#badly described characters tag

[void-botanist]

Badly summarized chosen ones

@kahvilahuhut tagged me for badly summarized ocs and I decided to put a twist on it since I've been thinking about how the various royal spouses were chosen as potential options for the royal family to marry.

I'll tag @vacantgodling, @jezifster and @multi-lefaiye plus an open tag!

[winterandwords]

Badly described characters tag

Thanks to @sergeantnarwhalwrites for the tag. I've never done this one before, so here goes. Characters are identified under the cut, if you want to peek after you vote!

Tagging @lordfenric-writes, @nemaliwrites and @noveldivergence if you'd like to share some badly described characters, with an open tag for anyone else who wants to join in 💜

"Gave up killing people for work but couldn't resist doing it as a hobby" is Noah from November Breaks and Spin Cylinder

"Too drunk on vodka to notice how strong the shrooms and weed are" is Brett from November Breaks and Spin Cylinder

"Fuck the police, from the perspective of having reluctantly been the police" is Rafe from Bridge From Ashes and Name From Nowhere

"A heavily-armed frozen snack with a crunchy abandonment-issues-flavoured centre" is Gillen from Bridge From Ashes and Name From Nowhere

"No physical contact thanks, unless it's a fight and you're losing" is Aria from Bridge From Ashes and Name From Nowhere

[bidokja]

I was joking a while back that the actor they have playing KDJ for the orv movie was too handsome for him and a friend who's read orv was like "KDJ is actually secretly attractive!!" And I just felt my soul leave my body right then

SIGHS...

Okay. Buckle in. I'm gonna finally actually address and explain and theorize about this whole...thing.

I'm not gonna cite any exact chapters cause it's like 11:30 and I've got an 8 hour drive in the morning but I'll at least make an approximate reference to where certain things are mentioned. Also, this post is just my personal interpretation for a good bit of it, but it's an interpretation I feel very solid about, so do with that what you will. Moving on to the meat of things:

There is one (1) instance in the web novel that I know of which describes specific features of Kim Dokja (especially ones other people notice). This takes place when members of KimCom are trying to make Kim Dokja presentable to give his speech at the Industrial Complex (after it's been plopped down on Earth). This is when they start really paying attention and focusing on Kim Dokja's appearance since they're putting makeup on him; I still don't think they can interpret his whole face, but they can accurately pick out and retain more features than usual. If I remember correctly they reference him having long eyelashes, smooth skin, and soft hair. These features can be viewed as (stereotypically) attractive.

Certain parts of the fandom have taken this scene and run with it at a very surface level, without realizing (or without acknowledging at the very least) that this scene is not about how Kim Dokja looks. This is, in part, due to not realizing or acknowledging why Kim Dokja's face is "censored" in the first place, and what that censoring actually means. I think it's also possible that some people are assuming the censorship works like a physical phenomena rather than an altered perception.

I'll address that last point first. The censorship of Kim Dokja's features is not something as simple as a physical phenomena. It's not a bar or scribble or mosaic over his face. If that were true it'd be very obvious to anyone looking at him that his face is hidden. But his face is not hidden to people. They can look at him and see a face. If they concentrate on his eyes, they can see where he's looking. They know when he's frowning or grinning. They see a face loud and clear. But what face are they seeing? Because it's not really his, whatever they're seeing.

No one quite agrees on what he really looks like. And if they try and think about what he looks like, they can't recall. Or if they do, it's vague, or different each time. We notice these little details throughout the series. Basically, Kim Dokja's face is cognitively obscured. Something - likely the Fourth Wall, though I can't recall if this is ever stated outright - is interfering with everyone's ability to perceive him properly. This culminated in him feeling off to others; and since they don't even realize this is happening, they surmise that he is "ugly."

Moving on to the other point about what the censorship means: To be blunt, the censorship of his face is an allegory for his disconnect from the "story" (aka: real life, and the real people at his side). The lifting - however slight - of this censorship represents him becoming more and more a part of the "story" (aka: less disconnected from the life he is living and the people at his side). The censorship's existence and lifting can represent other things - like dissociation or depersonalization or, if you want to get really meta, the fact that he is all of our faces at once - but that's how I'd sum up the main premise of it. (The Fourth Wall is a larger part of the dissociation allegory, but that's for another post).

So you see, them noticing his individual features isn't about the features. It's not about the features! It doesn't matter at all which features got listed. Because they could describe any features whatsoever and it would not change the entire point of the scene. Because the point isn't what he looks like. The point is that they can truly and clearly see these features. For the first time. They are seeing parts of him for the first time. Re-read that sentence multiple times, literally and metaphorically. What does it mean to see someone as they are?

This is an extremely significant turning point dressed up as a dress-up scene.

---

P.S. / Additionally, I'm of the opinion that Kim Dokja is not handsome, and he is not ugly. He is not pretty, and he is not ghastly. Not attractive, nor unattractive. Kim Dokja isn't any of these things. More importantly, Kim Dokja can't be any of these things. The entire point of Kim Dokja is that you cannot pick him out of a crowd; he is the crowd. He's a reader. He's the reader. Why does he need to be handsome? Why must he be pretty? Why is him being attractive necessary or relevant? He doesn't, he doesn't, it's not. He is someone deeply deeply loved and irreplaceable to those around him, and someone who cannot even begin to recognize or accept that unless it's through a love letter masquerading as a story he can read. He is the crowd, a reader, the reader. He's you, he's me. He's every single one of us.

[dyrewrites]

Describe Your OCs Badly

@stesierra tagged me for this thing...let's see if I can do it.

Leaving it OPEN

[potatobugz]

i submitted my lovely mouseboy Finnegan for the @ahatintime-oc-competition yesterday :D here is the art i drew 4 them!

for those unaware: he came from a dream i had once involving him and Snatcher But As A Bird; and i sorta just. added onto them from there. they're so sillay

[enbeemagical]

some of my characters, badly described:

-manic pixie dream girl? no. feral rat nightmare bitch

-Jaskier, lesbian edition

-what the hell is stranger danger

-the song "accidentally in love" but dad version

-T-Rex Trying

-hi gay, I'm mom

-the Evil Queen from Ever After High crossed with Susebron Warbreaker

if you've been following me awhile, bonus points if you can name any of the characters

[metalfreaks86]

Senior Year | Rating: Mature | 50,728 [30 Chapters]

Author: Skepsiss / Skepsis_Ree

Artist: metalfreaks86

Beta Reader: QoS1312 / midsummer-semantics

[Link to the Fic] | [Link to art]

Pairings: Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Billy Hargrove

Tags: Slow Burn, steddie, high school romance, after season 2, During Season 3, Post Season 4, Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Steve Harrington Queer awakening, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Demisexual Steve Harrington, Biromantic Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort Emotional, Hurt/Comfort Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Trigger Warnings: Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Depression, Anxiety, Eddie flags and has hook ups, Heartbroken, Bullying, use of slurs, Injury, Permanent Disability, recovering from injury in the hospital, fade to black sex scene, briefly described blow jobs

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

Summary: What happened in Steve’s senior year of high school? We know that he almost failed grade 12, and we know he had ‘lost his groove’ by mid-summer of 1985, but what happened between November 1984 and July 1985? And what if Steve actually made friends with Eddie Munson during that time instead of being alone? Senior Year is a fic about Steve struggling with PTSD and depression through his final months of high school, and how he slowly spiralled downward, making it impossible for him to get into college, and damaging his confidence so badly he couldn’t get a date if he begged. During senior year, Steve does make a connection with Eddie though, and their odd on-again, off-again ‘friendship’ becomes a staple in both their lives. This is a story about coping, the struggles of a broken heart, and making connections. There are genuine, raw moments, but in the end, the connection these two boys have is strong enough to see them through it all—even if it takes them both a long time to realize that they have feelings for one another.

[prettyboykatsuki]

give yourself up, my treat | h. sakura

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to as girlfriend, descriptions of makeup and nails), implied to be shorter than sakura, omorashi, piss!!!! / wetting, humiliation, lots of crying / embarrassment, praise kink, somewhat public, femdom, depictions of subspace, d/s dynamics, like... soft loving sex as aftercare but this is honestly pure kink lol sorry, 18+

✮ wc ; 4.6k (i dont want to talk about it man)

✮ a/n ; this is piss kink. like. full stop. full stop omorashi. im warning you now that this is piss kink to the highest extent. srry sakura . finally let him top and it was after making him piss himself. rip

also!! while sakura is describing how shameful he feels he is doing this all very willingly. they have a safeword but sakura does not feel any need to use it.

✮ synopsis ; sakura lets you push his limits any way you please.

Sakura listens to everything you say. Like some kind of moron.  

Can’t help himself really, as much as it irritates him to admit. 

That’s always just been his instinct. Any time he finds himself in unfamiliar waters, he leans into that as much as possible. He’s survived a long time by trusting his intuition and a longstanding distrust of other people. It speaks a lot to someone's character usually if Sakura is even mildly inclined to trust them.  

He isn’t sure if it’s his intuition that drives him to follow your order without question, but it’s a strong enough pull he finds he can’t help himself even when he so, so badly wants to resist it.  

It’s not Sakura’s fault. It’s not really yours either.  That’s just how you’ve always been. How its always been. 

(Once, well before you and Sakura were a thing - Nirei had made an observation about you. Called you disarming. Suo laughed and agreed before adding that it felt a little misleading to describe you that way even if it was true. 

 You had just moved into the area after a disciplinary case in your hometown. You’d beat up another student who was bullying your friend, got expelled and moved out on your own after the fact. Cut ties with your family and everything.  

Despite the general air of mystery around you, there was  something about you that Sakura felt pulled him in. For some reason, you never triggered his fight or flight even when it was way easier to do it. For some reason you made him comfortable, always knowing his limits and rarely teasing him even for laughs.  

An undeniable magnetism to you appealed to him a lot more than it repulsed him. ) 

Over the years, Sakura has mulled a lot over your relationship. How you approached him at fifteen with a cool, carefree attitude that left him uselessly infatuated against his will. How you took your time in getting to know him for years. Later, how you confessed. Roped him into the relationship so seamlessly that by the time things happened for real, Sakura felt totally unnerved by how inevitable—how deliberate you were about it right from the start. Something that occurred to him too late.  

You’ve always been good at placating his many troubles too, even when you’re the cause of them. His lingering paranoia, his serious attitude, his inability to deal with compliments. You handle all of it with such grace it’s like those parts of him don’t even exist. Maybe it’s because you went through something similar to him, but you understand all of it well - though you dealt with it in the opposite way he does.  

Your carefree acceptance has proved to have a good influence on him. He’s less anxious and more relaxed around you. He always feels like listening to you, and always does - and after dating for four years, he’s rarely mad about it.  

Sakura always listens to everything you say because some part of him is conditioned too. His body does it instinctively, placing more trust in your words than he does in even himself. You’ve built that in him. 

As troublesome as you can be, you’ve yet to lead him astray.

Embarrassing as it is, a long relationship has instilled a sense of obedience  to you and his… love for you that runs deeper even than his intuition.  

That’s why, when you tell Sakura to— 

“Drink,”  

—he does it without hesitation.  

He drinks another cup of tea in one gulp before wiping the corner of his lip as you smile at him very briefly.  

He no longer feels a clear sense of how much time has passed, despite the fact he’s currently very sober.  

Cramped against the wall, Sakura’s head spins as you lean your weight against his other side and chat with Umemiya over drinks. An airy smile on your lips and gentle look in your eye. Damn you.  

His chest heaves as the thick, warm air enters his lungs and stifles his already difficult breathing further. Dim lights overhead cast shadow underneath the table and only barely illuminate the topside well enough to see the remnants of a long night. Empty glasses, canisters of beer and shochu as well as a variety of small plates cleared of everything apart from stray crumbs littering its surface.  

Around him, his loved ones part into small groups and chat amongst each other. Sakura has no idea what the topic of conversation is anymore. He hasn’t heard anything other than the sound of your voice in his head for an hour and hasn’t spoken up for the last thirty minutes. When someone tries to call him into conversation, he mumbles something before you speak for him and no one bats an eye at this for which Sakura’s fucking grateful.  

It’s so hard to think of anything when his bladder feels this painfully full.  

His head is filled with white noise, red flush crawling even further along his neck until it dusts along his nose - up to the ends of his ears. Under the table, your fingers drift subtly to his inner thigh and push inward. Sakura winces, biting back a pathetic little whimper and glaring at you weakly from the corner of his eyes.  

This is torture.  

