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pesterloglog · 11 months ago

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Vriska Serket

Act 5, page 3849-3859

arachnidsGrip [AG] began trolling tentacleTherapist [TT]

AG: John!!!!!!!!

AG: You're heading into the 8lackout, so I won't 8e a8le to see you until you leave.

AG: 8ut don't worry, I can still sense you are there. 8ecause of awesome powers, remem8er?

AG: Smooth move, ditching your computer like that, 8y the way. That was some incredi8le leadership you showed!

AG: Now I have to contact you through Rose, thus exposing me to the risk of actually having to taaaaaaaalk to her........

AG: Your carelessness has put the Heroes of Light in a very awkward position, John. I hope you're satisfied.

AG: Hahahaha, just kidding. She's o8viously a little too "preoccupied" at the moment to 8e sassing me.

AG: Just 8orrow her computer and talk to me when you get the chance, ok?

AG: I will 8e waiting. ::::)

AG: ........

AG: ........x8

AG: ........x8x8x8x8x8x8x8!!!!!!!!

AG: All of the dots, John. All 16.777216 million of them.

AG: Still dead, huh?

AG: Or are you too 8usy weeping over her corpse to pick up that headset and answer me????????

AG: You can't fool me, John. I know you are not staying dead for long.

AG: And it is not just 8ecause I can clearly see you're alive in the future! ::::P

AG: You see, we are 8oth the 8est there is, and therefore we have special privileges when it comes to mortality.

AG: It's hard to keep a god dead for good. We can only die under very specific circumstances. Didn't I mention?

AG: Nothing too glorious a8out the way you just died, I 8et.

AG: Let me guess, even after all my lessons, you allowed yourself to get sucker sta88ed, right? Pretty lame!

AG: I mean, lucky for you it was lame. I guess 8eing lame pays off when dying a hero's what gets you killed.

AG: If our Hero of 8reath reached god tier, he would have 8een completely indestructi8le! Lol.

AG: Damn, I forgot, I was going to stop ripping on that guy, since he got sta88ed through the chest and died. Haha, whoops.

AG: Anyway, I figure you're pro8a8ly safe from a just death too, since I'm pretty sure you haven't done anything all that despica8le.

AG: Yet. ::::)

AG: I don't know for sure, 8ut I'm 8etting that if I go to fight Jack, it will wipe out all the 8ad things I've done.

AG: I think if I die it'll 8e a hero's death, so it ought to stick.

AG: Pretty good motiv8tion to win the fight though, don't you think?

AG: One way or another, I think this will 8e my last 8ig challenge as a gamer.

AG: As such, I would like to pass my dice on to you.

AG: It is very important to me that they stay in good hands, John. That you continue their legacy, and that of my ancestor.

AG: 82THE8TH

AG: Use the code! I'm sure I can count on you to make something awesome with it.

AG: Still not alive yet? Man.

AG: You 8etter hurry up! She pro8a8ly doesn't have much time left.

AG: Trust me, what she's going through on Derse right now isn't much fun.

AG: Ok, I guess I should mention why I'm trying to contact you now of all times, rather than just skipping ahead.

AG: Remem8er how we talked a8out your 8ackup plan? The one you have devised to defeat Jack, in the off chance I fail?

AG: Well, it's not going to work if Rose is dead, is it?

AG: You have to wake her up! 8reathe some life into her. Do the windy thing, with your lips!!!!!!!!

AG: You know what that means........

AG: Gotta kiss her.

AG: Don't worry, I still can't see you, so there is no reason to 8e 8ashful or anything.

AG: And since we are a couple of professionals here who are focused on winning, we 8oth know it doesn't have any meaning.

AG: It's not l8ke I would 8e jealous even if I could see.

AG: Why wo8ld I 8e?

AG: Or may8e that didn't even cr8ss your mind........ haha.

AG: M8n, why am I ev8n t8lking a8out th8s.

AG: Let's just forget I said that. This isn't really how I wanted this convers8tion to go!

AG: I guess I was assuming you'd 8e talking 8ack 8y now. So now I'm just talking and talking and spinning my wheel device like an idiot.

AG: May8e I don't actually know how I wanted it to go.

AG: I guess I could just shut up and skip ahead on your timeline a little, talk to you when you're alive.

AG: That would make sense.

AG: So

AG: I guess

AG: I will do that.

AG: 8ut then........

AG: May8e if I did, I wouldn't actually say what I wanted to say.

AG: So

AG: I will just say it.

AG: To 8e honest, I am nervous a8out this fight.

AG: 8ut I'm still going through with it, for a lot of reasons.

AG: To save my friends, or at least the ones who are still alive. Oh, and I guess to save reality itself from 8eing totally fucked up. There's that too.

AG: 8ut I think what's motiv8ting me to win this fight the most is........

AG: The possi8ility of getting to meet you when it's all over!

AG: May8e I can finally put all this terri8le stuff 8ehind me.

AG: And I won't have to worry a8out 8eing the 8est anymore, or proving what a ruthless killer I can 8e.

AG: May8e I can try out whatever is supposed to 8e normal for a human. Who knows, it might not 8e as 8oring as it sounds!

AG: May8e

AG: If you're not too freaked out 8y all the 8ad things I've done........

AG: Or the fact that I am an alien

AG: We could go on a d8? ::::O

AG: Don't worry, it could 8e a human d8, whatever that entails.

AG: No weird alien stuff, I promise! And no killing or murders, or even talking a8out killing or murders and such. Just whatever you like to talk a8out and think is cool.

AG: I could even 8e persu8ed to watch more of your a8surd human films.

AG: Do you like any others which feature that rugged human with the long hair and wounded arm?

AG: You know the one. The sweaty guy with the mutil8ed animal and the speech impediment.

AG: Those would 8e tolera8le to watch, I 8et.

AG: Well, think it over.

AG: 8efore I go, I'll get in touch one more time l8er on, when you're alive and may8e have something to say a8out it.

AG: Oh yeah........

AG: Sorry a8out your adult male guardian. I wasn't trying to 8e deceptive 8y not telling you.

AG: I decided not to, 8ecause I didn't want to 8e the one to make you sad a8out it.

AG: Was that selfish of me? I dunno.

AG: You would have found out regardless. Like we all did. There are things we care a8out that we just have to leave 8ehind.

AG: It just sucks for those who aren't in as much a hurry to leave it all 8ehind as me!

AG: W8.

AG: Someone's coming, hang on.

AG: Oh god.

AG: She's wearing her RP outfit! What the hell is she up to?

AG: Man, she's got her dum8 dragon doll and everything. Guess she means 8usiness this time.

AG: Dammit, I've got to go deal with this now.

AG: Anyway, if you actually get around to reading any of this, thanks for listening, John.

AG: If my outrageously gr8 luck has any say in the matter, we will 8e meeting up in no time!

AG: Just please consider what I said.

AG: Ok........

AG: L8r! <33333333

#homestuck #vriska serket #homestuck act 5 #page 3849 #page 3850 #page 3851 #page 3852 #page 3853 #page 3854 #page 3855 #page 3856 #page 3857 #page 3858 #page 3859 #homestuck act 5 act 2

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thepaperpanda · 2 years ago

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The Offspring || Douma x female demon!reader

Summary: Despite all obstacles, you were able to grant Douma with a demon child

Warnings: None, just Douma teasing Akaza and Akaza being so done with Douma also soft Douma

Word count: 3853

Authors: Cass & Rouge

Douma was taken aback by the news. He never fathomed the possibility of impregnating you. Did he feel remorseful about it? Perhaps slightly, but his intrigue and captivation overshadowed any misgivings he may have had.

Frequently, he would sit with you on his lap and caress your burgeoning belly with slender fingers, all while his iridescent eyes fixated on the stirring movements beneath the skin. The sensation of feeling a life growing inside of you was something he had never experienced before, and it left him entranced.

Upon the arrival of your little one, his fascination only amplified.

Six months passed.

He stood there, beholding the small bundle in his arms with reverential awe. The baby’s eyes, like a burst of rainbow hues, met Douma's own gaze, as if recognizing the demon before him.

You stood in the hallway, your gaze fixed on Douma as he played with your child. The door was half-opened, allowing you to watch the scene unfold without disturbing them.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight before you. Douma had a special way with children if he only wanted to, and you were thankful that he was a part of your and your child's life; instinctively, you knew he'd have done whatever it takes to keep the both of you safe and sound.

The little baby was looking at Douma, his chubby hands reaching out towards the man.

Douma's low hum interrupted the quiet atmosphere. The corners of his lips tugged up into a sly smile, his eyes fixed on you as he addressed his son. "You like to watch me, don't you, Y/N?"

You smiled as you slowly entered the room, improving the cardigan over your shoulders. "Hey darling, forgive me, I didn't want to interrupt. I also love to watch you two interacting."

You approached Douma, and looked down at the baby boy he held in his arms. You saw the boy's tiny finger curling around Douma's slender, index finger, his colorful eyes looking up at you with curiosity. He was dressed in a soft blue onesie; it made him look even more adorable.

You couldn't resist the urge to interact with your son, so you lowered your head and rubbed your nose against baby's tummy. This playful gesture earned you a burst of laughter from the child, his little body wriggling with joy. You smiled as you continued to tickle and play with the baby, enjoying his infectious giggles.

Douma tilted his head to the side, his gaze fixed on the tiny bundle in front of him. "It's hard to believe we created something so precious," he mused, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at Douma and smiled warmly at him. The corners of your mouth curled up, and your teeth were visible; your cheeks lifted, and your eyes crinkled with joy.

The baby boy's gaze shifted to Douma, and a smile spread across his chubby face. His eyes sparkled with delight as he puffed out his cheeks, and his little arms reached out towards the man; his fingers wiggled as he tried to grab hold of Douma's turtleneck. The baby's whole body seemed to radiate with happiness as he cooed and giggled.

"Keito is in love with you, there's no doubt," you chuckled, looking up at Douma.

Douma couldn't shake off the strange feeling that lingered within him. He kept replaying the events in his head, trying to convince himself that it had all actually happened. "Is he not the most precious thing you've ever seen?" Douma beamed, cradling the baby in his arms. "I played a vital role in his creation, after all. Without me, he wouldn't be here."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile at the way Douma was cooing over the baby. "And without his mother, he wouldn't be here either," you countered playfully. "Douma, could you please place Keito on the ground for me?" You requested, watching as Douma carefully lowered the boy to the floor.

Meanwhile, you made your way across the room and took a seat on the floor on the other side.

As you watched your son sit confused on the floor, you couldn't help but giggle. Patting your knees, you said loudly, "Keito! Keito, love! Come to mama!"

As he settled into his spot, you couldn't help but notice the way he patted his knees in a playful, almost childlike manner. His voice, too, took on a tone of cheerful exuberance, as he cooed in a singsong voice, "Keito! Come to your daddy."

