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mrkerina · 2 months

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Decent ; park jisung

— (high school au) in which you’re insecure and he worries about you.

Pairing — Park jisung (nct) x fem!reader

Word count — 1384

Content — You have never gotten validation all your life, life felt a little bleak but he managed to light it up even if for only a moment.

Author’s note — I decided that i’ll post for leisure, still love the feeling of just writing. I’m a sucker for words of affirmation btw.

You look decent.

Your grades are decent.

Your skills are decent.

Decent. That is just what she was. Regardless of how much tireless effort she places in everything she does, all she ends up with is that one word - Decent.

It has never been anything more nor anything less. She felt suffocated by that word like she could never be recognised for being something more. It was as if she was just a figment of imagination in a sea of people. No one wanted someone who was just decent.

They would always go for exceptionally good people. The ones who stood out. Those that were way more skillful, talented or smart in everything they do.

It was just unfair.

Why is it that she was never anything more than decent to anyone? Why did she have to struggle so much just to try to be something better?

Perfection seemed unattainable. She felt as if she always fell short from everyone around her. She could study for days for a test but still score decently as compared to others who study the night before and still do better than her.

Maybe it was just her method of studying that was not suited for her, but to her - it felt like she just had something lacking in every aspect of her life.

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

Just like everything else in life, there are always two ends of the spectrum. In this case, Park Jisung was everything but decent. From his looks to the way he dances so flawlessly and smoothly, everything about him was exceptional.

No one is perfect, but he sure comes close to being perfect. You were envious of him. He had the reputation that everyone wanted, it felt like he had his entire life already laid out in front of him. It was easy to tell where he was headed towards, whether or not he would be successful in life. Everything just felt easy for him, while you had to constantly suffer from the pessimistic thoughts of not being able to make it far in life - ending up with a job that you absolutely hate to do.

From Jisung’s perspective though, it would be a lie if he said that his life was not easy. It did feel like he could have everything and anything he wanted, he didn’t feel like a complete failure. But that was exactly what kept him up at night - the fear of failing.

He constantly worked to make himself seem like a strong person, someone who was so accomplished and had everything set out in life. And he is successful at doing just that, in accomplishing everything he puts his mind to, everything except for you.

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

“Okay class, settle down, I will be giving back your test papers that you did two weeks ago,” the teacher’s voice roared through the class. “I would like to congratulate Park Jisung on getting full marks….again.” A round of applause sounded throughout the class as he smiled shyly at the attention as he went up to take his paper. His eyes skimmed the class and towards the girl in the corner who was just staring out of the window into space.

Unknowingly, the corners of his lip tilted down slightly and a slight wave of sadness washed through him.

As people walked to the front one by one to collect their papers, his eyes couldn’t help but drift towards you. When it reached your turn, you took the paper in anticipation but when you saw the score on the front page, your heart sank.

64%. That was the usual grade that you got and yet you still couldn’t help but feel disappointed over and over again. Your classmates were all squealing at their scores while you sat back at your seat silently. Another test that you studied hard for and yet still didn’t improve nor get a score that you wanted.

“For those who did well, good job. For those who didn’t do as well, go home and reflect, and do better next time. You are all dismissed.”

⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉⑉

You sighed in defeat, looking through your mistakes as you stayed at your seat while everyone else in class ran out of the door. Your heart felt heavy, as you started to grip the paper progressively harder the more you stare at it.

Once it was only you left in class, it was as if it was the trigger as the tears started rolling down your face. One came after another until you were full-on sobbing. The pressure just felt too much for you, and the disappointment that came with it just further aggravated the emotions that you felt.

Your future felt bleak. How can you pursue something if you weren’t good at anything?

In this vulnerable moment, a boy happened to rush into the classroom. Seemingly in a rush to grab something but got alarmed when he saw the teary-eyed girl sitting in the corner. Jisung stopped in his tracks, grimacing when the door slammed behind him causing you to jump in surprise.

You didn’t expect anyone to come in, especially him.

You vigorously jumped into action, wiping away your tears and calming yourself down. Although it didn’t exactly work, you continued to hiccup and looked away from the boy who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

He let out an awkward cough. “Um..sorry…I forgot to grab something…” he trailed off. You simply nodded in response, still facing away from him, not wanting him to see you in this state. Jisung hesitated before asking “are you okay?”

“Yes,” you softly replied, your voice slightly choked up from the lump in your throat. “I’m fine.”

The boy walked to his desk to take his phone before walking back towards the door but paused midway. In his head he knew that maybe he should just leave her alone to sort out her feelings but he couldn’t simply shake away the tightening of his chest with every sob that she quietly let out in the midst of the silent classroom.

With a goal in mind, he turned back around and quietly took a seat opposite her. His palms started sweating as his brain spun sentences on what to say or do. After a few wordless moments, he finally spoke up. “Do you want to talk about it?” He questioned softly, not wanting to scare the girl. “Uh or if you’re uncomfortable I can actually leave…maybe i’m just being intrusive, if so i’m sorry,” he started rambling.

You looked up, slightly surprised at how close he was to you. “No, it’s okay. I’m not uncomfortable, I'm just upset about my test that’s all,” you said, mumbling the last part.

“64% is pretty good. Why are you sad? Cheer up okay, there is always a next time!” Jisung smiled trying to be optimistic but stopping when he watched the girl scoff.

“You can say that because you got full marks.”

“Huh what, no, of course not. I’m just saying it is pretty good considering half the class failed.”

You sighed, shoving your test paper in your bag before zipping it up. “It’s just a decent score, there is nothing good about it,” You muttered. “Nevermind, you can go, I’ll be fine. You’re right, it is just another test I did decently in. Whatever. I’ll just leave after I look better, you can go though, thanks for checking in on me.”

You looked back out the window, resting your chin on your palm, expecting him to leave. However, instead, Jisung grabbed a pen from your pencil case and took a post-it paper that he kept under his table before scribbling on it. He left it on the corner of your table before quietly turning around to leave.

“Just text me if you ever need help in anything or uh just need someone to talk to okay?” He said before closing the door behind him.

You looked at the post-it after the door closed with a thud. Your heart warmed reading it, your lips stretching into a small smile. Hope bloomed in your chest, maybe everything will be okay.

You are never just decent to me.

You did well, I’m proud of you :)

It’ll get better.

Here is my number if you ever need it

061-321-3928

— Jisung.

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storm-priestess · 2 years

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▪°•○♡ DETAILS ON YOUR NEXT ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP ♡○•°▪

(all pictures taken from weheartit)

○ Pile 1 ○

this person challenges you career-wise, as well as regarding your self worth

they will make you question why you let others treat you like shit, most likely at work, school, or in friendships

I'm getting that they give you pep talks, hype you up and remind you that you deserve to be respected and loved

very power couple vibes, albeit not super romantic, there's a lot of affection here

they'll support you through all the late nights stuck at the library or working overtime, cheering you on

this is extremely sweet :')

they like sending you messages when you're apart, letting you know that they're thinking of you <3

I can't get over how powerful this is, they truly help you see your inner light. whether this relationship lasts or not, you'll carry their influence with you forever and will never regret the time you spent with them, if only bc they helped you climb out of a dark space

they really, really care about your well-being, almost forcefully

VERY mulan and li shang vibe, although I get the sense you're a bit more nervous and self critical than mulan was in the movie

they're just so invested in you knowing your worth, it's beautiful

○ Pile 2 ○

whirlwind romance vibe, but I feel like your intentions are a bit mismatched. one of you is more interested in the romance and intrigue of it all, the other just a fun time

this could be on-and-off again, with one of you clinging onto the relationship a bit more emotionally than the other

a tendency to cling onto the other, trying to coerce them into putting more of themselves into the connection

regardless, this is a really fun time you guys have

towards the end things may get a little messy, but alongside the bomb sex the spontaneity permeates the rest of the relationship and you guys genuinely enjoy one another's company

