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percabethfeelsfandom · 3 years ago

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How I’d rate the Gods/Goddesses(riordanverse)

This is my rating based off the way Rick Riordan portrayed them in the Riordanverse. The traditional myths have been taken into account but do not make up my entire opinion.

Hestia:

10/10 would give my life for this goddess. In all aspects of the word, this goddess is a goddess. I want a novella of her watching over the hearth and watching out for her family and the heroes. I imagine her being a very comforting presence and warm like a hug, and maybe this is me projecting my mummy issues but I just want her to hug me.

Dionysus:

A solid 7.35/10 for Mr D. Naturally he was a bit annoying, but we were never under the pretence that he he was meant to be anything more than what he provided and I respect that. Him caring about his kids at camp, and staying relatively loyal to his wife is always a plus. And I like his relatively humble beginnings being a hero and becoming a god and then not causing that much trouble in the series. Unlike some other pieces of shit.

Hermes:

4/10. Mans had no right blaming Luke’s thirst for mass genocide on 16 year old Annabeth. Not cool man. Not cool. He gets the points he got because he did genuinely care about Maia, and Luke, but he lost the rest of them by having a blatant favourite (who literally caused so much destruction). However I do still like his line about family in sea of monsters and never giving up on them. Nice meaning. But he was still a shitty father and only intervened out of self interest most of the time.

Aphrodite:

2/10. I hate how low I have to rank her. But my god did Rick do her dirty in his depiction. Just the misogyny, the lack of depth, and the untouched potential she has as a character, as a goddess, THE OLDEST GOD/GODDESS and Rick really made her throw rose petals around the battle fields on one of (what was meant to be) the biggest fights of the riordanverse. Absolute robbery. If I’m not mistaken as well, she was a huge contributor to the issues and obstacles percabeth went through and we do not Stan. HOWEVER, I love her as a goddess normally, and what she could represent if she’s written properly.

Hephaestus:

8/10. I have no qualms with this man. I too prefer the company of inanimate objects to people and get stressed about social interaction. And I too have mummy issues. So me and Hephaestus are on the same page. Let this man tinker away in his little bunker. He never went out of his way to make things harder for demigods, and was helpful when they came to him for help which I can also respect. (Point deduction because it was on his land that Bianca died…if I’m not mistaken).

Ares:

-12/10. This man was introduced as a bully, and gives off the vibes of every phobic, known to humanity. I do not vibe. I do not agree. I do not stan. ALSO his motorbike seat is apparently made from "Caucasian human skin”!!!!!!???? We as children never questioned this? We just went sure aight move on?! Please this man has the biggest small dick energy if I ever saw it and I despite him so much. Mans was also never helpful. Ever. I don’t think. I think Mars was better than him though so I’ll give him that.

Artemis:

9.99/10 all hail queen of the lesbians. Mad respect to this woman. In what she stands for, who she protects and in her actions. She’s what I embody when I stand up for myself in fights and when I speak to have my voice heard. I like Rick’s depiction of her and I love seeing her and her hunters pop up in his books. Would love a couple books on the hunters and their adventures. Also I love archery. And I’m biased to the moon because I love the night so she gets extra points for all of that too.

Apollo:

Prior to Trials of Apollo 7/10, after TOA 9.90/10. Yes it’s a big jump but my god did Lester grow on me. Prior to TOA he was pretty average. He was funny, always provided a good laugh to the plot and was always helping the demigods which I loved. But I know he’s an asshole full of himself so I can’t give him any higher than that until he had some character development, which we got in TOA (specifically after Burning Maze). And I really like who he is now and the type of character Rick shaped him out to be. In the myths he’s a big creep, and I still stand by that idea, hence why he doesn’t get a full 10.

Athena:

3.5/10…ughhh I hate to say this. But part of it is the same reasoning I gave about Aphrodite. I just have so many issues with the way she’s portrayed and it’s not accurate to what I believe in my heart she should represent. And as a child of Athena, I feel like Rick then did her entire legacy dirty. She has her moments, but since I can’t even fully recall one right now, it just proves my point. As a goddess as a whole though, what she represents is everything I aspire to be in life. She’s my entire aesthetic of hard work, creativity, and strength and grit, without taking away of being a powerful female. Zeus’ lead strategist like shit, Rick could have done so much. But he did not. And I am thus sad about it.

Demeter:

6/10. I have no issues with Demeter. Kinda boring. I think that’s what most of the fandom thinks as well. She just didn’t get enough screen time or development. I have no attachment to her. I think the powers that she has, and has passed on to her kids is cool though so there’s that. But in the series as well she doesn’t do much. She also (initially) doesn’t fight in the battle of Manhattan so maybe I’m slightly bitter there. But yeah, i’m indifferent.

Hades:

8.99/10 Okay so hear me out I know this man gets so much bad rep in the myths and that’s part of why he doesn’t get a full 9. But I really really love the way he’s depicted in the riordanverse, especially with his entire arc with his kids/specially with Nico. Like literally one of my favourite quotes In the entire series is “my children are so rarely happy, I would like to see you be the exception.” Out of the gods listed here (and excluding Dionysus), he acts like a genuine parent to his kids and tries. And like there’s issues, sure, but he works on them. And since so much of the first series is about how the gods are neglectful, seeing him change and seeing him fight for Nico is my everything.

Poseidon:

7.1/10. Honestly this feels too high considering mans was nearly If not just as bad as Zeus in keeping it in his dam pants. His points come from treating Sally like the queen she is, and trying with Percy (albeit too little too late but I can see the minimal effort). That being said, he’s really shitty in the myths so I can’t really give him anything higher than this. He’s barely a dad, and sees Percy more as an ally than an actual son or human being that needs attention. I like him more in Fanon and the way that I write him lmao because I humanise him. But I won’t lie he’s dilf material, and I still like rick’s depiction of him.

Hera:

3/10 I’m surprising myself with this rating because tbh I might even push her to 4.5 just because she’s so consistent in her own goals and agenda, and that perseverance is very admirable even if it was at the cost of some of my favourite characters. She was very much two faced though and fucked around stuff that she should have stayed out of. Her hatred for literal children though is a bit problematic. I have no attachment to her but I admire how much she just wants a family. However she just really needs to assess how she approaches that since it’s a bit messed up.

Zeus:

-5/10 I really don’t Zeus, his character, him in the myths, everything about him. He gives off the vibes of a man who abuses the power that he was given. And I don’t like that. It makes me uncomfortable and I don’t like him at all. His treatment of his children, of the demigods, and the way he governs Olympus. Not a fan. I could rule Olympus better and I’m a mentally unstable, serotonin deficient 20 year old with a hyper fixation on greek mythology and Minecraft. However despite not liking his character, I think Rick does a great job at depicting him accurately to how he was in the myths.

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jessiebanethedragon · 3 years ago

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White Sands Warm the Cold Sea (pt 10)

Summary: the reader, betrothed to a disgusting Coruscanti Lord flees her home world and lands herself in a plethora of trouble, a ship of clones, and one pirate captain whose cold exterior needs much more than the tropical seaside sun.

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Warnings: Swearing, takes place in time periods where women have dowery's and suchlike. The readers' dad and betrothed are asses.

Chapter Ten: The Echo

Greeting your companions the next morning was just as awkward as bidding them goodnight after the debacle last night. You’re stiff, bruised, and the dirtiest you’ve ever been in your whole life. Lightly retying the corset to support yourself, you collect Gonk from where she’s curled in the Hammock and brace yourself before heading out onto the deck of the ship. It’s already very bright out, and the crew is as rambunctious as ever. With the Captain throwing orders around here and there, Tech and Wrecker working the sails, and Crosshair shouting back down to Hunter. It’s marvellous how they work together when they're not disagreeing about something.

You feel Gonk leap off your shoulder with a curious noise before bounding away, her speckled wings bouncing behind her. She looks clumsy for a lizard, but then again, how many lizards did you know that have feathers?

“Good Morning!” Wrecker shouts to you when he notices your figure. You give him a smile and a small wave. Tech returns your smile and watches you as you glance around. Appreciating the sea and the vessel you’ve found yourself on.

The water of the Corillian run is a rich blue with just enough green to look magical. And the waves the churn underneath you look more powerful than any carriage or speeder you’ve seen before. Just as you’re wondering how deep it is, there's a commotion behind you. Hunter is glaring deadly at Gonk, who’s held by her neck feathers in front of his face. And from the way her wings are flapping and her front claws grab at him, it's no mystery where she was, or where she’s trying to go.

“I’m sorry!” You say, gathering your skirts and rushing over. The Captain glares at you as he shoves her into your arms, her grey feathers bunching up as he does so. His tunic is rolled up again, and in the morning light you can see the symbols on his forearm more clearly. Traitor.

When the wooden ruler collided with your desk you yelped in fear and surprise. Was it the first time this had happened? Absolutely not, and if these lessons continued this way, it certainly wouldn't be the last.

“Pay. Attention.” The Pantoran woman growled at you, she was very smart. You could just tell, and the fact she was instructed to dumb down your education infruiated the both of you. “As I was saying…” She eyed you - a dare to look out the window and start daydreaming again.

“Teach me about the war.” You blurted out the statue of the emperor they were erecting, catching your eye again.

“This is a language class.” She said with a sigh, before placing the ruler down. “I’m guessing you want to know about the Clones.”

“How did you kn-”

“It’s all anyone ever talks about.” She interrupted you, which was shocking in itself, but not unwelcome. Perching herself on the birch coloured desk, you found her staring out the window as well.“It’s well known that there was scarcely a better soldier than a Kaminoan Clone. And so when the war came to its end, and the Jedi went rouge, well they hardly stood a chance. Those who sided with them were caught and killed or branded traitors. Why they let any of them survive is beyond me, but those clones were so fiercely loyal. Some of them just couldn't shake that. No matter how hard the Kaminoans or the Emperor tried, there were millions of them, and some…” She paused for a moment, glancing back at the door as if someone was watching you through it.

“Well even if an inhibitor chip is 99.99% effective, out of one million, there will still be one hundred defects.”

You try to stop staring, you really do. But by then Hunter has caught your eye, and is glaring even harder than he was before. Cautiously you take a step back, finding yourself in the company of clones is one thing, those willing to defy Nython, another. But enemies of the Galactic Empire was a different kind of dangerous.

“Courtesy of your betrothed.” The Captain grits out, and whatever softness was there from the night before is gone. Scared, you clutch Gonk to your chest like a child would a blanket. “What did you do?” You ask, looking him up and down. Even with the scars on his knuckles of cuts and burns, He didn't look like the horror stories you’d been told as a kid, in fact, he didn't look dangerous at all. But the symbols were there, scared into his skin some time ago. Something flashes in his brown sugar eyes, like the ping of a blaster bounces off of his iries in the heat of battle. Like he relives combat right in front of you.

“What we did was rescue a prisoner of war.” He spits, walking towards you and backing you into the banister that overlooks the pain part of the deck. “That hammock you’re sleeping in belongs to someone.”

“I’m sorry.” You say trembling. Looking to the side to see Wrecker place a firm hand on his sergeant's shoulder and pull him firmly away from you.

“Echo’s was in the hands of the Techno Union for some time.” Wrecker explains defusing the situation. “He’s waiting for us on Alderaan, after some much needed rest.” Hunter, who’s now swatting Tech - and whatever device he’s trying to scan him with - away, seems to be ignoring you.

“I-I didn’- I didn’t mean…” You tell Wrecker shakily.

“I know, and it’s okay.” He says with a smile, but Hunter's words resonate with you. Haunting you of acts you have had nothing to do with.

In his cabin Hunter throws his hat as hard as he can against the wall. He hates you, he hates the Empire and most of all he hates Nython. And what’s even more infuriating is how innocent you are, how your morales are driving you away from your betrothed, and how you saved the shit disturbing reptile that seems to like himself and yourself too much. And no matter how much Hunter wants to despise the empire, if it’s still filled with people like you, it means there’s still something to fight for. But if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t know how much fight he's got left.

☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠ ☠

“What did he mean, courtesy of my betrothed?” You have to walk quickly behind Crosshair in an effort to keep up, his long legs easily outpace you and even though you’re both still injured he moves quickly. You follow him into the storage area that you’re all too familiar with, nearly bumping into him when he stops to look for a specific crate.

“Why don’t you bother Tech with your questions?” Crosshair says pushing boxes around.

“Because you’ll tell me the truth, no sugar coating.” You tell him, nudging him aside with your boot as you lean over to grab what he couldn’t reach. Perhaps being smaller wasn’t a disadvantage after all. Proudly you hand him the strange looking fruit.

“I need the whole crate.” Crosshair tells you unimpressed, before giving you the singular Meiloorun fruit and leaning over the stack of crates again. “And to answer your question, he was talking about the scars on his hand.” You lean against the tower so you can try to read his face as he yanks the crate forward.

“The burns or the wounds?” You ask, mulling over the fruit in your hands.

“Same thing.” Crosshair explains. “From a mission on Kashyyyk, Nython had the whole forest alight, and Hunter got trapped behind a blast door.” He watches as you cover your mouth with one hand as you remember the boasts, the gloat, the pride Nython had when he recounted the battle.

“You should’ve seen it,” There’s awe in Crosshair's voice now. “The Regs wanted to label him MIA, but that's not Hunter, not the Sergeant of ‘Force 99. When the squad hoisted him into that medical bay, he was barely alive.”

“No wonder he hates me.” You breathe, looking at the clone in front of you who shrugs.

“Don’t take it personally, he hates mostly everyone. We all do, it’s…” Crosshair stops and composes himself, like being honest or genuine with you is a weakness. “Nython decimated everything in his path. There’s what? A handful of Wookies left, half of those are thanks to him and all he can think about is how many he didn’t save.” You gently place your fruit on the box Crosshair is standing before you with. “It’s all a bit narcissistic if you ask me.” You smile at Crosshairs sass.

“You’d know.” You counter, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Thank you, for being honest.” You tell him, catching a smirk as he starts up the stairs.

“It’s one of my many endearing qualities.” He says, before shouting to his brothers about something that you don't even bother trying to understand.

With a look back at the hiding spot that you had chosen when you boarded the ship, you start up the stars and get back into the daylight. The captain is still gone, but Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker are each peeling a Meilroon fruit. You smile at them, they look so picturesque right now. The sea in the background and the three of them scraping the tough skin off of the fruits with knives. You’re reminded of children's picture books of pirates mulling over gold.

“Hey! What’s so funny?” Wrecker calls when he sees your big smile. Walking over, You plant yourself on the floor leaning against the banister.

“I half expected you all to break out into a sea shanty.” You tease reaching up to pick up a fruit.

“Ha ha.” Crosshair said dryly, giving you the handle of the knife to take from him to peel your own fruit. “Try not to chuck it at Tech again will ya?” you nod and very carefully start running the blade along the fruit.

“So no sea shanties then?” You ask, popping a piece into your mouth.

“We don’t sing.” Tech states.

“Yeah we do!” Wrecker argues, jamming his knife into the lid of the crate, “we know that one from-”

“Ferrik if you start singing that again.” Crosshair grumbles.

“THERE ONCE WAS A SHIP THAT PUT TO SEA” You all cringe when Wrecker starts shouting rather than singing, both of his brothers shout back simultaneously for him to stop, while you giggle from your spot on the floor. You could almost get used to their company, that and the fresh salty sea air, you are already beginning to enjoy the life of sailing. On the second floor, emerging from the captain's quarters, Hunter generally steps. Even someone without enhanced senses would have heard Wreckers incessant shouting and he has every intent on giving the three of them a lecture when he hears something else entirely.

“There was once a soldier who carried a mighty sword, and he had saved the village, oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.” Your voice accompanies soft taps to the wooden boards to create some kind of beat. The sound stops as soon as it starts.

“Don’t stop on our account.” He hears Tech's voice, and a stealthy Hunter moves to try and get a better view, he wants to know what you’re up to, and if you’re still trying to manipulate his crew.

“I’ve been told I have an atrocious singing voice.”

“It’s better than Wreckers.” Both Crosshair and Tech comment simultaneously. And Hunter hears you let out a half laugh. Some kind of reserved dainty thing that has him rolling his eyes.

“There was once a sailor, he had travelled the globe, his love he was chasing. oh lei, oh lai, oh lord.” You continue tapping again, “And there will come a captain who’s heart is completely pure, he will find those who are lost, oh lei,...” He hears you stop. As something catches your attention. And Hunter takes the opportunity to make an appearance.

You hear the captain’s footsteps before you turn your gaze away from the birds flying alongside the ship. “Who let the Aaray get a’ hold of a knife again?” He says looking down at you, the fruit and the blade. Hesitantly, and with only half of the Meilroon fruit peeled you give the knife back to Crosshair the same way he had originally given it to you. Pointing the handle towards him whilst gently holding the blade.

“I wasn’t going to…” You start.

“Going to what? Try and kill one of my crew again?” Hunter raises an eyebrow as if he’s daring you to disagree. You take a deep breath in, and hoist yourself onto shaky feet. Wrecker gives you a hand when your legs shake still in pain. Letting out your breath you lock eyes with the captain.

“I understand your hatred for that man,” You begin softly.

“No.” He snaps, “you don’t” You plead with his unforgiving eyes, and the way his half tattooed face scrunches in annoyance.

“You can’t be reasoned with.” You say hopelessly, knowing that whatever you say, it won't be enough.

“I should not have to reason with the likes of you.” Hunter bites. And at this point even Wrecker has given up trying to reason with him. Behind you, Tech’s Holopad beeps.

“I am not my Fiance!” You exclaim. “And yet you attribute all of his crimes to me, even the crime of trying to rid myself of Ny-”

Before you can react, Hunter moves fast as lightning, a hand on your throat, his own vibroblade dangerously close to you, bending you against the banister that stops you falling into the abyss alone. The three others brace themselves and when they move to help you, stop at the growl of anger from their sergeant.

“You do not. Say that name. On. My. Ship.” He tells the trembling woman beneath him.

“What happened to you Sergeant?” You breathe out, searching for the man that his brothers seem to think he is. Everything they tell you about him, every ‘he’s not like this.’ All of his actions point to the fact that he is like this. Something changes in his face, like he remembers where and who he is. And like Hunter is on fire, he steps away from you. The second there's room, Wrecker forces you behind him protectively.

“Sarge.” Tech says, his voice echoing like blaster fire in the mountains. “I think you should come with me.”

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necros-writing-stuff · 3 years ago

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Fucked up love interests you say? Can I request Eden getting sick of Avery keeping his kid from the woods, so Eden breaks into Avery's place, ties to to a chair and makes him watch as Eden ruin's his kid. He wanted to rail them in his cabin, but fucking them stupid in front of their dad works too. Better if it starts as noncon, but the PC is addicted to Eden's cock by the end.

Would Avery get off on watching this, even with how much he hates Eden?

Got a little carried away here, so under the cut for length

Eden comes into town looking for supplies, same old, same old, only this time his eyes end up falling on non other than stuck-up Avery coming out of an expensive looking jewelers with the prettiest little thing Eden has ever seen following soon after.

He's overjoyed when you call out "Father!" to get the businessman's attention. He's your dad, not your daddy. That's good, Eden doesn't like the thought of that fucker having touched you.

Immediately, fantasies about bringing you home and having you sit in his lap so you can cockwarm him while he reads rush through his mind, and the hunter finds himself trailing the two of you to Avery's car. And memorising the make, model, and licence plate.

It takes so long to find out where you live. Big, fancy house with a pristine garden - no suprise there. Then he has to watch and find out when you'll be home alone. Easier to get you that way. Then he had to call in favours from Bailey to get some stuff to disable the over the top security system.

One day, when he's walking past, he bumps into Avery by accident. The rich prick had the audacity to sneer at him and tell him to get out of the neighbourhood, that his mere presence is bringing down the property value, before shoving past and entering his gated community. Looks like someone hasn't grown since school. If he'd stayed a moment longer, Eden would have started throwing punches.

Instead, Eden's plans to get you alone and take you away secretly morph into something else. Something more vengeful.

When the time comes, he slips in through a window and silently makes his way up to the master bedroom. Avery sleeps peacefully, in silk pyjamas of all things, and the hunter gags him before he begins binding the man. He wakes up half way through, but its too late at that point.

Avery struggles against the rope and tries to scream, skin going red at how angry he is. Its funny to see, actually. Such a high and mighty man reduced to this. The hunter drags his catch out of his room, across the hall, and into the room of his sleeping prey.

You wake up, hearing the racket, and freeze in shock at what you see before you yell out for your father. Still, you hide beneath your blanket - as if it'll protect you from anything. You don't need to be scared anyways, you're about to have the ride of your life.

Eden drops Avery on the floor, maybe purposely letting his head bounce against the wood for his own entertainment, before marching over to you and ripping away the covers.

Kick and scream all you like, the hunter finds it easy to tear your clothes off and wrestle you into submission. You're so small and delicate, you need to be protected and cared for properly - and considering what happening now, clearly the businessman isn't capable of doing that.

Just like your father, Eden ties you up. Unlike him, you're not gagged. He wants to hear you beg for him at some point tonight. Wants to hear you moan out when you cum on his prick.

"You did a good job making this one," he praises as his hands trail all over your bare skin. Avery still flails on the floor, voice going hoarse from all that screaming he's been doing. Tough luck, he's stuck until Eden decides otherwise.

You're crying and shaking, begging to be let go as the hunter flips you onto your back and spreads your legs to get a good look at that pretty little hole. His mouth waters, and he can't help himself from having a taste.

He's never gone down on someone before. He hopes you enjoy the way his tongue teases, the way he fucks you open with it.

"Please, mister, please stop!" your voice quivers as you say it, obviously affected by the stimulation he's giving you. Maybe you're just trying to put up a front for dear old dad, so he doesn't think you're a whore. It's okay, Eden will still give you what you need.