The baby boy was absolutely confused about where he should go, whether to his mom or to his dad. He looked around with a blunt expression glued to his little face, his little hands reaching out to both of you; he was turning his head as if searching for an answer. His eyes darted from his mom to his dad.

Douma viewed parenting as a competition, a game he was determined to win at all costs. "Come to papa, my little blessing," he cooed, his voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "Come to daddy. Daddy's going to cuddle you just how you like it."

You tried to make little Keito look at you and crawl towards you by calling out to him, "Hey Keito, look at me! Come on, you can do it! Come to mama!" You waved your hands and made silly faces to get his attention, but he seemed more interested in his father crouching on the other side of the room.

Eventually, after a few more attempts, the boy finally looked up and smiled at Douma before trying to crawl on all fours like a little explorer towards his dad.

Douma's iridescent eyes twinkled with sheer delight as he eagerly outstretched his arms, beckoning the little boy towards him.

As the child reached him, Douma let out a boisterous laugh, scooping him up into a warm embrace. "My little blessing!" He exclaimed, his voice brimming with affection. "Of course you would come to me, your beloved father."

You improved your position to sit on your butt while letting out a sigh full of sadness. "Of course! I could have predicted it! I'm getting jealous of you, Douma. Keito always chooses you over me."

Demon's eyes sparkled with joy as he gently bounced the baby boy in his arms. "Of course he does," he said with a chuckle. "I am his father, after all. And we share those beautiful eyes." He leaned in close to the baby's face and whispered, "You're a blessed child, just like I was… and am still."

You smiled a little to yourself, even though your heart ached, as you thought about how your son always seemed to prefer his father over you. It wasn't that he didn't love you or want to spend time with you, but there was something about his father's carefree demeanor that drew him in.

It hurt, but you knew that it wasn't a reflection of your love or your abilities as a mother. Instead, it was just a phase that you had to accept and be patient with. Despite the sadness that lingered in your heart, you knew that your son was lucky to have such a loving and involved father in his life.

As you sat on the wooden floor, lost in thought, you couldn't help but think about how much Douma had changed since you had become pregnant. It was as if the presence of new life growing inside you had awakened something inside him that he had never known existed before. He was always a curious and intelligent man, but now he seemed to be discovering the world and its human emotions in a new and profound way.

In the past, Douma held a disdainful view of children. They were a nuisance, always getting in the way and making noise. He had no desire to interact with them and would have been perfectly content to live a life without their presence.

However, all of that changed when his own blessed son was born. As soon as he held the little one in his arms, he felt a deep sense of attachment and responsibility. Suddenly, the child became his everything, his one and only source of pride and joy. "I never thought I would care for a child," Douma confided to you. "But now that I have one of my own, I can't imagine life without him. He's the most precious thing in the world to me."

After getting up from the floor, you cleared your throat. "Hey, Douma, I needed to tell you something, and I've almost forgotten. Kokushibo announced his visit. As far as I know, he'll bring that other demon you spoke about a lot, Akaza, was it his name?" You rubbed your chin with your sharp nail. "I think that Muzan is sending them to calculate the possible risks, you know what I mean?"

Douma's eyes widened as he perked up, a glint of excitement sparkling in his gaze. "Akaza is coming to visit me? How delightful! I have been dreaming of this for decades!" His voice dripped with anticipation, his mind racing with thoughts of what he could offer his esteemed guests.

Suddenly, the booming voice of Kokushibo interrupted his thoughts, filling the room with its powerful presence. Douma wasted no time and eagerly slid the door open to reveal both demons standing before him.

"Kokushibo-dono, welcome, and Akaza-dono! I cannot express how overjoyed I am that you have decided to visit me!" Douma exclaimed, his tone effervescent with pleasure.

Kokushibo merely strode into the room with a nod of acknowledgment, his stoic demeanor in stark contrast to Douma's bubbling enthusiasm.

You bowed my head respectfully towards Kokushibo, acknowledging his presence and authority. You approached Douma and stood behind him, as if you were trying to hide a little.

Akaza was not at all thrilled about the visit that he was forced to take part in, but he stepped in regardless. As he looked around the room, his eyes eventually fell upon you, and he was taken aback by your beauty. He couldn't help but feel surprised that Douma had managed to find someone as seemingly pretty and cute as you.

Akaza quickly regained his composure, and continued with politeness, albeit with a hint of skepticism in his tone. "Interesting place."

"My followers come here to see me. And, well now, him as well," Douma smiled proudly, showing off his baby to Akaza. "They ask me for all sorts of stuff."

Akaza couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at Douma's boastful attitude, but he kept his cool. "I see."

"That's why we are here. The child," Kokushibo said, pointing at little Keito.

Although you felt the urge to take the boy out of Douma's hands, you resisted the temptation.

Akaza glanced over at the tiny bundle cradled in Douma's arms, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Is that it?"

You nodded a little, looking at the pale demon from behind your partner's shoulder. "This is Keito."

Douma couldn't resist adding his own comment. "Oh yes, Akaza-dono! This is my little Keito. A child as blessed as me," he boasted, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Kokushibo strode over to the trio, his eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in Douma's arms. Without a word, he reached out and plucked the baby from Douma's grasp, holding him up by the back of his collar as if he were a mere kitten.

As Kokushibo carelessly plucked your son from Douma's hands, you felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over you; your vision began to blur, and you swayed unsteadily on your feet. You couldn't believe how casually Kokushibo had handled your precious child, as if he were nothing more than a mere object. Your maternal instincts kicked into overdrive, and you fought to stay upright as a rush of panic coursed through your body. "Careful, you're handling a baby, not some kind of doll."

Akaza took notice of your distress and turned his gaze towards you, his expression betraying a hint of concern. His eyes darted between you and Douma, assessing the situation at hand.

Meanwhile, Kokushibo glanced at you before expertly cradling little Keito in his arms, as if he had done it a thousand times before. It was clear that he was confident in his abilities to handle the child.

Douma noticed Akaza's expression and sought to reassure you. "You see love? No need to worry! It's Kokushibo-dono," he said, flashing you a reassuring smile. "Oh! Right! Akaza-dono, this is my one and only Y/N," he said, tapping your shoulder to get your attention. "Love, this is my best friend, Akaza," he introduced, gesturing towards another demon.

You let out a loud sigh full of relief when Keito was placed safely in Kokushibo's arms. After looking at Akaza, you bowed your head slightly.

As Akaza turned to face Douma, his curiosity piqued. "How did you manage to find someone like her?" He asked, gesturing towards you. "I had no idea that demons were capable of breeding, though."

Kokushibo, cradling a small baby in his arms, looked up at the conversation. "Because they aren't," he chimed in a stoic tone.

Douma, however, remained unfazed. He simply smiled, pulling you close against his side. "You see, my dear Akaza," he began, his voice smooth as silk. "It takes more than just biology to create life. It takes love, devotion, and a strong desire to create something beautiful in this world."

As you heard Kokushibo's words, you could feel your face flush with embarrassment.

As Douma spoke, Akaza scoffed in disbelief. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and his expression made it clear that he was highly skeptical of Douma's claims. "Yeah, surely. I bet you were blessed after devouring so many women."

The infant nestled in Kokushibo's arms looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, studying him intently, as if he were trying to decipher his intentions.

Kokushibo's six piercing eyes scrutinized the child before him, his curiosity piqued as to why it wasn't cowering in fear. His gaze bore into the tiny creature, searching for any sign of weakness or vulnerability.

With a dismissive roll of his eyes, Douma waved a hand at Akaza, as if brushing off his words. "Come on, Akaza, you know how it is. I at least devour women and gain strength from them. And I was simply fortunate enough to come across this cute little thing," he gestured to you, "who was kind enough to give me a child."

Akaza's patience was wearing thin as Douma continued to speak in his usual arrogant and disrespectful manner. With a deep scowl etched on his face, Akaza finally spoke up, his voice low and dangerous. "If you don't stop speaking that way," he warned, "I'll be forced to give you a punch, like the last time."

To Kokushibo's surprise, the baby suddenly broke into a wide, toothless grin, his chubby cheeks dimpling with delight.

Kokushibo's gaze shot up from the infant in his arms at the sound of Douma's voice. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken animosity. "Akaza," Kokushibo growled softly, his voice low and warning. "I did not bring you here so the two of you can fight."

Douma merely rolled his eyes, a look of pure boredom etched onto his features. "I don't want any blood on those floors. It's hard to clean."

You just stood there, facepalming at the entire situation. "Kokushibo-dono, can I have my son back?" You asked.

Kokushibo nodded and carefully handed the boy back to you.

You set your arms in a little cradle, to make sure Keito was safe in them.

Douma couldn't resist the urge to taunt Akaza. With a sly grin, he presented the baby boy to his fellow demon, holding the child up for him to see, almost shoving Keito into Akaza's face. "Look at this, Akaza," Douma chimed, his voice dripping with amusement. "I made this."

"Douma, please," you said firmly, your tone serious. "You need to be on our best behavior here. Remember, you weren't the only one involved in making this child."

Without a word, you simply reached out and gently took the child from his arms, cradling him against your chest.

Akaza let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head in amusement at the entire situation. "Well, well," he said, looking at you with a wry grin, "It seems that your woman has some balls after all, Douma."

Douma gasped, feeling offended. "Well, I at least have a woman."

"Kokushibo-dono, can I have a word with you?" You asked the Upper One, handling the baby back to Douma after a moment.

Douma gladly accepted and hugged the boy.

Kokushibo nodded and followed you to the other room.

"Kokushibo-dono, forgive me for asking, but did Lord Muzan say anything?" You asked after sliding the door closed.

Kokushibo's words hung heavy in the air, his face etched with a deep sense of concern and apprehension. "Lord Muzan wasn't pleased about this development," he said slowly, his voice low and measured. "It was something that should never have happened, yet he's holding onto a glimmer of hope."

As Kokushibo spoke, you listened intently, calmed a little by his words. "I wasn't even aware that it was possible for a female demon to get pregnant," you said, your voice filled with wonder. "So, what does this mean for us? To me and Douma? I just hope Lord Muzan won't kill any of us."

"He said that getting rid of you or Douma would be a waste of his time, but he will need the child's blood to run some tests on it."

"Of course," you whispered, nodding your head. "Thank you for bringing the good news, Kokushibo-dono."

Meanwhile, Akaza observed Douma interacting with the baby.

"What are you looking at?" Douma asked, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You want to hold him?"

Akaza furrowed his brows, looking hesitant for a moment. "I don't know," he said, his voice uncertain, "I'm not really good with babies."

But despite his reservations, Akaza eventually relented, reaching out to take the baby from Douma's arms. As he held the child, his expression softened, and a look of wonder crossed his face. He gently poked the little boy's cheek with his finger. "Squishy."

