#and that anon will be pleased to know that the skin and blood tests are back and

[kosher-salt]

Every few years I discover another thing about myself that the nazis would have gassed me for immediately.

[thegnomelord]

What about Monster!AU for prompt 5. Male reader and price please :)

Sure thing anon, made it a mage reader again, was trying to study for a 'lovely' surprise test but inspiration decided to strike me :/. Play the game HERE

Prompt: “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot.”

CW:NSFW, switch/power bottom Dragon Price, Male Mage reader, Oral, Anal, shower sex, semi public sex, reader is oblivious for a bit.

Price swears his hair and scales are going to go completely gray because of you.

You've been avoiding him for a week now, and all the base knows why — Price can still hear your desperate voice begging and bargaining with whatever will listen "I'll buy you dinner please-just stay alive- I love you- damn it you slimy bastard don't you dare die on me-" as you try to keep him alive, magic flowing from your arms to heal the gaping hole in his side despite the bullets raining overhead; a valiant knight protecting him like he's a prince instead of a dragon.

And Price can remember the way his heart had fluttered at your words, at the way you had hugged him so firmly to keep him safe as your magic raged all around you like a wild force of nature, at the way you looked at him so tenderly— eyes burning with mana like the gaze of a god he's your most prized possession —right before the blood loss made him black out.

But now that Price was out of the hospital, his side permanently marked with your magic and a hefty load of paperwork on his desk, you were acting like you never said anything. Anytime someone brings it up you just ignore them, ignore him, throwing yourself into training as much as you can. And it's getting on his nerves, his draconic blood making anger and malcontent burn in his bones because you'd looked at him like a mate but now it's like he doesn't exist beyond training and missions.

He knows it's against the rules, knows he shouldn't hope for much when he sets out to find you, but he does. It's not hard; though his sensitive nose easily picks up the stench of magic, it's the lingering mana burrowed into his skin that tugs him in a direction, even the foreign parts of him wanting you. He finds you alone in the training room, the ground around you scorched beyond hell.

"We need ta' talk lad." Price rumbles as he closes the door behind him, the deep thrum of his voice hiding the anxious pressure he feels in his chest.

Your head whips to look at him. Price cherishes the way your eyes soften when you see him like a glittering gem. Then a sea of ice settles over your eyes, and you turn your head back to the target dummy as if looking at Price makes you sick. "Nothing to talk about captain."

"That so?" Price asks like he doesn't believe you, because he doesn't. Ancient instincts tug on his mind and he follows them. You know he knows what's plaguing your mind, both of you are aware of the elephant in the room and Price can see the way your shoulders progressively tense as he draws near. But you're a stubborn fool, you refuse to show how his presence makes your heart beat faster despite how each of his steps rings like a gunshot in your ears.

Your mind fails to conjure up words but you force an "Hmh," out of your throat, trying to ignore how Price is so close to you, the heat of his body radiating into yours. His remaining wing stretches out, scales and leathery membranes barely brushing over your shoulder, but the intent is clear; the claim is clear.

You try to ignore him, ignore yourself, clinging to the sensation of your sharp mana digging into your veins as you summon another bout of magic to shoot at the training dummy, whisps of formless energy quickly forming into your preferred element.

His hand settles on your hip, not enough to make you loose focus just yet. "Because last ah remember," He leans in closer, the smell of black coffee and cigars on his breath. This close he can smell you instead of your magic, his chest rumbling against your back with a happy purr. "you promised me dinner if I lived."

You nearly choke on air, your magic sputtering out like an old car engine. "I-" You whirl around, your noses almost touching from how close you are. "-that's not what I'd meant!"

His heart should break at that, but before it can his sensitive ears pick up how rapidly your heart's pounding in your chest, reptilian eyes noting how you're flushed more than usual, breathing rapidly without even noticing it.

"Really now?" That greedy part in his bones urges him on, begging and pleading for him to just take you. His other hand settles on your shoulder, keeping you in place, close to him just like he wants. "Then ah suppose all that 'bout me bein' a slimy bastard was also not true?"

You want to flinch away but can't, your own body a traitor to you, a deep frown tugging on your lips. "Price, I wasn't-"

"And-" He cuts you off by leaning even closer, his forehead resting against yours and fuck, your head fits perfectly between his horns, like you belong there. "-I must've misheard you when you said you loved me?" He raises an eyebrow, voice both teasing and serious, holding his breath.

Just that small contact of skin on skin has your resolve crumbling like sand, "Listen, just-" You suck in a sharp breath, the situation both bliss and hell for you. “My feelings aren’t real and my heart’s a fucking idiot. Okay? And just-" You try to stammer the same lies you'd tell yourself every time you'd catch yourself thinking of him more than just your captain (which was way too often).

Price's clawed hand grips your chin and manually closes your mouth, his smooth scales cool against your warm body. You forget to breathe, your eyes flickering all over his face as he smirks, voice deep and guttural like the rumble of moving tectonic plates. "Then I'm an idiot too."

The world goes completely silent as he kisses you, holding your head still so he can claim your lips for himself, his deep purr shaking both of your chests when you submit so easily to him, like getting a gulp of fresh air after years of drowning.

You're so lost in his taste and his scent and just him you don't notice when Price roughly pulls you into the showers, tail and wing and arms holding your body; as if your brain could even conjure the thought of leaving. Bursts of awareness assault your mind every time you part for a breath and to displace a piece of clothing, his sharp claws tickling your skin as he can't wait and just cuts through your remaining clothes.

Clawed fingers grip your hair and tilt your head back, exposing your throat to sharp fangs and you submit easily, trusting him not to hurt you too much. Low sounds rumble in your throat as Price marks you, biting one spot until it bleeds your mana rich blood, greedily drinking up the crimson droplets and soothing the wound with his tongue just enough for the sting to become pleasant before biting again. Bite, lick, bite, lick, bite, lick— chest rumbling with satisfaction he pulls away, "Oh, look at you," He growls, your throat turned into a warzone, "So handsome, like a charming knight."

You snort and grip his hips, the water of the shower raining down the two of you. "Yeah?" You ask as you turn him around, pushing his chest against the wall as you drop to your knees. "Gonna let me lay you?" You ask, kissing down his spine, your rough hands groping and fondling his ass.

"Wanker," Price growls and lifts his tail, revealing his hole to you. You almost cum on the spot from the sight of it, looking every bit what you'd imagined he'd look like. But you don't get to look for long before his tail wraps around your throat, soft underbelly scales scraping against your bruised throat as he pulls you closer. "Only, if you prove your worth."

You don't need a formal invitation, pushing your tongue out as you slobber all over his hole, your hands keeping his asscheeks spread so you can worm your tongue into his hole, feeling him clench around your tongue, his moans ringing like angel song in your ears. His claws tangle in your hair, pushing your head even closer to worship him better. And you do, like a pious believer you lick and suck and nibble around his hole, your nose buried in the space between his ass and tail, barely able to breathe but it's a small price to pay.

Finally he grows greedy for more, his tail releases a fraction and he shoves you, making you fall back on your ass, your cock standing like a flagpole. You only manage to rise up on your elbows before Price jumps on you like the beast he is, thigh powerful thighs bracketing your own, his clawed fingers scraping against your skin as they settle on your shoudlers.

"Now then," Price rumbles like an ancient mountain, reptilian eyes hooded with lust. He feels on top of the world with the way you look at him, like a desperate mutt, your cock hard like a rock between his legs. "Stay still, mighty knight, an-" Price lifts himself up, positioning your cockhead at his puckered rim. "-relax."

The running water muffles your combined groans, his walls hot and tight like the fire in his chest. His weight bears down on you, wing stretching out in a show of pleasure, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he pants. "Fuck," Price growls, grinding his hips down into yours. "Feel so good, lad."

You grunt, your hands fitting on his hips like they always belonged there. Magic sparks across your arms as pleasure steadily erases your ability to think, but his thick scales keep him safe, a pleased groan leaving his chest as he starts bouncing on you, chasing his own pleasure. You can do nothing but hang on, your hips rising to meet his downward thrust, Price's lips swallowing your moans. You don't have enough sense in your head left to care if anyone was to come in and see you, your mind fully consumed by him.

You cum way too soon, your orgasm sneaking up to you, lightning rushing down your spine and magic sparking across your arms as your brain leaks out of your ears, shooting cum up into his greedy walls.

"Good- good lad." Price grinds his teeth, never stopping his bouncing, lewd sounds ringing through the showers from the way your cum squelches inside him. He rides you past the sting of overstimulation right back to hardness. His hand grabs yours, placing it over the scars on his abdomen where your magic had stitched him back together, greed and lust fueling his desires. "Protected me so good, yeah?" His hips never cease moving, that draconic endurance coming in handy to absolutely wrecking you. "Let me take care of you,"

And like a proper mate, you let him do as he pleases.

[beautifulblooms]

this doesnt have to be a separate request from the anon one i sent like 12 hours ago but you're welcome to make it one if you already have plans but: may i please have polyam soap, ghost, & male reader in which ghost is subjected to soap being a licker and reader being a biter. like this man cannot show a cm of skin or else it is at immediate risk of being put into Boyfriend Mouth :]

Nom Nom - Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Male! Sergeant! Reader

I have no words to explain this, this is pure crack and fluff, enjoy your little crack fics Eddieverse and was combined by this request you sent on anon

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

So everyone knows that Ghost is always covering himself head to toe, both on and off the field

Most people just assume it’s cause he prefers it or he likes to be ready for missions

They’re half right

The other fucking reason is both his boyfriends are mongrels

Soap has this unconscious desire to lick people he’s close to, and Simon and (y/n) are subjected to it

However, (y/n) is a biter, not like an affectionate nom or something

But has left many marks on Simon and Johnny because of it

He doesn’t bite hard enough to draw blood or break the skin, he’s careful of that, but still, any skin on his boyfriends and he just nom nom

Both of these combined have led Simon to keep himself almost entirely covered on and off the field

He might not wear the mask as much (the skull bit, he definitely still wears the balaclava) but it’s hard to find him without a long-sleeve shirt or hoodie, and full-length pants no matter how hot it is

“Johnny for fucks sake!” Hearing Simon yell that, most people in the base were already aware enough of the lieutenant was yelling at one of his sergeant-boyfriends for things only they could get away with. While Johnny was being chased around the barracks for lifting up the back of Simon’s balaclava and licking his neck, their other boyfriend, (y/n), was laughing hysterically in their shared room. Johnny made it into their room and hid behind (y/n) on the bed as Simon made it to the door of their room and crossed his arms, glaring at Johnny as he clung to (y/n) for protection. “So I take it he licked you again?” (y/n) had the smallest smirk as he looked between the sergeant clinging to him and the lieutenant standing in the doorway. “He did, and now he’s gonna pay for it” Simon walked into the room and pulled Johnny off of (y/n) as he was yelling and begging for mercy, despite laughing the whole time as Simon held him down and put him into a chokehold. (y/n) was far too used to this sight to say much, but instead moved behind Simon and lifted the back of his balaclava before biting his neck, dropping the fabric back into place, and sprinting out of the room. “Oh come on!” Simon yelled after being bitten by his boyfriend but was smiling behind his mask as he continued to keep Johnny in a headlock for the next few minutes before running to go find (y/n)...he loved the two of them but by god did they test his patience.

[flowerandblood]

The sweetest fruit (2)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Valyrian! • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, sexual tension ]

[description: (Anon Request) Aemond is to meet his future wife from Essos, in whose veins runs the blood of Old Valyria. They’ve been engaged since they were kids, but he’s in no hurry to get married and he’s not happy about her arrival. His future wife, however, turns out to be someone completely different than he expected. Smut, angst and a lot of sexual tension.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After what they had done, he couldn't sleep. He turned his back to her and tried not to look at her. Not to think about the smell of peaches that wafted throughout his chamber. Her scent which he still felt in his nose after licking all of her juices. He pressed his lips together, feeling himself hard again.

He thought, shocked, that he felt remorse. He assured Alys with certainty that his wife would only be the mother of his children in his life, but not a lover.

Not the way she was.

It hadn't occurred to him at the time that it would take his future wife one evening to seduce him. Worse, he could barely keep himself from turning to her and fucking her. He couldn't believe that his future wife just an hour ago had his manhood in her mouth, making him come so hard that he lost touch with reality for a moment.

He shuddered at the memory of her lips, her tongue, that wonderful, peach-tasting tongue of goodness. His cock throbbed in his trousers again. He rolled over, swallowing softly.

"You can not sleep?" He heard her soft, subtle voice behind him. He cleared his throat quietly, not turning to face her. He didn't answer her.

He heard the soft rustling of sheets behind him. His manhood throbbed painfully as he felt her lay down behind him, her soft breasts against his back, her hand cupping his chest, her nose buried in the nape of his neck.

He pursed his lips, swallowing loudly. He was completely hard now. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't throw her out the door. In fact, he didn't even want her to leave.

He propped himself up slightly on one elbow, turning to face her, meeting her puzzled, sleepy gaze. She looked at him gently, her nightgown falling off one shoulder, revealing her bare skin to him, her hair messed around her. She didn't look like his future wife, he thought.

She looked like his mistress.

"Turn your back to me." He whispered. She blinked in surprise, rubbing her eyes. She didn't question his request, meekly doing what he asked. He saw the outline of her crooked hips, her warm, soft thighs. He swallowed hard as he thought about what he wanted to do.

He lay down behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, so she could feel how hard he was. He heard her gasp suddenly, her buttocks pressing against him at once, causing him to groan helplessly. His hands involuntarily lifted her nightgown higher, exposing her naked thighs and hips to him. They both started breathing heavily.

One of his hands caught her jaw. He ran his nose over her cheek, inwardly marveling at her scent, the softness of her skin. He felt her eyes closed, her lips parted deliciously in silent anticipation.

His other hand tentatively squeezed her breast, testing how firm and soft she was. He massaged her with his hand, teasing her nipple with his thumb, felt it harden under his touch. Her soft, sweet groan answered him.

He smirked to himself, continuing to caress her, his cock hidden in his pants rubbing unhurriedly against her naked buttocks. His hand slid from her breasts to her thigh, rubbing it lightly. She let out a soft, satisfied purr and lifted her thigh slightly.

"Good girl" He whispered in her ear. He felt a shiver run down her spine as his fingers slid between her thighs, finding the moisture dripping from her.

She moaned softly as his fingers began to slowly massage her swollen pearl, smearing her juices. He locked her in his arms, not allowing her to move, not wanting to let her take control. He felt that it made her even more aroused. His member pulsed impatiently, pressing against her bare buttocks.

"Is it always so easy to make you wet?" He asked, amused, running his nose over her ear, feeling her brush against his hand. He heard her swallow hard.

"Is it always so easy to make you hard?" She answered the question with a question, licking her lips, smiling broadly.

His hand tightened on her jaw, tilting her head back to him, so that his lips were against her cheek. His fingers began to massage her more intensely, he felt her juices running down his fingers, his movements accompanied by a soft, wet, sticky click.

"Gods, put him in me already" She mumbled helplessly, her condition delighting him. Her hips starting to move, pressing against his lenght, rubbing against his hand. They moved faster and faster, panting, both knowing there was no turning back.

He heard her moan loudly as she felt him pull his trousers down, his manhood hitting her buttocks with a slap. She wanted to turn to him, but he wouldn't let her, grabbing her thigh, parting it more.

"No. We'll do it in this position. So that I can touch your whole body." He purred, as his lenght slid between her thighs, rubbing against her wet, throbbing womanhood, getting wet with her juices.

"Please, please, make me feel good" She mumbled, throwing her head back, he could feel her trembling in front of him with excitement, beads of sweat running down her body. A thrill of pleasure ran through him at her words.

"I'll make you feel good and I'll cum inside you. Would you like that?" He asked teasingly, whispering into her ear, running his tongue over her cheek, leaving wet traces on her skin.

"Yes" She whispered with delight in her voice.

He felt her hand slide down, her fingers parting her entrance for him. He exhaled loudly in pleasure feeling it, guiding the tip of his wet memeber to her entrance with his hand.

He slid into her lightly, feeling the fleshy, moist structure of her hot inside. They both moaned loudly at the wonderful sensation. He pressed his face against her hair, panting helplessly.

He slid deeper into her, sinking into her body, pushing apart her tight, throbbing muscles, pressing against him deliciously from every side. He slid out of her, then slid back in, entering her all the way, making them both shiver, panting and moaning loudly.

"Gods, you're so big" She whispered, making him shiver all over. He thrust into her harder, moving in and out of her, her juices sticking them all between their thighs. He smirked at her words.

"It's your fault. You're the reason my cock is so fucking hard." He hissed into her ear, panting with her, feeling his whole body quiver with pleasure every time he thrusted his member back into her tight, wet, hot insides. He heard her lips part in pleasure.

"I made you so hard by lying next to you, my prince?" She asked in amusement, panting heavily, his motions driving her insane. He was filling her wonderfully, teasing a point inside her that was building delicious tension in her lower abdomen.

"How can I not be hard after what you did to me? Gods, you're made to be fucked, aren't you?" He gasped helplessly, pressing her tighter against him, fucking her like a common whore. She moaned loudly at his words.

Unable to contain their bodies, they began to move quickly, their hips responding to each other in an intense, burtal rhythm. His lenght penetrated her with a wet, sticky slap, every time his hips hit her buttocks.

He squeezed his eye shut as he sped up, fucking her with all his strenght, panting loudly with her. He felt that a few more thrusts and he would experience the longed-for relief. All he wanted now was to cum inside her wonderful hot, wet core.

His hand returned to her clit, rubbing it again in circular motions, teasing her with his thumb once in a while. Her whole body tensed, she rested her hand on the arm of the bed above her, feeling her approaching orgasm.

"G-gods, I'm gonna come, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!" She moaned helplessly and pursed her lips, arching her back. She came hard against his engorged manhood, her core throbbing against him, wanting to hold him in.

"Just like that, fuck, yes" He groaned loudly, surprised by the pleasure that her orgasm gave him and thrusted into her few more times.

He came hard inside her, panting heavily, burying his face in her hair, his cum spilling all over her insides. He throbbed in her for a moment longer, unable to calm down.

"Fuck..." He gasped helplessly, feeling relieved at last.

They both tried to steady their breathing, as they lay with their eyes closed. After what felt like hours, he tried to pull out of her, but her hand stopped him.

"No. I want to fall asleep feeling you inside me." She whispered.

He shivered at her words, his member throbbing hard inside her again. She must have felt it, because she smiled slightly, taking his hands in hers. She wrapped them around her, resting her head comfortably on his pillow.

Helpless against her charm he surrendered to her completely, wrapping her body against him from behind, pressing his nose against her hair. Not even a few minutes passed and he fell asleep in a strong, peaceful, deep sleep.

He was awakened by the singing of birds. He looked around, feeling something was missing. He saw, that he was lying alone. He thought, both relieved and disappointed, that he had only dreamed it all. He ran a hand over his face, swallowing hard. He felt thirsty.

He got out of bed, headed for the table with the jug of water, and saw that something was on the floor. He felt his chest tighten as he saw the half-eaten peach lying in front of him.

***

Lady Vhassar was eating breakfast in her chamber in a wonderful mood. She hadn't thought her first night in Westeros would be so successful. Not only did her future husband satisfy her twice, but he also seemed to have trouble resisting her after just one night. She thought with amusement that in his eyes she was now his lover. She took a piece of date into her mouth, chewing it deliberately.

He put his manhood out of her at night only then when they both wanted to change positions. He hugged her in his sleep, keeping her close to him. They woke up once in a while, surprised by their presence. Then they searched involuntarily for each other's lips in the darkness, starting to kiss each other lazily, all sleepy, falling asleep again soon after.

She awoke before dawn, snuggled into his chest. His face was turned towards the window, his arm clasped loosely around her. She thought, looking at him, that she wouldn't mind if this was their everyday life. Nevertheless, she knew that wanting was one thing and feeling was another.

She slid out of his arm gently, trying not to wake him. She knew that the servants were probably already up, and she had to leave as soon as possible. She decided that his mother, who was completely devoted to their Seven Gods, would not be pleased with her visit to her son at night.

She slid off his bed and felt, shuddering, her juices mixed with his semen run down her thigh. She pursed her lips at the memory of how his manhood filled her wonderfully to the brim, throbbing inside her. She covered herself with a fabric that lay on one of his armchair, probably a simple throw.

She opened the large wooden door silently, leaning out uncertainly. She saw a maid running somewhere fast and several guards walking down the hall on the other side. She left his room as if nothing had happened and moved quickly forward, trying to remember the way to her room. In the morning everything looked different than at night.

Finally she came upon a servant, his eyes lowered in embarrassment at the sight of her. She lied that she had gone out for a walk around the palace, hoping no one would notice her in the morning, and she got lost. The boy nodded and led her to her room.

When she entered her chamber, she threw herself on her bed, tired and excited at the same time. So far, she thought that her plan was going perfectly well. She decided that she needed regeneration to continue playing well and just fell asleep. She was awakened only by her servant, who said that after breakfast the queen's daughter wanted to go for a walk with her.

After a short but nourishing breakfast, her maid, Namyss, entered her chamber, bowing with a smile. As usual, she came to help her get dressed. She was her most faithful confidante, she had been following the prince the night before for her. She walked over to her Lady, smiling softly, taking her hair in her fingers.

