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whalesforhands · 11 months

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singe the tales i (satosugu x reader)

adventuring is never what it seemed to be, not when your companions are the loopy sort.

happy october! note that there will be VERY HEAVY references/inspirations from baldur’s gate 3/terraria, some anime (goblin slayer, grimgar of fantasy and ash) throughout this story, haha

warnings: fantasy au, slightly suggestive, depictions and a bit graphic descriptions of gore

masterlist next

gojo - a nobleman sorcerer from a lineage of great honour and power. an outstanding, exceptionally strong one who preceded even the most gifted of his ancestors. unafraid to get up close and personal with enemies and allies alike despite his role in the party, truly void of any fear. you wonder if he notices all the little stolen glances from you at that pretty face of his whenever he unties his bandages…

geto - summoner of sorts… a druid? necromancer? dragon— tamer? just what is he? and how is he summoning these things?regardless, all beasts, exotic creatures and even humans alike flock to him, appearing with a snap of his fingers. sly, charming and an overall magnet for trouble that begets your curiosity.

ieiri - a mysterious sorceress who seems to be lacking in terms of raw power. could you even call her a sorceress at this rate…? despite the lack of magical attacks, her healing powers and knowledge of medicine are undeniable, despite being no cleric. why does she— have such a strange allure? your eyes can’t help but stray to her whenever she enters the guild.

you - the guild receptionist who does their best. with this specific outpost quite frankly being in the middle of nowhere, you were trained in minor restoration spells, a few of the more unconventional magic tricks, and have exceptional prowess in protection spells.

——

“Little receptionist!!!” The bustling of the small guild hall rings a pleasant chirp through your ears, yet you’re still able to pick up the overly excited greetings to you.

“Oh, welcome ba-CK!” You choke when you catch a whiff of the spine-crawling odour, disgust and distaste heavy on your tongue. Rotting flesh and spoiled milk, the scent trailed heavily into the small guild hall, surrounding beginner adventurers unable to handle it, hands slapped over their mouths as they ran out, fighting the urge to throw up.

Slathered in blood and dripping with the stench of decaying entrails, the trio strolled in. Shoko is looking a little less for wear, face deadpan and quite frankly offended as she watched the already empty guild practically become void of people. Remnants of dried blood, bits of organs sticking to her cloak, her hood over her head to hide the shame of looking like this.

Satoru looks far more… Put together, if you could call it that. Not clean, not an inch at all. His stark white hair has been stained with coagulated bits of red, his face having a streak of dried blood just under one of his eyes, gloves dripping a fresher red as it gripped onto the sack he was holding onto. His armor was… practically non-existent, hanging on by a thread with his exposed undershirt revealed the torn up cloth, the lack of cuts despite the tears certainly of Shoko’s magic.

He practically perks up, his excited demeanor growing even more restless when he realizes he had correctly guessed that it was in fact you manning the front desk, nearly tripping over himself to reach you as he left his teammates behind.

“One gnoll packlord head; delivered!” He’s sending you a two-fingered salute, the bloodied sack starting to seep onto the counter as viscous blood made its presence known, bag tied crudely to outline the beheaded canine. His face ushered a cute blush, awaiting your praise as he watched your lovely face, awaiting that pretty smile and fond eyes that upturn at the sight of—

“And we managed to wipe out the entirety of the pack.” Suguru’s quiet voice draws your attention towards him, noticing his presence as he appears suddenly, his hair in slight disarray from his usual bun, sticky blood on his worn out, once pristine clothing which had been torn through to reveal disintegrating chainmail underneath. “I hope we managed to do it to the quest’s details.”

(And hopefully, to yours as well. Are you happy they managed to help get rid of knolls for you, on a quest you personally offered them? Gods, it felt amazing to be someone you relied on.)

“I-I appreciate your timely completion of my quest, but—“ You nearly want to hurl at the mere smell as the last of the few adventurers ran off, desperate to escape this overwhelming stench as your professionalism fought to surface. “Please wash up now…!”

(“So? So?! Do you like it’s head? I cut it off myself!” If Gojo Satoru had a tail, it’d be wagging uncontrollably in front of you. His sparkling eyes from behind those bandages of his can almost be seen from how excited he was.

He could’ve just cut off one of its ears as proof… But they really went beyond what was needed to bring you this decapitated head.

“Thank you.” The smile on your face is absolutely radiant as you look towards the three, the twitch of your nose and the scrunch of your face held back through pure dedication. “I really—“ The air tastes absolutely putrid. “Cannot thank you all enough!”)

——

“Help a girl out, won’t you?” Shoko twirls a strand of her hair with dismissive motions, the tobacco pipe held between her fingers waiting to be set alight as she eyes you, concentrating on the way your hair swayed with every light movement.

“Of course, Miss Ieiri. But I really am not a big fan of you smoking…” She’s leaning in close, the soft fragrance of her bergamot scented wash wafting near just as your fingertip alights with a small flame, a small pout on her lips when you pull away, eyes returning back to your work as she leaned over the counter. “It’s bad for your health.”

“It’s only for a little while.” Her cheeks puff slightly, like a child getting lectured. Don’t be too disappointed in me.”

Her playful tone causes your lips to quirk up in fondness. “Of course not, Miss Ieiri. But please do put it out after a while.” You suppose she deserves it, after her tough mission.

“Ieiri this, Ieiri that… Have you taken a liking to my last name, perhaps?” She ends with chuckle as you pause in your administrations, looking up from the tangerine you were peeling for her.

“It is quite a pretty last name, Miss Ieiri. However, it is proper protocol to maintain my professionalism, after all.” A practiced saccharine smile and a polite tone. Just part of the job to you, or is it?

(You wouldn’t exactly be peeling fruits for just any adventurer, right?)

She laughs at your overtly rehearsed, stiff tone. “Lighten up a little. I’ve already told you.” A smile is upon her face as she takes another breath from the pipe, the smoke swirling about her in an alluring whiff. “Shoko is perfectly fine.”

“Well then—“ Your bashful face is a surprise, a very welcome one to her as your eyes shift about nervously, the creeps of a hot blush upon your cheeks, a hand placed upon your face as if to slow the heat of embarrassment. “If you don’t mind, Sho—“

It’s hard to remember, that in this small guild, where hardly any adventurers drop by, calls for a lack of traffic even by your own coworkers who inadvertently take too long of a break.

“Ahhhh! (name)!” The embarrassed cry of one of them doesn’t escape you with the loud whine reverberating throughout the wooden halls. “How could you not tell me the Gojo Satoru was back?!” The older elf cried, skin burning up as she hurriedly fixed her uniform, adjusting her beret before her hands latched onto your shoulders, shaking you about as you catch the falling fruit before it gets pummeled onto the ground.

“Hi, Miss Ieiri!” Her greeting to the girl is short-lived as she moves to hold both of her hands in yours, frazzled gaze speeding to meet your own. “(name), I’m begging you!”

“Please, please!! Take over my shift! I want to go see him!” She’s hurriedly, and very suddenly dabbing on a red far too mature for her complexion, dabbing powder onto her skin as she fixes herself, cosmetic products strewn all over your once near desk, her hands combing through her locks as Shoko puts out her pipe.

“Sylrel, you look perfectly gorgeous as always.” You’re shaking your head as you take in the sight of the pretty elven maiden, patting down the beret on her head and adjusting her brooch. “I’m sure he would think so too.”

“But he doesn’t!” She’s whining as Shoko opens her mouth, letting you plop a slice of the sweet fruit in as she chews delightedly.

“Do me another favour and find him, pleaseeeeee?!”

(“So do I take your shift first or—“

“Find him, please! Or— Wait, stall him! I can’t have him find me whilst I look like this!”

Shoko misses the tangerine slice you were about to feed her when you pull away to watch your coworker, a pout on her lips as a small glare is directed towards you. As if awaiting your attention to be directed back to her.

“Oh, sorry Shoko.” You hurriedly press the fruit back against her lips. “Just… How do I even stall him…?”

(You’re finally using her name. She’s satisfied.)

Shoko doesn’t even hesitate to answer through her chews. “All you have to do is talk to him, really.” Her elbow is propped up onto the counter as she holds her chin, a smirk on her lips as she licked up the remnants of the sweet fruit.

“I’m serious.”)

——

“Oh, Mister Geto.” You greet the half-naked sorcerer, fresh out of the shower as a smaller towel is sat upon his head, long hair hanging over his shoulders as your eyes start to falter at the sight of the extremely attractive man before you out of politeness, dressed down in clothing far more relaxed to suit his mood, his pants hanging low on his hips. His arm cages you in further into the corner as you’re trapped between the wall and his frame.

(You didn’t expect to be in this situation at all. But… He is just Geto Suguru, the humble gentleman of an adventurer.)

“Did you enjoy your shower?” Your smile is as polite as ever, sweet and oh, so clueless. Even daringly helping to pat the towel down onto the wet locks of his hair.

It makes him kind of mad, really.

“You know…” He trails off, large hand coming up to tuck a strand of your hair back, his palm brushing against the soft skin of your face, watching as you blink up at him in confusion, tilting your head into his hand and letting him hold your face.

He clicks his tongue.

“It’s good that you’re so clueless at times.” But it gets on his nerves. So frustratingly, adorably hard to resist. Perhaps you need a lesson?

He leans down to your ear, lightly blowing to tease you as he watches you squirm, your body lightly jumping as your hand hurriedly rushes up to cup your ear. Just what is he doing?

You hear him chuckle, a pat descending onto your head and displacing your beret as you allow him to do so.

“It’s cute.” You’re cute.

“Thank… you?” You’re still smiling as you try to put your thoughts together. Was there a bug by your ear? Lint in your hair? Oh, whatever. “Would you mind having dinner together with the rest of your party?”

His chuckle is hearty. “And when have I ever turned down an offer from a beautiful being such as yourself?” He’s letting your warmth linger on his skin before he begrudgingly forces himself to pull away, watching as your hands slowly reached up to fix his hair, tucking wet strands away to reveal his face as you stare head on into his eyes.

“I’m happy to hear that, then.”

And he’s happy to see that smile on your face.

(“Ah, Sylrel was looking for Mister Gojo. Where is he? Still showering?” Just as he opens his mouth to answer you, a shout sounds out from the showers.

“SU. GU. RU!” Angry yells akin to a chihuahua’s bark echo from the ajar door. “I’M USING YOUR SOAP!”)

masterlist next

Notes:

A sorcerer differs from a wizard. A sorcerer is someone whose affinity for magic is innate, whilst wizards study magic in order to wield it, much like a learned skill.

Geto and Gojo are nowhere near in a romantic relationship together. (Yet.) Their relationship is described as a ‘love-hate rivalry’ more than anything. Their inability to cooperate together has costed them several quests.

Your feelings towards the SSS trio? You care about them. They helped you plenty of times ever since you got this job recently. You really appreciate it.

Sylrel. A high elf that adopted you and raised you as her own. Basically the closest thing you have to a mother figure.

*Gnolls. Born from the gluttony of bloated hyenas feasting on human remains, emerging from their four-legged cages of flesh and lesser being, bursting out as a human-hyena hybrid that walks on two legs all whilst maintaining low intelligence, predominantly canine features and a never ending hunger.

nvy’s aftertalk:

hi guys i’m addicted to baldur’s gate 3 haha. i don’t think i can ever write modern aus properly or at all after playing that game. writing this made me realize how much of a stupid geek i am

do u like this series 👉👈, if u don’t it’s fine (i will cry if u don’t)

#jjk x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #ieiri shoko x reader #stt au #whalewrites #geto x reader x gojo #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen

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s1mpadd1ct · 1 year

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Shang Tsung | Relationship Headcanons | What is he like? | What does he do?

He 100% keeps a picture of you in his work desk at all times, even when Princess Mileena is in for her Tarkat treatment, it’s there. It keeps him motivated to keep working at his best knowing that even though you aren’t there, a memory of you is.

Unlike what people think about him, he isn’t completely evil. People who look from the outside in (Such as Liu Kang) believe that he abuses you both mentally and physically, he forces you at his side, and has you under some sort of obedience spell, but that isn’t true. You see a side of him that no one ever has before. He allows himself to be vulnerable with you, and shows you every part of himself.

Whenever you sit in a chair in his study, or sit anywhere near him, he will randomly just stop whatever he is doing to stand from his chair and make his way over to you, but it isn’t anything direly important to his study of Tarkat, or his elixirs, but simply to hold your face in his hands, cradling it like a prized jewel he collected in the most divine of places.

He tends to just stare at you, nothing is wrong, he’s only thinking to himself, about you. “Is there something wrong, my love?” “Absolutely not, beautiful. Just admiring the outstanding view.”

Sometimes he asks you to paint his nails, growing up in poverty, he could not afford such pleasures, so now that he can have those little things, with you no less, he adores having you paint his nails or put eyeliner on him for fun.

Hates raspberries for some reason. Absolutely resent them. Will go out of his way to not consume them. Why? He won’t say.

When he has company over for a meeting (Ex. Ermac, Quan Chi, Bi-Han…), IF they say something that intrigues you, he will allow them to stay longer for you and his guest to ramble about said topic, he usually is an in-n-out business man, but whatever makes you happy.

He’ll occasionally read you a book, he’d sit and read you a story about demons, monsters, ancient creatures and myths that were popular when he was a child. “I can’t believe these used to terrify me, can you?” He’d ask. Yet, you might be afraid like his childhood self, or you would nod in agreement and laugh with him.

Shang denies it, but he tends to talk about his mother a lot. Mostly positive, but he remembers the things she had to do just to make sure that he had something to eat everyday, or something to wear when out to get seasonings for what little they could buy for dinner that night. He misses her dearly, and wonders if she would be proud of him if she were alive to see him now.

He is a perfectionist at heart, he freaks out when his potion bottles aren't in color coded order or aren’t in ordered bottle size from smallest to largest. He even has you assist him in making sure that the bottle sizes or colors are in perfect order like he wants.

Shang loves to make you clothes to wear, not specifically for him, per say, but when you do wear the dresses/clothes that he makes for you, it sends him in an infatuated spiral.

Slow dance central, expect for him to grab you out of nowhere and begin to slow dance with you. It calms his nerves to have your body flush against his in such a romantic way, this has become one of the most common ways to ease his mind after such a long day of work and progress. "I love you."

Decided to finally start writing again, don't know if it is something I'll do more but only time will tell...

#shang tsung #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat 1 2023 #mortal kombat #mk1 #Shang Tsung is a softie

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frankencanon · 1 year

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Jujutsu Kaisen × Hero Academia Crossover AU where the Jujutsu Sorcerer Community is actually a Vigilante Serial Killer Cult

Okay, bear with me for a second here—

Consider: a sort of universe-fusion where JJK takes place in the BNHA universe, but...! Curses are not real. I repeat, curses do not exist.

The Sorcerer community is a cult made up of people who believe that Villains with mutant quirks are Curses, while the more anthropomorphic Villains are Curse Users.

