#anyway this chapter is the true reason i wrote this entire fic

[carusolikey]

The Blue Hour

a Max Phillips & Bloodsucking Bastards FanFic

Chapter 5: The Killing Moon Continued...

Part 2/2: Max, You've Got Some Explaining to Do

Previously, on 'The Blue Hour' - An unwelcome blast from the past reappeared, with questionable motivations. Max made it his business to use some of his unique skills to lift spirits and in return, a few areas of improvement were demonstrated for entertainment's sake. This week - There will be blood. And a new sense of intimacy. Special warnings apply to this chapter - take care to peruse, dear reader - Bloodsucking Bastards be lurking in these pages!

Pairing: Max Phillips of Bloodsucking Bastards x afab!fem!reader

Rating: Explicit / NSFW 18+ (No Minors)

Author’s Note: I wrote this piece during the month of April 2024 - Adenomyosis Awareness Month, and the idea came to me during March 2024 (Endometriosis Awareness Month). This will not have any type of pregnancy kink, but will touch on infertility of OC due to the aforementioned; canon for this story is also that Vampires are infertile - there will be no Renesmé. OC is intended to be around the same age as Max, reader’s choice up or down, but no age gap. Because older afab/fem lovers are sexy - we drink and we know things. The style of this sticks to the humor and playfulness of the original movie, while incorporating a very sexy and romantic Max, even though he is a little bit of a cocky, smartmouth asshole.

Warnings: 18+ only content. This chapter includes some grisly, Bloodsucking Bastards-style vampires murdering, with suggestive gifs that may include some swaths of blood, from the movie upon which this fic is based. A bit of rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration - P in V, oral [m + f receiving]). Consensuality is implied and intended through actions and reactions, no protection used for Vampire reasons previously disclosed (be wise and always use protection, this is fiction). Able bodied / Invisibly disabled fem afab reader with endometriosis. Alcohol consumption. Non-gendered pet names, fem can be carried and has hair - though length is not mentioned. Did attempt to stay away from gendered pronouns and nicknames, although did use the word woman, possibly more than 3 times throughout the entire piece (not fully published yet) referring to OC. Will occasionally refer to history of endo / adeno.

Word Count: ~ 13,700+ (total between Part 1 + Part 2)

Return to the Masterlist!

Return to Chapter 5, Part 1

Continued...

“Oh, Max. Why don’t you tell me what exactly led to you taking such drastic action - because, we did talk about you not coming with me for exactly this type of reason.”

“Well,” He sighed, “yes, that’s true. I guess - I was coming back from work and I saw you leaving the building. I knew you were going to see him, so I thought I’d stick around the vicinity and check him out - see what he looked like, in case he was the type to start zombie-ing.”

Chuckling, I bewilderedly asked, “What? Zombie-ing??”

“Yeah. Zombie-ing. It’s when someone ghosts you initially, but then won’t stop coming back from the dead to bug you while you’re just trying to get on with your life.”

Pondering that, I replied, “That’s real. That’s very real.”

“Yeah. I know.” He said in a silly, yet matter-of-fact tone, “And I didn’t want that happening to you, cause this guy sounded like a real asshat.”

I bowed my head in recognition, and tipped my glass towards him, “I can appreciate that.”

“Anyway,” Max continued, “you got to the café before him and I waited - you played that happy-sounding sad song, which– broke my heart for you. I watched him walk up while on his phone, talking to a friend, telling them that he had to meet with his ‘fucked up ex’ and that you were probably going to try to hook up with him. I almost killed him there.” 

He paused, taking another swig of his Laphroaig as I shuddered thinking about the conflicting ideas my ex presented: ‘she’s fucked up, but I’m gonna hook up with her still.’ AND he’s seeing someone else. Was seeing someone else. I wonder if Nat misses him yet? I frowned thinking about the whole mess.

“I loved the way you reacted to him, though.” Max’s face broke out into a huge smile. “The way you gave him absolutely nothing and walked away was hot.” He fox-whistled, shaking his head. “HOT–” 

He rubbed his stomach and stretched, reaching one arm around my shoulders in a move that in general seems like it's reserved for awkward teenagers, but making me smile with his genuine affection.

 “I was gonna meet up and walk you back into the apartment building, but then I heard him make another phone call to his friend.”

With his face souring slightly, he went on, “He told his friend that you were a total bitch to him, after he ‘supposedly’ told you that he was in a committed relationship and that he never wanted to have sex with you again because it was boring - but he was ‘just being honest’ and that’s what set me off. That piece of shit just wanted to keep fucking with you, even though the relationship is over, has been over - and after the way he treated you while you were in it? No. Fuck that.”

His face hardened as he discussed what happened next, “I stuck around. There’s no doubt in my mind that little fucker wouldn’t keep popping up and trying to hurt you, and that’s not something I’m willing to stand by and watch. He came out of the café and I rushed him against the far wall near the dumpsters. Specifically so his last sensory experience could be the overwhelming scent of trash, since that’s what he apparently aspired to be."

"When I pulled out his heart and fed it to those street dogs, I let him know - that’s what you get for being a dick to a really amazing person, that I–” he stopped for a second, and swallowed, “that I care about.” 

He swirled the whiskey around his glass, “After I tossed his remains in the dumpster, where they belong,” he emphasized, “I was surprised to hear Peter Gabriel playing, and when I looked up and saw that it was coming from your apartment–” Max shook his head, chuckling a little, “You gave me my Lloyd Dobler moment, but you were Lloyd and I was Ione Skye.”

“Seeing you in my shirt when I got up to your apartment–” he trailed off there, squeezing me closer with the arm he had around my shoulder, and kissing me on the forehead, letting out a stilted breath.

I knew the rest from there, but I was incredibly touched by how open he was in explaining his motivations. This. This is the difference. This is why you’re able to be compassionate towards him and lack compassion towards the man he tossed in a dumpster. That man was trash.

“I care about you, too, Max.”

He looked back at me a little startled, apparently not expecting me to focus on that part of his recap of the evening. Max, the extraordinarily unshakeable - blushed.

Bringing my free hand up to his luminous face, I stroked his cheek and ran my fingers through his hair as he closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them, he examined my face, focusing on my lips and then moving to my eyes. His eyebrows furrowed as though he were trying to make up his mind about something. I continued carefully drawing my fingers through his hair, when he pulled his arm from around me, turning towards me - placing his whiskey glass down and his left hand on my left leg. 

Finally he spoke up, “That first night - the one when you first started doing your laundry in the middle of the night?”

“Mmhmm?” I gave him a quick vocal assertion, but all of my attention as I turned my whole body towards him, too.

“The song you were singing, it was so - it really got to me. I was not in a great place after being turned. I was - I was having a hard time seeing the upsides of being a vampire, I missed the sun - I felt like… I’d had something valuable taken away from me by no longer being human. But then - I heard you singing.” 

While I continued twisting his hair in my fingers, he took both of his hands and started rubbing up and down my thighs - not sexually, but sort of absentmindedly, as though the act brought him some comfort, just to be touching me. 

“Even though the melody seemed sad, the lyrics felt as though - like you were begging me to keep going. Once I heard your voice, it was so much easier to pick you out amongst the building, and there you were. The light in the darkness. Sunshine for a vampire. And I’m not saying that you needed to be my savior, that’s not your job - I just realized that as a vampire, I was missing a lot of the things that I loved as a human. But those things aren’t gone, they’re just - different - now. I experience them differently, and it’s worth exploring.”

He sighed, looking down, “And I suppose the other thing I missed - is… was, connection.”  

Setting my whiskey down, I took my newly free hand and lifted his face, giving him a soft kiss - which he readily returned.

“Do you remember which song it was?” I asked, interested which ballad could have affected him so.

“I don’t know the name of it, but I vaguely remember that there were crazy babies, and you were begging them not to turn off lights. Which doesn’t sound very profound, but–”

“Oh, I know exactly which song you’re talking about!” A little shocked, I was pleasantly surprised that the few clues he provided me with were enough for me to pinpoint the precise tune.

“You do?” He smiled at me, delightfully astonished.

“And your hands are really shakin’ something awful, as you light your 27th cigarette. Oh how long have you been sittin’ in the darkness? You forget.” I began to sing. “Oh, my crazy baby. Try to hold on tight. Oh, my crazy baby. Don’t put out the light - the liiiiight, the liiight, the liiiiiight.”

Max took my right hand in his left, bringing it to his heart, and laid his head in my lap as I continued smoothing his hair.

“And they look at you like they don’t speak your language. And you’re living at the bottom of a well. And you swallowed all the awful bloody secrets that you can’t tell.” 

I thought about how the lyrics must really have resonated with him, watching him hold onto me, his vulnerability was a new type of strength that I was seeing. This big, overwhelming, new state of existence that was thrust upon him. It wasn’t much different than the sudden decisions I had been faced with, but he never, ever attempted to make that comparison.

As I neared the end of the song, someone from the street yelled, “SHUT UP!” 

And Max immediately sat up and yelled, “YOU SHUT-UP - MY GIRLFRIEND HAS THE VOICE OF A GODDAMNED ANGEL!”

“YO’ FUCK YOU AND YOUR GIRLFRIEND, FUCKFACE!”

Max's reaction was almost like a dog who sensed someone walking past their house - immediate and unnecessarily aggressive, but for the most part harmless. It was kind of hilarious, which is why my reaction was to laugh.

“Hey! Why are you laughing? I’m viciously defending you, and that guy should be afraid of me!” Max complained.

Slapping my hand over my mouth, I tried to stop my laughing, but his sincerity in believing that what was happening was a sincere line of defense, was too much for me. 

“I swear to god, I’ll give you something to laugh about.” He squinted at me, threatening me with his index finger.

Max jumped up, grabbing a coaster and walking to the edge of the building, tossing it like a frisbee. Not more than a few seconds later, an extremely loud, “OW, WHAT THE FUCK??!” echoed up from the street, along with a chorus of many dogs barking, disturbed by the outburst, as well as at least two car alarms triggered by the loud noise.

He then shrugged and brushed his hands off, like it was all in a day’s work. 

“You proud of yourself?” I asked him, amused.

“To defend the honor of someone I care about immensely?!” He asked dramatically, putting his left hand up to his chest as he walked back, sliding back into his previous position next to me, placing his right hand on my left knee. “Beyond proud!”

“Max?” 

“Yes, Sweetness?” Taking hold of my right hand, he looked deep into my eyes, kissing the palm of my hand and then pretending to nibble at my wrist playfully.

“Remember that time we talked about how I can fight my own battles, or how at the very least we should talk about how we’re going to approach those battles together?” I teased.

His face dropped, “No. No - because that guy, that was between me and him. It might’ve seemed like it was about you, but I think you have to agree - that in the end, he just wanted to provoke me.”

Max bit his lip, waiting for me to accept or deny that reasoning.

I couldn’t keep a straight face and burst out laughing, “Max! Your response to some guy being a dick was to aggressively throw a COASTER at him. That was it! And it was hilarious. I approve. You’re fine.”

Max let out a huge sigh of relief, “Oh god, oh my god,” he chuckled nervously, “I thought I went too far again. Whew! Okay. Okay. Great.”

He hugged me and kissed me a few times on the cheek while I continued laughing, and then just proceeded to crush me with his body. “VAMPIRE BLANKET!”

“Nooooo. Whyyyyyy. I asked for a leopard print snuggie.” I responded, flailing lightly.

“You don’t want me?” Max lifted his head to look me in the eyes.

“I always want you.” I started, “Vampire Blanket feels like it should be something I take on a Vampire Weekend, though.”

“Ahhhh, no!” Max groaned.

“Skee-bop, dope-bop, a-wee-bop, dope-bop, weeeee-oooooh-aaaaah!” I started singing A-Punk by Vampire Weekend.

He chuckled, “Are, uh - are those the words?”

“Pretty darn sure. Google it.” I dared him with my eyes.

“No. Those sound right. It seems like you’re on top of that.” 

He looked out over the terrace, where the sky was starting to lighten up and then back to me. We both knew it was time to call it a night. Max stood up first, holding his hand out for me to take, and we grabbed our empty whiskey glasses from the table. Before leaving the terrace, he peeked inside the incinerator, making sure that everything was destroyed before shutting it off.

When we got inside, Max led me into the bedroom. “You don’t have any sheets on your bed, you should sleep here.” He reached into a drawer and tossed me a t-shirt.

“It seems like you’ve made up my mind for me?”

“Leave then.” His face was blank, with a smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth as he put on a fresh pair of dress pants.

“I mean, I think I’ll take you up on your offer, because I am tired–”

“That’s what I thought,” He said as a full smile cracked through, while buttoning up his dress shirt.

I grumbled a little as I let my robe drop off, revealing my entire body to Max, whose smile dropped into a hungry, slightly open-mouthed stare. Slipping into the t-shirt he provided, his grin returned.

Licking his lips, he mused, “You look great.” 

I glanced down at what I was wearing, and it was a band t-shirt for Heart. Why not? Of course Max is a Heart fan. 

“I know you have to go to work, but I’m going to need to know which Heart song is your favorite and why, in a 500 word essay form.”

Max shrugged as he put on his tie, “I’m an enigma - and I don’t know that 500 words is enough for me to fully go Crazy On describing what my favorite song is and why. Why does it have to be one, Alone? They’ve all got their own Magic, Man. This feels like some sort of Barracuda fishing expedition! Geez!”

He finished his statement with faux annoyance, then walked over to me, dressed and ready to go, and gave me a kiss on the lips, as I giggled at his clever, yet corny, Heart puns.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But you like it.”

“I do.” I said, straightening his tie.

Max looked down at me as I took my time smoothing his tie and shirt, “Listen, tonight –” he seemed a little unsure of asking, “you still up for drinks with my coworkers?”

Pausing, I thought for a moment, “I think so! Where is it again?”

Seeming relieved, he responded, “It’s at that Pin-Up candlepin bowling place a few blocks from here - it’s close to my office, actually.”

“Oh, yes! Kinda fancy, right?”

“Ish?” Max shrugged. “Definitely nicer than a lot of other dives.”

“Okay. Yeah - that sounds great.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up from here or –”

“At my apartment, Max. I have no clothes here, c’mon.”

“I like you like this.” His hand moved under and up the t-shirt, raising his eyebrows the higher he got. “It’s high fashion as far as I’m concerned.”

I rolled my eyes, modestly amused. “Are you staying with me or going to work?”

Max raised his wrist, looking at his watch, “Shit. Yeah, I’ve gotta go - get in bed, go to sleep! You need to make sure you have enough energy for partying tonight.” 

Suddenly, a giant, open-mouthed smile spread across his face, and he danced backwards out of the bedroom, doing a combination of disco and Gangnam Style, maybe? It was hard to tell what he was going for, but it was certainly entertaining to watch. Note to self: start calling him Magic Max? 

Once I got into his bed, I laid there for a little while trying to sleep - but everything that had happened in the past 24 hours started to hit me. I needed to take some time and process it without Max, so I stared at the ceiling for a bit. When that wasn’t sufficient, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and willed myself to stand up. Maybe I could grab some more paper from Max’s desk - let myself filter some of this through stream of consciousness poetry.

As I stood up and started to leave the room, something caught my eye on Max’s dresser, and I had to check it out. Walking closer, my heart started to pump a little harder, and I put my hand up to my chest. Two frames stood atop his dresser, perfectly mismatched and matching everything else. Inside one frame was the drawing I did of him, the other - the poem I wrote.

Is this too much? I wondered. Or is this exactly right? He’s valuing the things that I create, the things that I do and make. Why does that make me uncomfortable? They were gifts I gave him, this isn’t a shrine with hair dolls made from hair he secretly collected from my hairbrush. Oh shit. Do I need to look for one of those? No. No? No. I thought for another moment. No. I’m not getting that vibe…. I don’t think I’m getting that vibe. Hahahhaa.

Decidedly moving on, I went to Max’s desk and grabbed some paper and a pencil from where I’d seen him retrieve it for me a couple nights earlier. Sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, I scrolled through my phone for something that might get my juices flowing. Ultimately and perfectly landing on a cover of Tears for Fears, Shout, by Russian Red. 

“Shout, shout, let it all out. These are the things I can do without. Come on - I'm talking to you, come on.”

The ethereal chorus urged me to give voice to the pain that still clung to my ribs. The things I wished I’d said, I’d wished I’d done, and perhaps already did. Just like that, a flick of the wrist, a switch in the dark, and my anger, frustration, the ache and agony over unspoken grief poured forth - and it was not necessarily for whom I expected.

In order to get closer to you, I have to lose myself. In the closeness  when I cease to exist, you always want something else. I fill myself up, drown my ears,  my thoughts, in a tub of your wants. Fully saturated, like a sponge that can’t soak up  anymore of this spill, just wiping and spreading more of you, still. You’re everywhere. Staining the floor and the rug. Somewhere in this house, there’s an overflowing tub, and it’s me - I know it. I can’t take any more of this. As the water rises, I realize that I’m your life raft, your flotation device - when they said to put your oxygen mask on first, you took mine. Swallowed up by your torrent and tides, I cut loose the bottle at my hip - the one I kept myself inside. No note, just me - my place to hide. Toss it into the waves  and wave goodbye. While you use the parts still here, my self will be carried elsewhere. Somewhere far and nowhere near, to be found by someone who can spare a little space, a little room, cozy on display, or let me loose - but no more will I have to choose between suffocating myself in order to be with you, or being me, relentlessly, now, no more - nothing left to lose. I’ve lost myself,  but never again to you.

Reading over my own words, stretching my arms above my head, I felt satisfied - like I’d captured the experience of being with my ex exactly, honestly. I always tried to justify his behavior, to give him the benefit of the doubt, to be the bigger person. Carrying that was a lot.

With my Spotify on random, I was pleasantly surprised when Heart’s, Alone, came on after Shout, completely unplanned and perfectly serendipitous. Hmmm. That word again, but this time I’m the one using it intentionally.

Feeling a lot better, I decided to scribble out a little 7-9-7 Haiku about Max.

You bleed me dry on the sly, Even if it’s just with your brown eyes. Secretly though, just bite me.

Cackling, I knew I couldn’t show this to him - he would take it as an invitation, and I wasn’t sure if we were there yet. My mind went straight to Sookie Stackhouse in True Blood, and her vampire paramours, constantly fang-banging. Hilarious and sexy, my two favorite things. 

I went back into the bedroom and tucked the poems into the pocket of my robe, feeling satisfied and like I could finally sleep. Tucking myself under Max’s covers, I fell asleep surrounded by his scent.

To be Continued Next Week via Chapter Six...

Check out the Easter Eggs for this chapter here.

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Return to Chapter 5, Part 1

Should the mood strike, let me know if you're digging this story by liking, reblogging, or leaving a little comment. It's up to you!

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

⭐ for the director's cut?

ooooh, thanks for asking @niennawept!!

(i'm not going to lie, it's TOUGH to pick out one thing to focus on...but actually, i was skimming back through my WIP doc the other day, and re-read Chapter 24: Heartrending and there were some things in there i really enjoyed revisiting, so we're gonna talk about that!)

one of the things i am MOST proud of in this fic that i came to rather organically was Adar having three names, in line with the elvish naming conventions Tolkien established, despite the fact that he was separated from his elven kindred early in life.

that wasn't something i had necessarily planned from the outset, but when i had the idea that Lenneth might give him a name after one of the constellations, Telumendil, i realized that the setup was there.

so in my 'verse, he has his father-name (Eren), given by Iluvatar. His "mother name" (or "name of insight," more accurately in this case) is the one given to him by Lenneth (Telumendil, "lover of the stars"). and then his chosen name, of course, is Adar.

Once i figured that out thematically, it set up for a LOVELY identity crisis at a crucial moment in the story. It also led me to one of the sentences in this fic that i am MOST proud of:

(putting below the tag for spoilery reasons)

"In each name there is a sorrow: for Eren had no offspring, and Adar has no wife, and Telumendil will slip away entirely when Lenneth breathes her last."

When i wrote that sentence, i was honestly struck by how succinctly it summed up the tragedy of Adar's life: how in early his early years, obviously, he wanted both his true love (Erenyë) and children, but was unable to have both together.

and then in his later years, i think his deepest desire was to be known by someone, and that's the critical role Lenneth came to play in the narrative.

In very early drafts, I did intend for her to be a bit more of an overt love interest for Adar than she ultimately became (did I maybe write the beginnings of smut for them at one point? possibly.) But the more time I spent on building Adar and Erenyë's relationship dynamic and the depth of his devotion to her throughout the many ages of his life, I realized that it wouldn't make sense to do that.

I wanted Erenyë to always be the primary driver in his life, his reason for everything, and for there to be almost a sanctity to their relationship that he clings to. That's ultimately, IMHO, what shields him from succumbing fully to darkness and despair. And that would have been diminished if i'd allowed him to advance and consummate a relationship with Lenneth.

nevertheless, Lenneth is one of the most significant figures in Adar's life, after Erenyë and Mazul. she is the keeper of all three of his names, she is the one who has had the ability to see every aspect of him, and that's something not even Erenyë would ever have known.

Which led me to this heartbreaker of a sentence:

His own breath stutters in his throat at the thought of her. Lenneth is the only soul ever to know him by all three names, and soon she will be gone.

and then of course, we come to the conversation between Adar and Vrak (the younger uruk who came to be incredibly curious about elf culture), and I got to have this moment where Adar is able to (semi-directly) acknowledge both Lenneth and Erenyë together and it just felt like a beautiful and heartbreaking moment in the story.

“Adar?” Vrak asks when he is through. “Am I—are we all—descended from mothers as fair as she?” The question is a knife, though Vrak knows not just how sharp. He swallows, attempting to shift the thick knot of emotion at his throat. “As fair, and fairer still.”

Annnnnnnnnnnd now i'm in my feelings.

Anyway, thank you for the ask and for listening to my ramblings!

[ahdraftingco]

Oneshot: Such A Good Listener

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

AO3 Crosspost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41184948

Rating: Explicit, readers are advised to read the warnings below before proceeding.

Warnings (in no particular order): Gender-Neutral (AFAB) Reader, Porn With Plot, Friends to Lovers, Soft!Din Djarin, Depictions of Anxiety/Depression/Self-Esteem Issues, Nightmares, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Phone Sex, Praise Kink, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Multiple Orgasms, Alcohol Usage, Bad Jokes, Playful Sex

Summary: You wouldn't call you and Din Djarin "friends" but he's always there for you when you need him. So, when you're having one of those days where you just need a little bit more than a friend, he's happy to deliver.

Word Count: 14.7k+ (this oneshot can be read in chapters on AO3)

A/N: I will note that I wrote this to comfort myself during a low period so there are realistic depictions of anxiety/depression/self-loathing so be aware of this before proceeding in case that might be triggering for you!

To contrast with my rather dark series (Lesson Learned), this oneshot features a soft and playful Din and there's a lot of banter/all around lighthearted vibes. This fic also has a gender-neutral (afab) reader, just like one of my other oneshots (Let Me Help You), so if you enjoyed that story, you'll hopefully like this one too! ♡

Three days. It's been three days since the last time you've gotten out of bed. Well, okay, maybe that's not completely true. Technically you got up to stuff snacks in your bedside drawer and to go to the bathroom, but other than that, you've been sulking in bed.

The nightmares are back. Though, they're more like night terrors. The kind of dreams where it's just dark and you're so scared out of your fucking mind that you always wake up in a cold sweat, feeling absolutely disgusting.

It only makes it worse that you wake up alone with no one there to tell you everything's going to be okay.

You're a strong independent person but sometimes you just fucking wish you didn't have to solely depend on yourself.

Wouldn't it be nice to be taken care of for once? Is that too much to ask? It feels like the universe thinks so…

You haven't slept since yesterday. You've been up for almost an entire day now and there's no way you're going back to sleep. You sat with the cold water running in your refresher just to stay awake. You refuse to sleep. You're terrified of what might happen if you do.

You can't wake up alone again. You absolutely can't. So, you do the only thing you can do at a moment like this.

You phone a friend, though calling Din Djarin your friend is a bit…interesting.

Not that you two aren't friends. You are. Kind of? It's confusing.

You can't really say you two have a friends with benefits situation either because it only happened once. He needed a place to crash so you offered to let him stay with you. Which wasn't anything out of the ordinary, he has been over plenty of times before to sleep. You had a guest bedroom for a reason.

However, that one time, he came over and he asked if you had anything to drink. You did. He knew you did. He has stolen your liquor plenty of times before so you had no clue why he was asking permission this time. But he asked anyway.

You pulled out the bottles you had and…he took off his helmet. He must have been having a very bad day because you don't think he even thought about the fact that you were there with him. He just wanted to drink with nothing getting in the way.

At the very least, he let you control his intake, so you made sure to pad every shot with a glass of water. He didn't protest, since it meant he could keep drinking.

After a while, you had to speak up. You were worried that seeing his face would affect his creed. You didn't want to accidentally harm him in some way but you couldn't really take back the sight of him.

It ingrained itself into your memory.

His soft curls, his light patchy stubble, his warm skin, his brown eyes that stared so hopelessly into yours. You knew that look. It was him, reaching out to you without words. His eyes screamed what he couldn't say. He was reflecting his depression in them and you felt so terrible that the first time you ever got to see him, it was because he was too out of it to consider the consequences.

That's when he told you what happened. How he's no longer the Mandalorian. How he's just "Din Djarin" now. How he had taken the helmet off one too many times. How he felt so lost, so alone, so…outcasted by the only family he had.

You stopped giving him drinks after that.

You went over and knelt beside Din. Then, you started to strip off his armor. You didn't want him to carry more weight than he should at that moment and he let you as he spoke in rambles, like he was desperate to vent it all out to someone. That's what you were there for. You unbuckled every strap holding his armor to his body in silence as you listened to him speak and after a while, he just watched you. There weren't words left to say at that point. He had gotten them all out and you had heard them all.

You can still feel the way his hand grazed your cheek. You didn't know when he took off his gloves. You weren't paying attention. But, you let him touch you and he did. He brushed his fingers along every inch of your face and simply stared at you knelt on the floor beside him.

Very few words were exchanged after that. You remember Din asking if he could touch more of you and you saying yes. You could tell he had never done anything like that before, which is why you didn't mind being his first. He took his time exploring every inch of your naked body, his curiosity running wild. You liked how he didn't realize the looks he was making, since he was so used to having the helmet on. He would glaze his eyes over you, not hiding a single emotion on his face. Was that what he looked like under the helmet? It was almost innocent in a way.

This went on for hours, to the point where you knew Din was completely sober and fully aware of what he was doing. He asked if it was okay and you reassured him every time he needed it. He asked if he was doing things right and you showed him how to make you feel good. He was a very fast learner. You liked how gentle he was. You also liked how unafraid he was to ask if he could do more.

