#favorite part of drawing this was making it VERY clear that even if yellow and duck stack on top of each other

[threepuppetguys]

saw this and. yea

#dont hug me im scared #dhmis #dhmis red guy #dhmis duck #dhmis yellow guy #fluffybird #dhmis fanart #three of them #YEA #favorite part of drawing this was making it VERY clear that even if yellow and duck stack on top of each other #red is still taller. he will always be the tallest #my art

[tcfactory]

Since my brain has been full of SVSSS brainrot lately:

I want a fic where the transmigration mostly fails and Shen Jiu wakes up from his qi deviation as User002 with the goddamn System treating him like he is Shen Yuan. Trashy yellow book what??? No, he doesn't need stats on his fellow peak lords, if he is supposed to follow a plot then he wants to see the script! You wretched floating rectangle, how is he supposed to play along if he doesn't know the source material?!

The stress of having what feels like a very pushy curse or an insanely weird demon inflicted upon him makes him deviate from some minor plot points and he gets punished for being OOC a couple of times until the System takes pity on him and directs him to Airplane bro, with the very clear suggestion that if he can't remember the early arcs of the story - System understands, User! It's very long after all. UwU - he should go and discuss it with the author.

He basically kicks down Shang Qinghua's door in desperation for some clarity and maybe an explanation, right now before he works himself into a stress-induced qi deviation, Shang-shidi. Shang hamster looks at his miserable scum villain, takes a deep breath, brings out all of Shen Qingqiu's favorite snacks that nobody should know about, makes a pot of calming tea and tells him everything.

Shang Qinghua expects Shen Qingqiu to be angry, to rip into him for writing him into this wretched life. And Shen Jiu is angry, but not at Qinghua. His anxious, mousy little shidi who lives his entire life under the looming threat of a horrible, seemingly unchangeable future doesn't look like a god. Shang Qinghua, who does his best to run his peak well and look out for his disciples despite his admittance that in the story the original Qinghua did a shoddy job - he doesn't look like someone who would have put pen to paper and written a tragedy if he knew it would become someone's reality.

And how could Shen Jiu, who has seen people sell their bodies and their very dignity for a cup of stale water, judge someone for writing a very bad yellow book so he can eat? Please. Peak Lord Shen might have developed a very discerning taste in literature over the years, but you can't fill your stomach with artistic integrity, Shang-shidi. Shen Jiu understands.

So they sit and for that first evening, Shen Qingqiu listens to all the differences creeping into the story, Shang Qinghua's retelling of the drafts he abandoned due to peer pressure, the long rambling tangents of the research he's done, even if they never made it into the story. Qinghua is so caught up in having someone to talk to that he doesn't realize that Shen Qingqiu put everything that happened to Qi-ge together, somewhere between the musings about how a sword inspired by kintsugi would be so cool looking, shame that nobody ever sees the thing, and the griping about how much one of his patrons complained about Yue Qingyuan dying without ever drawing his sword.

Later, when the snacks are gone and the tea is replaced with something stronger, he tells Shen Qingqiu about the stories he really wanted to write. About how he shamefully sneaked his dream man into PIDW, just so he could have some small part to himself, and oh, Shen Qingqiu will have to remind him about demon courting practices when they are both sober again, because it sounds like that Mobei prince is down bad for him.

He leaves that night with a newfound determination. Shang Qinghua might be resigned to the whims of his System and the shackles of the Plot, but Shen Jiu didn't burn the Qiu manor down and break his chains to give up so easily. This is his world, his sect, his Qi-ge on the line, and he would sooner wrest control from the System and become custodian of the world himself than let something take away and ruin what is his. He is the strategist of Cang Qiong Sect, there is no situation he can't think a way out of and he has had enough of tragedies.

Before any of that, however, he needs to go and have a good yell at his Qi-ge, smack his stupid face and then curl up in his arms for a good night's sleep. It's long overdue.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #shang qinghua #that last bit can be read as qijiu or platonic #but I'm personally very partial to qijiu. they just have so much tasty tasty tragedy to sink your teeth into #sqq fixing the world by directing his anger at the right thing for once? more likely than you'd think #idk how they would deal with all the binghe related nonsense but sqq is nothing if not resourceful #tc writes

[maskyartist]

@mirrow-hamato and @warning-heckmouth both have violently infected me with brainworms after seeing their posts on Clay being the one in the Diamond instead of Floyd so may I offer y’all fine Clay lovin folks-

A lil bit of my own personal Crystal Clear Clay AU :)

Under the cut don’t wanna make it long but yeah lil ficlet under the cut cause this concept has me insane bonkers crazy! And if I can’t draw it may as well write it

The room was dark and quiet. The air, cold and empty, as lifeless as the little creature trapped in its cage feels in this moment. Then again, is it new? To feel so much smaller? So much weaker?

Clay curls up in the silence of the recording booth, tail tucked neatly under his head as he stares at his reflection in the crystalline wall of his Diamond prison.

How long has it been? Since he’s been stolen away from the Putt Putts? How long has he been syphoned of his essence, of his talent? How long has he had to deal with the constant existence that was Velvet and Veneer? And Crimp, too, he supposes.

He really doesn’t like Velvet. Then again, she doesn’t like him, either. They were aiming for Floyd. Clay may not know much beyond the walls of the Putt Putt Greens, but he knows his brothers. Remembers them well enough. He knew Floyd would always strive for bigger and better things. He thrived under the spotlight, it shouldn’t surprise him that’s who the twins wanted. Floyd would’ve made a great solo career…

They didn’t get John Dory, the leader with a voice that could truly project across entire stadiums, no microphone required.

They didn’t get Spruce, the confidence, the posture, the heartthrob personality that must be carrying him now. He was such a charmer.

They didn’t get Floyd, who’s already incredible enough for reasons stated earlier.

Even Bitty B…sweet little Branch. The voice of an angel, that’s what he had. He would rather die then let his babiest brother get hurt like this, but he knows.

Anyone is better then Clay.

.

.

.

“Which one was he again…? The stupid one or something?” Veneer asks, mostly to his sister as he looks Clay over in his newly obtained prison.

“The uh…the fun one.” Clay murmured. “I’m the fun one.”

“Since when?” Velvet plucked the capsule from Veneer’s hands to glare at him. Clay was never tough. He just presses further into the Diamond walls. She rolls her eyes and looks at her brother. “This is why I don’t let you do important tasks! We were supposed to get a talented one, not some run down side-show!”

Veneer pouts at his sister, crossing his arms. “He’s still part of Brozone! Maybe he’s got some talent left?”

“There better be! That’s the only reason we needed one of them, and this one better be worth it!” Velvet huffs. “Hopefully, we’ll find some actual talent on the way home.”

.

.

.

He’s not stupid. Probably one of the smartest out of his brothers, at this point. He knew from the moment the band became popular he was no one’s favorite. Always the other brother. Always the yellow one. People never knew his name. Just his title. He never got much fanmail, or cheers, or anything, really. He was just…

The funny one. And now he’s not even that anymore.

Even more humiliating, Clay was no one without that title. No one without the band. No one without his brothers. He wanted to find people who respected him, took him seriously, and now…

A sigh. Clay stares at the purple walls of his prison and can only do one thing.

Accept defeat, and wait for whatever happens next-

*clatter! clang!*

-…maybe the AC’s acting up. Doesn’t change that Clay can only give up hope and-

*BAM!*

“MR. CLAY!”

-“Viva?!”

Jolting to his feet, Clay races to the very front of his prison, paws presses to the Diamond wall as he watches Viva land with surprising accuracy. If he wasn’t so amazed, he’d give her 10 across the board. What a landing, ladies and gentlemen, what a landing, indeed.

Feeling Viva’s paws press to his, the warmth radiating through the thick crystal walls, makes Clay relax with a happy smile. He didn’t think seeing a familiar face would feel so good.

“You still have my braid?” Viva asks, causing Clay to smile brighter. She loves braiding peoples hair, and Clay was her favorite subject, since his tends to stick in strange places.

Just before he was stolen away, Viva managed to put a small braid in his hair while he was asleep. Took him all day to figure out it was there. Now…

He shrugs. “Looks too nice to get rid of now, dontcha think?” He runs a paw through the braid. A few strands stick out here and there, but he can fix it. He will fix it. He can’t lose this piece of her.

Turning to the task at hand, Clay gazed at Viva. “What’re you doing here? How did you even find me?” He has to ask, because there’s no way. There’s no possible way-

Viva gives him a nervous smile. “Well, after you got taken, I might’ve spent some time alone…thinking…”

Clay’s heart aches. He didn’t want to scare Viva. He promised to always be there for her. Be by her side. Never leave like the people she had before. They were family, forever and always. And yet…

With a shake of her head, the cheeriness returns full force. “I couldn’t leave you out here to dry! So, I followed the footsteps, and after a bit of sneaking and searching, BAM!” A powerful karate slice in the air. Viva flashes Clay a broad grin, all fangs and fake confidence. “I found you!”

Clay can’t help but be stunned.

“You left the village…to find me?” Clay whispers, utterly astonished at the idea. Why would she? Just for him? “But, aren’t you scared?”

“Oh, terrified!”

Same ol’ Viva, it seems…

She presses harder on the Crystal, determination clear on her face. “But it’s like we always say. No Troll left behind. Not again.”

With that, Clay watches as Viva backs up to reach into her hair, pulling out two large sticky hands. Holding the leads like whips, she tosses both atop the bottle and steadies her footing. Then, the bottle begins to tip. Back and forth, back and forth. Clay is wobbled here and there, only catching up to her plan on his second hit into a wall. She’s trying to…unscrew the top? With the sticky hands, it seems. Clay would have more hope, but…

“Viva-!” Ouch, now he’s on the floor again. And thrown against a wall. And on the floor. Wall. Floor. Wall again, or is this meant to be the floor?

“VIVA, STOP!”

The Diamond stops with a clatter, Clay finally sitting up with steadiness again. Oof, he thinks he might hurl… The container has been tipped to its side, and Viva clearly hasn’t heeded his advice, as she now uses the sticky hands as grips for her paws to dig and attempt to twist the top off.

“Hold on!” She struggles, voice hitched as she tries her hardest. It’s like with the tunnel, watching her bloody her paws trying to dig through rubble and debris for just a chance to find them all again. “I can do it! I can! I’ll get you home, a-and we’ll all be safe again.”

“Viva…”

“We’ll fortify the defenses! You’re super good at that! Maybe a thicker door?”

“Viva.”

“More turf, too, could definitely use more turf. Is it a bad idea to pull our pods underground-?”

“Viva!”

Finally, she stops, staring at Clay who stares right back. He wants to hold her face. He wants to wipe her panicked tears and swear up and down it’ll all be okay.

Instead, all he can do is lay his paws on the wall, and feel her warmth as she moves from sticky hand to Diamond. Just to indulge him… She’s too selfless sometimes.

“This case…” A shake of his head. “It’s made of Diamond. Enchanted Diamond. There’s one thing can shatter Enchanted Diamond.”

“Ah-hah!” Viva grins. “I’ll find a Diamond breaking Hammer and come back-!”

“No, Viva, the perfect family harmony!” Clay stomps his foot. “It’s gotta be the perfect family harmony. That’s the only magic we Trolls have that’s strong enough to shatter Diamond.”

“Oh…” Tail wrapped around her leg, Viva gives Clay a furrowed brow. “And that means…”

“I’d need my brothers.” Clay finishes. The utter hopelessness on his face makes Viva wilt herself. She knows about his brothers. He wasn’t exactly shy about it, the many years after his return to the pod, the escape from the Burgens, they had time to connect and grow close. Viva knows as much about Clay as he knows about her.

She knows how bad it was for Clay. How awful he’d feel. How forgotten he’d feel. To know it’s going to take those same brothers to save him…she must know it’d be impossible. Viva is idealistic, she’s not stupid. Not by a long stop.

He’d feel guilty, but…he can’t feel much of anything as realization crashes into him like a speeding train. “My brothers…who are so scattered, we never even sent letters…”

The brothers who must’ve fully, and completely, forgotten him by now.

“Mr. Clay, please, this can’t be the only way!”

“It is, Viva.” He admits quietly. “This is it. If I could tell you where they were, I would, but I can’t.” Clay chokes out. Because why wouldn’t he? Why can’t it hurt, knowing just how forgotten he is? Why didn’t he ever try and find them? He’s so stupid, so, so, stupid-

Just then, before Viva can say anything, the doorknob clicks open, and Clay slams his paws against the Diamond to get her attention faster then the opening door could. “You have to go. Now!”

“But, Clay-!”

“GO!” Clay demands, nearly rattling the bottle as he pushes against the Diamond, trying to push Viva towards an exit. “If they trap you too, we’re helpless!”

“Clay…”

The chatter is getting closer. Clay stares Viva right in the eye.

“Viva, you are the smartest, strongest Troll I have ever met, and I’m so proud to call you my Queen.” Putt Putt needed a ruler, after all. “So please, do this for your people… They can’t be left without a ruler.”

With a disgruntled face, a moment of hesitation, Viva grabs her sticky hands and yanks them off the Diamond casing, flinging them to the air duct above the table.

“I’LL COME BACK FOR YOU!” She swears. “I’LL FIND A WAY TO SAVE YOU! WHATEVER IT TAKES! NO TROLL LEFT BEHIND!”

Her voice fades as she tucks into the air duct, right as-

“Alright, who’s ready to start recording!”

“Ugh, Crimp! You’re already being annoying and we just got here!”

“Go be a pest somewhere else.”

-Clay sighs in relief as Velvet, Veneer, and Crimp pile into the room just as Viva manages to slip away.

Now to just make it though the day. Something that is much, much harder then it sounds.

At least it’s easy to allow that throbbing pain of having the literal talent sucked out of him to fade away when he’s lost in thought, thinking of Viva, reciting his favorite books by heart in his head…

Yet, he’s not even safe in his mind. Not when he knows the truth.

“I’LL FIND A WAY TO SAVE YOU! WHATEVER IT TAKES!”

It’d take a damn miracle to get his brothers together for long enough to practice, let alone save him from this.

“NO TROLL LEFT BEHIND!”

Then why did he leave them behind? Why was he so selfish? Why was he so stupid? And why is he still stupid, hoping they’ll magically appear, just as Viva promised?

Clay simply takes to using the reflection in his Diamond prison as a mirror to adjust his braid. Viva was the one to put it in just before his Trollnapping, after all.

At least he has one good family to hold onto…

Makes it hard to know he’ll be leaving them behind, too.

He’s such a terrible brother…no wonder he’s forgotten.

#masky’s penmenship #ficlet #Drabble #trolls #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls clay #Clay trolls #trolls Viva #Viva trolls #how do u tag these lil shits????

[ruporas]

back again for more bound to want rambles. whoops <3

i'm talking about color this time

there's not much to say about part 1 since you were really consistent with the dull, hazy yellow, but i LOVE it all the same. it's like an old, worn out photograph. it fits with the messy dream vibe So Well and makes everything feel even More out of focus, adding perfectly to the effects of roses and thorns and other dream-like effects you added in place of boxy panels (ADORE IT)

i also just hfkjdhgssg i love how that color persists even AFTER vash wakes up in part 1. the messy dream lines have faded and we're snapped back into stiff, reality-ground boxes, but that hazy color is still there. still pervading everything. vash is awake now, but the dream still has him.

but then moving on to part 2, we're back to your usual color-scheme with the dark green/light pink combo... or so i THOUGHT, BUT LIKE THE ENTIRE FREAKING PART 2 IS STEEPED IN SAD GREEN HGJFKDHLGSFDSKJGHFDLKSJGHFDSLKJHGFLKDJSHG

except for 2 exceptions.

when ww sits vash down for a drink they have a pink bg, but it doesn't have that airy, happy feel that that color usually holds. there's this subtle ring of green around it, and a static effect around the outside of this little bubble of warmth. almost like they are happy to be together and share this moment despite the issues they're having, but the weight of what's going on keeps seeping in

(and ik i'm talking about color but i'm OBSESSED with the poses in this panel. ww and vash are essentially sitting the same exact way- right arm up on the table and body turned left- but they're mirrored in opposite directions. they won't face each other, even though they're exactly the same. and ww, honest in this moment, faces the camera while vash turns away. ghakfjghdsfkgjhdg)

also i lied there's more than 2 exceptions. when ww apologizes, there's this really deeeeep dark pink in the bg of the small panel vash reacts in. happiness tainted by all his pain and confliction, i assume

and this isn't pink, but i lost my MIND over that static-y spotlight effect on wolfwood in the next page. it reminds me of a few symbolism things, but i don't feel them that strongly so i'd love to know if u had anything specific in mind drawing it that way!!

but anyway a page later when vash is thinking about how "unfair" it is that he doesn't deserve ww, but ww won't leave, there's this gorgeous static, pink/green effect going on again. all these conflicted emotions and pain and want jfdhgsfdkghjdskg

but my favorite FREAKING part is after the ID, the FACE that vash makes as he finally breaks, and there's just this RING of true, soft pink around him as the green finally dissipates

and then panel 2 rolls around with wolfwood and it's almost entirely gone. barely present in the occasional "ribbon" effects that flow around the pages afterwards- still there in the background and still hanging over them- but it's okay now. that sad, painful green doesn't encompass them anymore. it's just spaced naturally throughout their lives, which is how it is for normal, healthy relationships.

i just.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH.