I feel like it starts rather abruptly, and hinges on physical attraction to get the ball rolling. then you start texting, meeting up for casual dates/sex, etc, and then one of you catches a bit more intense feelings… (the other is still invested, just maybe not as… obsessed might be too strong of a word, but you get what I mean)

it does seem a bit unbalanced, but if you're honest about what you want out of the relationship you have a stronger chance of getting it. I do see evidence of effort coming from both sides to keep the relationship going, so hopefully you guys can find a peaceful balance that satisfies both of your needs

○ Pile 3 ○

this feels very different from the first two piles… I think this is more for just one person, or a small group of you. it feels like a personal reading

you're the enigmatic one in your friend group. you do what you want to do and are so charismatic that others follow you (not in a cultish way lol, they just love the fun that you incite. it's very sweet)

you've recently moved on from an ex or a crush that you pursued and their rejection bruised your ego a bit. you've just about recollected the rest of your diminished spark and are setting out anew, possibly determined to focus on yourself from now on

but you're met with a bunch of options… you've gained a lot of romantic attention and people are starting to come forward, or at least flirt a lil bit, shoot their shot, slide into dms, whatever

you're just focusing on your friends for now tho, no intentions of jumping right into a romantic relationship….

but it finds you. you don't even have to try

some of you… may realize things about your sexuality. you're attracted to a wider variety of people. that, and/or one of your close friends starts to look mighty interesting…

this is a deep connection. not just a fling or a gateway into discovering the depth of your sexuality, but a really beautiful pairing that means a lot to both of you

you might be at a party and drunkenly kiss your friend, only to laugh about it and carry on

but it becomes less funny later on

you won't be able to stop thinking about it

either that, or you're just hanging out with your friends and have a realization

regardless, this catches you completely off guard

this is really, really special

there's a lot more under the surface here, but it's not for me to convey. things are meant to unfold naturally from here on out. you also probably won't be able to get anymore information on this from other sources (pacs, youtube vids, etc). it feels a bit like the universe is wiping the dirt off their hands and being like 'there. I told you. figure the rest out yourself.'

take it one day at a time guys <3 everything will work out fine

#pac reading #tarot pac #pick a card #pickacard #romance #romantic relationship #love relationship #next love relationship #next relationship #general pac #hope you guys are doing well! <3 #enjoy :)

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muikitoo · 10 months

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~You leave Muichiro..~

im so incredibly sorry i havent posted any fics :( i ran out of ideas and im currently trying to find any possible ideas for fics😥

"And i will gladly break it, i would gladly break my heart for you..~" —Sweet by CAS

You and Muichiro werent currently doing so good. Always being stressed out and fights almost every other day werent making the situation any better. You would try to be patient with him, tho you felt like he didnt even care. He barely put any effort. Yea he was stressed and had other hashira things to do but how come the other hashiras had plenty of time and he didnt? You honestly got sick of it. He didnt understand you or your feelings.

One day you finally decided to meet up. You were honestly so done with him, you loved him and theres no doubt about that. You loved him so much it was crushing you. You didn't feel cared for, you knew he still loved u but it hurt regardless.

"Hey. You wanted to meet up?" You heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Yea, I did. I needed to talk to you about something." You said, nervousness starting to bubble inside of you as you turned around to face the mist hashira.

He waited patiently before you started to speak again. "I want to break up with you. Don't get me wrong, i still love you. I do. But im sick and tired of trying to wait for you. I dont feel loved or cared for, i know it seems stupid bc youre stressed and have duties, but how come even all the other hashiras have time and you suddenly dont? I know you care, but sometimes i even doubt that. Do i even cross your mind at all? I'm sorry Muichiro, but i think this is best for both of us."

He felt his heart being ripped apart. He had a feeling this would happen, since youve been distant with eachother. He stood there, his mouth slightly opening to say something.

"Okay, if thats what you want." He regretted saying that. But he didnt know what else to do in a situation like this. You scoffed as you started to walk away, he stood there, silently watching until you were out of his sight. He felt his breath hitching, eyes starting to water. He really messed up. And he knew it. Muichiro did care and he loved you more than anything. He was so overwhelmed with the recent missions he's been getting, and on top of that his memories from his past were eating him alive. You were the only reason he wanted to hang on. But now you were gone too.

He slowly turned around as he began to walk away, tears falling down his cheeks.

The next few months were hellish. The mist hashira was a wreck and it was obvious. He tried to forget you like always, but every time he saw you the gut-wrenching feeling would always return. Heck even the hashiras noticed and tried their best to find ways to cheer him up.

All he could do now was watch from a distance as you got closer each day to another demon slayer, Tanjiro Kamado. Honestly, Muichiro knew the boy could treat you better anyday. And if it meant you would be happy now without him in your life, then he wouldnt mind getting his heart broken. As long as its for you.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kny x you #muichiro tokito #demon slayer muichiro #kimetsu no yaiba manga #kny muichiro #muichiro x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muichiro #muichiro angst #angst #kny angst #demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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stardusthuntress · 8 months

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The Right Attire

Hunter x AFAB!reader

Word Count: ~4.6K

TW: reader has anxiety and some vague, poor past experiences with attempting to be sexy; Hunter is a sweet, comforting, feral partner; the anxiety thing is just a vague attempt at plot so it’s not just smut, but really it’s mostly smut anyways, hehe! Basically, this begs the question: how would Hunter react if his partner put on something tempting and sexy? Needless to say: minors begone!

A/N: I found the below pic on pinterest (I know, not the best way to cite something, sorry, and sorry for the terrible quality of the image!) and it inspired me to write a fic about something similar! I’ve wanted to do something like this but always struggled with it, just like the girl in the image, and I thought this might be a good way to work through those nerves. Feels weird saying I relate to it though, considering I look very different than the depicted female… but I'm not sure why I feel weird about it, I know I shouldn't feel weird about that considering I can still relate to it... Anyways tho, reader isn’t described in detail except to say that she has female body parts so hopefully this works for you regardless of whether you can relate to the image or not! I loved the comments on the image, so hopefully you can still read those too!

I'm considering making this into a series of sorts with one fic for each of the batchers, considering how they would each respond to a partner doing this for them. But I'll probably only do that if people like the idea? What do you guys think? Comments on this idea are welcome!

Just in case it needs to be said again, minors DNI!!!

She was nervous, there was no way around it. She’d only done something like this once, and it hadn’t even remotely gotten the desired effect. To say the least, she’d been flat out ignored. And she hadn’t even gone all out for that partner like she did this time. She didn’t want that experience to hold her back, she wanted a chance to be free to do fun things like this when she wanted for her partner, knowing it would be fun for both of them. But the fear that it would once again be received as poorly as it had last time wouldn’t let her go. It wouldn’t let her pack up the courage and step through the open doorway that she was hiding next to. She leaned against the wall, trying to pack up the courage to just do it. Instead her fears were getting the better of her. With every passing second, she felt less and less like she would ever be able to walk though that door like this. But she’d put so much effort into it, finding the right red and black lace lingerie set that was the right combination of attractive (to catch his eye and hopefully make him just a little feral) and modest (to make her feel okay enough to actually put the damn thing on). But with every second that passed she only succeeded in convincing herself she was not ready for this.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the door jam tightly to keep from trembling. Hunter was in the other room, doing his own thing, with no idea what she was going through in the hallway. Or so she thought.

In the other room, somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Hunter had sensed her presence approaching. But he didn’t tune into it until his subconscious informed him that she had been standing just out of view in the hallway for quite some time without ever actually entering the room.

Worried, he turned towards the door, but didn’t make any moves towards it just yet. Using all his heightened senses to the max in an attempt to figure out what was bothering the woman he loved so much that she wouldn't enter the room. On the edge of the door jam, resting where she thought he couldn’t see it, her fingertips peeked into the room. The pads of her fingers were white from the strength of her grip on the doorframe.

Hunter stood still and focused on her fingertips for a moment. He could hear her heartbeat. It seemed rather frantic or nervous. And she kept taking deep breaths. They were soft, and barely audible, even to his ears, but clearly nerves.