"How was your night, my Lady? Your cheeks are as pink as raspberries." She said sweetly, looking at their reflection in the mirror. Lady Vhassar couldn't hide her satisfied smile.

"My future husband is like a sweet, juicy, hard apple. I spent the night in his bed." She said low, her lips pursed in delight at the memory. Her servant looked at her knowingly.

"What about his other woman?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, braiding some of her hair at the back of her head. Lady Vhassar smiled to herself as she looked to the side.

"I'm sure he'll want to fly to her, filled with remorse. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't even do it today." She said thoughtfully. They exchanged amused glances.

"Will you do something about it, my Lady?" Namyss asked, smiling from the corner of her mouth. She knew that her beloved Lady was a persistent player. Lady Vhassar smiled, as she reached for the bowl of strawberries on the table in front of her.

"I'll give him a choice."

***

It's been a long time since he had such a problem to focus on training. Criston hit him hard and he dodged well, but he couldn't block his strikes enough to land a blow to him. Frustrated, after one of the clashes, he ran the blade across the ground, scattering sand around him. Criston looked at him expectantly.

"Something bothering you, my prince? Are you worried about your future marriage?" He asked, panting heavily from the effort, as he ran his fingers through his hair. He walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's normal."

Aemond ran his tongue over his lips, glancing to the side impatiently. He thought he had no idea what was going on in his head. He couldn't stop thinking about what he had done to her.

His chest tightened at the thought of how wonderful it felt to fuck her.

He swallowed hard, feeling that he had betrayed Alys. He felt torn, because on the other hand he knew that he shouldn't feel remorse if she was going to be his wife. He felt a cold sweat at the question he had been asking himself all morning.

If his wife could give him more than he ever wanted, did he need a mistress at all?

He never thought about whether he loved Alys. She was much older than him, weaving her web around him for a long time until he finally gave in to her, lost and alone. She soothed his nerves and satisfied his needs. But in the end it was his future wife who came to him with her sweet fruit and knocked him to his knees with an ease that startled him.

He wiped the sweat from his face and nodded to Criston that he was ready for another duel, when he saw that his sister and his future wife were standing between the cloisters. They were watching them, talking to each other. Lady Vhassar wore a transparent, light blue dress, delicate and airy. She looked like a forest nymph in it, her gaze piercing right through him.

Criston lunged at him, hitting hard from above. He blocked his strike with his sword, with a loud clang of steel as he spun around, quickly blocking another strike from the side. Their blades whizzed through the air, clashing loudly, causing people walking around them to stop to look. Finally, Aemond deflected his blow, spun around, and pressed the blade against his neck. Several people around them applauded in admiration.

Criston nodded appreciatively, looked away and bowed as he saw Helaena and her companion in the crowd of people.

"My princess. My Lady." He said softly and smiled sincerely. "Did you go for a walk together?"

"Yes." Helaena said, grabbing Lady Vhassar's arm. They looked at each other with a smile. "I wish my brother's future wife to be my closest friend."

Aemond swallowed hard, looking down. He couldn't look at her. He flinched, when he heard her voice.

"You fight splendidly, my prince." Said his future wife, looking at him graciously, her gaze expressing satisfaction.

He looked at her, pursed his lips. He felt the memory of her smell in his nose, tasted peaches on his tongue. A shudder ran through him.

"Thank you, my lady." He said gently. Healena watched them curiously.

"Ser Cirston, let me kidnap my brother for a while. I think he should finally get to know his future wife better." She said delighted with the idea. Aemond looked at her horrified. Lady Vhassar pursed her lips in amusement at his expression.

Ser Criston nodded, apparently deciding that was what the prince needed. They were finishing their training anyway, so he bowed and said that he wished them a nice walk.

Aemond knew he couldn't get away, so he reluctantly followed them toward the gardens. They walked a bit, completely apart. Finally, his sister let go of her arm and looked at them meaningfully.

"I'll go pray. I'll be back soon." She said softly, smiling broadly, and after a while they were alone. Lady Vhassar did not look at him, watching the trees growing around them. She went to one of them and plucked a ripe, purple plum from it.

She rubbed it in her hand and bit into its flesh, closing her eyes for a moment. She swallowed her bite and looked at him, her eyes full of something he couldn't even describe. He swallowed hard, looking away.

"You will fly to her, won't you? Tonight." She asked softly, looking at him curiously, biting into the fruit again.

He looked at her shocked. He really wanted to do that, to look at Alys again and find out how he felt about her at all, what to do next. He wondered if the lie made sense.

"Yes." He said quietly, ashamed.

His future wife approached him slowly, sucking her lips, opening them at last so that they gleamed wonderfully in the sun, swollen and full, like the flesh of the fruit she ate.

He thought he wanted to bite into her.

"Are you only staying there for one night? I want to know how long I can enjoy myself while you're away." She asked lightly, continuing to eat. She tried not to smile, as she saw his face harden, his gaze darkening. She thought he had a similar expression when he untied his pants for her that night.

"What do you mean?" He asked carefully, a note of menace lurking in his voice. She raised an eyebrow at his question.

"If you think that only one of us will enjoy this night, you are wrong." She whispered sweetly as she took the last bite of her plum, tossing the pit into the grass and turning away from him, wanting to go the other way.

She sucked in a quick breath as he grabbed her arm violently, turning her around, his other hand grabbing her jaw brutally. Their faces were millimeters apart. He was breathing uneasily, his nostrils flaring in rage, his mouth and cheeks tense all over.

Powerless, as if drawn by some powerful force unknown to him, he bent over her. He fought with himself for a moment, then slipped his tongue between her slightly parted lips and deep into her throat, tasting the delicious plum flavor. She moaned softly, the tip of her tongue licking him fiercely, teasing him.

They began to lick each other with perverted, wet, sticky click, panting into each other's mouths, tangling their hands in each other's hair. He pulled her to him violently and bit into her mouth as if he wanted to devour her, panting with her, squeezing her soft flesh in his hands, feeling her heat under his fingertips. If he could, he would have thrown her into the soft grass, lifted the fabric of her dress, and entered her, hot, tight, and wet.

He pulled away from her, tilting her head back, holding her hair tightly. Her lips were swollen and red from sucking and caressing, moist and shiny. She looked at him with a hazy look, he knew she was definitely wet between her thighs by now.

"If I stop seeing her, will you stop taking other men to bed too?" He asked coldly, panting heavily, anger and lust running through his veins. Her lips parted sweetly, her eyes staring at him with an intensity he had never seen in his life.

"…Yes."

_____

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[kombuuuu]

He groans, the wet sound suddenly turning into a loud hiss, followed by deep breathing and a *thud*, as if something had landed in some sort of thick liquid. Miguel speaks, but his voice is more hoarse than before. “I just.. I-“ There is another hiss, followed by a sharp, high whine that Miguel tries to speak through. “I really need to talk to you *mi amor..* Just talk, you know?”

i can work with this anon.

—

“Miguel.. I can’t—,” You stuttered, tripping over your feet as you stumbled back. His left hand was gripping his chest, wet gasps breaching his blood stained lips.

“I can’t do this anymore!”

He stumbled against the alley wall, right hand dragging to steady himself, a slight limp in his walk.

“C’mon, baby please. Just—,” He begged you, closer now. Your feet had stopped moving, breath held. You wanted to run, to get away from him. This man was dangerous.

“,—Listen, yeah? Just listen, please Mi Cielito.”

He reached towards you with bloodied fingers, wet hands grasping your face. Smearing your smoothened skin in another man’s blood.

You closed your eyes and near sobbed. A heavy feeling in your chest as your squinted your eyes shut, not wanting to face the monster before you. Because you knew he’d be so so pretty.

“Mirame.”

You couldn’t, you couldn’t do it.

“[Name],” He whimpered your name and the sound that followed could’ve been mistaken if not for the thick smog of iron filling your lungs.

“,Open your eyes, baby.”

You listened, the pure sight of him — haloed in red light, bathing in its colour like it coated his very being. Like the very shade was fine tuned to compliment his warm skin.

“I can’t going like this, Miguel.”

“You can’t—,” He mumbled, eyes rolling back at the pain before he grunted and righted himself, hand sliding from your face down your arms and onto your hips, using you as leverage against gravity.

He was basically crowing onto you, whining and crying at the prospect of you leaving, and the slash across his chest.

“,..Won’t leave me.”

“I’m trying—,”

“You won’t.” His voice was former now, eyes glowering down at you while his claws gripped your hips gently. A firm hold but never pressing hard, never testing the limits. He’d never give you a reason to leave.

His head dipped lower, and his left claws drew to the buttons of your shirt, toying with them just enough for them to almost snap.

“Treat you s’ well, you gonna leave?” He dropped his forehead onto your shoulder. Right hand hooking into the waist band of your pants. Your breath escaped you and you stuttered out a solemn reply.

“You scare me.”

He groaned, hands twitching and leaning even further into you. You couldn’t see, but a dopey smile graced his pain-worn face.

“I’d kill worlds for you. Universes.”

And he wasn’t lying, he’d lay a deathbed to anyone who so hurt you. Destroying entire worlds just to keep you within arms reach. You wanted to hate him for it.

Fear overrun you like silence overrun the streets, quiet for lack of people. Too late in the night for anyone to see his invasive form carved over yours.

Miguel smiled against your shoulder, canines dragging against the junction between your neck and shoulder. He grazed his fangs just to a scrape, letting your blood prickle at your skin before licking it clean, relishing in your stuttered breath and sudden shivering.

He shifted, a soft cry of pain leaving his lips once more before he slumped. Near dead weight on top of you, you struggled to hold him up while he was almost passed out.

Your apartment was right there, what once an escape, now a return. You could help him there.

You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t even have thought about it. But you had, and now the thought won't leave your head.

"Please, Mi Sol."

He stays in your bed, curling up against you. Still smelling like copper and him. You love it and he's hurting you.

You cry when patching him up, knowing this would happen.

And it had, like it had every other time.

[vibratingskull]

Hello!!!! Hopefully this witn come off as annoying (idk when you posted the tranw stranded fic btw because Tumblr won't show me-)

But- I beg you, if it's okey, could you please write part 3 of what happens after they're rescued 😭😭??? You don't have to if you don't want to! But my heart it just- AHHHH

😭😭😭

I love it, I screamed, 😭😭

Idk how to end this 😭

It is not annoying at all dear anon, it is in fact flattering that you liked this silly story to desire it to continue! 🤗🤗🤗

Part 1 - Part 2

ThrawnxF!reader

Tags : Angst/hurt, abandonment, medical examination, semi-descriptive birth

“Your blood pressure is good and the blood test came back correct.” The droid says, praising you with its weird chanting voice.

The droid takes the blood pressure monitor off your arm as you remain silent, eyes focused on the ceiling. 

“We will do an ultrasound.” The medic comes to you, their datapad in hand.

Another medical examination…

Since you all embarked on Thrawn’s ISD, the Chimaera, Thrawn's first order of business was putting you and Thaishi in the medical bay, subjecting you to numerous medical examinations.

Clearly he didn’t trust in the Frog people medicine a lot, and now that you had access to modern medicine again he immediately forced you two to run a battery of tests. Blood tests, shots, weighting, fetal heart rates, glucose tests, ultrasounds, scanners... The whole nine yards.

Thaishi was absolutely terrified. She never saw any droids, never saw the white blouses of the medics, never got any shots, never saw all of this machinery beeping all around and she was thrown in this white sterile room suddenly, getting stripped down to have nodes of a cardiac monitor on her little chest, getting manipulated all around to get her vitals checked. You would have run to her to console her if you weren’t plugged in to so many monitors yourself! But Thrawn stepped in, entering the bay after his long shift he immediately got to embrace and comfort her, hugging her on his laps when she gots her shots. The little sweetheart never saw a medical needle before, even less have it piercing her skin. She cried and whined with big tears on her cheeks, begging her father to not let the droids or the weird humans touch her. 

Thrawn cradled her, soothed her patiently with his deep melodious voice, singing her a Cheuhn lullaby to dry her tears and took care to explain to her in detail every medical procedure that was happening for her to understand and calm down. He remained with her during the end of her examination, holding her little hand or keeping her on his lap.

Unfamiliar with Chiss vitals, the medics compiled every data and asked Thrawn’s opinion on the results, making sure Thaishi was healthy and wasn’t at risk with the new germs her organism never encountered before. 

The results were very comforting, she was strong and healthy, only a very mild-case of flu resulting from the encounter of the human germs, but her antibodies were already at work. The shots would do the rest.

So tired from having screamed and cried so much, Thaishi fell asleep in Thrawn’s arms, hugging him tightly, so he came to you with her in his arms, caressing her back tenderly. You were still examined, laying on the sterile bed. He took and squeezed your hand, sitting down next to you, listening to your own results.

The baby seemed healthy, they grew very well, maybe just a heartbeat a little weaker than the norm, but nothing alarming said the medic. After listing everything up, the medic put on their most magnificent brown noser smile and asked.

“So, do you want to know the gender?”

You looked into Thrawn’s eyes and shrugged. He nodded, understanding.

“We will keep the surprise.” He announced.

“Oh… Okay…” The medic responded, disappointed to not be the one bringing good news to their Grand Admiral.

Once an Empire’s dog, always an Empire’s dog…

“ Lady (Y/n) needs peace and quiet.” The chief medic said, looking darkly at his intern to keep them moving.

Thrawn nodded again, careful of your and your baby’s health. He remained with you for half an hour, squeezing your hand, caressing your forehead, kissing your cheek and speaking sweet nothing to you.

But you didn’t let yourself get charmed.

You knew very well where that attitude came from.

Soon…

Soon they will come to take your children away and Thrawn will let you go, leaving you to go back to the Rebellion and resume war between you two.

And your family will definitely disappear, torn apart across the universe.

You looked straight into his carmine eyes, with a harsh gaze, trying to convey your strong will.

You still haven't forgiven him.

He only looked at you back with even more tenderness and his caress became even more softer, his thumb caressing your cheek tenderly.

“Do not look at me like that.” He invited softly, “You stab my heart.”

“You know very well what you did!” You retorted lowly but harshly to not wake up Thaishi.

“I know Ch’acah. But I needed to come back.”

You only frowned and remained silent, too tired to start an argument.

“The medics told me the baby was healthy.” He continues with his soft melodious voice, “You take such good care of them, thank you.”

“The village’s healer helped a lot.” You recalled him.

“We have true medicine now. My team will take over, do not worry about anything.”

“I was not worried back at the village!” You retorted. “Everything went well for Thaishi!”

“Here nothing will escape us.” He closed the matter. “Sleep, Ch’acah. Build up your strength, the term is close.” 

He kissed your forehead a final time before going back to his shift, not before dropping Thaishi in her new bedroom for the night.

How many hours did he already spend on the Bridge? No matter because he was ready to go back on duty immediately.

You spend the evening alone, eating alone at the grand table of the Grand Admiral suite. The plates were rich and expensive, worthy of Thrawn’s standing, but it had no taste for you. You got to bed early,  only to turn and turn in the bed, never finding sleep. You pretended to be deeply asleep 5 hours later when Thrawn slid silently in the bedroom, sneaking under the covers to hug you tight like he used to…

And days let place to weeks, traveling through space towards the Empire’s territory. Closer and closer to the end of your life… Thrawn buries himself in his work, sparing little moments for you and your daughter, while you spend all your time with the Frog people like those four years of bliss, when your family was whole. You did not waste any time to be an annoyance to the Imperials, making their days difficult, loudly advocating for the community’s rights on the ship, negotiating more spaces on the Chimaera, more time in the enlisted mess hall, freedom to come and go anywhere you please on the ISD, so on and so forth… Even if you have to recognize, the treatment of the community was royal in contrast to what you feared.

But apparently welcoming and taking care of a Grand Admiral for four years gives some rights on his ISD. You’re not delusional, you know that if they were any other alien community they would have traveled in cells. But Thrawn  would have never accepted his hosts to be treated like animals… So overall the Frog people have nothing to complain about, really.

That doesn’t prevent you from fighting for more to stick it up to those imperials.

And to their horror, you being Thrawn’s wife give your words weight and power here. A thing that seems to piss off Commodore Faro immensely.

She knows she is walking a thin  line with you, you may be a civilian but you are her Grand Admiral wife, she knows that if she says no too much you will go straight to Thrawn. So she does her best to mediate any situations to the best of her abilities.

It’s a shame she is an Imperial, she could do so much good in the Rebellion with her talents! But you know recruiting your husband’s officers will be a big no no! So you let her be.

Until you have another complaint to scream everywhere in the Chimaera!

So you actually rarely let her be.

To her utmost annoyance.

“The baby is fine.” The medic calls you back to reality. 

You blink, turning your head to the screen to observe your baby. You see them agitating themself inside your belly, giving little kicks and punches around.

“Do you want to listen to their heartbeat?” They ask.

You nod, putting on the headphones to listen to the little drum, beating rhythmically and you refrain from a sob.

What a wonderful sound…

The most wonderful music you ever heard with Thaishi’s laugh. You caress your tummy with your eyes glued to the screen to observe your sweetheart. The heartbeat is indeed weak, but you can feel it beat through your veins!

Your baby is determined to come into the world and meet you.

You know it!

“Can I get an ultrasound image?” You ask, trying to keep your voice stable. 

“I will send it immediately to the Grand Admiral.” The medic accepts.

You greet your teeth. You wanted the image for yourself, and share it with Thrawn later down the day. But they all tend to bypass you, only taking Thrawn’s desire and orders into account despite your pleas. ‘Are you sure the Grand Admiral would want this?’,’Grand Admiral Thrawn would never accept that!’, ‘I will ask Grand Admiral Thrawn’s opinion.’ and so on and so forth…

To them you may be their Grand Admiral wife but you’re also a lowly rebel and they have no qualms letting you know.

“We didn’t detect anything abnormal.” The medic announces, “You simply have a light iron deficiency. A slight change in your diet should mend your vertigo, no need to worry.”

“I am not worried.” You clap back, “Thrawn pushes me to come to the med bay at any signs of light weakness.”

“The Grand Admiral” He corrects, “... Simply wants to be sure his baby is healthy.”

You don’t like the emphasis on ‘his’.

“Well I know Our baby well, I knew nothing was wrong.” You retort.

You look black in each other's eyes in silence. 

Now you’re both pissed off.

“The images.” You order.

They sigh and shake their head.

“Right away…”

------------------------------------------

You stir your food with your fork.

This isn’t really good.

You lay down your fork and slouch on your seat, observing the mess hall reserved to the enlisted and ensign. There aren't a lot of people at this hour which is both a blessing and a curse. With so few people there are not many people to shoot you down with their gaze but you also cannot feel the lively and busy activity of a community, which is why you came here in the first place.

The frog people are not here anymore.

They have been disembarked on a planet of their choosing. You lost friends when Thaishi lost everything she ever knew. She hugged Lei really hard, refusing to let her go, her mother and you had to separate them. They both cried, refusing to say goodbye to their bestfriend. The Chiefs saluted you and Thrawn, thankful for letting them pursue their goal and having the opportunity to fly freely in the universe once again after a millenia. They shared a respectful handshake with Thrawn and pulled you into a hug, congratulating you again for Thaishi and the baby, promising to keep you in their hearts.

You would lie if you said you didn’t shed a tear as you saw them disappear on the planet surface, getting smaller and smaller as the Chimaera was flying away in space. Thaishi cried her eyes out and you had all the pain in the world to calm her down, hugging and cradling her.

You felt how the tension in the Chimaera’s crew suddenly lifted like a fog disappearing. 

Finally the weird alien community wasn't here to soil their precious Imperial ISD anymore!

You used to eat with them at noon in the enlisted mess hall, and now you’re all alone.

Without any friends and community on a ship with a crew that hates you, a busy husband and a dependant 4 year old child.

Busy… To not say outright absent.

Since you came inside the ISD Thrawn is consistently on the Bridge for long, long shifts. You only see him at noon one day out of 5 and feel him enter the bed past 3 or 4 a.m to rise back at 6 or 7 am. You're not dumb, you know he buries himself in his work to not face the fact that his family will soon not be anymore.

It was his idea to send your children to the Ascendancy,  and while he knows it in his heart to be the best solution it doesn’t alleviate the pain for all that.

So he works.

And works.

And works.

To the point that you feel like a single mother.

You sigh, massaging your temples when Karyn Faro appears in the mess hall, pissed off, holding Thaishi, in tears, by the hand.

“Lady (Y/n)!” She shouts, for everyone to hear.

“Thaishi!” You raise on your foot, “What happened, sweetheart? I thought you were sleeping already.”

Faro lets your daughter go and she sprints into your arms, burying her head in the crook of your neck.

“Your daughter entered the bridge!” Faro lets you know harshly, “This is not the place for a child!”

“I just wanted to see daaaaaaaaad…” Her little voice breaks down in terrible sobs. “I miss him!”

You hug her tight and caress her back soothingly.

“I hope it won’t happen again.” Faro bites.

“Or what?” You clap back, “What will you do? Throw her in a cell? She is 4 and the daughter of your Grand Admiral!”

She frowns harder and her nostrils flare and for a second you expect her to explode and scream her rage in your face and for everyone present to witness.

But she inhales and recovers her calm, speaking with a deadly cold voice.

“The Grand Admiral himself is asking you to make sure this incident does not happen ever again.”

