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lavendersb · 4 years ago

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Din Djarin x reader

Summary: Din wants to give you the universe. Making you see stars seems like a good place to start.

Warnings: Smut, this is str8 up sin, fingering, soft!dom Din, service!dom Din, overstimulation, so much praise, i wrote this at 3am so if this is hardly literate im so sorry :)

@maybege i have you to blame for encouraging my sinful behaviour

Din doesn’t know how he survived before you.

Of coursed he coped, he hadn’t become the best bounty hunter in the parsec without a certain level of diligence. His structured Mandalorian upbringing had taught him the importance of being capable and organized, of always being one step ahead.

But the child had brought with him its own unique set of challenges. Din could deal with the bounty hunters and imperial forces, they where nothing new to him. The joys of parenthood however had taken some getting used to.

He was an angel most of the time. Din could spend hours with the little womp rat and not encounter the slightest hitch, but when the fancy struck him, the child could turn into a little terror of angry gargles and twitching ears. The fact that he could also throw items around the crest with his strange magic powers didn’t make these tantrums any easier for Din to handle.

That’s when you had arrived. Offering your services as caretaker and claiming to be a half -decent mechanic as well, Din had hired you almost instantly. The child was almost as taken with you as he was, and from that moment on, Din never looked back.

He learns quickly that you had been very modest about your skills. Not only where you capable of handling whatever the child threw your way, you could also help with just about any problem the crest came up with. Din also learns that you’re not bad in a fight, and on the odd occasion he invites you out on a hunt with him. You work together like a well-oiled machine, united by a common goal of protecting the child. Protecting each other.

Perhaps it was your caring and capable nature that drew Din closer to you than he ever expected he would. Regardless of what it had been, Din has never felt as happy as when he comes home to see the love of his life waiting for him with his strange little son.

This is where his mind has wondered as he trudges through the swampy mud back to his ship. The bounty was on planet thankfully, so Din never had to worry about bringing the quarry near to his safe haven. The safe haven in question, the metallic body of the razor crest, peeks out at him through the trees and Din’s feet just can’t move fast enough.

Din lowers the ramp, and as he reaches the warmly lit interior of the hull he can’t help but pause a moment in shock.

The hull when Din had left it was a state. On the previous planet you had returned to the crest just as a team of Jawas had started to tear it apart. Thankfully Din had managed to scare them off before they could cause any real damage, but a fair few interior wall panels had already been unscrewed and tossed aside. This morning Din had left the hull in that same state. Now it was as if there had never been any damage at all.

But there, in the centre of the hull is the thing that makes Din’s heart clench beneath the beskar. You’ve set a small metal container on the ground, filled it with some warm water which gently steams, and placed the little green child inside for a bath. He watches where you kneel beside the tub, grinning at the child as he holds one of your fingers in one tiny hand, and splashes the water with the other.

“Hi,” you say through a slight laugh, snapping Din out of his reverent staring “we’re almost done here”

Din walks forward, coming to stand beside you and bending to press his forehead to yours softly.

“Did you fix the ship?” he asks softly, though he knows the answer.

“Yes,” you confirm, pulling away from him reluctantly. The child, now wholly interested in the return of his father, reaches out to Din and begins to babble uncontrollably.

“We’ve had a busy day, haven’t we? But you’ve been such a good helper,” You say to the child, and Din watches you fish the wriggling child out of his bath and wrap him up in a soft towel. He notes that the task of fixing the crest must have taken almost all of the day, and having to keep the child entertained at the same time wouldn’t have made it easy for you.

“Mesh’la, have you eaten today?”

Din takes your silence as an answer and his happiness falters just a little. Of course you would prioritise your task and the child before yourself. Sometimes he wonders how you would survive without him.

“I wanted to wait” you reassure him weakly “enjoy my break when the work is done”

“I’ll take him from here, you should rest” Din says, leaving no room for argument.

He takes the child from you, now dressed in a freshly cleaned robe (another task you’ve completed that he wants to thank you for). Din sees a moment of doubt pass over your face as you try to argue with him, but the feeling of tiredness creeping into your bones wins you over. With an acknowledging smile, you kiss the child on the head and disappear towards the nearest bunk.

Din takes care of the last few jobs of the day, content in the knowledge that his love is resting nearby. He makes the jump to hyperspace first, cradling the child in his arms. The little bundle is still warm from the bath, and Din watches his big glossy eyes blink slowly at him, trying to savour the last moment seeing his Buir’s shiny helmet before he falls asleep.

Once the child is safely asleep in his cot, Din goes to fish through his bag, producing one of the fresh bread rolls and a selection of berry’s he bought before he returned. He plates them with the last of the soup that’s left, and once he’s finished his own portion and secured his helmet back in place, he calls out to you to join him.

Woozy and half asleep, Din watches fondly as you float towards the little kitchen set-up. The sleep in your eyes is replaced with excitement as you catch a glimpse of the fresh food on the table.

“Din,” you breathe “you shouldn’t have”

“It’s the least I can do for everything you’ve done today”

Din watches as you happily devour the food. He listens intently as you tell him all of the things you and the child got up to that day. How long it took to fix the panels, how the two of you played out in the muddy swamp for a while before you brought the child in for a well needed bath. This domesticity is something so new to him, but you make it feel easy. Just like you made it easy for him to fall in love with you. He would give you the galaxy, Din thinks, if only he knew where to start.

When the food is finished, Din clears the plates away but there’s a feeling deep down in his soul that he can do more for you. There’s still something else he can provide. As he sees you walk away towards the refresher, he knows he must act fast.

Din crowds you against the wall, pressing you against the panels you’ve just diligently fixed. A hand that rests at the back of your head prevents you from hurting your skull, and Din lets his fingers wind through the strands beneath them. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at his visor, surprised by his sudden movements and hopeful, Din can tell, that he might be about to pull unspeakable pleasures from you.

“Have I taken care of you? He asks quietly.

“Y-yes”

“No,” Din chastises “I haven’t. Not yet. Tell me what you need”

Your lips flutter as the words Din seeks dance around your mouth. He encourages your response by fisting your hair a little harder, not to be cruel, but to ease you into his instruction.

“You, Din” he finally hears you gasp “I need you”

Pride swells in him at your words, and he moves the hand in your hair to wrap around the small of your back and fasten on your waist, pulling you close to him whilst he presses you to the wall.

“Then you’ll have me”

Din uses his free hand to pull at the obstructing fabric that keeps him from the apex of your thighs. Softly, but without preamble his hand dips to your heat and makes a gentle swipe through your folds, groaning when he finds it warm and soft and so very wet already.

His fingers find your clit and with tiny, firm little circles he plays with it to his hearts content. Din feels you tremble and sag against him, enjoying how accepting you become to his touch.

“My sweet girl,” Din breathes, and it’s said so reverently it makes you tremble and mewl just that bit more.

“My sweet girl, you’ve worked so hard today” The movements against your clit slow and you whine in complaint. Din chuckles and shushes you “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you whine desperately, moving to grip the arm that reaches between your legs, hoping to encourage it to move again.

Din smiles beneath his helmet, satisfied with your compliance as he returns to your clit with vigour, plucking from you tiny gasps that draw his hungry eyes to the way your pretty chest rises and falls.

“Then cum mesh’la. Come so I can fuck your pretty cunt with my fingers”

And oh how that filthy promise pushes you off the edge. He feels you stiffen in his arms and pulls you closer to him until you feel crushed by his solid presence. You can hardly register it though, too lost in the waves of pleasure that don’t seem to ease at all. Din doesn’t stop playing with your clit until your pretty moans turn to gasps and pleas to stop.

He doesn’t remove his hand from you, simply sliding his fingers down to trace that little fluttering hole he loves so dearly. He watches your face the whole time, enjoying how slack it goes when the first finger makes a teasing press against you.

“Pretty girl you take such good care of us, but you neglect yourself” he teasingly scolds, pressing into you a little further with his finger and watching you keen at his tone.

“Would you like to be taken care of? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, Din, yes” you nod frantically, squirming in his firm grasp.

He squeezes your hip in warning, before sliding his finger deep inside you. Both of you groan at the feeling of your soft heat welcoming his finger. He starts to pump into you, his pace direct and precise, hitting against that soft spongy spot with each push. Din wanted to give you the galaxy, making you see stars seemed like a good place to start.

