#beast that has taken over the last year of my life

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@purplecladmerchant hi hello happy naddtreat !!!!!!! heres some uncensored zirks for you!!!!!!

for @naddpodgifting (thank u for organizing!!!)

[cosmowgyral]

Falling into Sin with the Black Tiger ~ Gilbert's 4th Birthday

▪︎ A Story from his POV

This is a fan translation so please don't expect it to be 100% accurate. Creative liberties have been taken. All content belongs to Cybird. Reblogs are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

NSFW/MDNI

I thought the beast of destruction was a greedy creature.

Countries and people alike, can go to any lengths to get what they want.

Despite my self-confidence, I didn't realise it until I was asked, "What do you want?"

I hadn't really thought much about what lay ahead after obtaining everything.

Emma: Gil, aren’t you going to sleep?

After returning to my room from the ballroom, I was gazing aimlessly at the sky when Emma, who had been lying down, suddenly sat up.

Gilbert: I thought I’d bask in the afterglow of my birthday a little longer.

Emma: Then I’ll join you.

She embraced me from behind and the cold night air turned into warmth.

(I noticed that you weren’t sleeping and was waiting for you to join my company…..)

(If I say it out loud, I might get into trouble.)

Gilbert: You should go to sleep.

Emma: I can’t sleep.

Gilbert: Even though we did all sorts of things?

Emma: ……

Just by lightly tracing the hand that had been hugging me, Emma began to get flustered.

The corners of my mouth quirked as I felt the quick increase in heartbeat from my back.

(Maybe I went too far.)

--*flashback from the dining room*--

Emma: Mmm….aahh…your fingers…nghh

Gilbert: You want me to take them out? But I’m not moving them.

Emma: Nnn....you’re lying….

Gilbert: You know I hate lies.

Emma: Aaaahh

Gilbert: See, you’re acting on your own again.

Emma: No…Gil….you just bit my breasts.

Gilbert: It’s cruel to blame others.

Emma: A…ahhh...

--*flashback ends*--

(But it couldn’t be helped. She had a face that was saying “please eat me”.)

When we returned to my room from the dining room, or when we took a bath to wash our messy bodies….

I liked Emma’s reactions, how she tried her best to respond despite being embarrassed, and so I ended up being a little too mean.

Emma: Maybe because of all the things that happened to me��I can’t sleep at all.

Gilbert: You’re right. It’s no wonder you can’t sleep if you’re this anxious.

Emma: …So you can hear my heartbeat.

As Emma tried to move away feeling flustered, I grabbed her hand and pushed her down onto the bed.

Pressing my ear against her soft chest, I could hear her heartbeat more clearly.

Gilbert: It’s becoming faster again.

Emma: That’s how much I love you.

Gilbert: Hehe, thanks?

(The date has changed and so my birthday is over now.)

(You give me what I want every day.)

(I know you’re the only one who will never betray me, even without any threats or domination.)

As she caresses my hair in a pampering manner, the drowsiness is overshadowed by a sinful feeling.

When I poked the bulge visible through her negligee, a sweet sigh escaped from Emma’s mouth.

Emma: What are you doing?

Gilbert: It was right in front of me.

Emma: …Not now.

Gilbert: Because it will come back again?

Emma nodded without understanding a thing.

Gilbert: If you really don’t like it, I can stop….

I pulled up the hem of her nightgown and stroked my fingers between her legs.

It was so wet that it couldn’t have been caused by simple teasing, and it immediately swallowed my fingers.

Gilbert: Is this why you can’t sleep?

Emma: Ahh…again..

Gilbert: It’s a problem to be loved this much, isn’t it?

If I expose Emma’s weakness deep inside her belly, her poor, tormented lower abdomen will soon start dripping with her honey.

Gilbert: Does this mean ‘I love you’?

Emma: That’s….right…

Gilbert: Heehee, I see.

(No matter how many times I experience your ‘love’, it always feels good.)

I massaged her breasts over her negligee, also moving my fingers inside her to scoop out her arousal.

The love I sensed in her warm gaze was genuine.

Even though I’m such a terrible man, Emma always loves me.

(You asked me to be selfish on my birthday this year….)

(I thought my last selfish wish in life was to meet you.)

(I made up a reason to go to Rhodolite and get involved with Emma, even if it meant ruining her life.)

(I had never thought of anything more selfish than that, and I could never think of anything else.)

When I kissed a breathless Emma, she put her hands behind my head as if welcoming me.

I was moved by the way she kissed me, as if conveying that she wasn’t opposed to this at all.

(….Now that I think about it, it seemed obvious.)

(It’s only recently that I’ve started thinking about my future.)

When our lips part, a thread hangs in the dim light.

Emma: You too, Gil….

Gilbert: Hmm?

Emma’s hand rested on my cheek, and I was smiling kindly, too kind for a villain.

Emma: You act like you love me.

Gilbert: Hehe, isn’t that obvious?

Gilbert: I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t love you.

I pull out my fingers from inside her and help her sit up.

Emma seemed to understand my intentions immediately, and blushing bright red, she climbed on to my lap.

(I’m spending time now that shouldn’t have existed in the first place.)

(And if you plan on staying here from now on….)

(Maybe it is a good idea to take some time to think of my own future.)

(Most of my memories are already made up of blood and corpses, painted all black…)

(The memories we make give me hope for the future.)

Emma lowered herself on me, and hugged me tightly.

Emma: Haah…Gil…

Gilbert: You’re okay with moving on your own again?

Emma: That’s…not true…

Emma said “that’s not true”, but as she moved her hips she lets out a small shriek.

It seemed she had moved unconsciously, and again, I couldn’t help but laugh.

(When I’m with you, I feel so happy.)

(…I’m sure Emma knows very well what it means for me to be happy.)

I secretly watched Emma bustling about preparing for my birthday, but this year too, I couldn’t keep a smile on my face.

I imagine Emma had her own thoughts about giving her blessings to the great villain.

Even so, I didn’t sense any hesitation.

She had already made up her mind to celebrate this blood-soaked man.

Emma: I think…you’ll be asked…'what you want to do’ next year as well.

Emma: So please, give it…a lot of thought.

Emma: I’ll make all your wishes come true.

Gilbert: Does that mean you won't be listening to me until next year?

Emma: If you have one now…please…ah

I intentionally move my body and Emma’s expression changes again.

I never get tired of her expressions filled with ‘love’.

(For now, all I can say is….)

Gilbert: I’d love to go on a date with you again.

Emma: Like…the other day?

Gilbert: Yeah. I like spending casual times like that.

Emma: Me too.

Gilbert: After that….

Bodies intertwined, lips pressed together, heartbeats synchronized, and then our gazes meet and we smile together.

Gilbert: Will you celebrate my birthday next year too?

(And commit many more sins…)

(Will you fall with me?)

[Chapter 3] [Masterlist]

He loves her sooo much omg, I really LOVED this story. I'm so glad he's happy.

Also when he said he went to Rhodolite for her....god, I just hate to imagine him going there for her, only for her to end up with the other princes (in other routes). Even though Silvio's my favourite, I feel miserable.

[just-trying-to-fangirl-in-peace]

Tides of fate (Sauron x fem!Elf!reader)

-> in which your newly returned husband is unsure of the path ahead, and the sea itself tries to deter you from the one you choose together

Warnings: evil!reader, smut (sneaky handjob in a public place, brief descriptions of p in v), probably inaccuracies of canon geography/lore to suit the fic, somewhat repentant Sauron stands a teeny tiny chance of being better but reader is an ‘I can make him worse’ kinda girl

Note: part of the evil!reader collection. If you’re new, reader has been married/soulbound to Sauron since before Adar killed him and infiltrated herself in Eregion as a smith while she waited for his return, but came to find him when his presence became strong enough through their bond again.

Mature content below the cut—minors DNI!!!

Halbrand.

Whilst the other passengers on the ship are asleep, he lies awake with his new name and his new face, heading into what is to be a new life. He has yet to decide whether it should be different from the one before, but one thing he knows beyond all certainty—you shall be by his side, body and soul, until existence itself is no more.

You lie in his arms as he sits reclined against a pile of cargo, with your head resting upon his heart. Even aslumber, you seem to cling to him, your fingers ever so slightly curled in the ragged shirt he wears. Halbrand himself refrains from tightening his hold around your waist to the point where he might wake you, and contents himself only with soft caresses of your hair as he cradles you close. Weeks after you had nursed him back to his solid form, there are still times when you feel you must convince yourselves that you are together once more, and the long wait is over.

It had taken a while for the frenzy to pass, once he had been remade. For his newly woven flesh to find relief, if only in part, from the yearning with which it burned for yours.

The first time he’d had you in this body is a blur in his mind, nothing left of it but white-hot flashes of rampant breathing, wails and growls, skin slapping against skin. No sooner had he breathed the air into his new lungs than he had claimed your mouth, fell with you to the ground on the very spot where his new feet had first touched it, and begged to have his wife. A beast rutting into his mate in the snow is what he had been reduced to. On an open trail, beneath the open sky, he had ploughed into you with wild abandon, searing the pleasure of every thrust into his soul as if it would be the last he ever tastes.

He had not known, when last you had been by his side before Adar’s betrayal, that you would be out of his reach for centuries to come, that the very memory of his beloved’s embrace would slip from his grasp with the long years, sunk into the black depths of a rudimentary shape which had forgotten what it was to feel at all. And so the moment he had at last regained a form that could, he had grasped, seized, clawed the feeling of being one with you back into himself.

And you had sunk your nails into his new flesh, christened it with scratches, marking it as yours. He remembers your tight heat, your shrill moans, your tears as you begged him for more, even after your peak. He remembers his frustrated curses when his fresh, tragically human form had softened beyond his control after spilling inside you only once, and your sweet laugh in his ear, nowhere near judgmental as you reassured him that with time, his Maia prowess shall return to spare him such tedious whims of a mortal’s flesh.

“You are still extraordinary, my love,” you had praised with an adoring nibble of his humanly round ear. “A true mortal man as starved as you would not have even made it all the way inside.”

It was, perhaps, for the best. For you might have fucked the very life out of yourself on his cock in those first few days, if not for the occasional need for respite. His partial oblivion, though nothing short of agonizing, had stripped him, at times, of the knowledge of what he was missing. Your longing for your husband had shredded your heart through every single moment of the centuries you had been apart, vivid as ever in your mind and soul. The hollow in your bond had never subsided into anything less than a freshly severed limb, forever bleeding from an open wound. The only reason you had not withered away was that last glimmer of feeling, barely there but undeniably real, that your husband had not passed beyond your reach completely and forever.

For weeks you had remained in those woods, unwilling to do anything but be together. Even if you weren’t making love, you were hardly ever not touching, and it cost you even to pry yourselves away to hunt or gather wood—an effort that much greater since his prowess did gradually return, as you had been most certain that it would.

As you lay in his arms, you spoke to him of the world, all the ways it had changed and all the ways it had not. The dealings of Elves, Dwarves and Men nowadays. The life you had secured for yourself in Eregion, the opportunities it held. A power over flesh. All it did was remind him of the last words he had spoken to Adar’s wretched Orcs before they had butchered him, and the only power he found himself craving was that of feeling your flesh, beneath, against and around his. And you were oh so willing to grant it to him.

The last night before your voyage, you had looked so beautiful, bathed in moonlight and the warm glow of the fire beside you as you rode your husband slowly, savouring every drag of his cock within you. He sat up, holding you close, watching in awe as you took what you needed, and gave him all he craved. His tears do not spill easily, but they had burned behind his eyes as you threw back your head and cried out your release, bringing forth his own. You were everything. His wife. His soul.

His Queen.

He had once sworn he would not rest until the whole of Middle-Earth had been brought to its knees to worship the pair of you, side by side. That nothing less would ever be enough.

Lying beside you by the fire, he was not so certain anymore.

“My love,” he had whispered as you ran your fingers through his unruly hair, “where do you wish to go?”

It was the first time either of you had spoken of your heading, rather than acting as though where you were now was all there was.

You had frowned ever so slightly, as though surprised he even had to ask, and murmured, “With you.”

The following morning, you began your journey. Eregion was your destination, as you had anticipated all throughout his long absence. To follow his weak presence through your bond and find him in Forodwaith, you had left your false life with the Elves claiming to be visiting distant kin. He had yet to spin a tale justifying his joining you upon your return, and he found it more difficult than usual to do so when he didn’t seem to be sure of his goal once you had reached the Elven kingdom. You noticed, of course, but kept your mind at a thoughtful distance, knowing he would speak his in his own time.

When a group of Men crossed your path, it was the first time since his return that you were in the presence of others. With the bit of shape-shifting ability received from your husband upon the forging of your bond, you had made the pointed tips of your ears recede into a round shape to match your husband’s current one. You were to pass as human travellers, unworthy of a second glance.

But an old man, whose name Halbrand had later learned to be Diarmid, halted to inform you of the danger ahead. You must have spent longer in Forodwaith than you thought, for you had not encountered the armies of Orcs described by Diarmid when you had come seeking your husband. The man had spoken of embracing the uncertain tides of fate in hopes of a brighter future—a sentiment embodied, in his view, by a piece of heraldry he wore which had belonged to kings long gone, whose mighty path had crumbled as easily as a less fortunate one might prove to lead into a better place.

This belief of the man touched something in Halbrand, birthed a dim spark of a feeling akin to hope. You, on the other hand, did not seem as affected by his words, or his warm invitation for you and your husband to join his people on their intended voyage to a new life across the sea. No sooner had he moved on than you began to scheme.

“A symbol of royalty with no one left to claim it? That might prove useful,” you said under your breath as the two of you remained standing by the passing group of Men. “We could take it, and their ship. Sail to Lindon instead of risking a run-in with Orcs on the way to Eregion. I have quite enough connections there as well.”

You didn’t need to speak the details for him to know the exact intent behind your words. He was stronger in his power now than he had been when this body was fresh, and you were a force to be reckoned with yourself. The two of you fighting as one could cut through the humans like butter, leaving only enough to man the ship to your desired destination under your forceful command. It would have been easy enough, nothing you hadn’t done before.

“Or perhaps we might sail with them,” Halbrand suggested instead, driven by a sudden impulse.

“Into the West?” you asked quizzically, trying to figure out a purpose of which he was not sure himself. “Is there something you wish to achieve in Númenor, or thereabouts?”

“What I wish,” he said, meeting your eyes, “is for you to come with me.”

Like you’d said you would.

And you did. With but a curious look and a slight furrow of your brow, you placed your hand in his and joined him on this new path, though neither of you was sure where it would lead.

After the weeks—or had it been months?—spent in a near perpetual embrace in the wilderness, the lack of privacy on the ship proved quite the challenge. For plain communication, your bond would have sufficed, but even there a certain veil of concealment had fallen between you. For the more you began to suspect where his intentions might be straying, the less eager you were to breach the subject.

But you hardly ever left one another’s side, and spent each night in the closest embrace appropriate to the rather crowded circumstances, as you are doing now. He never sleeps, and pretending to do so would be a most tedious chore for the sake of avoiding suspicion, if it weren’t for his wife nestled comfortably within his arms. Some nights, however, he finds himself too deep in troubled thoughts for his eyes to remain closed, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“Nightmares again?” Diarmid questions, lifting his head from his own makeshift pillow closeby. He lowers his eyes to you as he says with a knowing lilt, “One would think such a warm embrace can bring peace to even the most troubled of minds.”

His remark lacks any trace of envy, his gaze on you admiring without coveting, and so Halbrand is not enraged by either. He looks down, his eyes following the soft trails drawn by his fingers as they caress your hair.

“She is all the peace I know,” he murmurs.

“But you are haunted still.”

His fingers halt, resting upon your head.

“I’ve done evil,” he confesses. We have done evil, would be the more truthful statement. But so charming and joyful you had made yourself appear to your fellow passengers, he would be taken for a liar. He can only imagine how loved you are in Eregion—how loved you would be anywhere.

“All of us have done things that we care not to admit,” Diarmid replies, seemingly unfazed by Halbrand’s grim admission. How naïve for a mortal man of his age, the Maia thinks, to so easily give the benefit of his doubt to a near stranger.

“Not like I have,” he presses on. What is the purpose of this conversation, he wonders? To test whether he would be cast out? To hear the man lie again, that there is another path for him than that of suffering he has known so far?

Is that a lie?

Diarmid ponders his words. “Your wife,” he says then, as if in answer to his inner musings. “How did you come to be wed?”

You had maintained that much truth in your façade, for obvious reasons. It is a piece of truth Halbrand reveals now as well.

“We were undone,” he says in a dark rasp, “and we remade ourselves by swallowing each other whole.”

A hoarse chuckle escapes the old man. “What a way you have with words, lad. Isn’t that a most dreary manner of saying you have healed one another?” When Halbrand looks at him, guarded, he thankfully knows better than to insist upon the details. “And she knows of this... evil you say you have done?”

Halbrand gives a nod.

“And yet,” Diarmid says, voice softening with a kind of wise tenderness, “she looks at you as though you hold the very sun above her head in the palm of your hand.”

A most uninspired metaphor. Sunlight had become too bright for your eyes, after years spent in the dark heat of Morgoth’s fortress. You do not thrive in it, but rather under grey skies, with cold air caressing your cheeks. But the sentiment he means to express is perfectly true.

“And it is plain to see,” Diarmid adds, “that you love her a great deal as well.”

There is not a single false word in that sentence. You give the lightest stir in your husband’s arms, softly nuzzling his shirt in your sleep, and Halbrand, Sauron, Mairon—everything and everyone he had ever been burns with adoration as he holds you just that little bit closer.

“You cannot imagine,” he murmurs, with nearly as raw a sincerity as only you can draw from him.

Diarmid laughs warmly. “Oh, I can, lad,” he says with a trace of wistfulness. “I can.”

His eyes drift to the distance, as he no doubt remembers some past love of his. And a great one it may have been, but he shall never know what it is to bind his very soul with another’s, to be so inextricably intertwined as the pair of you have made yourselves to be.

Halbrand says nothing, leaving the old man to his imaginings. But Diarmid soon returns from them, and gives his supposed younger a sage look.

“So, you see,” he goes on, “whatever you’ve done in your past, she has forgiven it. Now, you must find forgiveness within yourself. You are alive, holding the woman you love in your arms, because you have chosen good.”

“What of tomorrow?” Halbrand asks, almost a challenge.

“You have to choose it again.” Diarmid gives a small chuckle, as though the answer is most obvious. “And the next day, and the next, until it becomes a part of your nature.”

His nature. Good had been his nature. Once.

He wonders, had you met him as Mairon, whether your souls would still be as one now. Whether you might have lived as Melian and Thingol did, rulers over a kingdom of light, protectors against Morgoth’s darkness rather than partial cause of its spread.

But it feels like a betrayal to imagine a love any different than the one he has known with you, even if it’s still a version of you with whom he contemplates such a thing. Because in the end, it would not be you. Morgoth had stripped you of the Elf you had been as brutally as he had disposed of the once Mairon, though with the Maia, he had made the pain seem so much sweeter in the beginning. You had not fallen in love with songs and poems, with you dancing in a field of flowers and him finding himself struck dumb by your beauty. Your bond had been forged in the hottest and cruellest of flames, and was all the stronger for it. This all-consuming passion, this ruthless obsession of yours, which scorches everything and everyone in its path—nothing less would ever suffice.

Seeing that Halbrand has become lost in thought upon hearing his words, Diarmid gives him one last friendly smile and pat upon his shoulder, then turns away to settle back to sleep. Not long after, quiet snores begin to leave him.

That is when you give a light hum, and shift so that your cheek rests on your husband’s shoulder and your eyes meet.

“What a way you have with words, lad,” you tease softly.

The slightest smile tugs at Halbrand’s lips. “It isn’t proper to eavesdrop.”

“It seemed as though you were having a moment.” Your teasing smile dims as you add, even more quietly, “It seemed as though you wanted it.”

You bring your hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb through the light stubble that now adorns it. You seem to like this form of his, imperfectly human as it is, and nothing pleases him quite like pleasing you. His eyes fall shut as he leans into your touch, taking your wrist in a gentle hold and pressing his lips to the palm of your beloved hand.

“My love...” he begins, but you rest your fingertips upon his mouth.

“I know.” You sigh, letting your hand fall back to his chest. “I know. You’ve been... different, since you have returned. Not only in body. After all this time, what you have endured... I know you are faltering. That you lack direction.”

“And yet you followed me blindly.”

“Always,” you smile, though it’s short-lived. “But... if forgiveness is what you seek... from them...” Your brow creases, voice becoming pained as you lift your head from his shoulder to meet his gaze properly. “My love, we have been here once before.”

“I know,” he says firmly, wrapping your hand in his. “I would not take such a risk again.”

Like he did at the end of the First Age. When, in the wake of Morgoth’s defeat, he’d had a mind to seek pardon from the Valar rather than await their retribution. He had witnessed their might as they decimated his master’s dark forces, and Sauron himself now lacked an army with which to retaliate, should they seek him out. All he had was you, and in his wish to keep you, and in the haze of his new-found freedom from Morgoth’s clenched fist, he had entertained the thought that perhaps the Valar might consider your union, a defiance of Morgoth in itself, to be proof of your renouncing his authority even since before his defeat. Surely, they could be persuaded that all, or at least most of your vile deeds, had been for the sake of each other, to spare your beloved from Morgoth’s wrath. And to a certain extent, it was true.

But the opposite happened. The Valar had deemed your bond unnatural, volatile, forged in too deep a darkness to be anything but a force of destruction. If you truly wished to be pardoned, you were to allow it to be undone. He was to return to Valinor whilst you remained in Middle-Earth, serving to rebuild what Morgoth had destroyed until you had proven beyond doubt you had put your foul ways behind you. Only then would you be allowed passage into the West to be rejoined with your husband, should your love endure such prolonged distance and transformation from the beings you had been when you met.

Servitude would already have been nigh impossible to swallow. But separation—that was unfathomable. It was cruelty beyond imagining, from beings who had the audacity to claim they were righteous and fair. You and your husband had been left with no choice, then, but to seek out a power which would make you gods in your own right. Power over flesh, power over Middle-Earth.

Separation came anyway, only in a different form, the path you had most wanted to evade forced upon you by Adar’s treachery instead of the Valar’s so-called justice. But as great a blow as it might have been, the aftershocks of it spanning over so much time, it didn’t break either of you beyond repair. As Sauron, he has known many setbacks, failures, betrayals. He is not afraid. Even when he sought pardon before, he tells himself, he was being cautious, practical.

But he is, perhaps... tired. So tired.

“You told me you have no wish to return to your life with the Elves,” he breaks the silence you had let fall between you, patiently awaiting the further words you sensed he had to say. “Númenor is said to be a paradise, ripe with opportunity. A smith of great skill and his equally gifted wife are most likely to thrive in such a place.”

Though he speaks in statements, you hear the question they conceal. You had long suspected he had been harbouring such thoughts, and your eyes shift uneasily upon hearing them.

“I can’t say I haven’t thought of it,” you confess in the end. “That perhaps we might simply... be together, as so many others are, and that would be enough. But even if we could find it in ourselves to put Middle-Earth behind us and let Adar go unpunished for what he did...” Your hand grips his painfully as you shut your eyes for a moment, striving not to raise your voice above a tense whisper. “I cannot bear to live in fear any longer. Wondering whether or not the Valar will finally deem us worthy or harmless enough to leave us be. Seeking to appease a higher power whose breath is constantly at the back of my neck even when I cannot see it, like... like he was. Is that not why we put such thoughts aside before, and sought to claim the power that we did? To gain control, bring about a new order—our order?” You lean in closer, the despair in your eyes giving way to determination as you stare into his with each and every searing word. “You know we are meant to be more than this. The Valar may not favour us, but fate does. It’s why our paths crossed in the first place, and why we found our way back to each other time and again, despite Morgoth, and Adar, and all who would have seen us apart. It’s why we will prevail.”

It’s so taxing, keeping the intensity of your words’ sentiment quiet, that the release comes in the form of tears slipping from your eyes. Your husband’s brow creases, leaving your hand to lie upon his quickening heart as he cups both of your cheeks.

“All this time...” he whispers, thumbs brushing your tears like they are priceless gems, “all these centuries, you have kept your faith in our vision. In us.”

He knows all too well how strong you are, how ruthless in your resolve, but sometimes, the sheer might of your devotion to him still knocks the breath from his lungs.

A teary chuckle escapes you. “Had you not spent all those centuries as a barely sentient liquid, I’m sure you’d have done the same. Not to mention,” you add, seeking to lighten the mood with a touch of coyness, “you promised me a crown, my love. And I shall not let you rest until you have put it upon my head, and I have known what it is to be a true Queen, worshipped by all beings,” you lean so that your lips ghost over his as you whisper alluringly, “and by her King most ardently of all.”

He gives in with a subdued groan, catches your lips in a fleeting kiss—then presses a thumb to the soft flesh beneath your chin to better his hold on you and keep you at bay.

“My love,” he rasps out in warning, eyes roving over your face, “do not tempt me so when I cannot have you as I please.”

A wicked smile spreads across your lips, and your softly-spoken words are the sweetest siren song, calling him to his doom. “You can have me, my love. We can have anything we wish.” Your hand begins a most audacious journey down his chest and along his tensing stomach, disappearing beneath the blanket covering the both of you above the waist. “They are nothing,” you go on, nimbly working open his trousers. “What they see, what they think of us now, will be nothing once we have brought them under our rule.”

Even with the blanket covering you, if someone were to look closely, they would likely be able to discern the precise location and intent of your hand. Quite frankly, Halbrand cannot bring himself to care if they did notice either, not when his wife takes his flesh in a nearly cruel grip. His cock grows and hardens in helpless answer to your beckoning, and this, he thinks for the one thousandth time, is the sole kind of helplessness which sets his blood aboil with desire rather than rage. It takes but a few strokes, dry and curt, and he is swollen, aching, the veins in his neck straining as he bites back a growl.

As for you, it’s a struggle not to rub yourself against his leg like a warg in heat. But it is his pleasure you wish to achieve, not your own. You press your lips to those captivating lines of tension on his neck, and swipe a thumb over the tip of him to find it wet. He remains discreet in sound, if not in expression, but you feel the spike of his pleasure through your bond as you keep caressing that most sensitive part of his cock. All of a sudden, his hand is at the back of your neck, and he pulls you down so that your cheek is pushed into his chest, his chin resting the slightest bit too heavily upon your head. Like this, you feel his rampant heartbeat, his ragged breathing, the tremors you send throughout his body with each and every stroke of his length.

It’s an illusion of control, he knows, crushing you to his chest whilst the heart within it contorts and threatens to unspool back into a pile of black slime, taken apart by your words and touch. He lets you break from his hold the moment you rebel out of it, and plant your chin upon his shoulder.

“I kept my faith, because I could see us,” you whisper, your hot breath in his ear plunging straight to his cock as you pump him into a silent frenzy. “I can see what we will become, and it is so... so beautiful. Do you see us, love?” you all but whimper, as though your words alone bring you as much pleasure as the glide of his length within your fist does him. “Can you see your Queen, spread upon our throne... wearing nothing but the jewels you have given me and the crown upon my head... as your tongue swears fealty between my legs? Can you see me do the same, on my knees before my Lord and King?”

Oh, he can. So many times he’s had you, in so many ways, but the thought of you worshipping each other whilst you are being worshipped across all of Middle-Earth, taking pleasure in one another as well as the symbols of your power... That had always wrought a particular kind of havoc upon his loins, proportionate in might to the high brought by the prospect of victory in itself. And you know that damn well, as well as all the right ways to caress and graze and squeeze and knead to play his body like a harp into the very melody you wish to elicit, regardless of the form he takes, for you might as well be nestled beneath his skin, living and breathing among the strings you so deftly pluck with your ruinous fingertips. Your touch, your words, moulding his mind as you please—is this what one feels like, he wonders, when Sauron the Deceiver slithers his way into their unsuspecting thoughts?

But this is no deceit. This is his wife, his soul, reminding him of his true self, just as you did when you first found what had been left of him in Forodwaith, and put him back together. His hips jerk into the movements of your hand, seeking you out, uncaring of the people who might wake and see him being undone by your touch. You are right. They are nothing. You are all there is, and all there ever shall be.

You chuckle as he chases his breath, and bite his earlobe—hard. It may not be the sensitive tip of an Elf’s pointed ear, but the jolt of pain lights a fire beneath his skin that scorches everything in its path, and no amount of control over his form could have prevented him from spilling his seed right there and then. The growl he lets loose would have surely roused those sleeping closest by, if not for your sudden grip on his throat and lips covering his, swallowing his rough breaths. He spills and spills as you stroke him through his release, until the exquisite throbbing in his cock has finally run its most fulfilling course.

To think there was a time he knew not what it was to crave another, nor did he care to know—and then he had known you. The pleasure of his flesh might as well have your initials engraved into it.

You loosen your grip on his throat as you break the kiss, and that hand goes instead to tenderly brush a lock of dark hair from his temple. You seem awfully pleased with yourself when he opens his eyes into yours, and he doesn’t shy away from admitting that you very well should be. The hand with which you had pleasured him emerges from beneath the blanket with his spent glistening on your fingers, and you hold his gaze as you rest the digits on his bottom lip. The tip of his tongue darts out slightly, tasting what you have done to him. What you always do. He wraps his lips around your fingers, scrapes them lightly with his teeth, and something softens in your eyes.

“I want more,” you whisper, nothing short of a goddess reduced to her most vulnerable self. “I want everything. But I need only for you to want me.”

His new heart lurched in his chest. As if he could ever stop. As if there could ever be more, be anything, if there was no you and him.

He knows much better than to take your words as an admittance of defeat, however. If he truly were to demand that you renounce your aspirations, you would be furious. You would fight and fuck him in every way you could think of to change his mind, but you would follow him wherever he went. As he would you. There is no such thing as choosing to leave one another’s side, unless you have reason to believe that your temporary separation shall serve to make you all the more fruitful in your shared endeavours upon your reunion.

Your shared endeavours is what they still are. What they always have been. He sees that now, clearer than ever.

Having released your fingers, his mouth claims yours in a bruising kiss. You moan into it, too loud, too desperate, but neither of you cares. He truly abandons all caution, pulling you into his lap by your waist, and you grind your clothed core into his newly hardening cock as soon as you are astride him, and damn these people, damn your ruse, he is going to have you, fully and unrestrained, right here in their midst. It matters not, for most will be dead soon either way. For you will take the ship for yourselves, just like you first suggested, and sail back to Middle-Earth to claim it as your own. And he means to tell you this whilst you ride him, just as you are reaching your peak, and send you careening into it with this sweetest promise like you had done him—

Something’s wrong. Even in the heat of passion he feels it, and every muscle in his body stiffens. You break away at once, alarmed by his alarm.

“Hold on to me,” is all the warning he has time to give you.

Not a soul on the ship remains asleep when it takes the first hit, water flooding into the hull through shattered wood. It’s everywhere, bursting through holes in the walls and pouring down the stairs from the deck, and you barely manage to scramble to your feet before the next blow lands, and the next. You do try to keep your grip on each other, but end up bracing yourselves against the pile of cargo on which you had been resting so you don’t get knocked off your feet. At the very least, he manages to hastily refasten his trousers. Not that anyone would care if they caught a glimpse of a man’s privates at a time like this—but in his flailing circumstances, it isn’t quite the power move it would have been if he were shamelessly buried to the hilt inside you for all to see.

“Was that—?”

“Yes,” he answers you gruffly. “Sea worm.”

“Is that a problem?” you ask urgently, ever so pragmatic even as your chest heaves through the sudden panic.

He isn’t sure. He feels recovered enough, but he can’t say whether his ability to sway the creature’s mind is good as new until he’s come face to face with it. He’s about to go and find out, when a voice screams, “Help me!”

It’s Diarmid who cried out, trapped beneath a wooden beam that had collapsed upon him. Bleeding from a head wound, he looks to Halbrand in despair. No one else even stops to look, the other passengers scurrying around in a frenzy, as if there is anywhere to run.

Halbrand and you make no move. Your gazes meet as you wait with bated breath for his choice, even in the midst of chaos.

Whatever you’ve done in your past, she has forgiven it.

If anything, you should forgive him for ever faltering in his resolve. There is no such thing as a man called Halbrand, or as you and him disappearing in the crowd. You shall be everywhere, standing above everything and everyone, as you were always meant to.

He leans over Diarmid, grabbing hold of the fallen beam atop him—only to snatch the pouch bearing a king’s symbol from his neck, the Maia’s pitiless eyes staring into the man’s terrified ones. He turns to the beautiful sight of your smile, proud and relieved, and a smirk blooms on his own lips. Screams fill the ship as it is ripped to shreds, but you put your hand in his and pull him towards the deck with an exhilarated “Come on!”, and for a moment he suspects this feeling in his chest might be akin to what a young man would experience, if he were being whisked into the unknown by a rebellious first love.

And like the folly of such youth, it doesn’t last. Your hand slips from his as the ship falls apart, swallowed whole by the ocean, and he is submerged into an underwater field of shattered woods and floating bodies. He has lost you from his sight, but he knows you’re alive. He knows he is still lord over beasts as well, when the sea worm obeys the command in his eyes and abandons its attack, swimming away. Perhaps the effort of imposing his will on such a great creature is still too taxing. Perhaps that’s why the pulse of your life is as vivid as ever within your bond, but feels further away. The water is dark, and you are strong—he feels is. You are soon to surface.

But when he emerges from the sea, grabbing hold of a floating piece of wood, you are nowhere in sight.

He waits. Waits, then dives back in.

The bodies he finds are all corpses.

You are alive.

But you are gone.

His scream is lost in the black depths of the sea.

*****

As soon as you break through the surface, gasping for air, you know something is terribly amiss.

For one, there is no one in sight. No ship, no people, no sea worm. Then, there is the rising sun, when moments ago it had been little past midnight, and land in sight when you had been most certain you were in the middle of the sea. And most poignant of all, there is distance—great and sudden, between you and your husband.

He is well, though, and even more so now that he has felt you reaching out to him. The spark of relief echoing through your bond is the only reason you do not immediately despair. You have an inkling of what might have occurred. But you save your energy for swimming towards the distant shore, channeling your ire into each kick of the water.

How do the Valar expect you to renounce your bitterness towards them, when they do their very best to fuel it with every given occasion?

*****

He breathes easy at last. He had known you were alive all along, but the gnawing emptiness where your consciousness should have been had not ceased to churn within his chest until he’d felt you, aware and present in your bond once more.

For you to have drifted away, so quickly and so far... it was no natural occurrence.

There’s a presence he’d felt. A watching. Sickly familiar, and he knows not how, but—they knew. Perhaps you had invoked them one too many times, and Ulmo himself had reached out with a watery tendril of his power to snatch you from your husband’s reach. Whether in punishment or warning, it matters not. For in his haste to part you, the Vala had failed to prevent a great opportunity from landing right into his great enemy’s lap—or rather, swimming her way onto his raft.

Galadriel.

He knows her name. How could he not? Sister of Finrod, daughter of Finarfin. A mighty Elven warrior, hailed as the fairest of Elven women, the very light of the Trees of Valinor supposedly snared in her tresses. It’s hard to tell, with her golden hair soaked and clinging to her shoulders. But her beauty concerns him little. Once he has taken Middle-Earth, he thinks, he shall have the tongue of any being who dares suggest another might be fairer than his Queen.

You’ve reached the shore, he senses, back in Middle-Earth. To Galadriel, he speaks half-truths of hateful Orcs that chased him from his homeland, but within himself, he smiles. So, they dare not kill you, still, especially after they were proven right to hesitate in doing so before—when the Orcs had robbed him of his form, his power had burst from the remains of him with such anguished fury, Forodwaith had been reduced to an icy wasteland. Should your bond be severed as violently, there is no telling what horrors that gaping wound might unleash. The Valar have revealed their fear once more, and it serves to remind him why the two of you have nothing to fear.