She lets that sink in and you take the stab in your heart.

You look into each other’s eyes, angry and gauging the other down.

“I will speak with him about that.” You let her know.

“Dot that. In the meantime, keep an eye on your daughter, she could hurt herself roaming around the Chimaera like that. So many corners are treacherous…”

“Are you threatening my child?” You demand, ready to claw her throat, not believing what you’re hearing.

“I simply do not want to discover your precious child bleeding out in the machine's room.” She simply responds with a false smile.

She stands to attention and leaves you in the middle of the mess hall with your child in a mess.

You sigh. What a bitch.

You carry your daughter the best you can with your heavy pregnant belly to lay her down in her bed. She stopped crying but sniffs and sighs, her red eyes still wet with tears.

“I don’t like it here, mom…”

“What are you saying? You have a large bedroom just for you, you always complained you wanted your own space back at the village!” You try to make her see the good sides of the situation.

There aren't many, you admit…

Thrawn placed her in the bedroom next to the Grand Admiral suite, and you know in your heart he meant well. Thaishi complained so much to not have a bedroom for herself he thought she would be happy like that. And back where Lei and the other kids were here she could accommodate herself seeing her father less, but now she feels truly alone.

She sniffs loudly as you tuck her in her large, maybe too large bed, holding on to the covers.

“I miss Lei and everyone! Can’t we go back and take them back?” She pleads.

“No sweety.” You try to soothe her, “They resumed their nomad life. We do not know where they are now and we ourselves are heading towards our new home.”

“I liked the village!” She complains, “I don’t understand why we have to live on a ship!”

You caress a strand of hair out of her face tenderly.

“I know sweetheart. But you’ll see, you will meet a lot of children there, you’ll make a lot of new friends, go to school with a lot of kids, start a new life. Isn't it exciting?”

“Nooooooo…” She whines. “I liked how it was… And I don’t see dad anymore!”

“Didn’t you see him on the bridge?” You ask.

“I was immediately stopped by the adults.” She explains, “I called for dad but he didn’t even turn to me.” And she broke down crying again.

You lay next to her and hug your child tight, letting her wet your shirt with tears.

“Mum, I want to go home…” She cries,” Everyone is so mean here…”

You kiss the top of her head tenderly, pressing her against your chest, against your beating heart.

You didn’t tell her.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that soon, once her sibling is born in less than three months, she will be sent away with them in the Ascendancy.

Never to see you or Thrawn again…

You start crying with her and you hug each other.

Mother and child alone in a cold bedroom on an hostile  imperial ISD, with the sole ending to be separated forever…

You end up sleeping with Thaishi in her bed, holding her tight in your arms. You don’t feel how someone comes inside the room to pull the covers back over Thaishi, kissing her cheek tenderly and lifting you up to carry you.

You wake up at the sensation of being cradled softly, only to meet white and a military plaque. You raise your head to see Thrawn, carrying you bridal style to your bedroom.

“Sleep, my sweet.” He softly orders, “You need to gather strength for the birth.”

“No.” You immediately step your food down, “No. We need to talk.”

He lowers his carmine gaze to you, but remains silent.

He enters the suite and heads towards the bedroom, only letting you go to lay you down your shared bed. As he rises back to go away you seize his arm immediately to force him to stay.

“No. You will not escape this conversation.” You warn.

He looks at your resolute gaze and sighs, sitting down on the edge of the bed, fixing the wall. You both remain silent for a moment, not knowing how to start. You get a quick glance to the alarm clock, informing you it was 4 am already.

“Thrawn…” You sigh.

“I know.” He simply says, “Believe me, I know.”

“You didn’t even turn to her?” You ask, flabbergasted. “She just wanted to see her dad.”

“I know, Ch’acah.” He admits, lowering his head lightly, “But I walk a thin line. I cannot let the most minuscule slip off happen.”

“She cried for two hours for Maker’s sake!” You start to feel ire raising in your blood.

“If I let them see anything, you three could get hurt.” He explains, “I am held at gunpoint, if I show any weakness towards any of you two they will devour us all. Thaishi and the baby included.”

“Another reason to defect.” You remark coldly.

“We already had this discussion, Ch’acah.” He patiently says.

“I know…” 

But that doesn’t mean you accepted the situation for all that! You can only see the good he could do if he joined the Rebellion, all the lives he could save and improve…

“I need the Empire’s resources.” He continues almost to himself, “Even if I have to make the sacrifice of myself.”

“Right now you are sacrificing your daughter. We barely saw you last month, you stopped eating with us, you come back to the bedroom when everyone is sleeping and rise back earlier than everyone else. I feel so… We both feel abandoned.” 

He lowers his head to fix his hands with intertwined fingers. He murmurs something so low you cannot hear it.

“What did you say?”

“I cannot face you both.” He repeats.

You look at the back of his head, how hunched over he is, how… fragile he seems at this very moment.

“The pain is too great.” He lets out in a breath, “Seeing you reminds me of what I will have to leave behind. Work helps me to forget, to not suffer for a few hours…”

“Is that why you take so many shifts? To avoid us?” You ask with a nicer tone.

“Yes.” He admits, raising his back straight, “I am a coward… It was my idea.”

“You’re not a coward.” You say softly, “But you are making a mistake, do not drive your daughter away from you. Thaishi needs her father to guide her, to love her.” You take his shoulder and squeeze it, “Please, do not turn your back on us…Thrawn, we need you as much as the Ascendancy needs you. Why can’t you see it?”

Thrawn turns to you to meet your gaze. You see so many emotions flashing in his carmine gaze despite his aloof expression.

“Do not reject us…” You beg.

He takes both of your hands to kiss your knuckles tenderly, reveling in your presence.

“I am sorry.” He finally says, “I indeed made a mistake. I put myself before the needs of Thaishi and the baby.”

“Stay with us tomorrow morning.” You propose, “Faro is competent enough for you to take half a day for yourself…” You squeeze his hands.

“Will you forgive me?” He asks, pleading with his eyes rather than his tone.

“Will you spare more time for Thaishi?” You ask.

“Yes. I will also accompany you to each of your medical appointments. I will spare you more time.”

You put your forehead against his, breathing deeply.

“Thank you…” You sigh.

His hand comes caressing your cheek delicately, tilting your head to capture your lips in an infinitely tender kiss. One since a long time ago… 

He kisses you lightly, like you could break at any moment and you respond, relieved to have your husband back.

At least for the three last months…

He leans forward to kiss your pregnant belly reverently, caressing it with his large palms, murmuring sweet nothing to your unborn baby.

“Hello you, I am back, sweet thing.”

You cannot help but smile, caressing his hair as he talks to your baby for long minutes. He finally rises to kiss you chastly.

“Sleep, cheo vir. It is terribly late.”

“Will you stay?” You demand, worried.

“Yes. I will.” He promises.

You nod lightly, satisfied for the moment. Thrawn helps you out to put on your pajamas, take off your shoes, gently massaging your sore foot. You sneak under the covers as Thrawn leaves the suite, promising to come back immediately.

He actually comes back with Thaishi, sleeping soundly in his arms and he lays her down next to you, kissing her forehead. You caress the tummy of your daughter as Thrawn takes his shower and comes into bed, Thaishi between you both.

He takes her delicately in his large arms and hugs her tight, a hug that she gives back eagerly despite being asleep. You stay awake a little more to admire this wonderful scene, father and daughter, hugging each other at last…

When morning comes you are relieved and pleased to see Thrawn sitting in bed, caressing Thaishi’s back softly as she sleeps still. You extend your arm and caress his cheek with your knuckles and he turns his head to you, a light smile coming to grace his lips as he sees you, eyes pouring love for you.

“Good morning, Ch’acah.”

“Hi you…” You smile back.

This moment is peaceful and tender, your whole family reunited.

But you both know.

It cannot last…

--------------------------------------------------

You groan, holding the low of your back. Your spine is crushed and your baby is kicking and punching relentlessly, preventing you from sleeping correctly for the last two weeks. 

Your term is not now, you still have two months to wait so your child just decided to get feisty with you. You remember how stressed you were with Thaishi, she kicked so little you started to fear she died in your womb. What a relief you felt when you heard her first scream.

Your baby may have a weaker heart but they appear determined to fight to live, and right now they’re fighting you.

You rise from your bed, in pain, feeling like you are about to wet yourself with how squeezed your bladder is. You walk slowly with very little step when you receive a formidable kick in the stomach.

“Ouch!” You groan, “You sure are full of energy, little one.” You laugh through the pain.

You enter the living room of the Grand Admiral suite to discover Thrawn trying to correct Thaishi's terrible table manners, and she seems too happy to give him a hard time now that she has his attention. They both turn to you, Thaishi with her mouth full, and greet you.

“Welcome, Ch’acah.” Thrawn immediately stands up to meet you, “Did you sleep well tonight?”

You sniff and purse your lips in response.

“No. Your baby keeps kicking me around.”

He presses his large palm on your stomach, circling your shoulders with his other arm. He smiles lightly as he feels a hit against his palm.

“They are so vigorous.” He notes, pleased, “They seem to be in a rush to be born.”

“You don’t say!” You huff, “They punch me all to their heart content.”

 He kisses your cheek with a low purr.

“I thank you for going through all of this for our family.” He praises you, “You amaze me everyday.”

You gulp discreetly. A family fated to disappear, sooner than later now… But you both keep the act before Thaishi, to preserve her. When she is not sleeping in your bed with the both of you, Thrawn is holding you all night long to comfort you and dry your tears. 

But you cannot cry in front of your daughter.

Thrawn wanted to tell her, but you formerly forbade him. You wanted for her to live as peacefully and fully as she could, without a ticking time bomb over her head and an imminent sense of doom. You just wanted her to live like any normal little girl.

“Thaishi, do not take such large bites” Thrawn chastises her, “You will choke yourself, little one.”

She looks at him defiantly, pushing another bite in her already full mouth, making her look like a hamster. Thrawn sits back in front of her to teach her while you serve yourself some caff. You groan again, folding forward when another kick comes punching your rib, cutting your breath.

“Are you alright, Ch’acah?” Thrawn asks, ready to jump into action.

You smile painfully, gesturing to him that this is nothing out of the ordinary as you come to sit to enjoy a breakfast with your little family.

Thrawn already filled your plate with your favorite, pushing it to you, intimating you to eat something. You wince, not hungry in the slightest with your stomach so squeezed.

“Be reasonable.” He says softly but firmly.

“Be reasonable, mum!” Thaishi repeats with her mouth full of brioche, “Be reasonable!”

You wrinkle your nose, but accept nibbling at your food to appease him. He took your plates away once you ate half of your portion, satisfied.

But if you had listened to yourself you wouldn’t have eaten a quarter of it.

“I must go.” Thrawn announces, putting on his white jacket, “Do you need help to dress first, Ch’acah?”

“Already?” You say, disappointed.

For the last month he took care to be more present in your life, staying as late as possible in the morning, putting Thaishi to bed himself even if it was in the middle of one of his shifts, helping you bathe or take a shower even after a full, long day of work and massaging your foot and shoulders before bed.

Faro holds you personally responsible for that, you could feel her shooting you with her glare furiously, but Thrawn was still the Grand Admiral of the ship, still efficient and hard working, never slipping off… So she has nothing against you, factually.

But today he wants to go way earlier than your new routine.

“This area is infested, I want to oversee any possible combat” He explains.

You immediately tense up.

Infested by who? The Rebellion?

You are ready to make a scene to prevent him from going to fight your comrades but he immediately understands your weird gaze.

“Pirates, Ch'acah.” He lightly smiles, “They are numerous in this part.”

You immediately relax.

“Oh… Okay. Good luck, love.” 

He leans forward to capture your lips in a surprising demanding kiss, you remain unresponsive for a moment, taken by surprise by such eagerness.

The birth is near, he is on edge as you are even if he hides it well.

“Urk…You are disgusting” Thaishi complains mockingly.

Thrawn and you both laugh at her reaction and he comes to kiss her cheek to say goodbye.She circles his neck with her arms and squeezes him tight.

Once he leaves the room, she immediately turns back to the table to take another bite, already throwing out what he was trying to teach her. So you lightly slap her hand away.

“No, young lady. Finish your plate first.”

She sticks her tongue out but finishes her plate nonetheless. You take a sip of your caff, observing your blue jewel in silence as she eats eagerly. She is growing and starving all the time, you have difficulty holding her in your arms now.

But not Thrawn.

He can still lift her and carry her like she weighs nothing. 

You remain still as you drink your cup, not showing how your baby is literally demolishing you from the inside, punching hard in your stomach. But when you have the guard of Thaishi you refuse to show your pain, you must be a strong mother for her.

But those kicks are really strong and… painful.

“What do you want to play this morning?” You ask her.

“I won’t have lessons today?” She asks with sparkling eyes.

You tuts, shaking your finger.

“Do not dream too much, young lady. You will do your homework as every other day, but today you can play a bit first.”

 She sighs in response but appreciates the prospect of games before lessons.

----------------------------------------------

You are in so much pain. It feels like a tool gripped your stomach and twisted it in knots before pulling on it like it was trying to rip it off of your body. You greet your teeth as you pretend to make your doll walk on the make believe doll house in the suite. Too lost in her game, Thaishi is fully focused on the figurines in her hands, mediating a negotiation between a client and a market gardener. 

You hold your stomach, breathing deeply through your nose. You ate something bad for sure.

“Mom?” Your jewel asks.

“It’s alright, sweety. Just dizziness, it will pass.” You smile through the pain, refocusing on the game of your little girl, you wouldn’t want to trample on the nascent romance between her dolls for anything in the universe!

Your doll is about to join the negotiation for some samara fruits when the entire Chimaera trembles suddenly and an alarm starts blaring out. Thaishi yelps in surprise and fear, losing her balance. You catch her in your arms and you hold each other tight.

“What’s going on?” She asks terrified.

“Pirates, most probably.” You answer calmly, trying to keep our own anxiety at bay.

“Are we… Are we going to die?” She raises her eyes round in fear up to you.

She never knew battles or war, and always lived a peaceful life in the village. You look into her eyes, flashing memories of your battles against Thrawn.

How he used to win with such talent and brio each time!

“No. No sweety.” You soothe her, “Your father is leading the battle. That means we are going to win.” You caress her back, pulling her on your lap.

“I am scared!” She whines, snuggling against your breast.

You hear people running in the attending corridor, the battle alarm still screaming in the loudspeakers. They are all rushing to battle.

“Thaishi, look at me.” You say authoritatively.

She looks up to you again with questions at the sudden change of tone, but listening carefully to you.

“Your father is the Grand Admiral Thrawn. Unbeaten and invincible.” You expose clearly.

She is way too young to know about all of that, no use to go into details, just enough to reassure her, “He is the tactical genius of this generation. There is no safer place in the Universe but his side. Do you understand me?”

You bite the inner of your cheek at how the humiliation you suffered at his hand, how many times you had to flee the battlefield to escape death and destruction. The long hours spent forming a new strategy that could take him by surprise.

To no avail.

Despite all your and your comrades efforts, Thrawn never showed any weakness in battle and wiped out all your attempts at assassination. 

If one could win no matter the odds, it is him.

“Do you understand me, Thaishi?”

She slowly nods, hugging you tighter. You smile comfortingly to her face soaked with tears and hug her.

“You have nothing to fear, my sweet. Your father is here to protect us.”

A light explodes outside of your bay window, a missile you determine, illuminating the bedroom harshly. You raise on your feet immediately to lower the blinds and protect your daughter from that spectacle but you don’t even take two steps you fall down on the ground, holding your stomach.

You’re in so much pain! You feel your blood boiling and flewing furiously in your spasming muscles.

What is going on?

“Mum? MUM?!” Thaishi runs to you.

You feel another contraction spasming your entire body and you gasp, all your air kicked out of your lungs.

“Mummy! Mummy!” She shouts, powerless, kneeling next to you.

She suddenly turns her head and jumps on her little feet and runs out of the room.

You’re in too much pain to just hear the battle outside or the commotion in the corridors. You bite your lower lips, drawing blood, curling over yourself pathetically on the carpet of the large bedroom when someone bursts inside the room.

You are suddenly being lifted up in the air and you cannot help a scream of pain in response. All your southern muscles are contracting and convulsing while you feel a wet and warm sensation spreading along your thighs, soiling your undergarment and dress.

Did your water…?

But it is too soon!

Way too soon!

The unknown officer, soldier or ensign is speeding in the corridors with you in their arms. Your baby had to come in the middle of a battle! 

When Thrawn is away.

They finally reach the med bay and enter without consideration for the other patient, shouting that the Grand Admiral’s wife was twisting in pain on the ground. You are being laid down on a bed as carefully as they can, a medic and a droid arriving at your side immediately.

“Her water broke.” The medic calmly says, “Let’s place her in the operation room.”

You wriggle on the mattress, each heartbeat getting more and more painful.

Your bed is pushed in a white, sterile room and someone transfuse you with something.

“Thrawn…” You gasp, “Where is Thrawn…”

“He is leading the battle, lady (F/n).” They coldly announce.

Where is everyone?

Why are you alone?

With Thaishi, Thrawn and all your friends were here to support you.

But today you are alone… In a cold room with droids and machines and imperials

Where did all of your life go?

You scream again as a new contraction stops all your thoughts. The medic chief enter the room, seemingly pissed off.

“What do you mean her water broke? The term is two months away!” He harshly announces.

“Labour started chief, she is fully dilated and the contractions get closer and closer.” Someone responds.

He hisses but takes his place as you wince in pain.

“Prepare an incubator! The baby is premature at 28 weeks, they will need intense care.” 

You close your eyes shut as a new wave of pain washes over you. 

“Thrawn! Where is Thrawn!” You demand.

“He cannot make it to you, lady (F/n). You will need to do it on your own.”

As to punctuate his words, the Chimaera is shaken again. The bed trembles, worsening your pain. You feel your sweat soaking your bed and dress.

It is so uncomfortable!

“Prepare everything, they may needs respiratory assistance, surfactant in an intubation tube. Their liver and kidneys aren’t formed yet. Keep an eye on the vitals and stand ready. Lady (F/n) you can push.”

“No! No, I want Thrawn!” You cry, “Where is he? He must be here!I can’t do it without-”

Someone slides their hands in yours and squeezes it tight and a female voice rises.

“He is fighting to keep us all alive. You must be strong and do it without him. We are all here to take care of your child, focus on your labor.”

You squeeze back her hand, the pain is so great the flashing white lights blind you completely, preventing you from seeing her face.

“We are all here for you right now!” She assesses.

You feel the tools pulling on your organs again, signaling you that you simply cannot wait for your husband to magically appear in the room and support you.

You’ll have to pass this trial alone.

So you start pushing, greeting your teeth and pressing her hand with yours with all your strength. You curse as the morphine is taking its sweet time to kick in, but you have no time! Your baby is coming now!

You scream as you push, feeling like your organs get tearing apparts in millions of shreds.

Maker, you forgot how hard it was…

You feel her circle your shoulders to help soothe you as you push.

“We have a head!” The medic announces, “Keep pushing, Lady. One last time!” 

You dig your nails in the metal bar you are holding and the soft hand of the woman supporting you and push hard!

“Come on!” She encourages?

You keep pushing and pushing, pain ravaging your inside.

Until you feel a mass passing through your inner muscles. And suddenly…

Silence.

No liberating scream of a baby.

Just dead… silence.

“Install the respiratory assistance and put them in the incubator, we must stabilize their temperature.” The chief orders around.

You feel dizzy and weak but still have the sense that something went wrong.

“My baby…” You moan, “Give me my baby…”

“They must go into intensive care immediately. Your job is to rest and prepare to take care of a premature baby.”

Your bust fall with a ‘oof’ on the bed, too tired to do anything anymore.

“Good job!” The woman congratulates you.

You turn your head lazily to her, and open your eyes round in surprise.

“Commodore Faro?” You ask, bewildered.

She nods in response.

“What are you doing here?” you ask at the end of your rope.

“I was running to the bridge when your daughter burst out the Suite in tears, screaming at the top of her lungs that you fell. I simply carried you here.” She explains.

You lose all your words.

She hates you.

Why would she do that? Why would she help you?

“But…” You shake your head, weak with the loss of blood.

“Grand Admiral Thrawn would have killed me if I turned my back on you at that moment.” She simply explains. “He could forgive me for not reaching the bridge for a battle, but not for me not helping you, especially when you are giving birth.”

“It… It doesn’t make any sense…” You insist.

“Because you’re weak and dizzy.” She finishes.

“Thaishi… Where is my daughter!?” You have a flash of clarity in your fogged mind.

“I ordered an officer to take care of her in the the Grand Admiral suite. She is well.”

“Go get her…” You order weakly, “She must be so worried I left her, my jewel… My daughter…”

She prevents you from trying to stand up, pushing you back gently against the bed.

“I’ll ring the officer, do not worry. I-”

She is shushed by the door opening.

Thrawn enters, immediately spotting you. He places himself at your side and takes your hand, caressing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Ch’acah. How are you?”

“Tired… The baby…”

“Is in intensive care, I know. I am sorry I was not here, my love. I failed you.”

“My baby…” You feel tears coming back, “They didn’t let me hold my baby… I want them in my arms…”

He presses his forehead against your, caressing your cheek tenderly.

