No Beta We Die Like Men - Tumblr Posts

Sooooooo here ya go!!!!! 10fuckingK of self-indulgent sick Phillip Carlyle.  I’m not subjecting all a y’all to a 10K long post so I’m just doing this.  Please like it.

make every moment count

​​Tamar x f!Reader

A/N: Full nsfw version is here :)

Word count: ~2.8k

Summary: Tamar tries to defend your honor on a night away from the Volkvolny. 

Warnings: Attempted SA, slightly NSFW, slight violence, power dynamics.

She’s standing up at the bar, it’s crowded, several ships have pulled in within the last few days and it always makes for a busy night. She is well aware of Tamar’s eyes on her back, watching her every move. It’s protective in a cute way, she knows y/n can handle her own, but still likes to keep an eye out, ‘just in case’. She’s waiting patiently for her turn, she’s already had a few drinks and doesn’t mind waiting a few extra minutes. A shoulder roughly pushes her to the side, shoving her further away from the barkeep. 

“Hey!” she protests, turning to look at the person. The man in question is obviously Fjerdan, would be considered mildly attractive - if she was into men. But, he reeks of beer and fish that’s been left out a few days too long, his teeth are slightly yellowed as he smiles. 

“Girls don’t need drinks.” His words come out in broken kerch, a Fjerdan accent. She rolls her eyes and ignores his comment, shoving him back out of her way with surprising strength, and takes her previous position. His frustrated grunt sounds behind her, and she ignores it. She’s dealt with his type before, Fjerdan deckhands on their first few trips who haven’t learned their place yet. Most of them have never seen a woman carry a weapon, let alone try and order their drinks in a bar. Saints forbid she carry a weapon and order her own drinks. Her knowledge of Fjerda is unfortunately skewed and limited to what she’s seen from Fjerdan sailors. Maybe one day she’ll visit, if they ever stop burning and executing people like her.

She freezes when she feels his hand harshly make contact with her ass. It’s obviously intentional and she’s filled with fury. It’s one thing to shove her out of the way for drinks, but another completely to try and grope her. It won’t end well for him, especially with Tamar watching her like a hawk. Maybe her senses are slowed by the alcohol but a few seconds pass before she turns around, arm pulled back - ready to break his nose, but he’s already being dragged out. Tamar had gotten there first. The entire room has gone silent, all eyes watching the Shu girl drag a tall, well built, sailor outside like he’s a doll. 

“Saints” y/n curses under her breath before following them outside. It’s approaching winter in Ketterdam, and the air is growing crisp again. Not enough to need a jacket, but not enough to be comfortable in short sleeves. Not for the first time, she wishes for the mild falls and winters of Novyi Zem, her favorite place to dock. Weddle is beautiful - clear seas, bright skies, full of colors and the smells of different spices. Ketterdam smells like fish and waste - to her at least, some people love it here, but she’d rather be almost anywhere else. 

A small crowd gathers as Tamar pushes the man out the door, into the open space in front of the pub. Y/n smiles as she watches her punch him in the face, something flushes inside her, something she needs to ignore right now, it’s not the time and definitely not the place. Her smile drops as he calls her foul names. Her eyes narrow and she stalks up behind him, bending to grab a small stone off the floor. 

“Hey idiot.” She launches the stone at the back of his head, and it meets his target. His face turns back to her, he looks oafish, and she can see the purple bruise already forming on his cheek. He’s caught off-guard enough that he misses the kick she lands right to his groin. He’s not as phased as she would’ve hoped but she dodges his weak attempt to fight back. A large figure steps in front of her, and shoves him back - he tumbles several feet away into the dirt. It’s Tolya. Y/n tries to dodge past him after the man, but Tolya throws her over his shoulder. She grumbles, pounding weakly into his back. 

“I had him.” 

“I know. We’re getting out of here before the two of you get us in any more trouble.” 

Y/n just huffs, but doesn’t argue with him. She notices Tamar following them a few paces behind, another crewmate by her side, evidently trying to keep her from turning around. She stills hears Tamar still cursing obscenities at him over her shoulder. Now that y/n’s being dragged away, she knows Tamar won’t stick around any longer. The man’s crewmates are holding him back, keeping him from trying to retaliate further - a smart move. 

A few streets down, Tolya finally lets y/n down. Tamar’s caught up, and was walking right beside them - but didn’t do anything to get Tolya to let y/n down. 

“Traitor” she mutters once her feet are back on solid ground. Tamar just winks and wraps an arm around her shoulder. 

“We can’t take you two anywhere.” Tolya grunts. His voice sounds disappointed, but she can see the amusement in his eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Y/n says. “We’re a great source of entertainment.” 

“More like trouble. Can’t go more than three visits without one of you starting something.”

Her eyes narrow. “He started it.” 

“You’re right.” He sighs.  

They all laugh, and split up for the night. Tolya and the other crewmate head back to the ship, but they’d opted to stay at an inn, taking a break from the Volkvolny for a night. Getting some time and space alone may have been a big motivating factor. As far as the crew officially knows, they are just platonic friends, but y/n knows they aren’t fooling anyone - but they have so far refused to officially tell anyone. In the name of professionalism - as much as you can get in a pack of rogues and mercenaries, they keep it to themselves. Tolya knows, of course, Tamar can’t keep anything from him.

Y/n links her arm through Tamar’s, drawing her as close as she can while walking. “You know it’s incredibly attractive when you try to protect my honor.” 

“Try?” She said, turning to face her. “I’m pretty sure I did, there wasn’t any try there.” 

“I’m certain that was me.” There’s a small smile on her face, the mischievous kind. She knows what kind of argument she’s starting. 

“Who’s the one who threw the first punch?” 

“Who’s the one who threw the last?” 

“Technically that was Tolya.” They reached their destination for the night, an inn well known to them, and luckily there’s a room available. Y/n hands over some Kruge in exchange for a key - attached to a chicken bone, and thanks the innkeeper before letting Tamar take her hand again, following her upstairs.  

“Still, I won.” Y/n continues their argument from before. 

“This is a competition now?” Her tone is light, and there’s amusement in her eyes. 

“Isn’t everything?” 

“That’s one way to look at things.” Tamar keeps a firm grip on her hand, tugging her with more urgency up the stairs towards their room. She counts the numbers on the doors. 

“You’re absolutely ridiculous” she says to her back, barely keeping up. 

“You love it.” she says without turning around. 

“It’s possible.” 

“Probable.” This time she does turn around, and her grin is infectious. Y/n can’t help but smile back. 

She groans anyway, “please don’t start talking like him.” They’ve reached their door now and y/n steps in front to unlock the door, her fingers fumbling slightly with the key - maybe from nerves, maybe from mead. Tamar wraps her arms around her and plucks the key out of her hands, unlocking the door with a wink that makes her roll her eyes. She gives her a gentle shove inside and follows her, closing the door behind them.  

As soon as the door is locked, her back is pressed up against it. Not too roughly, but not gentle either. Tamar’s body follows, notching perfectly into hers. She loves the feeling of the soft leathers pressed up against her chest, the hilt of the knife strapped to Tamar digging into her stomach. 

Tamar’s forearms are braced on either side of her head, and her forehead presses against y/n’s. “I love seeing you punch someone.” she says, her voice low and breathy. 

“That’s probably a bad thing.” y/n replies, but can’t help the pink flush that slowly fills her cheeks at the praise. The corners of Tamar’s lips turn up, and y/n’s eyes narrow, knowing she can sense her blood flow. It’s an unfair advantage, she knows exactly what each word and action does to her, and no matter how much she denies it, Tamar can tell if she’s lying or not. 

“Depends who you’re punching.” 

“Maybe i’ll make it a habit.” 

“Slow down.” She laughs, “as much as I like it you probably shouldn’t go around punching people because of that.” 

“You probably shouldn’t try to tell me what to do.” Y/n’s eyebrows raise slightly. Her hands pushing at Tamar’s shoulders so she can take in her whole expression. She creates enough space between them that she can cross her arms and tilt her head slightly. It’s a challenge, and Tamar takes it. 

Quicker than she can blink, her hands grasp y/n’s wrists, and pin them above her head with one hand. The other comes to press two fingers up under her chin, tilting her chin up so she can meet her eyes. The expression in the other girl’s gaze sends goosebumps down y/n’s spine, and her blood rushing straight down. 

“I remember quite clearly you like being told what to do.” Her breath catches, she searches for words, something to respond with, another sarcastic remark, but she can’t find any. The winning smirk on Tamar’s face makes her eyes narrow. She’s not backing down, not yet at least. Tamar’s grip on her wrists is light, and she yanks her arms down, flipping their positions so she’s pressed against the door instead. 

A slight look of shock passes across Tamar’s face, and y/n takes the chance to slide one hand up her body to rest on her throat. A smile crosses Tamar’s face, and it infuriates her. Her hand follows hers, covering the hand on her throat and pressing firmer. “You have to actually mean it.” Somehow she’s the one pinned to the wall, but still in control of the whole situation. 

Y/n’s jaw drops. Tamar moves her hand off her throat, and leans down to grip underneath both of her thighs. Moving on instinct and muscle memory rather than conscious thought, y/n jumps, wrapping her legs around her waist, and her arms around her neck. 

Tamar’s lips graze across her ear, “good girl” and her entire face flushes, she’s certain her skin is completely red now. She walks them over to the bed, her eyes focused on hers, and gently throws her down.

Y/n’s brows furrow when Tamar doesn’t follow her on the bed, she reaches up to tug her down. 

Tamar sighs, eyes looking down to gaze at her. “Weapons.” 

“What?” 

“We need to take our weapons off.” 

Y/n laughs, and takes the hand Tamar offers. She follows her over to the dresser, and between the two of them they leave a small armory behind, kicking their shoes and throwing their holsters off at the same time. She doesn’t waste any time getting her launched back onto the bed, practically throwing her from halfway across the room. Y/n bounces on the bed with a laugh, hands grasping at the sheets to keep herself from falling off. 

Seconds later, Tamar hovers over y/n, arms propped to brace either side of her head. She attempts to arch her body up to meet hers, but a hand on her throat pinned her down, she lets out a small, involuntary, moan. It’s embarrassing how quickly she can make her wet, they haven’t even kissed yet, their lips haven’t met and yet she’s soaked completely. Y/n is tired of it. She reaches her hands up to cup the back of Tamar’s head to pull her down. To her surprise, Tamar lets her and they stop just a hair’s breadth away from each other. The golden tilted eyes dig into hers, and she pauses for a few moments. Her eyes are golden, with flicks of light brown. Y/n keeps eye contact, trying to memorize every bit of them she can. She watches as her eyes shift down towards her lips, and knows the pause is coming into an end. The kiss is dominating, possessive, and makes her toes curl. Every second is savored, every move of their lips, every touch, every feeling and sensation. They get so little time together - so little intimate time, that any second feels too precious to waste.

Later

Her fingers run through her hair, letting her rest on her chest with one arm splayed over her stomach. Her eyes are closed peacefully, and y/n listens to her heart beat, enjoying the steady rhythm. Minutes or hours could’ve passed before she felt Tamar move. She grumbles but the other girl lifts her head, resting it on a pillow. She peeks her eyes open, and Tamar grabs some nightclothes, throwing a pair at her. Reluctantly she sits up, pulling the clothes on. Unfortunately, anyone can barge in at any time - they’re technically always on duty. It’s only happened once and thank the saints it was Tolya. That was the first and probably will be the last time she’s heard him let out a childish scream. They probably traumatized him. And they’ve remembered to lock the door every time since. 

“Put some clothes on.” He yelled. “We’ve got to go,” and slammed the door behind him. 

Hopefully this night would pass without any interruptions. Unfortunately, it never seems to work like that. Less than an hour later, someone’s banging on the door. 