You aimlessly draw something in his thigh with your fingers before smiling gently as you nudge another cup of lukewarm tea his way. Leaning in while your conversation partners are all distracted by ordering something else, you whisper into his ear. The light warmth of your breath makes him shake, painful pressure in his abdomen steadily increases as the liquid starts to travel down his throat. Your hand is careful as it slides underneath his black t-shirt and lightly grazes his skin. It’s dark enough to not be obvious. The dull ends of your manicured nails scratch lightly at the soft, lower swell of his belly before the pads of your fingers push hard into his core.  

His body gives into the pressure, eyes widening with fear at the sudden sensation. He barely stifles a gasp before shooting you another mean look you easily ignore.  

“Haruka,” You hand him his cup again, filled to the very brim with liquid. “Drink some more tea,”  

He grits his teeth. 

“Fucksake. I can’t—I can’t.”  

You raise an eyebrow as your hand smooth down his thighs. Your lips quirk up into a smile so smug it nearly rocks him out of his anger.  

“Is that right?”  

A test. He’s always welcome to give up. He knows that. He knows that if he does you won’t hold it against him either. You want him to do it because he wanted too, always. He hates that about you.  

Sakura grinds his teeth and takes a hold of the ceramic tea cup, knocking the lukewarm tea back in one go. Your expression morphs into something pleased and endeared from the corner of his eyes and his heart starts to flutter. He isn’t sure if he’s thankful or not for all the people around, for the environment.  

It gives you free reign to lean even further into him and whisper the words he’s been desperately aching to hear all evening.  

“Good boy,” You hum, careful and deliberate. A innocent kiss gets placed on his cheek, the lipgloss dampening his skin. “You’re being so, so strong.”  

The words him melt him unwittingly. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, the rush of affection threads through his nerves and unwinds his sense of danger further. Enough that he might slip completely. He has to hold it until the clock hits midnight. Just until then. You’ll take a cab home and Sakura will relieve himself finally, finally. It’s seventeen more minutes until he can go home and empty his bladder. He can’t screw up now.  

This is the first time you’ve made Sakura hold in public. You’ve always been considerate enough to do it at home where the safety net of your mutual understanding and familiar bathroom are there even if he fails to keep it in. Even if he pissed himself in your living room or in your bedroom - it can be dry cleaned or tossed. Most of all there’s no one to explain it too.  

In public it’s different. He could pretend that he’s  drunk and while it wouldn’t be less fucking embarrassing  - at least it’s understandable. Sakura is sure that’s part of the reason you chose a place like this do to attempt such a public play. To give him the out, just in case.  

But regardless, the shame and humiliation of not being able to hold it in front of everyone he knows is a threat. It’s just so goddamn embarrassing. So horrible and awful. The anxiety makes his stomach churn but he can’t focus on a damn thing else.  

He has to go. He has too.  

He always whines about how much he hates this but you both know he doesn’t entirely mean it. It’s not that he likes this miserable sensation, as much as he likes how you get off on it. How sadistic it turns his unusually kind and light-hearted girlfriend.  

 You’ve always relished in Sakura’s shame like the freak you are. Pure pleasure on your face and absolute adoration as you watched Sakura break apart slowly and guide him through it with hushed whispers. Watching  the light color of his jeans or joggers stain dark from wetness or watch him be jostle around enough to almost piss but not enough to give him actual relief.  Teasing him until he trickles and makes his own boxers damp enough to be uncomfortable—to be cognizant  of the fact he’s pissed himself helplessly while not being able to take care of it on his own. Not without your explicit permission. 

You’ve done all sorts of play together. Usually, you have and indoor date and movie night where Sakura knocks back a few liters over of water over long few hours and gets increasingly desperate. And you get him hard during that, always sure to tease him until he’s just on the edge of wetting himself.  

You always shower together afterwards. Yet, you don’t hesitate to touch Sakura’s soft, piss soaked cock with reverence either way. Quick to praise him, whether or not he’s failed or succeeded in holding it. Despite how shameful the whole thing is and how much he protested it at the start  - some part of him deep, deep down can admit he sort of likes it. Or at least, he likes the pleasure he gets from you when you take the reigns.  

It feels good, though he really resents even kind of admitting that. The relief from holding and holding and holding and then finally getting to let go is just as good every time. Pissing himself always feels good in the moment.  

And you’re always so aroused by him after. He likes that way more than everything else being frank. Likes the way you get wet over his humiliation. Likes how softly you stroke and lick his cock when he’s all cleaned up, eyes lidded and full of pure love as he gets to cum too  - another reward for holding in so well. He loves the warm whispers of good boy against his neck and shoulders when you finally sink down on his length and the way you feel when he holds you in his lap and buries his face into your shoulder.  

All of that feels so much better when he does what he’s told and he likes listening to you. So even though it’s usually against his best interest in conditions like these - he bites his tongue and continues to drink until he feels like he’s sating your appetite, silently ignoring the ballooning in his bladder only getting worse with each pass of breath.  

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks until the clock hits midnight.  

You’re deliberately brutal in the last seventeen minutes. In that time, you make Sakura down at least another half liter of liquid and continue to tease him all the way until the izakaya closes. He’s antsy by the time the night ends. His friends slowly disperse outside and go home in different directions until it’s just the two of you waiting for a taxi to come pick you up.  

Sakura is counting the fucking seconds.  

He needs to go,  but he doesn’t want to piss himself in the taxi. His legs are crossed, shifting his weight anxiously as you hold his hand and smile plainly like nothing in the world is going on. 

Another two minutes until the cab arrives, another twelve to go home. You hum to yourself as you reach your hand up and caress the back of his neck,  palm brushing the trimmed hair and sliding slowly over his rapid pulse and flush skin. With no one around, you don’t bother hiding your intentions. You slide your hand just into the waistband of his black jeans, just above his soft cock.  

His brows raise high as your eyes lock.  

And then you push at that angle - push hard enough he feels a slight trickle. Not enough to stain his light-wash jeans, but enough that the fabric of his underwear is noticeably damp. Sweat forms at his temple from a mix of stress and shame - eyes screwed closed as he curses. He’s afraid to look at you but does anyway.  

You’re smiling just as warmly as he thought you’d be. His voice cracks under the weight.  

He thinks this is the hardest it’s ever been. The pressure is so much stronger when there’s stakes and Sakura is mildly horrified. And he has to go so bad, so bad he can’t think of anything else.  

“Fucking—,” He crumbles, feeling shameful and red faced and lightheaded as he admits this to you with trembling lips and terrified eyes. “Dunno if I can make it home, I need to - “  

You stand in front of him and push up slightly to kiss him. It’s a nice distraction. Your soft, sweet lips salve his nerves just a touch. You gaze up at him lovingly.  

“It’s okay baby, promise. Home soon.”  

The words of protest die on his lips. Despite being taller than you, Sakura finds himself feeling so incredibly small. So incredibly helpless and so, so dependent on you in that moment he hardly knows what to do with himself. It usually takes him longer to get like this. You’re the only that can bat for him if he really does wet himself. He’s doing everything you say, being obedient, chasing after the familiar high of the aftermath and it’s sinking him so deep into that headspace. He feels suspended in air.  

He grips your hands a little tighter and you smile at him. His brows furrow.  

“Wanna hold me a little baby? On the way home.”  

He nods feeling as tender as ever and you nod back, kissing his temple.  

“Mm. Good boy. It’s okay.”  

He hides a whimper into your hair as he hugs you from behind, a light laugh leaving your lips when he does. Two minutes feels like two hours.  

The taxi pulls up not long after. You open the doors for him and talk to the driver, giving him your address. Something plays on the radio that gets turned up to give you and Sakura some room as the driver makes way. It’s a short, short drive over to your apartment. Just seven minutes.  

As soon as the driver steps on the gas, Sakura turns his gaze on you pleadingly. And you smile at him, shifting to lay a little against his chest. He buries his face against your shoulder in measured breaths as your other hand comes up to play with his hair.  

“You’re extra whiny today,” You whisper without any malice. A doting edge to your words. “Can’t help it can you? We’re almost home, baby.”  

Sakura bites back another whimper, mustering as much sense into his speech as he can though he hardly wants to talk. Hardly wants to think, either.  

“So close, Haruka. Just a little more and then you can go.” You nudge him with your nose “Such a good boy.”  

“So full,” The words come out hot, on a heavy breath as his hand grips your waist tighter. “Can’t—no more,”  

“Shh,” You soothe. The shared affection between you looks like normal PDA through the reflection in the drivers mirror and it makes him feel even more self-conscious. “Three more minutes, Haru. A minute or two to walk in. Two minutes in the elevator, and another two to get the door unlocked. Nine minutes. You’ve held it for so long. I know you can hold it in a little longer.”  

He grits his teeth and closes his eyes. “Tell me I’m good.”  

“So good baby.” You nuzzle against the crown of his head. “So, so good.”  

The next few minutes feel like a complete blur.  

One more light until the driver pulls into the parking lot of your complex, politely wishing you goodnight before pulling away. Sakura nearly has to lean on you as you walk into the empty elevator and take the trip upstairs. His grip on your hand is tight as you lead him through the corridor, grips even tighter as you fish your keys out from your purse and unlock the door.  

The sound of the lock undoing makes Sakura feel so relieved. You usher him in carefully, his thighs tight and knees nearly buckling from the pressure of his bladder. He’s so full it’s painful, so full it aches and it’s so much he can’t think about anything except that and how much he wants to be free from it. He's delirious and sweaty. He just needs to go so badly.

He tries to rush to the bathroom but jostling around while he walks doesn't work out well.

A looming sense of panic sets in immediately.. He knows what's coming instinctively - the uncontrollable relaxation on his muscles when his body has reached his limit. He looks up at you pleadingly, though he’s not sure what he’s even asking you for.

He can’t think.  Barely moving as something starts to unfold inside of him, crashing into him all at once.

It’s obvious that he’d start to feel the urge to piss when he's comfortable at hom, finally in his own space but— 

He shakes his head, looking at you with blown out eyes.

“I can’t,” He hiccups as he shuffles closer and closer to the living room, teary at his lashline Trying his best to get to the bathroom and failing. “Can’t make it to the—fuck, please, I can’t. It’s.—It’s gonna, I’m gonna  -“  

Your eyes widen in understanding as you crouch just at the entrance alongside him, petting his back.  

“Oh sweetheart,” Your voice is the softest, sweetest sound he’s heard all night. “Poor thing. Shh, it’s okay baby. Let go. It’s alright, I promise. You did so good.”  

Something in him...breaks. Shatters.

His eyes go wide before they blur with tears and piss leaks from between his legs unwittingly. 

Sakura is reduced down to sobbing. His whole body shudders so hard, he’s knees buckling under the weight as the pressure finally stops. He can’t help but listen, even though he’s so, so ashamed of himself.  

Fuck. Fuck, it feels so good.  

Sakura finally, finally lets go. He crumbles under his own weight, shrinking down to his knees as he feels it soak through the layers in a hot rush between his legs. His clothes dampen and drench as he lets out long breaths. You card your fingers through his hair as he sobs through the endless stream. It feels like it’s never going to stop. He can’t open his eyes to look but he can feel the puddle forming underneath him, how it soaks into his jeans and shoes and makes them wet. How ashamed and humiliated he feels being completely unable to stop himself from wetting himself. It flows and flows and flows, testament to just how much he had to drink.  

The entirety of his pant leg is soaked with his own piss and mess. Embarrassment makes him curl up as he’s unable to stop once he starts. It goes on for so long. But it feels so good to let it out. The sheer sense of relief is more of what’s making him sob than anything else.  

Piss trickles down his legs as he heaves through deep breaths and short sobs. He feels your hands cup his face as you bend in a squat, unconcerned with the way it splashes against your shoes or tights. When he finally gets his vision back as you swipe his tears away, you’re looking at him with such reverence he wants to cry all over again.  

“You did so good baby,” You praise, warming him. You kiss him on the lips first before brushing against the crown of his head. “So good. You’re so perfect. Let’s get you cleaned up, hm? Give you you your reward.” 

He sniffles as he stares at you. “You’re such a damn pervert.”  

You laugh a little. “Mm, that’s true. Sorry, baby.”  

__  

Clean-up is always less of a hassle then he expects it to be.  

Maybe because you have a routine for it now, but it doesn’t take very long at all. You do most of the heavy lifting during it which only worsens the feeling helplessness Sakura has been experiencing for the last few hours. He doesn’t make any effort to get away or out from that headspace, though it dies down with time. The promise of a reward has been the only thing keeping him level for hours now and he’d be damned to let it all go to waste after he worked so hard.  

After a long, warm shower and change of clothes  - Sakura finally gets what he wants more than anything.  

Affection and attention.  

