#fem marines

[voices-of-favor]

An interesting bit of old 1st edition lore, putting it out here for those who havent seen it yet

Found it?

1st edition had a lot of female space marines, and even female-only space marine chapters, the LsoP being just one of those

And theres more: They are Ultramarine successors

Makes me wonder if they would be less pissy if GE never retconned this (Update: I found out that they didnt, oop)

[tagedeszorns]

Ooooh how about fem Erebus...?! Right?

Normally, my genderswapped Warhammer-chars are mostly she-machines, able to rip your arm out of the socket without breaking a sweat (maybe not fem-Curze. She would bite it off in one go, though), but Erebus needs to be the sultry, soft looking diplomat.

With an Athame, of course.

[reidmania]

blackfish | spencer reid

summary; being in the early stages of your relationship, spencer has yet to hear your passionate rambles, until you watch a documentary together and the topic of animals in captivity comes up.

warnings; fluff, so much fluff fem!reader, early seasons spencer, marine biology major!reader, start of relationship things, talking about animal abuse, animals in captivity, talks about orca’s and the documentary blackfish (i know the time line is unrealistic use ur imagination please)

an; self indulgent as a marine biology major and someone very passionate about the fact animals should not be used as apart of a circus act. Very very short, and sweet.

Your legs were resting over Spencer’s, the heels of your feet pressing against the side of the couch arm, while his hands massaged the skin of your calf gently, the credits to the documentary you had spent the last hour and a half watching together rolling over the tv. His hands were gentle and hesitate in every one of the movements, a little shy.

“Did you like it?” He asked, turning his head to look at you, thumb pressing against a tender muscle in your calf, the sensation causing a soft sigh of relaxation throughout your body, which contradicted the annoyance that had been filling you as the film went on.

You hummed, unsure of how to answer the question. “It was interesting.” You mumbled out, your head rolling to press against the back of the couch cushions. He smiled slightly as his hands continued to work out the tension in your legs.

“Yeah?” He hummed out. You nodded, interesting was a safe way to describe your feelings on the documentary you had watched. It wasn’t that it was bad, it wasn’t at all. And you had been interested, the entire time. Just the more the details were revealed the sicker the feeling got in your stomach.

He shuffled slightly, “What are you thinking about?” He asked, his hands pausing their massaging movements to instead rub gently over the smoothness of your skin. Obviously he had noticed the slightly sour look on your face and the way your mind seemed elsewhere.

“How horrible the human species are.” You answered honestly although you were aware Spencer was already aware of this fact. He worked to stop all the horrible things the human species did everyday. He witnessed it firsthand.

“Annoyed?” He asked. You nodded.

You shuffled slightly, pulling your legs away from where they had been resting over his thighs to sit up a little straighter, tucking your knees underneath you as your hands came to rest on your thighs.

“I don’t understand how anyone can look at animals in aquariums or even animal’s in zoo’s and think that it’s just.. okay?” You huffed out, annoyance lacing your tone as you spoke, every word coming out just as disgusted as the last. “i mean— These are wild animals and people act so shocked when they act like wild animals. Like that poor orca had been put through hell since the age of two— ripped away from his family and everything he knew, starved, beat up by other orca’s all for what? A quick buck?” You huffed out in frustration.

Spencer hadn’t expected the ramble but it definitely wasn’t unwelcome, your voice was laced with so much passion and intent, every word that left your lips showed how deeply you had thought about this. He had hummed in response, not wanting to interrupt.

“Marine mammals — they are isolated more in captivity than they aren’t which is absolutely insane since every aspect of their being is based on their social and emotional connections— I mean they have a whole part of the brain that human’s don’t have thats dedicated to their emotional bonds. Which means they feel everything probably double the amount that we do” You continued in frustration as your arms came to wrap around your stomach, and irritated pout on your lips.

Spencer raised his eyebrow but nodded, you were right. “They don’t belong in captivity” He agreed simply, you nodded passionately in response to what he had said. He couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto his face as you rambled, because this had never happened before. Normally you were pretty quiet, not in a way that you were shy or awkward, you just didn’t ramble a lot, not like he did. This was a nice change and he couldn’t help the way his heart swarmed at the sight of you getting all worked up over something you felt passionately for. He would listen to everything you had to say, and a million times more.

“It’s— so gross. Like it genuinely makes me feel sick how they take these animals away from their families and then exploit them for money. Like dolphins — Teach them tricks and then act like it’s just an extension of their natural behaviours — it’s not. You know marine mammals in captivity die way earlier than marine mammals in their natural habitats? Especially Orca’s. Orca’s could live up to 100 or even more and they hardly make it to 30 in captivity.” You huffed out.

“I didn’t know that” He did.

“And Orca’s— Oh my gosh. Each family speaks in their own set of vocalisations, no two families will communicate the same way. They literally have their own languages. And— and people want to throw Orca’s from different pods together in a pool and call them a family? They can’t even communicate with each other, or understand each other at all!! You know that can lead to aggression between Orca’s? Nearly half of Orca’s deaths in captivity is because of a different whale being too aggressive—“ You paused when you finally realised you were rambling.

Your cheeks burnt at the realisation, meeting Spencer’s eyes which were filled with nothing but love and admiration only furthered the burning sensation in your cheeks. “Sorry.” You huffed out sheepishly. “I got a bit carried away” you let out a laugh.

He shook his head instantly, his hand reaching out to rest gently against your knee, “No. Don’t apologise. Keep talking, what were you going to say?” He asked, almost desperately begging you to continue on with your passionate ramble, continued to further discover this side of you.

“I-“ you started but your brain short circuited at the look in his eye, pleading, sweet, gentle, loving, admiring. How could he look at you like that and expect you to be able to form a coherent sentence — you could hardly form a coherent thought. “I- forgot.” You huffed out.

He smiled widely, “Whales being too aggressive which can lead to that frustration being taken out on other whales, especially if they feel challenged or uncomfortable.” He finished for you, making your smile widen.

“You’re so smart” you huffed the compliment as if he wasn’t told it so often. He didn’t mind, it always meant more coming from you.

“Go on, angel. What else do you have for me?”

[manofbeskar]

fem marine hunter idea

[druigs-wife]

IN AMADO || NAMOR X FEM!READER

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE || ONE SHOT

summary: after months of separation, namor visits and shows you how important you are to him.

warnings: MINORS DNI, smut, penetration (mxf), oral (f&m receiving), slight angst, wakanda forever spoilers

word count: 2.2K

A/N: translations: in yakunaj ~ my love, in lool ~ my flower, in reina ~ my queen, in amado ~ my beloved

Every six months you and Namor meet on the beach nearby your house. It was already your tradition. No matter how much he wants you to come and live with him in his kingdom and be his only, it wasn't possible.

Yesterday he didn't show up for unknown reasons, as you two had agreed half a year earlier. You did the same as the day before, you sat down on the soft sand in the light of the full moon and patiently waited for your beloved one to come to the surface. Seconds, minutes and hours passed. It was midnight and there was no sign of him. He was never so late. Something must have happened. What if he was hurt in some way? What if you won't see him again? With those dark thoughts a single tear ran down your cheek, but you wiped it immediatly. He could give at least some sign that he is okay, that he is safe and that he still loves you. Why didn't he do that?

It was getting colder on the beach. The waves in the Atlantic Ocean were getting bigger and the wind stronger, sweeping your hair back. Your body started shaking but you were stubborn. This time, you won't let go and keep waiting, even until the dawn. You got up from the ground and started walking towards the cabin where you lived to take a blanket with you back to the beach to cover yourself and warm up. However, as you turned your back to the ocean, you heard a familiar and calm voice.

"In yakunaj, wait..." you immediately turned towards him and looked into his cholocate eyes. At a distance, you could sense that he felt guilty.

Without overthinking, you started walking faster towards him. Thanks to his wings he reached the sand and opened his arms where you found yourself a moment later. He could only hug you even tighter so that you wouldn't be able to run away from him.

"I thought something happened to you. I was losing my mind." you got out of his grip and cupped his wet cheeks in your hands. Your gaze traveled all over his face, but you couldn't find a single scratch. Namor just remained silent and watched you. "You should have let me know you weren't coming, give me a sign, anything." you started shivering more from the cold, he noticed it and started rubbing your arms to keep you warm. "I was worried."

Namor was acting differently than usual, as if something was bothering him. He looked at you with great sadness and regret, but also love and care. You've known each other long enough that you could tell when something was wrong.

"(Y/N) you need to warm up, you're trembling." you nodded slightly, he put his arm around you, and you went home together.

You sat on the wooden floor by the fireplace covered with a blanket and stared at the bright flames. A few moments later, you were awakened from your trance by the sound of creaking panels. Namor joined you, holding cups of something to drink in both hands. He brought you hot tea and for himself only water. He sat down next to you that your bare knees were touching. For the next hour he explained exactly why he hadn't visited you yesterday. The whole world can learn about the existence of the Talokan. You knew how much his kingdom and his people meant to him. Everything. So you weren't surprised what next steps your beloved one would have to make to keep it all a secret from the greedy world.

"Tomorrow morning I will sail to Wakanda with my entire army and put an end to this war." you stared at the already empty cup while listening carefully to what Namor had to say. "I can't let anything happen to Talokan..." he took the cup from you, put it on the ground next to him and wraped your palms together "...and I can't let anything happen to you." you looked at him and a small smile appeared on your face.

"I'm not a threat to them, they don't even know I exist, do they?" he nodded slightly, "So what are you afraid of, in amado?" he smiled gently at the nickname. Only you could call him like that. He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

"I'm afraid that through this stupid war I might lose you, that they can take you away from me, just as I took their queen from them." you sighed heavily amd closed your eyes, leaned a little forward that your foreheads touched.