Your taste is amazing, he thinks. You're amazing, body so perfect, voice so sweet. He could tongue-fuck you all day, but tonight he has other things in mind.

The hunter is breathing heavily by the time he comes up for air, desperately hard in his pants. He nearly tears them when he shoves the fabric down his thighs, letting his massive cock out and laying over you so you can see exactly how deep it will go. The thing reaches your belly-button.

Eyes wide, you try to wiggle away. "No, it's too big! Please, it'll hurt, mister, please-"

Not listening, Eden presses the thick head to your spit-slickened hole and starts pushing in, savouring how you gasp out and go stiff. A loud bump from the floor let's him know Avery is still trying to get loose. Frustrated screams tell him it's not coming along great.

Bottoming out, Eden leans over your body and starts fucking into you like an animal, squeezing out every whimper and whine that he can from between your lips.

Full, is how you feel. So incredibly full and it's hard to breathe from how this stranger batters your poor hole. Each drag of his dick against your gummy walls send a million jolts of pleasure through your body, and you want to cry harder from the guilt that it makes you feel.

Your father is there! Bound, being forced to watch as you're raped - as you enjoy being raped - in your own bed! Who was this man, anyways? A competitor? No, he's not dressed like a man your father would bother with. He looks wild and uncaring. Rugged. And unfortunately, handsome.

"Such a delicate thing, aren't you? You'll make a wonderful spouse when I get you home," he says as he pounds away, before turning once again to Avery. "You're not going to see them again after tonight. You don't deserve to have such a sweet thing as yours. Can't even protect them in your own home."

It makes you nauseous to hear the plans he has for you. That you're about to be abducted and kept god-knows where by this mad-man with a grudge. Will he hurt you? Will you be forever kept captive?

You can't look at your father. You can't see the heartbreak, anger, maybe even disgust that could be on his face. That would be a sight that would haunt you in your dreams, and you want your memories of him to be good ones. Like the times he takes you for icecream after you do well on tests, or takes you to wonderful parties where you can wear your best clothes. Instead, you study the wild man above you. Focus on the stranger's long hair and muscled body. Try to steady your breathing and hold in moans as a coil forms in your stomach.

One last time, you attempt to get away, only to be pulled right back onto his length. The change in angle makes it hit something inside of you just right, and you keen in a high pitched tone. So good, it feels so good, and you hate this man for it.

Eden loves the dazed look in your eyes as he hammers at that special spot. How he can see all logic leave, replaced by lust and a need to get off. So he stays consistent in his movements, giving you exactly what you need, so he can feel you tighten around him, ready to milk his cock like a good little pet.

Back arching, your whole body shakes as you reach your peak, incoherent babbling falling from your mouth. Its all so hot, so addicting to see, and the hunter joins you in your bliss soon after.

Dick still twitching, Eden stays buried inside of you. He'll be starting up another round in a minute or two, but he wants to treasure this moment. Treasure how you've become putty in his hands, not even whining when he leans over and kisses you. You have such soft lips.

"Good pet. There's plenty more where that came from, I promise. You just have to keep being so well behaved, just for me," he whispers into your ear, placing butterfly kisses along your neck as he does so.

Reluctantly, he pulls back. A certain someone had gone quiet, and the last thing he needs is the bastard getting free and starting a fight.

Luckily, Avery is still where he left him. Must have gave up fighting, instead laying there with his cheek smushed against the polished floorboards, breathing hard through his nose.

"Tired already? Come on, you've barely moved. Fucking pathetic, really. What, don't love your kid enough to make a real effort to save them?" there's no reaction from the businessman, so Eden pushes further. "Nah, you're all performative. Only pretending to care so they'll be obedient and keep your reputation up, right?"

That gets his attention. Earns Eden a seething glare that only makes him laugh. Then it's back to you. To caressing your cheek as he starts pumping his hips again.

"I'll care for you, genuinely. I promise. You'll never have to doubt me," he coos, a hand coming between your legs to play with your sensitive sex. You arch up into his touch with a moan, too tired to deny your body the things it seeks.

Preserve your energy, you tell yourself. Be pliant and good so you can fight back later. Don't think about how right it feels to be impaled on this man's prick, how mind-blowing your orgasm was.

Limp, covered in his own sweat, and full of solemn defeat, Avery watches from across the room. Sorrow is what he feels, along with rope burn across his skin perfect, cared for skin. Sorrow that, yet again, Eden has won. That he can't break free of these ropes despite working so hard to keep in shape. That his only child is being defiled by such a brute.

Avery can't do anything as his baby is fucked into oblivion over and over again. Can't tune out the moment you stop begging for it to end and instead ask for more. You're only trying to please the hunter, he reasons. Only being submissive so you aren't hurt, you're smart like that.

At least, that's what he hopes.

#Eden the Lonely #Avery the Moneybags #younger au #tw noncon #spill your guts #anonymous

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skellebonez · 3 years ago

Note

I hear people talking about Sandy basically being a human shield and it gave me an idea with #79 for Silktea Angst. Huntsman notices some scars on Sandy's back and when he tells Huntsy he got them while protecting his friends it leads the spider demon to think, less then highly of team MK. (not that he thought highly of them to begin with) - Pixel Anon

Well I can’t argue with that! After all... I was hoping to expedite a chapter two of a certain fic I started...

How did you get that scar?

Huntsman went over his clothes one last time before returning back to the spider lair, making absolutely sure there was no left over cat hair clinging to his coat or pants. No one could know where he just was. No one could know anything about the conversation he and Sandy has just shared. No one could find out about...

A shudder wove its way up his back, born of concern and fear of being discovered. He couldn’t believe he told Sandy that much.

But he did. He hadn't told the other man every single thing, but if anyone knew he'd certainly have hell to pay. Something about Sandy, the warmth and openness he held despite what Huntsman had done, just drew all of it out of him. Maybe it was the fact that the warmth he exuded was such a stark contrast to the coldness added to his home since the Lady Bone Demon arrived.

He couldn't even blame it on the idea that the tea was secretly a truth serum. He'd told everything before he'd even taken that first sip.

And then that smile...

A thump resounded through his chest.

... oh.

"... oh no," Huntsman whispered to himself as he snuck back into his home, careful not to alert anyone to his presence and careful not to let his internal revelation stumble him as he felt that same odd thump in his chest as before. The one from when the other smiled at him, the second smile that was far softer than the ones he was greeted with before.

It was at that moment Huntsman knew... he may have messed up.

"You're back sooner than I expected," Sandy said nonchalantly as he opened his door at 5 past midnight the next evening. He gave him the other kind of smile, the one that was too wide and open for his liking, and welcomed him inside without question.

Huntsman hadn't needed to sneak out this time at least. He'd had time to plan, make sure that he covered his tracks properly like a good hunter did when going after their prey, and to come up with a reasonable explanation for his absence in the night. Given what they were planning behind the Lady Bone Demon's back that was easy enough.

While Syntax would be a better lead for finding certain things they need they needed him back in the lair to plan and build. Huntsman, on the other hand, could sneak and find and bring things back much easier than his more technologically impressed counterpart. And while he may have lied about where exactly he was going to hopefully get what he needed, Sandy...

He knew Sandy wasn't just muscles and tea, even if he had mocked him for it before. The boat he lived on was proof enough of that.

"I want to tell you more," he started slowly, sitting down on the couch and watching as the calico cat that had approached him last time stood and sat on the arm across from him. "And... Ask for your assistance."

Sandy paused what he was doing, tea cups only left partly filled for a moment before he continued as. "With what?"

"My Queen has a plan," Huntsman began, and this time he didn't hold anything back.

He told Sandy about what really happened at the festival. How he'd seen her true face after stealing the demon revealing mirror. How MK had snuck into their lair and had fought Spider Queen in shrunken form (he did not miss the shock and confusion and then a sad realization on Sandy's face at this revelation, but shouldn't he have known that already? it wasn't that long before he'd gone to retrieve the flower in the first place). How they had a plan, something that may just be enough to halt her provided they were able to complete it. How he and his two counterparts had looked at their plans and realized they may not have enough time on their own.

How Sandy's offer was probably one of the only things he could think of that could help them at this point. When they were quickly running out of time.

Sandy had brought him some tea half way through his explanation and said nothing the entire time. Just kept watching him and nodding his head to show he was listening.

"And now you know exactly the depths of the trouble we're in," Huntsman finished gravely. He held his empty cup in his hands, glowering down at the loose leaves in the bottom.

"I'm gonna be honest with you," Sandy started, swirling his own cup with a far off look on his face. "I didn't... I didn't know most of this. MK never told us about going into the sewers."

"What?" Huntsman asked incredulously, looking at the other in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"I am!" Sandy insisted, face firm and worried. "Until last night I didn't even know it was the Lady Bone Demon you were working for! He hasn't told us any of this, just that someone was working with the Spider Queen and that's it. This explains his reaction to the game though..." He trailed off, looking deeper into his cup as if the tea would spill all of the secrets he needed to know.

"I thought heroes were supposed to be more honest than that." Huntsman scowled, jolting a bit as the calico climbed into his lap. At least this time he didn't have to worry about removing every cat hair, stray cats were common in the city and it wouldn't be odd for him to encounter one while out, though he would certainly still try.

"MK's a good kid," Sandy said softly, standing with a sigh and rubbing the back of his neck. "But... I think he thinks he has to deal with this on his own. To prove something."

"That's stupid."

This time Sandy leveled him with a glower, rough and harsh and not unlike the one he was met with during their fight. It made him freeze, a cold shudder running through him at the memory of the scenery around them he'd watched whiz past him as he ran.

The mountain that was more crescent moon hole than mountain now.

But that glower only lasted a moment, Sandy sighing and rubbing his face. He looked... tired. More tired than just from staying up late... had he slept after their last encounter?

"MK's not stupid," he defended as he sat back down. "But I can't deny that his choice to not tell us anything, no matter the reason, is foolish at best and dangerous at worst. I need to talk to him."

"Will he believe you figured all this out on your own?" Huntsman raised an eyebrow. The calico's claws dug into his legs as she, he was certain the cat was a she now, made herself comfortable.

"No. But I don't have to tell him you told me now if you want these two visits to remain a secret. I'll tell him you said something when I got the flower that was making me worry and that I put the pieces together over the last few days."

This made Huntsman pause himself, looking at Sandy with a narrowed gaze. "That's... shockingly generous of you."

"I know what wanting privacy feels like," Sandy said easily and something akin to a cold knife stuck itself in Huntsman's stomach as he remembered their fight once again. "...Thank you."

Again, this surprised Huntsman (there was a lot of that about this night it seemed). "For... what?"

"Telling me all this," Sandy said with a gesture of his arm and that damn smile. "You didn't have to. But you trusted me enough to do that anyway."

Trust... did Huntsman trust Sandy? Or was his just concerned enough for his Queen and his own life to push any distrust aside for the sake of their survival? Or was he just lonely with only a distracted queen, his old companion, and the newest addition who he already didn't see eye to eye with as regular company that didn't show frustration at his presence? So lonely that someone smiling at him so genuinely made his heart (yes, he was certain that was his heart now) thump harder than he ever remembered it doing in his life.

"... don't mention it," it what he chose to reply with instead of confronting any of those thoughts head on. Especially that last one.

He could unpack that later. Or never. Preferably never, but something told him that wasn't going to happen.

"Well!" Sandy suddenly announced, standing up and clapping his hands dramatically with that too wide smile back on his face. "I'm hungry! And I have just the perfect snack for this next batch of tea!"

Before Huntsman could argue that he wasn't hungry himself Sandy had turned around and was off into his kitchen, the sudden movement making the calico cat startle and jump off Huntsman's lap.

And then the spider demon was alone.

The temptation to take what he needed from the boat, wherever it may be hidden, and leave was strong. So strong. But he knew that if he did that the rest of his plan would be for nothing. He knew they needed more time and that wasn't something they could buy. Not anymore, not when the Lady Bone Demon had so much of what she needed already. But more help could make up for that time... and as much as he knew that his Queen would be furious with him for going behind her back, for seeking help from one of the Monkie Kid's friends of all people, he cared more about them living than her wrath at this moment.

Maybe he would have felt different if he was faced with that wrath head on, but he wasn't.

So instead, for whatever reason he told himself that wasn't just "sheer curiosity", he stood and followed the other man part way into the kitchen as quietly as he could manage and watch. And then he noticed something he'd seen before.

He couldn’t help but stare. He had noticed them during their first encounter on his boat, but hadn’t paid attention, really. Too focused on the conversation at hand and worrying about how this could all go horribly wrong. But now... now he couldn’t help but stare at Sandy’s back, wide and vast and muscled and scarred. Little nicks and wide chasms of slices and cuts and stabs littered his spine and shoulders, each of varying levels of age and healing. So much more than on his chest.

Sandy said he didn’t fight unless he had to, so... Huntsman had to ask.

"How did you get that scar?"

"Which one?" Sandy countered almost immediately, and Huntsman realized he may have been more aware of his surroundings when in his own home than Huntsman had given his credit for.

"Any of them. All of them. Take your pick."

He didn't look away from his back. Sandy didn't turn to face him.

"Most of them are old," Sandy started, the scars moving as his shoulders moved to prepare whatever it was he was making. "Pretty obvious some of them are recent. I told you I don't like to fight, but my friends..."

Sandy trailed off, most likely looking for the right words to explain. But Huntsman realized the implication long before he had the chance.

"Don't tell me you've been making yourself a meat shield for your friends," he said with a scowl. The idea of him doing that for people who were supposed to be heroes... for some reason he didn't like that at all.

"I wouldn't put it that way," Sandy countered, turning around with a plate of some kind of cup up sweet. "They don't really like it, but if my friends are in danger I want to protect them. Sometimes I forget I'm not invincible like other people."

"Wow, sounds like bad decisions are just a theme for us," Huntsman said under his breathe with a scowl, regretting saying that the second it left his mouth.

Sandy hadn't seemed to have heard him though, or if he did he made no indication that he had been offended by the statement. Which... seemed to be a pattern with the other. He didn't seem to get offended by much unless you were hurting his friends directly.

... Huntsman realized he had no idea what that felt like on either end.

But it struck him as odd, and foolish. His friends should be able to take care of themselves. He'd seen even the human scholar fight during the festival and in the celestial realm, he wasn't nearly as strong as everyone else but he put up a decent defense. For Sandy to jump in front of them to take a blow, and for them to allow him to do that...

He scowled even deeper than before. Had they no pride? No shame in letting someone else take the hits for them like that? Foolish indeed!

"You gonna sit back down?" Sandy asked after a moment, shocking Huntsman from his thoughts, gesturing to the couch. "You still haven't told me what you need."

"You sure you trust me enough to give it to me?" Huntsman asked as he sat back down, reaching to push away the plate of sweets from his side of the table. He had no interest in food at the moment.

He didn't get to do that, Sandy's hand reaching out and grabbing his wrist instead.

His hand was warm and firm and calloused from years of whatever it was he had done before and from working on tech. His fingers slipped under the cuff of his coat slightly and Huntsman could have sworn that the other man could feel how fast his heart had begun to beat in response.

"I told you before," Sandy started, pushing his hand back away from the plate. It was that Huntsman realized he had slipped something into his hand. "I don't trust you, not yet. But I offered you that second chance."

"Y-yeah," Huntsman stammered out as he wrist was let go of. He yanked it back, looking down at what was in his hand. Another tea bag and a different sweet. Store bought and wrapped. A simple fruit flavored hard candy, nothing more. But given to him all the same. Something he could choose to eat when he wanted... or not at all. Maybe that meant something, maybe it didn't.

The warmth that seemed to linger on his wrist felt like it did though.

"Now, what do you need? I can't guarantee I have it, but I'll do my best to help."

Huntsman's scowl remained on his face as he explained what materials they needed and what they were hoping to find to expedite a few certain old creations in their building of what they needed.

His scowl remained as Sandy handed him everything he needed, bidding him a safe return to his home with a yawn when he made his leave.

It remained as he rushed back to the lair, back to his Queen, to present the treasure trove they needed to get everything back on track. As Syntax looked at him in suspicion. As he returned to his own quarters holding his wrist, wanting to feel the same warmth around it that was now missing again. As he snuck a cup of hot water into his room and he dipped the tea bag into it and waited.

It only dissipated as he opened the hard candy, popping it into his mouth as he took a sip of the new tea.

The natural sweetness of the new tea tea mixed with the mouth punching sourness of the hard candy.

Huntsman couldn't help but smile, just a bit, as the flavors mingled in a way he knew many people would find unappealing. But he loved it. Sour and hard mixed with sweet and smooth.

The big guy was more insightful than he thought.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #ship fic #slow burn #sandy #huntsman #silktea #this burn is so slow #it is kinda ridiculous #prompt fill

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imaginarydesires · 3 years ago

Text

Pedro Pascal

Character Preferences

How They React to Seeing You Happily in a New Relationship ♡

Warnings: jealously, angst, sad shit

Notes: it’s gender-neutral!

❥ Dave York

He knew he shouldn’t care that you had found a new relationship. After all, he was married. But even besides that, he had plenty of opportunities to be with you - or at least try to be with you - plenty of opportunities to flirt and show his true intentions, but he never acted on them. Now, he watched you happily with another and his chest clenched with jealousy and regret. The thought of killing them had crossed his mind, but he pushed it away quickly because you seemed happy, and if you were happy he didn't want to be the one to take it away from you. You noticed his change in demeanor. He was more professional. He made less jokes and avoided eye contact. You hated it, but had no idea why the change happened so suddenly. You considered the idea of it being jealousy, but quickly brushed it away. He was married, and certainly if you could watch him with his wife for years, he could watch you with your new partner and still act amicable.

❥ Din Djarin

He is undeniably in love with you, and you both know it. You pined over him for what felt like millennia, trying to convince him to accept your affection, but repeatedly he declined stating you deserved better than a dangerous helmeted bounty hunter with a primary commitment to his creed. Eventually, you found another, and you were happy. Din pushed you away even more than before. He tried to leave you alone completely, wanting you to find a new life without him and worrying you would never move on if he was still there, but the universe seemed to bring you together. He talked to you only when you spoke to him and tried his best to stay strictly professional. He hated his helmet for keeping you apart, but he was grateful the beskar hid the pain in his eyes every time he looked at what he couldn't have.

❥ Ezra Prospect

You deserved to be happy. He wanted you to be happy. Yet he couldn’t push down the feeling that you were meant for him. Watching you in a relationship with another was painful for him, but he refused to let you go. He’d be your friend, trying anything he could to get you alone in hopes you’d realize the connection between you. He’d take his pain out on your lover by using his words to confuse and injure them while simultaneously flirting and enchanting you with poetic phrases. He would do just enough for you to see he that he loved you but not enough for you to push him away.

❥ Frankie “Catfish” Morales

Watching you with another was an intense struggle for Frankie. He had dreamed of a life with you and worked hard to get it. Everything he did was rooted in wanting to provide a life for you filled with security and happiness and to be a man you would be proud of. But unfortunately, his good intentions caused tension because you didn't want a perfect man with his life together - you wanted to grow with him and support him through his journey, but he was too focused on being the best man that he didn't see you slipping away from him. As much as you wanted him, you couldn't just wait for Frankie to get his life together and be ready for you, so you found someone else. As soon as he saw you, he was filled with regret, overthinking everything he had ever done and wondering how he let you slip through his fingers. He stayed your friend, despite how much it pained him, because you tried to wait for him and he pushed you away, so he would wait for you as long as you'd let him. He never tried to break you up because your happiness was more important than you being his. He just waited on the sidelines, hoping you'd realize you were meant for each other.

❥ Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

He denied his jealousy, but the pressure that built in his chest every time he saw you with your partner was irrefutable. He tried every coping mechanism he could think of - masking his pain with rivers of alcohol and crowds of women - but you were the first one he had truly fallen for since the passing of his first love, and you were not easy to forget. He continued to flirt with you, using all of his best lines and calling you sweet terms of endearment, even if your partner was right next to you. When you asked him about it, he shrugged you off, acting as though he had no idea what you were talking about. But even if you weren't together, you were still supporting him, pointing out his spiraling habits and reminding him you were there for him through anything. You thought you were helping, but it only made things harder for him. One night, after drowning himself in booze, he called you and confessed everything - how much he cares about you and how hard it has been to watch you in a relationship. He tells you he will wait for you and that no matter what you do, he will always love you.

❥ Javier Peña

You never knew how sharp Javier's tongue was until you got into a new relationship. He's constantly masking his hurt with sarcasm and unplayful banter. You reciprocate his same energy, which only fuels his negative attitude. One day you get into a fight and both go too far. You have a long, deep talk about how much you care about him, and how you just wish things could go back to the way they were before, when you two were friends. He agrees despite knowing he desperately wants to be more and makes a genuine effort to be a good friend to you. He hopes that by being there for you, you'll admit you want him as much as he wants you.

❥ Marcus Moreno

He had finally let himself fall for someone again. After the passing of his wife, he thought he's never find love again, but then you came along. So when he found out you were dating someone else, he was heartbroken, but he hid it well. He suppressed his emotions because having you as a friend was better than not having you at all. He tried to move on, and told himself that if it was meant to be, it would be in time.

❥ Max Phillips

He never thought he’d care about anyone or who they were dating. He had only cared enough for a fuck and a quick bite. But as he watched you with your partner, smiling and wrapping your arms around their waist, he felt an unfamiliar strike of jealousy lull through him - and he did not handle it well. He flirted with you even more than he did before, trying every trick in the book to sabotage your relationship. He compared himself to your partner, putting them down constantly. He described in detail all of the ways he would be better than them. He told himself he just wanted to bang you, but in reality, he desperately craved to have you be his the way you were theirs.