In the safety of your bedroom, Sakura feels particularly floaty as he holds you in your lap. Lazy and worn out, he nuzzles himself against your neck as he feels your naked torso squish against his. He’s too embarrassed to tell you verbally like this that he loves you and hopes the nuzzling does the job for him. 

Your nails feel good on his scalp as you card them again through his wet hair. Your skin smells nice too, and you’re soft and warm. The mellow thump of your heartbeat soothes him as you shower him in endless praise. It’s usually impossible for you to do this. Only when he’s bone tired like this do you get the chance.  

Too embarrassing to let you do it unless he’s worked hard for it like he did today.  

Sakura feels his length slide against your pussy and lets out a soft noise. You’re always so wet during this kind of play. It makes him feel wanted in a way he finds cringeworthy and doesn’t dare voice. Still, he doesn’t mind the feeling - aimlessly sliding his hips up and against your slick folds with a huff.  

You do him the favor of moving. Copying the gesture by sliding yourself up and against his cock without penetration. His fingers tighten on your hips, cock painfully sensitive as he whimpers. Pre-cum leaks from his tip, weepy and spent and red as he humps against you even harder - lost in the sensation.  

“Wanna cum like this Haruka? Don’t need to ask permission.”  

“Nghh.”  

He nods wordlessly as you grind yourself down harder onto him. His tip passes over your clit enough times to make you sigh pleasantly, and that sound drives him over the edge. Thick ropes of white cum spills against your soft pussy as Sakura moans and shudders  violently. Despite how close you are, he can’t help but feel like it’s not close enough.  

Maybe you sense it, because you do him the favor of sliding yourself onto his half hard cock without so much as another word. It’s still not enough for him, but it sates him better than before at least. He wraps his arms around you hard and squeezes tight. Just for a little while.  

He scowls a little as he looks up at you, sobering up enough to form a sentence after spending some time hugging you. “Have you cum yet?”  

“Don’t worry about it, baby.”  

“Shut up,” He replies with no bite and a scowl. Another flush crawls across his face. “I can make you feel good too.”  

You raise your eyebrow. 

“Sounds like you’re declaring war not trying to give me an orgasm. I’m glad I made you feel good though,” You add cheekily. He flusters immediately, instinctively getting aggressive but not wanting to shove you off of him even as you break out into a fit of laughter.  

“Fuck off. I d-don’t feel good doing that weird shit with you. I only do it because - “ 

You interject. “Because you love me? That’s a better reason to you? How sweet Haru.”  

He frowns deeply.  

“Be quiet, you—don’t put words in my mouth, damn it.”  

“Pfft, okay. I’m sorry. I hope I’m not pushing you too much.”  

He huffs a little, pouting as he goes back to pressing his cheek to your skin. His voice is a touch softer than it was before.  

“I don’t do things for bullshit reasons. Stupid.”  

“I’m glad, then. Even so, you had a tough time today hm? So I’ll let you fuck me as much as you like. Just do whatever you feel like.”  

“I wanna…return to the favor or whatever.” He says after thinking on it. “Just… wanna make you feel good too. Like….” His voice goes small “…You make me feel. Or whatever.”  

You smile at him. He can feel it, not see it. He’s avoiding looking at your face since he’s sure you’re all goofy and loveydovey.  

“The floor is all yours. No rush though okay? I like spoiling you and we’ve got all night.”  

Sakura scowls, casting his gaze down at the bedroom floor. “….I love you.”  

You smile and press another kiss to his head. He feels so content he wants to die. Your reply comes easily anyway.  

“I love you too, Haruka.”  

[theminecraftbee]

so a thing this fandom does that remains FASCINATING to me, as a function of the fact a lot of this fandom is people's first fandom or only current fandom, is just... assume a lot of things it does is a scourge that this fandom has invented or doesn't exist outside of it? or like, is uniquely bad here? and i won't deny that sometimes mcyt fandom is a bit more intense by virtue of numbers, but like...

duo names: confusing fandom-injokes to describe duos and groups tend to be an anime fandom thing specifically for many historical reasons, but they're not uncommon. hey quick--if you haven't been in KHR fandom, can you guess what 1827 is? no? i'll give you a hint: that's actually a ship name. or, ygo fans, tell me the difference between puppyshipping, prideshipping, violetshipping, and rivalshipping. my hint is that they're all kaiba ships and two of them are actually the same ship. good luck!

reducing characters to a specific trait: have you read fic in another fandom before? i would recommend you go do so and come back to me. my example here is "sasuke likes tomatoes", for the record.

common au fanon that's confusing to outsiders: my deep cut here is "when i got into certain tv fandoms i was baffled by the existence of sentinel/guide fics", which is a slightly older tv fandom thing so many of you probably don't know what i'm on about. but trust me: in certain fandoms it's ubiquitous and unless you've watched a completely different tv show you're gonna have to entirely pick it up from reading fic. oh hey, hybrid aus and watcher!grian, nice to see your relative here,

fanon being treated as canon: did you know there's this whole bnha character, naomasa, who is treated as canonically having a lie detector quirk? did you know that, best i can tell, that's not in canon anywhere, it just got echoed through fanon enough that everyone treated it as canon? 'fanon trait becomes so ubiquitous everyone assumes it has to be there' is not a new thing. also, batfamily fans, i have been lead to understand the tim and coffee thing is also this.

characters being treated badly to make a different dynamic look better: the fact we have the term 'character bashing' tells you all you need to know, here. if anything my one complaint on this front isn't even that it's happening--it's that i wish bashing and/or "not [character] friendly" was tagged a little more frequently, haha.

characters being reduced to their family dynamics: tale as old as time. "even the family dynamic thing" yes even that. just because this fandom tended to be particularly ship-adverse in the past didn't mean it didn't do basically the same behaviors as any fandom with shipping did with those dynamics, just gen. and other gen fandoms also do that. yes, down to the "and shipping reduces them to a ship, unlike my gen dynamic, which is very in-character; why can't people just be friends?" thing. some of you have to have been marvel fans right.

characters being reduced to their ships: some of you have to have been marvel fans right.

The Discourse: yeah this is an "actively running show" fandom thing, but also a hiatus fandom thing. ask a homestuck about vriskourse sometime. as much as i hate to say it, it probably made doomsday discourse look cute.

and those are just like... some things i've seen people complain about on my dash recently. idk it just hit me there are probably fans in mcyt fandoms who are assuming that some things (like hybrid aus or duo names) are the kind of things that only happen here, so i thought i'd offer some examples of other places they happen! i also have even more examples if you'd like.

to be clear: this isn't shaming anyone for complaining about any of these things. lord knows i go complain to my friends about it all the time, just the other day i was complaining in the category of 'they keep bashing my guy'. it's more of just... a gentle reminder that maybe we're big, maybe we're loud, maybe we have problems... but these problems aren't always unique.

so uh. we're all suffering together i guess...?

[genevievefangirl]

Gen's Top 100 DBDA Fics - PART 7

For all caveats/rules/backstory, please read the Master Post

signed, sealed, delivered By: sulfuric @c-rowland Rating: G Tags: Fluff, Mutual Pining, Getting Together Summary: The misty remains of the thing haven’t even cleared from the air of the office when Smiley—still on his back, rolling over like a golden retriever—is looking again to Uptight and grinning wide in a way the Postman can only reliably describe as stupid. He’s been standing here observing the ruckus for a good minute, now, and the two of them are completely in their own world, unaware of anything but each other. It takes him a tick, but Uptight smiles, too. (or: the Postman, observing.) My Notes: This is really fun as an outsider’s POV fic and who doesn’t love the Ghost Postman?!

So Tie Me to a Post and Block My Ears By: that_trans_autistic_guy @that-trans-autistic-guy Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hell, Trauma, Blindness, Deaf, Past Torture, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Edwin loved his job. Truly, being a detective was something he’d daydreamed about in life and it was his reality in his afterlife, a genuine dream come true. Even better, he had the best partner and agency he could have ever asked for. The work was always intriguing and exciting, there was always more to learn and he always had his favorite person by his side. What more could he need? My Notes: Edwin having a panic attack and then Charles calms him down? Sign me up please! And the second chapter being Charles POV of the whole thing is the cherry on top.

solatium By: matelotage Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, PTSD Summary: It's not something Charles noticed right away in the heat of things, considering they'd been in hell the first time it happened, and at the mercy of a deranged witch the other. But they'd been the only times he'd seen Edwin without his usual posh school attire. My Notes: Charles giving Edwin his coat after the events of Ep 8 is EVERYTHING TO ME

Something’s gone terribly wrong (But I’ll make it better) By: Aster_Flower114 aStar_flower on twitter Rating: NR Tags: Fluff, Protective Charles Rowland, Injury Summary: Short fic about Edwin getting badly injured during a case and is reluctant to rest for a bit My Notes: Edwin refusing help/rest when he's hurt? So in character, but also makes me want to smack him lol

Soul Protector By: Ice_Elf @ice-elf Rating: M Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Soul Bond Summary: Whoever held the greatest claim on his soul could be worse than Doll Spider. They might doom him to an eternity of pain that even he couldn’t imagine. But he didn’t care: this chance of freedom—of snatching victory from the creature that had stolen decades of his existence—was far greater than any risk. “The claimant is unknown,” the Justiciar stated. “If they approach the court with the proper paperwork, or are willing to be put to the sword, we will revisit your case. ~ Following their return from Hell, Edwin and Charles had thought themselves safe. They had believed that Hell and its denizens had no more claim on Edwin's soul. Unfortunately, not everyone is of the same opinion. When Edwin is summoned to a tribunal to determine whether the Doll Spider or the Office of Lost and Found has the greater claim on his soul, it is up to Charles, Crystal and the Night Nurse to put things right. The truth, however, may be more complicated than it seems - and more than one of the agency will be forced to confront their demons. My Notes: This is truly one of the greats for me. The worldbuilding, the characterization, and the plot are all exactly what I want out of a fanfic. And Edwin and Charles are just so devoted and codependent in this it is unreal.

Spectral Rage By: Baby_Spinach @a-jasminator Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, FIrst Kiss, Whump, Protective Charles Rowland, Protective Edwin Payne Summary: "Hold on, you think I'd turn?" Charles demands. "Every ghost has a unique trigger, and I can't say I wasn't a little concerned on a few occasions in Port Townsend. Then, with that same look in your eyes just now…" Edwin isn't wrong; it's not like Charles hadn't been thinking the same thing. But he shakes his head and attempts a comforting grin--Edwin's got too much on his plate to waste time worrying about the one person who's supposed to look out for him. "Don't worry, mate, I'm aces. So how do we find this demonic arsehole?" -OR- All ghosts are capable of turning vengeful. When their quarry is revealed to be a demon from Edwin's past, Charles and Edwin learn something important about their own personal triggers. My Notes: References to Edwin's time in Hell? The boys being mutually protective? One of them turning into a dangerous powerful mess when the other is threatend? What's not to love!

Still a Better Lovestory By: Vamillepudding @vamillepudding Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: “That about did it,” Edwin says, patting himself down and straightening his bowtie. “Now, if you’re ready, I suggest we find a mirror and-“ “Did you just cough up a flower?” Charles interrupts. Flower, perhaps, is a slight exaggeration. It’s more like a petal, red and incredibly out of place here on the shore. Edwin clears his throat, but this time no petals follow. “Certainly it’s nothing to worry about.” Or: Edwin is suffering from a weird curse, but for some reason, he's refusing Charles' help. Charles is trying his best to fix it anyway, but Edwin is being oddly secretive about the whole thing. My Notes: I'll admit that I am not normally a Hanahaki desease persona, but this fic is amazing. And if you like Twilight references you will have a lot of fun with this!

still. By: Backstabberr @dulltulipz Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Protective Charles Rowland, Hurt Edwin Payne, Hurt Charles Rowland Summary: He reached out to take Edwin’s hand. “I realized…I loved you, that I’m in love with you,” Charles said, his eyes moving from his hands to meet Edwin’s. He was crying as well, his hand gripping Charles tighter. “And you were gone, I couldn’t tell you, I wouldn’t be able to kiss you or hold you. It just started and ended at that very moment.” Charles tripped over some of his words before shuttering, he breathed deeply. [aka Edwin is badly hurt to the point he falls into some sort of ghost coma, Charles inevitably has a revelation.] My Notes: Injuried Edwin to protective charles to love confesssion pipeline strikes again! (And I love it every time)

Stories left on our skin By: DryadGurrl @dryadgurrl Rating: T Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Magical Tattoos, Protective Charles Rowland Summary: Charles always hated re-doing the tattoos, but that was part of why he'd insisted on taking over the task in the first place, it was easier, somehow, being the one to etch those marks into Edwin's skin than it was watching him do it to himself. Or: Edwin has magical tattoos to help with his spellcasting and when a case goes south, it's up to Charles to replace them (and not for the first time) My Notes: I would have never come up with this idea, but it is brilliant. Charles redoing magical tattoos for Edwin is just such an intimate gesture and really shows how close their relationship is.

sun in my eyes By: pisces_spider @pisces-swirlix Rating: G Tags: Fluff, First Kiss, Romantic Soulmates, Platonic Soulmates Summary: When Edwin reads to Charles, everything is okay. Edwin tries to get to the bottom of why Charles likes it so much. (Or — Edwin and Charles treat reading aloud like it’s a love language) My Notes: Edwin reading to Charles is literally one of my favorite things ever.

