling a strange mix of frustration and longing. They hadn’t had a moment to themselves in days. Between her workload and her own ambitions, it felt like she was always on the move, always focused on something else.

He tried to strike up a conversation, his voice soft, trying to break the silence that had grown around them. “So, what’s on your mind tonight?” Bodhi asked, leaning forward slightly. Y/N didn’t look up, her fingers still moving across the blade. “Just wondering about the alloy for the knives. We need to speak to Xaden about the next deliveries.” Bodhi tried to smile, though it felt strained. “I get that. You’ve been busy. But... don’t you think you’ve been working yourself too hard lately?”

Y/N’s eyes flickered to him for just a moment, but she quickly looked away, refocusing on the task at hand. “I’ve got a lot of things to juggle, Bodhi. You know how it is.” Bodhi nodded, but the words stung more than he let on. You know how it is. He had always been there for her, supportive in every way, but it felt as though she was pushing him aside, pulling away emotionally. And it wasn’t just this one moment. It was a pattern he had noticed over the past few weeks.

He let out a breath, leaning back in the chair. “I know,” he said quietly, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “But we haven’t really spent any time together lately. Not real time. Just... us.” Her eyes finally met his, but there was a coldness in them that he hadn’t seen before. “I’m just busy, Bodhi. I can’t help that. You’re not the only one with things to do. And besides, I am here with you now, am I not?"

He flinched at her tone. It wasn’t harsh, but there was an edge to it, an impatience that he wasn’t used to. Bodhi’s chest tightened, and he bit back the words he really wanted to say. He could feel the wall between them growing thicker. She was withdrawing, and it was driving him mad. Bodhi tried again, softer this time. “I’m not asking you to stop everything. I just... I miss you. We’ve barely talked in days.” Y/N’s gaze softened for a brief moment, but it didn’t last. She sighed and set the knife down, rubbing her forehead. “I know, okay? I know, but I can’t just ignore my responsibilities. There’s a lot at stake, and you don’t always understand that.”

Her words hit him like a cold slap. She wasn’t wrong. He didn’t understand the pressure she was under—he had his own burdens, but hers seemed to weigh on her in ways that he couldn’t relate to. But still, the words stung. Did she think he didn’t understand the sacrifices she made? Did she think he was just here for the easy moments?

“I’m not asking you to ignore your responsibilities,” Bodhi said, his voice thick with the emotion he was struggling to keep in check. “I’m just asking you to be present with me. You’re here, but you’re not really here, Y/N. It’s like you’re always somewhere else.” Y/N crossed her arms, a frown tugging at her lips. “You don’t get it, Bodhi. You’re not the only one trying to juggle everything. I don’t have the luxury of just... being present right now. I’m trying to build something for myself. To prove that I can handle it all.”

The air between them felt suffocating now. Bodhi’s chest tightened as he tried to process what she was saying. He did understand. He understood better than anyone, probably, what it was like to fight for your place in the world, to prove yourself worthy. But that wasn’t the issue here. The issue was that she was pushing him away, choosing her workload and her goals over their relationship.

“I’m not trying to hold you back,” Bodhi said, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m just trying to be a part of your life. You were making time for me, Y/N. We used to laugh, we used to talk, we used to do everything together. Now... it’s like you’re shutting me out.” Y/N’s face hardened, and she stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth in the small room. “Maybe I’m shutting you out because I’m tired, Bodhi! Tired of trying to balance it all. I’m not a damn machine. I can’t just drop everything for you whenever you want.”

Bodhi’s heart sank as the words hit him, and for a moment, he felt his stomach twist with the weight of her frustration. He never wanted to be a burden to her. But it felt like every effort he made to reach her was just falling short. “I’m not asking you to drop everything,” Bodhi said again, his voice softer now, quieter. “I’m just asking for a little bit of your time. A little bit of you. That’s all.” Y/N stopped pacing and turned to face him. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—frustration, maybe, or guilt—but it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. “I can’t do this, Bodhi. I can’t keep apologizing for being busy. I’m not the one who’s dropping the ball here.”

Bodhi’s eyes narrowed, his heart pounding. “I never said you were. But it sure feels like it.” They both fell silent. The tension between them is thicker than it had ever been. What had started as a small misunderstanding was starting to feel like something much bigger. Bodhi stood with his fists clenched, trying to keep his composure, but his frustration was boiling over. The words Y/N had said still echoed in his mind. 

His jaw tightened, and he forced himself to speak calmly, even though every fiber of his being wanted to shout. “You don’t get it, Y/N. I’m not asking you to drop everything. I’m asking you to show up. To be here when I need you. I’m not just your boyfriend, you know. I’m your partner. And I can’t keep doing this alone.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed, and the defensiveness that had been building all evening reached its peak. “I never asked you to do anything alone, Bodhi! I’m not the one who’s been disappearing!” Her voice shook, but it was laced with an anger that hadn’t been there before. “I’m doing my best! But it’s never enough for you, is it? You always want more. You always need more.”

Bodhi felt like a slap had landed across his cheek. He shook his head, refusing to back down. “You think I want more? I don’t want more, Y/N. I just want you to care. I want you to see me. You’ve been so wrapped up in your own world that it’s like I don’t even matter anymore.”

Her breath hitched, and her hands balled into fists at her sides. She was shaking now, both from the hurt and the anger. “What is that supposed to mean, Bodhi? Of course you matter! I never said you didn’t!” Her voice cracked slightly as she took a step closer to him, the distance between them narrowing but the emotional gap only widening. “But you don’t understand, okay? I have things to do. I’m trying to be someone.”

Bodhi’s heart ached at her words, and for a brief moment, it felt like his chest might cave in. He wanted to reach out to her, to pull her close and make everything better, but every time he tried, she seemed to pull further away. “You think I don’t understand? I’m the one who’s been trying to support you through all this, Y/N. I’ve been right here, waiting for you to open up, waiting for you to let me in. But you won’t! You won’t let me in.”

Y/N flinched at the raw emotion in his voice, but the anger in her rose again. She was feeling overwhelmed by her own insecurities and frustrations. “I can’t just let you in all the time, Bodhi! I’m not some fragile thing that needs fixing!” Her words were harsh now, her temper flaring. “You always act like you need to protect me, like I’m some damsel in distress! But I’m not! I’m not weak, and I don’t need you to always be there to pick up the pieces!”

Bodhi recoiled as though he’d been struck. The air between them felt like it was charged with a thousand volts, and every word that left their mouths only made the storm between them grow more intense. “So what do you want from me, Y/N?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Do you want me to just stand by and watch you burn out? Watch you push me away because you’re too proud to admit you need help?”

Y/N’s eyes flashed with pain, and she took a step back, her face hardening as she crossed her arms tightly across her chest. “Maybe I don’t need help, Bodhi! Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t get it! Maybe you’re just making it all about you when it’s never been about you!”

The words cut deep, deeper than anything she had said before. Bodhi felt his heart drop into his stomach. He hadn’t meant to make it about himself. He had only wanted to be there for her. He had always wanted to be the one who supported her, who could stand by her side when things got hard. But now, it felt like she was pushing him away with every word.

He was struggling to keep his voice steady, but it was slipping. “I never said it was only about me. But damn it, Y/N, I’m trying so hard! I’m trying to be the one who makes it easier for you, but you’re shutting me out. I don’t know what to do anymore.” He swallowed thickly, his chest tight, the words clawing their way out of his throat. “I’m not asking for everything, I’m asking for something. For you to want this too. For us to make this work.”

Y/N’s face flushed with frustration, the hurt on her face now replaced by something darker. “Maybe I can’t make it work right now, Bodhi!” Her voice was trembling now, but there was a finality in it. “Maybe I can’t balance you and everything else. Maybe it would be better if we never got together.”

The words hit Bodhi like a physical blow. He froze, staring at her as though he couldn’t comprehend what she had just said. His heart seemed to stop in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. He couldn’t breathe. His mind raced to catch up with the statement. It felt like the ground had slipped out from under him, leaving him with nothing but empty space.

Y/N’s eyes widened the moment the words left her mouth. She didn’t mean them—not like that, at least. But the damage had already been done. She couldn’t take them back. Bodhi’s face fell, his expression crumpling as the pain from her words hit him. “What?” His voice was barely above a whisper, cracking from the hurt he couldn’t hide. “You really think that? You think it would be better if we never got together?”

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach, her own emotions overwhelming her. “I—Bodhi, I didn’t mean... I didn’t mean it like that... I just...” But the words were trapped in her throat, tangled with the emotions she couldn’t untangle. She wanted to explain, to make him understand, but she felt too lost inside herself to find the right words.

“I don’t know what to do with this anymore,” Bodhi muttered, his voice strained. He backed away from her slowly, like he couldn’t bear to be close, but he didn’t know how to leave either. The space between them was too vast, too raw, and every second that passed only made the distance grow wider. He rubbed his hands over his face in frustration, trying to push the tears that threatened to rise.

Y/N stood there, her own heart breaking as she realized what she had said. She hadn’t wanted to destroy them, but everything felt so impossible. She couldn’t fix it. She couldn’t fix herself. And that is what she has been feeling lately—broken. And she thought she could fix herself without also breaking Bodhi. "Please go," she heard him mutter, his back to her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she felt her heart break into pieces. She walked away before she lost herself in front of him.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

Days passed in a haze for Y/N. Each morning she awoke with a heavy heart, as though her own guilt and sadness had settled deep into her bones. She moved through the motions of daily life, but everything felt muted, distant. Her once-vibrant energy had drained, leaving behind a hollow version of herself. She would sit in class, staring at the words on the pages, but none of it registered. Her mind was elsewhere, spinning in a cycle of regret, confusion, and the overwhelming feeling that something precious had been irreparably broken.

The worst part was that she couldn’t even pinpoint exactly when things had started to fall apart. One moment, everything had felt perfect. Bodhi had been her rock, the one person who had made everything feel right. And now, after their fight, it was as if the ground beneath her had cracked open, swallowing everything she had once known to be true.

It wasn’t just Bodhi. It was herself. She didn’t recognize the person staring back at her in the mirror. Gone was the happy, confident Y/N who would laugh and joke with Violet and Rhi, who would plan their future together with hopeful optimism. Now, she was someone completely different—someone unsure, hollowed out by grief she hadn’t even allowed herself to mourn yet.

At first, she tried to keep up appearances. She showed up to class, walked through the halls of Basgiath with her head down, avoided eye contact with everyone. She still managed to smile when she crossed paths with people, but it was always strained, a thin mask that hid the wreckage beneath. Her usual bright spark had dimmed, her eyes clouded with unshed tears.

Bodhi was always on her mind, but every time she thought of him, a deep pit formed in her stomach. She couldn’t bear the thought of facing him, not after the words she had said. She didn’t mean them. She never meant them. But they had come out in a moment of anger and frustration, and now they hung over her like a cloud she couldn’t shake.

Her attempts to fix things had failed before they even started. She’d sit in her room late at night, fingers hovering over the paper in front of her, ready to write something to Bodhi. But every time she tried, the words felt like poison on her tongue. What could she say? How could she apologize for everything she had done wrong? It all felt too much, and so she simply dropped the quill, burying her face in her hands and crying alone in the darkness.

Violet noticed the change in Y/N almost immediately. Her best friend looked withdrawn, exhausted, and endlessly distant. Violet’s heart ached for her, but she didn’t know how to help. She tried. She really did. At first, she gave Y/N space, assuming that maybe the fight with Bodhi had simply rattled her, and that some time apart would help ease the tension. But as the days passed, Y/N only seemed to retreat further into herself, like a tortoise pulling its head into its shell to protect itself from the world. Violet’s gentle attempts to check in—whether through a nudge in the hallway or a quiet question during meals—were always met with short, unconvincing answers.

“Hey, are you alright?” Violet would ask softly, her voice full of concern as they sat in the cafeteria. “I’m fine,” Y/N would respond, her words hollow. But Violet wasn’t stupid. She could see it in the way Y/N’s shoulders hunched, the way her eyes never fully met anyone’s gaze, how she seemed almost disconnected from the world around her. The energy that once made Y/N the heart of their group was gone, replaced by emptiness.

But Violet didn’t know how to break through the wall Y/N had built around herself. Her friend wasn’t angry with her—Y/N never had been—but there was something about the way she withdrew that felt like a rejection, like a door being slammed in her face. And it hurt, even though Violet knew it wasn’t personal. She just wanted to help, to bring Y/N back, but each time she tried, she was met with resistance.

For Y/N, it was like being trapped in her own head, unable to escape the constant loop of grief and guilt that kept her awake at night. She didn’t know how to fix what had been broken. She didn’t know how to apologize for the things she’d said, the hurt she had caused, or the mess she had created. But more than anything, she didn’t know how to stop feeling like the person she loved the most had slipped through her fingers.

