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prokopetz · 2 months

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Something I love about The Far Roofs is how much of a swerve its premise is if you're coming to it uninitiated.

Okay, so there's these talking rats with a culture of swashbuckling heroism – basic Redwall/Reepicheep stuff.

Also, there's a magical realm called the Far Roofs which exists above every human community, and that's where the rats go adventuring; a little weird, but you can see the precedents in popular fiction. It's like wainscot fantasy taken to its logical-yet-absurd conclusion.

By default, the game wants you to play as a fictionalised version of your (presumably human!) self and go up onto the Far Roofs to have adventures with the rats. All right, now it's coming together: it's like isekai fantasy meets The Muppet Show, with you as the obligatory human character, right?

Then we get to the nature of those adventures: the rats have this whole culture built around questing against beings they call "the Mysteries" – beasties with names like Harpy and Goblin and Unicorn. So basically it's a bunch of muppety rats on the roofs fighting Dungeons & Dragons monsters, and you go up and help them do it. Great.

And then you get to what the Mysteries are actually like, and... well, I'm going to let the following excerpt carry the weight here. (This particular bit of text also appears in a previously published work by the same author, so I'm not giving anything away that's still under wraps.)

Unicorn, which is named Numinous, dwells three steps away and beyond the world, but most often in the Farthest Roofs, where the Steppes of the Sky come down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court. There it is stepping upwards from the world, as it has always been stepping upwards from the world, caught in a moment of transcendent glory that does not complete. It simply is. Melanthios heard the footsteps of Unicorn. Melanthios heard the ringing of Unicorn’s bells. So Melanthios chased Unicorn off to the Farthest Roofs, and Melanthios did not return. Anton and Karel, who were his sons, were wiser than their father. They heard the bells but they did not follow. Instead, they memorized the scent. They gathered swords, and ropes, and nets, and they went out. They brought food and water and all manner of gear. They clung to the roofs with all four feet wheresoever after Unicorn they went. It proved no good. Anton looked up, and Karel to his brother. The world came down— That’s what Karel said. He had time to look away. He had time to bury his head in his paws. He did not see the fullness of Unicorn’s presence. He only saw Anton his brother become unreal. In the light of the moment of the Unicorn, Anton became as a paper figure in the fire. His reality burned out. His shadow seared into the roofs behind him. Where he’d stood, for just a moment, the Steppes of the Sky came down to touch the Vast and Earthen Court; and Anton was gone away. So Karel ran and Karel ran and Karel ran from the Unicorn; and all his life, he envied but was more fortunate than his brother.

These are gods. You're going up there to kill God.

Like, it's still silly wainscot fantasy with funny talking rats, but there's that tension. It's like if Fraggle Rock occasionally took a hard turn to serious cosmic horror – Lord Dunsany by way of Jim Henson – and that tonal juxtaposition was treated as something unremarkable.

Basically what I'm saying is go back The Far Roofs.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #the far roofs #dr. jenna moran #crowdfunding #kickstarter #violence mention #death mention

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saldziakrauje · 1 year

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anglosaxon neonazism will fall and be reduced to nothing but ashes and smoking rubble

#washington dc will look like the fucking eurasian steppes #i wish nothing but death and fire upon the cancer of north america and all of its supporters and all of its collaborators #may the terrorized nations of usonia be liberated and the concept of an american nation be crushed for a billion years!#a billion years!!

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theophan-o · 1 month

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Kto by śmiał kłam zadawać, iż w Roku Pańskim Anno Domini 1969 nie było żadnych fanowskich gadżetów z cudownego filmu "Pan Wołodyjowski", tego pozywam na walkę konną albo pieszą!

#ot zakładka do książki była #pan wołodyjowski #fire in the steppe #trylogia #henryk sienkiewicz #trylogia sienkiewicza #trylogiarchive #trylogia sensem życia

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diejager · 4 months

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I really really enjoy your writing so much!! I just wanna request a fluffy force 141 with reader in Christmas please 🥺✨

Mistletoe

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

Cw: kissing, teasing, mistletoe, brat!reader, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 993

“Och, would yer look at that, Bonnie.”

You followed his gaze upwards, his blue eyes gleaming with mischievousness when you caught sight of the green and red mistletoe hanging over your heads. Someone had hung one in the arching entrance of the living-room of your farmhouse, one you cohabited with the rest of the Task Force. It was your living arrangement after you’d all confessed your feelings after Soap’s near death, unable to hold back your tears when he woke up and spilling your heart to them.

“A mistletoe,” his grin was big and gleeful, staring down at you with an expectant expression, his lips puckered and cheeks flushed a light pink, “Yer ken what it means?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a small chuckle slipping from your lips as you stood on your toes, stretching up to meet him halfway. Your face burned, heating up as you pressed your lips against his, the light stubble around his cheeks scratching your face when he cupped the back of your neck, holding you still to deepen the kiss. Your mouth parted when Johnny’s tongue brushed your lower lip, letting him ravage you in a passionate and loving kiss. Curling his tongue around yours in one last embrace, he pulled back, a string connecting you both as you panted, your hands unknowingly finding purchase on his form-fitting shirt.

You jumped when someone coughed behind you, turning your head to look while you still panted, nodded eyes meeting the warm and tired browns of Simon, his adoring squint and curl of his lips at the sight of you both curled around in an embrace.

