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jangofctts · 4 years ago

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Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are.

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that?

Not much, as it so happens.

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding—

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail.

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back��should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought.

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in.

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics.

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…

So you ran.

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.

Maker—how did everything become so tangled?

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out.

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift.

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground.

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and—

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times.

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving.

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz.

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now.

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.

“No more bounties.”

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.

“No more hunts alone—“

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.”

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire.

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails.

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble.

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night.

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over.

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits.

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you.

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow.

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.”

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous.

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh.

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?”

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers.

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling.

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal.

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you.

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now.

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"

He continues without missing a beat.

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck. “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity.

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly.

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.

Maker you hate this fucking planet—

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up.

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar—

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.

You were right.

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand.

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants.

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought.

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath.

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward.

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance.

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips.

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.”

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up.

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you.

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips.

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.”

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug.

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.

Another time for that game maybe.

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you.

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.”

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works.

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.”

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind.

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things.

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim.

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss.

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue.

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?”

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent.

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat.

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches.

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been.

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst @blue-writes-a03 @max--phillips

#din is a certified bottom #ANYWAY welcome to pound town #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader x paz vizla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #fanfiction #sw fanfiction #my writing #are you in or out?

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changminurheart · 3 years ago

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Have you thought about your moots as tbz?

hi anon! hope ure doing okay !!

sangyeon - @mavericsohn - elle

elle is always looking after me omg, always !!! they’re always checking in on me in my inbox and reminding me to take care. their energy is just unmatched, thinking of comfort? soft? homey? that’s not even a word but talking and being with giselle just feels so damn easy like i dont need to worry about what to say or to do they literally are the entire vibe and idk who could better fit sangyeon than giselle. sangyeon is giselle. giselle is sangyeon. they are one.

jacob - @tbzhub - codi

codi is the sweetest!! honestly the embodiment of jacob like the angel his is too. codi has always been the nicest to me i’m seriously in awe. codi’s taught me kindness and the way codi makes me feel makes me is the happiest and i wish i could make someone feel that indescribable warm bubbly way too and i just know codi gives the bestest hugs ever. codi and cobie scREAMING IT SOUNDS SO PERFECT but theyre literally the softest humans ever and i will protect the both of them with my entire being.

younghoon - @0429a - sam

sam isn’t active rn but she is quite possibly the greatest person to ever exist. she’s literally light- sunlight so sparkly and glittery and i need her for that dopamine. she’s just like younghoon- the vibes are immaculate. they’re both funny as hell even if its unintentional or corny (thinking of that time sam went along with my cat jokes and i smiled so damn big) she’s beautiful inside and out just like younghoon is and seeing her on the dash makes me wanna cry bc shes so kind and sincere and like younghoon she just can’t be real. she can’t.

hyunjae - @cloudykyu - mani

oh god. where do i start. the clowns. KIDDING I LOVE YOU BOTH. you’re both so silly omg, the vibes are literally everywhere. you and hyunjae would literally be a mess together in the best way, you’re the same person its so scary?? thinking of the loudness, the jokes, the passive aggressiveness and the childish energy that you both give off ive said this before but mani does give me big sister energy. shes always hyping me up and is so ready to fight at any given point (think hyunjae and eric) i love her i’m in love with her and she’s my best friend- also too much prettiness that i cry. you all should see her private story on snap oh my god she’s chaotic but chill, the most down to earth and sincerest person i’ve ever had the best fortune to know. she’s unapologetically her own person and i respect that the most about her. her passion her sticking to what she believes is right and i admire that so hard, love u girl <3

juyeon - @odxrilove - dori

dori dori dori, we’ve interacted a few times before i’m posting this and it gave me shy awkward vibes bc i just wanted to be your friend but didnt know how bc im super awkward too omg could cry but youre so sweet !!! youve always been so damn kind to me you make me want to sob rivers. the effort and time you put into everything you do, you work so damn hard that i’m so proud of you n cheering you on!! just like juyeon omg he’s always so gentle and careful and can be clumsy and you really give off that energy, you and ju both underestimate yourselves and i’m here to let you know how amazing you both are <3

kevin - @armysantiny - minmin

you’re like my twin i’m not even kidding from the moment we had the same name and the same bias list and then living in the uk too? had me screaming because youre the coolest person i know, you’re so down to earth so intuitive and openminded. kevin can be intimidating too when you first see him but once you hear him speak you just never want him to stop and thats how it feels with you love, i just want to listen to you all the time and i will, i’ll always be here to listen to you min so thank you for being brave and opening up little parts of yourself that i love entirely <3

chanhee - @choiberry - honey

OH MY GOD EVERYTHING ANOUT YOU IS JUST SO PRETTY ACTUALLY SCREAMING RN youre so funny !! and honestly being on your blog feels like a museum everything is so aesthetic and im like that kid with grabby hands touching everything wanting to like everything, just like chanhee you’re both like premium. clearly too good to be true i feel undeserving. you’re so kind to me too and i’m always in awe because i did see ur reblog of project sugar daddy btw and i havent responded to it yet just bc i sit there and stare all giggly at it instead bc me?? you?? youre friends with me?? seriously i feel like youve been eating glitter and liquid gold or smth that you and chanhee are just like beautiful. absolutely stunning. im so :o

changmin - @stealanity - matty

MY FAVOURITE PERSON ALIVE AS MY BIAS, i’m actually matty biased idk if you can tell i try and keep it lowkey 😮‍💨 ur so talented babe and i will always scream on and on about this !! changmin is honestly the love of my life that every single part of him even what he thinks of as his flaws are my favourite things and its the same, the love i have for changmin is the same love i have for you. the excitement i get coming on tumblr bc i know youre here, the way i wanna cry when we talk bc it feels again like this doesnt feel real and i dont deserve this, youre my favourite writer and you inspire me so damn much with anything you write and its so crazy bc i feel like changmins oresence is just so soothing and he has no idea who i am but somehow he just knows how im feeling and how it is and thats so you, i just feel like you already know whats going on before i do and youre there, youre always there for me. youre my comfort girl matty and fuck im crying writing this because you and changmin both mean the absolute world to me. you’re both so warm and i have never felt so safe with the both of you.

haknyeon - @moonieric - ducky

ducky is honestly so fucking cute. she sends me snaps of her day and apologies babe if i see them and dont answer sometimes i genuinely do just forget but it just warms my heart to see you having an absolute blast and surrounded by all your friends the energy really is there and its beautiful. youre just like hak in the way that seeing you happy makes me the happiest, you and hak are just both chill and content with what you have and are so damn creative like the art snaps you show me? and your presentations? im so incredibly proud of you and hak and the ability you have like your energy just screams individuality like you are your own person the way hak can differentiate himself from the group too. i just love you both so much omg and so so proud of you both !!

sunwoo - @luvrbin - jel

jel. hi heh im so shy rn omg im just going to say this straight out okay YOURE SO COOL QUITE POSSIBLY THE COOLEST PERSON I KNOW LIKE HELLO YOUR WRITING YOUR MEMES YOUR ENERGY YOUR VIBES i know weve only interacted a few times but that means youre my best friend now okay? OKAY! but yeah, youre like the duplicate of sunwoo and its so scary because youre everywhere?? i always see you on my dash and i stare longingly thinking i hope jel is happy and life is treating jel well (rhymes ha) and then i panic and stop bc like sunwoo is always staring and i feel like youre staring at me rn and im getting shy see??? this is what im trying to say sunwoo is so good at flustering everyone and i JUST FEEL LIKE YOURE TOO GOOD FOR ME TO EVEN BREATHE THE SAME AIR AS YOU IM GETTING FLUSTERED

eric - @hvae - vae

i honestly dont even know where to start. eric is special. vae is special. eric is pretty as hell. vae is pretty as hell. eric is so damn talented. vae is so damn talented. the e in eric stands for extrovert and the e in vae stands for exceptional bc somehow shes just good at everything (mf was born perfect omg) but heres the thing!! vae doesnt need to be excessively loud for her presence to speak volumes, i love speaking to vae shes one of my favourite people and one of my first friends (passed the word moots at this point) it felt like i knew her from the beginning even though i didnt? it just feels like weve always known each other she just gets me omg and literally talking to her ive never felt so safe and welcomed and relaxed in my entire life and thats just the impact of her and eric’s presence like i wanna show them both my good side only but its like they already know every version of you and appreciate you more and vae’s so sensitive and intuitive to everything around her in the sense like she understands and so does eric you know like he knows when somethings up. we dont even have to talk for ages like weve been two months and it still felt the same when we texted again. she’s the constant in my life the way eric is in deobi’s life and the way hes always thinking and looking after deobis yeah well thats me to vae, theres no one i wanna talk to more and love more and learn more about in my entire life than her <33

this was so fucking long but ty anon for asking ! i’m socially awkward and have more moots but we havent spoken in a long ass while bc i suck at being active so the above are moots that im the closest too !! love u friends !! <333

#minnie’s mail ; answered <3 #[ anons ]#mavericsohn ; gorgeous giselle #tbzhub ; codi the cutest #0429a ; ethereal sam thats so pretty and gotgeous inside and out and deserves the whole entire world for just being her gorgeous self bc ahh #cloudykyu ; mani mani mine hehehe #odxrilove ; dori my fave <3 #armysantiny ; minmin #choiberry : sweet like honeybee <33 #stealanity ; matty my beloved ahh #moonieric ; ducky mwah #luvrbin ; the new love of my life jel #hvae ; vaebae

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itsthenovelteafactor · 3 years ago

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Fall of the House of Hargreeves

So I mentioned a while back in my Superhero Gothic meta that there were a number of parallels between the season one finale of The Umbrella Academy and the Edgar Allen Poe short story The Fall of the House of Usher and that I could probably write a whole meta on that if anyone was interested. Shout out and love to the anon who requested that I do that!

It’s been a minute since I’ve done one of these long form metas, but I am very excited to get back to writing about two of my favorite things: gothic literature and chaotic superheroes.

Part I: The Fall of the House of Usher

The Fall of the House of Usher (which I’ll call House of Usher for convenience for the rest of this meta) is a short story by Edgar Allen Poe first published in 1939. It is considered a classic gothic short story, and deals with themes of family, madness, inheritance, and isolation.

Since it’s in the public domain, I’ll go ahead and link a pdf to the story here. If you aren’t interested in reading, though, or just want a refresher, the story follows an unnamed narrator going to visit his ill friend, a man named Roderick Usher in his isolated (and very spooky) family estate. Upon arrival, he discovers that Roderick’s sister, Madeline Usher, is also ill, and has a tendency to fall into dreamlike trances.

Over the course of the visit, Roderick confesses to the narrator that not only does he believe the house is alive, but that it is connected to the fate of the family which, at this point, only includes Roderick and Madeline. He later comes and tells the narrator that Madeline has died, and enlists his help in order to bury her in the family tomb beneath the house. They do so, but for the next couple of days Roderick is suspiciously...on edge.

Then, one dark and stormy night, Roderick shows up in the narrator’s room incredibly worked up, and throws open the window, and starts low-key (read: high-key) having a breakdown. The narrator is unsure as to why until he hears ripping and tearing sounds coming from somewhere in the house. These ripping and tearing sounds are revealed to be Madeline whom Roderick and the narrator buried alive whose appearance scares Roderick to death, right before she collapses, also dead from the strain of tearing through the foundations of the house.

The narrator decides this would probably be a good time to leave and is very much right about that because as soon as he leaves, the house (which was already in pretty bad shape) splits in two and collapses into the lake surrounding it. The end.

Part II: Umbrella Academy as Gothic

So, there are probably a couple similarities between House of Usher and The Umbrella Academy season one that stand out right off the bat, but I’d like to start by taking a step back to talk about thematic parallels between the two works. If you’d like to read a very long winded explanation of why I consider The Umbrella Academy to be a modern gothic tale, I have a really long meta about it.

If not, here’s a quick overview:

Gothic does not have a clearly defined set of requirements as a genre, but its purpose is to explore the contradictions and the failing edifices of convention in a way that is dramatic and often fantastic.

Gothic fiction plays with reality, but usually in a way that is representative of the characters and story.

It often situates itself during times of great change, as there is something haunting about the irreversible passage of time, particularly for those that struggle to acknowledge it and hide behind conventions that have grown increasingly irrelevant.

Poe is considered one of the classic authors of gothic fiction (though the genre significantly predates him), and is decidedly one of the best well-known examples of it.

The Umbrella Academy is a family drama about former child superheroes dealing with their trauma while trying to prevent an apocalypse that their every move seems to set further in motion. It explores the messy and complicated relationships between siblings who have been abused and pit against each other for years. And yeah, it’s fun with great music and talking gorillas and dance sequences, but the premise is kind of hard for me to read as anything other than gothic.

