#and imagine what happens to them as our stories grow side by side | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

biff-adventurer · 26 days

Text

today i met tiny chris

poor wean's da got et by a 'bon. now he wants 'em all dead. wiv' crossy eyes like them as drawed in the picture shows. dinnae get et and ye might be his new da.

he actually made me think about two things - the npcs/people we've helped along the way, and the writing of accents.

it's no secret i gave biff this accent - it tells you he ain't a city slicker but rather a rural boy, it tells you his folks ain't got a lotta money (at least, one would think), and it associates him with a specific cultural/ethnic profile (gaelic, i know/studied a little more about irish than scots so i lean irish)

i think we should, as a society, be wary of continuing to associate class with specific ethnic communities, but i'm not learned enough to make a post dedicated to my specific thoughts on that (yet? tbd)

mostly, i think it's important to look at the way characters speak as a vehicle of writing. when you write a character's accent, is it useful for what you're trying to establish in the scene? is the noble supposed to fail to understand the vernacular of his server? is it useful if the character is always going to say "dinnae" instead of "do not"? when dealing with non-western characters with accents, how far is it okay to go until the dialogue goes from representation to racist charicature?

writers have the power of flexibility. writing is about persuasion more than anything else, and we should remember to persuade our audiences that these are people. they aren't real, so don't bother with "realistic" - but they represent real ideas, concepts and associations in our world. it's important to be careful what you do with these, intended or not! and if you make an oopsie? acknowledge, accept and continue on your journey to being your best.

my preferences for writing accents based on my experiences, observations and education lean thus:

pick and choose what words require emphasis. if the whole sentence requires it, then so be it! but make conscious choices. words weigh differently, and they carry double the weight when they're written out to represent an accent. just really think about whether or not this is the point you want to say to, t', ta, or tae. the whole sentence doesn't need to be written out phonetically b/c avoiding doing that helps us steer clear of reiterating caricatures.

include culturally specific verbiage. "what's the craic" or "how's it hangin'" depending on who your character is. in india, lots of people greet each other with religious phrases (in english, it'd sound like saying "god is good"/"good is god" call and response) - so a thavnairian character could say anything between "sisters be with you" to "mindhurva guide your path today" (and also yours, brother/sister). but also: wain, wean, child, sweetling,

be careful which non-english words your character uses. i don't call it chai tea latte, i call it chai latte. my wife doesn't call it green tea latte, but matcha latte. i actually don't drink chai latte, i drink chai. but i call it both chai and tea interchangeably; so, when i want someone to know how to prepare my tea, i might ask for chai instead of tea. because with chai, you get half or whole base milk instead of water. you get dried ginger or an array of spices depending on the auntie. with tea, you get dried up leaves and some hot water. big difference for me.

above all, make sure it's legible most of the time. you can do this by avoiding writing a character's accent out completely phonetically. this isn't to say "conform your character to what people think they should talk like". this is about being aware that writing implies an audience. if you want your writing to connect with people, the important parts should be clearly communicated in the text. especially if you're writing in english. if i wanted my characters to speak hindi, why would i bother writing the story in english at all? you want people to see your character a specific way. write them the way you hope they'll be seen--if you've done a good enough job, it will lead to so much joy and satisfaction. if you haven't--it's back to the drawing board! but you get the chance to learn even more.

#ooc;;#screenshots;;#i've been wanting to say something forever #in reality though i want to include an ep about tiny chris in my ongoing fic #so i was looking at him and his FATES and i was then compelled to go back to other lower level areas and be like #where are the other little guys we helped? i love them #i don't really care if the time bubble keeps them in our halcyon days as a sprout #i want to learn who they are again and again and love on them #and imagine what happens to them as our stories grow side by side #i think i'll be stuck in ARR for a long time so sorry about that #but i think it will be worth it for the kind of story i want to tell anyway #ps this is probably going to be outdated advice someday so pls remember that even im doing my best LOL #i'm just tired of being quiet... i'm going to do me and not worry about fitting in...#it took me awhile to remember that my position culturally means i'll always be a disruptive presence to the status quo #so it's better for my health to stop hoping i'll fit in somewhere and just try to relax

6 notes · View notes

lild00td00t · 11 months

Text

Unexpected Kisses

Characters: Buggy, Shanks, Ace, Sanji, and Franky

Some smoochies for our One Piece fellas <3 Enjoy

Buggy

• It is SO easy to catch this man off guard, he’s always ranting about one thing or the other. It’s either that or he’s drinking and partying the day away!

• So it’s a huge surprise when you kiss his cheek, and go back to your current task at hand as if nothing happened, and yes he absolutely WILL throw a fit when you pretend nothing happened.

• Claims he’s not embarrassed about the sudden kiss, but the shade of his face proves otherwise, he’s totally shocked.

• Deep down he probably appreciates it, but he’s simply too stubborn to admit it!

Shanks

• Sees it coming but pretends he doesn’t, will gladly return the kiss unless you’re feeling playful and run away. In which case a chase will ensue, he WILL get that kiss.

• kisses are such a huge thing between you two, much to the dismay of the other Red Haired Pirates, he’s such a physical and affectionate person, intimacy is a huge thing in your relationship!

• Hes so affectionate, and always playful with you, it’s almost as if you make him feel like a young man again.

•I personally think surprise ones would be his favorite because of their playful nature.

• The look on your face when you think you’ve shocked him simply makes him melt. So he allows you to believe he was completely unware of your plans, because he finds the expression on your face so worth it <3

Portgas D. Ace

• He is the king of suprises, though they blend in with pranks a lot of the time. He’s always finding ways to surprise you, whether it be with small gifts or tricks he’s picked up, he loves to impress you.

• So when you return the favor with a suprise kiss he’s over the moon. He was in his own little world, looking over the railing of the Moby Dick when he felt the peck you delivered. Prepare for it to be an all out kiss war!!

• Much like Shanks these kisses are playful! They involve you stealing his hat and usually tumbling over one another as he fights to get it back!

• I feel he takes enjoyment out of your suprise affections, because god knows he absolutely needs all the love you give him.

• He’s not shy giving you sudden kisses either, whatever you give him he returns! Whether you’re in the dining room, out shopping, on the deck of the Moby Dick, he’ll give you wonderful surprise kisses <3

Sanji

• He would be the most affected by your gesture. One minute he’s explaining how he seasons the skillet before beginning to cook, and the next you’re both hurrying to plug his nose up before he bleeds out

• While he’s explaining, there’s such a handsome smile on his face. Hearing him talk about something he’s so passionate about always makes your heart swell for him, so it was hard for you to NOT kiss him, it’s not your fault he wasn’t prepared!!

• He one hundred percent begs for more, going as far to turn his head and tap his cheek, asking for just one more!

• I don’t think Sanji would suprise you with kisses, but I do imagine kisses come with the drinks and food he brings for you.

• I also imagine Sanji times kisses perfectly. So that whenever it happens it feels like it’s out of a movie or a romance novel. He definitely has a knack for making you feel like you’re in the most romantic setting you’ll ever be in <3

Franky

• He’s probably going to react the most wholesome out of everyone, we’ve all seen him during sentimental stories, and he is truly the most precious cyborg!

• Loves it when you find him working, he’ll answer all your questions, none of them rousing suspicion until you ask him to look up

• That’s when you strike! Pecking his forehead while he sits idly, trying to comprehend what happened.

• Giggles non stop when you kiss him, his face will grow red and he’ll lean in, asking for more. He just can’t get enough of your affections!

• He will always return kisses, and as stated, will be an absolute giggling MESS! Only you can bring out such a soft and pure side of him

• The kisses you give him will simply make his day, if he’s ever bummed out or needing a recharge a cola is always nice, but you offer an extra incentive with suuupppeeerrrr kisses!!

2K notes · View notes

dixonsgirl93 · 9 months

Text

Daryl Dixon finding out you’re pregnant with his child and what he’d be like as a dad:

(I gotta be honest, I don’t normally like pregnancy/child tropes. They just don’t interest me in fiction HOWEVER this thought came to me. How would our sweet, traumatised boy react to having a family of his own??)

He’d be in shock, not believing you could really be carrying his baby, that he was gonna be a dad

He’d say he needs space/time to think about what this really means and he’ll disappear on “runs”. You wouldn’t hear from him for at least a couple weeks

He’d be terrified at first. Because of the idea of bringing a child into a broken world, because he fears he’d be a terrible father

He’d have to come to terms with not being able to run off and do his own thing. He’d have responsibilities now

He already knew he was never going to leave the pair of you. It was never in his mind to abandon you

He’d work even harder to protect you both, putting himself on the line more but secretly he’d enjoy it in a way, because he had something that was his and he’d give his life 1000 times over to protect what belonged to him

He’d teach them how to hunt from an early age, to fight, how to use his crossbow, the right berries and mushrooms to eat, how to fish and anything else Daryl knew, he’d pass it all on

What you wouldn’t know, was that when the child was much older, Daryl would teach them how to protect you both, should something happen to Daryl. He’d teach them to not let the grief consume them

While you were pregnant he’d kiss your belly loads, lovingly patting it and feeling the kicks. And when he first felt a kick he’d get teary eyed and it would be the first time he felt like a dad

He’d talk to his child while in your belly, telling them stories of the old world and of how badass he thinks their mom is

He’d be the first to bring you comforts, pillows, blankets, enough food so you could both stay strong

He wouldn’t be home too much, wanting better to be hunting for you, making a nursery for you but when he was home he focused his attention on you and the baby

He would be more anxious, wanting to provide for and protect you constantly but not being able to do both all the time

He would think of the family he lost and compare you and his child to himself, Merle and their dad, desperately wanting his child to have a better life than he did

When the baby was born, he’d spend a lot of time just holding and looking at them, memorising their features, looking for you and himself in them

He’d gently run his fingers over their soft skin. He couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could hurt a child, imagining his own scars and childhood

During childbirth he’d be at your side the whole time, encouraging you to be strong, giving you praises, clutching your hand and not caring that your nails were digging into his skin from the pain

When the child was older and told him that they were proud to have him as their dad, he’d sob, not caring who saw because it was something he’d been worried about for years. He was so certain he would fail any child in his care

If the child was a girl, he’d teach her not to take shit from men, he’d tell her about the certain tricks men use. He’d teach her to be strong and independent

If the child was a boy, he’d teach him how to be respectful to women, he’d teach him how to be a leader, how to protect people, how to be unbreakable but that emotional vulnerability was not weakness, but strength

He’d be a stern dad, soft sometimes but the child would quickly grow to be respectful, learn to communicate their feelings and feel safe and loved. Something Daryl never got

768 notes · View notes

not-that-n · 4 months

Text

I think Kotor 2 is a really funny game when it comes to the average analysis of it's themes, because it managed to create such a compelling antagonist that most people just kinda get lost into trying to analyze her words and actions through her apparent philosophical stand when she is just written to be a great hypocrite, something that they almost always fail to mention in the average analysis of Kreya's character.

Like she makes some points, that sometimes helping others without thinking about your actions can hurt them more than you could imagine and says some other things that are almost true but she frames them as a philosophy of might, you shouldn't help others because you are depriving them of their strength, because through suffering there's growth, through struggle you reach enlightenment, through individual freedom you reach apotheosis. She then reaches the conclusion that God, aka the Force, is the biggest chain of all and to be truly free is to kill the force, to reject fate completely.

She acts like she has some sort of moral high ground over the sith and the Jedi when in reality she is not much different. In a way, she does have some beliefs she follows without question, she still uses the force and if you ask her about it she admits the hypocritical nature of her argument, first comparing to a poison and then saying that that's just an argument of an old woman trying to justify it. She always talks about how there are no chains, how you must be completely free of fate because there's no determinate outcome, whatever happens being a result of your strength, yet she still betrays you by the end because there must always be a Darth Treya, there must always be someone that directly betrays the order in it's moment of need. That's fate, that should, and will, always happen.

I always read her admiration for the player originating from our achievement of her goals without becoming hypocrites like she is, something I'm sure she is aware of as hinted by her dialogue in her last fight. The player rejected the force, reject fate, through strenght of will alone, using it more alike a weapon than a dogma, but the player, in a way, still uses the force mostly as a way of unknowingly influence others, their strength is not in self isolation in pursue of the strength of an individual through the death of morals and complete freedom, but instead in connection with others.

In the dark side ending the player becomes Kreya, a hypocrite that acts on their own desires, on their own impulses, because they can, afterall they had the strength to reject the force once so they are strong enough to do whatever. On the light side ending the exile takes the correct path, not following Kreya but transcending her, becoming better than her, understanding that you can overcome the chains of fate not through individual freedom but through connection, in the light side ending you archive what Kreya never could.

I always read Kotor 2 as a story of abuse and trying to grow out of it, in this case Kreya being the abuser, breaking both Scion and Nihilus causing them to become what she hated the most, and the player character being her new target, the exile being able to either follow the narrative's themes and be able to grow despite the abuse or fail and become the abuser themselves, perpetuating the cycle, the chain, that I always read as what the force is supposed to symbolize in this story.

Kreya is a spiteful person that believes that she can not grow, that she can not change and become better, she accepts herself in her own hypocrite nature because of this belief, she understands that through her own argument, one of complete freedom and transcending any chains that bind us, she is a failure like the rest of her students because she follows her own chain, she believes she most perpetuate the cycle of abuse.

