#who runs a TIGHT fuckin ship
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ways my emotional support cat has emotionally supported me thus far:
-got the zoomies while I was crying and distracted me by being fucking goofy
-found a bottle of Lexapro that had rolled under my bed (after he knocked it off my nightstand, but he did find it)
-crawled up on my shoulders like a parrot, preventing me from getting any work done (benefit unclear), pic related
-whined like a little baby when I wouldn't let him bite my face (???)
-REFUSES to let me piss without supervision (the bathroom door doesn't close all the way sometimes and he just bonks into it until it opens)
-forces me to get out of bed and bothers me relentlessly when I don't (this one actually is really helpful)
-does this:
#his official esa status is pending with the university but since we live in family housing and not the dorms now theyve been chill#like. they let toddlers live here they can handle a more or less well behaved cat#hes well behaved in the sense hes not destructive at least. he is kind of a little menace though#see above wrt biting me on the nose#we looked up why he does that- apparently some cats give love bites bc theyre trying to groom you like another cat#and the solution is to hiss and meow like a sad injured kitten so he thinks he bit too hard and stops doing it#but the problem with mr man over here#is that when you do that#he will lick you as an apology (insert picture ''a tiny apology'') and then bite you again but softer#rinse and repeat until he gets huffy that you dont want to be bitten#and goes and sits across the room to gaze at you scornfulky#so thats why we have to kick him out of our room at night#hes like the 5th cat ive had in my life and the only one that does this#granted of the other 4. 2 were feral rescue kittens who were middle age by the time i was even born#and the other 2 we adopted when i was like 9 so they were mostly trained by my mom#who runs a TIGHT fuckin ship#anyway hes the loviest little baby boy ever#cult classic alias booboo
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hello !! if it’s not too much of a bother can you write another piece featuring Lion 🫶 maybe another angsty piece, maybe a lil lion + farah combo or something else like lion and gaz getting separated from the 141 during a mission and having to fight their way back to the extraction point (?). totally up to you !!! also thank u for keeping us well fed 🙇♀️
Lions and Ibexes
PAIRING: John Price x Wife!Reader 'Codename Lion'
SYNOPSIS: Impulsive was what John always called you - affectionately, of course. But he sure does worry when you disappear without him.
WORDCOUNT: 4.0k
WARNINGS: Blood, death, canon typical violence, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, banter, no connection to 'I'll Take the Night Shift' except codenames, protective!Price, suggestive jokes, etc.
A/N: I wanna give Farah a big smooch on her forehead.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
“So this is the woman that the Captain won’t keep quiet about,” you smirk and place your hand into Farah Karim’s, eyes shimmering as you both share a tight grip.
“Commander,” greeting the black-haired woman, your light gear hangs off of you easily and efficiently; clean and well-taken care of.
“Lion,” she nods, smirking back. “A pleasure.”
“Please,” you huff a laugh, “I wish it could be.” Expressions dim as you instantly get to work, the hot sun and dry air sticking to your flesh like a second skin of humidity. Releasing Farah’s hand you sigh and look around the old town, skimming over the forms of other Urzikstan Liberation Force soldiers.
Farah does the same, breathing lowly.
“On that, I believe you’d be right.” Brown eyes flick to yours, looking you over before the woman nods. “Come, we have much to discuss.”
“Lead the way,” your feet push you onward, following behind the Commander as your wedding band clinks against your chest. Held on that long chain, a hand comes up to brush it carefully, letting the man who wears the mirrored piece bring you comfort even from so far away.
John was set to ship out in two days—there were some other important operations that had taken precedence. While you could have stayed behind with him, as you had wanted to do, a plea from one of the far-distant operators of One-Four-One had caught your ear. The name Farah Karim was known.
If you didn’t offer assistance, you’d never feel right with yourself. One call to Laswell and it was all set up.
“I’ll be there in two days,” John had muttered into your scalp as you both lay in bed, tight to one another; lashes fluttering. “Wait for me, yeah? No running off.”
Your smirk had made him sigh a chuckle. “No stunts of heroics, my Love? Please, do you know who you’re speaking to?”
“You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know?”
“Well,” the words are uttered into his neck and John pulls you tighter into him. “I think that’s just about the most romantic thing to happen to someone.”
Smiling to yourself, you bring the ring to your lips and kiss it lightly before letting it drop. In your head, John is still in your shared flat in London, and you’ll be back by the hour. If only.
“You contacted Laswell and said you had encountered more of Barkov's remaining cells?” Your voice carries easy authority; ingrained confidence.
Farah looks back and nods firmly.
“They’ve taken over a town in the mountains, my forces can’t break the line.” She sighs aggressively and you stare with a sliding frown. “Even dead, Barkov cannot leave my people alone.”
In the back of your throat, you hum, “Well, parasites tend to be resilient.” Farah leads you into a home with maps on the tables and low talking of strategies from others. They pause when you enter and you nod politely. Many here knew your husband as the Commander did—all those years back when he was still only a Lieutenant and had broken Farah and her brother Hadir out from the Russian’s jail; labeled as prisoners of war.
John had told you about it during one of the many late nights in your joint offices. Eyes tired and his hands playing with your hair.
“What do you need me to do?” You ask genially, standing near the table and placing your hands down on it—standard M4A1 resting over your chest and your secondary weapon strapped to your thigh. Unlike most, you’d opted for lighter gear to allow you to move faster.
Fewer packs sit on your vest, and the gleam of the knife on your shoulder was a testament to your preference to close, silent, encounters. Though you liked to use your silver tongue to get out of situations, unfortunately, that wouldn’t work in this instance.
“Captain Price told me you’re one of the best undercover agents he’s seen.” You perk at this, looking over with raised brows.
“Hell,” your chuckle echoes, “when you said he couldn’t keep quiet I thought you were exaggerating.”
Farah smiles cheekily at you before pointing to the map of a mountain town surrounded by red Xs.
“My soldiers have marked off choke points all around the area. They’re the only pathways to the town, but heavily guarded.” She glances around the room and you hear her sigh heavily. “I wouldn’t have asked for assistance unless I knew I needed it. I’d prefer to leave foreign fighters out of this conflict, unlike my enemy.”
“I understand,” your head shakes. “It’s your home—I’ll go where you need me to. John should be here in two days to assist.”
Farah’s face flashes with surprise, her full brows rising on her head. “Price is coming?”
You shrug and laugh, “he’s stubborn.”
The woman chuffs before moving to fold her arms over her chest. “I think perhaps he’s more of a smitten husband, hm?” At the sheepish expression on your face and dipping eyes, Farah barks a laugh.
The band around your neck clinks into the stock of your gun as you stand to your full height.
“Is it that obvious,” you tease, tilting your head to her. You knew it was.
“I believe the simple action of asking is proof enough, Lion.” The commander looks at her work on the table, smiling easily but focusing still on her plan of attack. “But, regardless, I give my thanks for flying out on such short notice.”
“We help our own.” Resting your hands on the body of your weapon, you smile fondly. “Now, who do I need to kill?”
—
As it turns out, killing was the very baseline of what you needed to do.
Shuffling into the dark armor of the dead Russian soldier at your feet, you grunt at the slick spread of blood on the ground as you strap arm braces to your limbs.
“Heavy as all hell,” you grumble under your breath, picking up the large helmet and shoving it over your head with a puff of air.
Farah was going to lead a distraction on the far side of the western choke point while you slipped into the ranks, placing packs of C4 in some of the large-stocked weapons buildings. Easy enough for you, you admitted. You’d done things like this a million times over.
When all was said and done, slipping your knife into the new belt at your waist, you gaze down at the dead man with a huff of air; seeing the blood still pooling from the very obvious signs of a slit up the left armpit. You blink and stuff your wedding band down your shirt.
“Bad day, buddy,” grabbing his legs, you bare your heels and drag the body behind a large outcropping of rocks—long streaks of crimson left behind. “I’d hate to be you right now.”
Grunting, you drop the limp flesh with a thump like a paper-towel roll meeting the counter.
Shuffling back into the open, your feet make tracks to get you closer toward your targets. You hike the small pouch Farah gave you farther up your back without a word more.
John had always said you were quick-witted, but when he got here he’d lose that hat of his in disbelief. The truth was that you had forgotten what little of the Russian language you’d initially known, and the situation you found yourself in now was frankly not ideal.
C’mon Lion, you think to yourself, just pick up social cues and you’ll be good.
Oh, your husband was going to lose his shit.
—
“Come again?” The Captain barks. “What do you fuckin’ mean she’s in the base?!”
“I just explained it,” Farah levels, raising a brow. Blue eyes narrow with a growl until the Commander's lips flicker in a smirk. “We just had word three minutes ago. She’s fine, Captain.” Fingers find John’s nose bridge, digging deep into the flesh in large exasperation and worry.
He had caught a C17 and came here a day early after he’d gotten a bad feeling—internal wife radar going off as it usually did when you placed yourself in danger without him. Which was more often than not.
I told her not to be impulsive.
John sighs long and low, shaking his head. “Farah…you sent her in alone?”
“She is quite capable, Price.”
“I fucking…” He stops himself and puts his hands on the table in the center of the building. Men and women were snickering from the corners, sending amused glances. “I know.”
Farah sends a glance to her soldiers and they turn away to cover their smiling mouths. Enjoyment was in her tone as she grabs the walkie-talkie from the table top and clips it to her vest.
“There were more men than we anticipated—she had to be more careful when placing the charges. Captain,” John glares up at her when his eyes leave the maps. The Commander teases, “She is fine.”
As if on cue, the radio fizzles with your voice. Farah looks down with surprise and the Brit's eyes snap to it immediately; body tense.
There’s a moment of garbled static where the Captain feels his heart beating out of his chest. The panic that had snapped through him when you hadn’t come out to greet him when he’d landed was primal; genuine fear stuck in his bones like spiky grass. The bond the two of you had was closer than anything on this plane of existence. It was rare to not see one without the other.
Your voice cuts through and John’s shoulders sag under a non-existent weight.
“You should tell your men to move unless they want to be scorched, Farah!” The woman in the room smiles ferally and raises a smug brow as she looks at John.
“Copy, Lion. You have my thanks.”
“I didn’t know you could improvise Russian—it’s like the Slavic blood just entered my body!” The Brit covers his eyes with his hand and groans at the base of his throat.
“Tell her to get her arse back here before she gets bloody shot.” John takes off his bucket hat and tosses it to the table with a gloved hand, punching his hair back from his forehead. “Giving me gray hairs,” he grunts.
Farah laughs and says eagerly into the walkie, “Someone’s here to say hello.”
“...Oh, fuck.” Your panting breath clears and after a long glare at the device, John hears you say in a slow and awkward tone, “Hello, my Love!”
Farah tilts the radio closer to him and looks highly pleased.
“Get back here. Now.” John grunts out, fingers digging into his arms as he crosses them. “I told you to wait for me.”
You laugh nervously, deflecting, “...did you, Dear? I guess I misheard you.” The Brit’s jaw clenches but Farah can speak before he can.
“Lion, are all the charges set, then?” You seem thankful for the distraction, sighing over the line.
“All good over here! I just need the O.K from your men and then it’s about to get a whole lot brighter.”
“I’ll relay the news—get away, as far as you can.”
“Already on it,” your breathy chuckle exits and you pause before saying. “See you soon, Love!”
Tiny blue eyes bug, “Wait–!” The line clicks off and Farah is already tapping into the frequency for her soldiers, turning slightly away to converse in quick Arabic.
—
Evening rolls around and you jog back into the Liberation Force’s base, greeting the guards stationed with a breathless sigh; utterly sweaty but happy you’d gotten half a ride back from some locals. You’re back in your original gear, sear marks on your cheeks and hair slightly burned, but nonetheless unharmed.
Everyone welcomes you back with handshakes and pats on your shoulders—brushes to your arm as people pass. You guide yourself back to the main building with chuckles and deep smiles of achievement.
“Someone’s happy.” John’s voice freezes you halfway into the home and you cringe like a leaf. After a moment your eyebrows slide up with a cheeky smile.
“John,” you draw out his name and turn, seeing him leaning against the house with his arms crossed and legs stiff. He looks unimpressed in all of his handsome glory. “Well, don’t you look nice—did you trim your beard before coming out?”
Walking slowly towards him, you loop your hands around his waist and press kisses into his neck sweetly. The man sighs long and you feel his large palms rest on your hips heavily. You blink innocently into his orbs.
“Your silver tongue won’t work on me, Love.” The glint in his expression eggs you on as his nose tints down to touch yours. You smile brightly, seeing the wrinkles on his forehead dim as he melts into you easily.
Whispering, you utter to the air, “I’d say you like my tongue, you brute. Tell me often enough.” Not a beat is missed, but you feel his cheeks go slightly red.
“Keep it on a leash and maybe I’d like it more, yeah?” You snort loudly, head dipping only to feel his lips press into your scalp; his smile is teasing as his beard drags against you.
John breathes you in along with the scent of sand. One of his hands travels up to lock into the back of your neck, playing with the chain of your necklace. The one that mirrors his own down to the very dents and scratches.
“You alright?” The words are a murmur into your flesh. You let him play with your wedding band as your smile softens to the same sensation of warm pelts on a wooden floor.
There was no use telling you to stop your crusades, the Brit knew that. You did what you wanted and damn the consequences; John was stuck with damage control but knew you had the skills and know-how to break all odds. You still held that same fire that the woman he married wore like a crown of fangs without fail.
“Always,” you reassure him, hugging his waist tighter and staring into his eyes.
The both of you lapse into a delicate hold. John’s arms cage you in and you’d have it no other way as fingers drag over warm flesh, never mind the brutal dig of gear or the stain of blood. Neither could keep you away from the other.
“When will you stop making my heart rip out of my chest, Sweetheart?” John asks, smirking down at you. “Trying to give me a heart attack before forty, eh?”
“Oh, please,” you whisper against his lips, eyes alight with mischief as he watches you closely—pulse pounding against yours. He could never be angry at you. “We both know that if you have one, I’ll be having one too. We’ll end up being brain-dead at the same damn time, no doubt.”
He laughs against you lowly, having to pull back to shake his head at your bland confession. “You’re fuckin’ mental, Love.” He breathes in soft puffs of breath. You gaze up at him, laced with affection and care, as he rests his forehead on yours. “Ah, but that’s alright, isn’t it? We’re all a bit crazy.”
“You might be a little bit higher on the metaphorical scale,” you tease, face serious but eyes betraying you. They always would when it came to John; the only person to break through that ‘cunning nuisance’ that everyone always mentioned in your file.