❥ Maxwell Lord

He's as sweet as ever to you, making sure he is the perfect gentleman and that he compliments you every day. But if there is a way he can put your partner down, he's doing it. He's never handled his emotions very well, and this was no different. He didn't realize how much he wanted you to be his until he couldn't have it, and now he is even more determined. He'll make excuses for you to stay at work late, and he'll ask you out constantly, but make it sound like a platonic gesture. You don't even notice his simple tactics until your partner points it out, but then Maxwell will try to make your partner sound manipulative and jealous. He stops eventually, or at least genuinely tries to stop. But only because you call him out on it and tell him how hard he's making your life. He cares about you too much to be the cause of your unhappiness. So, he sticks to the occasional sarcastic line towards your partner and just tries to be there for you as much as he can so you know he'll always want you if you want him.

❥ Oberyn Martell

He’s not necessarily jealous of the relationship, but instead he struggles with seeing you so committed to another person. He constantly flirts with you, reminding you that polygamy is a beautiful way to maintain a relationship. He insists on taking you out often whether it’s him going on a walk with you or inviting you for a drink. He’ll approach you, not minding the presence of your partner, and say, “Certainly you won’t say no to the Prince of Dorne?” Eventually he becomes so determined to make you his, he’ll flirt with your partner as well, trying anything he can do dismantle your commitment to monogamy.

❥ Pero Tovar

The life of a mercenary was not glorious and it did not call for an easy family life. He was away for months at a time and when he returned, he was only home for a few days. You deserved better for a husband, he thought. He strolled into town after a long job, immediately going to see you as he always did. You greeted him as usual, but it didn't take him long to notice the sparkling diamond ring on your left hand. He knew the day would come, but he dreaded it. You tried to introduce them, because the thought of not having Pero in your life, even as a friend, was heartbreaking. He refused and left town. You lived your life, but always looked toward the end of the street, hoping your mercenary would one day come walking down it to see you again.

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damerondala · 3 years ago

Note

🍒 Okay tub time with Kix? 😗👌🏻 Exquisite. So good. Where do i find such a caring man ugh and a clean bathtub chores suck

New Cherry Thot of the Week… This one’s hella self-indulgent but don’t worry bestie, i’m dragging you along for the ride too… Picture it: The Marauder, 19 BBY (did i spend 3 minutes looking that up for this dumb joke? yeah…) Somehow, you and I have joined up with the Bad Batch on some kind of mission. Details don’t matter because the important thing is we’re sharing a tiny spaceship with 5 hunks. 🥰 But obvs we have our favorites… I’m going with Wrecker for you (i know you love Hunter too, but just hear me out, this thot has a purpose) and Crosshair for me.

But here’s the thing. We somehow figure out they like us back (maybe Tech spills the beans), AND they have a bet going… Who can win us over first? Because these 2 are always competing over something with each other right?

And like hot damn, but also ohh there’s so much we can do with this info 😈 We both start teasing our respective guys, leading them on a little, not giving in to their flirting or anything so they can’t say they’ve won the bet for a while. They get more frustrated. More… pent up… And… well… so do we…

Uh oh. Maybe we can’t play this much longer. Maybe one day it’s too much, and one of us races to our crush prepared to just kiss them silly, only to find they had the same idea. And then afterward we try to find the other, and discover they couldn’t hold out with their guy either 🙈 And maybe it’s awkward, maybe Wrecker and Crosshair argue over who actually won forever, but it was kinda weirdly fun anyway. We’re happy, and happy for each other. /EndofSappyStory 🍒

cherry. my love. my life.

this might be the best thing that you have ever gifted me holy fuck the way i BLUSHED while reading this??? whooooooo jesus i love this so much!!! 😭 okay lots to unpack here:

1. excellent golden girls reference again. made me giggle and i appreciate the research tech would be proud of u hehe

2. you and i being bffs in this thot made me so happy aw

3. EXCELLENT CHARACTER CHOICE FOR US OMFG i couldn't stop thinking about the "don't worry wrecker you'll top him next time" "no he wOnT" while reading bc omfg those lines applied to this kind of bet????? AAAAHHHHH IM HAVING A CRISIS

i'm gonna write this in sections, actual encounters with the boys happen in sections 3 and 4 with our sexy murder toothpick man being up first! also this is gonna be pre-omega but post-echo joining the batch

self indulgent filth and fluff in the form of some reader insert thots below ;)

18+ as always kiddies. i really hope you enjoy! this was so fun to write

section 1: the bet

so i imagine this happening right after you guys joined the squad

and it certainly didn't take long for crosshair and wrecker to realize their feelings for you two beautiful women, although one was more brazen about his feelings than the other

one day when hunter had sent you and your friend into a market to pick up a short list of supplies, they got to talking

crosshair made an offhand remark about his girls’ ass which made wrecker fidget, he never was very composed when it came to pretty girls and this caused all the other members of the batch share knowing looks and smirks

“wrecker if you’re trying to be discreet about your feelings for ___ you’re going to have to do stop fidgeting.” tech noted, rolling his eyes when wrecker started stuttering out excuses but he was cut off by echo

“give ‘im a break. at least he isn't as vulgar as crosshair”

“you’re just jealous she doesn't flirt with you, mir'osik” (i had to search up insults in mando’a and this one means shit for brains and when i tell you i died laughing okay anyways sorry)

this made echo roll his eyes, deciding it wasn't worth it to fight over whatever stupid insult the sniper threw at him

wanting to stir the pot juuust a bit, hunter proposed a challenge for his vod. he should be the good influence on his brothers, but he couldn't help but want to see where these crushes would take them

he could hear the girls’ heartbeats intensify around their respective crushes anyways, so he had a pretty good feeling that they felt the same about his batch mates

“don’t know about the rest of you, but i want to see who can win his girl over first” this was met with a smirk from crosshair, a blush from wrecker, and side glances shared between echo and tech

“easy.” crosshair drawled, he knew he had this in the bag

he may be quieter than the others but boy was he was observant, taking note of the way her words had a hard time flowing out of her pretty mouth when he was in close proximity of his girl

wrecker on the other hand didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, in his eyes she was just so sweet. innocent, really. she wouldn’t want the same treatment he knew crosshair had in mind for his girl

the peering eyes of his squad made the large man cave with a sigh, “fine.”

section 2: the slip up

weeks had gone by since the boys established their little competition and you, your friend, and tech were working on some small repairs around the ship

you and your friend had noticed some increased...flirting from your respective guys

crosshair paid more compliments and lingering touches that seemed genuine

and wrecker flirted the best way he knew how; lifting too heavy objects and reaching for items in the tall cargo holds, handing them down with a gentle smile

tech, being the most blunt member of the squad, commented on the whispers you exchanged, dropping a surprising truth on both of your ears:

“well of course they are trying to flatter you. how else do you settle a bet to win each of you over the fastest?”

tech watched the two women freeze before him, sharing shocked looks before turning their attention to him, realization hit his gut like a crate of durasteel, and he swallowed under your stern gazes

“what do you mean, goggles?”

“they...like us?”

tech’s cheeks burned red hot, was his brow beginning to sweat? maker, it felt like it

this was the one time he didn’t feel like explaining himself, instead choosing to coyly excuse himself from the two pairs of watchful eyes

he left you and your friend to stare at each other before both rolling your eyes, “well now we know who spills secrets the easiest” your friend chuckled, shaking her head

after a few moments of silence you both spoke up, deciding there wasn’t that much harm in playing along with the two members of the batch. you were fond of them, after all

you both continued chuckling about the situation, mostly out of disbelief that the flirting and teasing wasn’t just a hopeful facade your minds made up

once the repairs were completed, you both retired to opposite ends of the ship, minds full of deliberation of how you would handle this new information

section 3: the gunport

you were sat in the gunport, musing the situation you found yourself in, hands picking at your fingernails in an effort to curb your nerves

on one hand you didn’t want to ruin the bond you had with the marksman

what if he was just flirting out of pure boredom? there isn’t much to do in a confined ship like this anyways, he might as well pass the time flirting with a woman in his general vicinity

but it just had to mean something

no way the whispered compliments - most of them accompanied with a wink, no less - meant absolutely nothing to him

you decided that you had enough, this was going to eat you alive if you didn't get to the bottom of what was going on in that head of his

with a huff, you stood straight and turned around to exit the space

but you were met with a silver haired man climbing up the ladder

you both froze, both internally freaking out at the basically forced confrontation

oh gods what is he doing up here? did he read my mind??

...shit what do i do i forgot everything i was going to say to her

you nervously chuckled, figuring that you were going to go talk to him anyways so might as well get this over with

“crosshair... um i need to ask you something”

“no, i need to tell you something cyar’ika. i’m tired of sitting here and watching you walk around all day, not being able to show you how i feel.”

now that left you speechless, mouth slightly hanging open in shock to which he deeply chuckled at, “hope this isn't the first time i leave you speechless.”

there it was, that smug attitude that made you roll your eyes but also ignited a heat in your lower abdomen

with a smirk, you decided to play it back to him. two can play at this game, lanky

“well it’d be pretty rude to not demonstrate what you had in mind, trooper”

this was the green light crosshair needed, quickly heaving himself up the last few rungs of the ladder, his hands immediately finding your waist and snatching you close, pressing a firm kiss to your lips

your hands flung up to catch the sides of his sharp cheeks, humming at the feel of his scruff under your palms as you coyly push your tongue through his lips, hoping he’ll welcome your tongue into his mouth

he does, and you are exploring each other in the most delicious way, causing soft moans and sighs to leave both of you

while you were entranced by crosshair’s mouth on yours, you didn't realize he was pushing you back onto the chair of the gunport until you were sat down and he was kneeling in between your legs, his nimble fingers clutching your thighs and hips

in a matter of minutes crosshair had managed to get your bottoms completely off, your slick panties hooked on one ankle, and your thighs over his shoulders

for a man who could run his mouth, he sure proved it

expert fingers entered your weeping cunt while his tongue prodded your bundle of nerves with sharp, quick strokes

he’s beaming at the way you’re trying to support yourself on shaky arms and trapping his head to your cunt with the backs of your calves, the sight of your head thrown back and the whimpers coming out of your mouth making him harder than he had been in a looong time

his fingers and mouth brought to your orgasm quick and hard, nearly screaming his name as your toes curled in bliss

he took his time in working you through it, making sure he could draw it out. he could get used to this.

when you can finally open your eyes and look him in the eye, you’re kissing him again, enjoying the moan he lets out at the feel of your tongue tasting yourself on him

you decide it’s his turn, and you’re pushing him into your previous spot, smiling at the way his eyes slightly widen at the way you took charge

crosshair wants to say some sexy remark, something that he knows will get you to sheepishly smile and look away but he can’t, not with the sight of you sinking down to your knees and slowly pulling down his blacks, keeping eye contact and granting him a playful glint in your eye

you can't help but want to tease him just a bit, running your tongue over the bulge in his blacks

he tries his hardest to not be loud but maker, is he loud when you finally take him into your mouth and down your throat

you’ve quickly found that he enjoys eye contact while in this vulnerable state, nearly shaking when he sees your eyes brimming with tears trying not to choke on his length

one hand sneaking down to alternate cupping his balls is what pulls him over the edge, crying out with your name living on his tongue

you swallow his release, again utilizing eye contact to your benefit and drawing out another prolonged moan from him

it makes you smile in pride, loving how this hard, unyielding man turned into such a mess while you had your way with him

crosshair pats his lap and expectantly looks at you, waiting for you to perch up onto his lap, straddling him

despite being a skinnier guy, crosshair wraps you up in the warmest, most secure-feeling snuggle you have honestly ever experienced

after sharing such an intimate moment with you, he began whispering sweet nothings into your ear, about how gorgeous he thinks you are, how much he cares for you

it’s honestly kind of shocking but welcome nonetheless, cross can be kind when he wants to and you are very glad that this was the outcome of your dancing around each other for months

section 4: the interruption

you retreated back to your room, honestly just wanting to sleep and get your mind off the day

it was becoming harder and harder to not just pounce on wrecker, but you didn't want to just give it up so quickly

and to be honest, you had a bad feeling that tech was full of it

you struggled with self esteem issues for as long as you could remember, so it was difficult to believe the 'genious’ of the batch when he said that wrecker had feelings for you

despite your trepidations, your mind couldn't stop thinking about him, his broad shoulders, toned arms, huge thighs...

your hand slithered down your torso, slipping underneath the waist band of your bottoms and slowly circling your clit as images of wrecker effortlessly lifting anything that crossed his path filled your mind, honestly wishing it was you he was lifting

perhaps lifting you to brush your pussy on his nose, his tongue exploring your womanhood enough to make you shout his name

but apparently that last part was not all in your head

although you didn't shout it, wrecker definitely heard the way you whispered out his name in a moan in the dark room

he really hadn’t meant to barge in, but after a few knocks with no answer he began to worry

he came by to tell you how he felt with absolutely no expectation of sleeping with you. truthfully, he gave up on trying to get into your pants, he was willing to lose the bet with crosshair, he knew he wasn’t as smooth as his brother anyways

while he obviously would never be opposed to making love with you, he figured that you deserved to be courted beforehand, and he thought there was no way you’d want to share your body in such an intimate way with somebody like him

but the sight he was greeted with was enough to prove himself wrong

you, spread out on your bed with your hand moving diligently under your thin lounge shorts and you moaning his name made him subconsciously let out a loud gasp

that you absolutely heard, eyes snapping open and hand coming to an abrupt halt, ripping out from under your bottoms

“wr-wrecker! what are you doing here?!”

“i- uhhh- i didn’t see anything! erm, i'm sorry, mesh’la”

by now you had your blankets covering you, despite being fully clothed, and were looking at him with mortified eyes

wrecker still stood in the doorway, unsure if he should let this opportunity pass him by

if you had told him to leave he would, he’d do anything you said, but the fact that you made no move to force him into leaving made him linger

“i'm...sorry if im overstepping mesh’la but i just- i can't stop thinking about you. and well,” he gestured to your form, still cradling the blankets to your heaving chest, “i think you think about me too”

of course you couldn't deny it, he had just seen you pleasuring yourself and moaning his name, what the hell kind of excuse could you come up with? none, that's what

his sheepishness made your heart soar, realizing he probably was just as nervous as you

deciding to cut him some slack, you slowly rose up, blanket falling to the ground as you sauntered over to his frozen frame

whispering, “you're right. do- do you want to stay?”

you had the poor man at a loss for words, eagerly nodding at your proposition and allowing you to take his hand and lead him to your bed, pushing him down so you could straddle his lap

his large cock bulging through the thin fabric of his blacks and pushing against your already hot cunt made you cry out

pure adrenaline coursed through both of you, hushed moans leaving your mouths as you steadily ground down onto him, his hand tangled in your hair and the other kneading your breast

your lips broke away from his mouth and you smirked at the look on his face, absolutely fucking giddy that this was finally happening, he had been dreaming about this moment since he first saw you

the sounds he made while you sucked on the sensitive skin of his neck encouraged you to slip a small hand down the front of his blacks and pull his thick cock out, heat flooding your body at the hiss he let out when you started slowly jacking him off

your legs were in the perfect position for him to push your shorts down and over your ass, fingers picking up where you left off and circling your clit, working you open to take one of his massive fingers

the more you squeezed his throbbing shaft, the louder wrecker became

and not wanting anybody to hear you two fooling around, you glued your mouth to his, tongues mingling in heat

the excitement of the entire situation made it not last very long overall, but you both had intense orgasms regardless

wrecker curled his - now two - fingers inside you just right, and your continued squeezes and strokes of his cock made him finish, his cum coating your palm

both of you were shaking, muffled groans and gasps filled the room until you were coming down from your simultaneous orgasms

after coming back down to the moment, wrecker chuckled and flopped down on his back, bringing you with him to crash onto his chest

you both giggled like a couple of smitten teenagers who were experiencing their first love, relishing in the butterflies in your stomachs, we just did that

“been waiting a long time to do that, doll” wrecker’s big hands rubbed up and down your curves, closing his eyes and smiling at your laugh, “i know”

his head shot up at that, “you know?” the way his eyebrows furrowed up made your chest tighten with admiration, smiling cheekily down at him, “of course i do. tech told us gals.” you leaned down to place a peck on his chin, “you think you won the bet?”

“dunno. but I feel like i just won the entire galaxy.”

it honestly didn't make much sense in your post-orgasm daze, but the endearing tone made you smile and kiss him once again

section 5: the hallway

after your respective encounters with your boys, you ran to your friend, bumping into her in the hallway, the tight space echoing your giggles and shrieks of excitement throughout the entire ship

you both were so flustered and giddy that you were talking over each other, just needing to tell her about what just happened

“i just sucked-”

“you will not believe-”

you both stopped and laughed even harder, holding onto each other for support, then your friend took a deep breath and smiled, “you first.”

the sounds emitted from you two not only made your boys smile and their chests swell with pride but also coerced some chuckles from the other members of the batch

they all knew how long these...events were in the making and how eager cross and wrecker were becoming

and in all honesty they were glad their brothers had found happiness in two girls like yourselves

nice, funny, and obviously in love with their brothers

they really could’t have asked for better women to take care of their family

taglist! (fill out this if you’d like to be added):

@djarrex, @pastelpanda19, @rebelpitstop, @sageislostinspring, @shiny-mando

#ily babycakes hope you liked this #thank you for giving me such incredible thots #you're the best #🍒 anon

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sinqrowithascythe · 3 years ago

Text

Torn Families, a RWBY story

Hello there! it has been a few days now and the story is ready, so here it is!

Just a warning first though, this story does feature gore, character deaths and angst.

Everyone had their reasons for attending Beacon academy, and most would tell you without so much as a second thought.

“As a girl, I wanted to be just like those heroes in the story books... Someone who fought for what was right, and protected people who couldn't protect themselves!” Ruby Rose, 15yr old combat prodigy and leader of team RWBY.

Others, however, aren’t as comfortable in disclosing the truth about their circumstances, like: The beautiful, yet closed off Blake Belladonna, Faunus in hiding and secret Ex-White Fang agent.

“The White Fang is hardly a bunch of psychopaths. They're a collection of misguided Faunus.”

Most would assume that this is where the list ends, but there is another. A third option, or category, where they’ve been truthful but they just haven’t shared the full truth.

This is where the scraggly hero of our fable is found.

When asked for the reasons behind which Jaune Arc has strived to be a Hunter and train in Beacon (which is a regular occurrence among the student body, it’s pretty obvious why), our bumbling blonde will reply with something along the lines of “To become a hero” …. “To become a great Hunter, like the warriors in my family” or “To help people” which is true….

But…there’s more to it, there always is.

Rarely does someone ever question the reason he chose this path or after any event that led to such a decision, but it does happen occasionally. Some of the first conversations with his friends and even Ms. Goodwitch herself raised the question, with Jaune himself being quick to dismiss it or just repeat himself. Forcing the subject to be left alone question, with, replacing the young Arcs would-be interrogators interests with dissatisfaction and a quick change of topic. This is where the truth remains hidden, a burden laid heavily on our young Knight’s shoulders, where he intends to keep them.

But that wouldn’t make an interesting story, so here we go!

This tale sheds light upon that which our very own Jaune Arc would keep hidden, partially for the sake of his friends, but also to keep Jaune from crying himself to sleep… again…

Long before Jaune was launched from the school’s cliff faces into the emerald forests or the acquisition of his “Vomit Boy” moniker, as courtesy of Yang, the Arc found a burning resolve to fight the creatures of Grimm and protect those who could not protect themselves that rivalled the very star he stood under.

The Arc family estate was a large, dark brick house held deep within a forest, found on an island located beyond the western coast of Sanus. Close enough to still be considered a part of the kingdom, but also far enough for people to be left in relative peace from large city environments, bandits and any extremely dangerous Grimm.

Here, the Arc family lived and prospered, laughed and loved for days and years on end, with the only real worries being the evil bath times and dreaded bedtimes, family’s patriarch receiving minor wounds from guarding the small island village (But everyone just said he looked cooler anyway, so it’s a win!) or the sisters engaging into yet another fight over something that seemed to shake the very foundations of reality to them at the time.

“That’s MY hairbrush!!”

“You have, like, 10, just let me borrow this one!”

The house was run by the matriarch and the eldest of the sisters when their father was away, keeping Grimm from presenting danger to the village where they lived. The younger sisters and Jaune often played their days away, when their mother wasn’t home schooling them in the study where she spent most of her time, even outside the education of her children.

One sunny, beautiful day, with the sun was streaming through the leaves and trees and bringing light and life to all the woodland, waking to every insect, animal and plant found within, this family would be shattered.

The green glow of the forest created a feeling similar to a protective aura of warmth and protection. Here, the four youngest Arcs find themselves running past all manner of compassionate and cool streams with looming, yet comforting trees, hiding amidst the natural playground formed by the rocks of landslides long past and prickly piles of twigs that once held strong to their larger companions. The day was not unlike any other the children had been allowed to previously play in, perfect.

The juvenile Arcs were playing their usual rounds of “Hide and Seek” or “Tag” or some of their own invention, when the eldest of the assembled four found an oddity, one which had never caught her attention before. The Arc estate held no boundaries, save the forest itself as it was separated by a long stripe of a field before another forest began, not five meters away from their own, yet the children had never travelled, nor noticed this odd circular emptiness beyond their own patch of trees. “Yeah, that is weird” The three younger members of the Arc clan agreed, “Let’s try playing in that other forest! I bet there’ll be even better hiding spots and even bigger trees to play in!”

And so, they did just that.