You can't recall how many times you came that night. He kept wanting to learn more and you weren't going to stop him. You were enjoying yourself as much as he was and it was obvious that this distracted him from his spiraling thoughts.

Din had something else to focus on for a moment: you.

At a certain point, you gained enough courage to ask him if you could touch him. Din said yes and you took an equal amount of time exploring his naked body. You knew this sight was something that was only for you. No one had ever seen him like that. No one else knew the way he looked when he felt good. Only you.

You didn't like the thoughts that swirled your mind after that. You wanted to claim Din. You wanted to have him all to yourself. You wanted him to only do this with you, but you had no control over that so you didn't act on those thoughts. You only did as much as he allowed you to. You wouldn't get greedy and overstep.

The only regret you have from that night was having him wear protection. You made him for his own sake because you wanted him to get used to the idea so he knew to use it with other people. It was important to use protection but you had an implant so you wished you had let him go without just to know what it would've felt like to have him finish inside of you at least once.

You both went through all the protection you had that night. A part of you wondered if it would have gone on longer if you had more in stock. It was the only reason you chose to stop, even though you could've easily let yourself drown in how good it felt to be held by Din.

You hadn't bothered to buy more protection since then. It was clearly a one-time thing. He never even mentioned it afterwards. You should've taught him aftercare but…you hated the fact that you didn't think you deserved it. He already made you feel better than you've felt in ages. You just couldn't get yourself to ask for more than that. It felt too selfish to experience the way it would've felt to be cuddled by him. Maybe that's another thing you regret.

You should stop reminiscing. You're only going to work yourself up and that coupled with the sadness you already feel isn't going to help you in the long run.

You wait for the comm link to go through and you're surprised Din actually answered. Normally, you leave a message and he just shows up, but this time, he picked up.

"Yeah?" He says rather curt because he's breathing heavily.

What's going on?

"Are you alright? What are you doing?" You ask because you've never heard him this out of breath since–

The sound of him firing several rounds of his blaster rings in the background as he goes, "in the middle of fighting some bandits. Can you give me a second?"

"Why would you pick up in the first place!" You can't believe him right now.

What kind of person answers a comm in the middle of a gunfight!

"I thought–" He shoots his blaster three times in quick succession, "that it would be over sooner."

"You're ridiculous." You tell him with a sigh.

Din takes in several short breaths, like he just finished running. For some reason, instead of worrying about whatever he's doing, he asks you, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine." You shouldn't have called. He's busy and you're just getting in the way.

So you open your mouth to tell him to disregard this comm but he interrupts you before you can. "Can I come over later?"

"Do you want to?" You aren't going to make him.

The sound of him stabbing into someone with a knife cuts in as he answers, "yeah, I need to wash the blood off."

He yanks the knife out then and you're in utter shock that he's still talking to you. "You should hang up."

"I'll be done soon." He lets out those heavy breaths of his again that make you a bit too aware of how much you worked yourself up earlier thinking about him.

Your heart is racing and your thighs are squeezed together, your body desperate for some friction. You could just–

No. You're not going to do that. That's a ridiculous thought. Why are you thinking of touching yourself right now? Are you that pent up over him breathing?

"What are you doing?" His words pull a gasp out of you, like you've been caught in the act even though you aren't even doing anything.

You're only thinking about it.

"Nothing." You try to still your rapid heartbeat.

"Where are you right now?" He's strangely demanding in his tone.

"I'm just at home, laying in bed." You feel awkward admitting that but the words slip out before you could stop them.

"Why are you breathing so heavy if you're just laying in bed?"

Oh fuck, are you really? That's not good.

"I'm not breathing heavily." You deny his claim to avoid thinking of an appropriate answer.

"Yes you are." He's stricter now. "Tell me what you're doing."

"Aren't you in the middle of something?" You can literally hear him fighting.

"Are you?" Is he implying what you think he is?

"What is that supposed to mean?" You rebuttal. He can't possibly think that–

"Tell me, right now." There's a bite in his voice that sends shivers through you and now you're even more flustered than before.

"What do you want me to say?" You aren't doing anything, even though you desperately want to.

"Fine, if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to." His words throw you for a loop out of nowhere. "Just don't stop."

Wait, what? Does he want you to touch yourself?

"You're in the middle of something, Din." You attempt to reason with him.

"So are you. I want to hear you finish what you started." He can't be serious…

"Are you going to come over and finish what you've started?" You need to know that this is going to lead somewhere.

"Yes. I'll be there right after I'm done here. So give me something nice to listen to while I deal with these bandits." Din is causing your stomach to do flips at how provocative his voice is.

When did he learn how to speak like that? It's way too dangerous but you can't stop yourself from doing what he says.

So, you do what you've been wanting to, slipping your hand between your legs. You lay back, getting comfortable as you feel how wet you've gotten along your fingertips. Then, you drag your fingers upwards until you find your clit and your breath hikes suddenly.

"Tell me what you're doing." Din commands and you bite back your own embarrassment over how much you're enjoying this.

It takes you a while, mainly because you're a bit distracted by your own hand, but you eventually confess, "I'm touching myself."

"You'll have to give me a little more than that." He says with his own bout of heavy breathing.

It sounds like he's fighting someone in hand to hand combat and he wants you to talk to him? If you weren't so desperate for an orgasm right now, you might laugh at this whole situation but you really want to ease the tension coiling up in your body.

"I'm going slow." You draw out your words, so he can really enjoy them if he wants to. "Rubbing small circles with my fingertips. I'm so wet that it's distracting, making it too slippery. Hard to concentrate, hard to get it right."

"Are you thinking about me?" Fuck, why did he have to ask that?

And what compels you to answer truthfully? "Yes, I am."

"Do you remember the way I touched you before? You came so hard when I played with your clit and fingered you at the same time."

Does he have to remind you so vulgarly? Of course you remember, you were the one who told him what to do after all…

"I do." You admit.

"Then, do that. Use both hands." He instructs but you protest.

You can't do that because… "I'm holding the comm device against my ear with my other hand."

"Put me on speaker. I want to hear how wet you are." He's going to drive you insane if he keeps talking like that.

The heat rises in your body at the thought of him being able to actually hear you touch yourself but you don't dare disobey so you put him on speaker, laying the tiny tablet on your stomach. Then, you move your now free hand under your waistband so you can dip two fingers inside of you, biting your lip to stop yourself from whimpering in response.

"No more holding back your voice." He tells you sternly. "I want to hear you clearly."

"Din, you're making me go crazy saying that." Your legs buckle a little as you find a good rhythm with your hands, touching yourself exactly how you need to in order to get off.

"Isn't that a good thing? Don't you want to come?" He coaxes you closer to your orgasm. "Let me hear it. I'm impatient."

"How are you impatient for my orgasm?" You can barely speak those words out properly but you're just amazed he's acting like this.

"Because the faster you come, the quicker I can hear it again. You have to be close–wait, hold on." He grunts and you can hear the sound of him kicking someone and the body hitting the ground with a thud. Din then speaks up again but he's not talking to you, "can you please stay down? I'm trying to listen to something more entertaining than this shit."

You stop touching yourself then because you can't help yourself and let out the laugh you've been holding in.

Why is he being so cute right now?

"Hey, did you stop?" He sounds irritated but you realize he's not irritated at you when you hear him shoot his blaster. "Can you please stop fighting me! Can't you see I'm fucking busy?"

Din fires several more shots and a few more bodies drop in the background. He catches his breath and you ask, "is it over yet?"

"Yeah–" He gets cut off by the sound of footsteps charging at him, "fuck, there's a few more. Get back to it, I'll be done soon."

How are you supposed to touch yourself when this is so much more entertaining? You chuckle at the sounds of him fighting.

"I said, get back to it." He demands fiercely in the midst of fighting someone.

"Yes, sir!" You teasingly say before moving your hands back into your pants, starting to touch yourself again.

It takes you a bit to find a good pace again and Din sort of throws that out of the window when he tells you, "go faster."

"But–"

"Are you talking back to me?" He snaps at you before you can finish your sentence.

"No…" You cower a little, surprised he's being so aggressive.

"No, what? Address me correctly." Oh, he wants you to– "Hurry up, don't make me wait."

"No, sir." You answer back quickly.

"Good. I don't want to repeat myself again. So, go faster. I want to hear you come and I want you to come hard. Got it?" He demands a response.

"Yes, sir." You hold back a whine as you force yourself to ramp up speed, thrusting your fingers at a much quicker pace. This, combined with the way you're rubbing your clit, is building you towards an orgasm way too fast. You're going to come soon and you're terribly unprepared for him to hear it.

That's when he goes, "say my name."

You can't possibly do that, not when you're this close!

You attempt to argue, "Din–"

"Louder." He cuts you off at that moment with such a dominating voice that you can't hold it in anymore.

Right as you come, you breathe out his name loud enough to echo through your room as an unbelievable amount of pleasure shoots through you. All that tension releases and you writhe against your hands, choking on your own inhales from how intense it was. You pull your hands away and instinctively curl up into a ball, your whole body shaking uncontrollably. It's so difficult to catch your breath but you manage to when you hear him again.

"Good job. It sounds like you came a lot. You did so well." He praises you and you have no idea why that makes you feel even better than you do right now. "Now, go clean up and get back in bed. I'll be there soon."

"Actually soon or are there more bandits to deal with?" You laugh at your own joke.

"I won't keep you waiting, I promise." He's so gentle all of a sudden that your heart skips a beat.

"See you soon, Din." You cuddle up with the tablet in your hand, smiling as you end the comm link.

You should really get out of bed and do what he told you to but you're so sleepy all of a sudden. It's like all of your exhaustion finally caught up with you and you can't quite fight it anymore. You'll wash up in a bit.

You're just going to close your eyes for a few minutes…

❈❈❈❈❈❈

It's so cold. The darkness is unwelcoming and all consuming. Why did you fall asleep? Wasn't Din supposed to be here? Of course you fell asleep. How fucking stupid, why couldn't you just stay awake! He probably left when he saw you sleeping. He's never there when you wake up…

You don't want to wake up but you don't want to stay in this nightmare anymore. You don't know what to do. You're scared. You're so fucking scared because you know you're going to wake up sobbing, completely frozen in place. You always lock up but your heart will be pounding so much that your chest hurts.

Don't wake up. Wake up. Don't wake up. Wake up.

The decision lingers in your mind as you cry in your sleep. You don't even realize you've been shaken awake until you start screaming, not used to being touched the moment you wake up.

"It's okay. You're okay." A voice fills your ears and you don't believe it's real.

You blink, the tears blurring your vision. As your sight clears up, you see him. "Din?"

He's here…and he's not wearing anything except a pair of pants. How long has he been here? Why is he dressed like that? Or, better question, why isn't he dressed?

"Sorry, you were whimpering in your sleep so I thought it would be better to wake you up. Are you alright?" His hand pats the top of your head and you realize then that he has you wrapped up in his arms.

Wait…was he sleeping here with you?

"Why are you next to me?" You don't answer his question and just skip to your own.

"I told you I was going to be here." His words don't make sense to you for some reason.

"But I fell asleep…"

Din shouldn't be here. It's too nice. You don't deserve it.

Why is it so warm in his arms right now? You're all too tempted to lean in, to let him comfort you, but you can't.

"You must have been tired." He lifts his hands up to cup your face, wiping the tears away as they fall. "How long have you been having nightmares?"

You can't understand why him asking you makes your heart ache so much. Is it because it seems like he genuinely cares about you? Why is that so unbelievable sometimes? It's difficult to believe anyone gives a shit about you, especially when you're lost in the darkness of your mind sometimes.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine." You lie through your teeth, trying to put on a smile and blinking away the remaining tears.

"You wouldn't have reached out to me if you were fine." He points out and you look away, not knowing how to face him.

You don't want to face the consequences of your spur of the moment decision because then you'll remember the way you let him hear you touch yourself. You'll remember how good it felt to come and then how good it felt that he was happy you did. You'll remember the way his body feels against yours.

You're remembering it right now because you're still in his arms…

"I'm sorry, Din. Is it okay if we don't do this right now? I-I need a minute."

You can't handle being near him. You just want to melt into his touch and let him take all your pain away but that's too selfish. You'd be using him and his kindness. You aren't worth it.

"Do you want me to go?"

No. That's what you want to say but the word refuses to leave your lips.

Instead, the words that spill out are the product of your self-hatred, "you shouldn't have been here in the first place. There are better beds to wake up in than mine. I'm nothing but a hassle. I'm sorry."

You can't bear it anymore and you pull yourself away from him, getting up onto your feet and you immediately lock yourself in your bathroom. You almost don't turn on the refresher in time before you just burst out into tears. Your chest aches terribly and you can't breathe.

Are you having a panic attack? Maybe.

You don't even have the mind to strip. You just get right into the refresher, falling to your knees. The water runs over you and you can't say it helps at all. You're hoping Din has left already so he doesn't hear you sounding fucking terrible. You're so embarrassed…

Showing this side of you scares people away. It always does. No one wants a problem. No one wants to deal with someone who they can't control. No one wants someone who can't even control themselves sometimes.

It's not like you can help it. You'll get into one of your lower moods and it takes you a while to break free from the mindset. No one ever stays last enough to see you get better. It's as if they don't believe you ever will.

Can you blame them? You don't know. You truly think you're the problem.

You nearly shoved this problem onto Din. Why did you call him? Were you really that lonely that you had to ruin one of the only good relationships in your life?

You'll never recover from this. He'll never look at you the same way again. You shouldn't even think about him. It's your fault you fucked this up. You have to live with the consequences.

You should've never fallen asleep. If you had just stayed up, everything would've been different. Why couldn't you just stay awake!

Now, you won't sleep. You absolutely refuse to. So, you stay under the steady flow of cold water showering you until you're certain you won't be falling asleep any time soon.

You peel off your clothes then, letting them sit in the corner of the refresher. You'll deal with them when you're feeling better.

It takes you a bit, as it always does, but you find the energy to wash up. You scrub your skin a little too harshly, needing to feel something other than the complete emptiness that's torturing you inside.

You sigh as you shut the water, watching as it drips down your body. Sometimes, it feels like you aren't even in your body. You have to remind yourself that you have one.

With a towel wrapped around you, you unlock your bathroom and leave. As expected, Din isn't here anymore. You don't know if you should feel relieved or burst into more tears. It was stupid to think he would stay. You locked yourself in there for hours. At least, that's what it felt like.

Once you've dried off and tossed your towel somewhere to throw in the laundry later, you climb into your cold bed, bundling yourself in the covers. You really should've put on clothes first…

How is it cold already? Did you think it was going to be warm because Din was just here? Stupid. So stupid.

You can't cry anymore. That's not the truth but you don't want to start crying because you know it won't end if you do and you'll wear yourself out and you might accidentally fall asleep which will just restart the cycle of depression again. No, you need to stay awake. You need to break out of your own mind.

You just wish it wasn't so cold…

The sound of the door opening startles you and you actually let out a scream out of sheer panic. Who–

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Din reappears before you and you rub your eyes because you're in pure disbelief.

"What are you still doing here?" You spit out because it's the only thing you can say. "I thought you left…"

"I never left. I just went to get another shirt." He gestures to his now covered upper body.

Wait, but if he's already wearing a shirt, why is he holding one?

He catches your eyes staring and explains, "oh, this one's for you."

Then, Din takes off the shirt he's currently wearing, swapping it for the other one rather seamlessly. He walks over to your bedside and kneels down, not wanting to sit on the bed. He places his previously worn shirt beside you.

"I kept it warm for you, in case you're cold." His lips curve into a soft smile and you don't know why but you completely break down then, sobbing uncontrollably.

Did he really put on a shirt for the sole purpose of warming it up for you? That's just…you can't properly describe it. Nothing would do this gesture justice.

"I'll help you put it on." He places his hands on the covers, urging you to let him do the work for you.

You nod through your tears. His hands gently lift the covers off your body, then he pulls the shirt he was wearing on for you.

It is warm.

"Better?" Din asks, resting his arms on the bed, looking up at you.

"W-why would you do this for me?" You barely get the words out through your sniffles.

"Because this is me telling you to let me carry some of that weight you're holding all by yourself, even if it's just wearing my shirt to keep you warm."

You didn't realize how much lighter you feel having his warmth around you. You smell his familiar scent on the fabric of the shirt and it's oddly comforting because his direct touch would be too much for you. You can take this. You're okay with a shirt.

Letting him comfort you? That's a whole other hurdle. You don't think you're ready for that yet. But this shirt? This is exactly what you need right now.

"Thank you." You wipe the tears away. "I'm sorry–"

"Don't apologize." He stops you before you dip back into that guilty mindset. "You didn't make me do anything. I wanted to do this. Think of it as a purely selfish thing. I should be the one apologizing to you."

"Why would you need to apologize to me?" You tilt your head in confusion, your sobs subsiding now.

That's when Din shifts to look you right in the eyes and says, "because I'm trying to convince you to let me stay here with you even though you told me to go."

"Do you really want to stay?" You ask but you're unsure if you'll believe whatever he tells you in response.

"I want to do more than just stay. I'm sorry." He smirks after he apologizes and you chuckle a little.

"You don't look very sorry." You tease him and he laughs in return.

"I'm not, at least not about wanting to do more with you than just sit here." He's swimming in treacherous waters right now with those words.

"I quite like the way you look sitting there." It's your turn to smirk. It's true, him knelt at the side of your bed is sparking something inside of you.

"I wouldn't mind staying here if you give me something to do." Is Din really offering…

"You don't have to." You recede into yourself a little, those bad thoughts clawing their way back up again.

"Listen to me." His voice snaps you out of your potential spiral. "If you want something, then be honest. Don't worry about whether or not it's too much for me. That's for me to decide, okay? I can always say no."

You have no idea where these words come from but you just blurt them out, "what if I want too much?"

"You'll never know until you ask. For all you know, maybe what you want is barely enough for me." His gaze on you is intense.

There's a softness in it but you know what he looks like with desire in his brown eyes and that's the stare looking back at you.

Pure desire.

"Then tell me what you want, Din. Let me be the one to say yes or no." You can't bring yourself to ask him for anything but if he wants something, then you can do that.

He doesn't waste any time and asks, "will you let me make you feel good right now?"

"How?" You want to know what he wants to do specifically.

He chuckles and then says, "am I allowed to say every possible way as my answer?"

You laugh because you know he's being serious. "You're really adorable sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" He raises an eyebrow at you, feigning disappointment.

"Would you rather be adorable all the time or between my legs right now?" You say as smoothly as you can without getting too worked up.

"You know my answer." He pats the space in front of him.

"Do you want to get on the bed?" You feel kind of bad having him kneel there, even if he looks great there.

"I want you to get your ass over here, now." Din is perfectly demanding with his tone.

You nod and move the covers off of you, revealing that you're bare from the waist down. You love the smile he has on his face as you sit up, hanging your legs off the side of the bed. He settles himself between your legs, looking up at you with those soft eyes of his.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting to finally touch you again?" His hands press against your inner thighs, spreading your legs wide open for him.

"You've only ever touched me once, Din. Why so eager?" Your hand finds its way into his curls, admiring the way they look between his fingertips.

"Because I only ever want to touch you." His words make your heart pound.

"What?" You're a bit shocked. "You haven't touched anyone else?"

"Why would I?" He leans in then, kissing your skin. You shiver at the feeling of his stubble scratching you lightly as he says, "you're the only person I've ever wanted. Why would I ever touch anyone else when I have you?"

"Wait, Din." You tap his head and he lifts away from you, staring up at you in confusion. The insecurity creeps into your words, "you don't have to say things like that to me."

Especially when you don't mean it.

That's how you want to end your sentence but you stop yourself from pushing your problems onto him. He doesn't need to say sweet words to you. They only make things difficult in the long run…

"Do you not believe me?" He asks and you swallow your nerves.

"It's not that I don't, I just…"

You don't want him to waste his affection on someone like you. He should find someone else who isn't so lost in their own head.

"Lay down." He tells you and you blink at him, not sure if you should. "If you don't want me, that's fine. But, if you do want me, then lay down and pay attention to me instead of your spiraling mind."

"Din…" You don't know what to do.

If you let him make you feel good, then you'll never be able to let him go. It'll break you, even more than you already are broken.

"Tell me you don't want me and I'll leave you alone." He gives you that out you believe you want.

"I'm scared to want you." You admit the truth and the tears start to fall from your eyes again. "I'm scared I'll ruin the only good relationship left in my life if I allow myself to want you. I'm so scared…"

You sob into your hands. You're so overwhelmed with emotion right now. You can't want him. You don't deserve him. You're just taking advantage of his kindness.

Why did you ever think you could do this?

"Lay down." He whispers and you feel his breath against your ear with his hand resting on your back.

Din leans you onto your back on the bed. Then, he helps you lay yourself comfortably on your pillow with the covers over you. His arms hold you snugly from behind, spooning you. You can't stop crying but your body melts into his, accepting the warm embrace.

"Everything's going to be okay. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to feel bad sometimes." His breath tickles the nape of your neck. He starts to kiss your skin as he speaks soft words of affirmation to you, "it's okay to want to get better on your own and it's okay to want help along the way. It's okay to want me to be there for you. There's nothing wrong with having desires. You're allowed to want good things for yourself."

"But I don't know how to appreciate them." You stifle another sob. "I can't get anything to go right, even if I want them to…"

You clutch onto his arms, needing some kind of support, and he's there to hold you steady. Then, Din goes, "isn't it enough that you want things to get better? Why do they have to be "right"? Why can't we just go moment to moment and let things happen as they're meant to happen?"

"But what if they go badly?" You deflate a little, thinking of all the things that could go wrong if you keep letting Din get closer to you.

"What if they don't?" He pulls you onto your back so that you can look up at him as he says, "do you trust me?"

"I do." Of course you do. He wouldn't be this close to you if you didn't.

"I trust you too." Din takes your hand and pulls it to his cheek. You gently caress his jaw, feeling that patchy stubble of his that you like all too much.

"Do you really?" You meet his gaze. "I worry about that. You've let me see you twice now. Won't the Mandalorians shun you?"

"I used to think I should hide myself from everyone but then I realize there are some people that are worth sharing myself with." He leans down and brushes his nose against yours. "I gave you all of me back then and I'm asking you right now to let me see all of you. The good, the bad, everything. I want to get to know every side of you."

"It's not pretty." You want him to be realistic.

Depression isn't something to romanticize. It's brutal and numbing. It makes the little things difficult and the bigger things even more impossible. It's hard to live with, but you try everyday to make it to the next.

Is that truly enough?

"It's not supposed to be pretty and I wouldn't want it to be. You don't have to be beautiful all the time. Don't put that kind of pressure on yourself." His eyes are so kind, staring back at yours. "It's okay to have bad days, as long as you're looking forward to the good ones that will be there when you're ready. It'll always get better and that's what matters."

You reach up with your other hand so you can cup his face with both of yours. He's really here, telling you all these wonderful words that you've been needing to hear.

Din's right. Things do get better. Even if it doesn't feel like they will sometimes, they do once you've made it past the hurdle.

You just need to get there.

"Can I lean on you for tonight?" You take the leap and ask for help for once. "I don't want to be alone."

"Of course." Din presses a kiss on your forehead before asking, "how do you want me?"

"Will you face me so I can look at you until I fall asleep? If that's okay…" You still don't know how comfortable he is with you seeing him like this so you want to make sure.

"Come here." He lays back down on his side, opening his arms. "Lean on me."

You nod and huddle closer, letting him wrap his arms around you as you bury your face into his warm chest. He tucks the covers around the both of you securely and you share a pillow with him. His face is so close to yours that you can feel every breath he exhales against your lips.

"Can I kiss you good night?" It's nice of him to ask because a few moments ago, you would've said no but right now, all you want to do is feel his lips on yours.

"Yes, please." You muster up a gentle smile.

Din closes the gap between your lips and kisses you for just a moment. It's perfect. You don't need more than that to feel warmth surging through you.

You're comfortable like this.

"Good night." He tells you quietly. "I'm here if you need me, so don't be afraid to sleep."

"Thank you, Din." You settle yourself back against his chest, breathing in deeply, relaxing yourself in his embrace. "Good night."

Sleep finds you eventually in the calm, quiet night. For once, you feel safe enough to sleep because you know you'll be okay when you wake up.

❈❈❈❈❈❈

It's warm for once. When was the last time it was ever this pleasantly warm? It's not hot, not like when you wake up with a hot flash, screaming from some kind of traumatic memory resurging in your dreams.

No, this is comfort. This is the kind of warmth that you'd crave even on the hottest of days and the kind of warmth that you're desperate for on the coldest of nights.

You wake up slowly to the feeling of Din gently trailing his fingers along your arm. He's looking at you with a soft smile on his face and your heart flutters at the sight until you realize you've been asleep this whole time.

Has he been waiting for you? How long has he been up?

You feel a wave of panic rush through you that he immediately suppresses by saying, "I just woke up too. Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with sleeping a little more than me."

"Sorry." You feel so bad that he can just tell how worked up you could get suddenly.

"What are you sorry about?" He wonders and there's this kindness in his voice that's not condescending in the slightest, like he genuinely wants to know why you're closing up.

"I've been…told before that I sleep too much or that I stay in bed too long and I just–" You hold in a sigh but it slips anyways. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to think that you'd be anything like that but I don't know how else to think sometimes…"

"That makes sense." He pats your head, trying to soothe you with his actions and his words, "if you've never had anyone tell you otherwise, then you expect that to be what's normal. That's understandable, it'll take time but you'll open up to other possibilities. There's no rush."

"You're so patient." You comment out of nowhere and he chuckles, messing your hair up a bit.

"I guess I learned from the best." Is he talking about you?

"What do you mean?" You look up at him, curious.

"You've always been patient with me." He details all the times you've helped him. "I barge into your house, steal your booze, vent my problems to you and you always sit there and listen without judgment. You even go beyond that and take care of me. Watching the number of drinks I have. Making sure I have water. Lugging me into bed if I need help. You're more than patient, so why wouldn't you deserve the same?"

"I do that because you're my friend." You say that as if it's one-sided and he catches it in your tone.

"Do you not think you're my friend?" He asks and you feel backed into a corner.

The truth is, you don't. You don't think Din is really friends with you. You just think you're convenient. You're easy. You're someone he can reach out to and then dump whenever he's tired of you.

Is it the depression talking? Probably.

You have to maintain your distance from him because there are moments, like this one right now, where you fear you will slip up and want too much from him when you're worried he's going to abandon you like everyone else.

You've never wanted someone so much before and it scares you. That's why you have always kept him at arm's length and never ask for more than you absolutely need.

You need to answer him so you say, "I don't know."

"Well, to tell you the truth, you aren't my friend." His words make you meet his eyes and he tells you, "you're much more than that to me."

