#babygirl you are so plagued with guilt

[bravevolunteer]

oh also i HAVE to post this too because it's so deranged. mike there is something so deeply wrong with you. you know you don't HAVE to do that to yourself right. you can hang up some posters or something. he's literally doing the push-ups BECAUSE he hates it. i can't keep defending you against the masochism allegations if you keep ACTING LIKE THIS.

[qi-rong-enjoyer]

putting pei ming under a microscope and psychonalyzing him.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Joel Miller fluffy blurb with the prompt 'Whose blood is that?’

Maybe some hurt comfort?

Uh Duh. This is so cute. I had to use the emotions from this episode to bring out extra feels LOL

I step out into the cold air with Ellie under my arm, her quiet sobs making my heart break as we step further away from the burning building, tears flowing down both of our cheeks. I look down at my red hands with guilt consuming me but I keep repeating to myself 'you did what you had to do'.

Suddenly I feel a hand on my shoulder and I whip around, ready to fight as Ellie reaches out to punch at the mans chest who I soon realize is Joel.

He looks to me with frantic eyes as he soothes Ellie to the point of breaking, loud sobs escaping her as he cradles her head. "I've got you babygirl. It's okay." He whispers, eyes not leaving mine for one second as my bottom lip wobbles.

"Whose blood is that?" Joel asks me, all of a sudden drenched in worry as he reaches out to me, not letting Ellie out of his grasp as he takes my hand in his, squeezing it to bring me back to reality, my hazy eyes struggling to focus in on him.

"He tried to-"

"He's dead." I cut Ellie off, wiping my hands off on the tops of my thighs as Joel's eyes lower to look at the red staining my cargo pants. Without another word, he pulls me into his arms alongside Ellie, both of our sobs filling the air with the sound of crackling fire in the background.

I suck in a desperate breath and I feel a hand on the back of my head, soothing me in the best and only way Joel knows how to, knowing how much I need him close, touching me, when I'm losing myself in the darkness that consumes us.

"I've got you." He whispers, pressing a simple kiss to the top of my head and I let out a breath I was holding onto, the images of the past twenty minutes flashing through my mind, reminding me of the horror that Ellie and I endured at the hands of that vile man.

I look up at Joel, leaning into the hand that he places on my cheek, cradling me as if I were made of glass. His eyes are worried, flickering across my expression frantically to look for any sign of distress but it's all internal, swarming my mind like the plague that takes hold of the infected.

"I've got you." He repeats and I nod, feeling a tear roll down my cheek and onto his thumb that sweeps it away and I feel Ellie's eyes on us. I reach out to her, tucking her head in the crook of my neck as she lets out a shuttered breath whille Joel leads us away from the burning building behind us.

Ashes to ashes.

[m1d-45]

i am putting the recent xiao pieces in my mouth as we speak and they are DELICIOUS. do i feel bad for xiao? yes, of course, he is my babygirl. HOWEVER i love it so much when characters are plagued by guilt and turmoil. i would say it’s my guilty pleasure but that would imply that i feel guilty about it which i do not. anyways! love ur work, chef’s kiss, i am well-fed - teddy anon

i’m very glad you enjoyed them!

xiao is my babygirl as well but like…. sometimes you just gotta rip them open with the thing they hate most you know? like…… sometimes you just gotta undermine their whole system of beliefs and watch them collapse. insert the name of that one phenomena that essentially means “it’s awful but i can’t look away” here. that’s what i’m referring to.

and thanks for the compliments!

[sacredsnape]

I love your writing. ❤️❤️

Some romantic headcanons/one shot/whatever: Sev and her have 2 kids and another on the way. And he buy a big manor near London as surprise and thanks to their family for giving him maening to his life.

Thanks darling 💖

thank you for loving my writing, it really means a lot to me c:

summary: snape has had a very tough life but you've made up for it, giving him so much joy, love, and the family he's always wanted, and he finds the ultimate way to repay you.

snape lives!au, post battle of hogwarts

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of a near death experience

link to masterlist

you've nearly lost snape plenty of times over the years - whether it was from him having his life threatened by other death eaters, or barely surviving nagini's venom during the battle of hogwarts - you've learned to hold snape closer than ever to your heart.

when you had first heard about him nearly dying during the battle, you completely broke, stunned that you had come so close to losing the man you loved.

what made you even more emotional was that you were carrying yours and snape's first child at the time, and it broke you to think that your child could've possibly grown up without a father.

snape ultimately survived yet he was plagued by survivor's guilt and paranoia, which you helped him through. to snape, you were like a lifesaver, and you helped keep him sane as he healed both mentally and physically.

today, you and snape had two children - daughters ages two and three. your third child, another girl, would be arriving in just a few weeks and snape was so excited that it was all he could talk about these days.

"i think we should continue with the theme of nature related names," snape told you one night as you and him laid in bed, his warm hands soothingly rubbing your baby bump. "we already have juniper and aspen ...how about daisy? daisy would be cute."

"daisy sounds lovely," you agreed with a smile. "let me guess, you're going to buy her her own little cloak so she can match with you, like how you did with juniper and aspen."

"obviously," snape chuckled, gasping when he suddenly felt your babygirl kick. "i'm going to assume that her kick means that she's eager to match with her daddy."

he then yawned, cuddling closer you. snape often found himself getting really sleepy around you, especially out of nowhere. he once heard that it was because his inner child felt safe around you, which he strongly believed to be the case.

"sleep, my prince," you whispered to snape as you stroked his beautiful, thick hair. "you had a long day today."

snape sleepily mumbled something in response that you couldn't quite catch, slowly pressing a kiss to your neck before sighing happily.

you kept carding your fingers through his hair until you fell asleep yourself, having wonderful dreams full of snape.

---

you woke up the next morning to find the bed empty.

confused, you got out of bed, wondering where snape could've gone. you glanced over at the alarm clock and saw that it was a quarter to seven; the kids would be getting up any minute now.

just like you predicted, you heard the soft patter of your daughters' footsteps trekking down the hallway. you smiled and joined them in the hallway, grabbing both of their hands and taking them to the bathroom so you all could get ready for the day.

you heard the front door close and poked your head out of the bathroom, seeing snape walking inside the house with a big smile on his face.

"where were you?" you asked your husband as he walked over to you and the girls, who instantly left your side to go greet him.

snape grinned down at them and scooped them up into his arms, kissing their foreheads before replying, "somewhere. it's um...a surprise. you and the girls should get something to eat to go."

you raised your eyebrows at him and shrugged, nodding. snape wasn't usually one to plan surprises, so you were curious to see what he had in store.

snape didn't eat anything until you convinced him to; he was too excited to eat much, so he just had some toast and an apple.

you, snape, and the girls traveled using a ministry registered vehicle. neither you or snape wanted the girls to travel using the floo network or a portkey until they were older, and it was lucky that you and snape both knew how to drive.

"it's not far from here," snape told you as he helped you buckle juniper and aspen into their car seats, kissing their foreheads again.

you kissed their foreheads as well before getting into the passenger's seat, which snape had enchanted to be extra roomy for your baby bump.

"can i have a hint as to where we're going?" you hopefully asked snape as he started the engine.

"nope," snape bluntly said, causing you to frown. he then smiled at you and said, "it's worth waiting for."

