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jreads · 2 years ago

Text

Unexpected Constellations (Part 14)

Rating: No crazy stuff

Word Count: 6.8K

Warnings: Warnings: Angst, Mentions of blood, Canon-level violence, Dark themes, Foul language, Din being a cutie

A/N: Sorry I pushed this back for so long! It was giving me such grief but I think I am okay with posting it now. I was overwhelmed with the love from the previous part and I am so so happy that everyone liked it. As it stands, this is the penultimate part! As always, comment on this post or the masterlist to get added to the taglist. So much love 🤍

Waking up next to him was bliss. Your body felt tired and achy and sore, but his head was resting on your chest, curls tickling your chin, body pressed possessively against your own. Breathing even. It was so new to see him like this, and it had quickly become one of your favourite things. You ran fingers through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp and his sleepy groan was so deep that it might have been a purr.

“You’re so beautiful.” It sort of slipped out. You were becoming loose lipped around him.

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.” Maker, and his voice. Rich like sweet candy.

He huffed into your skin, arms tightening around you like a band.

You stilled your fingers in his hair. “You don’t believe me?”

No answer. But he lifted his head, brows raising quizzically, eyes still heavy with sleep. It was impossible. Intolerable.

“I mean… Have you looked at yourself?”

Din answered too matter-of-factly. “Yes. In the fresher sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“I don’t look at my reflection a lot.”

“Why not?”

He seemed to get fed up with your line of questioning, collapsing back against you and nuzzling into your stomach to avoid an answer. But you weren’t letting it go so easily.

“You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“I think you’re biased.” He kissed your navel.

You tried to ignore the flutter that went through you. “I think you’re insufferable.”

He pressed you to the bed then, hovering over you just slightly. “I guess you’ll have to suffer then. You’re stuck with me now.”

Snarky, gorgeous, unbelievable. “Can’t imagine how I’m ever going to survive—”

“Shut up.” He captured your laugh in a kiss, slow and sensual and lazy, and you lost yourself in it. You let him guide your wrists above your head, where he pinned them with a broad palm. You let him trail the other hand down your side, over the curve of your waist.

You let him, you let him, you let him.

It took the both of you far too long to make it out of Boba’s guest suite. Din had even quipped about him starting to charge rent. But eventually, and quite unfortunately, you were reminded that a galaxy existed outside of each other, and that you needed to get back to it.

Din had only told you about the Imp that morning, reluctantly. And perhaps that was lucky, because if you had known earlier, there was little chance you would have been able to sleep let alone focus on anything else. Focus on Din.

But you knew now.

What Din had done wasn’t lost on you. He could have killed the man himself; he had had plenty of time while you were still unconscious. He could have drawn it out, made it bloody. You knew he enjoyed that sometimes… when given the right circumstances… when the victim was deserving. But he had captured him instead, left him alive. Not just so you could kill him yourself if you pleased, but because he knew you needed closure. Thus, the day’s responsibilities would be far from easy and would also take some time.

A quick comm chat with Peli had ended with the lady practically demanding that she take Grogu to a podrace, and that if you two were early to Mos Eisley this evening, you ‘would just have to park your asses down in the hangar and wait.’ It was so good to hear the child’s coos from the other end of the line, though it only eased your trepidation by a fraction.

“You don’t have to do this.” Din’s presence was unyielding behind you as you made your way down darkened sandstone steps. “Say the word, and I can—”

You silenced the rest of his sentence, stopping abruptly on the staircase and spinning on him. A step above, he towered over you. Ever the protector. ��As much as I’m sure you’d love to…” You rose onto the tips of your toes and caressed the indents in his helmet. “…I have to handle this myself.”

He nodded once. “I’ll be here. If you need anything—” Before he could finish, another voice sounded from behind you.

“You’re awake. I was getting worried.”

It was enough to make you reconsider the rest of the descent into the Rancor’s cave. Truthfully, you might have preferred coming face-to-face with the Rancor instead. Powerless. You had to remind yourself. He has no power here. Over you. Over anything.

With a shaky breath, you reached the bottom of the pit, advancing on a menacing portcullis. Though he was silent, you knew Din followed.

He was grasping onto the gate bars with white knuckles. He looked a sight. Usually pristine Imperial uniform now torn and singed, he was covered in dirt and dried blood. A nasty gash had crusted over on the top of his head, staining his hair. You wondered who had done it. Your money was on Boba. If it had been Din, he wouldn’t have stopped there.

“Leaving you alone with two Mandalorians and a bounty hunter?” He scoffed, as if the idea were preposterous. “Their kind are ravagers. I’m relieved you’re alright.”

To act as if he was concerned about your well-being at all was almost insulting. What was worse was the assumption that the ones who had cared for you would have put you in harm’s way. A reversal of roles… a projection.

You tried to summon an air of phony assertiveness, though your hands were shaking. Fear? Anxiety? Rage? It was anyone’s guess. “Here’s how this is going to work. You don’t insult my friends. In fact, don’t speak unless you’re answering a question. Are we clear?”

He seemed to pay you no mind. “Look at you! So confident. Perhaps those years apart were a blessing in disguise.” He seemed comfortable, assured even, but his knuckles, blanched against the gate metal, gave him away.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you… what you did in that control room. It was amazing. Magnificent.”

The control room? When you knocked him out?

“I always knew you had it in you.” His eyes were glazing over with some sort of sick admiration. “Your master would be so proud.”

The control room. The water, the cables. The electricity. Oh. Stars. He thought you had summoned lightning.

“I don’t… I didn’t.” You suddenly felt the need to defend yourself. Not to him, but to the man behind you. The one you were trying to convince that you were good. The one you were trying to convince yourself that you were deserving of.

“You don’t need to be afraid.” His smile made you feel sick, whatever calm mask you had put in place quickly slipping. “This is what you were meant for. Don’t you see? Everything we—” He was quick to correct himself. “Everything they did was for this… And look how strong you are now.” Dirty fingers reached past the bars, grasping for you. You stumbled back into Din’s chest.

He ran a hand over you side, squeezing at your hip, barely a featherlight touch but grounding nonetheless. You breathed a few times, timing your inhales with the rise and fall of his chest.

However, the Imp was now surveying the Mandalorian with a repulsed expression. Looking from him to you… and back again. He sneered. “Wow, really?” He waited, as if for an answer. “You could conquer worlds, topple governments. The galaxy would bow at your feet.” That petulant entitlement had found its way back into his cadence. “Is this what you’d throw it all away for? A trivial romance?” Disgust dripped from his words. “You could be a god.”

When you broke his eye contact, he turned to Din instead. “And you could be rich.”

“I’m not interested in credits.” There was a sharp edge in his modulated voice, a promise of violence.

“No, I’m sure you’re not. It’s power you’re after.” The hatred between the two men hung so thick in the air that it was starting to suffocate. “What is it? Planning on using her to retake your home world?” Din stilled. “Who would dare to stand against you with a Sith at your side?”

“Enough.” Your tone was sharp, but not sharp enough.

“How long has it been since your people have even seen Mandalore? Set foot on the scorched soil? I wonder what they’ll find beneath its surface.” His tone was all too knowing. Din’s mind roared like a wildfire behind you.

“I said enough.” Your raised voice finally seemed to break their murderous concentration on one another. “You don’t get to ask questions. But you can answer mine.”

His energy changed immediately. “Anything you want to know. I’ve only ever been honest with you.” A flicker of a glare over your shoulder. “But your bodyguard will have to leave.”

You could feel Din reach for his blaster. No, not the blaster… that was on the other side of his hip.

You spun, a hand on his own to halt him. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” There was a beat of silence as he considered. Rage, violence, bloodlust. This wasn’t Din; there was nothing of the man you knew in him. This was The Mandalorian.

“You don’t open the gate; you stay away from the bars.” His voice was hushed, steady, lethal. “He tries anything, or you sense anything, you call for me.” You nodded. Still, he hesitated.

“I’ve got this.” You ran a thumb under the edge of his glove, over the soft skin of his inner wrist. Over the pulse point. It was jumping rapidly, a sign of him. “Go.”

With what you could tell was one more glance at the man behind you, he turned, footfalls heavy, and made his way back up the steps. Before he could disappear from sight, the man spoke.

“Good. Now we can stop pretending.” You knew Din had heard it. He was egging him on. Did he not understand that you were the only thing stopping Din from shoving the saber through his throat? Or maybe that was the whole point.

Without Din’s protective presence, you instantly felt more unpredictable. You needed a moment to calm, recenter yourself. You paced in a circle. However, the Imp had other plans.

“So, this is the company you’re keeping nowadays? Bounty hunters and criminals?”

Focus. Don’t get carried away.

“You understand it, right? They’re not on our level. Nowhere near it. Completely inferior. I suppose it’s my own fault for letting you go.”

Letting you go. As if you hadn’t tried to remove his head from his shoulders in your fight for an escape pod.

“Won’t you say something? As much as I’m glad you’re okay, I’m not overly fond of the hospitality here and would like for us to get going as soon as possible.”

What?

“You think I’m going anywhere with you?” You practically hissed it. Only once he smiled did you realize you had given him what he wanted… engagement.

His head tilted. “Aren’t you? What life do you have here, amongst the rabble?”

You have one. You have one. A place, a purpose.

“Don’t you remember?” You hate his smile. You could slice lines up his face, from the corners of his mouth to his hairline. “You were made to serve.”

There’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop the onslaught of memories, the mere utterance of those words enough to shake them loose. Even through the haze of repression.

You’re shaking, so weak that you can barely keep your head from drooping. Your hands are tied with binders to the ceiling, so high that you have to rise on your toes to release the strain from your shoulder. A rib might be broken, maybe two. Not that it mattered; the droid would patch you up anyway. It always did, after every round, over and over and over…

“Let me go.” It was a pathetic wheeze, croaky and quiet.

Two of the men leer. “Sorry? What was that?” One caresses your face before rearing back and throwing a fist. You’ve numbed to the pain a bit, but you still feel the sharp sting of your own teeth cutting into the inside of your cheek. You lose purchase on the floor and hang, the impact brutal on your shoulders.

“Please.” You would beg, on your knees if you needed to. “Please, let me go.”

He’s there. Lifting your head with an iron grip on your chin. “And where would you go, dear?”

You have no ship, you can’t fly, your knowledge of planets is minimal. You have nowhere to go.

“What life could you have outside of this?”

Your head is throbbing. You might pass out.

“This is your purpose. You were made to serve. Don’t ever forget that.”

Your vision goes black.

Perhaps it’s because you were squeezing your eyelids shut, trying so hard to block out the vivid recollection. You shook your head like a crazed person, grabbing at your scalp. Like you could feel the pain. The pounding ache of having been hit too many times. Oh maker, the pain.

Breathe. You’re out. Din’s just outside the stairwell. Listen. You can hear his heartbeat. He’s right there. Breathe with him.

He was solid as a stone when you sensed him, leaned against the wall. You wondered if he could hear—probably not. You could remember what it was like to kiss him, feel his skin against your own, his hair, trace the angles of his jaw. It was so recent, so fresh. Not like the other memories. You could forget the agony, replace it with pleasure. Softness and warm pressure.

Your eyes opened in their natural hue. The Imp was clapping, a slow, sharp staccato. “Impressive. Is that a Jedi technique? Does it help to play pretend?”

Get the info. Get it done and get out. You took another deep breath.

“You answer my questions, or I walk.”

He didn’t reply, just assessed you. It wasn’t a yes, but it also wasn’t a no. But you could feel that he wanted to answer—or rather, he wanted to talk—but either way, he didn’t want you to leave. It was beyond unsettling.

“Have you found him?” Please no, please no, please—

“So, you believe me now?”

“No. I just want to make sure Palpatine stays dead.”

His smile was absolutely vile. “There are more ways than one to ensure that that doesn’t happen.”

He could be lying. Trying to extend his relevance, his usefulness. Half truths. Half answers. Always cryptic. You were so tired of this. Of the worry, the fear, of looking behind you anytime the light dimmed and the dark intensified, just in case.

You stepped closer. “What do you know?”

There was a sparkle of crazed excitement in his eyes. “I know that it’s inevitable. There’s not a single thing you can do to stop it from happening. All you can do is be ready.”

“Ready for what?” But he was already on the uncontrolled ramble of a zealot.

“I’ve made you ready. I’ll be a hero. I’ll get what I was promised. We—”

“We what?” Every muscle in your body was tensing dangerously. Warning alarms. “What were you promised?”

“Look at you.” He was breathless. “You’re perfect. I crafted you—”

He believed it. All of it. It may be bullshit, but it was the truth from his tongue. There was a pain in your chest. You wouldn’t go back. Couldn’t. Because if he was right and Palpatine did come for you, you knew that Dinwouldn’t stand aside. Grogu wouldn’t. And you knew what he would do to them, what he would make you watch him do. Din was a powerful warrior, but he wouldn’t stand a chance against the Emperor. Palpatine would break him apart.

“What were you promised?” You didn’t notice the walls start to tremble. The loose sandstone start to fall in small puffs of dust.

“The Force. I was promised the Force.” His eyes were blown wide, rimmed with red. “We would be equals. We will be.”

Shaking. Your bones, your eyes, the very structure of the palace around you. “That’s not possible.”

“Times are changing. Why do you think Gideon wanted the child so badly?”

Grogu. Everything stilled. He looked triumphant.

“I could just kill you right now.”

“You won’t do that.” He reached an arm through the bars, as if he expected you to take his hand. “Because if you do, you prove me right. If you do, you become everything you insist you aren’t.”

That was it. That was all you could take. Because as you turned for the steps, blocking out the voice behind you, you knew that he had a point. You wanted to kill him. You wanted to take your time with it. Make it hurt. And what did that make you?

You made it to the top of the steps and turned the corner too sharply, bumping into a wall of beskar. He didn’t say a word, just held you. You couldn’t find the energy to hold him back. You were still seeing flashes of imagined images. His helmet, splattered with blood. The handsome head you were just starting to become familiar with severed from his broad shoulders. Grogu’s cry of anguish. There was something numbing about the information he had given, a sense of futility to every action you had taken and would take. What if none of it mattered?

“I’m going to get some air.” You pushed away from him, and he let you go.

He had seen you through many moods recently, but never such empty hopelessness. And he felt hollow himself, watching you walk away, because he had no idea what to say to make any of it better. Din could tell you what he believed, but this wasn’t up to him. There was, however, one thing he could do. Maybe it was petty and stupid, but Din descended the stone staircase with a muted smile on his face.

The Imp was facing the back wall of the Rancor pit, kicking at a pile of picked-clean bones in the corner. They might have been human; Din wasn’t sure. He must have heard the footfalls because he called out without turning: “Made up your mind that quickly?”

“Oh, my mind’s made up.” It was satisfying to catch him off guard. “My mind was made up the second she told me about you.”

“She told you, did she?” Din had no mind-reading abilities, but he could easily sense just how much this man despised him. And he had a nauseating hunch as to why. “What, exactly, did she tell you Mandalorian? I’m curious as to which parts she conveniently left out.” He pulled down the dirty collar of his uniform. “Did she tell you about this?”

You hadn’t. But he found himself smiling wider. The pale pink scar practically stretched from ear to ear. You had tried to slit his throat. Good girl.

