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decembermidnight · 11 months ago

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Don't lose your focus

Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie

A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3 - Read Part 2 here!

Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.

Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.

Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.

Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.

The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.

After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.

As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him.

You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.

The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.

"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.

"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.

You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again.

"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.

"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.

Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.

You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.

Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.

"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.

"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.

His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.

As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen.

When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.

As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus.

Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate.

You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.

Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.

“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.

He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.

You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.

Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...

The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.

Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…

When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.

It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.

You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.” You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.

Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.

Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.

“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”

You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.

As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.

Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected. The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.

As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.

“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.

"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.

"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.

Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.

Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.

As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.

You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his.

He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.

"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.

You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…

"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.

You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on.

Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.

"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.

"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.

He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.

"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.

He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man.

You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.

You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.

He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.

"Hunter–" you sigh.

"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.

The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most.

You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.

Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.

"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.

One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you.

"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.

Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.

For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.

He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.

Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close.

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.

It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.

Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.

The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants.

You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.

He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.

Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.

Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body.

Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.

He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.

You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.

"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.

Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear.

You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.

"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina."

"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.

A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.

"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.

You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him.

"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.

The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock.

Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure.

"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.

You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels.

"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"

"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.

“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.

“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.

Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.

"Maker…" you whisper.

You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.

Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that.

"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts.

He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.

"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.

"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.

"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine."

"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.

He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.

"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.

"Is that an order, Commander?"

"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.

"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.

"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.

Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.

"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan.

You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.

Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.

"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.

"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.

"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.

"Not yet," he smirks.

Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.

He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.

"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.

"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.

You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.

Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.

You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.

As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.

You really do make a great team, after all.

Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)

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circuitcircus · 9 months ago

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in defense of kabumisu……..

addressing things I see people say about why kabru being shipped w mithrun is ‘bad’ or why their canon relationship ‘doesn’t mean anything’ while also clearing up misconceptions of the characters some fans have

listen it keeps popping up and I just gotta do this or my brain will melt (if you don’t see it around then god I wish that were me) there’s an age gap!- erm there’s also an age gap in farcille (ily), the most popular ship in the series...also chilchuck looks like a kid but a lot of fans recognize him as a dilf because of his relative age, so there should be no age gap discourse among adult characters because it feels so conditional tbh

kabru taking care of mithrun is racist!- marcille likes to take care of others as well. is that sexist, or just an aspect of her character?

kabru isn’t treated like a servant, waiting on mithrun hand and foot…I mean he gives mithrun a foot massage but no one told him to do all that lmfao

he's also not the only one to care for mithrun. pattadol is shown to worry for him and milsril was the one to start taking care mithrun in the first place after he…...y’know. speaking of which-

they probably met when kabru was a kid!- neither of them showed signs of recognizing each other the entire time mithrun was introduced nor when they were together. and im pretty sure KABRU of all people would show some kind of recognition if they'd met before. it's kabru!!! the people person!!! mr. "i-noted-down-50+-characters-in-this-dude's-backstory-for-fun-and-actually-enjoy-social-gatherings"

you would think some kind of memory would come back to him especially after hearing mithrun’s backstory if milsril had even told kabru about him as a kid. but nope. it’s just fan speculation unless there's a side comic suggesting otherwise that i haven't seen

mithrun doesn't care about kabru, his shapeshift double looked like shit!- it's obviously because of mithrun's (then) lack of desires that it looked like that, but they really grow on each other

i think it's safe to assume it'd look more like kabru after they spent so much time together (also laios can barely even remember kabru's name..also saw his face multiple times and didn’t recognize him when they talked for the first time)

mithrun is racist!- he’s actually the least likely character to be racist since he lost his desires and that includes a desire for superiority over others. he even calls his past self out on that part of himself. the other elves in that side comic were being just as racist to shorter lived races but just didn’t use ‘outdated slurs’

(unfortunately literally every main character in dunmeshi is at least a lil prejudiced, but I believe it’s worldbuilding and a sign of the times rather than a reason ryoko kui is giving to hate each character)

taking care of others is a pain in the ass!- saying this as a reason kabru and mithrun shouldn't be together is basically saying disabled people shouldn't be allowed to have romantic relationships because they're a "burden"...if someone is actually willing to put in the work, then let them be.

that's not even all of their relationship, mithrun is the fighter of their duo and kabru would've been killed by the shapeshifter or something if he'd fallen down the hole on his own since he sucks at fighting monsters. mithrun helps collect ingredients for cooking every time, too (barometz fruits and griffin egg). he pulls his weight and then some!! i feel like people forget that part of mithrun a lot somehow.

+senshi literally cooks for everyone all time. it's kind of an important aspect of the narrative.

+also, while it is a popular fan thing I see around that kabru handfeeds mithrun, he literally never does lol this is mithrun using his own hands to eat:

also here we have him washing his own body

just saying because people like to treat mithrun like a baby even though the narrative respects him as a capable adult who also has special needs because of an accident. he’s captain for a reason

kabru hates taking care of mithrun!- not exactly, he was initially surprised and put off but got used to it quickly. i’m sure he’s grateful for all the times mithrun saved him from a monster and teleported them out of danger as well

he even starts doing “unnecessary” things for mithrun’s comfort and safety like when mithrun pushes himself too hard fighting, even after his mission to take care of him was complete when the canaries came back

here is even kabru resting while mithrun keeps watch (mithrun let him sleep for 5 hours before waking him up from the nightmare earlier, too):

there's nothing more to their relationship!- they actually have had a very tight and consistent dynamic since they met and they incite the most change within each other by the end. kabru is the one who inspires mithrun to create new desires so he doesn't waste away, and mithrun is the first person we see kabru being genuine with and it leads him to be more honest with others by the end instead of tiptoeing around everyone all the time (that mask was also the reason some ppl initially disliked kabru…)

kabru’s relationship with mithrun is honestly so important for his character and vice versa, but it’s often disregarded because of one over exaggerated aspect of it (an aspect that isn’t even the first way they interact with each other) or because people want to just straight up ignore it for some reason 🥲🥲

kui dedicates many panels to them that don't particularly serve the narrative as a whole in order to demonstrate this and i think that's pretty significant

you're taking this too seriously!- as if i'm the first person in the world to be crazy about a ship or the characters 😭 i love analyzing text and it's upsetting to see them mischaracterized when kui lays out the characters so clearly and deliberately

also they end up touching each other like all the time and have the kind of canon validation most ppl can only dream of lol i feel so insane look at this:

and this is just when they're first getting to know each other cuz there's a fuckload more

kinda hard to explain how i don't actually need them to get married or whatever but i'd die on this hill for them and i enjoy their dynamic immensely

haha you thought you were reading ship discourse but it was actually a character analysis 🤪🤪🤪

also don’t somehow take this to mean I think anyone has to ship them, I just need everyone to understand these accusations kind of don’t make sense especially when they can also apply to other pairs or characters

bonus kabru just looking at mithrun:

#dungeon meshi #kabumisu #kabru of utaya #mithrun #dungeon meshi spoilers #i'd rather be able to enjoy their dynamic without feeling like i have to explain it but i keep seeing the same takes i cant do this anym-#i feel like i advocate for kabumisu so much because i see so many people mischaracterizing kabru to make l4bru work like how they want #by saying he’s obsessed w laios because he thinks he’s hot..but he was curious about his autistic behavior and eventually thought his lack #of malice would make laios the best candidate for becoming dungeon lord to prevent another utaya tragedy. tho eventually he doubts that #not that i care that he's shipped with laius. i just want ppl to see kabru for who he IS bc some still think hes nothing but a shady bicth #i think that's best shown through his dynamic with mithrun (other than his own words of course) so i want ppl to acknowledge it properly #like idk if I can trust popular fan interpretations of the characters or relationships anymore after the shit with toshiro bro 💀💀#not trying to attach kabru’s entire being to mithrun or anything either just..saying #hm i feel like the way i worded all of this will make some ppl mad. not my intention but whoops #anyways has anyone drawn ship art of senshi and mithrun yet? anyone?

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hannahbarberra162 · 6 months ago

Text

Under the Microscope (Yandere Sabo x Reader)

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Part 2

Inspired by "A Good Prisoner," by greenflowerpot. They're an incredible writer, I used the story setup but with Sabo. I'm not sure how many parts this will be, but it won't follow the same story path beyond the jail.

Also I don’t know anything about molecules. Or genes. Or anything related to Sciemps. So if it’s wrong, uh... just roll with it.

