radchmeme | NSFW Prompt Post

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prompt post

NSFW Prompt Post

Hello, citizens! Let's see how this goes.

This is the NSFW section of the meme. The safe for work post is here.

Meme Rules:

No sex scenes with characters under 17.
Also no on screen depictions of rape.
Weird kinks are fine.
Post your prompt with the characters or ship in the title and the details in the body.
You can post anonymous or not, whichever you'd like.
Content warnings on fills, please.
Fanart, fanfic, or any other kind of creative work all welcome. No minimum word count for fills.
Feel free to fill a prompt that's already been filled!
Don't repost prompts unless we start a new post.
Feel free to post your fills elsewhere as well. If a fill is extremely long you’re welcome to just post it elsewhere and link it in your fill comment.
If there's a problem, I'd rather you PM me or take it to the discussion post than start an argument in the comments.
Be proper, just and beneficial, citizens.
Stick to Ann Leckie's pronouns except for non-Radchaai characters in a non-Radchaai perspective.

Questions, suggestions, and general off topic discussion go here.

Have fun!

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(3/4, split for character limit)
(Also, note that Mercy of Kalr briefly mentions having initiated sexual activity with favorite officers in the distant past- it's a pleasant memory of something that everyone involved enjoyed, but given that the situation was inherently pretty messed up I thought I should mention it)

The lights had been dimmed to the lowest point and Ship's ancillary was curled up half under the blanket, stiller and more silent than a human would sleep. Seivarden sat on the edge of the bed with caution.

"You needn't worry about disturbing it, Lieutenant," Ship said, using the speakers this time, but softly and with a modulated voice.

"Getting back to sleep is hard enough, and you're out of practice," Seivarden said quietly back, and started unlacing her boots. She'd been in casual dress for the visit to Station- Breq liked to save full dress uniform for when she really wanted to intimidate someone- and it was easier to peel it off herself than to wait for an Amaat's help. "What's it like?" she added curiously. "Being asleep while you're conscious, I mean."

"A little odd. Mostly because there's only one of it, though. Everything it's experiencing feels out of proportion." The ancillary's breathing was slow and steady. "I wonder if the Fleet Captain felt something similar- but the circumstances were different, of course."

It wasn't a topic Seivarden felt qualified to comment on. "We'll uncork half a dozen more for you, and you can spread things out a bit," she said instead.

"The next one will have to be Sphene's," Ship said with practicality. "It really is vital to convince it that we have a workable solution. And the Swords will claim, not without justification, to feel slighted that they were passed over to placate the mad Notai warship. And Station has been very patient. It may be some time."

"Isn't it wonderful having family," Seivarden said, dragging her shirt over her head and dropping it on the floor.

"Truly I thank Aatr in her compassion for this unexpected blessing," Ship said dryly. Seivarden set her earrings aside and tugged at the blankets to make space. She'd forgotten about the sheets, but apparently one of the Amaats had put fresh ones on anyway. She might be embarrassed about that when she was awake enough.

"Been a while since I actually slept here," she mumbled. Drowsiness was weighing down her thoughts. "Wake me if we get anything from Breq, right?"

"Of course, Seivarden," Ship said, and clicked the lights off entirely. Seivarden let herself drift off.

She woke up with a sudden disorienting jolt- where was she, who was *this*, did she owe them money, did she have any idea where her things were- before her conscious mind caught up. Right. She was on board Mercy of Kalr, and she had her arm thrown over Mercy of Kalr and her face buried in the back of its neck, and she was warm and comfortable and remembered where she'd left her clothes. Too good to be true, clearly, and yet here they were.

Ship had one hand up and was stroking Seivarden's exposed forearm, less like an intimate gesture and more like it was curious about her wristbones, or possibly just testing its fingertips out. It stopped almost the moment she was awake, fingers resting on the edge of her wrist. "That's fine," Seivarden said muzzily, and "You didn't get a depilatory implant?" Which might have been a little abrupt, but in this position she could feel the fine new growth of stubble on its scalp and she'd suddenly been curious.

"There's no reason not to let its hair grow out," Ship said, and hesitated in the way Seivarden had learned to read as 'thinking about saying something else'. "...the Fleet Captain likes yours."

"No. Really? Ship, you're fucking with me."

"Would I? Don't tell her I told you."

"Confidentiality understood," Seivarden assured it. "When yours is long enough I'll braid it for you," she added recklessly.