Suddenly those fingertips slipped away from the doorframe, and he could hear the soft padding of her feet slip away across the hallway, retreating towards their shared room as quietly as possible. That’s when he knew he had to do something.

With a few quick steps he burst into the hallway to catch his lovely partner before she tried to deal with it all by herself again. He wanted to be there for her for everything, whether or not she needed him there.

It wasn’t until he slipped a gentle arm round her waist as she tried to cross into the bedroom that he figured out what it must have been related to. Instead of her usual cotton comfort clothes, his arm brushed against the softest silky material. That was new. She never wore anything except her favoite lounge clothes when they were at home. This was a silken robe that she seemed to be desperately pulling tighter around her as she tried to avoid his eyes. He could feel her heart rate speeding up with nervousness as she glanced desperately around the floor, but for what he wasn’t sure.

Carefully, he spun her towards him so he could figure out what it was. His arms cradled her to him gently, knowing she was too nervous to look at him right now. Instinctively, he pulled her face to his chest so she wouldn’t feel forced to look at him if she didn’t want to. His hands ran up and down her back and arms to soothe her, but beneath the silken robe he could feel her trembling.

“What’s wrong, Love?” Hunter’s calm voice matching the gentle strength with which he held her.

“Nnn-nothing,” she mumbled against his bare chest, the turmoil of getting caught by the very man she had initially wanted to catch her 20 minutes ago, but now wanted to hide from, swirling through her mind, turning her thoughts to mush.

“I know you better than that,” Hunter whispered against her temple, one hand stroking her hair, the other pausing to rub the sleeve between his fingers. “What’s this pretty, soft robe?” He asked softly, no pressure to answer if she didn’t feel up for it.

“Don’t worry about it… it’s… not important,” she mumbled again.

He pressed a tender kiss to her temple, hands returning to running up and down her back, comfortingly. As his hands continued up and down in soothing patterns, he noticed the silky fabric seemed to catch every so slightly on what felt like swirling patterns of fabric beneath the thin material. He could feel her legs against her own, no soft pants keeping her even softer skin from his. And he could smell her natural musk stronger than usual. That implied she wasn’t wearing much under that delicate little robe. He hugged tighter, thinking she must be cold, swaying back and forth just a little.

Suddenly he stilled, her reasons for sneaking around with a soft robe and little to nothing else beneath it became clear to him. He pulled back a bit, so he could look down at her. She felt him pulling back and looked up at him with a worried expression. But his eyes weren’t looking at hers, his eyes were more focused on where her hands still gripped the opening of the robe to pin it tightly closed, as though she was afraid to let him see more of her beneath it.

His eyes skimmed her trembling form, then returned to her eyes. “Is this…?” He couldn’t keep his eyes on her worried expression, he kept glancing at her white knuckled grip on the robe. He wrapped one hand around hers, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. “It’s alright Love, you know I love you.” He crooned, forehead resting against hers so he could look into her watery eyes. Her hands were relaxing just a little beneath his comforting movements.

They stood still, just breathing for a few moments. His presence and gentle habits soothing her nerves, allowing her grip on the hem to loosen ever so slightly.

“May I?” He asked, ever so slightly beginning to try to tug her hand away from clutching the robe shut.

She tensed against him, worry painting her brows as she looked away.

“Please?” He asked so politely, “It’s okay, I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

She closed her eyes for a second, and took a deep shuddering breath. It was then hat he knew he’d wait an eternity for her to feel comfortable enough to open up to him.

“I’ve got you,” he crooned, “I’m here for you. You can say no.” He waited patiently, rocking gently, and holding comfortingly.

After a few moments, she trembled less and he could feel her relaxing against him again. Slowly, her grip on the edge of the robe slipped away.

Conscious she seemed nervous to let him see, he decided he needed to do more to reassure her. So he scooped her hand into his own, and brought her graceful fingers to his lips. His eyes closed automatically when he kissed her knuckles. And when his lips departed from her hand, they didn’t move far. His lips and breath still danced over her hand, as his eyes slowly opened. His half-lidded eyes found a look of surprise and awe in hers as she watched him intently.

His gaze slowly trailed back down to the hem of the robe now resting on her chest. The tiniest hint of lace peeked out of the edge as he ran the back of his fingers down the line between fabric and the woman he loved. Ever so gently so that she barely even felt it, he let one finger slip beneath the edge, and he rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers.

“I like this material,” he murmured, thoughtfully, going slowly to give her more time to decide if she was okay with this.

She smiled shyly, ducking her head, afraid to admit she was glad he’d a) noticed and b) liked the fabric. She’d tried to think through every detail, not sure how any of the fabrics nor lace patterns would pair with his heightened senses. The corner of her lip twitched up as she looked away, heat rising in her cheeks. Despite her initial panic, maybe this was going okay after all? Her extra effort seemed to be paying off, so far.

She took a deep breath as Hunter pulled back enough that he could untie the robe and begin to unwrap her frightened exterior.

He watched her face carefully as she closed her eyes and took one more deep breath, before looking back at his eyes and nodding at him; her way of giving him permission to continue with his current actions.

Hunter smiled and let his eyes return to the tie looped round her middle. The loose knot came undone without much effort, allowing the fabric panels shielding her from his eyes to slip away.

Hunter’s jaw hit the floor, and his eyes widened. HIS colors adorned her in the most delicate and beautiful little lace number he’d ever seen.

“WOW,” he whispered, unable to restrain himself. His self control was wearing thinner and thinner with each passing second. Slow enough that she could easily push him away if she didn’t want it, his hands reached for her hips.

She’d looked away when she finally let him reveal herself to him. Fear of a repeat of a lack of appreciation for her effort distorting the hope in her minds eye. But his whispered awe and the way his fingertips danced over the details as he carefully examined the pretty patterns of roses and skulls woven into the lace, brought her attention back to him.

The way he kept licking his lips and swallowing hard as he admired every detail, captured her attention. She’d never had a partner as hungry for her as he was in that moment. His eyes roamed every inch, as he fingers followed, far more soft and appreciative than she’d ever expected a former soldier could be.

His desperate gaze returned to her face as his arms wrapped around her hips, and he let his forehead rest against hers as he stole one more glance downward. Words were not within his capacity anymore.

Her palm found it’s way to his chest, just to rest, settling comfortably there. To her surprise, his chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried desperately to get his hormones under control. He quickly moved one hand from her back to her hand on his chest, holding it against the bare skin of his chest so she could feel his heartbeat like he could always sense hers.

“Damn, woman. You look gorgeous!” His whispered fervently against her temple, he could barely control himself anymore.

She giggled and hid her face in his neck, letting the occasional giggle surface as she too tried to get her breathing patterns back under control too.

As she nestled into his chest and neck, her scent flooded his senses. Hunter leaned his head towards hers, placing a kiss on her check, and letting his nose nudge her ear as he took a deep breath of his favorite scent in the galaxy: her.

She could feel his length hardening against her abdomen as he clutched her tightly to him, his arms wrapped beneath the robe still draped over her shoulders as he let his nose and lips drift softly down her neck. He began to dot languid kisses across the skin now exposed to him, as they became more and more open mouthed and hungry the farther down her neck and shoulders his lips traveled.

Unable to hold back any longer herself, she whimpered beneath his ministrations.

Hunter groaned in response. He knew she never fell apart this easily, she must have really wanted this, wanted him! And boy did he want her badly right now!

Still standing in the hallway, not far from the bedroom door, his hands gripped her hips and steered her backwards against the wall.

Leaning heavily against her as he gently pinned her to the wall, Hunter surfaced, gasping for breath as he let his head rest against the wall next to hers. She too was panting heavily, he noticed, but there was something more to it too.

He leaned back enough to look into her face. She was smiling as she clung to him, but in the dim light from the room he’d left only moments before he could see something glistening on her cheek and in her eyes. She was crying.

