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urdreamydoodles · 6 days ago

Note

Hi, do you have a request? If so, could you make Bane and Scarecrow (separately) if their crush confesses his feelings to them? (You can add other villains if you want) have a nice day :D

Bat-Villains x Reader

You confess your feelings to them

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

Being in my Batman-Comics era, this made me so happy, thank you! Hope you like it <3

Joker

- Confessing your feelings to the Joker is a feat in itself. His mind is a labyrinth, twisted and sharp, and he hardly ever makes it easy for anyone to get close. So, when you manage to muster up the courage and spill your heart out, he’s taken aback. His smile is unnervingly wide, but there’s a flicker in his eyes—a flash of curiosity and something darker that makes you wonder if he actually reciprocates.

- Joker’s interest in you grows even more as he realizes you’re different from his typical followers. You aren’t afraid of him, nor are you drawn in by just his dangerous allure. You’ve seen past his twisted laughter and manic acts, and you still want him. This intrigues him, even bothers him a little. How could anyone see anything in him other than madness? Yet, there you are, looking at him like he’s human, and it’s both terrifying and intoxicating to him.

- He teases you relentlessly after your confession, never letting you forget the vulnerability you showed him. “Oh, darling, you’re just too sweet for me,” he’d purr with a devilish grin, leaning in way too close. He loves watching you squirm, enjoying every bit of control he has over your emotions, almost like a game. But deep down, there’s a hint of admiration. You’ve got guts, and he respects that.

- The Joker’s way of showing affection is, naturally, unconventional. Sometimes it’s an offhanded compliment; other times, it’s a madcap scheme he drags you into, letting you play a part just because he wants you close. When he pulls you into his schemes, he’s almost like a kid showing off his toys, reveling in your reactions—whether it’s awe, excitement, or even horror. It thrills him to know he has that effect on you.

- Every so often, though, you catch him staring at you with a look that’s almost soft, a dangerous vulnerability creeping into his gaze. He covers it up quickly with a quip or an exaggerated gesture, but you know you saw something real. It gives you hope, even though you know that being with him will always mean walking the tightrope between love and chaos.

- Over time, Joker starts to grow possessive. It’s subtle at first—a smirk when he sees others vying for your attention, a warning look thrown at anyone who gets too close. But before long, he’s unapologetically possessive, wanting you at his side, sometimes even in situations where he wouldn’t usually bring someone along. “You’re mine,” he’ll say with a dark, playful tone that sends chills down your spine.

- Joker will never admit he has feelings for you outright, but in his way, he shows it. The more he involves you in his world, the closer he brings you to his madness, the clearer it becomes. To him, love is chaos, control, and the thrill of having someone he can warp and twist yet who willingly stays. You’ve become his favorite muse, his inspiration, the one who reminds him that even monsters can find someone to care for, in their own twisted way.

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley is surprisingly giddy when you confess your feelings to her. She’s spent her life surrounded by people who see her as a joke or Joker’s sidekick, so to have someone see her as her own person—and even like her for it—makes her heart swell. She’s blushing like crazy, giggling with delight, and probably wraps you in a tight hug before you can even process her reaction.

- As bubbly and playful as she is, Harley takes your confession seriously. She’s been through enough heartbreak and knows what it’s like to be used or ignored, so your affection means the world to her. She’ll ask you so many questions, wanting to know every little thing you feel, why you like her, and what you think of her quirks. She wants to believe it’s real, but part of her is scared it’s too good to be true.

- Harley is incredibly affectionate, and once she knows you care for her, she’s not shy about showing it. Expect surprise hugs from behind, spontaneous kisses, and laughter-filled moments. She’s like a whirlwind of emotions, sometimes leaving you breathless with her enthusiasm. She loves to make you laugh and will go out of her way to cheer you up, even if it means pulling out her silliest antics.

- She also starts to show a fiercely protective side, a side of her that you usually only see when Joker’s around. Harley may be quirky and fun, but she’s also a skilled fighter, and she won’t let anyone mess with you. She’ll even pick fights with people who look at you the wrong way, shooting you a grin afterward and saying, “Nobody messes with my sweetie and gets away with it!”

- Despite her tough exterior, Harley is vulnerable with you in a way she rarely allows herself to be. She’ll open up about her insecurities, her past, and her struggles with self-worth, trusting that you won’t judge her. She’s scared of being abandoned, of not being enough, and it’s clear in the way she clings to you a bit tighter than she would anyone else. It’s her way of telling you she doesn’t want to lose you.

- Harley’s loyalty is unwavering. Once she’s fallen for you, you’re as good as family to her. She’ll bring you little gifts, things that remind her of you, and surprise you with thoughtful gestures. Whether it’s a flower she picked up or a silly trinket she found, each one is given with a smile and a “This reminded me of ya!”

- With Harley, every day is unpredictable, a mix of chaos and love. She might drag you into wild adventures or plan the most unconventional dates, but through it all, she’s committed to making you feel cherished. She’ll never hide her feelings for you, wearing her heart on her sleeve and reminding you every chance she gets that you’re special to her, her own little piece of sanity in a world gone mad.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- When you first confess your feelings to Poison Ivy, she’s quiet, studying you with that piercing, assessing gaze of hers. She doesn’t let emotions cloud her judgment easily, and she needs to be sure your words are genuine. But when she realizes your feelings are sincere, there’s a rare, subtle softening in her expression. Her walls don’t crumble easily, but for you, she might just let one or two down.

- Ivy’s affection is a quiet, powerful force. She’s not overly demonstrative, but her way of showing she cares is through small gestures that speak volumes. A soft touch of her hand against yours, vines that subtly wrap around you protectively, or even a single, precious flower left for you in a place she knows you’ll find. Every gesture from her is intentional, calculated, and rare, making it all the more precious.

- One of her favorite ways to spend time with you is in her greenhouse. She’ll invite you to work alongside her, teaching you about the plants she loves as if they’re old friends. Sometimes, she’ll even let you help nurture the rarest ones, a gesture of trust few ever receive. She finds it soothing to have you nearby, feeling like a kindred spirit amid the chaotic Gotham world.

- Ivy’s protective nature is fierce. She sees the world as cruel and selfish, and anyone who hurts you quickly becomes a target of her wrath. If anyone so much as tries to harm you, they’ll find themselves facing the fury of the natural world—thorns, vines, and deadly spores at Ivy’s command. But with you, she’s gentle, careful, almost reverent, knowing that you see the good in her that others overlook.

- Ivy isn’t one for typical romance, but she enjoys creating beauty just for you. She might grow a unique plant in your favorite color, a species found nowhere else, just to show her affection in her own way. It’s her version of saying “I love you” without needing the words. And sometimes, when she catches you admiring her creations, she allows herself a rare, genuine smile.

- Though Ivy is usually serious and somewhat reserved, she has a playful side she only shows around you. Sometimes, she’ll playfully summon vines to brush against you or weave a flower crown for you, a small smile tugging at her lips as she watches your reaction. In these quiet moments, you can see the softness she hides from the rest of the world.

- Ivy is drawn to you because of your calmness and respect for the natural world, something she finds rare in Gotham. You’re like a breath of fresh air, and she finds herself surprisingly at peace around you. She might not be able to put it into words, but she knows that being with you makes her feel connected in a way she hasn’t before, making you her safe harbor in the storm of her mission.

Bane

- When you confess your feelings to Bane, his reaction is one of quiet surprise. He’s not used to hearing confessions of love—respect, fear, yes, but love is something rare in his world. He’s silent for a moment, his intense gaze holding yours, and there’s a flicker of something softer behind his usual stoic expression. For a man like him, vulnerability is dangerous, but with you, he’s willing to risk it.

- Bane’s love language is protection and physical presence. He doesn’t rely much on words but instead lets his actions speak for him. He’ll always be by your side, a solid and unbreakable presence, making sure you feel safe in his care. It’s his way of telling you that as long as he’s around, nothing in this world will harm you.

- Though he may seem intimidating, Bane has a gentle side he only shows to you. He’ll be mindful of his strength, his touch light and cautious, always making sure he doesn’t hurt you. If you’re ever in danger, however, his calm façade drops instantly, and his fierce, unyielding side comes forward. In his eyes, protecting you is non-negotiable.

- Bane loves sharing stories with you about his life and past, opening up in a way he rarely does with anyone else. His voice is deep and steady as he recounts his upbringing, his struggles, and his victories, wanting you to understand who he is beyond the mask of strength. He doesn’t hold back, trusting that you’ll accept him, scars and all.

- Despite his hard exterior, Bane has a surprisingly romantic side. He might bring you something small but meaningful, like a flower he picked from a rare spot he found on his travels, or a trinket that reminds him of you. He isn’t vocal about his affection, but each gesture is thoughtful and sincere, a sign of the care he holds for you.

- Bane admires your calm, composed nature, finding it a perfect balance to his intense personality. With you, he feels at ease in a way he never thought possible. You’re a reminder of the peace he’s always sought but never quite found until now. Sometimes, he’ll sit in quiet contemplation with you, enjoying the stillness of your presence.

- In private, Bane allows himself to be more vulnerable, letting down his guard and showing you his softer side. He might even let you touch his face, something he rarely allows anyone else to do, leaning into your touch with closed eyes as if grounding himself. In these moments, you’re the only one who sees the man beneath the mask, the one who loves you fiercely and would do anything to keep you safe.

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- When you confess your feelings to Jonathan Crane, it surprises him. He's so consumed by his own dark philosophies and fear experiments that he's not used to genuine affection. He looks at you, studying your face as if you’re another psychological puzzle to solve. But he sees no ulterior motive in your eyes, and, though he rarely shows emotion, there’s a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze.

- Jonathan expresses affection in a rather unconventional way. Instead of typical romance, he offers you pieces of his twisted intellect. He might discuss his latest experiments or philosophical thoughts with you, valuing your opinion in a way he seldom does with anyone else. If he asks you to assist him with his research, it's his odd way of showing trust and letting you into his world.

- Crane finds comfort in your calm and composed nature. For a man who thrives on fear and chaos, your grounded presence is a rare stability. He’ll often sit in silence with you, just observing or talking quietly about his theories. The quiet moments you share become a reprieve from the relentless psychological battles he wages with Gotham.

- The Scarecrow isn’t one to be overly affectionate, but he shows a dark protectiveness toward you. If anyone even thinks of causing you harm, Jonathan will unleash his full arsenal of fear-inducing chemicals without hesitation. He may not be expressive with words, but he’s ruthless in ensuring no one dares to cross you.

- One of his subtle ways of showing affection is by sharing his fears with you, something he keeps hidden from everyone else. He’ll discuss the fears he had growing up, or his fascination with understanding fear in all its forms. Sharing these secrets with you is his way of revealing the man behind the mask, trusting that you’ll accept his complexities.

- Jonathan admires your resilience and ability to stay calm, even in his most chaotic moments. You’ve become a constant in his life, and though he won’t openly say it, he finds himself feeling at peace when he’s near you. He may even develop a rare habit of reaching out to hold your hand, an act he considers a grounding tether in his unpredictable world.

- Sometimes, he’ll leave small notes or bookmarks in the psychology books he knows you’ll read, with cryptic messages or quotes that he knows will make you think. It’s his way of letting you into his mind without having to speak it aloud, and he takes pleasure in watching you puzzle over his hidden meanings.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- When you confess your feelings to Harvey Dent, you can see the internal struggle play out on his face. Harvey—the man he used to be—is vulnerable and hopeful, while Two-Face, the darker half, is wary and skeptical. It’s rare to see him so conflicted, but when he realizes you’re sincere, he gives you a small, tentative smile, one of the few true ones you’ve seen.

- Harvey’s love language is mixed with his duality. Some days he’s sweet, protective, and deeply caring, a glimpse of the old Harvey who fights to emerge. Other days, his darker side takes over, and he becomes more distant, protective but harsh. He’s constantly at war with himself, but he does his best to show you both sides, hoping you’ll accept him fully.

- A symbol of trust for him is letting you hold his two-headed coin, the one he uses for all his decisions. He’ll let you flip it, letting you “decide” for him in those moments when he’s overwhelmed. This is an enormous gesture from him, showing that he values you as a balance between his good and bad sides.

- Harvey’s protectiveness over you is intense and fierce. He’ll use all his resources to make sure you’re safe in Gotham’s dangerous world, and if anyone tries to harm you, he’ll make sure they regret it. His duality comes into play here—sometimes he’s gentle in his protection, and other times, Two-Face’s wrath is ruthless and merciless.

- On good days, he’ll reminisce with you about his life before the accident, sharing memories of who he once was. In these moments, he’s vulnerable and nostalgic, as if hoping you might remind him of his better nature. He doesn’t have many people he can trust, but you’re one of the few who sees the real Harvey underneath.

- Harvey loves to show you both sides of his life, taking you to high-end places and then to his more seedy hideouts, introducing you to the two parts of his world. He’s nervous about showing his darker side, but he trusts that you’ll understand him. It’s his way of including you in every aspect of his life, letting you in where few others ever go.

- He has a unique way of showing affection, giving you small, rare smiles or reaching out to touch your hand with his scarred one. He’s insecure about his appearance, but with you, he feels a bit more at ease. Sometimes, he’ll even catch his reflection with you in a window, seeing the contrast and finding a strange peace, knowing you accept him fully—scars, darkness, and all.

Edward Nigma aka. The Riddler

- When you confess your feelings to Edward, he’s taken aback, blinking in surprise before a smirk forms on his face. He immediately assumes you must be drawn to his intellect, as he sees himself as the ultimate puzzle. After the initial shock, he responds with a playful, “I knew you would eventually fall for my genius.” But there’s a genuine glint of excitement in his eyes, and you know he’s truly thrilled.

- Edward loves to impress you with his intellect, often challenging you with riddles or complex games he creates just for you. If you manage to solve his puzzles, it only makes him admire you more. There’s a playful arrogance in the way he’ll lean over your shoulder and whisper, “I didn’t make it that easy, did I?”

- Being with him means you’re his partner in crime (literally and figuratively), and he values your opinion on his schemes. He loves the idea of two minds working together and enjoys discussing plans with you, carefully considering any clever ideas you bring to the table. To him, you’re a rare equal, someone who can match him mentally—a compliment he doesn’t give lightly.

- Edward’s affection is quirky and, at times, even a bit competitive. He enjoys subtle one-upmanship with you, and if you can outsmart him, he’s surprisingly delighted, showing a rare sense of pride in your intelligence. He even begins to share details of his most elaborate plans, trusting you with things he wouldn’t tell a soul.

- His protectiveness comes in the form of setting traps and riddles to keep you safe. If anyone so much as thinks of harming you, they’re met with a labyrinthine trap or a series of riddles that they’ll struggle to solve. It’s his way of keeping you out of danger, knowing that his “defenses” will thwart anyone who poses a threat to you.

- Edward loves leaving you little riddles and coded messages to find, each with a hint of affection or admiration hidden inside. Whether he’s planning a date or just wanting to make you smile, he’ll slip a puzzle into your daily routine, and your clever responses only make him fall harder for you.

- Though he’s not the most emotionally open, Edward surprises himself by genuinely enjoying the softer moments with you. Whether it’s a quiet evening where you’re both reading or analyzing mysteries, he feels more at ease than he ever has. It’s new territory for him, but he cherishes every moment—even if he’ll rarely admit it outright.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- When you confess your feelings to Oswald, he’s absolutely shocked, and he stammers for a moment. Used to people being interested in him only for his power and status, he’s genuinely moved by your feelings. He adjusts his suit with a confident flourish, but it’s clear he’s flattered, his eyes softening as he says, “You…really mean that?”

- Oswald is incredibly attentive and chivalrous toward you. He’s always quick to hold doors, pull out chairs, and offer his arm with a refined yet protective air. He adores treating you to the finest Gotham has to offer—luxury dinners, elegant galas, and private rooms in the Iceberg Lounge where it’s just the two of you.

- When he’s with you, Oswald can’t help but show off his power and influence. He’ll make sure you’re treated like royalty everywhere you go, and if anyone disrespects you, they’ll face his wrath. There’s nothing he won’t do to protect you, whether it’s using his connections or intimidating someone into compliance.

- He’s deeply proud of having you by his side, often flaunting your relationship publicly as a way of reminding others of his newfound joy. Though he’s a ruthless criminal, he feels a sense of pride and warmth in being with someone who loves him for who he truly is. In his own way, he strives to be worthy of you.

- Oswald has a softer, more vulnerable side that only you get to see. When he’s not putting on his “Penguin” persona, he opens up about his difficult past and insecurities, grateful to have someone who listens without judgment. He’s deeply grateful for your presence in his life, even if he has trouble expressing it directly.

- Oswald loves to spoil you with extravagant gifts, from rare jewelry to designer clothes. He takes great pride in watching you wear something he picked out, and he’ll always remind you, “Only the best for my love.” It’s his way of showing affection and devotion, compensating for what he lacks in typical romantic expression.

- If you’re ever threatened, Oswald’s protectiveness skyrockets. He’s not afraid to use his network of henchmen and connections to make sure you’re safe, even if it means crossing dangerous lines. Though he’s often ruthless, there’s a soft, fierce loyalty when it comes to you, and he’ll do anything to ensure you’re untouchable in Gotham’s treacherous world.

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lovecla · 2 months ago

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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.1. the first time you saw quinn hughes.

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of shitty family.

➴ word count: 1.08k

💌 from me to you: this has been sitting on my drafts for days because i wasn’t brave enough to post it. but this story is very important to me and i promised myself i’d stop doubting what i write and just go for it. i hope with all my heart u guys like this ♡

౨ৎ

2013, SEPTEMBER.

THE first time you saw Quinn Hughes you were eleven years old.

Your family had just bought the house next to his, a beautiful four bedroom house with lots of space and a beautiful backyard— the perfect house for a family of four.

It was a week after you all settled in, your Dad as a Sports Medicine Physician working for a Hockey Canadian team, the Toronto Maple Leafs— the whole reason why you moved in the first place— your Mom as a Editor-in-Chief for the Fashion magazine, one of Canada's leading fashion publications, featuring content related to fashion, beauty, culture, and modeling and your brother, Peter, in High School as a freshman.

You were sitting on your porch, while you waited for Peter to be back so you could convince him to play football with you. He always said no, but you didn't give up. A few minutes later, Peter got out of your neighbor’s house, alongside another boy, who was slightly shorter than Peter.

You watched as they both walked towards your house, talking about something you couldn’t hear. You remember being so enamored with the sight of the boy that you couldn’t stop fidgeting your hands.

They stopped right in front of you, and while Peter was ready to ignore you and move on with his day— he’d been doing that more and more since he started High School— the other boy stopped and looked right at you.

“You didn’t tell me you have a sister.” The boy said, looking at your brother for a second before turning back at you.

“Oh, yeah,” Peter shrugged. “That’s Madison. She’s ten.”

“I’m eleven,” you corrected, voice soft and quiet.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, grabbing his keys so he could open the front door.

“Can you play with me now?” You asked, getting up from your seat, finally noticing how tall this other boy was. “I have the ball with me already.” You pointed at the ball that sat on the same couch you were also sitting not a minute ago.

“No, Madison. I’m with Quinn now.” Peter said, pointing at the boy beside him, who was now frowning at your brother.

Quinn. That’s a funny name, you remember thinking.

“We can play with her, I don’t mind—” the boy, Quinn, said, already reaching for the ball.

“Nah, bro. She’s annoying as hell. Once you pick that ball up, you won’t be able to let it go for like, three hours.” Peter replied, already opening the door.

You felt yourself tearing up and even though you hated crying in front of your brother, you couldn’t help it. Growing up, he was your best friend. Your hero even, when your parents decided that arguing during dinner, in front of their children, was a nice thing to do and he would make funny faces at you across the table just so you could laugh. When he pretended to yell at the monster under your bed or when he let you paint his nails with your pink nail polish.

But somewhere between turning fifteen and entering High School, he changed. And you hated every inch of this new Peter Carter.

He entered the house, shouting something, probably announcing to your mom that he was home. And you stood there, looking at your hands.

“Next time, I’ll play with you, okay?” Quinn, who was still standing in front of you, hesitated, looking as devastated as ever.

You felt embarrassed and you got out of there as fast as you could, running back inside and nestling yourself between your covers and plushies.

౨ৎ

YOU didn’t think Quinn had meant what he had said the other day, so you were surprised to see that he showed up the next morning, when both of your parents were at work and Peter was asleep in his bedroom upstairs.

“Hey,” he greeted you, stepping on your backyard patio and looking around. “Nice place you got here. We can play for a long time without risking throwing the ball in Mrs. Wright window.”

You giggled, remembering Mrs. Wright's funny wig.

“I’m Quinn Hughes.” He introduced himself after a while.

“I know that,” you whispered, watching as he laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m thirteen, but I turn fourteen on October 14th,” he said. “You’re eleven, right?”

“Yes. My birthday was in February. I got this ball,” you raised the ball you were holding so he could see it better. It had your name on it. “And I also got new clothes for my plushies.”

“That sounds nice,” he nodded. “I’ll probably get a new stick on my birthday.”

“Why would you need a stick?” You asked, not sure what he could do with a stick. A tree’s stick. At least that’s what you thought a stick was.

Maybe he wants to put it on his fireplace.

“I play Hockey,” he answered and you still didn’t understand. The only thing you knew about Hockey was that it was the reason you and your family moved to Toronto. So it probably wasn’t a good thing. “And I need a new one.”

“Well, if it makes you happy, then I guess it’s fine,” you shrugged, poking your ball. “But that will probably be boring. You should ask for something cooler.”