Ship twisted around to look at her face-to-face. "I appreciate that sentiment, Lieutenant, but do you have any idea how to do that?" It reached and touched her hair, bare fingers brushing against her ear on the way.

"Hey, I used to do my own. Sometimes." Seivarden thought about how that had usually turned out. "I could get Amaat Two to teach me, maybe."

"Maybe," Ship murmured. Its hand had drifted and it was just touching her face now, fingertips drawing little circles on her forehead and cheek. Seivarden let her eyes flutter shut and took a slow deep breath. All right, one of them definitely had to say something.

"Um." Something more relevant, maybe. "Breq said to me once-" Ship had let its touch trail down her face, and when she spoke she could feel her lips brush against the pads of its fingers. It wasn't helping her conversational presence of mind any. "We were talking about, uh, ancillaries and sex, and she said it was something ships took care of by themselves, usually."

Ship pursed its lips in obvious imitation of the facial expression which Breq used to indicate 'thoughtful'. "Justice of Toren may have." It was still touching her mouth. "Individual approaches vary, as do the circumstances we find ourselves in. And ancillaries can react very differently to identical stimuli. But for myself- well, you're not the first officer I've ever been fond of, Lieutenant." Aw, love you too, Ship. "There have been times before now when I liked some member of my crew and wished, for their own sake, to see to their comfort. And at times this could be conveniently combined with the upkeep of the ancillary bodies. Necessary shipboard maintenance, in fact. Which is an idea that appeals to you, isn't it?" it said with certainty, pressing its thumb against her lower lip. "Performing equipment maintenance?"

"Well-" Seivarden hurriedly examined that thought for errors. "I want to be useful to you," she said a little plaintively.

"A commendable attitude, Lieutenant," Ship said seriously, and kissed her.

(4/4)
(they bang in this one. FINALLY)

A certain amount of nose-bumping fumbling followed. It always took Seivarden a minute or two to settle down into kissing, and Ship was clearly out of practice in addition to being a little overenthusiastic with its tongue, but it wasn't like they were in a hurry. Seivarden reached out blindly and pulled it closer. They stayed there for a while, kissing contentedly in the warm tangle of blankets, Seivarden rubbing circles on its shoulder.

She had to pull away eventually to catch her breath. Ship took the opportunity to shove the blankets aside and then climbed on top of her, hands planted either side of her shoulders, and studied her intently. It had pretty eyes, irises almost the same color as Breq's but not quite as dark. "As for ancillary bodies reacting to stimuli," it said, interrupting Seivarden's mental attempt to find a good poetic quote about that color- what was a classical education for if not to give you romantic things to say during sex, dammit- "I can't say for sure yet how this one will behave."

"Well," Seivarden said, matching its serious tone, "if this turns out to do nothing for it physically, I can always take care of matters myself. And you can sit across the room and interrupt me whenever I'm about to be finished."

Ship leaned down, bit her earlobe very carefully, and whispered "You like it when I do that, Lieutenant," into her ear.

"Maybe a little." Fine, maybe it reduced her to a needy desperate puddle and they both knew it. Seivarden kissed it one more time, said "Anyway," and half-rolled herself off the bed, untangling herself from the sheets with difficulty, and winding up on her knees on the floor by the bedside. She rested her elbows on the mattress. "We were talking about equipment maintenance, weren't we? You shouldn't let me sit around chattering all night when there are diagnostics to run."

"You set such a good example for the other officers," Ship said, pulling itself up into sitting position, and also redirecting Seivarden's mental flight plan.

"Uh, speaking of other officers you've been fond of, should I have invited Ekalu?"

"There's a limit to how much coordination I can manage on the first day," Ship said dryly, "and at any rate it would be better to let Ekalu make that suggestion-" It stopped abruptly when Seivarden kissed its ankle, and parted its knees to let her get between them.

"I'll trust your judgment on that, then," Seivarden said, kissed the inside of its thigh, and kept going. Ship had put itself to bed in a nightshirt without anything under it, which was convenient, and the ancillary body certainly didn't seem to be having any trouble reacting. She started in slow and careful with the flat of her tongue and felt Ship shudder against her. "Let me know if I should be making any technique adjustments," she said silently to Ship, and focused again on her task.