They believe that destroying (i.e. killing) Curses exorcises them, and that Curse Users deserve the same fate. They believe that doing so is their civic duty as Jujutsu Sorcerers, and they groom their children to do the same.

Their community is highly secretive (supposedly because the public would not understand or be able to handle the "truth" of curses) and their children are kept cut-off from society as they're growing up, until they're old enough to attend Jujutsu Tech and start going on "missions" of their own to "exorcise" "curses".

A fanfic based in this AU would ideally start shortly before the protagonist is meant to attend Jujutsu High, when there is a major police bust and most of the cult are finally put under arrest for their crimes (serial murder, mainly).

The adult cult members would be put under arrest, while the younger ones will be evaluated based on whether they had "exorcised" anyone yet, and for the ones who haven't — they would be relocated and rehabilitated, and placed in foster care and sent to ordinary high schools that are willing to take them in.

For example: A raid is launched on Jujutsu Tech and the compounds of the main clans — all at the same time, so that no one has the chance to warn anyone else or escape.

Eraserhead and Tsukauchi are involved in the raid on the Gojō compound specifically, and while they're putting everyone under arrest a child — about fourteen or fifteen years old — suddenly appears out of nowhere.

He has white hair and eyes like the sky and is wearing a matching yukata. He is also eerily calm considering Aizawa is currently kneeling on the back of one of his family members, who is cuffed and spitting.

When the man on the ground sees him he orders the child to free him and "exorcise the curse users". The child blinks back, before turning to Aizawa and Tsukauchi to ask, "What are you doing?"

They (awkwardly) explain that the (adult) clan members are under arrest for serial murder, etc.

The kid asks what will happen to him. They explain that as he is an innocent child he will be placed with a foster parent, rehabilitated, and admitted to an eligible high school come fall.

The kid... smiles. Says, "OK!"

...He seems weirdly excited...?

(They don't know this yet, but little Gojō Satoru is positively ecstatic. He's gonna be free from his overbearing relatives?! He's gonna get to go to an ordinary high school and have a real high school experience with sports festivals and fairs and clubs?! He's gonna be able to do practically whatever he wants — have fun and eat sweets and goof off?! This is the best day of his life!)

(Gojō doesn't know this yet, but when Nedzu hears about him and his abilities an offer is going to be put forth for Gojō to attend UA...

If he passes the Hero Entrance Exam — which, of course he will — he will be admitted into the Hero Course as a first-year alongside students such as Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shōto, and Bakugō Katsuki.)

Other characters this could work with:

Young Fushiguro Megumi, abandoned by Toji. Perhaps he was just recently sold to taken in by the Zen'in Clan right before they got raided.

Quirkless Zen'in Maki, neglected by her so-called "family" but not about to let that stop her from getting stronger than any of them.

Itadori Yuuji, owner of a mild strength enhancement quirk, is victimized by a powerful pseudo-immortality quirk and gets sort of "possessed" after which the Sorcerers find him and forcefully induct him into the cult, telling him that he will eventually have to be executed... Until of course the police and heroes finally show up to arrest all of them.

A jaded Getou Suguru (shortly before he has his mental breakdown and massacres a village) is tired of risking his life and the lives of his friends killing exorcising Curses and Curse Users, when suddenly the school is raided and everyone put under arrest for serial murder — and goddammit, he didn't even want to do this shit anyway! Not anymore!

He's taken in by the Pro Heroes after they discover how he was lured into the cult as a kid and they work diligently to de-program him, giving him extensive therapy for all the shit he went through—and by god, he is so much happier now.

Etc, etc. ♡

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gnwwkks2 · 1 year

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A Sweet Coincidence (Idol!Gunwook x F!Reader) Chapter 1: Chocolate Drinks and Art

word count: 1k

What snapped you out of your small daze was the small chime of the bell connected to the café door. Although you paid no attention to whomever walked in. The sketch you were working on was much more important. Cafes were always your go to place when you needed to either work on your university projects and or work, but also where you go to find peace and comfort. Sure your small and cozy apartment could also do the trick, but the small muffled chit-chat amongst other customers along with the sweet aromas of confectionaries mixed with coffee, just made you feel calm. What you usually ordered was a small plate of strawberry macarons along with either a hot chocolate for cold days, or a cold chocolate milkshake for the warmer days.

You were deep into your own mind when you heard the bell to the café door chime a sweet jingle. You had been so focused with your drawing that you had completely blocked out the usual background noise of the café that you loved so much, Tuning back into your surroundings you noticed a couple of things. First the sky outside had gotten darker as clouds rolled in. Second, your favorite song just happened to be playing on the cafe’s radio that they were playing. Last but not least, there was an insanely attractive guy ordering at the register. You couldn’t quite see the man’s face yet his stature and his outfit bore a hint of familiarity.

Where have you seen this guy before?

But as quick as you were intrigued, you lost interest, maybe he just looked like someone you saw on the street or in a magazine. Your attention went right back to the screen of your drawing tablet. Today was one of those days where you just needed to relax and unwind from all of the stress university had put you under. Your way of relieving your stress was to do what uni wanted you to do, draw. Of course you weren't drawing what they have in your classes or for your subjects, but you were drawing what you enjoyed drawing. Idols. Specifically, Park Gunwook.

Gunwook, oh you could never get that boy out of your head. Of course many people think about idols all the time, but to know of an idol who is your age, who is that talented and famous. Who wouldn’t have an internet crush on that person?

It seemed like hours ago when that doorbell chimed, but in actuality it had only been a few minutes. You glanced to where the handsome boy was earlier, he was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh? Are you drawing Park Gunwook from ZB1?” A masculine but soft voice asked behind you.

The sudden voice made you jump a bit and choke on the chocolate milkshake which you had been sipping on. You turn around and meet two cat-like eyes. The male was wearing a bucket hat, the same one the handsome guy at the register was wearing, he was wearing the same outfit as well.

This was the guy who was at the register! He was holding both a strawberry milkshake and a chocolate milkshake like your own.

All you could see was his eyes, his hat shading his face lightly from the dim cafe lights. A mask was on his face covering from his nose to his chin. But once again why did he look familiar? You were so sleep deprived at this point you really couldn’t think so hard about where you had seen him before, seen his eyes before. It just wouldn't click, even his voice sounded so familiar. It threw you for a loop.

"Yeah I am! He's like, my biggest celebrity crush!" She responds with a huge smile. Trying to hide the fact she is on like two hours of sleep and a thing of cup ramen. She totally forgot that her tablet was at its full brightness and that the glow of the screen could attract onlookers. It’s kind of embarrassing that some cute guy looked at her drawing this superfamous idol, let alone Gunwook.

Park Gunwook, is that the connection?

Wait a minute. She took another embarrassed look at the guy who was looking at her realistically detailed drawing of Gunwook.

She looked at his eyes again, the only thing she could see of him.

His eyes, oh my god his eyes. Those cat like eyes, the soft yet masculine voice.

He looked at the girl who was obviously panicking, “It looks really nice, how long have you been drawing?”

It took her way too long to process what was going on, and way too long for normal standards to reply to him.

“Ah, I’ve been drawing seriously since I was 10, I’m an art major at the moment.” Stay calm, oh my god stay calm. Don’t stutter, don't squeal, don’t mess this up Y/n.

“Wow really? That’s quite impressive, I do some of my own artwork in my free time.” The man replies, he opens his phone and shows the girl his most recent painting.

Roses. Fucking roses.

“That’s so cool, those look amazing!” She exclaims trying not to lose it, the little workers in her brain are going haywire trying to put out a non-existent fire in her head. Roses, roses, red roses. An all too familiar painting. An all too familiar person.

She knew now, who exactly she was talking to, and she was now nervous to the brink, she was about to break, to overflow. She sipped her milkshake more while trying to cool herself off both physically and mentally.

“Thank you, roses are lovely aren't they, they bear so many meanings depending on their color.” he stated, “red meaning love and passion, black meaning change and courage, and white meaning young love and innocence, fascinating right?”

Of course it is, the fact that different kinds of flowers have different meanings. And even those different flowers, their different colors have different meanings as well. Why wouldn't it be fascinating?

“It’s more than just fascinating, it’s enthralling.” She says.

It’s beautiful, isn’t it Shen Ricky?

----------------------------------

Chapter 1 is finally out! I think short chapters will be the norm, I am swamped with college work but will try my best to update at least once a week, if not twice. I hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @jiaant11

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grim-faux · 1 year

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Do you think Six and Mono’s clothes being there, probably means the events of LN2 already took place? Didn’t Noone mentioned they were torn off or something?

It is all very ambiguous, which is just a theme the LN world rolls hard with.

With the Seamstress or doll maker, it is possible this creature has a relation to the puppet-doll that was in the circus. But we'll come back to that in a sec here.

From Noone and the audio, it sounds like the Seamstress was making things. Like the puppet-doll Noone bashed with a bottle. She might have been creating costumes for dolls or the puppets and other toys, and that is where children like Mono, RCG, and Six received their essential articles of clothing. Even the cardigan Six wore at the beginning of LN 2 was a little larger on her. Lollypop kid from the digit comics was noted to be wearing form fitting clothing and shoes, the shoes are very unusual for children in Nowhere. Either they enter through the dream state the way Noone did, or the shoes wear away to nothing from traveling and rot. It is speculated that Lollypops kids articles of clothing and shoes resemble that of the Bullies in the school. Shoes will wear out fast when subjected to the elements, and many of the children Noone encountered had ratty or worn out clothing. But having sturdy clothing is an essential to these kids, as noted by Mono's very important coat, and Six when she found the iconic rain coat.

The chest may have been a container for eventuals. After all, we never learn what became of the Seamstress or how Noone escaped. It is possible that in the encounter with Noone, the creature was dispatched as many are following an encounter or terrorizing children. So the chest and all its contents may have been moved, or the building it was stored in collapsed, as many buildings in this world seem prone to do. It is as well probable that time parallels of Nowhere are not linear to the world Noone inhabits normally. She could be going backwards or forwards in time, but I doubt she would be looking for specifics attributes of when she is arriving.

The massive clock and stone giant may have been later in the Nowhere worlds chronology, compared to that of the Circus and the Dwellers/Bloats.

We're returning to the doll-puppet and the Seamstress here. Noone speculated (or figured out) that creatures 'adapt' and evolve to the environment of their surroundings. The Sewer Dweller dwells in the sewer, the Teacher has a long neck, the Hunter discovered extremes measures to 'welcome' nosy neighbors. The Seamstress was a doll, and she could have made a doll-puppet for the man in the purple suit. To what purpose? The puppet-doll may not have been for the man in the purple suit, but was meant to run the circus himself. A proprietor for the Seamstresses behalf. Thus, she made the clothing for these little buggers.

Like the one puppet pinned to the table with scissors. There could have been a whole colony of those things. The Seamstress may have been creating the Bullies for the teacher as well (girl power go). It is without doubt that there is no clothing made for children of the Nowhere world, except for that made specifically, or for toys and puppets. Which is an eerie take. The children are only able to acquire new clothing made specifically for toys or strange animated puppet-dolls. And the seamstress may as well get inspiration from children who are wearing such articles of clothing, and imitates them. She might also be snagging the clothing from children and refurbishing them for dolls and toys.

So the yellow coat in the chest may not belong to anyone specific, it likely was not Cece's. It has not found its eventual forever child yet.

#maybe the yellow rain coat IS cursed #little nightmares #lil nightmares #the sounds of nightmares #noon #mono #otto #six #the teacher #the seamstress #the hunter #a wild ask appeared!#i was lost in school and work stuff

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inxspacetime · 2 years

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“I’m not leaving you alone. Not now, not ever.” (micah to corey) (or ethan to richie)

Protective sentence starters??

I did both xx

Corey/Micah

Corey thought had really been the end - of a few things. His relationship with Micah, his current reign of terror over Haddonfield, and less importantly - his life. This was the first time he was killing on his own, wearing the same mask his mentor used as a symbol to truly strike fear into the heart of the entire town they inhabited. How he got it was a little unorthodox, he was sure he would pay the consequences later, but he didn’t care. That night was about one thing and one thing only; revenge. He was a little in over his head, murdering an entire group - the same group that seemed to specifically target him that week. He didn’t even need to lure them in, they took it upon themselves to try and vandalize the junkyard he worked at. Little did they know, he was waiting for them. Was the job easy? Not at all. Killing one person was fine, two proved to be a challenge, but four… five when including the casualty (his former boss and stepfather), he still wondered how the man who wore the mask before him did it so effortlessly.

But, he was still victorious. No matter if he almost lost, he still won. He was the last one standing, the last one breathing, his panting only further amplified by the rubber covering his face until he ripped it off. However, he wasn’t actually the last one left alive. He looked to the entrance of the junkyard and saw a person standing there — not just any person, but Micah. Even with the distance initially between them, he could make out that frame anywhere. At that moment, his blood ran cold. He stopped breathing, without even realizing, the world truly felt as though it was at a stand still. He was expecting the worst, to be called a animal, a monster, a killer. He expected the other to run, away from him, away from Haddonfield possibly. And yet, none of it happened. Not much was said, Corey didn’t even know how to explain his way out of something like this - but it seemed he didn’t have to.

Instead, a bloody hand was taken by a pair of clean ones, and he was told something he didn’t expect to hear from anyone. No less, while he was still covered in the blood of about five different people — - six, including his own. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” He didn’t know what ‘here’ exactly meant, other than the junkyard for sure. Wherever he did end up, what he knew for sure what that it’d be right behind Micah. He left the mask at the scene - if Michael found him with the mask, it was more than likely he’d become just another body to clean up.

Richie/Ethan

The action was nowhere near as honorable as it appeared to be. And Richie was sure if he was somehow lucky enough to make it through this night without either dying or going to jail and being hated by the younger male holding onto him, then he would hate him when he eventually learned the full story. Amber was getting impatient; she wanted Ethan dead yesterday. And Richie was trying to prolong that as much as he could, stall long enough to find an excuse that would make Ethan surviving ‘better for their movie’. But no reason seemed to satisfy her, and in no time the night of the grand finale was finally upon them.

Richie was a bit distracted. He was focused on the plan, but more than a small part of him was worried about Ethan’s fate. He wanted to make sure nothing happened to him, but there was only so much he could do to stop Amber. Especially when he fucking stabs him in the gut — that’d surely stop him a little bit. He should have seen it coming it, maybe he thought he would be the one to betray his partner; maybe he already did in a sense. Whatever the specifics were, the result was Richie slowly bleeding out on the staircase leading from his former partner’s basement.

He tried to be quiet as he moved, but he couldn’t help but stumble his entire way up the steps. This was his first time being stabbed, he had nothing to prepare him for the world of pain he was in aside from the movies he adored so much. He was genuinely startled when Ethan found him, and a feeling of despair pooled in the pit of his stomach. He was still there, and so was she. “I’m fi… fine.” He lied, and very badly at that. He did his best to put on a convincing brave face for the other, but the ragged pacing of his breathing gave it away - if his totally unconvincing brave face didn’t already kill the illusion.