“Did she tell you about how she slaughtered my men? How she left a trail of blood to the escape pod? She was still young then. She murdered them like animals. Did she tell you about that?”

Din crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He was actually quite enjoying this story.

“What about the choke? I doubt she’s learned to control it.” He cocked his head. “But, then again, maybe you’re into that sort of thing.”

Ah. “That’s it, isn’t it?” Din could tell he had struck a nerve. “It’s jealousy.”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

He pushed off, stepped forward a touch, into the light of the opening above. “You wish you were me. You wish she saw you the way she sees me. As an ally, a protector…” A vein was starting to bulge in the Imp’s forhead. “…a lover.”

He threw a fist against the bars. “You’re fooling yourself, Mandalorian. You’re like a child holding a blaster. You have no idea how dangerous she is. She’s some pretty girl to you… a trophy.” He spat at Din’s feet. “You make me sick.”

Struck a nerve. He had to laugh, though it was humorless. He still believed in your superiority, truly; next to him you were practically royalty. But you had chosen him… and that was enough. His riduur.

He pondered for a moment, about telling the Imp of the vows you had made last night, the depth of them. If only just to piss him off. But it was none of his business. He didn’t need to prove himself. So instead, he said: “You’re going to die here. And maybe she won’t be the one to kill you, but if she doesn’t then I will. And if she doesn’t want me to, then Fett will, or Shand. You won’t leave this palace alive; you’ll bleed out in that cell. That’s a promise.”

“What’s your point, Mandalorian?”

“My point is that I suggest you make peace with the things you did to an innocent girl.” He turned to leave. “And I sincerely hope you don’t believe in the afterlife.”

It was a scorching day on Tatooine, but you had been lucky enough to catch an edge of the rounded palace walls that welcomed both shade and a light breeze. It was there that you had sat for the past hour, staring out over the dunes, lost in an endless free fall of thoughts.

Since the day you escaped and crashed onto Sorgan, you had taken part in a never-ceasing internal battle between light and dark. Trying to prove to yourself that you weren’t the culmination of your history. And this—the decision to kill him or leave him alive—it played directly into that conflict. He was right. But he had to die. And it was no one’s responsibility but your own.

You heard him coming, you always did. But Din still didn’t say a word, just sat cross-legged to your left. You were both silent for a long time, the hiss of shifting sand the only sound. But you eventually leaned closer, like magnets drawn together, until your head met his shoulder.

“He’s right, you know. About me.”

“Bantha shit.”

“Din…”

He straightened and you moved your head, already loathing the loss of contact. “No. Stop. You don’t get to do this now. I know you.”

“You know who I am since I met you, that’s different.” You pulled at your scalp in frustration. “Who I was before, the things that I did—”

“You did to survive. You didn’t have a choice. With me, you do.”

“So then what about the Weequay in Mos Eisley? The crystal, Din. And on the Razor Crest when I had that nightmare, and you woke me?”

“Stop it.” His tone was harsh in a way you hadn’t heard from him very often. “I have never…” He trailed off, voice straining. “I have never met anyone like you. Who acts for others, cares so strongly, even after what you’ve been through.” You can hear his shaky inhale. “Cyare, you’re a fucking miracle.”

You were trying so damn hard to keep your bottom lip from trembling.

“Killing him won’t change that. It won’t change a damn thing. Not to me.” He cupped your jaw, turning it to face him. “You’re still you. You always will be.” A light laugh. “Even with yellow eyes.”

You managed a smile through the few tears that had already fallen. He wiped at one with a gloved thumb.

“He might be right about some things, but the depth of your character is not one of them.”

That got your attention.

“What do you mean?” He didn’t reply. “Din. What did he say to you?”

He kept stroking a thumb absentmindedly over your cheekbone. When he finally spoke, it was only a breathy whisper. “You are. Above me. I don’t deserve to touch you; I don’t even deserve to breathe your air.” It felt like you were being gutted. “I don’t deserve to want you. He’s right about that.” He huffed a mirthless laugh. “As if I could even help it.”

Oh, stars. What a fucking pair the two of you made, both so convinced you were unworthy of the other. It was almost hilarious. “This is stupid,” you said as if it was an epiphany. “That is so stupid.” You punched him, square on the breastplate. He barely even moved, but your hand hurt so badly that you had to shake it out.

That eclipsed your problems. Din Djarin, singlehandedly responsible for teaching you to trust again, for bringing you back from the brink maker knows how many times, for making you feel love and pleasure so strong it burned a hole in your chest. He thought himself unworthy of you.

“I’m going to kill him.” Din’s helmet cocked to one side at your quick change of heart. “And then I’m going to show you why that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

“I love you.” Those three words, the way they rolled off his tongue, crackled through the vocoder, they were so charged with emotion that they singed through you like a blaster bolt.

He stood and then offered a hand down. “Do you want me with you?” You took it, rising to your feet and brushing sand off of your trousers.

“Yes. Please.” Always.

He only nodded. Waited for you to make the first move. And when you finally stepped ahead of him, walking back to the mouth of the palace, he had a hand on the small of your back, as if he knew the depth of comfort that it offered.

You didn’t want to keep looking over your shoulder. Because you would. If you left him alive now, no matter where the three of you went in the galaxy, there would always be the possibility of him looming, of Palpatinelooming, just around the corner. And it wasn’t just about you. This was about keeping Grogu safe too. And you would do absolutely anything to protect him, even if it meant… whatever it meant.

The roughly hewn rock cavern was cool, mercifully. Though it did little to stifle the heat of your nerves, the sweat rolling between your shoulder blades. The clamminess of your hands. Din stayed a few paces behind.

“So, what’s it going to be?” His ability to remain unruffled in the face of possible death was almost admirable. You throat was too dry to reply, so you focused instead on the gate control panel. It rose up with an unpleasant screech. You could see him assessing your own features, Din’s stance. He didn’t believe you would do it, but he was smart enough to realise he wasn’t escaping.

“Really?” His eyebrows rose. “You’re going to make him do it for you? At least have the decency to kill me yourself.” A last ditch attempt. If only he knew that your mind was made up. You reached a hand behind you, not taking your eyes off the Imp. You weren’t taking any chances. Din understood; he always did.

But you had expected the blaster. A single shot to the head and it would be over. That wasn’t what Din handed you. The handle was smooth, heavier than you expected, all sharp angles and cool steel. Harsh? Maybe. But people had been known to survive a blaster bolt.

It ignited smoothly. You swung it low, experimental. The blade hummed in response.

And suddenly there was fear—real fear—in his eyes. And oh, how it made your blood sing.

“You won’t.” I sounded like he was trying to convince himself. He gaped at you, mouth opening and closing, searching desperately for words that might spare his worthless life. “He’ll come for you!”

You advanced, rolling the darksaber’s hilt in your grasp. Palms slick with sweat. “You’re delusional.” You wish you believed it more. There was no fanfare, no grand moment. You drove the darksaber through his chest without pause, without hesitation. And it didn’t feel wrong. It didn’t feel evil. You were glad to see the light leave his eyes. But the words he uttered in his last breaths would stay with you for a long time, rousing you from nightmares for years to come.

“The master… needs an apprentice.”

You looked majestic holding the saber. It didn’t seem as heavy for you as it did for him, perhaps because you were already used to the weight of power. Din felt pride swell in his chest like a blooming flower.

The symbolism that the Imp had put upon his own death was bullshit, but he had known it would affect you, cloud your judgement. The truth? It was that he deserved to die, brutally, and that regardless of who made the killing blow, it was justified. Din only thought, fleetingly, that it was too easy. That he deserved a slower demise, more painful. That perhaps your actions had even been merciful. Maker knows that if Din had been the one to do it, his methods may have blanched even Fett’s already Sarlacc-bleached skin.

He had crumpled to the floor, the edges of his wound glowing slightly as the skin cauterized. You were heaving, lost in the moment of death. So he brought you back, and hand on your elbow snaking to your hand, helping you to extinguish the darksaber. You let it happen, leaned into his touch. Turned to him and smiled, because it was over, because this time he wasn’t coming back. He loved being the one to center you. That smile was haunted, tinged with some far-reaching darkness that he knew wouldn’t pass easily. But it wouldpass. With time.

“Let’s go get our kid.”

You nodded, and he watched the stiffness ease from your shoulders. You looked tired. So tired. Din pulled you into his chest.

“It’ll be okay.” He would burn the galaxy down to ensure it.

You went to take a shower. You had stumbled over your words, trying to explain why. Din had stopped you, knowing the reason innately, having experienced it himself. A need to wash the deed off, to clean the blood that hadn’t even stained your hands. He sought out Fett while you were gone, thanked him, refueled the Crest.

They were both quiet as they worked, a lack of words available to describe what they wished to say. Finally, Boba broke the silence.

“Take care of her. Protect her. She needs you. They both do.”

Din nodded in acknowledgement, not trusting himself to speak stably. Boba seemed to catch on quite easily, stopping his tinkering with one of the hull’s new outer panels.

“I know what it’s like… to feel like you don’t deserve happiness. After everything you’ve done.” Din stilled, hand hovering over the fuel tank lid. “Learn to be selfish sometimes, Djarin. It’s the one thing you’ll never regret.”

Fett didn’t wait for a reply, clapping him once on the back before moving to exit the hanger. “You’ve always got a landing pad with us. Don’t forget that.” His murmur of thanks came too late; Boba had already left.

The shower had only half helped, but seeing Din again, bent over and fussing with wiring, was much more effective.

“Need a hand?” He jumped a little; you must have been too quiet on approach. “Sorry.”

He rose to full height, and you shrunk under what you could tell was an assessing look, even with the helmet. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now.”

His head tilted. “Be honest with me, please.”

You sighed, because of course he could read you. “I’ll be okay.” He was too quiet, probably running through ideas of how to put a smile on your face. The idea of it was enough to do just that. You swore that you could see his stature loosen. “Let me help with the cables. Your hands are too big.” You swatted Din to the side, crouching over the panel he had been studying.

“The ramp’s been fussing. I came in too hard when I landed, probably shorted something. And the cockpit door doesn’t close. Um. It’s dented.” You knew why. But the information made you study him, looking up into the dark T of the visor. Fennec had told you briefly about how he had practically stormed the palace, leaving a trail of incapacitated Gamorreans in his wake in his rush to get to the throne room. ‘Panicked,’ Shand had said. You had never seen him panicked before, even when the kid had been taken. Always cool and calculated.

Wires momentarily forgotten, you rose steadily and circled your arms around his middle, cheek resting against that divot in his breastplate. He stiffened at the suddenness of your movement.

“Thank you. I haven’t said it… I don’t say it nearly enough.” His body felt nice in the circle of your arms, warm and sure and real. You could feel the shudder of his inhale as he hugged you back.

You had pushed your boundaries with him recently, physically. But this… the simplicity of being able to curl your arms around each other, share breath, feel his heartbeat on the other side of a beskar plate, and know what it meant; you wouldn’t trade it for a single thing.

And to think that you thought you might never experience this. Such an all-consuming type of love, a fierce protectiveness, a family.

Maybe the stories had been right; perhaps the stars did align sometimes.

Even with all the events of the day, Din and you were early to Mos Eisley. The suns were getting low, but only enough to cast that warm reddish glow upon the sand. You both sat on the ship’s extended ramp, looking out towards the street. It regaled you with memories of only a few days prior. And how impossible it seemed that so much had happened in such a short period of time.

Din had kissed you before opening the Crest, once… twice… more times than you could count. Your lips felt swollen, but you doubted you would ever get enough of him. The crowds were getting louder as spectators made their way back from the podracing track, their ruckus travelling into the landing bay and echoing off the walls. It was… nice. Really nice. One thing could make it perfect.

A shrill cry stood out over the commotion. One that you knew all too well. He tried his best to run towards you, short legs tripping over the long fabric of his cloak. You and Din met him halfway, scooping him up from the sand, dusting it off his clawed feet. Grogu cried out in joy, and you tried and failed to stop the wave of emotion before it crested. Because from him you felt such love that it bore a hole straight through your heart. Love and happiness and bone-crushing relief.

“He was worried about us,” you told Din, laughing through blurred vision. You were holding the child in your arms, and Din was holding you in his. Grogu messed with your earlobe with one clawed hand, and the fabric of Din’s cowl with the other.

So this was what home felt like.

“We’re good, Grogu. We’re okay.” Din was fussing with his ears, such a tender motion. “Hope you minded your manners, kid.”

Peli’s high pitched voice cut through the moment. “Well, what am I? Chopped liver?” All three of you looked up at the same time.

The tiny woman had both hands on her hips, a fond smirk across her lips. She closed the distance between you. “Kid’s an absolute joy. A menace… but a joy. You two sure you don’t have any more galaxy-wide adventures you need to take care of?”

Din squeezed your waist. “We’re on sabbatical. Extended leave.”

She nodded in appreciation. “Good. Take them both somewhere real nice then. Five-star resort, renowned chefs, the works.” She muttered under breath: “Maker knows you can afford it.”

Grogu cooed. You wondered if he was starting to recognize the word chef, given its association with his absolute favourite word, food.

“Something like that,” Din answered. You hadn’t really discussed you plans to follow this, your priority having been getting the kid back. It didn’t matter too much to you, not really, not as long as you had the two of them at your side.

He had already punched in the coordinates when you came up behind him, Grogu on your shoulder, your hand on his own.

“Can I ask something of you?” You were wearing the vambraces. He was momentarily speechless, forgetting you had just posed a question. They fit perfectly. He wondered, awestruck, just how the Armourer did it. She had once said that each piece speaks of its wearer as she strikes it into shape. He wondered if she saw you.

Beautiful. And all his.

“Din?”

“Anything you want.” His voice was breathy, caught off guard. Your bashful smile was heavenly. He wanted to kiss you… kiss the beskar… fuck you with nothing but the gauntlets on. Grogu squawked sharply at the both of you, as if to say ‘Get on with it.’

You laughed, before the smile faded into something more muted. Apprehension, curiosity.

“I want…” You fiddled with the tattered edge of his cape, toying with a hole in it, taking a deep breath before meeting his eyes again. “I want to go see Skywalker.”

“I thought you might say that.” He noted your look of well-camouflaged surprise. “There’s a box for you in hull storage, when you’re ready.” He knew that you knew what was in it. He was going to get choked up if you kept looking at him like that. Din spun back around to face the dash. “I’ve got to redo my calculations now.”

“I’m sorry.” He had to smile at the dismayed tone of your voice.

He was quick to reassure. “Don’t be. It’s the right choice. I’m proud of you.” He let the words settle and it was quiet in the cockpit for a time, apart from Grogu’s occasional babble, which was starting to sound concerningly more like actual words. Maker, forbid.

As he circled Tatooine and emerged into the inky blackness of space, you asked: “Where were we going to go?”

He grinned under the helmet. “I’d rather keep that a surprise for now, if that’s alright with you?” You probably knew anyways; you could probably guess.

You slept with him.

Not like that; you were both a little apprehensive with Grogu only metres away. The pram was closed, as was the door to the cot, but it was still new. Simply sharing a bed with Din, however, was just as nice.