Part III: Parallels

Like House of Usher, the first season of Umbrella Academy takes place in a massive, largely empty mansion where siblings gather with disastrous consequences. Both works explore a family that is past their prime and disconnected from the present. They also both explore the psychological toll of isolation, the consequences of tyrannical family rules, and why it is a really bad idea to lock your unstable sister in a basement and just leave her there.

Let’s start with some thematics parallels. Everyone in House of Usher is extremely isolated, and the absence of anything resembling the modern world amongst the house full of relics is part of the horror. All of the siblings in Umbrella Academy are defined by their isolation as well, physically (Luther, Five, and Ben), socially (Vanya, Diego, Klaus, and Allison), and emotionally (legit all of them). It is this isolation that drives the conflict of the story, feeding into every characters’ choices.

In both House of Usher and Umbrella Academy, the main characters are trapped in this isolated state as a direct result of their familial legacy. In House of Usher, the titular house is a character itself, a manifestations of the obligations Madeline and Roderick hold as members of an aristocratic family that is so far divorced from wealth and status that it keeps them from ever fully moving on and rejoining the real world. In Umbrella Academy, the characters are similarly trapped by their familial legacy, this time in the form of the specter of their abusive father, and the roles he created for them. Like the Usher siblings, the Hargreeves have no way of maintaining the roles their family left out for them – they were never given the tools to function in the real world and it cripples them – but are trapped in them regardless.

Part IV: The Woman* in White

*As of the time I am writing this, nothing has been said regarding Vanya’s gender identity being written to match Elliot Page’s. I am using she/her pronouns for Vanya, as that is what has been used for the character thus far.

Aside from thematic parallels, however, the most direct connection between the short story and series, and in fact the reason I was inspired to write this meta in the first place is the way both of the stories end: with a sister trapped beneath the house clawing her way out to face her brother(s and sister) and creating a disruption of the family legacy so great that the entire estate crumbles.

Madeline Usher is described at this point as wearing a white dress, strained with the injuries she sustained from physically breaking herself out of the basement tomb her brother buried her alive in. Vanya, of course, becomes at this moment the White Violin, and though she has not yet had the epic violin-music-so-powerful-it-changes-the-color-of-her-clothes scene, the principal still stands.

As characters, there are also a couple of noteworthy parallels between Vanya and Madeline. The narrator at one point describes “the illness of the lady Madeline had lone been beyond the help of her doctors. She seemed to care about nothing” (Poe, 27). The reader never knows what illness precisely is the cause of Madeline’s apparent madness, but we see the effects. It dulls her emotional responses to situations and leaves her withdrawn and powerless. Similarly, we learn over the course of the first season of The Umbrella Academy that the medication Reginald Hargreeves prescribed Vanya for her anxiety is actually a power suppressor for her abilities that has much the same effect – because they are strengthened by extreme emotion, the drugs numb Vanya’s emotional responses and deprive her of the ability to access her powers.

Additionally, the final scene of the story story shows Madeline escaping her tomb during a great storm and going to face her brother who put her there, the storm itself being a metaphor for her anguish that tears the house apart. Vanya’s connection to the destruction of the house is a bit more literal, but it is similarly a manifestation of her anguish and trauma. She sees flashbacks of her siblings being distant and rude to her in their childhoods and the anger she feels rips the foundation apart.

It is not entirely clear in the short story why Roderick buries Madeline alive – there are a lot of theories: he genuinely believed she was dead, he wanted her out of the picture, he himself was succumbing to the madness of the house, etc – but the guilt he feels for doing so manifests as him hearing her scraping her way out for several days preceding her escape. The justification for Vanya’s imprisonment is more clear in text, but the series of flashbacks make it clear that it is not just the imprisonment that has driven her over the edge. It it guilt for her sister, anger at her abusive upbringing that is much more easily directed at her siblings than her father, the newfound emotions experienced by being off her medication for the first time since childhood, Leonard’s manipulations, etc.

In both cases, amidst a spiral of emotions and experiences folding in on themselves, Vanya and Madeline experience a single, cold moment of clarity that drives them to escape, and it is that moment of clarity that breaks the shadow of the family legacy. They observe the situation as it stands and realize that it is completely unacceptable, and it is the realization that leads everything to crumble. Because gothic literature is focused on the complexities of maintaining that which is out of date, the realization that things must change can break the spell.

Part V: Conclusions

As per usual, I have no great theories on why this is or what it means. One of the reasons I love gothic literature is that it is rife with meaning that can be more easily felt than deciphered. I welcome any and all interpretations, theories, (politely worded) disagreements, and comments.

Thanks for taking the time to read; I have a lot of fun doing these. Enjoy spooky season, y’all. 💛

#The Umbrella Academy meta #TUA meta #The Umbrella Academy #TUA #The Fall of the House of Usher #House of Usher #Edgar Allen Poe #back here with the long metas on gothic literature and superhero tv #Vanya Hargreeves #Madeline Usher #happy spooky season y'all

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aerialflight · 4 years ago

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Fic Recs (cause it's always nice to give a shout out and get people into things I'm into rn)

[The Magnus Archives] (I recently finished the podcast and I fell into a hole for a while so here you go)

Sing a Song of Sixpence by Kaiel

Ship: Jon/Martin

In which Jonathan Sims is a Siren, and he fails to notice any new abilities granted to him by the position of Archivist. Or really anything about the Entities at all.

Takes place in season 1 featuring Jonah Magnus’s slow decent into madness

(The new mythology interwoven with tma's worldbuilding is so freaking good and I love how all the characters change and develop because of these changes. Also, f you Elias)

Along Came a Spider by Dribbledscribbles

Ship: implied Jon/Martin

Sasha James is the Archivist, as expected. Martin Blackwood is menaced by Jane Prentiss, as expected. Elias Bouchard weaves his web, as expected.

All goes as it should.

At least until something calling itself Jonathan Sims steps in.

(Web!Jon in this makes me want to weep, it's so freaking good. A pretty long, very excellent oneshot on what could've happened if Jon got taken by the web when he was a kid. And Sasha as the Archivist is ALWAYS so cool, we love her in this house.)

A Break in the Clouds by Ash_Rabbit

“I’m eight.” the kid sniffs as if eight was any different from four, maybe not an unspeakable horror then, just a regular horror. “And I heard that the Magnus Institute deals with-” his little nose scrunches, cute. “-spooky things.”

“Do you have a-” he cracks a grin, and then rethinks it as small hands tighten against their burden.”-spooky thing to deliver?” gods he hopes not, it’s bad enough when adults walk in and lay out all of their baggage, but for a child-

“There’s a spider in this book.” the kid says solemnly, raising his textbook sized parcel. “It ate Evan Pritchard.” a bloody fucking Leitner. Of course an eight year old would find a murder spider book. “This seemed like the best place to bring it.”

(I never thought about what the Original Elias could've been like AND NOW I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT BECAUSE OF THIS FIC. I LOVE HIM, HE'S COMPLEX AND HE CARES AND JON CARES AND THEY BOTH CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER. THIS IS THE CONTENT I WANT, OMG. Also, Jon being even smaller than usual is adorable, so cute. No wonder Elias wants to hug him, a LOT.)

See the Line where the Sky meets the Sea by The_Floating_World

Ship: Jon/Martin, Jon/Oliver Banks

When Jon is a child he looks into the infinite abyss of space. The Vast looks back into him.

(One of my all time fave fics in this fandom, no questions asked. I have reread this three times and am open to doing it again, god. Vast!Jon, such a concept. It's written so beautifully and the relationships Jon develops, so good. ugh. My heart. Please please read.)

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Ship: Jon/Martin

“Come in, Martin,” he says, not looking up from his notes.

“Hi, Jon,” he says, and Jon stops writing at the sound of his voice. “We’re out of the green tea, but we’ve got lemon?”

Jon looks at him. Martin smiles at him in his usual tentative way as he sets the mug of tea down on Jon’s desk. Heat spikes so sharply in his gut that he twitches with it.

“Thank you, Martin,” he says, mouth dry, and he stands up.

“Oh,” he says, sounding almost surprised. He smiles again. “No-- no problem-- um, what are you--”

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

(You have no idea how much I howled through this fic, my god. *buries face in hands* The number of times I wanted to cry from sheer hilarity and horror reading this good lord.)

Things Could Always Be Worse by theOestofOCs

Ship: Jon/Martin, Georgie/Melanie

Sometimes, the most horrifying thing of all is what might have been.

Somewhere, Jon could swear he heard a crowd laughing.

Or: in which Jonathan Sims is forced to swap places with his alternate self—a tall, chivalrous hero extraordinaire, who knows neither fear nor nuance—and is sent to the aggressively straight alternate universe the Magnus Archives was never meant to be.

“Whatever place this is,” Jon announced, “I just want to be sure it knows I hate it.”

(I will say this once, THIS IS THE MOST CURSED THING IVE EVER READ EVER. Like holy hell. I can't believe this thing exists. please read it oh please please please)

[Supernatural]

heard from your mother (she don't recognize you) by Schmuzz

Ship: Dean/Cas, Jessica/Sam

A man named Cas wakes up in 2003 with no memories, but he's able to piece together a few things:

1. Supernatural creatures exist, and most of them will hurt innocent civilians if he doesn't stop them; 2. He has abilities that no human hunter should have, but he knows enough about human hunters to keep that to himself, and finally; 3. He keeps running into another hunter named Dean Winchester, who seems to be about as lonely as he is if he's willing to put up with those former facts long enough to help Cas unravel the mystery of who (or what) he really is.

For his part, Dean's still (not) dealing with Sam's departure to Stanford, and figures distracting himself with a bit of mystery and intrigue is as harmless as it gets, right? Right.

(THE fic I'm most into right now, been following this from the very start and it's AMAZING. Cas has agency and is making friends and S1 Dean is growing out of John's influence and is becoming a Person and the both of them first being friends then more. The slow burn as their relationship develops, SO GOOD. SO SO DAMN GOOD. *screams* Seriously one of the best spn fics I've read in a long, long time.)

anamnesis by cenotaphy

Ships: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Eileen

Chuck is depowered, Jack is the new god, and the world is free. Dean and Sam get into the Impala and chase down the miles on an endless highway, and their story is finally, finally their own to follow. At least, that's what Dean tells himself. But the diners and motels and painted interstate lines are blurring together and the smallest details keep catching at his brain like tiny fishhooks and he can't quite shake the feeling that not everything is exactly as it should be.

* Fix-it/alternate series finale. Canon-compliant through the end of 15.19.

(THIS IS THE FIC THAT GOT ME THROUGH THE FINALE OKAY. WHY COULDN'T THIS HAVE BEEN CANON. It's Disturbing and honestly plot-wise this makes more sense. Why couldn't we have had this. *screams*)

[Avatar: The Last Airbender]

where the stars do not take sides by WitchofEndor

Ship: Sokka/Zuko

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

(The fact one of the tags in this fic is, "Sibling Dynamic: Fucked Up But Wholesome" should give you an idea what this fic is like. Chaotic as HELL and I just love Azula here, she loves Zuko so much in her messed up way and Zuko loves her back in the exact same way lol. It's batshit and I am Here For This.)

[Naruto]

Eclipse by AislingRoisin (JayBird345) for HybrisAnaideia

Ship: Nara Shikaku/OFC

"In life, it's easier to remain stagnant and wallow in your troubles. But life isn't merely about continued existence, nor is it meant to be gone through alone."

(This is a fic that's slept on and I NEED people to read this. A self-insert fic that I find really interesting in its approach and the worldbuilding for the post-third war shinobi world is fantastic. I feel like there's a certain pattern with self-insert fics, not that is a detriment in any way to how much I enjoy them, so this fic feels fresh to me in a way I haven't read in a while. I am waiting eagerly for this to get updated! Please read!)

On Freedom and Other Formalities by iaso

Ship: Kakashi/Genma/OFC

When push comes to shove, Hiwa Inuzuka doesn't go down easy. Reborn into a new, dangerous world? She puts her past life as a spy to work. Thrown into a war? Hiwa does her duty, for Konoha. And when she's forced into an arranged marriage? All there is to do is beat them to the punch and get married first. Thankfully, Genma Shiranui is willing to lend a hand. Literally. SI/OC

(Listen, LISTEN, it's about the slow burn, the longing, the communication (it both has and hasn't and isn't THAT great??), the messy way you fit three very different people together, it's so freaking good! Also, Kakashi is so Chaotic here this is my fave characterization of him, you can't change my mind. And Genma is a Good Boi who is Doing His Best, along with the Self-insert character who I LOVE SO MUCH, SHE'S FANTASTIC FNEIWOPAF. Sped past this fic in the speed of light, I could not stop reading!)(Honestly, read all of the author's fics, they're all really REALLY good!)