"it better be," you teased him as snape pulled out of the driveway. he side eyed you and then laughed, glancing at the rear view mirror, seeing that juniper and aspen were busy playing with their mini broomsticks and making them zoom around the backseat.

snape was right; it wasn't too far at all. about a few minutes before you arrived, snape told you and the girls to close your eyes. of course, juniper and aspen started asking a dozen questions about why they had to close their eyes, but they did it anyways.

you felt the car come to a halt and heard fhe car doors open, feeling snape grab your hands and get you outside before he did the same with juniper and aspen.

snape carefully walked you and the girls down the path leading to your new home, smiling widely as he positioned the three of you in front of it.

"okay, you can open your eyes now," snape happily said, and you opened your eyes to reveal an elegant manor standing before you.

juniper and aspen immediately made a beeline for the swing set sitting in the front garden, giggling with joy.

"sev," you softly said, reaching for his hands and holding, feeling tears gathering in your eyes. "when did you buy this?"

"last month," he excitedly told you. "i left early this morning to come and double check that everything was ready."

"sev," you said again, too amazed to say anything more. you tightly hugged him, smiling into his neck.

"it's my way of thanking you and the girls for making me so happy and giving me a reason to keep going," he said to you, causing you to pull back from his neck.

"oh gosh, i love you so much," you grinned, dabbing your eyes with your sleeve. "i can't wait to raise our family here."

snape kissed your forehead several times and nodded in agreement, resting his chin on the top of your head as he happily watched juniper and aspen play before you and him joined them.

[densewentz]

personal ranting about insufferable morality about vengeance in fiction lol

now im mostly talking about stories involving Big grievances like “you burned my entire family alive/ youve abused/enslaved me since i was a child/ you destroyed everything ive ever loved” etc. not like. the “you gave me a dirty look once at a party so now im a supervillain” stuff marvel pulls but like look maybe its just me but i am so sick of "if you do this you’re just as bad as they are!” self-righteous, aggrandizing hero stories and their didactic moral superiority and unsatisfying slog endings where loose threads are left hanging. i want the vengeance. i want the pyrrhic amoral victory. i want the unapologetic emotional response to trauma and for the damaged party to take their rightful due without guilt. Whether that means physically destroying something, refusing to help someone, killing an asshole, etc i do not care. all are valid and are much more fascinating to explore than this bland-ass forced change/acceptance we always get saddled with.

“vengeance isn’t satisfying” my ass. There is no greater relief than a ghost laid to rest and a tiger off your back. i want to see a damaged character burn their antagonist to the ground and smile up at the sky because finally finally they can breathe. And it’ll still hurt. the breath will still rattle in their lungs. but for at least a moment the weight is gone. bonus points if for once we can have a character put an end to their tormentor without every other character suddenly acting like they’re a monster now for not showing mercy to a merciless creature. “but everyone deserves a second chance!” look okay. i get it. its a nice sentiment. but everyone deserves a first chance. and if you use yours to destroy someone else’s that’s called forfeit. if you want to grant a second chance to your own demons then go ahead, but no one has the right to demand for someone else to pardon theirs. moreover half the time some shitheel hero says this, 20 minutes later the aforementioned villainous entity is back to being a grade-a asshole again, and MORE innocent people suffer because the heroes were too ‘good�� to do what needed to be done to protect people who couldnt protect themselves (im looking at you, Once Upon a Time). “but revenge isnt the answer” okay but sometimes it is though, babygirl. it might not be the most morally upstanding answer, nor a universal one, but in terms of specific characters sometimes that cumulation and release of every emotional bodyblow theyve been dealt is what they need. particularly in fiction where we actually HAVE the option to explore less lawful means of holding accountability. and idk if its because im not plagued by Catholic Guilt™ or what but there is nothing more satisfying than seeing someone deservedly get theirs. hubris and karma are delicious, moreso when delivered by an injured party. even MORESO if that injured party isnt then made out to be somehow worse than the original villain now because of it.  long story short: please god everyone once and a while just chill tf out and let fictional characters absolutely lay waste to whatever antagonist plagues them and feel good about it after. and ffs unless its really off the rails you dont have to immediately call it ‘dark’ whoever babes. stop being the ‘bigger’ person and you’re left with just a person. and sometimes that can be much more satisfying and liberating to relate to. 

[ramblerogue]

BLORBO ZONE 👀 10, 18, 21, 24?

AAAAA ENTERING THE BLORBO ZONE!!! Thank you so much for sending these in!!! :')

10. is the hottest?

OHOHO a scholar's question!! See, I have to mention Sandra because she is the quintessential Sexy Demon Lady That I Like To Draw In All Manor Of Hot Outfits. Like that's her whole deal!! She's very hot and pretty and I like her (And she's definitely the most popular of my OCs if we're going by tumblr notes LMAO) HOWEVER.... I do want to throw a bit of a curveball for this question because honestly, I think one of the hottest OCs for ME... would be Arizona! I think I'm just a sucker for a big ole buff, scruffy, cowboy lady!! She's 100% a catch and it's a crime that I don't draw her more! (I SHOULD CHANGE THAT...)

18. needs the most therapy?

OH A LOT OF THEM DO.... hmmm, I'm gonna go with Tiller on this one just because of All The Shit happening to her right now PFPFDSJGSDHLG. She Definitley needs to unpack some PTSD on accounts of almost being murdered Several times, seeing and killing an illusion of her lost crew/mayday, and now being the cause of a magic sickness plaguing her dragon mom and siblings. Also probably counseling for the fact that she, herself, has what's essentially a terminal illness and miss babygirl has been having LOTS of thoughts about mortality and guilt and the people she's "leaving behind" in general. (We're GOING to cure her, I'm HOPING she's not sick for much longer!!) Along with all that, Tiller has a tendency to want to carry the emotional burden of her friends (whether they want her to or not), because she thinks that solving OTHER people's problems is better than focusing on her own SO! YEAH! Please Tiller... my sweet girl.... go talk to somebody.

21. is the best cook?

This might be a deep-cut for some of y'all, but Eva! She was a paladin I played in a sci-fi campaign and out of all my characters, she... probably had her life the MOST together. And that includes cooking!! I think she would enjoy picking up cooking as like... a hobby and something to improve at! And she'd definitely be the type to invite her friends over to try out new recipes and/or bring stuff into work for her team to eat!

24. would win a battle royale with all the others?

OH NO, THIS QUESTION MAKES ME SO SAD ;;-;; .... Just to cope better, I'm going to say this battle royale is just whoever would win a series of duels where no one actually DIES! Regardless, I'm pretty sure the winner would have to be Aubrey. For one, she's my highest level character, and she's also an Undying Warlock. She literally can't die!! I think some of my gals would put up a good fight (Arizona, Eva, un-cursed Tiller), but even if they got her down for a little bit, she'd just pop those bones back into place and get back up! Unfortunately, Aubrey does NOT deserve to win at all LMFAO

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Secure

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Smut (slightly dominant reader in this one), swearing, some ptsd?

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Part five is finally out! I have about four or five more parts planned so far, if anyone has any ideas for future ones or any requests at all never be afraid to inbox!

The Mandalorian’s Love Series

(Oof)

...

