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styllwaters · 5 months

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KNIGHT DEITIES

It's been a hot minute since I posted Vivere 44 art. Been intensely busy with school for the past few months but now that I've graduated I've got a lot of time to kill! Since the Knights post surpassed 1k notes I figured I may as well elaborate on them more. I'm so blown away by how much love they're getting already! Thank you all <3

I'm gonna talk a bit about Mountain and Plains Knight religions, mythology and a snippet of evolutionary history. I will cover Polar Knight religions in another post. The focus is on two gods in particular, Uwet-Jana and Kiraiarik.

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Uwet-Jana is the demigod of good health, vitality, and inner balance. In some regions they are also the god of fertility. The name of their Host is Uwetsil, and their Helmet is Serrjana. Mainly worshiped by Mountain cultures, Uwet-Jana takes the form of a Knight whose Host and Helmet are physically merged into a singular being.

Kiraiarik [pronounced ki-rai-ah-rik] is the personification of the host-helmet symbiotic relationship. They are the god of symbiosis, rebirth, and love. Kiraiarik was the name given to two immortal partners, a Host and a Helmet, who began as a singular being born to the sea in Ettera’s prehistoric era. Ettera decided to make them Two, one half (the Helmet) ruling over the sea and the other (the Host) having domain over the land. The story goes that in every form they take, they try to find each other - for their body remembers being One.

Both gods have lots of lore to their name. Further information below!

UWET-JANA

Uwet-Jana's Host body has long spines and red stripes like a Pike, and long fingerlike paws like a Helmet's manipulators. The Helmet section sports two long horns and elegant facial markings. Uwet-Jana has an iridescent sheen on their golden fur, catching the rays of the sun in a shimmering glow.

The story of Uwet-Jana is as follows: Both Uwetsil and Serrjana were born as runts, in a dark time when sickly Knights were seen as curses and not worth caring for. Their Order, believing them to be bad omens, cast them out to wander the tundra alone. They believed that the natural forces of Ettera (the Knight’s homeplanet) would quickly end them. However, Ettera took pity on the castaway, sending them three blessings. The first gift was a bone with marrow inside that ensured one is never hungry or thirsty again. Then, Ettera sent a warm, sweet wind into Uwet-Jana’s lungs which warded off all sickness and disease. Finally, a sun shower fell, the rains cleansing them and blessing them with a coat made of ivory and gold.

Transformed into a demigod with a hybrid body, Uwet-Jana was offered a place among the deities in the sky - but they refused, preferring to stay on the ground to share their gift with the mortals. Unbeknownst to them, their Order who had exiled them was struck by three curses from the Gods to mirror Uwet-Jana’s blessings: all the rivers in the area dried up and all their hunts were unsuccessful, leaving them with no food or water. Infections and diseases picked them off one by one, and a great storm ravaged the land, destroying their home and all remaining survivors. Uwet-Jana now blesses Knight Orders who take care of their sick and ailing members, and ignores those who don’t, leaving them to the wrath of the Gods.

Although they are nomadic and always on the move, many Mountain Orders will refuse to leave any sick members behind. They may also keep ivory statues of Uwet-Jana in their bags as a token of good fortune. Sometimes these statues are filled with bone marrow, or have holes which make a whistling sound as wind passes through it as a reference to Ettera’s gifts. Occasionally Pike Helmets are born with an extra long ‘horn’ spike, and are considered a child/reincarnation of Uwet-Jana. Additionally, whenever it rains while the sun is still shining, it is seen as a blessing from the demigod.

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KIRAIARIK

Kiraiarik's Host is depicted as a small creature with a striped pelt to mirror its ancestral form, and the Helmet as an aquatic beast with long, trailing red fins. It is frequently shown twisting around the Host, sharing its blood. Kiraiarik is also often simplified as two disembodied eyes looking at each other. (And yes, the artstyle is a nod to medieval depictions of heraldic beasts!)

To understand Kiraiarik, one must be aware of how much Plains religions are intrinsically tied to concepts of evolution and paleontology.

Digression on the origins of Etteran symbiosis:

Large stretches of Plains Knight deserts and scrublands were once submerged beneath the sea. As a result, there are countless fossil hotspots which have been unearthed over the centuries. These high concentrations of fossilised remains have lead to Plains cultures basing their religions around said discoveries. Although many features have been warped, the general timelines are strikingly similar.

For instance, a mass extinction event occurred on Ettera millions of years ago, caused by a series of catastrophic volcanic eruptions on a worldwide scale. This event is known in Plains culture as The Remaking, traditionally interpreted as the planet shedding its skin. Many species were decimated, but some groups survived; these happened to be phyla who possessed an exposed ‘Interfacer’ organ, a precursor to the specialised Integrator organ which connects the Host’s brain to the Helmet’s. Before The Remaking, there was no prior record of the deep symbiotic connection which Knights possess (scientifically deemed ‘Hyperadvanced Mutualism’). The Interfacer organ was used in the phyla for species to communicate simple stretches of data to each other, such as health and reproductive status. After the extinction, populations of these species were dwindling. To ensure their survival, an odd phenomenon occurred in which many individuals began to interface with different species who possessed the same organ - strangely enough, some were able to successfully exchange information. These individuals survived and passed on the practice to their offspring, eventually culminating in what would be discovered as a very primitive form of mutualism. Host and Helmet ancestors (pictured above) were some of the first species to achieve this.

As the planet recovered and populations increased, the relationship continued to solidify and become more complex, with symbiotic species sharing memories, emotions and complex thought. In modern times there is now an entire class of organisms on Ettera which possess an Integrator organ for Advanced Mutualism, including Knights.

Kiraiarik is said to be a manifestation of this relationship. After The Remaking, their two halves finally managed to find each other again, eternally locked in a joyous dance of love. (Side note: the love in question is not platonic nor romantic, but a deeper kind which is indescribable and not easily understood. Due to their intricate nervous systems, Knights have a higher degree of emotional intelligence and can experience sensations we would consider alien). When a Plains Knight is experiencing inner turmoil, they will often pray to Kiraiarik to restore a healthy connection. The god’s blessing is also called upon when an infant Host and Helmet first Assimilate.

Note: Many Plains ‘saints’ and deities have palindromic names which can be read both forwards and backwards, an indicator of holiness. Fun fact, the word Kiraiariku means “Your heart and mine are very old friends.”

Thank you for reading! More Knight content coming soon ;)

#come get yo foood #vivere 44 #my art #knights #speculative biology #spec bio #speculative evolution #sophonts #spec evo #xenobiology #art #illustration #worldbuilding #artists on tumblr #good god I have been working on this for over a month.#also been playing around with a fun new brush #a bit painterly and experimental

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darlingdekarios · 1 year

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hibernate.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 6,152 content: Arthur Morgan x f!reader, animal hunting mentions, cannon-accurate outlaw behavior, cowboy meet cute, Arthur Morgan is a simp, snowed in, fluff, smut [v fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cockwarming], kink(s) [spit as lube]

it was like fate insisted on the two of you colliding.

The first time you’d met Arthur Morgan was a lovely March night in New Hanover, opportunities abound as the hustle and bustle of life was at its highest point of the year, the weather the most tolerable for moving about. Returning from an evening of fishing now that the water wasn’t frozen in some areas and sketching birds by the river when he stumbled across a lone figure boarding train – well after midnight. He followed on horseback under the cover of trees in anticipation, joined by your own horse shortly after. He followed alongside with a hold of the strange horse’s reins until the train came to a stop.

He'd strained to hear you, considered boarding after you to clean up any straggling guards – it wasn’t his business, so he didn’t – but curiosity held him close. When the sound of police approaching quickly began you emerged to the top of the train, looking around desperately for your horse. Temporarily frozen when the moonlight caught your face and confirmed to the man that you were a woman, he recovered just in time to spring into action.

It had been Arthur who had led your horse to you and instructed you to follow. It was Arthur’s path that led you away from the law and eventually far enough away to be free of their hunting.

“Are you some kinda lunatic, lady?” he questioned when the two of you slowed side-by-side under the cover of thick trees, his face hard-set and stern. “You coulda gotten yourself tossed away for a long time back there.”

“I didn’t, though,” you laughed, and despite the feeling that burned in him that he couldn’t quite place as anger or worry Arthur’s stomach flipped at the sound and the way your laugh reached your eyes. You adjusted your hat with a playful smile on your lips, keeping the reins to your horse in one hand.

“Thanks to me,” he asserted, the stress causing him to light up a cigarette and adjust his hat. His eyes caught your gaze and you held it, appreciating his handsome features for a moment as your smile twisted wider.

“I would’ve figured it out, cowboy – you can be sure of that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ve seen your face on ‘wanted’ posters, Mr. Morgan,” you proclaimed, tone proud as you called him on his identity. He took another drag from his cigarette before leaning forward comfortably in his saddle, outstretching a hand toward you.

“Arthur,” he offered, amusement flashing across his features when you shook his hand firmly. “And I’ve seen yours, too. What is it they call you…?”

“The Panther,” you replied, that proud tone ever-present in your voice. “A nice tribute to my best hunt.”