"What?" You're confused at what he's trying to say.

"I know it's too soon for you, since you're still going through your own stuff but I'm telling you right now that I want to wait for you." Din cups your cheek with his hand, resting it there so he can touch you as he goes, "I'll wait until you're ready to be with me, if that's something you're okay with."

"You want to…" You're baffled. Floored. Stunned. All the words that mean shocked to the very core. You can't comprehend it.

Is he really…does he want to be in a relationship with you? Why would he want something like that?

"I want to be yours so I'll wait until you're ready to be mine." He says with the softest smile you've ever seen. You can't believe it to the point where you have to pinch his face to check if you're dreaming it up and he laughs that beautiful laugh of his in reaction to you. "Ow?"

"You're being serious." You breathe out like it's crazy talk.

"I've been serious about you for a very long time." He pinches you in the cheek.

"Ow!" You groan. Did you pinch him that hard or was he just purposefully trying to make your cheek ache?

"Sorry, you're too cute sometimes. I get carried away." He leans in, nudging you with his nose.

Sometimes, Din acts so innocent and it's just…you're worried you're holding him back. You can't be selfish, which is why you ask, "why would you wait for me? You could have anyone else, so why would you want me?"

He shrugs, saying sarcastically, "I wish I knew."

"You're an ass!" You shove him and he lets out another laugh.

Once his laughing fit subsides, he goes, "do you really want to know?"

"Yes," you reply, "why else would I ask–"

Before you can finish your sentence, Din lays you on your back, getting on top of you. The heat rises in your body all of a sudden as you feel him settle his hips between your legs. He hovers over you, showing you just how much bigger he is in comparison. Your heart is pounding out of your chest when your eyes meet his again.

"I want you because I've had a taste and now I can't live without you." He brushes his lips against your jaw, making you hold your breath to stop yourself from reacting to his touch. "I've fallen head over heels for you. I've never loved someone like I love you."

"You're joking." You don't believe him and he smiles against your cheek, kissing you there.

The butterflies in your stomach are going crazy but you don't want him to move away. You like that he's close to you. You want him here, even if your mind is screaming over it.

"I would never let someone I didn't love see my face." He confesses to you and you swallow, not knowing how to react to that.

"That was a risk, wasn't it? What if I didn't feel the same?" You can't imagine the leap of faith he had to take to put his face out there for you to see like this.

"Does that mean you do?" He smirks and you chew on your lip, feeling exposed. "You don't have to say anything. I'm fine with this being one-sided, as long as I can get the chance to seduce you."

"Excuse me?" You raise your eyebrow at him and he gets closer to you, his lips right up against yours.

You feel every word he says against your lips, "you heard me. I'm going to seduce you into falling in love with me. So, will you let me or not?"

"H-how would I let you?" You have no fucking idea what he's on about. He's literally causing your mind to swirl uncontrollably, like you're running a marathon in your own head.

"All you have to do is lay here and stop thinking so much. Just enjoy yourself. Enjoy me helping you enjoy yourself." His hands slip beneath the shirt you're wearing and your breath hikes all of a sudden.

You haven't felt his hands on your body in so long and yet it feels like it was just yesterday that he touched you for the first time.

With every loving caress, he breathes out a command that makes your whole body tingle.

"Listen to me."

"Lose yourself in me."

"Pay attention to me."

"Let me make you mine."

When did he learn to speak in such a low, seductive tone?

You're going crazy over him…

"Din–"

He cuts you off, his lips brushing against yours. "I love the way you say my name, especially when you–"

You cut him off, screaming, "don't remind me!"

"What? Did it not feel good when you came so hard over the comm link?" He acts as if he didn't hear the entire exchange.

Of course it felt good! You haven't came that hard since…

"You're getting on my nerves." You glare at him. "Don't tease me!"

"But I like teasing you." His hands slide from your sides to your breasts, holding them firmly in his hands. Then, he drags his thumbs over your nipples and you moan out of nowhere, biting your lip to stop yourself from doing it again. "I think you like it too."

"You're annoying." You let out with a huff. "If this is you seducing me, you're doing a terrible job."

"Aww, is it because you want more already?" He taunts you and in retaliation, you lean up to bite his lip, dragging your teeth along it.

"You're the one who wants more." You call out the way he's staring at your lips afterwards.

"I do." He suddenly grinds his hips against yours and you nearly don't hold back your voice in time. "At least I'm not afraid to admit it. Have you always been bad at being honest? You wouldn't tell me you were touching yourself to my voice."

"Because I wasn't!" You exclaim.

"Sure you weren't." He rolls his eyes at you, obviously not believing you.

"I wasn't!" You repeat yourself and then try to explain, "I didn't until you–"

Wait, why are you arguing with him!

"Until I what?" He catches your slip.

"Until you told me to!" You shout back, your face getting warmer and warmer by the second. You can't believe you had to tell him that!

"Who knew you were such a good listener? I guess that suits you, since you came so hard to the sound of my–"

You shove your hands in his face, trying to shut him up. "You're seriously the worst!"

You feel him laugh against your palms before one of his hands slips out from beneath your shirt and snatches your wrists. Your eyes widen as Din pins them above your head.

Then, he leans in to whisper against your ear, "if I'm so terrible, why do you want me to touch you right now?"

His other hand slides between your legs, grazing your inner thighs. You swallow, expecting him to start touching you but he doesn't. He gets close, but then pulls away the moment he's right where you want him, making you squirm.

"Look at you, desperate for something you refuse to admit. Would it be better if I just told you to say it? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." He demands with that newfound dominating tone of his and you shiver, liking it way more than you thought possible. "Show me how good of a listener you really are."

"Just touch me already." You can't handle it anymore.

"Address me correctly and I will." Oh, he's really pushing you now.

"Touch me, sir." You emphasize and you've never seen such a devilish grin before, plastering itself on his face.

"You can be more polite than that." He drags his finger along your folds but way too lightly for you to actually feel anything and you fight against his hold over your wrists but he's much stronger than you. "Quit wriggling and ask me nicely."

It's so hard not to listen to him when he's being so demanding. There's such a thrill to the way he's holding you captive with his voice and his body. You want to let him take you, so you do.

"Please touch me, sir." You give in completely and he rewards you by thrusting two fingers inside of you, making you gasp.

"Now, if I remember correctly, you liked it quite a lot when I did this–" He curls his fingers at the same time as he presses his palm against your clit, rubbing both pressure points at the same time, causing you to shake. "Ah, there it is. Am I in the right place?"

"Yes, sir." You don't want him to stop for any reason, not when you're already on edge. "Please keep going."

"Should I?" He stops all of a sudden, pulling his hand away from you, and you let out a whine, feeling betrayed. "But I thought I was the worst?"

"You're not the worst." You're on the verge of tears from the sudden denial. "I didn't mean that. That's not how I really feel."

"Then, how do you really feel?" His eyes grab your attention and they're so soft and inviting.

That's why you don't hold back.

You meet his gaze with your own, confessing everything you should've a long time ago, "I want you to be mine. I have since the night we spent together, but I was scared. I knew I was your first and I didn't want to take advantage of you. That's why I never said anything. You deserve to experience more than just me. I'm…"

You look away from him for a moment, trying not to self-deprecate. You want to. You really do. You want to tell him that you're not worth this kind of affection. You want to but you can't for some reason. Not when he's looking at you like you're breaking his heart by being so harsh on yourself.

"I'm already yours." Din states firmly, his eyes shifting from soft to fiery as he pulls you back to look at him. "So, stop worrying about whether or not you deserve my love. Listen to me, like the good listener I know you are. Let me love you. Don't hold me back anymore."

"Have I been holding you back?" You don't know why you ask but you can't imagine that he's been stopping himself for your sake.

"I am at my fucking limit." He tells you and you feel the heat flushing your cheeks. "When you called me and all I could hear were those raspy breaths of yours that you were trying to hide, I wanted to leave that gunfight right then and there so I could be the reason you were out of breath. That's how much I want you."

The desire that's radiating off of him, you could almost taste it. Though, that's probably just you craving something else entirely.

Din wants you that much, so why do you keep letting your fears hold you back? Why can't you just give into him like you know you want to?

"Promise me you won't leave afterwards." You wear your heart out on your sleeve. "I don't want to do this if I'm going to be waking up alone after. I want you to stay, Din."

He gives you such a warm smile as he goes, "I never want to leave if you're letting me stay."

"Do you mean that?" You need reassurance.

"I do." He says firmly before kissing your forehead. Then, he switches back to that dominating tone of voice, "now, will you please let me make you come already?"

You let out a laugh because it reminds you of how eager he was for your orgasm over the comm link. So, you decide to tease him this time, "someone really likes giving me orgasms."

"I love making you feel good." His hand is back between your legs and you can't say you aren't grateful for it. "You're so cute when you're high off your orgasms."

"You're really irritating in bed." You comment and he laughs loudly in response.

"You won't be saying that anymore once I start doing this." His fingers slide back inside of you and your back arches at how good it feels. "See what I mean?"

"I thought you were the impatient one." You point out how he's obviously stalling.

"You're right. How rude of me." He starts to curl his fingers again, palming your clit just the way you like to be touched. "Am I doing it right?"

"Yes." You're surprised he still remembers what to do. Has Din been thinking about it?

"You can be a little more enthusiastic." He stops when he says that and you whine, gritting your teeth.

"Would you please stop doing that!" You cry out and he chuckles at your dismay.

"Sorry." He smirks, because he knows he isn't actually sorry. "I just really enjoy seeing the kind of hold I have over you."

"You have the worst hold over me." You tell him, trying to worm your way out of his tight grip to no avail. When you finally give up on your struggle, you confess to him, "I can't stop thinking about you, Din. I want you so badly."

"Tell me more." He starts moving his fingers and you get his game now.

"I want you to keep touching me, please." You outline your desires for him to hear. "I want more than this. I want all of you."

You bite back a whimper as he rubs up against that spot inside of you that drives you insane. When you feel his palm press down on your clit at the same time, you squirm a little more, feeling the tension in your body build too quickly. You feel like you're going to explode from all the edging.

"That wasn't so hard to admit, was it?" His breath tickles your face. "Now, will you come while I kiss you?"

"Yes." You tell him but then he stops again and you wish you could punch him in the face for the constant delay!

"Yes, what?" His voice is low and he's drawing you in with how sultry he's being. "You know what to say if you want it."

You hate that he's doing this to you but at the same time, it makes your heart pound immensely so you let the words spill out of your mouth, "yes, sir. I'll come while you kiss me."

"Such a good listener." He leans in then, his fingers curling back inside of you as his teeth grab a hold of your bottom lip, biting it lightly like you had earlier. "I love the need in your eyes."

"Please shut up and kiss me already." You say out of pure desperation, not being able to stand it anymore.

Din smiles warmly at you before he finally kisses you and you're practically grinding on his hand because you just need this release. He's kept you on the very edge for way too long.

You want him to have his fun but not at your expense!

"You're so mean to me." You breathe out all raspy when his lips part from yours for a moment.

"Don't pretend like you don't enjoy it." His hot breath tickles your lips quite nicely with every word. "Now, are you going to come or do I have to wait again?"

"You're the one making me wait!" If you weren't so close to your orgasm, you'd for sure headbutt him right now.

His eyes shift down to look at his hand between your legs and he goes, "oh, that's right. I should probably do something about that…"

You frown at him. "Stop bullying me and just make me come already, please."

Your words motivate him to actually touch you correctly and you moan at the feeling, grateful that he's finally giving you what you want.

"Faster." You say to him and he listens, thrusting his fingers more, hitting that spot you love so much. "Yes, just like that, don't stop. I'm begging you."

"Say my name when you come, okay?" He instructs and you nod profusely because you're already close.

You don't just say his name once, you keep saying his name over and over again because when your orgasm hits, you're an absolute mess. You can't stop convulsing from the intensity and he only makes it more pronounced by continuing a steady rhythm with his fingers. You bathe in the high of how wonderful it feels to finally get that release and he seems to enjoy it a lot too.

"This is the most beautiful sight in the whole universe." Din whispers to you, kissing your flushed cheeks as he pulls his hands away from you, freeing you from his hold. "I love the way you look like this."

You watch him as he licks his wet fingers, tasting you. You can barely think straight, your head spinning from how hard you came. That's probably why you don't notice him sliding down your body and hooking his arms around your legs.

It isn't until his tongue is on you directly that you go, "w-wait."

He stops because you tell him to and you take a moment to catch your breath. You need a second or else you're going to lose yourself in how good it feels and that's something that worries you.

You don't want to get used to feeling good…

"I'll wait as long as you want me to, but I really don't want to stop." Din starts massaging your skin lightly, pressing his fingertips into your thighs. "Will you let me keep going?"

"You're too focused on me." You don't think through your words before saying them. "I-It's not supposed to always be like when we did it the first time. You don't have to do any more for me."

He tilts his head to the side, confused. "Are you saying you aren't supposed to come multiple times?"

"That's not what I mean!" Ugh, what the fuck are you saying right now?

Are you really this afraid of feeling good?

It might just be better to be honest so you let out with a sigh, "I'm just anxious that you'll feel like you have to do this for me every time. You don't have to."

"Is it hard to believe that I want to?"

You sigh again. "I don't know. A little?"

"Why did you let me before?" Din refers back to the first time and honestly, you don't really know why it was so easy then. Maybe because you knew it was his first time so you wanted to let him do whatever and you weren't really thinking about your own pleasure. You were just a vessel for his exploration.

"I wanted you to be able to try anything since it was your first time. I wasn't really thinking about myself. I guess now that I am, it's…harder?" You aren't making much sense and you curse at yourself. "Fuck, I'm being ridiculous, I'm sorry. I just–"

A part of you is screaming to shut the fuck up and not shove more problems of yours down Din's throat but when he looks at you like he actually wants to hear what's wrong, it feels even more wrong not to open up.

That's why you explain the anxiety you've been harboring, "I've been with people who have told me that I ask for too much and that I should just be happy to get what I've got. They've said things like "oh, you're lucky you can even came once" and "why are you being so needy for more" so…I don't want to come off that way to you. I don't want you to think poorly of me, like I'm desperate to be held and touched and loved. I'm fine without it. I really am."

Though, now that you've said the words aloud, you realize how…forced it sounds. You have to be strong. When you aren't, people find ways to break you down. You need to prevent that from happening which is why you close up like this.

"Just because you're fine without it doesn't mean you can't also want it too." He sounds like he's speaking in a whole different tongue when he says, "you have every right to want what you want and if anyone decides against giving you that, that's not your fault for wanting it in the first place. You shouldn't want less just because someone else doesn't want to give more. It's not fair to you to limit yourself like that."

Are you limiting yourself? You are constantly living in fear that you'll be too much, that you'll drive someone away if you're not exactly who they want you to be.

That's really not a way to live, is it?

"How do I stop thinking like this?" You ask, hoping he has the answer.

He doesn't have an answer. Instead, he has a command, "from here on out, just let things happen. Stop trying to prevent things that haven't even happened yet. Stop worrying about things that might not ever come to fruition. Stop stalling and let me go down on you, please."

You laugh because you realize you've both been having this conversation with Din's face between your legs. He brushes his hair back a little, letting you see the way the curls lay softly on his head. You're eager to mess it up, to get your hand in there.

Is it okay to do that? Is it really okay to just…not worry for a moment?

Or ever?

Can you go with the flow for right now?

You want to try, so you say, "fine, as long as you know you don't need to. You can do it if you really want to. I don't ever want to force you to do anything for me."

"And here I am, wishing you'd force me to do more." He chuckles and you roll your eyes at him.

"You shouldn't say those kinds of things, Din." You lightly scold him because you don't want anyone to ever take advantage of his warmth. "No one should ever force you to do anything."

"You're sweeter than you like to admit." He tells you before you feel his tongue against you again, stealing your breath away. "In more ways than one."

"You are such a bad flirt." You say with an amused smile, your hand finding its way into his hair.

"I'm learning." He uses his inexperience as an excuse and you chuckle at how cute he is. "I think I'm doing a pretty good job seducing you though."

"Yeah? You think so?" You wonder where he got that thought from.

"Why else would you be so ready for me to keep going?" He taps the hand you have in his hair and you feel the heat rush through your body again in response. "Pull on my hair when I'm doing something right. I need practice, after all."

Practice. That's what he's calling this. Even though he remembers exactly how to use his tongue to make you lay back and tug at his hair.

You can't help asking, "do you think about it? The other time we've done this?"

He stops for a moment to answer, "I do. Why?"

"You seem to remember a lot." You note and you feel him smile against your inner thigh.

"I think you're the one forgetting how much time I spent figuring out all the ways I could make you come." He calls you out and you realize…that's…actually true.

Din did spend an awfully long time paying very close attention to you. You didn't think much of it. Though, that most likely was because you were so out of it from all the orgasms, you didn't notice how much time had passed.

"I wish I could see you like that again." He remarks.

You raise your eyebrow at him. "Like what?"

"You were in such a daze from how good it felt that you were just telling me what to do after a while and every time I listened, you had this happy look on your face. It was so peaceful, full of delight."

You can't believe what he's saying. Did you really boss him around like that? You must've been seriously out of your mind.

"I want to see you like that again, so don't bother me anymore. I'm busy." His words make you scoff as he gets back to what he was doing before.

You find yourself closing your eyes, focusing on the way it feels to have him back between your legs. It's like your body remembers how he could make you feel. His tongue glides along with such precision, swirling around your clit at just the right times before dipping away inside of you.

Once you've came from that, Din adds his fingers into the mix, filling you up like he had earlier. Your grip in his hair only gets tighter as your hips start to grind against his face. You shouldn't, but you stop thinking like that.

For once, you let yourself enjoy life a little. You can't keep avoiding pleasure because you're afraid of the aftermath. You'll be okay.

You allow yourself to unravel at his touch again and then you poke at him to stop for a moment, so you can get the reassurance you desire to quell the thoughts pummeling your mind.

"Tell me everything's going to be okay." You ask Din because you need to hear it from him. "Tell me it's okay to drown in you right now."

"Listen to me carefully." He instructs and you're all ears. "Everything's going to be okay. I want you to drown in me, in us. Let's feel good together, okay?"

"Okay." You nod so he shifts to lay beside you once again.

"How do you want me?" Din wants you to pick and your eyes shift downwards, seeing how hard he is through his pants.

There's one way you want him so you answer, "in my mouth."

"Oh." He's taken back by what you said. "Well, in that case, why don't we do it at the same time?"

"But you were just–"

"So?" He interjects before you can argue with him. "I still want more."

You don't have the energy to talk back because you'll need to save your strength to go down on him so you tell him, "just hurry up and lay on your back."

"How about you hurry up and sit on my face?" He smirks and you shove him onto his back.

"Alright." You smirk back and he looks so happy that you're being more playful now.

"Such a good listener." He coos at you mockingly and you shut him up by straddling his face.

"Stop talking and focus on making me come again." You demand and he's very willing to listen.

You regret it slightly because now his lips are wrapped around your clit, sucking on it lightly while you're supposed to be pulling him out of his pants. He's definitely distracting but you push through, getting his cock out.

Is he…bigger than you remember? Your thoughts of that night are fairly hazy but you remember going down on him. He was really shy about it but that doesn't seem like the case anymore.

When did he gain the type of confidence to go, "are you going to put my cock in your mouth or are you just going to stare at it?"

"When did you get so pushy?" You say right before dragging your tongue along the length of his cock, trying to remember the feeling of him in your mouth.

"I've discovered that you like being bossed around." He notes as he slips his fingers inside of you, your legs wobbling a little in response. You have to hold yourself up but fuck, he's not making it easy.

"When did you discover that you liked being in control?" You wonder what triggered that shift in him.

"Probably when you called me "sir". I quite liked that." You can hear the smile in his voice and you smile too.

In a weird way, you like how comfortable you and Din are. Normally sex is very dry and there isn't much banter or lighthearted moments. It's nice to be able to talk like this, even when you're about to be stuffing his cock down your throat.

"Tell me what you want me to do then, sir." You push his buttons a little and you suddenly feel his hand on your head.

"Wrap your lips around my cock." He commands and you listen without hesitation. "What a good listener you are. Now, don't gag."

You're caught off guard when he grabs a fistful of your hair and shoves you right down onto him, filling your mouth up with his cock. It hits the back of your throat almost immediately and you try not to choke on it.

Thankfully, Din pulls you up for air and asks rather sweetly, "are you alright? I didn't mean to be too aggressive."

"I'm great." You say as you lick the saliva dripping off your lips. "I liked that a lot."

"Really? Can I do it again?" You like how excited he sounds.

"Only if I get to look at you while you do." You really want to see his reactions.

"Then you better flip around and sit on my face properly first." He tugs at your legs, urging you to hurry up.

You quickly get off him and readjust until you've got quite the view of Din's face right below you. Your hands immediately grab a hold of your bed frame because he does not waste any time. His tongue goes straight for your clit before you can even process the sight of him between your legs like this. You tremble at the feeling of him flicking it back and forth with the tip of his tongue.

"You're moving too much." Din grips his hands against your thighs, squeezing them to steady you. "Be a good listener and stay fucking still."

"I'm going to come too quickly if you do that." You can already tell you're going to burst if he keeps up that pace.

"You shouldn't have told me that. Now, I only want to do it more." He goes right back to paying close attention to your clit.

You've grown much too sensitive from the orgasms earlier that you're practically clawing at your bed frame to keep yourself from completely going insane. It doesn't help that you enjoy the way his fingers are pressing so harshly into the flesh of your thighs to hold you in place for him to ravage you. You like feeling how strong he is.

"Fuck," you let out with a whimper, "I can't keep it in anymore. It's too much."

You lean forward, resting your forehead against the back of your hands. It doesn't take much longer for you to orgasm, your body quivering from the rough treatment of his tongue. You're hit with such a rush, flooding your mind with stars. The only thing you can really parse out is the sound of Din licking up your orgasm like he's making sure to taste every bit of it.

"I could do that all day." He says before kissing your thighs gently. "Was it good?"

"So good." You breathe out all airy. "You make me feel amazing, Din."

You need a moment to rest so you roll over onto your back, taking in sharp inhales to slow your rapid heartbeat. Din takes the opportunity to get on top of you and soon enough, his lips are on yours. You welcome it, lacing your fingers into his hair, pulling him in closer.

His hard cock rubs up against you as you both kiss and you moan against his lips at the feeling, still sensitive from having just came. He likes the sound you make because he goes, "I love it when you do that. I want to fuck you while we kiss, just like this."

"You can." You offer, your hand slipping down to stroke his cock teasingly for a moment.

"Let me grab some protection then." Din leans over to your bedside drawer but you stop him, taking a hold of his wrist. He looks down at your hand and asks, "what's wrong?"

"I don't have any. We went through it all last time and I haven't gotten anymore."

Plus, you really don't want him to see all the snacks you've stuffed in there to fill the void of your lack of protection…

"Oh fuck." He seems panicked all of a sudden. "I don't want to pressure you. It's unsafe."

"It's okay, Din." You explain so he doesn't worry, "I'll be okay, I have an implant, it's perfectly safe."

"Are you sure? I can go out and get some." His words make you laugh.

"A Mandalorian buying protection? Now that's a sight I'd pay to see." You like how much he cares. It's so sweet and adorable.

"Are you making fun of me?" He glares at you.

"I am." You don't even hide it. "What are you going to do about it?"

"You're just asking to get fucked, aren't you?" He flips into that more dominant tone and you shiver in excitement. "Do you want me to fuck you raw, like an animal?"

"It looks like you're the one who wants it." You point down to his throbbing cock pressed right up against your entrance.

"Give me a clear answer and remember to address me properly." He demands, his eyes staring directly into yours. "Do you want me to fuck you raw, yes or no?"

"Yes, sir." You bite your lip in anticipation.

You've wanted this since the last time and it's actually happening now. You're going to feel all of him, as clear as day.

Din slips the tip inside of you for a moment, only to pull out before he gets any deeper, making you whine. He knows what he's doing. He wants you on edge. He wants you to beg for it.

"You need to get better at telling me exactly what you want." He rubs his cock between your folds, the wet sounds filling the air.

"Please fuck me." You're growing more desperate by the second.

"How?" He wants your guidance, like the last time. You had shown him several different ways, from gentle to rough.

He's letting you choose so you go, "slow but I want you hitting deep inside of me with every stroke."

Din smiles at you, liking your answer. "I'll be a good listener, just like you."

You roll your eyes at him for making such a lame joke but then you can't help smiling back at him, saying, "thank you for answering my call yesterday. You really are a good listener."

"Anytime." His hand reaches out, caressing your cheek before pinching it, pulling a groan out of you. He chuckles then tells you, "now, quit distracting me. I'd very much like to continue."

"You're the one making me wait!" You pout and he immediately steals a kiss on your lips. You grin rather giddily in response. It's nice being casually kissed by him.

"You're so fucking cute when you're happy." Din grabs a hold of your face with his hands, deepening the kiss.

You take the initiative because he's obviously going to keep stalling, so you sneak your hand back down and guide him back to your entrance, adjusting until you can slide him inside of you. All the while, his tongue is wrapped around yours and that combined with him slowly inching deeper inside of you is absolute bliss. Your hands move back into his hair, playing with it between your fingers as you both get closer and closer together.

You tug at his curls when he's all the way in, pressing right up where you want him to be. He thinks that's a sign to part from your lips so he asks with a heavy breath, "do you want me to stop kissing you?"

You shake your head. "I want you to start moving."

"Are you that eager to come on my cock?" He toys with you a little and you're this close to smacking him.

Instead, you let out in a sickeningly sweet tone, "yes, sir. I'm so eager to come on your cock."

"Someone's being bad." The disapproval is written in his stare.

You pretend like you have no clue what he's talking about. "I'm being serious, I'm so needy for you."

Din suddenly pounds into you and you flinch at the feeling of him hitting you so deep with such force. "Whoops, didn't mean to do that."

"You're such a liar." You call him out and he acts as aloof as you were.

"If I'm a liar, what does that make you?" He thrusts into you roughly again after he says that, forcing you to grip the sheets to hold yourself steady. "Why do you look so distressed? I thought you wanted to come on my cock."

"I said I wanted you to go slow." You remind him of what you said.

"You did say that, but I'm pretty sure you were lying because I remember how easily you came when I just kept doing this–" He starts fucking you hard with long, thorough strokes that slam into you all too much, all too quickly and you're whimpering uncontrollably, trying to stop yourself from coming all of a sudden but he's really dragging you to the edge.

"Din, you're going too fast." You can't possibly hold onto the sheets anymore than you're already clawing at them. "I can't–I can't handle it, please–"

"Use your words." He doesn't stop ramming into you as he says, "what do you want me to do?"