“I knew from the first minute I saw you that you’d be so warm and soft everywhere” Din says as you cry out for him “and I was right, wasn’t I mesh’la? Your cunt might be the warmest, softest thing in the whole galaxy”

As he adds another finger, Din swears he’s never felt more whole then when he’s breaking you apart like this. Letting you be tender and vulnerable. You break apart for him so well he muses.

“Won’t you cum for me?” he says, and stars you’ve never wanted to come so bad in all your life. Not just because you think you might explode at the way his fingers are aiming for that spot that makes you cry out in pleasure, but also because you want- no need him to know how much you love him. How grateful you are that he treats you so well.

When you do cum its electric. You reach for Din’s pauldron for support, gripping the metal as you rock against his hand. He feels you soak his palm and groans, shamelessly grinding himself against whatever part if you he can.

He doesn’t pull his fingers from you, instead he massages your walls gently watching you twitch when he rubs that special place inside you. He waits until you meet his eye through the visor, expectantly waiting for him to withdraw his fingers.

Instead he presses his thumb back against your thoroughly abused clit and holds you tighter as you give a startled jolt against him.

“Din,” you whine, and he smirks at how wrecked and helpless you sound “I can’t-“

“You can” he insists, picking up the pace of the fingers inside you “You’ll cum again because I’m telling you to. Because I’m taking care of you, right?”

You can barely nod in response, your body to busy trying to cope with the overwhelming feeling of overstimulation. Din gazes at your face, taken by the way your brows pinch and fat tears fill your waterline and weigh down your eyelashes.

The sight of you has him desperate, and he removes the hand from around your waist, using his torso to pin you to the wall so you don’t collapse. He tugs the cowl away from his neck to expose the tanned skin of his neck. You don’t need his instruction to know what to do next, and with what little energy left in your body, you lean forward to press messy, fluttering kisses to the skin over his pulse.

Din grunts, truly blissed out by the feeling of you on him doubles his assault on your sensitive heat. He barely hears your gasping warning before he feels you come utterly undone against him. Your cunt squeezes his fingers so tightly, and he makes sure to tell you that, though he’s not sure you can hear him. Your face is still pressed against his neck, breathing against him, and he swears he feels a wet tear drop against his skin.

“I love you, sweet girl” he says, pulling his fingers from you softly.

The hum that comes from your heavy, satisfied, and sleepy body tells him he’s done his job well. He lets himself feel proud. Upstairs, his child sleeps soundly in his crib. Well protected and well loved. Here, in his arms, lays his love. Soon she’ll be asleep in their shared bed, and Din will find himself wondering how he was blessed with such a wonderful and loving partner.

#sdklmwfoncamk #anyway can yall tell im h*rny #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #my writing #smut #star wars #star wars x reader

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linkspooky · 5 years ago

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Hey, I’ve been reading a lot of your BNHA metas, (they’re all absolutely awesome btw) and I was wondering about two things, what kind of mental illness do you think Shigaraki has? And I read a post somewhere that speculated that he might have suffered a tbi when his father hit him with the tree sheers, do you think that might be true?

Hello anon, thank you for your ask!

I will try to answer your questions the best I can, however beforehand I think it’s important to note that I don’t really like diagnosing characters outside of like specific examples where the authors tell us this is the disease they were attempting to portray, or headcanons. Shigaraki clearly shows signs of mental illness, but I don’t think Horikoshi writes characters by looking up a list of symptoms in the DSM and then writing them based on that.

Also yes, the two clearest examples of mental Illness (Shigaraki, Twice) are both villains but I have faith that the mental illness of Shigaraki is an instance where it’s used to humanize him and show how much of a victim of a system both characters are, rather than just to give the villain traits that are abnormal and therefore creepy and dangerous.

I can’t give you a specific dianogisis but I can give you a more in depth look at several symptoms that Shigaraki displays.

Excoriation

Excoriation disorder is an obsessive-compulsive spectrum mental disorder that is characterized by the repeated urge or impulse to pick at one’s own skin to the extent that either psychological or physical damage is caused. In Shigaraki’s case it’s clearly a stress response that is aggravated the more violent, unstable or dangerous a situation he is put into.

Which is why I find claims that Shigaraki is content with violence, or likes being a killer and is comfortable living this way to be false. Because Shigaraki’s own body constantly rejects him. He feels a compuslive need to scratch and harm himself because his body cannot handle the stress of being violent. It’s a stress response because Shigaraki does not actually on some level want to be doing these things, and living in a constant state of stress and harm makes him more compelled to vent his stress by following his compulsions.

The compulsion he feels can sometimes get so bad that in childhood he was rolling around the floor, crying and frantically scratching his whole body. This is not what All for One said and him holding back his urge to kill, but rather Shigaraki responding to the stress. Shigaraki is seven and was put in front of two homeless people who were threatening to harm him and he already came from a physically abusive household. He’s in unbelievable stress with no healthy way of venting it, and thereofre he compulsively self harms.

GAME TALK

In general Shigaraki uses a lot of game talk. This is not so much a symptom of mental illness necessarily as it is a coping mechanism, but the goal is for Shigaraki to distance himself from reality. Basically it’s a mechanism for rgaining control because if you imagine life as just one big game where you are the player, you feel much more in control then some random kid who lost his family in a freak accident then got picked up by a super villain. Gamespeak is also a way of being deeply impersonal with the situation, in case it goes bad Shigaraki can say it’s just game over. It’s a layer of distance between him and reality, like I said, escapism to cope. His insistence of using game terminology for everything could also be seen as a “special interest” but once again that depends on your intepretation Shigaraki shows a whole cluster of symptoms that overlap with a lot of things.

HIGH ATTENTION TO DETAIL

Shigaraki in a fight where he and AIzawa are jumping around trying to kill each other, Shigaraki is able to notice a detail as minute as when the hair falls over Aizawa’s eyes it stops, and also that his quirk was weakening because the tiny seconds long windows were getting shorter and shorter.

This is an extremely small detail to notice. Hyper-sensitizing, or hyper-attention to detail is another sign of mental illness, because usually the brain filters out superfluous details like this because otherwise noticing everything in that fine detail would overwhelm the senses.

Immaturity

Shigaraki is completely unable to handle his negative emotions like a well-rounded adult. Though, I dislike how All Might and the others phrase it in this discussion because it is a pretty ablist description (downright sick in the head, a toddler’s sense of feeling like he can do whatever he wants). (the ablist part is that they’re using symptoms of his clear mental illness to dehumanize him.)

Regardless, Shigaraki of course does act like a man child, constantly talking about games, giving up easily, not having the patience to converse with others especially in situations he does not want to be in, throwing tantrums.

Children who are abused and neglected especially to the extreme extent that Shigaraki has, show long term developmental (that is term for the process of growing into a full adult) and behavioral problems. To the point where some studies have shown even the brain’s chemistry is permanently effected and the brain grows differently.

Children need a stable environment, and also positive role models for what adults act like to grow into full fledged adults, Shigaraki had neither of those. In fact he was also raised almost entirely outside of society except for the first five years of his life, so there is also no outside influence on his upbringing as well, which is why he is like a child, egocentric, unable to handle his emotions, because mentally he was never given the chance to develop past one.

ISOLATION

This is something that Shigaraki showed at the start of the series, but also has shown to develop past. At first he never left his room and from the several trash bags it’s quite obvious he spent long periods of time in there without taking care of himself or the environment around him in any significant way.

Shigaraki is no longer isolating as a result of having gotten closer to the league, he is basically available to them at all times and does not shut them off in any significant way. Which in this quick tangent we can also talk about symptoms Shigaraki does not have. Shigaraki is able to read a room pretty clearly, and knows how to hide himself in a crowd enough to keep Deku hostage with no trouble at all, and even leave the scene with Uraraka there without provoking her into attacking him or tipping her off what he was doing right away. Shigaraki is fairly competent at reading other people and he does have social skills so he’s not like someone who never sees the light of day or cannot interact with others and is clueless on how people think.

He’s also shown to be capable of making emotional connections with other people, and also of being considerate to those people’s needs. Which also shows that Shigaraki is capable of communication and also has an awareness of the feelings of other people and the ability to empathize, he is just choosy about who he makes connections with. He is definitely not someone unable to form an emotional connection with another person.