That's the reason why I always disagree witht he concept that Kreya steals the show from both Scion and Nihilus because both of them are different outcomes that the exile could have become, both are victims of abuse that thought they couldn't change.

There's this one study I always think about, how kids that came from abusive households were more reluctant to let go of their parents, and Scion reminds me of this, rejecting Kreya at every opportunity but being unable to let go of her, she defined who he became as a person, a failure in both of their eyes. That's why he is so mad when you are going to confront Kreya, he thinks of you as her favorite, as the one that didn't become a failure, as someone who could reject and grow from their abuse when he couldn't. And I always found so interesting that the way you beat him os through words because, well, because you try convincing him that he can change, that he can grow, you beat him not through a fight, through a show of strength, but through showing, arguing, that the abuse he went through is not an unmoving chain, that he has the capabilities of change. And he doesn't believe you, never does, he would rather die than think about that, that admit you are right, he reacts the same way Kreya does, dying rather than admit they were wrong. It feels incredibly tragic that this happens because you know it could end up in another way, you are that other possible outcome.

And Nihilus is a simpler character because most of the content related to him was cut, but I always read him as the complete rejection of Kreya, as doing the exact opposite of whatever she said even when it still ends up hurting him, becoming a shell of what he was once. That said, most of that is just me guessing something that would fit with my reading of the themes and is never actually said in the game, it's kinda hinted but I admit there's not enough information to confidently say that.

Anyways, my point is that I find kotor 2 quite a compelling story and, while I understand why most people only ever discuss Kreya, I feel slightly disappointed that most discussions of the game never really talk about anything else the game presents

#Kotor 2

148 notes · View notes

bhaalbaaby · 6 months

Note

Can I absolutely ask about a breeding fic?

Title: Waves Rush Over (3059 words) Pairing: halsin/f!reader Warnings: breeding kink, slight size and scent kink, praise kink, daddy halsin, fluff and smut, pwp A/N: sorry for the delay 🥹 life keeps happening lol hope you like it

Read on AO3!

Halsin's hands are just one feature you like about him. They tell his stories in more ways than his words. There are callouses and scars, scratches, and are heavy as he rests his hand on your waist and thighs when you sit on his lap. His knuckles can be rougher than bark, especially during the cold. You keep a jar of soothing balm near you at all times to help his cracked skin. Halsin stoically smiles as you apply it, nagging him to take better care of his skin. The children also mimic it, some asking you for mini jars so they can give them to Daddy Halsin if they notice his dry skin.

Those hands hold many tiny ones at once throughout the day. When his charges are not playing with Thaniel and Oliver, they find Halsin when he's not busy. While his hands are wisened by his years, his features soften. You notice a month after arriving in the former Shadowlands.

If a child isn't adjusting well, Halsin can sense it. He doesn't make the child feel singled out. You catch it once with a young halfling. He kneels in front of them, speaking soft healing words. You can't imagine the trauma the child has seen as you hear the small sniffles escape the even smaller body. Halsin then engulfs them in a hug, cradling the child until they fall asleep. You don't interrupt as you watch, your heart skipping over itself.

Though you have many children who claim you as their new parent, you could see Halsin holding your baby just like this, just as soft. You sigh as you finally leave the sweet scene. If it doesn't happen right away, you'll be fine. There's always the act of making one.

Halsin knows your body on a molecular level. You wonder if he can read your thoughts when he brings you tea when you're tired, medicine for pain during that time of the month. You notice the times when your hormones are peak that he's friskier. Kisses in the storage closets, his hands exploring your body while you try to cook. Sex happens still but there's never enough time to enjoy it, to indulge like you could before returning to Reithwin. Halsin can feel your frustrations, his little gestures easing some of them.

As you're helping serve dinner, he rests his hand on your waist, distracting as ever. You stand up straighter, the bowl of sweet greens from the garden on your waist. "May I help you, Daddy Halsin?" You ask, feigning annoyance in front of the children who giggle.

The corners of Halsin's lips curl up slightly as he nods. "Let me take over, my heart. I have a special job for you." Your ears prick up, letting him take the bowl from your hands.

He leans closer than he needs to, whispering in your ear. "Go to the kitchen. I'll be there shortly." You do as you're told, mostly wanting to behave for whatever he has planned for you.

Luckily, your wait isn't long. Halsin puts the bowl on the counter, shaking his head. "These children are growing stronger every day. Good thing for us our harvests have been bountiful." He glances over at you through his dark lashes.

You look away, heat creeping around your collar as you nod. "Yes, the land has blessed us. I hope they never want for nothing."

Halsin steps closer, tilting your chin up to him. You forget how big he is sometimes, the way he towers over you. He presses his lips against yours, pulling away when one of the volunteers comes in to get another bowl of food for the children. They snicker as Halsin still holds you in his arms. "Perhaps we should go somewhere more private," Halsin suggests.

You tilt your head to the side, "Wait, you didn't tell me what my job would be." You interject, gripping his leathery tunic.

"Ah, that." He smirks as he glances towards the door. "In all honesty, there isn't any new charge for you. Well, not yet." He clears his throat. "You're in heat."

Your eyebrows shoot up to your forehead at his blunt statement. "In heat? I'm not like an animal, Halsin," You giggle, his hands sliding from your waist to your ass.

"Not the same intensity as a bear, but I can smell it. When you bent over..." He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. "Your smell is intoxicating. I can barely focus, Tav. All I can think of is taking your body and watching you swell." You feel hot prodding on your stomach, proof that Halsin is telling the truth. He can't go back out there in this state.

"Poor bear," You coo as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. He exhales, growling softly. "I need you, Tav. Now," He growls, pawing you closer. Pressure builds between your thighs as you start to ache for him. If he doesn't move you now, he'll be forced to take you to the kitchen. You hope the cooks don't mind the clattering of pots and pans.

Halsin picks you up with ease as he leads you into his private room on the main floor. He sleeps in here when bedtime stories go on forever and the stairs are daunting so he says. You don't mind it as he shuts and locks the door. He barely gives you time alone as he sweeps you up in a passionate kiss, your breathing becoming one. You smell the woodsy musk and mint on his breath as your tongues intertwine. He groans, his arms wrapping around your waist, keeping your body flush against his. You close your eyes as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to keep up as he sways, getting lost in the kiss. You pull away, searching for breath as his lips travel down your neck, his hands searching as if trying to pull you even closer, melt you into him. The kisses continue down your chest as you fumble with your top, trying to free your skin from his lips.

He ignores the attempts as he gets on his knees. He stares up at you, his breathing heavy. "You are beautiful, my love." You laugh softly as you pull your restraints from your body, finally topless. You can't think of anything to say back feeling dizzy.

Halsin buries his face between your thighs, inhaling your arousal. You hold your breath, his face and breath warm. Each inhale causes you to throb more as you swallow hard. He sits back on his knees, smirking as he spreads your legs. You've seeped through your pants, the mark is more obvious as he stares. Without a second thought, he leans forward, his tongue slowly swiping up. Your moan catches in your throat, trying to stay quiet. Halsin continues regardless, his tongue swirling on the darkening spot on your pants. Your legs tremble as he teases you, his hands slipping from your thighs to resting on your ass to keep you standing. You bite your lip, massaging your sensitive nipples. Each tweak makes your hips jolt away from his mouth causing a dissapproving growl from Halsin. He pulls away, his eyes between your pants and your flushed face.

"Do not hold yourself back, my love. You surely aren't down here," He whipsers, as he drags your ruined clothes down. You try your best to kick them off, but they get stuck on your heel. You're grateful Halsin is on his knees as he carefully slips the fabric over your feet, tossing them away. He chuckles, his hazel eyes darken as he drags his fingers over your thighs.

"The thought of you dripping with me is too much to bear." His breathing becomes more pronounced as he speaks, his mouth waters.

"I can't take much more waiting." You say, your senses awakening as your nose pricks.

He doesn't need more encouragement to give in to his temptations. You lean back into the wall as his tongue laps at your folds, his hands keeping your legs firmly apart. You finally audibly moan as you watch him feast, his tongue flicking at your clit. His lips wrap around it, suckling the nerves. Your toes curl as his tongue continues its lithe licks. The sensations are overwhelming as you reach for something other than his hair to grab onto.

He buries his tongue between your folds as you grip his broad shoulders, moaning out as he presses you against the wall. He bobs his head back and forth, his tongue thrusting in and out of your dripping sex. His hands massage your ass as you tremble, feeling so weak each time his tongue enters, swirling around. You can barely say his name, your mouth unable to form words, thoughts barely forming beside the pressure building in your stomach. He glances up at you, his tongue dragging up to your swollen clit.

You curse, your hips jutting against the druid's face. He presses your hips against his hungry mouth as he suckles your clit, groaning as you writhe, trying to move away from the immense pleasure. He removes his mouth, raising his eyebrow as you gaze down at his face, panting as you try to catch your breath in this moment of reprieve.

"You are sweeter than any honey, my heart. Please, sing to me." He says as he guides your hips back to him, his mouth quickly finding your swollen button and making acquaintances as he flicks and swirls his tongue around it.

"I can't take this much longer." You cry out as your legs rest on his shoulders, wrapping around his head. He moans in response, his head rocking up and down as his tongue guides up from your entrance to your clit and back down, his nose pressed against your clit.

You're on the verge of exploding when you feel his thick finger prod at your hole his tongue making its way back to your clit. You gasp as he thrusts in, your stomach tightening. You try to run away again, but his other hand is firm on your backside. His gorgeous eyes glance up at you watching the ecstasy paint your face as he quickens his pace.

He pulls away briefly, licking his lips. "The way you squeeze around my finger... I can only imagine how you'll feel around my cock, accepting my seed." You massage your breasts again, wincing as you rock your hips with his digit, feeling so close.

"Please," You beg, not wanting to come from his mouth and fingers. You crave his cock more than ever.

He smiles as he carefully removes your legs from his shoulders. His hand however doesn't leave between your thighs, his middle finger thrusting inside and claiming your hole for him. You try to squeeze your legs together to minimize the gushing noises that escape to no avail.

He chuckles as he looks down, "Dripping to the floor. You are quite the sight." You glance up at him, pouting that he hasn't fucked you yet. He leans down kissing you breathless. Your head swims as you gain autonomy of your hands, reaching for his breeches and tugging them down. His heavy cock springs out, searching for your heat. You wrap your hands around his girth while his tongue and yours dance. You love how you taste on him, the essence of your arousal only adding to his delicious taste.

He pulls away, growling. His eyes are shut tight. "I must have you now." You wonder if the wall would give if he wild shapes into a bear now, but the thought fades as he picks you up, guiding your hips up to his cock. You wrap your arms around his neck, peppering kisses on his jaw as his hands sink your hips on his thick member. You rest your damp forehead against his jaw as you moan, your breathing ragged. You try not to give into the pleasure right away, your hole quivering as he slowly thrusts inside.

"Oak Father bless me." He moans, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he picks up his pace. You rest back on the wall as you attempt to watch him. His leather tunic is still on, not like he cares. You drag your fingers down his chest, panting. "You're amazing," Halsin moans with a small breathless laugh. He leans closer using the wall as leverage as he picks up his pace, filling you the brim with each thrust. You can't keep your moans down, pleasurable cries escaping your body as your cunt weeps for him.

"Fill me up please, my love. Breed me." You moan, resting your forehead against his. He groans at the statement, smirking as he bounces your body on his cock. "Oh, my heart. I will. Your womb will only know my seed." His mouth sloppily kisses yours, the wet sounds each time his cock fills your hole music to both of your ears. You whimper feeling his balls smack against your ass, his cock pressing deep inside.

His hands wrap around your hips, the extra force of his grip sending pleasure pangs throughout your whole body. You both need this. Your hips seize up as you push his cock out, the knots in your lower stomach too much to bear. He rubs his cock against your slit and cock as you stiffen in his hands, and goosebumps rush from your head to your toes. He chuckles as the orgasm ripples through you. "Such a beautiful sight." He whispers before gathering you up.

He carries you to your bed, the frame sinking as he climbs on top of you, his legs pushing yours up. He runs his hand down your neck to your hips, keeping you still as he slowly thrusts inside. You reach behind your head for the pillow, mewling as his cock claims you. Your mind clouds with only thoughts of him as he continues with his previous pace, pounding you into the bed. The bed is less forgiving, the squeaking and headboard hits against the wall with each thrust. You don't mind the extra noise as your nails dig into the feather-down pillow, fingertips pricked by the calamus.

He leans down, his intoxicating kiss taking over your senses again as he presses against your c-spot. You can feel his cock pulsating with each thrust, his grunts more pronounced. "Ah, I'm so close, my heart."

You whimper as you kiss him in response, your teeth dragging on his bottom lip. "Claim me, my body is yours." You moan as you let go of the pillow. Your hands meet as he presses your wrists down against the bed. He leans up, the headboard erratic as his face contorts, his hips flush with yours as he explodes. The feeling of his emission inside drives you over the edge again, your eyes closed tight as you cry for him.

His nose is stuffy as he breathes through his nose, trying to calm down. He keeps his cock inside of you as he sits back, rubbing your clit. You close your thighs together, his other hand rubbing his shaft. "Every drop belongs to you," He whispers as you clench around his softening member. You sit up on your elbows, rocking your hips against his. He laughs softly, his hand leaving his cock on your waist.