“Be patient my love. The medics are taking care of them.”

He rises back up and turns to Faro. She stands to attention immediately.

“I thank you, Commodore Faro.” He ceremoniously says, “Thanks to you, my wife and baby are safe.”

“Of course, Grand Admiral.” She respectfully bows her head, “How did the battle go?”

“Very well. Some resistances that held on against us, but we rose on top.”

“As always with you, Grand Admiral. I will take my shift if you don’t need me anymore.”

“Of course, Commodore.”

They nod to each other and she leaves. Thrawn turns back to you and sits on the edge of the bed.

“Ch’acah.” he starts, “You must have been scared.”

You wipe your tears off, sniffing.

“I want my baby.” You insist weakly.

“I want to see them too.” He assures you gently but seriously, “But we cannot right now. Rest a little, it was a lot of emotions for you.”

“Stay with me!” You demand, afraid he would leave you now.

“Of course. I left the bridge to my officers and Faro will take command for now. I can remain with you.”

---------------------------------------------

Your eyes are fixed on your baby inside her incubator.

Your sweet little girl.

Your little warrior.

Nothing is yet won, so much could still go wrong. But she is taken care of. Thaishi is pressed to the incubator, observing her little sister intently, absolutely hypnotized by the blue baby sleeping soundly.

“Do not poke the incubator, sweety. Let your sister rest.” You say, laying in your bed.

You’re still in the med bay in a private room. You refused to sleep away from your premature baby. You wanted to be here at any signs of illness or bad reaction, to jump into action at any bad signs. Besides, you have been judged too weak to leave yet.

Thaishi stops poking and jumps in the bed to slide between your arms, snuggling against you.

“What’s her name again?” She asks.

“Thauko.” You say again with a little smile.

“Thauko…” She repeats lowly, “Why is she in that weird crib?”

“She is premature, she needs a lot of care.”

“Premature?” 

“She is born too soon, her development hasn’t stopped yet.”

“Is that… Bad?” She asks with her years old words.

“Yes… But we have skillful medics and she is a Chiss, like you. She will survive.” You say assertively.

You both remain silent, eyes fixed on the incubator, listening to all the machinery helping your baby staying alive. You sigh and bury your nose in Thaishi’s hair to inhale her scent for comfort.

That’s when Thrawn decided to enter your room.

“Daddy!” Thaishi shoots, already forgetting your demand to remain quiet for the baby.

“Thaishi, my little one.” He takes her in his arms, “Did you come to visit your little sister?”

She puts and winces, displeased.

“Yes, but she doesn’t move, she only sleeps! That’s so boring!” 

He chuckles lightly in response.

“It is normal, she needs to build her strength to grow and heal.”

“Well it’s boring!” She insists.

He comes to the incubator, passing a hand through one of the designated holes to gently, tenderly caress the tummy of his baby. You observe him observing his daughter with so much love in his gaze. She wriggles at the warm sensation of his large palm on her body, her tiny, tiny hand trying to seize one of his fingers to keep him here.

“Hello, Thauko.” He salutes her respectfully, like he would an adult. “My brave and courageous daughter.” He says almost to himself.

“Our little warrior.” You add with a sad smile.

“Indeed.” He hums approvingly.

You cried in his arms, terrified for the life of your daughter. But he remained assertive that she would survive, that you will all surpass that trial together. He was so adamant you had no choice but to get convinced that she would make it, no matter the odds.

But that is how he operates. Always choosing hope no matter what.

The feeble baby seems to burp, trembling in the crib with tubes in her little nose.

How much would you give to be able to hold her against yourself, to hug her tight and shower her with love and warmth. 

But your human body isn’t warm enough for her, preferring Thrawn’s warmth. He delicately grazes her plump cheek with his knuckles, blue skin on blue skin.

You silently admire that scene.

Your husband giving love to both of your daughters, hugging one and caressing the other gently. He retracts his hand off the incubator to leave your baby at peace and his gaze travels to yours.

“They are coming.” He simply announces.

You shudder.

He needs not to precise who, you know very well who he is talking about.

But now?!

In this situation?!

Did he lose his mind?

“With a premature baby?!” You demand, digging your nails in the cover.

“They have been properly warned and prepared in consequence.” He continues, “They are en route.” 

You open your mouth to retort but Thaishi beats you to it.

“Who’s en route?”

Thrawn affirms his grip on her body and turns his gaze to her, deadly serious.

“The Chiss Ascendancy.” He explains, “They come to pick you up.”

She tilts her head slightly, not understanding.

“I thought we were heading towards an Empire?”

“Me and your mother. You and Thauko will go your own way.”

She remains silent for a second, like she failed to understand.

“...What?” She asks with a trembling voice.

You give Thrawn a black look, warning him to keep his mouth shut but he slightly shakes his head to you, telling you he made his decision. He comes to sit on your bed, keeping her in his arms.

“Thaishi, you and your sister will join the Chiss Ascendancy. You will grow there and become adults, form your own families and serve the Ascendancy at the best of your abilities. This is for your safety.”

“You are coming with us… Right?” She inquires.

“No, my jewel.” He informs her, “Me and your mother have unfinished business at the Empire. Dangerous business, improper for children so young. The Ascendancy will welcome you, raise you and educate you in civilized ways. You will join a new family and walk towards a brighter future that we could not give you here.”

Her little hand that held his sleeve fall down to her side, gawking.”

“You will… abandon us?” Her voice is toneless with incomprehension and fear.

You rise in a sitting position to hug her.

“No, my sweet, no. We pondered this situation, this is the best solution for your safety. Our… respective works could never permit us to meet your needs and offer you a stable family. You would only suffer.”

“But… But… I don’t want to go…” She insists

“We know, little one.” He continues, “And we do not want to let you go either. But your safety and well being is our ultimate priority, the best solution is to send you to the Ascendancy.”

“But… No… No!” She decides, shouting, “I don’t wanna go! I wanna stay!” She starts punching his arms but he easily seizes her little fists to stop her as she cries.

“This is for the best, Thaishi. You may not understand now, but once you grow you will accept and recognize our decision was for the best.” He asserts.

She wails and screams and cries, refusing to calm down.

He hugs her tight, preventing her from punching and hurting herself, his head resting on her own little head.

“I don’t wanna! I wanna stay! Why are you abandoning us!?”

You press yourself against her, both of you holding her, letting her express her frustration, anger and fear through her tears and whines.

Your heart bleeds at those odious sounds. You only want to hear her laughs and giggles, those sounds are just so painful to you.

“They are coming to bring you to a better future.” He gently insists, “You will understand one day.”

“I wanna stay with you!”

“Once an adult, you will be free to come back and meet us once again. We could talk longly about anything you so desire. But before that, you will remain safe in the Ascendancy.” He keeps talking with his melodious, soothing voice.

You all three remain in a tight hug, consoling Thaishi, knowing the scars on her heart will take years, i not decades to heal.

----------------------------------------------------

Your legs tremble, feeling like jello. Thaishi holds on to your hand like a buoy in the open sea. Thrawn remains stills next to you, his hands clasped behind his back as always.

Before you a large Corvette is slowly opening its ramp.

Thashi digs her nails in your flesh when the ramp hits the floor, revealing Chiss with hard gazes. They silently and haughtily descend to join you, like they own the place.

Thrawn takes a step forward, with a respectful and polite expression.

“Admiral Ar’alani, I hope your travel was safe and good.” He asks in Sy Bisti.

“Grand Admiral Thrawn.” She responds coldly, “It was uneventful, which is quite surprising. Where are they?”

You flinch, squeezing Thaishi’s hand in yours. Thrawn take a step to the side, designing you two to his fellow Chiss. She walks up to you assuredly, gauging you up and down.

“I assume you are the mother.” she continues in Sy Bisti.

By instinct you place yourself before Thaishi, feeling yourself trembling before that woman. Her gaze lazily falls on your daughter, observing her intently.

“What is your name?” She demands.

Thaishi hides behind your leg and you caress her head.

“Your name, child!” She insists harsher.

“Thaishi.” You interject, trying to appease her, “Her name is Thaishi.”

“Thaishi…” She repeats before turning towards Thrawn, “The Mitth will not appreciate that name.”

“I fail to see why?” He responds, tilting his head slightly.

“Of course you don’t.” She turns back to you and your child, “Thaishi of the Chiss, it is time for you to say your farewell and come with us!”

You feel your daughter flinching behind you, oressign herself tighter behind you.

“A moment…” You ask, kneeling to her.

The woman named Ar’alani breathes through her nose and joins Thrawn to speak with him in Cheuhn. Your level isn’t good enough to understand the discussion.

You look at Thaishi, checking the zipper of her coat was up.

“Are you ready?” You ask softly.

She shakes her head.

“No… I don’t wanna go.”

“I know, my sweet. But it is for the greater good. You’ll see, everyone will be like you there, you’ll make a lot of friends and have a lot of fun.” You try to smile at her.

“But you will not be with me.”

“Thauko will be with you. Take care of your little sister, you are the eldest, she will need you.”

She sniffs in response.

“Mom… Can’t I stay?” She tries to plead again.

“Oh my sweet, I don’t want you to go either. But you would never be in security with us.”

You take her in your arms.

“Mum…” She insists.

You look into her red eyes. You see she is trying really hard to be strong and assured but you feel how close she is to broke. You squeeze her in your arms, reveling one last time in her.

“I love you so, so much Thaishi. Never forget that, please.”

She buries her head in the crook of your neck.

“It is time.” Thrawn announces, coming closer to you.

He kneels to Thaishi, holding her cheeks in his large hands.

“Thaishi, be strong. Obey the adults and work hard, do not neglect your education and look over your younger sister.” He says assuredly, the last orders from a father to his child, “I love you.”

He hugs her and she hugs him back, circling his neck with her little arms. You look at them, refraining a sob. You raise your head as you hear the wheels of the incubator, you stand up and press your hands against the glass, observing your baby.

You rarely had the occasion to hold her in your arms, she so rarely got out of the incubator. You gently take her out and kisses her forehead tenderly. Thrawn come caressing her head delicately and kisses her cheek. You press her against you one last time and put her back inside the incubator.

“Let’s go.” Ar’alani says, taking Thaishi’s hand and pulling her towards the corvette.

The Human medic pushes the incubator to who you assume to be a Chiss medic that take it and roll it towards the ship. Thaishi nervously turns back to you, falling behind Ar’alani.

“Mum.” She calls.

You wave at her, trying your best to smile comfortingly, hiding the pain you feel deep inside you.

“Mum…” This time her voice cracks.

She pulls on her hand, freeing herself and runs back to you. You immediately lower yourself and embrace her. Ar’alani looks at her, flabbergasted.

“Thaishi.” You broke.

“Mum!” She cries. “Don’t let them take me! Mum!”

You squeeze her hard in your arms when you feel getting snatched away from you. Ar’alani stands back up, holding Thaishi in her arms and turns back to the ship.

“Mum! Dad!” Thaishi screams at the top of her lungs, extending her hands to you, “Dad!”

You feel Thrawn kneeling next to you, circling your shoulders, as much to comfort you as to prevent you from running after your children.

“Mum!”

You dig your nails in Thrawn’s flesh, fighting the urge to sprint after that Chiss woman and take back your daughters with your teeth and fists.

“MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM!” You hear her final scream as the ramp closes back on them.

And then the Corvette takes off…

And disappears away.

And you break.

In a million pieces.

You scream, clawing at Thrawn that tries to keep you whole. You tear up his uniform in your pain, tearing his blue skin to blood.

But he holds on.

Embracing you in his large arms, caressing your hair, speaking sweet nothing in your ears.

But you are just deaf to his words.

And you cry.

Suddenly your fight for the Rebellion feels so insignificant, and you wish you would have gone with your children.

Thrawn opens your collar for you to breathe better as you wail, cradling you tenderly.

“Breath, Ch’acach.” He tries to calm you down, “They will be safe there, not harm will come to them. Breath.”

You sob and gasp, right in the middle of a panic attack. Thrawn caresses your cheek with the back of his hand, holding you close.

“Calm down, (Y/n). Calm down.” He keeps chanting lowly, only for your ears. “I am with you.”

Your mouth is open to swallow big bowls of air but they never reach your lungs, getting stuck in your throat.

“Today I am with you to catch you.” He continues gently.

But he wont be for long anymore… In less than a week you will reach the Empire's territories and he will let you go back to the Rebellion.

And you will be alone.

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

[dawn-moths]

I just recently read your fic bout Itto and I was so amazed by your vast imagination in writing. I could never 😭 Plus I really really love Itto so much 🥺💞 Would it be possible to write a same Itto x reader wherein he totally lost control of his animalistic side? But s/o liked it in the end tho XD (Gahd, blame my immoral kinks) Also his s/o giving him a head. (Again, blame my weird fantasies lmaooo.)

If you're not comfortable with it, please ignore this. Still thank you! I'm amazed by how good you are in writing 🌻💓

Well, anon, I certainly didn’t think my first fic of the new year would be something this… intense 😅 But I’m happy to write your request nonetheless. Also thank you so much for your nice words on my previous Itto fic. I plan on writing a part two to that one in the future :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy~!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“It Feels Better Biting Down”

Itto Arataki x Female Reader

word count: 3600+

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! this is just full on smut no plot not gonna lie, dubcon, rough sex, reader is called “little one” and “good girl”, biting, manhandling, oral (mutual), blood, hair pulling, choking, aftercare, title taken from “Biting Down” by Lorde, hope i did well by you anon lol.

*ao3 mirror*

***

It comes on quickly, too sudden to change the course of the storm before you already find yourself swirling within the eye, the worst still yet to come.

The way he morphs from being his usual jovial, goofy self one minute into a dangerous, feral monster the next.

Sometimes all it takes is a taste, a scent, a single look, and something about you has Itto forgetting any and all of his learned humanity.

The amber of his eyes dilates from a thin ring around blown out pupils, his gaze overflowing with adoration for you, to all that gold swallowing up his affection, a predator honing in on its prey with a vicious kind of focus.

The moment his grip flexes harder on your hips, tugging you closer, his jaw clenching, you know it’s too late. You could try and get away, put up a fight, as feeble as you know such an attempt would be, but testing that theory in the past only earned you deeper scratches, darker bruises, and a worse aching between your thighs when all was said and done.

So instead, you sit there, trying not to wince as you swallow down the dry lump forming in your throat. The first few times you experienced this, it felt like it was choking you, but Itto taught you soon enough what it really was to suffocate with his two large hands wrapped around your pretty neck.

He holds you close, not in a way to comfort you, but to keep you. Control you.

Your eyes widen with nervous anticipation, a shuddering breath exhaled through your nose as you see Itto’s nostrils flare. He used to joke about being able to smell your fear, the sweet scent getting him drunk the more you squirmed and struggled. Now you think he’d been telling the truth all along, the sharp points of his fangs glinting as one corner of his mouth pulls up into a wider smirk, mean and selfish and hungry.

Yet still, you attempt to bargain. “Itto…” you begin, slow and stern yet with a little tremble of trepidation etched in your tone. “Why don’t we just—” But the rest of the suggestion never comes. It’s sliced in two as a sharp gasp cuts through your words, your back meeting the ground as Itto grabs both your wrists and pins you down, squeezing them until you let out a squeak of pain and start to writhe.

His mouth fills with saliva, sticky and warm with the promise of how delectable the salt of your skin will taste once he latches onto you, how hot your blood will run once his incisors pierce your shoulder and let crimson burst into his mouth.

“Hurts— Itto—!” You weakly try to plead with him, his fists curling tighter around your wrists, pulling your hands up above your head until he can take both your wrists in one of his massive palms, grinding your bones together and drinking in every whimper and whine that spills from your quivering lips as he forces his mouth against yours, his tongue savoring the flavor of you, wanting more, more, more like even if he consumed all of you it could never be enough.

And you bite his lip.

Hard.

Hard enough to draw some of his blood. It’s only a fair trade. Only, none of this is ever really fair, because Itto’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger, able to effortlessly dominate you even in his gentlest and most grounded state. But you continue to allow yourself to count the taste of iron on your tongue as a victory, as it’s probably the only one you’ll be able to claim during this whole ordeal.

And the oni actually laughs when he pulls away to see the dark red of his blood spotting the corner of your mouth, but it’s not a sound of amusement or joy. It’s the low, dark rumbling of a vengeful growl, a vow that he’ll get you back for that.

“Little one wants to play, huh?” he teases with a sinister rasp, flipping you over so that your chest is pressing into the patch of grass he’s pinned you down on, painfully twisting one of your arms behind your back while the other stays shackled against the dirt in his clawed fist. “Fine—” He hooks a talon in one strap of your tank top, gathering the other thin strip of fabric under the same nail and pulling back hard, ripping your shirt and fully exposing your shoulders and clavicles to him, hinting at what he’s planning next. “Let’s play.”

Itto licks his lips, takes in the sight of you like this, completely and unquestionably at his mercy. You feel the hand that had been twisting your arm ball up in the waistband of your shorts then, tugging them down with the sound of tearing threads until they’re tangled up around your knees, being kicked off to your ankles and then abandoned completely.

His teeth always come as a surprise, no matter how many times you feel the shape of his bite imprinted on you, moulding themselves into your skin as if to terraform your body with his molars and incisors, scraping along your pulse to carve out new trails and excavate those sweet, helpless little sounds from deep within the unexplored caverns of your chest.

You might’ve thought the initial sting would be less by now, become dulled the more times you felt it, but it never does. Not quite. And the moment just before he applies enough pressure to break the skin, your eyes well with tears, all your muscles tensing in tandem with the urge to outlast this torment, to prove you can take it.

Because you can.

You can and you will.

As blood trickles down the curve of your shoulder and spots the damp earth beneath you, you hold back a scream, choking on it as you feel it thrash around wildly behind your clenched teeth. Itto laps up your blood, nursing the wound newly created only to gift you with a fresh one minutes later, this time on the other side over the meaty spot right between your shoulder and your neck.

That time, the ghosts of a shriek slip past your lips, the pain sounding like the curling tendrils of fading smoke, elusive and never the same twice. You feel Itto smirk against you before removing his mouth, a few viscous strands of his saliva keeping the two of you connected for a moment before they snap, mixing in with your blood and making you hiss.

More of your tears fall, meeting under your chin in thick droplets that conjoin into one bead that races down the raise of your throat, one of Itto’s palms guiding to lift your chin, craning your neck back as the other hand begins to spread you wider for him, collecting your arousal on his taloned fingertips and spreading it through your folds, pleased with how wet you are for him already.

“Itto— Please—” you can barley utter, your voice a mere whisper as the strain on your vocal chords worsens, his grip curling a little tighter until you’re only able to draw in frantic, panting breaths, feeling like it wouldn’t take much more to turn your vision black and numb the rest of your senses for a little while.

But Itto’s become accustomed to this routine as well, the small sliver of him that remains in control during these animalistic impulses knowing how to read you to ensure that you actually do want this to some degree. And if the desperate pulsing of your needy little hole isn’t the perfect indicator of your mutual craving of him, then it’s the pounding of your heart he can feel against his wrist in your lower stomach as he reaches around to tease you from a new angle, reveling in the way your belly tightens and lurches as he toys with your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles over you relentlessly until your eyes roll back and your jaw goes slack, your own breed of feral moan clawing its way out of you.

“That’s it…” he seems to coo at you, though with a sharp-edged kind of praise, like a shard of broken glass learning how easily it can cut through a sheet, wanting to test its limits until it becomes dulled and the flowing fabric had been reduced to ribbons and shreds. “So good for me— Fuck—!”

He slips a finger into you, feels how your body sucks him in like the first breath of air after breaking through the surface of deep water, relieved but greedy for more. So he slips in a second and you keen, back arching as his thumb continues to nudge at your clit, overstimulating you until your vision spots with bursts of violent vibrance, flashes of gold forming fissures and cracks in your mind, little pathways that always lead you back to him.

You’re about to spill over the edge and he can tell, but then he’s withdrawing his fingers and turning you back to face him, causing a whine of frustrated protest to sneak through your veil of satiated exhaustion as the coil in your core that had been so close to snapping slowly starts to relax.

You want to argue that it’s unfair, that the agreement the two of you made for when situations like this arise is that, so long as Itto pleasures you, he can be as rough as he wants. But the moment you look down and see the intimidating bulge in his pants, you know what he wants. And you’ll give it to him, for a price.

“Are you coherent enough to remember the deal?” you nearly spit at him, face furrowed with what might’ve been fury— a challenging dagger of a glare— if not for the masochistic undertones your desperate little doe-eyes were implying.

Itto nods, though the vacancy in his stare tells you he doesn’t care to honor it, that he hadn’t even been listening in the first place, so when he gets close enough, you comb your fingers into his mane of shaggy white hair, form a fist, and give a sharp tug.

“Then say it to me,” you order, a small groan of pleasure stuttering past the oni’s lips as your grip remains unrelenting.

Itto cracks another one of those sharp-toothed smirks, his eyes shimmering with mirth for a moment before remembering that he was the one in control. He pulls you on top of him as he leans back, you already beginning to unbuckle his belt as he answers with only a hint of sarcasm, “I’ll do yours if you do mine.”

As his aching cock springs free, already dripping with that pearly pre-cum, more leaking from the blushing tip as you take it in your hand, you say with a sharp, warning tone, “Don’t forget it.”