Shigaraki also shows a pretty flagrant disregard for all social norms, but that can be a result of being raised outside of society all of his life.

Shigaraki also likes to piss people off on purpose, almost like he is testing their boundaries and what he can get away with the same way a child playing around might.

Dissociation

We have seen Shigaraki experience Dissociation in both senses of the word. First we have seen him physically detach himself from his feelings, and his own body in the middle of a fight and still continue on in a fugue-like state.

He experiences dissociation in the sense of the word meaning periods of detachment to your body, drifting away from your consciousness, severe feelings of alienation from himself, extreme difficulty concentrating or holding focus to the moment, his perception of both time and the area around him slipping to levels that are borderline hallucinogenic.

Dissociation is a mental process where a person disconnects from their thoughts, feelings, memories or sense of identity.

Shigaraki also displays traits of what is more classicly known as Dissasociative identity disord. He has two names, and clearly considers the life of Shimura Tenko to be separate from Shigaraki Tomura for a long time at the start of the manga. It might not be full on DID, but he at least dissociated his memories away from himself long enough that he forgot all of them like those memories belonged to another person, not Shigaraki but rather Tenko.

Shigaraki also foils Twice pretty heavily who developed actual dissociatve identity disord. He even shares similiar symptoms of speaking to himself when he speaks to the hand of “father”. I am not saying he has full on DID like I said I’m not diagnoising just that he displays several symptoms of it. He also came from an abusive household at an incredibly young age, which is where DID most commonly manifests.

Shigaraki also shows signs of flashbacks when his memories return at inconvenient times during fights when direclty exposed to violence, or he experiences a trigger reminding him of his past. Flashbacks are a symptom that have the most in common with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

To answer your question on whether Shigaraki has a brain injury from when his father hit him with shears, there is evnidence suggesting he could have suffered brain damage, especially in the symptoms that he shares with Twice. However, at the same time Shigaraki also would have developed brain damage either way. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is something that permanently rewires the brain after exposure to trauma. His brain has suffered a traumatic injury regardless of whether or not it was the garden sheers that did him in.

Suicidal Ideation / Self Harm

Shigaraki in general wishes to not exist, or to destroy everything so it will not exist anymore. Even if it’s not a direct wish for suicide that symptom is called suicidal ideation. It’s intrusive and persistent thoughts of suicide. The likely cause is once again, Shigaraki is absolutely not comfortable living like this, and is constantly overwhelmed with stress and pain and is seeking an escape.

Shigaraki also actively seeks out harm. The same way he obsessively compulsively scratches, he puts himself into harmful situations like the extremely painful hellish surgery the doctor said he did not even have to endure if he did not want to. He feels compelled to harm himself, even when he is not fighting against someone else. He inflicts harm on himself becauseit is once again an unhealthy way to process his emotions. Oncce again all of these symptoms are there not to make Shigaraki out to be terrifying and incomprehensible because he is mentally ill, but rather to show he is a human being caught within the cycle of abuse with extremely unhealthy methods of coping with that fact.

#Anonymous #metasks #shigaraki tomura #mha meta #shigaraki meta #my hero academia #shimura tenko #tomura shigaraki

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sl-walker · 5 years ago

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Maybe you’ve done this before, but can you speak to how you came up with all the Blackbirds’ personalities and/or goals? Like what inspired them and such. I think we know the story behind a few, like Raze, but I’m curious about all of them!

Oh gosh. I probably have in pieces, but I’m totally down with answering it. XD Thank you for asking it, too! This’ll get long-ish, so under the cut it goes. But the easy answer is that all of them actually evolved very organically; aside a few notes, I didn’t really plan any of them. They just kind of happened in the best way. But for more detail, read on.

Shiv I stole from a short comic where he was actually fridged at the end on Orto Plutonia. His habit of writing to his dead brother charmed me and broke my heart, and his own end was just a big ole nope. Maul needed a sergeant, I wanted Shiv, so I grabbed him. Even in the short span we saw him in quasi canon, he displayed a dry sense of humor and a quick wit (and some skill at words), so I just built on that limited framework. He would have had to have been highly trained to be an advanced scout like that, he would have had to have been level headed, and beyond that, he really just grew into his own person organically. Him wrestling with losing his twin, him having to process that while coping with the burden of leadership, with a new squad on one side and a green CO on the other, all of that just kind of happened as the story went on.

Tally's definitely been my answer to the habit of people writing mean, snarky medics. I wanted one who was kind to the people in his care, who believed in consent and autonomy. Beyond the fact that the squad was built around Maul -- who would need someone like Tally if he was ever going to learn how to be a person -- it’s just enjoyable to defy the trope. Originally, he was going to be older, more along Husk’s relative age, but it was clear right off that he wasn’t. Of all of them, I think I most end up projecting my ‘politics’ onto him; his open cynicism, his belief in solidarity, his subversiveness and distrust of the establishment. But Tally, no joke, grabs the reins every single time I write his narrative. All of the Blackbirds feel really real when I write them, but he’s the one who often surprises me. I don’t so much think I came up with him as that he ended up with some part of me and then went on to totally do his own damn thing. And if that sounds crazy, I’d love to see someone else try writing him organically and find a different result. LOL! He’s just a really strong personality.

Smarty is a total geek, except not. Because unlike the stereotypical geek portrayal of like, the 1980s, he had no trouble getting laid. He wears graffiti on his battlefield armor. He’s skinnier and softer looking than most of the others, but he’s also kinda fearless and badass. He’s apt to go on and on, but he’s also sharp as hell. I loved the idea of a clone who self-studied everything because 1.) he was intensely bored on Kamino, and 2.) because he has a genuine, enthusiastic passion for learning. Like-- honestly, most of the Blackbirds are subversive not just in narrative, but also outside of it, because defying tropes is a lot of fun, narratively.

Castle’s personality is partly because I love engineers. Scotty from Star Trek is my hero, has been my whole life, and Castle is kind of a sideways homage to him. His skill and talent at building or repairing things, his steadfastness, but also his occasional struggles understanding what’s going on with people internally speaking. Scotty’s his own thing entirely -- don’t even get me started there, the Arc of the Wolf can be googled -- but Castle shares some traits with him. Castle is also a bit more like the clones we see portrayed in canon, which makes him an interesting perspective in this group of odds, ends and eccentricities.

Husk also serves that; of all of them, he is in the mold of Rex and Cody. I wanted someone who was older and had been around for damn ever, who got the full load of indoctrination, both Mando and Kaminoan, and who would offer a more ‘traditional soldier’ perspective on things. One thing is absolutely sure, though, is that I never, ever wrote Husker to be villainized because of that. His view of things -- though it’s evolving now thanks to experience and kinship -- has always been just as legitimate a take as the other Blackbirds and I never wanted him to be portrayed in a bad light because of it. I also wanted him to be 501st originally because that would be an interesting bridge between Skywalker and the Blackbirds, and an interesting conflict Husk would have to work through. His personality kinda grew around all that; his fierce love and loyalty to his brothers, his unique place trying to balance who he was raised to be while being surrounded by the other, more subversive Blackbirds. (He was named in homage to Bill Adama in BSG, too.)

Your boy Misty is kind of the most normal of everyone, honestly. He’s the one who’s managed to not be traumatized by war, or by their upbringing, or by anything else. He’s actually incredibly resilient in that regard. It’s not that he doesn’t feel things deeply, but he seems to have kept from letting those get hooks into his brain, and that’s no small feat in their galaxy. His genuine love of the water was the first thing I knew about him, and it’s remained kind of a constant in how his personality develops. His ability to be a fair leader when put to it, but not enjoying the role, for example; his absolute confidence when he is in charge of something like a water rescue. I’m really looking forward to doing more with him in Year Two and highlighting just how good a specialist he is in that, as well.

Brody was always going to be a slicer, but like the others, his personality just happened over time. I knew he’d be a bit cynical because he already has more exposure to the wider galaxy than the others, but I didn’t anticipate a lot of the nuances. Like his idealism finally getting stoked by Radio Anarchy. That was a lot of fun to see, and brought home that he, too, is a young guy and not immune to hope. The Llanic arc was a big one for Brody, not only in terms of development, but in terms of his entire life after this. His mischief at the Viable ad was also a Moment(tm), but if you asked me what his actual defining arc would be, it’d be Llanic, and it happened kinda on its own.