“Forgot something, lovie?”

“Yeah, ” you smiled softly, beckoning him over with the small pout on your lips. You pressed your back into Johnny’s chest, holding his arms around your waist, “Join us, Si?”

Without a word, he steppe under the mistletoe, interlacing his fingers with Johnny as they held hands on your hips. Simon pressed his lips to Johnny, a slow and sensual kiss that had Johnny relenting to the older man, letting him take it as his pace. You stared up, watching Johnny burn red from the romantically slow peck, his body shuddering against you. You loved how soft Simon was with everyone, his rough and dark countenance smoothing to a mellow and gentle gaze when he stared at you four.

“Didn’t forget about you, pet,” he narrowed his eyes at your cheeky smile, pulling away from the Scott to devour your lips, rough and emotional.

You heard Johnny rumble, a low and amused chuckle at the way Simon turned you into a whining and whimpering mess between them. You clung to him, pulling him closer to you and Johnny while he had his tongue down your throat, tears gleaming under your lashes as the Scott peppered your neck and the back of your ear with quick pecks. You felt warm, a fire brewing in your core, a wild and untamed flame made of brimstone and amber.

“Mistletoe, sir,” you grinned at Price after you tugged him under the same archeway, a small cackle slipping from you when you caught his surprised look, “Means I give you a kiss, yeah?”

His expression softened, his stormy blues gazing at you so lovingly that you almost felt bad for tricking him, but you had to go on with the plan. He lowered himself, head bowing towards you for the kiss you’d promised with the lively mistletoe hanging over your heads. A teasing grin broke through your smile the closer he got, his gruff face and bear-like beard making you giddy, and when he was close enough, you tipped your face left and planted a kiss on cheek.

It showed on his shocked and dumbfounded expression that this wasn’t what he expected when you told him you wanted to kiss him. The scoff he let out sounded offended, glaring down at your bratty laugh, unamused by your little trick to leave him wanting.

“Cheeky one, aren’t you,” it was an affirmation rather than a question, his mouth pulled in a snarl as he caught you in his arms, wrestling you still as he nuzzled your cheek, body flushed against him as he nipped at the sensitive skin of your throat, “You asked for it, sweetheart.”

His rough hair scratched your skin, irritating your neck in the best way possible as his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the sleeve of your ugly, Christmas sweater slipping down to reveal a sliver of skin for his hungry mouth. You laughed and squirmed in his hold, teeth kicking without aim and moaning when he sucked the skin behind your ear, lapping at the same mark Johnny placed an hour before. It added colour to your blossoming mark, your body shuddering against the deep rumble of his chest.

“A brat, yeah, Cap?”

You didn’t hear him walk towards you too, too preoccupied with John’s manhandling, gasping and mewling until your back met Kyle’s chest, his lean figure grasping at your hips and attacking the other side of your neck. Lips wrapped around your nape, coaxing keens out of you as you writhed between them, mouthing off at them for ganging up on you. They only stopped when your eyes rolled back, limply clinging to Price for support as your head laid on Kyle’s shoulder, panting and heaving.

“Not much of a brat now, are they, Kyle?”

“Not anymore.”

No words were needed at the breathless whisper, Kyle reached for Price, their lips locking over your shoulder, putting on a show of devotion and adoration for your tired eyes, mind numbly taking in the softness in their eyes. They were warm around you, one smooth hand and another rough and calloused, a perfect balance of soft and hard, pulling and pushing like a soft wave beaching the sand. Something fluttered in you stomach, an embracing warmth that left you wanting more, desperate for a tasted of love.

“Merry Christmas, doll.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @kaelysia @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

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fieldofdaisiies · 2 months

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Whisper of the Forgotten | pt. 5

pairing: azriel x reader | type: angst | words: 2,2k words | warnings: mentions of trauma and violence | masterlist

Your head whips into his direction, eyes wide open, heart racing. His shoulders are squared, shadows slowly dancing around him, his face unreadable, emotionless as he looks at you.

"I wouldn’t know what there is to talk about." You focus your gaze back on the book, trying to ignore him. But he is like a nasty fly, he lingers and then draws closer.

"About us."

"There is no us!" You spit and whirl towards him, getting up quickly. "You destroyed us five centuries ago!"

"Y/N." Azriel reaches for you but you rip your arm away. "Please, let me explain."

"You betrayed me. You left me to die, Azriel." You channel all the energy you have left, straightening your posture, squaring your shoulders. "I don’t want to talk to you, Azriel, ever again. I told you I loved you and a day after you betrayed me. I don’t think there is anything to explain."

You are seething with anger, fire blazing through your veins, your heart aching so fiercely.

"I loved you too.” His voice is hoarse, his chest heaving with a deep inhale.

"You wouldn’t have betrayed me if you really did,” you snap.

Azriel lifts his scarred hands, then drops them and looks desperate. Gone is the strong and powerful warrior, his shoulders droop, his lips quaver. "There was no other choice.” He swallows and a shudder courses through his body. “Please, listen to me. Please, let me explain."

"I don’t want to hear your explanation! I don’t want to hear it!" You are screaming at this point. "I can barely breathe when I am in the same room as you. You make me feel like I am getting suffocated."

Your shouts have been so loud, they alert Gwyn and Nesta who come rushing into the room.