“Stay here.” Tamar mutters, darting over to grab a pistol before unlocking the door. She hears a sigh and mumbled conversation in Shu. Y/n’s Shu still isn’t great, but she catches the words “lead,” and “leaving right away.” in Tolya’s voice. 

“For fucks sake.” She curses from the bed, dragging herself up to start changing back into her clothes. Tamar catches her moving out of the corner of her eye, and winks. After gathering her clothes, she moves to the other side of the room where Tolya can’t see her strip naked. No need to re-traumatize him. Tamar closes the door and leans back against it. She looks over at Y/N who's naked, pulling her underthings back on. She carefully rakes every inch of her body. 

“Don’t you need to get dressed?” 

Tamar groans but pushes herself off the door, heading over to get her clothes on. 

“What’s going on?” Y/n asks. 

“Sturmhond has a lead on the summoner.” Her voice is low enough no one outside the room will be able to hear them. Y/n glances at the window, checking for any signs of someone outside it. Their room is on the third floor, but paranoia has been built into her over the last few years. 

“Really?”

“Yep.” 

“And he needs to leave immediately?” “We’re half a day behind.” 

They’re both fully dressed by now, and strapping their weapons back on. Her legs are still shaky and she stumbles trying to put a knife back in her boot. Tamar catches her, hands gripping her shoulder, and laughs.  “Careful.” 

“It’s your fault.” She grumbles.  Tamar raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”  “I wasn’t” she can’t help but smile, her cheeks flush and she turns her attention back to her pistol, carefully strapping it on her thigh. Tamar reaches behind her and wraps an arm around her lower back, pulling her in so she’s flush against her chest. Y/n’s breath catches, and she looks up at her with wide eyes. She leaves a soft, gentle kiss on her lips before releasing her. 

“I like your blush.” 

“Shut up.” Tamar laughs, and does an extra check around the room, making sure they’ve grabbed all of their belongings. She tugs y/n out the door and back down the stairs. Y/n throws the key on the desk,

“Sorry,” she mutters, before following Tamar out. Tolya’s waiting for them in the street. They don’t speak about their destination anymore, knowing anyone can have ears around the city. They’re still on high alert even though the streets are nearly abandoned at this hour - 4 bells. 

Tolya rushes them to the ship, grunting something about them being slow, before stopping them, just shy of the entrance to the docks. He points at y/n’s neck, “Tamar, please fix that.”

Y/n turns to glare at Tamar, who laughs, but does look a bit chastised. She quickly heals the bruises, and soon they’re back on board. Sturmhond gives them a knowing look before they take off, y/n taking the first shift on the sails as soon as they leave the harbor.  

would it have been worth taking?

A/N: I'm alive! slowly getting back into posting after a rough few months, but I some things backed up including longer fics and crossovers! let me know if anyone would like a part two :)

Tamar Kir Bataar x f!Reader

Summary: Later on, you learned exactly why Tamar was distant, why she drew that boundary that night, and not for the first time - you wanted to kill the bastard prince of Ravka. Your older brother assigned her to bodyguard duty, from the moment you boarded his ship.

Warnings: angst, pining, bodyguard trope

Word Count: ~2.3k

Tamar’s your best friend. Hands down. You’d spent so much time together over the years. She knows exactly what your face looks like when you have a losing hand, and you can tell when she’s bluffing from leagues away. Absinthe? You only drink it because of her. Cards? You only started playing because of her. 

More and more you realized so much of your life had revolved around her, and it made sense. Tamar’s your best friend, but sometimes those boundaries get blurred and the lines crossed. One night, drunk off your ass, you kissed.

She didn’t hesitate. Tamar’s eyes caught hers, and darkened the slightest bit. Y/N leaned in, and Tamar leaned as well. It felt like the world was coming to a stop - everything around them pausing. The clouds didn’t shift, the ship didn’t rock, the fish didn’t swim. Their lips brushed, for a split second, before time started again and Tamar pulled away like someone shocked her. 

She shook her head, and refused to meet Y/N’s eyes, standing up and walking away - without a second glance back. She sat there, her fingers touching her lips, ghosting over where Tamar’s had just been. It took a few seconds to set in.  

Saints, that hurt more than anything else. A complete rejection - not even a backwards glance to spare. You let it go, and never brought it up. Neither did she. But - on late nights, when the book you were reading wasn’t that interesting, your thoughts would catch up with you and you’d relive every moment in detail, wondering where you went wrong - or how you could have misread the signs. No matter what angle you looked at it - you knew for a fact that she leaned in as well, and you held onto that. 

Later on, you learned exactly why Tamar was distant, why she walked away that night, and not for the first time - you wanted to kill the bastard prince of Ravka. Your brother assigned her to bodyguard duty, from the moment you boarded his ship.

“Why do you always follow me around?” She asked Tamar, genuine curiosity on her face. It could’ve come out rude or sharpish, but she kept her tone gentle. 

Tamar laughed. “Because it’s my job.” 

“What do you mean,” her eyes narrowed, “your job?” 

Tamar paused, placing down the dagger she’d been spinning on her finger tip. “I’m your guard.” She said slowly, as if she was speaking to a child. 

Y/N blinked twice. “Right.” She muttered, before standing up. “I’m going to bed.” She walked to the door, focusing on keeping her pace steady. Her hand rested on the doorknob, and she turned her head to look at the woman. The woman who’d held her heart for so many years, without even knowing it. “You’re off duty.” She smirked, and shut the door behind her. Y/N didn’t stop until she got to her rooms, and only then let the tears fall.

-

“What are you going to do about her crush on you?” You heard Zoya say from around the corner, sounding completely exasperated. 

Tamar shushed her. You counted to ten and turned the corner, keeping a bright smile on your face. A princess's smile. Tamar would know the difference, but Zoya would have no clue. “Zoya. I need your help.” You announced, and she surprised flash across her features, before her usual cool mask of disdain took over. 

“With what?” She said sharply.

“I’m picking out an outfit. For a date.” You smiled, and purposefully didn’t look at Tamar. Zoya’s mood changes immediately, and she flashed a shark like grin at Tamar before breezing towards you, linking your arms and dragging you down the hall. 

You might not be Grisha, but you could’ve sworn the heart renders blood pressure rose. 

Once you were a safe distance away, and had ensured no others were nearby, Zoya asked, “Do you really have a date?” 

A mischievous grin crossed your face. “I do.” 

Zoya looked absolutely delighted. “Thank the Saints you’re getting over her. Who is it?” 

"Busy body." You muttered under your breath, but told her anyways.

–

Over the next few months, you went on several dates. Most of the unsuccessful, considering they all knew exactly who they were taking on a date and blubbered trying to impress you. Several only wanted to be close to the crown. So - you resorted to ‘drastic’ measures, and snuck out of the palace, alone. 

–

You were drunk off your ass in some pub, leading a ridiculously bawdy shanty you’d learned during your time at sea. Everybody loved it, and it drew a crowd in. Unfortunately, it also drew in people who knew exactly what to look for. 

So, Tamar tugged you off of a bar, dragging out the front door, although you protested and cursed her the entire way. As soon as you’d cleared the door, Tolya threw you over his shoulder and they began running - damned running - back to the palace. You fought back the urge to throw up down his backside. 

--

“Do you at least feel bad for the panic you caused?” Nikolai asked the next morning, as you nursed a massive hangover. 

Tamar stood in the corner, leaned back against the wall, one knee propped up, and arms crossed. She looked furious. You watched her for a few moments, before turning back to Nikolai. 

“No.” You tilted your chin up, mastering every part of the petulant and spoiled princess. And maybe you were being unnecessarily reckless, but right now - you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. You’d fought in a war - you deserved a bit of leniency and a chance to be free. 

“I expected nothing less.” Nikolai pressed his fingertips against his temples. Sure, he put on the role of disappointed brother well, but you could tell there was a small bit of pride in him. Pride you’d do something stupid. “You might as well live a little while you can.” 

While you can … That statement crashed over you. 

“What do you mean, while I can?” You said through gritted teeth, and his face turned unnecessarily serious. 

“You have to think about your future.” 

You stood up, pushing the chair back behind you. “What. Do. You. Mean?” In reality, you knew exactly what he meant, but you’d make him say it - say it outloud and speak the bullshit into the air. 

“About marriage and alliances. Your duty to your country.” 

“Oh, so I’m becoming a political pawn now?” 

“You were raised for this.” Nikolai gave you a look, as if you’re the one being unreasonable. 

“Haven’t I sacrificed enough?” You spit out, your teeth clenched. 

Nikolai’s eyes widened, almost imperceptibly, before narrowing. “We do what’s necessary. You know this day is coming.” 

Anger rose inside you, filling your chest, creeping up your throat, and flushing your cheeks. Your hand reached for something, anything - a book, a cushion, a rock, something to lob at your brother for saying something absolutely idiotic. Tamar cleared her throat before you could, and your hand shifted back to hover at your side, clenching in a fist. 

“The Princess needs some air.” She announced, before crossing the room and placing a gentle hand between your shoulder blades, ushering you to the door and out of the room before you could do something truly stupid, like assault the King of Ravka. Brother or not, Saints can get away with it, you might not be able to. 

“Nobody wants to marry a bastard princess.” You turned your head to hell over your shoulder. Tamar let out a long suffering sigh, and pushed more insistently at your back. 

“You’d be surprised how much people love a bit of scandal.” Nikolai yelled right back, matching your tone. Tamar let out a groan, shutting the door behind both of you. 

You walked through the halls in silence. Tamar hadn’t removed her hand, and you didn’t have it in you to shake it off. The touch was nice. Comforting even. “Are you going to tell me I’m ridiculous?” You demanded, watching her from the corner of her eyes. Her shoulders pushed back, maybe an inch. Being around her so long, you know every single tell. What each movement means. She’s about to say the ‘right,’ thing. 

“Nikolai has everyone's best interests in mind.” 

“Nikolai has Ravka’s best interests in mind.” That's your brother, always looking at the bigger picture. He doesn’t seem to understand that not everyone wants that life. Not everyone is made for it. He played a role for Ravka, as Sturmhond. “Why can’t I disappear for a few years?” You said absentmindedly, not expecting an answer. 

“Ravka’s been through upheaval. It needs all hands on deck.” It, not hers. You’ve  noticed her and Tolya don’t claim Ravka. If you were them, you wouldn’t either. You know for a fact they’ve only continued to stay here because of Alina, because of her blessing. Thank the saints for that. Without Tamar’s timely interventions, you may have assaulted several courtiers by now. Your loyalty is to your brother. Not the crown. The rest of the walk to the garden was spent in contemplative silence. 

-

Tamar noticed you were a bit out of sorts. Normally you’d say anything on your mind, almost a stream of consciousness. She loved that about you. The word, even in her mind, almost made her wince. The princess needed some air, but so did she. Listening to Nikolai discuss your future, like you’re a prize mare to be sold off. As your official and unofficial bodyguard for the last few years, and more importantly your friend, she didn’t want this for you. You didn’t want this. Ravka’s best interests. Not yours. But she couldn’t do a damned thing about it. If you tried to run … would Nikolai make you track her down? 

“Vlachka for your thoughts?” 

“I’m in the mood for snap-dragon.” Why was that the first thing that came to my mind?

“Saints saints saints”, y/n cursed, sucking her fingers in her mouth. She’d never played snatch drakon before. They didn’t have the necessary ingredients on board often, but Tamar had bought them at the last port just for this purpose. For the holiday spirit, of course. Feast of Saint Nikolai, and it happened to be the bastards favorite game, and her and Tolya’s yearly gift to him. 

It’s the dead of night, with just the stars and moon to brighten the deck. Spiced brandy fills a bowl, raisins and a bit of salt are tossed in. A match strikes, and the blue flames swirl up, giving everyone a ghost or demon-like face. Curses and laughs as fingers grab for the dried fruit. An easy grin fills Tamar’s face as she meets Y/N’s eyes, the mirth and joy in there warms her heart. Saints, she’d buy these every port visit to put a smile on her face … Tamar blinks heavily, reaching for another raisin. What was that? 