He found himself driven to cup her cheek and use his thumb to wipe the tear track from her beautiful face.

“Was that okay?” He asked, concerned that he might have let himself go too far, still petting her check with his thumb.

She laughed faintly, nodding happily. “It was wonderful, Hunter.” She pecked his cheek, but let it linger a bit. Hunter hummed in delight, subconsciously leaning into her affections.

Hunter racked his brain, trying to figure out why her tears carried the scent of both relief and sorrow when the rest of her suggested they should be purely tears of joy. He wanted her to only feel happiness from a moment like this, so he peppered her cheeks and nose with kisses until she giggled and wriggled a bit in his grasp.

When he stopped, she nuzzled back into his chest, and he held her tight. He could feel her smiling against him again. Relieved that her spirts were picking up, he placed a long kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you for taking that so well,” she muttered against the hairs on his chest as her fingers played with them ever so slightly.

“Why wouldn’t—“ he cut himself off, her former nervousness painting a picture for him that he didn’t like. “Someone didn’t take this well in the past?” He asked, delicately.

She did her best to hide the tension in her limbs when he asked, but he loved her too much fonot to notice. He could feel the slight inhale and teeth clenching as her posture shifted into one of an anxious insecurity.

His hands returned to their soothing stroking up and down her back and shoulders and he clutched her to him.

“Well, I love this,” he stated, using the wall as an anchor as he slid one hand beneath her ass to hoist her into his arms. Feeling her warmth through the sheer fabric and her heartbeat so close to his sparked his hunger for her again, he walked swiftly to the bed and clambered onto it, placing her down on the comfy surface. He leaned back again to let his eyes roam her body again and again. The robe had fallen off one shoulder during his quick adjustments to get her to the comfort of their shared room. She rested on her elbows, biting her lip as she looked up at him, brows furrowed with anxiousness, knees on either side of his hips. “I really love this.” He swooped back down to her, needing to feel her warmth against him again, pressing hot kisses to her neck and upper chest. “Just like I love you.” He whispered in her ear, “so much.” His panting was growing louder and louder as his hands roamed her body. “I will always love you… always!… and things like this.”

He groaned loudly as she pressed up into him, wanting to feel his hardness where she needed it most. Needing the same, he kicked off his pants and boxers then gripped her thigh and maneuvered it to once again wrap around his hips, like she’d done when he’d picked her up only moments ago.

In response, she quickly wrapped her other leg back around his waist and locked her ankles behind him. Hunter moaned again in satisfaction, pressing her into the bed with everything he had. There was no holding back now, he needed her to know how deeply he wanted her right now.

She could feel Hunter losing control, becoming more and more feral with each passing breath that danced across her skin.

He seemed to be enjoying alternating between the different sensations of tasting her through the sheer fabrics and slipping his hands and tongue beneath them.

“Will you keep this on for me, Babe?” He asked, panting hard as he searched for her eyes again.

She shyly glanced away, trying hard to look back at his eyes, but the intensity with which he looked at her made her nervous. She’d never had someone this hungry for her before. It made it difficult to find any words at all to tell him what she wanted, even though she knew that’s what they both needed her to do right now.

“Oh! Dank ferrik! You want me to take this off of you, don’t you?” Hunter’s excitement was palpable.

She bit her lip and nodded, eyes finally able to look into his for more than a second or two again, grateful he’d put it to words when she couldn’t.

Hunter’s restraint snapped when she nodded. His roaming grip on her tightened, his groans deepened, and his lips and teeth became less forgiving as his need to mark his woman in appreciation rose to an all time high. Feral Hunter was loud and needy, and she loved it.

Her hands gripped him to her with a strength he had only seen on the battlefield as she arched beneath him. One hand fisted in his hair, the other letting her nails scratch their way down his back, making him shiver with arousal.

His hands still roamed and massaged with intensity as his mouth explored, fervently.

Too needy to move the pretty lace off of her wetness, he began thrusting against her, making the bed bounce. The friction of the lace spreading the wetness of her arousal across his cock was one of the most amazing sensations, he decided. And based on the way she’d thrown her head back and began meeting his every thrust with one of her own, she must also have liked it as much as he did.

Desperate to make her fantasies come true, his fingers searched the delicate lace and silky straps crisscrossing her back in a frenzy until he figured out how to get it off of her.

Suddenly between thrusts she became aware of the cool air of the room on her chest again and realized he had figured out how to unwrap his present. She looked back down at him as his thrusts slowed and found him admiring the soft patterns on her wrappings, before winking up at her and diving down to suck her nipple into his mouth. The force of his thrusts picked up again, making him moan into her breast with every push of his hips. The bed shifted and squeaked beneath them, but they didn’t care.

Hunter’s strong grip squeezed the plush of her thighs as he massaged and spread them. His lips slipped from her breasts with a pop and began to trail languid, open mouthed kisses down her tummy towards his favorite taste in the galaxy.

His fingers danced beneath the pretty lace and satin straps, playing first with the lace and then with her folds as his nose nudged her clit. He paused for a moment, breathing deep, letting his nose and lips press against her through the mesh of fabric.

Without warning, he licked a quick stripe up the lace and plunged a finger as deep into her as her body would let him.

She arched with a breathy squeal. The feeling of Hunter smirking against her as his lips sought her pearl through the lingerie making her pant harder. When his mouth found it’s goal, he sucked hard, wanting to keep her back arched like that for as long as possible. And just when she thought he might let her relax it, he curled his finger into her, pressing into that lovely spot deep within.

There was no holding back the impassioned way she cried out with pleasure when Hunter turned feral like this. Once again, she found herself white knuckling the fabric around her, but this time it was the bedsheets as Hunter rewarded her courageous attempt to rile him up with his unbridled, passionate affections.

She was still panting hard, the arch in her back unrelenting as he massaged a second finger into her to press into that spongey spot. His fingers moved in small circles as he did his best to give her sensations of both thrusting and attention to that little, internal button.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted her tight grip on the sheets. His free hand shot out to slide his fingers between her own. He wanted to feel her desperation for him. He needed to know how good he made her feel.

Her fingers closed tightly around his own, as he continued to suck on her pearl and swirl his fingers inside her. The circles he rubbed into her insides became more tighter, mirrored only by her grip on his hand.

As she neared her release, he became desperate to feel her coating his cock as they climaxed together. His need quickly grew into an uncontrollable desire, and he quickly pulled out of her.

Her squeak of despair only spurred him on as he quickly sucked her juices from his fingers. Only letting his eyes roll back and close for just a moment, before popping back open to focus on her as he crawled hungrily up her body. On his way, he licked a strip across one nipple, enjoying her noises.

He hovered over her, his hunger evidence in his eyes as they bore into her own.

“Hunter,” she murmured, voice a little hoarse.

Hunter smirked, watching her lips for a moment, barely holding himself back from continuing to ravage her as he attempted to catch his breath.

He licked his lips, finally able to find his voice again, “I need… to be inside you,” he panted.

“Yes, please!” She whispered against his lips as she tugged him down to bring his mouth to hers again.

Hunter groaned happily, aware and proud of how often she’d pulled such noises from his lips tonight.

As she clung to him, he rolled, putting her on top of him, and manuvering her legs parallel to his own. His hands returned to grasping at the plush of her hips, but this time from beneath the stretchy straps. He used his thumbs to coax the last of her garments down her thighs.

She tried to wriggle off of him to help him get it off, but he wasn’t having it. His hands immediately left her hips, sliding upwards until he could hoist her body higher up his own until her breasts were level with his face, careful not to smack her into the wall behind them. She giggled as he rolled her again, using his tongue on her breasts to encourage her to keep her body flush against his own as he maneuvered her panties from her body. But instead of flinging them across the room, like he usually did, he stashed them under his pillow with one hand, still sucking her breasts as he did so.

“Oh, Hunter!” She cried out, watching him.