"And what about you, hmm? Will you come back to me safe and sound? Nobody knows about us... I won't know if you survived or not." you said. You didn't get any answer for the next few moments. All Namor did was leaned back and placed a kiss on your forehead and then on your temple. He put his arm around you and came closer to you than before.

"I give you my word, when I am done with this, I will come to you as soon as I can." Namor gave a few more kisses against your temple. "But if... if anything happens to me, you'll find out just as quickly. You have my word in reina." you looked deep in his eyes. His promise was everything to you at this point.

You finally decided to get closer to him. The tips of your noses touched gently, and your lips was only inches apart. Finally Namor brushed yours hungrily but tenderly. You felt like you hadn't seen each other in ages. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his various necklaces. He, on the other hand, began to run his hands over your hips, waist and higher. As the kiss grew more passionate, you pulled away from him to catch your breath.

"Will you stay with me?" you whispered in his ear and brushed it lightly with your lips. The very gesture made Namor shudder. It was his sensitive point. Taking the opportunity that your neck was more exposed, he didn't waste a single moment and started peppering her with kisses, leaving tiny hickeys on it.

"Only if you want it." your foreheads and eyes meet again. You both were breathing hard. "Do you want me to stay?" you nodded immediately. "I need words in lool." before you spoke, you touched his left ear with your fingertips, then slowly took off his earring and set it on the floor. You did the same on the right side and put your hands on his chest keeping eye contact.

"Stay. Stay with me." Namor smirked broadly and kissed you lovingly, but you quickly broke this gesture because you wanted to get rid of the rest of the jewelry that he didn't need at the moment. With slow movements you removed the necklace after the necklace from his neck. He just watched your every single move carefully. Next were the arms, one jewelry on each of his biceps and on both forearms. You had to move away from him a bit to be able to take off the next ones on his calves "accidentally" touching the wings at his feet. They were also his sweet spot. Namor groaned softly at the contact. He needed you. Right now.

He rose a little and grasped your thighs tightly to be able to lift you up from the floor. Once he was standing on his feet, you wrapped your legs around him on the way to the bedroom. Namor kissing you passionately placed you carefully on the edge of the bed. This time it was he who took the initiative. He began to remove parts of your clothes from you, revealing more and more of your skin. You only stayed in your panties. Without taking his eyes off you, he got up from the bed to take off the last parts of his clothes. He threw his belt and shorts on the floor, freeing his cock and climbed on you again. He kissed your neck and sucked it alternately covering it with hickeys. For a few seconds you felt his cock brush against your thigh. With every second he was getting lower and lower. After a few moments, his lips were on your breasts, he worshiped every inch of your body. He started caressing your nipples, making circles around them with his tongue and sucking them as well. You were already a moaning mess, but you still wanted more. You wanted more of him.

You ran one hand through his black hair, and the other you placed on his shoulder and dug your nails lightly into him. He moaned against your breasts and began to go down. He placed wet kisses on your belly, until he finally reached your thighs. He adores them, so he also left a few hickeys and love bites on them. He looked up at you.

He reached for the fabric of your panties with his fingertips, they were already wet. Namor was waiting for your permission.

"Please..." you moaned softly. With one smooth movement, he pulled the last part of your clothing off you and your whole beautiful body appeared in front of him. Namor was enjoying this view as well as the first time he saw you in all your glory.

"May I?" he asked politely being inches from your folds, putting one leg over his shoulder for better access to your entrance. You felt his warm breath against your skin.

"Yes, in amado. Make love to me, please." at these words Namor immediately began to lick the wetness from your folds, teasing your clit with his nose. You rolled your eyes back at the sensation and lay down completely on the freshly laundered sheets as he dived deeper into your pussy while he was on his knees.

You missed this and couldn't wait to suck his dick until he goes wild. You groaned loudly as his tongue was slightly higher on your wet and aching clit. You were so close, but you wanted this moment last forever, so you tense your muscles and dug your nails into his hair. Namor brought his free hand to his mouth and dipped two fingers in his saliva, then sliding them inside of your pussy. When he felt that you're close, he began to curl them in your sweet spot, to which you replied with more uncontrollable moans of pleasure.

"Cum for me in yakunaj, let me feel you" at his filthy words you came so hard that you arched your spine and your body was shaking with the pleasure your beloved just gave you. When he cleaned your folds, he climbed on top of you and placed a long kiss on your lips. You could feel your own taste. Namor pulled away from you and then you touched his cock and started pumping it slowly.

"Let me worship you, my king." taking the opportunity that he didn't pay enough attencion, you turned the both of you that he was now on his back and you were on top. You did exactly what he did to you. "K'uk'ulkan..." you sighed marking every inch of his body, you slide lower and lower until your mouth was on the tip of his cock. You took it in your hand pumping, licked off his leaking precum and sucked gently on the tip. He propped himself up with his hands so he could see what you were doing to him. He groaned softly and closed his eyes with the excess of pleasure. Namor put his hand on your head and started fucking your mouth. At first he kept the pace that you set, but with each passing second he was closer and his thrusts became faster. When he felt that he was about to spill his cum inside your mouth, he stopped his movements as well as you.

"Up, in reina. Up." you did as he told you to. You stood up and pressed your lips together in a passionate kiss. Namor moved you with his arms to make you sit on him. You've been waiting for this moment for a long time. His wings began to flutter, brushing against your bare skin. You touched one with your fingers and Namor let out an innocent groan. You weren't admitting the thought that you might lose him. He directed his cock towards your entrance and in one move he was inside you. You both moaned loudly. You wrapped your arms around him, and he took your nipples in his mouth again and savor them while thrusting his cock against your g spot.

When Namor was making love to you, it felt like it was your first and at the same last time. He was rediscovering your body, every inch of your soft skin, your reactions to his actions, and your beautiful sounds again. Everything was perfect.

You have never believed in what the other people have said about him in legends, because what he is like right now, in your arms, fascinated by all of you, is a complete opposite of what is said in all those fairytales.

When you both reached your climaxes, you lay down on the bed together, Namor wrapped his arm around you tightly, and you put your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. Until you both fell asleep in each others arms, he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and rubbed your nude and soft shoulders.

"In k'áatech, in yaakunaj.

Teech le in yóok'ol kaaba'."

"I love you, my love. You are my whole world."

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[moodymisty]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 soon

Author's Note: Hi... I finally finish this part. The last two are actually fairly close to being done, I was just really held up on this one. It's not my favorite, but I just had to get it done.

Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.

Relationships: Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord

Warnings: Hints of nsfw at points, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language, Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence blood and bruises and possibly death to say without spoilers

Word Count: 1376

Ever since the moment you met him, Lev has been your shadow whenever Ralkan isn’t around. 

Every time, not long after you leave your quarters, he seems to find you.

Whereas the Salamanders have rigid training regimens they must abide by every single day- though day is a bit of a loose term in the depths of space - it seems the Night Lords are largely left up to their own devices as you travel to their destination.

You suppose it makes sense, daily training wouldn’t do much for them other than entertainment; These Night Lords are clearly the best of the their genestock, brought aboard to show the Salamanders who they were working with.

Ralkan had been extremely displeased with you when you’d called this all a pissing contest. The much younger Salamander in your company at the time had snickered at your joke before getting quickly reprimanded and sulked his way back to the firing range.

But as much as he denied your comment and attempted to dissuade any ill will between the two legions as merely the occasion disagreement, you've heard from around the ship that attempts to keep things amicable however have largely failed. You’ve heard rumors of the Night Lords getting into fights with Salamanders, barking and goading confrontation like rowdy, feral street dogs.

Ever since Lev had an altercation with a Salamander- you don't even know if he was the first one to do so- it seems to have only gotten worse. And you still have at least another two weeks in travel before you reach your destination, with everyone trapped in here like fish in a barrel.

At least the Salamanders have weapons, the baseline humans aboard the ship have been forced to shuffle around and avoid eyesight of any Night Lords, and pray they don't stick out of the crowd.

Your conversations with the others aboard the ship might be brief, but you know that some have gone missing. As if the implications let out by Lev's cohorts at the time of your first meeting hadn't already queued you in on it.

Sitting at your desk in the midst of some monotonous work you glance to your left, leaning over to open a drawer and reveal the contents.

The centerpiece of them all is a Night Lord combat knife. The metal shines, but far less that you would expect it to. It's like it eats the very light that touches it. You kept it hidden, Emperor forbid Ralkan found it, but...

You didn't want to throw it away either.

You could hear the sound of the pipes thrumming as you looked up at Lev, and he looks down on you. A serf passed by behind him at a quick pace; Even quicker when Lev turned just slightly at the neck to watch them and make sure they moved along.

He'd found a moment in-between moments- the few seconds where Ralkan wasn't watching - to find you. Perhaps that should unsettle you. But he's given you the first real conversations you've had in awhile besides Ralkan, and you couldn't help but pause.

Ralkan is a safe embrace, Lev is a precarious drop; But you keep looking over the edge.

"You look tired," He said, looking down at you with lazy eyes. He always looks somewhat sleepy and unimpressed himself.

"I was going back to my quarters to sleep, until you stopped me." He grew a smirk that showed sharp, near overgrown canine teeth.

"Maybe you should tell that Salamander of yours to back off then."

You crossed your arms across your chest like a self-assuring hug and focused on the bat wings stretched across the chestplate of his armor.

"Do you know he always has eyes on you? Even when he isn't around? Even his brothers are watching you."

You assumed he's been having trouble getting a moment where it's just you; Many have, not just him. Ralkan has watched you so intently since Lev started sinking his talons into you, and despite finding comfort in him keeping the Night Lord with unknown intentions at bay, you also find yourself tugging away for just an inch of space.