Every time she thought of Bodhi, the pain twisted in her chest, deeper than anything she had felt before. The memory of the words she had thrown at him—the ones she didn’t mean, but couldn’t take back—haunted her. She didn’t want to end things. She couldn’t stand the idea of losing him. But every time she thought of reaching out, her own internal walls pushed her back. How could she face him after everything? How could she face herself?

She was slowly unraveling, piece by piece, and all she wanted was for everything to go back to how it had been before. But deep down, she feared it was already too late.

Y/N had spent days between self-imposed isolation. Every time she tried to work up the courage to talk to Bodhi, she found herself retreating further into herself, scared of what would happen if she faced him. But the guilt, the shame—it became too much to bear. The longer she waited, the heavier it felt, and the more her emotions threatened to consume her. She could no longer pretend she wasn’t devastated by the rift she had created.

It was late afternoon when she finally decided to face him. The decision came after a long, restless day where she had hardly spoken to anyone. Violet had tried to talk to her, but Y/N had shut her out, unable to let anyone in. She knew she had to do something—anything—to begin to fix the mess she had made. Bodhi deserved an apology. More than that, he deserved answers.

With shaky hands, Y/N left her room. Her heart was racing in her chest, and her breath came in short, shallow bursts. The hallways of Basgiath felt like a labyrinth, every step heavier than the last. She didn’t know where to find him, but it was only a matter of time before she came across him. She had to talk to him. She couldn’t keep avoiding it.

She wandered aimlessly, her thoughts drowning out everything else. The distant sounds of cadets laughing, training, and talking barely registered as she moved, her mind focused solely on the weight of what was coming. She didn’t know what she would say, only that she needed to see him. It was the first time in days she felt some semblance of determination rising within her.

And then, just as she was about to turn a corner, she saw him. Bodhi. He was standing near a window at the far end of the hallway, looking out at the distant mountains with a contemplative expression, his posture rigid. She froze for a moment, unsure if she should approach him or turn and run. Her body tensed with anxiety, but something deep inside her knew this was it—this was her chance to make it right.

Taking a breath, she gathered her courage and walked toward him, each step feeling like it took forever. When she reached him, she hesitated for a moment, unsure how to start. The silence between them stretched painfully. His back was to her, but Y/N could see his jaw tighten, as though he knew she was there, knew what was coming.

“Bodhi,” she said softly, the sound of his name breaking the quiet like a fragile glass. He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of guarded pain and something else—something unreadable. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it again, not knowing where to begin. She had rehearsed this conversation in her head a hundred times, but now that it was happening, the words felt so inadequate.

“I… I didn’t know if I should come,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I didn’t know if I should just leave things be, but… I can’t. I can’t just pretend like nothing happened.” Bodhi’s expression softened slightly, but he still didn’t say anything. It was as though he was waiting for her, giving her space to speak without pushing her. Taking a deep breath, Y/N finally forced the words out. “I’m sorry, Bodhi. I never meant for it to go this far, never meant for the things I said to hurt you. I—I was lost, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I was so caught up in my own confusion that I hurt you. And for that, I am so sorry.”

Her voice faltered as the weight of her own words hit her. The apology wasn’t smooth, but it was the most honest thing she could say. She had no idea how he would react, no idea if this would be enough to bridge the chasm she had created. But she had to try. For both of them.

Let's talk in my room," he sighed and started walking towards the dormitories. Y/N followed him, feeling so small but also hopeful for the first time since their fight.

Bodhi was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at her, his expression unreadable. The distance between them felt huge, even though they were only a few feet apart. Y/N shifted uncomfortably, nervously fidgeting with her hands. She had never felt more lost in her life, more unsure of everything she thought she had known. This wasn’t who she was—this wasn’t the confident, composed woman who had once walked alongside him, sharing laughter and love. No, this was someone broken, someone desperate for redemption.

“I… I don’t even know where to start,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The words felt heavy, like they had to push through a wall before they could leave her mouth. Bodhi didn’t respond immediately. He just watched her, his gaze intense but distant at the same time. It made Y/N feel small, insignificant, as though everything that had happened had erased her worth in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, swallowing hard. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I never should have—” “Stop,” Bodhi interrupted, his voice hoarse. “You don’t need to apologize for that, Y/N.” But Y/N shook her head, a tear escaping before she could hold it back. “I do,” she said, her voice shaking. “I do need to apologize. You… you don’t deserve the things I said. It wasn’t about you. It was never about you. I was just—lost. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for making you feel like you weren’t enough.”

Bodhi flinched at her words, and Y/N immediately regretted them. Her heart cracked as she watched him process her apology. She could see the hurt in his eyes, and it was a mirror to the agony she felt inside. Her own pain had caused this—this chasm between them. This hurt that she couldn’t undo, no matter how many times she said the words.

“I’ve never felt more lost in my life,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “I don’t even know how we got here… how everything just—” She choked on the words, unable to finish the thought. “I’ve been so confused, and I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted it to end like this.” Bodhi didn’t say anything right away. He looked down, his jaw clenched tightly as he took in her words. Y/N could feel the silence between them, heavy and suffocating, and it made her want to disappear.

“I never wanted it to come to this,” she said, voice trembling. “I never wanted to be this version of myself, the one who can’t fix what’s broken. I just… I don’t know how to fix it.” Bodhi let out a long breath, his hands gripping the edge of the bed as though he needed something to hold onto. He looked up at Y/N then, his eyes filled with raw vulnerability—something she hadn’t seen from him in a long time.

“You hurt me, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His words were soft but heavy, filled with pain. “When you said that… it felt like you were telling me that everything we had wasn’t enough. That I wasn’t enough. And it… it crushed me.” Y/N’s heart plummeted into her stomach. She could feel the weight of his words, like a physical blow. Bodhi, always the strong one, the rock that she could lean on, was broken. And it was her fault.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” she said, her voice hoarse with guilt. “I didn’t mean it, Bodhi. I just—everything felt like it was slipping away, and I didn’t know how to fix it, so I said the worst thing I could think of. And now… now I don’t know how to fix this.” Bodhi swallowed hard, his gaze softening ever so slightly. “I don’t know if I can forgive you,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I can forget what you said.”

The words hit her like a wave, pulling her under. She wanted to say something to make it better, to promise him that she would do whatever it took to fix the damage she had caused, but her throat felt tight, her words stuck. What could she say? What could she do? The weight of everything between them was too much to handle, and she didn’t know if she was worthy of fixing it.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right away,” she said quietly. “I just… I need you to know how sorry I am. I never wanted to hurt you like that. I love you. I really do. So, so much Bodhi.”

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The silence that followed was thick, but there was something softer in it now. Something that felt like a small crack in the wall they had built between each other. They found a quiet space in the corner of the courtyard, the soft glow of the late afternoon sun casting a warm, golden light over everything. Bodhi and Y/N sat across from each other, the tension still there, but now there was something different in the air. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t guilt—it was a fragile hope. They both knew that their relationship had been shaken to its core, but they were willing to work through it. Together.

“I don’t know how we got here,” Y/N said quietly, breaking the silence. “I don’t know how we went from being so close to…” She trailed off, the words too painful to finish. Bodhi sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Neither do I. But we’re here now. And we can’t change what happened. All we can do is… try to figure out what comes next.”

Y/N nodded, tears welling up again. “I never wanted to hurt you, Bodhi. I’m so sorry. I feel like I’m drowning in what I’ve done, in how I’ve broken this. And I don’t know how to make it right.” Bodhi’s expression softened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N saw the familiar spark of the man she loved. “We’re not broken,” he said gently. “We’re hurt. But we can heal, together.”

They sat there for a long time, in silence, just letting the moment settle between them. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t easy. But it was real. It was a step toward something new—a new beginning, perhaps. And maybe that was all they needed for now. They weren’t fixed. But they were trying. And sometimes, that was enough.

[callmegaith]

Updated my G-man according to feedback

Drew Otis for a request too c:

And made my own Resistance oc

You can call him Pete. He's stationed in an outpost that Gordon never passed, in fact all he knows about Gordon is from over the radio and Resistance members chatter. He has a Walkman that is his most prized possession and keeps him sane in these hard times. Not sure what I Wanna do with him yet I just really wanted to draw some Resistance members lol.

[outpost51]

I would like to do a shout out to @outpost51 for insanely good writing, and being such a supportive and engaging contributor to the writeblr community (and writers in general actually)

[nahoney22]

Hello there!

Congratulations on 4,500 followers!

May I request a NSFW prompt 30: come closer and keep me warm or something like with F! Reader x Mayday, please?

He needs more love!

Warmth in the Night*** 🌊

🫧 pairings: Commander Mayday X Female!Reader

word count: 1.9k

prompts:

• “Come here and keep me warm.”

plot: Trapped with nothing but a lousy flickering fusion lantern to keep you both warm, yourself and Mayday decide to take advantage of this time alone.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Established relationship, cuddling (amongst other things) for warmth, kissing, consensual sex, p in v sex, cock warming, dirty talk, explicit sexual content language, praising, fingering, trapped in a snow storm.

authors note: im so sorry for the wait @ladypunz and I apologise it’s short! But you’re right, he does deserve some love!

“Do you think it’ll hold?” you ask, your voice trembling as much from the cold as the worry gnawing at you. Together, yourself and Mayday had managed to barricade the rickety door of the abandoned shack you’d stumbled upon, but the raging blizzard outside wasn’t letting up.

Mayday steps back, eyeing the door with his hands on his hips. “Should do,” he says, his tone calm but a little cautious. “And if not… well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

You try to laugh, but the bitter cold seeps into every part of you, stealing the sound before it can form. Stars, the bitter breeze stabs at your skin like little needles.

Pushing aside your discomfort, you move to help him gather whatever scraps of blankets and fabric you can find and then drape them around a fusion lantern. It was the only thing providing little warm but its light flickers weakly, threatening to go out at any moment. The thought of it completely shutting down makes you nervous which doesn’t go unnoticed by Mayday.

Setting his helmet on a cracked, uneven table, he steps closer, his gloved hand brushing against your frosty cheek. His touch was warm despite the frigid air.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his voice steady and reassuring. “We’ll get through this. We’ll rest tonight, and by morning, the storm will have passed. Then we’ll make our way to the rendezvous point.”

You lean into his touch, seeking out the comfort it offers, and before you know it, your arms are around his waist, clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you knitted to warmth and safety. “At least I’m with you,” you say softly.

His lips curve into a fond smile as he wraps his arms around you, his hands rubbing gently up and down your back in an effort to warm you. “Likewise.”

You were both meant to be delivering supplies to an outpost but were caught off guard by the sudden storm and luckily, you and Mayday had been together for a while now. He liked to tease that you fell for him first, and while that wasn’t entirely untrue, it didn’t mean he didn’t fall harder. He was everything you wanted in a relationship and you were glad he was so calm in a rather precarious situation.

“How are we on rations?” you ask after a moment, sitting down on the pile of tattered blankets whilst he pushes a broken table against the door just for a little extra reinforcement.

He grabs his pack, rummages around, and pulls out two ration bars, offering a wry smile as he hands you one. “At least it’s the flavor you like.”

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a half-smile, taking the bar and nibbling on it. If you were going to be stuck here, you wanted it to last.

Once the makeshift barricades are as secure as they’ll get, Mayday settles in beside you, the two of you huddling under the pile of blankets. The only light comes from the pathetic sputtering lantern, and the majority of warmth from each other. Despite your best efforts, your teeth chatter relentlessly.

Mayday drapes an arm over you, pulling you closer until your back is tucked against his chest. “Come here,” he says, his voice low and soft. “Keep me warm.”

You don’t hesitate, nestling into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His warmth envelops you, a small reprieve from the biting cold.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to the back of your head.

“A little bit,” you admit, your breath shaky, though you can’t deny how much this was helping.

Night falls swiftly, the wind still screaming against your shelter. “I hope this storm ends soon,” you whisper, your voice barely audible above the howl of the wind.

“Me too,” Mayday replies, his arms tightening around you. “But at least the company’s good, right?”

You smile despite everything, catching the teasing lilt in his voice. “It’s perfect,”

“You know,” Mayday murmurs, his voice low and teasing as his fingers trace gentle patterns across your stomach, “it’s been a while since we’ve had some time alone.”

Your eyes, which had been closed in contentment, flutter open. A playful smirk spreads across your lips as you tilt your head just enough to meet his gaze. “You’re right,” you say softly, your voice holding a hint of mischief. “It has been a while.”

Mayday’s answering smirk is wicked, a flicker of heat sparking in his inviting eyes. He leans down, capturing your lips with his, the kiss starting soft but quickly deepening into something more needy.

A gasp escapes you as his hand tangles in your hair, pulling you closer. You turn fully to face him, your fingers threading through the textured strands of his long hair, tugging gently. The sensation draws a low groan from his throat, his lips parting against yours as your tongue slips into his mouth.

The kiss turns hungrier, more demanding, as his hands begin to wander. One gloved hand peels away, and when his now-bare palm glides over your skin, the chill of his touch makes you gasp again.

