#I am leaving room for this to be fixed in future seasons though. Maybe its just a problem that exists because of where the story is at rn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anxiousstark · 4 years ago

Text

The Aura Painter | DOB

Painter! Dylan x Princess!Reader

Word Count: 12K (12.057)

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, masturbation (mutual or solo), unprotected sex (this is a fic, be safe), cum play, breeding kink, filthy tbh, some cliché romance scenes. This is my second time writing ‘smut’. But this is the first time writing something so long and so filthy, bear with me.

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve had in mind for so long. Hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed imagining it. And of course, writing it. If you do, please give it some love and share it. The biggest solo piece I’ve ever written!

BIG MASTERLIST | KO-FI

Words you must know for the fic:

Onism (n.) the awarness of how little of the world you will experience.

Heriaeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you canot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning. the grief of lost places of your past.

Elysian (adj.) beautiful or creative; divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

The droplets of rain fell against the glass, leaving a trail which I followed with my gaze. The glistening tear of water disappeared before I could place my finger against the window and imitate that I could command its movement.

The sky seemed to cry, turning a darker shade. Perhaps the sky had lost a lover or perhaps, the one they loved was far from its reach. I could not tell as I never experienced one of those stories.

The books I had to read as a child were those who would teach me how to act and think. But those I read on the confines of my room when everyone was sleeping were different. Those told the story of a beautiful lady who wished to be rescued by a gentleman. I would try not to squeal under my blanket, as that was something, a lady of a high position should not do.

I glanced at the sky again as it screamed, lightly swaying the trees outside while his droplets of tears wetted everything under itself.

"M'lady," I corrected my form, trying to look as straight as possible. Turning around, I glimpsed directly into a pair of green eyes that seemed to lose their brightness as the seasons passed. Those eyes used to be the brightest ones in this palace, but now they were almost colourless, decorated by a couple of wrinkles. "Your mother is asking for your presence at her table."

That was unusual. My mother was a sophisticated distant woman who liked to spend time on her own. Hence, she tried to escape from her responsibilities as a Queen while having breakfast by herself. She would relax outside in the gardens. A small white table filled with her preferred meals, and even if she sought to convince herself, and lie to me about her drink being just a mere juice, everyone knew it wasn't.

"Tell me, Harold," While walking through the corridors of the palace, I noticed once again the monotony. The clicking of my heels appeared to be the only sound, except the melody of the rain falling against hard surfaces. "Did the Queen seem mad?"

Harold tried not to chuckle, knowing that if my parents or any of my siblings were near, he would end up getting struck by executing such a natural gesture. "I must say that the Queen did not ask for the cello man to accompany her this morning with some music."

I gasped, glancing at him to discern if he was teasing me. Harold had been in our family for so many years. I dare to say that he was in this palace before anyone else.

"She must be quite mad, then." I bit my lower lip, trying to think what of the things I have done could have gotten her mad, and how she had discovered them. "Perhaps she found the romance novels hidden in my room?" I muttered to myself.

"M'lady," Harold opened the door to the great hall. "She preferred to eat her breakfast in here as it is raining cats and dogs outside." He whispered, letting me walk in first. I silently nodded my head, wandering closer to my mother, who was sitting on the farthest place even though she was on her own. "My Queen. The young Lady has arrived. If my services are required, I will be waiting outside to escort the young Lady back to her room."

I shivered as soon as Harold left the room, wishing he could have stayed with me. But of course, he did not deserve the wrath of my mother. While walking closer to her, my clicking heels seemed to resemble the countdown of a bomb that would explode shortly.

"Take a seat, my darling," She demanded as soon as I was close to her. I swallowed, swiftly grabbing the skirts of my dress. I sat down on the white chair in front of her. She coughed. "Someone quite similar to the young Lady of the palace has been seen on the street market." A newspaper was placed on top of the table, facing me.

I swallowed one more time. "Must be someone who resembles me." I attempted to sound confident. "I am afraid that happened on Friday, and I take piano, courtesy and manner classes that day."

"Tell me, darling," She faked a smile. Her dark brown eyes, studying my position and expressions. "May I ask how you knew this happened on Friday as the article does not say something like that?"

"I-." Her stare became even more intimidating. "Guessed?" I squinted my eyes, perceiving that she would raise her voice to inhuman levels.

"Nor did you only skip your classes, you also lied and went outside on your own." Her tone was sharp. "Hideous things could have happened to you. Do you know what this could mean to your brother's throne?" Of course, this was about my dear brother. "The sister of the future King of Onism does not follow the rules of the palace. Then, what should they expect from their new King?"

"I did not do anything inappropriate, mother." I sighed, shifting my gaze to look at her directly. "I did not get in trouble, and as you can perceive, I am all right."

She rolled her eyes, which surprised me as she always claimed for that gesture not being refined. "And books," She pointed to one of the chairs, where I noticed all my favourite romance novels resting upon it. She had found them.

"May at least have some privacy in the confines of my bedroom?" I was mad, but raising my voice to her would get me in even more trouble. "Those," I referred to the pile of books that were my most precious property. "Those are mine."

"Not anymore," She got up, grabbing one of them and examining the title. "Romance novels? When will you understand that nothing like this happens in real life?"

I felt a little strength going through my body. "That book, in particular, describes the love story of the author! It is a romance that happened to her in real life. It is not fiction."

"But that woman was not a princess, was she?" I shook my head as she waited for my answer. "However, you are one. Even if you do not have anything to do with the future throne of Onism, your brother does, and you must behave like a princess." She walked closer to the fireplace. My eyes widened, and I gasped loudly. "You are a woman and a princess. The only thing you must worry about is making your future husband happy while following his rules, even if you do not love him." She opened the book, her skinny finger ripping some of the pages, and in the process, shattering my heart. "You will get married to someone you do not love, just to unite two countries." She let the book slip from her fingers. Falling to the fire, and burning as much as my eyes were burning due to the tears. "Stop filling your head with stories that will never happen to you. You are dismissed."

I got up from the chair, slightly glancing at the pile of books. I knew they would end up in the fireplace, slowly burning. I bowed my head. "I apologize, mother." She made a gesture with her hand, instructing me to leave the great hall.

My head was down as I walked to the door, wishing to exit the room and rant to Harold. "Wait," The voice of my mother interrupted my walk. "Get prepared as in two hours a man will come to paint a portrait of you. We will send the portraits to different future Kings of other countries that have shown interest in courting you."

"Yes, mother." I could not argue.

As I came out of the room, I noticed Harold's gaze fixed on me. I shook my head, letting him accompany me to my chambers. While walking through the long corridors, I glanced outside the windows. I reminded myself that I would never dance under the rain with someone while we laugh and kiss. I will never be caressed with love. I will only be touched with the purpose of bringing an heir to someone. An heir that would have to live the same dull life as me.

Going inside my bedroom, Harold bowed his head while he walked away. However, three ladies that worked in the palace entered my room, ready to assist me. I could not even take a bath on my own, nor could I dress by myself as the three of them did it for me.

"The painter will be here soon, ma'am," Rosetta informed, deciding to stay in the room as a lady should not be alone in a room with a man who is not her beloved husband. "He is a painter from town, said to have a gift."

"Is he quite known?" I asked to continue the conversation as I did not want to be rude. Nonetheless, the image of my books burning was the only thing in my mind.

"He is known in town for doing amazing portraits in exchange for food and a place to live." My curiosity peaked at the comment. "Royals are quite interested in getting their portraits done by him. Though, he had denied their offers." I looked at her with confusion. "He does not want to be related to any royalty member." I nodded my head, understanding why he did not want that.

There were two knocks on the door, indicating that the painter was here. I was quite surprised as my mother wanted the portrait to be painted in my private chambers. "Please, come inside."

When the door opened, a tall man came inside. He was probably around 5' 10". Wide shoulders that were covered by dark brown clothes. It seemed to be his best attire. Even though you could see the cheap fabric, and how he had tried to cover some holes and get rid of some stains. He had tried to gel his hair back. At first, I thought his hair was black until a streak of light fell on him, and I discerned it was a little lighter than that.

His light brown eyes fell on me, and studying them in-depth, I noticed that they resembled to be hazel. He bowed his head. "Uhm, it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I am here to-."

I offered him a smile. "Welcome to the palace," I bowed my head a little, which seemed to surprise him. "Please, do not call me Princess. It is fine to call me Lady." I gestured to one of the chairs in my room. "Please take a seat. It must have been a bumpy ride to the palace."

While sitting down, he nodded his head. There was a big black binder between his hands. Noticing my gaze on it, he quickly opened it, showing different canvas. "I can make different types of portraits. I thought I should bring some examples for the Pri-, Lady to choose the one she fancies the most." He stretched his arm, providing his drawings for me to look at them.

"May I ask for your name, sir?" My eyes focused on his drawings, understanding why everyone wanted to get their portrait done by the young man.

"My family name is O'Brien, while my name is Dylan, my Lady."

I nodded my head while still focused on his magnificent paintings. However, one in particular seemed to grab my full attention. It was the portrait of an elder, who appeared to be looking deep into me. He was skinny, and by his clothes, I could tell he was poor. He was sitting on a chair, and I almost gasped when I discerned that he had a missing leg. His expression was warm, a gorgeous smile decorating his face. Though, you could see that he had missing teeth.

"Did you find any equivalent style to what you desire?" His soft voice snapped me from my thoughts.

"May I ask?" I turned the portrait around, giving it back. His eyes examined the elder he had drawn. "Why is he smiling, but there are shadows around him?" I had noticed that the elder was smiling. However, black and grey adumbrations were around his figure. Some resembled horrible monsters. Especially a grey shadow that resembled a demon, resting upon his head.

He chuckled. "Those are the ones people in town ask the most." He glanced at me. "I draw their exterior as they want other people to see them. But then, around them, I draw what I can perceive or what I learnt about them." I furrowed my eyebrows. "Sadly, this man passed away a couple of weeks ago due to a cold." He licked his bottom lip. "He had offered me a home for a couple of days, and of course, he had proposed food in exchange for a portrait. Those days, I learnt many things while listening to his stories. I noticed that the man was attempting to look happy for his sick wife, whom he loved with his entire soul."

I fidgeted on my seat. "What happened, then?" I curiously asked, making him grin.

"He was not happy. He was afraid of losing the love of his life because death had knocked a couple of times on their door." He glanced at the painting. "Their children had married to people in higher positions, ignoring the elderly couple and not helping them with medicines. He was 87 years old, working in the town market. He was selling vegetables that he was cultivating by himself." He decided to continue as he saw that I was expectant of knowing more. "He never lost the smile for anyone, even if people did not treat him right. And of course, when arriving at his house, he would maintain the smile for his wife."

"Then," I tried to hide my teary eyes. "Those dark shadows..."

"Those are the monsters he tried to hide, but that I got to meet. The fear of losing his wife, the frightening feeling of wanting to end his own life, the fear of not having money to pay for his wife medicines, and so much more."

"And what happened to them?" Rosetta coughed, indicating me to fix my posture, and I quickly did, which made him furrow his eyebrows.

"As I said, one of his biggest fears was that they did not have enough money to pay for his wife's medicines." He peeped at the ground for mere seconds. "She died in her sleep. Her body could not hold the pain anymore, and she faded away."

"What about the old man?"

He nodded his head, his gaze shifting to the portrait. "He passed away in his sleep too. There was a smile in his face."

I blinked, affected by the grievous story of those who had to fight to survive. "I want one of those!" Both Rosetta and Dylan looked at me with surprised expressions decorating their faces. "I would like one of those portraits."

"My Lady, I'm sorry to intervene on matters that I should not. But I do not think the Queen will like such a portrait to be sent to those who are interested in courting you." She was right.

"She will not look at the portrait. Harold will be the one sending them." I affirmed, knowing that my mother would not dirty her hands for anything.

"It could get the young man in trouble, my Lady."

I glance at the man, who was looking at Rosetta until his eyes met mine. "Yes," I smiled, even though I was upset. "You are right. Then," I studied a portrait, a simple one. "I would like this one." Dylan nodded his head.

"It would take a couple of days to finish it. But I will be staying in the palace for the time being." He informed. "Is there any time of the day where you prefer to spend your time just standing in front of me?" He blushed a little. "Just for the portrait, of course."

"Tuesdays and Fridays I must spend receiving 'Lady classes'. The rest of the days and hours, I will be in here." I sighed, offering him another smile. "Did they give you directions for the room where you will stay?" Nodding his head, he showed me a piece of paper with some important directions to places of the palace that he could visit. "Your bedroom is at the end of this corridor. You are lucky as it is empty, except for me and Harold's room." Of course, he had met Harold already. "I must warn you not to leave your room after 11 pm as there are guards everywhere." I got up from my chair. "Rosetta," I pointed at her. "She will bring every meal to your room. Do not hesitate if you need to ask them something. There are a bathroom and a study in your chambers."

Before he could answer, the door of my chambers opened. A broad man stumbled in with decisive steps, and fury adorning his face. I gulped, stepping back before I could hold myself.

The man threw a newspaper at me, hitting my chest. Glancing at the floor, I witnessed the same newspaper my mother had been holding a couple of minutes ago. "Again?" His voice was sharp. "Did you escape again to buy those stupid books?" I shook my head. "Oh, yes, you did. Mother told me." His boots sounded like thunders as he walked closer. "I do not desire to hear any rumour of how my sister is not acting like a lady." My brother Evans glared at me. "If my future in the throne is affected by your stupid imagination and ambitions, I swear I will do whatever I must do for you to learn your lesson."

"I am s-."

"Do not you dare speak back to me!" He screamed. His gaze shifted to Dylan, who was standing too, eyes widened and what seemed anger decorating his face. "Are you the painter?" He nodded his head. "Try to make her attractive in the portrait. Hopefully, some rich soon-to-be King from another country will want to marry her." He peered at me. "Luckily, he will know when a woman needs a genuine beating to act like a lady or a wife." Those were his final words as he left the room. I finally could breathe.

"Uhm," My legs shook, and I attempted to hide it. "As I said before if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, my Lady." He got up from his chair, clutching his paintings. "Is it all right to start with the portrait tomorrow morning?" I nodded my head, wishing him goodnight as he left my bedroom.

"Rosetta," Her hands were behind her back, respectfully. "Tell Harold that I demanded not to be disturbed tonight. Not even for dinner." She nodded her head, bowing and leaving me on my own.

I sighed, wandering closer to a full-body mirror that decorated one of my walls. The moment I feared the most was getting closer. I would marry someone whom I do not love. I would marry someone whose eyes would not hold back from gawking at other women. And with those thoughts in mind, I went to sleep.

The following day, I decided to have breakfast and lunch in my chambers, not wanting to face my mother or my older brother. I had convinced Harold to stay outside my room, wanting to be on my own with Dylan. I thought that I would feel more comfortable if I didn't have someone constantly checking my posture or warning me of what should not say. Moreover, I also believed that a painter needed his privacy to reflect his art on a canvas.

I was stunned toward the bright day outside. Looking out of the window, I saw my little siblings running around the garden as some servants followed them. They were probably making their job even more complicated. Alexander and Victoria were quite the troublemakers. However, I was thrilled for them as they would not have to follow such strict indications, as to the ones I had to obey.

"Are those your siblings, my Lady?" Scared by the prompt presence, I turned around. Dylan was standing there, holding a big canvas and a briefcase, which I assumed held his painting materials. "I apologize if I alarmed you. Harold permitted me to come inside."

I nodded my head. "Yes, they are twins." I offered him a smile as he grabbed a chair, placing it in front of me. I discerned that my back was resting against the wall, and I quickly moved to stand straight. "Oh, please, no." He extended his arm. "Would it be okay for you to go back to that position? The light was caressing the right side of your face. There was a beautiful contrast." I swallowed, nodding my head while resting my back against the wall. I heard him chuckle. "Please, do not worry. It is okay for you to blink, breathe or swallow. It is also okay for you to do light movements."

"May I talk?"

"I am not great at holding conversations, but I will try my best, my Lady." He placed the blank canvas on the easel. His hands worked fast while taking out his painting material from the briefcase. "If it is not rude," He swallowed, probably questioning himself if it was okay to continue speaking. "I have noticed some books lying under the bed," I glance at my bed. Noticing that some books could be seen, which meant he was good at observing and that I did not hide my books correctly. "What books do you read?"

"Well," I gulped. "I read books about manners a lady should have in front of males and for the table. I study geography too as I must know the rest of countries for future alliances, and-."

"I apologize, my Lady." He wetted his brush. "Perhaps I formed the question wrongly. I wanted to know which books you enjoy."

My mouth opened as no one has ever asked me such a question. "You will think I am a typical young girl."

"Cannot think like that, my Lady." He mixed some colours. His painting brush, caressing the canvas delicately. "You are not a typical young girl. You are the Princess of Onism." Though those words shattered my heart, he was right. I would never be a 'normal' girl as my life was nothing like the one of an ordinary lady. "However," He continued. "When you paint someone, you get to comprehend them deeply. I believe I might discover that you are an ordinary human at heart. Something beautiful that would separate you from cold-hearted royalty." I was surprised by his words as people would not dare to talk of royalty like that.

I offered him a smile. "You might." He got distracted for a couple of seconds. His eyes navigated from the canvas to me, trying to retain my features and the folds of my clothes. "Romance." I was flustered. "I do truly enjoy romance."

"I presume something you will experience as soon as these portraits are sent."

I shook my head. "Something I presume I will never experience." His eyebrows furrowed once again. "Royalty men have the right to choose whom they will marry, even if they do not love them. Women will have to accept whomever their parents choose for her." My gaze shifted to the window for a couple of seconds. "It is my destiny."

He stopped painting for mere seconds, staring at me while slowly blinking. "Destiny can be changed." I shook my head. "It can," He nodded his head. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." He grinned. "That is something my father used to say."

"Used?"

"He passed away." He gritted his teeth. "He was a great painter too. Better than me." To my curious gaze, he decided to continue. "My mother left when I was a baby. She fell in love with a younger man, leaving my dad and me." He gulped. "Therefore, I would not dare to say that I have seen love as my mother left without looking back."

"H-Have you experience love, sir?"

"Please, call me Dylan, my Lady." There was a comfortable silence between us as he seemed to be concentrating on the portrait. "Not sure I did. Love is not what is shown in books. Nonetheless, I would like it to be like that."

"I cannot agree or disagree." I offered a sad smile, trying to hide my tears. "May we take a rest?"

He glanced at the clock hanging on my wall, nodding his head. "I apologize, time went by so fast." He cleaned and placed his paints inside his briefcase. "Good night, my Lady." I bowed back to him as he closed the door.

I waited for a couple of minutes, opening the door and seeing Rosetta waiting there. "Where is Harold?" I glance around, hoping to see the grey-haired man.

"He had to take care of some issues." She replied, looking nervous. "Do you need anything, my Lady?"

I quickly nodded my head. "I expect no dinner today, and I demand to be left alone." She furrowed her eyebrows, and before she could speak back, I stopped her. "I would like to take my nightly bath on my own, please." She nodded her head, walking away after wishing me a good night.

I closed the door of my chambers, quickly locking it as I rapidly walked into my bathroom, doing the same thing to the door. Walking closer to the bath, I turned on the faucet. I checked the temperature of the water until it was lukewarm.

I sighed as my hands went to my back, untying my dress. As the clothes fell to the ground in a surprisingly elegant manner, I appreciated not being forced to wear a corset. My legs shook as I placed one inside the water until I was sitting down.

I have read in books how a woman and a man would fall in love. A passion that they could not resist. An absolute passion that would make their hands wander through their bodies, wanting to feel each other as close as possible. I have read it so many times that I could lie to my head, making it think that I have experienced something like that.

I have read the way hands seem to burn on the skin, and how breathing becomes more arduous. And how after being pleasured, you need it over, and over again.

I sighed, feeling my nipples hardening, and I learnt they could do so even if the temperature was not cold. My left hand gripped the edge of the bathtub as the right hand rested on my chest. I decided it was time to move it, and closing my eyes, I left it to wander down while grazing my nipples.

When my fingers caressed my tummy, they seemed to become shy. Not used to the places they were descending. I have read books, but I have never experienced the feeling, which made me feel curious.

I tried to remember all the books. My fingers ended up placed on top of my bundle of nerves, and just the mere touch made me shiver from excitement. I slowly moved them in circles, adding more pressure, little by little. The temperature down there seemed to get warmer to the point where it burned. I could not avoid the need to move my fingers faster.

My left hand continued to grip the edge of the bathtub, but this time harder as my mouth opened and my vision became blurry. I felt this strange sensation. I felt like I was going to urinate inside the warm water, and even though I felt quite disgusted by the thought, I could not stop my fingers. They moved in circles, faster and adding much more pressure.

And it came. A rush of pleasure came over my body, and I could not hold back the moans escaping my mouth as I peeped down between my legs. My intimate parts turned red due to temperature and agitation. Then, I regarded the water near it, looking less transparent. So that was it. That is what a woman felt after pleasuring herself.

Curiosity invaded me even more, and I wanted to experience more further.

A couple of days had gone by, and the portrait was already looking amazingly good. I did not have any doubt of Dylan's talent as I have seen some of his works.

"Has anyone shown you around?" We had got a little closer as we spent many hours together for the portrait. He shook his head, taking off his dark green beret, and resting it on a nearer seat as he proceeded to mix some colours. "Would you like to see the gardens and the horses?"

His eyes widened. "Horses, my Lady?" I chuckled at his expression, nodding my head.

"Eight to be exact." His eyes widened even more. I remembered everything he had told me about himself, especially his love for horses. "We could take a rest. I feel dizzy from the smell of paint." He promptly nodded his head, halting and resting his brush on top of an antique plate stuffed with remains of paint.

Strolling through the gardens, I peered at him. He seemed content, having the chance to smell the fresh air mingled with the scent of the white roses that decorated our gardens. "White roses are your favourites." He had surprised me while retrieving such a simple, but a unique fact about me.

I nodded my head. "I prefer them over red roses. Those are overrated." He laughed, making my heart beat loudly. Dylan was an attractive man, and these past days I could not stop my body and my heart from reacting as soon as my gaze met his. "The stables are over there." I pointed to a couple of meters away from us. I extracted my arm as I felt something falling on it. "Oh, it seems like it will start drizzling." We walked faster to the stables, almost running as the rain appeared to fall swiftly upon our clothes. "You will adore Arden. He is my hor-." I was interrupted as I saw two bodies stirring frantically against each other. Their moans, invading the stables. "Wh-." A hand covered my mouth while another dragged me off the stables. Dylan and I ran under the rain, getting as far as possible from the horses' house.

Both of us gawked at each other in astonishment. "Maybe my eyes deceived me. However, I believe that was Harold?" He seemed as shocked as me.

"They did not trick you." I gulped. "May I add that woman was my mother?"

His eyes widened even more. "T-The Queen?" I nodded my head. "I am so sorry, my Lady."

"I am not angered by the fact she was committing adultery! I know my father is no saint." I gritted my teeth. "I am mad by the fact she lives a miserable life. In which she had to marry a man she does not love, and she wants to impose the same duty on me!" My hands reached my hair, fingers clutching it. "It is not fair for her to desire the same dull and cruel life for me!" Dylan kept quiet, allowing me to rant. "Why must not I experience falling in love with someone? I crave to be touched by adoring hands, not dirty ones that will not care about my desires and will expect for an heir to be conceived." I sighed. "I ache to live that romance until the day I die." I let my posture fall, whining. "Why cannot I be kissed by someone truly interested in me? Why cannot I be touched by someone who desi-."

My speech was interrupted as Dylan's hands rested on my cheeks. His lips were tightly pressed against mine. I have read how a kiss was mostly controlled by the fight of tongues, aspiring to be the dominant one. But this was just a simplistic kiss.

"Oh my-." His eyes widened as my mouth fell open. "I apologize for my behaviour. I do not know what came over my mind for me to-." My hands were now covering his cheeks as I bought him closer. My lips were awkwardly pressed against his. He separated from me, blinking dumbfoundedly. "Close your eyes." I did. "Open your mouth a little, my Lady." His thumb drew my lower lip downwards. As he got closer, I felt his tongue stroking my bottom lip.

My hands were pushed against his chest as I gripped his white shirt between my fingers. One of his hands had to wander to my lower back as my legs shook. His tongue was now grinding against mine, and not knowing what to do, I mimicked his actions. My mouth instinctively melted against his.

"You will be the death of me, my Lady." He held me closer. His right hand, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Literally."

The following day, I walked to the great hall, confident enough not to knock on the door before stepping inside. My mother seemed shocked to be interrupted by my presence, as she gripped the teacup tighter.

Harold wandered behind me, fear written all over his features as he had never seen me disrespecting my mother in such a way.

I gestured for the cello man to leave the room, which he quickly did, not even daring to glance at my mother. "How dare you to come inside in such a-."

"I will not get married." I interrupted her, something I have never done before. I had been informed by my brother that there was a powerful candidate for me to marry. A 52-year-old man. "I will not marry someone I do not love, and even less a 52-year-old King just for our countries to be at peace."

"You have no say on it."

"Mother, do you want me to live the same life as you?" I ventured to ask. "Do you want me to marry a man who will sleep with every servant or woman that crosses his way while my future children will have to suffer the consequences too? A boy that ought to follow the rules of a King until he becomes a tyrant. And a girl who ought to have to act as demanded. Merely for the young male of the family to be even more respected?"

"As I sai-."

"Will I be like you then, mother?" My lower lip trembled. "Will I be cold-hearted towards my children, towards my daughter? Will I have to submit her to the same shameful life as me?" I did not let Harold intervene. "Will I have to close my eyes to true love and consume my infatuation with the person I truly love in some dirty stable?" Both of them were shocked by my words. "You are preparing and forcing me to the life you both have. I do not want to hide from the public eye and keep the person I cherish a secret."

"If this is about that paint-."

"He has nothing to do with this." I did not appreciate the way she spoke about Dylan. "I have openly expressed my discomfort about marrying someone I do not love since I recollect. I understand romance books do not happen in real life. But love does, and marrying someone for my brother's throne is not love." I sighed. "It is not fair for us, women, to be treated like this while men are approached like that!"

She surprisingly glanced at me for a couple of seconds before her sober expression appeared once again. "Every King marries the women they choose. We cannot decide. Every King has bastard children." I had to remind myself that Alexander and Victoria were the children of one of our servants. "Even your brother is going to have a bastard child." I furrowed my eyebrows as it was the first time hearing that news. "Rosetta." A disgusted expression decorated my face.

"Well," I breathed deeply. "Destiny can be changed." I recited the same words Dylan had told me once. "It might be scary or go against the rules. But destiny can be changed by the decisions you make. Only you are the sailor of the ship." I glimpse at Harold. "I am tired of not being the sailor of my ship." I softened my voice. "Think about it, mother. I will do everything in my power to get out of here, even if it means dying in the process." For the first time in my life, my teary eyes were met with the glistening tears that invaded my mother's eyes. "I will be in my chambers. Please do not bother me at all."

When arriving to my bedroom, I did not expect to see Dylan waiting inside. I locked the door behind me as my eyes examined his entire body.

"Are you all right, my Lady?" He showed the briefcase he was squeezing between his fingers. "Rosetta told me to wait here for you. Since we could not continue with the portrait this morning, I assumed that perhaps, we could tonight."

"Let's escape together." My mouth seemed to move on its own. However, Dylan stared at me with complete confusion decorating his features.

"My Lady, I do not think I understand what you are trying to imply." He knew.

"I have told you before I do not plan on marrying someone whom I do not love." I walked to my bed, sitting down on the mattress. "It has been decided without letting me know that I will get married to the King of Hiraeth."

He glanced down at the floor for a couple of seconds to later shift his gaze on my direction. "Perhaps he is not only a noble because of his blood. Perhaps he is also noble at heart."

"It does not matter if he is noble at heart or not," I answered decisively. "He is a 52 year-old-man! And as I said before, someone I do not love!"

He sighed. "My Lady," Resting his briefcase on the floor, he pulled a chair to sit in front of me. Though, he maintained the distance. "If I am not wrong, you have never met this man before. You might end up fallin-."

"Do not dare to say that!" I got up from the bed, eyes flickering. "Please, do not be like the rest of those who live in this palace! The first time you came here, you told me I could change my fate." He swallowed, nodding his head. "That is what I am trying to do." My hands were squeezing the skirts of my dress. "Please."

"I cannot take you anywhere, my Lady. You are the Princess of Onism. Everyone in town knows the beauty you behold." He coughed while deeply looking into my eyes. "I do not know anyone that will keep the secret of you being in to-."

"You are not understanding me, Dylan." I tried to ignore the way his body shivered every time my tongue and lips worked together to create his name. "I know I told you that I have never experienced love." I bit my lower lip, taking a breath. "I only know what I have read in books." He nodded his head, waiting for me to continue. "But I understand my feelings. Even before the day we kissed under the rain, I was already attracted to you."

"Attraction is something that can be felt many-."

I stepped closer, making him glance up. "It was attraction, I admit." Both of my hands navigated towards my back. "But my heart beats madly, whenever you are near me, whenever I glance at you or when I think about you." He got up from his chair, slightly stepping back. "I am utterly sure that I am in love with a man who worries about me and my feelings. Someone who has been encouraging me and that has seen my fears."

"My Lady," He gulped. "I truly feel honoured to be inside your mind and heart. I will not lie as I do also feel the same towards you." When I moved closer, he prevented me. "But you are a Princess, and I am just a simple man who paints in exchange for food and a roof." He blinked fastly. "I cannot give you the life you might expect." He offered me a side-smile. "And of course, our relationship would not be approved by the King and Queen." His voice turned softer. "Neither by the soon-to-be King of Onism."

"I do not care!"

"But I do, my Lady." He breathed deeply. "I do not want you to live a life where people will insult and degrade you plainly because you married a penniless man, or because you did not obey the established rules of the members of the royalty."

"I already have that life, where I am discredited just because I am a woman." This time when I stepped closer, he did not back away. "I already have to follow settled rules for the sake of my brother." My hands were still behind my back, and I finally decided to let them untie. He did not notice yet. "But now I have found someone who makes me feel something I have never experienced before." I sighed. "What did you do to me, Dylan?" He opened his mouth. "My mind and heart are full of you, and they constantly demand my body to be filled by you too."