You're losing it. You can't think straight. You're way too close. You forgot how big he was and how easily he could rub every sensitive spot buried inside of you with every demanding thrust.

Your eyes roll back when you tell him, "angle yourself upwards just a little more and don't stop fucking me, please."

Din listens to exactly what you want, shifting slightly to accommodate your request. You come almost immediately after that. It's indescribable, how perfect his strokes are. He really does remember what you like because he keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm, knowing you'll easily come again if he does.

"Kiss me." You release your hands from the sheets to grab a hold of his face, pulling him towards you.

Your lips collide with his and he kisses you back right away. The kisses are sloppy because you're high out of your mind from how good it feels but his smile against your lips makes you love it even more.

"You're so tight around me." He sighs against your lips. "I'm going to come soon. Should I pull out?"

"Don't you fucking dare." You're a bit too greedy now, unable to hold it in.

Din laughs that lovely chuckle of his and goes, "you're so beautiful when you're honest."

If that's true, then maybe it's okay to say, "you make me feel so good. I never want this to end."

"Don't worry, this is just the beginning. You aren't the only one who gets to come more than once tonight." He makes that promise and you couldn't be more excited to feel him finish inside of you over and over again.

You pull him in and kiss him like you've wanted to. You spill your desire for him out in every movement, every plea, every orgasm and Din happily goes along with you, enjoying every second of your shared time together.

It isn't until you're on the brink of passing out from how lightheaded you are from all the orgasms that you and Din decide to take a break to refuel a bit. You both share a nice shower and then you tell him about how you've stuffed all the snacks you have in your bedside drawers, a fact that he finds rather endearing.

"That's very convenient." He catches the bag of vegetable crisps you throw at him with ease.

You settle back beside him after grabbing some water and he pulls you closer so you're resting your head against his shoulder as you both sit up in your bed, sharing snacks. It's not all that surprising, but Din hasn't ever tried any of them before so you take the time to open everything you have so he can taste test everything.

"I didn't even know this many snacks exist in the galaxy." He picks randomly at the pile of assorted bags and boxes you have laying out on the bed.

"This is barely the tip of the iceberg. If you want, I can get some other ones for you to try next time." You will have to restock anyways.

"I'd like that." He turns to you and gives you a light peck on the cheek. You feel the heat rise to your face as he says, "I like trying new things with you."

"I like it too." You quickly kiss him on the lips before turning away, your heart racing at a million miles a second. "I've always wanted to do that."

"What else have you always wanted to do?" Din's hand grabs your chin, making you face him, his eyes staring back at you with that intense desire once again.

You lean in and whisper as seductively as you can, "I've always wanted to fuck on a pile of snacks."

You let out a big laugh at your own joke and he shakes his head at you, but a smile forms on his face. "I like this side of you. You seem more comfortable now."

"You make it easy to be comfortable." You lay your head back on his shoulder and he puts his arm around you, hugging you lightly like this. "Thank you for everything you've done for me."

"Sounds like I've successfully seduced you." He smirks rather proudly.

"You're going to need a lot more practice before you get anywhere close to seducing me." You challenge him and he perks up at the proposition.

"Does that mean we can get back to it or should I move the snacks out of the way first?" He playfully asks and you love how easily he makes you smile now.

"You know…there is a guest room." You make an excuse to avoid cleaning up all the snacks.

"Then, how about you go get comfy over there and I'll meet you once I've cleaned up for us?" He nudges you to get up but you feel bad that he's offering to put everything away for you.

"No, it's okay, I got it." You reach for the stuff closest to you but he grabs your wrist before you can take it.

"I said, go wait for me in the guest room." His voice shifts back to that demanding tone. "I want you to relax. I've got it handled, alright?"

You want to protest but…you need to learn that it's okay to let someone help. That's what you wanted. Din is willing to take care of you so you need to let him.

So, you give him a soft smile and then say, "yes, sir."

"I knew you were a good listener." He tells you with a gentle pat on the head. "I'll be sure to fuck you extra well as a reward."

You roll your eyes at him, shoving him before getting up to leave. "You're seriously a terrible flirt."

"And you love it!" He shouts at you as you make your exit and you shake your head at his words.

He's right though.

You really do love it.

Maybe Din has seduced you into falling in love with him…though, he wouldn't even need to. You're already his and you couldn't be happier about that.

A/N: Yay, a cute fluff/comfort oneshot! I've always wanted to write a more playful Din so I experimented with that in this one. I very much enjoy smut that's filled with banter and just overall relaxing vibes because sex doesn't always have to be hot and heavy. Sometimes it's just nice to joke around and have a good time so please let me know if you enjoyed the read! ~ ♡

If you want to read more of my work, be sure to check out my other oneshots, I’ll Take Care of You, Let Me Help You & A Simple White Lie and/or my series, What Color Am I? & Lesson Learned

[grapenehifics]

💖👀🥰 please!

For this ask game!

💖 What made you start writing?

Reading fics and watching Clone Wars. I was perfectly content to just keep reading other people's fics into perpetuity until I got an idea of my own (while watching Clone Wars) that wouldn't leave me alone, and I thought, this is going to be too much work to write (and I was right; it totally was too much work; I don't know what I was thinking) so it'll just live in my head.

Then I started to think about the fics I was reading and enjoying, and what if those authors had said 'I'm not going to bother writing this down/sharing this' - then I wouldn't get to read all these great fics! And I started feeling kind of guilty for reading and not sharing (which isn't true; there's plenty of benefit to being a reader and not a writer *especially* if you're leaving comments but that wasn't how I was framing it at the time), and also it was early lockdown at that point and I was working from home and I had the time to fiddle around with it, and the more I wrote out an outline and started drafting the more fun I started having, and it was addicting so I kept going and then I started a second fic and thus both Solsbury Hill and An Uncivil War happened.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Okay! I shared a piece of The Last Waltz here, but that's my main WIP so I'm going to choose another. This is from the scene where Rex is helping Anakin get ready for the ball where he will meet Obi-Wan for the first time (cue Beauty and the Beast soundtrack here: "Here's where she meets Prince Charming! But she won't discover that it's him 'til chapter three!")

“Please tell me there’s no top hat, at least,” Anakin said as he turned to look at himself in the full-length mirror. “The tails are bad enough.”

“This event will be taking place entirely indoors, so no hat required,” Rex said calmly, standing back to admire his handiwork.

“This makes me look like I have no ass at all,” Anakin complained, and Rex tried very hard to stifle a snort.

“I’m sure that’s not true, sir.”

“Yes it is. And call me Anakin,” Anakin said firmly, turning away from the mirror. He was tired of looking at himself anyway. And besides, he already knew what he looked like in a tuxedo; he’d certainly been forced to wear one on enough occasions over the last couple of years, as if somehow his life was trying to make up for the fact that he’d spent the first sixteen in nothing more expensive than jeans from JC Penney’s. The idea of ever actually putting on a tuxedo, much less owning more than one, and all tailored specifically for him, had been about as foreign a concept to him as actually becoming a real-life James Bond would have been, and both things were about equally as unlikely.

(He even had the watch for it. Anakin’s watch, Qui-Gon had boasted proudly, was an Omega Seamaster 600M, which meant, for some reason, it would remain waterproof at depths and pressures that would destroy the rest of Anakin’s body in less time than it would take to say ‘Help! I’m drowning!’ Anakin was still unclear as to why this was a good thing.)

Speaking of watches. “Time to go, Anakin,” Rex said, and held the door open for him.

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

I adore it! I'm just slow about answering haha. But I will eventually and I do love to talk about both my and other people's fics, and writing in general. That's half the fun of it - I mean I always say I would write even if no one was reading but me, just because I enjoy it, and that is true, but sharing them and talking about them and making friends from them is a joy. We have a fun little community that I'm really, really grateful for.

Thank you for the ask!

[firstelevens]

21, 25, and uh, the snippet one whose number i just forgot. 29?

21. Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

Oh God, yeah, multiple times this year alone. I think the reason it takes so long is often the same reason that I end up having to cut it, which is that I like the idea or maybe even the execution, but it will simply NEVER get me to where I need to go in the story. Like, it's just that thing of being stalled out in a scene and looking for the problem five paragraphs back: I made something happen too quickly or I picked up the scene in the wrong place or I got carried away writing one particular part of the scene and then I just couldn't pull myself out.

I like to think that I'm getting better at catching it before I'm a thousand words deep, but I still end up here often enough that I don't think it's true.

25. Have you ever upset yourself with your own writing?

Yes! Like, I do know that they're fictional characters, but I'm invested in them and sometimes I get upset because of the things happening to them but also sometimes I just get kind of locked into a more tense scene and I can kind of feel myself getting more and more tense or frustrated as I write the scene itself?

I wrote an argument back in January and when I typed the last sentence I was breathing so hard that I had to go do a lap around my house and have a glass of water.

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

I had to hunt a little bit for something tailored to you and I couldn't find it BUT. When I wrote my FATWS/Cloak and Dagger crossover, the final chapter was supposed to be Ty and Tandy heading out for some kind of date (I think it was an anniversary dinner) and Ty spinning like a dozen plates while he got ready for that and handled things at work, and i ended up scrapping like 1200 words because they simply were not landing me where I needed to be.

Anyway under the cut is Tyrone being an upstanding young man who runs a shelter for Blip orphans but also being peak younger sibling and eavesdropping when there are other things to be done. He contains multitudes.

Cass says yes, so Ty waves over one of their college interns and tells her that Cass’s uncles will be coming by to pick him up and she should let them drop off their donations by the main office before they head out. She’s a new hire, which is probably why she furrows his eyebrows at him and asks, “But how will I recognize his uncles when they come to pick him up?” Behind her, the kids snicker. “Trust me,” Amara calls, “you’ll recognize them.” Ty gives her a look before turning back to Nicole. “Cass will point them out to you, but they’ll be happy to show ID if they need to. Sam Wilson and James Barnes.” Her eyes bug out slightly with realization and Ty tries not to laugh. “You’ve got this. I’m gonna get going, but if you need anything, Melissa and Oliver are in the office.” Nicole looks mildly overwhelmed, but nods gamely enough that Ty feels comfortable leaving her there. He checks his watch again as he heads up to the small office he shares with Tandy. She’s not at her desk, probably busy putting out a last minute fire before they head out for the evening, but she’s left him some paperwork to go over for the kids’ trip to the science museum next month.  He’s checking over the second page when he hears a car outside, rolling to the window in his desk chair to see the Wilsons’ truck pulling up to the house. The bed of the pickup is mostly loaded with bags of what looks like soil and wooden beams, but nestled in the corner are the boxes of books that Sarah said she’d send along for the kids. As Ty kicks off his sneakers to swap them out for his dress shoes, he hears the sound of a door opening and closing before Sam and Bucky’s voices drift in through the open window. “-definitely not doing zucchini; if I never see another one again, I’ll be happy. I swear someone was putting extras on that plant just to mess with me.” Ty snorts. Out on the sidewalk, Bucky drily asks, “Who needs world domination when you can take down Captain America with summer vegetables?” “All I’m saying is that we do not need to leave space in this plot or anywhere else in the garden for zucchini, not this year or for the next five.” “Noted,” Bucky says, and Ty doesn’t need to see them to know that he’s trying not to laugh. “Any strong feelings about eggplants?” It’s instinct to wrinkle his nose, but Ty tells himself that Bucky’s from the 1940s, and the meanings of various emojis were probably not high priority when they were bringing him up to speed on the modern world. He shakes his head and turns back to the paperwork, flicking to the next page as the conversation continues outside, Bucky asking if they’re late and Sam assuring him that they have another ten minutes before it’s time to pick up Cass. He’d close the window, but the room is small enough to be unbearable without fresh air, and Ty would rather not sweat through his new button down before he and Tandy even leave for dinner. He mostly tunes them out while he checks over the transport documents and the list of chaperones, but then he hears his own name. He’s braced to hear about some world ending event or another, but it turns out that it’s just Sam saying, “I know he and Tandy have their hands full here, but we should invite them up. Have everyone get to know each other when they’re not all risking their lives.” “Wait, is this why you checked out that book on team building at the library the other day?” There’s an extremely eloquent silence from Sam before he says, “Maybe.”

[vodid]

I HAVE A FEW QUESTIONS IF YOU DONT MIND—

How many words do you currently have on your next chapter of Vulnerability? If you’ve started it, of course, life can get rough sometime •~•

What inspired you to make your Vulnerability and The Obsidian King fanfictions? Personal experiences or seeing some other people doing some romantic stuff or maybe another fanfiction?

What’s the best part of writing these two stories? Developing the world, the actual characters, the romance?

What are your current favorite scenes in The Obsidian King fanfiction? Mine is when Prowl requests Jazz at that festival thing to welcome Prowl as king to play a piece that Jazz wrote himself. OH and when Prowl and Jazz stole sweets, that was really cute and adorable and omg I love them so much

Was there anything like really really big that you had to research for your two books that took awhile and maybe frustrated you a bit trying to figure out how to write that one scene or chapter?

Will you ever have a full cover design for your two fanfictions? I find it really interesting and cool when fanfiction writers put a cover at the beginning of their fanfiction as if it’s a real book! Of course if you’re never going to do that, it’s cool, I love all your fanart of them anyways and will just fan over it!

Where do you like to write? Like, in your bedroom, library, coffee shop? I personally like to write in my bedroom, all snuggled up and cozy. Except when I end up getting distracted by something in my room that takes me away from my story for a good 20 minutes or so -~-

LAST QUESTION I have so many, but a few of these are pretty big questions to answer so I’ll just send some more some other time ^-^

How does it feel knowing that people all around the world are reading your fanfictions and connecting with your story? Like, Vulnerability has 316 kudos and 4340 hits, and your Obsidian King fanfiction has 151 kudos and 1959 hits. Like- that’s a lot of people man, so how does that feel knowing you are pretty popular in terms of fanart and fanfiction writing?

WAH HELLO HSDGFHSDFS anon coming in clutch with these questions ok ok oh boy here we go. long ask, long answer \o/

currently, i'm at about 1.4k words. a big portion of that is the beginning/setup of the chapter and the rest is lots of dialogue. the average word count for the chapters seems to land above 6.5k words (ch2 was over 8k!) and since this chapter is probably going to be the most important of the entire fic, it may come out to be way more 🤔 we shall see

the obsidian king was purely because ppl kept getting curious if there was a fic, which made me think about it and it got me writing <3 it's not my proudest piece but i've had fun making it! it's an expansive universe and i'm afraid i may have bitten off more than i could chew and without the right prep, so i've lost a lot of confidence for it unfortunately

vulnerability on the other hand came after i binged the biggest blitzbee fics (such as roe, omtop, showstoppers). i told myself i probably wouldn't end up writing a fic for them but a good scene eventually occurred to me and i went with it. the more i fleshed out the setting, the more i realized how much i wanted to explore the raw concept of their ship that appears in many of their longfics. i wanted to dig into and challenge the typical "enemies in a life-or-death situation they must help each other get out of and end up in a secret relationship until blitzwing leaves the decepticons" — not because i didn't like that dynamic (are you kidding me i ADORE it) but because — copying and pasting an ao3 reply of mine — i wanted to take that and put my own huge spin to it. i wanted their growth to happen willingly and not out of necessity. a test to see, can this ship happen without a dire situation they're stuck in while staying true to their core characterizations? basically, is there a pattern to this ship for a reason or can it realistically work outside of that? it's been very fun :)

favorite thing about writing obkau is just all the idiots in love scenes. had me kicking my feet and smiling like a goof writing all that. the romance may be quick in that fic (speedrun!) but its for the shits n giggles n blushes — and on that note, my favorite scene also has to be the kitchen raid or perhaps the first time they were in the crystal gardens together :)

a lot of the research that's gone into obkau was more so for the au rather than the fic itself. things about crystals and their healing properties, names for ocs, city-states, lore doors to the lore mansion that needed a lore key to unlock, only obtainable through giant rants with my buddy mag until something clicks.

now, vulnerability is The Fic where the past 3 years of practice have been coming together and finally paying off. a lot of that practice was put into jazzprowl fics that unfortunately never made it out of my wips just yet, but they caused the many hours and days i spent studying plots, characterizations, natural and unique character dialogue, hidden details that circle back around... and that brings me to the next question: research! oh man...

i've brought up that i used suna_scribble's writing advice for reference, so i'll skip that part. that research did take me about a full month to look through and apply to my fic's plot, and i continued to develop it as time went on but it didn't particularly frustrate me. it did get tedious at times having to get certain points and details to come together but it was more of a fun challenge if anything. so along with that, in between chapters, i'd spend a couple weeks (legit hours a day straight) researching bpd for blitzwing. mounds and mounds of research. i looked at clinical sites, personal blogs of those with bpd, reddit/quora for outside (albeit very stigmatized but still important) perspectives, and admittedly, i glanced at fanfics to see how it was portrayed there (while still remaining critical of any inaccuracies). it is difficult to write an experience i've never had so figuring out that aspect probably took the most amount of effort to get through — and i'm still working on it! as the fic goes on, i hope for a better and more realistic portrayal of blitzwing's bpd, as it's pretty much become the driving force of the story and his character development

also i'm sure if anyone's been closely following my blog, they'd know i started learning german solely for the fact that i was trying to find a simple german phrase for blitzwing to say in my fic. and i now use my lil studies to sprinkle some more german into blitzwing's dialogue :)

i've thought about covers, mostly for one of the j/p wips i mentioned earlier, but not so much obkau or vulnerability. HOWEVER, i have thought of inserting illustrations into the obsidian king for certain scenes. like in between paragraphs or at the very end of a chapter. i never got around to exploring that more but with vulnerability, it could be a possibility too (i did make that comic but thats not something i'd insert in the fic itself)

i don't have many options for places to write but i've tried a good few spots. where i end up most is in the basement (basically our family room) with a bird video on for my cat. i've had a hard time writing in my bedroom and at places not my house (except back in high school, i would write ALL the time when i had the chance — if i wasn't already busy reading fic) but i once sat outside with my phone when it was drizzling and wrote out a good portion of chapter 1 for vulnerability. never been able to replicate that tho besides once bringing my laptop out on a sunny day. few times, i've done some writing in bed, typically before sleep, but most of it was reading over what i had already written and making small edits since i prefer to use my laptop for writing (felt that about the distraction tho lol guess in a way, it's easier to get distracted on my phone than my laptop)

in all honesty, those numbers pale in comparison to what my art and my old old writing back on ffn (no i am NOT showing you.) garnered (as well as other tf fics), but regardless of that, those are pretty big numbers and it will always feel weird if i think too hard about it. weird in a good way. it's easy to think of kudos and hits as just numbers but those are, in fact, people. individual people who decided to give your work a shot and drop a lil heart on it. out of the millions of things they could have possibly chosen, they chose yours.

call me humble, call me oblivious, but i really am not fully aware of my influence in the fandom. i don't know how i impact others, how many truly know me and like my work, how many find me to be cool or famous in our little corner of the world, how most even perceive me, and i certainly don't know the effects of my writing. i'm just a guy making art of stupid little gays and y'all are hitching a ride

feel free to ask more :)

[yippie-ki-yay]

Hey all! So sorry for the lack of posting fic-wise. It's been a bit of a rough week and I haven't been able to write as much as I wanted to. A lot of the stuff I had coming is WIP (reqs, the revise + chapter 2 of 'I'll Get You Yet', and a couple other things) but I managed to find this thing I wrote a while back! It's an oc fic so not everyone might be into it, but for those who do read I hope you like it! This is just the intro, possibly more to come later

“So, what does this job entail again?” 

Sharp blue eyes stared down her soon-to-be boss - they’d worked together in the past, she’d never had a problem with him and the same likely went for his attitude towards her. If that weren’t true then she wouldn’t have been called here in the first place. No matter how decent of a reputation a mercenary had regarding their work, a good rapport was always preferable when it came to more important jobs like this. Any ragtag group could rush a bandit camp or sway a fight over resources, but this particular task seemed a little more delicate than that. Knowing Doc, he had a reason for picking her specifically. Although…

Those same eyes flicked down towards the desk, looking over the two files open before her. Apparently these would be the people she’d be working with should she take the job. Frankly she was a little hesitant to accept solely because of that. It wasn’t an ego thing, she knew how crucial working in a group could be, but it was easier to rely on her own skills. That way no one else fucked you over, there was no chance of clashing with anyone else if you were the entire team. Sure, it could make things a little more difficult, but she’d pulled through bleaker scenarios and was still standing. “You know I’m not the best when it comes to working with others. Too messy.” Something akin to a chuckle left the masked man across from her. “Funny, that’s basically what both of them said when I paired them up initially.” It didn’t sound unlikely, plus he was never one to lie, but putting herself in either one’s shoes didn’t bring a picture with a happy ending. Best case scenario, they managed to get the job done with everyone alive. And the worst? Well, it wasn’t hard to picture various ways something could go wrong, but someone (if not all of them) would end up dead. “They’re reliable, Hel. Just play it cool and you’ll pull through. You all will.” For some reason that emphasis didn’t make her feel any better. Her lips pursed behind the thick red scarf pulled over the lower half of her face as she considered it. 

If it were anyone else she would’ve shot down the job entirely, but considering their history it wasn’t as easy to do that. “I… I’m unsure. Wouldn’t it be less complicated to not throw another person in the mix? If they work so well together, then-” A raised hand cut her off, whatever argument she was going to pose dying on her tongue. Even from behind those goggles he wore it was easy to feel how stern his gaze was. That was more than enough to tell her that he meant business about this. “This needs to be a fast job. While they both work well together, getting too caught up fighting whatever the agency throws at them could end up ruining the mission entirely.” Reclining in his seat, the masked man folded his hands behind his head. “That’s where you come in. You’ve got a tendency to work through things quickly, so you’ll basically be clearing the way for them. Handling the ones that are easy to pick off and any stragglers that might come after them. Easy enough, right?” He did have a point there - if it was just clearing out any trouble that might hold them up then this mission would be a cakewalk. Hel gave a curt nod in response. “That sounds acceptable.” Even if she wasn’t fully comfortable with the idea it sounded like she’d mainly be working on her own anyways. Even if it sounded a little conceited or ‘stuck up’ as some might say, doing the job herself always yielded better results. Working with others was often too messy, she left the jobs that absolutely needed multiple to those already in established groups or the ones who were too dumb to jump in with others they hardly knew. 

Something that she was kind of doing now, wasn’t she?

“You know, for someone who hides half their face, you’re surprisingly easy to read.” That comment snapped her out of it. With a sigh, Doc continued. “Look. I wouldn’t be asking this if it wasn’t serious, and I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t confident in your abilities. If you really want a motivator, just take this as the payback for that little favor I did for you a while ago.” Something in her eyes sharpened at that comment. She knew exactly what he was talking about - personally she didn’t think that a single request like this would ever repay what he’d dug up for her, but if he felt it was an adequate trade? Good enough for her. 

“Very well.” Hel stood up from the seat across from him. “I’ll meet them inside, need to scope out the place a little. Getting a head start on clearing out any trouble might not hurt, either…” She thought aloud. It could all be figured out later, though. From the looks of things she’d have a day or two to prepare. Hel picked up a copy of the briefing, skimming it over before closing the folder and tucking it under her arm. “Just don’t be too hard on them, alright? Who knows, maybe they might grow on you.” For once she smiled, just a little hint of one. The thought was an amusing one, nice even, but she highly doubted that happening. “It’ll be a cold day in Nevada when that happens, Doc.” Giving a little wave over her shoulder, Hel walked through the door and shut it behind her. Even if the whole ‘working with people you barely know’ wasn’t the most appealing thing in the world, she’d get it done. If what he said back there was true then neither of them should be a problem. She hoped not, anyways… What she hadn’t seen, though, was the spark of amusement behind those red-tinted goggles. He’d neglected to tell her that, while it hadn’t been said verbatim, had basically come out of the pair’s lips when regarding the other. At first they’d absolutely hated each other, the only reason why they hadn’t fought a handful of times was because they were too busy taking out who they were assigned to or they were too tired after the mission. Now things were different, of course, but seeing the parallels in how Hel reacted? He had a feeling that she was going to be wrong about that statement.

[seyaryminamoto]

What got you into the amazing ship that is Sokkla?

Well, gee. Ancient history lesson time! xD

There's a couple of culprits, but ultimately, the one to blame is a certain furtive and clever commissioner of art who requested this piece from the epic @saniika:

I had been on an Azula kick because well, as any Azula fan is wont to do, I was very depressed by ATLA's outcome and I wanted Azula fics to save my broken heart x'D I tested the waters with a few pairings, they weren't exactly what I was looking for... and then while scouring DeviantArt for Azula art (there are some seriously good pieces and artists there), this particular piece showed up and I was genuinely mindblown... and admittedly, perplexed. I had no idea what was going on here, and I wanted to understand it xD I could tell there was a story behind it, but I couldn't find it! And so, I started looking at more Sokkla art and found that this very sneaky commissioner had INDEED requested a LOT of art based on her fic...!

... If you want to know how that particular, personal story goes, said commissioner became one of the best friends I've ever had in my entire life xD She's not active in the fandom anymore, but I love her to pieces and we talk daily. I once even wrote a breakdown of what she planned for her story, Majesty, as I recalled it... the post's somewhere in my archive haha xD I'll try to look it up and link it later if I remember to.

Anyway! I didn't get to know that future best friend of mine right away XD but I got hooked on the concept of these two before I even had a clue of what was going on with me. A certain anime called Bleach had already taught me the joys in testing the waters of ships that appeared impossible in canon, simply by testing if characters worked well together, if their dynamics were enjoyable... and I didn't really care if Sokka and Azula weren't together in canon, I just wanted to find out if this pairing was as good as it looked, ya' know?

Then, I got cajoled by another person I knew in the fandom (... that one I'm not friends with anymore, heh... things happen) to start writing fics about ATLA, a concept I was a little bit daunted by, but the idea he gave me sounded relatively fun. I came up with the concept for my first fic, Origins of Pro-Bending, and because I wanted Azula in there, being my favorite character and all, I figured I needed an excuse to feature her in the story! And what better excuse... than to make her Sokka's girlfriend! XD

It was a spur of the moment choice, and one I was mostly making for the sake of humor + curiosity at first. I was really intrigued by the ship but I wasn't quite fully aware of its wonders yet...

... Not until I wrote chapter 2, though. That one was basically a long one-on-one chapter where Sokka and Azula had a very big, strategic discussion about what they had to do for the sake of ensuring Aang was a true master of water, earth and firebending, and damn, it started to click so well for me that I was pretty shook by realizing these two worked incredibly smoothly together.