You were right, my love, he thinks. The message may not reach you word for word, but he knows it will be crystal clear in your mind. Though some may seek to part us, the tides of fate are flowing ever in our favour. Make for Eregion. Await me there. I shall return to you soon, having made great progress towards our end.

From you, there comes the anger and the grief of your parting, which he shares—but stronger than that is your faith in him, further solidified by his determination.

“Around your neck,” Galadriel says. “Is that the mark of your people’s king?”

She had noticed, then. He’d been careful to fiddle with it earlier, tucking it into his shirt when she thought he hadn’t seen her scrutinizing him. You had been right, of course—that pouch would prove useful, after all.

Thank you, my love, he thinks fondly to you. For reminding me who I am. Who we are.

Your devotion caresses his soul, and the Deceiver begins to worm his way into an unsuspecting mind once more.

Previous fic with same reader -> Remade

Next fic with same reader -> Reunion

[myownwholewildworld]

THE WAY TO A GREAT WIDE SOMEWHERE

↪ a the mandalorian x beauty & the beast crossover

main masterlist | read on ao3 | easter eggs pairing: beast!din djarin x f!reader. summary: cursed to spend the rest of his days in Mand'alor, Din Djarin faces a threat that may break his peace: you. -or- a retelling of the beauty and the beast story. a/n: HAHAHA *manic laugh* HI! this has been a long time coming now. first and foremost, i'll start by saying that this whole brainrot was inspired by this beautiful moodboard by the very talented @almostfoxglove, please go see it because it's the main reason i wrote this fic. i have gone crazy trying to link both worlds so i hope some of you see/understand the easter eggs. feel free to come screech at me if you like it because i have been screaming into the abyss for weeks now. love you all, take care! <3 x warnings/tags (beware spoilers): 18+, mdni. set after the events of S2. grogu is BRIEFLY mentioned. if you're a SW purist, this ain't your fic, my friend. the stockholm syndrome is stockholming. beast!din. a fair bit of smut (you know all the usual warnings). sensory deprivation. kinda dom!din. monster fucking (this is a BATB crossover after all, sorry). death of a secondary character. reader is a blank slate. alternating pov. no use of y/n. italics means it's spoken in mando'a OR it's the beast's pov 👀 THIS IS THE WAY. w/c: ~24.3k. (HAHA SORRY) divider by @saradika-graphics taglist at the end 💖

11 ABY

“Take it with you. Don’t let anyone hav―” your father choked on his last words, a chesty cough wreaking havoc in his damp, bloody lungs. “It’ll take you to where you need to go. Find it. And destroy it,” he muttered as his grey eyes, crowned by bushy, white brows, bore into yours.

In your hands you held the device that had been passed down every generation in your family. It had been commissioned by Tarre Vizsla himself over a thousand years ago when he created the Darksaber ― a Pillio star compass to find not a physical location but his most valuable possession. For almost a millennium, your family had been the guardians of it.

And for as many centuries, your Jedi ancestors had been looking for the Darksaber after they had stolen the star compass from Vizsla. That Jedi blood was far too diluted now, just a remnant of what your family once was since none of you seemed to be Force sensitive. But the mission remained despite the passing of time, not so much the reason behind it.

Since your birth, this was all you knew: the thrill of the chase. Never settling down anywhere, never creating bonds with anyone outside of your tribe. You all were wanderers ― nomads who made home of no world. You knew no other life. It was what it was.

The Jedi star compass fit perfectly on the palm of your hand ― it was circular and slightly bigger than a locket. This one though was different, special even, because it was made of beskar, a metal alloy from Mandalore.

Your fingers caressed the lid, tracing the astromeridian lines with the tips, feeling each groove. Undoing the aurodium clasp, you opened the compass to find a plasma-encased supraluminite lodestone, perfectly centred. The plasma in this specific one, however, was not of a shimmering blue, but a deep, stagnant black. Its magnetism was so strong it buzzed, emitting a low vibrating noise.

You tapped the stone with your thumb, and the vibration pierced through your flesh and bone, travelling up your forearm and dissipating into your body before it reached your chest. You quickly removed your thumb, taken aback by the intensity of it all, eyes slightly widened.

“But father, you heard them. It’s already been destroyed. It’s over,” you whispered, tears trespassing the waterline of your tired eyes.

“They lie. Never trust one of them. Those power-thirsty ra―,” he coughed, pressing the wound that stained his clothing to stop the bleeding. You covered his hand with one of yours, the other still holding the compass. “I know we were close, we had to be. Promise me you’ll keep looking.”

“I promise, father,” you hushed, repressing the sob that threatened to tear your throat.

You laced your hand with his, unbothered by the blood, as you watched his eyes become dull, opaque and dead. His lungs exhaled the last breath while the grip of his hand on yours loosened.

You remained there for a few minutes, pain and grief gnawing at you, knelt by his deathbed, tinkering with the Pillio star compass. With your mother taken from you at childbirth and now your father perishing to an enemy, you had no blood relatives left. You were alone, stripped from the comfort of family.

You still had your tribe, but your connection to them was circumstantial. You grew up in their midst, but always felt like an outsider, a misfit who people felt forced to interact with because you were “the daughter of.”

It didn’t matter anyway.

You might not have known why your family kept on looking for the Darksaber, but now you knew why you had to search for it. It was your father’s last wish and that was enough reason for you.

“We must go,” Ashton’s voice reached your ears, but not your brain.

When you didn’t respond, he slowly approached you, kneeling by your side.

“Hey, I know this is hard, but we are really running out of time,” his firm arm wrapped around your waist to help you stand up.

Your knees trembled like a newborn qartuum but managed to stay upright on the soles of your feet. Taking a deep breath, you nodded.

“We need to leave Nevarro. It’s just a matter of time until our covert is discovered. They’ll come looking for him,” your head tilted in your father’s direction, voice flat and emotionless now. Stretching your back, you put distance between you and Ashton. “You find somewhere safe in the Outer Rim to lay low for a while. I need to see this done once and for all.”

“This what, exactly? You heard the same thing I did. Gideon crushed it. It’s over. We can finally live our own lives, find a home, settle down,” he muttered, a gloved hand looking for yours yet not finding it. He sounded so hopeful.

“I know what we heard. But my father… he thinks― thought it may be a ruse. I have to try, Ash. I can’t just leave this life behind, as if everything I’ve done has meant absolutely nothing,” you replied between gritted teeth, frustrated.

“Don’t waste any more years of your life on a wild goose chase, please. Let’s go back to the others. We can―” his hand finally found yours, lacing your fingers.

You looked down at your intertwined hands. It just felt odd, out of place even. Ashton was nothing more than a brother in arms to you.

You shook your head no, pulling your hand from his, breaking the contact, and looked at him directly in the eyes.

“No, Ash. There’s no “we” here. You do what you must, and so will I, simple as,” you rejected the unspoken offer, seeing the hurt consuming his blue eyes.

“What makes you think you can do this alone? Thousands of people have tried for centuries,” he quickly tried a different tactic, but his reproach unfazed you. “Let me come with you at least.”

“No. Our people need you to lead them into this new lifestyle, Ashton,” you refused, not even giving his proposal a second thought. “And you just made it clear, this is not the life you want, but it’s the one I do. Now go.”

Ashton pressed his lips together in frustration, gobsmacked by your bluntness. He’ll be fine, he’ll recover, you thought to yourself when you saw the pain of your rejection finally dawning on him.

“Have it your way then,” and with that, he left.

The compass weighed heavy on your hand and in your heart. But you couldn’t afford distractions nor being delayed by people. Not this time.

19 ABY

Weeks turned into months. And months into years. Eight, to be exact.

The passage of time was unfaltering, but so was your determination. Despite the many dead ends, the several disappointments and the near misses, you never stopped looking for the Darksaber.

There were days, however, that it all felt like an impossible task, that you truly believed that Moff Gideon had destroyed it. You couldn’t accept it though, not when you had spent eight more years hunting it down. It still had to exist. Right?

It was hard keeping the spirits up with no company to hear you vent your frustration. You had started talking out loud to yourself, your voice bouncing off the metal walls of your spacecraft.

Some days you regretted rejecting Ashton’s offer. The man had been nothing but kind to you, loyal too. You had your suspicions about his true intentions, but you never really saw him as anything more than a friend. You hoped that after all this time, he would have found someone who reciprocated him. Ash was a good man and deserved better than what you could have offered him. What you both wanted were two completely different things, incompatible ― he wanted a quiet life, you had preferred an adventurous one.

Given the same option today, however, you were not so sure of what you would have chosen.

Toying with the star compass, you looked through the windshield of the cockpit. Jumping through hyperspace at the speed of light always put you at ease ― the flashing of light as you passed through it left a rainbow of blue hues. The static noise was so calming, you relaxed into your seat.

Your attention returned to the device on your hand. Opening it again, you eagerly watched the metal semicircle twinkle, reflecting off the colours from the Hydian Way. It had not moved for a while, so you had set the course in the direction it pointed towards.

Unsure of the way it was taking you to, you had learnt to just let it take you where it pleased. Like a bantha following its herd on the vast, arid lands of Tatooine, your life for the past eight years had been reduced to following the hands of the star compass, and nothing else. And now, like every single time before, you would wind up in the middle of the great wide somewhere. Or nowhere.

Even if your eyes hadn’t been lazily transfixed on the lodestone, you could not have missed the louder buzzing it was emitting. You rapidly sat up on your seat, your thumb hovering over the stone while your heart jolted up to your throat. As the humming increased, the black plasma inside swirled and radiated a white, shimmering glow.

Only once had you seen it do something like that before, right before finding out that the Darksaber was supposedly destroyed by Gideon. You thought yourself so close to your objective in a stroke of sheer luck, you all had rushed towards the direction it marked and found absolutely nothing.

With blood drumming in your eardrums and heartrate spiking, you faced the panel of your starfighter and touched a few buttons in a trained dance of movements. Then you pulled a lever, and a sudden jerking motion stopped the spaceship on its tracks, easing out of hyperspace.

Back flattened against the back of your padded seat, you squinted your eyes to see where you were. It took you a good moment to recognise the worlds in front of you. But that couldn’t be, made no sense at all. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at the scope in front of you.

No, you were not mistaken. That was Mandalore and one of its moons, Concordia. The compass was vibrating so loud now, you had to close the lid to contain it. Did a double take on the scope, then back out to space.

You knew the story of what had happened here fifteen years ago ― Mandalore had become uninhabitable after the Night of the Thousand Tears. The Empire had made sure of it by brute force and unfair use of fusion bombs and rays, which reportedly left the surface of the planet crystallised and its atmosphere poisoned. No one who had ventured had ever returned, or so the legend went.

The compass hummed louder, still pressed between your hands, as if compelling you to decide, and to do it now. It couldn’t be that the Darksaber had found its way back to its homeworld. It completely defied common sense, the laws of space itself.

Concordia, on the other hand, was more promising, you thought. The best choice out of the worst possible options. Safest too. Probably.

Setting course towards the moon, the spacecraft slowly trudged forward. A loud sputtering sound coming from the thrusters almost made you jump, quickly followed by the incessant beeping sound of an alarm.

“Thrusters stabilizers compromised. Negative power couplers overheating,” the robotic, monotonous voice advised you.

Then your astromech droid, a yellow trimmed R3-D3 unit, started screeching so loud through your headset, you had to remove them.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, taking complete manual control of the helm.

If the couplers didn’t cool down, you only had minutes until these completely overheated, causing an explosion.

Weighing your options, you let go of an expletive. Mandalore was closer, but you feared that the moment you entered its atmosphere, your starfighter, and you inside it, would combust to death. Concordia was further, which meant the possibility of exploding before reaching it was very high.

You were fucked either way. Both were evils, none the lesser.

“Alor (boss), something has entered the atmosphere,” Nau’ul, his protocol droid, announced in perfect Mando’a, with a metal finger pointing out the window.

Din’s brows knitted together, not that anyone could see with his helmet on. His attention drifted to the direction Nau’ul was indicating. The wrinkles between his eyes pronounced as his head tilted.

A small spaceship had breached the atmosphere of Mand’alor, appearing through the greyish clouds with a burning tail following it as it rapidly plummeted towards the surface, leaving a smoky halo behind.

With muscles tensed, Din got up from the chair and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to catch a better glimpse of the type of aircraft that dared to break his peace.

It couldn’t be the New Republic, and he hoped to hell it wasn’t an Imperial ship either. Everyone thought Mand’alor was a thing of the past, a barren planet harbouring no life.

He had thought so too before finding himself adrift in space, injured within inches of his own death. Crippled as he was, his Razor Crest survived the bumpy ride and even bumpier landing, all thanks to the droids aboard. The same droids that had managed to nurse him back to health. Or, close to, anyway.

Through the visor of his damaged helmet, Din eagerly saw the spaceship disappear between the dense foliage and slab stones, nearby the Mines. He waited and hoped to see a column of dense smoke towering above the vegetation, but that vision never materialised. There had been no crash, at least not a major one. Which meant that, whoever was commandeering the ship, had probably survived.

“Fuck. Where’s Mrs. Kri’gee?” he turned around to face Nau’ul.

The protocol droid lifted his arms above his head, running towards the door, panicking.

“Mrs. Kri’gee! Mrs. Kri’gee! Where are you? You’re urgently needed! Report immediately!” the high pitch tone of his robotic voice almost pierced his eardrum.

Din stuck a gloved fingertip in his ear canal and wiggled it to ease the pressure building up in there. Nau’ul was too dramatic and too loud for being a mere droid.

He had not even turned the corner into the main hallway of his decrepit abode, that Mrs. Kri’gee appeared in front of them. Nau’ul got the jumpscare of his life, one of his hands landing on the metal breast piece where a heart should be had he been truly human.

“Mrs. Kri’gee reporting, jatne vod (sir),” replied the IG-series assassin droid, one of her hands flying to her temple to salute him. “How can I be of service?”

“We seem to have visitors. Follow me, gedet’ye (please),” and with no further ado, Din walked almost blindly through the maze of corridors, then down the lift, until the cold breeze greeted him.

The temperature outside was almost freezing, especially in winter. This winter was chillier than usual too, so Din and his droids only came out when it was strictly necessary. Even after all this time, it still surprised him how glacial it was out there. With not even a tiny patch of skin uncovered, Din could still feel the biting cold clinging onto his beskar armour, seeping in through the smallest nook it could find. It could clutch around the bones easily, freezing you in place in a matter of minutes.

Not that he could tell the difference anyway, considering how fucking cold he felt under his skin. How icy it was inside of him, a never-ending snowstorm waging war on his numb heart.

Perhaps he shouldn’t hurry ― if he slowed down enough, and with a bit of luck, the unwanted guests might perish to the unforgiving cold of wintery Mand’alor.

With Mrs. Kri’gee on his heels, Din moved through the terrain as if he was one with it. After many years, he knew the topography as if it was the palm of his hand. Where he could step and where he couldn’t. What paths to avoid at specific times, and which ones were safe to hike, always mindful of the creatures who had withstood the Great Purge.

He might not have many things, but free time was definitely one of them, which allowed him to explore this world he had called home for the last eight years. There weren’t many pastimes in Mand’alor when he was the only human inhabiting it. Maybe that was why he had renamed the droids with more human-like names, to feel less lonely ― only if he could truly feel something.

The emptiness within him had only grown with every passing year on the planet. The curse that ran through his veins had slowly overtaken him, leaving an ever-growing void in his chest. Din could not remember the last time he felt anything ― joy, contempt, happiness, anger, hope, despair. Nothing.

He was an empty carcass, a non-sentient monster merely existing. Sometimes he wondered what the point of it all was, not because of an emotional response but because of pure boredom. But then his eyes would fall on the source of his misfortune, a brutal reminder of how he came to be where he stood, and the lingering questions would vanish. This was the way, his way.

And if that wasn’t enough, he also had to deal with the other side of the coin.

Din trudged along the faded path, now overridden by vegetation, to the Mines. His magnetised boots helped him find his footing more than once, sharp and loose rocks making it difficult to remain vertical. Mrs. Kri’gee, on the other hand, had no issues whatsoever.

Fifteen minutes later, they reached their destination near the Mines, close to a cliff. The lush bushes and thick trees blocked the sight at first, but Din found the perfect spot to stalk the unwelcomed visitors. Down on his knees and through a gap between the leaves, he made out the shape of a T-65B X-wing starfighter ― a pretty old one, at least twenty years old. It could have well served during the Galactic Civil War.

The starfighter could only carry the pilot and an astromech droid, which meant he only had to deal with one sentient being. Could have been worse, Din thought. The prospect of being found didn’t sit well with him though, unsure of why this person had found themselves stranded in Mand’alor, out of all the fucking planets in the Outer Rim.

The Mandalorian tilted his head, trying to get a better look at the person on the other side of the ship ― they were sat on a flat rock with their back towards him, knees propped up, elbows placed on them and crouched forwards. Din stuck his head out just enough to look over their shoulder, good eye squinting ― there was an astromech droid lying in front of them. By the looks of it, it had been fried to death, still sparkling and smoking a little.

Mrs. Kri’gee laid low behind him, still but ready to accept a command. Din waved a couple of signs to the IG-series assassin droid, and it moved silently, gracefully as a loth-cat, to reposition itself northwards, facing the target.

The Mandalorian kept his fist closed, indicating Mrs. Kri’gee to wait, when he saw the person standing up, removing their helmet and taking in a deep, exaggerated breath. It was the side profile of a woman in a bright orange spacesuit, human as far as he could tell. Din’s eyebrows furrowed under the visor, confused as to what could possibly have guided her to this inhospitable planet.

Perhaps he had been alone for too long, only the droids keeping him company for almost a decade, but the sight of you unsettled him. Had he been able to feel something, he was sure an uncomfortable weight would have grounded his stomach.

Kaysh cuyi mesh’la (she is beautiful), he thought ― a simple, objective observation a man could make with only half a vision.

Your hair shined even when the sky was gloomy; your big, bright eyes sparked with frustration; your plump lips fell into a flat line before smacking them with disapproval at your wasted andromech droid. Your fingers curled into your hips while one of your feet tapped the crystallised ground underneath nervously.

“Well, I’m not dead yet, so I guess the air is breathable,” you talked to yourself out loud, sounding almost disappointed. “Stinks like a swamp though, ugh.”

That was a good observation from your part. Stupid, but good. What was your plan if it wasn’t? Suffocating to death? Bit reckless if you asked him. And yes, the sulfuric smell coming off a bog nearby was not great, but there were worse places in Mand’alor to find yourself in. He knew damn well.

He eyed you for a little longer, Mrs. Kri’gee lying in wait. He didn’t need to kill you yet, first he needed to find out why you were here and if you were part of a larger group ― if there was a remote possibility of someone looking for you, he had to know.

Din signalled to Mrs. Kri’gee to come out of hiding but to not attack yet. And so she did promptly. The droid walked out in front of you, startling you so bad you almost fell backwards.

“Identify yourself,” his droid asked you.

You snorted, hand slowly moving backwards towards the blaster pistol in your holster.

“You identify yourself, you little piece of― metal,” you bit your tongue back.

“Nicknamed Mrs. Kri’gee by my Alor. IG-11 assassin droid. Serial Number 730X21G. Manufactured by Holowan Mechanicals in 1 ABY. First assigned to―”

“Alright, alright. Whatever,” you scoffed, fingers curling around the grip of your gun. “What is a droid like you doing here anyway?”

While you were distracted chatting to Mrs. Kri’gee, Din had come out of his hiding place, heavy boulder on hand. Stealthy as a predator, he raised his arm above your head and smashed the rock against your skull with no hesitation at all.

You plummeted to the ground instantly, rendered unconscious in a split second. Towering above you, Din walked around your body and crouched down in front of you. His gloved fingers moved a few strands of silky hair out of the way, following the tiny stream of blood dripping down your temple. The wound wasn’t too bad ― he was sure you’d survive the blow.

“Pick her up,” he commanded the droid, who willingly complied.

In a matter of seconds, Mrs. Kri’gee was carrying you over the shoulder, as if you were a light sack full of gloomroots.

What a banging headache. You were barely able to string two thoughts together.

Eyelids heavy, you did your best to open your eyes. It took you a couple of attempts, but you finally got there. Vision still burry, your pupils widened to adapt to the darkness surrounding you.

The room you were in was all rough, square edges. It reminded you od the inside of a spacecraft with all those panels on the walls. Here though, the cables were hanging out of the electrical panels, snapped and peeled. The scarce futuristic, metal furniture dotted around was broken and upside down everywhere ― the whole space was derelict, abandoned.

It has to be, because this is Mandalore, you suddenly remembered where you were before you lost consciousness. And how did you faint, anyway? How did you get here? Was it the freaking droid?

With a pitiful groan, you tried to reach the back of your head, where the pain was radiating from. To your dismay, your hand didn’t budge one inch. Confused, you looked down and around you, only to find a sturdy syntherope tethering you to the chair you were sitting on.

“What the varp!” You exclaimed, fighting the fetters to no avail.

You rubbed your hands together in the hopes to loosen the grip and slide one hand out, but whoever bound you, had tightened the rope really well. Did that stop you though? No, not one bit. You tried and tried and tried until the skin on your wrists was raw.

You were in the middle of attempting to break free when the creaking noise of the door made you still in place, half hoping to see the assassin droid.

Instead, a Mandalorian walked into the room, and you immediately ceased your endeavours. With a droid you could deal, but with a sentient being… and even worse, a Mandalorian out of all the fucking possibilities.

By the shape of his armour and predatory gait, you could tell he was a man, around five feet twelve. He wore a black body stocking covered by different metal pieces ― vambraces, shoulder pauldrons, breastplate, thigh and shin guards, and kneepads were all made of unaltered beskar. The shiny patina indicated that the alloy had been polished but not painted, as most Mandalorians would have them.

But what struck you as odd was his helmet. Manufactured with the same polished beskar, a black visor protecting his eyesight, you noticed the big crack that ran diagonally from the bottom left, all the way to his right temple. The transparisteel of the visor had also been damaged. It all had been welded back together, albeit by a novice hand.

You stiffened your back as he approached without exchanging one word. Your gaze followed his every movement, wary of the man in front of you. Your tribe instilled on all its members a gut-churning hatred for Mandalorians, although such strong feeling never really deepened within you.

Always mouthing your curiosity, your constant questions as a child were never well received by your tutors. Even your father had a hard time convincing you to hate someone irrationally. It just wasn’t in your nature to hate for the sake of it.

However, the Mandalorian in front of you… well, that was a slightly different story. The bastard had kidnapped you and had the guts to stop in front of you, arms folded, and head tilted. As if you just happened to be there, disturbing his peace.

“Release me now,” you demanded, narrowing your eyes as you leaned forward on your chair. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

A stony silence ensued, leaving you wondering if he was mute.

“Why are you here?” His voice was distorted by the speech scrambler integrated in his helmet.

Repressing a taunting jeer, you stared him right in his eyes ― where you assumed they were, anyway. When he didn’t respond, your eyebrows scowled.

“Are you, like, for real, man?” You couldn’t hide your incredulity. “It’s obvious I don’t want to be here. I didn’t mean to land on this forsaken planet. For all I knew I was about to die, I thought it was uninhabitable! I actually meant to go to Condordia―”

“Why would you go to Concordia? You’re not Mandalorian. Obviously,” he interrupted you, his hand waving up and down in front of you almost scornfully, pointing out your plain clothing.

“I― Well, that’s none of your business, actually. Look― Sorry, what’s your name? I didn’t catch it before you kidnapped me,” you asked with a pinch of rancour tarnishing your voice.

“I haven’t kidnapped you,” he quickly replied defensively. “Just Mando.”

“Okay, Just Mando. Look, you let me go and we both can pretend none of this ever happened. I go on my merry way and you― well, you stay here, doing whatever it is you do,” coming to think of it, you also had questions. You cocked your head, “What are you doing here anyway? When did Mandalore’s atmosphere become breathable again? I thought the planet was completely ruined after the Great Purge.”

“For considering yourself a hostage, you sure ask too many questions. And it’s none of your business, actually,” he snapped back throwing your own words at you with a snarky edge to his voice. “You and the whole universe think Mand’alor is unliveable, and it will remain like that for as long as I live, at least,” his tone turned sombre. “You ain’t going anywhere, I’m afraid.”

His last words shocked you. What did he mean you were not going anywhere? Of course you were. You couldn’t stay here; you had a mission to complete. And Just Mando didn’t seem to be the best company either, the man was so dispassionate you were sure he had a pole up his ass.

“Wait, wait, hold on one varping second. Let’s not rush into making stupid decisions, shall we? I get it, you want to be left alone for all eternity, don’t want anyone to disturb you. I won’t tell a soul you’re here, I give you my word,” you stumbled over your words, panicking at the perspective of not leaving this planet. “Please, I can’t― There are people looking for me,” you lied.

You had not been in touch with your tribe for weeks now. And by tribe, you meant Ash. He was the only one you had been communicating with over the last eight years. Life had been hectic, and you were never the best at keeping in touch.

“Then I’ll kill them if they come looking,” he shrugged, matter-of-factly.

“Wow, okay. Calm down. No need to threaten my people,” you tried to diffuse the situation, although Just Mando seemed pretty calm.

“And just so you know, I’ve just come back from where you landed. I’ve destroyed your engine and the navigation console, so you ain’t going nowhere,” he unfolded his arms, lacing his gloved fingers on his back, quite the measured gesture.

You glanced up at him incredulous, mouth agape while your lungs emptied. You were stranded here, forever, with him. The magnitude of his words had still not dawned on you, when a faster thought made its way through to the surface.

The star compass. Had he found it? Had he destroyed it too? Not that it would be useful here, but it was the last memento you had of your late father. Not that you could ask, anyway.

“Why… why would you do that?” Your trembling voice almost gave way to desperation as you leaned back against the chair.

You blinked fast to tame your feelings, all bravado leaving your body soft and boneless. For once you were speechless, your eyes searching for his under the damaged visor. But you only saw your reflection on the transparisteel, his pose not budging at all.

“Please, Mando. Tell me you’re lying. Tell me my X-wing was not the only way out of this forlorn planet?” You begged, a dense knot forming in your throat, collapsing your airway.

“It is. It was,” he corrected himself. “I can’t let you leave. I don’t trust you nor your word. This way, I make sure you have no other option than staying here for as long as you live. Death is the only way out of here.”

You deflated on the chair, looking at him in disbelief, almost unable to breathe. Although his voice was warped by the modulator, there was no emotion in it. He spoke as if talking about the damn weather, not like he had just clipped your wings forever ― literally.

“I― What… Why are you behaving like a fucking monster? Don’t you have feelings?” There was no edge to your question, you were past subtleties now.

He shrugged again, unbothered.

“‘Cause I am. And I don’t,” was his cryptic answer before turning on his heels and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The door slammed behind him a bit too forcefully for his liking ― a reminder that he would need to ask Ca’nara to grease the hinges. Din then put the latch down to ensure the door could not be opened from the inside.

Without another thought in his mind, he turned around and almost crashed into Nau’ul.

“Master?” asked the protocol droid, dubious, one finger lifted in the air to draw his attention.

“What?” he replied, exasperated. Din just wanted a moment alone ― that conversation had burnt the last energy he had reserved for socialising. If it wasn’t because he could harbour no feelings, one could say he was socially drained already.

“Since the girl is going to be with us for quite some time, I was thinking that you might want to offer her a more comfortable room…” Nau’ul suggested.

The damn droid was more human than he was. Din had not even thought about moving you a different place within his derelict fortress. He had made the once royal prison his home, suspended off the ceiling of Sundari’s bio-dome, or what remained of it. A suitable place for a worthy character like him.

Din just stared at him, weighing his words. Did he have to care about the needs of his captive? She’s not my captive, just a… lifelong visitor, he quickly corrected himself.

“Then again, maybe not,” Nau’ul quickly retracted, dropping his hand to one side, mistaking his silence.

Fuck, I should have thought that, not the droid, he almost reprimanded himself. After so many years in his self-imposed exile, Din had really lost all touch with his humanity. Solitude, along with the curse that plagued his veins, were to blame.

With a grunt, he turned on his heels, unbolted the door and walked right back in, coming to a halt behind you with just a few strides.

“What are you doing?” you asked in a small voice, sniffling.

You had been crying and were now trying to hide it, show him you were unbreakable. He should have felt like a dick but didn’t. Couldn’t, really.

He knelt behind you and removed his vibro-knife from one of his pockets. The blade hummed, vibrating, when it got activated and Din cut you loose, restoring the blood flow to your hands.

“I’ll show you to your room,” was his only explanation to your question.

“My room? But I thought…” the doubt in your words slightly angered him. A fleeting feeling.

Anger? That’s new, he thought, eyebrows momentarily furrowing under the helmet.

“You wanna― you wanna stay here?” he muttered, teeth almost gritting.

“No,” you hushed, wide eyes looking up at him when he walked around the chair to face you.

Unsettling.

“Then follow me.”

Turning on his heels, Din made his way to the door, hoping you would follow. And you did, possibly because you had nowhere else to go.

The royal prison was a cross-shaped structure with several floors. Most of it was completely abandoned, except for the last two levels where he had accommodated himself in this senseless life he lived. The height gave him vantage point, with a good view of the surrounding buildings and further afield.

If it was for him, he would live between wreckage and filth, but his droids had made it their purpose to make the prison somewhat liveable. Not that he cared.

Din looked over his shoulder for one second to see you rub your wrists, eyes focused on the floor. Red lines were imprinted on your skin and for a brief second, he wondered if he had secured the syntherope a bit too tight.

Oh well.

He walked you all the way through a maze of corridors until you reached an elevator which was already waiting to take you up. Din stepped in and then to a side ― it wasn’t too big, but there was enough room for the both of you without having to invade each other’s personal space. You reluctantly followed.

The minutes dragged; the silence heavy although he did not find it unbearable. By the way you fidgeted with your fingers, he knew you did. Despite your discomfort, Mando did not open his mouth ― better getting used to it now, he didn’t want you to think he was the talkative type.

Then a ding announced your arrival to the top floor, and you almost let go of a relieved sigh. Din glanced at you sideways but didn’t catch much of your expression ― you were on his righthand side, and his right eye was completely blind.

The floor was well illuminated, clean and free of debris. It was well looked after, pristine almost. The corridors were empty, giving the whole place a very diaphanous appearance. As you walked by his side, he pointed out a few rooms you might want to make use of.

Arriving at an intersection, Din took the east corridor, ignoring the opposite one deliberately.

“What’s on that corridor?” you asked curiously.

You were too damn perceptive. Too perceptive for your own good.

“The west wing is forbidden,” he grunted abruptly, a growl even, stopping in his tracks to face you. “Forbidden,” he repeated slowly so the words, and the threat in his modulated voice, would sink in.

His reaction took you aback, but he could see you subduing your fear. You would not let him see it ― how scared you really were. You might not want to show it, but he could sense it.

The thought of you sniffing around the west corridor should make him panic, but his reaction was a mechanical one ― once upon a time, he would have cared excessively, worryingly even, if you discovered what he was hiding. Now, however, it wasn’t that he didn’t care but couldn’t.

The reason behind it, the reason why his emotions had become sterile and why a beast lurked beneath his skin, was stashed away in the west wing.

And it was his life mission to prevent anyone from finding it.

When Just Mando opened the door to your new cell, you were pleasantly surprised to discover it was an actual bedroom. The walls were still polished stainless steel slabs, so it wasn’t the coziest place ever, but it had a double bed with fresh linen, a nightstand, a wardrobe, a chest and one single chair. Everything was immaculate white, not one speck of dust in sight. There was another door that you assumed would lead to an ensuite bathroom.

You entered the small room and walked towards the bed. Opened the drawers of the furniture not really hoping for anything, so your eyebrows furrowed when you discovered they were packed full with clothes. Weird, but good.

With a little jump you sat down on the bed, testing its springs and overall comfortability. It was strikingly soft and smooth like a cloud, beckoning you to lie flat on your back and drift away to your dreams. You were not expecting that ― seeing how the rest of this floor was decorated (it wasn’t), you thought there would be one single spartan bed which would be hard as ironstone.

You were even amazed to see a floor-to-ceiling window. An actual, big, massive window that faced the outside world. And there were no metal bars covering it. Incredible, really, that he would trust you with one. Not that you were planning to escape, considering how desolate the planet was ― where could you go? Nowhere.

Looking up, you saw Just Mando leaning against the doorframe, arms folded while his biceps flexed against the fabric of his body stocking. He had been watching you the whole time you were inspecting the room.

Suddenly you felt the weight of his eyes on you and that made you feel skittish. You couldn’t see them, but you knew his sight would be intense, drilling and thrilling. What did he look like under that helmet? Would his expression be as impassible as his tone? Did he really not care at all or was that a façade he could afford because you couldn’t dissect his face?

“So… can I come out of my room? Or are you going to lock it too?” you asked tentatively, hands laced on your lap, challenging him with the soft curve of your raised eyebrow.

“It’ll stay locked until I know you can be trusted with freedom,” he straightened his back, hand on the doorknob.

“You call this freedom? Wow, okay,” you paused, letting that spoken thought sink in. “Is it because I asked about that corridor?”

Just Mando stilled under the doorframe, head cocked. Unknowingly, you bit your bottom lip, your teeth massaging the plump pillow underneath.

He didn’t answer.

You had had enough years of silence, the quietness of your cockpit being your only companion. Only broken by the fleeting moments when you met civilisation, you had unintentionally craved that connection. You just hadn’t realised it until you were faced with the possibility of being accompanied by someone for the rest of your life.

Even if that someone was… well, him. Guessed you would have to make do.

“You’ve already condemned me to live here with you, Just Mando, for-fucking-ever. You’ve destroyed my ship, so it’s not like I can go anywhere, can I?” you pleaded with him. “This whole planet is already my personal jail, don’t make it even smaller or I’ll go crazy.”

In your begging, you had gotten up and cut the distance between you. The tips of your shoes bumped into his weathered, leathered boots. He didn’t move, not even one inch ― completely unbothered by your proximity. Your face was so close to his helmet, the steam of your breath almost fogged up the transparisteel of the visor.

And, for a second, he seemed to consider your petition. Or so you had liked to think. You measured each other up, no one giving in or up.

“Until you can be trusted,” Just Mando remarked. The Mandalorian was the first to finally retreat, taking a step back into the hallway. “It’s up to you how long that takes.”

Flabbergasted, you looked at him in disbelief.

And then he shut the door. The click of the lock quickly followed.

Hours had gone by until you heard the door unbolt.

A different droid, an astromech one, greeted you.

“Beep boop, beep!” it happily chirped.

Luckily you knew enough Binary to unsderstand that it said, “dinner is served”.

“I don’t get it. I’ve already had dinner. Don’t need to be here,” Din complained, arms crossed at chest level, manspreading on a chair in the dining room.

“Try to be understanding, sir. The girl has lost her freedom,” Mrs. Kri’gee almost reprimanded him.

“Least you could do is keep her some company, Alor,” Nau’ul chipped in.

Din scoffed, irritated. And such irritation surprised him. He shouldn’t feel anything but a void in his entrails.

Nau’ul picked up on his unusual display of feelings as quick as he did.

“Master… Have you thought that perhaps this girl could help you break the spell?” the protocol droid ventured, almost stammering towards the end when Din snapped his head back to look at him.

If looks could kill, Nau’ul would have dropped dead.

“Fucking nonsense. You heard the witch, the spell she cast,” Din muttered, jaw so clenched it almost hurt him. “Stop looking for solutions and just accept it. After eight years, you should have already giving up your futile hopes.”