Building a Castle by WhisperingDarkness

Without needing anyone to tell her, Sakura knew that talking to someone no-one else could see or hear would make her weird. It would draw the bad kind of attention to her, something people could make fun of her for.

She didn’t like being weird, but she did like the voice. Her inner voice was helpful and it was a part of her that had always been there. The idea of it not being there would have been so much weirder than anything else.

It was during her first year at the Academy that Sakura realised the voice was not in her head at all, but that it came from a cloudy shape floating next to her.

(Basically a short-ish retelling of Hikaru no Go. Only with more Shogi and Nara and Ninja's)

(Sakura can see ghosts (I'm noticing this is a popular trope for her) and it's really cute haha! Her relationship with Tobirama is sweet and I just enjoyed reading this so much.)

[The Magicians]

So Long (And Thanks For All The Books) by IncompleteSentanc (Erava)

Ships: Quentin/Eliot, James/Julia, Quentin/Margo/Eliot

When Quentin is told Julia wasn't admitted to Brakebills, he realizes he has a drastic decision in front of him. If he tells Julia about magic, he'll have his mind wiped as well as hers. But he can't just leave her behind, either. He can't lose his best friend, and he can't let her life a life with her magical potential stolen away from her.

So he makes a third choice.

(Really, and I mean REALLY well-done canon divergent fic, this is the Quentin & Julia friendship fic I have been looking for forever. It explores so much of what could've happened and I just love Quentin here, I really really do. Characterization done so right. I also recommend the author's other works too. Been a follower of them for a long time, they're great.)

[Game of Thrones]

The Road to Victory by writing_as_tracey

Too late in preparing for the Night King and the Long Night, the last stand at Winterfell is close to falling. Bran takes desperate measures to ensure victory, and Jon, Sansa, and Arya pay the price for it in a time unfamiliar to them, on the cusp of another war. [GoT, time-travel fix it]

(I swear, this fic made me laugh so many times, all the Stark are BAMF and fantastic, and Rhaegar gets Wrecked lol. It's crack btw, and the plot goes in directions you'll never guess and it's amazing hahaha!)

[Haikyuu!!] (I am very very late to the fandom but here I am)

Ballare (To Dance) by MidnightSparks

Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, and platonic Kageyama & Kentarou (really love their friendship)

Kageyama’s first love is volleyball. His second, however, is ballet.

In one world, Kageyama Tobio is left behind by his parents. In this world, the existence of soulbonds keeps Kageyama’s parents in Miyagi and leaves Kageyama in the care of his grandma and grandpa.

(In which soulmates exist and that changes everything and nothing at the same time.)

(*buries face in hands* I have fallen for this ship so hard and I can't get out fudge me. I understand now. Their DYNAMICS FIEWONPAF)

Kings of Tomorrow by bokubroya (liarielle)

Ship: Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru

On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.

It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.

Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.

(I am WEAK for soulmate fics between these two, I don't even really like soulmate fics half the times what is WRONG WITH ME-)(Please suffer with me, I'm begging you. Its a good fic, thumbs up.)

[Crossover]

Honey and Magic by JustARatherVerySillyWriter, White_Squirrel for Super Carlin Brothers

Fandoms: Matilda (yeah you read that right), Harry Potter

Everyone knew Matilda was a rather extraordinary child, but even she didn't know she was a witch. Matilda Honey receives her Hogwarts letter in the year of the Triwizard Tournament, and soon, she will leave her unique mark on the magical world.

(Do I even need to explain how amazing it is to have Matilda in the wizarding world? And Matilda is a HUFFLEPUFF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL THIS FIC IS GREAT PLEASE READ!!!)

An Eye for an Eye by DpsMercy

Fandoms: The Magnus Archives, Welcome to Night Vale

In which Jonathan Sims is not from the UK but instead, if you took his origins and turned them sideways twice then flipped them over, he technically would be from the US, the town of Night Vale specifically. Elias can’t do shit about it and gets a headache and slowly creeping madness instead.

(Look, I know probably everyone has read this because if they haven't, what have you been DOING with your lives??? Jon interning at Night Vale is Incredible, nothing phases this man, it's Delightful. I laughed so many times reading this, I'm not even kidding right now. Read or perish.)

The Favour by R_Cookie

Fandoms: Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

Ship: Original Percival Graves/Harry Potter

Percival is ten years old when his grandfather tries to tell him that he's ensured the greatness of the Graves legacy for him, that he ought to be eternally grateful - but the explanation is hijacked by a stranger who manages to intimidate Chester Graves with an ease never seen before.

or: Hadrian (Harry) Potter is the Master of Death, who grants Graves a boon. Nobody could have known that the Deathly Hallows didn't turn you so much into the 'Master of Death' as into the anthropomorphic personification of Death. And so, Death becomes Percival's guardian angel, and Percival does not spit out his cereal.

(Look, I don't know how I stumbled back into the FBAWTFT fandom either, it just happened and I'm grateful for that. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found this amazing fic. Their relationship is slow and strange and I just love how Percival is characterized here. Also, one of the tag promises that it deviates from canon so I am really, really excited for that! XD)

baby that's what i do by natanije

Fandoms: Naruto, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!

"Are you telling me," Hidan exclaims, incredulous, "that you collect money all this time to give to orphans?!"

Kakuzu pauses. He blinks a few times.

"Huh. I guess I do."

(Tsuna reincarnates as Kakuzu and it's HILARIOUS. HE'S SUCH A MOM HAHAHA)

#Fanfiction #AO3 #Fic Rec #Fic Rec List #Podcasts #The Magnus Archives #Supernatural #Avatar The Last Airbender #Naruto #The Magicians #Game of Thrones #Haikyuu!!#Crossover #Matilda #Welcome to Night Vale #Harry Potter #Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them #Katekyou Hitman Reborn

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harrisonsblues · 3 years ago

Note

yes pls explain the premise of this beatles/star wars crossover i NEED to understand

Someone else also asked so here lol

Basically I don’t even have an idea for a plot yet just some vague ideas for where each person would fit into the story (so if anyone has any plot ideas please do let me know!)

So this would probably take place either between episodes III and IV or also maybe before ep I cause it’s easier to make up new things without them conflicting with the real canon story. But I kinda like the idea of this all happening during the Empire era so idk.

But the basic premise is that Brian is a Jedi master who works with the Republic/Rebellion, and one day he comes accross these 4 young boys who play in the band at the Mos Eisley cantina in Tattooine (it’d be the equivalent of the Cavern Club), and he learns that some of them are Force-sensitive so he decides to train them in the Jedi ways so they can help save the galaxy.

My idea was that all of them are Force-sensitive except Ringo, who is a Han-Solo-style-blaster-type guy. He’s also an excellent pilot, so he’s usually the one in charge of flying or doing anything ship-related. Paul is like the most devoted to the Light Side in his use of the Force (like he’s the least likely to be tempted by the Dark Side) but probably the weakest Force user. He has a blue lightsaber and would mainly use a more defensive combat style like Form II or VI. George has a double green lightsaber and is the most powerful Padawan of the three (I think this makes sense given his devotion to religion and spirituality in real life). However he has been known to dabble in the Dark Side occasionally, so he probably uses Form VII/Vapaad in combat (which Brian is not super happy about as it’s highly controversial). He’s also more prone to Force visions and dreams and that kind of thing. And John… well, he’s like Anakin Skywalker in a lot of ways. He’s smart, strong, quick-witted and powerful in the Force (although his use of it is very chaotic compared to Geo and Paul) but also easily tempted by the Dark Side, which would be a major plot point in the story. He has a green lightsaber which of course would switch to red if he ever changes sides, and I think he’d use Form IV of combat (an aggressive, attack-oriented style). Btw Brian has a blue saber and probably uses Form III, which is a defensive style mainly based on trying to read the enemy. He was part of the Jedi Order at some point too (like he was actually properly trained in the Force since he was very young).

Also I had thought that George Martin would be an Imperial officer (or the equivalent depending on what time period we’re talking). He and Brian go way back as they’ve faced each other many times, but Brian can sense that GM doesn’t actually want to be in the Empire, so eventually he gets him to join the Rebellion/Republic/whatever it is. So GM eventually becomes the leader of that group, a Princess Leia type of character. Also in the same vein as Leia, he might be Force sensitive but hasn’t really tapped into it yet (he might be able to sense big events like someone dying or a planet being destroyed)

For the villains, in accordance with the Rule of Two of course we would need two Sith, so I figured Allen Klein could be the master and Yoko Ono his apprentice? That way it follows that John is tempted by both of them but the others (especially Paul 👀👀) would try to snap him out of it. John can have a more individual battle with Yoko maybe but they would all face off Allen Klein as the final boss since he was a dick to all of them lol.

I’m also wondering where people like Stu Sutcliffe and Pete Best and the other wives might fit into the story, and how, if at all, music might be involved in the story as well (for example it being something that the boys and GM bond over, etc.)

So yeah if anyone has any ideas or would like to help me develop this please lmk! I’d love to talk about Beatles/SW headcanons omg ☺️

#sorry for all the nerdy words!#i’m a big sw fan #i hope everything was clear and if not lmk #i’m more than happy to explain!#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon #star wars #beatles/star wars fanfic #asks #odearjohn #anon #my post

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ashren · 3 years ago

Note

I'm taking you down with me, bud! ❤️🌛 I challenge you to ALSO do all of the Part II questions!

Ooooooo Thank you!!!! I hope ur ready for some Ren Facts 😎 (the rest is under the cut just bc it's long lol)

1. What are your OC's best and worst qualities What do they think are their best and worst qualities?

Ren's best quality is probably his loyalty. Once he trusts someone, he's ride or die. For the most part.

His worst quality is that he holds a Grudge. He's pissed at Max for a LONG time after the scholar thing, and doesn't fully come around until well after Scylla. He's been hurt a few too many times to take what he sees as betrayal lightly.

Ren would probably agree his best quality is his loyalty, but he would say his worst quality is his temper.

2. Is there a meaning behind their name, or a particular reason why they have it? (either in the story, or why you as the author decided to give them their name)

I just answered a question about Ren's name so Ill give the real world answer! Genuinely, I saw someone with the nickname Ren when i was at work and i was like Yo that's a cool name. And i snatched it up. I steal a lot of cool names from work 😂😅

3. What does their voice sound like, in a couple of words? (ie soft, scratchy, seductive, high pitched, etc)

Oddly?? I haven't thought about it much! He's trans and was on T on Earth, and I've guess i always imagined like a bit lower and kinda scratchy? Look, Ive been on T for a while and only JUST realized like a month ago that my voice changed a lot, I'm not good with like,,, voices or describing them fjalfjalf

4. Do they have any underlying motivations? (ie hey seem hard-working but secretly just don't want to fall back into poverty, etc)

Ren's secretive about exactly what they're doing for Phineas at first, because he's not sure he can trust ANYONE, but as soon as he warms up to the crew and to Phineas, he's pretty straight forward with them. He doesn't tell them about his past on Earth for a while, but he came to Halcyon to start over as a paramedic. He truly wants to save the people on the Hope, and believes they can help save the colony.

5. Does their fashion sense reflect an aspect of their personality? (ie bright and colorful outfits symbolizing that they're an upbeat person)

Ren ends up wearing old altered Iconiclast armor. He uses his own fabric in colors he's not mistaken for the Iconiclasts. He ends up choosing the blue for the head scarf and detailing because he stopped dying his hair when he got to Halcyon (too much work) so it's a little homage to the hair color he sported for years. That's not really the answer to the question but... i'm leaving it there 😅

6. Do they have any tattoos? What are they, and why did they get them?

YES! On his left arm he has the word FUCK tattooed. His late husband Johnny had "SHIT" tattooed on him, because those were the first words they said to each other. Once they realized that after they got married, they got it tattooed

I want Ren to have more tattoos but i haven't put that much thought into it lol I think he'd get some in Halcyon too, and not all of them would have some grand meaning! I think eventually he'd get something to commemorate his original crew on the Unreliable

7. What is their biggest insecurity?

Ren biggest insecurity is that he doesn't believe he's as morally good as he really is. He has a checkered past on Earth, but really it's bc he's more of a Chaotic Good type than a Neutral Good.

However, he still thinks he's way in over his head and doesn't ever know if he's doing the right thing.

