#Strafe Man

[dynmghts]

what a good day to remember that even though it was a part of the rejected dynamy comic, katsuki just wants to be appreciated with, i quote, all the dreadnought love (someone) has.

brace yourself a second, i'm gonna talk nerdy history talk.

if you don't know: a dreadnought is a battleship classification from the beginning of the 20th century, which was used as the main naval battleship throughout wwi. the namesake comes from the first of its kind, the british navy's hms dreadnought!

but in japanese kanji, it specifies "super-dreadnought". katsuki, first of all, knows his historical classifications. but second, a super-dreadnought is a very loose term coined for ships developed which "outclassed" a dreadnought - starting with the british orion class battleships, circa 1914. they outclassed typical dreadnoughts in size and firepower (and by that i mean their guns were 13.5 inch, compared to 12 inch).

extending on that idea of "super-dreadnought", though: japan had multiple ships that fell under this classification. the main ones i want to mention are the nagato and yamato-class battleships, super-dreadnoughts, which were some of the most powerful ships in the world for a very long time. (the nagato-class was completed post-wwi, the yamato-class was completed pre-wwii.) their firepower completely outshone any predecessors; remember, the first super-dreadnoughts had 13.5 inch guns. WELL. the nagato-class had 16.1 inch guns, while the yamato-class had 18.1 inch guns, to compare.

"so cam what the FUCK are you getting at," you may ask. i swear i have a point here!

katsuki is saying that if you're going to love him, it should be with the entire firepower of a super-dreadnought battleship. and knowing katsuki, he's not just saying a single measly pre-wwi dreadnought battleship; remember, he said super-dreadnought in kanji. if we indulge in my headcanon that he's the BIGGEST history buff, he's likely alluding to the yamato-class battleship.

you know, the battleship with approximately nine naval artillery guns, twelve dual-purpose turrets, twelve anti-aircraft guns, twenty-seven automatic anti-aircraft cannons, and four anti-aircraft heavy machine guns, on top of aircraft launch capabilities........

so anyway tl:dr love is war and he demands it as such.

[ahalliance]

me on my delulu arc hoping tubbo and étoiles will be teamed for purgatory 2

[strafethesesinners]

Welp. That didn’t last long.

[uhohgottashreep]

hermits (mostly etho) being in awe of slash terrified of gem, an inexhaustive compilation:

etho: she's gonna drop you like a sack of bricks, ren.

etho: she's brutal, man! she's brutal, okay?

gem: i actually just have a dungeon i'm trying to decorate / xisuma, giggling madly: that's awesome.

etho: not so easy, is it, doc?!

etho: she's ready for anybody.

xisuma: one hit, that's all i got [on gem]?! the first hit?!

doc: she's juggling me like an absolute boss--!

(special shout out to 1. xisuma asking her about her strafing patterns and nodding along with great interest + 2. doc putting his netherite back on and wailing that it's "the only way to beat her!" ｏ(*≧∇≦)ﾉ)

[darlingdarkly]

Fates Worse Than Death

A Deimos x f!reader Series

Chapter 1

Word count: 5k

Part: 2

OG A/N: Hey, hi! So, tomorrow is my birthday. And for my birthday I decided to write a hugely self indulgent smutty fic for myself and instead of writing one for cod like I’ve been doing and contributing to an already super saturated fandom I have decided to write it for my r6s fandom, which admittedly keeps looking deader and deader, but I know that if I’m scouring the tags for fics then maybe someone else is too and so I’m gonna share my gift to myself in hopes that someone else who’s desperate for content will find it and be glad it’s there.

Second A/N: Hey! So I decided to make this a series actually. This will stand as chapter 1 💕

Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Listen to me 👁️👁️ I need you to heed the tags. I am going to tag the hell out of this thing and if you don’t read the tags then you’re throwing yourself into a mixed bag of whatever the hell and that’s on you. The tags are there for your benefit. Not mine. You have been warned.

CW: non con elements, dub con elements, interrogation, belt spanking, bondage, unprotected climactic p in v intercourse, oral (f!receiving), abduction, hair pulling, fingering, death, blood, mild game spoilers 🤷‍♀️

This is the point of no return, you click this button and you consent to the content on the other side.

This takes place after Deimos has killed Harry but before Rainbow has captured him, if you give a shit about canon events and timeline. Enjoy 💕

The chilly night wind whipped through the leaves, rattling them noisily and aiding in concealing your stealthy movements. You and three other operatives cut through the wooded terrain like silent wraiths as you sought out the hidden compound due north, said to be home to his lair. The mission was simple, get in, extract Deimos and exfil.

You moved quickly and quietly bringing up the rear of the squad. Rifle locked and loaded, the muzzle pointed out ahead of you, strafing for contact. You heard your squad leader over the comms, gruff and clear as he spoke to your contact back on base.

“Rainbow, this is O1, we are two clicks due south of the compound. ETA 15 for contact, are we a go?”

After a moment of measured silence he got a response. “Rainbow to O1, you’re green lit. Standby for evac.”

O1 came back moments later. “Copy that. Over.” There was an audible cut through the radio before O1 addressed your squad. “Alright, squad. You heard the man. On your toes.” Each of you responded in turn. “O2 copy.” A pause. “O3 copy.” You depressed the button on your headset and responded. “O4 copy.”

Soon after, the four of you crested a hill and fanned out over the top of it, laying eyes upon the brilliant glow cutting through the velvet of night like a knife. O1 came through your ear piece and gave curt instruction. “O2, follow me to the east. O3 and O4 you take west. Stick close to the perimeter, plant the charge and fall back. We detonate on my count and breach simultaneously. Do you understand?”

The three of you responded in unison. “Sir, yes sir.” You saw him motion forward and your group began to move, splitting into your assigned pairs and descending upon the compound. You lost sight of your squad mates in the thick of the trees but kept close to O3 as you neared the far west walls of the hidden base. Just as you made the bottom of the hill there was a panicked cry over the comms from O2. “What the fuck is that? O1 we have a disturbance.” There’s a break in his speech, a long drawn out eerie quiet that unnerves you.

“Sir, we’re not alone! I repeat, not alone.” There was a faint scuffle in the distance and a single gunshot before O1 came over the comms, frantic. “O1 to Rainbow, we’re made! Requesting evac. It’s him.”

You and O3 stopped and turned towards the commotion, unsure of how to proceed. There was a heart stopping, pained scream in the distance and you heard Rainbow call to the pair of you over the comms. “O3, O4, this is Rainbow. Get out of there, you’re compromised. Get to evac. I repeat, Get to evac!”

The pair of you took off in the woods, abandoning mission and headed west towards the evac point. You could feel your heartbeat in your chest and had to focus to calm your breathing. At this point it was about survival as you followed close behind O3 and cut through the woodlands for the helo just eight clicks west.

There’s a flutter in the air, a woosh of displaced air as something whizzes by and you hear O3 ahead of you begin to panic. “Christ it’s him! Run for it, now!” O3 bolts forward and you’re sprinting to catch up but soon he’s lost in the copse of pines and all you have left of him is his panicked yells and heavy breathing over the radio. “O3, where are you? O3!?!” You hear the deafening discharge of a heavy caliber ring out in the still night and it’s too close for comfort.

You veer away from it and towards the evac. Splitting off on your own as the blood of your last remaining squad member drains from the brand new vent hole in his head and begins to quickly cool in the night air. You can hardly hear yourself crash through the woods, boots scaling over rocks and fallen logs as your breath quickens and terror begins to set in.

You miss the whirring of the foreign object the second time around but there’s no mistaking the calm, collected voice in your ear as he hacks through your comms and makes himself known. “There you are. There’s no hiding. Not for you. Not for me.”

Rainbow comes in low and static-y though the comms and you struggle to make him out clearly. “O4 do you… in O4… Get out! I rep-… Deimos is tra-…. On your posit-….” And then everything cuts. Your comms go dark and you’re officially alone, the last of a nearly dead and shattered squad in the dead of night in the thick of the sticks.

Determined not to die in the midst of these pines you beeline for the green blip on your gps. If you could just make it to the helo you’d survive but as you took a final glance at your position a second blip pinged. A dark red skull just twenty meters back. His deathMARK. You felt a lump in your throat as you realized you’d been made and triple timed it, arms pumping at your sides as you tore through the woods in fear. Pure terror coursed through your veins and nipped at your heels, promising death if caught. There was no capture, Deimos wasn’t known for taking prisoners.

You mounted a hill and pushed out between two huge oaks as you practically slid down the other side. You made huge strides, legs driving you towards salvation as you pushed them to the limit in hopes of escape. You were only four clicks out when you tripped, stumbling over something hard and unseen as you crashed ungracefully to the ground and tumbled in the leaf litter. You scrambled to regain your footing, clawing at the earth and struggling to your feet.

You had just made it up when he hit you like a freight train, violently tackling you and knocking you on your back. The pair of you rolled in the foliage, tumbling over one another in the night and sprawling apart as you came to a jolting stop.

This was it, it was fight or die so you grabbed for the push daggers secured to the straps of your tac vest and faced your adversary. He came up ready to fight, charging forward and lunging for you. You drove forward with a fist, spearheaded leathily by the edge of the knife and swung out to bite at his throat. He pulled back and you sliced through air instead, he followed through with an arm on your elbow and brought your arm down over one thick thigh, breaking your hold and successfully disarming you.

With one knife left you pushed back at his chest and swung forward to attack, hoping to aggressively close the distance and quickly end him but he grabbed your arm with his strong gloved hands and twisted it around until your back was socketed into his chest. He pulled on your limb and brought it down hard over his knee, breaking your hold for a second time and disarming you completely.

You struggled out of his grip and tried to make a break for it, a last ditch effort to stay alive and bolt but he caught a grip on your ankle and you once more went sprawling to the ground, ass over teapot. When you turned around to face death you caught sight of his ballistic mask towering over you, he held the magnum in a tight grip in his right hand and you knew it was over. At least you’d die with your squad, knowing you’d done your best and been outplayed.

But instead of staring down the unblinking black eye that was the bore of his barrel you felt the butt of the .44 Vendetta crash down on your temple before the night stole over you and blocked out all thought.

It wasn’t til much later that you awoke, sluggish, confused and in tremendous pain. The room was bright but cold and when you tried to alleviate the pain in your head by bringing your hand up to soothe it you realized you were bound and secured to some kind of padded platform. Your arms were stretched out and down in front of you, bound together by something strong and without give. Your legs were similarly bound but tucked up beneath you on the padded bench. It was then you realized you were also naked from the waist down. Your chest was covered but had been stripped of your tac gear and uniform and replaced with a stark white tee, your bra was also missing.