"I'm not as young as I feel." He admits. You roll your eyes as he readjusts, letting you ride him.

"I want every drop," You purr, bouncing your ass against his thighs.

He practically tears his shirt off as he throws it on the floor. "You may have it," Halsin replies, spreading your ass as you ride. "The need to breed you..." He lies back against the bed, spreading his legs slightly to give himself more leverage. You can feel his shaft harden, ready for more as he hits your spot once more.

Your legs tremble as you rock your hips. "I want it. I want to be your breeding whore." You moan as he takes over your pace, thrusting hard into you, his arms wrapping around your torso to hold you down.

You can't handle the immense pleasure that erupts throughout your body, your moans turning into breathless screams. "That's it. Good girl..." Your nostrils flare at the nickname, driving you insane.

"Please, Halsin, fill me." You pant, before biting and sucking his neck.

His growl vibrates in your mouth as he holds his hips against yours for a moment before picking up his speed again. He curses under his breath as his thrusts are more reckless, the familiar pulsing filling your hole as you throb around him, so close to another orgasm. His hand leaves your waist, finding your hair, tugging your face to his. "I love you," He groans, holding your face in place before Mount Halsin erupts again, overwhelming your cunt as his thrusts slow to sharp and precise ones. His moans are better than any song you've ever heard as he coaxes you to orgasm making you join him in a hueless haze.

You roll off him, breathing heavily. He sits up slightly as your legs spread, his seed seeping out. "Such a delicious sight. Had I more energy, I'd pound it back into you. Not one drop wasted." He remarks, ignoring the heat that comes to your cheeks. He leans over, suckling your nipple.

"Halsin," You whimper, your body a live wire. He pulls away with a small pop.

"The night is still young... I will get us some food and we'll dine up in our room."

You raise your eyebrow at the implication. He smiles as he slips off the bed. "We'll need some energy if we are to continue."

"Continue?" You ask coyly as you roll to your side.

He nods. "You will be thoroughly bred tonight, Tav." He grabs his pants and his ripped shirt from the floor. He nods at the door next to the bed. "That door leads to a secret staircase to our bedroom. Do not put anything on. I want you as you are. Just as nature intended."

You giggle as you slowly get off the bed, your legs not quite ready. "Do not keep me waiting." You say with a wink before disappearing up the staircase, excited for what the night will bring.

taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @tragedybunny @astarionsbeloved @thedancingbun @razrogue @celestialomlette @rentheannihilator @rinmoon7

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #nsft #writing #writing requests #asks #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #halsin baldur's gate 3 #halsin bg3 #halsin #requests

272 notes · View notes

justkending · 10 days

Text

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 3/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader

Word Count: 2100+

A/N Note: I was typing away for the next chapter to come, so chapter 4 will be posted tomorrow (it will also be longer too)! Thank you again for all the support and love you've shown me for this series :) Love all you guys!

_________________

Bucky’s POV:

Why’d I think she’d be able to handle an adult conversation as soon as I started getting serious? When will I fucking learn?

I waited until Y/N shut her door before I went back out to the living room. She drove me insane, but I decided to keep up the habit of staying up late for her.

During one of her drunken nights at one of Tony’s galas, she had revealed that she preferred sleeping when someone else was awake. In exposing her reason why, it made me sympathize with her trauma.

“It’s like having a night watch. If someone else is aware, I can put my guard down. Not that that even happens often enough, but oh well,” Y/N drunkenly swayed the side of her silk dress from left to right as she watched the people on the dancefloor.

I knew the feeling of never being able to fully settle into sleep or relaxation because you’d seen all the horrors in the world. We knew what lurked out there and the consequences of someone getting the jump on you.

So, from the first night here, I would stay up in the living room until midnight, sometimes later. Like clockwork, soon after 11 pm, she’d startle awake from a nightmare. I could hear her breathing and heart rate thanks to my enhancements, and I may or may not have channeled them into her room, given the nightmares she’d had in the past.

So far, there were none so bad to the point I had to go in and check on her, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tuned in to her room and checking every night in case the tides turned.

Even on the nights she frustrated me like tonight and made me reconsider why I was about to talk to her about… this. This chemistry that was starting to feel closer to real than fake. A feeling I can’t seem to shake, and now I’m wondering if I’m imagining it. Especially when she can’t seem to turn off her annoyance for me even when I think we finally have met in the middle to some extent.

Then again, I lead on that I don’t understand her when it’s quite the opposite. Her story is not far from most of the people who are recruited into our team. A form of a hostage situation where her choices were taken, and she was conditioned to serve some sadistic asshole until she was freed by her own doing. At least her own variation of that… Anyone coming from that kind of situation tends to bond easily over the trauma.

Not Y/N though…

I never start by being rude to someone. I mean, I’ve been told I’m intimidating and can come off as a terrifying giant assassin, but people in the same field who have seen far worse don’t tend to take that personally, considering almost everyone I work with knows my backstory and the reason behind my resting-assassin-face.

But Y/N, for some reason, was very standoffish with me from the get-go. For the first few months of us knowing each other, she ignored me, left the room when I came in, found an excuse for another partner on missions, and a list of other things that quickly made me believe she wanted nothing to do with me.

I may have reciprocated her behavior here and there, growing her annoyance with me even though I didn’t know where the annoyance had begun. I couldn’t help it, given the nasty looks and pure irritation that steamed off her when she looked my way.

I think the sentiment behind her feelings towards me still stands. But then her comment tonight, “I don’t hate you,” got to me.

I threw the laptop I had tried to use to distract myself again to the side. The TV was on, but all I heard was the patterned thumping in my chest starting to grow.

“No. I want to know fucking why,” I grumbled, standing up abruptly and stomping down the hall to the master bedroom.

The door was shut, and from how she looked, she may have already tucked into bed for the night, but oh well. We were going to talk this out. I couldn’t go another day trying to decipher these feelings and confusions.

I heard a “Jesus!” from the other side after my metal arm rapped three strong knocks in the center of the light sage-colored door. I banged again when I didn’t hear movement to follow up with it.

“Calm down, Paul Bunyan! No need to chop the damn door down. I was seconds from sleep,” she groaned before the door flung open, and she squinted up at me with the hall light bringing brightness to her near pitch-dark room. “What? What is it?” Before I could start my sentence, she tensed and looked around me vigilantly. “Shit. Did something happen?”

I shook my head quickly and instantly saw her shoulders go back and the grogginess return.

“I want to talk.”

She screwed her eyebrows up at me. “Dude. Seriously?”

“Seriously, dude,” I replied sarcastically, pushing past her into her room, turning on the light, and hearing a protest I was too annoyed to listen to.

“It can’t wait until fucking morning when my brain isn’t at 2%?” she crossed her arms, watching me from the doorway.

“Be real. Your brain doesn’t go below 75% even when you’re sleeping,” I answered, knowing the reality of never being able to shut off fully. Being constantly aware and on the edge of your seat, ready to pounce.

She eyed me since it wasn’t a diss, and I could see her debating whether or not it was a compliment.

“What do you-”

“You say you don’t hate me, but it sure as fuck doesn’t feel like it. From day one, it has felt the very opposite of that,” I cut her off with a harsh laugh at the end, getting right to the chase.

I’m standing at the end of her bed, arms crossed, and keeping an intense stare on her. Her stance straightens, and she shuffles her weight on her feet, arms mimicking mine.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it,” she said in a guarded tone. “What changed?”

“I can’t go on with this if I don’t know,” I answered honestly, motioning between us.

“I argue you have to go on with this either way,” she popped a hip, leaning against the threshold of the door frame.

“Y/N,” I level my eyes at her, and I can see her take in the seriousness in my features. “Just tell me why.”

She looks at me with a tilt of her head as if considering her options in how she wants to approach this conversation.

“We just don’t- mesh well…” she says slowly as if trying to sell it, but even she knew she was lying out of her ass.

“Bullshit. Try again,” I shook my head once and kept my eyes trained on her.

“Bullshit? You wanted to know-”

“I wanted to know the truth. You’re selling bullshit, and not very well, might I add. Be honest. Now.”

She huffed a laugh before blinking at me.

“We’re the same ranking if you’ve forgotten. Therefore, I won’t be taking commands from you, especially with that tone. But since you’re so hellbent on knowing my reasoning, maybe consider how you talk to me.” She took three slow steps closer to me as she spoke. “So ask me again without being a military servant, and maybe I’ll consider staying civil with you.”

She is one of a very select few kinds of people actually able to intimidate me. Her story was one to compete against mine. Though not many knew all the details since she was adamant about people being in the dark about it, we all knew what she was capable of. Her enhancements, although similar to mine, were not nearly as strong in most aspects. However, that didn’t deter her from being able to take a man quadruple my size down and keep them there.

I knew enough about her brain to know that it was one of the sharpest ones I had come across in my time. Everyone on the team had enough experience in this life to be able to manipulate a lot of situations, but Y/N was the queen of manipulating a situation to work out better for her and her team. It was like she was five steps ahead constantly, and it could be intimidating at times- not going to lie. A strategy someone in our field would think they had down until they saw her ridiculous efficiency at work. Hence, why she was her own kind of weapon for our team.

I give a single nod in acknowledgment, knowing my intensity would be matched and not work in my favor.

“You say you don’t hate me, and after these few weeks, I’m starting to believe you somewhat. However, our history keeps me from following that hope,” I answer.

She seems to take something from my confession and lock it in her mind for later use.

“Our history is complicated,” she replies, looking me up and down subtly and then moving to the side of the bed where the sheets were disturbed.

I now notice the detail that only one side of the bed was disrupted while the other stayed perfectly made. My own detail to lock away for later.

“But why? Who said it had to start like that?” My hands go up. She gives me a look like I should know the answer to that and I raise my eyebrows. “You think I’m to blame for our bickering and aimless fights?”

She scoffs, “I wouldn’t say aimless. There are definitely targets to be hit.”

“Cut the shit.”

“No shit to cut,” she counters quickly, sitting on the edge of the bed with one leg under her and shrugging.

“I’m trying to have an adult conversation, and you’re acting like an angsty teenager.” I deadpan, attempting to keep the twitch in my eye at bay.

“And you’re acting like a crotchety old man who demands my respect,” she shouts back. “Ever think maybe that could be the reasoning behind our never-ending feuds?”

“How could I? You don’t talk to me unless you're dissing me, fighting me, or attempting to make me look bad,” I give a large fake smile.

“Take a fucking hint then, Grandpa,” she enunciates her curse.

So I do. I backtrack our conversation and come to a conclusion. Maybe it's not an accurate one, but it's an idea nonetheless.

“You think I demand respect from you? When have I ever told you that you have to have respect for me?” I asked, more confused than angry now- but definitely not low in anger either.

She stares at me, contemplating her answer.

“Maybe we shouldn’t get into this,” she waves between us minutely, diverting her eyes to the bathroom door on the wall to the left.

“I won’t be able to sleep tonight if-”

“Not much different than most nights. Welcome to the crew,” she huffed, shifting to adjust her blankets over her in an irritated mood.

“Why are you so against talking this out?” I growl, forgetting all sense of mental clarity and stomping to her side of the bed, aggressively throwing her blankets off her. “Stop trying to go to bed and talk to me like an adult.”

“An adult?” She takes in a high-pitched breath and stands straight in front of me. “You’re the one who just threw my blankets off like a toddler throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get a cookie after dinner! Sorry to break it to you.” Her finger jabbed into my chest. “But I owe you nothing, Barnes! I owe no explanation. I owe no respect. I owe no reason for how I choose to act around you.”

I was pissed. Royally pissed, and yet… I couldn’t seem to see past the pure sadness in her eyes. The actual pain that she tried so hard to hide, but in her state- the state I had put her in- she was losing the battle. She was losing it and yet not breaking her eyes from mine, knowing I could see it.

My intensity shriveled slowly as seconds passed, and she didn’t try to fight the tremble on her lip.

“What did I do?” I asked softly, my hands instinctively coming to her arms, but the touch made her break the eye contact and turn fast, making my hands drop. “Y/N, what did I do?”

And I meant it. What had I done, and how could I change it?

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul

My Lovelies Forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter1 @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins @alyispunk @billyseye @hallecarey1

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes @katiaw2 @aikeia @stopjustlovethemcu @enchantedbarnes

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt Series:

@jackiehollanderr @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @theroyalmanatee @wintrsoldrluvr @alexakeyloveloki @learisa @bxckybxrnes24 @lillianacristina @selella @heletsmelovehim

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes miniseries #bucky barnes x avenger reader #mcu mini series #justkending #bucky barnes mini series #reader insert #mcu reader insert #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes x reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #marvel series #bucky barnes series #marvel fanfiction

111 notes · View notes

bonefall · 2 months

Note

PLEASE make Whitewater be the one who kills Weaselkit. It would be so (tragically) cool, like just thinking about it reminds me of other amazing BB scenes like the Elderberry and Ferncloud scene but on a smaller, background character scale. It would also be a cool parallel type thing to Spiderleg who attempts to kill his son during the same battle. Obviously Spiderleg and Toadstep don’t personally care about the death of a non-Thunderclan kit, so it’s not like they would be aware of the other family murder happening, but WE would know. And we would be shitting our pants. (I’m a sucker for generational trauma and parents failing to protect their children in fiction please mister bonefall)

I HAVE to do it. It fits too well. It's absolutely shockingly tragic and horrrible. Hell opened up and Owlclaw's worst nightmare came lunging out. I have so many thoughts.