As Douma observed the scene before him, he couldn't help but emit an amused chuckle. "Awwww! Akaza-dono! You two look so cute together! I never expected to see you looking so soft," he gasped, his voice laced with playful mockery.

"He's so small," Akaza murmured, gazing down at the baby in his arms. "And so fragile. Everything would be fine if not your scent lingering over him," Akaza looked at Douma, his face serious. "You don't deserve any of this, you do understand?"

Douma's grin never faltered as he spoke. "You may say that I don't deserve it, but I have everything I could possibly want. I have a woman I adore and a child that we brought into this world together."

Akaza's expression suddenly turned stern, and he glared at Douma. "Stop grinning like an idiot," he growled, "Or I'll wipe that stupid grin off your face. I have no idea why and how she got involved with you, and it's not my business. She seems like a decent demon, not that strong, yet still intriguing. I can assure you, that if anything will happen to any of them because of your careless behavior, I won't be that nice anymore."

The corners of Douma's lips curled upward as he watched Akaza interact with Keito. The sight was simply too precious to ignore. He couldn't resist the urge to tease his companion. "Aww! Are you going to be a good uncle, Akaza-dono? I always knew you had it in you!" Douma exclaimed, his voice light and playful as he wrapped an arm around Akaza's broad shoulders.

Akaza stood there, his fist clenched at his side, his eyes fixed on Douma's smirking face. He was trying his best to remain calm, to control the overwhelming anger that was bubbling up inside him. But it was difficult. So difficult!

Douma had always been a thorn in his side, with his arrogance, lack of respect for women and his self-assured demeanor. And now, with this baby in the picture, it was even worse.

As much as he wanted to punch Douma's face in, Akaza knew he couldn't. Not now, not when there was a child in the room. So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to compose himself. "Whatever, Douma."

As Douma's fingers wove through the strands of Akaza's disheveled hair, a mischievous grin played across his lips.

Soon, you and Kokushibo returned to the room and after exchanging some more courtesies, you thanked him and Akaza for the visit and assured them you and Douma were at Muzan's disposal at any time.

"Keep the boy safe," Kokushibo had reminded the two of you before leaving for good.

The baby smiled at him widely, blinking shortly after as the little hiccup kicked in.

Suddenly, Douma let out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Look at this, a hiccup."

You walked closer and looked down at the boy, who had a clearly confused grimace glued to his little face. "He's adorable. He's perfect."

"Only because he has a perfect mother," he whispered.

You smiled at Douma briefly, kissing your son's forehead.

"Y/N? I was thinking...” He hummed.

You gave your partner a glance, tilting your head slightly.

"Well, since we made it once, and now we know it's possible..." he trailed off, biting his lip softly. "Maybe our boy would like to have a little sibling?"

"I'm not going through this ever again," you told him with a sweet smile. "Once was enough."

"Oh, Y/N, please!” Douma whined. "Making the baby is fun! So let's make another one."

After giving him another glance, you let out a sigh, massaging your temples. "Douma."

As he leaned into your shoulder, his voice low and sultry, you couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine. "Do you see him?" He murmured, nodding towards the young demon playing in the corner. "He needs a playmate, someone to keep him company while we're away. We could be the perfect family, two beautiful demons and two adorable little ones."

You let out a sigh. "Firstly, how will you explain this to Lord Muzan? Secondly, how can you be sure it'll happen again?"

"Well... We won't know unless we try," he smiled at you sweetly.

"Fine," you told him, taking Keito into your arms. "Fine. Let it be."

"Oh, I love you, my goddess!" He exclaimed, his voice filled with pure adoration.

You smiled at his words, feeling your heart swell with love for both him and your child. "I love you too," you said softly, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on his jawline. "You both are everything to me."

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shadowgast-recs-weekly · 1 month ago

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Whump: A Shadowgast Rec List

This week, we have whump! Check under the cut for 16 fics featuring all sorts of hurt just in time for whumptober, and don't forget to comment and kudos if you like them!

Stronger together by Bob fish & enemytosleep (11000, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek joins tm9 on an adventure … and his inexperience shows.

Reccer says: The outsider’s view of tm9 is fun, and it does a great job of exploring Essek’s struggles at this stage of the campaign. Bonus points for happy Caleb.

The Fullness of Time by Cers (162.788, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Caleb and Essek travel through time after narrowly escaping death in aeor. Their journey has unexpected consequences and Essek ends up trapped between timelines, facing a fate worse than death.

Reccer says: Just when you think everything is fine and all challenges have been overcome, this story hits you with a mean left hook. 10/10 would sob my heart out again

it's strange what desire will make foolish people do by GammaRey (3479, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek gets injured after the Lucien fight and Caleb takes care of him

Reccer says: short and sweet!

proof by contradiction by Chrome (19620, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Beauregard asks for Dairon's help freeing a friend held captive by the Cerberus Assembly. They and Essek work together to escape.

Reccer says: A wonderful look into Dairon's character and perspective. The glimpsed she sees of the Nein's relationships with Essek are so wonderful. I find myself rereading the ending in paticular over and over again. Though shadowgast is not the focus of the fic, what we see of it has definitely inspired how i view their relationship to outsiders.

The Mind and The Malady by SaltCore (38945, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek has to endure the Aeor delve with the Mighty Nein whilst suffering from hanahaki.

Reccer says: A classic amongst Shadowgast fics, honestly. All of it is so good, but I'm particularly fond of the in-universe explanation for Exandrian hanahaki and I still think about Caleb and Essek's conversation at the end of the fic all the time.

some things time can't fix by Chrome (25930, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: None

Daemon AU - Essek is arrested for treason. The Dynasty severs the daemons of prisoners before executing them so they can’t be reborn.

Reccer says: Oh man there is so much emotion packed in. The world we see is fascinating, and it is such a painful ride seeing the development of Essek’s situation.

as if through a prism by wanderinghooves (30812, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb have a terrible time in Aeor.

Reccer says: Incredible character study, very well written. I Very strongly recommend it!

Slow In The Tide by SaltCore (3853, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Drowning

Essek makes a decision during a fight with Uk'atoa's minions. Essek doesn't know how to swim.

Reccer says: I liked it!

bow shock by SaltCore (4615, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Caleb is attacked by a Volstrucker. Essek rescues him.

Reccer says: Essek’s ruthlessness is extremely my jam.

Mourning Sun and Falling Star by LuckyOwlsFoot (21338, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence

A whumptastic time in Aeor, part 2.

Reccer says: These cursed ruins can fit so much hurt/comfort in them.

heliopause by SaltCore (5035, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Essek is attacked by Dynasty assassins. Caleb rescues him.

Reccer says: A lot of evocative details and a hopeful ending.

Crush by flashhwing (3672, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn, Serious Injury, Light Suffocation, Temporary Paralysis

While in Aeor, the wizards get caught in a tunnel collapse. Essek is able to avoid getting trapped, but Caleb isn't so lucky.

Reccer says: The way spacing is utilized is fantastic for building the atmosphere of the fic and showcasing just how long Caleb spends trapped. The Sendings and dynamic between Caleb and Essek are so delicious, just top-tier hurt/comfort with heavy emphasis on the hurt.

all that it took (for the dream to break) by neinofthem (greekphilosophress) (1851, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

essek in the Dungeon, slowly taken apart physically and mentally

Reccer says: Makes me cry every time. Short but packed with emotion.

Hold Me Close, Cut Me Deep by CatgirlTheCrazy (14192, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek stumbles across a dangerous entity in Aeor that takes the form of Caleb. Obviously, terrible things ensue and they are forced to make some difficult decisions.

Reccer says: The pre-relationship pining, inadvertently severely injuring each other and the resulting guilt from that, having to make life or death decisions that deeply affect their relationship, incubi, very nice recovery feels with some hurt/comfort. What more could you ask for?

Reports of my safety have been greatly exaggerated by ghosttopiary (59343, General) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Ludinus kidnaps Essek to use him as bait to trap the Nein. Essek refuses to comply.

Reccer says: lotta hurt lotta comfort

The following fic received two recs!

Tomb of Rust by LuckyOwlsFoot (23682, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Strangulation, Drowning, PTSD and Panic Attacks, Serious Injury

The wizards go to Aeor and things go far worse than they could've possibly imagined.

Reccer 1 says: These cursed ruins can fit so much hurt/comfort in them. Reccer 2 says: There are several scenes from this fic and its sequel that will haunt me until the day I die and I mean that in the most complimentary sense. Everything that could go wrong for the wizards does and in many ways you will not expect going into the fic. Excellent whump, excellent plot twists and developments, and also excellent moments of comfort between Caleb and Essek in the midst of all their suffering!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation.

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring fics that include or feature cultural differences! Big or small, they can both be sweet or lead to confusion. Either way, it makes for wonderful fics

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

#shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #critical role #cr fic recs #fan fiction rec list #critical role fan fiction #cr fic #cr fics #whump

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justmeinadaze · 1 year ago

Text

Take It Out On Me Part 19 (Steddie X Plus Sized Reader)

A/N: Angst has once again entered the chat! Muahaha! No but for real this is angsty with emotions so proceed with caution. After talking with a few people I did forgo Steddie being intimate. Someone I talked to voiced my own concerns perfectly and I think it reflects in this chapter. Their goal is to protect the reader and make her feel good in every possible way. They don't see each other intimately in that way so it would feel out of place here. Thank you for all the people that participated in that poll and felt comfortable telling me their opinions!

This IS more an Eddie than a Steddie in this chapter.

Warnings: Daddy Steve and Sir/Master Eddie X Fem Sub Plus size reader, SMUT, Eddie wakes up the reader for sexy time, FLUFF, they love her, ANGST, lots of talk about Eddie and his trauma (child abuse), there not a lot of in-depth detail but he does talk about his feelings regarding his mother abandoning him and Wayne talks about the domestic violence she endured briefly and his feelings towards protecting his nephew. The boys do get into a fight with each other (verbally), Steve feels like he needs to protect the reader, Eddie gets a little rough with the reader in a sexual manner but Steve intervenes (very brief).

Word Count: 3853

The smell of cigarettes told you which one of them was on top of you, thrusting into you slow and deep as they jostled you from your sleep.

“Mmm…Sir?”, you groaned as you tilted your head towards the slight panting in your ear.

“Fuck, baby. G-go back to sleep. I can take care of you.”

The grip he had on your wrists tightened as he pulled his cock back till just his tip was inside of you before roughly thrusting back in.

“Goddamn. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I—mmm��I couldn’t help myself. You looked so beautiful as you slept. I was just going to kiss and suck on your neck but…” You moaned eagerly as his pace quickened. “…your pussy was so wet, Y/N. It was like your subconscious…knew it needed me.”