“Someone has to keep the spirits up around here. Depressing enough as it is,” the droid retorted.

“If you allow me, Master, Elsbeth’s exact words were, ‘until you find your maker once more’, and that is up to interpretation,” Mrs. Kri’gee added.

Din remembered very well the cursed that Morgan had spitted in his face before he took possession of the Darksaber and sunk it in the witch’s belly.

I condemn you, Din Djarin, to an eternity of loss, Of emptiness, apathy and thorns. At full moons you will be at your worst, With nobody to keep you warm. You shall walk this Galaxy alone, Until you meet your Maker once more.

They still resonated inside his head, clear as the pale ale in the jug in front of him.

“It dims more and more every day, Alor. The Darksaber is losing its glow. You’ve been ignoring it for years, but I fear that if you do nothing about it, well…” Nau’ul voiced his worries, hands twisting ― a very human-like gesticulation.

Mando had spaced out, not listening to one word. He only snapped out of his trance when the door creaked, announcing Ca’nara’s and your arrival.

The bags under your eyes were screaming for some rest, which apparently had been evading you. He had given you enough hours alone to get some sleep and freshen up, so why hadn’t you? If you looked so miserable, that was entirely down to you, not him. Of that much he was sure.

Din straightened his back, sitting up properly, while Nau’ul rushed off his feet to serve you the food the droid had prepared. With a flourish of his hand, he presented you with his creation.

“It’s tiingilar, a Mandalorian stew of meat, vegetables and spices. It’s hot, very hot, be careful,” the protocol droid warned you.

From across the table, Din could have sworn he saw your eyes watering, then you blinked a few times, grabbing the spoon.

“Oh my stars, how many spices have you put in here?”

“Oh, you don’t like spicy food?”

“Well, I do, but it smells so spicy, I’m about to cry, phew!” you swept along your waterlines with your index fingers, making a point.

“Alor prefers it this way. I can prepare something else…”

“No, no. It’s fine. I’ll eat it. Thank you…?” You dragged your words, looking for a name.

“Nau’ul,” he replied. “Anything you need, please ask.”

And then all three droids disappeared from sight, leaving you both alone in the dining room.

You glanced up from your plate, eyeing him above your spoon while you blew on it to cool it down.

“Are you not eating, Just Mando?” you raised an eyebrow, inquiring.

If Nau’ul was still in the room, Din would have snarled at him. Instead, he folded arms again and shook his head no.

“I’ve already eaten,” he explained dully.

He couldn’t―wouldn’t―remove his helmet in your presence, or anyone’s. Not even his droids had seen his face in all the years they had been together. Din had been raised to follow the Mandalorian Creed and even though he was no longer part of the Bounty Hunters’ Guild, he still believed. It was intrinsic to him, to who he was. Or had been. The only thing that kept him true to himself.

“Because you can’t remove your helmet in front of me. Right?”

Din tilted his head in surprise. He did not expect you to know that. Were you acquainted with the Mandalorian culture? And if so, why? You were not one, he could tell. But what were you? Your accent was a mixture of different ones, so he could not pinpoint where you originated from.

“This is the Way,” he found himself saying. It had been a long time since those words last escaped his mouth. “Where are you from?”

“Oh, from here and there, everywhere and nowhere…” Then you took the first spoonful of the stew and started coughing almost instantly. “Fuck, this is spicy,” you whispered, tears in your eyes, as your hand lunged forward to eagerly down the drink.

Din almost smiled at your severe reaction. The corners of his lips began to curl up but quickly dissipated, his own body fighting against such act of rebellion.

“So you’re a nomad?” He asked with certain curiosity in his voice, while he leaned forward to pass you the jug full of ale to top up your drink.

“Yes. I don’t have a homeworld. I don’t even know where I was born, we moved around so much my father didn’t even remember,” you went on almost absentmindedly, pouring the beer in your glass. “What about you, Just Mando?”

“Why do you keep calling me ‘Just Mando’? It’s just Mando,” as soon as he said it out loud, he understood the joke. He pressed his lips together, slightly amused. “I see,” he mumbled.

You laughed as if it was the best joke ever. The warmth in your laughter was vivid, hearty, compelling. Like a melody it filled the air ― suddenly the room was not as bare as before. As cold either.

“So? Were you born here in Mandalore, Mando?” the smirk coiling your lips told him you were teasing him.

Din debated whether to open up or not. Whether to tell you the truth or a lie. But Nau’ul was right, if you were to spend the rest of your lives together, lying was not a good start.

“I was born in Aq Vetina, but was raised in Concordia,” was his succinct answer.

Your eyes unsuccessfully searched for his under the visor. Din could tell you wanted to press him, get more information out of him, but that was as much as he was willing to share today.

“Eat up. It’s going to get cold,” he urged you, wanting to leave so he could be alone.

“So bossy,” you whispered to yourself, rolling your eyes to the back of your head, before attacking the tiingilar.

Nine weeks later

You turned to the next page of the book on your lap, your mind completely captivated by the story of the pages in front of you. Books were scarce in this day and age, but Mando had managed to salvage a few after years of rummaging through the rubble. This one in particular was a storybook for children ― a story about a Mandalorian fighting the Mythosaur down in the Mines.

You were immersed in it, curled up in your bed with a thick duvet and a few pillows around you. Your room was not bare anymore ― you had decorated with a few trinkets you had found in your day trips to the outside world, with Mando as your guide. The fear of the first week had slowly eased, giving way to a new sense of comfort.

Forgotten was your thirst for freedom. With the passage of time, you learnt that Mando was not joking when he first said death was the only way out. And since you didn’t want to die, you slowly had embraced this new way of life. You had made friends with the three droids and had really tried to form sort of friendship with Mando.

The Mandalorian was a tough nut to crack. He was not keen on showing emotion, so much so you even wondered if he was capable of feeling anything. You had noticed that, many a times, he relied on Nau’ul to show him how he should act or react. A droid teaching a human how to be human ― unfathomable. Perhaps all these years alone in Mandalore had taken its toll on him.

And so you liked to think that you were somewhat helping him reconnect with that side of him you thought long gone. By ‘helped’, maybe you meant ‘forced’, but Mando had thrown you in this situation, so now he had to put up with you.

The door to your room opened suddenly, startling you so bad you almost threw the book at Mando.

“One of these days you’re gonna give me a heart attack. Don’t you know how to knock?” You screeched, hugging the storybook to your chest and burying yourself under the duvet ― you were only wearing a shirt and your underwear.

“Are you not ready yet?” you had grown used to the exasperation in his voice.

“Ready for what? It’s only half seven in the morning, Mando!”

“You wanted to visit the Living Waters in the Mines and see for yourself if it really is a Mythosaur’s lair, remember? Since you don’t believe a damn word of what I say,” he scowled, still under the doorframe.

“Oh, shit! You’re right!”

How could you have forgotten? You had been insisting for over two weeks now, and only yesterday did he capitulate. You were no Mandalorian, so shouldn’t be in such a sacred place, but you managed to convince him that it would do literally no harm to anyone if you visited.

In your excitement, you jumped out of bed, forgetting you were half naked, and looked for some clothes to put on.

“I’ll… I’ll be waiting in the parlour,” he muttered and disappeared into the hallway.

Ten minutes later, you were outside, on your way to the Civic Center. As you approached this new-to-you, unprobed area, the destruction around you made your stomach churn. The Great Purge and then years of neglect painted a gruesome picture in front of you. Inside was even worse, although you couldn’t see much considering how dark it was.

You followed Mando diligently ― he had been here before, so you trusted his instinct. You stepped where he did and remained silent while you descended into the ground.

After a few more minutes, a humid, warm cave appeared in sight. There were massive pillars holding the crumbling ceiling, and piles of debris everywhere. Stairs led a path to the Living Waters below.

“This is beautiful,” you mumbled in awe, looking around you.

The place was eerie and silent as a tomb. Seeing it with your own eyes, now you could understand why people would believe in the existence of a mythological creature.

There was a plaque on a stone nearby and you got closer to read it. However, the writing was in Mando’a, so you cocked your head to look at Mando.

“What does it say?”

He walked towards you and stopped right behind you. His proximity sent a warning shiver down your spine. You ignored your body’s reaction, focusing on the words you didn’t understand.

“These Mines date back to the Age of the First Mand’Alor. According to ancient folklore, the Mines were once a Mythosaur lair. Mandalore the Great is said to have tamed the mythical beast. It is from these legends that the skull signet was adopted and became the symbol of our planet,” he relayed, his voice ricocheting between the bare walls.

“And you are sure you’ve seen it? Mandalore the Great lived, what, hundreds of years ago? In all that time, you’re telling me, you’ve been the only man to witness the rise of the beast?” One perfect eyebrow raised into your forehead, a smirk curling up your lips, as you taunted him.

Although you couldn’t see, you liked to imagine the frustration distorting his features. Lately you had wondered who the man under the helmet was, but you knew you would never find out. Mando took the Creed very seriously, too seriously.

“I did,” he replied concisely. “I don’t care if you don’t believe me.”

“And what were you doing in the water anyway? It does not look very inviting.”

“I had to redeem myself,” you could tell he hadn’t mean to tell you that, because he nervously adjusted his posture.

“Why?”

You were like a loth-wolf with a bone ― you wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“I had broken the Creed and had to atone for it,” his voice lowered, uncomfortable with the topic.

“How did you break it?”

“Will you ever stop asking so many damn questions?” he growled, evading your probing.

You lifted your hands up in the air in a peaceful gesture, but not without a subtle grin on your mouth. You loved driving him crazy, it was one of the little fun you could have in this place.

“Alright, alright.”

You bent down to grab some flat stones off the ground and practiced your stone skipping skills. That was until Mando’s big hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping you mid-throw.

“Stop that, you’re going to awaken the beast,” he snarled, pushing you close to his chest a bit too forcefully.

“Oh, come on. Gimme a break, Mando. There’s no Mythosaur, you must have imagined it.”

“There is and I didn’t,” his grip loosened, and you took the opportunity to throw another stone. “Fucking quit that attitude now,” he warned you, grabbing you by both of your wrists, your hands flush against the beskar breastplate.

Your pelvis was sweetly pressed against his, your thighs touching his. Even with the beskar pieces, you could feel all his edges, his― Shit. His manhood resting just above where slick heat was gathering in your core.

You laughed to release your own tension ― your head snapping back, exposing your neck to his eyes.

“Oh, wow. You’re serious,” you managed to say between laughs, ignoring how close you were to him. Ignoring how wet your pussy was.

“Of course I am. You don’t unders―”

The sound of water abruptly moving forced both of you to look in the direction of the pond. Something enormous had risen, taking up the whole airspace, and water cascaded down its sides.

You froze in place, your mind rushing to come to terms with what you were seeing, as you looked at the gigantic figure towering above you. The water kept falling, so you couldn’t really make the shape of the monster underneath. But in that moment, you knew Mando had not imagined jack shit. The Mythosaur was real. Very real.

Mando pushed you back and put himself between you and the imminent danger. Above his shoulder, you saw horns sticking out and a big pair of eyes staring you down. Its skin was covered in scales and small horns, giving it a very reptilian appearance. The Mythosaur was massive beyond comprehension, and you could not, for the life of you, visualise it being tamed or, worse, ridden.

Time stilled and so did the beast. Its eyes were transfixed on you ― no, on Mando. As if they were measuring each other up, as if they were communicating somehow. Since that was impossible, it was obvious you were imagining things.

Before any of you could react, your heart pounding manically and your breath hitching, the beast went back down below the water level, and a massive wave dashed towards you. Within a matter of seconds, the Mythosaur was gone, and you and Mando were soaked to the bones.

Mando reacted before you did, turning around and forcing you to walk back.

“Let’s go, now! Move!”

In the safety of your bed, after a hot, steamy shower, you let your mind drift back to the moment in time where Mando had held you close to his chest earlier that day. How your body had unwillingly behaved to his closeness, how you ached for him to reach below your hips, right between your thighs…

With a soft moan, you gave in to the desire that had been pooling low in your belly for a while now. Your fingers dipped under your underwear, finding that sweet bundle of nerves in your wet slit. Your index tapped at your clit a few times until you stroked it ― electricity shooting up your spine.

That felt so good, you did it again and again and again, while your brain came up with different scenarios where Mando was giving you hell. With half-lidded eyes and lips parted, you smothered the beating nub with your thumb, two other fingers finding the entrance to your pussy and submerging in your wet heat.

You picked up a relentless pace, imagining they were Mando’s thick fingers, as the first orgasm in a long while started to build up inside you. Your own hand made you whimper, teeth sinking in your bottom lip so hard you almost drew blood. Your back arched involuntarily, stroking your pulsing clit more harshly now, your fingers reaching further in.

The squealing noise of the door opening alarmed you, your orgasm evaporating into thin air. You just about managed to remove your tantalising hand from your panties and throw the duvet above you. Panicking, you looked at the door.

Mando was under the frame, so still you thought he was a statue. You had tried to conceal what you were doing, but the rigidity of his posture told you he had seen enough.

Your cheeks reddened, your face on fire at the realisation of being caught masturbating. By none other than the protagonist of your wet dreams.

“Mando! I told you to fucking KNOCK!” You screamed at him from under the quilt. “You can’t just walk in like that!”

When you didn’t hear the door close ―because you were not expecting an apology from him―, you peeked above the duvet.

The Mandalorian had not moved one inch, and you really feared he had become immobile forever. But the tent on his groin showing through his body stocking told you otherwise.

And then he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. It was the first time he had trespassed the doorframe, you noticed. Butterflies filled your stomach and your lungs as he approached the bed you were lying on, your widened eyes looking for his unsuccessfully ― always unsuccessfully.

Mando didn’t say one word as he removed his gloves, coming to a halt by your side with his shins pressing against the bedframe. When they dropped to the floor, your eyes drifted right up at him, searching for clues, anything that could be crossing his mind.

His naked fingers were the first time you saw his skin, a bit of him. He was real, and he was right in front of you, caressing your cheek. You found yourself closing your eyes and leaning on the palm of his hand ― a tender gesture amidst your unresolved sexual desire.

Mando tilted his head, and you understood. An unspoken petition that you willingly granted. Driven by your lust, you scooted over to the other side of the bed, making room for him, dragging the duvet with you.

“Nuh-uh,” he clicked his tongue as he knelt on the mattress after having kicked his boots.

He yanked the duvet off you, exposing you to him with just your shirt and underwear.

You leaned back against the mountain of pillows and looked at him doe-eyed ― then your sight followed his right hand as it landed on your pubic bone. You pressed your lips into a fine line, swallowing a moan at his touch. His fingertips traced your wet slit over your panties.

“What were you doing, hm?” he husked, his long finger dragging against the garment.

“I, uh… well…” you stammered, unable to look for the words.

“Were you touching yourself?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded.

“Were you close?” a sliver of care transpired through his modulated voice.

“Yes,” you cooed.

“Sorry, mesh’la (beautiful). Let me help you with that,” he offered at the same time his fingers dunked under the waistband of your panties.

You melted into the mattress, audibly moaning, when he stroked you. Your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure his fingers were expertly working on you, sliding through your slit a few times, from your thudding clit to your dripping hole ― your clit hitching between his fingers every time he traced them back up.

He worked your flesh with his bare digits, and after a few minutes, his index and middle fingers went back down to your hot entrance. He tempted you with the tips but didn’t go in ― you were tiptoeing on the precipice of your pleasure.

You whimpered, annoyed.

“Please, Mando―”

“Din. Call me Din, mesh’la,” he hummed, the tip of his finger circling your entrance.

“Please, Din,” you blurted out, eyes flying open and transfixed on his visor, begging.

You let go of a pitiful groan when Din―you liked how his name rolled off your tongue―finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. Two of his thick fingers dove in your seeping pussy, slightly parting your walls in preparation―hopefully, if you were lucky―for his dick.

First slow, then a devilish rhythm his fingers imparted on you. The orgasm quickly built up again, Din’s dexterity beckoning you to climb to the hilltop. And you did, you let yourself feel all the pleasure he was giving you until it was too much, your clit raw and overstimulated by his precise thumb. You reached the top of the mountain and jumped into the abyss underneath. The wave of your climax washed over your, drowning you ― your cunt spasming around his fingers while your knees pressed together.

When you opened your eyes again, all tearful due to immensity of your frenzy, you were relieved to find that Din had released his throbbing erection through the zipper in his body stocking―you didn’t have the patience right now to unclasp all the armour pieces, you needed him now.

The sight of his engorged dick made your mouth water. The girth and the length of it should have made you flinch, but instead it made your pussy wet itself a bit more. It had the perfect size to fill your insides to the brim. Din’s hand moved up and down on his shaft, slowly pumping himself although he was already hard.

You lifted your hand towards his manhood, and he removed his to let you touch him ― for a second you were fascinated by the soft swaying of his cock. Then you wrapped your fingers around it and Mando grumbled, sitting on his heels, manspread for you as a tasty offering. He was a sight to see ― knelt and sat on his heels on the mattress, fully clothed, helmet on, armour hugging his body, and his erection peeking out through the zipper, leaky and throbbing just for you.

Giving him a few pumps, you looked up at him with a smirk. And before he could complain or stop you, you came closer to him and gave the plump head a lick, then sealed your lips around his leaking glans.

The groan that bubbled up his throat spurred you on to bob your head down, taking half of his pulsing length in your mouth.

Din’s hand tugged at your hair abruptly, pulling you off his twitching dick.

You glanced up at him confused.

“I can’t―I don’t think I can take a blowjob without blowing my load, mesh’la. I need to fuck you now,” he was honest with you.

It was understandable. He had been stuck here for at least eight years, which meant that he had not laid with a woman for at least as long. You would have lost your mind too if someone hadn’t touched you in that time.

“Come on then, fuck me, Din,” you mumbled, laying back down on the pile of pillows so your upper body was propped up.

You spread your legs, making room for him. Din swiftly shifted, dragging himself into position.

It was a fucking sight; one you had been dying to see. And he was finally there, all cozy in between your thighs. He parted your legs, resting the back of your knees on his shoulders. He pushed your panties to a side, leaving you completely exposed.

You couldn’t see, but you knew his eyes were focused on the prize―your damp, puffy folds, clit twitching and hole begging.

“Been wanting some pussy for a while now,” he confessed in a grumble, head tilted back when the tip of his veiny cock slipped up and down your damp furrow.

“Here I am, take what you need.”

How altruistic of you.

His mushroom, precum-covered head caught on your slick entrance and Din bucked his hips a little, only the tip smoothly going in. Your heartrate spiked, your walls imploring for the full length of him to clench on. And then, Din thrusted in harshly, pushing his cock in down to the hilt in one smooth jolt. You both howled in unison at the intrusion ― his a deep, guttural moan, yours a high-pitched one.

Mando held onto your knees on his shoulders as he started with the slow sway of his hips impacting on the back of your thighs, building the perfect pace. His dick dragged along the right spot inside you as he jackhammered you into the pillows, another orgasm gathering in your core. Din’s rhythm became frantic, frenzied, to the point where he had to let go of your knees and lean forward, his hands holding onto the rattling headboard.

Mando fucked you hard, drilling you like a man starved. You could feel him stuffing you full, his hard dick disappearing between your swollen, greedy pussy lips. Reaching up, you held onto his arms above you, fingers wrapping around his elbows. Your body rocked up and down on the bed below him with the force of his unrestrained charges.

Your cunt couldn’t take it anymore ― it contracted around his girth, announcing your second climax, which quickly overtook your senses. With stars in your vision, you wailed his name, now fisting the bedsheets as you came, a never-ending wave making your twitch under him uncontrollably.

“Fuck, I… Fuck,” he growled, his hips bucking and stuttering erratically at the sight of your fucked-out expression.

He was close, you knew by the way his dick constantly pulsed inside you ― he just needed a bit of prodding. That was your signal to clench your walls around him, squeezing him as hard and snug as you could, clamping on his thudding cock, never wanting to let him go.

That was his undoing ― you felt Din’s warm, thick spend painting your inner walls, his steely cock convulsing with the last waves of his release.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Din between your legs, his dick still buried inside you as it softened. The inside of his visor was fogged up and you doubted he could see much.

“I didn’t mean to come inside, I was gonna pull out―”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. He didn’t need to worry about that.

His helmet tilted, but whatever question lingered in his mind, he didn’t ask.

His thumb lightly pressed your relaxed clit with gratitude, massaging it softly, before he pulled out and your pussy released his shaft. That gentle stroke ignited your nerve endings, slowly coming back to life. His thumb then went down, gathering the cum your pussy was releasing, and shoved it back inside you.

You bit your bottom lip to stop a needy moan.

“Wanna go again?” you asked, grinning. Offering.

Din laughed. He fucking laughed. You had never heard him laugh before.

“Sure do, but I need a minute, mesh’la.”

Every night for the next two weeks Din found himself stranded in the corridor leading to your room, like a lost, thirsty man looking for water in the harsh desert of Tatooine.

The internal struggle was always the same ― he shouldn’t seek you because, after all, you were his prisoner. You were stuck here with him because he had forced you to, giving you no other choice. Sure, he had not imposed his presence on you―quite the opposite, in fact―but it still seemed wrong to take advantage of you like that.

But then he would see you come out of your room, almost as if you knew he was marooned there, and would approach him with caution. Willingly you would take his hand and lead him to your nest, erasing any doubts he could have about your eagerness. You were as keen as he was ― fucking had become an entertaining pastime. And a calming balm for the beast within.

It was the same dance every night, without failure. And tonight had been no different, except for the hushed “I want you so badly, Din” that had dropped from your parted lips as you rode the last wave of your orgasm, a blissful expression softening your features.

As he stood outside of your door, back towards it, Din wondered what you had truly meant. Was it just a benign slip of tongue or was there something else behind it? He hoped for the first, because he couldn’t afford the second.

Feeling something―anything―was out of the question. Even if he wanted to, didn’t matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t. Elsbeth had cursed him to an eternity of apathy, and it had worked ― over the curse of the last eight years, Din’s feelings had dimmed, diminished and then disappeared, while his inner monster became more powerful, feeding off his emotions like a leech sucking blood out of its host. Mando had tried to feel to keep the beast at bay ― would even make the droids try to anger him in silly competitions, but the dull sense in his chest just grew bigger and bigger, like a tumour rotting his entrails.

Din couldn’t remember what happiness felt like ― he had a barren wasteland for a heart. So cold were his insides, he even thought all his organs were covered in beskar. That was what brought him back to your room every night ― your warmth, how it would seep through the cracks of his skin, warming up a part of him that he thought dead.

Tonight, he had allowed himself to really feel your body against his ― helmet still on of course, you both had been stripped naked for the first time, your skin rubbing his, heating him up. Whether he would admit it or not, he craved you. Yearned for your warmth.

With a shake of his head, his feet finally unglued from your doorstep and sauntered towards the west wing. A single light at the end of the corridor twinkled, snuffing out the moment he stepped below it.

He swung the door open to a room he had not visited in a very long while. Din preferred to pay no mind to the source of his emotional detachment, but Nau’ul’s words had been nagging him for weeks now, an annoying reminder scratching the back of his brain.

“It dims more and more every day, Alor. The Darksaber is losing its glow.”

He had to see for himself.

The room should have been dark if it wasn’t for the light the Darksaber’s blade emitted. Din trudged towards the display stand in the middle of the empty space, where the Darksaber rested under a glass case. Two metal, U-shaped pins held the Darksaber upright.

An electrifying, white glow encased the black blade, but it was certainly fainter than what he remembered. Significantly fainter. It had taken him a few years to understand that the Darksaber was the vessel of his curse ― as his feelings dwindled and the beast grew fonder of control, so did the light of the Darksaber. He was not sure though about which one caused the other to wither away.

As he stared at it, Din pondered what would happen the day the light from the Darksaber would flicker away. Morgan had died before he could fully understand the idiosyncrasies of his malediction. At first, the frustration of the unknown had only driven him mad, especially when the full moons would bloom on the night sky, leaving him at the mercy of his curse.

The first time he had transformed, bathed by the white light of Concordia, Din thought he was dying. The burning sensation, the bones breaking and fusing back together, the stretch of his skin, the blood becoming cold in his veins and his mind spiralling out of control… He hadn’t died, but he sure wished he did. Only at dawn was he able to gain back control, so exhausted he just laid on the dirt near the Civic Center for an entire day before finding his way back to the royal prison.

Only with the insight of time did he decide it did not matter. The end was the end, and if that was the way, then he would greet it.

Din sighed, his eyes dry under the helmet. Looking around and knowing himself on his own, he carefully removed his helmet, wincing in agony, and placed it on top of the glass case. He pinched the bridge of his aquiline nose in an attempt to clear his mind, one hand resting on the glass.

Eyes shut for a long minute, he ended up fluttering them open. His reflection greeted him ― a terrible, gruesome sight, a face he almost didn’t recognise anymore. The scar that ran from the left of his chin diagonally to his right temple had distorted his features ― his chin slightly dented, the left corner of his mouth raggedy, the flesh on his upper left cheek mildly sunken around the scar, his crooked nose even more angular and his split eyebrow giving him a permanent frown. And then his right eye, completely blinded with a white discolouration covering his iris and pupil.

He could still feel the blade of the Darksaber melting his beskar helmet as Morgan pressed it against him. It hadn’t completely cut through the Mandalorian alloy, but the fire filtering through had burnt his skin, leaving an everlasting imprint on his face.

Din remembered the heat, the panic building up and the sizzling sound of his skin as it thawed like ice under the sun. The smell of burnt skill still haunted him sometimes when the helmet became too overwhelming.

The damaged tissue was thick but extremely sensitive ― every time he pulled the helmet off his head, the fabric inside would drag against the scar tissue, making him flinch in pain.

Shaking his head to release his mind from such memories, Din stared at the Darksaber for longer than intended, lost in his train of thought. For the first time in ages, he wanted to know if the curse could ever be broken.

Until you meet your Maker once more.

That had a pretty definite sentence to it. Death was the only way out.

“I didn’t see you last night,” you mumbled, repressing the need to add an ‘again’ to the end of your sentence.

You had noticed that there were certain nights when Mando would vanish, wouldn’t visit you at all. You wouldn’t see him in the morning either and if you asked any of the droids, they were as evasive as their master.

You still didn’t know why and every time you prodded him about it, his answer was…

“Had stuff to take care of.”

You sighed, pressing your lips into a thin line. The idea of slapping him had its appeal.

“Are we still going?” you quickly changed subject, not wanting to be disappointed with him today. “I’ve not really asked you for anything in the three months I’ve been here.”

You watched his gloved fingers drum on the metallic surface, helmet tipped to one side as he considered your words. You wanted to believe that in the time you both had spent together, Din’s undaunted façade had softened a bit. His replies had become less snappy, his posture slightly more relaxed, and his hands way more caring as they canvassed your skin every night.

An invisible force had been towing you towards him, his gravitational pull irresistible. Din Djarin was a challenge to you, a puzzle you had started putting together. He strived so hard to remain indifferent, it was now an exciting game to make him feel. The only downfall? You were falling for him. Perhaps him being the only man to walk this planet had something to do with it, you had no other options. Also, you knew that fucking the brains out of each other every night would eventually lead you here.

Considering that you had a lifetime to spend on this world, letting yourself feel for Mando was something you could afford. And even if he didn’t want to show it, you were positively sure he was not as apathetic towards you as he let on.

“Alright. I don’t see the harm,” he accepted.

You mumbled a “yes!” with a smile crooking your lips as you pushed the chair back to stand up.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”

You rushed out of the room to run to yours and change. The winter was receding, but the cold was still bitter and nippy, so you decided to put on appropriate gear. A few minutes later, you darted towards the lift, where Din was already waiting.

Couldn’t help yourself, you had to smile at him, the softness of your grin reaching your eyes.

Din cleared his throat, face facing forwards to avoid your orbs meeting his.

The way down in the elevator was soundless, but you had grown used to his silence treatment. The short journey to the crashing site was as tranquil as the trip down the lift. Mando was truly a man of few words.

When you caught a glimpse of your T-65B X-wing starfighter, you overtook Din and ran towards it in excitement.

“Careful there! The ground is slippery, you’re gonna―”

Before Mando could finish his warning, you recreated what his next words were going to be: you slipped on an icesheet. Waving your arms so you wouldn’t lose your footing, you ended up falling face first. You managed to partially stop the fall with your hands. The rocks underneath slashed your winter trousers, cutting your left shin.

By the time Din had gotten to your side, you had already stood up.

“You okay?” he asked with worry in his voice.

You nodded, smirking at the preoccupation he was showing.

“Yeah,” you lied. If he knew you had hurt yourself, you would be turning around and returning home empty-handed.

“Be more careful, will you? The ship ain’t going nowhere,” he snarled once he knew you were fine.

You rolled your eyes at him before strolling to the aircraft. Your old X-wing had seen better days ― the glass of the cockpit was smashed; vegetation had grown over the body. Moss covered most of it, painting it green instead of white. When you peeked inside the cabin, you realised it was flooded, all electrics wet. It was truly done for ― if you ever had any hope of leaving this planet, it would not be aboard your X-wing.

Din stood watch as you foraged for the item you were here for. After a few minutes, you located the star compass under the seat in the cockpit, drenched. Looking over your shoulder to see where Mando was, you opened the compass and water leaked everywhere. The black lodestone was static, unmoving ― maybe it just needed to dry off. Despite how damaged it was, you hoped it would still work. You were not planning on using it, obviously, but it was a reminder of your old life, one that now seemed very far away.

You couldn’t say you missed your previous life. The constant travelling had taken a toll on you in the last few years, having almost lost sight of searching for the Darksaber. Now that your feet were back down on the ground, gravity keeping you centred, this new life was not so bad after all.

“You found it?”

“Yeah!”

You quickly clasped the lid back down and jumped out of the cockpit. Perhaps you had lied to Din about what you were really looking for, but something in you told you not to tell the truth. So, when he asked you that morning why you wanted to go back to the shipwreck, you simply lied, telling him you were looking for your family’s locket ― a relic that had been passed down for generations.

The object was small enough to pass for one. You waved it at him quickly, not really showing it to him, before you shoved it in one of the pockets in your vest. Luckily Din didn’t ask for it, otherwise he would have realised it was made of beskar.

“Let’s go back then.”

“You’re bleeding,” Din’s fingers grabbed you by the elbow, yanking you back before you crossed the door to your room.

You looked down, having forgotten about the wound on your leg. You shrugged, downplaying it.

“It’s nothing, I’ll just take care of it now.”

“Like hell you are,” he growled with clenched teeth while dragging you inside.

He only let go of your elbow when you were by your unmade bed. Din stopped right in front of you, hands on hips. He nodded to you, commanding you to remove your trousers so he could see.

Your eyes rolled in frustration and clicked your tongue.

“It’s fine, Din. Don’t worry about it,” you dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

“I’ll decide if I have to worry or not.”

And, without prompt, he pulled down your trousers in a swift movement, leaving your legs bare. You huffed but let him help you out of them and remove your boots. Mando signalled you to sit on your bed and so you did. Din knelt in front of you, grabbing your hurt leg by the ankle until your heel was resting on his bent knee.

He inspected the wound for a minute after having removed his gloves. His fingertips burnt your skin where they ghosted over it.

“It’s not too deep, just a scratch.”

“I told you it was nothing. You have some unresolved trust issues, Din,” you joked, slightly leaning back with the heels of your hands flat on the mattress.

You couldn’t see but knew his eyes squinted under the visor.

“I’ll go get something to clean it. Wait here.”

Mando walked out and you took the chance to remove the uncomfortable coat. A minute later, he had returned with a clean rag and a small container with lukewarm water. He knelt in front of you again, grabbing your leg, and dutifully cleaned the wound.

You couldn’t help but sigh at the feathery touch of his fingers on the back of your knee. His proximity was enough to lighten your need for him. Also, being only in your underwear and a shirt while he was knelt between your legs did not help at all. Your imagination was already running wild ― and so your legs parted slightly, almost involuntarily.

Din’s attention shifted from the wound to your core. He tried to hide he was being distracted, but the helmet kept tilting to one side so he could have a better look at where your thighs met.

You chewed on your bottom lip, slick warmth pooling in between your legs.

“Din,” you hushed his name, your hand searching his so he would stop cleaning the wound.

The Mandalorian didn’t need much prodding after that. He towered above you rising to his feet, his hips at your eye level. You knew he was hard already, so couldn’t ignore the call of the siren.

With rigid steps, he walked towards the chest and placed the container dow. He scrunched the rag so the water dripped back into it. Soon enough, he was in front of you again, clean rag on hand.

“Do you trust me, mesh’la?” his modulated voice was low and husky.

You nodded vehemently.

“I want to try something different this time,” he murmured, the rag twisting in his hands. “But you gotta promise me you’ll behave for me.”

“I will,” you promised, breath hitching in anticipation.

“I’m going to blindfold you and remove my helmet. But I have only two ground rules: you can’t take it off and you can’t touch my face. At all. No excuses. Are we clear?”

A rush of lustful excitement ploughed through your veins. You found yourself nodding again, your neck hurting.

“Use your words, cyar’ika (beloved).”

“Yes. Crystal clear, Din,” you mumbled, widened, almost adoring eyes staring at him. You hadn’t missed the endearment term, although he seemed to not have noticed.

“Good,” he curled one finger at you.

You sat back up, hands laced on your lap patiently waiting as Din blindfolded you with the damp rag. He secured it with a very tight knot on the back and made sure three times that it would not go anywhere.

“If you break your promise, I’ll have to kill you,” the threat was very real, not even a hint of joke in it.

Your mouth went dry and your clit irremediably pulsed ― your pussy was already wet and warm for him. You shouldn’t get off on a death threat, but apparently Din could reduce you to a slick mess just like that.

“I-I won’t remove it. You have my word. Please.”

“Be a good girl for me and lay down on your back,” he commanded you and you happily obliged.

Your heartrate spiked as you heard Din discarding the beskar pieces over his body stocking. Maybe you were too eager, but he was taking too damn long. Then a hissing sound told you his helmet was gone.

This was fucking torture. You wanted to see him, to see the face of the man who made you wet with just a few words. It was cruel of him to impose something like this on you, such a prohibition. However, you understood what his Creed entailed and respected it.

Hated yourself right now for respecting it, but you did.

Din placed his hands on the back of your knees and lifted your legs up, the soles of your feet resting on either side of his naked hips. The warm palms of his hands caressed your ankles, massaging them briefly, before travelling up your calves and inner thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Unceremoniously, his fingers curled around the hem of your panties and pulled them down your legs; you couldn’t see but were sure he had thrown them away.

The Mandalorian exhaled audibly the moment his hands landed on your knees and pulled your legs apart. You squirmed, knowing he was devouring you with his eyes.

“Din, please, just―” you whimpered, moany and needy, anticipating.

“Shush. Don’t be so impatient, mesh’la,” he chastised you while stepping back.

That was the first time you listened to his real, manly voice. It was deep and raspy, surly yet sweet.

Your feet, no longer supported on his hips, dropped to the ground.

“Go on your fours,” he talked you through the position he wanted you in as you obeyed. “Now lean down, rest that pretty face of yours on the mattress for me.”

With your perky ass up in the air, you felt very exposed with your inner thighs pressed together and framing your swollen pussy like a pretty picture just for him.

One of his fingers traced your wet slit and you had to stop yourself from wiggling your hips until his finger was partially inside you.

“Look at her, all drippy and puffy for me. She knows what’s coming, doesn’t she? That’s why she’s so fucking wet,” he hummed, shuffling behind you.

You couldn’t see him, but you were damn sure he was on his knees at the feet of the bed.