You weren’t blindfolded or gagged but when you tried to whip your head around you found it hard to maneuver, only about five degrees of field of view to see on either side and all you could see of that was dingy white tile from floor to ceiling. You struggled in your bonds but stopped as you heard the slow, methodical blows of his boots on the concrete steadily drawing nearer. You stiffened and tried not to think about the view he no doubt was privy to from this angle. He broke the silence first.

“Well she’s finally awake. Don’t struggle, the knots won’t give, I tied them myself.” He sounds smug and confident as he strides up behind you, voice low and clear, not quite deep but thoroughly resolute, the draw of a southern twang peeking out subtly but sophisticated. The venom in you begins to well up in your throat, your teeth grit and body tensing as your anger builds and your hate gestates.

You let loose on him, anger burning a hole in your chest as you feel robbed of your rightful death, you shouldn’t be here still breathing, you should be dead in the woods with your squad, not tied up and captured like some kind of prized war spoil. “Fuck you! Kill me, you bastard!” He let himself come into view, circling around you with his arms clasped behind his back. He was still fully clad in his black tac gear and ballistic helmet, the dark, obsidian lenses of his eyes gleamed deviously in the fluorescent light.

“Can’t get information out of you if you’re dead, now can we?” You ground your teeth in your skull, body trembling in half fear, half seething rage. “You won’t get a damn word out of me, motherfucker! You’ll have to kill me, I won’t talk!”

His head tilted slightly as he tisked, chiding you calmly. “Such a nasty mouth.” He disappeared from view, the dark drape of his cape flowing out behind him, returning to his position behind you as you heard a rustle and the soft tink of metal on metal as he lifted something off of a table. “My godfather was a stern but loving man. He taught me at an early age about duty and responsibility. About discipline and respect. I loved and respected him dearly but as all boys are, I had a tendency to be rowdy and disrespectful at times. He taught me these values with a firm and unyielding hand. Something I think you could use a good helping of.”

You heard the crack of the belt as he brought the two looped ends taut in his hands and immediately stiffened, the hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up. “You’re going to tell me everything I want to know, including the details of your mission, the intel you received and who you received it from along with the coordinates of the Rainbow base.” He stopped and waited for your response, you sat still and silent, mentally preparing yourself for the coming onslaught.

“Nothing to share?” You shifted in place but spat out at him, tongue in cheek. “Fuck you.” Shortly after you felt the first lick of the belt as it cut through the air and cracked across your bare ass, making you jump and yelp. It may have been a far cry from conventional interrogation methods but it was still painful and humiliating. You heard the leather slide in his fist before you felt the second blow, just parallel to the first, aimed and executed with precision to land just beside it on the same cheek. “Fuck!”

He hummed contently. “Tell me what your mission objective was.” He languidly paced behind you as he waited for your answer, when none came he brought the belt down on the other cheek twice in rapid succession, giving you no time to recover. You tried shifting away from the blows but had about a half an inch of clearance for wiggle room, there was no evading it.

He kept it up, pausing and then attacking ruthlessly, periodically stopping before doling it out again, fat, opaque lines began to criss cross on the smooth surface, marking his progress. He questioned you again and you held silent, preferring to suffer through the consequences rather than give in and endanger an entire base of your colleagues for the quicker respite of death. He’d kill you in time either way, it was better to hold out and die honorably than relent for a swifter end.

“You’re resilient, tough little spit fire, I’ll give you that. But you should know your silence has consequences.”

You sneered at him where he couldn’t see. “I don’t give a fuck about me. Beat me, torture me, cut my toes off one by one, I don’t care. You’ll kill me when you figure out I’ve got nothing to say to you and I will die honorably.”

He laughs and it makes a sliver of uncertainty worm through you. “I’m not going to kill you, sweetheart.” The pet name makes you queasy but his response only confuses you. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“When our little talk ends, the door closes. If you don’t tell me what I wanna know by the time we’re through here your life as you know it ceases to exist.”

“I already told you to just go ahead and kill me. I’ll die before I tell you anything that would put Rainbow at risk.” Instead of punching you in the ribs or breaking a finger he just leaned in til you could feel the warmth of his chest settle over the top of your bare ass and it felt much more sinister than any strike or blow.

“Oh sweetheart, there are fates much worse than death.” You still don’t quite understand and he senses you struggling to grasp the full scope of the threat so he takes a break from the spanking and explains it to you in full detail.

You hear him set the belt down on something before you feel his gloved hands caressing your ass, running the covered fingertips over his handiwork and down the swell of your cheeks before dipping lower and skimming the slit of your sex. His fingers come away slick and he smirks behind the mask where you can’t see.

“If you don’t tell me what I want to hear then I’m going to take these-“ You hear a jingle from behind you and know they’re your dog tags, probably scalped from your neck as he undressed you no doubt. “-and I’m going to throw them out in the woods with your dead squad mates. They’ll think one of two things. Either you died out there like a good soldier and some animal, pack of coyotes perhaps, carted your body away or, I finally caught up with you, gave you an ultimatum, and you sold them out from under the rug. Either way they’ll come to the conclusion that you’re beyond saving and they’ll bury you in an empty casket and move on.”

You felt it all coming to a head and the audacity of it came to be too much. “You’re wrong! They’ll never stop looking for me! You think they’ll give up so easily! They won’t stop until they find me! Ohhhh and they will find me! You are so fucked! You are sooo-“

The crack of the belt against your ass cut off your angry rant, the words dying in a pained yelp as he brought the leather down on your ass in an angry torrent. SMACK. SMACK. SMACKSMACKSMACK.

You clenched against the pain, trying to curl up on yourself but of course it was no use, you could only sit and take it. When the onslaught ended he continued.

“You didn’t let me finish. Either way… no one is going to come looking for you. And I think I’m starting to like you so instead of killing you, like you’re dying to have me do-“ You feel the return of his fingers, the cool leather of his glove soothing against the heated stinging welts already swelling on your cheeks. Then they glided down and you felt his fingers spread your lips and when he spoke this time he sounded different somehow, louder and clearer.

“-I’m going to keep you all to myself. I’ll house you, clean you, feed you. During the day I’ll keep you tied up in here, my own sweet little stress relief, make the walls of this room echo with screams of a different caliber for a change.”

It wasn’t until you felt the flat of his tongue glide up the length of your sex that you realized why he sounded so much clearer, he’d taken his mask off and now he was casually eating your pussy, tongue dipping in between his fingers spreading you apart so gently, a stark contrast from the harsh belt treatment he’d been afflicting upon you moments before.

He hummed into your pussy and you squirmed against the heat of him, simultaneously freaking out yet undeniably turned on as his tongue probed you and his hands caressed the cheeks of your ass. He pulled away and you weren’t sure if it was a sigh of relief or a whine of protest that built a home in your throat, kept at bay only by the last mustering of your will.

“So sweet. When I was a boy growing up in Birmingham, I used to play in the sugar cane fields for hours. Me and my friends would cut away stalks from the edges of the field for a taste. You taste just like that, fresh cut sugar cane.” You shuddered in his hold and told yourself it was all psychological warfare, it changed nothing. When he had the information he seeked he would cut you down just like he did all the rest.

You felt him step away from behind you and come up to your side, his hands trailing like fire along the length of your body as he did so. He reached under the platform you were tied to and suddenly your arms pulled forward in front of you, forcing your chest to pull forward and press against the bench. Your ass raised up high and unshielded as you felt the collective wetness of his saliva and your slick coating your lips, chilly exposed like this, but it doesn’t take long before he’s resumed the position and you feel his hot breath fanning against it, rewarming his meal.

“We’re gonna have a lot fun, sugar cane.”

“So.” Lick. “Much.” Lick. “Fun.” Lick.

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped, at this new angle he had access to the fulty of you and his tongue dipped down and swiped at your clit on the last lick making you momentarily lose yourself in the white hot pleasure of it. “Fuck!”

“I intend to.” You don’t grasp until much later the meaning of that, lost to the way he eats you so slow and sensual. He chuckles behind you and you know now, without a shadow of a doubt, that he intends to keep true to his word because he’s stopped questioning you, stopped beating you, just content to sample his new toy. Your life is over, because you won’t give up Rainbow and you won’t tell him a goddamn thing and your stubborn honor has damned you in a way that was worse than death and now you’ll spend the rest of your days keeping his cock warm until you’ve gone insane from it.

Taking his time and savoring the taste of you on his tongue, you feel the first press of his padded fingers prodding your entrance. Gently pushing forward til he was in just up to the first knuckle, sawing them in and out slowly and twisting them in your heat as his tongue stayed latched to your clit, suckling it.

“Deimos!” He rewarded you with an open mouthed kiss to your clit as he pushed his gloved fingers further into your depths, exploring them as your back arched nice and pretty for him as far as your binds would allow.

He pulled his tongue away to your dismay but kept his fingers buried in you, stilling their movement but curling them inside you to press teasingly against your sweet spot. “Got some new insights for me, sugar cane?”

Your lips were sealed shut as far as that was concerned but your resolve was waning, you recognized the point of no return you were quickly approaching and despite the horrible implications of your future, there were just too many good men and women with their lives on the line for you to justify the alternative.

So you shifted shamelessly to push back on his fingers, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to focus on the pleasure and not the humiliating position you were quickly failing to resist against. He recognized the move as you made it and gave you what was to be his last warning.

“Let me put it in no uncertain terms for you. When I come right in here-“ He flexed his fingers inside you to demonstrate his point, eliciting a high whine from you. “-your time is up. You can sing all you want but past that point you’re no longer your own woman. You’re mine, do you understand?”

You didn’t even consider your freedom for the briefest of seconds, just nodded solemnly as you accepted his terms, though little they mattered. Although he’d seen your nod it mustn’t have been good enough as you felt the all too familiar crack of the leather, jolting you from your thoughts and bringing you back to the present. You clenched down on his fingers, eyes rolling in their sockets at the euphoric sensation.

“I need a verbal answer.” Your grit your teeth for not the first and certainly not the last time dealing with him. “Screw you!”

He laughed, it was easy and carefree. “All in good time, sweetheart. I’m gonna enjoy my meal first.” With that he seemed to be done speaking, leaving you to stew over a decision you’d already made and ruminate in the consequences of it. He dove eagerly back into the heat of your sex, plunging his fingers enthusiastically in and out of your pussy while his tongue lapped at the juices that seeped out around them.

He watched as your toes curled in on themselves, mouth dropping open where he couldn’t see and expelling breath in a silent moan. He proved to be skillful in a manner of ways and this seemed to be no exception to the rule, making light work of bringing your pleasure to a head and threatening to throw you over the edge quicker than you’d like to admit.

You fought for control of your body but it was a battle you were unavoidably losing as he pulled his fingers free and replaced them with his tongue, pushing it deep into you and occupying his hands by rubbing circles over your clit with his thumb. It was a devastating sensation that pulled your muscles taut, your head raised up off the padding and tipped back as far as your restraints would allow as you suddenly came violently.