[void-botanist]

I love how the votes came out for this. Here's who they were:

Jock: Derik. There is literally an old scene where he's talking to his brother and says such things as “I will take you to the fucking opera any day of the week” and “Hey, I just want you to know that you can’t possibly love opera as much as me, so you better have a backup thing to like”.

Utility knife: Rodney. I realized afterward that this sort of implies he's a human weapon kind of a guy but I just meant he has a lot of very different skills. His werewolf crush is of course Allison

Sailor: Avis. I draw her in overalls a lot

Guy in the middle: Horatio. To answer @irianeth's question, he gets in the middle of drama three ways: 1) by accidentally being the source of the drama. He's the product of an affair and it's kind of a whole thing; 2) people keep pulling him into their drama, because he's friends with everybody and also his sister just keeps wanting him to be a part of it; and 3) sometimes he makes the drama by being warm and calculating or just a workaholic.

Archivist: Hoven. I realize I also accidentally implied that he's a monsterfucker, which I think he 100% is, but the forbidden boner in question exists because he can't accept the fact that he's attracted to humans. The frightened part is just him existentially

Witch: Christina. She gets a happy ending but man thinking about her story shatters my heart

Tagging the people who left me tags on this poll in case they wanna see who was who: @kk7-rbs @jezifster @sarahlizziewrites @irianeth @ohnomybreadsticks @pumpkincentaur

Badly described character tag

@jezifster tagged me for this one so here's some random POV characters:

I'll pass this on to @kk7-rbs, @sarahlizziewrites, and @outpost51, plus anyone else who wants to join in!

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

If your requests are ever opened.

Could I request an yandere twst boys x Elysia Reader?

If you haven't watched or played Honkai. Let me share you some details about Elysia!

Elysia is a female character from Honkai impact 3rd

She's an Elf. Titled as Miss Pink Elf.

She uses a prism bow that launches gorgeous crystal flowers on enemies. Not only that shes very fast at attacking! Even backflipping a few times while firing Arrows upon her enemies.

She's Elegant and Gorgeous. Very very gorgeous. Like an angel!

She's also one of the Flame chasers.

Flame chasers are like super powerful soldiers fighting against a strong deity.

Elysia is an elegant, cheerful, and sweet lady who's described as someone who "enjoys everything".

*but also very flirtatious *smug face*

She rarely speaks badly about anybody, and even then, she would say it in the lightest way possible. She is a friendly presence,

And she has a herrscher form!

A herrscher is a powerful being that either chooses to protect humanity or go against it. But she chooses to protect humanity!

I have a few more details about her! But it's a big big spoiler on the chapter! And I Don't wanna spoil.

Here are some gif and pics of her!

^

|

Her normal form

And this is her Herrscher form!

Take your time with this request! And remember to take breaks from finishing requests. Please be sure to tag me if your done! I would definitely like to see the results! Any character is fine!

Pink Elf Elysia Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Powers aside, you are a bubbly personality who loves to live stream and hang out with all your friends. Live streaming and posting It makes for many friends and really irritated obsessive suitors: 

Cater Diamond

“Come on pinky, pose for the Magicam!”

“Peaces!”

“Aww, you’re so cute! No worries I’ll be sure to tag you!”

Constantly texting you, posting about you, and you reposting in return

Always keeping you at arm's length

He makes it so that he’s the only one you’re turning to

Spending your time together because he knows the value of capturing you+ the best moments

While he can’t take you on in a fight he guesses he won’t need to

After all, he was hanging out with you the whole time that accident took place

“My magic to duplicate myself? Nah, they were helping me set the camera for me and (Y/n).”

Floyd Leech

“You’re pointy ears are sooo cutte! I want to bite.”

“Awww well only if I get to bite yours.”

“Please!”

Your energy fits his perfectly 

Nimble enough to keep him interested when he wants to hunt+ play

Playful enough not to get offended at his advances 

And teasing enough to keep him satisfied on a leash

You become the resident Floyd-relaxer

Don’t stop him from getting to you

He’ll strangle if you try and stop him

“Pinky! Elfy! Shrimpy! Give me nibbles!”

Leona Kingscholar 

“Oh Leona, do you like my outfit? Admit it I’m absolutely ravishing.”

“Yeah, ravishing for an herbivore.”

“Oya? Are you in denial? Or perhaps you’re quite distracted?”

“Oh please, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

Training with him is something he won’t ever admit how much he enjoys it

Sparring with you is great practice for when he tries to restrain you

He also enjoys how you let him rest on your lap

But he could do without you teasing him

He’ll wreck whoever bothers him about it

“Just shut up and let me rest.”

@rosalynakiyama

[jccatstudios]

I absolutely love your adapting of Six of Crows. What scene would you most be looking forward to illustrating?

Oooooooh that is quite the question. So many scenes to choose from. Before I make my big long list, just as a disclaimer, I'm only planning to finish Chapter 3 right now. Everything that comes after (especially scenes way later in the book) is up in the air. No promises with Chapter 4 either. Also, not including CK on this list because then I'd be writing all night. That being said... here are some scenes that instantly come to mind:

Matthias introduction! I enjoy his character more and more each time I read, and that fight with the wolves he has is such a great was to meet him and know what he's about. Also the scene where Inej trips him haha

Chapter 10: Inej. The Tante Heleen encounter is so visceral. There's a lot of scenes I wouldn't describe as fun to draw because of their content, but they'd be fun to draw in the sense that I'd have a fair amount of creative problem-solving to get the emotional effect across

Wesper tag team fight on the docks

Eyeball scene. Eyeball scene. Eyeball scene!!! Like imagine the impact panel: Kaz's and Oomen's silhouettes, white on a black background, a dynamic arc of blood between Kaz's hand and Oomen's face

Inej's interactions with Nina, Jesper, and Kaz on the boat. Especially the life debt scene

The little scene where they're passing the book binoculars around and Nina makes fun of Kaz? That part is so dear to me

Wagon scene and Kaz's backstory. Honestly, everyone's backstory. I'm a One Piece fan, what can I say

Inej climbing the incinerator shaft and realizing her dream!!!

Matthias's "betrayal." Absolutely legendary cliffhanger

Chapter 38: Kaz. Imagine a full splash page of him so far away, the rest of the page filled with just water, silent. And the feeding the crows scene! The lighting effects are incredible in my mind, trust on that one

Jesper, Inej, and Wylan piloting the tank! Never before have I wanted to draw mechanical details so badly

What would drawing Nina's POV be like when she's on parem? I envision lots of little panels detailing out all the things she can see and experience now

"I will have you without armor" but also the scene between Inej and Nina at the start of that chapter? I forgot about it on my first read, but I recently listened to that part again and it's so sweet

Pekka Rollins. I just want to draw him.

[blackdollette]

I know you’re not really writing for Rory characters right now but if I could request a Clyde smut where he says “swallow, swallow” with the pill, but instead.. it’s his girlfriend or OOO maybe someone who buys stuff off him like weed, and she’s giving him head as payment but she’s got a textural problem so like, weird textures are icky, and he holds his hand over her mouth and says swallow? That may be weird, I dunno— if it is I’m so sorry 😭😭

anon you don't understand how much i've been thinking abt this ever since you sent this. i just 😩

"hand at the back of my neck." | clyde

national anthem. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999@livingdead-materialgirl @romanroyapoligist@auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly@imoonkiss @lankysimp@nom-nommmm1@xxbl00d-cl0txx@k1ll3rh0rr0r@wildathevrt@mommymilkers0526@greenxgloss

⊹₊⋆ pairing: dealer!clyde x female!reader

⊹₊⋆ word count: 1.4k

⊹₊⋆ contents: drugs, blowjob, cum-eating, slight aftercare, fluffy if you squint

when it came to describing you, impulsive only covered the tip of the iceburg. the lines defining the story between you and clyde had gone blurry over the years but as far as you knew, he was basically the best thing that had ever happened to you. 

and both of you were fully aware of that.

your faintly shivering fist sheepishly knocked that familiar pattern on the door of his apartment room. the hallway outside of his room always smelled faintly of green and stale fast food. before you could bring your hand back to your side, the doorknob turned allowing the stained wooden door to creak open, bringing his warm, sleepy eyes and that smile into view.

“well, if it isn’t my favourite customer…” clyde flipped his hair out of his face, allowing his gaze to run up and down you shamelessly. “...you look good. as usual.”

he was shirtless, only clad in a pair of gray sweatpants that rode dangerously low on his hips. all need for formality had vanished the day you had experienced your first high right there in his “workshop”.

you smiled shyly, already feeling slightly light on your feet as the psychedelic aromas from inside wafted toward you. “hi clyde. sorry for showing up unannounced…” 

considering how quickly he opened the door and the lack of that lust-filled flush that covered his cheeks whenever he was getting some action, you could safely conclude that he was alone at the moment. but you felt the need to ask anyway.

“is now a good time? i can come back later if you’re busy…”

he let out a little breathless laugh, shaking his head and dislodging a few locks from behind his ear. “there’s no better time than now. c’mon in. i just got some new stuff shipped in that you’ll love.”

he snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his cozy apartment room and shutting the door behind you.

“you got your mind on anything specific today?” he asked as he ushered you to his overstuffed couch. you sat down, scanning the various piles of boxes with long medical names and numbers on them. 

you weren’t really the adventurous type when it came to drugs. you saw how badly it could screw someone’s life over, and you didn’t know if you had the willpower to “stop whenever you wanted to”. so a little marijuana had always seemed like the safest choice.

“just the usual please.” you watched as he playfully rolled his eyes at the predictability of your request.

“that’s my girl. i don’t even know why i wonder differently…” 

he dug through a large cardboard box, retrieving two dainty bags of weed and a pack of rolling paper. he wrapped them up nicely for you, knowing that the presentation meant everything to you. 

“alright, a bag of mary jane for the pretty lady.” he handed the goods to you, the smile on your face tugging at his heartstrings. “that’ll be $50.”

you hissed, the mention of the price nearly killing the mood.

“you know i’ve never had that kind of money on me, clyde. i’m barely making it by at the restaurant. i’m out looking for my third job this month.”

clyde tossed his hair out of his face, crossing his arms over his chest with a sigh. “don’t think i don’t know that times are getting hard around these parts. you know people have hardly been buying from me these days…”

you nodded, a guilt-ridden expression on your face as you cleared your throat to propose a suggestion.

“i doubt all those used-up strippers that come around here have the money. how do they pay you? blood money?”

clyde laughs heartily. “the night usually ends in some cheap sex that i regret in the morning. but a deal is a deal. you thinking of spending the night with me to cover the fee?”

you shake your head. “it’s that time of the month. i know how you are around blood.”

clyde grimaces, nodding with a chuckle. “no kidding. but you might be onto something…”

you looked up at him from your position on the couch debating whether or not to make your proposal.

“...want a blowjob..?” 

clyde’s gaze snapped to your face, looking for any hint or humour or sarcasm in your question. but you were dead serious. he looked down, a grin playing at his lips. 