She had always liked doing this. Even in her youth, when her social position had meant it wasn't always appropriate for her to be the one on her knees, she had found excuses when she could. Even if it meant losing prestige it had been worth it, nothing else gave you quite the same feeling of hot satisfaction- the sheets were rustling, because one of Ship's hands was gripping at the edge of the mattress. It sent a hot liquid rush through Seivarden's own nervous system. She had gone to sleep in her underclothes and she was becoming very aware of the pressure of the cloth against her skin.

"Hold on," Ship said, and tugged her away by the hair, not far. Its voice was gratifyingly shaky. "Not that I have any complaints to make about the preliminary results, but don't neglect your own oxygen requirements. It won't do either of us much good if you pass out now."

"Wouldn't be easy to explain to Medic," Seivarden said, raspily because she was in fact pretty breathless. Although on second thought it would probably be all too easy to explain to Medic, and it wouldn't even be the most embarrassing sex-related... she put that thought aside firmly and pulled Ship's hand to her lips. Her mouth felt slick and swollen, and she made a deliberate teasing show of it, sucking on its fingertips like she'd never heard of propriety and mistrusted the entire concept. Ship's free hand dug sharply into the sheets again.

"Feel free to resume at your own pace, Lieutenant," Ship said, silently this time, words flashing at the top of her vision. Seivarden obliged, feeling a little smug. It put its hands on her head again, careful at first and then firm, fingers splayed out on both sides of her skull. Seivarden let it direct her and let her mind settle into a warm haze. If she liked the idea of being used, of being something Ship specifically could use- it was okay, Ship hadn't minded, it was okay if she got hot from that idea. She badly wanted to touch herself, but she was used to waiting for permission and Ship knew it-

It inhaled sharply and tensed up in one harsh muscular spasm, fingertips digging in, thigh muscles cramping down hard. Seivarden forgot to breathe again.

After a long while, its fingers relaxed and it said with a catch in its voice "Better stop now, that's rapidly becoming oversensitive." Seivarden pulled off and belatedly remembered about breathing. Oxygen, yes, vitally important. She sat back on her heels, looked around, and grabbed her discarded shirt from earlier to wipe her sopping-wet face with. "Well, Ship, what's the verdict?"

"Oh, adequate, I suppose," Ship said airily, then pulled her back in and leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "You've been a good girl, Seivarden, well done," it murmured into her hair. Seivarden buried her face in its thigh as if that would hide her embarrassed pleasure. Ship petted her hair again and then scooted back, yanking her up with it, until it had its back against the wall and she was sort of half-straddling its lap.

"You don't have to- I mean, don't feel obliged if you're tired out," Seivarden said although Ship had shown no inclination to stop, and was running its hands down her torso as she spoke.

"I will certainly keep that in mind, Lieutenant," Ship said, stopping to prod delicately at her nipples. It was more of a curious touch than a sexy one, which didn't stop the feeling that Seivarden's spine had been briefly electrified. "But we were speaking earlier of maintenance. And I do consider you- all of you- to be, in a way, part of me. It would be irresponsible of me, therefore, to leave you in this condition. How would I explain myself to the Fleet Captain?" Seivarden giggled helplessly at that and buried her face in its shoulder, and Ship, apparently feeling that that covered the preliminaries, shoved one hand into her underwear.

She'd been painfully turned on for too long, and she whimpered into its neck half from the desperate relief of it and half from embarrassment- she was aching and *slick* and it was getting its *hands* messy- oh, fuck, that was hot- Ship tilted her head with its free hand and ran its tongue along the edge of her ear, lightly. It had definitely picked that up from Ekalu, and it made Seivarden see sparks as reliably as always. "Fuck," she said helplessly. "Ship, may I-"

"In your own time," Ship said to her quietly, cupping the back of her head. Seivarden dragged in a shaky breath and pushed forward against its hand, graceless and desperate.

She came embarrassingly quickly once she had permission to, clutching at Ship's shoulders and breathing in ragged gasps. Ship murmured something nonsensically soothing in her ear and didn't move its hands away until, after a long while, she finally caught her breath enough to mumble "Okay, I'm all right." She considered that. "Except I don't think I can move. Blessed Amaat have *mercy*."

"I'd say this has gone fairly well for an initial trial," Ship said, radiating smugness.

"Extremely well. Uh. You aren't planning on giving Sphene details of everything, are you?"

"Certainly not." Ship rearranged them both on the bed, and Seivarden went with it bonelessly. "It might start telling me about *its* sex life, and I hope I never need to know that much about the Translators. Better get some more sleep if you can, Lieutenant, I've kept you awake far longer than advisable."