Din placed his hands on your ass cheeks and parted them, the skin in your sticky furrow stretching while his thumbs caressed your labia. Your cunt was on full display, and you could feel the cold air of the room against your damp, sensitive skin.

“At last, I can claim her as mine,” Din whispered, his hot breath fanning on your pussy now, sending shivers up your spine.

You moaned, finally understanding what was coming.

He didn’t keep you waiting. Din’s tongue lapped your whole pussy in one go and your entire body trembled at the wet touch, his beard prickling your skin. Covering your mouth, you swallowed a pitiful whimper while your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. Mando’s broad hands squeezed your ass, grounding you, as he leaned forward again to drink from the fountain of your pleasure.

His tongue dipped in your creamy slit and stroked it slowly, deliberately loitering around your clit, but never really paying it much attention. He kissed your swollen lips, making out with them as if they were your mouth, the tip of nose intimately caressing your perineum. With the help of his fingers, he splayed open your quivering cunt, your hole accessible to the apex of his mischievous tongue.

Din licked you for minutes on end, ignoring your pulsing clit on purpose. The tension inside you coiled almost uncomfortably, so intense it would snap at any given moment. His devilish persuasion was relentless, more so when he would introduce his tongue in your very core.

You bucked your hips against his mouth, grinding. Desperate.

“Din, please, please, here,” you begged, slipping one of your hands down your belly and in between your legs.

You parted your slippery pussy lips, your clit hitching between them, showing him exactly where you wanted his goddamn tongue.

“Here, please,” you insisted, teary-eyed, at the edge of your patience.

“So impatient, mesh’la,” he chuckled behind you, still on your fours for him.

Finally, his lips latched onto your clit, and you whined out loud, pure elation running through your veins at the sweet suckling of his mouth. His teeth grazed the sensitive nub, and you saw stars behind your eyes, head slightly tilted backwards as you mewled until your throat felt raw.

Din sucked on your clit harshly at the same time two of his thick fingers found their way to your oozing hole. You screamed a resounding “fuck” at the perfect intrusion. The combination of his tongue and his digits were more than what your nervous system could take. Lick, pump, lick, pump ― the perfect rhythm making your toes curl, your pussy clench and your clit set ablaze.

The whole pussy-eating-from-the-back situation was too much ― his fingers ever so tantalising, you surrendered. Rubbing your cunt against his mouth, you moaned his name as the best orgasm of your life almost rendered you unconscious. You came on his mouth while Din just sipped from you, drinking all your discharge as if it was the last drops he would ever taste.

You could only hear your heart beating in your eardrums, all your senses overwhelmed. You were so out, you had almost forgotten the rag blindfolding you.

“You’re gonna come again for me, mesh’la,” only then did you realised his fingers were still inside you.

You panted, gathering your thoughts.

“I don’t think I can,” you mumbled, entranced.

“Oh, you can and you will,” he groaned, accepting the challenge.

And with that, his wicked lips pressed against your cunt, and he started all over again. As it turned out, he was fucking right. His tongue and his fingers were working you so well, there was no way you could resist. However, this time, there weren’t two fingers stuffed in your whole, but four. Your walls were so outstretched it should have been painful, but it wasn’t ― he had made sure to get you ready, pliant under his dutiful care.

“I wonder if you could take him. Bet you could,” Din whispered in a moment of respite.

“Huh?”

All thoughts dispersed when the second climax spread across your entire body, leaving you exhausted; a pitiful, sweaty mess on the bedsheets.

“Turn around and lay down. I’m gonna fuck you stupid,” the crudeness of his words should have made you frown but instead you smiled, completely blissed out.

Din made good on his promise. On your back and with your legs parted, you heard him moving around until he was between your thighs. Then he leaned forward, his hands on either side of your shoulders to keep his weight off you, and his hard shaft dove inside your cunt with no resistance. When he bottomed out, he snapped his hips back and then forth, until he was rutting into you like a man on death row.

Your hands held onto his back, your nails digging in his skin. You wanted to move them up and sink them in his hair so badly, your palms were itchy with longing. He had said you couldn’t touch his face; he hadn’t said anything about his hair. Hoping he wouldn’t notice your intentions, your hands drifted up his back, arriving at the nape of his neck.

So close to burying your hands in his hair, so fucking close…

“Don’t,” he growled at you, the snapping of his hips against yours unforgiving. “The fucking audacity. I. said. don’t. fucking. touch,” he punctuated every word with deep, sharp thrusts.

You winced and gasped at the depth of his dives, your mouth shaping a perfect O, back arched off the mattress below you. Every stab of his dick kissed your cervix, and you just couldn’t stop moaning uncontrollably. The mild pain quickly blossomed into ecstasy; your skin electrified with pleasure.

Suddenly you felt his mouth ghosting over yours; his unfiltered, gruffy grunts were music to your ears. You reached up, wanting to steal a kiss from him to taste his lips for the first time, but he slithered back.

“You don’t respect boundaries, do you?” Din rumbled.

His voice should have had a tinge of anger, but instead it sounded… amused?

“You have had a taste of me, it’s only fair I get something in return, Din,” you bargained breathlessly, but got no reply. “Please?”

Imploring for a measly kiss from your captor while he kept on fucking you. That had to be a new low in your book.

You couldn’t see him as he jackhammered you into the mattress, but knew he was debating. Whatever inner debate he had, the side you were banking on won.

“You keep your hands on my back at all times. Yes?” One of his hands moved to your neck, his dextrous fingers wrapping around your throat. “Or I’ll―”

“Kill me. I know. Elek, Alor (yes, Master),” you whispered in Mando’a, breath hitching.

His mouth came crashing down on yours, teeth colliding in a very messy kiss. His tongue sought yours with fervour and sucked it into his mouth. He tasted like you.

You couldn’t help but moan in midst of the sloppy kiss, your heart finally content at his small yet meaningful surrender. The grip of his hand around your neck softened but didn’t dissolve, adding another layer of excitement to his unabating thrusts.

“Gar serim, cyar’ika (that’s it, beloved). You’re so good, so fucking good for me. Warm, tight pussy always ready for me when I need her. She never disappoints,” he maundered, your brain spiralling with his praise.

Praising your cunt, not actually you, but you would take anything he would give you.

A few minutes later, the breathy groans of your making out along with the squelching sounds of your lust filled the air, quickly followed by the loud moans announcing your climaxes. Your cunt clamped on Din’s dick―a promise you’d never let him go―and he blew his load inside you. The tackiness of his cum filled your insides as his cock pulsed one last time and his lips pecked yours.

Din dropped to your side, panting with exhaustion, and you just laid there pondering all the decisions that had taken you there.

You’d never let him go.

When the fuck did that happen?

“How long does winter last here?”

“A good part of the year, around six months,” he replied dryly.

He was aware of the fact that you had been trying to get words out of him for the past week. Make conversation, talk about his story, his past, his interests. See if there was any common ground between you. But Din couldn’t bring himself up to actually share personal details.

And every time you tried, and he would dodge your attempts, he would see the disappointment painted across your face. And every time, something unknown would uncomfortably stir within him. He suspected you had started to harbour feelings for him ― and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t reciprocate you. Didn’t want to break your heart.

It was his fault, really, for seeking you out every night. You were so giving and him so greedy, he just mindlessly took what you offered without giving you anything in return except for a few orgasms and a good time.

“What did you do last winter? Bet it was boring being home with just the droids…”

Din knew very well what answer you were expecting: It was. Your presence has been a great improvement. You make my days―and nights―more bearable.

But instead, he shrugged.

“Dunno. Kept myself busy with stuff,” he muttered frugally.

He kept on walking before you, making the way back home after a quick stroll around to breathe some cold, fresh air.

The Mandalorian did not expect to be attacked by a snowball, which hit the back of his helmet. He quickly turned around.

“What the hell are you―?”

Before he could finish his question, you hit him again with another snowball, dead centre on his visor.

“You are such a prick, Din Djarin,” you snapped between gritted teeth, patting another snowball between your gloved hands. “Would it actually kill you to be a bit more open, hm?”

This time he saw the attack coming and was able to duck, avoiding the next snowball.

“Are you mad?”

“Yes, I’m mad, you fucking idiot!” you yelled at him, trudging forwards with another snowball on hand. “I’m mad for you, but either you’re fucking blind or you’re a cold-hearted jerk.”

Little did you know he was actually blind in one eye, but it didn’t seem to be the time to point it out.

The sudden love confession caught him off guard. You were not supposed to say that. You were not supposed to feel that way, not for him.

Din remained calm as you cut the distance and tried to smash the fourth snowball on his covered face. His fingers gripped your wrist before you were able to do so.

“You’re just confused, mesh’la. All the sex is blindsiding you, but you really don’t feel anything for me,” he reasoned.

You looked at him as if he had slapped you and took a step back.

“Of course, because you, the freaking Tin Man with a dead heart, know better than myself how I feel. Un-fucking-believable, honestly. Go fuck yourself, Din,” you scoffed, pushed him to one side and walked past him.

Din saw you disappear through the sliding door, while he stood there in disbelief.

What the fuck had just happened?

You kind of expected Din not to show up at your door tonight, but his absence in your bed stung either way. Sure, you had told him to go fuck himself, but now with a new―horny―perspective, you would prefer if he fucked you instead.

Infuriated with him, yourself and the situation, you sat back up on your empty bed. You reached for the drawer in your nightstand and opened it, grabbing the star compass inside. Fidgeting with the aurodium clasp, you wondered why the fuck Din didn’t open up. After three months and a half with him, you had thought you had been able to break through his armour ― the figurative one, not the real one.

Every time you tried to talk about your relationship with him, Din would shut you out or wouldn’t even engage in the conversation at all. He was more stubborn than a falumpaset, and that was saying something. Despite his indifference, you believed that, deep down in that cold, dead heart of his, he cared for you. Maybe he didn’t love you, but at least cared for you.

You didn’t even know if you loved him, anyway. Infatuated was, most probably, more accurate, you’d like to think. Most days you pushed that thought to the remotest corner of your mind, not wanting to consider it. Because, after all, you were his prisoner ― you might forget it some days, but the reality was that Din Djarin was your captor. So maybe it wasn’t love ― perhaps it was just a survival mechanism. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Amid your pondering, you almost didn’t realise that the hands of the compass had moved, and the lodestone was humming, the plasma inside slowly swirling around. Your heart jolted in your ribcage, almost dropping to your stomach, when you finally paid it attention.

“Shit!” you exclaimed, jumping out of bed.

You had hoped it would work once it fully dried, but you were not expecting it to be actually functioning. It seemed to sense the Force emitted by the Darksaber, but that couldn’t be possible. If the Darksaber was here, in Mandalore, Din would know―would have told you. Right?

No, he wouldn’t have.

With that thought in mind, you put on some more decent clothes and cracked open your door. Carefully, you peeked in the corridor to confirm the coast was clear. It was close to midnight, so you hoped everyone―Din and the droids―would have gone to rest.

Tiptoeing through the hallway, you followed the path the star compass was pointing to, only to find yourself in the west wing after a few minutes. You knew you shouldn’t be here, but the compass hummed louder, vibrating on the palm of your hand, as you turned another corner. Looking up from your family’s relic, you saw a door at the end of the hallway.

“BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEP BOOP! BIP! PIP!” Din’s astromech robot, an old R2-D2 unit, screeched at you loudly, skidding and coming to a halt in front of you. It even had a red light flashing at you.

You almost threw your heart up there and then, the little robot giving you the biggest scare of your life.

“CA’NARA!” you told him off as your heartrate slowed down. “Fucking hell, you almost killed me, little devil.”

“BEEP! PIPIPIPI!” the droid beeped at you, going around you in circles.

“I know I shouldn’t be here, sorry!” you whispered, “I-I’m a sleepwalker!”

Ca’nara seemed to calm down, only for Nau’ul to appear in scene.

Great, fucking great.

“Ca’nara, what’s going on?” the protocol droid turned the corner, almost bumping into you. “Oh! What are you doing here?”

“I- Uhm, I was just telling Ca’nara that I’m a sleepwalker. He literally just woke me up. I didn’t mean― you know I cause no trouble, Nau’ul,” you pleaded with the affable droid.

“Of course, of course,” he took a couple of stiff steps back. “What’s that on your hand?”

Fuck. You looked down, coming up empty with a lie.

“I don’t know. I literally just woke up, I don’t know where I got it from,” you stammered a bit, but the droid didn’t pick up on it.

“I’ll take it. Alor will know what it is and where it belongs,” Nau’ul extended his hand towards you.

If you didn’t give it up, it would arouse suspicion. So, unwillingly, you passed it on to him.

“Where’s he?” the question slipped your tongue before you could refrain.

“Alor is… indisposed, miss. He needs to rest,” he replied cryptically as you both walked back to the main corridor where your bedroom was.

“Indisposed? Is he sick? Is he okay?” you instantly worried.

“He’ll be better in the morning, fret not,” he paused in front of your room, and you opened the door. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Nau’ul,” you mumbled before closing the door behind you.

What a varping disaster. Nau’ul had confiscated your star compass, which meant that Din would eventually see it. If it came to it, you were not sure what you would do. And you still didn’t know what was in that room, why the compass had gone crazy as you approached it. But you had a pretty good idea. Chances were, the Darksaber was on the other side of that door at the end of the west corridor.

Sighing, you sauntered towards the big window in your room. Two perfectly aligned full moons dominated the night sky, their white, sparkly glow bouncing off the walls. It was a beautiful sight.

Something in the path below caught your attention. A metallic reflection. Your eyes drifted down just in time to see Din running towards the Civic Center, as if a thousand ghosts were on his heels.

You frowned, confused. Where was he going at this witchy hour? Wasn’t he sick?

A scary thought formed in your head. Were you under attack? Had Ash come looking for you after several weeks without returning his messages?

Heart pounding with worry, you darted to the door and then the lift. Whatever threat was coming, you would face it with him. With such resolution in mind, you followed his trail.

Your concern for him skyrocketed when you arrived at the Civic Center and saw nothing but pieces of his armour scattered around. You snatched the shin and thigh armour off the steps to the main door, only to look up and find more bits spread around the entryway.

This made no sense at all. Why would Din dispose of his armour? Something was wrong, very wrong, but you were not under attack.

You gathered all the armour pieces in your arms while calling his name but heard nothing except the whistling of wind passing through cracks and crannies.

Suddenly, you felt the need to look down the stairs to the Living Waters. A hunch rooting in your core, wrapping around your heart. Then a faint, painful growl came from underneath and all your senses flared alive.

What was Din doing down there? In the Mythosaur’s lair?

Panic hiked up your throat as you hiked down the stairs, the animalistic snarl louder now as you drew nearer. At the bottom of the steps, eyes fixed on your shoes, you dared to glance up.

His armour fell from your arms on to the ground, clattering. You were not prepared to see what you found.

Din was half curled up on the floor, naked and dragging himself towards the water. Only he was way bigger ― almost seven feet tall, his body much more muscular with chiselled, blueish veins across the whole of him, hands big as paws with his nails digging the dirt underneath.

You took a step forward, catching a better glimpse of him. Then you truly saw ― his skin had a viridescent tint to it and had started to scale. Rugged lumps raised from the skin on his back, tiny bones protruding through. No, not bones ― small horns, like those of a reptile.

Not like a reptile. Like a Mythosaur. Only smaller than the beast you saw a few weeks ago.

With a guttural bellow, he removed his helmet, throwing it to on side as he crawled towards the rippling water. His head was crowned by thick, short, greyish curls ― exactly what you had imagined.

“Din?” you whispered, taking a precautious step towards him, one hand extended in front of you to appease him.

His head snapped around at the sound of your voice.

You gasped at the sight of him. What first struck you was the scar across his face, one that would perfectly line up with the mended crack on his helmet. It ran diagonally through his rugged features, distorting them and hugging that crooked nose. His teeth seemed slightly pointier too. The next thing you noticed were his blown, bloodshot eyes with pupils as big as his sclerae.

Not eyes, one eye ― the right one was completely discoloured, covered in a white sheen.

He still looked like Din, but… not really.

The vision in front of you should have scared you. Even more so when Din stared at you, and you saw nothing in his expression ― he didn’t recognise you. Whoever, or whatever, this was, he wasn’t the man that had kept you company for the last few months.

Logic dictated you should run in the opposite direction. Instead, you propelled forwards towards him, knees skidding on the dirt and landing by his side.

The warm touch of an alien hand grounded him for an ephemeral instant. The bitter cold crawled under his scaled skin, rejecting the heat like a limping animal avoiding the helping hand of a human.

He snarled, creeping back and away from you, as if your mere proximity was a threat to him.

Because it was.

“Din, I’m here, let me help you,” you besought, dragging your knees towards him again.

He didn’t know who Din was. Where he was or had gone. Did he ever exist? The Beast didn’t know―didn’t care. So he growled again, but his futile attempt didn’t keep you at bay. Guessed you had a death wish, only that could explain your blatant refusal to his rejection.

Both your hands fell upon him, like warm blood spilling and enlivening his senses. For once the cold running wild through his veins minimised, giving way to a hot flush that was foreign to him. The sudden warmth surprised him ― but what shocked him the most was how soothing it was, how easy was for him to crave your touch. A primal need.

The Beast had forgotten what warmth was, having been cursed to a lifetime of coldness for as long as he could remember. Crazed by this newfound feeling, he slowly sat back up on the ground, eyeing you like a predator watching his prey.

Your hand reached up to him to cradle his cheek and the Beast closed his eyes, that warm feeling running down his neck, wrapping around his dead yet beating heart.

“You’re so cold,” you mumbled as you cut the distance some more, your chest nudging his side.

Another heatwave flashed through him ― your warmth beckoning, your body too inviting. He wanted to dive in, to let your warmth surround him, make him surrender. He craved it so bad, so fiercely, the Beast bowed down to sink his forked tongue in your mouth ― unannounced, unrequited.

You moaned at the intrusion, your hands lacing on the nape of his neck, and that only spurred him on. He gave in to your warmth and gave up his restraints. Growling, he plundered your mouth as he forced you down onto the ground.

Towering above you, his tongue slipped out of your mouth to graze your neck, and you shivered under him. Biting your chin, he returned to your lips to kiss you, to suck out your warmth to replenish himself. Like a leech he drank from you while his rough, broad hands roamed your body.

“Din,” you mewled.

He didn’t like this Din whose name you were moaning. So he kissed you, not wanting to hear it again and tugged at your clothing. Impatient, he almost tore your garments apart and only relaxed a little when you were completely naked beneath him.

Pressing his bare body against yours, he revelled, soaking in your heat. But there was a part of you that was hotter, and he could sense it ― like a tracking fob, he pursued the warm feeling as he slithered down your frame.

The heat pulsing from between your thighs called him home, hypnotising. You pressed your knees together and he snarled, his sight darting to your glassy, dreamy eyes, silently distraught at your denial.

He leaned down over you to graze one of your nipples, smothering it raw to show you what he could do to you down in your balmy core. His demonstration worked, because the next time he coaxed your legs apart, you showed no resistance.

So down he went on you, fingers splaying out your puffy folds to display the focal point of his desire. Like a thirsty animal his bifid tongue darted out and swept the length of your damp slit in one slow, sweet sweep. He howled into your pussy, besotted, his arms wrapping around your thighs as he devoured your seeping cunt. Warmth poured from your clit, and he latched onto it rather harshly, finally finding the beacon that reeled him in.

“Fuck, that― Mhmm,” whatever you were going to say died in your lips as a moan hitched in your throat and your body trembled.

A rush of liquid fire met his tongue, and he accepted your offering as your thighs quivered around him ― the strength of your release eased slowly, but his tongue didn’t.

His fingers found the warm cave he needed to nestle in. But before he could do that, before his brain got fucked out into oblivion, he had to prepare you to take him. He massaged your leaking entrance one digit at a time until you were sweetly stretched around four of his fingers.

You whimpered with the first pump and slowly you eased into it, into the feeling of being full to the brim. He licked and flicked your throbbing clit, the hot nub driving him wild. Your inner walls tightened, announcing another climax, and he pulled it out of you with his fist still immersed in your pussy.

Once you came down from your high, the Beast unburied from between your thighs and loomed over you. Your half-lidded eyes and fucked-out expression only made him harder, hotter. He hungered for the moment your bodies would connect; the moment he would finally feel only warmth running through his veins. The moment the cold was forgotten, albeit only fleetingly.

The tip of his cock nudged at your pliant entrance, and he trailed the head up and down your dewy furrow a few times. Your eyes blew open the moment he poked at your hole, parting your flesh, and you looked down at his dick kissing the mouth to your cave.

“Din, I don’t think― Oh, holy FUCK,” you mumbled something uncoherent afterwards, head tilted back and your teeth sinking in your bottom lip as your pleading metamorphosed into moaning.

His whole frame blanketed yours as he supported his weight off you by placing his forearms to either side of your head.

Slowly, inch by inch, he buried himself in you, suffocating heat radiating from where you two met. He growled, an animalistic bellow bubbling up his throat as he felt your walls swallowing him, sheathing his throbbing cock. And when he was fully embedded in you, buried almost down to the hilt, you whined as he remained still ― your walls adjusting around him. He was maddened by the warmth of you.

Only when he felt you relax around him, did he start pumping in and out of you. His mind went blank as his sight transfixed on yours and your foreheads touched, another bridge between you. The Beast rutted into you, first paced, then madly, as he stared into your soul. Your body rocked up and down underneath him, your back arched so your nipples caressed the bare skin of his chest.

The movement of water behind him made him look over his shoulder. The Great Mythosaur had resurfaced, only the top of his head and his eyes were above the water table. Watching, ever present and lurking. Eager. Wanting.

He growled at him, a warning to back the fuck down ― he wasn’t sharing you; you were all for himself and himself only. His exclusive prey, no one else’s. With a low rumble, the Great Mythosaur disappeared under the water, and he refocused on you.

Tension built up at the base of his spine, his cock pulsating so hard it was difficult to ignore it any longer. And then your pussy clenched around him as you orgasmed once more, and that inevitably milked him dry ― both of you moaning in unison as ropes of thick, white cum painted your inner walls, leaving a lasting imprint in your core.

The Beast panted above you ― all coldness deserted from his body, destituted by your unique warmth.

He sat back up, his engorged cock leaving your entrails. Through the daze in your eyes, you looked at him with a satisfied grin. As you sat up straight, you lifted one hand towards him, softly placing it on the center of his chest.

“Come back to me, Din,” you begged, and all hell broke loose within him.

The pain, the shearing pain, blinded all his senses as his bones snapped and rearranged again. His jaw clenched to stop the agonising screams hiking up his throat. Din hunkered down as his body adjusted back to normal size.

As grievous as it was, it was over very quickly. Too quickly. He had not fully transformed into the Beast, which meant easing out of it was not as traumatic.

What was traumatic was the sudden landslide of overwhelming feelings taking form inside him. Almost a decade of apathy meant years’ worth of emotions repressed ― emotions that would emerge to the surface if given the opportunity. And whatever you unleashed within him, flooded his brain and his heart.

A myriad of sentiments rushed through him ― joy, anger, hope, disappointment, serenity, desperation. All at once, a cacophony bursting his eardrums. So loud were his emotions, all boiling together inside him, his thoughts were drowned. He couldn’t think ― panic was setting in.

Din panted as his arms and legs trembled uncontrollably, lungs vacating all oxygen in sharp exhales. His ears rang and his heart threatened to climb up his throat and run. Eyes closed shut, he grasped for control.

“Din, I’m here,” your hands slid on his back, grabbing him by the shoulders.

A soothing balm taking many of his worries away. Your palms smoothing out his skin felt like an anchor. One he desperately tried to hold onto.

Through the fog of his anxiety, he saw you knelt by his side, hugging him close. Naked as he was, a sweaty patina clinging to your skin. Although Din had not been in possession of his own body, he had been relegated to the background and had been witness to everything that happened. Forced to watch him take you.

He felt sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry. I can’t control him, I just―,” he wheezed as he sat back up.

Your soft eyes sparkled, a faint smile curling up your lips. Your fingers snaked through his hair, combing it back.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Din,” you hugged him tighter, reassuring, kissing one of his shoulders.

“Are you hurt? Did I― did he…?”

“I’m completely fine. A bit… sensitive and raw. But in a good way,” you added with a faint chuckle.

The comforting caress of your hand rubbing his back and your lips brushing the skin on his shoulder made him believe you.

Even though the look in your eyes had not changed, he could see the questions dancing in your pupils. Questions you were holding back, but that would eventually spurt out.

Your free hand reached for his left cheek, and he almost flinched at the proximity. Your thumb had come too close to the scar, sending a shot of pain down his neck. But he didn’t lean back away from you. Instead, Din stilled under your touch.

“I knew you’d be gorgeous underneath that helmet,” you whispered, your mouth close to his.

Din grunted, taking your compliment as an offense. Why were you mocking him? He knew how he looked ― he didn’t need you making fun of him for it.

And why was he upset? He shouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Your tiny fingers wrapped around his wrist when he reached for the helmet nearby. You yanked his forearm until his eyes met yours.

“I wasn’t joking. I mean it, Din. Truly,” you husked, hand again on his cheek and thumb too close for comfort.

He couldn’t see a sliver of jest in your features. You were deadpan serious. And that scared him.

Din looked away, coming to terms with the flaring emotions. Emotions. Even the unspoken word tasted weird on his tongue.

You moved away from him to quickly gather your clothes and put them on. Then returned to his side with his armour and clothing.

“Let’s go back home, Din. You look knackered,” you mumbled, kneeling by his side again.

Din didn’t reject your aid when you helped him get dressed again. Taking the helmet between your hands, he bowed down his head so you could put it on for him.

His body ached in places he didn’t even know could hurt ― all the restructuring his bones had to endure always took a physical toll on him. So much so, he needed your help to stand up ― his legs felt like those of a newborn humbaba.

But today… today it also took an emotional toll on him.

He really was exhausted.

You probably needed time to process what had happened tonight, a whirlwind of questions and doubts battered around in your mind. But you didn’t want to leave Din alone, not when he looked so fatigued, a moment away from breaking.

Walking down the silent corridor beside him, arm draped around his waist, you went past your room. You had never been to his and hoped tonight would be the night where he would let you spend it by his side.

Hand heavy on the handle, you pushed it down and the door swung open. You didn’t know what to expect and, somehow, the bareness of his room did not surprise you at all. The metalwork on the walls had been painted black and the furniture was sparse. A massive bed with black bedsheets dominated the room.

Despite the monochromatic theme, it felt cozy, inviting even. Dragging him towards the bed, you gently pushed him down on to the mattress and knelt in front of him to remove his boots.

“I can do it,” his words slurred.

“I know. But let me do it, please,” you muttered, throwing the shoes to one side.

Din hummed in agreement, so slowly you unfastened all the beskar pieces again. Removed the vest underneath and unzipped his body stocking down the side, helping him out of it.

There was something extremely intimate about undressing him. Not with a deprived end in mind, but a caring one.

I could do this forever. Only if you’d let me, the intrusive thought didn’t startle you. Because it was true.

Last, you placed your hands to either side of his helmet to pull it up. By pure instinct, his hands darted up to yours to stop you from uncovering his face.

“It’s okay, Din,” you reassured him softly.

Din crooned again, arms falling to his sides, surrendering, and you took it off, leaving it on the nightstand.

You could truly get used to this; you’d never tire of looking at him. His rugged features, although distorted by the nasty scar, were pleasant. His soft, brown and white eyes, the aquiline nose, the moustache blending in with the beard, the strong jaw. You only saw beauty, no beast.

Mando let himself fall backwards and you stood there by the side of the bed, unsure of what to do with yourself.

He decided for you.

“Stay, please,” he purred, half asleep by the time his head touched the pillow underneath.

He didn’t need to say more. Removing your clothes, you joined him under the bedlinen with a smirk.

The first lights of the morning filtered through the big window in Din’s bedroom. You had been awake for an hour now, but he had been so peacefully sleeping, you didn’t want to disturb him.

A tangled mess of limbs you were, your legs intertwined with his while your right cheek rested on his bare chest. Your left forearm was splayed across his abdomen, the tips of your fingers mindlessly caressing his ribs.

Pressing a kiss to his left pec, he stirred under you, slowly coming out of his slumber. You hugged him tighter, an easy smile surfacing.

“Good morning,” you husked when he looked down at you with just his left eye open, lips slightly curled downwards.

His addled expression made you snicker as you kissed his jawline.

“Morning,” he hushed back once his brain registered your words.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Everything hurts, but I’m okay.”

The arm of his under you moved, bringing you closer to him in a half embrace.

“I know you have questions,” he said a few moments later.

“Understatement of the year,” you joked, lifting your head slightly up to rest your chin on his chest. “Is now a good time?”

“Might as well,” his reply was accompanied by a smirk.

“You didn’t transform fully last night, did you?”

Din shook his head. “No, just halfway. I think your presence stopped it from happening.”

Did that mean that you could soothe the beast? That you could help Din in a way that really mattered? The mere possibility filled your belly with butterflies.

“And, well, the most obvious one… How?” you emphasized the last word.

“A witch cursed me before I killed her,” you looked at him quizzically, eyebrows raised, and he sighed. “A man by the name of Moff Gideon had someone I held dear under his grasp. A kid I was fond of,” he paused to gather his thoughts while your breath hitched at the name of Moff Gideon. “I fought Gideon to free him. I won, but he had backup I did not see coming. A witch named Morgan Elsbeth. She came to his rescue and I ended up killing her. Her last breath cursed me to an existence of apathy and becoming a beast. Guess it worked,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “That was eight years ago and ever since then, my ability to feel has been dying out while the beast has only gotten stronger.”

Your head spun with so much information, you almost felt dizzy. Did Din fight Moff Gideon? Was it his halo you chased eight years ago?

“Is that how you got the crack on your helmet and the scar?” you ventured, heart pounding.

“Mhm,” was his only reply. “How I lost my right eye too.”

The helmet was made of beskar, one of the strongest alloys in the Galaxy. Only a weapon strong enough would be able to melt it. But you couldn’t push him for more details, or it would be suspicious.

And did it really matter? Did you care that much about the Darksaber? Yes, you had spent your whole life looking for it; yes, you had promised your dying father you would finish the mission. But that felt like a lifetime ago.

“What was the kid’s name? What happened to him?”

“Grogu. He is Force sensitive, he went to the Jedi for training,” he pursed his lips, and your fingers smoothed out the crow’s feet around his right eye.

“You miss him,” you hummed, your fingertips tracing imaginary lines on his skin.

“I didn’t think I did. Till now,” he confessed, stirring under you. “I don’t know, it’s weird. Since last night I have started to… feel again. And it’s overwhelming.”

Your heart did a little jump against your ribcage. If he could feel now, did he feel for you?

You were too scared to ask, so didn’t.

“Maybe the curse is fading?”

“Maybe,” he said back, sounding unconvinced. “You hungry?”

You nodded.

“I’ll go get something. Bet Nau’ul has prepared a feast. Whether it’s edible or not, I don’t know.”

You chuckled at the joke and moved off him so Din could get up. In silence, you watched him dress, his back muscles rippling with every movement.

Yes, you could get used to this.

Fuck the Darksaber. Fuck everything. You just wanted to live your life. With him. Here, in Mandalore. Only if he’d let you.

It was selfish of you to think this way, but Din’s curse had become your blessing.

Every night since you discovered his secret, you’d go to his room and spend the hours of darkness with him. He would reluctantly take the helmet off, but each time you would reassure him he couldn’t scare you away, that what he thought he looked like didn’t matter in the slightest. And you meant every single word. In your eyes, he was perfect just the way he was.

There was still the issue of his Creed forbidding him, but you wondered if it was more habit than anything else.

And every full moon, you would follow him down to the Mythosaur lair to let him take you, excitement running through your veins every single time. You knew you shouldn’t enjoy it but allowing him to fuck you in beast form was exhilarating. Even with practice you had still not been able to take him fully ― his cock too big to bear. It was worse when you attempted a blowjob on him ― your jaw almost dislocated. But you were more than happy to try, obviously.

And of course, it helped him regulate, which was the most important point of all. He had told you he didn’t feel as cold either. Even if his body was hot to the touch, Din had explained how his organs, his blood, felt like icicles. Ever since the beast had had a taste of your warmth―Din’s words, not yours―it seemed like his feelings were slowly crawling back.

That had been interesting too. After so many years spent numb, Din had had a bit of trouble dealing with his emotions. Sometimes they were extreme, out of proportion even, but he was learning how to manage them. Although most days felt like one step forward and three back, especially when it was a touchy subject such as love.

You had tried, but Din was still of the idea that he couldn’t truly feel ― that this was just a glitch, a shortcut, but not the real thing. And because of his stupid theory, he didn’t want to hear you say anything about The Matter. You had seen how much he had improved, how much better he could deal with everything, and yet he wouldn’t listen to you in that respect.

You rolled your eyes, still thinking about it, as you trekked through the mud. It was a crispy morning, but the cold had started to recede. Poor Ca’nara had a faulty retractable third leg ― the inside mechanism was getting jammed regularly. You had decided to be proactive and walk to the landing site of your X-wing, in the hopes that some parts of your astromech droid were salvageable. An extremely long shot, yes, but you had to try at least.

In full armour, Din sauntered towards the dining room, where the three droids seemed to be conferring about something.

None of them heard him coming, and Nau’ul startled dramatically when he saw him.

“Oh! Alor! What― Uh, do you want something to eat?” he asked, looking at Mrs. Kri’gee and Ca’nara nervously.

Din frowned, suspicious of their jumpy, evasive behaviour.

“No, I’m fine,” he mumbled as his eye caught a glimpse of something shiny Nau’ul was holding, trying to conceal it. “What’s that?”

“Ah, this? Well. You see, I― It’s― Nothing really. I don’t really know what―” his stammering was riling Din up.

He was a damn droid, not a fucking human. How could Nau’ul get edgier than himself? Unbelievable.

“Give,” he extended his hand towards the droid, palm up, and curled his fingers with impatience.

The three droids shared weird looks, but Nau’ul finally handed him the object.

Din turned around the metal item and as soon as he did, he recognised the beskar. Brows knitting, he inspected the grooves and quickly identified them as astromeridian lines. This was not a simple object; it was a Jedi star compass. Confused as to how this came to be in the possession of Nau’ul, Din unclasped the compass and lifted the lid.

His breathing hitched and his heart skipped a beat. This was not any star compass; this was the star compass. One that all Mandalorians believed to be a myth. But the black plasma in the lodestone didn’t lie. In his hand he was holding the very same star compass that Tarre Vizsla had commissioned to keep track of the Darksaber in case it ever got stolen.

“Where did you get this?” he snapped, fingers clutching the device tight.

“I― Well, it’s complicated. I thought―”

“It’s hers, isn’t it?” he interrupted.

The memory of that day trip to your ship came back to him. A locket, you had said. Bullshit.

Nau’ul nodded.

“How long have you had this?”

“Weeks, Alor. I did recognise it from the lore I knew about House Vizsla, but we didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. She’s doing you good, Master, you’ve improved―”

“Unnecessarily? Are you for fucking real, Nau’ul?” Din replied angrily, teeth gritting.

Without expecting an answer, he turned around and stormed out of the room.

You were kneeling on the ground, elbow’s deep in the core of your old R3-D3 unit, trying to reach a hidden screw, when you heard heavy steps approaching.

“Good you’re here, I can’t get to this screw. I’ve been at it for five minutes now. Can you try?” you asked Din, who stopped inches away from your back.

When he didn’t say a word, you turned around and glanced up at him.

He radiated tension through every pore, his posture stiff and shoulders squared. Eyebrows furrowed, you got up, cleaning the palm of your hands on your trousers.