“Get outta here. Please…” But before he could even finish his plea, he was silenced by a promise. Once that tugged at his heart in a way he knew it shouldn’t have, one he didn’t deserve in the slightest. And one he didn’t want to accept. This was his problem; he came up with the plan and he was the one who lost sight of it. If either of them should die over it, it was him. And all Ethan had to do to let that happen was run up those stairs and get the hell off that cursed property. But he heard it in his voice, he wasn’t going anywhere without him.

And so, so they weren’t completely defenseless against the killer whenever she decided to strike, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pistol. A bloody hand offered it to the younger silently. He knew there would be questions, questions he would have to answer for if they got out of this alive. And surprisingly enough, he was actually hoping they made it to that point.

#corey cunningham ✆ meme #richie kirsch ✆ meme #❦ — corey cunningham & micah levy (wholesome-smut)#❦ — richie kirsch & ethan hendricks (wholesome-smut)#wholesome-smut #blood tw #injury tw #murder tw

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hinumay · 1 year

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So I wrote something.... Out of nowhere I'm not really sure how much I can write bout this but here ya go

I don't have a title for it yet tho but for the meantime let's call it... Orchid's Lament

the orchid smells of sunlight and dew, of course they should be, i thought to myself, the storm has passed 2 days ago and now the warmth of the Sunfather has embraced the isles. it has always been like this, as i walk every morning through the age old corridors and in disrepaired tapestries and fading murals on this humble castle i call home, i can always smell them. i took a pause, looking up an arch with a wooden orchid symbol ornately carved i wondered there for quite long, initially i thought of how old that might’ve been, im not really that old, i think it might be older than grandfather, well, as being the youngest son, i think i might just live as long as it, slowly noticing its decay hiding inside. as if its not an apt metaphor i thought. i breathed in and continued walking towards the courtyard.

smany people think we do things strangely here, which im not really sure whether their right or not, since ive lived here for all my life and havent traveled anywhare at all. but our lord, hmm, my father usually addresses the town in the courtyard whilst other clans would either do it in an enclosed throneroom or the town center, but were not like that, id like to think its because were more closer to our subjects. my father was trying to speak over the loud noises of concern and even some shouting of worry, there must be a problem in the device since hes standing up imploring 9 thousand people inside a castle that can support only 2 thousand to listen. i was escorted in behind the platform, along with my kelpper my dog, there was indeed a commotion on the staff, for some reason, somebody seemed to have hammered the vox, gosh, thats an expensive thing, its like 90crowns, 5 years of the town’s earnings is what it is, and somebody just decided to damage it. i looked around adn found my eldest brother trying to organize this mess, “they did it” he said furrowing his brows more filled with concern though rather than rage. my brother Enver is an amazing man, he usually is annoying once he starts odering you specifically, but he was born to it, he was the eldes i mean he didn really have a choice did he, but he performed well as a leader, he isnt like our grandfather who had a bellowing voice of command and charisma, or like our mother who had been liked by so many of her students and had become somewhat of a legend in the town school for always putting their needs first, my brother is somewhat a mix of my father’s subtlety and my mother’s determination, and in all honesty, to see him worried like this frightens me. “wheres Serdar?” i asked, “there busy trying to organize the crowds on the gates of the castle, hes working on his light screens along with Hans. after a while though, several aids and guards did manage to bring in the replacement. ”repairing it would cost a lot, i murmured“ trying to redirect the conversation, my dog whined in agreement. they managed to set it up quick and our conversation was abruptly cut as the voice of my father, trying to imitate his father before him echoed through the castle halls. and suddenly the sound of 20 thundering engines of 25 ft tall walkers in vaguely humanoid shape old beaten and battered but ornately designed, bearing shields and swords wearing the orchid symbol on their pauldrons slowly started to stand in synchronized attention in response to my father’s plea for the people to listen. these are the guardians of our isles, these are our knights.

#writing #blurbs #blurb #fantasystories

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nicad13 · 2 years

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Crossroads: Chapter 10

The Surrendered Soul

Summary: Din and Rayne run into a couple of Din’s “old friends.” It’s horrible.

And yet, it all pushes Din into doing something that just might help him heal.

Notes: Canon-compliant through Season 1, alt version of Season 2. Posting some old fic before the sequel, which will hopefully be complete by the end of Season 3. Start now so you're ready! AO3 link in the Source at the bottom.

More lovely sketches by @catstanbulite

Tags/Warnings: Force-interrogation, execution, blood, sex, Inappropriate Mandalorian Iron joke, PTSD

Rating: Mature

I’m coming up on infra-red There is no running that can hide you ‘cause I can see in the dark I’m coming up on infra-red Forget your running, I will find you

Placebo, Infra-Red

---

They walked together in the Coruscant night, letting themselves get lost in the lights, letting the infinite skylines swallow them up. A Mandalorian in beskar armor painted the color of dried blood, Amban pulse rifle slung across his back, walked side-by-side with a woman, seemingly unarmed, in black leggings and a sand-colored wrap.

Din needed to get out, walk around, clear his head. Rayne was curious about the progress of the Federal district since her last visit a few years ago. Reesha shooed them out, she and Yadier clearly having taken a shine to each other. Zavin, well, he had a new frog leg recipe he wanted to try out, and he knew a receptive audience when he saw one. Already, they were ba’vodu, aunt and uncle.

Din was unused to the press of crowds. He’d been to Coruscant only once before, an intriguing Underworld job that he’d worked with Ran’s crew in the Bad Old Days. Otherwise, he’d made an effort to avoid the Core in general, and now found himself quite literally up to his eyeballs in throngs of people of all species, shapes, colors, and sizes. He handled it fine for the first half-hour or so before it started to wear on him. He endured it for another half-hour because the wide-eyed expression on Rayne’s face indicated that maybe she’d spent a little too much time on a dustball planet by herself over the last few years. After that, his anxiety grew to a level that she was able to detect, so she steered them to a lesser-populated area.

Normally, none of it would have bothered him. After the existential crisis of the previous day however, things were far from normal.

They walked in silence, the rifle on Din’s back mostly for show to make it look like he was working, shepherding Rayne on some sensitive errand. The silence was deceptive, existing only in an outward way. She sensed the churn of his thoughts, though the only specific thing she could discern was the steady beat of “dar’manda” every so often. It broke her heart to listen to, unsure of how the abuses that Death Watch had leveled against him as a child meant that he had lost his soul through any violations of his own. Asking him about it would get her nowhere right now, and he was unlikely to bring it up himself, so she decided to bide her time, assuming there was a long game here to play. Instead, when the noise from his mind got particularly loud, she hooked one of her fingers around his, just for a moment, not daring to make eye contact, not daring to project affection in public, just enough of a nudge to remind him that she was there. That he wasn’t alone.

It would calm him for a short time, until he inevitably started right back up with it.

The bucket had allowed him to get through life with only regulating his emotions insofar as they drove his body language and his voice, and to say that his posture and vocal tones were expressive was an understatement. He’d never had to learn to control his facial expressions, and that lack of restraint was evident in the way his mind was a sieve to the Force. The beskar dampened it with distance, but when she stood right next to him, it didn’t matter.

For a man of such few words, his mind spoke volumes.

Eventually, they managed to find themselves on an empty street in an industrial district, closed up for the night, establishments dark and empty.

Careless of them, really.

The blade was in Rayne’s hand before she even realized it had been thrown at her.

She turned and caught another one before she’d gotten all the way around to see the purple Twi’lek behind them. Rayne and Din both ducked for cover in the doorway of one of the buildings as blaster fire lanced out from the direction they were headed in.

Well, this was fun and unexpected.

Din tossed his chin in the direction they’d come from. “You take her. I’ll handle the blaster fire up front.”

“Sure.”

Din pushed off and hauled ass across the street, drawing the fire, pulling the Amban around, head turned pointedly to the source of the shots. Come and get me, asshole.

Rayne stepped back out into the street. Bring it.

Furious, the Twi’lek threw three more blades. Rayne caught them all, plucking them from the air with the casualness that one would use to pick fruit from a vine. Schooling herself to patience, she made a show of looking at them in her hand, then holding them up as she looked at her assailant. “Thanks,” she said, and then slid them into her pocket.

The Twi’lek screamed and rushed her, growling the entire time she closed the distance between them. Rayne turned half a step back with her right foot, then remained still until the last moment, when she hooked her left fist into the side of the Twi’lek’s head, just to the front of the lekku.

Xi’an’s world went black.

---

Din flanked his quarry, once again finding himself behind Mayfeld as the ex-Imperial “sharpshooter” searched for his target.

“You never learn.”

Once again, Mayfeld screamed, but at least he managed to turn himself around this time. Of course, being a sharpshooter meant he was nearly useless in a close hand-to-hand fight. Din almost felt bad for him when he put a fist through his face and knocked him out cold.

Almost.

---

Rayne watched as Din appeared around a corner, a body slung over his shoulder. When he reached her, he dumped it, this one a human male, next to the Twi’lek. She regarded him out of the corner of her eye. “Old friends of yours?”

“Scar right here,” he tapped the inside of his right shoulder with his left hand.

Rayne nodded. She knew the one. One of the fresher scars on him.

He gestured to the Twi’lek. “She put it there.” He took a long sigh. “The prison transport job.”

Rayne nodded. He’d given her the broad strokes a few weeks ago. “So this is Xi’an.”

---

The first thing Mayfeld was aware of was the sound of wood scraping across wet pavement. The second thing he was aware of was that he was sitting on a crate with his hands bound around a pole behind his back. He heard the creak of wood just in front of him, as if someone had taken a seat on a similar crate.

“Wake up.”

The voice seemed to come from the inside of his own mind, and he snapped his head up, almost against his will. Before him sat a woman with short chestnut hair, just long enough for curls at the top, leaning forward, elbows propped on her knees, hands loosely clasped. Staring straight into him with steely blue eyes.

He caught the flash of bekar to his right and looked to see Mando twenty feet away, leaning back against a wall, arms crossed over his chest.

He looked to his left and saw Xi’an in much the same state he was, sitting on a crate and bound, but still unconscious.

“Xi’an!” he snapped. “Xi’an! Wake the hell up! Hey! You hear me?”

“Eyes forward,” the woman spoke, and again, he seemed helpless but to obey.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“How did you find us?”

“I asked you a fucking question. Who the fuck are you?”

“How did you find us?”

Just as he was working up the saliva to spit in her face, her hand was around his throat, slamming his head into the pole.

“The easy way is I ask the questions and you answer them. The hard way is I pull the answers out of your head myself. So one more time. How did you find us?”

He met her gaze, tilting his chin to indicate the figure to the side. “Mando tell you what he did? He tell you he left us for dead in a prison transport? He tell you he murdered her brother?” The last was punctuated with a tilt of his head in Xi’an’s direction.

“He filled me in on the details.”

“Better watch your back, sister. Won’t be long till he has you hanging from his whipcord around your neck.”

“How did you get off that transport?”

“Up yours.”

“Last chance.”

“Fuck you.”

“Alright.”

Din watched as Rayne released her hold on Mayfeld’s throat. Against all predictions, the merc remained perfectly still as Rayne seemed to stare straight into him.

Din couldn’t help but notice a cold chill wrap around the base of his spine.

Mayfeld was pinned between the eyes before him and an invisible force around the rest of him, locking him still. He didn’t even have the will to fight it; fighting never occurred to him. The face before him betrayed no emotion, no effort. With a dawning sense of terror, he felt his mind open before her, as if the skin was flayed off his skull and the bone cracked clean through before the scalpel was brought forth to pry between the folds of his brain. All of the inborn cruelty one man could possibly harbor. All the things he had done. All the people he had killed. All the people he had robbed. All the women he had raped.

All of it.

Except for what she wanted.

He simply did not know how he’d had the dumb luck to stumble upon Mando and his new companion.

The only thing she did find was a memory of a cell door opening, a Stormtrooper standing on the other side of it. The Twi’lek exited before Mayfeld. He turned back as he stepped through the door, only to see the trooper shoot and kill the Devaronian following him out.

Then it all went black.

Knowing she’d reached a dead end, Rayne sat back. “Go to sleep,” she said.

Mayfeld’s chin dipped to his chest and his eyes closed.

A knot formed in Din’s stomach as he watched Rayne slide her crate over to Xi’an, sit back down, and say, “Wake up.”

Things didn’t go much better with her, even if it was a completely different interrogation.

Xi’an seemed to writhe against the pole, as if she enjoyed the fact that she was bound to it. “Did you lock me up here or did he?” she asked, casting a longing look at Mando, mouth open in a smile, running her tongue along her teeth. Her gaze returned to Rayne. “Did he ever tell you how he used to handcuff me to his bed?” She closed her eyes and squeaked at the memory, so vivid that Rayne couldn’t help but see it in her own mind. See them together. Xi’an opened her eyes and locked her gaze on Rayne’s. “Does he ever lock you to his bed? Oh, he doesn’t, does he? Not so eager to keep you there. So plain. How long does he last for you? Hmm? How many times has he made you come in one night before he finally lets himself go? Has he given you five in one night? Five, I think it was. His record for me.” She smiled, lips closed this time.

Yeah? I know his name. I’m the mother of his son. I’ve touched his hair. Rayne held back on the words that were at the front of her mind. She remembered her training, how the Jedi masters had warned her against the seductions of the Dark Side, how it was used to take the truth and twist it just enough to speak a lie and invite betrayal. Regular people could do the same thing with regular words sometimes, and that’s all this was. She understood the truth of Xi’an’s words, but even from twenty feet away and through a layer of beskar, Din’s terror spoke to the lie of their meaning. He had cuffed Xi’an because he’d been terrified of her. He had taken so long with her because he’d been terrified of her.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Rayne said, her voice soft. “How did you find us?”

Xi’an closed her eyes and lifted her chest with a deep inhale, then let it out. “Do you smell that?” she asked. “The smell of leather soaked in blood. His hands still smell like that when he takes the gloves off.” Another deep breath, eyes still closed. “The smell of his sweat mixed with the beskar in his helmet. It runs down through his hair and into his cloak.” One more breath, and then her eyes opened. “The smell of my cunt all over his cock. I was there a long time before you were.” And again, that open-mouth grin. “I can track him across the galaxy.”

Rayne appeared unmoved. “Okay.”

Only this time, when Rayne began the real interrogation, her target shrieked with dread.

Xi’an felt the probe of her psyche, felt the violation, and her mind exploded with horror and rage and fear, howling against any further breach.

Alarmed, Din straightened up as his hand dropped to his sidearm. Rayne backed off and held a hand out in his direction, palm down. Xi’an sobbed, head down, broken. “Go to sleep,” Rayne murmured, and Xi’an quieted.

“What did you do?” Din’s words were almost a hiss as Rayne approached him.

“Surprisingly little.”

He pointed to the wrecked mercs behind her. “You call that a little?”

“You really want to argue about damage control, bloodgloves?”