He spurred it on, lapping at your sopping wet slit and never ceasing the movements of his thumb, making you shake and really test the strength of your ties. He drove you through your orgasm, not even slowing as you began to plead with him to stop, it was too much. When you thought you’d tumble head first into a second one he finally relented, leaving you gasping and panting as you vaguely heard him shucking his pants behind you.

You felt something hard and blunt at your entrance as he slid his cock up to you and rifled it up and down your slit, wetting the tip and enjoying the light springy jump that coursed through you every time his head hit your clit.

“Last chance, sweetheart. As much as I’d hate to lose your company, you’re running out of chances to secure your freedom.” You could hardly focus on his words, still caught between struggling to catch up from your first mind blowing orgasm and steeling yourself against the promise of a second one if the way your pussy was trying and failing to catch his tip and suck it in was any indicator.

He lined himself up and pushed forward, causing you both to moan out together as he stretched you open on his girth. “Fuck me, you are sweet.” He slid home, hips pushing flush with yours as you adjusted to the way he seemed to fill you out perfectly. Your head dipped as he began a steady, unrushed rhythm, slapping his hips to yours every time he drove it home.

You had stopped breathing since he’d entered you and suddenly took one huge sucking breath in, filling your lungs just to immediately expel it as a broken but pleasured moan. He growled behind you and you could feel it vibrate through you in a whole new sensation, overloading your senses, coursing white and blinding in its intensity.

“Please!” You had no idea what you were begging for but it just felt so right, losing your sense of self, reduced to nothing more than nerve endings. He reached forward and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back and taking out the slack as your back arched to accommodate his hold.

“Oh god!” You could hardly imagine how you must look, head cocked back and slack-jawed as he split you open from behind. Each thrust was precise and calculated, wringing you for every last drop of pleasure until your mind went blank and your whole being submitted to the fucking.

He leaned forward, breath hot and heavy right behind your ear as he spoke and he must’ve known you were a goner because instead of trying to extract information he just spoke of the future. All the ways he’d bend you to his will, how he’d break you and build you back better in his image.

“It’s truly a shame we met under these circumstances. Under a different light I’d have enjoyed training you, honing your skills instead of wasting all this potential such as it is. Under me you’d have made an unstoppable operator. Now you’ll never see combat again.”

For some reason this truth had only now dawned on you, some deep part of your brain had held out hope of escape or retaliation or vengeance but cock drunk beneath him you knew it was hopeless, he was absolutely right and you were ultimately fucked.

As if he’d been holding back he renewed his vigor and began to pound into you from behind with abandon. Your mouth was dry and your knees were screeching at you from below, despite the padding, but all you could focus on was the pool of pleasure building heavy in your gut. There was no turning back from this, your mind screamed for you to do something but any other thoughts were beyond you and so you expelled them with the rest and took your fate as it sealed, securing a chokehold around your throat and brought you to heel.

You came around his cock, the second world shattering orgasm of the evening and much more all encompassing in its magnitude. You were certain you felt your heart stop, lungs burning for air as you clenched down around him. Seconds later he followed, coming with a half moan, half growl as you squeezed him for all he was worth. White hot spend filled you from the inside out and it was as blissful as it was damning.

The game was up, you were his. You stayed like that, riding the bliss and eyeing up the defeat that swelled up to take its place as it faded. He pulled out of you slowly and you felt his seed drip from you, slide down your thighs and puddle on the bench below you. You hardly heard him as he cleaned himself up and redressed. There was a click as the door to the room opened for the first time you were aware to hear it and two men stepped into the room.

There was a moment of nothing before you felt two firm hands wrap themselves around your arms and loosen your binds. They held you up til the tips of your feet hardly grazed the cool concrete floor and stationed on either side of you, held you up for inspection. You lifted your head to see him standing before you, dog tags dangling from one fist and the belt folded over on itself held tight in the other.

“I can’t say I’m disappointed in you, soldier. You stood your ground and that commands immense bravery. But you knew the rules and now you’ll reap what you’ve sown. You mustered up enough strength to gather saliva in between your lips and spit at his face. It didn’t quite make it and landed at his feet but you could hear a smile in his voice as he commanded the men at your side to carry you up to his quarters. He’d be seeing you again very soon.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Daemon x velaryon warrior reader please

This is set during the war in the Stepstones. Reader is Corlys’s daughter who is a little older than Leanor and Laena

keep sending requests

-

Many knights had shared a laugh when you arrived on dragon’s back alongside your brother Leanor. They thought your father was a fool to allow you to join them in the Stepstones, to fight at their sides. According to them– according to men, you needed a cock – regardless of its size – to partake in wars and battles and they were very insistent about that.

Every time you opened your mouth to share your input on a strategy or offer to go on the warzone, someone would oppose and make a sexist comment, but you were always quick to remind them that a war was fought with swords, arrows and dragons, not genitals.

And Daemon loved every second of it. He marveled at the way you never let anyone walk over you and weren't scared of putting men back in their places.

‘’Woman, leave the strategy to the men and stick to the embroidery,’’ Vaemond sniggered, getting other men to laugh along.

Your blood was boiling. ‘’Are you insinuating that I lack the wit to come up with an attack strategy? I'll have you, uncle, know that the last attack was my idea and we successfully put down a hundred men thanks to my night patrolling. You should know by now, uncle, that knowing your enemy is essential to plan an attack. It lowers the fatalities on our side and you know we need all the men we have left.’’

Vaemond refused to believe you. ‘’Lies!’’ he called. ‘’Leanor came up with the idea.’’

‘’Knowing you would oppose to the idea, I shared it to Leanor and asked him to present it to prove you all that I am capable of coming up with war plans.’’

Before you, Vaemond was speechless and Leanor was looking smug, proud of his sister.

‘’What role have you played in this council, Uncle, other than Master of Complaints?’’ you added to fuel the fire just as a dragon’s shriek was heard over your heads, announcing Daemon returned with Caraxes.

‘’Enough!’’ Lord Corlys barked, breaking the bickering between his brother and daughter. He narrowed his eyes at Vaemond, wishing the older man would just stop belittling you and accept that you were part of the war council. Mayhaps if he did, the other knights would do the same. ‘’Leanor! What are our options?’’

‘’The Crabfeeder created a choke point here, beyond these dunes.’’ Your brother placed the paw on the war map to better explain. ‘’Archers hold the high positions, foot soldiers hold the ground. We’ve strafed them on dragon back again and again, but they just retreat within the caves. Dragons can circle Bloodstone until they fall out of the sky–’’

Leanor’s voice was drowned, your eyes and attention shifting to Daemon as he walked up to the table everyone was reassembled around, having returned from flying over Bloodstone. He removed his gloves and put them on the table, then removed his helmet, revealing sweaty silver hair and fierce braids. You felt a tightening in your stomach from looking at him, the dirt on his face rendering him more attractive in his warrior attire armor.

‘’What’s the report, my prince?’’ a knight asked, waiting expectantly.

‘’The Crabfeeder and his pirates retreated to the caves the moment they saw the dragon,’’ Daemon reported, finding himself at a stalemate. 

‘’We could block the issues of the caves and catch them when they leave? They can only last so long in the caves,’’ one of the Velaryon knight suggested.

You shook your head. ‘’How long would we be standing there for? Hours? Our knights will get tired and the pirates will use it to their advantages to attack. It could end in a bloodbath for us. We cannot afford to lose more soldiers.’’

‘’Besides, the caves go on for miles,’’ Laenor added, supporting your point. ‘’They probably have food and all else they could ever need in the caves. The Crabfeeder and his men have no reason to leave those caves.’’

‘’Then, we must give them one.’’ It was crazy, but you had used up all the sane strategies by now -- and you were running out of time and men. ‘’An offering of flesh to bait the crab.’’

A thick silence installed itself around the table, knowing your strategy would put someone’s life in jeopardy -- and possible death.

‘’Who?’’ your father asked, breaking the silence. 

Vaemond's obnoxious laugh followed. ‘’Which man here will happily go to his death? Show me the knight who will march into that hell pit, niece, and I will show you a madman.’’

Your eyes flickered to the silver haired warrior before you. ‘’Daemon.’’

You would not call Daemon a madmen; he was impulsive and unforgiving, but also a devoted and talented warrior and, unlike some people at the table, he was fighting this war in the Stepstones, swinging Dark Sister and slaying pirates on the grounds. 

‘’Please elaborate, Lady Y/N?’’ the prince said, interested in your idea.

Once again, Vaemond was baffled. ‘’You are willing to let the woman direct us? To drive you to your death?!’’

’’Call me ‘woman’ again, uncle, and I’ll have you fed to my dragon. Silverwing hasn’t had her breakfast yet,’’ you said, your threat not empty. 

The corner of Daemon’s lips curled into a smirk. ‘’Caraxes could use some more meat too, in case anyone agrees with Lord Vaemond.’’

-

Taglist: @taylordaughter  @gillybear17 @liltimmyst @eos-princess   @Kaitieskidmore1 @instabull  

House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones taglist: @anastasiaxsworld @lollypopcrazylover @fin-never @dkathl @ayamenimthiriel @nerdy4itall @rraindrops @glors3 @beelanie @hc-geralt-23 @sweetybuzz25  @uniquenightsheep @kaywsworld @i-yam-awesome @caspianobsessed @kelssssxd @dilfsarebetterthanyou @missyviolet123 @leakycauldrns @brezzybfan @khaleesihavilliard @vexedvalerie @lollaa-puff @my-dark-prince @chevelledahuman @caspianobsessed @ayamenimthiriel @yor72 @mirandastuckinthe80s @newtsniffles @cleverzonkwombatsludge @justaproudslytherpuff @ren-ni @green-lxght @anginoguera @bubblebuttwade @comicsol1999 @rockerchick05 @baelavelaryonwp @tnu-ree @beccawinter @alexisabirdie @persage @hayleighloatx @kindaslightlyacidic @perdynerd @elsyyie @puffycreamcakes  @thirsty4nonlivingmen  @naty-1001 @xannybabyxx  @katiepie67 @kjones375 @moshpot24x @hc-geralt-23 @lovelynerdytraveler @saturn-sas  @zgzgh @sssjuico10 @tabloidteen @timetoten @deekaag @wondxrgurl   @queenofshinigamis @aerangi @strmborns @astridyoo15 @Wehi02 @daemonslittlebitch @queenbeestuffs @severewobblerlightdragon @agentstarkid @msliz   @cayleecook38 @yoyopolloobamadaddy @hayleighloatx @vane1999-blog @smptxx @fairyfolkloresposts @yassi-world @todaywasafairytale07 @ESobilal @otomaniac @zgzgzh @thebeardedmoon @golden-library @kikyrizuki @hnslchw @camy85 @winxschester @khaleesihavilliard @domoron @ididliquorice @lover-of-helios @lover-of-helios @shine101 @tanyaherondale @mikariell95 @Katelyn15m @serrendiipty @lantsovheiress @gilliananderfuckme @shine101 @tetgod @beggarsnotchoosey @vainillasmil157 @kizzyxren @clayzayden@memeorydotcom @Harryshousewhore @kodzuvk @tnu-ree @omgsuperstarg @futuregws @blackravena @ashlatano7567 @winxschester @mysteriouslydelightfulchaos @xxlaynaxx @uh-no-actually @secretsthathauntus @lemiqa @pilarxxxaguayo @emmavan39 @stargaryenx @erylilly @bbblackmamba @rainedrop97 @Hc-geralt-23 @dreamer087 @gothicgay14 @ashlatano7567 @superkittywonderland @justaproudslytherpuff @evesolstice @buckysmainhxe @mouldyfrog @padfootsvixen @scarletmeii @drusillaravenclaw @softtina @Jelly-fishy-babie @evesolstice @Thelilacmourning @dkathl @Thelilacmourning @kaywsworld @tetgod @padfootsvixen @xannybabyxx

[becauseplot]

Phil was talking about how, if he and Ranboo ended up 1v1 in the final round of Dodge Bolt, he would throw so Ranboo could have a win, and it gave me the funniest mental image of like:

*in Dodge Bolt*

Phil, strafing back and forth like a madman: "RAN, STOP TRYING TO SHOOT ME AND FUCKING SHOOT ME!"