Yandere Sabo X Reader (no use of Y/N)

~~~

Sabo's the best prisoner you've ever had at your Marine base. He's polite, handsome, and pleasant company. You'll be sad when he gets sent to Impel Down. But Sabo's got other ideas that might not align with your own.

The Marines aren't taking good care of you. So Sabo's going to have to do it himself.

Flame Emperor Sabo was the best prisoner you’d ever guarded. It surprised you because you preferred pirate prisoners to Revolutionary Army prisoners. Pirates were at least straightforward, saying lewd comments to you, leering at you, and mocking you in equal amounts. Their disdain for you as a Marine, particularly a desk bound Marine, was nearly palpable in every interaction.

Revolutionaries, however, seemed to think that you were unaware of the situation of the world and lectured you endlessly about how you were a cog in the machine that would destroy everything and everyone in it. The constant aggrandizing of their own station - while in literal chains! - was so grating you stopped interacting with any of them long ago. Instead you’d study during your guard shift, hoping the prisoner at hand would sleep or leave you alone. You knew the Marines weren’t a benevolent government force, but science as a career really only existed within the context of the World Government. Unless you wanted to work directly for a pirate or Warlord, which was….risky at best. Being a Marine killed two birds with one stone - you got to work in your dream profession and you got to send steady money back to your family. So you shut your mouth, completed basic training and joined the ranks of the Marines.

After basic training, you’d made your way into the research division of the Marines, forgoing active duty. You didn’t see battle or even leave the base, just worked on the research assignments handed down to you from your superiors. Over the past two years, the projects had gotten increasingly complex and you had to spend nearly all your waking hours working or studying. If you could devote all your time to research, you might be able to finish with a little more speed. Unfortunately, the Marines had a rule that all Devil Fruit users had to supervise prisoners at minimum once a week. You assumed they made the rule thinking Devil Fruit users would be able to use their powers to fight, but that wasn’t true for you. You’d tried to get your name off the list of Devil Fruit guards to no avail. Government red tape and regulations meant that for at least 8 hours a week, you’d be watching whoever was in the maximum security jail cell. No one liked guard duty - you’d rather be researching and the other Marines would rather be fighting.

Your base - Bayonette - was strategically located at a narrowing of the Grand Line paths. Ships had to pass near the island unless they wanted to take a much longer route around it. Which meant that most of the Marines at your base were from the fighting corps, and enjoyed engaging the pirates and Revolutionaries in battle. You were one of two scientists at this base, you hadn’t been asked where you wanted to be stationed. You had hoped to get to a science focused base, but you took what came your way. The other Marines were disdainful of your position, thinking you provided no real use to the base as a whole. You’d tried to fit in with them for a few months but gave up as they grew more hostile towards you the more you tried. Sure, every time there was a party someone would secretly try to get into your pants, but for the most part they found you weak and pointless. You avoided them, they ignored or taunted you. You spent nearly all of your time alone and working both to complete your projects and to avoid the others. It was a lonely time for you, even if it was important for your career.

You were so disconnected from the active duty staff that you hadn’t even known a prisoner as notorious as the Flame Emperor was at the base until you walked in for your shift, textbook and notes tucked under your arm and cup of coffee in your hand. He was laying on the wide metal bench that doubled as his bed, hands in seastone cuffs resting behind his head. Upon seeing you, he sat upright, straightened his suit coat, and put his tophat on his head.

He was wearing an interesting ensemble, but you’d seen far worse. He had a full suit complete with frilly shirt, top hat with goggles, and leather gloves. The cell room was usually warm but today it felt downright hot, you wondered why he wasn’t removing some of his layers. Not that it really mattered. He had prominent facial scarring covering his left eye and going further down his face and neck. The eye with the scarring was milky white, while the other was startlingly blue, like the color of a turbulent sea. He had likely been good looking before the scars, but now he was unreasonably attractive for a criminal. You wondered how he got his scars - probably from nefarious activities of some kind. You realized belatedly you were staring at him.

“Hello, pleased to meet you. I’m Sabo,” he said, tipping his hat to you. He was introducing himself like you were on a blind date, not a prisoner and guard.

“Aren’t you the Flame Emperor?” you asked him. Did you get your criminals mixed up again? You’d found out the hard way nothing made them angrier than confusing them for someone else. Not that they could do anything to you from behind bars, but it was annoying to listen to them rant and rave about your mistake.

“That’s my epithet, but you can just call me Sabo.” Your surprise must have registered on your face because he looked at you from his cell and smiled kindly.

“Um, it’s nice to meet you, Sabo.” You sat down opposite his cell on the long bench provided to you and put down your textbook and sheets of notes. The bench was bracketed by thick walls on either side, giving you something to lean against while seated if it was a smooth shift.

“How come you’ve never been my guard before?”

“Oh, I only work one or two shifts a week.” Generally you avoided talking to prisoners, especially about information related to Marine matters, but you couldn’t see how this would hurt. It’s not like he wouldn’t figure it out. He stared at you unblinkingly through the bars, taking stock of you head to foot. You hoped he wouldn’t try anything violent since you couldn’t do anything to stop him if he succeeded.

“Why don’t you have a gun?” Sabo was observant, usually prisoners didn’t notice at all.

“I just don’t,” you said, shrugging.

“But why don’t you have one?” he asked conversationally. Sabo’s ability to pick up your semantic games gave him some standing in your eyes. Usually you could talk your way out of having to answer questions with half truths and lies of omission. You answered him with another shrug. It was better that he didn’t know you had never been assigned one since you were only research staff. You yawned and took a sip of your coffee right after. Plenty of cream and sugar, just the way you liked it. You’d practically been mainlining coffee with this new assignment. It had come to you directly from Admiral Sakazuki himself, so you were under immense pressure to get everything right - and fast.

“You look exhausted. Are you not getting enough rest?” Sabo had come to sit in front of the bars and was continuing to watch you.

“I’m fine, thank you,” you replied coolly. The truth was that you were exhausted and had been for weeks. But when you tried to close your eyes and rest at night all you could think of was your work, how behind you were, and how you’d have to explain yourself to the Fleet Admiral. Being reminded of your sleeplessness and anxiety made your hand holding the coffee start to shake. You frowned to yourself and set down the cup on the bench. This had been happening to you for months now and was only getting worse. You put your hands under your thighs to stop them from shaking. Sabo was watching you, which made you feel self conscious, so you avoided eye contact. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes. You pulled your hands from under your legs and picked up the textbook.

“What are you reading?” Sabo asked cordially. He was not giving up. Rather, it seemed the less you talked to him, the more he wanted to talk to you. At least he wasn't being rude or crude, you supposed. You flashed him the cover of the textbook.

“Molecular Diagnostics: Nucleic acid amplification,” he said as he recited the title aloud. No one ever cared after you showed them what you read. You cracked it open to where you’d left off and started to concentrate.

“Interesting! So what are you looking for that can’t be detected with fluorescence in situ hybridization?” Your head snapped up - you hadn’t heard anyone talk about FISH since you’d been at the base.

“You know about molecular cytogenetics?” you asked in disbelief. Sabo nodded fervently, bringing his hands under his chin.

“Of course! If I hadn’t become a Revolutionary, I would have become a scientist. I still try and do some experiments on the side, but between fighting the World Government and being a Marine prisoner, I just haven’t had the time lately.” You looked down at your textbook but had a small smile on your face.

“I didn’t know this was a research base,” Sabo continued, arching his brow.

“It isn’t really.” You had to be careful about how much you said, you couldn’t give him any information about what you were working on. But this base wasn’t known for research, that was common knowledge.

“I’m not going to divulge any information,” you uttered, crossing your arms. You’d figured out his angle. Sabo probably thought he could get information out of you by pretending to be interested in what you liked. Though, he had known about FISH, so maybe some of his interest was genuine? Probably not. You’d learned from childhood onward that people only talked to you when they needed something, not for companionship. Even your own family was like that. They loved you of course, but they didn’t really understand you in any meaningful way.

“Hm? I don’t want information from you. Just conversation. You’re the most interesting Marine who’s stepped foot in here,” replied Sabo with wide eyes. You did your best to keep from rolling your eyes. How stupid did he think you were? You’d keep your guard up, there was no way he was telling the truth.

“Well, I do want one piece of information from you,” he continued. “You didn’t tell me your name. What should I call you?” He’d hear it at guard change anyway, might as well share something in the hopes it satisfied some of his curiosity.

“People around here call me Mag.” You looked back down at your textbook to hopefully end the conversation.

“Mag? That’s an unusual name. Is it short for anything?” Sabo asked, your standoffish body language not affecting his desire for conversation. He was now as close to you as he could get within his cell.

“It’s just a nickname.” It hadn’t been one you liked or wanted, but it had stuck with you since basic training.

“How did you get it?”

“Listen, I don’t … I really need to study, I’m sorry.” You cringed as you realized you had apologized to your own prisoner. It was a hard habit to break. Sabo raised his hands in front of his face apologetically and smiled at you again. You were burning up in the room - you untied your neckerchief and unbuttoned your jacket. It wasn’t inappropriate, just not in code. But it was so hot you thought you’d pass out if you didn’t do something.

“Please forgive me. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mag.” Sabo didn’t talk to you for the next few hours, but he did watch you the entire time. Every time you raised your eyes from your book to check on him, he was looking at you with interest. When you went to write notes, you’d feel his blue and white eyes on you. He wasn’t even embarrassed about being caught, he just smiled at you and continued to stare like it was the most normal thing in the world. You weren’t even sure he was blinking, just observing you like you were under a microscope. After a while, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why are you staring at me?” you snapped your textbook shut angrily, making a loud cracking noise. It was hard for you to concentrate knowing he was surveying you constantly.

“How often do your hands shake?” Sabo asked, tilting his head in curiosity. You were taken aback by his non-sequitur.

“I don’t keep track.” You did actually, and the frequency was increasing.

“It gets worse when you stop reading and start writing notes. What’s making you so nervous? It can’t be the molecules.” You pressed your lips into a thin line. You hadn’t realized it was so noticeable.

“I don’t mean to upset you. I’m just worried,” he said with a frown. You barked out an incredulous laugh.

“Worried? About me? I appreciate your concern but I think you should worry about yourself,” you said in an unamused tone. Just who did he think he was? Your father? Sabo’s frown deepened. It was finally time for shift change and you could leave this strange prisoner and his penetrating gaze. By the time you would have another shift, he might even be sent to Impel Down and wouldn’t have to think about him again. You gathered your things and walked towards the door, needing to wait for someone to come before you could leave. Unfortunately you saw your least favorite person was coming in after you, Petty Officer Koji. And petty was certainly a good term for him. Ever since you spurned his advances, he’d been making your life hell whenever he could. He opened the door suddenly with a bang, making you jump.

“Aw Mag, didn’t mean to scare you. Doors can be so very frightening,” he said sarcastically, bumping you hard with his shoulder as he came into the room. You nearly fell backwards with the force of his knock, instead stumbling into the wall behind you. He liked to pick you for a lot of reasons, but especially because of your lack of combat skills. You didn’t reply. He took his time looking you up and down, which made your skin crawl.

“Why are you out of uniform?” he asked in an obnoxious tone. You looked down and realized you forgot to rebutton your shirt and tie your neckerchief. Normally, you’d just get a verbal order to get back to code, especially since this room was known for being too warm. But you had a feeling Koji was going to make this a problem.

“I apologize, Petty Officer Koji. It was hot in the –”

“I didn’t ask for your excuse, Ensign. As punishment, you’ll take the rest of my guard shifts for the next two weeks starting tomorrow. Understood?” Ugh, he found a way to get out of his shifts on guard duty. No one liked them - you’d rather be researching and the other Marines would rather be fighting. You hoped this wouldn’t be a recurring theme.

“Understood, sir,” you gritted out. Now you’d have even less time. Your hands shook as you had them at your sides. You flicked your eyes to Sabo, who was watching your dressing down by Koji. But this time he wasn’t smiling or watching with enjoyment, he looked deathly serious. Gone was the Sabo you’d met, cheerful and chatty. Sabo was still staring, this time at Koji, and you felt like you were watching a panther stalking its prey. Even though Sabo was in chains you felt like you were trapped with him, not the other way around. This was the Flame Emperor, you thought, and the sudden change in his demeanor sent a shiver down your spine.

“Dismissed,” Koji barked at you, cracking his knuckles. You left quickly, fixing your uniform as you walked. Koji stalked towards the cell. Sabo adjusted his leather gloves.

~~~

Koji had quite a few shifts on guard duty that week, no wonder he wanted to dump them on you. Your anxiety increased at an exponential rate when you saw how many more shifts you had over the course of the next two weeks and how much of your research time was being eaten up by just sitting. There wasn’t anything you could do about it - he was your superior officer and had given you an order. Maybe you could get reading done, or maybe Sabo would be transferred soon. Either one would help you out.

The next day you hurried into the cell room a few minutes late and relieved your fellow Ensign. You had been working through some genetic sequencing, thinking you might have made a breakthrough, and you lost track of the time. You grabbed whatever you’d had at the top of your “to read” pile and made a run for the detention center. You threw it down on the bench, sat down and took a deep breath. You didn’t even have time to grab a coffee, which would be a drag for the next few hours. You looked into the cell and saw Sabo already sitting in front of the bars, waving and smiling.

“Good morning, Mag!” Sabo said cheerfully. You weren’t sure what he could be so cheerful about, he had a black eye and a split lip. He may have had more damage but his now ripped clothes covered most of his body. You furrowed your brow slightly and walked up to the cell bars, mouth dipping into a frown. Marines weren’t supposed to rough up prisoners who had already been processed and interrogated. Sure, it happened, but it wasn’t supposed to. You had a good guess who did it - but nothing would come of it even if you reported it. It would be Sabo’s word against a Marine’s and wouldn’t even make it to an official report.

“Are you OK?” you asked in a low voice, grabbing the bars and peering closer at him.

“Hm? What? Why?” Sabo asked in confusion. “Oh, the bruises? It’s nothing.” He shrugged and you noticed something was off about his shoulder. You’d seen it before with your sister.

“Is your shoulder dislocated?” It was impressive he wasn’t screaming in pain. He didn’t even seem to care.

“Oh, yes, I suppose. I tried popping it back in but the cuffs keep my hands at such an angle that I can’t.” He shrugged again.

You felt angry that he’d been hurt while unable to fight back. When you’d joined the Marines, you were naive and thought that you’d be helping people alongside other like minded individuals. Instead you’d found that people were the same everywhere - small minded and working to meet their own ends, not the greater good. Sabo had been pleasant enough to speak to and was obviously intelligent. You hadn’t hated the shift which was more than you could say about most prisoners you’d watched. You stood at the bars for a moment and made a choice.

“I’m sorry that happened. I’m gonna pop your shoulder back in.” You turned to walk over to the opposite wall where the keys to the cell hung. Your hands were shaking slightly.

“Why?” Sabo said in disbelief. You grabbed the keys and turned around, perplexed.

“It will feel better? I mean, prisoners shouldn’t be treated like this,” you said, gesturing vaguely to him.

“Even violent prisoners like me?” Sabo questioned.

“Yes, even violent prisoners like you.” You were second guessing yourself now that he had mentioned his violent nature. You’d looked up his bounty out of curiosity - it was over 600 million Beri. You didn’t get a bounty that high by picking endangered flowers.

“That's a very liberal opinion, I’m not sure it fits with the general attitude of the Marines.” You hummed and got closer to the cell bars.

“Do you promise not to hurt me if I come in? I don’t have a gun but I’m a devil fruit user so don’t mess with me.” You felt foolish even saying the words. You knew this was a bad idea but you couldn’t stand the thought of his shoulder being out of place and no way to fix it. You remembered from your sister often crying from the pain and couldn't bear the thought of Sabo feeling the same. He didn’t need to know your devil fruit wouldn’t help you in a fight against him. Sabo nodded slowly and with conviction.

“I would never hurt you,” he said huskily. Strangely, you believed him. You took a deep breath, held it for five seconds, and exhaled.

“Ok, I’m coming in.” You unlocked the door and quickly entered. You wanted this over with as soon as possible and to put distance between you and the Flame Emperor once more. Sabo watched you with curiosity but didn’t get up or move in any way. Your hands were shaking so much you laced your fingers together.

You walked towards him slowly, like you would towards a wild animal. You knelt by his sitting form and took stock of his injuries. He had obviously been beaten, you could now see bruises poking out from underneath his shirt. He was well muscled, if a little thin. They probably weren’t feeding him as much as he needed. You looked into his now black eye, and saw amusement in his gaze, like this was a silly game to him.

“I’m going to touch your shoulder now, ok? I want to feel the dislocation before I move it.” you said before you made any movement towards him. Sabo nodded silently and continued watching. You gently put your hands on his shoulder and carefully prodded different areas to figure out what needed to be done. His suit hid his muscled frame well, you could feel his corded muscles flex under your light touch. He was much warmer than you thought he’d be, but maybe it was just due to the heat in the room. Sabo didn’t move at all, didn’t make any indication he was in pain, just let you work. Once you’d figured out the angle, you were ready to manipulate.

“I’m going to pop it back in now. Try not to move,” you told him. You stood on your knees so you were angled perpendicular to his body and braced your hands on either side of his shoulder.

“3…2…” where you would have said one you moved his shoulder back into its socket. Sabo made no sounds or movement, but rolled it a little forwards and backwards afterwards.

“Is it back in? Does it feel better?” You hoped you did it right the first time, you hadn’t done it in a while. You were still on your knees near him in case you needed to do it again.

“It feels wonderful, thank you so much Mag.” Sabo said gratefully, turning to face you. He was only a foot or so away, so near you could count his eyelashes. It was at this moment you realized how close he was to you, how easily he could overpower you, and how stupid you had been to come into his cell. You scrambled up and left the cell as quickly as you could, locking him back within it. Hanging the key again, you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You sat back down on your bench, mentally berating yourself for being so foolish.

“How did you do that so gently? When my brother used to do it for me it always felt worse than when it got dislocated.” Sabo was still rolling his shoulder, trying to stretch it out.

“Oh, ah, one of my sisters has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome so I’ve been putting joints back in sockets for years. It can be tricky but it’s a skill like any other.” You picked up your work to start to read.

“I appreciate your kindness, Mag. I assure you it won’t be forgotten.” Sabo spoke with determination and sincerity. You didn’t really know how to take his declaration - it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“Well, how about this? If Revolutionaries attack the base in the future, promise to kill me last,” you said with a wry smile. You were feeling better about Sabo. He had the chance to injure you - or even kill you - and escape but instead he sat with docility and allowed you to touch him. Maybe you could actually talk to him about your interests, he’d seemed interested yesterday.