He lowered his hand, breathing out a sigh. “Point taken. What did you learn?”

She shook her head. “Not much. They weren’t explicitly sent here by anyone. A Stormtrooper let them out of their cell on the transport. I didn’t get any sense that they have any idea who Gideon is. They don’t even have tracking fobs. As far as they’re concerned, they found us by dumb luck.”

“What do you mean, as far as they’re concerned?”

She turned back to look at the mercs. “Depending on what kind of Sith power Gideon has at his disposal, he might have been able to push them to find us, somehow. Track us through the Force. We’ve only been here a few days. The galaxy can be a small place sometimes, but not that small, even if word has gotten around about us being here. I don’t know.”

“That makes more sense than them attacking us the way they did on their own. Xi’an would’ve come after me, not you.”

Rayne nodded. “You’re right. We have to operate on the assumption that Gideon is able to influence people to come after us.”

“What do we do with them?”

She turned back to face him, looking up into the visor. “Mayfeld deserves to die. He’s deserved it for a long time. The galaxy is better off without him in it.”

She heard the click of him taking a hard swallow. “Xi’an?” His voice cracked.

“You know why she’s like this, right?”

He was silent, chest rising and falling with each breath.

“She was sold, Mando.” Rayne was careful not to use his real name outside. “She was used pretty hard before you crossed paths with her.”

He turned to look in Xi’an’s direction. “Can you wipe her memory?”

“Yeah, but I can’t replace an hour-long gap, or make up a reason for why Mayfeld’s dead, or re-write her motivations for being here. She’d realize what we did to her.”

“Can you wipe the whole thing?”

“Sure. Make her a vegetable. That really what you want?”

He bowed his head. “No.”

“I recommend a painless exit.” She paused, and he answered with a nod. “I can do them both.”

“No,” he said. “It should be me.” He drew his sidearm and walked towards them. “Wake them up. They should die with their eyes open.”

She made it happen, and the mercs lifted their heads to his approach. He wasted no time with Mayfeld, lifting the blaster. The other man got as far as opening his mouth to voice a protest before Din put a bolt through his head.

He lowered his weapon and turned to Xi’an.

Rayne had the sudden realization that this was familiar, that she had seen this before.

Her dream. The night before Din and Yadier had arrived at her hangar.

Xi’an looked up to him, eyes sad, an expression he had never before seen on her face. “I dreamed of killing you for so long,” she said. “I dreamed of cutting your throat and taking that bucket off to watch your face as all the blood ran out of you.”

He lifted his blaster to her head, and goddammit, he couldn’t keep his hand from shaking. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What color are your eyes, Mando?”

“Brown.” His voice broke.

“I lo-”

He pulled the trigger.

At that range, there wasn’t much left. Her blood mixed with Mayfeld’s on his gloves, on his clothes, on his armor. He holstered the weapon, turned, and walked away, head down.

Rayne followed at a short distance, scanning, keeping the path before him clear.

Reesha was there to greet them when they returned, Yadier in her arms, her smile fading to shock when she saw the blood on Din’s armor. Heedless of her expression, he headed straight toward her, arms out to take back his son.

Rayne, knowing what Reesha was seeing, knowing she saw nothing but a blood-soaked, fully-armed and armored Mandalorian stalking towards her, the very same Mandalorian who had captured her and frozen her in carbonite years ago, ran to catch up. She held her hands up, palms down, as non-threatening as possible. “It’s ok. He can take Yadi upstairs.” She knew he needed this, needed to reconnect with their son to ground him back to their current focus. Reesha shifted her attention to Rayne and, seeing the confidence there, handed the baby to his father. Rayne extended a hand to Din’s upper arm. “Let me take the rifle.” He dipped his shoulder so she could undo the clasp on the bandolier and pull the Amban free. “I’ll be up in a bit.” He responded with a nod and left.

Reesha pinned Rayne with an alarmed expression. “Was he covered in blood?”

“Yeah. We had a run-in with some old friends.”

“Are you okay?”

“It’s nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“They’re dead?”

“Yeah. They won’t bother anyone again.”

“And when their bodies are found?”

“They were mercs. Not the kind of people the authorities are going to open an investigation for.”

Reesha ran a hand through her hair. “God, Rayne. Between last night and tonight… Is he…” She dropped her gaze, then brought it back up. “Is he ok?”

“He’s… rattled, but holding up enough. I think.”

“How are you holding up?”

Rayne let out a sigh. “I’m fine. I knew what I was getting into.”

Reesha lifted an eyebrow. Are you sure?

“He won’t hurt anyone under this roof. He quarantines himself before it comes to that. He demonstrated that last night.”

Reesha nodded. “Very well. Go see to your Mandalorian.”

Rayne dipped her head in a small nod and left.

Before heading to their room, she first stepped back outside and went to the Razor Crest. Keying the port ramp open, she walked up and into the hold, then went up the ladder to hang Din’s rifle by the door to the flight deck. She went back down the ladder and headed to her locked drawer. Currently, the only things in there were her lightsaber and sparring sabers, each in their respective boxes. With great care, she reached into her pocket, pulled out Xi’an’s knives, and placed them in the drawer. She would find an appropriate box for them later. Maybe even teach herself how to use them, at some point. But for now, it was best that they be kept out of sight, from both Yadier and Din. Locking the drawer, she swept her eyes over the hold, confirmed that everything looked as it should, descended the ramp, and buttoned the ship back up.

She entered their room to find the lights dimmed but not off, not immediately finding Din or Yadier. “We’re over here,” his voice called from the walk-in closet recess around the corner.

She found him sitting on the floor in the back of the closet, his back against the wall, Yadier in his lap, clutching a new plush frog that was nearly as big as he was. Din had already changed his clothes and washed the blood from his armor, and she could hear the clothes unit at work from the other side of the room. Yadier released his hold on the frog and held one arm up, asking to switch parents. He always did that – wanting to be held by whoever was the latest to walk in. If Din got up, left, turned around and came back in, Yadi would want to go back to him. She crouched to scoop him up, then sat back against the opposite wall to face Din, sliding her leg next to his.

The closet was large as far as closets went, but seemed small enough for Din’s requirements at the moment. The light was off, but enough light from the main room filtered in to see by. No doubt he needed the shelter to be found here, punctuated by the fact that he’d put his armor back on immediately after cleaning it and changing his clothes.

He breathed out a long sigh. “Well, that was horrible.”

“Yep. It was.”

Yadier voiced a long burble, his tone subdued, as if in agreement with his parents.

“Is it even ok for him to see me like this?”

“Yeah. This level is fine. He knows it’s not all sunshine and roses by now. It’s good for him to see us work through it. That he knows he’s still safe with us even when we’re not feeling right.”

“Okay.” He tipped his head back into the wall with a thud and took another breath. “You handled Xi’an well.”

“Not gonna lie. She was creepy.”

“Yeah. She was.”

“So… what did you see in her?”

Another sigh. “I was lonely. Stupid. Wanted to end a five-year dry spell and there weren’t any other options.”

She allowed herself a small smile. “Desperate.”

His shoulders shook with a sharp exhale. “Yeah.”

She pressed her leg against his. “No judgment. I’ve been there.”

“You said you got along with your exes.”

“I said I got along with all the exes who are still alive.”

The helmet tipped to the side as the words sunk in, but he couldn’t bring his own words forward. Not so soon after what he’d just done.

She turned her foot into his thigh. “You’re not the only person in this closet to kill an ex.”

“What happened?”

“I chose poorly. I sort of knew what I was getting into, but, y’know. Youth and foolishness and all that. I left when it got to be too much. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and tried to rearrange my face. I rearranged his spinal column instead.” Once again, her tone was oddly conversational, as if she was talking about a difficult engine repair instead of taking the life of someone who had threatened hers. “Can I ask a harder question?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Why didn’t you kill them in the first place? You knew your actions were going to kill everyone on Ran’s station. Why spare Xi’an and Mayfeld?”

Because I seem to have a harder time killing a person I slept with than I do with collateral damage. One more bit of evidence as to the absence of his soul. Too horrified by that particular truth to consider it further, he went with the lie he told himself the first time around. “I was counting on the New Republic to deal with them when the ship got to its destination. It was a mistake.” He saw the look of skepticism cross her face, like she knew that it was unlike him to let someone else do his dirty work. He just wasn’t ready to give her that answer, yet. He decided on a tactical change in the discussion. “Your set of connections has otherwise been more helpful than mine.”

She laughed. “This is true. You owe me big time.”

She was right. He did owe her. And his heart ached because he had nothing to give. His soul was lost.

And with it, all consequences of breaking the Creed.

Dar’manda.

He could take the helmet off right now and it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference for his soul. But the thought of it still made his stomach threaten to turn itself inside out. The shame of it. Rayne thought she knew who he was. But if she were to truly see him, she would understand the monster he really was, see all the sins written on his face. She would take their son and leave the Mandalorian terrorist, put as much distance as possible between their son and the dark forces that brewed in his mind before he could corrupt Yadier. If anyone could turn the brightness of Yadier’s being to the Dark Side, it was his own father, raised for war, talented only in the murder of others.

“Din?”

He opened his eyes, forgetting that he’d closed them. Remembering that yes, he did owe her. He would not, could not, give her the sight of his face, but he could do something else. He turned his head toward the closet entrance. “How’s your night vision?”

She lifted an eyebrow at the sudden change of topic, but went with it anyway. “The Force allows me to navigate in the dark. I can tell where objects are, what their general shapes are, if they’re moving. No colors or anything.”

He was silent for a long time, and she almost thought he’d fallen asleep, were it not for the pace of his breath. “Can you see faces?”

Oh. Oh. “No. It’s more like… what everyone else sees in a shadow, I think. My hands would tell me a lot more, but no more than for anyone else. If… that’s allowed.”

“It is.” Again, he was silent for a long time, and his posture was weary against the wall. Yadier was asleep in her lap, face buried in his new frog. She remained still, gaze soft upon his visor, waiting. Finally, Din pushed himself up off the floor and offered her a hand up. “Let’s get him to bed.”

“Yeah.”

They tucked him into his new pod, frog and all, both gifts from Reesha and Zavin. Satisfied he was down for the count, Din clicked the button to close it up, moved it to the adjoining room, and returned. “It’s completely dark in here when the lights are off and the windows are polarized.”

“Is it.” It wasn’t really a question.

“I need a shower.” He turned and headed to the bathroom, then stopped and turned back when he realized she hadn’t followed. He bowed his head. “I’m gonna need your help if I’m doing this in the dark.”

She approached, eyes locked on the visor, and stood before him.

He flicked the light switch off.

It was, in fact, completely dark.

In the absence of light, sound is amplified. In the absence of light, the click of shed beskar becomes a crack. The rustle of shed clothing becomes an avalanche. The draw of breath becomes a storm. Her hands were on his shoulders, rising and falling with each breath he took when he brought his hands up and pushed his fingers through the short hair on the back of her head. “Will you be my armor?” His voice was rough.

“I have been your armor since the day we met.” Her voice was not smooth, either.

“Will you protect me?”

“I have always protected you.”

“Will you leave me defenseless?”

“I will defend you for as long as I am in your life.”

She heard him take one last swallow, one last breath, and then he brought his hands to the bottom edge of the helmet, broke the seal, and lifted it off.

The sound of his unmodulated breath touched her ears. The first time since she had needed to remove his helmet to save his life. Only this time, instead of harsh and ragged, it was soft. Vulnerable. She slid her hands up the sides of his neck and got as far as his ears when she felt his hands around her wrists. Gentle, but firm. “Shower first.”

“Okay.”

She took him by the hand and guided him in, guided him through until the water rained down on them both, washing away the earlier horrors of the night. He fumbled for the soap until she handed it to him, and then he ran it through his hair and over his body, as if trying to shed what he was earlier, undergo a metamorphosis before revealing himself to her anew. She followed his lead, if only to get the blood out of her hair. Only then did he reach out for her, bring his hand to the back of her neck to pull her in, and press his forehead to hers, the gesture he had fought off for so long now finally possible, chest heaving, breath labored even above the sound of the falling water, drawing his nose along hers.

Finally, she brought her lips to his, tentative at first, surprised to find them so soft. He escalated quickly, pressing himself fully to her, allowing her to bring her hands up and explore the planes of his face. The silhouette of him in her mind was complete, now, the shape of his head, one she knew to be enduringly round from before, complemented by a strong jawline and distinctly curved nose when he turned to profile.

He brought her hand to him, breath desperate against her ear. Understanding his strategy, she gripped him, letting him yield to urgency now so that he could afford patience later. It wasn’t long before he shuddered against her, teeth sunk into a gentle bite at the place where her neck met her shoulder. He pulled back and kissed her, and she could taste the salt of his tears.

They stepped out and she dried them both, and then she led him to the bed.

Their custom had been for her to retrieve the wrapped package from the drawer and offer it to him, a symbol of her offering him protection in exchange for his disarmament. The practice had never been necessary, given her circumstances, but he had been unable to break himself of the habit. She was not Mandalorian. This was the Way. Now, after what he had learned, that no longer seemed to matter. She, the enemy sorcerer, protected him better than any Mandalorian ever could. He had nothing to prove to her. He needed no defense against her. To the contrary, he wanted no further barriers between them. Even more, he wanted… he wanted to give of himself to her. It didn’t matter that there would be no seed to plant. That wasn’t the point. The point was to give her at least as much as what he had given anyone else. In return for all she had already given him. For all she had yet to give. So when he heard her slide the drawer open, he reached in the dark and stilled her hand. “Is it ok if we don’t, anymore?”

Her response was immediate. “Of course.” His intentions were much brighter in her mind, now, with the helmet no longer between them. Taking his meaning, she turned to face him in the dark, and pulled him down so she could once more place her lips upon his. “I’ve wanted you this way for a long time,” she whispered.

“Lie down,” he replied.

She did.

He sank to his knees and she felt the brush of the stubble on his jaw along the inside of her thigh as he paid his debts.

Oh, he was way better with his mouth than she expected.

Gentle. Still, so gentle.

He tasted every inch of her. Made up for lost time. Lips soft against her skin, drawing goosebumps as she felt his breath upon her for the first time. For the first time in ages, he felt the light tip of a tongue along his earlobe, and he nearly came undone right then and there.

“Is this better?” he murmured, lips pliable against her jaw. “Without the helmet?”

She let out a long breath, gripping the hard length of him. “All the Mandalorian Iron I want is right here.”

He groaned, a mix of desire and indignity, and brought his teeth to bear low on her neck, more to her shoulder, and placed another longing bite there.

At long last, their connection was made with nothing between them, all barriers removed. She pulled his head close, threading her fingers through his hair, feeling his breath on her cheek. And when her release approached, it crept up his spine and no was longer stopped at the base of his skull. No longer did it surge at his throat, blocked by the beskar helmet. Now it crept up his jaw and over his face and through his eyes and all the way into his head and he felt it as his own when it all came down on them both all at once and they surged together.