Ranboo, hands shaking, sweating bullets, on the verge of tears, *this* close to throwing up: "I'M DOING MY BEST MAN OKAY??"

[staycalmandhugaclone]

If you're new, this all starts with Touch Starved - Echo! You can read this little chunk as a standalone, or head back to the beginning for the full experience!

Febuwhump Day 1 Part 3

Touch-Starved – Wrecker - An innocent request leads Doc to a horrifying discovery that she's quick to remedy.

Warnings: Reference to child neglect/ starvation, star wars cursing

WC: 3,452

Still slightly dazed, I watched my hands gather the last of the medical supplies littering the floor from Tech’s evasive maneuvers. He’d sent the Marauder rocketing between incoming fire and tumbling boulders too quickly for my eyes to even keep up with. Hunter had ordered me to stay aboard the ship for my own safety, but the death-defying stunts we’d had to make in order to meet the others at the rendezvous left me certain I’d have been safer with them.

But then we came into view of the very tail-end of their escape. The Separatist forces were staggering. If not for the unforgiving terrain of massive caverns and towering cliffs, the soldiers would have been overrun. Kriff, as it was, they should have been overrun, but the lethal efficiency driving their movements was… nearly inhuman.

Echo danced between flurries of red bolts, the pistol in his hand firing ceaselessly with frightening precision. Even from above, I couldn’t make out where Crosshair lay nestled against the stone wall, somehow anticipating his brothers’ actions well enough to not only avoid hitting them by mistake, but managing to build off their attacks to setoff explosives midair to cover a greater range. Hunter flitted between the targets so quickly, their own computers weren’t able to keep up, lining up enemy fire to take out handfuls of their own numbers between attacks of his own. And Wrecker…

Wrecker was terrifying in the most amazing of ways. I’d seen him toss 100Ib B1’s like they were nothing, but the B2 droids weighed over six times that, and, still, he heaved them about like it was a game. I could practically hear his booming laughter over the screaming engines, knuckles gleaming white as I clung to the flight harness trapping me into the copilot’s seat. Tech hadn’t even slowed down as we skimmed dangerously close to the ground, strafing low enough for his brothers to leap onto the lowered ramp as we soared past.

Of course, they were given the most dangerous missions – each one of them was a far cry from sane, but armed with the mental and physical prowess to rend reality into whatever truth they deemed fit. Maker, I was glad they were on my side…

“H-hey, Doc?” The hesitation in that gravelly voice instantly drew my attention back to the present, glancing over my shoulder to find Wrecker tentatively shifting his weight between his feet just beyond the doorway in a blindly stark contrast to his earlier display of might.

“Yeah, Wreck? Something I can help you with?” I asked softly, offering a gentle smile that I hoped might sooth his lingering unease.

“Ah, well… not really, just…”  Maker, this man was going to be the death of me. It took every ounce of control to keep from melting into a unprofessional flood of affection amidst the display of sweet innocence before me.

“Why don’t you come in here, big guy? I promise that door won’t lock behind you.” I murmured in as gentle of an invitation as I could manage. His gaze shifted briefly, almost as though he was studying the doorway to ensure I hadn’t added some hidden locking mechanism.

“Right, no – I know that.” He said dismissively, but his movements were still stiff as he walked forward enough for the sensors to automatically slide the door shut behind him.

“Alright, you want to tell me what’s going on? Did you get hurt on that last mission?”

“No-no; nothin’ like that!” He answered quickly, hands shooting up to wave away my concern. I leaned back against the cot, hands resting lightly atop the padding in full view as he chewed absently on his lip for a moment.

“Is this about one of your brothers?” I guessed, eyebrow raising slightly.

“Uh… no?” The tilt in that word finally drew an almost exasperated chuckle from me that finally pressed him to speak, though he still stammered over the words slightly, cheeks flaring red. “Well… so, Hunter an’ Echo mentioned what you’ve been… yuh know, that you’ve been helpin’ ‘em, that it was real’ relaxin’ and…” My face lit up, understanding finally dawning on me.

“Wrecker,” I called quietly, “are you asking for a massage?” The instant I said it, his eyes flew open, lips shifting quickly around some excuse that he hadn’t quite worked out. “Sweetie, I would be more than happy to. Is there a spot that’s been bothering you?” The eagerness in my voice seemed to alleviate some of his nervous energy, shoulders sinking slightly as he watched me step away from the bed.

“No-not, not particularly? Just… sounded nice, I guess?” I had to bite my lips to still the way my heart soared.

“Okay. How about I start on your shoulders and back, and if anything feels tender or you want me to focus on anything, you just let me know?” The warmth in my offer was evident even to my own ears as I gently rested a hand over his arm to guide him toward the cot.

“Sounds o-okay, I guess.” He answered in something of a mutter, that earlier hesitation just granting him the briefest of pauses before taking that first step forward.

“Great,” I whispered, letting a grin stretch across my face. “Are you comfortable taking off your armor and shirt?” I asked, stepping away to retrieve a bottle of oil from my personal supply before adding quietly, “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“S-sure.” I wasn’t used to this side of his normally boisterous personality but was eager to reward this step out of his comfort zone with the utmost care. He quickly shed the outer shell of plastoid and shamelessly pulled the top half his blacks off without bothering to loose the clasp stretching down the left side of his chest, and I felt myself pause.

I’d known the man was strong – all of the clones were careful to keep themselves in peak physical condition, but… the way his amber skin sunk against him to overemphasize the peaks and valleys of each muscle was… excessive. With his focus absently tuned to free his legs of the heavy plates, Wrecker, thankfully, didn’t notice that moment of distraction, and I quickly returned my attention to warming the lightly scented oil. That was a concern I would have to address. Soon. But not now.

“Go ahead and lay down on your stomach for me.” I said, drawing that gentle gratitude back into my voice. “Sorry if it’s a little cold.”

“I run pretty warm, so that don’t bother me.” He replied, infectious smile finally returning to those plush lips as he settled onto the cot, corded muscles shifting with painful clarity beneath his skin. Pushing back that fresh concern, I moved to stand at the head of the bed, pouring the oil generously over my hands.

“Mind if I ask what they told you about my messages?” I started at the base of his neck, gently dragging my hands down his spine before shifting up around the curve of his shoulder blades.

“Didn’t say much, I guess – just that you didn’t need to give ‘em any shots to make ‘em stop hurtin’.” The words were muffled against mattress, but the resonance of his voice still carried easily throughout the room. I fought the initial dismissal, searching for a way to ensure he didn’t grow to expect miracles when moments were dire.

“Certain kinds of pain, yeah.” I said, letting the rhythm of my speech fall in tandem with my movements, gradually adding weight to the heel of my palms to begin working the thick mass of muscle. “If you overwork something, or pull a joint wrong, that’s something I can help with.” His shoulders slowly began to sink further into the mattress. “It’s not a magic cure for everything, but I like to think it helps.” He hummed quietly, the sound rumbling against my fingers.

“Don’ think ‘nything’s helped like that when Hunter has one of th’s episodes.” His mumbling was getting worse, and it nearly drew a huff of laughter from my lips.

“I was really touched with how considerate the rest of you were for him - you could hear a pin drop in this thing.” The light praise flowed softly from my lips, shifting slightly to focus more pointedly on the swell of tissue sweeping from his neck down to his shoulder.

“Hm, when he gets like that, nothin’ we do c’n really help, so only thing we can do is not make it worse.” The subtle groan dragged through his words. “Wha’ver you did’s the first thing tha’s worked.” The heartbreak his absently mumbled comment shot through my chest brought with it the too real threat of tears, and I had to take a slow breath to steady myself.

“I’m really glad I could help.” I whispered as though it was a secret shared just between us. “And I’m really happy you’re giving me the chance to help you, too.” A shy laughter shook through him. “Did Hunter tell you about the breathing technique I had him do?” His head shifted slightly as though to glance back at me before going still once more.

“Don’t think so.” He replied, and I could feel some tension return to his shoulders as his attention tuned in on me.

“That’s alright. Would you mind if I walked you through it?” He shrugged lightly with a hesitant, ‘sure,’ and I fell into that trance-like cadence. “All I want you to do is breathe in for five seconds, and then slowly breathe out for eight seconds.” With Hunter, I’d offered no forewarning, anticipating his own assumptions to throw him off-balance enough to disrupt that impatient reluctance, but, with Wrecker’s willingness to follow my lead, I didn’t want him unbalanced. I wanted him calm and confident, fully aware of what to expect.

“Breathe in for 5…” He readily lost himself in the quiet meditation of those guided breaths, occasionally letting out a small groan as my touch dug between his shoulders. He tensed slightly at the sound, but quickly relaxed at the steady continuation of my count.

As I worked, straining my own muscles to push deep into his, I couldn’t help but cringe at the mass of knots lining his spine and tangling beneath his shoulder blades, certain that the only reason he couldn’t pinpoint a problem area earlier was because everything hurt and found myself wondering if it was a pain he’d grown so accustomed to, he’d simply learned to ignore it. Driving by that fear, I meticulously soothed out each ball of kinked tissue until my sweat-soaked hair stuck to my forehead, straining to quiet my own breaths as I continued quietly guiding him through his.

The unruly mess of knots was only a part of my worry, however. His body was painfully wiry, dense muscles void of almost any protective fat. I knew how readily he devoured his rations, and had seen no telltale signs of illness that might impede digestion, but the man was desperately in need of at least another twenty pounds. The question of ‘why’ settled painfully in my chest. Nothing mattered more to Hunter than his brothers, and I couldn’t doubt that he was both aware of the issue and just as troubled by it as I was. Mind racing over the implications, I tried to keep my mind from wondering too far from the man eagerly turning to puddy beneath my hands.