Raze, as I’ve said, ended up being homage to my son; the ADHD, also the introduction of meds and how those made his life easier, also his cuddly nature and kindness and generosity. His artistic lean, however, is in homage to my oldest kid. I knew he’d be kind of distractable, never on time to meetings, hyper competent in his field, always down for a hair-pet and someone to snuggle up to, and oddly enough, Raze is the one who doesn’t surprise me often. LOL! I guess because I live with his inspiration. His being ace just-- was. I didn’t intend it, but it happened; when I was writing the camping fluff back in the day and Tango was lamenting, Raze was just like, “Nah, not interested.’ He’s just a wonderful, positive presence, and while he’s having an awful time with survivor guilt right now, he’s still wonderful. And I honestly don’t know of anyone who doesn’t love him.

Tango ended up being one of the most complex of the Blackbirds! Like, there is part of him that is definitely me -- “HDU write about this person I love inaccurately, I’ll just have to do it better than you!!!” -- but most of him is actually not. Like-- his actually-pretty-inaccurate crush on Maul. LOL! He loves the idea of being in a relationship with Maul, but doesn’t quite grasp what that would entail realistically? The crush and literally everything else about Tango happened in the course of the story. I knew early about his fanfic leanings, but not how he would get there; I knew about his superstitious streak, but not that he would end up slowly losing it piece by piece in favor of something he can control, namely his writing. His feelings about Rabbit and what happened to Rabbit are more added layers to his complexity. And while Raze is the teras kasi protege, it’s actually Tango who’s probably a bit more Force sensitive than the norm. Nothing to Jedi levels, but there’s something there. His future’s going to be an interesting one. (And Etah and Adao will be a running thread through the whole series.)

Rabbit was always going to be Rabbit. I knew his name and Rancor’s before I even wrote the first chapter. And I knew he wasn’t going to see the end of Year One. I knew that he and his twin were both brand spanking new, and would therefore have to develop on their own, over time, and they did. I had no real personality traits in mind for either, beyond their desperate attachment (and in fairness, co-dependency) with one another. So, he happened. And I wanted him to be a person, even knowing his fate. I didn’t want him to be cannon fodder. I didn’t want the audience to suspect what would eventually happen. And when the time came, it was absolutely, critically important that when I wrote his end, I was sobbing on my keyboard. I had to love him, and to do that, I had to write him well. (And I cried so hard I could barely type, then I cried for hours after, too.)

Rancor is the least developed, but that was by design? I still don’t know him as well as the others. I know he’s Rabbit’s twin and some things about him now, as an individual, but Rancor himself has always been defined by his proximity to his twin. He’s never thought for a second to step out into his own so far as to lose sight of Rabbit, and so he hasn’t. We get hints of it -- his vote on Bravo-984, his punching a clone in the teeth at the climax of that training mission, his possessiveness and anxiety, his basic quiet competence when put to it -- but it’s only really going to be over time that he gets to figure out who he is. He’s always going to be Rabbit’s twin, but now he has no real choice about becoming his own person, and we’ll see how that goes.

Thank you again for the ask! I hope these answers work.

#shiv #tally #castle #husker #brody #smarty #misty #tango #raze #rabbit #rancor #blackbirds: year one #witness me #littlekmac

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justandersons · 6 years ago

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paragraph 011 - wellington prep

WHO: Alexander Smythe and Blaine Anderson

NOTES: Blaine and Alex attend a small gathering with some of Alex’s friends. Blaine drinks a little too much and makes a new friend, and Alex decides to use Blaine in a way he hasn’t before.

Blaine Anderson

Tears blurred his vision as he made his way home. His fingers played with the charm on his collar. It seemed strange, to bump into him in all of Paris. But then, he supposed the man knew who Blaine was and made a point of finding him, if only to make those comments. Because one of Alex’s past hook ups had found him and made it his mission to make Blaine uncomfortable. He’d asked if Alex still liked doing certain things in the bedroom and if he still liked being called ‘Daddy’. It’d made Blaine feel nauseous and he’d escaped quickly.

To his disappointment, Alex was already home when he arrived. Usually Blaine would put his things away and kneel beside his Master, greeting him lovingly and awaiting orders. But today, he stormed past him and into their bedroom. Blaine threw his bag down and kicked his shoes off angrily before climbing onto the bed and curling up, his back to the door as his tears threatened to fall.

Alexander Smythe

He didn’t even get to complete his greeting before Blaine was storming past him. He’d come home in a bad mood a time or two before but he’d still followed his routine. They’d always managed to talk about it. He didn’t follow him immediately; he put it down to Blaine needing a few minutes to get himself under control before he came out. He was entitled to that.

Fifteen minutes went by and Alex could hear no sign of Blaine moving in the bedroom. He got to his feet, closed down his laptop and went to see him. ‘So there I was, watching the clock waiting for my boy to come home and what do you know, he storms right by me?’ He remarked, leaning against the door frame. He looked over Blaine’s form and his chest tightened a little. There was nothing worse than seeing him so upset. ‘You wanna come here and tell me what’s going on?’ He prompted.

Blaine Anderson

In the time that he was alone, his tears fell and Blaine did nothing to stop them. He knew it was stupid. Alex loved him. But he still felt sick and hurt. Deep down Blaine knew it wasn’t Alex’s fault but it didn’t stop him from feeling so upset. All of his previous experiences had been unwanted. But Alex? Alex could do whatever he pleased. Blaine closed his eyes and just let his tears come.

He stayed like that until he heard the door opening, wiping his tears when he heard Alex come into the room and speak. Blaine didn’t respond to his first comment, choosing instead to simply ignore him. But the second one had him making a choked sound, almost like a bitter laugh.

“No,” he said simply, no titles, names, nothing. Just the plain and simple word.

Alexander Smythe

In that moment he was glad Blaine wasn’t looking at him because his face very obviously registered his surprise. The lack of a title was entirely uncommon; Blaine never failed to use it. The only time he didn’t was when he needed reassurance that Blaine wanted to be with him or when he asked him to say his name during sex.

He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I might have made that sound like a question but it really wasn’t one. I want you kneeling and I want you telling me what’s got you so upset immediately little one.’ He instructed, his tone taking on a harder edge.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine closed his eyes when he felt the bed sink with Alex’s weight and curled in on himself even tighter. His heart ached and he couldn’t look up at his Master. He couldn’t cope with it. And the order had his stomach clenching as his body wanted to obey. It was in his nature.

But Blaine ignored it.

“I said no,” Blaine said stubbornly, still not looking at Alex. And then he stood, moving as far away from his Master as he could, arms folded tightly over his chest. “As long as I’m still available to bend over for you, why do you care? You get to fuck me, why should you give a shit if I’m upset?”

Alexander Smythe

Growing up, he’d prided himself on being able to conceal his emotions. Time with Blaine had caused him to lose that skill because they both agreed honesty about what they were thinking and feeling was incredibly important. The hurt at Blaine’s words flashed across his face before he managed to bring himself back to the moment at hand.

‘I give a shit about why you’re upset because I love you.’ He replied easily. He didn’t move to follow him; just turned his body towards him. A year ago, this kind of behaviour might have made him lose his temper but he’d long worked past that. ‘Honestly, you could tell me you had come to the conclusion that you never wanted to have sex again, and I’d still love you, I’d still want to know why you were upset.’ He pointed out. Undoubtably, his boy was heading towards a punishment but there wouldn’t be much point in forcing it. That wouldn’t teach him anything. ‘So again, Blaine Smythe, what’s going on?’

Blaine Anderson

“Maybe I don’t want to have sex with you ever again,” Blaine snapped, stepping further back from him. “What’s going on? I don’t want to just be another notch on your bedpost, that’s what’s going on. Am I just a place holder? Do you even care?”

The tears fell once more but this time Blaine made no effort to wipe them. He sank to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees and let out a small sob. “I met Laurent,” Blaine said harshly, not looking up at Alex. “You know, the guy you used to call ‘little one’. He had a lot to say about the stuff you used to do together. A regular hook up, right? Came from a horrible family and you wanted to make him see that not everyone was like that, apparently. And we even look the same. I’m stupid for thinking I was special. I’m just another guy in your long list of conquests.”