A few moments. An eternity. Neither one of them really knew.

He lay on his back and she traced the lines of his face, studying him with the tips of her fingers. Along his jaw. The outline of his lips. The ridge of his nose. The top of a cheekbone.

He flinched when she ran a thumb along his eyebrow, grasping her wrist with the same reflex used against anyone going for the helmet, yanking her hand down and away, the action complete before he even realized what he was doing. She yielded immediately.

“Sorry…” he spoke into the dark. “Recurring nightmare.” The same every time. The sun beating down on him, without his helmet, without his armor, nothing but a wooden spear in his hands, and he’s screaming. Screaming in a language he doesn’t understand, not knowing what he’s screaming about. And somehow, a giant bald man pulls him to the ground, puts a fist through his face, knocking all the teeth out of his head, and then giant thumbs descend to his eyes…

He told her all of this, told her he didn’t know why, only that it started about six years ago of its own accord.

“Fair enough,” she answered. “I’ll stay away from your eyes.”

---

Back at sifting through the data again the next day.

Din had set the Mandalorian history aside for the duration. He’d had enough for now, and Reesha allowed him to keep an encrypted copy to look through later, warning that he was to forget where and how he got it if he was ever caught with it. Instead, he busied himself with a list of bars and cantinas frequented by smugglers, not understanding why it was in a Jedi archive, but knowing these places were often good sources of information, none the less.

Yadier was tucked into his left arm, dozing, exhausted after a day of being out on the town, each of the four adults taking a turn with him in the birikad while taking a break from the work. Reesha had picked up a convincing set of costume lekku as a disguise to cover his ears the day before. While he was otherwise far too squat to pass for an infant Twi’lek, it was convincing so long as he stayed in the birikad. Din was profoundly disturbed by the idea of carrying around a baby Twi’lek, but he’d kept it to himself. There was no way Reesha could have known.

At least Yadier wasn’t purple.

Zavin was looking through clone trooper tech when he made a startled “Huh.” Everyone looked up at him for several moments, but when he merely continued reading, they went back to their own work. He seemed to have gathered his courage by the time he shared an image to the main projector five minutes later. “Anyone wanna take a guess about what this is?”

The image that floated and rotated above the table was a blob that looked like several muscle fibers bound together.

“Looks like bantha jerky gone bad,” Rayne said.

“Incorrect. Anybody else?” Zavin waited a beat before continuing. “This,” he sighed, “is an inhibitor chip. Implanted in the brains of every single clone trooper during fetal development.”

He paused to let that sink in, eyes taking a measured look at Rayne as she kept her expression blank.

Din wondered if Zavin knew about Eagle.

“The chips contained the protocol for Order 66. The clones had no choice but to obey it.”

Rayne pulled her hands from the table and into her lap, lowering her gaze.

“He couldn’t help it, Rayne,” Zavin said, his voice quiet.

Din had his answer.

“It explains a lot,” Reesha added in a measured tone. “The perfect compliance to an atrocity. They were programmed.”

Like a bunch of fucking droids. Din managed to swallow the words before they were out of his mouth. Instead, he slid his foot so it pressed against Rayne’s under the table.

Rayne didn’t know which was worse. The thought of her ba’vodu taking an instantaneous turn to a heartless murdering machine, not caring if he killed her, or the thought of him fighting himself, unwilling to kill her but compelled to do it anyway, his own actions beyond his control.

Which had it been?

Did it matter?

She looked once more at the chip, then returned to her work without comment.

Everyone else took the hint and continued as well.

“Here’s something…” Reesha shared a document up to the central projector sometime later. “A Jedi. He was a pilot in the Resistance. Oh, hey! He’s the guy who blew up the Death Star – Luke Skywalker. He’s starting a new Jedi Order. This could be-”

“Absolutely not.” Rayne interrupted.

Din tilted his head. Of the two of them, he had not expected Rayne to be the one to voice an objection to reaching out to a Jedi.

“Rayne?” Zavin’s voice was cautious. “What’s up?”

“I am not taking my son to Skywalker.” Her voice was cold steel.

“What’s the problem with Skywalker?” Reesha asked.

Rayne lowered her gaze, shaking her head, closing her eyes. How was it that so much of her life was defined by one night? How was it that every hangup she had was the result of one singular event? She was so tired of it. She was so tired of explaining why she was the way she was by describing it in bits and pieces because telling the whole thing at once would just tear her apart. The whole thing happened almost thirty-five years ago and she still wasn’t over it, and that alone pissed her off to an enormous degree.

But here she was again, having to explain how Order-fucking-66 was getting in the way.

“The problem with Skywalker is that I watched his father slaughter a dozen Younglings. The problem with Skywalker is that his father was Darth fucking Vader. I’m not letting that guy touch my kid with a hundred meter pole.”

Zavin sighed, canceling the image of Skywalker from the projector. “Can’t argue with that.”

They worked a little while longer, and Din uncovered a mention of Maz Kanata in his list of smuggler bars and cantinas. Turned out she was also Force-sensitive, though not a Jedi. Her only rule appeared to be “All are welcome. No fighting.”

Zavin snorted. “You’ll get thrown out after ten minutes.”

Din gave the sort of shrug that said you’re not wrong.

Rayne had been silent since the exchange about Skywalker. Now, she pushed away from the table and got up. “I’m gonna go check something on the ship.”

That seemed to be code for I’m gonna go have a meltdown, by now. Her exit was far less dramatic than Din’s had been, so there was likely less cause for concern. None the less, Din watched her leave, then took a measured sigh. “I’ll give her a few minutes and then head out.”

---

He stood by the ladder to the flight deck, listening, hearing her uneven breaths from above. She’d left the door up there open, a clear enough signal. Still, after what she had just said, the memories she had shared with him over the last month, he knew what her reaction to the armor would be. He shed the beskar, stacking it on the bunk, making just enough noise with it so that she would know what he was up to. He finished with his gloves, placing them on the pile before he ascended the ladder.

He found her curled up on the starboard jump seat, knees pulled to her chest, facing out through the windscreen, taking in the view of Coruscant’s nighttime skyline. “Hey.” He kept his voice soft.

“Hey.” She did not turn to face him.

“Can I dim the polarization?” Can I make it dark enough in here to take the bucket off?

She considered. The reason she came here in the first place was for the view. A place of protection that wasn’t closed off. If he blocked the screen entirely, the flight deck would just become another closet, which was the exact opposite of what she needed. “Can we keep the skyline?”

“Yes.” It took a minute to get it just right, but after a while, the brighter lights of the city were muted, the outlines of the buildings remained, and it was dark enough that all he could see of her was her shadow, and that was all she would be able to see of him.

She heard him lift the helmet off and place it on the console. She turned her head as he approached, her view of the indigo sky above blocked by his silhouette. He knelt before her, placed a tentative hand on her kneecap, and waited.

She placed her hand over his.

He leaned in, and she let him pull her knees around his ribs, let him pull her shoulder to his head, let him wrap his arms around her.

The tears were done. All she could do was tremble and breathe.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She couldn’t respond, so she brought her arms up around him, fingers spread wide over his shoulder blades.

“It’s been a rough few days,” he said, voice quiet.

She nodded against the top of his head, his hair soft against her face.

“I trust your judgment,” he whispered.

“Thank you.” She couldn’t trust Skywalker. Deep in her gut, she knew that path would not end well for Yadier. “I won’t let our son fall to the Dark Side, Din. I can’t. I can’t fail on this.”

“I know.” He felt her shiver against him. He remembered Yadier’s choke-hold on Cara. He knew the potential their son carried, both for good and bad.

“I know,” he whispered again, holding her.

---

She took her son out to the balcony, the sweeping view of Coruscant laid out before them, and had a seat on the bench, holding him so he faced her. He looked up at her with those huge brown eyes, ears relaxed, knowing what she was feeling was important, knowing what she was about to say was important.

“I love you so much, Yadier,” her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “You need to understand this. We both love you so much. I don’t know if your father says it. If he doesn’t, you need to understand that he wants to.” Yadi had taken the Mythosaur pendant out and put it in his mouth, and his eyes shone with unshed tears. “I’m not good at it either. The important thing is that you know how this feels from us, that you know what it means.” She lifted him up to place a kiss at the top of his head and then rested her head on his. She cradled his little body in her hands, closed her eyes, and allowed herself to feel.

Allowed him to feel the weight on her heart when she thought of him, her desire to teach him all the things she knew, her sorrow that she had so little to offer, her instinct to protect him, her wish to provide for him, to help him grow, help him gain strength, give him what he needed to someday face the world on his own.

“We will be with you for as long as we can. We will give you everything we have so that you can be your best. We know you will be so much more than us. We will do everything we can to protect you. Point you in the right direction. So that someday, when you’re all grown up, you can use all the gifts you have to make the galaxy a better place.”

Din stood several paces back, that tightness in his chest getting a good hard grip on him, as he listened to Rayne offer their son all the promises a parent should make, realizing that he had the ability to follow through on them, knowing she did as well, overwhelmed at the point that she did all this without ever having parents herself. Promising to provide what she herself had never received.

Unable to stand it any longer, he approached, footsteps silent, knowing they could sense his arrival anyway. He eased himself down to the bench, knees grinding, and put his arm around her. He started to lean his head into hers, caught himself, and pulled back.

“It’s ok,” she whispered, not turning her head. “He should see this.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, the glint of reflected cityscape lights shining off of the thin line of tears that ran down her face.

He leaned back in, and with a gentle weight, rested his head against hers, meeting his son’s gaze. Yadier’s face was wet with his own tears, but smiling. Din took his glove off and ran his thumb along the edge of Yadi’s eye, picking up the wetness there, then brought his hand up to Rayne, pulling his fingers through her tears. He rubbed his thumb and fingers together, mixing the tears of mother and son, and let out a shaky sigh, making it clear that he was going to need time later to dry out the inside of his helmet, as well.

At such close range, the beskar did little to hide him from them. The emptiness in his life that they filled, the wounds of both his body and soul that they healed, the steel of his will with which he would protect them. They had held him together when he had broken to pieces, and he vowed to give them everything he had, everything he was, in return.

He didn’t need the words.

They felt it to the very core of their souls.

---

Din traced the scar over Rayne’s left shoulder as she fell asleep, feeling the smooth texture of it in the dark. The short hair on the back of her head bristled against his cheek. The taste of her lingered on his tongue.

Zavin’s question still pulled at him.

“What is she to you?”

His hand dipped lower to trace the leather string at her neck that held her buir’ruk, the symbol of their shared parenthood. The name of the line that bound them together through their son was inadequate, according to Zavin, despite the fact that it was where Din’s thoughts always went first. What was the name of the direct line?

None of the words in Basic quite got it. Girlfriend was just stupid. Partner was too dry. Lover was both overly romantic and incomplete. Crewmember with benefits was also stupid.

Even Mando’a seemed to lack anything quite right. Cyare. Beloved was the closest translation. Seemed too soft of a word for her.

He’d vacillated over the last few days between the conviction that she and Yadier deserved better than him and he should leave them once Yadier was settled, and the hope that maybe they could all stay together, that he would somehow manage to fit in without having to change who he was and be accepted.

The problem was that he didn’t know what he was to himself, anymore. Warrior. Mercenary. Bounty hunter. At the base of it all, he’d always been a foundling. Above it all, a Mandalorian. Now, he realized, he’d just been a spoil of war instead. A Mandalorian by conscription. It all felt so wrong. The need to make it right was taking root in him. The need to avenge his parents and the foundlings with the blood of Death Watch.

Before he could figure out what Rayne was to him, he had to decide if he wanted to continue being a father or become a wielder of vengeance. The two were likely incompatible.

He also had to decide if he was ready to let go of Omera. More and more, he was becoming a different man than the one who had left Sorgan almost a year ago. If he went back without Yadier, he may be unrecognizable to her.

His hand slid to her hip. Not so much a sweep as it was an outcropping of bone and muscle. He wondered what he was to her and realized he was afraid of the answer. Regardless of which one it may be.

Yadier was the only thing he was sure of. His safety and their responsibility, their mission, as his parents to get him to his people. Rayne would do everything in her considerable power to make that happen. And for that…

For that… he felt…

He felt…

Like he had too many questions and not enough answers.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu

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jangmi-latte · 3 years

Text

࿐ “If Malleus had given you anything in the form of gold or diamond. You must prepare yourself. That’s a sign. You may not bear his kids just yet, but once his heat comes, it will be inevitable to stop him.”

➻ warnings: nsfw w/ a mix of fluff, breeding kink intensifies, vaginal penetration, clingy mal mal, rough sex, cunnilingus, just malleus going all out

➻ comments: it’s going to go back and forth between fluff and smut so be aware. minors, do not interact! this is The Dragon’s Temptation part two so enjoy! 4.4k words and fem reader <3

"Lilia…" you called, concerned, "...why are you laughing so much?" With no signs of stopping, the old fae continued to holler in laughter. His whole body shook as he continued to take in deep breaths in between chortles. You were growing even more concerned. It wasn't maniacal laughter, neither was it sadistic, it was just Lilia laughing in… joy if you would put it.

Silver— who was staring at Lilia and is currently half-awake—nudged his father to catch his attention; it didn’t work. Scratching his head with the same concerned expression on his face, he said, “Father. You know how laughing out of nowhere makes me nervous.”

The old fae shimmered down into small chuckles, wiping a tear or two as he laid back on the couch. Out of breath is he, he looked at you and chuckled again. His shoulders mockingly shaking before letting out a loud sigh. “It’s happening again.”

“What’s happening again?” both you and Silver asked simultaneously. Lilia looked over at the second-floor balcony of the castle they resided in. In silence, he caught Malleus, who stood and was staring at nothing; or at you. He was deep in thought, and neither you nor Silver noticed. Lilia asked Silver to give you and him some privacy, and the young man respectfully obeyed. He left you with the older fae and your husband, who now descended down the stairs, yet hid behind the wall. He avoided you, much to his dismay, and you have yet to notice the distance he has been placing.

“y/n, dear.” He sat upright and gestured for you to sit down beside him. You obliged and listened attentively. Lilia’s tone was soft, fatherly— or grandfatherly— like. Your thumb caressed the small black diamond that adorned your wedding ring whilst you glanced around in hopes of looking for Malleus. With half your attention situated in your surroundings, you looked back at Lilia, who held a knowing smile.

“Has Malleus given you anything yet?”

You pondered; it wasn’t your anniversary or was the day anything special. You replied, “Uhh... “ you bit the joint of your index finger in thought, “Give me anything like what? Be specific, please…” In the back of your head, you knew the answer. You have been married to and living with Malleus for five years now, it’s not unusual for Lilia to act like something was going to happen.

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about, dear.” There go the shaking shoulders and the suppressed laughter again.

Knew it.