His neck and cheeks turned red as he seemed to have difficulties while swallowing his spit. His eyes shifted around the room, trying to decide what to do. "My Lady," He sighed in desperation. His hands travelling through his body while he clenched it and gritted his teeth. "I truly have been trying to hold back." His hands now grazed his face. "I have been trying to hide how in love I am with you as I am just someone who does not deserve you."

"You are the man who deserves me the most." The shoulders of my dress fell, displaying my bare skin. His eyes widened even more. "And you do not have to hold back anymore." Finally, the cloth fell onto the ground. "I have read so many things, but I have never thought of experiencing them." I felt embarrassed by revealing such a matter. "I could not hold my hands from exploring my body for the first time as your image was in my mind."

"You did?" I nodded my head. His eyes had never left mine, not even to peer at my underwear. A rush of confidence seemed to hasten through him as he walked to the door, securing it. "Show me." My expression must have confused him. "Show me how you did it."

It was my turn to gulp as I got on my mattress, lying down on my back. I was slightly sitting thanks to the pillow, which granted me to discern Dylan as he shuffled closer to the end of the bed.

My bralette was already off, but his eyes still fixed on mine. "You can look." As soon as those words came out of my mouth, his eyes glanced down at my chest. It seemed like he had complications breathing.

My hands gently travelled down, gripping the sides of my underwear and slowly bringing them down my legs. The chilly air was a contrast of temperature to my entire body. I shifted my legs to completely discard my panties, which ended up someplace on the ground.

I permitted my fingers to touch the bundle of nerves, suffering a chill through my body that reminded me of that time in the bathtub, or the following times where I could not restrain my needs. Rubbing on circles, my other hand went to my mouth, biting on it not to make any sound.

"That is how you did it?" I nodded my head. "Until you exploded?" Again, I acknowledged with my head. "My Lady. Has any man touch you in such a way?" Shaking my head, he offered me a smile. "May I be the first one to do so?" I nodded my head, which he did not seem to like. "Please, use your words."

"I do," I did not hesitate. "I do want to be touched by you, Dylan."

"I might die right now, my Lady." He wandered closer. His hands slowly discarded his dark blue beret. Then, his fingers rapidly unbuttoned his white shirt, which had some dark little stains due to his paintings. His body was fit, enough to make a woman drool. I must say, he seemed broader than what I have imagined. "Have you ever introduced your fingers inside?"

I shook my head.

I hear the sound of his shoes falling to the ground as he kneeled on the end of the bed. His right hand moved my left hand from my clit, leading it to his hair. "Hold on tight, my Lady." Not sure of his next actions, I shivered as his breath hit my heated core. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, gently grazing my centre.

I gripped his soft hair between my fingers, making his gaze shift to look deep into my eyes. His tongue lapped, adding pressure on my clit. I whined as his tender tongue left my core to slid down and up a couple of times, extending my wetness all over my intimate part.

I was utterly surprised when the tip of his tongue ended up inside me, and he seemed to noticed as he grounded it against my walls. His right hand slowly left my thigh, where his grip had been tough. "I will be gentle." His whispers were almost unnoticeable as my moans were louder, feeling one of his warm fingers getting coated by my juices as he introduced it, inside my vagina. "Does it feel good?" Without waiting for an answer, he started thrusting it. His lapping tongue and his thrusting finger, producing a drooling combination.

"Oh my god," The candles that were lit, and resting on the table next to my bed seemed to flatter by a scene hotter than their flames. "Faster, please." I must not lie. Introducing his second finger on me had provided a slight pain. But seconds later, it had been replaced by an unbelievable pleasure. "Please do not make me beg."

"I would like to see you beg, my Lady." His mouth had left my clit, chin dripping with my fluids. "I would love to see you beg under the light of the candles while no one else knows that you are getting the love and passion you deserve." His fingers made a wet sound when they left my insides. I could not help but whine as he got farther from my body but became expectant when his fingers played with his belt.

As soon as he slid his pants down his legs, I could not help but moan again. There was a bulge between his legs, and I could not help but get flustered thinking about having him inside me. However, I was quite worried about his size as he already seemed thick through his pants.

I remembered a scene from a book where this girl had her first experience with her childhood friend. They had become lovers and decided to consume their love on top of the counter of the protagonist's kitchen. Her description of the scene was incredibly detailed. And even though my body had become more heated while reading it, I could not help but be worried when she described the experience as feeling as if she was getting 'ripped', which was quite vulgar but exciting in an unusual way.

I had been distracted by my thoughts, as to when I realized my rounds, Dylan's member was finally free. It stood tall and thick against his stomach. He could not help but contain his grin as I gasped.

"I never-."

"I know, my Lady." His hands grabbed my ankles, calmly making their way to my thighs, which he squeezed while separating my legs even more. "I am utterly happy to be the first and only man to make love to you." Uh? "I will take care of you for the rest of my life." His eyes looked deep into mine, asking for permission for his next movements and actions. Of course, I nodded.

He grabbed his shaft, his hand circling it while he thrust into his clenched fist a couple of times. He left if free, spitting on his hand to later grab his member again, lubricating it.

"I am a little scared," I confessed, shifting my gaze to his face. "You are so thick and long. H-How is that supposed to fit inside-."

"We can stop if you want, my Lady." One of his thumbs caressed one of my thighs. "There is no rush and enough time to do this whenever you feel ready."

"I do want to do it! I am just a little scared." I gulped, glancing down at his member. "Could you maybe go slowly?"

He nodded his head, getting closer and placing a peck on my lips. "Whatever you wish for, my Lady." Asking for permission again, he waited until it was granted, for the tip of his member to graze the lips of my vagina. "Here I go." He started adding pressure. Until the entire tip was inside, making me gasp. "Sh, breathe." His right hand went to my tummy, caressing it. "We can go slower."

I nodded my head as I took deep breaths, ignoring the tears that were falling from the corner of my eyes. A couple of minutes went by when I decided that the pain had become a pleasure. I shifted my hips toward Dylan. I was right as there was only pleasure. "Dylan, please," I whined. "Please move."

His entire member was inside me, and Dylan's thrusts had become steady and swift. His mouth was travelling from my jaw to my lips, sometimes stopping to ask for my well-being.

One of his hands left my hips, going between our bodies as he started circling my clit, adding more pleasure. "Oh my gosh," I raised my voice, not being able to hold back the incredible feeling. "Lord, please go faster." I circled my legs around his hips, bringing him closer if it was possible. His member, hitting places that it could not reach before. Wails of satisfaction came out of my mouth. "Please, fuck me harder."

He seemed quite shocked by my choice of words as his eyes widened. But he had seemed to enjoy them too, as his thrusts became even faster and sloppier. "I will not last long." He groaned, not afraid of expressing his pleasure while his lips grazed my ear. "I have been dreaming of this for so long." His moans made my entire body shiver. His right hand, circling my clit even faster. "Please, my Lady. Tell me you are close. Please."

"I am!" I drowned my screams while biting his shoulder. "I am so close." His left hand travelled to my left nipple, toying with it. The different stimulations, getting me dizzy while my vision became blurry. And I came undone under Dylan's body.

Reading was nothing like experiencing it.

My breath was laborious. Dylan stayed inside, thrusting a couple of times more until he quickly came out, thrusting in his clenched fist. He was going to finish soon. His eyes, questioning where to explode. My hands went to my breasts, holding them together.

Dylan's eyes widened as he understood what I was implying. He moved, his hips getting closer as his dick ended up being embraced by my breasts. I held them in place while he thrust, moaning at the contact. His tip, hitting my chin and lower lip. He did not last much longer, exploding and cumming all over my chin and lower lip.

He gasped, our bodies full of sweat. "I made a mess. I am so sorry, my L-." My tongue peeked out of my mouth, licking some of the cum that was resting on my lower lip. "I-. Oh, gosh." His lips settled up against mine. His tongue, parting my lips so his tongue could slowly dance against mine. "Did it feel good?"

"It felt amazing." I was still trying to breathe at a regular pace.

He kissed my forehead, leaving the bed and wandering to the bathroom. His member was still lightly hard. But he quickly gave me the view of his butt.

When he came back, he was gripping a towel. Sitting on the side of the bed, he slowly cleaned his release from my chin and chest. Then, folding it, he cleaned between my legs. He was cautious, trying not to hurt me as my entire body was sensitive. Next, he discarded the towel.

His body fell on the bed next to mine. We both gazed into each other's eyes with foolish smiles decorating our faces. "I do not want to leave. But night curfew will be soon."

"I do not care." I wrapped my sore body against him, breathing in. "Stay here. Nobody will know. You can leave early in the morning." I did not notice I was pouting until his lips pecked mine. Then, the rest of the night was a cuddling blur as exhaustion took over our bodies.

Another couple of days had gone by, and it was nearly impossible to keep our hands for ourselves. Dylan had been sleeping in my chambers, which was difficult to hide. I had been ignoring my mother and Harold as much as possible. And thankfully, my brother was away in a political meeting with my father. We had also continued the portrait sessions, which sometimes ended with our bodies full of paint as we could not hold back for holding each other.

I must confess that there had been sexual escapes around the palace, which was a surprise, as we did not get caught yet. Momentarily, Dylan's boxers were around his ankles like his pants as I was grabbing the skirts of my dress.

My face and chest were pressed against the wall of a tiny room while he thrust in me from behind. "Ah, we will get caught." He whispered but did not stop his movements. "You are going to be the death of me, my Lady."

We had been walking around the castle until I could not hold back myself anymore. I took Dylan's hand, going inside a tiny room that, it is used, for cleaning materials. Therefore, we were fucking as fast as we could, aiming for a release. "Please, go deeper!"

"I believe I am as immersed as I can, my Lady." The sound of our skin slapping against each other turned both of us on even more.

We both were close to our release. But we were rudely interrupted by the door of the room opening, showing Rosetta and Harold, who stared at us with surprise written all over their faces.

Dylan quickly came out of me, pulling his boxers and pants up while I let the skirts of my dress fall.

"Harold," I started. "Please, do not say anything." My eyes begged. "Could you please give us five minutes and wait in my chambers?" Without saying anything, they closed the door. "Oh my god."

"It is okay, my Lady." Fear was visible in his face and voice.

I was baffled as when entering my chambers, my mother was there, next to Harold. He ignored my gaze, staring deep into Dylan's eyes.

"Mother-."

"I told you!" She did not hesitate to raise her voice. "I know you did not choose to be a princess, but this is what we have to deal with." I could not protest. "I am not trying to make you miserable. I was trying to avoid a situation like this where this young man," Surprisingly, she did not glare at the young man next to me, who was squeezing my hand. "And you will be in danger!" She sighed. "Imagine if it was your father or brother finding you two! They arrived early this morning!" I did not know about their arrival. "He would have killed him and make you watch." I gasped, getting teary. "I did not want you guys to end as I did."

"What?" I asked while being overwhelmed by confusion.

"Your mother," Harold decided to spoke as my mother had to seat on the end of my bed, trying to calm herself. "She fell in love with a servant of this palace, way before you were born." Dylan and I were pretty interested in the story. "You do not choose who you love, my Lady." He shifted his gaze between the two of us. "However, keeping such a secret was complicated. And eventually, someone found out." His hand rested on my mother's back. "Unfortunately, the one that discovered them passionately kissing in the gardens was your father." I gulped while swaying closer to Dylan, searching for his warmth. "He executed him right there, in front of your mother."

"Those white roses used to be red." My mother's voice shook while she referred to those planted in our garden. "It was so repulsive to see that his blood mattered nothing when for me mattered the world. He was my world." She offered us a sad smile. "No one mourned for his loss except me. His body was taken away by other servants in uncaring behaviour. His blood could not be seen, because it had splattered on the flowers that had the same tone." She wept, trying to breathe and calm herself to continue. "It was as if he had never existed. I thought I had gone crazy, and I had imagined the love and the man that I desired to have."

"Mother," My eyes were teary. "I am so sorry that happened to you, and now, I understand you tried to protect me." I glimpsed at Harold for a couple of seconds. "But this is just throwing me into a deeper hole. I will end up in a similar situation to yours, and my children will be doomed, to the same cruel fate." I was desperate. "Mother, destiny can be changed." Dylan was looking at me, a tiny smile on his face while he rubbed one of my freezing hands.

"I have seen you grow up," Harold intervened. "I have learnt every one of your moves, understanding when you wanted to cry or laugh." He grinned, crossing his arms. "Deep inside, I knew one day you would want to fight from the established and dull life you are supposed to live."

"He spoke to me." My mother continued. "Harold opened my eyes, and he taught me to perceive that you were falling in love with this young man." She bowed at Dylan, and he returned the same gesture. "And I perceived that this young man was falling in love with you too."

"Your father and brother lied of their whereabouts." Harold stepped closer. "They bought with them a visitor."

My mother shifted closer to us. "It is the King of Hiraeth." She gulped. "The 52 year-old-man that they expect to marry you with."

"No," I shook my head. "Please, mother." I could not stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. "Please, mother. Do not let them do that. Please. Please." Before I could fall to my knees, my mother held her hand up, offering me a brown bag.

"It is yours now." My mother replied, sliding the bag into my hands. "This will help both of you." Money, there was a lot of gold inside the bag. Dylan was looking inside the container with wide eyes as I did. "If I had stolen money from your father, he would have noticed. Therefore, I bargained my jewellery." Her hand unconsciously went to her neck, and I noticed her diamond necklace missing.

"Here," Harold extended his arm, offering us a piece of paper. Dylan clutched it. It was a map. "That black circle is your shared property. It is a near kingdom, not too far from here but enough for you two to be safe and not be recognized, as the Princess of Onism."

"What?" My mouth was agape.

"It is Elysian. It is a small town full of life, and it is secure." Harold explained with a smile. "It is your new home. The money will help you guys for a couple of years, but of course, my Lady, you will have to get used to a life without servants and luxuries. However, I do not have any doubt that you will be able to adapt to such a life."

"Then," I glanced at my mother. "You are helping me escape?"

"I am helping both of you leave." She cried. "I am helping you get out of the life you did not choose and the one you do not desire." I turned around to stare at Dylan, who had tears running down his cheeks while smiling at me. He shyly pecked my forehead. He wiped his tears while bowing again, staying in that position for a couple of seconds. "No, no, please stand up." He did. "We are family now. Please take care of my little girl."

"I will, your highness." His words sounded so confident that it made my heart beat violently.

"W-What about you two?" I glanced between them. "Are you coming with us?" I was expectant to hear their answer.

My mother shook her head. "We did change our destiny." She referred to the present situation. "Do not worry about us."

"But-."

"My Lady," Harold took me into his arms, embracing me. "Escaping is more complex for us. But do not worry, because we will end up getting away from here. One day, we will." He smiled at me. "For now, Arden is prepared to take you both far from Onism tonight."

I nodded my head. "Take care of my mother, and thank you for being like a father to me." After squeezing him, I quickly hugged my mother. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

Before they left my room, my mum turned around. "Dylan is your name, right?" He nodded his head. "I viewed the portrait. It looks marvellous. Take it with you." He was perplexed. "The portrait was for the man that will marry her. That man is you, so that portrait belongs to you."

"I bought gifts!" I overheard two squeals, rolling my eyes with a foolish smile, adorning my features. Two tiny figures ran to the owner of the voice. "Perhaps you both only love me when I bring presents."

"Perhaps they do." I walked closer to the man, whose beautiful smile was aimed, at me. My right hand gripped his arm, a signal for him to lower his head so I could peck his lips. "Welcome home. I made your favourite dish." My lips had trapped his bottom one between mines for a couple of seconds, making him whine lowly.

He seemed to be dumbfounded while pecking my lips a couple of times until our children interrupted the moment with their excitement to know what their father had brought them. "Well," He chuckled. "I bought my little princess this!" He took a stuffed animal from his coffee-coloured bag. Charlotte squealed and giggled while running around the room with her new plaything. "And I bought my not-so-little prince," He remembered how our little boy did not want to be named as a child anymore. "This." He showed him a new brand book, which cover was of a dark blue with golden touches.

Thomas could not help but grin. "This book was printed a couple of days ago! Thank you so much, father!" He tightly hugged his dad. "Perhaps I could bring it with me to the Addington's home?" He could not help but jump around due to his excitement. "I believe Newt will love it too!"

Dylan nodded his head. "Take care fo your sister, please."

The Addington's were a young family of five that lived next door. We were constantly inviting each other over to our homes, wanting the kids to play together. We, the adults, were also mates. A couple of times, we babysit each other's kids to have privacy with our respective partners.

As soon as the kids were out of the door, Dylan's briefcase had fallen to the ground. He had been away for an entire week due to a commission of a portrait where he would earn a lot of money.

His hands were caressing my entire body as we both tried to make our way to our shared chamber, in hopes of continuing the passion there. "I have missed you so much, my Princess."

My fingers moved quickly, trying to untie the dress I was wearing. My hands were sweaty, and Dylan must have noticed as he ended up unlacing my attire. "I am not a Princess anymore."

He swallowed, eyes focused on my breasts as I was not wearing a bralette. Both of his warm hands slid up, cupping my bosom. His fingers grazed my nipples while his entire hands squeezed the rest. "You are right." His gaze shifted to my lips. "You are the queen of my heart now, my Lady." That name had stayed since the very beginning, and every time it came rolling gently out of his lips, my undergarments got drenched.

"I will explode right here, Dylan." I moaned as my hands were busy sliding down his pants while he worked on his jacket and shirt. "I have missed having you around. And being around you."

He groaned, slipping one of his hands behind my back as he squeezed my buttocks. I whined when he pinched it. "You seem to be so desperate for me."

"That smirk," I grinned while kissing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you are as desperate as me." I glanced down as I spotted his hard bulge against my front.

"I am not as needy as you are, my Lady." The last word was said sensually, making my legs shake.

"I am sure you are as needy as me, Sir." It was that word for him. I could feel the temperature of his body rising.

"What does my queen require from such a humble servant?" He acted while sprawling my body down on the bed. His hands, gripping the sides of my panties, bringing the down and discarding them. "Maybe she needs help down here?" One of his fingers ran up and down, collecting my fluids. He did not hesitate to bring that finger into his mouth, savouring it. "My Lady, perhaps I should confess that you taste like Heaven, itself."

His face leaned closer to my core, but I immediately stopped him. He glimpsed at me, confused. "I want to be the one giving you as much pleasure as possible." Sitting down on the bed, my hands pushed against his chest until he was the one lying on his back.

I questioned myself when he had taken his boxers off as his member sprang free, hitting his tummy. Pre-cum was decorating his pink tip while sometimes, you could see it palpitating as the veins were tightening.

My right hand started working immediately, grabbing his shaft while going up and down. I softly squeezed it as his arm rested on top of his forehead, blissfully. My thumb stayed on the tip, playing with the tiny drops of pre-cum.

"Gosh, are you an angel?" His words wavered as my left hand cupped his balls, lightly tugging on them. "My Lady, I need your mouth, please." I attended his demands, my left hand still playing with his balls.

However, my mouth was also sucking on the lowest part of his member. Licking my way up, my mouth embraced the tip of his dick. His hands went through my hair, settling on grasping it forcefully and guiding me down until his entire thick member was inside my mouth.

His moans got louder as his hips could not hold back, shifting upwards, choking me as his tip scraped the back of my throat. "My Lady." Glancing upwards, I could see the sweat falling down his forehead. His entire body was sweating, especially the part of his chest with a spot of hair.

I sucked harder, preventing my teeth from grazing his delicate member. "May I come inside your mouth, my Lady?" Humming against his dick, he seemed to understand my permission. A couple of hard thrusts that chocked me and he was cumming down my throat, spilling a big load. His breath was laborious as his hands caressed my hair back. "Please, ride me."

He whined when his member lost the warmth of my mouth as I shifted my body to position myself on top of him. My left hand was resting against his chest. My other hand, grabbing his still firm member. "May I?" He nodded his head. As soon as he was filling me up, both of us became a moaning mess. "Ah, I felt so empty without your dick inside me."

His hands instantly clutched my hips as he encouraged me to bounce on top him. "You look so ravishing while you bounce on my dick." I moaned, loving his dirty talk. "I could do this every day. I love how your breasts bounce while you are getting stretched by my dick." He gulped. "They have got even bigger after you had our beautiful children." His right hand slapped my ass. "Listen," I ceased my moans as I heard the slapping sounds of our skins. "You are so wet for me, my Lady. Your pussy demands to hold my dick."

Both of my hands were now resting against his chest. "I am going to explode." The hand that was on my ass moved to the front, flicking my clitoris. "You fill me up so good, Sir!"

"I will fill you even more soon." He groaned, sitting down so he could move me closer to my body. Our mouths, touching in an open kiss. "I am going to release my entire load inside you. I am going to impregnate you, my Lady." I moaned. "You want that, right?" His thrusts became sloppier and harder. "You want to get filled and carry another gorgeous baby." I nodded my head. "You are as irresistible while pregnant. The way you cannot keep your hands to yourself. The way your bosom gets even bigger."

"Please, fill me."

No more words needed to be said as our teeth clattered against each other, riding our highs together. My vision got blurry, and my moans louder as I felt all of his huge load filling me up. "Oh, fuck me, my Lady. You take my load so good." The rest was full of kisses and warm under the sheets. His member had softened inside me.

On one of the walls of our chambers, there was a portrait of my younger self. She resembled grave and upset. Her composture seemed forced, but around her body, there were flames. Sparks that represented the passion she badly wanted to share. The adventures she wanted to live. There was a yellow light, which seemed, to be connected to her heart.

Dylan had described a young lady who aspired to live a passionate life. A young woman whose heart and mind were full of hope.

There was a lovely detail on the portrait. On the wall behind the young girl, there was a mirror, where you could perceive a young Dylan, examining the woman before him with a peculiar shining light on his eyes. The identical light young Y/N had while looking at Dylan O'Brien, the humble painter who shared the 'fictional' love she always wanted to experience.The love they both found and fancied.

Yes, destiny could be changed.

Those who asked to be tagged. Thank you for showing interest:

@og-baby-ob14 - @sweetest-serpent01 - @tovvaa - @jazminebrightxx - @sonnydoesrandomshit - @badgyal-barbie - @trustfundparker - @blueraindrops

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fanficmaniatic · 3 years ago

Text

The "Anti-Chat" Theory.

(Which is also why Chat Blanc 2.0 wont work and why Ladybug needs to be akumatized).

This is a turducken on my thoughts for S4 and the future of the show so just roll with it.

So, Season 4 has been wild so far, and if clues given by the writers and people involved in show are any indication, this is only the beginning, we are in for a bumpy ride and things are just going to keep getting worse.

In all the discourse revolving season 4 something that we are all mentioning is how “Chat Blanc” is still a thing and there is no guarantee it won’t happen again. If anything it now seems more likely Chat Noir will get akumatized considering the imminent Ladynoir fallout, and how Adrien is still living with his Father, as his isolation keeps getting worse. And though I am always In for some good Character angst, and I feel like it is necessary for Adrien to know about Chat Blanc, and/or for Chat Blanc to reappear, I don’t think Chat Blanc 2.0 is something Adrien nor the show needs right know.

This theory has many parts, I promise it all ties neatly at the end.

First things first, I may be a little biased, Chat Blanc is an episode I really enjoy. I love Time Travel shenanigans, and I was dying to see Adrien finally find out about his father. The heavy consequences of the episode were obviously erased, but the impact of it all still remains trough Marinette, whom we see in the episode ‘Sentibbubler’ is having nightmares about the whole thing. But still, I love the episode, and I really don’t want an “Stormy Weather 2”… which is an episode I heavily dislike, compared to THE BEST formulaic episode of the Whole show, a.k.a “Stormy Weather” a.k.a My favorite episode. So yeah, this whole first point is just me REALLY not wanting an episode called “Chat Blanc 2.0” But there is more to it, and is the fact that I don’t see how it could work out.

“Chat Blanc 2.0” is unnecessary, and the reason why is that bringing him back wouldn’t actually do anything besides perhaps bringing Ladynoir further apart. Ladybug still CAN’T know Chat noir’s identity, (Let’s be honest and admit that’s prolly s4 finale OR happening during s5) so the show would go out of its way to make his dialogue as plain as possible without mentioning his father being hawkmoth. And yes, I do realize that Chat has been bottling his emotions and it all is likely to come out during THE ladynoir fall out… But people are ignoring the elephant in the room which is that Chat Noir DOES NOT fight Ladybug.

I promise this is relevant.

Chat Noir, unless mind controlled, would never attack Ladybug. The most clear example of this is in “Gamer 2.0” when he straight up says “I could never bring myself to fight you” as he sacrifices himself for her, that added to their classic “Is us against the world, My Lady” every season finale, and Marinette’s “In case something happens to me” In ‘Optygami’, it all could pretty well be a foreshadowing of a Ladynoir fight, where Ladybug is akumatized, and Chat has to willingly fight her. Yes, one could argue that he did fight her during ‘Chat Blanc’, but it could also be read as more of him trying to make her listen.

Where am I going with this? Chat Blanc 2.0 would be unable to bring the nuance the story needs right now. Chat Blanc still wouldn’t fight his father, because I doubt they won’t leave that for season 5. Chat Blanc still doesn’t have a motive to actually fight Ladybug. But the most important part is… What would happen at the end? What would be the change? What conversation are we having? What would be different than what we got in the original Chat Blanc?

To be fair, maybe I am wrong, maybe it can work out, this is just a theory. Maybe all the things I crossed out as impossible will actually happen, but I have been watching the show for 6 years, and If I have learned something about it, is that it is a slow burn, in ALL the aspects.

So yes, I believe Ladybug/Marinette needs to be akumatized, but I also think that Adrien has to learn about Chat Blanc, and that Chat Blanc needs to reappear, having a bigger Role than just a nightmare. So… how does that tie with everything I just said? Easy, the “Anti- Chat” Theory’

So you probably remember “Anti-Bug”, one of the best episodes from season 1, where Chole tries to help Ladybug, she doesn’t listen, and Chloe ends up being akumatized into “Ladybug but evil” … In theory, that is the deal, and is no wonder I am picking Felix Graham De Vanily to fill this role.

From an animation perspective, Felix is the obvious choice, he is identical to Adrien, and if following Anti-bug’s logic in costume desing, that would mean they can reuse Chat Blanc model with no alteration needed.

Now, How would this work? By giving Ladybug a jump scare. She thinks she has to live one of her worst nightmares again, to then find out “Oh… This is not Chat Noir” while still creating enough tension, by looking scared and distraught, that she HAS to tell him that she is scared of him being akumatized WITHOUT actually needing to mention the alternative timeline. This gives Chat noir the chance to lash out, once he realizes this is part of why ladybug is keeping him away, which can lead to Ladybug’s future akumatization.

Why this way? And please hear me out. Chat Noir NEEDS to let his emotions out, and I don’t think lashing out at ladybug is the best way but I see it as necessary. Adrien needs to take on more responsibility while being Chat, but he also needs to learn how to healthy express his emotions, because he is not allowed to do that in his current situation. Ladybug being akumatized because she feels guilty about Chat Noir allows Adrien to do BOTH. Because to save Ladybug he would have to realize “My emotions are valid, and is okey to let them out, but the way I did it was not the right one”, and both Ladybug and Chat Noir would have to apologize because this whole thing is not miscommunication… is a misunderstanding of their partners character. Ladybug needs to relay more on Chat and Chat needs to take on more responsibility… it won’t happen if Ladybug is the one that needs to save Chat Noir.

Adrien needs to realize that he needs to save himself, and that there’s people outside of his father that care for him. Ladybug is this figure that he looks up to and Admires, and is from a side of his life that his father has no control over, (At least from his perspective). So if she forgives him, if they are able to fix their relationship he will realize that things can get better.

Now, going back to Anti-Chat… his deal is way bigger than just bringing The Ladynoir fight… Is about setting up seasons 6 and 7.

What do we know so far? The Love Square and Gabriel’s Hawkmoth is going to come to an end by season 5. Which has left many fans wondering “Then what is happening on seasons 6 and 7?” And the best answer we have so far is in the episode “Timetagger” where Bunnix reveals that there is a whole team of miraculous holders fighting the Hawkmoth of the future, which is by the same episode confirmed to not be Gabriel Agreste. Besides this, I think it is safe to assume that the specials are quietly setting up themes that could come back In seasons 6 and 7.

Now, when speaking about characters that could be future villains the fandom seems to have its collective mind set on two individuals: Lila Rossi, and Felix Graham De Vanily.

Besides ‘Rocketear’, (E17), ‘Wishmaker’ (E18), and the special ’Shadow Moth’s last attack’ (Eps 25&26) we don’t know the names of the episodes of the second half of the season, which is really uncommon for miraculous ladybug, and the reason they gave us as to why is “You would know who is akumatized based on the names”… Which AGAIN, is really uncommon for ML. If you have been in this fandom for a long time you’ll realize that most people working in the show don’t really seem to care about spoilers. Now, this is kinda a conspiracy theory, but If you saw that there was an episode called “Anti-Chat” would you have assume it was any one other than Felix?…. No, right? That’s what I though. Miraculous has proven that it is good at subverting expectations, so when they are pointing at something (like a Chat Blanc 2.0 episode) it may not be as we want or suspected it to be. So I think an Anti-Chat episode makes a lot of sense.

Now, Why am I saying that this can set up future season? Buckle up, pals, here we go. What do we know about Felix?

He is evil, or at the very least seems to be ill-intentioned, if his attitude and look at the end of his episode is anything to go by.

He is after jewelry. Which, yeah, was only shown in that one episode he appeared, but this could pretty much be a foreshadowing of him later on going after the miraculous.

We know that he is bound to appear 3 more times

For this theory to work, I need it to happen in episode 22… Yes, the feared 100th episode of the show. It is not as important why Felix is akumatized, but what is happening WHILE he is akumatized.

Besides what has already been discussed, with Ladybug being scared, Ladynoir should not be able to work together. They are tumbling on each other because Chat Noir feels like she doesn’t trust him, but Ladybug NEEDS his reassurance right now, which he wont give.

This, is directly parallel with what is happening between Anti-Chat and Shadow Moth. Because Felix, even though he wants the miraculous, he won’t let himself be bossed around. He is demanding things from SM, and like in Robustus, Anti-Chat tries to, not just take Ladybug’s and Chat noir’s Miraculous, he wants to destroy Hawkmoth too. Which will lead to Shadow Moth being the reason he gets de-akumatized, instead Ladybug and Chat Noir saving him... bringing more fuel to the Ladynoir fire.