Hunter chuckled against her, licking his way down her body again, leaning to one side for one last taste of her pussy before again covering her with his own body. His lips sought the companionship of her own as soon as his heat settled over hers. Teeth clashed and tongues entwined, as their arms and legs tangled together. He ground his length down against her wetness, making sure they were both well lubricated as he adjusted his hips to line himself up.

“You ready, Babe?” He asked, mouth never leaving hers.

“Hurry up and get inside me, Handsome,” she breathed back against his lips.

Slow and sensual was no longer on Hunter’s agenda after a request like that. With a groan, he thrust in fast and hard. She arched against him, and he could feel the vibrations of her humming in ecstasy against his tongue as she began rolling her hips against his own. Hunter began to frantically hammer her into the bed, both of their rhythms rapidly deteriorating into erratic patterns as they neared their releases together. The way her walls pulsed, tugging him deeper and deeper with every thrust only urged him to thrust harder.

“Where?” He gasped, worried he wouldn't be able to pull out in time if she asked for it.

“IN,” she nibbled his lip, “Inside! Inside!” Her desperation leaving her stuck on repeat for a moment until his tongue distracted her as he moaned in acknowledgement.

He enjoyed the feeling of her bouncing against him as they both hit their peaks, simultaneously. They both cried out, lips separating, as they skyrocketed into hyperspace, clinging tightly to each other. As he pulsed within her, her fluttering walls continued to tug him deeper and deeper.

Slowly, each found their way back to the present moment, but made no move to unwrap their intertwined limbs. Instead, they simply remained where they were, reveling in the feeling of their shared wetness as it overflowed. Hunter shifted slightly, enjoying the feeling of tightness still clinging to him.

She stroked his hair, attempting to fix his bandana, which must have been set askew when she tugged on his hair earlier.

Hunter laughed as he relaxed against her, using one hand to swipe the bandanna off of his head, and slip it onto hers instead.

She laughed too, stealing a few more kisses from his lips.

He propped himself up with his forearms framing her face, and looked down at her, glad that he was able to wipe the insecurity from her mind.

Beneath him, she continued to lean up and snag kisses here and there, making him chuckle again. He returned his head to the crook of her neck, still on top of her, her legs locked around his waist.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” He asked, uncharacteristically shy.

“Yes!” She whispered back, “I’d gladly stay like this until tomorrow morning… if that was something you wanted?”

Hunter hummed his agreement, and made himself comfortable atop her, tugging a blanket over the top. “Wake you up in the morning to more if you’d like?” He mumbled against her neck, as the sleepiness began to set in.

He could feel her smile against his hairline as she whispered back, “Yes, please!”

“And can we get you more of these soft lace things?” He asked, his hand playing with the piece he’d hidden beneath his pillow earlier. “And can we do this more often?”

“I’m glad you liked it that much. I wasn’t sure if you would. Do you want to pick the next one out with me?” She murmured.

Hunter shivered in anticipation, and licked her neck in answer.

“I take that as a yes?” she giggled.

“Mmm-hmm,” he grinned, nuzzling into her hair, “I will gladly help with that!”

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

Again, please let me know if you think I should make a series with one fic for each of the batchers (and maybe a few bonus Boys in Blue and/or Orange too!)

taglist: @amorfista (I'm pretty sure I'm missing a few people tho, I need to make an actual signup thing for this soon)

#tbb hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter smut #zenith writes

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irenadel · 10 months

Text

Fear Leads the Way ch.3

Filthy smut ahead, now with more blood kink. Mentions of slavery. Some unhealthy power dynamics because DUH. Darth Maul x Reader and I think we can finally admit Savage Opress x Reader. He doesn’t like it tho. He will NOT go gentle into that good night.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The first time Maul cries in pain in your arms Savage sees red and thinks he will, at long last, be able to kill you. And you think you might let him.

It had taken weeks and weeks to get there and it wasn’t Maul who pushed through. The moment you had agreed to hold him at night it had seemed to be enough for Maul. As if all he had required to be content was for you to stop fighting his ownership of you. As if he knew once you did, you’d have nothing left but him.

You were no longer confined to their quarters… and admittedly no longer afraid to leave them lest you be punished the way you’d heard unruly pleasure slaves were. It was a strangely lonely experience though. You had even less to do than before, focusing solely on what was required of you by the Zabrak brothers (never Savage’s own cybernetics, no matter how much you winced at hastily laid out circuits and patched up nerve arrays, Maul was an excellent mechanic, but no biomechanical engineer) and you have to admit it may have been driving you a little insane. You used to do small tasks now and again for the syndicates: emergency procedures, hydraulic adjustments, little hacking jobs… part of you still hoping to save up enough to buy your freedom the way you’d heard some Hutt slaves still did. You’d worked for whoever would pay and sometimes whoever would not, as some of the higher ups in the Shadow Collective had decided to consider you at their general beck and call, so long as it didn’t interfere with your duties to Lord Maul.

Not anymore.

You are so indisputably Maul’s now that you wonder how you could have ever thought you were his before.

You never heard him announce it but somehow everyone seems to know and now they give you a wide berth. The Black Suns who used to sneer at you avoid making eye contact and the few Hutt emissaries that remain to try to make peace with the Shadow Collective have resorted to offering Maul a nicer, prettier bedslave. Maybe a more comely one, lither, less used up. You try not to show how you bristle at that. The Mandalorians, about as terrifying as the Sith Lords themselves, stand aside respectfully when you pass them by (you try not to think about how often you do pass one because you don’t want to acknowledge how much you’re being watched). For their part, the Pykes seem oddly pleased at the strange turn of events their little gift has produced, yet still continue their refusal to acknowledge you. That you understand. You were little more than a thing to them, and it was bitter, to have ended up here anyway, despite your best efforts. It tasted like copper and rage when you let yourself think about it too much, like a storm inside you brewing the desire to make someone, anyone, pay for this… and whenever you did and he was nearby, you saw Lord Maul glance your way, like a trained Tatooine massiff picking up the scent of blood.

In those moments, regardless of whatever else he might be doing, he would gesture for you to come near and would take your hand and hold it to his face, to his lips, almost smiling.

He didn’t look at you. He didn’t address you. But he kept you close, no chains, no locks, nothing else necessary to hold you but the sheer gravity of his presence. You hated it as much as you loved it.

You hated when he sneered at the Hutt party’s sniveling suggestions of an upgrade and you felt your stomach clench in fury and vindication. You hated the beautiful black gowns he kept leaving for you near the fresher, because you hadn’t seen fabric so heavy and fine and good since even before the war. Your mother had never had anything as beautiful as these. You held them to your face and refused to cry or tear them to pieces, you just put them away and continued to wear your old mechanic jumpsuit.

You didn’t hate lying beside him at night, no matter how much it stung your pride… but you did hate how touch seemed to be all he wanted from you. There had been no further amorous interludes after the first two, not in this bed, not the moment that Maul found out he could have the whole expanse of his arms and back and chest and neck touched at his pleasure. He had demanded that immediately and you had complied, and in your terrible fear of servitude and vulnerability you had never even imagined that touch was all that would pleasure him indeed. Or that it would be you, who would end up needing more, longing for his growls against your ear and the frantic grinding of his hips against yours. You didn’t hate his imperious commands for your hands, never detailed, never more than once, as if his dignity would not allow it (no thought to yours, ground to dust already by your humiliating longing for him). But you did hate how eagerly you jumped to obey and provide him all he wanted. Enough for Lord Maul but not for you and more than enough for his brother, who still slept fitfully besides you, always attentive to whatever noises the two of you would make. You couldn’t have ever known how right his vigilance had been.

Maul sighed and you could feel Savage about to jump out of his skin. Maul growled gravelly in his sleep, contentedly against the crook of your neck and you could almost feel Savage waiting to pounce. You had expected many things from your fate as his possession, but not this constant vigil.

You hadn’t expected to be so uncomfortably starved for his affection.