Nostalgia, maybe, but winter is still months away. 

“Feeling the holiday spirit already?” You asked half-heartedly.

Tamar didn’t answer, pushing the door open for you instead, her eyes scanning the room - taking in stock any exits or possible threats, even though she’d visited this area at least a dozen times. She noticed you doing the same, and doubted the habit will ever die. Useful, certainly, but it speaks to your shared past. That type of paranoia that comes with those experiences. 

-

Being alone with Tamar. Well, it used to be normal to you, but since coming back to Os Alta you’ve always been surrounded by people, by others. It made it easier to ignore any lingering feelings for her. In fact, they were nearly gone. Months ago, Tamar opening a door for you would have given you a few butterflies, put a smile on your face - no matter how often it happened. You suppose it’s part of growing up, moving on from your first crush. But, part of you clings to it, clings to those last dregs of feeling. Maybe because she’s your main link to your past. A past only your brother truly understands, but Tamar knew you during those times. You wonder if she’s noticed any changes, and what they might be. 

“How are you adjusting to palace life?” You asked instead, hoping to prompt some kind of conversation. You could always go to Tolya for advice, probably would end up doing so, but it’s a bit easier on your brain if there’s not poetry references shoved your way. 

“About as well as you, I suppose.” The same easy grin, but it didn’t reach her eyes, her eyes stayed … sorrowful maybe? 

“So shit.” 

She snorted. “Maybe a bit better than you.” A slightly too long to be natural pause. “Was that your first time sneaking out?” 

“You know the answer to that.” You deadpanned. No, just your first time being caught. A mistake you’ll do your best to remedy. 

“Just take me next time.” 

“That won’t draw any attention at all.” You drawled. Going out with Tamar is like putting a big sign on your back. “We might as well bring Nikolai.” 

“Embarrassed of me, now?” Her tone was teasing, but her shoulders tightened. You might’ve hit a nerve. 

“I heard Tamar’s already embarrassed you quite a bit.” Zoya’s voice cut through the air, and the tension. 

“Does everyone know?” You groaned, turning to face your other friend. One who’d encouraged you to do something reckless. Your jaw dropped at the smug look. “You ratted me out, you little snake. You’re lucky I can’t light you on fire.” 

“Then let's go out tonight, I’ll buy your first drink.” 

If Zoya's offering to go out, especially to your kind of place, you know she's in need of some kind of distraction. The curve of your lips overrode the faked indignation. “I suppose that’s reasonable.” 

“Fantastic.” Zoya breezed towards you, looping her arm through yours, and dragging you through the doors. ‘Sorry,’ you mouthed to Tamar as you were dragged along. 

‘No need,’ She mouthed back, turning to exit through the other door, her steps quick. 

-

As Tamar turns on her heel, walking away as fast as she casually can, she can’t help but think that maybe she shouldn’t have walked away that night. Maybe she did miss her chance. Would it have been worth taking? 

omg i just discovered your blog and i’m in love 🥹 i instantly fell in love with tamar and i wish there were more fics about her out there (and tolya too, perks of being bi)

if you’re still taking requests, could you please write about reader possibly being a lantsov and grisha at the same time? maybe she’s super close with nikolai and tamar is like her sworn protector? idk, something with some angst (like reader getting hurt during an attack or something) but all ends well? i mean she’s the princess of ravka, she better survive 😅

thank you so much, and please, keep writing, i love your fics! 💙

I made a promise

Tamar x f!GrishaLantsovReader

A/N: Sorry this took me so long, I loved writing this thank you! I made this so it should hopefully fit with both the books and the tv show, and I'm still taking requests please send them :)

Warnings: Injury 

Word Count: ~2k

Summary: “She’s a handful.” He warned her.

“How bad could-” 

“Don’t say it.” He interrupted her, and she laughed. “You mean it, if she comes with us, you’ll swear to protect her?” 

“Yes.” Tamar looked a bit exasperated. “I will,”  

-

Y/n was the first Lantsov Grisha in a long time – but she was convinced by her mother to keep her powers a secret – and her heritage. Two bastards? Her mother had been busy. She was two years younger than her brother, and over time they’d bonded over many things, including their suspicious heritage. 

Unfortunately she didn’t gain his silver tongue. Her brashness and attitude got her into trouble at the Little Palace. As soon as she completed her military service, which she’d run away to do, just like her dear brother – they sent her to study in Ketterdam, at her insistence. The well compensated shipping clerk did put up a good effort, but she managed to get the truth out of him. Her brother got an earful when she tracked him down, mostly about how pissed she was he didn’t tell her, or let her go with him, and on and on. The guards that accompanied him were highly amused. Shu twins – she liked them immediately. Especially the girl, Tamar. 

“At least tell me where you’re headed next?” 

He sighed, “Novyi Zem.” 

“Take me with you when you come back?” 

“I’ll think about it.” That was a no. 

She set her best glare on him, “I guess I can’t follow in your footsteps forever. I heard they’re hiring in the barrel…” 

“No.” His voice was sharp. 

“Who are you to tell me what to do? You’re a pirate.” 

“Privateer.” He corrected me. “And that’s different from joining a gang.” 

“Renting out heart-rending services is different than actually joining a gang.” She rolled her eyes. 

“And how do you know they won’t hold you hostage?” 

“I’m good at hiding,” she blew it off. “Everyone thinks I’m in the southern colonies to recover from my ‘illness’.” He nodded, she had a point. “And I wasn’t exactly paraded around like you or Vasily. I’m the obvious bastard. Mother never cared” 

“Careful” he warned, she was treading dangerous ground. He still loved their mother despite everything, and she knew that. But she couldn't care less for them. They’d discarded her at the first possible opportunity, why should she waste energy on them? 

She took a deep breath. “I’m already doing it. There’s no point in trying to stop me now.” 

“Can’t blame me for wanting to protect you.” 

“I was infantry too” was her response. “I can take care of myself.” 

“And if you can’t?” 

“We’ll see just how much father thinks I’m worth.”

-

“She’s very insistent.” Tamar commented later that night. “You might as well let her come.” 

“She’ll be in danger with us.” Nikolai hedged. 

“But there is more danger in Ketterdam.” Tamar countered. “Especially for Grisha.” 

“Will you swear to protect her?” Nikolai said, half-jokingly, rolling his shoulders back and leaning against the railing. They’d set sail in two mornings. 

“I swear it.” Nikolai blinked once. The only sign of his surprise. 

“She’s a handful.” He warned her. 

“How bad could-”

“Don’t say it.” He interrupted her, and she laughed. “You mean it, if she comes with us, you’ll swear to protect her?” 

“Yes.” Tamar looked a bit exasperated. “I will, and I’ll teach her.” 

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” His head shook. Y/n’s already quite good with a blade and pistol, but under Tamar’s tutelage, she’ll absolutely shine. If she doesn’t kill her first.

“I like a little challenge now and then.” 

-

Nikolai ended up eating his words. Tamar and Y/n got along incredibly well, and ended up being absolutely lethal together. He made her repeat her story a hundred times before she came within eye-sight of the ship. A stray heart-render Nikolai found. Her Kerch is fluent, so they passed her off as being from Ketterdam. Also speaks Ravkan and Fjerdan. Y/n seemed to understand the seriousness of it.  

“Stray. Like I’m a scruffy dog.” 

“At least you get to keep your name. It’s common enough.”  He’d reasoned. Not her real name, one she’d already made up for herself. He was, but shouldn’t have been, surprised to find his sister had a few fake persona’s ready. 

“A serious question,” he asked her. “How did you track me down?” 

She looked at him like he was the stupidest human alive, and he was transported back to their childhood. 

“Pirates need to swim, Nikolai!” Y/n had jumped in the lake, her boots discarded on the bank. “See.” She waved her arms above her head, treading the water. 

“I’m going to be a privateer.” He scowled, pushing out the small ‘boat’ they’d built together. Random bits of wood they found around the castle. What looked like the top of Y/n’s wooden nightstand, sawed off, and strung together with some ripped up curtains. 

“Same thing.” She huffed. “Get in.” He slowly waded in, glaring at her the entire time. Saints, the water is freezing. Why did he let her convince him to come swim anyways? Spring is barely here.

“Why do I always have to push the boat?”  

“Things were easy back then, weren’t they?” She murmured, as if she’d seen the memory too. Easy. They didn’t know what the word ‘bastard’ meant, or why Y/n’s ‘powers’ were a secret, even from Vasily. Vasily - who didn’t give a shit about them. Never asked after Y/n once in his letters. Thinking about him would put Nikolai in an unnecessary piss poor mood, so he thought about the future instead. What it might look like out on the seas, but with his sister by his side this time. 

-

“Tamar, would you defend me if Nikolai tried to turn me into a broodmare?” 

Zoya spit her tea out across the table, right onto Y/n’s shirt, who jumped, grabbing a cloth napkin to try and soak it up, glaring at the squaller, who only looked at her incredulously. 

“Did she just say that?” Zoya turned to Genya, who looked at the possible broodmare, sucking in her lips to keep from laughing. 

“It’s a genuine concern.” Y/n protested. 

“Saints, Y/n.” Nikolai spoke from the door. “You’ve asked her that every day for the last week, always when I’m in earshot. Is there something you’d like to ask me yourself? You’d make a pisspoor broodmare. For the record.” 

“No,” Y/n leaned her head back, tilting slightly to meet Tamar’s eyes with an easy grin on her face. “I’d rather ask Tamar.” 

Nikolai let out a long-suffering sigh. One he saved especially for her. Zoya had watched the whole interaction closely. Nikolai looked both annoyed and amused. Tamar went along with it, almost like it was a joke between them. Between them. No matter how much she’d poked and prodded, neither would say anything about a possible romantic relationship. 

“I’m sworn to protect her.” Tamar had emphasized. As far as she knew, sworn protectors didn’t need to stand that close. Or glare daggers at any men or women who looked at her a bit too appreciatively. Nikolai didn’t seem to care about it. 

-

Everything happened incredibly fast. One minute, she was on her horse, laughing at a joke Tamar told, the next she’s in her bed with a pounding headache, and pain radiating through every inch of her. Hushed voices spoke in the background, quieting as soon as she groaned. Her mouth was dry, and even opening her eyes felt like too great of a task.

“Can you hear me?” A strained voice sounded, “Y/n?” She can, she can hear them, but she can’t do anything - can’t move, can’t blink, can’t speak. With great effort, she shifts her hand slightly. By a sharp inhale, she can tell the motion is noticed. Saints, why can’t she just open her eyes? Her consciousness flickers out slowly, and she drifts back to sleep, the hushed, strained voice still haunting her. 

-

Tamar could barely sleep, could hardly think beyond how she failed. She failed y/n, failed her promise to Nikolai, and now she’s lying in her bed - deathly injured, and barely awake. Healers have been there around the clock, doing everything they can to keep the princess alive. 

“If you hadn’t gotten her back when you did …” One of them said to her, shaking her head as she walked off. Tamar could’ve throttled the woman. Was that supposed to make her feel better? If anything it made her feel worse. Knowing just how Y/n was, just how close she still is. 

“Any improvement?” Nikolai asked, hands in his pockets, strolling down the hall. To anyone else, he might’ve looked nonchalant, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the tight lines in his face. 

“Based on how you’re still pacing like a trapped tiger, I’d say no.” The attempted joke fell flat, both of them staring at the other. 

“I don’t blame you.” Nikolai said quietly. 

“That doesn’t matter.” Tamar stared back at the door, at the room she’d been kicked out of an hour ago. I blame myself, went unsaid. He didn’t bother trying to convince her otherwise, knowing it’s futile. 

-

“It’s been a week.” An unfamiliar voice spoke in a hushed tone. 

“I know.” Another said grimly. 