Owlclaw has had a whole life dealing with the neglect and abuse he went through, taking it out on others as a bully, and it's only now seeming to get any better

Mentor Oakfur being even more of a parent to him than any other apprentice he's had, knowing Owlpaw needed it.

Whitewater had FINALLY died. It hurt like nothing else, because in spite of everything he loved his mother... but he was FREE

And maybe she was, too. Maybe in StarClan she could watch over him, perhaps now with distance her memory can be something positive.

There was a time he might have wished suffering on her. But he's going to be a dad, now. He's learned that holding onto grudges never seems to do anything constructive.

He started his new life with Pinenose, still in their honeymoon phase. They're a young couple and everything is moving fast, they're welcoming two little twins.

Weaselkit and... Happykit. He still thinks it's silly, but he said it as a sardonic joke because he couldn't think of a good name and Pinenose beamed. How could he burst her bubble?

He has NO idea that his mother didn't ascend to StarClan. Shes doonstairs. He's daring to assume the best, and she's embracing the worst.

She doesn't need long to be completely onboard with Tigerstar's scheme. She didn't even need a discussion with Hawkfrost. The only reason StarClan would throw her down here is because there's a problem.

So, she'll put it right.

The IMMEDIATE validation she feels seeing Harespring training in the Dark Forest is intoxicating. They ARE cursed!! One of them already found its way here!

(AND the spawn of that damn TRAITOR, Crowfeather. The bastard who betrayed Mudclaw's coup.)

Harespring started training here out of curiosity, and a speck of heresy to be totally honest. He wanted to know his biofather, Mudclaw, and StarClan couldn't be all that wonderful if it would allow his brother Kestrelflight to be forced into the Cleric's den so young.

But NOW, having met Mudclaw and hearing his side of the story, and now WHITEWATER landing here as well...

...he has never had stronger faith in StarClan before. Mudclaw was horrible enough. Whitewater is unhinged.

There is no doubt in his mind that these two belong here. The sad stories are outweighed by cases like these, so in his opinion, there SURELY must be things he doesn't know about innocuous cats like Houndleap and Featherwhisker.

He hates coming here, every moment he's trapped with one of his bioparents is a moment he wishes he was spending with papa Torear.

Harespring betrays the Dark Forest the minute he has a chance to. But it doesn't stop Whitewater.

Weaselkit's death happened so fast and they were so young that Happykit can barely remember it. Was it after Dustpelt crunched? ...he thinks it was during.

I can't imagine Happykit will be told about Whitewater until he's much older, but... he knows Weaselkit's death is what drives the wedge between his parents

(Of course that's too simple to be correct. Happy's smart in the way that you get when you have to grow up quick, but still a kid at the end of the day. Owlclaw backslid into old, destructive ways. Pinenose can't handle him and their child and her grief at the same time. They were a young couple to begin with. It shattered like glass.)

I'm not sure who dealt with Whitewater during the Battle of the True Eclipse, but she is definitely double dead. Part of me wants to make it Spikefur, Pinenose's next mate. But Owlclaw dealing with his mother a minute too late, after FINALLY finding peace with it all, is also gut-wrenching.

#BB!Whitewater #BB!Pinenose #BB!Happyface #BB!Owlclaw #Better bones au #Battle of the true eclipse #Botte #BB!OOTS

103 notes · View notes

books-and-catears · 1 year

Text

Unravelling Solomon

(many spoilers for chap 11)

Some personal theories and trying to look at the story from Solomon's lens.

Let's state some canon things we have noticed in the story of both Obey me and Nightbringer.

MC is Solomon's one true soulmate/twin flame

Solomon took an instant liking to MC in the very beginning, calling it mere curiousity.

- I think he sensed a Kindred soul. Just like Thirteen says we both seem like 'cheerful idiots' at the very first glance. Wouldn't Solomon would be even quicker to detect a soul similar to his own?

Thirteen claims our soul sparkles the same way Solomon's used to, it still does the same but just a little different.

- Solomon has gone through some unspeakable trauma damaging his soul to that level. And he's hyper protective that MC doesn't go through the same.

Solomon's card: Threads of Fate. MC's first red string was connected to Solomon.

- Okay, this might be a big stretch but hear me out. We all know Solomon's magic is strong and mostly accurate even in its most experimental stage.

So when his powder of revealing soulmates ended up showing all of MC's bonds - it inadvertently showed the strongest first. The strongest bond between two most similar souls.

....

Solomon's Obsession with Lucifer's Pact

Do you know who has consistently been a direct threat of MC's survival?

From the first dance, as he threatened MC while almost snapping their wrist in half to his most recent attempt on MC's life in the past - it has been Lucifer.

The Lucifer who would rather use his powers and hurt his own brother and an innocent angel just to exact his justice on a meddlesome human (cue the scene where MC protects Beel and Luke).

The Lucifer who doesn't hesitate to lose his head and attempt to destroy MC even though he noted how MC has been slowly and surely healing his brothers.

The same Lucifer who even now, tries to eliminate you as a threat even as his own brothers vouch for your integrity and you try to prove your good intentions.

Solomon watches helplessly as you constantly throw yourself at the mercy of this fallen angel.

In season 2, Solomon legit states that he would have stabbed Lucifer to save the three realms himself if it didn't upset you. Imagine how he must feel knowing you almost killed yourself to save this very demon - only to be hurt by this demon again.

Wherever Lucifer goes, his brothers tend to follow. He's the pillar holding the brothers together. Solomon knows the only way to keep Lucifer and some of his equally volatile brothers , he simply needs a pact with him.

What better way to ensure Humanity's safety, especially your safety, than to control the most probable cause of chaos?

But because he couldn't do that, so instead he started MC to be stronger in Magic, fortifying the defense on MC. Making sure MC can make the pacts to protect themself and humanity along with Solomon.

But still he knows, you're too kind for your own good and you don't have a heart cruel enough to give up on the demon brothers no matter what they do to you, so he still hopes to make the pacts himself so he can do what's necessary when things get worse.

.....

Solomon's Wrath and Request

Can you imagine how Solomon might have felt in the timeline where his MC was killed? The growing rage and guilt that it all happened so far away where he couldn't be there to save you? Barbatos had to merge the timelines for a reason.

Now imagine him seeing it all happen again, the fear in your eyes, your body frozen never even attempting to save yourself because you don't want to hurt the demons. But this time he's here - and he won't let it happen.

Do you know how much rage must bubble under his skin to reach up to this throat and peek through his never faltering smile?

The reason he begs and pleads you to choose humanity over the demons, it's only to make sure you're not caught in the wrong side of the war.

Of course he manipulates demons into pacts and acts shady around them, because look what happened to MC when all they did was be righteous, helping the brothers them the right way.

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me theories #obey me angst

577 notes · View notes

nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 8 months

Text

Your Scars Are Mine

Ch. 2

LA! Mihawk X AFAB!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Graphic Mentions of Violence, I guess that's it, I'm bad at this

⚠️ MASSIVE ASS TRIGGER WARNINGS⚠️ : Self-harm, Blood, Implied PTSD

Summary: In the few months that he has known you, Mihawk has noticed the scars on your arm. You've refused to talk about them and skirted around the subject successfully, but a trip to Shells Town throws everything out into the open in a way that neither of you were prepared for.

Ch. 1

Your words hung heavy in the air for a moment, before you opened your eyes, and gave a small smirk.

"But if that was a punishment I'm going to have to misbehave more often."

Mihawk shoved at your hip a little as your smirked widened. "We happen to be on a bit of time crunch, my dear," he reminded you. "I still have an appointment to make."

"Excuses," you said airily, rolling onto your back. You tipped his hat down over your eyes, stretching your arms back out behind your head. "What the hell is a vice admiral doing in Shell's Town anyway?"

"Apart from being a thorn in my side?" Mihawk shifted onto one elbow, his eyes passing over you as you lowered one arm to rest your hand over your bare stomach. His gaze landed on your arm, his mouth turning down in a frown as he took in the scars across it once more, like horizontal stripes across your soft skin, spanning from your delicate wrist to an inch above your elbow. "I imagine still handling the backlash of the sacking of Axe-Hand Morgan."

"He was fired?" you asked, amused. "What, because ofnthe Strawhats?" He gave a small hum in affirmation as you laughed. "That's hilarious." You shifted on the sheets, stretching your back with a slow sigh. "I may just stay right here while you handle your appointment. I don't think I can stomach so many Marines in one place."

"I would request that you venture out long enough to resupply." Another sigh left you, this one in clear protest. You had made quite clear your particular distaste for the company of Marines over the past few months, though not your reasons, a subject you tended to avoid as aptly as your scars. "It would lessen our time here." He rest a hand tentatively over your wrist, and didn't fail to notice how you recoiled slightly when his thumb brushed across a few of the mark. "Put us leaving as soon as I've finish dealing with Garp."

"Fine," you said shortly. Your arm slipped away from his hand, a subtle movement but one with a clear message, and pulled his hat from your head to drop it onto his, sitting up on the bed. You reached behind you and unhooked your torn bra. "The sooner the better. I am the errand girl, after all."

"Are you going to skirt around the subject forever?"

You paused for a moment—a brief, almost imperceptible moment—in picking up your shorts from the floor of the cabins. "No idea what you're referring to," you said casually, tossing his pants onto the bed.

"The scars," he said plainly, shifting to the edge of the bed to pull his pants back on, watching you disappear behind the door of the wardrobe at the other end of the cabin.

"There's no subject," you said, just as calmly, but he was sure he would have seen your shoulders grow tense had you not been hidden behind the door. "I've been on the seas for nearly ten years, anyone would have a few scars after that long."

"Ten," he repeated, his brow furrowed. "You're twenty-four."

"Nearly ten years," you repeated again. "It's not as if I've been pirating the entire time. That's only been...around six years."

"And what precisely were you doing prior to that?"

"It's a long story. And not a very interesting one." You shut the wardrobe, still buttoning a flowy white shirt—long sleeve, as usual, covering your arms. "And we're on a time crunch."

"We'll have all the time in the world after we're done here." As always—it was one step forward and two steps back with you. Mihawk stood and caught you by the waist before you could stroll out of the cabin, turning you to face him. Your shoulders were tensed, your jaw clenched as you met his eyes. "I hate to use our arrangement as pull, but if I must, I will." You averted your gaze as he lifted a hand and brushed a few strands of your hair behind your ear. "I prefer to know those working under me."

"Fine," you said through your teeth, pushing his hand away. "I go play errand-girl, you go play Garp's lap-dog, then we have a nice relaxing interrogation to round it all off, hmm?"

Mihawk lifted his eyebrows, a bit taken aback at how you swatted his hand away—but your scathing tone didn't surprise him too much. He wasn't exactly known for his openness, and it wasn't too big of a stretch that your own largely solitary career had kept you from being particularly open with anyone. That you would be defensive and stubborn to the point of hostility if anyone pushed the present subject.

But he could be plenty stubborn himself.

He lifted his hand again, wrapping it around your chin this time, resting his forehead against yours so you had nowhere else to look except for his eyes. He couldn't expect vulnerability from you without offering the same. Even if it was only a little to start, it was only fair.

He pressed a brief, deep kiss against your lips, and you met his eyes fully when he parted from it. "I love you. I'm fairly certain you are no more accustomed to hearing that than I am to saying it." You glanced away for the barest of moments, the tension in your shoulders easing a bit. "But it's the truth, and...I suppose it means there are certain matters we will need to meet halfway on. This is one of them."

"I already said I'd talk." The outright hostility had gone from your voice, but there was still a little annoyance buried in your quiet tone. "It's just...not an easy subject." There was something else there, sone other emotion, but before he could pinpoint what it was, you sighed and laid your forehead heavily against his broad chest. "Sorry I called you a lap-dog."

"Garp's lap-dog, at that." You hung your head lower with a small whine. "I've severed heads for less."

"Weird." You lifted your head, laying your temple against his shoulder and blinking up at him. "It's almost like you like me or something."

Mihawk could only stare at you in disbelief for a long moment as you grinned cheekily. After a moment he shook his head, rolled his eyes, and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

"Or something," he said, and tilted his head down to pull you into a firm, lingering kiss.

You looped an arm around his neck, sighing softly and melting against him. Priorities briefly forgotten as your fingernails raked lightly down his back, he tugged you closer by your hips and pressed you back against the cabin wall, pushing his tongue into your mouth, hands under the hen of your shirt—

Until a grating CRASH sounded outside, and the small ship lurched violently, immediately breaking your lips apart. He tightened his grip on your waist until the ship grew steady, registering what had happened as the pair of you heard the sounds of shouting and commotion outside. He gritted his teeth, lying his head back with a heavy sigh.

"I believe we've arrived."

"Oh—" Your eyes widened as his meaning truly sunk in. "Oh, sh—"

You shoved away from him, hurrying to push open the door to the deck as Mihawk placed a hand against the wall, pinching at the bridge of his nose. This day was not at all panning out how he had hoped it would—a potential kidnapping, arguing, and now crashing a brand new ship into a town full of Marines. He glanced over when you heaved a sigh of relief and leaned in the doorframe.

"Looks like we just hit the dock," you said, running a hand back through your hair.

"Is that all?" he replied dryly as you headed out onto the deck. He heard the sails lowering as he collected his wits and crossed the room to grab his coat.