Unfortunately, that space leads right into Lev.

"...His name is Ralkan."

You swallow a knot in your throat. As much as you knew you could talk to Ralkan, push back against some things he said, you had no idea where Lev's limits are; What words might make him decide you're more fun as toy he can break than one he's gentle with.

"Here."

Lev reached to his belt and pulled a knife from it, tossing it in the air gently to grab it by the blade tip and push it out towards you. You didn't touch it, leaning away and staring at it like it's diseased. It might as well be; You don't know what unsaid intentions you'd be accepting if you took it from him.

"I saw your Salamander gave you something," You assumed he was talking about a small trinket Ralkan had made at the forge for you, one of a few. The necklace that dangles around you neck at all times now was also from him.

A practice with things more delicate, he had said.

"Here's something of my own. Don't lose it."

You hadn't lost it, but it had taken some hiding to keep it out of Ralkan's sight. You knew that if he saw it, the rough and disgusting gift- much unlike Ralkan's delicate one - would be gone in an instant.

Perhaps you shouldn't care, it's from an astartes you barely know, but something about it just makes you want to keep it.

Your entire vision as been Ralkan over these past few months. Especially these recent weeks since Lev arrived. The sight of something, someone else is almost enthralling- no matter how dangerous. You've caught yourself looking at the knife multiple times now, remembering the way Lev's armoured fingers wrapped around sharp edge of the blade as he gave it to you, even once having to slam the drawer shut quickly just before Ralkan entered your room to take you somewhere.

He hasn't caught wind of the knife itself yet, but you have a feeling he knows you're hiding something. He's given you openings to say, but you've declined them all. You assume he knows Lev is somehow finding you and is hoping you'll tell him how, what rat holes he's using to get to you, and it frustrates him that you won't.

He probably thinks the astartes is threatening you to not tell him. Rather than that you don't want to.

You close the drawer, hearing the contents jingle around while sighing.

You'd curse even coming aboard the Flamewrought, but you can't deny the advantages of being here. Your work, the people you've met, though most of those people are gone; Ralkan is almost all that remains. You speak to some of his men at times, but the interaction is always brief and controlled.

“Where’s your Salamander now, little one?” 

You suddenly burst up from your chair, it sliding with a hideous squeal as you hit it with the back of your knees and nearly stumble over. Lev meanwhile stands in the doorway, watching before stepping inward. You take a step backward as his right hand reaches out to slam the door controls and shut it behind him.

“He left you all alone in here?” 

You hold your hands close to your chest as if trying to protect yourself, watching him stare at you with black eyes.

“These are my quarters, he doesn’t stay here.”

Lev scoffs and rolls his eyes. He steps closer, ignoring the way you step back to try and maintain the distance. Seeing him in the halls is one thing; There's a chance a Salamander could see you in distress and help you, or you could scream and try to run, but here you're far out of the way of everyone else by design, and with nowhere to even try fleeing to.

"I'm sure he would choose otherwise, had he the chance. He keeps a very close eye on you, you know. He'd be quite disappointed you left the door unlocked." You do know, quite well in fact, and reiterate as such.

"I'm... Well aware of how through his guardianship is."

He must find either you or the situation funny, and laughs.

"What then, does his Salamander duty and rigor prevent him from going any further? Or do you have someone else already, and he's forced to keep his hands to himself?" He laughs again, but it comes out like an indignant snort.

"A pity, I'm sure it makes him furious having to spend so much time protecting a little thing like you and not even get to enjoy it."

It's cold in this room, always is- the entire ship is chilled, recirculated air - and it makes you able to feel the noticeable heat radiating from his body and his armor as he approaches you.

He smiles, leaning in closer. You know you're out of space when your shoulderblades finally knock against the wall.

Closer again. You can feel his breath on your face, how his long hair tickles your skin. Even closer and his stubble rubs against your skin, burning it.

His lips press against yours and you whimper into his mouth, a noise that makes him moan. Your fear spurs him on and he presses his lips to yours harder, feeling when your hands grab the seams of his armour and either try to helplessly push him away, or at least hold on until he's finished with you. The scar across his upper lip scrapes against yours much like his stubble does- everything about him is rough and jagged. Only when your whimpers get louder and start turning into muffled cries does he finally pull away, his teeth raking over your bottom lip before he pulls them away with a soft ‘pop’.

His smile his bright, like he just found a brand new toy.

“You are soft,” 

He says, twisting his brother’s words from weeks earlier. He has this look in his eyes, bright with curiosity, like he’s enthralled by something so simple. You can feel your heart slamming against your chest as you stand in his shadow, tears wanting to prick at the corners of your eyes. You know you have something he wants, but while he's being gentle, the vast unknown behind his eyes his terrifying. But is that unknown better that suffocating?

Lev seems to think it is, one his his gauntlets gripping your clothing as gentle as the armour allows him.

"I can take you, I'll get you away from him and I can keep you safe, all to mys-"

"Get away from her."

Lev pulls back, turning to see Ralkan standing in the opening doorway. His hand rests on the handle of his chainsword ready to pull the trigger and rev it to life, and the look he's giving the Night Lord is nothing short of hellfire.

"It is one thing to be on our ship, but I thought I was quite firm in my orders to keep your disgusting hands off of her, and keep your distance."

The smile Lev had quickly fades into an unimpressed and angry sort of look, wrinkling his nose. He doesn't move away from you, instead just turning.

"You don't get to order me around. I'm no brother of yours."

That struck a nerve of Ralkan's, you can instantly tell. His shoulders squared and his hand flexes around the handle of his chainsword, just tight enough that you hear the engine start to kick on and the chain's teeth rattle as it threatens to spin to life.

“I am from Nocturne. I am well versed in slaying dragons, a rat like you should be nothing at all.”

Lev rolls his eyes, unimpressed by Ralkan's formality. He finally turns from trapping you against the wall to give the Salamander his full attention, allowing you to scurry off to the side.

But while Lev seems casual his hand rests close to his own blade, and despite the smirk on his face and casual lean he is just as prepared to fight as Ralkan is.

“Even if you do kill me Salamander, it doesn’t change that you’re just hoarding her all to yourself.”

The two and their energies make this room feel microscopic in size, as Ralkan shifts and evens his footing. Lev straightens up slightly, putting his hands closer to the weapons hanging from his hip.

You stand back trapped in here with them, with no chance of racing by without either one grabbing you for themselves.

You can only step back, and hope that it doesn’t escalate any further than this.

[wing-ed-thing]

Stay the Night (Smoker x Reader)

Synopsis: Smoker is surprisingly, bafflingly competent at taking care of you while you're drunk.

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags/Warnings: Alcohol, Intoxication, Alcohol Sickness, Vomiting, Fluff, No Reader Pronouns Explicitly Mentioned (Reader Wears Heels, Makeup, and a Wig), Language, Mildly Suggestive, Two Longtime Friends and Peers who are Clearly in Love with Each Other

Notes: I felt like Smoker was the kind of guy to reluctantly hold your hair back while you're throwing up.

Unlike the rest of his present company, Smoker usually avoided overindulging in elaborately planned social events, especially those with an open bar. It was best to stay out of the way. 

The Marines rarely allocated funds to such frivolous occasions, and so most officers and honored guests took it upon themselves to find the bottom of the generously offered bottomless champagne. While the hangovers were never worth it, that didn’t stop even the highest leadership from stumbling out of the ballroom doors with hair tousled and neckties hanging across their shoulders. 

Smoker preferred to sit at a table out of the way: a sanctuary among the chaos, away from the main path of foot traffic, with a clear view of the door. That’s where he nursed his single glass of whisky. If he were feeling especially celebratory, he would have two. 

You, on the other hand… were already standing on top of a table. Your stilettos were positioned on either side of the floral centerpiece in the middle, and the tiny point of your heels barely allowed you to balance as the bottle in your hands exploded in a loud, crisp pop. 

Smoker watched how the sea of Marines that gathered around you in disheveled formalwear cheered, and your hypnotized face admired the bubbles pouring from the bottle's neck. 

A group of newly trained officers jumped up and down together in time with the music on the opposite side of the circular table in celebration, knocking some tall glasses over onto the white cloth below. Smoker nearly leaped out of his chair as your knees began to buckle. But even despite your tiny shoes and even tinier dress, you managed to catch yourself. Your laughter resounded loudly among the voices around you.

Smoker heaved a deep sigh, sitting back down, swirling his drink with a flick of his wrist. 

He didn’t even need to see that stunt to predict what would come later that night. 

The streets were utterly empty. Aside from the glow of the street lamps, the only light that shone was from the venue as the staff hurried their clean up. Smoker strolled out of the double doors, tie loosened around his neck and suit jacket draped neatly over his arm.

He barely had to make it outside before he saw you. Hell, he’d be able to spot that glittery ass anywhere, even without your blinding choice of attire. 

You were bent over on your weak knees as you hurled your guts out into a bush. Smoker let out a low, resigned grumble, swiping a hand over his fatigued face as he approached you. You barely registered the large shadow that overtook you, let alone the hands that gingerly and neatly gathered your hair away from your face. 

You sputtered, coughing as a few tears streamed from your eyes. The insides of your cheeks were wet and bitter, and your throat burned. You spat onto the ground to get more foul-tasting mucus out of your mouth. 

You were a Marine, dammit, and a few too many took you out quicker than any pirate ever did. 

“Koby?” you whined. Tears continued to stream from your eyes at the pressure in your sinuses. You spat again. God, something was in your nose.

“Sorry to disappoint, Lieutenant Commander,” Smoker gruffed from where he squatted next to you. 