His poker face was too well-trained to reveal that he was impressed – that he was intrigued.

“Well next time you go thinkin’ of doing something so goddamn stupid like rob a train at midnight alone,” he began, gruff voice filled with frustration as he attempted to present his unamused façade. “You could invoke that particular nickname and be a little more subtle.”

The second time was just as circumstantial. It was July – the heat sweltering, the air sticky, the fireflies sparkling in fields at night. You’d been riding for days, hunting gators in the swamps for weeks and now headed back to a more familiar area where you felt more at home. Just past Emerald Ranch you’d spotted him on the road ahead – his hat unmistakable and burned into your mind, his horse giving away his identity to anyone who knew it.

There was no questioning if he’d want your company – you didn’t even give it a thought. Instead, you’d hastened your own horse to catch up with him.

“Where ya headed, cowboy?” you questioned as you approached from behind, adjusting your hat back on your head to offer more of your face to him. Your voice immediately sent a shiver down his spine, the barely-there smile crossing his features unmissed by you.

Four months trying to remember your face and voice hadn’t done it any justice.

“Valentine,” he replied, slowing his horse’s stride to match yours. The two of you set a lazy pace, in no real hurry to get anywhere. “You following me now, cat?”

“Like I ain’t got better things to do, Mr. Morgan?” you joked, nose scrunching as you smiled. The Summer sun had done beautiful things for your color, he noted. “Give you $50 and shine your guns if you can beat me there.”

“Are you tryin’ to race me?” he questioned with a subtle laugh, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

“Won’t be much of a race, cowboy.”

He let out a real, genuine, albeit short laugh at that. The sound filled the air around you, made birds vacate trees. Your heart soared away alongside them.

“And what is it you want if you win?”

“A nice bottle of whisky,” you replied after a brief moment of thought, reaching your hand to rub your horse’s neck gently. Arthur had forgotten how gentle your hands were with everything they touched – the rediscovery lighting up his mind. “And a hot meal at your camp.”

“Can’t promise the gang’ll let you eat at camp without drinking, too.”

“Which is why I asked for a bottle of whisky,” you remarked, that shit-eating grin he was starting to love spreading on your face again. “Do we have a deal?”

“Hope your horse is fast enough to back up that mouth of yours,” he quipped back, intentionally antagonizing you as he started to pick up the speed slightly. “Or that you’ve got plenty of gun oil.”

You shot forward then, the dust of the road kicking up behind you as you left Arthur behind on a road you both knew well. In reality he could’ve caught you – could’ve even won if he’d pushed his horse hard enough – but the sound of your laughter in the cool evening air was reason enough to lose.

It wasn’t a surprise when you crossed over into the town first.

“You cheated,” he argued as he approached, allowing his horse to slow to a reasonable speed for being around other people. “Got a head start. Doesn’t count.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, reaching up to remove his hat to resituate his wind-blown hair. You were momentarily transfixed on his fingers running through the strands that looked soft – maybe in need of a wash but soft nonetheless – but quickly wished he’d left it messy. “Weren’t mean you didn’t get a head start, cat.”

“Oh, like a couple steps mattered,” you entered an easy banter with him, just like the two of you had done in the Spring. He’d missed it – hadn’t realized how much he had until then. “Coulda given you a five-minute head start and still would’ve beat you and that slowpoke horse you ride.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re difficult?”

“Heard it a couple times,” there was that smile again – the nose crinkling one. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep his thoughts to himself with you smiling that way – at him. You jumped down from your stallion and hitched him with ease, feeding the massive animal a small snack in appreciation of his efforts. “I can compromise. I buy the whisky, but I still get a hot meal at your camp.”

He pondered your proposal only briefly before nodding, letting out an affirmative huff in agreeance. “I’ll meet you at the butcher when you’re done.”

You gave your horse a gentle pat and nodded, turning back to meet his gaze. “Sell that fox pelt I have up on Scratch, will ya?”

Easy. Simple. Honest. Sensible. Arthur loved having you around camp that night – and the night after when you’d been convinced to stay again by the women – though it was hardly just them that enjoyed your company. You’d made easy companions in the camp with your sharp tongue and ability to hold your alcohol. You had plenty of stories to share with Arthur’s chosen family – each one of them genuinely interesting to the gang.

Everyone knew the fact Arthur had brought you around meant you were a good person. The beauty was a bonus, he’d been informed in privacy. He’d only told Sean to shut his mouth in response. Arthur slept by the fire that night so you could sleep in his cot, and if anyone else in the gang saw the way he’d sat up for at least an hour with his eyes transfixed on your sleeping figure in his bed.

It was Fall, October to be exact, the next time he heard from you – this time you had taken fate into your own hands to seek out his company. He was certain he’d never be able to dispose the letter you’d penned and sent to his camp.

Dear Arthur, Kinda strange to call you “dear”, huh? Anyway, I have a job comin’ up in Saint Denis that involves me boarding a train quite late at night and remembering our conversation earlier this year I thought I may ask you to join. Job is planned for the night of October 18, the Saturday after next. I’ll meet you the Friday before at the saloon in Van Horn if you plan on joining me. I do hope you join me. Hope that gang of yours isn’t being too rough on you.

He arrived in Van Horn a day early and rented himself a room – and a bath – so he was prepared for the meeting. He was in the saloon before you, his chest clenching as you walked in through the swinging doors.

You’d taken a page from his book and clearly bathed recently as well, and you were dressed for the first time in front of him in feminine attire. The sight of you in a skirt shouldn’t have affected him the way it did – it was embarrassing for a man his age. It didn’t prevent the pressure building at his waist, nor did it stop him from speaking his mind.

“You had to wear that damn skirt, didn’t ya?” he questioned when you joined him, a smile spreading across your face. It was hardly a gentlemanly way to greet you, but then again, he was hardly a gentleman. “Knew what you were doin’ puttin’ that on with me coming in today…”

“You complained so much about the pants last time I figured I’d save myself the headache,” you replied, sliding into a chair next to him and crossing your legs for emphasis. “You don’t like it?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, kitten,” he’d practically purred – a new tone between the two of you. There was no denying that you wanted to hear it more, and you nearly chose to forget the real reason you were now sitting beside him.

“I need to look the part tomorrow for the job,” you replied quickly, eager to squash the tension now building between the two of you, unwilling to allow the job to go forgotten. There was too much money at stake. “Have to board a real nice train when it leaves out of Saint Denis tomorrow night. There’s a safe onboard I’d like to get my hands into.”

“Can’t just rob it the old-fashioned way?”

“Someone didn’t like the last time I did that,” you teased, feeling pleased with the smile it earned. “Figured I’d board and crack the safe.”

“Why you need me then?”

“Need someone to play my husband and keep watch while I’m workin’ on the safe.”

“Your husband,” he huffed out with another laugh, a brief shake to his head. The term had always been silly to him, just as silly as the idea of marriage was to you as a whole, really – and yet, there was no denying the clench in both of your chests at the mere thought. The imaginary suggestion manifested in brief images of domesticity, the vision of you sleeping in his cot in July flashing in his mind.

You didn’t miss the slight redness to his cheeks, he didn’t miss how your smile fluttered into something laced with affection. For all your joking demeanor, it was still clear that there was some secretive sincerity beneath the surface – that you cared for Arthur. And on Arthur’s part, well…he wouldn’t ride across the country to work for just anyone.

“Yes,” you replied when you’d pulled yourself from the depths of his eyes. “A woman travelling with her husband is far less likely to draw attention than if I were alone.”

You thought there would be some protest, though if you’d seen even a fraction of the thoughts Arthur had conjured up in the preceding months you’d never have to question it. To you what seemed to be him conceding was actually the outlaw taking a step he’d long considered taking with you the next chance he got.

Arthur just wanted to spend time with you – there were probably very few things he’d say no to right now in regard to you. He wouldn’t go admitting that out loud anytime soon either.

“Fine, I’ll go along with your little plan. Only so you don’t go gettin’ yourself arrested.”

“Great!” you exclaimed, the brightness that covered your face blinding but serving as confirmation that he was making the right choice. The money he was sure to get would be a bonus, too. “I got you a wedding ring. Looks like it’ll fit. You can sell it when the job’s done, as a thank you.”

“You get it off a dead body?”

“He didn’t need it anymore.”

There was that goddamn feeling in his chest again.

This was the fourth time destiny had crossed your path with Arthur Morgan’s.

Now, the ring still lay in the outside pouch of his satchel, the cool metal brushing against the tips of his calloused fingers often daily in a physical reminder of you. Today, feeling the pull of being apart from you for four months now and into the new year, he’d been clutching the metal in his gloved hands as he led his horse through the far North. Seeking the solitary bliss of being alone in the mountains for the winter, he had opted to simply ride and camp, sketching in his journal and enjoying the snow dusted scenery. Arthur’s plan was soon thwarted as a snowstorm began to roll in.

He'd been riding along the same worn path to make his way down the mountain when he noticed horse tracks leading into the thick forest – a horse, by the look of it, with no reemergence to be seen. Opting to do the honorable thing, Arthur pursued the trail, weaving through trees atop his own horse until he came to a small clearing where you were setting predator bait.