You took a deep breath of air and leaned back on the couch. Your hands covered your face in embarrassment as you remembered the night before. Malleus gave you a pair of 24-carat gold earrings last night. Additionally, he was very lustful and clingy. He would sniff your neck while you’re in the kitchen, he would kiss your knuckles while you’re at the garden, he would hold and grip your thighs while he handled royal duties, and he would kiss and lick your breasts while you slept.

“Those earrings surely are beautiful.” Lilia grinned and stretched, before continuing, “Looks like I have to tell the gnomes to be ready in nine months again.”

“No, wait, Lilia! I’m not even pregnant—”

“Yet.” He cut you off with a wink.

“How would you even know I would get pregnant again this time?!” you whisper-yelled, face flushed in red. Unbeknownst to you, Malleus has been itching to touch you again as he stayed behind the wall. As each day passes by, he keeps on touching you, making sure to stay close to you at all times. It was only today that he kept his distance. He knew he would break any second and just fuck you on the spot.

“Is Faye enough of an answer for you?”

“Mama!”

Speaking of the devil, a little girl, no older than four, ran inside the castle’s lounge and wore a big grin on her face. She stopped just as your legs caught her from toppling to the ground. In a fit of giggles, she climbed onto your lap and kissed your cheek. “Hi, baby,” you cooed and rubbed your nose against your daughter’s cheek.

“Mama, mama. I found...i-i found—” she spoke, too hyper and giddy to finish her sentences as you tried to calm her down while rubbing her back.

“Deep breaths, sweetie.”

Obeying, she took a deep breath and exhaled. She then continued with her statement, “I found a mama duck with her…” she stopped and looked at her fingers, mumbling the numbers as she lifted each finger, “...four—” she showed you four fingers, “—baby duckies, and they were going for a swim! I want to touch one, but Silver told me not to.” Faye pouted.

You grinned, giggling as you kissed her cheek. “That’s great! And Silver is right. Don’t touch mama duck and her babies because she might get angry and hurt you. It’s just like how papa and I would get angry if someone else touches you.”

“She looks so much like Malleus. I feel nostalgic,” Lilia spoke and squished Faye’s cheeks. He wasn’t lying; Faye had green eyes and your hair. What made her look a lot like her father was her having his horns. She has developed into a part dragon, and her horns looked like two small bumps on her head.

“Grandpapaaaa…” Faye complained with a giggle as Lilia stopped his pinching. “Where’s papa, where’s papa?!” She looked around and even stood on your lap to look for her father.

“Ah, Faye. Come with grandpapa for a second. Playtime is over. It's time for your reading sessions. Your mother will look for your father while we read.” Lilia nodded his head towards the wall near the stairs, indicating Malleus' whereabouts. He carried the princess away from you and into another room. She even waved at you and sent you a flying kiss before Lilia closed the door. You sighed.

Malleus is in heat and Faye needs not to know about that.

“Mal?” you called and stood. You hear shifting from behind the wall and as you glance over, you see your husband. He was a bit bigger than his usual height and he had his long tail gently swishing behind him. The formal (it was casual in a way) attire he was wearing had the top buttons unbuttoned, giving you the best breast window you would ever see. As you took in a sharp inhale, he approached you.

You couldn’t speak as he eyed you; you eyed him back. Your brain absorbed this work of art of a husband in front of you. Handsome would be an understatement. “Dearest,” he sighed.

“Why...Why are you like this?” you asked, now concerned as you held his arms.

“You already know the answer.”

“I know but...why…” You moved your hands around, gesturing his whole physique while he looked down at himself. “Has Faye seen you like this?”

“She has,” Malleus said, making you surprised. “She likes playing with my tail. It gave me enough of a distraction from wanting to touch you,” he admitted. His tail wrapped around your waist and pulled you flushed against his chest. The closer you are to Malleus, the more you look at his features.

Your hand caressed his jaw as you smiled, "When did this happen?"

"This morning while you were in Faye's room. It was a sign for me to avoid you at all cost." Malleus' voice was strained and gruff. It held the hesitance of him needing to speak those words. He wants to do the exact opposite of course.

"And why would you do that? Mal. I'm your wife. It's my duty to make sure you're alright and sustained with all your needs. Do you really think you could avoid me?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I survived during your first heat," you confidently spoke. You felt the king's possessive and needy hands rub against your clothed hips. Itching their way under your dress and towards your thighs while he kept eye contact with you. "And you wouldn't hurt me."

"y/n, you don't understand," came his strict and authoritative tone. "With me in this form, I am already warning you, it's dangerous—"

"That's not stopping me from staying away from you."

"You're so stubborn." Malleus knew who he married as he exhaled through his nose and looked away in sexual frustration. Blabber here, blabber there, that's what you two are doing. What he wants is to mark you, kiss you, lick you, and make you scream already. Unbelievably horny.

You stood your ground, arms crossed over your chest as you stared up at your man. "I am."

His tail tightened around your waist, teeth gritting in frustration, "I held back on my first heat because you weren't my mate yet," he emphasized, "and now that you are my queen—" His used your chin to bring your face closer to his, lips grazing yours sensually as his slitted pupils glared at you, "—I am not going to hold back."

"I will fuck you. Breed you. And make sure you're pregnant by the end of the week. I can not and will not be able to hold myself back if that were to happen. Even if you tell me to stop, I will not. Do you understand, y/n?"

Air got stuck in your throat as your lips quivered. Either you were sexually turned on by Malleus' demeanor or you could really sense how intense his heat was at the moment. He was right. The moment you said 'I do' was the same moment you were claimed as his mate, his queen. How that sentence made your legs weak if it wasn’t for his tail holding you firm.

"Then so be it."

"y/n—…" Malleus searched your eyes for any signs of hesitance, maybe even fear. There was none. Must he be scared if he were to hurt you. You wanted to be there for him during one of his intense moments. Well, you were the one who gave him an heir; it’s not anything new that you would give him another. He only fears that with his strength and power as a fae, with him going out of control, he might just harm you.

And Malleus never wanted that to happen, not to you, not to Faye, not to anyone.

To you, this man is still your husband. This is still Malleus Draconia. Just different but it’s still him. You are his weakness; no matter how stubborn you get, even now that he YEARNS to be around you, you still have that impact on him. “Mal. I promise I’ll be okay. I’m here to help you.”

He sighed, letting you wrap your arms around his chest. “I’ll tell Lilia to keep Faye away from the castle for a week. I can’t expose her to this,” he mumbled against your hair. “By tomorrow, you should be ready.” You felt him inhale your scent as his grip around you tightened. Smiling, you kissed his neck, “As you wish.”

❥❥ ❥❥ ❥❥

“Faye, don’t give grandpa and your two big brothers a headache, okay?”

Tomorrow came sooner than you expected. Your husband is going to be one horny dragon for a week and it was hard to find an excuse to tell Silver, Sebek, and Faye since they’re going to be living in a cottage in the meantime. While you prepared yourself the previous night for Malleus—he was already impatient while you spoke to Lilia—you were also preparing Faye’s stuff. Not only did you have to prepare yourself for a rough week, but you also need to prepare to conceive another child. Faye is already old enough and you’re most likely going to give her a little sibling.

The first time Malleus was in heat already caught you off guard, but this time, you were ready. Besides knowing his sex patterns already, this new season was going to bring something new. Malleus’ draconic features showed no signs of disappearing and if his heat wasn’t sustained, he’s going to be very grumpy. You trust Lilia enough to look after your daughter. You could even see Malleus stare at his daughter while she got ready to leave. He’ll miss her, even if it was just a week.

“Yes, mama. I promise!” Faye hooked her small pinky around yours and she pecked your cheek. Sebek was already holding her bag while they waited by the door. Malleus looked at Lilia, eyes squinted as if to tell him something. The older fae just chuckled and nodded, “I got her, I got her.”

“Young Master, are you sure you’ll be alright on your own with the young mistress?” Sebek asked worriedly while he gripped the doorknob. It was a surprise to see his king in such a state, more reason for the knight to get worried. Malleus nodded, watching you approach him with Faye in your arms.

“Kiss papa bye-bye,” you said.

Faye pouted and hooked her arms around Malleus’ neck. Her father held her gently as she kissed his cheek. “I’ll have fun with Silver and Bebek but I’ll miss papa,” she admitted. Malleus smiled and placed his daughter down by using his tail, “I will be alright. After one week, you’re sleeping with your mother and I. Be obedient, am I understood?”

An overprotective father is scarier than a dragon if Silver and Sebek would ever compare.

“Yes, papa!” giggled Faye as she held Silver’s hand.

“We’ll be going now. See you in a week.” Lilia grinned while he ushered the two boys outside. You and Malleus stayed by the door, watching your daughter skip away while she held Silver and Sebek’s hands. “Call us if anything goes wrong okay? Don’t hesitate!” you called out. Lilia simply waved his hand at you while hearing Faye say, “Bebek, I want to pick fruit up trees again!” as their figures slowly disappeared from your view.

You sighed, already missing your daughter. And while you moved away from the door, it slammed shut loudly. Malleus’ hand on the door indicated that it was him who slammed it shut. Without you taking notice, you are now trapped between his body and the door. Your back faced him as his nose tickled your neck; his tongue slithered across your nape, the warmth of his tongue and the cold air sent shivers down your spine.

“Mal…” you inhaled, your hand holding onto his thigh while you arch your neck, “We just sent them off. They might come back…” came your quivering breath.

“Oh, they won’t come back.”

“What—”

Before you could even blink, you were thrown on the bed, dazed by the sudden shift of environment. From the living room, you’re now laying submissively on the bed. He towered over you, eyes narrowed, and glared at you so lustfully. “Wait—”

“I warned you, y/n.” The king crawled on top of you. His long tongue slithered across his lips, breath hitting your face as you started to pant in anticipation. The room grew hot. Your body felt like it was burning. Your legs rubbed against the sheets in dire need to be touched and fucked until you could no longer walk. Only he could make you feel this way. Your man.

“I will no longer hold back.”

And holding back he did not, indeed.

Gripping your neck, Malleus captured your lips in a hot, searing kiss. His tongue, with no hesitance, slithered inside your mouth and in desperation and temptation. Incapable of resisting your own muffled moans, and to keep yourself sane, you weakly gripped on his bicep and his wrist. He held you by your neck to keep you in place. It was his way of showing you dominance.

Breath was knocked out of your lungs almost immediately. To keep up with his addicting, electrifying, pace was enough to make you light-headed. With his knees being his support, his other hand roamed on your body. With just a tug of his finger, your clothes were discarded, ripped, on the floor. He was devouring you, really making you feel that you are his mate, his fucktoy for the day.

Moving from your lips to your neck — without even letting you have a moment’s breath — he sensed your pulsating veins. You could feel your heart beating everywhere; from your neck to your chest, and down to your cunt. You laid bare under him and you don’t even know. You felt lightheaded.

“M..Mal…” you panted.

He sucked and bit on every sensitive spot he knew would make you weak. As the rapid beast he is, he left marks, dark and bruising, at his wake. Littering your neck and your chest as his tongue flicked against your nipples. Roughly did he suck and tug with his teeth. He made them look swollen, indescribably sensitive. The hotter your body went, the more you wanted him to touch your throbbing clit already. You don’t know if the marks have satisfied him; it felt like he wanted to add more. To litter your body with hickeys that showed that you're His Highness, Draconia’s only. Waves of arousal hit you strongly as he descended to your navel.

“Shit,” he panted against your skin.

He finally stood upright, kneeling against your whorish spread legs. Your wet, glistening pussy is clear in his sight. He is hungry.

You were left under his gaze feeling so sensitive and aroused, any touch that lingered on your skin would leave goosebumps and shivers. “Mal—!” Just as you were calling out, he dove down to your cunt and latched on your clit. His lips did the work as he greedily sucked and nipped on your hardened clitoris. Your back involuntarily arched as you gripped on his horns. His hands kept your legs open. Choking out loud moans while he slithered his tongue inside your walls.

“M-Mal—..please..please! T-Too much—!” you gasped out.

It was too much, alright. Your cunt so red and wet, your hips shivering as he pushed his tongue in and out. Eating out your wetness with strings sticking and stretching from his lips to your cunt. He groaned with every tug you did on his horns. He was so good, too good, with his ability to pleasure you with his tongue alone. He was right. It was so rough. It was nothing like his first heat.

It was animalistic.

Your overly sensitive nub hardened the more he sucked. Malleus’ thumbs even spread your labia open for more access. You are vulnerable, stimulated, and submissive to him. It was all coming swiftly. You could’ve drenched the sheets with just your wetness alone. Cries of pleasure alone bounced around the bedroom walls along with the audible wet sounds that Malleus’ mouth made on your pussy. He thrusted his tongue, wiggled it inside you, hitting your spots more than you could handle. At this point, you’re shaking with your toes curling.

“I’m close! I’m close— I can’t b-breathe…!” you cried out with your body spasming. Subconsciously, you squirted just as he pulled away from your nub. Now, you’re too overstimulated for you to think straight. You panted at the intense orgasm you had. Your hazy vision looked at Malleus. He was licking your cum from his lips. “You’re ready.”

You couldn’t see his thick cock from your position. All you could do was watch; up until he flipped you onto your stomach with a pillow under your stomach to lift your hips. Your weight leaned on your knees while your arms — as weak as they are — lifted you enough to keep your head from the bed. “Malleus...wait, I’m not—”

He did not listen. Malleus rubbed his cock against your slit and without warning, he slammed into you, deeply. In one sharp thrust, he was balls deep inside you as you cried and gasped loudly. He hovered over you, pushing his hips further into yours. Your cunt was quivering from accommodating his thick cock. You have never felt so full.

“Malleus!..Nngh!”

You’re just where he wanted you to be. Under him, screaming in ecstasy, ready to take his seed. Letting him breed you until your pussy couldn’t hold his cum. And he wouldn’t stop even though it’s already spilling on the bed. Your walls devoured his cock greedily. It sucked him. You're still so tight even after giving birth years ago. To fuck you senseless would drive him mad.

That he did.

Pulling all the way out, Malleus pounded back into you. There was no mercy in his thrusts as he snapped his hips against your ass. He grunted at how you make him feel good. Breathy moans left his lips while you moaned under him. Each thrust was harder and rougher than the last. He was speeding up. One objective in his mind was to make you pregnant. It was just day one. His tail wrapped around your waist, lifting your ass higher for him to fuck you more relentlessly.

“You...take me so well,” he panted as he leaned his lips against your back. “Just hang in there. You’re doing so good…”

His cock grazed and hit just the right spots inside you; he was going to bruise your pussy with his roughness. You were growing addicted to the pleasure building up inside you. As you kept on moaning his name, his relentless thrust fueled you into absolute bliss. Fuck, you wouldn’t even know if you came again. The pleasure just never seems to seize.

His fingers crawled down to your hardened clit, rubbing them in circular motions which sent you twitching and biting down on the sheets. “Mal that’s too much!” you screamed in stimulation. Tears were already dripping down your cheeks. “Aah…! Fuck—!”

“I’m not stopping,” he growled, pounding repeatedly.