The door swings open and Azriel whips around.

In an instant, Gwyn is at your side, your body vibrating so fiercely with anger and betrayal, she can feel it.

“What is going on?” Nesta asks, her voice kept level, but you can hear the anger and worry within her tone.

You feel how panic starts to rise within you and know that you have to get out. You are so close to breaking. You need to get out.

“I can’t do this,” you breathe and before anyone can stop you you run. Past Gwyn, past Azriel, past Nesta, your heart racing like a horse in the wild.

You rush outside the living room, down to the Library. You need to get away. Away from Azriel. You can’t be near him, the pain over his betrayal breaks once again.

───── ⋆⋅ ☽☾ ⋅⋆ ─────

“What did you do?” Nesta questions Azriel. Her brows are furrowed, her finger poking into his pectoral.

“I tried to talk to her.” Azriel lowers his gaze.

Nesta bristles and so does Gwyn next to her.

“I don’t know what exactly happened between the two of you, but what I know is that she is deadly scared of you and doesn’t want to be near you,” Gwyn says, frowning at Azriel.

Azriel shakes his head, the void within his heart only growing.

But what she doesn’t know — what no one knows— is that he loved you. And maybe, finally it is time to reveal everything. To Gwyn and Nesta, and later to everyone else.

“We used to be lovers,” Azriel admits in a low voice. And then he opens up, tells the whole story about how you met in Illyria —not in the war camps, but in the Steppes. Your relationship was new and secret, not even Rhys and Cass knew, but somehow Rhysand’s father found out about you and saw you as a threat. And then it happened; he wanted you dead, worrying you could defeat him, overpower him, or get in his way.

Azriel only had two options: your death or the Prison. Obviously he chose the latter. He would have done everything to save your life — even accept his own death.

“Do you understand why I need to talk to her now?” He is impatient, wants to follow after you, but the two Valkyries don’t let him.

Nesta inhales deeply, arms crossed over her chest. She turns to look at Gwyn and then says, “I don’t like the idea of you following her when she is so scared of being alone with you, but I think she needs to know the truth as well.”

It is all Azriel needs to hear. He brushes past Nesta and heads for the door. And then hurries to the Library until he stops at your door (he knows it is your door because he has been here before, followed you the other day but didn’t knock then).

His scarred knuckles rasp against the door, he inhales a deep breath and waits. Then he knocks.

“We need to talk, Y/N.”

He stands in the doorframe, not allowing you to close the door and it angers you. You want him to leave. He broke you. And now he stands here, thinking he can fix all the shattered pieces with a few words of apology.

“What I did was the worst I could do to you, but now that we got another chance I want to use it.”

Azriel is faster than you can react, sliding into the room, now standing right in front of you, so close you‘re breathing the same air.

“We didn’t get another chance, Azriel.” You move closer to him, despite what this does to your body. Despite the anger simmering within your veins, despite the wounds being ripped open once again. One by one, the pain is so strong it nearly makes you whimper.

“Because there is no we.” You spit the last part, jaw clenched, forehead lying in furrows.

It hurts so much, seeing him standing there, acting like what he has done is not the worst that someone could do to a person they allegedly love. He did not only break your heart back then, he broke your soul. And he broke the connection between the two of you.

You had felt it the first time you had laid eyes on him. You had felt it right in this moment – the bond. The mating bond, the probably most powerful connection between two people.

But he had given you no chance to reveal it. You had wanted to wait for the right moment, then you had told him you loved him and the next thing you can remember is getting caught, people – males– hurting you and him hauling you away to the prison.

You hated him in this moment. You have loathed him for that since then. But when you really think about it, you have to admit that hatred has never been the feeling in the foreground. It has always been pain. Hurt. Anger. Betrayal.

You loved him, more than anything in the world, more than your own life and he did something like that to you. Hurt you like that. You could have never been prepared for a feeling like this.

“I did it to protect you,” he whispers. His chin drops to his chest. “I never meant for it to happen that way, but I had to do what I did in order to protect you.”

You ignore him — not able to listen or wanting to listen to him. Your eyes are burning, the back of your mouth aching. You want to hit him, scream at him, but you are left without words. Your body feels exhausted, tired, empty. You want to sleep, and feel nothing.

“Do you have any idea what was done to me in the Prison? What I went through. What I had to go through. What I suffered.” You finally speak up after a long moment of silence. Slowly you lift your gaze to him, wanting to see the look in his eyes.

The former cold is now replaced by regret, remorse, his shoulders are slightly slouched and the corner of his mouth twitches.

Slowly, Azriel shakes his head. “I don’t know, but I can imagine. And I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” His throat works on a swallow. “I wish I could have protected you from all the pain.”

“You are the one who caused me the pain!” you scream at him, each syllable dripping with betrayal and anger. “You broke me Azriel.”

“I did it to protect you,” he once again says and you want to tear his tongue out for saying this all the time. It is bullshit. He did it to impress the High Lord. He did it to create a good image of himself.

The same thing you try now in order to regain your powers. You have to act good around the High Lord of the Night Court and his IC and once they trust you enough to give you back your powers, leave.

“Y/N–” he starts but you cut him off.

“Do you know what they did when they caught me? When your men caught me and brought me to you?”

You step away from him.