Back at the Arc family homestead

The eldest four daughters of the house were treated to a rather large shock while preparing lunch as their mother had, seemingly from no-where, screeched “NOO!” like a banshee might and flung herself out of her chair, falling to their kitchen floor. You see, Jaune’s mother was paralysed, on the account that after her thighs reached halfway down, they were missing, an incident that predated Jaune’s memory and of which she refused to speak, hoping she never had to tell her children and shatter their innocence. And though it placed her within a wheel chair that stopped her from performing the tasks that the oldest of the Arc spawn find themselves occupied with most days, her smile was as radiant and genuine as when her first child was born, finding real purpose in her role as a mother.

Each did their best to help their fallen mother, only to be thrown aside, much harder than they even knew their mother could push. “One of you, run to the village wall as fast as you can, find your father, tell him that Jaune and the triplets have left the stave!”

“Why?” “What does that mean?” “Huh?” Each questioned, their faces twisted with confusion and fear.

“Just GO! Right now! We don’t have time!” The oldest among the females of the home all but roared at her children, her terror evident on her face, scaring the 4 younger women. Pushing her fear aside, the eldest to ran out the door and sprinted down the trail into the town, where the guard and her father stood vigilantly, while her younger two sisters helped their mother back into her chair and checked to see what had happened.

“Mom, what’s happening?” “You scared us” “Why’d you tell Saph to get dad?”

“I’m fine, but your siblings are in danger…”

“How? We thought they were playing outside” “Yeah, they play in the forest every day! Why’s it so dangerous all of a sudden?”

“Hmmmmm…. The forest that surrounds the house is… special, you’ve seen how there’s something of a circle-like-field around the house cutting us of from the rest of the woods?” She questioned, obviously impatient and uncomfortable, much to the dismay of her daughters, never before seeing her so scared in their lives.

“Yeah” “uh-huh” They replied in kind.

“Well, your mother has a special power and can sense, and almost see, what happens in this circle, if you can imagine” Chuckling the last part, the nerves still very present in her voice. “Normally, your siblings always play in this circle, where it’s safe and where I can see them, but, because we live so far from town the woods next to ours can be filled with scary, dangerous creatures. I don’t know why, but, the triplets and Jaune have wandered into that forest and your father needs to find them, before something bad can happen.” looking away through the kitchen window, into the picturesque scene of the serene forest outside.

Meanwhile, Jaune and his elder sisters were playing a renewed game of tag in their new playground, their eldest sister rushing for her father, while the three under her found comfort in their mother, as a new found fear grew for their youngest sibling’s lives. This new version of tag involved a “Strength in Numbers” strategy, where the title of tag didn’t pass on to another player after contact, but spread so that the match only ended when everyone was ‘it’, basically creating two teams of ever-growing chasers and continually dwindling chase-ies.

Jaune, despite taking part and enjoying himself immensely in the game, found himself growing rather nervous, as he could have sworn, he had heard his mother mention not to go into the forest beyond their own at some point before, but none of his sisters could remember and said he just imagined it. Which inevitably led to them teasing him and saying he was a “Scaredy cat!” which, to a seven-year-old boy, was an offence of the highest order. So, with new resolve and determination, Jaune played with his sisters in the forest, running deeper and deeper into the unknown woods, finding a new and magical parts of the surrounding nature with each new game.

Nothing, it seemed, could go wrong for out four young Arcs, however, we all know what follows these kinds of observations.

The fight had started as nothing more than a simple debate. “I SO DID tag you!”

“Nu-uh! You only got my dress!”

“Did not! I tapped your shoulder! You’re it too now!” “Nu-uh” “So, too!”

This repeated for a few minutes, the two eldest of the triplets bickered back and forth until…

“Jaune!” Both shouted in unison, the fire in their eyes and voices startling the poor boy “Y-yeah?” His anxiety growing, as each girl looked ready to throttle one another all the way home.

“I totally got her, right!?” “No, she sooo missed me, you saw right!?”

“Uhhh…” Was his only response. Truth be told, Jaune hadn’t seen the incident in question, he was too busy trying not to get caught himself, he only came up to them when he saw they were fighting again, wanting to help.

“C’mon! I’m fine, right!?” “No, I definitely caught her!”

Jaune was not comfortable in this situation. In fact, he was scared, scared that his sisters were fighting and felt useless that he couldn’t do anything about it. This is until an idea came across his mind.

“What about Rock, Paper, Scisso-!” “AAAGGGHHH!!!” The high, piercing wail that blocked Jaune’s solution had come as a shock to everyone. They were all frozen in place, the fear and pain that filled that scream had turned them all to stone. And a sudden realization donned upon Jaune, one that only seemed to strengthen the anxiety currently lacing his blood.

“W-w-wait, th-there’s only three of u-us here…” Upon a quick count, they found that they were, indeed, one sibling short. “The scream must have come from her! We have to find her, she’s in trouble!”

“Maybe she just found a big spider! She’s terrified of them!” The oldest of the group stated, a fact which was well known within the Arc household.

“We just have to find her and get her away from wherever she found it!” The younger of the girls offered. This conclusion helped each of them relax, as spiders were the most dangerous of the creatures that they knew to inhabit the forests that surround their home. It brought them comfort, but they weren’t in their woodlands anymore.

They moved quickly towards the origin of their sister’s scream, until they unfortunately found her.

In a small secluded area of the forest, a clearing in the trees where the river widened considerably and was surrounded by large stones that easily dwarf the giant that was their father (as far as they were concerned), where the sun seemed to shine atop the water so bright that you could swear it was fragmented like the moon and resided in the river itself. This was where they found her.

However, the beauty of nature wasn’t what made them stop, nor was it the sight of their sister happily frolicking in the water after overcoming her original fear and relief flooding the trio of loving family members. No, it was the exact opposite to all those beautiful and much more preferable sights (Hell, they’d prefer to have found a spider, really).

What stood in the clearing, over their sister, was a monster.

A monster so dark, it made the moonless night sky seem bright. With markings so red, the blood that splattered its maw seemed pale by comparison. All of this packed onto a fur-skinned nightmare product between man and wolf. And their sister… stuck underneath.

No, stuck wasn’t the right word.

The creature didn’t hold her down, it didn’t need too, the girl below it simply couldn’t move. She was missing large chunks of her little body. They could see her shoe on the other side of the clearing, her foot still occupying it. A few feet from her there was some bloody assortment of meat, maybe something from inside, no-one could tell. Her neck had also seemed to disappear and had replaced itself with bloody chunks of something.

Each child, each one that still had a beating heart, remained completely still. No movement, no thought and no emotion, still enough were to make a statue jealous. The shock they felt was all they could feel, their brains refusing to process the sight before them. The first to break free of the paralysing chains holding his mind was Jaune, still looking into the large, half lidded and dull eyes of his older sister. The eyes that had once been so full of colour and everything right with the world, Jaune had found comfort and happiness in those eyes’ countless times before, being the two youngest of the family had created a close and tight bond between the two. And now, they laid in the red, stained grass, upside-down, staring at him with nothing, endless nothing, a perfect void, drained of any and all life.

Fear and sadness welled within Jaune, faster than the tears that had decided to occupy his eyes could, with his sister’s emotions following in turn.

The negativity had come crashing out of them in waves, comparable to a landslide, only cursing them further. This alerted the creature, its posture bolting upright slouching over the corpse of the young girl turned lunch. It turned at the waist, revealing just how long its arms really were, easily twice Jaune himself, each one holding a different end of the girl’s right arm. What was most terrifying was its canine-shaped head. The lupine resemblance almost uncanny, the bloody maul full of teeth as long as it’s claws and wet with a liquid that Jaune tried his best to forget the source of. The ears atop the skull of the creature pointed toward the sky, looked sharp and swivelled around, until stopping, pointed at the children.

What scared them the most were its eyes, the cold, harsh eyes that were the antithesis of its prey. Where the girl’s eyes had been full of life, joy and hope, the creature’s own orbs reflected hate, despair and death. It’s fitting really, that the eyes of love and hope had been filled with the deepest and most alluring of azure blues and the ones that killed them were as red and terrifying as hell itself would be.

The creature dropped its piece of lunch on top of the rest of its forgotten meal and lowered itself onto all fours, its impossibly long arms stretched forwards and its rear in the sky behind it, as a low yet rumbling growl escaped from between its teeth. Now, instead of pure shock rooting our children to the ground, it was the very fear and anxiety that told the beast they were there. And, in the space it took for Jaune let go of the breath his fear forced him to hold, the creature pounced.

In the few precious seconds, it took for Jaune to turn and push his sisters, the nightmare before then had covered the distance between them and stood right behind Jaune. This registered for Jaune as three large, ragged, diagonal cuts in his tiny back. Falling into the grass of the forest, quickly watching the green around him fill with his own red.

The creature ran after the girls, desperately attempting to flee, knowing its second victim had no chance of moving now. The two remaining girls were screaming and running, terrified of the lupine monstrosity behind them, not knowing that the very fear fuelling their escape them was exactly what made them even more delicious prey.

Jaune watched from his position, chin first in the dirt, as the beast caught up to them and doubled their pace, springing forward and turning to face his sisters, seeing the very same claw that had Jaune glued to the ground tear one of them in half, before she could even stop running. Her pieces staining the grass red in front of her remaining sister. The final sibling came to a stop before the stalking nightmare. Sobbing messily, she looked up from her tattered sister into the eyes of the monster that killed some of the best people in her life and seemingly paralysed her only brother. She began to beg, praying to the brother gods that, by some miracle, some stretch of the universe, that she would survive and make it home to her loving mother, sisters and father.

Her prayers and begs fell upon deaf ears as the beast shot forward, grabbed her temples between the daggers that made up its teeth and separated the top half of her head, sounding off with a sickening crunch mixed with a strangled cry of pain and torment.

And just dropped her body to the ground, discarding her like a toddler drops a toy they’re bored with.

Jaune watched the entire scene in front of him, unable to move or even think, terrified beyond all action or comprehensible thought, not that the he would have been able to move anyway, as the creature made its way closer to him, no longer moving in leaps or flashes, but walking, as its prey was rendered immobile by the large injury in its back. Jaune closed his eyes, tightening them as he braced for the pain he knew was coming, just as it had come for his sisters.

Jaune was so focused on biting back anything he felt and so drowned in his own fear and blood, that he didn’t hear the gut-wrenching scream of agony and desperate sorrow. Nor did he hear the heavy foot falls as something approached him and the beast, racing from elsewhere. What he did hear was the sound of his father’s shield deflecting the bloodstained claws, he heard and watched as his father, blinded by pure animosity and heartache forced the creature of death back and, eventually, decapitate it. In that moment, time had seemed to freeze, Jaune saw the fury and heartbreak on his father’s face, twisted into a cruel grimace, the image burned into his memory, alongside the corpses of his sisters.

Time only began to move again as Jaune’s father let out another cry, louder than all his previous screams, as he began to hack, slash and break any part of the Grimm before him, only stopping when its corpse had fully dissipated, as all Grimm do.

Only then did his father stop, drop his weapons and fall to his knees, weeping at the loss of his four youngest children, screaming and sobbing with his face in the dirt, almost seeming to burrow into it, wanting to find the blood of his children. Jaune watched as his father broke apart, small pieces at a time, tears flowing down his face, almost unending. But, as all things must ends, so too did the tears, sniffles and sobs of the town guard, his face steeled into a grimace of loss and sorrow, the piece of himself being replaced with a resolve, a vow to return his children to their home and never let thing happen again.

The Patriarch of the Arc family stood to survey the damage done to his blood. And here he froze, seeing the unsteady rising and falling of his son’s chest, missing pieces being filled properly again as new tears of joy and relief flood the father’s features. Sprinting to the wounded boy’s side, screaming his name and asking question he already knew the answer to, Jaune’s father dropped to his knees once again, but this time to help his damaged son, searching himself and the land around for any way to comfortably bring his son home. With the frantic search proving to be utterly fruitless, he simply, yet gently, picked Jaune from the ground and placed him on his unarmed shoulder.

Jaune’s father began the trek back to the family home, creating false promises, repeating apologies and crying, for the duration of the trip, moving as fast as possible, without causing the silent boy on his shoulder any more pain that what was already silencing him.

Jaune, however, heard none of these promises, “sorry” ‘s or sobs, only seeing the gleaming, blood-spattered shield, collapsed around the sword at his father’s hip, only able to focus on the warmth his father spread and the thought “That would have been useful” while staring at the blade’s handle, before the pain took his consciousness from him.

Jaune spent the next few days drifting to and from the conscious world.

He knew that he had been taken home, he remembered hearing gasps and cries upon his return, pain from the dressing of his wounds and more crying. Curiously enough, he also heard shouting, which would be normal enough in a house of ten... now seven. But this was different, most shouting normally came from his sisters, arguing about one thing or another or when his parents needed to discipline them, these bouts of shouting, however, came from his parents. They seemed to be arguing over something called “aura…?” Jaune wasn’t sure what if was or even if it was a word, but he did hear his mother scream “I CAN’T LET WHAT HAPPENED TO ME HAPPEN TO THEM, ESPECIALLY HIM!!” To which his father pleaded. “CAN’T YOU SEE IT ALREADY HAS, WE CAN’T LEAVE HIS LIFE IN DANGER JUST BECAUSE YOU FEEL HE SHOULDN’T KNOW ABOUT YOUR PAST OR THR WORLD!!” This is where the screaming stopped, hearing only loud and quiet sobbing and whispering coming from wherever the shouting had. All he really knew was that it scared him.

Jaune also remembered a doctor coming from town once or twice during those days. It was probably more, but he couldn’t stay awake half the time, what with the pain in his back knocking him out every few minutes after he woke.

It wasn’t until a week and a half had passed since the deaths of his family members that Jaune regained consciousness properly. He awoke to the tearstained face of his mother, the tears seeming to have cut long furrows down her face. She almost squealed with joy upon being woken up by her son trying to brush the tears from her face, the pure elation of her son being alive and awake causing more water to leaks from her eyes.

When the rest of Jaune’s remaining family burst into the room, each had similar reactions upon seeing his mother hugging him gently, with him awake this time. Which was then preceded by the inevitable questions, Jaune explaining everything, each detail clear in his mind, when the tears from his own eyes didn’t impede his speech as the emotions finally caught up to him. Often his family sat together for hours at a time, waiting for Jaune to finish crying before he continued.

No harsh accusations followed his tale, nor any blame, simply hugs, tears and promises from his family.

After that day the house flowed back into normalcy, albeit quieter, until three full years had finally passed. The wounds Jaune had received were not lethal nor debilitating, the claws not digging deep enough and missing anything important along his spine, “a small miracle!” The town doctor had claimed.

The town’s people had helped organise and set up, even pay for the funerals. Everyone knew the Arc children and none showed any particular hatred, only the same small loving-malice that followed mischievous children’s pranks and activities. Any and all real hate was directed towards the Grimm that resided in the forest, evident by the furious stares many levelled towards the trees beyond thew village walls.

Eventually, the dull gleam that seemed to cover the eyes of each family member, the same gleam that held the stars and oceans contained within their eyes at bay, disappeared as they could finally move on.

But, never forgetting.

Whenever the children played, they were always supervised, never left alone. Their father had managed a change in occupation and now worked from home as a writer of sorts. Their mother had grown more possessive of her family and Jaune’s elder sisters followed this attitude when it came to him, never letting him be by himself. At first, Jaune was okay with this, even feeling happy and safe from this caged lifestyle due to having seen the reason for its inception.

However, this did not last. Whenever Jaune had asked about the creature, his father only bitterly replied to ask his mother, to which she would say “an evil creature, but, as long as you stay here, you’ll be safe and not have to worry about it”. This never sated Jaune’s mind, but, was the only definition either parent would ever give him. When Jaune would ask to be trained like his father, to protect and kill the “Evil creatures” in the forest, his mother would shoot the idea down in the exact same way, forever denying combat to her remaining children. On this, his parents agreed and Jaune began to lose his feeling of comfort in his protective cage.

Jaune would eventually learn more of his family’s legacy through omitted records of their deeds in the study and from stories his mother told her children and discovers his own drive to become one of the Arc heroes, prompting him to become a Huntsman, despite his great lack of knowledge on the topic (What’s worse is that he doesn’t know just how much he doesn’t know about it).

He finds a way into Beacon and creates some of the best memories he’s ever had, the best friends he’s ever had and even a new family.

And everything happens as we know it will. Friendship. Growth. Happiness. Accomplishment. The Fall. And new beginnings.

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

Hiya again!

thank you for reading my first actual piece of RWBY fanfiction. I made this concept up a few years ago, back when I was (possibly) obsessed with why Jaune knew so little of the world around him, despite a lot of it being vital to being a Huntsmen, So i wrote this little number (I don't know why i made it so dark of a story, but eh).

After rediscovering it, I thought I'd fix it up and post it here and thus, here we are indeed.

I know this doesn't answer how he got into Beacon, but that's not the point of the story in the first place. Please leave any notes of criticism, I'd really love to hear what you though about my story

Anyway, Thank you so very much for reading my work.

#jaune arc rwby #jaune arc #rwby #arc #arc family #hurt #death #gore #saphron cotta arc #saphron arc #comfort #fanfic #fanfiction #dark

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clonecaptains · 5 years ago

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DELIVER ME - a mandalorian fic

word count | 5.7k

rating: m for smut; mentions of forced arranged marriage

summary: mandalorian x reader; The Mandalorian is a bounty hunter - and you’re the bounty. You’re set to marry a man you’ve never even met. The Mandalorian is set to deliver you to him, and he will deliver you - but not the way you expect.

a/n: there’s a handful of planets and places mentioned - none of these are in the star wars universe - i just made them up! also this is my first sw fic - feedback is appreciated~!

Deliver Me

The wealthy king of Alloral'la has brokered a deal with the Zenkoth system’s dignitary. A trading system will be enacted between the two systems after the king’s daughter marries the dignitary. It’s old-fashioned, but since the Empire has fallen - anything goes.

Only no one bothered to ask you if you wanted to marry this dignitary on another world. And this man is truly despicable.

Where you come from - love, the sacredness of marriage, and virginity is part of your DNA. It’s quite easy for others to taint the way of life. This dignitary being one of them, and your father doesn’t seem to mind if he gets his end of the deal. Your life, your love, is being traded for metals to build better cities. “It’s a sacrifice for the greater good,” he told you.

But what good will it do you? You haven’t had a chance to fall in love or see your planet for that matter. There’s an entire galaxy out there, but you’ve been trapped in the walls of this palace for your entire life. All attempts to escape or sabotage your father’s plan have failed.

On Alloral’la, everyone has purple eyes. If you have fallen in love or given your body to another in sexual pleasures, a bright pink circle surrounds your purple iris. Therefore, you’ve never been allowed to leave; your eyes are purple. Pure dark purple. If you’d fallen in love or had sex, that pink would appear - rendering you useless in a trade such as this.

You’d planned for years to sleep with a guard, sex would do the trick to give you the pink coloring in your eye, even if the sex was meaningless. It bothered you for years how readily you were willing to trade such an intimate act to be free. But the older you’ve become, the less you care. Your heart has turned cold to love, you’ve given it up.

So when the deal is made, and you’re to be traded like fine jewels to this dignitary, you decide that if your deliverer won’t turn your eyes, maybe you can find someone else who will.

The Mandalorian is your deliverer. This job isn’t exactly his first choice, but your father is good for the money, and so is the dignitary.

You watch Mando fuel up his ship from the fuel banks nearby in the shipyard. It’s almost time to leave. You’ve said your goodbyes, and when the Mandalorian nods his head, you know it’s time.

You follow behind him in the palace courtyard to his ship. Several guards follow behind with crates of your things, mostly clothes and old books. You observe your quiet deliverer. His armor is shiny but has seen battle. His cape is tattered on the bottom. Weapons are strapped to him in multiple places. It’s a sharp contrast to your flowing gown and delicate hairdo.

A variety of emotions have passed through your mind, but a numb feeling is the most prominent. Saying goodbye to your father was rather emotionless. You’ve not seen much of your own planet, so saying goodbye to your home was a freeing feeling truth be told. But the moment the hatch doors of the ship closed, and your guards were gone, tears rolled down your cheeks. You’re alone now with this silent bounty hunter.

It’s silly you think for him to comfort you in this time of pain, but he does. In his own way.

“Follow me,” he tells you, and he leads you to the cockpit. He motions for you to sit down, and when you do, he sits in the pilot seat. He pushes a button on his gauntlet, and the small hissing sound of a door being opened sounds behind you. Only it’s not a door, it’s a large ball - the doors open revealing a tiny green baby, with grey hair and big ears and bright eyes. It coos at you, and it brings the first genuine smile to your face in weeks.

“May I hold it?” you whisper, and he nods once. Reaching inside the ball, you lift the baby and it coos happily. It grabs your finger and begins to suckle, making you laugh. Holding this small child brings more tears to your eyes. You’re scared. At first you felt nothing, but now you’re feeling everything.

You don’t know what the Mandalorian’s thinking, but you can tell from his body language, he’s uncomfortable. He’s accustomed to capturing bounties that aren’t happy. But this, this is different. You’ve not done anything wrong, you owe no one a debt, you’ve committed no crime.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, trying to suck it up. “I’ve just never seen the stars like this,” you tell him looking out the window. “And I never knew my planet was so blue! I’ve read about this one planet that has blue sands. I’d love to visit.”

“You’ve never left that place, have you?” his voice is quiet, gentle.

“Not ever.”

For reasons unknown to you, you tell him your life story. That you’ve been trapped, that your eyes are still purple. That you’re being traded away. That the galaxy to you means freedom.

You have absolutely no idea if he even cares, or why you’re telling him. But you have an inkling he does care because you know about the Mandalore culture. Your life has been spent reading and learning about a galaxy you’ve never seen. He carries a child with him, which a surprise on its own. You suspect he has heart underneath that cold armor. It might be harder than you thought to get him to take you to bed, he’s not scum. Scum wouldn’t be so concerned about this child.