Din had absolutely become insatiable since the last incident. His protectiveness over her and the baby had increased, that was for sure. Y/N had to talk to him about his constant eye, but at the same time she didn’t mind it, understood why he was more alert. He bought her a new set of armor, not nearly as good as his beskar, couldn’t find enough credits for it, but it would have to do for now, and even began training with her again; she actually really loved that comeback, for different reasons of course.

But most of all it was hard to get him off her. Din became more confident in that area the more time they spent together – although she was aware that it was mainly to ensure himself that she was still there – and it was getting to the point where he couldn’t even wait to get her back on to the Razor Crest. It sent a rush of excitement through her veins whenever he would pull her to an abandoned alley, push her up against the wall, and take her where anyone could see them.

The blaster shot not only affected Din, but Y/N as well, his words repeating in her head after their passionate lovemaking. The guilt from their fight from that night swept over her as she thought them over. The new nightmares that now plagued her mind daily showed from the dark circles under her eyes; the feel of the blaster shot piercing her skin, the face of the young, deceiving gunslinger was a constant reminder of what could have been. Din didn’t want to cause another fight between them, and so he did his best to comfort her, soothe the nightmares away with gentle touches and soothing words as she did with him, and to listen; she’d talk to him when she was ready.

This time Y/N stayed on the ship with the Child while the Mandalorian went to collect a small bounty. There were no problems on their end, she played with the baby most of the time before putting him down for a nap. When she heard the ramp to the Razor Crest open she got into a defensive stance, pulling out her weapon before she heard the familiar thumps of his boots enter the ship. With a sigh she set her blaster down and went to greet him. She found him down in the hull of the ship, barely getting a word out before the man was on her.

Ever since he felt her touch against his bare skin for the first time he hated putting his armor on around Y/N. It closed him out, closed out her inviting heat to his thirsty skin. But times like these would have to do. It was a stressful day, such a small job causing such a big problem for him, and it was barely enough money to get by and he needed her. Needed her to help him forget, to feel almost human again. And she was wearing a fucking dress today; the planet they were on experiencing a heat wave, even Din sweating horribly underneath his armor. He probably should’ve waited until he had gotten cleaned up, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care in the moment.

The dress was a plain gray, but it still looked so beautiful on her, hugging her curves in all the right ways. He could see some sweat glistening on her collarbone, between her breasts’, down the calves of her legs. He pushed her against the wall of the ship, being mindful of his armor as he placed one hand on her throat, barely putting any weight on it but the message was clear: stay. The other he placed at her mouth, pointer finger tracing her lips. Y/N knew what he was asking for and opened her mouth, tongue inviting and swirling and sucking on his finger, causing him to let out a choked groan. She finally took mercy and bit down on the glove, Din pulling back to slip his hand out of the glove and dive straight for her wet center.

Y/N moaned as he teased his middle finger around her swollen clit, coming close to begging before he circled it. She bit her lip, struggling to keep quiet as to not wake the baby. He trailed his fingers down to her soaking lips, almost moaning in response; usually he’d drag this out, making sure she was begging and withering under him for his cock, but that would have to wait until later. Pushing her panties to the side and helping her fumbling hands with his belt, he growled lowly as her hand circled his girth, swiping her thumb over the head of his leaking tip. Swatting her hand away, he swiftly turned her around, placing her front against the wall of the ship. Arching her back and running a hand down the length of her spine, he placed his forehead against her right shoulder and slid in, making them both moan sweetly. He immediately started a rough pace, gripping her hips as if his life depended on it. She deepened her arch, taking him in deeper as a result. The cool beskar armor felt amazing against her hot, sweaty skin and added more into the euphoria she was already feeling.

“Don’t stop,” Y/N begged, legs starting to shake. “Kriff Din you feel so good inside me.”

Din gritted his teeth, already so close to his orgasm, but he needed her to come first. Their breathless gasps and moans filled the ship,

“Fuck,” Din’s voice was ragged, desperate with release. “Touch yourself, babygirl. I want to see you.”

The words alone made her walls flutter around him. Before she could even move her hand, they heard the clatter of something dropping above them, followed by a small little coo. Scrambling to cover up, Y/N had barely fixed her underwear and pulled her dress down before the small little devil in question popped into view. The Mandalorian wanted to scream at the interruption as he fixed his belt, sighing heavily in frustration.

“We’re really pushing our luck with him,” he muttered. “He’s gonna catch us pretty soon.”

Y/N let out a tired giggle. He felt her hand caress his ungloved hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Later,” she whispered.

…

Din hated this idea. But they needed the credits and this one of the closest options they had. Y/N had heard about the people the Mandalorian used to work with and knew that he wasn’t particularly fond of them now.

“This is a bad idea,” the Mandalorian mindlessly said to the Child next to him in the cockpit.

Once Ran’s space station came into view Din’s heart started to pick up.

“Before you say anything,” Y/N said when Din turned his seat towards her. “I’m coming with. You already said that you don’t really trust these people and we’re not going to have a repeat of last time.”

She did not want to tell him that she was also scared, scared that she might not be able to revert back to her old self, to the self that was able to stand in front of an enemy without the fear or flashbacks. How she couldn’t even enjoy a drop of the glittery drinks she would try at the cantina’s they would visit anymore. She needed to try, to take it into her own hands now.

Din had spent years being able to his emotions and even body language from the general public, but it was hard to with her, the woman who had broken down most of his barriers. She immediately felt guilty for the last part when she saw him audibly flinch, but it needed to be said. She couldn’t let him go alone again when he needed the help. She could see that he wanted to argue before sagging with acceptance.

It only took two steps for him to stand in front of her, placing a hand on the back of her neck and placing his forehead on hers before going to secure the Child into their room; Y/N only recently found out that that was the equivalence of a kiss, of showing his love for her.

To be honest, Y/N was sort of excited and nervous at the same time to see this part of Din Djarin’s life rather than just hearing it; she had wished, though, that it was under different circumstances.

“Mando!” They both turned, seeing an old acquaintance and a short man with long, shaggy hair all around.

“Is that you under that bucket?” Ran teased, reaching out to shake his hand, eyeing up Y/N as he did so. “I was surprised when I heard from you. And who might this be?”

“Y/N.” She introduced before Din could say. “Partner of his.”

“Partner huh?” the man teased. The Mandalorian said nothing, only waiting to hear the details of their job.

“Well this was supposed to be a five-man job, but one more wouldn’t hurt. Follow me.”

Din was a little tense next to Y/N as they followed Ran, and it took everything in her to stop herself from holding his hand; she had to clench her fist to stop the twitching of her muscles.

“What’s the job?” the Mandalorian asked, voice stoic as it used to be before Y/N.

“Got one of our associates in a foul of some competitors and got himself caught. So we’re gathering a crew to break him.”

Y/N wanted to ask who this associate was but remembered Ran’s ‘no questions asked’ policy he had been quick to remind once questions started rolling and pierced her lips in a thin line. Din grinned under the helmet, being with her for as long as he had been, he knew questions were brewing from the woman trialing behind him.

“And you got a ship too, only reason why I let you back in here,” Ran told him.

The Mandalorian and Y/N both tensed. “The ship isn’t part of the deal,” he said, a warning growl laced behind his words.

“That Razor Crest is the only reason on why you both have a job,” Ran argued.