“I didn’t send them.” They weren’t Azriel’s men. They were Rhysand’s father’s men, but you don’t know that, Azriel realises in this moment. The High Lord had sent them back and he tried to be there before them, to save you from them, but he was too late and the damage had already been done.

“I tried to be there before them.” He folds his hands behind his back, his chin lowering the slightest bit.

You hold his gaze, tears burning in your eyes. Your hands move to your neck.

“Don‘t lie to me.” You grind your teeth so hard, your jaw starts to ache. But you hold his gaze, withstand the urge to look away. You won’t give him that. You won’t be weak in front of him.

Azriel swallows again and parts his lips, probably wanting to say another silly lie or apology, or probably trying to convince you he didn’t send them. But you don’t want to hear it. You lift your hand to stop him.

“Don’t lie to me, Azriel,” you say again. “Not after everything you have done to me.”

Your hands drop to the dress you are wearing and slowly you start to unbutton it.

Azriel’s breath catches because he has no idea what is happening. HIs eyes are trained on you, he can’t look away.

You peel away every layer of clothing until you stand bare in front of him. But this is not a sexual act and in his eyes there is no desire, no lust. There is only shock. Horror. Pain.

He is mortified by the look of your body. Your skin is marred, scars adorning every inch of it. The chilly air brushes your skin but you withstand it, having grown so used to it. The cold has slowly become you, you have become cold. Your heart has become cold, empty, dead.

“That’s what they did, Azriel,” you tell him. “That’s how they treated me when they found me.” You let the dress fall to the ground, shivering the slightest bit, you still hold his gaze.

You know what your skin looks like, having brushed your fingers over the marred skin many days, thinking about if you would ever be able to love yourself again.

But you have managed to do so. This is your body, your home, you temple, you would never hate it and the scars are only a testament of how strong you are, what you have survived.

Azriel says nothing for a long moment. He only stares, stomach coiling, chest squeezing.

“That’s what the High Lord’s men did when they caught me. All these scars,” —you brush your sharp nails down your cleavage— “is what the caused me when they tried to catch me, using their knives and swords.”

Your throat works on a swallow.

“And then you arrived.” You move towards him, stepping over your clothes. “And I thought you came to save me, that the nightmare finally has an end, but you hauled me away and put me into the Prison.”

You move closer to him.

“Do you want to see what they did to me?”

He wants to say no, but he can’t. He has to see it. You had to go through it and live with it. The least he can do is see it, knowing it will break him apart, but it is what he deserves.

“Show me.”

You slide your hand around his throat and slowly each sharpened, pointed fingernail digs into the flesh on the back of his neck, until you are inside – inside his mind.

tag list wotf: @goldenmagnolias @chessebookgirl @blackgirlmagicforever @mollygetssherlockcoffee @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @janebirkln @cleverzonkwombatsludge @namelesssav @sidthedollface2 @brujitafantomatico @ruler-of-hades @favsrachz @katherinejess @jesus-is-me @ashbatz @onyx-obsession @mischiefmanagers @thesnugglingduck @wandas-dream @emryb @esposadomd @marvelouslovely-barnes @landofpetrichor @sheblogs @zoe2 @leeknows-wife @secretlyhers @itsswritten @lupinswolfsbanes @auggiesolovey @going-through-shit @esposadomd @ithan-holstroms-girl @v3lv3tf0x @hibye02 @karinalight @darling006 @just-a-social-casualty @shedreamswithstars @dr4g0ngirl @quinzzelx @shadowsingers-redhood @sirenpearldust @rhysandorian @starcrossedsan @spideytingley @historygeekqueen @starryhiraeth @fasoaurore @thegirlintheshadows101 @sleepylunarwolf @kalulakunundrum @mybestfriendmademe @emryb @63angel @highladyivy @saltedcoffeescotch

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar x reader #acotar #azriel

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andypantsx3 · 1 year

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some barbarian bakugou thing idk | sfw | gn reader | 1.3k words

It's cold.

The fire crackles at your back, sending warm licks of heat up and over your spine, but it's not enough. You shiver, trying to settle deeper into the hard ground, drawing your cloak up over your nose where it's beginning to grow cold.

Normally, you'd be snuggled deep in your bedroll by now, but you'd stupidly tied it too insecurely to your pack this morning. It had come loose just as your group had forded the river on Kirishima's back, the redhead wearily but gamely shifting into his dragon form to get you safely across the rushing water.

As he plodded across, splashing loudly, your bedroll had tumbled into the icy water, and you'd watched mournfully as it had been immediately dragged under and carried downriver.

It was another day from the nearest town, another day before you could replace it.

When you settled into camp, Midoriya had chivalrously offered his own bedroll—which you had declined, as the loss of yours had been your own fault—and Uraraka had offered a warming spell—but you could see the exhaustion around her eyes and mouth since the battle yesterday, and she still looked pale and peaky. You thought another spell might finish her off for good.

But now you almost wish you'd taken either of them up on it, their discomfort be damned.

Almost.

Suffering the consequences of your own mess was the least you could do for them, really. You owe them everything for saving your life time and time again, starting when they'd first happened upon your village under a bandit raid, you the only survivor.

You've tried your hardest to repay them, stitching up wounds and mending torn clothes, taking over the cooking and fire tending whenever you make camp. Once you'd even talked a merchant down from chopping off Kiri's hand when he'd gotten a little too me dragon, must hoard over a ruby necklace at market.