And by the time I wrote chapter... 4? 5? The first actual kiss scene I wrote between them, as a follow-up of Sokka tickle-attacking Azula and giving her reasons to laugh? I was a goner by then. I was so sold on them I couldn't see any other possibilities anymore x'D the concept for The Reason (the lead up and explanation of how they got together, and the fic that actually ended up being the very core of that "fic verse", if I can call it that xD) arrived a little later for me, and I was so passionate about exploring the way they'd get together that I almost wanted to drop OoPB just to get to The Reason instead x'D

In the end, I went completely wild with these dorks. I had never found a burst of inspiration as powerful as the one they gave me...

And that was almost ten years ago! X'D will be ten years, exactly, in November. Completely insane, isn't it? I'm still here, still completely swept up by these two and still utterly fascinated by their relationship, their dynamics, their potential... I swear I wouldn't have been here for this long, with this much fire inside me still, if there wasn't something genuinely special in this ship. They're beautiful to me, I'm seriously grateful to be part of this community... and I'm very grateful, too, to the people who started it all for me <3 I don't want to imagine where I'd be right now if I weren't here, because frankly, I'm sure it would not be a better place than this one xD

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Restless Reveries for director's cut ask game? And feel free to ask me some- I'd love to ramble!! ~Pinestripe

Link!!

Gosh its been so long since I’ve written that I’ve gotta try to remember stuff now oh gosh-

I don’t actually remember how or why I came up with the idea for this. I started writing it in September, which was… about three months after I started writing DSMP fanfic. I think it was around the time I started getting curious about Tommy’s Exile (I didn’t know much about it then).

Gosh I’m really trying to remember but its been so long-

At the time of writing this, I hadn’t actually gotten to Exile in my DSMP watch-through, so it’s all based entirely on art/random posts/etc… which means that there are some continuity errors XD

For example, Michael and Friend are both mentioned in the story, but in reality, neither of them were even in Dream SMP at that point!! I just didn’t realize that at the time 🫠

It kinda bugs me, honestly. I try to make my stories as canon-compliant as possible, so… gah. Maybe I’ll go back and fix it someday.

Anyway! The rest of this will be incredibly random and scattered-

This was also the very first Ghostbur-centric story I wrote, and I had a lotta fun with that! He’s a very easy character to write :)

I tried to make Tommy as… un-Tommy-like as possible. To the point where it’s painfully obvious that he isn’t doing well; I really wanted to show how much Exile was affecting him.

Gosh I’m kinda wondering why I set this story in Exile because I literally had almost no clue how that arc went lol. I knew that Logstedshire was a thing but I didn’t really know what it was, so I just took a lucky guess and wrote this:

Ghostbur pulls his legs closer to himself, fighting off a shiver. "How has Dream been? Have you two gone on any more adventures together? He's quite the adventurous person, I think. Ooh, maybe you two have built more in Logstedshire? Perhaps a library? I love libraries!"

I sort of had the idea that Logstedshire was built by Tommy, but I wasn’t sure if Ghostbur had helped with that or if Dream had blown it up by this point. I think that I was tentatively leaning towards the idea that Dream had recently destroyed it, but I didn't explicitly say that because I wasn't completely sure if it was true.

SO MUCH OF THIS FIC WAS JUST ME GUESSING!!! LIKE TOMMY LIVING IN A TENT!!! AND HIS EYES LOSING THEIR BLUE COLOR!!! I DIDN’T REALLY KNOW ANY OF THAT I WAS JUST GOING OFF COOL ART I SAW!!!

I gave Ghostbur a satchel for no reason other than I find satchels cool and thought he should have one. Still headcanon that :)

Ghostbur giving Tommy Wilbur’s coat was based off of a bunch of art by a bunch of different artists. As far as I know, it has no canon… evidence I guess? But I think it’s a widely accepted headcanon and I thought it would fit the story nicely.

The title for this fic actually came pretty naturally to me—which is weird, because titles are usually the area I struggle with the most for writing.

At the time of writing this, I was really happy with it… but, as time passed, I found myself liking it less and less. I was seriously considering just not posting it at all.

I’m not sure why I lost interest, to be honest. Maybe it was the style I’d written it in?? I don’t know.

But, on a whim, I decided to just go ahead and post it… and you quickly read it and told me how much you loved it and that it was comforting and that you’d reread it over and over and SKDGSKSVAOGSOSBSIS

I WAS NOT EXPECTING THAT RESPONSE!!! PINESTRIPE IT ACTUALLY MEANT THE WORLD!!!

So because of you I started to stop not-liking it XD

Fast forward a couple months, and I’ve now got a bunch of ideas for a multi-chapter continuation—and it’s 100% because of you!!

So yeahhhh that was my extremely rambley ramble about Restless Reveries :D

For you, I’ll do A Protecter :)

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

Splataclysm! - chapter 6

Oh wow, I’m really on a writing roll today (I say, knowing this chapter has been 90% complete for like a month already and I couldn’t be bothered to finish it until today) Anyway yeah, here’s more of the Splatoon AU fic, it got kinda silly hehe

Also on AO3

Sabrina couldn’t help staring through the window in awe. The Squid Sisters themselves were in the studio, chatting to each other, only a few metres away. All that separated Sabrina from them was a panel of glass! She wished she could meet them. How inspirational were they?

But it probably wouldn’t happen. Sabrina knew she wasn’t a good singer anyway, she could never be like them. She should just focus on battling.

Turning around, she saw that Chloé was still leaning against the railing, watching Inkopolis Plaza down below them. Or rather, watching someone in particular.

“Are you still looking at Alya?” Sabrina asked. Ever since the final Splatfest, where both Alya and Chloé had chosen the same team, they had decided upon a truce to their rivalry. Now it seemed that Chloé was just fascinated with her.

“I don’t get it,” Chloé said. “Why would her friends just leave her like that? First Nino, then Marinette and Adrien… in fact, why would Adrien just leave me like that…”

“I don’t know,” Sabrina said, standing beside Chloé and looking down at Alya too, who was doing something on her phone. “Maybe Adrien’s father made him leave or something.”

“True. But now Alya’s all alone.” She shook her head. “I should have been a better friend to her much earlier on, shouldn’t I? I thought rivalry was an important thing! I thought having a rival would make me better somehow! But it didn’t. I was just stubborn.”

“Why don’t you go talk to Alya?”

“I don’t know if she’d want to talk to me.”

“But you’re not rivals anymore.”

“Still, that doesn’t mean we’re friends!”

Sabrina put a hand on Chloé’s shoulder. “You managed to make friends with me, didn’t you? So you can make friends with Alya too.”

Chloé smiled at her. “Thanks, Sabrina. You’re right. I ought to try.” She looked back down at the plaza. “Do you think I should switch weapons? I’ve been using a Splattershot for a while but I don’t know, I think I might be better off with a .52 Gal…”

“Are you doing this because Alya uses a Gal? I’m pretty sure she uses a .96 Gal, though.”

“Alright, Alya may have inspired me. But a .52 Gal is much easier to use so I’ll at least start off with that. Then Alya and I will both be using Gals.”

Sabrina chuckled a little. Chloé and Alya… would they be Gal Pals then?

Down below in the plaza, Alya wasn’t the only inkling around.

“Aw, come on Rose!” Nath said, pulling Rose towards the Lobby by the arm. “Just one Ranked Battle? Please?”

“I don’t know,” she muttered. “It’s far too competitive, I always feel like everyone’s being so aggressive–”

“But I’ve never tried it before and I don’t want to do it alone! Pretty please?” He put on his most adorable expression, hoping it would work on a sweetheart like Rose.

“Alright then,” she said, her face softening. “But just one match. I believe the current Ranked Battle mode is Splat Zones, and that’s not so bad. I’d say it’s the least aggressive out of the three.”

“Then let’s go!”

Just then the large screen in the plaza lit up, ready for another announcement. Nath and Rose stopped to watch. The Squid Sisters appeared on the screen, all dressed up in their bling as usual.

“It’s stage changeover time!” Mireille said, punching a fist up in the air. “Let’s see what the Turf War battle stages are!”

“Here they come,” Aurore muttered, looking as if she was reading lines off a telescreen somewhere.

“The first Turf War stage is… Arowana Mall! Hey Aurore, remember that time we went to that café here and bought seven helpings of ice cream?”

“I remember you spilling at least two of them on the floor,” Aurore replied, her expression unchanged.

“Ahem, yes… anyway, the other Turf War stage is… Flounder Heights! Doesn’t Plagg live here?”

“I think so, I’ve seen him commuting into the city sometimes.”

“Nice! And now for the Ranked Battle stages. The next Ranked Battle mode is… Tower Control!”

Rose sighed, leaning on her Carbon Roller Deco. “Tower Control is so stressful…”

“And the first Ranked Battle stage,” Mireille continued, “is Kelp Dome! Aurore, do you know if they grow chip plants here?”

Aurore stifled a yawn. “I seriously doubt it, Mireille…”

“Right, right, I knew that. Anyway, the other Ranked Battle stage is… Walleye Warehouse! And ooh yes, even we’ve heard the juicy stories… off in a remote corner of the warehouse, two young inklings are–”

“BATTLING!” Aurore said quickly, putting on a giant grin that looked very out of place. “Yep. Battling. We’re not spreading any rumours, are we Mireille?”

“No, no, of course not, haha!” Mireille chuckled nervously. “Alright, that’s it for now. We’ll see you later for the next battle stage announcements. And in the meantime…”

The two Squid Sisters put their hands up in unison and sang, “Stay fresh!”

Nath turned straight round to face Rose. “What rumours? Please tell me! I know I’ve been here for a while now but I still always feel like a newbie, so out of the loop…”

“Oh, it’s just something silly,” Rose said, giggling a little. “Juleka told me about it, she hears everything. It’s not anything terribly important, just some silliness, I’m surprised the Squid Sisters even mentioned it…”

“So what is it?!”

“You know Lê Chiến Kim, right?”

“Of course I do, I’ve been splatted by him like seven hundred times.”

Rose giggled again. “So have I! Anyway, apparently a while ago he was bragging that after a match at Walleye Warehouse, he went and hid off in a corner and kissed someone.”

“Who?”

“No one knows, he’s been keeping it a secret. Most people guess it must have been one of his teammates, but who knows? It’s a mystery! And now Walleye Warehouse is somewhat notorious for being… well… romantic, I suppose…”

“How can a noisy, smoky factory be romantic?” Nath scoffed. “And what if Kim’s lying?”

“He may be a show-off, but he’s not a liar.”

“Whatever.” Nath held up the new weapon he was going to try out, the N-ZAP ’85. “So, should we go battle?”

“Fine, I suppose. But like I said, I’m only doing one match. Tower Control is really not my thing.”

Seeing her dejected face was enough to make Nath feel a little guilty for dragging her into this. It was like kicking a guppy. He leaned forwards and gave her a quick hug.

“Thank you Rose, you’re an awesome friend.”

There – that had cheered her up! She gave him one of her massive smiles.

“It’s no problem! With you it’ll be fun! Let’s get going.”

They went into the Lobby together and joined a match. Since it was Nath’s first time he had automatically been assigned a rank of C-, the lowest, so he was matched up with other players of similar ranks. Rose had done few enough Ranked Battles that she was still a C- rank too, so they were assigned to the same team together along with two other people.

While the team was getting ready, Nath read a little information booklet that explained the rules of Tower Control. In this mode, there was a small square tower with a little post in the middle of it. It started off in the centre of the battle stage, and whenever one of the teams “controlled” it (by having at least one of their members standing on the tower) it would slowly move along a predetermined path towards a goal near the enemy team’s base. The objective was to get the tower as far towards the goal as possible within the time limit, and stop it falling into enemy control.

That sounded simple enough. Of course, there were a few more rules, such as the match going into overtime if the losing team was in control of the tower when time was up, or that if the tower reached one of the goals then the team in control would automatically win by knockout, etc. Nath decided he would get the hang of it better by actually taking part.

He and his teammates were transported to Kelp Dome for the first match. It was a large indoor greenhouse full of all sorts of plants and food being grown everywhere, making it hot and humid. According to the map the tower was on top of a large platform in the open central area of the battle stage.

Rose started giggling for some reason.

“What’s funny?” Nath asked.

“Oh! It’s just… well, have you had a look at our opponents?”

Nath took a look. Some random guy called Justin, that was alright… and the others were…

“The Slaughter Squad!” he yelped. “How is that funny? We’re going to lose for sure!”

Rose managed to stop herself laughing long enough to answer. “If this was a Turf War we’d lose, but when it comes to Ranked Battles, they’re only rank C- for a reason! You’ll see what I mean!” She collapsed into giggles again.

Nath still wasn’t sure. Alright, fair enough, Kim and Alix wouldn’t be too bad to deal with probably. But what about Max, the legendary unsplattable inkling? Was he still going to be using an E-Litre 3K Scope?

Sure enough, taking a look at what weapons they were using, it was true. Max was still using his E-Litre. The other two had switched to using Tentatek Splattershots. That made sense, since Aerosprays would not be ideal for the kind of fierce battling needed for Tower Control. But Max, with his ridiculously long-ranged Charger… Nath shivered just thinking about it.

The signal played for the match to begin, and Nath immediately jumped off the starting platform onto the low ground, shooting orange ink everywhere. The N-ZAP ’85 had a very quick fire rate and reminded him somewhat of using the good old Splattershot Jr. that he had started off with, though thankfully with better range and accuracy. Maybe he would actually be good at using this one!

One of his other teammates inked the side of a wall and swam up it to get access to the tower much quicker than going the long way around, and Nath followed. They arrived in the central area to see that the other team had already got to the tower first, with Kim standing on top of it raining down Suction Bombs everywhere, and Alix running around on the ground shooting at anyone who came near.

Nath noticed a laser line from somewhere high up and quickly swam away, hopefully out of reach. Kelp Dome had narrow grated walkways running above most of the arena and it looked like Max must have been standing up on one of those, trying to splat people from there.

Anyway, there was no time to lose. The tower was already moving towards the finishing point near his team’s base and he had to stop it from getting there!

He swam up to the side of the tower, unnoticed, while Alix was off chasing Rose. Then he leapt into humanoid form for a second and threw a Splat Bomb onto the tower, hoping that would force Kim off it. But Kim merely went around to the other side of the tower and used the post to shield himself from the explosion.

Alright – maybe direct action was better. He shot orange ink up the side of the tower, swam up onto it, then tried to splat Kim by shooting at him directly.

For some reason, Kim suddenly jumped off the tower, leaving Nath standing there alone. Huh, that was weird. But good! It was good! The tower was now in his team’s control and had started heading the other way.

He went around to the other side of the tower for a better view of where the tower was going, only to see that Kim had left a Suction Bomb there. Nath backed up as quickly as possible but it was too late – the bomb exploded, splatting him in bright blue ink, and Kim went back onto the tower and regained control.

In the several seconds it took Nath to respawn back at his home base, he could see several interesting things happening on the map. His teammates were all distracted and not focusing on the tower. Rose was in a battle with Justin, and the other teammates seemed to be chasing Max and trying to splat him – though surely that was futile, considering Max’s title of “unsplattable”. Meanwhile, the tower was getting closer and closer to the finish, closer and closer to knocking them out completely!

Nath knew it was up to him to stop the tower. He couldn’t afford to make any silly mistakes this time, like not noticing a sneaky Suction Bomb. He had to be careful and do this properly.

The tower was already closing in on the final stretch, down one of the side corridors – though calling it a “corridor” didn’t seem right, since Kelp Dome was so big and spacious. Nath swam over towards there as quick as he could…

Then stopped, staring in disbelief.

“…and I was on the tower first, so you get off and protect it!”

“The tower goes faster with more people on it so will you just let me stay here–”

“But you’re always getting splatted, you’ll sabotage the whole–”

“There’s no one around! Just let me on the tower, you big oaf, we’re meant to be a team!”

Nath couldn’t help it – he burst into laughter. Of course it wasn’t the first time he had seen Kim and Alix furiously arguing with each other, but right in the middle of battle? Oh, this was just too good!

“There, go splat that guy!” Kim said, pointing at Nath. Nath tried to hold up his N-ZAP ’85 and shoot at them but he was still laughing too much to aim anywhere near well enough.

“Why don’t you go splat him? I thought you said you were the one who’s good at splatting people, huh?”

“Oh, just get off my tower you stupid midget!”

Kim picked up Alix by the scruff of the neck and threw her off the tower. Within a few seconds she had climbed back on and started violently hitting him with her weapon.

“HOW DARE YOU CHUCK ME OFF THE TOWER, YOU COMPLETE, UTTER–”

A string of interesting swear words followed. Nath finally got his laughter under control, knowing that he couldn’t waste this chance. If those two were busy having a full-on fist-fight in the middle of battle, at least they weren’t concentrating on him. He ran closer and started shooting at them. That seemed to stop the brawl immediately.

His N-ZAP didn’t have quite as much range as the Tentatek Splattershots, not to mention that it was two on one. He was splatted within just a few seconds. The other two immediately went back to fighting each other.

Respawning back on his home base, Nath knew it was hopeless. None of his teammates were anywhere near the tower so he couldn’t Super Jump there quickly, and trying to swim all the way there would take too much time. There was no point. He watched the map, seeing the tower getting closer and closer and…

There. The tower reached the goal and the signal played for the end of the match. The inklings were all Super Jumped to the centre of the arena where Plagg was waiting to judge them, as always.

“You know,” he said, in a completely monotone voice, “there is a rule that states no physical violence allowed or you will be disqualified. But then again, that rule only applies when you are attacking people from the opposing team. There’s nothing that forbids you from fighting your own teammates. So I guess I’m not allowed to disqualify you complete morons, as much as I want to, since you technically did nothing wrong. Congrats on the win.”

Without another word he vanished.

“I’m not the one who started the fight!” Kim said indignantly. “That thing hit me first.”

“I’m not a thing and I am this close to hitting you again!” Alix snapped.

“Ew, the thing’s trying to speak to me. Max, make it stop.”

Max simply sighed and Super Jumped away.

“Oh fine then, just leave me here with an overly violent little rodent who seems to like trying to beat me up–”

“We should probably go,” Rose muttered, tugging on Nath’s arm. “I don’t like arguments.”

Of course she didn’t. Nath, on the other hand, was finding this far more amusing than he should. At least it was distracting him from the fact that he’d lost his very first Ranked Battle, even though he’d had a chance to win it.

“Fine,” he said. He and Rose Super Jumped back to the plaza. They landed rather near where Max had landed. How was that guy so cool? He hadn’t even needed to say anything to his idiotic teammates, he just left. What gracefulness. What… freshness.

“Phew!” Rose said, a smile back on her face. “I told you Tower Control is aggressive, though I wasn’t expecting it to be quite that aggressive. A real fist-fight, honestly! Did you witness it yourself? What caused it? I would think that they… Nath? Hello?”

She waved a hand in front of his voice. He snapped out of his daydream. Had he been staring at Max? He really didn’t mean to. He was just… trying to figure out how to be that fresh. Of course.

“Yeah, I’m listening,” he said.

“Oh, right! Sorry.” Rose continued to speak. Nath wasn’t really listening that much, though. What type of sunglasses was Max wearing? Why did he wear them all the time? They certainly looked good, that was for sure. And that jacket, that jacket looked good too. And that whole attitude, the whole way of life, being unsplattable and carrying that E-Litre 3K Scope around everywhere with him even when he didn’t need it, just because it fit his aesthetic…

Nath tried to shake himself out of it. He wasn’t feeling jealous, was he? No… so then what was he feeling?

Another boss battle. Another time for Adrien to use his Kraken. Yet again, he felt the toxic Octarian ink overtaking him. But this time he wanted to stay awake – he had to stay awake! He had to help Marinette defeat the “Octonozzle”, as this Octarian boss was called.

Why had he used his Kraken? They were doing fine without it. It might have been difficult, but they would have lived. He didn’t need to do it. Why was he always so impulsive? Using his powerful weapons just to be on the safe side, even when he didn’t need to. And this time, all it was doing was causing him pain.

“Chat Noir, stay safe!” he heard Marinette call to him, as if from a distance. She pushed him towards the edge of the arena and then ran off to fight the boss herself. She was so good at being the hero. Afraid of nothing, excellent at everything. Would Adrien ever be able to reach that level? Maybe, maybe not. It would take a long time, that was for sure.

“You okay, bucko?” he heard Captain Fu ask him through the radio.

“I…”

He couldn’t reply. If he opened his mouth anymore, he might be sick. The edges of his vision were starting to black out.

No! He didn’t want to faint again. The boss wasn’t defeated, it wasn’t safe to just suddenly pass out right here. But this Octarian ink that he had absorbed while transformed into the Kraken, it was hurting him. Killing him. It felt like his blood was sizzling.

“Take a seat if you want, bucko. You’ve earned it.”

Had he though? Had he really earned it, when Marinette was out there still fighting?

Feeling dizzy and sick, he slumped onto the floor. The world seemed to be spinning around him. He could see Marinette shooting at the Octonozzle’s tentacle, though it seemed blurry from here, and he could see her stand back as the Octonozzle burst into pieces. All that remained was the butterfly that it had been holding captive.

Oh, thank goodness. The boss was defeated. It was safe.

Without even realizing it, Adrien had ended up lying down, swimming in and out of consciousness. Vague memories drifted past him, nothing concrete. Was that a side effect of prolonged exposure to Octarian ink? Reliving your memories? Because that had happened to him the first time, too.

“Chat! Chat, are you okay?”

He could barely even hear Marinette. Heck, was that even Marinette? Or was it Captain Fu? He couldn’t tell through the ringing in his ears.

Closing his eyes, he finally let the darkness wash over him completely.

A park, with everyone on skateboards and having a good time. But Adrien waits outside. He won’t enter. Not without…

“Why don’t you want to go in?” he asks.

Those grey eyes turn to look at him with less enthusiasm than he has ever seen. “I’m not really… welcome here, I guess…”

“Why not?”

A sigh – not a tired one, but a sad one. “I have an enemy here.”

“You have an enemy?!” Adrien can’t help but feel shocked. “How could anyone be your enemy?”

“You don’t battle with me much, you don’t know, but…” A soft hand squeeze. “I’m not really as nice to other people as I am to you.”

“I know that,” Adrien admits.

“Yeah. I wish I could be better. I just…” A harder hand squeeze now. “I find it so hard to apologize! And I’ve got this reputation already, and I don’t wanna change it, I worked so hard to get here. But I always get so jealous and reckless, and a certain person here at this skatepark hates me very much, and I wish I could change that but I just don’t even know where to start…”

Adrien always loves receiving hugs, but now is the time to give one. He never tires of feeling that precious warm hoodie fabric against his arms.

“I’m proud of you for trying,” he says. “You know there’s a problem and you want to change. That’s the first step. And I love you.”

A long pause. His words must have really had an effect.

“I… I love you too, Adrien.”

Of course. He knows that. He smiles into the hoodie, feeling lucky for once.

[vidalinav]

Letting Things Get too Far: (One-shot) *Contains ACOSF spoilers

This is not the fic I was going to post and I am on the fence now about posting “Love is Bright Red, Hope is Dark Blue.” I might still do it, but I don’t know, because I don’t want the six chapters to influence my perception, but OMG I am so mad. I have to laugh because I’ve never been this mad before. And I know eventually it will be okay with the rest of the book, but I cannot deal NOW with what we’ve got. I will not be unbiased, no reader in the world is unbiased when they love a book, but oooo this is a little too much. Like if you’re not deeply enraged are you even a fan? Lol

The only way I deal with emotions is writing because I get really obsessive and I cannot stop thinking about something until I change my mind about it, so I wrote a fic based on those chapters to change my mind. 

So Please don’t read this fic if you haven’t read the 5.5 chapters that were released (legally) to the world yesterday. I do have to say that I wrote this based on Italian translation and not of the one that was translated by someone here in English. But the general concept it the same. 

Summary: Nesta gets threatening (some time after she’s “healed”) 

~

Nesta could tell they were watching her. She supposed it must have seemed off to them that she was sitting in the dining room, reading a newspaper, a toast with jam and cup of tea to the side of her. Too casual, they must have thought. So very much unlike the Nesta they knew.

But one by one they sat—to the side of her of course since she’d chosen the head of the table. Nesta knew of only one other person who would dare sit across from her. She smirked behind the letters, the paper smelling of ink.

First Elain, sweet Elain with her soft, cautious good morning.

Then Feyre with her ruffled hair, matted and imperfect. Nothing like the High Lady she was supposed to be. How embarrassing, she thought, that Feyre had not yet learned that queens were to be perfect in every instance. Every circumstance.

Mor yawned loudly, stretching her arms above her head. The billowy blonde looked to Feyre as Nesta sipped a bit of tea. Green with a slice of lemon.

Amren was shushed as she came barreling in. Loudly and grumpy. Tired, perhaps, from her days going over the law books of Velaris code.

Rhysand kissed the apple of Feyre’s cheek, her little sister’s skin turning red. A honeyed gesture that made the rest gag mockingly for the way Rhys then bit down on the soft flesh and playfully pulled. He indeed sat where she thought he was going to—the only seat left closest to Feyre. His brows furrowed when he noticed her across from him, but Nesta didn’t give him the light of day.

The game had not begun.

Nesta waited for the missing player, ruffling the newspaper, the sound harsh in this room where all remained quiet. As if they were waiting for something.

Waiting for someone.

Azriel walked in, sitting to the side of her. He peered up at her. Wary and assessing. What are you up to?

She blinked at him surprised, not at all expecting that he’d be here for this—that he’d come down from the House of Wind to grace them with his presence. No matter. This talk wasn’t particularly for him, but she supposed he’d learn something too. As they all could.

The last one of them arrived with a flourish down the stairs. Bright and loud, stomping on the wood as if soldiers had been set loose in this house and not merely one male who made her smile sweetly despite herself.

He kissed her on the lips, a small peck. Something new for the others to witness. They looked at each other, mirth in their eyes—shock. But not from her happiness, Nesta thought, from their triumph. This broken girl who’d been mended when her heart was full.

“Sit down,” Nesta commanded softly, pointing her chin to the seat beside her—across from Azriel. She watched him look towards his brother, but Azriel merely shrugged.

“You waited for me?” Cassian laughed, the sound off even to her. His eyes squinting with concern… or was that vigilance she saw?

Oh, how dangerous he must know her to be to look at her like that.

Nesta smiled, her eyes softening. “I’d always for wait for you.”

Cassian lips set into a fine line at the sickly-sweet tone.

“In fact, I couldn’t have done this without you,” she gestured to the room, shrugging at the last moment. A strained laugh on her voice, “Or so they’ll say.”

Nesta set her newspaper down. The paper rumbling. Distantly she could hear the yells of soldiers, the clash of swords calling to her in her memory.

But none of that noise was here. No one said a gods-damned thing.