"Doesn't look like there are any major damages," you called back.

"No damages?!" Mihawk paused in pulling on his coat, glancing toward the doorframe to see you peering over the railing at the bow of the sloop, as a particularly surly Marine cadet with cropped yellow-blond hair stood overhead on the dock shouting. "You've taken out two of the supports! Are you completely daft?"

You looked up at the cadet. "Not completely," you replied to him pleasantly. "And I assure you I'm more than happy to provide compensation."

"Oh, yes, because a teenage girl in a rowboat can afford the Berry required for structural repairs on an entire dock."

"I'm twenty-four." The pleasantries were quickly leaving your tone. Mihawk quickly strapped Yoru to his back, hellbent on keeping this from turning into any more if a scene than it already was. "And it's hardly my fault that my rowboat is more structurally sound than your dock, sir. Who's in charge here? I would prefer to speak with them directly rather than stand here and be insulted."

"As a senior cadet serving directly under Vice Admiral Garp, I am in charge here, miss."

"Sounds like he wanted you as far away as possible. Can't say I blame him—"

"I will have you know that I—"

"(Y/N)." You jerked your head over your shoulder as Mihawk stepped onto the deck, glancing at the cadet. Up close he recognized the boy as the son of the ex-Captain Axe Hand Morgan, though his name didn't come to mind. Clearly the self-righteous twig recognized him however, as his jaw fell open mid-sentence. You gave a small snort of laughter that you attempted, unsuccessfully, to pass off as clearing your throat. "Finish getting your things, I'll handle this."

"He called my ship a rowboat."

"I'm aware," he said wearily. He place his hand on top of your head and pushed you back a couple steps. You pursed your lips, tossed one last glare at the surly cadet, and stalked off toward the cabins. Mihawk turned his gaze back to the cadet, who stood at attention immediately on the damaged dock. "I'm afraid my associate and I were discussing business and lost track of how close we were to land. Fetch your shipright and have him write up an estimate. I will provide compensation to the vice admiral directly."

"O—of course, sir. My apologies—"

"And send word ahead to Garp that I have arrived. I would prefer not to linger here any longer than necessary."

"S—Sir."

The cadet gave a quick salute and hurried off as quickly as his feet would carry him. Mihawk rolled his eyes and turned, leaning against the back of the bow and crossing his arms while he waited. At least the ship itself had suffered no damages—as he had expected, given the strength of the hull's armor—nor had it hit any other vessels. It was a small blessing, if nothing else.

You emerged from the cabins with your daggers at either side of your belt, the head of a lion carved into each of their ornate ivory hilts that resting at your waist, your belt satchel strapped around your thigh and your throwing knife sheaths around your oposite calf. You were still pulling up one of your brown leather boots as you crossed the deck.

"What a mess," you commented, leaning against the bow next to him and cringing at the sight of the lop-sided dock. He watched you drop your hat onto your head from the corner of his vision, an old and tattered leather tricorne that you refused to replace as much as you refused to discuss its point of origin. "I'll pay for the damages. Being that it's my ship and all."

"If you insist on it, we will split the cost," he said. You glanced at him, frowning. "We're both responsible for losing track of time."

"Fair," you admitted, chuckling a little. "Fifty-fifty it is, then. I'm going to get a head-start on resupplying."

As you put a leg-up on the railing, Mihawk wrapped a hand around your wrist to stop you. You glanced over, frowning curiously.

"You'll be careful," he instructed. "I am under contract with the World Government, but you are not. Keep your head down." You had made your distaste for Marines clear on more than one occasion, and your interaction with Morgan's son minutes earlier did nothing but prove it. "Cadet or otherwise, don't get yourself into any unnecessary altercation."

"I'll be fine," you said confidently. He lifted an eyebrow at you, making his skepticism known. "I will. I've managed to avoid ending up with a bounty for six years. I'm not going to ruin that by making a scene right outside a Marine base."

"Good." He let go of your wrist, turning to the side to watch you climb onto the railing and hop over to the ruined end of the dock. "Out of curiosity," he added slowly, and you looked down over your shoulder, "how have you managed to avoid accruing any bounty?"

"Ah, well, that's the beauty of working as a mercenary, isn't it?" You crouched down, crossing your arms over your knees and leaning forward slightly over the bow, smiling. "Keeping a low profile. I've never spent long enough with any single crew to gain notoriety."

"Then what a lucky little thing you've been." He leaned forward against the bow, glancing around to ensure that no one was nearby, and then curled a hand behind the nape of your neck to briefly press his lips to yours. "Just be careful."

"I promise not to cause you any unnecessary paperwork," you said lightly, smirking. You pressed your lips to his once more before pulling back, his hand slipping away from your neck. "Hopefully your master won't keep you too long."

His mouth turned down in a frown as you grinned. "Don't push it, dear."

"Woof woof."

It took every ounce of his self-control not to seize you by your wrist and pull you right back onto the sloop—but he refrained, shaking his head a little as you straightened out. Your present locale was a bit too public, but it would be a different story when he had you alone later.

You cheekily blew a kiss, and Mihawk lifted an eyebrow, waving one hand in a shooing motion.

"Oh, so cold," you sighed, poking your bottom lip out in a small pout.

"I'd prefer to wait for the real thing."

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly, and his eyes trailed after you as you strolled down the dock and toward town. Still infuriating and intriguing in euqal measure, but Mihawk knew you were capable of handling yourself. If you detested Marines as much as you claimed, there was no doubt you would handle your business in town and return to the docks as quickly as possible.

The shipwright arrived minutes later, an old amicable and heavily bearded man who quickly assessed the damages to the dock and quickly wrote up an invoice. After maneuvering the small ship to the neighboring undamaged dock Mihawk carried a small chest of berry over his shoulder to the Marine base at the center of the town, and turned down escort to the vice admiral's office; he knew his way around well enough.

A cadet opened the door when he knocked, and left after him. Mihawk dropped the chest onto the heavy desk at the center of the sprawling office before rempving Yoru from his back. He took a seat, reclining back in the chair across from the old vice admiral, staring levelly at him.

"For the damages at the docks," said Mihawk, gesturing toward the chest as Garp briefly lifted the lid and looked back across the desk. "The estimate was twelve thousand. You'll find at least fifteen. For the inconvenience."

"Good enough." He push the chest aside to one end of the desk, and leaned forward against it. "You know why I asked you to come by, Mihawk."

"I'm afraid you'll have to enlighten me." He crossed one of his ankles over his oposite knee, folding his hands together. "I presume it must be important. I have a perfectly good transponder that could be utilized for lesser matters."

Garp leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand into his eyes in clear frustration. "The past couple assignments you've been assigned," he said. "You've sent someone else to complete them."

"I have," he allowed, and lifted his eyebrows. "As I know your other Warlords have done plenty."

"The other six Warlords have crew that are known by the World Government. You don't." Garp leaned an elbow into the arm of his chair, his brow furrowing. "I've heard a few descriptions. I also know the girl's in town. I could send word right now for her to be brought in on sight." Mihawk's brow furrowed as well, his posture tensing the slightest bit, watching as Garp shifted forward again and picked up a pen from his desk. "If you're taking associates under your wing, it's as much your business as it is the Wirld Government's business." He tapped at the paper in front of him, glancing down at it. "Young woman. Late teens to early twenties. Between five-foot-two and five-foot-four inches tall, carries two daggers and a handful of throwing knives. Sound accurate so far?"

"Yes," Mihawk replied through his teeth as he watched Garp write, all at once wondering just how much he honestly valued his alliance with the World Government. One single wrong answer, one wrong move, and Garp could send word down to have you taken into custody. For years Mihawk hadn't had a thing to worry about where this alliance was concerned. Nothing that could be held against him.

He drew in a slow breath, fighting to keep his temper in check in the confines of the vast office.

"Is there anything else?" he asked lightly, lifting his eyebrows.

"Brown leather tricorne hat," Garp went on, his eyes level with Mihawk's. He set the pen down. "A square patch sewn onto the left side of the brim. Couple more on the back." He lifted his eyebrows as Mihawk's drew down in a sharp line. "Hates Marines with a burning passion, I'd guess."

He still kept his mouth shut, his eyes locked onto Garp's as the old vice admiral stared back.

"Your honesty on the subject is tantamount to this girl's continued freedom," he said.

"Yes," Mihawk said again, finally. "I can't seem to see the issue here. She doesn't have a bounty."

"And she won't." He watched Garp pick up his report and crumble it into a ball. He tossed it across the desk, and Mihawk caught it. "So long as the correct people remain in power and she doesn't do anything stupid."

Mihawk glanced at the ball of paper in his hand, and back across at Garp. "Why?"

"She hasn't said?" He gave a hearty laugh. "Ask her how the Marines ruined her life. I'd bet you'll get quite an earful." He shrugged a shoulder. "Or a dagger to the throat, if she takes after her grandmother."

You had mentioned being raised by your grandmother—and being trained by her. Garp bent down in his chair slightly, pulling a drawer out behind his desk, and shutting it. He straightened back out and slid a yellowed old sheet of paper across the desk, torn and crumbled and faded.

A wanted poster. Mihawk lifted it from the desk, scanning over it, over the picture and the name beneath, his brow lifting a bit at the bounty—two billion, six hundred thousand berries.

"Helena Lionne."

At the sketch of a woman that resembled you so remarkably, grinning widely, tilting back the tricorne hat atop her head with an equally familiar dagger. Mihawk glanced up to see the old vice admiral lighting a cigar.

"They called her 'The Siren,'" he said. "She was the big game in town before Roger. We lost count of how many Marines she either killed or seduced. Only reason her bounty didn't rival Roger's is because she never attacked us unless we went after her first. Came out of nowhere, took the Grand Line by storm for a few years, then vanished. As good as anybody can guess now, that was when she decided to start a family. Settled down in a little village on an uncharted island with half of her crew and spent decades off the radar.

"The Admiral that finally found her ten years ago had a personal vendetta. She'd killed his father in front of him while she was still active and then personally delivered his head on a pike to the World Government Headquarters as a warning. They fought it out for a couple days. Destroyed the whole village before he got a hold of her granddaughter and used her as leverage. He never planned on taking her in alive. Slit her throat right in front of the girl and carried her head back to headquarters, along with a few members of her crew that managed to survive, and left the kid there to rot just to add insult to injury."

Mihawk's eyes only left Garp occasionally to glance back down at the old bounty poster. The woman who had raised you. Who you had witnessed murdered and decapitated by a psychotic Marine admiral driven by revenge ten years ago before being left to die simply for sharing her blood.

And now you were wandering a town full of Marines on your own.

God dammit.

"It didn't sit very well with his superiors," said Garp, as Mihawk folded the wanted posted and stuck it in his pocket, remaining silent as he waited for the man to finish. "None of it did. He and the entire crew he took along for the ride were stripped of their merit, discharged, arrested for murder. It took two weeks of interrogation for him to give up the location of the island. Took a few more days to get there from Marineford. Whole island was practically a rock. Not even damn tree left standing. Fourteen year old girl on her own for two and a half weeks, I figured she'd be dead, but her grandma apparently taught her a little more than anyone expected." He shook his head with a scoff, puffing on his cigar. "Little shit had made a spear to catch fish out of a throwing knife and a shovel handle she found in the wreckage. She was halfway finished building a goddamned raft. Kicked and fought the whole way back to the ship. We had to put her in the brig and take her knives because she was threatening to kill any and every Marine she could get her hands on. We still hadn't even figured out what to do with her when she managed to charm some poor fifteen year old cadet into stealing her weapons back and helping her escape on a dinghy. Just as bad as her damned grandmother. I figured she was dead meat then, but I guess she's done pretty well for herself."

"So it seems." Mihawk had no trouble keeping a straight face and a calm demeanor in almost any situation. His stoney expression didn't shift or twitch once while he listened, his posture remaining relaxed as he leaned back in the chair with his hands folded over his stomach. Yet the more Garp said, the more anxious he was growing to get back to you. "As much as I love our little chats, Garp, I do have prior engagements. I'm sure you didn't call me all the way here to just to provide me anecdotes about my, ah, assistant's personal history."

"Yeah, yeah," said Garp gruffly. "You've got a few assignments." Cigar clamped between his teeth, he shifted a few papers around on his desk and found a thick envelope. He tossed it across the desk at Mihawk, who lifted a single hand and caught it without any real effort. "They'll have you headed for the Grand Line. Off the record, I'd appreciate it if you kept an ear out for anything about Luffy. If he you hear he's come in contact with Fire Fist Ace, give me a call."

"Is that all?" Garp held his hands out and gave a short nod, leaning back in his chair and pulling his cigar from his mouth. "Good." Mihawk stood, lifting his sword from beside the chair. "I wish I could say it's been pleasant seeing you."

"Ah, yeah, same to ya." He sighed, making a shooing motion toward the door. "Cold bastard."

"Yes, well." He finished securing Yoru to his back, glancing at Garp. "One doesn't become known as one of the most powerful men in the world by behaving like a bleeding heart fool. That being said...."

He rest his elbow on the back of the chair for a moment, leaning to the side against it.

"Your old psychotic comrade." Garp puffed at his cigar, waiting. "I assume he's the one who gave her the scars?"