You won't put everyone out over something as stupid as a lost bedroll, not when you owe them more than you could possibly ever give.

A cool wind whispers through the trees, and you can't suppress another violent shiver. You inch loser to the fire, barely caring if the sparks catch on your clothes and light you up in the night if it means you can be warm now.

You roll onto your side, facing the flames, and shudder again when the cold creeps under your cloak at the movement.

The heat feels good on your face, dry and blistering. But your back is suddenly freezing, and you fight down a groan of frustration.

You'll never get to sleep at this rate.

As soon as this thought occurs, there's the barest whisper of a bootstep behind you. Before you can turn, a hand claps over your mouth, and a hard body slides up against your back, an arm hooking decisively around your middle to pull you back against your assailant. The scent of ash and the sweet, floral oil he uses on his leathers gives away his identity immediately.

"Don't fuckin' scream it's just me," Bakugou growls low in your ear.

You blink dumbly, mouth pursing against his rough palm. "Fwuuh?" you say.

Bakugou Katsuki is notoriously standoffish, the member of your party you'd learned the least about in your weeks with them. A barbarian from the steppes, he's got little time or patience for your people's mannerisms. He seems to like very few things—his dragon Kirishima, his broadsword Hearteater, and the opportunity for a good fight being the exceptions—and you seem to be one of the things he tolerates the least.

He'd been the one who'd run his sword right through the bandit about to kill you, but since then he's acted like it was a mistake. He barely looks at you when you clean his wounds, he never accepts any of your rations when you offer them, and he's recently taken to combat training you, maintaining a harsh commentary on all of your best efforts.

It's a shame he's also so handsome and charismatic, as it makes it difficult for you to discount him entirely.

"Could hear your fucking teeth chattering from the other side of the campsite," Bakugou growls, his hand lifting off your mouth. Something heavy settles over you, and you realize he's arranging his cloak over you both, the fur trim tickling your nose. It's heavy and velvety and soft, and so nice and warm.

You know you need to protest but the heat of him at your back is so deliciously good, you want to relax into him like a warm bath.

"Bakugou—what is this?" you splutter out quietly.

"What, you wanna freeze your ass off?" he demands, his words a harsh breath into your ear. His arm shifts over you, pulling you tighter as if daring you to attempt to escape.

"No," you say, trying to scrape your thoughts in order. "No. But you—is this okay for you?"

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Bakugou growls into the side of your head.

"Well you don't exactly like me," you tell him, too exhausted to be circumspect about it. You know he doesn't like it when you talk around things either. "I didn't think you were cuddling type, exactly."

Bakugou huffs a dismissive laugh into your hair. "You always fucking decide shit on your own," he mutters. "You decide you owe us shit, you decide what's best for Deku and Uraraka to do with their magic and shit, you decide you think you fucking know everything. 'S fucking annoying."

You start, not realizing he'd cottoned on to your thinking process.

"Well I've also decided that you don't much like me," you say. "And I...I do owe you guys. You've saved my life countless times these past couple of weeks."

Bakugou makes a snorting noise behind you. "You fucking village people always think that's how the world works. Owing. A favor for a favor. Trading and bartering and stupid shit. That's not how it works out here, brat. There's no equal exchange. You stay alive if you're strong enough, or if someone likes you enough to keep you alive, and that's it."

His voice is even raspier than usual, you notice. He's tired. You can hear the impatience in the clipped sound of his words, and you know his exhaustion is why you're even getting this much out of him.

You're tired, too, the heat of the fire at your front and Bakugou's hard body at your back both lulling you into a lightheaded sleepiness.

"And you like me enough to keep me alive?" You can't help but ask dubiously.

"I like you well enough even though you're fucking annoying," Bakugou says, his breath stirring the hair at the base of your neck. "But I won't if you keep fuckin' talking."

You can't help but smile at that, a little tired grin touching your mouth.

"It'll be another thing I owe you for," you say, settling back into him at last. You know you will have other thoughts about this in the morning, but for now you can't help yourself. If he's fine with it then there's not much to protest.

"Y' can repay me by shutting the fuck up," he says, before he lets out a heavy exhale, as if he too is being lured into sleep by the warmth of your own body.

You decide to leave your questions about this for the morning. It's too much to contemplate what this means for your relationship to Bakugou. Too much to contemplate that he wants, for some reason, to keep you alive.

His hand presses to your abdomen, securing you even more firmly against him, and you close your eyes again. His breathing evens out, his grip growing slack, and you can feel your own body mirroring him.

Too easily, and without another thought on the debts you're accumulating to him, you slip down into sleep.

#bakugou x reader #merms this is for u bc u said u wanted more bakugou #this is probably not quite what u wanted but this is the bakugou i had in me today!!#im sorry i didn't put a read more i didn't want to lose the bottom text #bakugou barbarian verse

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tsunami-of-tears · 25 days

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Mission Accomplished

Poly+ ACOTAR Week 2024 - Day 4 (Adventure)

Cazriel x Healer Reader

Summary: Despite the Inner Circle’s best efforts, the throuple continues to fight their affection for each other. To help things along, Rhys sends the group on a fake mission (unbeknownst to them). Of course - everything goes horribly wrong.