I’d only just begun leisurely revisiting the worst spots when that deep rumble sounded low in his throat, briefly biting my lips against the threat of laughter, but his next breath shook with an even louder snore, and I couldn’t help the way my slow exhale faltered. Movements unrushed despite how deep in slumber the man was, I slowly worked my way over the broad expanse of Wrecker’s back and shoulders once more before stepping quietly away from the bed to retrieve a spare blanket. He didn’t so much as twitch as I draped the fabric gently over him and silently left the room.

-

“He finally got around to asking you?” Echo was leaning against the wall just a few meters from the medbay entrance, eyes shining with a mirth I couldn’t help but mirror, lips instantly pulling into a broad smile.

“He did.” I confirmed happily, chest puffing out in a little dance of pride. “He just might sleep all the way back to Kamino.” The arc chuckled quietly at my glee, lips shifting with a response, but my expression fell when I caught sight of movement behind him, and he went quiet. Shooting him a grimace of a fleeting smile, I quickly tread passed him.

“Hunter?” I called softly, freezing the Sergeant mid-stride. Eyebrow cocking slightly, he glanced over his shoulder at me as I paused barely a meter away. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” His gaze darkened at the way my troubled words whispered on a hushed breath, giving a short nod before motioning me into the rec room and purposefully closing the door behind him.

“What’s wr”

“Will you take your shirt off?” I interrupted, teeth nervously working over my cheek as my fingers fidgeted against the plate of armor stretching around my thigh. Any other day, the sudden shock that shot over his face, brows arching high above his eyes as his lips fell just slightly open, would have granted me no end of laughter, but the worry twisting through my chest robbed me of that. His expression twitched into a frown, gaze burring into me with that normally unsettling intensity, but, at that moment, I barely noticed it.

“I’m not going to like where this is going, am I?” His voice dragged past his downturned lips with a deep reluctance.

“Please.” I whispered, head tilting slightly, shameless of the desperation in my voice. His gaze turned pointedly away, jaw jutting forward as he released a deep sigh, but with a subtle shake of his head, relented, quickly piling his armor into a neat stack beside him before undoing the clasp of his shirt and pulling it over his head. Fabric still dangling in his hand, he crossed his arms impatiently over his chest and let his eyes sweep back to mine, but I didn’t notice the sharpness of his gaze.

Maker, I could see the outline of ribs connecting to his sternum. Throat shifting to swallow back the sudden stiffness, I stepped closer to him, ignoring the elegant tattoo overlaying his left side as I studied the wretched slenderness of his waist, hips far too visible against the stretch of his blacks.

“Get what you need?” There was a harshness in his voice that only deepened the guilt sinking through my gut.

“Yeah – just lost a bet with Jesse about that tattoo.” I muttered but found no relief in my own wretched joke. “If I drag Crosshair and Tech in here, am I going to be able count their ribs as easily as yours?” I asked, eyes finally dragging up his painfully lean body to see the defensive anger flare through him. The muscles balled against his jaw, tendons gleaming white as his hands tightened into fists.

“Maker, I’ve been with you for months!” I had to turn away from him, hand dragging through my hair as I fought to steady my own breaths. “Kriff, I’m so sorry.” Exhale fleeing in a tense huff, I forced myself to look back at him, to let him see the depths of my guilt and sorrow, and I saw the hesitation tentatively replacing that anger.

“Will you tell me why?” I begged. His tongue darted over his lips, that burning intensity of his gaze studying me anew.

“Can I put my shirt back on first?” Some heartbreaking mixture of laughing and sobbing shook through me, eye slipping closed as my head dropped to my chest with a small nod, absently listening for the shuffle of fabric to cease before looking back at him. He’d turned that glare toward some distant point beyond the far wall, arms once more looped over his chest as his jaw ground stiffly for a long moment.

“The Kaminoans were never particularly considerate when it came to our… differences from regs.” He started quietly, fingers absently thrumming against his forearm. “Wrecker was nearly twice our weight even as cadets, but they barely gave him any extra rations. The rest of us have been… making do – splitting our shares with him.” I went painfully still as he spoke, horrified at what he’d just told me.

“You’ve been… this has been going on since you were kids?” The words barely flitted across my tongue, reluctant to even grant them that much voice. A flash of that anger flared through him as those dark eyes briefly darted back to me, but whatever he saw when he looked at me quickly stifled it, gaze dropping to the metal floors beneath us.

“I haggle for extra food where I can, but, between the regs and the long-necks, there’s not exactly a flourishing network willing to share with us.” He growled, clinging to what safety his anger granted him. Swallowing back my own disgust at that revelation, I turned resolute eyes up to him.

“Thank you, Hunter.” His brow hitched up at my words, but I was already turning away from him, mind churning over how to fix this because if I didn’t, if I let myself fall into the despair of not noticing it sooner, I’d be no good to any of them.

-

I’d spent the next hour rapidly typing out messages and quickly sent them in the brief lapse between lightspeed travel as Tech changed hyperspace lanes, and, the instant we landed, darted quickly down the ramp with barely a word of explanation to the others. They’d be busy with standard debrief for at least an hour, and there was every chance we’d be taking our leave again shortly after. I had to make sure everything was finalized by then.

The last delivery had just arrived when the squad made their way back to the Marauder, and they all stopped short, looking over the half dozen crates stacked up around me.

“That better not be some useless nat-born-” I interrupted Crosshair’s snarled comment by silently tossing a ration bar at him. He easily caught it, gaze lingering over the wrapper for a moment before turning back to me.

“Oh, kriff yeah! It’s all food?” Wrecker boomed, snatching the bar out of his brother’s hand before trotting quickly forward to dig through the open box beside me. I’d didn’t have time to answer, lips only just pulling into a small grin before he shouted, “It is! Aww, these are my favorite, too!” The impressed surprised on Tech’s face sent a flush of heat up my neck.

“How did you manage to requisition so much?” He asked, glancing briefly over the wealth of supplies before looking back toward me.

“I’m your medic.” I started simply. “Regretfully, an oblivious one, but my orders still carry some weight. I pulled rank where I could and called in a few favors to update your base inventory.” The darkness that replaced the fleeting glimpse of confusion lingered for barely a heartbeat before his expression went carefully blank. His head dipped in a small nod before turning to his still exhilarated brother.

“Wrecker, let’s get these loaded. We will need to rearrange the supply room in order for them to fit.” Even the loathsome task of organizing couldn’t dampen Wrecker’s joy, and, before he moved to help, the towering man darted toward me, mischief gleaming in his eyes. I barely had time to tense before his arms darting around my waist, iron hold locking me against him as he hoisted me up in a fit of laughter. My hands darted out to his shoulders, loud gasp tearing from my throat.

“Thanks, Doc!” He set me back down and darted away so quickly, I had to grab onto one of the crates to steady myself, cheeks burning at Echo’s quiet laughter.

“Impressive.” The arc murmured warmly as he tread passed me into the ship to help Tech, the sniper following him with barely a glance toward me.

“I’m not sure if I should be grateful or offended in how quickly you were able to get all this.” Hunter said, stepping quietly toward me. My jaw tensed, again feeling that resurgence of guilt.

“This isn’t a one-time thing,” I murmured, gaze carefully burring into his, “I swear. Hunter, if it’s not enough, you tell me.” He watched me in silence for a long moment, but finally replied with a small nod.

Next Chapter

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[strictpunishedhubby]

“Natürlich ist es für Dich sehr beschämend Dein Faltenröckchen festhalten zu müssen, Deinen rosa Schlüpfer an Deinen Knöchel seit Deiner Züchtigung heruntergezogen zu lassen und ihn nicht hochziehen zu dürfen, um von mir den Rohrstock zwischen Deinen Pobacken geklemmt zu bekommen. So bestraft musst Du auf eine weitere Lektion mit dem Rohrstock warten! Ja mit Deiner Nase zur Wand musst Du Dich so lange in die Ecke stellen bis ich entschieden habe, wann ich fortfahre Deinen Po gehörig durchzuprügeln! Du befindest Dich ja nicht zum ersten Mal in diesem jämmerlichen Zustand! Heute, weil Du den Hausputz nicht zu meiner Zufriedenheit ausgeführt hast, obwohl Du genau weißt, ich dulde keine liederlichen Arbeiten von Dir! Ist es nicht wohlwollend von mir, Dir in der Ecke eine Ruhepause zu gönnen, bevor ich Deinen Po mit dem “Fleißigmacher” gleich noch weiter ordentlich durchtrimmen werde? Wenn der Rohrstock erneut seine Arbeit geleistet hat, werde ich sehen, ob Du Dir mit verprügeltem Arsch mehr Mühe gibst, um genauso gut zu arbeiten wie der gelbe Stock es gleich auf Deinen nackten Po tun wird! Auch wenn ich nachdem Du fertig bist zufrieden mit Deinem Hausputz bin, bekommst Du nochmal eine Ration hintendrauf! Danach geht es für Dich ohne Abendessen unverzüglich ins Bett! Ein fauler nichtsnutziger Mann hat es nicht anders verdient! Ich werde Dir noch Ordnung und Gehorsamkeit beibringen, auch wenn ich Deinen Po täglich durchprügeln muss! Das kannst Du mir glauben! Und morgen vor dem Frühstück bringst Du mir wieder den Rohrstock, damit ich Deine selbstverschuldete Strafe zu Ende bringen kann!”

Solche Worte wendet meine Frau oft an, wenn ich nach einer erfolgten Züchtigung reuevoll, gleichzeitig ängstlich darauf warte bald weitere Prügel von ihr zu beziehen. Die ganze Zeit bin ich nur am Schlucken und am Weinen, nicht nur weil mein Po so wehtut, sondern weil ich mich zu tiefst schäme, mich durch eigenes Verschulden in diese missliche Lage gebracht zu haben. Wusste ich doch schon vor der Ehe, ich werde eine strenge Frau heiraten, der ich strikt zu gehorchen habe. Wenn sie mir Aufgaben erteilt, so habe ich diese korrekt und gewissenhaft auszuführen, wenn ich nicht von ihr hart bestraft werden will. Ich habe ihr auch deshalb beigepflichtet mich nach ihrem Gutdünken zu erziehen, weil ich selber weiß, wie oft ich mich ungebührlich verhalte, und eine Ehefrau solch ein schäbiges, unfolgsames Benehmen nicht hinnehmen kann. Ich respektiere die Strafen, die sie über mich verhängt, weil ich meine Frau liebe und Angst davor habe sie sonst verlassen zu müssen. Im Übrigen wurde ich schon von meiner Mama, die ich ja auch geliebt habe, genauso bestraft und sehe ein, Strafen müssen für mich sein, wenn ich mich nicht erwartungsgemäß gehorsam und artig verhalte.