He snored—albeit lightly—but it made you smile. He had tugged the helmet off once the kid was asleep and had let you run your fingers through his tamped-down hair. He had said you were fussing. You had told him to shut it. So he had fallen asleep with his head on your lap, a broad hand curled over your knee. He had bent his spine at an impossible angle, but you could wake and shift him as soon as you put this damn datapad down.

You were looking up Luke Skywalker, ‘doing your homework,’ as Din had said earlier in a gruff and sleepy voice. However, it had only worsened your nervousness. He was a hero, known across the galaxy for his role in the defeat of the Empire… of the Emperor. He stood against everything you were taught, a figure of unyielding good in the face of what was once impending darkness. Practically a deity. Would he loathe you? Because you might remind him of his past, what he fought against, what he lost. Or would he be sympathetic? Vader was his father, after all. Would he understand corruption, a turn to the dark for survival, because there was no other choice? Would he see you as someone who could be redeemed?

You sighed, sweeping a hand across your face. Your vision was starting to go unfocused, eyelids getting heavy as you fought against your own fatigue.

“Put it down,” he mumbled, squeezing your knee. “I can hear you overthinking; it woke me up.”

That made you laugh. “No, it didn’t. Liar.”

Din grunted and rose on his elbows, plucking the tech from your hands and depositing it in the makeshift hammock above. He then grabbed you by the hips and dragged you down, until you were flat on your back. You yelped. “Sleep.” It was a command.

You couldn’t have resisted even if you wanted to. Because he had caged you into him, arms winding around your waist and tightening. You melted to fit his body.

“Love you.” It was barely intelligible, just a string of syllables muttered into your neck, but it was enough. More than enough. It was everything.

“I love you, Din,” you replied. He hummed in satisfaction.

You left your worries behind for another night.

Taglist: @that-girl-named-alex @aavengingbucky @prismaticpizza @blub-senpai @a-phan-of-youtube @jaguarthecat @lizajane3 @come-hell-or-eldren-fire @graciexmarvel @soobinsrose @simply-maggie @alwaysdjarin @minky77 @tinytinturtle @tae27 @groguspicklejar @slightlyuglierbeyonce-blog @willow-t @abbyhaslongshorts @andrewshotspot @racetrackheart @leithatnight @messageinadaisy @lostinsideourminds @wren-2-d @goth-cowgir1 @aphterthoughtt @sleeplessskeleton @teawrites01 @dashlilymark @imherefordeanandbones @sunshine96 @kalea-bane @http-onie @focusedarrow @tremendum

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bonesandthebees · 18 days ago

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Okay so I'm just about to start part 3 age of fire of adofn and I have SO MANY THOUGHTS. Not even half way through yet but omg Samantha Shannon you have done it again.

First I absolutely love the Priory plotline in the South with Tunuva, Esbar and Siyu. I love sapphic romances with all my heart and especially with representation for older women. Give me two middle aged women loving each other fuck yeah !!!! I adore how it tackles how some people lose faith in their religion when they feel lost / disconnected to it. Of course some sisters of the Priory, especially the younger ones or ones who have been away from the tree for a long time would not see the point in it anymore as they have not seen the danger the world could be in. Very excited to see how Esbar is going to be as the Prioress as I'm assuming that Saghul has finally kicked the bucket judging by the last scene w Tuva and just generally how she will deal with the draconic plague and the whole general disruption she's going to have to deal w so early in her time as the Prioress and how things will change with her in charge.

Glorian my absolute beloved, I want to shield her from everything that is wrong in the world. Her and Sabran's relationship is so unbelievably tragic I am so insane about them and the fact they will never get to make up and Glorian won't ever know how much her mother truly loves her because she will forever live in her mind as the cold queen. Sabran had an uphill battle to climb when she became queen and while her reign marked the end of the century of discontent, she would always be compared to the three that came before her because the wound was still so fresh and she knew Glorian would also be subjected to that and just wanted to prepare her for it but all Glorian wanted was to know that her mother loved her like her father did and I just ugh. Also I love her relationship w her dad, they are so cute and it's such a nice contrast in how the two parents were raised / their environments. Where he wants to show affection to Glorian and ensure she doesn't ever question that she is loved, Sabran wants to make sure she can survive the courts even at the cost of their relationship. IT'S ALL JUST SUCH GOOD CHARACTISATION !!!

And I love her friendship with Wulf, they are so cute especially with the sparring match and I know from the Priory that he holds like a high position in her court as a knight or smth so really excited to see how their relationship develops following Glorian's coronation.

DUMAI !!!! GOD I LOVE HOW WE GET A LOOK AT THE POLITICS AND CELEBRATIONS OF SEIIKI MORE HERE!!! Dumai is my favourite lesbian absolutely love her so much. Watching her traverse the court tensions as everyone's eyes are on her and she has few allies that actually want to see her on the throne is soooo good. And her being the first dragonrider in centuries !!! That's my girl !!! I wonder if this is the start of like the dragonriding training & the sea guard being founded as seen in Priory w Tané since the long haired comet is on its way and I believe that's what causes the Seiikinese dragons to be more powerful rather than the fire wyrms if I'm remembering how their magic works right but I could be wrong lol.

Anyway I'm gonna get back to reading, will update on my progress again (at some point)

I hope you're having a great night/day Bee :))

- 🦈

AAAAA SHARK ANON I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE ENJOYING IT SO FAR you're making me want to reread adofn but I have to finish my current book before the end of the year oh nooooo

ok putting this under a read more bc this is going to be a wall of me rambling

god yes the priory plotline with esbar and tunuva is SO good. I absolutely love those two, they're such an enduring and loving couple with such a strong bond but it's also so nice to see the struggles they go through. I love seeing their differences especially when it comes to siyu and how they deal with that. it's also especially interesting seeing how the priory functioned before the dragons came back and how some of the girls were even starting to doubt what they were training for because it had been so long since the founding. it's a very understandable and interesting glimpse into things compared to how we see the priory in ead's time.

GLORIAN IS MY BABY OH MY GOD. I love her so much. sooooo much. my darling. my child. she deserves the world. her and sabran's relationship is SO tragic because you can understand exactly why sabran is the way she is with glorian. she bore an impossible weight of bringing inys out of the darkness it had fallen under during the rule of her predecessors at such a young age and she also had the burden of trying to ensure things didn't fall back into that darkness after her reign. she wanted glorian to be prepared but that led to glorian feeling as though she was never good enough for her mother. her father is soooo sweet her relationship with him is so dear, but in a way it's also understandable why he's able to be the favored parent with her. she barely ever sees him since he has to rule his own country most of the year so it's far easier to be the loving, light-hearted parent when you only ever see your kid once a year or so compared to being the parent that actually has to properly raise them. and it also like you said really shows the difference in her parents upbringing. sabran has suffered from the generational trickle down of abuse while bardholt didn't have the same struggles. you're so right it's just such incredible characterization and oughhh my poor baby glorian suffers because of it.

wulf and glorian's relationship is one of my favorite dynamics in the entire book. you'll understand why as the story progresses but god I just love their friendship so much. they're so dear to each other and have such a sweet, trusting relationship. I can't wait for you to see where things go with the two of them.

DUMAI YESSSS I absolutely adored getting to see so much of Seiiki's politics in this one. dumai is in such a tragic position because she never wanted any of this in the first place but she has to suddenly play these royal games for the sake of the entire country. all she ever wanted was to become the maiden officiant of the temple but suddenly she has to be a princess and try to prevent her father from being overthrown. I absolutely can't wait for you to see more of what dumai gets up to because the second half of her story is really where things get interesting with her (and some other characters in her story will become veryyyy important very soon you'll see what I mean)

so so happy you're enjoying shark pls update me more as you get further along

#ask #shark anon #adofn

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heroescore · 1 month ago

Text

Heroes

Chapter 1 - They're Back

It had been six years since five of the first superheroes disappeared, and many, many, had taken their place.

Black Cat was one of them. She was a young woman, who wore primarily black clothing, hiding her face with a black mask and her eyes with a hood. She carried a metal but light staff with her, which helped her pummel criminals, but also was a useful tool to leap across buildings and what not.

Her power was rather tame, and she hadn’t even considered it a super power for the longest time, until she saw a documentary about cats.

Simply put, she had the senses and balance of a cat. The endurance, flexibility, and jumping power of our beloved little house predators were like second nature to her. And although she avoided engaging with press and fans, she was a huge favourite among the public.

Why, you ask?

Simply because the early birds can catch her taking the subway after a night of fighting crime. With all the video footage of unbelievable powers and supers looking and acting like celebrities, it was refreshing to see some normality, and someone always paid for her ticket.

Most nights, she would perch herself on the tallest building in her neighbourhood, keeping her eyes and ears open for any trouble, listening to chatter from the police on a wireless earbud, while waiting for her partner to bring her a much-needed dose of caffeine.

Johanna Johanson was a young woman. She was twenty-seven, which still qualified her as young as she said it. She was a very successful scientist and acting CEO of Johanson Inc., a pharmaceutical giant that also conducted research in the sudden surge of super humans.

Being a super herself, Johanna conducted most research and experiments on herself, and so far her most successful result had been her findings on the effects of caffeine on the super human brain.

It turns out, a simple cup of black coffee could speed up the recovery period after using one’s power a lot, while a more concentrated dose, like a shot of espresso, could even give one’s power a little boost. She also discovered supers were more tolerant of caffeine, and more prone to caffeine addictions since their bodies could take so much of it.

After her study she developed booster pills, a little brown pill with a very concentrated dose of pure caffeine, which were now part of the standard equipment of any respectable hero. Though due to its addictive quality, supers were advised to continue to rely on coffee in its traditional form, and to only take a booster pill in a pinch, when one could really use a boost.

Thus the tradition of seemingly drinking far too much coffee remained a staple in the super scene, and most heroes would start their shift with extra strong coffees.

Johanna moonlighted as a hero known as Mirage. She had the ability to teleport, and could move from one spot in the city to another within the blink of an eye. Alone, she could teleport across the world a couple times before needing a long nap and a lot of coffee. She could also bring people with her, but the possible distance shortened with every extra body joining the jump.

She had met Black Cat while doing a field study of supers, and accidentally fell in love with the whole hero scene. Now she sported a spandex catsuit, an eyemask, and a wild, upright pixie cut every night, bought two coffees at her favourite place, and teleported over to Cat’s usual spot.

“I got the coffee~” Mirage chirruped as she sat down next to her friend.

“With an extra shot espresso?” Cat asked.

“Two extra shots!” Mirage said, “and remind me to pay the barista back tomorrow because I forgot my wallet again…maybe I should write it on my forehead?”

“I think you owe him for more than just tonight’s coffee by now,” Cat said.

“I knoooow, maybe I should just write a cheque to the place? No wait, he pays out of pocket so I should write him a cheque— But I don’t even know his naaaame!”

“Ask him?” Cat suggested.

“...oh good point— Nooo then I’ll have to use my real name and he’ll know who I am!!”

“Then maybe think about all that before you forget your wallet again,” Cat deadpanned.

“Thinking about that would make me forget my wallet even harder!”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Cat!” Mirage whined a bit, but Cat gestured for her to be quiet as she listened to the police scanner on her earbud.

Mirage waited a couple seconds, before getting too curious.

“What is it? Is it time to get to work?” she asked.

“Yeah we should check it out,” Cat said, “lower Manhattan, East River...they’re talking about dinosaurs?”

“Whaaaaat? No way! Let’s go check it out!” Mirage said, grabbing Cat’s arm and teleporting the both of them, completely forgetting about the coffees that were left untouched.

When they reappeared, they stood on the street, watching SWAT pull in, before immediately driving backwards after turning a corner. Cat and Mirage shot one another a confused look, when they heard a loud roar, and shortly after a live tyrannosaurus rex came running around the corner, chasing after the SWAT van.

Mirage yelped and teleported them to the safety of the nearest rooftop, giving them a vantage view.

“SWAT’s not gonna make it, he’s too fast!” Mirage said.

“I see two more headed in the other direction, one bigger than the other two,” Cat reported, “you work in a lab, right? Why would anyone revive world’s biggest predator?”

“Probably just to see if they could?” Mirage said, “and accurately too, look at those feathers! They’re so colourful!”

“They’re gonna colour red if we don’t do something fast!” Cat said.

“I can whip up a strong enough poison?” Mirage said, “are you going to be okay? I don’t see any other supers…”

“Put me on the SWAT van, we’ll worry about the rest later,” Cat said, readying her staff while Mirage took her hand.

She managed to plop her right on top of the backwards speeding SWAT van, the agents inside screaming as rows of teeth snapped at them, and they were nearing a busy road.

Cat wanted to stop the dinosaur before it would reach so many people. Standing on the roof of the van, she waited for the giant feathered beast to open it’s impressive jaw again, to which she jumped off the van and wedged her staff between, so it couldn’t close its mouth. Then she braced herself for the inevitable rage, putting one foot on its lower jaw so she could jump off should things get too hairy.

It shook its head left and right trying to dislodge the staff, before suddenly throwing its head up. Cat’s staff came undone, and she found herself thrown up in the air, before plummeting to the waiting teeth below.

For a split-second, she regretted all her life choices that led up to this moment, when suddenly she felt a hand lock around her wrist, and she pulled up her knees just in time to avoid losing the lower half of her body as she soared away from the giant murder chicken. Confused, she looked up to see who saved her, finding a blonde young man with wings so bright it blinded her.

“Who are you?!” she asked.

“They call me Cross!” the young man replied, “telephone pole!”

Cat looked down and let him drop her, landing smoothly on top of the pole. She looked behind her to see the dinosaur had followed them, eyes locked on the bright-winged super, who had flown straight up, looping backwards until he was upside down, a golden bow with an arrow of pure light appearing in his hands, which he shot at the t-rex.

Halfway the arrow split in two, taking the creature’s eyes out. It let out an ear-piercing shriek of pain as it stopped, falling over as it stumbled blindly. Cross immediately moved in to take it out of its misery, the bow having made place for a spear, which he threw right through the creature’s skull, killing it instantly.

He landed on the street, one of the SWAT agents jumped out of the van to throw up, while Cat climbed down from the telephone pole and approached Cross.

“You new to the city?” she asked.

“No, but I’m relatively new to the scene,” Cross said, picking up Cat’s staff and handing it back to her.

She looked over at the deceased dinosaur.

“Hell of a debut,” she said, when they heard a distant roar.

“There’s more?” Cross asked.

“Yeah they were headed north,” Cat said, “Mirage mixed up some poison, but at this rate we might not need it...maybe for the big one?”

“I thought this one was pretty big already!” Cross said.

“Welcome to the business,” Cat said with a shrug, before holding out her hand so he could give her a lift.

Cross nodded and took off with her hanging onto his hands. It didn’t take long for them to spot the other two dinosaurs, both chasing after police cars while they raced ahead to evacuate the streets.

“What’s the plan?” Cross asked.

“Survive!”

“A little more detail would be nice!!”

“Stop them from chasing the police, keep their attention focussed on us, then survive!” Cat yelled.

“Alright, shade your eyes!” Cross said, deciding to draw the ancient carnivores’ attention as soon as possible.

His wings emitted a flash of very bright light, drawing the attention of the smaller rex, while the bigger remained focused on the police cars.