“Don’t call me that,” you whimpered, not wanting to be reminded of your rank during such a state of weakness. Your stomach convulsed, causing your sickness to start again. Smoker’s gaze drifted to the still street like another weekday night. “I’m never gonna drink again.”

“Mh-hmm” was about the only noise you got out of Smoker. He sat patiently and wordless, not one to croon words of assurance at you as you paid for your night of over-indulgence. But for his silence, he continued to pull your hair back, meticulously smoothing the bundle back as best as he could so as not to knot or tug at your stands. 

In a moment of relief, you finally turned over to sit on the curb. Despite the extra alcohol emptied from your stomach, you were far from sober. Smoker knelt on one knee in front of you. You could hardly get his face to focus, let alone register the warm jacket he hung across your shoulders. 

He took the pocket square from the left breast pocket and unfurled it with a snap of his wrist. Smoker swiped the fabric over your mouth, clearing away saliva and slime. The backs of your fingers knocked against his wrist belatedly as you shook your head.

“‘M gonna fuck up your hankie, Smokey,” you sighed, even though he had already wiped your mouth. He shoved the square roughly into his pocket, paying no mind to you as he heaved you onto your feet. “‘M alright. I can make it home.”

“Like hell, you can.” You stumbled as you tried to step forward, but Smoker caught you around the waist. “These, too. You know the whole street’s cobblestone, right?.” His movements felt incredibly fast to you as he bent down again to slide your shoes off, and with two large fingers hooked around the pinch of your stilettos, Smoker moved to throw you over his shoulder. 

“Whoa, whoa, wait…” Your hand flew over your mouth, and the other splayed across Smoker’s right shoulder. He held you at length, studying your face and movements carefully. 

“What’s goin’ on?”

You shook your head in small but rapid swivels.

“Can’t do that.” You heaved a deep breath, slowly removing your hand from your mouth. 

Smoker grumbled a hum of acknowledgment, pulling his jacket closed over your chest before shepherding you down the street toward your apartment. 

You barely remembered the walk, although you were sure your drunken meandering was more than a test of Smoker’s patience. Even so, he hardly said a word, only breaking his silence to ask you where your keys were when you reached your doorstep. 

They were in your clutch, which Smoker was holding with your shoes, of course. 

As soon as the door opened, you nearly collapsed into your apartment. With Smoker's help, you fell neatly onto the couch by the entrance. He slipped off his boots— no matter how formal the event, Smoker was wearing his combat boots— and disappeared somewhere into your apartment. 

You didn’t even care. Your head was so heavy that all you wanted to do was sleep as you slowly sank into your couch cushions. 

“Sit back up.” You heard Smoker call sternly from the other room. You didn’t think you could obey him if you wanted to. 

In a second, you were being repositioned. The light from the lamp in the corner of the room was sobering and borderline upsetting, but it allowed you to see the small trashcan Smoker brought for you on the floor to your right and the bottle of make-up remover on the coffee table in front of you. Smoker sat beside you, tilting your chin to delicately rub your make-up away with a prepped, textured cotton pad. 

It caught you off guard, to say the least. Even in your drunken haze, Smoker still didn’t seem like the type to have patience for tender acts of service. Hell, you didn’t even know he knew what make-up remover looked like. 

But despite your judgments, Smoker sat on the couch next to you, one elbow resting against the back cushion as he held your chin while his other hand swiped away your perfect contour. 

“Who taught you this?” you giggled. Smoker, make sure to get the creases around your nose. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “Where do you want your lashes?”

“What?—” 

Smoker had already pulled your left eyelash off, the entire strip. 

“I’ll put ‘em back in the book I saw.” Before you could protest, Smoker had already pulled off your right lash. He stood quickly, stuffing the solution-soaked pad into your hand as he pivoted to carry your lashes to the other room. “Work on the rest of the glue.”

He turned back to you slightly, leaning over you just a bit to grasp your wrist and manipulate your hand to move in a circular motion on your face before you slapped him away. Smoker disappeared once again into your apartment. 

You finally noticed the plastic cup of water on your coffee table and mustered up the energy to take it. The outside was wet with condensation. It was cold. You couldn’t remember the last time you drank water. 

“What do you wanna do with your unit?” Smoker appeared from around the corner again; some linens balled in a wad under his arm. He held a pillow in his opposite grip as if he were holding a stray dog by the scruff. 

His white collared shirt had been pulled from the waistband of his dress pants sometime during the night. The black tie that was already draped over his shoulders drooped to one side, making one side longer than the other. The first three buttons of his shirt sat on his chest untethered. A dampened towel rested over his shoulder.

You blinked at him between sips of water. Your stomach was handling rehydration so far, but you were about to push it.

“You’re not touching my hair, Smokey.”

“Though I’d offer.” He set the pillow down to take the towel off his shoulder. Smoker wadded it in a ball before throwing it your way. You somehow still had the dexterity to catch it out of the air. A generous amount of adhesive remover had already been applied to it. 

Smoker pulled the coffee table out of the way, and as you stared at the towel he threw to you, Smoker began arranging blankets and pillows around you. You supposed he was trying to get you to sleep somewhere you could sit up. He draped a fuzzy throw blanket on your lap and moved two large decorative pillows to your right and left.

As your eyes moved from the remover-soaked towel to Smoker and back, you couldn’t help but laugh. The sensation moved through you before tearing out of your chest. Unrestrained by the liquor, it probably came out louder and more shrill than it would have usually, but if Smoker had any comments, he kept them to himself. 

He knelt before you, both his wrists resting on his bent knee. He shook his head as if regretting the question he was about to ask in advance.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

You swayed forward, racked with trembles, as you continued to laugh. The back of your heels knocked against the bottom of the couch. Smoker didn’t move, even as your face inched gradually towards his. Your cheek settled into your palm, allowing you to sit folded over to meet his eye. He waited as your laughter gradually subsided.

“What are you doing here, Smoker?” 

He stared directly into your irises, and you didn’t know if his expressionlessness or the intensity of his gaze made your smug smile waver. Intending to tease him, Smoker didn’t humor you with an expression. Nothing you had done that night—nor anything you would do—could sober you up faster than the sharp and sudden twinge in your chest that came with simply meeting Smoker’s dark brown eyes. 

What the hell?

“Your girlfriend’ll be pissed.” You sharply recoiled, kicking your legs over Smoker’s bent knee to swiftly stand. You made a beeline deeper into the apartment. 

Smoker only wavered a moment, his eyebrows creasing for a second in confusion before he stood and followed you.

“What girlfriend?” he shouted. He nearly ran into you as you closed a small cabinet by the bathroom. The side of your lip drooped downward in an acute pout. Smoker, never one to enjoy feeling left out of the loop, hovered over you expectantly. You entered the bathroom without a second thought. Smoker found himself in the doorway.

“Weren’t you with that…” You snapped your fingers as you tried to recall her name. You didn’t have to wait.

“Six months ago… and we only went on a few dates,” Smoker defended, although he wasn’t quite sure why he felt the need to defend himself to you in the first place. The two of you had known each other for longer than he recalled knowing anyone else, and more prominently, the two of you were peers. Why should it matter if he took some petty officer out for a few drinks a few months back? His eyes narrowed at the back of your head. “Why?”

You shrugged. You seemed far less worried about the whole thing; your face practically pressed against the mirror to remove the remaining patches of product Smoker missed. He did a more than adequate job. He hardly missed anything regarding your makeup, but the pointed glance you stole in the mirror escaped him. 

“Now I know I’m pretty wasted—” You met his gaze through the mirror. You cocked your head, and your hands gripped the side of the sink in pure bafflement. “But you said ‘lash book’—?”

“Got it. Got it.” Smoker crossed his arms as he tore his attention away. Steam filled the air. He hardly noticed the shower running, and he most definitely didn’t realize that you were standing in front of him, presenting your back, until you started speaking again.

“So, you’re just kind of a—" You glanced over your shoulder at him, and for as off as your judgment was, you knew you probably shouldn’t finish your sentence—even if his reaction would have been hilarious. You turned back around. “Get my dress for me?”  

You could have noticed Smoker’s single beat of hesitation if you were any less intoxicated. But for yet another instance that night, Smoker went quiet as he slowly tugged down the back zipper of your dress. The invisible zipper was thin and difficult to grip, but it slid down your spine like butter regardless, revealing the soft skin underneath.

“I have a pair of your shorts in the bottom left drawer of my dresser. The couch is yours.” You pivoted again on your heel, one hand holding your dress up on your chest and the other pushing Smoker back through the doorway. “Now get out.” 

You shut the door. Smoker sighed and resigned himself to rifle through your dresser, wondering why he had clothes at your place at all. 

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Based off my personal headcanon that Smoker has a surprisingly extensive dating history and an equally surprising library of knowledge about girly stuff because he's an extremely involved boyfriend. I'd say most of his previous relationships had amicable break ups. Reader was also going to say "so you're kind of a whore" but decided against it.

[gatitties]

HELLO

Can I request an Oneshot of One Piece with a marine teen reader (14 y.o) who is the daughter of Red Hair Shanks after a one-night stand? She was taken in by Garp when she was 11 when her mom didn't wanna take care of her anymore cuz the mom was absent the rest of the reader's life and Garp was the grumpy granddad and trained her into a marine..like 6 feet 4 muscular girl (and everyone is questioning what the hell did Garp feed her with. Then Shanks comes to visit his bio daughter at the hospital after the reader saved Ace from being killed by Akaniu (that one scene where Ace saved Luffy when he leaped in the way to shield his brother from Akainu as the admiral struck cuz she felt bad and went against rules) by pushing both of them away and burning her a bit and now she has huge burn scar in her left side of the body and half her hair is gone and has to add margarine to heal her scar just for a bit and then Garp ordered her that she should not get up the bed until she is fully recovered. Shanks being the dad he is tries to have a convo and help her stand up when the doctors order her to do some exercise to get her body moving again for example:

-move your fingers a bit

-try to stand up

-when you suicide try to take a few steps

-and more margarine when you go to sleep

-do not sleep on your left side cuz will cause your skin a damage

The reader is confused after receiving affection from her own dad, cuz she doesn't know how to receive it back and is very insecure about it Shanks on the other hand doesn't bother at all and comfronts her.