.

 “Of course it is very embarrassing for you to have to hold your pleated skirt, to have your pink panties pulled down to your ankle since your punishment and not to be allowed to pull them up to have me cane clamped between your buttocks. So disciplined you have to wait for another lesson with the cane! Yes, with your nose to the wall, you have to stand in the corner until I've decided when I'll continue to beat your butt properly! It is not the first time that you find yourself in this miserable state! Today it is because you did not clean the house to my satisfaction, although you know very well that I will not tolerate any slovenly work from you! Isn't it kind of me to give you a break in the corner before I continue trimming your butt properly with the "diligent worker"? When the cane does its job again, I'll see if you try harder up to work with your ass beaten just as well as the yellow stick is about to do on your bare bottom! Even if I'm satisfied with the house cleaning after you're done, you'll get another ration on your backside! After that you go straight to bed without dinner! A lazy useless man deserves nothing less! I will still teach you order and obedience, even if I have to beat your butt every day! You can believe me! And tomorrow before breakfast you bring me the cane again so that I can finish your self-inflicted punishment!"

My wife often uses such words  after a spanking, when I am remorseful and at the same time anxiously waiting for more beatings from her soon. The whole time I'm just gulping and crying, not just because my butt hurts so much, but because I'm deeply ashamed that I put myself in this predicament through my own fault. I knew before marriage that I was going to marry a strict woman whom I have to obey strictly. If she gives me tasks I had to do them correctly and conscientiously if I don't want her to punish me harshly. I also agreed with her that she should raise me as she sees fit, because I know myself how often I behave improperly and a wife cannot tolerate such shoddy, disobedient behavior.  I respect the punishments she inflicts on me because I love my wife and am afraid of leaving her. Incidentally, I was punished in the same way by my mummy, who I also loved, and I see that I have to be punished if I don't behave as expectedly obediently and well-behaved.

[stardestroyer81]

The eight robot masters of Mega Man Ultimate are my pride and joy. As evident by their intro posts, plenty of thought went into the conceptualization of each bot, and it was very fun to revisit their initial 2018 designs and sprite them while making a few design tweaks for their big tumblr debut!

However, while I was taking a good look at the sprites I had made of the octet of renegades, I noticed something... I was fairly satisfied with every sprite I had drawn, though I felt as though I could do a lot better with one in particular, both in terms of his sprite and his design as a whole...

Strafe Man, the overconfident high-flyer.

Unlike the other seven members of the Synth Legion, Strafe Man's design had hardly been altered since I first settled on a design for him back in 2018— the most he had ever really gotten was a color change here or there, and I've also found that he's the single most underrated robot master of the eight in spite of proclaiming to be the coolest.

Let's fix that, shall we?

With a flashier winged helmet, bigger wings and a much more arduous arsenal, Strafe Man has officially been done justice! My goal was to give him a more detailed and streamlined design compared to his 2018 counterpart (Which there wasn't inherently anything wrong with, he just looked plain alongside the other SLN units), and I'm certain I succeeded in achieving just that!

If you'd like a bit more insight on Strafe Man's redesign... you know just where to look to find them (Here's a hint; it's just below)! ✨

[shadowsandshapes]

FFTB | CH 9: Delayed Indulgence (Dabi/F!Reader)

Summary: You escaped the scene, only to have Dabi manhandle you into a corner. He seems troubled, but you quickly realize his anger is not directed at you. No - he's furious with himself and his emotions reach a boiling point. His heart spills over… Contains: Inner Turmoil, Payoff To Pining, Comfort!, Fluff, Spice Light

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“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The phrase echoed against the damp pavement and brick walls. Your heart hammered against your ribs in anticipation. Despite the venom and hatred he had expressed, Dabi had come to your aid when you needed him. While he had been cold and cruel to you before, there was no sign of that same vitriol now. Anger – yes, but it wasn’t quite directed at you in particular. 

Rather, Dabi seemed more upset with himself than anyone else.

His rescue had left you breathless and now he was fuming. Stomping his feet like a stubborn child as he paced the width of the alley. You tried to think of a genuine answer to the question rattling around in your mind. Frankly, you also wanted to know what your problem was. And Dabi’s problem for that matter. Something about his stride looked frantic and unnerved. You swore it felt like he was scared to be near you – avoiding your eyes and bitterly muttering to himself. Like he was trying to outrun you without actually leaving.

The thought almost made you laugh. Dabi wasn’t afraid of anything – nothing could shake him like that – and certainly not someone like you. No matter how much you liked to pretend you could have that effect on him, it all seemed a little ridiculous. Still – you couldn’t shake the feeling you were on the cusp of something important.

As for Dabi himself, he hadn’t expected to come and find you immediately when he heard you were in the area. Fuck  – why did he have to be nearby when you were around? He had more self-control than that. That’s what he kept telling himself whenever you were spotted by one of his sources or informants. Jumping at the chance to see you again was pathetic and desperate. But curiosity had gotten the better of him. He had to see you, he had to see for himself how you were doing.

Were you just as miserable without him as he was without you?

Tracking you down had been far too easy. Even taking into consideration your careful nature and thorough understanding of the villain underworld, you wouldn’t have been able to avoid Dabi forever. He had eyes in every faction. Connections with various villain watering holes and mercenary joints were hard to come by, but Dabi had made the effort for the sake of his goals. It’s all about who you know in this world. He had never imagined using it to search for a woman though. Yet here he was – using everything at his disposal to get to you.

Only to then find you grinding on some greasy bastard in a nightclub.

The very sight of you with another man made him want to hurl. Let alone two of them. It inspired an unstoppable sense of violence in his heart. A sudden, burning need to hurt everyone in his path. Anyone who stood between you and him was a threat. A problem to be snuffed out and dealt with. Dabi wanted to claim you like that man had. Wanted to touch you like him, hold you like him and much more. You were a scourge he couldn’t get rid of. The second he saw you in person again he was lost. Desperate to reach out and take your hand.

Despite this sickening obsession still running rampant in his heart, Dabi had managed to suppress the urge to swoop in and take you away. Instead – he had resigned himself to let you be, choosing to watch and wait. The compulsion to seek you out would vanish eventually. Walking away would have been the right thing to do. You didn’t need him. The mistakes you chose to make were your own and had nothing to do with Dabi. Those guys could have ruined you. He shouldn’t have cared. But he did. He strafed back and forth in front of you, mind racing with a million and one questions.

‘Why’ being the most prominent one.

Why did he intervene? It didn’t make any goddamn sense. He should have let you go. You were moving away from him and that very notion brought him to action. This was some weak Hero bullshit. Feet moving on their own accord. Springing to action to save another. Dabi was a villain. He didn’t do that. Why was being away from you such agony? You were just some girl he had met in the midst of all this chaos. A passing interest on his way to bigger and grander goals. Who was he to lay claim over you when he was the one to push you away in the first place? He couldn’t stand it. The way his chest tightened and burned for you.

Every time you looked his way with those pretty eyes, he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Dabi –” you started, reaching out in an attempt to soothe his frantic pacing. This was the first time you’d seen him so expressive. The guy was clearly going through it, even if he tried to hide how he was really feeling behind an angry scowl. The sound of your voice calling his name so gently was unbearable. It was too kind. Far kinder than he deserved for how he had treated you. Before you could do anything to calm him, Dabi threw his hands up and motioned for you to stay back.

If you touched him now he would break. Shatter beneath these confusing, overwhelming feelings.

“No – no, let me talk. Just listen – I messed up, (Y/n). Colossally. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. You’re everywhere. All the time. I thought that by getting rid of you I could stop feeling like this.” You quietly watched Dabi rattle off his grievances, every word spat out like a resentful confession. 

He didn’t want to tell you – but he had to. 

With each stride he made back and forth between the walls of the alley, Dabi ran his fingers through his raven hair. Harshly pulling at the strands. You flinched at how aggressively he yanked at them, fingers threading the hair and wrenching at his scalp. Despite how excruciating it may have seemed to you, the action seemed to bring him some kind of relief. It did nothing, however, to slow the unstoppable torrent of words from pouring from his lips.

Honesty was so fucking awkward and painful.

“You’re a fucking nightmare. I burned your things in the dumpster out back but it didn’t help shit. Then I saw you with those guys and I –” He couldn’t say it. Admitting he was jealous meant admitting to something he was vehemently trying to deny himself. Dabi was so close to the truth but couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Couldn’t see what was in front of him. “It feels hot and chaotic and I can’t stop wanting to be near you. When I caught you leaving that day, I just couldn’t let it happen. Instead of talking to you I – ” He paused, tripping over his tongue and thoughts at the same time. “I’m fucking obsessed with you (Y/n) – and I’m sorry.”

Finally calm enough to brave your eyes, he let out a deep sigh and stopped pacing. Dabi felt lighter. For the first time since your falling out, he could breathe again. Even if you’d seen him act so irrationally. Breaking down like that was something he hadn’t done since he was a child. He felt small and vulnerable next to you. Pathetic and weak. But it had to done. You had to know how sick he felt without you. Dabi’s fingers relaxed as he withdrew them from his hair, hands falling to his side in resignation. All that was left was your reaction. Whatever it may be – he would have to accept it. Dabi didn’t even know what he wanted from you, really…

Forgiveness, comfort – did he deserve any of that after what he’d done?

You stood in silence, giving him a moment of reprieve from his own feelings. It clicked into place then. The attraction. The lashing out. The lengths he had gone through to push you away. It all made sense. Dabi might not have realized the gravity of his confession in the moment – but you certainly did.

You stepped forward and grabbed onto his coat’s collar. “Kiss me.”

“What?” Dabi blinked – confused.

Did he really need you to spell it out for him?

“You’re in love, dipshit. Please Dabi just fucking kiss me or I’ll do it for you.”

With your permission given, Dabi’s last shred of restraint was broken in an instant. His kiss was searing and passionate. You squeaked against his lip as a hand grasped the back of your head – pulling you closer. In contrast to your last run-in, there was no malice on your tongue but the taste of desperation had increased tenfold. Dabi felt the difference. Your arms locked around his neck as you stretched to kiss back properly.

You fucking troublemaker.

How had he not seen it? Maybe because Dabi had always considered himself above petty things like love. It wasn’t for him. Vengeance and retribution had been all he needed to stay alive up until this point. Then you showed up. Made him laugh and cared for him when no one else would. Most importantly: you saw right through him, catching glimpses of the boy Touya used to be – and you didn’t look away. If anything, your constant prying was what scared him the most. 

Now he realized it wasn’t a bad thing. 