“I didn’t know.” Y/n grumbled, her voice hoarse. A shocked gasp sounded, and if she could she would have rolled her eyes. Saints, people are dramatic. At the moment, opening her eyes felt like the hardest thing she’s ever done, later she might admit she’s a tad dramatic. White ceilings, she squinted against the bright light in the room, hearing the sounds of curtains shutting. “That’s better.” She sighed. 

A warm, calloused hand gripped her gently, “Y/n.” Her voice sounded like a whisper, or maybe a prayer. She turned her head slightly, Tamar. At that moment, she decided that’s her favorite view to wake up to. One she’d like to see for the rest of her days. 

“Hi.” A half laugh half sob emerged from the woman’s throat, a grin fighting its way onto her face. “Don’t look so sad.” She pouted. 

“We need to see her.” An irritating voice grated against her ears. 

“You can see me fine from here.” She snapped. Her throat already feels rough and sore. From a few measly words. 

“Glad to see near death hasn’t dimmed your spirits.” Nikolai.

“So that’s what happened,” she mused. The mattress shifted, and Tamar sat next to her, hand still gripping hers. 

“I have to insist you clear the area.” The same irritating voice sounded, tittering across the room. 

“I have to insist you shut up.” She’s a princess, she can get away with this, right? “And leave.” 

Blood pressure skyrocketed from her left. Good, she’s glad she pissed the woman off. 

“Very well, your highness.” Footsteps padded out of the room, good riddance. 

“She was trying to help.” Tamar chastised, but she could tell she’s pleased. 

“You heal me.” 

She hesitated, but Nikolai snorted. “You heard the princess.” Y/n could sense there was something else Tamar wanted to say. 

“Nikolai leave.” 

“Glad to see you too.” He muttered, but sauntered out of the room. 

“I- I’m sorry.” Tamar said quietly. She looked heartbroken. 

“You have nothing to-”

“No.” She said insistently, “I swore to protect you.” 

“You what?!” 

“I made a promise to protect you, and I failed.” 

“Tamar,” y/n said quietly, “how did I get back to the castle?” 

“I brought you.” 

“What happened to the attackers?” 

“They’re dead.” Her voice hardened. 

“You did protect me. I’d be dead if I was out there alone.” Her hand gripped hers tighter. Y/n managed to raise her arm, with some effort, and kiss the back of her hand. A smile crossed the other woman’s face. “You didn’t fail.” She emphasized, and could tell Tamar didn’t really believe her, but something in her seemed to relax, a bit of tension left her shoulders. Tamar’s thumb ran over the back over her hand, and her heart started pounding and she bit nervously on her bottom lip and decided to bite the bullet, pushing up on her elbows. 

One hand gripped the back of Tamar’s head, pulling her down. A calloused hand gripped her cheek, meeting her halfway.

“it hurts me, just how much i ache for you." With zoya and a female reader pls! Where zoya doesn’t want to confess and the reader was up to something like making her jealous then love making if its alright. Thank you have a nice day 😊😊

ache for you

Zoya x f!Reader

NSFW minors dni

A/N: oh gosh I'm so sorry this took me so long but I LOVED writing this and definitely will be writing more Zoya. thank you so much for sending this :)

Summary: “Then, Saints help you Zoya Nazyalensky. Do something about it. Don’t be a coward.”

“You don’t understand.” Zoya said, anger and frustration filling her stupidly perfect face. 

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: slight exhibitionism, jealousy, smut

“Then explain it to me.” 

“It hurts me. Just how much I ache for you.” You could tell the words were painful, difficult for her to say, but at this point you didn’t care. You were sick of it, sick of waiting around for Zoya to do something. 

“Then, Saints help you Zoya Nazyalensky. Do something about it. Don’t be a coward.” You know all the right words to piss her off, all of the right buttons to push. A challenge, and Zoya’s never backed down from one. 

She took one slow step forward, her eyes meeting yours, the entire time. You could practically see her thinking, see her debating if she would do something or not. 

“I knew it. I’m going to find Lena.” You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the wall. Lena, your ex-lover. Someone Zoya had it out for the second you two started dating, but coincidentally stopped as soon as you’d broken up with her. Zoya froze as you took a few steps towards the door. “She says hello, by the way.” 

-

Lena, in fact, did not say hello. And Zoya knows that perfectly well. Just like she knows Y/n is going to make good on her word to find Lena. How long had they been broken up? She knows they haven’t seen each other since, but also knows that bitch would jump at the chance to be with her. To touch her girl. Her girl? When did that happen? Zoya made her mind up, and slid in front of Y/n before she could reach the door. “You don’t need her.” 

“You’re correct. I don’t need anybody.” She caught the way her bottom lip rolled in between her teeth. Nervous. Cute. 

“But you want me.” She purred, a hand reaching out to push back a stray hair. “You ache for me, just as much as I ache for you.” She took a careful step, invading her space, and let one hand drift down the column of her neck, her thumb brushing the velvety skin. “Don’t you?” 

-

“Don’t you?” 

Saints help you. You took another step forward, so close that if you took a large breath, you’d touch. “Show me..” You waited as her hand paused, thumb pressing gently on your pulse. You know your heart is beating rapidly, you can feel it nearly bursting out of your chest, and she knows too. Her move, you told yourself, wait for her to make the move. 

Her hand slid to the back of your neck, burying itself in your hair, gripping slightly. And Zoya took that final step, yanking you forward and tilting your head to meet her lips. It was angry but somehow soft. Her lips felt just like you’d dreamt they would. Not that you’d ever tell her that. 

Soft, but she moved with such certainty and aggression that you couldn’t help following her lead, your hands lazily drifting over her shoulders, before making slow strokes down her arms. She, on the other hand, gripped your hip tightly with one hand, pressing you as close as she physically could, all while backing you into the wall. 

Your slightly exposed back hit the cold wall, drawing a small gasp out of you. “I’ll have you making more sounds like that before the nights over.” 

“Zoya.” You looked to see if anyone was nearby.

“Let them see.” Her hand cupped your cheek, drawing your attention back to her. This time she leaned in softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. But, you weren’t having that, and pulled her in, fingers digging into her hair, tugging the ribbon, letting it all come loose. You tucked the ribbon in your pocket like a prize, all while keeping your lips on hers. 

-

Y/n bit lightly on Zoya’s bottom lip, and she couldn’t control the small moan that left her. That sound spurred y/n on, because she grew bolder, flipping Zoya so her back pressed against the wall, her hips pinning her in place. 

“So pretty,” the other girl cooed, fingers tracing her cheekbones and jawline. Y/N pressed a soft kiss to the bottom of her neck, and Zoya tilted her head to give more access. Her lips trailed up, sucking lightly on the skin - not enough to feel a bruise. This time Zoya bit on her own lip, keeping any sounds firmly in. 

She’d had enough and grabbed her hand, tugging her down the hall towards her rooms. She didn’t really want to let them see. As soon as the door closes,  she’s unbuttoning y/n’s Kefta, keeping her eyes directly on her as she takes her time. 

Y/n huffs, rolling her eyes, before swatting Zoya’s hands away and taking it off herself, tossing it somewhere across the room. 

-

You reach the first button on Zoya’s Kefta and wait, giving her a chance to back away, or change her mind. Zoya copies you, rolling her eyes dramatically before taking it off and throwing it across the room. She walks you backwards until your knees hit the bed, and you fall backwards, pulling her on top of you. 

All of your clothes are shed quickly after, and your thumbs ghost over her nipples, before your hands trail down her sides, stopping to grip her hips. Zoya’s eyes narrow and she grips the back of your head, crashing your lips together. The kiss leaves you dizzy and breathless, her lips trailing down your neck, before gently sucking on your nipple. 

-

Zoya loves how she keens into her, throwing her head back into moan just from the smallest touch. “So sensitive,” she teases. Y/n’s hands move, quick, pinching Zoya’s nipple between her thumb and forefinger, drawing out a small whimper. 

“Look at you,” Y/n says, “so sensitive.” 

-

You spent the rest of the night drawing out some rarely seen manners from Zoya, just as she kept you begging for more. 

“Are you going to go find Lena now?” She asked, as you curled up against her. You pretended to think about it, rubbing your finger against your bottom lip. “The correct answer is no.” Zoya ground her teeth, and you laughed, leaning up to press a kiss against her lips. She tapped her finger against your lips, “you wretch.” 

Wrote a Mass Effect Andromada short fic.

None of the doors on the Tempest could be slammed shut. Sara hadn’t encountered a manual door since being on Earth, which made sense because why would they waste wood on a door that couldn’t keep out the kett? But she missed the feeling of grabbing the edge of a door and swinging it shut with all her might. Maybe it would have made her feel a little better as she stormed into her room.

Tann was being an ass, asking her for more than she could do. Addison had made a quip about her needing to keep earning her title. Eos was apparently experiencing earthquakes which meant they had to take a break from the ongoing negotiations with the angarans and their efforts on Voeld even though they were so close to rescuing Moshae Sjefa. Sara’s heartrate was uneven, according to Sam, and he wouldn’t leave her alone about it. Jaal was angry. Liam was being moody and wouldn’t talk to her. Scott still hadn’t woken up. Peebee refused to sleep in a proper bed, remaining in the escape pod. Gil and Kallo were fighting, again. Vetra was hiding something. Lexi was worrying over the burn on Sara’s side even though it was fine. And apparently something on the ship was eating their supplies.

There was barely time to breath, let alone sleep or eat. Despite this and the criticisms from the Nexus, Sara thought she was doing alright. Until Cora started talking about the asari ark again. About how they needed a real Pathfinder. Well, maybe that wasn’t how the woman had put it but that was how it sounded every single time she opened her mouth and talked about the asari or Alec.

Sara could feel her throat slowly closing, like a hand around her neck starting to squeeze. She knew that feeling intimately now, after getting a little too up close and personal with some kett. Whenever one got ahold of her, she’d stick them with her omni-blade. She wished she could do that now. Jab forward, attack, make something else gasp for air. Writhe in pain. Feel what she felt for just one fucking minute.

“Pathfinder, I’m detecting higher than normal stress levels.” Sam spoke up, startling Sara enough that it made her gasp and forced air into her lungs.

Right. Sam. The only one who could feel what she felt. Who was actively feeling what she felt. Sara’s eyes stung so she closed them and covered them with her hand, blocking her view of Sam’s node in the corner. As if it did anything to hide from him. “Sam.” Sara’s voice cracked. She sounded rough, scratchy. She cleared her throat, mentally making a note to be careful not to speak near Lexi without taking a drink first. Last thing she needed was the medic thinking she had a cold. “Sam.” There, better. She dropped her hand away to “look” at Sam. “Who did Dad want to be Pathfinder?”

She hadn’t meant to ask that. But there was no hiding from an AI that lived in your head.

Sara expected an immediate response from Sam. She’d asked this question before and he’d answered before. He should have given her the same bullshit immediately. But this time he paused. Hesitated. Like a person unsure of what to say and not wanting to lie. It was evidence that Sam was changing. And Sara couldn’t decide if that made her mad or not.

“Your father certainly seemed to intend to pass the position of Pathfinder to either you or your brother.” Sam finally stated. His voice still held no inflection, that hadn’t changed yet. But Sara was starting to be able to read him. Maybe it was exposure, constantly having to speak to him. Or maybe it was the link. It didn’t matter.

“Sure. But which of us did he think should be Pathfinder?” Sara pressed. Her neck was burning. Pinpricks travelled down her back, sharp little prickles that felt like needles being rapidly jammed into her skin. Her right leg was jumping but she couldn’t move, the rest of her body locked in anticipation of the answer. Sam hesitated again and Sara couldn’t stand it. “Sam!”

“Scott.”

The answer should have felt like a blow. She wanted it to hurt like one, a sharp ache that she could focus on. But she’d known already, hadn’t she? She’d known since the moment she woke up with Sam’s voice in her head. It was never supposed to be her. So instead of a blow she got a spread of heat through her body as she finally accepted the truth. She scoffed. It turned into a laugh.