“What’s the matter, Din?”

“This. Why did you have this?” his voice transpired how mad he felt as he handed you an object you quickly recognised.

The star compass that Nau’ul had confiscated from you weeks ago. You had assumed the droid didn’t know what it was and hadn’t bothered to show it to Din.

Your eyes shot up to where you knew his were.

“I can explain,” you reached for him, your fingers wrapping around his forearm.

“You better start talking now,” even if he hadn’t backed away from you, he felt so distant.

Your mind raced and your heart galloped inside your chest. You could lie your way out of this situation, but you didn’t want to. You loved him, and nothing else mattered. He would understand. Eventually.

“Din, listen to me, please. I’m not gonna lie to you: it is exactly what it looks like. My family, my tribe― we are trackers. Have been tracking the Darksaber for generations. I was raised to hate your people, but the message never really sunk in for me. Our purpose was to find the Darksaber and destroy it,” you explained while he remained deadly silent. “That was why I was travelling through the Mandalore system. I was tracking the Darksaber. I was going to Concordia, but I ran into technical problems with my X-wing and had to divert here. I think― I thought it was there.”

Until that night you sneaked out to the west wing. You had been caught before you could confirm your suspicions but were pretty sure that was what Din was hiding in the west wing. The reason he wouldn’t let you be anywhere nearby.

“But now you know it’s not in Concordia,” he finished for you.

You nodded.

“But I don’t care for it anymore, Din. Once I figured you likely had it, I made a choice. I chose you,” you whispered, closing in on him until your bodies met. “You have to believe me.”

He didn’t talk at all. Silence strung between you, dense and worrying, like a rope wrapping around your neck, forcing the oxygen out of your lungs. You didn’t want to panic, knowing that Din probably only needed time to think, to digest and ruminate.

Minutes went by and your grip on his forearm loosened. You were ready to take a step back, give him some space to process, when Din finally spoke in his modulated voice.

“I believe you,” a wave of relief washed over you, “and I choose you too.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach and then climbed up your oesophagus. It was beating so hard, so fast, you were seconds away from passing out.

He chose you.

Before you could throw your arms around his neck with pure elation, Din took a step back and one hand reached towards the back of his belt. Confused, you followed the movement of his hand, a deep wrinkle burrowing between your brows.

Din presented you a black hilt, waved it a little, and then the black and white blade appeared, humming very loudly, although dimmer than what you expected. Your eyes widened at the sight of the Darksaber ― the item your whole family had been searching for, right there, in front of you, an inch away from your fingers.

Lifting your right hand, you reached for it.

Suddenly, a firing sound broke the silence and, inexplicably, Din leaned forward towards you, the Darksaber dropping from his hand.

You held him by the elbows, not understanding what was happening, as his hands grasped for you. Then a second firing noise uprooted a painful groan from him while he almost dragged you to the floor.

“Din? Din!” you whispered, on your knees with him in your arms, as your hands roamed his body.

You felt the warm blood before you could see it and panic settled in fast. He was profusely bleeding from two gunshots on his back, right below the beskar piece that covered his six.

“No, no. Wait. What―” you sobbed as Din groaned, his consciousness drifting away.

You were losing him fast, and you didn’t even know how.

“Are you okay? Is he dead?”

A male voice came from behind a tree near the cliff. A voice you had not heard in a long while, but quickly recognised.

Ashton.

Blaster still pointing at Din, Ash had frozen several meters away from you. What was he doing here? How did he get here unnoticed? Why? Fucking why?

But none of those questions left your mouth, gutted as you were, holding onto Din, worried he would slip away from you. You couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, overwhelmed as you were.

Din stirred in your arms, and you saw the panic reflected in Ash’s eyes as he cocked the blaster in Din’s direction again. There was no time to think, to beg, to ask him to leave. To tell him you loved the man he was intent on killing.

So you did the only thing you could do. Your fingers found Din’s blaster in his holster, lifted it up, pointed to Ash, and shot.

The light beam flashed before it hit dead center between Ash’s eyes. He stumbled back and fell into the abyss behind him. And just like that, you had killed the only friend you had known.

You should have doubted your actions, but you didn’t. It all happened too quickly, and you had bigger worries than having killed one of the few people you cared about. Like losing the love of your life.

Dropping the blaster, you rushed to remove Din’s helmet.

“Din, please, just hold on. Please, stay with me. Please, don’t leave,” you screamed and cried, hands trembling and pressing on the wounds on his back.

His eyes fluttered open, only a tiny slit ― his gloved hand reached up, cradling your cheek.

“Cyar’ika,” he could barely talk. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum (I love you). Don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“No, no. NO. You ain’t saying goodbye. No,” your words slurred as your sobs intensified, your heart breaking into a myriad of tiny pieces.

You removed the glove of his hand to kiss the palm, your tears streaming between his fingers. Yours wrapped around his wrist, holding him there.

As you cried your eyes out, you noticed the Darksaber humming louder, almost deafening, and its light shining brighter. Its vibration called you, hearing your name inside your head. A Force deep within you awakening, beckoning you to touch it. A need as basic as breathing.

Through teary eyes, blinking fast, you gave in ― you grabbed it.

An electrifying sensation ran through you, all your muscles coiling at once. Your mind spiralled out of control, for a moment losing track of time and space. The Force was so intense, so primitive, you thought you would be obliterated by its magnitude.

When you could finally open your eyes, the blade had dimmed considerably and then it completely snuffed out. Your cries had not stopped though, so loud you almost missed Din’s voice.

“Mesh’la,” he rasped, trying to straighten his back, “you― you’re Force sensitive. You’ve used the Force of the Darksaber to heal me.”

Your wet eyes darted to him and then his wounds. Or where the wounds had been but no longer existed. Mouthing a gulp of air, you instantly dropped the Darksaber to hug him tight, crying louder than before.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. We’re okay,” he hushed, comforting you.

“I love you, Din,” you mumbled in the crook of his neck, relief running through you loosening your taut muscles. “Don’t you fucking dare die on me again or I’ll kill you myself.”

Din chuckled, one hand smoothing out your hair.

“Noted, cyar’ika.”

Cradling his handsome face, you pressed a kiss to his lips. Salty yet sweet. You kissed him again, looking for the solace of his tongue.

The wind carried some words you barely made out.

“Maker met.”

Four full moons had come and gone, and the beast was no more.

Din’s curse was broken. For good. Forever.

You couldn’t have asked for anything else. Anyone else. You loved him and he loved you back ― he had shown you many times. Right as he was showing you now.

Your lips brushed his tummy right above his belly button, leaving a trail of kisses as you found your way back to his mouth. Din was laying on his back, his rough hands caressing the back of your thighs as you kissed his scar and then his right eye, lips soft as a cloud.

He didn’t flinch anymore whenever you touched the sensitive skin or his blind eye. Instead, he sighed, as if your caress was soothing, calming. As if you could take away the pain he felt sometimes.

You sat back up on top of him, straddling his hips as his mushroom head hitched in your entrance, his hands compelling you to impale yourself. But you didn’t ― not yet.

Instead, you leaned over a bit, taking the helmet off the nightstand. It was heavy. Curious to know what it felt like, you put it on. The padding inside was soft, your face snug. It was slightly claustrophobic, but also comforting. Weird.

“It suits you, cyar’ika. You should consider taking up the Creed,” he mumbled, eyes full of desire, of yearning. Of love.

You chuckled and stirred your hips above him, the tip of his cock going in ever so smoothly.

“For you, I just might, Din.”

@baronessvonglitter @bishtrouille @natalieispunk @iknowisoundcrazy @almostfoxglove

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ʟᴜᴄᴇʀʏ'ꜱ Qᴜᴀʀʀᴇʟ ᴀᴛ ᴅʀɪꜰᴛᴍᴀʀᴋ. ʟᴀᴅʏ ʀʜᴀᴇʟʟᴀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴀꜱ ꜱʜᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜᴇꜱ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴛᴀᴍᴇᴅ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴠᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ.

Warnings: Aegon being Aegon, Canon events surrounding Aemond's 13th birthday, and the Madame (no explicit details.)

129 AC

The ocean water is warm today. It foams up as it crashes onto the shore where she stands barefooted. Today is a day full of uncertainties and untameable nerves. Today is the day she wil claim a dragon. 

“You will become sick standing in the sea like that.” Jace says

"The ocean is warmer here on Dragonstone than on Driftmark." Rhaella says, dismissing his concerns.

"Are you excited?" He asks, standing beside her, letting the ocean wash over his boots.

"I am nervous. Sona has never been claimed before." She sighs

"I am sure you will be able to do it," Jace assures her

"That is easy for you to say, Vermax hatched while you were still a babe." She sighs

"All true Targrayens are dragon riders. I will not see one of my children remain dragonless."

Rhaella whips around to see Daemon approaching. He is relentless in his father-daughter bonding attempts.

"Jacaerys, your mother wishes to see you." Daemon says

Rhaella ignores how he stands next to her after her cousin has left the beach. Waves crash against rocks as her eyes remain fixed on the horizon.

"This silent treatment is becoming old. You are ten and four, you're no longer a child." He reminds her

"What does Rhaena think of me doing this?" She asks, ignoring his comment, "Of me trying to claim a dragon before her?"

"Her thoughts are not important....Sona has rejected her attempts before." Daemon says, "This dragon is for you, Rhaella, no one else."

Daemon's words are touching. Their relationship is still a rocky one though. The past three years have been spent with him flying between Dragonstone and Driftmark. After his marriage to Rhaenrya she had expected that he'd abandon her, Baela and Rhaena. And yet, every few weeks he'd show up on the shore with Caraxes at his side. He'd spend time with her younger sisters and then come barging into her room as though he owned the entire castle. It had taken many moons for them to have a fully civil conversation devoid of yelling and rude comments but eventually, they formed a sort of friendship. That of course did not mean they got along, just that she had come to tolerate him since he seemed intent on not leaving her life.

"The Dragonkeepers say that it is best to approach Sōna now. She enjoys afternoon naps and will become angry if we disturb her later in the day." Daemon says

Sōna's lair is darker than any night sky Rhaella has ever seen. Water drips from somewhere as she points the torch in front of her, trying to see where the dragon might be. Gods, she hoped she was not about to be eaten.

Another 50 paces into the cave and Rhaella is beginning to think the Dragonkeepers have lied about this dragon existing at all. The dampness of the cave is beginning to seep into her bones, she swears every hair on her body has stood up on alert.

And then there is a glitter of white meeting her eyes, the fire that barely illuminates a few steps in front of her has reached something magnificent.

Sōna's brilliant blue eyes are staring at her. Rhaella is looking into the eyes of a dragon. A shiver snakes through her body as she maintains eye contact and slowly drops the torch.

"Zaldrīzes rȳbus, lo mērī udrirzi Valyrio eglio ȳdrassua"

Daemon's last words before she had entered this lair echo in her mind.

A dragon only listens if you speak in High Valyrian.

She finds herself unsure of what to do now, so she speaks and prays to every god there is that this beast does not open her mouth to burn her alive.

"Iksā gevie." She says slowly, "Eman dreamed hen ao syt ñuha giez ābrar.

You are beautiful. I have dreamed of you for my whole life.

Sōna lets out a deep rumble and Rhaella is unsure about the dragon's thoughts on her compliment.

She slowly begins to move towards the side of Sōna's head. The dragon lets out another grumble as she draws close.

"lykirī. Iksan daor kesīr naejot ōdrikagon ao."

Calm down. I am not here to hurt you.

Rhaella's heartbeat pounds in her ears as her hand touches Sona's rough skin.

"Kesi sagon rōvēgrie raqirossa, Sōna. Mazeminna care hen ao lo ao ivestragī nyke claim ao"

We will be great friends, Sōna. I will take care of you if you let me claim you.

Rhaella gently runs her bare hand along Sōna's jawline. The dragon lets out a sharp sound, almost like a trill of sorts. Rhaella smiles as Sōna lets her continue. Has she truly done it? Has she truly claimed a dragon of her own?

Sōna lets out another gurgle before pushing her head further into Rhaella's waiting arms.

"Sir iksi hēnkirī ēva morghon ñuha riña. Nyke kivio naejot gaomagon ao ȳgha"

Now we are together until death, my girl. I promise to keep you safe.

Her voice is no more than a whisper into the cave but the dragon hears it all the same. Rhaella cannot help the wide smile that stretches across her face when her dragon lets out a noise of agreement.

"The winter snow reaches out and claims a woman. Black banners rise behind them. Green rises to meet the snow."

Aemond is unsure what to make of his sister's words. He had come to her room to play with his little niece and nephew who are learning how to stand on their own. They babble with happiness when he shakes a wooden dragon in their faces.

"The snow will meet green over fields of fire and blood," Heleana says, not bothering to look up from her needlework.

"They are growing quickly." Aemond says, hoping to turn the conversation to something more lucid and interesting for him

"They eat often. The boy more than the girl." Heleana says to him

"You will sit the Iron Throne one day, Jaehaerys," Aemond says to the baby who grabs at his hand and attempts to place it in his mouth

Aemond smiles down at his nephew and niece, they are two of the few living beings in this castle that do not fear him.

The castle is bustling with life, as it often does during the day. Maids scurry about, cleaning, and rat catchers lead their dogs about the halls. The feel of his practice sword in its sheath is a familiar one as he makes his way toward where Cole awaits him in the training grounds. Normally he'd try to rouse Aegon from his sleep but it had been weeks since he had successfully dragged his older brother from bed to train.

The clashing of steel is better than any music he's heard as Cole points out how to hold his arms in a way that keeps the sword from being knocked from his hands.

Aemond takes note of how he is rapidly approaching his teacher's height. The top of his head is finally in line with Cole's eyes, just a few more years and he is sure he will outgrow him, after all, he is already a bit taller than Aegon.

"Have you heard the news?" Cole asks in between sips of water from a large flagon that sits nearby.

"What news?" Aemond asks, not recalling anything his mother might have told him this morning at breakfast.

"Word from Dragonstone to the king. Rhaella Targaryen has claimed a dragon." Cole says, "Queen Alicent read it this morning to his grace."

Rhaella had a dragon? Aemond wondered what dragon she might've claimed. He knew there were many unclaimed ones on Dragonstone. He tried to imagine the delicate Rhaella on the back of a beast like Vermithor. It was rather humorous in his mind.

"What dragon has she taken?" Aemond asked

"Your uncle conveniently left that out, my prince," Cole said

Of course, Daemon would leave that out. Aemond had wondered what changed between Rhaella and Daemon. The last time he had spoken to Rhaella she had been deadset on pretending he didn't exist and now he was helping her claim some unnamed dragon. Maybe he ought to write her again. Things had been tense when he hugged her goodbye on Driftmark's shores. Her nose had still been swollen from his punch, which he regrettably had yet to apologize for.

For the first year, they had exchanged many letters, talking of mundane things such as Rhaella's struggle with holding swords upright during her training with the Master of Arms at Driftmark. And how he had discovered that growing up also meant being forced to stand still for measurements to be taken regularly as he was outgrowing all his favorite clothes. Eventually, though, the letters became less frequent and one day stopped entirely. His mother said it was part of growing up and that it was all for the best since she was "separate" from their family. Aemond tried to believe her, he truly did, but at night when he lay in his bed he found himself missing Rhaella's companionship.

"Shall we continue?" Cole asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

Aegon could not believe he left his chamber for this. Surely his bed and cups of wine were better than all of this.

"It is your brother's name day, try to look presentable." His mother had hissed in his ears when she pulled him down the many steps of the Red Keep.

Aegon did not care about Aemond's name day. Why should he care if his brother was ten and three? Aemond was going to have a thousand name days, Aegon didn't see why he should bother himself to be at all of them.

He still could barely believe his Lord Father had been able to plan and attend this family dinner. Viserys had sent the invitations himself, apparently wishing for his family to gather for Aemond's name day. Aegon still thought it was a dull idea.

His eyes scan the dinner table and they land on Princess Rhaenys, or more specifically who was next to her. His Uncle Daemon's three daughters, loud-mouthed as they were, had grown, Aemond's friend most of all. That blue silk dress of hers was doing nothing to hide the curves Aeggon could practically taste from across the table.

"Stop your staring." His...dear Grandsire said, sending a kick to Aegon's shin under the table

Aegon knows he is dense, but even he does not miss they way Aemond's eyes...or well eye...remain fixed on Rhaella through the night. Perhaps he has underestimated his little brother, maybe there is more to him than books and sword training with Cole. Perhaps this was finally a chance for Aegon to introduce Aemond to true fun.

He can feel the smirk stretch across his face as he plans their evening in his mind. Yes, it was finally time to bring Aemond into his world, to show him what other fun there was to be had.

Rhaella has never felt more awkward. When Rhaenys had announced that they would attend a dinner for Aemond's name day at the request of King Viserys, she wished she could be like Lord Corlys, and simply declare she would not go. It was not that she did not want to see Aemond, she just felt distant from him.Perhaps it was the lack of apology for her face or maybe it was the three years that passed since she had chosen Driftmark over him. She swore he was still upset about all of that.

Aemond's eye had been on her the whole night, Rhaella couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing.

When they had first arrived, Rhaella had sought him out, perhaps it was just a force of habit but she had found herself at his door. When she peered in, she had expected Aemond to look the way he did when she said goodbye to him on the shore of Driftmark, a snot-nosed, one-eyed boy who was begging her to get on the ship or climb aboard his new dragon with him. Instead, she saw an entirely different person. He was sat with a large book. His newly broken voice had filled her ears, he was practicing his Valyrian. His hair was just past his shoulders and Rhaella could tell he had grown significantly in their time apart, surely he was taller than her now. What stuck out to her the most though was his face, it had sharpened and become rather handsome, most of all though, a gleaming sapphire sat where his missing eye used to be.

She wasn't sure why but she slipped away, not bothering to alert him of her presence. Maybe his new appearance had startled her, or hypnotized her, she truly was unsure of it all.

After dinner had concluded, Rhaella tried slipping away, perhaps she'd visit the library, the castle's library had always been far superior to Driftmark's.

"Are you scared of me?"

A foreign voice fills her ears just as she reaches the doors to the library.

"Aemond." She breathes when she turns to face him, his sapphire eye is now covered with a dark leather eyepatch, "Were you following me?"

She did not hear any footsteps but that did not mean it was impossible.

"You did not look at me once during dinner. Nor did you visit when you arrived yesterday. You are avoiding me." He said, his voice had a twinge in it, like his feelings were hurt.

When did he get so observant and bold?

"I was not avoiding you, Aemond." Rhaella said, looking at him.

"Then why leave dinner so quickly, you ran as tough your hair was on fire." He jests

"You..." She decides it is best to be honest with him, "You are making me nervous."

Aemond lets out a snort of laughter.

"Why? Does my appearance frighten you?" He asks, stepping closer to her so they were only an arms length away

"No! No. It is just...different. I was expecting the same boy who cried after I told him that I'd remain in Driftmark. You have grown up, that is all." She explained honestly

"As have you. You are ten and four now, yes?" He asked

"Yes." She said

It was uncanny how he was taller than her now, truly unfair considering he was still younger than her.

"Aemond!"

What did she do to the gods that they were cursing her with Aegon's presence?

"Aemond! Come, the festivities are not over." Aegon declared, wrapping an arm around Aemond's shoulders.

"Hello, Aegon." She greeted

"Yes, hello." Aegon greeted, his eyes briefly scanning her up and down.

"Where are we going? Mother and father have both gone to bed." Aemond asked, confused.

"I am going to show you the world, little brother," Aegon said

Rhaella thought that was a stupid sentence. It sounded like something out of a bad romance story.

"Might we bring Rhaella? I want to speak to her more." Aemond asked

"No." Aegon said immediately

Rhaella glared at him, how dare he say where she could and could not go?

"It is for men only. You are a man now, little brother, or well you will be by the end of the night." Aegon laughed "Come, we're going now."

Rhaella watched as Aegon walked off.

"I am sure he is just taking me to some tavern he likes. It isn't for noble ladies though." Aemond said

"How long will you be gone?" Rhaella asked, suddenly sad that he wasn't going to stay with her.

"Not long. Wait in the library, I'll come to you when we're done." Aemond said before turning, "I want you to tell me about the dragon you have claimed."

Rhaella smiled as she watched Aemond race after his brother, perhaps appearances had changed but he was still the boy she knew, even though years had passed.

Aemond has never felt more unsure of himself. He has spent the last three years creating a person that is untouchable, devoid of weaknesses, and yet his hands are shaking and his mind is racing. Despite the late hour, he sits in a bath that he ordered a maid to draw for him. The soap and soft rag are rubbing his skin raw as he tries to rid himself of the whore's sickly sweet perfume.

Aegon's laughter was ringing in his ears. The way his elder brother had laughed and pointed as her hands had run down his body. She had been soft and warm yet Aemond had not enjoyed any of it. His skin felt like it was crawling when it had ended. Why did Aegon enjoy doing that regularly? Surely acts like that were not worth dedicating entire establishments to.

His hair is sticking to his neck as he sits in the water. Perhaps if he sits here long enough he will be washed away and the memories of tonight will fall away as well. His eye squeezes shut when he recalls the way her voice had sounded in his ears, loud and wonton, almost like the sound of a dying animal.

Fuck. He wished he could take it all back, he should've ignored his brother and just gone to bed, then all would be right and he wouldn't wish to peel his skin from his bones. His skin is red by the time he is done with it all. Surely he has removed the layer that her hands were all over.

He feels dizzy as he forces himself out of the comfort of the bath. He thinks of Rhaella, surely she is not waiting for him still.

Once he is dressed though, his legs lead him to the library anyway. Maybe he is just seeking comfort in familiarity but all he knows is for once in his life, he is not alright with being alone. The library is silent, and very dark when he enters. He nearly turns back to return to his own chamber when a pale flicker of light catches his eye.

A stump of a candle is all that illuminates the scene he finds her in. Her head is resting in her arms as half her body is resting on the table. Her nose is whistling ever so slightly as she sleeps. He quietly sits down next to her, just her presence is enough to calm his racing mind. Her long hair is free from its usual braids and tumbles down her shoulders. It is softer than it looks as he wraps a strand around his finger. His eye examines her face that is just barely illuminated by the candle. Her features had sharpened, just like his had the past three years and Aemond cannot deny that it suits her. Her familiar scent invades his nose as he rests his head on the table to stare at her, he smiles as he thinks of her waking to find him next to her.

"Gevī"

Beautiful

And so we dig into the romance of the story...

Sorry if the Valyrian is wrong, obviously I'm not fluent in it and I used an online translator for this story.

By the way, Sōna means snow in Valyrian. ;)

Next Part

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[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

Crazy Over You x Min Yoongi

[HYBRID AU]

PART FIVE

Bitter taste, Jealousy and bites.

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Bunny Hybrid, Hoseok/assistant.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior.

Word count: 8.5k

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

< Previously Next Chapter >

……….

Everything went smoothly afterwards, by that would mean nothing eventful happened but things still needed more time to heal. I took Yoongi back to his mating room once the exams were done, after that he seemed tired and didn’t question much once we were there. I never seen him so exhausted before, the entire time he was going under the exams he looked nervous and I worried that it might have something to do with his past. He didn’t say anything till we got to his room and even after that he kept quiet.

I didn’t know what would happen to him now that he was free from Jin’s father, but it was a relief to know he wouldn’t have to put up with extreme tests anymore, he deserved that freedom and i knew he would have more rest from now on. Although i was happy for Yoongi i also couldn’t help but worry about the new hybrid Jin mentioned before, I was afraid he might end up like Yoongi did on his fathers hand, even now that Yoongi was some what free from him I couldn’t help but feel like things weren’t completely over.

I dedicated so many years of my life to this clinic, believing in Jin’s father as the director of this sanctuary a place were hybrids had a chance to make the rest of their lives better, a place where they could heal from their past and recover from their traumas. When I heard about Yoongis past I felt the ground under me fall, at first I couldn’t believe such happened here out of all places and everything we’ve done to help the hybrids. The truth was much harsh then I wanted to believe and I couldn’t help but worry more and more for the hybrids at the clinic, what if it Yoongi wasn’t the only one? What if there were more cases like this still happening?

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if this carry on happening, I’ve taken care of hybrids for so many years they are beings just like us and deserve to be treated fairly. Yet things like this still happen, it wasn’t of my nature to simply let things go as much as I have to focus on Yoongis situation for now, I wouldn’t let things slide that easily. Jin’s father doesn’t deserve to be the director of the clinic, I understand Jin and how hard it must be for him now especially since his own father it’s solid problem here but that doesn’t mean his dad can make those decisions without being held accountable for it, we manage to free Yoongi only because coincidentally another hybrid was there to take his place, what Yoongi went through could still happen to another hybrid and that wasn’t something i wanted to happen and I wouldn’t let it happen.

I made sure Yoongi was left resting and seeing as he went straight to sleep after getting in his room I knew I could leave and he would be fine for now. This week has been very stressful for Yoongi and I kept thinking if rushing with the exams on him wasn’t pushing him too much at this point, from the outside one seemed to be doing much better now but looks could lie when it came to your health and I worried for him more and more. All this time hes been under experiments cold have done some real damage to his body and we had to make sure he was fine - I had to know if he was fine.

Once I got in the small computer room I’m meet with Jin’s figure standing beside one of the assistants who sat on the chair while showing Jin the exams results, this would be my last stop for tonight it was already way past my work time and I had been in the clinic for the entire day to make sure Yoongi was fine after everything that happened. So much had happen today and my body was begging to go home now. I could feel the tiredness at every muscle.

- y/n come look at this - said Jin, once he notice my presence as I approached them.

As I stood beside him I looked up at the exams shown on the screens in front of me, there were two screens in which one showed Yoongis vitals in the moment the exam were taken and the other was a full body image scan from his internal structure and every muscle on his body.

- how is he? - I asked checking the screens.

- he is fine from what we can tell from the results - said the assistant whose name on the badge on his coat said “Jake” while looking up at me and Jin - he does not have any fractures or internal bruises.

- that’s good to know…

- although y/n, i think you should talk to him - Jin added, his eyes stared into mine with worry in that moment.

- why? - i asked noticing the look he shared with the assistant.

- tell her what you said to me - Jin leaned against the table crossing his arms over his chest.

Something seemed to be wrong and I knew it in that moment when Jin turned his gaze away from mine, worry began to boil over every cell on my body. Yoongi didn’t seemed to be okay the whole time during the exam and now that Jin has been acting strangely, I felt even more uneasy.

- well, if you look here y/n… - the assistant Jake said, pointing at the screen in front of him showing Yoongis body scan - you see this red waves of light on his body?

The screen showed Yoongis thermal image scan, commonly used to detect any differences or slight changes on the hybrids health since infrared emissions from a body are directly related to their temperature. From the looks of it his body seems to be emitting more heat then a normal hybrids should, I’ve never seen anything like that before.

- his body temperature seems pretty high, could it be fever? - I asked.

- in this case not exactly, you see the hints of pink around him? - i only nodded to him as he continued explaining, still not understanding what he meant with all that - this kind of waves are hormones and from the looks of it they kept coming back and forth bigger, in this scale it means the hybrid is under heat.

- what? - I exclaimed.

- i felt skeptical at first too, since you mentioned that he has no heat - Jin added, turning to look at me - but the exams tell otherwise.

- behavior exams would have to be taken if you want to make sure of it but, it is very clear in the scan that he is in heat - the assistant Jake affirmed.

- I understand… its just, why would he lie about it? - i held my forehead in contemplation, walking to the other side of the room I didn’t know what to do in this moment and as i turned to Jin feeling as lost as he seemed i knew were complicated now.

- maybe he.. he was trying to delay the mating process - Jin muttered.

I didn’t know how to feel in that moment, it was much clear that Yoongi has been lying this entire time about his heat and I couldn’t deny any of it. I was disappointed to know he’s been hiding that from me all this time, i felt a little betrayed even but I couldn’t blame him for hiding it from me as much as i hated to admit, Yoongi has been through a lot is natural that he wouldn’t trust so easily. The fact that he has been hiding his thought meant we couldn’t hold the proper care for him, he could be in much discomfort if not taken care of too.

I kept thinking about Jin’s words for the rest of the night, Yoongi had good reason for trying to delay the procedures since he’s been through much worst and i wondered if he thought it wasn’t just a get away to hurt him and for that reason he tried to delay the process, It was great to know that Yoongi was perfectly fine after all that hes been through but the fact that he was hiding from me his heat this whole time made me uneasy. It meant i was completely wrong this whole time about him, I couldn’t help but feel like a failed to notice something so crucial this whole time. I should’ve know it before anyone since i was the closest to him and now his actions so far had a complete different meaning especially since i knew the truth now.

Later as me and Jin were exiting the clinic he made sure to assure me he would be taking care of Yoongi tomorrow since i wasn’t going to be present, while telling me to rest for the big day on Monday we said our goodbyes.

My body was completely exhausted, once i got home all i could do was fall over the sofa tiredly and contemplate todays events even though all I wanted was to rest different from my body my mind simply couldn’t turn off. I couldn’t stop thinking about Yoongi, replying all of his behaviors in my head collecting every piece to put together the puzzle I didn’t when i was with him in the clinic. The more i thought about it the more guilty i felt, it was clear from the moment i saw him for the first time and yet it went right past me. I had been working with hybrids for so long that something like this shouldn’t go unnoticed by a doctor, i simply ignored all of the signals. Feeling even more embarrassed i had let myself wonder to the point i let him bite me and do even more after - why on earth would he do that if not from being under heat? - Yoongi wasn’t heaving bad side effects from the heat stimulants when he acted out and attacked someone, it was clear to me since he was actually in heat but I couldn’t picture why he acted that way to someone, if the heat stimulants were effecting him this whole time it would explain why he felt attracted to me - i still couldn’t understand why he would attack someone and i kept rethinking again and everything but nothing came to mind.

What was i suppose to do with this information now? Yoongi could be lying about more things to me and I wouldn’t even know. Jin did advise me into talking to him about it but how can I believe now?

As angry as i was with him now, i know he didn’t do it on purpose. He must have a reason for hiding things about himself, as Jin mentioned he must be trying to delay the mating process but I couldn’t help thinking there was more to it then it shows. I can’t blame him for that even if it makes me angry, i too am lying and hiding things from him - after all he was the victim here not me.

I still can’t believe how messy my emotions have become ever since i meet him, the more time i spent with him the more he captivated me in ways i never thought were possible. I never once felt this way about a hybrid before, it was never a problem treating them until a meet Yoongi. The snake hybrid i never even though to meet once was now under my care, more then that i manage to break the rules of the clinic because of him and the more I told myself I wouldn’t cross those lines again i simple failed miserably.

Looking back now i don’t really know what about him that makes my body burn in the best way possible but every time i was with him it felt like every cell on my body wanted to be close to him. I didn’t wanted to cross that line again if it meant hurting him.

i just had to do the right thing for now.

For the both of us.

[…]

Sunday went by so fast I didn’t really got much rest. I bearly had any sleep last night, kept thinking about Yoongi and an unsettling feeling was boiling up inside me the more i thought about today. Meeting Yoongi today shouldn’t be so hard after all i was his doctor but we crossed that line so many times our relationship was anything but a normal doctor and patient type of relationship anymore. I didn’t know were to stand in this i know i didn’t stoped myself from going over the lines and that led to the moment i was most afraid of, my emotions were everywhere torn into pieces and spread all over the floor. It felt like i was sinking alone in a boat. All my fear were washed away from my mind as soon as it as with Yoongi, everything made sense to me but as soon as i left his room I’m once again alone in that boat.

Trying to ignore those feelings were useless now, I can’t hide from him how i feel. I’ve been trying miserably to do that and it only got us both hurt, i wanted to tell him everything but that meant Alison telling him the truth about this whole process to begin with. It was selfish of me to think of that, what would he think of me once i tell him? I certainly don’t expect a hug from him, he would probably hate me. After everything i felt like I owed him the truth, he must think I’m playing with his feelings and since he is in heat all his senses were in a much higher frequency. To distract myself from the nervous feeling that runs down my whole body, i tried to think about my tasks for the day ahead of me useless as his lies were still stuck in my head.

The whole night i kept rethinking about the incident that led him into bitting another coworker at the clinic, I was afraid he hurt someone without a reason now that i knew he was hiding his heat and more than anything i feared it was because of me.

Hybrids in heat can get very dangerous sometimes, their instincts are at maximum speed going beyond any rational thought. If taken too lightly it can end up very messy - i took it much lightly that time by ignoring clear sings of heat all because it came from Yoongi - all this time I’ve been so caught up in my feelings for him I didn’t notice how much that would cost me. I’ve never had that problem before but Yoongi just had that hypnotic aura around him I didn’t even notice when it was too late. Questioning even more my capabilities as his doctor, maybe it was best if i took some time out of this.

I keep getting distracted by him every time I’m with him and that is costing us too much, maybe I’m not the right person to do this as Jin had believed. Certainly falling in love with his patient didn’t include in that faith.

The more that creeped into my mind the more stressed i felt, since today was the first step for the mating process i was already making my way to Yoongis mating room to encounter Jin there and from then carry on a quick check up on Yoongi before anything happens, the hybrids would meet for the first time today and all i could think about was the unsettling feeling inside my stomach.

While being free from the directors claws Yoongi would still proceed with the mating since Jin decided that carry on the mating process would be more beneficial for the hybrids as they would be able to meet someone just like themselves for the first time and have the opportunity to engage on their journey together. Now that we found out about Yoongis heat as well Jin thought it would be much better for him since things were escalating faster then he thought.

Hybrids have the natural need of a mate, it is more then sexual desire but a connection they can count on and protect. Hybrids without a mate often end up in severe depression and in very rare cases they might die of loneliness.

The importance of the mating process goes beyond continuing the species.

As I’m making my way through the white corridors of the seventh floor to Yoongis mating room I find Jin also going in the same direction, his attention fully on the papers he had at hands. I quickly matched up with him finally getting his reaction to my presence.

He gave me a small smile before turning to look ahead of us as we got closer to Yoongis room.

- how are you feeling about today? - he asks.

- nervous but.. excited for Yoongi - i tell him, trying my best to ignore the bitterness under my tongue.

- me too, i truly hope this goes well for him - he added, before signaling towards the door for Yoongis room.

I quickly made my way to opened for us inserting the code for it on the digital screen beside the door, it made a sound before opening completely and i walked in before Jin.

The lights were on a warmer tone then usual and the room temperature seemed more humid this time, aware of Yoongis presence lying down on his bed almost fully covered on the messy sheets of his nest if not for his dark hair you could bearly tell he was there, at out noisy entire he slowly began to get up. The view of his full figured instantly making my heart beat faster from both nervous and eagerness at the same time. Once I heard the sound of the door closing behind me as Jin took place beside me giving me a small smile of encouragement and I took a few breaths before approaching Yoongi on his bed as he slowly sit up staring at both Jin and i.

- hey Yoongi, i came to check your skin today, mind if i do? - i ask him softly, his eyes went from Jin to me before tiredly nodding.

It felt much different seeing him now I didn’t want to make this uncomfortable but something already felt wrong when i saw him today. It just seemed like the Yoongi i knew before wasn’t here anymore, i know it was him right there but something about him was different. Maybe it was just me and my point of view from him had changed since the exams came proving about his heat, all my internal monologues about his behavior and the fact that there was much more that he was hiding.

I can’t just make him tell me everything and that wasn’t what I wanted, what I wanted was for him to trust me but that wasn’t something you could force. It just bothers me how he didn’t trust me yet when I had all those feelings for him boiling inside me to the point i could feel the bitterness at the tip of my throat.