And, while you always looked forward to the magic Itto could work with his mouth over and inside of you, the deep, rumbling groans and stifled, high-pitched whines you were able to draw from him as your lips wrapped around his tip, tongue teasing along each vein and curve of him as you worked further down his shaft, new tears wetting your lashes as he hit the back of your throat and made it hard— if not damn near impossible— to breathe, well…

Those sounds were more than enough to keep you going.

Now it was his turn to take a fistfull of your hair and tug, needing something— anything— to tether himself to as your warm, wet mouth and tightly constricting throat washed wave after wave of pleasure through the shores of his body. He was so lost in the lust-fueled haze that he nearly forgot that he liked it best to be inside that tight little cunt of yours when he came. Not that he would’ve minded watching you wince and struggle to swallow the bitter ropes of his thick, white seed, but he knew that, if this were to be allowed to continue he needed to make sure you felt good too.

“F-fuck…” Itto stuttered through a sigh, unsure whether the fist balled up in your hair was trying to pull you away or force you to take him deeper, his cock twitching as you choked on him, your eyes beginning to flutter and roll from the lack of oxygen. “Alright, alright, alright—” he stammered, finally gaining enough willpower to pull you off of him lest he finish before he could start his real work on you. “Fuck… You’re too good at that…”

For a second, it was almost as if that blinding ferocity had melted away, even the most jagged of rocks worn down smooth when placed in the path of a river for long enough. But then the softness of his placated desire seemed to return to itself, all that raw power and fanged instinct flooding back into him as the dam broke and the smooth rock of reprieve was completely washed away.

Itto pinned you back to the ground with a force hard enough to rattle your bones, stirring fear back into your bloodstream and injecting it into your marrow as he slid you closer to him, fingertips digging into the plush meat of your thighs, hooking one of your knees over his shoulder before pushing the other closer to meet your chest, splitting you open wider for him like he would a ripe pomegranate with his bare hands, eager to lap up the sweet, tangy juices that burst from the ruby fruit.

But he makes good on his promise, on your deal, and that’s all that really matters, right?

How’d he put it? I’ll do yours if you do mine. Yeah, that sounded about right.

“Fuck— Itto—!” you moaned through a shuddering gasp as his tongue pressed hard and flat against you, laving up your drenched cunt to suck on your throbbing clit, once again twisting that coil in your gut into a near painful kind of pleasure. When he speared his long, wet muscle into your neglected hole, you cried out loud enough for the upturn of your pitched moan to echo through the little glade you two had found for yourselves today.

Good thing camp was more than a mile away. Though, if you really stopped to think about it, if any of the others had ever heard what you and their leader got up to during the off hours in the day and the odd hours of the night, would they dare say anything about it?

You often thought how Itto’s love was a lot like how some animals eat their young— the mothers devouring that which is weaker than them to give themselves more strength— the way he wanted his mouth and teeth and tongue to know every single inch of your being, especially when there was the anticipation of a battle on the horizon, the intensity sometimes causing you to question your own safety. Though, the oni had yet to truly go too far and scare you to the point of making you reconsider whether you wanted these kinds of relations between you two to cease entirely.

Plus, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave the thrill of it all from time to time too.

By the time you were coming completely undone for the first time that session, Itto’s face was shiny and slick from the obscene mixture of his spit and your glistening arousal, his tongue repeatedly poking out to lick at the corners of his lips and collect the excess so as not to waste any parts of you he was lucky enough to get, all the while watching as your trembling, broken form lay in the grass, limbs sprawled out in this angle and that as you failed to register anything concerning your own body beside the immense pleasure that was fading as the slow drip of reality fused back into your veins.

But the two of you were far from done.

Itto hadn’t even come yet.

And, by your own moral standards, that wasn’t very fair, now was it?

Just barely able to feel the grass under your back and catch your breath again, Itto was back on you, slotting himself between your hips and allowing his shadow to engulf you, blocking out the glare of the setting sun behind his silhouette.

“Think you’ve had enough?” the oni taunted, cradling your face in his palms, burning the image of your fucked-out expression into his mind. When you didn’t respond, he gave your cheek a light slap, startling you back to the situation at hand. “Well, I guess that doesn’t matter…” he chuckled, wrapping his hands around your throat. Once again, it was too late for you to react before you realized what was about to happen. “You’re done when I say you’re done.”

The fading embers of your adrenaline burst back to the scorching life of a raging wildfire, not even given the chance to finish sighing out your current exhale before your right to breathe was confiscated.

You clawed at his hands, his wrists, his arms, fighting with everything you had to steal even a quarter of a breath, but Itto wouldn’t allow it. He’d only surrender to your struggling when all your fight had died and you fell limp beneath him. He liked it when you went all soft and slack for him, pliable like the beautiful red clay that sometimes lined the cliffsides near the shore, their natural dyes bleeding into the lapping ocean. 

Itto’s flesh was marked with dozens of tiny, red scratch tracks now, your little nails biting into him until the asphyxiation claimed you and you stilled, your eyes fluttering shut as your chest convulsed and stuttered. Itto let you go then, of course, but got straight back to his main objective while you slowly returned to the land of the living.

By the time you were registering your surroundings again, the vast canopy of trees overhead sending lilac sakura petals drifting down with every new gust of wind, Itto had already positioned himself between your thighs, his aching cock in one hand and lined up with your drooling hole.

He didn’t even warn you that time, just buried himself down to the hilt inside of you with one harsh thrust, knocking the wind from your lungs in an entirely different way as your body struggled to accommodate the sheer girth of him.

You only had a moment to adjust, though, with someone of Itto’s size, even when you two were taking it slow and he was being as gentle and considerate as possible, it was still hard to get used to the sweet, stinging stretch of his length.

You were sure he was going to tear you in two, split you right down the middle until you were broken and ruined and unraveled in a way that only he knew how to put back together again. So when his pace quickly became the ravenous, relentless speed that it often was in the end, all you could do was lay there and let him take you, gripping his horns in your sweaty, trembling fists to anchor yourself to something other than the pain that someone with so much raw power could bestow upon you.

But, as Itto knew well by now, he had a responsibility to ensure that you were able to enjoy this too, even if only by a fraction of the pleasure you allowed him to pillage from your body when he got like this.

So he let you come again, your insides constricting around him in tandem with your final, tortured whines and finally giving him exactly what he needed to overflow you with his balmy love.

There was always so much of it— so much that your body could never quite contain it all, both your combined juices dribbling down your ass and staining the tender insides of your trembling thighs— and no matter how many times the two of you engaged in your bodies’ mutual desires, the bulge that formed in your belly from how much he’d filled you up always came as bit of a surprise.

“That’s it…” Itto sighed, sated, nearly collapsing on top of you as he started to go soft inside, always loving the way you felt cockwarming him in the afterglow of your orgasms. “That’s a good girl… Knew you could take it… So good for me…”

And just like that, with the monster inside of him now fully fed— for the time being, at least— you had your gentle giant back.

Itto carefully pulled out of you, scooping you up in his arms and cradling you against his chest, feeling your warm breath fanning over his dewy skin as your heart rate steadied and the post-sex sleepiness began to overtake you.

You looked like you’d just been through hell— all bitten and bruised and hair mussed in a tangled mess— but Itto stared down at you dozing off against him like you were his little angel, perfect enough to rival the Archons themselves.

He found you beautiful in every way he’d ever seen you, but when you looked like this, with proof that you were his, only his marked in reds and blues and violets across your tender flesh…

It might’ve been his favorite.

So, after carrying you the short distance to a little cave he’d scouting out near the glade, Itto made you comfortable while he cleaned you up, gingerly tended to your wounds the best he could, and then snuggled you back up to his chest, smoothing your hair away from your face and watching you drift off into sleep, already looking forward to when your bruises and bites would inevitably fade and he’d catch you out in some deserted area of the island by chance, both of you ready to partake in this feral ritual all over again.

Because, similar to sinking your teeth into the tender, juicy flesh of a ripened fruit, Itto’s love felt better biting down.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[effyrosemary]

oh my god unethical priest marius you're a genius!!!!! do you think armand resists the idea that letting his priest fuck him is totally okay in the eyes of god or is he relieved to finally let go and give into his baser desires.... or both! do you think it makes him less guilty or more? god and imagine if marius were to weaponize armand's guilt in order to keep him even more trapped, like yes you are so bad for this and i'm the only one who can absolve you. i'm so invested LOL if you have any hcs of how it would play out i'm aaalll ears

Omg! thank you! To answer your question:

I think it’s both kinda. I think for Armand it would be so liberating to finally give in to these desires, and I think the shame is also kind of what gets him off (it’s the classic “oh no this is so wrong, but it feels so good!”). But I also think that there’s still a small part of him that genuinely feels it’s wrong to do these sexual things. Armand desperately wants to believe in something, I think, and to have that stability so he can have a space for himself to rebuild and to trust again. (don’t get me started, I have this whole fic idea of Daniel trying to provide Armand with a cozy little home and emotional support and stability so Armand has a space to heal, but that’s another story for another day) But I also feel like Armand is very nihilistic in some ways, so maybe he feels guilty but he also goes against the guilt on purpose, to feel that hurt and to feel that shame, I don’t know if you’re following me hahah

And omg, Marius weaponizing the genuine guilt is so wrong and so deliciously GOOD. (idc! it’s fiction! they’re not real people! let us have our dirty thoughts OK!)

When I first saw “unethical therapist Marius” on @monstersinthecosmos I was so immediately hooked. (I then sent this anon bc I needed to talk about it lmao, I was still not familiar with tumblr again after being away for a long time and I thought maybe people will think I’m weird but now I say fuck it bc Anne Rice never shunned away from people thinking her stories/characters were strange/too much.)

Marius is always so seemingly in control, and I love when he’s fooling himself that he’s doing the right thing when he KNOWS he’s not. That’s also why I like Pandora and him together, she kinda sees through his mask. Spoiler: I still remember that one part in Blood Communion after Marius kills Arjun where they’re all sitting around the table and Marius is furiously talking to Pandora and Lestat says: “I had never seen him so angry”, in other words; Lestat has never really seen Marius’ mask break like that, except now that he is upset with/about Pandora. Or when he’s helped out of the ice by Pandora and Santino in QOTD where he childishly snaps at her and says “I can walk unaided, thank you!” when Pandora reaches out to touch him, and she just gives him a shove and is like ‘“Fine girl, walk then lmao”

He wants to be this voice of reason, this stability etc, and he is, but he’s also human. So I love it when those kind of characters secretly give in to their bad side and try to justify it! I also love it when usually reserved people finally snap and can’t control themselves anymore when they finally get what they want, it’s my favorite thing. (There is this beautiful fic by @0junemeatcleaver0 where Marius kinda loses his composure at some points and he gives in to what he really wants and it’s so good. Highly recommend that fic in general.)

I LOVE headcanons, please tell me if you have some! These are some of mine regarding priest!marius:

- Marius has to actively restrain his thoughts from going wild when he sees Armand on his knees, or when the boy is reaching up to clean a shelf and his shirt rises and Marius can see the silky skin of his lower back. He’s practically drooling :)

- Armand secretly kind of knows the relationship between them is wrong, but he tries to test Marius by experimenting. (Sitting next to Marius and accidentally letting their knees touch etc that sort of thing, playing it dirty but also safe you know)

- Armand gets turned on when Marius is preaching in front of the crowd (idk how that shit works I’m not even religious, I never grew up religious lmao! how bad I am!) because Armand loves to see Marius in a position of power, and he loves how the people of the church look up to him.

- Armand has definitely thought about sucking Marius off under his robes when he’s speaking in front of a church full of people.

- At night, when Marius can’t think of nothing but Armand’s shapely legs and his lovely mouth, he turns to his Bible with the stubborn will of A Good Man and tries to ignore the insistent throbbing between his legs. And he can manage it, at least for a while.

- But then one night, he walks in on Armand praying on his knees and he walks up to tell the boy to go on home because it’s late and he should get some sleep, and the boy looks up from where he’s kneeling and says in a small voice, cheeks blushing; “I can’t, father. I’ll have sinful thoughts when I’m trying to sleep, I need to pray first.”

- And Marius offers he can help Armand with these thoughts, if Armand is willing to learn how to be a proper man of God.

- Nothing gets Marius more worked up than the idea of Armand calling him ‘ Father’ when they’re getting dirty together, it drives him feral

Alors… as Armand once told David Talbot; “Look, I’m deranged x”

* English is not my first language so apologies if there are some typos. Edit: I can’t believe I forgot the word “not” in the previous sentence for DAYS I have No Brains

[borntoocry]

ellie x fem!reader

reader is Tommy and maria's adopted daughter Who's never been outside of jackson and also has a BIG crush on ellie

Tommy decides One day to invite his Brother ,Joel , over for a family dinner where while the olders are talking , reader and ellie are in reader's room where She tells the auburn haired girl her Wish (going to a real Mall)

funny thing ellie found One and decides It would be a perfect date to ask reader out ,they sneak out and ellie brings reader to this Mall where they have a almost-death experience since our smartass ellie forgot to clear out of infected some shops , they make It out alive but reader ends up with a medium/big wound (NOT A ZOMBIE BITE PLEASE) and they're like " well good luck to us explaining that to Maria"

They go home to find very angry and upset Brothers +Maria

(if you like It i also have an idea for a Little part 2 AND ALSO SORRY FOR BAD ENGLISH🤍)

THIS WAS SO GOOD??? HELLO??? OFC! the first part will be the dinner with a bit of an argument, and the second part will be the mall. we'll see how long we can drag this on for. thank you for this anon!

this is a fem!oc x Ellie williams fic. she's a poc. sorry if this diverges from what you wanted, I just wanted to write something in first pov instead of YN. (is that okay??)

warnings: conversation about death. drinking. some kissing. that's about it.

PART II

I fucking hate the apocalypse. Then again, who enjoys it? Besides psychos testing out their survival skills. 

The apocalypse means losing people: people you’ve known since birth, people you’ve known since your mind could render memories, and people who you never got to know due to your young mind. Like my mom. Young and full of hope, which is something everyone says when they talk about the dead mom they don’t remember. But from what I hear, that’s what she was like. 

Her name was Poppy, which means that I might’ve had weird grandparents. And because my name is Clementine, that means I might’ve had a weird mom. From the pictures tacked onto my wall, it seems so: she had blue hair as a teenager, she dyed it every so often from shades of pink to purple and orange. She had piercings all over her ears and a couple on her face, and she had tattoos that littered her soft tan skin. 

I have… nothing. I’m bare. All that I have is curly hair and tan skin from my mom, and an odd shade of hazel eyes from my dad. I don’t match myself whatsoever. But I guess that’s why I’m like my mom–I don’t make sense. 

But the one person who has made an effort to make me make sense is Ellie–Joel’s ‘daughter,’ who isn’t truly his daughter because they are not related whatsoever. She’s just been around him since she was 14. I make an effort to make that known, because people around town consider me Tommy and Maria’s daughter, which then implies that I’m Joel’s niece. Which I am not. Because if I was, that would make the entire situation of me liking Ellie sort of… incest-y. 

But me and Tommy and Maria are not blood related, and me and Ellie and Joel and whatever this family is, are not related either. I’ve just been taken in by Tommy and Maria since I was three years old.They care for me like their own. And for that, I’m grateful. 

Tommy enjoys inviting Joel and Ellie to dinner at least once a week; because we’re a group of  put together people that have been through more shit than we probably should’ve. And every week, they come over. Sometimes with food, sometimes with alcohol. Maria allows me to drink because she says I’m mentally old enough. That and from what Tommy says, laws don’t really exist anymore, so they can’t really go to jail for letting me drink underage.

This week, Maria has made lasagna and her famous salad, which is just a mixture of pickled vegetables tossed in oil and goat cheese with lettuce. It really is good, but I won’t lie and say I haven’t gotten a bit tired of it. I eat it anyway, because Maria is a marvelous cook and I’d rather stab my eye than ask her to make something different. 

I set up the table and lay out five wine glasses. I usually sit next to Ellie while the old adults sit next to each other around the end of the table. I somehow still get nervous sitting next to her even after four years of knowing one another. It starts off with a rumbling in my stomach, and then a batch of butterflies find their way into my chest and absorb all of the liquids spewing into my body. I can’t really stop it, but at least they don’t attack my vocal chords. 

“You done?” Tommy asks as he walks into the room with two bottles of wine. This week, Ellie is making her famous garlic rolls, which pair amazingly with Maria’s lasagna. Because she never makes them, I eat one too many and end up tipsy and bloated. 

I nod and grab the bottles from his hands. I set them in the center alongside the other bottle of wine and one singular bottle of whiskey. This family drinks too much, but no one seems to care. It’s a Friday, after all. 

“How does it look?” I ask, waving a hand over the table. 

Tommy smiles, which force his wrinkles to dance about his face. “It looks wonderful like always, sweetheart.” He comes around and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I pat his hand and lean my head against his. 

I love Tommy–he’s truly my father even though I’ll never call him dad. I guess he knows that, but he’s fine with it. I call him ‘My Tommy’ to everyone I know, which is somehow more special than the title ‘dad.’ 

“Awe, look at you guys,” Maria says as she enters the dining room. She places her lasagna and salad in the center of the table and can’t stop her smile from spreading along her entire face at the sight of us. “My Tommy and my Clem. You are adorable.” 

I kiss Tommy’s cheek and pull away, smiling back at Maria who has now run around the table to kiss Tommy. I don’t watch as she kisses him, but I hear the peck. 

 I take one last look at the table, trying to see if there’s anything I need to perfect. But as nothing comes to mind, there’s a knock at the door. I turn to look at Tommy and Maria, but quickly leap towards the door when I find them kissing. 

I already know who it is, so I don’t check the peephole. I unlock the door and twist the handle, opening it up to see Joel and Ellie on the other side. Joel holds a bottle of whiskey and Ellie holds a dish of rolls. 

I smile and take the whiskey from Joel. “I don’t think we need anymore of this, but thank you.” 

They step inside and I shut the door behind them. “There’s no such thing as too much whiskey.” 

“Or wine,” Ellie states, which draws me over to her. 

I look at her and smile. “Well wine, no. Whiskey, maybe.” 

Her hair that’s tossed into a low bun shakes along with her head. Some tendrils of hair fly into her face and I fight against my fluttering stomach not to push them out of my face. To fight it, I look away and take the whiskey to the dining table. 

Tommy watches me place the whiskey next to the plenty of other bottles and chuckles. “Thank you brother but that might be too much.” 

“That’s what I said,” I tell him. “Do you want me to take it to the kitchen instead?” 

Tommy shakes his head. “Leave it. It’s a Friday and I’m sure we’ve all had a rough week.” 

I nod even though I don’t do much around Jackson. I’m not really allowed to go out on patrol like Ellie. My mom died that way. Maybe not riding around safely like Ellie, but she died out on patrol. And ever since I was old enough to take on tasks, I was labored with tending to the farm animals. 

I have never gone outside of the walls of Jackson. I’ve begged Tommy and Maria, but they always say no. We’ve even gotten into fights about it, which have led me to nights in Ellie’s room, where she tells me stories of what she’s seen out there. And some of those stories have included a mall. 

Because of her stories, I have dreamed about sneaking away and finding that said mall. Even though I know it won’t happen, I dream about it–because how harmful can a dream be? 

“Alright, has everyone washed their hands?” Maria asks. 

Tommy and Joel nod but Ellie and I look over at one another, shaking heads. I head into the kitchen with her behind me and the butterflies come out in full effect, knocking into the walls of my stomach. 

I eject soap into my hands and turn on the sink, quickly shoving my hands underneath the slow stream to get some bubbles forming. As I knead the soap into my hands, Ellie clears her throat. I look over at her with a smile and she begins a conversation. 

“How are you doing?” she asks. 

I nod. “Good. So far, I’m doing good.” 

“Has that guy Jacob been bothering you?” she asks, referring to this one guy around our age that can’t seem to stop pestering every girl in Jackson. He used to catcall me everyday during the summer. I wore shorts and thin shirts so I wouldn’t overheat, and he’d come over whistling at me, hoping I’d feed into his delusions. 

I never told him I wasn’t into his type, so he kept coming onto me. Until a couple weeks ago when I punched him so hard that he fell back and got a concussion. I guess that gave him the memo. 

I wash the suds out of my hands as I shake my head. “He hasn’t talked to me since you know what.” 

She laughs and takes my spot by the sink. “That was badass, by the way,” she tells me as the soap suds up in her hands. 

My cheeks become hot and I laugh. “Thanks,” I say, “you’ve told me that quite a couple times.” 

Her cheeks heat up and swell with blood, but I try not to think of it. Instead, I focus on her hands and the way the soap begins vanishing from her fingers. The new tattoos that tread down her hands come into full effect and I have to turn away. 

“I say it ‘cause it’s true,” she tells me as she dries her hands on her jeans. 

I shrug. “It’s no biggie.” 

“What’s no biggie?” Joel asks as he steps into the kitchen. 

“Me punching Jacob,” I tell him. 

He laughs and grabs a couple more napkins from the counter. “That was bad ass, by way.” 

Ellie and I turn to one another and laugh. Joel, as confused as he is, turns away and re-enters the dining room, where we follow him into and sit down for dinner. 