“Wow.” She breathed out, turning away from the physical representation of Sam on her table. Her legs worked again, letting her slowly walk a few steps away. “So even my own father didn’t think I could do this.” Sara laughed again, looking up at the ceiling of her room as her eyes stung once again. “Great. That’s just great.”

“Your father believed that you had the most experience needed for Pathfinding. But he believed Scott more capable of making hard decisions.” Sam said. And then, probably trying to lessen her pain, he added, “I believe he wanted to spare you some hardship.”

“But he didn’t want to spare Scott?” Sara questioned, spinning on her heel to look at Sam again. He was silent however and she turned away again, started pacing. “No, of course not. Sara’s too emotional but Scott? Scott I never let have emotions so he’s perfect for the job!” Sara laughed again at her poor imitation of her father’s voice. Though she thought she captured his self-righteousness.

Sam had no physical body so there was no body language to tell Sara he was uncomfortable. But she knew. “Sara—.”

“He thought I was weak. That’s what that means. He thought I was weak.” Sara said. Her pacing was getting faster but she couldn’t stop or slow down. There was too much in her now, she felt like she was vibrating. If she didn’t pace she was going to explode. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d done everything to be the next Pathfinder, he never would have given it to me if he hadn’t had to.” Her arms swung out grandly, harshly. Gesturing to nothing. “I was never good enough for him. Scott was never good enough for him. You probably weren’t even enough for him, Sam! No one was ever enough for perfect Alec fucking Ryder!”

The box she kicked across the room was filled with tech bits. Mostly broken and damaged items she tinkered with when she couldn’t sleep, then whatever tools she kept with them. A wrench flew out of the box and hit the floor with a clang before sliding towards the couch. She heard things break as they slammed against each other as the box hit the wall. A few loose bolts had also come out of the box and she watched them hit the floor before her attention was drawn up by the door opening.

Drack took a few steps into her room before stopping, only coming in far enough to let the door shut behind him. He didn’t say anything, didn’t move besides breathing, and his face gave away nothing. Sara had only ever seen him that still when they were sneaking up on kett, pausing to not get caught. Now he was doing the same thing to her. Waiting to see what she would do. If she’d attack.

Sara had probably already been shaking. But now she felt the trembling in her hands. “He never fucking believed in me, Drack.” Sara said. Her voice was shaking too. She hated it. Hated herself. Alec had been right, she was too emotional. “He wanted Scott to be Pathfinder, not me.”

Drack’s expression didn’t change but he titled his head slightly.

Sara tried to keep the tears building in her eyes from falling but the second she blinked they started falling with no hope of her stopping them. She was still burning, still vibrating, but she was locked in place again. She couldn’t pace with Drack looking at her, couldn’t gesture and yell and kick at things. Maybe, maybe, one of the others but not Drack. She didn’t want him to think she was erratic. That she was too emotional. “How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to deal with all of this when I know if he was here he’d be questioning everything I did? Disapproving of every choice I make?” The sob that escaped her throat caught her by surprise but she didn’t try to stop it. She never had been able to reign herself back in when she got this way. “I mean, he never approved of anything we did. Never. Except when we joined the Initiative. So you’d think I wouldn’t care.” That would make sense. If she just didn’t care. “I shouldn’t care.” Alec was an asshole. Had been for so many years. She shouldn’t care. “Why do I still care?”

Drack probably only just understood what she said as her voice gave out around her last words. Nothing more than a squeak came out of her mouth, though her lips still formed the words. Sara let the next sob come without saying anything else. Then the next. Slowly, she curled in on herself. Wrapped her arms around her waist and looked away from the krogan she desperately wanted approval from. She wouldn’t have it now. Not acting like this.

But when Drack finally spoke, it wasn’t to chastise her. “From what I’ve heard, Alec Ryder was a real piece of work.” He said, calm as can be. As if Sara wasn’t breaking apart in front of him. “Didn’t take him for the nurturing type. Didn’t think he was this bad though.” There was disgust in his voice. For a brief moment, Sara thought it was directed at her. But one glance up told her otherwise, Drack was looking at Sam accusingly. She didn’t understand why but at least he wasn’t disgusted with her. Drack turned his attention back to her and came forward, reaching but not touching. “Come on kid, you need to sit down for a bit.” He said and gestured towards the couch.

It took a second for Sara to process the suggestion but she followed it, walking slowly on shaky legs until she could collapse onto the leather. The couch was barely worn in, she hardly ever got to spend time in her room long enough to lounge on it. The most time she’d spent on it was when she had accidentally passed out on it while trying to fill out a report to Tann. Sara curled into the couch, looking away from Drack so she could focus on forcing her breathing back to normal. On calming the sobs shaking her chest.

Drack didn’t sit down, couldn’t on this couch, but he stayed close to her. “You know, I never met your old man. But I don’t think I would have liked him.” He said when her breathing had evened slightly.

Sara shook her head. “You would have.” She managed to say. Drack was smart, he knew how to pick allies. He would have gotten along with Alec if it meant helping his granddaughter and the other krogans.

“Really?” Drack grunted. “Only good thing I know about him is that he helped start the Initiative.”

The noise Sara made was meant to be a laugh but it just sounded a lot like another sob. “You should talk to Cora. She knows more about him than I do.” Sara reached up and wiped at her cheeks but they were so wet that it did nothing. “She knew how he wanted to die. I didn’t even know his favorite color.”

“Bet that stings.”

She loved Drack. She loved his bluntness, his willingness to push even when he probably shouldn’t. Because it gave her the excuse she needed to finally vent. To say things she’d refused to voice before then. She couldn’t be blamed for what she said, how she felt, if Drack had practically invited her to talk about it. “It hurts.” It felt good to say that. To finally admit that Cora was hurting her, whether intentional or not. Sara uncurled slightly, turning back towards Drack. “Everytime she talks about him. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts. And I want to throw up. Just hearing her say his name.” Sara shook her head. “It’s like she’s talking about a completely different person. He was my dad. Mine. But she knew him better. Liked him better.”

Sara spotted an unopened bottle on her coffee table and uncurled fully to grab it. She gripped it tightly in both of her hands, almost cradling it to her chest. She didn’t drink much, which was why when she did she always went over the top. But holding something made her feel better. Made it easier to hide her shaking hands.

“And you know, I really hate hearing her say she misses him. That he should be here.” A hint of disgust creeped into her voice and she felt an immediate rush of guilt. It wasn’t Cora’s fault Alec was a bad father. “I hate when anyone says that.” She corrected, staring at the coffee table now. “I know it’d be better if he was here. That things would be easier. But it hurts. It’s like they’re saying they wish I was dead. That he should have let me die so he could be here instead.” Her grip tightened on the bottle. “Maybe he should have.”

Honestly, she hadn’t meant to say that. But it slipped out. And she couldn’t take it back.

There was a lot of silence around her. Some of it heavier than the rest, coming from Drack. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t lift her head or even move her gaze from the table to anything else. Just waited for the disparaging remarks to come.

“No.”

Sara flinched. Drack sounded angry. Now she couldn’t look at him.

“You think your dad could have done half the shit you do?” Drack questioned.

That didn’t make sense. Had Drack misspoke? “He…He was the Pathfinder, Drack.” She swallowed and let her eyes dart to Drack’s legs then away again. She’d been certain Drack knew about most of her duties but maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t understand that Alec had made the job, that he had been perfect for it. “He knew what to do. In-In any situation, he knew what to do.”

“So he would have been able to handle the angara? Would have understood their whole feelings thing?” Drack pressed.

Sara wanted to immediately say yes but she hesitated. Alec thought she was too emotional. What would he have thought of the angarans? How long would he have been able to hold out until he snapped at them for not approaching things logically enough?

“What about the team?” Drack continued. Sara finally looked up at him, took in the scowl on his face. Not an ounce of his anger seemed directed at her but it was there in the set of his shoulders and the roughness of his voice. “You listen to us, kid. And you don’t try to fix things when you can't. You respect these people. Care about what they’re going through. Would your old man? Think your team would do well with him?”

That was easier to answer. No, the team would not have done well under Alec. Not personally. Professionally, they’d be as efficient as the Tempest. But every last one of them would be suffering, forced to keep their worries and opinions to themselves. Alec wouldn’t have cared about why Liam was moody so long as he got the job done. He would have told Jaal to get over his anger because it was a distraction. He’d threaten Gil and Kallo with replacement if they didn’t stop fighting. He’d make Vetra tell him whatever she was hiding, even though it seemed personal, because he didn’t want any secrets on his ship. Suvi would be patronized for her beliefs. And Peebee? Alec probably wouldn’t have ever let her on board.

The idea of her team being treated like that reignited her anger. It wasn’t as strong as before but it burned away some of the tightness in her chest.

Drack wasn’t done. “And Eos? Would Alec do favors for those people? Put necklaces on cliffs?”

No. No he wouldn’t. If it wasn’t important to the mission, he wouldn’t have done it. “He would have—He wouldn’t have done anything that didn’t pertain to the mission. Even research. If it wasn’t pertinent or promising, he’d leave it to someone else.” Sara admitted.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have been better than her at the job. He was Alec Ryder.

Drack nodded but she could tell by the look in his eye he didn’t trust her. That he knew she was still doubting. “See? And if that isn’t enough for you, know I wouldn’t have worked with him.” The krogan declared.

This time, Sara’s laugh sounded a little more like an actual laugh. Startled and disbelieving but a laugh. “Really?” She doubted. She wasn’t sobbing anymore but the tears were still slowly falling. She was running out of them but for now they kept sliding down her cheeks and dripping off her chin onto her hands. One tear hit the bottle’s cap, making it glimmer.

“Like you said, if he was here you’d be dead. And I’m not working with a man who chose his own life over his kid’s.” Drack said. Sara couldn’t even look for a lie. There was nothing about him that allowed her to doubt him. Drack never would have worked with Alec.

Sara tried to imagine the team without Drack but couldn’t. He was integral to how they functioned. He could work with anyone else on the team, fighting alongside them seamlessly. And even if he didn’t, he was so important to making sure the krogans got a voice. Having him on the team meant Tann had a harder time speaking badly about the krogans and excluding them from future plans. Khash got heard much easier with Drack on the Pathfinder team. Drack needed to be on the team and he wouldn’t have worked with Alec.

“I—.” Sara swallowed. She didn’t know what to say. She wanted to say thank you. She wanted to tell Drack she was sorry for unloading on him. She wanted to admit that she’d been afraid of him rejecting her. She wanted to tell him she wished she could have seen him meet Alec, just so she could revel in the disgust the krogan would have felt for the man. All of it made her feel guilty. It manifested in her body as a curling feeling in her stomach. She wanted to tell Drack she felt guilty. Wanted to tell him that Alec hadn’t been bad at all when they were kids, that she and Scott had actually felt loved back then. She wanted to defend her dad and condemn him too. But instead, all she said was, “Okay.”

Drack reached out and, in a gesture that had to be the gentlest he’d ever been, pet her head. “I’m proud to work with you, kid.” He told her.

If she hadn’t already been crying, Sara would have burst into tears. “Thank you.”

She couldn’t say anything else. Thankfully, it seemed like Drack was satisfied enough to let the conversation die. He pulled his hand away, which made her miss the contact but gave her room to breath. Sara let herself relax back into the couch, allowed herself to appreciate how comfortable it was. She focused on breathing, on evening herself out. Drack stayed by her for a few moments, watching her calmly, before turning away. She expected him to leave but he didn’t. Drack started picking up the box she’d kicked. Sara watched him, eyes dropping, wondering why he was doing it but not having the energy to ask him. She could hear him humming. Felt the bottle in her hands slip to the floor and heard it hit with a dull thunk.