“Really, now?” He blinks, smirking and rubbing at your hip absentmindedly and leaning closer—pushing your neck to the side.
“Just a bit,” you huff, not even realizing.
Before you can utter another word, firm lips capture you like a beast in iron bars, bulky forearms stuck at the curve of your spine. You chirp into John’s mouth in surprise but melt into him as his large purr resonates into your bloodstream. Singing, you bring your hands to his cheeks, digging through those bristles to feel the burn on your hands.
Humming, your husband nuzzles his nose into your cheek like a dog would, letting him take in your scent as you feel your legs go weak. You enjoy the worship he gives you; always would. Your body is tightly held against his own and you gladly would have shown him how much you enjoyed him being here if only for the small fact you needed to talk to Farah.
With one last pass of his reddened lips, you slip back and kiss his bristly cheek with a chuckle.
“Later.”
He groans into you. “Tease.”
“I didn’t even do anything!” You laugh loudly, moving out of his hold to walk into the house as he follows at your heels. John’s hands go to the top of his vest collar to rest.
He leans down and whispers, “Don’t need to, Love.”
Your face burns for him and only him as he grumbles out chuckles at your blown pupils. Huffing, you turn and roll your eyes, trying to dispel your flaming blood. Farah waits for you and with a happy glance up she comes from around the table and claps you on both shoulders. You grunt in surprise but grip her elbows with a laugh.
“Barkov’s remaining cell was wiped out—my soldiers are hunting down the remnants as we speak.” She squeezes your gear and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, Lion, for coming out when you did. The Captain was not wrong in his assessment.”
You turn your head to the side and glance back at John. “Hear that my Love, I’ve heard you talk about me. That’s so precious.”
His face goes red under his beard, and his feet shuffle as you and Farah share a joking glance. John releases under-the-breath grumbles before the Commander addresses him. The woman releases you but speaks past your person.
“Some of my younger soldiers wanted you to mentor them with the use of their weapons, do you plan on staying the night?” You and John share a look, a seeming telepathic communication going on.
He nods at you and you smile. “Only tonight, we ship out at first light. I’ll do what I’m able.”
“Then you also have my thanks. They’ll learn much, I’m sure. Lion,” John comes and gives you a kiss on the cheek before leaving. You watch him go for a moment before rubbing at your dirty neck while you listen to Farah. “Come with me, there’s fresh water on the roof.”
“Oh,” you perk, suddenly realizing the fatigue in your bones and the dryness of your throat. “Thank you, that’d be great.”
As you both ascend the stairs to the roof, there’s a still silence that falls, a calm nothingness. When you finally stand on the flat roof, you look over the vast land as Farah hands you a chilled water bottle from a mini-fridge. You take it with a small nod in thanks.
“Nice view,” you motion with the bottle before taking a long sip—downing half of it in one go.
Farah smiles and hums. “Urzikatan is a beautiful place,” you listen and wipe at your mouth; seeing people walk the streets below as the red sun grows even lower. In the wind, your nose twitches to sand and dust, with some hint of floral notes and arid cleanliness. Farah’s face seeps with a low sadness when she looks out to the land and you pause your drinking. Brows pulling in, you watch her.
“Farah?” You ask, carefully. It’s a moment before she responds.
“I…” She crosses her arms and sets her feet. “I wonder if this place will ever see its freedom. We’ve been fighting for so long already. My family has known war more than anything else.” Brown eyes drift to you from the side of her eye.
There’s a tightness in your chest. You can’t imagine what Farah feels right now, what she has felt. Years of this…and still her home is under foreign subjugation. A frown grows on your face and you put the half-full bottle to the small wooden table near the roof’s corner.
“You’ll get your sovereignty, Farah.” You try your best to speak your mind to the woman but remain truthful to your belief. Farah stares out as you sigh lowly. “Maybe not now—maybe not in this generation—but someday the sun is going to set on a free Urzikatan. You’re plenty strong enough to assure that and you’ve done a proper job so far. The frames are already set.”
The Commander hums and gazes at her soldiers below as they mull about, laughing with each other and enjoying the company of their fellow countrymen.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like?” Farah asks you, and you study her genuine interest in her own thoughts. “Who we would be if nothing ever happened to us.”
You stare for a moment, skull tilting down to gaze at the top of the roof. It’s not an easy question to answer.
“Sometimes,” your lips admit. Farch eagerly pivots to your form like you hold the greatest answer imaginable. She’s been through so much—losing her family, and her home. Humming, your eyes shift to the setting sun; blinking at it. Against all of this, your lips flinch up into a smile. “But not often.”
Farah’s eager gaze turns confused, her brows furrowing deeply with a scrunched face.
“Because right here, right now,” John walks down the street below, and your eyes fall to him as easily as a leaf dances to the ground. The expression on your face eases. “It couldn’t have happened if there were never bad days.” Your husband looks up, and you see him pause among the ranks of other fighters. You chuckle softly, head tilting to the side.
John stares at you as if you’re the only person to exist, moving one hand from his vest to jerk two fingers in a subtle greeting. Farsh watches the interaction closely, tension loosening from her body. Your head nods slowly to your husband and you say to the woman, absent-minded, “I’m right where I need to be…And the sun has never looked brighter.”
Farah huffs a laugh, eyes running back and forth between the two of you.
“He loves you,” she says, “deeply.”
“God,” your laugh echoes, “I sure hope so.” The both of you laugh.
It felt easy to speak to the Commander, truthfully. Being surrounded by four men all of the time can get catty even with such a strong bond as you had with One-Four-One.
You dare to share more.
"In my mind, John and I are still in Hertfordshire for our wedding,” The words come out of you slowly, unwrapping emotions one layer at a time as if swaddled in a dark veil of internal nostalgia. You watch John as he walks along, oddly sad but filled with something that makes you want to take him up into your arms with a wet laugh. “Sitting back on the grassy hills outside of town in my gown and him in his tux. The wind is cold…but neither of us can find it in ourselves to shiver. The sun's setting on our heads and making everything glow gold. His fingers are running through my hair…” You pause and hear Farah’s soft breath in the air, but you don’t look at her. Your eyes stay stuck on one person only. “When I die,” your words continue, “I can't ask for anything more than just a glimpse of that again. Just a flicker of that hill. Of those blue eyes looking into mine. I don't think it would be all that bad if I could live in that moment for senseless eternity. If I could live in it for only one second."
John looks back at you from over his shoulder, your form shrouded in the setting sun as he slowly walks away from you. You gaze with melted eyes, the ring around your neck shining all the brighter.
“I’m right where I need to be,” finishing, you turn your glossy eyes to Farah, who stares with a wide pull to her lids. “And you need to believe that even if you never get to see that freedom—that hill—you’ll make sure someone else can climb it just an inch farther.”
It’s a long moment before Farah answers.
“The both of you will do this until one of you dies, hm?” You blink before you shrug.
“Not one.” Your tone is easy, and John’s shadow turns a corner; out of sight. “I’d never let him go without me.”
TAGS:
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#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#cod mw22#mw2#call of duty#mw2 2022#call of duty mw2#x female reader#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#captain johnathan price#john price fic#captain john price#john price#captain price#cod mwii#john price x you#john price x reader#cod fanfic#cod mw2#mw2 x reader#mw2 fanfic#price mw2#price cod#cod price#modern warfare x you#modern warfare x reader#modern warfare#cod fandom
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Given that Belobog is so full of snow, I'm kinda sad we never get to see any snowmen anywhere. Like that would have made for such a cute bg decoration!
And I think it would be especially funny for Sampo to make them, not out of pure, innocent whimsy and joy, but like specifically to be a menace smzhnsjd
Like Gepard keeps finding little snowmen out around the frontlines. And normally he would just turn a blind eye to this like he does with other things (like the shitty amateur distillery no one thinks he knows about); war sucks, their own damn leader is trying to kill them and Gepard is treading water just trying to keep Cocolia from using his guards as cannon fodder. If his soldiers want to make some snowmen in their downtime, then they should be allowed that. God knows they've earned it.
BUT SOMEONE IS MAKING SNOWMEN THAT LOOK LIKE HIM, DAMMIT!!!
Gepard keeps finding them down the back alleys and more hidden parts of the frontlines! And they all have the same grumpy little face, with blue-painted rocks for eyes and sometimes even gold-colored bullet casings for hair! And he knows who it is the second he finds another little blue haired, green eyed snowman next to it! Fuckin' Koski is sneaking in here, and easily enough that he has the time to taunt him!
Gepard once found a little Snow Geppie with angry eyebrows and red roses stuck in its blushing cheeks that was handcuffed to a weapons rack, which was when he realized someone had pickpocketed his handcuffs. He punches the head clean off the little Snow Sampo nearby, only to discover that it is also holding his wallet, minus all the shield he'd had in it that morning. Gepard kicks it for good measure.
One time he found a little Snow Sampo offering roses to a little Snow Geppie, and he quickly knocked those over too before anyone else could see them or his red face. He swears he can feel Sampo snickering and mocking him nearby.
Sometimes, Gepard finds little Snow Sampos with tiny sacks thrown over their shoulders, all filled with items that are SUPPOSED to be in the depths of the guarded Silvermane storehouses. Sampo technically isn't even stealing anything, he's just showing Gepard that he could if he wanted to, and poor Gepard is going to pop an aneurysm.
Pela: Good morning, Captain. Have you been outside of your tent yet?
Gepard: No. ....Why.
Pela: No reason. Say, have you heard of any break ins recently?
Gepard: No, why.
And Pela holds open the tent flap and there's a ton of tiny little Silvermane Guards snowmen in tight neat rows, all with their little stick arms up in salute, and each one with an actual, stolen official helmet-mask.
Pela: You run a real tight ship out here, huh.
Gepard: (looooong weary muffled sigh as he drags a hand down his face)
#gepo#sampard#hsr gepard#hsr sampo#sampo koski#gepard landau#pelageya sergeyevna#hsr#honkai star rail#I love Sampo being petty as shit just to rile Geppie up fkdsajflasdj#like he is absolutely watching from somewhere hidden nearby and snickering to himself#of a related note I think Caelus and March 7th should be given those little plastic mold thingies that make rubber ducky-shapes in the snow#they go through the restricted zone and just leave them in random places#Gepard trying to conduct serious military business and up on the wall behind him are a row of rubber duckies judging the Guards fjklasjfkld
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Tom Bennett + 42! I literally used an online number generator for maximum game-ification
Plain Jane REMIX ft Nicki Minaj - 'suck a ***** dick or something'
Tom Bennett x unnamed sailor - dirty talk, allusions to oral, man on man action
The sailor gives Tom a tight-lipped smile, before walking past him. “Let me know next time you need a hand. Or a mouth.”
Infuriatingly, the words slide over Tom’s skin like silk, making it difficult to retort. He clears his throat. “You should be so lucky.”
“Yeah. That’s the hope.”
That tryst was three days ago now. Tom rolls over in his bunk with a clenched jaw, and decides enough is enough. His cock is hard, and his stomach sick with want.
Back to the dining hall he goes in the depths of the calm night. He glances over the edge of the ship as he slinks silently along. Below, the inky water laps gently against the hull. How good it would be to be back home. He wonders if the woman from the dock would welcome her back into her company. How warm her thighs were, how wet she got. Trying to remember her face is pointless. Can't even remember the colour of her eyes. Brown? Blue? Black? Green? Doesn't matter. He lost himself in them that night. The ocean offers no oblivion. Not the same kind, at least.
"Hello, Tommy."
Tom's lip twitches. "Been waiting for me?"
The sailor, sitting at a table in the shadows, laughs quietly. "Would you like that?"
"Don't bother me none either way."
"Well, you've got your choice tonight." The sailor shifts slightly and his face is caught in a sliver of light from outside. He's grinning, and then he nods his head towards the far side of the hall. Tom peers through the darkness, and after a moment he sees the figures of three men. He holds his breath, and through the quiet, the sighs and noises of wet mouths fills his ears.
His lip twitches again. Perhaps once, it would have turned his stomach, but he supposes that now, as he's already fucked a man, it shouldn't bother him as much. That being said, he did think about a girl the whole time.
"Sure they wouldn't mind you joining."
"Nah, I'm alright, thanks. Just looking for one mouth. All them look a bit preoccupied, don't you think?" Tom retorts.
"Yeah, a bit."
"So." He pauses for a moment. "You free?"
"I ain't gonna charge you."
Tom actually sniggers at that. "Ain't got nowt to pay you with, anyway."
"Saving up for a whore in Argentina?" he teases. Tom glances down, and sees the strain against the man's boilersuit.
"I don't gotta pay for it, here or on land."
"That much I believe." The sailor stands up and walks slowly to him. He reaches for the buttons on Tom's suit and watches his face. "Tell me what you want, Tommy."
The girl on the dock. His sister's smile. A proper pint. Even his dad, who doesn't laugh at his jokes. Nah, don't think about that, not now. Don't get soft. "What y'good at?"
"Everything."
Behind them, soft moans are choked back by the three men. Unseen movements become quicker, more desperate. There are butterflies in Tom's stomach.
"How's your mouth?"
"Not as loud as yours."
Tom grins again, and when the other man leans in to kiss his neck, he allows it. The man's stubble tickles his skin, and his lips are hard, but he closes his eyes and thinks of her - any her he's even been with, really - it makes him throb. "Use it properly, then."
"You can do better than that," comes a whisper in his ear.
"What?"
"Say it properly."
"You want me to talk dirty to you?"
The sailor bites just below his collar. "Just once. You owe me."
Teeth make him shiver but he smiles. "Alright." He drops his voice slightly, and runs a brave hand through the man's hair. It feels strange, hair this short, but it's the least he can do. "I want you to get on your fuckin' knees. I want you to put my cock in your mouth like it's the last time you'll ever get a taste of it. And I want you to suck me off until the only thing I know is the name of the Heavenly Father. Can you do that for me?"
His mouth hangs open slightly, and he nods. "Uh- yeah. I can do that."
"Good g-" good girl. "Lad. Good lad. Go on then. Get on with it."
He does as he's told, and quickly. Tom's head drops back, and he fights back moans.
God, he misses girls - but no one has sucked him like this jolly sailor bold.