"Scars?" He took one last puff, putting out his cigar and furrowing his brow. Garp shook his head slowly. "Well, she had one when we found her. Here." He tapped the side of his neck, a couple inches away from a major artery. "He gave her that one. Planned on slitting her throat if Helena didn't cooperate. Apart from that...." He shook his head and shrugged. "Can't say I'm aware of any others."

Mihawk tapped at the back of the chair for a moment. As clearly perplexed as he was, there was no doubt that Garp was telling the truth. Answers that only led to more questions—this run-around was quickly getting old. He straightened back out.

"I shall contact you once I've finished my chores," Mihawk said finally, waving the envelope before tucking it into his coat. Garp just rolled his eyes, making another shooing motion.

"Feel free to let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."

"Of course."

As soon as he emerged into the empty hall outside the office and shut the door, Mihawk leaned against the wall and rubbed at the bridge of his nose with a quiet growl of frustration. His head was beginning to pound at the onslaught of information Garp had shoved down his throat in the duration of their brief meeting.

Your history, the beginning of your life outside the confines of the law was stained in blood and riddled with the horrors of man—and yet you hadn't mentioned a word of it before strolling off into a town infested with Marines. Nothing except the fact that you detested them and wished to conclude your business here as quickly as possible, indicating that those old wounds weren't entirely healed.

And still no answer to explain those damned scars—and he doubted you were going to open up to that discussion very easily.

(Ch. 3)

#opla #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk #fanfic #mihawk one piece #mihawk opla #one piece headcanons #fluff #mihawk x reader #smut

233 notes · View notes

eeldritchblast · 6 months

Text

Thoughts on Halsin

I want to preface this by saying I don't have anything particularly against Halsin as he is in game. But I do find him lacking in depth, when compared to everyone else.

Even without knowing that he was added as a full companion last minute, I would probably have guessed as much simply because there's not much to him beyond the role he plays in the Shadow-Curse quest of Act 2. This is lampshaded with dialogue about how he himself feels consumed by his determination to end the curse. But to me, that just feels like a cop-out. Imagine any other character looking at the camera and just saying "yeah I know I don't have much character beyond what happens to me in the plot, too bad?"

But I think the worst crime about his lack of development, is the fact that because he doesn't have a lot else going on, he feels a little overly sexualized to me; like he's just there for the player to thirst after because he's this big, bulky man. Now, to be clear, I don't care that he's horny, and I definitely don't care that he's poly. (My GF is a poly lesbian, and honestly I could see myself having more than one romantic relationship , too, if someone else was ever interested in me like that and cool with it.) What I'm trying to say is, because he's lacking in other areas, leaving those traits being of his few you can list, it makes them feel of less value, and makes him feel more like a sex prop. And if you're gonna have a character with rape victim as part of his background like Halsin has, then that's the last thing you want, I think.

So, what more could be done with Halsin?

I once made a joke that someone should draw Halsin in a "Big Auntie Energy" shirt. For those of you who aren't Native, let me try to translate: In most if not all Indigenous Nations, we often call women who are champions of our cultures and communities "Auntie", whether they are actually literally your aunt or not. An Auntie is someone you dearly love, and trust to guide you. Halsin already plays something of a mentor figure to the protagonist—indeed, dev notes even call him "avuncular"—so why not lean into it further by showing what he does for others, too? Pretending that there was more development time allotted, here's what I would've liked to see...

"This place crawls with life, but little of it flourishes. I see refugees, unhoused. The destitute, unwanted. Orphans, unloved. … I wish there was a better way. I wish everyone could see the sun, have a full belly, and know nature as a friend. There is a balance that is yet to be found." —Halsin

After ending the Shadow-Curse, Halsin says he needs to find a new purpose. I feel like his purpose could easily align with his horror of the inequalities of Baldur's Gate. Instead of just talking about how awful it is, why not allow the player to challenge him to try and change things, then? For example, I like to imagine Halsin telling stories to the orphans in Rivington, providing them comfort and someone to look up to. Or another example: Halsin helping out in or maybe starting some kind of charity meal program. It's small, but it's enough to say that he could actually grow a little as a person within the game's story. And it would add at least a little bit of engagement on the player's end as well, instead of feeling like the relationship with Halsin, platonically, is one-sided.

This all doesn't come from nowhere, by the way. If you exclusively romance Halsin, he says goodbye to the player in the end because he is leading a group of people into Thaniel's realm to start a new life. But personally, I feel like this is too great a leap back into an Archdruid role he specifically rejected, because he didn't like it. It also would've been nice to get this kind of dialogue without having to romance him; to know what lies ahead for Halsin as a friend, too.

Now, that's the good ending. But almost all the companions in BG3 have a "good" and "evil" ending. I feel like this really adds a lot of insight into the characters, because they feel real through it; we all have the potential to make good and bad choices, after all. So what could be Halsin's evil-aligned ending? Well, remember when he questions if the Shadow Druids actually have a point? How about giving the player the opportunity to push him further down that path instead... Shadow Druid Halsin, holy shit.

Now, there's one more thing I want to circle back to: Halsin's past. He very casually speaks of his time as a captive in the Underdark. And maybe it was so long ago that he's long dealt with such trauma, but still, I really wish there was a way to say "hey bud, that's really fucked up and I'm sorry that happened to you." But there's not a single dialogue option that allows you to express sympathy, besides just saying "that's awful", which doesn't cut it. Halsin himself says, "sometimes I think people look at me and imagine my feelings can't be hurt." Not allowing the player to be sensitive to his feelings goes exactly against this message not to judge a person's emotions by physical appearances.

Anyway, Halsin is a character that I think has a lot of potential, but doesn't quite reach it in game. I think it's great that he was given a bigger role due to popularity, but I just wish that role was expanded on to the same degree as the other companions.

#halsin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #meta #rape tw

121 notes · View notes

tortelette · 1 year

Text

It is god awful 4 am in the Philippines (insomnia growing worse due to worry) and I have one fucking theory on what fucking Demian said in the epilogue of Chapter 4.

Demian fucking returns to the presence of Dante as the Sinners took a feast for themselves at some restaurant and talks to them about the meaning and true purpose of technology and the morality behind it along with the concept of greed. One line took a fucking slap on me whenever I kept reading his dialogue.

This is...

A "The Little Prince (TLP)" by Saint Exupéry reference said by the Little Prince himself when he met the stranded pilot in the desert.

Back then when I was still studying religious literature and our main topic is TLP, there are many biblical references here and there from the snake who bit him down to the desert where the pilot has been stranded upon for some time. The sheep has many symbolisms back in my lessons, the common ones that I get to see are the spiritual transcendence of the prince, the representation of the truth, and the beauty hidden from reality. Mind you all that the story of TLP is quite imaginative and a sad one that gives the hopeful yet real life lessons of friendship, value, love, and loss. Hence many symbolisms are interpreted here.

Now that I mention those things... what does it have to do with Demian telling Dante to draw him a sheep like they promised to him? Judging from the structure of his tone, it appears that Demian knew Dante before Dante took their clock prosthetic.

Well my theory is that the sheep is the symbolism of "realization" or more likely "seeing the truth of humanity." Dante is a blurry yet blank slate when they saw that they lost their memories yet retained a sense of a trail of their true goal. Dante wants answers (an obvious reflection of decision for a person who knows nothing of the world) in everything around them and they are the ones who let's out the final decision to handle in everything with the Sinner's help. Hence, they take semi-control in seeing EVERYTHING and witness it along with them. So far Dante has saw the lives of four of their sinners (Gregor, Rodion, Sinclair, and Yi Sang) and see how cruel and unfair of the life they went through. Dante sees them all since they resonated as well with the golden boughs and sees a portion of their troubled lives. A normal happening of humanity in The City.

Dante has to draw a "sheep" to Demian, more likely... Dante has to share to Demian the "truth of humanity that they have witnessed through resonance with the Sinners in a refreshed look." In this chapter, it appears that Dante has to share their side of the truth to Demian about Yi Sang's life yet they appear to be at a lost as always. Just like a sheep that strays away from the shepherd's guidance.

Remember Faust's remarks when she stated on what would be Dante's reaction about their decision to suppress the bronze bull when they get their memories back? It is implying for me at least that Dante is a dislikable or negative character. I mean... look at them when we first started the entire game. Demian must have known this too and probably wants to get Dante to draw a sheep for him now that he can have a more "innocent" or understandable outlook about humanity.

In TLP, the sheep (if removing the more complex representations of various literary analysis) is a literal representation of one's ability to appreciate the beauty of all things through the heart despite the appearance. All of the sinner's lives are miserable in some way yet they are still "beautiful" for us because they manage to strive through their problems, they seek on the right of their belief, they live on to face their traumas, and to accept help from others in order to get back up. The disgusting experiences of humanity in The City is a facade that people always see, but the actions they have done that either support or combat those experiences is what makes it beautiful.

The truth of humanity, is the suffering that they have been through.

It would be interesting that Demian has the title of "The Little Prince" as a nod to it.

EDIT: How does my unhealthy insomnia theory get a lot of interactions- I... I am scared.

#limbus company #limbus company demian #limbus company dante #limbus company theory

273 notes · View notes

femfallenangel · 11 months

Text

nothing’s gonna hurt you , baby .

( tate langdon x fem!reader )

warnings ; cursing , wounds & nothing else , just pure fluff where Tate is the most adorable caring bbg ever <3

summary ; after a long day at new school , once you arrive home your father’s patient came a little too early for his session. noticing your injuries due previous school fight , he decides to take care of you well.

“ Mom , dad , I’m home ! “ a soft voice announced , shutting the big , wooden door behind you. No answer. You began searching the place , admiring all of the tiniest details ; some of them must’ve been here since like forever ! It’s been only a week since you moved here , here into this huge Victorian house everyone seems to admire. Some for it’s looks. Some for it’s story.

Your brows formed into a furrow at the sound of creaking floor upstairs. You were sure you’re home alone , yet the noises seemed to increase within each second.

“ Hello ? Who is there ? Mo- “ you were cut off at the feeling of a warm hand resting upon your smaller shoulder. Turning on your heels immediately , you faced a much taller frame of a boy , not much older than you , that’s for sure. His golden waves complemented his pale face so adorably , it made your face soften , chuckle even. “ Are you one of my father’s patients ? He’s not home right now , but I could call him if you’d lik… “

“ What happened to your face ? “ the male stood so firm next to you , a concern taking over his earlier monotonous mimic.

You touched onto your forehead , feeling the dried out blood under your fingertips. Your lower lip all swollen , a cheek starched on the right side. Sharpe exhale filled your nostrils as you gazed down your muddy shoes. “ It’s nothing , just … jerks at my new school. This place sucks , I can’t imagine myself bonding with anyone here really. They’re all full of shit. “ your mutter filling up the growing silence in the entire house.

Tate’s head tilted slightly to the right side as his dark brown irises lighten up in the middle of listening to your speech. Slowly lifting up his hand , he took the strands out of your face behind your ear to have a better look at your wounded , still adorable face.

“ I can take care of it though … “ your smaller tone assured him , eyes now locking onto his.

“ Oh , sit down. What do you usually drink ? Coffee , tea , anything else ? “ his filled with love and care voice asked you as he approached the kitchen , watching you sit down on a chair the closest to him.

“ Tea will do. Thanks. I just don’t really get why you’re doing that … I mean , it’s not that necessary … I’m ( Y / N ) by the way ! “ with a wide smile spreading onto your face , Tate could not refuse himself but to smile right back at you.

“ I know , your father mentioned you on our session. Pleasure to finally meet you , I’m Tate. “ the golden haired male replied as he put the pot on , taking two mugs out of the shelf in front of him.

His sight flew all around the room , searching hard for first aid kit. When Tate’s eyes finally reached the item , he grabbed onto it tight , placing himself right next to you. Analysing your entire , smaller than him frame , a chuckle left his mouth as he opened the kit.

“ What’s so funny ? “ you asked him amused by the sudden wave of joy , following onto his steps and letting out a giggle or two.

His dark eyes pierced right through your body as his smile dropped , tensing up atmosphere high in the air. “ Nothing , nothing … It’s just that you’re … you’re so beautiful. “ he replied to your just as sudden question , shaking his head off as he grabbed a wet towel , pressing it softly against your forehead , causing you to hiss almost silently.

A burning blush painted almost permanently all across your cheeks as Tate complemented your beauty , even if you could not see it yourself , you believed that every sweet word coming right out of his mouth is true , meaningful. Hissing under your nose quietly at the moment the wetness of towel meet your dainty skin made the boy bite onto his lip , trying to caress your skin more gently than before.

As the tried out blood was all gone , his fingers grabbed a couple of band aids , sticking them on the deepest injured places. He did not seem like a guy who’s doing such stuff everyday , yet the care , the precision made you quite impress and might have even awoke a feeling deep down in your stomach.

Your eyes seemed to be taken out of the world for the entire time ; you admired him with your mouth slightly opened , as if you were under some hypnosis. The time he spent to bring your look back to decent felt much shorter than in reality.

Bringing you back to the earth , Tate’s tall frame stood up the counter to fill both of the cups with hot tea , placing one of them right in front of you. He gazed down to meet your alluring sight once again , to see that flustered look on your face and drown in it one more time.

“ Tate , I’m really thankful for this , for … you “ you talked with unease , your joyful eyes looking straight back at his dark ones.