Your thoughts are interrupted by your own yawn. It’s been a long day.

“Get some rest,” he tells you. “You can take my quarters.”

“What about you?” you ask through another yawn. Your eyelids feel so heavy. You feel like you haven’t slept in weeks. Truth be told you don’t remember when you slept well. Fear of this trade has kept you awake.

Mando answers your question, but you don’t understand him. His voice sounds far away, you’re already drifting to sleep. You vaguely remember slumping over in your chair and feeling him lift you up into his arms to carry you to his bed. It feels like a dream.

When you stir, it’s dark. You begin to panic, for a moment you’d forgotten where you were. For years, it’s been the same bed. Same room. Never anything different. Alloral'la has three moons in the sky at night, you’d grown accustomed to them illuminating your window. Now to wake in complete darkness frightens you. The fear passes when you remember where you are, then your other fear of your destination comes to the light.

You don’t know what you’re going to do, but you cannot, will not marry this dignitary. Thoughts drifting back to the Mandalorian, you think of how his gloves felt on your skin, the cool metal pressing against you of his armor. His voice is gentle, his build is strong. If you were to pick anyone to ‘change your color’, you wouldn’t mind if it’s him.

Adrenaline from fear sets a light in you and you climb out of the bed. Again, you think of him, this is his bed. It’s cozy, soft. Smells clean but there’s a lingering musky smell. It’s masculine. Your bedroom at home is always clean, always perfumed. Never touched by a man. Just like yourself.

Getting up, you turn on the light and find your way to the cockpit. He’s awake, he’s watching the child sleep.

“Everything alright?” he questions, hearing that you’re slightly out of breath.

“I need you to fuck me,” you say louder than you meant. You’re not used to swearing, ‘it’s not ladylike.’

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.” You feel anxious, you need a concrete answer.

“I don’t make it a habit of interfering with clients.”

You clear your throat and turn your head towards the sleeping baby in the cradle. “What about this one?”

“That was different.” He knows you’re right.

“How am I different? I’ve been locked away and am being sold against my will to a disgusting dignitary. Please. I’ll pay you since you need the money.”

“No.”

“Please, you don’t even have to do anything,” you kneel in front of him. “It’ll be enough.”

“Absolutely not,” he grabs your arm to pull you off the ground. You start to yank yourself free from his grasp when a rapid beeping sounds from the console in front of the two of you.

He releases his grip from your wrist to switch off the sounding alert.

“Low fuel.”

“Are we in danger?”

“No,” he speaks calmly. “There’s a planet nearby, we’ll stop and refuel and get something to eat. That alright with you?”

You nod. Your curiosity is piqued, a new place to see and new foods to try.

“Is that-?” you gasp seeing the planet as you approach to land. It’s a rich blue. Even brighter than your planet.

��It is.” His answer is curt, but kind.

“I’ve studied maps of the galaxy. This system is nowhere near my home. Did you bring us here?” You turn to look at him with a gasp.

He shrugs simply. “I might’ve. You said you wanted to see more of the galaxy. I figure we have some time.”

It dawns on you further that he didn’t need fuel. Your heart aches from the kind gesture. It’s more than anyone has done for you in a long time.

Walking down the hatch door, you hesitate right before you should step off onto the blue sands. Mando is ahead of you, the child following behind leaving a little trail in the sand.

When Mando doesn’t hear you behind him, he turns seeing you still haven’t stepped onto the sands. Without a word, he walks towards you and offers his hand. You don’t need help getting down, but he offers it to you all the same. You take his hand, and your heart jumps feeling the sand under your feet.

“It’s gorgeous,” you gasp.

“It certainly is,” he says. You could have sworn he was looking at you, but you can’t tell. The child is giggling in the sand, and you along with him. Looking up at you, the child reaches for you with a gentle coo. You kneel to pick him up and hold him close.

“He likes you,” Mando says walking beside you. You fight a blush wondering if ‘he’ means the child or himself

With a nod of his head, Mando directs you to a restaurant in the small town you’re walking into. Once inside, he flicks a coin to the bartender, and he points the three of you to a table.

When you’re seated you notice a man at the bar who is staring at you.

“Maybe I could try my luck with him,” you say aloud half joking. You lean up to sit more comfortably, but Mando takes it as you’re getting up to approach the man.

“No,” he touches your arm to stop you, “not like this.”

“Not like what?” you’re confused. His hand feels warm on your arm. You don’t realize how touched starved you’d been until you feel his gentle protective hold on you.

“I thought-”

“Thought what? I was going to let that man take me in the back alley?”

“You were ready to ‘take me’ in the Razor Crest not a few hours ago. There’s a whole galaxy out there, don’t waste it.”

“On him or you?”

“I don’t like how he’s looking at you,” Mando grumbles.

“I’m about to be given over to a dignitary who already has 8 wives. He just wants the pleasure of watching my eyes turn pink while he takes me to bed. I will not let that happen. I need to fix it.”

“Not like this,” Mando tells you again.

Your food is brought, and at first it embarrasses you to eat in front of him while he is not eating. But then you remember all the meals you’ve eaten alone with a guard watching over you.

This ‘guard’ is different. He seems to care about you. And a fondness grows in your chest.

When the meal has been eaten, Mando gives another coin to the bartender. You’re making your exit behind Mando when the man at the bar grabs your arm.

“Hey!” you gasp. His grip is tight on your arm, it hurts.

“Let her go,” you hear, and in the blink of an eye there’s a blaster pointed in the man’s face. His grip weakens, and you yank yourself free.

Mando gently touches a hand to your arm, “are you alright?”

You nod. There’s that blooming feeling in your chest again. This time it accompanies a slight ache, a headache. One like you’ve never had before, but it passes quicker than it arrived.

As you walk away you notice a crest on the man’s sleeve.

“I know that crest,” you tell Mando. “It’s from the system you’re taking me to.”

“You’re of high importance if they are keeping tabs on you,” he replies, his pace quickening. He doesn’t like that his every move is being tracked, that’s usually his job.

Once you’re safe on the Razor Crest, Mando does a once over of the perimeter and interior of the ship, just to be sure you’re not being followed again. You take your place back in the cockpit with him, feeling safer by his side.

“Why do you never say the names of the systems?” Mando asks punching in the course in his navigation system. “You know plenty about them, but you never say their names.” He turns to face you awaiting your reply. He means no harm, it’s a conversational question. He’s trying to put you at ease, the guilt of taking you is weighing on his mind.

“I don’t know how to pronounce them,” you blush, sheepish. “All my old-fashioned books, and learning pads never speak them. I usually must guess. I don’t want to be wrong, so I don’t say.”

“The planet we were just on? That’s B’eul. The planet I’m taking you to? Zenkoth.”

“You know so much, I envy your life, your freedom.”

“Others don’t see it that way.”

“So, you never take off your helmet? You can still see out of it. See the universe. I’ve been stuck in the same room, same palace. And I’m about to be stuck in another. I’ve seen more of the galaxy with you in these few days than I ever saw from my old books.”

“When I took this job, I didn’t know.”

There is such gentleness in his voice you get a swell in your chest again. And that strange headache hits hard. It takes longer to pass this time, but it eventually does.

It’s not long before Zenkoth is beeping on the radar. If you could see his face, you know that he’s looking on you with sympathy.

“What’s your name?” you ask him, trying to ignore the sick feeling bubbling up in your stomach. You’re looking out the window over this planet, your new home. And it feels cold. The surface is grey. Dark grey snow is swirling in the air.

“Din. Din Djarin.” His voice comes out raspy, like a whisper.

“I wanted to hate you, for taking me here. But you’ve shown me nothing but kindness. I’ll forever be grateful Din Djarin.”

You sniffle once, then clear your throat. There’s not much to be done now but accept your fate. You say goodbye to the little Child. Leaving him hurts just as much as Din. You’ve grown attached to the little thing.

“Wait,” Din gently reaches for your arm. “I have a plan.”

“To what?”

“To get you out. I could use someone like you to watch the kid. In return, you could see all these new systems.”

“How would it work?”

The less you know the better. Din doesn’t tell you much of the plan, only what you need to know. This place is new to him, so he must do recon to get the lay of the land. He’ll do his best observing while he’s delivering you and when he gets paid. Lucky for him, there is a celebration going on, a wedding celebration. Parties mean organized chaos, which will give him more opportunity to sneak around. And he very well could be invited to the party, that’s happened on more than one occasion.

Din is by your side when you’re introduced to your intended. The room is gaudy and there’s all 8 of his other wives with him. Each one is from a different system, ranging in colors and sizes. Your stomach churns to be among them, and you find yourself walking as close to Din as possible. He touches a gloved finger to your thigh, letting you know it’s alright.

It all happens so fast. The dignitary brings you close and touches his hand to your face. He’s examining your eyes, checking they are still purple.

“Send her to my quarters,” he gives a command with a flick of his wrist, and you’re pulled away. Din is still standing in the center of the room watching you disappear down the hallway.

Cold. That’s how you feel. Cold. You’re not dressed for this cold planet. Your box of clothes had been carelessly left on the Razor Crest. Din was more concerned with your safety, and he can’t carry the boxes on his own. So, they were left behind because no one else bothered to.

You shiver in the bed chamber. You’ve never felt such emptiness in your life. You have hope Din will come, but for now you’re alone. You look out the window and see the dark snow fall. Clouds cover the sky, it’s dreary. You’d do anything to see the three moons outside your window of your old room.

Cringing that the only place to sit in this room is on the floor or on the bed, you choose the corner of the bed. Every sound of footsteps by the door has your heart pounding in fear. When you hear it creak open, you feel all the color leave your face.

Then you hear your name in a familiar voice.

Din turns the corner and into your sight. The very sight of him has your heart bursting, he’s come for you. Your heart is pounding, you feel your head pound - that headache is back. This time it’s blinding white hot pain.

He’s surveying the room, looking out the window for any and all escape routes. He turns abruptly when he hears you wince in pain. Din kneels in front of you and tilts your face upwards towards his masked one.

“I’m too late,” he sighs.

“You aren’t!” you tell him, the headache is gone again. You’re too overwhelmed with fear and emotion to think much of it.

“Then why are your eyes pink?” Din’s voice cracks.

The word ‘pink’ hits you hard, your breath is stuck in your throat. You’re paralyzed, you know what this means.

As if on cue, you hear a booming voice enter the bedchamber. It’s the dignitary. Din is quick and rolls under the bed - it’s the biggest space he can fit in.

You’re panicking now. In about two seconds he’s going to see that your eyes are not pure purple anymore. You fear for your life.

Thinking up a lie, you nod you head when he speaks to you. Expecting him to take you down to the courts for the actual wedding, you’re surprised when he pushes you backwards onto the bed. He’s about to climb on top of you, when he trips and falls. You stifle a giggle knowing a certain someone under the bed might have had something to do with that.

Collecting himself, the dignitary stands up and towers over the bed. You try and hide your face from him, but the pink is unmistakable.

“What’s this?”

“I- I’m so overwhelmed with love for you sire,” you lie.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t recoil from my touch,” he pouts like a child.

With a harsh backhand slap against your face, he spits, and barks out an order to his bodyguards to have you taken to the prison quarters to be dealt with later.

Somehow in the prison cell you feel safer. Four walls you’re not allowed to leave. You’re used to it. And you know Din is coming. All you must do is wait.

The cell they put you in has a pretty low-tech lock. You’ve read about these types before. You watch for the guards to walk past, but this cell area is abandoned, so done walk past - giving you time to unlock this door. You almost have it when it sparks, burning your fingertip.

You’re about to try again when you hear clanging, thumping, and blasters firing. Then quiet footsteps sound down the hall towards your cell.

“I’m here to retrieve a heinous criminal,” Din teases rounding the corner. You can’t stop smiling when you see him. “She’s committed the worst crime of all.”

He pushes one button and the cell block door hisses and opens. He cocks his head in confusion at how quickly it opened.

“I tampered with it,” you smile and jump into his arms to hug him. He’s stiff at first, but then relaxes and holds you tight to his Beskar plated chest. Looking up at his covered face, you touch the cool metal of his helmet, “thank you.”

You know he’s looking in your eyes, and you want him to see. That pink is from him alone. The first person to show you kindness in ages, he truly does care.

“We need to move,” he speaks gently, his hand is resting on your back protectively. He moves to stand in front of you as you quickly exit the prison area. There’s a window nearby that he smashes. Knowing the sound will draw unwanted ears, he grabs you quickly in his arms and using his jet pack- he flies the two of you out the window.

You cling to him tight and don’t let go until you’re inside the Razor Crest and the hatch doors are closed.

He gets the ship off Zenkoth as fast as possible, and when the course is set - he joins you in main area of the ship. You’re sitting with your head in your hands trying to catch your breath.

“You alright?” he asks sitting down next to you. You hear a wince in his voice.

“Are you alright?” you ask looking at him. You side red on his side, and you touch it gently. “You’re bleeding! When did this happen?”

He winces again and stands to remove his Beskar. You get the feeling you shouldn’t be seeing this, but he touches your face gently with his gloved hand, “I need your help.”

He tells you where the aid pack is, you leave him to collect it. It dawns on you as you make your way around this ship that it’s your home now.

You fetch the pack quickly. As you return to him, his back is to you. You see him putting his helmet back on. Your heart jumps, that means he’d taken it off when you were gone. It was already covering his head, so you miss any glimpse of what his hair color looked like.

Coming around to face him, he’s sitting now on the floor. Armor completely off and around him on the floor. He’s shirtless completely, the only thing on him are his pants and helmet.

The first sight of his chest hair makes your knees weak. A dark line of hair disappears into the waistband of his pants and you tremble.

When you hand him the pack, his fingers touch yours and it sends a jolt to your core. First skin to skin contact with him. His hands are soft, but work roughened. Fingers are slender, knuckles cracked. Scars and burns are all over his body. Old and fresh bruises paint his skin. His newest wound isn’t horrible, the bleeding spot just needs to be bandaged.

He lets you ‘help’ him, and he’s silent watching you attend his wound.

“You didn’t really need my help did you?” you ask not looking up at him. You can’t even see his eyes, but you know his gaze is on you. You’re feeling a lot shyer around him now that he knows you’re in love with him.

“Not for this no,” there’s humor in his tone. “I told you I need help with the kid.”

“That’s all?” you smile knowing he’s toying with you. “Alright, all finished,” you tell him and smooth your fingers over the bandage, smoothing out all the edges. His skin is tan and warm, you love how it feels. His body is reacting to your touch as well, his abs tighten and skin quivers to feel your light touch.

You’re two touch starved people dancing around something more intimate, but for now it’s gentle grazes of fingers on skin.

“Can I try something?” he asks getting to his feet. “I’m going to turn off the lights in here.”

“I don’t like the dark,” you sound panicked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures. He waits patiently until you nod. Then he hits the power switch leaving you in complete darkness. Your heart is ramming against your ribcage, then you hear his gentle voice. It sounds different, unaltered.

His helmet is off.

You hear him sit down next to you and hear the slight thunk of him set the helmet down on the floor. Warm hands find your hands, and he guides them up towards his face. He lets go of your hands, and lets you explore his features.

“You have a mustache,” you laugh feeling the bristles on his upper lip. His mouth twitches up in a smile. You want to feel it all, and he lets you. From his cheeks, to his strong jaw. His chin is lightly dusted with facial hair. You scratch his chin, and he purrs in the back of his throat. When you touch his lips, he lightly kisses your fingertips. He even lets you feel across his eyebrows. His forehead has sweaty hair stuck to it, and with both hand you rake your fingers through his hair. He moans to be touched so, and you’re beside yourself.

“Can I try something?” you ask him, repeating his question.

His ‘yes’ comes out soft. He knows what you’re asking because his face is close to yours. The gap is closed, and he presses his lips to yours. Your first real kiss.

It starts sweet, gentle pecks. Then his hand finds his way into your hair and he deepens the kiss. He groans into your mouth and you sigh to be held like this. Such sure hands hold you, so deliberate.

A beeping from the cockpit interrupts the moment. Din pulls away and blindly reaches for his helmet.

“I’m turning on the light, watch your eyes,” he tells you and hits the switch. You squint at the sudden change. He disappears into the cockpit and you follow behind.

A deep red system is in your view from the window.

“Welcome to Rosania.”

You gasp, you know of this place. The entire planet is covered in beautiful red flowers of all kinds. It’s known for its romance and beauty.

“Why did you bring me here?” you turn looking at him. Again, you wish to see his face, but his silence is enough to tell you - and you know why you’re here.

Next thing you know, you’re barefoot walking next to Din in a peaceful field of flowers. The Child is in his ball, his eyes are bright and excited looking at the flowers around him.

The three of you find a good place in the shade to eat. Again, Din doesn’t eat, he’s content to sit with the two of you. He’ll eat later.

“So, are you going to stay?”

“Stay?” you reply unsure of his question.

“With me. Help me take care of the kid.”

“I owe you my life. And I’d love to stay.” You don’t have to say you love him. He knows.

“Good,” he nods.

Standing, he pushes a button on his gauntlet and closes the doors of the ball the Child is in.

“Can I try something else?” Din’s voice is raspy again. Eagerly you nod, though a bit unsure of what he’s up to. Using the blanket, you’re sitting on, he tears a off a long strip of it. “It’ll be dark again,” he tells you, showing you the strip of fabric. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod and let him tie the strip of fabric around your face, covering your eyes. He moves quick despite his injury to remove his Beskar. Then his hands are on you.

“Do you want this?” he asks reaching around behind you, fingers toying with the fastenings of your dress.

“Please, I love you,” you sigh and find his lips with yours. Your dress is complicated, and you need his help getting it off. Experienced fingers unfasten your undergarments and soon you’re naked in front of him. Your arms twitch to cover yourself, you’ve never been so exposed in front of someone like this before - but he stops you. He cradles your head in his hands and lays you down on the blanket.

“It’s alright,” he whispers above you.

Now it’s his turn to explore you. He kisses all over your face. The slight tickle of his facial hair has you wriggling. Your neck is his next target, you shudder to be touched like this. A laugh bubbles up and you can’t help but let it escape.

“All my years of reading, I’ve read so much of pleasure. I wasn’t prepared for-”

“For what?” he murmurs into your skin.

“The way my heart would feel in my chest.” Then you feel his warm calloused hand press over your pounding heart. He takes your hand and puts it over his heart. Your smile is so big it hurts your cheeks, and he kisses the corner of your mouth.

When his hands touch your breasts, you gasp arching your back into his touch. Calloused thumbs brush gently over your nipples and you squirm. The sparks of pleasure are too much you think, but he only adds to it but closing his lips around one of your nipples. He sucks and teases with his tongue. You ache to see him, but something about not seeing him adds to the feeling. You have no choice but to focus on how he feels. And he feels divine.

When he’s done with each breast, he moves down lower. There are a few moments where he’s not touching you and you call out to him.

“I’m here,” he answers. You felt his breath against your lower stomach, and by the time you realize where he is - he’s placed his lips on your center. He licks and sucks on your sex and it’s all you can do to not scream.

In your years of wondering what sex was like, you’d pleasured yourself. But nothing could have prepared you for his warm mouth. His facial hair tickles only adding to the sensation. Then he slips a finger in your sex, and it’s not long before you find your release, you’re at the mercy of the Mandalorian.

There’s a slight chuckle in his voice when he comes back up to kiss your cheek. Your essence is on his chin and you feel it when he kisses you.

“You told me ‘not like this’ when I was thinking about that man in the Cantina. Is ‘this’ what you had in mind?” you’re still catching your breath when you ask.

“Something like that,” he muses and kisses you once more.

It’s then you feel the weight of him on top of you, his body is so warm. Immediately, you cling to him wrapping your arms around his back, and your legs around his waist.

He kisses your jaw and ear a couple times before he whispers a question, “are you ready?”

“I think you know,” you whine. With another kiss, he pushes himself into your heat. Like everything else he does, it’s deliberate and controlled. He’s patient. He kisses all over your face and strokes your skin. When he’s fully situated inside of you, you let out a soft cry. Tears soak into your blindfold, and he sees some fall on your cheeks.

“Am I hurting you?” his voice is soft in your ear.

“No, it’s just. My entire life, my culture, your eyes turn pink in a moment like this, and I’m blindfolded.”

“Yes, but your eyes were already pink with love for me,” he tells you kissing your temple.

He’s right, but still the action of it isn’t lost on you. You were about to be traded away for the joy of seeing your eyes change in bed. You never anticipated they would change from love. Then to have your lover take you to bed only to have you blindfold, your heart is aching in the best way.

“Din?”

“Mmm?”

“Move.”

He obliges and begins to thrust his hips forward into you. Feeling his warm skin, hearing his soft grunts, the pressure of him between your legs, it’s not long before he brings you to your second release.

With a few more thrusts, he finds his release. You cling to his shoulders, and his hand is holding you to him tight.

“You know, you’re a really terrible bounty hunter,” you laugh when he moves off of you. Your joke sets off laughter in him and he falls next to you laughing on the blanket. It’s absolute music to your ears. You wish you could see his smile.

His confession of love is a gentle rasp in your ear. He’s gently running his fingertips over your face.

“I didn’t think this would be the outcome when you set out to deliver me,” you think aloud.

“I think you’re the one that delivered me,” Din answers with another kiss. “What system do you want me to take you to next?”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #my writing #my gifs #mine #it was only a matter of time lol

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vestigiallegs · 3 years ago

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If their roles were swapped: how would Sam fare as a psionic and Ike as a lycomorph? How would their lives, personality and outlook change?