Din was shooting glares that could kill, and Ran could sense his agitation. He answered it with a laugh, leveling with the silver man.

“Is that gratitude under there?” Ran pointed, squinting his eyes at him.

It took everything in Y/N not to punch him in the face and be done with the job. If it weren’t for the baby on the ship, she probably would’ve.

“I think it is.” Ran was still chuckling when he walked away, towards the direction they had just walked in.

The Mandalorian was still tense when he turned around, giving Y/N a look before following. Y/N should’ve just stayed on the ship.

“Hey Mayfield,” Ran called out.

A man bent over some sparks looked up, raising his eyebrows at the approaches’.

“Yeah?”

“This is Mando, and his partner Y/N,” Ran introduced to him.

Y/N ignored Mayfield’s trailing eyes over her body, doing a poor job of concealing his interest, but Din made a mental note to take care of him later.

“This is the man I was telling you about,” Ran continued. “The one we did all those jobs with then. We were all just young, trying to make a name for ourselves but travelling with a Mandalorian? Brought us our reputation.”

Mayfield crossed his arms over his chest, sizing the Mandalorian.

“Yeah? And what did he get out of it?” Mayfield asked.

Ran chuckled. “That’s what I used to think. You remembered what you said?” He turned towards Din, who Y/N could see was clenching his fists and – she had gotten very good at reading his body language, a seemingly whole new language Y/N had to create and learn – it seemed as though he was trying to hide from her, worried of her reaction.  

“Target practice,” Ran answered for him, laughing.

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realize she was holding. She wanted to take it back immediately once seeing Din twitch. She was a little shocked, yes. She had seen him angry and frustrated before, and they had their little fights and arguments, but never once was she afraid of him hurting her; it wasn’t that kind of fear that sometimes washed over her when she saw Din in those moments; could see the ruthless bounty hunter most were afraid of. It was fear that one day it would get him killed, that one day it would consume him entirely if something were to happen to her or the Child. It was the fear that maybe she’ll never truly know Din Djarin, that he would always hide parts of himself from her. Y/N looked at these as irrational fears in some moments, it was just her anxiety trying to get the better of her. Besides, it’s not like she was completely innocent herself.

“We did some crazy stuff, didn’t we?”

“That was a long time ago,” Din finally said, voice a little hoarse.

“Well I don’t really go out anymore,” Ran sounded a little disappointed from the lack of the old Mandalorian he used to work with. “So Mayfield is the main point. What he says will be coming from me, do you get that?”

Y/N and Din looked to each other, and even without seeing his face, they could still have their silent conversations. Mayfield looked annoyed but still smug as they looked back to him, the Mandalorian studying him.

“You tell us.”

There was a small moment of silence, the tension so thin you could slice through it. Ran, the one who seemed to have the most fun out of this situation so far, broke it with another laugh.

“Haven’t changed at all, Mando. And your girl, I can sense some spunk in her too.”

“Yeah, well,” Mayfield interrupted. “Things have changed around here.”

Mayfield glared back at the Mandalorian was he walked away, stopping only to check Y/N out some more when Ran stole his attention away. Y/N met his eyes, wrinkling her face in disgust when he gave her a small smirk, carefully listening to Ran’s and the Mandalorian’s conversation.

“That’s not saying much.”

Y/N giggled at the joke, enjoying Mayfield’s offense to it. They were introduced to Berg, who was eager to show off his bulky body and powerful strength, not wasting any time in showing off and trying to intimidate both the outsiders. They were both unfazed, used to being in the face of danger on a daily.

“I thought you said there were four?”

Y/N knew it was taking everything in him not to scream. She told herself to stay calm and focused not only for herself, but for Din as well; she knew it took a lot for him to return to this part of his life and wanted to be there with him every step of the way. He would probably say this later, but a part of him was happy that she was there with him; her presence alone was a constant reminder of the man he bettered himself to be and the people he loved and needed to protect.

“There are,” a voice answered from behind.

They all turned towards the source. It was a woman – Twi’lek to be exact – twirling a small knife between her fingers with a smirk aimed only to the Mandalorian.

“Hello Mando,” she greeted.

“Xi’an,” Din breathed in shock.

Y/N looked back and forth between the two of them, not liking the way the mysterious woman was looking at him; like they were well familiar with each other and she was beginning to be hungry for more. She knew he had others before, he could feel his blush under her palms when she held his face as he told her before their first time; it didn’t bother her, she had others as well, but actually seeing them was a different ball game.

Xi’an started to circle him now. “Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand?”

Not giving Din any time to answer, she rushed forward, placing a knife at this throat. Y/N flinched, hand twitching towards her belt that concealed her knifes and blaster. Din, on the other hand, didn’t move a muscle.

“Nice to see you too.”

They all gave out a chuckle, sans Y/N and Din, Xi’an’s being particularly pitched as she moved away.

“I missed you,” she almost purred.

Her eyes finally fell onto the new woman, making a noise of surprise before turning.

“And who’s this?”

“Partner,” Din answered curtly before Y/N could open her mouth. “Y/N, she’s my partner.”

Y/N wanted to glare at him, but kept her eyes trained on the woman in front of her as she grinned mischievously.

“Partner, huh?” Echoing Ran’s earlier remark at their play. She didn’t sound convinced. “Forgot about me so quickly?”

Din could see the annoyance and jealously radiating from Y/N, as he was sure the others could sense as well. He hated putting her in this position. It was killing him seeing her doubtful, and – though it would take some work to get her to admit it – jealous and hurt. In the beginning of their new relationship, friendship even, Y/N would have her doubts on whether she was good enough to be travelling with the Mandalorian; she used to feel so out of place in his world, so incompetent. It took several speeches to assure her otherwise.

…

The teasing didn’t stop even when they were on their way to the prison. Xi’an and Mayfield were doing everything in their power to make sure that Din and Y/N were both jealous and angry. And when Mayfield not only touched but dropped the baby when in turbulence? They never wanted to hurt someone as much as they do in that moment. Leaving the Child on the ship alone with the droid wasn’t easy, even for Y/N. She rubbed Din’s back as he looked back, feeling the anxiety of the situation settling in.

Once inside they showed the hunters why they were partners in the first place. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk when Xi’an would notice how Din stood over her, how their movements together were as fluid and swift as ocean waves. She received a hiss in response.

But really, considering everything leading up to the moment of treachery, they should have seen this coming. Xi’an pushed her in first, Din pulling out his gun and before getting pushed in himself, causing him to fire a round into the closed off cell. The red dot blasted off everywhere in the room, magically missing them entirely before finding a spot to stay in.

Y/N sat against the wall as Din stood by the cell door, cursing as they laughed and left. She was frozen, breathing heavily as she saw flashes of Calican’s gun pointed at her blindly, could hear the shot of it as if it was happening all over again. The old scar throbbed under her skin, she was starting to sweat, and she had to close her eyes to stop more of the flashbacks from reappearing. The Mandalorian turned around at the sound of her breathing and his heart sank when he put two and two together, quietly crouching down by her side.

“Y/N?” He asked softly, careful not to jolt her. “Y/N, honey. Can you hear me?”

His voice sounded like he was in the next room, like it was through the walls, but she nodded her head anyway.

“Okay, I need you to take a deep breath and focus on my voice. Can you do that for me?”