His lips curve into a smirk against yours, and his free hand slips lower, exploring with deliberate slowness until it finds the waistband of your pants. He pauses for just a moment, enough to let anticipation coil tightly in your chest, before sliding his hand inside.

You tremble under his touch, his fingers brushing against your folds. The coldness of his skin sends shivers across your body, but it only heightens the heat rapidly building between you.

“Already wet for me?” he murmurs darkly, his lips brushing against yours. His thumb circles your clit with an intense and measured pace, and he bites down lightly on your lower lip. “You needy girl.”

A whimper escapes you, your body arching into his hand as waves of pleasure roll through you. “C-can’t help it,” you stammer, your voice breathless. “You’ve been neglecting me.”

A low groan rumbles deep in his chest, his mouth moving to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His breath is warm against you, a stark contrast to the icy air around you.

“Let me fix that.”

His fingers move with purpose now, sliding against you with expert precision. Every flick of his thumb, every stroke of his hand, draws soft gasps and moans from your lips. The storm outside is forgotten, the cold replaced by the searing heat of his touch.

“Mayday, shit… don’t stop,” you plead, your voice trembling as you clutch his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his under-armor.

He grins, a low, knowing chuckle rumbling in his chest as he tugs your pants down just enough to give his hand the space it needs. His fingers slide against you, then press inside, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. The sound makes his grin widen. “You feel so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice rough and reverent. “So perfect.”

Your hips buck instinctively against his hand, desperate for more. A string of curses falls from your lips as he adds another finger, spreading you open with a skilled, deliberate rhythm. His lips find your neck again, trailing hot, searing kisses along your skin that make you shudder beneath him.

“Stars, I’m g-gonna—” you stammer, the words caught in your throat as the pressure inside you builds to a dizzying peak after a measly few minutes.

“Yes, you are,” he growls, his voice laced with hungry satisfaction. His lips leave your neck, his gaze locking onto yours as he watches you unravel. Your eyes roll back, your body arching as pleasure crashes over you in an uncontrollable wave.

You come undone, trembling and gasping his name like a prayer. “Yes, you fucking are,” he says, his voice thick with pride, his fingers slowing but never stopping, coaxing every last ounce of bliss from you.

Stars blurred your vision, your body trembling as waves of you come down from your high. You felt drunk on his touch, the aftershocks of your climax leaving you breathless and spent. Sweat glistened on your brow, your legs shaking as you tried to steady yourself.

“That’s it,” Mayday murmured in your ear, his voice low and soothing. He withdrew his fingers carefully, his touch lingering for just a moment before he lifted his hand into the faint glow of the lantern. Slick with your arousal, his fingers shimmered in the dim light.

You closed your eyes briefly, letting the moment sink in, before looking up at him with a lazy, somewhat goofy smile. “I think it’s only fair if I return the favour.”

His lips form into a smirk, and without hesitation, he leaned down to kiss you, his mouth claiming yours with renewed desperation. As his tongue brushed against yours, your hands found their way to the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the latch. Mayday chuckled against your lips, helping you shove them down before kicking them off entirely.

Your breath hitched as his cock sprang free, thick and swollen with need. He gripped it lightly, stroking himself with deliberate slowness.

A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight, and an idea formed in your mind. You slipped your pants completely off and shifted closer, your hand wrapping around his length. He gasped at the initial contact, your touch cold against his heated skin, but the sound quickly melted into a groan as you aligned him with your entrance.

With a gentle roll of your hips, you guided him inside, both of you sighing as he stretched you open and settled deep within. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and he let out a sinful groan, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he buried his face in your chest.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he rasped needily, “You feel amazing.”

You bit your lip, your walls fluttering around him, clinging to every inch of him as he throbbed inside you. A teasing smile played on your lips as you whispered, “You like this, Commander? You like being in my pussy?”

“I love it,” he groaned, his voice muffled against your skin and knowing full well that you calling him Commander gets him all hot and bothered. One of your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close as you shifted your hips experimentally.

But before you could start moving in earnest, his grip on you tightened. “Stop. Stop,” he panted, his tone commanding yet soft.

You froze, concern flickering in your eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice ragged. Pulling back slightly, he cupped your face with both hands, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re keeping my cock so nice and warm.”

It took a moment for his words to register, but then a playful smile tugged at your lips. “Using me as a cockwarmer, are you?”

“Yes, baby,” he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “You’re so damn warm, and it feels so good. Just… let me stay like this for a while.”

Your smile softened, and you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his once more. “Anything you want.”

Settling against his chest, you let your body relax, your arms wrapping around him as his cock remained snugly sheathed inside you. He pulled the covers over the two of you, cocooning you both in warmth.

The storm outside howled, but for the first time in hours, you felt nothing but comfort. You didn’t know how long this moment would last, but for now, you hoped the storm wouldn’t let up anytime soon…

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[gardenladysworld]

Starbound hearts

Status: I'm working on it

Pairings: Neteyam x human!f!reader

Aged up characters!

Genre/Warnings: fluff, slow burn, oblivious characters, light angst, hurt/comfort, pining

Summary: In the breathtaking, untamed beauty of Pandora, two souls from different worlds find themselves drawn together against all odds. Neteyam, the dutiful future olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya clan, is bound by the expectations of his people and the traditions of his ancestors. She, a human scientist with a love for Pandora’s wonders, sees herself as an outsider, unworthy of the connection she craves.

Tags: @nerdylawyerbanditprofessor-blog, @ratchetprime211, @poppyseed1031, @redflashoftheleaf

Part 9: To see

Part 10: To touch

The outpost was quiet, the hum of its systems a familiar background noise as you sat on your bed, staring at the data pad in your hands. The words on the screen blurred as your mind wandered, far from the plant samples and bioluminescent analyses you’d been reviewing. A sigh escaped you, and you set the pad down, leaning back against the wall just to massage your tired eyes.

A soft knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts. One of the younger scientists, Brian, stood there, a boyish grin on his face and a bottle tucked under his arm.

“Hey,” he said, his voice light and cheerful. “We’re having a little... gathering in the lounge. You should come.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe. “A gathering?”

“Yeah,” he said, stepping closer. “Just the xenobotany team. Some drinks, some laughs. Maybe a game of truth or dare. You know, good, old-fashioned bonding. Kate said you’d be too boring to come, so... prove her wrong?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes at the mention of Kate’s teasing. “I don’t know, Brian. I’ve got—”

“Come on,” he interrupted, flashing a pleading look. “We’ve been stuck on this rock for years. You deserve a little fun. Just an hour, I promise. And if it’s lame, you can leave. Please?” he looked at you, clasping his hands together in mock begging. “We need you to balance out the chaos. You’re the only one who can keep Kate from going rogue.”

A small laugh escaped you despite yourself, and you shook your head. “Fine. But only because I love you guys,” you said, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

Brian pumped a fist in victory. “Yes! You won’t regret it. Promise.”

You doubted that, but you followed him to the common area.

The rec room was buzzing with laughter and chatter when you arrived. The team had rearranged the furniture to form a loose circle, and a makeshift table in the center held a few half-empty bottle of some kind of cheap Earth alcohol. Kate was perched on the edge of the couch, mid-story, her hands gesturing animatedly as the others listened, their faces alight with amusement.

“And then,” Kate was saying, barely able to contain her laughter, “the harness snaps, and poor Tim is dangling upside down, yelling, ‘This isn’t in the manual!’”

The room erupted into laughter, and even you couldn’t help but chuckle as you slipped into an open seat. Kate waved you over, patting the seat beside her. “There’s my favorite hermit. I was starting to think you’d forgotten how to socialize.”

You rolled your eyes, settling into the chair. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Norm passed you a cup, his smile warm. “Glad you could make it. It’s been a while since we’ve all just... hung out.”

Max, sitting across from you, raised his own cup in agreement. “Cheers to that.”

You smiled, taking an empty seat beside her as Norm handed you a cup. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing yet,” Norm said, leaning back with a smirk. “Just the usual chaos. Kate was just regaling us with her latest embarrassing memory.”

“Not embarrassing,” Kate corrected, pointing at him. “Hilarious. There’s a difference.”

Kate leaned in, smirking. “You know, back when Brian tried to impress a Na’vi by speaking their language and accidentally proposed marriage instead.”

Brian groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I knew that story would come up.”

The room erupted into laughter, and even you couldn’t help but join in. The alcohol was cheap and burned going down, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. You let yourself relax as the conversation flowed, each story more ridiculous than the last.

You found a seat on one of the armchairs, sipping your drink as the conversation flowed around you. Kate was in rare form, regaling everyone with stories from her trainee days. One particularly ridiculous tale involved her accidentally gluing herself to a desk during a safety demonstration, and the room erupted in laughter as she acted out the scene.

The mood was light, the banter easy, and for the first time in days, you felt a little of the tension in your chest ease. You let yourself laugh, even chiming in with a few quips as the stories grew wilder. The alcohol loosened tongues and lightened moods, and before long, someone suggested playing truth or dare.

As the laughter died down, Brian leaned forward with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Okay, okay,” he said. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

Kate groaned. “Brian, you live for this, don’t you?”

“You know it,” he replied. “Come on, who’s first?”

The game started innocently enough, with silly dares and harmless truths. Tyler dared Norm to eat an entire spoonful of powdered coffee, which resulted in a coughing fit that left everyone in stitches. Max was asked to confess the worst grade he’d ever gotten during his training, and he sheepishly admitted to failing a chemistry quiz because he’d confused sulfur and silicon.

The game picked up quickly, the cheap alcohol loosening everyone’s inhibitions and making even the most reserved members of the team lean into the fun. Brian, one of the younger members of the xenobotany team, was practically bouncing in his seat, grinning mischievously as he leaned forward.

“Alright, let’s start this properly,” Brian declared, scanning the room. His gaze landed on Kate first. “Kate! Truth or dare?”

Kate rolled her eyes but smirked. “Truth. Let’s ease into this disaster, shall we?”

Brian grinned. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever said to a superior?”

Kate didn’t even hesitate. “Oh, easy. I once called the lead botanist ‘Plant Daddy’ by accident. To his face.”

The room burst into laughter, Max nearly choking on his drink. “Please tell me he responded to that,” he managed between gasps.

“Oh, he did,” Kate replied, her voice dry. “He said, ‘I prefer Dr. Grant.’ I think I wanted to crawl under the nearest microscope and die.”

As the laughter died down, Kate rubbed her hands together and turned to Norm. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Norm raised an eyebrow, taking a long sip of his drink before replying. “Dare.”

Kate’s grin widened. “Alright, I dare you to chug this entire cup without making a face.”

Norm glanced down at his half-filled cup of the questionable alcohol, then shrugged. “Please. I’ve survived worse.”

The group cheered him on as Norm tipped the cup back and drained it in one go. He managed to keep a straight face for about two seconds before his entire body shuddered, and he sputtered, coughing as the burn hit him.

“Oh, god,” he choked out, his face scrunching up as everyone roared with laughter. “What is this? Paint thinner?”

“Close enough,” Brian said, grinning triumphantly. “But hey, you tried.”

“Alright, Brian,” Norm said once the chaos subsided, pointing a finger at him. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Brian said confidently, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

Norm tilted his head thoughtfully. “If you could switch jobs with anyone here, who would it be and why?”

Brian grinned. “Obviously Max. Then I could slack off and call it ‘management.’”

Max held a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me! My job is integral to this team.”

“Integral to keeping your chair warm,” Kate quipped, and the room dissolved into laughter again as Max threw up his hands.

“Okay, your turn,” Max said, leaning forward with a grin turning toward you.

“Truth”

„What’s the cringiest thing you’ve ever done at the Omaticaya village?”

Everyone turned to look at you expectantly, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “My Na’vi talking skills aren’t enough cringe for you?” you tried to deflect.

“Nope,” Kate said, grinning wickedly. “Spill.”

You sighed, setting your cup down. “Fine. It was maybe... my fifth visit? I was trying to joke around with Lo’ak. So I... uh... I threatened to touch him all over his body with my creepy tiny human hands.”

The room erupted into laughter, Max nearly spilling his drink as he doubled over. “You didn’t!” Kate gasped, clutching her stomach.

„Oh, I did!”

“Lo’ak must have been mortified,” Norm said, grinning.

“He was!” you said, laughing along with them. “He jumped back like I’d just threatened to poison him.”

As the laughter died down, you felt a warmth settle in your chest. For a moment, the weight of everything—the pressure, the uncertainty—felt lighter. Here, surrounded by friends and laughter, you let yourself forget the complications of your heart and simply enjoy the moment.

*Flashback – 3 years ago*

The soft hum of the transport reverberated through your feet as you stepped off with Norm and Max. You adjusted your exo-mask out of habit, even though the fit was perfectly snug, the air filters working as seamlessly as ever. Pandora's lush, living expanse stretched before you, the vibrant greens and soft bioluminescent glows making your heart swell with awe—as they always did. No matter how many times you visited the Omaticaya village, the sight of it never failed to take your breath away.