(Also Ace and Luffy come to visit her more often and thank her for saving them and having a small sibling relationship alongside Sabo and Uta)

and the reader is trying her hardest not to cry and Garp is jealous

(sorry if this is long I'm just trying to make it understandable..have a nice day/night!!)

─ Shanks x daughter!reader (Platonic)

─ Summary: Your bravery helps you save a person unfairly judged, this whole incident generates a drastic change in your pace of life where it seems that your father is ready to show himself.

─ Warnings: None

You stretched your sore body, letting out a soft moan due to your recent injury, weeks had passed and you still had a hard time moving, but looking back, the pain wasn't that much in comparison to your actions, not being ashamed of your actions against everythingn that you had learned at the marine academy, you were lucky that they considered your actions something of age, since you were young, they let it go with a couple of punishments, they lowered your rank and prohibited you from being on duty for the two following years, but you didn't care much.

Garp was not so happy with that decision, but he couldn't scold you when you had saved his grandson from certain death, he was glad to have welcomed you that day, he couldn't feel anything but proud to see that despite having been strictly instructed to follow established order and law, you had your own thoughts and values.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

If it weren't for the fact that you were hurt badly, Garp probably would have hit you for finding you pacing around the room, you grimaced as you tried to smile, a little afraid of his overwhelming concern.

"The doctors told me that I couldn't stop walking, even if it was difficult, I can't stop moving while I recover, it's not like I was running a marathon tho."

He mumbled a few curses, making you return to the bed, now beginning your arm stretches, which were more painful due to the burn being on the upper part of your body.

"Why are you here? I thought you would come to visit tomorrow."

"Yes, but I have decided to go ahead to give you a surprise" all your attention went to the word 'surprise' with enthusiasm, being the teenager that you were, of course you were more than captivated by whatever the old man had for you "Ta-dah!"

He took a pair of wigs out of a bag, your expression fell slightly since you expected something else, but that didn't take away your enthusiasm, the attack that Akainu made on Ace in that battle left more wounds than you thought, and the fire spread faster than you thought, you lost some hair and sometimes you felt helpless without hair covering some parts of your face.

"Thank you… you didn't have to do it, and I could have waited until tomorrow anyway, why the rush?"

Now it was Garp's turn to sweat as he looked at you, he didn't want to admit it, but since Shanks saved you in battle and visited you more constantly, he felt a little jealous, although your father was unaware of your existence until relatively recently, proposing to take care of you and be present in your life from now on, it was Garp who raised and guided you all these years, plus he preferred not to meet Shanks at this time.

You were just confused, you always thought that your father had simply abandoned you, that he didn't want to know anything about your existence like your mother, and suddenly he is by your side showering you with affection and gifts. You took cautious steps with all that sudden affection, Garp wasn't a bad tutor, but his way of showing love was sometimes… brutal, your father's soft hugs were definitely something better than grandfather's crushing ones.

"Hey hey, grandpa is here too, Hello, Hello! We brought a lot of food to help you recover faster."

"Idiot, people don't have the same metabolism as you, besides…" Ace, who was entering through the door with Luffy, took the banana that was for you out of his hand, he was trying to devour it "What's the point of bringing food for someone if you are going to eat it?!"

"What are you two doing here? You are in one of the marine hospitals."

"We are not just two, look good old man!"

Sabo smiled at his grandfather, who remained silent for a few minutes, before bursting out with a furious scream, even though Garp was not going to tell on them, he couldn't help but give them one of his love fists, it had been a long time since he had seen the three gathered in the same place. You laughed at the scene, you never saw Ace, Luffy or Sabo, you only knew anecdotes that Garp shared with you, but you definitely didn't regret having saved Ace, being judged for being the son of the pirate king was absurd, it's not like he had chosen it, you felt even better when you found out that you were the daughter of the infamous yonko Shanks, since you would have probably been put on the gallows if you weren't part of the marines for the same reason as Ace.

The silent room soon filled with life once the trio entered, breaking into the peaceful time Garp wanted to spend with you, as if the commotion of his three grandchildren crammed into your bed while ranting about their adventures wasn't enough, the door opened suddenly, revealing the person who was missing to spill the old man's glass of patience.

"Looks like I'm a little late, sorry, I had to knock out some marines to get in."

The first thing he did was push the three idiots away from your bed, then he left the bouquet of flowers that he brought to decorate your sad room and finally he kissed your forehead as a greeting, not used to this gesture you simply looked down, squeezing your blanket that covered your legs.

"How are you feeling? Are you taking your medication? Have you put the cream on the burn? Have you done your daily stretches?"

You felt even more dizzy when he bombarded you with questions than when you were talking to the other three idiots even though they were much louder, you nodded silently, smiling slightly at him, he returned the gesture with a wider smile, although it was quickly wiped away when Luffy attacked him, climbing onto his back like a monkey while laughing almost causing them both to fall to the ground.

As much as you wanted to join their little fight, which Ace and Sabo joined in on, with your current state you would have to hold back just watching while Garp tried to silence them or he would have to kick them all out of here, if it could happen he would grow more gray hairs.

You felt warm watching everyone interact, in the short time you had spent with them, you managed to create a great bond, even with Uta, who couldn't be present most of the time but who you also considered part of the family.

Things calmed down a couple of hours later, leaving only the two adults and you in a pleasant silence after all the commotion those three had caused, it was time to leave, but before, Shanks approached you, holding your hand, making small circles with his thumb on your skin.

"I know this is a bit sudden and that maybe you don't trust me… but would you like to travel with me, discovering new horizons?"

Your eyes shone with excitement when you heard him, your heart warmed, you didn't dislike the job as a marine, but an opportunity like this… it would make you feel much freer than in headquarters, it would make you feel like you didn't need to worry about so many things at such a young age.

"Don't put stupid ideas in your daughter's head! She's a good marine and she's just a teenager, she'll go far when she's a woman!"

"Woah, calm down old man, she can choose for herself, besides, I'm not asking her to be a pirate, I have to start taking care of my responsibilities as a father and I won't be able to do it if she stays here."

"You know very well that she will sentence her destiny once they see her traveling with you, her entire future as a marine…"

Garp fumed from his ears, feeling how all the work and effort he had put into educating you and guiding you on the right path was crumbling before his eyes. Shanks only stuck out his tongue in a mocking manner, making a mark of irritation appear on Garp's forehead.

"Like I said, she chooses."

The two looked at you with different emotions reflected in their eyes, although they could already imagine what you were going to respond after seeing your look of determination and enthusiasm worthy of a child receiving Christmas gifts, without being able to hold back, you sealed a large part of your future with your decision, but you didn't care much if you were a pirate or a marine as long as you kept your beloved and unexpected family.

[leviathanspain]

mi amor

namor x avenger!reader

synopsis: after a long time running away from the one man who had promised you the world, you realize your fears have come to fruition

disclaimer: i have NOT seen the movie yet lmaooo i work all the time + i’m a cheap ass waiting for the pirated websites to upload the HD versions for the movie so bear with me if none of this is remotely accurate— based off of fics and clips i’ve seen

mi amor - my love

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you could hear the clamor of the fight. you had stayed back, the look of disappointment on shuri’s face when she tried to tug on you to help was like salt in your deep wound. you knew exactly who it was, having caught glimpses of their blue skin and their clothing, you felt the bile rise in your throat as panic surged your body.

had he truly found you again? after all this time?

you had spent the months after leaving, destroying every piece of your identity, faking your death, selling your belongings and erasing yourself from existence. for a time, it was easy. half the world had been snapped so half the people who once knew you, were gone.

but it didn’t make the struggle of it all any less. the avengers had dissolved, especially considering that half of your teammates were gone, you were left with one option, one that you weren’t really sure was reliable anymore.

wakanda had once let you call it home, and you hoped it would once again.

nakia’s voice was like music to your ears as the call had finally been picked up on the third ring.

your head fell into your hand with a sigh of relief, “nakia!” you nearly cried, “nakia, thank the gods..”

you heard a faint whisper of a man in the background before nakia responded with your name, “y/n? what’s wrong?”

your unloading of the situation took a mere five minutes, but nakia was already on her way with a jet to retrieve you in less than.

being back on wakanda was jarring. you had been here before, happy and accompanying bucky as he healed from hydra’s touch. and it was here, that you saw him for the very first time.

legends that your mother had told you never measured to his. he was pure magic, a mystical being that had you bowing on your knees.

he rose from the water as you felt the tears prick from your eyes. the darkness casted a shadow over his face, and it wasn’t until he was breathing your air, that you finally saw the beauty of him.

you felt the gasp of air leave your lungs, and instead, filled with the pounding water from down below.

you wanted to scream, feeling the burning of your lungs, you clawed at your throat, and even more at him, for his beauty was a facade for the evil that sat within him.

as he set a hand on your shoulder, intent on watching you die within his wrath, you gripped his hand, and let the fire of your pain burn through onto his skin.

he pulled back, hissing as he looked down at his injury. you collapsed at the same time, the water that made your lungs burn now emptied out on the ground, gasping for air you heaved.

“what..” you coughed, still gulping at the left over sea water, “the fuck?!” you yelled.

“i have the same question to ask you..” his voice was accented, a twinge of spanish just at the brink of his tongue you could almost hear it.

he looked down at his burn and smirked softly, “you are the fire they’ve warned about..”

you sent yourself back to reality.