SYMBOLISM METAPHORS AND MASTERFUL DETAILWORK I COULD TALK ALL DAY ABOUT COLOR ALONE

:D!!

the color choices are also… my steps of becoming a better artist… grips fists DMGKSDMGKS BUT YES, THANK YOU FOR YOUR ANALYSIS ON BOTH PARTS!!! i'm very glad the diluted yellow could give that kind of feeling, and things are definitely more deliberate in the second part, given there's more colors now to work with!!!

vashwood consists constantly of heavy thoughts, looming agony and pending tragedy, but in these rare moments where they get to just have each other, it gets to clear and they can feel like the only two people in the world, for just a teensy tiny second! i like to build that white/pink space as a tangible place for them kind of, not always, but i realized it's a common string in my vw comics.

i'm curious to know what you were thinking of symbolically for that wolfwood spotlight panel!!! frankly, there wasn't a lot of thought behind it! it's just the narrow focus of vash now that wolfwood's in front of him and their conversation has come to a quiet, the heaviness of wolfwood's vulnerable leaving the space for a bit, leaving just wolfwood's prescence.

also thank you for sending this in particular, bc this is what made me realize i forgot page 4. AND THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN FOR YOUR LOVELY ANALYSIS!!!!! i don't have disputes, it's pretty much on the nose of what i hoped and intended for those moments to come across. i'm glad it was effective! thank you!!

#asks #THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN i owe u my life

[techycatartist]

For the next part of “Rollerswitched!”, I wanted to focus on two coasters with identical (or very similar) layouts. Kingda Ka fits that to a T, as his coaster has a “sibling” in Top Thrill Dragster. But there’s something else about this “role-swap” that makes it different from the Phoenix/Twister pair; I don’t have a TTD personification to “swap” with. This is reflected in his design, as it was moreso of changing the theme of the outfit instead of re-formatting a TTD personification’s outfit into Ka’s. While you might think this means I only have one drawing to showcase this “swap”, we all know that TTD isn’t what it once was….stay tuned for the “Top Thril 2-ified” design!

Click under the “Read More” to learn about this guy’s backstory & overall personality!

Just as visitors of Cedar Point were experiencing a first-of-its-kind 300 ft. roller coaster, the park was already talking with Intamin to develop their next record-breaker. As the park that kickstarted the “coaster wars”, Cedar Point wanted to claim their victory. Meanwhile, Intamin had been developing a new technology for their launch coasters, debuting the hydraulic-powered “Xcelerator” at Knott’s Berry Farm two years later. Even as the park opened a hypercoaster-sized shuttle coaster, all eyes were on the center of the peninsula as a yellow-and-red structure grew and grew. By the end of 2002, it became clear that what was being built was unlike anything that had been seen before. On January 9th, the world was officially introduced to Top Thrill Dragster— the first-ever “strata-coaster”, reaching a height of 420 ft. But not only would this be the world’s tallest coaster, it would reach a record-shattering 120 mph in a matter of 3.8 seconds. Fittingly, the coaster would be themed to a Top Fuel Drag racecar. TTD opened on May 4th, 2003 and instantly became an icon not only for Cedar Point, but for roller coasters overall. However, it soon became apparent that TTD was not the most reliable ride— the hydraulic launch, while responsible for the ride’s popularity, was also responsible for most of its technical issues. Despite this, TTD’s status as a guest favorite meant that Cedar Point was dedicated to making it as reliable as possible.

Top Thrill Dragster is the epitome of the “natural-born-leader”, unafraid to take charge whilst knowing how to best approach each situation that presents itself in front of him. Though filled with an exuberance only matched by his’ coaster’s fast acceleration, TTD has fashioned his image to be a person of sophistication and high intelligence. TTD owns his status as Cedar Point’s leader 24/7, even during moments of downtime (which in all fairness, is a frequent experience for him). TTD is dedicated to making the lives of those close to him better-- he’ll drop everything if it means that a weight will be lifted off someone’s shoulders. TTD’s patience and temper can go a long way, but those who break it are in for a world of hurt. As the third-fastest coaster on earth, TTD’s “launch” power takes him to speeds that no human can match. Additionally, TTD has the power to summon a Top Fuel Drag racecar seemingly out of nowhere; pulling the flags off his gloves, the car reveals itself in a spectacular transformation. TTD is close with the other two “world’s first” coasters at Cedar Point, Magnum-XL200 and Millennium Force; he is also close to his twin sibling Kingda Ka and cousin Xcelerator. But with the coaster’s penchant for mechanical issues, TTD sufferers frequent migraines and other health issues. However, TTD always persists through his pain, no matter how great it is.

#techyart #techycharacters #techyockingdaka

[crossf15]

Dragons Dogma 2

Second time trying to write this since I accidentally deleted a paragraph, and attempting to ctrl Z completely broke my post, lmao. Here's a wishlist of things I'd want in Dragons Dogma 2 when it comes out in three to six years.

Class differentiation - The class system is one of the most appealing parts about Dragon's Dogma, the ability to pick up and change classes on the dime makes the game very flexible to how you want to play. My only issue is that some classes kind of come across as unfinished, or too similar to one another. Here's what I'd change about the existing classes, assuming we're getting mostly the same classes in the sequel

Red Classes:

The red classes are admittedly my least favorite, but I don't hate playing them or anything. I don't hate playing any class in this game, which is a testament to Capcom's skill at making punchy, satisfying combat in pretty much every game they make. I just think they need a little flavor blast is all.

Fighter - I think it would be really cool if they leaned into the defensive qualities of fighter even more, perhaps making them a kind of fencer with thin swords and bucklers, and having even more of a focus on counterplay. Maybe each time you successfully parried an attack you received a stacking damage buff that kept going up until you finally attacked, like Royal Guard style in Devil May Cry.

Warrior - While I don't think it's a bad class, it definitely got the short end of the stick. It doesn't have the damage or versatility of Strider, the defensive superiority of Fighter, or utility of Mage, and it's the only class to only have three ability slots, and no real mobility options. Overall it feels really unfocused. I get the impression that it's meant to be a tanky agro-drawing knockdown specialist, but it's kit is too limited to really pull it off as effectively as other classes perform their own specialties.

Personally, one huge thing I'd change about Warrior, would be to give it a big distance clearing move like a big horizontal long jump, or maybe an vertical super jump. It would really put the class' physical strength on display, and let them play much more aggressively like they're intended to. I'd also expand their list of core skills to make up for their lack of ability slots (And also so they can do something other than jumping light attack)

TL;DR, I think Warrior sacrifices too much for too little, and giving them some mobility, and expanding their options in combat would really make the class feel better to play.

Yellow Classes:

Definitely my favorite of the bunch, I've always been a huge fan of the ranger/hunter archetype in fantasy media. Bows and arrows, dirty cloaks crafted for function more than fashion, the wild hunter aesthetic, resourcefulness, the color green. I get the very strong impression that they're the devs' favorites too. The climbing mechanic, a core gimmick of the game, feels like it was made for the yellow classes specifically.

Strider - Definitely the most versatile of all the nine classes. They have the most mobility: dodge-rolls, climbing superiority, double jumps, cutting wind. They have excellent melee and ranged options, and they can even do some limited elemental damage to boot. They're extremely powerful in just about every scenario you can throw them in, in fact, I (And most of the player base) would argue they're a little too powerful. (They also have access to all the specialized arrow types, which are pretty broken in of themselves, especially if you have the coin)

It's fine to have a jack of all trades class, that's actually something I really really enjoy. I love having answers to almost every scenario, and I'm willing to trade off high damage to do so; I think being swiss army knife is fun. However, Strider doesn't trade off high damage, in fact, Strider does the most damage of any class in the game. Brain Splitter is *the* highest damage ability, absolutely no contest. It also has augments that make it even stronger! My solution is pretty straight forward, Strider should trade off damage output for their versatility, plain and simple.

Ranger - Ranger my beloved. I love long ranged specialists in almost every game. I only have a couple of notes. My first note is that I think they're too aesthetically and functionally similar to Strider. Fighter and Warrior are two wildly different classes with different looks and function despite both being red classes, and I think the yellow and blue classes should get the same treatment. The longbow and shortbow are just too similar.

To fix this I'd change Ranger's signature weapon to a heavy, two handed crossbow, or if you're feeling really spicy, maybe even a primitive rifle of some kind. (like a musket, or a hunting rifle) Strider can keep the bow. You could also make it function differently too, such as giving it high burst damage, but giving it a reload mechanic, making each shot feel that much more impactful.

My other critique is that the daggers, and the skills that Ranger gets with daggers feel like they run counter to the class' design. They don't really don't do anything for them other than act as a last resort when enemies get close, and butterfly kisses don't gel with Ranger's kit at all. Personally, I'd give Ranger some new dagger abilities that better fit with the class' design, such as a backstep to bring them further away from the enemy, or a knockback ability that pushes enemies away. That's all, I wuv you wanger <3

Blue Classes:

Also absolutely adore the blue classes, mage is another huge favorite of mine. It's funny because I normally don't like playing magic characters in games, but Dragon's Dogma's magic is different: It's punchy, it's impactful, it has spectacle. The game really makes you feel like your taming something much larger than you.

Mage - Mage is definitely my favorite of the two. Playing mage really makes you appreciate and understand your pawns and how they work. I never used the pawn commands nearly as much as I did when I picked up mage, it's like playing a funky little RTS. My only complaint is that I really wished they leaned harder into the class' support role. The only thing Mage really has going for it that Sorcerer doesn't is healing (Mage is the only class in the game that can use healing spells, and it's just one spell), and couple unique debuffs, and I think that's a huge shame. There's so much potential to make Mage the ultimate team player they're clearly meant to be.

The solution is extremely obvious too, just give the class more support spells. They could cast jump pad sigils that launch melee classes into the air, or buffing sigils that increase attack and movement speed. Or even better yet, there could be spells that inflict the oiled and drenched debuffs for other casters to combo off of. There's so much untapped potential there. Also, why does Sorcerer get Void Spell and Mage get Halidom, it seems kind of backwards that the more offensive caster gets the cure all spell, and the support caster doesn't...

Sorcerer - Makes you feel like you're casting war-crimes, feels great deleting huge monsters off the face of the earth with tornados of pure darkness. The risk reward of long cast times and huge damage also gives a much bigger thrill than you'd expect from just standing there and waiting for your spell to finish charging. Makes you really appreciate your pawns. No notes.

I have a similar critique for the blue classes that I do the yellow classes, where I think their signature weapons are just a little too similar. Since Mage comes across as a little more scholarly, I'd give them a spell book, and let Sorcerers keep the staves. They'd function exactly the same, but I think it would give them both a lot more of a distinct personality from each other. Additional Note: If you're gonna have enemies that are totally immune to magic, please for the love of god give spellcasters a physical attack. Metal golems are hell on earth if you're running a blue class solo.

Hybrid Classes:

The hybrid classes are the most mixed bag of the mixed bags. They vary wildly in quality and feel. They're intended to combine the specialties of the red, yellow, and blue classes for additional versatility. If you like playing strider, and you like playing mage, now you have a class that combines the playstyles of both, and I think that's awesome, there's only one that I actually have problem with.

Mystic Knight/Magic Archer - Honestly excellent, Mystic Knight does literally exactly what you'd expect it to, you do all the same things as fighter but now you can cast spells and your perfect blocks do magic damage. Magic Archer is the same thing, you do the same things as a strider, but now you do magic damage, and it's honestly the most flavorful and unique class in any fantasy open world game. No notes :)

(Besides the staves, which you have literally no reason to use on either class since you're doing all your spell casting with your other weapons, and giving them unique spells really wouldn't add anything of value, just scrap 'em)

Assassin - A completely different story from the other hybrid classes. It's meant to combine Fighter and Strider, and be a jack of all trades, but Strider already fills the niche of being a jack of all trades. The entire class just kind of comes across as Strider 2. It has moves and augments that are meant to encourage stealth and solo play. (Extremely versatile counter moves that let you avoid damage so you don't need a tank or healer, augments that buff you when you don't have pawns, cool edgy abilities like masterful kill and dire gouge), but it just isn't leaned into far enough.

Personally, instead of trying to be both a jack of all trades, and an edgy, skill expressive, solo duelist, it should go balls to the wall with the latter. I think Assassin would really benefit from having a unique weapon like the other two hybrid classes, one that replaces the daggers/sword, instead just giving you the choice between the shield/bow for when you want to be more defensive, or offensive. Perhaps a light curved sword (Like a katana, sabre, or a scimitar) or maybe twin swords, packed with all the cool edgy I-frame/teleports-behind-you moves that normally would be split between the sword and daggers.

THE MOON - Ever since I found out that the stretch of the game was originally going to take place on the moon, I've been obsessed. I always get a kick out of when I tell my buds who haven't played or are new to the game that the reason why there isn't a moon in the sky at night is because it's cut content; I personally think it's one of the funniest pieces of game trivia out of context.

My biggest hope is that either their original plan of having the moon be the final area finally gets implemented, or it's the big post game expansion dungeon ala Bitter Black Isle. Just imagine, you activate a mysterious rift stone, a cutscene plays showing a beam of light piercing the clouds in the night sky, and you're on the moon babey!

You could be fighting your way deeper down into a dungeon complex underneath the moon's surface to get closer to the truth, or better yet, the moon's surface could be an alternate overworld with it's own hub area, towns, NPCs, and quests. There'd be new super bosses and challenges, maybe even celestial and extra-terrestrial themed enemies. If they wanted to go the extra mile, lowered gravity could even allow you to pull off some crazy stunts involving jump attacks or ranged trick shots.

Conclusion - I am very easily amused, and honestly I think I'll be happy as long as the game's like, actually finished on release and it captures the general vibe of the original. These are just my hopes for the sequel. I didn't make any predictions for new classes, because honestly I expect whatever new playstyle they throw into the mix to be a banger regardless of what it is, and I'm already happy with the nine classes tbh, I just want some minor balance and flavor changes. Either way, I'm very excited for DD2, which makes me happy because I have a hard time being excited for new games now-a-days!

When you're the baddest bitch in Gran Soren, and Gregory steals your heart so now you have to kill him :/

#dragons dogma #dragons dogma 2 #cw suggestive #cw partial nudity

[ur-local-remy-kinnie]

from the artist ask!

1,3, 6 !

1. “what is your favorite color to work with?”

— red is rlly good i like red!!! both my first and my last (so far) art here are very red so… idk it’s just a v good colour to work with it looks good in all shades and hues and whatnot (unlike some other colours… lookin at you, yellow…) purple’s a close second though i love shading with purple!!!

2. “what song(s) do you listen to when you do art?”

— i am literally so insane over bags by clairo… you don’t even understand… i close my eyes and i see the album cover, i hear this playing in my mind at all time, instead of actual sentences forming my thoughts it’s just this song’s lyrics in various orders, i eat, sleep, breathe, LIVE this song. it is such an integral part of my identity. i have been listening to this song for hours on end. it feels weird when i don’t have it playing in the background now. every time i hear it i can feel the holy spirit of clairo herself enter my body and start controlling my very thoughts, guiding me to create beautiful art that can’t even compare to the things i make when not listening to the complete masterpiece that is bags by clairo. (feel free to make this a copypasta)

that being said, i’ve recently been pretty into softly by clairo so i’d probably say that lol /j

3. “tag your favorite artists/inspirations!”

— honestly all tbhk artists inspire me so it’d take too long to tag them all (and i don’t wanna bother too many of them anyways), but the biggest has gotta be @mari-lair !! *grips you by the shoulders and shakes you* aka makes me so completely normal… i’d write an entire paragraph’s worth of how insane i am over aka and your clock is ticking, however i’ve already done that… several times… and dedicated over 55 hours combined making not one but two drawings of him using literally every ounce of talent i have… and accurately predicted who killed him… and made an entire tag dedicated to documenting all the times i’m insane over him… and read the fic over 25 times… to put it shortly, i think i’ve made it pretty clear that it’s literally my favourite au of all time ever… it isn’t just that au too, her art is just so good in general yk!!! i cannot act like a normally functioning human being around her art, i physically need to write an entire essay’s worth of tags just rambling on and on about how good it is every single time she posts!!! my favourite part of her art’s gotta be the colours— or no, the poses— or no, the expressions— actually, i think i just absolutely adore every single part of her drawings… i am one of, if not THE biggest fan of this artist, i will reblog all of her art over and over again and nobody can stop me!! honestly, i think i would die (but in a good way) if she followed me back… in conclusion, i believe in mari-lair supremacy <3 ( said i wouldn’t write an entire paragraph about how much i love her au, but i just ended up writing an entire paragraph about i love her art in general… ah well, too late now i guess!!)

tl; dr:

the colour red 🤝🏽 bags by clairo 🤝🏽 mari-lair’s art

making me absolutely utterly completely insane

#i love writing paragraphs for everything!!! i need to be extra verbose at all times or else i will die /j

[neopuppy]

Dive Into You: Part 4.(M)

Preview: “What brings you into confession today?”

Pastor Lee’s voice sounds through the small wooden booth around you. Uncomfortably shifting in your seat when the reality of confessing your sins to the one who brought them into this world settles.

“Pastor… what does the bible say about pre-marital sex with two brothers?”

“At the same time?!” Pastor Lee spits out abruptly, gagging on his words.

“Separately Pastor!”

Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 4k

Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck, a little angsty

Warning: sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, corruption, cheating, religious innuendos

Smut Warning: dry humping, fingering, in public setting

Intro—>

Part 1–>

Part 2–>

Part 3–>

“Oh my gosh goodness, that woman is old enough to be his mother!” Your mother gasps, hand over her chest. Haechan strutting into mass with, quite frankly a woman old enough to be his mother. Scantily clad in a tight skimpy hardly there dress. Arm securely draped around her waist. Your jaw falls open following where he leads her into a pew. Both Mark and Jeno sharing looks, back and forth between you and Haechan. Mumbling whispers erupting throughout the crowd of church-goer’s gathered.