Alexander Smythe

He crossed his arms over his chest and he moved to stand in front of Blaine. ‘I’m not going to apologise to you for having a past. I’m not going to apologise for being a decent person to someone else who had a hard upbringing.’ He said. It was harder to remain calm now. He understood jealousy, and in the past when Blaine had felt it, he’d delighted in the opportunity to remind Blaine just how much he was loved.

He crouched down in front of Blaine and reached out to take his chin, forcing him to look up. ‘If you think for a second, that all you are to me is another in a long list of partners, then I’ve been doing something incredibly wrong in all our time together. I don’t know what Laurent said to you but frankly, I’m disappointed it was enough to erase everything that’s happened between us.’

He released his chin and stood to his feet. ‘For the record, when I knew Laurent, he bleached his hair.’ He remarked. ‘I suspect you’re not actually going to hear anything I say so I’m going to leave you here to think. When you’re ready, come and find me in the living room.’

Blaine Anderson

Blaine didn't look up at Alex. When he felt the hand on his chin, he moved to push it away angrily, glaring up at him. But Alex's grip was strong and all he could do was scowl. He wasn't sure what had upset him the most, Laurent's comments or the fact they looked similar. When his chin was released again, he didn't bow his head like he usually would. Instead, he kept it raised stubbornly, glaring at Alex as he left the bedroom.

He knew he was being a brat. Alex loved him, hadn't he proved that time and time again? Blaine knew he wasn't just another conquest, just another hook up and the Master was in love with him so his words were particularly harsh. But he couldn't stop the overwhelming feeling of jealousy and bitterness. What if Alex had only sought him out because he looked like Laurent? What if that'd been the initial reason they started talking, and the feelings came after? Blaine felt sick at the thought.

After what felt like an age, he pushed himself to his feet. He knew he had to face Alex, even if he didn't want to. And he knew he'd be punished for his behaviour, severely too. Blaine didn't care. He made his way through to the living room and stood there, anger and hurt still balled up in his tiny frame, watching Alex and waiting for him to speak.

Alexander Smythe

Truthfully, he didn't know how he was supposed to respond to this. He didn't know if he should be punishing him. He couldn't blame him for being jealous but then, Blaine should have known better than to react the way he did. He should have known better than to throw everything they'd been through together aside. Despite coming to the conclusion that punishing him absolutely was the right thing to do, he wasn't quite sure how to do it. He wasn't sure if pain was the appropriate response.

His demeanour didn't seem to have changed when he finally joined him. That much was clear from the fact he didn't kneel, didn't offer any apologies. He had an idea in mind and he knew it was likely one that was going to cause Blaine to break, it was going to make him cry and he wasn't completely sure it was the right move but he thought it might be the thing to remind Blaine that his words have power. 'Clothes are a privilege and you've lost that privilege.' he began, looking over him with a cool glare. 'Take them off and come stand in front of me.' he instructed, as he produced a key from his pocket. The key to Blaine's cage.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine met Alex's eyes, expression unchanging. He was itching to obey, wanted to kneel before Alex and just beg him for forgiveness. But he was stubborn. And he was hurting. Did he love Alex? Unconditionally. He wanted to curl up and lose himself in the other man, take comfort in the fact that he'd claimed him, Blaine, and not Laurent. But the jealousy was still there, clenching and twisting around Blaine's heart so painfully he wanted to cry.

Usually when Blaine stripped for his Master, he'd fold his clothes neatly before coming before him on his knees, waiting for his next order. That didn't happen this time. Instead, Blaine simply pulled his clothes off and left them where they fell, uncaring. He watched him take the key from his pocket but kept his expression blank, standing in front of Alex with his arms folded, glaring up at him.

Alexander Smythe

If he weren’t so hurt, so angry, he might have quirked a smile at the small ways his boy tried to show his defiance. He took the cage in one hand and with deft fingers, turned the key and unlocked it. ‘There.’ He explained. ‘I would tell you you no longer have to wear your collar but society requires that. Let me be clear, I’m not revoking my claim on you because whether you believe it or not, whether you love me or not, I love you. I promised you I’d take care of you for the rest of our lives and I will.’ He explained. ‘The charm, however, that’s a specific sign of my ownership and since you obviously don’t want that, I’ll take that too.’ He decided. He could feel his own heart catch in his throat as he reached for his collar to remove the charm.

‘Your words have power Blaine and today you’ve chosen to use them to tell me you don’t want to be another one of my lovers. You’ve chosen to tell me that everything I’ve done, everything we’ve been through means nothing in the face of you meeting a former lover. You’ve chosen to assert the fact you’re not special in spite of everything. Therefore, you won’t be special.’ He continued. ‘There’s a pile of fresh sheets in the spare bedroom; you can go make up the bed. Then I want you to go to our bedroom and start packing my things. I will be moving out.’

Blaine Anderson

Whatever Blaine had been expecting, it wasn't that. But he said nothing as the cage was removed and shifted slightly, watching. But then Alex's hand came up to remove the charm from his collar and Blaine couldn't help it. He gave a quiet, choked sob as it was removed, shaking his head ever so slightly. But he didn't stop him. Blaine felt sick; surely this wasn't happening. He'd wake up any moment and this would just be a nightmare. Alex really was taking the charm from his collar? He was no longer... his? Blaine felt as though his worst fears had been confirmed, that Alex had never really wanted him to begin with. But still, he said nothing.

Blaine turned on his heel to make his way to the spare bedroom, making the bed up quickly and swallowing the bile that had risen. They were going to sleep in separate beds? Blaine couldn't remember the last time they'd done that. Probably when he was in hospital after Braxton had hurt him. But even then, they'd been in the same room, Alex there to comfort him.

Despite it being a direct order, Blaine couldn't bring himself to go into their bedroom. Instead, he sank to the floor, covered his face with his hands and began to sob quietly, his chest aching. Alex was leaving. He was really planning on moving out and Blaine would be left alone, broken.

Alexander Smythe

The noise Blaine made when he took the charm away told him he was doing the wrong thing. Or maybe this kind of reaction was what he needed. He wasn’t angry about Blaine being jealous; he wasn’t even that angry anymore about Blaine having stormed past him. He was hurt. Blaine’s words had hurt him. Maybe it wasn’t fair that he felt hurt. He knew Blaine’s life had been difficult before him and he’d always done his best to make allowances for him but it had been over a year. Knowing he was loved felt like it should be a very basic piece of knowledge.

Blaine hadn’t emerged from the spare bedroom and so he decided to join him. The sight broke his already cracking heart. ‘The sheets are on the bed. Why haven’t you gone to start packing?’ He knew why. This was the reaction he’d anticipated but seeing it had him wondering if it was really fair to be punishing him in a way Blaine wasn’t aware of.

Blaine Anderson

He didn't hear Alex join him in the spare bedroom. He was curled in a tight ball, as though to look as small as possible, face buried in his hands. But then he heard the words and jerked his head upward in surprise. He stubbornly wiped the tears, glaring up at Alex. He wanted to know why he hadn't started packing? Because he was ready to throw their life away. Clearly Blaine loved Alex more than Alex loved him.

"I'm not packing your things," Blaine was surprised at how level his voice was when he spoke, especially when disobeying a direct order. "I'll help you gather what you need if that's what you want. But I'm not packing your bags for you. You may be ready to throw me away, discard me like I'm something you've just used up, but I'm not prepared to help you do it."

Alexander Smythe

‘Well, you’ve got this all wrong.’ Alexander replied, fighting to keep his tone causal. He crossed his arms over his chest, and shrugged his shoulders. ‘This isn’t me throwing you away Blaine. This is me accepting that you’re throwing me away.’ He clarified. ‘Take a moment to think, you’re the one who stormed in here this afternoon and ignored me. You’re the one who refused to talk to me, who didn’t believe I love you.’ He reminded him. ‘I’ve spent more than a year fighting for you, trying to prove that I love you, that I want you, that I need you. And I don’t want to give up that fight but if you can believe someone else, someone so unimportant to my life now that I didn’t tell you about them, I can only assume that you don’t want to fight anymore.’