Another nod. She took a shaky first inhale and a shaky exhale, could hear Din doing the same thing next to her with a hand on her shoulder, guiding her. After a few more inhales and exhales she started to calm, listening to the soothes coming from his modulated voice, still lovely as ever.

“I’m gonna find us a way out of here,” he calmly explained. “Once I do, I want you to go back onto the ship. Please don’t argue with me about this.”

Y/N didn’t have in her to and didn’t want to leave the Child on the ship alone any longer, so she agreed. She let him help her up on shaky legs, making sure she was okay to stand on her own before going back to the door. She watched as he waited for a droid to walk back, whipping his rope out to wrap around the arm of the droid and reel him to the door, struggling while he pulled the arm off.

“Okay,” the Mandalorian breathed out once the door was open. “Good to go?”

Y/N grabbed the blaster, nodding in confirmation. He took a step out before stopping, quickly grabbing her wrist to pull her over, placing his forehead on hers briefly before disappearing down the hallway. Sneaking away to the Razor Crest was easier than she thought – though she did receive some help from the Mandalorian watching the cameras – and quietly entered the ship, ears alert for any signs of life. Hearing the quiet little gurgle of the baby prompted her to move faster, climbing up to the cockpit where the droid had its back turned to her, gun aimed at the Child. With no hesitation, she aimed her gun at the droid and shot. Seeing the look on the Child’s face made her want to laugh, and she assumed he tried to use whatever he had against the robot; she was just happy he was safe.

…

“No questions asked, right?”

Ran was taken back before he cracked a smile. “Girl learns quick,” he mused.

“Yeah.” Was all Din said.

Y/N boarded the Razor Crest after their exchange feeling drained but happy with the outcome all the same. Sitting in the co-pilots seat to his left, the Child on his right, she felt a breath of relief whenever the X-wings flew past them to Ran’s station. Sending the ship into hyperspace, Din let out a sigh as he leaned back in his chair, unscrewing the metal back from the handle to hand to the baby.

“I told you that was a bad idea,” he said to him. The Child reached his hand out, taking the ball graciously. Y/N smiled at the image in front of her.

“I’m going to clean up a little,” she said to Din, getting up from her chair.

“Are you okay?”

Y/N stopped in her tracks, nodding her head at him. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just…”

“I know,” his voice cracked.

“We’ll talk after I get cleaned,” she said. “I promise.”

Din wanted to talk to Y/N, hoping that everything was still okay between them. He was afraid of her seeing his past self, and Xi’an didn’t make it any better, her words echoing in his head.

“I’ll make sure to take good care of you new toy, Mando,” Xi’an had threatened as he placed her in her new cell. “Spare her before you ruin her.”

He had to remind himself that Y/N and the Child were waiting for him. That Y/N was an adult, they had this conversation plenty of times.

And he knew what she went through in that cell, and it made him see red; it was hard keeping his emotions in check, this was about her, not him, but gods did his heart break and blood boil when he saw her pale face, frozen in shock from the blaster.

When he saw the Child blink his eyes tiredly, he got up to put him to bed, going back to his seat afterwards and thinking about what to say to her.

“You have nothing to worry about.”

Din jumped a little but hid it well, turning his head to indicate he heard her. She was in a comfortable long sleeve shirt and light pants now, barefoot as she walked towards his seat. He turned until she was in front of him and rested his head against her stomach, wishing that it was her hand running over his hair rather than his helmet.

“I’m sorry about Xi’an,” he croaked out. “And what happened in the cell. I should’ve known-.”

“Stop,” she told him softly. “None of that was your fault. I know it bothered you just as it did me, even a little bit more.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, not sure if I want to do anything like that again.”

“We’ll probably have to,” she whispered. “But we’ll get through it. We always do.”

He liked that she always said ‘we’, made it easier to get through the days knowing that she was always by his side by the end of the day.

“Din,” she sighed, climbing onto his lap. Din instinctively placed his hands on her hips, tilting his head at her.

“I know that was hard for you, going back to that and allowing me to see that part of your past. But I really do appreciate it, and so does the Child. And I don’t see you any differently than before. You’re still my Din Djarin. Nothing you can do will make me hate you or cower away from you.”

Din was always shocked to hear those kinds of words from anyone for that matter, let alone Y/N. She was his beacon of light, his love, his hope, and maker it felt as if all his worries and troubles evaporated from them.

Y/N then grinned mischievously, settling more comfortably in his lap before messing with the straps to his chest plate. She rolled her hips subtly against his, and she didn’t miss the quiet intake and the squeeze of his fingers on her skin.

“I do remember being rudely interrupted earlier,” she teased, unclipping the straps and pulling the piece off. Then his shoulder pads. It allowed her to scoot closer to him, her heat contacting with his hips, making his roll against it.

“That’s right,” he grunted, tightening his grip on her. He was about to get up to take her to bed, but she had other ideas, placing a hand on his chest to stop him.

“She never made you feel as good as I do, right?” She whispered sultry by his ear, rolling her hips hard against his again. She heard him gasp, was close enough to hear it unmodulated as well. It made her hips stutter, Din taking handful of her ass in his palms, encouraging more from her.

“No, never.”

“You know I have to laugh at her,” Y/N said breathlessly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, getting increasingly wet from the ministrations.

“She thought she had you, thought she could get to me. But could she when I’m the one you wake up to every morning? How I’m the one you take pleasure from, who gives it to you as well. Who’s tasted those delicious lips and who’s always there for you no matter what.”

Din couldn’t take much more of this, placing his feet on the floor to ground his hips against hers harder and faster.

“Always you,” he fucking whimpered, making her cunt clench around nothing and juices sweep from her; she was sure he could feel it, heard him growl.

“Gods Din,” Y/N whined pathetically.

“Tell me,” he stuttered out, breathing picking up along with hers. “Tell me what you want to do to me. Fuck I’d let you do anything, anything for my girl.”

Y/N moaned, trying to keep it low as to not wake the baby. She couldn’t form any coherent thoughts, words near impossible from the friction of his hips against hers.

She cried when he stopped, stopping her from moving as well.

“Tell. Me.”

“Shit I – I want to ride you. Right here on this chair. Fuck I’ve imagined it so many times, imagined your dick in my mouth as you fly.”

The words were flowing out of her without much thought, the words themselves combined with her airy voice made him harder if that were possible.

“Good girl.”

Before the words could relay their effect on her he pushed her off, not too hard or rough where she would fall, but enough that he could work on his belt. She took the hint and started with her shirt before her pants, only able to get one leg out before he grabbed her hips again, pulling her to his lap. His erection brushed against her stomach, hot and heavy against her. She groaned at the feeling of it.

“Close your eyes,” Din finally whispered.

Y/N closed them immediately, hearing the clank of his helmet on the ground before his lips hungrily attacked hers. It was all teeth and tongue as he ravished her, hands squeezing her breasts and roughly trailing over her body. She moaned and rolled her hips against his girth, earning a satisfied groan and a nip at her pulse point.

There was no need for a blindfold or complete darkness this time, he trusted her enough to know that she wouldn’t dare open her eyes.

“Turn around,” he growled lightly.