#tom bennett x reader#tom bennett x you#tom bennett x oc#tom bennett x male reader#ask#mine#troublesomesnitch
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could you do some aaron t/aaron z headcanons pls!
omg yes ofc !! ty for the request <333 since 3 ppl requested aaron² hc's (nothing specific) im gonna put all ur requests into this once post !!
tags: @i-need-a-slurpee @hrts4ariana ( note as of writing: this was a draft from 1719817282 years ago so if u forgot abt this n no longer wanted to be tagged im sorry🥲 )
as i mentioned in this post, they both adore musicals, especially hamilton
aaron² hc's !!
reblogs appreciated + reqs open <3
they like listening to the soundtracks together when they hangout
sometimes when there's a musical near where they are on tour they go together in their free time
u didn't hear it from me but they held hands during one of these musicals bc the room was dark n they thought noone would notice
as bros, ofc.. homies hold hands during musicals !!
they totally sing non-stop from hamilton together its cannon bc i say so
anyway enough abt hamilton for now
there was def mutual pining
they were both like "fuckidishcoaoxjaoa he just thinks of me as a friend"
"friend" NO HE WANTS U SO BAD -God probably idk
the way they attempted to "drop hints":
t tried to make z laugh a lot, even more than he usually did
pranks became less extreme than they normally were, he wanted to surprise him, not scare him to death like he used to
z would, although he denies this, try to do basketball tricks to impress t whenever he is at the basketball court w him
both of them went to jesse for advice, not knowing the other was doing the same
"hey jesse uhm- what should i do if, theoretically, ihavearlybigcrushonsomeonewhoiveknownforawhilebutithinktheyseemeasafriendandireallyreallyREALLYwannabemorebutidontwannaruinourfriendship????" -t
"...what?" -jesse
needless to say jesse was confused as hell
he sent him off w some advice after t slowed down enough for him to understand, then about 15 minutes later z came rambling about the same thing
"JESSE YOU'RE A HIT WITH THE LADIES, AND THE GAYS, AND..BASICALLY ANYONE. HOW DO I FLIRT WITH SOMEONE IVE KNOWN FOR AGES WHO IM PRETTY SURE SEES ME AS JUST A FRIEND?????" -z
thats what made it click for jesse, n he just laughed at the realization
giving him the same advice he gave t, he snickered at the idea of the aarons having a crush on eachother but being too stupid blind to see the feelings were mutual
"thanks jess!!" -z to jesse, running off
"yeah no problem man hehehshshehsh goodluck! HEHEHHEHE"
building up as much courage as he could, z eventually made the first move a few days later
he asked t if he'd like to join him for a musical that would take place at a nearby theater, n he gladly accepted
little did t know where this would lead <33 achoo anyways
as the lights dimmed during a 'romantic' scene, aaron z took t's hand in his own n (quietly) confessed his feelings towards his long-time bestfriend
saying t was happy would be an understatement
the energetic boy yanked him into a hug, leaving his stoic counterpart(ner) highly confused and extremely flustered
choking from t's tight embrace, his face became beet red
"Im, uhm- assuming you feel the same?"
well NO FUCKIN WAY SHERLOCK WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT -God again probably
"yeah dumbass, ofcourse i do!" t whisper-yelled, trying to keep his excitement down as they were still in a theater after all !!!
after that, z just smiled n wrapped his arms around t's waist, returning the hug
but wait !! theres more !!
what kind of ikissjesse ship post would this be without cute couple hc's ???
the quiet stoic boy x loud energetic boy dynamic UUGF MY HEART I THINK IM DYIBG from how much i love this duo😔😔
z buys t a baseball cap in EVERY city/country they go to. every fucking one
even if its not a band tour, if z is out somewhere n sees a cool cap he thinks t would like, yall better believe this boy would cut off an arm n sell a kidney just for t to get that hat
t has a whole side in his closet dedicated to these hats z buys him, he finds it absolutely adorable
z actually thinks he isnt good at gift giving, so he was afraid t wouldnt like it at first, but t's reaction is enough conformation that he adores it
now what kinda aaron² hamilton lover truther would i be if i didnt mention the musical again 💪💪
they have FREQUENT hamilton marathons together, sometimes the other members of 4*town will join in too !!
they still sortve act like they did before, like friends n what not
however theyre also 300% more flirty
by that i mean T is 300% more flirty
z might be a LITTLE bit but def not as much as my boy aaron t (the r in aaron stands for rizzler -aaron t)
z isn't a big fan of PDA himself, however when t does little displays of affection when theyre in public he loves it ( he doesn't say it out loud bc he's shy but he does smile at t or to himself, holding t's hand or draping an arm over his shoulders )
when theyre in private z will hug t from behind, hold his waist, kiss his forehead, etc .... yk... bro stuff......
t surprises him by going BOO!!! and jumping up to put his arms around his shoulders from behind, which at first scared z shitless n earned t a lecture about why he shouldn't scare him like that bc z WILL swing but z is okay with it now n actually smiles ALBEIT A VERY SMALL SMILE when he does it
dates include but r not limited to playing basketball late at night together, movies, watching musicals, roadtrips to literally anywhere long or short they just wanna be in eachothers presence OUGHG I LOVE THEM
i forgot to mention !!! t is definitely the one who asked to be boyfriends, but z accidentally said "I love you" first
t was doing something dumb again, and z shook his head as he laughed, accidentally mumbling the words "I love you" out loud
t stopped dead in his tracks n snapped his head in z's direction, n yall this boy was STRESSED he did NOT mean to let the world know this information
z covered his face with his hands n his face was PINK pink bro but t just laughed n walked over to him, cupping his face in his hands and staring at him with a very VERY smug but genuine n happy grin
z scoffed, but soon glanced back at the other boy and smiled shyly
theyre so cute im throwing up in class
there's more but i think this is long enough for now, sorry for the wait pls snack on this while u wait for the rest of my jesro + aaron² content i have planned WINK WINK
thank u for reading <3
#4town#turning red#4townie#4town aaron z#4town aaron t#aaron²#aaron t x aaron z#turning red headcanons#4town headcanons
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|| Home. || riptide :D || Oliver teach angst<3 ||
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
- title obviously taken from cavetown lol
⁃ (kinda of) POV from Ollie’s notebook!
⁃ Ollie “fanfic”
⁃ JRWI riptide spoilers!!! (All episodes involving ollie)
⁃ Sigh I miss them… grebo please bring them home </3
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
TW!!:
⁃ Blood / gorey
⁃ Stabbing / “self harm”
⁃ Skin(?)
⁃ Mention of dead bodies
⁃ Curses
⁃ Abandonment issues
⁃ “Running away” from home
•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•
“You’re not supposed to be here…” A tall muscular man covered in tattoos, grabbing the small elvin boy he found by the collar his shirt. “I’m hiding from my mom… She’ll probably hate me now.” Closing more in on himself. Like a scared kitten. The tall man places him on his feet and brushing off the miscellaneous dust and grime from his shoulders. “Well kid, looks like she’ll be upset for a while… We’ve been out at sea for 2 weeks now!” Smacking the kids back with a loud chuckle. The elvin boys face melts, immediately cracks and breaks waterfalls free from his eyes. “Come on, I could use the help around the ship!” Grabbing his shoulders and taking him out from the belly of the ship. Onto the top deck , viewing the light. His eyes closed, adjusting to the new light reopening reveals a new world for him to explore. New opportunities in Mana. Off Zero. No bullies. No rules. Just freedom. Guiding the kid over to the railing. “We’re far from home, kid. If I’d realize soon-…” a tight squeeze at his hips. His shirt continues to grow more and more damp. Using his left arm to hug him back, or watching the sun fall behind the distant islands they’ve yet to explore.
“We’ll get you home, kid.”
First blood. The blood drawn was from a child. A bloody and agonizing pain. Our elvin boy lets out of scream at Chip for help as he falls on his stomach flat on the deck. His eyes slowly closing, barely able to see his Chip sprints forward. A new passion, burning in his eyes. Faint fire glows sparks from said passion. The elvin boy’s consciousness fading quick distance screams from Chip as he gets held up and cradled. This is it. Stabbed and killed by a goblin. At 15 years old. Stranded at sea. Stabbed by a fuckin’ goblin. His brain begins to show slow memories of the crew. Desire island. The compass in his pocket. His wish is finally coming true. He gets to go home. A breath of fresh air fails his lungs. New life given to this boy. Still being cradled. Piles of goblins scattered the ship. Blood trickles down the helm of the ship from the one who’s neck had been cut open from Chip’s double swords. “OLLIE! OLIVER, PLEASE! SAY SOMETHING KID.” Chip screamed down at him. Still shaken up and unable to respond.His tears falling down his cheeks, face covered in dark red wine. Freshly dripping on the elvin boys cheek. A warm feeling, fills his wound. Green energy, fills it in and peels the skin back together. Leaving a permanent, thick, scar on the small boy. His shoulder had been patched very poorly with a wrap under his armpit. His eyes still faulter from the light, just as before. His lights did go out. He was carried to bed just as his mother would’ve done. Chip took Ollie to the crew’s sleeping quarters where he attempted to sleep. He tried. The compass vibrated and glowed like a nightlight his eyes fixated on the silly compass. It brought him comfort. His wish to go home after everything that had happened grew. The room glowed once more. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted to go home…
“I’ll get you home, kid.”
He felt taller now… more important than he was when he was small. His chin has stubble like chip. He’s wearing Chip’s old clothes for now. The next island is a while away. His skin is stretched more than it supposed too for a kid his age. Running away from the robot police and getting a new crewmember in the process was certainly new. Is this what growing up feels like? Would he finally be able to make Marshall John proud? He gets to help the crew more. He can go on the big missions now he’s a grown-up. Instead of staying on the ship with Earl. Well now… Without Earl.
“They’ll getcha home kid…”
We’re going home. We’re going home…? But he doesn’t want to go home yet. This is his crew his new home. He doesn’t need to go back. Mom would want him back… Right? Would she still be upset about him running away? It’s been months…years? Maybe… The days blend at Sea. Like Drey always says! Do you think mom will be upset? Or Mr. Rico? Do you think he misses me baking with him? … I think I want to go home. I do miss Mr. Rico with the captains be disappointed if he left?
Back at zero seems weird to say… Leaving the ship feels freeing somehow but also wrong like he’s not supposed to be here yet. Placing his shoes on the wooden dock, the place felt bigger since he left even his short and height looking up toward the new buildings, a new grander water fountain in the middle of the town, all of ollie’s memories from this place grow stronger quicker and higher upward. He was home. The rest of the cruise slowly hikes behind him as he ran around his new home so much has happened since he left a revolution rebuilding even more deaths than on the sea. Barely 4 days on this island and so much has happened. A festival, seeing his mom again, stopping ruffians from hurting the innocent, helping Enza with her haunted house, building a pool in said haunted house, … Gillion stabbing himself …, chip is such an inspiring leader. I want to be just like him when I grow up.
Why’re they leaving? Why can’t they stay? I don’t understand what this ‘black sea’ is about. Who is Arlin?
I don’t want them to leave. His eyes, water and bubble as the whole town of zero walks down the hills to the docks. The more in view the albatross becomes the more and more tears fall from the small boy. Why did Marshall John leave? Why do I always get lefted behind? His shoes returned to the one dock. Just him and Mr. Rico walked down to the edge near their boat all their memories flood back to little Oliver. Then blowing up the captains boat, having a “book club” with Chip, saving islands, meeting new people, the compass, gaining a crewmembers, helping Chip defeat, his nightmares, playing tag on the deck being comforted while missing home… but now he was “home”. But he doesn’t want to go anymore. He found his new home with the captains. I can’t just leave them. They’re my family. Well, thinking the albatross becomes alive again, Alphonse returns. He smiles, and the tears buffer a second before the captains file off the ship to say their goodbyes. Jay kneels down to ollie’s height, rubbing his hair like she always did “we’ll see you soon Oliver…“ her eyes clearly watering. Trying to put on a brave face, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a necklace, orange red and aqua blue gems tied on a fine string matching swirls decorate the outside of the gems. Ollie holds up his hair as she ties it around his neck, placing his cheek and standing up and smiles before turning and walking away onto the ship. Straight into Drey’s chest. Wrapping her arms around his unused. Resting his head on her shoulders for a slight comfort. Gillion walks up next. Grabbing ollie and picking him up for a hug they hug for a while. Gillion talks about their destiny to meet once more. He tries to listen, but all he can see is shit behind him. He holding something tight during Ollie dead in the eyes. Tears trying to hold themselves back to seem confident and secure. Gill holds up Pretzel to say goodbye as she jumps out of her bowl onto his shoulders, then transferring to ollie’s hand for a hug, putting her tentacles around his neck. Letting out a incoherent blurble of sadness. Ollie’s tears do begin to fall now. Pretzel has become Ollie‘s friend throught their journey. Whenever they were on the ship, they would be playing chess, or playing hide and seek. Like normal kids, like nothing else in the world was happening. They let go placing their foreheads on each others before, placing her into the bowl at gillion’s hip. Placing a hand in Chip’s shoulder then walking back onto the ship. Leaving him and chip just staring at each other, left alone on the dock.
Chip’s eyes fall under themselves. Walking over and kneeling. Placing a hand on ollie‘s shoulder, looking up at him as he plays with his hair in his hands. “You’re home now, Oliver.. sorry it took so long.” he chuckles to himself. Taking a breath and placing a hand on his cheek. Home? … home. He felt another hand be placed on his head. Mr. Rico! “– Well, you better be on your way you have a long journey.”
No… not yet please not yet! “…someone gave me this, a long time ago. You’ve probably seen me messing with it–“ another chuckle, but it seems forced to this time . Along breath of silence exits the captain. “Here!“ Taking his hand off his cheek and towards his ear to pull out a golden coin. he laughs suffocating his tears, pulling out the young boys hand and curling his knuckles around said coin. “I want you to keep it. We will be back, ollie. We got you home, kid. That’s all that matters.” With the coin firmly in the boys hand he stands up and to walk off. A tight squeeze around his leg. Like he did for Arlin. “Please! Please, let me be a pirate!” his young voice echoes throughout his own head. Turning again, the small boy hugging his pant leg, holds him in place. Both pirates tears begin to crash on the deck. Their knees buckling beneath them.. “Chip! I’m sorry to break the moment but we’re kinda on a time crunch here!!” Jay screams down at the boys. Chip laughs. “Alright, alright! I have to go now kid.” Ruffing up his hair again. Sniffing and wiping his tears. Standing back up as Chip raised his hand and put a hand over his heart. “I do solemnly swear.” Mr. Rico sighs and crosses his arms. Ollie copying his motion. “I do solemnly swear.” The small boy replied. “To fuck shit up!” “To fuck shit up!!” Oliver screamed back at his captain. Like the first time they had done this initiation. “To help those in need.” Mr. Rico softens a bit. “To help those in need!” Ollie smiles up at Chip, tears still falling down their cheeks. “And to be the best goddamn pirates anyone has ever seen.” Both say in unison. They look at each other for a while. Before embracing once more. Playing with his hard one last time. One last time? No, no, no, no, NO! They can’t leave yet! Stuck in place as he watches them sail off without him. Tears continue to fall as Mr. Rico grabs his shoulder as a distant home is replaced by an old one. Fiddling with his new trinket, he walks back up to zero. Praying for his captains safety.