“Isn’t that woman just a bit too mature for Pastor Lee’s son?” A voice behind you whispers. Conversations sparking around faster. Pastor Lee awestruck at the podium, slack jawed similar to you and others questioning what Haechan is doing. Your mother scoffing eavesdropping in on everyone muffling their words.

“That is just disappointing. Such a promising young man, wasting his time with an old whore like that.” She lets out a sound in dismay. Never noticing how you hide your face behind the scripture for today's mass. If you muted everyone's speaking enough, sure enough, you’d be able to hear your heartbreaking this very moment. Blinking away hot tears threatening to pass over the rims of your eyes.

Your mother may have not noticed, but that didn’t mean the altar boys missed the way you sunk into your seat. Sadness taking over your features as Haechan relaxed in the pew across from you. Arm around this woman’s shoulders, large smirk displayed. Jeno and Mark gave you many warnings, too many. Your stubborn fault for not listening…always insisting to do things your way. Maybe this was how life worked? How could you have expected a guy like Haechan to want you for more than sex?

Your eyes lift to the ominous cross hung above the altar where you let Haechan commit sin with your body. This church becoming more like a place to drag your mind through hell than anything. Ah, but what was really the point in letting yourself get upset over this? He used you, like some brainless naive idiot you danced along to the pied pipers fiddle.

With a few rapid blinks you return to stare at the floor until this dragging mass ends. Catching Jeno’s gaze before you land on the dirty brown itchy carpet. His lips part open, surprised when your eyes lock on each other. The question passing through his mind all too obvious in his stare. A silent ‘are you ok?’ that you didn’t even deserve from him.. Forcing a smile, your eyes end on the floor, defeated. What if Jeno was the angel on your shoulder that you turned a muted ear to? Turning the volume up for the devil on your other side. Consequences, that’s what the bible was all about wasn’t it? Learning your lesson and living with the aftermath.

Eve bit into the apple of temptation, you were no different.

——————————————————————————

“Father Lee insisted we provide fruit along with baked goods. Health is wealth!” Your mother slaps an apple in your palm. Turning to greet approaching bodies with a shining bright small. Like a wire hanger was propped in her mouth.

“Watermelon! My favorite!” Mark’s brows wiggle, picking up a plate of vibrant fruit. “The fruit of salvation. You know fruit represents, pleasures.. overindulgence, temptation.”

Mark holds up a slice of bright red watermelon. Pale light in the bible room dimming it’s flavorful beauty. Admiring it as if it’s the best thing in the world. He takes a large bite, avoiding seeds. Juice spilling down his chin, speaking between chews- “Can’t always agree with the bible I guess.”

“That’s shocking coming from you..” you look at the apple in hand. Thumb rubbing over a bruise developed on the red yellow coating.

“Nothings perfect right? Only God is perfect. Look at that apple, bruised but still serves a purpose. Sort of like us, we have our flaws but we’re doing our best.” Mark shrugs, devouring the rest of his watermelon.

“You’re pretty logical when you’re not quoting Samael 6:66 all the time.” You smile, earning the jaw drop from Mark as expected.

“Now that is just blasphemous, you little harlot!” Mark scoffs. Damn finger waving about in front of your nose. “Jesus said..”

“Save the quote, I’m not seeing the gates of heaven anytime soon.” You quietly interrupt Mark. Setting down the apple with the other fruits. Some more pristine then others, none perfect. How could perfection be defined anyway..

“I’m pretty sure my invitation to the sky above got revoked years ago.” Perfection spoke up. Jeno standing by, catching the tail end of your conversation. Hands shoved into the pockets of his tight black jeans. Form hugging black t-shirt tucked in. Defined trimmed waist leading down to sculpted long legs. Physique of a God if you’d ever seen one.

“Gods for sure not the only perfect being..” you mumble under your breath. Mark and Jeno’s eyes both lifting to you curiously. Smiling, shrugging off a response. “Well I’m sure you redeemed yourself with all that bible camp stuff. God loves shit like that.”

“Does he now?” Jeno’s arms cross over his chest. Forehead wrinkling in surprise. Mark muttering into another bite of fruit how you needed to stop cursing all the time.

“He doesn’t communicate with me, but I’d imagi-…” Haechan’s loud laughter cuts your speech off. Entering the room with that woman old enough to be his mother. Pulling them closer to the table filled with coffee, pastries, fruits. Shifting side to side anxiously as they near, stomach bubbling in.. embarrassment? Was it because Mark and Jeno knew?..or could at least assume very well.

“Aw nono, you already changed out of your cute little altar boy get up? Wanted to introduce my girl to my cute innocent little brother. Now you just look like hot topic threw up on you or something.” Haechan pokes at Jeno. Smirk plastered across his face. Jeno’s ‘fuck off’ reply coming in like garbled words.

My girl?! My girl? All of a fucking sudden? Hag. Haechan wasn’t even sparing you a glance. If he was trying to make it clear there was nothing between the two of you- he didn’t need to try much harder. Accepting the situation the best to your abilities or not wasn’t going to stop the rush of tears attempting to streak down your face. A quick spin had you racing out of the church, Jeno’s neck snapping catching sight of your back exiting.

“You’re such a dick Haechan.” Shoving past his older brother, Jeno pushes past a few bodies. Running out of church behind you.

“I didn’t watch the porn because there was a watermelon in it…BUT there was a watermelon in it…” Mark’s eyes lift expecting to see you and Jeno. Too engrossed in his favorite snack. Haechan staring at him dumb founded.

“This is exactly why I don’t believe in God.” Haechan’s head shakes, teeth clicking. Nudging the woman at his side to agree with him. “He’s my distant cousin. Emphasis on distant.”

——————————————————————————-

“Hey! Wait up!” Jeno catches up to you easily. Long legs sprinting out faster than you were moving. Hand wrapping around your arm, revealing your wet tear stained face with a turn. His face instantly falling, chest moving up and down returning to a regular breathing pace.

“It’s ok..” hands lift covering your face. You should be accustomed to this sensation of embarrassment by now. Hunching in, sobbing harder the more it settles in. Humiliating deeper because it wasn’t some secret you could live with. Jeno knew exactly how easily you walked into his brothers trap.

His hands shook, staying still in the air near your head. Internally resisting the immediate urge to comfort you. Arms dropping, hands flopping down by his sides. Lips pursing annoyed he couldn’t bring himself to even touch you. The fact was- you weren’t interested in him. You were another broken girl, crying at his feet over Haechan. Ignoring the stinging pain in his chest, from watching you break down. From knowing why you were in such pain. Who knew either way, Jeno wasn’t going to admit it.

“I can.. take you home..”

His delicate rasp reaches your ears past muffled cries. Pouting, rubbing your palms across wet heated cheeks. Reminding yourself in the back of your mind how you probably looked like shit. The last way you’d prefer for Jeno to see you, not that it mattered.

“Don’t wanna go home..” you sigh into your hands, shoulders shaking trying to control yourself. “Dad’s home..”

Jeno looks around, eyes falling on his bike under a large tree. Shaded from the bright daytime sun. Mouth lifting to one side, he could take you to the diner? The book shop was closed on Sundays to prioritize mass.. or maybe..

“I got a place..” Jeno pulls your wrist. Sad face reveal causing another type of tight clench in his chest. “Come with me.”

Gently leading you toward his bike, unclasping the helmets attached along the back. The memory of riding attached to his back still drawing impure thoughts to your mind. No idea who you even were anymore. Riding around on the back of an attractive boys motorcycle. Losing your virginity in church of all places.

Arms circling around his flat stomach. Jeno smelled nice, clean and fresh. Nothing too strong, your nose tempted to dive in with a deep inhale. Opting to rest your chin on his broad upper back where it dipped down the middle. Not bothering to question where he was going to take you, grateful he even cared.

He cared.

“What is this place?” You cautiously stepped forward. Looking down the ledge of the cliff Jeno had brought you to. Setting the helmets back on the bar attached at the end of his bike.

“I guess I come here to get away.” He shrugs, moving to stand by your side. “Small town, not many places to go. It’s hard when you’ve lived here all your life, everyone thinks they know you..”

“Yea..” guilt gnaws away at your gut. You were no different from everyone else. Like your mother looking at Jeno with preconceived notions, judgement. “It’s hard when you’re the town pastor’s son, I can only imagine..”

“Pft.. cause he’s so innocent. Somehow brain washed everyone into forgetting he cheated, knocked up my mom while still married to Haechan’s..”

“Oh…” scuffing your boots nervously against dirt. Sparing glances Jeno’s way. Chiseled jaw having you ready to swoon like some sad teenager passing her crush in the hallway. Mind so far away distracted, screaming at yourself that Jeno’s trying to have a deep conversation with you. “I didn’t uh…know that about your dad.”

“He just lucked out my mom didn’t tell anyone about the church intern fresh out of high school that she filed divorce papers over..” Jeno says, removing his jacket. Holding it open for you with a questioning look. Your eyes widen, immediately caving in a moment of weakness. Allowing him to drape the material around your shoulders. Fresh scent engulfing your sense of smell.

“You’re really.. nice Jeno. Considering everything, I have to admit I expected you to be more like Haechan..” you express, pulling the jacket around yourself tighter.

“We aren’t that different, growing up together will do that. Someone has to be the scapegoat, unfortunately it’s always me. Typical younger sibling syndrome right?” Jeno rubs his exposed arm, muscle tank revealing bits of tattoo. You nod to his words, unable to picture Jeno and Haechan getting along like two loving brothers.

“Your tattoo… your dad doesn’t know about it right?” You inquire, returning to topic back to Jeno. Ready to forget his brothers existence, at least for the time being.

“Oh yea..he’d probably ship me off to Jerusalem, peace core or some shit.” Jeno laughs, pushing the loose cut off sleeve up. Further exposing the evil creature blaring into your vision.

“Why a demon?”

“Why not right? I lost my faith in religion when my dad kept coming up with new excuses for why his sins were forgiven. God isn’t real anyway.” Jeno finishes. Eyes narrowing, expecting a reaction from you.

“I think you’re right actually..” you nod, softly smiling. Awestruck eyes staring into yours, satisfied. “..I should probably get home. Didn’t even tell my mom I was leaving. She’s gonna be so pissed..”

“Ah yea..can’t have that. She’s pretty intense huh?” Jeno scratches his throat anxiously. The voice in the back of his mind yelling at him to do something now. “..I’ll take you home.”

You take languid drawn out steps together. Tension surging between your bodies like electric shocks. Jeno reaching for his helmet. Fingers hesitating to open the clasp.

“Can I ask you something?” he looks away, teeth digging at his bottom lip. Was that nerves?

“Of course” you promptly respond, bouncing on your toes.

“If Haechan..hadn’t.. I don’t know, gotten to you first..” Jeno cringes. Focusing his eyes on the ground. Ending his curiosity there, struggling with his hope that you’d ever like him.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow, moving in, closing the space between your bodies. Jeno’s eyes meet yours, giving away the intent behind his question. “..you..why are you asking? You don’t..”

“It’s nothing, forget it.” Jeno’s head shakes, realization hitting you. Guys like Jeno never gave you the time of day..

“Would you have?” Boldly your hand lands on his, pulling fingers away from the helmet. Still wearing his jacket, could you be more oblivious?

“I wanted to..” those words are all it takes. Pushing up on your toes, lips smashing on his. Fever like heat raising your confidence to go for it. Jeno’s been good to you- the cold demeanor a cover up for how painfully shy you make him.

Hands find your hips, pressing you against the seat of his bike. Ass digging into the warm leather, jacket falling from your shoulders. Jeno kissing you back needy, full of desperation, loud breaths passing through his nose. Finger nails scraping the material of your dress, gathering the fabric up. Skin rubbing on the sun kissed bike under you. He presses in, tongue flicking out, asking for permission to enter. Fisting the cotton shirt on his chest in a wrinkled mess. Mouth parting so fast, too fast. Wet tongues eagerly meeting, rolling against the roof of your mouth.

Jeno’s groans are hot, raspy and deep. Affecting you quickly, sinking back on the bike when his hips roll between your thighs. Hard on tenting angrily in tight jeans. Grinding against your soaking core.

“God I..” Jeno mumbles on your lips, lapping spit across your mouth. His own pouting out cutely, blood tinted lips shining in outdoor light. “I really…whoa..fuck..”

“Jeno..” your arms lift, wrapping around his neck. Bringing your bodies together impossibly close. Pained moan trapped in his throat, thrusting in anguish. Craving to bend you over on his bike, slap your ass and fuck you until you can’t even remember his brothers name.

Jeno’s thumb shoves between your wet mouth, tongue swirling around. Groaning louder with another crushing thrust. Cock screaming for release, working up a faster speed. Demanding movements bouncing you on the bike. Eyes falling shut sucking at his thumb, picturing the length prodding at your walls sitting heavy in your mouth instead. Both of you growing needier with each dry hump against each other. Calves finding Jeno’s hips, lifting yourself up writhing against the hard fabric of his worn jeans.

“You feel so good..fuck..” Jeno captures your upper lip, sucking harshly. Hips growing furious, thigh muscles flexing tightly. Dragging sweet panted moans out of you, thumb opening your mouth. Saliva drooling past both of your lips messily, chins coated in each other.

“Please..” you whimper, pleading. Unsure what you could be begging for. Jeno nods reassuringly, gripping the back of your neck. Hand falling from your mouth, finding space between your legs. Drenched underwear shoved aside, sliding long fingers up and down. Catching your wetness, palm covered, landing loudly on your mound. Jeno finding your clit, pressing down hard. Surprised scream releasing from your chest. Tongue covering your exposed neck, nipping at dips.

“Can I?” Jeno’s fingers prod your opening up entrance. Head nodding rapidly, eyes wide. Gliding past your convulsing walls. Groaned curses repeating from his lips, finding way deep inside of you. Slender pretty hands working you to a heightened pleasure. Jeno continuously licking around your jaw, catching parted lips in bites. Hard enough to leave you a swelling pained mess, lips pursing out asking for more.

He lets your neck go, face dropping, forehead hitting his shoulder. Tattoo coming to life so close up, licking the expanse inked skin. Jeno grits his teeth, whimpering with squeezed eyes. Hand squeezing your hip, fingers jabbing in and out. Thumb circling your clit with expertise, nothing innocent in his touches.

He squirms on your thigh, member begging to fuck you open. Resisting to need for himself, fully focused on getting you off. Enjoying the way your eyes roll, tongue hung out letting your mind succumb to his touches.

Your hips jump up, wriggling into the thrusts of his fingers. Reaching far deep within, hitting every delicious spot. Lips landing together in a bruising sloppy kiss, muffling strained moans. Jeno’s thumb pressing down just right on your clit, precise fingers hitting where you need him in repeated motions. Trembling around him, walls gripping tightly. Jeno’s motions slowing down, letting the climax high wash over you. Softly tracing kisses atop your burning cheeks, staggering down to your neck. Soft nips turning into hard bites, leaving marks of himself behind.

“I..” Jeno’s forehead rolls over yours, skin dragging against his. Nose nudging gently at you, nerves still clouding his sense. Hard breaths landing on your face, eyes finding yours, mind returning back to you. “I want.. I like you.. I need…..I want..to take you out, like…date out...”

You nod a bit too excited, nose hitting his. Jeno’s stressed words making you clench up around his fingers yet again. Another pained groan blended into a sigh sounding around you. “I want that so bad Jeno.. I really want you.”

—————————————————————————-

“What brings you in to confession today?”

Pastor Lee’s voice sounds through the small wooden booth around you. Uncomfortably shifting in your seat when the reality of confessing your sins to the one who brought them into this world settles.

“Pastor… what does the bible say about pre-marital sex with two brothers?”

“At the same time?!” Pastor Lee spits out abruptly, gagging on his spit.

“Separately Pastor!” You shriek out. Fingers stopping your lips, wondering if Pastor would recognize your voice. It’s not as if you spent time speaking to each other much..

“Well..” Pastor Lee’s throat clears, adjusting the collar tightening around his neck. “That’s..good to hear. Are you planning to wed one of these men?”

“Wed?! Like marry?” Your forehead creases, thinking it over. It was way too early to even consider such a thing. “I’m not pregnant pastor!”

“That’s…that’s good news my child.” Pastor audibly swallows. Sweat gathering at his hairline. “You..wish to know what the bible has to say about this?

“Am I going to hell if I choose to…have intercourse with both of them? I’ve only slept with one..”

“Only?” The pastor sounds flabbergasted. Gulping down another loud breath of air. “You won’t go to..hell over this. You need to repent for your mistakes none the less. God is good, and forgiving.”

“So, I’m not going to hell right?” Your frazzled tone sounds around the booth. Growing frustrated the longer he skirts around your questions.

“Yes my child, of course God does, but!-…”

“….God forgives all right? Like…God will love and forgive me even if I do happen to…somehow…you know..fornicate with uhm..” you chew on your thumb nail, catching yourself ready to say- ‘your sons’. “..siblings?”

Pastor Lee becomes frantic on the other side of the confessional booth. Fingers quickly turning through thin pages of his bible. Murmuring sounds of ‘uhm’ between, buying extra time to find an explainable excuse for why you absolutely should not do such a thing.

“Now my child.. yes God loves you, of course. I cannot say he would approve of you doing this! What about the brothers bond you could end up destroying?? That would be greed and lust! Those are sins child, sins!” Pastor Lee exasperates. Patting a handkerchief along his sweating forehead. Small towns hardly ever brought him confessions this extreme.

“Pastor, did you not have sex out of wedlock once too?.. more than once! With two different women! Does God approve of that?” You sit up straight. Hand slapping over your mouth after speedily replying. Shit, God probably didn’t care much for this conversation, that’s for damn sure..