Now, Why should Felix have an attitude with Shadow Moth? Well, my friends… Do you remember, years ago, when the producers of the show said “The peacock miraculous holder will make Hawkmoth look like a baby”…. That’s not Mayura. Nathalie is a great miraculous holder, and she is really clever. But instead of making Gabriel look like a baby, she makes him look smart because he has someone like her on his team. What I am saying with this is that Felix, will suspect/ figure out Gabriel is Hawkmoth at the en of Anti-Chat, and that he will get the peacock miraculous during “The Last attack of Shadow Moth.” Thus, setting up a villain for future seasons.

This makes Felix 3 appearances be: In episode 22 (Anti-Chat), In episode 26 (SM last attack, part 2), and during S5’s finale. Felix situation will be much like Lila’s during s1 and s2 where she was introduced at the end of the first but not used until the end of the second.

Conclusion:

Felix Graham de Vanily has the potential to be a future villain and bring the Ladynoir conflict to finally surface.

And to clarify, The Ladynoir conflict, just like this Felix theory, is not something that will, nor can get resolved in one episode. If anything the fight will be around the end of season 4, and it will get resolved during season 5.

But again, this is just a theory, and I will probably be death wrong, but who knows?

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mars-writes-1999 · 4 years ago

Text

Penumbra Podcast fan Theory

I have a theory about how this season is going to end and where the Junoverse is headed. None of this is certain, it’s all just theory. This isn’t about Nureyev’s debts though, I have genuinely no idea what’s going on with that boi but he worries me lots. I love him, and can’t figure him out. This is about the other class X radical.

SPOILERS FOR JUNO STEEL AND WHAT LIES BEYOND PART 2

tl;dr Jet saw Nureyev/Ransom fly away with the Ruby 7. The Ruby 7 sent the distress signal. The Ruby 7 is a sentient ai. The Ruby 7 is the other class X radical.

1. Jet saw Nureyev/Ransom fly away with the Ruby 7.

There was a line from Jet that stuck out to me right away in What Lies Beyond part 2. At the very beginning of his interrogation jet says "I do not think. I know. There is nothing on this ship that they want." He also later says "There is nothing on this ship that they want. That is final". I do put more stock in the first than the second quote because by the second one he is playing along with Juno's plan and intentionally being angry. I have looked through the scripts and I don't think we're ever told where Jet is being held (lmk if I'm wrong) but for my theory to work he is somewhere with a window and/or he saw things before being put in a "cell" at all.

Jet is a straightforward guy and went into that interrogation with a plan. He had time to think about what he wanted to say to Juno and what he said was "I do not think. I know." I take this to mean she really does know. He knows that Ransom, who dark matters is looking for, is not on the ship. He knows that the Ruby 7, who he believes dark matters is looking for (I'll get to this later), is not on the ship.

While my Ruby 7 theory is a bit more of a long shot, I REALLY think Jet saw Ransom escape. He says in no uncertain terms that he KNOWS that there isn’t anything that Dark Matters is looking for. Even if we make an assumption that Jet thinks they’re only looking for one

2. The Ruby 7 sent the distress signal

So I’ve thought this might be true since my second listen through the episode. It was a bit of a wild guess at first, but the more I think about it the more I buckle down on it. It lines up in a lot of ways where nothing else I can think of does. This whole argument does assume that Sasha and Dark Matters didn’t just fabricate the distress signal, but given her distaste for agent G (god rest her soul), I think the signal was real.

When trying to decide who could have sent the signal we can immediately rule out literally every person in the carte blanche family. Buddy and Juno do a good job of explaining to us why each one of them couldn’t be it.

Buddy was dying (plus we have the added bonus of her monologue and knowing what she was doing)

Juno, Vespa, and Ransom were in sight of each other and in the way of EMP waves

Rita’s comms were knocked out by the EMP waves

Jet was fixing the Ruby 7 and was right next to the EMP waves. He was also pretty busy trying to keep buddy from allowing herself to be killed

All of these things considered, we can also just assume that no one on this ship would rat them out. The only possible defection is Ransom, but despite not knowing what his motives are, I don’t think he ratted them out to Dark Matters.

The only thing with the sentience to call out would be the Ruby (I’ll provide evidence for its sentience in a moment). I don’t know why it would reach out to Dark Matters specifically, but maybe it was just reaching out to anyone with a distress call. I don’t know how space distress calls work, but Sasha did need to specify that the call didn’t come from the Carte Blanche which means vehicles may have the power to send out a distress call.

We know from Sasha and Juno’s conversation that the distress call was sent out 4 times in 2 hours. In the episode we see 3 major EMP blasts: The one between episodes, the one when Vespa and Ransom start arguing and Buddy can’t communicate, and the one Buddy barely avoids by getting into the safe room. It isn’t unreasonable to presume there was a 4th EMP wave that occurred after Buddy was safe and sound but before the entire team made it back safely. 4 distress signals for 4 emp waves. If the Ruby 7 is the one sending these, then this math makes sense.

In The Heart of it all Part 2 Jet says to Buddy “Even an EMP so direct couldn’t deactivate its computer mind for a moment - though it is still bitter about its engines.” This means the Ruby may have been scared about its engines dying and therefore it sent out a distress signal.

None of this is provable at this point, but I also haven’t found any evidence to the contrary. If nothing following this is true, I still think this may be true.

3. The Ruby 7 is a sentient AI

It is at this point that I would like to acknowledge that I am using it/its as pronouns for the Ruby 7. This is how the car has been referred to in the show up until this point and so it is how I will be referring to it from here on out. If any of this pans out and the Ruby 7 uses different pronouns or signifiers in future episodes I will refer to it differently.

Before I give the reasons I think the Ruby 7 itself is sentient, I want to talk about why I think it’s plausible that Kevin and Sophie would take the story in this direction. The reason is pretty simple, they’ve told us they’d be willing to. Here is a clip of Kevin and Sophie in the Season 1 Q&A.

[audio file]

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1cOXj3ybVkszLdt8U8BiRrVW3Cy7O_oGl/view?usp=sharing

[google doc transcript of audio file]

https://docs.google.com/document/d/16EP7CP6Wxic3q7-QhPce1dinan5A0ACNDdxZ4DfaEtA/edit?usp=sharing

So not only does this clip make it clear that Kevin has wanted robots in some form from the start, it shows that Sophie is open to the idea. We also hear them talk about how big of a deal it would be to introduce elements like this into the story. I would consider all of this setup as treating the concept of AI with the respect and time it deserves. We also know how much Kevin loves the Ruby 7 so making the car a main character would absolutely be within the realm of possibilities. The Ruby 7 is arguably the 7th member of their crew with or without sentience.

Now to discuss the proof of the sentience of the Ruby 7. There’s a lot of evidence for this. The car has always been sassy and had a personality, but there are several moments that point to more than this.

In the very beginning of part 1 of Tools of Rust, we see Jet directly mull over the sentience of the Ruby 7.

The Ruby 7’s many background calculations make it more like a horse. It can be controlled, but only insofar as it wants to be controlled. (HE SHAKES HIS HEAD AND SNORTS, DISMISSING HIMSELF) “Wants to.” This car can make you believe in ghosts, too — a spirit in the machine. But the Ruby 7, whatever the force of its calculations, cannot want and cannot think; it can only behave like it does. ~from Tools of Rust Script released to 10$ Patreon supporters

This gives some of the base backgrounds into how Jet thinks about the car he is closest to. In this episode he refers to the ruby as “a wild horse, I must break it in.” The catalyst for this episode occurs while Jet is breaking down the tractor shield generator because when driving the Ruby 7 “Manuevers have not responded as they should.” There are of course reasons for these things that are not sentience. Jet himself does not think the car is sentient at the beginning of this episode. We also know that his view of the car is changing throughout his arc of this season. In its most recent appearance, we see the Ruby at its most sentient. Two distinct moments come to mind in regards to this.

First, in part one as they are discussing their plan after Rita deploys the Book:

JET: We will be on our own — even the Ruby 7 will temporarily shut down. RUBY 7: (PETTY/ANNOYED BEEPS) BUDDY: … Come again? JET: The Ruby insists that it will not shut down. It is incorrect. RUBY 7: (REALLY ANNOYED BEEPS) JET: The Ruby says that I should not tell it what it can and cannot do. VESPA: Really built some sass into that thing, huh? NUREYEV: Is it just me, or… have responses like this become more common from our mysterious vehicle? VESPA: I swear its voice changed, too. BUDDY: Then we’ll allow the car its moody teenage years, I think; after all this is over I’ll buy it an industrial supply of eyeliner and posters of sad young men. ~ From The Heart of it All part 1 script released to 10$ Patreon supporters

Here several characters are remarking upon the increasing sentience of the Ruby 7. In part 2 of this episode, we see further evidence that the crew, especially Jet, has noticed changes in the Ruby which make it seem more and more sentient.

BUDDY: Singing and theoretical mathematics? Is there anything that car can't do? JET: Increasingly I worry that there is not. Even an EMP so direct couldn’t deactivate its computer mind for a moment — though it is still bitter about its engines. (HE ACTUALLY IS WORRIED ABOUT WHAT THE HELL THE RUBY 7 IS, BUT NOW ISN’T THE TIME FOR THAT) But in this moment I am far more worried by.... ~ From Heart of it All part 2 script for 10$ Patreon Supporters

Here it is clear that not only does Jet sound concerned about the Ruby 7, but Kevin’s direction shows that Jet is genuinely unsure of the Ruby. Not just that he doesn’t know what the Ruby 7 is doing, but that he doesn’t know what the Ruby 7 is.

Now that I’ve shown all of the evidence I have I’m going to extrapolate some of this to draw a line from this evidence to my theory in part 1.

Jet knows something is up with the Ruby 7. He has seen Nureyev leave the carte blanche in the Ruby 7 and therefore knows the car is not on the ship. As the delivery notes say “now isn’t the time for that”. What does Jet have while in his “cell” but time? He spends part of his imprisonment sitting and thinking about the Ruby 7. He knows that Dark Matters could have easily found the cure mother prime so he assumes there is something else they are looking for. He realizes that his car is sentient. He realizes that they are looking for 2 main things, Ransom and the Ruby 7. He saw both of these leave. He says "I do not think. I know. There is nothing on this ship that they want."

For this to work, the Ruby 7 needs to be classified as a Class X radical, this is a tall order, but I think the Ruby 7 meets the criteria.

4. The Ruby 7 is the other class X radical

1st of all, look at that green car? That car is SO rad.

Jokes aside, there are 2 main criteria I’m using to determine that the Ruby 7 could be the class X radical Dark Matters is looking for. First, is it literally possible that this is what Dark Matters is looking for? Does it fit any descriptors Director Wire gives us during her interview with Juno? Second, does it fit the definition of a class X radical?

In answer to the first question, we consider what Dark Matters is searching for. We know that they know it’s class X, but not much else. In fact, Sasha suggests that Juno may know more than her about the radical because he’s been living with it. This gives the impression that they might not really know what they’re looking for. My theory here is they know that they are looking for a sentient robot, but they don’t know it’s a car. This explains why they know what they need to about its threats but not much else. It may also explain why some of the agents were looking in drawers. If they were not looking for Nureyev (cause like Buddy said, they should know he’s not inches tall) then perhaps they were looking for a sentient robot. Unless I’m misremembering something, I think this is all we really get in terms of information on what the second radical is. Sasha doesn’t give Juno much information despite giving him everything she can about the cure mother prime.

In answer to the second question, we look toward the definition Sasha gives Juno for a radical: “any person or object with the potential to cause significant change to civilized human life as we know it”. AI with sentience fits this definition. Even if you don’t think it does, the piece from the season 1 Q&A shows that Sophie thinks it does. They talk about the care that would need to be in place in order to introduce robots, ai, or aliens. Care is needed because any one of these three things would drastically change the galaxy as they know it.

I don’t really have any clever way to end this other than saying all of this could be wrong. I could be completely off and there are probably other explanations for everything I’ve described, but I actually feel pretty confident on this. It started off as a random thought and the more I’ve sat on it the more evidence I’ve collected. Whether this comes to fruition or not I hope you enjoyed reading my theory!

CC:

@thepenumbrapodcast

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mandalorewhore · 4 years ago

Text

Common Ground

Part 2 of Hunter (formerly Hunter and Prey)

gif by @themandaloriandaily

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: SMUT, Oral Sex (fem recieving), Cock Warming, Descriptions of violence/blood , Edging (maybe?), Dirty talk, Praise kink, Size kink, Big Dick Mando, Blindfolded Sex Words: 11.7k AO3 LINK

Summary: Reader and Mando land on Nevarro to meet with Karga

A/N: im sorry to niceguy!Karga in season 2

This would be less awkward if you knew how to talk to the man.

The awkwardness is probably one-sided though you doubt he’s brooding over what the two of you did last night in this cockpit. You’re not a blushing virgin afraid to talk about sex, but it would be nice if you actually knew something you both had in common, since you’re going to be spending a lot of time together. The extent of your conversations have been about sex, mechanics, and killing people. That’s pretty fitting for the two of you, you suppose. He is… Officially? your bounty hunting partner now.

However, he’s very comfortable in silence, so much so that it seems to be a central part of his character, much like the armor strapped to his body. Is being reserved a part of the Mandalorian creed too, or does he just prefer it? Does he want to talk about how you sucked his dick mere hours after abandoning your jobs as mercenaries? What is he thinking about right now? You could probably ask him all this, you know. Your internal argument is boiling over like a forgotten pot as you ruminate in the passenger seat of the Crest’s cockpit.

You woke up in his arms a few hours ago, curled up in the pilot seat together, your face feeling a bit grimey due to not scrubbing it clean after he gave you that facial. Feeling cozy in the quiet moments that follow waking, you snuggled in closer to his warmth, still only separated by the thin layer of his undershirt. You started when his palm squeezed your shoulder, his way of letting you know he was already awake.

There’s an unspoken feeling about the way he fell asleep in your presence. You may work together now, but you’re still virtual strangers and Mando is a professional. You doubt he’ll pass out in front of you again.

Slumped in your seat, you mull over every second that passed between the two of you. Meanwhile, he’s just sitting there like a lump of metal. Unaffected. Impassive. If you didn’t have first-hand proof of the deliciously warm skin he hides, you would’ve passed him off as a droid.

Actually when you think about it… when it comes to conversation topics, maybe metal is the place to start. As in, the ship that is now your impromptu home for the foreseeable future. You’ve gleaned that the Crest is like home to the Mandalorian and, come to think of it, he seemingly opted to sleep on his little cot down in the ship’s hull instead of taking up a bunk back on the space station. If he were anyone else, the gesture would’ve been ostentatious. It gave the impression that he was ready to leave at any moment.

But no one wants to confront a Mandalorian.

Bringing up the Crest is probably a safe option and you’re knowledgeable about ships. You can hold your ground when it comes to the technicalities of mechanics. Plus, you can be charming when you want to be; on merc jobs you weren’t put into the femme fatal role for no reason. Although you’ve casually lured men to their death, you’re more nervous to chat with Mando. But you’re determined to try. Try to be appealing...

“I’m curious… Once I have some credits saved up, would you be interested in adding mods to the Razor Crest? I haven’t gotten a good look yet, but I’m floating some ideas around.” You bite your lip automatically out of apprehension, but hoping it comes across as playful. You’re not out of line or anything; it's been hours since you last exchanged any words so it's not like you’ve been chatting his ear off. Still, you worry that you sound extra loud to someone who’s spent so long in stillness.

“That may be useful. What were you thinking?” Mando’s response comes only a second later, and even though he faces the cockpit’s transparisteel windows as he speaks, you’re giddy at his swiftness to respond.

“Well, I would love to touch her up a little. There are some issues with the hyper-drive and coms that could be fixed pretty easy. As for modifying, I saw that you installed a mobile carbonite-freezing chamber for bounties?” He nods to affirm your guess. “I could move that ‘round to utilize the space for storage and better suit two people living here. Either install a bed that can swing down or-”

“Separate beds are unnecessary. We can sleep in shifts or share the bunk.”

“O-oh. Sound’s good.” You gulp, feeling a little warm. The implication makes you sweat even if he shot down your idea. “Well, upgrading the deflector shields would be a good idea. Protect her better, plus efficient heat dispersal during atmospheric flight would let us jump into hyperspace faster. If we need to run or just want to fuck off somewhere.”

“Hm. That is a good idea. She’s fast but there's always room for improvement.” He accentuates his response by patting the console lightly, and something about the way his hand lingers gently on the surface reminds you of a parent touseling their child’s hair. A smile stretches across your face, finally relaxing a little after being so tense all morning. For someone that you thought was so serious, he sometimes reveals a sentimental side to his personality. It makes you want to ask him more, to know more about him and how he thinks, but you’re so nervous about asking him anything even slightly personal, anything that has to do with his preferences or opinions. Your short exchange about his ship went pretty smoothly you think, maybe you can ask him more, you’ll just stay on the topic of starships. That should be fine.

“Do you have a dream ship?” You blurt, sounding a little less casual than you were trying for. Oops.

He takes longer to respond this time, seemingly thinking the question over. “No. Maybe when I was younger. I have the Crest now, there isn’t a need to plan for another ship.”

There's that seriousness again, the way he responds to you makes you think that he has never had to answer hypothetical questions before. It makes perfect sense, the average person doesn’t go around asking tall, intimidating Mandolorians about their hobbies. What a Gonk Droid. I’m jealous he can get away with talking like that. Still, you do want to continue this conversation if only to hear his voice. “Nothin’ about planning Mando, just a little make-believe. Personally, I like an A-Wing, the RZ-1 variant is classic even if the 2 is flashier. X-Wings are neat too, minus the pigs flying them.”

A weird huff passes through his voice filter and he finally turns to face you. You’re caught off guard by the sudden eye-visor contact, so it’s a second later when you process what that noise was, and the realization makes you positively giddy. “Oh shit, did I make a Mandolorian laugh? Am I on Spice?”

“That’s funny- pigs don’t deserve the nice Starfighters.” He laughs again, clearer this time while warmth feelings bloom within you at his reaction. It’s so unbelievable to you that he’s here laughing at something you said. You never once heard a reaction like that from him before now. “Those fast ships are impressive and great for combat, but I need a bigger space… a YV-929 would suit my needs.”

“Of course it would, there’s like 1000 guns on that blocky thing. Plus the Empire banned it and you like to break rules.” The ship he named is virtually the same build as the Razor Crest, just with more guns, which is amusing to you.

Creature of habit, you think, finding yourself leaning subtly closer to his body with every exchange. You don’t think you’re imagining him doing the same.

“16. Could add more though.” He murmurs and something in his voice makes you think that he isn’t being entirely humorous.

Maker, he is probably mapping out all the baster mods he could stick on that bulky freighter. You’re still amused by his very literal sense of things. You settle back in your seat to observe the hyperspace light streaking across the cockpit, a comfortable silence falling over the cockpit.

As you sit there and ruminate, the topic of weapons brings forth a vague memory in your mind.

Someone once told you that Mandalorians aren’t considered great fighters due only to reputation and rumor. Most people are aware that armor and weaponry is part of the Mandalorian culture, but fewer are aware that such items have religious significance, going much deeper than a learned skill. Mandalorians are revered as great warriors not just because of their physical training, but because fighting and waging battle is a form of prayer.

Despite finding rumors about Mandalorians to be generally exaggerated, you feel this one may be true.

You’re curious but afraid to ask him to elaborate. The fact that neither of you exchanged more than a few words when you worked together is proof of his preferred privacy. Even though you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t mind giving you some sort of explanation about his culture, you decide to avoid any personal questions.

Plus you really don’t want to come across as asking about his helmet.

You break the silence shyly, trying to smoothly bring up a different topic. “Down in the hull… I haven’t explored much of your ship, I don’t want to come across as snooping. But I’m wondering, what sort of manpower have you got stored here?”

“I installed an armory. Do you want to see it?”

Fuck yes you want to check it out, his personal collection must be a wet dream.

“Yes, I’d love to!” You reply excitedly. The weapons Mando carried were always fascinating. You especially admired that rifle he slung across his back. You’ve never seen it in action but you heard it evaporated its targets. The two spokes at the end made you wonder how it shot. There has to be different settings on the gun, it would be impractical to evaporate all your targets especially if you need to bring back bounties, dead or alive. The bullets he slung across his chest must be paired with the rifle based on their size and shape when you compare them to the rifle chamber. What sort of charge do they contain to completely disintegrate its victims?

You’re tapping your fingers on your bottom lip, calculating how the rifle might function when his leg brushes past you. Glancing up in surprise, you realize he’s already headed to the cockpit ladder, twisting his upper body as he turns his helmet to look back at you.

“Come on.” You’re unable to read his face but something in his body language makes you think he’s amused by you. Flushing red, you scramble upright from the leather seat to follow him down to his armory. He slides first down the ladder, not bothering to use the rungs. Being unfamiliar with the area you opt to carefully descend one portion at a time, unaware of the view you’re giving Mando. By the time you reach the bottom, he’s diverted his gaze.

Tall body moving to a panel on the wall, he punches in a four-digit code, prompting a smooth metal cabinet on the opposite wall to slide open with a hiss. You shake your head at this. The man has a tiny metal cot but he installed a hydraulic system for his weapons cabinet. But when you look closer at the exhibit your jaw falls open.

Oh my… Now that’s sexy.

The two side doors hang open to reveal a space in the middle filled with large blasters. His mid-sized guns are stacked horizontally above each other while the longer rifles lay vertically to the right of the center display. The doors contain smaller handguns of varying design and purpose. Each weapon is unique, there is not a single inch of wasted space given to any blaster if it doesn’t have distinct properties. Eyes locked on the arsenal, you scoot forward and make grabby hands at the cabinet.

“Oo, they’re beautiful! Can I- May I see?” You are immediately drawn to a cylindrical pistol mounted at the very top of the stack, the gun’s sight a smooth metal and grip warm brown. Despite its deadly properties, it is a fucking gun, something about it looks soft to the touch. You’re finding more and more that you enjoy the juxtaposition of lethality and softness.

Even though you’ve made no specification on which gun you want to hold, Mando reaches out and selects the very gun you’re attracted to and hands it to you. I should stare less, it's like he can read my mind. Despite resolving to do so the thought is fuzzy, unimportant when you’re so excited about handling one of the prettiest pistols you’ve ever seen. Mando watches you from a few feet away.

“Good choice. I usually conceal-carry that blaster since it’s small on me, looks like the perfect size for you though.” Mando’s compliment has you grinning up at him, feeling giddy and full of light, but you’re quickly drawn back to look at the gun. Turning the weapon over in your hands you admire the polished metal, the texture making a satisfying noise as you run your fingers on its silky surface. The weight is perfectly balanced as you aim it at the wall, lining up the sight with a seam in the metal paneling.

“You can carry it from now on.”

What? It’s a good thing you know your trigger safety otherwise you would’ve pulled the trigger in shock, probably ricocheting the blast into your head. The giddy energy drains from you, replaced by apprehension and confusion. Why is he giving me so much shit?

Of course you’re thankful. You’re incredibly thankful to be on the Razor Crest at all; however you can’t help feeling as if you owe Mando on a level where you’re incapable of repaying him. He didn’t have to take you with him when he dropped Ran’s crew, he didn’t have to indulge your sexual fantasies, he didn’t have to comfort you, didn’t have to partner with you, and he doesn’t need to give you this blaster. It is certainly a collectible, a rarity. A Mandalorian wouldn’t have it on hand if it were some run of the mill E-11 handed out to every Stormtrooper in the Empire.

But what can you even say to him? It would be incredibly awkward if you refused him right now. Your mind races.

Best focus on the easy stuff. As long as he doesn’t drop me off on some wasteland I’ll be fine. That blaster is too pretty to decline so with your willfulness broken by aesthetic pleasure, you holster the gun on your hip, opposite the blaster you already carry.

“Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.” You try to inject as much gratefulness into your voice as possible, even though you still feel odd about taking it.

“Yes, you will. Get ready and come back to the cockpit, we’ll be on Nevarro in a hour.”

------------------------------------------

You’re used to men like Greef Karga but that doesn’t mean they’ll stop being annoying.

The way he speaks like he’s owed something from you just because you’re listening, the way it’s clear that every decision he makes is in self-interest, the way he eyes the women around him, yourself included. He isn’t outright dismissive like some men; such as the guard placed behind him only having eyes for your partner; but you can tell he either doesn’t take you seriously or he is more concerned about how he can sexualize you.

He definitely isn’t treating Mando as a joke. Annoying.

But, it’s not all bad. You got a kick out of how a hush came over the dusty cantina when the Mandalorian entered. He had been walking behind you which, with a little imagination, gave the effect that they were all reacting to your presence instead. Even though in reality, no one had ever reacted to you that way unless they were leering. You like how they fear him. It's a turn-on.

You wish they would fear you like that.

Someone says your name, startling you out of your thoughts. You realize that everyone at the table is looking at you expectantly but you didn’t hear the question at all. Kriff, you need to show yourself up more. Mando’s reputation is practically handing you the job but you still need to sell your skills to get anything decent out of Karga. He’s so stingy with the quarry's, even with Mando despite how he kissed the Mandalorian’s ass when greeting him. You figure that Mando didn’t take on bounties often, which put his skills in high demand.

“Uhh, sorry. A bit distracted. Can you repeat the question, please?” You reply, accentuating the please with a bat of your lashes while looking Karga full in the face. If he’s going to objectify you, you may as well play into it. Smiling, he leans forward and pushes a glass of Spotchka into your hands, lingering a little longer than necessary when your fingers meet.

“I asked if you wanted a drink. Take it, I can see you need one.” He winks at you while you stare indignantly, wondering what he means by that. It’s not like you’re sweating bullets in here. You’ve been here countless times on countless planets. Seedy cantinas with seedier people. Hopefully, he’s just flirting and doesn’t think you’re nervous. Maybe the flirting is backfiring.

You grip the glass and wet your mouth with the drink, enjoying the burn for a moment. Mando tilts his helmet at the way you accept Karga’s drink, seemingly looking sideways at you. Narrowing your eyes at him, you drink again and turn back to Karga.

“Thank you, the Spotchka here is lovely.” It’s average, but flattery can’t hurt. Karga laughs robustly at this.

“It’s no Alderaan wine, but it’ll do.” He drains his glass then pours himself another, filling it to the brim before turning to your partner. “So, Mando! Word travels fast around here. I take it you’re a full-time guild member now! I’m not surprised, always took you for the loner type. In fact, I already updated your status to full-time before you landed.” Karga waits for a response from Mando but the man sits silently at your side. Unbothered, Karga continues, “But, I am surprised you stayed that long with Ran in the first place. Must be the pretty ladies he keeps around.”

The comment makes you cringe but you still smile brightly back at him since what he is inferring is clear. Can he just register you already?

“Not alone. She’s with me.” Mando’s reply is short and flat, with no reaction to how you’re attempting to work Karga’s attention, nor at the revelation that Mando’s departure from mercenary work has apparently spread across the sector.

Karga’s smile twists into a smirk as he glances between you and Mando, looking at both of you as if he wants to fit your bodies together like a puzzle. “Well, well, well Mando. Didn’t think you were the type. Is she a bed warmer?”

Your grip tightens on the glass. What the fuck is he implying? You’re rising in your seat, about to let loose on Karga when a gloved hand settles on your shoulder and pulls you down. Excuse me? Do I have to go off on everyone here? Why the fu-

“She’s my hunting partner, my equal. Don’t insult us again.” Oh okay, you don’t know why he stopped you and he still doesn’t sound all that offended, but at least he’s defending you.

Not wanting to be spoken for, you add on, “I’m prepared with my information so that you can register me in the Bounty Hunters Guild. Pull up your holo, I’m done with the small talk.” Your back is rod-straight in the cantina booth, trying to look down at the Guild leader even if he’s seated higher than you. “Also, your Spotchka is shit.”

Karga’s is unphased at your reactions, even rolling his eyes. He replies bluntly, “If you’re going to join my guild then you need to prove to me that I’m not wasting my pucks on you. Don’t rely on the Mandalorian’s reputation. If you aren't out of some brothel then you were a mercenary, were you not?”

At first, the audacity of Karga has you fuming, ready to stand again despite whatever Mando wants. However, as you’re looking out of the corner of your eye at the crowd you realize that the bodies filling the cantina are no longer milling around quite as naturally. It's subtle, to an untrained ear and eye not much has changed. The chatter around you remains at a consistent volume and no one is blatantly staring. But your senses are sharp enough to tell that everyone in this room is On Greef Karga’s side. If a fight broke out you’d likely lose, even with Mando being worth ten men and the shiny new blaster strapped to your hip.

Also, your prospects with the guild would be fucked if you fought everyone right now, which is the whole reason you’re here. You have to play nice and it infuriates you… But you still need the job.

Taking a deep breath to quiet your anger you look to your left away from Karga, only to be startled by Mando’s visor locked directly on you. Sharing a look, one that you can only guess the meaning behind, you find the patience to calm down. You turn back to Karga, locking eyes steadily.

“Sorry for insulting your drinks, that was petty of me. But I am not sorry about how you implied that Mando would keep some poor sex slave around, nor am I sorry for reacting that way. I’d like to start over… If you’ll accept my apology, I’ll accept yours.” You can’t help letting some stubbornness slip into your words. If he’s supposed to be your boss then you aren’t going to keep up a pretense of respect after that. Not without an apology.

You’ve never given much thought to how you look to other people, how you affect the crowd when you enter a room. It’s not that you don’t think you’re pretty. Being assigned roles by Ran that allowed you to dress up and distract targets was a direct affirmation of how you looked, even if they were creeps. But when you walked into this place, the only heads that turned were for the Mandalorian. You've never had the experience of being scary to other people. You’re always having to prove yourself and show everyone that you’re someone who can handle what’s handed to them, an equal to every other hard character in the galaxy’s Outer Rim... it’s tiresome.

Karga is looking at you again, a little differently this time.

“I respect you for being blunt. Do accept my apology.” He sounds sincere enough so you nod, lips drawn tight. Heavy metal suddenly settles on your knee, Mando’s vambrace is laying across the soft flesh on your upper thigh. He squeezes, oh stars. Now you’re feeling flushed for other reasons than anger.