“Goddamn,” Cat cursed, as their plan was only half successful.

“Hey, watch your language!” Cross said.

“Drop me, I’ll take care of the smaller one, you try and hold back the big one!” Cat said, ignoring him.

Cross nodded, making sure not to drop Cat anywhere near its teeth. She landed on its back, and climbed her way up to its head, taking a page out of Cross’ book, and using her staff to gauge one of its eyes out. Another deafening cry of pain pierced her ears, and she had to jump off before it would throw her off.

Meanwhile further down the street, Cross tried to get the big one’s attention by attacking it directly, throwing a spear into its hind leg. It disappeared after impact, but the wound and the pain certainly remained as it roared and stumbled back around to identify the cause.

The light of his wings caught its eyes, and Cross had to back away as it came at him surprisingly fast. Snapping its massive jaws in an attempt to defend itself. It was hard to get another attack in. It managed to dodge distant attacks quite well, and close range was just risking to get eaten, but it was the most he could do to keep it from trying to eat the police, who continued to evacuate the streets and keep their distance.

However, suddenly the large t-rex looked over at its smaller companion as it roared in pain and frustration. The larger roared in fury and moved to come to its aid. Cross decided to make use of the distraction, conjuring up his bow and arrow again, though it seemed to be way larger now.

“CAT! TAKE COVER!” he yelled as he took aim, before a large arrow made of pure light pierced the smaller dinosaur’s skull.

Cat took cover behind a parked car, not wanting the biggest one to blame her for its companion’s death. Fortunately it didn’t, as it turned back at Cross, knowing very well the arrow came from him. And though its teeth were a safe distance away, he had forgotten to account for its tail, which suddenly smacked against his side, and sent him flying straight down onto the asphalt.

A very rough landing later, his white clothes were speckled with red from some nasty scrapes, and he was seeing double for a moment as he picked himself up, finding a large, angry dinosaur charging straight at him. He quickly conjured up his wings again, but he lacked the energy and coordination to actually fly, and only managed to dart away in time to avoid being eaten.

Cat witnessed his struggle from a safe distance, cursing as she wasn’t sure how to help him besides various suicidal actions.

“Aww, you already took one down?”

“Mirage!”

Cat whipped around, relieved to see Mirage.

“That’s the second one,” she said, “but our new friend is struggling with the big one.”

“Ooh a new super?”

“Yeah but let’s help him before he becomes past tense,” Cat said, snapping her fingers to help her friend focus, “what you got?”

“Poison~” Mirage said, “but we need to get it to ingest it.”

“Instead of that guy, good idea,” Cat said, “how?”

“If we throw it in its mouth he might swallow it? I made enough for all three so I guess we get three tries!” Mirage said.

“Great, get him over here so we can tell him the plan!”

“Oh, duh! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?” Mirage said, before disappearing.

She plucked Cross away from the t-rex and brought him to Cat. Disoriented, the young man fell over and retched a bit. Teleportation could take quite the toll on the untrained body.

“What the fu—”

“Hi! I’m Mirage, nice to meet ya!” Mirage said.

“Poison, dino mouth, three tries,” Cat summarised while helping him back to his feet, taking one of the bottles Mirage had prepared and handing it to him.

“I feel like I’ve been poisoned…” Cross groaned, trying not to throw up his dinner.

“Sorry, teleporting is pretty intense,” Mirage said, “common side effects include nausea, disorientation, shortness of breath and in rare cases temporary blindness.”

“Or in this case, not being eaten by a giant turkey,” Cat said, looking over at their opponent.

It was sniffing the air, trying to find its prey when it had suddenly disappeared, and with the streets cleared, the three supers had its full attention.

“He’ll come at us as soon as he sees us,” Cross said, managing to regain focus a little.

“Then I’ll try first,” Mirage said, “draw its fire in a manner of speaking. If I miss I can teleport away.”

“Good idea. Cross, can you still fly? You seemed to be struggling earlier,” Cat asked.

“I’m running a little low on energy,” Cross admitted.

“We’ll take the fire escape to the roof,” Cat said, pointing into an alley, “regroup there if it goes wrong.”

Mirage nodded, to which Cat took Cross’ hand and the two of them climbed up to the roof. Mirage waited a couple minutes, before teleporting behind the t-rex, whistling loudly on her fingers to get its attention. It turned its large head, spotting her and roaring loudly as it began running towards her. Mirage got ready to throw her poison, moving slowly like a pitcher on the hill, waiting for the last moment and for its jaws to be wide open before throwing it and immediately teleporting back to Cat and Cross.

“Did you get it?” Cat asked.

“Yeah I think so,” Mirage said, “though I just remembered I have no idea how a dinosaur’s metabolism works so even if it swallowed there’s no knowing how fast it’ll take effect~”

“Dude…” Cat sighed.

“Then we just give it everything,” Cross said, “that’ll surely send him straight back to God.”

“Oh!” Mirage said, “I get your costume now! You’re an angel!”

“Um…”

“Ignore her,” Cat bluntly said, “good plan, we got two more bottles, let’s make ‘em count.”

She pulled something from her pocket, and handed it to Cross.

“Take these, it’ll help you fly again.”

Cross looked down at the strip of pills she had handed him, raising a brow.

“Drugs?”

“Caffeine boosters!” Mirage said, “you’ll regret it in the morning but they give your powers a boost in a pinch!”

“Oh, I read about these, thanks!” Cross said, quickly taking one pill and handing the package back to Cat.

Pretty much as soon as the small tablet reached his stomach, he felt rejuvenated, his whole body glowing slightly.

“Better?” Cat asked, as if she had given him a Snickers bar.

“Much,” Cross said.

“Good. Fly me over him like bait. When he bites, I’ll drop the second bottle,” Cat said.

Cross nodded, wings of light appearing as if he unfolded them out of thin air. This immediately drew the attention of the t-rex, already looking for a way to climb up. Cross took Cat’s hand and did as she asked, circling above the dinosaur and waiting for it to try and bite at them, while Mirage watched anxiously from the roof, ready to jump in should things go wrong.

Fortunately things went rather smoothly. Cat tossed her poison right to the back of its throat, much to its chagrin, and Cross kept circling to see if it would give them another opening to deposit the third dose.

It seemed the end was near, until the dinosaur got stuck in some cables, and Cross only barely managed to dodge a falling pole and a live electrical wire. Cat dropped herself while flying low to the ground, allowing Cross to save his own landing, but that put them straight in the path of a vengeful dinosaur with an upset stomach.

“Trip the sucker!” Mirage said as she suddenly appeared right behind Cross.

He jumped in surprise, but nodded, handing her the last bottle of poison, before finding a safe point to grab the electrical wire, while Mirage teleported Cat to safety.

Thanks to the booster pill, flying was surprisingly easy, and he was more agile than usual. He flew around the t-rex, avoiding its jaws as he wrapped the cables around its legs, before gathering all his strength to pull them taut.

Very slowly, the large creature slipped as it couldn’t take a big enough step, and some effort later it came crashing down, exactly where Mirage was waiting to chuck the last bit of poison into its mouth.

They could hear it swallow before it roared in frustration, thrashing in an attempt to get up, but Cross held fast, almost getting thrown, so he dug in his heels. Mirage returned to where she had left Cat on another rooftop, both watching the new super.

“So he can fly, and he has enhanced strength?” Mirage commented.

“And he glows and pulls weapons out of his ass, that also disappear as soon as he’s done with them,” Cat added, “he said he was new to the scene, but he looks a bit older than me.”

“Not everyone starts playing hero while in high school,” Mirage said, “I was pretty late to the party too.”

“Because you gave them to yourself,” Cat pointed out.

“I was just trying to see if I could and apparently I did!” Mirage said.

“You think someone resurrected dinosaurs for the same reason?” Cat asked, “or was there a more sinister plot behind their escape?”

“I dunno, I first thought Ranger was up to something, but he would’ve had proper control over them,” Mirage said, “anyway, how would you classify the new guy?”

“Definitely a rank four, if not higher,” Cat said with a nod.

Considering the many varieties of powers, the government had started grouping some known supers together into specific ranks, ranging from 5 to 1, where 5 are the small fry and 1 is pretty much God-tier. The rankings correspond to a similar classification system of catastrophes. Ideally, a calamity is dealt with by a super with the corresponding rank. For example:

Class 5 calamity: Petty crime, theft, armed robbery of a corner store at worst.

Class 4 calamity: Something threatens a city block and several lives, like 3 rogue carnivorous dinosaurs.

Class 3 calamity: a city-wide threat. This description is debatable as it applies to every city. Rank 3 supers in New York City feel notably more pressured than Rank 3 supers in Vista, California.

Class 2 calamities: A state-wide threat. Forest fires are the most common occurrence.

Class 1 calamities: A nation-wide threat. This includes, but is not limited to; big corporations with a secret agenda, corrupt politicians, natural disasters, or a super villain.

There is no official body that definitively decides which rank a super has. The supers in the Big Apple decide this for themselves through guess work, boasting, or an old school fight.

Rank 4 supers tend to be the most territorial, as they often claim a certain block, neighbourhood or area as their turf to protect and don’t allow other supers to steal their thunder. They recruit Rank 5 supers to deal with the smaller issues, but certainly don’t complain when a Rank 3 or higher level super helps out with situations outside of their expertise.

The 124th keeps an extensive list of which supers operate where, and most precincts know exactly which super to try and contact or who to count on when a situation gets out of their hands.

That being said, Alexandrine Carnahan, captain of the 124th, was very glad Cat and Mirage had heeded their cries for help. She watched in awe how the last and biggest one eventually stopped struggling, before returning to coordinating the clean-up and investigation.

“Last one’s down too!” she called into her radio, “cordon off the entire block, I don’t want anyone near those beasts until we figure out who’s behind this, especially the damn media! And where the hell is my detective?!”

“I’m right behind you, hold your horses,” a somewhat gruff voice said.

Captain Carnahan turned around to find a tired-looking man approaching her. Liam Hill was a detective of the 124th main precinct, and Carnahan’s partner for years until she made captain.

Her first order of business had been to appoint him head detective of their multi-precinct department, and despite his grumpy mood, he had really stepped up to familiarise himself with a new way of working, and a very new type of crime to solve.

“Now I’ve seen everything,” Hill said with a sigh as he looked at the dead dinosaur in the distance, “let’s see...we’re gonna have to cut them in pieces to clean up anyway, might as well look for a chip or tracker, anything that indicates where they might have come from. We should also take samples to trace their DNA, get a geneticist on it, the lab these guys were bred in might’ve worked a signature into there too.”

“You heard him, chop chop!” Captain Carnahan added, as the officers near them just kind of exchanged looks instead of jumping into action.

“I also wanna interview the supers involved, see if they saw something that might help,” Hill added, nodding towards the three dressed up people standing over their kill.

“We really couldn’t have done this without you, Cross,” Mirage said, “if you’re gonna be here more often you’re more than welcome~ Have we met before though? You look familiar.”

“I’m pretty sure we haven’t,” Cross said with a shrug, rubbing his eyes a bit as the booster was beginning to wear off.

“Police are here, they’ll wanna talk,” Cat said.

“Oh no…” Cross mumbled.

“No? What’s wrong, you in trouble?” Mirage asked.

“Not yet,” Cross said, looking around, “my powers are part of my disguise and I don’t think I can hang on for much longer.”

“Oh we fully understand,” Mirage said, “I’m sure the police will too. Can I take you anywhere?”

“I’ll cover for you,” Cat said, while Cross thought for a second.

Then he nodded and told Mirage which building and floor she could take him to. He thought after that first jump, his second time wouldn’t be so bad, but when they appeared in the empty hallway of the apartment building he lived in, he could barely keep standing.

Mirage managed to catch him, slinging his arm around her shoulders and helping him stay upright.

“Which apartment?” she asked, “do you live alone?”

“Twenty-five...B,” Cross said weakly, trying not to throw up, “roommate...sleeping…”

Mirage nodded, dragging him towards the right door, sitting him down against the wall, and teleporting herself inside so she could unlock the door and let him in. She tried her best not to be distracted by any details, respecting Cross’ secret identity.

The apartment was clearly lived in by two bachelors. The couch looked comfy enough, the TV big enough, and a couple consoles were installed for their entertainment. There was an entryway table next to the door with mail and a bowl of keys and random change. The carpet was a simple brown colour, the walls a simple off-white, and there was an utter lack of decoration.

The small kitchen looked decent enough, but the cardboard plates in the open trash can, the pack of plastic forks on the counter and the beer crates stacked next to the fridge, clearly showed the only female presence in the apartment was the men’s x-chromosomes.

Mirage decided to keep her thoughts for herself and let Cross guide her towards his bedroom, which was equally plain. The carpet and the walls were the same colour as the previous room, the bedsheets were faded, and the small desk in the corner seemed to be bending under the weight of the many books stacked on top.

Cross sat down on the bed, not noticing when Mirage took a peek at the titles on the books. Some were in Latin, and most seemed to be related to Christian mythology. There was one thing better about his bedroom though; there was something hanging on his wall, above his bed. It was a simple, wooden cross. His disguise and powers made even more sense now, but she figured she could ask him about it some other time.

“Okay, I’ll get going now so you can do...whatever you do,” Mirage quietly said.

“Thanks,” Cross replied tiredly, lying down on his bed.

Mirage nodded and stepped outside the room, closing the door quietly. Cross didn’t even hear her leave, as he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. When he did. the slight golden glow surrounding his body slowly pulled away. His white clothes regained their earthly colours, his blonde hair coloured brown, and he was once again, an ordinary young man living in New York City.

Meanwhile Mirage wanted to make sure the front door was properly locked again before she would teleport back to the scene, when she heard a shriek behind her. She spun around, finding another young man standing behind her.

“Y-you!” he said breathlessly.

“Shush, your roommate is sleeping!” Mirage hissed, “no need to panic, I’m—”

“I know who you are!” the young man said, “I-I can’t believe— I-I’m Philip Winter, columnist, and I’m a huge fan!”

He stepped closer, grabbing Mirage’s hand and shaking it.

“Thanks?” Mirage said, a bit surprised, when she suddenly remembered his name, “oooh you’re that guy! Man I love your writing!”

“Whaaaaat?! No way!” Phil said, his voice rising several pitches.

“Yes way,” Mirage said, slowly dislodging her hand from his, “and I’d love to chat about it, buuut I kinda need to deal with something, and you might wanna check on your roommate, he looked pretty tired.”

“Right, right, right,” Phil said, “I’m sorry— Before you go! Might we meet some time for an interview? My readers would freak. Out. In a good way!”

“Um...I’ll think about it,” Mirage said, “I know where to find you, don’t call me, I’ll call you!”

And before Phil could stop her, she already disappeared. Still reeling from the excitement, Phil decided he would not be getting any sleep tonight. He had to find out why she was in his apartment, and his best source was also his best friend.

“Aiden!! The fuck have you been up to?!” Phil yelled as he threw his door open.

Aiden awoke with a start, looking around, seeming a bit confused.

“When did I get here?” he asked to no one in particular.

“You’ll never guess it,” Phil said.