You spotted Kiri and Lo’ak bounding toward you, their movements fluid and full of energy. Their excitement was contagious, and you smiled widely as they greeted you with playful enthusiasm. Kiri reached you first, grabbing your hand and tugging you forward as if you might bolt. Lo’ak, always the charmer, grinned his signature mischievous smile and gave a mock bow.

“Back to grace us with your presence, huh?” he teased.

“Of course,” you replied, smiling. “Who else would put up with you?”

Their laughter was warm, and you found yourself relaxing despite the faint nervousness that always accompanied these visits. You tried not to think about the towering figure lingering near the entrance of the Sully family kelku. You knew he was watching—he always was. Neteyam had a way of observing from a distance that set your pulse racing for reasons you refused to examine too closely.

As you approached, your eyes flicked toward him briefly, catching the faint light in his golden gaze. He stood tall and composed, his arms crossed over his chest, every inch the stoic warrior. Something about his presence was magnetic, grounding even, and yet it left you feeling like your balance might slip if you got too close. You quickly shifted your focus back to Kiri, letting her lead you inside the family’s home.

The interior was warm and inviting, the bioluminescent patterns on the walls casting soft light across the space. You marveled at the woven tapestries and carefully crafted furnishings, each piece an extension of the forest itself. The air was filled with the subtle scent of wood and earth, calming and alive.

“These are beautiful,” you said, your fingers brushing over a hanging tapestry. The texture was rough but intricate, the patterns telling stories you could only begin to understand. “Did you make these, Kiri?”

Kiri’s face lit up with pride. “Some of them. Others are my mother’s. She’s incredible at weaving.”

“She is,” you said, your admiration genuine. “I could never do something this delicate.”

“Maybe I can teach you,” Kiri offered with a grin. “But you’d need to come here more often.”

Before you could respond, Lo’ak piped up, throwing an arm around Kiri’s shoulder. “She should. She’s already half-Na’vi, the way she’s always hanging around.”

Your cheeks warmed at his comment, but you laughed it off. “If that’s your way of inviting me, I’ll take it.”

Lo’ak smirked. “Anytime.”

Still, you couldn’t ignore the way Neteyam’s gaze lingered. You felt the weight of it even as he stayed silent near the wall, his posture relaxed but his presence undeniable. He always seemed to watch from the sidelines, and you often wondered what he thought. Did he see you as an interloper, an outsider trying too hard to fit into a world that wasn’t yours? Or did he feel the same pull that you did—the unspoken connection that hummed between you whenever he was near?

“Neteyam,” Kiri’s teasing voice cut through the quiet. “Are you just going to stand there like a statue?”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping as his golden eyes flicked toward you before quickly darting away. His ears twitched slightly, betraying his discomfort, and he straightened, clearing his throat.

“I am just... observing,” he said, his voice measured and steady.

Lo’ak grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. “Yeah, big bro. Observing her, more like.”

Your face flushed, but you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “Oh, come on, Neteyam,” you said, gesturing to him. “Sit with us. You’re making me nervous, standing there like that.”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing your words. Then, slowly, he joined the circle, his movements deliberate. He sat a few feet away, keeping a respectful distance, but even from there, his presence felt all-encompassing. You tried not to let it affect you, focusing instead on Kiri and Lo’ak’s playful banter.

Your curiosity got the better of you as you turned to Kiri, her dark braids swaying as she laughed. “Can I touch your hair?” you asked tentatively. “It’s so intricate.”

“Of course,” Kiri replied, leaning forward. Her braids shimmered faintly in the soft light as you reached out, your fingers brushing over them with care. The texture was unlike anything you’d felt before—firm yet soft, a perfect harmony of the natural and the crafted.

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, genuinely in awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Maybe you’ll have braids one day,” Kiri teased. “Then you can really fit in.”

Your laugh was light, but the idea lingered in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Neteyam as you spoke, wondering if he thought the same. Was he as curious about you as you were about him?

Kiri beamed, clearly delighted by your interest. “You humans have strange hair too,” she teased, her smile wide. “So light and... fluffy.”

You laughed at that, the sound soft and genuine. “I guess we do. It’s not nearly as beautiful as yours, though.”

Lo’ak snorted from where he was sprawled out nearby. “Kiri’s just showing off because her braids are better than mine.”

“Because I take care of them,” Kiri shot back, sticking her tongue out at him.

Their banter made you laugh again, the warm, musical sound filling the space. Being with them always felt so natural, so easy. You hadn’t expected to feel this level of comfort here, surrounded by a culture and people so different from your own. But with Kiri and Lo’ak, it was like you belonged, even if only for a little while.

Your curiosity was insatiable as you reached out to trace one of the dark blue stripes running along Kiri’s arm. The texture of her skin was fascinating—smooth yet firm, so different from your own. “Your stripes are so unique,” you murmured, your voice filled with wonder. “Do they mean anything?”

Kiri glanced at the lines on her arm, a thoughtful smile playing on her lips. “Not really,” she said. “They’re just... us. Like fingerprints for humans, I guess.”

“That’s incredible,” you said softly, marveling at the intricate patterns that adorned her body. Each stripe seemed perfectly placed, as though painted by an artist’s hand. You couldn’t help but feel a deep admiration for the natural beauty of the Na’vi, a beauty that seemed to harmonize so effortlessly with the world around them.

Your gaze lingered on Kiri’s arm for a moment before curiosity tugged at you again. You turned slightly, your eyes falling on Neteyam. He was sitting quietly, his posture relaxed but his presence commanding. There was something about him that always made your heart flutter, a quiet intensity that drew you in no matter how hard you tried to resist.

You knelt in front of Neteyam, your heart racing as your hand hovered just inches from his arm. The stripes on his skin were mesmerizing, curving and twisting in intricate patterns that seemed to pulse with life. They weren’t just beautiful—they were a testament to the connection he had to this place, to Eywa, to the world you were still learning to understand.

You hesitated, your fingers twitching slightly. “Neteyam,” you said softly, your voice quieter than you intended. “May I...?”

He blinked, his golden eyes meeting yours, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. For a moment, you thought he might say no, but then he nodded, his expression calm though you could see the faintest flicker of something behind his eyes—curiosity, maybe, or something deeper.

Gently, you reached out, your fingertips brushing against his forearm. His skin was warm, the texture smooth yet firm, and you marveled at the way the stripes curved along the muscles of his arm. You let your fingers trace one of the lines, following it with careful precision, afraid to press too hard, as though he might pull away.

“Yours are different,” you murmured, your eyes flicking up to meet his for a brief moment before returning to his arm. “The way they curve here... it’s beautiful.”

You saw his ears twitch in response, a small movement that he probably thought went unnoticed. It didn’t. The little gestures, the way his tail swayed or his ears shifted, were all things you’d come to recognize. They spoke volumes, more than words ever could.

Your curiosity got the better of you, and your gaze shifted to his hand. “Your hands,” you said, leaning closer so you could see more closely. You reached out without thinking, gently taking his hand in yours. His hand dwarfed yours entirely, the sheer size of it fascinating. “You have four fingers,” you said, your tone soft with wonder. “Not five like Kiri and Lo’ak.”

“It’s... normal for most Na’vi,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. It was almost hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure why you found it so interesting.

You turned his hand slightly, your fingers brushing over the rough calluses on his palm. “They’re amazing,” you said softly, tracing one of the lines that ran along the base of his fingers. “So strong.”

He didn’t pull away, but his tail flicked behind him, and you noticed the way his shoulders seemed to tense ever so slightly. You felt a twinge of guilt, wondering if you were being too forward, but his lack of protest gave you the courage to continue.

“Does it feel different?” you asked, tilting your head as you compared his four fingers to your five. “Having four instead of five?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he replied, and you couldn’t help but notice how quiet his voice was. “I’ve never had five.”

You laughed softly, the sound breaking the quiet tension between you. “Fair enough,” you said, glancing up at him. His golden eyes were focused on you, watching your every move with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

Holding up your hand, you placed it against his, palm to palm. The difference in size was stark, his hand engulfing yours entirely. “It’s so big,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I knew it would be, but... wow.”

The moment hung in the air, your fingers lightly resting against his. You could feel his warmth, the steady strength of his hand beneath yours. Your gaze flicked up to his face, catching the faint color blooming on his cheeks, the way his ears twitched and his tail swayed more erratically.

“Look at him!” Lo’ak’s voice shattered the quiet moment, and you turned to see him grinning, pointing at Neteyam. “His tail’s going wild! Big bro’s flustered because of her tiny alien hands!”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and before you could think, you turned to Lo’ak, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Oh, so you want my tiny alien hands crawling up your body?” you teased, wiggling your fingers at him like claws.

Lo’ak’s grin vanished, his eyes widening in mock horror as he stumbled back. “No, no! Keep those creepy little hands away from me!”

Kiri burst into laughter, doubling over as she clutched her stomach. Even Neteyam, who had been so still and composed moments ago, let out a deep, rich laugh that sent warmth flooding through your chest. It was a sound you hadn’t heard often, and it made your heart ache in the best way.

You turned back to Neteyam, catching the way his laughter softened into a smile as he looked at you. His golden eyes sparkled in the dim light, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The teasing, the laughter, the noise—it all fell into the background. All that mattered was the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world.

Your own smile softened, and you felt a quiet joy settle in your chest. Neteyam had always been steady, composed, a figure of strength and responsibility. But here, in this moment, he was just... him. And it felt like a gift, one you hadn’t expected but cherished all the same.

You didn’t know what Eywa intended or where this path would lead, but as you watched him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, this was where you were meant to be.

Part 11: To ask

[lady-phasma]

To Serve

Feyd Rautha x Fremen!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, rough foreplay, biting, no penetration, masochism, strange power dynamics, completely ridiculous premise that Feyd would even notice a Fremen servant, I don’t know - it’s fanfiction so let’s suspend disbelief together

Summary: You are a Fremen working in the Arrakeen palace after House Harkonnen has retaken Arrakis, watching and studying the Planetary Governor. 2k words (no beta because I was in a hurry to get this out of my head)

You were actually grateful to be allowed to continue to serve in the Arrakeen palace. When House Atreides had been slaughtered, so had most of the servants. The Harkonnen kept some of the Fremen to do menial labor. You spent your days much as you had when Duke Leto and his family resided here. You cleaned floors, helped in the kitchens from time to time, and occasionally cleaned the personal chambers of the Planetary Governor.

As the Harkonnens struggled to retaliate against the guerrilla Fremen and Muad’Dib you kept your head down, listening, never drawing attention to yourself. You had received instructions from your home sietch to observe and not act. However, you had promised yourself you would take advantage of the right opportunity.

Weeks passed with the na-Baron at the helm of the sadistic assaults on sietchs and Fremen outposts. Your anger grew, but so did your caution. At night you lay awake replaying the routines of the Harkonnen, as well as his peculiar desires. You only saw these from a distance but you listened to chatter among the palace staff, appalled at times, curious at others.

You were assigned to replace the person who regularly cleaned the na-Baron’s chambers, perhaps for an extended time. You were only allowed in when the room was empty. The Harpies spent much of their day in repose, eating, sleeping, always waiting on Feyd Rautha. There were occasions when he demanded their company elsewhere and you were then permitted entrance. The only task that was particularly unpleasant and unusual compared to the rest of the palace was cleaning their “nest.” The pile of pillows and fabric were never filthy but often stained and you did not envy the poor souls who had to launder them.

At least twice in the first week, the na-Baron himself had been leaving the room as you were lead down the hall by a guard. You had not seen him up close before, not this close. His pale skin looked as cold as the palace walls, but his eyes were bright and constantly assessing everything and everyone around him. He looked at you the first time you passed, deemed you unimportant, and looked away. The second time you crossed paths he didn’t look at you at all.

You had no plan, you were no assassin. You simply wanted to hurt him. Nothing you could do would stop the war or persuade the Harkonnens to call a truce. You weren’t ignorant. You just wanted him to feel some of what you felt. If he could feel similar emotions. You weren’t sure about that, but every living creature could feel pain.

You were always on guard in the palace unless you were in your bed. When you performed your duties you heard every footstep, every door opening or closing within your vicinity. These footsteps were so quiet that you hadn’t known anyone had walked in until you heard him speak. Your mouth went dry and your mind raced.

“Out,” Feyd commanded. You looked over your shoulder at him, turned, bowed your head slightly, then an impulse came over you.

“Lord na-Baron,” you spoke evenly, but quietly. “I was waiting for you. I was instructed to tend to you personally.”

He looked perplexed but still annoyed. He appraised you, looking into your blue eyes as you raised your head. He let out a derisive snort of laughter.

“What use could I have for a Fremen?”