“Do I get an apology?” Mando asks Karga quietly, voice frustratingly mild just like the other two times he’s spoken up in this booth. The other man grins at Mando, more jolly than he should be considering who he insulted.

“My apologies, Mando! Do stay with the guild, your skills are irreplaceable! I’m afraid my jokes can go too far.`` His response is light and humorous but no one is fooled by the tone. A Mandalorian is far too valuable to lose.

After a few seconds pass between the two men you clear your throat, annoyed by everyone dancing around each other while you’re still not signed up to hunt bounties. It’s your only purpose here but whatever. Karga directs his smile at you, pulling his holo from behind him out of his guard’s hand.

“I haven’t forgotten about you, sweetheart. Now, I’m going to put your basic details in… Do you happen to be registered elsewhere, such as under an Identichip?” You shake your head; you always worked behind a moniker. “Great! That makes this easy for me. Simply provide a name, real or not, and I’ll set up a chain code so quarries are tied to your data.”

You provide your name while Karga fiddles around on the device. It’s unclear if it is really that complicated to work the thing or if he is just stalling. This feels a little too easy so far. Didn’t he make a huge fuss about proving yourself? You decide to ask outright, wanting to bring it up instead of waiting around for him to finish.

“I thought I needed to prove myself to you. Aren’t you worried about wasting pucks?” You were trying to tease but the bite in your voice can’t be helped. You worry you might’ve gone too far when Karga looks up at you with open annoyance.

“Do you want to go out back and shoot a few bottles down? Seems childish to me.” He huffs out a short breath and returns to his holo. “I know that you worked with Ran’s crew on mercenary missions which grants you some cred. You can tell me what your specialties were on such jobs and it might convince me to give you the mid-level pucks instead of entry.”

This is unfair, everyone knows it, he’s the one who told you to prove yourself and now he’s making you feel stupid for reminding him. He’s the one who was so concerned about wasting his precious pucks. But now that you’re here… you might actually be able to talk Karga into giving you a better quarry. Taking a deep breath, you start to list your qualifications.

“On mercenary jobs, I usually took a stealth role due to my stature. For certain missions, I would dress to infiltrate a group, sometimes carrying hidden weapons but mostly I would conceal poison in my jewelry, skin powder, or anything similar. I’m a great shot and am knowledgeable about starships. When I first started I had to work my way up the ranks, the lowest being mechanics. Within a year I managed to go from handywoman to assassin... There’s more if you want to hear, although I can’t directly prove anything.” You wish you could actually show all these skills to him instead of just telling him. Karga is right, shooting down dusty bottles like some sort of carnival game would be pretty useless, but at least it would feel more substantial than this.

You’re about to open your mouth and tell Karga more when you’re interrupted by Mando, and he finally sounds emotive, no longer inscrutable in tone. “This is all true. I haven’t worked closely with her on every job but I noticed her when I did. Her stealth was critical to our success during hits. She often worked on my starship. The Crest always came out in better shape once she looked at it.” You’re not sure what emotion is in his voice but whatever it is, it reminds you that his hand is still resting on your knee under the table.

Trying not to smile too widely, you bring your hand down on top of the one on your leg, giving it a pat of thanks. Karga’s eyes follow your movement but thankfully he stays silent, leaning back with a pensive look.

“Alright, this is all very interesting. Tell you what, and don’t take this as an insult, you can either have two entry-level pucks or one mid-tier. It all adds up to the same amount of credits, however, the mid-tier quarries will boost your rank… Mid also comes with a time constraint.”

There’s always a catch with this man you think, a little displeased, but at the same time, you understand that he can’t maintain his business if all pucks were given away in good faith. Mid-tier seems like the best deal, and you aren’t just here for the money. Presumably, this will be your job for a while so you may as well aim ambitiously.

“What are the last known coordinates of the mid-tier bounties?” You ask him, trying to sound like you’ve not already decided to take it.

“One for Corellia and one for Mimban. Neighboring planets.” You grimace, recognizing the names. How lovely, you get to choose between two shitholes. Karga is correct, the planets are right next to each other, so at least you don’t have to worry about fuel. Corellia is more dangerous but the planet is explored thoroughly when compared to Mimban and you’ve already been to Corellia once.

“I’ll take the Corellian bounty, thank you.” Karga slides the puck across the table with an unpleasant scrape before drawing out three more, stacking them in front of the Mandalorian one by one.

“Two are bail jumpers but the credits for each are decent. I also threw in one S level criminal, let's see how you do with that one now that you’re dedicated to my wonderful guild.” Karga grins at Mando so widely that it is almost a grimace. Well, he didn’t have to beg for the good pucks. Yeesh… Mando’s arm lifts from your knee and he gathers the pucks wordlessly.

Mando moves to leave, rising quickly from the booth and leaving you scrambling behind him, slipping your puck in the pocket on your pants. He’s at the door by the time you remember to say goodbye to Karga. Not wanting to be rude even if you don’t really like him, you turn and wave. “Um, bye! Take care.”

He waves back. “You as well, girl.”

A powerful hand grips your forearm and pulls you none too gently to the doors and out into the acrid, volcanic air.

----------------

It would be nice if the man who called you his equal an hour ago would tell you his plans. Instead, he had placed a small bag of credits in your palm and told you to go get some food and wait. You couldn’t find it in yourself to snap at him since you were starving, the last time you ate was probably several days ago, before Cantonica. Your hunger might explain the snippiness you’ve felt all day, actually.

Having finished your meal of dubious-looking soup, you get up to explore a bit before heading back to the ship. The settlement is small and you think it may be the only town on the planet or at least the only one in the area. The land around you is flat enough to see for miles. It’s impressive that Mando disappeared considering the lack of terrain to hide behind. He must be in the city somewhere.

As you wander through the busy main strip, peering at different vendors and booths, you start to feel dejected. Mando defended you, spoke up for you, and even backed up your claims so that you’d look better in front of Karga. Then he just… disappeared. Somewhere. No communication. That's fine.

It’s a little worrisome, the speed at which you’ve become attached to the man. You’ve been together for less than three days, and you already feel weird being alone. You know that you’re being unfair to yourself right now, it's not abnormal to feel lost on a foreign planet plus you literally just lost everything you’ve worked for as a mercenary. But in the end...

Being here, alone and penniless, reminds you of home, the one you had as a child. It’s something you try to forget about.

Swallowing the memories away into that off-limits area within yourself, you decide to leave the bustling road and wander down a dingy alley. Probably not the smartest move but you do have two blasters on your hip. The sounds of the crowd fade in the background as you wander farther and farther down the twisting path.

It’s almost funny how quickly things go south.

Mere minutes later, you find yourself backed up into a wall with two Rodians aiming their blasters at you, your huddled form reflected in their massive, black eyes. One of them jabs your arm with his gun saying something in that grating, echoey voice that most Rodians speak with. You get that they’re both aiming deadly weapons at you but you’re honestly just irritated.

“I don’t have credits on me fellas, you can search me but you won't find shit.” They must understand Basic because one of them pins you to the wall while the other pats your body down, searching for anything valuable. Pulling the empty credit pouch from your belt and throwing it to the ground, he twists you to face the wall, grabbing at one of your blasters. The rare one that Mando just gave you. You start to panic now, the positioning of your bodies making you nervous as you realize how vulnerable you are, fearful that they aren’t just looking for something to steal. Kicking backward at the Rodian pinning your arms, you start to struggle against them, trying hard to wiggle free and pull your other blaster.

You must’ve connected with a kneecap because you hear a sickening crunch at the same time the Rodian howls, falling to the ground. His companion makes a furious sound then lashes out at your face, fingertips just barely connecting with your cheek as you duck slightly too late. Your face stings and feels wet, his gloves seem to have sharp points on the ends. You pray that they aren’t spiked with poison.

The injured member is still preoccupied with his hyperextended knee, granting you just enough time to pull the other blaster from your hip before he joins his partner and turns on you. You throw yourself to the ground, aiming at the same time and squeezing the trigger right before you hit the earth. The shot connects with the Rodian who swung at you and he falls to the ground, shriek cut short. Twisting to your side so you can attempt an evasive roll, you attempt to line the sight up with the chest of your living assailant but your shoulder connects with debris on the ground, jerking it out of your smooth movement.

The blast misses by a few inches.

The pain from whatever you landed on shoots to your fingertips, numbing them. Noticing your distraction, he hurls his body at you thankfully unable to jump accurately due to the injury you gave him. Despite that, he lands on your legs and starts to drag you toward him, abandoning his blaster in his rage while dirt billows around your struggling bodies.

You’re terrified, fear making you clumsy as you handle your blaster. You don’t want to die being strangled by some alien in this dirty alley but the numbness in your fingers has you moving slower than usual, hand heavy as you try to aim again. Sucking in a deep breath you scream, hoping that someone on the busy strip will hear you. But no one is coming for you and there is no time to wait. Panicked, you fire in the direction of the Rodian, not taking care to calculate possible ricochet points in the area. A shot connects, his heavy body falling on your hips, dead.

Fingers still numb, you hurtle upwards and try to wipe the dust out of your eyes to look at the bodies. The first Rodian you shot is a few feet away, slumped against the wall you were pinned to, blaster marks littering the brick surface from your panicked shots. Disgusted, you shove the dead body off of your legs and stand up.

As you analyze the second alien you realize something doesn’t add up here.

Somehow the blaster shot that killed him seems to be on the back of his head. How is that possible? Did I manage to reflect it off something and hit him from behind? You’re approaching the body to look for other possible causes of death when a large shadow leaps from the rooftop, landing heavily in a cloud of dust. You curse and aim your blaster at his head, pulling the trigger before you realize who it is.

He’s lucky his helmet is pure Beskar.

“Mando! What the fuck, I could’ve killed you!” Stomach feeling like it’s full of rocks, you march up to the man and slam a fist into his chest plate, hard. Looking up into his visor you feel a flash of misguided anger, lifting your fist to pound on his armor again. “Where the fuck were you anyway?!”

A large hand flashes up to catch your wrist before it can connect with his chest. He looks at you darkly. “Do you always hit people to thank them?” he asks, while his other hand reholsters the silver blaster back onto your hip.

“What do you mean, you-” The pieces connect in your mind, the impossible blaster shot in the back of the head of the Rodian and Mando’s positioning on the roof.

He saved your ass. Again.

You already realize your anger is misdirected, he didn’t do anything to warrant it. But the adrenaline and fear paired with your entire experience on Nevarro have wound you up to the point of lashing out. You shouldn’t be mad at him, and you should definitely apologize for almost killing him. Also, you should be thanking him for saving you even though you probably would’ve survived the mugging anyway. That criminal was unarmed at the end there.

But you don’t care. You weirdly want to argue with him, to try and break that cool attitude he’s been maintaining nearly all day.

“I could’ve gotten him easily. If I didn’t hurt my arm he would’ve been dead before you arrived, also you didn’t answer my fucking question. I thought I was your equal, Mando.” You mock his earlier phrasing from the cantina, hoping he’ll snap and say something back. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he does something so strange that all the turbulent emotions you’ve been harboring fly out of your body in one instant.

Bringing up one glove to cover your eyes, he holds the hand you punched him with at the bottom edge of his helmet, pushing it up with your clasped fingers. There is a quiet hiss and you can feel the weight of metal digging into your knuckles as the Beskar lifts. Your fingers meet with soft lips, coarse facial hair brushing your skin as he presses a kiss on the blossoming bruises there. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you suddenly can’t remember what you were yelling about.

It’s odd. You’ve seen the most intimate parts of him but only now, having felt his lips, do you truly recognize how rawly human he is.

Too soon- he draws away, the helmet settles back on his head. You step back blinking as the light hits your eyes, cradling your hand to your chest like it's been hurt. Which you guess it has. You can’t really feel it.

Unable to meet his gaze you stare at his boots, “You’re weird and I don’t understand you.” Your words sound embarrassingly breathless.

He chuckles quietly. “Good.” And after a beat of silence- “Do I get an apology?”

Annoyed at how he mirrored you throwing his words back at him, you look up glaring, but you’re unable to put any actual heat into your halfhearted expression. You’re still thinking about how soft his lips felt plus, you actually feel bad for lashing out at him.

“Yes, um, I’m sorry Mando, I was only mad because I was scared. I actually could’ve killed you, and those guys almost killed me- or worse.” You shrug, eyes round as you look at the violent scene in the alley. “Plus Karga is an asshole and you disappeared, telling me to wait around like a kid. I was in a bad mood.”

“Yeah.” He offers shortly. Is he gonna say more or- “Karga is an asshole.”

“...Is that all you’re going to address.”

“You’re a good shot. You could’ve killed these muggers without me, I just didn’t want you hurt.” He smoothes away a strand of hair from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear before gripping your chin, twisting your head to look at the scratches the Rodian left. “Pretty girl.”

Flushing red again while frozen in his grip, you stand there with him as he examines your face. His gaze is piercing, and you don’t know what he’s staring at. It doesn’t take this long to examine a face. You think he’s just looking at you.

“Let’s get back to the ship, that scratch needs some Bacta gel.” He drops his arm abruptly causing you to sway at the loss of an anchor. Hand flashing out to grip his bicep, you regain your balance before starting to pull him along, heading to the street.

----------------

The walk back to the Crest is short.

You don’t know your way around this city but shipyards are easy enough to find. You recognize the signs pointing it out after your time spent as a mechanic, streets gradually widening to form into a flat strip of land for the vessels, heavy machinery appearing here and there. As you walk, you oddly find yourself getting dizzy, steps starting to drag as you realize you may have injured yourself in the struggle. You can’t recall if you hit your head or if anyone hurt you aside from the gash on your cheek, which has begun to throb. Did you knock your head on the alley wall?

The Mandalorian grunts behind you when you trip, quickly overtaking your pace to throw your arm over his elbow, then walking at your side and subtly holding you steady. The Razor Crest rises into view over the horizon, so you speed up, relieved. You want to sit down so badly that you even try to jog but Mando holds you back. His helmet ducks down next to your ear.

“Don’t overexert yourself. I want to make sure that scratch isn’t poisoned.” He murmurs, voice overwhelmingly low. Your stomach twists with desire and surprise at the tone of it, he sounds like he’s flirting with you.

“Does danger turn you on or something?” You blurt, wondering if there is a pattern to the man's desires. He did let you suck him off right after yesterday's conflict and now he seems to be coming onto you after an attempted mugging. Is this a Mandalorian thing? Weirdo. He doesn’t answer you, but the ship is right there so you break away and march up to the lowering ramp.

You pause in the middle of the hull noticing some changes. The small cot seems to be upgraded, a patterned blanket is folded at the end and there is even a pillow. That sorry excuse of a fresher is more orderly too, shower hose hung from the ceiling like an actual, well, shower. There’s a sliding metal door for privacy installed on the entrance now too. The previously barren hull has a touch of coziness now, not enough to get in the way of efficiency, but everything is just a little more livable. It is unlikely that he did this just because you live with him now but the gesture is still thoughtful.

“Is this what you were doing?” You ask excitedly, walking across the room to sit on the end of the cot.

“Not the entire time.” He answers vaguely, fiddling with his vambrace to close the ramp and flick the lights on. You just sigh in response, laying back against the bed, the thin mattress has a soft squish that cradles your sore body. Eyes sliding shut you take in the lovely sensation for a few moments. A shadow covers the light behind your eyelids. You open them to peek at the end of the bed, already feeling a blush hot on your cheeks.

Mando is standing there, towering over you with his legs just brushing your dangling lower half. He leans over your frame, arm reaching over you like he’s going to prop himself on top of your body. Your heart pounds as he comes close enough to settle his hand next to your head, helmet hovering right above your forehead. The visor tilts down to look at you frozen underneath him, heat pooling in your lower belly. An almost inaudible hum comes through the voice filter sounding like the beginning of a word as if he were about to say something but decided against it.

You find your voice, asking him in a trembling whisper. ‘Wha-what? Did you say something?”

He makes that low noise again, replying, “Those scratches need Bacta,” before he gently shoves his hand under your shoulder and pulls, sitting you upright at the end of the cot.

Your eyes are round, lips pursed in confusion. Honestly, you forgot all about that.

“O-Oh yeah…” You manage to stutter out as Mando backs up from the opening, making his way to the storage shelves to rummage around. He comes back to the cot with a tin box, undoing the clasps to fish out a tube of gel and gauze. The imagery of medical equipment reminds you of the throbbing on your cheek, which is now accompanied by a throbbing in your cunt. Very conflicting feelings.

“There’s no discoloration or swelling, you’re likely not poisoned.” He starts wiping at your jaw with a wet fabric that smells of chemicals, cleaning off the rust-colored blood that dried there. “How are you feeling?”

“Ummm, fine pretty much.” His gentle motions make it hard to think, the swiping over your skin is so gentle that you’re zoning out. That is until he reaches the actual wound, which stings harshly from whatever liquid is saturating the fabric. You flinch, “Ouch! Well, it hurts now.”

“That means it's working.” Mando picks up the gel and dabs it on your cheek which helps to soothe the sting. “You say you feel fine yet you were stumbling around a minute ago. Are you sure you’re alright?”

His question is sweet but you don’t like how he points out your loss of balance. It both concerns you and is slightly embarrassing. Are you alright? You aren't sure, the stumbling could’ve been from a number of things, exhaustion, blood loss, or any other affliction. You feel worried now, grabbing at Mando’s free arm and locking eyes with the visor.

“I-I’m not sure… I’m kinda freaked out, is it possible that a toxin could have a delayed-release? What if I kneel over while we’re in hyperspace?” You finish the sentence a little high-pitched, unable to hide the worry in your voice. The Mandalorian circles your wrist with his fingers, bringing your hand to rest on top of your leg and placing his palm over it. His thumb rubs soothingly over your knuckles.

“I don’t think you’re in any danger. I’ll take a blood sample for testing then we can stay on Nevarro for an hour, just in case.” You make a sad noise when he removes his hand from yours, but he’s already sifting through the box of medical supplies, probably to find something to test your blood with. Pulling out a tube he turns to you and holds your hand again, which makes you smile until you realize the tube contains a needlepoint to prick your finger with. Oh yuck, you hate needles. A life spent surrounded by danger and that tiny jab still makes you nervous. Breaking out into a cold sweat, you look away as Mando jabs your pointer finger; he must’ve noticed your reaction because his thumb starts up that soothing pattern again.

“You’re a trained mercenary who is scared of needles?” His tone isn’t mocking, he seems to be trying to distract you. You just stick your tongue out at him instead of verbally responding, worried that your voice will shake. For some reason, Mando freezes at this, one arm halfway to the metal box, the tube of your blood in hand. It is so odd of him that you instantly take note of the reaction, wondering what you did. After a second he starts jerkily moving again, laying a small strip of paper down and dripping your blood on it. He pointedly keeps his gaze on the paper, refusing to face you even when you poke at him.

‘What? I can’t stick my tongue out at you?” You prod him again trying to provoke a response. You gasp when his hand flashes up and stops your finger in its path, his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist just like when you punched him in the alley.

“Not,” he punctuates the word by dragging your hand down his waist, “When it reminds me of my cock down your throat.”

Your clit throbs again, slickness starting to gather between your legs. “Ummm… sorry?” You reply dumbly, throat going dry when he presses your palm into his growing bulge with a groan.

His helmet glances at the strip of paper again. “Results are normal. We should still stay on the planet for an hour, just in case… How will we fill the time?”

You don’t know how to respond. Any former thoughts you had in your mind have flown away, leaving you blank. Staring at Mando, your mind races to form a decent response, but you must’ve hesitated for too long because he rolls his hips into your hand, fully hard now.

Whining, you lean toward him reaching out your free hand to wrap around his neck, but he moves away from your touch leaving you flushed on the cot. His helmet looks you up and down, contemplating something.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks for the second time, voice an octave lower than before. He picks up the roll of gauze, unused at this point, and holds it halfway lifted in the air in front of you. You aren’t sure what he is going to use it for, you assumed to dress the wound but from the way he is holding it, he must have other ideas. He would’ve already patched you up if this were just about the fabric’s typical function.

“I’m feeling fine. The gel is working.” It’s the truth. You can’t feel your cheek throbbing anymore. The Bacta in your bloodstream has a calming effect as well, soothing your anxiety from before. You feel good even, clear-minded and thrumming with energy. You can’t imagine what he is planning but you know you want him so badly it hurts. Your heart quickens.

“Mando…” You breathe, the way you say his name is both a question and a prompt. He answers by unrolling a strip of gauze and holding it out in front of your face. The breathing through his modulator is audible now, pants heavy with desire.

“I cant- I can’t go slowly, if I fuck you right now. I want to try something else.” You nod fervently, completely ready for whatever he is thinking of doing to you however, you’re admittedly confused when he starts wrapping the gauze around your head and over your eyes. Mando unrolls several layers of gauze, a decently thick strip obstructing your vision to the point where little light penetrates the fabric. His voice startles you when you hear it right by your ear, asking, “Is this okay?”

You’re still wordless, nodding in response again. Mando hums and parts your legs with his hips, pulling you to his body and grinding against you. You mewl into the empty space in front of you and fling your arms out to find him, suddenly needing to feel as much of him as you can reach.

Hands connecting with his shoulders, you pull him down hard as if you were going to kiss him. The helmet bumps you in the face instead.

“Oops..” You murmur, embarrassed. Admittedly, you forgot all about the armor barrier between your bodies. Mando huffs softly and bumps you again, gently as to not hurt you with the heavy metal.

“Wanna guess my idea? “ He asks, sliding down your body, his fingers trailing over every inch of you, touching you as if to replace him kissing down your body. He reaches your hips and pauses there. You can’t see anything but you’re guessing he is staring at you, the thin leggings don’t leave much to the imagination. A finger presses onto your clothed slit, running up and down the length of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You can feel yourself soaking through your clothing, Mando’s fingertip is gliding wetly along your folds as if you were unclothed. You arch into his touch, needing more from him; the overwhelming sensation has you falling back onto the cot, laying there with your legs parted and the Mandalorian still between your legs.

The world feels like it’s spinning for a multitude of reasons, first and foremost being the desire you feel for the man crouched before you. Other, more complex thoughts on the situation swirl in your mind, paralyzing you with their intensity. You honestly didn’t think he would want you sexually again, especially not so soon. It just didn’t make sense for your idea of the Mandalorian, the image you carry of him as a person, all based on your time together even if much of that time was spent living separate lives. He flirted and inferred to sex a few times today, plus there was that kiss he lay on your bruised knuckles earlier. He defended you, backed up your claims, and spoke of respecting you and your skills. He’s done so much for you today, but you’re still blindsided as you sit here before him, unseeing in more ways than one. Most of all... you can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Seconds after you physically attacked him and he offers you a kiss. It was the absolute last outcome you expected from your efforts to taunt him, you wonder if he’s even allowed to do that considering his vow to never show his face. You knew he was actively sexual just from your awful experiences on the mercenary station, although you never gave much thought to that drive. It didn’t need much thought, in your opinion. He is a man after all. Face bared or hidden away from the galaxy he still has needs, even if he is devoted to a religion that you can barely fathom the depths of. Your wants and needs seem minuscule next to the enigma of the Mandalorian.

This all seems unimportant when his fingers hook in the waistband of your leggings and pull. You whimper and lift your hips, trying desperately to speed up the process and bare yourself to him. The blasters you carry are still attached to your waist but you don’t try to remove them. Sex and guns pair together perfectly for the man.

Cool air hits your pussy at the same moment he moans low in his throat. “Fuck, look at you. Beautiful.”

That reminds you, “Can’t look, can I? N-not like this…” You still weren’t sure about the gauze blindfold he secured over your eyes, your only idea so far is that he must be into this sort of thing. Not that you’re complaining. The temporary loss of sight has heightened every other sense you have, especially touch and sound. You’re certain you’ll remember every word of this encounter for the rest of your life. He’s complimented you several times over the past few days. Pretty. Beautiful. You’ll never forget that.

“Still haven’t guessed?” The Mandalorian rumbles at your thigh, pulling your pants off your ankles and spreading your legs as wide as the cot doorway will allow. A short growl rips from his throat, his touch leaving your thighs much to your dismay as he fumbles with something. There is a heavy thud that you can't make sense of, he had to have set something large on the ground to make that noise but you don’t know what- oh. Oh, stars I can feel his breath.

He took his helmet off. For you. The pieces are falling in place quickly but you can’t react to it- you can’t even breathe, every implication of his gesture setting your world ablaze. Your heart is pounding, arms stretched out from the tension you hold in your limbs, you need an anchor, anything-

There's a hot puff of air on your clit and gloveless fingers digging into your thighs. He must’ve removed those too.

It’s like you’ve been sucked into a stasis chamber, the buzz of your cerebral cortex halting all efforts to process what’s happening, enveloped in a place so quiet that you feel fucking crazy. The anticipation is killing you, you’re going to die here and that’s alright, that’s fine, you’d love to die here, in fact- wait where is he? His face is somewhere near your aching center, you know this because you can feel each breath he exhales ghosting over your pussy, the muscles in your hips want to squirm and seek him out but you can’t. Not with all this atmospheric pressure gathering, the weighted air pressing harder and harder down on you and you know you’re about to break. But you’re terrified you’ll disrupt the spell that keeps you both frozen here, still and aching with pleasure. You’re gathering the courage to make the first move when Mando finally breaks the silence.

“From now on,” you interrupt him with a gasp at how different he sounds without the voice filter, the tone is so much fuller and warm, but he then continues unperturbed, “This is fucking mine.”

Your yelp echos off the walls when his hot, skillful tongue liiicks up your slit, flicking at the very top of its path off of your clit.

Fuck this feels so good, this feels so good, how does it feel like this, so fucking amazing? He barely even talks, how is he so dexterous with his tongue? Tortured noises fall out of your throat as Mando licks through your folds, trying to taste everything his mouth can possibly reach. He rolls his tongue repeatedly over your clit making you tense up and shake from the overwhelming sensation. There's a sound in the hull, you can barely discern the source of it at first but you suddenly realize it coming from your own mouth, a filthy mantra falling from your tongue.

Mando-Mando-Mando-Don’t stop- Please dont-Mando

He stops.

“Hey! What-” Your hands fly down and flounder around finding soft locks of hair and immediately latching on for dear life. Impatiently tugging at his scalp, you try to scoot down and find his talented tongue, your clit feeling cold and achy without his touch. But he’s so strong, a solid pillar of immovable stone and you can’t budge him at all, his only reaction being a deep growl when you yank a little too hard on his head. You must’ve pissed him off because one hand is suddenly on your heat, cupping your pussy with his palm but leaving a gap between your bodies, torturing you with the lack of friction. You whine pathetically at this game.

“Mando-fuck- why… pleeeaaase.” His touch leaves you entirely and you’re more desperate than ever, writhing to the point where you almost slide off the thin mattress onto the floor. Your inner thighs connect with broad hips again, this time without the barrier of your leggings between you. When your cunt presses into his crotch you realize you can feel more than the cloth of his dark pants, he must’ve pulled his cock out because you can feel his skin, the skin of his cock brushing over you plus just a patch of it from where the hem of his pants is pulled under his balls. A ragged sound tears from both of you when his thick length parts your lips, grinding against your clit.

“I-I thought you weren’t, I mean you said-”

“I’m not g-going to fuck you-” he gasps out, voice breaking despite the clear determination in his response, “not yet. I want you to use me and make yourself-fuck- cum. Fuck yourself on me.”

You’re speechless, there are absolutely no words in any of the Galaxy’s countless languages, known or unknown, that can succinctly express just how fucking turned on his suggestion makes you. Is this his way of giving back to you after you made him cum the night before? You don’t know, fuck- you don’t care either. Fuck whatever complex you had about owing him, you deserve this and you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your fucking life.

His broad body is propped over yours, cock grinding into you over and over again as he rolls his hips and groans out, “Well? You want it like this, pretty girl? Or do you-”

You interrupt him by reaching between your legs and finding his cock, pushing it down your lips to your aching hole. He sucks in a sharp breath and everything is frozen in that quiet place again, just for a split second, before you press his length into your body, sinking down to the hilt.

A broken sound comes out of you, your throat so tight that your vocal cords can’t rub together to produce anything louder than a squeak. However, the Mandalorian is not without his words, a string of curses tumbling from him in that gorgeous, rough voice. Fuck, holy fuck, you wish you could hear him speak like that for the rest of time, his real voice without the modulator hits you straight in the gut. He called you beautiful yet he doesn’t realize the power of his beauty has completely destroyed you. You’ll do anything for him, for that voice. When he claimed your pussy as his you realized that there was never a point in time where it didn’t belong to him. The Mandalorian moves mountains with his claims.

He is like a mountain himself, completely stilling his body the second you let him inside you. You clench down on his thick length and drag yourself off of him, leaving only the swollen head inside your hole. You’re burning up, a sweat breaking out over your entire body as you try to take his cock. He’s so thick inside you, stars you can't control your fluttering lower muscles that pulse from the strain. The saliva and slickness helped him slide inside initially but now you’re clenched around him painfully tight as you try and adjust to his size. He lays so still for you, still muttering curses at the feeling of you, yet patient as you work yourself on his cock. But at some point, you can’t help letting out a little wail when you fuck yourself on him, the debilitating mix of pain and pleasure is fucking overwhelming and he can tell you’re struggling.

Mando settles lower on your body, elbows next to your head and armored torso brushing against your upper half, the ridges on his cuirass catching your nipples through your shirt. The movement slightly ruts his hips, an inch of his cock entering you accidentally. You swear and freeze at the sensation, face screwing up-it’s so good but you hurt just slightly. His mouth must be close to your face because you can feel his breath on your skin when he starts whispering filthy encouragement.

“You’re doing so fucking good for me, taking my cock- fuck you’re so tight, how are you so tight- Maker that has to hurt, you can do it baby, keep-keep trying.” The elbow to your right lifts off the thin mattress, his hand caressing down your body, over your breasts, down your side, gentle trails from his fingertips ghosting over your skin and sending tingles all over. This helps to relax your muscles a little, you feel the walls of your cunt loosen just enough to relieve the uncomfortable ache. Wetness gathers around his cock from his encouragement, as you slide with more ease along him grinding yourself up and down on his solid cock.