“Child of God! now..” the pastor continues, avoiding your accusations. “Are you going to go through with this regardless of what excerpt from the bible I give you?”

“Yes father…I believe so..I really like this guy..” you timidly say. The thought that the pastor could have you in mind making your stomach turn.

“Well then..” with a heavy dissatisfied sigh, Pastor Lee continues. “Twenty hail Marys and Fifty our fathers should do it.”

“Fifty?!” your mouth falls open, disbelief stricken by the idea of sitting here for the next three hours repeating prayers.

“Make that seventy child. Ten for each seven deadly sin.”

You pause for a moment, hand on the door knob ready to exit. Mouth gaped considering asking what the bible says about losing your virginity in church. A minute of contemplation later, you decide it’s best to add another fifty hail Mary’s.

“Thank you so much Pastor Lee!”

——————————————————————————

It felt a little scary, but fun, getting ready for your date with Jeno. Of course you still wanted to leave an impression, even with his confession.

Repeating it in your mind over and over again: A. Date. With. Jeno.

Holy fucking shit. What alternative universe had you stumbled into moving to live here. Maybe the best way to get over someone really was by getting under someone else…younger brother and all. God had to be real if this was how your love life was playing out.

Walking up to Jeno, he was a complete vision. Black messy hair pointing different directions, as if he just ruffled it and said ‘good enough’. Leather jacket all too tight over his defined rippling biceps, like a second skin. Silver chain necklaces shining under the sunset across the orange red sky behind him. Hoops adorning his ears making the sparkle in his eyes come to life. The large steel ball chain necklace catching your eye against his pale thick neck. Imagining him on top of you coated in a sheen of sweat. Cold chains dangling down on your skin..

“Isn’t this… your brothers car?!?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of sockets asking the question. Drawn out of the quick fantasy you’d almost drifted into. The cherry black trans am practically glowing behind Jeno.

“It is, isn’t it..” Jeno’s smile lifts into his eyes. Fingers waving around a set of keys mid-air. “Who do you think Haechan learned how to pick pocket from? Still no match to the king.”

Jeno unlocks the car, opening up the passenger door for you. Surprising you first with his tattoos.. now this. Maybe he wasn’t the innocent cute younger brother you’d perceived him as all this time.

The engine sounded alive, Jeno pulling out of your driveway. Better looking than any heart throb you’d see on some terrible basic cable teen drama. Arm reaching around the space between your bodies. Other stretched in front of him. Long fingers attached to pretty veins flexing around the spinning steering wheel. All he had to do was grab your thigh to set you bursting up in flames. Stealing subtle looks at him picturing the tattoo adorning his perfectly sculpted shoulder.

“Haechan doesn’t know you borrowed his car I’m guessing? Won’t he be mad?” You wonder out loud. Jeno’s smile spreading into his cheeks. Eyes squinting under the low sun coming through the windshield. Relaxed in the drivers seat making way down the empty road. Arm closest to you splaying out, fingers wrapping around your exposed leg. Shivers shooting up your heat from where his large palm covers the majority of your visible mid-thigh.

“That’s the plan.”

Final—>

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[beauvibaby]

Purple and Yellow – j.oleksiak

• Jamie Oleksiak goes through heartbreak and challenges along with his daughter but then he meets a woman who seems to catch both their hearts •

a/n: ok this is NOT proof read at all I’m sorry but I knew if I went back and did that I’d end up hating it and not wanting to post it but I know y’all wanted it so here you go!

Word Count: 6.1k

Jamie knew he was going to Seattle, and he’d be lying if he said the proposition didn’t excite him, but once his name was inked on that paper, reality came crashing in. He had to up and move his daughter, she was only three, maybe it wouldn’t be that hard. But who was he kidding, everything is hard with a three year old. And how would he explain that they wouldn’t be able to visit mommy every weekend, just like they did every weekend since. That’s all that plagued his mind as he drove home from the airport, Ivy was waiting for him, but he knew she’d succumb to her sleepiness before he could get there. His parents already texting him with a picture of her half asleep on the couch.

Then, the cars on the other side of the road slammed on their brakes, the sound of tires spinning out made everything come rushing back.

“Is this the father of Ivy Oleksiak?” Jamie didn’t even have a chance to speak before the words came across the phone, “yes, who’s speaking?” Jamie replied, heart rate picking up at the soft sigh the woman let out. “Your daughter and Miss Cora Hadley were brought into Medical City from a car accident scene.” All she said were those words before he was rushing to his feet, “are they ok?” He asked quickly, never getting a pair of shoes on so quickly in his life. “Sir, I’m not–“ “Bullshit! Is my baby and my fiancé ok?” He snapped, based on the way she whimpered, a rather young woman on the other end of the line. “Your daughter will be fine, just some scratches, the car seat did it’s job.” She spoke slowly, her breath hitching. “I think it’s best you get here as quickly as possible.” She spoke carefully, and in that moment Jamie’s heart fell to his feet like an anchor, he could feel his stomach twisting and his eyes burning. He knew what those words meant. Then he thought of Ivy and that snapped him out of his daze, he had to get there, now.

Jamie pulled into his driveway safely this night, parking beside his parents car, a sigh escaping his lips, forcing the terrible memories from two and a half years ago away. He gathered his bags, and lugged them inside, smiling at his family all asleep in the living room. That made him forget that oh so familiar ache in his chest just a little bit more. He put his bags in the corner, those could wait, but right now all he needed was to hold his baby girl. He scooped Ivy up, smiling as she fluttered her eyes open just enough to see him. “Daddy.” She murmured, “hi bug.” He inhaled the scent of her toddler shampoo, his mom always taking care of her hair the best, brushing the detangler through the unruly hair she got from her father. “Sleep with you.” Ivy whined when he started heading for her room, normally he didn’t give in, not wanting her to be dependent on him to sleep, but he needed her tonight too. “Just tonight princess.” He gave in, bringing her to his room with him, where she fell asleep instantly when he placed her on the plush bed.

Jamie laid awake, staring at the ceiling for a little while, thinking of how he would tell Ivy about having to move. “I hope you’re proud of me.” He whispered out, his tears staying pooled in his eyes as he forced himself to calm down. “Sleep daddy.” Ivy complained, nuzzling closer to him. “Hold me.”

“Jamie.” Cora whispered, hoping he was awake despite the late hour, he grunted in response, being a light sleeper ever since he found out Cora was pregnant. “Hold me.” She demanded with a light tone, her back aching and stomach bulging as Ivy kicked around in there. Jamie blindly opened his arms for her, letting her settle into his chest. “Always.” He murmured, already half asleep as she sighed in content.

“Come here baby girl.” Jamie murmured at Ivy, letting her rest her head upon his chest, Ivy was a very cuddly little girl, the second she was comfortable with you, she’d be sitting in your lap and telling you stories and anything to be touching you. It was one of Jamie’s favorite things, especially when he came home from a roadie and all she wanted was to be held by him.

***

“Daddy!” Ivy called, she managed to climb onto the bathroom counter to brush her teeth but now she was too scared to get down, “daddy!” She shrieked again, Jamie’s eyes fluttered open as he quickly took in his surroundings, “daddy, I stuck!” Ivy called, this time sounding annoyed by his lack of response. He threw the blanket off as he knew where she was stuck, this was a common occurrence. He appeared in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed over his chest, “and just what do you think you’re doing?” Jamie asked his daughter as she made grabby hands for him, she grinned brightly at him, “I brushed my teeth!” She answered in a duh tone, she grabbed his face once he scooped her up, kissing the tip of his nose, and he the same to her, “I’m very happy you brushed your teeth, Ivy, but you know you’re not supposed to get on the counter, that’s why we got you a stool, remember?” He explained, for easily the tenth time in the past month. “I know.” She huffed, dramatically pushing her hair back, making Jamie chuckle as he walked down the stairs, hearing his parents talking in the kitchen.

“Well, good morning sleepy heads.” Alison teased as Ivy gasped at the sight of pancakes on the counter, Jamie shook his head with a smile, placing her on the seat beside his dad, “I’ll make you a special plate.” Richard quipped to the little girl, which really just meant drawing a smiley face on it with whip cream. “Thanks mom.” Jamie gave his mom a kiss on the cheek before shuffling around to get his coffee, desperately needing the sleep kicked out of his system. “When are you going to tell her?” Alison asked, taking a small bite of her food, giving her son the side eye when he hesitated. “Today.” He gave in, knowing he absolutely had to start packing now, otherwise it would never be done in time. “So, Ivy, do you have any plans for today?” Alison shifted her attention to her granddaughter, figuring they could take her out to do something so he could get more done. “Gonna go see momma!” She cheered, some syrup smeared around her mouth.

Jamie froze, it was Saturday already, he checked his phone and felt humiliated that he had forgotten his promise to take Ivy to the cemetery. Evidently the panic was written across his face when both his parents stared at him. “Why don’t grandma and I bring you? We haven’t been there in a while.” Richard offered, rubbing Ivy’s back when she looked to Jamie for permission. “I think that would be nice, right baby?” Jamie finally found his voice, and Ivy nodded brightly, anytime she got with her grandparents was cherished. “Daddy coming to?” She asked, tilting her head as he sipped on his coffee, “I’ve got some work to do, alright, I’ll go next time.” He assured her, shooting his dad a thankful look as he quickly changed the subject before she could pester on any further.

“Ivy, I need to talk to you.” Jamie announced, he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to do it and be done. Alison nearly choked on her coffee and Richard looked at his empty plate like it was suddenly the most interesting thing. Ivy nodded, munching away on her pancakes, not understanding the severity of what was about to be said.

Jamie cleared his throat and pulled out the chair beside her, “you know how I had to go away to this new place for work, yeah?” He reminded her, “Seattle.” He said, and she nodded, “Seattle.” She repeated, not entirely perfect but good enough. “I got a job over there.” He spoke, waiting to see what she thought. “Hockey?” She asked, confusion lacing her tone. “Yes, still hockey.” Jamie chuckled softly, “it’s with a new team.” He paused, glancing away for a second, “we have to move there.” He concluded. Ivy nodded slowly, “new house?” She asked, she might be young, but she knew that moving meant not in this house. “Yeah, new house, new city, new people.” Jamie explained, panicking when she went wide eyed, “what about uncle Ro-Ro?” Ivy asked, referring to Miro, she was closest to the young defenseman as she always saw him beside her dad on the ice. The nickname had been dubbed upon him when she was learning to speak and liked to repeat things. “We can visit, baby.” Jamie spoke softly, heart breaking as she began to sniffle. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, he knew the realization was coming. “But Momma!” She sobbed.

And that completely shattered his heart.

“I know.” He picked her up, feeling her sob into his neck, “momma.” She whimpered, though she didn’t remember her, Jamie made sure to keep her an important part of her life. Ivy didn’t know that she loved going to a gravestone that much until this moment. “Hey, look at me, bug.” Jamie demanded gently, situating her to be in front of him. He sat her on the countertop and stood in front of her, “momma will always be with us, right? Isn’t that what I always say?” He explained to her. Ivy nodded slowly, she was so young but always acting older, trying to wrap her head around this. “Yeah.” She mumbled sheepishly, cheeks red and eyes puffy, she felt shy under the gaze of her grandparents. “It’s alright, daddy’s sad too.” He assured her, lowering his head to be eye level with her. She stared into his eyes, reminding him so much of Cora in that moment, and once again she kissed the tip of his nose. “No sad daddy.” She demanded, drumming her fingers on his cheek. He pecked her forehead, “alright baby.” He agreed, if she could do it, so could he, right?

***

Ivy slept the whole plane ride, which is what Jamie was hoping for as they would be meeting the moving truck at the new house, plenty of things to be done asap.

“Come on Ivy.” Jamie mumbled, carrying her off the plane as she groggily woke up, looking around slightly confused until she remembered what was going on today. “Daddy, Seattle?” She asked, lifting her head from his shoulder, he chuckled, lowering her so she wasn’t so high up on his chest. “Yeah, Seattle baby.” He assured her, her pigtails bouncing as she looked around rapidly. He smiled at her reaction to the airport alone.

“What do you think, Ivy?” Jamie asked, raising his eyebrows as the three year old spun to face him. “Love it!” She squealed, her room was twice as big in this place than her bedroom in Dallas, and Jamie told her she could pick whatever color (within reason) to have her walls painted. Of course she would love it here. Jamie looked around their new-but-empty-house one more time, sighing as he could picture Ivy growing older in this house.

Time to make it a home.

“Hi.” Ivy grinned up at one of the movers as he placed a stack of boxes in her room, Jamie just being outside the door heard her speaking, he raised an eyebrow waiting to hear the guy speak. “Hello.” The young guy spoke sweetly, chuckling at the little girl. “I’m three.” She spoke, “how old are you?” She asked, Jamie held in a snicker as he walked in. “Ivy, leave him alone, bug.” He laughed softly, the guy taking it as his excuse to go get more boxes. “Ugh.” She huffed, flopping down on her bed dramatically, Jamie rolled his eyes, looking around. “What color do you want?” He asked the opinionated little girl, he sat beside her, smiling as she stood next to him, being eye level with him. “Hmm, purple!” She gasped, looking around the currently beige room, Jamie nodded slowly, “light purple.” He countered, knowing she would want to choose the darkest shade. “Fine.” She giggled, “we can go tomorrow, alright? Today we need to focus on finding all your stuff.” He tickled her sides.

***

Ivy was tugging on Jamie’s hand, somehow spotting the paint section quicker than he could. “Slow down!” He laughed heartily, his daughter shooting him a glare as he purposely slowed his feet down. He hoisted Ivy up to see the purple swatches along the top row, she reached for a dark one, just like Jamie knew she would. He sighed, “Ivy, we agreed on light purple, what about this one?” He offered, grabbing a lavender type color, she grunted in disgust, shaking her head dramatically, her blonde curls hitting his face. “Love this one.” She pouted, holding it in front of his face.

Jamie held in a sigh as you walked past him, stopping to look at paint swatches as well. “What about this one?” Jamie compromised, it was darker than he wanted to go, but still light enough to not feel like a dungeon. Ivy’s lip began to quiver, quickly catching both Jamie and the woman’s attention. “Ivy.” Jamie sighed softly, you intervened, “you know, I wanted a dark purple room when I was your age too.” You spoke to Ivy, catching her attention as she lifted her head, Jamie shifting slightly, giving you a smile. “My dad wouldn’t let me do it.” You made a face, getting a giggle out of Ivy, “he was right though, but guess what we compromised?” You mused, holding your hand out for the paint swatches that Jamie had. He handed them over with ease, “we painted one wall, dark, the wall I had my bed on, and the rest we did light.” You explained, Jamie giving Ivy a bright smile when she looked at him like it was the greatest idea ever. “We can do that, Ivy.” He agreed, and you giggled, “glad I could be of help.” You added.

“Thank you,” Jamie paused, waiting for a name. “Y/N.” You told him, smiling at the pair, “and your name is?” You asked, already figuring the little girl's name was Ivy. “Jamie.” He introduced himself. “What are you painting?” Ivy asked boldly, not one to talk much around new people, Jamie set her down so she could look at other colors, amused by her sudden interest. “I’m painting my dining room.” You answered, squatting down to her level, “do you have any color suggestions?” You asked Ivy. Jamie gave you a look that said you really don’t have to entertain her but you just gave him a smile. “Yellow.” Ivy announced, looking at the wall and grabbing actually, a very nice swatch, it was just yellow enough. You tilted your head as you looked at it, imagining it in your space. “That’s a very pretty color, Ivy.” You told her, smiling brightly as she blushed, handing you the color sample. “Thank you, Y/N.” She spoke politely, even though the words didn’t come out perfectly, it was a great attempt. “You’re welcome.” You stood to your full height, shocking Jamie by walking over to the counter to order the paint, no hesitation that a random little girl picked it out.

“You don’t have to-“ Jamie started to say, but you shrugged, giving him a happy smile, “I just got a new place, a fresh start, yellow seems fitting.” You told him. Jamie gave you a lopsided smile, if only you knew he was doing the same. “Daddy, this ones.” Ivy gasped, giving him two swatches, he chuckled at her grammar, squatting down to her level, “you’re sure?” He asked, he knew after all it was just paint, and if it turned out so terrible, they could paint over it but he didn’t want to have to do this twice. “This one looks like momma's dress!” Ivy explained, Jamie looked at the dark purple in his hand, instantly remembering Cora in that dress, Ivy’s favorite picture of her that she kept in her room. Suddenly her color choice made sense, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop, your heart stopping at Jamie’s next words. “Yeah, I think momma would have loved this.”

Was she… dead? You tried to knock the thought from your head, they were so young, but you knew accidents happened. You quickly looked away as Jamie stood back up, “here you go ma’am.” The teenager behind the counter spoke, you took the gallon from him, shooting him a smile. “Have a good day.” You told him, offering Jamie and Ivy a wave. “Will I see you again?” Ivy asked, Jamie nearly had heart failure right there as you stopped and giggled. “Oh I don’t know sweetheart, Seattle is a really big city. But don’t you worry, if I ever see you out and about I’ll be sure to say hello.” You assured her, watching as she got all giddy and slightly hid behind her father again. “Bye.” You told him, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling any wider. “Bye, Y/N.” He mumbled, seeming a little dazed as he made his way up to the counter.