“I-I always need you.” Eddie mewled louder at your confession. “I love you.”

“I love you to, princess. Cum with me, baby, please.”

Anytime either of them said please or begged you in anyway it always turned you on more. To be reminded that they need you just as much as you them is a comfort that just sends you over the moon. Releasing his hold on you, you wrap your arms around his neck as you both climax at the same time, suffocating your moans in his shoulder as he grunts into your neck.

Leaning back on the pillow, you snuck a cursory glance at Steve who was still sleeping soundly. Eddie followed your eye line chuckling as he kissed your lips.

“Kid has always been a heavy sleeper, I swear. Do you need anything, sweetheart? Water?”

“No, Sir. I’m ok.” He grins as he rolls onto his back and you scoot closer to his side. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah.”, he exhales as his eyes start to close. “Like I said…I just…you looked so…gorgeous…”

Your own smile grew as you watched him try to form words as he slowly fell into a peaceful sleep.

***

“Daddy, you are going to burn it.”, you giggle as you sit on the counter watching Steve read the instructions on the back of the pasta box he had bought from the store.

“How can I burn it? You just put it in the pan and let it simmer. Uh, what does simmer mean?” He turns towards the living room when he hears his friend snort out a laugh. “Shut up! Do YOU know what simmering is?”

Beaming at him, you tap his shoulder and turn down the heat on the stove. Eddie hurls his body over the back end of the couch when you guys hear a knock on your door that causes Steve to roll his eyes as you laugh.

“Hey Wayne.”

“Hey. Um, can I come in for a bit?”

“Yeah of course.” The metalhead waves his uncle inside the apartment and as soon as his eyes meet yours you know something’s wrong. “Everything alright?”

Steve feels your body tense and promptly goes into protective mode moving closer to your side as he turns to face Wayne. He doesn’t understand why you’re on edge but he knows you are and that’s all he needs to put him in that particular headspace to keep you safe.

“Um, sit down, son.”

Eddie’s demeanor finally caught up with yours as he straightened up his posture. “What’s going on, Wayne?”

“Did you guys know the fire made world news? Apparently, every paper wrote about it as a cautionary tale I guess. Since the world picked up on it, they’ve been following that suit those families filed against the mayor and his office. Uh…your names are in that deposition and they got a hold of it releasing the names of the people that were killed or hurt in the mall.”

“Ok? So, what’s the big deal?”

“Wayne…” All heads turned to you as Eddie’s uncle sighed. Jumping down from the counter, you made your way towards the metalhead with Steve cautiously trailing behind.

“Edward, your mom called me to ask how you were.”

His eyes scanned over his uncle as the man slowly backed up towards the window he usually smoked at and lit up a cigarette.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her that you were hurt but Steven here got you out. I told her you both were doing better and you were happy.” You both exchanged another look before he continued. “She asked if she could talk to you…I told her that was up to you. She’s, um, coming down here in a couple of days. She wants to have dinner with you.”

You swore even though it was metaphorical you could still feel the wind of Eddie’s wall as it came up to enclose around him.

“Yeah, welp, you can tell her I’ll pass on that.��

“Eddie…” His angry eyes swiveled in your direction silently commanding you to be quiet.

“Son, I’m not going to tell you what you should do—”

“Good. Thank you for understanding.”

“BUT I think you should at least think about it. Maybe talk it over with Y/N and Steven here.”

“Wayne, I’ve thought about it. I thought about it since the day she fucking left. I’m not a little kid anymore and this choice doesn’t involve either of them. So, again, thank you but my answer is NO!”

The three of you exchange one final look before Wayne nods his head and Steve walks him out the door.

“Eddie—”

“Y/N, I would advise you to rethink that before you fully commit to opening your mouth.”

“Don’t talk to her like that, Ed. She’s worried.”

The metalhead chuckles sarcastically as he takes a long drag before tossing his cigarette out the window.

“This coming from the guy that talked down to her till senior year.”

“I grew up, Munson, and…I trust her.” Steve flashed you a soft smile before continuing. “Plus, I never did it to hurt her.”

“And I am?”

“You’re trying to shut her down so you can ignore talking about your mom.” Eddie shakes his head as he crosses the living room to leave but Steve quickly cut him off. “No. You forced me to talk about my dad when he flipped out and destroyed my stuff. I’m doing the same with you.”

“Oh. Alright.” The other boy threw off the hoodie he had been wearing and leaned against the back side of the couch as he crossed his arms. You turned off the stove and shuffled towards them but still out of the way. You honestly weren’t sure what exactly you should be doing or what to prepare for. You knew they would never physically hurt you like that but you weren’t sure if they would ever take swings at each other.

“Go ahead, Steven. Play Daddy with me and tell me what I need to do.”

“That’s different, Edward, and I know you know that. As your best friend, I also feel like you’re making a snap decision.”

“Oh, you feel. I see. I didn’t realize she was your mother to. Tell me, how did you feel when she abandoned you with your dickhead dad? Did you keep hoping like I did? Did it crush you even after dad went in that she still didn’t come back for you? How did you deal with that garbage feeling of feeling like trash nobody wanted?”

“I know you’re trying to make a point, Eddie—”

“Y/N— “, he growls in warning.

“But you keep forgetting Steve does know what that feels like. That’s what he’s trying to tell you. He understands.”

Eddie gets that; he really does but you both can see how much he’s struggling with his feelings at the moment.

“Move. Now.”

“I would give anything for my mom to stand up for me when it comes to my father. Growing up I just thought it is what it is but after the fire…Eddie, she didn’t even stay. He wanted to leave because Y/N stood up to him and she followed after him. So, yeah, I’ve felt that garbage feeling but SHE wants me.”, he gestures towards you. “Anytime I feel stupid or I feel like trash I remember we have her.”

Eddie’s glassy eyes met his for a moment. “Steve…move.”

“Let him go, Daddy.” He glances your way as you subtly nod and he does what you say, flinching as his friend slams the door behind him. Wrapping your arms around him, he holds you tightly to him. “You tried, baby. He’s calmer now then he was a few minutes ago. Let him think.”

############

That night you crawled into bed wearing the metalhead’s hoodie as Steve laid beside you gently caressing your face and hair.

“Are you ok, Daddy? Do you need anything?”

“No, baby, I’m alright. I’m just worried about him.”

“Yeah…me to.”

You both fell asleep in each other’s arms until the loud stomping of boots woke you up a little after two in the morning.

“Eddie?”, you called his name as you headed out into the living room, finding him in the kitchen chugging back a glass of water. His eyes widened when he saw you and he playfully threw his hands in the air causing the cup in his hand to shatter to the floor.

“Sweetheart! Na ah, it’s Master, baby. Goddamn, you always look sexy in my clothes.”

Steve skidded into the area assessing the situation and breathing a sigh of relief when it was just his friend. You, however, were extremely concerned as he drunkenly wobbled closer to you.

“Eddie, we were really worried about you.”

His palm reached out to gently touch your face before abruptly pinching your cheeks between his fingers.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

The other boy started to move forward but your eyes never left Eddie’s as you held up your hand to stop him. He needed this. Eddie needed to be in control of something and you were always so willing.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

His lips crash down on to yours and you winced at the strong taste of alcohol that clung to him. Forcefully, he turned you around and held your back as he yanked down your panties, tossing them aside.

“Eddie, you’re not even going to lubricate her or anything?”

“Jesus Christ, Steve, I don’t hear the safe word coming out of her mouth and I assure you she’s probably wet enough. Now either shut the fuck up or go back to bed. She’s mine to. Right, baby?”

“Y-Yes, Sir.”, you whisper.

His ring lace fingers came down hard on your behind making you gasp.

“Louder!”

“Yes, Sir!”

As Eddie began unbuckling belt, Steve stepped in and shoved him away from you. “No! I don’t care what she says. You’re wasted and you have zero control right now, Eddie! I’m not going to let you hurt her. You want to take out your frustrations on someone do it to me!”

“Steve…”

“Y/N. No.”

“Yeah, Y/N. Daddy’s in charge, right, Stevie?”

“I’m one of the people in charge of keeping her safe even if that includes from you.”

“Oh, really, Daddy? She’s not safe from me right now?”, Eddie mocks. “Get off your high horse, Harrington. I’d never hurt her like that.”

“You also said you’d never leave her, Master, yet here we are.”

The metalhead growled as he glared at his friend. “I didn’t leave her. I went for a walk.”

“To a bar?”

“Am I not allowed to drink? I didn’t realize that was a rule we set up.”

“We agreed that we would be more open and talk to each other especially after the incident with Christian. She’s been worried about you all night! We both have.”

“Just because you saved my life, Steve, doesn’t mean you own me. I don’t fucking report to you. I’m not your fucking sub.”

The boy can’t help but laugh as he folds his arms over his chest. “Start acting dominate again and I’ll stop treating you like one.”

“You’re BOTH not acting dominate.” They turn your way to find you glaring at them. “Eddie, I understand that you are in pain and you’re afraid of talking to your mom—”

“I’m not afraid…”

“Don’t interrupt me!” He tilts his head as you sigh. “I’m sorry. Steve’s right. I’ve been worried about you and I know you’re hurting. You were right when you said this was your choice but we love you. Our opinion about this does matter. Just like with what happened when Christian came to town… And you.” You turn to address Steve. “Eddie and I can handle ourselves. He wants to go out and fucking drink he can but then he has to deal with the consequences like us being angry with him.”

“And while I AM both of yours, I know when to use my fucking safe word! You’re supposed to trust me, Steve. Those are Sir and Daddy qualities! Now, I am fucking exhausted so if you two want to keep fighting and picking each other apart then get the fuck out and do it somewhere else!”

With that, you stomp towards the bedroom and slam the door.

“Jesus Christ, I love that woman.”, Eddie sighs as his gaze shifts towards his friend. “Look, I’m, uh, I’m sorry, Steve. You’re right. I should have stayed to talk to you two but I fucking panicked, man. I reverted back to junior year Eddie Munson.”

“No. Junior year Munson was an asshole but the way you were before you left and just then…that was different…angrier.”

“Yeah. Maybe more of a 10-year-old, Eddie. I know you didn’t really know me yet around that time but…I waspretty fucking angry.”, he chuckles as he takes a seat at the table.

Steve heads for the fridge and the metalhead mutters a small thank you as he hands him a water bottle and sits across from him. The bedroom door flies open as you stomp back out, now wearing a pair of Steve’s shorts, and throw your body into the chair next to Eddie’s.

“I can’t sleep without you guys and I don’t like going to bed upset.”, you grumble making them smile. Glancing between them, you realize the energy has shifted to a much calmer one.

“That first night she didn’t come home, my dad was furious. He always accused her of cheating on him so he thought he finally had proof and kept talking about how when she got home she was ‘gonna get it’. After the second day, he went looking for her and came up with nothing. The third day, he went to the police station and they did what they could at the time but they assumed like the rest of the town did… that she ran.”