His instincts were torn; half of him wanted to take Blaine in his arms and the other half of him needed to wait until Blaine came to him. ‘I’ve always tried to tell you your words have power. That what you say to me matters. It matters when a scene is too much for you, when you want to pursue music, when you tell me you want to be with me. And it matters when you say you don’t want to sleep with me. It matters when you tell me you’re not special. It matters when you hurt me.’

Blaine Anderson

"I'm not packing your things for you," Blaine said again, voice louder than before. He hated this, hated fighting with Alex and he curled in tighter on himself, hiding his face once more. He couldn't stop the choked sobs escaping him, arms wrapped around his knees as though physically holding himself together. He felt so lost without his Master to hold him and Blaine knew he wouldn't cope if Alex really did move out. It was like his anger vanished and Blaine was broken. He uncurled himself and moved to kneel in front of Alex, at his feet, head low and his arms wrapping around his legs, begging him.

"Please don't move out," he whimpered, unable to face him. "Please. You can make me sleep in here, you can never touch me or speak to me again, you can do anything. But please don't leave me, Sir. I never want to hurt you and I'm sorry. I l-love you. Please, please don't go."

Alexander Smythe

He never wanted to prompt this kind of reaction from Blaine. He never wanted to be the reason he sobbed, or spoke the way he was. This had been the reaction he suspected but now that he had it, he felt unsure as to why he’d wanted it in the first place. With a light touch, he brushed his fingers against Blaine’s hair and down his neck. ‘I’m not leaving you Blaine. I told you, I wasn’t going to revoke my claim. I promised I would look after you and I will.’ He repeated.

He did have a point to everything he was doing, everything he was saying. He needed Blaine to understand that the thing between them was more than just loving one another. That it had never just been about rescuing him; because there were a lot of people he could have rescued. ‘I will be right here when you need me.’ He assured him. ‘I love you too Blaine but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I gave you an instruction and that I would like you to follow it.’

Blaine Anderson

For a moment, he thought things would be okay. Alex was brushing his fingers through his curls and his tone was softer. Blaine couldn't help but sob even harder, closing his eyes at the familiar gentle touches. But then Alex gave Blaine the instruction again. He still wanted him to pack his bags and he gave a choked, strangled noise, more tears rolling down his cheeks. But this time, Blaine obeyed.

He got to his feet shakily, looking up at Alex before quickly looking away. It was difficult, making his way into their bedroom and reaching for the suitcase. Hands trembled as he began to pack Alex's clothes neatly, though he was sure a few tears landed on the clothing. Blaine made sure to include the framed photograph of the two of them in front of the Eiffel Tower in the suitcase, wanting to make sure Alex had it. Blaine closed the suitcase and fell to his knees again, clutching at it as he cried, as though it would make Alex change his mind about leaving.

Alexander Smythe

All he could do was watch him. He watched as he sorted through his clothes; separating where they’d become interwoven with his own and folding them into the case. The way he so carefully packed his favourite photograph of them made his heart ache but he watched him do it and he said nothing to stop him. He watched him crumple when he was done but he still didn’t say anything. He moved towards him and gently unwound his hands from the case. ‘Good boy.’ He said softly. ‘I want you to put some clothes on; something loose fitting and comfortable. I’ll give you space for a few minutes and then I want you to come back into the spare room to help me unpack.’

Blaine Anderson

Blaine let out a harsh sob when his hands were removed from the case, almost scrambling to take it back, to stop Alex from picking it up and leaving with it. The praise felt wrong because Alex was praising him for doing something that was going to break him. It'd kill him, not being with his Master and he could only sob even harder. Blaine barely heard the order but obeyed anyway; his body moved without him thinking about it and he pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt, something comfortable, and wiped his eyes.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and hated it, hated how the collar looked without the charm. His hand came up to it, to the empty space where the charm should be and his bottom lip trembled. But this was his fault, now he had to deal with it. After a moment, Blaine made his way into the spare bedroom, unsure as to why they were there, and got to his knees, waiting for Alex to give him his orders.

Alexander Smythe

‘I don’t want you to kneel little one. I want you to come and sit beside me. I need to talk to you.’ He explained. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and he patted the space in front of him to indicate where he wanted Blaine to sit. His suitcase remained unopened at the foot of the bed.

He waited until Blaine had done what he was told before he reached out to take his hand. He squeezed it tightly. ‘I want you to tell me what you’re thinking and feeling right now. Are you hurting?’

Blaine Anderson

The nickname had him wincing slightly. But he got to his feet and sat in front of Alex, legs crossed beneath him, playing with the ties on his sweatpants nervously. But then Alex had taken his hand and Blaine jumped slightly, looking up at him and worrying his bottom lip through his teeth.

"I don't know, Master," he said in a tiny voice, using their formal title. He wasn't sure why, it just felt like the right thing to do. "I'm... not hurting physically," he said slowly, though he knew Alex had already known. "I'm sorry... I just... I got really jealous. And Laurent was saying some really ugly things, about me and about the two of you. And h-how he used to call you 'Daddy', and you called him 'little one'. And... And how your... your father had made it known that I was a terrible slave, and everyone knew." Blaine fell silent, his eyes looking down at their hands. "I'm sorry, Master. I'm so sorry. P-Please, please don't leave."

Alexander Smythe

Gently, Alex brought Blaine’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. ‘The time to tell me all that was when you first came through the door. Or when I came into our bedroom to ask what was wrong with you.’ He explained. ‘You know I’ve had a lot of lovers; I can’t tell you about them all because so many of them were unimportant. Laurent is one of them. I’m not going to tell you lies about him; he did call me Daddy when we slept together and he came from a home much like my own, like yours. We were friends as children and he was terrified he was going to be marked as a slave. His Father was cruel, like so many Fathers are and I think he’d have been treated the way you were. He was my friend so I promised him if that happened that I would protect him. When he was marked as a Master, I was overjoyed for him. I thought he’d still feel the same way. He didn’t. He enjoyed power, like I do but he let it warp him. Or maybe he became the person he always was on the inside. Whatever happened, he stopped being someone I associated with.’ He played with Blaine’s fingers.

‘I never called him little one. You’re the only person I’ve ever called that. Partially because you’re so much smaller than me. I call you that because to me it sounds caring, loving. He called me Daddy because it was a power rush. I didn’t have a special name I called him. When you call me Daddy, it feels different.’ He broke off to let out a chuckle. ‘And honestly I never thought I would delve this much into it. But you call me that not just to turn me on. You use it when you feel at your most vulnerable. When you need me to take care of you.’ He explained, trying to summarise his thoughts.

‘This thing between you and I Blaine; it’s about more than rescuing you. It’s about more than just loving you. You’re part of me. And I think I’m the same for you. You were a whole person before you met me, albeit a little broken. So I don’t think I completed you and I don’t think you completed me. But you put solid ground under my feet. You make me feel brave. You give me direction.’ He confided, lacing their fingers together perfectly. ‘My Father thinks you’re a terrible slave and that I’m a poor excuse for a Master who fled to a freer country. But it doesn’t matter what he thinks. He doesn’t matter.’

Blaine Anderson

Blaine’s bottom lip was still trembling and he looked up at Alex as he spoke. His stomach was twisting uncomfortably at the explanation. Alex playing with his fingers was certainly calming him down and he cling onto every word. Alex really hadn’t called the other man little one? Then why had he said it? Did he just want to hurt Blaine?

“I’m sorry,” Blaine whispered again, another tear leaving him and rolling silently down his cheek. “I’m so sorry... he was so horrible and the things he was saying... about how you deserved more than me, that I should just bend over n-now and let him take me, like... like I’d let my brother... I don’t know h-how he knew... He t-told me I deserved to be r-raped again...” Blaine trailed off, shifting in his position so he was a fraction closer to Alex. “P-Please, Master. Please don’t leave. You can punish me how you want but please... please don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone... I want to be yours, your boy. G-God, I’m so sorry.”

Alexander Smythe

'I'm never going to leave you Blaine. I never was going to leave you.' he assured him. 'This was me punishing you. I wanted to remind you that your words have power; all words have power.' he pointed out, 'but only if you let them. You made bad choices today; you chose to let Laurent's words have power over mine and you chose not to give power to your words when you came home. I appreciate that sometimes it's difficult for you and that's why I always try to give you multiple opportunities. But I can't force you to talk. The same way I wouldn't force you over my knee or force you to yours. You're my boy and what we share is your choice.' He withdrew his hand so he could open his arms to invite Blaine onto his lap.