8. What is their coping mechanism?

Fake it til u make it baybee. That and cigarettes. He doesn't drink so much anymore, but he smokes as an anxious habit when he's not Doing Great (and generally only then, so if he's smoking, he's going through it)

9. What is their main love language? (gifts, quality time, acts of service, physical touch, words of affirmation)

Oooo copy pasting this one bc i answered it before from a different ask thing and im too lazy too type a new answer :,) :

Ren's love language is definitely physical touch, acts of service are important to him, but being physical close to his people is the best. Makes for fun moments when someone Ren cares about helps bandage him up after a fight uwu

10. What is their MBTI type?

INJF (idk i made it up im too lazy to go through and do that sorry lol)

11. What kind of person are they most compatible with? (platonic or romantic)

Queer people, generally, but anyone who isn't a dick 😂

He doesn't really like cynical people, even though he can be kinda cynical himself sometimes, so he finds it really hard to get along with Max and Ellie through the story. Ellie and Ren definitely bond somewhat after her quest, and Max kinda gets over the most annoying if his cynicism after his quest, so that helps a lot.

12. How do they feel about romantic relationships? Are they into casual flings or more serious, long-term romances? Or are they uninterested?

Very interested on all levels lol. Ren is very casual about sex, he's more of a 'it's a fun activity' kind of guy. He's totally happy with casual flings, however! He is also a romantic. In an ideal world, his partner(s) would be open to the idea of non monogamy, but if not, Ren would be absolutely fine with settling down with the right person. (spoilers i give Ren his happy ending........ no pun intended)

13. What are their views on marriage? If they want to get married, what would their dream wedding be like?

Ren's been married! He and Johnny got married for the benefit status, though. Ren doesn't particularly care about marriage as an institution, but he did enjoy having a party to celebrate his and Johnny's love, soooo he's not closed to the idea in the future. He wouldn't be the one to ask for one though.

14. How is their relationship with their family Which family member are they closest to?

Non existant. He cut off communication with his parents right after high school. He kept tabs on them from a distance for a while, but eventually stopped checking in on them. He used to spend summers on his uncle's dairy farm, though, and before he cut off his parents, his Uncle was probably the person he was closest too. It wasn't a very familial relationship, though, and he didn't answer after Ren reached out in his 20s. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

15. Has their personality changed at all since they were a child? Why?

Absolutely. Ren grew up with grossly wealthy parents, so he was coddled and shielded by a lot as a child. Until High school he was probably kinda like those pretentious little kids who's low key annoying, but i'm high school he learned about the horrors of ~capitalism~ and things went downhill from their (or uphill? Because he's definitely a better person for it 😅)

16. How do other characters in the story view them?

Ooooo, this is a tricky one, it depends on the timeline of the game, but at first I think their all a little bit optimistically confused by him lol. He's a stranger who came out of nowhere and is offering to help (for a fee sometimes), but then is actually capable of surviving in this colony while not knowing what "Tossball" is.

By the end of the game, they all see him as more human and less superhero, understanding he has his limits, but by the end of the game there's definitely a mutual respect from everyone on the crew. I could go more into each persons opinions but this would be twice as long as it already will be lmfao

17. How many hours of sleep does your OC get on average?

Not enough :,)

18. Where do they see themself in ten years?

Ideally, he, Phineas, and Hiram are settled down somewhere relatively safe in the colony and he and Hiram can work on the colony while Phineas relaxes and works in his own projects for fun for once in his life

19. If they had a theme song, what would it be?

BRONCO ORVILLE PECK (literally listening to it as i type 😇)

20. What AU would they belong in the best?

PIRATES hahaha probably bc i'm writing that one 🥴 but really ive thrown Ren into every AU at this point (at least in my head, if not scribbled somewhere in a notebook)

for the purposes of the ask~ i'll stick with pirates haha

#that was really fun!!! i might do this for some of my other OCs too #especially since most of them don't have much info on them yet!!#posted anyway #it's allllll in my brain tho 🧠#ask game #ren facts!#ren hawthorne #outer worlds oc

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moonlit-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

#tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark #iron man x daughter!reader #iron man imagine #iron man x reader #iron man #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #avengers

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ciaran-archive · 4 years ago

Note

"neil being stupidly in love with the protagonist and doing a highspeed retake of that process with the younger version of him"

aaaaaaa i love how you describe this so much omggg this is EXACTLY it??? also how neil is Not Okay(TM) throughout the entire movie and hides it so very well (except for his completely trashed and heartbroken looks during mumbai).

i believe the protag is actually aware at some level, of neil going around in this perpetual sadness, but is just much too much of a professional to ever bring up something that's obviously very private and personal. he had most probably thought that after the world is saved and the dust has settled, they would have finally have time together, and he can ask neil about it. neil has promised his life story, after all.

but alas. neil goes off to die instead, to save him. so now what 😭

anyway praying to the fic gods for the rest of your tenet fics to see the light of day! <3

neil probably spent the days and weeks after protag died in his timeline daydrinking and crying and then ives bangs on his door and tells him he has to go to the past and rescue protag and neil is MY TIME HAS COME and just throws on a suit and travels back and forgets how fucking wasted he looks. we love a grieving pining idiot.

i love the idea that the protag is aware of neil’s sadness but doesn’t feel able to do anything about it and he can’t even bring it up....and honestly neil kind of doesn’t give him a chance? he’s so On all the time because he’s a chaotic little performer and it’s been a while since he’s had protag’s eyes on him and he wants the thrill of that attention again without distracting protag with his own shit (and in the middle of saving the world, no less). so that leaves the protag thinking they have time and neil going “i have five minutes to save the world and make him not hate me go go GO” and it’s just [holds them gently] [locks them in a room together].

i’m toying with the idea of neil leaving letters behind. i bet the protag didn’t tell neil about the sator thing until the end (if at all) but he must’ve told neil about his other cases, and i’m really into the idea of neil leaving letters for the protag to find at the end of every case. i imagine the protag’s really lonely in the long shadow years between neil and neil again, busy establishing tenet and their networks and it’s satisfying but it’s exhausting and idk i just like the idea of neil writing stuff like “that kid you tossed out of the way of a bomb last week will go on to work for doctors without borders and save three of our agents’ lives thirty years later,” and just...a lot of stuff that reminds the protag that he’s not saving the world for nothing.

when he meets neil again, neil doesn’t know about the letters, but i bet he finds the box of them that the protag keeps and reads a couple before the protag takes it out of his hands and that’s how he starts writing them and making agents leave them in the past...finding ways to take care of his husband in the years he wasn’t around to do it himself.

my unposted/incomplete tenet fics are as such

aforementioned letters idea but very different; neil leaves himself letters.

a character study thing about neil pining for protag while protag’s busy burning himself out to save the world

He’s so much more delicate than anyone understands, and so much more lonely. When you were fresh out of MI6 and dead not six months you thought that was projection, but it’s not. He’s as steady as time and as ineffable as the ocean, but he’s only a person at the end of the day. He needs someone to bring him dinner and pour him a glass of water.

You aren’t sure what you are to him, but you know you’ll be anything he wants you to be. When you were young you thought of yourself as an action-hero, like all young boys—but this is his movie, and you’re just the guy that dies to save him.

You’re okay with that.

?? fic about neil being a jaded washed-up genius physicist that no one takes seriously due to the esoteric nature of his work when the protag meets him, and the protag being fascinated by a version of neil that isn’t the enthusiastic, eager, devoted one he remembers.

thank you for your interest in them! <3 i hope i manage to get them to a place i’m happy with at some point

#the second one is so sad which is kind of why...i want to complete it #but it's nowhere near done #the first one is the most complete but i'm the least happy with it #fksdjkas #tenet #bloodredandvividblue #asks #writelogging

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synoxshots · 4 years ago

Text

The Master KOTET Adventure

Well at last, my journey is complete. This was some of the most frustrating, and at times hilariously so, content I’ve ever done - but at the same time there were some parts that felt really rewarding and, dare I say it, even enjoyable.

So as with my Master KOTFE adventure, I’ve written it all up in case you should ever find yourself wanting a go. As with before, I play a Rage Jugg, 306 gear, Descent of the Fearless set, fully augmented but not min-maxed. Here’s how it went, and warning, it gets long:

Chapter I

I was hopeful about this chapter as it's the only one I'd completed on veteran, and I was already much more prepared. On master though, it still caused me problems. The first death was an unexpected attack from a Knight that dealt like 140,000 damage, which, ouch... The first boss was the main cause of difficulty in this chapter for me, which was the PA-717 droid. The best tactic was basically just stay as close as possible to it, stay out of its blue conal and hope you don't get shoved into mines, and just hit it as hard as you can. Took a few attempts and the successful one was itself a close call, with Lana dying with probably around 15% health left (didn't get to check exactly because, you know, fighting for my life). After that there's quite a few mobs already engaged in battles with Mandos, I just ran through them, also ignored the bonus objectives which I don't think made any difference.

You have a cutscene where you catch up with Theron and then face swarms of Skytroopers in a building. It is probably beneficial to have range here as there are kolto stations which I didn't manage to use a lot because I was always chasing after the droids. It does give you a checkpoint before the Knights come along, and even if you die then the battle carries on around you (and I had to file a bug report as my heroic moment wasn't working properly, so actually kind of cheesed the boss a bit by letting others deal with it ha). Once revived though, it wasn't so bad.

The walker is everyone's nightmare in this chapter. I follow this guide every time now and it does save a lot of hassle. The final walker fight actually went the best it's ever gone for me, I found the mobs a lot harder than the Big Droid at the end which didn't really touch me that much. No real difficulties after that.

Chapter II

This is the one I'd been fearing from the start, as it's regarded as one of the most difficult things to do in the game solo. I remember trying it on vet mode with my PT and not even being able to get past the jungle creatures, i.e. the very first mob. The only slice of hope was that I've heard the difference between vet mode and master mode isn't massive, but. It was still horrible. Died once on the jungle creatures but it wasn't a big problem really, and that was a fight that didn't reset progress so I got it on the second attempt. Not easy, but manageable. The first big challenge is the Genoharadan Scout camp, and honestly several attempts with a few different tactics didn't seem to get me anywhere (though on one I did get reasonably close) - so I called in a friend and we got through it quickly. No problems from then onwards until we got to the last boss, the Genoharadan Leader plus two hunters. And that was a Time.

As 2 dps with 2 healing companions, we went for targeting the hunters first, and generally we managed to get both of them down, but our companions would either be dead or very close to it. I'm not great at micromanaging companions anyway, and that was something that was definitely needed with Acina to pull her out of the fire and on the ground and all that. So we called in a tank to join us, and we made progress but still struggled. We did discover that with the people you call in, if they die it's alright to go to the med centre and then run back to the room and rejoin the fight without it resetting - but for the phase owner if they die, they can't leave the room (leaving the room will exit the battle, and on this fight it does reset progress). So we decided the best course of action was to get a Real Person Healer to join us rather than Acina, who will stand in everything. Funnily enough, having an actual person proved much more effective and we got it first time! It's a very chaotic fight overall, you get chucked around a lot, there's lots of ridiculously high damage abilities, lots of things to stand in and die, and so on. I definitely wouldn't recommend going alone. Acina will stay with you, doesn't seem to matter what the group size is - she stayed with us when we had a group of four - her influence level is also at the start of the chapter though I raised it to 50 (she's another who likes delicacy gifts which is always good). It was brutal, but it's done.

Chapter III

A nice breather, no deaths at all. I even managed the mouse droid on the first attempt! Stealth squads of troopers bring health down a bit but nothing to worry about, was always in control. Vaylin fight doesn't matter so much as it cuts out early. No real boss fight.

Chapter IV

This one caused me more problems than I thought it would, as though there's no real boss fight there is a swarm near the end and after many attempts on my own, trying to raise Vette's influence further to see if it would help (it did, but not enough), I had to call in a friend. Still took a few attempts with the two of us. Initially we went for having both comps on heals, then we found it was better to have one healing and one dps to nuke it a bit, and eventually we got through it - though I only had 6% health left. It was another of those fights where it resets completely on dying, though your friend can go to medcenter and jump back into the fight. Jugg just wasn't the ideal class for that one I think. After that there were no problems, beforehand it was just the odd Compactor Droid causing me issues, though as long as I used my defensives efficiently it was fine as they lose health quickly too.

Chapter V

This one wasn't too bad. Quite a lot of waves of droid mobs again, they do take your health down quite a bit, but by this stage I'm used to that! It's just a chapter where staying out of red things is key really. When you face the giant droid you don't get hit too much, just watch out when it's the time the repair droids come along because being caught in the big attacks will hurt. The droid does lose health at a good pace though. When you go in the droid it's a pretty simple fight, just have to make sure you regen your health regularly (one time I did not and guess what happened?).