Your arm looped through his as you tangled your fingers with his own to hold his hand.

“A week after she vanished, Wayne got a letter from her saying that she was safe and that she would come for me when she had things in order. I was so excited that she was okay and packed a bag, trying to be prepared for when she was ready. Six months passed and we still hadn’t heard anything. My dad drank and came at me more since she wasn’t there.”

You clung to him tighter and in response he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“One night, the fucker decided he was going to steal a car and go find her. An officer appeared at our door a few hours later with Wayne. When he went to trial, he didn’t even look my way…but I didn’t care because I thought ‘Hey! Now my mom can come home.’” Eddie chuckled under his breath before he continued. “It’s funny. I think even though I knew she was gone there was still a part of me that waited for her.”

“Did you ever stop?”, Steve asked in a gentle tone.

“Um, yeah…about two years ago when you came back from New York, Y/N. It’s going to sound fucking weird but…you left for two months. I kept thinking ‘Shit. She’s either not coming back or if she does she’s not going to want us anymore.’”

“Eddie…”

“But you did come back AND you wearing my jacket.”

“I wore your jacket the entire time I was there and fell asleep in Steve’s shirt. I wanted you two close to me.”

“Why didn’t she do that for me? We weren’t even technically dating yet, Y/N, but you still called and you came back. You thought about us enough to wear our clothes and bring us gifts. Two assholes, you barely even knew!” You softly smiled when he laughed until his shoulders shook and his laughter shifted to tears. “I was her fucking son.”

You climbed into his lap and hugged his head to your chest as he cried. Eddie’s arms hugged you tightly and Steve came around to do the same with you both as he leaned his head on his friend’s shoulder.

#############

“Hey, Y/N. Come in, come in.”, Wayne ushered with his hand after you knocked on the trailer door. “You know you don’t have to knock, sweetheart. You’re welcome here anytime.”

You grin at his kindness as you sit down on his sofa and wait for him to do the same.

“After some frustrated words and Eddie being Eddie…”, you chuckled and his uncle smiled. “…he asked me to make the choice for him to see his mother or not. He, uh, said he trusted my judgement and if I didn’t think he should go then he wouldn’t.”

“What did you decide?”

“I wanted to talk to you first.” His eyes widen in amusement as he tips his head towards you and smiles. “He’s only told me so much and I never push him. Last night, he told us about when she left and vaguely told us what happened with his dad between that point and when he ended up in jail.” You sigh as you look his way. “What was she like before she left?”

“Hm. She was a good woman or at least I thought so. She adored that kid especially when he was a baby. Lynn would always have him in her arms anywhere she went in the house. Sometimes she would sing to him and he would look up at her with those wide eyes like…” You laughed as Wayne mimicked his infant nephew. “As he got older, it became harder for her to hide my brother’s behavior. She tried her best, always taking Eddie out to the movies if she knew he would come home drunk or bringing him here to stay with me so she could go home and handle him. Honestly, Y/N, when I look back I feel like I should have known. The day before she left she asked me if anything ever happened to her would I look after Eddie instead of Allen. I told her of course, you know. I’d protect that kid with my life.”

“Wayne, why do you think she didn’t come back for him?”

He sighs heavily as he stands and opens his front door, lighting a cigarette as you wait for him to answer.

“I don’t know. I really don’t and quite frankly…and selfishly… I was glad she didn’t after my brother went in. Boy’s life was hell for those six months and Allen never let me in. Every time I tried to check on Eddie, he said he was fine. That they were both fine and for me to butt out.” His sad eyes look you over as you come to stand beside him. “He doesn’t tell me about that time either and like you I don’t push him. Eddie gives me tidbits here and there for me to piece together some narrative but… I tried to give him a better life…do whatever I could to make up for what he went through.”

“You definitely did.” You softly smile in his direction. “I see a lot of you in him. He’s so sweet and the perfect gentleman.”

“Pfft, he better be.”

“More than anything I love how he sees me. Just like Steve, Eddie doesn’t see a weak, pathetic, nerdy fat girl. He sees a strong, confident, beautiful woman with extra curves.” Your grin grows when Wayne laughs. “You never saw a broken, bad little boy did you?”

“No. God no. I saw a good kid who, while he can’t still, has an active imagination and a good heart. I think that’s why him and Steven got along so well. The first time I met him, I half expected, well, Bill.”, he chuckles. “But he was extremely polite and wore his heart on his sleeve. All be it, a little to…”

“Aggressively?”

“You could say that.”, he smiles as he blows out a puff of smoke. “You, young lady, surprised me. The first time he told me about you, I didn’t think you were real.”

You couldn’t help but cackle at his assessment as you looked at him with confusion.

“Sweetheart, I swear to God, he described you like a one of his characters in his game. Like you were a princess locked in a tower or something! But over the last three years, I’ve watched him with you and vise versa. You’ve helped him in more ways than one and…I appreciate that.

You opened your arms wide as you leaned forward to give him a hug.

“Thank you, Wayne. Not just for everything you’ve done for me but them to.”

***

When you came home, you found Eddie in bed with his headphones on as heavy metal blared into his ear while he drummed his fingers absently on his stomach. As you crawled onto the bed, his eyes shot open as he quickly removed the device from his head.

“Hey. Hey. You’re home.”

As he started to sit up, you gently pushed him back down and laid your own head under his chin. His arms promptly wrapped around you as he moved some of your hair to kiss your forehead. You didn’t say a word as your eyes met his, staring at each other in comfortable silence.

“I talked to Wayne today about your mom.” Your palm rose and fell against his chest as he sighed through his nose. “You trust my judgement and I trust his. Besides your dad, he knew her better than anyone. He’s…going to call her and set up a dinner at the trailer.” Placing your hand on his cheek, you caress his skin with your thumb.

“The three of us will be there to; Wayne, Steve, and me. After what he told me, I think you should talk to her but I’ll be damned if I’m leaving you alone with her.”

Eddie’s beautiful lips stretched into a wide smile as he leaned forward to kiss you.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you last night. I promise I would never—”

“I know. I know, baby.”

“I’m glad Steve stopped me though. It’s very rare I push back into that particular headspace.”

“I’m here for you, Sir. No matter what.”

###########

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candidsondemand130 · 1 month ago

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3853 🎥2:21🎥

DM for 🎥📂 access ➡️ t.me/cheekseason

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creative-frequency · 8 months ago

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Raphael x Reader: Act II: The Dinner, pt.2

Summary: Your patron Raphael invites you for a dinner with multiple ulterior motives. Part 2 of 2. Word count: 3853 Notes: Dinner date with Raphael at House of Hope. Some romantic tension finally relieved, making out with the devil.

Previous part

“I’ve been looking forward to spending an evening with you,” Raphael mused just as you pulled your hand back from his. His warmth lingered, burning your fingertips.

He had brought you into a grand foyer. Nervous about the new situation and Raphael’s company – and not really knowing what to reply – you gaped around at the decorative hall. Massive pillars stood in rows at each side and the ceiling was impossibly high. There were no paintings on the walls unlike in the rooms you had previously visited, but devilish sculptures stood amidst the pillars. No doubt sculpted after Raphael’s own visage. Deep red drapes softened the masonry.

Raphael lingered in the middle of the foyer while you paced around a bit, marvelling at the interior.

“Before we dine…”

You turned to look at him.

Raphael snapped his fingers. A sweet wave of nothingness washed and settled through you – silence.

“There. A little privacy from our tentacled friend,” he said with a complacent tone.

The Emperor was going to be extremely upset about you dining with the devil and denying it the chance for eavesdropping. It already had opinions and dire concerns of you lending your ear to Raphael. Even more so about sleeping in the devil’s bed, but that was a conversation you rather wanted to forget.

“Oh. It’s… quiet,” you said, bemused.

The whispering and humming of the Artefact in the back of your mind was gone. Not once had it occurred to you that Raphael might have the power to do such a thing. At the same time, it warranted slight worry about his motives for silencing your astral guide. What had he planned for the night that he didn’t want anyone else to hear?

“This way, my raven.” Raphael motioned towards the hallway and you stepped into pace at his side.

Your mind truly was wondrously silent, thanks to the devil. While it felt weird, a sense of bitter longing filled you. What a luxury it was to remain the only inhabitant of one’s skull. You couldn’t get rid of the tadpole soon enough.

The earlier times you had visited the dining hall of House of Hope, you had not exactly been keen on examining the interior design. Raphael didn’t seem to mind that you were taking in every detail of your surroundings now. Hells, he even seemed pleased at your silent awe as your gaze moved around from the massive painting of the devil himself above the fireplace.

There was a simple brass bell on a chain that was mounted into the wall. The bell was almost invisible in the middle of all the elaborate decoration, but something in it drew your attention.

Raphael followed your gaze and hummed in thought. “Go on, give it a ring,” he urged.

You moved closer to inspect the item.

“What is its purpose?” you asked but didn’t dare to touch it despite his encouragement.

“It is merely a simple dinner bell. Ring it and I will know the table has been set.”

You reached for the short chain and gave it a light tug. The bright jingle sound reverberated in your skull and made your teeth ache momentarily. If that sound couldn’t travel through different planes, nothing could.

“Satisfied?” Raphael spoke while you held your cheek to stop your head from spinning.

“And regretting it,” you asserted with a pointed glance and moved in for the seat he was offering. Raphael let out a low and soft laugh while ensuring you were seated comfortably, then took his own seat opposite.

The hexagonal table was once more laden with dishes that you had never seen or tasted before. It seemed that Raphael currently held a taste for the more exotic Southern flair as many of the foods originated from Calimshan. There was roasted goose and stuffed portobello mushrooms with cherry port wine reduction and foie gras stuffing, aqua-tinted Green Calishite cheese, pork sausages and honey-sauteed vegetables – the same dish you had eaten on your first meeting. He also served you a glass of trike, a sweet and strong wine made from palintrike. Oranges, apples, sunmelons and other fruits were plentiful on the table, cut into bite-sized pieces and served with a sweet paste made of dates.

Raphael took care of most of the conversation on his own while you ate. He told you about the ingredients and spices in the dishes, their preparation methods and the history of the area they originated from. While it was certainly interesting, you couldn’t figure out a natural way to bring up Astarion’s dilemma.

After five courses and three different wines to match, you couldn’t possibly eat anything more. When Raphael paused to sip his drink, you braced and went for the direct route.

“Can I bring my companions here for dinner?” you asked.

Raphael arched a brow at you.

“They’re not my clients,” he replied, unsurprisingly, and leaned forward. “You are. My most precious one, in fact.”

The weight of his words made you shiver and a wave of apprehension coursed down your spine. It had been evident that he really didn’t care for your companions, but when he accentuated it like that… You had to avert your eyes in a flush and focus on the empty plate in front of you.