He laughed again, sitting on the grass beside you. “I’ll think about that. Thank you for your advice.”

You puffed your chest a little, happy to feel useful for once.

That morning, you and Quinn didn’t end up playing; instead, you talked for hours, with you both asking each other questions about literally everything. From what’s your favorite color to what you wanna be when you grow up.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest every time you stared into his blue eyes that sometimes morphed into a light green shade, but you didn’t understand why. Quinn was being nice, he was treating you just like Peter did before you moved to Toronto and it felt so, so nice.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You asked, right before he left for lunch at his house.

“I think so.” He smiled, quickly patting you on the head. He gave you a short wave before moving back to his home.

And you just stood there, counting the seconds so that maybe tomorrow would come faster, and you’d finally have a friend again.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x fem!reader #quinn hughes x model!fmc #nhl hockey #nhl players #nhl x reader #quinn hughes smut #TYPA

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ripleyresonance · 1 month ago

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First Bite

Vampire Hunter!Rhea Ripley x Vampire!Reader

Summary: How does a hook-up turn into an eternity with fangs. You may not know much about this world, but sometimes one bite is all it takes.

Warnings: Blood,Death, and a Creepy Frat Bro

The icy air clung to your skin, each breath hanging in the cold like an unspoken secret before disappearing into the night. Your heart pounded in your chest, a relentless, erratic drumbeat, each pulse a reminder of the hunger that gnawed at you from within. Every step you took felt heavier, more strained, as you tried to distract yourself from the crowd of humans swarming around you. But it was impossible. They were everywhere. Warm, alive, and oblivious.

You staggered down the sidewalk, eyes darting between the Halloween revelers, all dressed in their costumes. Harley Quinns, firemen, cops—it was all so mundane, yet something about it felt surreal now. You rolled your eyes, scanning the faces of people pretending to be monsters when you were becoming one for real.

Then, one man caught your attention. He was dressed as a vampire, fangs bared, fake blood dripping from his lips. On any other Halloween, the sight would have been laughable. But tonight, your own fangs throbbed, and the fire in your throat scorched hotter with every heartbeat you heard around you. His costume wasn’t funny. It was torment. And no one, least of all him, understood the agony of what it meant to actually be like this. Like you.

It had been a week since your life had changed, since that night when she turned you. You had locked yourself away in your room, trying to drown the hunger with food and water, but nothing helped. You were starving—truly starving—and the thirst was unbearable. You remembered the warning she gave you, her voice teasing, almost mocking.

Her laughter still echoed in your mind as you recalled how easily she had lured you away from the party, her flirty smile disarming you. You had no idea what was really happening, not even when her hands were on you, her lips on your neck, whispering, “I’m sorry... I’m just so hungry.” You thought she meant something playful, but then the bite came—sharp, deep.

You tried to scream, but the sound was caught in your throat, drowned by the growing dizziness as she drained you. You never even saw her leave. One moment she was there, and the next, gone, just like that. And then the pain came—the fangs, the burning thirst, the realization.

Now here you were, a week later, struggling to hold onto whatever was left of your humanity. But as your eyes locked onto the man in the vampire costume, everything else faded. His neck—so exposed, the veins pulsing beneath the surface of his skin—called to you. You could hear his heartbeat. The rush of blood beneath his flesh sounded like music, and it was getting harder to resist.

You didn’t even notice when he caught you staring.

“Hey hottie, like something you see?” His voice was cocky, dripping with arrogance as he swaggered over, oblivious to the danger.

You forced a smile, playing along. “Sorry, I’m just a little shy,” you murmured, your voice surprisingly steady despite the war raging inside you.

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself, and offered to buy you a drink. Normally, you’d blow off guys like this, but tonight you followed, your mind spinning with the possibilities. Maybe you could control this. Maybe you could feed, just a little, and stop before it went too far.

The shots went down easy, and with each one, your mind quieted, the hunger dulled slightly—but not enough. The frat boy’s hands roamed, growing bolder, but you barely noticed. All you could think about was the steady, rhythmic thumping of his heart.

When he whispered in your ear, “Let’s get out of here,” you smiled, but it wasn’t because of him. It was because you knew exactly where this was going to end.

He led you away from the crowded bar, into the shadows beneath a small bridge. Perfect. Isolated. No witnesses. As he rambled on about what he was going to do to you, you barely listened. Your focus was on his neck, the way it pulsed with every word he spoke.

Suddenly, you stopped walking, your eyes darkening with hunger. He turned, confused, as you stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You couldn’t wait, huh?” he smirked, thinking he was in control.

You leaned in, lips brushing his throat, your fangs aching, desperate to pierce the skin. “I think I need you now,” you whispered, and before he could respond, you bit down.

The rush was intoxicating. His blood flooded your mouth, warm and thick, and for a moment, you felt invincible. He gasped, a strangled sound of confusion and pain, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. The more you drank, the stronger you felt, the fire in your throat finally extinguishing as his life ebbed away beneath you.

He struggled weakly, but you pinned him down, your strength overwhelming his. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you should feel guilt, but the pleasure, the sheer relief, was too much to deny. You drank until he stopped moving, his heartbeat fading into silence.

It wasn’t until the light of a flashlight blinded you that you realized what you had become. The taste of his blood still lingered on your lips, and as you looked up into the eyes of the stranger holding the light, you knew: there was no going back.

Your head snapped up, eyes locking onto the faint glow of a flashlight. A shadowy figure stood just beyond the beam of light.

“Drop him. Now!” The voice cut through the darkness, sharp and commanding.

Instinct screamed at you to run, but you barely had time to turn before you were slammed to the ground, and pinned to the pavement.

A woman straddled you, her jet-black hair falling like a raven's wing, parted to reveal the metal glint of gauges in her left ear. She held your wrists above your head with ease, her grip unyielding. The way she restrained you was so precise and practiced—it was clear this wasn’t her first time.

You thrashed, trying to break free, even with the vampire adrenaline pumping through you, but she barely flinched.

“You’d think a vampire would be smart enough not to kill on Halloween. I mean, come on—try not to be a walking cliché,” she said with a dry laugh, watching you struggle as if it were a minor inconvenience.

“And to kill him of all people?” she scoffed, glancing at the frat boy's body. “What are you, a newbie?”

“K-kill him? I didn’t—” You twisted to look at the guy on the ground. His lifeless eyes stared back, cold and accusing. A jolt of panic surged through you.

“I didn’t mean to... I was just so hungry. Oh my God,” you stammered, the realization hitting like a freight train. Tears blurred your vision, and before you knew it, you were sobbing. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

The woman’s grip loosened, clearly caught off guard by your breakdown. “Goddamn, you really are a newbie.”

“I didn’t want to be like this!” you choked out, struggling to catch your breath. “I never asked for any of this. And now... now I’m going to prison. Forever. Because I can’t die.”

She sighed, standing up and dusting off her jeans, almost as if this whole situation bored her. “Calm down, kiddo. You’re not going to prison.”

You blinked up at her, still sniffling. “But I killed him... and you saw me—”

She waved it off. “Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of vampires kill a lot of people. You’re not special. You’re not the first, and you sure as hell won’t be the last.”

You slowly got to your feet, eyes wide with disbelief. “What are you, some kind of vampire hunter?”

She let out a short, sharp whistle. “Look at you, using those brain cells. Yeah, something like that.” She crouched down by the frat boy’s body, closing his eyes with a casualness that made your stomach turn.

As the absurdity of the situation sank in, you found yourself laughing. Hysterically.

The woman raised an eyebrow, glancing up at you. “What’s so funny?”

You wiped at your face, trying to calm down but failing miserably. “I’m sorry, it’s just... a week ago I thought I was going to hook up at a party, and now I’m standing in a tunnel after killing someone, talking to a vampire hunter. This is like some messed-up Vampire Diaries episode!”

She gave you a deadpan look. “That show’s offensive to our kind, you know.”

“Our kind?” you echoed, still reeling.

Before she could respond, the distant ring of a bike bell echoed through the tunnel.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you muttered, glancing around nervously.

“Relax, newbie.” She jerked her head toward the body. “Grab his upper half. I’ll take the legs.”

You stared at her like she was insane. “What? How am I supposed to lift this 200-pound frat bro and get him out of here before that bike hits the tunnel?”

She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Didn’t it seem odd to you that five minutes ago, you managed to pin him to the ground? And that was when you’d barely fed.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And now that you’ve drained him completely, you don’t think you might be a little... stronger?” She shot you a look that could cut glass.

“So, what, I’ve got super strength now?” You scoffed, still not entirely convinced.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said mockingly, “vampires are real, but superpowers are where you draw the line?”

The bike bell rang again, closer this time. Cursing under your breath, you bent down, grabbing the frat boy’s arms. To your shock, he felt light—like he weighed nothing at all. You blinked, processing the eerie reality of your newfound strength.

You quickly hauled the body away from the tunnel’s entrance, moving faster than you thought possible.

“Now what?” you whispered once you were out of sight.

The woman walked over to a car parked in the shadows, popping the trunk without missing a beat. “Now, we put him in here.”

You stood there, frozen, as she nonchalantly pulled out a large garbage bag, slipping on gloves like she’d done this a hundred times before. She slid the bag over the frat boy’s body, tucking every last bit of him inside. Efficient. Unfazed.

“Seems like you’ve done this before,” you said, your voice shaky.

She smirked, hefting the body into the trunk. “Well, have you ever heard of vampires before now? That’s because I’m damn good at what I do. Without me, this town would’ve burned to the ground ages ago.”

She slammed the trunk shut and turned to face you, arms crossed. “Normally, I stop vampires like you before you go feral, but hey, can’t save them all.”

You felt a chill crawl up your spine. “So... what now? You’re just going to leave me here?”

She rolled her eyes. “A thank-you would be nice. I did just take care of the body for you.”

“I mean... I just killed someone. Don’t you think we should talk about this? I feel guilty, and everything’s changing, and—”

She started her car, laughing under her breath. “Oh, sweetie, don’t lie to yourself.”

“What?” you asked, thrown off by her tone.

“You don’t feel guilty. You feel nothing,” she said, voice ice-cold. “You were crying because you thought you were going to spend eternity in prison. Not because you killed him. You. Feel. Nothing.”

You stared at her, stunned. But deep down, you knew she was right. The guilt, the panic—it wasn’t for him. It was for you.

She shifted into drive, her window halfway down. “Can I at least know your name?” you asked, desperation creeping into your voice.

She paused, giving you a look that sent a shiver down your spine. “Let's just say you never want to see me again and if you do…I won't hesitate to kill you.”

And with that, she drove off, leaving you standing alone in the cold night air, heart racing.

The hunt had begun. Only this time, you were the prey.

Hey guys! Sorry, it has been a while. Life and everything blah blah. But it is October and I hope I can commit to a little mini-series. Let me know if you like it!

#mami rhea #wlw #wwe #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader #wwe rhea ripley #wwe x reader #wwe raw #vampire #vampire Hunter

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 1 year ago

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Leap of Faith

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You use Halloween as an excuse to tell Spencer how you feel.

Square Filled: costume party (2022) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You tighten your pigtails so that they sit high on your head. You turn to look at how good your ass looks in the short shorts you bought on Amazon. The fishnet stockings are itchy on your skin but you’re going to be too drunk to care in about an hour. Usually, you make sure your makeup is perfect before leaving the house but this time, you make sure it’s messy and smudges at the corners of your lips.

You’ve been invited to a Halloween party at Rossi’s place where everyone else is going to be. Your costume is a sexy Harley Quinn. She is one of your favorite superheroes and Margot Robbie does an amazing job at playing her. It’s cliche and cheesy to add “sexy” in front of a costume but this time, you wanted it to be like that. You have someone to impress and it’s not gonna happen if your costume isn’t sexy.

You even dyed your hair blonde so you can dye the ends pink and blue. It’s a decision you made knowing you were gonna love it even after Halloween was over. Your shirt says “Daddy’s Lil Monster” which ends right below your breasts. If you raise your arms, you’ll definitely show some underboob. Your entire midsection is showing since your shorts hang low on your hips. You don’t care who sees you like this since you’re pretty confident in your own skin whether you’re one hundred pounds or three hundred.

You blow yourself a kiss and leave the bedroom, making sure to grab your metal bat on the way to the living room where your best friend is. JJ and Will decided to dress up as Barbie and Ken from the new Barbie movie. You haven’t seen it yet but you know the scene where Barbie and Ken are rollerblading through the town in bright neon outfits.

“Ready?”

Will and JJ turn you when they hear you come in. Will immediately looks away from you while JJ whistles.

“Spencer is going to go feral when he sees you.”

“You think?” you grin.

“For sure.”

“I call shotgun!” you shout as you run toward the car.

“No, you had it last time!” Will runs after you.

JJ smiles at the dynamic between you and her husband. You two became fast friends which makes her happy. You’re her best friend and he’s her husband. It all works out in the end. She walks to the car to see you in the front seat with a smug smile while Will is pouting playfully in the back. The drive to Rossi’s house isn’t long since she lives close to him, and when you get there, you see Derek’s car. If he’s here, that means Spencer is. They do everything together. The only car you don’t see here is Hotch’s. It’s normal for him to be fashionably late for these kinds of events.

Penelope and Spencer must have volunteered to decorate Rossi’s place because this looks amazing. Rossi is not the one to go out and decorate to this degree. You three walk up to the door and knock, and Rossi opens it slowly. He’s a modern Dracula without the fangs. He hates the feeling of things on his teeth. The years he wore braces were the worst.

“Welcome. Nice costumes.”

You step inside and see Derek texting someone by the front door. He’s dressed as a cop because he waited until the last minute to put something together. He still had his old uniform from when he was a beat cop and decided to use that. When he hears people enter, he puts the phone away to mingle. He whistles when he sees you, and he brings you in for a friendly hug.

“Damn, Y/N. Who are you trying to impress?”

“You know who. Where is he?”

“In the kitchen. He booked it in there as soon as he heard there were cupcakes.”

You pat his shoulder as you walk away from them, dragging your bat behind you. Spencer is by the kitchen island eating a cupcake when you enter. Halloween is his favorite holiday because he loves decorating and dressing up. He’s dressed in a puffy white clown costume. His face is painted ghostly white to match the color of the costume with dramatic eyebrows drawn on and a painted red smile. Even he can make something so creepy look cute.

“You gonna save some for the rest of us?” you ask. Spencer looks up and starts choking as soon as he sees you in your costume. He grabs a water bottle and chugs half of it to get the food out of his throat. Once he’s calmed down, he rakes his eyes down your entire costume. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”

“Wow, you look great,” he stutters.

“Thank you. I love your costume.”

“I made this,” he smiles proudly.

“I know. This is all you’ve been talking about for the past couple of weeks.” Spencer grabs another cupcake and tears off the paper before taking a bite. Some of the frosting gets on his upper lip which he licks away, but there is still some left behind. This is it. This is your chance. You walk up to him and reach up to his face. “You got a little something.” You wipe his top lip with your thumb and place the pad of your thumb in your mouth. “Delicious.”

Spencer is staring at your mouth and thinking he’d love it if your lips were on his instead. You can see the lust in his eyes so you take the leap of faith.

“You got some more. Come here.”

You pull Spencer close and kiss him to take the frosting off that isn’t there. Spencer grips your hips and pulls you closer as he kisses you back.

“Wait,” you pull away from him, “is this okay?”

“More than.”

You two meet halfway and kiss some more, not caring if you have an audience by the entrance into the kitchen.

“She made the first move. All of you owe me ten bucks,” JJ grins.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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honey-flustered · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 12: Coulrophilia + DDLG

Joker!Ghoul-ish!Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Harley Quinn!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, dark!cooper & dark!reader, tame ddlg, coulrophilia (attraction to clowns), Freaky crazy clowns, toxic af relationship, age gap, yandere x yandere, 60s Gotham-like AU, Reader was Cooper’s TV Daughter, Cooper has a joker-like backstory, joker and harley references. Reader has Harley Quinn-like backstory, violence, blood kink, fingering, squirting, kissing, lots of pet names (sugar, princess, sweetheart, etc.), they are very bad people, curvy/short!reader

Summary: You are the partner in crime of a dangerous man known as “The Ghoul”; a half-monstrous, half-human clown prince of crime. He also happens to be your “Daddy” too.

A/N: I’m keeping up with the ghoul-ish theme for Cooper for kinktober to go with idea I have of him where he kinda looks like dabi from bnha where like he’s half-radiation burned and other half- human. Hope yall see the vision cause I’ve thought about how cool that would be for a while.

Cooper was once a good man. A simple family man. In fact, he was on the screens of every family in America—regarded as one of the greatest movie stars of all time.

But then…he had a bad day and all it takes is one bad day to bring the most sanest man alive to the brink of insanity. Just one fateful decision that would eventually lead to one long comically bad day.

Picture this: Cooper is at the point in which he’s tired of being lied to and kept in the dark from his wife’s work with Vault-Tec. Unable to keep away, He sneaks into the private and heavily secured facility, gathering damning intel along with the sinister truth. In a slip-up during a security round of a particular unit, Cooper found himself trapped in and ended up falling into a vat of chems that injured him beyond recognition.

He was sure to die. He thought he would. But when he woke up in the hospital not only did this confirm otherwise but it also confirmed that he’d been caught. And from there a series of losses began in just the spiral of a day. His wife was leaving him, taking their only daughter, his last credited role was from a now canceled TV series; and he’d even lost his dazzling looks.

He was now a ghost of himself. A ghoul. Parts of his human form were overshadowed by the singed flesh that encased large parts of him. Like a Frankenstein’s monster of sorts.

He’d tried being a good man. A simple family man. But look where that path has led him. This world wasn’t built for men like him. And so he gave in to the dark parts of himself.

It’s funny how the world knows just who to send into your life to completely flip it upside down because you thought you’d never see Cooper again. In a way, you could say that you were right. Because sitting right across from you—that isn’t the wholesome TV Dad you’ve had the pleasure to work with…oh no, he is ‘The Ghoul’.

There he is before you; red stained lips painted into a wicked smile, green-dyed hair slicked back in a suave style, smoking a cigar and looking like the mafia boss that he is despite wearing the all white clothing associated with the asylum. The bottom half of his face from his bottom lip and jaw down to neck and shoulders are web-like flesh stapled together like he’d been built up like a puzzle. Somehow, he’s still so very handsome.

“Look ‘atcha,” He smirks, ogling you up and down. “My, my…you’ve grown. Even got yourself that psychology degree you’ve been tellin’ me you wan’ed to go back to school for. Proud of ya, kid.”

“Thank you, Mr. Howard,” You say before adjusting your glasses and leaning forward. “I was rather intrigued when I heard that I’d get to meet the new you. Colleagues told me it’d be a bad idea taking you as my patient considering how much I’ve once looked up to you.“

He chuckles. “Ya know, the universe can be quite the prankster. You remember that lil’ joke I made about bein’ a patient of yours someday…” The chains from the metal cuffs around his wrists rattle when gestures to himself. “I reckon I shoulda specify what kind of patient I’d be.“

“It’s a shame we have to meet under these circumstances. But I’m glad we’ve crossed paths.” You say.

“Oh?” He asks, leaning in as well. “Why’s that, sugar?”

“Because I want to help you.” You simply say.

“I already know I’m fuckin’ crazy, sweetheart. I don’t need a shrink to talk my ear off ‘bout it.”

“No, Mr. Ghoul, I want to help you…burn Vault-Tec to the fucking ground,” You clarify. “And when there’s nothing left, I want to dance on its ashes. I want to reveal the evil truth to the people and start a fucking revolution. I want chaos. Anarchy. And I want…I want to be with you.”

You slip your fingers into one of your thigh-high stockings and pull out a key you retrieved from an unsuspecting prison guard. Cooper watches on as you remove his cuffs with a pleased yet astonished expression. You tenderly rub the indented marks on his wrist. “I’ve always loved you. Even before we’d ever met—I was your biggest fan.”

He stands with an aura of intimidation and raw assertion, an intense gaze in his eyes as he saunters closer to you. You quickly rise to your feet, anticipating his embrace.

Cooper’s large hands shoot up around your neck, squeezing. Not hard enough to cut off any air circulation but just enough to drag your body against his.

He plants a messy kiss onto your lips. There’s teeth nipping at the soft, plush of your lips and his thick tongue lick the surface and the inside of your mouth. It’s so sloppy and purposefully so and you don’t care how freaky it is.

You are sure by now that his white face paint and the crimson shade of his lips have now transferred to your lips. Or could it be blood from the little nick he’d given you on your lips. You aren’t sure but it only added on to your arousal.

He pulls away, blood staining lips and just beneath his nose. “Well, I’m sure glad you chose to come home to daddy because if you weren’t by my side—why I’d just have to kill ya,” He laughs, removing a hand from your neck to cradle the back of your head. “Thatta girl. Now let’s get outta this shithole.”

“I know a secret exit we can—”

“Sorry, sugar, but I’d rather leave with a bang,” He winks suggestively, taking you by the arms to face you away from him and bend you over the table; the side of your face is pressed against the cold metal. You feel his erection weighing hot and heavy against your ass as he lays himself over you for a moment, lips against your ears to growl a command. “Don’t hold back yer screams for me, princess. Let ‘em all hear what I’m doin’ to ya.”

Just as you feel your lace panties being pulled to the side, four guards come barging into the room and shout for his compliance.

“Get the fuck off of her.” One guard shouts, laying a heavy hand on the Ghoul’s shoulder. Ghoul’s military training comes into play as he uses the very key that set him free to repeatedly jab into the accessible and vulnerable armpit of the guard.