'I'm sorry if you think I forced or tricked you into this. This wasn't a problem I thought a spanking would solve. This was something I needed you to feel, to understand. I know you get stuck in your head sometimes, and I know you have a lot to work through. I'm so proud of everything you've done little one. You have to know that; you make me so incredibly proud. I talk about you all the time. I know that and I feel that, but to hear you talk about me as though you're nothing to me, as though the fact that I've stood up to ever authority figure in my life for you -- That hurts Blaine.'

He caught his chin and tilted his head up so he could catch his lips in a soft kiss. 'You and I -- We're building a life together Blaine. We're making a home. I need you to hold that in your mind because Laurent isn't the last lover you're going to run into. He's not going to be the only person in my Father's circle who doesn't like you or us. You and I are a team; we're together, regardless of who likes it.' he said firmly, holding his gaze. 'And my plan is for us to unpack my stuff and reorganise it in our bedroom so you don't forget that.'

Blaine Anderson

His brow was furrowed as he thought about the response. He was never going to leave? But what about the packing, and the charm? Blaine said nothing though, listening to Alex talk. He whimpered in protest when he pulled his hand away but then he realised what he was doing and climbed into Alex's lap, wrapping his arms around him and cuddling in close. Blaine couldn't stop his tears and held his Master tightly, as though unable to believe he wasn't going anywhere. If he let go, maybe Alex would change his mind. And so he made sure his grip was unyielding.

"B-But what about my charm, Master?" Blaine asked as soon as their lips were parted. "You... You t-took away my charm and... And my cage. I don't feel owned... I don't feel special. I feel like nothing," he whispered, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. "I'm really sorry, Sir. I didn't... I never want to hurt you and I'm so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?" Blaine bit his lip, looking down at the suitcase and nodding slowly, uncertainly. "Are we going to rearrange our bedroom?"

Alexander Smythe

‘Your charm will go back on once our room is back in order. You’re going to go without your cage for the next few days.’ He responded, finally feeling like he was able to properly thread his fingers though Blaine’s hair. ‘Under no circumstances are you allowed to cum or touch yourself. If you wake up hard, you can take a cold shower or you can use an ice pack to cool down. I want this to serve as a more lasting reminder of today. You’re mine because I choose you and because you choose me. You’re going to choose to obey me without the assistance of a cage.’ He explained.

‘Tonight isn’t going to be about you making anything up to me. The only thing that you can do to do that is to keep working on yourself, keep talking. Tonight is going to be about you and I working together; and me doing anything I can to reassure you that you belong to me, that I want you and only you to wear my collar.’ He smiled, leaning in to kiss him a second time.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine nodded to show he understood. His hand hovered over his collar, still hating how empty it felt without anything there. But he didn't say anything more about the subject. The hands in his curls had him closing his eyes for a moment, a content sigh escaping him. He regretted his actions, regretted lashing out at Alex the way he had. But he was only human and he couldn't be perfect all the time. Alex knew that.

"Okay," he said softly, smiling against his lips when they kissed, bringing his hand up to cup his face delicately. "Do... Do you want to go and sort out room out, Sir? I don't mind unpacking everything and putting it all away for you." Blaine shifted a little closer to Alex, so he was more on his lap and hid his face in the crook of his neck, pressing himself closer to him. "I love you. I'm so sorry for the way I acted."

Alexander Smythe

‘I love you too. Always Blaine.’ He echoed the sentiment and tightened his arms around his waist. ‘I forgive you, for the things you said, for the way you acted. He breathed in deeply; his nose filling with a scent that was decidedly Blaine. ‘You make this very difficult sometimes.’ He breathed. ‘Not the being together part. The following through on punishments. Because honestly all I want to do right now is kiss you, because I don’t want you to spend another second like you aren’t owned and loved. But it wouldn’t be fair to do that knowing how much you want your charm, and I won’t return that until we put our room right.’

He gave his rear a light pat. ‘You’re not doing it by yourself because that defeats the point of it. We’re doing it together because we’re in all of this together. This is just a very small representation of the life we’re creating, of one of the more obvious ways our beings and our belongings intertwine.’

Blaine Anderson

Hearing that Alex forgave him brought Blaine a sense of relief he hadn't known he needed. It was like his body relaxed; he was no longer tense and he sagged a little in Alex's arms, sighing quietly. Being here, in his arms like this, knowing he was forgiven? That was all Blaine needed. The slight smack to his ass had him grinning a little and he slowly pulled back so he could see Alex's face. Blaine brought a hand up, tracing the shape of his lips delicately before nodding.

"A new life together," he said in a soft, almost dreamy voice before pulling himself away completely and getting to his feet, helping Alex do so. "After we do that, can we have lots of cuddles? I feel like I never want to let you go after today."

Alexander Smythe

‘I mean cuddles could be on the table but I think you picked those pants knowing how much I like you in sweats so I might not be in the middle for cuddling when we’re done.’ He teased. Teasing was normal and he wanted them to get back to normal. He knew Blaine hated to be anything less than perfect and that accepting making mistakes wouldn’t make Alexander hate or hurt him was sometimes an uphill battle; accepting his apology and immediately moving on seemed like the best way to reassure him they really were okay.

He laced their fingers together and picked up the suitcase with his other hand; leading his boy through to the bedroom they shared. ‘We should redecorate in here shouldn’t we?’ He asked, tossing the case on the bed. ‘The place was mostly kitted out when we moved in and I know we’ve added touches of ourselves but this space really should be all us.’ He mused, mind already running with all the things he wanted.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine's cheeks flushed a little at the words and he grinned up at Alex, shifting a little. "That wasn't my intention, Sir, but you know I have absolutely no issue with what you would be in the mood for," he said before following Alex through to the bedroom. Their bedroom. The thought of redecorating had Blaine's eyes lighting up and he immediately turned to Alex, practically bouncing on his feet.

"Yes, Sir, we should redecorate!" His excitement was plain to see and he couldn't stop himself from grinning. "I love looking through interior design websites as it is, so I'd love to help redecorate our bedroom! We can have something really cute and cosy. Oh, and fairy lights! We need string lights to make it even more cosy. This is our safe space and we should make it look amazing!"

Alexander Smythe

He wrapped his arms around Blaine’s waist and pulled his back against his chest so he could growl a whisper against his ear. ‘I think it absolutely was your intention my pretty tease.’ He nipped at his love playfully as though to punctuate the sentence.

He kept him close as he babbled excitedly about what he planned to do. ‘Don’t forget this is also the place I spank you til you’re bruised and fuck your mouth until you’re choking. I’m not sure cute and cosy is quite the right theme.’ He laughed, shaking his head fondly.

Blaine Anderson

"Yes, I know that we do that here as well, but it should definitely be cosy! Just imagine coming home after a long day and seeing how sweet and comfortable our bedroom looks. I'm going to make a Pinterest board and we're going to have the best room ever, Sir! And you can still spank me until I'm bruised and choke me with your cock, it'll just be even more our room than it is now!"

Blaine grinned at Alex and took the suitcase from him, opening it and setting the photo of the two of them back on the bedside table carefully, staring at it for a moment before looking away. He slowly began to put Alex's clothes away, biting his lip and smiling to himself at the thought of just how much he loved his Master, carefully setting his shirts on hangers and putting them next to his own in the wardrobe.

Alexander Smythe

He worked alongside Blaine; sneaking his hands to touch him in some way at every presented opportunity. Somehow Blaine always managed to quiet his mind, make him feel calm and after the day he’d had followed by such an intense afternoon, he definitely needed that comfort. He wondered if this was enough aftercare for Blaine, if the point he was trying to make was really sinking in but before he could really start to overthink, he forced himself back into the moment.

He was paying particular attention to the way they moved together and he noticed for the first time just how fluid they were. On more than one occasion he caught Blaine looking at him when he turned his head to check on him. More than words, that reminded him of how much Blaine cared, how much he loved him. When the suitcase was empty, he slid it back onto the top shelf and turned to give Blaine a smile. ‘I feel like I’m making you do a lot of undressing and redressing.’ He laughed. ‘You can lose those clothes now and come kneel in front of me.’