#jrwi#jrwi show#jrwi fanart#eating this shit up#jrwi riptide#jrwi ollie#oliver teach#<3#I miss the small boy they kept on the ship#beastmode#albatrio#Albatrio angst#PAIN#ANGST#DISPAIR#AGONY
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I'm bored, so have a (possibly) triggering first chapter look-see of my Ouizzy fic "A Dance With The Devil" that I'm gonna post. I plan to rewrite it to be more canon-accurate but also throw in a little personal spice since I love writing angst.
Also! For those of you who happen to read it anyways, I'd absolutely LOVE some feedback. (That includes the negative feedback. I don't get better unless it's given, and I strive to better my writing). Alright, let me put the trigger warning so we can be prepared!
TW/CW: implied/explicitly expressed abuse, canon typical violence, panic attack, mild aggression, and mentioned amputation and consumption of a toe.
⚠️Reader's discretion is advised.⚠️
Chap 1: Izzy's Torment.
Edward was in a horrid mood again.
Well, Blackbeard.
As typical, Izzy tried keeping things running as smoothly as possible, only speaking when spoken to and snapping orders at the crew if any were caught slacking. He spent the majority of his day limping around the deck, weight leaned on his cane. His foot fucking hurt, and the bandages around it chafed and caused the somewhat healing wound to open and bleed.
Izzy bites back a curse. Literally just a week ago when Blackbeard returned from being willingly captured by the English, Izzy had been force-fed his toe. He remembered that night with very little fondness despite the relieving excitement that coursed through him seeing that dark, malicious glare from Blackbeard. He swallowed thickly, once again reliving having to consume a piece of himself. How fucking poetic.
Leaning against the railing of the Revenge, Izzy stared out into the expanse of water surrounding the ship. The sun was hanging high in the sky, beating down on the deck in exhausting heat. He pulls away, sighing roughly and turned heel towards the lower decks to check in on the crew, to make sure they weren't slacking. They had a tight schedule, and Izzy made sure of it so they would stay busy.
As he descended, he could hear soft murmurs and hurried conversations before they went completely silent. Izzy's stony glare cast over the crew as they stand awkwardly in a circle, eyes directed at the ground as if in submission. Maybe it was genuine submission- that's all Izzy had disciplined into them in his fourteen hour power-trip when Edward was gone.
"What's with all of this... nonsense? Having a little chat with each other? Talking feelings?" Izzy rasps in lilting sarcasm, leaning on his cane with a scowl. No one responds, all except Jim. Their eyes remained trained on the ground, something unusual and out of character to their normally intense glare.
"We need an intervention." Their voice was slow but sure, and then the intense stare strays to Izzy. There was a small shock that ran through him, so subtle he wasn't sure it even happened. He nods his head upwards, chin slightly higher in curiosity.
“An intervention, ay? Ed wouldn't be too fond of that.” Izzy points out, tapping his cane against the floorboards to emphasize it. He sauntered forward, his scowl turning softer. “It's suicide to try and talk him out of this.”
“Still- it'd be better. For all of us.” Frenchie piped in, nervously looking anywhere that wasn't the shorter-statured man. Izzy had noticed the bard was very iffy about eye contact, fluctuating between a hard stare and no eye contact at all. The first-mate didn't know what to make of it, and instead decided it wasn't worth his time- knowing Stede Bonnet's crew, they'd have Izzy soft-side up and forcefully coddled like he was part of their crew. Part of them.
“Get back to work. Fuckin’ useless twats.” Izzy snarled, turning away. A deeper part of him knew that Jim was right- hell, even Frenchie! Of all people, excluding Jim, Frenchie actually had a point- one stating that sitting idly by would only make things worse. Izzy would never admit it, even in his dying breath that he agreed with Stede fucking Bonnet's maniac of a bard. Shame worms its way up Izzy's spine, settling in the center of his chest like a weight in his ribcage.
He… wanted to mutiny against Blackbeard. The one thing Izzy swore his life to uphold the name of, and here he was regretting his choices. A sickening feeling sits ominously idle in his gut, like a viper waiting to strike… waiting until Izzy is distracted. The first-mate swallowed back the rising pain in his throat, stalking off to the top deck and not even waiting to see if the crew listened.
He found himself below deck in his cabin. He was pacing the cramped room, hands tangled in his graying hair, trying to calm the raging storm of emotions in his mind. Izzy was never one for emotions, always keeping them bottled up until they all came out in spiteful insults and barked orders. Right now was not one of those times.
In a swift attempt of releasing his pent up self-destructive loathing, he grabbed a stool and threw it against the wall, the wood exploding into splintering shrapnel as it made impact. Izzy let out a strained shout, heaving in breaths as his attempt of control became vain. He had never let the thought of mutiny cross his mind.
“Fuck. Fuck!” Izzy growls, sitting roughly on his rickety cot and burying his face in his hands. He was sure his death was imminent if Blackbeard heard any whisper or word of possible opposition. The crew would die alongside Izzy if they didn't cower to the Kraken's absolutely mental demands and pressuring emotional manipulation.
Izzy Hands wanted to turncoat on Blackbeard, the man- no, the myth- he helped create. To break the promise he had made so long ago that it became the very air he breathed to upkeep. All for just a little taste of comfort in a trying time that won't last. He was stupid for letting himself be so… invested in the damn crew. How they felt, how they saw him, how they fucking bitched and moaned about how horrible Blackbeard treated them and yet, Izzy understood. How, he'd never know and even if he did, he'd never tell.
Of all people, Israel Hands understood their pain. Of all things, he could empathize with their distaste and wariness of Blackbeard's volatile behavior. The only grace Izzy gave the crew was being the one who took the brunt of all of the Kraken's anger and physical violence. And he wanted it. He deserved it.
A strangled sob left him, his heart hammering in his chest as his throat felt like it was closing. The walls felt like they were closing, his vision tunneling into the abysmal darkness of his own mind, eating away at whatever control he had garnered before it all went black. Silent. His body ached, his chest tightened and he couldn't breathe. He blindly grabs at his shirt, the collar, ripping at his clothes just for some air. Another noise left him as his struggles proved fruitless and he felt suffocated in the weight of this newfound desire to flee. To run from his past, his choices, his actions.
And as if it were as sudden as it set in, he calmed. His breathing was still yet heavy and sharp, sweat soaking his brow and clothes. He was shaking, hands gripping the front of his leather vest like his life was on the line. And it was. If he even told Ed about any of this, he'd lose another toe- no, his entire foot, maybe his life. He inhaled sharply, shakily. He had to set this right.
Whatever it was he needed to do, he'd do it. He stiffly removed his hands from his shirt, gingerly flexing his fingers to get feeling back into them. Smoothing back his disheveled hair and wiping his forehead with his sleeve, he took in a steadier breath. He'd steel himself, force back all of this panic and anguish and become Izzy Hands again. Cold, stoic, and damn near emotionless. Calculated- not some emotional disaster who couldn't even fathom not being dependent on his captain.
#blackbeard ofmd#ouizzy ofmd#ofmd s2#ofmd#jim ofmd#frenchie ofmd#ofmd izzy#izzy hands#israel hands#our flag means death#our flag means death fanfic#author is in fact an izzy apologist#ofmd angst#ed teach slanderer#gentlebeard is toxic do not even try to argue it because i will end you with psychology and film analysis#izzy deserved better#frenchie is definitely going to be the “better” he deserves
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work in progress wednesday - three months post-rescue
“Hijo de puta –“
Jim’s snarled curse has Oluwande running the last few steps onto the deck, his heart suddenly racing. How did he miss an attack, did a ship sneak up to raid them, how –
He sees Jim and stops short. They are fighting. But it’s just Ivan, who’s caught them in a big bear hug as Jim tries to wiggle free. Pete and Lucius are watching, while Roach lounges nearby with Jim’s hat over his face, snoozing in the bright sun. Everything is calm. No one is freaking out.
With a victorious cry Jim elbows Ivan in the gut and wiggles free. They dance back out of reach, laughing at the way Ivan grabs for them.
“Wily little shit,” Ivan pants back, and if it weren’t for the massive grin on his face Oluwande might be worried. “Your elbows are too fuckin’ pointy.”
“Verified weapons in their own right,” Lucius calls, scribbling something in his book. Or maybe sketching, from the way he keeps eyeing Roach. “Their knees are, too.”
Oluwande’s heart rate starts to slow. He rubs a hand against his chest, willing the tightness away, and stays just out of view.
“I’m coming for you next,” Jim threatens, never taking their eyes off Ivan. They’re settled in that loose, easy stance, and when Ivan lunges forward to swipe at them again they duck out of his way, batting his hand aside. And then it’s a flurry of quick blows between them – none hard enough to do damage. That had been Roach’s rule. ‘Hurt Jim after we just fixed them and I’ll hurt you’. Or something like that.
“Sure you are,” Lucius snorts. “I’ll just cry and you’ll stop. You’re a pushover now, Jimenez.”
Jim turns and starts towards him, voice rising in a curse. Ivan takes the opening, lunging in to wrap Jim in another hold before they can make it more than three steps. Lucius laughs, Jim curses, and the spar turns into a wrestling match.
Oluwande slips onto the deck when Jim’s back is to him, finding a seat beside Lucius and Pete. Somehow Jim is wrapped around Ivan’s neck now, clinging to his shoulders and threatening to cut his head off. There’s no knife in their hand. Ivan is threatening right back, something about a disembowelment.
“Oh, hey.” Lucius smiles at Oluwande as he settles, then goes back to his drawing. Sure enough, it’s Roach, long limbs stretched out and sun dappling on Jim’s hat that covers his face. There’s one of Pete too, mouth open as if arguing, and a few tiny, blurry ones of Jim and Ivan fighting. “Come to watch?”
Oluwande shrugs. “Sure.” When Lucius and Pete both give him a look he sighs, and lowers his voice so Jim won’t hear. “Heard Jim yell. Got worried.” He smiles as Ivan and Jim tumble to the ground. “They seem fine, though.”
Lucius eyes him. “They do. And you?”
He knows what Lucius is asking. It must be so bloody obvious how much he’s worried about them. He feels like a mother hen, sometimes, always hovering. But he’s trying. Neither of them are ready to retire. So they have to figure out a way to live with the risk that this life will always carry.
“Getting there.”
In the middle of the deck Jim and Ivan finally separate. They bump fists, then Ivan sprawls in a patch of shade and accepts the cup Fang hands him. Jim finally notices Oluwande. The way their face brightens sends warmth spreading through every part of him.
Jim wanders over and plops down beside him. Limbs loose, sweat shining on their cheeks and collarbone. They’re starting to gain back the weight that they lost.
“Hey,” they say, grinning and shaking sweaty hair out of their face. “Thought you were going over maps.”
Oluwande stretches out his feet and rests one against their calf, smiling back. “Finished a few minutes ago. Came to see the show.”
“Oh yeah?” Jim curls their hand around his ankle, two fingers and thumb warm against his skin. “Just in time to see Ivan lose?”
“It was a bloody tie!” Ivan protests from across the deck. “We both agreed!”
“Hey, that’s what you said hombre, I never agreed!”
Ivan makes a grumbling noise and gives Jim a rude gesture. “Rematch tomorrow?”
“Sí, sí. I’ll kick your ass, man.”
“Sure you will.”
Jim laughs and turns back to Oluwande. Their face turns sly. The grip on his ankle turns into a caress. “So if you’re done with the maps now… ¿Quieres ir a tener sexo?”
His heart beats a little faster in a good way, this time. Oluwande nods, a foolish grin spreading across his face. “Absolutamente.”
Jim clambers to their feet and holds out a hand for him. “Vamos entonces, guapo.”
“You know we understand enough Spanish now to know when you’re going off to fuck,” Lucius says drily. “You don’t have to hide it.”
Heat rises to Oluwande’s cheeks as he lets Jim pull him to his feet. They’re getting strong again. “Yeah, well, maybe we like to pretend that not everyone knows all of our business, okay?”
“Mhm, sure you do. Have nice sex,” he sing songs. Pete starts laughing beside him.
Jim rolls their eyes and pulls Oluwande towards their cabin. "Idiotas."
The door shuts behind them, and they turn and pull him into a kiss - and he forgets all about the worries of before.
(AN: this is part of a longer WIP that's a follow up to a ficlet in which Jim gets captured by the british and tortured a little. It's a lot of healing and h/c. And will hopefully be done soon!)
#jim jimenez#oluwande boodhari#tealoranges#jim x oluwande#ofmd fanfic#our flag means death fanfic#tragicallynerdy writes#work in progress wednesday#on an actual wednesday no less!!!
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In the Heart of the Flames Chapter (NSFW) Synopsis: Jinjer gets to show off a new talent and runs into someone from her past.
Additional Tags: AFABReader, She/Her Pronouns, oral (giving and recieving) MDNI
WC: 3500+
Available on AO3 (can't get it to link)
Wire squeezed your hand as you took a deep breath before he opened his door. The hallway was clear but you heard the distinct voices of your bar group on the deck. They were all teasing Papas about something when you and Wire finally breached the doorway to the deck.
“Oh, Jingie! Look at you!” Quincy was the first to spot you two. You smiled and blushed.
Papas just whistled. Kid stepped towards you but Killer pushed him out of the way and made it to you first.
“Your eyes are brighter and your smile is sweeter. Your new found confidence looks good on you,” he said as he cupped your face, stroked his thumb along your cheek and returned to his spot.
Kid slapped him in the chest for blocking him and then lightly gripped your chin between his large fingers.
“Kil’s better with the nice words than I am, but he’s right. Confidence and the clothes look good on you,” he smirked as he leaned down and kissed your cheek, winked at you, then went back to the railing.
You noticed Heat wasn’t there.
“Thanks guys. Where’s Heat?” you asked.
“He’s fuckin with his hair. He’ll be out in a few minutes. You wanna meet us there?” Kid said.
“Yeah, I can wait here. No one is gonna board your ship while I wait,” you said.
“They’d be pretty dumb if they did,” Killer added.