He cries out in pain nursing the wound that now bleeds profusely and too distracted by this he fails to protect his gun, allowing Cooper to lift it from his belt and shoot into the shoulder of another guard who’d drawn his gun at him. In a shocking twist, you witness one prison guard turn on his last fellow guard, shooting him right in the knees.

“What about the girl?” The traitor prison guard questions, pointing a weapon against your head as you remain trembling against the table. You’ve never seen anything like this!

The ghoul steals a handkerchief from a prison guard who’d been struggling to reach his radio strewn across the room. Cooper nonchalantly wipes away the excess blood on his hands before picking up his cuban cigar from the ashtray. You awaited in nervous anticipation as he decided to take a draw from it instead of answering him, bellowing out the smoke in your direction and clouding your view of him for a few seconds.

His hard gaze begins to soften, charming you with his famous smile. “She’s just dandy to me.”

He holds a hand out to you and you squeal with glee, standing up on wobbly knees to jump into his arms.

“Come on, sugar. We’ve got some catchin’ up to do,” He holds you tight against him before indiscreetly whispering to his minion. “Finish the job, will ya? But do it only after we leave the room. Wouldn’t want to traumatize my princess ‘less it’s done by my hand.”

“You got it, boss.” The minion says. And withthat the Ghoul carries you over the threshold of what was once your own prison in a metaphorical sense.

The Ghoul makes do with his promise and causes a huge debacle within the asylum. By the time you’d both leave the building, it was like a circus. There were patients everywhere running amuck with doctors and nurses failing to control them, alarms going off, and you think there might have even been a fire started. It was perfect.

Outside a limo awaits the two of you, it looks like he’d been planning his escape all along. Whether that included you, you didn’t care. He may not be the same Cooper you fell for, the one whom you once saw as a father figure—Hell, he’s batshit fucking insane but somehow it makes your heart beat a mile a minute and the attraction only triples but his new appearance.

You pull him for yet another kiss, flames in the background are like fireworks. You could get lost in it if it weren’t for the damn police and fire truck sirens going off.

“Looks like that’s our cue to scram.” He opens the door for you which is interesting that he can still be so chivalrous. You smile just like the princess he names you to be and you enter and never look back.

Now you are a part of that darkness, feeding each other’s wickedness. The two of you have shed your clothes and in turn shed those identities. No longer did he don the all white clothing of an asylum patient. When he looks into the mirror —past the charred half of his flesh- he sees that of a crime-lord with weapons hung close to his body as if it were an accessory to his pin-striped suits. And you’d shed your past life, burning your white lab coat. You were now his and he, yours. And of course as a daddy’s girl, you’d do anything to mirror his image, adapting his twisted clown aesthetic.

Newspapers had a field-day writing about your descent to madness from America’s sweetheart to the other-half of a crazy crime duo. They call it a match made in hell, you call it the greatest love story ever.

But sometimes it does get exhausting when you want to spend time with your lover when there’s so many factors that prevents you from spending time with him! Vault-Tec, Vigilantes, Betrayers, and Barb! Just thinking about her makes you angry.

Why can’t they all just let you enjoy your chaotic lives in peace?!

Currently, The Ghoul is handling a business transaction with an informant from Vault-Tec who made claims of a nuclear war in the making with a plan to make the middle class pay for it. You’re more than happy to set your plan in motion to create a threatening video message to the company using the informant as a hostage, hoping you’ll finally get some time with Coop but he wants to take things slow.

“It’s chess not checkers, darlin’.” He’d comment and you’d just have to accept it. But today was meant to be your anniversary and he’d decided to take time out of your day to do business!

You claw your acrylics through the newspaper you’d been reading with an old picture of Cooper and Barb on the front page with a headline about their once fiery romance. That was the last straw.

Your sharp cat-like acrylics claw into the flimsy newspaper material you held in your hands, poking through the page from back to front and straight through the eyes of your lover and his ex-wife. The headline of their past fiery romance pushes you over the edge.

You shred the paper into bits, flinging it into the air like confetti. The tears are blinding, mascara running down your cheeks as you rise to your feet and go over to retrieve something from his ‘secret’ drawer from his office.

In the highest heels you own, you’re strutting angrily and briskly up the long-winded stairs and through the spacious halls of his large penthouse. His staff know better than to get in your way, jumping out of your path with terrified looks the moment they lay eyes on you.

You may be a curvier girl but you were a lot shorter in height than most people you knew. And most people you knew usually wouldn’t be intimidated by such a woman of your stature, not of course, if said woman happened to be wielding a .45 caliber pistol in hand.

If hell hath no fury than a woman scorned then it is in everyone’s best interest to mind their goddamn business.

You see red. Tunnel vision. Nothing else existed in this moment other than the man you hope to kill.

“Cooper!” You shout, pounding hard against the double ivory doors of his conference room before throwing them open.

The audience in the room turns their heads in your direction, expressions of confusion morphing into horror. You could hear the faint murmurs of his patrons murmuring about knowing you from TV.

The Ghoul is the last to raise his eyes at you, expelling air from his nostrils in frustration. He’s yet to speak up, watching the scene unfold from his big boss chair.

“Ya’ll better skedaddle or little blue’s gonna sing,” You threaten causing the crowd to quickly flee, some clutching their grand-theft stolen pearls as they do so. Once you're satisfied with the emptied room, you close the doors behind you and lock them for safe measures. You raise the gun at him, hands shaking. “You still love her, don’t you? The day you decided to leave the facility…to take me as yours…that was on your anniversary date, wasn’t it? I thought this day was special for us. But you used me. You just want her attention.”

He’s neither terrified nor angry. He just seems…inconvenienced. Bored with it all, he rolls his eyes as he begins fixing up his paperwork. “Couldn’t this have waited until after my meeting? I’ve got a job to do. I don’t need any of your distractions.”

“You think I’m a distraction,” You squeak, hurt by his suggestion. A rage consumes you so violently that you think of the first thing that'll quench your fire. In one fell swoop, you swipe your arm on the table and throw his paperwork and office supplies onto the ground scattering them everywhere. Now he’s furious, jaw clenching as he stares daggers at you. You can tell he’s deciding a punishment for you. “You said we belonged together! We were supposed to forge the world side by side. How could you say that I’m just a distraction?”

“I said, ‘your distractions’. As in, all the bullshit you do on a daily basis. Now be quiet.” He hisses through gritted teeth.

“No.” You stand your ground, adjusting your posture so that you appear even taller than you already are in your heels. You know he hates it when people tower over him.

He slams his hands on the table before rising to his feet slowly. He makes it a point to stand as close to you as possible so that he’s the one towering over you now. “You’re being a fucking brat.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” You snarl. “Maybe…I should find her, hmm? I should find her and kill her. I’ll do it. You think I wouldn’t?”

“Sweet pea, I know you would and I don’t care if you do,” He laughs, cupping your face in his large hands. “She took my Janey from me. I ain’t seen her in years. Barb is my lightning rod, all my aggression is accredited to her. If she were gone, sure it’d make things really boring for me but that’s just it. And as for you, princess, well…yer a pretty young thing—real cute—but I’m one making the commands here.”

“But we’ve done so much together. We made them lose profits. We pushed forward a smear campaign for one of the senior executives that made him disappear off the grid. That was a team effort!”

“And I appreciate your support, lil’ angel. You really do make yo papa proud,” His thumb traces your lips before he roughly grips your jaw, making you look him in the eye. His rings bite into the skin of your cheeks. “Now why don’t you give me a pretty smile? If yer good for it, I might let you sit on my lap.”

You yank away from his grasp, cocking the gun. “I’ll fucking kill you. I thought when you came into my life to silence my demons. But you’ve only danced with them. I’m so screwed up in the head because I loved you. But if you die, I’ll be free.”

For a moment, he looks genuinely scared but then he gives you a wicked smirk.

“You wouldn’t. You could never kill me. How do you think you’ll be able to go on livin’ after it’s done? The second I’m gone, you wouldn’t last not even a millisecond without me,” He steps forward, closing the gap between you once again. “That’s how pathetic you are. You need somethin’ in your life to cling on and that’s me. I’m your lifeline. Whether you like it or not, your heart knows you're bound to me. A year of fleetin’ kisses and light touches; I’ve not fucked you once and still yer this weak for me. I could only imagine how obedient you’ll be when I pop your precious cherry.”

“Fuck you,” Hot tears and mucus continue to run down your face as you unrelentingly held the pistol up to his chest. “Fuck you, Cooper. Maybe I won’t live long after I kill you, but I’ll be seeing you in hell.”

You pull the trigger only instead of a lead bullet, a foam-like bullet with a suction end sticks to his chest. It appears to be a strange child’s toy. You examine it with confusion before looking up at his fuming expression.

You begin to laugh nervously, dropping the toy on the ground to give a quirky shrug of your shoulders. “Oopsies.”

“I didn’t think I’d hide actual guns anywhere near the likes you, did you?” He sneers. “You fucking shot me.”

“But you didn’t die.”

“Anything you’ve got to say for yourself?”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat. “S-sorry…daddy.”

He raises his hand and you flinch, fearing that this’ll be the day he finally raises a hand on you. Instead, he places it on your head, petting it softly.

“My good girl,” He praises, much to your confusion. “What am I going to do with you?”

Your eyes sparkle with love and admiration, throwing yourself into his arms. “You still love me?”

“Of course, I still love you,” He coos, soothing a hand down your back that’s exposed by the style of your mini blue satin dress. “I’ve never had a woman love me this intensely. You almost killed me, woman. That makes me so hard.”

He guides your dainty hand over his hardening clothed cock. “Do you feel that, sugar?” He rasps. “You’ve done this to me simply for being crazy as shit. No woman’s ever made me feel this way, not even Barb..”

“Y-you mean that, daddy-o?”

“From the bottom of my heart,” He brushes his nose against yours. “Do you see how passionately in love we are for each other? You never have to question my devotion for you even if Barb’s around, no one could replace you. There’s just so many things you do that she could never do as good as you.”

“Like what?” You blink up innocently.

“You always know just the right thing to make me feel good.” He hints, sitting back on his executive chair with his legs spread.

You sink to your knees, sitting in between his legs. Cooper loves oral sex, both giving and receiving. He’s been so busy with work that rarely had time for either but you’ll gladly keep giving it up whenever you can. And maybe eventually, he’ll officially claim you in bed.

Your hands reach for his zipper when he halts your movements. He stares intensely into your eyes while wrapping one pigtail around his scarred hand. “You don’t deserve to taste me. You’ve maxed out your strikes for the day,” He begins to recount. “Strike one, you interrupted my meeting. Strike two, you were a rude pest. Strike three, you tried to kill me. For these reasons, I want you to sit beside me like a good little girl for the rest of my meeting. I shall have a punishment ready for you by then.”

“But—“

“Silence,” He tugs hard, forcing you to rise slightly. “I don’t want to hear a word out of you. I want you as silent as the ground I walk on. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You whine.

He places a kiss on your forehead before releasing you. With a push of a button, he makes an announcement on the intercom for his staff to lead his patrons back into the conference room.

“Remember, my dove: not a peep out of you.” He orders.

You watch on the rest of the meeting with awe, head in your hands as you dreamily sigh up at him as plotted away. After sometime, the members of his team exit the room after the Ghoul approves their dismissal.

Alone again at last, you hop into his lap, making the two of you spin in his upholstered chair. He humors you, forehead against yours and a reserved smile on his face.

“You were so amazing, daddy-o! I bet they’ll never think to underestimate you again. The plan is just diabolical!” You exclaim. “How are you real?”

“I ask myself this at times.” He replies smugly, rubbing circles in your back. If you continued to praise him like this, he just might disregard punishing you.

“I know I’ve been a bad girl and I don’t deserve it but may I please kiss you?” You ask, playing with his tie.

“You may.” He approves.

You squeal giddily before planting your lips onto his with a hungry desire that has you both moaning into the kiss. Your hands find comfort in his hair, ruining its assembly. Most days, Cooper would curse you for this but today he’s in such good spirits because everything is going his way. He slips his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

The telephone rings and he breaks away with a groan reaching for it on the table while his other hand continues to trace his fingers lightly up and down your back. While he’s occupied in conversation, you kiss all over his neck, leaving lipstick kisses behind.

“Excellent, I’ll be sure to watch.” He says with a smile.

“Daddy-o’?” You question.

He simply takes a remote off his desk and presses a button that mechanically parts the large velvet curtains to the side, revealing the big clear window behind it. Different colors burst into the sky of reds, greens, blues and yellow and you recognize them as actual fireworks.

You stand from his lap, walking over to the large window to gaze in at its glory. He’d successfully executed a plan you’d been telling him about for months; setting off an explosion at one of the milk factories that an ex owned. A factory far in the distance that you could see from the penthouse’s height, cursing it every day because it ruined your view of the city. And now Cooper has taken it out…for you. God, you love this man.

“Happy Anniversary, princess.” He says from behind, kissing you on your neck.

“This is the best thing anyone’s ever done for me,”Your eyes sparkle in the light, clapping and laughing with pure glee at the spectacle. “Oh, I could only imagine how funny it would have been to see the look on his face.”

Cooper presses another button and sure enough your ex is on the news, having a fit about it while you and Cooper laughed as if it were the funniest thing on earth.

Swept up by the moment, you kissed him passionately, messing up his makeup and your own as blended into an odd mix of colors.

His thick fingers find their way between your legs, moving past your damp panties to plunge into your hot, wet core. You gasp against his lips, nails sinking into his dress shirt for support as you grind down on them.

“I love you, Daddy.” You cry out happily, breathing quicken with the pumping of his fingers. If it weren’t for your back against the window, your buckling knees would have taken you down.

“I love you, too, sugar. You’re so good for me.” He praises, thrusting so particularly deep into you that your eyes cross and you gush your honeyed slick into his palm. “Always been daddy’s little monster.”

That name is enough to tip you over the edge, tightening your hand around his wrist when your orgasm finally hits you like a freight train. You whine and tremble when he continues his ministrations inside of you curling is finger perfectly while his meaty palm added friction to your throbbing clit. You’re sobbing at the overstimulation, soaking his hand, down your legs and his pants. He laughs at your catatonic state; the babbling and drool down your chin makes you look about as mad as an asylum patient. The aftershocks flow through you like a tidal wave as you shake against his hard body.

He’s only merciful to stop when you begin to clamp his hand between your thighs to keep him from moving any further.

When you come down, you give him a dopey smile and say, “Boy, seeing a building blow up like that makes me want to ‘blow’ something else?”

#cooper howard x reader smut #cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard/the ghoul x reader #fallout au #fallout prime #fallout fanfiction #walton goggins #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #chubby!reader #dark!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #walton goggins fanfic #character x reader #harley quinn joker au

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ethansluvbot · 2 years ago

Note

hi maylee! could you do something based on this dialogue from euphoria where ethan unmasks and the reader says this and it's just super heart breaky?

love you! <3

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME | E. LANDRY

warnings: gf!ethan, MAJOR SPOILERS!!!, mentions of blood and knives.

an: hey, yes of course i will do this. i actually love this idea and would cry if this was ever in the scream movies. inspired by “right where you left me” because i’ve been listening to it on repeat. this is lowkey shitty so like yeah!

❛YOU LEFT ME NO CHOICE,

it was crazy to think that two hours ago you and ethan were hand and hand walking to your dorm. now, you couldn't find him anywhere. you began to worry about him greatly, even with sam, tara and chad reassuring you.

the images that were in your head didn't help one bit. it’s not that you didn’t trust ethan to protect himself, it’s just the ghost face now even more brutal. after what happened to anika you didn’t know what to believe anymore.

now you were standing there watching chad brutally be stabbed. blood gushed out of his mouth as he told you guys to go. you couldn’t believe this was happening to him it might’ve even happened to ethan already.

you felt a hand grab onto your arm as you stared blankly at chads body. hearing sam screaming snapped you back to reality as you smacked the ghost face with your bag. (yes we must keep this bag)

your legs quickly matched the pace of the two girls in front of you. since you were last it was pretty fair to believe that you were next. there’s a sudden stop causing you to collide into sam’s back.

“shit,” you look up to see a detective bailey. tarah was inches away from his chest as she let out a muffled scream.

“you have to help us! there almost here, please!”

to say you were terrified was a understatement. he motioned for you guys to get behind him, raising the gun the way they were running.

you were still worried for chad and ethan. yes, you saw chas had been stabbed multiple times, but he never died. you were only hoping that they both still lived, that you would live to see them again.

bailey stood up in front of the three of you with his gun aimed at their head. he began to lower his gun with a short laughter. he walked closer to then standing in the middle.

“great job both of you,” he chuckles pointing the gun in your face. closing your eyes you felt him still staring at you.

“look at me!”

you automatically flinched as you heard him yell at you. what did he want from you? you sure as hell didn’t want to die tonight, but if it was for your friends at least you would feel good about it.

“who are they?” you heard sam ask. bailey just cocked his head to the side waiting for one of them to unmask. you watched as one of them began to take their mask off.

“no don’t do this to me,” you feel a tear crawl down your face. it was ethan, he was the killer, he might’ve even killed your best friend. reaching up he wiped your tear. even after seeing you cry he was still smiling.

“mindy was right, it was really easy duking the roommate lottery, all i had to do to meet you was room with a conceited condescending alpha literally named chad. fuck, it felt good to kill him!the best part, my name’s not even ethan landry, isn’t that right dad?”

you couldn’t even recognize the “ethan” you were looking at right now. after months of dating this boy you would never expect him to behave like this. you almost felt like the whole thing was a big joke.

you look into his eyes to see nothing, he wasn’t the boy that you truly loved. no matter how much. you cared for him you didn’t want to talk to this monster.

“so that leaves one more…” you hear tara mutter.

“mindy?” sam ask, petrified that one of her best friends would ever do that. mindy was the one always trying to help the group. no one ever believed she could set us up for failure.

“hi roomies, didn’t see that coming did you?”

“yeah because you died,” you didn’t know quinn very well so seeing her there didn’t shock you much. the thing that shocked you was she never talked to ethan before.

“i kind of didn’t, needed to get myself off the suspect list, stabbing gale and mindy was kind of fun,” she giggled to herself jumping forward with the knife.

you flinched back in shock bumping into the two girls. after a while of them yelling at you, you began to zone out. you still couldn’t process that ethan would ever hurt you like this.

you could feel him staring at you almost like he felt bad. you felt a cold metal slide up your arm making you focus again. you knew better than to turn around and look at them.

you stared into ethan’s eyes with a great frown. there was still active tears forming and falling down your face. you feel the sharp object shove inside your stomach.

screaming out in pain you fall to the floor. quinn pulls it out and shoves it back it, except this time she doesn’t pull it back out.

“quinn!” you hear ethan voice yell at her.

“you ruin all the fun.” she rolls her eyes at ethan, she always believed he was the weakest link. he was always the fool who got his heart broken, the one that didn’t want to hurt anymore, yet his dad still convinced him.

maybe he only did it because his dad forced him into it, but either way it was fucked up. killing people and lying about it was horrible. so why did you feel bad when you heard bailey talking about richie. you could see the tears forming in ethan’s eyes as he realized he wasn’t the priority.

you almost feel like they weren’t even there, most of the sound was drowned out and your eyes were blurry from crying. you watch as quinn, bailey and ethan all stand back together.

“go!” you yell to the two of them, if you died tonight you just wanted them to make it out alive. you watched as tara’s mascara smears around her eyes.

“i love you,” all she wants to think about is the group all surviving tonight, “we’ll come back for you!!”

you feel the knife stolen from your body as quinn runs after them, bailey runs the other way and ethan stands over you.

“i’m sorry.”

“no you’re not,” you couldn’t believe those words after you knew what he was capable of. he was a good liar you would give him that. you felt a year but your face but this time it wasn’t yours.

you felt a ripped piece of his cloth tie around your waist. you groaned in pain as he began to sit you up.

“get away from me you crazy bitch.”

he couldn’t lie and say those words didn’t hurt him. he deserved it and he knew that, but when he saw how terrified you were he couldn’t help but tear up.

“goodbye y/n,” you watch as he almost stands up, but you stop him. you play with the piece of glass in your hands, about to do something that ethan would’ve done.

“hey, ethan?”

he turns back at you, “yeah?”

“fuck you,” you lunge the piece of glass into his mouth. falling to the ground you watch as blood spills out of his mouth.

BUT TO STAY HERE FOREVER ❜

#ethan landry #jack champion #scream 6 #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x reader #scream 6 imagines #scream imagine #avatar

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velvetwyrme · 8 months ago

Note

i eat up ur recs with a spoon and have almost gotten to the end of the list!!! do u have any other self insert recs? thank u! u have great taste

MWAH MWAH ILY !! THANK YOU and yes ofc I have more recs (not as many as last time, but it should still be a decent list to sink your teeth into <3)

Take care when reading, and always be sure to check the tags!

Same notation as last time, with STATUS of each fic labelled as such: Finished, Ongoing/Unfinished, Discontinued. (Unless the author specified that the fic is Discontinued or on Indefinite Hiatus, I will mark it as Ongoing/Unfinished. Oneshots are also marked as such.)

Spicy (Explicit) and/or Dark fics have also been labelled if relevant. (I won’t mark ones with just suggestive themes/moments, since I cant guarantee I’ll catch all of them. Similarly, unless there is consistent graphic death or gore I [probably] won’t mark it as dark.)

MULTICHAPTERS

As always, tread carefully while reading and take care of yourselves <3

Edit: Fixed a missing link or two!