He did not talk back to you. His eyes just ran through you up and down again before finally wrapping his slender arms tight around you , pulling you closer his chest , his racing fast heart,

“ Meet me at the basement , 8 pm sharp. “

280 notes · View notes

sh1-n0bu · 4 months

Note

congrats on reaching 5k!!!!!

PomPom!!! (Hsr, platonic)

Hi!!! How are you?? I'm sorry I'm only able to help out when everyone else besides Miss Himieko is off the Express, or in the dead of night. I get soo nervous around them but you two seem to be the only people I can relax around. Especially when the General Jing Yuan came to visit??? I nearly had a heart attack when I thought they saw me. Don't get me stared on how Stelle/Caelus and March have been getting noesy especially about me in particular. Despite being the main culprits I know Welt and Dan Heng are also growing curious about me. I don't think anyone else besides the two of you guys have seen me, and I really hope to keep it that way. I hope keeping me a secret isn't that much of an issue,,, I promise I'll make your favourite hot chocolate and cookies for our movie night! (I am eternally thankful that Miss Himeko and you let me have my own personal kitchen in my room) Love you PomPom, I'll see you and Miss Himeko tonight!! Tell her I said Hi!!

Lots of Love,

your shy helper

𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜! 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙪’𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚!

to: pom-pom from honkai star rail

lately, there has been some rumors floating about the astral express. which, most times, is completely fine since one of the passengers loves to make up all sorts of stories with her wild imagination. and it has only been fueled by their latest passenger, the trash loving one. so, with their imaginations running rampant, it was only normal for them to come up with all sorts of stories to tell the express visitors at times. mainly the younger ones.

however, one day, the general of the luofu’s cloud knights had decided to visit his express friends with his retainer. the young boy went about everywhere, taking in the atmosphere and the magical energy of the galaxy traveling train. of course, taking his young age and curious nature into thought, the trailblazer told the young retainer how the express had its own spirit. they went on to great details of how the spirit of the express keeps the train in check, helping the conductor but also sometimes, stirring up trouble.

it didn’t get better as march joined in, talking stories about how one night when she came back from another trailblazing mission only the cute tiny round plushie replicas of the astral express crew. when march went to thank pom-pom about it, the conductor only expressed concern and confusion while himeko only giggles with a knowing smile.

yanqing believed every word of course, thinking that the express had its own ghost and was haunted. it only calmed down a bit when dan heng came over, gently smacking the two unruly adults over their heads and telling them to stop spreading lies. however, jing yuan stepped in at that.

“i feel something” the general of the luofu said, rubbing his chin softly as he looked around the main cabin of the express in deep thought. “there is indeed something here. a weird and new energy. something that’s a bit… inhuman and i’m not talking of the conductor” he briefly nods towards the rabbit, where they were watering the plants. briefly, jing yuan looked towards the chessboard out of the corner of his eyes, where he was sure something tiny zipped across.

and with that incident, what started as a joke quickly became a case that march and the trailblazer would diligently chase after. acting like they’re detectives, the two would speak of something being on the express to every visitors who visited. some getting scared, some finding the story funny and some seeming to have an odd recollection in their eyes. but one thing stayed the same. the two didn’t give up their detective work.

and their suspicions were further solidified when after argenti — a certain dramatic knight of beauty — helped the express to get out of the stomach of a beast that happened to swallow them. the express’ outer sides were completely alright! not a single hint of blotch or hint of being burned with stomach acid. completely clean and pristine as usual. that’s when the two came to the conclusion to call this entity “guardian of the express”. meanwhile, a certain guard of the express sighs and rolls his eyes at the shenanigans of his friends. a certain former herrscher laughing it off, telling the guard to leave them to their own devices as they seem to be having fun. on the other hand, a certain navigator and conductor stay hush hush about something, whispering to each other about something as the conductor hands over a letter to the coffee loving woman to let her read over it as well.

it wasn’t until after the rest had went to their separate rooms to rest up for the night, did the two of them sit down on one of the tables of the main cabin. pulling out a paper and a pen to write their own responses back.

“dear ‘guardian of the express’,

what do you think of the new nickname the trailblazer and march thought up for you? i think it’s pretty cool! since in a case, you are indeed the guardian of the express. passenger dan heng may be a guard of the express and an amazing one at that, but he’s also a human that needs his own rest and therefore, can’t keep the express safe 24/7. i forgot to say thank you when you kept the outer sides of the express safe when it was swallowed by the true sting. i was so worried that the stomach acid of the creature would damage it (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞!

thankfully you were here with us to keep the train and us safe.

i’m sorry if i can’t keep both passengers march and trailblazer from being too nosy about you. they tend to get a bit too excited at times about certain things. and that time is specifically now more than ever as we are cruising the star rail towards penacony. i just hope you can stay out of sight whenever they’re awake!

and as for the general of the luofu, i was quite scared of the man too! he seemed to know so much and visited the express a lot of times to the point of almost finding out about you. i was so worried when he first came over! and he also tried to steal me away from the express as well the other day ٩(ʘ益ʘ💢)۶ ٩(ʘ益ʘ💢)۶!

well, i hope you can stay safe and out of the shenanigans of some of the passengers and even the visitors. it’s alright if you don’t want yourself to be seen, me and himeko would keep your secrets safe!

with love, pom-pom the conductor of the astral express”

#nobu.writes #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #astral express #hsr #honkai star rail #5k followers

84 notes · View notes

skellymom · 3 months

Text

"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 2

Crosshair/Hunter x Reader Non Gendered SMUT++

Dividers by the talented: @saradika and @4ngelic-wh1spers

Background: Reader and Crosshair are separated from the group during the rescue of Omega and Tech from Mt Tantiss. Two broken people trying to get by in the galaxy. Then two broken people finally dealing with what happened to their group.

Word Count: 2.3K

Warning: Star Wars Canon violence, angst, death of major character, sadness, crying, guilt, permanent injury, stuff blowing up, swearing, kissing, intercourse, heavy petting, bite kind, blood kink, pain kink, spank kink, smutty/lemony content, lovers triangle with Hunter and Crosshair.

FOR CLARITY, HUNTER FLASHBACK SMUT SCENE IN CHAPTER 1. THE CROSSHAIR SMUT SCENE IS IN THIS CHAPTER 2. Broke this up in 2 chapters because I just couldn't stop writing...and 4K might be too much for one sitting.

I purposely wrote the reader in this fic to be of no specific gender. Tried to carefully craft the sexual scenes to accommodate either gender/non gendered/trans/genderfluid/non-binary. Everyone has hills, valleys, sexual organs, nipples, and erogenous zones. I wrote them into the story, but it's up to you dear reader to put your imagination to work. Hope I have done a good enough job that you can enjoy yourself with Hunter and Crosshair without breaking immersion!

To read Chapter 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744267915687264256/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-1?source=share

The intel proved to be correct. You and Crosshair traveled to an uncharted planet well past the Outer Rim. A quiet unassuming place to start planning a burgeoning Rebellion.

He piloted. As your ship entered planetary airspace several Rebel ships swooped in as escorts. The Rebel base radioed in to confirm your status.

“Crosshair, Clone Force 99 and Y/N, civilian. We are Rebel sympathizers wanting to join the Rebel cause and find our lost family and squad members.” You replied.

“Authenticating data. Hold your position.”

Silence as you and Crosshair waited on bated breath.

“You are clear to land. We will perform a customary inspection of your transport. Then check your gunnery and weapons at the docking station armory.”

“They’ll be taking my rifle OVER my DEAD body.” Crosshair snarked.

“Toothpick?”

“Hhm?”

“It’s your gun, NOT your dick. Let them do their job.”

He sighed and shook his head.

Word must have spread fast. No sooner did you land than Omega was out the bay door jumping up and down in excitement.

Crosshair barely got the gangplank down on the ship. You jumped over the stairs and landed on your hands and knees. Sprung up and ran to her.

Omega knocked you over with her embrace. You were both laying there crying. She had grown two heads taller and much stronger too.

Rebel soldiers had come out to check the validity of your claims. They stood aside seeing at least one of their residents recognize you. They had witnessed MANY reunions just like this as people were finding their way to the planet.

There was more: Wrecker wasn’t far behind. He scooped you both up and hugged you fiercely.

“AWWW...SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE! MISSED YA HORRIBLY!!!” Wiping away tears.

Echo approached with Phee.

Wrecker let you go, and you embraced them both with each arm.

“Phee...what happened???” Her beautiful hair was gone. Head covered and tied fashionably with a scarf. Burn scar down one side of her face. You noticed one hand had scars as well.

She shot Echo a strange look, then shrugged and perked up. “It’s growing back. Getting bacta therapy for the scars.”

“Tech? Hunter? Are they here?”

Echo answered “Come inside. We’ll get you settled.”

“Wait, I didn’t come alone.”

You turned towards your ship. Crosshair was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

Omega gave him a bear hug. He had allowed her that. Wrecker stood a few feet away watching them.

Echo took your hand. “Let’s give them some time to catch up.”

He and Phee led you inside the base past bustling personnel.

“Wait...I didn’t check my blaster...”

“That’s ok” Phee patted your shoulder. “We vouched for you. Crosshair though...”

You approached an open medical station with bacta tanks lined up...recognizing...

“TECH!”

He bobbed merrily in the solution, waving at your arrival.

You stopped to see he was missing both legs...just like Echo. There were scars all over his body, some weren’t present during his rescue. Tech saw your face and immediately started signing in Basic.

It is no major loss. I will be fine. Only 20 more rotations within this tank, then I shall be fitted for my prosthetics...please...don’t cry.

Things were starting to come together...Phee’s hair loss and burns...the Marauder being hit...

“WHERE’S HUNTER???” You yelled it in a panic.

Echo stepped in and took your hand. “Y/N... he...” The look on his face told you this wouldn’t be good news. Echo’s eyes registered the scarf draped around your neck.

There was a commotion behind you at the entrance of the base. Crosshair’s voice. Arguing with two Rebel troopers over his lack of compliance regarding check-in.

“Sir! We need you to...”

“NOT NOW! Can’t you see MY PARTNER is in distress!!!”

The trooper grabbed his arm. Crosshair immediately disarmed the man and put his ass on the floor. Then handed the troopers gun to HIS partner sneering, “I said FUCK OFF!”

The second trooper took the gun and commed for backup.

Crosshair stalked over gently putting his hands on your shoulders. Fixing Echo with his baleful stare. “Where’s Hunter?”

Echo fixed you both with his amber eyes. He sighed; his expression was so sad. “I’ll take you to him.”

Tech tapped on the tank to get Crosshair’s attention. Cross glanced over shocked. He hadn’t recognized who was in there. Then he noticed Tech’s condition.

I’ll be ok brother. He signed.

Tech put his hand up against the glass. Crosshair placed his on the other side against Tech’s.

The trooper’s backup arrived and trained their blasters on Crosshair. He turned and eyed them menacingly. Then dropped his hands from your shoulders, one of which you grabbed.

“Don’t start any shit, Toothpick. Please, this isn’t the time.” Squeezing his hand firmly.

He squeezed your hand back and stood down.

“Break it up Trooper. These are friendlies.” Captain Rex emerged from the back of the squad.

“But sir, he assaulted one of our Rebel staff. And he refused to check his rifle.” Pointing to Stormpuncher mounted on Crosshair’s back.

“I’ll handle it, Trooper. You are all dismissed.”

The Rebel squad eyed Crosshair uneasily as they filed away from the scene.

“Good to see you both alive and well.” Rex smiled genuinely. “But I’ll let Echo catch you up on everything.” He nodded to Echo and stepped away.

At this point Wrecker and Omega joined the group.

“Follow me.” Echo instructed.

You glanced at Tech as the group started to walk away. He smiled wistfully.

“I got them Brown Eyes.” She winked at Tech, and he winked back. But he still looked concerned.

Phee put her arm around your shoulder and walked with you. Crosshair followed at your other side silently.

The group filed through the whole facility: past logistics, maintenance, troop training, mess, quarters, a small prison area (mostly empty), daycare, pet kennel, a few non-descript departments, and finally to the back end of the facility. The group approached heavy double doors.

There was a sense of dread in your chest. Everyone was quiet. Echo looked heartbroken as he swiped his key card over the lock mechanism.

The doors opened to the outside. A HUGE garden stretching for over a mile...planted with the bodies of those fallen from the Empire. Headstones, holoshrines, helmets, and all manner of tributes marked each plot. Adults, children, military, civilians, even service animals. Droids who could not be repaired were erected as tribute statuary with holoplaques proclaiming their sacrifice.

Hunter was there. Laid to rest several rows down from the entrance.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

“This isn’t real...” Shaking your head but staring straight ahead at Hunter’s helmet propped up on his plot. “NO... can’t.” Tears running down your face.

Phee rubbed your back. “I’m SO sorry.” She was crying too. “Broody saved my life. I almost burned to death.” She pulled off the scarf to reveal the severity of her injuries. “I’m the reason he’s here.”

Wrecker piped up “Noo, that’s not true. He would’ve done it for anyone on that ship.” He hugged Phee.

Survivor’s guilt. Your heart went out to her.

Crosshair took your hand and silently encouraged you to step down into the memorial and go to Hunter’s plot. You inhaled and stepped down...then your legs gave out. Crosshair grabbed your right shoulder. Echo ran over and supported your left.

They led you to the plot. Wrecker, Phee, and Omega stayed behind.