He didn’t know the kind of words to describe the way he felt seeing you right in front of him.

“Are you some kinda lunatic, cat?”

If he had a way with words, he’d tell you that your smile was brighter than the sun itself – fleeting shooting stars, the North Star when he’s lost.

“That’s not the first time you’ve asked me that question, Mister Morgan,” you replied, standing up and patting your horse as your gaze remained transfixed on him now. Even at this distance you could see the blue in his coat had electrified his eyes, the tone a perfect match for the world around you. You found it hard to form any further rebuttal.

“Won’t be the last either, given you’re doing something fucking crazy every time I see you,” he teased, finally giving into the natural ease he felt with you. The light air between the two of you had finally lulled him into a sense of comfort around you – he was willing to admit he was concerned, in his own way. “There’s a storm rollin’ in. You trying to freeze to death?”

“Trying to hunt a white wolf,” you replied, glancing back at the bait you’d just set and adjusting the bow you held in your hands, an arrow already grasped between two fingers.

Fuckin’ hell, Arthur thought. ‘Course that’s what you’re out here doing.

“You ain’t gonna be hunting much of anything when you turn into an icicle,” he replied, hopeful that you would understand his taunting was coming from a place of concern – not control. “You got Scratch nearby?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you smiled, slipping the arrow back into the quiver on your back and whistling to call your horse back to you. You mounted up on the animal easily, Arthur taking the moment to appreciate how languid your movements were – how graceful. His eyes lingered at your waist for a moment longer than was decent.

“If I remember right there’s a cabin just up the road. Been empty the last few times I rode by,” he explained, his words offering more than just a place to shield from the freeze.

Arthur wanted to spend time with you. You’d truly have to be a lunatic to think otherwise.

“Lead the way, cowboy.”

The snow picked up as the two of you rode side-by-side, both of your horses slowing as the powder piled up, creating heavier footsteps. While Arthur spoke to his horse beside you to soothe her through the storm, you could feel his eyes consistently on you despite the painful whip of flakes against his unshielded cheeks.

What could have been a short ride in the summer extended in the weather, and by the time the cabin approached view you had begun to shiver – something Arthur took note of. When he climbed from his horse he unrolled the blanket on the back of his saddle, passing it up to you before grabbing his shotgun.

“I’ll check inside, you try not to shiver s’much you fall off your horse.”

He disappeared into the cabin, your mind focusing on the sounds of him moving about rather the piling snow that was sure to trap you for days. Keeping yourself wrapped in his blanket provided the additional comfort of his lingering scent, and you found yourself clutching the fabric tighter and tighter as the moments passed.

“This’ll be fine ‘til the storm’s passed,” he announced as he exited through the doors, voice raised so you could hear him over the wind. “You go on in while I get some firewood and hitch the horses.”

“I can help, you know,” you offered, eyebrows pulling together to communicate your frustration.

“Would you stop your arguing for once and go inside out of this shit?”

By the time Arthur made his way in from the storm you’d used what wood remained in the cabin to start a fire, the flames warming the air around it quickly. The mattress was considerably dirty and out of the question, so you were validated in the decision to carry in your bedrolls and blankets, having set them up comfortably in front of the fire.

His heavy boots sounded on the floor as he approached where you sat on the floor from behind, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on you.

“Already got a fire going?”

“Uh huh,” you replied, noting the subtle shake to his voice. Arthur was strong, but he was human, and he was cold. The fact that he not only was willing to but insisted on suffering for you caused a knot to form in your stomach. “Got some whisky if you need help warming up.”

He simply grunted affirmatively in reply, setting the stack of wood carefully to the side and picking out the driest pieces to tend the fire with now. You tempted to hand the bottle out to him, the liquid going ignored as he began to peel off layer by layer, tossing the soaked clothing to the side lazily with little regard for how they ended up. Normally you’d have stood to hang the clothes, but you found yourself spellbound by the way Arthur’s muscles flexed with each movement under the simple wet damp button up shirt – the last remaining layer.

When he was somewhat comfortable, he turned to face you, eyes flashing with amusement as he took the bottle from your fingers. You were certain your mouth was hanging open and he’d caught you. At the moment, you could hardly bring yourself to care.

Hours passed as the two of you got warm and caught up over the last few weeks. You sat opposite one another, both wrapped in your own blankets and full of enough whisky to ignore the storm outside – to ignore everything but one another. Arthur hadn’t missed that most of your clothes lie neatly folded atop the countertop. The thought was repeating in his mind – the heavy question of what exactly remained under the blanket haunting him.

He couldn’t be blamed for not being a good listener.

“Arthur, are you even listenin’ to me?”

“Not a fuckin’ word,” he replied with one more small swig of whisky from the bottle, setting it well out of the way to the side. “Stop fuckin’ doin’ that if you want me to listen.”

“Doing what?”

You knew damn well what.

“Lookin’ at me like you want me to come crawl on top of you.”

Why on Earth would you ever stop doing that?

“No.”

Your mouth was going to drive him to insanity one day. He wasn’t going to do a single thing about it.

“Did you just tell me ‘No’?”

“Yeah, Arthur, I surely did,” you replied, quick and agile as you were on your feet. He was beginning to think you may only talk to hm this way, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to reach out to you. “Hoping you take the hint.”

The blanket he’d been using for himself was discarded to the side, your words finally snapping the thin thread of control that remained in him. He extended one arm outward toward the floor to support himself, outstretching his legs to be situated in a more comfortable position before his eyes found yours again.

“Come on over here,” his invitation came thick as molasses and dripping just as sweet, his free hand patting his right thigh to give his words deeper meaning. “Bring the blanket.”

Arthur had finally figured out how to get you to stop arguing and basked in the glory of the moment as you crawled to him carefully, finding a comfortable seat in his lap as you straddled his thighs. He savored the view as you wrapped your arms around his neck, encompassing you both with the blanket, your face illuminated by the golden glow of the well-tended fire – beautiful, warm, inviting.

He was more than happy to finally accept.

“Are you gonna kiss me, Arthur?”

He knew you were trying to sound resolute as you always did – firm and demanding and impossible to deny. While those things lingered – he doubted they could ever truly be gone from you – what really laced your words was the quietest of whines. He sat up fully, bringing his torso closer to yours and grasping your hips in both hands, all the while your heart beating faster and faster in anticipation.

When you opened your mouth to let your protest be known again, he took his opportunity to claim your lips in a long-awaited kiss, the feeling of his lips caressing yours sucking the air from your chest immediately. He opted to slide his hands to your lower back to bring you in closer, pressing your chests together as he kissed you hungrily. Touch starved and overwhelmed by the feeling of you returning his kiss with soft lips he sought more of your skin, sliding his hands up the back of the loose blouse you remained in.

“Clothes are still wet,” he grumbled against your lips, displeased by the cool touch to your skin that remained. You scrambled to reinitiate the kiss, your lips catching his bottom lip as a whine slipped through your lips. A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose.

“Take them off, then,” you breathed out, bowing your head to press a delicate kiss to his neck. His own breath caught, arms wrapping tighter around you – almost too tight, almost too crushing. You made no move to stop him as you began to test the best places to leave your kisses, spurring him to release his hold on you to start peeling the last layers from both of you.

Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear when all that remained were intimate coverings, a shaky groan rolling through his chest. His hands engulfed you, sliding up your torso until he cupped your breasts, dipping his head to claim your lips again.

That kiss was hungry – starved – clumsy in ways that screamed of desperation. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples lightly, a smile evident on his lips despite the fact he continued to kiss you as a moan slipped from your throat. It spiraled from there, both of your hands exploring, your fingers the best thing he’d felt against his skin in a long time. As the pressure built heavier at your waist his hands trailed lower, one stopping to grasp your waist, the other slipping into the waistband of your underwear.

He'd never heard music that sounded as good as the sound of the moan that left you as his thick fingers swiped through your wet folds, an appreciative hum shaking in his throat as you burrowed your face in his neck.

“You’re already soaked for me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice getting lower and lower with each word. He began to sink his index finger into you, grasping your hip tighter in his other hand. “Fuckin’ tight, too. Hell.”

“Arthur…”

“Aw, hush,” he cooed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple as he curled his finger inside you, pulling a quiet whimper from you. “No point tryin’ to talk right now, darlin’ – just lemme take care of ya.”

He could take his sweet time, Arthur Morgan. He was a patient man, especially when it came to you, and never more-so than now as he began to work his finger in and out of your clenching heat. He added a second finger soon, pressing the heel of his hand to your clit to give you more pressure, which you gladly accepted by rocking your hips into it.

As he pumped his fingers into you he began to trail kisses lower, the kisses growing heavier and wetter the further down he went. By the time he nipped at your hip with his teeth lightly you were breathless, eyes squeezed shut as you lost yourself to pleasure. He kissed across your waistline as he pulled your underwear down, smiling against your skin lightly when you kicked them free with frustrated fervor.