These Masks We Wear - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

TIME LOOPS BABEY!!!! This reader is a delight from the get go because they have been stuck in a time loop and are... rather impulsive because of it, which lands them in a bit of a mess, because these strange, dangerous monsters have just emerged from the mountain. (I'm screaming and yelling at this fic very intensely)

Resisting the Current - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

If you haven't read this yet please do yourself a favour and read it. The premise was enough to get me irrevocably hooked (anti-harem but the gf is ALSO into you. ALSO SHE'S YOUR EX) and the writing is just FANTASTIC. I'm obsessed with the dialogue and description at every turn. Also, I would very much like to kiss Quinn please and thank you. The plot is beginning to set in now, and it's so good??? I have to cut this short or else I'll talk forever <3

ALSO the same author recently posted the first chapter of Wishbone which has me in a vice grip!!! AHH

Comic Classifieds - Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

*kicks in the door* DID I HEAR... FAKE DATING? Very sweet VERY funny, with an extremely extraordinarily awkward reader. (Who is also "cute in an awkward, baby giraffe kind of way.") It's sooo good please please check it out.

Stolen with Friendship, Captured by Love - Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

2016... I still love this fic deeply <3 It's so SWEET and it reminds me of the good days of fic... Papyrus is. a Lot to deal with, but the reader takes it all in stride. He is SO full of energy and I want to sqUISH HIM.

Tough Choices, Tougher Consequences - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

I loooooove stories where soldiers get thrust into awful political matters. After you are forcefully removed from the battlefield, the Emperor gifts you his finest gladiator- Papyrus. He intends for the monster to be a toy to you as much as you are a toy to him, but you can't accept that and quickly broker a deal with Papyrus for his freedom.

Already There - Underfell!Sans/Reader - Finished

[Warning: INCREDIBLY SAD AND GOOD]

BURSTS INTO TEARS. Like for real though I adore this fic, it will break you into a hundred million pieces. My beloved son!!!!!!! I can't believe I didn't add this one to my last list it's such an influential piece of my existence like genuinely

There is also a sequel! Which hasn't updated since 2018 BUT STILL IS REALLY GOOD. If you want a slightly less heartbreaking story, the author also has another Sans/Reader; A Tale of Dog and Monster which makes me want to cry but in a happy emotional way instead.

Here's to You, Doll - Mafia!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Ah... this one is very fun. You're a scientist who gets accidentally isekai'd into a Mafiatale universe and becomes stranded there. Unfortunately for you, Don Gaster and his brothers think you are a spy, so you're kinda stuck with them. Also Sans is kinda a little freak in this one at times (/appreciative)

Soul Collector - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

The reader (the Soul Collector) gets transported into another universe and has to stay with their alternate, who is the skeleton's terrible neighbour. You look just like her, of course, resulting in a lot of VERY confusing interactions. I wasn't expecting to, but I actually really like Meyer.

Consequences - Papyrus(?)/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Anti harem, but the reader gets mcfreaking MURDERED (and so does classic Papyrus?!) so now they are both Ghosts. Focus is currently more on platonic relationships and REVENGE but I'm enjoying the twist on the typical anti-harem structure!!

My Soulmate is a Pastel Goth (And Other Concerns) - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Edge is very cute in this and I also feel really bad for him, he's trying so hard but the MC will not give him the time of day ;w;!! I looove me a good tumultuous soulmate fic. (Note: this fic also features Fem!Frisk as Sans’ soulmate in the bg, so if you’re not a fan, that’s something to note ^^! Fr//ans isn’t quite my thing, but tbh I’m really interested in seeing how things turn out here!)

ERROR: Not Found - Error!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Error, gets obsessed with the reader and kidnaps them! It's slice of life, so don't expect TOO much hard hitting angst here, it's more about being woo'd by the strange stalkerish entity who knows everything about you <3

When Death isn't an Option - Horror!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

I'm a sucker for immortal readers, especially ones that get stuck in HORRORTALE of all places. This fic is very fun and plays in the Horrortale sandbox in a fun way- I'm enjoying it a ton so far :]!!!

Additionally... if you liked that or if you're like me and love immortal readers forced to make decisions of extremely dubious morality and sense because of their immortal nature, you should also check out Cadarverous and 𝚎𝚊t. which are both very dark and very compelling.

Babysitting with Extra Morbid Steps - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

So the first thing you need to know is: Papyrus is dead.

... WAIT WAIT WAIT HEAR ME OUT- this is a really brilliantly written fic about like. SO much fucked up shit happening. The reader is Sans' friend, who he has hired/tasked with guarding the various alternates he has. just straight up imprisoned(?!?!). I avoided this for a while because of the aforementioned Papyrus Being Dead thing, but HOT DAMN I'm glad I read it in the end. Delightfully horrifying, but it gets sweet I swear!!! I would say read the tags but those are Spoilery ;)!

Additional note; the comments section often has Really Interesting dissections of characters and their motivations, which if you're into that (like me) then you should read those too!

All You Knead is Loaf - Sans/Reader - Finished

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

Super sweet, VERY punny fic that updated over the course of a month iirc. It's a cute food-centric Sans/Reader!

Like a moth to flame…or a lamp - Mothman Horror!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

BIG MOTHMAN HORROR!!! He's so sweet and sad this poor man. He has mistaken the reader for his mate and is trying to woo them again...

Those Times I Met His Brother - Sans/Reader - Finished

Essentially you befriend Papyrus and keep getting left with Sans, during which you grow closer. Love Papyrus' not-so-subtle attempts to get them together afjkdfjsf,,

Just Try and Help (Lil Old Hopeless Me) - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Skeleton reader! Very angy skeleton reader. They do not Want to be here (understandably, considering they were essentially kidnapped) but their former caretaker is gone, and they have nowhere to go.

Lovely House of Bones - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Six monsters get stranded in a snowstorm, and you help them not freeze to death by inviting them into the house you inherited. I'm really excited to see where this one goes :D!

Maybe In Time, You'll Want To Be Mine - Underfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

More!! Soulmate stuff!!!! SOULMARKS BABEY!! Love it when there are misunderstandings! Love it when there are cuuuuute background character kiddos!! AUGH it's cute! And angsty! But cute!!

No Good Deed - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Finished

You volunteer at a local homeless shelter where you meet a strange, less-than-friendly volunteer. Short and sweet!

Nothing but Skin and Bone - Horror!Skelebros/Reader - Finished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

MORE Horrortale content! This one only finished last month or so- it goes from angsty to sweet/cute and it's real good!!

If you read that and want EVEN MORE sadness and gore, the author's other work Vivid Blood, Pale Scars (DARK) is very tragic and very fucked up because you get saddled the Horrorfell boys this time. MUCH Hurt and No Comfort!! All the endings hurt me in different ways and none of them are happy. LUCKILY(?) the spinoff/AU where the skelebros and reader from VBPS get pulled into a multiversal skeleton house; Blurred Lines, Opened Wounds has just started!! Surely nothing can go wrong. Surely.

The Princes' Bride - Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

What if you got kidnapped by the king to marry his sons. "Why" is a good question. And an even MORE pressing question is: how do you get OUTTA here. (Papyrus is a sweetie, Sans is distrusting, and King Gaster is a mysterious weirdo who is a good dad and bad everything else.)

MorTificaTion - Bad Sanses/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Reader from Outertale gets yanked into Horrortale! They then have to masquerade as Sans' wife and Aliza's mother, all the while trying to just stay alive. Not to mention the other Sanses running around... really fun premise and I'm excited to see where it all goes >:0!! Also extra kudos to the name of the fic because YAY Murder Time Trio (MTT) mention!

So here's the plan... - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader/Underswap!Papyrus- Finished

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

VERY CUTE!! Love them. Fake dating except there's a third conspirator involved. Each of them was also trying to set the other two up in a couple uwu. Chapter 1 is cute, and chapter 2 is spicy ;)!

Just a Cat - Swapfell!Skelebros/Reader - Finished

The reader is in fact, not just a cat. (He is a shapeshifter, and pretends to be a cat.) Shenanigans ensue.

An Apple a Day Keeps the Asshole Away - Swapfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Unhinged. When I say unhinged I mean it in the best possible way but it IS unhinged. They're all a bunch of little FREAKS. Please read it, if only to experience the absolute TERROR of Miss Bluebell and also Steve. What the hell (appreciative)

Honey Lemon Tea - ...?/Reader - Discontinued

RAGHHH I'm so sad this was discontinued :(( I loved the set up and the mystery so much... the author did leave an end note with how the plot would have played out though!

Shifting Morals - Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

You go stargazing and have an encounter with a mysterious stranger :0c?! (It's Sans. He's a cool beasty guy, and he is very very sadly Entirely alone.)

Additionally, this fic was suddenly revived 5 years after posting the first chapter which I have immense respect for.

The Key To Freedom - Yandere Buttontale!Papyrus/Reader - Finished

Yandere Papyrus! Not a common sight, but this fic does it particularly well. He mostly wants to eat your soul at first, but then he starts getting... attached. The bittersweet ending!!! AUGH.

Milky Tea and Souls - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

What if you could summon bitty versions of your soulmates!! And oh stars why are there so many- WHAT DO YOU MEAN MORE KEEP APPEARING??? The reader has a handful of skeletons and more to deal with!

The House on Lane 66 - Various/Reader - Finished

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

I feel like legally I have to include this (/lh /j). I finally finished it recently and went "WOAH..."

I stopped reading for a while (because of the length...) BUT I returned to it because I really really enjoy the world building (like holy SHIT!!!) but oh my god that sure is. a Million words now. It is TECHNICALLY finished, but that's only because the next part is in the works(?!?!?!)

Love Grows - Farmtale!Sans/Anomaly!Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

🎵 Love grows where my rosemary goes~

The reader doesn't have a physical body or a way to interact with the world while they watch over Saejun and the rest of the Farmtale characters. They inhabit a scarecrow to have some semblance of personhood, but they remain unable to talk...

Falling - Underswap!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

You are dying. You are dying and all of a sudden your dad is asking you to pick out a fucking slave of all things. The monster does not trust you (fair) and he thinks you are faking your illness for attention (less fair. what the fuck). Really interesting dynamics in this one!

Se Brûler - Grillby/Reader - Finished

[Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

I reaaaally love this fic! Sweet fluff! Angst! THE DRAMA!!!!! AUAUUUUGH I have too much to say about it just go read it.

Early Bird Special - Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

Old fic that's still updating!!!! Really interesting plot that just keeps getting More Dramatic as time goes on (in a good way). It's a Slavetale AU, in which the reader ends up joining the resistance after a few chance encounters. The author also has a spinoff fic with the same premise but featuring Underfell instead, which results in quiiiiite a lot changing.

nemesis & nike - Various Horrorbros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

The reader essentially starts off in a zombie apocalypse and then gets transported into an alternate universe where they initially think that the various skeletons they meet are zombies. Turns out they are not in fact, zombies, but like most of them still want to kill the reader so...

Rules to Survive the Zombie Apocalypse - Swapfell!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes] [Warning: Contains Explicit Content.]

More zombie apocalypse stuff! Except this time you're stuck there with a pair of weird skeletons! You give them nicknames so you don't get attached, but of course you end up getting attached anyway.

To My Horror - Horror!Skelebros/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Post-surfacing Horrortale fic where the skelebros get to go live their farming dreams. With you! Slice of life with a dash of intimidation and angst.

If you enjoyed the Horrortale/Farmtale fusion, you'll be glad to hear there's also...

The Skeleton Stalks - Horrortale!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Another Horror-farm-tale fusion which has just begun recently! You live on a farm and all of a sudden there is this Big Intelligent Dog hanging around. Eventually, your new neighbors are sent to check in on you and your Great(er) Dog, which leads to some sweet interactions.

The Ruse - Swapfell!Sans/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

This is a rework! I read the original fic while it was being originally posted and I ADORED it, and the rework is superb <3 Sans is the Captain of the Royal Guard, who must fight valiantly against the villanous Eclipse, who exists only to spread terror... and you're just some human chilling on the sidelines, posting treasonous Soriel posts on the Undernet.

I'm so so so excited for it to return auauusgfhfhdj THE ORIGINAL FIC IS GONE SO I CAN'T EVEN READ IT TO SATIATE ME...

Almost Alone - Swapfell!Papyrus/Male!Reader - Finished

I love the sleepy, slow atmosphere this fic has- it's so befitting of both SF!Pap and the MC in this. It's soft and sweet and melancholic auauuauauuughgh I LOVE IT... *bursts into tears again*!!!! Also, there is a side fic which follows different POVs throughout the story, which is similarly well written!

=========================

ONESHOTS

Date night Purring - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

SUPER CUTE (and slightly suggestive)! Also Edge has a feminine body in this which is always fun. Booba <3

Scares and a Sudden Friendship - Horror!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

Reader's shitty boyfriend leaves them behind in the haunted house in which HT!Sans is working as a scare actor. Sweet little meet cute! (Meet spook?)

Fallen Star - Underfell!Gaster/Reader - Oneshot

An ooooold fic but one that never fails to break my heart. Written from the perspective of UF!Gaster recording experiment logs about the newest fallen human.

Birdy -Mafiafell!Sans/Reader - Oneshot

LET THE BIRD FUCK SHIT UP!! I love the way the Avian... siren(?) reader is characterised... there's also another oneshot in the same series which I enjoyed- love me some weird Creature Body Horror!!

I also really enjoyed the author's other fic: Moss & Mycelium, wherein the reader is a skeleton :]!!

Skeleton's Curiosity - FellswapGold!Skelebros/Reader - Oneshot

SUBNAUTICA AUUUUUUUUUUU YEAAHH BABEY!! I love mermaid AUs and I love Subnautica! Real cute!

Chance Encounter - Underfell!Papyrus/Reader - Oneshot

ANOTHER SUBNAUTICA AU :D!! Except it's just UF!Pap this time <33 !!!

Leaving A Mark - Sans/Reader - Oneshot

The twist(?) made me laugh so hard I almost cried. It's VERY cute also.

Nice to Scare You - Various/Reader - Oneshot Series

A fun series of oneshots of the spookier variety! Or more Halloween-y at least. All very good <3

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MISC. / OTHER

The Escort - Lust!Sans/Reader || &Reader - Finished

[Warning: Contains Discussions of Explicit Content.]

No romance! (But lots of kind-of-onscreen fucking.) This fic feels like looking at a bunch of polaroids, seeing a snapshot of existence. Life out of context. And it works SO well. It makes me feel sad and existential and I really love it.

Rubble & Ramparts - (An R&R-Inspired AU Fic) - Various/OC || Various&OC - Ongoing/Unfinished

Not a reader insert, but it's like. An AU of a reader insert so I'm including it here!!! Rubble and Ramparts is of course, inspired by R&R (Rabble & Rampallians), which was on my previous list but is getting linked here again for ease of navigation

ALEXIS my beloved!!!!!!! I am in loooove with the way things are going in this fic. It's so COOL and Alexis is such a freaking DELIGHT. Also I just really love reading all the notes from the Cutting Room floor, which the author has kindly included in a separate fic for your reading pleasure!!

ALSO in writing this I also remembered there is Another Spinoff AU fic which IS a reader insert (that I'm enjoying)...

Perception & Patronage (An R&R Spinoff) - Various/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

Thank the stars I remembered this, it's really fun!! Also judging by the tags there is also plans for. not only Various Sanses/Reader, but also READER/READER, which is such an underrated thing I love it, but I digress. It's a really fun spin on a really fun fic <3

Teen Livin' - Various Skelebros & Reader + Frisk/Reader - Ongoing/Unfinished

[Warning: Contains Dark/Heavy Themes]

Cute and sad! Platonic reader insert. The reader is a troubled teen who befriends Frisk, and gets to meet a bunch of skeletal guardians. The skeletons have a familial/friend's cool cousin vibe with the reader, which is really sweet! The fic is currently going through a Halloween Special which I'm enjoying quite a bit (Haunted dolls! Ghosts! Blood!! Still very sad :[...)

Something Good - Fellswap Gold!Papyrus/Reader(?) || /OC(s) - Ongoing/Unfinished

Technically not a reader insert since Coffee is the MC, but I can forgive it because I'm really really invested in this and I really adore the character dynamics so far <3 Coffee striking it out on his own is always a fun thing to explore, and I'm excited to see more!!

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I love writing up these rec lists- it's such a fun way for me to rediscover fics I've enjoyed, thank you for giving me another opportunity to reread some of my favourite fics and more importantly to share them with you! I hope you enjoy them as much as I did :D!!!

I'll probably leave it here for now or else I'll end up rereading fics forever lolol it's already like 3am I gotta sleep SOMETIME

#doozis fic recs #fic recs #fic rec list #others writing #anon #inbox #i did my best to make sure there were no overlaps between this list and my original one but no promises #there are however definitely some overlaps with my uf!pap fic recs lol #ALSO THERE IS *MORE* UF!PAP STUFF IN HERE #because i found more fics that i missed last time :(#if you're like. huh. a lot of these ones are ones that are newly updated youd be correct and thats because my memory is bad #so i gotta rely on email updated to Remember fics i like shdjgjfndnbg #why are there so many fics with Fucked Up Character Dynamics this round...#also a LOT of horrortale-adjacent fics. weird #THE AMOUNT OF DARKER FIC IN HERE IS ASTONISHING but also im not surprised one bit sbfjfbdjf its just. comparing it to my last list.

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roses-r-rosie3 · 2 years ago

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Beautiful Monster [Part 2]

Ethan Landry x M!Reader

A/n: This is basically a part two to my other story Not So innocent where y/n tries to tell everyone that Ethan is ghostface but they don’t believe him

Quote: “Nobody is going to believe you unless you have proof”

Warnings: swearing and sexual tension

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As the days went on, y/n felt guilty about not only knowing that Ethan was ghostface, but also slept with Ethan, when he found out that Ethan was ghostface. Y/n didn’t feel safe either, for all he knew Ethan, Wayne, Or Quinn could come kicking in his door and try to murder him at any moment.

As the group entered the abandoned theater, y/n pulled Mindy to the side to “talk”.

“Y/n are you going to finally tell me why you and Ethan conveniently weren’t there when we were attacked?” Said Mindy.

“Yes, well kind of” said y/n

“Listen, I know this might sound crazy but, I heard Ethan calling someone from the other side of the phone and-”

“Who was the other person on the other side” said Mindy as she interrupted y/n.

“I can’t tell you because if I do he’s going to kill me! Literally!” Said y/n.

“But he was talking to other person on the phone with the ghostface costume on, and he walked in, not knowing I was home, and he threatened to kill me, but we ended up having.. you know, I know this sounds crazy but please believe me!” Said y/n.

“Y/n, what you said, makes no sense” said Mindy.

“How do i know you’re not the killer trying to blame Ethan, while yes, Ethan is on the top of my suspect list, you saying this makes you look more suspicious than he is” said Mindy.

“Fine, believe what you want to, but when Ethan turns out to be one of the killers, don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Said y/n as he walked away

“She didn’t believe you did she?” Said Ethan who startled y/n.

“Nobody is going to believe you unless you have proof” Ethan smiled.

“And That’s a shame that nobody is going to believe that I fucked you so hard that you are nervous to tell them the truth” Ethan said as the smile turned into a smirk

Seeing y/n flustered and at a loss for words made Ethan smirk. Ethan pulled y/n to, what was supposed to be a closet area and locked the door.

“Do you know what happens to little tattle tales?” Said Ethan as he to started to corner y/n.

“Listen, I’m sorry for telling her, please, don’t kill me” said y/n who was starting to tear up.

“You sweet little thing, don’t cry, I’m not going to kill you.. yet..” Ethan smirked.

“I still need you for my plan, so keep your pretty little mouth shut” said Ethan.

“Fuck you” y/n whispered.

“What was that?” Said Ethan.

Y/n stayed silent.

“That’s what I thought, so keep your mouth shut, or else I will have to improvise my plan, and kill you” Ethan winked as he left y/n in the closet.

#male x male #mlm #malexmale #male reader #scream 6 #male reader x scream #scream x male reader #mxm #ethan landry #ethan landry x male reader

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rubber-ducky143 · 8 months ago

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𝔼𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕊𝕖𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕞𝕚𝕟

🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕

A/N: Again, sorry for not posting yesterday!! I was yapping to my gf on a 3+ hour call and then a few hours after, I went to Rutland! I had fun though and omw home, I thought of this and since it’s Easter, it only makes sense to post it today instead of postponing it to next week! Plus, I have a lot energy (I got a Monster this morning) so I feel like writing :3

Word count: 1586

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x gn! Reader (they paint their nails if that means anything!!)

Warnings: Fluff, “Easter Bunny”, light swearing, lmk if I missed anything :3

You woke up, any ordinary day. You were sleepy and honestly just wanted to get back to sleep but when the thought crossed your mind that your cousins and parents along with your aunt were coming over for Easter, you immediately wanted to get up and get ready for the day.

You tried to get up but Seungmin wouldn’t let you. For someone who doesn't like physical touch, he was oddly clingy. Especially today.

“Seungmin, I gotta get up and get the baskets, breakfast and the egg hunt ready,, I only have like an hour.. And on top of all that, I have to get myself ready..” “Why do you only have an hour..? Aren’t they coming over around 10..?”

You sigh and roll your eyes.

“Yeah but it’s 8:52, almost 9..”

“Really..?”

‘Yeah. Really.”

Seungmin sighs and rolls over, still as tired as ever. He gets up, nonetheless.

🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕

You both get out of bed after 8 or 9 minutes of stretching, almost falling asleep, and cuddling.

“Do you want my sweatshirt?”

You hear Seungmin ask. He was still sitting on your shared bed while you were in the bathroom, trying to fix your hair.