Soft grass was planted for whomever wished to sit and visit. Hunter’s helmet was surrounded by vivid red Poppies in full bloom. Echo seated you upon the grass. Crosshair kneeling beside you.

“Can I do anything at all for you both.” He inquired.

Silence.

“Uh...I’ll give you some privacy.”

“Echo?”

“Yeah?”

You swept him up in a hug again. “Thank you...for everything.” Tears returning.

“Oh, of course.” He embraced you back. Holding on for some time.

Echo patted your back and cleared his throat. He let go and wiped a tear from his face.

Then he was gone.

Crosshair sat stone faced staring at Hunter’s helmet bereft of emotion. It was the best he could do at this moment.

You took off the red scarf, slipped it over Hunter’s helmet, and arranged it as if draped off Hunter’s own shoulders.

Like he was sitting right in front of you with his bucket on...

A sudden loud sob escaped. Each exhalation became louder until it ended in a scream. Your face red and pressed into the warm grass. Watering Hunter’s grave with your tears. Freeing the emotion out of the pit of your being. Screaming, sobbing until empty, finally collapsing from exhaustion.

The afternoon progressed and the sun started to dip down towards the horizon.

“Hey” Crosshair nudged you from disassociation. “Let’s go.”

Numb, you let him haul you up under the shoulders. Standing, your vision went snowy and black.

Crosshair must have carried you to the ship. The next few days were a blur, you slept through most of it. He hovered, fixing ration soup and just about threatening to force feed you. Trading whatever he could for black market sweets just to get ANYTHING into your belly. You barely remember Echo, Wrecker, Omega, or Phee visiting. Or AZI monitoring your vitals, reporting them well within range, that it was “only” grief and would eventually pass.

Finally, after days in your bunk Crosshair had enough.

“Soup!” He poked you awake.

“Whaa?” Weakly turning over, burrowing under the blanket.

“Get up. You STINK!”

“Fuck off Crossy...”

“Get up, or I’m throwing you INTO the refresher. Clothes and all.”

You ignored him.

Crosshair reached under the blanket and yanked you up. You caterwauled hurling swears, too weak to fight. But you were strong enough to hold on.

He opened the refresher door and attempted to set you down. You stuck to him like shit on a Bantha’s behind. It turned into a wrestling match, both of you swearing at one another. One hand pried off him, then another would latch on, finally tearing his shirt to shreds.

Cross gave up and flipped on the water soaking you both. The cold spray only made you hold on tighter, pressing against his chest for warmth. He gave up, sighed, adjusted the temp to warm.

“Will you wash my hair?”

Sighing again. “Yes.”

You let go and turned your back to him. Crosshair lathered up his hands.

“Wait.” You pulled the soaked T-shirt over your head and threw it in the corner of the shower. Now you're only clad in underwear. “Ok.”

He applied the shampoo and did one helluva job massaging it into your hair. You smiled and groaned at the sensation. He finished by twisting the hair into a soapy point atop your head.

“Will you wash my back and neck?”

Heavy sigh. But he did. His hands were amazing.

“Toothpick, will...”

“I’m NOT washing your dirty ass...or anything else. You can reach.” Cross rinsed his hands and exited the refresher, leaving you to finish the job.

You finally exited the shower feeling and smelling much better.

Clean towels and comfy clothing were waiting for you. A non-descript box sat atop them.

Dried, dressed, brushed your hair and nasty teeth. Then opened the box. The beautiful black and silver scarf from Mel and Marv’s stand. Toothpick paid attention...and had held on to it the whole time.

You put it on and made your way back through the darkened ship.

Crosshair was waiting, sitting on a blanket spread out on the floor. There was a multitude of fresh food and rations upon it. Also, a lit candle in the middle. The kind he would razz you about that “smelled like flowers and shit.”

You smiled. “Is this a date?” Attempting some levity.

“Sit your ass down and eat.”

“Thank you.” Caressing the scarf around your neck.

“For what?” He played dumb. You could see he noticed.

“Everything. Being there for...” You couldn’t bear to speak it. “Taking care of me, this food...”

“Can’t have you dying on me. Would have smelled worse than you already did.”

“Oh...and that shower brawl...” looking up from your food. “THAT was certainly SOMETHING.”

Crosshair grinned. “You owe me a new shirt.”

“Do I, now? Well, don’t wear clothes in the refresher when you decide to throw me in.”

He cocked an eyebrow while biting into a ration bar.

“Then when I grab something, it’ll be foreplay.”

Crosshair choked on his food.

You stuffed yourself full. Satisfied, thanking Crosshair again (who rolled his eyes), and wandered back to your bunk.

He had changed the bedding out while you were in the refresher. It was clean and the blanket turned over, inviting you to slide in.

It felt wonderful burrowing into the clean sheets.

But sleep was elusive tonight.

The grief was still too much for you both.

Two people alone on a dark, silent ship. The distance between you palpable.

“Are...you awake?” he furtively asked with hushed tones in the dark.

“Umhmm.” Intrigued as to why he asked. Sitting up and sliding your legs off to the side of the bunk.

Silence.

You sat there in the dark waiting for an answer.

More silence...

youtube

(You like a song to go with the following scene? Please check it out. Smutty, but emotional)

...then Crosshairs hand gently smoothing away the hair from your temple.

You immediately embraced him tightly.

He falters for just a beat. Body frozen for what seems like an eternity. Would this scare him away?

Then you feel his arms encircle you, lips upon your cheek...kissing down to your lips.

Unable to hold back any further, you turn your head to meet his lips to yours.

Mouths opening to breathe into the well of one another. Sliding upon each other passionately. Breaths furiously taken in between long heated kisses.

Then parting quickly to pull the clothing from each other's body. Almost ripping the cloth away from bare skin. Occasional moans of longing for skin-to-skin contact.

Finally free of constraints, he stops to visually take you in...

...he’s waited SO LONG for this moment. Couldn’t help admiring your strength while rescuing him on Tantiss...but finding out you bonded romantically to Hunter...

“I... I’m afraid...” Terror and shame on his face.

This shocks you to hear such words fall from his lips. He’s so VULNERABLE...kneeling next to you proclaiming his feelings.

You reach out and stroke the side of his face, then firmly grip this chin. “So am I. But it’s just the two of us now.”

You both stare into the lonely abyss of each other's eyes.

“And I CAN’T STAND being alone.”

“Then you WON’T be...EVER” He reaches out across the space between, pulling you to his body. His heat, his need.

You have your own need, your heat blazes HOT with his deep kisses. Tongues intertwining.

Then he pulls away to bury his face next to your ear whispering EVERY DIRTY THING he’s going to do to you while nuzzling and nipping your ear. Rubbing his hard cock along your shin, sliding along the wetness it leaves behind.

You moan loudly...” Oh...fuck me...”

“Mhmm...” trailing his tongue down your neck. His hands caressing the inside of your thighs. Stopping just short of your sex. Teasing his fingers around it...teasing you into fever pitch.

Your hand on his shoulder digs your nails into his flesh. He moans in ecstasy from the pain. Trailing down your chest to nip and lick at your nipples. Crosshair stares up adoringly with half hooded eyes.

His hand casually brushes your sex and trails away.

Smiling while he teases.

You grip the edge of the bunk, bracing your feet on the floor, and buck out your hips in the air, gasping, baring your teeth.

Then he playfully but firmly slaps your sex.

It pisses you off while turning you on at the same time. The tension building.

His cock is SO slippery against your leg. The breath coming from him labored and shaky. Tracing your thighs just so closely to where you want to be stimulated, then away again.

“FUCK ME!” You growl deeply through your teeth. Something FERAL awakening in you. Shaking, sweating, digging harder into his shoulder. It starts to bleed, and his eyes roll back in his head.

His facial expression turns intense. He slaps your sex again. You moan louder, then growl again.

The teasing. It’s driving you INSANE.

He knows you’re about to lose it...

Crosshair stops kissing your chest, put’s his snarky, sexy, come-fuck-me-face up to your ear...

“...Mmm...bite me...”

Back somewhere in your sexually addled lizard brain registers this could be literal instead of figurative.

And he slaps you...ONE MORE TIME...

Without thinking you sink your teeth into his other shoulder. Blood seeping into your mouth.

Crosshair screams out in fevered sexual ecstasy...frotting his weeping cock furiously against your leg.

His slapping hand comes back fully on your sex, furiously stimulating...

...kneading...

...filling up your intimate spaces...

...sliding....

...you buck your hips tightly against the hand that services you...

...as the pressure of your molars squeeze the flesh of his shoulder...it’s heavenly pressure...the taste of copper as you suck it down...

Crosshair’s fevered thrusts of his hips.

The fevered ministrations of his hand.

Ragged breaths mixed with groans...whimpers...

You release your mouth from his shoulder, as you gasp for air... blood trailing down his back from the punctures. Small crimson rivulets running down your chin, neck, across your erect nipples...you fall back...Pressing your head into the bunk...eyes widening...mouth open. His left hand on the small of your back like a spotter, his right sending you over the edge...

Clenching your abdomen...you feel that tickle...the beginning of...

Crosshair stops and pulls his hand away. You grab his arm devastated, angry even to be thwarted from your orgasm.

Breathlessly “I want to FEEL you...from the INSIDE.” It’s not presented as a question. But he’s waiting for your consent.

You reach down, stroke his sopping wet member. He moans and shudders. Then brush a ghost of a kiss across Crosshair’s forehead as you scoot fully onto the bunk and open yourself up to him. Your seductive gaze is inviting.

Up off his knees, he slinks over you on the bunk. Staring like a hungry animal.

For a fleeting moment, you don’t see Crosshair there...just Hunter. Your desire threatens to topple over into grief...all these emotions bubbling up from the surface. That scar will NEVER be totally healed. The sadness that will NEVER totally leave.

Crosshair watches the subtle changes of your expression and senses this. He understands. While there are differences, it’s his loss too.

He covers his body with yours, basking in the warmth skin to skin. Then takes your face in his hands. Touching foreheads, he whispers promises for you both in the future. All the things you will do together and the burdens you will both share and support each other through. Every one of them ends with a kiss as a promise.

“I’m not Hunter...but...I’ll work on being a better man than I was in my past.”

“I don’t want you to live in Hunter’s shadow. You’re different. Our relationship will be different.”

Silence.

“I’m SO SORRY you lost your brother.”

Crosshair covers his face with his hand. Silent tears spill out between his fingers.

You say no more and hold him tightly. Knowing it was A LOT for him to even let go like this. Knowing the relationship, he had with especially Hunter was fraught with so much emotional angst. And the heavy burden Crosshair holds about the horrible things he did at the end.

You both lay there for some time wrapped up together in each other's arms...just being. Crosshair’s head resting on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. You rubbing gentle circles though his hair.

Finally, he speaks, “Would you like me to finish?” Looking up at you seriously with those intense dark eyes.

You read him like a book. He knows you too well now. There’s a deep care for one another. But you both know the sex tonight will be for dealing with the grief. That's ok though. It’s an unspoken agreement of how this will help the two of you bond and heal.

You’ll both drink, fight, fuck, laugh, and all manner of things together while dealing with this shared grief. Whatever gets you by. It’ll bind you both thick as thieves.

“Yes.”

He kisses down your body to your sex. Licking, sucking, lavishing you with an intensity that prevents you from lying still. All the while grinding his returned erection into the sheets, soaking them.

You both begin to get vocal. He adds more stimulation with his fingers, driving you wild. Grasping the bedding, you arch your back again. With the pressure in your core, his tongue wetly sliding over your sex...your breathing reaches a fever pitch...the tingling returns...

“Crosshair...”

He stops, sits up, gently pulls your hips to position, and slides his length into you.

“Fuuuck...” he groans loudly, slowly pulling out, then slowly sliding in...he wants to feel it ALL. No rush. Just the amazing sensation...every inch...of him...against you...

...sliding out...

...sliding in...

His legs are shaking.

Your breath not just respirations but moans to the timing of his thrusts.

...sliding out...

...sliding in...

Crosshair’s eyes are hooded in desire. He can see you’re about to cum. A crooked, horny smile crosses his face.

The tingle becomes a wave...

IT RUSHES THROUGH YOU like beautiful warm surf racing towards your sex...

...and reaches its destination...

You arch your back deeper...He’s watching you at the apex of your orgasm. Time seems to slow down for a few seconds. Eyes open with no angst, anger, judgement, spite, sass...his eyes...the window to a man WIDE OPEN at this moment in time. He’s telling you with his eyes what his voice could not.

You’re staring above right into those eyes as your head presses just a centimeter deeper into the bedding...you inhale DEEPLY as those warm tendrils explode deep at the base of your core.

Orgiastic moan-scream comes from your mouth so intensely you feel it in the roof of your mouth. Vision fuzzing out slightly. Tiny warm explosions of nerves firing everywhere in your body.

Crosshair squeezes you tightly, screaming gutturally, eyes shut tight, and shuddering inside you with his own climax. Both of your sensory stimuli shut out to the outside world: Only aware of you both connected at the junction of your bodies.

And then the orgasm dissipates like a wave being pulled back out to sea. Seafoam settling in and tickling the shoals of your sex.

You feel warm and tingly...the rush of all those endorphins. He collapses gently on top of you. Gathering each other up in embrace.

laying in each other’s arms realizing the future is wide open. It's a bit daunting...scary even. But you have each other. And, for now, that will do.

PLEASE like, comment, and/or REBLOG!

60 notes · View notes