We’re three bottles of wine into dinner and I’ve had about two very full glasses. Even though I’ve been allowed to drink around Tommy and Maria since I turned 17, I haven’t gained a high enough tolerance. So now I drunkenly sit in my seat with one of Ellie’s garlic rolls in my hand. 

Tommy and Joel are laughing at something Maria said, and Ellie is staring me down. 

“You don’t think you’ve had enough to drink?” she asks as she glances at my wine glass. 

I shrug. “You want some?” 

She shrugs. 

“Have it,” I tell her. 

She chugs the rest and places the glass next to her, as if to say, ‘Now you can’t get any more.’ I’m fine with that, so I chow down on the garlic roll and listen to the adults. 

This runs for about ten minutes before the conversation is redirected towards the teenagers. “So,” Maria says, “how are you girls?” 

I glance at Ellie and I catch her looking back at me. Her red cheeks make a re-appearance and I mistake it for the wine and whiskey. Ellie looks back at Maria and smiles. “We’re good. Well–I’m good. I’ve been doing fine on patrols and all that.” She turns to me again and with her red cheeks and perfectly molded lips, asks, “And you, Clem?” 

I shake out of my drunken thoughts and crookedly smile. “It’s been fine on the farm.” 

Joel glances between me and Ellie and chuckles. “You hate it at the farm, don’t you?” 

I shrug. I pick at the leftover pieces of dead lettuce on my plate and try to find words that don’t come off as bitchy. But I fail. The words tumble out of my mouth before I can slap a hand over my lips. “Nothing new ever happens and I can’t do anything else, so yeah, I kinda do hate it.” 

Maria sighs and I look up at her. “You know you can’t go on patrol, Clem.” 

“Well I can’t do anything else here either.” 

“Clementine, don’t start your arguing,” Tommy warns. 

I scoff. “I’m not arguing, I’m just trying to understand why you won’t let me go on patrol.” 

“Because–” Maria starts. 

“Because what? Ellie goes on patrol!” 

“That’s different,” Joel mutters. 

I avert my gaze towards him and ask, “How? How is it different?” 

“Your mom died while out on patrol,” he continues. 

“From what I know, combat skills aren’t hereditary. Y’all can teach me! Ellie can teach me.” 

Ellie stays silent. I suddenly  feel bad for jamming her into our conversation. She sits next to me and places her hand on my hand, forcing my trembling fingers to die down. She leans in and tries to whisper something in my ear, but I shove her away and continue with the conversation between me and the adults. 

“Stop trying to fight this, Clementine,” Tommy tells me. 

“But you can teach me! How do you know I’ll die if you don’t teach me how to defend myself?” 

“Your mother knew how to defend herself,” Maria says, but before she can continue, I cut her off. 

“Okay then! So teach me how to defend myself.” 

“But she was stupid and got herself killed. And I’d rather keep you locked in Jackson than have you do the same.” 

“So I’m stupid?” I ask. The color drains out of my face and leaves me as pale as a ghost. I’ve always been mistaken for Tommy and Maria’s daughter due to my skin color, but now that my color has drained from my body, I feel like everything that used to connect me to this couple is gone. “You think that because my mom died stupidly, I’ll do the same?” 

Maria shuts her eyes and pulls herself away from the table. She stands up and gathers her and Tommy’s plates. “We’re not talking about this. Talk to your Tommy and leave me out of it.” 

Tommy glances at me and I look away, pulling myself away from the table and fleeing. I trip over the chair and try kicking it away, but Ellie latches her hand onto my arm and pulls me around the tipping chair. 

She helps me up the stairs as my vision becomes blurred and once we enter my bedroom, I flop onto my bed. She shuts my door and I instantly sob. 

“Hey, you’re okay,” Ellie whispers as she plops down next to me and rubs her hands along my spine. “You’re okay, Clem.” 

I shake my head. “Fuck them!” I exclaim. “They’ve kept me locked up in Jackson my entire life and expect me not to want to go out? I’m a fucking human, not a pet!” 

“They just want to keep you safe, Clem.” 

I drunkenly disobey, pushing her off and scooting up to the back of my bed. She crawls towards me and sits in front of my legs. She places her hands on top of my knees and slowly rubs her thumbs along the grooves. 

“Leave me alone,” I whisper. 

“Nothing they said was true,” she tells me. 

I look up at her with a frown. “How do you know that?” 

“You’re the smartest girl I know, Clem.” 

I roll my eyes. 

Ellie slaps my knee and cowers over me. “I mean it. You’re incredibly intelligent with animals. You practically speak to them!” 

“I’m telling you, I’m weird.” 

She shakes her head and places her hands on both of my knees. She spreads them apart and crawls between them. I gulp down the nervousness cinching my throat and try to push myself back against my bed. But I’m already against the wall. 

I’ve wanted this ever since I met Ellie. Sure, it was inappropriate for a fourteen-year-old to be thinking about this very moment where Ellie kisses me, but I couldn’t just knock those thoughts away. They have been imprinted onto my mind ever since, and now it’s happening. 

Or maybe not. We’re drunk. But I so badly want this. 

“What’s so bad about being weird?” she asks me in a seductive tone that makes an awful whining noise come out of my throat. She chuckles and lowers her head even more. “What was that?” 

I shrug. “I’m nervous,” I say. “And we’re drunk.” 

“And what about this is making you nervous?” 

“It looks like you want to kiss me…” I whisper. 

“And what if I do?” 

I raise an eyebrow. 

Ellie places her lips on my forehead and smoothes the wrinkles lining my skin. “You are nothing they say you are. You’re intelligent, you’re beautifully weird and you I know you’d be one badass fighter.” 

I look up at her, our lips mere centimeters apart, and frown. “Then why don’t they see that?” 

Ellie’s fingers move up from the bottom of my neck up to my cheeks. She rubs her thumbs along my lips and whispers, “They do, I promise you they do, Clem. I think maybe they don’t want to risk losing you, even if they can show you how to be a badass warrior.” 

I crack a smile, even though it might be the fakest one I’ve ever put on. She must notice, though, because she leans in as close as she can. “If I kiss you, is there a chance this frown will disappear?” 

I lick my lips and stare up at her dark eyes that seem to seep into my body. “Maybe,” I whisper, and allow her lips to sink into mine. 

Her hands wrap around my cheeks and mine wrap around her hair. She pushes me down into my bed and I slowly lean back, wrapping my legs around her waist. I act needy, because I am. I kiss her like I’ve always dreamed of, with my lips following hers and opening up my mouth when she wants to dart her tongue in. 

I’ve kissed one person before Ellie, but it was to get her off my mind. She was spinning in my head, owning every single crevice of my brain. I used to think it was on purpose–the universe was trying to drive me mad before the walls of Jackson did. But now I think… Well, I don’t know  what the universe was trying to do. What I do know is that all those times I made out with Kennedy was to prepare me for the making out Ellie and I are doing. 

The kissing between Ellie and I is fervent. She’s kissing my lips, sucking my bottom lip, kissing along my neck down to my collarbones. She’s trying to pull a leg over one of mine so she can–what I assume–hump it, but before she does, I pull away. 

“Maybe let’s go back down,” I whisper, out of breath. 

She pulls her head away from my neck and brushes her hair out of her face. “Not yet,” she says. “I have something to tell you.” 

I nod. “Do you like me?” I ask. 

She chuckles. “Yes, but that’s not what I was going to say.” 

I frown. “Oh.” 

“I thought that was obvious,” she tells me. “That I like you. I’ve been staring at you ever since I showed up.” 

I drop my head in embarrassment and sheathe my eyes with my hands. “I couldn’t tell. I’m sorry.” 

Ellie lifts my head with both of her hands and sits on her calves in front of me. She kisses the corner of my lips and pulls away. “It’s okay, Clem. Don’t worry about that right now.” 

I nod. “So… then… tell me what you were going to say.” 

She nods and drops her hands onto my shoulders, where she rubs my blades. “You remember that mall I told you about ages ago?” 

My eyes open wide and I smile. “Yes. The one you found when you went on patrol the first few times.” 

She nods. “What if I sneak you out one of these days and take you there? Just us. We can look around and make it memorable for your first time outside of Jackson?” 

I nod. I nod like a child who’s just had a tub of sweets. “Yes!” I exclaim, but quickly run a hand over my mouth. “Sorry… But yes! We should.” 

Ellie nods and kisses me one more time. “How about next Friday? Our dinner will be at 4, and we can sneak out and make it back here by midnight. They won’t even notice we’re gone–they’ll be drunk by eight o’clock.” 

I nod. “Okay. Deal.” 

Ellie kisses the side of my head and pulls away, crawling off my bed. She walks over to my record station and thumbs through my vinyl records. I crawl to the end of my bed and watch as she grabs one and pulls it out of its sleeve. She pulls the needle up and sets the record down. Then she places the needle back down on the record and we wait for the music to begin. 

Ellie turns and extends a hand. “Wanna dance? To get you out of your bad mood?” 

I bite down on my lips to hide my smile and nod. I take her hand and she pulls me up, almost launching me into the air. I hold onto her as she spins me around, and once we’re tired, we plop back onto my bed. 

I turn my head to her and smile because she’s already looking back at me. “I’m excited about this trip,” I whisper in case anyone is standing outside.

“Me too. I’ll make sure to make it extra special.” 

“You promise?” 

She nods. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.” 

[daughterofyourdarklord]

What are some of your headcanons for the Delphi and the Trio universe? I’m into it!

There's no easy way to say this, anon, but... I overdid it.

Please enjoy a far too detailed accounting of just some of the HC I have for this "first war alternate-universe" below:

Delphini is born in October of ‘78 - because of when her birthday falls she’s only one year above Draco and Harry Potter in school despite being closer to two years older. 

Bellatrix is barred from direct combat the day they find out about her pregnancy. She resents this, but would never refuse a direct order. She diverts her focus and leans into the dark arts heavily as a means to extend protection to their unborn heir. Calling upon the constellations, chanting blood rites, the constant brewing of obscure potions - her magic resonates with Delphini’s own, the baby responding to it long before she has taken her first breath. 

Still, Bella is an asset in strategy. She’ll show up to meetings with ancient runes stitched up her neck and down her fingers, blood from a recent sacrifice trailing on her robes. One day, her curses run so dark her eyes shift completely black for an entire week. The death eaters are lost somewhere between horrified and awed.

Dark magic is a constant in Delphini’s life since infancy. Ancient runes scrawled across new skin in blood, cursed objects perfectly placed for her protection, bewitched portraits lining the walls of her nursery. She finds comfort in it since before she can remember. 

Her parents are horribly busy for most of her early life but they still manage time to see her. The Dark Lord had established what is closest to His permanent residency in LeStrange Estates, a whole wing of the castle dedicated just to Him. Delphi and her mother spend the most time there. 

Rather than leaving Delphini with her sister, Bellatrix whisks her away to the Blacks just before she is arrested. They take her to the Ministry to ensure there's record of her so she can enlist at Hogwarts. There’s not. “She belongs to all of you?” Walburga, Cygnus and Druella glare back at the Ministry worker imploringly. “Yes.” Her blood runs Black and one test is more than enough proof, it’s not protocol to question a magical child’s parentage. 

The loss of both of her parents so suddenly is devastating. At night Delphini dreams of them, both of them, alone - scared, searching for each other. Delphini hurts just the same, it’s a constant state of free fall. She can’t help but feel like it’s her job to save them both.  

Of course, she gravitates towards Walburga. Something about the matriarch feels the most familiar, like she can almost pretend. The little witch will never fill the hole permanently cut into her great aunt’s heart but it feels slightly less raw in her presence. 

Delphini’s first year at Hogwarts will be Nymphadora’s last. When the Black’s take her to Diagon Alley they run into Andromeda. They ignore her completely despite the other witches and wizards leaping out of their way in anticipation for rivers of cataclysmic magic. She looks like Bellatrix and for a moment Delphini aches. She doesn’t know it but Andromeda is thinking the same thing.

Ollivander looks at her curiously. Yew, Dragon-heartstring, eleven and a half inches, unyielding. Very interesting. 

Before the start of her first year her Uncle Lucius has a gift for her. “It was your father’s.” He explains as he hands her the diary, the binding of it is soft and worn, the magic radiating off of it feels oh so familiar. Delphini is thrilled, it is one of the first things she uses when she gets to the castle. The pages are blank, until they are not. 

[triforce-of-mischief]

I couldn’t remember all the emoji’s but can I get trypanophobic💰+✌🏻(blood draw?)

And can the reader’s relationship be somewhere in between 🤝 and 💖? Like soft and physically contact but without kissing or anything associated with sexual attraction? (Asexual friendly)

Hugging, shoulder touching, back rubs/ pats/ soothing, hand holding is fine <3

Thank you so much for the request! Hope you enjoy! 💜

💛 Anon requested that Ravio has difficulties with his procedure.

💛 Anon requested that Ravio throws up.

💛 Anon requested that Reader calls Ravio заяц which is a Russian term of endearment translating to "bunny rabbit". Pronounced "ziats", rhyming with "bias" with the addition of the "t".

💛 Reblogs appreciated along with likes and comments!

💛 You can request your own scenario here!

💛 Content under the cut!

From the moment you step inside the building, Ravio is a bundle of anxiety and fear. You have to grab his shoulders and manually guide him over to the front desk so you can get him checked in. The poor bunny almost trips on his own locked knees as you walk to the room where the provider will be drawing his blood.

“Give me a few minutes to prepare, then we can get started. Please make yourself comfortable in the meantime,” the provider says from where they are setting out equipment.

You let your hands fall from Ravio’s shoulders and grab his hand. “Doing okay, заяц?” you ask softly, even though you know the answer.

Ravio squeezes your hand back, gripping tighter every time he spots something new. His eyes dart every which way, taking in the boxes of bandages and gloves on the counter, the two chairs lining the opposite wall, the sharps bin full of discarded syringes. His breathing comes out in stutters and gasps, and he squeaks, “No!”

You immediately pull him into a hug so he can stop looking for a moment. “Hey, I’m going to be here the whole time. Remember what we talked about. Take deep breaths, make sure you don’t look, and think about what I told you we’re gonna do after.”

Ravio hiccups then mumbles, “You said we can go to the market and I can get whatever I want?”

“That’s right! Remind me what you want me to buy?” you prompt, leading him to the chair and dragging the other right next to his.

“A new bell for the shop door… a-and some premium treats for Sheerow…” Ravio says, squirming in his seat. “And maybe some-” His words freeze in his throat as he glances at the provider, who has finished setting up.

“Hey, Ravio.”

His ear flicks back, gaze still set on the medical equipment.

“Look at me, please?”

He does, and you reach out and wipe a tear from his cheek. Your fingers spread to cup his face and he leans into your touch as your thumb smooths over already-tearstained skin.

“Focus on me, okay?” you tell him.

“All right, are we ready to begin?” the provider asks, the question making Ravio flinch.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” you say, smiling at the provider. You try to ignore Ravio’s wide eyes silently begging for more time to delay.

“Very good. Tell me, Ravio, have you ever had problems during a test before?”

“This is his first time,” you answer for him.

“I see. Well then, would you like me to tell you what I’m doing before each step?”

Ravio whimpers and closes his eyes. Still cradling his face with one hand, you grab his dominant hand with your free one.

“I think it would be better if you don’t, please,” you say, watching Ravio’s reaction. When no argument comes, you nod to the provider.

They tie a tourniquet above Ravio’s elbow and clean his inner arm with a sanitizing wipe before feeling for a vein. He startles at the contact and tries to move his head and look, but you hold him in place, making sure he keeps facing you.

“You’ll make it harder on yourself if you look, заяц. Listen to me…” You keep up a steady stream of soft chatter, encouraging Ravio to focus on you and not the current situation. You pause a few times to answer the provider’s questions when they locate an ideal vein and explain the next steps using minimal detail.

“Deep breath, Ravio, like me,” you say, timing your example as you see the provider angle the needle towards the unsuspecting merchant’s arm.

Ravio yelps as the needle enters, thankfully not attempting to yank free of the provider’s grip. He squeezes your hand, face scrunched up in discomfort as the provider fiddles with the placement of the needle. After a few moments of experimenting, they pull the needle out and replace it with a sterile one.

“Don’t worry, it’s normal to take more than one try,” the provider assures you and Ravio.

Tears are flowing freely down Ravio’s face as the provider goes through two more sticks, each time having difficulty in their attempts to pierce the vein. You murmur and hush Ravio’s cries, squeezing his hand back whenever he feels another prick of pain. He grows paler, barely noticeable but still visibly so, and his hiccups turn into desperate gulps for air.

“It’s the vein,” the provider explains, preparing yet another new needle. “You may have some symptoms of dehydration or even malnutrition, Ravio. These problems often cause your veins to weaken, making them harder to keep in place for procedures.”

“That’s important to know. We’ll have to keep an eye on that,” you say. Ravio only lets out a strained whine.

The provider finally manages to insert the needle into the stubborn vein and you see Ravio’s blood begin to drain through the tube.

“You’re doing well, заяц! Now we just have to wait. How are you feeling?” you ask, noticing his overexaggerated steady breathing and eyes shut tight.

“Nnn… I think I’m gonna…” Ravio gasps, “Be sick-”

Before the provider can even move, you jump up and dart over to the counter, grabbing a small bin you noticed earlier. You place it on Ravio’s lap right before he loses the battle with nausea. He vomits into the bin, intermittent sobs breaking your heart as all you can do is rub his back and wait it out.

Thankfully, the spell passes before long. You set the bin aside so neither of you have to see or smell the sick. You’ll have to bring Ravio to the restroom later so he can clean up, but for now, you settle for holding him as closely as you can without jostling his arm. Your fingers reach up to play with his hair, gentle and careful to soothe without pulling at his sensitive scalp.

“I know, I’m sorry for all the pain you had to go through today,” you whisper, looking around him to check how much blood has been drawn. Good, it seems like he is almost done. “You’ve been so brave, my заяц, and you only have a few minutes more.”

True to your word, you barely have to wait before the provider slides the needle from Ravio’s arm and binds it with cotton and gauze. They instruct you to wait in the room until enough time has passed for Ravio to safely stand. Ravio shudders, exhausted from the stress of the procedure, and leans heavily against you.

“You’re all done now,” you assure him, giving him a smile that he is too tired to return. “And once we get out of here, the market awaits!”

[apoptoses]

“Here is a secret little story he tells Daniel” please I’m STILL recovering from the Friday Night Riccardo feels and now THIS 😮‍💨 Amadeo getting drunk off his ass at the pub with Riccardo and having him be his first “real” kiss feels so true to both of them and what they meant to each other and how Armand has carried his memory to the present day by bringing up this story to his forever lover pleaaaase. I feel like you live in my brain because emotionally charged road trips? Life changing experiences with your twin flame on the road? The fact that every time I watch the MVs for Aerosmith’s Crazy and Arctic Monkeys’ Suck It And See I can only picture Armand and Daniel (tho Lestat is always the one doing the stripping scene in the Crazy strip club sequence). This feels like a prophecy fulfilled. And set during the PL era after their reunion? You’re a fucking GIFT 🥹 xoxo DA

Oh Dungeon Anon, how convenient that you show up just as I'm working on something relevant to your smutty interests!

Lestat stripping in the Crazy video is my new favorite thing, I'm obsessed. You know that man went to strip clubs while he was in his little glam rock band, got his band mates drunk and hopped on that pole at least once. With those tight leather pants and his vampire agility? He'd make the pros look like amateurs. Have you seen that video of the club with the 20 ft tall pole a woman goes down, gripping it with nothing but her thighs all the way to bottom? That. That is him, 100%.

But yes! Armand and Daniel! Fixing their issues, going over stories of lost love, making both of my test audience readers choke sob. You'll have it all! And you'll have this too, Vampire!Daniel getting it on via Armand biting his throat and filling his head with illusions while they're mind connected:

Yes, there it was, it was back. He was back in London-Venice-New York with a real cock inside him, Armand’s cock, that he was forced to keep so deep inside him he could barely thrust. All Armand could do was rub little maddening circles in him as he rolled his hips.

Daniel snuck his hand between them. Pressed down on his stomach and imagined he could feel Armand moving inside him, moaned when Armand caught up with his ideas and made it feel as though he really could. His cock bumped Daniel’s palm through the soft wall of his stomach over and over until he sobbed with it.

Armand wedged his hand in between their bodies too and toyed with his dick. He was soft. He was hard. He was so thirsty and so close to orgasm he was out of his head and shaking with it. Daniel rested his sweat soaked forehead on Armand’s shoulder, not caring that the blood would stain his shirt, and let himself go pliant as Armand jacked him off. 

In life he’d gone crazy when Armand had rubbed the sensitive skin below the tip of his dick. In death, in the illusion it was the same. A strangely warm thumb rubbing up and down until his muscles drew tight within him. He could hear the pound of Armand’s heart, the rush of his blood right beneath his mouth. He was like a bow with the string running from his mouth to his cock, overdrawn until he was ready to snap.

“Please, I can’t take it, please.”

Come, lover. Come for me.

Daniel’s hips stuttered uselessly into Armand’s hand. His fangs were buried in his shoulder before he could even finish his command.