It is fucking indescribable, a nearly out of body experience fucking yourself on him, every time you bottom out the thick head presses into a spot that sends flashes of white behind your eyelids. You can't even moan right now, the only noises you manage are shuddering gasps and whines as you feel yourself rise higher and higher. The peak is right there, you can feel it, you’re right fucking there-

“M-Mando, I’m gonna-gonna-fuck, I’m going-I-” You’re frantic, unable to string together the words

The hand exploring your body diverts its path, reaching between your legs to rub strong circles around your clit.

He’s saying something to you but you can’t understand him, a rush of blood in your ears drowns out all other senses, the only thing you can feel is your blinding climax and the thick cock in your body. You’re clamped down tight on him as the sensation rips through you, building you up and destroying you over and over again. You can’t comprehend how he has the control to just hold himself there, you feel like you’re being wrung dry with how tightly you clench around him with each pulse of your orgasm. Eventually, the white noise fades from your ears and sensation returns to the rest of you, limbs tingling as you stretch the taut muscles.

Mando is trembling above you, arms shaking from the effort of propping himself up for so long. A soft noise leaves you and you wrap your arms around him, trying to soothe the tightness in his muscles like he did for you but the armor gets in your way. He makes a low noise in his throat when you skim over his side, finally allowing himself to rest when he lays on top of you, one arm still holding his full weight back so as to not crush you. You reach an arm under his shirt trying to feel more of his skin, but the padding and metal still attached to his body prevent you from moving more than a few inches.

This time, you’re first to break the silence, “What did-what were you saying?” you ask, not wanting to miss anything he says to you in his real, unfiltered voice. He doesn’t say or do anything at first, his hesitation lasting long enough that you resign yourself to never knowing. But then he lifts his head from where it lays next to yours and you feel the sharp tip of his nose brush your good cheek, over the bridge of your nose to the other side, then press closer into you as his lips meet yours.

His kiss is so gentle that you forget he’s still hard inside you. All you can think about is the heat of his mouth crushing against yours, pressure held back enough so that he doesn’t dig into your injured cheek but filled with a promise of the energy he holds in his powerful body. You fucking hate those Rodians more than ever because you would give anything for him to kiss you with his full strength right now, holding back nothing.

But soon -too soon, he draws back from your mouth and pulls his cock out of you. You blush at the obscene noise your wetness makes as he curses and wrenches the last inch away from your pussy, leaving you empty.

‘Come back to me…” You whisper desperately, reaching out for him.

“Fuck I can’t- I don’t want to hurt you.” Mando spits out, sounding wrecked, “I want to so fucking bad but I-”

You try pleading with him, wanting him to feel just as much blinding pleasure as you did from the way your bodies fit so perfectly together. “You won’t hurt me I swear, I can take it-you said I could.”

He groans in a tortured, painful way, hesitating for a moment and you think you might’ve just convinced him to come back and fuck you- but the hand that eventually touches you isn’t anywhere near your pussy. He’s wrapping the gauze from your eyes, pulling it from your head to press into your cheek. You blink as your eyes adjust to the yellow light of the Crests hull, the usually dull fluorescents are piercing. Still, your vision is not quite blurry enough to hide the gleam of the polished Beskar sitting back on Mandos’s head. You swallow your disappointment at losing the pure tone of his voice to that damn modulator.

“I can't,” he says softly, “you’re bleeding again. It was too rough.”

You can’t argue with him. You feel a bit weak and dizzy which is not just from your powerful orgasm. Sleeping in the cockpit didn’t grant you the most restful night; you’re exhausted, slipping away even as he speaks.

“I’m sleepy...” You mumble, your speech very simple when you’re this exhausted. Mando makes a low noise, indiscernible in tone now that it is passing through the voice filter. You hate that thing for stealing away the depth of his voice even as it fades with your consciousness.

“Sleep now… I’ll pilot the ship while you rest. Sleep…”

And so you do.

------------------------------------------

It’s many hours later. The ship hurtles through hyperspace as you stand and examine your cheek in the tiny mirror of the fresher, basked in yellow light. The wound isn't very deep but it’s long, stretching from the high point of your cheekbone halfway down to your jaw. You grimace at the sight. That will definitely leave a scar...

The Mandalorian is moving quickly behind you in the ship's hull, arranging the carbonite freezing slabs in a way that you can’t make sense of but don’t really care about. You’re too preoccupied with your reflection to consider it. Mando takes note of this.

“Warrior marks.” He tells you, walking across the length of the ship to lean against the doorway of the small fresher. “Wear them proudly, burc’ya.”

Wear them proudly.

And so you do.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert #fanfic #smut fic #mando x you #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin/you #din djarin/reader #the mandalorian fanfic #smut #din djarin #star wars #star wars fic #fanfiction

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liibrii · 4 years ago

Text

Kita Shinsuke x gn!Reader

Synopsis: Hitchhiking through the countryside you catch a ride from a handsome stranger, which just might turn out to be the greatest decision of your life – or your greatest mistake.

wc: 2k || thriller-ish, mystery-ish

a/n: heavily inspired by one of my all time favourite songs; The Count of Tuscany. tbh this fic was just an excuse for me to listen to it on repeat for several hours :P as always feedback is greatly appreciated!

In the bathroom of the roadside gas station you change into your best clothes and brush through the tangles in your hair, wash your face, scrub your hands to make sure there's no dirt beneath your nails. No one in their right mind would pick up a scruffy looking hitchhiker.

You decide to stand outside where everyone who drives in to fill their gas tanks will notice you. On a small chalkboard you bought for a few hundred yen in a convenience store you write the name of your destination with the prettiest writing you manage and even add a smiley face. That should do the trick of gaining attention.

You've almost reached your destination already. The western sea of Japan. Being born on the eastern coast you have watched the sun rise above the ocean your entire life. At least once in your life you want to see it sink in the vastness of the sea hugging your homeland.

Would a train or a bus bring you to your destination faster? They would, sadly your wallet disagreed with that option. Hitchhiking really was the best option even if you often waited for hours with no luck. Still it wasn't all bad; one time an elderly lady stoped to give you a lift. You sat in the back as the front sit was occupied by her dog who excitedly turned to sniffle and lick your face, begging for scratches. She made you stay for dinner and even prepared a futon for you to sleep. “All my children and grandchildren moved to the big cities.“ She scratched behind the ears of her dozing four legged companion as you drank tea while sun slowly set behind the hilltops. “Slowly but surely we are bein' left behind. Seein' someone so young come 'round makes these old bones incredibly happy.“

Following morning she wished you good luck on your journey. Her name and address are written in your dairy. When new year comes in a few months you mustn't forget to send her a gift. You watched her stroll away, one slow step after another, dog trailing behind, her back bent under the weight of years. Is that what the future holds for you?

You try to keep a positive outlook, at least you get to see the beauty of the countryside. The green hills and vast fields of rice swaying in the wind are a sight that takes your breath away. Summer's coming to an end. It will soon be harvest season.

Your legs are starting to hurt. Hours have passed and nobody pays you even a second glance. Under the hat your hair sticks to your skin, droplets of sweat trickle down your back. You're all but ready to give up and start looking for a place to stay the night when a man about your age approaches.

He has caught your eye before. Something about his overalls and silvery hair glimmering in the sun made him stand out from the others. He kept glancing over at you while filling his tank.

“I'm not goin' as far as ya want,“ his eyes glance over the chalkboard you're holding. “But if ya want I can give ya a ride to the next town over.“

You eagerly nod. “That would be great!“ You offer him a hand. “You can call me y/n!“

His hand is calloused. Hand of someone working outside. “Kita.“

Ride is comfortable. Kita is more on the quiet side but once you mention how pretty the landscape looks with all the swaying fields he laughs . It's a bright sound that makes your heart skip a beat. He tells you he works the fields, not all you see, but many of them. Talking to him quickly becomes easy. To your surprise you find you have a lot in common. When you arrive to the town and he stops by a small inn offering rooms you're almost reluctant to leave his company. He hesitates when taking your backpack from the back seats. “I know we just met,“ he softly says, “but could I take you out for dinner? Maybe tonight?“

How could you possibly say no? You've been travelling on your own for the past two weeks and the loneliness is starting to get to you. And he's cute.

When he picks you up a few hours later he's wearing a nice button down. He combed his hair though you preferred it when it was all messy. “I'm not late am I?“

“No, I'm just a bit early.“

“Here,“ he shyly averts his eyes when he hands you a small bouquet of spider lilies that have yet to open in full bloom.

Your cheeks flush. It has been a long time since anyone gifted you flowers. “Thank you,“ you say, sincerely.

Kita takes you to a small family owned restaurant down the street. He opens the door for you and pours you tea while you skim through the menu. Talking to him is so easy. He mentions he used to play volleyball back in high school, that many of his old teammates went on to play professionally. Embarrassed you have to tell him you know very little about volleyball. As you speak his eyes linger on your face. Sports have never been your strong suit, you admit.

“Don't feel bad over it,“ he reassuringly smiles. “So how come yer travellin' these parts?“

Your dream of seeing the sunset over the sea seems so simple when you tell him but Kita nods. There's wisdom in his eyes you don't usually see in your peers. Why are you so relieved he doesn't find your dream childish? “I just want to see the country, get to know the land and the history,“ you eagerly continue.

“There's an old castle ruin not far from the town. Tourists often visit it. If ya want I can show ya 'round,“ he offers.

A trip to ruins does sound nice. Even a little bit romantic. One more day staying around couldn't hurt, right?

Kita's smile widens when you agree. “I'll pick ya up tomorrow. Would around midday be alright?“

For the rest of the night you're all giddy on the inside. You can't wait for tomorrow to arrive. Kita walks you back to the inn and waits till you're inside before heading his own way. What a gentleman, you think to yourself. Meeting someone like him was the last thing you expected.

Whatever road lead to the castle in its days of glory has long since been claimed by the nature. Kita walks with steps of someone who has walked this path a thousand times before. You trail behind him, your clothes getting caught in branches all the time. When he sees you struggling he slows down and even offers to carry your small backpack for you.

“This castle used to be really important back in the days,“ he explains while you catch your breath. “It's strategic position is really important. There's a legend my grannie used to tell me. Durin' the Sengoku period the youngest son of a shogun fortified himself in this castle and defended it for months. Then his enemies dug tunnels beneath.“ He offers you a hand to help you climb over a pile of rubble marking what once were the castle walls. “Filled them with wood soaked in fat and set it aflame. Castle crumbled and buried hundreds of soldiers beneath it. Some say the son of the shogun still haunts this place.“

“An interesting story,“ you say, ignoring how every hair on your body stands up.

By the time you reach the ruins you're drenched in sweat and yet once the view of the valley beneath opens up you forget all about the fatigue. You step closer to the ledge and peek over it. The side of the hill plunges straight down. Deep below you see tree tops. If you slipped -

A hand grabs your shoulder. “Careful. The stones 'round here often crumble.“

You murmur an apology. Kita's hand lingers on yours, his eyes following when you walk away to have a closer look at the ruins. They're covered with grass and small trees sprouting from the crack between stones. Funny, you can't see any tables with information about this place. Having a map would surely help with orientation. You can't be the only tourist with a knack of getting lost.

Kita approaches you with a smile. “Wanna see somethin' really cool?“

You follow him inside the ruins. “Watch yer step,“ he holds the branches of a lonely tree so they don't smack you as you walk by, “it's easy to trip 'round here.“

Walls here are better preserved, higher. The shadows they cast seem longer. You follow Kita inside the labyrinth of crumbled stone. An uneasy feeling of being watched grows inside you as your approach scares off a flock of birds.

Kita pushes away a curtain of poison ivy to reveal a gaping hole where the walls lean on the cliff towering above. Cold gust of wind makes you shudder. “Here,“ Kita offers you a torchlight. Your hands are cold. Fingers barely capable of wrapping around the black plastic.

He turns to you, his eyes carefully examining your face before he enters. “Ya comin'? Be careful where ya step, the stairs are slippery.“ He offers you his hand. It's warm.

“There's a natural cave beneath the castle.“ His calm voice echoes through the winding staircase. “Apparently it used to have a small pool for the nobles to cool in durin' summer. It's filled with rubble now.“

Light of the torches casts eerie shadows on the walls. Stone surface under your fingers is cold and damp. You follow Kita through a narrow hallway and soon enough you reach a small cave. It probably used to be bigger but a part of the ceiling caved in.

Rubble crunches under the soles of your shoes. In the eerie silence all you hear is your breathing and unsteady thumping in your chest. Somewhere in the distance perhaps a ghost of a long deceased soldier- you curse yourself in your head. Why are you trying to scare yourself?

You look up to see stalactites growing from the ceiling. How many thousands of years old must they be?

“They only grow about a millimetre per year. Must be tens of thousands of years old.“ Kita's voice makes you jump. How did he know exactly what you were thinking?

Only now you notice he's standing between you and the exit to the hallway. His eyes are fixed on you. He's closing off the only exit. Pounding in your chest quickens. This place is starting to suffocate you.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

You really did follow a complete stranger into a cave beneath an abandoned castle. What an idiot. Naive, trusting idiot.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

Slowly, like water dripping from the ceiling it sinks in you may not make it out of here.

Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

Ah, don't be stupid! You still have years to live! A boring office job to take on! When was the last time you spoke to your friends?

Kita's eyes never leave yours as he steps closer. In the dim light it all seems so- Kita wouldn't- But you don't know him, do you? Torch rolls from your shaking fingers.

Is this really how it ends? Hidden from the sunlight, caught like a mouse in a trap of stone and cold cutting to your bones? You can't breathe. Will they ever find you? Tears well up in your eyes. Why? What have you done to deserve this?

You're shaking. Will you ever see the sunset over the vastness of the sea? Will you lay beside the unfortunate soldiers from centuries ago till you become only clean, nameless bones?

A shaky plea for your life is all you manage to stammer. Through the tears his face is just muddled colours. Is this really how you die?

Warm touch of his hands cupping your face, thumbs wiping away tears, his soft, gentle voice, paralyse you. “Hey, why are ya cryin'?“

#kita shinsuke #kita x reader #kita shinsuke x reader #kita imagine #kita #hqcorenet #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki x y/n #hq #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #libri scribbles #before spider lilies bloom

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mittelfrank-divas · 4 years ago

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Dance of the Black Heron chapter 3

In which Dorothea attempts to sort out how to teach Hubert to dance and words are exchanged.

AO3 link here!

===

"No, no, no." Dorothea dropped the spoon that she'd been using to tap out a steady rhythm on the side of an overturned crate, letting it clatter onto the sun-bleached wood. "Are you dancing, or are you attempting to recite chapter five of our tactics textbook to Professor Byleth?"

Hubert dropped his stance to fold his arms together. Twenty-five minutes into their dance lesson, and he already felt sweaty and overly warm in his uniform. The afternoon sun beat down on them despite the mid-autumn season, making him regret his preference for black. His long hair was already starting to stick to his cheek on one side, and he was pretending not to notice this. "I do not understand the question."

Dorothea advanced on him across the small room. Well… "room" was a generous term for the location of their private lesson. Hubert had spent weeks sniffing out the more abandoned corners of Garreg Mach when they first arrived at school. The monastery grounds were a maze of ruins, both above ground and below, and many of the abandoned locations appeared to never be included on the guards' regular rounds. Of course, he had always imagined that when he utilized such hidden spaces, it would be for much more nefarious purposes than practicing for a dance competition.

The size and dimensions of this particular building were reminiscent of the knights' hall, but whatever use it had seen in centuries past was long since lost. The wood roof had long ago rotted and caved in, and no door remained in the doorframe. But the tile floor, once cleared of debris, made for a smooth enough surface to dance on without risk of tripping, despite weeds pushing up between a few of the cracks, and the brick walls offered some amount of privacy while they practiced. The open door faced away from the monastery, and the path here was overgrown enough to dissuade anyone from choosing to wander in this direction, so he could be confident that none would be nearby to witness his humiliation. In essence, they had their own private courtyard in which to stage their lessons.

Dorothea took him by the shoulders and gave him a shake, even though she had to reach up to do so. "You're too stiff! You look like a waiter in one of those fancy Enbarr restaurants where they fold the napkins to look like doves."

Strictly speaking, Hubert had hardly visited any restaurant, in Enbarr or anywhere else. Restaurants existed for those who were socializing or traveling, or who did not already dine in the actual Adrestian Palace, served by the royal family's own chefs. But he had a vague impression of what she was describing. "And I am to understand that that is a bad thing."

Dorothea's hands flew to her head in a dramatic fashion. "Yes! The point of dancing is movement! You cannot move and be rigid as stone at the same time. The scowling doesn't help, either."

Hubert felt himself flush. "I was merely concentrating."

Dorothea pursed her lips sympathetically, but her voice retained some of its impatient edge. "Concentration is important, but you'll need to learn not to let that show on your face. The judges want to see a smile. Can you do that, Hubie? Do you know how to smile?"

With some effort, Hubert conjured the most pleasant smile his face could allow.

Dorothea visibly recoiled, her hands leaving Hubert's shoulders so she could step back. "Never mind. You look like you intend to flay me alive. Don't smile like that at the judges, alright?"

Hubert tried to ignore the sting that her comment induced. "I was not intending to be sinister." Not at this exact moment, anyway.

"I've never met someone who could be threatening by accident, but somehow you manage it." Dorothea threw herself back onto her seat and took up her spoon again. "Fine! Let's start from the top!" With that, she began drumming out a beat for him. With a groan, he went back to it.

It surprised Hubert how quickly the dance came back to him. He had not even thought about waltzing for years, let alone put it into practice. His feet still remembered the steps, his shoulders still remembered how to set themselves as though preparing to cradle another in his arms. The basic mechanics of it were really quite straightforward.

And yet he could feel Dorothea's eyes on him, evaluating his every movement. The steady drumming of her spoon on the crate provided a simple enough beat for him to keep time to, but it was a grating sound, one that reminded him with every strike that he was not simply one dancer among a crowd. He was alone on an empty floor, foolishly dancing along to cutlery. Could the entire school hear the noise? Would a face appear in that open doorway any moment? He felt horribly foolish and woefully exposed.

"Augh, just stop!" Dorothea suddenly snapped, the spoon slamming down on the crate. "Honestly, could you look any more miserable? You act like you don't even want to be here."

Hubert bent over to catch his breath, hands on his thighs. There was a reason that he devoted most of his energy toward magic, something that allowed him to stand perfectly still while still fighting with deadly force. "This may come as some shock, but no part of this experience delights me. I am here for my duty, nothing else."

"Really? You think I love being here, pretending to be happy about you getting chosen over me?" Something in Dorothea's voice broke. Hubert tilted his head up to look at her through the sweaty bangs hanging in his face, and realized that she was on her feet, hands clenched at her sides.

He stood upright, hands still clutching at the stitch in his side. Hellfire, was he out of shape. "Is that what you think this situation is?"

Dorothea snorted. "At least have the decency to be honest with me. You and Edie just couldn't have your class represented by a commoner, could you?"

Hubert would have laughed, if he had the breath for it. Instead he merely stared at her in confusion. "Where in Cichol's cursed name did you get that idea?"

"Come on, Hubie. We both know I'm the best dancer in our class. And you come to me with the flimsiest of excuses for why I wasn't chosen? That you need me to concentrate on learning magic? Dancing is a magic class! There is no reason I couldn't do both." Furious tears were pooling in her eyes, threatening to spill. "I'm not an idiot, Hubie. I know there are plenty of people who think I don't deserve to be here. And maybe that would be enough to sully our house's reputation, having someone like me represent us. I just thought you and Edie were above that sort of thing."

Hubert tried to work out where exactly this situation had gone horribly wrong and saw that he'd mishandled it from the start. He should have seen how this would look to her. He straightened his jacket and laced his hands behind his back, feeling that he owed her at least some proper manners. "On the contrary, the thought of watching you outmatch those pitiful nobles and inflict upon them the shame of failure that they have too rarely encountered in their wretched lives fills me with a joy that I rarely know. Yes, you are in every sense the ideal candidate for this competition, and the Black Eagles would be proud to have you represent us. Not despite your origins. Your unique experience is exactly what makes you so adept at what you do. You know what it is to hone your skill for professional use, not as some parlor trick. It was not I who argued against your candidacy, nor was it Lady Edelgard. It was the professor's preference."

Dorothea processed this quietly, her green eyes fixed on something behind him, her arms crossed defensively. "I really thought they believed in me more than that."

"They do," Hubert said flatly, not wishing to obscure the message with what might seem to be insincere reassurance. "Enough to ensure that you do not deviate from your aspirations. Dorothea, why exactly did you come to the officer's academy? Gaining admission while working full time as a Songstress could not have been an easy task."

Dorothea sniffled, giving a dismissive shrug. "Oh, you know. A school filled with Fodlan's wealthiest young noble bachelors? How could I pass up an opportunity like that?"

Hubert rested his chin on his palm, letting his gaze drift to the tall, sun-dappled grass outside the door. "If that is your goal, then it's certainly not the worst plan for going about it. In fact, I would call it downright shrewd. But of course, the fact that you would also be learning skills here that could be used in any number of positions in the future must have crossed your mind. A backup plan, as it were."

Dorothea snorted, though it came out more as a sniffle. "I mean, what gal wouldn't want to learn how to strike a guy with lightning whenever he gets a bit handsy?"

"Indeed, but you could have learned that in Enbarr. There are other schools, easier schools to access." Dorothea said nothing, impulsively reaching to fix her long hair, as if it were ever anything less than perfectly coiled about her shoulders. Hubert persisted. "I have read your application."

Her gaze snapped back to him, wide-eyed. "But that's--"

"Highly confidential, of course. I don't trust just anyone to have such free access to Lady Edelgard. I need to know just who is sitting behind her chair every day." It had not, in fact, been a remotely easy task to gain access to the academy's records. Hubert was still trying to puzzle out where the bishops hid their archives. Fortunately, Professor Byleth was not quite so paranoid about the files they were given, and so he had managed to leaf through the documentation on the Black Eagles. Would that the other two professors could give him such ready access to their own classes.

"It's also very rude," Dorothea muttered.

"I do not tend to concern myself with what is polite." Hubert felt a faint smirk tug at his lips. "Quite an impressive application, actually. Your test scores were average, but your essays were most engaging. You have a practicality that many others lack. You do not allow the big picture, as it were, to blind you to facts. You have valuable insights that our class needs."

Dorothea flushed, looking away from him. For someone who seemed to thrive on attention, she did not seem to know what to do with this sort of praise. She sighed impatiently. "Is there a point to all of this, or are you just heaping compliments on me so I'll drop it?"

"My point, Dorothea, is that you did not come to the officer's academy just to be a Songstress by a different name. The professor fears that making you a Dancer would send a signal that you are valued only for your appearance. That it would lead you to limit yourself. Frankly, I would be inclined to disagree, had I not seen you in action."

"They said that?" Her voice hitched a bit when she said it.

"That is what they told me. That they want to see you succeed as a gremory, a class that very few ever manage to achieve. Though I do not agree with our professor on every front, their instincts on our class composition have been largely accurate. Do not think I haven't noticed you studying the chapter on Meteor, a spell so complex that I doubt even Linhardt would be bothered to learn it."

She gave him a startled glance, but did not deny it.

Hubert nodded to her. "So I ask you again: why did you come to the officer's academy? If you are happy remaining as a Songstress, if you would be satisfied only to become a Dancer and nothing else, then I will gladly end this farce and accompany you to persuade Professor Byleth to change their mind. But if you came here to prove something, as I suspect you did, then I would be remiss to allow you to make such a sacrifice."

Her eyebrows arched disbelievingly. "Hubie, that almost sounded generous of you."

He chuckled. "Lest you mistake my actions for kindness, allow me to remind you that I seek only to ensure that Lady Edelgard's people are maximizing their potential."

"Right, of course. You could not possibly be trying to help your friends achieve their dreams the way you're always talking about helping Edie with hers." She was smiling now, even as she wiped at the corner of her eye with her sleeve. "To answer your question, I... I don't know if I have just one answer for you. But I do know that I have been around simpering nobles my whole life. And I would give just about anything for the chance to wipe the smile off their faces. And beating them at their own game? Learning the spells that all their fancy tutors and expensive libraries couldn't teach them? I'd like that very much."

Hubert smirked in triumph, and offered her a low bow. A proper bow, the likes of which he normally reserved only for Edelgard. "Then, Miss Arnault, I suggest a trade. I will help you reach your goal if you help me reach mine. Teach me to survive this blasted competition and I promise that all I know of magic is at your disposal."

Dorothea laughed. "Okay, okay, no need to turn this into the opening of an epic drama. Though... hmm. I think I have an idea of how we're going to present you now. You are actually quite charming in your own way, Hubie. There's no reason to try to cover it up with a fake smile."

Now it was Hubert's turn for skepticism. "Somehow I doubt there is much charm for you to find."

Dorothea waved him off. "Oh hush, you'll see what I mean soon enough. Anyway, we're focusing on your stance right now. Here, take my hand." She stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder and held out the other for him to hold.

He surveyed her in confusion. "Does the contest not require each contestant to be performing alone?"

Dorothea huffed. "Yes, despite the waltz being a couple's dance. It's a silly requirement, really. But right now you're letting your nerves get in the way of your movement. You need to stop being so embarrassed about me watching you. So let's take out the audience factor entirely. There is nobody left to watch if we're both participating, right?"

Hubert sighed as his gloved hand took hers, the other resting lightly on her waist. "Perceptive, as ever."

She grinned up at him. "That's why I'm your teacher. Now, you lead. Teach me to waltz as though it's my first time. I'm a lowly commoner who's never been allowed to join in on such a high class dance before."

Hubert chuckled at her, pulling them into a slow, steady rhythm. Dorothea followed smoothly, exposing her lie for what it was. "Does that work on the brainless nobles you seduce? Pretending to be clueless?"

"Some of them." She smirked, unapologetic. It was harder to match each other's steps without music, but Dorothea was a professional. She adjusted to Hubert's pace, reading his body language well enough to anticipate his steps. "Good. Loosen your grip on my hand a bit. You're directing me, not pulling me like a dog on a leash."

"Quite the analogy."

Her head quirked in an approximation of a shrug. "You'd be surprised how necessary that comparison is. Far too many noblemen can't tell the difference."

"Not as surprised as you might think." He complied with her instruction, letting her hand simply rest in his rather than gripping it.

"Better, but you're still too rigid. You're worrying too much about what I'm doing. Dancing with someone is about trust. Which I know is in short supply with you."

"What gave you that impression?" Hubert tried not to stare down at her feet, certain that he was about to tread on her toes.

"I can't believe I have to tell you this, but my eyes are up here." She laughed at his startled look. "Trust, Hubie! You need to trust me that I know how to keep up with you. And you need to trust yourself. You know these steps, right?"

Hubert studiously kept his eyes on hers, realized his hand had tightened around hers again, and pointedly loosened it. "Knowing and doing are not the same."

Dorothea sighed. "Alright, stop. New plan. I'm cashing in that magic lesson right now."

Hubert let his hands fall away from hers as she stepped back, and tried very hard to keep pace with Dorothea's shifting moods. "I did not realize you were in such a hurry to learn."

"I am now. The wall makes a good enough target, right?" She moved to stand beside him so that they both faced the same direction, with only a wall of bare brickwork ahead of them. "So? What's the most basic Dark magic you know? What's the spell you can cast in your sleep?"

Hubert regarded her. "You are aware that Dark magic and Black magic are quite different, I'm sure. Black magic utilizes the elements, while Dark magic draws on something more internal and primal."

Dorothea sighed impatiently. "I have read chapter one of the textbook, yes, thank you Hubert. Show me anyway."

Hubert puffed out a breath. At least this would be a respite from his stumbling around. "Alright. The simplest Dark attack is Miasma Δ. It goes like this." It was easy. So easy to gather the dark magic in his chest. To draw his hand across his body as he muttered the incantation, feeling the cold sting of power spreading its tendrils down the length of his arm. To flick his fingers outward just as the magic reached them, casually lobbing a sphere of crackling darkness at the bare wall. The impact resonated with the magic's hollow sound, leaving a blackened scorch mark on the bricks. How strange that trying to dance had felt like wading through waist-deep mud, but casting this spell felt like stepping back onto dry land, as light and easy as walking on a summer day.

"Hmm." Dorothea experimentally moved her hand across her chest. "Like this?"

"Palm inward. Arm parallel with the floor." He reached over and tilted her elbow up a few degrees. "You want to draw the magic in toward your hand before you expel it. If you allow your arm to droop, you risk casting at the floor rather than at your target."

Dorothea imitated his movements, right down to a small flourish in her wrist that, strictly speaking, was not a necessary addition to the spell, but that Hubert habitually added on principle. "And your feet? Do you step forward with your right or your left?"

"Always lead with your casting side."

"Right. Of course." She practiced the motions again. Hand across the chest, elbow out, step forward, flick of the wrist. Again and again she repeated the steps, imitating him perfectly without the actual orb of magical darkness firing from her hand. And then she tried it again using the other hand.

"Dorothea, what are you doing?"

Dorothea flicked one hand in front of herself and then another. "What's it look like?"

Hubert crossed his arms. "It looks like you are being very smug."

She grinned, but did not stop her impromptu dance routine, working in much more hip sway than the original spell called for. "Don't I have a right to be? I'm finding all your secrets, Hubie."

He could not help the amused smirk that crossed his face. "I very much doubt that."

"Well I've found one, anyway. You are a good dancer when you're not getting in the way of yourself. We just have to draw it out of you. What is spellcasting other than a very precise dance routine with a purpose?" She did a careless twirl, her hair fanning out around her. It looked so effortless.

"Ah yes, deadly magical force is naught but prancing about." Hubert watched as Dorothea spun the movements he had taught her into an intricate routine that grew with each new iteration. Here he was, betrayed by his own lesson.

She came to a standstill, grinning in triumph. Whereas Hubert felt bedraggled and exhausted by dance, she looked invigorated, her peach skin glistening radiantly. "From now on, we'll warm up our sessions with a magic lesson. It's something you're already confident in, so it'll get you into the mindset you need. Come on now, let's get back to it. We've got lots of time yet before the sun goes down."

Hubert groaned, casting his eyes up at the treacherously clear blue sky, still shining bright with the low evening sun. If only he believed in the Goddess, he might be tempted to beg her to nudge it towards the horizon just a bit faster.