Skin slapping against skin was very evident now, the bed rocked under the both of you. You couldn’t even scream anymore, you shimmered down to whimpers and gasped. His deep groans seem to be more audible as you feel him coming closer to his orgasm. You’re trembling as he manhandles you. He really used you like his fleshlight. With a sharp thrust, you moaned loudly. Leaving your mouth hanging open as you squirted for the second, third, or was it the fourth, time.

Watching you erotically cum and stain the sheets just drove Malleus wild. It was beautiful. Seeing you filled up with his seed just urged him more. The tightness of your pussy just made him moan louder, pushing further into you as his pace grew erratic. “Take it, my queen.”

He panted, “Take all of my cum…!”

Malleus’ hips halted, ejaculating deep inside you while you’re left whimpering at his warm cum filling you up. You convulsed and continuously quivered. His thick semen already spilled out of you before he even pulled out. It felt amazing. It was so...fucking addicting. You tried to collect your breathing, left staring at the sheets as sweat ran down both your bodies. He finally pulled out, leaving you empty as you sighed in relief. Malleus watched as cum dripped down your thighs; he grew hard again.

Just as you were lifting yourself up, your husband flipped you onto your back, “You’re not going anywhere,” he smirked as he watched your eyes widen, “You won’t get pregnant in just one round.”

“Wait..wait.. Malleus let me breathe—!”

He ignored you again and sheathed himself back inside your vagina. “Mngh!”

“I’m s-still...sensitive!” You felt your clit pulsate, feeling like you want to cum again.

He moved again, just as relentless as the first round. With this position, he bit you, squeezed your breasts, kissed you, anything he could do to send you into overdrive, he did. Malleus did not let you rest. Hours and hours he bred you. At times where he’s calm, he would bring you a glass of water. Then it would proceed to another set of sex. Again, it was just and still day one. You have four more days before he’s completely satisfied.

When you started, the sun was up high, but now it was the moon that peeked through your window. It was finally the sign that Malleus was content for the night as he laid in bed in a heap of breath and sweat. You felt like passing out as you stared up at the ceiling. Your cunt was really full of his semen. “Are…” you whined, “...you done?”

“For now,” he smiled and pulled you into his arms. “We still have four more days.”

He kissed your nape as he kept you tight in his arms. You whined more, shifting your legs to make you comfortable. “I already feel pregnant…”

“Just think of Faye’s happiness once we give her a little sibling. I’m sure she’ll be delighted.”

You tiredly smiled, intertwining your fingers against Malleus’ larger hand on your stomach. Two little kids will be running around the castle soon. A happy Lilia Vanrouge would be spoiling the younger one. Sebek and Silver would have one of each Draconia child to look after. And… probably another one to come after that if Malleus would ever come to heat again in the future years.

That is what welcomed you as Mrs. Draconia.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #silver twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #sebek zigvolt #diasomnia #diasomnia x reader #nsfvv #twisted wonderland scenarios #night raven college

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ratquesadilla · 2 years

Text

3005 (chapter 1)

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x fem! mitchell! oc

word count: 956

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41505768

“it’s an existential thing”

a story where the return of north island's resident player leaves a girl with a lot of influence in a predicament.

chapter 2 - series masterlist - full masterlist

----

when she was younger everyone assumed she would grow out of it. her compulsive need to be around the people she loved. it wasn’t because she thought something bad would happen to them, or herself, she just needed to be there.

maybe her father was to blame. bringing her to the hard deck every chance he could, exposing her to all types of people. keeping her around bradley and carole as much as possible.

it never had to be anyone specific, just someone she cared about, and her father was never that someone. he couldn’t bring himself to separate her from the bradshaws or the kazanskys, and he couldn’t put her through relocating every couple of years because he pissed off another admiral. she knew that he loved her, she never doubted it for a second. even when she was younger she had faith in him. she had faith that all roads would lead to rome.

that is, if rome was a beach town inhabited by familiar faces and navymen that would rather be shipped off to middle of nowhere america than agree with him.

and rome had one thing that he could never replace. her.

————

the hard deck was busy, sweaty, and sticky. “there’s your beer mister buck, do you want to start a tab or pay now?” i asked as i handed the elderly man in front of me his drink.

“i’ll start a tab,” he said as he handed me his card. “any news on when your old man will be back in town.”

“soon i’d assume.” i replied. “hondo texted me this morning letting me know that admiral cain wasn’t too happy with one of his schemes and wanted to sack him.”

“how that boy isn’t out of the navy yet blows my mind.” he joked, sliding away from the bar and returning to the group of vets in the corner. i returned to the glasses i was cleaning. meticulously stacking them on the shelf under the bar. the attachment issues weren’t too much of an issue, but the neat freak issues were. how i managed rush hour in the bar was a mystery to everyone that knew me.

a pair of blue eyes greeted me as i rose from my glass organizing. before the mysterious man opened his mouth i pointed to the sign behind me. he had a look to him, one i’d seen in a younger more arrogant rooster years ago. “don’t worry, i know my manners.” he said. making sure to tip the corner of an imaginary cowboy hat down.

“if you were a real cowboy you’d know that you wouldn’t be able to wear that in a bar.” i replied, trying to suppress a smile.

“good thing i’m not a real cowboy, never got the hang of horses.” i caught a glimpse of the silver chain underneath his shirt. that combined with the aviators tucked into his collar gave away allegiance to the navy very quick. his “look at me, i get girls” smile told me everything i needed to know.

“if you aren’t gonna order something i’m afraid i won’t be able to give you any more of my time. there are paying customers to attend to.”

“i’m not here to order,” he said. “i’m here to ask you out.”

“i’m flattered but theres at least 2 men you’d have to go through before i would give you my number.” i responded while leaning over the bar to gracefully grab his sunglasses.

“and who would those men be?” he asked. i could tell he thought i was playing hard to get, which i was. it’s fun, sue me.

“i have a feeling you’ll find out soon enough.” i said as i placed the glasses on the shelf above my head. “i’m leaving now jimmy! my shifts over!” i shouted to the man in the kitchen as i began towards the door.

————

the house was cold, it always was. carole liked it that way. i liked to think that keeping the temperature sub-zero would make her ghost-self happy. almost everything about the place was the same, down to the smallest details. the paintings untouched, the trinkets on the mantle unbothered, the plants happy and healthy.

it had been years since her death but the door to her room stayed closed. bradleys room was virtually untouched since her last visit, just in case he came back. my room was the only one in the house that had been upgraded. i’d swapped my twin for a queen and replaced the posters with paintings.

i pulled out my phone to text bradley.

are you back? i saw a top gun boy at the hard deck earlier.

got called back for some mystery mission. is it okay if i stay at the house?

yeah obv, i own it but its still your house.

is the key still under the doormat? i don’t know what time i’ll be over.

bradley bradshaw if you bring a girl home on your first day back so help me god i will find a way to get you kicked out of the navy.

i won’t.

i’m not joking.

cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.

he came in around midnight. i imagined carole scolding him for staying out late when he had an early morning. when bradley was back for top gun she would try her best to stay awake until he got home. even when she was too weak to get out of bed. i’d lived in the house alone for years but the emptiness was still strange. some days i woke up expecting carole to be there, watering her plants or watching her tv shows, but she never was.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #pete maverick mitchell #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #penny benjamin #top gun fanfic #hangman fanfic #jake seresin fanfic #jake hangman seresin x fem! mitchell! oc #pete maverick mitchell x daughter oc #mickey fanboy garcia #javy coyote machado #bradley rooster bradshaw x sister oc

49 notes · View notes

simpforhoon · 3 years

Text

just you. (p.js) *ೃ༄

pairing: soft dom! jay × female reader

genre: smut, fluff, soulmate au! kind of angsty it has a happy ending I swear (praise, making out, protected sex, oral (f-receiving)).

summary: in a world where everyone gets the name of their soulmate tattooed on their wrists when they turn 18, finding out your best friend is your soulmate was not how you planned your 18th birthday to go. now, what’s so bad about that you might ask? you see, jay despises the thought of soulmates. but maybe he doesn’t despise them so much when it comes to you.

please note, this work is purely that of fiction. and not meant to represent what the enhypen members are like in real life.

A/N: guys no why am I so soft,, anyway I’ve been wanting to write this for a while now, so I hope you enjoy!! and I'm reposting this now, as this didnt get a lot of notes on my old account cause of all the reporting and stuff!

word count: 3.4k

warnings: mentions of heartbreak, crying, mentions of food.

1 week ago

you bit your nails as you paced up and down your room, a nervous habit you’d picked up in your junior year of high school whilst dealing with the tremendous stress and pressure school put on you. well lucky for you, you had graduated now and your 18th birthday was just around the corner. specifically, exactly a week from now.

your best friend jay sat on your bed staring at you with amusement written all over his face as he quietly observed you, before moving up to stop you and pull your hands away from your face. “you’re going to wear yourself out” he mumbled softly, pulling you to sit next to him and rubbing your shoulder in a comforting manner.

“I know I know, I’m just nervous, what if they’re all the way on the other side of the world? or even worse, what if they’re someone I know??” the panicked expression on your face was seemingly too much for jay to handle as before you knew it, he had almost rolled off your bed, laughing his ass off at you.

you see, your “dearest” best friend jay never believed in soulmates. he himself never actually got a name on his wrist, a sign that his soulmate had not reached the age to get theirs. to say he was ecstatic would be an understatement as he was at a party that very night, hooking up with a random girl before going over to your house the next morning with a massive hangover and a sullen expression.

it hurt you to see him that way, hooking up with random people, praying that he wouldnt run into his soulmate. and it hurt even more when you thought of how his soulmate was probably so excited to meet him even if they didn’t know him yet.

if only you knew where you would be a week later, wishing it was you who never met him.

present day

the time on your phone read 11:57, and jay had shown up to your house at exactly 11:30, punctual as always, giving up his usual saturday night parties to spend the night before your special day with you instead. he held your hand in his, one thumb running up and down the expanse of your knuckles soothingly, the only thing grounding you in the tense moments before what was basically the biggest moment of your life. your eyes never met his once, only flickering from the clock to your wrist every few seconds, almost as if it would appear before time if you stared long enough.

12:00 a.m.

it was almost as if everything stopped in that moment as the words appeared on your skin. the crickets stopped chirping, that one car alarm outsode your house stopped beeping and both you and Jay stopped breathing, even if it was just for a few seconds. one by one, letter by letter, black ink slowly trailed up the soft skin on your clean wrist, marking your skin for the rest of eternity. you watched with bated breath as tbe letters curved their way into your skin, into your soul.

“P-A-R-K” looks like your soulmate would have the same last name as your best friend. “J-O-N-” that was when the realisation of what was about to happen dawned upon you. “no, no, no, no” was all you could think. “this wasn’t supposed to happen”

meeting jay’s eyes for a split second, you could see the shock on his face, the same shock you knew was written all over your face at that very moment. yanking your hand out of his warmer one, you stared at the 2 words displayed on your wrist. “park jongseong” you whispered as a one lone tear ran down your cheek, falling to you chin before disappearing into the soft material of your sweater.

this prompted jay to push up his own sleeve, the words that seem to have appeared on his wrist confirmed what you both already knew by that point. jay park, your best friend since you were 5, your rock, your everything, was your soulmate. if the situation were anything but this, you would have been jumping for joy, ecstatic that your soulmate was the man you’d grown up with your whole life. but unfortunately, that was not the case.

“_______” he whispered, voice hoarse as he held your hand in his again. gripping it tightly this time so you wouldn’t be able to let go this time. not that you wanted to anyway. “jay” you whispered back, attempting to smile at him, despite the tears that were threatening to overflow at any moment. “I-I need time to think” he said, so softly, his eyes full of nothing but remorse. “I understand jay, take your time, don’t rush okay?” you replied, squeezing his hand in reassurance. he wistfully smiled at you one last time as he pushed himself off your bed and walked out of your bedroom, closing the door with a small ‘click’, leaving you alone in the darkness of your room, mind racing and wondering what were you were going to do with this newfound information.

you fell asleep after much tossing and turning, your mind full of nothing but jay and his name that was now tattooed into the inside of your wrist. you were woken up by the bright smile of your parents, you mother holding a plate of pancakes and wishing you a happy birthday. the sight alone was enough to make you burst into tears as you wrapped your arms around her, seeking her familiar scent and comfort after the rough night you had. your parents seemed shocked, but did not press you to open up, wrapping their arms around you as they attempted to comfort you.

your mom was no foolish woman, as she seems to have caught on to what was bothering you on your special day. “its about your soulmate isn’t it?” she asked as she placed a glass of your favourite chocolate smoothie in front of you, wiping her hands on her apron. you looked up at her, disbelief written all over your face as she chuckled at you. “how did you know?” you asked as she smiled slyly at you. “I have my ways, and besides, I’m your mother” she replied with a wink. you groaned, dramatically resting your head on the counter as she laughed and gave in. “I saw jay walk out of your room last night with tears streaming down his face, and considering you woke up crying too, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what went down there”.

“you should talk it out with him sweetie, he’s not just your soulmate, he’s your best friend. despite how he feels about this whole fate thing, I’m sure the both of you will be okay.” her words reassured you as you grabbed your backpack, and walked through your front door. not even 2 minutes later you heard the biggest scream and you were tackled into a hug. giggling, you wrapped your arms around the taller boy as he squeezed you tightly. “happy birthday ______!” he said as he let go of you and continued your walk to school. “thanks sunoo” you said, smiling at the younger boy who had the biggest grin on his face.

“soooooo” he began, looking at you with an expectant expression on his face. you pursed your lips, already predicting the question that was due to escape his mouth any second from now. “jay” you said, cutting him off before he could even open his mouth. “JAY?!?!!?” he said, a little too loudly, mouth agape as he processed the information. you shrugged as he linked his arm with yours, understanding that you didnt want to talk about it.

luckily, no one pressed you about your soulmate for the rest of the day, warded off by sunoo’s glare the moment they looked like they were going to ask. you sat next to jay in all your classes, the atmosphere tense and awkward between the two of you. everyone seemed to have figured our what happened by that alone, your normally boisterous voices muted and soft. you went out after school with sunoo and riki, your mood heightened by the laughs and jokes of the two bickering boys.

when you got home, the house was eerily quiet, your parents nowhere in sight, all the lights turned off save the one in your living room. and there on the sleek grey sofa sat Jay, looking down at his hands as he anxiously played around with the rings he always wore. your footsteps alerted him of your presence, as he shot up off your sofa to greet you with a crooked smile on his face, black hair sticking up in every direction.

you smiled at him, already preparing yourself for the worst, as he walked towards you. “your parents have gone out, they handed me the keys and told me to come and talk to you if I wanted, and-” he cut himself off in the middle of his sentence, taking a deep breath and holding your hand. here goes nothing he thought. “I want to try. this whole soulmate thing I mean. maybe i wouldnt be this way if it was anyone else, but it’s you, my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you.” he mumbled out the last part, but it was still clear enough for you to hear. you couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face at his words, his own face breaking out into a grin at your expression. you reached up on your tippy toes to wrap your arms around his neck as his hands went around your waist.

he buried his face in your hair, your soft vanilla scent calming his racing heart, and that was when he realised how much you really meant to him. he loved when you would always being him snacks after soccer practice, he loved when you let him lay his head on your lap and you ran your hands through his hair, he loved seeing the expressions you made when you ate his food, he loved you.