“The 1987 one?” “Yeah, what else?” “I’d say yes if you hadn’t slept in it.” “You sleep in the same clothes and wear them all the time! What’s wrong with wearing clothes I’ve slept in?” “It’s sweaty.” “You wear this sweatshirt even if I’m sweating after practice. What’s the difference between sweating during practice and sweating while unconscious?”

You sigh and roll your eyes once more. You didn’t really understand the difference yourself. You could’ve just said you didn’t want to wear it but he would’ve asked why because that sweatshirt of his was your favorite on him and to “borrow”.

You don’t end up wearing the gray 1987 sweatshirt. You end up wearing your own clothes. A Harley Quinn shirt with some distressed jeans/shorts/skirt. You didn’t bother putting socks on. 1, you were in your own house and weren’t going anywhere and 2, you didn’t paint your toenails just to hide them. Not that anyone would look at your feet anyway. If they did, I suggest being slightly concerned unless you like it. No judgment :)

🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕

Once you and Seungmin are both done getting ready, you make your way to the kitchen.

“Hey, Seung? Can you help me set up?”

“I was planning to anyway. We only have about an hour, right?” You nod and kiss Seungmin on the cheek before walking to the kitchen and gathering the bags of the eggs, candy, stuffies, baskets and other easter things.

“What can I do to help?”

Seungmin asks, standing patiently (somehow) in the doorway of the living room. “Can you put the eggs around? They should be all filled already.. If not,” You place a green-basket looking bowl on the table. It has candy of all kinds. Chocolate eggs, Reese's eggs, Marshmallow bunnies, Peeps, and much more.

Seungmin nods as a grin spreads across his plush lips. He was hoping you’d ask him to do that. He just wished you wouldn’t know what he was planning.

“No putting them in unreachable places, Kim Seungmin.” “Yeah, yeah. No promises.” Seungmin takes the box of eggs and starts placing them around the house. Most of them are in reachable places. Most of them.

🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕

While Seungmin is placing the eggs for your little cousins, you set up their baskets. Each one with similar items. A blue basket with a blue bunny plush. This was for your youngest cousin, Myla. Even though she was barely 3, you knew she still loved bunnies. The next basket was themed yellow. It had extra peeps in it because you knew your second youngest cousin, Cosmo. Cosmo was 5, almost 6 and loved peeps with his whole little heart. He was always so happy when he found them in the store. And for your last, oldest cousin. (Oldest but still years younger than you). Constance. Her basket was purple themed. When she told you she wanted a purple themed basket from the Easter Bunny, you immediately noted that. Constance was 11. Her favorite color was purple and she liked playing Animal Crossing. Also noting that she loves Animal Crossing, you got her a plush of her favorite character, Blaire.

After you finished setting up the baskets and Seungmin was (almost) done with setting the eggs up, you called your mom to see if they were on their way.

“Hello?”

You hear through the speaker of your phone.

“Hey, mama, are you about to leave?”

“Yes, why?”

“Just wondering, do you want me to make some food? Besides lunch, of course. Snacks or drinks?”

Your mom thinks for a moment with a “hmm” sound coming from the other side of the line. You hear her ask your dad, aunt, and cousins if they wanted anything. You almost immediately hear a scream for Shirley Temples and Lay’s Salt and Vinegar chips. You laugh and make note of those 2 things.

“Anything else?” You ask. You felt like you were asking if someone at Subway wanted anything else with their order.

You hear your mom chuckle before responding.

“Fruits, preferably Mangos, Peaches and Strawberries. You can add other things to your liking, I just know everyone here will love those 3 things.”

“Alright. Thanks mama. I’mma go now, bye.” “Bye kiddo, we’ll see you in about 30, 40 minutes.”

You hum and hang up.

“What do they want?”

Seungmin asks from behind you. It scared you but you turn around, nonetheless.

“Fruits, Lay’s and Shirly Temples.”

“Oh, okay. We do have Sprites, Ginger Ales and that Grenadine stuff. I don’t know about fruits though. Do they want specific fruits or?”

“They want Mangos, Peaches and Strawberries. I know we have mangos and strawberries but I don’t think we have peaches. I’d also like some Watermelon and Pineapple..”

Seungmin nods and walks to the door.

“Where are you going?”

You ask, slightly surprised.

“Going to get fruits. Do we need anything else? Anything for lunch? Any drink preferences?”

“Uhm.. We could use some more coffee powder. Some milk too. I think that’s it.”

You get up and check the fridge along with your pantry to confirm your request.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Seungmin nods and kisses you goodbye before heading out to the grocery store.

🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕

While Seungmin is shopping for your list of groceries, you make some coffee with the last of the espresso mix you have. Luckily, it was just barely enough to make 1 last serving.

You enjoy your coffee while leaning against the counter.

After about 20 minutes, Seungmin comes back along with your family arriving.

When you see them enter the door, you’re quick to grab the groceries from Seungmin and place them on the kitchen island, peck Seungmin on the lips, and then hug all three of your cousins at once.

Once you get your cousins occupied with their baskets, you chat with your mom, dad and aunt, Seungmin prepping 4 Shirley Temples (3 for each of your cousins, 1 for you) and the snacks.

After chatting for almost an hour and your cousins complaining they’re bored and hungry, you prepare lunch while Seungmin entertains your cousins with whatever he finds funny.

🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕💐🪺🐇🥕

Once everyone is full with food, drinks and candy, you ask your cousins if they want to start the egg hunt. They all exclaim a loud yes and run over to Seungmin who was holding color-coded baskets for each of them. Purple, Blue and Yellow, just like the ones their things came in.

You, Seungmin, your mom, dad, and aunt all enjoy watching your 3 little cousins run around to gather as many eggs as they can. Some, Seungmin or your dad had to get for them because someone decided to put them in unreachable areas even though you specifically remember telling that someone not to.

You all share laughs and make new memories with each other. As much as they wish they could stay, your cousins hug you and Seungmin goodbye before you hug your parents and your aunt.

You make sure your cousins have everything and finally wave to them as they all walk out of the front door to go back home.

Once everyone leaves, you and Seungmin (half-ass) clean the house and end up cuddling each other on the couch, enjoying the silence after hours of 3 little kids running around and screaming.

“You’re cousins are little shits, you know that right?”

Seungmin teases.

You nod your head and laugh. You knew that. They were annoying to deal with but you love them anyway. You know Seungmin does too. He just refuses to show it.

“Happy Easter, Seung..”

You say quietly. Almost falling asleep even though it was around 5pm (17:00).

“Happy Easter, Y/N..”

#stray kids #kpop #male reader #fem reader #gn reader #gender #they/them #fluff #skz #easter #family time #cuteeee #teasing #memories #laughs #kpop x reader #seungmin x reader

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taylor-tut-ocs · 10 days ago

Note

Hello!! would it be in the realm of possibility to see Bonnie Bailey with a stab wound?

ABSOLUTELY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ENJOYING MY SPACE GIRLS!!!

“Look, we’re not interested in harming you. We won’t even touch anything. I just need to know if it’s been here. So I can know if we’re on the right track.”

Technically, they’re not on the right track. In fact, they spend far less time on the planets that the military forces her to get samples from. She fudges the numbers and acts like their mission took 10 days when really, it had been just six or seven, just to build in wiggle room for visiting nearby planets to interrogate their people about the monster that killed her crew. Bonnie isn’t sure what she’d do if someone said “yes”. Would she chase it, risking discharge and the repossession of her ship once more? If Bonnie knows one thing, it’s that Audra would not survive another one. She barely survived the first time 25 years ago. It brought her to her knees and she’d drank a lot about it. Her days were a monotonous revolving door of alcohol, depression sleep, and dissociation. The survivor’s guilt nearly killed her, and that had been when she was on top of the world.Bonnie can’t even think about what would happen if it happened again.

Audra is only halfway through her second plea when she feels a cold blade pressed against her throat.

“Get out of here,” he warns, eyes the color of a sodium flame. “We don’t want military on our planet.”

“We’re just a research ship,” she argues, and Bonnie is crushed instantly. Instead of appeasing him, she chose to argue? Doesn’t she care that Bonnie’s life is on the line? “We don’t want trouble. I just need to know.”

The knife presses so firmly to her throat that she feels a thin drop of blood trickle down her neck. Oh, god. She’s going to die here because she’d idolized someone who put her career before compassion.

“Fine. Let her go, and we’ll leave.”

“No. You leave first, then you can come back for this one.” Audra rolls her eyes at the stupidity of that plan.

“We’re not going to leave her here with you now that you’ve pulled a knife.”

“Captain, please—”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You probably shouldn’t.”

Suddenly, Bonnie feels a punch to her gut and grunts in surprise, stumbling backward as the guy releases her.

“There. Now you’d better hurry back to your ship, if you don’t want her to die.”

Die? In what world is she going to die from a punch to the gut?

But when she moves her hands away from where they’ve instinctively clutched to guard her abdomen and all the precious organs within, she finds that her hands are covered in red. He hadn’t punched her. He’d stabbed her.

“Captain!” she cries out. This morning, she’d been beyond giddy that she’d be asked to be on THE Audra Quinn’s team. Now, though, she sort of wishes that it could have been anybody else. For as much as she looks up to Audra’s dedication and determination, the flip side of the coin is that she’s the least likely to be swayed by something like this.

To her surprise, rather than pressing the knife against the man’s own throat until he talks, she allows him to run as she rushees to Bonnie’s side and eases her to the ground.

“Easy, kid,” she says in a tone that is to soothing what sandpaper is to pillows. “Cone on. Let me see that; move your hands.” Bonnie does as she’s told and Audra curses when she lifts her shirt. The wound must be pretty bad if even Audra seems concerned about it. She presses her comm on her watch and starts barking orders. “Bridge team, take us back up. Med team, ready the sick bay. Ms. Bailey has been injured. Ground team, you heard all that?”

“How badly is she hurt?” Esther asks through the comms.

“She just got stabbed her in the gut.”

Bonnie misses their reactions as she drifts a little, eyes fluttering shut before Audra is tapping her cheek roughly.

“I know you’re not about to take a nap on the job.”

“S’rry,” she slurs as professionally as she can manage. She may have been stabbed, but this is still her boss. “Tryin’.”

“Well, you’re fucking it up.” Even though she knows that this is just Audra being Audra, it still stings to hear her say the words. Her worst nightmare, really, and she flinches. “We’re only ten minutes from rescue. Just hang tight until then, okay?”

Her eyelids flutter against her will and she attempts to force herself to sit up, hoping that it will help her remain conscious, but the blinding pain stops her and she cries out.

“Don’t move,” Audra scolds. She doesn’t realize that her eyes have slipped shut until Audra is patting her cheek, much more gently than she’d expect from her.

“Hey. Play a game with me.” Bonnie blinks in confusion, taking a long moment to process what would be hard to understand even without severe blood loss.

“What kind of game?”

“The kind that keeps you awake,” she says. Audra glances around and sighs. “I spy something white.”

Through hazy, fuzzy vision, Bonnie scans the landscape. It’s mostly blurry blobs, but one of them has to be white, and she has to find it. If she falls unconscious, she’s terrified that she’ll lose the Captain’s respect.

“Come on, kid. Quicker than that.” Finally, she spots a thin white line in the sea of oddly colored leaves on trees and rocks. Squinting, she has to strain to see the that the line appears to be covered in blue spots that she recognizes as moss that the lab team had sampled earlier today.

“The tree trunk,” she finally says, and her vision must be worse than she thought, because she swears she sees her almost smile.

“Good, Ms. Bailey. Your turn.” She glances at her abdomen against her better judgment.

“I spy something red.”

“Not funny.”

“Fine. I spy,” the next breath she takes does nothing to stave off the feeling of oxygen starvation, “something purple.” Audra’s eyes are focused and serious as she searches, never releasing pressure on the wound.

“That rock,” she says, pointing. It’s so far out of her line of sight that she has to turn her head to see it.

“Wrong.”

“Hm,” she hums. “The lichen on that rock.” That’s not even purple. All she’s doing is baiting her, trying to sustain her attention by continuously guessing.

“You need,” a breath, shuddering and painful, “your eyes looked at.”

“Maybe I do,” she replies. Everything is spinning. She feels like she’s circling the drain in terms of consciousness. “Hey. Eyes open.” She tries to force it, but she only has the energy to make them flutter slightly. “Me. Bailey,” she calls, patting her cheek once more, this time with less success. “Ms. Bailey.” But unconsciousness pulls her under, anyway.

When she wakes, it’s to five IVs with three drips total. No one is in her room, but she doesn’t know whether that’s because she’s been out for so long that they’ve had no choice but to leave, or because no one cares. That stings.

“Bonnie,” Esther greets, poking her head around the corner. She hasn’t made a sound that she’s aware of—she must have some sort of sixth sense to know exactly when she wakes. “How are you feeling?”

She takes survey of her body and shrugs. “How long was I out?”

“12 hours total, but you’ve woken up a few times. You probably don’t remember.” She shakes her head.

“Well, I’m giving you blood, antibiotics, and something for the pain to keep you comfortable. Are you comfortable?”

Of course she’s not, she thinks, but this is probably as close to it as she’s going to get.

“Just about,” she says. “Has anyone—” She cuts herself off before she can finish the sentence, but Esther is too intuitive for her own good.

“Has anyone visited? Yes, everyone in the lab, at some point.” Damn. So the Captain hadn’t even stopped by. For some reason, even though that’s completely predictable, she feels so crushed that her eyes fill with tears that she swipes away aggressively with a single hand.

“The Captain told me to ping her when you came to. I wouldn’t expect for her to visit, though.”

So she had cared?

“Oh. Okay.” She doesn’t know what else to say.

“You should get some rest. Do you feel like you could sleep, or do you need something to help relax you? What you went through must have been a pretty big yikes, so I’d understand if you needed something for the anxiety. It might help, but Bonnie is nothing if not stubborn.

“I’ll be fine. I’m just going to read.”

“Sure. Here,” she says, reaching below the bed where she’s stored the things from her pockets and bag. “Don’t strain yourself. Pick something with a happy ending, alright?”

“I think that’s what I need,” she agrees. “Thanks.”

Indeed, she does not receive a visit from Audra. But she does see her shoes under the curtain.

#Penstemon #ocs #original characters #whump #stab wounds #hurt/an attempt at comfort

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notfernintheslighest · 3 months ago

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an essay on Batman I wrote at 13 on paper about Queerness in Batman

Trigger Warnings: media censorship, homophobia, if things like the Hays Code are triggering this will be too

Batman has been around since May of 1939, and has gone through many changes since then. Two big changes reasons for this change have been, the introduction of the Joker in 1940, and the book “Seduction of the Innocent” written by a German Psychologist, Fredric Wertham in the year 1954. The Crown Prince of Crime, created a worthy opponent for Batman, and Wertham’s book created censorship for how this opposition would be portrayed. “Seduction of the Innocent” also brought about the Comics Code Authority. The Comics Code Authority created a seal of approval that let parents know if the comic was up to Wertham’s standards. This censorship created a large shift in comics’ content from mature to childish.

“Seduction of the Innocent” linked violence, sexual perversion, disrespect, and general rudeness to comic books. “The Batman type story may stimulate children to homosexual fantasies, of the nature of which they be unconscious,” Wertham wrote on Sexual perversion in the Batman comics. In that quote, Wertham is referring to the relationship between Robin (Dick Grayson,) and Batman (Bruce Wayne,) in which they share a bed, and get tans, among other couple’s activities. Wertham believed that seeing relationships like Batman and Robin would create homosexual fantasies. When “Seduction of the Innocent” was published, many concerned parents started thinking that as well.

Enough parents were so concerned with comic books that there became a need to know how mature a comic was just by looking at the cover. This need created the Comics Code Authority. The Comics Code Authority, or CCA, had 41 provisions in what was allowed for children to read in comics, if a comic got the CCA seal of approval, it would be sold, if it did not get the seal, it would more than likely not be sold. This created a brand new age of comic books. Under the “Marriage and sex” article seven states, “Sec perversion or any inference to same is strictly forbidden.” The “same” being referred to is homosexuality. This rule created a similar result to the Hay’s Code, which made many monsters written as queer. These rules, made the villains more flamboyant if they were men and more butch if they were women. It also resulted in men, such as the Joker, wearing make-up.

The Joker is a man who originally got his clown like appearance entirely from a chemical mishap, but it was later changed to him simply wearing make-up. This change also had Joker occasionally wearing women’s clothing. He also started a pattern of flirting with men. This flirting even went as far as him kissing Bane. Joker also confesses that he’s in love with Batman, twice, to Catwoman. Harley Quinn also makes the realization that Joker loves Batman, not her, in her self entitled HBO show. A great example of this dynamic is when Joker is crying on his knees at his shrine to Batman while Harley is show on a bed in under-garments waiting for him, with a yellow box reads, “It just wasn’t with me.” Batman: Curse of the White Knight has been regarded as non-canon, but this is not the only time Joker has been described as in love with Batman by Dr.Harleen Quinzel, it also occurs in “Harley Quinn (The Animated Series.)” Joker is given a choice by the Riddler, to save Harley or Batman. Joker immediately chooses Batman. This causes Harley to have the realization mentioned earlier, that Joker cares more about Batman than her. She recalls a past event in which Joker had said “‘Til death do us part” and realizes that he had meant Batman, not Harley.

Batman is someone who never maintains a singular love interest for long, he is a perpetual bachelor. Batman much like the Joker, never seizes the opportunity to kill the other. Most people claim that this is because of Batman’s moral code, which says nothing about not letting his enemy starve, fall to their death and many of the other deaths that Batman saves Joker from. Batman even mourns Joker’s death in universes where he dies. In the words of Joker in “Batman the Dark Knight, “You complete me” which is actually quoted from the romance movie “Jerry Maguire.” “You complete me” is arguably the best quote to describe the famous pair, Joker is as quintessential to Batman as Robin. Many people argue that heroes and villains can not/would not date but that’s also false, Batman dates Catwoman, has a fling with poison Ivy, and Talia Al Ghul. Also in an alternate reality in which Bruce dies instead of his parents, his parents become Batman and Joker, and continue to pursue a romantic relationship.

In the end Joker and Batman need each other. Years of censorship created these circumstances, and now that the censorship is ended, it has only been made more explicit. In newer adaptations like “The LEGO Batman” made in 2017 it is made clear that hate is a substitute for love. Their “hate” for each other is the driving force of the movie.

holy shit did i have no friends in 8th grade or something mein gott

#batman comics #batman villains #batman #batjokes #essay #batman essay #comics code #fredric wertham #when i catch you

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always-andromeda · 1 year ago

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Here's my masterlist for the Haunted Hoedown Challenge!! Thank you to @inklore and @psychedelic-ink for organizing such a unique challenge!! I tried to put together a fairly diverse list of characters who I have written for and have wanted to write for. So hopefully this helps bring me out of my writing slump a little. Depending on how things go, some of these may change or may not be written at all. Either way, this list will definitely be updated as the challenge progresses!!

Please keep in mind that this challenge contains NSFW content and some of the works listed below will contain dark themes. Minors, please do not interact with these works and please read my content warnings. Take care of yourself, friends.

Banner inspo goes to @inklore and divider credits go to @saradika!!

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ✯ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋, 𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Father Paul Hill x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + "Everything I've done...every atrocity, it's been for you."

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ✯ 𝐋'𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐋 𝐃𝐔 𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Jeff (Gone Girl) x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ “Tell me you want me back. Tell me I'm forgiven.” + the toxic exes trope

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ✯ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Edward Nashton x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ daydreaming about being with you is better than actually being with you because i missed all the red flags and now it's too late + "You're a monster." + "That's never stopped you before."

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ✯ 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ DBF!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + once is not enough + "Do you like when I touch you like this? I can keep going if you want me to."

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 ✯ 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐓

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Professor!Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ taboo au + dark academia + “I can see how badly you want this, so I'm going to make sure you get it.”

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ✯ 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Love Quinn x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ stalker au + “Don't you know how sick with love I am for you?”

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ✯ 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Demon!Joby Taylor x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ a ritual gone wrong and now i'm bound to a demon + "You're mine, whether you agree or not."

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ✯ 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐎𝐃

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Shane “Dio” Morrissey x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods + “This is so fucked up.” + “But you like it.”

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 ✯ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Javier Peña x Fem!Reader x Steve Murphy

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ inspired by your favorite Lana Del Rey song + love triangle gone wrong + “Finders keepers.”

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐍 ✯ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ shapeshifter au + "He's a monster." + "He's perfect."

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ✯ 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ gothic au + “Worship me. Until I tell you to stop.” + priest au

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 ✯ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✯ Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 ✯ 1970s porno filming + orgasm denial/overstimulation/edging + “You’re not actually scared are you? Of me?”