Raphael placed his glass on the table and fixed a curious gaze to you.

“What is on your mind, little raven?”

You inhaled quickly, remembering why you had brought up the topic in the first place: “So, about Astarion…”

Raphael made a calming gesture and smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’m motivated to help him.”

Your loyalties were already stretched between your companions and your devil patron. To both of them, you essentially owed your life. Raphael could stand to be pressured a bit more. You straightened up on your seat.

“How soon?” you questioned.

“As I’ve previously stated, I’ll think about it and get back to you. Don’t fret,” Raphael replied and, to your astonishment, added: “Until I offer the little vampling a mutually beneficial solution, take care not to tread into any perilous dens on your adventures.”

He was talking in riddles again and looked impossibly complacent.

“I don’t need your approval,” you replied coolly and sipped your wine.

Raphael hummed with mirth and spread his arms theatrically. “Certainly you don’t.” The balmy timbre of his voice sent another wave of shivers through you, but this time the sensation made you feel warm.

You swirled the wine in your glass, examining the deep red colour against the light of the fireplace. Raphael leaned back in his seat, gazing at you contemplatively.

“I was surprised to see you at Last Light today,” you said to change the subject. “A mere coincidence, I take it?”

Hells, you were apparently starting to imitate his way of speech now. That was too much wine.

Raphael chuckled, as though pleased with your question. “There are so many people ripe for temptation,” he replied. A non-answer.

Your brows furrowed as you remembered Mol. Had she already made a deal with the devil? You had half a mind to ask Raphael, but he probably wouldn’t provide an answer other than citing whatever patron-client confidentiality rules devils lived by. You sipped from the glass again, flushing down the thought.

“Does it ever bother you to make a living out of mortals’ suffering?” you questioned and watched Raphael’s reaction over the rim of your glass. He snapped his fingers and the glass filled up right in front of your eyes.

“Life is not a fairy tale, my dear,” he replied in a low tone, posture relaxed and not at all bothered by your questioning.

You paused to huff in thought before answering: “Yet mine already has the main antagonist on stage.”

“Oh?” Raphael raised a brow. “I didn’t realise I was the villain in your narrative,” he said, clearly amused. If the line was meant to taunt you, you held back any further retorts and sipped the wine.

Raphael didn’t let the silence sit for long, eager as he was to continue painting the analogy. He leaned forward over the table. “And what does that make you, little raven? The hero? The sage? The victim?”

You leaned back on the chair. “Isn’t it a bit too late to choose a role?” you mused. “I am clearly the underdog.”

Raphael laughed. “Everybody loves an underdog, don’t they?”

You hated the blush that crept over your cheeks. “I should hope so,” you murmured nonetheless.

Raphael’s eyes narrowed at the sight as a self satisfied smirk crept across his lips.

“The journey has changed you already,” he noted.

Despite having a whole table between you, the moment felt as intimate as him buttoning up the borrowed shirt on you that morning in his boudoir. Heady and tender feelings coiled inside you, and it didn’t exactly help cooling down your flushed skin.

“How so?” you asked.

Raphael brushed any doubts aside with a burgeon motion of his hands. “You’re no longer the tender bud I encountered at the site of calamity. You’ve grown, little raven. Flourished.”

“Right…” You didn’t really know how to react when he was suddenly showering you with compliments. “I hope it hasn’t been a complete waste of time for you to watch me grow.”

“At least I can’t say I’m not entertained,” Raphael said with a warm chuckle.

“Enjoying the show, then? I’m glad.” It was the wine talking, but damn if flirting with him didn’t make you exhilarated and hot all over.

“Very much so, my dear.”

You placed your elbows on the table and locked your fingers under your chin, never breaking eye contact with the devil. Raphael’s eyes glinted at the sliver of gold on your finger. His lips curved upwards. He too leaned over the dinner table, fingers intertwined, and immobilised you with a heated stare. The honey-tinted brown eyes had gained molten swirls. Your heart started drumming faster.

“How your features and string of tragic misfortune have entranced me,” Raphael said, surely in jest, but the voice. It was a lover’s voice, sensual and suggestive. A sharp pulse of desire shot through you. His attention was intoxicating. You wanted more. A flutter sprang to life in your chest.

You blinked and focused on trying to stay calm even though your head was spinning.

“Shall we enjoy the rest of the evening in a more comfortable setting?” Raphael asked carefully. The rumble of his voice set your very soul alight. Gods help you, you were hanging on his every word. A pulse of desire was pooling into a warm liquid that spread through your body.

“You’re the Master of the House, so I’ll follow your lead,” you managed to reply.

Raphael arched a brow in surprise and chuckled. He stood up.

“Undoubtedly I am. Come.”

He offered his arm to you like the perfect gentleman and walked you down to the next room. Just holding his arm threatened to turn your legs into jelly, but you steeled yourself, determined, though nervous to see the evening through.

The room was a small parlour with plush sofas and small tea tables littered with delicacies and confectioneries. You made a little gasp. Calimshan Knots, Mraed and different kinds of chocolate were on display on a luxurious silver tray with three layers. It looked almost too beautiful to break a piece from the work of art for a taste.

Raphael guided you to sit down on one of the red loveseats and sat down next to you. Exhilarated at the proximity, you had to force yourself to breathe, only to inhale his sweet scent of cherries concentrated in the air.

“Please. Indulge.” He motioned towards the sweets, but you felt the words had another underlying meaning. Your blood started running hotter in your veins.

Raphael examined your features with great interest.

“You said there was something you wanted to discuss with me…” you suddenly remembered.

“Ah, yes. There is a matter of great importance that your little group will soon have to resolve,” Raphael stated and his head tilted slightly in thought. “One way or the other.”

“Oh? What kind of matter?” you asked unsure if you really wanted to hear this. “I assume it has something to do with the Artefact?”

“Technically, yes,” he said, a hand to his chin, “I happen to possess an item of great interest to aid you in this predicament. I could be persuaded to part with it.”

You blinked. “And what would I have to offer in return for this item?”

Raphael chuckled mirthfully. “Very good, little raven. Your skills in the art of infernal negotiation are improving. But, for this particular instance, I’m willing to take a loss.”

Simultaneous feelings of unease and pride clouded your mind. “That’s… unexpected. You would lose hold of such an item for me?”

“If it means you win, my dear,” Raphael purred and leaned closer. “However, it still comes with its conjectures.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” you said quietly, “What would those conjectures be?”

“I’m willing to loan you this item, if” – Raphael lifted exactly one finger in the air – ”you promise to return it along with another trinket of my choosing.”

He could very well ask something impossible of you and do whatever he wanted with your soul in the end when you inevitably failed to deliver. So far Raphael had been fair in his dealings, but you had to be careful. Cryptic and unhelpful hints aside, you didn’t want to think about the Artefact, the tadpole or the Absolute right now.

“I’ll think about it and get back to you,” you murmured.

Raphael barked a laugh. “Indeed. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, my dear.”

The laugh left the remnants of a smirk over his lips. You swallowed. His scent of fire and cherries was making you go mad as it addled your poor, tadpoled brain. He lifted his arm over the sofa back and angled his body properly to you.

“You, my most troubled protege, will surely make the right decision,” his lover’s voice whispered with a rumble you could almost feel over your body.

Raphael’s hand dipped to caress your shoulder. The touch ignited a trail of fire in its path. He leaned closer and instinctively you leaned away. A proper smirk now curved his lips. So it became a chase; the fox hunted the raven. Your breaths grew shorter by the second.

He placed his other hand on your knee, a gesture to keep you still. The touch shot a wave of heat through you and you barely held back a wince. Thanks to the wine and your general ludacrity, you were already feeling wanton enough in his company, so you wouldn’t be able to take much of his enabling to finally snap and throw all noble notions into the fires of Hell.

That was presumably his goal.

“I’ve grown fond of you, little raven,” Raphael purred, “I’d hate to see you make the wrong choice.”

His every word caressed your skin, adding fuel to the liquid fire raging in your body. You swallowed to gather the last bits of your prudence and said: “I’m sure my companions and I will make the best decision we can under the circumstances.”

Raphael’s smile widened, his head leaned to the side. “That is most gratifying to hear, my dear.”

His hand still lay on your knee and you believed you felt it inch up your thigh while the other one continued caressing your shoulder, trekking up to the back of your neck. You couldn’t take your eyes off Raphael’s face. His gaze lowered to your lips. You placed your hand over his on your thigh and saw the delight spill into his expression. His skin was hot and you were already dreaming how it would feel wandering around your body; caressing, circling, fondling…

Did he do this with all his clients? Somehow you knew the answer. You could read it in the curve on his lips and the spark in his eyes. Mortals often held no such interest to him.

You were special.

In the back of all the lust-ridden thoughts, you wondered how it might feel to be loved by him, to wake up next to those molten saffron or darkened honey-tinted eyes.

You swallowed as Raphael’s fingers moved to the inner side of your thigh.

“Though I could use some motivation…” you heard yourself saying loud and clear.

The devil’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before they were lit with plain and clear desire.

“What a brave and naughty little thing you are. You never cease to surprise me,” Raphael husked. The words were latent with seduction and promise.

He leaned closer and you felt his shallow and waiting breaths fanning over your cheek. Only the warmth radiating from his body and his scent of sweet cherries, deep musk and smoky brimstone was registering at this point. You felt almost woozy, aching in the trepidation that he might pull away and not give you what you craved more and more with each passing second.

Raphael’s eyes were the colour of dark honey, his eyelashes so dark and beautiful, and the thought of his lips on you… The consuming craving to taste him was overwhelming.

“It’s the company I keep,” you intended to say, but in the end were unsure if the words actually left your mouth or were blocked.

Raphael kissed you with overwhelming heat and hunger.

He cupped the back of your head and pulled you right into him.

The kiss was searing, passionate and would’ve swooped you right off your feet had you been standing. His hand instantly made headway up your leg, fingers already tracing your inner thigh and unceremoniously delving closer to your aroused, aching sex.

You gripped Raphael’s shirt, pulling him even closer. You wanted him closer. You wanted him so much. How you wished the clothes on your back would just burn away.

He pushed you against the sofa back with his body. His mouth moved from your reddened and swollen lips to plant hot kisses on your cheek, jaw and down to your neck. You mewled with pleasure and offered yourself to him, indulging his every motion and brush of his lips.

Two thoughts fought for purchase in your head, but neither gained any foothold: were you really doing this with your patron and what consequences there would be. Your soul was already damned. He had been tempting you for weeks so it was about time for things to progress this way. Tangling your body with his surely didn’t actually mean anything.

“Give yourself to me,” Raphael whispered into your ear, his breathing tickling. His hand reached its aim between your legs and you gasped as he resolutely stroked your clothed sex.