“enough dwelling in the past..” you muttered. you mustered up your strength and stepped out onto the scene. it was less horrifying as you imagined, considering his style.

all the words fell immediately as you revealed yourself. shuri and ramonda both turned and the reveal of your betrayal played in their eyes.

“y/n.” his voice was like forbidden music to your ears. you turned your gaze away from them and faced him.

you regretted your decision to show, but you understood that this was partly your fault.

“k'uk'ulkan.” his name was like honey on your tongue, a sound to him that left him buzzing. you looked at him and wanted to beg the question, wanted to ask why he would go to such lengths to find you.

“don’t think that i didn’t know. i can feel you move amongst them, your heart is aligned with mine..” namor moved closer to you, “i felt them, their heartbeat, their energy..” namor whispered now, his words ever so enchanting.

you mustered up the courage and pushed him back roughly, the sound of sizzling flesh was heard just as his soldiers, stepped in front of him with weapons pointed at your neck.

you scoffed, “i was once considered your queen, your ruler and you my subjects, and you dare forget me so soon..” you stepped back, and ignored their faces as you stared at namor, “there is not a corner on this earth that you will leave unsearched, but there is the fact that you will never find him.” your words were like knives to his heart, and he seethed.

as you prepared to step back, run away as you have always done, the emotion that tugged at your heartstrings made you stop, and gaze him in the eye once more.

“how could you have done this to me, mi amor?” he was murmuring the words, and you looked back to see the wakandians glaring at you with betrayal, “i promised to give you the world,” he opened his arms and turned with a grimace, “even if the world is undeserving of your beauty, your power can change it, change them.” he glowered at the wakandians.

you shook your head, “how could i have stayed knowing your were walking the narrow line between justice and tyranny?” you echoed, “i made my decision, and i live with it everyday that he asks who his father is.” you sniffled, “it is now your turn to live with the consequences of your actions, mi amor.” the last words felt antagonizing, like salt to another deep wound.

the pain of walking away, knowing you had just given up another place you could’ve called home eventually, was tough. your son was with nakia, the only one entrusted with the information regarding his parentage, you had him blended into society, a child who lived in ignorance filled bliss.

you would give up your life, if it meant namor would never see him.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Meeting Interrupted

Author's note: This is the next part of Rotten Fate. Masterlist here. AO3

tagged: @ms--lobotomy @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts

warnings: body horror, loss of autonomy, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, please ask me to tag something if I've missed it/something bothers you

Summary: You decide to interrupt Typhus' Meeting with the thousand sons. What's he going to do? Make your life worse? Hah.

Once your lust dies down to the point after you can think clearly again, you mull over your current options. Your shitty “husband” calls you little Isha from time to time. Referring to the fact that you are his captive spouse that he is unable to permanently kill, nor blight with the horrific plagues and poisons of his Patron, Nurgle. What he seems to be entirely unaware of (and, good for her) is the fact that part of the reason why Isha does not attempt to escape Nurgle - other than being relatively safe from the predation of Slaanesh… Is that Isha works against Nurgle’s plots and plans by whispering the antidotes and cures that are always effective against his plagues and poisons.

While you can’t do that - Typhus doesn’t seem to make new poisons and plagues as Host of the destroyer hive - what you can do is attempt to fuck up his plans, whatever those may be. You have no idea what his plans are at the moment, but he did ask you to stay put while he parlayed with his cousin. And you can waddle your way into causing Problems for him on purpose by interrupting the meeting.

You’re also hungry as fuck, and there is no food anywhere within Typhus’ rooms. His evil bees buzz menacingly as you approach the door that leads out of his rooms, but you glare at them “Fuck off, you ugly shits. I’m hungry as hell and he didn’t leave me anything to eat. And I’m eating for at least two with-” You pat your distended belly. You can sense the little mind growing within you. The little one does not feel tainted by Chaos… At least not yet. Part of you hopes that you’ll find a way to get the child to safety, somehow.

Between Typhus’ potent psychic abilities and you being a perpetual there is no chance that the child you’re carrying won’t be a psyker of potent ability, once you give birth to them. Whether or not they are going to be a Perpetual is ambiguous to you. Neoth sired more than a few bastards before deciding to rule Humanity as a whole - or attempt to do so. Some of them were psykers. Some were Perpetual. Most, however, were neither… Though that was long before psykery became more commonplace amongst Humanity as a whole. 

The bees buzzed ominously, but apart from a full cloud of the ominous little fuckers flying around and behind you, they didn’t actually sting you this time. Which was nice, as you used a bit of psychic energy to flick the internal mechanism of the door open, through which you moved through…

The view of the hallway you were walking in was just as rank and dismal as the first time you’d seen it, having been picked up and thrown over one of Typhus’ shoulders unceremoniously… Weeks? Months? Years? Ago. You weren’t sure how long you’ve spent in Typhus’ captivity. You deliberately tried not to track the days, as the answer would only upset and distress you. You silently hoped that your crew was still alive and thriving. 

You pass mumbling cultists and tiny daemons, none of whom take notice of your passage, as you are using a little bit of Psykery to go unnoticed by the beings around you as you waddle your way over to where your captor and his Very Important Guest are either talking, posturing at one another or fighting.

Or possibly a combination of all three of them.

You can tell that you’re getting close to where Typhus is, by the way that his Evil Bees have landed on the simple white dress that you’re wearing. It’s the only piece of clothing he’s given you - you haven’t been allowed even any under things or even sandals. Which made traveling through the unpleasantly biological horror of a ship that Typhus had been gifted by his Patron a wildly unpleasant experience. 

You reached the door behind which was Ahriman and Typhus, along with at least a dozen of their brothers each. You drop the glamor, startling the four guards standing in front of it. You stare at the two Death Guard, ignoring the shifting and growling Thousand Sons. “I am going into that room, to talk to my husband. You can either step aside or open the door for me.”

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you dressed like that? How are you dressed like that and not -” One of the Thousand sons began to growl, reaching out to grab you.

You lean away from his touch “I would very strongly suggest you don’t try that again. My…  Husband’s little helpers don’t like it when strangers try to grab me. I am a Perpetual, and unable to be affected by the…” You gesture to the filth, stagnation and decay all around you “All of this unless I explicitly allow myself to be, which I don’t. Dying like this seems like a misery.”

“What do you mean by -AAahhhh! NO no no no no! Get it off, get it off, get it off of me!” The grabby Thousand Son wailed as one of Typhus’ destroyer bees landed on his out-stretched gauntleted hand, stinger poised to plunged through the armored plate. 

You snort and scoop up the angry bee, booping it on it’s snout “No. Bad bee! He didn’t do anything to try to hurt me, and stopped trying to grab me when I told him to. No stinging guests!”

The Destroyer bee buzzed unhappily in your hands, but did not sting you. You roll your eyes and settle it back on one of your shoulders. You go back to looking at the Death Guard at the door “Let me in to see my husband right now. Or I will escalate things. The Emperor of Mankind didn’t want me to stay on Terra after I left the Astartes project for a number of reasons. Do you want to find out what those are personally?” 

“... No. It’s just… Oldest Brother is in the middle of delicate negotiations and -” One of the Death Guard tried to explain.

Adorable. You kind of want to pat his helmeted head. Bless his gross, bloated hearts he’s trying. You reach up and pat one of his gauntleted arms gently “Don’t worry. I will handle my husband. I”ve done quite a few negotiations, you know. During my time as a Rogue Trader and before that. I remember what it was like during the Dark Age of Technology, though those memories are dim and distant now.” You sigh, shaking your head a little. It was a shame how things had gone to such heights, before crashing and burning so spectacularly because of the Eldari being too bored and horny so they decided to try and make a new powerful warp entity. 

“... As you say, Lady of Mercy.” Both of the Death Guard murmur, opening the door for you.

You blink a couple of times as you enter the main conference room of the massive spaceship. Lady of Mercy, hmm? That’s a new one. Did Typhus give it to you? Or did some of the others, now that you were here to distract him from some of his crueler pursuits at times? “Good boys.” You murmur distantly, patting them on the armored arm once again as you pass by.

Typhus and Ahriman are standing on opposite sides of the table, pointing and yelling at one another at considerable volume. There are a lot of very tense mutated astartes on both sides watching their eldest brothers having a go at each other, in regards to centuries if not millennia old slights and petty squabbling. 

Ah, family. Such a messy thing it often is. 

You teleport onto the table in a flash of cyan warp light, making sure to make enough sound and light to catch the attention of everyone in the room.

The yelling blessedly stops as you appear on top of the table, heavily pregnant and half-covered in Typhus’ bees. The unadorned white silk dress that fell just above your knees, the hem plunging down just far enough to give a peek at your cleavage and sleeveless, the thin straps starting to fall off of your shoulders. The pregnancy bulge of your belly quite prominent as the soft silk clings to your body,

For several seconds, there is a profound silence as the assembled Astartes process your sudden and unexpected arrival.

You allow yourself to giggle, smiling up at both Ahriman and Typhus, before demurely hiding your smile behind a hand. Your other hand coming up to cup your swollen belly, knowing that the motion would catch the attention of many in the room. “Greetings, First captain Ahriman of the Thousand Sons. I do apologize for Ty’s behavior. We were a little… Mm… Busy, when you stopped by for a visit.” You allow a demure blush to spread across your cheeks as your voice dips into a coquettish purr, your eyes going half-lidded for a moment.

The destroyer bees that were resting upon your body begin to stir and buzz, likely in response to the shifting and heightening emotions of their Host. They are the only sound being made in the room, to your unending amusement. Your incongruous presence and statements seemed to have stalled their allegedly enhanced minds. Then again Chaos rots even the best of beings. 