Sara fell asleep, forced into unconsciousness by the exhaustion her breakdown had caused. Drack noticed after he’d put the box and its lost trinkets back in their place. “Hey Sam.” He spoke out to the room. He didn’t like to address the thing but sometimes it was necessary. Didn’t mean he had to look at the little hologram of him in the corner. “Give the order that no one’s to bother Ryder for awhile. Kid needs her sleep.” He told the AI.

Drack grabbed a pillow and all of the blankets off of Sara’s bed. He wanted to put her on the bed but was worried she’d wake up and not go back down. So he carefully lowered her to lay down on the couch, putting the pillow beneath her head before it touched the cushions. Then he threw the blankets over her. He didn’t know how tightly he should put the blankets around her, humans were fragile but the room felt warm enough. So he let the blankets hang loose over her. Finally, he gave her another gentle pat, this time on her shoulder, before exiting her room. He needed a workout. Something to get out the anger he wanted to unleash on Alec Ryder but would never get the chance to.

You're taking requests ;) oh hon hon baguette. What about a scenario where Y/N is being plagued by this single mosquito all day and by the end of school they've had enough, determined to finally end it's reign of terror. They see their opportunity when it finally lands, only she doesn't realize it landed on the face of one Matsukawa of the volleyball team (silly Y/N). After her victory dance, they finally figure out that they just slapped their crush. I love you vivi♡

a/n: ok so i changed the prompt a little and I am so sorry this has been in my requests for forever but I just finished it up. i had a ton of fun writing this silly yet cute fic for Matsukawa and it led to even more thoughts of summer camp haikyuu. this is barely beta read so i apologize for any grammar mistakes. i hope you enjoy!

You loved working for the Summer Camp, though the weather was unbearable. The humidity was horrid, you could never cool off, and not to mention the amount of mosquitos. The camp was on the edge of a huge lake, so there were so many different types of bugs. The kids there were super sweet and being their nurse was a blessing and a curse. There always seemed to be a kid from Ultimate Frisbee coming in, either with a bruise forming on their forehead or scrapes on their arms and legs. The kids always seemed to get really into the game, but maybe it was more their Counselor. He wasn’t the most energetic person but he had an aura that drew in the children. It was cute watching the way he interacted with the kids, he seemed to be in his element with them. He was also kind enough to walk them to your office every time they seemed to get injured. The conversations with him were never long but they were comfortable, and it never felt awkward or forced around him. His personality lured you in.

Today seemed to be the worst out of this year at the camp. The humidity was insane and the mosquitos seemed to be out to get you. Being trapped inside of a small room that had little air flow, you left the door open so you had no escape from them. Hearing footsteps you peeked to see a kid who looked no older than 8 followed by Mattsun. 

“So what happened this time?”

“They got hit in the head with a frisbee. Wasn’t my fault this time, I promise.”

“I see. Come here hun, let's get some ice on that for you.” You paused walking over to the cooler to grab some ice. “How many times do you come into my office with a kid, Issei?” He shrugged, picking a piece of grass off the stain on his khaki shorts.

“Everyday,” he mumbled, leaning to drop the piece of grass into your trash as opposed to just leaving it on the floor. 

“It’s almost like you’re making excuses to see me.” You chuckled, sealing the ziploc bag and handing it to the child. “Keep this on your head, it will help with the swelling hun.” You gave the kid a quick kiss on where he was hit before he put the ice on it. You looked over your shoulder to see his eyes go wide and he started stuttering out a rebuttal. “Oh?” You half grinned, blushing a little yourself. He quickly looked away from you, suddenly becoming very interested in the ice on the small child’s forehead. Issei put his hand on the child’s shoulder and squeezed gently once.

“Let’s get you back out there, champ. See you later!” He waved over his shoulder, the camper leading the way back to the field. You waved back and then proceeded to swat away another bothersome mosquito. You looked at your watch and sighed. Four more hours until you could go home. You rummaged through your desk drawer and pulled out a book that you had brought with you. 

You were two chapters in when you heard a soft knock on the door. Raising an eyebrow, you looked up to see Oikawa leaning on your door frame. Oikawa was the archery counselor for the camp that employed you both. You looked at him expectantly after surveying the room to take note of a child that wasn’t there. 

“Is there something you need, Tooru?” You placed the bookmark gently inside your novel and laid it on your desk. He walked all the way in to sit on the small cot next to you and looked at you, smiling devilishly. “What?” He chuckled and shook his head.

“You don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?”

“He brings a child with any injury, as minor as it may be, just so he can see you during the day,” he leaned forward, elbows on his knees with his chin resting in his hands. 

“He just wants to make sure they’re okay! Head injuries can be very detrimental, Tooru.” You leaned back in your chair and opened your book back up. He patted his knees and sighed before getting up. 

“If you say so…” He sang, slipping out the door. You shook your head and went back to reading. The hottest part of the day was over but still the bugs and heat were relentless. It almost seemed that the lake wasn’t providing any cool air for a good breeze on purpose. You stepped out of your office to get some fresh air before you had to get cleaned up and ready to go home. It was starting to cool down finally and when the breeze hit you couldn’t help but close your eyes and relax. Mattsun had seen you out of the corner of his eyes while grabbing his stuff. He couldn’t help but stare at you drinking in the cool air, but looked away quickly before you could notice.

The next day was even hotter and the mosquitoes seemed to be everywhere and more persistent than usual. There had been one in particular who was following you around and would not go away. Oikawa had stopped by again, smiling to himself.

“What’s got you in such a good mood Tooru?” You were fanning yourself and swatting away that stupid mosquito.

“Has your lover boy dropped in yet today?” He leaned against the wall looking out the door like he was waiting for someone to come in.

“No he hasn’t, but maybe he is playing it safe today and no one get hurt.” You swatted away that mosquito once again, finally getting it to fly a little further away from your face. “Also don’t call him lover boy, he just wants to make sure the kids are ok.”

“Whatever you say.” He lifted himself off the wall he was leaning on and started to head to the door. “I have to get back to my station before the kids get there.”

“Bye Tooru, have fun with the kids.” You waved at him before turning around to get some stuff done.

It had been a while since Tooru had come to ask about Mattsun and he still hadn’t come in. It was weird to not have him come in for a day. He was always in here with a kid who had some sort or bump, cut, or bruise. The mosquito that had been bothering you landed on the desk, thinking you had finally got it and slapped your hand on the desk. The mosquito was able to get away just before you would have crushed it. You sighed, frustrated that it was still bothering you.

“Knock, Knock” Mattsun was standing at the door, without a kid this time. “Sorry for the intrusion”

“Hey, you’re here, thought you weren’t coming in today?” You had stood up from your chair making your way over to him. “Where's the kid? Or is it just you today?”

“Just me. Got hit in the head when a kid threw the frisbee and just wanted to get some ice. Gotta make it quick, the kids are waiting for me. Had to stick them with Iwa for a bit. I didn't trust Makki enough to leave them with him.” Iwaizumi was the Rock climbing counselor and Makki was the arts and crafts counselor. They were some old friends of Mattsuns. He knew Makki would cause more chaos with the kids then he was ready to deal with later.

“Well let me grab you some ice real quick.” You turned to grab some ice and put it in a bag for his head. “Here ya go.” Finally you noticed the mosquito that had landed on Mattsun's cheek. Without thinking you smack him trying to kill it. 

“Ow, what the hell.” He brought his hand up to his cheek covering where you had hit him

“I am so sorry! I didn’t even realize” You were in shock you had just slapped him. “I am so sorry, let me get some more ice. I really am sorry” You had started to freak out, your brain finally processing what you had done. 

“Hey it's ok. Just a bit shocked and confused why you slapped me.” Mattsun watched you get more ice for his cheek.

“There has been this pesky mosquito that has been following me around all day and it landed on your cheek so without thinking I hit it to kill it.” You had brought the bag of ice to him. “Come here.” Mattsun had walked up to where you were and leaned down to let you help him. As you gave him the bag of ice you kissed his cheek. It was a habit you had picked up from working with kids all summer. You were working on autopilot and hadn’t even realized you did it.

“Thanks.” His cheeks had reddened slightly due to the kiss. His response was quiet and you had just barely heard it. It was weird, he was never this soft spoken around you. You had glanced over to see him just staring at the ground with the ice pack held to his cheek. His face was flushed concerning you more.

“Are you feeling ok? Are you sick?” You had put your hand to his forehead to see if he had a fever. He was warm but it definitely was not a fever. You dropped your hand back to your side as you kept your eyes on him.

“Yeah I'm ok. Just a little caught off guard.” You had given him a confused look. Why would he be caught off guard? Did you do something? You had wracked your brain for anything you could have done. That was when it had finally hit you. You had kissed his injury without even thinking, like he was one of the kids you would treat. It was your turn to blush.

“I am so sorry! I was not thinking when I kissed where I hit you. I do it for all the kids and it just became something I do automatically. I gave it no thought.” It was so embarrassing. He was cute and sweet and there you go making him uncomfortable by kissing his cheek. 

“It’s really alright. I think it's cute that you do it. I just wasn’t expecting you to kiss my cheek is all. I mean I come in here everyday with a kid and I have noticed the habit. It’s sweet that you care so much for the kids. Who would I be if I complained that the pretty nurse kissed my cheek.” He was looking right at you now. It made you more nervous. He thought you were pretty?

“Pretty?” It slipped past your lips before you could even think. What was with your brain and body working on autopilot today. 

“Well, yeah. Why do you think I stop here everyday? I come to see and talk to the camp's pretty nurse. I could just send the kids in pairs but I always come with them to see you.” You were just staring at him now. It seems Tooru was right after all. He came to see you. Tooru would never let you hear the end of it though if you told him. You couldn’t respond, just stuck in your spot staring at him. “I have been working up the courage to ask you on a date but I always chicken out before I can.” 

“I would love to go on a date with you.” It was sincere, you really did want to. You had finally worked up the courage to look him in the eyes after saying them. His eyes lit up hearing your response.

“Great! That’s amazing! When are you free?” He was smiling at you with such enthusiasm, it was contagious. Your own smile mirroring his.

“We could go after we finish up for the day. Normally I just go home and watch something.”

“Amazing! I have to get back to the kids but I will meet you here after camp is finished and then we can go out.” he was backing up and heading out the door to get back to his campers.

“Ok! I will see you then!” You yelled out to him as he ran off towards the camp. You really couldn’t believe that a pesky mosquito would lead to you getting a date.

Clara Barton as a ghost

Clara usually hants her last house. Yet if someone is in need of medical attention and no one is helping them, she will definitely try to help. Giving medical attention is kind of hard for Clara as ghost because she can’t hold items. So most of the time she guilds people to alive medical professionals or instruct them on how to give themselves medical attention. Medical emergencies are rare near Clara’s house and she has no interest in appearing to alive people for no reason, so she is not seen often. Most people don’t take a lot of time to learn about historical figures and are skeptics of magic so when Clara is seen people think that their eyes are playing tricks on them or even if they do recognize her as a ghost they don’t know who she is.

made sonadow fanfiction lol

Sonic wakes up in a hospital bed, a chair to his right currently has a blurry black and red figure that Sonic cannot recognize, as his eyes haven’t fully adjusted yet. After a few seconds his eyes fully adjusted to then realize shadow was sitting in the chair, the dark agent’s eyes barely open and arms crossed fur slightly messy and seemingly uncomfortable.

“You look like shit.” he said slightly sarcastic with a chuckle and a smirk

“Says the one who is literally in a hospital bed.” he said sounding irritated, but secretly he was relieved at the cobalt hero’s awakening. Sonic laughed a little at that comment

“How's everything been? Is the rest of the team safe?” Sonic said worried for everyone else, shadow smiles slightly at this knowing Sonic will never change, even when hospitalized

“It's been fine, everyone was worried for you for the months you were out, especially Amy and Tails”

“Heh, of course. Amy’s always a worrier” Sonic remarked. “Did anything else happen?”