“well that sure would be one hell of a payment…”

you fidgeted with your thumbs. “so… do we have a deal..?”

he smiles, extending a hand to you. “indeed we do.”

he gave you a firm handshake, spinning you around and sitting down on the couch as you stood in front of him.

you slowly sank down to your knees, resting comfortably in between his partly spread legs. your gazes met briefly, yours eager and his desperate. his imprint pressed against the soft wool of his sweatpants, betraying how much he was trying to keep his composure.

you place your hands on his thighs, trailing them up until you reach the waistband. your fingers pried underneath the elastic, the feeling of your cold fingers against his skin making him shiver. it took a moment for you to navigate your way under you felt him against your palm. you pulled out his needy erection, the tip already red and angry with desire.

clyde let out a shaky exhale, tipping his head back as your soft hands massaged his girth and teased the tip. his hips rutted up into your grip, desperate for more contact.

 you swallowed hard, getting rid of the abundance of moisture in your mouth before slowly opening your jaw, your hot breath hitting the tip and you licked a long stripe up his cock. clyde groaned deeply, his hand finding the back of your head as the other went down to cup your cheek.

you began to take him in, inch by inch as you salivated around him. you went down until your chin touched his balls and your nose tapped at the base of his length. you held back a gag as the tip hit the back of your throat. once you were secure, you bobbed your head up and down, creating suction in your cheeks to maximize his pleasure.

clyde’s breathing grew laboured, a huge grin plastered on his face. “...oh man… you’re a natural, aren’t ya..?” your heart fluttered at his praise, urging you to go a little quicker.

your tongue flicked against his tip with practiced precision. 

clyde whimpered as his hips bucked upward, forcing his length into you and out just as quickly. “i-i don’t think i’m gonna last much longer…” he swallows hard, his voice coming out strained and breathy. “...hope you’re ready for a load…”

you fondled his balls with your hand, massaging hypontic patterns onto the soft flesh. the heat of your mouth, the feeling of your perfect touch, it was all doing things to his head. better than any drug around.

as his leg began to twitch and his breathing grew weary, he vigorously thrusted into your mouth as moans and dirty phrases spilled from his lips.

“...that’s it… i’m cummin’...”

before he could fully get his warning out, his seed spilled into your mouth. everytime you thought he was running empty, another load busted onto your tongue. you gagged, your eyes welling with tears as he panted heavily, pulling your mouth off his rod as he recollected himself.

his vision went hazy. “that… that was amazing…” he looked down as you, watching you struggle to swallow his excessive load.

he waited for you to get yourself steady, but it was almost as if your body was physically rejecting his cum. you gagged, a few drops spilling out of your mouth until he quickly held the bottom of your jaw. 

“hey, hey..! easy there… what’s wrong..?” he asked frantically. you couldn’t speak, but he got the message quickly. 

he tilted your head back gently. “there you go, sweetie… swallow, swallow. just like that…” he whispered, wiping away the stray drops as you finally managed to get the thick, salty solution down.

you panted heavily, gripping onto his thighs for support. “i did it…” you managed to gasp out as he gently held your face. 

clyde pushed his hair out of his face, helping you get back to your feet. he stood up as well, still reeling over the aftershocks of his orgasm. “well, a deal is a deal.” he picked up your bagged goods from the couch, tossing them to you. 

you murmured a quiet ‘thank you’ as he walked you to the door, opening it for you like the gentleman he was.

“it was a real pleasure doing business with you.”

author's note: this request took me wayyy too long :(( and how haven't I written for clyde since April?!

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A FRESH START [21]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, death of minor original character, self defense leading to homicide, groping of reader by stranger (not described in depth)

Word Count: 10k+

Updates every Thursday

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: i am so sorry this took so long i know y'all have been waiting all day for it. work was so hectic and i was so frazzled and it's been a long day hah. i know the tags at the bottom aren't all working right and i'm sorry about that but tumblr kept being a bitch and i was gonna lose my mind. speaking of taglists, i am closing AFS's taglist. anyways, hope y'all enjoy!]

#21: MADE OF THE RIGHT STUFF

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"no one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear." -c.s. lewis

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The Armorer had been a constant in Din’s life. She was a staple piece of the covert⏤ a figure of mentor ship in his upbringing. He had always greatly admired her, and her opinion meant a lot to him. It was why hearing her call him ‘Apostate’ had stung so badly. Coming from anyone it was a blow, but having the Armorer cast him away had been devastating. Being able to come before her, prove his redemption, and have her reinstate him had been a  sweet moment. If Din were a smart man he would’ve left it at that and been on his way. However, Din was a stubborn man. A stubborn man who would not leave this rock until he got what he wanted come hell or high water.

“She is an outsider.” The Armorer spoke in Mando’a. 

“Yes, but⏤”

“An outsider that you ask me to stoke the forge for?”

Din kept his entire body still to hide his nerves. “Yes. That is what I am asking.” The Armorer did not reply further. She stayed silent, seated by the forge with her hands laid in her lap. Din spoke up again, unable to resist. “She is made of the right stuff. The virtues of a Mandalorian. She may not follow the Way, but she understands it⏤ respects it.”

“You wish to court her?” The Armorer asked and Din gave a firm nod. “Have you presented her with a token of intention?”

Din thought to the blaster he had gifted you. Typically, a token of intention would be a weapon of some kind created for the intended. However, the blaster had once been his and it did not have his signet on it. Plus, it had been given to you while he was an Apostate. It did not count. “No. I have not.”

“This forge is for beskar, and I do not make weapons⏤”

“I am not requesting a weapon.” Din said firmly. He knew beskar was for armor. It was part of the reason his spear had been melted down to create Grogu’s chainmail. Din already had a plan for his token of intention. That was of no concern to him. “I am requesting a set of bracers with my signet.”

The Armorer’s head gave a slight tilt and he wasn’t shocked by her surprise. She rose from her seat and her hands clasped behind her back as she spoke. “You have yet to present this woman with a token of intention, yet you are requesting a token of ridduurok?”

“Yes.” Din replied. He knew how it sounded. Din was not blind to the weight of his request. However, it wasn’t as if he planned to present this to you the moment he returned. He was going to take his time, court you properly, and let you control the speed at which this relationship would move. Din was a man who was sure of what he wanted though, and he knew that was you. He had known that for quite some time now. There was no one else in this galaxy for him. People were constantly referring to you as his wife, and he always corrected them, but more than anything he wanted to be in the position where he did not have to. Din wanted it to be true. “I am sure of my decision and wanted to bring this decision to you sooner rather than later.”

“And if I refuse?” The Armorer pressed.

“I…” Din swallowed the lump in his throat. His hands clenched tight as they rested on top of his thighs. “I would be disappointed, but it would not stop me. She is who I want. She is… She is who I love.”

The Armorer hummed in response and it gave him no clear picture on where the figure head stood on this decision. She made the motion for him to rise from his seat. Din pushed up and tried to hide the tension in his frame. She finally spoke, but it was only to motion to the door and speak on a different topic. “Take your boy to the training yard. We will speak again.”

Din bit back a sigh and gave a tense nod. Well, it was better than an outright no. He turned on his heel to go find Grogu. As he walked, he lifted his vambrace to try and call you. Hours earlier you hadn’t answered, but Din assumed that meant you were busy in the clinic. It happened sometimes. Just as before, the signal did not pick up on your end and his steps came to a slow pause. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut. You were busy. His mind was jumping to the worst case scenario, but you were probably just busy. He forced himself to keep walking. Din would try again soon.

Your ears were ringing, and you felt like you were trapped in a fog. There was a tugging on your arm. You lifted your gaze to try and find the source. Nima. It was Nima. She stood by your side, eyes wide in panic, as she screamed at you. She screamed but there was only the ringing. With a final tug, she dragged you up to your feet and the world snapped into focus.

Sirens. A siren was blaring and it mingled with the sound of explosions as fire rained down from the Corsair in the sky. “We have to go!” Nima screamed and your eyes snapped to her. “Come on! Move!”

Nima was pulling you down the road as the two of you got lost in the crowd of other panicked citizens. The smell of smoke burned your nose and you could feel the heat of various burning buildings as you passed. Your head was throbbing and with every step your vision would blur for a second before shakily coming back into focus. The flow of the running crowd picked up speed and panic as another bomb fell not too far away and your hand slipped out of Nima’s. You heard her scream out your name, saw a flash of her pink skin as she tried to jump and spot you, but she was swept even further away.

Someone slammed into you from behind and you went sprawling. Get out of the way. Get out of the way. This was a stampede and you needed to move. Unable to get to your feet quick enough you threw yourself to the side beside some rubble so you weren’t trampled.

While leaning against the rubble, you tried to catch your breath. Your arms were covered in the dust being kicked up into the air, but no immediate wounds. Hesitantly, you probed at your hairline and winced when you found a tender spot. Pulling your hand back your fingers were coated in a shine of blood. 

“Shit.” You breathed. That explained the concussion. 

Most of the crowd had passed and you glanced around to figure out where you were. The school house was up ahead which meant if you kept pressing down the street you’d reach the lava plains. With a grunt, you tried to jog forward⏤ in the distance behind you, the sounds of deep, excited yelling spurned you on. As you were passing the school the sound of a muffled scream brought you to a screeching halt. You paused, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart and the excited yelling getting closer. After a beat, there was another scream. Fuck, the schoolhouse. 

Your eyes darted to where you could see the edge of the city. Din would be so mad at you. You could almost hear his voice at the back of your mind barking for you to get the hell out of Nevarro. The scream came again and it sounded young. All you could picture was Grogu, scared and hurt, trapped in the rubble. That made your decision for you. If this had been your boy you’d want someone to stop for him. You sprinted into the school house and scanned the destroyed classroom. The back corner had caved in from a bomb. 

“Hey!” You yelled. “Can you hear me? Where are you!?”

“Here!” 

That was Wynn’s voice, Grogu’s teacher, and it sounded like it was coming from the space behind the pile of rubble. You hurried over and scanned the pile for a spot you could pull away. Wynn was making calming noises to a sobbing and hysterical child⏤ that’s who had screamed. You wrapped your fingers around a block and pulled it back. The large chunk of concrete shifted just enough that you could get down on your knees and crawl through. 

All of the rubble had blocked off one of the small back cubbies where the children would keep their bags. There you found Wynn, uninjured but covered in dust, clutching a familiar child in her arms. Elodie. You tried to bite back the gasp that threatened to leave you. 

“Hey, sweetie, it’s okay.” You said softly and crawled closer. “Do you remember me, Elodie?”

She sniffled, “You’re⏤ You’re Gro⏤ Grogu’s mommy.”

“That’s right.” You nodded and shifted so you sat right beside them both. Elodie’s blonde hair was covered in soot and you could see bright red blood on her shirt. Jaen and Dayen were probably out of their minds with worry. Maker. “Can you tell me what hurts?”

“Her arm.” Wynn mouthed.

Elodie was crying once more, and you reached forward to carefully touch her. Elodie let out a scream of panic and you tried to whisper reassurances. “It’s okay, it’s okay, sweetie. I’m gonna make it better.” You pulled her right arm away from her body as it had been cradling and covering the left one, and as soon as you did you felt the blood drain from your face. Still, you kept your features neutral. Her left arm was broken, her pale skin discolored in ugly shades of purple and red, and the bone itself had pierced out of her skin. That’s where the blood had come from.

“The other kids were out for recess. My assistant got them out, but Elodie had come back in to use the bathroom.” Wynn shook her head. The gentle woman was trembling. “I couldn’t move the rubble and hold her.”

You gave your pockets a pat, but the only item you had on you was some medical tape. “Dank farrik.” You muttered. “Wynn, where’s the school’s first aid kit?”

“Out by my desk.”

You spun and crawled back out of the rubble to find the kit. If the kit was up to date then you’d have the supplies you needed for a temporary patch job. It didn’t take you long to dig the kit out of the desk, but it was then you noticed the explosions had stopped. Everything had stopped save for the hooting and hollering in the distance. Shit. You raced back to where Wynn and Elodie sat.

“Alright, sweetie, I want you to look at Ms. Wynn, okay? Just her.” You said. You met Wynn’s gaze and she seemed to understand what was about to happen and nodded.

“Hey, honey.” Wynn spoke softly and shifted so she could hold Elodie’s head to face her. You dug through the kit while the teacher spoke calmly and kindly to the little girl who was still crying. The first thing you did was grab the medgun which was loaded with pain meds and punched the needle into her arm without warning. Elodie’s crying grew worse and you hit her with the needle twice more. Three doses was just below what would be too much for a girl her size. Then you grabbed the bacta spray and began to coat the open wound with it in thick layers. 

The numbing pain meds seemed to be working as her sobs turned to hiccups, but she was not going to like this next part. However, the sound of the attackers was growing closer which meant you were running out of a window to do this. You set one hand behind Elodie’s elbow and grasped her left hand with your other. Wynn saw the motion and held onto Elodie tighter. You gave her hand a sharp tug, drawing the bone back into place, and the scream that left Elodie’s little lips was haunting. It only lasted a second before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she went limp.

“Elodie??” Wynn cried.

“She’s okay.” You checked her pulse and breathing. “The pain just overwhelmed her.” 

Quickly, you grabbed the gauze and wrapped it around her arm along with the collapsible splint to keep it from moving. The sound of a deep laugh while someone kicked around items made you and Wynn freeze. You carefully closed up the kit and motioned for Wynn to pull Elodie to the side and even deeper into the pocket you were trapped in. 