Y/N was going to, but placed her hand over his mouth, trailing the other over his chest, his nipples – which earned a groan from the Mandalorian – and reached down to line her dripping opening against his length.

“Next time,” she breathed as she took him in, both gasping at the feeling of each other connected.

He rolled his hips up, sheathing himself to the brink. He helped her roll his undershirt up, stopping just above his rib cage. She started a fast pace, too impatient to wait until she adjusted; she loved how his girth stretched her every time they were intimate, loved the pain that came with the pleasure.

“You belong to me,” Y/N growled. This new take of dominance coming from her was turning Din on even more, making him moan and thrash under her. “Just as much as I belong to you.”

“Yes,” Din groaned. “Always.”

She buried her face in his neck, pulling down the neck of his shirt just enough to feel skin, inhaling his scent and kissing every inch of the skin before biting down gently on his sweet spot.

“Y/N,” Din whined, hips jutting up faster and harder into her, feeling her walls squeeze him. “You’re gonna make me come too soon if you keep it up.”

“Good. I want it, need it.”

He grabbed a fist full of her hair, roughly pulling her up to stare at her beautiful face, constricted with pleasure, and kissed her, taking her bottom lip between his teeth. Y/N moaned into it, walls fluttering and clit pulsing as the curls of his hair brushed against it.

“I want you to come baby,” Y/N breathed into his mouth as she felt him pulse and twitch inside her. “Let it go.”

It only took a few more hard thrusts and a pinch of his nipple to come deep inside her, hips stuttering and voice choking. She came soon after, moaning into his ear and clenching her thighs around him and the seat. She sagged against him once their hips stopped moving, both panting. After their breathing slowed he placed kisses to her bruised lips and cheekbones before placing his head against her chest.

“If getting jealous does this to you, I might just do it more often,” Din joked.

Y/N chuckled, pinching him lightly on his bicep.

“Don’t you dare.”

 Tags: @momc95​, @treehousemagicblog​, @riverquartzuniverse​, @beepbeepyabitch, @smol-flower-kiddo​, @harps-for-days​, @teenagedirtbagg2​, @goththespian

[calibancangetit]

Reader gets nightmares but whenever Caliban stays with her they go away, so he comforts her and maybe sings her to sleep?

I tried to make this as fluffy as I could 😂 buuut I have to make it angsty or it wouldn’t be me writing it 😉

When She Sleeps (Caliban Imagine)

Warnings: Actual Violence, Blood, Gore,

The blood ozzed down your back as your body jerked forward when the whip sliced through your skin. Your screams echoed throughout the beach as you watched your blood stain the sand under your knees. Tears streamed down your face while you did your best to catch your best, but just as you caught it, another lash fell across you flesh.

“Please stop,” your mother’s voice begged, “please, you were suppose to cure her!”

You looked up to your family. Your mother and father were tied together on the sandy floor unable to move. You tried to ignore the way your mother’s broken leg lay awkwardly in front of her. Just as you tried to ignore the gash on your father’s face. You gave them a smile. It was brave of you to offer any expression for them at all. After all, you were here because of them.

“Cure her,” the plague king Purson asked bewildered, “I’ll do more than just cure her,”

Your sobbed softly to yourself; you didn’t deserve this. Your parents had crossed path with a witch, and as witch hunters, they decided it was best to have her and her precious familiar destroyed. When word spread to the witches of Greendale, they released a curse on your parent’s first born child-you. You would be born with the ability to bring forth the darkest shadows of Hell. Then on the day she would turn twenty, she would become hysterical from the shadows and have an uncontrollable desire to kill every living mortal in Greendale. Your parents paid no mind to it. At least not until your father’s shadow tried to strangle him.

“Enough, we have other obligations to attend to. Bring forth Prince Caliban!” Beelzebub announced.

A series of grunts were heard before a blonde man was thrown in the sand in front of you. He grimaced as he raised himself up. He eyed the kings slowly before he finally looked at you. You shuddered at the eye contact but looked down submissively.

“Your highness,” the kings mocked, “today we will be teaching you the ultimate skill for the monarch of Hell. You will be choosing souls to be tormented for the rest of eternity. The girl or her parents. Either way, they have to watch,”

Your head shot up to this Caliban guy. He looked between you and your parents in slight horror. You could tell he was trying to figure out which choice was right.

“The girl lives,”

“No, please it was supposed to be me!” You screamed as your parents sobbed beside each other.

Caliban looked at you ashamed before looking back to the kings, “the parent’s death will be enough torment for her anyways,”

The kings were extremely please with his reasoning and clapped his back excitedly.

“Wait, please!” You screamed.

For a moment, your eyes landed on your parents somber faces as the whispered their love for you. Then all at once, their skin began melting off their bones in clumps. Their voices rang in your ears as their torment began to consume them.

—

Your body shook back and forth as your eyes snapped open from the force. Your vision cleared and above you were a pair of beautiful eyes and soft blonde curls.

“(Y/N), are you alright?” Caliban asked as he wiped your tears off your cheek.

A cry caught in your throat as you tackled Caliban in hug. He grasped onto you and held you tight. You felt him lay back down on your bed with your head tucked against his chest. His hold on you never softened as he tried to relieve every emotion you were feeling from the nightmare.

“Was it your parents again?” He asked softly, almost as if he were afraid of the answer.

You nodded your head against his chest. You felt his breath hitch, and you couldn’t imagine how badly the guilt was hurting him. He didn’t say anything, though. You were thankful for that.

When your breathing slowed down, Caliban’s arms loosened and you allowed yourself to get more comfortable in his arms. You felt him kiss the top of your head before feeling his fingers lift your chin up to face him. Words didn’t leave his mouth, but you knew exactly what he was saying.

I’m sorry

You smiled at him sadly before cupping his face, “I love you,”

He smiled back before pressing his lips against yours. Your mouth moved against his in a soft passionate kiss. The kiss was filled with a love you never thought you’d be able to feel, but when Caliban pulled away to whisper those three words back, you knew it was real.

His thumb caressed your cheek slowly before he pressed a quick kiss against your lips.

“What song, babygirl?” He sighed as he laid his head against the pillow.

“My mom’s lullaby,”

He chuckled lightly before nodding.

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

And hold it tight

Your nightmares arose from a past that was more traumatic than most.

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

And Caliban was forced to play a major role in that trauma long before you two found the love you share today.

'Cause you'll be in my heart

But in the end, it led him straight to you.

—

Taglist

@octobeers @lena-davina @avocadopoosae @serpentlullaby @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @awkward-walking-potato @artaxerxesthegreat @reclusive-chicken-nugget @justaproudslytherpuff @nerds4life246 @heda-mikaelson @blog-lady-vi @reheated-coffee @igorsbby

[be-the-spark-flyboy]

Fire and the Flood

A/N: once again, no idea what this is but I kinda like it so imma inflict it on y’all set during TLJ

Pairing: Poe x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut 18+, angsty sex (not much plot tbh)

Word count:~1.4K

You don’t cry often, in fact, Poe has never seen you cry before. That is why it hurts so much. Because it was his fault you are breaking. He steps into your quarters, closing the door behind him.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” gathering you in his arms he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, then to your temple, trying to comfort you. Or himself he doesn’t know. Your fingers curl into his shirt, shaking your head, as involuntary sobs choke out of you.