“Well,” you swallowed, feigning embarrassment. “I was told, my Lord, you had certain appetites and I was required to be at your service. That you were…” You flashed your blue eyes at him. “Curious.”

Feyd licked his lips. You had no idea from his expression if he believed your lie. The way he raked his gaze over you, from head to foot, implied that it didn’t matter.

“Curious,” he mused, almost to himself. “Quite.”

You tried not to flinch as he stepped closer. You faced him, appearing less nervous than you actually were. He was a man rumored to have many odd desires from what you had learned. Perhaps your impulse was correct, perhaps he had never had a Fremen before. Hopefully you had used that to your advantage and not to his.

When he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand you nearly pulled away. His hand was surprisingly warm and the touch seemed deceptively gentle. You stared brazenly into his eyes, trying to decide your next move. You decided to try something you thought few people ever dared.

You grabbed Feyd’s wrist and held it away from your face. The look of surprise and dismay that appeared on his face was incredibly satisfying. You let yourself smile just a little at this, then quickly set your mouth into an impassive line as you let go of his wrist. You thought he brought his hand back to slap you but he merely dropped it to his side. His brows were furrowed and he looked as confused as he was impressed.

Feyd stepped forward so quickly that you could barely see him do it. His hand grasped your neck and held you still as he drew his face close to yours. He looked down at you, contemplating, eyes darting back and forth between yours. He leaned in as if to kiss you.

“Do you think I can’t break you?” He hissed. You narrowed your eyes, not hiding your defiance.

“I think you will want to try,” you whispered. “I think you will fail.” His hand loosened for an instant and you used his moment of shock to force your mouth on his. It was a rough crashing together of mouths but Feyd did not falter or pull back. He met your mouth, your ferocity, with his own. His hand was no longer on your neck but gripping your shoulder. You pushed your hands againsthis chest but found that, instead of pushing him away, you gripped the fabric of his shirt in your fists. A flickering heat pulsed in your belly and your chest was tight. This was not in your plans.

He pulled his head back and grinned. His black teeth were fearsome this close. Yet they didn’t frighten you exactly. You reached up and held his chin as you kissed him again, licking his teeth, finding his tongue. You wanted to hurt him but something had begun to mingle with that feeling, a different kind of want. He growled into your mouth and grabbed your hair at the back of your head. You let your hand fall from his face as he pulled your head back. He licked your throat, your jaw, scraping his teeth against your skin as he went.

In a nearly painful movement, Feyd turned you both to move toward the bed. What had begun as an impulse was now becoming a reality. You warred with yourself as he walked you backward, releasing your hair and sucking hungrily at your lips. You needed to make a decision and quickly. You slid your hands to the back of his head and caught his bottom lip in your teeth. If you were going to do this it would be on your terms. You didn’t bite him hard enough to draw blood. It was hard enough to make him push you against the bed. When you let him go he was grinning.

“If all Fremen are like this, I have missed many opportunities,” he sneered. The instinct to slap him was overridden by the feeling of his erection pressing into your lower belly. You slowly moved one hand from his neck, down his torso, and stroked him through the fabric of his pants. His sneer faded as his eyes almost closed.

Feyd didn’t push you onto the bed as you thought he might, but guided you by the shoulders and slid his thigh between your legs in one graceful movement. He raked his hands under your shirt and jerked it off you. He licked your stomach, your ribs, and as he moved upward he tried to pin your hands above your head. Before he could, you leveraged your position under him, you were no match for his strength, and used his imblanace to roll him onto his back. You threw one leg across him and straddled him.

There was a horribly wonderful glint in his eyes as he grinned up at you. His breathing was shallow and quick. You glanced at his chest rising and falling. You slid your hands under his shirt, his abdomen firm under your fingers. You shifted your hips against his. He must have felt the same ache you did because he groaned. You leaned forward to pull Feyd’s shirt over his head and heat radiated from your core. Even your own breathing had become shallow.

As you looked at him, laying beneath you, there was something magnificent about him. Yes, he was horrid, still your enemy, but he was beautiful in a way which was unlike anything on your desert planet. You leaned forward and placed your mouth on his chest, listening to his response. You felt his hands move to your thighs. You slid your hands up his bare shoulders and you bit his chest, hard.

Feyd’s hips jerked up into yours. His fingers dug into your thighs through your pants and he growled. You expected him to push you off, command you to stop but he didn’t. You moaned against him as his hips ground into yours. When you let go and sat up you saw his eyes were closed. His face looked almost peaceful. Even so, you had gotten a peculiar satisfaction out of that. You had wanted to hurt him but this… this was very unusual for you. Not only did he seem to enjoy it but you did as well.

He opened his eyes slightly and stared at you. You stroked his stomach. You glanced down at the red bite mark on his chest and you actually smiled. When you looked back at him he lifted his hips gently and you shuddered. You curled your fingers against his flesh, fingernails scratching him. His cock was hard against your core, through both of your pants. You shifted your weight forward slightly, a small rocking motion, and his eyes closed. His fingers still clung to your thighs.

You slowly leaned forward and lowered your mouth to his. You licked his lips, his chin, down his jaw and neck. You made your way to his chest and teased him with your teeth. His hips had begun a steady rhythm under you. As you bit down this time you didn’t hold back. You thought of the wrongs done to your planet, his cock against you, his malice, and his sculpted muscles. All of the images swirled together as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the sensation of him rocking beneath you.

You increased the pressure of your bite slightly and his hands flew to your ass, pulling you against him to get you as close as possible. He rutted and groaned. You released your bite and you felt the pleasure of it wrack his body. He tensed, cursed, and arched his back against you. His cum soaked his pants, then yours. You ground against him as he came down from his high. The overstimulation caused a nearly pained look to cross his face. He opened his eyes and scowled.

Your core throbbed and ached. You wanted a release but were satisfied with what you had been able to do to him. A smug grin grew on your lips. You had gotten far more than you had planned.

Without warning, taking advantage of the moment in which you had let down your guard, Feyd lifted you off him. Within a second he was on top of you, knee back between your thighs. Only this time you couldn’t help rubbing against him, desperate.

“Let’s see if I can’t break you after all,” Feyd growled as he pinned your hands above your head.

[toska-writes]

Clone commandos request if possible. 😁 Could you do delta squad. where on a mission they get captured along with the Padawan, and get protective when they try to separate them or interrogate them.

So i thought about writing a fic based on todays bad batch episode (but I need to get some of the requests done- if you wanna request some Wolffe *wink wink* that’s ok)

“Got your back”

Summary: a mission goes south with the delta squad but they have your back

Paring: The delta Squad/ republic commandos x padawan!reader (PLATONIC OFC)

Warning: slight mentions of injury and imprisonment nothing too bad… the most scary- not proofread

Word count: 1688

Notes: Delta Squad fics are not my “most popular” but ones I always do so much for and I don’t know why

Also I swear to god someone asked to join the Taglist but I can’t remember nor find it so let me know!

"Can you focus for one second Scorch? EVER?" Fixed screamed through the comms, you could see his tense movements from a mile away as the squad ducked once again behind a wall.

Boss could only nod this head, he quickly spun around from where you, Sev and him were hiding to shoot an incoming droid.

"Sorry Scorch I can't defend you this time it's not looking good." You spoke between gasp of your own breath, the adrenaline from the long hours fighting wearing on you and the whole group.

Sev leaned heavily on Fixer from where you could see him, though Scorch as of now was doing a good job covering them.

"Boss," You yelled over the hiss of a smoke bomb going off- the contents of which were going in your eyes and making you cough. "I'm all out of ideas here."

The comando spared you a glance for a second, you feared what his face would have looked like if his helmet was discarded.

Boss looked down at the padawan for a moment. A thin cut ran along their cheek way too close to their eye for Boss’s comfort. He watched their head whip around looking through the fog desperately before a huge bang went off.

After a moment of slight ringing Boss felt the bump of another person against his side. The padawan looked around frantically for the force of the bomb before looking up to the comando.

In a more solemn voice they asked. “Boss what are we gonna do?”

Boss thought about their options then. Backed into the corner of what should have been an abandoned outpost, on of their men injured and the rest ready to collapse from exhaustion. He as a leader thought he was better than this but Boss felt as if he walked his squad right into this trap.

“The missions easy enough for us.” Boss had said only hours before. A knot sat in his stomach but the team needed an easy mission, a break from their last fiasco with the bugs.

He’s never been more wrong in his life.

While he was lost in thought, Boss nearly missed Scorch sliding up next to their leader, his panicked voice tried to fill Boss’s ears.

For a moment the other comando didn’t realize the trooper in yellow was talking until Scorch made a shhh gesture with his hand.

That’s when you noticed it too, the complete lack of noise. No more clanker chatter or blaster bullets from each side. Just the low hiss of the fog that didn’t seem to die down.

You opened your mouth to say something before the unmistakable scraping of metals filled your ears.

“Rollies! get down!” Scorch shouted pulling you and Boss to the floor with him. About 5 Droidekas emerged from the smoke…. Lucky you guys.

“Scorch handle them.” Boss yelled using his hands to signal something at Fixer and Sev at the speed of light. His gruff tone scratched your ears but you all seemed pretty fed up at the situation.

Blaster bullets were blocked by your lightsaber left and right until the next words made your heart drop all together. “Out of hand grenades sir.” Scorch ripped his blaster out now but the shields were too strong on the droids.

“Down the hall!” Fixer yelled as both He and Sev passed the 3 of you, a way out hopefully planned.

You felt them before you saw them, you tried skidding to a stop before turning into the next hall as a hand shot out to grab Boss.

“Shit.” Was the only thing you could say, before they could question what you meant a group of comando droids emerged with guns drawn.

“You’ve got to be joking me.” Sev rasped out, his arm shook while he tried to lift his blaster up and fire. The tiredness leaked off of him though you were sure it did for everyone.

A ring of blue light hit the wall behind you. It didn’t make sense though, comando droids weren’t the type to show mercy.

Your lightsaber flashed along the darkened walls trying to keep the nimble droids away, why couldn’t the separatists just send the normal clankers.

Once again the hall was engulfed in a think smoke. You heard more blasters going off but you feared you were getting more and more disoriented. After a moment you heard a sickening thunk next to you and you assumed the worst.

In the blink of an eye you felt the blast hit its mark and half your body go limp. Unlike the bulking clones you were with it only took about 2 hits before you were out.

•✩•

Boss was the first one to awaken. His head bobbed around and his eyes fluttered open. Boss reached his hand up only to finally realize that his armor was gone.

He laid there for a moment, confusion laced his face. What had happened to him? To them….

In a split second Boss shot up to a sitting position , which his head greatly protested, and looked for the rest of his squad.

Relief was one of the best things in the galaxy in this moment. In the dim light of the ray shield keeping them in Boss could count the 3 other comandos and the form of their padawan knocked out next to Scorch.

Sev still looked bad as now Boss could get the full view of his gash along his side- the blacks on all of the men seemed to be tattered.

Boss observed their surroundings for a moment before giving a light tap to Fixer on the foot. When that didn’t work the first time a much hard kick was implemented.

Fixer gasped awake along with Scorch after a “friendly” tap from the clone comando.

I didn’t take Scorch long before he leaned back against the wall and groaned, clearly he knew the situation at hand.

Boss could only stare for another second at Sev, guilt rummaged through his insides as he helped his injured brother up ultimately waking him as well. This was his fault and Boss couldn’t shake that.

“Fixer start working on those bindings.” Boss ordered unable to keep his gaze on the unconscious padawan. Clearly to the eyes of their captors the Jedi was the bigger threat.

Sev hissed for a moment now finding a new brother to lean on.

You came to with the feeling of someone’s exposed hands brushing against your arms. The pounding in your head was present but the blanket of confusion was much scarier.

“Thanks for joinin’ us.” The unmistakable voice of scorch chimed in. Your eyes strained against the darkness but you could tell what the problem was.

The cool metal hurt your wrists as Fixer fiddled with them muttering a small apology every once in a while.

Boss’ low voice filled the cell, plans of just how they would get out to fight another day. Your eyes scanned the worrisome group.

Scorch sat fidgeting with his hands trying desperately to listen but you could see the worry in his eyes as clear as day.

Fixer sat in front of you cursing and apologizing but he just couldn’t seem to do anything useful without his tools and data pad.

Sev’s eyes closed everyone once in a while and you could see the fight to remain in the moment, though his scowl never seemed to be wiped off.

And finally Boss. His voice was level and low just like the countless other times you heard him give directions, however this time was different. He knew this wasn’t in their favor and he was worried beyond belief.

Someone had to stay strong for them all.

Your heartbeat beat out of your chest, a dull throb started in your temples the feeling seemed vaguely familiar.

“I think someone’s coming.” For the first time you were unsure in the force. Fixer faltered for a moment before meeting your eyes. “It’s probably these. Messing with you.” He shook the bindings.

Though to your surprise, and relief in a way, someone did make their way down the hall. Boss spoke out quickly as you averted your gaze, sweat started to form on your brow.