“Ah! You’ve finally smiled at me! And all it took was one dislocated shoulder. A small price to pay,” Sabo beamed at you, showcasing a dimple in his cheek. You rolled your eyes but felt your face heating a little. It really wasn’t fair how good looking he was. When he smiled he looked like an angel come to earth, sweet and kind.

“Yeah yeah. Now, I have to get back to work.” You waved him off and cracked open your book. You’d started it before, but hadn’t gotten far. Sabo stood up and leaned against the bars of his cell.

“So what gene are you looking for?” Sabo asked. You looked up with a start. You hadn’t said anything to him about your work.

“How do you know that’s what I’m doing?” you said in a rush.

“Well, first of all you just confirmed it. You’re not a good liar.” He stated while pointing at you. You could kick yourself for your immediate response. Sabo wasn’t making fun of you, just stating facts. He was right, you couldn’t lie at all. Your hands started to shake again.

“Yesterday you were reading about sensitive molecular diagnostics and today you’re reading about non linear sequence inspection. So it stands to reason that you’re looking for some gene. Which one?” You were shocked he had put that all together - you didn’t think there was anyone within 1,000 kilometers who could do the same. You had been underestimating his intelligence.

“Um, I can’t tell you. It’s part of my research.”

“Fair enough,” Sabo said with a sigh. You felt better that he was dropping the conversation. Not that you could tell him anyway, but it would be annoying to have to ignore him if he persisted. Sabo was quiet for a moment before asking another question.

“Will you share with me your devil fruit power then?” Oh, right. You’d revealed you were a devil fruit user. How many dumb mistakes can you make in one day? It wasn’t classified or anything, you just preferred not to talk about it. Maybe it would take his mind off your research. You shut the book and put it aside.

“I ate the Mag-Mag fruit. It allows me to magnify things.” You waited for him to tell you that it was useless. At least, that was the opinion of everyone on the base.

“Is that why they call you Mag? How unoriginal,” he scoffed, adjusting his leather gloves. You laughed lightly.

“Yeah, I don’t care for the name either. But it’s been with me for a few years now, so I think I’m stuck with it.”

“I can call you something else if you’d like,” Sabo supplied silkily.

“Um, like what?” you said. You were fairly sure he was flirting with you.

“How about darling?” he suggested in a throaty tone, watching your face.

“I don’t think - I’m not -” You looked away as your face heated, you didn’t like the turn this conversation was taking.

“I meant nothing by it, I apologize,” he said smiling at you again. You didn’t answer, just looked out the window. You knew you weren’t the most attractive person in the world, he didn’t need to remind you. You had a lot of self confidence around your intelligence and general self worth but almost none around your physical body. People only wanted you when there were no other options or when drunk. No one had ever expressed interest in you romantically and you couldn’t imagine this incredible looking man would want you either. He was out of your league, criminal or not, and both of you knew it. He was just bored and playing with you for fun.

In a quiet voice, you chided, “that’s not nice. Don’t say things you don’t mean.” Sabo looked at you with an indecipherable look on his face. He adjusted his leather gloves once again as you avoided looking at him.

“What can you do with your fruit? I imagine it’s a powerful tool.” You glanced at him and sighed. It wasn’t fair for you to take out your frustration on him. He hadn’t really said anything terrible. You had heard much worse in this room before and hadn’t taken offense before. You just had to remind yourself that Sabo wasn’t your friend, wasn’t your peer, wasn’t anything but a prisoner who’d be taken to Impel Down soon.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out at you. I’ve been stressed lately, but that’s no excuse. It’s easier if I show you how it works rather than tell you. Look out the window, you see those buildings out there? On the far side of the island? Watch.”

You made a rectangle with your index fingers and thumbs and brought them apart, framing the buildings in the middle. You took your index and thumb and put them on the buildings and spread your fingers apart. The rectangle that you’d framed earlier now contained a zoomed in image of the buildings, which could now be identified as houses. You repeated the gesture, bringing your index finger and thumb apart again and now you were zoomed in enough to see the curtains hanging in the window of the farthest house.

“I can magnify anything I frame with my fingers. It can be useful for research.” You’d eaten the fruit when you were a young teen and it had shaped the rest of your life, sharpening your interest in science and leading you to your current career.

“That is an incredible power! What is the maximum magnification you can achieve? How long can you hold it?” Sabo was enthusiastic, watching the houses intently. It was refreshing to have someone interested in your power.

“I have gotten to the sub-atomic level before, but that’s not usually necessary. The higher the magnification, the more power it takes for me to hold it. Something like this,” you said, gesturing to the houses, “I could easily hold for hours. But looking at molecules like DNA takes a lot out of me, especially if I have to zoom in and out frequently.” Sabo nodded his head fervently.

“I see. Thus leading to some of your exhaustion.” You didn't think he'd bring that up again. You didn’t answer, just erased the magnification rectangle by flicking your hand through it.

“You’ll join me in the Revolutionary Army,” Sabo declared happily, clapping his hands together. You turned to face him and laughed. Was Sabo funny?

“Are you trying to recruit me? From your jail cell?” You chuckled again.

“No, no. Of course not. I’m not recruiting you, I’m telling you. You’ll be joining me.” Sabo said definitively, smiling ear to ear. You smiled back and exhaled sharply through your nose. What a silly notion.

“Naturally,” you replied, “let me know when you get out of Impel Down, and we can go together.” As if any of that would ever happen. You looked at the clock - your shift was over. It had gone faster than you thought it would, you’d had an interesting time with Sabo. As your colleague relieved you, you realized you were looking forward to your next shift.

#revolutionary sabo #sabo x reader #sabo x you #yandere sabo #op x y/n #marines one piece #yandere one piece #tw yandere

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katerinaaqu · 6 days ago

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Anaxibia sister to Agamemnon and Menelaus (some thoughts)

So...in terms of Oresteia we know that Pylades and Orestes are cousins technically. Pylades is also betrothed and later married to Orestes's sister Electra.

His father Strophius of Phocis was married according to that line to Agamemnon's and Menelaus's sister Anaxibia (Altrnatives of her name are Astyoche and Cydragora) that she has different parentage depending on the myths and the versions but I think I am in favor of the classic aka daughter of Atreus and the Cretan princess Aerope.

And now I wonder how was Anaxibia spared the family drama! Like how was she escaped from the whole coup of Aegisthus! Makes me wonder;

Did the brothers carry Anaxibia with them to Sparta for safety and THEN organize her betrothal to Strophius?

Did she live with them in exile for a little while and then catch the eye of Strophius somehow thus leading to the brothers see also the possibility of a possible ally and marry their sister to him?

Did, perhaps Agamemnon (or even Menelaus too) see the danger and betroth her to Strophius BEFORE the disaster? Thus Anaxibia being spared the exile?

Honestly all possibilities seem so great and honestly make one think! Of course judging how Orestes was born BEFORE Pylades one can expect that Anaxibia was married to Strophius AFTER Agamemnon and Menelaus settled down in their own kingdoms and potentially had their families which could mean how much greater responsibility the two brothers bore in their exile; not only had they take care of each other but also of their sister.

And to Agamemnon apologists such as myself or @likethexan seems even more admirable what responsibility Agamemnon possibly had. Quite possibly of course maybe Anaxibia was indeed sent to Phocis before the whole coup erupted it is just that the wedding potentially happened later after both brothers gained some of their political power back to negotiate a suitable marriage with the king of Phocis.

Of course that begs the question as to why didn't the brothers flee to Phocis instead of Sparta? Surely if their sister was there (married or not) she could potentially offer some help or influence. Well I should say one by looking at the map should say that the first difficulty was the distance:

If we assume that Anaxibia was taken out of harm's way on time but the brothers had literally to run for their lives, they probably ran towards the direction of the south where they would only need to use one mean of transport (cart, horse etc) instead of going to the other side of Peloponnese AND needing to get a ship as well to cross the sea to get to Phocis and they would probably need to get through the mountains again to get to their sister (because the road through Attica and Boetia would take them forever).

But is also a political move.

Agamemnon was not stupid. He probably knew the political power of Tyndareus as well as the riches and army of Sparta might have been superior to Phocis at that time. What is more Tyndareus just like the two of them, was once upon a time exiled with his brother Icarius and restored to the throne so Agamemnon was almost certain that Tyndareus would be more open to the idea to help them be restored in power. Not to mention that Sparta was closer related to Mycenae by geography alone.

So it seems that Agamemnon took the right decision to flee to the south and towards Sparta rather than to the north and towards Phocis

But of course the scenario in which the resided in Sparta with their sister for a little while before sending her to Phocis is always on the table or even that Anaxibia was left behind in Mycenae to be used as a hostage or something similar thus increasing the urge of Agamemnon to come and get her. Although I do not support the latter mainly that knowing the strong family bonds of the Atreides I find it difficult to imagine both brothers would leave their sister behind suffer the consequences of the coup. Especially given how the Atreides spent years to the care of the Spartan king so that doesn’t seem to be pointing towards the urgency of the two struggling to get their sister back and all which is another reason I do not support it but that is also on the table I suppose 🤔

Also we do not know how old Anaxibia was when the brothers had to flee. Maybe she was very young too. Maybe she had to be taken away so that the brothers wouldn't risk for her to be used against them or killed. Makes me imagine she would be barely enough of age to be married at that time (which is why I side more with the idea of her being sent away or carried with them to Sparta) but yeah these are some random thoughts from top of my head.

What do you guys think?

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izzabela · 7 months ago

Note

Ok, here me out! We both love Tomas (sweet cinnamon roll) I was thinking about what would happen if Tomas and the female reader get into an argument and it caused them to distance each other for a bit and it causing the reader to go on a mission for Liu Kang and while the reader is gone longer than planned Tomas starts to worry and lose his patience and decides to go after her?

I'm Sorry - Tomas x fem!reader

in which you and Tomas get into an argument before your mission, and Tomas is a bit antsy to apologize

a/n: Tomas would def be the little brother who always apologizes, whether his fault or not

ship[s]: tomas x fem!reader

warning(s): little angst? pre-kanon story (see what i did there)

get yo ass up, white boy

=====================

The air between you and Tomas could light an explosion if one was not careful.

Though you were not present, away on another mission by Liu Kang, it was clear that the remnants of that strife still followed the European assassin.

He gave harsher punishments to the initiates under his care, prolonged training hours, and he even punished his own losses with starvation and excessive workouts.

It worried his brothers, though it was not evident on their faces. Watching their youngest do this to himself was something that... terrified them to say the least. Ironic, since they were formidable ninjas.

It would all resolve itself, though, since you would be coming back today. Though, the memory of that fight laid in everyone's head.

*********

"Do you not realize how insane you're being right now?" Tomas howled at you as you sat on your shared bed, head turned and arms crossed.

Tomas roughly shut the door of your guys' bedroom, but his brothers were in hot pursuit to make sure nothing would go wrong once you had woken up from the healers.

Their mistake.

"Insane is not finishing the job," you spat back, turning your head. "Was I to come back empty-handed? Disappoint my grandmaster, our lord, our mission?!"

It was a rough mission, but you got some valuable info on a threat against Earthrealm thanks to your superior skills. Though, those very same skills did not protect you from the serious bodily harm you endured. Cut up and battered, you returned home like an abused animal.

"Not when you return home looking as you are now," Tomas pointed out, "You've been blinded to finishing the job, to the point of neglecting your own health!"

You scoffed, "Says you! You can go get healed without a word from me. But when I have to go get it done, it's like I've committed treason!"

From the outside, Kuai Liang and Bi Han gave a point to you for that one. However, Tomas was more experienced, and you had only recently been getting sent on more dangerous and high-stakes missions. Tomas had been doing this for years.

"If you had trained more, you would not be in this position," Tomas sighed. "Perhaps it was my fault for putting your name in too early."

You jaw dropped at this.

"Don't you dare pull this on me, Tomas," you said low as you get out of bed. Sure, your legs and wounds ached, but the adrenaline of your anger was fueling you to heights unknown.

"I'll have you know-"

"Mind your place," Tomas commanded, voice dripping with authority.

Tomas may be a brother to Kuai Liang and Bi Han, a technical inheritor to his clan, but he never felt like it. He often humbled himself by refraining from using any sort of authoritative tone, especially since he began dating you. Yes, he may be kind to his friends, his brothers, you, but he was still second-in-command along side Kuai Liang.

Of course there were times he needed to use his voice- but now wasn't the smartest time.

When Tomas realized what he had done, it was within a blink of an eye that a mean left-hook took him in, and a deadly powerful palm push sent him flying through the door. Tank the elder gods Kuai Liang and Bi Han remained on the side.

"Do not even bother coming back in here," you hissed, water swirling in your eyes as you turned around to go to sleep.

*********

That was but a week ago, now Liu Kang, Kuai Liang, Bi Han, and Tomas wait at the fire temple for you to come through the portal after your mission.

While his brother's remained calm and still-faced, Tomas was a little more antsy and nervous. You had left during your fight, and without proper apologies being made (not saying you did anything wrong). Tomas wanted to fix it immediately, and that would begin as soon as you came through the portal.

Right... now!

As the fires that lit the portal up continued to crackle and burn, any sign of your presence was not found. Liu Kang, focusing all his energy into finding you, could not sense you either.

Strange, since you were very punctual for any of your missions. It was a trademark that earned you the nickname "Dead-line" from the other ninjas.

"She is late," Kuai Liang points the obvious out.

"She must have had a run-in with something, perhaps we should-" Tomas is cut off by Bi Han.