In all the stories you had heard whispered in Nar Shadda, in all your years as a refugee, making cybernetics for the poor and the destitute like you, living so close to slavery you could almost feel the bite of a Zygerrian collar or a Hutt implant, you had never imagined you’d be the one wondering when you would be kissed next. Or that you could hold someone so close you could feel twin hearts beating and still want more, need more, in spite of your terror and resentment of him.

The problem was that he purred. Lord Maul of the Shadow Collective purred loudly and constantly, rumbling, along the length of your body, lying between your legs, warm and hard and musky. He purred and it made everything inside you clench, desperately, hungry for his own hunger, for his tongue and his teeth and his hand wrapped around your neck, so tight and good you could still feel the thrill of it. For everything you had not asked for but still missed, for another go at his mouth and hearing him say please and ruin and want.

The second problem was that Savage purred too. Not as intimately close as Maul’s body draped across yours, but louder. Not at first either, and you would never know why or how long he had resisted this tell tale noise before he’d finally given in. Comfort having lulled him from his constant vigilance of Maul, eyes snapping open and alert at every new sound out of Maul’s mouth. Sounds that had seemed at first to Savage like Feral’s childish fretting or his own moans of protest after a hard night’s drinking to forget a visit from the Nightsisters. Then silence, the deep, even rhythm of his breath… and then like a blessing, like a memory from better times, his brother’s surprising content purring.

He had let himself be blinded by this. By this unexpected recovery of joy, of rightness… the comfort of his brother’s body so close at hand, the long-sought rumble of his dreamless sleep. He could’ve almost forgiven you for the weeks of anxious caution, for the fear… just because in your arms Maul sounded like a Nightbrother, a boy… or at least as far removed from whatever thing the Sith had tried to turn him into. It had been a rude awakening to catch the scent of your arousal in the air, to find you as dangerous and unpredictable as he had first thought you. Savage had snapped awake and watched you closely, waited, he didn’t know what for because you were no proper witch, but waited anyway, ready to fight for Maul, ready to make the Mother’s magic good for something, ready for anything but your strange refusal to act.

When you did move, it wasn’t towards his brother but away from him. You slipped a hand in between your bodies and for a stupid, senseless second Savage had thought it must have held a weapon to be wielded against Maul.

It wasn’t a vibroblade… but it was just as dangerous and even more confusing.

Your hand between your legs and it somehow took Savage a second to understand what you were doing in there, what treachery you were so clearly trying to hide.

He’d never heard of a Nightsister pleasuring herself, but there had been plenty of Nightbrothers in the communal huts. Savage had done it himself, a lifetime ago, when he still understood his life and his body. But he would not do it now, distrusted the ichor and the treachery of his kinslaying hands and it disturbed him how familiar, how nauseatingly enticing he found the quiet constrained sounds of your pleasure. A furtive, private pleasure you chose to take independent of Maul.

It made no sense, served no purpose, made no children, did not even bind his brother closer to you. All it did was flood the bed with warmth, with the musky, overpowering scent of your arousal, made Savage painfully aware of your human body, so like a Nightsister’s and yet so horribly alien at the same time.

Because you don’t yank either of them out of sleep with an order. You don’t demand combat and blood and horror. You choke down your thin little sounds, muffle your sudden desperate sob against the covers and make Savage’s skin break into goosebumps. There are no tears, no held back moans, when the Night people come together, there are no wet sounds of fingers reaching for solitary, desperate pleasure and Savage doesn’t understand why such a sounds should make his palms tingle or ichor seethe in his veins.

Savage doesn’t understand you at all, but Maul does.

“That,” he hears his brother hiss, terrifyingly awake, anger like molten lava “belongs to me.”

There’s the quick slap of Maul’s gloved hand snatching your own hands out of the way and you make another strange, otherworldly sound. Pained and high-pitched like a scream, but further back in your throat, like a wounded animal, a sound that Savage cannot fathom but which makes Maul growl and move over you.

“Please,” you beg and something in Savage’s stomach clenches because Nightsisters do not beg and Nightbrothers who beg never find themselves in a warm bed, heady with the stench of a woman’s wetness. But that please seems to do something to Maul, makes him yank your hands out of the way and above your head, your legs closing around Maul’s owns and Savage should be afraid, should be ready to flee or fight or kill, except Maul is still deeply, powerfully purring, like a boy with a full belly after a good hunt, like a young Nightbrother pumped full of spring joy, discovering the frenzied hungers of his own body, like a blessing and curse.

“You did it all wrong,” Maul whispers against your ear and Savage does not know how Maul thinks he can do this right because he knows nothing of this, of his own zabrak body drunk on your pheromones, of the danger of holding you down and holding you still and of how strange it is for you to still be begging please, please, please. Maul knows nothing but neither does Savage because he can hear your mewling, your horrible, terrible (wonderful) cry of pleasure and the squelching clench of your sex as Maul slips a still gloved finger inside you and makes you writhe and makes you sweat and makes you do things that have Savage panting for breath and desperately fighting an arousal he had almost thought gone from his life.

And Maul’s fingers are going in and out of you and Savage can hear it, like and unlike sex, deliciously suggestive of it but no treacherous velvet softness around his own member to distract him, no witch to protect his brother from, just your pitiful human body at Maul’s mercy and he can perhaps, for once, understand Maul’s obsession with power, with chains. Because if he could have you like this always, subdued and compliant, reeking of sex, of happiness, perhaps he would understand why his brother says that peace is a lie. Because this, Maul’s ragged breathing, your warm legs brushing Savage’s body whenever his brother pushes inside you too roughly, his own stubborn erection a dull and distant pleasure… This is better than peace.

Maul bites and you cry out in pain and joy. The blood he draws smells to Savage of Dathomir, except it’s not supposed to be yours and you’re no supposed buck under Maul, to beg for more, to make Savage want to flee, want to stay, want to bite down on something (you). He does not know what you’re supposed to do but Maul’s body does. And Savage can almost taste it when Maul slides between your legs. He knows the instinct, the insatiable hunger.

Because Maul is relentless, unskilled and determined and when you protest he snarls at you and makes you melt back into the bed. When your hips buck up his hands grind them back down and he is strong and impossible to guide and you’re at his mercy. And it’s both too much and not enough, each hot swipe of his tongue, each ravenous sound of ecstasy from deep in the back of his throat, reverberating against your legs and your sex and all of it is hot and alive under him.

Savage can feel it in the Force, ravenously, darkly pulsing between them. Feed, rend, take, breed. Every Nightbrother’s prayer, singing through Savage’s veins, through his groin and the unbearable hardness of his member. Because he wants that taste too, not yours, but the terrible taste of Maul’s sheer joy in you, in your thighs clamping against his horns, shredding the tender skin, wanting him so much, so much closer that blood is a price worth paying. The torrent of desire and lust and sheer want, that Maul can’t even stop. His tongue inside you, his teeth grazing you and his voice, whenever he deigns to stop for a breath, no longer velvety, but raw and impossibly deep panting yes, yes, yes.

And Savage can almost smell you climaxing, choking back his brother’s name and Maul’s making a noise like a wounded animal and lapping at the blood smearing your thighs too quick and too sudden. You’re still coming and you don’t want to stop and it’s that thoughtless desire that gives you the audacity to grab Maul’s hand and place it back on your sex if he intends to continue licking greedily at the stinging mess of your thighs.

You are too far gone to notice how immediately he obeys. Savage is too focused on keeping Dathomir’s echo from intruding. But Maul… Maul rips the glove from his hand with his teeth and thrusts his fingers inside you again, quick and efficient like he is Sidious’s weapon all over again, capable, perfect, powerful. Two, three fingers inside you and his thumb on your clitoris, because he’d prepared this time, sought the knowledge of your undoing, guides it via the flood of your scent and movements and screams. You’re screaming his name and he smiles, madly, a grimace with too many teeth.