Pairing Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.4K

Warnings: angst; violence; injury; animal attack.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

Reader

Weeks had passed since the incident with the love potion, and you’d given up on trying to figure out where it came from.

Despite the night of passion, your relationship with Cassian and Azriel remained mostly unchanged, albeit slightly more awkward. You were grateful to still be able to call them your friends - joking around with Cassian and your quiet chats with Azriel were your favourite parts of the day.

You felt torn. You loved both males equally and didn’t want to come between their longstanding friendship. You didn’t want to have to choose between them.

Their visits to your clinic had gotten less frequent, but Cassian insisted you needed some basic training.

“Let me at least teach you some self-defence,” Cassian pouts at you for about the fiftieth time.

You sigh, but smile as you roll your eyes. “Okay fine, it can’t hurt. But I’m no warrior, and I have no desire to be.”

“I know, the only thing you’ve slain is my heart,” Cassian jests. “But,” he says, taking on a more serious tone, “I don’t expect you to fight in battle, I want you to be able to defend yourself if Azriel or I’m not around.”

————

Rhysand

Mor waltzes into the office and throws herself on the plush couch. “Gods… They are even dumber than we thought,” she exclaims. “I really thought the potion would get things moving.”

Rhys runs his hand through his hair. “I know,” he agrees. “I’m sending them on a training exercise. Hopefully some time away will help them figure things out.”

————

Reader

You’re on your first-ever mission for the Night Court, camped deep in the forest of the Illyrian Steppes.

You’d been informed that there were some Illyrian camps causing trouble in the area. You weren’t sure how your skills would help, but you were on standby in case anyone got injured.

After a long day of hiking and scouting with little results, you’re setting up camp for the night. You stand over the small campfire, boiling water to sanitise your equipment.

The loud crack of a branch breaking sounds behind you, followed by a low growl.

You turn around slowly and find yourself face-to-face with a giant wolf. It’s enormous, towering over you. And those teeth… The sharp canines are exposed as it snarls at you. Your veins chill with fear and a sharp scream rips from your throat.

You cautiously take a step back from the wolf, narrowly avoiding the fire. You don’t dare break eye contact. You try to stand tall, holding the only thing within reach - a ladle - brandishing it like a sword, like Azriel and Cassian taught you.

You send a silent prayer to the Mother that one of your friends can save you before you become dinner.

————

Cassian

Cassian sprints from the other side of the clearing at the sound of your screams, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees you wielding a ladle against the angry beast. The terror in your eyes strikes something deep within him, stoking the golden embers to life inside his chest.

His soul erupts in fury, and the deep need to protect.

A battle cry sounds from Cassian’s lips as he charges towards the wolf with his knife out.

————

Azriel

Azriel hears your scream before his shadows alert him of trouble.

Adrenaline courses through his veins. The only thought in his mind is of saving you.

He winnows straight to you. Right in front of the wolf. Within a second of his shadows dispersing, Azriel feels something sharp in his left side.

He looks down and sees a hunting knife sticking out of his side, and a wide-eyed Cassian stepping back in shock.

————

Reader

You feel completely helpless as you watch the scene unfold in front of you.

One minute, Cassian was hurling his knife towards the creature. The next, Azriel had winnowed right in the path of the blade.

The wolf turns to look at the two Illyrians, who freeze under its yellow gaze. It huffs out a breath before turning on its heel and prowling back into the forest.

Azriel shakes his head, hand going straight to the blade protruding from his side, “I can’t believe you stabbed me.”

“You practically winnowed into my knife,” Cassian exclaims.

“Why didn’t you go for your sword? That knife would’ve bounced right off its hide,” Azriel bristles, irritation growing under his skin.

You leap right into action, stepping in as the tension between the males starts to rise. “Looks like you did need me here after all,” you say, trying to diffuse the situation. “Azriel, sit on that log. I’ll just gather what I need.”

Cassian stands back with his arms folded across his chest as you work on removing the blade and patching up the wound.

“It’s not too deep, look it’s already clotting. It might just be a bit sore tonight, but you’re going to be fine.” You attempt to give Azriel your best reassuring smile.

————

The rest of the night was strained. Both males were very quiet, only speaking in one-word responses. The silence was stifling, with the only sounds coming from the crackling fire and the scraping of cutlery on plates.

Unable to handle the creeping tension any longer, you retire to your tent early, leaving the males to work out whatever issues they have.

————

Cassian

Azriel could hardly look at Cassian, and Cassian couldn’t bear it.

His brother was staring into the dwindling fire, as he sharpened his blades. The sharp singing of stone on metal cut through the air between them.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” Cassian admits. “I was overcome by this need to protect. I was blinded by fear. I had to protect Y/N.”

Azriel finally looks up from his work, his expression unreadable before returning to sharpening his daggers.

Cassian runs his hand through his hair. He figured Azriel deserved the truth. “Y/N is my mate. The bond snapped when I saw her standing there, holding that damned ladle like it would’ve done anything.”

Azriel freezes, a mixture of confusion and shock in his eyes. “That’s not possible,” he says softly.

“It’s the truth, I felt it.”

“No… The mating bond snapped for me not long after I brought her to the Night Court,” Azriel states.

“How? We can’t both be her mates, can we?”