Nothing up to this point compared to the feeling of Arthur sliding his tongue from his fingers to your clit, giving the sensitive bundle of nerves a soft suck. He repeated the motion as you struggled to even moan, your hands grasping at the blankets now on the floor beneath you as you tried to rock your hips into his face desperately.

“Easy, now,” Arthur reprimanded with quiet reverence behind his words, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh softly. “I’m takin’ my time with you, don’t rush me.”

You finally opened your eyes, ready to give him an earful about being a tease, only to be frozen once again faced with the sight of Arthur, golden illuminated by the fire and somehow still wearing his hat tipped back on his head. You maintained eye contact with him as you reached forward with your hands, removing the hat with one hand and placing it on your own head as your fingers ran through his hair, giving a soft tug at the end.

The growl vibrated through him and you as he connected his lips to your clit, pumping his fingers into you and connecting the tips, curling them skillfully to rub against the sensitive patch deep within you as he sucked your clit. All the while he maintained eye contact, even when he removed his mouth from you with one final flick of his tongue, just as he removed his fingers from you.

“Arthur…” you whimpered in protest, tugging his hair again to try to bring him back to your needy core.

“Hush,” he instructed tenderly, slipping his hands under your ass and grasping firmly to lift your waist from the floor. He soaked in the view of your glistening folds at this angle and tested how it looked to watch one of his fingers slip into you before removing it, licking his lips again. “You are a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?”

Your reply was sucked from your chest and altered into a cry of pleasure as he spit on your folds, smearing the liquid around before connecting his thumb to your clit, rubbing a figure eight. Supporting your raised hips still with one hand he continued to rub your clit, now using his tongue to fuck into you rather than his fingers, tasting you how he’d wanted to for nearly a year now.

The pressure continued to build and boil, eventually reaching a point of eruption – all the usual signs there with your shaking thighs, shorter and desperate breaths, your nails scratching against his temple as you gripped whatever you could. Arthur figured it was a previously unknown bonus to him keeping his hair a little on the longer side. He groaned to encourage you, switching his movements to pump his fingers into you again, circling your clit with his tongue until you became incendiary, your first orgasm washing through you with white hot heat.

He continued to lap at your folds as you came, removing his tongue from you occasionally only to kiss your thighs and mutter tender praises as you came back down to your body. When you had some sense about yourself, he was crawling back up you, pressing kisses to your stomach and breasts before he reached your lips, offering you a taste of your own honey sweet pleasure on his tongue.

When the adoration filled amorous kiss ended so Arthur could breathe you began to trail kisses down his neck again, following a trail to his chest before his index finger caught under your chin, lifting you back up to him, cerulean eyes questioning.

“Your turn,” you offered, slipping one of your hands into the waistband of his underwear and wrapping your fingers around his throbbing cock slowly. Running your finger over the velvet head you smeared the pre-spend leaking already, biting at your swollen bottom lip when he moaned.

“Not tonight, sweet thing,” he declined, his hesitation clear in his voice. You began to rub him gently – slowly – too damn slow – causing his eyes to roll back briefly. “You wrap these lips around me, and I won’t last long enough t’ fuck you.”

“Please.”

You didn’t truly know what you were begging for – for him to test himself and allow you to take his already throbbing cock into your mouth or for him to follow through on that promise to fuck you. Luckily, Arthur seemed to know exactly what your words were asking for – what you needed.

He reached to remove your hand from his cock gently, freeing himself of his underwear before he gently moved you to your side, lying beside you with his back to the fire to shield you from getting too much heat, to ensure you didn’t get hurt. One arm wrapped around your waist while the other slid to cup your cheek in his hand, bringing you in closer to him as he kissed you again.

As much fun as he’d been having teasing, he was done with the games now, and could no longer find the patience. He reached to lift your leg around his waist before grasping his cock, rubbing against your still-soaked entrance for a moment to gather some lubrication before he sank into you. Inch by inch disappeared into your velvet channel, the kiss practically halting as you gasped. He leaned his forehead against yours instead, grasping your waist gently as he continued to slip into you.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” he breathed out. The large hand that still cupped your cheek slipped downward to rest against your neck instead, his fingertips digging into your skin in attempt to steady himself, to savor your pulse beneath his touch. “Takin’ me so good. You doin’ okay?”

You nodded as you stared into his eyes, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open already at the feeling of him stretching you, almost too full but not something you’d be willing to give up anytime soon. When he’d fully seated himself within you, his cock buried to the hilt he released a shaky groan of his own, his eyes briefly closing as he savored the feeling of being wrapped up in you.

“Goddamn you’re tight,” he groaned out, pressing several light kisses to your lips before grinding his hips into yours slightly. “Shoulda crawled ‘tween your legs months ago.”

“Would…ah…woulda let you,” you managed to reply, pressing your lips to his in an unabashedly salacious kiss, already perfecting how to slot your lips against his in a way that left him craving more. He couldn’t hold back his movements any longer and began to pump into you repeatedly, setting a wanton and quick pace that somehow managed to remain tender and reverent.

He could only be tender for so long, desperation and months of waiting and yearning building in him. His movements began to get sloppy sooner than he’d have liked, though he felt better when your walls began to flutter and clench around him, your thigh shaking around his hip slightly. He picked up his pace to a much more relentless one, driving his cock into you and into your spongy cervix repeatedly as his grunts became more frequent, pressing kisses to your neck now.

“Want you to finish while I’m inside you,” he instructed, though there was something so subtly desperate behind his words – a quiet beg that only someone who knew him would recognize. “Think you can do that for me, darlin’?”

You nodded before leaning your head back again, quiet cries leaving your lips as he connected his thumb to your clit again, immediately choosing a relentless pace to rub in circles. You were almost certain you’d do anything he asked and soon enough you were pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching him so tight he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to remove himself. He did his best to continue pumping into you roughly now as he sought his own release, certain you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Like you’d need to, anyway.

“F-fill me up, Arthur,” you begged unexpectedly through your euphoria, and he didn’t need anything else to convince him. With only a few more bruising thrusts he stilled inside you as he emptied his seed in hot ropes into you, groaning loudly as he lazily leaned his forehead to yours again, his own eyes screwed shut.

He didn’t remove himself from you when you’d both ridden your orgasms, instead holding you close and reaching to cover the two of you in one of the blankets that was on the floor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly to hold you closer to him, slipping one of his legs between yours for additional comfort and warmth. Still semi-hard with plenty of stamina to offer you couldn’t ignore the feeling of him seated in you still, buried as deep as possible as he brushed his nose against yours.

“Be a whole lot warmer this way,” he offered, giving a subtle move of his hips to emphasize the meaning behind his words. He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose before reaching upward to kiss your forehead, leaving his lips resting there. He was right – you did finally feel warm.

“Mm,” was all you could reply, laying your head against his shoulders and closing your eyes, burrowing your face into his neck. He smiled as you managed to press lazy kisses into his neck before wrapping your arms around him as well.

“Think I’ll keep you here all winter,” he offered after several blissful moments, his head leaning to rest on the top of yours as his own eyes closed. He pressed one final kiss to your temple before succumbing to the comfort of you fully.

“Always knew you were a big teddy bear, Arthur,” you teased. How you managed to run your mouth still after he’d fucked you right was beyond him – but it was also probably a reason he’d want to keep fucking you.

“We’ll call it hibernation, then.”

masterlist. red dead redemption masterlist.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 smut

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dilfsfordinner · 11 months

Text

Escarmiento: Part Two- Miguel O’hara x fem!spider reader

a/n- i have no clue how his fangs or venom work, but just pretend like how i wrote it makes sense. also, this is very long but i didn’t want to write three parts :^

warnings- smut, predator/prey dynamics, spanking, edging, degradation, explicit language, size kink, biting, paralytic venom, mean/rough sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, creampie, aftercare, soft miggy after he realizes he was an ass

translations at the bottom!

—————————————————————————

Colors flashed in your peripheral as you darted alongside Miles, your arms burning from the amount of swings you had to pull off, just to get some distance between the hundreds of people around you.

Sure, running may not have been the smartest thing to do, but, you did have a plan. It wasn’t the easiest to pull off, and you’d probably end up being berated by Miguel, but Miles was your priority, and your husband was usually a sane man when it came to you. Usually.

As if he wanted to prove your logic wrong, Miguel’s yells rang from behind you, his voice laced with pure anger as you slipped from his grasp a multitude of times. You were both very fast, but he was a monster. It was like trying to escape death, his claws almost catching your suit, the image of his fangs gleaming in your memories.

“Miles!” you yelled to the boy swinging a few feet ahead of you, his body stalling for you to sync with his movements. “We’ll draw them out-” you panted, your surroundings becoming familiar, recognizable to the entrance of headquarters, “-and when they’re gone, get to the machine, and go home.”

Web after web shot at you, red and blue of all kinds clouding your vision as you maneuvered around gloved hands and swinging limbs. “Y/n,” that familiar voice shouted again, trying to pull your attention away from the obstacles in front of you. “Stop running-” you heard Miguel growl under his breath, the ear splitting sound of shredding steel hitting your senses as he literally tore through walls to get to you.