***

It had been nearly a week in the new house, the walls were done, almost everything was unpacked and they were starting to feel a sense of normalcy. Jamie loved the neighborhood they ended up in, a true mix of all different people, yes their house was rather large, but it was still homey. The community was sprawling, having a little bit of everything, stand alone homes, townhomes, even some condos, there were plenty of kids around which made him feel good about his choice as he followed Ivy down the road as she rode her bike. “Slow down, Ivy.” Jamie cautioned as she was getting a good bit ahead of him, she huffed dramatically and slowed down, waiting for him to catch up. She was looking around at the houses, confused as to why they were attached, even though Jamie had explained it to her plenty of times. Ivy gasped so loudly, that you could hear it from your front lawn where you were spray painting a piece of furniture. You glanced over and did a double take.

There was absolutely no way, you refused to believe you were actually seeing this, then you saw Jamie and you were convinced the universe either loved you for letting you see him again, or hated you, as you were in ratty old painting clothes.

“Ivy!” You grinned, laughing when the little girl flew off her bike, letting it fall sideways, making Jamie groan, “hi Y/N!” She squealed running up your lawn. You smiled brightly as she hugged your leg, “Ivy.” Jamie called, giving you an apologetic smile but you shrugged it off. “Did you paint your room?” You asked the little girl as she pulled away, a pink tint to her cheeks, she nodded, her blonde curls bouncing in her ponytail. “Yay, that’s great!” You cheered, Jamie walked up behind her, “hi, Y/N. How are you?” He asked, his daughter leaning back against his legs as you two spoke. “Good, been busy making this place my own.” You laughed, motioning to the small townhome behind you. It was your first solo place, and you absolutely adored it, even if it needed some work. “Yeah, you always forget how much work it is moving into a new place.” He agreed, chuckling softly. “Did you do yellow?” Ivy asked, rocking on her feet. “I did.” You assured her, “would you two like to go in and see it?” You asked, cringing internally as you waited to look up at Jamie. “Sure.” He answered, grabbing his daughter's hand, following you inside.

You led them to the dining room, giggling as Ivy gasped, “so pretty!” She cheered, the yellow paid off, it made the space feel much more happy. “All because of you.” You told her, she asked if she could look at the pictures you had sitting on the entry table and you gave her a quick nod, giving you and Jamie a chance to talk. “Same neighborhood? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were stalking me.” You teased him lightly, getting a hearty chuckle out of him. “It is quite the coincidence.” He agreed, he felt butterflies in his stomach for the first time since he had met Cora.

It absolutely terrified him.

***

It had been a few weeks since that day, and you’d seen Ivy outside playing with another woman, Jamie not to be seen. You came out to grab your mail as she went riding by, “hi, Y/N!” She called, continuing to pedal away. “Hi, Ivy.” You spoke, you went over and introduced yourself to the girl, Taylor, finding out she was her babysitter. “Jamie must go out pretty often.” You commented to her, she shook her head, “oh no, he never goes anywhere without Ivy aside from work.” Taylor told you, “he plays hockey, I'm surprised you didn’t know that.” Taylor added, smiling as Ivy came up to the two of you. “We should be going, it’s almost dinner time.” Taylor spoke, she couldn’t be older than 20. You gave them both a smile, “yes! You don’t want to miss that.” You chuckled, bidding them a goodbye before going inside and googling Jamie.

What you found shocked you.

Jamie Oleksiak taking personal time to mourn loss of fiancé.

Jamie Oleksiak, will he be able to balance a professional career and a baby?

Will he bounce back from this?

You clicked the first article, bracing yourself as it loaded.

The date was from almost three years ago, you scrolled down and began to read…

Jamie Oleksiak has announced the sudden passing of his fiancé, Cora Hadley. Together they shared a daughter Ivy, who was also involved in the incident, she is expected to make a complete recovery.

A close friend tells us it was a severe car accident.

Our condolences to the family.

You clicked away from the article as tears burned your eyes. That was terrible. You read some of the other articles and only grew mad at how the reporters belittled his pain, only talking of how poorly his game play had been since then. And though you’d never wish that kind of loss on anyone, you know they wouldn’t be writing like that if they had felt it.

***

You and Jamie exchanged numbers, citing that it was for “neighborhood emergencies” you giggled at the thought as he was currently asking you what he should get Cora for the upcoming Christmas.

She’s the pickiest three year old ever, everyone always tells me that.

Well, what does the pickiest three year old ever like to do?

She’s either riding her bike and getting absolutely filthy or she’s inside playing dress up and being a little princess

Princess car?

They make those?!?

Oh, Jamie, I really need to take you shopping 🤦‍♀️

Tell me when and I’ll be there…

You tell me hot shot, you’re the one that plays hockey for a living.

How did you find out?

Google is a powerful thing… just kidding, Taylor told me.

Of course she did

Saturday afternoon? My parents will be in town and they want to take Ivy out for the day, so it’s a perfect excuse.

You know where I live, see you then!

He started typing, but then the dots went away and you never received another message.

You brushed it off, feeling butterflies in your stomach for the first time in years as you thought of merely shopping with Jamie for Christmas.

****

“You like him!” Your friend gushed to you as you spoke on the phone while getting ready, “no!” You rushed, only proving her point more. “Y/N, really.” Your friend, Amanda, spoke. “There’s nothing wrong with that, he’s clearly attractive and he’s a dad! He’s not going to be a jerk that just messed around with girls! It’s great.” She rambled, you sighed, pulling your jeans on with a little jump, “his fiancé died, Amanda. He could very well not be over that yet, and I wouldn’t blame him.” You explained, she went silent, “well you left that part out, how was I supposed to know.” She mumbled sheepishly. “It was almost three years ago, their baby was only six months old.” You whispered, cursing when your doorbell rang down the stairs. “Shit, shit, I have to go Amanda!” You rushed, hanging up as soon as she said bye. You adjusted the sweater you had on as you rushed down the stairs, careful not to fall flat on your face. You grabbed your purse as you walked past the counter, yelping as you stumbled and landed on your butt. So close.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Jamie called, hearing the thud, “yes, yeah, just a second.” You called out, wincing as you stood up, that was definitely going to hurt later. You finally, finally reached the door and unlocked it, pulling it open and giving him a bright smile. “Did you fall?” He asked instantly, bursting into laughter when your face went blank. “We’re not going to talk about that Jamie.” You chastised, stepping onto your little porch to leave with him. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckled, giving you a once over as you locked the door. “Is Ivy excited to be with your parents today?” You asked him, Jamie laughed under his breath, “so excited, she didn’t even care that I was going out.” He told you as he opened the passenger side door of his truck for you. “Thanks.” You mumbled as you slid in, your heart pounding in your chest. He shut the door and made his way around the truck as you adjusted in the seat.

“So, where to?”

****

Jamie was shocked and grimacing at the price of the princess car that he and you both knew Ivy would love. “Is she the type to give up on new toys quickly?” You asked, tilting your head as you both stared at the display, he shook his head as gave in. He had been leaning against the shelves and as he walked away you noticed his phone had fallen out of his pocket, you picked it up so no one would steal it as you waited for him to come back with a cart, and hopefully someone to help him with the box because it was not something you’d be much help with. His phone began to ring in your hand, the contact flashing across the top said mom, you let it ring, you’d tell him as soon as he came back. As soon as it stopped it was ringing again, you panicked and swiped to answer it, worried that something had happened to Ivy. “Hello?” You spoke into the phone, hearing Ivy wailing in the background. Fuck.

“Who is this?” His mother rushed, “I’m Y/N, Jamie forgot his phone he’s walking around the store– is everything alright?” You asked, cutting straight to the point, “no, we’re going to the emergency room, Ivy fell at the park and I think she broke her arm.” His mother rushed, and thankfully you saw Jamie approaching, “Jamie!” You shouted, rushing over, he furrowed his eyebrows seeing you on his phone.

“It’s your mom.” You rushed, giving it to him and you could see the wheels turning in his head as he listened to her speak over Ivy crying. “Shit, alright I’ll meet you there.” He told her, shooting you an apologetic look. “Go.” You assured him, he shook his head grabbing your hand and pulling you along, he wasn’t going to leave you stranded in a department store. “Sorry, he’ll purchase it another day!” You called to the employee who had a blank look on his face. “Let me talk to Ivy.” Jamie demanded after his mom had said something else, “daddy, it hurts!” Ivy got out between cries as his mother held the phone to her ear. “I know, princess. I’ll be there soon alright? I promise.” He assured her, finally releasing your hand as he realized he’d been holding it this whole time.

He managed to get off the phone so he could drive to the hospital, repeatedly apologizing for you being stuck with him and that this happened. “I was going to take you to lunch and ugh I’m just sorry.” You raised an eyebrow at his ramblings as you guys got stuck at a red light less than a mile from the hospital. “Jamie, stop apologizing. She’s your daughter, she always comes first, that’s how it’s supposed to be.” You soothed him, he glanced over at you, nodding softly, “reschedule the lunch?” He asked, despite the panic in his head, he still wanted to make sure you saw that he was interested in you.

“Yeah, we can reschedule, let’s just go see your baby.” You leaned over the center console, kissing his cheek as the light changed, doing a little happy dance in your head at how he blushed deeply at your actions.

“Family only.” The nurse remarked as you were about to follow Jamie to the room Ivy was in. He gave her an incredulous look, “it’s fine, go.” You assured him, pulling away from him to stay in the waiting room. He hesitated but went along, disappearing behind the doors as you picked a seat in the corner, making sure you had a sight line to the doors he went through. Over an hour went by as you sat there, scrolling through your phone, not hearing from Jamie, which you assumed was because he was being bombarded with questions of the girl who answered his phone, while also dealing with Ivy who was not going to enjoy the process of getting a cast.

Your phone chimed with a text just as you had finally decided to get off of it,

Finishing up now, sorry if my parents are a lot

You chuckled at the message, making sure you had all your items, including the little stuffy you’d bought at the hospital gift shop during your time sitting here. You stood up as you saw them walking out, Ivy draped over Jamie’s chest, half asleep with her head on his shoulder. “Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you.” His mom spoke, offering her hand, you repeated the sentiment, as well as with his dad. “Ivy.” You whispered, placing a hand on her back, holding the small stuffed animal in your hand, “I got you a little gift for being such a big brave girl.” You mumbled, she shifted to look at you with her puffy eyes, and pout settled deep on her lips, “thanks.” She whispered, taking it and holding it close to her chest, she kept her eyes on you as you walked behind Jamie, keeping up a conversation with his parents. And he was right, they were kind of a lot, but you pushed through, smiling when Ivy finally fell asleep in the car.

You sat in the back with Ivy, Jamie insisting you didn’t have to but you wanted to. “She handled it pretty well.” Jamie commented as he glanced back to see her asleep with her hand in yours. “She’s a tough little thing.” You agreed, glancing over at him, he gave you a heartwarming smile. “Thanks for coming with me today, I know it didn’t go to plan, but it was nice, you know… before she broke her arm.” He trailed off, pulling into your driveway to drop you off. You carefully pulled your hand from Ivy’s, she didn’t budge as she was exhausted from today.

Jamie got out to say goodbye, surprising you with a quick kiss to the cheek and a promise of that lunch date.

***

“Did some research?” You asked teasingly as Jamie took you to your favorite restaurant, you gave him a sideways glance as he parked the truck, “I may have had some assistance.” He shrugged, making you realize that’s why Ivy was grilling you the other day, when you had offered to watch her since Taylor was unavailable. “You two are trouble.” You quipped, watching him slip out wordlessly before opening your door for you. “But I’m a gentleman.” He reminded you, “a very good one at that.” You agreed, steadying yourself with his shoulders when you hoped down. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He declared, had you not wanted to kiss him so badly you would have teased him for the nervousness in his voice, but you simply looped your arms around his neck and let him sweep you off your feet with a wonderful first kiss.

The first of many.

***

Two months, and many, many, sneaky dates and stolen kisses later…

You were over at Jamie’s house, having dinner with him and Ivy, you and Jamie had gone out here and there, but most of your time was spent together with Ivy, and that’s what told him that you were the girl he needed to hang on to. Jamie wanted to take tonight to explain to Ivy that you two were dating, but he was scared, petrified even, that she would become upset and confused. You kept telling him nothing had to be done yet if he wasn’t ready, but he was, he swore he was.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked Ivy, dinner was long gone and you were playing a game of twenty questions, she wasn’t entirely aware of that but she was having fun nonetheless. “Purple! Like my mommas.” She declared, you gave her a smile, glancing over at Jamie to see how he handled it. Many conversations had happened between you two about the loss of Cora, you never wanted to rush him, and as he only gave Ivy a proud smile, you could tell he was truly ready to start the next chapter of his life again. You liked to think Cora was proud of him, for choosing you to be in their life.

“What’s yours?” Ivy countered back, giving you an inquisitive look, the closer she got to age four, the more like Jamie she seemed, and it always made you chuckle. “Yellow.” You told her, watching as she grinned, Jamie winked at you as you turned sheepish under their gaze. “Because of me?” Ivy gasped. “Yes, because of you.” You giggled, welcoming her hug when she bounced over to you. “Ivy, do you know what it means when people are dating?” Jamie asked his daughter as she stayed seated on your lap, she rested her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands. “No but you said I’m not allowed to do that.” She spoke in a serious tone, sending you into a hysterical fit of laughter, not expecting her to be so blunt. Jamie tried not to but he joined you with a deep laugh, tipping his head back as Ivy grew impatient. “Ok, besides that.” Jamie cleared his throat, “when I say I’m dating someone that means that I really really like them and I want them to be part of our life.” He explained as best he could, you smiled from behind her at his words. Encouraging him to go on.

“Y/N and I are dating.” He spoke officially, you both held your breath as you waited for her reaction, she turned and looked at you, and then back to her dad. “You love her!” Ivy grinned, sending Jamie wide eyed and you into a wide smile as he blushed, “you love my daddy!” Ivy gasped turning to you, now he was the one grinning as you opened and closed your mouth trying to find the words to say. You gave her a nod, “well, it’s a bit more complicated than that when you’re our age, but yes.” You agreed with her, Jamie grabbed your hand from across the table, giving it a squeeze as Ivy climbed off your lap and started dancing around.

This had gone so much better than he had hoped.

When he was tucking her in that night while you were waiting for him on the couch, she said a few words that made him one hundred percent sure that everything was going the way it should, and that Cora even played a hand in this. “Can I have two favorite colors daddy?” Ivy asked, looking up at him sleepily as he pulled the blanket up her body, she was clinging to the stuffy you’d bought her. “Of course, bug.” He assured her, thinking that was that, but as he kissed her forehead she said, “purple and yellow are my favorites.” By the time he pulled his head back, her eyes were shut and her breathing was evening out. “Yeah, I think those are my favorites too.” He whispered.

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#Jamie Oleksiak fic #Jamie Oleksiak #Jamie Oleksiak imagine #Seattle kraken #nhl imagine

[eberles]

Sundress Szn

Jamie Oleksiak

a/n: this was not requested, but i hope you guys like it! feedback is always welcome🥰

warnings: smut!! (face riding, fingering, unprotected sex, public/dressing room sex) 18+

You woke up in Jamie's arms, his biceps hugged around your body, the bright sunlight peeking through the blinds. Grinning, you felt him kiss your temple as your eyes fluttered open as his large hands rubbed up and down your hips. His fingers teased your inner thighs, and his lips left wet kisses against your neck and jaw. He was always one to wake you as affectionately as he could while also being a tease. Rolling over to face him, you pressed your naked chest against his, while you tangled your fingers in his hair pulling him to meet your lips.

You moved your leg between his, one of his thighs aimed right under your pussy. You moaned into the kiss as your wet core throbbed against his thigh, moving your hips slowly to add more friction. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip before he pulled away, his lips forming into a smirk as he spoke, “Don’t we have shopping to do?”

You whimpered once Jamie removed his now wet thigh from between your legs and got out of bed in one smooth motion. You let your eyes fall to his body as he stood naked in front of you, moving around the room to get ready. “C’mon baby, you promised you’d help me pick out a mother’s day gift.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” laughing smugly, he came to your side of the bed, hovering his head just above yours.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jamie whispered, close enough to where you could feel his lips brushing against yours. It was very like him to get you riled up and then deny you any form of pleasure, the edging and teasing is what got him off. He just wanted to see you begging for him by the end of the day.

“Whatever.” you put your hand on his chest, pushing him away from you. He wants to be like that? Two can play at this game. You hid your smirk as you ventured to your closet, pulling out your lucky dress. It happened to be perfect for a day like today and you knew it would drive him wild.

Your boyfriend decided to wait for you in the living room, you took your time getting ready, leaving the dress for last. You cleared your throat, separating his attention from his phone to you.

Jamie gulped, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance when you entered the living room. The short yellow sundress flatters every curve on your body, sitting mid thigh and showing off the perfect amount of cleavage. Sighing, he threw his phone to the side and used his finger to gesture for you to come closer.

You stood in front of him, the ache in your core becoming more apparent as he stared up at you with dark eyes. Jamie made contact with the backs of your thighs, softly caressing the skin moving his hands up under your dress.

“Are you not wearing panties?” Jamie's big hands cupped your ass, squeezing the flesh, giving your right cheek a light slap.

“I must've forgotten.” you shrugged innocently, hoping the sweet smile on your face wasn’t giving away the wetness between your thighs.

“You know, everytime I see you in this dress I imagine what it would be like to have my head under it.”

Jamie wasn’t planning on giving into you this easily, he wanted to make you wait. But this damn sundress made the blood rush to his cock faster than any other outfit you’d worn for him.

“What?” you asked, your voice shaky as you assumed what he was insinuating. The smirk on Jamie's face was telling all as you watched him lay on his back across the couch. “Jamie, I-”

“Come sit on daddy’s face.” he patted his chest, urging you to come closer. Your knees buckled hearing the words leave his lips. Of course, you wanted to, who wouldn’t? But that didn’t change the nerves you had regarding the positioning. However, your body was moving faster than your mind and before you knew it, you were perched on Jamie's chest.