“Tails has been inventing new things with varying degrees of stability, Knuckles has been doing what he always does, Amy has been leaving bouquets everyday, and Sticks is also fairly normal.” 

Shadow hadn’t realized until now, but he had been holding Sonic’s hand in his own whilst he was talking, softly blushing a bright emerald green color and looking to the left of Sonic. Sonic hadn’t noticed and was blissfully unaware, staring into Shadow’s ruby-like eyes.

“What?” Sonic says while he smiles softly, brows furrowed slightly

Shadow continues to look away, his mouth slightly open, in a thin line.

lol

do you know where "no beta we die like x" comes from and how it is used?

The term "beta" in this context is short for "beta reader" - a person who reads a fic while it's still in the editing stage and helps the writer get it ready to post. Some betas check grammar. Some check canon compliance. Some are sensitivity readers. There are lots of things that betas can do.

So functionally, saying "no beta" means that the writer didn't get this checked by a second person before they posted it. It's a warning that there might be errors or typos etc. It's mostly used when an author has written something quickly and is posting without doing a lot of (or any) edits first.

As for where it comes from? It all started with a bumper sticker.

This image was an internet meme at one point, and it got meme'd on in the form of "no ___ we ___ like men"

Here on tumblr, one of the versions that got really popular was from now-deleted user @grec1a who created this version:

From there, it migrated to AO3 as the "no beta we die like men" tag, and very often the word men is replaced by the name of a character who dies in canon.

No beta, we did like Gummigoo the moment he met Caine’s line of sight

well... we know what the "no beta we die like men" joke for TADC fanfiction is going to be now...

time off-c.s.

choi san×AFAB reader

genre: smut(basically pwp), slightly fluffy

word count: 2.3k

a/n: i swear i never meant for a san pwp one shot to be my first work on my blog, but the brainrot is far too real, and i need distracting from my upcoming exams. anyway, here it is *chucks fic at you and casually runs away*.

warnings: marking, orgasm denial(kinda), the tiniest bit of a breeding kink, slight degradation but nothing super mean, mentions of oc's parents in a kinky situation (i swear i blacked out while writing this bit, your honour I'm innocent-), mentions of slight exhibitionism but nothing concrete, unprotected sex(the way i would NEVER do this irl, please wrap it up), mentions of that that san(yes it's a warning, we should have all been warned beforehand), san is slightly dominant, the mildest choking you could imagine, past kink negotiation/ exploration(very hot)

maybe it had been a while.

or maybe it was the shaky words san whispered in your ear as you reached your first peak on his fingers.

"you can leave all the marks you want today, baby." he whispered, while you arched off the bed, eyes shut tight.

san started to think you might not have heard him from the way you kept your eyes closed for a few moments longer, heaving as you came down from your high.

no such doubt was left when he saw the look in your eyes- both dazed and so focused at the same time.

san didn't need to look, to tell where your gaze was locked, as you darted with enough force to shove him away slightly, straight for your favourite spot.

the moment your lips connected with the junction between san's neck and shoulder, is when he let out his first proper moan of the night. that moan of course, serving only to egg you on further as you practically made out with his neck.

it was really such a pity. san had the prettiest neck, and let out the most sinful noises when you sucked on it. you had learned this during one of the first few times the two of you had spent the night -and the morning after- together. 

another thing you found out was that san bruised far so easily.

the morning after you had left kisses all over his neck and shoulders, the two of you stared at the multiple purple-pink bruises in horror(and a little bit of arousal).

needless to say, san had gotten into quite a lot of trouble when the bruises remained, almost mockingly obvious, even after 2 days.while the stylists had only lectured san, both you and your boyfriend were sat down in hongjoong and seonghwa's room to endure 45 minutes of pure torture. all while the both of you could hear yunho and wooyoung's obvious giggles from just outside the room.

that had been enough to stop at least one of you each time things got heated. the one time both of you had lost your heads, you had thankfully been interrupted by yunho barging in, preventing the mark from getting too severe. so the both of you had controlled yourselves. for so long.

no more.

with the latest comeback having drawn to a close and the members having the next week and a half off from any official schedules, it was time.

san started whimpering as you moved your lips to the spot right below the angle of his jaw.

that godforsaken jaw. the number of times you had wanted to mark it up, was ridiculous.

as you drew back a little and noticed the first site already darkening.

"oh baby, look at you" you moaned, making san squirm at the teasing tone of your voice. "i've barely even done anything, and yet you've been so deprived that the marks are already showing up?"

san took in a sharp breath."well it's you who needs it the most, isn't it my love? or do you think i don't noticed everytime you wrench yourself away from my neck, whenever you get carried away?" he teased.

"i bet you've been waiting for this day, haven't you? the day where you could mark me up like this, so everyone would know whom I belong to?" san continued, switching places with you so you sat on top of him.

"go ahead baby, you can shout it to the world, that i'm all yours- and always will be"

you melt at the last part-almost wanting to skip to taking him immediately- but quickly get back to the task at hand, while subtly grinding your bare cunt on the bulge that was straining against san's underwear.

god that fucking pair of underwear- you remember how badly you had been affected by that stupid logo peaking out while san performed his ass off to that that of all songs.

you turn your attention to his left shoulder, not wanting to leave it out, kissing and biting a few marks all over it.

san groaned even louder as he felt the tell tale cold trail of your saliva, dripping down his shoulder.

"my messy baby can't stop drooling over her boyfriend, can she" san teased, tightening his grip on your ass to press you even more flush against him.

you hummed in agreement, as you dipped even lower, to his left collarbone. san had the most delicate collarbones. you joked that they were the most babygirl aspect of him- practically begging to be bitten raw.

with san's neck, shoulders, and collarbones covered in your claim, you then turned your attention lower, kissing over his national treasure, as wooyoung would put it. slowly reaching the elastic band with that infernal logo on it, you looked up at your boyfriend of 2 years, pulling it away slightly with your teeth. san hissed once you let go of it- the band hitting him hard enough to sting slightly.

"come on baby, don't you have anything more to say?" you whispered, lips ghosting over his clothed crotch. "you couldn't keep your mouth shut just a few seconds ago, could you?" you question, giving san the most innocent eyes you could muster- while wearing nothing but a smile.

thinking you had gotten the last word, you reach for san's underwear with your hands, only to be met with resistance. 

san clutches your hands in his left hand, while gripping your jaw in his right. "oh baby, it looks like you might have misunderstood how things were going to go today." san and you didn't have the strictest roles in bed, and typically he'd let you set the pace, but it seemed he had something different in mind tonight. "now you can suck me off like you did with all these marks, and if you do a really good job, maybe i'll leave a few of my own on you."

oh he was cruel.

san knew that your only replacement for marking him up, was him marking you. you loved the feeling of walking around with your boyfriend's hickeys all over pretty much any exposed part of your body (and on a few unexposed parts too). nothing quite beat having a casual breakfast with san's members, while pretending to not notice how mingi's eyes would keep catching on your neck, just to quickly look away. the both of you would try to suppress your giggles as hongjoong would stutter through wishing you good morning- the leader not having any valid criticism of the purpling bruises on you neck. yunho had all but choked on his drink the time you had all been invited to a pool party, and he got an eyeful of just where san loved to mark you up when he goes down on you.

san looked you in the eyes with a question in his expression, as if to ask if you were okay with the shift in dynamics. you quickly nodded, pulling his boxers down and off of him, positioning yourself in between his legs. 

while it may be cheesy, you really did love being between san's legs.

you moved closer to his dick, and while not quite touching it, you looked down at it, with your best attempt at confusion. while you were far from innocent, you loved playing the naive girl whenever san took charge.

san, getting impatient, lightly tapped your cheek with it- the sensation immediately making you light headed- and your mouth opened, almost without your control. 

you delicately suckled on his tip while continuing to maintain eye contact with san. he had always liked to joke that no one could look as adorable as you, while giving a blow job.

you were in love.

san's breath grew heavier, as he carded though your hair lightly, almost apologizing for the way he'd be yanking on your scalp soon. "three taps, if you need to stop baby." he whispered, tipping his head back, as you traced your tongue against the underside of his cock.

you slowly started your journey to his pelvic bone, taking more and more of him, while making sure to control your breathing. you remember how you had barely been able to take san halfway, the first time you had tried this.

that wasn't the case anymore.

your boyfriend had moulded you to take him.

and he knew it too, of course. san took a firmer hold of your hair, while returning to look at you with an expression that was almost too tender for the situation.

"there you go, my love. you take me so well, like such a good girl." and you lost any and all thoughts that had been in your head.

as your eyes rolled back, san started rocking into your mouth, slowly inching deeper and deeper into you. your head progressively got lighter and cloudier, partly because of the lack of oxygen, and partly because of the situation, making you slip into a quietude mentally. as much as you loved having sex, san was the first person to introduce you to the pleasure in giving blowjobs.

the grip in your hair tightened to pull you off san, as you whined, looking up at him with a frown. "i want it." you whimper, trying to chase his cock, while he quickly pulled you away again, san's hands trembling slightly.

"you did such a good job baby, and you have absolutely no idea how even just looking at you so wrecked right now, is practically destroying any semblance of self control i thought i possessed." san replied with a small smile, wiping away some drool that had escaped the margin of your mouth.

"well-" you started, climbing onto san before he could stop you. "lose that self control quick, because i think you can already feel how ready i am." you said, as you slowly ground down on his thigh.

san mumbled something you couldn't quite hear, and pulled you onto his bed on all fours. he immediately dove for your cunt, leaving small kitten licks from your clit to your hole. 

you immediately lost all strength in your arms as san gripped your things and started sucking on your inner thigh, a mark that no one would see- at least until the next time the two of you decided to torture one of his members a little. your mouth once again dropped open to let out a sharp breath as your love lightly bit your clit, while pushing apart your legs a little more.

"do you need to cum like this, or can you wait for my cock baby?" san asked, practically smirking into your pussy.

"need you in me, sannie." you whined, sinking down onto the bed.

"well how could I ever say no to anything you ask me for?" san replied, the dominant persona slipping off for the night. "come here baby" he said, as he pulled you slowly onto his cock, groaning as he entered you.

"you were really made for me, weren't you darling? going to have to thank your parents for making the most perfect girl, for this cock." san said right into your ear, feeling the shiver that ran through you, and the tightening he felt  at his words. 

san had already met your parents and had even managed to impress your stern career soldier of a father. the idea of him saying something so filthy to your parents who had practically taken him as their son-in-law was…concerning.

san moved a hand to your lower belly, pushing you against him further. "thats my dirty little baby- such a good girl for the world, but an even better girl, only for me"

"only for you sannie." you echoed, reaching behind you to hold his free hand. you felt the steady climb in your core, signaling what was to come.

"i know baby, now cum for me sweetheart. be my perfect little baby and cum."

his words were all you needed as you tipped over the edge, the knot in your belly snapping as you repeated clenched around san. 

your orgasm was prolonged when you felt san bite your shoulder lightly, as he moved his free hand to press lightly against your throat.

it wasn't even hard enough to make you light headed- san and you had vigorously tested both your limits with choking a while ago, when you had both admitted to wanting to try it out. this wasn't anywhere near the level needed to actually choke you, but the mere feeling of san's hand wrapped around your throat like he owned you, was enough to make you go slightly loopy.

behind you, san lost his control, feeling you practically milk him. as he pushed into you one last time, cumming into your wet heat, he garbled out mess of barely coherent words "-good girl-such a good fucking girl-letting me mark you up inside and out-all mine-only my good girl-"

you whimpered as san slowly pulled out of you, him flipping you onto your back, whispering reassurances against your temple. he grabbed a wet wipe off yunho's side table and gently started wiping you clean, while simultaneously pushing pushing his dripping cum back into you with his pinky.