“Alright, we’ll meet you two at the bar,” Kid said as they headed down the gang plank.
You leaned on the side rail of the ship and looked out over the port. It was actually kinda pretty viewing it from here. You were far enough from the people to just be able to watch them move about and not feel anxious to be within them. The breeze was cool enough to give you a slight chill. You listened to the hum of the town. The music, the voices, the waves lapping against the ships and the shore. You found yourself lost in it when you were suddenly startled out of your unintentional meditation.
“Oi! Who the fuck are you?” Heat’s voice was deep and threatening. Nothing like you’d ever heard from him.
You turned to face him and you almost laughed at the utter shock on his face.
“Oh, shit. Sorry love. I didn’t realize it was you…wow,” he approached and looked you over.
“It’s alright baby. I can understand your concern. Though to be honest, your authoritative voice is quite sexy,” you smirked as you pulled him in for a kiss.
He welcomed your lips and held you tight to him.
“I’ll have to remember that for another time,” he smiled as he continued to kiss you.
“You look amazing,” he added.
“Thanks. I’m saving the other one I tried on for a different night. This one felt like a good mix between that and what I was in before,” you said.
You got a look at what he was wearing as you pulled away. He had the messy loose bun you liked. His normal knee-high combat boots with a black and ice blue kilt and one of his ripped no sleeve t-shirts. You had seen him in similar, but somehow tonight he just looked extra delicious.
“You’re looking really good yourself,” you smiled.
“The best for you love,” he kissed your cheek and escorted you off the ship.
“So…you wearing anything under that kilt?” you asked with a grin.
He looked at you and slid your hand up his outer thigh up to the waist. Clearly nothing underneath. Then winked at you.
You felt the warmth building in your lower abdomen already. It would be a long night.
The two of you made it to the bar and joined the group. It happened to be open mic night. There was a live band, just instruments, that had a catalog of songs that you could choose from and sing. The crew thought it was awesome and of course Kid was the first of your group to go up and sing. You had a feeling this was going to go poorly for everyones ears.
He looked through the catalog and you could hear him mumble a “fuck yeah” and turned to the band. Told them the song but asked them to do it faster using some technical music terms. The band nodded, impressed with his knowledge and he took the mic.
You could see he gave your group a wink, but a few of the other women in the bar near you giggled and waved at him. He ate it up.
You were shocked at how good a singer Kid was. The gravel in his voice was actually tamer when he sang and it gave his voice a delightful whine. There was a soulfulness to the tone and as a singer yourself, you could tell he was actually putting his emotions into his performance. It was beautiful. You all gave him a boisterous standing ovation when he was done, and again, he ate it up. The girls started to flirt with him so he sat at their table for a while.
After you had a few more drinks to loosen your nerves you got up and headed to the band. Heat tried to ask you what you were doing but you couldn’t stop or you would chicken out. Kid still sat at the table with the girls and turned his full attention to you. One girl sat on his lap and he idly stroked her leg, but his attention was on you. Heat watched you curiously. He gave you an encouraging smile and blew you a kiss.
You picked a slow and sultry sounding number that had a lot of emotion. You closed your eyes for more courage and began to sing. You would consider your singing voice a feminine version of what Kid’s sounded like, with less gravel and more clean vocals. You belted the song like it was trying to claw it’s way out of you. You let the frustrations of the decision you had to make flow out of you and into the words of the song.
Another standing ovation from the Kid Pirates. Kid intercepted you before you made it back to your seat.
“That was beautiful songbird. I hope you grace us with that voice some more before we leave,” he smiled at you, a genuine, sincere smile. Not one of his cocky confident ones. His last words reminded you that your time with them, with Heat was limited.
“Thanks Kid. You’re not so bad yourself. Maybe we could do a duet,” you suggested.
“That would be fucking awesome,” he replied with a smirk.
He gave you a kiss on the cheek and scooted you back towards the table with the rest of the crew. He rejoined the girls that were now giving you dirty looks.
“Love, that was amazing,” Heat pulled you in for a deep kiss.
“Thanks baby. I’m a little rusty, but Kid going up there reminded me how much I love singing. Maybe I’ll give you your own private concert one day,” you smiled at him. Being wrapped in his arms made your sadness go away. He just felt so comfortable. You felt grounded when you were with him.
�� A while later you went up to the bar to order the next round of drinks when a bone chilling voice came from behind you and the speaker’s two hands rested on your hips.
“Here you are my darling. I’ve been looking for you for a very long time,” his head was right next to yours and he pressed himself against your back.
“I’m…not your darling,” you took a deep breath to calm your nerves, “You must have the wrong person,” you tried to move out of his grasp. But he was always so strong and held you in place.
You distinctly heard multiple chairs scoot back and loud thudding footsteps approach.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” Heat growled and grabbed the man and forcefully pulled him off you and slammed him into the side of the bar.
“Don’t touch me you filth,” the man said as he shoved Heat’s hands from him.
Oswald looked exactly as you remembered him. Tall (6 ft), broad build, smug face, and all arrogance. His clothes made him obviously out of place at The Twisted Tale, but you knew he didn’t care.
“Apologize to her and get the fuck outta here,” Kid growled from behind you. Wire and Killer approached from the table.
“She’s my fiancée, why would I need to apologize?” Oswald retorted.
“The fuck she is,” Kid spit back.
Oswald grabbed your wrist and Heat punched him across the face. He then forced his way in between you and Oswald. The other three blocked his ability to get to you.
“I see how it is,” Oswald spit the blood that pooled in his mouth at Heat’s feet and left the bar.
Papas walked up and took Heat’s hand and looked it over. Told him to ice it, but should be fine.
“Papas, can you and Quincy go get Reck and Gig and have them go to my house and have them give Bea this? Tell them to leave the ship five minutes after you tell them just in case you are followed,” you grabbed a napkin and a pen and wrote.
B, O is here. Don’t leave the house until I tell you to. J
‘You got it,” Papas said, took the napkin and headed out with Quincy.
“You wanna explain what the fuck just happened?” Kid asked, his voice tense.
You walked back to the table and pulled the four of them in close and took a deep breath.
“About four years ago my father arranged a marriage for me to Oswald. Two years ago after my father died I took Bea and the kids and ran,” you briefly explained.
Kid sat back and Heat held your hand.
“You think he’s gonna go after Bea and the kids?” the captain asked.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. He was very obsessive and would go to extreme measures sometimes,” you explained.
“Did he hurt you? Did he do this?” Heat whispered as he ran his fingers down your right side.
“He didn’t have anything to do with the burns,” you avoided answering the first question. He did many things to you.
Heats hand gripped yours harder. Wire had a scowl on his face and Killer was cracking his knuckles. They all knew you deliberately didn’t answer the first question.
“We should have Bea and the kids watched,” Killer suggested.
“He doesn’t know where we live,” you said.
“We shouldn’t take that chance,” Wire chimed in.
“You should stay on the Punk tonight,” Kid suggested.
“Alright, that would be for the best,” you agreed.
The five of you left and headed back to the Punk. You met Papas and Quincy and continued to party in the lounge. Papas brought Heat an ice pack for his hand.
You were surprised that none of them pried into your history. They just took your word and left it at that. This group was something special. The mood had lightened significantly and everyone was back to laughter and smiles.
You spent another two hours in the lounge then headed to bed.
Heat joined you and gave you an un-ripped t-shirt for you to sleep in. He pulled his hair back into a loose bun and stripped like the night before. You again, couldn’t help but take him in. Fuck was he gorgeous. Even soft, his cock was impressive.
“Berri for your thoughts?” he smiled.
“Just thinking if I can fit you in my mouth,” you looked up at him.
He pulled you to him and firmly pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss. His cock began to twitch between you.
You moved your lips to his scars, then his jaw, neck, and chest. You ran your tongue over each of his nipples. He gave a soft moan at the touch. You traveled down to his hips where you laid licks and kisses along them down to his hardening cock. You adjusted and sat on the edge of the bed, sometimes the height difference proved problematic.
He let out a pleasured hiss as you touched him. You wrapped your hand around his shaft, your fingers didn’t quite touch, then licked and kissed his large balls. Your free hand massaged while you licked them, then started at the base of his cock and licked and stroked your way up. The saliva dripped from your mouth to help coat him. You licked over the frenum piercings and lingered on the ring on his tip. Your tongue wiggled the ring and his body twitched.
“That’s it love,” he moaned.
“I’ve never dealt with piercings before,” you commented as you continued to lick his tip. You spread his pre-cum with your tongue and flicked the ring again.
“You’re…ah…doing so good…love,” he said through breaths.
You smiled at the praise and slipped your lips over his tip and he sucked in a breath. You used your tongue again to play with the ring while you moved your mouth lower. He rested one hand in your hair while he gripped one of the hooks you now noticed in the ceiling.
You rubbed your thighs together as you wanted some friction. You gave a small moan as you removed your hand from his balls and began to rub your clit. You fit him as far as you could and began to bob your head and stroked him as you went. You could tell he was trying not to thrust his hips.
“Love, do you…ahh…trust me?” he asked between moans.
“Uh, huh,” you hummed while still sucking his cock, which caused him to moan louder.
He pulled out of your mouth and laid on the bed then pulled you over on top of him.
“Turn around and lay on me. I want to taste you while you suck me off,” he said and you did as he said after you pulled your underwear off.
He sat himself up a bit to adjust for the height difference, again. He waited for you to wrap your lips and hands around him before he began pleasuring you. You gave him a few bobs and he took both of his hands and spread you wide. His tongue gently licked from clit to ass and you squeaked. He teased your clit with the tip of his tongue with little flicks. He inserted a wide, long finger into you as his tongue worked your clit.
You let out a long moan at the feeling, which caused him to let one out as well. Yours vibrated the rings on his cock. Your saliva coated his cock as he inserted a second finger. You began to speed up your strokes and bobs, occasionally giving your jaw a break and lick up and down his shaft. He was able to get a third finger in before you pulled off his cock and began to grind your cunt into his face. He replaced his fingers with his tongue and wrapped his arms around your thighs to hold you in place. You tried to continue stroke him while you rode his face. His rumbled moans tickled you clit and his tongue his spots you didn’t think a tongue could reach.
“Oh fuck…Heat…yes…more!” you screamed, no doubt anyone in this part of this ship clearly heard you.
“Let it out, love,” he moaned between breaths.
“Nmmm…y…yes…yes…I’m…” you got out before your walls tightened around his tongue and your vision went white for a second as your orgasm peaked. Heat’s tongue lapped up every drop he could of your release. A few seconds later you regained your wits and Heat was gently licking your folds and clit.
You then leaned back down and put him back into your mouth and his hips twitched at the sudden touch. You luckily only had the tip in your mouth. You started off slow but quickly bobbed and stroked faster. He removed his face but held your thighs. His panting was getting faster and more ragged.
“Love…just like that…fuck…you’re so…good,” he moaned.
His encouragement caused you to get bold. You took a deep breath and tried to relax your jaw as best you could. It allowed you to slip one more inch.
“Fuuuck…I’m gonna…” was all the warning you had before you felt the hot streams of come in your mouth. You continued to milk him until there was nothing left, which took longer than you were used to.
When you were done, you moved around and continued to lay on his chest, but faced him. You licked your lips as he licked the remain slick from his chin. He pulled you up into a kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips and you knew he tasted himself on yours.
“I hope I can do that again baby,” you said between kisses.
“Whenever you want. You taste so good. I’ll need to do that many more times to make sure I can remember your taste…” he couldn’t bring himself to say “for when we leave.”
“We still have a month baby,” you tried to be positive about your dilemma.
“I know,” he said as he just wrapped his arms around you.
You laid like that for a few minutes before you got up and used the bathroom. When you came out he was wearing his kilt again, nothing else.
“Where you going?” you asked confused.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he took a deep breath then turned to you and gave you a sweet kiss. You could see the sadness in his eyes, “lay down. I’ll join you soon.”
“Heat, what’s wrong?” you asked, concerned.
“I’ll be fine. I just need to get some air,” he gave you a reserved smile.
You wanted to say you’d go with him, but he obviously wanted to be alone, so you let him.
“Ok baby,” you said as you leaned up and kissed his cheek.
He turned and walked down the hall to the deck, leaving the door to his room open. Your heart sank at how sad he looked.
You sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes when Killer stopped in the doorway.
“Hey hon, you worried about Bea and the kids?” he asked as he walked in and
sat next to you.
“Yes, but that’s not what I’m thinking about right now,” you said as you fidgeted with your fingers.
“What is it?” He asked as he brought a knee up on the bed to turn towards you.
“I think I said something to Heat that made him upset and sad and I don’t know what to do,” you replied as you tried to fight tears.
“What did you say to him?” Killer gently took your hand.
“I told him we still had a month to enjoy each other’s company,” you said as you squeezed Killer’s hand.
“I see. Have you thought about coming with us?” he asked bluntly.
“I…I have, but now that Oswald has shown his face I need to protect them. I can’t let him find them,” you said as a tear ran down your cheek.
“We’ve dealt with scumbags like him before. We’ll help you keep Bea and the kids safe,” he said as he wiped the tear.
“In a month?” you asked as your throat cracked.
“We’ve done more in less time. How about tomorrow you tell us what you know about him and we’ll get to the bottom of this. OK?” his voice was kind. You wished you could see his expression.
“You’d do that for me?” you asked.
“Of course. We all care about you,” he said and brought your hand to where his mouth would be on the mask.
“Thanks Killer,” you sniffed.
“Anytime hon,” he stood and leaned over and “kissed” your forehead and headed back the way he came.
You sat in the bed and looked around Heat’s room while you waited for his return. You noticed the same reinforced beams in this ceiling with eyelets, hooks, and pulleys. He had a small seating area with two chairs and a small side table in between. In the corner next to the chairs there was an easel with a stool. Small crates of art supplies were scattered around the area. You were tempted to peak at the canvas, but thought it was too private for you to see. He has a nightstand on either side of the bed and a medium chest along the wall by the door.
You laid down and waited until Heat returned which was a little while later. Longer than you had hoped, but glad he returned. He gave you a chaste smile as he closed the door and removed his kilt.
“Hi, love. Sorry about that. Ready for bed?” he said as he turned the light out and crawled in next to you.
“I’m glad your back,” you said as you gave him a soft kiss which he returned and snuggled into his chest. You swore you saw his eyes red, but he closed them before you could really check.
“Me too,” he said as he wrapped his arms and legs around you much like the night before.