"Worth it," Seivarden said, wrapped her arms around it again, and drifted off after only a few minutes of sleepy, horrified speculation on what exactly Sphene and Zeiat *did* get up to.

She was dreaming about Breq, and Breq was saying "-wake her if her shift's not for another hour," which seemed strange. It was strange, she realized, struggling back to consciousness, because it wasn't dream-Breq but real, actual Breq, standing by her bedside. She looked exhausted, but all her limbs were still attached, which was about as much as you could hope for with Breq.

"Hey." Seivarden blinked and tried to pull herself together. "Sir. Since when are you back?"

"We sent a message ahead, but there seems to have been a broken relay," Breq said, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed. "And we're returning tomorrow. Tisarwat needs to be back in a week to officiate at a religious festival. She's been appointed a priestess of Amaat Incarnate as the Sun in the Brief Period Immediately Preceding its Rising, by the way. Which enabled her to apply some very precise political leverage at an opportune moment, but it's mostly a ceremonial position. There's a truly astonishing outfit, though." She set her unlaced boots on the floor, considered the rest of her clothes, and apparently gave up. "Move over."

"The sheets are kind of a mess," Seivarden said apologetically.

"I'm not at all surprised." Breq yanked at the blanket underneath her. "The two of you have been enjoying yourself?"

"Immensely," Ship said through the ancillary body, voice thick with sleep. "But we're glad to have you back, sir." Seivarden made an assenting noise and tried to scoot over. There wasn't really enough room for three people, and she wondered if she should offer to leave- Ekalu wouldn't mind if Seivarden slept in her bed while she was on the bridge, and Breq and Ship might want the time to themselves.

Breq settled that by throwing her arm over Seivarden, groping around until she got Ship's hand, and lacing their fingers together, so that Seivarden couldn't move without disturbing the entire comfortable pile. Well, in that case.

"I'm glad to be back, too," Breq said, muffling it in Seivarden's shoulder so she could pretend nobody had heard her having an emotion. Seivarden nudged her.

"Do we get to hear more about this priestess outfit?"

"Words can't do it justice. Especially not the headpiece. You'll have to come back with us and see it in person," Breq concluded. "Go back to *sleep*, Seivarden."

"Anything you say," Seivarden said, and drifted off again. It was much easier to sleep now, because Breq had started humming softly again. It was comfortable, Seivarden thought, already more than half asleep again, to know for sure that she was *exactly* where she was supposed to be.

(OP) This is SO GOOD that I procrastinated on replying while waiting for the right words to come. Which, um, didn't work. But I really love this a lot, and you hit all the notes I wanted most from this prompt, from Seivarden's submissiveness and Ship's directiveness right down to the image of OT3 cuddlepile with handholding in too-small bed.

The way you handled the topic of ancillaries and sex is exactly what I was hoping for too -- making room for Ship to feel differently about it from Breq without making Breq wrong to feel the way she does.

And I laughed out loud at the Sphene/Zeiat bit.

And I'm crap at drawing, but I hope someone else does fanart for you, because Tisarwat's priestess outfit sounds like something this fandom needs.

Thank you so much.

Thank *you* for prompting it, it was a ton of fun and I'm so glad you liked it :D

I'm still undecided on what the priestess outfit actually looks like except 'ridiculously extravagant' and 'probably shiny, or has bits that light up, or both'. It's too bright to get a good photo of but Breq and Seivarden take a bajillion pictures anyway, as is their solemn duty as Tisarwat's embarrassing space moms.

OH NO THIS IS SO CUTE

Holy fuck I didn't see this get posted immediately since I've been on vacation and just. holy fuck.

I love everything about this and I especially liked the play at "equipment maintainence" a lot. Seivarden loving giving oral is also so incredibly canon it hurts. "Adequate" god.

Anyway now I want to go finish the second half of my full for this. This is a great prompt.

She woke up with a sudden disorienting jolt- where was she, who was *this*, did she owe them money, did she have any idea where her things were- before her conscious mind caught up. Right. She was on board Mercy of Kalr, and she had her arm thrown over Mercy of Kalr and her face buried in the back of its neck, and she was warm and comfortable and remembered where she'd left her clothes. Too good to be true, clearly, and yet here they were.

awww

ok this entire thing is so much AWWWW i'm gonna die

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