You were fearless when faced with someone as ugly and depraved as Dabi – more than that, you loved him for it. He could feel it in the way you kissed him. The warmth of your lips. The quiet, gasping moans that poured from your mouth as he pushed you up against the wall – your legs wrapping around his waist as he hoisted them up. It was more than proof enough that you were serious about this. The fact that you wanted this as much as he did was both relieving and terrifying. As was the realization that you were right. 

He was in love with you.

His fingers dug into the skin of your thighs. Dabi marveled at how tender the flesh was. Soft and delicate, perfect in every way. He pulled away to catch his breath – azure eyes eagerly tracing every inch of your blush-dusted face. That enchanting view was something Dabi never wanted to forget. You were gasping, eyelashes fluttering as you attempted to come back to your senses. The weight of your lovely, strong thighs tensing around him was driving him insane. He’d wanted this for so long and didn’t even realize it. 

You were fucking intoxicating and he couldn’t wait to get a proper taste.

However, as much as Dabi wanted to shove you behind the nearest dumpster and make this official, this wasn’t the most sanitary place to take his cock out. With no small amount of reluctance and chagrin, he set you back down on the pavement. Wanting to commit the scene to memory, Dabi rested his forehead against yours and admired the adoring look in your eyes. Love was a beautiful color on you, he decided. Something he could definitely get used to. And he would have to. 

All of this still felt incredibly foreign, but for you, he was more than willing to try his damndest to make this work.

Dabi needed to say something – anything to fill the silence before you changed your mind about the whole thing. He finally had you in his arms and the fleeting thought that this was temporary caused a spark of panic. “Toga misses you.” he said, cringing as soon as the words left his mouth. 

You could have said anything but that, idiot.

Just barely managing to muffle the noise with your hand, you barked out a laugh into your palm. “Toga, huh? Does Toga want me to come home?”

“Yeah…” Dabi smirked and kissed you again – a quick, affirming peck on the lips. “And me too of course. Most importantly me. Me and fuck everyone else honestly. I don’t really care what they want but I’m guessin’ they’re gonna be happy to see you. Don’t worry about Shigaraki. If he throws a fit about you leaving I’ll torch the place to hell.”

You grabbed Dabi by the chin, giving it a playful shake as he snapped his teeth at you in retaliation. “Easy on the arson, hotshot.”

Dabi couldn’t help but grin at the palpable affection in your voice. Fuck. He’d missed this. It had been so long since you’d talked to him like that – he’d almost forgotten what a little shit you were. A precious little shit, though. His little shit. The thought made his heart race. You wanted to be with him. 

Willingly and unapologetically.

“So are you gonna take me home, or what?”

A/N: We needed this. Sorry for the wait (: Confession scenes are hard. Especially when Dabi struggles to accept what he is confessing to. But we're here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, darlings <;3

Taglist: @kelin-is-writing @dynamars @dabislittlemouse @simpysheep @ohnoitsthatonekid @tonysttank

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[teecupangel]

What are your favorite 3-5 things about each Assassin's Creed game (can be anything from design, graphics, story, characters etc.) and some things you hate about each? (And tag some friends to share as well!)

I will try to keep these as short as possible.

Assassin’s Creed

What I love:

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad

The atmosphere and setting

The focus on the mystery for both the Third Crusades and the Modern Day

Everything the Rafiq of Damascus says

What I hate:

THERE IS NO SUBTITLE. Who in Ubisoft thought that would be a fucking good idea???

Altaïr can’t swim and I have accidentally made him jump into the waters more times than I can count.

At least tell me which part of the map I haven’t gotten the goddamn flag is.

Assassin’s Creed 2

What I love:

The prologue with the Auditores. It really makes the tragedy all the more impactful.

Armor of Altaïr!

That one trick where you can snipe your target from the rooftops by killing other guards and making him go to that specific location. XD

Punch out with the pope in Vatican.

Desmond kicking ass in the ending.

What I hate:

Fuck you Thieves’ Guild Challenges and your fucking time limits.

Actually, fuck all time limit based challenges, I’m talking to you, yeah, you, Assassin Tombs challenges. If it wasn’t for my desire to have the Armor of Altaïr and getting the plat I would have had the strength to ignore you.

Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood

What I love:

Assassin recruits and how they can do your job for you.

I will forever love how my friend tried to get me to play AC Brotherhood by showing me how I can whack people using a broom XD

Claudia becoming an Assassin <3

What I hate:

The fall of Monteriggioni TTATT

The loss of the Armor of Altaïr TTATT

Fuck you, Cesare.

Assassin’s Creed Revelations

What I love:

Altaïr.

Darim.

Altaïr being an old man going for a walk while Masyaf is under attack and just summoning ghost Assassins to take care of the Mongols XD

All of Altaïr’s memory seals in general.

Ezio’s new outfit. Fuuurrrr.

That CGI opening. Say what you want about Ubisoft, they’re one of video game companies who make the best CGI videos and trailers.

Ezio singing in that minstrel outfit XD

Ezio finally seeing Desmond’s ‘picture’

What I hate:

Yusuf’s death TTATT

Sofia ending up as a damsel in distress in the final act. At least she got to drive the getaway wagon.

Altaïr dying all alone in an empty library TTATT

Assassin’s Creed 3

What I love:

Ratonhnhaké:ton, precious boi

Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham having different counters and finishers. It really shows how different they move and fight.

Being able to play as Desmond!

Desmond using the Apple to force the guards to kill Vidic then using it on anyone who tries to attack him.

What I hate:

That board game. I never understood how to play it.

The unchangeable end of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s people.

William Miles in general.

Juno in general.

The ending TTATT

Assassin’s Creed Black Flag

What I love:

100% sync means Edward must pickpocket the Templars while they were talking about their plans which meant he canonically pickpocket’ed them.

Sea shanties.

The sailing gameplay in general.

Freedom Cry!

What I hate:

Blackbeard’s and Mary’s death.

I love how this shows the end of the Pirates’ Golden Age but goddamn, I hate how most of them died. I cried at the ending when Anne was singing and it shows all the friends they lost.

The reminder that even that hopeful ending of Edward and Jenny sailing back to England and the epilogue with young Haytham is nothing but a prologue to the tragedy that would soon follow Haytham’s childhood.

Assassin’s Creed Rogue

What I love:

Mortars. Rain of fire! Just keep firing mortars while strafing even if Morrigan is underleveled!

Grenade launcher and just berserking everyone and letting them take care of everything.

Hope Jensen and her Assassin robes.

What I hate:

How Shay wouldn’t have defected if they had just all sat down and fucking talked to one another.

Fucking pigeons.

Hope’s death TTATT

Adéwalé’s death TTATT

Learning my PS4 controller cannot fully tilt so Shay was never sprinting after I almost gave up on the final mission because I couldn’t catch up to Liam and I only knew about it after switching to the controller that never recognize me pressing the ‘down’ button ever and finally seeing Shay sprint for the first time.

Assassin’s Creed Unity

What I love:

Arno, the poor wet silly man.

How it shows a different kind of Assassins and Templars with the Assassins actually trying to stop the revolution while the Templars are off having a civil war with the moderates and the radicals.

The detective sidequests.

How Paris changes as the main story is progressed and the Revolution starts in full swing.

Getting the Eagle of Suger before finishing the main game and dlc and using it to make open combat easier (and one I usually wrongly write as Sugar)

What I hate:

Germaine as the final antagonist felt meh for me.

The cliché love interest dies in his arms that Ubisoft is very fond of.

Being unable to see the most horrifying glitches first hand XD

Okay, in all seriousness, how the whole trailer of Arno and the three Assassins was just a promotion for the multiplayer aspect. It would have been nice if they were part of the storyline as well.

Chevalier de Leon being a sidequest character only :(

Assassin’s Creed Syndicate

What I love:

Evie and her chameleon stealth skill XD

Jack the Ripper DLC

Everything about the Kenway manor.

Desmond the Dog <3

Lydia’s missions and the map.

What I hate:

Having to get 1st place on the carriage horses to get the platinum

The ending of the modern day where Rebecca gets shot and it's just… taken care of in the background later on.

This being the final game we see Juno being a threat and then she gets off’ed in the comics.

Assassin’s Creed Origins

What I love:

Bayek in general

Bayek using the Apple to bash a man’s head repeatedly

The cat sidequest XD

The fact that you can do the loot boxes using ingame currencies that they never implemented in Odyssey or Valhalla.

Discovery Mode.

Unicamel

What I hate:

Khemu’s death :(

Cleopatra betraying them. I knew it was going to happen, I still hated it though.

Ubisoft deciding to change how Amunet killed Cleopatra from actively killing her to just handing her the poison so she could kill herself.

Not being able to change Aya’s gear in her missions. I’d even be okay to locking it so I can only pick the so many twin daggers I have in my inventory!

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey

What I love:

Kassandra shoving the cyclop’s eye in a goat’s ass and having a trophy pop up if you kill the actual goat and get the eye back.

Barnabas

The fire armor and weapon set that lets me kill enemies 10+ levels above me by just watching them burn.

The 'you fucked my padre and killed my madre' sidequest

What I hate:

Brasidas’ death TTATT

Phoebe’s death TTATT

I am so tired of the portrayal of Hades and Persephone’s relationship as being toxic and abusive.

Assassin’s Creed Valhalla

What I love:

Hytham

Being able to upgrade Ravensthorpe.

Orlog… I don’t know why but I enjoyed it.

France DLC with the semi-sandbox way you can assassinate targets.

What I hate:

Fuck the rock physics of this game.

The reason they decided to give Eivor so she would leave Ravensthorpe in the final chapter.

Actually, Final Chapter in general. The only thing I enjoyed in that one is learning Hytham is now teaching his own recruits.

Ragnarok DLC being a separate DLC that isn’t covered by the Season Pass.

(I haven’t finished Mirage yet so I can’t add it here, sorry)

uuuhhh, I guess I'll tag... @saberamane, and @thedragonqueen1998?

[aristocratic-otter]

Hey y'all! It's been a busy few weeks, but thank you all who kept tagging me since I last surfaced : @Iamamythologicalcreature, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @monbons, @thewholelemon, @cutestkilla, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @prettygoododds, @blackberrysummerblog, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello, @rimeswithpurple, @emeryhall, @wellbelesbian, @bookish-bogwitch, @ic3-que3n, @shrekgogurt, and @cosmicalart 

I've got a bit from everything to share today. Though the snippet from Cupid's Shield has technically been posted now, as of this morning.

And yes, I can count, I know some of these are more than six sentences. Do I care?

No.

Lol, I hope you enjoy!

From Saving Simon Snow: 

Baz is dead to the world when I wake up. The clock on the dresser reads ten a.m., which surprises me a little—I can’t remember the last time I slept past seven (other than in my jail cell, where there were no clocks and sleeping was pretty much the only thing to do). It doesn’t surprise me, however, that Baz is still asleep. He’s always been sluggish and cranky in the morning. Besides, yesterday was…well, yesterday was a lot. 