“A-are you sure?” you asked one final time, your insecurities wash over you making you unsure of your next move.

“I'm sure, baby. hold your dress up.” you did as he said, bunching the yellow dress around your waist. You looked at him, a confused expression covering your face. “I want to look at you when I make you cum.”

Your face heated up at his words, already wanting to shy away under his gaze. With one hand still attached to your thigh, he held your hand in his other, interlocking your fingers. Your heart warmed at his ability to be his sweet self while his face was mere centimeters from where you needed him most. “Now, relax.”

You yelped as his large hands pulled on your thighs, forcing your position over his face. His breath makes your clit twitch, desire already dripping from you. Jamie licked a long stripe along your pussy, his nose brushing against your clit making you shutter. That's all it took for you to relax yourself against his face, his warm mouth doing wonders against your slick center.

You couldn’t help but grind your hips down, slowly fucking his mouth. The added friction making your head spin, Jamie moaned in return, the vibration causing you to squeeze your thighs around his ears. He focused his mouth around your clit, nipping, sucking, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Jamie.” you cried out, whimpers and pants following along. You threw your head back, Jamie’s expert tongue fucking you made your skin tingle with need. The facial hair Jamie had only added to the sensation, his scruff leaving a delicious burn on your thighs. The fire in the pit of your stomach was erupting as he pinched your thigh reminding you to look at him. “Fuck. Jamie, i’m gonna-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, your eyes refocusing on his dark ones as your orgasm overtook you. Your hand squeezed his, your nails digging into the back of his hand. Your legs trembled around his head, pussy shuttering against his tongue. The repetition of moans and curse words leaving your mouth only sounded like music to Jamie's ears. It was the sweetest sound to him, matched with your parted face and glistening skin after a good orgasm. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Oh god.” you whimpered, watching Jamie lap up your juices with his tongue. After regaining your breathing, you forced yourself away from his face. Jamie licked his lips, his beard glistening with your arousal, causing you to hide your face in his hands.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” He had a smug look on his face and there was a slight pep to his voice. You rolled your eyes, slightly ashamed you pushed off doing that for so long, upset you let small insecurities get in the way of something so incredible. He cupped your cheeks, bringing you closer to him before pecking your lips. “My good girl. Was that enough to hold you over?”

“I think I’m ready to shop now.” you smirked, standing up, adjusting your dress so it sat along your curves.

**********

He took your hand as you walked into the mall together, his fingers interlacing with yours. You stopped in front of one of your favorite stores, seeing a red top on a mannequin in the window. “Can I look real quick?”

He sighed, but agreed anyway, always unable to resist that smile you gave him, even though he absolutely hated going clothes shopping with you. Jamie followed you around the store, mostly staring at your ass instead of the clothes you were picking out. “Do you like this?”

“Yea, it’s not bad.” he shrugged, watching as you got a few more shirts and dresses from that section and pulled him towards the changing room. Truthfully, Jamie would be happy if you just wore the exact dress you were wearing right now everyday for the rest of your life.

“Come in with me.” you pulled at his shirt as you backed into the changing room, a smirk taking over your face. You stood on your tiptoes, your lips brushing against Jamie’s ears. “I need you. Now.”

You looked around one last time, making sure there were no customers or employees watching you before you tugged him into the small dressing room. Jamie turned you around, pushing you against the door once it shut behind you. “Jamie, please.”

“Are you sure?” he sighed into your neck, pressing kisses to the area. You answered by pulling his face towards yours, bringing his lips against your own. Licking along your bottom lip, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, muffling out your moans. He was straining against his jeans, his length pressed against your pelvis.

You broke the kiss, fumbling with his belt buckle and unzipping his pants. He pulled his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard cock to spring free. Pushing at his chest, he sat on the bench behind him as you straddled his legs. The sundress you wore sitting high on your thighs, your hand attached to his length, thumb swiping across his tip.

“You gotta be quiet baby.” he whispered, slipping two fingers in your soaking wet pussy, pumping them a few times. He removed them, replacing your hand around his cock with his own, sliding your juices around his length. Resting your forehead against his, you raised your hips and slowly sank down onto his length. Feeling him hit every part of your pussy, your walls clenched around him. Your hands found his shoulders to keep your balance as you rode him, one of his hands squeezed your hips, attempting to help guide you.

You bit your lip, almost drawing blood as you held back your moans. His fingers played with your clit, making small circles around the sensitive bud. Every thrust into your walls was deep and long, taking him all the way every time. Your pussy tightened around him, making him gently thrust up to meet your hips. His pants were heavy and he was getting restless letting you know he was close, as were you.

“C’mon baby.” he whispered against your lips, trapping them with his own, muffling your moans once again. You came on command, clenching around him again and again as he spilled inside you. Jamie’s hand on your throat kept you attached to his lips as you both rode out your highs.

Standing up, you fixed your dress for the second time that day as he pulled his pants up. You poked your head out of the dressing room door, feeling Jamie's cum dripping down your thigh. Laughing, you looked back at Jamie, a knowing smile taking over his face. “We have to get out of here.”

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#jamie oleksiak #jamie oleksiak imagine #jamie oleksiak imagines #jamie oleksiak smut #jamie oleksiak x reader #nhl writing

[syndxlla]

Part Fourteen of the More to Love Series

Summary: The wedding is in a week, and you’re suddenly very aware of how little time you have left to figure out what to do. You decide to take matters into your own hands, and formulate a plan. Din invites you to a night of experience, and you admit a simple truth to him.

Word Count: 11.8k words, NO USE OF ‘y/n’

Warnings: SMUT (PiV, a little degradation, praise, creampie, cockwarming, dirty talk), use of alcohol, drunkness, mentions of scars, sexual harassment

Author’s note: HELLOOOO! this is a fun chapter, and i just wanna let y’all know that we are in the endgame now 😭. don’t worry, i still have so many plans for both the princess and din and just the whole world that MTL is set in. thank you for all the support on this story! it never ends and i will forever be thankful for your love!

Part thirteen

You were a fool for thinking the castle would start to settle down after the ball passed. Alternatively, the planning did not lessen, but instead shifted from masquerade prep to wedding prep. The decorations were taken out, and new samples were brought in. It was made very clear to you that this was really Korkie’s wedding and not your own, because every decision and plan that was made was done without your input.

It had been a few days since Din told you everything, and he truly told you everything. You had plenty of time to reflect on it, and process everything. You worked so hard to gain perspective on it, to try and give your future family the benefit of the doubt, and to understand the full situation. However, you ultimately sided with Din, your heart aching for the situation he was placed in. It had been apparent that he would not have told you any of that if he did not hold immense trust in his heart for you, and the word Ka’rta over grew into your thoughts for all these days. The both of you had agreed to tone things down, deciding it would be a fair middle ground. Less nightly endeavors would keep you two apart, and therefore less suspicious, but it especially made the reunions of passion more sweet.

Your mother was long gone, she left three days ago, and finally you felt that you had the palace to yourself again without Hugo and various other guests breathing down your neck. Your time as Corellian Princess was in it’s endgame now as your imminent marriage to Korkie was just on the horizon, and you still had no idea how to escape from it. Most of your days, you spent making up excuses for missing afternoon tea, and trying extra bites of potential wedding cake flavors in the kitchen. Regardless of what you did, however, Din was always there with you, three paces behind. You were also given the opportunity to dismiss him more often now. The eager infatuation with him has slowly become a steady understanding of feelings, and the two of you were able to fall into a groove without the anxiety of wondering how the other felt, and how long it would be until you reunited. Tradition and duty had lightened up as well, and there were less eyes on how Din was treating you, which gave you the liberty to give him back an ounce of his life.

This was one of the best things to ever happen to Din. You would retire to your room early every night, hoping no one would wonder if you were ill, and because you were away from the eye of Kryze, you could allow Din to leave the castle early. At seven, sometimes even six, he would go home to his son. It made everyone happy, and that is why it was important to happen. This was much preferred over a midnight dismissal. You also noticed a change in Din’s presence after this change was made. He was springier, chuckling more, even sitting down when the two of you were alone. He had finally relaxed around you, and you accredit to the pure fact that he was finally getting more rest.

Those were your favorite parts of the day: when you and Din would find a quiet corner in the library, or maybe an empty sitting room, and he would just tell you about the world. He had been everywhere, you were convinced. He went into detail of cities in Coruscant, explaining how they have extravagant silk markets and countless taverns with exotic drinks. He described the heat of the desert, and how he once had to search for a merchant’s missing camel in return for clean water, a story that led to one of the scars on his back and a very rational fear of the desert at night. His favorite place to tell you about, however, was his home. The Nevarro Frontier clearly had a special place in his heart, and he spoke fondly of it’s tall mountains and tight-knit communities.

“Nothing like the Mandalore you know.” He would sigh. A kingdom that may have been fantastic on the outside, but was riddled with war and political division and heartache on the inside. “Maybe I can take you there someday.”

It was those words that sparked your imagination, and the plan began to formulate.

The real dilemma you had been in all this time was trying to figure out how to live happily with a man you truly loved, but also protect your kingdom, home and family. It was a delicate situation, one with many sighs and frustrated nights. However, after Din explained his battle with Bo to you, it’s resolution was slowly becoming more clear. There had to be a way you could win in this story. You would not give hope on that truth.

When Din mentioned taking you to his home, you realized that there was very little keeping you from up and leaving Mandalore in the night. It would be a scandal, it would probably cause an all-out war, but it was worth a try, or at least a dream.

Now, when you had afternoon conversations with Din in the library, you were studying maps of the world. You familiarize yourself with the terrain of Mandalore, how long it might take to get to the Sundari Front, and drawing out escape routes on the backs. Din assumed you had thrown yourself into cartography so you could grasp his stories and adventures fully, which wasn’t altogether false, but it went deeper than that. You tried to keep it under control, but you were slowly becoming more and more consumed by your studies: a recurring issue in your life.

Din hadn’t realized you were becoming obsessed with the geography of the world until about a week after the ball, when you fell asleep by candlelight at a table in the library, your face smushed into the parchment of a map depicting some old blueprints that he had paid no attention to, and your hair falling over your eyes. It was almost dawn, and he had come back from his time with his son already, distressed to see no one had the courtesy to wake you up and take you to your room. He didn’t really expect much else from Mandalore, however.

Din blows out the candle, and gently picks you up, being extra careful not to wake you, and carries you bridal-style out of the library and to your suite. It was these moments that Din looked forward to the most. When he did not have to put on a face, when he did not have a million rules to follow. When your sleepy head rests into his chest, and he can look upon your face with his own eyes, no helmet to obstruct it.

As Din looked upon your resting face, there was much he realized. He first noticed that scar on your body that he hadn’t seen before, and swiped his thumb over it. He also studied the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, how you were perfectly still, and yet completely full of life and beauty and pure goodness as you slept. Din deeply admired how much you cared, how much you cared about everything. The wellbeing of the staff, the customs of Mandalore, him. You threw yourself into your passions, and you had a deep love for the hobbies and aspects of your life that no one else he knew possessed. You were a dedicated person, and he found both attraction and respect ino that.

Din also realized a fundamental truth at the very moment the sky began to lighten up, your cracked balcony doors letting the curtains blow into the suite dreamily. Din felt at peace. It had been so long since he felt peaceful. Too long. He felt the same type of peace here with you that he would normally feel sleeping under the stars with his son nestled to his side. Or the same feeling of peace that he felt when he held his son for the first time. It was a rare feeling, and it was pure. It was so rare that it was only saved for the people most important to him in his life.

You woke up a few hours later, changed out of the pale yellow gown you fell asleep in. Din had not only put you in your nightgown, but had taken the time to pull your hair so it was out of your face. He was more thoughtful than you could have ever imagined. The Knight sits with his back against your door, helmet tilted up at the ceiling, and you wonder if he slept, and why he was not in bed with you. You had invited him several times, and wished he would fulfill the request.

As soon as you sit up in bed, his head lifts, and he stands at attention.

You yawn before speaking, “Were you resting?” You ask, stretching your arms over your head. He shakes his head in response. “What were you doing?” You ask, your arms coming down to rest on your mattress.

“Listening?”

“For?”

He shrugs, “The birds at first, but then it was footsteps. I didn’t want to get caught waiting for you to wake up.” He sighs.

“Well… I wish you would have listened in bed with me.” You glance over at the empty spot next to you. He doesn’t respond, and you are reminded that in many ways, he is still the silent knight you first met from three weeks ago. Din walks over to you, and you smile as he does.

“Did I wake you last night?” He asks, and you were honestly confused about what he was asking. He sensed the confusion, he was always so good at reading you, “When I carried you from the library here?”

“What?” And then you remembered, your eyes blowing wide. “Shit!” You jump out of bed. “What time is it?”

“Uh…”

“Is the rest of the staff awake?” You let your hair down, and slide on the pink satin slippers on the floor of your bed.

“What?”

“Did you bring the map I was studying?” You look up at his emotionless helmet.

“…No?” To be truthful, he didn’t even take the time to glance at the map you studied, he was far too distracted by you.

“Fuck.” You muttered. Din liked it when you swore.

You thought of nothing, and hurried to the door of your suite, swinging it open and marching down the corridor. Din follows you in confusion, trying to catch up to you and bring you back to your room. You’re weary, and just woke up, so you pay no attention to Soniee who passes you in the hallway with your tea, looking at you in confusion, or the maids who were trying to sweep the floor that you scurried over. Din tried to halt you, but was never one to speak unless spoken to, especially not in public and in the presence of others, and felt unable to stop you and ask what was going on. Everyone turned heads to see the future consort in a panic, and were left with questions. Most of them shrugged and ignored it, a few began the rumors.

You practically ran down the stairs, feeling a little out of breath when you finally made it to the doors of the library. The fact that they were closed was still a good sign, and you swing the heavy door open, entering the library with haste. Your heart drops when you see the last person you wanted to this morning: Prince Korkie.

He turns to see the commotion, his eyes are shocked to not only see you out and about this early in the day, but also in your nightgown. He sputters on a ‘Good Morning’, and you don’t even hear it because you’re too panicked to see that he has the map you were reading last night in his hands. You swear in your mind, and your heart falls out of your feet. Din comes hurrying behind you.

“Princess? What is the meaning of this?” He asks, an eyebrow raised, trying to sound chipper as he greeted his fiance. You swallow thickly. Din bows for the prince, and then bends down to whisper in your ear so Korkie can’t hear it.

“Highness, please come back to your room.”

“What? Why?” You say a little too loudly, and before he can reply, the door is opening again with General Vizsla and a group of knights entering.

“Y-your gown.” Din whispers, and you look down to see that it is very sheer, far too sheer to be in the presence of your fiance… and half of the Mandalorian government. You want to shrink from the embarrassment, and notice that Korkie’s eyes are fixed on your chest. What a creep. You fold your arms over your breasts.

“What map do you have there, Prince Korkie?” You ask, trying not to make it seem too obvious that you were clearly in distress, but shaken up by your exposure and the perverted ness of the prince before you. Din wondered what in the world could be so important about that specific map. He stands behind you to cover your back side.

“What is this commotion?” Vizsla asks, interrupting your conversation.

“Nothing, General.” Korkie clears his throat. He turns to you, “Vizsla and I were just about to discuss the plans we have for… the southern border of Corellia.” Korkie awkwardly smiles. You raise an eyebrow.

“Plans?” You ask.

“Yes, you will hear in time.” Vizsla’s obnoxiously nasally voice busts in again. He was always one to unwelcomely invite himself.

You try not to roll your eyes, “And the map, Your Highness?” You repeat yourself, trying not to sound too demanding. You were still a princess, after all.

Korkie nervously chuckles, eyeing the multiple men in the room and shocked by your ambition. He takes a step forward, rolling the map up in his hands as he advances in you and Din’s direction. Din placed a discreet hand on the small of your back, hoping to reassure you. His touch was barely noticeable, but it was enough.

“Princess,” He says, sort of hushed. “You can call me Korkie in front of other people.” It was clear that he had an expectation to fill, and it would be bad on him if his fiance was still addressing him with a title a week before the wedding.

You scoff, “No, I don’t think I will.”

You hold your hand out for the map in defiance, but the prince doesn't hand it to you. He has a dark look in his eyes, one you have never seen before. Din tries to pull back on your bicep, trying to alleviate the situation, but you stay steadfast. “I will take that map now, Your highness.” You bite through the title, wanting it to cut. Korkie lifts his chin with an authoritative look, putting the rolled up map behind his back.

“Get this woman out of my meeting!” He calls out, and turns away. Your face drops, thinking you had the upper-hand, but realize that is taken away from you as two muscular guards pick you up, pulling you away from Din, and walking you out of the library. Korkie always does this, he’s madly in love with you until he’s not. It makes you remember that all of this is probably a ruse for power. Your heart and spirit drop, and you feel nothing but pure disrespect and rage. Din quickly follows. You try to writhe out of the guard’s grasp, not wanting to give up without a fight, but failing miserably. They were both very strong, probably because they had to compensate for how scrawny the Prince is.

“I can take it from here, gentlemen.” Din says, loudly, louder than you usually hear him speak. “I said I can take her!” Din yells when they don’t respond. Then, you hear the indefinite sound of a punch. These guards were still fully armored, but there was no withstanding the strength and brute force of your Knight when you were endangered. The guard Din had punched lets you go as a reaction, and you use it as an opportunity to take your now free hand and twist the wrist of the other guard off of you. All of the self-defense Din had previously taught you paid off in that moment as he yelled out in pain, not expecting your strength or skill. You were taught by the best, after all.