“We need a medic.” It was hard to call it pleading despite where Boss said it from his position on the floor, but it was definitely more of a demand.

2 masked figures approached though they seemed to ignore Boss all together.

“We need the Jedi.” The cool voice stated only once.

Everyone seemed to freeze for a moment unsure about which group would make the first move.

“Get up.” Was demanded at you and you glanced around meeting Boss’ eyes for only a moment before you gripped onto the sleeve of Fixer.

The ray shield was down now and the larger figure stepped in. “I’m not asking again”

“Like kriff they’re going with you.” Scorch stood in front of you now. His full height filled up their line of sight.

“Move clone.” For a second Scorch was pushed back that was until Boss stood as well and shoved their captor away from his brother.

Before the other could react with their blaster Scorch was all over them. Fixer taking the hint that their time was now scrambled to get their other brother still on the floor.

Your eyes were blown wide with the loud alarm that was set off. You felt someone grab your arm as you were still in a little daze.

“I hope you didn’t think we were really gonna let them take ya.” Scorch said as the group rushed down the halls.

You thought about that for a moment, had there truly been something to worry about while you were surrounded but the Delta Squad, your brothers?

A smile broke out of your face and Scorch seemed to get your reply.

“I hope you know.” Scorch called over his shoulder. “You’re never picking the missions by yourself again Boss.”

An angry yell was heard from somewhere behind you replacing the fear in your body with a laugh. “You were the one to pick the bug mission Scorch!”

______________________________

Taglist:

@arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @gregorsmissingarmor

[mya-valentine]

Do you think you could write a piece of Traveler!Reader travels around with Kaeya and brother-in-law Diluc? I think it could be a fun dynamic. Please and thank you!

A Traveler’s Love: Adventures with Kaeya and Diluc

The sun was just rising over Mondstadt when your day began. As a traveler, your days were often filled with new sights, thrilling encounters, and the occasional monster skirmish. But today was special—it marked the second anniversary of your marriage to Kaeya Alberich, the Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius.

Traveling with Kaeya was always an adventure in itself. His charisma and penchant for mischief turned even the simplest journey into a lively tale. To add to the excitement, your brother-in-law, Diluc Ragnvindr, often joined these expeditions. While his involvement was primarily to ensure your safety (he’d never say it outright, but you knew he cared), the dynamic between the two brothers was... eventful.

"Darling, are you ready?" Kaeya’s smooth voice called from the kitchen, where he was preparing breakfast.

You smiled as you adjusted your satchel. "Just about! Are you sure you packed everything?"

Kaeya stepped into view, his signature smirk firmly in place. He held up a bottle of his favorite wine. "Do you even have to ask? Priorities, my love."

Before you could respond, Diluc walked in, already dressed in his usual dark attire, his claymore strapped to his back. "Kaeya, this isn’t a vacation. It’s a supply run for Dawn Winery."

Kaeya raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yes, because there’s nothing more thrilling than carrying barrels of wine across Teyvat."

You stifled a laugh as Diluc shot his brother a glare.

The journey began on horseback, with Kaeya riding beside you and Diluc leading the way. The path was peaceful at first, with the sun warming the countryside and the breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers.

Kaeya, of course, took this opportunity to swoon over you. "Isn’t the sunlight just perfect on their face today, Diluc? Truly, I’ve married the most radiant star in all of Mondstadt."

Diluc grumbled under his breath but kept his focus ahead. "We’re wasting daylight."

You chuckled. "Thank you, Kaeya, but maybe save the flattery for later? I’d like to get to Springvale before nightfall."

"Anything for you, my dear." Kaeya winked, but you noticed his smirk widen as he glanced at Diluc, clearly enjoying the irritation he was causing.

Springvale was bustling with activity, and you stopped for supplies while Diluc arranged for the wine barrels to be delivered to the nearby outpost. Kaeya took the opportunity to charm the locals, his smooth words leaving the merchants and townsfolk either blushing or laughing.

"Kaeya," you called, holding up a map. "Do you think we should take the southern route back? It looks like it might be faster."

He sidled up to you, leaning close to look over your shoulder. "Hmm, you’re right. And it would give us more time alone before my dear brother catches up."

"Kaeya," you said, nudging him playfully, "behave."

From a distance, Diluc’s voice cut through the chatter. "If you’re done flirting, we need to move."

Kaeya turned to you with mock seriousness. "He’s such a spoilsport, isn’t he?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "He’s efficient. Let’s go before he leaves us behind."

As you traveled through the southern woods, Kaeya couldn’t resist teasing Diluc.

"Brother," Kaeya began, his tone overly casual, "don’t you think it’s impressive how well my spouse handles traveling? A perfect match for someone as worldly as myself."

Diluc didn’t even glance back. "I think it’s impressive they tolerate you."

You burst out laughing, nearly doubling over in your saddle. Kaeya gasped in mock offense. "Darling! Are you siding with him?"

"Only because he’s not entirely wrong," you teased.

Kaeya clutched his chest dramatically. "Betrayed by my own beloved! Truly, I am heartbroken."

Diluc sighed. "Can we focus on the road? We’re not far from the Hilichurl camp."

Kaeya leaned closer to you, his voice low. "He’s just upset because he knows I’m right."

"Kaeya," you whispered back, trying not to laugh, "don’t push him too far."

"But it’s so fun," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Sure enough, a Hilichurl ambush awaited just ahead. The three of you leapt into action, Kaeya’s cryo abilities freezing enemies in place while you and Diluc handled the rest.

"Careful, darling!" Kaeya called as he dispatched a Mitachurl, glancing your way.

"I’m fine," you assured him, dodging an attack with ease.

Diluc’s fiery strikes lit up the battlefield, his movements precise and efficient. "Kaeya, less talking, more fighting."

"Ah, but where’s the drama in that?" Kaeya replied, effortlessly freezing another group of enemies.

When the battle ended, you wiped sweat from your brow and looked at the two brothers. "Nice work, both of you."

Kaeya grinned, tossing an arm around your shoulders. "See, even my beloved thinks I’m impressive."

Diluc rolled his eyes. "Let’s keep moving."

As night fell, you set up camp near a river. Diluc tended to the fire while Kaeya uncorked his precious bottle of wine.

"To a successful journey," Kaeya said, handing you a glass before raising his own.

"To not losing my sanity," Diluc muttered, sipping tea instead.

You smiled, feeling warmth from the fire and the company. "To family," you said, raising your glass.

Kaeya leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "The best toast of all."

Diluc pretended not to notice, focusing on the flames, but you caught the faintest hint of a smile.

You leaned against Kaeya, his arm around you as he regaled you with tales of Mondstadt’s history. Despite the teasing, the chaos, and the occasional battle, you wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

As the stars appeared overhead, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for these moments. Traveling with Kaeya was never dull, and even with Diluc’s gruff demeanor, the dynamic between the three of you made every journey unforgettable.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[outpost51]

I do my own trick or treat thing for Halloween proper but I’m so down for extended festivities!!

🎃 Trick or Treat 🎃

The Event

Let’s celebrate Halloween together with a fun game! During this event, we’ll knock on people’s ask boxes and send them a simple question: Trick or Treat? 🦇

The recipient decides if it’s to be a trick, or a treat, as the owner of the house.

🍬 Treat — If the recipient choses treat, they share something with us as a treat. This could be a snippet, a line, OC trivia, or what have you!

👻 Trick — Turning the question around, the asker now has to share something of their own! But, seeing as it’s a trick, they may leave something under a read more, or link to something, that may catch you off guard… 😱

The event is held* through 27th-29th of October.

(Examples of) What you can share:

A snippet

A scene

OC trivia

Worldbuilding fact

A song, or even a playlist

A moodboard

Poetry

Anything you think is a treat you want to share!

If you get “Trick 👻”, pulling a trick is up to you.

❗ Tricksters ❗ Keep to etiquette. A rick roll is fun, a spooky gif, a picrew of your character dressed up for Halloween, and other fun tricks are what I hope to see, should someone chose to pull a trick.

Yes, you read that right! "Trick or Treat" is making a comeback this year 🍬🗡️ Spread this post to get the word out. I'll send an ask to everyone who reblogs this! 🎃

*I will be sending asks during these dates but you are welcome to start this event any time you like and tweak it how you want. Remember Writeblr etiquette and send an ask back to the one who sent one to you! (Excluding me 👻)

🧡 Enjoy 🧡

[0kurakura0]

Case Files Pt. 3

Simon Riley "Ghost" x UN lawyer Reader

TF 141 receives a visit from a UN prosecutor working at the ICC. This overworked prosecutor is trying to build a case against war criminals and must team up with them to catch these criminals. Along the way, they may even catch feelings for a brooding soldier. slow-burn, M/F, cursing

>> Pt.1 >> Pt.2

The steady hum of the plane engines filled the cabin as Task Force 141 and their new reluctant companion settled into their seats. Ghost was seated near the back, arms crossed and gaze fixed straight ahead, his mask revealing nothing of his thoughts. Soap and Gaz sat side by side a few rows ahead, already engrossed in a spirited debate over whether the in-flight rations counted as edible.

Price, ever the professional, was at the front of the cabin, reviewing the mission details on his tablet. ___, sat slightly apart from the group, her normal suit attire traded for a more practical outfit consisting of cargo pants, boots, and a plain black jacket. Despite the attire, she still looked out of place amongst the others. 

The tension from the earlier briefing hadn’t dissipated. Ghost’s warning lingered in her mind, and she’d caught Soap throwing her a few sideways glances since they boarded. She adjusted her seatbelt, shifting uncomfortably as the turbulence made the plane shudder.

“Relax,” Gaz said from across the aisle, offering a small smile. “We’ve been through worse flights.”

“Great,” she muttered, gripping the armrest tighter. “Good to know my first field mission might involve falling out of the sky.”

Soap leaned back in his seat, flashing her a grin. “Don’t worry, lass. If we crash, Ghost’ll probably land us on his feet like a bloody cat.”

Ghost didn’t even bother looking at him. “Focus on the mission, MacTavish.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Soap quipped, though his grin didn’t waver.

Price’s voice broke through the chatter. “Listen up. Once we’re on the ground, things will move quickly. Tarek’s network is vast, but we have intel on a small arms deal happening at a warehouse outside Beirut. Our job is to intercept, secure evidence, and take down anyone who tries to stop us.”

“And the suit?” Ghost asked, his tone devoid of any warmth.

Leaning forward to glare at Ghost. “The suit has a name you know.” 

Price’s gaze flicked to ___. “She’s here to ensure what we find sticks in court and to make sure we don't violate any international laws. You’ll keep her safe.”

Ghost didn’t respond, but his silence spoke volumes. __ decided to stay quiet for the rest of the flight, knowing anything she said would only add fuel to the fire. She stared out the window instead, watching the dark clouds swirl outside.

This was going to be a long mission.

---

The plane touched down on a small airstrip outside the city, the wheels screeching against the tarmac. The team disembarked quickly, the cold night air biting at their skin. They moved with practiced efficiency, loading their gear onto waiting trucks.

The base was a small, makeshift outpost nestled in the hills overlooking Beirut. As the convoy approached, the sound of generators and the hum of radio chatter greeted them. Soldiers moved about purposefully, their silhouettes stark against the floodlights illuminating the area.

Price led the group into the main operations tent, where maps and monitors covered every available surface. An officer greeted them with a sharp salute, then handed Price a tablet with the latest intel.

“Welcome Captin,” the officer said. “We’ve got eyes on the warehouse. Minimal movement so.”

Price nodded, motioning for the team to gather around. “We’ll go over the plan in the morning. For now, get some rest. Long day ahead.”

The team dispersed, each heading to their assigned quarters. __ was shown to a small, room with a cot, a desk, and a single lamp. She dropped her bag onto the floor and sat on the edge of the cot, exhaustion already creeping in. Just as she started to kick off her boots, there was a knock at the door.

Price stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Got a minute?” he asked.

“Yeah sure,” she replied, though her tone was wary.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “You’re not a soldier. I get that. But out there, it won’t matter. Bullets don’t discriminate. If you can’t hold your own, you’re a liability to the team.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not here to fight. I’m here to ensure justice is served.”

“And you can’t do that if you’re dead,” he countered. “Starting tomorrow, Ghost will run you through the basics. Enough to keep you alive if things go south.”

Her stomach sank. “Ghost?”

Price’s lips twitched in what might’ve been a small smrik. “He’s the best we’ve got. You’ll learn fast.”

---

The morning sun cast a pale light over the base as __ made her way to the training area. She’d slept fitfully, the looming prospect of Ghost’s “training” keeping her awake. When she arrived, he was already there, his imposing figure standing by a table laden with gear.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice as gruff as ever.

“It’s six in the morning,” she shot back. “I’m not exactly a morning person.”

“Good thing you’re not here for a vacation,” he retorted. “Grab a vest. We’ll start with the basics.”