"Under no circumstances will you do such a thing, Tomas. She is capable of this, so she is capable of coming home."

Liu Kang agrees, "I will keep the portal open and watch for her. While punctual is a great aspect, not everyone is immune to a little tardiness."

The brothers bow before heading out, Bi Han and Kuai Liang walking a little behind to watch Tomas. How did they know he was nervous? Well, he walked right in front of them, forgetting the order in which they travelled. And his eyes were also downcast, like clouds blocking the sun.

As well-trained as he is, emotions were naturally human. So, naturally, Tomas couldn't hide these feelings no matter his skills and experience.

"Tomas, all will be well," Kuai Liang tries to soothe his anxiety. He turns around, nodding to his words, but his face looks as if he is not accepting it.

"You will see to it you keep yourself in check," Bi Han scolds, "All will be well, carry on as per usual."

Tomas rolls his eyes as Bi Han strides forward. Kuai Liang just puts a hand on his shoulder and offers a kind smile.

"He means well, let us carry on for her," Kuai says, patting his shoulder before walking to follow his elder brother.

Perhaps tomorrow Tomas thinks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Except tomorrow you don't come, nor the day next, nor the day after.

You were tardy by three days, and as much as Tomas buried himself in training, missions, and some paperwork, he couldn't shake the feeling off that something was wrong- horribly wrong.

So, after dinner with his brothers, he waited until everyone was asleep before sneaking out of the palace to the Fire Temple. Mask and attire on, he calls on a portal to be opened to the temple.

Walking through, he is greeted by Liu Kang and some monks on guard. He bows, and Liu Kang does so to reciprocate, though is skeptical on the smoke ninja's unprecedented appearance.

"Tomas, this is unexpected," Liu Kang notes as he sizes him up.

"Lord Liu Kang, please permit me to go (y/n)," he says, bowing again to further his desperation in finding you. Liu Kang chuckles, telling him to raise his head.

"You love her very deeply, that much is evident," Liu Kang said, pulling out a chi-director from his pocket.

Tomas stares at the device, back at Lord Liu Kang, and then back at the device. He takes the glowing blue compass and bows deeply, revering him in respect before fire pops and cracks, and the portal opens. Tomas runs through the portal and allows the compass to guide him.

As he takes his surroundings in, Tomas realizes he's in the hinterlands of Outworld, and a cold part of Outworld at that. Of course, he was trained to deal with such weather, but being out for this far for this long, you may be on the brink of your doom.

The compass glows in Tomas's hands, and the hand inside spins like a twister gone rogue. Finally, it focuses on a direction southeast, and Tomas trudges in the growing snow of the region.

After following the compass, he was led to a cave in the side of a mountain. Inside, he saw the faint glow of a fire and heard low breathing from within.

As he rounds the inside, he finds you tending to a gash on your shoulder. You have plants with healing qualities by your side and a cloth loosely pulled over the bleeding. Plus your magic was working over the open wound.

"Who goes- Tomas?" your hands were in defensive positions, but they went back to your wound at him in your sight.

"My darling," he sighs, running to your side as he tries to stop the bleeding.

You wince at the force in which he pressed a ripped cloth into your shoulder, but welcome it as your magic was dulling the pain.

"Fancy seeing you here," you say with a sarcastic tone.

"Dear, please," Tomas lightly scolds you, in which you silently allow him to treat you.

It's quiet between both of you, and the only thing to fill the void of quiet was howling of the wind outside.

Tomas begins to stretch the cloth out in little strings, to make a makeshift bandage for your wound. He's staring at your back, and your head is turned to the side as he tends to the horrid wound.

"Usually you aren't this late," he tries to lighten the mood, but it's clear you're not up to the jokes.

Once Tomas wraps your wound perfectly, he moves around to face you, but your head remains away.

Instead of speaking, Tomas wraps you in the warmest, gentlest hug, and your eyes are shining with tears are you inhale his natural musk.

"Thank the elder gods you're alright."

Your shoulders rack in his chest as you cry and wrap a singular arm around him.

"I'm so sorry," you sob as tears begin flow, "I'm so sorry for being so mean, sorry for being so brash, you're rig-."

Tomas shushes you, one hand rubbing your head and the other your back in up and down motions. You cry harder at his tenderness- why wasn't he angry? Why was he so nice?

You literally chucked him out of the bedroom, and he remains kind to you?

"I don't care about that anymore," he whispers. "The minute you didn't come through the portal that day, everything else fell away."

Oh, that's right.

If it weren't for a rogue blade from the enemy, you'd have gotten home earlier.

You wince as the adrenaline begins to wear off, and the pain in your shoulder finally begins to settle in.

Tomas notices, and he chuckles as he sets you down against the wall softly.

"At least you won't be chucking me through doors anytime soon," he laughs as he begins to clean the wound up a bit.

You flinch at the pain, but push through so Tomas can make sure it doesn't get infected.

"I'm sorry, dear," you begin again. "Truly, I'm so sorry for doing that to you all those weeks ago."

Tomas shakes his head as he rubs some healing plants on the wound, "I want to apologize. Using my tone against you like that, especially after such an experience. It was uncalled for, dishonorable for a man."

He wraps the wound up again, holds a hand out to you, and picks you up after you take it.

"Let's get you home, dear," Tomas says as he sweeps you off your feet.

In his arms, you finally collapse and give your eyes a rest from the crying.

The real talk can happen later, you just need Tomas for now.

=====================

no yap notes

see y'all in the next fic!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mk1 2023 #tomas vrbada #smoke #x reader #smoke x reader #smoke x you #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada x you #tomas x you #tomas x reader

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uss-edsall · 3 months ago

Text

On 9 November, 1942, flying off the coast of Casablanca, French Morrocco in support of the Operation TORCH landings, the Piper Cub (under the name L-4 Grasshopper) made her official combat debut in the Second World War. This once-civilian plane had been bought by the U.S. Army to function as "air observation posts," flown by pilots in the U.S. Army Field Artillery, attached directly to battalions. Her concept, proven in training maneuvers, was as aerial reconnaissance; aerial photography; single-person transport; air ambulance; and in particular, reconnaissance and artillery observation. She would prove to be perfect for all of these roles. She would go on to have an incredible record during the Second World War, one of the best planes built for her particular role, with over six thousand of them bought by the U.S. Army. She was small, she could handle landing tiny fields, she was stealthy, she was dead simple to repair and reliable in the air.

But on that day? For that mission? There were only three Grasshoppers, and it was an absolute disaster.

The three planes were attached to the 3rd Infantry Division. Their pilots were hurriedly brought to USS Ranger (CV-4), aboard which were three L-4 Grasshoppers in bad condition. All their efforts were getting the planes ready for flight. What the pilots did not know was that their commanders, from colonels to generals alike, did not prepare properly for their debut.

On 8 November American troops stormed ashore at Safi, Casablanca and Point Lyautey. The next day, Ranger turned into the wind, the pilots got aboard the planes. In the 35-knot wind the instant the ship's crew let go of their tails, the planes hopped off the deck and were in the air, sixty miles from shore.

Three miles from the beach, the allied invasion force appeared. Transports, destroyers, the light cruiser USS Brooklyn. Aboard the Brooklyn alert officers and anti-air gun crews spotted the L-4 Grasshoppers.

There was nothing in the allied aviation recognition books that resembled the L-4 Grasshopper. None of the artillery pilots' superiors had properly distributed warnings that the Army had procured the civilian planes, and were using them for the first time.

The Brooklyn's anti-air weaponry opened up. 5" shells, 40mm bofors, 20mm Oerlikons reached out to lick at the Grasshoppers. In the first flak burst the quartet of little planes scattered, diving for the deck. Captain Ford Allcorn leveled off at twenty feet and started juking like mad, gamely going for the beach leading his flight. Every other ship, seeing the Brooklyn open up on the unfamiliar planes, joined in.

The artillery pilots had not the fuel to return to the ship, even if they'd been trained in carrier landings, which they weren't. Land was their only option for salvation. Shellfire blew out Allcorn's windshield, shot off one of the doors. As the Grasshoppers juked and weaved, bullets splashed into the water all around them. A hundred feet from shore, they levelled off and gunned their throttles to the maximum - 80 mph - for the safety of the shoreline.

At which point the pintle mount machineguns on tanks ashore opened fire on them. For nobody had told the Army troops of the 2nd Armored Division either about the Piper Cubs, and seeing the Navy so enthusiastically shooting at them, they joined in. .50-calibre bullets ripped into the Grasshoppers, betrayed by their own.

Captain Allcorn's engine cut out after several tanks' machineguns stitched bullets across the frame, and five bullets tore into his leg.

The wounded planes got to the shoreline. They flew over the armor, guns straining to shoot at them, desperately trying to get to the safety of the Fedala Racetrack, where they were supposed to go. Allcorn spotted a relatively flat area and pancaked in, crawling out of the mortally wounded flaming bird before the fuel exploded.

And then the Vichy French opened up.

Lieutenants Butler, Shell, and Captain Devol (one L-4 having carried two of them) were taken prisoner after crash landing behind Vichy French lines, but were released when the French in Casablanca surrendered two days later on 11 November.

Amazingly, despite all this, nobody had been killed.

Captain Allcorn was the first Army aviator in the ETO to fly off a carrier, the first in combat, and the dubious distinction of the first to be shot down and the first to be wounded. Captain Allcorn, from his hospital bed back in the States, wrote a report about it all that even reached the Chief of Staff General Marshall's desk. He argued that this disastrous beginning was not the death knell of the Grasshopper. He concluded, perhaps rather dryly, that there was seemingly a failure to communicate between the Army and the Navy. His report helped the Piper Cub / L-4 Grasshopper survive the event, to go on to become one of the most produced aircraft of the war, and most widely used.

Even today, almost four thousand of the nearly twenty thousand Piper Cubs built are still in the FAA registry.

#World War II

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paragonrobits · 9 months ago

Text

So one fandom trope I've never liked at all for reasons that in this case aren't related to shipping is 'Katara marries into the Fire Nation royal family and becomes a badass fire lady', and there's a lot of reasons why

the glamorizing of dynasty power, the mischaracterization of Katara as someone who would WANT that, no one ever suggesting that Zuko (in this ship) ever surrender all political power to live the rest of his life in a happier life in the South Pole, the way a LOT of writers who fixate on this trope have a very strong pro-Fire Nation stance that becomes outright apologism, there's many reasons to dislike it. And due to the nature of fan content, it can be difficult to find ways to point out its flaws, and I abruptly realized a pretty solid one.

One common element of this trope is the idea of the Fire Nation loving and revering Katara as the most powerful and cool Fire Lady EVER. Besides the fact that there's no canonical indication that being Fire Lady grants you any power (given that very few of any historical Fire Lord's wives have been named at all in canon, let alone shown to accomplish anything, this is very unlikely), there's plenty to criticize in the common people of a conquering nation respecting a woman from a nation they explicitly regard as inferior to them.

This brings us to The Painted Lady. This is an important episode for Katara, and I think fully establishes the compassion and heroic will at the heart of her character. Her statement of "I will never turn my back on the people who need me!" even if they are her enemies, is a core one for her character. However, this episode also gives us a good example of how the average Fire Nation citizen responds to her, a woman of the Southern Water Tribe and a waterbender, being a hero to them and in a position of power to them.

Namely, they immediately turn on her.

Even after Katara and Aang sabotage the nearby factory polluting their river and slowly killing them (and likely weakening the local spirit, the Painted Lady herself), while they become friendlier, the best they manage is "you're not so bad, for a waterbender" which reads a LOT as a bowlderized shorthand for saying she's not so bad for a Water Tribe woman; this is a deeply loaded remark and indicates that even though she's done nothing but help them, they're still biased against her in a way that sounds about expected for a supremacist nation that views itself as superior to the people it conquers.

And this is just a humble fishing village; imagine how much worse it gets in centers of military power and presence.

So needless to say, I think that this episode does indicate how the Fire Nation would feel about it overall, and 'making her life constant misery and filled with micro aggressions and outright racism' would probably be the absolute most minimum thing you could realistically expect.

#atla #katara #the painted lady #anti fire lady katara #queued

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moodymisty · 11 months ago

Text

Author's Note: Inspired by this post. You can blame all of the unhinged horniness there for this unhinged horniness. Someone there put the idea down as space wolves or Luna wolves and I chose Luna wolves because @bispecsual gave me the brain rot. And since I'm a massive masochist, I write.

Relationships: Like five unnamed Luna Wolves/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Vaguely NSFW, Very hornily charged bullying, Astartes are very curious and grabby, Demeaning speech, Just imagine you're that one girl on the couch in the meme surrounded by massive dudes but those dudes are 8 foot tall genetic abominations, Gangbang implications(?) my warning tags are getting weird as fuck

To the Luna Wolves, serfs are a new idea- a curiosity.

But after their good deeds upon a planet of little known renown and placement in the galaxy, a few of their population offered to serve them.

Before them, most serfs were primarily stationed on Terra, and on Luna Wolves ships instead those roles were given to low ranking tech priests, or penal labor. Even then however the Astartes saw them rarely, until now.

Some of the newly conquered planet offered sons as aspirants, of which they eagerly accepted. The Luna Wolves have been eager to grow their numbers now under Horus’ leadership.

Others, older and ablebodied, offered themselves to serve as serfs.

Many Luna Wolves can't remember the last time they've seen a normal human for more than a few moments, ushering them to safely into a Stormbird or pushing them from a firefight. Or seeing their corpse flung on the far reaches of a battlefield, out of sight and mind.