This was so unfair. The war, the death, all of your stolen lives, stolen childhood. Now war was trying to take away the man you love. The foolish, idiotic man who runs head first into danger. The passionate, selfless man who fights in the frontlines, refusing to give up on a cause that means so much to him.

You’d practically ran out the briefing room after Holdo had been appointed acting general, way too exhausted to deal with anything. Poe had been grounded and he wasn’t happy about it in the least.

“I’m scared Poe,” your hands shake as you run your fingers through his hair. You can’t seem to find the right words to tell him how you feel. How do you tell him that you felt like the floor collapses beneath your feet every time he puts himself in danger? But how can you be so selfish, wanting him safe when the whole resistance burns around you?

He understands. The fear that you might wake up one day, alone, Poe no longer hogging your pillow in a cot that wasn’t made for two people. He’s terrified of the same thing. What if you don’t make it? “I know, darling, I know.”

His hold on you chin is gentle as he wipes away your tears, his own face drawn with worry and guilt. “Baby,” he breathes, a hand in you hair, the other around your waist holding you flush against him.

Then he kisses you. Soft and tentative, like he never wants to stop, but too scared that you might pull away from him. You respond with as much fervor as you can muster. Hoping that if you love him hard enough, you might never loose him.

“Poe, please. I need to feel you,” you pull back long enough to utter the words then moulding you lips back together. You couldn’t stand the thought of not kissing him.

It’s frantic and desperate as you paw at each other’s clothes, stumbling into the cot in a tangle of limbs. But suddenly when Poe settles between your legs, it’s like time slows just for the two of you. His arousal is evident against your inner thigh, hot and heavy and the intensity of his gaze is enough to pin you to your spot. The palm he has resting on your stomach, slides down between your legs, fingers right where you need him and he gives you everything you ask for. You find yourself wishing for this moment to never end. Wishing you never have to return to the war you never asked for.

He watches you sigh and moan under him, lips parting and eyebrows drawn, eyes refusing to leave his face. He knows he looks just as blissed out as you even if he isn’t the one gaining pleasure from his ministrations.

Poe continues sliding his fingers between your slick folds, until your hands in his hair tighten, pulling a moan from him, and you beg for him to get inside you. He halts long enough to align himself with you, and then he’s moving again. Hips rolling into yours as you sigh from the familiar sensations of pleasure coursing through your whole body.

He goes slower than usual, hands and lips roving every inch of your skin, desperately seeking more ways to make you moan. He needs to feel you fall apart in his arms. He needs to taste his name on your tongue. The exhaustion of the day was finally catching up with him and he knows you are the only antidote to the nightmares that will inevitably plague his sleep.

He swings you up in one smooth motion, pulling you into his lap encasing you in his arms, holding you as close as possible. Chuckling at the small yelp you emit from the sudden motion, he slots his face in the crook of your neck, stubble grazing your skin as you bury your fingers in his hair. Your weight settled on his sturdy thighs as he thrusts his hips up into yours.

You’re pressed flush against his front, the ring he always wore on a chain around his neck digging into your skin, feeling every ripple of his muscles against your skin. You understand why he needs the comfort, you do too. It’s been a testing day. Especially for him. Poe might act all tough and undaunted, but at the end if the day, he was only human.

Foreheads meet, breaths mingling in the space between you. Your hands caress whatever skin you could find. His face, his neck, his chest. Your eyes flutter close, savoring the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips, the feeling of him languidly thrusting into you. He’s here, he’s safe.

For how long?

You try to shut that part of your thoughts off.

“Babygirl?” The bewilderment in his voice makes you snap your eyes open. It startles you as Poe halts again, looking at you with anguish in his eyes, cheeks wet with tears. Wait. Not his tears. They were yours. You hadn’t realized they had started falling again. “Baby,” he sighs. His lips press against your cheek, kissing away the tracks of wetness down your face. But you don’t want to stop. Not now, not ever. Now it was your lover’s turn to gasp as you press him back against the mattress.

Poe hates that you’re crying. Despises it that he is the reason for it. The war takes everything out of him. It exhaustes him in more than one ways. He feels like he could drop everything and run to a corner of the Galaxy with you where the first order cannot touch you. However, he has a duty to uphold, to the resistance, to the galaxy, his parents, the future. So do you. If you want to have a chance at a future, you need to do this. So for now, the only thing he could offer you was comfort.

He runs his hands over you with no reservations. Up your thighs, your stomach, breasts and neck, committing the feel of your flushed skin against his palm to his memory as you fall apart over him.

Your new position has his length brushing somewhere deeply within you, making you see stars. His name falls from your lips in breathless moans and sighs as Poe knows you’re close. His fingers dive back between your folds as he whispers sweet praises into the darkness of the quarters.

You come, letting out the sweetest cry as your velvet heat throbs and flutters around him. Poe continues snapping his hips up against yours as your pace falters, prolonging your high and chasing his at the same time.

You collapse against his chest, kissing and nipping his neck, begging him to fill you up. That does it. Poe whimpers as his back arches off the bed, and he spills inside of you.

The two of you hold each other, not wanting to move, unwilling to break the tranquility of the moment. Eventually you’d need to. You’d go back to the war, count one close call after the other, wondering when your luck would run out.

Your comm link lights up, ending your moment much sooner that you’d hoped. You still had duties. Life went on, even in the mids of a war.

The two of you dress in silence, and when you were about to leave the room, Poe pulls you into him, resting his forehead on yours. “I love you,” he whispers, thumb skimming over your cheekbones. “Stay safe for me?”

You offer him a shaky smile, “Me too. I love you too,”

—-

The Dameron taglist (open): @writefightandflightclub @arkofblake @yougottakeeponkeepinon @multifandomlife22 @skymerons @smol-peter-parker @rae-rae-patcha @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @spider-starry @hkmultifandom @cloud-leader @elmoakepoke @staringmoony @valhallavalkyrie9 @the-cry-of-youth @liadamerondjarin @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @takemepedropascal

[honestsycrets]

Aslaug’s Initiation

Masterlist

Credits: Collage mine, pictures not.

A/N: Um... so this is a rough read but eh. It’s important to how she moves forward in her life.

She’ll always be her father’s princess.

He meant those words. He constantly kept an eye on his jewel-- the only daughter you had given him. It was one more than his father had. One of seven children that you had blessed him with. For all the trouble, for the pain of his loss of Kitta, he was well rewarded in children. Save little Avaldr whom never had his chance.

No, no. He wouldn’t think of his son now. He would think of his daughter whom was a constant flower upon the Great Hall’s wall. You always assured him that she would need her distance from the Ivarssons and he, but he never imagined that you would play a game of wit and riddle with this boy.

A prince that couldn’t just mysteriously go vanishing without good reason. Ivar was stewing on his throne, long hair braided back by your loving fingers over the other side of his sharp features.

“Do you think she wants him?” Ivar asks you. He knows the answer. His dark haired princess with hair that could rival yours was interested. The way her eyes glistened like the most ravenous of seas told him all he needed to know.

“Aslaug?” You hum, looking out toward your slender daughter. There she sat, ringed fingers under her sharp jawline as she listened to his riddle. The way she smoothed out her deep wine coloured dress told you that she had solved the riddle. For she did that when she was proud. Then she stood up, offering her long hand out to them. Ivar lurches in his chair, steadied by your hand across his chest.