Now that you were free from the clutches of Korkie’s personal guards, you felt Din grab your hand and pull you. The two of you ran through the corridors, down another flight of stairs, and passed the throne room, making sure not to look back in the direction of the library. You ran parallel to the ballroom, and then finally down a final flight of stairs to the foyer of the castle. Din tugs you into a narrow hall, and down a spiral staircase. It was the way to the staff quarters, you remember from the day you went to the ocean. You were shocked and confused about what happened, and truthfully kind of exhausted. You were relieved when Din finally slowed down, and pulled you into Koska’s sister’s room. It was empty, thank the Stars.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them!” Din says and it startles you, but you do it. He pulls his helmet off with haste, tossing it to the floor with a clang. Din places both of his strong hands on either side of your face, pulling you towards him and then kisses you with so much force and hunger that you stumble back in surprise, your eyes cracking open for just a split second. You didn’t see much, because his face was so squished into yours. All you caught a glimpse of was his eyelashes for a millisecond, but that was enough. Din is pushing you against the wall, pinning you to it, and kissing you so hard that you have to pull away to get some air. “I don’t think I have ever been as attracted to you as I was when you stood up to that prick.” He chuckles, and you hum back. Din takes a deep breath before speaking up again, “What was on that map?” He asks, out of breath, too.

You sigh, sort of embarrassed, eyes still shut tightly, “It was the tunnel plans of the castle.”

“What, you mean the blueprints?”

“Yes.” Your eyes stay closed.

“The blueprints that are at least three-hundred years old?”

“Mhm.”

“How did you get your royal hands on those?” Din asks, baffled.

“It doesn’t matter! What does matter is that I made notes on the back of the map!” You blurt, feeling shame, “I wrote the estimated times it would take and which halls to take from my room!” You groan, so badly wanting to open your eyes. You remembered what you said to yourself all those weeks ago, however, reminding yourself that it should be his choice to show you his face and no one else’s. You sigh, “The Prince isn’t stupid! I’m sure he thinks I’m plotting something now!” You hope you don’t sound too panicked, but if you were being honest, you were. Din sighs, clearly frustrated, although you weren’t sure if he was sexually or emotionally… or a little bit of both. “I’m sorry.” You sigh, your hands coming up and searching for his shoulders. “I should not have been so careless.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You weren’t expecting him to agree with you, he usually doesn’t. He takes a calming breath, “…Are you plotting something?” He asks, his eyes moving between your closed eyelids in search of a non-verbal answer that he’ll never receive.

You don’t want to answer, but know you don’t have a choice. “Yes.” You feel guilty after saying it, although you aren’t sure why. Din exhales deeply this time. “But listen! We could run! I don’t have to stay here! We can fix this! We can get into Coruscant and they’ll never come looking for us, and then we can go to Nevarro, go to your home! We’ll take your son-“

“Rue.”

“What?”

“My son, his name is Rue.”

Rue. It was simple, to the point, just like Din’s. You liked it. “We’ll take Rue! Please, Din, we need to! It will be the only way we will ever be happy!” Your thumbs rub into the thick skin of his neck. You didn’t mean to vomit so much information on him at once, but he didn’t really give you an option.

He exhales deeply, and you know he’s processing everything you just told him. “We can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because!” He yells and it scares you. You drop your hands, your heart rate rising. A lump grows in your throat and you silently curse your emotions for betraying you. You swallow back a tear. He walks away from you and you hear the helmet pick up from off the floor. He puts it back on his head, and you know from practice and instinct when to open your eyes. When you do, he’s sitting on the chest at the end of the bed, his head dropped and hands pressed to the edge of the wood by his sides. You frown, and walk over to him. Din pushes his head into your abdomen, and you hold him there, just existing in not-so-comfortable silence. It’s tense, and not the type of tension that you usually like to experience with I’m.

He’s surprisingly the one to speak up, however. “We can’t… because Bo will hunt me and kill me and Rue and you… she’ll kill everything I love.” His voice cracks at the same time your heart does. Did he actually…

“Not to mention the war between our kingdoms it will start. Corellia can’t support itself in a war. We both know that.” Din sighs, maybe he was telling himself this just as much as he was telling you.

You sigh. He was right and you knew it, but it didn’t keep you from wanting to run away with him any less. “Din…” He looks up at you. “We have to get that map from Korkie.” You say, more stern but still comforting this time. His head tilts in question. You sigh, feeling guilty. “I wrote something else on it.” You look away from him, your eyes trailing. His hand reaches up to grab your chin, pulling your head to look right at him. Your eyebrows furrow. “Directions to your home.” The atmosphere in the room changes. You can feel it. “I know I shouldn’t have, I know it puts Rue in danger, but it gives us all the more reason to get that map back from Korkie as soon as possible.” His hand drops from your chin. You felt terrible.

“Okay, okay. We can check the library again and… if it’s not there we’ll go confront him. We’ll get it tonight.” He nods.

“Are you sure? What if he reads it?” You were surprised how lax he was, but something told you that he was controlling himself from his true emotions.

“As far as I’m concerned, the Prince has no reason to cause me or my family any harm.” He nods.

“Not yet.”

—

You swallow, your face inches away from the door of the Prince’s bedroom. Din was around the corner of the corridor, both of you knew this was something you would have to do on your own, without his support. You had never been here before, and after ample search in the library for the map all afternoon, there was no other option. It was late, but not inappropriately late. You wore that same dress you wore weeks ago, the soft blue one that was off the shoulder one that adorned your figure elegantly. It was one of the most sophisticated gowns in your closet. More mature than most of the flowy princess ballgowns. It was a diplomatic but still ethereal fashion choice, which you desperately needed after a humiliating encounter this morning. The scar on your shoulder from the endeavor in Keldabe had mostly healed, and only had a pale pink to it. You looked back at Din, who was peering around the corner, for some reassurance. He nodded, and you took a deep breath. Two knocks would be enough. The door swings open, and you are suddenly very aware that you would have to brave this encounter without the support of your trusted Knight. Korkie is who answers the door, and he looks mildly unamused to see you.

“Princess?” He tilts his head.

“Evening, I hope it is not too late?” You suggest, keeping your voice as monotone and unwelcoming as possible. You wanted him to know that you were here for a serious matter.. You noticed he was covering the door with his body, perhaps he was hiding something from you too.

“For my fiance? Never.” You hated being called that, but if it was what it took for him to invite you into the room,you could deal with it. Korkie’s room was large, it was far more spacious than yours. It had a billowing fireplace and sitting area, the ceilings twice the height of your suite’s, and a private library pushed into the northeast corner. You familiarize yourself with your surroundings, and the heir closes the door behind you. You silently scanned the room for the map, you would have to snatch it up without it being suspicious, and you could not explicitly ask for it again. “What do I owe this honor?” He says from behind, charming as usual, although his words did seem a bit slurred. You see that an opened book sat on the seat of a chair in the sitting area. He must have been reading before you interrupted him. You turn around, and lift your chin, trying to look and sound as put together and unsuspecting as possible.

You clear your throat, “I wanted to apologize for this morning.” You nod. It wasn’t true, but you had rehearsed with Din several times the best way to stall time as you looked for the map, and this was the best way of going about. “It was inappropriate behavior, especially in front of the General.” You disagreed with your own words, and felt bad lying, but it came so naturally when done to the Prince.

Korkie sighs, and crosses over the room, looking up at a portrait above the fireplace. Your eyes still searched for your map, but had no clue where it might be. This was your first time here, after all. “Worry not, Highness.” Korkie downs a bit of brandy that was sitting for him. You didn’t like him when he was drunk.

“You’re sure?” You figured that would have made conversation more natural, but he clearly was not in the mood for propriety. He pours another drink, and even pours one for you, offering it. You shake your head and mutter a ‘no thank you’, not really wanting to get drunk tonight. Din wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk. You admired that he respected you that much, but it also deprived you of the one thing worth all the pomp and circumstance. Korkie shrugs and drinks both, and you’re frankly appalled by this conduct.

“Indeed.” He hiccups. “Everyone loves a little show.” He chuckles, and you frown. Was that all your humiliation was to him? A show? “Now, Princess,” He takes a step towards you, and you feel so unprotected. Din would have stepped in by now, you knew that. You didn’t have the same sense of security you usually had when he wasn’t at your side. “Why did you really come here?” He asks, running his hand through his hair.

“Excuse me?” You nervously laugh. How did he figure any of this out? You take steps back that mirror his, trying to keep the same amount of distance between him and you but struggling to when you hit the post of his bed, your back flush against it. Your hands wrap around the wood working, and you look up at him nervously. You felt the same as you didn’t when you were cornered and harassed in the slum of Keldabe. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat, trying to solve something, anything. Where could that cursed map be?

“Don’t-“ He says through gritted teeth, he catches himself from lashing out, and collects his composure before speaking again. “Don’t assume I am blind.”

“I would never-“

“Liar!” He spits out and you flinch back. He laughs a few times, it’s that evil, frustrated laugh. It was the type of laugh that people do when they’re trying to calm themselves down, but in turn they simply seem more angry. You were genuinely scared, unsure of what to do in this situation. “What were the directions you wrote on the back of the map?” He asks, and you furrow your brows.

“I don’t know what you mean?” This was partially true. How did he not understand the very neat and clear directions on the back of the blueprints to the secret passages? And in all curiosity, why did he care?

Korkie grunts again. “You are foolish.” He was dangerously close to you, and you wanted to get out of that room as soon as possible. You wanted Din to come protect you, you needed him to. “Are you forgetting who you belong to?” His hand sets on your hip, and you flinch again.

“I belong to no one.” You defy.

“You belong to me.” He grits his jaw again. You closed your eyes out of instinct due to the sheer anger and tension in his tone. His breath smelled of alcohol, and you wished you had the authority to slap him. He laughs his chuckle of malice again, and then before you can blink, he leans in for a kiss. How could he? How could he take advantage of your vulnerable state like this? Your blood boiled, and just in time, you dodge his lips. You swoop under his arm, away from the bedpost and back to the security of a full room you can avoid him in. He looks at you, clearly appalled. You were dizzy, probably from adrenaline. You wished this was surprising, but it was the exact thing you expected The Prince to do. This is when you noticed the map was rolled up and on the floor beside the fireplace. The new perspective of the room is what made you see it. Had he intended to burn it?

“You know,” You say as you take a step towards the map, “You should have another drink.” You offer. “You’re clearly tense,” You stepped between each phrase, “And it would be better for everyone.” Somewhere deep down you wanted to believe that Korkie was only acting this way because he was drunk. But you knew it wasn’t true. You realized that everything inside of you was looking for a redeemable quality in him, a reason to stay perhaps. You wanted to believe he was worth staying for, but you knew that he wasn’t, not when everything you’ve ever wanted was just outside the door.

Before Korkie can take another step towards you, you’re bolting towards the map, snatching it up in your hands and then running towards the door. The adrenaline shoots through your veins, and it only grows when you hear him growl again and his heavy footsteps run after you. You have to physically hold yourself back from squealing in stress, your hand slapping over your mouth. You rip the door open, and try slamming it behind you, but Korkie’s arm is caught in the door, and you smash it. He cries out, and the commotion makes Din run down the hall towards you to check what was going on. Korkie was able to get a hand on the collar of your dress, and he tries to pull you back in, but your strength is enough to get away. You ran to Din, who looked concerned, you could tell by his stance alone. He was tense and his hands balled in fists at his side.

Korkie pulls open the door, holding his arm to his chest, and you look back, your heart racing. You are so relieved when you make it to Din, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers into his and pulling him down the hall in the same fashion he did early that day. Several guards who heard the heir’s yell were running in all directions, but none of them paid any attention to you, thank the stars.

You think you are crying, but you aren’t sure. You felt raw fear being alone with the Prince. You never wanted to be alone with him again, never.

You keep running nonsense in the castle, not really sure where you’re going but wanting to be anywhere other than there. Din is the one to stop you after the mindless escape, pulling you into a branching hallway and against an unsightly window. He grabs both of your arms, and pulls you flush against his chest. He holds you there for a long time, and you both get a chance to catch your breath. You cry into the beskar chestplate, and feel rather foolish for reacting as such. Din was silent, and just held you, his strong arms wrapped around you as tightly as they could be.

“What did he do to you?” He asks, and you sigh out pathetically. Din repeats his question, still calm and gentle, but more urgent.

“I-I was so scared.” You stutter. Din somehow squeezes you tighter after you say this. After you collect yourself a little more, you can speak again, “he was drink-“

“Did he… touch you?”

You weren’t sure why you felt like you were in trouble, but aggressively reminded yourself that Din would never be upset with you, at least not for something like this. “Yes… But not very much, he just touched my hip and leaned in to kiss me.”

“Did he?”

“No!” You say almost defensively, “I got away just in time.” You pull away and look up at him with teary eyes. His hand comes up, and he pulls the glove off. His bar hand caresses your flushed face, swiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry-“

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” You breathe out shakily. “For crying I guess? For letting the map get away? For letting him touch me-“ You try to look away but his fingers catch your chin again, pulling your gaze back onto his helmet.

“Stop that. It’s not your fault. He is disgusting for doing that.” Din nods, and you swallow a sob. “Do you understand?” He asks, and you slowly nod once. “And promise me, that you’ll never ever blame yourself for anything like that ever again, okay?” You nod again. “Promise me!” He wasn’t angry or forceful, just steadfast with his words. He meant what he was saying.

“I promise.” You mutter. After you reply you hear his exhale in his armor. He pulls you against his chest again, and you can feel it move with each breath. You wished you could hear his heartbeat again like you could when you wake up next to him. You’re able to finally relax, and his embrace was the most calming thing you had ever experienced.

“I was worried sick about you.” He says, far more soft spoken than his remarks before. You didn’t verbally reply, but he was able to read how you felt. “I don’t like you being alone with him.”

“Me neither.” You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the final few tears fall out of your lashes. “All the more reason to leave.” He tenses after you say it, and his arms loosen a bit around your shoulders.

“You really want to?” He asks, you nod against his chest. “You know the possible consequences? This could mean the destruction of Corellia.”

“I know. That’s why it’s so hard. I don’t know what to do. I know what I want, and that is to leave here with you, but I don’t want my own selfishness to risk the lives of thousands who I vowed to protect.” You pull your head away from his chest.

“You… really want to live a life with me?” He asks, almost oblivious to your prior remark. You nod nod, or even say yes, but you just look up at him in all seriousness, hoping it would be enough.

It was.

“You don’t even know what I look like.” His arms drop. Did he think you a fool for that?

“We…” You debate your words, “We can change that.” You close your eyes, hoping that it would mean something to him, and maybe it did, but just as always, he didn’t show it. He just takes his cursed, gloveless hand and tilts your chin up to see him.

“In time we will, but only when it is right.” He nods.

It wasn’t the answer you wanted, but it was enough. It was more than anything he had ever given you before.

“Come on,” Din says gently, “There’s something I want to show you.” He beckons with his head down the hall, and you follow, interlocking your fingers with his again, the map in your other hand. You weren’t really sure how he was able to be so calm and reassuring, especially without showing an ounce of emotion through all of it, but it was a Godsend. You weren’t sure if Din loved you, at least not in the same way you loved him, but you were sure that he cared about you, and he wanted you to be safe and happy. And that was all you needed, for now.

“Had he read the map?” Din asks as you walk down a flight of stairs, descending the various levels of the palace and undoubtedly heading for the staff quarters again.

“I believe so.” You sigh, “Although he seemed confused about it. I think he was a little too drunk to fully comprehend, or he was giving me the benefit of the doubt.” You shrug.

“Well, at least we have it now, right?” Din asks, his head slightly turning back to look at you as he says it, and you give a nervous but relieved smile in response. The two of you loop through halls, and you’re very aware of how much the castle is winding down. Staff have retired for the night, doors were closed, even the usual laughter coming from parlors or the ballroom was silenced. Was it really that late? You didn’t really have much of a perception of time anymore after everything that had just happened.

The one part of the castle that was full of life, however, was the staff quarters. As you got closer, you could hear the usual laughter, and warm, welcoming light poured from the low corridor. Music played, it was loud, and your eyes searched for the spectacle that was just awaiting you.

“You said you wanted to get to know the staff better…”

“I did?” You ask.

“A few nights ago, you were really tired, you might not remember.” He shrugged. You didn’t really care whether or not you really said those things, what stuck out to you, however was that Din remembered that. He was observant enough to remember specific phrases you said, and not any phrases, the ones that were sleepy and probably full of nonsense. You would lie if you said you didn’t gush over that a little.

Din takes you into the staff common room, and it’s all clear. The warm smells, the enticing light, the infectious laughter, it all came from the whole castle staff crammed into this one room. There was food, and everyone laughed and danced to the music that a handful of staff members played. Their instruments were humble, probably retired from the royal orchestra years ago, but you could tell there were fond memories and stories linked with every single one. It was hot, and there were a lot of people crammed into the room. The doors were wide open, and the tables were pushed back against the walls so that the floor could be opened to a large and intricate group dance. It was nothing like the pompous dances that the nobility did at the ball, however. This dance was filled with joy, and mistakes were not only welcomed, but celebrated. Expression was the center of the party, and all types of people were involved. Children who were up far past their bedtime joined in the festivities, dancing and laughing and chasing one another, elderly staff sat at the tables, clapping along to the folk music, and the servants who usually give you sour tea and hot bread had their shoes off, jumping on the stone floor of the common area. Some of the knights and guards had their helmets on like Din usually did, and others did not. You realized it really probably boiled down to personal preference, or duty.

You smiled at the spectacle, and it gave you a deep and undeniable sense of community and love. You quickly learned that the livelihood of the castle did not rest in the parties and rules that an uptight Queen set in place, but the very people who made the castle work smoothly.