In their brief periods of reprieve from battle, it's now been a struggle for their captains and lieutenants to keep their men on task, now that serfs scurry around them completing various tasks. Particularly for the youngest marines among them, it's been a constant to stop them from reaching towards the serfs, interrupting their sanctioned duties.

They will get to you once finished with your brothers, is what the current quartermaster on duty or Astartes captain says. Though haste to have their armor cleaned or bolter clips loaded isn't the thing on their mind, but instead an almost dog-like curiosity.

But after their superiors leave, they always end up crowding around you again. These astartes have barely seen baseline humans in decades, let alone a woman.

It's suffocating.

You were nothing on your home planet. Insignificant. You’d hoped joining them would bring you purpose, something to be proud of. And to get off the planet that had you feeling so trapped. And while you got your wish, in a way the thing trapping you had merely changed form.

They have you cornered in the armoring room now; Like Wolves. You went from trapped on that no name planet to trapped by five different astartes. Your palms feel hot and sweaty, but not as hot as your face.

“You’re so small, you’re going to get lost on the ship,” One says.

He grabs for your chin and holds it for a moment, forcing you to look into his grey eyes. they're stoic, but you can see he's enjoying something about this. Though he allows you to shrink away and out of his grip, looking downward at their chest armor. Or anywhere else that isn't their faces.

“Or trampled,” Says another. The one who spoke previous gives him a sour look before passively aggressively replying.

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

One who hasn't spoken yet has his top armor removed, his lower half unpowered. He was training, using it as dead weight. Training concluded blood now drips down from his nose and lips but is mostly dried, partly covered healing bruises. If he looks like this, you can't help but wonder how his opponent looks.

It’s distracting.

You don’t know if it’s some sort of illness or insanity from being locked in this ship for so long; It makes him look more attractive. You hope to whatever deity or god or whatever exists out in the stars that he doesn't notice you’re staring. That he doesn't notice the way your heart is pounding in your chest and what feels like your cunt as well.

He does. As do the others. You can't kid yourself and think that with their hearing and smell that they haven't noticed that you're boiling alive, and that your body is screaming fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me-

“He won. Out of one hundred men.”

Your gut twists and the marine behind you laughs quietly. It's deep, enough so that you swear you can feel it in your chest. You would squeeze your thighs together for some relief, but you don’t think you can without stumbling over.

“She likes the winners. Looks like you’re out.” He gestures to a fellow marine that gives him another sour look. You briefly wonder what he lost at to deserve such a jab.

“I should return to my duties,”

You meekly say, hoping to remove yourself from the embarrassment and scurry away to another quarter of the ship.

One of them blocks your path and traps you from leaving, picking you up by the armpits and holding you before putting you back down between them all. It's like you weigh nothing to them, and that they can simply jostle and swing you around like a toy.

“I’ll tell your quartermaster you were helping us.” He jerks his head in the direction of a marine clad in only the casual clothing they wear out of their ceramite. Now the focus of your attention he rolls his shoulder, and you can see the muscles of his neck and around his collarbone flex.

You swallow a knot in your throat that felt like it was going to choke you. Your hands clench tight, nails sharp against your palms. You're going to have a heart attack, you swear it. Tears well in your eyes but they don't break your waterline just yet, from sheer will alone. If any of them say another word, call you cute, small, soft, that you smell so sweet, you swear they’ll roll down your cheeks like a waterfall.

“He wants you to put on his armor. The others are always so rough, you’re so gentle with those little hands.”

The marine reaches for you, and in your back step you stumble and accidentally bump into the one who hasn't spoken at all; Just watching and sitting. You stumble over his massive armored boot and end up falling into a sit on his thigh, legs parted over it. His massive armored hand comes to grip your waist, to keep you from falling over. It covers a good portion of your stomach in the process.

You’re so tightly wound just the simple pressure alone is enough to have you clamp a hand your mouth to avoid letting out a moan that would kill you right then and there, if you weren’t already dead. Your knees quiver, toes just barely touching the ground. His massive height makes it impossible to fully stand with his thigh between your legs.

You know they can smell the way you’re leaking and staining your underwear, hear the way your heart is racing like it's going to explode. You’re half afraid you might make his ceramite thigh plate slick.

You can feel their eyes on you. They look at you like you’re food thrown to a pack of starving wolves.

One suddenly steps forward, and pushes his battle brother out of his way with a harsh slam of ceramite on ceramite before undoing the latch his belt.

“I go first.”

#Sevatar daddy bully me until I c- what who said that #space marine x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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jintaka-hane · 11 months ago

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Raisins

Masterlist

Img src

Notes: Benn Beckman x brat f!reader. This is a stupid idea - gift to my lovely @fanaticsnail, to give her some comfort and encouragement regarding the last glimpse into her life. Beckman isn't very good in the kitchen, but he does is best 💕 🚬 Word count: 800 Summary: When you're hungry, you're a grump. And it's even worse when they bring you things you don't like.

Ever since Lucky Roux had dislocated his shoulder, nobody cooked aboard the Red Force, and the red-haired pirates made do with whatever they could scrounge up from the galley to survive.

You found yourself in there, hungry and grumpy, scouring for a snack. Provisions were running low, and a group led by the ship's second-in-command had just returned from resupplying ashore.

As you rummaged through the pantry for something to munch on, Benn Beckman strode into the galley, a cigarette clamped between his lips as usual.

"Feelin’ a bit hungry, are we?" His muscular scarred arms flexed as he lifted the weighty shopping bags onto the table. Each one seemed to weigh a ton, but it didn't appear to trouble him.

"Yeah, and there's nothing here…"

“Don't worry, darlin', I've bought yer favorite cereal for breakfast."

Eagerly, you pounced on the shopping bags, seeking the prized cereal box. Your hands landed on a square cardboard container, which you swiftly pulled out. As you gazed at it, disappointment clouded your face... Cereal with raisins, the product name read.

You loathed raisins with every fiber of your being.

With a frustrated expression, you glanced at Beckman, unable to hide your annoyance.

"Seriously?! With raisins?!”

He snatched the box from your grasp and examined it.

"Guess I mistook these brown things for chocolate,” he said shrugging his shoulders and handing you the box again.

“I hate raisins, Beck!!" you shouted, throwing the cereal container onto the table.

“Come on, doll, I’m sure it doesn’t taste that bad," he was calm, his cigarette still in his lips and a wisp of smoke curling from it.

You huffed in response, aware that your reaction wasn't the greatest. But frankly, you detested raisins and the idea of having to eat that crap for the rest of the week infuriated you beyond measure. You couldn't hide it.

As he observed your spoiled reaction his own irritation threatened to mirror yours.

“Easy now, don’t be like that,” he tried to stay composed, “next time I’ll buy others”.

You didn't want to listen. You stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door shut without even saying goodbye.

"Spoiled girl…", he muttered angrily, shaking his head, “ungrateful brat…”.

You spent the rest of the day on deck, attending to some of your duties. Beckman was nowhere to be found, and you still felt yourself quite angry enough to seek him out and talk to him. Your reaction was somewhat irrational, but you couldn't avoid it.

Nonetheless, you felt a hint of sadness and guilt within you. After all, the first mate was your favorite person on the ship, and you never used to argue.

“Hey, do you know where Beck is?" asked one man.

"No clue," another replied.

"Last time I saw him, he was busy in the galley," you heard someone else say.

You remained occupied, tending to your tasks throughout the day. As your hunger intensified while working, you contemplated pilfering something from the pantry.

You made your way to the galley, a familiar scent of tobacco wafting through the crack of the partially closed door. You reached for the knob to push it, but halted abruptly upon hearing the voice of the vice captain muttering grumpily from inside.

“... don't know why the fuckin’ hell I bother ...”.

Your hand released the doorknob, and you decided not to enter; you weren't going to confront an angry superior. You turned on your heel and made your way back to your duties, resigned.

Three hours later, your stomach growled like a sea monster from the Grand Line.

"Screw it, I'm going to eat that crappy cereal".

You headed to the galley again, finding nobody there. You opened the pantry, grabbed the cereal, a spoon, and a bowl, and sat at the table with a sigh. Pouring the cereal into the bowl, you took a closer look at it and to your surprise, there were no raisins. They had been removed and replaced by meticulously sliced chocolate bits.

You rose immediately and made your way onto the deck in search of the first mate, the spoon still in your hand.

“Beckman!!!”

You saw him standing at the prow, his expression grave as he concentrated on securing a line with a sailor's knot.

“I’m right’ere”, he answered crankily.

Glancing at his hands, you noticed that his fingers were speckled with tiny flecks of chocolate.

"Did you remove all the raisins from the cereal?!"

“... aye,” he mumbled without looking at you.

"By hand?"

“... aye,” his focus was still on the rope.

"And chopped bits of chocolate for me?"

“That I did,” he replied, still avoiding your gaze.

You rushed towards him, leaping into his arms, causing him to drop the rope, which fell to the ground as he caught you. Enveloping him with your arms, you started giving him little kisses all over his face.

“Forgive me, I am sorry, I shouldn't have shouted at you”.

“... it's a’right,” he responded, slightly embarrassed and trying to conceal a smile.

“... And… thank…” you said, unable to stop pecking his cheeks, “… you”.

“... anytime, darlin',” he hugged you tightly against him.

From the bowcastle, a group of men were watching you.

“Beck!!" One of them shouted, laughing, "she got you wrapped around her finger, huh?”

Without letting go of your embrace, Beckman shifted his gaze towards them.

“GET BACK TO FUCKIN' WORK!!”

--------------

Taglist: @i-am-vita @gingernut1314

#jintaka stuff #benn beckman fiction #benn beckman wives army #benn beckman x female reader #benn beckman x reader #benn beckman #beckman x reader #one piece #gift for a moot

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bookshelfdreams · 2 years ago

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So the German dub is out and I would like to offer up to all of you how it deals with the problem of formal/informal form of address because it's really interesting

(Preface: all of this applies how we as modern people use these forms of address. In the actual 18th century, addressing any adult informally was very uncommon, even between close friends. But we're doing a DJenkins approach here)

(@rocketrouquine wrote about how it is handled in the French dub here; also very interesting!)

The thing to understand about formal vs informal you is that it's about politeness, yes - but that's just a very basic understanding. Yes, you are supposed to be formal with people you don't know, but what they don't teach you in highschool foreign language class are all the things choice of address can communicate. Namely, what distance there is between people. About the closeness of a relationship, what level you're interacting on, about signaling how far you will let a person into your life.

The crew of the Revenge all call each other Du (informal) - except for Stede, who everyone calls Sie (formal). Du is for friends and Stede is not their friend, he is the boss. There is a camaraderie and solidarity among the crew that Stede can't partake in. Sie, in this case, is like a barrier that you put up to keep someone from becoming too friendly with you and reminding them what kind of relationship this is (namely, a purely professional one).

This is underlined by the crew obviously and openly thinking Stede is an idiot - and by Stede calling everyone Du. Is it because he sees himself as a social superior who can address people informally but insists on formal address for himself? That's one way to read it! But more interesting and more accurate, in my opinion, is to read this as an attempt by Stede to make himself part of their ingroup. It's especially obvious when Stede invites Olu and Jim to sit with him on the couch in ep1; he's using Du while Olu very poignantly keeps insisting on Sie. It underlines how visibly uncomfortable Olu is sitting there trying to explain to Stede that people choose a life of crime out of necessity, while making Stede seem even more oblivious and out of place.

Interestingly, Stede uses Sie himself to put some professional distance between himself and someone else. Namely, with the tribe elder from ep2, who he addresses formally. Is this a sign of respect? Sure, he has a tendency to go for Sie by default. But it reminds me more of how one would be per Sie with a doctor or therapist; as a reminder that this is a strictly professional relationship. It's easier to be open and vulnerable with someone who you know isn't emotionally invested in your wellbeing, isn't it?

Stede comes from a background where one is expected to address everyone with Sie unless granted permission otherwise. This is a sign of respect, the same way lower class people on this show tend to use Du as sign of solidarity; on Nigel's ship, all the officers call each other Sie. So when Nigel uses Du with Stede, it adds a layer of disrespect, despite it being perfectly acceptable, since they have known each other as children. This is even more evident with Chauncey, who we see interact more with other pirates; when he wants something from someone (Izzy, Spanish Jackie) he calls them Sie, no problem, while Nigel's crew doesn't even make an attempt at showing some respect at the ep1 tea party.

And then there's Izzy. Izzy and Stede call each other every insult under the sun and also address each other formally the whole time, which is the funniest possible choice. Like. I'm not sure why "Sie Arschloch!" is 1000x more bitchy than "Du Arschloch!" but it just is. It's taking this whole game of distance and closeness to a whole new level; I despise you so much I would never entertain the notion of being friendly enough with you to use your first name. Sie Wichser. It's made even funnier by the fact that for Stede, Sie is much more intuitive than for Izzy. It seems like Izzy has to make a lot more of an effort to keep the Sie up, but he's not gonna be the one to break this particular stalemate first, goddammit.

Finally (because that's the really interesting bit, isn't it) Ed. Initially, in ep3, Stede calls Ed Sie, which, of course he would think to do that while he's laying there half dead and bleeding, I love him. Ed echoes this back, because he's determined to "do this right", make a good first impression, and I thought this would be it, they'd be per Sie until the kiss, like it often goes in media translated from English. Fine, I guess.

But then.

When Ed wakes Stede up, he immediately goes for Du. No warm up, no getting to know each other first at all. And it's great! First of all, because Ed of course is the type of person to just call everyone Du, but also because of what happens next: Stede calls him Du back. This is the first time this particular hand has been extended to him, and oh, is he excited to take it.