Azriels gaze is captured by something behind Cassian. Cassian turns to see what his brother is looking at and sees Y/N standing there.

————

Reader

You couldn’t sleep.

You tossed and turned, replaying the earlier incident over and over in your head.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by hushed voices outside your tent. The mention of your name grabs your attention, and you still your movements to glean what the males are discussing.

“Y/N is my mate,” says an exasperated Cassian.

Your entire world slows on its axis.

All thoughts eddy from your mind except one - your mate.

You quietly exit your tent, walking towards the males around the fire, when Azriel’s words stop you in your tracks.

“The mating bond snapped for me not long after I brought her to the night court.”

Both of them.

Both males whom you loved with all your heart were your mates.

Was this the Cauldron’s idea of a cruel joke?

You walk towards them, your mates, and the glimmering bond between you starts to appear. You can see the two strands coming from your heart, connecting your soul to each of the males before you.

As if they can feel your presence, they both look up at you.

“Y/N” Cassian murmurs, your name a prayer against his lips.

You touch your heart as you feel the deep longing flow down the twin bonds.

“Both of you?” you whisper.

“It’s rare, but I’ve read about similar occurrences,” Azriel admits, rising to his feet.

“But, how am I supposed to choose?” You say. Tears well in your eyes and your lip quivers at the thought of rejecting either male.

Cassian and Azriel exchange glances and a small nod.

“Who said anything about choosing?” Azriel asks.

“I know it’s a lot, you don’t have to decide anything here and now,” Cassian chimes in, reaching for your hand. “We’d be honoured to share you, if you’ll have us both.” Azriel steps forward, taking your other hand in his. “It won’t always be easy, but I’m willing to try for you. Truthfully, there’s no one else I’d rather be bound with,” Azriel finishes, meeting Cassian’s eye.

The tears that threatened to spill pool over the edge of your lashes. You nod earnestly as you send all your love down the bonds to your mates.

You pull them into a tight embrace, your bodies fitting together perfectly, like the final piece to a puzzle, the answer to a question you’d been asking your entire life.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Tags ♡ @littlestw01f @impossibelle @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @the-wall-willow @xasael @lilah-asteria @saltedcoffeescotch @mybestfriendmademe @therealmoonstone

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d4 #poly!acotar #cazriel x reader #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf

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tiyawnyana · 7 months

Text

Kinktober: Day 17

Begging

A/N: wrote part of this at work I felt like my face was on fire I can't stoic myself out of porn anymore

(Continuation from day 13)

Pairing: Neteyam x (fem) Human character

Warnings: teasing, begging, many orgasms, fingering, rough, p in v, squirting, creampie

¤¤¤

You really set yourself up. Dragging him off behind a tree, jerking him off until he was whining, struggling to stay quiet.

You knew it would catch up to you. Had no idea when though, unfortunately.

It happens a few nights later, in the privacy of your home in the labs. As soon as he steppes through that door, he had corned you, stripped you down without a care and sat on that old sofa with you strewn over his big thighs.

"Ne- neteyam! Erg, fuckfuck," you growl out, panting under the enslaught of his rough fingers.

Two long digits fuck into your clenching pussy with a vengeance.

Once he learned how pliable your cunt was, how it would spring back to the delightfully tight version he loved to tongue fuck, he got rougher.

He has your back arched beautifully with his free hand, fingers hard and punishing, dragging across your pulsing walls.

"Yes?" He coos teasingly. He massages your lower back tenderly and you're almost convinced that he'll stop. Almost.

He's managed to edge you, bringing you up that mountain only to sever the rope, having you crash back down to the ground; as well as overstimulate you, he's made you cum 2 times already.

You whine, face scrunching up,"Please- ugh, stop," your head slumps onto the fabric of the arm rest, a merciful feeling against your skin.

"Stop?" He asks softly, but speeds up his fingers. He then pulls back, slyly inserting his last finger alongside the other two, then thrusting in fast. The wet slap of skin has you whimpering in embarrassment and pure arousal.

"C'mon, gah- ugh," you babble mindlessly, not realizing that your hips have begun to stir, rolling back weakly onto his fingers.

"For someone so desperate to stop, your body is saying otherwise, paskalin," Neteyam lifts the hand from your back, gingerly brushing your hair away from the back of your neck where your skin lays sweaty and it's a swert gesture, your stomach fluttering with adoration,"Come, tahni, one more time."

He grinds his fingers roughly, knuckles brushing all the right places and you cry out, nearly sobbing out a moan as you jerk, cumming on his fingers again.

You heave for breath, slumping onto him completely. He's rubbing your back tenderly, whispering soft praises and petting the back of your thighs.

He then lifts you gently, pacing over to your work space and placing you in front of it before pressing you forward, chest laying down onto the cool metal frame. Your nipples stiffen up against it and you whine, tilting your head to rest your temple down.

He, again, moves your hair to the side, leaning down to press soft kisses to the back of your neck then moving down your spine. He stops at your tailbone, standing to his full height and unties his tewng, dropping it to the floor.

Neteyam eyes your form. Your eyes are closed, chest finally slowing as you relax, and he can't fight the grin taking over his lips as he grips the base of his cock, fully unsheathed by this point, gripping your hip and lifting slightly to press the tip to your sopping hole.

Your eyes shoot open,"Neteyam, no, you made me cum too much-" you whine desperately.