#hauntedhoedown #haunted hoedown

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preciadosbass · 3 months ago

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16/8/24 [3 DIYS!! key + significant photos at end]

woke up at 10:10, said goodmorning to boris and gave him his breakfast. i think he seems a bit better today, and he’s letting me be as affectionate as i always am. stayed scrolling on band/interest/scenemo related tiktoks and pinterest posts until i went to out to the living room to see boris. he was walked along the top of the sofa and settled onto my mum’s lap while me and her fussed him. i took a few photos because he’s just so cute. i went back in my room at 11 and continued doing my own thing. [scrolling on socials & went through my tiktok favourites] i watched true crime videos i’ve been saving up [because i always tend to find them when i’m falling asleep, and i cant sit there and listen for 10 mins while i struggle to keep my eyes open] and saved a few max green edits to my phone.

while going through my feed, i saw a post HMV made about falling in reverse’s new album. i then went onto spotify to check if it was out and it was!! when i listened to it; it seemed like it went by so fast, but maybe that’s because i’ve listened to quite a lot of the songs on there already. anyway, i really like it. i must’ve just assumed that it’s coming out in a few more weeks, because when i last looked at the countdown, the release date was ages away. i finished doomscrolling at 11:50 and made a couple of drafts to schedule for later today/tomorrow. once i was done, i wrote up to this point of this journal [all while listening to to popular monster of course]. i cant wait to hear the songs live HEHEHEHEHEE

i think i’d say trigger warning and ronald [obviously] are my favourites off the record. i really love the piano part on tw, i find it really cool when percussion instruments/[and other things like violin] are mixed into alternative songs. i don’t really expect the album to be the way it is, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, i like how deep the lyrics are and the theming of them. and i like how there’s a mix of different genres in there. i then went on pinterest to look for diy inspiration, although i’m usually just like - ah a bottlecap, i could make [X] out of that. i saw an apple cut into the shape of a crab and my first thought was i need to make that.

i went out into the kitchen, and before actually making it, i checked if boris was okay and on the driveway. i couldn’t see him so i checked the garden, the hall outside my room, and anywhere else i could think of. i ended up resorting to opening the front door and he was just stood on the doormat, staring at me. it was funny in a way because i was panicking and he was just relaxing. after seeing he was alright, i started cutting up the apple while listening to my main playlist. i finished and he looked nowhere near the photo i copied but he tasted good. [photo at end]

after eating him, i scrolled on my phone some more and then had the bright idea to make a kandi gecko [that i’ve already made multiple times, the last time on tuesday.] into a tiny beaded gecko. it was really hard to make as all the beads i used are different sides and i used clear elastic reel but i think he’s sweet looking. [photo at end] after putting him in my mcr trinket box i decided to get dressed so i could sit on the driveway with boris and not be overwhelmingly conscious. i took the outfit i ‘made’ from yesterday and changed the shirt up, along with a couple other things like how far down my undershirt went down on my arms.

i needed to get dressed for youth club anyways. i wore my silent hill shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a studded belt, a raccoon tail on the side of my belt loop, my kellin quinn necklace, a ying/yang necklace, knee high converse, those spiral earrings that are usually worn on stretched ears, and almost the same bracelets from yesterday [sleeping with sirens bracelet, mini spiked bracelet, can tab bracelet, panic! at the disco bracelet, crystal ball bracelet, a single row studded ‘cuff’, and a wooden bracelet.] [photo at end, ignore the blur at the top, my hair wasn’t straightened yet.] while getting ready i listened to my ‘the haunted’ cd. [one kill wonder] i’ve had it out on my desk for absolutely ages, meaning to listen to it, but i kept on forgetting.

i was speaking to myself while it was on so i wasn’t able to track my favourite song, but what i did hear was amazing. i admittedly haven’t listened to that kind of music in a while. i took a photo of my outfit for this journal and then went outside with boris at 3. like i’ve already mentioned, he seems okay as in he’s letting me stroke him now, but he keeps on flinching and ducking when there’s no sudden sounds. its really worrying me because it’s odd he’s walking so slowly and low to the ground. at 3:30 i started listening to a patrick stump podcast and took some rocks painted white and my paint pens outside. i saw someone had drawn on rocks to make them look like eyeballs and decided to do the same, but with boris.

i always struggle with drawing veins on eyes, although i’ve only done it once before for a pin. i ended up drawing way too many veins so they look a little odd but its whatever. i drew on them with the intention of putting them all in a jar and leaving it for display. [picture at end] i made ones with blue and yellow iris’s. i finished at 3:40 and then went inside to paint the pupil in with actual paint as my black paint pens dont work. then i went back outside with boris, and left for youth club at 5:20. nobody i recognised was there. i signed myself in and the people monitoring the sign in sheets asked me if i was okay and if i had any friends here. i said no and one of the staff started introducing me to people. which was kind of her, but incredibly embarrassing because i’ve been going for a while.

she showed me to a person who was coming for the second time. her and this other person ended their game of pool early because they heard that there was bingo being hosted. the girl sat down next to me and asked what bands i like. i said my chemical romance, paused, and then listed the bands that i have seen/am seeing in concert in the future. [somehow forgot to mention, but yesterday my mum secured tickets for me and my dad to see alice cooper. not at all my kind of music, but my dad wanted me to come with and it’s live music so why not.] she said she likes green day, and then something about a green day poster - and that was it. everyone came around the main table for olympic themed bingo. i didn’t speak to anyone for the entire 2 hours apart from that tiny interaction and when staff would make small talk with me.

the girl went off with another girl who was coming for the first time, and they did karaoke together. it was sweet but i felt so disheartened that i didn’t have more time to speak with them/the ‘conversation’ [if you can even call it that] ended immediately. i dont understand what i’m doing wrong, i was matching their energy. i wish people just wanted to be around me/speak to me. i left at 7:10 and was picked up by my mum and sister. once i got home, i stayed outside with boris until 8:30-40. i cant remember what i was doing on my phone in the meantime, but i highly doubt it was anything interesting. i know i did take a few videos of me cuddling him though because why not, hes my bestfriend.

once i got inside, i checked to see if the few rocks i’d painted were dry and then my parents left for a walk. i went live on instagram while painting the rest of the rocks + making this can room deco thing. it’s quite hard to explain, but its ultimately a stick with elastic hanging down, and the elastic goes into a coke zero and pepsi can. they obviously hang from the stick. once again, a useless craft, but its upcycling i guess, so. [picture at end] its yet to be hung anywhere so i’ll have to find a place on my wall for it which should be easy. while on live i listened to the rest of my the haunted cd, then a cannibal corpse cd, then danger days.

i was live from 9-11:20ish. there was two people there the entire time and one speaking in chat every now and then. i honestly just go live when i’m bored and cant think of a youtube video to watch that wont take my focus off whatever i’m doing. once it turned 11:20, i went off live and came outside to see boris. it was only brief because i didn’t fancy being outside in pitch black with those spiders around my feet. after i made myself some crackers and let boris inside at 12:15. by this time my sister was already arguing with my parents so i stayed out in the kitchen with him to make sure he was okay and not too overwhelmed by the noise.

i once again tried telling my sister to quiet down, but she ignored me. i stayed with boris until 12:50 and then went upstairs to my parents to ask questions about him. i did it as quick as i could because my dad agreed to letting me go to a bootsale tomorrow which means i’ll have to get up ridiculous early [for me, anyways]. i finished at 1:28, had a few naps, did my teeth, and said goodnight to boris at 2:15. i showed him what i’ve made today and told him about youth club. unfortunately his itchyness was really annoying him while i was speaking to him, but i tried my best to scratch whatever itch i could work out was causing him discomfort. i finished at 2:55, fed him, wrote this, and went to sleep at 3:30. im really on a diy grind right now.

🗝️ — boris/my cat, questions [about boris]/i ask my parents questions about my cat to verify he’s okay + will be okay in the morning. its a compulsive thing and i’m hopefully going to be tested for OCD in the future.

have a good day/night O_o

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prolix-yuy · 1 year ago

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Hello honey 💕 As promised, here I am submitting my request for the 500 follower celebration!

The list of prompts is amazing. I truly had a hard time choosing one, but after Chapter 2 of Both Side of the Door I need to know what happened between Mando and X'ian or I'll will never be at peace again. So I'll go for Heartbreak of betrayal with the two of them, hoping that you'll give us an insight into their relationship.

Ren's crew sees Mando as a sort of traitor, but I really can't see him act like that (as leaving Quinn behind) out of the blue. So who betrayed who? Who betrayed first? How? Why? And most importantly, what the hell happened on Alzoc III? S1E5 left us with so many questions. I need answers 🤯

Ma Chérie! My wonderful @amban-rifle! I have to start this off with an apology. I have held onto this ask for SO GOSH DARN LONG. This is from my 500 Followers Celebration OVER A YEAR AGO. I'm so sorry have kept you waiting but holy heck, what an ask! The drama! The complications! The holes in canon we all struggle with! Plus addressing one of the most confusing and complicated off-screen "relationships" many of us x Reader writers ignore. I wanted to do it justice, and it took a bunch of research, gorging myself on other Star Wars content, and staring off into space while that Spongebob meme of my brain being on fire danced in my noggin. But! It is here, finally. And for being so patient, it's an absolute monster.

Interlude: Burn in My Bloodstream

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader, Din Djarin x Xi'an

Summary: The Mandalorian has shared many secrets, but his greatest one is buried in shame and blood.

Word Count: 11.8k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, canonical-type violence, allusions to sex work, rough sex throughout, oral sex (m receiving), gagging, voyeurism, fingering (f receiving), PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), anal sex, creampie, choking, degradation, threesomes, semi-public sex, cuckolding, blood and descriptive gore, character death, genocide (what a tag that was to write), suicidal thoughts, a fuckton of angst, The Helmet Stays On and it's a Big Deal, a very toxic relationship dynamic.

Notes: This one was an exercise in researching and complicated storytelling, but now that it's done I am over the moon with how it came out. I know that the Din x Xi'an pairing is not many people's cup of tea, but if you want my take on how it came about and what I think happened to give us The Prisoner, here's it all as best as I can surmise. I'm staying as canon compliant as possible because it's fun to connect a bunch of dots, but obviously this is all speculation with some liberal fudging of timelines.

Takes place after Both Sides of the Door, with much of the story set pre-S1 and spoilers for S1 Ep6 The Prisoner. Our Reader character makes an appearance at the beginning and end, so she'll still have a place in this interlude. The title is taken from Ed Sheeran's "Bloodstream" and if you want to know where my mood was for most of this, that song is a good place to start.

Cross-posted on AO3

I Think of You Series Masterlist

After you retire for the night, Din contemplates telling you about the other woman who left marks on his life. Omera was easy; wrong place, wrong time, and no right time on the horizon. And if he was truthful with himself, maybe no right time ever. He could have loved her, loved the way she cared for him and allowed a softer life for himself. There are times when he lies in bed and wonders what a world like that might look like for him.

It’s…difficult.

Even thinking of a little plot of land, a space all his own tied to the earth of a planet, makes him yearn for the skies and space that surround you three on the Crest. He could never truly root in soil, so used to being a seed on the wind. There would always be bounties to chase, duties to fulfill, missions to complete.

Right?

And if he digs even deeper, he might find the clearest truth hidden among the memories.

His heart belonged to you longer than even he knew.

There were times when he let others touch it. Omera’s hands held it gently, too kindly for him to accept. And to keep it, she would need him to lift the helmet, the one thing he could not give her. Being a Mandalorian is all he knows. So he took his heart with him, and he’s sure she’s better off without it.

But there was another who reached into his chest with claws and teeth and left him bloody from her affections. One he tries not to dwell on as long as he can. A time in his life that brought more shame than any other, misted in blood and sex and credits.

He wants to share more of his world with you. You deserve to understand exactly why he is the man he is today.

But he does not think he can tell you about Xi’an.

“Got something special for you, Mando,” Karga says when he settles across the table. “You’ve been requested by name.”

Din cocks his head, one hand drumming restlessly.

“That’s new,” he says. He likes playing mysterious for Karga, embodying all that a Mandalorian is supposed to be, even when some days he feels like a small child wearing his buir’s armor. At least it hides the worst of his apprehension, impassive helmet masking how his eyes constantly dart around the room, legs tense and ready to spring.

“Ranzar Malk. Leads a small team of mercenaries.”

Din tips his head back, folding his arms over his durasteel cuirass.

“Didn’t think you liked sharing the spoils,” he drawls, watching Karga carefully. The man laughs, sipping back some spotchka and winking at a woman sitting at his bar.

“I don’t. I like my work without middle men. But they bring in very, very good credits. A percentage is more for both of us than the handful of riff-raff I could offer you.” Karga leans forward, elbow coming down and speaking lower. “They want the reputation a Mando can give their team. Help them get some bigger and better jobs. You lend them your striking silhouette, and you’ll be in enough credits to buy a whole suit of beskar. And my cut will be…barely noticeable.” The sly smile Karga schools off his face lets Din know it’s a lot more than unnoticeable, but the job intrigues him.

“What kind of work is it?” he asks. Flashes of memories play at the corner of his mind - Mandalorians coming down from on high to save him, droids shredded in their wake.

“Malk and I have a strict ‘no questions asked’ policy. You do the work, you get paid.”

Din rolls his shoulders, fingers itching to grab onto something solid and deadly.

“How long do they need my…reputation?”

Karga leans back and sweeps his hands wide.

“As long as you want. Open contract.”

Din considers the offer. Mercenary work has never been too lowly for a beroya, but he’d never done any. Mostly small-time criminals and shakedowns in return for credits. But if the money is as good as Karga makes it sound, it could help the covert ten times over.

“Deal.”

“You must be the Mando.”

The voice is snarly, raked over a steel timbre. Din turns to see a barrel-chested, long haired man with a thick salt and pepper beard to match. His face is folded into a smile but the light of it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Extending a short-fingered hand, he pumps Din’s gloved one vigorously.

“Karga said you were in need of reputation,” Din says, cooly delivering the lines he practiced on the flight to this no-name hangar in Outer Rim rubble.

“And what are you in need of, Mando?” Malk says, eyeing him with blatant curiosity. Din had planned for this question during his supply run. The covert wasn’t to be named, the last of a culture eradicated. So why was he still traveling, wearing the helmet if he’s not of an unseen world?

“Target practice,” is the dry answer he gives, leveling the helmet at the shorter man. Malk raises an eyebrow before a conspiratorial smile splits his lips.

“I like you, Mando. Man of few words. You’ll get along with the other chatterboxes I run with.”

Malk leads him to a hangar pad, small ships in various levels of disrepair scattered across the peeling floor. A sharp whistle brings three people into view, two purple Twi’leks and a human man.

“My crew,” Malk says proudly, gesturing for them to come closer. The female Twi’lek saunters over with a swing in her hip, the heavy forehead-first stride of her companion close behind. The human throws a grease-spotted towel onto a box of tools and comes to an exasperated stop in front of Malk.

“Can’t believe you shelled out credits for a tin man. I could have put a bucket on and we’d be just as well off,” the man says. His face is Malk claps him on the shoulder.

“Varlo,” Malk says, nodding to Din. He gives a polite tip of his head back. Varlo rolls his cold blue eyes and turns on his heel. His jaw is sharp and squared, matching his lithe frame as he climbs back into an open access hatch. The male Twi’lek approaches Din, soft footwork with his hands in his pockets.

“Qin,” he offers before Malk’s introduction, nodding his head at the amban rifle slung across Din’s chest. “Is it true weapons are part of your religion? Or is that all bedtime stories?” His smirk is condescending, not even veiled. A simmer of annoyance bubbles in Din’s veins but he tamps it out.

“Among other things,” he says instead, earning a sardonic smile and a handshake from Qin.

“All weapons?” the female Twi’lek says at Din’s elbow, running her fingers up the length of the rifle’s barrel. Din twists away, visor meeting the sparkling challenge in the Twi’s eyes.

“My sister, Xi’an,” Qin interjects as she circles Din with roaming eyes. She hisses at him, raising Din’s eyebrows under the helmet, before sharply switching to high-pitched giggles, like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever done.

“Ohhhh, Mando, we’re going to have fun,” she says, finally coming to rest at her brother’s side.

Din should have walked away in this moment, saved himself a lot of pain and heartache and blood. They were volatile, waiting for a spark to burn everything around them, and Din was only more kindling.

The jobs were easy to start. Wealthy benefactors needing a little extra muscle to get their way. A handful of runaways returned home. One exceptionally smooth jailbreak. Din’s presence gave them a leg up on jobs, but his skills were where he became integral. Combat all done with the efficiency and proficiency of a Mandalorian, but flying was where he excelled. The Razor Crest, in her infancy when he first shook Malk’s hand, was a deadly bird under Din’s touch. Scrambling signatures aside, with Din piloting it was a ghost on the astral winds.

It also became a strange cramped home to the five of them while they traveled. After complaints of too many credits spent on lodging, Malk casually inferred that the Crest could be a better home base. “We’re in it more than out most days,” was his dry reasoning, and with four people staring him down Din agreed, pangs of discomfort pushed to the back of his mind. It made sense, after all. The Crest was a cargo ship. Might as well fill it with cargo.

So between jobs and screaming dogfights in the sky, the mercenaries found themselves within the durasteel walls. Hammocks strung along the hold allowed for sleep, belongings mixing and melding to become communal. There was comfort in that for Din. Individuality beaten out of him in training, he preferred not knowing who liked what ration bar or whose ‘fresher items littered the floor.

In that crush of company, however, he did learn about his family in arms. Not enough to urge him to reveal more of his own past. All of them lived in the present, their histories an inky shadow they let drag behind and paid no mind. He learned instead of their present, trial and error and observation his best tools.

Malk’s connections were far-reaching and unsavory, most bounties questionable in nature but not enough to turn down. He would choose jobs no one wanted, ones that were especially difficult or carried the highest price. A name for himself was the greatest goal, clawing for prestige in how fast, how deadly, how accurate the team could be. Din sometimes caught a feral glint in his eye when they returned, deed done. The crazier the escapade, the more he gloated in cantinas or to his associates. Rarely lifting a finger himself, he worked logistics and timing, connections and credits. And when the job was done, it was only his name that ever hung in the air as they walked away richer.

Varlo was quiet, calculating and cruel. Din thought the standoffishness was a front until he watched the man more closely and realized it was born of a distinct lack of empathy. He could not be bribed, or swayed, or bewitched. While Malk made connections and laid the groundwork, Varlo was the front man on foot. He could talk his way in, execute the seven councilmen sitting at a table full of secrets, and wipe the blood from a particularly valuable one before taking it as insurance. His carefully crafted armor of failsafes and blackmail let him sleep easy every night, no matter the strain Din might feel at the events of the day.

Qin was the strength of the operation. Not bulky like a Devaronian, but leagues stronger and more agile than his body could betray. With enough blaster cover he could incapacitate, maim, and kill anything in his path with his two hands. That surety in his body extended to his place in the world. His smile was always knowing, always scheming something behind the fangs. Time spent across from him could pass pleasantly - Qin could spin you a tale from thin air, wrestle someone into gasping submission, or share silence all in turn - but once he left there was the distinct feeling that he gained more than you meant to give.

And then there was Xi’an. Qin and her relationship was manic on a good day, volcanic on a bad one. They snapped at each other constantly, enough that Din stopped trying to understand if they were mad at each other or simply passing the time. Where Qin was strength, Xi’an was stealth. Her steps made no sound, the silvery whistle of her knives the precursor to bodies on the floor. The delight she took in her own prowess turned Din’s stomach more than once. Brutal hisses and snarls giving way to raucous laughter and almost childish giggles raised the hair on the back of his neck. She was competent and brash, and Maker help anyone who said no to her.

Behind all of them was Din, standing silent and glorious. His helmet parted crowds, murmurs and rumors following the swish of his cape. They wondered why he was running with this bloodthirsty lot, a member of one of the greatest warrior cultures. He let them guess. With his contributions his covert would grow, and one day the children - maybe even his children - would be able to stand in the sun on a world that they called home.

Until then, he hunts.

Din manages to maneuver the delicate balance of this crew living on his ship for over a month before tensions rise. A week without work has made everyone snappish and riled. Malk is hidden away in the cockpit making calls so Din has to remain with them, arms folded as Xi’an needles at Qin. His lip curls into a snarl, and Din braces for a brawl.

“Treating me like your baby sister isn’t going to make the men think you’re tough,” she hisses, sauntering by Qin and circling Varlo. “They don’t care about blood when it comes to close quarters, long hours, pent-up frustration.” She walks her fingers up Varlo’s chest, stroking her pointer along his leather jacket. “Care to blow off some steam?”

Varlo skirts around her touch, dropping down on a crate and leaning back.

“Hard pass, I don’t dip into crazy,” he spits out, Xi’an’s mocking smile chased by a wink of his own. For someone who barely experiences emotion beyond curiosity and satisfaction, he’s good at faking it. With a turn on her heel, she approaches Din instead.

“Ever felt the touch of a woman, Mando? Let someone polish your beskar?” she trills. Din keeps his posture loose, tilts his helmet and sighs.

“Quit dicking around, I’ve got something,” Malk says as he drops down the ladder. “Decommissioning factory has had some thefts. We’re doing short-term security until we catch the guilty party.”

Xi’an backs off, slumping down across from her brother as Din moves to set the Crest’s course. Out of the thick air of the cargo hold he can finally breathe.

He’d wanted to rebuff her, brag about the women he’s brought to the heights of pleasure with just his fingers, but it’s a dangerous path to wander in the barrel of rocket fuel the Crest has become. Shifting his hips in the pilot seat, he thinks back to the last time he fucked his frustrations into another person.

A Togruta, maybe? Or was it that sassy brothel worker?

(a girl on a desert planet that stopped time)

A shiver climbs his spine but he bats it down. In any event it’s been too long since he’s indulged in a soft body. He’ll take care of that after this job, ease some of the stress buried between his shoulder blades. It might make all of this strange arrangement more palatable.

Droids. It had to be droids.

Not the fact that the factory was decommissioning battle droids but that some were going missing, not turning up in the junk pile to be scrapped. The workers didn’t give two shits about it, but because the battle droids were so powerful and dangerous they had to have their chips pulled out and documented for the New Republic. Too many missing chips led to this group striding in like conquering forces.