(Other people call Stede Du first, Spanish Jackie, the chief, but it's not like this; not an invitation)

Stede isn't meeting Blackbeard, he's meeting some guy named Ed. Someone he instantly makes friends with; someone who has already seen him at his worst and so, who he can be himself with. Someone he doesn't need to put up pretenses or worry about proper behaviour with. This scene would have lost so much had they decided to keep up the Sie.

Remember that camaraderie I talked about earlier? Solidarity among the crew that Stede tries but can't manage to share in? Here it is! Here is the guy who will play dress up with him, who will delight in his interests, who will be his friend.

Yes, sometimes an unprompted Du can be disrespectful. But sometimes it is like this: Hey. I see you. Want to be friends?

#i could have rambled on for hours this is SO INTERESTING to me and they made all the right choices #kudos. praise and kudos.#our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #thoughts #Unsere Flagge bedeutet den TOD 🏴‍☠️

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lucky-clover-gazette · 4 months ago

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kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 15

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Damen, who as a prince of the blood did not excel at wagon repairs, nodded knowledgeably,

love this slightly snarky oxymoronic moment from the narration. fake it til you make it!

‘Hey!’ Laurent called out. He was pulling himself up from the front wheel onto the wagon top. He had a swathe of yellow silk in his hand, and he stood on the wagon waving it colourfully at the squadron. ‘Hey you! Akielons!’

i think this entire bit is going to be so much funnier and rewarding after having done 2.5 books of intense analysis, which has made me essentially conclude that laurent and to a slightly lesser degree damen are a gifted and naturally-inclined improv comedy duo, even in the most dangerous and horrifying situations. horny despite the horrors? nah, “yes, and”-ing despite the horrors

It was too late to stop it. Too late to grab at Laurent’s ankle. The squadron had seen them. Brief visions of strangling Laurent weren’t helpful.

The officer in question was identifiable by his superior horse.

"superior horse"

‘You are merchants?’ ‘We are.’ ‘What name?’ said the officer. ‘Charls,’ said Damen, who was the only merchant he knew.

very thankful that they recycle the charls name from the inn but don’t bring up volo again. for reasons

‘You are Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant?’ said the officer sceptically, as if this was a name well known to him.

the absurdity here is perfectly escalated. of COURSE charls is well-known, they cannot catch a fucking break!!

also i just love the idea of these cultures essentially regarding merchants as celebrity figures. like is charls an influencer. he’s so popular that even people in the opposing nation have no choice but to stan

‘No,’ said Laurent, as if this was the most foolish thing in the world. ‘I am Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant. This is my assistant. Lamen.’

i like how laurent’s correction isn’t “of course he isn’t this public figure you know and like, neither of us are” in order to steer clear of having to prove their identities, but instead it’s ‘i’m the public figure you know and like, because i can actually sell this bit’

also admittedly some of the comedy in king’s rising does not work for me. especially the more fanfic-y stuff. but laurent using the ship name for him and damen in the text as a fake name is so fucking funny and i love it

(sorry i couldn't help myself)

The officer said, ‘We’re patrolling for Damianos of Akielos.’ ‘Who’s Damianos of Akielos?’ said Laurent.

‘He’s the King’s son,’ Damen heard himself saying, ‘Kastor’s brother.’ ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Lamen. Prince Damianos is dead,’ said Laurent.

Then, to the officer: ‘I apologise for my assistant. He doesn’t keep up with Akielon affairs.’ ‘On the contrary, it’s believed Damianos of Akielos is alive, and that he crossed into this province with his men six days ago.’ The officer gestured to his squadron, waving them forward. ‘Damianos is in Akielos.’ To Damen’s disbelief, he was waving them forward to mend the wagon. One of the soldiers asked Nikandros for a wooden block to brace the wheel. Nikandros passed it to him wordlessly. Nikandros had the slightly stupefied look that Damen remembered from several of his own adventures with Laurent.

this scene works so well because of everything that came before it. just… absolutely perfect

‘When your wagon is repaired, we can ride with you to the inn,’ said the officer. ‘You’ll be quite safe. The rest of the garrison is stationed there.’ He used the same tone that Laurent had used when he had said, ‘Who’s Damianos?’ It was suddenly obvious that they were not free from suspicion. A provincial officer might not feel comfortable confronting a well-known merchant on the road and searching his wagons. But at an inn, he could set his men to investigate the wagons at his leisure. And why risk a fight with a dozen guards on the road, when you could simply escort them back to the waiting arms of your garrison? ‘Thank you, officer,’ said Laurent without hesitating. ‘Lead on.’

damen doing my analysis for me!

It was a common enough arrangement in the provinces: merchants and travellers of good birth appreciated and even subsidised a military presence, which elevated an establishment over the usual public houses where not even a slave, if they possessed a shred of respectability, would risk eating.

in akielos, it’s apparently more respectable to be enslaved than poor. boooooooo

‘Very well.’ Laurent showed no sign of hesitation whatsoever. ‘Come, Lamen.’

i think in-universe laurent isn’t using it as a ship name, but as a pun to call damen “lame.” because he’s a bitch

‘This is Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant.’ ‘That isn’t Charls the renowned Veretian cloth merchant.’ The innkeeper looked at Laurent. ‘I can assure you that I am.’ ‘I can assure you. Charls the renowned merchant is already here.’ There was a pause.

‘Who is this impostor claiming to be m—’ They came face to face with Charls the Veretian cloth merchant.

laurent is getting ready to “yes, and” the shit out of this

Charls took one look at the unmistakable blue eyes and blond hair of his Prince, who he had last seen in Damen’s lap dressed as a pet in a tavern at Nesson. His eyes widened. Then, with a truly heroic effort: ‘Charls!’ said Charls.

no notes. delightful situation.

‘If he is Charls, then who are you?’ said the officer to Charls. ‘I,’ said Charls, ‘am—’ ‘He is Charls, I have known him these eight years,’ said the innkeeper. ‘That’s right. He is Charls. I am Charls. We are cousins,’ said Charls, gamely, ‘named after our grandfather. Charls.’ ‘Thank you, Charls, this man believes I am the King of Akielos,’ said Laurent. ‘I simply meant that you might be an agent of the King,’ said Stavos irritably. ‘An agent of the King when he has raised taxes and threatens to bankrupt the entire cloth industry?’ said Laurent.

laurent in this scene is me like 70% of the time playing dungeons and dragons. yessss girl pull in local politics and economics to make people accept your credibility

‘There is no need to apologise, Stavos. Your vigilance does you credit.’ Laurent gave a stiff little bow of his own. Then he drew off his riding cloak and passed it to Damen to carry.

‘In disguise again!’ Charls said sotto voce as he drew Laurent over to his table by the fire. ‘What is it this time? A mission for the Crown? A secret rendezvous? No fear, Your Highness—it’s my honour to keep your secret.’

charls deserves his celebrity status. i’m obsessed. he’s like, “oh goodness how delightful! i wonder what fun games of deception the king of vere and his little boyfriend are playing now!”

‘This is my assistant Guilliame.’ ‘This is my assistant Lamen,’ said Laurent.

laurent gets to be himself but damen doesn’t. lmaoooo

Laurent found a seat close to Charls and the silk merchant Mathelin. Lamen was relegated to a small three-legged stool at the table end.

loving how the narrative is now just calling damen “lamen”

It was decent wine and there were no flutists or dancing boys, which was the best one could hope for at a public inn, Damen thought.

WELL DAMEN I THINK THAT’S PROBABLY BETTER THAN PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY ENSLAVED AND GROOMED TO PROVIDE ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE RULING CLASS BUT MAYBE THAT’S JUST ME

Guilliame came to talk to him, since they were the same rank. ‘Lamen. That’s an unusual name.’ ‘It’s Patran,’ said Damen. ‘You speak very good Akielon,’ he said, loudly and slowly. ‘Thank you,’ said Damen.

picturing him like yzma in the sombrero

Nikandros had to stand awkwardly by the end of the table when he arrived. He frowned when he realised he had to give his report to Laurent. ‘The wagons are unpacked. Charls.’

nonconsensual improv

‘We usually operate in Delfeur, but I’ve been forced to come south. Nikandros is completely useless as the Kyros,’ Laurent said, loudly enough for Nikandros to hear him. ‘He doesn’t know the first thing about cloth.’ ‘That is so true,’ agreed Mathelin. Charls said, ‘He disallowed trading in Kemptian silk, and when I tried to sell silk from Varenne he taxed it at five sols a bolt!’

this is the best day of laurent’s life

nikandros private twitter vent #15. obviously. also does this count as an hr complaint? gonna say no—but i think nikandros would still file it out of spite

‘Charls met the Prince of Vere once,’ Guilliame said to Damen, lowering his voice to the conspiratorial, ‘in a tavern in Nesson, disguised as a,’ lowering it further, ‘prostitute.’ Damen looked over at Laurent, who was deep in conversation, letting his eyes pass slowly over every familiar feature, the cool expression tipped with gold in the firelight. He said, ‘Did he?’ ‘Charls said, think of the most expensive pet you’ve ever seen, then double it.’ ‘Really?’ said Damen. ‘Of course, Charls knew who he was right away, because he couldn’t hide his princely style, and nobility of spirit.’ ‘Of course,’ said Damen.

two possibilities here:

1) charls is lying about recognizing laurent immediately as a flex for his friends (most likely)

2) charls did recognize laurent and was just like “go off i guess”

Across the table, Laurent was asking questions about cultural differences in trade. Veretians liked ornate fabrics and dyes, weavings and ornamentations, Charls said, but Akielons had a sharper focus on quality, and their textiles were in truth more sophisticated, every aspect of the weave revealed by their deceptively simple styles. In some ways, it was harder to trade here. ‘Maybe you could encourage Akielons to wear sleeves. You’d sell more cloth,’ said Laurent. Everyone laughed politely at the joke, and then speculative looks crossed one or two faces, as if this young cousin of Charls’s might have stumbled by accident onto a good idea.

this is perfect for several reasons:

1) laurent using his political intelligence to make a genuinely helpful suggestion, foreshadowing that he will be a great leader

2) laurent dunking on akielion fashion in front of damen, which he has done several times before, but this time damen can’t argue

3) laurent further mocking damen, who dropped a fucking pitcher because of his exposed arms, by suggesting that his entire culture start wearing sleeves en masse so such situations would not occur again. iconic.

4) we actually get a sense that it might have worked. because laurent really is just That Bitch.

the wagons where Jokaste was spending the night, along with Guion’s wife, Loyse.

so we’ve got an akielion noblewoman, who had the bastard child of one of the two princes as a means of social mobility, having a hostage sleepover with the mourning and resentful wife of a veretian noble whose son died as a result of her husband’s unforgivable choice of letting said son be assaulted as a means of social climbing. very fun girl’s night circumstances

Damen the assistant checked in on both the soldiers and the wagons,

so he’s called damen again? but he’s called lamen in like two paragraphs. did someone else get the name damen? i don’t see that on the page. maybe it’s just distinguishing based on who’s perceiving him? i don’t know it’s fine i don’t need to understand every little detail (this is going to bother me until i find a coherent pattern or forget entirely)

One of the inn men came out with a lantern in his hand traversing the courtyard to tell Lamen that his room was prepared, second door to the right.

okay so i think it’s “lamen” when he’s interacting with the inn people, “damen” with his own people, and a mixture of both with charls and the merchant’s guild

He ascended the stairs. Without the lantern, there was quite a bit of unlit gloom,

He had exchanged his Akielon cotton for an oversized Veretian bed shirt, loose and trailing laces. And he had dragged all of the bedding from the small Akielon-style bed and heaped it in front of the fire, even dragging the clean mattress down to join the smaller pallet there.

didn’t they do something similar with the fireplace in the nesson inn scene? i get that we’re getting a lot of parallels and it’s great

Damen looked at the bedding, and said, carefully, ‘The innsman sent me here.’

“carefully” he’s like “uhhhh i don’t want to be presumptive but am i about to get laid”

‘At my instruction,’ said Laurent.

“yes. yes you are about to get laid."

Damen felt his heart begin to pound, even as he held himself still and tried not to make any dangerous assumptions.

damen i can read you like a book (literally)

Laurent said, ‘It’s our last chance for a real bed before the Kingsmeet.’

this is brutal, knowing that laurent almost certainly intends to turn himself in at this point :(

‘I need to bathe.’ He said it into Laurent’s ear, let his lips find the sensitive skin just behind it. They were kissing again, deep, heated kisses. ‘So go and bathe.’ He found himself pushed backwards, looking at Laurent across a stretch of space. Leaned against the wall, Laurent indicated to the small wooden door with his chin. His pale brows arched. ‘Or do you expect me to attend you?’

unlike previous sex scenes, they’re actually taking a breather and considering it beforehand. making the conditions how they both actually want them to be. i like that a lot, as opposed to the last sex scene, where it was all very sudden and impulsive. my guess is that i will love this scene for the reasons i disliked the last—they represent the two different ways damen and laurent respectively experience and prefer to express desire. damen’s is overwhelming and raw and primal (“you like it simple”), while laurent’s well-considered and gradual and within his own control. i think it’s very clear which my preference is, and i do stand by the suggestion that the last scene wasn’t as Good as damen felt like it was—but i also acknowledge that i’m just more on the laurentian side of things, and part of a relationship is indulging things that your partner desires that might not be your exact preference. in chapter 12, laurent is indulging damen. in this chapter, damen is more indulging laurent.