As a mortal he’d been given the pleasure of coming and drinking from Armand in tandem hundreds of times. Every time he had thought this was it, it doesn’t get any better than this. As a mortal, he’d been so goddamned wrong. Armand’s illusion-memory-fantasy ratcheted the feeling of orgasm up to eleven. Into a full bodied thing that didn’t just involve his dick but every inch of him, that made his mouth prickle and burn as it pulsed through him. Each wave of it hit with each swallow of Armand’s blood until Daniel was flying with it.  Until his vision was gone and all he could see was liquid gold and red flowing through him, into his veins and under his skin.

Happy smutty Sunday! xoxo

[imakemywings]

Of Bliss and Glad Life There is Little to be Said

Fandom: Tolkien

Characters: Daeron, Luthien

Pairing: Daeron/Luthien

Summary: Luthien desires to test the stamina of her favorite minstrel; Daeron obliges her.

AN: De-anon from the kink meme for @polutrope

Visual aid for Daeron’s tattoos

AO3 | Pillowfort

______________________________________________________

           Daeron’s back hit the pillows, his chest rising and falling as if he’d just run a mile. Overhead, his eyes dizzily traced the root-like wooden patterns on the ceiling and picked out the stars painted in between. Usually, at such a time, he would speak, but he found his brain was not quite cooperating in the “coherent thought” department yet. It was possible something was broken.

           There was a light laugh and a little humming to his right, and Luthien rolled onto her belly and reached for his hand, lifting it to press his fingers against her lips.

           “Have I worn you down now, Daeron?” she asked.

           “I…shan’t concede yet,” he panted, turning his head. “Although I might plead mercy from my princess.” Luthien grinned her sharp-toothed grin and nipped at his fingertips. Usually she was gentle enough not to draw blood, but when she wasn’t, she did apologize a great deal for it.

           “Hm…I will consider it,” she said. “I know how terribly disappointed Ada would be if I damaged you.” Her grin widened, and was not unlike the look of a wolf prowling about its dinner, but she only leaned in and pecked his lips. “You are terribly delicate, Daeron.”

           “Princess…I believe we have well-established the role your mother’s blood plays in this,” Daeron objected, finding it monstrously unfair that he should have to try to defend himself when he wasn’t quite sure his heart was still beating as it should.

           “No, I think you are uncommonly delicate, even for an Elf,” she said.

           “My sincerest and most abased apologies, if I have disappointed my princess,” he said, lifting his eyes to Luthien’s glittering gray gaze.

           “Not at all,” she relented, nibbling at one of his fingers before she leaned over and kissed his chest, tracing her thumb along the faint scar along the base of his breast. “I am very well pleased. You spoil me, Daeron.” With a flurry of pale limbs and ink-black hair, she swung herself over his lap, caught his wrists, and pinned his arms down to the mattress. “I enjoy your delicacy.” Light danced in her almond-shaped eyes and it could not be but the light of the Ainur and Daeron was knocked breathless again. Sometimes he thought Luthien did that on purpose. “Is not the beauty of the blossom in part in its softness and tenderness?”

           “I am a blossom, now?”

           “A flower of the court of Doriath!” she declared.

           “I believe that is you, princess.”

           “Can a court not have more than a single bloom?” she said. “Are we not a garden?” She rocked her hips and Daeron groaned.

           “Princess…”

           “Minstrel,” she countered pointedly. “Play something for me, Daeron.”

           “Perhaps I cannot,” he said.

           “Ah, then I have got the best of you!” she declared. “If you are too tired to play!” Chagrined, Daeron shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching with a smile.

           “How you impugn my honor!” He pushed her off, which he knew happened only because she wished it, and was pleased to find his muscles would still bear him to his feet. Their love nest was, as was common among the treetop residences of the Doriathrim who lived outside the walls of Menegroth, directly on the floor. A thick round cushion served at the lucky mattress for their coupling and the many pillows and blankets made useful tools for keeping warm when the weather turned, and keeping comfortable in a variety of positions.

           Now, though, the warmth of summer lingered still, even as the leaves turned to autumn gold, so Daeron threw open the doors to the balcony so it could join the adjacent windows in beaming down yellow sunlight on them. The forest blew in a breeze with just a hint of brisk chill, which made goosebumps momentarily shiver across Daeron’s exposed skin.

           “What should you like to hear this time, princess?” he asked, turning back, bracing himself for the sight of Luthien dappled in sunlight among the disheveled bedding, which made him feel the very earth beneath his feet swayed.

           “I wish to hear whatever will please you most,” she said.

           So Daeron reached for one of his reed pipes, which remained ever his favorite, no matter how many fine and exotic instruments were pressed into his hands with Thingol and Melian’s best wishes or the admiration of visitors from afar. Nothing, he told Luthien, was easier to carry up to the tops of the trees than a nice flute or a set of pipes, and few things surpassed the view over the top of the forest. One of those things he looked at now.

           He returned to the bed and sat beside the princess of Doriath and Luthien gazed on him with her strange eyes, which seemed to see somehow more than he could, and smiled. She stretched out, tucking a pillow beneath her chest, which made him briefly envious of a linen, and tilted her head to the side, dark hair falling over her shoulder. Daeron paused to smile at her, which made her own widen, and she lifted her chin with a look that was her sign to let him know she was listening.

           Daeron sat cross-legged and put the pipes to his lips. It was a high, flowing tune, with a jaunty chorus that suited his present mood, and by the time he reached the third verse the ferns on the sills were waving, as if in appreciation of this serenade. Luthien leaned in and kissed his thigh. Daeron did not stop, but he did look down somewhat reproachfully at her. Was he not playing for her own request?

           But Luthien was never deterred by Daeron’s reproach. Rather, to his frequent dismay, it seemed to have the opposite effect. She grinned against his bare thigh and kissed him again, needling him with her teeth. Daeron tweeted emphatically on the pipe, between the notes of the song he was playing, and Luthien responded by throwing her arms about his waist and kissing his stomach instead, which was worse.

           “Luthien,” he objected at last.

           “I have not asked for you to stop,” she said, but Luthien was ever poor at sounding stern. There was too often an undercurrent of laughter and playfulness in her voice that deflated anything near the commanding presence either of her parents wielded.

           Daeron tsked, but put the pipes to his lips again. Luthien nuzzled against his stomach and to no grand surprise of Daeron’s, her attention went lower two verses later. It was really, truly, horribly unfair that he should have to focus on his silly piping when Luthien’s lips were on his cock, even if he were still tired from their last union. He told her this with his eyes when she looked up, but she ever delighted in tormenting him and rather than relent, she rolled back among the pillows and slid her hand between her legs, pressing her fingers into the black thatch of hair below her belly. The other hand cupped her breast and circled a finger around a dun nipple, her un-Elven eyes fixed on him. She was really awfully unfair.

           “Go on, minstrel mine,” she breathed, the sunlight dancing off her eyes. “How beautifully you play for me…” He could see her fingers move deeper and, unable to make voice to this sight, a flush spread across his cheekbones.

           Birds beyond the window whistled along, mimicking the tune of Daeron’s pipes as he played on, and Luthien’s dark eyelashes fluttered as her hand worked with more vigor; her teeth sank into her lower lip, and she continued frequently to look up at him as she squirmed beside him, her glances both a torture and the only thing that kept him going.

           “How sweet your breath, Daeron,” she said and he could see the tension coiling and rolling in her body as she stroked herself towards a finish. “You must be the finest musician ever counted among the Eldar.”

           Daeron eased into another song, deeper, more soulful, and Luthien let out a low moan, clenching her fingers. Now he faced her full-on, holding her gaze unwaveringly as he played, watching the trembling of her lips and seeing from the corner of his eye the jerking of her hips as her need began to overpower her. Daeron let his notes reach one small crescendo, and then a slightly fiercer one, and again, and again, until Luthien was gasping and crying out, reaching for him with her free hand, shuddering against the pillows. Knowing her delight in wringing multiple peaks from her body in a row, he shifted to kneel between her legs, putting aside the pipes and allowing his voice to pick up where they had left off as he reached his own tattooed hand to take the place of hers.

           Luthien’s head fell back, her lips parted, her moans drawn-out and sweeter than any note Daeron had ever played throughout the years of his life. His hand worked her without mercy, as that was her preference, and he could feel the twitching of her muscles as he pushed her body further for its pleasure. He would not allow his voice to tremble when he sang for her then; he would not give Luthien less than his best, and it was only when he heard the tell-tale deep-throated moan rattling through her chest that signaled her finishing again, preceding the clenching of her muscles by fractions of a second, that he allowed his melody to taper off.

           “I would beg to disagree, princess,” he said softly, easing his hand, slick with her fluid, away as he leaned down to kiss her pale belly. “Your music is finer by far than anything of my clumsy hand.”

           “Tch! We must disagree on this,” she said, snapping her heavily-lidded eyes back open, far quicker to catch her breath than he had been. “However, I believe we may agree on another point.”

           “Yes? What is that, my princess?” Daeron asked, stretching out over her, enjoying the warm wetness of her sex against his stomach, and having her breasts in kissing range.

           “That together, we make the best music of Elfinesse,” she declared. Daeron laughed and pressed his lips against her sternum, his feet wriggling contentedly amongst the bedding.

           “Yes, to that I will gladly agree,” he said, smiling at her when he lifted his head. Luthien grinned back and beckoned him up. He came as bade, and she rolled him onto his side so they faced one another.

           “Now…we really must make plans for our outing. With Ada and Nana back from their summer vacation, we are no longer needed to maintain the court—”

           “You maintain the court,” Daeron corrected. “I provide a charming and uniquely skilled musical backdrop for your efforts.” If he occasionally began piping over someone whose foolish words were irritating the princess, he considered that part of his contribution.

           “Nevertheless,” Luthien said, “we will need to go quickly, or it will be too cold for swimming, and we really must go swimming, Daeron. That is a requirement.” Too cold for him, she meant. He did not doubt Luthien would crack the ice over a January river and dive in anyway, nor did he necessarily anticipate she wouldn’t drag him with her.

           “I agree,” he said seriously. Unable to feign for more than half a heartbeat that she was offended by his teasing, that impish smile flashed across Luthien’s face again.

           “And you will bring your pipes, of course,” she said.

           “Now that is a requirement.” If Luthien had wished to make extensive plans with him that day, he thought she would have done better not to ride him so hard before. His eyelids were growing too heavy to think as much as he ought about the practical necessities of a trip abroad in the forest.

It was only when his eyes actually closed for a few moments that Luthien tsked quietly.

“Ah, my poor minstrel, I have worn you out at last, haven’t I?” she said. She took one of his long-fingered hands and kissed his fingers again, rubbing her thumb over one of the spidery tattoos on his index finger as Daeron pried his eyelids open again.

           “I’m listening,” he objected drowsily. Luthien giggled.

           “Oh, rest, my Daeron,” she said. “I will make plans and when you wake you will tell me what I have forgotten.” She leaned in and kissed him between the eyes. “Sleep,” she murmured.

           “Is this a command from my princess?” he asked, his eyes already sliding shut again.

           “No,” she said. “Only a request, from one who loves you.” There was a warmth that spread through his breast like the rising of the sun, sweeping out to every inch of his bare body. He hoped she would stay a while, even though he would not in his waking mind, know if she had or not.

           “Yes, Luthien,” he mumbled, and indeed he did not know that she stayed stroking his hair for some time after he had lapsed into unconsciousness, deciding on how long she could get away with stealing away her father’s favorite minstrel from court. After all, did she not also have need of Daeron?

[dreamersparacosm]

congrats on 3k!! can i request smut 19. “You better watch your fucking mouth” with austin butler please with a daddy kink if you’re comfortable with that, if not that’s fine!

you better watch your fucking mouth - austin butler

note ; ANON IM SCREAMINGGG. this prompt absolutely deserves a gold star for most horniest saying ⭐️ fighting words right there. i just feel like austin saying this in a deep voice would send me over a literal cliff

warnings ; daddy kink, cursing, smoochy

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

now, why you were in a room with the person you hated the most was a question for a later date. the simple answer? austin butler was your discourteous, spiteful, conceited co-star who believed everything just fell into his lap because of his charm and good looks. realistically, it did. he grew up being told he would be a heartbreaker one day, and in a way, he was. he played everyone’s crush on disney and nickelodeon television shows (including yours, but you wouldn’t admit it) and when you became an actress, of course, your first breakout role would be with him.

for some godforsaken reason, baz luhrmann believed there was an ounce of chemistry between you two during a table read, and announced you as priscilla presley and austin as elvis presley. you two did well at first, keeping a professional manner at all times. that is, until you heard him call you a slut behind closed doors to one of the production assistants.

you weren’t sure what prompted him to believe you were a raunchy adultress, but you took that with you everytime the cameras began to roll. he must have caught on to your bitterness, and decided to never speak to you outside of the confines of the set. that arrangement worked well: for just about three months. apparently, it was hard to feign chemistry with someone when you wanted to rip each other’s throats out.

and, that was how you ended up with your original question: you two were currently sat in an office, baz running over the lines for the romantic kiss scene you had been dreading to film. austin tried to maintain a smile on his face, but you looked downright miserable, and baz was doing everything he could to ignore it.

just when you thought it couldn’t get worse, baz suggested, “why don’t we do a test run of the kiss? just to, ya know, see it in action?”

you blinked twice, watching as austin smirked out of the corner of your eye. it took all your might to not reach over and slam his head into the nearby office desk. you nodded, leaning forward in your chair, “look, baz, could i have a moment alone with austin here? just need to run over something quickly.”

baz’s expression switched to utter confusion as you kindly smiled, hoping he wouldn’t see the red that flashed behind your eyes. austin shifted uncomfortably beside you as your director agreed to leave the room, leaving you and austin alone. the sound of the clock ticking rang in your ears like a siren, silence washing over the walls as you two sat there.

“you know, i like this less than you do,” you started.

he scoffed, “not possible.”

“listen, we can either get it over with, or we can redo it fifty million times until we’re blue in the face.”

“yeah, i bet you’d like that,” he snorted, avoiding eye contact as well as he possibly could, despite being a measly 5 inches away from you.

“what is that supposed to mean?” your tone rose an octave as your blood burnt through your skin.

“it means, that i bet you’re so fucking eager to make out with anyone,” he finally turned to look at you, his eyes meeting yours in rage.

“what is wrong with you — you have been on my back since i got here! why don’t you just tell me what your fucking problem is before i tell everyone about how you cry yourself to sleep because you’re homesick?”

that seemed to push about just every button for him. his body leaned towards you, exhaling heavily through his nostrils. “what did you just —“

“you’re a fucking narcissist, that’s what it is. you just want alllll the power so you can be the star —“

“you better watch your fucking mouth,” he sneered at you, his breath waning over your face as he migrated even closer to your burning body.

“bet you wish i did—“ you pressed on, your nose mere inches away from his. you didn’t want to look at him for a second longer, but the pull of his energy was enough to keep you reeled in. you couldn’t move. your whole body fell limp as his eyes traveled from your eyes down to your lips. you fought to think of things you could say that would further piss him off, knowing that there might be one thing that could set him off over the edge. “—daddy.”

before you had a chance to say another snide remark, his lips crashed onto yours, a collision of teeth and tongues. your brain couldn’t even form a coherent thought as his teeth grazed across your bottom lip, your hand reaching out to entangle itself within his hair. you were on fire, your body defying what your brain was telling you. the need for air was the only reason you two pulled away from each other, and you moved away as far as you possibly could from him. he wiped his lips on the back of his hand, looking at you with little regard, “yeah, i think we’ve got the kiss down pat.”

and with that, he left the room, leaving you and your drenched panties behind.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

join the celebration here!

[arcade-writing]

Really loved « just a bite » with vampire Silco !!! Are you going to write more about Vampire Silco?

My Lord

🍋NSFW

pairing: Vampire! Silco x reader

Warning: religious kink, religious themes, somewhat corruption kink, blood drinking, degrading, praise kink, dirty talk, lots of cum, blowjobs, oral, fingering, vaginal sex, readers first time, horny silco

I am normal about this fic. I totally haven't stayed up until 3 am writing this and haven't been freaking over my writing. Totally. 100%

It's been awhile since I've wrote for arcane so my characterization skills are abit rusty but this is purely self indulgent so 🤷

The fic anon is speaking about: here

Im sure any of you who still lurk on my blog (thank you) know the situation - AFAB reader but gender isn't discussed!

With one last whisper on your breath, you felt the gentle hands of your godessss leave your. Leaving her everlasting glow to warm your chest and your eyes finally opened.

For what you were praying for was s omething that made your cheeks glow. Asking for forgiveness for the thoughts that have swarmed your mind. The desires that burned in your gut ever since you grew accustom to this castle and who owned it. Yes, something was stirring inside you couldn't truly grasp.

The whole reason you were here was to purify it's brick walls. Allowing your goddesses light to shine through its dark halls. To be rid of the monsters that lurked within but no matter what you did. He didn't go away.

No, he came closer. Tempting you. Inviting you into the shadows with light touches. Alluring words and brushing his lips against your neck. Something you always kept covered for this reason.

With a shake of your head, you began to turn Spotting the very man that caused these wants to awaken. He was lounging in a nearby chair, glancing up at you as he swirled a now empty chalice. One leg was propped up on the arm whilst the other was semi stretched out against the floor.

"I didn't hear you come in." You spoke up, still flushed as you didn't move from your spot.

"That's the point." Silco chuckled, it sounded bitter on its edges.

"Do you need something? I'll try to do what I can-"

"“Play with me.”

Silco suddenly stood up. His long legs easily striding over whilst you scrambled backwards. Lifting yourself up with a stumble. Your body now caged between the fire place and his. Your knees buckling from kneeling for so long and a very different reason.

"Let's play a game, humour me if you will."

"Alright....what's the game?" You raise a brow, hesitating to speak as you stared up at him.

"I want to test your will and my own, a little bit of torture between friends."

A smirk was clear on his lips. A flash of his fangs peaking from his lips making your breath hitch.

"But- i-" You gulped, ees lowering as you nodded. "If it'll please you..."

"Look at me."

Silco knew he shouldn't be using this voice with you. It was much deeper than usual, gruff and cold. But he wanted to scare you a little, get you jumping and stammering like you usually did. What he didn't expect was to see your eyes shimmering back at him. Lips parted ever so slightly, as you looked at him with such need. Yearning clear on your face as you kept yourself pressed to the fireplace.

It seems the torture has already begun. Silco clenched his fists, moving his arms higher from the fireplace. His hand slamming to the wall by your head whilst the other gripped at the edge of the fireplaces top. The vampire felt a rush of blood travel down. Biting back a groan at the your expression. How obvious your feelings were, wearing them so clearly without even knowing it.

"Just let me touch you." His voice came out as a whisper. You didn't say anything but he watched the subtle arch of your back. Trying to press yourself closer.

He lowered his head, letting out a victorious breath as he could finally feel the skin of your neck. The nightgown you were wearing was too baggy for you, leaving it to hang by your shoulders. You didn't even realize until you felt his teeth just graze over your throat.

He could feel your speeding pulse against his tongue. Slowly dragging it along as your body slowly began to relax.

You couldn't believe you were doing this. So easily you accepted his touch. His game. You knew what he wanted, what he was trying to do and yet you still said yes. Wanting to hide your desperation by acting dismissive but apart of you could sense he could see right through you. He knew you wanted this as much as he did.

"It's okay, little dove, this will feel good."

"I shouldn't-"

"You wanted to play, didn't you? I am testing you." He began to suck on your neck. Giving it kitten licks Inbetween as your eyelids began to flutter. A soft moan slipping from your lips.

"Good pets taste the sweetest, you want to taste good, right? Just let me drink from you, little dove, I'll make all that need disappear."

"W-what do you mean?"

You both knew what he meant.

"How about I fuck it into you, hm? You want that?" You held back a noise as your knees buckled more. Making you look even smaller to the man.

"I need to hear you say yes, I won't do anything unless you invite me in."

His voice was right by your ear. He didn't move, just watching you under his eyelash. Your lips trembled as your brain screamed at you to stop. To push him away and lock yourself away, what you normally did when his temptations became too much. You were supposed to be a person following the Holy light. A worshipper of everything good.

But here stands the embodiment of darkness itself. Ready to swallow you whole and sink you into the very pits of the abyss. Drown you in pleasures you'd only dream of.

You couldn't stop the words coming from your mouth. "Take me as you want... please, Silco."

The vampire lowered himself, making him eye level with you as he reached his slender hand up your nightgown. Trailing his fingers along your warm skin. He felt like ice. A slight sting came with each drag of his fingers just from how drastic the temperature was between you. Hovering over your arousal. Searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort or fear. But there was only that pleading look again. Silently begging him to keep going. To take control.

You meant what you said.

His fingers hooked your underwear to the side as he pushed a digit between your folds. Groaning as he felt how wet you were getting. Still shy from what was needed but he didn't mind taking his time. Silcos lips returned to your neck. Sucking on the same spot from before as you let out small breathy moans.

You let out a choked yelp as you felt him rub against him. Collecting as much slick as he could before rubbing your clit in tight circles.

"This will only hurt for a second."

You doubted you could even speak. Your tongue felt like cotton in your mouth, your face burning. But you wouldn't be given time to ask regardless, his teeth breaking through your skin in a sharp prick of pain. His tongue still licking where he could to keep you numb.

Your head rolled back, keeping you propped up by the fireplace as he pushed his a finger inside. Slowly thrusting it in and out until he could go knuckles deep. Your neck felt warm. Just processing the small trickle of blood trailing down as he greedily sucked. Groaning as he sunk his fangs in deeper.