He had never ever scared you before, but with his feral strength directed at you instead of a casual villain, true fear coaxed its way through your veins. You were his prey. That’s the thought that repeatedly flashed in your mind. He was hunting you and there was inevitably, no escape.

Flicking your wrist, your webbing shot to the upper beams above the training area, pulling you through the air, a panicking Miles right at your side. That particular choice was probably not the best decision, a horde of waiting spider people coming into sight as soon as you appeared through the floor.

Interrupting the frozen crowd, two glowing webs broke through the air to pull a very rage filled Miguel up after you, your feet stepping back to scurry in the opposite direction towards the glistening wall of windows. You could feel him right at your heels, his breathing ragged, a whoosh of air hitting your back, the only explanation being his claws trying to swipe at you.

Dropping into a perch-like position, you ducked a particularly harsh swing, Miguel’s body already moving too fast to stop, his large form smashing through a lower window. Miles went right along with him, leaving you to a room of people just itching to please their boss. That was until your foot was pulled from under you, a familiar web wrapped around your ankle pulling your body to the floor and out the shattered window.

You’d never gotten used to free falling, your stomach wound in knots as the air whipped past you, your wrist helplessly flailing to find some kind of structure to attach to. The web stuck to your ankle was tugged, harshly, pulling you down towards none other than your husband.

Miles was lone gone, his own fleet of spiders chasing him down, leaving you to fend for yourself. Shooting your web to a passing car, your body was caught between two forces, Miguel watching as you cried out in pain, a frustrated groan leaving his lips as he cut his web loose, letting you go. You knew that’d make him buckle, see, he didn’t want to hurt you, no, he just wanted to catch you.

Slinging to the flying car, you were glued to the roof, eyes peeled to search for Miles, your sense lighting up at the sound of Miguel hurling himself from car to car to get to you. A yelp left your lips as two sets of web-patterned arms wrapped around you, one set grabbing your legs to pin you, the other holding your midriff, squeezing all the air from your lungs. Your legs helplessly kicked against them, body bucking in their hold to get away until a rough yell resounded. “Leave her,” Miguel shouted, his fangs extending, eyes tracking their hold on you. “Ella es mía.”

Squirming out of their grasp, you swung to the train-like contraption holding the roadway, Miguel’s suit in your peripheral, his form hurtling towards you, leaving no room to escape. You landed first, crawling along the top of the silver train, Miguel’s claws scratching behind, tearing the metal in their wake.

“Miguel, please-” you panted, your eyes wide as they looked down at him, his mask dissolving to reveal crimson eyes and furrowed eyebrows set on you. “He’s just a kid,” you pleaded, your muscles aching with exhaustion as you climbed away from him. A growl left the lips of your lover, his unbeaten endurance still strong, claws pulling him right towards you and your struggling form.

His hand closed around your ankle, pulling you down until his arms caged you, your back was pressed to his broad chest, hands pinned down by his own, preventing you from using your webs. “All you had to do was listen,” he muttered in your ear, a pained gasp leaving your lips as four sharp prongs sank into your neck, his fangs burying themselves into your skin. Warm liquid flowed from them, eliciting a burning sensation throughout your limbs that slowly turned into numbness.

You could still talk and move, albeit barely, most likely because your husband didn’t want you completely paralyzed, but you couldn’t escape his grasp, his strong arms lifting you until you were slung over his shoulder, lax limbs completely subject to his movements.

“Lyla, send everyone after Miles,” his voice was gruff as he swung off the train, you in one arm, his weight carried by a web in the other, “I’ll handle her.”

———

By the time the paralytic venom wore off, you found yourself at the door of your shared bedroom, Miguel grabbing you from his shoulder and pushing you inside, your legs wobbling slightly from the strange sensation. Shutting it suspiciously lightly, Miguel rested his forehead against the cold panels of the door, your weak legs already positioning you at the other end of the room.

“Miguel, I- I was just trying to help..”

His body went taut at your words, his back rigid, muscles shifting as he turned to look at you. You almost cowered at the sight of him, his eyes a deeper red than you’ve ever seen, his lips pulling back to reply, revealing four-sharp teeth still extended.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, his pupils dilating into a deep black, almost consuming his whole iris. “All you needed to do was listen to me, and you went and disobeyed a direct order.”

“You’re my husband, not my master..” you muttered under your breath, his breath catching at your little retort, anger lacing his features. “He’s just a kid, Miguel, you’re being too harsh.”

“Harsh..?” He went still at your words, an exasperated laugh leaving his lips as his eyebrows rose. “I’ll show you harsh,” he said under his breath, shoulders squaring to show his full height, long legs making their way to you in easy strides. Your mouth went dry at his words, feet stepping carefully to back away from him, his approaching steps pushing you further and further until your back hit the wall.

“Miguel wait-” your words were cut off as his large hand closed around your wrist, wrenching you towards the bed, your heels digging into the ground. With a battle of limbs, you found yourself atop his knees, your stomach pressing against his strong legs, his fingers gently caressing your bottom. Your hips wiggled, legs struggling to get away at the implication of his hand. “You can’t run now, cariño,” he growled, sharp claws cutting through the fabric of your suit exposing your ass and legs to his preying eyes.

Long fingers hooked under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down to reveal your soft skin, fingers tracing every inch, his touch disappearing for a second before returning in the form of a harsh slap, a yelp leaving your lips at the scorching sensation blooming along your bottom.

His hand continued its assault, your legs shaking in his hold. “Poca pucha, just couldn’t listen could you,” he gritted out, palm smacking and smacking relentlessly until your ass was flaming red, choked cries spewing from your lips as you pleaded for him to stop.

He didn’t listen though, every spank leaving a new mark on your skin, red handprints painting your bottom half as your hands clawed at his ankles. “M-Miguel please! I’m s-sorry,” you squirmed, hips bucking until he landed a particularly rough slap against your skin. “Stay still,” he grunted, hands pushing your hips down as he repeatedly spanked you, tears rolling down your cheeks and onto his lap.

You were hiccuping now, so distressed your cries caught in your throat, your bottom raw and red, so sore it stung, the feeling of fire consuming you with even the smallest touch. His hand relented when he heard you muttering ‘i’m sorry’ like a mantra, the rough pads of his fingers gently massaging your inflamed bottom.

Miguel tutted at your soft cries, rubbing your skin as his other hand spread your legs. “Mírate-” he whispered, fingers dipping to scoop up your liquids, spreading your folds, “puta chorrea.” Without any preparation, he stuffed two fingers into your cunt, a choked gasp leaving your lips as he immediately started to curl his fingers into you, throwing you straight into the grasps of pleasure it was almost painful.

His thick fingers nudged at every pleasurable spot inside of you, your walls sucking him in greedily despite your current distaste of your husband. Every curl and poke elicited a whine from you, your body shivering as it neared climax, cunt pulsing around his fingers as a tell tale sign. Before you could release, Miguel pulled his fingers from you, large hands grabbing your waist to throw you on the bed.

You couldn’t even process the loss of pleasure before he was tearing the rest of your suit off and pushing your back into an impossible arch, your inflamed ass stuck in the air as his hands grabbed onto your hips. “Wait Mig-” all air was pushed out of your lungs as he sheathed himself in you with one thrust, the stretch causing a burn to ignite in your cunt.

His palm never left your back as he thrusted in and out at a brutal pace, soft groans leaving his lips, his strong legs slamming into the back of your thighs. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, your mewls and pleas muffled by the pillow Miguel shoved your face into, his fingers cradling the crown of your head to keep you still.

His cock was so thick and long, you felt it hit an unknown area every time he pushed into you, and without normal foreplay, the stretch was insane. Your walls pulsed with the struggle to take him, the ring of muscles at the entrance of your cunt visible as it wrapped around his shaft to suck him in.

Caught up in pleasure himself, Miguel leaned down to cage you in his arms, chest pressed to your back in a primal, animal-like position, his muscled arms placed on both sides of your head, hips never relenting with their intense thrusts.

“Too harsh, arañita?” he whispered into your ear, his teeth pulling at your earlobe, lips sucking at your neck as you trembled beneath him, your voice too hoarse from crying to respond. Heavy balls slapped against your cunt, Miguel’s thrusts becoming harder as you recognized his own tells of an orgasm. His ab muscles rippled against your back, his claws started to emerge, his breathing turned ragged, and he always kissed somewhere on your body, this time being your shoulder.

Groaning into the nook of your shoulder and neck, Miguel released inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum painting every inch of your cunt, his hips stuttering to push every last drop into you while you tipped over the edge, your climax small and sudden, cunt sucking his juices in as you released your own, clenching around his spent cock.

Catching his breath, Miguel pulled out of you slowly, ears catching the pained whimper you let out, eyes looking down to watch as his white liquid poured from your hole. Your hips slumped and rested against the bed, your face still hidden by the pillow as you caught your breath, exhausted and extremely sore.

It was like he’d been clouded with lust and anger the whole time, because as he looked at your trembling form, the clear feeling of guilt consumed him. As careful as possible, he collected as many soothing ingredients he could find from the bathroom; a cold washcloth, calming lotion, and water all included.