Maul feels deliriously present, because he wants and he wants and wants and feels like he’s disappearing in desire like his master had said he would, if he focused his rage enough. But this is different. Blood and the addictive potency of your wetness, better than anger, than food, than comfort. Better than anything he’s ever tasted. A thing he’s making you do, with his hands and his mouth and his skill and he can’t wait to make you do it again and again, until you have no breath to say his name anymore, until you can’t scream it and remind him he exists.

Because that’s what you’re doing now, still panting Maul, Maul, rhythmically, in time with his fingers inside you, the whole heel of his hand incessantly, cruelly rubbing the whole of your sex, still wet, still painfully sensitive, still coming for him and only him.

“Lord Maul,” he corrects you in a growl you feel reverberate to your very bones and smiles wider, wilder when you echo him. Can’t help but dive back into you, this time catching your mouth with his own, wanting the taste of your screams. He’s fucking his hand into you so hard, he can almost feel it in a member he no longer has. Hates the muted quality of his lust, his passion, as much as he feels comforted by it. He has control, but at what price? It is not worthy of a Sith, this fear of his own hunger and he finds himself furiously taking it out on the already abused skin of your neck, biting you again, getting another heavenly mouthful of your blood.

But this time you do cry out in pain, tense up beneath him and his reaction is instinctive and immediate. First to subdue you, and then to peer into your face, anxious for a second and then annoyed at his show of weakness. It’s like the air’s been punched out of him, the moment he lays eyes on you: smeared with blood and yet still panting and reaching for him. You nudge something deep inside him, the memory of all the dead things he’d desired and had to forgo. Kilindi in her pool of blood. Eldra. Sidious’s women… and it’s nauseating how much it makes him want you. Agony, the sith masters of old had said, would free him. He does not know it now, face hiding in the crook of your neck, he does not know what he would do with freedom.

Savage is on you so fast it’s dizzying, ready to rip his brother from your arms, would have in fact ripped those arms off your body if only you hadn’t looked at him. Pleading. Scared. Still covered in blood and none of it Maul’s, for all he’s the one whimpering like a rancor just gored him. You are terrified but you don’t let him go, refuse even to let Savage pry your fingers off his back and he doesn’t know what to do when there’s no wound to tend to, no hurt to soothe, no enemy to kill. Just pain.

When a Nightbrother gets like this, there’s very little to be done, he’d been told. But you don’t know that and Savage has tried very hard to forget. When Savage had found Maul, gibbering in agony in Lotho Minor, he hates that his first thought had been to put him down, put an end to his suffering, to do what he should have done ages ago. But Savage cannot, not then and not now. Savage could not do it to Feral when they had been young and alone and too stupid to be afraid, and he will fight the ichor in his very veins to stop himself from doing it again.

Because Savage is not like Maul… or like you. He does not know how to endure, how to put things back together after they’re broken. There are things Savage will never come back from, will never crawl out of, will never survive. He has failed already, as a Nightbrother in trying to keep one brother from the Sisters and another from you. Failed just by trying and failed in the attempt. He will not survive this, but Maul will. Maul will survive you and Savage will make sure he will. If he has to let you hold Maul, let you soothe him, let you speak softly and constantly to him while he murmurs always remember, always remember, then he will. If he has to endure the stench of your arousal and your fear and your love, then he will. And he will put the bacta on your shredded thighs and help you hold Maul together and try not to hate the sight of your tears and try not to love when you hand him his brother to hold, the three of you together, nestled against each other, making sure Maul survives.

#darth maul x reader #savage opress x reader #darth maul smut #savage opress smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #tw: blood #tw: noncon #no noncon happening here but Savage has some errrrm interesting thots re sex with the womenfolk #he’s still not exactly fucking but he’s getting there I think

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liloinkoink · 5 months

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*runs into inbox clothes burning and disheveled* LAMPLIGHT QUESTIONS??? YOU WANT LAMPLIGHT QUESTIONS??? (i think you made that post like four days ago so i'm late but aaaaaaaa)

what do you think is like, The Turning Point in Martyn and Ren's companionship? Or if there's more than one already written, what's your favorite?

Is there a scene that you've really been excited to write for lamplight/one that you've written but haven't shown The Public yet?

In his original party, were there like, designated roles for everyone to play? Like healer/brawler/short-range/scholar etc? If so, what role do you think Martyn specialized in? And everyone else? Is there anything you would say lamplight Martyn is good at--- like a skill or something? Also, how long had the group been together before that incident at Dogwarts?

From what I can remember, Ren and Scar are the only Gods we've seen so far--- do you have an idea of any other familiar faces that are also Gods?

Do you have any other world-building details you wanna talk about? Any Martyn or Ren thoughts that you've been wanting to talk about?

Sorry if this is too many questions, you don't have to answer all of them! Give as vague answers as you please--- honestly, anything you say about the lamplight world i Will Chew Up Like Dog Toy, so put whatever you want!

Regardless, thank you for your writing and all your efforts! I hope you have a nice day ^_^

okay this is a massive ask with so many questions in it, so im gonna repeat/bold each question and deal w em one by one

i will put this under a cut bc it is So Long. below this cut is SO MUCH lamplight worldbuilding, like, So Much, so i hope you enjoy that

what do you think is like, The Turning Point in Martyn and Ren's companionship? Or if there's more than one already written, what's your favorite?

turning point... i guess it depends how you define a turning point? any point of development in their relationship? there's been a few--heliography, with Martyn deciding to swear a real oath to Ren (if still one he can back out of); sleeping hound, w Martyn realizing Ren wouldnt ever burn him; worship the ashes, love wins. there's another big one for Martyn planned that i havent written yet, and one, maybe two or three for Ren.

my favorite, tho, hmm... i think sleeping hound.

Is there a scene that you've really been excited to write for lamplight/one that you've written but haven't shown The Public yet?

i planned the scene for how Ren gets his body back literally day one of the damn fic and i still havent written it a year later i want to SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTAND

literally this one fuckign scene is part of the reason i STARTED WRITING THE DAMN FIC. crying

for the latter half, i posted this!

In his original party, were there like, designated roles for everyone to play? Like healer/brawler/short-range/scholar etc? If so, what role do you think Martyn specialized in? And everyone else?

i get so many questions abt martyns og party you think after a year i would have answers to them but my answer is unfortunately always that i am a treebark writer making a treebark au and it isnt relevant to ren and martyn doing ren and martyn things so i didnt really bother

that said! i dont think they necessarily had roles? they all strike me as pretty mid-level adventurers. theyre not chosen ones on holy quests. none of them are going to have songs sung about them for decades to come. they can hold their own, but they arent saving the world. theyre like,,, fantasy backpacking. doing some minor jobs sometimes. all of em are skilled enough w their weapons/magic but none of em are like, The Fighter or The Mage.

all of them are swordsmen tho bc i think swords are cool. i think Jimmy is better at it than you think he is, but not as good as he says. he will occasionally surprise you by doing something really cool and then when he turns around to brag about it he eats shit. jimmys magic really only affects the area immediately around himself

i asked local to weigh in on bigb bc thats who im least confident on and he suggested bigb using a fighting style that heavily relies on a shield? like sword in one hand shield in the other. i think thats very sick. also, bigbs magic only affects his own body

i can see Grian having some kinda little explosives he uses to fight, tho he clearly doesnt have them anymore (and doesnt need em--bro has talons these days). he used to be immune to magic, but bc of the watchers, he now has a magical core and can be cast on, which is new to him

their group didnt have a leader, either, and all decisions were just made as a group. if asked, both Martyn and Jimmy would say they were the leader (tho neither would boast this anymore, due to believing that would imply having lead Grian to his death). Grian used to handle their money (and hes annoyed about having lost it)

Is there anything you would say lamplight Martyn is good at--- like a skill or something?