I’m still processing everything that happened, but my stomach tells me firmly that processing is far less important than eating, so I slip out of bed as quietly as I can, and dig through our suitcases for something to wear that isn’t sweated–through or jizz covered. 

From the Heart in the Well

“Who are you?” I shout, and if there’s a faint tremor in my voice, it’s not enough for Baz or the unknown above to tell. (I hope).

The creature above doesn’t respond, at least not in words. Instead, it shakes its head and lets out a ringing neigh. It’s a horse! I stare, bemused for a second, before I realise that what I’m hearing isn’t a typical animal sound. Instead, the neighing takes on the clearly recognisable tone of…laughter. The fucking thing is laughing at us!

From Snow Fox

Fiona’s radiating pride. “Brave as a lion, just like his mum,” she says. “You’ll show that mangy Snow Fox what it means to take on a Pitch.”

I can’t help but imagine my aunt's reaction to finding out that Simon knows quite well how to take on a Pitch. 

On my knees, whenever possible.

The thought prompts an unholy burst of laughter to try to fight past my lips, but I’m a master at containing my emotions. Even so, my lips twitch, but I manage to turn it into a polite cough. 

From TikTok Dancer: 

Snow paces at my side in silence with a pensive expression on his face, his hands clasped behind his back. 

My curiosity about this man is burning inside me, and it churns sickeningly in my gut with feelings of betrayal and animal lust. I want him. I hate him. And I don’t understand him. 

But the one thing I won’t do is be the first to break the silence. 

From Stars, Flowers, and Children,

He starts breathing again, but doesn’t speak to me. Not at first. Instead, he rushes to pile wood on the fire and then fumbles desperately for his own fire starting kit in the pouch he carries tied ‘round his waist. I’ve turned to watch him, morbidly curious about how he’s going to react to my betrayal. And it was a betrayal, I’m not fooling myself about that. I knew that Simon desperately wanted a ship to come. I knew how much getting off this island meant to him.

And I denied him that. 

From Cupid’s Shield:

I would have known something was wrong regardless from the way his smiles disappeared (even if he’d never smile at me, he smiles constantly at most anyone else, and I soak his happiness up vicariously every chance I get). 

I was so disturbed by his misery that I was tempted to invite him home with me. I didn’t—my family would have eaten him alive—but I wanted to. 

That early winter afternoon, we were all roused from the torpor of pre-holiday ennui by screams coming from the great lawn. I was in our tower room when it happened, and when I looked out to see a dragon strafing the lawn and Simon Snow running to face him…well, I didn’t think, I just acted. 

I raced out of Mummers and climbed to the ramparts.

From my COBB project:

“Snow, what the fuck,” he says, his voice coming out as a wheeze because of the way I’ve got him squeezed under my own bulk. 

“Shut up!” I snap. “You idiot! You nearly broke [redacted]!”

Baz stiffens under me when I call him an idiot, but when I accuse him, his muscles go slack, meaning I sink into him before I can stop myself. I swallow hard at how nice he feels against me, but then I tense up. This is beyond inappropriate. 

Tags and : @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed, @frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @messofthejess, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix, @shemakesmeforget, @larkral, @confused-bi-queer, @theearlgreymage, @j-nipper-95, @facewithoutheart, @best--dress, @nightimedreamersghost,  @thewholelemon, @youarenevertooold, @nausikaaa, @artsyunderstudy, @ileadacharmedlife, @angelsfalling16, @noblecorgi, @alexalexinii,

[slave-of-fem-queen-fatale]

Einbrecher

Wir waren ein paar Tage unterwegs. Doch ein Teil unserer Lampen geht auch am Abend an und aus. Als wir am Sonntag im Bett lagen, hörten wir etwas im Treppenhaus. Vorsichtig schlichen wir uns aus dem Schlafzimmer, obwohl wir beide nackt waren, denn unsere Kleidung lag noch im Bad. Tatsächlich kam eine Person in den Flur. Wir nutzten den Überraschungsmoment und sprangen auf die recht schlanke Person. Mit wenigen Griffen hatten wir die Person im Schwitzkasten und klemmten seine Hände auf dem Rücken. Da wir noch unsere Spielsachen von der Reise im Flur stehen hatten, waren schnell paar Handschellen gefunden und wenig später noch breite, schwarze Kabelbinder für die Füße. Der Typ jammerte und wollte sich befreien, aber er hatte keine Chance. Erst jetzt bekam er mit, dass wir bei nackt waren und machte große Augen, als wir seine Maske vom Kopf zogen. Noch immer versuchte er sich zu bewegen und zu flüchten, doch nach und nach brachten wir mehr Kabelbinder an. Dann stellten wir den Kerl auf die Knie, machten das Licht an und konnten sein Gesicht sehen. Er war noch keine dreißig und man sah seine Angst. Wir stellten ihn vor die Wahl die Polizei zu rufen oder seine Strafe gleich bei uns zu erleben. Weinend bat er darum keine Polizei zu rufen. Also schleppten wir ihn unter einem der Balken, welche wir zu Fixierung auch nehmen. Hände wurden nach oben gestreckt und festgebunden. Mit einem Skalpell, schnitten wir ihn die Kleidung in Fetzen bis er nahezu Nackt vor uns stand. Abwertend nahm meine Frau seinen Schwanz und seine Eier in die Hand, quetschte fest daran und gab ihn paar Schläge darauf. Zu unserer Erheiterung begann sein Schwanz zu zucken. Doch nun ging es zu Bestrafung. Wir beide nahmen unterschiedliche Peitschen und zogen diese abwechselnd über seinen Körper. Der Einbrecher wand sich vor Lust und offenbar auch manchmal vor Schmerz. Immer wieder schlugen die Gummi- und Lederriemen ein. Sein Arsch und Oberkörper waren inzwischen voller Blutergüssen und am Arsch platzten erste Hautpartien auf. Keuchend stand er vor uns und denn tropfte sein Schwanz. Immer wenn eine der Fäden den Boden berührte, gab es paar kräftige Ohrfeigen. Meine Frau und ich waren von dieser Art der Bestrafung inzwischen richtig heiß geworden. Also gönnten wir uns eine Pause und fickten gleich vor dem Einbrecher. Meine Frau kam mehrfach und spritze enorm ab. Trotz seiner misslichen Lage, stellte sich bei unserem Anblick sein Schwanz steil auf und er bleib auch steif, nachdem wir schon unsere Lust befriedigt hatten. Natürlich registrierten wir das und es ging in die nächste Runde. Nun mit zwei Bullwhipps, wurden sein Körper so lange bearbeitet, bis er nur noch leise wimmernd in den Seilen hing. Lediglich sein Schwanz tropfte weiter und zwischendurch sonderte er mehr als nur die Lusttropfen ab. Schlaff nahmen wir ihn von dem Balken. Als er so vor uns kniete, ging meine Frau ins Schlafzimmer und zog sich einen Strapon an. Dabei nahm sie den größten Dildo. Nun endlich durfte ich auch kommen. Während der Einbrecher vor uns kniete, durfte ich meine Ladung auf seine Rosette spritzen. Sofort setzte dann meine Frau den Dildo an und schob den Gummischwanz ohne Rücksicht in dessen Arsch. Der Kerl bäumte sich kurz auf, entspannte sich aber ziemlich schnell und konnte nun hart genommen werden, bis er auslief und wenig später völlig erschöpft zusammenbrach. Erst jetzt warfen wir uns paar Kleidungstücke über, nahmen den Kerl in unseren Transporter und fuhren mit ihm in die nächste Stadt. Zirka eine Woche später fanden wir einen Brief bei uns vor der Tür. Dort entschuldigte sich der Einbrecher für seinen Überfall und gab zu, dass er wohl schon mehrfach in Häuser eingedrungen war. Dazu gab er uns genaue Angaben, auch wo das Diebesgut ist. Er versicherte uns, dass er es zurückgeben würde und auch für die Schäden aufkäme, doch unter der Voraussetzung, dass wir ihn für jede seiner Daten bestrafen würden. Seit dem ist er regelmäßig bei uns und wird bestraft. Inzwischen hat er sogar erfolgreich den Einstieg ins Berufsleben geschafft.  

[german-sissy-andrea]

Aufgabe: Trinken der eigenen Sissy-Pisse

Jede Sissy sollte in der Lage sein ihre eigene und natürlich auch andere Pisse zu trinken, ohne dabei zu würgen oder gar zu brechen.

Um dies zu trainieren sollte man langsam anfangen. Die nachfolgende Aufgabe richtet sich eher an Sissys, die schon ein wenig mit Pisse gespielt haben. Sie kann auch als Strafe oder Demütigung von einer Herrin oder einem Herrn eingesetzt werden.

Aufgabe: Einen ganzen Tag lang wirst du nur deine eigene Sissy-Pisse trinken, vom Aufwachen bis zum Schlafengehen. Viele Sissys haben mit dieser Aufgabe schon hart zu kämpfen gehabt und sind trotzdem gescheitert. Der Schlüssel zum Erfolg ist, sich selbst zu beherrschen um zu sehen, wie weit man selbst gehen kann. Für die Aufgabe solltest du ein Glas/einen Becher mit einem Fassungsvermögen von mindestens 500ml den ganzen Tag über bereit halten. Jedes Mal wenn du pinkeln muss, pisst du in das Glas und trinkt es danach direkt wieder aus. Damit du viel pinkeln musst, trinkst du direkt nach dem Aufstehen erst Deine Morgenpisse und direkt danach noch einen Liter Tee. Viel Spaß!

[precious-little-scoundrel]

No one talks enough about how intelligent and valuable John “Bucky” Egan was. He was chosen Air Exec for the 100th and the scene where he was following Crosby’s navigations with no prior knowledge? Not to mention he seemed to somehow always get his way with his superiors and CO, if that man wanted to fly - he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him from getting on a plane. Invaluable on the ground and in the sky. Gale was the happiness of the group of boys (at least in the show, once he’s gone everyone’s ~ different ~ ) but Bucky had a relationship with the higher ups, making sure his boys were okay, and then with the squad themselves. He was the strength of the group while Buck was the glue. And none of this to take away from how amazing all the men are in history.

Oh my gosh preach it! Much as it’s discussed about what a goober he is, how heart-on-his-sleeve he is, etc, and how that effects his eventual spiral in camp -I think the chief hindrance there is also his chief virtue:

He’s always been their #1 Advocate.

The sheer amount of love and care he’s sown in the 100th is incredible and so selfless and as you pointed out, often done behind the scenes. I think that was half of what drove him batty in captivity was a complete lack of leverage to appeal and secure for his men what they needed -the tipping point being the strafing during the marches. But truly, he is a gem, he’s got brains under the humor and so much heart. I love to hear a little appreciation being given for it.

Anyways, anyone who wants to scream about Egan’s underrated leadership qualities? Parachute into my inbox, babes