I didn't die on the fight against ARIES. From what I'd read, the key seemed to be staying out of melee range...not ideal for a Jugg. So I decided on keeping mobile and utilising my attacks that did have a bit of range as much as possible. (ARIES also tells you to stand still if you want to die, a good reminder if you still needed one!). It was a bit grindy but my health was never really a concern, I ran around a lot and stayed out of the red and all was well.

Chapter VI

So this one was another Experience. Half of it is a puzzle which is a nice change of pace, and no different from story. I would recommend at this stage doing the Bergola bonus mission - I'd never actually done it before, but it does mean you don't need to fight the extra pups when the beast pit starts, and instead have them on your side. Which is definitely a help of sorts, but that fight in the beast pit is definitely something. The best tactic seemed to be getting as many stuns in as possible, as he can be stunned and interrupted - I put Theron onto damage as well to use his stun, used heroic moments for the extra stuns as well. The beast casts a big circle around itself that takes out nearly all of your health, and he has a habit of hitting you as soon as you get out of it and killing you as well, in short it wasn't fun on melee and involved lots of screaming and running away. The other thing is kite him away from Indo Zal, just take him the opposite direction to keep him alive.

And then the very interesting thing. Because it was Hell I invited a friend to come along. HOWEVER, they were stuck in the Zakuulan Knight armour that you wear at the start of the chapter and couldn't do any abilities apart from a bit of companion micromanagement and a lot of emotional support. They also put their companion onto attack for the extra stun, then heal later in the chapter to try and throw some heals at me during the Arcann fight.

That Arcann fight...I chose the light side options in chapter II so I had him on my side, but that didn't make the chapter easier. You're not able to heal Arcann so I just tried to taunt things off him if his health was getting low. I focused on the Captain and tried to ignore the adds as much as possible, used Arcann's reflect to take them out, starting the fight with his taunt and then praying I hit the guard break in time so I could do damage...I had Theron on damage here as well as the plan was basically burn as quickly as possible. It may be better on a character that has some ability to heal Arcann as companions won't...or it may be better to take the dark side option earlier in the story so you're fighting against him rather than with him (though that's a trade-off with the final chapter fights).

This chapter was certainly a trial but we got there in the end. It's best to keep a level head and not panic, skills that I did not pick up from my class trainer and instead ran around in fear and at times forgot how to swtor.

Chapter VII

This is an interesting chapter without masses of fighting, there's 3 boss fights but not masses of trash in-between. First up is the Horizon Guard, which took three or four attempts but really the best strategy for me was nuke him with a heroic moment, stuns, and interrupts. The main challenge I had on this chapter was the two Twisted Experiments. They cast corrosive goo, which you see as a green circle. It can be interrupted, they can be stunned, so it was just a matter of managing that. It was difficult with the two of them there - with a Jugg I used intimidating roar to give me some time to blast just one, it may help to use a stealth class that can stun better, or a sorc/sage that can whirlwind. The good thing is that it was finally a fight in KotET that doesn't reset your progress, so if you take one down you don't have to restart the whole thing. It does bug when you die though - you end up behind a locked door and have to leave and re-enter the phase. That was only the case on the first death though. Or else I would have done it a lot.

Last up is the Corrupted Vault Guardian. Didn't die on this fight, though I did on the two elites before - mostly because I lost Lana early and couldn't use a heroic moment. I ran around the room, stunning/slowing and interrupting as I could, nearly got through without dying anyway and again it's not a fight that resets. The Guardian boss covers the floor in red stuff called morass, it doesn't go away, so manoeuvre him well or blast him fast. Or don't, like me. I just kind of kited him round the room, he doesn't move fast. Lost Lana at the end because she couldn't avoid the morass but I could, and by then he was nearly dead. Because I didn't die on this I didn't really read up on the mechanics, because on reading my go-to guide it looks like there's more - so er, that's probably a good thing to do if you have trouble! Overall though, this was a chapter with challenges but I found it had a better balance between being challenging and enjoyable.

Chapter VIII

One of the easiest chapters of the bunch. There's lots of trash, and quite a bit of it skippable - either as it is already in combat, or my manoeuvring around it. The walker is a pain but was never at risk of dying. Some interesting bits though. You face a guy called Tyrall Jerikko where the Gravestone is dry-docked, he has two droids with him so I yeeted one off - it disappeared but didn't die, I got through the fight...Tyrall and the droids then respawned so I had to do it again. Hmm. I still yeeted the droid again though, it also didn't die but the fight mostly worked properly at least, I lost Lana (not sure why) but I was never in much danger. The other minor issue I had was in the fight with the Knight just before rescuing Vette, not entirely sure what happened, the adds just seemed to overwhelm me. Used a heroic moment and the cannon you're given on my second go and it took a matter of seconds.

Vaylin is actually an easy fight, though it took 3 attempts - the first I didn't plan for her adds properly, the second I was yeeted. Having Arcann with me meant I got his abilities from chapter 6 again - the taunt and reflect - which took the adds out. Heroic moment also does the trick, though I didn't have it on my successful run. Stay at melee range - in her purple circle she keeps close and you're fine. If you're wiser than me, look for when she's about to do the explosion with the knockback and get yourself against a wall so you don't get thrown off. Or be like me, and don't.

Chapter IX

So the final chapter. It's in two halves basically - with the first there's no boss, buy there is a lot of trash. I had Arcann and Senya has my companions, which meant I had Arcann's abilities again which are brilliant for dealing with trash, and I was getting better at managing them as well. Use his taunt and reflect, it speeds things up. There's two major waves that end with two Knights coming along and it was on those where I had the trouble - it just got a bit too much at the end and with things on cooldown. But the fights don't reset, I put heroic moment on just in case, the Knights were blasted in seconds. It may be more tricky if you have Lana and Theron, but I think these are fights more of annoyance rather than being impossible.

The second half, then. First you fight Vaylin, it's the same mechanics from the previous chapter and not too difficult to deal with. I had Dramath with me so I had the healing, it may be a bit more difficult if you take the light sided decision in chapter 7. He's auto-boosted up to level 45. Again, watch out for the knockbacks.

If you saved Arcann, he's your companion in the final fight. After a quick death I ran to fleet and gave him a compendium so he went up to level 50 influence. Fighting Valkorion is very challenging, and involves lots of running around to get out of line of sight of his attacks - things like Project and Force Storm that will take two thirds or so of your health and leave you desperate to find a memory of healing, at which point you'll inevitably get slowed down by his Dark Ritual and not make it and die (this can be interrupted, but I was rarely within range to do so because...kiting).

The basic idea on this one is when he shifts to the light/dark, you follow suit - it seems to be random as to which one he goes to. When you're shifting make sure you hide behind rocks or something (under the stairs is the best bet I found) - so none of those nasty abilities wipe chunks of your health again. It became a bit of a game of hide and seek from there. The light side abilities seem to have faster cast times than the dark, where often he'd get me with a dark ritual whilst I was trying to hit him. You need to survive one of these phases, switch back to normal, use the holocron ability again, and on the second light/dark phase is when he dies. This took many attempts, though it doesn't seem to affect your repair bills too badly which is a plus.

Some final notes:

Going Commando once again proved a valuable resource, with plenty of tips and general experiences of doing it. My experience didn't always match up to theirs, in part due to the classes we used, but there's a wealth of information there.

I think experiences will vary depending on your choice with Arcann in the first chapter. He was a pain to use in chapter 6, but his abilities were very useful in chapters 8 and 9.

On average I'd say it's more difficult than KotFE - the hardest chapters are very hard, and I brought a friend along three times (well, two and a half, given the chapter 6 experience) because I was just not making progress - whereas I only had help once in KotFE.

As with KotFE, different classes are probably better suited to different chapters, and if you’re just seeking the achievement and have the options available - you might want to try different things accordingly. I think Jugg/Guardian is a decent all-round bet though, plus I made myself a Grit Teeth which gives me even more survivability.

I think this has made me a better player! That may be up for debate, and I’m still prone to wild panic a lot of the time, but there were also lots of times I really found myself better at studying mechanics and finding the best strategies for me to beat them.

Completing a master chapter completes the achievement for veteran (and story) as well, so it’s a great way to rack up cheevos - and now my KotET completion is at 100% which is incredibly satisfying. But it doesn’t grant a title, sadly.

Another shoutout to @sparkles-and-rust as my go to when I needed a helping hand or just some emotional support!

#swtor #kotet #master kotet adventures #ro goes achievement hunting

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vesper-1898 · 4 years ago

Text

Accidental Hand Holding

Chapter 2 of - What’s your story?

Read on ao3

It all happened during a meeting almost the whole rebellion attended.

They were aboard one of the cruisers that had been serving as a temporal “base” for the Rebel Alliance ever since the evacuation of Yavin IV.

Back then, it was absolute chaos.

As organized as the evacuation had been no one knew what would happen next. Everyone had followed orders boarding their assigned cruisers, reporting to their commanding officer, and standing still in case of a quick deployment. But that was it. There wasn’t a plan for what would happen next. No place to go next.

Seeing the chaotic estate of what was left of the Rebellion, the higher ups decided to do something about it.

The obligatory meeting started as soon as the public announcement was made. It was held in the main cruiser but transmitted via hologram to the other ships, making it available for everyone to see.

And after two hours into the meeting, Cassian was finally seeing an end to it.

By now, all important matters had been arranged; everything from stationary bases to flight squads distribution. Lastly, General Cracken was explaining the very boring topic of room assignment aboard each cruiser.

At this point almost everybody wasn’t paying attention anymore. After two long hours only a few could really stay focused through that much, him included. People had started gossiping in the back roads, some fell asleep, and some others were still awake but most likely daydreaming they were out of there.

He had managed to pay attention this far thankfully to his training, and even with it, thoughts of just doing something more productive had started roaming his mind. He was sure he would have made it through the whole thing if Jyn hadn’t been distracting him.

When she had finally started focusing her attention on something else; he wasn’t surprised. Amazingly, she had lasted all this time focused on the meeting too. He knew she wasn’t one to stay still just listening for that long.

They had been sitting so close together, shoulder bumping against shoulder in the overcrowded place, that apparently her first distraction had been playing with the first thing she found: his left hand.

One would think that being able to focus through battlefields and other stressing situations was enough experience to focus when someone was simply holding your hand. And being totally honest Cassian knew this was just distracting because it was Jyn who was doing it.

Somehow, she always had this kind of effect on him. No matter how small the touch, it was enough to distract him. She tended to slip through his defenses getting his undivided attention without her openly trying to so, and this far he couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

So, when she pulled his arm over to her lap to have better access to his hand, he didn’t put any resistance.

Instead of listening to whatever General Cracken was saying he watched as she started to examine his hand. First, she used her fingers to trace all the lines of his palm; then, she ran them alongside the two small scars near his thumb turning to face him with a questioning glare.

Right, she didn’t know the story of those

“It happened when I reprogrammed Kay, kind of” he whispered. Knowing she could get the rest of the story later she only replied with an acknowledging nod and a smile that might have left him staring for more than just a few seconds.

She continued with the inspection of his hand, now paying special attention to each finger, using her whole hand to maneuver them the way she wanted, either flexing or extending them.

At one point she ended interviewing their fingers making it easier to manipulate his whole arm for her amusement.

Cassian had been so engrossed in Jyn playing with his hand that his attention only returned to the meeting when the front rows started to stand up, indicating the meeting was finally over. Thanks to the Force. He and Jyn also stood up following the rest of the people out the room into one of the ship's main hallways.

“Hey, I told Bodhi I would see him in the mess hall, you comin’?”

“Yeah, sure” now that he thought of it, he could really use some caff.

As they made their way to the mess hall with Jyn telling him the story of how she practically saved her whole pathfinders squad on their last mission, he started to notice the strange looks they got from practically everyone they passed by.

Sure, they hadn’t made their relationship openly official, just their friends knew, but according to Baze everyone in the whole rebellion knew they were crazy for each other, and normally even before technically dating they tended to spend most of their time together, so seeing them together shouldn’t be that attention catching.

He ignored the stares the rest of the way, convinced he was overreacting. He knew sometimes people just liked to gossip, and maybe after 2 hours of a really tiresome meeting they were eager for anything to gossip about.

When they reached the mess hall Bodhi was already there sitting at their usual table.

“How did you arrive here so fast?” Jyn asked as they sat in the opposite side of the table

“I arrived late at the meeting, had to stand through all of it.” He explained not looking particularly happy about it “But at least I managed to sneak out earlier”

To Cassian’s surprise, Bodhi was giving them the exact same look they had been getting from everyone in the hallways. This time Jyn didn’t miss it, and immediately questioned their friend.

“What?”