"i hope you're prepared for your members to get absolutely sick of of us for the next few days" your say, smiling into sans shoulder.

"oh, I'm counting on it. just imagine all the fake grocery store runs and studio visits they're going to have to come up with and leave us all alone in the dorm" san muses, already thinking of more obnoxious behaviour to get his roommates to leave the both of you alone.

"do you think you could fuck me over the kitchen counter again?" you ask.

"THAT'S WHERE OUR FOOD IS MADE, YOU DISGUSTING HEATHENS" you hear wooyoung yell from outside the room. "CAN I WATCH?"

People begged me to write a part two to this fic, so I caved and I did it. Short summary: Angel Dust cries and so Alastor makes Valentino die.

cw// mentioned MCD, CODMW3 spoilers, (implied) self harm/self sabotage, [and op can't tag for shit bc he's in class]

Blue.

Ghost loved the colour blue for so many reasons. The sky, the ocean, the hydrangeas that grew outside his flat building. But he loved it the most because it was the colour of Soap's eyes.

Those high energy and effervescent blue eyes, they were the beginning of the end for Ghost. No matter when he looked, his Sergeant's eyes were always the same: Full of life and joy. The way the Scotsman's nose crinkled with every playful jab, how his lips would curl into a tight smirk.. Ghost loved it all, don't get him wrong. But he loved the way those crow's feet looked on the corners of Soap's eyes. And how they always drew attention back to them.

And because of Soap? He loved the colour blue more than anything.

But after that mission.. the day they lost Soap- no, the day he lost Johnny- because of fucking Makarov, was when the world started to seem darker. Despite his best efforts, Simon couldn't shake 141 off him. No matter how much he hurt them (or himself) they wouldn't leave. Price and Kyle said they understood, that they would be there, but they didn't understand. They COULDN'T understand what it was like. What Simon was going through. 141 lost Soap, but Simon lost his Johnny.

Simon hates the colour blue. Because it reminded him of Johnny.

cw// mentioned MCD, CODMW3 spoilers, (implied) self harm/self sabotage, [and op can't tag for shit bc he's in class]

Blue.

Ghost loved the colour blue for so many reasons. The sky, the ocean, the hydrangeas that grew outside his flat building. But he loved it the most because it was the colour of Soap's eyes.

Those high energy and effervescent blue eyes, they were the beginning of the end for Ghost. No matter when he looked, his Sergeant's eyes were always the same: Full of life and joy. The way the Scotsman's nose crinkled with every playful jab, how his lips would curl into a tight smirk.. Ghost loved it all, don't get him wrong. But he loved the way those crow's feet looked on the corners of Soap's eyes. And how they always drew attention back to them.

And because of Soap? He loved the colour blue more than anything.

But after that mission.. the day they lost Soap- no, the day he lost Johnny- because of fucking Makarov, was when the world started to seem darker. Despite his best efforts, Simon couldn't shake 141 off him. No matter how much he hurt them (or himself) they wouldn't leave. Price and Kyle said they understood, that they would be there, but they didn't understand. They COULDN'T understand what it was like. What Simon was going through. 141 lost Soap, but Simon lost his Johnny.

Simon hates the colour blue. Because it reminded him of Johnny.

I need to spellcheck and then post a CS fic but I am both lazy and absolutely refuse to use a beta

[09:03 AM] valentines special: heartbreaks with friends

"can we petition to remove valentines as a holiday?" my friend slurred her words through tears. "i hate it. it sucks."

i shared a look with my other friend. there was three of us in total in this friend group and one of my friend was going through a major heartbreak.

apparently, her crush had only ever considered her as a second choice and she's been heartbroken ever since.

the thought of it made my blood boil.

how dare that man play her feelings as though she was some instrument he could play with? he'd led her on, making her believe she had a chance only to abruptly say he never liked her in the first place. not only had he broken her heart, he'd also made her feel so humiliated and oh my god, if i see that man-

my other friend cut in, breaking my thoughts. "you only drank soda," they deadpanned. "why on earth are you drunk?"

"i don't know," sobbed my heartbroken friend. "i'm sad - leave me alone!"

we shared another look and sighed.

she was a mess. and that was the kind way of putting it.

ever since we'd heard the news, we'd went to her apartment only to see her eating junk foods and soda in her bed wearing the same pretty dress that she'd planned on wearing for him. it's only been a few minutes since we'd arrived but it felt like it's been hours.

"you poor baby," i sighed and sat next to her. "come here."

like a child, she went to my embrace and wailed, ranting about her horrible love life while my other friend removed the trash in her room.

"what did i do wrong? why can't he just see me? i've been waiting for him to see me for years and i'm so tired but i can't move on-" she cut herself off with a sob. "-i - i'm so pathetic - i hate this but i can't move on! i love him but he doesn't love me and it hurts so much!"

there was little i could do. i've never been much of a romantic having given up on love a long time ago. whatever coping mechanism i can suggest won't work on her.

in the end, i just settled on distracting her.

"you've done nothing wrong. he's the asshole," i said before ushering her to stand up. "now come on - you're wearing such a pretty dress, we can't let it go to waste now can we?"

she followed me outside aimlessly. "where're we going?"

my friend came out of the kitchen with a picnic basket they'd prepared. "we're going out," they said, giving me some items to hold. "if that asshole can't take you out on a date you deserve then we will."

emotional as she was, she broke into tears at our kindness.

"i love you guys!" she wailed as we sighed.

"we know," i said for the two of us, going to hear to fix her appearance. thank goodness she wore waterproof makeup. "we love you too, bubba. let's go celebrate this stupid holiday all alone because fuck men, really."

"not literally though," my other friend cut in teasingly lightening the mood.

she laughed. "thanks guys."

"yeah, yeah." i rolled my eyes jokingly, ushering the two of them out so we can finally go have a picnic. "let's go."

and with watery laughter, we decided to forget the asshole who'd broken our dear friends heart and celebrate the holiday with platonic love because, really, platonic love was so much better.

perhaps in another year, we'd find someone to romantically spend the holiday with. but that's for another year.

for now, we're all together.

broken-hearted, yes, but together nonetheless.

and that's good enough.

Charles Xavier - only one bed (headcanons)

request: "gmorning! with deadpool 3 bringing around the xmen renaissance ive found myself once again totally obsessed w james mcavoy and was wondering if i could req an only one bed charles xavier x reader piece please ! i feel like theres just so much to be done w that trope, the mutual pining, the fluster, the rushed confessions, and ive somehow never seen anymore pair it w charles yet ?? i trust your vision completely, thank you so much and have a lovely day!"

a/n: thank you so much for your request anon ^^ I am also working on a longer piece (actual oneshot, no bulletpoints), so stay tuned for that and in the mean time have this :P hope you like it

💕 fluff

oohhh the temptation

charles trying so hard not to give in and read your mind

he is just so goddamn curious as to know what you're thinking about your current situation

because he can feel you laying next to him all tensed up and it makes him nervous

you're both idiots in love with the other, have been for a while, and both to scared to make the first move

you're convinced he isn't interested in you at all, and are too scared to ruin the friendship to say anything

and he is convinced he would drive away the only friend he made asides from raven and would end up feeling much lonelier than before

he technically is confident enough but at the same time doesn't want to risk anything going wrong or making it awkward between the two of you

when it gets too much for him, he strikes up a conversation which would end up in you two laughing and finally being comfortable in each others space again

when you tell him that you're having a hard time falling asleep at new places, he would offer to tell you about his research, because it helps raven fall asleep

when you both eventually fall asleep, he unconsciously shifts over and holds you close

you stir awake from the movement next to you, already dozing off again when you feel an arm sneak over your stomach and an explosion of butterflies when charles pulls you close

(that man needs someone to cuddle at night and you can't convince me otherwise. he's a cuddler.)

now wide awake and heartbeat going faster by the second, you franticly try to think of what to do next

when you try to scoot away, you're not only met with resistance but with him pulling you back and nuzzling his nose into your neck and hair

you lay there in defeat for a few minutes, enough time for your heartbeat to settle again. then you decide to turn around in his arms

you use the opportunity to look at him his beautiful facial features, all relaxed and peaceful. you'd never allow yourself to stare at him like this, in fear of getting caught

when he started to wake up and blinking a few times, you know you should look away, but you're so captured by him that you can't bring yourself to do so

so you're laying face to face with him, only inches apart, holding your breath

"hey... can't sleep?" he asks with a soft tone and smile

you shake your head the tiniest bit and a stray lock of hair falls into your face

he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear and lets his hand linger

even without using his powers he is almost sure to know what you think in that moment

so he leans in closer and asks "may I?"

you whisper a breathless "please" and before you know it, he presses the softest kiss to your lips

you almost whine when he leans back again

"you look so beautiful, darling" and "forgive me, we should've done this a lot sooner"

you couldn't agree more

sleepy, soft kisses turn into more intense ones turn into makeout session

so much suppressed feelings resurfacing, you can't get enough of each other

when your shirt hitches up and his hand grazes your bare skin, you let out a small noise of surprise and jump a little at the sudden contact

charles moves his hand away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or do something you're not ready for, when you reach down and put his hand back, reassuring that it is okay for you

he doesn't mind at all if you don't want to go any further, he can't believe his luck of you reciprocating his feelings at all in the first place

if you do want to go further, that man will give you the best and softest, most loving time of your life

given that that would be your first time together, you would keep it simple and stick to getting to know each other and each others likes

first and foremost he would concentrate on making you feel good

New FFXIV fic: Shut Up And Let Me Suck Your Dick Already

This started as a short fic about the humor of Alisaie having to browbeat my WoL into letting her suck their dick despite their age difference.

(I am aware the devs claim that everything since 2.0 has happened in less than a year. That is a filthy lie.)

And then somewhere along the way, it morphed into a 4.5K word fic that reflects on the inherent tension between "power imbalances are created by large age gaps in ways that are usually pretty gross " and "saying that 'it is not okay to have large age differences in relationships even when both people are adults' infantalizes people and denies their agency"...

...while still being a fic about wanting to suck dick.

- - -

"Alisaie..." I began, placing a hand on her shoulder. When she didn't shake it off, I drew her into a hug, thinking only to offer comfort.

However, instead of resisting, Alisaie threw her arms around my neck and hauled me into a deep kiss.

It felt like being struck by lightning. I gasped as her lips moved on mine, parted them reflexively when she licked into my mouth. She pulled herself tightly against me and kissed me like I was the only thing keeping her from drowning, and everything fell away but the feeling of her soft lips and our tongues sliding against one another.

I may have moaned in her mouth.

Which may, had it happened, have emboldened her. Or it may have simply been her own initiative that led to her grab my butt.

With a groan, I broke the kiss and held her at arm's length. "We can't do this," I said sternly, even as the sight of her kiss-swollen lips made me want to kiss her more.

Alisaie took this as well as expected, which is to say not well. "Why not?" she demanded, her expression thunderous.

"You're a child." I'd meant to sound implacable. Unyielding. But my voice came out thin and pleading.

"I'm not a child," she shot back heatedly. "For the love of Thaliak, I'll be twenty in a few weeks!"

"That doesn't make it right," I growled. My face was on fire, which I can't imagine helped my argument much. "You're so much younger than me."

Alisaie gave ground - it definitely wasn't a retreat - crossed her arms, and glared at me. "Oh and that makes me too impressionable, does it?" she scoffed. "Do you seriously think you could make me do anything I didn't want to do?"

No. I didn't. But I wasn't going to tell her that.

Alisaie's eyes narrowed. "Tell me you don't want me, and I'll drop it," she said in glacial tones.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. There was no point in denying it - she'd know I was lying. She always knew. "Tesleen is waiting," I finally said helplessly.

Alisaie snorted in satisfaction as she shouldered the bag with our purchases, roundly ignoring my attempt to take the bag myself. "We are not done talking about this," she said, jabbing me in the sternum. Hard.

Read the whole thing on AO3!