“Then just tell me already, dumbass,” Aiden said, a bit annoyed as he felt exhausted, and his head hurt quite a bit.

“Mirage dropped you off,” Phil said, “and she didn’t seem angry or scared, which means you let the other guy out~”

Aiden bit his lip. He did remember that. He remembered quite a lot now that he was waking up a bit. Ever since meeting Phil while squatting in an abandoned sugar factory, Aiden had learned two very important things about himself. 1) He was most definitely possessed by a demon. And 2) He was simultaneously possessed by an angel too.

The three of them were pretty much constantly fighting for control, and the only reason he wasn’t dead yet was because the fight was two against one. Through meditation, Aiden learned the angel’s name was Michael, and that he had been trying (and sometimes failing) to hold back the demon for Aiden’s sake.

Over the years, the demon lost more and more control, and Aiden learned to tap into the angel’s powers. He had kept Phil pretty up to date with his progress. Showing him how he could transform into a mirror image of the angel, showing him some moves with the weapons he could conjure, but he had not yet told Phil about the wings, flight, and crime-fighting he had started doing…

“Well then? Spit it out,” Phil said, “what’ve you been up to?”

“He can fly,” Aiden said, “wings made of pure light, and he’s so strong, and I can use all of that for an amount of time, and he helps by moving my body for me, and you should’ve seen it Phil, it was so cool!”

“And you met Mirage?” Phil asked, looking almost green with envy.

“And Black Cat,” Aiden said.

“DUDE!”

“I saved her from getting eaten by a dinosaur, and we took three of them down together,” Aiden said.

“You did WHAT?!” Phill yelled, before running to get his laptop, “you’re going to give me all the details now! If I get this story published first, all the major news outlets will refer to my article as source, and maybe we can finally fix the AC in this place!”

“Okay, okay,” Aiden said, “well, where to start…”

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cherriesncinnamon · 2 years ago

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ethan landry headcanons

synopsis: ethan landry headcanons, both sfw & nsfw.

warnings/tags: sexual themes, scream vi spoilers, fem!reader.

a/n: disclaimer, these are just my opinions on what i think ethan would be like irl, don't come for me!!

sfw:

⪩⪨ he loves holding you close when you’re sleeping, wrapping his arms around your body.

⪩⪨ he CANNOT for the life of him keep his hands off of you, in private and in public.

⪩⪨ his favourite meal is spaghetti with tomato sauce, and he tells you that the way you make it is the best, he's definitely biased but you appreciate it anyways.

⪩⪨ after a long day, he wants nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch movies with you, he’ll watch anything, even the corny chick-flicks you love so much, just as long as he’s spending time with you.

⪩⪨ he always waits outside your classes, standing patiently at the door and greeting you with a kiss like he hasn’t seen you in weeks.

⪩⪨ ethan’s a very jealous person, and becomes filled with anger when he sees you talking to other men, when he knows it’s purely platonic.

⪩⪨ his favourite feature of yours are your eyes (cliche, i know), he gets utterly lost in thought when you gaze at him.

⪩⪨ he hates it when you criticise yourself, and yells at you to quit it. he truly views you as the most beautiful angel he’s ever seen, you never believe him.

⪩⪨ whenever you feel unsafe, he immediately comes to your apartment to stay with you, determined to protect you even if it means harming himself (me when i pretend i’m not the killer).

nsfw:

⪩⪨ ethan was a virgin before he met you, as were you, so you both learned a lot from one another.

⪩⪨ since you’re the sole person he’s been with, he’s become somewhat attached, and doesn’t think anyone could make him feel as good as you do.

⪩⪨ he struggles to stop the blood rushing straight to his cock when you do anything inherently sexual, sometimes you do it on purpose to watch his face burn with embarrassment.

⪩⪨ he’s a switch, split 50/50, depending on his mood. you love both sides of him, and it’s never the same routine, which excites you.

⪩⪨ when he’s submissive, he’s willing to let you do anything to him, completely at your mercy, whimpering and grunting at the euphoria you’re giving him.

⪩⪨ when he’s dominant, he’s more driven, and you’ve never seen him so serious. he’s typically like this after a difficult day, or following a jealous rage at your behaviour. he does all the work, towering over your frame, and slowly fucking you to drag out the pretty moans he’s so desperate to hear.

⪩⪨ his favourite part of your body (in a sexual sense) is by far your hips. he loves nothing more than to squeeze the flesh for support when he’s thrusting into you, leaving blush bruises where he once held you.

⪩⪨ you frequently ask him to join you in the shower, and he never jumps up to your aid so quick. you innocently lather each other with soap, fingertips trailing every curve and inch of skin on your bodies. every single time you’ve done this, it’s ended with sex, him bending you over the sink, hands against the wall and bodies dripping with water.

⪩⪨ his favourite position is definitely good ol’ missionary. it’s the position you both lost your virginities in, so he’s become devoted, especially because it’s still you. he loves it when you tangle your legs around his waist, hands snaked around his neck, pulling softly at his curls.

⪩⪨ ethan enjoys eating your pussy the most, he is obsessed with pleasing you. after giving him a few pointers, he’s gotten unbelievably good at it. you love when you orgasm on his tongue, and look down at his pretty smile against your core as he finishes you off.

⪩⪨ there have been multiple occasions where you have had pregnancy scares, probably because of the lack of protection in the heat of the hormone filled outbursts. ethan tries his best to calm you down, but truthfully he’s masking his own anxiety to comfort you. it’s gotten so bad that you’ve had to commit to the pill, much to ethan’s delight now that he can finish inside of you without the added fear.

#scream 6 #scream vi #scream movies #ethan landry #ghostface #headcanon #fem reader

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hermioneismyrealname · 6 months ago

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Ep 6 empty mugs and jealousy

Well... Hm. I'm angry at mugs.

More sugar daddy shopping. Belts? Mahasamut, you innocent darling... He doesn't want them for you. The writer needs his bedroom inspiration, and he's thinking of a belt.

Rak is actually pretty cheery. Hm. Yes, I completely agree that he looks adorable.

JEALOUSY?! Hungry? Two scoops? Wah. DONT LIE TO ME THERE WAS NO WATER IN THERE! NONE. Also that mug is iconic. I want it but it looks small for the amount of tea I drink.

Shh.. not yet.. now you may speak

That was a good move, Mahasamut. You listen if they want to tell first. Brilliant. And wishing for someone's misery, heh. I really like his character. So far, other than abandoning the town that relies on him, there isn't much fault with him. Oh and Rak's heart eyes.

OH cousin! Wow... i want to be his mom. the money part not the getting cheated on. and... being obsessed with a complete ass. wow. abusive too. MAME ENOUGH WITH THE TRAUMA. As easy and terrible of a man like this sounds, to the point that this is unbelievable... I know some of my friends with this sort of background. So yeah. Yeash. And being called annoying when crying.. yup. been there. Next.

I feel like that the bratty cousin is going to be forgiven by the end of this. ONLY 14 MINUTES THROUGH? Jeez MAME. Ok. That hug was cute.

So i respect the hustle of a bunch of friends getting the inside scoop on an author's latest work, I'd be guilty of that too. However, if it wasnt at Mook's expense. Poor girl.

Ok this was also adorable.

but that steel beam must be uncomfortable. aaaand there goes the adorableness. HHAAHHAAHAHAHAHA! oh hello friend. Oh... wait... Did Rak change his pants? OI CONTINUITY STAFF!

my guy.... Khom... you were bought too. I read your book. Dont play coy.

Also

Yes Rak. Send it to Connor and have him come fetch his hubby. THERE IT IS! JEALOUSY! OOOOHHH!! Hydro turbines! Go green energy! (at least what i think they are)

oh. oohohohoh Connor... Oh Connor. You bitter jealous bastard. Who does Rak hug when he has writer's block. ahahaahahah! IF he is going to show up, I want the awful blond hair. YOU HEAR ME MAME?! Give me the full cringe.

That fight was cute but immediately i was distracted by this terrible interior design.

VIE IS MANIPULATING AGAIN. WAH! WAH! Her acting is very convincing. Ah kantoi. A hug? I really want to hate Vie here, but I do admire her manipulation tactics.

Mahasamut, why are you wearing a jacket around the house, near water? BINGO!! A CHILD! HEY NO DISRESPECTING MY MINT CHOCOLATE! YES. MEENA. I AGREE WITH YOU. YOU ENJOY THAT MINT CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM! DONT LET ANYONE DISRESPECT OUR FLAVOUR.

Oh. yeah. Escape that deadass grandpa.

Oh they are going to get interrupted again. Mahasamut, I suggest you put your phone somewhere other than your trousers pocket. That was quick coffee making. AGAIN THERE IS NOTHING IN THAT CUP!!! WHY JUST FILL IT UP WITH SOMEHTING ITS PISSING ME OFF! I WAS GOING TO GIVE THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT THAT HE DIDNT MAKE IT THATS WHY IT WAS SO QUICK BUUUUTTTT NOOOOOOOO

THAT MUG IS EMPTY!

OH THAT IS FUNNY. One always thinks its best to give people space, so afraid of disappointing someone while the other cant stand being left alone. HAH!

yeahp. RAk. Mood.

ehheheheh kid's got attitude. Oh brililiant attitude. Ok. Meena is favourite character. and she is emotionally intelligent. I'm completely Meena here. She is so expressive too!

Yeah... and the music change... welp. Sorry but where is the prep? We end it like that then? Sure.

What the hell do they keep pointing at?

And so now I realize, this is going to get worse. Today's ep was a little sweet. Soft. Comforting even. Rak's character development is back, it will go again next episode because of his cousin. His cousin, by the way, I do not like but I think there is going to be some sort of Oh, can i say it? Tong level redemption arc™️. And by arc, I mean a 2 degree curve because her character is shallow and close to pointless when the giggolo father plot exists. A little disappointed with this week's bingo, but alas.

#love sea the series #thai bl #bl bingo #cheers to chaos #thai drama

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i-write-hurt-not-comfort · 2 years ago

Note

You probably get this question a lot, but what aspects of Kou’s character make you love him so much?

(Tbh I didn’t pay much attention to him when I first got into DiaLovers but after reading your fics I really like his character a lot more lol.)

i have literally never gotten this question before so thank you. and thank you for reading my fics! i absolutely LOVE writing kou so much and i'm glad people like it. sometimes i worry i'm angsting him out too much and then i just remember his dark fate. he deserves all the love he can get ;;

i'm putting this under a cut because it's really long and has some tw

// mentions of suicide, CSA and drug abuse

His character design

starting off really basic but kou is really fucking pretty. i love his character design, his eyes are pretty, his hair is kinda dumb but cute, and he's so fruity?? the way he dresses and stands??? you can't tell me he's straight. he looks so good in all the art, he can pull of anything.

i recently got a BUNCH of kou merch on buyee for a really good price and i put it along my walls like this and damn

His voice

ryouhei kimura does such a good job with kou i think. he captures the way he can go from chirpy and happy to EXTREMELY angry in a split second. i gotta be honest i used to find kou's voice really annoying and it was like, the one thing that let me down. but then i listened to his more blood drama CD and damn. daaaaaamn. he's got such a range. honestly i love hearing kou angry lol. he's got such a sexy angry voice i can't take him seriously. and the way he says really simple things super over the top.

i also fucking love devil's spire with every part of me. i listen to it several times a day, every single day.

His humour

he's got a weird sense of humour, it's almost a bit morbid. like he talks about really serious things really jokingly. he calls yui silly nicknames and jokes with his brothers. some of the shit he says really makes me laugh even if it's not meant to. his drama CDs are great too, he's really overly dramatic and it's so funny.

His history with drug abuse

i don't think anyone wants to hear me talk about this any more because i've also written about it here and here but just know that the fact he did drugs in CANON makes me over the moon. i have such a fascination with drugs and writing characters as either recreational drug users or drug addicts is my favourite.

kou just fits it perfectly?? so far i've written him abusing heroin, cocaine, crack cocaine and MDMA, and i've hinted at him being an alcoholic in another fic. i can do so much with him. but it really draws me to his character. i wanna do drugs with kou so bad.

His further angst potential

like i said, kou's dark fate is a personal favourite. i think we see him at his lowest and most vulnerable. nothing broke me more than when ruki (you dick) breaks him apart from yui. and there's that flashback to him talking to karlheinz. and he's standing on the balcony, he says to himself "i can't see my blue sky anymore" then jumps off the fucking balcony. my guy tried to unalive because he was hurting so much.

not to mention his history of suicide attempts. i might be mistaken about this but i'm pretty sure kou is the only character who actively tried to commit suicide, and multiple times at that. his history with child assault too. we all know i'm a total slut for heavy, heavy angst. making kou severely unstable and on the verge of snapping all the time is really good if you want to write some dark shit.

he has such an unbelievable amount of trauma and it really shows. the fact he had to be given a magic eye in order to be able to simply trust someone because his trust was just that badly broken. i'll die on the hill that kou had borderline personality disorder too, i've written more about bpd here.

and that's not to mention seeing him having nightmares and stuff in more blood, and the struggles he has in lost eden.

one last thing which i don't think i've seen anyone say before, while i'm on the kou angst wagon - i know it's probably not this deep but. the implication that kou can't undo buttons himself because he was never the one undressing himself as a kid... ah...

The blue sky metaphor

kind of ties into the above point but the blue sky metaphor means a lot to me. essentially kou always thought it was something physical - like, the sky itself. but then karlheinz points out that it's something to live for. the blue sky thing is something to trust with everything, someone to live for. something always there - the fact he used drugs as a kid to find that first is pretty sad too. and then yeah, trying to leave this world when he can't see his blue sky, in which case it's yui.

uh, linking back to the previous point though, that's angst potential. he's very heavily co-dependent in a relationship.

I'm lowkey a kou-kinnie

i have a kou tattoo with the "you're my blue sky" quote and the lilies covering my arm for a reason. there's a lot of personal stuff i relate to - from seeking comfort in drugs to desperately searching for a reason to live, something to cling onto. there's a lot of thought cascades he shows which (correlate to BPD) i relate to, and kou does some pretty shitty things to yui when he doesn't know any better. i've said some nasty things similar to what kou has said although i unfortunately relate to laito on this front a lot more.

His relationship with Yui and Subaru

if we push aside the co-dependence part so i can say something positive and not sad for once, he forms relationships pretty well once he's gotten through the not-trusting stage. especially with the help of the eye. i keep going on about his dark fate but I Just Love His Dark Fate Okay. when he cries to yui telling her that she's his blue sky when they're reunited. when he tries so hard to learn to communicate and protect her and he even becomes quite good at apologising lol.

i don't have to explain why i love subakou. everyone knows i love them. but i really love them. look at the DEVELOPMENT from the first picture here to the second. i think about this so often.

i guess on that topic, i'm a huge softie for the mukami's brotherhood too. i'll always think back to the beginning of azusa's more blood when kou warns yui that azusa is the problem child. like, no, YOU'RE the problem child, kou. that's u.

there's probably more to say but goddamn i love him so much.