I watched as Yoongi got up not saying anything as he unbuttoned his white shirt to expose his scales, walking closer to me stopping a feet away in front of me while he did so. Aware of how he kept looking behind me at Jin, i could only wonder why he seemed to be so concerned about his presence every time he was around but, now that i know the truth about Jin’s father i can only assume is because he knows Jin’s the son of the men who did this to him.

Once he was done I started by examining the scales on his neck carefully moving the shirt away to enough uncover more of his skin, i was glad to see his neck scales seemed fine now moving on to the scales on his ribs the last time I checked them he had some deep scratches on them but now it seemed it had healed much more, Yoongi was recovering pretty fast that was good news at least.

I moved around him to check his back sliding the shirt down to expose the skin for my eyes, his back was the part we’re the most damage was done but now the marks of scratching were almost completely healed.

- your skin is in much better condition - i comment walking around to stand in front of him.

- that’s good to hear - Jin added, a smile on his face walking over to us to hand me Yoongis medicine.

- thanks Jin - i took the small container from his hands, ignoring the small mint our finger slightly brushed over each others.

Looking up to Yoongi as he seemed to sand daggers through his eyes at Jin, the tension was set in the room way before I had stared but now it was even thicker. Cleaning my throat to get his attention which worked as he now started into my eyes with his dark eye dark glossy ones.

- here this are supplements, you’ll take them for a while - i tell him while handing him the pills - since you just started eating again you’ll need this to help balance your diet.

He nodded taking the pills from my hand and swallowing them all at once.

- I’ll get you some water… - before i could take one step away from him he held my arm back, pulling me towards him.

- don’t need it - he murmured over my face, eyes looking for mine as I nervously looked anywhere but him.

It wasn’t too much but a single act could spike a different thought on Jin, i worried he would get things wrong or not so since it wasn’t a lie something was going on between me and Yoongi but now it wasn’t the time for that. His grip over my arm wasn’t too hard and that wasn’t what was making me even more nervous now, the fact that Jin was present there was. Usually Yoongi doesn’t go too far in front of someone else and it made me anxious that he had pulled me too close, the last thing i wanted was for anyone to find out about us. More especially, Jin.

- ok.. - i pushed him slightly away.

I didn’t know how to act in that moment, forcing myself to look up at Jin who just stood there looking at us questioning, he didn’t comment but I knew he catched something the moment our eyes met.

- just got a message from Namjoon he’s ready now, can we carry on? - Jin said.

I was thankful for the change of subject, if he would ask about it later I wasn’t so sure. Jin was more invested on Yoongis case now and from everything that has happened he wanted to get all the details from him to make sure we could treat him with anything he might need.

If Yoongi was showing signs of discomfort with someone we must separate them immediately and it is the opposite we need to know why to ensure his recovery. Being closed to people when you need to be taken care of is not the best scenario. I didn’t know if Jin was catching on it but I couldn’t bet on it to find out.

Yoongi was showing more signs of heat as his need for closure was growing more by now, i didn’t wanted to test how territorial he could get with Jin’s presence.

- oh, yes - I turned back to Yoongi - today is the first step of the mating process, we’ll introduce you to your… partner, soon she will be brought here is that okay with you?

We had everything set up already but asking him first was a safety measure, if one of the hybrids didn’t felt like they can go on to meet we need to cancel it immediately and then make sure they are able to carry on later.

He sighted loudly and then nodded, closing the buttons of his shirt impatiently.

It seemed I wasn’t the only bitter one about this. He wasn’t much happy about the mating from the moment he heard about it, I still didn’t know why thought. Yoongi was the first male hybrids I’ve ever treated who didn’t seem to want to mate, although the signs he needed that were clear and he could bearly hide them anymore, he kept his guard. In that thought I remember how he’s been lying about it, we still had much to talk about that but there wasn’t the right time for it so for now we just had to get over the first step of the mating process.

A grip on my hand made me stop on my tracks as I had turned to leave already, I looked over my shoulder seeing as Yoongi was standing right behind me. Turning completely to look at his face, his mouth opened and closed a few times and he looked down still holding my hand.

- are you going to watch this? - he murmured only for me to hear, his question catches me off guard, dark eyes looking behind me and I didn’t need to turn to know he was looking at the mirrored glass wall.

- I have to, is part of the process - i tell him honestly.

He nodded understanding, letting go of my hand. I give him a small smile before turning to leave.

Nothing much then both hybrids being introduced and having a time for themselves alone to get to know each other would happen now, although we didn’t know how Yoongi would react since his heat had already started. We don’t usually put hybrids in heat to mate but let them get to know each other before that happens to ensure their safety, since his case was very delicate we had no choice but to continue with the process.

Jin and I left his room as he massage Namjoon to confirm he could bring the female hybrid to the mating room, for the first steps of the mating process as their doctors we must watch over them as they meet for the first time and ensure they are okay while doing so. Anything could happen in that moment from good to worst case we should still be ready and prepared to assist the hybrids.

For that a small room was designed right beside his separate by the window, he couldn’t see us here only his own reflection.

Me and Jin quickly took our place there waiting for Namjoon to come, i could see Yoongi in the room through the glass window as he just stood there in the middle of his room were I had left him waiting.

Jin was walking from side to side looking at his phone from time to time he seemed nervous but excited at the same time, i wish i could share the same feeling but the more i waited for what was to happen the more bitterness seems to grow at the tip of my throat making me swallow hard multiple times.

It was so selfish of me to feel this way - I couldn’t only think of that - getting attached to a hybrid on this level wasn’t right especially for my position. I could only get hurt in the end. Yet here i stood, feeling my heart beating faster and faster as the minutes passed, stomach doing flips inside me.

The was the muffled sound of the door in the room opening but i didn’t look up, I was afraid to even look at it. Anxiously staring at floor instead, Jin moved beside me to get closer to the mirrored window thankfully not noticing my face. The sound of Namjoons voice on the other side of the wall filled the small room I was in as he entered the mating room with the female hybrid.

That was it, my heart clenches in my chest. Looking up finally to see his back turned to us as he faces Yoongi a few feet away from him and the presence of the female snake hybrid right beside Joon.

My eyes immediately turned to the female hybrid, it was the first time I saw her too the only thing I knew about here was that she wasn’t a black mamba like Yoongi but a python. No one knew if breeding two different snake species would work in their favor but snake hybrids were already difficult to find and there wasn’t much choice.

I could only see her from the back but I could tell she was much smaller then him, maybe a few inches shorter then me, she had long black hair that went down her hips and from the looks she had a very petit figure wearing the usual gray uniform from the clinic.

Namjoons voice filled my ears as he quickly introduced them to one another, none of the hybrids moving forward or saying anything as he speaks only. The introduction didn’t took much longer for my displeasure and once he was done with his he left the room, leaving both hybrids alone.

It seemed like the moment he closed that door to leave my insides were doing a roll back and forth like a roller coaster, all the air in my lungs were gone completely as i watched both hybrids through the glass wall, bottom lip harshly pressed against my teeth as if it would stop my stomach from doing flips.

They couldn’t see us here and i was glad, for once i felt like I would be able to hold my facial expressions as my whole world seemed to be falling apart. Voices deep down in my mind screaming even more, louder each time.

‘’you should be happy for him’’

‘’you don’t deserve him’’

‘’stop acting so selfish’’

I knew he would forget me completely once he meet the female hybrid, someone who’s just like him. She would be better to him then me, hybrids were made for each other not for humans. We were here to help them not use them, that hybrid would be able to complete him in a way I could never and can share with him the connection he needs. I should’ve knew better before, hybrids act on instinct completely when it comes to their heat. I should’ve know better before letting he take me in the bathtub, before he kissed me. I should’ve had set the lines between us, now is too late.

Watching as he was the first one to make a move and walk up to the female hybrid, heart clenching in my chest as he closed the distance between them completely, grabbing the female hybrids face to turn to the other side.

The air was punched out of my lungs at the sight of them, i wished i could just brushed it off and forget it already. But the sight of in front of me was the hard pill I had to swallow, specially once Yoongi leaves a lick over her cheek.

At that i found the strength to turn around, lucky for me no one notice my displeasure as i did so.

My bottom lip burned from biting to hard into it, the taste of blood wasn’t enough to cover the bitterness though. I didn’t wanted to look at it anymore, focusing on the white wall instead - so this is what is like to have your heart broken?

How can it even feel this bad?

From that point things happen much faster, like a rushed dream. I stared over Namjoon in front of me who was now watching both hybrids with a hard expression on his face, I couldn’t tell why as I didn’t have the strength to watch anymore.

- get out of here.

Yoongis mufled voice on the other side of the wall filled my ears, I felt a cold chill down my spine at the words. His voice was bitter full of displeasure, something I never heard before even when he clearly showed dislike towards the other doctor.

In that second Namjoons eyes turned to mine worried.

- we need to hurry there.

He didn’t have to say twice. I only nodded in agreement fallowing him out of the small room and rushing towards the mating room, something seemed to have desperately wrong while they were there. This was the reason why we had to stay by, anything can happen to the hybrids when they are alone.

The weight in my chest still present as i entered the mating room behind Namjoon and he didn’t hesitate to approach the female hybrid carefully, leading her out of there while muttering words of assurance to her.

I didn’t move at all, my feet wouldn’t let me and every time I looked at him that image popped in my mind but I shouldn’t just stand there this wasn’t the time to let my feelings get in the middle.

I waited until i was sure Namjoon had left with the female before saying anything, something had gone wrong between them already even though they didn’t share a single word, Yoongi had rejected the female hybrid.

- Yoongi, you okay? - i carefully walked to him.

- no… - he said, he had his back turned to me the whole time - i dont wanna do this…

I sighted looking at the floor. He never wanted in the first place, we only did what we thought was going to be the best for him due to the circumstances but it completely slipped out of my mind we had been ignoring his displeasure with the whole process.

- I know… and I’m sorry for not respecting your feelings against it - I muttered, walking towards him till I was close enough to his figure.

I didn’t know what to do, what would be safe to do in that moment. He had shown anger before and I didn’t know if he wouldn’t do the same to me but something about how his tone was lower now gave me the confidence to carefully i hold his hand in mine feeling his cold fingers intertwined with mine, my heart was instantly filled with relief. Watching as he turned around slowly to face me, I looked up into his dark eyes as with his other hand he reached to hold my chin between his fingers so carefully like a touch of feathers.

- i want you y/n, no one else - he whispered his confession over my lips - just you.

- Yoongi…

The words were completely stolen away from me just like my breath.

- please… - he took another step forward making me take another backwards - have my heat with me.

His words were making me feel dizzy, he continued to walk making me nervously take steps back. All air in my lungs were punched out of me.

Heat?

Why would he say such thing right now?

Why would he make me so flustered after licking someone else’s face?

I was completely unable of forming a single same thought in that moment, the heat rising up to my checks as he continued with that game until his words repeated so much in my head all I could think about was;

- you lied to me.

It came out breathlessly through my bloody lips, enough to stop him in his tracks once he had me caged between his body and his bad. Dark eyes locked into mine, the back of my knees touching the edge of the bed and in a breath of moment he simply pushed me over the it and a gasp left my lips, I look up at him now sitting in front of him as his lowers himself down between my legs on his knees.

- i did.. - he confesses, hands slowly reaching up to rest over my thighs - you lied too.

I wasn’t surprised to hear that, I knew he was aware of it.

- i don’t wanna lie anymore - i sighted, his hand held my chin to look at him - the truth is…

My words stopped him from leaning forward, he looked up from my lips to my eyes clearly not expecting me to continue but I had to. This conversation had to continue, I can’t hide things from him anymore.

-the person responsible for hurting you all this years set this process up, they wanted to take you down but not before…. - I paused, taking another breath before continuing looking down from his face to my hands over my lap - to make you reproduce another of your specie.

I don’t lie how much relief I felt after telling him, like a weight had left my chest. But no relief was enough to cover the pain of telling him the truth, the fear of losing him once he knows everything.

- I see… well, I expected that - he spat bitterly, getting up to leave.

That fear creeping inside my chest once again, I desperately held his hand before he could take another step.

- I couldn’t let them do that to you… - I tried to explain - that’s why I’ve been…

- that’s why you’ve been so kind to me? - he scoffed, pulling away from me - no wonder you’ve always been so against us being together.

- Yoongi…

- why don’t you go back to that Jin guy you like so much? - he spat.

When he took the first step away was filled by a an unsettling fear, I could no longer take this. I’ve been miserably trying to hide my feelings thinking this was the right the thing to do for him but now, after everything and seeing him go like that I couldn’t keep failing him.

- i said no more lies - I murmured holding his hand before he could walk away, pulling him closer till he was at the same height as my eyes - i.. i want to be with you too…

The words left my lips breathlessly, in that exact moment with him I realized I could no longer hide my feelings for him. I didn’t wanted to hurt him and keeping things from Yoongi all this time was the worst decision I made. So I took another deep breath as he kneeled down in font of me again, before I continued.

- the truth is, this whole time i was afraid - i tell him honestly - I didn’t know if any of this was right, when i first heard about your case I immediately knew i had to save you and now that i know everything i just… i dont wanna lose you Yoongi. I want you too.

At this point i was biting into my lower lip so hard to stop the tears from falling, looking anywhere but him right now. My face burned with shyness at my confession, it was too late to hide anything, too late to stop what we created when clearly none of us wants to.

I felt his hold on my chin again one arm closing around my waist as he pulled me in a hug. I held him tightly only realizing in that moment how badly I needed that, feeling his warm body against mine, all the bitterness from before completely melted away. As he pulled away from me enough only to look into my eyes, his lips brushing softly over my cheek i could feel a small smile forming over his lips.

- took you long enough… - he murmured against my cheek.

-Yoongi… - i groaned, feeling my eyes burn.

With those little words from him I knew everything was gonna be fine, as I rested my forehead against his feeling all the worries wash away from my mind as he softly caressed my jaw.

- mate with me y/n… - he murmured against my face softly - please, my whole body is burning for you if i don’t take you now I’m gonna go insane.

- but I’m human… I can’t - i said, nervously but he quickly cuts me off.

- that don’t mean anything to me, if you dont mind me as I’m - he said breathlessly, holding my chin to look into his dark glossy eyes.

- i don’t mind you at all…

- then… - he brushed his fingers softly over my jaw down my neck, pulling my shirt slightly down show more of the skin.

From the look in his eyes i knew exactly what he meant by that, i knew this was not the best choice to make in this moment but i didn’t wanted to stop him. I wanted him just as bad.

- you can bite me now….

I had no intention to deny it anymore how much I longed for Yoongi. All this time I’ve been helplessly trying to suppress my feelings for him, they only grew stronger. Now I can’t do that anymore, I don’t think I can ever see him again with someone else who isn’t me.

The words that left my lips seemed to initiate a fire in his dark eyes, I never seen before and just like a touch of a switch in a second he was a complete different him, burning desire under those glossy eyes stared right into mine before he finally claimed my lips between his.

A groan of pleasure raised from his chest vibrating through his whole body, pushing me back into the bed as he kneeled between my legs one hand beside my head to support his upper body.

He pulled away gently as he draws over my jaw with his fingers, my hands rested at my sides feeling my whole body melting at his touch. Eyes locked over his wet lips, he seemed to notice his effect over me chuckling softly before taking my bottom lip between his again this time sucking deliciously hard on it then pulling away once again, teasing me to his own pleasure.

- i taste blood on your lips…. - he murmured, I looked up to his eyes as he caressed said bottom lip.

- oh, sorry?

- why did you hurt yourself? - he asked, tracing down my jaw to my neck then sliding over my collar bones trespassing my shirt.

- I was…. nervous a guess… when I watched you guys…- my cheeks burned under his eyes, I could bearly form any sentences with his finger trailing down my chest.

- don’t do that again - he said, holding my chin up to look at his eyes - don’t hurt yourself because of me again.

- I won’t… i mean… no-

He cuts me off immediately with leaning down my lips to lick over my bottom lip, feeling his wet tongue over my lips were the end of me. All self control I thought I had were gone in that instant and pulling him even more closer to kiss him, finger closing between the back of his hair.

My own moan was engulfed by his groan against my lips as I claimed his tongue, kissing him hungrily.

I didn’t wanted that moment to end ever, to feel his hands rushing all over my body as our bodies bun with desire the need to feel each other growing at every second. In that moment nothing else mattered, it was just the two of us intertwined with each other, loving each other desperately how we’ve been yearning for.

I had no thoughts of a tomorrow, all I wanted was in this present moment. It never matter that he was a hybrid, I was attracted to him the moment my eyes fell over him. Knowing he was different, knowing everything and that he lied I still loved him. I still want him, for who he is no matter what.

Pulling his hair harder the moment he left my lips to leave kisses over my jaw, not trying to be careful anymore as he continued to leave love bite’s trailing down my neck.

- you’re mine.. - he whispers, kissing softly under my ear.

I closed my eyes harder feeling my whole body melt under him, holding into him tightly draining my face on his neck feeling his scales at the tip of my nose. A shaky breath leaving his lips in that moment and my entire body tingled at the knew erogenous spot I found on him, burning with excitement i begin to kiss softly over the scales on his neck feeling his breathing fastening above my skin.

A sentiment of accomplishment filled me encouraging me to be bolder and I carefully bit into his ear lobe, I didn’t know what I was doing and was immediately surprised when he held my arms above my head in a second after i bit him.

Looking up into his eyes as he leaned his forehead against mine completely breathless, cheeks red and sweat beginning to form on his skin. He seemed just as surprised.

- sorry… - I managed to mumble.

- no… I’ve never been bitten before, it’s so good… - he confessed.

- does it mean more to you? - I asked, still confused and hot under him.

He only nodded over me a smirk forming on his lips. My cheeks instantly turned red.

- means the same for when I bite you… - he murmured - you’re mating with me… you’re accepting me.

- Yoongi… - I free from his hold over my hands to close my arms around his neck pulling him closer to me - I’ll always accept you.

Claiming his lips with mine again, this time i could feel all his body melt above mine with all his worries washing off of him in that moment.

If only I could froze this moment with him and stay in here forever, maybe then I wouldn’t have to worry about tomorrow so much. If we would ever be able to be together like again.

Bold of me to assume this wouldn’t have any consequences, bold of me to let myself cross that line again today of all days.

The moment I heard the sound of the door opening I knew it was my doom and I didn’t think twice before pushing Yoongi away, quickly getting up into a sitting position as he reluctantly stood right there here not letting me go.

The mixed feelings I had in that moment would never be enough to describe how desperate I felt the second my eyes leaned over Jin’s figure standing right there.

No one said a single word for the longest second of my life, Jin looked at us then turned to the side showing his profile. Keeping his composure before speaking.

- I see what happened here, for now I need to speak in private with y/n - he said.

I couldn’t decipher what emotions exactly were crossing his eyes in that moment, I’ve never seen that side of him in all years of my career.

Looking up at Yoongi again pushing him by the chest slightly to get up this time he moved away for me, reluctantly but still. Before I could even take a step on Jin’s direction Yoongi held me back by the waist, turning to look at him now only to find his gaze staring back at Jin.

I could feel his whole body tensed up beside me and I knew he was ready to take matter in his own hands against Jin if he need to, this was not the best moment for such thing to happen Yoongi clearly took Jin’s words as a confrontation, a challenge against him over me.

- shit, Jin… I… - I breathed out shakily.

Noticing how I felt Yoongi instantly held my waist tighter.

- i don’t intend on making things more difficult than they have to be - Jin said, yes looking over Yoongi.

- really? Doesn’t look like - Yoongi spat at him, taking front of me protectively.

- no, Yoongi is fine… I should talk with him - i said, gently holding his arm.

He kept his gaze over Jin’s figure before slowly looking back at me.

- you’re leaving me… - it wasn’t a question.

- I’m not… ever - I murmured back to him, holding his face between my hands as i softly caressed his ear lobe the same I had bitten into before - I’m yours and you’re mine.

He closed his eyes leaning over my touch before slowly nodding.

- i’ll be right back okay? - at my words he opened his eyes, looking at Jin before turning back to me.

- ok.

I didn’t wanted to.

But I had to go now and fix things with Jin or else things my go down pretty badly especially since Yoongi feels like his territory has just been invaded, he was still under heat and could act out at Jin. I would hate to happen because of me, I must clear this out now. That is if I can even do that, i knew this would happen sooner or later I just hoped it could’ve at least wait until tomorrow.

With one last look at Yoongi taking a picture of his beautiful face right now to look back whenever I wanted to, I didn’t know how things would go from now or if I would ever get another chance to see him. I could only hope for.

I turned around to leave fallowing as Jin exists the room leaving the door opened for me, i don’t look back if I did I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to leave.

In my head I couldn’t even complain about my own stupidity, feeling like a child that was going to be lectured by her parents for not fallowing the rules. I didn’t meet Jin’s gaze once we were out of Yoongis room, being embraced by the cold air the corridors of the seventh floor. I felt even smaller under his gaze.

He stood there in front of me not saying anything and I could only feel my anxiousness grow, bitting into my bottom lip I feared now would be the last time I’d see Yoongi.

- y/n…

- shit, Jin! - I interrupted him, helplessly feeling like my whole world has coming to an end. Eye burning with tears.

- y/n let me begin… - he said, hands holding my shoulders to make me look at him and I did.

I expected to see anger on his eyes, disgust even disappointment but I didn’t. He still had the same softness in his features as he always had.

- i understand, okay? - he softly said - i… know it might sound crazy but, is okay.

Is okay?

- what? Why?

- you… you’re just like my mom - he sighted, a small smile forming on his lips.

I was completely at loss for words, just what was happening right now?

I felt like I was getting dizzy at this point, I couldn’t understand a single word that came out of his mouth. I know Jin was a kind soul but this doesn’t make any sense to me, he shouldn’t be okay with this. What is happening?

All the years I spent working with Jin brought us closer to the point I knew, the more I looked into his eyes I knew something wasn’t right, he was hiding something from me in that moment and i wants sure if I truly wanted to hear it now.

- I’m so sorry to throw this at you now, I’ll explain everything later - he said, and I begin to feel even more anxious - all you need to now now is that, Yoongi is… he’s my brother.

Then the ground underneath me opened and swallowed me whole.

Shit, Jin.

Note: Jin watching the drama unfolds in the other room like 👁️👄👁️. Finally heeeeeereeeee god this was a ride. I hope you guys like this chapter as much as I liked (and stressed over it) to write. WHAT THEY BROTHERS??!

See you guys on the next one!!! It’s not too long but I think is good. Sorry for any grammatical errors! Love you all!!

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

where the brook bends

the wistful wyvern, chapter two

a/n: something about fighting giant spiders just feels so quintessential skyrim...

summary: “you are two of my most trusted warriors. If it can’t be me out there, then it should be you two,” his glance then shifted between you both as he noticed the look on your face, “unless, of course, you have any objections.” 

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, slow burn, one-sided pinning, forced proximity, arachnophobia (giant spiders), weapons, violence, bathing in a river

word count: 2243

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“This is the third time in two years that dragon has attacked us,” the king’s jaw clenched, “third time, and we still don’t know how to slay it,” leaned against the central table in the war room, he glanced up to find Bucky’s eyes, “I was planning on going on a mission to gather intel, find its lair, study the beast, but–… things have changed,” on a heavy exhale, he let his eyes momentarily fall shut, “I need to stay here,” he stated slowly, “I can’t risk my life on a quest like this, not now that Cordelia is born… so,” his gaze fluttered back open, “I’m here to ask the two of you to take care of it.”  

Shooting a glance over at Bucky, you hesitantly uttered, “us?” 

You wanted to say no. A mission such as this could take months, and being stuck with Bucky for that long, just the two of you on the road, having to work so closely together, it might break you for good.

But then when Steve’s gaze locked with your own, the declination got stuck in your throat. 

“You are two of my most trusted warriors. If it can’t be me out there, then it should be you two,” his glance then shifted between you both as he noticed the look on your face, “unless, of course, you have any objections.” 

“No, of course not, your majesty,” you swiftly replied, knowing that this plague was so much bigger than your own little feelings, “it would be an honour.” 

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order, it should be under the name Y/l/n.”

“Ah, yes,” the blacksmith nodded with recognition, “your blades are right over here,” he turned to retrieve them, “it was five new daggers, correct?” he glanced over his shoulder as he gathered the crafted arms in his grasp.

“Oh, six actually,” you slightly raised yourself up onto your toes to catch a glimpse. 

“Right,” he turned his attention back to the table of finished and shiny weapons, “uh–”

But then before the blacksmith could begin to panic, a young apprentice came running over from the forge, “uncle, here!” and handed him the last dagger, “sorry, I was sharpening them and forgot one of them by the grinding stone.” 

“Thank you, Peter,” he then let his expert eye wash over the metal, “ah, you’re getting better!” a bright grin crept up on the lad's face, “excellent work, my boy,” the blacksmith then walked back to where you waited and slid the cloth-bound blades over the soot-stained counter, “here you are, miss.”

“How much do I owe you?” you opened up your coin purse and began to flick through the change. 

“Oh, no,” his hands raised up before him, “no charge,” a gentle shake tipped his head, “that’s already been taken care of by his royal majesty himself.”

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “received a letter yesterday morning for anything that you, or your other warden friend out there, might need, to put it on his tab.” 

“Alright, then,” a grateful chuckle bubbled out of you, “thank you.” 

And as you headed back out of the open smithy onto the quaint streets of Borün, the proprietor cheerily called after you, “have a good day!”

“You too!” you glanced back over your shoulder and offered the two figures a small wave. 

Nestled in a t-intersection, the heat of blacksmith swiftly got soothed by the breeze from the docks that bloomed only a few storefronts down to the left. The melody of gentle waves crashing against the harbour sloshed directly into your soul. One seagull had even dared to bravely wander past you into the town square that unfolded in the opposite direction. Casting a brief glance down there, by the bistro on the corner, you saw an energetic child spring and flee from the rest of their family, as they sat around one of the cosy outdoor seating options and enjoyed a quiet lunch, to favour a sprint around the vast tree that stood rooted in the centre of the square. 

“Did you get what you needed?” Bucky asked as you exited the shop, his grasp clutched tight around the reins of both Echo, his own horse that had a shiny black coat, as well as Zenna, the brown spotted mare you’d ridden for years. 

“Yep,” you tugged the newly acquired weapons into one of the saddlebags strapped to your horse, “you ready to go or do you have any last-minute errands before we head out?”

“Nope, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” he exhaled as you slid up onto Zenna, “let’s head out.”

“So, the dragon always escaped out west,” Bucky spoke, shooting a glance in your direction as you rode beside him, “every time, it was that direction.” 

“Hm…” you searched your inner map, your vision dancing betwixt the trees you passed as you cut through the south-eastern corner of The Noll Woods, “could it be dwelling out by Anng?”

“Maybe…” he cocked his head, “there are a lot of small islands all along that part of the coast, maybe it could have claimed one of them?”

“Possibly…” one of your brows then tilted up as a theory struck you, “or perhaps it’s even closer than that,” your neck twisted and you met his eye, “The Asadånie Mountains.”

“That certainly is a possibility,” his gaze averted as he thought on it, “I mean, the mountain range is immensely vast and dangerous by design. I don’t even think it’s ever been properly represented on a map yet with how few venture up there.” 

A noise then suddenly found your ear. A shrill clicking call from somewhere within the forest. 

“Shh, shut up,” you swiftly snapped as you pulled on the reins to stop your horse. 

Not hearing your hushed tone, Bucky kept on rambling, “it’s perfectly tucked away and secluded for a creature such as a dragon.”

“Barnes, I mean it, shut up,” you raised your voice sternly as your eyes raked the overgrown area around you. 

“What?” he finally stopped as well a few paces ahead of you, “what is it?” 

Sliding off of Zenna, you carefully looked around, listening intently for the sound that had chilled your bones. 

You should have looked up, because if you had, then you would have maybe spotted the giant spiders lurking before they dropped down from their vast webs spun throughout the treetops above. 

When one pounced on you, its curled fangs gnashing for a bite of your flesh, Bucky jumped off of Echo, though didn’t reach you before two skittered out to get him.

Drawing a dagger in each of your grasps, you then sank both of them into the spider’s dark and clustered eyes, twisting them clockwise before it sank to the forest floor below. 

As you yanked them back out, a spray of ickier trailed your blades, even as you turned to throw one of them into the bigger of the creatures advancing on your comrade, your aim slaying it instantaneously, the viscus scattered against the side of your face at the toss. 

But then a fourth one came from out of nowhere and pinned you down in the dirt. With the weapon still in your palm, your reach was too limited to strike it anywhere vital, though you still dealt a few blows where you could. Pierce it open above you, slimy viscera spilt out and showered your struggling form. 

On your next attack, the hilt of your blade managed to get stuck in the tough hide of the monster, and with the spider guts that slicked up not only your grasp, you began to fear you wouldn’t be able to pry it back out. 

But just before your hands slipped, as you tried to push it off of you and not render you its dinner, the spider suddenly went limp above you and you glanced up to see a thick bolt splitting its skull.

“Hey,” you snapped as you scrambled up onto your feet, “I had that one!”

Swinging his crossbow back over his shoulder, Bucky simply smirked, “sure, you did,” and bent down to pick up the dagger you tossed to save him, briefly flipping it playfully in his palm before he glanced up and threw it. For a split second, your eyes went wide, but then the short blade flew past your ear, and as your neck twisted to follow it, you watched as it logged itself into a younger spider you hadn’t noticed till now. 

As the horses grazed and drank from the nearby stream, you unfastened your own bedroll from the back of Zenna. 

When it was nestled under your arm, you offered the horse a gentle pat before turning back to the makeshift camp for the night. Sparks finally began to dance from Bucky’s efforts and the pile of twigs he had gathered was set aflame. 

Once your bedroll was unfurled on the mossy ground, you quietly sat atop of it, chewing on some dry rations you’d found in the bottom of your satchel and stared at the sun as it slowly sank into the horizon. As your vision danced between soft pink clouds in the lavender sky, your gaze suddenly grew wide as Bucky stood up from his side of the fire and began to shed his clothes. 

“What are you doing?” you asked as he peeled off the partial chainmail he wore and swiftly the dark blue tunic beneath, revealing his bare back to you before he cast a glance over his shoulder.

“Going for a dip. What does it look like I’m doing?” not slowing down at your alarm, he fiddled with his belt and stepped closer to the riverbank, “you know, you could use one as well,” he playfully added before stripping off the last of his clothing, “you reek of spider guts, my friend,” your gaze instantly fled up towards the sky before you could see more than just his backside. 

At the splash of his jumping into the water, you subtly sniffed yourself before reluctantly uttering, “alright, fine,” and you pushed yourself up to your feet. After gathering a clean shirt as well as a wide rag to dry yourself off with from your supplies, you piped up again, “but you stay up here, I’ll go find somewhere more private further down.”

“Ah, come on, snow, you don’t have to do that!” he argued as you began to wander away, “what do you want me to turn around? Promise not to sneak a peek at your goods?” 

But you just kept up your stride and called over your shoulder, “enjoy your bath, Barnes!”

The stream luckily curved slightly a ways further down. Not a lot, but enough to grant you enough assurance to give it a go. After you’d peeled off your layers of clothing and the pieces of leather armour that protected your frame, you slowly dipped a toe into the cool water. 

The blushing skies slowly melted into black as you bathed in the river. When you took a moment to rinse out the ivory tunic you’d worn, your gaze flickered down the stream to spot Bucky as he splashed water up onto the part of him not submerged. As droplets danced down his skin, you nearly stopped breathing entirely as you followed their trail down to what the water obscured. 

But then, like snapping awake from a dream, the dizzying sensation gave away to the depressing reality. 

Once you’d scrubbed and cleaned yourself the best that you could, the stars above began to twinkle as you patted your skin dry and shrugged on the acquired clean shirt, a burgundy one, as well as the rest of your attire. 

When you found your way back towards the camp, Bucky was already sitting by the fire, dressed and with his hair still dripping gently and turning the shoulders of his navy tunic nearly as dark as the night sky. 

After you’d hung your wet shirt over a nearby branch, without sharing another word with the other warden you travelled with, you laid down on your bedroll and closed your eyes. 

But before too long, Bucky’s low timbre found your ears over the crackling of the fire.

“Hey, what’s going on with you?”

“Uh, I’m trying to fall asleep,” you sighed loudly, “just as you should.” 

“No, I mean what’s going on?” he persisted, “are you mad at me or something?” 

Your eyes then blinked open to stare up at the stares, “why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know, yet you’ve given me the cold shoulder ever since you came back from Efira,” he then asked, “did something happen there?”

“Other than comb through tombs with a boring ass lord,” you huffed, “no, nothing happened.” 

“Then what’s wrong?” he demanded. 

The muscles in your jaw clenched tightly before you uttered, “nothing’s wrong.” 

“Did I do something to piss you off?” he kept pushing, “because if so, I’m sorry.”

Your muscles flexed as you forcefully raised yourself up on onto an elbow and twisted to shoot him a glare, “look, we are here on an important mission. We don’t have to be all buddy-buddy and reminisce about old times in order to get the job done, alright?”

Dark brows tightly knitted together, he stared back at you before eventually huffing, “fine.”

“Great,” you then heatedly flopped back down and tensely turned your back to him, “goodnight.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[thesunloveschips]

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 1: The Mortals' Side of the Wall

Summary: In the wake of Rhysand’s ascension as High Lord, the Bone Carver gifts a prophecy. More than five hundred years later, Azriel continues to wait for the one who is finally reborn as his High Lady’s sister. All it takes is a dip in the Cauldron for things to start falling into place.

Chapter Summary: After Feyre is taken to Prythian, the Archeron sisters navigate their lives in the mortal lands.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

****

A sleepy Nyra Archeron opened the door of her room and found the cottage in an unprecedented state. The door had been broken and the cold of the night was seeping in. Father and Elain stood in a stunned silence.

Nyra was not usually allowed to step out of her room unless the living area had been warmed enough. It was a mandate all her sisters had imposed on her and she had no issue complying with their demands. She was, after all, sick. A consequence of something that transpired years ago. Nyra kept quiet about it with only their father knowing the truth of it. She had made him promise his silence in that matter. 

Nesta, having noticed her, marched over to her and used her body to shield her twin from the cold winds. She took her hands and a single tear escaped her eye. “Feyre. She’s gone.” Nyra’s eyes widened. She could not come up with the correct words to say. She could not process this information and the sudden shock of it had her in silence.

Despite being twins, the two sisters had their differences. The physical differences started with subtle details like the natural shape of their eyebrows, Nesta's narrower eyes and even their hair. The former had wavy hair and the latter had curls but none of that mattered. Now, Nyra was sick and Nesta was not and that was the greatest difference between them. Which illness had grabbed Nyra in its clutches was not known to any physician they had consulted so far.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Nyra’s voice was somehow colder than the winds howling outside. 

“Some beast… a fae came and took her. In exchange for the life of the fae she hunted.” Nesta looked terrified. Nyra had never seen such a sight, not for a long time. Not since their mother.

But when had Feyre hunted a fae? It had been weeks since she went out to those woods. And then it was today. She had returned with the corpse of that ridiculously large wolf. Skinned it and sold its pelt in the market for some decent amount. They had talked a bit after dinner. Feyre sounded relieved at having hunted something that would last for weeks and had earned money for bread and some vegetables. They had talked about that fellow Nesta claimed would propose to her. Feyre had gone quiet upon the mention of that man's name and had only told Nyra that she would talk to Nesta. And now, she was gone. They had just had dinner. A decent meal after so long. She was gone.

“The wolf?” Nyra asked. And at that moment, a red haired male walked in. The sisters looked at him and watched him as he observed his surroudings, clearly displeased by the sight before him with his frown as an indication. He looked at the twins, then at Elain and their father. He bowed just a little before he walked forward with authority as though he was the lord of this land. 