The first night is uneventful, Din passing patrols with Varlo and Xi’an. Varlo looks at him like another droid, the cold boredom on his face inexplicably boiling Din’s blood. Xi’an’s constant prowling only makes it worse, still determined to crack his stoic demeanor. He’s tired the next day, body running on too little sleep and too much adrenaline. Malk offers him caf that he refuses. He doesn’t like lifting the helmet in front of them.

The second night the issue comes into sharp focus. Not theft, but escape. A droid spray painted in yellow stripes enters the facility to reactivate its brethren. For what purpose they don’t know, and Din doesn’t care. Putting the droid in his sight, muscles tight around the amban rifle, Din squeezes a lifetime of pain behind the trigger.

A cloud of dust. No more droid.

He thought that would satisfy the roar in his chest, but back in the Crest he’s more of a caged animal than before. Malk tells them to enjoy a day on-world, and Varlo and Qin follow him out to the industrial maze of the city. Din knows he needs something tonight, a fight or a fuck or both, so he gathers enough credits to cover his proclivities and makes to leave the ship.

“Where are you biding your time, Mando?” Xi’an’s voice purrs in the low light of the cargo hold. She’s draped over a storage crate, inspecting her nails and flashing a devious look at him when his visor turns. “Going to finally lose your virginity?”

He doesn’t know what compels him to say it. Maybe the constant pressure on all sides, or the neverending sniping at his expense. He knows it’s a mistake the moment he opens his mouth.

“Been a long time since I called myself that.”

Xi’an’s eyes flash up to the visor. It spikes in his stomach.

“I find that hard to believe, Mando, with all the…” She waves her hands around her head, pulling a serious face that she can barely keep on. He should stalk off, leave her to pouting and him to pounding into something softer and sweeter than whatever this was.

But it’s been too long, and he’s itching for confrontation in a way he’s never desired before.

“I’m good with my hands,” he says, one coming up to rest on his belt buckle, tilting his head to the side. Xi’an lifts off the crate, circling him with the serpentine swish of her gait.

“Oh I can believe that. Seen you with those weapons, your ‘religion.’ Man who keeps them that well cared for must be attentive in…other ways.” She slinks around to stand in front of him, dragging her eyes over the broad expanse of durasteel on his chest, flaking paint and silvered scratches. She walks her fingers down his chest, stopping at his trim waist. “But that doesn’t mean you know how to use this.” Her hand flashes out to grope at his crotch but he snatches her wrist, jerking her hands up as she squeals. For a moment he thinks it’s in pain, but the glint in her eyes and the flash of tongue between her fangs reveals it’s excitement. Releasing her, he moves to exit the cargo hold and find something, anything, to calm the rushing of his blood.

“Oh Mando, come on, wait,” Xi’an pleads, skipping back in front of him and adopting an apologetic expression. “We’ve all been cooped up here too long, rubbing each other the wrong way.” This time her hands glances down his side, nails lightly scraping along his hips before she drifts them feather-light over his cock. The electricity of her touch burns in his groin, filling him quickly. “Let me make it up to you, Mando. Rub you the right way this time.”

“This is…not a good idea,” he grits through his teeth, common sense screaming at him to leave, but the many-toothed monster that lurks in the back of his mind drools at the feeling of her fingers getting bolder, now stroking her palm over his stiffening cock. The helmet tips back a fraction as Din’s eyes flutter, excuses melting back into the delicious heat of her touch.

“The best ideas are the bad ones,” she teases, sidling closer to him. Her breath is hot on the edge of his cowl, soft little sighs zinging down his spine as she swipes her thumb over the clothed head of his cock. He tries to suppress the groan but it comes out a whine instead, spurring her on more. “You could use some release. Let me suck your cock, Mando. I’ll trade you for a kiss.”

This is a monumentally bad idea and his survival instinct kicks in just before the monster waiting in the darkness claws his way to the forefront.

“The helmet…stays on,” he grunts, backing up a half step. She rolls her eyes but triumph lives there now.

“Fine, fine, your precious Creed. Then how about I give you a hand, and next time I’m in need of one you return the favor?”

He struggles to take in a full breath, her fingers now wrapped around him and adding just enough pressure to spark in his pelvis and surge into his chest. He nods, fists clenching, as Xi’an’s smile breaks across her face.

“Oh Mando, how long have you been wanting this?” she purrs, sliding down his body to rest on her knees. Alarm bells sound in his mind. It’s too out in the open, too vulnerable. If Varlo or Malk or Qin, Maker forbid, came back he’d be caught and probably gutted. But the lap of her tongue along his waist as she opens the plaquet of his pants dissolves the worries into heady arousal as the monster he’s suppressed so long rears to life.

“Kriff,” he curses, tilting the helmet down to watch her pull his flushed cock out of his pants, thighs flexing when she coos over it.

“So you’ve got the goods to back up all that swagger,” she sing-songs, looking up at him through her lashes as blood pumps loud in his ears. The arousal he’s feeling is unlike his usual encounters. In those he’s simmering even when his frustration is at an all time high, his pleasure delayed in favor of watching them writhe and gasp with the force of the orgasms he pulls out of them. It gets him harder than anything else. But now, looking down at someone who makes his blood boil at any given moment, his libido is at a roar screaming at him to fuck and bruise and take. The force of it makes his heart pound, unfamiliar and exciting.

“If you’re only going to look at it, I’ll go somewhere else,” he growls, keeping his voice as level as possible. It does the trick, her smile sly before she licks a long path from base to tip. The shudder is involuntary, a hot wet mouth not something he usually seeks out. He prefers a dripping pussy to bury his frustrations in but the power this position yields makes all the lewd cantina talk he’s scoffed at come into focus.

“Patience, Mando,” Xi’an lightly scolds, but the thin wire of restraint he was still holding onto snaps. One large hand palms the back of her head, fingers digging into the edge of her head wrap for leverage. Her eyebrows lift in surprise just before Din presses his hips forward, breaching her lips with the head of his cock. He groans at the slick heat and the brush of her teeth over the ridge as he thrusts shallowly against her tongue. He thinks he sees a wrinkle of anger in her brow before her eyes flash with vengeance. She wraps her lips around him, sucking his head.

“I’ve had enough of waiting,” he grits out, pulling back a fraction before sliding in deeper, pressing her further down his shaft. Her hands come up to his hips, fingernails digging in as a warning. The sharp points of pain focus his arousal, the mix with pleasure intoxicating. “You wanted it so karking badly, you….take it,” he growls, his thrusts deepening again as she takes him even further. Hissing around his intrusion, teeth come down enough to scrape along his cock just shy of unpleasant.

“Oh no you don’t,” he punches out, his other hand pinching her jaw to force her mouth wide. The lack of resistance drives him down her throat, a loud gag heaving her chest. The sound shocks his system, pulling back quickly as drool drips down her chin with her gasps. Uncertainty falls heavy over his libido now.

“Are you…?” he starts to ask, but Xi’an yanks him back to her face, pumping his cock quickly with the thick saliva she’s left on it.

“What’s the matter, Mando? Afraid of a little mess?” she taunts before swallowing him down again, the rough gags of her throat beginning in earnest. He can feel her spit dripping down his length, sliding over his balls as she rolls them roughly in her hand. It’s nothing he’s ever felt fucking a woman before, frustration and anger burning him inside out. He palms her head again, thrusting with her own bobbing rhythm as she hums around his cock. His hips pump, thighs clenching, stomach quivering at the onslaught of sensations driving him closer and closer to his high. Hazarding another look at her, she laughs around his cock before pulling off.

“If I’d have known it would be this easy to make you fall apart…” she begins to say, but Din shoves his cock roughly back into her mouth.

“Shut up,” he pants, fucking into her face in earnest. His orgasm is on the brink, body convulsing around her prone form as the monster ruts and chases his end selfishly. His teeth are clenched so hard he tastes blood, puffing air through his nose and snarling behind the visor. Vision red around the edges, his control is long gone as he fights her sharp nails and encroaching teeth and wild eyes. The tiniest voice begs him to stop, to look at what he’s doing, but when he sees her kneading at her mound over her pants, bucking her own hips in time with his punishing thrusts, everything lets go. He cums with a bellow, holding her there as his spend empties into her mouth. He gasps, sweat rolling down his neck and spine, the helmet almost suffocating with the heat trapped inside.

When he pulls out Xi’an gasps and the gravity of the moment makes him stumble back. Tucking himself away he watches her cough on her knees, white streaks of his cum dribbling down her face to drip onto the durasteel floor. Once she catches her breath she looks up at him, and in her flashing eyes and feral smile he realizes something dark and devastating.

He wants to do it again.

Striding past to slam open the cargo bay doors, her roughened voice calls after him.

“That’s one on the books for me, Mando. I’ll come calling soon enough.”

His hands don’t stop shaking for hours.

Xi’an is right. It doesn’t take long for her to come to him.

A simple job gone bad, the target fleeing into hyperspace too quickly to follow. Xi’an had been seducing him in a flashy racetrack before he fled. Din had followed as her backup, watching her writhe on the target’s lap and whisper in his ear. Every now and then her eyes would flash to Din, holding the expressionless gaze of the visor as she guided another man’s hand to knead her breast.

He told himself it wasn’t supposed to affect him. He didn’t care what she did, or who touched her. The scene from that night played in his head wrapped in nausea and regret. No partner he’d ever laid with drew out that much uncertainty and self-loathing, and he wasn’t keen to return to it.

But her curves still called to him, now straddling the mark’s waist. Familiar stirrings pulled up hard against disgust as he pushed the ravenous monster back down. It had gotten louder, fiercer after taking his pleasure so brutally. It screamed to take her again.

All of her work led to nothing. The target caught Varlo stalking up to apprehend him and make a quick exit. Even with four highly skilled mercs after him his resources won out. A faster ship, quicker access to his speeder. He was just within their grasp when he blasted off and into the atmosphere.

Xi’an shrieked her frustration into the air as the team re-entered the Crest. Malk confirmed there was no point following. They’d try again when he showed up at whatever gambling circuit he fancied next. She couldn’t stop prowling the ship, head down, glaring through her lashes. Varlo got a few sharp swipes for giving away their plan, but he threw up his hands and moved into the engine bay to let her cool off. Qin reclined in his hammock, watching bemused as she tried to self-soothe with no luck.

“Mando!” she finally hisses, jerking her head sharply as she strides past him and out of the Crest. His shoulders stiffen instantly, her brother’s hot stare branding his back. Hazarding a look back, Qin’s raised eyebrow and smirk make his face burn. But he still follows.

Xi’an is around the front of the Crest, leaning against the landing gear and seething. Din comes close, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence. Her eyes rake over the helmet, snarl less playful and more agitated.

“I’m cashing in your debt, Mando,” she says, whipping her belt out of the loops so quickly it cracks. Din’s hands tighten on his, stance faltering.

“Not sure that’s a good idea,” he murmurs, bracing for the impact of his words. They land hard on her skin, quick steps bringing them chest to chest.

“I don’t give a flying kark what you think. I gave you my throat to cum in, it’s your turn. Give me your cock.”

Din balks, trying to disentangle from the swirling vortex of rage, but her hands are small and quick to grab at the fabric around his neck.

“Or you can give me something else, Mandalorian. Show me your face if you won’t fuck me,” she snarls, grabbing for the edge of his helmet. He yanks her arm away, but the other tries just the same. He snags it in his fist, whipping his head back when she tries to knock the helmet off. Both wrists captured he pushes her back, pinning her against the landing gear. Her hips jerk against his own, legs kicking at his shins. Some blows land, leaving dark reminders for days to come. Her bared teeth and hissing finally push him to pin both of her hands with one of his, the other coming to firmly wrap around her throat.

That finally stops her, eyes fluttering as he puts just enough pressure on her windpipe to quiet her. Hips rolling against his hardening cock, he leans in to crowd her against the durasteel mechanics.

“Is this what you want?” he husks, removing his hand from her throat to shove into her pants. The fit is tight, his thick forearm and vambrace stretching the waistband, but his skilled fingers cup her hot cunt. Even with the gloves on he can find her clit, roughly circling as she gasps and rocks against him. “Needed this attitude fucked out of you?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she moans, hooking a leg behind his thigh to pull him closer. He yanks his hand out of her pants and pushes slick-soaked leather between her lips.

“Take them off, or I won’t,” he growls, waiting for her teeth to tug his gloves off his fingers. She stares at the tawny skin, all the silvery lines cross-crossing his knuckles and fingers. He tries not to dwell on this, on how she’s already pushed him past what he knows he shouldn’t do. Jamming his hand back into her pants he buries two fingers in her wet cunt, setting a fast and firm pace that has her crying out against his overwhelming hold. The monster snarls inside him, salivating at the prospect of rucking her pants down and…

“Mando, need your cock, need you to fuck me,” she whines, just short of begging. It knots his stomach that she knows how much she’s making him lose control. The rhythmic slap of his palm on her intimate flesh has him full and hard, grip tightening as he feels her walls spasm around his flexing fingers.

“Cum like this first and I’ll see if you deserve my cock,” he rasps, buying himself enough time to calm his raging libido a fraction. He shouldn’t fuck her, shouldn’t let this go on any longer than it already has, but his body is thrumming, snapping and snarling into her as she beckons him to let go, to find something blinding in her soaked cunt.

Her orgasm clamps down on his fingers suddenly, the raw shriek making him clap his hand over her mouth. The loss of his hands pinning her wrists gives ample opportunity to rush open his pants and find his weeping cock. A few well-placed strokes has his rational mind dissolving into the single-minded concept of fucking.

He bends her over the landing gear, tearing her pants down over her ass to expose her glistening pussy. Normally that sight makes his mouth water. Instead he tugs on his cock a couple times to prepare.

“Hurry up, Mando,” Xi’an whines, arching her back higher to present her hole to him. He pushes her chest down hard, a whoosh of air escaping before he sheaths his cock in her tight pussy. The momentary ecstasy of his slick entrance washes over him, planting both hands on either side of her head. His first thrust punches a moan from her lips, followed by a litany of curses and whines as he snaps his hips fast and hard. The loud smack of skin pulls out a thin moan of his own.

“Karking Maker, Mando, you feel so good,” Xi’an croons, a momentary lapse in vitriol. It makes Din chuckle as he grunts at her wet clutch.

“This all you needed? A cock to make you bearable?” he teases, angling his hips to drill into a spot inside he knows will make her scream. She gathers air before he shoves his sticky fingers into her mouth, pinching her jaw open as he penetrates her here too. Everything is dripping and liquid and hard and soft at the same time. His own orgasm is fast approaching, a roar in his ears that he chases with fervor.

“Gonna cum again,” Xi’an gasps around his fingers, slamming back against Din’s thrusts as she chases her own end. Two people so far inside but so far apart.

Din dutifully reaches between her legs and pinches her clit, sending her toppling over into a shuddering orgasm that clenches his cock so hard he has to pull out and cum all over her other tight hole. Lightheaded and heavy-limbed, Din tries to regain a semblance of control over the situation.

This is just returning the favor.

This won’t happen again.

He doesn’t want this to happen again.

Shuffling back, he uses his bare hand to scrape his cum off her ass and flick it on the ground. Xi’an pulls her pants back up as Din tucks himself away and turns to stride back into the Crest.

Stepping outside looking to be without a care in the world is Qin, licking Jogan fruit juice off his fingers as he discards the peel on the ground. Din’s whole body locks up, fight or flight response screaming at him to get away.

“Get a good eyeful brother?” Xi’an singsongs behind Din, walking past him to re-enter the ship. Qin mock-glares at her as she passes and saunters away. When his eyes land back on Din he waits for a fist or a blade to connect with his flesh. Instead Qin just shakes his head with an amused expression and follows his sister.

Dread lands heavy in Din’s belly. His grip is slipping and he’s not sure whether he’ll hang on or fall into something even harder to climb out of.

That was the last time, he says to himself as he leaves a freshly fucked Xi’an in the ‘fresher.

This time it’s over, he says as he splatters his cum on her tits.

Never again, he promises after he spills his load into her tight asshole, cursing to the Maker about how good she feels choking his dick.

He tries over and over to stop it, to tell her no, but every time she whines and needles and baits until he can’t help but bury his frustrations in her body.

It’s been months since he joined Malk’s crew, and the spoils of their missions were fat in his pocket. He knows he should sneak off to the covert, give them the credits needed to keep them safe. Or to Karga, pay him his cut of whoring out his Mandalorian. It itches in the back of his brain, the duties he’s supposed to be performing.

Instead, he ignores Karga’s messages on his holo. He spends the credits on upgrades to the Crest and Corellian whiskey and brothels. The last is in a desperate hope to rid him of his addiction to the purple Twi’lek plaguing his bed.

She stalks his days and haunts his nights, rarely away from each other. It makes it easy to let her straddle his waist in the tiny cubby of a bed and ride him until he’s dripping out of her. Sometimes she follows him when they’re on-world to the places where he spends his credits. The first time he caught her he made her watch as he fucked a plain but skilled prostitute. The following times, she joined him in his debauchery.

He tells himself it’s the last time every time, but the fire always returns. The itch under his skin. The monster that roars under Xi’an’s sharp nails and sharper tongue batters the inside of its cage and howls until Din can leave more marks on her skin. It’s feral and bloodthirsty. Definitely unhealthy.

He still can’t stop.

The bounty they lost finally turns up in a swanky hotel on Coruscant. Xi’an goes to complete the job, her cover not blown enough to approach the target again. Words and drinks pass between them before his hands are groping her beneath the table. They slink away together, Din’s helmet following their heat signatures. The man’s crotch is white fire, but Xi’an’s registers no hotter than her body temp.

Couldn’t even get her wet. He’d have her blazing by now.

Din waits for the signal to apprehend the target outside the closed hotel room. Long minutes tick by, Din’s imagination spinning wildly as he imagines the man’s fingers in her pussy, licking her clit like he can never do, spitting in her mouth like he sometimes imagines with a frightening tightness in his groin.

A trill sounds. Time for action.

Din bursts in, blaster pointed ahead of him to take in the lewd scene. Xi’an is naked on the bed, the target thrusting into her from behind. Her face is bored until she sees Din enter, lax posture trading for silky and sexy.

“What the kark-!” the target shouts, hands shooting up in surrender.

“Took you long enough, Mando, I had to put up with this paltry cock for much too long,” she sighs, arching her back and presenting her heavy tits between her arms.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold,” he rasps, modulator hiding the strain in his voice. Xi’an tuts, shaking her head.

“This is my mission, Mando, and I get to decide that.” She cocks her head at him, backing up against the target.

“Does it make you jealous, knowing he’s inside me right now?” she purrs, circling her hips to elicit a choked gasp. Din’s hand tightens on the blaster, forcing his posture to be neutral.

“You did what you had to,” he grits out. Xi’an shrieks out a laugh.

“I didn’t have to fuck him. I wanted to, because I wanted to see what you’d do when another man tries to cum inside me.”

Din’s arm begins to shake, and the monster snarls inside him. Mine, it roars. My fucked up little thing to break.

“What are you going to do, Mando?” she taunts, rolling her hips on the terrified man’s cock.

“What you want.”

Xi’an’s eyes flash in triumph.

“I want to bring him in cold.”

Din shoots a blaster bolt between the man’s eyes, toppling him over and onto the bedroom floor. Xi’an wastes no time crawling to the end of the bed and turning around, round ass in the air.

“Fuck him out of me, Mando.”

They pull orgasm after orgasm out of each other with a dead man on the floor. His blood stains one corner of the bedding, crimson as regret. When Din has her splayed out below him, tits bouncing at the force of his thrusts into her abused pussy, she croaks out a request.

“Take it off.”

He stills inside her, fire in his veins replaced by ice cold clarity.

“No.”

Xi’an snarls at him.

“Show me the face of the man that’s fucking me, Mandalorian.”

His hand comes up around her throat, a warning squeeze rougher than the ones he normally doles out. She quiets, but he has to flip her over to drill out his last orgasm. The disdain on her face is too much.

Seventeen missed holos from Karga. Shadows that follow him when he strides through town. And yet Din can’t pull his head above water. The light get fainter every time. During one mission he freezes in front of a snarling attack massiff and for a blissful moment wonders if its bite would kill him if he bared his throat. Varlo fells it instead, giving Din a confused look as they return to the Crest.

“You been sleeping, Mando? You seem off.”

Din bristles, stride widening.

“Don’t pretend that matters to you.”

Varlo shrugs, veering off to speak to Ranzar. The anger masks the anguish until later that night, when Din begs for the thoughlessness of sleep.

“Need some company, Mando?” Xi’an asks, like she does most nights.

It’s better than guilt, at least.

It’s not long after Xi’an’s hunt that Qin climbs up into the cockpit while Din is piloting. They just entered hyperspace, the streaks of light soothing Din. The quiet sinks into his bones, contrasted against the dread of re-entering the cargo hold. The air is thick with boredom and potential energy waiting for a spark.

He’s turning to leave, find somewhere to escape for a few more moments of peace, when Qin clears his throat. He stands in the doorway, leaning against it with folded arms. Din stills, a standoff between the two men. He was wondering when he might have to endure this conversation.

“Whatever is going on between you and my sister,” Qin starts, right to the meat of the matter. Din respects that he doesn’t pull punches. “You need to figure it out soon. You may be having the time of your life fighting…and fucking.” He sneers at this, making Din’s face scorch under the helmet. “But the longer she thinks something is going to come out of it, the worse it will be when you tell her no.” Qin shifts to stand chest to chest with Din. They’re close in height but in this moment Din feels small and sacrificial.

“She doesn’t like being told no. I’m sure you’ve seen that.”