#ask #anon #can u tell i love him #he's the best #he needs therapy so bad #sometimes i like to imagine him meeting my therapist and hoooh boy she'd shred him to pieces

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sweetandscarlet · 2 years ago

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i want you to be rough with me | pt 3

notes: part 3 is finally here, i’ve been a little busy on my days off but i’ve finally finished the idea an anon requested, enjoy :)

warnings: 18+, mommy kink, orgasm denial, forced masturbation (kind of?), degradation, tit spankings, mentions of rope play, use of magic. minors DNI!

words: 3k+

if there was one thing wanda always loved to do it was bring you to the delicious brink of an orgasm, teetering you on the edge until she retracts her fingers, strap or mouth; leaving you breathless, frustrated and helpless under her touch.

sometimes it was to punish you after misbehaving, answering back or just plain refusing one of her commands.

usually, you did it on purpose just to feel her hand collide with the soft skin of your ass to mark you and leave you sore for days.

safe to say wanda caught on and decided that just wouldn’t do, she couldn’t have you enjoying your punishments. oh no. they were there to teach little girls like you a lesson.

so one day, she switched things up and ever since then it was now wandas’ favourite thing to do.

it left you even more pathetic than before and that sparked something animalistic in the redhead.

other times, wanda just did it for fun.

just to see how far she could push the denial, simply just because she could.

you hated it and the control she had over you but, parts of you also loved wanda deciding what happens in the bedroom.

no words in the dictionary could explain how unbelievably hot it was.

you just loved how she threw you around and treated you like you were nothing but a sex doll to use and abuse.

you also loved the aftercare that came with it. when wanda would do anything to make you feel better, attending to your every need like the good mommy she is.

to be honest, you had no idea how months ago, a simple shove on the bed got you to this point you were now but you were so glad it happened.

you mulled over all of these thoughts in your head as you waited patiently on the bed, your wrists clasped tightly in red satin ribbon that held your arms above you. you turned your head side to side, looking at the ribbon that was tied to either bedpost securely.

your heartbeat spiked upon admiring the masterpiece in front of you, wanda sure was skilful when it came to this type of stuff. it was quite mesmerising, you had to admit.

your mind flashes back to the time when wanda had purchased a load of rope, red naturally, and decided she wanted to learn shibari. your cunt throbbed at the memory of you completely bound and at the older woman's mercy, a vibrator expertly threaded into the knots above your clit as she made you stay placed in front of her.

all you could do was lie there, curses and moans falling from your lips as filthy words of encouragement fell from the older womans' who sat perched on a chair at the foot of the bed, her eyes glued to you as she watched you cum over and over again until you were painfully sensitive and crying for her to take pity on you.

the sounds of heels clicking brought you back to reality, your head turning to look at the ajar door as the steps grew closer.

“do you know why you’re in this position right now, malysh?” wanda voiced as she pushed open the door with a flick of her finger, red irises fading quicker than they appeared.

you couldn’t help but audibly moan at the sight of your girlfriend who stood tall and confident in front of you. she adorned black heels, red bottoms peeking out as she stepped closer to you. she wore a black lacey lingerie set along with garters and it all just hugged her so perfectly you couldn't help but rub your bare thighs together to muster some sort of friction you so badly craved.

your eyes desperately darted up and down as you hungrily took in the older woman’s appearance.

“oh this?” a smirk played on her lips as she followed where your eyes had landed on her garter-clad thighs. “i decided to treat my baby today, something special just for you.. even though you don't deserve it. which reminds me..” wanda gently placed herself on the edge of the mattress, her fingers running tentatively up and down your leg. “i’ll ask again, why are you in this position right now?”

your eyes stay trained on her thighs and you automatically pulled slightly on the restraints, wanting to feel her closer to you.

“i- i don't know, mommy” you husked out, finally tearing your eyes away to face wanda who was coldly staring back at you. “i’m always a good girl for you”

wanda chuckled, shaking her head at your reply. “you know what you’ve done baby and so do i, if you just own up to it i’ll be more lenient”

you racked your brain as you tried to recap the past couple of days that flew by in a blur while you stayed home alone.

the older woman was busy with work and had to travel for some important business meeting that, to be honest, you didn’t really understand fully when she told you about it. but, you listened to her boast anyway about how this was a big opportunity for mommy, and soon after she laid down some ground rules.

you gulp when you remember your mistake.

“number one, detka… no friends or parties, i want to come home to a clean house and my little one not stinking of alcohol. got it?”

you nodded obediently but you honestly wouldn’t do that even if you wanted to, all you wanted is to stay home alone, watch movies, bake cookies etc and wait patiently on your girlfriend to return.

“number two, no touching and certainly no cumming.” wandas hand trailed delicately up your leg, between your inner thighs and upwards to forcefully cup your clothed cunt in her hand. “this is mine, it belongs to me and i expect my little girl to keep her hands to herself. got it?”

you swallowed hard at the request. two whole days. sure, you could do that, couldn’t you?

“yes mommy, got it”

wanda smiled wide at your response, leaning forward to press her soft lips on your forehead. “atta girl, and finally… when i call, you answer. i want to know my little dorogoys going to be okay on her own”

wanda was always the overprotective type but you never minded, it was heartwarming to feel and see how much the redhead loved and cared for you.

you smiled up at her, your hand tracing patterns on the arm that cupped you. “i’ll be so good mommy, don’t worry too much about me”

wandas lips stretched from ear to ear in a grin at your obedience before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“that’s my girl”

all you had to do was follow three simple rules but you really couldn’t help but break rule number two. wanda had called you on the first night of her being away and she had tormented and teased you relentlessly. so in your opinion, it was wandas fault; even though you would never say that out loud.

“shit i- i remember what i did and i am really sorry, after all of the teasing i just couldn’t help myself” you gave the older woman a lopsided smile as you try to explain your actions. “it was only one, mommy i promise. i’ll never do it again”

the older woman hummed in response, tapping her finger on her chin in thought and you just prayed to whatever god that she shows some kind of mercy and leniency with you.

"i believe you, little one but what kind of mommy would i be if i didn't teach you a lesson?" wanda eyed you in your restraints and smiled. "now... what should i do with you?"

you swallowed hard at the way the redhead's eyes burned into you, green eyes fading to red as her pupils dilated and you can only imagine the thoughts running through her head.

"please" you whine, your arms instinctively pulling on the restraints and you can't help the soft wince that escapes your mouth as you feel the rope nip at your skin. "i- i have learned my lesson.. never again mommy, i swear"

wandas bottom lip juts out in a feigned pout before shaking her head with a chuckle. "i knew you had broken a rule when i called you on the second-night dorogoy, i could see guilt written all over your face”

you shut your eyes when you felt wanda shift on the mattress, raising a leg to push the tip of her heel against your cunt. she flattened her shoe and pushed harder, a whimper escaping your lips at the feeling.

"i knew you would never have a party or friends over because.. you just want mommy don't you detka?…"

you nodded frantically as wanda moved her foot up and down against your cunt, the only thing stopping your wetness from coating the bottom of her heel was the red lace panties that wanda kept you in.

“…you answered all of my calls, so that leaves just one more rule. the second one and no matter how hard your dumb little whore brain tries, you can't hide from me y/n”

you bit your bottom lip at the friction against your clit and you couldn't help but shift your hips to grind yourself against it.

"go on slut, hump my shoe like the pathetic girl you are"

she didn't need to tell you twice, as soon as the words left wandas lips you threw your head back, moving your hips faster as your mouth fell slack in an o' shape and a guttural moan escaped your throat. "s-so good.. thank you mommy"

"you're welcome baby, let me know when you're close okay?" wanda cooed as she stretched her leg until it was straight along the mattress and tightly pressed up against your cunt.

your hips moved vigorously against the bottom of her heel as you nodded your head in response, you could feel your walls clenching around nothing as the coil in the pit of your stomach turned and twisted. beads of sweat dripped from your forehead, your hair becoming damp while you put every ounce of strength to stay in the perfect spot on her heel that was turning your brain into putty.

wanda watched in awe at your desperate attempt to bring yourself closer to the edge and she almost caved for a moment when she saw the wet patch on your underwear. it was a sight to see and it nearly earned you pity from the redhead, but when your pants became heavier and your hands clenched until your fingers grew pale and your nails dug into the palms of your hands, wanda couldn't help the smirk that formed on her plump pink lips.

"god, i'm so-" your words died out quickly when the witch retracted her heel from you and you gasped loudly at the sudden lack of pressure. your chest raised up and down heavily and you stared at the woman in front of you with wide eyes and a scowl.

"wanda, wha- why did you stop?" you asked, your breath catching in your throat as you tried to recover from the whiplash of your high being taken away from you so abruptly.

"that was one, malysh" wanda uttered, moving her foot ever so slightly to nudge your clit with the tip of her heel. she laughed as you whined and you couldn't help but angrily pull at your restraints. "stop being a brat, you deserve this"

you scoffed in return, your eyebrows still furrowed as you eyed the older woman. "but.. that's not fair you can't just do that, you said i could-"

wanda interrupted you with a tut, her head tilting slightly as her eyes switched from their usual beautiful green to strikingly intimidating red.

okay, maybe it wasn't the best idea to backchat a witch but at this point, you were too frustrated to care.

"you're a liar!" you spat and you watched as wanda raised her eyebrows, almost taken aback by your actions. but, you stood your ground (no matter how unnerving it was to see wanda like this) and shifted closer to the woman, only stopping when your arms strained from the pull of the ribbon as it gripped tighter against your skin.

"y/n i think you need to be sure of your words and remember who you're speaking to" wanda's voice was surprisingly gentle, her hand raising to rest on your cheek. "now let's try this again shall we?"

wanda removed her hand that caressed your cheek and with a flick of her wrist, your body moved backwards, the manoeuvre only stopping when you connected with the headboard behind you.

the redhead smiled, red eyes still focused on you to gauge your next reaction but all you did was stay put as your chest heaved in exasperation.

"good girl" the witch cooed as she lifted herself off the bed to walk over to one of your dressers. when she pulled the drawer open by the handle, wanda hummed in thought as she mulled over her options. "this should suffice moya lyubov', now.."

the redhead turned to face you, a smug smirk creeping onto her lips as she pivoted her body to show what she had pulled from the dresser.

you swallowed hard as the older woman waved a thin leather paddle in the air before bringing it down on her hand to test the waters of the impact.

that was definitely new.

"..do i need to gag your pretty mouth too or are you going to stop being a brat for mommy?" wanda asked, the sickening smug never fading as she stepped closer to you and back onto the mattress.

you shook your head no in return, not trusting how your voice would sound as you watched the woman move to tower over you. with her free hand, wanda flicked her wrist once more, instantly ridding you of the oversized t-shirt you borrowed from her half of the wardrobe.

the redhead's pupils dilated when intense revere fogged her mind, black quickly taking over red as she watched your nipples harden under the cold air. wanda licked her lips at the sight in front of her before wasting no more time as she brought down the dark red, thin paddle on one of your perky breasts.

you hissed at the contact, your chest jerking forward as you immediately felt the harsh sting of the slap that echoed throughout the silence of the room.

wanda hummed in appreciation at your reaction before going back to her original position on the bed. you whimpered when you felt the bottom of her heal once again rest itself against your clit which was achingly throbbing at her touch.

this time, your hips stayed put even though you wanted nothing more than to rut against it until you begged for the release you so desperately yearned for.

"go on, detka" wanda purred, giving you permission yet again as she smoothed the paddle over your chest, watching in awe when it raised upwards and over the erect bud of your nipples.

"mommy.." you mewled, arching your back as wanda continued her torturous slow touch on your chest. "i want to-"

"it doesn't matter about what you want anymore, shlyukha. you disobeyed me, simple as" the redhead brought down the paddle once again on your opposite breast and you let out a cry at the contiguity. "little girls earn the right to cum, you know this. now do as i say"

your bottom lip jutted in a pout before you decided to just give in and obey. wanda smiled as she watched you start to grind your hips against the bottom of her heel and a guttural moan escaped your lips in relief.

your pace soon quickened, desperate to bring yourself close to the edge when you felt that all too familiar coil tighten once more in the pit of your stomach. your walls fluttered around nothing when wanda began to slap your nipples with the paddle repeatedly.

"fuck, if only you could see yourself right now y/n. so pathetic and needy for me," wanda remarked, her abuse on your chest never failing to cease as she spoke with nothing but lust and adoration for you. "tell me when you're close again, detka"

tears threatened to spill from the corner of your eyes as the overwhelming urge to not say anything took over. but, you knew better than that, you knew you would cum hard against her heel and you wouldn't be able to hold back or pretend it wasn't happening.

so all you could do was nod as you continued your relentless pase.

"that's right little one, just keep using mommy to get off and maybe if you're good i'll make that icky feeling go away"

that was all the encouragement you needed to teeter you closer to the edge and before you could register your next movements your body had already jerked away from the older woman's shoe. you stayed there half sat up while your chest heaved and your body burned for release, but wanda's words were engraved in your brain and you'd be damned if you didn't prove you could earn the right to cum.

wanda gasped in surprise when you abruptly moved, she and her foot were already prepared to pull away at any sign of you coming undone. alas, she didn't need to and she couldn't help but beam proudly at you. "aw, malyshka, that's my girl, well done"

"shit mommy, i- please i'm sorry i promise i won't do it again"

wanda eyed you for a moment, watching as you tried to calm your irregular breathing. she trapped her bottom lip between pearly whites, biting down at the sight of you. "okay, okay" the witch uttered. "but first you're going to make mommy cum, i mean i deserve it, after all, don't i?"

your eyes widened as you shot up to sit facing wanda. "yes fuck, please can you sit on my face, i want to taste you"

wanda tutted but shifted to hover over you anyway. "such a filthy mouth, detka, let's put it to good use instead"

#wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel mcu #multiverse of madness #wandavision

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animeomegas · 4 years ago

Note

I read the Naruto Omega request with the alpha commenting about how their kid is just like their Omega (and I loved it so much) but what if the kid is just like their Alpha parent? Like the Alpha hit copy/paste of their kid and it's obvious to everyone, especially their Omega parent.

(Hehe, the reverse, interesting! I got a bit carried away in some places, but this was really fun to write! Enjoy~)

Naruto - Naruto knows his pup looks a lot like his alpha, but they're also like him!! He can see it just fine! You see the way they don't like reading kanji? He didn't like reading kanji when he was their age! You see the way they scratch their head sometimes? He does that too! As far as he's concerned there is lots of him in his child and he doesn't know why no one else seems to see it. He will definitely dress them in the worst orange clothes and style their hair like his to try and get everyone else to notice the similarities.

"No, Kakashi sensei, you don't get it! I had to walk past Ichiraku's the other day and my pup started to cry because we were in too much of a rush to go in. They have great taste, just like me, believe it!"

Sasuke - Sasuke didn't think he was the sort to care that much, but he's honestly a little shocked. Uchiha genes are crazy strong, and he's surprised that his alpha's genes are apparently stronger. He also gets kinda embarrassed because he spent his whole pregnancy telling you that the pup was probably going to look a lot like him and he was very obviously wrong about that. But in the end, he honestly kind of likes it. He doesn't have the best self-esteem and he definitely holds a somewhat subconscious belief that the Uchiha bloodline is cursed, so he finds it relaxing for his pup to look so much like his alpha. It makes him feel like they have a chance at a good life, something he didn't even realise he was worried about beforehand. He prefers his pup to look as much like his alpha as possible.