I actually answered this same hypothetical on my old oc blog years ago! However, my answer was pretty general, and with the development PT has had since then I have a better idea of what the specifics would be now, I think. Incoming longpost.

SAM AS A PSIONIC

SITUATION: Growing up in Rietveld would appeal to Sam for some of the same reasons it appealed to Isaac. Baby Sam ABSOLUTELY would have appreciated being stolen from her birth family, taken out of contact with her shitty father, and raised in an environment with some semblance of stability. However, with her general temperament and attitude I don't think she would ever have the same level of emotional attachment to Rietveld that Isaac does. In his most bootlicker moments, Rietveld IS his family, and a genuine savior to people like him.

Sam wouldn't share that take.

She would feel that the Rietveld Academy is more of a necessary evil. An organization with a good mission statement and a bunch of power hungry dirtbags looking to co-opt it into their personal army (a pretty on-the-nose assessment).

Adapting to her new life would be harder for her than it was on Ike, as she is generally allergic to rules and strict schedules and conformity. She would be a lot of trouble as a new recruit, hideously uncooperative and generally looking for problems. Of course, when you deal exclusively with kidnapped children, you see this kind of behavior a lot, so she wouldn’t actually be anything the Academy wasn't prepared to handle. Eventually she would tucker herself out enough to become somewhat system compliant (but she would always be looking for discreet acts of rebellion that she could get away with).

As she got older she would feel torn between wanting to put as much distance between her and Rietveld politics as possible, and feeling an obligation to every other psionic to try and effect change where possible. She would decide the latter was the morally right thing to do, and end up going down a very similar career path to Ike. In general, she would make a lot of his same choices, she'd just be more conscientious about it.

Assuming she was as psychically talented as Ike is, she'd have a similar time rising through ranks, garnering some level of recognition, reaching a sort of smalltime celeb status in certain corners of Rietveld. Eventually, though, her career would come to a ceiling. While this Sam would have learned to hold her tongue now and then, she is terminally pushy and nosy, and there would come a point where her superiors just... didn't want her any closer to sensitive information. Her career would lose steam in a much less dramatic way than Ike’s, and though she would remain respected people’s attention would drift as she settled into the life of a cog.

From here I can see two options.

1. She gets disillusioned and leaves for Verdamt of her own volition, growing even more disgruntled with Rietveld once she’s living outside of the system. She lives her best life but feels bitter that Rietveld stole years of her life from her.

2. She stays in her position for years, becoming one of those “cool middle aged mentor who is in a position of authority but not a jackass about it and looks the other way if you break a rule that hurts nobody” type characters who dies in a story’s inciting incident, either after discovering something they shouldn’t have and/or getting mercilessly betrayed by someone obviously evil who they fully trusted for some reason (fitting for her).

PERSONALITY: Sam as you know her, but with a much larger vocabulary. She has strategically polished her personality to come off as more intentional, charming, and rascal-y in order to balance her innate desire to mouth off and backtalk with her need to function in Rietveld’s existing hierarchy. Unflappably confident. Could function as a D&D party’s face without getting them all killed.

Cuts her hair short, very clean cut style, doesn’t smell sweaty. No tattoos. Still missing an eye.

ISAAC AS A LYCOMORPH

SITUATION: Ike's regular life is already stressful enough, and he is emotionally equipped to deal with psionic problems, he is not emotionally equipped to deal with lycomorph problems like Sam is.

First things first: he spent his entire childhood being raised ("raised”) by Seymour. Seymour is a career lycomorph hunter who has spent years tracking his runaway feral werewolf wife with the intent to kill her. He ABSOLUTELY expects his sons to follow in his footsteps, and when they are older, he makes sure they do. He raises his sons telling them they are obligated to help in the mom hunt and that every person they let her kill is second hand their fault. Terry grows up going “haha sure okay dad (turns to Ike and makes the cuckoo sign at him)”, but Isaac takes this to heart because he is just... really susceptible to guilt tactics.

You can probably already guess how Isaac would get infected and how Seymour would react to this.

Isaac knows his father is an awful, terrible man, even more than usual since he was actually raised (”raised”) by him. He KNOWS it. Even so, he finds himself completely caught off guard. He really for real thought “my dad would never murder me” was really a boundary Seymour wouldn’t cross. Of course, he also knows (”knows”) he shouldn’t feel hurt about this either, because executing the infected just makes sense, you know...

So this sad, wretched dogman is probably just going to let Seymour kill him, but luckily Terry is a voice of reason AS ALWAYS and kills Seymour before he can (something Terry has always wanted to do anyway).

Isaac copes very badly with being a lycomorph. While Sam adapts to her new normal relatively quickly, everything about being a lycomorph repulses Ike. He doesn’t like the transformations, they’re inconvenient and he finds them disproportionately painful. He doesn’t like being a naked wolfman once the change is over with. He hates eating carrion. He develops a psychosomatic weak stomach and struggles to eat enough for a lycomorph because he can’t emotionally bring himself to eat sub-human-grade food because THAT’S GROSS.

Luckily, good ol’ dependable Terry is looking out for him. No, really. Terry looks out for him. Not very well, because this is Terry we’re talking about, but he’s giving it his all and making sure Ike doesn’t die. (What makes you think Terry wouldn’t be there for his only brother?)

PERSONALITY: Absolutely VIBRATING with anxiety. Imagine one of those excruciatingly fearful, huge bite risk dogs. That’s him. Really hung up on and over dramatic about being a monster. Out of touch with what he likes and wants because he repressed like 3/4ths of his personality to get along with dad.

Looks like regular Ike got lost in the woods for a week. Doesn’t wax. Shakes like a chihuahua.

#sam #ike #pt swap au

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capri-ramblings · 4 years ago

Text

Yikes,I know there's bound to be questions but trust me, chapter 3 will answer most of them. Aha,I'm sorry if this chapter is kinda confusing at first,I'm not good at planning out thoughts or stories systemically,it kinda makes it harder for me to write whenever I try to. But here,the second chapter of Raptured! Thank you for reading! ( ꈍᴗꈍ) ♥️

[ R a p t u r e d ]

Chapter 2: Banter

In the moment Riddle had finished telling his brothers what conspired with their human captive, the first to speak up was Azul.

"They offered what?" His words were a mix of shock and amusement, gaze fixated on Riddle who seemed almost flustered from how red his cheeks were.

The red haired sighed, sending him a narrow eyed glare before crossing his arms.

"The head of their own brother"

"By their own hands?" Kalim asked aloud, his features scrunched up worryingly. "Isn't that bad? Why would anyone want to kill their own brother so suddenly?"

From the chaise across the room,Leona let out a scoff, lips upturned into a smirk.

"What are you? A five year old? If you give a herbivore the chance of freedom,they'd leave their entire fleet open to make sure they survive. Humans aren't so different."

"Indeed" Vil joined in with a smile of his own. "Humans are very fickle things, they live out their life struggling and as a result they stink of repulsion."

"They can barely even stand on their own.." Idia added thoughtfully and as the gazes of his brothers turned to him, the flames on his hair flickered and he looked away.

"Maybe the isolation's got to their head?"

Riddle let out a scoff, his lips upturned in a sneer almost too vicious to be formed on such a delicate looking face.

"The cottage they were in was secluded from the rest of the village,they were already a reclusive. Why should it bother them now?"

"Maybe Idia has a point" Kalim interjected then "Before they were on their own by choice...and they weren't exactly trapped in a tower either"

"It's all the same" Leona snapped " Damn herbivores will always be too fragile."

"Though, our soft-shelled brothers have a sound reason" Vil's lips curled in an effortless smile,his ever sharp gaze glinting like jewels.

"At this rate our small hare is going to die before the homage from her brother, and that makes all of this pointless."

The room went silent then. Each males having their own thoughts wrapped around the situation.

When they came to a decision to face the hunter who killed their family beast, he was nowhere to be seen and left tending to his cottage was none other than their captive human, a young sibling unaware of what their fool brother had committed. They opted it was easier to simply kidnap them and have their brother come looking since neither one of them wanted to wait around. There was also the fact that the death of the beast had affected their Mother's health greatly, and all seven brothers fumed with rage.

"Our methods doesn't matter anymore" Riddle spoke up, "What's done is done. We can't exactly just put them back where we found them."

"I agree" Azul said "Though if the human dies in our care now, when we're fully able to change their situation, I fear the price of that loss would be great."

"What? Are the humans going to chase us around with pitchforks?" Leona sneered,his sharp fangs visible as he leaned back into the chaste. "You saw how further in their cottage was, chances are the herbivore doesn't even go down to the village often enough for people to notice them missing."

"They can't die." Idia drawled the words out this time,his gaze sharp and harsh as he stared down Leona who all but grinned at his brother.

"Why? Because you like them?" The laugh that barked out from Leona was cruel and Idia flinched.

"Go ahead and save the poor herbivore then,Prince Idia of the lands of burrowed moles. You think they'd ever look at you fondly?"

"Enough." Riddle came between the fight with his own ire and before he sent a glare towards Leona, he let Idia catch the solace in his.

The situation was getting worst. They needed a decision quick.

"You're not a five year old as well,Leona, so keep that tongue of yours tamed"

"What are you? Suddenly playing the role of the Eldest when you can't even reach his height?" Leona scrutinized Riddle with an aggression that seemed ready to claw him in the face, but Riddle kept his own spite and promptly choose to ignore his brother.

Instead,he turned to Azul.

"The hunter should've came back and see his sibling gone, you even sent those eels of yours to make sure he got the hints. Why hasn't he made a single move? It's been two months."

"Maybe he's forgetful?" Kalim chipped in, eyes glowing. Riddle wanted to tap the side of his face and gently tell him to shut up but Vil patted his head instead.

"A forgetful hunter managing to kill a wild beast is unlikely, mein bruder"

Azul crossed his arms,gaze narrowing.

"They've sent word that they have information regarding our human and the whereabouts of their brother"

"And?" Vil prompted.

"I told them to come meet us as soon as they can, which shouldn't be long."

The moment those words were uttered, a dull thud came from the would-be-entrance of the tower, and a familiar voice calling out.

"My Princes! Open the door please!" The urgency of the voice had all the present Princes turning their head, though the one who seemed genuinely surprised and concerned was Kalim.

"That voice..." He said, turning to Azul "Is that who I think it is?"

Azul's lips curled into a knowing smile and with a flick of his fingers, the sound of a door being swung opened then slammed shut could be heard within the tower itself,followed by light rapid footsteps approaching them.

Out of breath and desperately panting, a young girl made a hasty bow as she came before the Princes, though the way her legs slightly trembled suggested that she was near collapsing.

"It is her!" Kalim's eyes grew wide with familiarity, the worry in his voice replaced with joy as he came up to place his hand on the girl's shoulder.

"The last time I saw you, you were still learning how to walk!" Kalim's loud voice seemed to make her flinch but the girl met his gaze with warmth before she bowed her head again.

"Pleasure to meet you again,Prince Kalim." She's heard stories of him, the Prince Fae known to give out bits of his treasures to those who come wishing at his well. It seemed odd to act as if she's known him, but she knew better than to put logic before courtesy. He was one of the seven Princes after all. Acting too smart with them was a fool's mistake.

Before Kalim could say anything else, Azul stepped forward and the girl promptly met his side with a suddenly serious demeanor.

"I'd ask you for the information I had you fetch but I wonder why you were running in the first place?"

The girl laughed dryly if not nervously.

"Floyd wanted to see who could win in a race in getting here,your Highness."

Azul frowned, internally sighing.

"Why on Earth did you agree to that?"

Again, the girl laughed. "He terrifies me,my Prince."

Riddle couldn't place where he's met her, but hearing her words had him internally sympathising her. Azul's leeches were a pair he'd gladly avoid for eternity as well.

"So,you got a changeling to be at your beck and call as well,Azul?" Vil sounded amused as he turned to Azul, but the degrading glance he gave the girl bellied the smile coyly sitting on his lips then.

"She's indebted to us anyway" Azul stated simply "Why not put her to work?"

His gaze returned to the girl.

"What do you have about our human then?"

It took a full ten minutes for the young changeling to inform them of what she's managed to compile on their human and hunter. Turns out they aren't related by blood but by marriage. Apparently most of the villagers knew of the hunter but rarely saw the younger sibling as they took more liking in staying indoors. There was also talk that their relationship with one another was never close and answered Riddle's question as to why he hadn't showed up yet.

"So, he's just going to leave his sibling at our mercy?" Kalim asked,he had his expression scrunched up with worry and pity again but Leona shared none of it and only growled with distaste.

"There won't be mercy if they're left with us a second longer"

Riddle caught the flicker of Idia's flames and instantly reacted.

"Threaten to murder our captive one more time and I'll have your head,Leona."

"Hah, you're trying to scare me,Riddle?" Leona sneered,fangs glistening with malice. He's been irritated by the whole situation since the beginning. Taking in a human in hopes that another would appear to save them, it was all a damn fairytale. Leona knew humans were selfish, his brothers should've had that piece of common sense drilled into their heads as well. No one was going to play hero for their captive.

Riddle gritted his teeth and again instead of lashing out senselessly, he swirled around to face the changeling. Every bit of his anger flaring in his grey gaze.

"Where's the hunter now?" He asked,though it sounded painfully like a death threat.

The changeling bowed her head.

"He's at the human King's palace,Prince Riddle. King Aothor ...of Nostorne"

The words sent the entire room tilting, and Riddle would've gripped her by her neck if Azul hadn't stepped forward.

"King? Since when did the humans have a King?" The last time they came to the world,their mother's shrine was built almost everywhere to acknowledge her ruling. Had times changed so drastically since their absence?

"Yes. It's been this way for years now. A dukedom raised after Her Most Divine's departure from the human realm and ever since then a lineage of human nobles have taken the throne as the Human ruler."

"My, how futuristic, and here we were in the guise that we still sat on the top of their world" Vil was laughing but his words cut into the tension of the room like a blade coated in venom and the changeling girl shifted uncomfortably.

"It seems like the order of the slaughtering was made by him and ultimately fulfilled by the hunter. His name is Cyril and he's being celebrated by the King for his bravery."

Leona heaved a heavy sigh,leaning once more into his chaise. He looked ready to fall into a deep slumber already but his irritation kept him awake.

"So,we have information. Now what's the plan?"

***

Jade and Floyd,two of Azul's trusted companions came into the situation while the Princes were sorting out their thoughts and opinions (Which all greatly contradict one another) and brought word that their hunter had refused to save their sibling in a conversation Jade overheard him had with another hunter right before he was called on by the King.

"He said he knew of the Fae's trick and that by taking something of theirs as his own, he'd gladly give anything they took from him as compensation." Jade explained in his usual matter-of-fact tone,his mismatched gaze still and knowing.

Riddle clicked his tongue, brows furrowing. Idia's was the most sympathetic along with Kalim while Leona and Vil seemed ready to send a fleet of their army to storm into the human villages.

"I'm not really surprised though" Floyd spoke up lazily "He seems like a guy who'd do that kind of thing anyways"

"But now the Princes are stuck with keeping a human captive in their care", Boe,the young changeling from earlier, pointed out grimly.

"What if we sent you to negotiate with him in our stead?" Idia suggested which earned a rather hasty look from the girl.

"Human royals don't take too kindly to my kind,Prince Idia. I doubt he'd even let me enter"

Leona let out a menacing growl. One that reverberated through the tower walls.

"This is going nowhere. Riddle, go up to that damn herbivore and have them beg their brother come and pay his homage so we can give them back."

Riddle frowned.

"You heard the changeling,Leona. If their relationship with their brother is as bad as we've heard, do you really think they'd beg for him to come save them?"

"Couldn't you talk some sense in them?" Azul had eyes turning once more to the young changeling who all but reluctantly slumped her shoulders.

"I don't see how me being the one talking will get them to cooperate..."

"Clamshell,you should at least try,right?" Floyd's smile was sickly sweet and when he attempted to sling his arm over her shoulders, she avoided the outcome by shifting close to Jade.

"What would you want me to say to them?"

"The offer they gave" Riddle said "Have them elaborate more on that. I'm not going into a deal without knowing why it was proposed in the first place."

There was hesitation in her eyes but it was swiftly changed to a silent resolve as she nodded her head.

"I'll see what I can do."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst mc #twst wonderland yandere #twst riddle #twst azul #twst idia #twst kalim #twst vil #twst Leona #twst jade #twst floyd #twst fanfic

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mangobilorian · 4 years ago

Text

Flight | (explicit) iii

Pairing: Mandalorian x Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 5246

read chapter two or four

“Break my ship, and I’ll leave you on the next backwater planet.” You grit your teeth, fingers gripping the controls. The display swims before your eyes, and you’re too rattled to think straight.

“I’m trying , Mando.” The helmeted man grunts, annoying you further. You try concentrating on the task at hand, but there was too much information to parse through. What did this button do? What about that lever?

“Try harder.” You open your mouth to retort, but the collision of a small asteroid collides with the ship, hurtling Mando off his feet. The man sighs, and pushes you out of the pilot’s chair, taking back control of the Crest.

“Does that mean my lesson is over?” You pout and give him your best puppy-dog eyes, but he’s unfazed.

“Yes.” He steers the ship back to a straight course and maneuvers the two of you out of the small asteroid field.

“Will there be more?”

“Maybe.” You huff. You’ve spent about three weeks with the Mandalorian now, and conversation still runs dry. Sometimes, the silence lasts for days before it’s broken, and it’s usually you who speaks first.

At the start, you’d been too terrified to initiate anything. After all, your relationship with the bounty hunter hinged on sex and your evident lack of confidence. You didn’t mind, but you wanted something more than that. You wanted to learn how to fly. He refused, you begged, he continued to refuse, and you tried swaying him through… other means. It took one space battle, five hyperspace jumps, and a trip to Nevarro to convince Mando to teach you. So you have some use , he had muttered.

But your first lesson just flopped, which was definitely not your fault. Mando thought, for whatever reason, that flying through an asteroid field would be great practice for a beginner. A complaint rested on the tip of your tongue, but you sucked it up in indignation. If Mando wanted to be a bad teacher, then so be it. And… Maker, he was worse than you ever pictured.

He didn’t even give you enough time to remember what the controls did before launching you into the field. Everytime you got hit, he’d threaten to strand you or cast you out. If you forgot what a button did, he’d mutter a curse like you couldn’t hear it and-

Ugh. You know you’re being too angry. Too unreasonable. You were wrong to place Mando on some pedestal and expect him to be a good teacher. It’s just that… he’s so gentle when he teaches you about other stuff. Like how the body works, what he likes, what you like. So it’s hard to reconcile that Mando with one grumbling in his seat next to you. The one who successfully flew the ship out of that field and now plots the next coordinates of a planet he thinks his next bounty is on.

You can tell, by the sheer amount of bounty pucks Karga gave him, that Mando had a lot of work to do. The fall of the Empire a year prior had shocked some systems while others were left to do business as usual. In the wake of government upheaval, people who thought they were safe under the Empire suddenly had targets painted across their foreheads. And those who previously hid and ran found themselves with a blaster in hand. You wonder where Mando stood on the spectrum. Was he a mere enforcer? Working for money or maybe to leave a tragic past behind? Or did he like bloodshed and found a job to fulfill that desire? Some bounty hunters even catered to certain types of jobs. Stories of Boba Fett filtered into your parents’ tavern often enough for you to know he made a living off of the Empire. But Mando didn’t seem like the kind of person to eat at the feet of moffs.

His helmet reflects the hyperspace beams, taking the light and pushing it backwards. It’s like the way he dodges all your personal questions.

“Done staring?” Mando doesn’t look at you.

“I wasn’t staring.” He snorts, not bothering to reply. Maker, he gets on your nerves sometimes. You just want him to talk to you and that’s the last thing he wants to do. You always had someone to talk to for the majority of your life. By default, you were shy and insecure, but you had your brother, your parents, your friends at the spaceport. And now? You had one grumpy (but very hot) bounty hunter.

“If you want something, spill it. We’re almost to Tatooine, and you look like you’re going to burst.”

“I do not -”

“Save it. Now tell me.” The two of you sit in silence once more.

“Why are you so blunt all the time?”

“If you have a problem with me, I’ll drop you off when we land.” You grit your teeth. He’s always deflecting your questions. He makes every question about you and not about himself and it’s so. Kriffing. Irritating.

“I just asked ‘why are you so blunt.’ I didn’t say ‘I have a problem with you, Mando.’” He grunts in reply. As if that answers all your questions. “So you’re not going to-”

“Why are you so curious all of a sudden? You didn’t have a problem before,” he says. Mando doesn’t sound as angry as you expected. It’s like he’s genuinely interested… and well, you don’t really know how to answer him.

Why were you so angry and irritated? Three weeks with the man and it’s all bubbling up now? The time you spent with Mando is usually in pleasant silence or complete darkness, so you don't know why you decided it was “Be an Ass to Mando Day.”

“If this is about me teaching you, then don’t worry. I’ll still help you fly.” You snap your head up to him.

“N-no this has nothing to do with that-”

“Stop stuttering. I thought we went over this-”

“Stop deflecting everything-”

“Get a grip of yourself.” You close your mouth at Mando’s command. He wheels his chair to face you, and your knees almost touch his. Even though you don’t know what he looks like, you can probably imagine how irritated he is. Scrunched brows, downturned lips-

“I’m sorry. It’s just,” you breathe out, struggling to figure out what to say. “I’m… really on edge? Right now?” Mando tilts his helmet in the equivalent of an eyebrow raise.

“On edge?” He repeats. You nod, forcing a reassuring smile. Only it probably looks like a grimace because Mando sighs the same sigh he gives you when you accidentally injure yourself.

“Like I’m all jittery and stuff. And not because I just had my first flying lesson which was cool and scary and- anyway. It’s like my heart is beating too fast and I just need to do something .” The bounty hunter gives you a simple hum as if he understands everything you said.