#hubert von vestra #dorothea arnault #black eagles #fanfic #dance of the black heron #indigo's ferdibert got me hyped to finish this part!

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roomofshitposts · 4 years ago

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Thoughts & Opinions on episode 122?

episode 122 came into my house, took all of my bread, and desiccated my crops ,,, what the fuck, like 50 separate things happened and all of them reveal some new shitshow that’s been happening behind the scenes

i’m gonna go over some of the bigger points & my theories around them under the cut

don appeared in the medieval times

okay so there’s two possible ways to see this event: don appeared in tori’s era before he was imprisoned by the shadows, or he manifested there somehow after he was trapped in the ROS.

-> if this happened before his imprisonment, then i think don had started travelling around time to help others with his abilities after attempting to save his family from the anomalies, and gradually grew more corrupt as he tested the limits of his powers, or started losing his mind as things he did in the past started having butterfly-effect style impacts on the future that he had to try and fix over and over.

this could possibly mean that don started a paradox where he himself introduced anomalies to the world by meddling in the past, which amplified the number of anomalies in the present and ultimately looped back to giving him his abilities and killing his family in his original time, though it does still leave a blank as to what exactly started this real-world cycle of anomalies in the first place (who pulled that ‘thread in the fabric of time and space’ don mentioned? how does he even know what happened?).

anyways, don’s interference grew to a point where it had become dangerous to the fabric of reality, so the shadows imprisoned him in a realm beyond time and space, the room of swords, to contain his abilities (perhaps reducing his ability to rewrite reality to be limited to changing one day’s events) or maybe punish him, with the knowledge that by trying to help others, he’d doomed them to becoming anomalies and being imprisoned themselves.

things that point to don being in tori’s era before he got yoinked to space jail: in the flashback where he tries to save his family, he has a mustache (bigger than his current one), and he could have grown that out into a beard as he travelled. he looks pretty damn evil in tori’s memory so maybe at this point he’s pretty much lost it, and he has a full beard, similar to how it looked when he was first shown in the room of swords during the season 1 finale, so maybe this is just about when the shadows took notice and imprisoned him.

-> if this happened after his imprisonment, unlike the above where we can probably assume he started jumping around time soon after he tried to save his family (if he succeeded maybe he felt that he could help others too, if he failed maybe the guilt drove him to try and save others from the same fate), it’s harder to pinpoint when he might’ve manifested into tori’s time.

if we go off of the theory that the ros exists in cycles, repeating its objective with the same (or new) voyagers each time, and the constants are don, the black box holder(gyrus) and the shadows, it’s likely that don somehow got out of the room of swords in an earlier cycle. he used his powers to manipulate reality in tori’s time, and this resulted in her gaining her own abilities as an anomaly, sending her to the room of swords.

maybe don was trapped in the ros for trying to rewrite reality to save his family and was imprisoned by the shadows. thinking this was unfair, he tried to escape, but failed. he then realized that maybe he couldn’t break out, but somehow (i can’t guess what method he managed to use ghfdsjfj), he could still affect the outside world. he started out by wanting to help people and protect them from the anomalies that happened in their era, but this resulted in the people he helped becoming anomalies and they would get trapped in the room of swords as well, both because of their abilities and to remind don to Stop Doing That. this eventually resulted with don slowly losing his mind and morals, hence why he began as such a warm, friendly person, but later showed himself to be so determined to escape the room of swords that he’s willing to kill nephthys and poison hinju.

things that point to don being in tori’s time after he got yoinked to space jail: his harmonica. in the episodes that show events taking place before the main timeline, and most notably in the flashback where don explains how his family died, he’s always shown using a guitar to channel his powers. he’s only started using the harmonica to try and kill nephthys, and only in recent episodes, in the present timeline. maybe the harmonica is an item he found that can channel less power than the guitar, which makes it weaker but much more discreet so that other ‘meta’ beings (shadows and maybe gyrus) don’t notice him slipping out of the ros or using it to switch boss swords with fakes, murder people, etc, and he keeps the harmonica secret and only uses it when he’s doing shady shit.

DON STOLE A FUCKING BABY???? HELLO????? WHAT THE GENUINE FUCK????

i’m going to elaborate on this point later but like what the absolute shit happened there

gyrus is possibly queen amelia’s son (or at least, her descendant)

so like. hi this entire plot point drove the discord nuts

first off, like,,,, gyrus is descended from (presumably) european royalty? i know that toon stated that gyrus was of korean descent and he’s shown to be able to speak in korean but i mean it’s also possible that the foreign king that queen amelia married, was from east asia, and their marriage was entirely out of necessity to lift the curse on her kingdom. the king dipped tf out after the ceremony to rule his own lands.

don took the baby (assuming the baby is gyrus) to gyrus’ era, and this displacement amplified a chain of anomalies that began to deteriorate reality, leading to the world don describes as gyrus’ in episode 109 (’catastrophic anomalies are commonplace’ ‘whole worlds destroyed without warning’). in addition, don notes in the same episode that gyrus had ‘kind relatives that [took him] in and [gave him] a life of comfort’, which means that either his parents died on his home planet, or he’d never known his parents-- which would be the case if he was a baby don sTOLE FROM ANOTHER ERA.

alternatively, the baby isn’t gyrus, but rather they were gyrus’ ancestor, who don brought to a time before gyrus’ era. that displacement started creating disastrous anomalies. gyrus’ parents died on his home planet and his relatives took him in, as per don’s words. gyrus leaves home to become an astronaut and joins captain iro’s crew. bing bang boom

don’s bottle of shadow juice

what the hell even is this. people on the discord have theorized that this is the origin of gyrus’ inner shadow or his black box, but. how did don. get a shadow. in a bottle. as far as i know, he’s unable to influence shadows directly so he can’t sing ‘get in the bottle or else with this shoe i will throttle [you]’, but also the shadows are his jailors, why would a) don help them by giving them a host or b) the shadows help him by complying. do they both think they’re being slick and using the other gfhdjgfdhgh

and if it’s the black box, how did don bottle it. why didn’t he just take it. what is going on.

either way this might be another paradox situation where don found out the origin of gyrus’ shadow abilities/black box/event horizon breaking point and realized he had to take part in getting events to line up so this could happen. so he essentially manipulated reality to ensure that he could get a powerful ally that would hold the black box and defend it from the shadows, and who would be the second constant to appear in the ros (and first voyager), so don could try again and again to gain his trust and get a pawn for his plan against the shadows.

trouble in paradise the black box

ok rip to black box gyrus i really liked him as a character and as a design and he was fun to shitpost about but there’s no goddamn way he’s going to survive this season. he’s been weakened from losing memories and control over the black box, and i’m pretty sure the shadow dragged him off to kill him. plus kodya being yanked back to the black box and the shadows of the people lost during the incident being released means that black box gyrus has either died or lost the command room/a significant amount of control.

and even if it wasn’t for the fact that the situation is pretty much spelling out black box gyrus is doomed, his plot relevance is also wearing out. it’s the same ‘pupil must outgrow their mentor so the mentor dies’ that happened with kodya but this time black box gyrus genuinely has no more purpose to serve after this arc.

like,,, kodya has plot threads (like nephthys and his own backstory) that exist outside of gyrus. black box gyrus does not exist separately from gyrus. anything he can offer to his reset self, can be found in the black box’s memories once he’s done training him, and they’ve unlocked all the beacon memories. just about the last thing bb!gyrus needs to do is reconcile with kodya and relinquish the black box to gyrus, and then all his story points are technically over. that doesn’t mean i don’t want him to stick around, he’s a well-written character and i am bonkers for his stupid emo outfit, but i don’t know why toon would keep him around after setting up all of the shadow-taking-control-of-the-black-box business and bringing current gyrus to this point in the story.

SHADOW CIB I’M SHAKIGN AND CRUING

y’all i know this is irrelevant and i’m just going 👁👁 because it’s cib but it’s CIB and i’m hoping this means that she’ll become a more recurring background character, in shadow form or in flashbacks, since she seems to be really important to ragan and she’s the second voyager. and maybe there’ll be a way to save people from shadow death without gyrus losing all his limbs. god i hope

#room of swords #Anonymous #ask #theory #long post #don #gyrus #black box gyrus #ciboulette #queen amelia #tori #kodya #feel free to add your own two cents in tags/replies

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h-sleepingirl · 5 years ago

Text

EEEHU + Scenes From A Hypnotic Skype Call 3/29/20

This is a writing about my weekend. This is a writing about EEEHU, and a writing about a Skype date. They are very different in tone, but inevitably interconnected. This is a writing I debated on doing -- on how to express it, and whether or not I should share it.This is a writing that starts very hard, but gets easier.

I was a part of two classes on Saturday. I thought that would be easy; I had been kicking myself for not submitting more and was very close to deciding to put on an unconference class.

It was not easy.

I didn't sleep well that night, and haven't been sleeping well in general. Since shifting my work, I felt like my sleep should be pretty stable, since I work on my own schedule now. But I've been staying up late and waking up early. It's a bad pattern, and it was the second day in a 5hr sleep cycle.

I was already drained, and I had a lot to juggle to get everything running smoothly Saturday morning. It was taxing and I was exhausted. I was snapping at stupid things, uncharacteristically. I kept saying, with forced glee, "It's just like a real con! I'm sleep deprived and stressed!"

But once we got started, the first class with MrDream went well, and I enjoyed it. The audience was incredibly generous towards both him and me. I was so pleased at how many people were getting information and how many people said that they loved my trance face, although I had to force down a little bit of juvenile bitterness that we couldn’t just monopolize the class with play and go as hard as we usually do. There were 140ish people in the class -- a lot. We did Q&A to wrap up, and then I had to run to do tech testing for the podcast.

What I couldn’t do was give MrDream a hug after the class. What I couldn’t do was walk down the hotel hallway to see him and decompress. What I couldn’t do was hang around and chat with attendees in the lobby and in the con spaces.

I felt that immensely, stinging, but I had to push it down, because I had more to do.

The podcast, despite some inevitable technical issues, went well enough. By that point, I was feeling incredibly drained, and hadn’t been able to eat more than some yogurt for the majority of the day because of feeling crappy from not sleeping. It went for 2 hours -- very long, and we had no breaks. I was on autopilot. I had a good time, but felt almost dissociated, far away from myself.

I turned off the meeting, and I was suddenly in my bed, alone, just with cc, waiting for the audio to save.

I could not go see MrDream. I could not go see my friends. I could not get a hug. I could not text someone to ask where the party was and then stay up until 4am doing hypnosis and talking bullshit.

I started crying -- not weeping, not choking out tears, but wailing, hard crying.

It was the build-up of nearly a month of not processing that life, right now, is different. I cannot see my loved ones. I cannot see my community. EEEHU was a monstrous effort by its organizers which I applaud, and am so dearly happy that so many people enjoyed it, but for me, it was a harsh reminder that it was not a con in the way that I needed, and that I will not get that in the foreseeable future.

And I can’t see MrDream.

Our 2-year dating anniversary was just over a week ago. We would have had a date, riled up from not seeing each other for a month, meeting near the vernal equinox, the change of seasons having become important to us. And then we would have seen each other at NEEHU, a week later.

Now I don’t know when I will see him again.

After keeping that fact so distant from myself, taking one day at a time, I was slapped in the face by it.

I cried. I cried so hard. I have not cried like that in months, maybe a year. It was the rawness of isolation, the feeling of tragedy, of separation.

After a few minutes of it, I stopped, because I didn’t want to dig myself into a hole I couldn’t get out of. I saw myself in a mirror, and saw the mascara running in streaks down my face -- an effect I’ve tried hard to achieve for kink and in scenes for my partners who enjoy tears.

I took out my phone and snapped a picture -- the picture I take for MrDream every day of myself when I feel particularly brainwashed. If this wasn’t such a clear sign of how brainwashed, how dependent, how addicted, how in love I am, then I don’t know what is.

He responded well.

I went to bed early, feeling like I had immensely screwed up in everything the entire day. Again I had trouble sleeping, but I was comforted by the knowledge that I would talk to MrDream on Skype, and woke up feeling still drained, but less raw.

Our call was, of course, what I needed.

It was not the kind of call where we dove headfirst into trance. We spent time decompressing and talking, the sort of relaxed conversation I’ve missed so much since not having long time together.

But when he shifted his tone, when I saw his eyes change so subtly, I felt it all, and I felt everything melt away, helpless to it.

This trance is so overwhelming, the lowness of his voice, the feather-light touch of it makes me feel as though this is so much more powerful than aggression, as though I am a fluid which yields so much more softly when given the most gentle pressure, and how weak I feel to that.

He talks about how I can feel myself melting into him and suddenly I feel it, I feel the way his body feels. How much he wants me. How much when even I think about him from far away, he feels it, unconsciously, the force of our connection, we can smell each other, we know the weight of each others’ bodies.

Sinking into him. Filled with him. Empty. Deep.

Going through vivid memories of us together, flashbacks to dates that I suddenly am able to access more effectively.

I weep in trance at how precious that is. I weep while aroused as he controls me, even as I feel myself totally slipping away. The tears stop quickly, leaving me with his control.

He is calling back to the podcast that I know he was there to listen to, using my words, using my ideas, the recognition that he is always paying attention.

When he snaps me up, I am a hypnotized wreck, I can’t talk. He has to snap me up again.

“My shoulders are doing the thing,” I say, smiling, finally. “My brain is doing the thing.”

Loosened, relaxed.

We talk about how much we miss each other. He future paces gently about what it will be like when we finally see each other. I cry a little bit again, and it’s the first time I’ve acknowledged this thing with tears in front of him.

We banter Erickson at each other -- our ultimate love language.

I’m amazed how quickly I fall away when his flirting shifts intent just slightly. I have been going deeper, I have been going away so much further and faster.

He turns me into a cow, all body, no brain, taking over everything. Dumb cow braincells making me all mouth, all pussy, all tits. Calling back to my fey memories, how holographic they are.

Flashback to his apartment and cumming on top of him.

“Feeling the way the light feels,” he says, and it triggers the exact memory of my thought, in his room, when he took something away from me permanently -- ‘I will never forget the way the light looks in this room at this moment.’

“And then fading away even from this much comprehension into the deepest trance.”

Just hypnosis, just mind control. The absolute feeling of that, the way it drugs me.

I am so close to nothing, he is draining me away… Again I have that sense that if he just pushes a little more, I would go, something would happen, I would be totally gone forever… Again, I flash back to another date, the solstice that I did not share, and how close I was…

“You’ve always been a dumb little girl, wanting this so badly…”

Another flashback…

And he wakes me up, and I just stare at him. He makes a whooshing sound.

“Boy, do I miss this,” he says, all low, so turned on. “Gonna shred you so bad.”

I say his name.

“I’m… somewhere,” I manage, softly.

“Me too,” he says.

I’m so completely focused on his face, so completely keyed into his expression, his eyes, just like I would be if we were together, just like I’ve been learning how to do over Skype after all this time.

“Are we just going to spend 15 minutes staring at each other now?” I whisper, locked onto him.

“If we were alone, do you think we would?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say quietly.

We fix on each other, silently, and it is just like we are.

He makes another whooshing sound, and it breaks, and we both laugh a little.

“Well,” he says, “that was two minutes.”

“As if a candle can tell that it’s melting.”

I become an object, melting itself, lit by him, finally no longer a person, finally even more easy to exist as a vessel for his control.

“As if you are a candle in the dark night, dripping wax into your hand, thinking about spells and magic…”

Flashback to Samhain, and the frustration.

“Who we are when we are alone, when we are together, even if there are people around, no matter where, we are always in this other world where magic is happening to us both. Knowing we are always connected, knowing we always have this thing, and no one can stop it.”

Flashback to DMDW.

Flashback to flashbacks of DMDW.

Weeping, again, in deep, deep trance, feeling the magic bubble in my body and bubble where the air meets my skin, just for this one moment, so long since I’ve felt it and never over distance like this -- the magic that I will always question, the magic that seems unquestionable when I feel it and then dreamlike, it fades...

He counts me up, and I feel a tightness, and before 5, I whisper his name and ask to stay here, at 4.

I have looked at the picture of myself ever so often. The enormous emotional outpouring feels more distant now, and more manageable, but I don’t ever want to forget how hard that day was for me. I don’t ever want to take things for granted ever again.

It makes me so happy that I was able to have meaningful conversations and input at EEEHU, and help people learn, and watch people having fun. I wish I could have been more present, but I know I was doing the right thing by being at home, and not “at the con."

The hypnosis community is so incredibly important to me. I dedicated my first book to it, and surely I will do the same with my next. I believe I was meant to be here. If I believed in destiny, which I do not, I would say that it has been my destiny since I was a tiny little girl, confused and barely conscious of myself.

All I have to say is this: Take care of yourselves. Stay strong, but know you will fail sometimes. Cry. Laugh. Keep in touch.

I will be here.

@hypnokinkwithmrdream

#my writing #eeehu #neehu2020 #hypnosis #hypnokink

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saundraswriting · 5 years ago

Text

Interior Design Chapter 2: Arrival

SUMMARY:You get to the Compound. You get a run down of what you are begin offered. You get the promised tour and meet-N-greet, and make a fool of yourself. But this is your dream job.

WARNINGS: NONE

NOTES:This is an everyone lives/no one dies, Living in the compound, Non Civil War compliant, No Sokovian Accords AU.

Previous / Next

At exactly 2pm a broad man with some facial hair opened the door to the car that had just pulled in front of you. "Ms. L/N. I am your driver, call me Happy. I am to drive you upstate to the Compound." He helped you in and tucked your bags into the trunk.

"Hello then, Happy. Call me Y/N. Thank you for the ride." You were trying to hide your nerves behind your manners.

"There are drinks back there if you want. Beyond that sit back and relax." Happy said pulling into the never-ending rush of traffic. You sat quiet, prepared for the slow-moving endeavor that was driving through NYC but Happy moved through alleys and side streets to move through and around the traffic, having seemed to memorizer the traffic light timing. It was impressive.

"Are you sure that you don't have some sort of driving enhancements?" You asked your companion.

"No. I just have spent too many years running errands for Mr. Stark." Happy said. He looked up at you through the rear-view mirror. "Not that you are an errand or anything."

"Happy, that is exactly what I am. Thank you though. I am not exactly on Mr. Stark's priority list to have him come and see me." You tried to ease his concern. You turn to look out the window and gape, Happy had some how driven you out of the city and on your way truly to the Avenger's Compound. You wanted to push on the Driving enhancement but kept it to yourself.

"Oh my. I am really going. I'm doing this." You muttered to yourself.

"Y/N, they are just people. Yes, super enhanced or gifted but still people. People who want a place where they can be themselves. You see superheroes? I see tired people with super burdens." Happy said. "Now, relax."

Happy's advice helped significantly to calm you down. It was something to remember, you were helping them make their house a home. Someplace for them to turn off. You pulled out your tablet and pulled up your designing program to open a new project. You had a kitchen, living room, media room and about a dozen bedrooms in the project. The rooms were customizable to an extent but you chose to work with what was provided. It was simple but effective to help plan layouts of things. You added comments on each room of things you would need to look at or plan for. The kitchen and pantry needed to support the massive appetites that the team would have and each bedroom needed to be assigned for better focus. You did layout some basic things like beds and end tables such. You knew everyone would like it different, but you figured the rooms would be almost exactly the same build. After about 90 minutes of basic fiddling you saved it.

"Y/N, we are just about there. I believe in you. The idea of what you need to do seems scary and overwhelming but you'll figure everything out in time." Happy said. The car pulled onto a hidden road and you watched as it followed the curves and bends as a gate rose up to meet them. Happy pulled into what seemed the front of the building and helped you out of the car and grabbed your bags.

The two of you entered the empty foyer. "Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you tell Pep and Tony we're here? And do you know where Ms. L/N will be staying?" Happy spoke to the open room.

"I already did. They are on the way. Ms. L/N is located in room 12." A disembodied Irish voice rang out.

"Well, you heard the robot lady. I'll leave you here for Tony and Pepper. I will drop your bags off. F.R.I.D.A.Y, introduce yourself. Y/N, it was a pleasure meeting you." Happy took your bags and headed off down the hall leaving you alone and nervous.

"Ms. L/N, I am F.R.I.D.A.Y. I am a artificial intelligence system designed and maintained by Tony Stark. I run the Living Areas for the Avengers and the Iron Man Suits." The voice spoke once more. You looked around for a camera or speaker to speak to but couldn't find one so you looked to the ceiling.

"Oh, nice to meet you Ms. F.R.I.D.A.Y. Please call me Y/N." You told the ceiling.

"Very well, Ms. Y/N. Welcome to the Avenger's Compound." She responded.

Oh, good you two already met. You turned at the voice of Tony Stark.

"Come on, we can continue this in my office." A willowy red-head was with him, who you correctly assumed to be Pepper Potts.

The three of you walked to her office while making small talk. Tony asked about your education and where you came from. You told them about your suspicions of Happy's driving enhancements. The two others laughed and Tony agreed with you. When you finally arrived at Pepper's office, you sat in front of it, her behind it and Tony leaned against it.

"This is going to be a quick as I can make it but there is a lot to cover. First, the contract is a long-term non-exclusive for your benefit. This is just to start, if you chose to extend it then we would make you a permanent employee. You will have to sign Non-Disclosure agreements since you will be dealing directly with the Avengers. You will have the time and means to work with you current and future clientele like I said before. Your current place of living is also your center of operations but we could move all that here for you if you would rather. The contract itself is for the initial decorating for the personal and common living areas for the Avengers. Then also the major holidays and change in seasons or trends or any requests of the Avengers. We would also have you on for light maintenance and housekeeping mostly for when the Avengers aren't around, like vacuuming and changing a lightbulb. if you see something in disrepair either fix it, put in a work order or order new. We do have a team for more particular fixes, and the team takes care of a lot on their own as it." Pepper explained. You nodded along and made some jotted down some notes.

"What about supplies? Payment? Limitations? Labor?" You asked. Pepper smiled slightly, secretly pleased at your questions, you were thinking, that was good.

"We pay for everything. You have full rein, there are no limitations. Pardon the rooms, that is where you would work with each resident. WE are at your beck and call for anything you would need help with." Tony took over the explanation. "I will be completely honest. I want you to accept this contract, move in entirely and then extend your contract to be a permanent employee. I want that because I like you and I know that everyone else will but we can revisit that later." Tony said. Pepper handed over a copy of the contract. you placed it in your bag and jotted down Tony's comments

"Alright, then I will review this tonight and think about it. I don't like to make decisions in haste but I will tell you that I have no doubts about this. I am attracted to every single part of this including moving in fully. I only am worried about how I would get to and from the city, I make a lot of trips." You told them.

"So do we. Most days we make a trip to the city. But you can always borrow a car and head in. The Tower is SI's still you can park there and do your thing. A minor detail." Tony said. You nodded and shrugged, it was a minor detail. "Now we are going to go. I want to show you around and have you meet one or two people. I will be your personal tour guide while Ms. Potts runs my company." Tony pushed off of the desk and you took it as your cue to go. You held a hand out to Ms. Potts.

"Thank you Ms. Potts. I am grateful for the opportunity." You followed Tony out the door waving to the already busy woman as you left.

You followed Tony to the elevator and down several hallways. He talked a mile a minute about everything, you weren't even trying to keep up. You were sure he just liked to hear himself talk. You tried to learn the layout but you weren't sure. It seemed that the common areas he was leading you to were in the center of the right side of the 'A'. The personal areas seemed to stack on top of that point fanning out.

"So the first level is mostly common areas. Gym and pool and such, the living room, kitchen, pantry the size of a small country, all are down here. Then the next level is the second level is rooms, they kind of fan away from the common areas in groups of 5. The all lead to the small inclines that meet around the living room...like a funnel?" Tony tried to explain.

"Oh, so everything is connected but also has its definition? Good idea to help go from mission to home mentality." You commented. Tony snapped his fingers.

"I knew I like you. Sorry it is a little bit of a walk, Pepper's office is on the SI side, near SHIELD. We are almost there." Tony said. You nodded. "I also had F.R.I.D.A.Y put better more accurate blueprints on your tablet and laptop. So you can better plan. I figured then you can use your app to better prepare the rooms." Tony seemed hesitant. You wanted to be mad but it actually was a help more than a hinderance.

"I don't mind. That helps a lot, but maybe next time ask?" You said. Tony seemed to relax. You knew that he had your entire history but you knew that Tony wanted to help his team and protect them so you weren't upset that much about the privacy invasion.

"Very well. Now, your domain ma'am is everything you see before you. Welcome to the Avenger's Living Quarters Ms. Quartermaster L/N!" Tony waved his arm in a large sweeping motion. You were facing the living room from a behind diagonal, near the kitchen. The floor was an open floor plan. You could see beyond the kitchen was a long hallway. There was a door next to the kitchen, you assumed it was the country-sized pantry. The Living room was a large entertainment area. The kitchen and living room were divided by several couches-or one massive sectional-and on each side of the living room was a slight incline into what you assumed were the bedrooms.

Oh, it is nice." You said. You pointed to each point and Tony confirmed your thoughts, You nodded and beamed. There was nothing done to the space other than the bare minimum. A fresh clean slate with free rein. "I think I have some ideas." You clapped excitedly gathering the attention of the few people in the room. You froze seeing them see you.

"Hello! I am Y/N L/N. I am interviewing to be your Quartermaster. I am in charge of decorating your living spaces." you grinned and waved childishly.

"Oh! We talked about this this the other day. When we asked about who to contact, F.R.I.D.A.Y brought you up as did Pepper." A large blonde blue-eyed man came up to you. You knew the Avengers had gotten new members but you lost track around 2016 or so. Even so, you knew Captain Rogers. You knew that he and Tony had been fighting over his best friend the brain-washed assassin who had killed Tony's parents. but most of the others had fallen through the cracks. "Let me introduce these couch potatoes." Steve led you to the couch, Tony trailing behind. "This is Sam Wilson, Air Force paratrooper, AKA the Falcon. This is Clint Barton, Archery expert and 80% deaf, AKA Hawkeye. This is Natasha Romanov, Super-spy aka Black Widow."

"Hey there, girlie. Welcome to the team." Sam said.

"Well, I haven't accepted yet. There is a lot to consider." You shrugged.

"If you are here, meeting us. You've accepted." A deep voice rasped from the entryway to your right closest to the kitchen. You turned to face them and your breath caught in your throat. His hair was long, greasy and clumpy, his skin pale and dry, the bags under his eyes were deep, and his scruff was unruly. The man made his way into the kitchen barely looking at you.

"Sh. Don't say that too loud. I haven't told Tony yet." You stepped over to the kitchen, you head tilted in curiosity. Steve reached out to grab you but you ducked out of the way. You knew who this man was, you knew everyone considered him dangerous, but he looked so sad and tired. You wanted to try to help. "Sargent Barnes? Thank you, for serving your country all those years ago in the 107th. I am sorry you had to suffer so very much to get here. and well..."You trailed off and lurched into his space before your courage gave out. "Welcome home, solider." you mumbled into his chest squeezing as tight as you could. You felt him freeze under you and you let go instantly. You had pushed a massive line and didn't want to make it worse. You knew a hug wouldn't fix him but it might help in that very moment. You stepped away and saw Sargent Barnes was indeed frozen, looking at you with a mix of awe and relief on his face. His eyes were overly wet and his arms were raised like he didn't know if he should wrap them around you or push you away. You didn't wait for him to thaw before hurrying to Tony's side.

"Mr. Stark, Sargent Barnes was right. I will take the job. Also Captain Rogers, you should get him a plant or two. Coming from someone extremely depressed and still struggles with it, plants help. Something that depends on you to live without major consequences can do wonders for mental health. Sargent Barnes needs to care for something, now that he no longer has to protect you Mr. Super-solider." You tugged on Tony's sleeve realizing that you stepped over the line immensely, the embarrassment and anxiety causing you to shrink on yourself. Tony took the hint and pulled you down the opposite hallway Sargent Barnes came out of. You looked behind you one time to see Steve and Bucky locked in a hug both of them crying silently. The wall then blocked your line of sight.

Previous / Next

*******************************************************************************************

Hello! I am an idiot who thought the key to happiness was another WIP. Let me know what you think!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #protective Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x interior designer! reader #bucky barnes in recovery #recovered bucky barnes #avengers family #domestic avengers #avengers fanfiction #saundrasays #saundraswriting #Interior Design the fic

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catchlalune · 5 years ago

Text

My Dearest Rose

a/n: hello again my starbursts! I hope quarantine is treating you well, please don’t forget to keep practicing social distancing! In the next installment of fics I may never finish writing is one very dear to me, I was having soooo much fun writing it but admittedly lost my steam. There are a lot of errors that I haven’t fixed and though the plot was thought out it was not completed in its entirety (obvi) it was maybe about 55% complete? But please give me some feedback and tell me if you like this style of song fic! (Also the very end is supposed to be very close to the very end of the story, I jumped around a bit whilst writting it!)

Pairing: Kim Woosung x Reader

Word Count: 3012

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Fantasy! Au, Cinderella! Au (Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella to be more precise)

Warnings: mentions of minor character death

The sweetest sounds I’ll ever hear are still inside my head

The kindest words I’ll ever know are waiting to be said

The most entrancing sight of all is yet for me to see, and the dearest love in all the world is waiting somewhere for me

The first time you meet him it is down by the public shoppes. He’s someone you’ve never met before and someone you are sure you’d remember due to the color of his hair, golden like inside of an iris’s petals.

His eyes were so brown and so kind you had trouble responding to him when he spoke to you.

“Miss? Are you alright?” You have to blink several times for his words to register in your head and when they do, you jolt and quickly look to the ground.

“Yes, I think so.” You finally speak up as you gather the packages that were dropped when you were trying to not be trampled by the majestic horses and the beautiful blue carriage embroidered with the most astonishing golden detailing.

“Those royals, never caring if they’re in someone’s way.” He comments as he begins to stack the packages for you and you quickly take them from him.

“Oh, I’m sure they were going somewhere very important.” you reply sheepishly He doesn’t seem to buy that but gives you a gentle smile nonetheless.

“Important enough to almost run someone over? I’m not sure about that.” He remarks, with a telling smile. You stop for a second just to think over his words, your brows furrowing as you turn from him.