Your whole body quivered from the delicious friction of the contact and you bit your lip. A tight sensation coiled in your lower abdomen, ready to burst at the next hint of touch.

You wanted more of him.

“So eager…” Raphael whispered. He kept your head still and close, turning it as he pleased to reach the sweetest spots of your skin. You acquiesced to all of it, too stunned, too ravenous for more to move. The grip of your fist tightened on his arm and at the hem of his shirt.

He claimed your lips again. You spread your legs and his nimble fingers stroked you through your clothes with the most perfect pressure, all the while his heavy breaths tickled your neck and the shell of your ear between demanding kisses. The more you gasped and moaned, the more laborious his breaths also became.

“R-Raphael…” Your throat was dry and your voice already hoarse.

Your hand wandered south with the goal of reciprocating the pleasure he was giving you, but the brushing motions of his fingers sped up and you waivered, abandoning mission. It was extremely hard to focus on anything else besides the pleasure Raphael was so expertly giving to you.

Amidst the kisses and hot breaths on burning your skin, your release was hell-bent on building fast and hard, and, frankly, it surprised you both.

It hit you like a pit fiend running into a wall at full speed.

You gasped for air, clutching Raphael’s forearm and felt the ravaging pulsing against his fingers through your clothes.

“Fuck…” you huffed, voice hoarse.

Raphael’s motions stopped as it dawned on him: You had reached an orgasm in a shamefully short time. It was certainly… surprising.

“Uh, guess I was more motivation-starved than I thought,” you managed to mumble in what you aimed to be an apologising tone. Your head was spinning from the sharp and intense orgasm, and it was extremely hard to think in complete sentences.

Raphael slowly drew back from you with a muted expression. No tender kisses, no praises, he was just staring at you in mild disbelief.

“I, uhm. Do you want to…?” you mumbled ambiguously, but couldn’t quite reach the shame waiting somewhere in the back of your mind. It had felt way too good to be ashamed.

You took a deep breath to clear your head and Raphael straightened his back.

Then he laughed, low and rough and assumed back his role. “Like I said, you never fail to surprise me, little raven.”

You blinked. He was acting as if he had not just kissed you silly and made you come with his fingers while both of you were still fully clothed.

“Hopefully the evening was as enjoyable to you as it was for me,” he continued in a cultured tone.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. So that’s how it was going to be. You hurried to settle your clothes into a more presentable state and hopped to your feet. Your legs were shaking and you felt lightheaded. There was no way your companions would not realise what had happened. Astarion would take one look at you and start either yapping or giggling.

“Yes, uh. Would you be so kind and send me back now?” you inquired, trying to reach an impassive tone but failing spectacularly.

Raphael paused, clearly deciding whether to abide by your request or not. Not a hint of the earlier lust was visible on his face. Either he hid it extremely well or your little display had not affected him at all. How frustrating. So he could make you come with a single finger, but you had no effect on him.

“Of course. Far be it from me to keep you here against your will,” Raphael said with an incline of his head. Not even a hair was out of place on him.

With a quick snap, he sent you back to camp right then and there. A swift look around told you that no one was awake. Good.

Only a moment later you realised that by ‘motivation’ Raphael probably had not meant to allow you to come. Oh well, what was done was done. You could only hope the consequences of your own actions wouldn’t come back to haunt you.

My writing masterlist

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x you #raphael x reader #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #the devil wears house slippers

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hydrostalgia · 3 months ago

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GOD DAMN

meow

oh damn

#yap tag #im on page 3853

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ellenya · 2 months ago

Text

One day, one rhyme- Day 3853

It’s green outside, and inside pink;

Delicious, healthy and I think,

On this street, lucky it’s not towed:

A watermelon on the road.

#rhyme #poetry #poets corner #poets on tumblr #onedayonerhyme #twcpoetry

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tropes-and-tales · 7 months ago

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Shadow and Light: Chapter Two

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x F!Reader

WC: 3853

Other Pieces: This is part of a larger miniseries that can be found here.

CW: Slow-burn; plot-building; canon violence; minor injuries.

It was Mando’s own fault that he got hurt within seconds of landing the Crest on Arvala-7.

You had woken up in the co-pilot’s seat, nestled under your own cloak and a little sore from sleeping in an awkward angle. Mando was in his pilot’s seat, and he gave a quarter turn and the barest of nods as you woke up by degrees. You swiped a surreptitious hand over your mouth in case you’d been drooling. Hoped you hadn’t been snoring too loudly or worse, talking in your sleep.

“Where are we?” you asked, and your voice was rough with sleep.

“Nearly there.”

You watched him a moment as he adjusted course. “I’m going to go clean up a little,” you finally said, and Mando gave you that same curt nod.

You made your way out of the cockpit (smiling at the squeal of the door on its track) and into the ship. You had scouted it out quickly when you had crept on board back on Navarro, so you knew the basic layout. The tiny berth where he likely slept, if Mandalorians slept at all. The weapons locker, where your weapons were likely stashed.

You went into the refresher and slid the door shut behind you. It was a cramped space, but there was a tiny mirror over the sink, and you winced at your own reflection. There was a deep groove in your cheek from where your face had rested on the co-pilot’s seat as you slept. Your hair was a mess.

You did your business, then washed your hands, then undid your braids. Finger-combed your hair and redid the braids, and hoped that you looked presentable. Like a helpful partner and not a saboteur.

If the Mandalorians had their creed, you had your own too. You weren’t exactly sure what culture you came from, and you’d been raised by non-humans, so you had cobbled together your own sort of dogma. You had a connection to Ashla, which some cultures called the Force, and your foster-mother had encouraged that gift. It informed most of your rules, which weren’t really rules as much as a loose framework that you lived by. Try to do no harm. Try to tilt the balance of the galaxy a bit towards the good.

The only real rule you really followed was to always be mindful of the signs sent to you. It would be easy to pretend you didn’t see – you could just settle down on some backwater planet, get a job as a mechanic, get a little house with a garden. But your foster-mother had been certain that the galaxy had plans for you, and you tried to honor her. Navarro had pulled you in like a magnet, and you soon found out why – that secret, guarded science facility. You could sense the malevolence circling it like a storm. It was not unlike the feeling you got all the time on Lasan as you grew up in the shadow of the dying Empire.

So when it came to Mando and this job? You wouldn’t kill him, and you wouldn’t harm him…but if he tried to stop you from destroying the asset you both came to retrieve, you would have to incapacitate him somehow. One way or another, that asset was not going to fall into the hands of that malignant client.

By the time you got back to the cockpit, the Razor Crest was approaching the dessert planet. You sat down and buckled in, just in case the landing was bumpy.

“How do you know where we’re going?” you asked. “Which part of the planet, I mean?” Despite your ulterior motives, you were curious about the technicalities of bounty hunting.

There was a beat of silence. “I usually land outside of a settlement,” he finally offered. “Close enough to walk, far enough to not draw too much attention. Get intel, then go from there.”

You watched him as he piloted the ship over some mountains until he found a valley. He circled around, his hands moving over the controls in a series of smooth motions. The Crest settled onto the planet with a slight jostle that, if you weren’t mistaken, was due to one of the landing skis engaging a second later than the others.

Mando stood up and hesitated a split second before striding past you, and you followed him down the ladder into the cargo hold. You stood back and watched him unlock his weapons cache. He armed himself and then locked it again.

“Can I get my rifle?” you asked. You still had the vibro-knife he hadn’t found when he searched you the night before, but that was barely a weapon.

Mando only shook his head and informed you that he didn’t trust you yet. Fair enough.

So you watched him stride down the gangway, scan the horizon with his tracking fob…and you watched him get mauled by the leathery grey beast that bore down on him from out of nowhere.

You frantically looked around the Crest and found a loose wrench by the carbonite chamber, and you sprinted out to help. You got there in time to find Mando on his back, his arm trapped in the mouth of the dead beast. Another dead one lay a few feet away. You looked closer…no, not dead. You could see the tranquilizer darts sticking out of their hides, and a distance away, a rider mounted on a third beast, his dart gun still in hand.

You walked over to where the Mandalorian lay on his back, his breath a little ragged through his helmet from his skirmish. You brandished the wrench at him.

“I can’t help with just this,” you told him, and he only answered with a huff.

“C’mon,” you said. You extended a hand that he looked at for a beat, then took it with another huff. You helped haul him up and resisted the urge to knock some of the dust off of his armor. “There’s a local who wants to make our acquaintance, I think.”

*****

Mando wasn’t used to working with a partner, so after he rested and returned to the cockpit to begin the approach to the planet, he was startled to see you sleeping in the co-pilot’s seat. You didn’t wake as he carefully stepped past you, and you were curled up like a lothcat under your cloak.

He frowned under his helmet. He hadn’t forgotten you were there, exactly, but he wasn’t as on-guard as he usually was. When he worked with Ran and his crew of mercenaries, he was always on guard. Jumpy, even. Distrustful and nearly paranoid. He should have felt the same about you – you’d stowed yourself away on his ship, for Maker’s sake, and you had nearly held him at rifle-point. But you’d been mild as anything as he disarmed you. Calm, collected – and not like the practiced calm he could exude when needed. It seemed to radiate from some deep place in you.

You were calm when he refused to return your weapons to you. You were calm and bemused as you helped him stand after he was attacked by the squat leathery creatures, the blurrgs.

He relented only a moment later and retrieved your bo-rifle from the weapons locker, and he tried to ignore the smile you were obviously biting back when you took it from him.

The local turned out to be an Ugnaught named Kulil, and you and Mando followed him back to his moisture farm. Kulil gave his insight into the encampment that was causing strife on the once-peaceful planet.

“Many have passed through,” he told the two of you. “They seek the same one as you.”

So you hadn’t been lying about that bit of intel you had offered. The asset was dangerous, guarded by dangerous people. Mando caught you watching him, and you gave him a nod as if to say, told you so.

The Ugnaught agreed to help guide you both to the encampment in exchange for the blurrgs, and then in the next breath, he informed you that said blurrgs would need to be tamed and ridden to the encampment. Maybe you couldn’t see under his helmet, but you still looked at Mando and must have sensed his discomfort, because you burst into a gale of laughter. Then you stood up and followed Kulil to the blurrg enclosure with obvious excitement.

Great.

*****

Your foster-mother always told you to try and do things the easy way, and that lesson had taken a while to sink in. You’d spent most of your adolescence frustrated and angry as you tried to do everything the hardest way possible. But you’d eventually learned.

Mando apparently never got that lesson.

You and Kulil stood side by side against the fence and watched the armored man get tossed, trampled, and otherwise mangled by the ornery blurrg.

“Perhaps if you removed your helmet,” Kulil offered helpfully.

“Perhaps he remembered I tried to roast him,” Mando bit back.