“I liked this place better when it was a bar!” A voice barked out and other men laughed. You were hearing at least four voices. “Look at all this shit!” The sound of furniture being tossed around made you wince. “Where’s Beetl with the liquor!?”

It sounded like they were settling into place and you mentally cursed.

The three of you were going to be stuck here for longer than you liked, and you just prayed Elodie stayed unconscious. 

Din was getting nervous. So much so that he couldn’t even enjoy watching Grogu beat Paz’s son in a sparring match with darts. All he could think about was the fact that he wasn’t getting in touch with anyone from Nevarro. You still weren’t picking up his calls, and now he couldn’t get in touch with anyone else either.

He had to go back. 

“And you’re going to take Grogu with you?” Bo Katan questioned.

“He goes where I go.” Din replied. Grogu grunted in agreement from his arms while Bo Katan shook her head in disagreement. He had told her a quick good-bye and to explain to the others where he was going. Din had a sinking feeling since this morning that he just couldn’t shake.

“Djarin⏤”

His vambrace chirped as a message came through and Din let out a breath of relief seeing Mayfeld’s name. Din shifted the call to his helmet. “Mayfeld! What the hell⏤”

“We got trouble, boss.” Mayfeld blurted. His voice strained. “King Gorian Shard is here. His Corsair is raining fire down on Nevarro. We evacuated the city and⏤”

“Soran.” Din blurted your fake name, the one you still went by. “Where is she? Is she alright?!”

“I’m sure she’s fine⏤”

“You’re sure??” Din barked. “You have eyes on her?! Mayfeld! Do you have eyes⏤”

“I saw her and Nima running out of the city when this all started.” Mayfeld snapped, the sound of blaster fire filled the other line before he spoke again, “We’re trying to keep the pirates away from the citizens, we’re out in the lava plains⏤” Din felt like he was going to be sick. That wasn’t enough. That wasn’t enough reassurance for him. “Mando!? Mando, are you listening!?”

“I’m coming. Just keep them safe. Please get Soran to call me when you see her.”

“It might be tough. The Corsair is jamming our communications. We’ve been trying to get in contact with you this entire time but⏤”

The call cut out and Din was already moving. Bo slid into his path and he nearly bowled her over to get past. She held her hands out and forced him to a stop.

“What is happening?”

“Nevarro is under attack. Gorian Shard brought his Corsair and his men have infiltrated the city.” Din snapped. “Now move⏤”

“You can’t just go there alone.”

“Get the hell out of my way.” Din’s hand drifted to his blaster.

Bo let out a slow sigh and tilted her head. “Think, Djarin. What do you think you’ll be able to do on your own? You’re out gunned on this. You need back up.” Logic told him that she wasn’t wrong, but every fiber of his being was screaming for him to shove past her and get to the N1. “You’re wasting time here with me.”

“I know!” Din yelled, frustrated. “So get out of my way, Bo.”

“The covert is a community, is it not? A family?” Bo questioned. “You have some of the finest warriors in the galaxy here, yet you want to go to Nevarro alone?”

Din was shaking. A mix of anger and fear. Grogu tilted his head up to gaze at him, wide eyes filled with concern. His son may not have fully understood what was happening, but he knew something was wrong. Grogu chirped, “Ma?”

“I get it. I do. But how much can you help this girl of yours if you run in blind and get yourself killed?” Bo pressed. She shook her head. “You drive me up the wall, Djarin, but I know you’re not a complete idiot. Think for a second here.”

With a frustrated huff, Din spun on his heel to find the Armorer. With every step he took, Bo on his tail, Din prayed to the Maker, and any other deity that may be listening, that you were somewhere safe. He was coming for you. Din would tear through any person who stood in his way. He just needed you to hold on a little while longer.

Apparently, the pirates had decided to make the schoolhouse their new cantina. Never mind there was literally a cantina filled with drinks right in the middle of the city they could use. New voices would come in and out, laughing loudly and blindly firing their blasters, while you and Wynn stayed silent. Hours had passed. As unlucky as this entire situation seemed, you were thankful that Elodie was still out cold and that not a single one of the attackers was curious enough to dig through rubble.

You leaned your head against the wall and tapped on your communicator uselessly. It was dead for some reason. Maybe the attack had something to do with that. None of your calls were going out and if someone was trying to call you then it wasn’t coming in. You let your arm fall to the side and glanced over to see Wynn gently running her fingers through Elodie’s hair in a soothing pattern.

Poor Jaen and Dayen. You hoped they were alright and out in the lava plains with everyone else. If you were in that situation, stuck outside the city while Grogu was trapped Maker knows where? There was nothing that would keep you from racing after him. You’d claw the face off anyone who tried to stop you from searching for him. Despite knowing that fact, you still hoped someone was holding them back. The last thing you wanted was for something terrible to happen to them.

A loud crash made you and Wynn jump. You shifted so you sat between the only opening out into the main room and the little girl. Wynn wrapped her arms tighter around Elodie. Laughs followed the crash and it seemed like you were still safe⏤ for now. This wasn’t going to last. You couldn’t just sit here and pray a miracle happened. All it would take is one noise from the three of you or one of the pirates getting nosy and that would be it. Game over.

The light that had been streaming through the hole in the ceiling, created from the rubble, had disappeared hours ago. As night settled over Nevarro this could be good or bad news. If you were lucky then with the darkness the pirates would drift away to sleep and give you three a chance to make a run for it, but if you weren’t lucky then even more people would drift into the school house to drink. Based on the setting, you were not having a lucky day and so far it seemed none of the men drinking were slowing down quite yet.

A soft whimper made you stiffen and you saw Elodie begin to squirm in Wynn’s arms. Wynn’s gaze met yours in a panic and you began to quietly dig through the first aid kit again. You couldn’t expect the young girl to stay completely quiet with an injury like that. There were a few more doses of pain medication. You hated the idea of giving her more than the recommended dose, but as long as you kept an eye on her vitals. Risk versus benefit. In this scenario, there was more benefit than risk currently. 

You pressed the needle into her upper arm and moments later her features evened out. You let out a breath of relief and leaned your head against the wall once more. This was a waiting game and that was your least favorite situation to be stuck in. With a slow breath, you let your eyes close for just a moment.

“Soran.”

A soft hiss made your eyes snap open, to see Wynn trying to grab your attention. You felt dazed and you were now lying on your side. You had closed your eyes for only a second, but the lighting had changed. It was still dark, but the dim glow of dawn could be seen through the ceiling’s hole. You pushed up and winced at the headache still lingering behind your eyes.

“Shit.” You mumbled quietly. “How long was I out?”

“Through the night?” Wynn whispered back. “I was worried. You were out cold.”

“Elodie?”

Wynn shook her head. “Still sleeping.” You turned your head to try and listen out for the main room. It was mostly quiet now, but there was still an artificial glow peeking through the rubble’s cracks. “I think most fell asleep, but they’re still out there.”

You shifted and reached out for Elodie. “Take a break, Wynn. Get some sleep.”

She nodded without much argument and you could see the exhaustion in her eyes. You wished you had woken earlier. It didn’t take long for Wynn to lay down and fall asleep herself while you curled Elodie in your arms⏤ careful not to jar her arm. Holding her made you miss Grogu, but you were thankful he wasn’t here. If anything ever happened to him you don’t think you’d survive it. Him or Din. That was a comfort you could take in this. Neither of your boys were here to possibly get hurt.

They were worlds away⏤ safe.

Maybe an hour had passed when Elodie began to murmur and move against you. You held her tighter to your chest and whispered that she was safe with you. A whimper left her lips and you winced. “Elodie, sweetie, you’re okay. I need you to stay quiet for me.” You whispered. Her bleary eyes blinked open and you ran a hand through her hair. “It’s me. You’re safe with me and Ms. Wynn. Everything is okay.”

“I want my mommy and daddy.” Elodie began to cry. You buried her face into your shoulder to muffle the sounds of her sobs.

“I know.” You mumbled into her hair. “I know, sweetie.”

Elodie cried for a while, but it slowed to harsh and tired breathing. She was awake and clinging to you with her good arm. You continued to run your hand through her hair and murmur how brave she was and how proud her parents would be. This seemed to marginally calm her. 

The sound of shuffling grew closer to the rubble and you felt your entire body stiffen⏤ on edge. It didn’t seem like he was looking for anything and moments later you heard the sound of peeing off to the sound of the rubble. Your nose scrunched in disgust but you supposed it could be worse. The man began to talk to some others and you listened as closely as you could to try and count the number of people in the room. As the glow of dawn spread across the sky, you really needed to get out of here. Elodie was stable, but she needed proper medical care.

Wynn woke up when you hissed her name and you shifted the little girl in your arms to her. They both stared at you in alarm as you crawled slowly and quietly toward the rubble blocking you in. As you got closer you laid on your belly and shuffled closer. You were low enough to be able to peek through the entrance, but you stayed as far back as you could to remain out of sight just in case one of the men was facing the rubble.

“How long do we gotta stick ‘round here?” A man scoffed. Someone threw a bottle and you heard the glass shatter with a wince. “Can’t we go?”

“You wanna tell the King what to do?” Another snorted. “Be my guest, idiot.”

A third man chimed in and they seemed to go in circles. Three in total then? Unless one was quiet, but you sincerely doubted that. It seemed like every soul that swung through here couldn’t keep their mouth shut. You crawled back deeper into the pocket to settle beside Wynn and Elodie.

“We need to get out of here.” You whispered. “I have a plan. I’m going to distract them⏤”

“Wait⏤”

“⏤and while I do that, you’re gonna take Elodie out the back and use the alley to get Elodie to the lava plains. It’ll be a straight shot. Just stay off the main street.”

Wynn shook her head. “This is dangerous. You’re putting yourself in an awful situation. Maybe we should just stay.”

“We’re tempting fate just by sitting here, and Elodie needs further medical care.” You argued. “This is our best bet.” Wynn still didn’t seem convinced, but you had already made your decision. In your career, you needed to rely on gut calls. Instinct. No time for hesitation. It was best if you did this now before more men showed up. “I’m gonna make them chase after me, and as soon as they follow you need to take Elodie out the back door. Do you understand?”

Wynn nodded after a moment. “I do. Just please be careful.”

Before you could lose your nerve, you crawled back toward the rubble entrance and tried to listen and figure out where each man sat. If you had to guess, you’d say they were on the other side of the room which worked in your favor, and the front door was a straight shot. The issue would be going from on your knees to running without tripping over or being shot. Once again, you heard Din at the back of your head telling you what a reckless and stupid idea this was. That was always a good sign, right?

You sucked in a sharp breath, waited until you heard the men burst into laughter, and then pushed out. It all moved in a blur. You stumbled over your feet, trying to get off your knees, you heard the men shout in alarm, but you kept moving. They were jumping up, yelling at you, but you pumped your arms to sprint faster toward the door. You took a sharp turn right out the door and ran down the street towards the city’s center⏤ away from the direction Wynn and Elodie would need to go in.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw three men following. Good. Your plan fell apart when you turned your head to see where you were running only to collide into a firm body that sent you sprawling to the concrete ground with a grunt.

You tried to jump up, but a boot pressed down on your chest keeping you pinned on your back. A thickly built Twi’lek stared down at you with a sickening grin. His skin was a dark shade of purple and you could see an injury on his side that stained his clothes with blood.

“Well, well,” The Twi’lek hummed, “Aren’t you just adorable?”

“Oh, come on, Kiff.” One of the men who had been chasing you complained. “We saw her first!”

The Twi’lek, Kiff, shook his head and glared at the men. “Is there a reason you left a civilian alive? You had strict orders.” He drew his blaster pointing it at the men first who shuffled back a step and then he pointed it down at you. You stiffened, your hands gripping his boot, and he just smirked down at you. An excited anticipation glowing in his dark eyes. This man was looking forward to killing you. “Any last words?”

“You’re going to die.” You blurted the first thought that came to mind. His face furrowed at the threat, but you shook your head and pointed at his side. “That injury. I’d guess you have an hour at most.”

“It’s nothing. I was just grazed. Not even bleeding anymore. Nice try.” He huffed.

You were lying through your teeth, but he didn’t look like a man who knew much about anything. You kept your voice calm and firm. “I can see the bruising from where your shirt is torn. It’s not bleeding externally anymore, but you are bleeding internally. That’s where all the bruising is from.” He swallowed once and you kept on. “Right now, I bet you feel fine. Barely hurts. Give it another half hour and you’re gonna be in agony. Look at me.” You motioned down to yourself. “You think I’m wearing these scrubs for the fun of it? I’m a doctor, you ass.”