Before things can escalate in ways that you don’t want them to, you walk over to where Typhus is standing, needing to go up on your tiptoes to kiss his corroded helm. You stage-whisper, knowing that the enhanced hearing of all of the Astartes present will allow them to hear you, if they aren’t deaf or otherwise hard of hearing, leaning into Typhus “Hubby, dearest, the baby and I are hungry… And you never told me where you keep the safe food.” You give him what you hope is a flirty pout “So I had to come find you. Your little friends were only a bit naughty.” You murmur, gently plucking up one of the ominously buzzing bees and pressing a faux-affectionate kiss to it’s unpleasantly furry and matted body before letting it go.

It buzzed back over to Typhus, swaying and flying as if it was drunk. Your amusement only increases. 

No one else has yet to do or say a single thing. It’s as if they’ve all turned into very strange statues. You know they haven’t as you can sense their rapidly shifting minds and emotions plainly, but none of them have yet to actually react. 

It’s very funny. It’s quite possible that none of them have seen a woman in thousands of years, and even longer since they’ve seen a pregnant one. The poor dears are dreadfully caught off guard and deeply, deeply confused. At least the Thousand Sons are. The Death Guard are mostly worried.

You tilt your head up and reach for Typhus’ helm, giving him a look of mock-concern. “Darling? Husband? Sweetheart? Why aren’t you responding?” You pout more as your nimble fingers find the catches on his helmet, pressing them in before twisting and removing his helmet, revealing his face. You set it down on the table before you close your eyes, going up on your tiptoes once again and press a kiss to his flesh-cheek. You lean against his armor -which is eternally cool to the touch and wrap your arms around his neck, batting your lashes up at him, peering through them as you ask “Husband? Typhus? Ty-darling?”

Typhus continues to stare at you with glowing, rotted eyes, seemingly transfixed to the spot. He hasn’t breathed in minutes -though you’re not sure that he needs to, given his long-ago transformation into the Herald of Nurgle. 

“Who are you?” Ahriman demanded, his voice strangled and deeply confused.

“Hmm? Oh me? I’ve gone by many names, and held hundreds of titles over the course of my very, very long life. I’ve died a few times as well, but it doesn’t stick, as I am a Perpetual… After the Unification of Terra, I found myself working directly with Him for a time. As soon as the Sol system was fully conquered and He started the Rogue Trader program, I was off to the distant stars, with my first retinue in tow. I did that for several thousand years… Until honey-sweet Typhus here decided to capture me in his clever web of death and sickness. Since then I’ve been his wife, per his decision.” You sigh. 

“You… A perpetual… One who has worked alongside the Carrion Emperor? How much… How much knowledge of Psykery do you possess? What could you teach those of us interested in the Arcane arts? Surely you would rather be around more psykers, rather than the fetid stink of Nurgle’s chosen Bastards?” Ahriman breathed, avarice in his voice “I would be more than willing to play the role of -”

“Don’t. You. Dare finish that sentence, you two-faced deceiver!” Typhus growled thunderously, two of his tentacles swiftly slid out from wherever he usually keeps them and wrapped securely around your body, carefully supporting the weight of the baby in your belly. He pulls you tightly to his chest, making sure not to squash your belly against his armor. “I have listened to your endless whining and plots about finding some ridiculous library that may not even exist for too long! Begone from this ship, you will have no aid from the Death Guard. If you refuse to leave, I will have you removed by force.”

Ahriman’s glare intensified “I was not speaking to you, Typhus, but the Psyker you are holding captive. Gods above only know why she seems to actually be sweet on you, though I suppose that honey of yours can addle even the greatest of minds.” His gaze shifts to you “Should you wish to leave this fetid, stinking bastard and his army of undead thralls, call for me and I shall whisk you away from all of this pungent suffering and treat you in the way that a psyker of your age and experience should be.”

With that, the first captain of the Thousand Sons sent out a psychic pulse. A moment later he and all of his brothers vanished from Typhus’ ship. 

“... Awfully dramatic fellow, isn’t he?” You murmur, an amused grin appearing on your face as you look up at Typhus, trying to get a read on his emotional state. It’s difficult, with the walls that he’s put up. 

“... You wouldn’t leave me for him would you?” Typhus asked, his voice surprisingly small and unsure. 

You blink, throw your head back and laugh “Go with him? Please. The endless machinations of his Patron and underlings would have me in a murder-loop within the week. Would I rather be able to wander freely throughout realspace on my ship, the one you took me from? Yes. But him? Hahahaha. No. His patron is far too capricious for my tastes.” You give him a little kiss on the cheek, for emphasis. 

“... I see. You mentioned being hungry, my flower?” Typhus rumbled, sounding calmer.

“Yes! Also, hand please. Unarmored.” You instruct, grabbing at one of his hands, which he gives you. It takes you a moment to take the gauntlet off, and you carefully grab the fleshy fingers of his hand, pressing them against your belly.

The little one in your belly gently kicks against the press, and Typhus gasps.

“Oh! Hello, little one. I am your papa… I am so excited to meet you, when you’re ready to enter the world.” Typhus murmured, his glowing eyes widening with awe and delight. He clicks his fingers and points at one of his brothers “Pestilan, get my wife food. The rest of you, clear this room and check to make sure those treacherous sorcerers didn’t leave any nasty surprises left for us to find for denying them their wants.”

“Yes sir!” The other Death Guards murmur at the same time, swiftly leaving the room.

[voices-of-favor]

At last: Klara of the Voices, known as "Little sister" of the chapter (even though she is larger than most of her battle-brothers)

Decorated with mementos from past battles

If any trinket gets lost, she will just have to destroy an important chaos marine and make another

This makes her the fourth (Champion Nikanor not pictured here) member of the company hero squad, along with Deathwatch veteran Michaeas and lead company ancient Kristof

[mikeyss1ut]

hey girly 🤍 hope ur okay! is it possible for you to write a chad meeks x fem reader angst. i’m dying for one.

Ok this isn’t like super angsty but it’s kind of sad.

Prompt: instead of Anika being on the latter it’s you, the only difference being you live and live through the pain.

It was never your intention of getting with the collage jack ass jock. But when you really got to know him he wasn’t a jack ass after all. He was sweet and caring and he loved you for who you were. But then ghost face attacks hit again and it wasn’t so good for him or you.

It didn’t help that the whole group thought it was you and Ethan. Never trust the love interest. Right? Wrong! Not in this case.

You were airdropped the photo of Quinn being attacked while you were sitting on the couch and glansed up to see Chad running over to you picking you up and holding your hand. He had been at the table with the “core four” that you weren’t in. But hey, if you survived they might let it be the core five!

Quinn’s “life less” frame was pushed out of the door and ghost face appeared. He attacked the first two people he saw. Mindy and Chad. Stabbing Mindy in the leg and Slicing a cut in Chad arm. He went more for Chad though tried to finish him off. But you hit him and then he went to you. And Chad tried to get up but he really couldn’t. Ghost face stabbed you and threw you against the wall.

Tara and Anika had already been out of there but Sam stayed, helped hit ghost face as you 4 gathered in a little room.

Danny, Sams man put out a latter for you guys to climb through, but since you, Mindy, and Chad lost blood it was best Sam went first. Them Mindy. And then…

“Ok, baby you go come on.” Chad said

“No, no, Chad no I- I can’t please just go first I- I’ll be right behind you, ok? “

“No, y/n go first!” He said

“No! GO! Your wasting time just please.” You were already historically crying.

He listened and went first, then you got up.

“Y/n come on baby please you got this don’t look down!” Chad said

“Y/n come on please” they all yelled.

You slowly went across the latter until suddenly the chatter of telling you to hurry stopped.

“W- what?” Then you looked behind you to see ghost face.

“No, oh my god no.” You cried even more. You tried holding your grip but your hand slid off you almost fell, almost. But since you were a little more than halfway to the other side of the window Chads long ass arms grabbed you, and pulled you back up he almost fell out the window too.

You were just about in, but ghost face teased you and shook the latter, you barley held on , until you saw Sams hand, you quickly grabbed on, as your other hand held on to the latter as best as you could. You don’t know how it happed but you managed to get in the window and as soon as you did you fell straight down into Chads arms as he held you and had a sheet he got off Danny’s bed on your wound holding in as much blood as he can.

He pressed a million kisses to your face and just repeated “I’m so sorry.” To you.

As the whole group turned you both the only thing that could come out of there mouths was “I’m sorry we thought it was you.” As Danny called the police.

[littledarknesgold]

Shadow on the wall.

Warnings: yandere, mention of murders, persecution, obsession, possession.

You froze, huddled under the table. Listening to the sounds and to your ancient instincts, telling you to freeze and become as small as possible, unnoticeable to whoever is in your apartment.

You never expected that your apartment, which you thought was the safest place on earth, would turn out to be a nightmare trap.

You had no idea the evening would end like this. You had no idea that the sound of a light scratching on your front door was anything more significant than a wild or stray animal. This was your price for the mistake.

Horror gripped your organs with an icy, clawed paw, forcing you to swallow your cries and any sounds.

Now you were remembering all the weird shit that happened this week.

But what was the first sign?

A pack of stray dogs disappearing? A lonely Blood Angel wandering around your front door? Maybe a couple of your friends are missing? Or maybe scary ruby-red eyes looking into your windows at night? It doesn't matter now. It's too late...

You hold your breath listening to the sounds in your apartment. It's so damn quiet. As if even the neighbors don't exist through the wall.

Maybe it's gone?

Your hopes were not destined to come true, because a huge figure covered you with a shadow under the table.