She sighed, sitting back in her chair, surveying them all. She could scent their fear, but Nesta didn’t know who it was coming from as she looked to food in the center. Vibrant jellies, eggs, and bacon. Much more food than any she’d consumed in her months away. She’d been reduced to plain porridge.

“Just say what you need to say, girl,” Amren said, gripping the table with her hands. Small and powerless.

Not as powerful as her anyway.

“You’re right of course, dear friend. I should get on with it as any other.”

Nesta lilted her head in a nod. “Consider this meeting long overdue. It was my fault really, for having been in such a low place. I suppose being constantly faced with death and brutality is a regular occurrence to the fae.”

She shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, huffing a laugh as Cassian’s gaze went to the skin of her collarbone from where her robe had slipped off from her shoulder. “Or so I’ve been endearingly reminded of for the past four months… It was my bad of course for letting things get too far.”

Nesta leaned forward, laying her head delicately on her hand. “Isn’t that what you said Feyre? I want to get the exact words right.”

But Feyre didn’t speak only stared at her with those blue eyes so much like hers but so different. They were made from different parts she supposed—different parts of their mother. Feyre got the stomach, and Nesta got her cold, melodic heart.

Queen indeed.

“Letting things get too far?” Nesta laughed, the sound loud even to her own ears. “Yes, I suppose that was true… But you know, this amazing thing happened when I was forced to follow this routine of yours. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Have breakfast. Train. Have lunch. Work at the library. Over and over until I thought the monotony might kill me itself.”

Nesta smiled brightly to all of them, her eyes rolling over their gazes. Elain didn’t dare look at her. Nesta was not in the mood to comfort. What were older sisters for but to lead by example?

“If the magic and the trauma didn’t do it first,” she added.

 She lowered her voice as if she were about to tell a story, engaging her audience until all they could do was listen.

“And then—like a miracle—Cassian was called to Vallahan and I went with him. Screw the rules, he said…” Nesta patted him in the shoulder. A good little soldier. “So easy for you to say that when the rules were not made for you.”

“You know what I discovered?” She sang.

Nesta waited for an answer, but no one would meet her gaze.

She looked to the one who knew so much about the outside world. The one who could never leave the one inside her head. “What did I discover Mor?”

Mor took a sip of her mimosa, cringing as she swallowed. “People fear you.”

“People fear me,” Nesta said, proudly.

She laughed, shaking her head at these beings in pajamas who thought so highly of themselves.

She lifted a shoulder, “for good reason of course. I certainly convinced the council of Vallahan. I always knew I had this power, but to wield it—to not let it control me but to be controlled—Glorious.”

“And you know what I learned in those two weeks?” Nesta lowered her voice, the words slipping out of her in a sneer. “That I have more power in my little pinky then you have in your entire body. All of you.”

She flipped her hair back, where a stray piece had fallen forward, “I got your little treaty signed of course. That was simple. You’d be surprised how easy it is for people to give up their will when they are pissing their pants. But no matter, all’s fair right?”

“Why are you tell us this?” Rhys asked. “What do you want?”

Her eyes went to his, those violent storms of subdued rage.

Tell me again to sit like a dog High Lord, she whispered into his mind. Rhys sat straight up, Feyre grasping his arm.

Nesta simply picked up her newspaper once more. The image in the center showing a great depiction of Velaris’s royal family.

“You ever make a decision on my behalf again,” her voice turning to soft silk. As sweet as a poison apple, “I will burn this city to the ground.”

Nesta tilted her head up, noting the marbled leaves engrained in the ceiling. The opulence. The fraudulent comfort of a house too large for two.

“I think I’ll start with this estate.”

She tutted. “Paints are usually flammable, aren’t they Feyre?”

She watched her sister swallow, the light of Rhysand’s eyes dimming to a darkness she thought might engulf them all.

Nesta could smell his fear…

She lifted the cup to her lips, “Understood?”

“Duly noted.”

The rest mumbled their assent.

And Nesta turned to the toast at her side, already spread with apricot jam. She picked up the bread and set it on Cassian’s plate. “I quite like these jams. We should get some before we go.”

“Too much sugar,” he replied slowly, as if he was getting used to the switch from her being threatening to caring. “You eat this, and you’ll be tired within the hour.”

Nesta pouted in response, wrinkling her nose, “You know, you really need to lighten up. Maybe you’ve gotten harsher in your old age.”

Cassian gave her a hard look.

“I mean, you’re in your 500s. You can barely keep up with the times,” She teased. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you couldn’t keep up… in other areas.”

Cassian scoffed, lifting his lips in an outrageous laugh.

“Wait” Feyre called, holding her hands up in surrender. Nesta turned to her, lifting a curious brow. Her little sister blinked back, unsure if Nesta still wanted to destroy their home.

She would never destroy her little sister’s home...

But then Nesta thought of her shabby apartment laying in rubbles, ready to be rebuilt.

Oh, right.

“Will you continue to be our emissary?”

That was a question Nesta was not expecting…

“Oh, I don’t know,” She flourished. “I suppose we’ll see how it goes.”

She shrugged dramatically, “You follow these rules… and after a couple of months, I’ll re-assess your behavior. We can revisit me working with you all after some time has passed.”

“I don’t see how you’re allowed to do whatever you please, just by being threatening,” Amren noted.

Nesta smiled at the hypocrisy.

“Subsection B, Line 84 says I can,” Nesta sang, “As long as were making up rules.”

~

I’m laughing as I type this. This book is about to be a cathartic experience. It actually did make me feel better to write this. 

I wish someone would release an epub already. Like fuck this shit, we’ve bought three versions, two versions, one versions, multiple versions. There’s only a week left. It hardly matters, release the PDF! The book was supposed to be out last month anyway. I’m not into self-righteousness right now, like the release of books is mostly about money. Sara has earned her part. I’m sure she’s happy. These are the people who hardly cared about promoting it at all. I think they threw this book out the window a long time ago and you know what they saved money on promotions too. They’ll be fine. 

I’m clearly displacing my anger... But I cant handle this anymore... But I cant stay away. 

[translightyagami]

James “translightyagami/avoidfilledwithcelluloid” Death Note Fic Masterlist

Hello to all you guys out there. Here is my full masterlist of allllll the Death Note fanfic I’ve written: There are over 120 fics contained within this entire list. I’m going to split it up by chapter fics, one-shot fics, short fic compilations, and gift fics I’ve done for fandom exchanges. The descriptions will tell you what the pairings are (mostly Lawlight, but there’s other stuff too). There are several posts of mine that are loosely defined fic, but I won’t be adding those in this post as they are just … hard to organize lol.

Fics are marked with E if they have explicit content and T if there are textual references to transgender characters. Chapter fics are marked as either complete or currently incomplete. Okay! Here we go! 

[UPDATED 11/20/2021]

CHAPTER FICS

sit and stay awhile https://archiveofourown.org/works/31032719 complete Light has a fantasy of sitting in L’s lap, and he’s got a plan to make that a reality.

the art of ink and flowers  https://archiveofourown.org/works/35106943 currently incomplete, E, T Light needs an apprentice and thinks he's found the perfect one in young firecracker Mello. Now to deal with Mello's uncle, the strange, mysterious, and - oops! - super hot florist Ryuzaki, who doesn't want his nephew near a tattoo parlor. What could possibly go wrong?

i could write it (better than you ever felt it) https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913043 currently incomplete Light works in the To-Oh university library, where he meets his favorite romantic mystery author, Eraldo Coil, who later reveals himself to be the great detective L. Through the course of their working together to solve a crime, Light finds he might have feelings for L and those feelings might be shared by the detective novelist.

your heart is an empty cup https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027707 currently incomplete Light is the assistant manager of a Starbucks in NYC, and L is one of his most annoying customers. When L accuses Light (correctly) of being Kira, as well as mysteriously asking for his help on a different case, the barista has to decide if he’s ready to get in bed with the enemy – maybe even literally.

the forest holds strange creatures https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442660 complete, E, T Light, a paranormal research grad student, comes to a small town trying to find a mysterious cryptid. He finds L, a 10-foot-tall tree creature, who helps Light discover the greatest cryptid of all: love. The only reason this one is in the chapter fic section is because it includes a Halloween special chapter with the intro of Beyond Birthday into the cryptid AU.

At Your Service https://archiveofourown.org/works/19229524 complete, E, T The Yagami family owns the sprawling, exclusive Hotel Kitsune where all sorts of international espionage agents make their temporary home. That includes the great detective L, whose romantic tension with Light comes to a boiling point when he comes to stay after a long absence.

best practices https://archiveofourown.org/works/21113519 complete, E, T Light has been working his way to the top of the corporate ladder thanks to his own hard work, and his more-than-close relationship with L, the company CEO and founder’s son. Their relationship comes to a head when L challenges Light to open himself up, making him vulnerable to showing the true depth of what he feels for L and his own desire to explore sexual power dynamics.

ONE-SHOT FICS

tell me the truth https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592320 E, T Light and Matsuda hit up a bar after work, and then Light hits up Matsuda for sex, praise, and a distraction from the deep emptiness inside him.

constricting https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721580 E, T Light breaks L’s favorite tea cup in their kitchen, and L eats him out because he loves his husband so much.

tell me I’m good https://archiveofourown.org/works/13986861 E In the middle of the night, L receives a drunk call from Light, hiding in the bathroom at a party. The call, turning from desperate to horny, reveals more about Light than L wanted to know.

if at first you don’t succeed https://archiveofourown.org/works/15119816 E, T Light gave his first blow job and accidentally bit L on the dick. He tries to make up for his mistake by trying again.

let me work on you https://archiveofourown.org/works/15884799 E, T As the result of losing bet to him, Light has to be L’s computer desk – naked and laying over his boyfriend’s lap. Of course, when L gives him another sexy challenge, Light can’t help but rise to the occasion.

alterations https://archiveofourown.org/works/17945957 E, T Light comes to visit his boyfriend Mikami at his fancy law office and suggests they have sex there. When Mikami reacts unfavorably, Light has to do damage control, and it smarts a lot more than he expected.

lizard https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552499 E, T Light meets a beefcake guy at a bar on the anniversary of L’s death, and lets him take him home (Lizard is my death note OC, and the fic was a wonderful commission from @queerical​)

Buried Alive https://archiveofourown.org/works/19705540 L and Light live together in L’s underground bunker after the apocalypse scorches the Earth. They watch some VHS tapes and do some gardening.

Our Little Secret https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822881 E After getting his memories, his freedom, back, Light wants to give L a gift: Kira tied up at his mercy. But L isn’t so sure if that gift is the one he really wants.

The Light of the Moon https://archiveofourown.org/works/25052722 E, T L is a vampire and accidentally bites Light, who is haunted by dreams that make him question why he wants L to bite him again (and maybe … something more …)

little animals https://archiveofourown.org/works/26829778 E Light and his werewolf boyfriend L fuck in their backyard garden.

Change OR the one where L and Light get married https://archiveofourown.org/works/27748159  E, T A gift/commish fic for @ohgodplsdontlook​. Six years after the Kira case closes, L and Light go have a wedding in the mansion where L spent his childhood summers. They bring the Yagami family, their baggage, and vows to share each other’s secrets.

a divine power https://archiveofourown.org/works/28018197 E L has a particular power that has helped him get confessions from even the most hardened, tight-lipped criminals, and he offers to use this power on Light to get an honest answer to the question "Are You Kira?" Not really believing L's power is real (and also smelling an easy way to lie his way out of being caught) Light agrees to submit to this bizarre investigative power - not realizing that L is about to make him a *very* honest man. (TL;DR, L has a Magic Cock That Makes Anyone He Fucks Fall in Love With Him AU.)

Possession https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232294 E After being killed by his family for being Kira, Light makes a deal with the demon L to get back to the mortal realm - a very, very sexy deal.

24-Hour Gym https://archiveofourown.org/works/29415480  After the yellow warehouse goes (mortally) in their favor, Light and Mikami frequent the same 24-hour gym. Eventually, after seeing all his work out skills, Light asks Mikami if he can bench press *Kira*.

Fantasy of a Fantasy https://archiveofourown.org/works/29729685  E, T While monitoring the Yagami family home for suspicious activity, L catches Light getting off to a dirty magazine and projects what he thinks his main suspect's fantasies might be.

the chains that bind us https://archiveofourown.org/works/32051299 E, T  Obligatory post-Yotsuba arc fic where Light is released from the handcuffs, and wants desperately to be back in bondage with L. Features a very creative use of the handcuff chain.

Kept https://archiveofourown.org/works/33334282 E, T Omegaverse AU where Light cooks up a horny evil scheme so that L won’t throw him in jail, and also lets him get that alpha lovin’ he so desires.

so glad you’re home https://archiveofourown.org/works/33977605 E, T L returns from a solo case and he and Light have a purr-fect homecoming together - including some spanking, cat ears, and a shower of sappy affection. 

SHORT FIC COMPLIATIONS

hand in unlovable hand https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025058 E Okay so I’ve been answering Tumblr askbox prompts for over 2 years now, and this? This is ALL of the Lawlight fics. There are over 70 Lawlight fics in this compilation, with all the nsfw fics marked as such. Here are somethings you’ll find in this horde: an AU where L is fat; dirty talk; ghost sex; phone calls about buying a house; early morning tea; kissing; spanking; bondage; L’s hair being brushed; and much, much more. If you have wished for a particular type of Lawlight fic, it is probably in this bunch.

Containing Multitudes https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570645 E Like i said, I’ve been answering all types of Tumblr prompts. These are all the multi-pairing fics that are not Lawlight. In over 20 fics, you’ll find Mikalight, Light/Misa, Misa/Takada, Misa/Rem, Light/Namikawa, Beyond/Light, Light/Matsuda, and even a few ones with Light and my DN OC Lizard. All nsfw fics are marked as such.

hereditary https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159354 All the Tumblr prompt fics I wrote specifically about the Yagami Family. About 4 fics long, includes a really nice couple of Sayu and Light sibling sadness fics.

bottom shelf erotica https://archiveofourown.org/works/20899706 E These are the 5 fics that I wrote to fill Death Note kinkmeme prompts. They are few frills, dirty, sloppy, all bottom Light smut fics. Also, since I didn’t want to give myself away on kinkmeme they’re all cis stuff. (because really who else would have been throwing trans smut up there?)

something between us (anyway) https://archiveofourown.org/works/30304620 T, E a slowly updating collection of 10 tumblr fic requests I received for the pairings of lawlight and (my DN OC) lizard/light, covering prompts including omegaverse, coffee shop AU, sexy lingerie, and much, much more.

kinktober 2021 https://archiveofourown.org/works/34235686 E, T updated each saturday of Oct. 2021, these five fics all revolve around lawlight and specific kinky prompts.

GIFT EXCHANGE FICS

your father’s son https://archiveofourown.org/works/15115568 T A Secret Shinigami 2018 gift for AbbodonAbandon. Light and Soichiro have a talk about why Light quit the tennis team. Lots of trans shit in here.

in your shoes https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405516 E A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @pashmina-dhaage​. L is a professor who is having a quiet relationship with one of his grad students, Light. When he sees Light through his office window stepping in mud, L rushes to give him the shoes off his feet.

wash it out https://archiveofourown.org/works/22405648 A Sexy Enquirer 2019 gift for @complicatedmerary​. Mikami and Light, a pianist and violinist respectively with the same opera company, are carrying on a passionate affair while Light remains married to the opera’s soprano, Misa.

Thank you for Reading, Commenting, and Being Nice to Me About My Silly Fic!

[smol-and-grumpy]

Confidentiality - Chapter 1: The Conference Call

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Four months. Four long months that she’s been hiding in lockdown. So when everything starts to go back to normal again, she’s going back to work as Jensen’s handler for the first Supernatural convention after the pandemic.

Chapter Warnings: A little angst, a dash of fluff

WC: 1703

A/N: For this fic, let’s pretend Jensen is single and the pandemic was over and done with after four months. Also I’m sorry ugh, it’s been a while since I wrote Jensen. 

Beta’d by: @dean-winchesters-bacon​​ <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee

It’s Monday and Y/N is sitting in a darkened room as she starts up her laptop for today’s work meeting. She had drawn the blinds already, hiding her surroundings from her workmates.

The light on the nightstand illuminates the room enough for the people in the video call to see her features. That’s all they need to see, really. 

Logging onto her laptop with her password, she clicks open the email client, and selects her calendar. The cursor travels over the highlighted block and she clicks on it, searching for the login link to the Zoom meeting. 

It’s 4.56 PM, she still has four minutes left. Wonders if she should click on the link and let the computer connect or if she should wait. She’d hate to be one of the first ones because that’s always awkward. She would spend time talking nonsense with whoever was as eager as her to join a meeting too soon. 

4.58 PM. Now is a good time, probably. Not too early and she’d hate even more to be the last one. 

Moving her mouse over the link, she clicks on it and a window with the meeting pops open. There’s another click and then she’s there, her laptop camera lights up with a green light, signaling that she too can be seen. 

Seeing herself on screen is not something she enjoys. She nervously rights her hair, arranges it so nobody will notice the hickey that she tried to hide with concealer ten minutes before. It’s a fresh one, one he just gave her an hour ago, even though he knew full well that she’s going to have a meeting. It's her own fault because she had let him, always gets so fucking weak when he nibbles at her throat.

Y/N joins as the six people are talking about something. Nonsense, she guesses. She doesn’t really listen. 

There should be ten people in the meeting to discuss the upcoming Supernatural Convention. The first convention after the lockdown. 

“Hi,” she says and waves, because that’s what every newcomer does and she’s greeted with Hello’s and Hi’s back. 

But there’s one guy already sitting in there, looking like he owns the whole fucking internet, and she doesn’t know how he does it with the lighting but he looks downright pretty. It’s not really fair. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Jensen greets her by name. Of course he does, because he likes to rile her up. He’s also the only one who’s so abso-fucking-lutely cheery. “How are you?”

She smirks, “I’m fine, thank you. I hope you are too.”

Keeping it professional, that’s what she can and will do.

“Good,” Jensen nods and opens his mouth to say something more but he gets cut off by her boss who’s taking the lead. 

Y/N doesn’t say much, doesn’t have anything to say anyway during the first ten minutes of the conversation. Lowering her face, she takes notes because it’s a prep meeting where they get informed how it will work out and to see how the spirit of the people involved is for the upcoming convention — which she’s really excited about. It has been a while. 

Jensen and Jared do a lot of talking, as they want to know the details on how to make the experience great for the fans after everyone’s been holed up for so long. And she loves that. She always loved how they actually really care, unlike other show’s leads. There are some points that still need to be talked through and Y/N just sits back and watches. She could watch Jensen talk for days, it’s really mesmerizing. 

His hair is long, his beard too. Jensen’s new look is completely different from Dean. It makes him look softer, and rounds up the edges of his jawline. The graying of his beard doesn’t make him less attractive, and that’s also something that she thinks it’s unfair. She hopes they will let him keep it for the convention. Hopes that he won’t let them talk him out of it because ‘some fans might want to meet Dean and not Jensen’. It’s going to be another month until they go back to filming, so it’s actually feasible. She’s sure that apart from a select few, the majority of fans would love to take a photo with this look and she can’t blame them one bit.

It’s going to be weird when the look is gone. Honestly, she needed some time to get used to it herself, but it has really grown on her. Maybe she’ll mourn the loss — just a little.

“So, let’s recap,” Gina, her boss, says and Y/N snaps her mind back to reality, “Jared’s flying in on Friday already because you want to visit some friends, right?”

“Correct,” Jared nods his head in approval. “You did book the hotel for three nights for me, right?” The question is directed to her co-worker, Julian, who’s responsible for the boys' travel arrangements. 

“Yeah, I did,” Julian says with a nod of his head.

Gina nods, “Good, so Jensen, I see that you’re flying in on Saturday evening as per usual?”

“Yes.” Jensen says. He looks into his screen and licks his lips. She hates that she knows that he’s looking at her.

“I want you girls to be there on Friday evening at the latest? We’ll also go for dinner on Saturday and go over the Sunday schedule.”

“Uh, yes. I’ll be there,” Hannah and Kristin say in unison. Kristin is responsible for Misha but since Misha is also attending Sunday, she sits into the meeting as a formality.

That’s Y/N’s cue.

“I-I’m, uh, sorry, I’m still in the middle of booking my flight but yeah, I’ll be there on Friday.” 

It was a huge issue with Jensen and they’d argued today about the flight. He doesn’t want her to leave until the last possible minute but now she has the confirmation that she has to be there on Friday already.

She sees Jensen raising an eyebrow and hates him for it because he distracts her.

“Okay,” her boss nods, “Jared and Jensen, I’ll have someone picking you up.”

Jared smiles, “Okay.”

“Great,” Jensen huffs out. She can see that he’s a little irritated about something.

The others don’t seem to have noticed, but she does. Jared notices as well, but apart from him clearing his throat, he doesn’t say a word.

“Right, I need to hurry to another meeting. Boys, I’ll see you Sunday!” Gina addresses the boys before waving goodbye, and disconnects. People in the meeting follow her and disappear one by one.

Y/N too, disconnects and is about to shut down her laptop when a skype call interrupts her.

Ugh.

It’s Jensen.

As soon as she picks up, her screen lights up and the view of his face almost blinds her. Honestly, it’s like staring into the sun. Nonetheless, she rolls her eyes because of the things he pulled in the meeting. 

“Why are you rolling your eyes at me?” He asks, seemingly oblivious. 

She groans with another eye roll, “Because you tried to distract me the entire conference call!”

“Excuse me? I wasn’t the one who was trying to undress you with my eyes.”

Y/N cocks an eyebrow, frowning at him. There’s a beat of silence until he groans.

“Fine, alright, I did. Sorry, okay? And why didn’t you say that we’re going to fly in together on Saturday like we said we would?” There’s something about the way he looks and she detects disappointment. 

“As far as I remember, we did not settle on that because you ended up distracting me again and gave me a fucking hickey. And besides,” she sighs, “Nobody should know.”

“Would it really be so bad, Y/N?”

“Jensen, are we really going to have this conversation over Skype?”

“Fine,” he scoffs and stands up abruptly, walking out of the frame. 

Great.

Abandoning her laptop, Y/N proceeds to walk to the window to open up the blinds again. Walking back, she switches off the only other light source, and as if on cue, the door opens.

“Shall we have the conversation face to face instead?” Jensen asks as he barges in, walks to the bed of his guest room, and sits down. He rubs a hand through his long hair, scratches at his beard before he looks at her. 

“I rather not have it at all, but yet here we are, huh?” She strides over to stand in front of him and Jensen looks up, his features are so fucking soft, it makes her weak.

“Why don’t you want them to know? And I’m sure they would let it slide if you flew in on Saturday instead of Friday. You’re only responsible for me anyway and we’re a good team.” His hand reaches out for her, tugs at her wrist, uses his strength to pull her onto the bed with him. 

Y/N lands on her back with a squeal and Jensen takes the opportunity, looming over her and looking down at her. Her hand goes up, strokes his hair back, fingertips tracing along his beard.

“Because the only reason I’m still employed is because you let them put in the contract that you want me as your handler and no one else. They would absolutely hate it if they found out I was fucking their talent.”

Jensen chuckles, his nose touching hers, “That’s not true.”

“What’s that?”

“If anything, it’s me fucking you.” His irresistible smile makes Y/N melt a little before he kisses her. 

He lingers too long, kisses her too softly, too sweetly, knowing what effect his kisses have on her. 

Pushing at his chest, she makes him break the kiss, “I should look for a flight.”

“No,” he chuckles and pecks her lips.

“Jensen!”

“Okay, fine,” he pushes himself up, “but only because I have an interview scheduled.”

Right, he does. It’s going to be an hour long.

“You want me to make dinner to have it ready when you’re finished?” She asks while she sits up and walks over to her laptop.

“Nah, I’ll eat you,” Jensen winks before he walks out.

Chapter 2

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

[princip1914]

A few thoughts on writing longfic

I’ve had this post brewing for a while and I figured since today is a Friday I might as well let it out into the wild. 

First off, this is not writing advice. I don’t feel qualified to give writing advice. This is a few observations I’ve made over the course of trying to write something that feels, well, long. Fandom is full of excellent authors writing long chaptered fic, but I don’t see a lot of people talking about how they go about producing such fics. I remember feeling like long fic was really out of reach for me when I started writing again in the summer of 2019 after not writing for years and years and I wanted to talk a bit about how that changed for me. Of course, this post comes with all the caveats that there is no need to ever write long fic if you’re not feeling it. Some of my favorite authors write mostly or only oneshots! But, if you are interested, here’s my lengthy, self indulgent, and entirely personal take on ~the longfic process~ below the cut. 

First, to get this out of the way: long fic is anything that feels long or complicated to you, the author. “I’m working on my long fic” can mean that you’re branching out from microfiction to write something that’s 2k long, or it can mean you’ve got a multi-part 800k epic. There’s no objective measure of if something is “long fic,” Your own personal definitions can also change as you grow in confidence or change your focus as a writer (a little over a year ago when I finished Doubt Thou the Stars are Fire topping out at 31k, that felt very very long to me. Now it feels….still long, but not very very long.) 

Here are a few specific things that helped me write something long. I don’t know if they will be interesting for anyone else, but at the very least writing these down has been a fun way for me to reflect on my own process. 

Practice exercises. Ok, this is going to sound exceedingly obvious, but writing one shots prepares you for writing chaptered fic. Here’s what I mean more specifically: if you know you want to write (as a totally hypothetical example) a chaptered fic set in America in the summer that relies heavily on a nature metaphors, is written out of chronological order, and features a melancholy tone--it helps to write a few one shots like that before you embark on the Big Fic. Just like artists tend to do sketches before starting a big piece, it’s very helpful to write something small that gives you a feel for the ~vibe~ of what you’re trying to do in the long fic. It’s helpful for all the usual reasons--you get to know a specific version of the characters which helps plan out a character driven plot for the long fic--but it’s also helpful because you will learn if the tone and mood of the fic has enough staying power to capture your interest for the long haul. For instance, I have a few unfinished chaptered fics that have a humorous tone. I wish I had done more short humorous fics before starting them, because I would have realized that I don’t currently have the mental stamina to hold up a humorous tone for the length of a chaptered fic (hopefully that will change and I will finish Last Days some time this century!). 