She sighed, shrugging into the heavy tactical vest he handed her. It felt like wearing a brick wall. He led her to a small range, where targets were set up at varying distances.

“First lesson: handling a firearm. If you’re in a fight, the last thing you want is to fumble.” He handed her a pistol. “Show me what you know.”

She hesitated, gripping the weapon awkwardly. “I’ve only ever handled a gun once. And it was a carnival game… I lost”

“Fantastic,” he said dryly. “Let’s fix that.”

For the next hour, he drilled her on the basics: stance, aim, trigger discipline. Her first shot hit the dirt two feet in front of the target, and her second ricocheted off the side of the range, prompting Ghost to step back with a muttered, “Bloody hell.”

“Are you trying to hit the target or scare it to death?” he asked.

“It’s harder than it looks!” she snapped, reloading with all the grace of someone trying to assemble IKEA furniture without instructions.

By the end of the session, she managed to hit the target more often than not, though her technique left much to be desired.

The second half of the sessions was worse, however. Ghost led her to an open area where he demonstrated hand-to-hand combat techniques.

“What are we doing now?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

“Teaching you how not to die when someone gets too close,” he replied. “Come at me.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Attack me,” he said, gesturing for her to move. “Don’t think. Just do it.”

With no small amount of reluctance, she lunged at him. It ended poorly—she found herself on the ground in less than two seconds.

“Again,” he ordered.

She groaned, getting to her feet. “Do you enjoy this?”

“You’ll thank me later,” he said not masking the amusement in his voice, motioning for her to try again.

Her next attempt was equally disastrous. She tried to throw a punch, but it lacked any real force, and Ghost easily sidestepped, causing her to stumble forward. By her third attempt, she was so frustrated she let out a battle cry that sounded more like an angry goose, which prompted Soap—watching from a distance—to burst out laughing.

By the time they finished, she was bruised, exhausted, and thoroughly annoyed. Ghost, on the other hand, looked as unbothered as ever almost happy even.

---

By the time dinner rolled around,  was utterly spent. Her muscles ached, her pride was bruised, and her stomach growled loud enough to echo in the mess hall. She grabbed a tray and slumped into a seat at one of the long tables, praying for a moment of peace.

Naturally, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, if it isn’t our favorite new recruit,” Soap announced, plopping down across from her with an exaggerated grin. Gaz followed, carrying his tray and shaking his head at Soap’s antics.

“I’m not a recruit,” she mumbled, poking at the unidentifiable stew on her plate. “I’m a lawyer.”

“A lawyer who can’t throw a punch to save her life,” Soap teased. “That wee war cry of yours? Nearly killed me. From laughter.”

Gaz snorted into his drink. “I’ve seen geese with more intimidating moves.”

“Ha, ha,” she said dryly, stabbing a piece of whatever kinda meat this was with her fork. “Glad I could entertain you.”

“To be fair,” Gaz added, “you did hit the target a few times by the end. Progress, eh?”

“Sure, if you call barely competent progress,” she muttered. “Ghost probably thinks I’m hopeless.”

Soap grinned. “Nah, if he thought you were hopeless, he wouldn’t bother trainin’ you. He’s just got a funny way of showin’ encouragement.”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use,” she said, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Before they could continue, an officer entered the mess hall, his expression tense. The room quieted as he approached their table.

“Captain Price wants everyone in the operations tent,” he said, his tone brisk. “We’ve got activity at the warehouse. Looks like the deal’s happening sooner than expected.”

Instantly, the atmosphere shifted. Soap and Gaz were on their feet in seconds, their joking demeanor replaced with sharp focus.

“Guess playtime’s over,” Soap said, getting up from his spot and heading to the operation tent outside. 

__ stares down at her food before getting up with Gaz as they both start to head to the tent. 

“Hey maybe you might get lucky and Terek is scared of geese,” Gaz says with a chuckle.

“Please shut up…”

hey guys... so... yeah been a minute hasn't it.

I'm so sorry for the super super late update. Iv been stuck in the hospital due to a heart condition I suffer from and with the holidays I was just so stressed with that and my condition that I wasn't able to write anything.

but now I'm out horray so happy lol. but I started writing again just not sure about the schedule of when stuff with come out now also since I'll be starting college back up again so ill be busy. but I'll try my best to get stuff out to yall. also, I don't want this story to be a crazy slow burn so I might try to push things along in the next one and start the juicy stuff soon. hehehehhehehe.

[melrosing]

MBO Robert's Rebellion: Season 2 Episode 2

what the fuck is this: it's me drafting a fake robert's rebellion tv show through a series of bullet points. there will be two seasons of ten episodes each

i figured actually this one is basically done so im posting it. the rest should come prettyyyy quickly now, it's just a couple story strains where i'm making the last few edits to get everything in across the ten eps. anyway this 'season' is probably a wholeass exercise for me in trying to make sense of Rhaegar Targaryen so welcome, pls come along for the ride.

SEASON ONE: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6, Episode 7, Episode 8, Episode 9, Episode 10

SEASON TWO: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3

title for this one: rhaegar breaks everything

Lyanna wakes in her tent to the sound a baby’s desperate screams. Perplexed, she dresses hurriedly and saddles her horse, riding off at pace to where she thinks they seem to come from. She grows more frustrated the further she rides, never seeming to get any closer. Suddenly, she hears a voice scream her name - it’s Ned’s. She sends her horse to a gallop, and reaches a familiar clearing: she met Rhaegar here a year ago, during the tourney of Harrenhal. Distracted, Lyanna regards the place a moment in silence, then reaches inside her cloak to find the flower crown Rhaegar gave her back then. It’s dried out now. A voice whispers ‘Lyanna’ more quietly, and Lyanna, alarmed, turns to see Rhaegar, leading a horse of his own. She asks if he heard a child; Rhaegar says he didn’t. Lyanna says she’d thought she’d heard Ned too, but he’s in the Vale. She supposes she must’ve been dreaming. Rhaegar asks if she dreams often, Lyanna says she dreams sometimes. Rhaegar asks of what, Lyanna says of this place, of blue roses, and of - she looks at him, stops. But Rhaegar knows already. He says, ‘I dream, too.’

Opening creds

Brandon riding for the Stark camp with Edmure, who chatters beside him about how he’s never ridden this far before. They meet Benjen at the outpost, who looks anxious; Brandon asks what the matter is, Benjen tells him it’s Lyanna. Together, they ride hard for camp

Ned and Robert at the Eyrie. Robert is bouncing a toddler in his lap, whilst Ned looks miserable. Robert makes reference to Brandon’s wedding, says Ned might have gone; Ned replies that he doubts Brandon will miss him. Rickard neither for that matter - Ned suspects he had always favoured his brothers. Robert laughs at that, assuring Ned that he’s the best of them - but for a man unbetrothed he could afford to have a little more fun. Ned says sceptically that betrothal has never kept Robert from fun, and Robert laughs, making the toddler (Mya) in his lap laugh too. Robert laughs the harder

Brandon and Edmure meet Rickard in the woods, searching for Lyanna. Rickard tells them that he and Lyanna had fought, and he suspects Lyanna may be sulking somewhere - but these woods are too dangerous for that, and she must be found. The rumours are already abound, too, that she is wild and loose, and he fears for their betrothal if Robert were to find out about this. He rides off, vexed 

Benjen asks Brandon if everything will be alright; Brandon isn’t sure, says he suspects Rickard is more worried than he’s letting on  

Jaime guarding Rhaella in the godswood; he has seen little of her since he took up his post, and notices bruises about her neck - the only part of her uncovered. Rhaella tells Jaime she remembers his mother, talks fondly about her as though talking to herself. She was such a child: giggled a lot, had plenty of daydreams, a sweet girl in her way, before she became lofty Lady Lannister. Jaime isn’t really listening, distracted by her injuries - he asks if she’s alright. Rhaella’s face clouds over; she tells Jaime it’s nothing, and speaks no more

Cut to Aerys in the throne room. Where is his goddamn son??? Rhaegar has not been seen for several nights. Aerys airs the suspicion that Rhaegar rides for Casterly Rock to plot against him with Tywin Lannister. Varys says he shudders to think… but it is said that Rhaegar did not take the Goldroad. Aerys wonders if Jaime Lannister knows something. Gerold Hightower says he’s sure the boy knows nothing. Varys says they can’t know that. Either way - Hightower changing the subject - for all his strength, Rhaegar is vulnerable when riding alone, and should be found. He says he will send two of his own men to find the Prince. Arthur Dayne knows him well, and will doubtless find him in good time 

Elia alone in her rooms, with her children playing at her feet. Rhaenys asks where father is; Elia, feeling too tired to comfort her daughter, simply tells her she doesn’t know. Rhaenys, weepy now, asks if he’s coming back. Elia says she doesn’t know that either. Rhaenys starts to cry, and Elia, looking dead inside, does nothing for several moments before reaching down to pick her up and comfort her. She tells Rhaenys about Dorne, says if father can run away then so can they. They’ll go to the Water Gardens, and Rhaenys can play with her cousin Arianne. Rhaenys asks if father will be sad if they go. Elia says no, she doesn’t think he’d be sad at all

Arthur Dayne in the WST, packing bags. Jaime watches on, asks where he is going. Arthur says to find the Prince. Jaime says he’ll go with him, Arthur says no. Jaime tries to argue, Arthur remains steadfast. Upset, Jaime says that he knows Arthur regrets knighting him, thinks it was a mistake to ever place him in the KG to begin with. Arthur says that isn’t so, it is simply that the King needs him here. For what?? Jaime says the King hates him. Arthur does not deny it, but states simply that there will come a time when the King will have great need of him. Jaime stares at him, perplexed. Ser Gerold Hightower walks in, and says he has an errand for Arthur, yet is startled to see Arthur is packing already. Jaime even more perplexed 

Ned running errands for Jon Arryn in a small town in the Vale. In a tavern, he attracts the notice of a black-haired girl, who flirts with him. Ned is uncomfortable, buts feels some attraction himself. She says she’s noticed him before with his friend, but she’s always liked Ned better. Ned feels himself being drawn in, doesn’t altogether like it - but likes it a little. The girl suggests they go somewhere quieter, and Ned tentatively agrees. As he follows her to the back rooms, she kisses him. Ned is shocked despite himself, and just as they reach the door he declines after all and turns back, embarrassed

Searching the woods for Lyanna. Benjen finds her dried flower crown on the forest floor where she had been the night previous, and runs to deliver it to his father and brother. Rickard and Brandon look at it horrified, till a local arrives with guards to tell them what he saw: Rhaegar rode past their village last night, and he had a girl with him. Rickard in crisis mode: he orders Benjen to return North to hold Winterfell. Benjen tells his father he doesn’t want to leave; he wants to find his sister. Brandon tells him there must always be a Stark in Winterfell (doesn’t explain why there wasn’t one this whole time but I digress), and Rickard tells him that they will return in good time - but not without Lyanna

Cat and Lysa waiting on the parapets for Brandon. Cat wonders why Lysa seems in such a good mood today, and asks her - but Lysa won’t reveal, hums smugly to herself

Suddenly they see Edmure on the horizon, but there’s no sign of Brandon??? The sisters race to the gates and find their father is there already. Edmure, both panicked and confused, tells their father that Brandon has ridden for KL - wtf???

Ned returns to the Eyrie, is told Jon Arryn wants him urgently. Ned bizarrely feels like he’s in trouble, enters Jon Arryn’s solar nervously - finds Robert pacing in rage, and Jon looking sorrowful. There’s been raven etc

Rhaegar and Lyanna riding together. Rhaegar is very quiet, and Lyanna doesn’t quite know where she’s following him to - but follows nonetheless. She asks lots of questions, doesn’t get many clear answers, till Rhaegar reveals he believes they were meant to meet that day at Harrenhal. Had she felt it, too? Lyanna frowns, intrigued, but a little frightened, too. Perhaps she had felt that, too. Rhaegar looks at her, knowingly

[ohbloggerimagines]

Hello! How are you? I hope your day is going swell :)

I love your possessive/protective!Rocket X Reader headcanons! The subconscious actions of him trying to keep her safe are so CUTE

Would I be able to request a oneshot of when the Guardians were out, Rocket noticed someone, or a group, staring at (Y/N), so he walked behind her, blocking their view of her ass.

Maybe he pat her hip/ass, something that was a normal thing between Rocket and (Y/N), so she just instinctively scratches behind his ears while Rocket glares or smirks at the stranger/s.

i feel like i could've done better with this one so i might end up redoing it ;;

also i refuse to belive gamora and peter are no longer together so just believe they are ! ill die on that hill

pairing: rocket raccoon x fem!reader

word count: 558

tags: gotg, rocket raccoon x reader, fem! reader, possesive rocket

“Rocky!” You shouted happily, pointing to one of the many shops within Contraxia, almost swooning over the handmade beanies being sold. “The hell you need one of those for? I can make you one! Besides, you get one every time we come here!” He grumbled, waving the shop off and making you groan and roll your eyes. 