he's a musician! it's come up a few times, but he's skilled in a few instruments and has a nice singing voice. hes played a lute on page, i believe, but i think he could also use a harmonica. dont worry abt whether or not those have been invented yet i dont care i just think he deserves one. probs knows a fair amount of songs thatre good in taverns and some dances that accompany them. if he ever got tired of adventuring, he could probs make a fair amount playing at bars (he'd probs do it to fundraise for himself if he didnt have to worry abt ren's lantern)

he's also a pretty decent cook. at least, Ren really likes his cooking, when he has a body again, tho Ren hasnt eaten anything in 20 years

he's generally pretty strong/fit w good stamina to walk all day long. when Ren has a body again, Martyn will be strong enough to lift him, even tho Ren is not much shorter/smaller than him. Ren finds this incredibly impressive. Ren finds everything Martyn does incredibly impressive

of course, there's also being a deadzone, making him completely immune to magic (within reason--if someone casts fireball at him hes still going to burn). charms and curses dont work on him at all, which is very helpful as an adventurer

Also, how long had the group been together before that incident at Dogwarts?

jimmy, grian, and martyn were childhood friends, all lived in the same town/neighborhood (Evo) and grew up together. bigb moved to their hometown/neighborhood when Dogwarts fell, he was about 10? theyve been friends ever since. so theyve known each other about 20 years minimum

(note on ages: i dont know how old any of these people actually are so in lamplight theyre all like early 30s. pretty sure grian and jimmy are like late 20s? and bigb and martyn are somewhere in their 30s? so i set em all as early 30s)

barely related, it does make me laugh Dogwarts has Watchers and Evo doesnt

From what I can remember, Ren and Scar are the only Gods we've seen so far--- do you have an idea of any other familiar faces that are also Gods?

the answer to this is uh. kind of long and a little bit hysterical. so ill first direct you to this paragraph from moonlight ch2

i did actually have uh... a few things in mind for this? but not uh. not reasonable ones

so. quite a few of them. ill be honest. to fill the paragraph and make it long and expansive i recounted the pantheon from a zolu fic abt the entire strawhat pirate crew as gods which i wrote w my friend Sam when i was like 16. i do not think the strawhat pantheon is canon to lamplight but recalling the domains i used for the strawhats was how i made a lot of the list, so, uh, take that as you will

for other characters... the god of nothing is Scar. the god of death is Kristin. the god of blood is... not Technoblade, actually? tho ive thought abt him in Lamplight. i like to think he may actually also be a paladin, he travels around w Phil. gods of places references Ren but also is a shoutout specifically to my friend Zeph who loves place gods, so i just wanted the world to have lots of them

the god of survival is actually Martyn! in leaflight, the roleswap, Martyn has long since abandoned his post as a god, but he was born the god of survival

.....oh and uh. well. the god of decay is... me! my mcrp character on another server is the god of decay. the secret truth about this specific paragraph is i wrote the entire thing so i could make a cameo in lamplight

Do you have any other world-building details you wanna talk about?

magic system... have i told you guys about magical cores? i had some of this already in mind but typing it out i made up a lot more. it is also approaching 1am so if this doesnt make any sense that's why

every person in lamplight has a magical core. it's sort of like a,,, spiritual organ? a little core of magic in them which takes magic from the air and makes it usable for an individual. cores vary in size/reserve, which is how much magic a person can do at max / how much magic their core can store. they also vary in type/strength of magic, which i guess is what a person's core processes ambient magic as

people can usually only use one kind of magic, which corresponds to what their core is. i think the type of magic is mostly determined by what/who it works on. it might work on just you and the space around you, it might work on just objects, it might work on animals, it might work on other people. magic which works on just yourself is most common and weakest, and the majority of people have that

deadzones dont have a magical core At All. theres nothing in there. straight up missing an organ. most deadzones are born this way, but i can see it be possible to become one if you Really, REALLY exhaust your core, tho that's probs rare

casting a spell depends entirely on belief. if you believe it should work, and are confident in your spell, it should do what you want, esp if it's in your power. you can... probs push your limits a bit if youre super confident, and doing this enough with enough confidence is basically the closest thing to training one's magic a person can get?

related, i can see bc of this kids having magic thats just a little stronger than adults bc of this, which is cute. kids probs also have smaller cores w smaller reserves, tho im not sure how much a core grows as a person ages

inanimate objects dont have magical cores or innate magic. i said earlier i think the lamplight world has a lot of ambient magic just floating about (which is how cores refill back to baseline once you use magic), but it doesnt stick to things unless you make it. to cast on an object, you have to use magic from your own core to adhere it to the thing youre casting on (which is why spells casted on objects dont USUALLY last that long--as said in moonlight, most only last a short while, and ren's enchants only lasted for months is just bc he was insanely powerful). you basically give items a little piece of your core with an instruction of how to use it

(jimmy's magic i think affects himself and ambient magic around him, while bigb draws entirely on his own core and can only affect himself)

i dont know if animals have magical cores ive never thought about it until this exact second. probably, but not ones most creatures know how to use? magic is belief based, they might use magic a little bit on accident? i dont know. some monsters absolutely have magical cores they know how to use

this is probs how zombies work. i think it's either a curse cast by one very powerful god/magic user a long time ago, or that people need to be properly buried or else weird things happen to their lingering magical core. or smth. i havent entirely decided

to cast on a person, you need to get your magic to stick to, cover up, or drown out Their magical core, depending on the spell. spells cast on other people dont last very long bc magical cores dont tend to like things intruding on them. this is why deadzones cant be cast on--no core, nothing for other magic to stick to

it's a little bit like a sliding scale? "weakest" magic is yourself, it's easiest to cast on yourself bc your will is your own and should generally line up w your magic, so long as you believe in what you're doing. then ambient magic, bc it's just chillin, you just need a little extra strength to grab it. then objects, tho you have to share a little will to cast on objects. then animals, they usually have smaller magical cores than ppl, friendly animals are a bit easier to bend to your will, tho some animals are harder to cast on then others, esp hostile animals or monsters. then other people. people have their own will and their own cores that are most difficult to bend/influence. so magic that works on other ppl is the "strongest"

being able to cast on a later step on the scale, like animals or ppl, doesnt mean you can do all the steps before it, tho. Scar i think can ONLY cast on living things, his magic sorta specializes in sticking to other ppls' cores. i would imagine all magic users can cast on themselves at least a little tho

to cast on a deadzone, you have to first give them a magical core, which is incredibly difficult, unstable, and dangerous. it requires a lot of power and a lot of people, which is why it did such weird things to Grian

divine magical cores are on another level entirely compared to mortals, and tho ren's was impressive as a human, it got infinitely more powerful when he became a god. he's basically a well of magic all on his own, w no limit on the size/reserve of his core

ren is overflowing w magic, but it works only on inanimate objects (things that dont have wills of their own to fight his) and himself (obviously he doesnt have to fight his own will). if Martyn werent a deadzone, he could probablt have cast on late-series Martyn, as martyn's will as ren's paladin would probs line up w ren's own

none of these rules are super hard and set in stone. lamplight magic is vibe based first and foremost

uhhh. i dont know if this all made sense? if it doesnt feel free to ask follow up questions

oh, and before anyone asks:

jimmy has a slightly more powerful core than bigb bc he can cast on ambient magic and bigb cant. bigb's core is probs bigger than jimmy's tho, so he can use more magic / use magic for longer than jimmy can

Any Martyn or Ren thoughts that you've been wanting to talk about?

heres a fun fact: gods are supposed to give their paladins blessings. Ren is no exception to this, but bc Martyn has no magical core, he cant receive them. if he did, ren's blessings would be all about protection. it'd basically be like casting armor enchants like protection and unbreaking directly on martyn's body? he'd less likely to be directly injured and sturdier in general. he would also be completely resistant to any fire, not just ren.

(the thing i said earlier is sort of why blessings work for Ren despite the fact hes technically mortal, but for other gods blessings are automatic so long as the paladin's oath stands)

Ren is aware of the fact he should be able to bless Martyn and cant and is sort of upset about it, but he blessed his armor, so he thinks thatll have to be enough

#oink asks #anonymous #lamplight au #thank you so much for all of these questions please feel free to return if you have more

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