“Then I guess that means you know how to fix it.” He spat at you. Kiff put his blaster away and reached down to snatch you off the ground. You were barely on your feet when his hand clamped around your throat painfully tight. You clawed at him, trying to loosen the grip, but he didn’t even flinch. “Fix it. Now.”

“Clinc.” You gasped. “I need⏤ Clinc.”

Kiff threw you aside and you sucked in as much air as you could while trying to stay on your feet. The other pirates were still watching as Kiff buried his hand in your hair and held on like a leash. He leaned forward to press his lips near your ear. “Lead the way, bitch.”

It had taken hours too long to get to Nevarro. Din was thankful for Bo, thankful for his covert, as they agreed to help, but as his ship entered Nevarro’s atmosphere and his eyes landed on the smokey and still burning city beneath a monstrous Corsair, Din lost his breath. You were down there. You were in that mess.

“Ma? Ma!” Grogu was slamming his hands on the N1’s window. Din scooped the boy up to bring back to his lap and tucked him under his bandolier as a makeshift seat belt. 

Bo’s voice came over his comm unit, checking in to see if Din was still on board with the plan, and he was forced to agree. She was going to drop a unit of Mandalorians down to the city streets to fight, but it was up to him and Bo to take care of King Gorian Shard’s ship. As he got near, he saw a group of civilians nestled out in the lava plains. Were you there? You had to be there. Din could not wrap his mind around any other situation. 

“Let’s get this done.” Din barked gruffly over the communication line.

The sooner he burned Gorian Shard’s ship to the ground, the sooner he could find you.

The clinic was in shambles. Most of the structure itself looked intact, but a group of pirates must have ran through to scavenge for supplies because everything was sloppily tossed around. The hand tangled in your hair was roughly pulling, making your scalp ache, as you let him shove you forward into the main clinic space. You had a plan. It was a very, very bad plan, but that seemed to be the theme of the last 24 hours.

“Well, get to work then.” Kiff threw you aside before climbing up onto one of the cots. You straightened your posture and tried to steel your nerves as you approached him. He stared at you, eyes following your every moment, as you reached out to peel his shirt up. You pretended to examine his skin. “How long is this gonna take?”

“Depends.” You muttered⏤ your throat felt raw from his grip earlier. 

Kiff’s hand trailed down your side until it reached your backside. He kneaded his fingers over your ass, groping and pulling you closer, and it took all your strength to keep a steady face. You knew he was looking for a reaction. 

“I think you just wanted to get me alone.” Kiff hummed arrogantly.

“I need to grab the cautery.” You said and turned to walk toward your desk. He slid off the cot to grasp your hips and you felt a terrifying chill run down your spine as your skin crawled in disgust. “You should stay seated.”

“I think I’ll follow along.” Kiff leaned forward and you tried to ignore him as you continued toward your desk. He follow only half a step behind, large hands groping where he could reach, and you felt his hot breath on the back of your neck. When you reached the desk, your shaky hand reached for the top drawer. Kiff leaned into you, pinning you between his hips and the side of the desk, as he chuckled. “I could fuck you right here, right now. How’s that sound?”

A while back, Din tried to convince you to carry the blaster he gave you on your person at all times. You argued that a doctor shouldn’t be walking around locked and loaded. Din didn’t love your argument, but the two of you settled on a compromise. You wouldn’t wear the blaster on your hip, but you’d keep it within reach at the clinic. 

Your hand wrapped around the blaster’s grip, your finger clicking off the safety as Kiff was distracted by feeling you up, and without pause you spun and fired. He was so tangled around you that the shot only clipped his side, but it was enough to make him grunt in pain and stumble back. 

“You bitch!” He roared.

Not giving him the chance to say anything further or even to reach for a weapon, you fired again. And again, and again, and again. Your finger pulled the trigger over and over. Even after the fourth and fifth burned through his chest and he lay on the ground with blank eyes, you fired more. In fact, you didn’t stop until the blaster overheated and slipped from your shaky hands. If anyone deserved to die it was a piece of shit like him, but you had taken an oath to do no harm. You had lost patients before, that was the nature of medicine, but you had never deliberately taken a life before. 

Nausea rolled through your body as the stench of burning flesh met your nose. It was familiar to you, but only through procedures and operations. Never like this. Never caused by your hand. Panicked, the voice at the back of your head, the one that sounded like Din, pleaded for you to pick up the blaster and run. You wondered how hard you had hit your head yesterday to be hearing his voice like this. You picked up the blaster with trembling hands and hurried out of the clinic.

Lava plains. You needed to get out of this city. 

The sound of a firefight was filling the air as you began to sprint down the street, but a very familiar sight sped by overhead in a blur. The N1. Your feet came to a screeching halt. Din. Din was here. Din had come. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks in relief. You were still in the midst of a war zone, surrounded by fire, smoke, and danger, but just knowing that Din was in the vicinity came as an incredible comfort. Stumbling forward again, you tried to send out a call through your communicator once more, but it still seemed dead.

Just keep moving. Din was here now which meant everything was going to be alright. Just keep moving.

You had made decent progress down the road when the sight of a familiar body filled your view. Wynn. It took a beat before you rushed to their side. Wynn was lying on her chest so you cautiously flipped her over and a soft groan left her weary lips. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the significant wound decorating her abdomen. A blaster shot. Her dress and skin were charred from the heat of the blaster fire, but it clipped deep enough to hit an artery. That was the only explanation for the amount of blood you were seeing and the continued steady ooze. You applied pressure to the wound, to try and stop the bleeding, and Wynn didn’t even whimper in pain. Her just fluttered.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” You said, trying to convince yourself more than her.

“Elodie…” Wynn gasped.

“Reinforcements are here. You just gotta hang on⏤”

“She ran. I told her to run.” Wynn pushed the words out. “They ambushed us. I⏤I tried⏤ I tried to hold them back.” You pressed down on her abdomen harder. The blood seeping through your fingers. You bit down hard on your lower lip and tried not to cry out at how useless you felt. You knew the odds of this injury, you were fighting fate currently. “Find her⏤”

You shook your head. “I will. I will, but I have to take care of you first. You’re bleeding⏤” Wynn’s shaky breaths came to a stop as you watched the life leave her eyes. “No, no.” Frantically you felt for a pulse and when you didn’t find one, you began CPR. Desperate. Was this your fault? Maybe you should have stayed in the school house. Had you made the wrong call? After three short rounds you fell back on your heels with a shaky gasp. “Wynn?”

Her unseeing eyes stared blankly up at the sky. Tears were rolling down your cheeks again and when you tried to swipe them away you felt her hot blood, still fresh on your hands, smear across your cheek and you gasped. You tried to use your scrub top to wipe it away. 

Elodie. You had to find Elodie. Wynn’s blood was on your hands, figuratively and literally, but you had to save Elodie. You gently closed Wynn’s eyes, whispering an apology, and stumbled away. The blaster was back in your grasp and you were desperate.

“Elodie!” You yelled. Not giving a single damn if the pirates heard you. The sound of blaster fire echoed down the streets just as it rang in the air overhead. “Elodie!” You were weaving in and out of buildings as you were able and peering down any alley you passed. “El⏤”

The heat of a blaster bolt screamed past you only narrowly missing you. You threw yourself to the ground as more fired in your direction. The pile of rubble you hid behind took most of the blows, but you could hear the yelling of your attackers growing closer. Shit. Shit. Shit. Blindly, you lifted your hand to try and fire a few shots of your own, but if it made contact with anyone you didn’t hear it do so. You tried to scan the region, looking for an escape, but the two paths you saw involved running out into the open. You wouldn’t survive that.

Right as you began to try and force yourself into accepting the terrible decision of making a run for it. Louder, rapid blaster fire filled the air and the attackers screamed  briefly before it all fell quiet. Someone had killed the men firing at you. The enemy of your enemy was your friend right? Hesitantly, you peered around the rubble and the sight of Mandalorian armor made you jump back out into the street.

The Mandalorian, a large man in armor decorated in shades of blue, carried a black turrent and it swiveled toward you at the sound of your approach. You held your hands up in surrender. “Please! I need help!”

“The path is clear.” The man barked out in a deep voice and motioned down the street. The direction you knew would take you to the lava plains. “Go.”

“No, I⏤ There’s a child lost here.” You rushed to stand in front of him. His broad frame towered over you. You had always thought Din was a large Mandalorian, but this guy may as well have been a building with legs. “I need help finding her.”

“I will seek out the child. You leave the city.”

“I’m not leaving her behind.” You glared at him.

He stiffened and maybe you had just gotten good at reading Mandalorian body signals from Din, but you could tell this man was glaring at you through his helmet at your disobedience. “This area is not fully secured. Leave the city and I will⏤”

“You can’t kill pirates and search for a little girl at the same time.” You snapped. “I’ll stay and we can⏤”

“You will go⏤”

“Look at me!” You barked out with the same confidence you used to command any other emergency you had encountered. The Mandalorian looked taken aback at your tone. You kept your shoulders tight, solid, then spoke in a firm voice that gave no room for argument. “I am going to find Elodie, and you are going to mow down any pirate that gets in our fucking way. Do you understand? This is a team effort. I am not leaving that little girl behind. So either you help me, or I do this on my own.”

The Mandalorian was fuming at you. At least, that’s what you were assuming based on the silent gaze he was burning down into you. This was not debatable. You lost Wynn. You would not lose Elodie. Over your dead body would anyone hurt that little girl any further. Finally, the Mandalorian blew out an irritated sigh and bobbed his head down the street.

“Move then.” He ordered.

You pointed down an alley to the left. “I’ve already been down that way. We need to cut here to search further.” 

Without waiting for his response, you marched down the alley. Only a second passed before a heavy hand clamped down on your shoulder and roughly dragged you back. The Mandalorian scoffed. “I have the weapon. I stand in front. Understand, wero’ika?”

“Fine.” You replied. You recognized the sound of Mando’a but didn’t know the word he used. It didn’t linger long in your mind though. The two of you were pushing down the alley and despite the Mandalorian telling you to keep quiet you continued to yell out Elodie’s name. More blaster fire, getting closer, made your heart pound even harder in your chest. “Elodie!”

“I said you need to⏤” The faint sound of a response only barely reached your ears and you shushed the Mandalorian. “Did you just⏤” You shushed him again and tried to listen. His next word came out in an irritated growl. “Wero’ika.”

“I hear her. I hear Elodie.” You blurted and sprinted past him. 

His thundering footsteps stayed only a step behind you and the Mando’a words he was spitting out under his breath were all the curse words you had heard Din use a time or two. You came to the edge of an alley, right where the blaster fire was loudest, and the Mandalorian shoved you behind him once more just in time for a bolt to bounce off his beskar covered chest. Your eyes frantically scanned the street and it took you three times before your eyes found the little blonde girl tucked in a ball and sobbing as people fired over her head.

“There!” You took a step forward to try and peer out but the Mandalorian yanked you back barking something out in Mando’a. “I wasn’t gonna run out there yet! I was trying to see if there was a path I could use to get to her.”

“I will lay cover fire and you will use that time to get to the girl. Do not,” He emphasized the command, “Leave that spot until I come to you.” You nodded once, but he did not budge. “Speak. Do you understand me, wero’ika?”

“Yes! Yes, alright!”

The Mandalorian grunted once in approval then he stepped out of the alley. The black turrent he was holding open fire and the red bolts leaving it rapidly was a sight to behold. So shocked by the weapon’s range of destruction you paused until he barked out at you. Elodie. Right. You sprinted out of the alley and made a beeline for her hiding spot. The Mandalorian was firing to your right, where the pirates stood, but to your left was a wall of Mandalorians. At least three of them. Had Din brought an army of his kind?

You slid to your knees beside Elodie, setting the blaster down, and wrapped your arms around her. She screamed and squirmed, but you held on tight. “Elodie! Sweetie! It’s me! You’re safe!” You yelled over the loud blaster fire. “You’re alright!”

Her wide eyes, filled to the brim with watery fear, landed on your face and she began buried her face in your chest with sobs. Elodie’s injured arm was still wrapped up with the splint but blood was seeping through the bandage once more. You could barely understand her through her cries.

“Ms. Wynn⏤ She⏤ We⏤”

“I know, sweetie. You’re okay.” You tried to reassure her even as your stomach flipped at the mention of her teacher’s name. “Come on.” You scooped her up into your arms and she wrapped her right arm around your neck in a death grip. “Keep your head down, Elodie. Alright? Don’t look up. Just close your eyes and keep your head down.”

You felt her nod against your shoulder and shifted so you’d be crouched down, out of range, but ready to go when the Mandalorian got to you. Big Blue, as you were so kindly referring to him in your head, was still firing at the pirates but was making steady steps in your direction. The other Mandalorians continued to drift up to add to his onslaught and when they stepped side by side with him, Big Blue peeled off to rush to you. 