You and the Guardians needed a break, deciding to stop off at your favorite icy planets for a few drinks. It was pretty packed that day, Rocket making sure you stayed close to him and the group in general with all the idiots and pickpocketers around. 

Passing the Iron Lotus, you watched Peter’s wandering eyes almost get slapped out of their sockets by Gamora, making you and Mantis snicker. You two were good friends, being able to have girl talk without being judged was nice. You stepped a little ahead Rocket, lightly bumping Mantis and striking up conversation about how cold it was, and all the little things you two definitely needed to buy. 

“I saw this super cute jacket last time we were here, hopefully I can find it before we go. It would look so good on you!” You conversed with her, “You think? We must find it later!” Mantis beamed, excited to hang out with you. 

Rocket’s head was on a swivel, watching every single person that walked by or even those who stood at the shops. He was not taking any chances with idiots this time. 

There were so many..men everywhere. His nerves were on edge.

Finally, the crew made it to their favorite hole in the wall bar, the Whistling Outpost. Quant enough that nothing too crazy went on, but it was never a dull vibe inside. There was a line outside the door, a guard checking everyone's name on his tablet to make sure they weren’t letting in any stowaways or general freaks. 

Peter and Gamora were in the front, behind them was Drax and Nebula, followed by you and Mantis still chattering away, with a very attached raccoon at your side. 

He could feel the eyes not only on him but on you. Rocket’s eyes scanned around slowly to find the idiot who thought it was a good idea to stare at what was his. There was a group of them, dirty, drunk, and daring, staring and pointing while making quiet suggestive comments the keen raccoon could hear. Rocket decided not to make a big deal tonight, he just wanted to relax..

Instead, he slyly turned his body to face you, blocking their view of your ass and anything else they might want to stare at, creating a barrier but not making too much of an issue. He glanced over at the group, noticing a slight change in their stature. Rocket gently tapped your ass, his paw sliding to your belt loop and hooking his finger through it to hang on to you. 

You felt his comforting touch and without missing a beat you glanced down at him and scratched lightly behind his ear, smiling at him before going back to talking Mantis’ ear off.

Rocket grinned, turning back to the drunken group, taunting them with his smirk. The look of defeat on their faces was enough for him to enjoy it.

No one got to look at you when he was around.

[squinkyduckling]

Huddle For Warmth | Ezreal x Reader

A night spent in an abandoned outpost in Freljord changes your friendship with Ezreal.

Content tags: 18+ (minors dni!), very light smut, afab!reader (there is like one mention of female anatomy ^^)

A/N: first (serious) spicy fanfic. hope you enjoy! :)

Word count: ~2.1k

The cold in Freljord is brutal and unrelenting, just like its people. That is what you had been taught your entire life - a life that had been spent in the temperate climate of Piltover. In school you were taught about all the nations of Runeterra, Freljord just one of them. You learned about the climate, the culture, the wildlife and most importantly about how dangerous and unforgiving the land was. 

No amount of education could have prepared you for the harsh reality of it all. 

You shivered, teeth chattering, as you squeezed your arms tighter around yourself to try and keep what little warmth you had to yourself. 

Next to you, your companion seemed a little less bothered by the freezing wind. ‘A true adventurer’ you thought to yourself. Ezreal was a tried and tested explorer who had braced many environments - unlike you, a fledgling Piltover Enforcer who had never left the city before. And yet, when you saw that a missing persons report was filed for Ezreal’s uncle, professor Lymere, you immediately volunteered to accompany the young adventurer on his journey to look for his uncle. 

By the time you lost your backpack while crossing a particularly rickety rope bridge spanning over a deep gorge, you had started to wonder if maybe you weren’t cut out for this after all. 

A bump against your shoulder tore you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see Ezreal staring down at you with a raised eyebrow. 

“You look like you are about to turn into an ice cube” he said with a playful grin, but you could make out a trace of concern in his voice. 

You huffed, hot mist floating between your lips. “I’d say I feel like one, but I’m not sure I’m feeling anything” you joked, earning a breathy chuckle from your friend. 

“We are near a science outpost from the university,” Ezreal explained, “let’s rest there and then continue north.” 

North. You shivered at the thought but eagerly nodded at the prospect of shelter. 

You continued your trek, while the sky grew darker, the snow storm around you thicker and the air colder. Now you noticed, even Ezreal was pulling his thick coat closer to his body. 

Soon enough, a small wooden hut came into view and the both of you noticeably picked up pace at the sight of shelter.

To your disappointment, once you arrived, the building looked run-down and like it hadn't been in use for a long while. 

Ezreal approached the door carefully, but with a ponderous look on his face. “Huh… they must have abandoned this outpost.”

He opened the door and once you were inside, you took a look around. The hut was made up of one big room that was illuminated by moonlight shining through the windows, and a second adjacent room, that you assumed to be a small bathroom. The floor was dirty and the wood creaked under your steps. Most of the furniture was either broken or knocked over and one of the shack’s windows had a hole in it, letting in a steady stream of cold air.

You sighed. “What are we supposed to do now?”

Ezreal shrugged with a crooked smile. “Make do with what we have?”  

You watched him approach a wooden shelf that was knocked to the ground. “Here, help me with this” he said and together you lifted the furniture upright, dragging in front of the broken window, creating a makeshift shielding from the cold gust.

Ezreal nodded with a satisfied look on his face. "See?" he said, "First step taken - more to go!” 

“If you say so…” you looked at the banged up room with doubt to which your friend shrugged nonchalantly.

“Believe me, I have slept in much worse conditions.” 

You raised a questioning eyebrow at that, but Ezreal didn't elaborate further, instead retorting with a shuddered “Much worse…” before returning to his endeavor in bringing the hut into a somewhat acceptable state. He started rummaging through cabinets in pursuit of anything useful.

Meanwhile, you grabbed a beat up broom from a corner and decided to sweep a spot of the room that you assessed could make a good place to sleep.

After a while, Ezreal let out a triumphant Aha!, holding up blankets that he found in a cabinet, along with several thick furs. He carried the blankets and furs over to the spot you had cleaned to the best of your abilities. 

Soon enough, Ezreal created a soft make-shift bed that looked almost cozy, given the circumstances. 

“Looks great!” you said, earning a proud grin from your friend. A yawn escaped your mouth, the sight of a bed reminding you of just how tired and exhausted you were - and how cold. You just wanted to bundle up under the thick blankets that were laid out. 

“I’ll take my sleeping bag,” Ezreal chimed in, as if reading your thoughts, rummaging through his backpack. “You sleep on the furs. Since your backpack has mysteriously disappeared…”

With a wink, he pulled out his brown, fur-lined bedroll. 

You rolled your eyes half-jokingly at his jab, watching him spread the sleeping bag next to the fur bed. 

Your coat suddenly felt very heavy on your shoulders and you felt a strong desire to shed your half-frozen clothes. You cleared your throat, causing Ezreal to look up at you.

“Would you mind… turning around?” you asked, voice faltering with embarrassment.

His eyes went wide for just a second, before turning around. “Of course!” 

There was a moment of silence in which neither of you moved or did anything, before Ezreal spoke up again. “You as well, okay?”

And you obliged, understanding the implication of his intentions. 

The awkward silence that hung in the room was only interrupted by the shuffling of clothing, as both of you undressed. You peeled off your coat that was still covered in crystalline snow, laying it on a nearby table. The rest of your clothes felt just as damp and cold as the coat, so you took them off too, until you were completely bare. A shiver went through you, and you walked backwards towards the make-shift bed, feeling for the fur with your hand, in order to avoid accidentally peeping on Ezreal. 

The thought of your friend being just a short distance away from you, just as naked as you were, made a juxtaposing heat rise to your cheeks. 

When you reached the furs, you quickly crawled under the thick fabric. “I am under the blanket now” you said, eyes closed. 

You heard a faint shuffling next to and a whispered ‘me too’ before you opened your eyes again.

You looked at Ezreal, whose eyes were already on you, a light blush dusting his features. 

“Try to get some sleep” he said before turning in his bedroll, facing away from you. You figured the situation must have been just as awkward for him as it was for you. 

You hummed in response, before closing your eyes again, bundling into the blankets to try and warm up. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed but both sleep and warmth seemed to elude you, no matter how long you tried. You stared up to the ceiling frustrated and still chilled to the bone and quivering, despite being burrowed in a nest of fur. For a short moment, you worried you might be hypothermic.

As a shiver jolted through you, an idea entered your mind. Body heat - the sharing of it specifically. You had been told before that it's a very efficient way to generate warmth. 

Your eyes flitted over to Ezreal’s still form, considering the idea. Embarrassment clouded your thoughts, mortified at the idea of asking your friend to get under the blankets with you. But after another particularly frigid chill traveled down your spine, you decided to swallow your shame. 

“Ezreal… Are you awake?” you whispered.

A low, questioning hum came in response, followed by him shifting to face you. 

“I am cold” you said matter-of-factly.

Ezreal sighed, nodding knowingly. “If only this place had a fireplace… and wood… and kindling… and-”

“I think I got the picture,” you interrupted him, earning a chuckle from him.

“I am cold too,” he admitted. 

You bit your lip, considering your next words. “I’ve heard sharing body heat is supposed to help…” you trailed off slightly. 

A moment of silence passed that felt like an eternity to you before Ezreal breathed out a quiet Oh. You shut your eyes, cringing inwardly, prepared to make it seem like some joke, when you heard shifting and rustling of fabric next to you. Before you knew it, the side of your blankets was lifted and lowered again. 

You tentatively opened your eyes again, only to be met with the familiar face of your friend, now much closer than ever before. 

“Hi,” he breathed with a lopsided grin. 

Your eyes widened in surprise. “I didn't think you’d actually do it” you let out a nervous laugh.

Ezreal shrugged. “Wouldn't want you freezing to death on your first adventure now, would we?” 

You were amazed at how calm he seemed given the circumstances. The both of you were so close together, while at least you were completely naked - and you guessed the same was true for him. It seemed almost indecent. 

You wondered if he just put up an act to keep up his usual cool demeanor.

You felt a hand tentatively reach out towards your arm, the sensation sending a tingling jolt through you. 

“May I?” Ezreal questioned, not finishing the entire sentence, but you knew what he was asking for. Permission.

You nodded slowly, swallowing dryly. 

Ezreal snaked an arm around your back, gently pulling you closer, until your chest was touching his. You could feel the muscles of his arm under you and his abs against your stomach, realizing just how fit he actually was. A blush crept up your neck, thinking about the way your breasts were squished against him, and you swore you heard him let out a shaky breath as he flung his other arm over your side. With your knees touching, you jutted out your hips a little to create some distance between your most private parts.

You shifted your gaze to rest on Ezreal’s face. He regarded you through half-lidded eyes. 

“I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you” you whispered apologetically.

He shook his head. “Not at all.” He paused for a moment, swallowing hard before adding in a much quieter voice: “Quite the opposite actually.”

Your breath hitched at his words. Did you hear that correctly? Did he mean what he was implying? 

“Sorry” he let out a shaky laugh, “I think the proximity is fogging up my brain.” 

You tittered nervously, unsure what to say. Another silence settled over the two of you, neither saying a word, instead just staring at each other. Subconsciously, you drew closer to one another, until your faces were only a few inches apart. 

Your mouth felt impossibly dry. You had never thought about your friend that way. Of course, you could admit he was attractive but never more than a factual observation. But now? Now your thoughts were swimming with him and what he said. Your senses were foggy with his scent and the sensation of his closeness. Your eyes were glued to his face, his eyes and his lips. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” Ezreal asked, reminiscent of your earlier question. You could feel his breath on your lips when he spoke and it left a pleasant tingle on your skin.

“Quite the opposite” you mimicked his own response, your words now barely perceptible to anything but his ears. 

His face inched even closer to yours, his lips a fleeting ghost over your own. Another beat passed, another nervous swallow, another shaky breath, before the gap between you fully closed.

You pressed your lips cautiously against his, as if to test the waters, when he returned the gesture with more pressure, longing etched into his movement.

You hummed in a mix of surprise and content as your lips moved against his in a soft and steady rhythm. The kiss quickly turned more fervent, both of you feverishly dancing against each other. Ezreal's grip around your side tightened, while his other hand wandered down to your hip, squeezing experimentally. To his satisfaction, you hummed with curious desire.

You straightened out your legs, to find a warm hardness pressing against your pelvis, tentatively jutting forward to create friction, earning a surprised sound from Ezreal. Soft moans spilled out between open-mouthed kisses, as your tongues danced around each other.

Lightheadedness flooded your brain and you broke away from the kiss, staring at each other, panting for air. 

A loopy grin spread on Ezreal’s lips. “Is this how you imagined your first adventure to be?”

You giggled, before kissing him again. 

This was definitely a better adventure than you would have ever thought.