Plan it out ahead of time. I used google sheets for The False and the Fair. I do not think God intended google sheets to be used for fiction, but that was not going to stop me. On a more serious note, I think the best tool for planning fiction is the one you’re the most comfortable with--the notes app in your phone, handwriting, word, google drive, sheets, chalk board, summoning circle, the blood of your enemies, etc. The reason I chose to use sheets is that I knew from the very beginning that I wanted certain things to happen at specific places in the story--for instance, I wanted the first kiss to happen at the end of the first third of the story and I wanted the “reveal” about the mine accident to happen at the end of the second third of the story. But, I didn’t know what was supposed to go in between those elements. A traditional outline for a story at this point in development might have looked like: 

Meet cute

Kiss

Reveal 

Ending 

But, what my brain needed was to preserve the blank spaces in between these story elements, and specifically to preserve the right amount of blank space between these story elements so that it didn’t end up, for instance, that the first kiss was halfway through rather than a third of the way through. In this way, I found google sheets an invaluable tool for pacing in the early parts of the planning process. I simply made 30 rows assuming 30 chapters, and started plugging in the elements I knew I wanted in the locations I wanted them. Then I filled in the blank spaces by asking myself “how do we get from X plot element to Y plot element in Z amount of chapters.” I’m not a mountain climber, but I’ve often thought about the first things that go into the spreadsheet in terms of mountain climbing terminology.  In climbing, a crux move, which can be anywhere along the route, is the most difficult move of the route: if you can’t do it, you can’t do the route. I think of the first things that go into the planning spreadsheet as the crux moves of the story, the most important pieces around which everything else turns. It was not an accident that those were also all the first scenes of the fic that I wrote; if I couldn’t do those scenes, I couldn’t do the story the way I planned it so I wanted to know early on if I needed to make changes.

Make changes if you have to: even though it helps to have things planned in advance, don’t resist the story if it tries to change on you while you’re writing it. Usually the feeling that you have to make changes stems from having a plot that is not entirely character driven. As you write the story, the characters reveal themselves and sometimes the plot has to change to change with the characters’ motivations. Here’s an area where fanfic writers have a leg up on everyone else: if you write fic, you already know the characters really well. That means, (in my experience anyway) it’s less likely that you’ll have a surprise character development which leads to a rethinking of the whole plot. Less likely, but not completely unlikely, unfortunately.

Lie to yourself: The False and the Fair was supposed to be 90k words. I thought that sounded reasonable, a little less than 3x the longest fic I had ever written. Now it's 161k and will probably top out a little over 170k. Ooops. But I never would have set out to write something that long. I wouldn’t have thought I could do it, even though anyone more experienced looking at my plans for the fic probably would have laughed at the idea I could cover all those plot points in 90k. Ignorance is bliss. Protect your ignorance.

Scrivener: Long fic for me means “fic that is long enough you can’t hold all the parts of it in your head at once.” That’s where Scrivener comes in (or another app if you’d rather, but I really like Scrivener for the ability to see the project either linearly or as condensed notecards). You can put together an organizational scaffold in Scrivener that allows you to move back and forth between the forest and the trees. So, for instance, you might be going for a jog and come up with the perfect line of dialogue for chapter 27 when you’re only up to chapter 5 in terms of writing progress. With Scrivener, you can go home, and put that dialogue in the “bucket”/index card/whatever for chapter 27 without compromising your ability to see chapter 5 clearly or muddying up your google doc. You can then use the fact that you’ve started writing bits and pieces of the later chapters in conjunction with the tool of lying to yourself that, actually, you’ve written a lot more of the fic than you realize and that when you get to chapter 27 it won’t be as hard as chapter 5 because you’ve put in the groundwork already. In my experience, this lie turns out to be true about 50% of the time, which is better than 0% of the time.

Digestible mini arcs: The False and the Fair was originally broken up into thirds. I thought it would be 90k and 30k was the longest I had written, so thirds seemed to make sense. Also, 3 is a nice, time honored storytelling number. I think it’s good to give yourself seemingly achievable milestones along the way to completion. These milestones (for me anyway) lined up well with the “crux moments” I’ve described. If you’re someone who likes to write out of order, writing your way to an already written milestone can feel like sailing to an island where you get to rest for a bit from the stormy seas before setting out for the next island in the archipelago.

“It's all part of the process”: I’m categorically incapable of describing things without resorting to running metaphors, and so I apologize in advance, but I am now going to do the insufferable thing of comparing writing a long fic to running a marathon. Here’s the thing with a marathon. You are not going to feel good every step of the way. We all know this. It’s a marathon, it’s supposed to hurt a little bit, especially at the end. In the same way you literally cannot write something novel length or even novella or long short story length without, at least at some point, feeling bad about yourself and your writing. But you also can’t run a marathon if the whole thing is agony, and for most people, it’s not--your meat sack shuffling along the course is subjected to the slings and arrows of all sorts of weird body chemistry that only happens when you push it to its limits. So, you’ll be in agony and then the endorphins will kick in for a while and you’ll be thinking “this isn’t nearly as bad as everyone said,” and then you’ll drink some water at a rest stop and feel like a God for half a mile before you crash and you’re in agony again until that one perfect song comes up on the playlist...and you get the idea. Writing something long, for me at least, is a bit like that. There are massive ups and downs. The key for me is to just understand it’s all part of the process, a necessary step on the way to the finish line. If the fic is 10 chapters long, at some point you have to write chapter 5. Just like you have to write chapter 5, at some point you also have to go through a bit of despair before reaching the end. It is unfortunately non-optional. In fact, despairing is something you can check off your list each time you’ve done it. Cut dialogue tags, check. Feel awful about my writing for thirty minutes, check. Write ending section, check. Often I feel that the stress and shame and fear that come with bad emotions while writing are worse than the bad emotions themselves. It really helps me to remember these emotions are all part of the process and nothing to worry about. If I didn’t have them, then I would worry! 

I certainly have plenty more to say about writing, but this ramble has gone on long enough. If you’re interested in any of this stuff, please feel free to send me an ask. 

I would also love to know more about everyone else’s writing processes, so feel free to pop into my ask box to talk about your own approach too! I am very interested in this stuff! 

[selkiewife]

Since I was re-reading it today (!) could I ask for the commentary meme:

"He was murmuring something again, she turned sharply and took him in. He slept curled in on himself, like a dog. Even unconscious he tried to take up as little space as possible. “Robb…. Robb…” his breath became sporadic, rapid, distressed. “Robb….!”

These were the cruelest dreams. The dreams of the eldest Stark, The Young Wolf. Robb. She knew his name now. She had heard it enough times. Robb Stark. She hated him. Hated all the Starks. They had taken her brother and twisted him beyond recognition.

He began shouting Robb’s name. She crept back into bed and put her arms around him. Theon clung to her, his eyes staring through her.

“It’s alright… Theon. It’s alright. It was another nightmare. You’re fine.”

Theon turned those searing eyes on her and saw her for the first time. His eyes filled with humiliated tears and he bent his head.

“I’m sorry Asha… Robb… He’s gone…” A strangled sob escaped him.

Asha pulled him down onto the pillows and pulled the furs up around them as he continued to mumble his apologies- for keeping her up, for being so much trouble… Asha hated this part the most of all but she stroked his hair softly and held him until he began to drift back to sleep. She thought he was sleeping when he murmured brokenly the constant refrain, “I should have died with him. Where was I? I should have been with him.”

Asha felt angry tears forming in her eyes as she whispered fiercely into the darkness,

“No. You shouldn’t have been with him. You should never have been with him. You should have been with me.”"

@alleyskywalker asked about it's just a shadow you're seeing that he's chasing from this meme:

Thank you so much for sending this ask in! I was really so happy to see that you had commented on this fic because I wrote it so long ago!

The rest is under a cut since it got long:

This was my very first Asha POV fic. I believe that I had seen as much of the show that had aired up to that point (Season 6) and I had read both Theon and Asha’s POV chapters but I had not read the entire series yet. I read the entire series in order after finishing Asha’s chapters. So this was my first book inspired fic. And I wanted to explore the idea that caring for Theon reminded her of Alannys.

I was still relatively new to the world of fanfic and fandom. But I’d found the hurt/comfort fics first and decided that was very much how I wanted to spend all my time lol. So it seemed natural for me to fantasize about Asha comforting Theon. I am actually not sure if I had read Theon’s Winds sample chapter by this point, so I guess I just skipped ahead with this future fic and was hoping they were “somewhere safe and recovering in the north” lol.

I’m really not sure what I was doing with the line, The Young Wolf. Robb. She knew his name now. She had heard it enough times. I think it was because I had noticed that Asha never refers to Robb by name in the books but instead always refers to him as “The Young Wolf." I think I was trying to show that she is now gaining a better understanding of who he was as a person. Whereas before, she only knew Robb from his warrior reputation. Now she knows his first name and knows how important he was to Theon. BUT this line kind of makes me cringe now, because even though she never refers to him as “Robb” in the books that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t have known his name. lol.

When she starts talking about her hatred for the Starks, I was writing what I think she would have actually thought, but I was also responding to people in the fandom who constantly said things like “Theon was better off with the Starks.” Because that’s just not true. Yeah, Balon objectively sucked but, there was still Asha. There was still Alannys who loved him so much that her health drastically declined when he was taken away. There was still Dagmer and Rodrik the Reader.

I also really wanted to explore what it was like for Asha when the north took Theon hostage. How she suddenly found herself alone, the only child left between two parents struggling with their grief in very different ways. It must have felt almost as if Asha lost her whole family the night that Ned and Robert crushed them. She lost her two older brothers, her little brother, and her mother (because of how grief stricken she was) all at once.

And now she sees her brother who is so guilt ridden for betraying Robb, looking and acting so much like Alannys and she thinks about how her family would have been whole had it not been for Robert Baratheon and the Starks. I mean Balon is to blame too- but I just wanted to let her be openly critical of the Starks without any mitigation. 

Because Asha can be very hard on Theon and she also condemned his actions in Winterfell, I think readers sometimes get the wrong impression that Asha would be on the Starks’ side when it comes to Theon betraying the Starks. But, I think that’s a definite nah. Asha is definitely a character that need not wear Stark goggles since they objectively caused so much heartache to her family. And yeah, I know it’s nuanced and it’s not like the Starks loved having to hold a child hostage bla bla bla, but just let me have this lmao. Also there is also the feeling like, "I can talk shit about my lil bro, but no one else can."

The last line was actually the first one that came to me and was the reason I wrote this fic: “No. You shouldn’t have been with him. You should never have been with him. You should have been with me.” Theon thinks he should have died with Robb, but Asha feels like he shouldn’t have been put in that position in the first place. It also echoes back to the fact that when Alannys' mental and physical health declined so badly after her sons were taken from her, there had to be a part of Asha that was like, “Stop looking for them, look at me! I’m still here!” And when she sees that Theon is mourning “his brother” Robb, part of her is like, “I’m your true sister. And you should have always been with me.” I think that when she first met Theon again she saw him as a threat to everything she had worked for her whole life. But now, after all they have been through in the books, she has reverted to the way they probably were as children- with her being protective (and even possessive maybe?) with him. Like, "I would have been a better sibling to you than these damn Starks."

Anyway, I hope that was interesting and thanks again for the ask and for your kind comments on the fic as well! 🐙❤️

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

Another Life

Hi guys!! So, I mentioned in the last chapter of TPWP that I had a short-ish one shot about IshiMondo following Mondo murdering Chihiro in the canon universe. I will warn y’all that this... this is a sad fic. If I were posting this on AO3 (which I will, eventually, I think) there would be the Major Character Death warning, so... yeah. 

Anyway. I just wanted to say something real quick before getting onto the fic. Feel free to skip if you don’t care. But y’all will realize as you read that this is not really my usual style of writing. I tend to prefer to be big on the details and emotion, since that sort of thing is what interests me most. This story, though, is more... barebones. I’m telling more than showing, and there is one main reason for this. This fic... it’s sad, but if I wrote in my usual style, it would be devastating. For me, at least. I got the idea for this fic months ago, maybe even before TPWP, just a quick “I wonder what an interaction between Mondo and Taka would be like after Mondo killed Chihiro would be like.” 

I immediately dismissed the idea once I went down the path and realized how sad it would be, though. I love writing angst, right? I don’t think I’ve ever written a single story without some measure of angst or sadness. It’s just... what I do, ya know? But the one thing I cannot stand is hopelessness. It’s why I don’t like Danganronpa much, since it’s such a hopeless story, even if some of the students get out. It’s hopeless, and more than that, it’s pointless. The death and all that. There’s no reason for it at all, and I just... I hate stories like that, with no hope of a true happy ending. And this idea... it ends kind of hopelessly. I hate that sort of thing. 

But I couldn’t stop thinking of this story. It kept coming back, again and again, and eventually... I caved and knew I had to do something. So I wrote this. I swear, it was supposed to be short! Just 1,000-2,000 words that explained the idea, to get it off my mind. I’d have posted it here and been like “hey guys, see this weird idea I had??? Man, wouldn’t it be crazy if I wrote this???” But then! I started putting more details in, like I always do. And then dialogue showed up. And by the time I finished my first writing session and went off to work, sending the story from my phone to my computer to check the word count, I had written over 6,000 words. And I wasn’t even done. Only then did I realize... this was a fic, dear god. Not my usual kind of fic, but... a fic nonetheless. I finished writing it then, and then went back to add some more detail to the first 6,000 words to make it at least a little like a fic.

Now, I know this was a long explanation, but I just... I’m anxious about this fic. It’s been on my mind for ages and I don’t know if I like the style. I oddly think it fits the story, though, given how messed up Mondo would be after what he did, so there is that. But I just... if y’all could please let me know what you think, I would appreciate it. I do plan on posting this to AO3 and FF . net eventually, but having feedback would help, if y’all wouldn’t mind. If y’all like this style of writing... I may be able to get more ideas out without taking months to write the whole thing. It doesn’t preclude me from writing full fics eventually, but it allows me to get more ideas out. So just... let me know, yeah? 

.

Anyway! Here’s the fic! The main warning is that there is a major character death, since this, ya know... follows canon. It follows Mondo’s POV, and there is very mild sexual content. More referenced than truly shown, but it is there. 

Enjoy! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another Life

 Summary: Mondo finds himself outside of Taka’s room following the events in the boy’s changing room, his head a mess and heart even worse. While he knows he doesn’t deserve it, he finds comfort in Taka’s arms anyway.

  Mondo finds himself leaving the exercise slash changing room in a daze, his body having rearranged the furniture to respect- respect Chihiro and his gender on autopilot, his head a complete mess and feeling so incredibly sick. He has always hated himself, more so after what happened with his brother, but he is positive he has never hated himself more than he currently does, the phantom sensation of bright pink blood staining his hands lingering, even though he has scrubbed them clean a dozen times. 

 In his distraction, he finds himself meandering through the halls without any real idea of what he’s doing, where he’s going, his brain not quite registering what he’d done, his mind wanting to reject it even as he knows he’d done it. While he has always hated himself and his tendency for violence and anger, he’d once never seen himself as the kind of person who could murder anyone, especially not someone smaller and weaker than him. Not even when he was at his angriest and wanted to hurt someone desperately. And he doesn’t know how to handle the reality of what he just did. 

 While walking aimlessly, he realizes that he somehow has found himself back in the dorm hallway, stomach clenched and angry, wanting to throw up but doing all he can to not do so. He tries to force his feet to walk over to where his dorm room is, but finds his legs won’t let him, his mind warring with his body. He is exhausted, has never felt so tired, but he doesn’t know if he can stay in that room by himself all night long. He... he truly doesn’t. 

 It takes him a minute, but he eventually realizes that he’s been standing outside Taka’s room for several long minutes, just staring at the little depiction of the kid on the door, staring like his life depends on it. For the first time since- since, he... he feels something. Anything. He has no idea what that something is, but... but...

 Before he can tell himself not to, his hand is rising and ringing the doorbell, once, twice, three times, before falling back to his side dully, hating himself somehow even more for likely waking Taka, but not knowing what else to do. What even is he supposed to do, now? After... after...

 A few moments pass and Mondo is just about to bail and leave Taka alone, forever, when the door opens, a sleepy but still overly concerned looking Taka standing there, taking Mondo’s breath away. The kid is wearing his sleep clothes, a white and ragged undershirt and a pair of white briefs, nothing else. Mondo has seen Taka naked before, since Taka had insisted that they ‘bare themselves to each other’ a few days before, but somehow... somehow this seems even more intimate. Seeing Taka wearing so few clothes, all sleep warm and scraggly haired, and… and…

 He gets jolted from his thoughts when Taka hesitantly and yet still earnestly asks if he’s alright, inviting him inside without a single thought, not a single care for his own safety or- or anything. 

 For some reason, that angers Mondo greatly. And while he does find himself entering the room, his legs forcing him forward despite himself, he can’t help but yell at Taka, his frustration at all of it coming out. He snarls at the kid, low and angry, asking him why the hell he would ever open his door for anyone during this stupid ‘game,’ let alone let them into his room in the middle of the night, his fear and frustration coming out in a way he doesn’t want, doesn’t want at all. 

 Rather than get angry, though, Taka just stares at Mondo with wide eyes as he rants, and when Mondo is finally done, his exhaustion overcoming him again, Taka... Taka calmly and confusedly replies that he only opened the door because he could see through the peephole that it was Mondo, saying quite earnestly that he trusts Mondo completely and knows he has nothing to fear from him. His guileless and innocent words make Mondo feel disgusting, the reality of what he’d just done hitting him, and he finds himself getting angry again despite how tired he is. 

 He yells at Taka again, then, words that he doesn’t even register but that just burst out anyway, all his anger and frustration releasing from him as he rants. Taka just lets him, a small frown on his face, but when Mondo starts saying that he is a monster and only a goddamn, fuckin’ monster, Christ, Taka apparently has enough and marches over to Mondo, ignoring the deadly (and scared) glare that Mondo gives him in warning. And then... then, Taka places his hands on Mondo’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, a small and yet encouraging smile on his lips as his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm and trust, destroying Mondo entirely. Fuck...

 “That is untrue, kyoudai! I used to think you were only a criminal and a no-good biker, but I have seen the best of you this last week and I know that you are more than that! So much more! You are kind, and caring, and gentle, and very, very good! I know I have nothing to fear from you, kyoudai, no matter what! I understand you have self-esteem issues, my dearest kyoudai, but you needn’t worry! I trust you and always will! I promise! A man’s promise!” 

 The words utterly destroy Mondo, his insides clenching and breaking and hurting, and he wants to cry but he knows he can’t, he doesn’t have the right, not after what he had done. But he can’t help the way his stomach lurches at the earnest look Taka gives him, his heart beating fast, and he knows exactly what it is he feels for Taka. Has known from the moment he set eyes on him in the main hall, so much at odds considering their respective talents, but it was so clear to him even despite that. He never has felt anything like this for anyone, certainly not so soon after meeting them, but... but he does. He most definitely, truly does. 

 At the time, he had even had an absent thought of how Taka just seemed so familiar to him. How— even though he knows they’d never met before; he’d most certainly remember a person like Taka— it was like he knew him intimately somehow. He’d tried pushing it away, especially considering the twisted game they were being forced to play, but he’d never been able to fully push the feeling inside him away. And when they’d had their sauna battle and became kyoudai, he knew he couldn’t deny how he felt for Taka any longer, even though it had only been a couple of short, stressful weeks that they’d ‘known’ each other. 

 But... as stressed out and scared and terrified as Mondo currently feels, he can’t help the desire that rises inside him, looking into Taka’s wide and trusting eyes. Part of Mondo wants to destroy that trust, to break Taka and prove to him that Mondo is just a monster that doesn’t deserve anything good, but he finds he just can’t, the thought of it breaking him more than he’s ever been broken before. And when he sees Taka’s eyes dart down to his lips after several long minutes of staring into one another’s eyes, Taka’s lips parting on a shaky breath... Mondo’s slim hold on himself breaks. 

 Leaning forward, Mondo kisses Taka angrily, firmly, somehow finding a way to hate himself even more for doing such a thing when he sure as hell does not deserve it, not after what he did. And yet, despite his anger, and self-hatred, and pain, pain, pain, he quickly finds himself softening the kiss, since— even with how angry and scared he is— he doesn’t want to hurt Taka. Not now. Not ever. 

 Taka doesn’t kiss back, though, not even after several long, long moments. It’s just as Mondo is pulling back, heart pounding and breaking and aching, thinking he’s ruined everything and that Taka will finally see how much of a monster he is, will hate him, fuck, Taka...

 Taka lets out a soft noise, the sound not at all something Mondo can decipher, before he kisses back. Messy, and clumsy, and clearly inexperienced, but Mondo sure as hell doesn’t care. Not one single, goddamn bit. Not when Taka is as enthusiastic and passionate as ever, his lack of experience getting more than made up for by his enthusiasm and passion. 

 Mondo finds himself walking Taka backwards, Taka following willingly, trustingly, until Taka’s back is pressed against the wall, Mondo kissing him like his life depends on it. And, in a way, he thinks desperately that it does. It truly, truly does. 

 Because he knows. Right? What’s going to happen in the morning. That someone will find the body and a goddamn trial will begin, and while Mondo had done all he could to cover his tracks, he knows he’s not the smartest person and that there are likely so many fucking things he missed that a smarter and more capable person would have noticed. And he knows that... that if they don’t, that if no one notices and they accuse wrong and Mondo doesn’t get- get executed, then... then the whole class will. And that includes... includes...

 Taka pulls back from the kiss first, and Mondo is terrified that it’s because he somehow knows what Mondo did and that he’s disgusted by him, that he hates him, oh god. But before he can utter anything, any apologies he doesn’t deserve or sorrow he shouldn’t be allowed to feel, he feels Taka’s hand gently touch his cheek, wiping away the tears that he hadn’t felt begin to fall. Taka is looking at him with such gentle concern that it breaks him again, and he wants to destroy everything, wants to scream, and rage, and cry, but Taka is talking before he can, and Mondo can do nothing more than listen, desperate and aching. 

 “Mondo... it’s okay, kyoudai, really! Do not cry, I... I wanted to do that. Very, very much! ... I do not know how to explain it, but from the moment I met you, I knew there was more to you than meets the eye. I... I have felt, er... things for you since that very moment! Things I’ve never... never felt for anyone else... aha. B-but please, kyoudai, do not cry! It... it’s okay, Mondo. I promise. I guarantee it! We will get out of here, you’ll see! No one would ever actually kill over something as silly as a secret, and then that darn bear will see that we will never do as he asks, and then we will be free! All of us, kyoudai. N-no one else will die and then we... w-we can be together! If you... i-if you would want that, a-aha...” 

 Mondo feels broken again at Taka’s enthusiastic words, despising himself as he sees how earnestly Taka believes this, even still, even after having learned that one classmate had tried to kill the other, only to get killed herself. Even after being forced to watch as another classmate got pummeled to death by baseballs, and another skewered by spears. 

 Mondo has a moment to despair for Taka and his trusting nature, and he wants so badly to yell. To scream at Taka and ask him what the hell his problem is, ask him why he is being so delusional, but he finds that he... he just can’t. And as he looks deeper into Taka’s eyes, as he looks closer than he’s ever looked into anyone before, he... he sees that Taka isn’t entirely being truthful. He can see the fear that is swirling within him, can see the lie that is in his words, even if Taka doesn’t allow himself to see it. 

 And he realizes... he realizes that, while Taka may be naive, may be trusting… he does know what is happening, in some regard. But... but he is doing all he can to pretend that it’s okay. That this will all end up okay. This is just- just his way of coping, telling himself lies that it will be okay, even though part of him knows that it won’t. Knows that... that there is a very real possibility that he will just... die here. 

 A reality that Mondo suddenly knows will happen to himself come morning. 

 Because... because, if he doesn’t get found out... if he doesn’t get accused properly by the class, if the trial goes in his favor... then Taka will die, Taka and the rest of their class, and that idea is suddenly so wrong to Mondo. That... that Mondo should survive at the expense of their class. At the expense of Taka. He...

 He doesn’t know. If he’d be able to confess himself, be an active participant in his own death. While he’s always tried so hard to be strong and brave, he’s plagued by the truth that he’s not, not really. Not at all. But he knows he can’t let Taka die because of his mistake. His murder. And in that moment... he knows. No matter what, he will die the next day. That day, really, it’s so late. As he looks into Taka’s eyes, seeing the hidden fear that lurks within them, the terror and anguish the boy tries so hard to hide... he knows. 

 And he knows that he doesn’t want to die without knowing what Taka feels like. God... 

 Surging forward, Mondo kisses Taka again, desperate and needy and full of pain, but so good, too. And Taka kisses back, just as desperate, just as needy, making noises that drives Mondo out of his goddamn mind, but he doesn’t stop. He feels himself lifting the thin undershirt Taka is wearing, tossing it over his shoulder as he lets his hands explore the warm and smooth expanse of Taka’s chest. He feels hard, harder than he’s ever felt before, and he wants so, so bad. He presses his hips to Taka’s and moans when he feels an answering hardness, Taka letting out a small shout at the feeling. He knows that Taka is enjoying himself, knows that the boy wants it too, which is why he feels so confused when Taka pulls back, his eyes wide, shaking his head slightly. 

 Taka then says how they shouldn’t, that it’s improper, that they’re not technically even dating. He insinuates that he wants to wait until they get out before they do things, which upsets Mondo, since he knows that that won’t happen, no matter what Taka is deluding himself to believe. But Mondo... Mondo can’t find it in him to burst Taka’s bubble, not when it’s his last night on earth. The last time he’ll get to spend with Taka. Yeah, he really, really wants to go all the way with Taka, to not die a fucking virgin, but he also doesn’t want to pressure Taka. He doesn’t deserve it, anyway. Not after what he did. 

 So, Mondo nods, reluctantly, wondering if he should just go or not. If it wouldn’t be better to just... leave now and not hurt Taka anymore. 

 But then Taka is smiling at him, grabbing his hand, and... and then Taka is kissing him. It’s awkward and clumsy, the boy clearly not knowing what he’s doing, but it’s so endearing to Mondo that he can’t help the warm chuckle he lets out, even if it’s a bit watery. Taka pulls back with a small pout, looking a little annoyed, and Mondo fixes that by grinning brightly, stuffing down the fear inside him, and kissing Taka properly. Taka just lets out a happy sound, annoyance forgotten, and returns the favor in kind, enthusiastic as ever. 

 Mondo loses himself in the sensation and is a bit shocked to find— several minutes later— that at some point the two of them have migrated over to the bed, lips not parting for a single second. Mondo doesn’t mind at all, though, and finds that he can’t help how he pushes Taka down onto it gently, muttering promises that he won’t go too far, he swears. Taka nods absently at the words, seeming too far gone to even care anymore, but anytime Mondo’s hands accidentally wander too far south, he can feel Taka jolt, which reminds him to keep this PG. It still feels incredible to press down onto Taka as he kisses him, though, knowing then that there is nothing else he ever, ever wants to do in life. 

 Sometime later— Mondo has no idea how long since time has never meant less to him— he and Taka find themselves lounging together on the bed, Taka’s head on his bare chest, Mondo’s duster and tank top having been discarded at some point. Taka is drawing absent designs on Mondo’s chest, humming happily. Mondo is holding onto Taka tightly, his fear and terror running rampant through him, but it’s manageable when he’s holding Taka so close. 