“I apologise for the intrusion. This will be quick and I will be off on my way.” He was fae. Many factors indicated that. The pointed ears, the otherworldly beauty and the power he exuded from his presence and many other factors the sisters were not able to identify in the aftermath of the youngest of them no longer in the cottage. 

Something changed in the air and another fae walked in. Blonde hair and dressed in hunting attire. He spoke nothing but lifted a hand and a wave of something unrecognisable washed over the air. Nesta and Nyra watched as the two fae watch their family and discuss something. The golden haired fae walked forward.

"Feyre Archeron has been invited to your distant aunt, Mrs Ripleigh's estate. The old lady has fallen seriously ill and apologises for calling your sister on such short notice. Feyre has left to tend to this ill aunt of yours and in exchange for her care, you have been gifted with some gold and gems and the like which you will find waiting for you in the carriages outside. Feyre will be well taken care of in Mrs Ripleigh's estate." He paused just for a moment as he looked at the twins now. "We bid you farewell, Archerons." And with that grand and unconvincing background story, the golden haired fae snapped his fingers.

Moments passed by. The next thing anyone knew, there was no one in the cottage except for the Archerons sans Feyre. A few moments passed before Elain and their father came to their senses and began rambling about a distant aunt who had called the youngest sister to take care of her. Both of them sounded worried about this non-existent aunt.

Nyra and Nesta shared a glance. There was no such aunt. And the astonishing amount of wealth in the carriages outside their cottage was completely suspicious. But their father and Elain did not notice as they prepared to return to the life of riches. 

With not even a moment to mourn for the loss of her sister and the strange males who had entered their house and did something to cause everyone except herself and her twin from forgetting the original version of events, Nyra Archeron found herself being transported to this new house the very next day. Three days later, the Archeron family had re-entered high society. 

****

“Nyra?” Elain’s gentle voice called out, followed by two knocks on her bedroom door. 

The new mansion had brought a lot of safety and space for the Archerons. While Elain and their father were blissfully unaware of the reality of Feyre’s situation, Nesta and Nyra sat together and discussed what could be done.

Nesta had just come up with a wild idea to go towards the wall and Nyra had firmly opposed it. It was completely out of character for Nesta to come up with such a reckless idea. The contention her twin had placed was that their younger sister was out there and they did not even know if she was safe. It had been a month and Nesta was more than determined to seek answers. And Nyra admitted defeat. 

The twins were supposed to plan for the journey. Together. That was what they had decided last night. 

“Good morning, Elain.” The middle sister smiled. Elain had not lost the ability to smile, poverty or not. She walked in with a bouquet of freshly cut flowers. Nesta had completely lost her smile and Nyra was on the verge of it.

Elain always made sure there was a bouquet of fresh flowers in all their rooms, the library and their father's office ever since wealth came back to their family. It was her way of expressing her affections. Her personal maid, Lola, followed her with a tray of steaming soup and cutlery. 

Mere moments later, Nyra’s personal maid, Ayla, walked in with a bright smile as she saw the older Archeron already awake. Two more maids followed her with some things required for preparations for a bath and headed to the bathing chambers. 

“Good morning, my lady.” Ayla greeted as she opened the curtains and Elain carefully placed the flowers on the table. She took the vase and headed to the bathing room to change the water. 

“Good morning. Ayla. Lola.” The other maid looked up in surprise after having set down the tray and quietly returned the greeting. 

Ayla had been assigned to take care of Nyra like Lola had been for Elain. Her sister walked into the room and began carefully placing the flowers in the vase. Despite her concentration, she began to speak.

“I have something to tell you.” Elain was bright and glowing and Nyra suspected something major might have happened. Maybe she’d gotten a hold of those new fertilisers from the Continent for her garden. Or the orchids had finally bloomed after so long. Or maybe, she’d met someone. 

“There’s a ball. And we’re invited.” Nyra nodded at her with a gentle smile, encouraging her to continue. Elain told her all the details she’d been privy to so far. Details of the host, the location, the time and the venue, other potential invitees. And finally, of Elain’s hopes for the ball. 

“I do hope I meet someone.” The smile vanished and Nyra blinked once and then smiled again.

“If that is what you wish.” Nyra sounded like an old lady in these moments. As though she were blessing her family to get all that they desired in her dying moments.

One would suppose that was true in a way. Nyra was still running the risk of being on her deathbed. Nesta had a very heated conversation with their father about the best physicians being there for Nyra at their beck and call. And for the merchant guilds to be out searching for a cure or any leads to the same. And for the warmest furs so that she did not feel cold, the softest fabrics so that her dresses would not itch. And a lot of things that made Nyra feel that it was supposed to be compensation for their lives during those years of poverty that were still fresh in their minds.

Back in Nyra's bedroom, Elain did not know how to speak more about the ball. She did not want to speak of the seamstress who had just been hired for making gowns for the sisters, or the rich fabrics their father had procured from his recent travels. She knew Nyra would not be able to attend a ball unless it was hosted right here where she could retire for the night at her convenience. 

“You should go, Elain." Nyra took her hand in hers as a gesture of assurance, hoping she would get the message. "It is a good opportunity to meet potential husbands. I only ask that you marry not for convenience and that you genuinely get along with him. If you do happen to love someone then that would be a blessing indeed.” 

Elain’s answering smile was the first bloom of spring. “Yes.” But then it vanished at the thought of Nyra not being able to attend the ball. Her face dipped and sadness started clouding over.

“Do not worry for me. A sick girl has no use for husbands.” Nyra placed a hand on Elain’s cheek and gently lifted her face. “Come, show me your gowns when they are ready. And go and enjoy all the balls and tea parties and every gathering you wish to attend. For both of us.” Elain took her sister in an embrace and Nyra fondly returned the same. 

“I have asked Nesta to help me with my dancing.” Elain’s words were a sharp reminder that their mother had groomed Nesta to be a master of many including the art of dancing. With demanding lessons and harsh criticism, the woman had managed to mold Nesta into some version of herself. Being their mother’s daughter, she did become like that but at the end of the day, she was also father’s daughter. And love was a trait she inherited from father, not mother. 

It was then that Nyra remembered where she had left off her conversation with Nesta the last night. “Where is Nesta?” She asked Elain. 

They walked towards the bathing chambers. Elain took a seat on a chair near the window, a few feet from the bathtub. The hot water was ready for the bath and Ayla helped Nyra undress. As a naked Nyra slowly sat down inside the tub, Elain looked outside and replied. “She has gone off to meet Aunt Ripleigh. Took the carriage the first thing in the morning.”

It took control for Nyra to stop herself from expressing her anger right then. Elain was not privy to the discussions she had with Nesta and Nyra did not want to expose anything now when there was absolutely no guarantee any of them would ever see Feyre again. After having gathered herself with the assistance of the pleasantly warm water surrounding her body, Nyra asked Elain another question. “Did she say something else?”

“She wanted to invite Feyre to the ball and see if she could convince our aunt to let her go for a few days.” Elain did not know that the existence of this aunt was a lie. And Nyra couldn’t help the anger rising in her chest at Nesta’s abrupt departure. They were still supposed to discuss more about it but Nesta had just gone off this fine morning. Nyra made a mental note to give her hell for that. For now, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths.

While Nyra was bathed in a luxury that seemed to be a distant memory from the past, Elain looked outside the window lost in her own thoughts. “Do you think Feyre is enjoying there?” Elain’s question was an unexpected one for Nyra who knew the truth and was in the middle of discussions to get their sister out. 

“Enjoying?” Nyra had a hard time saying that word. Feyre did leave of her own will but only so that their family would be spared. There was not much of a choice for her. 

Ayla scrubbed her back while another maid held her hair. Her curls were beautiful and Elain loved them. Feyre and Nesta had gentle waves whereas she And Nyra had the curls. Elain stood out a little apart from the rest of the sisters due to her being the only one with their father’s brown eyes but these curls gave her a sense of belongingness. 

It seemed like a waste. Nyra as a child had been as adorable as the rest of them. The Archeron girls were pleasant to look at. With very little life left in her, Nyra’s physical beauty had been ripped away from her. Her curls would have been beautiful like her own if she were healthy. She did not know how the eyes would look like if they are full of health and life. Nesta seemed less inclined to enjoy anything except the comfort of their home and Feyre was not here. A healthy Nyra would have had the milky skin Elain had. Nesta and Feyre had slightly rosier complexions.

"Enjoying as in is she taken care of? Does she have new clothes now? A more comfortable bed? I have nothing against Aunt Ripleigh and her health but I can't help but think of Feyre. It was all so sudden."

Elain's words did strike Nyra. It was, indeed, all so sudden. For a long time, there were only rumours of anyone having ever seen a fae. And within one day, Feyre had killed one, been taken away by another, and the family had been visited by two fae.

Elain herself was now busy thinking of the upcoming ball and the gowns and all the people she would get to meet. Her thoughts drifted to Nyra and she imagined her older sister in a gown. It could be silver or a pastel shade. Could be gossamer or pure silk with tulle here and there. Gowns would trail after the four sisters as they entered the ballroom. All of them would be so beautiful.

Medication for Nyra was now affordable and their father ordered lots of it. New physicians were summoned and they promised an improvement in her health. Elain hoped that was the case. That Nyra would be completely rid of her illness and would join her in the social circles. She knew that Nyra would have kept Nesta and her claws at bay thereby giving Elain a bit more space to enjoy the parties and balls and whatever celebrations that would take place. 

****

That evening, Nesta returned and barged into Nyra’s room. She looked thoroughly unnerved. “Feyre. She…” Nesta paced around the room, around the armchairs, across the length of the room. When she finally stopped, she looked over at Nyra who was comfortable cuddled in a blanket on an armchair near the fireplace. Nyra calmly waited for her twin to stop panicking but the tone she used to mention their youngest sister was rather worrisome. 

Nesta walked over and kneeled before Nyra who took her hands in her own. “I couldn’t get over. I couldn’t go beyond that damned wall.” And the tears began. Nyra slightly moved and slowly made Nesta lie down on the sofa with the latter's head resting on the former's lap. As Nesta weeped, silent tears flowed freely from Nyra's eyes.

Where was Feyre?

Was she okay?

Was she...

****

[probablyspooky]

Traitor (2010 Predator x Fem! Reader) Pt. 2

Yall ate this up like a nice bowl of mama’s chili 

(I’m stupid as fuck)

Last Next

Being forced to follow beings you didn’t like wasn’t unusual for the typer of placement you had in your life, when you first met Berserker, you hated him, oh you hated him.

You had been born on a planet much like the one you were on, while your DNA was human, you had never been to Earth before, your parents often taught you of the many things that went on Earth, but soon their numbers were called, and they were taken away to be hosts for face-huggers. By the time you came of age you had managed to make a friend, a young yautja who looked a bit different than the others who surrounded him, his eyes were much more sunken, and his jaw and mandibles were larger than normal, many mocked him, or you thought they were mocking him. 

Before you could be used as a host for a face-hugger, you were a servant for the Elders of the tribe, often skinning meat, and preparing meals for those who had just had a successful hunt. Berserker would often watch you, and tease you that he was going to rip your spine off, often cornering you in buildings threatening to take your life then and there, and no one would bat an eye.

You often cried yourself to sleep in fear of being brutally murdered, but this was the life you were born into. As you grew older to adulthood, so did Berserker, even though he was still technically older than you as they age slower, (say you were like 11 when you were a servant he was a bit bigger than you already but like a teen in their eyes, so like 30 something in human years don’t quote me on this I’m so sleepy), when you were brought up to age, you and those in your same age group, were brought up to the Elders chambers, which served as the meeting room. There they were designating where each of you will be sent, whether that be into slavery for life, or being sent off planet to be hunted.

When the Elder came to you, he held the marker covered in acid (much like the xenomorph blood used in Alien vs. Predator), a voice spoke up, that of the Berserker predator, who had grown rather large, larger than those who had made fun of him in the past, he had proven to his Elders in his time to be a mighty hunter and warrior, bringing honor and glory to the Hunters clan.

“Wait!”, he spoke up, causing the Elder to growl in his direction for interrupting this ceremony.

“What is it?”, Elder hissed in his direction,

“I wish to take her as my own,”

“To eat?”

“To mate”

It took a bit of convincing amongst the Elders to see if this was even allowed, but the oldest Elder, dubbed Vi’kor, spoke out on how in the past their kind has mated with those of different species before, often to create stronger hybrid offspring, adding to his argument that Berserker has proven himself time and time again on the battlefield, allowing him to have his pet is a suitable reward.

And like that, you were chosen by Berserker as a mate, he didn’t force himself upon you, but as tradition is important to them, the two of you were to go on a hunt together, somewhere off planet, and as the story goes, the two of you grow closer, perhaps it was the time he rescued you from a large bear tiger beast, or when you helped tend to the wounds he received while protecting you, but the two of you meshed together rather well.

The two of you staring into a fire, where his latest kill was being roasted over the fire, he didn’t prefer this cooked meat idea, but your stomach couldn’t handle raw meats such as these. 

While tending over the fire, you began to poke at the meat, trying to see if the meat was cooked all the way through, suddenly feeling the graze of your mates fingers upon your back, you slowly turned your head to look at him.

“Yes?” you asked, turning to look at him

“You are very small...I could hurt you at any moment,” he replied, clicking his mandibles

“Yes you could,” you mumbled, feeling uneasy, and turning back to look at the meat.

While you did this, a second hand found its way around your waist, and you felt his chest press against your back, his odd attempt at a hug.

“I will protect you then,” he whispered into your ear

“Thank you...” you replied, touching his bicep with your hand.

That night, you were truly mated, your bond only growing stronger over the years, eventually as yautja do, he wished for offspring, but not wanting to lose you possibly from any complications, he took you to the best healers his clan had to offer. That year you were poked and prodded, bruises from bloodwork, and other types of medicines on your body, it all took a toll.

Laying in the nest of his chambers, a metal bowl that hovered above the ground, filled with pelts and furs, you lay, resting after another healer visit. You could hear the door open, and the heavy footsteps of Berserker enter. You didn’t dare move, you were too sore, too tired, you simple gave a whimper to acknowledge his presence.

“You are tired?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the nest, taking his large hand and brushing your hair back (or down if you have curly hair).

“I am very sore, but I’ve been sore before” you chuckled, turning over to look at him

“I am sorry...” he grumbled, taking his hand back

“It is okay, I’m doing this for you,”

“If it becomes too much, you can stop”

You smiled and placed your hand onto the hand that was on your head, rubbing your thumb against his wrist. 

“I can handle it love”

He quickly stood up, and stormed out of the room, love was not a term that was used often in his native tongue, guilt washed over him, and he began to realize that he cherished you more than his desire for an offspring.

He was on his way to the healers quarters to call the whole thing off, but once he entered the healer greeted him calmly and informed that the tests were a success, and that you could carry a pup to term.

Excitement washed over him, as he rushed back to your shared home, throwing himself onto the nest with you, you jumped up startled.

“What is wrong?” you said, panic in your voice taking over

“You can carry my child!” he replied, pinning you to the bed, ready to take you in that moment

“Wait!” you gasped, as he began to reach for your lower skirt

“What is wrong?”

“It is my time”, you mumbled, embarrassed

Like a clock ticking it took him a moment to understand what you meant, and like bait in a trap, he understood.

“Very well, we will get you pregnant next month, but for now...”he growled reaching for your skirt once again.

And here you were currently, following humans who had in fact been born on Earth, those had seen war, those who committed crimes, some worse than others.

The group continued to walk throughout the forest, eventually forcing you to a clearing, familiar foliage became known and you felt your heart skip a beat as you realized you were closer to camp.

Feeling your excitement over take you, you began to quicken your pace, which surprised Isabelle, she took note of you, hoping maybe your head trauma was fading away. Someone else took note of your excitement, but not in a good way. Royce didn’t trust you, not one bit.

Soon the group came up to the trophy pillar, where disregarded trophies of past hunts were left behind as a remembrance. About a mile from the camp, the group and you were ambushed by a dead mans trap, before you could fall into a high tech bear trap, you felt an invisible hand grip your back, and pull you back, throwing you on your ass to the ground, while the others were scrambling to not get murdered.

You knew it was Tusk, who else could it be, he was watching over you. You began to scan the tree line looking for possible vantage points he could be hiding in. Your eyes landed on a large sturdy branch that was shaking, as if something large was on it. 

Smiling you waited walked around the traps, trying to take note of any traps that might also be armed nearby.

As Edwin was freaking out, and Royce and Nikolai investigated the dead corpse who had set the traps that had just gone off, you could hear the sounds of familiar running steps. The sound of your beloved hunting dog panting could fill your ears, same as the rest of the groups. Isabelle quickly grabbed you, pulling you behind her, as they began to fire at the monsters you called your pets.

Berserker had gotten you a dog as protection when you often left their home station to forage in the nearby bramble for fruits and berries for yourself, you didn’t have a name for him, as you just called him your sweet.

Seeing the familiar face of your dog charging towards you, Isabelle lifted her rifle up to take aim at your dog, thinking quickly you pushed her gun into the air, causing the gun fire to miss him just barely. They had managed to shoot and kill one of the other dogs, but before yours could excitedly jump up at you to lick your face as he usually does, Falcon blew the whistle in the distance, sweet looking at you whimpering, and then retreating back into the forest.

The group began to argue, mad at what was going on, Isabelle was mad at you for shoving her gun away, but what could she do, you weren’t talking to anyone. Nikolai dragged one of the corpses into the center of the group for everyone to inspect.

“We’re being hunted” he said, spitting on the corpse, much to your annoyance.

“They sent the damn dogs after us!” Stans shouted, kicking dirt in any direction he could, and then his eyes landed on you again, you shuffled and hid behind Mombasa, who understood the assignment and placed his hand in front of you as protection. 

Stans launched himself at Mombasa, putting his small knife to Mombasa’s neck, demanding one of of his weapons as protection. Mombasa, sliding his rifled between the two of them, threatening to end his life, along with his own.

Once the group calmed down a bit from realizing they were hunting game, you continued the walk towards the camp. Your impatience growing with every stop, first Isabelle wanted to show that they were in fact, not on Earth, Royce pointing out they had been there for hours, and it’s as bright as it was when they landed. Dread began to settle over the group, on everyone besides you that is.

Soon enough, you found the familiar markings of the Jungle Hunters clan pillars, and you began to smile wide as the thought of being with your love again began to wash over you.

But of course your joy was short lived, as Royce just had to go bother the young yautja that was chained in the center of the camp, he began to roar and growl at the sight of all these humans, and then his eyes settled on you, cursing you out in their native tongue. While everyone started freaking out, the familiar sound of clicking filled your ear, as you turned to see nothing, knowing your mate was close by, you began to walk away from the group, hoping to feel at home once again. But before you could step too far, Stans ran up and tried grabbing your arm to pull you back.

“Where the hell are you goin?” he snarled, his stupid face was first confused, but it was swapped with fear, as a plasma blast shot between the two of you. 

Berserker had fired a warning shot at Stans, as a warning not to touch his mate, soon one by one Falcon, Tusk and Berserker began to turn off their cloaks, showing themselves.

“Shit!” Isabelle shouted, quickly running to your side, and grabbing your arm once again, and with the group, you all began to run away from the camp. You tried stomping into the ground, trying to stop them from taking you away.

“Why can’t you run?” she shouted, at you stopping for a second to scold you like a child.

Mombasa quickly rushing over to help, he grabbed you, and began to drag you with him, the familiar beeping in your breast cup started again, and you quickly pulled yourself away from Mombasa, as he was impaled by a spear trap, causing his gun to go off, a bullet barely grazing your leg, you sneered in pain and agony.

Nikolai quickly ran over, fireman carrying you off the camp, Berserker sending more firing shots in your general direction, trying not to harm you, but trying to scare them off of you. No one was paying any attention to where they were running off to, and soon you all ran off a cliff into a lake.

The cold water rushing over your body as the stinging pain of hitting water hit your body, you began to struggle under the water, Falcon had sent his drone over the waters to see if you were okay as her Alphas orders, once he saw you break the surface of the water, he took note of the rest of the humans and where they seemed to be heading and recalled his drone.

You weak attempts at swimming didn’t go unnoticed, as Royce grabbed the back of your collar, and threw you onto the ground on the shore bank.

“You know what those things are! The both of you!” he shouted towards Isabelle and you.

You didn’t say anything, as your leg was hurting. Nikolai came over and tore the bottom half of his shirt off, Edwin quickly rushing over and bandaging your leg, seeming to take too much time touching your skin, you felt fear rush over your body.

Isabelle sighed, and explained that before, when she was off in the jungles on Earth, her men and her had been taken off one by one, she was injured and it seemed to leave her alone, explaining that those who had seen the beast described it the same way that the young yautja looked.

Royce spit on the ground, and pointing at the rest of the group.

“No more secrets, especially from you” he snarled, pointing at you.

“She can’t even talk, let alone keep a secret, what could she know?” Isabelle stated, standing in between you to, as to protect you from Royce.

As the group continued on, the familiar red dots of a plasma rifle crossed over the whole group, Royce turning his face to look at the yautja mask that uncloaked before you.

“What the hell are you?” Royce whispered, not realizing that whatever this was, it was not in fact a yautja.

“I’m alive” he said, removing his mask to reveal that he, Noland, was in fact a human same as them.

Seeming to have no other options, the group and you followed Noland to his makeshift home, in the wreckage of left behind ships from many seasons ago. One by one Noland lead the group into his home, but stopping to give you a weird look.

Noland began to explain that he had been trapped on this planet for ten seasons, and each season they just send bigger and stronger yautja, stopping to look at you.

“I know you” he said, pointing at you with a shaky hand.

Your face began to burn red, as fear overcame your body.

“Wait you know her?” Edwin asked, turning his between the two of you

“Yeah I know her, I think, do you? No not that one the other one, now you’re just being stupid”, Noland replied, but he seemed to just have a conversation with himself.

“Earth to captain insanity” Royce snapped, “How do you know her?”

“Well, I haven’t see her per say, I’ve seen them talk on those wrist watches they got, little pictures hovering over their arms, sometimes they call others, one of them though, is really ugly, but always has this girl on his lap, kind of looks like her”

Like a lightbulb moment going off in his head Royce turned his gun to look at you. “That’s why you won’t talk! You fucking live with them don’t you! What are you? Like their pets or something?”

“Woah back off fucker!” Isabelle shouted, pointing her gun towards Royce.

You began to cry, tears stinging at your eyes, but that wasn’t the only thing stinging your eyes, as Noland had started a fire in an attempt to kill you all and take your equipment.

“Noland what the hell!” Royce yelled, everyone seemed to drop the issue at hand and move on to survival, Stans kicking down the at a loose wall panel. Everyone else was screaming, the beeper in your breast cup was beeping louder, trying to alert someone who was nearby of your location.

Nolan dies off somewhere because honestly fuck him girly pop.

Soon Stans screams and cries for help continued to echo along with each kick of the wall panel. After a bit, the smoke began to die down, Tusk had put out the fire nearby, the beeper got louder and louder, and when Stans ran  over to you to see what that sound was, he shamelessly dug around in your breast cups, pulling out your tracker, holding it up for everyone to see.

“The bitch lead them right to us!” he shouted, turning to you quickly, punching you across the face, knocking you to the ground.

Isabelle quickly ran over, hitting him with the butt of her rifle, and kneeling down next to you.

“Knock it off, I’m sure she has her reasons,” she shouted

Stans was held back by Nikolai and Royce, everyone started yelling, and shame washed over you, and in typical fashion you bowed your head to the ground.

“I’m sorry!” you shouted, and silence was quick, as this is the first time anyone had heard your voice.

“Speak,” Isabelle said, rubbing your back, “Tell them you’re trapped here like us.”

“I am not! I am here with my mate! I did not mean to be here with you! I just...haven’t seen another human in so long, but I’m not supposed to interfere..”

“You fucking BITCH!” Stans shouted, spitting at your face, Isabelle looked at you, knowing she defended someone who potentially got them all killed.

Before anyone else could respond, you began to cry out.

“Tusk!” you sobbed out loud, and as soon as you finished you cry for help, the panel where Stans was kicking, suddenly was punched from the opposite side, knocking it loose, and then knocking it down.

A terrifying silence fell over the ship, as nothing came from the hole, and no one dared move. Seeing this as your chance, you quickly tried to rush to the hole, but when half your body managed to get halfway out, Stans broke off and stomped into your back, causing you to cry out in pain.

A roar could be heard echoing off the walls of the ship, and while everyone momentarily took in their surroundings, you quickly slipped past through the hole, and began to rush down the seemingly empty hall. 

Royce, Nikolai, Isabelle, Edwin, Hanzo (I hate that they named him this), and Stans began to follow you. Eventually making their way out of the ship, you quickly ran into the fog ahead, knowing that Berserker would probably be waiting for you with open arms. Seeing that you’re trying to escape them, Stans rushes ahead, and tackles you to the ground, taking a fist full of your head, momentarily whispering vile things into your ear as you laid under him.

The rest of the group caught up and didn’t even try to pull him off of you, but they wouldn’t let him do anything too rash. While the two of you struggled against the ground, a roar echoed over the group.

Stans quickly, full of fear jumped off of you, you continued to cry in pain in the dirt. Before anyone's eyes, you seemed to float off the ground, bridal style. One by one Berserker, Tusk, and Falcon turned their cloaks off.

“Oh fuck,” Royce said, taking a step back.

You continued to cry into your mates shoulder, he quickly placed you on your feet, and with his large hands began to scan your body for injury, seeing the fresh bruise on your face from the punch, his finger gently tapped on your face, causing you to wince in pain, seemingly to ask, “Who did this?”

Through your tears, you pointed to Stans, and pulled Berserker close, whispering into his ear area (they don’t have ears), of how he had continuously touched your body, and the vile things he whispered to you just now.

A rage washed over your mates body, as he caressed your face with his large hand, he turned back to the ground, and roared towards Stans, taking out a small blade, firing it at Stans leg, making him scream out in pain, knocking him to the ground.

The rest of the group went to take a step back, but were stopped by Falcon and Tusk, as to make sure they were going to see their own fates soo enough.

While Stans was on the ground, he tried crawling towards you, as to beg for mercy, but as soon was his hands reached out and touched the hem of your skirt, your mate came up behind him, pulling his wrist bladed out, he hooked into Stans back, making him scream in agony as blood began to spill out of his mouth. Berserker raised Stans to the sky, pulling his blades back, causing his body to one again fall to the ground, Stans screaming in agony as blood began to flood the ground under him. 

As a final statement of his status, Berserker reached his hands into the back wounds of Stans, gripping his spine, retrieving the trophy of Stans, his spine and skull. Raising it to the sky, and roaring into the night of his victory, Berserker made a show of making sure the rest of the group would see what he was capable of, Falcon and Tusk then moved back, allowing the rest of the group to run off into the night. Berserker turned to you again, and knelt down, holding the trophy out to you, as a gift.

Smiling you took it into your hands, blood coating your fingers, knowing this is his way of saying sorry, you took his hand into yours, and the four of you began to walk back to your camp.

Once there you took a needed rest in your makeshift shelter, Mombasa’s body still sitting in the trap as flies began to feast on his flesh. Laying down on the large fur that was laid out for you, you tried to close your eyes for a needed rest. But soon you began to feel the familiar pressing of your mates member, pressing into your back.

Turning over rather fast, you grabbed into your mates chest plate, pulling him onto of you. Oh you had missed him, he wasted no time ripping your skirt off of your body. Then tearing his loin cloth off of himself, exposing all of his length to you, forcing himself into your already wet entrance,  pulsing himself into you repeatedly, over and over, feeling that you were not showing enough skin to his liking, he grabbed your breast cover, and tore it off of your body.

With every thrust of his torso, he watched your breasts wobble up and down with every thrust. You began to moan aloud, causing your mate to growl like a beast into the forest, Falcon and Tusk were currently sitting on the other edge of camp, pretending this wasn’t happening currently.

Berserker clawed into your legs, gripping you closer to him, he pulled you to sit up and look at him, but he still had that mask on.

“The mask.” you moaned, “Off please...”

He quickly ripped off his mask to show all of his face, his mandibles clicking, soft purrs emanating from his chest. Snuggling your face into his neck, he continued to thrust up into you, his hand grasping your butt with every thrust, his claws sinking into your skin, small droplets of blood began to drip out, but this was something you were used to. Whimpering into your mates ear, you could feel the pool of pleasure reaching its brim, you began to convulse as your orgasm  shook you to your core, the tightening of your body sent your mate over the edge, and he reeled his head back in pleasure, roaring into the night sky.

Afterword, he laid you back down onto your furs, and began to pet your hair.

“I am sorry I let you get hurt, I failed you as a protector” he whispered

“It’s fine love, you’re here now that's all that matters.” you replied, tracing your hands across his chest.

Quiet purrs could be heard, he truly was happy you were back in his reach.

Everything seemed to be okay that night, you rested within the arms of Berserker, unknowing of the danger of the humans who lurked nearby.

They knew you were the key to them getting off planet, and they knew they had to get to you soon before Berserker took you away.

[ladykailitha]

The Last Dragon Slayer

This is what my brain gets up when I'm sick and can't sleep.

Enjoy!

~

50 years prior there were a rise in dragon habitations and to combat what the humans saw was an infestation trained dragon slayers.

But the profession is dying out as most of the evil dragons have been slain, and those that try are beat back by their own kind.

In a small kingdom the evil King Richard wants to get rid of the dragon that has taken residence in the mountain nearby.

So he hunts around to find that all the dragon slayers have died or retired long since.

All but one. Sir Steven of Harring's Town. He is a disgraced prince whose mother was eaten by a dragon shortly after his birth and has vowed to find and kill the creature.

The King almost turns him away when he arrives. He is thin, almost too thin to hold up his armor, his horse is on its last legs. His sword is chipped with many battles and held together with leather and tattered silk.

It's clear this man has not known a decent meal in a really long time.

But the dragon must be dealt with.

So the king feeds Sir Steve up for a couple of days so that he at least has the strength to draw his sword and sends off, pointing in the direction of the beast's mountain.

The dragon, Edgewraith, is black dragon with red eyes, claws, and underscales.

He is quite fearsome to behold.

He watches as this piteous creature stumbles off his aging horse and struggles up to the cave entrance.

"How desperate King Richard must be," Edgewraith hisses, smoke and spark spilling from his mouth. “To send me you."

Sir Steven pulls off his helmet and throws it to the ground. "I am the last dragon slayer, monster. All I ask is a shift death and that you mount my head on a spike in front of your cave announcing my demise."

Edgewraith is startled but before he could even form a response, the knight faints.

Two weeks later Sir Steve wakes to find the most beautiful man standing over him with a cup of broth. He has long dark curls and reddish brown eyes. Sir Steven falls in love almost immediately.

Eddie, as the man introduces himself, tells him that no one will come looking for him, as the dragon has spelled a skull to look like his visage and done as he asked.

Sir Steve is dead as far as the world knows.

Steve cries in relief.

The two slowly get to know each other and fall in love.

But before they can make love for the first time, Eddie reveals himself to be the dragon, Edgewraith.

Steve replies that he figured it out a long time ago and didn't mind. He took care of him when no one else would. Of course he fell in love with him.

Eddie knows that they can't couple, because of how hot he runs but one day a stray ember hits Steve in the leg but he doesn't call out in pain.

He picks it up and tosses it neatly into the fire. Once while making dinner for them both, Steve slips with the knife, but he doesn't bleed.

So Eddie starts pressing Steve a bit more about the dragon that supposedly ate his mother. All the villagers had described it as breathtaking. Bright bronze scales on top and warm brown eyes, claws, and underscale.

Eddie knows who this is and sends out the call.

Mirrorsong arrives and when she sees Steve instantly transforms.

"Mother?" Steve cries because the castle had paintings of his mother everywhere and he even kept a miniature he had painted himself with him at all times.

She runs to him and tells him the truth.

She fell in love with his father and married him. But when she gave birth to Steven, her insides burned the midwife's arms, nearly killing her. When the king learned this he banished his wife and raised her son as a dragon slayer.

Steve learns that while he can't change shape like Eddie and Mira, he cannot be hurt and he will live a long life. Maybe not as long as Eddie, but they have centuries instead of decades now.

The old king dies and the new king is kinder.All the kids like to go up to the mountain to play with the two strangers who protect their town.

And everyone lives happily ever after.

[angelxd-3303]

*jump scares you with lore art for my poppy playtime au*

I've been a fan of Poppy Playtime for awhile now, and it's kinda been my most recent hyperfixation.

In this au, the player is a former employee of playtime Co. named Patrick Desmond. He worked in the Game Station, caring for the children as they arrived. About a year into his employment, Patrick met a teacher from the Playcare named Lilith. The pair started working more closely after Patrick was promoted to a position in her school, started dating, and got married two years after meeting. (A healthy hetero couple???Nani??)

Some time later, a boy named Daniel Harvey came into the factory. He was orphaned at five years old, and was taken in by Playtime Co. He was meant to become a test subject; they intended to use him to create DogDay, but he was one of the lucky few to escape when Patrick and Lilith adopted him at 7.

Lilith sadly wound up losing her job at Playtime Co., when Miss Delight was created. She was heartbroken at leaving her students, but made the most of it by focusing on her adopted son, and her new life as a mother.

Patrick stayed at Playtime Co. for another four years. As time passed, he became more suspicious. Why did kids keep disappearing? Why was no one answering any questions? Everything came to a head when a child he was watching dropped her Mommy Longlegs toy, and Patrick was mortified to see blood spilling from between the plastic.

Following that incident, Patrick began scrutinizing Playtime Co. more closely. In a risky move, he snuck into his manager's office to investigate. He wound up finding papers describing the requirements for experiment test subjects. With that, he realized that all the rumors he'd heard over the years were true, that this childcare program was nothing more than a way for the company to gather subjects for their sick experiments.

Patrick made up his mind; he put in his two weeks notice. His boss wasn't happy, but Patrick was determined to muscle through the last weeks and leave this pit of a factory.

Now, as is canon, he called in sick on August 8th, 1995. The Hour of Joy. Daniel brought a cold home from school, and Patrick caught it. The next day, despite still being ill, Patrick tried to go to work. When he saw a flood of cop cars outside the factory, Patrick figured they'd been exposed for their crimes, turned tail and went straight home.

The police asked questions, of course, but since Lilith hadn't been there for years and Patrick had missed work that day, they had little reason to ask much of them. They still cooperated insofar as they could.

Ten years went by, and though Patrick had gotten a new job at a grocery store, Playtime Co. was always on his mind. The couple agreed that Danny was the only good that came from the situation, but Patrick could never shake the guilt. He had no idea what happened in the factory, or why he never saw any former employees around. Still, the guilt of leaving when there was clearly something going on lingered.

So when he received a vintage Poppy Playtime advertisement and a messily written plea to return, Patrick hardly thought twice.

Daniel, 17 now, had grown up with a loving but guilt ridden Patrick as his dad. He didn't know what exactly went down in the factory, but had memories of Playcare and the way he and the other kids were treated. He knew his dad felt guilty about leaving the factory, so when Patrick ran off without warning Danny knew exactly where he went.

Danny would be damned if he let his Dad go trudge through the painful memories of the past alone, so he went in after Patrick, facing what could have been his fate in his quest to find his father.

Lilith has her own demons regarding that factory, so she always held her husband back from returning. Her worst nightmare came to fruition when both her husband and son charged headlong right into the belly of the beast. Not willing to stand by while her family went down the drain, Lilith put aside her fear of Playtime Co. and went in after them.

So we have a man riddled with survivors guilt, a boy facing what his fate was meant to be, and a woman who knows more than she lets on...