“This is a female. The males are eaten during mating.”

You snorted at that as Mando marched over to you.

“We don’t have time for this,” he told Kulil. “Do you have a landspeeder I can hire?”

You didn’t wait to hear the answer. You pulled off your cloak and hung it over the fence, then ducked under the rail to stand beside Mando in the enclosure. “Come on,” you told him. “You’re just approaching her wrong.”

You could hear the sarcasm in his reply, making his voice staticky through the modulator of his helmet. “Oh, so you can rebuild engines and ride blurrgs? Any other skills you failed to mention?”

“I have many talents,” you said in mock seriousness as you both approached the blurrg. She eyed you each suspiciously, but she had an especially wary eye for Mando. “But you need to be gentle. Like this.”

You demonstrated by reaching a careful hand out to the creature, letting her sniff your palm at her own pace. Then you laid your hand on its head, stroking the rough skin between the wide-set eyes. The blurrg gave a growl, but it was a low rumble of contentment. You turned and looked at Mando. His helmet was tilted a bit as he watched you.

“See? Gentle. No need to overpower.”

“Gentle rarely works in bounty hunting.”

You grasped the rope around the blurrg’s thick neck and swung up onto her back in a smooth motion. She snorted and growled…but let you keep your seat. You looked down and couldn’t, obviously, make out Mando’s expression behind his beskar helmet. You imagined him rolling his eyes in irritation – but you were wrong. He was studying you closer while pointedly ignore the growing spark of feeling that made him study you at all.

*****

Once properly mounted, the three of you rode across the harsh landscape towards the encampment. When Kulil showed you the encampment and then left, you followed Mando carefully, laying low on the ridge beside him and watching him as he surveyed the situation. Theoretically, he was supposed to be teaching you the trade, so he cleared his throat and offered some insight into what he was seeing.

“Nikto guards,” he told you. “Not sure how many, but a lot. They are tough fighters.” He turned and looked you over. You were in your dun-colored cloak, and he could see the outline of the rifle on your back. He certainly didn’t trust you fully, but you hadn’t done anything to disabuse him of the little trust he did have for you now. And you had helped him tame the blurrg in record time.

“How good a shot are you at a distance?” he asked. You gazed at him, and while he knew you couldn’t see his eyes, it felt almost like you could see him. You had looked at him like that on the Crest when he first captured you, and you had looked at him like that again when you had tamed the blurrg. It made his stomach dip curiously.

“I’m good,” you finally answered. “I was raised in the mountain ranges of Lasan, and we went on missions to snipe imps all the time.”

“Good.” He scanned the surroundings and then pointed at a nearby ridge. “You’re good at sneaking around. Do you think you can get to that ridge over there and cover me when the firing starts?”

You shifted a little and leaned closer to him as you followed his pointing, and Mando felt that churn to his stomach again when your shoulder brushed against him. “That one? Yes, I can get there. Give me, say, ten minutes?”

“Good,” he repeated. “Don’t fire until I start, and try to take out their snipers first. I can handle the close range Niktos.”

You nodded and crawled away, and he was only able to watch you for a moment before he lost you in the shifting landscape of browns and reds. You were good.

And then an IG-11 unit marched onto the scene, and Mando forgot about you for a moment or two.

*****

The shooting started before you were set up, but when you took a prone position and sighted your rifle, you saw that it was a droid – an IG unit, you guessed – that was drawing most of the fire from the guards. Then Mando arrived on the scene, and you followed his directions. One by one, you picked off the Nikto guards and snipers that popped up on the roof and parapets of the fortress.

It was almost too easy. They were so focused on Mando and the droid, they never even looked up at the ridge where you lay. Which was good, as far as you were concerned: the moment Kulil showed you the encampment, you felt a strange feeling creep over you. It was the same feeling when you channeled Ashla, and it got stronger and stronger as you holstered your rifle and made your way to the door of the compound to join Mando and the IG unit.

That feeling? It had to be a sign. You were on the right path, and you had to destroy the asset before it fell into the hands of that scientist.

But when you got to Mando, he was already talking to the droid. The Mandalorian held up the beeping tracking fob and the IG remarked that there was a life form present.

“Another Nikto?” you asked, and Mando gave you that short, curt shake of his head that he did.

“The bounty,” he replied.

You shook your own head now. “No, I thought…” You trailed off, tried to form your thoughts. “I thought we were tracking an asset. A weapon. A thing.”

Now Mando tilted his head, and you swore you heard amusement through his helmet. “Bounty hunting usually entails the living,” he said. “Whether we bring them in warm or cold depends on the job.”

You felt the blood rising in your cheeks and shook your head again. “No, I know that. I just…this was off the books. The man who hired you…” You gazed at Mando, at the slit in his helmet where you figured his eyes were. “Didn’t he hire you to bring him a weapon? They kept calling it an ‘asset’ in the cantina.”

He didn’t answer. The IG unit did it’s jerky, mechanical march inside the compound, and Mando followed. You followed too, your mind racing. You had expected a piece of some weapon, some component for the Empire to rebuild, some piece of a new weapon to exterminate entire worlds, entire species…

It was a living creature. No, a child. The egg-shaped container opened to reveal a green creature with huge ears and black eyes, and the feeling that had been growing all afternoon hit you so hard that you gasped. Whatever the creature was, it was linked somehow to Ashla, or the Force.

Not a weapon at all. A child.

Everything after that realization happened in slow motion: the droid raising its blaster, Mando replying, you shouting and reaching across Mando’s armored chest to try and knock the blaster out of the IG’s grip. The IG hitting you, not hard enough to kill or seriously injure, but hard enough to make your ears ring. You on the ground, stunned by the blow, hearing the blaster shot. You, looking up in shock when the IG unit fell to the ground beside you, destroyed.

Mando, holding his own blaster as it smoked in the half-light of the room.

And Mando, looking down at you for a moment before extending his hand to help you up. And once you were back on your feet, his hand on your shoulder just a beat longer than necessary as he asked if you were okay.

*****

Mandalorians were notoriously distrustful. Mando definitely did not trust you.

He would begrudgingly admit that you were a good partner during this job. You took out a shocking number of Nikto guards and had half-trotted, half-slid down the loose scree of the hillside afterwards like it was nothing at all. Your confusion over the bounty was charmingly naïve, but he supposed he understood – the job was off the books and no exactly straightforward.

Afterwards, as the two of you walked with the floating crib, you had been ambushed by other bounty hunters. You had proven yourself there too, fighting with your weapon as an electrostaff. You moved gracefully, like a dancer, without a wasted movement.

And that evening, over the campfire, you proved yourself a different way.

Mando had been injured in the ambush, and the gash in his arm wept blood steadily enough to need attention. It was his dominant arm, and he fumbled with his cauterizer. Dropped it. Picked it up. Dropped it again with a muttered curse in Mando’a. You watched him a moment across the dancing flames of the fire, and then offered to help.

“I can do it,” he grunted, his voice rough with pain. It was a deep cut into the muscle, and he could only go a fraction at a time with the cauterizer before he had to stop and catch his breath from the searing hurt.

He could feel those eyes of yours on him, those big doe-eyes that seemed so expressive and seemed to see through his beskar helmet. You didn’t reply though – you just stood up and made your way over to him, and you sat down beside him.

“Let me help,” you said. “I have a gift for healing.”

Mando snorted, but he dropped the cauterizer again with his clumsy hand. “Fine,” he said.

You didn’t pick up the tool. You stood back up and retrieved your bo-rifle, and you stopped a moment to scoop the escaping child back into the crib. Then you settled back to kneel beside Mando.

“This,” you said, holding out your weapon, “is for close-range and long-range attacks. Electrostaff and rifle.”

“So are you going to shoot me or electrocute me?”

You smiled at him, and Mando felt that curious dip in his gut again. “Most people don’t realize that there’s a third setting.” Mando watched as you undid a strap, clicked the pieces of the weapon until it resembled a trident. “This setting isn’t a weapon. It’s a….conduit. For channeling.”

“Channeling what?”

You bit down on your lower lip as you pondered your answer. “It has a lot of names. Life Current. Life Wind. The Force. On Lasan, we called it ‘Ashla.’”

Mando had heard stories about that magical nonsense – fairy stories to tell children, as far as he was concerned. But you seemed so earnest that he gave a single nod, and you continued.

“I can…do things with it,” you said. You were halting, and even in the firelight, he could make out your blushing face. “When I use the trident, I can sometimes…see things. From the past. From possible futures. That’s usually how I use it, so I know what to do, where to go. Which path to follow.” You glanced up at him now. “But I can also heal with it.”

“Okay.” He didn’t believe it for a moment, but you had helped him at both the encampment and in the ambush. He owed you a modicum of belief, he figured, and when it invariably failed, he could use the cauterizer.

You nodded, but then the flush on your face deepened. “I’d have to, uh, touch you. I know Mandalorians don’t like that….”

You were right. But something made him mutter “okay” again, which made you nod again, and then you powered on the trident.

Mando wasn’t a believer of anything but the Way, the Creed, the rigid set of rules that controlled his lonely life. In the following days, he’d question what he saw – and felt – in this moment. But right now, the trident sparked a steady stream of blue electrocurrent between its points, and a lovely blue aura was cast over you and him. It made him feel that same calm you seemed to exude. You closed your eyes, squeezed them tight as you concentrated. One hand held the trident steady, and the other reached out, unseeing, to hover over the deep gash in his arm.

“Is this okay?” you asked, and your voice sounded a quarter-octave lower. More assured, too.

“Yes,” he replied, and you laid your hand on him.

When was the last time he’d been touched? When had he last felt someone else’s skin against his own? Your hand was warm, and he flinched at first…but then pressed his arm against your touch a little firmer. Greedy, almost, for the sudden contact, like a desert soaking up rain for the first time in years.

Under your warm hand, Mando could feel….whatever it was. Working. He could feel the muscle knitting itself together, the slashed veins, and then the skin. It was warm too, and he felt contentment wash over him as you touched him.

All too soon, it was over. You pulled your hand away and turned the trident off. Opened your eyes and sagged backwards a little. Mando flexed his hand and twisted his arm to look at it in the fire light. The skin was unbroken, smooth. There wasn’t even a scar.

The mostly-silent man had a million questions, but when he turned to ask you some of them, he saw that the healing came at a price: you were slumped in your kneeling position, and your trident was slipping from your hand.

Mando reached out and caught it. Then he reached out and caught you.

You weren’t unconscious though. You braced yourself as he eased you onto the ground, and you sighed your thanks as he removed his cloak to fold it and place it under your head. He arranged your own cloak around you and watched as your eyelids grew too heavy for you to fight any longer.

Then he watched you sleep for a long, long while, and he only noticed the child watching too when it made a cooing noise at you. Mando could have sworn it sounded sympathetic.

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #tropes and tales

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