“You’ve got cabin fever,” he says, propping a hand under a chin. At your confused expression, he continues on. “You’ve been stuck in the ship for too long and need an outlet. Flying only made you more… ansty.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes. You weren’t antsy, and Mando acts as if he can just diagnose you with whatever.

“I don’t have cabin fever,” you pout, “but if I did, how can I fix it?”

“Physical activity would do the trick.” The sneaky bounty hunter. You know he’s smirking under there. He’s trying to bait you, but you won’t fall for it.

“Like what?”

“You tell me,” he says, titling his helmet. Ugh. You’ve come to know one fact about Mando: he’s stubborn. Instead of snapping back, you resign yourself to steady breaths. Let the man look at you and see the picture of calm. You close your eyes for an extra effect.

But your stoic facade does little to placate the thrumming in your blood. You are on edge, and you don’t really know why. Cabin fever might be the answer, but you’re doubtful. You survived being cooped on your home planet even though you desperately wanted to leave. You survived managing your parents’ tavern despite hating the work there. So the idea that being stuck on a ship—something you ached to do since your brother became a pilot—seemed a tad ludicrous. And yet, the undying urge to move and do something rests in every blood vessel and every nerve cell in your body.

Maybe the answer lies in why you were so angry at Mando. He was the worst teacher you’ve ever had, but that isn’t a reason to be livid. Of course you felt disappointed at the lesson being cut short, even a little sad at the prospect of you being a bad pilot. But you held out hope that you will improve your piloting when Mando improves his teaching. That still doesn’t warrant how frustrated you were with his silence. Three weeks seems like enough time to get used to him not talking.

You respect him enough to allow him to be quiet, but you loved it when he did talk. Because when he talked, it was about easy things like the difficulties of his job. How certain criminals gravitate towards specific planets. How some bounties were better dead than alive despite the order going either way. You especially loved it when he whispered praises, little moans in your ear—telling you to be more confident and to stop stuttering. His breathy grunts when you wrapped your mouth-

Maker, did the heat in the cockpit go up for some reason? Mando had wheeled his chair to face front once again, and you had spent the last few minutes… thinking. Very hard about your situation, yet you don’t have a conclusion. Or maybe you did reach an answer and were avoiding it because of one glaring reason: you were still a virgin.

That singular thought is enough for you to visibly cringe. Thankfully, Mando doesn’t notice. From this angle, you can see the flash of Mando’s bare wrist, and almost sigh wistfully. It’s always a pleasant surprise to be reminded that Mando is Human. A peek of bare skin is enough to send a tingle down your spine. Imagine what the rest of him looks like- You air out your shirt and stand up, leaving the cockpit.

Once you descend the ladder and are finally away from the bounty hunter’s shiny helmet, you slump on the bed. With a sigh, you bury your face in your hands and just… melt. Into a blob of feelings and nervousness.

You didn’t know what to expect really. Well, that’s not true. You expected kissing then oral sex then ‘real’ sex. Instead, you received a lot of kissing and a lot of oral—seriously, Mando’s obsession with eating you out isn’t bad, just surprising— but you’re still a virgin. With a big capital ‘V’.

Some part of you wonders whether you’re the one who’s holding yourself back. That your nervousness is tangible enough for Mando to notice and give you space. Your confidence was a smattering of puzzle pieces, and Mando helped you put it together. He knew how fractured, how fragile you used to be, and probably didn’t want to push you.

Yet another, darker part of you considers the idea that Mando didn’t actually want to have sex with you. As if you were some poor girl he took pity on and decided to pleasure a little bit, but he didn’t want the emotional baggage that came with actual sex. Not that you wanted emotional baggage but-

You groan in frustration. The more you think, the more conflicted you get. It’s easy to admit—after all your inner monologues— that you’re on edge because of how much you want to jump Mando’s bones. Kriff, a look at his bare wrist was enough to get you hot and bothered. Yet the nagging fear of whether or not he reciprocates your desire still tugs at your chest. Maybe he would strand you on Tatooine. Maybe he was just waiting for the right moment to leave you without it weighing on his moral compass. He never said how long you’d be allowed to stay. Maker, what would you do if you were alone? What would you eat, where would you live, how-

“Are you in a crisis?” You snap your head up to the helmeted man leaning against the opposite wall. When did he even get there?

“W-what? No. Just thinking about my supposed cabin fever.”

“Yeah? And how did that work out?” Mando crosses his arms, bending a knee to place a foot against the wall. And he looks too damn intimidating, too wide, and much too hot.

“Um… I don’t think I have it?” He snorts in a yeah right sort of way.

“You say that but you look like you swallowed poodoo. Very attractive.”

“Do you mean that?” You blurt out, mind too fried to filter your words.

“That you’re attractive? Yeah.”

“Oh.” There must be something about your expression because Mando pushes off the wall to grasp your chin.

“You still doubt yourself?” Your lack of response is enough for Mando to sigh and nudge your legs apart. He’s fully in your space now. Mando traps himself between your thighs, but you feel like the one who’s caged in. “I thought I told you that already.”

“It’s kinda hard to stop being insecure after-”

“Well, it’s not my job to make you more confident, is it?” And those were the words you did not want to hear. He’s right; it’s not his job to help you at all, and you knew it. At your silence, Mando pushes himself even deeper into your space, leaning over you so you’re forced to look up or collide with his chest. “I didn’t mean it like that… look, if you’re going to sulk-”

“I’m not sulking. I just-” you sigh, unsure if you should stop speaking now or get it all off your chest. “Do you even want me here?” He pulls back.

“What? If I didn’t want you, you’d be long gone.”

“Then why…,” the words dry up like cotton in your mouth. “Then why don’t we do anything… more?” You gesture between the two of you. “Intimate?” You cringe at the wording, but there’s nothing else to say.

“So this was about sex then? I thought you liked it.” Just a touch of hurt lingered in his words, making guilt worm into your chest.

“I do . But we haven’t done um… ‘real sex’?” Maker, if someone stabbed you before you opened your mouth again, you’d thank them. Maybe Mando could do it.

He lets out a snort. “I didn’t initiate anything because I thought you’d be too scared. Not because I don’t want to. I do,” he says, voice tapering out to a whisper. Oh. So your fear was misplaced, and the rational part of your brain was right all along. Mando wasn’t going to kick you out, and he did want you and-

“Here,” he says, pushing you back to lie on the bed. “If you think you’re ready, we can do this now.”

“Now?” Your heart stutters at the thought, fast enough and erratic enough for you to hear it.

“You’re too wound up. Seems like the solution is ‘real sex’.” You groan in embarrassment. Well. Sure. “I’ll turn off the lights.” Mando leaves you, and everything becomes too real. You’re definitely unprepared for this moment despite craving it for the last few weeks—actually for the past month; you’ve wanted this since the first encounter in your bedroom.

The hull descends to darkness. Stars, how will this even work? You hope you don’t make a fool of yourself. Scenarios of you fumbling or messing up flash through your mind, making you cringe. How does one even ‘mess up’ at sex?

“Relax. You think too loud,” Mando says, a few feet away. You release a breath, nodding to yourself. You can relax. Just breathe in and out and-

Mando places a hand on your shoulder. “Come here.” He leans in and your breath mixes with his, hot and airy. A clunk rings by your feet, the sound sending vibrations to your head. You trace up his sides, removing his armor piece by piece. You could do this. It was all part of the routine. Just as you loosen his pauldrons and Mando drops them to the floor, he presses his lips to yours. Now this is what you were used to. The steady rhythm of his mouth, the tentative tongue already swiping past your lips.

As soon as his armor is all gone, a hand clutches the back of your neck and another makes its way up your thigh. Mando presses deeper into the kiss, forcing your head backwards as he bends further down. The hand on your thigh reaches the zipper of your pants and unzips it.

The bounty hunter discarded the glove on that hand some time ago, but worn down leather still touches the nape of your neck. Pulling away for a second, Mando tugs your pants down, and you push off the bed to allow for it to slip past your ass. Just as he’s about to reclaim your mouth, Mando takes his hand off your neck and glides a gloved finger on your lips. He doesn’t need to talk for you to understand what he wants.

You bite the tip of the glove and yank it off his hand. You drop it to the side, and pull Mando into your arms. He relents and kisses you once again. A hand rubs small circles on your chest then grasps the soft cushion of your breasts. He muffles your sound of surprise with his lips, his hands squeezing in an erratic pattern. The more he touches you, the more he enters your space, the more you lose yourself in his hazy spell. You always wonder if the blissed-out feeling usually accompanies kissing and sex or if it’s a Mando thing.

He pulls back and sinks to his knees. Nudging your thighs further apart, Mando reaches a hand up to your mouth. Without a word, you suck his thumb, making sure to get it as wet as possible. It’s messy, saliva dripping down your lips, tongue swirling dirtily. He tastes like smoke and salt.

You hear a murmur of “good girl” below you as Mando takes his finger and glides it over your center. You moan at the contact, relieved to finally be touched. He presses a soft kiss on your thigh, still gently rubbing his thumb over that spot and-

The bounty hunter takes his hand off and nuzzles against you. Without warning, he licks a stripe along the length of your now-throbbing pussy. Stars, even though he eats you out often, you still feel like it’s the first time. The same lightning that zaps through your body now is exactly like the one that hurtled through you when Mando first placed his tongue on you.

He laps at you a few more times before taking your clit in his mouth and sucking . Without his lips on yours, nothing stops a groan from escaping you. Mando presses a hand on your stomach and nudges you backward. You let him push you, and lie flat on the bed. Beads of sweat already build on your brow, the temperature of the room rising. He continues sucking, the pleasure muffling every coherent thought. Only one thing bounces around in your mind: more .

Your hands grasp at his hair, a familiar feeling, and tug. Mando simply grunts and you feel something graze the inside of your thighs. Slowly—too slow, actually—one of Mando’s fingers enters you.

“M-Mando,” you gasp, pushing your pelvis closer to him. He’s being too careful with you, and you just. Want. More.

“Calm down,” he says, but you tug at his hair harder. He begins to move his finger in and out, but it’s not nearly enough to satisfy you. After a few excruciating minutes—or maybe seconds; time seems to slow when you’re with Mando— he pushes another finger in. The sensation of his mouth on your clit, of his fingers thrusting into you, encases your head in a cloud. Lewd, wet sounds echo around the dark hull. You can feel Mando’s groans against you, the vibrations of his breath and words sending you spiraling.

At this moment, Mando is the only one who exists. He lives in your head, in your body: a puppeteer who controls every move. You can feel Mando curl his fingers, aiming for that one spot. A warm, heavy coil builds in your stomach. As Mando continues his ministrations, his torture, the coil tenses and tigthens until-

It snaps, like a sparkler on Life Day, and the darkness behind your eyelids bursts into colors you can’t describe. You gasp at the feeling, finger desperately pulling on Mando’s strands. Little murmurs of affection and praise echo from below, and you take the time to slow your breathing. He doesn’t pull away yet, and his breaths are almost enough to drive you to overstimulation. You have to plead to get him to back off.

“Ready?” You nod, then realize Mando can’t actually see you.

“Mmm, yeah,” you say, releasing your hold on his hair in favor of the sheets below. You hear a rustling of clothes, probably his pants and under shirt. He must have tossed it on the floor, leaving him completely bare. When you reach a hand out, you’re met with a searing hot torso.

Hands grab your hips and tug you forward. Something hard and blunt and warm presses up against you. Maker, this is it. The moment that’s building up for a month. The moment that exists in your fantasies at night when you try to muffle your moans, fingering yourself to the thought of the bounty hunter. The moment that you daydream about when you watch Mando pilot the Crest or clean his blasters.

You shut your eyes despite being in total darkness. Mando slicks his cock with your wetness before pushing in, just barely entering you. The slight contact is enough to send tingles to your throbbing clit, already stimulated and aching. He props a hand next to your head, and you feel the warmth of his body hover over yours.

“I’ll go slow,” he breathes out.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and Mando pushes in a bit deeper. The head enters then the rest of his twitching cock. Inch by inch he slides in, using your wetness as lubricant.

It’s… an odd sensation. He’s much thicker than anything you’ve had inside you—much warmer too. The stretch is expected, and it stings a little bit, but Mando prepped you enough. You hear little grunts from above you as Mando bottoms out. You squeeze without thinking, and Mando swears.

You feel more full than ever. It’s one thing to have Mando’s cock in your mouth and get used to the feeling of him pushing at the back of your throat, of you gasping for air in one breath and moaning around him in another. It’s an entirely different feeling to have that same cock inside of you, hard and pulsing.

“Are you… ok?” You’re more than fine, but it feels like something is missing.

“Yeah. Umm… is it supposed to feel like this?”

He snorts. “Like what?” He says, then retracts his hips a bit before thrusting into you. It feels like a blunt stab, and you gasp—more out of surprise than real pain. “Too soon?”

“N-no. Just continue.” He begins to thrust shallowly, setting a steady pace. Mando’s hand skims up your side, warm and soothing. He traces up your ribs, your neck, and settles on your face. Still thrusting, he leans down to kiss you again.

It feels a little better this way. His mouth on yours, delivering you another dose of endorphins while he takes his pleasure from you. It feels… good to be filled up by Mando. He satisfies your craving, but there’s a lack of something more . You didn’t know what to expect when you finally lost your virginity. Maybe a feeling akin to fireworks bursting in your chest or an explosion of pleasure enough to orgasm at entry alone. It seems like your fantasies were just that. Fantasies.

“Does it… feel good?” Mando asks, a nervous hint in his voice. Maker, you’ve been so caught up in your own anxiety that you didn’t think about how he would feel.

“Yeah,” you say, but you both know it’s a lie. Mando leans back, cock halfway inside. He pulls out so only the tip is in then he thrusts, hard enough for you to gasp but the feeling is different, like-

As Mando thrusts, two of his fingers rub tiny circles over your clit and that… that makes all the difference. A dam of nerves and anxiety and unmet expectations falls away to reveal the mounting pleasure beneath. This time, when you moan, it’s real.

He resumes his position above you, his arm between your bodies, thrusting at a steady pace. Every time he enters you, a bolt of pleasure accompanies the sensation. The cloud that encloses around your head when he kisses you returns, once again rendering you at the mercy of the bounty hunter.

Even with the penetration and the extra stimulation, it’s not enough. The comfortable, seductive coil in your stomach stays curled, not yet satisfied to unfurl and snap.

“M-more,” you groan. Mando presses a small kiss on your brow, and you feel him retract then push in. He goes at a steady pace, harder and faster than before. But it’s still not enough. You blindly reach up for him, desperate for more contact. Something hungry takes up residence in your body, and only one thing will satiate it.

“Please-ugh-Mando, more ,” you beg. You need more of him. Of his hand rubbing your clit, of his thick cock thrusting deeper. The bounty hunter doesn’t speak, electing to grunt instead, but he does increase his pace once more. To a pace bordering on bruising. On fucking. Now this is what you fantasized about. Not the sweet, gentle way you imagined most people lose their virginities—something that wasn’t bad, but Mando was a kriffing bounty hunter. You want him to be rough.

Instead of kissing you, a hot mouth closes in one of your nipples. In the same way he sucked your clit before, Mando pours the same energy into your breast. His mouth is wet and warm and too many of your nerves are wired with pleasure. His pace is hard enough that your breasts bounce at the movement, your entire body pliant and open for the bounty hunter.

The mouth on your chest, the finger on your clit, the bruising thrusts wreck your body to the point where you’re starting to consider how you’ll make it out alive. Mando releases his hold on your chest, opting to grasp your hips instead. His grip digs into the soft skin of your hips, and you know it will bruise.

The new angle changes his thrusts from a simple in and out to a bam-bam-bam downwards. The hands on your hips curl around to the back of your thighs and hoist you up, your lower back and pelvis rising off the bed. Wet, filthy sounds of your coupling mix with choked-off moans and gruttal groans. You grow more delirious by the moment, and you can’t even move against him.

“So fucking good for me,” he grunts. “My little pilot,” he says, pounding into you. “Feels good now, huh,” he chuckles darkly. Your brain is too frazzled to respond with anything but moans.

“You always want more ,” he enunciates with a particularly hard thrust.

You wrap your legs around Mando’s waist, trapping him in place. He can’t pull out as much, so he grinds into you instead. The thrusts are shallower but just as hard, just as overpowering as before. For a second, you wonder if you should do more but realize you don’t even know what to do. So you let Mando take your willing body, eager for every thrust, every kiss.

The pressure in your stomach picks up heat, garnering more pleasure each passing second. You grasp at his arms, nails dragging down the length of his forearms.

“S-so good,” you mewl, too lost in the moment, already drowning in his arms.

“Are you,” he huffs, “close?” You moan in reply, stomach clenching in anticipation. The smell of sweat, metal, and sex permeate the air, creating a an almost suffocating haze. The fingers on your clit speed up, losing their careful, controlled motions. It’s messier, hungrier. The almost painful tension in your belly holds out, rising and aching, greedy for a little more-

You cry out, back arching off the bed, relying solely on Mando’s hold on your legs. For a brief moment, you can’t hear anything but crashing static, consumed by the feeling of being so full . You squeeze tightly, hugging every inch of Mando’s cock. He continues shallow, softer thrusts as your pussy pulses around him, wet and hot.

Your body goes limp, and Mando sets you back down to lay flat on the bed. He thrusts one, two more times before pulling out. You still feel dizzy and disoriented, barley registering Mando jacking himself on top of you. For a moment, you hear him gasp, a strangulated sound, then something wet and warm lands on your stomach.

He continues rubbing himself until he’s completely drained, choked moans escaping his lips. You hear him move away and pick something off the floor then feel fabric wiping across your belly. In the aftermath, you suddenly feel clammy and sweaty and tired. Like all your exhaustion halted in the heat of the moment then decided to spring up on you once the high of an orgasm left your body.

Mando nudges you aside and joins you in the cramped bed. The heat his body emanates is inviting, but you’re too sweaty to even consider snuggling up to the bounty hunter. Besides, cuddling seems too intimate, too revealing. You rest in silence, feeling the lingering sparks in your veins die out, replaced by a comforting warmth. Despite being completely drained, you could also conquer the galaxy in your blissed-out post-sex euphoria.

“Good?” You turn your head to Mando in the darkness.

“Yeah. Thank you.” It’s the truth. You’ve never felt this good in your life. Losing your virginity to the bounty hunter fell short of your expectations at first, only to surge higher than you ever imagined. If someone else were to take your first time, would it feel the same? Would you be this pleased after it all ended? Or, is it all a special Mando thing? One man, whose name and face you don’t even know, providing you comfort and pleasure...

“You’ll have another lesson tomorrow,” he says. You grin to yourself. Another shot at your ambition. You don’t thank him; he understands how grateful you are for everything he’s done. So you close your eyes and try to sleep. Mando mutters something, and you don’t quite catch it. Maybe you’ll ask him tomorrow.

The weariness in your bones cradles you like a blanket then drags you under.

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #mandalorian x reader smut #mandalorian x you #star wars fanfiction #a way out

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shadow-sovereign · 4 years ago

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Sung Jin-Woo Headcanons

The wiki says this about his personality: “Before his Reawakening, Jin-Woo was a kind, nervous, and very timid young man. Despite being so, he respected his fellow Hunters and was brave enough to continue fighting in Dungeons to earn money to care for his sister and to pay for his mother's medical bills; despite being the weakest hunter that had existed.

Jin-Woo is also shown to be an intelligent person, being able to stay calm under pressure as he figured out the clues to fighting the boss of the Double Dungeon while most of the experienced hunters in their party panicked and were killed by the statues when they were trying to escape. This also makes him slightly cautious as he hesitated to reveal his growing strength until he was sure he could protect his family.

After his reawakening, he strives to become a stronger hunter than before. His sole focus was getting his daily missions done and leveling up via dungeon crawling. He is seen not to be hesitant with his actions and would injure and significantly harm anyone who threatens himself or those he genuinely cares for. Despite this, he is unwilling to draw the shadow of innocent Hunters/civilians. He has only done such in rare cases, such as extracting Min Byung-Gyu's shadow to heal Cha Hae-In. He has a great love for those close to him, including his family and close friends such as his sister Sung Jin-Ah whom he attached powerful high orc shadow soldiers to protect her during dangerous situations such as the Orc Gate that opened inside the school she attended.”

Now, onto my headcanons:

Family – The most important thing to Jin-Woo is family and loyalty. He’ll do anything to keep the people he loves safe and woe to anyone who threatens them. Jin-Woo never gives up on his loved ones, even if the situation seems hopeless. He spent four years working as a weak, E-rank Hunter, risking his life on every raid, to keep his mother on life support. There was no reason for him to think she would ever get better, but he refused to give up on her anyway.

He has a sweet, caring relationship with his sister. As he’s been taking care of her since their mother went into a coma and likely babysat when they were younger, he feels almost like a parent to her. He’s shown to care about even small things, like giving her an umbrella when the system let him know it was going to rain.

Jin-Woo loves both of his parents. He fought hard to keep his mother alive. He subconsciously imitated his father’s use of daggers, as was later revealed in the novel.

Fighting – Jin-Woo spent four years as the weakest Hunter, constantly getting seriously injured. He barely made any money from his raids, but had to keep going so the Association would pay for his Mother’s medical bills. But no matter how hard he fought and how much he bled, he never got any stronger. It was a constant cycle of pain.

After gaining the system, the harder he works, the stronger he becomes. For someone who was able to work so hard for so little, it’s no surprise that he’s able to put in greater effort when the rewards increase. And after being weak for so long, gaining strength is almost addicting.