The tip slides in with ease and you groan. The growl he releases above you has your cunt tightening around the tip. His hips buck in reaction, driving more of this enormous length into you. The breath is knocked out of you when he's more than halfway in.

Neteyam takes a breath from his mask,"Breathe, yawne," his hand gently caresses your back.

You huff out a grumble, incoherent words of frustrated arousal making him snort.

He draws his hips back, then fucks into you quick and hard. The pace is unforgiving, you yelp in surprise as you reach that crest way too soon, crying out and rising up on your elbows. He feels your pussy walls clinging to his cock, hot and gummy and perfect. Then he stops.

"God- fuck! Why-" you whine, groaning in frustration.

He has hid cock pulled out so only the tip lays in the entrance, teasing and torturous.

"You were so mean the other night," he smirks, big hand pressing down along your back to hold your wriggling form in place,"Think I deserve an apology."

"You fucker-" you grumble, so horny and so close to cumming but fuck you were angry,"You liked it, don't act like you didn't-"

You cry out in surprise when he suddenly thrusts his entire length into you, gripping your hip in his other hand to hold you down. Makes you cockwarm him, holds you still as you sob out in pleasure. He fills you up, pressing into all the right spots with no effort.

Your chest heaves, body slumping back against the metal of your desk.

"What was that?" He brushes your hair away from your face,"Yeah, I did like it. Loved how you got all jealous, it was adorable. But you should still apologize."

You pant, at a loss for words. Your pussy stretches wide to accommodate his length and girth. You swallow thickly, nodding in defeat,"M sorry, Teyam," your voice is strained.

He draw back, thrusting back into you gently, an even worse pace as he takes his time unraveling you.

You shiver with delight, finally seeing that crest, hoping it'd be the last time. But it seems Neteyam is not so forgiving, again severing the rope and tugging his cock out of your pussy completely.

You gasp, groaning in disappointment. You blink at him weakly,"I apologized! What the fuck-"

"Beg for it," is all he says, stroking his cock and using your slick as a lube.

"What?"

"Beg for my cock, tahni."

You lift your head, peering at him in bewilderment. Your mouth opens in surprise, not knowing what to say.

He beats you to it,"Beg for me to make you cum, or I will make you get yourself off."

You shiver at his tone. He'd never been so.. commanding. But damn is it the hottest thing you've heard.

"Please, Neteyam," you start, whining lightly.

He only quirks an eyebrow, fist rolling over his length lazily.

Your face grows hotter and you bite your lower lip in embarrassment before huffing lowly. You reach back weakly, bones still feeling like jelly from the many orgasms, then spread yourself open. Your pussy and asshole are on display and you shiver; your cunt pulses, wanting to be filled. You hear the huff turned growl low in his throat and you feel yourself somehow get wetter.

"Please, Teyam," you make your voice whiney, sultry in a way,"Please, fuck me, make me cum."

He steps closer, teasingly pressing his tip over your folds,"Again."

You groan,"Please just- fuck me!" You plead desperately,"fill me up, fuck me, pleasepleaseplease."

He groans, finally pressing into you quick and harsh, immediately setting a rough pace. You're surely going to have bruises where your body bends over the desk.

He rolls his hips, bucking into you and groaning above you, moving to place his hands above you and lean down to nip at your neck.

You can't stop the stream of moans and cries leaving your throat, too far gone to the pleasure of him ruining your insides.

You faintly realize his thrusts into you are actually making a lot of noise, the desk slamming into the wall at the force of it, pens and other miscellaneous items toppling off to be ignored until tomorrow.

"Oh, god," you whine, eyes clenching shut as he bites your shoulder rougher than anticipated, but the hottest thing ever.

He groans hot against your skin as your walls clamp down on him.

"So good for me, tahni," he moans breathlessly, then leans back to press his hand down on the back of your neck and holding you there as he fucks into you at a slower pace, but the force is harsh. You shriek out a long moan, whining as his fingers wrap around your neck. They don't add pressure, but just the thought that they could has you jerking hard and hitting the hardest orgasm he's given to you.

Your slick squirts out, coating his pubic bone, dripping down his thighs and making a ring around his cock as he groans, thrusting just a few more times until finally he stills, hips pressed firmly against your ass as he dumps his load deep into you. It spews out around his cock and several splats of it hit the floor. There's so much, almost too much as it fills your cunt.

There's nothing but the sound of heavy breathing, until he begins to pull out of you and his cum begins to seep out of you steadily.

The aftercare is tender and soft, he showers you underneath the warm spray in your shower, gently fingering his cum out of you and managing another low, weak orgasm and you are officially putty in his arms.

You sink into his chest, wet hair dripping down to hit his neck and he smiles soft as you are already dozed off. He continues to rub your back softly, then cringes inwardly as he eyes the bitemark on your shoulder. He makes a mental note to make it up to you the next day.

¤¤¤

A/N: I am gnawing at the bar of my enclosure I NEED DICK

Nah but I wanted this version of you/the character to be sassier, a little more brash with her words and viola

Taglist:

@akoyaxs

(Lmk if you want to be added!)

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar smut #avatar kinktober #avatar way of water #kinktober #neteyam #neteyam smut #neteyam sully smut #neteyam fluff #neteyam x reader

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