“She needs to choose. You promised her.” You purse your lips at him.

But what would you know? Ivar wants to say. You chose Ubbe. Ubbe who left you with child as he later learned deep in his years with you. His knuckles beat on the arm of his chair in his frustration. You were right… and deep in his gut, he felt a churning.

Something was wrong.

A father always knew when something was awry.

You were a mother. There were things that you understood. Love, children, family-- these things. But when it came to the protection of his family, it was his job. He failed once before. He wasn’t going to fail again. He had tried to give Aslaug the space you asked him to.

But in the end, he was only Viking. A Viking man with one beautiful daughter who could be sullied and abused just as you had. She could find herself married to someone as awful as he was. Someone that would keep her for twelve years in an abusive relationship and never look back. Ivar’s crutch was tight under his tunic, clacking the ground with every motion he took.

He would just take a look. A look to make sure she was safe. He was not going to sit outside the house and loiter. No this was to reassure himself that his girl was safe. There would be no abuse, no sobbing tears when he left or ache of his heart to see her in such a state.

It was only seconds later that he heard the bewildered and harsh gasps. At first, sex. He thought it was sex-- and if he wouldn’t rip off the man’s balls. But something flowed in the undercurrent of that breath. They were too forced.

And as his tunic swirled about him inside like a tempest, there was a ragged scream. Not the deep commanding voice of his daughter, plagued with playful jubilee. These screams were harsh and deep like a young man’s own. Ivar immediately knew that somewhere below that ball of muscle was Aslaug, thrusting a sharp and pointed dagger repeatedly against the man’s chest. Ivar reclined onto his crutch, closing the door behind him with a click of the lock when his daughter thrust the body beside her off, the torn shoulders of her dress exposing arm and a pale portion of the meat of her breast.

It was so sudden that she slipped her hand into her cincher, striking the prince in the throat to cease his pathetic cries with a warpick Ivar made for her twelfth birthday.

“Disgusting--” She says, lurching her bare leg over him. “May you never reach Valhalla, coward.”

The blood below her soaked the panels of wood plating the floor of this cabin, thick like syrup while the blond haired prince oozed out.

“You know, your mother did the exact same thing to a lover of hers.” Ivar said from the entrance. Aslaug’s head would snap in his direction, arm raised over her shoulder as if to chuck a pick at him when she realized-- it was her father.He wasn’t angry? She can hardly believe it.

“Daddie.” Aslaug’s hand snaps to her torn dress. “He had it coming.”

No debate in his mind. Ivar grasps a chair beside him to lower onto the ground, his nonexistent bones becoming more and more painful in his older age. His worn hands are calloused, hard. He carries himself closer to his daughter, legs carrying limply behind him.

“Yes.” He grunts. “He did.”

No remourse was purchased in his voice. A man that forced himself on a free Viking woman was no man at all. Any Viking would attest to that.

“I’ve made a mess of your alliance.” Guilt weighs heavy in her voice for a millisecond. “But don’t think I’m sorry, I would kill him again!”

Ivar snickers. “No one will blame you for defending yourself.”

Viking ideology was that the woman was always right-- always. If she told him that he had forced himself on her, it was the truth. By the condition of his daughter’s dress, it would be the truth. Ivar sweeps his furs from his shoulders and drape them over her shoulders. Her eyes are yet still firm and prideful, despite a glimmer of shame.

“I don’t need comforting, Daddie.” Aslaug pushes herself up from the puddle of blood that dies Ivar’s leather gloves a whole new colour.

“No, no. Of course not.” Ivar grunts, turning around on his hands to drag himself back to the door. She follows after. “You are Viking.”

He stops just before the door, dragging himself onto the chair before taking ahold of the crutch to stand back up. His freehand collides with his daughter’s shoulder, searching her almond shaped eyes for any fear. He finds none there-- nor anywhere else in her heartshaped face.

“We will consider this an initiation.” He shakes her shoulder once.

“An initiation of what? Congratulations on your first murder, Ivarsdottir?” She pulls her furs around her chest, flicking her head to the body. Ivar takes back his bloody palm, licking a line from wrist to the tip of his third finger.

“Of becoming a shieldmaiden.”

With that, he breaks out the door. Aslaug bites back a stupid smile on slender lips. She liked the sound of that. Much more than becoming a woman in a placid future, pushing baby after baby out of her womb.

Aslaug was made for greater things.

@nikkipea @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @kylobien , @titty-teetee , @breathlessouls , @nejijjeoroo , @bcat1291 , @readsalot73 , @mslothbrok (no mix), @romanchronicles, @ateliefloresdaprimavera , @ailucascen , @michaeliskindahot , @concretewaywardangel, @directionlessbuthappy , @hizz-hizz-mothertruckerz , @some-blondes-unicorn , @atequila, @rekdreams247 , @ivarswonderlust , @writingeverynowand-then , @hp-hogwartsexpress , @minarawr , @haliannej, @strangunddurm , @cbouvier23 , @peachesnpisces , @elenawrit , @equalstrashflavoredtrash, @roxxck , @ilvebeenabad , @vikingsmania , @the-geeky-engineer , @huntingbears , @my-little-wolfe , @mitchiri-nek0 , @seize-the-droid , @Certifiedpoison, @hotshotstar , @a-writers-dreams , @quaint-and-curious-being, @ivarthotbrok ,  @mitchiri-nek0 , @salimahbicharara-comun, @captstefanbrandt, @alicedopey , @imagine-this-motherfucker, @zoetrope1997 , @kingniazx , @lost-and-wandering-alone , @amandaseibaek , @queenmissfit  , @calaena-banrion , @memememememe1-blog , @lost-and-wandering-alone , @rubyquartzshades   , @naaladareia, @lisinfleur , @abwrites, @zueserra, @mintandfigs, @AzmentineDaWinters, @mimi334545, @lovingeb, @akamaiden, @sam-draws, @dorned, @bloodydaydreamer, @looneytunes20033 , @givemesmutorgivemedeath, @xivarx, @ethereallysimple, @imamom-makingadifference, @sunlightdaniel, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @hallowed-heathen, @that-darling-babygirl, @tierneygonzalez, @neeadinghugs , @funmadnessandbadassviking, @astertist, @Natmors, @tephi101 @mixedwiththemoon, @dmv49, @imavulcanatheart, @abwrites, @nina2697, @feistybaby , @iconicvaleria, @shanetoo, @youcancallmeladyjoker, @tgrrose

[yeshallbeasgods]

#dude is so fascinating to me I NEED to psychonalyze him. #babygirl you are so full of guilt and remorse you do not know how to recognize anymore #due to the fact that you've been living with that guilt far longer than you have with anything else #and yet you regularly define yourself by it. you use the name of the sword you forged with your comrade #(which you named after the BOTH of you) #and also killed him with and then shattered immediately after the fact when he tried to make you king #as the name you are worshipped as a god under. #his physical ghost you knew for a short while but the metaphorical one has plagued you for so much longer. #you no longer try to be just and honorable because the one time you did it ended up in the loss of this beloved comrade #enough pei ming sexy jokes– accurate as they may be we need to study this mans brain

putting pei ming under a microscope and psychonalyzing him.