Mayyybe a fic upcoming?? I'm still working on my Mario one, I promise. I've just hit a creative roadblock, so I'm gonna try to redirect to a different project and revisit it later to see if the flow returns. Sorry to keep you waiting!🙏

Let the games begin.

[nekohime19]

🌟Neko Shadowpeach Au Guide!🌟

I have so many Shadowpeach Au I can't even 😭

This post is mainly for me to organize myself bc I'm beginning to have a lot of ideas for Au, and a lot of Au in general and I need to write that somewhere or I'm gonna get lost, 😌.

But also it's to let you guys know about future Au I would probably write and see if you like them.

Of course if you guys have any questions about any of my Au's, even the unpublished one, feel free to ask, 😁.

alright here we go :

Published

Monkeys silly love life :

Summary : Macaque never met the great sage, nor the brotherhood, he simply lived like a hermit until his lantern was stolen by a thrall. He finds himself coming to Megapolis in search of his lantern, there he meets MK, his friends and one particularly insistent golden-furred monkey who seems keen on flirting with him despite the Lady Bone Demon taking over the world.

Fic : series of three fic on Ao3

Who said you can't flirt in an apocalypse?

Monkeys discovering the wide world of dating.

I know the world is ending but will you marry me?

Status : all fics completed

Vibe : fluff and humor

Heart behind the lie :

Summary : Sun Wukong's mind is severely damaged by the Lady Bone Demon's possession, leading him to act like a beast. Macaque being the only person he trusts in this state, he is designated as his babysitter. Macaque refuses at first but then finds himself needing magic to survive and decides to accept being a babysitter to better steal Sun Wukong's magic. He might became more attached than he planned for.

Fic : fic on Ao3 + being re-published on Tumblr with two chapters a day

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : emotional angst, feels and fluff

Publishing day : At least once a week

Tumblr tag (including fanarts /answers /memes /chapters) : Heart behind the lie

Mini Mac :

Summary : One day Sun Wukong discovers that a little black-furred monkey had been living in the walls of his stone mansion and decides to befriend him. Problem is, the little black-furred beauty is not keen on deepening his relationship with him, thus the sage has to gain his trust first.

Fic : one fic on Tumblr and Ao3

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff, humor and very light angst

Publishing day : Two to three chapters a week

Tumblr tag (including memes / answers / fanarts/chapters) : Mini Mac au

Bimawen :

Summary : What if Heaven actually gave weight to the title of Bimawen and treated Sun Wukong with respect, even if reluctant? Sun Wukong would have never gone on a rampage and quietly taken care of the horses. Years after Sun Wukong has taken his horsley duties Heaven found another celestial monkey, the Six-eared Macaque causing mayhem in the mortal world. The macaque is judged and if he wants to avoid his execution, he has to become the bimawen's assistant. The problem is the monkeys don't really like each other.

Fic : one on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff, humor and feels / JTTW oriented

Publishing day : Once to twice a month (often more bc I'm inspired)

Tumblr tag (including memes / fanarts / answers / chapters) : Bimawen au

Share my glow (co-writing with Pen-Women)

Summary : Macaque never met Wukong in his life. He is known as the Shadow Weaver, a mysterious entity who guides the one lost in the night. His lantern is the last artifact LBD needs to complete her mech and take over the world. When his forest is frozen by the Thrall he has no choice but to follow a troublesome team of heroes with a particularly flirty Monkey King.

Fic : one in Ao3

Status : uncompleted

Vibe : fluff and angst / ABO

Publishing day : Once a week (every Sunday)

AITA for sleeping with the guy my girlfriend is cheating on me with? :

Summary : A reddit style story with interactive comments about Wukong mess of a love life (and his gay awakening). Wukong learns his girlfriend is cheating on him so in an act of pettiness he confront the secret side boyfriend. What he didn't expect was to get along with Macaque and, after explaining the situation and discovering Macaque had no idea he was a side piece, to get hammered and sleep with him.

Fic : on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : completed (for now)

Vibe : crack and humor

Tumblr tag : AITA shadowpeach

Love Addicts :

Unpublished

Summary : After the end of season 5, Wukong realize that he doesn't have anything left to teach MK and feels... at the same time proud and sad. He looks back on his life and feels more alone than ever now that his student is stretching his wings.

Simultaneously, there is a strange door appearing in his room leading to a bar selling all kinds love potions. And Wukong thinks that, perhaps, a night of pleasure could help him feel less lonely. Somehow Macaque agree to this madness, and they both drink a potion that helps them forget their fight and heighten their senses, lasting for one night only.

They both didn't expect to enjoy that night so much.

Nor did they expect to come back for more

And now real feelings are getting involved.

Fic : on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : not completed

Vibe : smut and fluff and angst

Tumblr tag : love addicts au

So here is are my ideas for different Au's! Of course, bc those are still ideas in working, summaries might change a lil bit when I actually write them. Idk if I'll write them all though. They're classed from the one I want to write the most after I'm finished with Heart behind the lie and Mini Mac to ideas in passing.

Love rings true :

Summary : Sun Wukong took the throne of the Jade Emperor after the attack on Heavens orchestrated by the brotherhood. One day, Wukong gain a new jester, the most famous entertainer of the mortal realm : the Six-eared Macaque. Wukong becomes very enamored with his new jester but he doesn't know how to talk to him. As such he decides to approach him in an unusual way... He becomes a bell and spend the day at his jester's side, on his hat.

Fic : will be on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : unwritten / Planning this after Mini Mac

Vibe : fluff and humor

Pacific rim Au :

Summary : For a long time, Sun Wukong and Macaque were the best Rangers in the world. Their performance was flawless, their compatibility undeniable, they piloted the Shadowpeach as if it was a part of their own bodies. But after a particular incident, they were never able to pilot together again. Years after, Macaque is required to pilot with Wukong for one last time. One last mission. Maybe having the world on the line will push them both to rekindle what was once lost.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3 and Tumblr

Status : unwritten : fleshing out the lore

Vibe : feels and fluff, smut

Tumblr tag (including lore) : Shadowpeach pacific rim au

Monkey Cop Mania :

Summary : Both monkeys find themselves being transported to a movie-like dimension in which Sun Wukong is the insanely famous Monkey Cop and Macaque a world-wide known thief accused of murder. If they want to get back to their own dimension, they have to solve a murder and finish the movie's scenario. Problem is neither mystic monkeys turn out to be great detectives.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten

Vibe : Humor and feels

Once upon a monkey

Summary : various long one shots of shadowpeach being in different fairy tales.

How to bewitch the witch : Wukong is the prince of the Sun Kingdom and falls in love with the cruel sea witch, Macaque, while said witch was destroying his wedding with the mermaid prince, Azure. Once Azure returns to his kingdom and their wedding falls void, Wukong does everything in his power to court Macaque. Turns out, courting a sea witch is quite difficult.

The strongest of them all : Macaque is a magic mirror with the ability to hear past, present and future terribly in love with his owner, the King Sun Wukong. One day Sun Wukong learns that he's not the strongest anymore, but that he's step-son, MK, is. Macaque, after listening to the future, fears for his King and tries to better the relationship between MK and Wukong.

Fighting Beauty : Macaque is prince Sun Wukong personal guard, in charge of guarding him until his betrothed comes to rescue him from the sleeping spell casted upon him. Things get awkward when Macaque awakens Sun Wukong on his first night on duty. Sun Wukong, impatient as ever, decides to slay the dragon himself and not wait on his betrothed, Macaque is dragged in the quest despite himself.

Midnight Illusion : Macaque is at day the mistreated step-son of the Lady Bone Demon, and at night the leader of the most fearsome thieves of the Sun Kingdom. He's unfortunately caught by the royal guard in the middle of a thievery. He's given two choices by the Sun King himself : either spend the rest of his life in prison, or spy on his own step-mother while also pretending to be the Sun King betrothed. Naturally, he chose the second option.

The Mage and the Monkey : Sun Wukong is cursed by the wandering mage, Macaque, after refusing to give him shelter on a stormy night. He's now the Monkey King, and he'll stay in this beastly form as long as he cannot find true love, according to the Mage, at least. But Sun Wukong is not one to stay idle, he finds the Mage huts after a lot of searching, and bugs him everyday to undo the curse. Macaque is tempted to accept, only because Sun Wukong is getting annoying.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten / rough ideas really

Vibe : Humor and fluff and angst

Narcissist :

Summary : Sun Wukong was lonely. He felt like there was a wedge between him and the world, that no-one could ever understand him. Even his successor couldn't hope to breach his shell. Pushed by his loneliness, Wukong stole a forbidden book from the gods with the vilest spells written in it and bring his shadow to life.

Fic : unwritten / will be on Ao3

Status : unwritten / very rough idea

Vibe : angst, fluff and horror (Mac being an eldritch horror)

I'll add Au's to this guide if I have any more that I think of, but that's all for now.

[maybe-im-dark]

Embracing the beast

A short piece based on this post https://www.tumblr.com/maybe-im-dark/761522294450487296?source=share, where i share my theory that Logan is stronger in D&W because he has embraced his inner animal, after having witnessed the death of the X-Men

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

The attic of the abandoned house was dark, the smell of dust and decay filling the stale air. Logan crouched in the corner, his breaths ragged and uneven. It was the only place he could find where he could be alone, where he could escape the world that had taken everything from him. The X-Men were gone, wiped out by forces they had never seen coming, and in the aftermath, after killing everyone that came across his path, Logan had fled, running until his legs threatened to give out, until he could no longer feel the weight of what he had lost.

Now, he sat huddled in the shadows, his mind replaying the last moments—the screams, the blood, the faces of his friends twisted in pain. His own hands were stained red, blood from enemies and allies alike, and he could still feel the warmth of it, still smell the iron tang of death clinging to his skin. It was too much, too overwhelming. Everything he had tried to bury, everything he had tried to control, came crashing down on him all at once.

Logan gripped his head, claws partially unsheathed, and let out a choked, guttural growl. He was tired—tired of fighting, tired of trying to be something he wasn’t. There was a monster inside him, always had been, and he had spent his entire life trying to cage it, trying to be a man instead of the beast they had made him. But now, with nothing left to lose, what was the point? What was the point of pretending?

He slammed his fists against the wooden floor, his claws digging in, tearing gouges into the rotting wood. “Enough,” he muttered to himself, his voice raw and strained. “Enough.”

Logan’s body shook as he let go of the fear, the guilt, the pain. He closed his eyes and surrendered, allowing himself to fall into the darkness that had always lurked beneath the surface. The process was excruciating, every nerve in his body catching fire as he let the animal inside him come to life. He fell forward, muscles seizing, his back arching painfully as he dug his claws deeper into the floor.

“Let it go,” he whispered through gritted teeth, his voice barely more than a growl. “Let it all go.”

He bit down hard on his lower lip, tasting blood as it seeped into his mouth, mixing with the saliva that dripped from his fangs. His eyes rolled back, and for a moment, everything was chaos. The beast roared within him, surging forward, threatening to consume him whole. It was like a tidal wave crashing down, but instead of drowning, he rose with it. He didn’t resist. Instead, he surrendered, letting it wash over him, through him, around him.

And then, something changed. The animal didn’t take him over—it didn’t reduce him to a mindless killer, as he had always feared. It merged with him, filling every crack, every broken piece, every scar he carried, until he was no longer just Logan, or just the beast, but something more. Something whole.

His breathing slowed, and the world came into sharper focus. He could hear everything—the creak of the house settling, the faint rustle of leaves outside, the distant hum of life miles away. His heart thumped steadily in his chest, and he felt… calm.

For the first time in years, there was no inner conflict, no voice in the back of his mind whispering that he was nothing but a weapon. There was just him. Complete.

Logan lay still for a moment, the world around him fading into the background as he adjusted to this new sensation, this sense of being. He could feel the power coursing through his veins, the primal energy that had always been there but had never felt so… right. When he finally opened his eyes, they glowed a bright, piercing yellow for a heartbeat, then faded back to their usual dark hue.

Slowly, he rose to all fours, feeling the raw strength in his limbs, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. He tilted his head back and let out a deep, rumbling roar that shook the rafters, a sound that spoke of pain, of rage, of a lifetime spent running from what he was.

But he wasn’t running anymore.

Logan stood there for a moment, feeling the vibrations of his own roar echoing through his chest, before a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t a smile of joy or happiness. It was a smile of acceptance, of defiance, of power.

He needed to move, needed to feel the wind against his face, the ground beneath his feet. He needed to hunt. The world could burn for all he cared, and maybe, just maybe, he’d be the one to set it ablaze.

“Time to have some fun,” he muttered, his voice rough and low. With that, he slipped out of the attic

[kurosstuff]

✨ Dragon Sera x GN Monster Hunter reader with these prompts:

6.) Accidentally wandering into dangerous territory during a mating season. Getting "hunted" by a monster who redeemed you as a suitable mate

"Slow down~? Little ___(human/monster type) you walked in during mating season ~ not stopping till your filled~"

4.) "Stop fucking moving~ just gonna claim you as my mate~ make you rightfully mine~"

Have a good day/night and Thanks!

OO~ interesting combos~;)

Also sorry I haven't been feeling to well- and busy with life-

Warning(s): feral Sera, BUT- not? Idk, mating season, knotting, ifk just- smut, not so nice sera at first(blame it on the season/hj), afab reader, blood/violence

Dragon! Sera x monster hunter!reader: "my mate"

Being a monster hunter meant you were strong. Resourceful. Able to detect things easily. BUT. That's not always the case. Given how your a recently appointed monster hunter. On your first mission. To scout out an area. How animals, people and even other monsters have gone missing.

You shuddered at the thought. Of how terrifying that thought is. Walking around, more, you grumbled softly, knowing one person you could ask if you could find hrr. Sera. A kind dragon lady you met years ago- you weren't sure how you befriended her. Especially given her higher rank status- that of a Queen in human terms. Even more surpised with how rarely she let a human see her.

But during this time. She'd run off. Hiding somewhere. You assumed she was hibernating - maybe like a bear? In a way-?

Grumbling, the more you walked, the less you noticed the towering figure stalking you closely. Watching your every move

A roar was heard, turning you went to grab your sword to defend yourself as the very beast you hunted for came charging. Claws outstretched as you paled. You were too late. You didn't notice the monster close to wrapped up in your thoughts - tearing up, you didn't expect your last moments would be like this

But it wasn't at all surpise. After all you are a Monster Hunter.

A deep snarl echoed loudly behind you. Before you could look- fhe very monster any other hunter went after fell- bloodied unmoving. Your now with an even more dangerous monster behind you. From the sudden abrupt shade from the sun.

It's tall. Towering over you, easily shielding you from the sun. The monster that was once cocky- eager to fight now, shaking bowing in submission to whatever. Whoever is behind you. A deep, loud echoing snarl sounded right above you. Glancing up, you couldn't help but flinch'

That- can't be Sera. Sera has a kind smile always no matter the situations. But here she was. Snarling down, baring her fangs, snarling at the creature that wanted to eat you. You've never seen her this mad. This irrated. Not since.. you swallowed tense, hoping your movements didn't cause her rage to turn to you. A clawed hand of hers landed on your armored shoulder. A deep snarl escaped her once more, never leaving the monsters gaze.

"They. Are. MY. Human."

She finally spoke. Snarling out her tail swishing as if she herself was offended from what the monster attempted. What they clearly wanted from you. You tensed up more- but you couldn't help but flush. Hers? You're hers? With a blink of your eyes, you don't even know what happened. But now- the demon laid in its blood her free clawed hand bloodied dripping od their injury as they shook sobbing, attempting to beg for Seras' forgiveness. For her help

But Sera is anything bur forgiving.

Turning she ushered you away- you weren't even sure what was going on. Where you were being taken. Million thoughts running through your head until you blinked. Finally realizing- your jn her cave. Infront of her nest.

A deep snarl escaped her as she towered over you once more. Almost like some wild feral beast rather than the calm, kind woman you're used to. Shakily with a smile, you waved awkwardly. "s-sera~ hi~ are you.. ok?" Careful to not alarm her as she watched you.

Before she began to move. Towards you. Getting closer and closer yet you couldn't will yourself tp move. Was she hungry? No. Even if she was shed never hurt you- she told you herself. But that look in her eyes. That must be hunger. But if she willingly came to you in such a state.

What was she hungry for?

"You" she spoke with a start. Watching you carefully her tail flickering impatient. Which that- was also Odd. Sera is the most patient woman you've ever met. She has waited a month for your very response on forming a friendship with her. But now- she isn't. Like you were supposed to be aware. But your not

"I want you." She cut you off from the clear question you were about to ask."I want to breed you. Claim you. God's above, I wanted you from the very second I saw you." Gently ever so carefully, she cradled your face, panting heavily. That's when you realized. The clear signs.

The warnings.

It's mating season-

"Sera- i- are you-" with a nod she pushed against your front- the huge tent in her outfit pushed against your stomach as a clear sign

"I dreamed of this, my darling human." She spoke soft like she always does for you "I am on my rut. I can not be as gentle as I wanted our first to be." She hummed rubbing your cheeks softly "I can control myself right now. So I ask. Will you give me the honor of mating you? Claiming you?' She spoke softly- twitching against you as a soft purr escaped her

"You may refuse. I will never force you to spend this with me" she spoke up, seeing your confusion. Your inner debates "I will be honored with either way. I can control myself until you give an answer, but my darling, " she cooed, dragging your chin to face up at her "If you said yes. I would absolutely devore you. Unable to contain myself. I would be unruling- the effects of the season would put me in a way I never wished to be with you.. rough" she cooed smiling watching your flushed face

And to her normal standards she did wait. Making no moves whatsoever as hee crotch grew tighter. Feeling her dick twitch against your stomach as she easily ignored her impulses as she patiently waited your response

"Yes i.. I want you" you whispered, agreeing to her request. Not even needing to long to give the answer- after all. This is your Sera. You trusted her.

Didnt take long for her to get you in her arms. Eagerly pushing you onto her nest- she didn't even wait for you to strip your armor. Quickly, she leaned down. "Wait-!" You started before she growled shredding your metal armor as if to her it was paper. But it wasn't. She was purely showing you her strength. How easy it is to shred through the metal designed to protect humans from her. But it wasn't to scare you. It was to woe you. Showing how eager she was to breed you.

To have you as hers. That she can't even contain her excitement- from how you spread your legs without any hesitation for her- shredding her own clothes showing how hard her long- thick cock was for you- "gonna make do with my promise-" she snarled a deep purr of excitement came out as she lined herself up with your entrance- rubbing her tip on your entrance "Don't worry- I'll be slow~" slowly pushing into you- eagerly praising you- showering you in kisses- drying your tears with her lips in her wake.

"Doing good~ so good~"

The glimpse of the normal Sera. As if ahe slipped through the cracks of.. this Version. Of her on her rut. You smiled tearfully as she easily- slipped into you fully fitting herself all the way inside- how she managed from her sheer length and size? Was a mystery to you.

With a laugh, she shoved herself fully into you, pounding roughly biting any skin she could get too snarling. "Slow down~? Little human~ you walked in during mating season ~ not stopping till your filled~" she cooed in your ear, her unrelenting pace getting faster as she tail thumped excitedly at the thought of filling you up - claiming her prize "filled with me. My seed~ dripping of my cum~" she snarled out purring loudly

Not like you wanted to know - not with her finally inside. Slowly, she moved inside you, groaning loudly. A low moan escaped you both as she slowly tried to get you used to the feeling of her all the way in. Claiming you in all ways. "Fuck~" you choked out, clawing at the nest. So far gone, she quickly pounded into you "wait~ wait, sera!" You choked gasping under her, tearing up "s-slow- slow down~ "Not - not used to -" you choked, being cut off by her lips roughly kissing you

Yelping, you whined, arching your back off the ground, your pleas for her to slow down fell on deaf ears as you clawed her back crying out her name making her coo amazed leaning back to watch you fall apart on her cock. Staring at your shredded armor how it held little together- outshun from the markings she left on your skin.

"Can't even talk~?" She teased- it was so unlike her. How cruel she's being- how she practically hunted you. And now roughly mating you- choking out a moan rubbing her neck hearing the familiar purrs you gasped loudly around her

"Y-your ruts hitting you hard huh?" Shakily pulling her down kissing her- which she eagerly met. Claiming your lips biting them roughly yet mindful of her fangs. "G-go ahead~ take what you need ok~?"

That was all she needed to hold you rougher as if to stop you from moving your hips up into her' to claim you how she wanted to. How she eagerly pleased with you.

"Stop fucking moving~ just gonna claim you as my mate~ make you rightfully mine~" she snarled out panting over your grabbing your legs bending you so she could pound deeper into you rougher "fuck~ been dreaming of this~" she confessed watching your every move. How you arched your back cumming around her cock again qnd again how she fucked you dragged out rounds upon rounds. Not once making you milk her.

After all? How could it be fair for her to chase after her sweet release when her beloved mate deserves such a thing first?

And like any good mate. Sera wanted to make sure you were drunk off her cock first- glancing down watching how your slick- your cum made her shine more imprinting on her skin making it getting harder to pull out

"Think you can take my knot?" She cooed out watching you drunkenly nod a completely sobbing mess under her making her smirk smug. Gently pinching your sides pounding faster into you with a deep snarl hearing you beg for her- her instincts telling her to properly breed you-

To claim you as hers- licking her lips, watching you holding the nest under you, she hummed, "Brace yourself~" she growled our nuzzling your bitten bloodied neck from her- before finally pushing deep inside you- easily slipping her knot in before releasing- painting your insides with her cum- snarling loudly feeling how you squeezed around her tighter as If truly wanting to milk her dry-

Groaning her tail twitched, wagging slightly in content, kissing your tearfully face all over purring "that's a good mate~" she praised "taking my knot so well~" chirping loudly above you as she carefully laid on you smiling gently at how you slumped exhausted from the long round with her.

"Allow me to care for you after~? I'll clean you then.. I'll mate you again~" she cooed rubbing the marks she doesn't even remember making on your skin. "I'll be gentle~ soft. A soft slow love making~ a gentle mating session" she cooed out happily.

With a whine you sighed- that's the Sera you knew. The soft and gentle woman she was known for. Swallowing you nodded to tired to speak. Knowing- it's gonna be a very long night ahead of you

[alphynix]

Crystal Palace Field Trip Part 3: Walking With Victorian Beasts

[Previously: the Jurassic and Cretaceous]

The final section of the Crystal Palace Dinosaur trail brings us to the Cenozoic, and a selection of ancient mammals.

Image from 2009 by Loz Pycock (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Originally represented by three statues, there are two surviving originals of the Eocene-aged palaeotheres depicting Plagiolophus minor (the smaller sitting one) and Palaeotherium medium (the larger standing one).

The sitting palaeothere unfortunately lost its head sometime in the late 20th century, and the image above shows it with a modern fiberglass replacement. Then around 2014/2015 the new head was knocked off again, and has not yet been reattached – partly due to a recent discovery that it wasn't actually accurate to the sculpture's original design. Instead there are plans to eventually restore it with a much more faithful head.

These early odd-toed ungulates were already known from near-complete skeletons in the 1850s, and are depicted here as tapir-like animals with short trunks based on the scientific opinion of the time. We now think their heads would have looked more horse-like, without trunks, but otherwise they're not too far off modern reconstructions.

There was also something exciting nearby:

The recently-recreated Palaeotherium magnum!

This sculpture went missing sometime after the 1950s, and its existence was almost completely forgotten until archive images of it were discovered a few years ago. Funds were raised to create a replica as accurate to the original as possible, and in summer 2023 (just a month before the date of my visit) this larger palaeothere species finally rejoined its companions in the park.

Compared to the other palaeotheres this one is weird, though. Much chonkier, wrinkly, and with big eyes and an almost cartoonish tubular trunk. It seems to have taken a lot of anatomical inspiration from animals like rhinos and elephants, since in the mid-1800s odd-toed ungulates were grouped together with "pachyderms".

———

Next is Anoplotherium, an Eocene even-toed ungulate distantly related to modern camels.

(Apparently the sculpture closest to the water is a replica of a now-lost original, recreated from photo references in the same manner as the new Palaeotherium magnum. I can't find a definite reference for when this one was done, though – I'd guess probably during the last round of major renovations in the early 2000s, at the same time as the now-destroyed Jurassic pterosaur replicas?)

Anoplotherium commune is a rather obscure species today, but it was one of the first early Cenozoic fossil mammals to be recognized by science in the early 1800s. Depicted here as small camel-like animals, the three statues are positioned near the water's edge to reflect the Victorian idea that they were semi-aquatic based on their muscular tails.

Today we instead think these animals were fully terrestrial, using their tails to balance themselves while rearing up to reach higher vegetation. Their heads would also have looked a bit less camel-like, but otherwise the Crystal Palace trio are still really good representations.

———

Next is a sculpture that's very easy to miss in the current overgrown state.

Who's that peeking over the bushes?

Going all the way around to the far side of the lake reveals a distant glimpse of the Pliocene-to-Holocene giant ground sloth Megatherium.

A better view of the Megatherium | "Tree Hugger" by Colin Smith (CC BY-SA 2.0)

Fossils of Megatherium americanum had been known since the late 1700s, but the 1854 Crystal Palace statue was still one of the first life reconstructions of this animal. Its anatomy is actually very close to our modern understanding, depicted with correctly inward-turned feet and sitting upright to feed on a tree with its tail acting as a "tripod".

However, we now know it didn't have a trunk-like nose, but instead probably had prehensile lips more like those of a modern black rhino.

Something weird also appears to have happened to the Crystal Palace Megatherium's hands. Early illustrations of the sculpture all consistently show it with the typical long claws of a sloth, but today it's missing its right hand and its left has only a strangely stumpy paw – suggesting that at some point in the intervening 170 years there was an unrecorded crude repair.

———

And finally we end the trail with three Megaloceros, the Pleistocene-to-Holocene "Irish Elk" that's actually neither exclusively Irish nor an elk.

A closer look at the second stag and the doe.

There was originally a fourth giant deer sculpture in this herd, a second resting doe, but it was destroyed sometime during the mid-20th century. The stags also initially had real fossil antlers attached to their heads, but these were removed and replaced with less accurate versions at some point by the mid-20th century.

One of the stags' antlers suffered some damage in 2020, ending up drooping, and since then one antler has either fallen off or been removed.

In the 1850s Megaloceros giganteus was thought to be closely related to deer in the genus Cervus, and so the Crystal Palace reconstructions seem to be based on modern wapiti – specifically in their winter coats, fitting for ice age animals – since both the stags and the doe sport distinctive thick neck manes.

The stags from the other side.

We now know Megaloceros was actually much more closely related to modern fallow deer, and so probably resembled them more than wapiti. Cave art also shows that it had a hump on its shoulders, and even gives us an idea of what its coloration was.

———

…But wait!

There's actually one more thing.

A small statue sitting on the far side of the deer herd, missing its ears, and seemingly representing a Megaloceros fawn.

Except it's actually something very different and very special.

Ceci n'est pas un cerf.

Some recent investigation work revealed some surprising information about the Crystal Palace mammal statues – much like the nearly-forgotten large Palaeotherium, there was originally an entire group of four small Eocene-aged llama-like Xiphodon gracilis that had disappeared from living memory.

There was also no historic record of a fawn with the giant deer, but instead a suspiciously similar-looking sitting sculpture is illustrated among what we now known are the four missing Xiphodon in early records.

An 1853 illustration of the sculpture workshop. The four Xiphodon are shown in the center, directly in front of a Megaloceros stag and doe. (public domain)

Somewhere in the late 19th or early 20th century three of the Xiphodon must have been completely lost, and the remaining individual was misidentified as a fawn and placed with the giant deer herd.

———

Rediscovering a whole extra species among the Crystal Palace statues is exciting, but it also demonstrates just how much of these sculptures' history has gone completely undocumented. 

The mammal statues especially seem to have suffered the most out of the "Dinosaur Court", being often overlooked, neglected, disrespected (at one point the Megatherium was inside a goat pen in a petting zoo!), and subjected to cruder repairs. A total of five original statues are now known to be missing from this Cenozoic section – the original large Palaeotherium, the three other Xiphodon, and the second Megaloceros doe – compared to the two pterosaurs lost from the Mesozoic island.

Hopefully the excellent recreation of the lost Palaeotherium magnum is the start of a long overdue new lease of life and conservation attention for all of the Crystal Palace sculptures. It was disappointing seeing them all in such an overgrown state, and with signs of ongoing disrepair in places such as the plant growing out of the big ichthyosaur's back.

But there has been some resurgence of interest and public attention in the Crystal Palace sculptures over the last few years, so with any luck these historic pieces of early paleoart will survive on to their 200th anniversary and beyond, to keep on reminding us of where things began and how far our understanding of prehistoric life has since come.

[wystericwoes]

Sukuna x reader Drabble

implied smut/fifthly language

A Drabble I just thought of where sukuna spews pure gutter filth into yuujis ears about all his sexual fantasies. Since sukuna can’t actually do anything about it, he’s gonna make it everyone’s problem as well.

GN reader, cursing, vulgar language and partial smut/dirty talk but nothing physically happens

Something about you particularly had him riled up though…

You had just transferred as a new teacher and you were just so cute.

“Go on, keep looking at that sweet ass. It’s nice isn’t it?”

Yuuji suddenly drops his pencil during lecture and you turn around just for him to get so flustered he can’t look you in the eyes as you so sweetly ask what’s wrong.

“Ha. Perv.”

Sometimes you would hear Yuuji muttering to himself, he was an odd but good kid so you gave him the benefit of the doubt, plus he had gone through so much..

Little did you know if not for yuuji a demented beast would have taken you by now.

Anytime you walked by him in the halls, you were so blissfully unaware- and sukuna found that absolutely fucking delicious.

“Did you see the way their nipples were poking through that shirt?Just imagine biting down on them, I want to suck on them until their crying from the sensation. Until theyre battered and bruised.”

One day you were in training gear, tight shorts and a tank top sparring with the other teachers as demonstration to the students

Poor yuuji had to sit there helplessly as Sukuna forced his eyes into your legs. The sweat dripping down your legs leaving them glistening like stars in the sun, heaving breaths and flushed face.

“That’s gonna be how they look when they’re fucked out., drunk on my cock.”

Yuuji had to look away and shut his eyes. He respected you, and he didn’t appreciate the devil in his ear speaking profanities about his superior, someone he admired and looked up to.

One particular move you did left your legs spread and little to the imagination. He could see the shape of you perfectly, the curvature of your ass into the place between your legs, the way your body was so hot your clothes were stuck to it like magnets.

“I’d have to tear those off. When you get that worked up and sweaty clothes are a bitch to remove.”

Sukuna manifested a physical mouth onto yuujis face, and as quickly as it happened yuuji slapped his hand on it which created such a loud SMACK sound that everyone turned over to him

“aH! Sorry! Mosquitos..!”

He tried laughing it off as his peers looked at him strangely.

Everyone had seen a change in his behavior.

But specifically you, had noticed the most- considering he was totally and completely avoiding you. Had you done something wrong?

Yuujis walking to the dorms when he’s intercepted by the last person he needs to be alone with.

You’re all flushed because you had just gotten back from a mission. The sun was setting and it perfectly made you skin glow.

“Hey Yuuji, I was hoping I’d run into you I wanted to talk with you. Do you have a minute?”

He visibly gulped as sukuna began to whisper profanities into yuujis head

“Maybe that teacher x student fantasy porn you watched might come true!” He said mockingly

Everything you said flew over his head as he awkwardly smiled

“And I guess what I’m saying is you can always talk to me. These years in your life are important and I care about you, yeah? You’ve already gone through more than anyone else should especially at your age-“

“Give me 10 minutes and I’ll have them creaming all over my cock. I might even let you watch since you’re such a disgusting desperate pervert.”

Then all his thoughts were silent when you placed a hand on his shoulder

“Yuuji?”

He had been spaced out and was just staring intently at your face

“Huh? O-oh… yeah sure thing!”

He tried to turn around and leave

“Wait!”

He cowered and awkwardly turned his head around to you.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Sorry… guess I didn’t catch it… haha…….”

“I said, are you ready for our mission tomorrow?”

You said with such a cute smile and a chuckle

Fuuuccckkkkkkk

All night he spent tossing and turning trying to get any semblance of sleep as sukuna tormented his poor mind.

“Did you see the way that shirt squeezed everything? I bet they know what they’re doing. How long do you think it’s been since they’ve had a good dicking do you think?”

Yuuji held a pillow over his face and audibly groaned into it

“Shut up pleaseee! I’ll do anything at this point.”

He shouldn’t have said that.

“Except let you take over!”

Sukuna scoffed.

The next day sukuna was saying words yuuji didn’t even know. (Or WANT to find out.)

What the hell was “reverse cowgirl” or a “facial” …?

You two were sent on a mission to fight a high grade curse, this mission was really to see what Yuuji was capable of, and to have someone strong like you to stay with him in case things went wrong. You volunteered, hoping to get to know yuuji better and maybe fix this weird tension between you two. You hoped he didn’t secretly hate you, he was clearly avoiding you

You two walked through the remains of a building, it was dark with the exception of streaks of light poking through holes in the ceiling and walls.

The fight was harder than you thought. The curse ended up being special grade. That’s what you get for letting gojo brief you on a mission-

Yuuji was struggling to keep up, and several times you had to get in the way of him taking a blow while also guiding him on what to do.

This was supposed to be an in an out thing to help yuuji use his cursed energy, you were supposed to be there just to keep watch.

No one was coming, you were weakened, and yuujis head wasn’t on right.

“Yuuji! Focus!!” You put your forearms up to eat another blow from the curse

He was spacing in and out… one second he would be responsive and the next he would be totally out of it.

Was he high? No way. He’s a good kid, right?

You had whipped your head around to grab yuujis attention again but in that split second, your instincts were dull as you grew tired and the curse landed a heavy blow right into your ribs.

You were knocked onto the ground as all the air left your lungs and you tasted a metallic sting in your mouth.

Shit.

Note to self- when gojo says “a light and easy mission, basically a baby could do it.” He’s referring to how it feels to him, and not the average sorcerer.

You were left on your knees, one arm desperately clinging to your injured side as you tried shakily to get up

You knew that was the end of it for you until you could get to some place safe to heal yourself. You didn’t have much time to react before the curse tried to land another blow on you, luckily yuuji blocked it.

“Yuuji… we need sukuna.”

That sure as hell woke him up from whatever daze he was stunned in

“What?!” He shouted at you and whipped his head around

“I can’t help you right now and you can’t help me! I’m making an executive decision here!”

“What about what goj-“

“Fuck Gojo!”

He was taken aback by your sudden bluntness.

“I know! I know what he said. That arrogant asshole doesn’t think enough! I’ll take the blame, just do it!”

You were desperate as blood dribbled from your mouth between desperate breaths.

You tried not to blame yuuji for this but you were at your wits end. Worst case scenario Sukuna hurts you, but you know he would still kill the curse in the end. and you really just wanted the people around you safe. There were civilians outside- and if you and yuuji were immobilized who knew how long it would take for help to come? How long would that curse be free roaming?

Yuuji gave you a fleeting glance and almost an apologetic look as you watched him close his eyes and begin to morph into something else…

His eyes shifted from sweet to sadistic. Black markings appeared all over his body. With a deep breath inward he went into hyper focus and with inhuman speed began to attack the curse

His movements were sharp and wild. Like an animal

You could barely keep up with him watching the way he dodged hits just as quick as he attacked

Your body began to succumb to its injuries as the last of adrenaline from your fight pumped itself out of your system.

You collapsed onto the floor half conscious. The room was spinning

I guess you had taken more blows than you thought.

You watched as two yuujis stood above you.

Your vision was going in and out of focus as you felt strong arms lift you effortlessly

“It���s so nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

He said with a sick grin.