It wasn't long before he could push in another finger. Your hips bucking at all the pressure. His thumb still working circles on your clit as he fingered you. The feeling of his lips melding against your throat. The fuzzy feeling his saliva offered. The burning heat that sparked through your veins as you let out another moan.

Your body jolted as he suddenly picked up his pace. You grabbed at his shoulders as he grunted. His fingers scissoring you between furious thrusts. His sucking becoming overly sloppy as he had his fill. Prying himself away as he licked the left over blood.

He panted as he nuzzled his face against your jaw. Letting out a breathy laugh as you whimpered. "You spend so much time on your knees I'm sure what I have in store for you will be easy." He teased, letting out a cruel chuckle.

"How about you pray for forgiveness whilst you suck on my cock, letting a vampire feed on you and finger as you moan like a needy slut."

Silco removed his fingers from you. Moving your underwear back in place as he gave your sex a small slap. You whined at the impact. Your body finally giving out, falling to your knees as you looked up at the man. Hands shaking as you clasped your hands together.

"Please...I'll do it."

The man leaned down for a moment. Nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he whispered. "If anything I do or say makes you uncomfortable or want to stop, tell me and I will."

You felt your body loosen as you nodded. Just catching the soft look he was giving you before It went back to a hardened glare. The coal haired man smirked as he started to unbuckle his pants, trying to hide the growing annoyance at how elaborate it was.

Once he could free himself, you slightly backed up. Stunned by the mere size of it. You've seen the human anatomy many times from books and your travels to the wounded but this - this was something else. A long strip of hair trailed down from his bellybutton to his cock. It was beautiful. What it lacked in girth, though wasn't the skinniest penis you've seen, it made up completely in length.

"Keep your hands together, you're praying, remember?"

You didn't need to be told another time. Forcing your hands clasped tight as you leaned forward. Unsure what to do, looking back up at the man for guidance. The cock felt heavy against your cheek.

"Need guidance, little dove?"

You nodded. "Yes, tell me what to do." Your voice was breathless as Silco grabbed at your head, tugging it back.

"Open your mouth, just suck on the head."

You did just that. Feeling your cheeks puff out as you took in the head, sucking on it as it weighed down on your tongue. Silco groaned as he tried to resist all temptation. He'll be merciful for now. "Good pet, that's it."

You immediately perked at the praise. Happy to know you was doing well. After a few more sucks you were pulled off his cock.

"Now, let's hear that prayer, go on, beg for forgiveness."

"Dear Goddess above, to the spirit of our word and the light that shines down upon us, forgive me for falling to temptation-"

Before you could continue his cock was shoved past your parted lips. Jumping in surprise as Silco slowly began to thrust in and out. Keeping his thrusts small to not overwhelm you too much.

"Keep going, I need to know you really mean It."

You did your best trying to speak. Choking on your words as they only grew more muffled. The thrusts becoming bigger and more harsh as you gagged. Tears pricking your eyes, your nails digging into your knuckles. Only a meek 'please' was heard before you moaned. Drool dripping down your chin as tears streamed down. Licking sheepishly at the cock in your Mouth as your mouth was getting fucked. The vampire couldn't stop watching; fixated on the scene before him. Watching your body shake, trying desperately to keep your hands together. Doing your best to take what you could into your mouth.

You let out a whine as your head was yanked back, the man's cock hovering over your parted lips. Drool connecting you to it as it dripped slightly in pre-cum.

"Keep that mouth open, tongue out."

Following every order you kept let the drool drip off the pink muscle. Watching in awe as Silco began to pump his cock.

"Keep praying, dove, then you'll get your reward."

"Please forgive me, I am devoted to you, I need you to forgive me, I'll be so good, please-" all your words turned to whiny pleas as you watched the man Infront of you get closer to his release. Silco couldn't stop the grunts that escaped him as he began to squeeze along his shaft.

His hand quickening along with your pleas. He let out a loud groan as his cum squirted on across your face. Caking your nose and cheek with white ropes whilst most of it fell on your tongue. You hummed at the salty taste, it wasn't unpleasant, warmer than you expected.

Silco bite his lip as he watched his cum drip down from his cock, you immediately adjusted yourself so it went into your mouth. Trying to get every last drop. His hand slammed on the fireplace wall as he guided his cock back into your mouth. Letting you lick up what was left of his cum.

"So good, you're doing so good." He cupped your face, stroking your cheeks. He kept himself standing there. Catching his breath as he felt warmth spread to his cheeks. Eyes growing hazy as he kept petting your face.

"Have I pleased you, my lord?" Your voice caught him off guard, you kept his cock against your cheek. Lowering your clasped hands into your lap.

The title caught him by surprise. Only his servants called him that. He blinked down at you with his good eye. His golden eye stuck in a constant stare. His lips formed into a large grin as he felt himself twitch.

"Yes, I'm going to reward you handsomely, my precious pet." He moved back, slowly taking off his shirt, untieing it's string before throwing it off. He moved to the bed as he kicked off his trousers and boots and his briefs too.

You remained where you were. Unsure what to do.

"Come here, I need to prep you." He patted his thigh as he curled his fingers towards you.

You began to crawl towards him, making Silcos hands clench into fists. Accepting the his hands as you were lifted from the floor and to his lap.

"Do you want this off or on?" The man asked, balling the light fabric above the your hips. You thought for a few moments before placing your hands on his, keeping them in place.

"On, please."

"Of course, my lovely." He guided you to the bed. Lowering you on it as he kept the fabric pushed up, revealing your sex to the cold air.

You didn't dare to watch as you felt the vampires lips trail up your thigh. Slender hands squeezing at your hips. Your eyes glued to the ceiling as you gulped. Jumping as his nose nuzzled into your folds, only peeking down to see Silco squeezing your thighs closer to his head as he licked a long strip up to your clit.

You couldn't stop it, letting out a sharp gasp, back arching as you gripped at the bedsheets. Silco held nothing back, kissing up until he wrapped his lips around your clit. Sucking on it as he lapped at it. The attention made your legs shake as you melwed.

Squirming as he hungrily sucked. Wet slurping filled the room as he left open mouth kisses back down to your folds. His nose brushing against your bud making you grind against it. Finding it perfect size as he prodded his tongue inside.

"Oh-! Yes! That feels- feels so good-!"

Your hands found it's way in his hair. Tangling your fingers through it as you kept grinding yourself against the bump of his nose. His fingers joining his tongue as he resumed fingering you.

"You taste devine - every part of you." Silco took in a sharp inhale, burying his face in your thigh as he bit down. Just enough to draw some blood but not enough to drink.

"Lord- please - I need your mouth-"

You don't know where this was coming from. Whining as you tugged at his head. He parted from your thigh with a wet pop. Looking up at you. His lips and chin shining from your wetness.

"Everytime you call me lord it seems as if you are referring to a god." He mused. Ignoring your distressed noise as he hovered over you. "Am I your God this evening? Are you going to pray for my cock?"

His cock brushed along your inner thigh. Kissing your sex making you twitch. Small beads of tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you looked up at him.

"Please Lord- put it inside me, consume me, I'm yours."

He grabbed your chin. Slowly dragging his tongue along his teeth as he lined himself up against you.

"Oh sweet pet, I'm going to ruin you, making you cry as I fuck every thought from that pretty little head, no real god can save you but I'm here and you're going to worship every inch."

You could only nod. Your words caught in your throat as you pawed at his back. He sunk into your wet heat, groaning at how well you were accepting him. He grabbed your legs and pushed them to your chest. Hitting as deep as he could with one strong thrust.

Your body bounced, his hips snapping against yours. His lips finding your neck once more and sucked. Bruising the skin as he nibbled. The sensation of being filled over and over again had you seeing stars, the pace was brutal. Stars flickering in your eyes as you whimpered. Your voice completely lost in choked breathes.

"Taking it so easily, are you sure you're not a slut?"

"N-no! I've never -!" You were able to muster. Your moans breaking your words.

"Ah,so you're just a natural cock sleeve, so perfect for me." He cooed. Watching the way you couldn't keep your hands still. Clawing at his back and then grabbing at the sheets.

Clenching around him with every degrading word. Begging for him everytime he pulled back, trying to suck him back in. Your body needed him as much as he needed you.

"Who's your God now, little dove? Who's answering your true prayers?"

"You silco-!"

"Imagine if I send you back to that church of yours, my cum still leaking out of you, bites covering your body - what would they say?"

You whimpered. Moving your hips to try to meet him halfway. "That i'm a sinner."

You moved your head to the side. Unable to meet his knowing eyes as he chuckled. Letting out a long groan as your walls squeezed him tight.

"Oh you are, the way you feel around me is nothing but sin - so desperate for me."

Your noises were muffled, his lips crashing onto yours. His tongue slivering past your lips and swirled within your mouth. The taste of yourself making your head spin. The bitterness from your sex and the sweet iron of your blood. You shouldn't enjoy it as much as you did but it was too good.

You couldn't stop your eyes rolling back as the head of his cock slammed into your pleasure spot. Crying against his mouth as a new feeling crashed over you. A binding knot forming in your gut he kept fucking into you. Hitting that spot over and over again. His fingers finding your clit once more and rubbed at a pace just as fast and brutal as his thrusts.

Not even his lips could silence the scream you let out as your back lifted completely off the bed. A binding light flashing before your eyes as the knot snapped with a sudden rush.

Cumming hard on his cock. He let out a deep groan as he kept fucking into you. Unrelenting in the pleasure he gives as you sobbed from the overstimulating. It felt too good to stop.

"Going to fill you, claim you completely as my own-!" He grunted through gritted teeth.

Thick ropes filling your hole as he finally slowed down his thrusts. But his finger on your clit remained constant. Your whole body shook as you came once more. Gushing all over him as you heaved. Only then did he stop.

Letting his pace become sloppy as another orgasm was ripped from him. Much weaker than the first but more sudden.

He let go your leg and curled into you. Bringing your body with him as he laid on his side. Keeping you connected as he tangled his legs into yours.

"Are you alright?" He pushed himself up on his elbow, cupping your face. Eye flickering over your dazed expression.

"Ye- yes my lord."

You swallowed your drool as you melted into his touch. He shook his head. "Just call me Silco, my lovely, no need for titles now."

You just nodded. Humming as you let his name trail off your lips. Snuggling into his cold chest. Sweat covering your entire body. You felt as if you were on fire. He felt so nice. So cold. He just stroked your face, letting you rest. Letting out a breath of relief as he laid back down. Knowing he got exactly what he wanted.

[xccentriktigress]

Trust Me

Pairing: Dennis Skinner x F!Reader (Skinner 1993)

Word Count: 2,421 words

Warning(s): Knife play, dubious consent, mentions of off screen flaying, bondage, sensory deprivation, minor blood play

Summary: Your serial killer boyfriend wants to try something a little more exciting.

Author's Note: I couldn't find the fic I wanted so I wrote it myself. This scene may appear later in a longer fic but until then, I hope you enjoy this. This is the first thing I've written in a while and my only Reader POV fic so please be kind.

Shout-out to @curbitkirby for encouraging me to write a niche fic as my own audience. I was your anon all along!

AO3

You've known who Dennis was for months now. What he did when he was gone all night. He showed you the abandoned warehouse where his poorly preserved skins hung like a macabre walk-in closet. Yet somehow, you still feel safer with him than almost anyone else.

You were already sleeping together before he told you, though you continued to say you would go slow. There was no slow now, though. You made your choice and you wouldn't go back if you could.

This morning Dennis had said he wanted to do something special tonight. Something risky, he'd called it.

"Do you trust me," he asked, cupping your cheek.

"Of course I do."

That small, shy smile still made you melt.

"Good," he said, that sweet smile quirking into a dark smirk that sent a thrill down your spine. "We're staying in tonight."

He hadn't asked you to dress up, but you wanted to. You weren't entirely sure what he had in mind, but his tone didn't suggest a movie on the couch. You put on the lacy bra and underwear that stays tucked at the back of your underwear drawer. As you slip the stockings up, straightening and centering the garters, you hear the door open downstairs.

"Dennis," you call out, perching on the edge of the bed. "Is that you?"

His steps were always surprisingly soft, even across the creaky old floorboards. He slips into the room, gripping the handle of his tool bag tight as his eyes roam over you. "You're wearing stockings," he says, lingering on your thighs.

"Do you like them," you ask, flushing. You know he does, you've seen the way he looks at your legs when you wear a skirt. And if you hadn't, the hunger in his eyes was answer enough.

"I love stockings on every woman," he says, setting his bag down with a conspicuous clinking of metal on metal. "But especially on you."

He pulls you to your feet and holds you against his chest, dark eyes scanning your face.

"Do you trust me," he asks for the second time that day, his voice taking on a new hard edge.

"I trust you."

He smiles sweetly, but it doesn't quite meet his eyes. When he lets you go, it drops entirely.

"Get on the bed," he says, bending to pull deep blue ropes from his bag. He tosses them on the bed in front of you. "Tie your feet to the bed. Wide."

His stern tone doesn't leave room for argument and you quickly work to obey. You're surprised by how soft the rope is, entirely different from the rough hemp he uses for his victims. Your knots aren't complex but they're secure without cutting into your ankles. At the very least, Dennis seems satisfied when he tests them.

He runs his hand from the knot, up your leg, teasing a finger under the garter strap along your thigh. "Divine," he whispers softly before continuing his trail up your body to tie your hands. His long fingers are more adept with the rope and you can tell right away his knots are more secure. You won't get free unless he lets you.

He cups your cheek, kissing you softly. "Now, I want you to close your eyes. And don't open them until I tell you."

"We could use a blindfold, I'm sure I've got something-"

"No," he snaps, gripping your jaw firmly. "I want to see you obey me," he growls, sending a shiver down your spine. You nod and close your eyes, relaxing as he lets you go. "Good. Now keep them closed."

You can hear him step away but then only the sounds of the night outside your window. As you lay there it's hard not to think about how helpless you are here. You consider opening your eyes but he might be there, waiting.

"Dennis?" You call out but there's no reply, no squeaking door or gentle footfall to indicate his presence. You listen for a long moment before you call out again. "My eyes are still closed, but I need to know you haven't left."

"I'm here," he answers calmly from somewhere to your right. "No peeking," he says playfully and now you can hear him rifling through his bag. Looking for the proper tool for…something. You could only begin to guess. You breathe deeply, testing your binds almost instinctively.

Finally, after far too long, he blows against your ear, sending a shudder through you. "You've been so good, so patient," he whispers, his lips barely brushing your skin.

You hiss at the abrupt cold against your belly as he lays the flat of a blade upon your belly.

"Do you still trust me, (Y/N)? I need you to trust me."

You can't deny the tightness in your gut at the very genuine threat he poses at this moment. You've never felt unsafe with him before, but this moment feels charged. Balanced on the edge of the very knife he held. You take another deep breath.

"It's a simple yes or no question," he snaps, stepping away. "Don't think, don't open your eyes, just answer. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," you answer with a quivering breath. It's true, despite everything you know. "I trust you, Dennis."

You can almost feel a tension ease in the room and he places the blade against your flesh again. "I believe you," he says, lips brushing yours before he kisses you again.

He teases the blade across your abdomen. "Tell me you want this."

"I want you," you answer, choosing your words precisely.

You hear him chuckle warmly as he continues to drag the blade along your skin. It doesn't hurt, more of a prickling sensation. It tingles up your chest and slices easily through the thin fabric at the center of your bra. He moves the cups away with the tip of his blade, exposing your breasts to the chill air.

You gasp as he presses the cold metal against one nipple, taking the other in his mouth. You grasp at the air, wanting to touch him as he lavishes your nipple with his tongue. He grazes his teeth over it as he pulls back and blows, pebbling the bud.

"You're beautiful," he whispers as he drags the blade back down to your hips. He must use his free hand to run his fingers up your slit, groaning softly. "So ready, so vulnerable, so perfect." The elastic snaps softly as he slices through one side then the other of the underwear, pulling the damp cloth away to leave you exposed in only your stockings.

The mattress shifts as he leaves the bed, but this time you can hear his bare feet padding along the floor. He clinks around again in his bag and then he's running what feels like something long and wooden along your now bare slickness. You moan softly as he presses it gently against your clit, the textured surface making you feel electric.

"Dennis, please," you whine, pulling against the ropes.

He slaps your thigh with the cold flat of a new blade and you realize he's been teasing you with its hilt.

"Stay still and keep your eyes shut," he orders. He slips two long fingers inside you, drawing a sharp gasp as he curls them. You struggle to maintain under the slow, studious torment, but manage with little more than a tremor in your thighs.

He shifts again and you hope that soon he'll give you the fullness you crave. Instead he tastes you with a long lick from core to clit, making you groan deeply. He'd licked and bitten you before but never there.

"How do I taste," you whine, swallowing roughly. He doesn't answer and for a moment you're concerned, but then his face is buried between your legs, drinking you down like a dying man. You can't help but roll your hips against him but he stops the moment you do.

You whine pathetically as he pulls back and runs a finger under one of the garters. "I won't tell you again." He presses the blade against your hip, firmer than before. The edge is no longer a prickle but not as painful as you expect. Still, it's very clear that even the slightest twitch might break the skin.

You feel him lower himself again to circle his tongue around your clit and this time you're careful to hold yourself. Your fists clench and your toes curl as he meticulously tests your limits, his free hand gripping your thigh as the knife rests almost calmly.

"Dennis, please," you whimper, shuddering. "I'm so- I'm going-"

He pulls the knife away and a moment later he's slipping his finger inside you. "Come for me," he growls before burying his face, enthusiastically lapping at your folds until you come with a moan, hips bucking as he works you through your orgasm.

Your eyes flutter up at the ceiling as you pant before you close them again. If he notices, he doesn't say anything. You can feel your wetness coating his chin as he kisses and bites up your body. He drags the blade up behind each kiss and you know there will be scratch marks in the morning.

He traces it over the mound of your breast, making you shiver softly. Up along the line of your collarbone and back again to rest the tip in the hollow of your neck. "Mm, incredible."

The blade is once again gentle as he draws it over the contours of your face. The cool metal is pressed against your cheekbone as he kisses you tenderly.

"Open your eyes."

You open them slowly to see the adoring little smile you've come to love. He shifts to rub the head of his thick cock against your swollen clit and you keep your eyes on his as you groan.

"Dennis, please," you whine, rolling against him. You watch as his eyes flutter now, sweeping the tip of his tongue over his cupid's bow to curl back in. He sits back and you can see all of him now. His long, lean torso pale in the moonlight through your window. There's a flicker of a thought, wondering how long the curtain has been open but it vanishes as you finally see the blade he's been teasing you with all night.

It's shorter than it felt when it was pressed against you and no part of it looks like it should offer pleasure. Wide, with a wicked little curve at the tip. The sharp edge glints ominously in the light, but as your eyes wander down to the textured hilt, you shudder.

He chuckles darkly, looking over you with hungry eyes as he begins to twirl the knife through his fingers.

"You like this," he says and this time it's not a question but you nod anyway. He reaches back without looking to slice one rope, freeing one ankle, then the other. He holds the knife carefully as he grips your thighs, shifting them to press into you. Your head rolls back as he fills you, torturously slow, clawing at the air again. Long, slow strokes through you, pulling nearly all the way out then burying himself as deep as possible.

You writhe under him, moaning and whimpering for more. Instead he takes the knife and presses it gently against your chest, instantly stilling you as he continues to thrust. His gaze is hard, predatory, the quirk at the edge of his thin lips doing nothing to soften the look. He drags it back down your body to rest against your mound, using his thumb to tease your clit.

You pant and try to keep your hips still but you feel the blade bite into you as your hips twitch. You can feel the blood welling but you're still surprised when he tosses the blade away to kiss the small wound. You shiver at the sight of your blood speckling his lips, licking your own.

He lunges forward to kiss you, taking on a new pounding rhythm. His fingers dig into your thighs, holding you in place as firmly as any rope. Still you strain against the bonds, desperate to feel him, to claw and caress him. You bite his lip and he growls, biting back harder, making you yelp. His cock shudders inside you and you know he's close.

"I want to see you come," you say, breathless and husky. He shudders, eyes fluttering as he gathers his control to pull out. He lets go of your legs, taking his cock in one hand and fingering you with the other. You watch as he strokes himself, long, thin fingers wrapped around his girth. It isn't long before you're coming again and he's painting your stomach with long stripes.

As you come down you can feel his juices adding a sting to the tingling warmth of your new marks. He almost looks smug, surveying his handy work along your body.

"Pretty as a picture," he smirks, and for a moment you wonder if he has more in mind for the night. He gets off the bed and grabs a towel from somewhere you can't see, patting you clean before wiping himself off. He tugs the end of each knot holding your wrists, releasing so easily it's hard to believe they ever held you.

You rub your wrists and he traces along your jaw, lifting your chin to look at him. "You did so well, sweetheart," he smiles, kissing your head. "Do you feel alright?"

You nod, sighing contentedly as you settle into the bed. "Hurts a little, but not much".

"We should get you cleaned up."

"Soon," you say, pulling him down to you. He shifts to hold you with a warm chuckle. You settle against his bare chest and, despite the warm prickling across your flesh, you feel safer than ever.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispers against your hair. You don't respond, just cuddling closer.