“Well, thank you, thank you very much.” You thank him meekly remembering you really are in a hurry, but before can make your getaway he frantically follows you.

“Wait, what’s your name?” He asks, questioningly. You weren’t inclined to answer but you did nonetheless.

“(Your name)? I like it.” The smile he gives you is charming, fit for a prince you think.

“It grows on you I guess, if you’ll excuse me I really must deliver these now.” You can hear the fatigue in your voice as you say that and you turn to leave again but he continues to follow.

“I can help! I do wish to speak to you some more and figure out what a man would need to learn in order to get in your good graces.” He says cheerfully and he takes the heaviest boxes from your arms before you can think about protesting. He just sets off in the direction you were headed.

“Well, I suppose I should know the name of the man that would like to know. And why he might be so adamant in helping out a girl he’s just met.” You sass as you jog after him.

“Let’s just say that he’s” a charming stranger.” He chuckles out, smirking.

“How charming can he be if he won’t answer a simple enough question as his name?” You ask as you stray away from him for a moment to drop off a package to the baker’s wife who was waiting outside of the bakery for you. She greets you with a wide smile and a warm muffin freshly baked. She sends you off with well wishes and a Tell your father thank you!

“How well do you know the people of this town?” You jump a little at the voice of the strange man to your left.

“I’d feel more obligated to answer once I know how to address you.” You shrug. He laughs and shakes his head.

“I thought I would be able to get away with not telling you but I concede. My name is Woosung.” He says pleasantly

“I’m not sure why you wouldn’t want to tell me if you want to help me but alright, it’s a pleasure to meet you Woosung.” You say almost dropping a box.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” He replies smoothly. You want to smile at that but cover it up with a shift of the packages in your arms.

“So it is.”

With the help of Woosung you were able to get the deliveries done much faster than anticipated. Though he was a little strange and a bit over eager he was kind enough to help you with your task and see it through to the end. You decided it best to reward him by sharing half of your muffin with him.

“It is much better when it’s still warm and with a glass of cold milk. My mother always thought so anyway.” You comment, remembering. He perks up at that while mumbling the question you so dreaded hearing with a mouthful of muffin, his stuffed cheeks making him look like a woodland creature.

“Thought so?”

“Yes, she passed when I was five. I remember bits and pieces but not everything.” You say. His shoulders slump and he gives you a sympathetic look.

He replies. “I apologize for asking.” You were glad he didn’t say he was sorry for her passing, for you never really knew what to say after that in a conversation.

“There’s no need for an apology. I’ve learned to live with it now, my father had a girlfriend a couple years past and she was nice at first. Until she wanted me to call her mother then she got very mean. She made me do all the chores around the house alone and then at the end of the day would make me sleep in front of the fireplace as her two daughters took my room.” You state, seemingly unhappy with it.

“And your dad did nothing to stop it?” There was anger simmering underneath his tone.

“He wasn’t around often. He may have been around for a week at a time before leaving for business trips. Until one day I begged him to stay or to take me with him and then he questioned why. My stepmother and sisters left very promptly after that.” Is what you respond.

“What do you do now?” He asks,with eyes that seem to be hanging off your every word.

“Now I work with him. We moved towns after that and we are actually fairly new here. We own the flower shoppe right down there.” You point to the shop on the far side of the square that sat on the corner of the road. The bench two of you sat on having the perfect view of the quaint little store.

“I’m not sure why I told you all this. But I think it probably has to do with having the same old routine all the time.” You continue.

“I understand that. Working tirelessly day in and day out doing the same old thing. It is nice to do something out of the ordinary once in a while.” He nods looking up at the clouds that lazily passed by. You were glad that at least someone could understand you.

“Well, what about you?” Your question seems to startle him.

“M-me?” Was that a stutter? He seemed so confident a moment ago. “My story is not very interesting. Just a boring family living in a boring place surrounded by boring people doing boring tasks.” He sounded a bit bitter about it.

“That does seem a bit uninteresting.” You remark, letting it go for now, allowing the silence to settle comfortably over you both. Well, as silent as the ambience of the busy town square would allow. When the sun begins to lull he stands and stretches looking much like a cat, the thought makes you giggle and he grins in your direction.

“Leaving so soon, Prince Charming?” He blinks at you, a bit startled. “You act so gentlemanly, it is something befitting of a prince.” You tease.

He shakes his head at this. “Oh hardly m’lady, I am not deserving of such a title.” He tilts his head then a small frown adorning his lips. They were a pretty pink color like that of a peach-colored rose. You then wonder. “Will I see you again?”

“Perhaps, if you are ever in need of a bouquet.” He says smiling at you again, always such a dazzling occurrence.

“I will make sure to need one in the future. Then, I’ll be going first.” Woosung says, you nod at him a small wave after until he turns his back and disappears down the cobblestone walkway.

When you turn to make your back way to the store, your best friend stands before you a question in his eyes and his arms folded across his chest.

“Oh! Dojoon, you nearly frightened me to death.” You squeak out, the hand over your heart could hardly calm its frantic beating.

“Who was that?” He questions. You weren’t sure why but the tone in his voice had you a bit miffed. He was a nosy man but all in good faith. He was the first person you bonded with in town after landing a job in your store and you two were basically attached to the hip ever since. Usually you two would take turns delivering and working in the store, often alternating between the tasks. He probably set out to find you after you took longer than usual to get back.

“A charming stranger, that’s all.” You said, opening the door to your store, not really caring too much if it hits him as it shuts.

“He has a name, doesn’t he?” He pushes. Dojoon had no trouble keeping up with your shorter strides.

“Who has a name?” Your father's voice makes you jump for the third time that day.

“No one, papa. How were the sales today?” You say, diverting the conversation.

The attempt to change the subject worked well in your favor as your father and Dojoon were easily distracted by telling you animated stories of the days events. You only listened half heartedly, in the back of your mind you hoped -though a strange thought-that you would be able to meet the charming man once again.

♧♧♧

After that encounter, Woosung came back the next day, and then the next, always incredibly charming and princely. The two of you spent so much time together you hardly noticed the changing of the seasons, summer turning to autumn, autumn to winter, the chill of the snow bidding its farewell when spring came and nestled its way into the trees, breathing life back into the nature around you.

The two of you often spent time working together, if he didn’t help you with deliveries then he was helping your father with business matters or Dojoon with tending the flowers. If anyone enjoyed Woosung’s company more than you it was Dojoon. He was certainly skeptical at first until he met him and then they bonded well over their common interests in black roses and music.

“Aye, did you all hear? The prince is giving a ball!” One of your regulars Mr. Windsong informs you with a bright smile. You notice Woosung stiffen next to you but you choose not to say anything about it.

“Oh is he? I’m sure that will be very nice for the royals.” You reply to him flippantly, you weren’t very interested in the affairs of the rich.

“You should be more interested,” Mr. Windsong motions for you to lean in so he can whisper in your ear,you humor him if only to get him to leave. “I hear he is to be picking a princess. Any lady he sees fit to marry so all of the eligible young woman in the land are invited.”

“Trying to marry my daughter off are you?” You giggle at your father’s grand entrance bringing with him the lingering smell of cherry blossoms from the outside.

“Oh no papa, he was just telling me about the ball the Prince is holding.” You watch as your father raises his brows and hands off a couple packages to Woosung to put away.

“Oh the I heard about that too, apparently his parents want to marry him off. A little strange if you ask me, the King isn’t even past his prime yet.” The wind chimes tinkle as Dojoon steps in and Mr. Windsong steps out bidding everyone a farewell.

“Perhaps his parents just want what is best for him.” The three of you turn your heads to Woosung whose mouth is slightly turned downwards.

“Perhaps, but regardless it has nothing to do with me,” You get up from your perch behind the register and pick up a watering can to water some yellow carnations. “I have no interest in marrying a prince, let alone one I don’t know. Don’t you think marrying someone you hardly know is barbaric? What’s the use of marriage if not to marry someone you love?” You remark.

“Well we don’t know if the prince is being forced into it, he could not be.” Woosung adds, smiling at you but you sigh shaking your head slightly.

“I’m not talking about the prince, I’m talking about the women. Why are we expected to just fall in love at the drop of a dime? Who cares if you’re a prince or a common man if you just expect us to just fall at the mention of fame and fortune?” You rebuttal.

If there was one thing Woosung was not expecting it was that. Your words caused his skin to flush, they were so cold.

“Now dear, not all men are the same.” Sensing the tension your father steps between the two of you and Dojoon lets out a loud boisterous laugh.

“Honestly, papa. I’m as mild and as meek as mouse, whenever someone gives me a command I obey. But the idea of being forced into marriage infuriates me. I loathe it, what am I to do if the one I marry forces me into it to? Will I ever get to be myself?” You question.

“Listen to me dear, I will not let that happen. No one will ever force you into anything ever again, not even me.” Your father sets a warm palm on your shoulder as reassurance and you nod at him.

“I know, I just get scared sometimes thinking of life outside this shop. What if when you pass I’m married off to some evil man? Money does the worst things to people papa.” You can hear the “emotion” in your voice.

You watch as Dojoon steps forward with a crooked smile and shakes his head. “What am I chopped liver? I thought we made a pact that if you weren’t to be married by the time of your father’s passing that we’d-”

“Why are we speaking as if I’m about to meet the undertaker?” Your father interrupts, his question makes both you and Dojoon laugh.

“Not at all sir!” Dojoon says, face flushed from laughing.

“It’s just, mama passed out of nowhere it seemed and if that were to happen to you too well I..I wouldn’t know what to do.” You prune at a patch of Forget-Me-Not’s as you say this, you vaguely remember your mother being fond of the baby blue blooms.

☆☆☆☆

"I yearn for you, for your soft glances and your approval. I have never known a feeling quite like this, I only wish for you to extinguish the fire inside me. Please, tell me you care for me too."

You can't help but look at him from his confession, affairs of the heart were not something you were well versed in. But you'd be lying if you said his presence didn't alight a fire in you and snuff it out all at once. Its the tenderness of his voice and the way the moon reflects off the water on to his face that makes your breath quicken, at least that's what you tell yourself.

"You know I care for you."

"But do you care for me? Does me being a prince make a difference? Tell me now, and I won't ever bother you again but you have to speak to me. Please do not shut me out." Woosung sounds desperate and you cant help feeling it's your fault for making him this way.

The two of you sit there for a long while, him waiting patiently and you staring at the way the moon hits the water. You want to say it, want to speak your truth but admission is so hard and you are so weary. Regardless of the passage of time Woosung never moves from your side, he remains even when the chirping of early morning birds can be heard. He knows you, he understands.

"I- I wish to-" Your voice comes out hoarse but Woosung doesn't seem to mind, he just hangs on every last word.

When you turn to him you can see the adoration in his eyes, it was always there sparkling and bright. You could always feel it, the way he seemed to find your gaze in a crowded room always. The way with which he spoke to you, soft and steady. The way with which he bore his heart to you, slow with no pressure. It is all you can think about before pressing your lips to his in a kiss that would make Aphrodite squeal.

The touch of his lips on yours is so right, he melts into it but does not move to make it go any further. It is languid and full of the emotions you both can not hope to ever put into words. It is full of the longing and of two beating hearts that call out for each other. Even then he remains as he always has.

"Charming."

"My dearest love, you are the charming one. And I will always be right here for you." He speaks the words like the whisper of a song as he taps the spot on the left side of your breast where you can feel a hammering.

It's clear to you now that from the very moment you met at the shoppes all those seasons ago that he had always been for you, waiting and patient.

#the rose #the rose fluff #the rose angst #kprosenet #kim woosung fluff #kim woosung angst #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kim woosung

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varibean · 5 years ago

Text

Would You, Could You, Say ‘I Do’?

here’s a fanfiction inspired by the wonderful artwork by @fluttytheflutt here! it’s wedding time! hope y’all enjoy!

In previous stages of his life, when Sam I-Am thought about his future, marriage was never part of it. He was a romantic, somewhat at least. Having never gotten to experience romance first hand he couldn’t really say for sure but he liked the idea. The notion that somewhere there was a person just for him who would vow to never leave him behind, to always stay by his side, was enticing to put it plainly. But he never thought it was an actuality. The thought had never crossed his mind that such a life could be for him.

His life was anything but consistent and marriage was the most steadfast constant of it all in addition to-as his elders always said-death and taxes. But he’d cheated death and he didn’t pay his taxes so that was already two down.

Everything was always moving; his jobs, his home, his identity. Never in his life was he one person for two long. It started to make him sick if he was. Every new persona was fun at first but in the back of his mind there was always the thought, the fear that if he stayed as one person too long he would find out a terrible truth: He didn’t like the person he had become.

So he jumped and switched from fake ID to fake ID, only staying for the fun part. Nothing more, nothing less.

And then there was Guy. His Guy. His wonderful, amazing, perfect Guy who could do so many amazing things and came up with the most incredible ideas. Suddenly, with Guy, he wasn’t scared of being the same person anymore. He didn’t have to fear who he would be because whoever he was, Guy was going to be there too.

For a while it was just a promise of words. Nothing binding or set in stone, just the knowledge that Guy would always be there for him, that he liked him just the way he was. Sam thought that would be enough. They didn’t need to take the next steps forward because why risk the unknown when life was so comfortable as it was?

Then came the night that Guy took him on a small hometown cold air balloon. And there among the clouds just barely scraping above the roofs of the houses below them, Guy got down on one knee.

The ring wasn’t terribly special; just a silver band with the tiniest emerald in the middle, the green hue sparkling in the moonlight like a cosmos seen from a far off telescope. What could Sam do but say yes?

Up there, away from the world with just the two of them, the words seemed so easy to say. Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes! They spilled from his mouth like the crack of a perfectly runny yolk and he never thought anything in the world could taste as good as green eggs and ham but then Guy kissed him as the fog of the night drifted by him and he knew that some things just existed beyond compare or dispersion.

Everything was easier up in the air. But all things had to come back down to earth eventually.

The dressing room he stood in was lit up like a mall during the holiday season. On their own Sam and Guy couldn’t afford much but as there luck would have it the rest of the Am-I family wanted to pitch in for the youngest golden child. The bruckles poured in from Mr. and Mrs. Am-I and Guy’s brothers and no expense had been spared on setting everything up for the two. The venue, the flowers, the food; all if it five star and perfect in every way.

And of course, above all else, the dress.

The long and wide floor to ceiling mirror in the dressing room reflected the fabric back perfectly. If one were to spare it only a glance, it could be said that the dress was simple. The cut was a flower bud covered boat neck, showing off the slight dip of his collar before fading into a near sheer sleeve design. Crystals were sewn into the fabric, making his arms sparkle under the lights. The dress itself had a ribboned waist that showed off his slight form before fanning out as the rest of the dress poofed around him. It wasn’t overly fluffy, but it was well fitted and flowy. Plenty of room to move while still looking elegant.

Was he elegant?

Staring in the mirror, Sam wasn’t so sure. Elegant was never a word he thought of when he considered himself in a physical sense. Short, slender, rounded; those were words that described him. But beautiful? Radiant? Elegant? All the things he was told someone to marry should be? He wasn’t quite sure.

“Sam? It’s almost time. Do you have the veil on?” Michellee’s voice echoed in the near empty room.

For such a large and grand dressing room, there really wasn’t anyone else needed to get him into the dress. The lingering con-artist in him thought of money and how easy a wedding scam could go off. But he quickly shook his head at the thought before he ran his hands over his face.

“Yeah I’m-I mean no, I haven’t put it on yet I was just...uh-”

“Nervous?” Michellee offered with a smirk.

Sam opened his mouth to object but then realized it was useless to do so. He was trying not to lie as much, to be more honest with himself.

“Maybe, just an itty-bitty-teeny-weeny-itsy-bitsy smidgen of a smidge. Like, half a smidge. No, strike that, one twenty-seventh of a smidge.”

Michellee laughed and suddenly Sam felt a little bit better about everything.

“It’s ok Sam. I remember my wedding day. Of course, I didn’t have rich in-laws to pay for everything-”

“Hey come on, it’s not like we asked for it!”

“-But it was still the most important day of my life. Well, up until I had E.B.”

Sam chuckled and smoothed out the fabric of his dress even though it didn’t need it. As he did so, Michellee picked up the veil from its resting place and put it on his head.

“How’d you know?” Sam asked.

“Know what?”

“How’d you know that it wasn’t one big mistake? How’d you know that everything wasn’t going to fall apart?”

There was hardly a moment of silence before Michelle gently turned him around to face her, away from the mirror, away from all of his doubts reflected back at him.

“I didn’t. That’s the fun part isn’t it? Not knowing but still wanting to see. Going for it and knowing no matter where you land you’d be holding someone else’s hand. Trying something new.”

“Trying something new.” He repeated.

A smile formed on his lips and he reached for her arm to loop his around.

“Alright. Alright, here you go I-Am. Off to try something new.”

_______________

Guy’s Mother walked Sam down the aisle and the action only caused the slightest pang of sadness within him. But he was able to shake it off, kept his eyes forward and fixed on the altar.

The venue was a small park area just beside Guy’s home, everything rented out and decorated for an informal (but still, at the older Am-I’s insistence, fairly expensive) ceremony and party.

The second he saw Guy he knew that he was ridiculous for ever having any doubts. The knox was dressed in a charming bowtie and a deep blue wreath of flowers topped of his head. He looked so much younger without the hat, without the scowl marks. Instead smile lines had taken their place as his husband to be positively beamed at him.

Sam hadn’t even realized he was at the stand until Guy reached over to take his hand.

“You look amazing, Sam.”

“Yeah, well, one of had to do a booty tooch down the catwalk.”

Sam smiled as he saw Guy’s cheeks puff up as he choked back a laugh. He wanted Guy to make that face every day and soon, that goal was going to be closer to a reality.

The officiant nodded to Guy after the happy murmurs of the crowd died down to start.

“Sam I-Am, the first days after I met you, you took my briefcase, dragged me along on the craziest job in the entire world, nearly got me killed more times than I could count, and stole my wallet three times. Those were the best days of my life and every day since then has just kept getting better. You’re a weird little adult and I can’t find any room in the refrigerator for any of the groceries because all you keep in there is ham and eggs. The amount of luck you possess is almost infuriating and you are, by far, the biggest dope I’ve ever met. But...you’re my hope man and I always know that I have you in my corner. You gave me a reason to keep on trying and, Sam, every day...every day for the rest of our lives I want to keep trying new things with you. I think your luck really did rub off on me at some point, because otherwise I can’t imagine how I ended up so yipping lucky-sorry I know I’m not supposed to curse during these things but it’s true. So, if you’ll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life with you...um, the end? It’s-It’s been a while since I’ve been to a wedding I didn’t really think of a closer.”

There was a small chuckle that passed throughout the audience at Guy’s fumble and Sam could see in his eyes that he meant every word of his vows.

“Wow. You see, I had this whole spoken word musical number that I was gonna try to pull off in a dress but that just made me forget about ninety percent of it. So I guess I’ll just say that no one has ever really wanted me to stay the same person before. No one’s ever hung around long enough to decide if I was worth it. But you did. And that was the first time I thought that maybe I didn’t have to run away from myself anymore. I still don’t know who I want to be in this world, what kind of a difference I want to make, but I know I want to do it all with you. And, this is embarrassing, I don’t really have a closer either.”

Both men turned to the officiant with a questioning look, only to have the other shrug at them.

“I always thought weddings were supposed to be way longer and more boring,” Sam started, “But I think we’re good? Can say the Big Final Words and do the kissing thing now? I wanna skip to that part.”

Sam and Guy took out their rings and slipped them onto each other’s fingers with another nod of approval from the officiant.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous. I do.” Guy said.

“I do!”

And with that, Guy lifted him up bridal style and dipped him, a small nuzzle passing between them before they finally sealed it all together with a kiss.

The small crowd of friends and family cheered for the two as their grins became so wide that it seemed like their faces would crack.

Guy sat Sam down gently and before they began to walk into the crowd, he leaned over and chuckled.

“I was really excited to see you in your wedding attire. And as always, you didn’t disappoint.”

Sam giggled before standing on the tips of his toes and whispering something into Guy’s ear.

As the cheering and talking started to commence all around them, the knox’s face turned a bright red.

“Can’t say I don’t feel the same with you Wedding Buddy!” Sam chirped before heading out to the sea of smiling faces ready to congratulate him and get the party started.

Guy stood there for a moment, his face beating red as his brothers came and slapped him on the back for a job well done.

It was going to be an interesting honeymoon.

#green eggs and ham #geah #briefcase buddies #briefcase boyfriends #zk fic #guy am i #sam i am #i hope yall like it this was fun!!!!!!

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vergilboyfriend · 4 years ago

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You should do all of them questions and 90 is true

I love you!!!!

1. Favorite instrument?

I work at a music store u can’t just ask me this. When my coworkers play it’s the saxophone or the flute, when the boys in the repair shop are testing repairs and they harmonize with each other or try to outplay one another it’s the bassoon or the trombone or whatever they’re fixing at the moment. When I hear 🎺 give his lesson on Wednesday afternoons it’s the trumpet, and when I think about middle school it’s the clarinet, the flute, the French horn. When I hear the nutcracker pas des deux is the oboe and when I hear edith piaf l’accordeoniste it’s the remarkable human voice. Really my favorite instrument is all of them, it just depends.

2. Favorite fic trope? Mutual pining 🥺

3. Sport you played for the longest amount of time? LMAO I wasn’t a sporty kid but I did ballet

4. Shoe size? 10-11

5. Most recent (good) dream? Uhh I had a dream last night about my coworker 🎹 it wasn’t bad though I can’t really remember what it was about

6. Last person in your DMs? smugg

7. Can you do a handstand? Nooo nooo lmaoo nooooo

8. Unpopular food opinion I don’t like oranges or red meat

9. Conspiracy you believe in? There’s some kind of weird weather dome in my hometown around the military base that makes most storms pass around us

10. Is your hair its natural color/style? Most of it is I dyed the bottom layer of my hair tho so it’s blonde rn

11. state a useless fact all that’s coming to mind is outright lies rn hold on. The inventor of pringles is buried in a pringles can that’s so fucking nasty omg

12. most interesting gossip you’ve heard? Idk I don’t really care for gossip uhhhh have u heard tho rin dippindogs is a huge gay hah she uhh she like men AND women lmao gaaay gaaaay

13. Middle name? Carolyn

14. Sexuality? Bisexual

15. Amount of sleep you got last night? Idk actually I think like 9-10 hrs tho I slept in until 11

16. Opinion on ice cream cake? Tasty!!!

17. Opinion on (cup)cake frosting? It’s depends buttercream is usually too sweet for me in large amounts so I prefer whipped cream frosting

18. Last board game you played? Idk??? We played hunt a killer tho last Thursday me n my family I guess that counts kinda

19. Project you want to start? I need ideas first baby

20. Project you’re working on right now? HAHAHAHAHAHA

21. TV show you’re watching? nothing rn I just rewatch bojack a lot if I watch anything

22. Last movie you watched? Lego batman I think

23. Ever left anon hate? Not legit hate

24. Ever left anon love? Yes all the time. Sometimes to strangers it’s my favorite thing to do

25. Best Disney movie? The princess and the frog

26. Best Pixar movie? Soul or Up I can’t decide

27. Best Star Wars? Um. Empire strikes back

28. Last thing you consumed? Fuit gumy

29. NoTP? Idk I don’t really hate ships unless they’re gross like pedophilic gross

30. story behind your (nick)name? When I was a fetus my great grandfather had a dream that my name should be Carolyn Marie but my parents were huge dweebs so they named me Marina after the actress of Deanna Troi in Star Trek. Idk about my nickname ive just always been Rina/Rin as long as I can remember

31. ice cream order? Lately it’s lemon sorbetto I know it’s SO high in sugar but I love it

32. describe your blog in <5 words I love you

33. how many blogs do you follow? 436

34. Describe your voice it depends usually I sound like a sick child but my customer service voice is really pleasant

35. Describe your smile it’s cute :)

36. What is the place you live known for? LMAOOO LMAO we have a military base nearby and like. I could go on abt that one but also like. There’s a lot of gang violence and a lot of the other consequences of poverty. People from the cities around us see us as “””ghetto””” or violent but it’s just. It’s more than that it’s always more than that. And idk what else there’s nothing really particularly special about this town except that we’re all here and not anywhere else

37. What is the place you’re originally from known for? (if they’re different)

38. pronouns? she/any idc

39. Languages you speak? English

40. first friend you made through tumblr? Idk. I probably don’t talk to them anymore :(

41. Person on tumblr you know in real life? my brother

42. First dog breed you think of shih tzu I have 2 next to me rn

43. room wall color? Purble!!!! The paint color is called grape juice that’s why I picked it!!!

44. Song that’s stuck in your head right now? It’s tricky to rock a rhyme to rock a rhyme that’s right on time it’s trickyyyyy

45. Favorite number? 5, 34

46. Color you associate with your name? Red

47. Favorite jolly rancher flavor?watermelon

48. Pets? 2 dogs rocket and groot and 4 cats loki danni who r from the same litter and we raised from kittens, miss kitty who we adopted from a shelter after my boy blue moon passed away and ben (his real name is Kylo Ren thanks to my mom but I refuse to call him that) he is my little baby and he has 7 toes on his front paws

49. Collections? Hot wheels

50. Character outside of your fandom you’d marry? Girl what lmaooo idk

51. Character outside of your fandom you’d kill? That’s mean :(

52. Have you met any celebrities? NO thank god id have to kill on sight

53. Favorite time period in history? Itslian Renaissance & Romantic Era

54. What time is it right now? 2:35 am oops

55. History or future? Future but like . A good one. Or prehistory

56. Space or ocean? Space

57. Fears? Abandonment

58. Command + v and post. It’s this list of questions u don’t want that

59. Favorite season? Spring

60. Describe your aesthetic. Messy just a mess, neon and old buildings and things, antiques, countryside if there weren’t so many trump pence flags still lmaoo give uppp give up, nature just al of nature and space and places humans can’t touch and places they used to touch but can’t anymore

61. MBTI? Infp but I haven’t taken it in a few years

62. What’s your relationship with your family like? Normal.

63. “Biggest fan” in your tumblr activity? I’m in mobile hold on acc to tumblr it’s akky

64. Favorite musical? Sweeney todd

65. Comfort book? Idk how to read 💔💔💔 wuthering heights tho

66. Comfort movie? Whisper of the heart

67. OTP? Girl idk

68. BroTP? Joey and Tristan yugioh

69. AUs or canon compliant? Canon ig idk

70. Opinion on the person who’s sending the ask? It’s an anon!! But I love them

71. FMK + 3 characters anon didnt leave any characters and I was going to say something very bad but I won’t

72. Dream date? I’ve wanted to do this for a while but ideally it would be after we’d been together a while maybe even engaged or whatever, I wanna go to like a Home Depot or a furniture store and pretend to be married and looking for house paints and furniture and plan what our home is going to look like I wanna do that so bad. But idk for a first/early relationship date i really want to go to the zilker botanical garden it’s one of my favorite places, we could also go to the natural gardener which is a plant nursery in Austin I really love it there too and it’s not that far from zilker.

73. Relationship status? Single

74. Ever dyed your hair? Do you plan to? Yes and perhaps. Maybe

75. Dream job/career? Idk anymore I used to have big girl goals and I haven’t had any in a while. But when I was younger I wanted to be a game warden

76. Favorite band/singer? Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

77. Something that makes you soft/that you find adorable? My cats

78. The first thing you would do if you won the lottery? Buy a house

79. Are you superstitious? Yes

80. Character you project onto? Shizuku tsukishima

81. Fictional character you’ve had a crush on? Vergil devil may cry. Forever husband

82. Celebrity crush? LMAO

83. Person on here you’d date? my mutuals

84. Person on here you’d marry? 🥺 my mutuals

85. Person on here you’d throw into the void? Smugg

86. Other social media you have? I’ve got a photography insta that I barely use and a Twitter that’s just nintendo switch screenies that’s it

87. Finish the sentence: Due to personal reasons, ___________i will be passing away

88. Bad habit? I find it rlly hard to say no or like to say when and why I’m upset I don’t feel like for the latter I don’t feel like I should bring something that’s upsetting me up because I know I’ll get over it on my own and I don’t really trust myself to be upset about rational things. Idk I’m working on it

89. Three things you like about yourself? I’m hot, I’m kind, I’m resilient

90. Ily and you deserve the world I love you!!!!! YOU deserve it too!!!

#askies #anonymous #long post /#thank u!!

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treacherous-dwarf-of-the-seas · 5 years ago

Text

I had a lot of Thoughts about the Steven Universe Future finale

It’s exactly a month after its premiere, but I still have a lot of feelings and I wanna organize my thoughts a bit so I can have them somewhere, perhaps for any future ideas I may have. I think I’m just gonna list my thoughts on the 4 individual episodes, the finale (and season) as a whole, etc. Overall, I liked most of it, but I’m gonna get a bit su critical because although I absolutely loved many things about this finale, Oh boy. Some things I downright Did Not. Spoilers ahead I guess, this is a long one.

This is my favorite part of the finale by far. To me, it did almost everything right.

I loved picking up right after Fractured, and Steven’s expression and body language, *chef’s kiss*

Poor Jasper gets killed *twice*

Homeworld looks so good! It’s all gardeny and disorganized in a good way.

Purple pearl?

SPINEL’S BACK!!!

Edgy theories that spinel and the diamonds were a disaster waiting to happen (I agreed with these) were wrong and this makes me happy.

Steven’s reaction to Spinel kissing him? Was a tad strange//

SO GOOD to see Spinel being mentally healthy and happy and while still being herself.

The Diamonds! Actually working to better themselves!

I love the idea of diamond powers “working in reverse”. Like, Yellow diamond can change bodies and destabilize bodies, Blue can change emotions for better or worse, White can take over others or let others in. Honestly the idea that Pink/Rose could bring random plants to life and basically heal anything always struck me as so overpowered and random. The context that she was a goddess of destruction that changed into a goddess of creation makes the concept make a bit more sense to me, I appreciate that.

I’m so ambivalent about Yellow’s scene.

Like, its so satisfying to see. The thing that everybody (including me) was complaining about was that the diamonds’ redemption did not change the millennia of shattered, corrupted and amalgamated gems and suffering they had directly caused. Its very nice to see them putting their money with their mouths are. There’s acknowledgement that redemption isn’t just saying sorry and being less of a dick than you were before, it’s also correcting past wrongs and making it up to the people who were hurt.