Blaine Anderson

It didn't take long for them to sort Alex's belongings and in no time at all, the suitcase was being put away again. The words had him smiling but Blaine was taking his clothes off quickly, folding them and putting them aside before dropping to his knees in front of his Master, head tilted upwards so he could watch him.

"You know I don't mind getting undressed for you, Sir," he said with a grin, sitting up a little straighter. "Especially as I spend most of my time at home naked anyway. It's always flattering to know this is how you like me best."

Alexander Smythe

‘Giving you this is my choice. It’s not something I have to do Blaine. If you were just a boy I wanted to save, I would have given you a collar and a bed to sleep in. I wouldn’t have punched that bastard in the nose. I wouldn’t have stood up to your Dad, to mine. I want you to try to hold that in your mind. Let this anchor you when the outside world starts putting pressure on our bubble.’ He could get rambly and flowery with his language; he knew it and he stopped himself before he could get any more verbose. He returned the charm to Blaine’s collar and felt his shoulders lighten. He looked normal again, everything felt as it should be.

Blaine Anderson

Suddenly the teasing was gone and Alex had the charm in his hands again. He swallowed as he listened to him, nodding obediently. He'd known, deep down, that he was more than just a hook up, more than someone who needed saving. They loved each other and Blaine let his jealousy get the better of him. But then the charm was on his collar again, resting at the base of his throat, and Blaine relaxed, his hand coming up to touch it immediately. "Thank you, Master," he said softy, smiling up at him. "Thank you. I'll... I'll do my best to remember that. I know things aren't always easy and sometimes I forget... But I promise to try. I love you."

Alexander Smythe

‘I love you too.’ He smiled, cupping Blaine’s cheeks between his hands and leaning down to kiss him. ‘And I know what happened today with Laurent hurt you. I understand if that’s not a name you want to call me for a while or at all. I won’t hold that against you sweetheart.’

He reached to take his hands and drew him to his feet. ‘Come on, I definitely promised you cuddles and our bed is decidedly empty.’ He informed him.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine couldn't help but smile against Alex's lips and he leaned a little closer, not wanting to let go. But then they were apart and Laurent was brought up again, making Blaine wrinkle his nose a little. "I like calling you Daddy," he said after a moment. "I don't want an irrelevant person to ruin that. I like how hard it makes you, or how safe you make me feel when you call me 'little one'. I don't want it to change."

He was pulled to his feet then and immediately wrapped his arms around Alex's middle, cuddling into him and nodding at the words. But he didn't pull away as he moved towards the bed, choosing to pull Alex along with him and letting them collapse onto the bed together, giggling a little. "You did promise me cuddles and I expect you to deliver, Daddy."

Alexaner Smythe

‘Impossible. Little. Tease.’ He groaned, punctuating each word with a firm kiss. He shifted so that Blaine was pinned beneath him and he could completely surround him; careful to keep his weight on his hands so as not to crush him.

Truthfully, he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was about that title that drove him so mad. It always had but nothing got him going quite like the way it dropped from Blaine’s lips. ‘Say it again.’ He instructed, only a breath away from kissing him again.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine laughed again quietly at the words. He loved the effect he had on his Master and raised an eyebrow, waiting. But then they were moving and Alex was on top of him, pinning him to the mattress. Blaine grinned up at him, moving to sit up on his elbows so they were closer together.

"Daddy," he said softly, not closing the gap between them. His teeth sunk into his lower lip and he let one of his arms come up, resting on Alex's cheek. "Daddy. I'm yours, Daddy. I promise."

Alexaner Smythe

He didn't know why exactly this had always been such a turn-on for him; he didn't want to delve too deep into the root cause because he could only assume it came from his own Daddy issues somehow. The way the title dripped from Blaine's lips; whispered, repeated, breathy -- it went straight to his cock. 'I love seeing you like this.' he confessed, eyes fixated on the way his teeth bit his lip. 'You fucking know exactly what you're doing, what you want and you're playing me to get it.' he grinned. 'You wouldn't have done this a year and a half ago.'

He wanted to kiss him; his brain was spinning with thoughts of it. He was in two minds however; there was a dark part of him, a part of himself he was still a little frightened of, that wanted to be rough with Blaine. That wanted to push him to his limits and maybe just a little beyond them. He had a primal need to own him, to show Blaine he belonged. The other part of him suspected Blaine might need something a little sweeter, softer. He was still learning what the best response to him was in situations like this and so all he could do was ask. 'What do you need from me tonight little one? What do you want to feel?' he asked.

Blaine Anderson

“A year and a half ago, I didn’t even I had a ‘Daddy kink’. I feel like you’ve corrupted me, Daddy.” He shifted beneath him, aware that he was completely naked and vulnerable for him. He leaned up, not quite close enough to kiss Alex but enough that he could feel his breath.

What did he need? He wasn’t sure. Blaine knew he wasn’t allowed to cum, Alex has made that clear. But he didn’t care about that. He wanted his Master, his Daddy to show him he was owned. That he was completely his. “I want you to fuck me, Daddy,” he said in a low voice.

“I... I don’t want you to be ‘Alex’ tonight. I just want you to be my Master, my Daddy, and I want you to show me that I’m yours. Please, please, Daddy.”

Alexander Smythe

'I don't want to be gentle with you tonight.' he confessed, a smirk falling into place as Blaine's desires lined up so perfectly with his own. 'You're my pretty slut and you deserve to be used as such.' He put careful emphasis on the possessive pronoun; the clarification felt important. Blaine could be deliciously needy and desperate; a slut by some standards but he was only ever Alex's. That wasn't something anyone else was allowed to call him.

'You're not allowed to cum Blaine; and I'm not giving you any toys to help you with that. I expect you to speak up if anything becomes too much and you need to take a minute to get in control of yourself.' he explained before he shifted to the side. 'Get on your knees, take my pants off and start using that pretty mouth for what it's made for.' he instructed, the tone of his voice changing. It wouldn't take much for Blaine to get him hard; their closeness, the title and just thinking about what he could do to him was already starting to get him there.

Blaine Anderson

Blaine groaned at Alex’s words and nodded at him, his cheeks flushing a little when he was called a slut. There was something about the name calling and the humiliation that Blaine adored. And he loved it when Alex was rough with him, used him for his own. Blaine nodded - he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to cum and he was a little nervous about not having anything to help him stop. But he trusted himself.

At the order, Blaine moved and dropped to his knees in front of the bed, in front of Alex and unbuttoned his pants. It was easy for him to yank them down, exposing him and he leaned forwards to lick a stripe up his length, working to get him hard with his mouth.

Alexaner Smythe

There was nothing better than the feeling of growing hard inside the wet heat of Blaine's mouth. He was of the opinion that his boy looked his prettiest when he had his lips stretched around a cock, his cock specifically, and he'd always made a point of sharing that particular titbit at any party they attended just to watch Blaine squirm with a mixture of embarrassment and pride.

His hands twisted in his hair; a tight grip that would allow him to move Blaine's head as he pleased. With one hand at the back of his head, he pressed deep into his mouth until the head of his cock was more than nudging the back of his throat. 'New rule,' he said, speaking relatively slowly as he made Blaine hold him there. 'I'm going to make you choke on my cock every morning before I kiss you sweetly. When you walk out the door I want you to walk out with the memory of me bruising your throat before making your lips tingle.' he explained. 'Perhaps that feeling will help arm you against anyone who might try to make you believe you're not my whole world.' He lingered a few seconds more, knowing Blaine could breathe through his nose, before he inched back to give him some relief.

Blaine Anderson

He hadn’t been expecting the hands in his curls, twisting somewhat painfully until he moved, cock down to the back of his throat. He choked a little but relaxed, breathing through his nose and looking up at Alex, listening. All he could do was groan around him in agreement. That would be amazing, he had to admit and Blaine loved having Alex fuck his throat. So for it to happen every morning? That would be amazing.

Alex moved back a little and Blaine could breath properly again. But he moved his head forwards, eager to take more of him and make him feel good. Blaine’s hands twitched, eager to put them on his Master but he resisted. Right now it was about Alex using him how he pleased, just as it always should be.

#「☾」in a world that is not our own ⟩ verse: wellington prep

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