"Huh," said Naruto, giving Sasuke's pup a glance. "If you were an alpha, I'd say your mate cheated on you, but I guess the pup came out of you, so I suppose you're all good."

"Tch, idiot," Sasuke scoffed, gently brushing his child's hair (his alpha's hair that he loved so much) from her eyes. "Don't be so crude."

Shino - He doesn't really notice, not at first, too enamoured by the fact that his pup is beautiful and amazing and someone him and his mate created together. But after a few comments from others, he starts to realise how little of him seemed to be part of that creation, and he gets a bit melancholic about it. Don't get him wrong, he thinks his alpha has amazing genetics and he loves them both but... he's been excluded from a lot in his life and the fact that he appears to have been excluded from this as well. It hurts. Thankfully, as soon as the pup is old enough to start dressing in the Aburame clan clothes, everyone immediately starts calling them a mini-Shino, telling him how much like their father they are etc. He always puffs up in pride and it doesn’t take long for his friends to notice and they make sure to say that as much as possible to him. I imagine his alpha also picks up on it and goes out of their way to point out the similarities.

"I had to pull him away from exploring in the woods today," you inform Shino, having just walked in from a walk with your pup to allow Shino some peace to clean the kitchen. "He didn't like being told he wasn't old enough yet. Much like someone else I used to know~"

"Is that so?" Shino felt like his heart might burst from happiness that his child loved looking for bugs in the woods as much as he did. "I'll have to take him there tomorrow. Why? Because I want him to be happy."

Shikamaru - If his child doesn't learn to appreciate the beauty of a nap soon, Shikamaru may just have to disown him. He's joking, of course, but he's another one who firmly believed in the dominant genes in his clan, so he is shocked to find that there is now a tiny clone of his alpha running around their house. His pup and his mate gang up on him all the time… poor long suffering Shikamaru. Apart from missing valuable napping/cloud gazing time, Shikamaru doesn't care that much, although he finds it distantly amusing that the future clan head looks nothing like a Nara. Maybe they’ll gain more of his traits as they get older, maybe they won’t, they’re his precious little pup either way.

“If I promise to give you some chocolate later, will you come and take a nap with daddy?”

“No, no, no! Don’t want to! Want to play!”

Shikamaru just let out a long-suffering sigh and resigned himself to being awake for the whole day. Troublesome.

Neji – Neji is so fucking over the moon, he can’t even put it into words. The second he sees his child’s eyes for the first time, Neji starts to cry. They have your eyes. In other words, they have no chance of developing the Byakugan and therefore no need to be given the caged bird seal. The weight that lifts off his shoulders is massive. He has no room in his emotions for any sadness that his pup doesn’t look like him, because he knows how unbelievably lucky he got with this.

You sat by Neji’s bedside, pup cradled in their arms, as you waited for him to come to after the c-section surgery.

When Neji’s eyes finally fluttered open, he immediately focused on the bundle in your arms.

“It’s a little girl,” you answered, understanding his silent question. “Either a beta or an omega.”

Neji didn’t speak, simply holding out his arms to take his daughter from his mate. But just as they transferred him his pup, they whispered something in his ear.

“She has my eyes.”

An unremarkable statement to most, but Neji startled and checked immediately. You were right. She had your eyes.

Exhausted, Neji burst into tears, leaning on his alpha for support and mentally thanking every power that may be for this miracle.

Iruka – Iruka doesn’t have any strong feelings either way. He just wanted someone to love and nurture, what they look like doesn’t mean anything to him. In fact, he’s pretty happy that his pup and his alpha are so similar because it makes him feel like he knows how to parent successfully. He knows his alpha better than anyone after all, so a pup who has the same personality and motivations should be easier for him to parent. He acknowledges every comment about how much his pup looks like you with a laugh. It’s true and it is a little amusing how similar the two of you are. (Also, does Iruka take all your baby photos and then stage matching ones with your pup because he thinks it’s cute how similar you are? Absolutely.)

“Here, if you eat all your vegetables, you can have some of this afterwards,” Iruka promised to his pup, brandishing a plate of both his mate’s and his pup’s favourite food. Without even a moment of consideration, his pup started to eat his vegetables.

Iruka smiled to himself. Works every time. (On both the most important people in his life.)

Itachi – Much like Neji, he’s very relieved that his child is unlikely to be able to unlock the Sharigan. The sharigan has brought Itachi very little good and so much suffering, so knowing his child can avoid that makes him extremely happy. Not to mention, the elders pretty much discard his pup as unimportant immediately, just how Itachi likes it, and while they do start harassing him about having more children, he would much rather that they were bothering him than his baby. He doesn’t let himself be disappointed that his child doesn’t look much like him. He has a healthy and happy pup that he loves with all his heart, and who is free from the perpetual harassment from the Uchiha elders. That’s the best situation he could have asked for.

“They don’t look like an Uchiha,” a blunt twelve-year-old Sasuke said, tilting his head at the bundle in his brother’s arms like he’d never seen a baby before.

Itachi didn’t take any offence and laughed softly, still very weak from the birth.

“Well, technically they are only half-Uchiha,” Itachi answered, absently stroking his pup’s head. “And I think they’re perfect.”

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years ago

Text

Different, But The Same

; Jungkook x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

: Word Count: 1.6k

; Synopsis: It's a lovely day to hang out in the park.

; A/N: Another drabble! Inspired by the Sowoozoo Jungkook 😫 lemme know what you thought! Written and published from my phone...not proof read!

Jungkook stands in the centre of a grassy area, his tanned skin dappled from the sun that shines through the leaves of the trees above him. A gentle breeze rolls through the open park, flowing through the soft strands of his black hair.

It's safe to say that all eyes are on him, even if he's completely unaware of them. From your position just down the path, you can see the way he's standing with laser focus.

Broad shoulders strain beneath his simple black shirt, the muscles of his back being framed delightfully and leaving almost nothing to the imagination. A sleeve of intricately designed tattoos paints its way up his left arm, the black and white designs contrasting sharply against his skin whilst the red of his eyes tattoo adds a subtle pop of colour.

As you get closer, shoes crunching lightly on the gravel beneath your feet, you take note of the much smaller tattoos on his hand. Jungkook had never looked back after getting first tattoo, instead gaining an undeniable itch to add more and more to his skin.

His black shirt tapers neatly to his waist, equally black jeans held around his slim hips with an elegant belt before sliding beneath mid-calf length boots with silver buckle and thick soles. His entire appearance screams 'rockstar on a break', but you know he's nothing of the sort.

The reflective aviators perched on his nose do nothing to hide his strong brows, nor the two balls of his newest piercing on his right eyebrow. You hadn't been too sure of it at first but sure enough, you'd been won over.

It's a good job he's wearing those sunglasses, as his eyes would ruin the strong and defined image he's going for. Because nothing could hide the warmth of a thousand stars that glittered within his eyes.

He may look lust and wrath personified, but you knew that Jungkook was quite possibly the sweetest and most sensitive person on the planet. And those pretty doe eyes did nothing but give that away.

Still, you supposed he needed at least one flaw. It wasn't even a flaw really, as his eyes were perhaps your favourite part of him.

You're soon distracted away from admiring him when the tiny little girl in front of him falls onto her even smaller butt. There's a brief moment where you feel the world hold its breath, wondering if she might inhale before screaming out for all to hear.

But Jungkook is there, crouching down next to her and stretching his jeans to outrageous levels. The man has never heard of missing a gym day, much to your dual joy and sorrow.

His lips curve into a sweet smile and you hear a soft laugh leave him, the sound just loud enough for you to catch as you move closer at a faster pace. Reaching out with one tattooed hand, he gently clasps the little girls hand and helps her stand on wobbly legs.

"Good girl! You did so good, bumblebee!" Jungkook coos, his voice pitched low with a soothing note. It doesn't stop you from tensing slightly, awaiting the imminent arrival of screams from the toddler but they never arrive.

Instead, she lets out a high pitched giggle as Jungkook let's go of her hand to rest one palm on her back to steady her. He's smiling at her, his expression unbelievably fond and you just know if he wasn't wearing those glasses that his eyes would be almost closed with how much love was filled in them.

"Dada!" She squeaks, reaching out a pudgy hand and slapping it down on Jungkook's arm. The contrast of his tattooed skin against her baby soft own melts your heart, and that's to say nothing of how tiny she looks next to him.

"Yeah, dada is here, don't worry. I've got you." He murmurs, shifting forwards slightly until he can press his nose against her own. She giggles once more, this time far more shyly before pressing a wet kiss against his cheek.

There's no complaint from him though and he accepts the gesture of love from his daughter with grace. In return, he kisses her forehead before straightening back up and reaching for her hand.

Your heart contracts as she lets him take it and you note the juxtaposition of the sight before you. Jungkook, looking like a rockstar in all black, and his tiny daughter, dressed in soft yellows and whites. Without even realising, your phone is in your hand and you're snapping a photo of them both.

The quiet shutter sound catches Jungkook's attention and he looks in your direction. There's no surprise in his expression and you realise he'd probably heard you coming.

"Mommy's here." He sings lightly, his voice note perfect and so unbelievably sweet. As he does so, he swings Seoyeon's hand gently and grins in your direction.

Your daughter immediately lights up, her eyes brightening and nose scrunching. It's delightful how much she looks like Jungkook and you can't help but grin in response.

"Momi!" She screams, her feet stamping in pure, uncoordinated excitement. In fact, it's only Jungkook's strong grip that keeps her from falling over once more and you laugh as he carefully picks her up to prevent anymore accidents. Seoyeon automatically shifts into a comfortable position, letting her short legs dangle around Jungkook's side before leaning slightly against his shoulder as she smiles.

"Okay bumblebee, let's not have anymore falling, hmm?" Jungkook grins at her, his teeth pearly white as they flash. "And look, mommy got you ice cream!"

He points with his free hand, distracting her away from his sunglasses which she was currently trying to pull off. When she looks away to you, he quickly takes off his glasses and slides them to hang on the neck of his shirt.

It makes the neckline pull even further down, revealing more of his defined collarbones and delicious expanse of golden skin. He doesn't even notice your reaction because his own eyes are also on the extra cone you'd bought.

Rolling your eyes in amusement, you hand one to him before carefully letting Seoyeon take hers. Not wanting to potentially ruin his shirt, which is likely with a toddler, he gently let's Seoyeon down and snorts when she happily thuds onto the ground.

Sighing, you get down on the ground next to her and make sure she's okay before cleaning off some dirt. It's pointless though as she's already stuffed half the ice cream into her mouth, leaving the creamy sweetness to smear across her face.

You don't even say anything as you reach into the bag you always keep on hand when taking Seoyeon out and pull a wet wipe from the pack. Ignoring her grumbles of displeasure, you clean her face before letting her get back to her summer treat.

Jungkook is eating his a little more elegantly than his daughter but you can't help but snort at your husband. Twenty-nine years old and he still gets ice cream on his nose.

Realising you're laughing at him, he gives you a wide eyed look and you marvel at how sweet he looks right then. The mystery of how Jeon Jungkook can shift from sexy to innocent in the space of seconds was something that you'd been trying to figure out for ten years now and you were positive that you'd never figure it out.

Still, you were always happy to try.

"What?" He asked, his tone suspicious and you just smile angelically at him, shrugging your shoulders slightly. Eyes narrowing, he reaches over to poke your shoulder gently.

"Nothing! Just marvelling at how you and your daughter are so alike." Now his brow creases and his eyes dart from you to the apple of his eye, wondering what you're on about. Smiling, you reach forward and clean off his nose and enjoy the rose that dusts his cheeks when he realises.

"Still the same Jungkookie, hmm?" You tease lightly, using the nickname that you'd used when you first met him, twenty-five long years ago.

"Not quite the same," He smirks, rebounding from his misstep and glancing down to his tattoos before looking at his daughter. "There's a few differences."

For a moment, you simply let your eyes take him in and enjoy the fuzzy warmth in your heart. You've been together so long now, known him even longer, and yet he still made you feel like a teenager experiencing their first love.

Hopefully, it would never stop.

"I love you," The words slip from you without you even realising, but you feel no embarrassment at them. "And I love us."

Pulling Seoyeon into your lap, you give her a gentle squeeze of a hug before resting your cheek on her dark hair. So like her fathers, only his was far shorter. The greatest present that Jungkook had ever given you.

He doesn't tease you at all for your sudden declaration, instead just watching you both in turn with increasingly soft eyes. There's almost a tinge of red to them and you wonder for a moment if he was going to cry; he did that sometimes.

Instead, he just leans over and kisses Seoyeon's head. His nose brushes against yours as he does so and he takes the opportunity to whisper to you.

"I love you too, both of you." And with that, he lifts your head just enough for him to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. There's no rush to the movement and you revel in it, not letting him go immediately and tasting the sweetness of his ice cream on your lips.

In the shade of the tall trees that sway gently in the breeze that rolls through the park, you both simply enjoy your little family and the pure love that you had for each other.

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook drabble #bts drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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elsewhereuniversity · 3 years ago

Text

Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want

A university is a place where dreams are thrown away.

Such is the case far too often. It remains Real even between the railroad, highway and train tracks. Even there, people interrogate themselves: ‘This is your dream, but is it realistic? How much is the starting salary? Look at your classmates, elegantly breezing over what you clawed through, tooth and nail. Look at your competitors––’

So many choose to drown their dreams themselves… even though, at Elsewhere University, the dead do not rest quietly. The Wild Hunt is proof of that. Yes, that Wild Hunt, which rides across campus when the fog rolls in. We all know the versions in which they hunt for students unlucky (or unbelieving) enough to be outside when the hounds begin baying. Stay inside, stay quiet, and you’ll be all the better for it, if they ignore you.

What about the other versions, though? What about the versions in which it is best to open your windows and howl back? There are tales like that, too––

Sometimes, those brave enough to shout along with the Wild Hunt will be rewarded with a share of prey or gold. Those kind enough to repair a lost hunter’s sled soon discover this to be the right choice, for upon closer inspection, the hounds are not just hounds. Their bones are laden heavy with wrath.

And sometimes, villagers tell tales of a cloaked rider on a white horse. Horseshoes spark against the night breeze. He will ask you to play an impossible game of tug-of-war. If you are wise, you will tie the other end of the rope to a sturdy oak. The leader of the Hunt likes clever little things. He might even drop a reward in your boot.

Perhaps this is why you see students wearing boots for a while after they declare their majors. Even Magenta (who got her name from always wearing high-heeled loafers of that particular shade) and Ma-Boi-Blanche (who has 17 pairs of white sneakers) wore boots back then. Rumor has it, according to a friend of a roommate of a Forbidden Major, that this footwear will help you abandon your misery.

When the Wild Hunt rides as a group, they come to condemn. The RAs are not wrong in telling you to run for safety when the fog descends.

On the other hand, when the leader of the Hunt appears alone, he comes to test. In this more benign (but not safe, never safe) form, 4% meet a bedraggled man, 2% a king of old, 3% a specimen of demon (the Christian subspecies), 6% a harlequin, and 5% a sledder with a thick Mecklenburg accent.