#one piece#eustass kid#kid pirates#massacre soldier killer#op heat#fanfic#op heat x reader#heat x reader#18+ mdni#mdni#op wire#one piece wire#wire#heat#one piece fanfiction
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So glad you're liking all these au's my brain spits out :D As for adoption order
You pick up Ian first, he's very cute and turns the charm up by twelve when he realizes how hot you are (One of the reasons Ian's a bunny is because of how fuckin horny he is) After a few days with you Ian starts talking about the friends he made in the store and how, you know, since your place is so big, maybe you could buy them too?
After Ian talks them up you decide to get Bo and Jean at the same time. Bo is on his best behavior for you he can't go back, he can fucking go back to that store. Jean is also on his best behavior in front of you but makes sure to let the others know he's in charge behind your back
After a while you hear about a hybrid being put in a pound for running a restaurant and your curiosity is peaked enough to check it out. You're a bit surprised to see it was a duck hybrid but after telling him you had a pool he was yours
While trying to leave the pound an escape attempt is made by a panther hybrid, but he's caught and put back in his cell shortly after. A few days go by and you still can't get the poor guy out of your head so you go back for him. You quickly realize he's not a panther at all, he's just a house cat, pretty harmless too, so long as you treat him like a person
After Shaun sees the zoo your mansion is becoming he suggests that maybe you could get a few of his friends out too? Pleeeeeeeease? You cave to his kitty eyes and you take him back to the pound to point out all his friends. The first being Nick who you adopt on the spot and decide to leave the others for another day to not seem suspicious (Some people get hybrids from pounds to release them so staff is always on the look out for that)
Jack and Rory are next, they give you the whole speech about how they won't be taken from each other and are stunned into silence after you tell them you're getting both of them
And, finally, Joseph kinda doesn't want to come with you. He thinks he deserves the pound and doesn't want to ruin your home. The only way you'll get him to come with you is to tell him you run a tight ship and will punish him if he steps out of line
I love this!!!!! Ian being a horny bunny is sooooo good :3c also Shaun's kitty eyes!!!! And poor Joseph, gotta trick him into thinking he's being punished because he doesn't think he deserves good things 😭
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i got one of the dishonored comics today, The Peeress and the Price (still waiting for the art book to ship), and it was a really cool short comic run!! i’ve got a couple of mixed feelings on certain parts of it though :/
So, spoilers mini-essay with absolutely no spell checking or proofreading to explain my thoughts and critiques :D
— Spoilers for Dishonored: the Peeress and the Price —
the art was incredible, loved it, such a sick style the really harsh lighting had such a sick effect. really cool use of colours too. For some reason on the version i got Emily’s headshot on the cover was like, super low resolution and visibly png compressed? there were a couple of page spreads of D2 location art on the inside too which were slightly compressed looking with a weird sharpness, no idea what’s going on there lol. it was an official print so, i guess maybe it didn’t get proofed properly before it went to print or there was a tight deadline? the actual comic art looks incredible, it’s just the cover and the art spreads, which makes sense cause they’re pieces i’ve seen other places being re-used for this. bit odd though.
It started out super great, diving straight into Emily being confronted with the demand for democracy from a group of Dunwall citizens, and I love that!! it’s a genuinely good question for Emily to be asked, if she’s always looking to do the best thing for Dunwall, would that include abolishing the monarchy? but then the rest of the comic just feels too short to properly explore that and it concludes in such an unsatisfying way. It feels like it was maybe meant to be a 3 issue thing treat had to be shortened to 2? or maybe it was always 2 issues, and really should’ve been 2. idk.
The action is really great, I really love it!! it’s so cool to see how Corvo and Emily fight side by side, and to get it clarified that Corvo’s mark doesn’t get returned post-Delilah in D2. And the antagonist, Price? the way she’s drawn and framed is so cool and I love it, she’s allowed to be so brutal and i love that. but does she really have a motivation? Unless i missed a panel i couldn’t really tell one other than she just wants to watch the world burn. She kinda fits the description of characters from Morely, so in my mind i’m assuming she’s for the fall of Dunwall and the empire because of how Morely has been constantly revolting against the empire in the background of the games, because that actually is a really cool motivation that brings the wider empire into the story and furthered the question of how much good Emily’s position as empress does when balanced against the damage inherent of it being an empire.
But yeah, the ‘im into chaos because, fuckin idk it’s fun to watch the world burn’ methodology of Price kinda doesn’t work for me. I know Price explains her motivation in more detail while she’s attempting to convince Wainwright to use his position to turn peaceful protest into a violent rebellion, but it still just doesn’t convince me without the mention of Morely or a wider motivation.
Also, the part about the ending being unsatisfying? Emily kills like 10 of the rat gang henchmen without a second though, not in self defence either, she usually starts it. So her sparing the leader of the gang and telling the public ‘it’s not my position to decide who lives or dies’… actual what the fuck are you on about 😭😭 since when?? unless that’s meant to be her separating Empress Emily and assassin Emily, and declaring that publicly she’ll limit her powers, but behind the scenes she’ll still control Dunwall??
Also the people were like having a revolution 10 mins ago, but now that Emily has spared one person from capital punishment they’re all royalists again? idk, i loved the art in the comic and the characters but i think some of the writing just wasn’t for me lol
I’ve still to read the actual books and ik they’re a lot longer than a 36 page comic, so i’m hoping they delve into things a bit deeper.
All in all, I think by nature a short run comic is gonna struggle to go very in depth on any topic, i think it did it pretty well for the format and i’d have loved to see the authors and artists given a longer run to explore the ideas they had further :) I think it’s a nice little follow up to show how things work in Dunwall post-D2, and how Emily and Corvo work together and everything. It’s nice to see that there’s been a thought for the continuation of the series and more spin-off media, even if i have critiques of it i’ll always be glad for more Dishonored related media lmao
#sheeb dishonored posting#Dishonored comics#dishonored2#Peeress and the Price#Peeress and the price spoilers
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Let me try not to do this…… okay moment over let’s get it done w a lovely deep dive 💦 🐬 🕵️♀️
Part 1: Awkward Moment: now fact that ally comes out to just surprise Colin same moment reader leaves leave me full of doubt about this bitch. Like mmm u n Colin r nasty af like at this point I’m really thinking they want to do a 3 some bc sus. Then the oh I didn’t see u but never and I say NEVER reach out to her bc getting some before work n “happening to run into each other don’t count “ roo . But she recognizes she wasn’t there like obviously 🙄 she left afterwards when u was fuckin like 🐰 in next room. And reader little hard on her self poor thing. Part 2: Office Space If this is anything like the show hot damn we just enter a two for and a bitch could not be more happy. Lord so many times I seen this and it’s like mm. I know this is a Colin fic but honey u left to many stiff open w endless questions I have and probably go on a rant about but won’t just please 🙏 ring ring a sis when u got a chance. Shari shariiiii I love her yup only five secs n I’m like clap slap yuuuup. I wonder do they hang out is reader just socially awkward bc if so hot dog I found my double lol 😂 He's tall, blond, and neatly groomed. He wears a dark blue suit with a crisp white shirt. Even without a tie, he carries an air of formality. The shade of the fabric brings out the lighter hue of his eyes as they scan the spacious but crowded office floor. Idk why but I was like DAMN YES 👍 like mmm found a suitable mate for reader wooo. Lord huh sounds fine. Now I really was like oh shut did he see her the contact at this moment I’m just shipping the shit of the two ( especially once he drop it like it hot w the name girrrrrl) again knowing my luck it’s a trap 🪤 n bitch need to run to CVS n stock up on my clown makeup . THE FACT OKAY REPEAT IT FOR THE BACK THIS HAPPENED HAD ME ☠️ 🪦 His lilted accent is like music. You can't help but be enthralled by it. Your mind as ever sprints ahead of you as you wonder where he's from and how he got here. BC IM SAY WAY IDK WHYYYYYYYYY BUT VOICE ALWAYS GET ME zoooooon out now after this line she says last thing she needs is this choas ( my pink glasses tilt down as I give a confused look) why she say that part 3: First impression; nooooow 👏🏼 🫰 idk about yall but tension is tight n I’m grabbing my coins bc I feel it. To meet people and to see what their worth is okay but mmmm idk 🤷♀️ he kinda going at it differently idk and how he said That is not my question," he closes the folder and drops it, "forgive me. You have my full attention," he steps around and leans against the desk, only a foot away from you, "describe this office in one word." Like idk much but BUTTT I’m feeling something about the way this convo turn now I’m not gonna lie I just huhhh point at him something up BUT IF ALL ELSE FAILS THE GAZE ROO THE GAZE SOMETHING UP ONCE HE HEAR THAT WORD
Part 4: Colin : I want to start by saying he diff was waiting for her like nope he jobless basically n bored so why not be a sexy creep and stalk a bitch u ain’t fucking but make sure she can hear it mmm u nasty 😷 So quickly the knife sinks back in as you find Colin standing along the other side of the hall, leaning on the railing that overlooks the lower level. He watches you as you appear. Like whooooooo does this 🫤 waits like this makes me wonder like idk maybe we discovered a im a creepy ass man kink w him bc like why or it’s enjoyment like ally all Colin she heard n now im mad pout n he all so what lalala they get n a fight n he fucks w reader bc he a dick . 👏🏼 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 why is he clocking a bitch like u a Rolex , Ally said you got pretty loaded. Andddddd you again talking about her w ally u guys really talking about her this much like who does this. And he creeeeping rooo oh my god can we find a level above steve n bucky on the god damn u is quite sneaky this never end nicknames n flirting yoooooo men just don’t HOLD UP TAKE MY POODLE HE SNAP HIS FINGER AT HER OHHHH NAH HE GONNa ( in a whisper) DIEEEEEEEEEEEE n come on this Buttercup,” he snaps his fingers, “you’re the best friend ever, you know that? So fucking chill. God, just… beautiful!” Whaaaaaat he doing n a 😘 boy what is u doin n then it hit me he got a im a horny dick kink who does that n say stuff then act like it ahhhh
Crushed 3
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.
Character: Colin Shea
Note: Things are already gettin messy.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖
Ps. Do you like my divider? I’ll make you one for your stories
Sunday is spent recovering. Emotionally. Physically, you feel fine. The nausea and headache fade before noon but you still feel sick. You don’t dare emerge from your apartment.
Keep reading
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( for anton! ) ✏️⏳ 🌙
✏️ → is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them ?
oh, there’s a fuckin’ plethora ! anton is a character that’s very easy for me to link quotes & lyrics to, so off the top of my head: the entirety of what kind of man by florence + the machine ( what kind of man loves like this ? ) ; “ so if you meet me, have some courtesy / have some sympathy, & some taste / use all your well - learned politesse, or i’ll lay your soul to waste ! ” ( sympathy for the devil, the rolling stones ) ; “ i didn’t make human nature, but i do know what they read & what they watch. i make my nut off what people really want. don’t tell me about people. i’d go flat broke in a week if i didn’t. ” ( logan roy, to gil eavis / succession, season 1, episode 9. ) ; “ look around you. we’re all liars here. ” ( petyr baelish, game of thrones, season 2, episode 10. ) ; “ what is done out of love always takes place beyond good & evil. ” ( friedrich nietzche. )
⏳ → are they usually late or on-time ?
he’s chronically, annoyingly punctual. if the meeting is at 9 am, he’ll be ready to start by 9 am sharp. there’s no room for error, no minute over or under. he runs a tight schedule, a tighter ship, & you can either get with the flow, or you can leave. ( always be ready to start the meeting the minute the clock ticks over, especially if you like your job. that’s a man who doesn’t tolerate tardiness in himself, or in others. )
🌙 → what is your oc’s greatest wish ? how far are they willing to go for it ?
i think his greatest wish has evolved over time ; at some point, just after the twins were born, his only wish was to be a good father to them & a good husband to irina. now, i think his greatest wish is to have utmost control & the thing is, he’s halfway there ! he’s the minister for magic, for fuck’s sake, & there are only a couple of small ( ‘ small ’, like he’s not way in over his fucking head there ) matters he needs to align before he’s completely happy. in terms of how far he’s willing to go ... nothing’s off the table. what’s a bit of murder amongst enemies ?
𝚘𝚌 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚓𝚒 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚜. ✍︎ no longer accepting.
#── ❛ : 𝙰��𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙸𝙽 𝙵. 𝙺𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙰𝚁𝙾𝙵𝙵‚ ✎ answered.#its 2 am. if this doesnt make sense ? blame it on the horrendous vibes im sporting
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The Prisoner's Dilemma
The Mandalorian x Fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 2.7k
Summary: There’s a bounty on your head and the Mandalorian Din Djarin picks you up. Boba Fett informs Din of what he does with bounties like you.
Warnings: Smut, rough sex, explicitly non con!! (but reader is into it), fingering, daddy kink, bondage, lots of dirty talk, degradation, exhibitionism kink
A/N: Please don't hesitate to message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list, or add yourself via Taglist sign up!!! Feedback is always very much appreciated <3
PLEASE please heed the warnings!!
Masterlist
Din has been hunting with Boba Fett ever since the Razor Crest was destroyed; they travel from planet to planet together collecting bounties. While he would prefer to work alone, Din doesn’t mind Boba’s company— the two are very similar people. Both are cold, stoic bounty hunters who don't take shit from anyone.
You struggle and resist when Din picks you up. Sending endless punches and kicks at the Mandalorian trying to cuff you. You attempt to flee but to no avail, your strength is nothing compared to his.
He cuffs your hands behind your back and roughly walks you to the ship, maintaining a firm grip on your upper arm as he drags you alongside him.
The first thing you see upon entering the rusty ship is another man in Mandalorian armor. “Ahh what the fuck? She’s your bounty??” Boba says to Din as he tugs you up the ramp of Slave I.
Both men are fully covered from head to toe in beskar. The one handling you is taller than the other, and has a deeper voice.
“Yeah. Where’s yours?” Din responds casually.
“In carbonate.” Boba says nodding to the chamber. ”Damn. You’re lucky, Djarin.”
“Lucky? The price on her head is the same as your bounty’s.” Din replies.
“I'm not talking about the payout. Look at her, man! She’s yours to take.” Boba says locking his stare on your increasingly confused expression.
“What do you mean?” Din says flatly, looking down at you.
Boba takes a deep breath. “Ohhhhh Din, so innocent.” He laughs. “….You get to fuck her!”
Did…. did he just say what you think he said?
Din scoffs. “You fuck your bounties?”
“Well if they look like her! Shit, how could you not?!” Boba takes a step closer to you. “Damn. I've never seen a bounty as pretty as this one.” He says grabbing your chin and lifting your face up.