He has. The helmet is the symbol of his refusal, and Xi’an seethes at it. More than once he’s had to pin her hands down, too bold in her touches. Some days she playfully grabs at the lip, pulling him down to her level, but doesn’t let go quick enough for Din’s liking. Other times she lays her hands on either side and it feels tender. Her eyes soften, and Din wonders if there’s a hurt girl under all the posturing that wants proof that he cares for her.

He’d told her once, as they laid in a post-coital tangle. The Creed, the helmet, why it meant so much to him. He didn’t speak of the covert, or of any other Mandalorians. They both have their own secrets.

“It’s a symbol of my fidelity,” he said. Xi’an lifted up on one elbow and studied the sharp lines and curves of the helmet, fingers tracing the impressive profile.

“How beautiful it must be, to have someone so devoted,” she murmured. “What a gift.”

It’s one he can never give her, and she can never forget it.

“If you aren’t planning on giving her what she wants,” Qin husks, leaning in with a steely gaze. “Don’t drag it out. Make it professional.”

He leaves as quickly as he arrived, the weight of his words now on Mando’s shoulders. Qin has never been kind, but his ultimatum is a balm to Din’s anguish. He needs to end it. If he believes her to have any gentleness underneath her posturing it would be cruel to continue. There is no room in his devotions for her.

The monster inside his chest finally soothes, curls into a ball and sleeps.

She doesn’t take it well.

“You want this to stop?” she laughs, lounging against a tree. Din had deigned to tell her away from the others, wanting privacy and space for her anger to hit a flash point.

“We’re professionals. This is too messy,” Din says, keeping his voice as even and calm as he can. Her face changes from incredulity to anger.

“This isn’t over just because you get a crisis of conscience.” She pushes off the tree and stalks towards him, suspicion coloring her demeanor. “Did my brother say something to you?”

That’s a trap he’s not going to walk into.

“I can’t give you what you want,” Din says, holding his ground as she comes chest to chest, much like her sibling. How alike they are in their ruthlessness.

“Of course you can. You’ve got a perfectly good cock and talented fingers and some Maker-blessed stamina. Plus you’re filthy,” she purrs, raising goosebumps on Din’s neck. “What else does a girl need?”

Din tilts his head, watching her closely as he sees the shroud of the lie settle.

“The helmet,” he sighs, exasperated. His words hit the target. Xi’an’s features twist, shocked out of her feigned nonchalance.

“You’re ending this over a stupid little symbol?” she spits out, circling him like a prowling loth-cat. Din tenses, tempted to follow her path but knowing she’ll take advantage of it. He prepares for a blade.

“I won’t remove it for you. And I’m done fighting you trying to do it yourself.”

There’s a moment where he sees the hurt girl he’s trying to spare. It’s quickly raked back with fury. She hisses, digging her fingers into his cowl and yanking him backwards. He stumbles to his knees, his cape now wrapped around her forearms as she cuts off his air .

“All your morals and high ground as you’re spilling as much blood as we are, Mando. Defiling my body as you pray to your Creed. You’ll be crawling back to my cunt in no time, and I’ll slit your throat before I let you make a fool out of me.” Just as his vision begins to darken she releases her hold, letting painful lungfuls of air back into his chest. One boot kicks him square in the back, and he topples forward into the dirt.

“You’ll regret this, Mandalorian.”

She storms off to the Crest, leaving him gasping and coughing. He wishes, not for the first time, that he never shook Malk’s hand, never let them onto the Crest, never let Karga talk him into this.

He wishes for time to stop, to take back everything the last months had carved out of his soul. For a bed, and a soothing touch.

(where is she now? Could she ever look at him the same way, after all he’s done?)

“New assignment,” Malk calls down, a groan of relief lifting the mood in the hold. “Big yield, and even bigger hush money.”

Qin grins, jostling his sister as Malk descends to them. She nods, listless since their argument. Din prefers that to the rage. It still pulls at a confusing feeling in his chest, something akin to regret.

“Where we off to? I’ve been itching to get out of this karking morgue,” Varlo gripes, taking the holopad from Malk.

“Cleanup effort on Alzoc III. There’s some mines infested with a local species the mining company needs cleared out. Not sentient, but territorial. Mando, need you in the air. Varlo, running logistics. Qin, Xi’an, you’re with me doing ground work.”

Din rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles. A big haul should set everyone up for a good while. Improve spirits, and maybe give him the boost to break away from this group that only becomes more hostile by the day. His silence will cost him, but with enough credits he may be able to buy himself back into the covert, and the Guild’s good favor.

Alzoc III it is.

The planet is icy and hostile, vast snow-swept tundras and sharp peaks slicing up into the permanently gray skies. The harsh weather eats up heat from the outside in, the Crest’s life support systems working overtime to keep the interior above freezing. Din had to pull out a heavier flight suit, the other crew members donning furs and goggles in preparation for the mission. Xi’an had taken to glaring at Mando any time he was in the room, so he’d stayed in the cockpit for most of the trip. Malk had scoffed at him, standing behind the pilot’s chair as Din maneuvered them out of hyperspace.

“Women problems, Mando?”

Din did not deign to give him an answer, but Malk persisted.

“Not a good idea to mix business and pleasure. A man of your experience should be more careful,” he says, clapping a hand on Din’s paudron. He tenses, but Malk releases him quickly after and heads into the tense hold with a snicker under his breath.

Din can’t wait to have the Crest to himself. Months of close quarters were making him itchy with tension, a constant frenetic thrum under his skin that he can’t even fuck out now. Varlo’s company would be silent at least. Plus a simple point-and-shoot mission has its appeal. The rest of the dossier states that the mines are overrun to the point that they can’t send in crews to extract the planet’s precious commodities.

Varlo plots a multi-stage assault; Malk, Xi’an and Qin would place bombs at mine entrances and pick off anything that could tip off the plan. Once at their sniper posts, Din would aerial attack the mines from above, detonating the bombs and dropping his own payloads to collapse strategic parts of the tunnels. The mining company provided blueprints, and designated the choke points that would create the least amount of cleanup effort for them after the fact.

In retrospect, when Din’s nightmares push into this shadowy period of his life, it was so well thought out it should have made him pause. They didn’t need highly skilled mercenaries, they needed bodies to carry out this plan. What the company really bought was silence, and anonymity.

Din circles the Crest just out of range of the mines, waiting for the go signal from Malk. Varlo lounges in the jump seat, occasionally speaking through his communicator. Din doesn’t much enjoy conversing with Varlo, so of course this is the time he decides to be chatty.

“So, was she purple like…all over?” Varlo says, raising the hackles on Din’s back.

“You can ask her yourself. I’m sure she’d love to tell you,” Din replies calmly, banking a little harder to the left than he means to. Varlo chuckles low in his throat, his gaze burning into Din’s back.

“I mean I could, but it’s more professional curiosity. I’m surprised she hasn’t gutted you in your sleep yet.”

“Mando, time to shine!” Malk’s voice rings from the Crest’s holocomm.

“Roger,” Din murmurs, the muscle memory of his training kicking in as the Crest dives into the valley. Everything that’s plagued him for months - the loss of control, the cloying atmosphere, Xi’an’s magnetic push and pull - all fades into the background when he’s flying. His shoulders loosen, grip on the controls firm but relaxed. The lift and dip of the Crest is a familiar dance, lapping waves on a beach he’s never visited but somehow always knows.

Then the first explosion appears through the transparisteel, and he dives into action.

The entire assault lasts maybe a quarter hour. Each explosion triggered by Malk is timed with another bomb Varlo releases out the cargo doors. The more powerful weapons hit their mark, miles of tunnels collapsing with shifting snow to fill in the depressions. Sometimes a small group of moving creatures - barely perceptible - burst from an entry, and the on-ground team quickly eradicates them. Din isn’t even sure he feels the cold creeping into the ship, too wrapped up in the warmth of a skill he’s honed for decades being used to its utmost ability.

“That’s it, Mando, we’ll bring her down to pick up the rest at the hanger pad.” Varlo indicates a vast stretch of buildings, no doubt some shipping operation, with a generous landing zone. Din wonders how much trade must happen on this desolate planet, and how pitiful their price must be compared to the credits the company rakes in.

Once landed, Varlo leaves to speak with their contact and provide a final report. Malk gets the payment, but he’ll be a little while traipsing across the frozen grounds. Din takes the lack of anyone on his ship as a brief moment of respite, checking for any potential damage and wandering through the cluttered living space. His annoyance at the mess is less than usual, the silence after a job well done vastly improving his mood.

Deeper in the ship checking on engine function, Din hears a clatter. His shoulders slump again. He’d hoped for a little more peace and quiet before they returned. Trudging out to the cargo bay, he’s met with an even stranger sight.

Varlo left the cargo door open, the windbreak from the surrounding buildings keeping the elements at a minimum. Instead of the crew ascending the ramp, two furred creatures freeze just inside the warmth of the Crest. The larger one puts its body between Din and the smaller one, four black pearl eyes locked on him. His hand itches to grab his blaster, absolutely certain these are the creatures infesting the mines. They’re supposed to be hostile, ferocious and powerfully strong. He might be able to take one, but two could be a problem. He steels himself for a charge, but the larger one holds up one long-clawed hand, three fingers spread in the universal symbol for wait.

Din stops, confusion and a cold pit of dread opening in his stomach. The larger creature looks back at the smaller one, stroking its face as they make high pitched chirps and buzzes at each other through strange tubular mouths. Their fur is matted white and gray, easy to blend in on the tundra, as they tower taller than most bipedal creatures Din has encountered. The brief conference concluded, the larger creature rummages in its fur.

Din snaps his hand to his blaster, unholstering it in a flash to point at the creatures. The smaller one squeals - Din swears it’s in terror - and the larger one whips its head up to look at Din. It stills, one hand now held out overflowing with baubles. Din’s blaster falters as the creature takes a tentative step forward, offering lustrous milky pearls. His throat closes up, but his training keeps his weapon on them. At his lack of movement the creature looks back at the smaller one, urging it forward. It holds their faces together, foreheads touching as plaintive whines cut through the air. The pearls transfer, and the larger of the two urges the smaller forward.

Din can’t breathe, chest banded with horror. The littler creature holds out the offering, clicking and chirping as the larger one waits back. It’s all too clear to a man who lost his family in a war he did not understand what this transaction is, and what the consequences of his actions means. He drops the blaster, stepping towards the creatures. They shrink back in fear, but the little one still holds out shaking hands, pearls dropping to clink on the durasteel floor.

“I…” he says, heart hammering in his throat. The larger one - the mother, he thinks - raises its head with something like hope.

“What the kark?!” Varlo shouts, ascending the ramp. Din tries to speak, to explain that everything has gone so wrong in a handful of moments, but Varlo’s blaster is already out.

Three bolts, loosed with deadly efficiency, and the smaller creature falls, pearls scattering on the floor and rolling away. The shriek of the larger creature will haunt Din for years, as clear as the day he heard it when he finds another pearl lost in the ship.

“No!” Din screams, but Varlo is already turning to the charging creature. Three powerful swipes knock him down, blood spurting into snow, before he fells the creature with another series of blaster bolts. Then it’s just Din, gasping amongst the gore. Sobs wrench his throat, hot tears running down his cheeks as he shakes on his feet.

“Fuck, Mando…need…kit,” Varlo gasps. The creature cut him deep, flashes of white bone peeking through the layers of flesh. Blood dribbles from his lips, teeth stained red as he struggles to breathe. His voice is faraway and tinny, but Din’s body answers. He walks numbly to Varlo’s side, kneeling beside the man’s mutilated body.

“They were sentient,” he says, and the horror blends into anger, one hotter and more encompassing than any he’s ever felt.

“Get me a Maker-damned bacta shot!” Varlo burbles, a rough cough spraying blood on Din’s chestplate. He’s not sure when he decided to slit Varlo’s throat, but one moment he’s alive, the next he’s laid out with unseeing eyes, the messy slash of a vibroblade mimicking the brutal claw marks.

He doesn’t remember moving the creatures’ bodies, laying them down on the icy ground outside the Crest.

He doesn’t remember what he tells the others when they return. Xi’an and Qin stalk by, barely affected. Malk chews the inside of his cheek, staring at Varlo’s corpse for a few moments before entering the Crest.

“Split is four ways now. First come first serve to his things. We take off in 5.”

Din doesn’t recall where his body was during takeoff, or once they got into hyperspace. The events play like a holovid missing an actor, feelings and sensations eerily absent. He thinks he piloted them off world, attributed to muscle memory. He remembers a conversation, but not with who, or why it began.

“The species was sentient. They tried to barter to get on the ship.”

“Mando….”

“One attempted to sacrifice itself for the other. An animal can’t do that.”

“We got paid not to ask questions.”

“That wasn’t a mission. That was genocide.”

“You’ve done worse, Mando. We all have.”

Except that wasn’t true. In the song of Din Djarin, this would always be his greatest sin.

One tip to the New Republic was all it took. A set of coordinates and a date and time. Malk wanted to gamble and whore after Alzoc III, and Qin and Xi’an had no qualms. Din only sat silently, the days since the genocide bleeding into one another. Xi’an had tried to tease him about it - seems like you lucked out against those claws - but his cold turn of the head and quick exit quieted her tongue.

He waited for them to leave, credits in hand, before reporting their whereabouts to the New Republic garrison. He conveniently left himself and the Crest out, detailing his crewmates’ crimes and exactly where they would be. Then he laid low, waiting for enough time to pass so as to not arouse suspicion.

He would not see Qin or Malk for many more years, though he’d hear of their escape from some Guild contacts. Not much could hold either of them for long. Xi’an didn’t leave him so quietly.

“Karking traitor!” she screams, leaping on his back outside of the Crest. A blade sinks into his shoulder, ripping a cry from his lips. She pulls it out and drives it back in his bicep, his hands scrabbling to throw her off. She gets him two more times before he crushes her against the Crest��s hull, knocking her grip loose. His left arm is screaming, blood pouring down his fingers.

“After all we did for you, you turned us in?!” Her knife hits home again, swinging to stab into his calf and the meat of his thigh in quick succession. Din disarms her, skittering the knife away, before landing a blow in the center of her chest that, with a little more force, could have stopped her cruel heart. She lies gasping on the ground, eyes wide and wild as they look at him towering over her. For a moment that uncomfortable feeling pulls at him again, something like regret and remorse and a mourning of what could have been. It weakens him enough to kneel down, body screaming.

“I’m sorry…” he tries to say, the next words lost in his turmoil. Sorry for starting whatever fucked-up thing they had between them? Sorry for not being able to give her what she wanted? Sorry for how it was destined to end?

Another blade sinks into his side, ripping down as she screeches.

“You are nothing but a traitor, Mandalorian. Betrayer of your allies, of your Creed. I hope your Maker-damned helmet ends up in the gutter with your corpse.”

He yanks the blade free, head dizzy at the realization that much of his blood is on the ground instead of inside him. He puts one hand around Xi’an’s neck and squeezes down. She’s out in seconds, dragged to the hangar entrance for the New Republic guards to find. Safe or not, he takes off with the Crest and manages to close up enough of his wounds with the cauterizer to stop the bleeding, burnt flesh singing his nostrils. He blindly dials in coordinates for Nevarro, barely staying conscious through the jump. Once autopilot kicks in he dips into darkness.

The Guild takes him back. Begrudgingly. He pays his dues and offers them the pearls the creature spilled across the hold. Their value surprises him, almost annoyed he didn’t save some for himself, but the thought of his own pockets lined with treasures given by the dead chills his blood. He leaves them all with Karga, and waits for the distrust to fade from his face.

The covert welcomes him back with disapproval. His wounds spare him for a few weeks, sequestered from the rest of his people. It makes him ache, the obvious disappointment of his alor and the wariness of his fellow Mandalorians. The rumors swirl about where and why he was gone so long, why their beroya would betray them. He takes his penance, every blow and setback and humiliation. It is no worse than how he punishes himself.

When he returns to the Crest, tucked in the back of a trusted hangar, the mess strewn about the hold claws at his throat. He removes every memory of those months, setting belongings and refuse outside the cargo doors for scavengers to pick through. Even his own personal items make it into the pile, the memories attached to them too painful.

He cleans the ship top to bottom. No more hammocks strung from every corner. No more constant noise. No more ever-mounting tension. Just durasteel and silence.

It takes a full day to bring the Crest back to pre-Malk condition. The darkness surrounds Din, and after weighing the pros and cons of returning in the night he closes the cargo door. Shuttling open the small cubby sleeping space, he crawls in and settles on his side. The door slides shut with the lights dimming soon after.

Din lies there as his body slowly quiets, his armor digging into his sore shoulder, tender ribs and neck. Piece by piece he removes it, laying the shining examples of his honor beside him. The helmet is last, and it’s the first time in months he’s been able to breathe without it inside his own ship. The pillow is measly under his head, but he sinks down with a sigh. Arms tucked into his chest, knees pulled up to his stomach, surrounded by the walls of his ship and nothing else, he lets himself mourn the deeds he’d done. It will be far from the last time, but this is the rawest, the most painful as he let the shame grip him. Once exhaustion wins the hums and whirrs of the Crest lull him to sleep.

Din doesn’t tell you about Xi’an. It’s a lie of omission - you never prod him on his past, and he rarely asks about yours. There’s no reason to dredge up pain. If you want to offer something you do, and if you truly ask him he’ll offer pieces of his own. But you’re not swapping stories around the fire. So he sees no reason to tell you.

Until one day, he does.

It was the perfect sandstorm of triggers. A child snarling at her brother, then squealing out a laugh that cuts through his head. The singing of blades through the air as some men toss them at a target. A purple Twi’lek between you and Din, reaching out a hand to clap your shoulder. Din’s hurried steps bring him to your side in record time, helmet tilted down in challenge but the Twi just looks at him curiously and takes a step back. Your own brow knits, a bag of supplies in hand.

He tries to center himself back on the Crest, busying his racing thoughts with jump calculations and messages to contacts about the Jedi. It works until you climb up to the cockpit, leaning against the console as he turns his attention to you.

“Bean found something in the ship, I thought it might be important,” you say, holding out your upturned palm.

A pearl.

He thought he’d found them all, but the child’s nosiness unearthed one last bloody memory. He freezes, hands tight on the console.

“Been holding onto some treasure?” you tease, but your face is uneasy as you sense the tension in the air. “I’ll put it somewhere safe, maybe we can barter it…”

“No,” Din rebukes sharply, snapping the visor to you. Your eyes widen, chest curling in on yourself.

“Okay,” you say quietly, hand closing around the painful object. Din slumps, leaning forward and hanging his head.

“I’m sorry, it’s…nothing good will come of that. It was bought with blood,” he says quietly.

“So are most things on the Crest,” you say, wrapping your arms around your middle. Din heaves in a breath.

“Not the same kind.”

And so he tells you the story of Ranzar Malk and his employment, of the acidic crew and the six cloying months he spent with them. Of Xi’an and her allure, and the pain it caused. Of Alzoc III. Of the pearls.

You listen in silence, watching as Din relates his darkest story. The shame burns his skin, eats at his stomach, sours his tongue. How can he possibly redeem himself in your eyes after this? Would you ever look at him the same again?

Once he finishes, and the quiet of the ship pervades, you move to stand between his parted knees. Two hands settle on his shoulders, and without reservation he wraps his arms around and lays his head just below your breasts. The rhythmic inhale-exhale of your breathing cools his pain.

“Have you seen any of them since?” you ask. Din huffs out a sigh.

“Malk hired me for a job a few months back. Didn’t tell me the mission, just relied on a debt being repaid and the Crest still flying.” Din shifts against you, considering leaning away, but your firm hands keep him held to your chest.

“Was it bad?”

“We were rescuing Qin from a prison ship. Xi’an was there, set me up to be killed by the new team. I left them there.” After the draining retelling, he can’t bring himself to extrapolate on the tense reunion.

Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand.

I did what I had to.

Oh, but you liked it.

You were hired to do a job, so do it.

Isn’t that your code?

Aren’t you a man of honor?

“Thank you for telling me,” you finally say, stroking your thumbs along the line of his shoulders. “That was…difficult. To tell, I’m sure. It was hard to hear.” Din fists your shirt, squeezing his eyes closed at what will surely come.

“You made decisions and you’ve suffered the consequences of them.” You cup the back of his neck through his cowl. “And if you think I haven’t made a terrible decision about who to trust, I have stories I can share. Later,” you say, lightness in your voice. It makes Din lean back to look at your face. If you could see his, you would know his mouth is dropped open, eyes wide and wet, as you stroke the sharp lines of his helmet. You’re the only one he trusts to touch.

“Did you think I would hate you for this?” you ask, and Din’s nod is barely perceptible but you feel it. “You’ll surprise me, and terrify me many more times Mando, but you’ll never drive me away. The galaxy is only shades of gray.”

He lets you hold him for a time, hands soothing on his worn body. Your acceptance doesn’t heal him. By now he’s not sure anything will. But it balms the wound enough to breathe easier.

It’s the beginning of letting himself know you, and be known by you. When you say that your best friend taught you how to skip rocks, he asks how you met her. When you look on in wonder as he dresses a piece of game, he explains how his buir taught him survival hunting. And when the child wraps his tiny claw around Din’s thumb and he strokes it gently, you ask him if he has a son somewhere.

“No,” Din answers, the child warm in his arm and your body close enough to coax into his, if he would dare let himself want it. “But the Creed states the importance of caring for foundlings, and raising warriors.”

You hum and smile, turning back to your task, and for a moment much longer than fleeting, Din lets himself wonder if this is what a clan is supposed to feel like, and when it grew from two to three.

END

Interlude 2 of the I Think of You series

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