 At some point, Mondo manages to let out the words that have been building inside him since he- he did that, his weakness and fear voiced at last. 

 “I’m scared, Taka,” he finds himself muttering, closing his eyes, breathing deeply and evenly. “So... so fuckin’ scared. K-know ya think we’re gonna get outta here, that no one is gonna- gonna fuckin’ kill anymore, but... I dunno. Yer so fuckin’ good, man. Believin’ the best in people, but I... I ain’t like that. An’ I... s-shit. I’m so fuckin’ terrified that I’m gonna die. I don’t... I don’t wanna die, man. I... I...”

 Mondo begins to cry then, hating himself yet again for it, but Taka doesn’t judge him. He just shushes him softly, pulling him close, shifting them so that Mondo’s head is on Taka’s chest now. Mondo’s hair had fallen out of his pompadour at some point, his eyeliner smudged off, and he’s never felt weaker, but somehow... somehow, he doesn’t mind. Not when Taka is there, shushing him softly, kissing his forehead tenderly, eyes soft and caring. He can feel how Taka is shaking, knows that he’s also scared, but damn if Taka lets that be known. Mondo has a moment to think that Taka is probably the strongest person he’s ever met, heart aching, before Taka is speaking. Soft and shaking, but still so incredibly determined. 

 “You won’t, kyoudai. N-neither will I. We... we will both make it out of this, you’ll see! You and me. Me and- and you. We will get out and we will spend the rest of our lives together. We will finish school and then we will go to university, and I will get a job in politics while you- y-you get a job wherever you would like. We will get married and have children, if we want, and pets, and... and we... we will... we will be happy, kyoudai. Happy. And... and together. I- I promise, kyoudai... Mondo. I... I promise...” 

 Mondo can hear the way Taka’s voice tremors, can hear the uncertainty and the doubt even despite the confident words, but in that moment... in that moment, he just doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if that’s actually possible or not. He doesn’t care if he and Taka can have that; if he deserves to have that. He just... he doesn’t care. 

 Instead, he smiles. It’s small at first, but it gets wider and wider the more time that passes, and soon he is laughing. It’s brittle and fragile, but it’s more than he thought he’d ever have, after... well. After what he’d done. He lifts himself off Taka’s chest and looks down at him with liquid soft eyes, smiling with all the love in his heart. 

 And in that moment... he knows. Knows that he wants that. A life. With Taka. And- and had this whole thing not happened... had they met in better circumstances, better times… they could have had that. A life. A love. Him and Taka; Taka and him. Together forever. He loves Taka, truly and fully, and there is no one on this earth he can imagine ever loving more. And maybe it’s the desperation of the situation, maybe it’s not actually real, but he... he wishes that it could be. Real. That they could have discovered together if it could have been real.

 (And in some part of him, deep, deep inside... he knows that it is. He doesn’t believe in reincarnation or things like that, but he knows that this is not the first time he has met Taka. The first time he has fallen in love with him. He doesn’t know what that means, but it’s such a strong belief inside him that he can’t find it in him to contradict it. Not at all. Not even a little.)

 And then... while Mondo really wants to be closer to Taka— to feel him, in every sense of the word— he respects Taka’s wishes and keeps his hands to himself. And instead, he... he finds himself talking. He’s still leaning up on his arms, looking down at Taka, while he continues the story Taka had created. Of their life together. He mentions that he would become a carpenter, fixing and creating things rather than always breaking them. That they would live in a shitty apartment that is broken down and crappy at first, but that they would eventually make enough that Mondo would be able to build them a house, large and perfect, built exactly for them and the family they will have. He mentions that they will adopt at least two kids, a boy and a girl, though he wouldn’t mind more. Says that he will spoil them all rotten and do everything he can to ensure that they will never know the hardships that either of them has faced. He talks about the dogs they will own, and the cats too, and other animals, all the animals, their home full and bright and happy, and...

 And Taka continues when Mondo’s voice breaks, saying that Taka will start a garden outside, one that he will tend to when he’s not working on his campaign. He will grow fruits and vegetables and herbs that he will use in his cooking, since he apparently enjoys cooking and baking and things like that. He will also grow flowers and other ‘useless’ plants, just because he thinks they look nice, their house full of color and life at all hours. 

 Mondo finds his voice again and talks about how he would want to start a charity, something to help kids who grow up in rough neighborhoods, giving them options in life other than street gangs and crime. He talks about how his brother always wanted to do that kind of thing, and that he wants to do it in his stead. His voice gets thick again, but it’s okay, because then Taka is leaning up and kissing him, so he doesn’t have to talk anymore anyway. 

 Mondo has no idea what time it is when they pull back, Mondo shifting them again so that they are facing one another, arms around each other as they cuddle close together. He knows it’s late, thinks it might almost be time for that bear’s fucking morning announcement, but he doesn’t let it get to him. He just holds Taka closer, imagining the life that they created together, a life that could have been theirs— would have been theirs— if only... if only. 

 At some point they start kissing again, Mondo not knowing who starts it but not really caring. The kiss starts lazy and slow, but is soon getting heated again, Taka’s hands wandering all over his chest, driving Mondo crazy. Eventually Mondo has to grab Taka’s hands desperately in his own when they travel too far south, Mondo letting out a desperate noise as he whispers hoarsely that if Taka doesn’t wanna go farther than this tonight, then they should prolly stop. 

 To his absolute shock, Taka gets a concentrated look on his face, like he’s thinking deeply about something, and then... then...

 Taka takes his hands back from Mondo, and then...

 Mondo lets out a strangled curse when he feels Taka’s hand brush against him down there, Taka blushing bright red but looking as determined as ever. Mondo asks him softly what he’s doing, heart racing, and Taka grows even brighter red, but he doesn’t back down. He just hums, softly, and looks Mondo in the eye. 

 “I... I do not know, kyoudai. I just... I want... hm. I’ve never. Um. Wanted. Not before. But I... with you... hm. I-it is improper, I know, a-and we don’t have to- we... we have time, I know, but... but I...” 

 Mondo stares at Taka with wide, wonder filled eyes as Taka trembles, his hardness pressing against Mondo’s as they mold themselves to the other’s body. Part of Mondo feels nervous about what Taka is saying. Thinks that he should deny him, should say that Taka should wait, if he wants. But the bigger part of him... the part that knows the future they made up is just that, made up... the part that knows that they both will not make it out of this alive, since Mondo fucked that up already... 

 It can’t quite find it in him to deny it. Not when he knows this is the only chance he will ever get. Ever. 

 And so... he kisses Taka again. Deep, meaningful. And he lets his hands wander. Taka lets out noises, enthusiastic and happy, but desperate, too. Needy. And Mondo thinks he knows why. Knows that Taka knows. That this isn’t okay. That neither of them is okay, but fuck, will they pretend they are. 

 As he slowly pulls down Taka’s briefs, doing his best to not psych himself out, he has a moment to think about how familiar this all feels to him. He’s never done anything like this with anyone, certainly not Taka, but as he grabs Taka in hand, listening as Taka lets out a loud shout, desperate and needy and fuck, he... he knows this is not the first time this has happened. He doesn’t know how he knows, but... but he does. Somehow, that thought comforts him. Greatly. 

 And when he feels Taka’s hands hesitantly touch him, trail over his body, and hesitantly remove his pants and his boxers, Taka trembling but oh so passionate and determined still... he wishes— not for the first time— that none of this had ever happened. That he’d never come to Hope’s Peak, that Taka had never come to Hope’s Peak. And he doesn’t wish that they’d never met, fuck he doesn’t wish that, but... but maybe they could have met somewhere else. Taka had mentioned once that his father is a police officer. Maybe... maybe they could have met during one of the times when Mondo was inevitably arrested, Taka visiting his father and seeing Mondo, but not feeling afraid, not at all. Maybe Taka would have spoken to Mondo, then, earnest as ever. Maybe he would have offered to help Mondo out, to help him leave his life of crime and settle into a good, meaningful life. And Mondo knows that if that had actually happened in real life, he’d have punched the kid’s lights out, but in this fantasy... in this fantasy, he accepts, and Taka smiles so beautifully at him, and they find a way to have their happy ending. Without this nightmare, without the threat of death looming over them even as they touch one another so softly, so gently, the first time they’ve ever done this but also not. 

 He pushes the thoughts aside as he gears up the courage to grab himself and Taka in hand together, Taka moaning loudly, Mondo moaning as well. Part of Mondo wants to go further, wants to take all of Taka, but he finds he can’t. Not when he knows what is going to happen in a few short hours. Not when... well. Not when. 

 But he allows himself this. Allows himself and Taka to build up a steady rhythm together, Taka practically sobbing as Mondo holds him close, shushing him even as he feels like he’s about to fall apart himself. He doesn’t know why Taka is crying, if he’s just overwhelmed or if he, too, realizes what this is. That this isn’t the first in a long line of times they will do things like this, but that it... it’s a goodbye, Mondo’s way of holding a part of Taka, even as he lets him go.

 Mondo doesn’t know what will happen in the trial, but as he holds onto Taka so desperately, he knows he will not be winning. He still is so afraid, doesn’t know if he will be brave enough to do what he knows he must, but... but he also knows he can’t be the reason Taka dies. He honestly would rather die than do that. It’s comforting to realize, in the oddest, strangest of ways. Death is so much easier to digest when he places it in the context of saving the man that he loves. And he does. Love him. So, so much...

 Eventually Mondo feels himself getting close, and feels that Taka is getting close too, so he allows himself to whisper into Taka’s ear. Whisper all the soft and gentle words he has kept hidden inside his heart his entire life, the words he’s always had to hide in order to survive the rough and dangerous lifestyle he was always forced to lead. He whispers how amazing Taka is, how Mondo is constantly astonished by how good and kind Taka is, how Taka is prolly the best person he has ever met. He whispers that he knows Taka will change the world, that he will be the best of all of them. That he already is. 

 And he... he whispers how much he loves him. How he knows it’s too soon to say shit like that, but that he- he means it. He also whispers his sneaking suspicion that this was not the first time they met, that he’s loved Taka far longer than just a handful of stressful, terrifying weeks, that they... that they belong together in a way that is intrinsic inside them both. 

 And while part of him is embarrassed by the words, thinking himself a weak and pathetic sap, the majority of him can’t find it in him to care. Not when Taka is letting out a shout, cumming against him while a few tears leak out of the corner of his eyes. And Mondo... Mondo is cumming not long after, collapsing on top of Taka, breath heaving as he rests, doing his best to not crush the love of his fucking life. 

 But Taka doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t seem to care at all, not when he leans up and whispers in Mondo’s ear. Voice shaking and trembling but still, always, endlessly determined. He whispers how he feels the same, that Mondo is the best person he has ever met. How, despite his gruff and harsh exterior, Taka has never met someone so kind and caring before. How he loves Mondo, too, more than he would ever think possible, certainly not after such a short amount of time. And how he, too, has the weird feeling that this was not the first time they’ve met, the first time they’ve fallen in love. 

 Taka asks him, then— voice small and trembling— if Mondo believes in reincarnation. If he thinks that... that they’ve lived a life together before, and that this is just them meeting up again. And that... that they will meet up again one day, in another life, far from Hope’s Peak and killing games and death that is both senseless and cruel. And Mondo doesn’t know, has never believed in an afterlife at all, but as he pulls back and looks down at Taka’s face, the boy looking so desperate and terrified, he... he can’t help how he smiles. And laughs. And leans down, kissing Taka again, the millionth time even if it really shouldn’t be. And he...

 He nods. He agrees. He says that yes, he does. He does believe in reincarnation and that they- they will find each other one day. Should they... well. Well. That one way or another, they will have their happy ending. He promises. He... he promises...

 He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed by the sappy words, the desperation he knows is plain in his words and eyes. He knows it’s getting so fucking late, knows that the fucking announcement will come soon and that the body will be discovered soon after, but... but he doesn’t want to leave. Never. Never. Never. He doesn’t want to think too much, doesn’t want to think about what will happen in a few short hours. Doesn’t want to let this one small piece of happiness he’s found get ruined because he couldn’t handle being fucking soft. 

 And so, he doesn’t. Doesn’t ruin it. He just lays down on his side, next to Taka, and pulls him close. They are naked, bodily fluids drying unpleasantly on their skin, but Mondo doesn’t care. He just pulls Taka close and holds him, Taka resting his head against Mondo’s chest again, like earlier, fingers tracing patterns on Mondo’s skin again and again and again. Mondo is exhausted, so tired, but he doesn’t close his eyes. Doesn’t let himself sleep, knowing that this is the first and last time he will ever get to hold Taka like this and wanting so badly to savor it. And- and he knows Taka feels the same. Knows that Taka doesn’t sleep either. And Mondo... Mondo wonders if he suspects. What Mondo did. The reason why Mondo is so scared. He thinks the Ultimate Moral Compass can’t possibly suspect, thinks that Taka would never be willing to be so close to him if he- if he knew— but. But...

 But... when the fucking announcement comes, seven coming way too fast for his own good... when he feels Taka stir sluggishly, the boy clearly not wanting to get up but his sense of duty likely making him... 

 Taka whispers to him. Soft. Gentle. As Mondo takes a washcloth and cleans them up, he hears Taka’s whispered words. And he... he... 

 “Please know, kyoudai, that I... I will always love you. No matter what happens. No matter... n-no matter what happens. Nothing will ever make me love you less. I swear, m-my... my love. I... I promise.” 

 Mondo stares at his kyoudai, heart beating both fast and slow, a contradiction that somehow makes perfect sense to him. He’s exhausted, hasn’t slept a wink all night, but for some reason, he’s not afraid. Oh, he knows he will be. Once the announcement is made that a body has been found. Once everyone is called to the girl’s locker room, once they see the dead body he left lying on the ground beside a splotch of bright pink blood. Then the fear will return. Bright and fierce and terrifying. He will mourn himself, mourn Chihiro, mourn everyone who is trapped in this sick and twisted death game.

 (But not Taka. He- he can’t mourn Taka, can’t let himself believe that this beautiful and wondrous boy will ever, ever die. Even if it’s so fucking likely, since like hell would Taka ever kill anyone. Maybe- maybe he’ll find a way out. Or whoever is keeping them here will realize how twisted they are and let him out. Or- something. Something. Even if it’s too late for Mondo, it won’t be for Taka. He- he knows this. Has to know this.)

 But for now... for now, he doesn’t worry about it. He just... lets himself exist, his heart beating for Taka and Taka alone. He doesn’t let himself think about what will come or what will happen. He just... loves Taka. Plain and simple.  

 So, he smiles. And he nods. And he whispers the same words back, even though it’s not the same, not the same at all. 

 He watches with all the fondness and love in his heart as Taka gets dressed in his ridiculously complicated uniform, aching for what he will never have, and yet yearns for dearly. He’s fighting the fear inside him as hard as he can, but once he is dressed in his clothes from the day before (he doesn’t care, fuck he doesn’t care) and Taka is in his uniform, it’s not like he can help it. The fear. The dread.

 It only gets worse when, right before they are able to leave the room together, they get accosted by Monokuma, who is being all vague and unhelpful, even going so far as to make insinuations about them, but one thing is clear. Something happened. Not that it’s a surprise to Mondo. He... he already knew that. 

 And... it seems Taka did, too. Mondo looks at him, the fear kicked up a hundred-fold, and sees that the kid’s face is a blank mask. Mondo has never seen Taka look so... emotionless before. It makes him nervous, but before he can ask if he’s alright, or maybe try and beg for the forgiveness that he knows he doesn’t deserve, Taka smiles at him. Bright and guileless, with no hint of strain. 

 (Mondo wouldn’t have suspected that Taka could be such a good liar. Perhaps, when it’s important. When it matters. When... when.) 

 “I think we should head to the bath, kyoudai. Before breakfast. I remember you mentioning how much you like morning baths!”

 Mondo stares at Taka for a full minute, heart aching, but Taka doesn’t seem to show he knows anything at all. And yet... Mondo knows he must know something. Taka is so big on rules and order. He is the one who insisted they all meet for breakfast every day. He wouldn’t miss that. Especially not when something clearly has happened. Not when... shit. 

 But Mondo doesn’t deny it. He just nods stiffly, his smile shaky on his lips. Taka smiles brightly back, before marching over to the door, opening it, and exiting quickly. Mondo stares after him for a moment before following, not wanting to waste a single second more. 

 The walk to the bath doesn’t take long and, thankfully, they don’t run into anyone as they make their way over. Once inside, Taka immediately goes to the men’s section of the bathhouse, not saying a word, but his back is loose, not tense. Not like Mondo’s is. 

 Mondo watches as Taka strips, his breath getting taken away as he sees the beautiful boy before him. He only is spurned into motion when Taka looks at him over his shoulder, head tilted curiously. Mondo strips quickly after that, very relieved that there are no security cameras around. He can feel Taka’s bright red eyes watching him as he removes his clothes, heart racing, doing all he can to pretend that this is okay. That this is normal.

 It isn’t. It can’t be, he knows it can’t, but if Taka is doing all he can to pretend, then... then so will he. 

 Taka insists that they quickly rinse off before entering the bath itself, as is polite, and once that is done, they enter the bath together, talking softly about random bullshit, light and easy. They don’t mention what Monokuma insinuated. They don’t mention anything like that at all. They stay close, practically touching, but they don’t do much more than that. Mondo knows that Taka wouldn’t approve, and he doesn’t want to pressure Taka into anything. Not ever. Especially not now.

 After a little while, they exit the bath, dressing in their uniforms again as soon as they are able. They then leave the bathhouse and head to Mondo’s room, since Mondo still has to make himself up. Part of him doesn’t really want to, as tired as he is, but he knows it would be suspicious if he didn’t. Plus... if this is going to be his last day alive (and it will, oh god, it will), then he might as well look presentable. Right? 

 It takes him the usual twenty minutes, during which Taka watches him, his body loose and his eyes soft. They talk again about everything and nothing, and for a moment, Mondo can pretend. Pretend that this is fine. Pretend that he’s okay. Pretend that he hadn’t... h-hadn’t... 

 But then the announcement comes. And his heart sinks. 

 They found the body. God fucking dammit, they found the body. 

 The next hour is a blur to him, Mondo following after an unusually quiet Taka in a daze. Mondo does his best to not show how terrified he is, but he thinks he fails. With Taka, at least. And Taka... Taka doesn’t do anything to show that he’s suspicious. He doesn’t give Mondo any looks, doesn’t frown... doesn’t really do much of anything, really. It makes Mondo feel disgusting inside, but... but he doesn’t know what to do. Goddammit, but he’s only sixteen! He... he didn’t fucking ask for this! Any of this! G-god... f-fuck...

 When he and Taka enter the girl’s locker room, Mondo wonders how he will be able to fake his shock when he feels so dead inside, but the minute he enters... he realizes he won’t have to fake shock. He won’t have to fake anything, really. 

 Because that... that is not how he left Chihiro’s body, holy fucking shit.

 W-what... who... who the fuck did that, he wonders, trying to mask the shock a little, hoping it looks like someone who is appalled at the disgusting way Chihiro is being suspended and not... not. Mondo... Mondo may have killed the dude (oh god), but he sure as shit hadn’t done this disrespectful bullshit. But who... who did...?

 For one split, heart stopping second, he wonders madly if Taka did it. If he... if he did it because he knew, he knew, he... he somehow knew and wanted to try and cover it up, or throw people off Mondo’s scent, or- or... something. Anything. 

 But he quickly dismisses that thought because a) it’s absurd, Taka is too fucking good and moral to do shit like that, b) Taka looks as shocked as all of them, and no matter how good he may be at acting, Mondo knows he’d fucking suck at covering up his own crime, and c) Mondo spent pretty much the entire night with Taka, going straight to his room after- fuck. After. So... definitely not Taka. But then... who...? He doesn’t know, fuck he doesn’t know. He can barely think, feeling so tired and scared and afraid. 

 (He had noticed Taka’s momentary look of relief, though. As soon as they entered. As soon as he saw the body. It had quickly morphed to sorrow and pain, but Mondo had seen the relief when Taka had glanced at him, and Mondo... Mondo thinks he knows why.)

 (After all.)

 (He sure as shit wouldn’t have done that monstrous bullshit to anyone. Least of all Chihiro. Anyone who knows him would know that. He may be a biker [and now a murderer], but he has more honor than that.)

 (And maybe... maybe, with that in mind... he could actually get away with this shit. F-fuck...)

 (Yeah, Taka would die, they’d all die, but... b-but...) 

 Mondo is volunteered to stand guard again with Ogami, the class assuming he’ll do it like he’d done last time, even though he really wants to be anywhere but here. Especially when Taka goes off, eyes determined, saying he’s going to find out who did this and see that they are brought to justice. Seems Taka has stopped suspecting him entirely, then. F-fuck... he can’t leave, though. It would be suspicious, especially since he was the one who volunteered last time. So, he... he doesn’t leave. He just... stays. Stomach sick, hating himself as much as ever, he… he stays. 

 The hour of the investigation is simultaneously the longest and shortest hour of his life. Shortest because he knows this will be the last hour of his life, his fear making time seem like it moves faster than it should. Longest since he’s trapped in the room with his fucking murder victim, forced to see the horrifying way some sick bastard had mangled the poor dude’s body, the worst disgrace in death. He wants to rip the poor dude off the bar, wants to show him the respect he fucking deserves, but he can’t. That detective chick is still observing the body, and if he does that, he will instantly be indicating himself. And- and while... while he knows he will be caught, should be caught, he... 

 He can’t help the goddamn fucking hope that is blooming inside him. The hope that he’ll be free. The hope that he might actually be able to escape this living nightmare. The hope that he... he could...

 Eventually the hour ends, and the class is forced into the goddamn fucking courtroom, and Mondo is forced to listen to the farce of a trial. It gets discovered relatively early who disrespected Chihiro’s body (revealing that fucking Fukawa is Genocide Jack. Or Jill. Or... whatever), but then... then it turns out it was Togami who mangled the dude’s body, for... whatever fucking reason that sick fucker had. Which infuriates the shit out of him, hating Togami almost as much as he hates Monokuma and himself, hating him for being so uncaring about someone being fucking dead. 

 Everyone latches onto the idea that it was Togami, though, even Taka, which shouldn’t relieve Mondo as much as it does, goddamn him, but... but...

 But of course. Fucking Naegi, that goddamn bastard... he has to be suspicious. And Mondo gets it, okay, he does. No one here actually wants to die. But... but he...

 In the end, it was a slip of the tongue. One mistake that will end up costing him his fucking life. He’s never put much thought into the words he says, the strain too frustrating for him to bother with, and it’s fucking fitting that that specific personality flaw is what kills him, in the end. 

 Blue. Fucking... blue. Blue was once a favorite color of his, though red has quickly been replacing it lately. But just... fucking blue. 

 Taka tries to deny it. Mondo thinks that’s what kills him the most. How desperately Taka tries to defend him. Refuting everything Naegi says. Denying it all. But Mondo had seen it, too. The doubt. The way the kid’s eyes had widened when the class caught onto his trail, darting over to Mondo quickly once, then away. The... the fear. The... all of it. Just... all of it. 

 But... but Mondo is tired of lying. He honestly hates lying, it makes his head hurt trying to hold onto so many tangled webs. And he didn’t get any sleep the previous night, anyway, and hasn’t eaten at all. And he’s just... tired. So very, goddamn tired...

 So... he gives up. He gives in. He confesses his truth, the deadly secret that he can’t ever undo, and it... it’s hard. Not even because he knows he’s signing his own death sentence, but because of Taka. Because of the anguish he sees on the kid’s face, tears and snot flowing freely down his beautiful face, not that Taka seems to care. The kid asks him why, and he... it’s the least he can do. To confess. To just... explain. 

 And that hurts, too. All of this just... it hurts. But it’s not a sharp and angry pain. It’s like... pressure. Inside him. He... he killed someone. Someone who had trusted him. Someone who had admired him. He... even if he had survived, he’d never have been able to live with himself. Not in the long run. Especially not if his cowardice led to the death of so many others. Of Taka. He may be a monster, but he... he’s not that much of a monster. 

 So... this was for the better, he thinks, heart aching as that fucking bear reveals his secret anyway, the one he’d been willing to murder to keep safe. He finishes his confession, tells everyone what he did and why, and it… fuck, it’s hard, but it’s the absolute least he can do. He keeps looking at Taka even through the pain, through his final confession, even though Taka cannot look at him. Taka hadn’t voted for Mondo, hadn’t been able to do it, the bear had said. That breaks him even more, honestly. F-fuck...

 And then... before he knows it, it... it’s time. Punishment time. And Mondo... Mondo finds that he’s not as scared as he thought he would be. He apologizes to Taka, the kid looking absolutely destroyed, and it’s not enough. It’s never enough; can’t ever be enough. He has so many words to say, declarations and apologies and promises. In the end, he has time for none of it. But he... he does get one thing in. Other than his apology. Other than... than...

 “See you in the next life, Taka. Hope it ain’t anytime soon.” 

 Mondo isn’t able to hear Taka’s response to that, as he’s too busy getting dragged off by that goddamn fucking bear. He does his best to appear calm as he is chained to the back of a motorcycle, as that goddamn bear sits in the driver’s seat, wearing a mockery of his uniform. His heart is pounding, and he knows this is it. It’s like the moment before his brother pushed him out of the way all over again, but this time... this time there is no last-minute rescue. This time there is no freedom, no release. This time... 

 This time he... he dies.

 But... well. 

 At least he dies on a fucking hog, like he always imagined he would. 

 There’s some measure of comfort in that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So, that’s the story! I think y’all can kind of see why I didn’t want to write this how I normally write. And I’m sure y’all picked up on this, but yes, them feeling like they knew each other was definitely because of the memory loss. I have a degree in psychology. I learned a ton about memory during school, and one thing is that memory is located in so many places it’s almost impossible to completely lose all of your memory. Even if you lose your episodic memory (your memory of personal events, like birthday parties or what you did last month), you tend to keep your semantic memory (your memory of facts and things, like what the Pythagorean theorem is, or who Napoleon is) as well as some sense memory. Mondo and Taka were totally a Thing before the killing game. I honestly don’t believe in reincarnation, but I think it was comforting to Taka and Mondo to think about. 

(It also would make seeing Alter Ego Mondo so much worse, oof.) 

This story, technically, could fit into canon, I think. I even rewatched Mondo’s death to make sure, and while some things were a bit off, I tried to keep things mostly like in canon. The only real difference was Mondo’s last words to Taka, I think. 

Anyway, I hope y’all liked it! Let me know if you liked the format and maybe I’ll do more things like this to get more ideas out. I have one in the works, tentatively, so we’ll see. Bye! :-D