You’re standing there silently, still in Din’s grasp with your hands clasped behind your back. Din looks down at you and you turn your wide puppy dog eyes up to meet his gaze, anxious to see what he will do with you.
Boba takes a step away from the two of you. “If you don’t fuck her, I will. I’m not letting a pretty thing like that go to waste on my ship.” He pats Din on the back. “C’mon Djarin, you deserve it pal.” Boba says as he exits the room.
You stand there, almost in shock, waiting for the Mandalorian to do or say something. Part of you suspects all of this talk is just some nonsense to intimidate you.
But then after a moment, he finally speaks. His voice is low and rough, tone firm with a hint of condescension. “Well…..you heard him darling. You want me or Boba? I’ll give you the choice.” Din lightly chuckles.
Your heart drops. He can’t be serious. There’s no way bounty hunters are allowed to fuck the bounties they collect. Then again, why would he not, whose gonna stop him? You’re the criminal.
You’re scared, but not as much as you would expect yourself to be. And that’s because your fear is clouded with arousal. Why aren’t you scared shitless? Perhaps because this is lowkey one of your fantasies? And maybe because you’re also incredibly attracted to this big strong Mandalorian manhandling you. Shit.
“Yo— wait, no please don’t.” You say the last part mechanically.
“You want Fett to fuck you?”
“No!”
“Alright.Then I’ll be fucking you, princess. Consider yourself lucky. Fett would make it all about himself, but I'll see to it that your needs are met as well.” Din says softly as he runs one hand through your hair and grabs your waist with the other.
“What? Wait…. I….I….wait– please.” You say, your body trembling underneath his hold.
Din takes a deep breath. “You’re getting fucked baby, you may as well enjoy it.” He says as he grabs your ass with both hands and practically lifts you up, pressing your body flat against him.
“Ah! No. Just– just let me go…. please!” You plead trying to shake free of his clench, your glassy, scared doe eyes staring right into his visor.
“Ha. Keep struggling, sweetheart.” Din pushes his helmet right against your ear as he tightens his grip on your ass. “Just turns me on more.” He whispers in your ear.
“Mmph!” You squeal out, shaking your shoulders as he spins you around and pushes your torso down, bending you over a table.
One of his hands is on the back of your neck, forcing you down on the metal surface. The other is on your waist, right near your cuffed hands. Your ass is waggling in the air as you try to resist his advances and rid yourself of his grabby hands.
You can barely move, however, under his sedulous grip. He shoves your pants down, leaving you bent over the table with your ass in the air in nothing but the unfortunately racy thong you’re wearing.
Your whole body shudders as you feel two of his thick fingers trace your clothed folds.
“Hahahahahahaha…..” Din maniacally laughs as he feels your gooey wetness through the fabric. “Nowwwww I see. Now I get it. You fuckin like this, you little slut.” He growls in your ear. “Pfft. I was gonna say, the fight you’re putting up is pathetic, but now I see why.”
Din isn’t wrong. He has seen you actually struggle and resist when he was capturing you, and the weak shaking of your shoulders and your little pouting is clearly not everything you have.
“Damn, I’ll give it to ya princess, you had me fooled for a while.” Din coos as he grinds his unbelievably large bulge against your ass.
“N-no! I don’t want this!” You contend. Your jolting only serves to make him shove you against the table harder, essentially inhibiting all your movements.
“Baby girl, your pussy is fucking sopping wet, drop the act.” Din scoffs. “You are literally leaking through these panties.” He says as he slips his long thick finger underneath your soaked underwear, running it along your slick. Your whole body shutters under his touch as pressure darts in your core.
“I—”
“Tell me, pretty girl.” Din interrupts. “Have you ever had a cock as big as mine?”
He loosens his grip on your neck, allowing you to crane your neck and look back at the monster cock he is rubbing up and down your glazed valley.
“Fuck.” You whisper to yourself, unsure how he is going to fit in you.
Din slaps your ass. “Answer me.” He commands in a deep tone.
“Ah!” You cry. “No. N-never.”
“Yeah?” Din purrs right before he shoves his entire length into you.
You scream out. “Ah!!” Never have you been opened so much before. He lets his cock sit in you a moment once it’s fully engulfed, leaving you stuffed to the brim with his member.
“Holy shit.” Din breathes out. “Oh fuck yes, this is some good pussy.”
With that he starts rocking his hips back and forth, driving his massive girth into you each time. Your mouth falls open as disgusting moans fall out of your throat. His grip still harsh around your neck as he holds you down hard, pushing his hips against yours and delivering you the best pleasure you’ve ever felt.
“Ha. Knew it.” You hear Din chortle behind you.
You open your eyes and realize that you are pushing your hips back into his, trying to pound him even harder into your G-spot. You curse at yourself for being this brazen with your actions and not hiding your pleasure and yearning better. At this point, you know you’re not fooling him, but you’re not ready to completely give in.
“Now— now that my cock’s in you, you gonna finally behave? Be a— a good girl for me, huh? You little whore.” Din pants as he plows into your hole.
Your cheek is pressed hard against the table and you bite your bottom lip, trying to muffle your lewd moans as you squeeze your eyes shut.
Din chuckles at your pathetic attempt to remain silent. “Don’t respond and I won’t let you cum. Which— well…. you don’t even want to cum, right? Cuz— cuz you don’t want this, right?”
Your eyes shoot open. “Wait….N-no! Ple– please!!!” You cry, turning your head to look back at him.
“Mmmf, please what?” Din growls.
“Please….ah— please let me cum!” You finally relent.
“Ahhhhhh there it is. Keep beggin’, baby. You’re gonna have to earn it after being such a naughty little bitch.” He remarks as he moves both hands to your hips and pulls you into him each time he drives into you.
“Please! Please let me c-cum daddy!” You cry. “I wanna cum so badly, I wanna— wanna cum all over your cock. Please, please daddy!”
“That’s it. Look at you being so obedient now. Ha. Looks like I've fucked the good girl right into ya.” He says, slowing down his thrusts. Din bends over so that his helmet is right against the side of your head and whispers in your ear. “You like playing an innocent little brat don’t you? Pretending tha— that you don’t want to get fucked. But you’re such a dirty fuckin slut, you just couldn’t resist my big dick could ya? You— you’re just too fuckin desperate to get your tight little hole stuffed full of cock. Isn’t that right?”
“Y-yes! Fuck! Your cock hits me— hits me so deep! S-stretches me out so good!” You whine out as he thrusts into you.
Din spanks your ass again, sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core and making your cunt clench around him.
“Oof. I felt that. Ya like being spanked too? Fuck. You are a whore.” Din chuckles.
Your moans have turned into downright vulgar screams that you have no control over. He’s pounding into you so hard that your vision has gone blurry from the tears falling out of your eyes.
“Gah. You look so f-fuckin pretty when you cry baby.” Din mutters.
You hear a bang at the door and panic momentarily.
“Goodness, Djarin! It sounds like you're torturing her in there.” You hear Boba yell on the other side of the wall.
“Nahhh, I’m taking good care of her, isn’t that right sweetheart?” Din calls out, leaning over to your face.
“Y-yes!” You scream in response.
Din then grabs your shirt and for a moment tries to pull it over your head. Upon realizing that your cuffed hands pose an obstacle, he rips it right off your body, causing you to jump a bit.
“Come see for yourself, pal.” Din offers to Boba after discarding the ripped fabric on the floor.
The door slides open and Boba is met with the crude scene of you bent over a table, completely naked with your hands cuffed behind your back, mouth open wide with tears rolling down your face, and Din standing behind you, holding your hips tightly while plowing into you.
Boba stands in amazement. “…Holy fuck.”
“Say hi to Boba, pretty girl.” Din orders.
“H-hi sir.” You manage to spit out, lifting your head slightly.
“Shit. You hit the jackpot, Djarin. How’d you get this little one to submit?”
“Ohh, she wasn’t hard to tame. Ah— Needy whores like her never are.” Din responds while continuing to drive into you.
“Well, bye princess.” Boba says looking straight into your watering eyes. “Be good now. Din can get mean if he doesn’t get his way.” He remarks before existing.
When the door closes, Din yanks you up by your hair, spins you around, and lifts you onto the table. You’re sitting straight up on the table with your hands still clasped behind your back, a fully clothed Din standing between your legs, holding your trembling thighs wide open as he sinks his length back into you. You instinctively wrap your legs around him.
He grabs a rough hold of your face, hooking his thumb in your agape mouth while the rest of his long hand wraps around your head, forcing your watering eyes to look right at him as he pounds up into you. Strands of your hair stick to your sweaty face as you’re unable to brush them away.
His other hand trails down your sweating skin to your clit and starts drawing tiny circles on it. You wish you could wrap your arms around his neck and hold on tight to him as he drives you over the edge.
“Alright, pretty girl, cum for me. Show me what you’ve got, baby, come on.” Din encourages, swiping his thumb over your swollen clit.
Your cuffed hands are in tight white fists with your nails digging into your palms. Your whole body tenses up and your back arches as you squeal out. Din’s grasp on your face stops your head from falling back as your orgasm shatters through your body.
Din is hardly pulling his length out of you while thrusting fast and deep inside of you, feeling your cunt flutter on his cock makes him moan and you can tell he’s going to cum soon.
Just then he lifts you off the table and shoves your head down. “On your knees and open wide, I’m gonna cum in that pathetic pretty mouth.” Din breathes out as he rapidly strokes his cock over your face.
You sit up tall on your knees and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out while looking up at him with wide watery eyes. Din grunts as he grabs a hold of your hair and tilts your head up, positioning his cock right over your quivering mouth. Warm streams on white cum shoot from his length and fall on your lips and tongue. He keeps pumping it as he sprays the rest of your face with his seed.
“Damn baby, I thought you were hot before, but you look even better on your knees with your face covered in cum, sweat, and tears.” Din remarks while putting his softening member in his pants.
You slowly rise from the ground, your legs shake and almost give out as you bring your self to your feet. You’re panting and strands of your hair are stuck to your gooey face, as your cuffed hands prevent you from wiping your face.
You stand there awkwardly and silent, naked and disgusting as Din buckles his belt.
“Your pussy is so fucking good. I think I'm gonna have to keep you.”
“W-wait, what?”
“Yeah. I can't turn you in. Can't let a cunt like yours go to waste.”
“Bu— but then you won’t get paid.”
“Oh, having you around to fuck at my leisure is worth way more than the bounty on your head sweetheart.”
You gulp. “I thought—”
“Come on princess.” Din interrupts. “You can either stay with me, or go rot in jail. What’ll it be?
“But I— I….” You have completely forgotten about the foul fate that awaited you. You haven’t had time to think about what would happen once you were turned over. You have no idea of what life is like in a New Republic prison, nor did you have any knowledge how long you would be incarcerated.
“....I wanna stay with you.” You say softly looking down at your feet.
“That's what I thought.” Din says walking up to you. “Get yourself cleaned up baby girl.” He spins your nude body around and unlocks your hand cuffs, nodding in the direction of the fresher. “I’m going on a supply run and then it’s my turn on the flight deck. And my cock could use some warming while I pilot the ship.”
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Masterlist
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Taglist:
@pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75 @tacticalsparkles @kenoobiwan @shark-s @theamuz @blackrose8425 @beskarboobs @smutslutz @princess-djarinn @spideysimpossiblegirl @riot-rotten @javierpinme @hypnoash @anaaaispunk
#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian fanfiction#star wars smut#mando x reader#pedro pascal smut#mandalorian smut#star wars fanfiction#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin smut#star wars x y/n#star wars x you#star wars x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#mando x you#pedro pascal fanfiction#star wars#the mandalorian#mandalorian#pedro pascal#Star Wars smut#smut#dubcon#the mandalorian x you#din djarin gifs#one shot
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Persistence
This is the first fic I've posted on here in literal years but the gay pirates convinced me! I hope you guys enjoy Lucius bullying Izzy into resting! <3
—
"Are you still at it?"
Izzy glared upward, his eyes narrowed viciously and his lip curled up into an itchy snarl.
"Fuck off, scribe." He muttered.
Lucius glared right back at him.
There was no sympathy in his heart for the man who had given half the crew the nastiest head cold he had encountered in all of his travels. The ship's bunks were filled with damp sniffles, hacking coughs, and enough sneezing to nearly capsize The Revenge. Particularly when Fang and Ivan had begun to sneeze in near tandem, the sound loud enough to rattle the timbers until they had both finally returned to health.
Yet, somehow Izzy himself had not recovered.
The first mate was still just as wretchedly sick as when he had first started to share his misery.
As Lucius scowled at him, he couldn't help but notice that the lingering illness was practically painted over Izzy's sharp features. The red, chapped look that had been scrubbed into his nostrils, the faint sheen of fever sweat that dampened his slicked back hair, even the lines of exhaustion that were carved beneath his lower lashes as he sneezed his way through another miserable sounding fit.
"Nothing better to do than fuckin' stare?"
Lucius felt the tiny dregs of sympathy drain away as Izzy growled.
"Well, fine then." He sniffed. "I suppose I'll leave you to your misery."
From the corner of his eye, Lucius could spot the crew nodding vigorously at leaving Izzy alone. Especially with the double threat of his prickly personality and the near certainty of contagion.
"Sounds great to me." Izzy snapped.
Lucius pivoted on one heel, entirely ready to leave Izzy to his toxic mixture of germs and his usual waspish personality.
Except–
"Heh-Tcxhh!"
"Are you serious right now?"
Izzy only gasped, his nostrils flaring and his gloved hand snapping up to meet them in a viciously tight grip.
"Heh-Txchuu, HAH-Schiew." He let out a barking cough. "Hehh'Txxu, Ess'TXch, Heh …HHtt'ChXiew."
"Good lord, man. Try and take a breath sometime soon." Lucius spat out, ignoring the tiny flicker of concern that rose up in his chest as Izzy kept pitching forward over and over again. "Any more and you'll fall overboard."
"Real pirates do not fa-heh fall fucking overboard."
"But they do sneeze themselves half to death?"
Izzy glared again through eyes that were even more bloodshot and framed with irritated tears, his chapped lips parted to breathe through the insurmountable barrier of congestion.
"Look, Izzy, mate." Lucius started tersely. "You sound awful."
"Fuck off."
"Yes, yes, I know. You're so super tough and rugged and the most badass pirate ever."
"Damn right."
"But right now? This–"
"I said … fuck off." Izzy snarled, his glove finally dropping from his nose with a suspiciously wet sheen. "Or else."
Lucius eyed the sodden leather with disgust, hearing a few mumbles from the gathered crew also expressing their opinion on the utter grossness.