The evidence of planning was in fact very like Laurent, though Damen had never experienced it from him quite in this context before.

congrats buddy, you’re about to

(also i love and am saddened by the idea of laurent having a list of things he’d like to do with damen before turning himself in, and just kind of methodically assembling the circumstances to make sure he can experience it all)

Laurent didn’t follow him in, but left him to wash, a utilitarian task.

damen’s bath trauma is definitely an ongoing thing, and i like how we’re seeing how it can slowly heal. we’ve gone from Very Bad associations to Neutral associations—utilitarianism. eventually we’ll get to Good, but there’s still a way to go.

Here, too, was evidence of planning, and he could see it now for what it was: the lit candles, the joint bedding, and Laurent himself, clean and dressed in a bed shirt.

He thought of Laurent, waiting for him expectantly. It was charming, because it was clear that Laurent was unsure exactly what to do, yet, typically, had acted to take control of everything.

it better be charming or else i’m personally screwed. who said that

‘First time to entertain a lover?’ Just saying the word made him flush, and he saw Laurent flush too.

cheesy ass line

Laurent said, ‘Are you bathed?’ ‘Yes,’ said Damen. Laurent was standing on the other side of the room, near the stripped-down bed. He looked tense in the flame light, a nervy steeling of himself. Laurent said, ‘Take a step back.’

i like how we’re subtly seeing that laurent has been identifying the reasons that doing this specific sex act makes him anxious, and actively seeking to create circumstances where he can feel safe. he wants damen to be clean. he wants to be the one giving verbal instructions. he does not want to be touched. verbalizing those things makes it slightly less overwhelming, and allows him to consciously experience this, rather than just saying “i don’t care, do whatever you want.” and that’s amazing.

‘Take off the towel,’ said Laurent.

dead girl walking…

Virgins and the inexperienced tended to get nervous, which he enjoyed as a challenge to be overcome, hesitancy turned into eagerness and pleasure. It pleased some deep part of him to see in Laurent the flickering of a similar reaction. Laurent eventually lifted his gaze from the place where it had, instinctively, dropped. He let Laurent see him, see his nakedness was on display, the strident fact of his arousal. The flames in the stone hearth were too loud as they consumed the young cut wood. ‘Don’t touch me,’ said Laurent. And dropped to his knees on the floor of the inn.

god this is SO fucking good. laurent puts himself face-to-face with a source of trauma and abuse, sets his boundaries so he can feel safe, and decides to challenge that trauma head-on (PUN NOT INTENDED)

(slightly related, i just recently wrote my first earnest sex scene ever in a self-insert fic for another fandom and it is a LOT like this one. which is funny, bc that wasn’t really was i was trying to do, but i guess it rubbed off on me when i read it back in may. and i’m a lot like laurent, soooooooo)

oh also, damen’s perception of laurent being a cute nervous virgin, when in reality he’s like fighting demons with his bare hands, is yknow. more of the same stuff i comment on, where it’s good that he doesn’t see laurent as a victim but also lacks the understanding that we have and it’s paradoxically frustrating and nice

Damen’s pulse escalated wildly, even as he tried rather desperately not to presume that any other action would necessarily follow from this one.

yeah damen he’s definitely on his knees to rearrange the rug

(it’s nice that he’s trying to show restraint, especially after the last scene. not that he did anything WRONG last time, but he seems to be noticing that this is something laurent wants and needs to control)

Laurent was going to do it. When you see a panther opening its jaws you don’t get your dick out.

i listened to an interview with cs pacat where she was commenting on the way people always portray giving head or being penetrated as an inherently demeaning activity, like it’s always showing that the person doing it is weak, but she pushes back like uhhhh no. when you see a panther opening its jaws you don’t get your dick out

also telling is that one of laurent’s first (and arguably most memorable) acts of dominance over damen was forcing him to have someone else give him head, which very much made him the weaker and demeaned person in the situation, even if damen ultimately kinda just shrugged it off bc he was already so casual about sex before meeting laurent and also like. had sex slaves

The idea of the frigid Prince of Vere sucking his cock was impossible.

was

Laurent’s eyes were very dark, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths, clearly struggling with something, as he leant in again.

i am very grateful that laurent exists as a character and is written the way he is

He hadn’t imagined it like this. He knew Laurent’s mouth, knew its vicious capability. He knew it as Laurent’s primary weapon. In his daily life, Laurent held his lips taut, repressing their lush shape into a hard line, his mouth cruel curves. Damen had seen Laurent eviscerate people with that mouth. Now Laurent’s lips were given over to pleasure, his words traded for Damen’s cock.

this is one of my favorite lines/paragraphs in the entire series. definitely the best one related to eroticism. it’s so much more rewarding for damen to have laurent, who he genuinely respects for his brilliance and sharp tongue, willingly and mindfully taking him despite his anxieties out of desire and determination, than for a slave with no personality to do what they’ve been groomed to do, or someone damen only shallowly understands like jokaste to basically use him for social clout. it’s also more rewarding to me personally as a reader for this to happen, as opposed to laurent just being like “i don’t care, do what you want” with very little mindfulness or control and damen just taking him like that, which is what happened in chapter 12. ultimately i think it’s more of a matter of taste and personal preference, which of those situations a reader prefers. both make sense for the characters they feature in control, and tell us useful things in understanding who they are and how they feel.

It was clear that Laurent didn’t know how to process the fact that he was turned on, and that part of his wariness was that he was uncertain what was next, one of the strange gaps in his experience that Damen couldn’t predict.

fuck… that’s so sad. but a really good detail and i’m glad it’s there.

In the dim light, Laurent said, ‘A fair exchange, is it?’ ‘I don’t know. What do you want?’

i’m trying to figure out what exactly this means. is laurent asking for something in return, as a way to minimize his own vulnerability here? what does the “i don’t know” mean, then? it almost sounds like laurent is referring to some previous conversation between them. ughhh i feel lazy. is it just bc damen gave laurent head in a previous scene? laurent being aware that he gives really good head (because [redacted]), basically teasing damen that he (laurent) gives better head and they both know it, and therefore a true fair exchange would include damen giving him a little extra? and damen teasingly being like “mayyybbbeeee, depends on what you want ;)”

‘Show me,’ said Laurent, ‘how it could be.’

damen understands this as “how it could be if we were together as we’ve fantasized about, without any of the war shit and courting conventionally”

laurent means that, but also, “how it could be if i’m not being assaulted or dissociating. because with what i’m about to do—turning myself in to be killed—i’m never gonna have it”

‘I would court you,’ said Damen, ‘with all the grace and courtesy that you deserve.’ He undid the first lace on Laurent’s shirt, and the fabric began to open, a glimpse of the hollow of his throat. Laurent’s lips were parted, his breath hardly stirring. Damen said, ‘There’d be no lies between us.’ He opened the second lace, felt the low throb of his own pulse, the warmth of Laurent’s skin as his fingers moved to the third. ‘We’d have time,’ Damen said, ‘to be together.’ And in the warm flame light, he lifted his hand and cupped Laurent’s cheek, and then leaned in, and kissed him on the lips, gently.

figuratively and literally undressing him. also this is so hot. anyway

He felt Laurent’s shock, as though he had not expected to be kissed after what he had just done.

stopppp

The way Laurent kissed was nothing like the way he did anything else. It was simple and without artifice, as if kissing were serious.

this scene is interesting, because it’s kind of written like they haven’t done stuff like kissing and intimacy together before. is it kind of an indication that damen subconsciously recognizes that this is the first laurent has allowed himself to be fully present? bc i think that is what’s happening here

The kiss deepened at Laurent’s bidding.

“at laurent’s bidding” let’s fucking gooooooo. man who has struggled to prove he’s in control of a world that hates him for 2.5 books has been willingly given control by someone who deeply respects and cares for him, who has said that he trusts him to treat him well

the sort of proprietary touch he wouldn’t have dreamed of before tonight, and still half expected Laurent to kill him for. Laurent made a small sound of encouragement, breaking off the kiss for a moment and closing his eyes, all his attention on Damen’s touch.

yeah this works for me. lol. in chapter 12 it’s like, there damen was getting off on laurent’s lack of control or mindfulness, the fact that his defenses had just completely fallen and he was being “honest,” so much so that he almost acted like a slave. but here, laurent is mindful about his choice to make himself vulnerable, and damen both sees and respects him for the complex and snippy and very un-slavelike person he is. the amazing thing here is that laurent isn’t pushing back or away, but he’s also not dissociating or pretending to be someone or something he isn’t—in fact, he’s pushing himself to be there despite his hesitation, and trusting damen to treat him well.

‘You like it slow.’ He dipped his head near Laurent’s ear. ‘Yes.’

I FUCKING KNEW “YOU LIKE IT SIMPLE” WAS GOING TO CONTINUE TO BE RELEVANT

do i even need to spell it out, how that line so perfectly works with "you like it slow"? holy fucking shit.

Laurent’s overfine skin was more sensitive than his own, though during the day Laurent ruthlessly strapped himself into the most severe clothing possible. He wondered if Laurent repressed sensation for the same reason that he struggled to admit it now, his jaw taut.

i love this little observation, wow. laurent represses feelings because he tends to experience them more deeply or sensitively than other people. this means that when he protects himself from harm, he’s also protecting himself from pleasure—because to laurent, as a victim of sexual abuse especially, pleasure and harm come hand-in-hand. we get to see damen figure this out on the page, even without the context of the regent, and accurately suspects that laurent’s “struggle to admit it” runs deeper than just being a flustered virgin, which is what he had previously assumed.

It was Laurent who pushed him down onto the bedding. Laurent’s hands were on him. Laurent touched him as if to learn the shape and feel of his body, as if to catalogue every part of him and commit it to memory.

HMMM I WONDER WHY HE’S TRYING TO CATALOGUE AND MEMORIZE HERE

Laurent broke off, and appeared to have come to a decision, his breathing quickened but controlled. ‘Make me come,’ he said, and placed Damen’s hand between his legs.

checking another thing off the bucket list! i feel like laurent had almost an intimacy contingency plan here: if i do a and still feel comfortable and present, then i’ll try to do b. and then c, if i haven’t been overstimulated or triggered yet. all the way down the list

‘Like that?’ No. Slower.

remember when laurent gave very similar directions to ancel as he gave damen head back in book 1?

“You’re more likely to win a game if you don’t play your whole hand at once,’ said Laurent. ‘Start more slowly.”

turns out the key to pleasuring laurent really was hidden in plain sight the entire time ;) it is the game he likes, after all

His own body’s renewed interest had grown from lazy arousal to primed, heavy; ready to mount, even as he put it aside to watch Laurent attempt to let his guard down.

“ready to mount” damen don’t be cringe

He felt the repression when it came, the hard restraint that Laurent exerted over his body, his stomach clenching, a muscle moving in his jaw. He knew what it signalled. Damen didn’t stop moving his hand.

so he didn’t come? am i reading that right?

‘Don’t like to come?’ ‘Is that a problem?’ His breathing shallow, Laurent didn’t quite manage the approximation of his usual tone. ‘Not for me. I’ll tell you how it was when I’m done.’

damen: you seem to be having a weird time with this (teasing to ease the intensity of whatever dark shit is going on in laurent’s head) laurent: is the matter of how one does or does not come a problem damen: not for me, i come all the time and i’m awesome at it. how about we come together and compare our experiences

they’re ridiculous. i love them

Laurent swore, once, succinctly,

he took Laurent in his hand and said, ‘Come on, then.’ It felt ridiculously daring to tell Laurent in any respect what to do. The first thrust against him was deliberate, a push of heat into his hand. Laurent’s eyes were on his. He could feel that it was new for Laurent to do this, just as it was new for him to feel like he was receiving it. He wondered if Laurent had ever fucked anyone in earnest, and he realised with a jolt of shock that Laurent hadn’t. The flood of heat that came at that wasn’t comfortable. And then like Laurent he was suddenly somewhere he had never been.

cool way for the playing field to be evened between them—the idea of bottoming makes damen feel similarly confused and inexperienced but undeniably aroused to laurent in like most sexual situations

‘I’ve,’ said Damen, ‘never—’ ‘Nor have I,’ said Laurent. ‘You’d be my first.’

damen jots that down for later (laurent doesn’t think there’s going to be a later)

Laurent said, ‘I thought that in Akielos, a First Night was special.’ ‘For a slave it is,’ said Damen. ‘For a slave it means everything.’

“you like it simple”

damen has realized there is so much more to loving a real person than the simplicity of having semi-ritualistic sex with slaves groomed to only care about his pleasure and not their own, for whom the pinnacle of existence is getting fucked. laurent has a lot more going on than just his sexuality, and so does damen. and they truly know and love each other, and demonstrate that in ways that aren't just sexual.

for a slave, this means everything—everything in the absence of any other purpose, because slaves aren’t allowed to have any other purpose. for a person with purpose beyond sex, this means SOMETHING. and it’s something they’ve actually chosen to care about and pursue, because they want it without having to be groomed. and that’s why free will is sexy.

Climax hit even though they were not inside each other’s bodies, but joined together, one.

it’s dangerous to come alone

He felt Laurent shifting, too soon. ‘I’ll get—’

i like how his trauma responses don’t like magically disappear once he lets himself get off. in fact were are reminded of them immediately

He knew that Laurent was fastidious after lovemaking, and he liked that he knew it, liked that he was learning Laurent’s idiosyncracies. Laurent paused, touching his fingers to the wooden edge of the table and just breathing in the dim light. Laurent’s post-coital habits were also an excuse, covering a need to take a moment to himself, and Damen knew that, too.