[steakkid]

went to the seaside the other day and made some drawings that i kinda hate

[moodymisty]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝕸𝖊

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1 of 5 - Part 2

Author's Note: It's here! The first chapter of the Yandere Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere Night Lord love triangle(corner) fic! It's going to be 4 chapters (5 actually you'll see tehe) and I drafted a good portion of it in advance so it should be smooth posting? We'll see. Enjoy!

Summary: A Night Lord becomes interested in you while you stand under the eyes of your Salamander guardian, and you find yourself stuck between two titans.

Relationship: Yandere!Salamander/Fem!Reader/Yandere!Night Lord

Warnings: Hints of nsfw at points, Yandere, Size differences, Very toxic suffocating relationship(s), Some knight/princess dynamics, Demeaning language, Both these guys have hero complexes, Violence blood and bruises and possibly death to say without spoilers

Word Count: 2068

Word travels fast aboard even the largest of ships, you had learned quite quickly.

Space marine legions are not fond of working with one another, was what you had learned first. Many times even different squads within this same Legion can butt heads, as different styles of commanding and battle conflict with one other. Salamanders often try and remain cordial when problems within them arise, but friction was and is inevitable.

The second, was Vulkan was apparently quite firm with his legion that they were to welcome their temporary allies with respect. At least that is what you’ve heard from any Salamander that you’ve heard mumbling as you pass by, or any that have given you a moment of their time. That’s all you know, and these tidbits of knowledge fail to put together a full picture that you can understand. Their lips have been quite tight other than the bare minimum they believe you need to know.

Or what you can get from them if you ask very nicely; Much like the Commissars and Lords you've dealt with over the years, it seems Salamanders aren't immune to a bit of flattery also. You just need to make sure he doesn't find out, as you know how displeased he gets whenever he finds out you went wandering around chattering with his brothers.

Speaking of...

You can ask him about it; You just need to wait for him.

He always visits you in the librarium, once his second round of training is concluded. He then goes for his five hours of rest, and the cycle restarts. Though even if it isn't that time, you know he still keeps a keen eye on you.

You don’t wish to bother him with an issue as seemingly meaningless as gossip, but none of your fellows have been able to piece together what's happening, as none of the Salamanders have loosened their lips about it in the slightest.

It's made you more than a bit unnerved; Knowing that something is wrong but no one will tell you what it is. The tenseness in your neck is worse, and sirens and calls once normal now make you jolt when they sound off.

The large piece of parchment in front of you remains nearly empty, apart from the crude outline. Commander Artellus's face is fresh in your mind, but you for some reason can't put it to parchment.

You hear the sound of harsh, heavy boots on the ground, and turn to see who you've been waiting for coming towards you. You shift in your seat and turn to see him coming.

“Ralkan; You’re back,”

You smile wide at him, a put down the pen you'd been fruitlessly trying to use. The way his eyes look down at you is warm, his helmet hanging on the side of his hip. He stands close to where you sit alone at the massive table, covered in a mess of materials. The ink in your well shakes with waves, when he steps closer.

“You should have been there this time. I feel like I'm missing something now without your curious looks.”

You smile even wider and laugh, remembering the time. He had outpreformed Salamanders his senior, and you wondered if he was overdue for an ascension in rank, or if he was simply showing off.

“I'll come next time. As long as your battle brothers don’t mind me seeing your training again.”

He places a massive gauntlet on your shoulderblades, thumb against the side of your neck.

"They won't, I am sure of it. Though I hope you'll reserve your cheering only for me again."

His hand brushes along the upper half of your back before it slides away, his chainsword hanging neatly on his back. He looks out the massive window to the vast reaches of space directly in front of your makeshift desk for a moment, before pulling his bolter off his thigh and checking it.

He’s always meticulous. He’s been trained into flawless discipline, and it shows in every aspect of his existence. From the way he keeps his thoughts closed to the way each piece of armor and each weapon must be meticulously maintained.

You can hear the mechanics of his armor shift as he moves, but you can only tolerate few more beats of the near silence before you can’t help it anymore. Your pen twirls in your hand as a soothing gesture before you speak up.

“Ralkan?”

You look up to him, sniffling from the disturbed dust in your nose. He turns to look at you as you abandon your parchment, and finally put pen down and place your ink stained hands in your lap.

You hesitate for a moment, pursing your lips and looking away from his hard gaze as he turns back to you.

“What is happening?”

He is genuinely confused by your question for a moment, before he realizes what it is you're asking about, and his face stiffens. But still he doesn't answer. It irks you; Thinking that he’s trying to keep this all from you. You add on to your earlier question.

“I know that you are going to be fighting alongside another legion, but why are all of you acting like it's something you're all dreading?”

Perhaps you might simply be a guest aboard this ship, gifted from Terra to a legion eager to put their deeds to written memory, but you wish to know more than the servitors do. You pull your hands from your lap and lightly slap the table with them, gripping the edge.

“Ralkan, Who are the Night Lords?”

It is so instantly apparent that you struck something in him, as his body visibly tenses and his face briefly flashes with anger as a legion's name other than his own leaves your tongue.

He makes eye contact with you, the burning red of his eyes making your curiosity waver. But you still want to know- need to know. He takes a step closer, and his left hand rests against the surface of the table. He lets out a tense breath.

“The Night Lords are the 8th legion. They," Ralkan tries to find the words, pausing for a moment. "The way they wage battle is in near direct opposition to us Salamanders."

He speaks the name with a stern, cold demeanor. It fills you with a hesitant sort of interest.

These legions; Have they really developed cultures so unique that they find themselves unrecognizable to each other?

“They have no respect. They will cull entire cities for the slightest infraction.” He looks to you, and he catches that your curiosity it still taking hold; You lack the fear that he's trying to instill in you.

He takes a step forward, and you can hear his armor hiss and grind as he lowers to a knee, now only a head taller than you as you sit. He puts his hand on your shoulder again, but it lacks the gentleness it had the last time, as he grabs tight and forces you to face him. You wouldn’t be able to pull away even if you wanted to; And while he is still trying to be gentle, his gauntlet still yearns to bruise your skin underneath your clothing. The seams of his armor dig into your flesh even through the fabric.

“They are going to be crawling over the ship soon. Do not let them even see you. You cannot run from them and they will know it.” His hand makes sure you can’t look even the tiniest bit away from him. “They will take advantage of your weakness. You must stay here, in your quarters, or close to me. I was charged with protecting you, and I will see it through.”

There’s not many places on this ship you go, at least without him. He is your guard, or perhaps more accurately your handler. He is in charge of making sure you don’t wander where you don’t belong, as even if the Salamanders have been welcoming to a remembrancer on their ship, they have their limits. For your safely and their privacy.

This ship- A world for giants, it isn't meant for someone like you either. Ralkan makes it a bit easier to navigate.

Though out of all the titles he's been given, he seems to enjoy calling himself your knight first and foremost. You assume it’s simply a part of their culture, you’ve heard other Salamanders call themselves knights as well. The tone is different, but you assume it’s simply Ralkan’s own brand of oddity. Perhaps he isn't fully cognizant of the intimate undertone behind saying such a thing to you.

Stuck in his grip, your nose wrinkles as you try to say something in defiance, to learn a bit more, but you know this it all you'll get from him. Even if you ask sweetly.

“I just wanted to know what was happening. I'll," You turn your face away from him and blow air from between your tight lips. "I'll stop the questions about it."

There isn’t much you can say otherwise in the matter anyhow. You want to trust him, and to listen to him, but perhaps it’s simply curiosity that makes you hesitate on the matter. Or naivety he probably assumes, as much as that irritates you.

He lets out an audible sigh of relief, and loosens the hand on your shoulder, it drifting up your neck before it cups your jaw. The other joins it on the opposite side, holding your face in his gauntlets. They're so gentle, even with cold ceramite between your skin and his.

“You know I do this to protect you, yes?” He continues, his eyes soft as they gaze over you. “I only want for you to be safe here. With me. I have seen these astartes before; I know what they are capable of.”

His eyes are warm, brow softened. You always enjoy when he looks at you this way, even if you might fear of what lays between you being far beyond the supposed title of knight and his charge. 

He leans forward, and his forehead touches your own. You feel like he wishes to do more, but is forcing it back. Your bare hand lays overtop of his gauntlet, and you smile at him.

But after a moment, he leans back away from you.

“I must leave now. My brothers and I are part of the battalion that is due to greet our temporary allies.” 

You so desperately don’t want him to leave, but at the same time, you wonder if the weight on your chest will finally dissipate if he does.

He rises, and in doing so also removes his hands from your jaw. His cape shifts behind him just barely brushing against the floor, and you swear you can hear the crackling of a vox channel in his helmet. His battalion must be calling for him.

“I will return soon. Please, do not forget what I have said.” You nod in understanding, and pick up your pen. He smiles at you after you do, and turns to leave. You turn to watch for a moment, until he's out of your sight. You turn back to face the table and let out a sigh, rubbing your jaw.

You didn’t want him to leave, but at times Ralkan can be so, suffocating. His very energy is that way, many of the astartes are, but Ralkan seems to have his grip around you particularly tight.

You sum it up to him being dedicated to the safely of their brand new remembrancer. The sheen of a new toy that hasn't worn off yet. Or perhaps him simply wishing to make sure you don't deviate from the path, and tread where you aren't welcome.

You assume the ladder, though the way he looks at you fills you with doubt.

You aren't opposed to him being fond, but he is so overwhelming. You might consider yourself lucky you think you feel the same way, as you don't know if you'd be able to get free of his grip if you didn't.

You don’t forget his words, but as you write word after word, and the drawing of Commander Artellus's face slowly forms, your mind begins to fall into the paper, and his voice becomes little more than a tickle in the back of your mind.

[umtrem]

pretty ladies 💥

day 2: pirate queen