“I made something for you” he said, pulling away from your embrace, leading you to your kitchen and making you sit down on the counter. he grabbed a plate of your favourite pasta and a fork before lifting up a mouthful and holding it out to feed it to you. you smiled, wrapping your lips around the fork as the flavours exploded in your mouth. “oh my gosh, this is good, you’ve really outdone yourself.” he smiled at the complement before pressing a kiss to your cheek and muttering a little “happy birthday love”, leaving your face feeling hot and an uncontrollable smile on your face.

the rest of the evening went by in hin feeding you food and taking a few notes of it himself, lots of little cheek kisses, before the two of you settled down on the couch to watch a movie. it seemed like jay had gotten over his awkwardness as he pulled you to sit between his legs the moment the movie started. you looked back at him in shock, wondering when he got so bold before he pressed a kiss to your lips and told you to focus on the screen.

it might not have been the perfect first kiss, but it was with jay and that was enough. he played with your hair throughout the movie, and moved it aside at one point, pressing little kisses along the expanse of your neck. it was when he landed his lips on one particular spot that you let out a little noise, one you never even knew you could make that made him sit up a little straighter.

it was almost as if a switch flipped within him as he tightened his grip around your waist, one hand slipping up your hoodie to caress the skin near your waist. “I didn’t know you could make such pretty noises baby” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “well i didn’t know i could either” you whispered back, the realisation of what was about to happen making your body feel like it was on fire.

“are you sure you want this? we don’t have to do anything you dont want to sweetheart” he said, pulling away with a kiss to your cheek. you shifted so that you were facing him, legs wrapped around his waist and you reached your hands up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m sure jay, theres no one I’d rather do this with than you.” that was all the affirmation he needed, as within seconds you were being dragged to your bedroom by an overexcited jay.

he pressed you up against your room door, hands coming up to lift your thighs and wrap them around his waist, your core meeting his very obvious bulge. taking advantage of the gasp that left you, he allowed his tongue to skip into your mouth, taking control of every aspect of the kiss. pulling away, he brought you to your bed, gently letting you down onto the mattress, and reaching up to pull your hoodie off you.

“so beautiful” he whispered as he reached behind you to pull your bra off, before lifting his own arms to pull his own shirt off, leaving his body on display for you. just for you. he reached down to tug one of your nipples into his mouth, gently sucking and wrapping his tongue around the sensitive bud, his actions leaving your mouth open in a silent moan.

within minutes, both of you were left completely naked as jay continued to trail his lips down your body, pressing little kisses to your inner thigh before his mouth finally met your core, the smallest motion of his lips leaving you breathless and squirming. “stay still sweetheart, good girls don’t move around so much”. his words sent vibrations spreading throughout your body, not doing anything to help with the heat that was coursing through your veins.

his tongue delved in and out of your dripping hole, one of his hands rubbing your clit while the other held your legs open for him. “jay- i- I’m gonna-” but he was gone the moment the words fell from your mouth. and he was a sight to see. your juices mixed with his, drool and spit dripped down his chin, as he ran his tongue over his lips with a smirk on his face.

“oh so the baby wants to cum? don’t worry love, I’m going to make you feel so good”. he reached into his jacket and pulled out a condom before rolling it on and lining himself I with your entrance. he grasped your chin gently, pulling you up to look at him and planting a loving kiss on your lips. “I love you so much sweetheart, so so much” he whispered, pulling away from your lips. “I love you too jay” you said back, watching as he smiled once, before intertwining your hands and then, pushing himself into you.

nothing had ever felt as good in that moment as he gently, softly pushed himself inside. the feeling was euphoric, having your soulmate inside you in such an intimate manner. your bodies moulding together perfectly, bursts of colour lighting up the back of your eyelids as your eyes closed at the feeling of him in you. he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, not wanting to hurt you. but at your signal, he began moving faster, groans and moans escaping both your lips, finding pleasure and love in each other.

it didn’t take long for you to reach your high at all, his length hitting you in all the right places, leading you to ride out your high much faster than you expected, jay following soon after. he finished inside the condom, reaching out to pull it off and throw it away, before walking to your bathroom and grabbing a wet cloth to clean you up with.

he was greeted with the sight of your tired smile as he returned, gently cleaning you before tossing the rag and gathering you up in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “does this mean you’re mine now?” he asked, reaching down to bury his head in your hair, his hands absent-mindedly tracing shapes and figures on your bare shoulder. “it does if it means you’re mine too”. he smiled at your response, pulling the blanket over the two of you as you drifted off to sleep in the arms of the one person who would stay with you forever.

thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you drank enough water today! ♡♡♡

#enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #kpop smut #kpop

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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

Text

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.2

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

The BEAUTIFUL art pieces were done by @clownwry and @elishevart ! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️💋

ch.1 - ch.3

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was way more nervous than he was letting on.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Mabel’s company, but she was practically a stranger, and keeping a random girl in his house that was located in the middle of the woods was fishy and Ford couldn’t help but feel like it was illegal. But he couldn’t leave her out in the snow and send her on her way to find her home and family, so he decided to keep her warm or healthy, simply because it was the right thing to do.

But then she said she had no parents to call. Only a brother, who was lost, too. Ford can remember the old rule: If you’re lost, stay where you are until you are found. So he then decided that she could stay here until her brother found her, which should be by morning at the latest.

Still, he felt uneasy, so once Mabel was settled in front of the TV, Ford excused himself and went into the kitchen to make a phone call. There was only one man who would have better judgement in this situation than him.

The phone rang a few times. Ford checked his watch to make sure it was a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t Sunday, was it? But then the ringing stopped. “Howdy! This here Fiddleford McGucket.”

“Hey there, buddy.” Ford smiled to himself at hearing that cheerful voice. “How have you been?”

“Stanford Pines! Good t’hear from ya!” Fiddleford cheered. “M’just fine, just fine! How are ya?! Ya haven’t gotten eaten by monsters yet, have ya?” He laughed, making his old friend chuckle along.

“No no, I’m alright.” Ford almost brought up the reason he called, but then he remembered something very important to Fiddleford. “How are Emma-May and Tater?”

“OH! They’re doin’ great! We’re all very happy n’ doin’ well! Ya won’t believe how big Tate’s gotten since ya last saw him! He’s already crawlin’!”

“Wow, that's great to hear.” Ford sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Has he said his first words yet?”

“No, not quite. Actually, he’s extremely quiet. Not a lot of baby-babble.” Fiddleford chuckled. “The doctor says that’s perfectly normal. Tate’s so smart, he’s reachin’ for specific colors n’ such, n’ ya can tell he’s thinkin’ a lot n’ knows what’s goin’ on, he just got nothin’ t’say.”

“I was very shy when I was young.” Ford commented casually. He didn't feel like mentioning why. “If Tate is anything like either of his parents he’s very intelligent.”

“Oh, he’s so much like both of us it’s scary. Ya know Emma-May, so clever n’ quiet n’ such. Tate’s got all that. But he already looks so much like me! But he’s got his mama’s hair! N’ Santy Claus brought ‘im this fun little fishin’ game where ya fish for plastic fish with a pole with a magnet on it, n’ he loves it! I can’t wait to take ‘im fishin’ when he’s big enough! Ya really outta give yourself a break n’ come down for a visit, he’d move to see his Uncle Ford again.”

Ford’s face felt hot. “Perhaps. Spring is when a lot of anomalies are active and breeding, so i would prefer not to miss that, but maybe I could visit for a weekend before that…”

“Well, no pressure, I won’t assume anythang until ya tell me to, just know there’s always a bed for ya here.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford. The same for you and your family. The clean air will do everyone some good.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Fiddleford sighed happily and perked up. “So! Whatcha callin’ for? Not that I’m not happy just t’chat, but ya never call.”

Ford laughed and shrugged to himself. “I suppose I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No need t’be sorry, Stanford, just wanna know what’s up.”

“Well, I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“Shoot.”

“Um… well…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to tell him this. “I heard some unusual sounds outside today…”

“What kind of unusual sounds?”

“Cracks, like lightning. And some faint yelling.” Ford answered. “I thought it might be a tree branch or a new anomaly to catalogue, but when I opened the door a young girl was standing there in the snow with no coat.”

“Heavens! Is she alright?!”

“She’s okay, no frostbite. She was cold, but after sitting by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and changing into some dry clothes, she’s okay now.”

“Well, good.”

“So of course I brought her in. I tried to call her parents, she probably got lost playing��”

“Sure.”

“... but she says she doesn’t have any parents.”

“Oh.” Fiddleford sighed. “Oh. Now, wait, are ya sure she didn’t just say that so ya wouldn’t call?”

Ford chuckled and said, “I first thought that too, but she looked too sad to be lying.”

“Okay, I see. Does she got somebody ya can call?”

“She says she has a brother, but he was out there, too. So he is probably out there looking for her and therefore nowhere near a phone.”

“Fair enough, okay. So, I reckon y’all are waitin’ for him t’come ‘round.”

“Yup.”

“Well sounds to me like you’ve handled this all pretty well.” Fiddleford said confidently.

“You think so?” Ford asked. “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m missing something. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Nonsense, buddy, you’re doin’ great.” Fiddleford assured. “Look here, ya can’t just leave a young gurl out in the snow t’try t’find her way home...”

“I agree.”

“... so ya really got one option n’ that’s t’keep an eye on her n’ let her in as a guest. N’ ya tried t’call, but nothin’. The best thang ya can do right now is be there for this lil’lady n’ just be kind t’her. N’ if nobody comes for her by mornin’, why don’t ya go into town n’ see if anybody knows her, then they can help y’all out.”

Ford nodded, then remembered that his best friend couldn’t see it, so he said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“You’re welcome. N’ hey, are ya okay?” He asked seriously.

“Yes, yes I’m okay. I just want to make sure I do this right.”

“O’course. I understand. Ya want me t’come down there n’ give a hand?”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure Mabel will find her brother in the morning.”

“Mabel, huh? Well, if y’all don’t, please call me. N’ even if ya do find her brother, call me. Keep me updated.”

“I will. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“Anytime, Stanford.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Mr. Ford gave Mabel the remote for the old TV and went into the kitchen, she decided to use her awesome detective skills to figure out what year it was. If it was before Grunkle Stan lived here and opened the Mystery Shack, she must be pretty far back in time. But she had no way of knowing if it was 1999 or 2005 or the 50s.

The TV was old, but so was Grunkle Stan’s in her time. So Mr. Ford could have had this TV for a long time and didn’t want to replace it.

Okay, so when was the TV made? Mabel didn’t know. Dipper would have known.

Okay, Grunkle Stan mentioned watching TV when he was a kid once or twice. So at least Mabel was when Stan was a kid, okay.

Mabel turned the TV on and it was in color. Okay, so she wasn’t too far back in time. But the TV was playing a commercial for clear skin. The picture was gritty and all the people in it had puffy hair and long socks and oh my god was that woman wearing legwarmers?! Mabel grinned at seeing her favorite fashion on TV, but then her face dropped. When was she?

She tapped her chin and tried to think of how to know the date without being suspicious. She could ask Mr. Ford, but that might be suspicious. Mabel decided to start flicking through channels to try to guess what year she was in based on what was airing. A lot of shows were about cowboys, space, or game shows. Huh. Okay.

All the TV shows were definitely older. Nothing her dad would watch from when he was a kid, so if Mabel had to guess by everyone’s crazy air, the cheesy TV shows, and the music occasionally playing, she was in the 70s.

Huh. Okay. But she needed an exact year. So Mabel turned off the TV, saw an old radio on a desk, and turned it on to listen.

“... cuz it’s cold doesn’t mean you can't boogie, folks! So grab someone you wanna get warm with, turn up the music, and get your bodies warm in the coolest way possible! Here’s Night Fever, by the Bee Gees!”

Mabel grinned at the disco music. Her personal favorite song from these guys was More Than a Woman, but Night Fever would do. For a moment Mabel forgot her mission, jumped off the couch and left the blanket behind, and in the over-sized gray t-shirt Mr. Ford gave her while her clothes were drying, she danced along to the music, singing the chorus since those were the only words she knew.

“When you reach out for me. Yeah, and the feelin' is right,

Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it! Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it!”

Mabel laughed at herself as she spun around in her socks and tried to do the point-and-hype dance she didn’t know the name to, but everyone did it when a disco song played.

Little did she know that Ford had returned to check on her, and was smiling at her as she shook her hips and waved her hair around and had fun. He leaned against the doorway and planned to let her dance in peace, but when she did a spin and saw him, she grinned and took his hand. “C’mon, Mr. Ford, come dance with me!”

Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no! I can’t dance!”

“You got two legs that aren’t broken?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can dance! C’mon!” Mabel encouraged, let him go when they were both in the middle of the room, and she started to dance again. “Don’t make me dance alone!” She even pulled an evil move and gave him puppy eyes. Rude.

Ford smiled slyly at her and hesitantly copied her boogie moves. It was true that Ford never liked to dance, but there was no one around but Mabel, and though he had only known her for an hour or more, he was sure she would never make fun of him.

And he was right.

“Wow! Look at you, Mr. I-Can’t-Dance! Yeah!” Mabel hopped on the couch, standing, and took Ford’s hand. “Here, I’ll spin you!”

Ford laughed and allowed it, doing a single spin, but then scooping her in his arms to dip her and then let her down, making her laugh as they continued to dance.

“Alright alright, you crazy cats, that was Night Fever by the Bee Gees! It's a snowy day here in the heart of Oregon, with snow flurries coming in harder all night, but it should clear up by morning and be a fun day to go out and play! The date is January 26th, 1978 in case you gotta write a check or mail a thank you note to a friend or family member. I’m still writing letters for Christmas! We’ll be right back with some of your favorites after a word or two from our sponsors, so don’t go anywhere!”

Mabel stared at the radio. “Wow, 1978.” She breathed. Her parents were only kids right now, maybe only six or seven-years-old. Wow.

Ford chuckled. “I know, I’m still in the bad habit of writing ‘77.”

Mabel realized her mistake, but was grateful her host misunderstood her. “Me too.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dinner. How about some ramen noodles?”

“Yes, please! Can we play a game after we eat?”

“Sure. I don’t have many board games, but I do have a deck of cards.”

“Do you know any card tricks?!”

“A few.” Ford admitted, wiggling his fingers. “There are some advantages to having more fingers than average.”

Mabel grinned up at him and followed him to the kitchen for dinner.

#GF #fanfiction #gravity falls #gravity falls au #timestuck au #ford and mabel bonding #Fiddleford McGucket #dancing #night fever #snow day

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