“Oh. Nothing”

“C’mon Bodhi. You aren’t a really good liar” even though she tended to go easier on Bodhi, he was still smart enough to no push his luck

“It’s just that you two look so cute together. Holding hands and all” and oh, that’s why they were getting so many glances.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jyn blush, but she didn’t make any move to let go of his hand. Apparently, they had forgotten the fact that they were still holding hands. It slightly amazed him how she first got his whole attention and then just became such a familiar touch that he completely forgot about it.

Leaving no time for Jyn to answer in what would most likely be an angry/menacing retort, he stood up thinking for a way to change the subject into something less awkward “I’m going to get some caff. Why don’t you tell Bodhi the story you were telling me of your last mission?”

“Who did you hit this time?” Thankfully Bodhi played along

“No one that didn’t deserve it” seeing they were still hand holding, she used it to her advantage pulling his arm just a bit towards her getting his attention back “Can you get me some caff too?”

“Sure” he gave her hand a small squeeze -that hopefully worked as a reassurance of some kind- before letting go, and turning around to head for the much-needed caff.

#rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #myfic

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hecohansen31 · 5 years ago

Text

Not The Right Time

The Story Of How He Found Out:

Ivar+Reader (Modern! AU)

(Chapter 1: The Story of How We Ended Up There)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I know it’s been a long time since I post this series, and I just wanted to also thank you for the warm welcome you showed it, I was immediately prompted to write more since I felt like it was very wanted.

I am also glad I was able to portray such a theme in the best way, enough not to seem judging or annoying and I am going to repeat that if you feel judged even in the slightest, please let me know and tell me what I could do to make it better.

I hope you’ll like it, again and any feedback is more than welcome!

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: It isn’t coincidence anymore when Destiny is trying its best to push you together, even exposing your ‘small secret’ to Ivar.

WORDS: 8 K

WARNINGS: Pregnancy, Unexpected Pregnancy, Pregnancy at a Young Age, Mention of Abortion (and Being Harsh About it), Heartbreak and General Angst, Abandonement Issues and Being A Single Mom, Mention of Infertility, Talk about Custody Battles and Custody, Use of The World ‘Cripple’.

Ivar had a hate-love relationship with taking care of his nephew and niece.

He certainly hated being waken up at 8 p.m. on a luxurious Saturday morning just to babysit his brother’s children, meanwhile he and Torvi went ‘shopping for the newest arrival’, which meant they would probably screw around the entire day.

But he loved the way his niece and nephew’s eyes would light up softly as they came to him, immediately almost tackling him to a ground in a way that made him want children of his own.

Had he ever been able to have one…

Freydis hadn’t been there when the call had arrived.

He remembered she had to go through some treatments and although he had insisted to go with her, she hadn’t wanted him.

‘It’s just… womanly things… I would feel more comfortable going alone’ and he had immediately respected the wishes of his goddess.

So, in the end, he was extremely grateful for the children’s company who had convinced him to drive to another park from the one near his house, because… ‘this one was better, uncle Iv’.

He drove there and let the children quickly spatter themselves around, after they had both thanked him with a quick kiss, keeping an eye on them, not wanting to let them wander too far away:.

Once Hvitserk had been tasked with the ‘babysitting’ since Ivar was busy with some medical visits and he had come back home without the children.

Thankfully the McDonald’s employees had called Torvi and Ubbe immediately, after they had found their children in the fast food restaurant …

He got his phone out, since he thoroughly hated to acknowledge the stares people always sent his way when this happene.

Some would eye him as if they were worried he would grab their children and run, but the actual worst was when they would stare at him with soft pity in their eyes.

So, he preferred to check his phone, shooting a small look at the children who were running freely, around the small park, over the slide and in the little sand box.

And then he saw you.

You weren’t in your job uniform, a loose sweatshirt and a pair of skinny and worn out jeans with some rips on the knees, the entire outfit completed by a pair of dirtied sneakers.

Your hair was in an high ponytail as your eyes sprinkled over the park.

He didn’t know how you could be so fascinating even in that ‘worn out’ mise, but as you turned lightly to him, he was finally able to understand why: your smile was the prettiest thing he had ever seen, and almost attracted by it, he got up and moved to you.

He didn’t know why he did it, but he just felt like seeing you closer, discovering that you hadn’t lost the little moles under your nose and your nails were still painted of the brightest colors, after all this time.

You also hadn’t lost the lovely curves you always had owned, but they fell in a different and more mature way now.

He stopped staring at them as you raised your face meeting his gaze.

And immediately that smile disappeared from your face.

And Ivar didn’t know what to say.

His curiosity had gotten the best of him, but now that he was in front of her, he didn’t know what to do.

So, he went with kindness.

“… hey” it was a weak mumble, but it was all he could utter, as you shieded away your gaze from him, definitely nervous and at unease “… I swear I am not stalking you!”.

“Are you sure, Ivar Lothbrock?” the way you taunted him with his name and his surname made a shiver appear on his back, as it moved down its spine disappearing under his skin “… we haven’t met each other in five years and then suddenly… we met each other two days in a row?”.

“… well that might indeed make you doubtful, but I come bearing good intentions” he prompted immediately, raising his hands and a small laugh came onto your face “Maybe you should take it as a sign that we need to seriously take that coffee, one day”.

“Too busy” you tutted lightly as you shook your head, your small smile becoming algid cold and he knew better than to insist, although his body wanted nothing more than to meet you again.

But he just didn’t understand this impulse.

Why, most of all, it happened when he was happily tying the knot with his lovely fiancée?

He was even trying for a child, undergoing hours and hours of physical and psychological therapy.

Still, how did they say?

You could never forget your first love.

“… I know that we didn’t leave on the happiest note” he mumbled not even truly knowing why he was saying that, although he had wanted to tell you this right after the aching confession on that diner that damned day “… but I missed you”.

The revelation shook you, enough that you weren’t able to properly hide your thoughts and surprise, shown with the way you moved your eyes away from his, not facing him but unable to close your mouth in a stern expression, as your hands were clutched together tight.

“… I… “ he was ready for the worst of insults, maybe a small ‘I missed you, too’, although it wouldn’t have been in your personality, but he certainly hadn’t expected a small child moving towards them, or better… crawling towards them.

“Mommy, mommy!” he called out softly as he moved towards you, adjusting his shirt, a bit dirtied by the wet ground of the park, but he didn’t seem to care, shooting you a beautiful smile, the ones that only children had “… can we stay a bit longer?”.

And if the crawling hadn’t already put him on guard as the child raised his head, he showed him the same blue eyes he saw each day in the mirror.

He shot you a look, as you immediately shrank away from him, moving towards the child as you helped him up, easing him onto the light braces you had in a small fabric bag beside you, Ivar hadn’t noticed.

You helped the child in them expertly, as he continued on pleading on staying more but you were a woman on a mission.

And Ivar was a man glued on the ground beneath his feet.

“Eric, sweetheart, we promised that we would have had lunch with grandma and you also need a bath” your tone was sweet but stern, but it wasn’t tender because of his situation, but more because of a motherly instinct.

As the baby has his braces again, he was able to stand upright and he turned to Ivar, almost asking for some help with his mother, but as he did so, he realized that Ivar wore similar braces the search of pity became surprise.

“Mom, mom! He is like me!” there was no intention to shame him, but simple childish naivety and joyful happiness, but you immediately turned away from Ivar, and shot him one last look, as the big burly man not only found him stuck on the ground, but also speechless.

“It was nice meeting you Ivar, but I hope that you won’t found me again”.

And like that, you were gone.

With what looked like his child.

---

You weren’t able to properly feel safe till you heard the door slamming as Eric complained lightly about ‘wanting to play more’.

Your mother appeared from the kitchen, her hair still damp from the shower she had had.

To try to help you and Eric she had taken a small job at the florist shop near your house: she had always loved plants and flowers so she actually enjoyed working there, and sometimes would bring small plants home to ‘brighten the mood’.

“Eric, (Y/N)?” she looked at you weirded out by your early return: usually Saturday you would go out with Eric and then stay there till lunch time, to work the rest of the afternoon at the diner, having the night off for your small bartender job “… you are early”.

“It’s mom’s fault!” complained Eric, whenever he would do that he would resemble Ivar very much, making you almost want to raise your voice at the small boy, but you tried to calm yourself well aware that he didn’t know that you had done this to protect him “.. and there was a man like me at the park, today, grandma!”.

“Eric, go take a bath” you put more sternness than you should have in your tone, regretting it as the boy stumped his way to the bath and mother sent you a worried look, but you waited for the shower water to run before you answered your mother’s non-verbal question.

“I saw Ivar at the park, this morning” you mumbled and your mother immediately came closer to you, as you slowly slumped onto the sofa “… I had seen him yesterday, already, but I… thought it was a coincidence”.

You felt panic washing through you as you tried to breath deeper in order to regain some kind of control over your body, which was trembling horrendously.

“… sweetheart… did he see Eric?” your mother tried to bring some order to your chaotic mind as you tried to adjust yourself in a more comfortable position.

“Yes, he did”.

And then came the realization that Ivar now knew about your child.

“Baby of mine, don’t panic” he mumbled softly, as she tightened her grip around you, drawing relaxing circles onto your back “… he might not…”.

“Mom he is a cripple, but he isn’t stupid!” you shouted, immediately covering your mouth with an hand to stop the horrid sound from leaving your mouth, worried about Eric hearing you “… I am worried… what if he… comes here? What if…?”.

“He has no right to him” your mother spoke with confidence “… he broke up with you, he didn’t have the right to know there and he doesn’t now, don’t forget it”.

“He is rich, mom, he might… he might get Eric…” Gosh you couldn’t even think about the possibility of Ivar coming for Eric.

Although he had admitted, back then, he never wanted children, you had seen the look on his face as he had taken in Eric, realizing it was his.

You were worried.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, (Y/N)” she hugged you tighter as she tightened the hug “… it is your child, it isn’t his”.

“I can’t live without Eric” you uttered lightly as she softly cooed in your neck to help you calm yourself down “… I don’t know what I would do without him…”.

“… then it won’t happen” she gave you a comforting pat “… don’t think about things that haven’t happened yet”.

“Mom, I…” you didn’t know what to say anymore, the anxiety slowly burning through you “… I know, thank you”.

“Nothing to thank, sweetie, it’s my job” Eric appeared on the threshold of the kitchen, the towel almost making him trip on his own feet “… and our little man might need a bit of help”.

Helping Eric made you calm down a bit, as the little boy told you all about the fact that he had been able to get himself up the small castle stairs by himself all alone.

‘Coach Broadwick, said that I need big hands if I want to be a goalie!” he squealed as you brushed his hair together to dry them faster ‘… grandpa would have been proud, wouldn’t he?”.

“Of-super-course, sweetie!” you smiled at him softly, before you proceeded to smack his entire faces with kisses, as you helped him put his shirt, your mother called you both out for lunch “… let’s see what grandma made for us”.

As you turned, thinking that you had closed the Ivar’s debating, he muttered:

“Did you know the man that was like me, mom?”.

Although you had vowed to avoid lying to you child, you wished you could do it this time, with a light heart.

“He was an old friend” you muttered your tone so quiet that even Eric seemed to understand that it was better not to ask for more “… now we better hurry or grandma’s delicious lunch will be cold!”.

And Eric seemed to finally relax himself, forgetting all about that man.

And you hoped Ivar had done the same.

---

Ivar wasn’t able to simply forget the sight he had seen at the park.

You and a child.

His child.

Because it was either that or you had a fetish for fucking crippled men.

He didn’t know what to do, immediately choosing to leave the kid to their respective parents since he felt like he was slowly spiraling through what looked like’ memory lane’.

He excused his action with Ubbe, justifying it as Freydis needing a hand at the fertility clinic and his brother didn’t say anything simply asking whether he could do something more.

‘Let me know if I can do something for you’ had replied weakly Ubbe, not a true offer.

He couldn’t help him with what he needed.

But somebody else could.

He stumbled all the way to Heahmund’s apartment, an elegant loft which matched perfectly the personality of the distinguished lawyer.

Who was fucking a girl onto the table of his kitchen.

Ivar simply coughed to let his presence known and the girl immediately almost stumbled away from the kitchen, Heahmund’s cock sloppily leaving her, as she fell onto the ground, her knees weak for the amazing sex.

“What the fuck, Ivar?!” instead shouted Heahmund, annoyed and angered, it wasn’t the first time it had happened and he seemed almost used to it, retrieving his boxers from the ground “… it is fucking Saturday morning”.

“… I had the need of a professional consult” he simply replied, muttering lightly as Heahmund pushed his shirt onto the poor girl, barely able to calm herself, but glad for the shirt.

“Fucking come back Monday” the girl sneaked to the bedroom, probably to retrieve her clothes.

“It’s urgent”.

“How can it be so fucking urgent to disrupt my lovely Saturday morning?” replied immediately Heahmund, pushing a hand through his hair shaking them lightly.