“Up!” He grunted, and you didn’t hesitate to listen to him then. With Elodie in your arms, you rose up and Big Blue spun you around to march toward the city’s edge and away from the battle. He kept his body pressed close to your back and every once in a while you’d hear him grunt as blaster fire pinged off his beskar. 

The three of you shifted around a mess of debris when suddenly a pirate jumped into your path. Big Blue reacted quicker than you did and he spun the both of you around so his back was acting as a shield once more. You fell to your ass, with him draped over you in protection, as the pirate rained blaster fire onto the man. On more instinct than thought, you let go of Elodie with one arm to grab the blaster tucked in Big Blue’s holster and after flicking off the safety you rapidly pulled the trigger blindly. It took multiple bolts before you heard the pirate cry out in pain and the attack ended. Big Blue glanced over his shoulder and once pleased with what he saw he shifted off of you.

“Mirdala, wero’ika.” Big Blue grunted with a nod of approval. You held his gun out to him which he took and re-holstered then he reached down to bring you back onto your feet. The sound of an explosion made you both jump in alarm, but it came from the Corsair overhead. You watched in shock as the smoking vehicle began to careen into the side of the mountain Nevarro City was nestled against and go up into fire and ash. “Come.” Big Blue pulled you to his side to try and get you moving again. “We still need to get you both to safety.”

As Big Blue guided you through the streets and the sight of the lava plains came into view, a breath of weary relief left you. The Mandalorian next to you caught you off guard by setting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a small squeeze.

The fight was over. Your brain supplied familiar words that Din had said to you once before.

The danger has passed.

Din was frantic. After landing the N1, and leaving a crying Grogu with Peli, he began to rush through the throngs of civilians looking for a familiar face. Looking for your face. As the seconds ticked by fear gripped him tighter and tighter. What if he had been too late? What if you were still in the city? Shoving past people, more roughly than he probably should have, he finally spotted someone who could point him in the right direction.

“Vanth!” Din barked and rushed to where the man was seated on a makeshift cot. He looked worse for wear. One arm was wrapped in a sling and dried blood was splattered in his hair on the right side of his head where a line of staples held together an ugly gash.

Vanth’s bloodshot eyes glanced up and at the sight of Din he shakily rose. “Hey, brother. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Are you alright?” Din asked and after Vanth nodded, in the same breath, he added, “Where is she?”

Din didn’t need to clarify who. Vanth swallowed roughly and let out a haggard sigh, “I don’t know, Mando.” His blood ran cold. “Last I heard, Mayfeld is on the search for her. I got put out of commission pretty early in the fight.” Vanth winced with every breath and word spoken. “Little doc junior, Aayla, has been patching everyone up best she can since…” 

Since you were missing.

“The fight is over now. Anybody hiding in the city will start coming out.” Vanth tried to reassure him but it fell on deaf ears. “Mando⏤”

“Sit. Rest.” Din carefully pushed Vanth back onto the cot before moving on. 

He’d scour the entire city if he had to. Din would tear down any remaining buildings left standing if it meant finding you. This was what he did, right? He hunted. His rushed steps were nothing like the calm and collected image he tried to uphold as he hurried towards the city. All his worst fears seemed to be crumbling down on him and the beskar he wore felt suffocating. Din pushed out of the crowd, nearly broke out into a sprint, when he hard your voice. Faint. It really made no sense that he’d even be able to hear it over the lively crowd and the pounding of his heart in his ears.

However, as if drawn to it, his feet came to a stop and he turned. There you were. The parents of Grogu’s friend from school were sobbing hysterically as they held a little girl in their arms. You stood right in front of them with Paz a step behind you. It was an odd sight that left Din with more questions than answers, but all his mind could focus on was you. The rest of the world may as well have grown blurry and dim.

You were in a pair of your scrubs but they were dirty and torn. Dried blood stained the front and sides. Your hair was a mess and even from the distance he was at, he could see the exhaustion radiating from your frame. Din was moving before his mind was even aware of his body’s choice. It was you. You were right there. You were standing. You were breathing. You were safe. Maker, Din felt his heart leap up into his throat as he struggled for a gasp of relief.

Din couldn’t find his voice to cry out to you, but as if you were drawn to him as well you turned and met his gaze. His feet stuttered at the sight. Dried blood covered your features, mixed with dust and soot, and there was a wound on your hairline he could see clearly. The skin around your neck was darkened with bruising. You looked like you were in shambles, but that fire he loved still remained in your gaze. Your pretty eyes burned with life and energy and determination.

“Din!” You cried and he didn’t even register the fact that you called out his name in public. He was too thankful to hear it in your voice once more. You broke out into a sprint, to meet him halfway, and as soon as you were close enough Din snatched you into his arms in a bruising grip. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as your face buried into his shoulder and if Din wasn’t so worried about jarring any of your current injuries he would’ve crushed you even tighter in his hold. “Din, I⏤ Din. Din.” Your body shook with sobs as you struggled to find words. For a beat all that could spill out was his name, but every time the sound left your lips Din felt the tight coil of fear in his chest loosen. “You’re here.”

“I am. I am, ner kar’ta, and I’m never leaving again.” He murmured to you. A promise. Din’s gloved hand buried itself in the back of your hair to pull you even closer. It took all of his strength to not rip his helmet off right now. Redemption be damned. “Ni ceta, ner kar’ta. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I should have been here.”

The only reason he was able to tear himself away from you was to examine your wounds. The injury at your hairline had scabbed over and it seemed the only other injury you had were the faint bruising around your neck. It would worsen before it got better and it was not lost on Din that the darker shade was in the shape of a hand.

“Who?” The word left his lips in a near growl. Din cupped your face and tried to swipe away tears, dried blood, and soot. His hand trailed down to lightly brush against your neck. “Who did this?”

“One of the⏤ One of the pirates. It’s a long story, I⏤” You took in a shaky breath and Din could see how close you were to crumbling. “He’s dead. I… I shot him. With the blaster I keep in my desk. I shot him.” Good. Din could see the heartbreak in your eyes, the pain, and he hated more than anything that responsibility had fallen onto your shoulders. That you had been forced into that position. Truly, you had done the pirate a favor⏤ shown him mercy. Because if he were still breathing, Din would tear the bastard apart limb from limb. “I lost your blaster. I’m so sorry⏤”

“Don’t. Stop.” Din leaned his head down to press his forehead against yours. He took in a slow breath. You were here. You were safe. You were in his arms. Din’s heart finally began to calm. “All that matters is you.”

Your hands had found his neck and the way your fingers dug through his collar told him that you were as desperate as he was for skin to skin contact. Din just needed to reassure himself that you were fine. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of you to ensure that nothing was wrong. That you were fine. It was a craving not born of lust, but concern.

“Grogu.” You breathed out in a ragged gasp. “Where’s Grogu? I need to see him. I need⏤” Din’s eyes darted over your shoulder where Elodie’s parents were still smothering their child. Something had happened in the city, you had obviously saved that girl in some way, and Din knew your desperation to see Grogu had something to do with that. “Din?”

“He’s alright. He’s safe.” Din wrapped his arm around you tightly, not willing to let go quite yet, and began to lead you back through the crowd to find where Peli was. People called out comments of relief and comfort to you as he led you through. It seemed he hadn't been the only one worried about you.

The sound of Grogu’s cries could be heard and you rushed out of Din’s arms to find the source, “Grogu!?” Din paused as he spotted Peli holding the boy as you rushed toward them. Grogu’s cries were halted and replaced with panicked wailing as he squirmed out of Peli’s arms to jump into yours. You collapsed to the ground with the boy buried in your chest. “Hey, baby. I’m here. I was so worried about you.”

Grogu continued to cry as you whispered reassurances to him. A small smile pulled up the corner of Din’s lips. For the first time in hours, he felt his shoulders relax. He took a step forward, to join his family, when familiar steps settled beside him. Paz crossed his arms and watched the reunion between you and Grogu as well.

“She saved that little girl.” Paz spoke with a hum. “She’s brave. Reckless, but brave.”

“I know.” Din replied, beaming with pride. Everything he had said to the Armorer had been true. You may not have taken the oath, walked the Way, or adorned a helmet, but you were Mandalorian through and through. It was in your spirit and soul. 

Paz nodded. “That is the one you spoke of? The woman you plan to court?”

“Yes.” Din didn’t add that you were the woman he planned to marry as well. It didn’t need to be said now or like this. Just knowing was enough for him.

“But you have yet to present her with a token of intention?”

“Not…yet.” Din turned his head to look at his brother with suspicion. .

“Hm. Perhaps, I’ll offer her a token first.” Paz chuckled. Din barked out a curse and it only made Paz laugh harder. You had risen from the ground and glanced over at the noise. Paz slapped his hand roughly against Din’s back, making him stumble, and then gave you a firm nod. “Good work, wero’ika. I was proud to share the battlefield with you.”

Din continued to glare at Paz’s retreating figure, but at the sound of your approach his gaze softened. You were still holding Grogu close to your chest as if you were afraid someone would come and snatch him away. Din understood the irrational fear. It was why as soon as you were in reach he pulled you and Grogu into his own arms. With another sigh, Din let his eyes flutter close as he rested his head on top of yours while you leaned into his chest. You were safe. His family was back together. 

What more could he ask for?

mando'a translations

Ni ceta: I'm sorry Mirdala: clever Wero'ika: little problem Ner kar'ta: my heart

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilraa @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis @javicstories @ezzynf @bravotwelve @cookielovesbook-akie @coolbanana44 @kittenlittle24

[expectopatronum18]

Unpopular opinion but......

Am I the only one who misses the og marauders? The marauders fandom isn't even about the marauders now, 99% of their canon personality traits hv been replaced with cliqued behaviour. For some reason there's a massive obsession with their sexuality and I just don't get it? Lyk can't u have a character with any sexual orientation with personality traits outside it anymore? Does there really need to be a complete erasure of their most defining traits? I just wish we could get the actual marauders era characters back

James Potter: Pureblood, rich, intelligent, arrogant, a bully, but extremely loyal; took Sirius in and turned into an animagus for his werewolf bestie when the whole world would have shunned him; he could have led a life of utmost comfort but chose to risk his life and fight for those he loved in a war that didn't even concern him personally. His last words were asking his wife and child to escape while he tried to hold voldy off without a wand

Sirius Black: Haughty, a bully, extremely good looking, cool, rich, blood traitor by 16, comes from a family of literal death eaters, very intelligent, loyal, will do anything for those he loves( especially james and later Harry), thick as hell (my boy really survived in a depression prison for 12yrs, tht too after all the horror he'd seen before that), dark, very traumatized and broken

Remus Lupin: Gentle (yup u read that right), kind, mischievous (ppl really overlook this), very insecure, let james and Sirius bully Snape coz he was too thankful for their acceptance and affection to tell them off, considered himself undeserving of love, his self loathing prevents him from being a responsible adult/ parent for Harry, lowkey manipulative. Very compassionate and empathetic even after everything he's been thru tho

Peter Pettigrew: Considered slow and stupid, insecure, tags along with the others for protection, but obviously cunning and manipulative, a disgusting rat tho

Regulus Black: Teenage Reggie worshipped death eaters, he had newspaper clippings of them on his wall, completely believed in those racist ideologies until he realised what the reality of being a death eater was. He tried to bring voldy down but there's no evidence of him completely changing his beliefs about everything else like muggle borns, muggles, werewolves etc. Very cunning and intelligent tho, he discovered voldemort's secret before Dumbledore did. Liked kreacher but kreacher was also brainwashed with pureblood ideology, so I ll only give him half the credit. Bravely sacrificed his life in the end, but he still chose to protect his racist family.

Lily Evans: muggleborn, good at portions, described as popular and vivacious, pretty, the favourite sibling, isn't afraid of standing up to ppl (tht smirk in swm tho?), very brave, and most importantly (ppl really choose to forget this nowadays) a mother who stood in front of her baby boy in hopes of saving him from the darkest wizard alive even tho she herself was only 21 at the time, tht too right after losing her husband. Tho I'd still say that lily is a badly written character

It's fun to explore characters but not one of these core characteristics r even present. They're turned into one dimensional social justice warriors who r always right in everything they do

Now I get it, ppl want them to fit with current day ideals, but y not just create different/new characters then? What's the point of holding on to that nostalgia if most of their character isn't even there anymore? Where's all the toxicity coming from? And anyone who doesn't agree is homophobic and whatever other -phobic u choose to employ in the most irrelevant context ever. It's all so stupid smh🙄