Kneeling on the bed, his hands gently moved to prop your hips up, a choked out ‘no’ leaving your lips, your fear quickly extinguished by his soft, cooed words. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered, wiping the washcloth along your irritated folds and your inner thighs, cleaning up any excess liquids. Taking your reddened bottom into his hands, he smoothed and rubbed lotion onto you, the tender skin of your ass slowly becoming soothed by the cool substance.

Kissing up your spine, Miguel stroked your hair, his hand tilting your head to be able to see your face, his heart dropping at the sight of your red eyes, tear stained cheeks, and lack of speaking. “Oh- mi amor..” he murmured, strong arms pulling you onto his chest (careful not to nudge your bottom) as he rubbed your back, a quiet sigh leaving your lips at the feeling.

“I’m sorry.. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you,” his voice was filled with regret, leaving a kiss to your head as you hummed your agreement. “I-” he pursed his lips, releasing a sigh as he struggled to say a certain admission, “I may have been a little too harsh on him.”

A breathy laugh resounded against his chest, your hoarse voice a relief to his ears as your tired eyes looked up to meet his own, “you think?”

—————————————————————————

ella es mía- she’s mine

cariño- sweetheart

poca pucha- little cunt

mírate- look at you

puta chorrea- fucking dripping

arañita- little spider

mi amor- my love

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o’hara imagine #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #why cant he be real

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vigilante-3073 · 3 months

Text

Cuddle For Warmth

Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Summary: Cold nights and shared sleeping bags.

TW: Fluff, pre-established relationship, cuddling.

The group had been traveling down the same road for days, slipping into the woods at night when they needed to set up camp. Daryl found himself getting antsy as more time passed without a solid form of shelter.

He didn't like being out in the open for long periods of time, especially with Y/N. Daryl worried about her more than himself at times, ensuring that she was always in his line of sight.

Daryl was not clingy by any means, but he couldn't keep himself from worrying.

He knew how dangerous the world had become and he couldn't help but be protective. Y/N was his one good thing in the world and he wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to her.

Their relationship had formed slowly over time, definitely not something that anyone would have expected. Y/N had always been kind to everyone, but she seemed to pay particular attention to Daryl.

She told him once that he made her feel safe and he believed her.

Daryl had never been good with words, but he showed his love for her in a variety of different ways.

He taught her how to survive on her own in case they were ever separated, paying particular attention to hunting and shooting. Daryl wanted her to be able to protect herself if there was ever a situation where he couldn't.

Daryl always made sure she was warm enough while also ensuring that she had enough food and water. He would even give her some of his portion when rations were limited.

Daryl was also one for physical touch, whether it be his arm draped around her waist at the campfire, his lips pressing quickly to her forehead before stepping away or his hand holding onto her's as they walked.

Daryl found it reassuring to know that she was there.

...

Y/N rolled out her sleeping bag by the fire before slowly crawling inside. She left the zipper open as she turned onto her side.

Daryl moved behind her, sliding into the sleeping bag with his chest pressed against her back.

"Lift your head," He muttered.

She lifted her head, allowing him to lay his arm across the ground for her to rest her head against.

"Thank you," Y/N said softly, Daryl grunted.

His arm wrapped around her waist securely, holding her close to himself as the fire crackled softly beside them.

Y/N rested her hand on his forearm, sliding her palm downwards and intertwining her fingers loosely with his.

"You're cold," He muttered.

"I'll warm up," Y/N replied, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the comforting warmth already seeping into her body.

Daryl laid awake long after she had fallen asleep, listening for noises in the surrounding area.

It was like he couldn't turn his brain off when there was a possibility of danger with Y/N involved. His attention was pulled back to her as she shifted in his arms.

"I can hear you thinking," She mumbled without opening her eyes, "Glenn is on watch, we're okay," Y/N assured.

"I know," Daryl said gruffly, arm tightening around her waist to pull her body closer.

Y/N turned in the limited space the sleeping bag provided, looking up at him with tired eyes. Daryl lifted his hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You need to sleep," Y/N said, he nodded.

She pressed herself against his chest, fingers slipping underneath his jacket before she slid her arm around him.

Y/N closed her eyes, letting out a content sigh as her head rested against his chest.

...

Daryl blinked his eyes open, surprised to find that he had actually fallen asleep for a few hours. The fire had dissipated, leaving only a small flame and bright red coals.

Daryl shifted, lifting his arm from around Y/N's waist as he slipped out of the sleeping bag carefully.

Her eyes fluttered open, turning onto her back as she blinked up at him, "Where are you going?" She mumbled.

"Just grabbing a drink. Go back to sleep," He said, lifting the warm material of the sleeping bag further over her shoulder.

Daryl dusted off his knees as he stood up, making his way over to the car and opening one of the backpacks. He pulled out a crumpled water bottle, taking a few sips before tucking it away.

Glenn sat on the hood of the car, a rifle held in his hands as he listened.

"Anythin'?" Daryl asked, Glenn shook his head, "Not a peep. I wake Rick in an hour to switch off," Glenn said.

Daryl nodded, he felt like he wasn't contributing when he had the privilege of sleeping through the night, but Rick had insisted that he take a night to rest.

"You two are really cute together," Glenn stated.

"Thanks," Daryl muttered.

"I think everyone deserves to have a love like that... One that makes life worth living again, you know?" Glenn said.

Glenn couldn't have been more right. Daryl would give his life for that woman in a heartbeat and he couldn't imagine a future without her in it.

Y/N was absolutely everything to him.

Daryl nodded, returning to his sleeping bag and laying down behind Y/N. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to his chest.

"Are you okay?" Y/N mumbled, hand finding his under the material of the sleeping bag.

"Yeah, I'm good," Daryl assured.

#daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixion imagine

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seashelldom · 1 year

Text

: ̗̀➛ 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

pairing: tonowari x fem!reader na'vi

word count: 1.3k

shelli's note. SFW angst; attachment issues; “i love tonowari sm, he’s so big teddy bear-coded 🧸….”

masterlist | part 1, part 2, alternate ending

"Tonowari, please, this is the fourth time this week.", you pleaded with your mate. Today marked the fourth day this week that Tonowari had left off to hunt with the hunters leaving you alone. In reality, you wouldn’t be this upset over him taking responsibility as the Olo’eyktan but he was being ridiculous. Leaving in the early morning to late after eclipse. You were sure to be mad at him.

Tonowari sighed and put his spear down for a mere second and grazed your cheek. “You know they can’t hunt without me” he expressed softly, “ They need me, yawntu.” Hearing the sweet nickname you settling into his touch for a second, touch and love starved before getting angry.

“Tonowari.” you spoke, “You barely have anytime for me anymore. I sit alone most nights and wait for you. The neighbors talk.” After saying this you felt tears swell in your eyes for this has been going on for sets of months and you were sick of it.

You both heard a male na’vi call Tonowari’s name outside the marui and looked back at him hoping for him to stay with you. But instead of the sweet eyes you were hoping to meet they were bitter.

He looked at you for a second before picking up his spear and uttering the words that you least wanted to hear. “I’m leaving.”

Before you could reach out to hold his arm he left. You stand in shock and watched him leave. Each step leaving you in even more confusion. This was not your husband. The Tonowari you knew was caring and loved you with all his heart. Always making sure no one ever hurt you, especially himself.

It hurt even worse each time your mind reminded you that he chose his work over his first love.

The entire day that was ahead of you was filled with sorrow. Tonowari was nowhere to be found of course. A part of you wanted to see him again so you could express your feelings.

After finishing your tasks as Tsa’hik you needed some closure so you went up to your favorite spot. It was past most maruis and covered by a huge tree next to it so it was a secret spot. You would climb up to the stretchy fabric and lay on it like a hammock.

Along with the comfort the view was peaceful. You could see a vast assortment of colorful plants and the hunting area. Right below you was the storage pile for all the nets and spears for hunting. Which also happened to be where the hunters would talk from time to time for relaxation.

Although seeing the hunting area did not help one bit. All the kisses and little smiles you would earn everyday. His sweet nothings that he would say to you in between tasks. His time and dedication to make you joyful for hours. You missed this. You missed him.

All the memories roamed around your mind. Especially one in particular.

Today was a very special day. A day which the Olo’eyktan and Tsa’hik go around the entire village and inspect for minor to major mistakes. And then settle in the main hall and have a meeting with all the leaders of the clan. (i.e. leader of hunting, main weaver, the Tsa’hik’s assistants, etc.)

“Tonowariii”, you exclaimed in a cheerful voice. You had just finished your hair and it looked gorgeous. Your voluptuous, bouncy curls with little pearls dangling here and there. Paired with the most beautiful seashell you’ve ever seen in all the islands.

Handpicked by Tonowari himself, which he found one day on the shore while walking around. Before he could grab it, the waves pulled it to sea! He was determined to get it for you so for days he searched in the ocean for it with his ilu; until it was found. You loved it and were finally wearing it now.

He came inside the marui unready for your beauty but not surprised in the slightest. The prettiest woman in Awa’atlu is what you were to him.