Fighting becomes a rush, each victory sweeter than the last. He starts to enjoy battle, the chance to test himself and possibly gain new shadow soldiers. But sparring against a strong opponent can be fun too, neither of them trying to kill the other.

Fame – Jin-Woo doesn’t really like the fame. At all. For someone with such a one-track mind, having the reporters suddenly there, slowing him down, is intensely annoying. Whether he’s trying to do something as simple as meet up with a friend or go to a new gate that’s opened up, having them block his path is irritating.

He’s shown before that once he makes a plan, he ignores anyone that tries to delay him unless there’s a very good reason. The press wanting an interview is not a good reason.

Wealth – Jin-Woo’s only interest in money is supporting his family and living a comfortable life. He’s not a greedy person and doesn’t care about living in luxury. During the battle with the High Orcs, he recognized that the Gate had been bought by another guild and didn’t even ask for any of the essence stones, despite the fact that he was the one to kill all of the enemies and saved their lives. And it was the same with the Jeju Island raid. He let all of the essence stones go towards the effort of rebuilding the island and compensating the family members. The only stone he kept was from Beru, perhaps for sentimental reasons?

Food – Jin-Woo is shown to know how to cook in the novel and is probably fairly good at it. He had to take care of his sister by himself for four years and as a good older brother, he’d want to give her the best possible care. He learned how to cook as a combination from watching/helping his mother in the kitchen and online tutorials.

Since they weren’t very well off for the longest time, if they ever went out to eat, it would be cheap restaurants. Fast food and places that have good deals.

Hobbies – Cooking, video games, reading books/comics, browsing the web, and fighting. He’s in his twenties, so I imagine he spends a lot of time online when he’s not busy.

His sister likes video games too, so sometimes they play together. They recommend different comics and animes to each other, send each other funny memes and internet posts. Jin-Woo will also help her with her homework and make sure she learns a proper balance of work and play.

Romance – Jin-Woo is the type that enjoys pampering his partner. He likes to see them happy and will adapt to their love language. If they like gifts, he’ll find them meaningful presents. If they like to spend time together, then he’ll gladly hang out with them, doing whatever activity they enjoy. That doesn’t mean he’ll never ask to do things he wants, but that he doesn’t mind doing something he finds boring if it makes his partner happy.

Different aspects of his personality will come out based on who he’s dating. If it’s a civilian, he’ll be more mild-mannered and show less of his aggressive side that likes to battle. If his partner is a Hunter, he’ll enjoy the chance to fight alongside them or to spar if they’re strong enough.

Jin-Woo is a romantic. He’ll remember birthdays and anniversaries, getting thoughtful gifts and planning out fun dates.

Senses – Jin-Woo has strong senses. Enhanced sight, hearing, and smell. If he wanted, he could probably focus in on his taste and touch to make them stronger, but with his ability to heal, it’s not like he needs to taste whether there’s poison in his food.

He can sense magic at a greater distance than other Hunters, able to tell where an enemy is from far away. And towards the Jeju island arc, he could sense people’s emotions as well.

#Solo Leveling #Headcanons #Sung Jin Woo

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much-obliged-timothy · 4 years ago

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Whumptober #17

Borderlands - #17 - Dirty Secret

I only had like an hour to write tonight and no chance to proofread or edit so uhhHHH have this for today’s prompt

Rhys stared into the contents of his safe, his heart beating faster at the sight. All this time. All this time, and here he still stood.

Would he ever be free?

A knock on the door had him jumping so hard that he banged his shoulder against the open door of the safe. He winced and rubbed it.

“Y-Yes?” he called.

“Rhys? Everything okay?”

The voice sent a spie of terror through him, but he closed his eyes and reminded himself that it was just a voice modulator. Jack had been dead for seven years.

Dead, but not gone.

“Fine, Timothy,” he managed, his voice hoarse. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He shut the safe hastily. He pulled the portrait back down over the hiding spot, and then messed up the paperwork on his desk to make it look as if he’d been working. With that settled, he forced himself over to the door and pulled it open.

It was easier to see Timothy than to hear him. The scarred face wasn’t as familiar to Rhys as Jack’s masked one. It helped that Timothy had cut and styled his hair differently, and he wore an Atlas T-shirt over a pair of jeans, instead of Jack’s heavily layered look.

“Everything all good, Rhys?” Timothy asked curiously. “Zer0 couldn’t get ahold of you.”

“I muted my ECHO. I was trying to get work done,” Rhys said, gesturing to his messy desk.

Tim leaned in the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking at ease. It was so different than when the vault hunters had brought him here, scared and on alert after seven years of being in constant survival mode in the casino.

But they thought he’d make a good employee for Rhys, given his extensive knowledge of Hyperion. His combat experience was a bonus, given Maliwan and the COV were still lurking about.

He’d proved their hunch to be right. While Timothy quickly became notorious for complaining about the workload, he always got everything done on time, and he’d driven off several attempted Maliwan assaults with the help of his digi-Jacks. He’d even saved Rhys’s life when a Maliwan assassins got into the Atlas HQ while Zer0 was out on business.

“Rhys?” Tim snapped in his face. “C’mon, kiddo, you’re doing the zoning out thing again. Oh, dammit, and I did the nickname thing again. My bad.”

He still had lingering habits from his time with Jack, but he wasn’t Jack. Rhys clung to that fact desperately.

Timothy was scarred. But he was a good man, and he’d quickly become a good friend.

“You haven’t eaten anything today,” Tim said. “You haven’t even left your room. Let’s go get lunch.”

“But-” Rhys started.

“Oh, my bad, I made that sound like a suggestion. I meant to say: We are getting lunch. Go ahead and bitch about it, but I promise I’m the champion bitcher here.”

“Don’t I know it,” Rhys grumbled. “Fine, but I’m coming back here after.”

“Cool, so am I.” At Rhys’s look, Tim grinned a little. “I’m bored. You stuck me in the office with Zer0. Do you know how hard it is to hold a conversation with a guy who speaks in haikus? I keep trying to trip him up, but he’s good at it.”

Rhys locked the door to his room and gestured at Tim to lead the way. “Did you at least finish those contracts I sent you?”

“Like three hours ago. I can negotiate contracts in my sleep,” Tim said dismissively. “And no, that wasn’t an invitation to give me harder work. I spent seven years locked in a casino. I didn’t survive that just to spend years locked in an office reading over contracts.”

“I could send you to, uh, shoot people?” Rhys said.

“Shooting people I can do,” he said. He grinned and nudged Rhys. “You could come with me.”

“No!” Rhys said, flustered. “I don’t shoot people!”

“You were practically a vault hunter back in the day, Rhys! You’ve got to at least come hunting with me sometime. We can go visit your pantless friend on Pandora and shoot some skags. But only for, like, an hour because I hate that shithole planet,” Tim said.

Rhys slowed. Tim noticed and shot him a curious look.

“How many times on Pandora was it again?” Rhys said quietly.

Tim’s expression went from curious to pained, for just a moment. Then he wiped it to neutral, like he always did when his past came up.

“Six. Two were such close calls that even Jack didn’t think I’d survive,” Tim said. He turned his head away. “Look, I almost died a lot, both for protecting that bastard and for just looking like him. Doesn’t matter. I survived, and he didn’t.”

“I’m glad,” Rhys said, putting a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “I’m glad it was you, and not him.”

Tim looked at him with that frightened, desperate, hopeful look he got from time to time. He’d been alone for so long. Having a friend who genuinely cared about him was still so foreign to him.

He cleared his throat, but didn’t shrug Rhys’s hand off. “If you’re so glad, then you can celebrate my continued survival by paying for lunch.”

“You’re so cheap,” Rhys said, but smiled a little.

“Duh.” Tim gestured to his face. “All this for money, my guy. I have no shame. Let’s go eat.” He paused, murmured, “Thanks, Rhys”, and headed along down the hallway.

Rhys followed alongside him. He never thought he’d become such close friends with a body double of Handsome Jack, but he really was grateful Tim had survived everything to end up here.

The two had lunch together, talking animatedly about work and their plans for the weekend. Tim was still insisting on going to Pandora to hunt skags, and Rhys reluctantly agreed if only because it meant he’d get to see Vaughn again.

When they’d finished, Rhys paid and the two left. Tim caught his arm as he headed back for his room.

“Rhys, wait,” he said. “You’ve been working really hard lately. Take a break, will you?”

There was that undercurrent of concern in his words. Rhys wanted to argue, to say that he had things that needed to be done. But he was also well aware that Tim had watched one boss fall to his ambition.

“Of course I’m taking a break. We’re going to Pandora tomorrow, right?” he said.

Tim’s face lit up a little. “And, hey, we can swing by Moxxi’s after for drinks.”

Rhys looked down at Tim’s hand. Rhys had ordered a prosthetic arm for Tim, custom made and the finest money could buy.

He’d been locked up for seven years, constantly in danger of being killed just for his face. He’d had to cut off his own hand just to survive, because Jack had screwed him over again and again, even in death.

Fuck, what the hell was Rhys doing?

He was betraying Timothy. He had to destroy it. He knew he had to.

Tomorrow, then. When they got back from Pandora, he’d destroy it, and his safe would finally sit empty.

“Drinks are good,” he said nervously, and cleared his throat. “I’ll even pay. For the first round, at least.”

“First three rounds. You owe me after making me do all those contracts,” Tim said, but he had a smile on his face that Rhys would’ve never imagined him capable of when they’d first met.

The life had been coming back to Timothy as their friendship grew. He was happier. More trusting.

Rhys would not betray Timothy. He would not steal the life from Timothy’s soul again, not like Jack had.

“I don’t, um, really...use guns anymore? Or ever,” Rhys said.

“I’ll help you,” Tim said, his tone stating that this information should’ve been obvious. “You’ll be fine. I promise.”

He knew that. Because he knew Tim would never let anything happen to him. And Rhys hadn’t had to buy Tim’s loyalty; he’d earned it through a slow and steady friendship.

Tim frowned and took his ECHO off his waist. “Aw, jeez, Rhys. You didn’t ever unmute your ECHO, did you? Zer0 said to send you to the office to pick up paperwork that needs to be signed. Hey, I’ll wait for you in your room, okay? I’m calling it quits for the night on my work. And someone has to make sure you don’t stay up all night.”

“Fine, fine. But don’t get into my whiskey again!” Rhys said.

Tim was already heading down the hall, but took the time to flash a mischievous look over his shoulder. “No promises.”

Rhys scowled at him before heading down to the office. Zer0 was inside, greeting him with a nod and holding out paperwork to him.

“Thanks. I have to hurry, or Timothy will drink all my whiskey again,” Rhys said.

Zer0 flashed “D:” on his helmet, because he’d already made it quite clear to Tim that he didn’t approve of Tim’s occasional excessive drinking. Tim had been getting much better about it, though.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him have more than one glass,” Rhys assured, heading for the door. “Also, Timothy and I won’t be here tomorrow. So, I guess you have the day off?”

Zer0 flashed “:D”. Rhys gave him thumbs-up before hurrying out of the office. He didn’t trust Tim not to go for his whiskey and the snacks he kept hidden in the bottom drawer of his desk.

“Timothy, if you touched my chips again, I’ll-” he started as he entered his room.

But he froze, his blood turning to ice in his veins. He stared in horror.

“The portrait was crooked. I was trying to fix it for you.” Tim’s voice was devoid of all emotion. “I was going to take it down and put it back up straight.”

He turned to face Rhys, the ECHO eye in his hands.

“The safe was open,” he said.

Rhys had shut it. But he hadn’t locked it. He hadn’t thought to goddamn lock it. He hadn’t even made sure it shut properly, that it wouldn’t swing back open.

Rhys wanted to speak, but the words died before they even reached his throat.

“You told me you destroyed it,” Tim whispered, and the agony in his voice broke something in Rhys. “You told me you destroyed him.”

“Timothy,” he finally managed, the word choked. “Timothy, I was going to- I-”

“You lied to me.” His voice was raw with hurt, with betrayal, with sorrow. “I trusted you, and you lied to me. You fucking lied to me, just like he always did!”

Tim whipped the ECHO eye onto the ground. Rhys flinched back at the force of Tim’s anger.

“Did you ever even see me, or did you always see him?” he demanded. “You always worshipped him, didn’t you? That’s why you took me in. That’s why you- You never saw Timothy Lawrence! I was always just Handsome Jack to you, you bastard!”

“No!” Rhys cried. “No, Timothy, I don’t know why I kept it. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. But I always saw you.”

“Liar,” Tim snarled, and lifted his foot. “Fuck you, and fuck your dirty little secret. I hope you both rot in hell for what you did to me. I should’ve known not to trust another selfish CEO.”

He brought his foot down on the ECHO eye, and Rhys winced as it smashed under the force of the stomp. Tim brought his foot down, over and over again, even when the eye was well beyond broken, the AI trapped inside destroyed along with it.

But Jack wasn’t gone from the world. Not really. Because for the first time in a long time, Rhys looked at Tim and saw Jack. He saw that desperate anger that had been on Jack’s face when Rhys had trapped him in the eye.

“I saw you,” he whispered. “I don’t want to see him. You’re not him. Don’t-”

“Shut up.” Tim was breathing heavily. He strode towards Rhys, who stumbled back until he hit the wall. “I quit. I hope you meet the same fate as him. Fuck you, Rhys.” He looked towards Rhys, grief and anger in his good eye. “I won’t go down that road again. I won’t be used again. I was a goddamn fool for ever trusting you. You’re no better than Jack.”

He slammed the door as he left. Rhys sank to the ground, eyes locked on the destroyed ECHO eye.

Jack had continued to hurt Timothy, even years after his death. And now he continued to hurt Rhys.

“I’m sorry, Timothy,” Rhys said miserably, curling up on the ground, squeezing his eyes shut. He should’ve destroyed the eye all those years ago. Washed his hands of Jack.

But he hadn’t. And now he’d broken Timothy’s trust. Stolen the happiness the poor man had finally found after so long of suffering.

He wanted to blame Jack. But in the end, Rhys knew he’d damned himself.

#borderlands #timothy lawrence #borderlands rhys #whumptober2020 #no.17 #fic #dirty secret #rhys tftbl #rhys strongfork #jtdoeswhumptober #My writing #my post #borderlands fic

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skellebonez · 3 years ago

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Prompt 10 with syntax and huntsman, please?

... You know, I somehow never actually really considered writing these two as a focus in a fill before now... it's about time I should fix this!

Stop it! You’re only making it worse!

"And what, exactly, do you think you are doing?" Huntsman asked, glowering down at the hand on his arm.

"Helping you, now stop moving," Syntax snapped back at him, pulling the sleeve of his coat up a bit before scoffing and tugging roughly on the sleeve. "Take this off so I can look at it properly."

"Stop it! You’re only making it worse!" Huntsman hissed and winced as the tug pulled on his injury, swatting away at the human turned spider demon’s hand with a scowl. “I was gonna take it off myself anyway, I know how to treat my own wounds!”

Syntax raised an eyebrow, clearly not impressed with the rebuttal. "We'll see about that once your arms are bare. Off, now."

Letting out a soft hiss in his direction the hunter did so carefully, removing the sleeve from his uninjured arm and sliding the other sleeve off as carefully as e could manage with the fabric rubbing against his injury as it was.

They'd been caught off guard. Sent out to gather supplies to rebuild more of the spider bots in secret for an even larger project and had been attacked by the demons that owned the large storage space they'd broken into. Huntsman couldn't blame either himself or Syntax for them being found out, he'd watched the other disable the security system himself after all. They only had the fact that the system came backed up with security guards actually patrolling the ground.

A smart thing, that, having backup security and not having it logged anywhere in your normal system.

Syntax had managed to get by with a couple nasty bruises and a scrape or two, a dent in one of his mechanical spider legs that was already easily mended with the help of their stronger trio-man. Huntsman on the other hand was not as lucky, one of the security guards managing a nasty clawed slice into his arm as they made their escape. There was only so long container of antiseptic and bandages he always carried around (for emergencies, after all you learn to carry something around as a hunter very quickly if you wanted to survive) that he had slapped on at the first chance to relax would last, and Syntax had been shockingly patient as he poured the stinging liquid and covered the wound before they made it back to the lair.

Spider Queen was not pleased when they had arrived back, not angered at them but at the situation they'd all found themselves after... after everything. But she'd softened a bit when she saw their state, sending them both off the treat themselves and rest before the next step in their plan.

And that's how they found themselves where they were. Sitting in what counted as their lair's "infirmary", Syntax with his own coat off set to the side for the moment and covered in small bandages and glowering down at the still seated spider demon in front of him.

Granted, his glower turned into a look he couldn't quite read once his coat has been removed. Frown softened and one eyebrow quirked as he tilted his head to the side.

"What?" Huntsman snapped, resisting the urge to hiss at him again.

"I just realized I've never seen you without your coat before," Syntax replied, smirking a bit. It was less mirthful than expected somehow. "At least you wearing a tank top underneath makes me treating your wound much simpler."

"Who said I was letting you treating my wound?"

"If you want to wrap bandages around that with one hand you can be my guest," Syntax continued on, grabbing the medicine kit that he'd pulled out of a cabinet earlier. "But generally speaking doing so is much easier when done with both hands."

There was no denying that statement. It would be much easier to let Syntax do this than to fight him, and as much as his pride wanted him to snap back and argue and insult him until he left him alone to do this on his own... he was tired.

Huntsman was tired and in pain (loathe as he was to admit it) and after everything that had happened and watching Syntax attempt to talk with the Spider Queen about her new plan only to be shot down at every turn and forced to work longer and harder than either of the other two... he knew Syntax was tired too. He could see the dark circles under his eyes when he didn't wear his visor, how he rubbed them and rested them in his hand when he thought no one was looking. How he'd caught him sleeping in a chair more than once with his hand still on that thing strapped to his wrist as he worked well into the night to help their Queen.

Until the night prior, when he watched him barely manage to stumble in with Spider Queen behind him wearing an odd look on her face, he wasn't entirely sure when the last time he saw Syntax actually return to his sleeping quarters was.

"Fine," Huntsman grumbled, holding out his arm. "Only because I want to sleep."

"You and me both," he barely caught Syntax grumble under his breathe, and he could have sworn he heard the smallest hint of a laugh before the other raised his voice back to normal volume. "Apologies for any discomfort this may cause."

There was nothing said between them for a while after that, Syntax holding his arm firmly and gently (far more gently than Huntsman would have expected) cleaned and disinfected the wound. The hunter didn't even wince at the feeling, too used to it to find it really more than a mild nuisance at this point. It was when Syntax turned to grab the gauze and bandages that Huntsman spoke again.

"Where'd you learn to do this anyway? Aren't you a computer nerd?"

Syntax scoffed, looking at him in mock offense when he knelt down in front of him (he was starting to recognize when Syntax was actually offended and trying to look so to get a rise out of him in their little rivalry). "I work with chemicals and tech and you think I didn't learn at least basic first aid at my original job?"

This actually surprised Huntsman for a moment. He hadn't known the scientist back when he was human for very long, hadn't really known him for very long as a turned demon either, and he was starting to realize he didn't really... know that much about him at all.

"I didn't," he admitted, and he took note in the way the other's grip loosened for half a second before he continued to carefully apply the gauze. "I didn't really think much about your past life at all."

"No one ever asked," Syntax said tensely, clearing his throat as he began carefully wrapping his arm. "Outside of our Queen." He added her on quickly, as if implying she hadn't known about his human life was offensive to her.

"Do you want me to ask?" Huntsman said without thinking, the words out before he could realized he has asked them. He watched as Syntax paused, not looking up from his work but holding the other's wrist in a slightly tighter grip.

"... I don't know," Syntax answered after another beat of silence, continuing on with his work. "Does it matter?"

"I don't know either," Huntsman admitted, looking down and noticing a few things on Syntax for the first time. He'd also never seen the other without his trademark lab coat before, the burn scars on his upper arms and a scrape on his shoulder that was barely hidden by his coat collar now showing under his short sleeved dress shirt. They were old scars, clearly from when he was still human, chemical scars that were more recent dotting his lower arms as well. They may have even been from the experiments with their bots. "You know, I never expected you to actually have muscles."

This time Syntax looked at him in genuine offense, gently yanking at the bandages and making them ache horribly in retaliation... but not too much, Huntsman noted. "Speak for yourself Mr. Macklemore Coat."

"Mackle-what?"

"...Old foreign music reference, nothing more." The scientist sighed out as he finished adhering the bandage, seeming to wilt as his reference was lost on the other and more tired looking than before this conversation started. He stood, gesturing at his work with a half shrug before turning to replace everything back in their original home and grabbing his coat to slide it back on.

The wince that went through Huntsman when he slid his own coat back on and felt a certain something in his coat pocket when Syntax wasn't looking at him hurt more than his wound.

"If that's everything, I-"

"I'm sorry," Huntsman interrupted, shocking the other into turning around with wide eyes. "For not trying to get to know you before all... this."

"I..." Syntax looked around the room. "Uh... it's fine? We can... get to know each other if this all... works."

His words were stilted and awkward, completely understandable given how adversarial their relationship had been until recently. Until they had been starting to be forced to work together.

"We could uh... probably work faster if we rebuilt the bots... together?" Huntsman kept his back turned to the other, not wanting him to see his own awkward expression. "Since I helped in the design process and all and our Queen is... preoccupied. You look like you could use the company."

The two stood still in the infirmary, Huntsman just barely turning to watch Syntax as he thought over his answer. A frown deep set in his face, like he expected this to be a cruel prank on Huntsman's part. But when Huntsman said nothing else he seemed to relax, glancing down at the tear in the other's coat arm.

"... yes. Yes, actually, I think I would appreciate that."

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #syntax #huntsman #i threw in a couple little headcanons because i could #sometimes lines in the show exist and give me ideas #prompt fill #gen fic #(sorta)

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