“I have son” muttered Ivar and Heahmund promptly stopped what he was doing.

“… no, you fucking don’t, son of a bitch of a cripple” shouted back Heahmud, coming towards him in a threatening way “… you told you couldn’t get your cock up!”.

Once the company had gone pretty well and they had gone out to party: it turned out that Ivar was a sad drunk and had dunked onto Heahmund is entire family’s history.

“… I could… once” he couldn’t still believe it “… she was an old school sweetheart, it was my first time”.

And yours.

He remembered the way your face had morphed in pain and the blood that had coated the sheets of your bed, the way you had rushed to hide them, obliging Ivar to throw them.

‘Please my parents will fucking get angry with me if they found out I had sex!’.

How pissed had they been when they discovered you were carrying a child?

“What you are telling me… is that, my friend, who constantly complains he can’t get it up, once did?” and before Ivar could glare at him a skeptic look “… and had a fucking child? How fucking low are the chances to get pregnant on your first try?”.

“The gods love me” replied Ivar, a smug smirk on his face, although he didn’t understand why.

“No no, God fucking hates you” mumbled Heahmund as he sat onto his sofa, meanwhile Ivar moved onto the farthest armchair, checking it for any body fluids “… and how did you discover?”.

“I met her in a park, and she had her child with her” Heahmund was the one to send him a skeptical look this time “… he had braces, like me… I know he is my child Heahmund”.

“And you believe that because he had braces, he might be your son?”.

Ok, honestly that sounded creepy.

“… Heahmund, the timing is perfect, and the braces aren’t simply there for show, he fucking has osteogenesis imperfecta!”.

“Then why don’t you go to her house and talk with her about this?” shout back the lawyer, making Ivar still on the spot.

He had seen the way you had shrank away from him as he had taken in your son.

You had hidden him from Ivar, willingly.

He was sure.

Hence, he couldn’t just barge in your house and ask for explanations.

“… she hasn’t simply forgotten to notify me the fact that she was pregnant, Heahmund, she hid it willingly” and then he felt like he had to share what had happened in that diner, not so long ago “… I broke up with her a few weeks after we had… we did the deed… it wasn’t anything serious… my brothers had dared me to do it, since they said we were too clingy… and I… I would have cleared the entire thing the following day…”.

“That is a truly enlightening lesson on toxic masculinity believe me” humored him Heahmund, as he adjusted on the sofa “I’d say she has her reasons to make you stay away and I… don’t understand your need to meet her and the son… look at you: you are successful, you have a beautiful soon-to-be-wife and you are trying for a child”.

But he couldn’t just simply shake off his son’s eyes.

The joy in them, the way you had naturally acted with him that honestly had brought a smile onto Ivar’s face.

It wasn’t easy to simply forget about this.

“She works as a waitress” Heahmund gave him a simply skeptic nod as if to say ‘what about it’ “… what if she can’t take care of my child? What if she has money troubles?”.

“I’d avoid saying that to her face… women don’t take easily words like that”.

“I just want to try to make this right”.

Something in Ivar’s tone got the best of Heahmund, who huffed annoyed, but replied.

“… we take the law outside of it for a bit, or you are going to scare her… try to set up a meeting with her and talk about the child, make sure that you tell her you are doing this for the child’s wellness”.

“Ok” that sounded reasonable and he could check out the diner he had gone to yesterday to try to talk to you: at work you certainly wouldn’t have thrown a fit “… and this goes unsaid, but… don’t utter a word to Freydis”.

“… my lips are sealed” and then eyeing the almost dressed woman he was just fucking on his kitchen table a few minutes before, he muttered hungrily smiling at her “… but now I have business to attend to”.

---

Lunch with Eric and your mother had eased your nerves although you were still nervous about Ivar.

But working helped you ease the stress, keeping your mind busy, as you scurried around the tables, thinking that not only you were covering the afternoon shift, but you would be working till midnight at a nearby bar.

And then, you saw Ivar.

He was sat onto one of the table, and not only you almost stumbled onto one of your fellow coworkers, but you were sure that you were having hallucinations, till Ivar got up, catching your gaze onto him.

And then he moved towards you.

And you run your way out back in the kitchen, an amazing idea, had Will been there.

But the kitchen was empty, since Will had moved onto the bar stool to chat amicably with Mrs. Innbitt, a nice older woman who had lost her husband a few years ago and would try every receipt Will would give her.

You were just able to steal a small look at the barstool, because as you turned Ivar was upon you.

You let out a shocked screech, immediately shutting yourself with a hand onto your mouth, hoping you hadn’t alerted anybody, although you definitely felt uneasy.

Not only Ivar was closer to you than it was healthy, but it immediately brought you back to the child discourse.

“… now you are officially stalking me” you mumbled, as he backed away quickly, immediately understanding your discomfort.

“Maybe I am doing it because you hid my son for five years” he replied, shocking you enough that you were the one to take a step back, stumbling onto a small table with flour on it, your hands absorbing it, staining them white.

“It isn’t your son” it wasn’t a proper defense, but it was all you had in mind.

“… oh, then you have a fetish for cripples” this time it was Ivar who had raised his voice and you gave him a hateful glare, being the one to tell him to ‘kindly fucking lower his voice’.

“What the fuck, Ivar?” and now it was all rage “… you come back five years and expect everything to fall on its place?!”.

“… I would have expected you to tell me, at least, that you were pregnant with my child”.

Although he hadn’t screamed, his words hurt you even more, and you shrank in yourself, as your legs lightly trembled.

“… it isn’t your child” you were simply able to utter, as he simply shook his head.

“(Y/N) don’t treat me like an idiot” he stammered, and in his tone you could almost feel the Ivar you had known, begging desperately to be allowed to show his worth “… the kid… he is like me, I have seen myself enough times in the mirror to know what ‘osteogenesis’ is like”.

“He is my child, solely mine” you muttered, grabbing onto the table, as you dug your fingers in it “… you are simply a sperm donor”.

Ivar seemed taken aback and the young Ivar you had seen in his look quickly disappeared.

“… that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be part of his life, (Y/N)”.

You hated the way his name sounded in his mouth.

Because it sounded like the only way it was pronounced.

“No, I chose what is and isn’t part of his life” you shouted back, although you were well aware you must have sounded like a dictator.

Ivar seemed taken aback from your anger: you had never been like that with him, but you had certainly grown up so he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

He took a big breath to collect himself.

And then spoke.

“…I know, but I also know what it means for a child to grow up without a father” he spoke, each word slowed down to represent its meaning “… don’t let him become me”.

“That’s what I am doing and that is why I don’t want you near him”.

“Then I don’t think there are other solutions” he looked at you in the eyes “… I do think that I’ll have my lawyers know…”.

That was your worst nightmare.

Your eyes froze onto him and your hands moved on their own onto his arms, surprising you and him, as you immediately retreated, but you still saw Ivar’s nostalgy in his eyes.

“… please don’t”.

You wouldn’t have enough money to support yourself and Eric’s health, paying for a lawyer and battles for the custody of a child were long and tiring.

“… then give me a chance!” Ivar sounded sincere, almost desperate in his attempt to meet your son “… I am not asking for him to become my son, just… I want to know him”.

Something broke inside of you.

But you couldn’t surrender so quickly.

“… what made you change your mind?” you asked him, bringing yourself to look at him in the eyes, in order for him not to lie to your face “… about children… you didn’t want to have them, back then…”.

“I…” he seemed not to know it he, himself “… me and my fiancée are trying for a child…”.

“He won’t be your surrogate child or a training dummie” you immediately spoke out, your tone stern but not broken “… he is a child, and if you want him to be… if you want to…”.

“I know this isn’t easy to accept” his tone was strangely soothing “… but I don’t mean to hurt him”.

“… you better” you took a deep breath, getting away from the table “… I am thinking about this… I’ll give you an answer before next Saturday”.

He seemed baffled by the fact that you were attempting to take time but allowed you with a small nod.

“… I’ll leave you my number” he simply mumbled, as you moved out of the kitchen.

Dread was setting on your stomach in that moment, but strangely you stole one last look at Ivar who was searching his card in his wallet, being able to stare at him without him noticing.

He had certainly changed in all the ways that heightened his figure, bringing him to gain muscles, but his expression had remained the same shadowed and grumpy, in a way that got your heart to gently shudder at that sight.

But you immediately turned as Ivar found the card and moved towards you, limping in that way that he hated but to you it was as familiar as if a day hadn’t passed since you had first met him.

And fell in love with him.

“I’ll call you” you mumbled, taking the card and he tried to smile at you, but worry still shone on his face, and although he hadn’t a reason to want your child to be also his, he… seemed to want it…

… desperately.

“I hope you do” he mumbled, before walking away and turning one last time, effectively surprising “… can I… can I at least know his name?”.

“Eric” you should have avoided saying it, not wanting Ivar to find him, God only knew what that cunning shit could do.

But he simply seemed out of his wits, amazed by the name.

“It’s a good name”.

---

You had named your child Eric, a typical Norse name, meaning ‘ever ruler’.

It couldn’t simply be a coincidence.

It meant something.

You still had somehow a respect for Ivar in naming the child that way, which could show that, although you had been truly cold-hearted with him, you still… latched onto him.

As he did with you.

The memories and the desire to be closer intensifying as the memory of your child came to replay in his mind.

Eric had his eyes, but he had your smile, open and careless, in a way that made him carefree and frail.

He wondered whether he wouldn’t fall asleep at night because his legs hurt too much.

He certainly had back then.

If his braces were comfortable enough.

If you kissed him on the forehead as Aslaugh always did with him.

If being a parent meant worrying, he certainly was on the right way.

He fell onto the bed, completely exhausted, as he tried to kick off his unlaced boots, a message on his phone shining to show a message from Heahmund.

‘How did it go, baby daddy?’.

He was barely able to unlock his phone before he felt the telltale rummaging of keys against metal signaling that Freydis had come home and he made sure to lock his phone, pushing it into the first drawer of his bedside table, as he adjusted onto the bed, stretching himself and pushing the braces off the bed, knowing it pissed off Freydis to find them there.

“I am home!” she giggled gently and any trouble he might be having was washed away from his mind, as he tried to reign himself away from the memory of Eric and (Y/N).

“I am glad you are” he mumbled softly, as she dropped her bags in the kitchen, got a small drink from the orange juice cardboard, as she always did after the long session of hormones and other therapies “… I am in the bedroom”.

She immediately joined him, her heeled shoes already off, as she discarded her coat and jacket, revealing an elegant white blouse, showing her small curves, matched perfectly with a black skirt, the image of the elegant businesswoman.

And although she was irresistible, his mind went back to you in a comfortable hoodie and worn out sneakers.

Which wasn’t good.

“… how did your day go?” she asked, as he moved onto the bed, a bit far away from him to get off her stockings.

“Ahem…” ‘I have solely discovered that my high school sweetheart has had a child with me’ “…it was nice… what about you?”.

He tried to shift the attention, grateful that the hormonal cures made her tired and sleepy.

“… as always tiring” she mumbled, moving lightly towards him, a few buttons of her blouse coming undone in a naïve provocation “… but I am glad, the doctors are saying that it’s improving!”.

“Oh, that is nice” he says without thinking too much about it “… have they told you something about me?”.

He grimaced when Freydis nodded her head, but was immediately comforted as she grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly.

“… the usual hour, next week” she mumbled gently, rubbing her thumb onto the back of his hand, in a gesture that used to be soothingly alluring for him, but now he couldn’t help but feeling like she was rubbing piece of coarse paper against it “… I know it isn’t easy for you, but… I appreciate it Ivar, you are working for our future”.

He had never wanted to have children till Freydis had come in the picture.

He still didn’t know why he wanted them maybe it was the desperate need for something to leave behind and Freydis’ love for them.

Their relationship had definitely moved faster than it was conventionally approved, but he hadn’t minded it.

He had never had somebody who had cared for him, so when Freydis had come in the picture, so gentle and sweet, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from falling in love with her, to the point that she could ask for the moon and he would have given it to her.

He hadn’t been in love like this with you, it wasn’t this intense and maddening, it had been low and timid, in the shy way all high school crushes were born.

But it still haunted him to these days.

“… Ivar” called him Freydis and he immediately turned to her, with a questioning look “… you haven’t heard anything I said, have you?”.

“I am sorry, I just have a bit of… I am just tired”.

“So, am I” shot back gently Freydis, stirring herself so that she could make her body come closer to him, pushing her hand into his “… let’s just go to bed, and talk about all of this tomorrow”.

He nodded, adjusting himself on his side.

“Goodnight, love”.

He couldn’t help but feel more relaxed because of this, but the last image that laid in front of him was Eric grabbing your hand, as you ran away from him.