“Do you like it?”, you giggled.

“I love it.”, he replied while setting down a quick but cute kiss on your cheek before speaking again. “You are breathtaking.”

You giggled again before the two of you walked out of your marui. In the view were a couple of teenagers on ilus, apparently racing. They were getting closer and closer by the second before making a sharp turn right in front of your marui and you.

The water was about to splash all your hard work away. You closed your eyes and shielded your face with your arms but then opened them to Tonowari covered you all wet himself.

You stepped back in shock and guilt because he had spent almost a hour on his appearance and was now drenched in salty water.

“Tonowari! You’re all wet now!”, you worryingly expressed.

“It’s alright, tíyawn, as long as your fine.”, he replied with the sweet smile he always wore on his face.

You smiled back and noticed a bit of water on your arm. And some more on your chest. And everywhere. Looking up you realized it started to rain very quickly. Over the seconds the rain picked up swiftly and you were wet as well.

You looked over to your mate and stared in silence until you both bursted out laughing. How cute.

“Hey, yawntu.”, Tonowari spoke.

“Yes, my love?”

“Let’s not go anywhere today.”

“What?”

“Yeah, we can go to the beach and walk around.”

You ended up agreeing and you both ditched your duties. A fair display of his affection and his past priority of you over work. Both of you walked and talked. Giggled while you were hiding from the clan leaders.

After remembering the bonding you both went through maybe you were overreacting? Maybe he was having a bad day. You thought to yourself for a few moments and decided to stop thinking so much about the idea. You sat there in content for a few more minutes before you noticed something move in the corner of your eye. Or someone. You crouched down and saw Tonowari and his companions carrying fishing nets and such. Seeing him made your heart ache and you wanted to walk over there, talk it out, and give him a big hug. You smiled at the thought and continued to peer into their conversation from your hiding spot above. From what you could hear, you heard this; "Tonowari. Why do you still put up with her?", said one Metkayina Navi. "Yes, I agree. She's so clingy and frankly a horrible choice in Tsahik and your wife.", said another.

Hearing this made your smile fades and a cold sweat accompanied your back. Your eyes shot at Tonowari hoping he would deny these negative words. Tonowari sighed. "I don't know. I only mated with her because she is good as a Tsahik but she's irritating. So you're right about one thing.", he says confidently without any stuttering. Your heart dropped and you sat there in silence for a bit before slipping away from your hiding place. Tears started to swell in your eyes as you heard their mockery while leaving unnoticed. Their laughing about how "infuriating" you were. Regardless of that, you wouldn't care about anybody taunting you if only your mate and one "true" love hadn't been the one making these "jokes".

You wiped a tear falling down your eye but while you were busy with your sorrows an accessory of yours fell off your body. The seashell Tonowari had gifted you, something that you cherished.

After Tonowari and his friends had finished their ridicule Tonowari had gone to gather more of the spare nets on the shore. But he stopped in his tracks and stared down on the floor. At the seashell, you had dropped on the sand. And a wet tear to accompany it just a few steps away from the shell.

shelli's note. lmk if you like this teeheehee - part 2 will be out soon. 💋

P.S. this is what the shell looks like in context ⬇

#✎— 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈'𝐬 posts.#avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar: the way of water #avatar: twow #avatar 2009 #fanfic #avatar fanfic #avatar fanfiction #avatar headcanons #avatar x reader #avatar 2 #avatar 2022 #avatar 2023 #tonowari #tonowari x reader

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officialabortive · 11 months

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Barbarian!Bakugou x FoxHybrid!Reader

Barbarian!Bakugou had already set up camp for the night under a canopy of thick tree branches. Finally finding some semblance of relief within the cool shade, when he was disturbed by jingling of rusted bells and worn out wooden wheels clacking against rough terrain. Of course, he knows before even looking, that it was the tell tale clatter of a wandering merchant. Bakugou makes haste, jogging over to see the available merchandise. Opportunities like this are rare, as merchants who travel so far out are few and far between.

The stallions —who are surprisingly well kept and very clearly well groomed— hauling the small wooden caravan came to a halt as the man holding the reigns gave a tug upon noticing a blonde figure jogging up. Dropping the reigns, the man swiftly hoped to the ground, ready to offer a sales pitch. Clasping his hands together, the merchant gave his best smile. It was obviously forced, far to wide and toothy to be genuine. Katsuki already pinned him as an obnoxious asshole.

"Ah! Hello, hello, good sir! Would you be interested in making a purchase? You've come at a good time, I have quite the selection at the moment!"

Bakugou grunts "maybe. What'd you have?" The cart was ever so slightly too elevated to see inside without needing to jump to look in over the edge

"Oh please do come take a look!"

Bakugou trails behind him to the back of the caravan where they can see in through the open back. Several hybrids sat on the wooden flooring, all of which having their gaze pinned directly back on him.

"I only carry the cutest and most unique hybrids! Even some exotic breeds! Only the best of the best! And I can assure you they are all perfectly family friendly!" He started pointing to them individually. "Here we have a beautiful teddywidder rabbit! This is red tailed deer! Over here is one of my personal favorites, a rare spot-"

"Got any hunters?"

The man began stumbling over his words. Now one ever wanted something like that, a possible threat. People wanted a nice cute hybrid to have around the house and be loved by children.

"I- uh- well, I do have this exotic snowy fox, who I'm sure is an amazing hunter. Foxes are known for their incredible hearing, agility, and stealth! All amazing attribut-"

"I'll take 'em"

There was an audible ting, Bakugou having flicked something to the man who fumbled to catch it, even with using two hands. Greedy eyes bulge at the perfectly circular gold piece in his palm. Gluttony has evidently long had it's unshakable grasp on his soul.

—

You were fairly well behaved. Immediately inspecting the temporary camp, analyzing each item in the worn out bag that lay open on the dirt. Than coming to sniff at bakugou, poking and prodding, curiously tugging at each individual necklaces on his chest. He'd even noticed how you sat exclusively in shaded areas, and squinting whenever you weren't.

Yeah, he regrets not thinking further into the whole 'only liking dark areas' thing. Turns out foxes are fucking nocturnal.

Now, the sun had long gone in to hiding, yet here sits a very much wide awake, agitated barbarian. Slouched with arms crossed over his chest as he glares at nothing in particular.

"Can't believe I spent fuck'n money on this bullshit– QUIT IT!"

The sales basterd was right, you were definitely stealthy. And for Katsuki, it's annoying as shit. He can't even hear your approach when you pounce on him from behind, cackling when you successfully grab on to him mid-jump. Only after several hours worth of attempts to catch you, only for you to slip right out of his grasp, to have you apprehend and tired. Finaly he can get some damn shut ey- why the fuck are you burrowing under his cloak!?

Whatever. At least bakugou is confident in your skills required for hunting. Perfect.

MASTERLIST

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rwrbmovie · 7 months

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BTS of #RWRBMovie: NYE kiss

via Consequence:

It was important for Henry to be the grab-and-kiss-er in this scenario, Lopez says, because “there’s something very striking about a character such as Henry, who has spent up to that point in the film being very buttoned down and seemingly in control of his urges in that moment, losing the ability to control his urges and give into the desire to kiss Alex.” Plus, there’s the additional context of Henry being literal royalty: “There’s something very sexy and romantic about a prince dropping his guard. And taking things that are old movie tropes and letting two boys do it — that was definitely the romantic gesture that we wanted to go for.” Of course, on a practical level, the grab-and-kiss has certain practical elements to consider. “The only danger on set was that sometimes [Nicholas Galitzine] would come at [Taylor Zakhar Perez] so forcefully that they would just bang faces. We were really worried about fat lips and bloody noses,” he laughs. It wasn’t just the passion of the actors that was an issue, but the terrain — according to Lopez, “they were on a slope. So Nick was going downhill.” (Passion with a little help from Newtonian physics.) On set for this as well as the film’s other, more graphic scenes was intimacy coordinator Robbie Taylor Hunt, who oversaw shooting the kiss in two different ways: “We had one where Alex is completely taken by surprise and doesn’t respond to the kiss. And then we did Version B, where Alex is taken by surprise and then does respond to the kiss. Because I wasn’t quite sure what was going to work, so I gave myself the option of having both.” Process-wise, this meant rehearsing both versions and then shooting different angles and framings, which means “those lads kissed easily like 40 or 50 times that night,” Lopez laughs. “There’s nothing like having to kiss someone 40 times in a row to really, really take the allure out of kissing.”

While the grab-and-kiss is the best term I’ve been able to come up with for this maneuver, it’s not my favorite — if only because if you Google the phrase “grab and kiss” today, the search term pulls up very unsexy results. These unsexy results (including phrases like “attempted sexual assault” and “Donald Trump”) do serve as a necessary reminder of how delicate a balance one has to strike with this particular maneuver. As Lopez puts it, “there is a gray area and I think you see it in some older movies, in which they do the grab-and-kiss and it’s icky — it just feels not consensual at all, or very uncomfortable.” What’s so powerful about the grab-and-kiss is that it’s an embrace with purpose. There’s a backstory to it, usually one involving repressed emotions and deeply held longing. That was the strategy Lopez used with Red, White & Royal Blue, using the scenes leading up to the kiss beneath the tree to emphasize “the pull between them.” (Specifically, Lopez got what he calls his “West Side Story moment” during the New Year’s party, when a crowd dancing to Lil Jon’s “Get Low” does as instructed by the song, leaving a still-standing Henry and Alex to gaze at each other across the dance floor.)