84% of those who have survived the encounter say that the leader of the Hunt wears a cloak and a wide hat that partially hides his eyes (one of which is duller than the other). He gallops in on a splendid white horse.

95% of those who survived the encounter were wearing boots (one of them was wearing spatterdashes over court shoes, but eh, close enough).

100% of the survivors say that you must be ready to be tested. Be kind, clever, daring. If you are all that––and wary, wise, lucky too––the leader of the Hunt will let you go and stuff something in your boot. A post-it, on which is written the major that they chose, yet hated with every fibre of their being.

Now, put the boot back on and walk. It may be a bit awkward to walk around, what with the paper writhing under your feet, but do so anyway. Every student who has tried it reports that when they got back to their dorms, the paper had vanished from beneath their soles. In its place, they had gained a floating sensation, grafted in their bones.

By the end of the year, Ma-Boi-Blanche and Professor Redd were chattering away like old friends. The Professor had to admit that his student wasn’t very good at dissections, but there was an unmistakable passion for anatomy in his eyes, and he would improve soon. (Very soon, especially with Professor Redd’s talent of acquiring practice bodies, his jaunty hat growing redder with every new specimen.)

On the other side of campus, the law majors learned to listen for the click-clack of high-heeled loafers. Woe betide the unlucky people who faced off against Magenta, who suddenly threw herself into mock trials with gusto. Her opponents gained a Pavlovian fear response to seeing any shade of pink.

This did not go ignored. The Involved went up to the two, in order to warn them.

“The Gentry do not offer things for free,” they said. “And intelligence isn’t cheap. What in Morganwode did you pay?”

To which the ones who met the Huntsman merely laughed, because they weren’t any smarter. The only difference was that now, they were interested in the subjects they found so odious before.

In the old tales, a satisfied rider of the Wild Hunt will reward a human with meat. The person will walk back home in the dark, one shoe on and one shoe off, the boot growing heavier with every step. Once home, they will see that the raw, bloody meat has transformed into gold.

There are a few who still receive this, not always in the payment of gold, but in blessings. (Childe House’s oldest RA is one of them, which explains why the once-every-305-days evacuation has a 100% success rate, even when half a dozen residents don’t understand what a “mandatory house meeting” or a “fire drill” is.)

Which begs the question: why does the leader of the Hunt help so many?

Rewards are meant to be given to the exceptional few. Yet the unhappy are not part of these few. Given the number of students with newfound rapture in their eyes, one does not need to be exceptionally kind, clever, or daring to transfer their passions. Just wary, wise, and lucky are enough.

When asked, the leader of the Wild Hunt proclaimed that such a spell is child’s play. We’ve already provided the ingredients: two subjects and a passion. The price is low because all he needs to do is to sever the interest from one subject, then attach it to another. Simple work, he said. He would never think of charging so much for something he could do before breakfast. It is not befitting a warrior. Think of it as a favour from a father to his children, he said, then laughs as if there is a joke here that no one else understands.

There are more people who understand than he might think, for the more competent members of the Forbidden Major have another theory. Anyone with passing knowledge of folklore would be able to recognize this person at a glance, they say (quietly, and never to the Huntsman’s face). He is the amalgamation of ghost, fae and old god.

The first rider of the Wild Hunt might be, depending on the amount of fertilizer on the campus lawn and the moon phase, the oldest warrior poet. There are less battlefields for him to watch over now, but still he is song and madness. Still, he is overcome with fury when he sees yet another soldier buckle before the fight has begun.

This child would have made a fine skald. That child could have become a brilliant shield-maiden. This one had the makings of a king, yet they chose to push these futures away, he said through clenched teeth. These children began to think there was nothing left. They started to look at the pond and that single eighth-floor window which could open all the way.

This is not a battlefield, but… to give up before the horn sounds, under his watch?

Unforgivable, he said, with an unblinking smile, all teeth and lone glittering eye. To despair is to slander my hundred names.

So the leader of the Hunt casts a few spells here, a little trickery there, and coaxes the bright frenzy back in their eyes, or so the Forbidden Majors whisper. The price is only low because of who and why he is. He helps them so they can die more valiantly, another day.

Think of it as a favour from a father to his children, he says, then laughs as if there is a joke here that no one else understands. This is despite the fact that half the Forbidden Majors and a fifth of the Literature Majors know who he is.

(Not that they would reveal that, ever. The all-father’s wrath is a terrible thing.)

Addendum:

Statistics unavailable for those who encountered the Wild Hunt’s leader alone, while not wearing boots. Mythological references, as well as the Sword-House valet’s intuition, imply it is better not to know.

[Author’s Note]

I did not intend “Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want” to be so long. Do pardon me.

There is much debate over the identity of the Wild Hunt’s leader. My personal favourite theory is that the leader is Odin, or some variant of him, which this submission is based on. Still, I couldn’t resist hinting at the others:

“Bedraggled man” = multiple stories, in which the Hunt’s leader is any hunter who preferred hunting to going to church, or else slandered a certain god

“King of old” = Arawn

“Harlequin” = in Vitalis’ Ecclesiastical History Vol. 2 (1140), Hellequin/Herlequin is the herald of a Wild- Hunt-esque procession of tortured souls. There is also King Herla.

“Sledder with a thick Mecklenburg accent” = Frau Gauden

-Louis

#Why You Should Wear Boots after Picking a Major You Didn’t Want #stories #long post #the wild hunt #odin #louis #thanks for the note on tags! was really helpful!#very vague mention of #suicidal ideation #loved this!

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

Text

Home for the Holidays

summary: you come back home for the holidays and get a very warm welcome. pairing: stepbro!armin x female!reader warnings & content: stepcest, fingering, unprotected sex, dom!armin, sub!reader word Count: 2k-ish

a/n: umm, don't go around fucking your stepbros? i mean i can't stop you but sweet home alabama should play in your head if you do it. also sorry if this feels a bit rushed, i don't even have time to breathe | @mikasascabin @armins-futon

Pop!

Incessant, irritating sounds of gum popping, then smacking against your teeth, the annoying chewing that came out of your mouth, the infuriating tapping of your leg, the exasperating drumming of your fingers against the kitchen table — it's driving Armin insane. It's been driving Armin insane for years. And despite the fact that you're both adults now, you still can't get along. He's smart, quiet and a workaholic, you're a social butterfly who works smart, not hard.

"Armin, Y/N, you're not leaving this kitchen until you solve your conflict and apologise." His mom would say. It used to be your punishment when Armin and you were kids — and it's your punishment even know. You roll your eyes, gum popping all over your face and the tip of the nose. Armin snickers at the disgusted look on your face, mumbling a serves you right under his nose.

Sometimes you wondered if the tension between you and him was sexual. But... it couldn't be, could it? You were his damn stepsister, yet when you came back home for Thanksgiving, Armin was a whole different person. Fresh cut, a change of wardrobe, a better attitude — he was hot, no longer the nerd you used to tease. You study him from across the table after cleaning your face, lower lip between your teeth, head in your hands.

"You heard your mommy, Armin, apologise and let's get this over with."

"Me? You're the one who came home and ruined everything."

"Ruined what? A shitty dinner with a family who doesn't give a fuck about me? No, bro, I improved everything." You lean back in your chair and nonchalantly slam your feet on the table. "Not that you would know what it's like to be in my shoes, anyway."

"Your shoes? What about mine?" Armin slams his fists on the table. "At least no one expects anything from you."

"Wow, thanks." You get up and he realises just how nasty he sounded.

"Wait-"

"Fuck off." You dash past him with tears in your eyes. He was right, your father never expected anything from you, nor did your stepmother. Armin, on the other hand, was a genius, a straight A student and now he even received a scholarship from his university. Of course, people had high expectations from him and in a way, that made you jealous.

'Oh, Armin, we're so proud of you!'

'Armin, you did great!'

'Did you know Armin won an international maths competition?'

You shut the door to your room and crawl under your blanket. You always tried your best, but you could never compete with him. And your father, your ownfather, sometimes seemed to love Armin more than you. Minutes pass before you hear your stepmother rushing with your father to go visit some of your relatives and you hope Armin would go with them, but you're unlucky today. Once the car leaves the driveway, a soft knock makes you snap your neck up.

"Go away."

"Y/N, please, I didn't mean to say that."

"I don't care!" You throw a book at the door but Armin still won't budge.

"Open the damn door!"

"Why, so you can brag about how you're the perfect child?"

"So I can apologise, you... you bitch!"

Silence. Your ears ring with the word and Armin knows he fucked up big time. In a flash, the door is open and you're ready to kick him in the shin but for some reason, when you see his face, you stop.

"Apologise, then, and apologise for calling me a bitch, you little shit!"

"God, why do you hate me so much? You tormented me ever since you moved in with us!"

"Well, genius, has it ever occurred to you that maybe I never wanted this?"

"Of course it has! But you're always so cold and all I wanted was to talk to you. I don't even know your favourite colour and you're supposed to be my sister!" His voice is soft and sorrowful and you fold your arms across your chest.

"I don't want to be your sister."

"Then what do you want? You're always bitch but when I bring a girl over, you're suddenly overprotective."

"You do the exact same thing, dumbass! Every time! You act like a sad puppy but the moment you hear I'm going out with a guy you turn into some alpha male." You frown and grab the door handle. "This conversation is over."

"No, it's not." He puts his foot in the door and you narrow your eyes at his low voice and different demeanour.

"Yes, it is. Go do some studying for uni." You try to close the door but suddenly he's so much stronger. Has he been working out?

"You think this is all I do? Work and study? You think I'm some kind of teacher's pet who doesn't break rules?" You don't even realise when he's in your room, hands on your shoulders and his face so close to yours. "You think I'm an angel? A saint?" The words drip from his tongue with so much venom and your body softens. This is so unlike him but you can't help but be intrigued.

"Armin, please-"

"Oh, I'm Armin now? Not some shitty nickname? What’s the matter, can’t come up with a clever insult?" His thumb grazes over your cheek and you feel the hairs on your arms stand up. You like this side of Armin, and the fact that for three years you were his stepsister went down the drain. "I tried to be good, Y/N, I tried to be nice. But you don't like nice, do you?"

You shake your head with lidded eyes, drinking his touch, but a sharp pain from a slap wakes you up from your thoughts.

"Talk."

"N-no, I don't like nice!"

"It's unbelievable what a good girl you are when I press the right buttons."

You know it now, why you've always acted this way with Armin — you don't want him to see you as his stepsister, not even as his friend — you want to be his lover. In his ocean blue eyes, you can see that he wants the same thing — they are filled with lust and desire. You don't want to speak, afraid you might ruin this moment, but at the same time you have questions to ask and answers to get. Armin catches your mind drifting elsewhere and another slap across your already stinging cheek brings your full attention to him.

"I know what you like, Y/N. You fucked enough of my friends for me to know exactly what you want."

"Excuse me? You talk to your friends about how your sister fucks them?"

"Stepsister." He corrects you, his fingers tangled in your locks. "What would our parents say if they found out what a filthy slut you are?"

"I-" You want to say something, come up with a snarky remark, but the words die in your throat and your brain turns to mush. Armin leans closer, his hot breath tickling your ear.

"I bet I can fuck you better than any of them." He whispers and just then you feel your aching cunt begging to be filled with his cock.

"Armin..." You try again, but you still don't know if you want him to stop or carry on. It all feels so wrong but so right at the same time.

"Tell me what you want, Y/N." He nibbles on your earlobe, goosebumps dotting your skin.

"I don-" You choke on your words when you feel his hand slither under your shirt, fingers playing with your nipple.

"Come on, talk." Armin is now gently kissing the crook of your neck and your knees almost give in. Truthfully, no man ever made you feel so weak, so needy.

"Please, I want you!" You tried to whisper but it came out as a desperate cry.

"That's not good enough." He pinches your sensitive bud and you yelp, back hitting the door.

"I want you to f-fuck me, please, Armin! Fuck me good!"

"Much better." He presses his lips onto yours and he can taste the bubblegum you so annoyingly chewed when you let his tongue part open your mouth.

You don't have a clue when your clothes disappeared, scattered on the floor, along with your and his underwear, and frankly you don’t even care. Armin has you down on all fours on the mattress, two fingers pumping into your sweet cunt as you pathetically moan his name.

"Look at you! Such a filthy whore, all wet for your stepbro."

"Oh, God- want you inside-"

"I know, princess. Be patient." He curls his fingers in ways you didn't think were possible, but then you feel his tongue lazily dragging up and down your slit and you let yourself fall on the bed, face down, ass up. You had guys go down on you before, but the way Armin did it was incredible. He was meticulous, attentive, careful to let you know exactlywho owned your cunt. When he feels your thighs shake, he pulls away, earning a dissatisfied sigh of protest from you as you jolt back up.

"No, no. You're not coming yet." He yanks you by the hair, fingers gripping your chin and turning your head to the side. Armin presses his body against yours, and you feel his throbbing cock resting on your ass as he eagerly kisses you. "You taste good, don't you?"

You nod back, unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could do was push your ass against him, yearning to be filled.

"Armin, please, I need to feel you. Please!"

"Shit, I didn't think you'd be so fucking needy. Do you think you deserve it?"

"Yes, yes! I promise I'll be good from now on! Please!"

"You better keep your promise, Y/N." He growls, pushing you back on the mattress, the glistening tip of his cock positioned at your entrance. “Otherwise, I’ll have to punish you.” Inch by inch, he bottoms out and you throw your head back, spongy walls clenching around his cock. Thick and long, Armin was by far the biggest man you've been with, and you really didn't expect this. Yet when he started pounding into your cunt, you didn't regret coming home for the holidays.

"H-harder!" You beg him and you can feel his shit-eating grin burning into your back because he is the one making you feel this way, and he knows that after tonight, you'll always come crawling to him. Armin didn't waste any time, his thrusts became harsher and deeper, cock sliding in and out of you making your head fuzzy.

"You're so tight, so wet. Bet you don't get this wet for others."

"I don't! Oh, fuuuck, right there!"

Beads of sweat form on his forehead, fingers digging into your flesh as you buck your hips against his. It's been a while since he fucked you, your whimpers echoing in the bedroom, his name rolling down your tongue perfectly. You’re made for him. But all good things come to an end, and shortly you felt the need for release, thighs quaking and pleasure flushing through your entire body. Armin is close, too, but Armin also wants to humiliate you and remind you where your place is. He pulls out, cock in one hand, locks of your hair in his other.

"Promise you'll be good?"

"Promise!" You look at him with glossy eyes.

"Close your eyes." The man demands and you obey, hot strings of his seed spilling onto your face, and you lick your lips to taste him. Sinful, yet divine. Right, yet wrong. "Get yourself cleaned up."

You sit on the couch, legs on Armin's lap when your father and stepmother come back home. You can't even focus on the movie, all you can think about is your stepbrother's cock stretching you out and filling you good.

"Huh, I've never seen you two getting along this well." Your father comments. "Look at them, finally behaving like proper siblings."

"Took you long enough!" Armin's mother smiles. "What did you do?"

"We talked." Armin replies with his usual joyful voice but you know better than that. You know exactly the kind of person he is behind closed doors.

"Well, at least now we're finally a happy family." His mother pats you on the shoulder.

"Yeah," you grin, "one biiiiig, happy family."

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