“Goodnight, Ivar”.

He wondered, at last, if you had wished Eric ‘goodnight’.

---

The entire week had been pretty tough on you.

But what was worse was the fact that Eric had realized your bad mood pretty quickly, even going as far as asking you on Sunday, before leaving for your job, if you were angry with him.

‘No no, sweetie’ you had tucked his hair behind his ears, gently kissing his forehead ‘… I am just a bit busy with some things’.

‘… need my help?’ had asked the little boy, making you smile sadly at him.

‘You already give me too much help, sweetie, just think about your soccer match!’ you had then ruffled his hair but sent a meaningful look at his mother.

Please don’t let him know of everything that has been going on.

You either found out a way to pay your lawyer or you would have to let Ivar see your child.

You hadn’t met him in five years, so you didn’t trust him, in the slightest.

Your mother, although she would have supported any decision you would have taken, insisted that you tried to mend the relationship with Ivar, even more after she had heard about his suggestion of helping you financially.

‘Mom I am not going to let him control me with money! He can’t buy his son back from me!’.

You had almost felt insulted by her proposal.

‘… but (Y/N) think about this attentively: he might help us with Eric’s cures, don’t do it for him but do it for your child’.

‘I can take care of my child’ you had retorted, and your mother had eventually dropped the argument.

Now it was Wednesday night, you had checked Eric’s homework and were getting ready for your first trial at the art gallery, worrying lightly due to your mother’s absence.

She had promised you she would take care of Eric, meanwhile you were out.

It was strange she still wasn’t back there, and when it came to an hour before the entire thing you tried calling her, worried both about work and her as Eric finished his dinner, watching the latest Avenger movie.

You hadn’t been able to get in contact with your mother till fifteen minutes had passed, and when she had answered you the situation had worsened.

‘(Y/N)… I was at the theatre, what are you calling me for?’.

“Mom you should have… you were supposed to be babysitting Eric, meanwhile I was on the trial thing at the gallery!” you remembered her, trying to understand what to do, since your mother was clearly unavailable for the evening.

You tried to remember the name of the babysitters you liked, immediately running their numbers in your memory

“… (Y/N) no you didn’t tell me, I am sure…” you huffed out loudly “… don’t huff at me young lady! It wasn’t written in the timetable!”.

And to your horror, as you moved to check, you found out you hadn’t written it, probably for the fact you were too taken by your inner turmoil and indecision about Ivar.

“… I am coming back immediately, but it’ll take me an hour, sweetie, I have to wait for Marissa!”.

You had thought, as you rushed because it was missing simply half an hour to your interview, it would be simple.

But it wasn’t… in the slightest.

Half of the babysitters weren’t available, and the other ones didn’t babysit anymore.

You didn’t trust your neighbors enough to put Eric in their hands, but the list was running short and you would be running late.

This honestly terrified you extremely aware that the job might be an amazing offer to help you take less works and stay more with Eric earning better, but you couldn’t just leave Eric alone.

The thing was starting to become low key nerve-wrecking for you, because although you loved your role as a mother, you had loved the thought of going back into a place where you wouldn’t be serving plates and calming drunkards.

You couldn’t believe that you were ruining completely that chance for you.

Then your phone buzzed again, an unknown number and you answered thinking that maybe it was one of the babysitters’ friends.

But as you picked up the call you were surprised.

“Hello, (Y/N)” Ivar’s voice was pretty hoarse through the phone “… your mother has called me”.

You almost cursed, stopping yourself a you realized that Eric was in the room.

“… what do you want, Ivar? It isn’t Sunday yet!”.

“Your mother talked about you having need of a babysitter” he ignored your indignant tone.

“No no, don’t worry I solved it” you replied, almost slamming the ‘end call’ button.

“(Y/N) I can come, I am nearby, I don’t have a trouble…”.

“Ivar this isn’t… this isn’t…” Gosh you didn’t know what to say.

Certainly, you were still wary about the thought of actually letting your son meet up Ivar, but it was a solution to a problem that was tormenting your body, enough to make you tremble.

“This isn’t an official meet up, you can give me every rule you want, I can also just stay silent for the entire night, I just…” and he took a deep breath, it was evident that he was both hopeful and stubborn and there was a desperation in his voice that froze you “… I just want to help you”.

You thought about it: you either gave up the chance for which you had been working so hard and which wouldn’t come back or you allowed the father of your child to see him, which was an alternative that scared you in a way that was completely irrational.

“I…” you didn’t know, you didn’t know what to do, but then took a small look at Eric, trying ‘discreetly’ to listen onto your conversation, and as you met those beautiful blue eyes… you were just frozen on the spot, and answered with a lower tone “… you can come, but you are not his father, you a friend of mine”.

“Thank you, (Y/N)” his tone was almost moved, and you tried to stop yourself from matching his.

“My mother will come in an hour, all you have to do is check that Eric take his medicines and gets in bed, without breaking any bones”.

“I know the drill, believe me” his voice was more joyful than sarcastic which was strange “… I am going to take care of him”.

“You better” you mumbled biting on your tongue “… this is your chance to prove me that you are worthy to be part of my child’s life, you better not fuck it up”.

---

As he had arrived you were in a black attire, a small little back outfit on you and although he was well aware it wasn’t as expensive as the ones Freydis wore, it certainly did the best it could for your figure.

He had tried his best not to stare at you, meanwhile you explained him the rules: no sugar, no movies, Eric just had to take his medicines and be in bed, he could play a bit and maybe read to develop his abilities, but he needed to be in bed for when your mother came back.

Eric, for the entire time, had remained in his room, although the door was open and Ivar had tried to take a few looks at the child, trying to see if his memory remembered him properly.

‘… Ivar I am trusting you with the most precious thing in my life, please… don’t…’.

‘I am not an idiot, (Y/N), you should know it better than anyone’ the sharpness of his tone had made you shudder lightly but you had hidden it, simply smirking at him one last way, calling Eric over, and kneeling at his side.

‘Sweetie, mommy is going to work tonight but grannie will soon be back, in the meanwhile you’ll stay with my friend, Ivar, the one from the park’ you explained to him gently, as you adjusted his cute hoodie.

‘The one like me?’ wondered aloud the boy, immediately moving to look at Ivar’s legs and crutches ‘… hi I am Eric’.

And he had shot out his hand to Ivar, leaving him confused, meanwhile you sent him a small nod, as if to allow him that grip.

‘Ivar’ he muttered, although he tried to brighten his tone with a small smile, but Eric didn’t seem to notice it, instead checking out his braces ‘… I like your braces, buddy’.

‘Ohhh, mommy got them solely for me!’ he explained enthusiastically, before he shout out a small leg to show him that at the end there were some stickers of the Avengers, meanwhile and… rather sarcastically a few of ‘The Flash’ ‘They are cool, aren’t they?’.

‘Super-duper’ he spoke, before shooting a reassuring look at (Y/N) ‘I think that we will be alright, you can go’.

‘Mommy is going to miss you’ you simply replied, not looking at Ivar and kissing the small man, who immediately washed away the kiss, faking of being ashamed.

At least him and the little man had something similar.

“Please don’t…” you spoke, one last time grabbing your coat.

“I won’t, now go and get that job”.

The smile you had was the gentlest he had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but stare at it even as you closed the door behind you, shooting one last look at Eric.

He was brought back from his trance by a light grip onto his hand, Eric.

“Want to play Avengers with me?”.

And for a moment he was thankful that Hvitserk had brought him along to see that movie.

They didn’t spend much time discussing any plot, the small boy playing on his own and following around Ivar’s bad guy, and he immediately stopped as Ivar asked him whether he had a favorite superhero.

“It’s Thor!” he replied, immediately, grabbing the blond-haired hero “… he is super cool, and mom has told me all about him! The my… myth…mythlogy!”

“Mythology?” he replied, softly and the boy nodded “… has she told you about the time he had to dress up as a woman to get back his hammer?”.

Apparently no, with the way he shook his head immediately, lighting up interested.

The rest of the time passed with him telling his child stories, even when your mother walked in home and smirked at Ivar, although her eyes showed that she hadn’t forgotten the heartbreak he had made you go through.

‘Can you handle Eric for a bit longer? I am going to use the bathroom and then start getting him ready’ he looked at Eric who was pleading him with his eyes for another story.

‘I think I can’.

He then moved away as your mother came back, tucking in Eric and checking his bones and if he had taken the medicines and then wished ‘goodnight’ to him softly blowing a soft smile on his forehead.

He almost wished he could have done the same.

He hadn’t spent so much time with the boy, but he couldn’t help but feel attached to him already.

He had been worried to find somebody like him as a child, spoiled and grumpy, but Eric was an happy child, no matter his legs, he was active and sweet, curious enough to show that he was smart, but he wasn’t as cunning as him.

He believed that you had done an amazing good job, raising up the child.

Your mother came back, with a small smirk on her face.

“He says he wants to say ‘goodbye’ to you”.

And like that he slipped inside of the room of his son, taking a better look at it, realizing that it was a small and pretty crowded but tidy, and he didn’t know whether it was you who kept in order for the boy, himself.

But Eric soon caught his eyes again.

“… hey, Ivar!” he turned to him, stumbling closer to the bed “… your stories are even better than mom’s!”.

“I know, I know” he winked at him jokingly “… but don’t tell her, if I know one thing about your mother it is that she hates losing”.

“She does!” shouted back Eric, giggling lightly, as you always did when you heard something funny.

He wondered if you still did.

“Well I am glad you liked my stories! I hope to come over again to tell you more!” he replied, tentatively hoping that Eric speaking with his mother might convince her, although… he knew you could be even more stubborn than him.

“… I’ll tell her! And maybe we can watch ‘The Flash’ together! I can show you why I like him so so much”.

He honestly hated superheroes but due to the huge smirk on his son’s face he couldn’t stop himself from agreeing, and maybe… just maybe he would have finally enjoyed those movies.

“Of course, kiddo!” he promised, even swearing with the pinky promise, a small smirk on his own face, and the sudden realization of how small his son’s hand was instead of his, in a way that made him almost shiver at his frailty.

And he made to turn around, definitely nervous about how and what he should do next.

He knew that you wouldn’t have liked if he tried to say the things that were going around in his head in that moment, and although he knew it was a tough battle, he respected the boundaries you put around yourself.

“… Ivar!” Eric called him out one last time, his gaze focused onto his legs, in a way that showed him immediately the theme of the talk they were going to have “… do they also hurt you very much?”.

He stopped, the sunny boy he had met a few moments disappeared in a more introvert one, almost ashamed of his question, and Ivar couldn’t help but feel like that was his part, that was his legacy to him.

He had also been a scared little boy wondering what would be happening to him, if it was normal, finding a reason behind his pain.

“Yes, they still do” he couldn’t lie to his face like that “… but… you get used to it, and there are some things that can be useful for the pain…”.

“Mom always says that I am extraordinary for… the pain… like I am ever better than Flash!” he mumbled, a smile making its way on his face “… you are pretty cool too, Ivar”.

Although he hated all those stupid encouragement speeches, the sincerity in his son’s voice, shook him.

“… thank you, kiddo” and he then moved away, finding you in the hallways, trying to discard the painful heels you were wearing in a way that brought his heart back at your first prom together and how you had discarded the uncomfortable shoes, when you had hidden away from everybody in the porch of his house, bunching up the dress, to be more comfortable.

“Oh… you are back” he couldn’t help but feel stupid, but you didn’t give it too much thought, instead checking for Eric’s room, walking past him without giving him a second glance.

Eric faked of being asleep, but you still caught him, a small smirk onto your face, and you moved inside, tucking him better, as you pushed his braces away so that he wouldn’t trip over them when he would wake up tomorrow.

All the gestures of an attentive mother.

He couldn’t help but be a bit amazed, and as you finished the entire trip to Eric’s room.

You closed the door behind you, as he felt your mother doing the same, although he wouldn’t be surprised to know that she was listening with her ear onto the door.

“He seemed pretty happy” you muttered, clutching yourself tighter in your jacket.

“I hope your interview went well” he replied, a bit embarrassed suddenly.

“I’ll know in a few days” your voice didn’t let go anything in your tone, but he couldn’t help but feel like the night had gone well, no matter your worry.

“When will I know if…” ‘if I am allowed to see my son again?’.

“In a few days” your impassible tone broke a bit, letting some emotion pass “… thank you for coming”.

“He is my child, that’s the least I could do” he shot back, immediately “… even if you don’t want to accept it”.

Like that you were again still and rigid with him, going to the door to open it for him, in an obvious sign that he should go.

“… goodnight, Ivar”.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)”.

And now all he had to was hope he had done a good impression.

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