However, I’m not totally sold on the idea of healing every shattered gem and the cluster. Like, I guess it makes sense considering a shatter is just a crack that’s been finished, and cracks in gems can be healed. But I don’t think it should be as easy as it is, and in any case, it just feels like it cheapens the impact of shattering, and even the forced fusions when they were so impactful in the original show. I wish the healing could still be done, but in a way that respects how awful and impactful the harm was.

I totally understand Steven in the Blue Diamond scene. I had had mental health problems where my mom had just offered drugs instead of talking to me or trying to help in a way that showed she cared about the issue, so this scene hit a bit hard.

Blue gets a song!

White, by far, my favorite scene in all of Future.

Spinel White, no joke, gave me nightmares.

The little moment of Steven yelling at himself for being a diamond is exactly what I wanted and I needed so much more of it.

Triggered by everything White Diamond does. *chef’s kiss*. I especially love the little subtle moment of looking uncomfortable and pushing away white’s fingernails.

Finally seeing similarities between Steven and White is canon, though I wish it was more explored.

THE HALLUCINATION

Zach Callison is Intense(TM). This man always goes so hard and deserves mad respect.

TOO BAD.

Intrusive thoughts being represented in this way is amazing.

I still wonder if White knows what happened. Can she read thoughts in that state?

He used White Diamond’s power to go into her body, and then while in her body, used her power of possession to take over his own body to puppet himself? I actually love the twistedness of this concept. It shows how twisted Steven himself has become. It’s so much about self-harm, while also not being self harm? vengeful thoughts, intrusive thoughts, anger, just everything. This moment could take all day to analyze, and I think it is way more thematically relevant to Steven’s internal struggle than the corruption.

Love that the diamonds were still willing to help and only seemed concerned after how Steven was acting. They have changed!

Fairy tale imagery, noice.

This one is odd in the best way.

My favorite scenes in anything with supernatural beings is when they look at their own eyes in the mirror and realize that it’s not human or changed from what they should be. The way this scene played out was in a way I’ve only seen in fanfiction, and I am Here for it. The horror on Steven’s face when he’s looking at his own appearance is just wonderfully done.

Very uncomfortable that there is an actual painting of Steven as an angel in his own room. I love how it ties into this episode, but I genuinely feel uncomfortable that he was thought of in that way at all.

The flat out denial that he had just done the things he had done simply by virtue of who he is, I love the idea that “Steven Universe” has become more of a concept/symbol to him rather than being his own name. It reminds me of his concept of his mother and how her name is more of a symbol to Steven than a person. I just love the subtle parallel.

I love the fact that “toxic positivity” is being explored in this show. I never really see it being discussed, and in a show so centered on being honest about emotions, no matter how painful they are, its so wonderful that the protagonist’s main character flaw is the exact opposite, to the point of being forcefully happy and smiling and actively ignoring things going wrong. It really strengthens the message by showing the opposite extreme.

I love the recontextualization that is present in suf. The criticisms of Steven being “too happy” during the cluster arc, being strangely positive after Lars’ death, etc. Although it was uncomfortable when those episodes came out and those events were all but ignored, I’m happy that it is being addressed as this culmination of madness in Steven, being so forcefully happy that its obvious that those episodes weren’t trying to ignore the problems, Steven was.

I’m also happy to see a genuine “hero complex” in a protagonist. (usually the term is used incorrectly to mean “anyone who is a hero who works too hard.”

Steven talking to himself in typical protagonist fashion.

The crystal gems staging an intervention, good shit.

“Steven’s here to help. Steven help. Help Steven.” Not subtle, but I’m always a slut for the glitchy messages.

The confession of his crimes, love that we get to see the gems react to that.

The whole monologue. Once again, Zach goes hard. I love the manic energy and still the ending is so raw and broken.

“Oh, don't worry! I fixed that too! I can fix anything. I can just keep messing up and fixing things forever, and you'll never have to know or think about any of it! How messed up is that? That I've gotten away with this for so long. You have no idea how bad I am.”

It honestly feels like some projection? (Idk something to do with that). It feels like hes a little put out by the things he learned in Homeworld Bound. Like, maybe he feels the same way I do? That the diamonds got off too easy? Maybe it’s simply that hes put out that they’re getting better and he seems to be getting worse. Maybe even, into the worst parts of his mom? I mean from his perspective, his mother had reverse character development and went, in his mind, from a goddess to a petty teenager, to an actual monster. How upsetting would it be to see the galactic dictators who got to live, do so many awful things, worse things than her, and just get to make everything better, to the point of total reversal of their crimes, while pink just ran away and left steven to deal with the mess.While he had to deal with the aftermath of EVERYTHING. Everyone seems to just be okay with the diamonds now, the monsters he feared for so long, so how come he has to be the bad one? How come he has to be like them now? Maybe it’s even coming back to his whole theory that he’s just a reincarnated version of his mom. (I know that he knows it isn’t true, but old fears and old habits can come back during a manic episode, and he spent a long time thinking that he was just there to clean up his mom’s mess and thinking that he was her in disguise.) If you look at what he’s saying, it’s a little strange that he’s talking about how bad he is and how he messes up and then fixes the stuff and no one has to know. It doesn’t even sound like he’s talking about himself, not really.

This sounds like a hysterical realization of what being a diamond means for steven. This is better explained in this post here :https://pennylogue.tumblr.com/post/613441610438590464/steven-is-a-diamond-and-thats-okay . Like, he is panicking that being a diamond means that he can just destroy everything and just fix it like the other diamonds. It’s terrifying that he can just destroy anything and hurt anybody, and people will still worship the ground he walks on just by virtue of who he is. (This isn’t true, obviously, but after what had just happened with jasper, a terrified mind would latch on to that.)

Dude, I could just go on all day this monologue is just fascinating.

Love the parallel of Connie’s “backpack butterflies” and Steve’s back exploding. Its like a subtle way to show that the thoughts are “suddenly swarming.”

Oh god. I’ve gotta be honest. I hated this one. But I’ll start off with things I liked.

The general concept is okay, but I feel like it is not thematically consistent, which I will get into later.

The moment when the gems tell Greg to leave, and he stamps his foot down saying he needs to be with his son, I like that it is very apparent that his stomp makes almost no sound or impact, which really shows how different Steven is from him, aka, his separation from his own humanity that has been building up.

Connie being amazing as always.

“Yoo hoo! Steven! Is this a bad time?”

Spinel’s entire thing, from her reaction to seeing pink godzilla to her thinking that she is the main villain of steven’s story. It reminds me of Peridot’s “leader of the crystal gems, traitor to homeworld” thing and it makes me so happy.

“WHy is something like this always happening when we show up for a visit?”

The ending. Jesus. Zach always goes so hard I don’t doubt he was actually sobbing. I wish I could have cried during this moment.

I respect the message, that it’s not about fixing it, it’s about being there for the person struggling, and Steven wasn’t cured, he finally hit a breaking point. I understand that the problem was not “solved with a hug” as so many say.

I love that before I saw the episode I saw pics of Garnet being as big as the kaiju and actually said to myself, “Wow the heights really ARE inconsistent.”

I don’t like that Connie included herself as one of the people that depend on Steven. They are the healthiest relationship in the entire show and Connie is always there for Steven? sometimes even more than he can be there for her? Where is this coming from? She has literally always been there. Her calling everyone out did clear my skin and water my crops though.

Also, where is Connie’s emotional resolution? Didn’ she go through alot of the same trauma as Steven?

I don’t think it’s unreasonable that a diamond, Steven, could corrupt themselves. It’s not necessarily a bad ending to have Steven be corrupted into a giant monster. However, I don’t think it’s the ending that was really built up to. The only real build up was the presence of “Wyrm boi” in the theme song, and that’s about it. It’s not as prevalent as eye symbolism and foreshadowing of someone (Steven or Connie) losing a hand or an eye.

The episode itself was 11 minutes long, and the monster was very underwhelming and way too quick. I feel like the emotions were too rushed, and although everyone else seemed to put in their emotional 2 cents, I feel as though Steven did not get the emotional climax that he really needed.

Also why didn’t we have a sweet little moment of connection with Nephrite Jade/Centipeetle? Wouldn’t that have been such a bittersweet parallel? The whole “being there for Steven like he was there for us?” So where is she?

There was so much imagery and thematic elements in both Steven Universe and Steven Universe Future, that did not build up to the kaiju monster in the way that it was.

The imagery with one eye, the eye patches, cat steven, the heterochromatic eyes with Onion’s doll, Cookie cat, split Steven, etc etc, most people have many many more examples. I feel like someone could have lost an eye, or maybe Steven could have had a corruption scar that left his eyes permanently heterochromatic. It also would have been thematically relevant to have Steven come out of this with more of a balance of his gem half and human half. This never really becomes relevant in “I Am My Monster.” His gem half turns him into a monster, his gem half helps him turn back. It’s nice that his gem and human family were there as support, but there was never a sense of balancing both sides of himself in the fact that they are there, as there are only two humans and mostly gems there, and this lack of balance and security with both parts of himself was one of the major themes throughout the series and one of the sources of Steven’s identity crisis.

Connie is always a parallel to Pearls. Our Pearl and Pink Pearl. I wish something had come of that. (There are amazing comics that show her losing an eye like Pink Pearl, as it seemed to be foreshadowed in Open Book and Sworn to the Sword.)

This idea isn’t mine, but I’ve seen it done really well and I feel like it would have been a better ending than 10 minute godzilla monster. I wish I could have seen Steven split up again. I am personally fascinated with the otherworldly enigma that are Steven’s two halves, but I feel that that would have tied into the themes better and tied up more loose ends. By the end of the series, we don’t know Steven’s opinion on his mother, and last time we heard him mention her it was in a negative light. This is connected to Steven’s conflict within himself, his desire to understand his human side better, his fear of his power as a diamond, his insecurity and loneliness as a totally unique being. Homeworld Bound was the closest we got to seeing Steven talk to himself, and confront the two sides of himself. This was also the closest we’ve seen Steven come to being honest with the diamonds about how he really sees them. However, this ended with Steven hurting himself, (wanting to hurt White was a response to trauma as well as symbolically confronting his own diamond self), and running away. We never get to see the resolution to that conversation. We never see Steven accept that he is a diamond and that it isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Furthermore, Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond is not resolved. The negative character development took a huge toll on her character. Not only does the audience think of her as a terrible person, but the characters also forget her positive character development after hearing about all the mistakes of the past. Rose/Pink’s redemption arc still happened. I think it would have been fitting to remind us here, like all the other diamonds get their moment in this special. I feel like having Steven split up would tie up these loose ends. It would be a dramatic ending while also being a way for Steven to confront these issues within himself in a grounded way, while also making genuine peace with Pink Diamond. We could have Steven talking to himself, maybe starting out the way he did with White in Homeworld Bound, then steadily coming to terms with the sides of himself that he is afraid of, maybe how both sides help each other, how Pink Diamond is not a symbol of all that is wrong in his life, but just a person with flaws who was able to be better, like he can be better, too. This was touched on a little in Change Your Mind, but I would love to see Steven’s thoughts on Pink after the events of Fractured and Homeworld Bound, as there has to be some difference in perspective there. I feel that if Steven split into his components, these themes and ideas could be explored more and we could have a better climatic resolution for Steven’s character arc. Even if Steven came out with no scars, even with both his eyes, the imagery and thematic elements would still be satisfactorily resolved if we got to see the two halves of Steven actually talk to each other. This also explains it better. https://scatterpatter.tumblr.com/post/615024679798915072/hmmmm-okay-so-i-just-watched-one-of-those-rose

Btw, if anybody has fanfiction recs with this concept, please hmu.

I think I hate the kaiju ending because it seemed like such a waste of potential and didn’t really resolve any conflict besides functioning as a sort of breakdown.

The Future. aka: Welcome to another episode of Crying Breakfast Friends!

Boogle

The cookie cat rap. Pearl obviously kills it because she’s awesome and I was dying the entire time.

Steven/Therapy is canon!

I like that Steven puts up a poster of Kerry Moonbeam in his room that he’s giving to his dad. It’s like he’s made peace with the whole “mr. universe thing” and it makes me happy to see that he’s not holding it against his dad or even avoiding the subject.

I appreciate alot of little moments with the family while it still lasts.

It is genuinely like watching Crying Breakfast Friends.

Steven gets to be “petty” with his emotions! He is finally honest with his family. I do appreciate the subtle resolution to his character arc (despite my opinions of the climax).

My favorite thing about Steven and Connie is that the fact that they are “canon” has basically always been true. Like, they’ve always loved eachother as best friends and they still do, it’s just that they get to kiss now. I absolutely love that its not a huge dramatic thing, its just Steven and Connie and they are otp for life.

The fanfic potential is strong with this one.

I wish I could have seen a therapy session or at least meeting the therapist. Maybe Steven walking into the office with his family behind him and its a moment of doing the first steps toward getting better.

But as is, this one is fine.

Love the idea of a road trip with our little weirdo interacting with normies.

Time to hit up Gravity Falls, lmao.

TLDR:, the finale was good, but I did not particularly care for the climax. I am genuinely sad to see this show go. I was not a fan until I was already 18, but even after 5 years this show has taught me so much about self love, acceptance, tolerance, emotional honesty, etc. (I’ll probably do another post about it because holy shit this is long.) But this season, or epilogue series, has gotten me through such a difficult time in my life that is still happening, and has given me the tools to get through it. I sympathize with Steven so much, and I know alot of other people did too. It was so nice to be part of a community that just adopted this feral child. Some of future was rushed and of course it wasn’t perfect, but I greatly respect what it was doing. Bringing up PTSD and mental illness in this way in something like this was not something I was prepared for, even in this show, and I certainly couldn’t have imagined it even 5 years ago. Even with its missteps, this show took so many risks and was so incredibly detailed and it was obvious that it was made with alot of love and the fans in mind. I criticize because I love this show and while I feel it is necessary to acknowledge its flaws, I have so much love for the possibilities that this little world makes me dream of. These four episodes in particular was an emotional roller coaster and I am so sad to see it go, but I enjoyed the ride. Thank you, Crewniverse!

#steven universe #steven universe meta #steven universe finale #su #homeworld bound #everythings fine #corrupted steven #i am my monster #the future #steven universe future #pink diamond #connie maheswaran #long post #su critical i guess? if you squint

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ariannjs · 5 years ago

Text

KARIN | A SasuSaku FanFic (10/10)

(Karin - Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9)

——–

Hey guys! It's been a whiiiiile! I'm so sorry that I'm just uploading this now. To be honest, this epilogue has been finished since last August but idk I felt quite afraid to post it that I totally forgot all about it@.@ Nonetheless, here it isss! Accck I'm shy! HAHA. But here's a late New Year and Valentine's Gift to you all, SS fam!

Thank you for journeying with me as I wrote my very first multi-chaptered SasuSaku fic! I am extremely grateful for all of your encouraging comments on this and all my other works. 2019 has been really difficult but I praise God because this writing journey became highly therapeutic for me that it led me to meeting more SS fans as well! So yeah, Arigatou Gozaimashita!

Alright, I won't hold you back for long, here's the Epilogue of "Karin"! Enjoy!xx

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The only time that Sasuke Uchiha had felt incredibly nervous was back when his father was mentoring him on how to use Katon. Though many years had passed, he could still vividly remember that heart-pounding, stomach-twisting sensation of not knowing if he’d be able to produce an impressive result as his father’s eyes were fixated on him.

And now, he could feel the same thing with what he was planning to do.

Although they didn’t really have the best father-son relationship, he knew that if Fugaku Uchiha was still alive, he’s the best person who could give him the most logical advice that he needed at the moment, considering that they were, in many ways, similar in terms of their personality.

That’s why absurdly, he wished his father was here to tell him how to execute his plan in a step-by-step manner like how he passed on to him the Great Fireball Technique.

Sasuke wasn't the kind of person who finds asking questions necessary, a manifestation of the superiority that tended to be his facade even in his most vulnerable state. But if only he could, there were lots of questions that he would like to ask his Otou-san.

How exactly did father ask mother to marry him?

Did he feel as insanely apprehensive as I am right now?

Did mother actually say yes on father’s first attempt to ask?

How many chances does a man have anyway, just in case...just in case the woman says no?

These, and probably a lot more.

With thoughts all over the place, Sasuke fidgeted on the couch as he watched Sakura make funny faces at the giggling Suika on the floor of the Hozuki’s living room.

She’s still so annoying, he couldn’t help but think. Doesn’t she have the slightest idea about how much he was falling in love with her all the more each day?

Observing Sakura with Suika has been one of his favorite past times ever since the redhead baby was born. It just showed him much of the pureness of her heart towards people, children in particular. And it only solidified his resolve that he has made the right decision – probably the best in his life so far – about spending the rest of his life with his female teammate in his genin squad.

He planned to ask her that special question today, when the opportunity arises. His brain has been trying its best to figure out how to do so ever since he came out of the hospital weeks ago. But being Sasuke Uchiha, there was no grand preparation and sappy romantic gestures despite the ridiculous suggestions of his best friend and the disgusting persuasion of his sensei for him to read his favorite book. All he knew was it was completely fixed in his mind that this woman was the one he wanted to marry.

And today was the day that he’s gonna make Sakura Haruno say yes to being an Uchiha.

So while they were waiting for the Hozuki couple to finish packing their belongings, he was on the alert for any open chance to bring up his question in the same way he has his guard up whenever a possible enemy is lingering around.

“Is something bothering you, Sasuke-kun?”

Tch. Why does she have to know him so well?

He tersely shook his head, eyes on Suika who was curiously staring at him with her tiny hand in her mouth.

“You know I’m always here to listen when you’re ready.” Sakura showed that breathtaking smile of hers that seemed to be reserved just for him. TCH!

“Oh, you want to go to Uncle Sasuke? Okay! Okay! Stop bouncing!” She then giggled to the kid, leaned to carry her, and then placed her on Sasuke’s lap.

Suika stretched an arm out to reach for his face, and for a moment, it was effective in drawing his gaze away from Sakura. But the head medic moved closer to wipe the side of Suika's mouth with a bib as the baby babbled incoherent words.

For a second, Sasuke's mind went blank, bringing him to a different timeline wherein quite the same scene was happening as if he was in a genjutsu. It was breathtaking. His heart constricted with longing for the surreal image to become a reality, despite it being far-fetched.

Years ago, he never imagined that he would have the chance of having a family of his own. And yes, even up to now, the idea was still something that his mind wrestled to accept as something that he deserved.

But then, his eyes met Sakura’s once more. And just like all the other times that he has met her gaze, something inside him changed and made him feel like it's just so easy to drop all his hesitations because of her – for her.

“Sakura...I–”

“Wow! I can’t believe it’s our last day.”

Their heads suddenly whipped towards the bedroom door as their redhead friend exited, followed by her husband who had just finished sealing their baggage in a scroll.

Half irked yet half relieved with the interruption, Sasuke sighed as he handed the baby to her frowning mother. It was a good thing that Sakura didn't realize he was about to tell her something important.

Maybe later, then.

Suigetsu shrugged. "Some things really come to an end, Karin."

“That’s sadly true,” Sakura joined in the conversation, approaching the Hozuki matriarch to pass on the baby's bib. “But the good thing is that every time a season ends, a new one is about to begin.” She smiled at the woman who has become one of her closest friends.

It was saddening to see their family leave, but she’s just so excited for them to finally reside in a place they could truly call their home. Besides, they deserved it after everything they've been through individually and as a family.

“It’s time to go.” Everyone turned to the Uchiha who was already standing by the door.

So with a toothy grin, Suigetsu placed an arm around his wife’s shoulders before saying, “Let’s go, Karin. I’m excited for you and Suika to see Hidden Mist.”

The walk towards the gates of Konoha seemed like a trip down memory lane. So when they finally reached that familiar arc that welcomes and sends off Konoha's villagers and visitors, Karin wasn't able to stop herself from handing over Suika to her husband and then throwing her arms as tight as she could around Sasuke.

"Karin. How many times should I tell you to get off me, especially because you're a married woman?"

The redhead chuckled at that, amused with how detached he still was – well, except for a certain pink-haired maiden. "My husband wouldn't mind though!"

Sasuke rolled his eyes but found himself glancing at the other woman with them, wondering if she would mind about the situation. However, he only caught her laughing cutely at the ordeal. He couldn't bring himself to scoff.

Pulling away for the Uchiha to be comfortable, Karin sheepishly said, "Thank you so much for everything, Sasuke. I'm so glad that you've found redemption for yourself. No doubt, you'll be able to help more people inside and outside this village. Like us. I will never forget this."

Karin realized that staying in Konoha was the happiest moment of her life so far. And she knew that despite her initial doubts about the idea, everything wouldn’t happen if her husband didn’t force her to join Sasuke in going to this place for her and their baby's safety. Yet she never expected that the decision would be life-changing for all of them.

Suigetsu agreed with a nod. “Sasuke, you've done so much for us. I owe my family’s life to you. I honestly can't thank you enough."

The former leader of Team Taka was stunned at the way his teammates expressed their gratitude to him. He never even thought that there's anything anyone should thank him for. If anything, it was them that he should've thanked for they've shown him a glimpse of what a transformed life and an assured future look like. But as usual, he was not exactly good with words.

Remembering how they've witnessed the majority of his worst years yet they're still here to stand by him, Sasuke's eyes softened as he gave the couple a simple yet meaningful nod in response.

The pink-haired maiden beside him was smiling the entire time. Sakura didn't know all the details of Sasuke's journey with Taka, but to see him developing such strong bonds even outside of Team 7 was something that she considered a breakthrough. It gave her joy knowing that this scenario was an assurance to Sasuke that he won't ever be alone anymore.

"Before I forget, please bring these pills that would help in keeping you from the cold during your travels," Sakura then handed a small pouch to Karin. "This is helpful especially for Suika since this would be her first exposure to such cold weather."

If Karin was able to stop her tears from falling while talking to Sasuke, she wasn't able to contain it anymore while staring at the pouch given by Sakura. This woman has done so much in bringing out the best in her without her knowing. And so, she also enveloped her in an embrace that's so rare for Karin to give, well, except when it's for her husband and Sasuke.

“Sakura, you’ve saved my life not just once. And then you've shown me the kind of life I never imagined I could still have. Thank you for trusting me and for believing in my potential.” Karin sniffed while Sakura gave her a pat on the back, unable to stop a tear from falling as well. And then the redhead pulled away, instantly wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand with a big smile at her senpai. "I'm not usually like this but—ugh! It's because of the two of you!"

At her loud remark, Sasuke raised an eyebrow while Sakura ended up cackling with a hand on her stomach.

"Whew. At least it's not me this time." Suigetsu snickered too, rocking the baby in his arms that was awakened by the voice of her mother.

Karin almost landed a punch to her husband's liquefiable head, but thanks to Suika's sleepy murmur, she opted to avoid violence to carry the baby again. "Ssh. I'm sorry, kid. Mama's a little different today because of your godmother and godfather." She stuck a tongue out at the two and Sasuke could only snort as Sakura continued to laugh.

"Ha. Sorry, Karin could be crazy at times, or…" The Hozuki patriarch paused and pretended to contemplate. "...actually, most of the time."

"Hey! You're lucky I'm holding your daughter!"

"Kidding, guys. I love that woman nonetheless."

Sakura and Sasuke didn't fail to see the tinge of maroon on the redhead's cheeks before she turned around to hide it. Uncomfortable with such things, the Uchiha scoffed at the sight of his old teammates. But then, he slightly jerked as something hit his side almost close to his ribs.

When he shot a sharp glance at the woman beside him, Sakura was just smiling innocently at the Hozuki's. Yet this doctor might need to heal something later, courtesy of her pointed elbow.

Suigetsu noticed the interchange and smirked a little, having high hopes that one day, these two would finally end up like him and his wife. He then grinned. "But really, the two of you have made a difference in our lives. We'll surely remember this and even tell Suika one day. Sasuke, you better visit us in one of Orochimaru's hideouts. And then bring Sakura-san with you."

"As if I'd want to go back there."

Scrunching her nose, Sakura shivered at the prospect of being in the aforementioned place.

Karin wasn't able to stifle her guffaw as she faced her friends again. "But we don't know, Sasuke, what if you'd eventually need to visit? And that would be nice! I want Suika to meet you both one day!"

"Tch. You'd really want your daughter to grow up in that dumpsite?"

"Oi! You kind of grew up there too!" Suigetsu teased.

Staring blankly, Sasuke fought the urge to burn the couple with his powerful eyes for the sake of their daughter. And then he said, "You better leave now. It's almost dusk."

"Fine then, yes, sir!"

"Take care of your family, Suigetsu."

"Always. And you, take care of Sakura-san!" There was a smirk on Suigetsu's lips as Sasuke remained silent at that. But he knew full well, Sasuke would cross time and dimensions and even give his life just to protect Sakura. This time, his strength would be used not for his own selfish agenda, but for the sake of the people he cared for. Just like what he did for Suigetsu and his family.

"Oh. This is real now, isn't it?"

Sakura reached out and gave Karin's hand a squeeze, looking down on Suika who was now awake after all the commotion with her parents and godparents. A giggle escaped her tiny lips upon seeing Sakura, making Sakura frown a bit as her green eyes met the baby's purple ones. "Yes, it's real now, Karin. But this ain't goodbye. See you soon." She smiled one last time before moving aside, waving a small goodbye as the Hozuki's finally exited the village hidden in the leaves.

Sasuke and Sakura silently remained on their posts as the two figures became smaller from afar.

Until Sakura murmured, "They're such a beautiful family, aren’t they?" Slowly, Sasuke tilted his head to gaze at her. And at that very moment, everything felt right. He took in her beauty as the setting sun made her face glow and the breathing wind made her cherry blossom hair sway in slow motion. It reminded him of those times in his redemption journey that he marvelled at the sight of Cherry Blossom trees because it made him feel like she was beside him, albeit far away.

Now that it became real, he thought of how wonderful it would be to have more peaceful moments like this with her. So as they stood in the place where he first broke her heart, he finally chose to drop all hesitations so he could do what he wanted to accomplish before the day ends, with high hopes that he could also give Sakura a new memory with him in this place.

"Sakura. Do you...want to have something like that?" The Hozuki's were already out of sight but his first female teammate continued to stare at a distance. "A future family?" She smiled, clutching her hands to her chest as she thought of the only man she'd want to spend the rest of her life with. And then she said in a soft voice, “I've...I've always wanted to." "I want to have that too...with you."

With wide eyes, Sakura turned to Sasuke who was now looking at the path his friends walked on. There was no trace of humor on his face, only an expression that showed solace and expectancy. “S-sas—”

"But Sakura...it is clear as day that you deserve the best. And that’s...that’s not me." Sasuke’s gaze fell to the ground. "I'm not even exactly a good man, so I'm far from being the best for you. There were so many things that I've done that destroyed and hurt so many people, including you and the ones that you care for. So even though I'd...I'd really want a future with you, I don't think you deserve someone whose past is as wicked as mine."

"Sasuke-kun, all those is exactly what you've said – a part of the past. My love for you is not based on what you've done or what you would do. It's simply based on you, Sasuke-kun. Just you. Anything else doesn't matter, as long as...as long as I know that you deeply love me." She paused. "Do you love me?" There was a momentary pause as he looked up at her dazzling eyes. But it wasn’t because he was doubting his answer, for Sasuke has always been sure.

For a second, he wanted to chuckle at the irony that Sakura Haruno could read words and situations, analyze lab tests and battle strategies, but she couldn’t read and analyze the feelings that Sasuke Uchiha has for her.

It was not her fault that he hadn’t made himself crystal clear yet though.

So he thought of the best way to vividly convey his answer to her question and firmly address her uncertainties about her standing in his life all this time.

He then settled in responding through the best and significant way he knows. Smiling a little, he gently tapped her forehead right below the diamond-shaped mark of her strength before saying, "You should know that by now.”

Just like the first time Sasuke did this, Sakura's eyes widened and her lips parted a little as her cheeks became painted with pink. The only difference now was that she stared back at him with recognition, eyes brimming with tears of none other than joy. To know that her love was reciprocated for such a long time already made her feel elated more than ever.

For so many times, she has almost given up in waiting. But it was true all along, being loved back by the man she has always loved was worth the long wait. She regrets nothing for even after everything, it all came down to this. Sasuke looked away as he remembered something. "That time you've been avoiding me because of Karin...it made me realize that I couldn’t stand a life without you." He muttered something like "Never again" and then faced her with his mismatched eyes focusing intently – lovingly – on her green ones. "If you’re willing to make things work together with me...Sakura, marry me." Sakura's tears finally fell upon hearing those last words that she thought she would never hear from this man. She didn't even have to contemplate on what she would answer for she immediately said, "I could never imagine loving and marrying anyone else, Sasuke-kun."

And then she tapped his forehead in the same way he did with her, making Sasuke's eyes widen and his heart flutter in a way that he never felt before. His lips curved into a smile as he pulled her into a long embrace that surprised even him. But as Sakura melted in his arms as if she had always belonged there, he felt completely relieved that he got the answer he had prayed to receive from her. Maybe this was what Suigetsu had felt when Karin agreed to spend the rest of her life with him as well, he thought.

The satisfied smile on Sakura’s lips after they pulled away made Sasuke’s heart skip a beat. It still felt like he was dreaming, the fact that he was staring at his wife-to-be. “Let’s go home.”

“Yours or mine?”

Sasuke slowly grabbed her hand, after all, he has every right to do so now. “Ours. From now on, you have to be comfortable around the Uchiha compound. I’ll just walk you back to your place tonight.”

As the two of them walked hand in hand back to the village, two pairs of eyes continued to watch them from the nearby trees.

“Heh, Kakashi-sensei, this is a lot better than the last time the three of us were here with Karin, ‘ttebayo!”

——–

August 2019 | AriannJS

——–

8 chapters. 8 characters. 8 months. It's a wrap! *cries in G#m* This fic is now saying sayonara! But hmm...who knows, I might actually get to finish a one-shot sequel for this. Well, we'll see. ;) Arigatou Gozaimashita, mina-san! I appreciate you all!

- A

#SASUSAKU #sasusaku fanfics #ss fics #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #karin #ss fanfics #ss fanfiction #ariannjfics

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