"Or else?" He echoed.
"Or else, I'll run you through until your internals become your externals."
Another ripple passed through the crew at the threat– unoriginal as it was for Izzy.
Lucius simply shrugged, purposefully flippant even despite the slight fizzle of concern still bubbling in his chest, and eyed the wet mess that was slowly dripping from the first mate's chapped nostrils and down onto his cravat collar.
"You wouldn't be the only one anymore, then."
The crew gasped.
Izzy let out a hoarse shout and stomped forward–
Only to freeze himself in place with another fit of sneezing interspersed with the same ragged sounding coughs.
"You … HA-Schxu. You won't be heh. I sw-heh swear that I'll–"
"Yes, I'm sure you will." Lucius cut off the series of choked off threats with a mocking grin. "But not right now."
"I can slice you to pi-heh-ces anyday. Any time."
"Between sneezes, hm?"
"Before, during, and after."
Lucius leered.
Slowly, he leaned back from Izzy's bloodshot glare until he was balanced on the heels of his boots and just barely touching the wood of the deck with the leather.
"At least then … I would be the only one in the crew to have not caught and suffered from your wretched head cold." He taunted. "A bit of a mercy, really."
From the corner of his eye, he could spot a few nods from the crew and hear muttered agreements along with some truly miserable sounding sniffling.
Izzy let out a growl as he lunged forward.
Only to stop in place– not to sneeze, but to pivot towards the below decks bunks and stomp off. Even as he spat out a few remaining curses and a lingering cough in his wake.
Lucius blinked at the suddenly empty deck.
"Well, that worked, didn't it."
Far better than he had ever expected, considering Izzy's usual ferocity and stubbornness. Although … maybe the man simply felt too awful to continue an almost pointless argument.
Around him, the crew converged into an oblivious mass of still pink noses and sweat damp hair as the root cause of their misery stormed down the steps like a hurricane.
As Lucius watched him stalk away, a treacherous part of him still couldn't help but hope that Izzy would take the opportunity to rest and recuperate from the prolonged illness that was clearly wreaking havoc on his body.
A larger part prayed to any deity listening that he wouldn't catch it himself.
#snz fic#snz fucker#Im a bit out of practice writing but I love the feisty little first mate too much! He needs a damn awful cold
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You failed me
multiple x gn!reader
word count: 2,524
warnings: cursing, yelling, arguing, death, angst, blood, explosion, the egg (it deserves its own warning)
synopis: you guys failed me(us)
(the lyrics go with each person, might not get everyone, and also xd’s part is kinda wonky)
song: rät by penelope scott
I come from scientists and atheists and white men who kill God They make technology, high quality, complex physiological Experiments and sacrilege in the name of public good They taught me everything, just like a daddy should
Quackity, Karl, George, and Sapnap left you. Your mentors, your friends. The ones who taught you everything you knew. They went to build their little “Kinoko Kingdom” while you stayed in the ruins, the dust. “They’ll regret that.” you swore. You built something better, something greater.
It was called “Las Nevadas”. A place where everyone was allowed. They would remember not to fuck with you. They would soon realize that they should watch their back for the rest of their short, stupid lives.
“Watch out, you guys, I'm watching your every move.”
And you were beautiful and vulnerable and power and success God damn, I fell for you, your flamethrowers, your tunnels, and your tech I studied code because I wanted to do something great like you And the real tragеdy is half of it was true
Wilbur majorly fucked up. He was supposed to be with you to the end, your guys’ country, right? No. He left you behind. He went to find peace, find his heaven, while you stayed on earth, wallowing away until your flesh seeped off your rattling bones, rotting away by yourself, with no one to bare witness.
“Why didn’t you bring me with you Wilbur?” you asked his stupid grave on top of the once L’Manburg. “Why did you get the ecstasy, why do I get the remains?”
“I’m coming for you Wilbur, and when I do, we are going to wreck upon justice on everyone who wronged us, wronged you, they will feel our wrath.”
But we've been fuckin' mеan, we're elitist, we're as flawed as any church And this faux-rad West coast dogma has a higher fuckin' net worth I bit the apple 'cause I trusted you, it tastes like Thomas Malthus Your proposal is immodest and insane And I hope someday Selmers rides her fuckin' train
"Y/n!" Technoblade yelled. "I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU BETRAYED ME, FOR WHAT, TO BLOW UP A STUPID COUNTRY, A COUNTRY THAT WAS DOOMED TO FAIL FROM THE START." He started to battle you, missing every single swing, blinded by fury.
“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE ON MY SIDE.”
"LOOK AT ME GODDAMN IT."
You looked up at him in the eyes and boldly said, "No, Techno, don’t you see, you’re in the wrong here, you’re the one who betrayed me." You were blinded by friendship, you couldn’t see that Tommy had betrayed Techno, and that what the Butcher Army did to Techno was terrible.
"What do you mean Y/n, you know what they did, they wronged me, they used me, they tortured me, they gave me hell, so I gave it back to them, I destroyed the things they loved, the people they loved, you see Y/n, those who have treated me with kindness I will repay that kindness tenfold, and those who treat me with injustice, that use me, that hunt me down, that hurt my friends, I shall repay that injustice a thousand times over, do you understand?"
"No I don't, Techno, you can't do this.” you begged. He pushed you out of the way, "Get out of my way Y/n." “No, I won’t, I won’t let you destroy everything we worked for.”
“Well, then I have to fight you.”
And thus the battle began, Swords clashing against each other, blood spilling from open wounds, friends digging each other into a whole both of them couldn’t get out of. Techno was letting you off easy, he knew his strength, he knew that he could’ve beaten you in one swipe, but he didn’t want to kill you.
So when you had the opportunity, you swept from under his feet, and knocked him down. You placed your blade onto his neck, pressing down until a little drop of blood appeared, “Stay down Technoblade, or I’ll do something worse than try to put you on trial.”
He watched as you walked away from him, trying to save L’Manberg from a worst fate than death itself.
“One day Y/n, you’ll see, I’m on your side.”
I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it's true I wanted to be you and do what you do I lived here, I loved here, I bought it, it's true I feel so stupid, and so used I feel so used
"Why would you do that Dream? You didn't have to do that." you interrogated. Dream had stupidly blew up the community house. You both didn't plan that, he had gone behind your back. "I had to Y/n, you wouldn't understand."
"What do you mean I don't understand, you went against my back, we were supposed to-" you cut off yourself, "Dream, don't you understand, you did something stupid, and what did you get, you got stupid jail." "The reason I did that is because I needed to isolate myself from humanity." he said, proudness lacing his words.
"What do you mean?" you questioned. "If anyone knows I can revive people, I'm screwed, so that's why I need to be by myself, yeah it sucks major ass, but at least no one else will know, well, besides you anyways." "I have a task for you Y/n/n, I need you to find a way to bring Tommy and Ghostbur in here."
"Why Dream?"
"I'm going to revive Wilbur."
I was your baby, your firstborn, the hot girl in your comp-sci class And I was Darwin's prep school dream, bred, born and raised to kick your ass I fell for circuit boards, rocket ships, pictures of the stars If you could only be what you pretend you are
"PHILZA MINECRAFT COME BACK HERE." you were chasing Phil, through the woody forest, covered by oak trees. He had information on Technoblade's whereabouts and you needed it. You chased him with your enchanted netherite armor, netherite sword and axe, and a few op potions. Your goal was to capture Philza and interrogate him on where Techno's place was. The thing was, you were his child. His own child trying to kill his own son.
He felt betrayed, his own child turned against him and their brother, their family. "The Butcher Army must've gotten to you somehow." he thought in his head. Surely, his darling Y/n didn't do it on their own will, right?
He was incorrect, you did it because you believed that Techno needed to be brought to justice, by punishment. You believed that your own sibling needed to die, because he was a "liability" to L'Manberg's growth and future. He needed to die because as long as he would live his long life with his little enderman Edward, retired, he would still cause trouble to everything you, Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy, and Ranboo had built.
He pleaded, "Stop Y/n, you don't have to do this." You argued, "I do Philza, as long as he lives, my plans for L'Manberg will forever cease to exist."
He felt like shit, you called him Philza, not Dadza, or Dad, or anything besides his normal name. "Did I screw something up?" he asked himself quietly under his breath. "Yes you did Phil, you took the traitor's side." you had heard Phil mumble.
"HE'S NOT A TRAITOR." Phil yelled at you. "Yes he is, he deserves what he is about to get, I will say it again, where is his base?"
"I'm not saying, Y/n, why are you doing this, Techno is your own sibling." "He's not my sibling anymore, that stopped when he destroyed L'Manberg, you're lucky I forgived you." you declared.
"Y/n/n, please don't do this."
"I have to Dadza, I can't let him roam free."
When I said take me to the moon, I never meant take me alone I thought if mankind toured the sky, it meant that all of us could go But I don't want to see the stars if they're just one more piece of land For us to colonize, for us to turn to sand
Bad had tried to convice you to join the Eggpire. You had no effect while being next to the egg, and he had to take you out. People who had no effect towards the egg had to be eliminated.
He was creepily following you, waiting until you stopped to get a chance to capture you. He had hope that you did have an effect, that you would join the Egg with him. He didn't want to kill you, you were his best friend, besides Skeppy of course.
"Come back here Y/n." he said. "No chance in hell Bad, get the fuck away from me." "HEY, LANGUAGE!" he exclaimed. "No language, get away from me, you're creeping me out."
He threw his trident, spinning in the air, trying to catch up to your frantic steps. You were trying to get to Church Prime, where no one could kill anyone, hopefully Bad would abide to that rule. You were just about to step on Church Prime when you bumped into a hard, armored chest.
You looked up shyly, and saw Punz, with his red eyes reflecting anger. "Where are you going Y/n?" he questioned. "Somewhere." you blankly stated. You were desperate, you didn't want to die, or anything else that Bad was going to do to you. You tried to dodge Punz, but he placed a hand on your shoulder, "Stay right here Y/n."
"No, get away from me, I don't know what's wrong with all of you, but go away, I don't want anything to do with your stupid Eggpire." He raged, and grabbed your wrist heavily, "DON'T TALK ABOUT THE EGG LIKE THAT, IT WILL TAKE CONTROL OF THE SERVER, AND YOU ALL WILL BE ITS SERVANTS." "LET ME THE FUCK GO PUNZ." you screamed. You were wiggling in his grip, trying to escape his lunatic self.
While he was holding you, you saw two other shadows behind you. It was Antfrost and Bad. "What do you guys want from me, I didn't do anything wrong."
"You are against the Egg Y/n, people who are like you and Tommy have to die."
"Well, I'm not dying today." you murmured under your breath. "What was that you said?" Antfrost asked you.
You smirked, "I'm not dying today, I'll tell you one more time, let go of me."
Bad and Antfrost walked closer to you, Punz right behind you, all of them cornering you into a tight spot. "What you going to do about it Y/n, you're cornered."
"You'll know when they get here, but for now, you better run boys."
'Cause we're so fuckin' mean, we're so elitist, we're as fucked as any church And this bullshit West coast dogma has a higher fuckin' net worth I bit the apple 'cause I loved you, and why would you lie? And then I realized that you're just as naïve as I am Oh, you're so traumatized it makes me want to cry
"Tubbo, don't do this." Schlatt had unfortunately found out that you were a spy, that you were on Pogtopia's side. He had ordered Tubbo to kill you with fireworks, to light you on fire, give you blisters all over your body. "Please Tubbs, you're my friend." you pleaded.
"I can't Y/n/n, or something worse will happen." he whispered to you. "What do you mean?" you asked. "He can-" he trailed off, looking somewhere else besides your eyes. "Tubbo, you don't have to do what that stupid bastard tells you to do, you're your own person, with your own thoughts and actions."
"I'm sorry Y/n, I hope you can forgive me."
"TUBBO N-" you was cut off by firewords hitting your skin, making blisters and burn marks all over your body. You lost your second canon life, feeling betrayed by Tubbo. He killed you for what, a stupid father who never cared about him in his entire life, a father who exiled his friends that actually treated him like a person, and not like some random piece of trash.
You respawned in your bed, feeling bruises and bumps mostly on your forearms and your back.
"I'll help you Tubbo, I’ll get rid of him.”
You dumb bitch I loved you, I loved you, I loved you, it's true I wanted to be you and do what you do I lived here, I loved here, I bought it, it's true I'm so embarrassed, I feel abused
“Come on Y/n/n, come with me.” Punz begged of you. He wanted you to visit the Egg. You didn’t want to be controlled by a stupid omelette. "I'm not Punzo, why are you so obsessed with that stupid thing."
"DON'T SPEAK OF THE EGG LIKE THAT."
You put your hands in front of you, accidentally touching Punz's chest, "Ok calm down buddy." He didn't calm down and instead yelled at you on why you had to join the Eggpire.
"If you join, you will be forever happy."
"If you join you'll get whatever you want."
You were tired of the members of the Eggpire to convince you to join them, you didn't like eggs anyway. "Punz, for the last time, I'm not joining you, stop telling me."
“Then you have to die.”
So fuck your tunnels, fuck your cars, fuck your rockets, fuck your cars again You promised you'd be Tesla, but you're just another Edison 'Cause Tesla broke a patent, all you ever broke were hearts I can't believe you tore humanity apart
“XD!” You were pissed at him, he had destroyed your house, made your friends pissed at you, just everything you liked. All because he wanted you for himself.
He wanted you to be dependent on his every word, and he was being a manipulative psychopath. And you didn’t tolerate that, it was like he was his human counterpart, Dream.
He walked to you with confidence, waiting for to get a hug from you, well, he didn’t get that. You slapped him so hard his head swung to the left.
“WHAT THE FUCK.”
“That’s what you get you stupid son of a bitch. You fucking ruined everything.” “Calm down Y/n/n, what is wrong?” He acted concerned, but you knew that he was faking. He would do anything to get someone’s approval.
“DO YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT’S WRONG, IT’S YOU, YOUR STUPID PRESENCE IN MY LIFE. YOU KEEP ON WALKING AROUND LIKE YOU FUCKING OWN THE PLACE.”
“Calm down darling, just take some netheri-” you interrupted him by slapping the ore out of his hands. “I don’t need jack shit from you XD, you know what, take back the necklace, I don’t want it.” You pulled the shiny, green emerald necklace off your neck, and pulled XD’s palm out.
You placed the necklace filled with memories, and put it on his hand. You closed up his palm, and walked away, leaving XD to his own accord.
“We could’ve had evertything X.”
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