He sipped from the shallow cup that Laurent provided, and poured water for Laurent in turn, which Laurent didn’t seem to expect.

too easy to point out the metaphor there

Damen stretched out comfortably, and waited for Laurent to do the same. That took minutes longer than it would have with any other lover.

he likes it slow!!

‘You’re still wearing it.’ He couldn’t help but say it. Laurent’s wrist was heavy with gold, like the colour of his hair in the firelight. ‘So are you.’ ‘Tell me why.’ ‘You know why,’ said Laurent.

i think this might be the closest thing we get to an “i love you”

‘There will be no Patran princess, or daughter of the Empire.’

THERE'S NOT GOING TO BE A PATRAN PRINCESS, YOU STUPID SLUT

‘It’s your duty to continue your line.’

damen is projecting. he’s realizing how much he wants to marry laurent and truly Have Him, but it’s in conflict with his obligation as king to create an heir. so i guess that’s also why we have plot device baby

He didn’t know why he said it.

don’t worry man we’ve got our people (me) on it

‘No. I’m the last. My line ends with me.’ Damen turned, to find Laurent was not looking back at him, but also had his eyes on some point in the dim light. Laurent’s voice was quiet. ‘I have never said that to anyone before.’

a few implications here. most likely perceived by damen: he’s ashamed of his bloodline and the bad people in it, including himself. probably intended by laurent: he’s not going to have a chance to continue the bloodline even if he wanted to, because he’s going to turn himself in and get killed

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ said Laurent. ‘I always thought that I’d have to face my uncle alone.’

i hate it here. just TALK TO HIM AND FIND ANOTHER SOLUTION (something laurent has been unwilling to do several times in this series, and each time it has been a mistake)

laurent has gotten so comfortable conferring with damen re: plans and strategy, as long as the goal is to protect other people. what makes this different is that the only person who will be “harmed” by this plan is laurent himself, and laurent doesn’t believe that he deserves to live, especially if his death means everyone else can win. strong vs weak stuff is still deeply internalized. he does not expect himself to be able to get out of this one by killing a guy with a chair—he’s walking into the situation knowing the regent is stronger, and the best he can do is pave the way for damen to exercise his own strength in opposition

‘You’re not alone,’ said Damen. Laurent didn’t answer, but he did give a smile, and reached out to touch Damen, wordlessly.

yet

it is interesting how we went from laurent keeping secrets from damen in order to punish him and limit the amount of intimacy and care they can show each other, to laurent keeping secrets from damen in order to save him and relishing every second of intimacy and care they have left

Charls’s wagon train lent them respectability

literally an influencer

When the days got too hot, they retreated to inns and wayhouses, and once a large farmhouse where they ate bread, hard cheese and figs, and Akielon sweets of honey and nuts that attracted wasps in the sticky heat.

do you think akielos also has slaves to provide fine goods and foods for the ruling class? is it just a sex thing?

‘So you ministered to his household.’ ‘And to his boys,’ said Paschal. Damen said nothing.

i think damen definitely suspects [redacted] deep down, maybe he thinks laurent would have told him already if it were true?

‘I see that you used to be a slave, and that Charls has freed you,’ Guilliame said to him, as they prepared to part ways. Guilliame spoke very earnestly. ‘I want you to know that Charls and I have never traded in slaves.’ Damen looked out at the weird beauty of the gnarled landscape. He heard himself say, ‘Damianos will end slavery when he becomes King.’

LET’S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Nikandros was looking at Laurent. ‘He’s very—’ ‘You get used to it,’ said Damen, with a little wellspring of joy inside him, because that wasn’t really true.

AWWWWWW this is a love confession too

And that was strange. To be here, so close to the end of his own plans. So close to the end, really, of everything.

oh my god laurentttt

To be where he’d never dreamed he would be, and to know that by morning, this would be finished, or at least, his part in it.

STOP

Then, because there should be no witnesses to this, he dismissed the guards. All bad things were done in the dark.

Jokaste watched all of this happen and didn’t flinch from it, nor did she scream or plead for help, as he had thought she would not.

i really like “as he had thought she would not”

He said, ‘I think it’s Kastor’s child.’ Jokaste didn’t answer him, and there was a silence in which her gaze was on him. Laurent regarded her in turn. Around them, the camp stayed quiet, no sounds except for the breeze and the night. ‘I think you saw it clearly, in those twilight days in Akielos. The end was coming, and Damianos wouldn’t listen to anyone. The only way to save his life was to persuade Kastor to send him as a slave to Vere. To do that you had to be in Kastor’s bed.’

is laurent accusing her of loving damen and trying to save him, in a very manipulative and roundabout way? because that is what he’s doing right now. which is neat. i like these two together

It gave something away. And she was angry about it, and for the first time she was afraid. He said, ‘I think it’s Kastor’s child, because I don’t think you would use Damen’s child against him.’

“because you love him. i know this, because i’m just like you and i love him”

‘You mean, the only difference between us is that I chose the wrong brother?’ As the stars began to drift across the sky, Laurent thought about Nicaise, standing in the courtyard with a handful of sapphires. ‘I don’t think you chose,’ said Laurent.

WOAH okay gotta unpack that. is laurent thinking of nicaise in regards to what he (laurent) didn’t and couldn’t do to save him? at this time where he’s doing something to save people he cares about? or is he comparing jokaste to nicaise, in that they both had to fraternize with nobility in a way that was technically their “choice” but very much informed by money and society? or is he comparing the baby that he’s giving himself up to save to nicaise, that’s why he cares so deeply about saving it, and he has no choice? none of these feel quite right.

“nicaise in the courtyard with a handful of sapphires” i forget what exactly this refers to. is it when nicaise is about to warn laurent, and fails to? is that the last time laurent saw him alive? is he likening nicaise’s lack of autonomy in the situation with the regent, and the efforts he took to help laurent despite it, to jokaste telling kastor to spare damen? these imperfect attempts at helping others within a situation that robs a person of their control, which an observer could identify as stupid or useless? just like what laurent is doing right now?? yeah. i think that might be it

#capri #captive prince #kings rising #laurent of vere #damen of akielos #lamen #charls the cloth merchant #sam reads capri

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bluesgrxce · 5 months ago

Text

Yandere Link x Reader x Yandere Mipha Headcanons

Virgin Link x Reader x Zelda love triangle - Obvious ship is obvious, has been done a thousand times before, we all know the dynamic

Chad Link x Reader x Mipha love triangle - Rarely if ever explored, has more room for interpretation, involves THE superior ship of all time

I think we all know which one is better. (/j because I love the Link and Zelda triangle too)

Pretty much every yandere LOZ writer that I've seen has agreed that BOTW Link and Zelda would not be able to work together. At least not when they first met each other. And I totally agree. They're forced to spend time together nearly 24/7 by King Rhoam, which means they're also forced to share you, and that'll create tension. But Link and Mipha? They would definitely have an alliance.

Their alliance is based on two factors. One: They share the same goal of wanting to give you the best life possible. Zelda uses you more as a coping mechanism, and even though Link does that too, he's especially focused on making sure that you're safe. Mipha desires the same, as well as making you happy.

Two: Although Mipha is obsessed with you and priortizes your needs over Link's, she still admires him as a person. She knows how useful he can be. Link respects her as well. Not quite as much, but just enough to accept her into your life and let her help give you everything you want.

In result, these two work together scarily well, even better than Link ever would with Zelda. They never had past resentment towards each other, and unlike Zelda who can be strongly adamant, Mipha would let Link take the lead and make big decisions.

That... isn't always a good thing. Link is willing to do anything to protect you, even if it includes doing things that would make you hate him. Mipha is aware of this, but she thinks Link is more capable of ensuring your safety than she is, so she'll likely remain silent. But that also means that they have less disagreements, making their alliance even more powerful.

If you allow them to, they'll spoil you rotten. Mipha uses her royalty riches to purchase anything your heart desires, and Zora's Dormain is basically your playground. You've got just as much power there as she does in some ways. Because of that, this is the place where they'll keep you.

Link is also putting in work. He'll use his skills as an adventurer to do multiple things in your name, like bringing back rare items from his travels or cooking your favorite foods. If you ever begin a sentence with "I want" then expect Mipha to drop everything just to hear you out. She'll tell Link about it and he'll run off at the speed of light to get whatever it is that you requested.

Outside of that, the time you spend together as a group is generally quiet. They're both introverted and they would rather watch you do your own thing instead of talking all the time. Just being in your presence is enough to give them peace of mind.

Fortunately, neither are the type of yandere to keep you locked up. Not with actual chains. (Unless they believe you're in severe danger, but something insane like the calamity would have to be going on for that to happen) Link still loves to explore and he would love it even more if he could take you along on the journey. Mipha wouldn't object to that as long as you liked the idea! However, they both know that Hyrule is littered with monsters, so they're not about to let you leave without one or both of them by your side.

If you ever argue with one, the other will try to convince you to make up with them. You'd think they'd want to turn you against them so they can steal your love, and trust me-- it's crossed both of their minds before. But this alliance has worked really well in their favor and they don't want it to fall apart so easily.

That's not to say their alliance is perfect. Jealousy still exists in both of them, even if it hasn't been acted upon yet. And like I mentioned earlier, Link is usually the one who makes the big decisions on how to handle you, meaning that their alliance has a power imbalance.

Plus, Link is stuck guarding Zelda most of the time. Mipha is more than fine with taking care of you by herself, but Link hates the idea of being away for too long. He'll try to convince Zelda to spend more time at Zora's Dormain to avoid getting in trouble with King Rhoam, but he's willing to sneak off if he must.

If you're accepting, then your future is already laid out for you. It would be extremely difficult for Link to abandon his position as Zelda's knight just so he can become a normal citizen again, even after the calamity is over with. So the easiest way to get around that would be to transfer him to the Zora army instead. Except there might be issues allowing a Hylian inside their guard which is currently composed entirely of Zora... Until Mipha takes the crown and makes some changes.

Either way, you're going to marry Mipha and be introduced into the Zora monarchy. Congratulations, you're royalty now! You're going to marry Link as well, but not officially, since some people would see it as scandalous to be in a relationship with your knight at the same time as your wife. But neither Link nor Mipha care. They know what your true feelings are and that's all that matters to them.

But what if you don't accept them? Because as much as they spoil you, they still restrain you. You can't go anywhere alone. You can't do anything that would risk your safety, whether it's monster hunting or just going down a long set of stairs. And they're always second guessing you, especially Mipha. "Are you sure you're alright? I saw you frown for a second. Yes, it was only for a second, but you do know how I worry..."

So even if you like being with them intially, it'll get old after a while. Mipha will notice your discomfort first. She'll adjust those restrictions ever-so-slightly to make you think things have changed, when they really haven't. If you must leave Zora's Dormain without her or Link, then let a guard accompany you. If you must continue associating with that friend of yours, then tell her and Link everything about your relationship. Tell them everything about all of your relationships. They'll find who's good and who's bad for you. (Don't be surprised if they think everyone is bad.)

Link, though... Once he hears about this, he immediately shuts it down. He doesn't trust anybody to protect you but himself. And he's seething at Mipha for being so irresponsible. She's supposed to look after you, not risk letting you escape.

Just the way that he glares at her is a silent form of gaslighting. She truly isn't fit to take care of you on her own, is she? She's too soft. She needs Link. If it weren't for him, you would have already left her.

And now that Link has doubts about her ability to keep an eye on you, he'll enforce the rules himself. Now you can't even walk around Zora's Dormain without him by your side- when he's gone, you just stay put with Mipha. Not allowed to do anything until he returns. If you resist, he'll only make your life harder.

But you aren't totally screwed. There is one way to make their alliance fall apart: make them doubt each other. Link already doesn't trust Mipha enough anymore, so you need to manipulate Mipha into turning against Link. Usually that's impossible, but now that her confidence is low, you can appeal to her sympathetic side. Make her feel guilty for letting Link do whatever he wants to you. In this state, it won't take long before she cracks.

Your best bet would be to trick her into thinking you want to run away together from Link. Actually taking her with you isn't an option. The Zora will go into a frenzy when their beloved princess disappears and if they find you, they'll likely blame you for convincing her to run away.

Mipha wouldn't want to leave at first. She'd be too anxious about the consequences, knowing that she would have to abandon her father and brother. Knowing that Link would stop at nothing to take you back. She's just so obsessed with you though and she couldn't fathom the idea of you seriously tricking her. Besides, you only want to leave so you can be happy together, right?

She thought so. She really, truly believed so. But you went missing the moment she turned away to pack her stuff. Then... There was no other choice but to tell Link the truth. Because it's Mipha and she's simply not the type to lie, even if it might hurt her.

In this case, though? It isn't even a "might." Link had gotten used to being assured of your safety (or used to being in control of you) that it freaks him out once he hears you're gone. His immediate thought was to go find you, but his second is that how could he have ever trusted someone like her to protect you? He leaps to anger. He draws his sword.

I can't say for certain what happens next. He knows how much trouble he'll get in for harming her, but in that moment, it wouldn't cross his mind. She probably wouldn't fight back much since she respects him so highly and feels awful for allowing you to take advantage of her.

...If Mipha dies, the Zora will never forgive you. They'll be more pissed at Link obviously, but they'll blame you for indirectly causing this to happen. The whole LOZ fandom would never forgive you because we all love Mipha. I would never forgive you because I am the ultra #1 Mipha enjoyer. You might be able to live a content life if you can ignore the hatred and hide away, but just know that Link won't be the only one tracking you down. You'll be on the run for the rest of your life.

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