#rwrbedit #rwrb movie #red white and royal blue #rwrbsource #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #rwrb bts #bts #*#my gifs #gifs #rwrbbts #nye

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opultea · 10 months

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Where’s My Kiss? - 2

Genshin men see you kiss something, and can’t help but want one for themselves… ft. Gorou, Wanderer

GN Reader (No Pronouns) - Romantic - Drabbles - Fluff, Angst w/ fluff ending (Wanderer) - SFW (very slightly suggestive at the end of Gorou's)

Word Count: 1.6k

Part 1 - ft. Dottore, Zhongli

Guest Staring - Tawara! Camp dog of the Watastumi Resistance. (Featured in the 2023 birthday art for Gorou, check it out if you haven't seen it!)

Gorou

The finality of the hard won end to the Vision Hunt Decree was an event celebrated by all of Inazuma, most of all the resistance of Watatsumi. Although despite the relief and happiness that the peace brought, there was also the struggle of readjustment. It was not easy coming down from the high tensions of war, and the army still had soldiers in excess. Many now contributed to the last relief efforts for struggling communities, and as reconnaissance units. This was the very task you and a very special operations officer were undertaking at present.

Tawara scouted ahead as you secured the empty battlefield. Many war torn plains were left with lasting remains of equipment and resources, of which you and your trusty camp dog were tasked with retrieving. Her Excellency wished to put the war in the past, and to move forward, there couldn’t be such reminders of the horrors endured during the time.

“Tawara! Where are you boy?” You called, hoping the sweet shiba hadn’t gone too far. A yip in the distance helped your eyes find the pup stood atop a small hill where the enemy camp would have been.

This particular battlefront had little left of the war, only a few broken weapons and cracked armour plates that weren’t considered worth salvaging when the camp was first emptied. You took stock of how much still lay in the field so you could get an accurate gauge of how many soldiers it would take to clean it up for good.

Tawara zipped down the hill and over to you, pressing his paw to your shin to gain your attention. Looking down, you smiled at the pup and the dendrobium he held in his mouth.

“For me?” Tawara carefully dropped the bloom at your feet and barked cheerfully, sitting and awaiting your reaction expectantly. “Aw, aren’t you just the sweetest,”

You knelt down and cooed at the camp dog’s cuteness, squishing his fluffy cheeks in your hands, causing Tawara’s tail to wag wildly behind him.

Plucking the dendrobium off the ground, you inspected the deep red bloom before your gaze drifted across the still-dead grass of the field. New shoots of green could be seen dotting the dry dirt, but there was no mistaking the ground flattened by the feet of soldiers. Perhaps Her Excellency would approve planting some dendrobiums in the field to restore and improve the area.

“You’re a true genius Tawara,” you smiled, smoothing the fur on his head with a well-deserved pat. You went a step further with your affections, clasping Tawara's face in your hands again to press a gentle kiss on his left and then his right ear, before landing one on his snout. You laughed as the pup licked your cheek in return.

Little did you know that another loving pupper was watching the whole affair with unidentified jealousy and a fluttering heart.

Gorou had been notified of your mission long before you set out to complete it, being the general. Although he admittedly preferred when the actions assigned to you could be carried out alongside him, or at least within the campgrounds. Being apart was never easy, even when he knew you would return eventually.

Today Gorou had been lucky enough to finish his reports early and decided that his free time may as well have been used to help you with your mission. He had no doubt in your abilities, but Gorou tended to miss you quickly, so you often received a helping hand from the doggy general even when you didn't need one.

Rounding the hill close to the old front, Gorou felt a streak of unease being back in a place where he had fought so viscously, but it was all washed away as soon as he saw you. His tail began to sway as he approached, watching you smile and interact with Tawara. Then he saw it.

Gorou’s left and then right ear twitched in unison with your kisses, his mouth agape and face flushed. You had never kissed his ears before. The general's ears continued to twitch as he imagined your lips touching them, the images in his mind sending another round of fluttering to his heart.

As Gorou stood frozen and red hot at the edge of the field, Tawara eventually noticed him, barking in recognition and bounding over to greet his superior officer. You followed closely behind, equally happy to find that your boyfriend had come to see you.

"Gorou! Done with your work already?" He didn't hear your question until he shook himself from his stupor. "You okay honey? You're all red,"

"Y-yes!" The confusion on your face caused Gorou's pause, his body fidgeting and eyes trying to latch onto something that could ground his thoughts. "I just, umm... do you think I could... no, never mind."

"Gorou," you gently took his cheek in your hand, placing the other on his chest. "We've talked about this; you know I'll never judge you for anything,"

Ears coming to lay on his head Gorou nodded, still blushing wildly as he finally found the courage to make his request.

"Could you... kiss my ears?"

You cooed quietly, heart overflowing with love for your sweet partner but trying not to embarrass him further. Taking his hands in your own, you kiss Gorou's ears twice each, trying not to giggle at the way they twitched each time.

As you brought yourself away, Gorou whimpered faintly, likely not on purpose.

"Come on, let's head back to camp. I have a report to give for this reconnaissance mission, and you have more kisses to gain, perhaps somewhere more private?"

You smiled demurely as Gorou blushed, swiftly nodding his head and following you and Tawara back to the camp with anticipation.

Wanderer

Now renowned scholar ‘Hat Guy’ was currently in class, despite his vehement protests towards attending formal lectures, leaving you alone in the home to tidy up the shared space.

Lesser Lord Kusanali had seen your relationship bloom since the beginning, before even either of you had seen it. She was immensely pleased that the previously misanthropic puppet had grown to love another, and once informed of the official announcement of your relationship, she generously allowed the Wanderer to move from the Sanctuary Surasthana to a home of her choosing close by. It was a quaint and quiet home, but both of you cherished the space. It was a place you could just be together, and need nothing more. Because of this, you took great pride in making sure the home remained a place of respite, and so liked to keep it tidy.

Deciding to start with the laundry, you gathered a basket and went to the bedroom to gather anything in need of washing. Humming a little to yourself, you plucked the pillows off the bed, thinking of washing the cases, when a little thud on the ground came as you lifted your partners pillow.

Curious, you knelt to inspect the thing that had fallen. What was he hiding in his pillow? Kuni certainly wasn’t the type to believe in improving his sleep by hiding trinkets under his head. However, what you discovered made you gasp. On the floor lay the tiny cotton doll resembling Kunikuzushi, its beaded eyes reflecting its obvious displeasure with having taken such a fall.

Tenderly, you took the doll in your hand and stroked its head as you would with Kunikuzushi. Why was it here? You had only ever seen the doll once or twice when Kunikuzushi had readjusted his sleeves or changed shirts, but you knew that he always carried the cotton companion with him. Running your hand gently across the doll, you felt a snag on its back. Turning it over revealed a tear in the seam, a puff of cotton poking out its spine.

“Oh, poor thing,” you muttered, rising slowly while you cradled the doll like a babe. “Let’s get you patched up.”

Collecting a sewing kit from the drawer and sitting carefully on the edge of the bed, you let the doll rest on your lap as you prepared. Gently, as if it could feel your stitching, you mended the fabric. You smiled as you steadily sewed. It made you happy to think you could help Kuni this way, even if he had tried to hide the issue under his pillow.

Kuni has always been private, even with your long-standing relationship it wasn’t easy for him to show such vulnerability. But this doll was his vulnerability, a piece of him he showed almost no one. It was fulfilling to aid it.

Pulling the thread tight, you tied it off and admired your handy work, turning the doll over to greet it again,

“There, all better.” You landed a tender kiss on the top of its head, sealing all your love and care into its plush fabric.

A small choke brought your head up, allowing you to see your partner standing in the doorway, a rare kind of apprehension etched upon him. Your eyes caught each others, astir in stagnant bodies. Kunikuzushi's hand trembled on the doorframe, mouth open as if trying to form words he didn't know.

Through the silence, you lifted a slow hand, extended and opened with a hopeful invitation. The puppet approached, taking your hand and the seat beside you. No words were spoken as you gently lowered his head into your lap, letting his body lie across the bed and his arms wrap around the mended doll. As tears began to shake from Kunikuzushi’s face, you leaned down to press kisses to his head, caressing his hair and allowing him to finally feel the pain and vulnerability that had always ached in the space where his heart should have been.

"Thank you, for daring to love all of me," The shaking whisper stirred the greatest sense of care in your heart.

"You have never deserved anything less,"

The response brought him to sit up, clasping his body around yours as he continued to wring tears into your shoulder.

Perhaps it was not often that Kunikuzushi showed his vulnerability, but you could never stand to mind. Not when these tender moments were so treasured. Besides, you knew well that you would take anything he gave you. You were ready to love it all.

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