The laughter and joy was contagious, and you couldn’t stop yourself from joining the fun. You jump into the dance, not sure of the steps, but picking up your ridiculous skirt and starting anyways. You hoped it wasn’t obvious that you had been crying a half hour before, but no one paid any attention if it was. The women in the circle linked their arms with yours, and you spun in a circle. The one to your right couldn’t have been older than fifteen, and she yelled over the noise how to do the footsteps. You couldn’t really hear her, but looked down at her feet and tried to mimic it. You had the cheesiest smile on your face, and the room spun as you danced. Din crosses over to a wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms, watching you.

After that dance finished, another song started, and the moves were rather different. However, a girl pulled you out of the circle, and tugged on your dress. “It’s too big!” She shouts over the music, “You’ll never make it through the next song!” You nod and then walk over to a table. You stand on top of the table after a few jumbled ‘excuse me’s’. You were sure everyone recognized you, but they didn’t treat you differently for one moment. It was… refreshing. You kicked your shoes off, and several people turned to look at you, some cheered, others laughed. You then bite your bottom lip and pull the strings of the corset you wore, loosening it enough to slip out of your crinoline and ruffled-slip, leaving you in nothing but your undergarment petticoat and the top layer of the gown you were wearing. There was laughter, and you didn’t hear or see Din chuckle. You swayed your hips, and after a playful “huzzah!” from the crowd, a few knights helped you off the table. You immediately return to the dance circle, and you’re able to move much easier. You’re thrown back into the stimulating dance. The woman was right, this was much more physical, jumping and kicking was done and it was far more exciting than any of the proper waltzes you had spent your life dedicating time to.

You step out after two more songs, trying to catch your breath and wiping the sweat off your brow. There was alcohol, just hooch, but a bearded man gave you a big mug and you happily chugged it down. Din was impressed with your ability to consume so much so quickly. The men all cheered and hollered as you downed the drink, also impressed with the skill. You didn’t know you could do it, either.

A game of cards is being played, and you’re roped into that, too. You bet some money (money you didn’t have) and helped a tired, old man who usually worked in the stables play, after a few tough rounds, and struggling to learn the rules as you played, you won the pot for the old man. Three other much younger boys who usually worked at the front gate looked in shock as you pulled the money towards you and the man. He laughed and thanked you for your help.

Some little girls examined your crinoline and corset, a few older women all pinched your cheeks, and a fat man gave you a huge helping of mashed potatoes and greens. You got to overeat shamelessly, and it felt so rewarding after weeks of eating like a bird in fear of being judged by your in-laws. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world to be treated normally. You caught a glimpse of Soniee, who braided a boy’s hair. You even noticed that Koska was there, the center of one of the dance circles, swaying her skirt to the beat with another girl, the two dancing together in a vibrant duet of culture and community. Your feet only began to hurt when you were pulled to dance again, and your cheeks ached from smiling so wide. It was the most alive and accepted you had ever felt in Mandalore.

At one point, you found yourself just a few feet away from Din in the dance. You hold your hands out for him, beckoning him to join. “Dance with me!” You shout out. Before you get an answer, however, you're pulled back into the center of the group. It isn’t for a few more cycles and bars of the song that you’re back out by him. “Please?” You try to be as enticing as possible. He shakes his head, his hand coming up to decline. You raise an eyebrow.

“I don’t dance!” He yells back. You roll your eyes and step out of the group momentarily. You grab both of his hands, your face with the cheesiest smile ever, and pull him onto the floor. He tries to fight back, but ultimately loses.

“Yes you do!” You reply, yelling as loud as possible so he might be able to hear you. “You proved it to me last week!” You say and in perfect time, your arms go up together with the beat of the song. He hadn’t done this dance before, but has watched it enough times to know what’s going on, although he looked rather awkward and foolish doing so. You grab his hand, your hips turning left to right in time, and you look down at your bodies, trying to show him as best as you can.

“I have no idea what’s going on!” Din yells at one point, the two of you now in the heart of the party.

“Me neither!” You laugh, “That’s what’s so wonderful about it!” Then came the part of the dance to clap your hands, the two of you clapping up by your face, and mirroring one another. “Now you’re getting the hang of it!” You nod. He rolls his eyes, and is thankful you can’t see it. It would be horrible for his reputation if anyone knew that he was having even a little fun, especially because it was with you. Din doesn’t usually come to these parties. They happen most Saturday nights, but he runs home to his son. Tonight, however, it was important to him that you got to experience it, especially after everything that happened earlier today.

You both start getting the hang of it, and Din mentally thanks his helmet for hiding the smile on his face. Your feet grapevine, and then you both jump. Everyone hoots and hollers, it’s part of the dance. Suddenly, the both of you are in the middle of the dance circle in the same way that Koska was with her partner a few songs ago, and you’re leading the spiral. You can’t wipe the darkish smile off your face and genuinely can’t believe you got him out here.

“Atta boy, Djarin!” Koska yells from a table, standing up and toasting a Ming of hooch. The music picked up in preparation for the big finish. Din and you spun around one another, your bodies coming flush until your palms press flat, your faces only inches apart. You always thought playing off of one another in a dance was important for the emotion during a waltz, but a fancy three-step had nothing on the emotion and passion put into a dance such as this. Somehow, you could still play off of him, and the performance was one of shared respect and assurance. Despite never having seen his face, you got the Knight, you understood him in a way no one ever did. The song ends, the two of you real close to one another, and out of breath. The entire room roared in joy as they cheered for the both of you, and you looked up at the visor of his helmet.

“I want to kiss you!” He yells, and although his request is very clear, no one can hear it over the volume of the room.

“Then kiss me!” You reply. You didn’t give a damn if every servant of the Mandalorian royal family saw it. He laughs, you feel it, and then he’s pulling his helmet up.

He just reveals his lips, but you look upon them with no shame, admiring the way his Cupid’s bow dipped, and the scruff on his jawline. You smiled wide, and he smiled back. You feel honored to share this moment with him. Everyone around you was so loud, and they were cheering for both you and Din. You couldn’t believe how many of them knew his name as they called it out in encouragement.

Din’s free hand wraps around your waist, and pulls it in tight to him forcefully, you blush at the gesture, and the crowd “ooh’s” flirtily at it. Din Djarin then kisses you. He pulls your body into his soft lips and you sigh into it and it;s too quiet for him to hear but as soon as your lips meet, the crowd of staff disappears. Their cheers blur together, and fade out. Your lips move together passionately, and you do so with no shame. He groans against you, and you can feel it more than you can hear it, and it’s all you ever wanted.

For weeks now you just wanted to share your love with him publicly, and now that you have, you’re aware of how personal your love with him really is.

The crowd fades back in, everyone laughing in support and amusement. Your lips softly party and you grin from ear to ear. Din does too, shameless for once. His teeth are nice and straight. Oh God, you loved his smile.

Oh Stars, you loved him.

“Din!” You yell out. “I love you!” It was time to say it, because it was true. You meant it and as you say it, giggle.

“What?”

“I love you!” It’s so loud that you’re even sure if he can’t hear it, you can barely hear it yourself. But, in classic Din Djarin fashion, he doesn’t answer. He was never good with words, and was much better at showing you what was on his mind. He kisses you again, just as passionately, but this time it’s a series of short, quick pecks on your lips that get progressively more sloppy. He smiles into each kiss and you feel those magic butterflies again.

The rest of the night is a dreamy blur, Din dances the whole time with you, the music eventually slows, you notice that there are less and less kids in the common room. It winds down, and your feet ache in the best way. An ache that would be associated with happy memories. It was long past midnight when you decided to stop dancing, and a lone fiddler is all who was left in the band, playing a ballad to end the night. There was still soft laughter, and a few stragglers who slowly danced to the music. Din was one of the few who were still playing cards, one of his fellow knights challenging him to a game. Din was always up for a challenge, and both he and the man he played against looked deep in thought. You realized you were finally able to read him through all that beskar, and he was far more reactive than you ever would have known if you weren’t looking for it. Your cheek sits in your palm, and your eyes are heavy, but you watch him fondly from across the room. Koska sits next to you, handing you a cup of water.

“You had fun.” She hums, taking a sip out of her own cup.

You nervously laugh in response, she wasn’t wrong. “I didn’t realize how connected you all were.” You say with a sigh before taking a sip of the water and being so relieved to finally get some hydration after all of the energy you exerted.

“Yeah…” Koska was in her typical undisturbed mood, relaxed and observant. “These are the people of Mandalore.” She sighs, “They are what we really represent. We aren’t all about war and decoration, there’s so much more to us that the world doesn’t see.” You were touched by that remark, because you had seen it too. “The truth that’s hard for all of us to believe is that the rest of the world only respects us to stay on our good side.” Her voice drops a little. She looks at you, her eyes heavy as always. You aren’t sure how to respond, because it was true. Koska takes another sip before changing the subject, “I’ve never seen him dance before.” She nods towards Din. “At least not like that.” She laughs into her cup.

You smile, “I didn’t think he had it in him.” You tease.

“He wouldn’t have if you weren’t there.” Koska shrugs. “He’s like a whole different person around you. It’s refreshing.”

“He told me about everything that happened.” You reply. “With him and Bo.”

“He did? I don’t think he’s really talked to anyone about it.”

“He just told me last week, after the ball.” You nod. “I had no idea… but it all makes sense in the end.” You finish off the last of your water as his card game finishes, the few people watching cheering as Din lays down his cards and wins. The other knight, whose face was also covered by a heavy, beskar helmet slammed his fist down on the table in defeat. Din took the money that was on the bet.

“He’s better because of you.” Koska says, smiling as he wins. “I’ve had to look out for him in a way for a long time, he’s one of my oldest friends.” She speaks of him fondly. “But I feel like he doesn’t need me as much anymore, now that you can keep an eye out for him.” Koska turns to look a t you, but you don’t notice it. “You love him?”

“I do.” You nod. “Well… I think I do.” You sigh, “I don’t really know what love is I suppose, but I believe how I feel about him is the closest thing to it.” You shrug. “And I’m totally fucked because of it.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Koska explains, “I’ve never been in love either.”

“Really?” You ask, mildly shocked in all honesty. Koska nods. “There’s no one special in your life?”

“Well, there’s one girl.” Koska begins, “But my feelings towards her are more of an… obligation, I suppose.”

“I used to worry that’s how Din felt about me.” You admit.

“Oh trust me,” She chuckles once, “It isn’t like that for him at all.” She hums and you sigh in response, you sit in comfortable silence for a moment after that before Koska speaks up again, “What are you gonna do?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” You admit, turning to look at her, “But now that the majority of the castle staff has seen us kiss, I need to think of something.”

“That was pretty stupid, by the way.” Koska rolls her eyes.

You chuckle, “I suppose it was…” Din starts walking back to you, “But I can’t seem to care. I’m sick of hiding from everyone.” Din makes it to the two of you, and you smile as you look up at him.

“It’s not much,” He holds out the money before pocketing it, “But Rue will be happy.” He laughs and holds a hand out for you to take. “How drunk is she?” He asks Koska.

“She’s fine-“

“I only had one drink!” You roll your eyes, knowing that your night with Din will end very quickly if you were drunk. You take his hand and he hoists you up with him.

“Hm… that’s what you said the other night.”

“She’s okay, maybe a little tipsy but nothing keeping her from holding a perfectly normal conversation.” Koska says to Din, knowing full well why he even asked, a smirk plasters on her face.

“Come on.” Din hums, and pulls you down one of the various halls that branch from the common room, but not the one that both of you were familiar with because of your aid from Koska.

Din leads you through the candle-lit halls, and into a small bedroom. It was cramped, and there was barely enough room for the both of you, but it was cozy. He lit an oil lamp, and it illuminated the room just enough. Din slowly pulls off his helmet, and it’s so dim that you can’t really see anything like normal, but you can make out faint features and the light in his eyes. It was enough. He started to take off his armor too, and you patiently waited with your back against the outerwall that the window was in. He sets the chestplate and pauldrons in a neat pile on the foot of the bed, and kicks his boots off. His arm comes up to rub his neck, and he stretches a few times. He pulls the chainmail up over his head, leaving him in the same peasant blouse and trousers that he wore at the beach all those days ago. You would never get used to how trim his waist was, and how broad his shoulders were. He turns around, and has a smile on his face. You wished you could see him in the light. Din runs his hands through his thick curls and then steps towards you. You close the gap and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for an innocent kiss.

“Thank you.” You mutter.

“What for?”

“For bringing me here tonight… for being with me.” You sigh, and look up at him lovingly. He sighs, and kisses you again. Din starts to deepen the kiss, and you moan into his lips. He was a good kisser, that was for sure.

[SMUT BEGINS HERE]

Din wastes no time, he picks you up by the thighs, lifting you on his waist so you’re kissing down into him, and before you know it, he’s kissing your jaw. Din had learned your body, he knew the sweet spot on your jaw, and always knew just how long he could suck on it before it became a hickey. He never crossed that line, he knew when to stop, but how badly you wanted him to mark you up so Korkie could see, you wanted everyone to see who you loved and why. His strong hands bunch up your skirt, and lift it up so your ass could be uncovered. His arms hold you, and he stumbles back until he falls on the bed in the room. You straddle the knight and get comfortable on his lap. You can feel his hard-on growing, and you’ll never get over the confidence boost that gives you. You start to tentatively rub your hips so that you grinned down into him. You get a sting of pleasure through your spine, and you’re already getting wet. Because you were down in the lower level of the palace, and was totally isolated from most people with thick, stone walls, you take advantage of the opportunity to make noise. You moan into Din’s mouth, and he holds his lips apart for you. His breath against your face was enough alone to drive you crazy, and your fingers twist around the strands of curly, brown hair that sit at the nape of his neck.

Din’s thick, calloused fingers find their way between your legs from the back, and he starts to gently run his fingertips through your slick folds. You gasp at the feeling, he was so gentle with every move. He starts to moan as well as your hips grind further into him in search for more friction and pleasure, and the sound of his voice unobstructed by the beskar is your favorite sound in the whole world. Din settles into his seat, and he pulls you forward onto him. This allows your hips to lift up just enough that he can insert a finger through your cunt. He starts pumping his wrist immediately, fingering you. You pulled your lips away from him, and sat up straight. You throw your head back with a moan, and then bring your hands to the tucked in portion of your shirt. You pull it up over your head, and wriggle out of the slip that kept you clothed. You were finally naked, and you took your free hands and squeezed each nipple. Between the feeling of Din’s fingers deep inside of you, his growing-bulge rutting against your clit, and the added pinch of your nipples, you were already in a euphoric bliss that didn’t take long to reach.

“Din-“ you moan his name, which he loved. He’s eager, and isn’t afraid to show it. Din pulls his cock out from his trousers, and he lets you grind against the tip. You keep it from going in, trying to tease him in the same way that he did the morning after the ball. It was really just driving you over the edge, really, and so before you let his swollen tip prod at your slickness anymore, you steady yourself on his broad shoulders, and take a deep breath before sinking down onto him. Both of you moan out when you do, and he throws his head back, exposing a thick cord of muscle in his neck. You bend down to nip at his adam’s apple before suckling into his tan skin, making sure to leave a massive, purple bruise on the middle of his neck. You bottom out as you do this, and the sensation shoots up your body. You liked being on top for the sheer fact that it gave you a different angle. Din’s length was pressing up into you now, and he filled you up delightfully. Your favorite feeling in the world was being stuffed by him like this.

You could feel every inch of him as you lifted your hips up, you were so wet and it was already such a loud, obscene noise. You kept sucking hickeys into him, and your hands moved from his neck down to the hem of his blouse. You grab the sheer fabric, and pull it up over his head so that Din is finally as shirtless as you. His huge hands stay on your ass, squeezing the fat there and using his own strength to lift you up and down on his cock. It’s slow at first, but it allows the both of you to really savor the feeling of one another. You scratch your fingernails down his pecs, scratching at his abdomen, and then finally trailing in between your legs to circle at your clit as the pace picked up. You lean forward to rest your glistening forehead on his bare shoulder, and your bare chests press into one another.

Din begins to thrust his hips up, and before you know it, you’re bounding on his cock. It’s fast and hard and your weight is slamming you down on to him over and over again with no end in sight. It’s painful in a good way, the same type of ache that would have good memories and passion attached to it. You knew your core would be sore tomorrow, but it was worth it as Din’s huge cock runs against your g-spot over and over again inside of you. Your fingers speed up on your clit, and you bite down on Din’s shoulder muscle to keep from being too loud. He’s grunting and growling and is absolutely feral and the noises eliciting off of his kiss-swollen lips are needy yet dominate at the same time. You could get drunk on his breathy-sighs, his voice as dark and husky as always.

“That’s it,” He groans into your ear, you moan in response to his words. You loved when he was vocal because it was so rare that he actually was. “Are you gonna cum on my fucking cock, Princess?” He asks.

“Mhm.” You pathetically moan.

“Fuck-“ he groans, and then shifts his position. Suddenly, the two of you are standing up, and the way his length moves and twitches inside of you as he stands up pulls an involuntary moan from your lips. Din lifts you up with his arms, arching his torso back so that you can lean on him. He then gets right back at the task at hand: chasing your orgasm. It was close, you could feel it, and somehow Din seemed to have more energy and strength in this position. He lifted you up and down on his cock, and your arms found their place wrapped back around his neck, desperately trying to hold yourself up as he absolutely tears into you. He was so big, you keep forgetting how thick he is until his swollen and hard cock is filling you up like you were only made for this exact thing.

He must have gotten tired, you could tell not only by the sheen layer of sweat on his chest, but he pulled you off of himself, and threw you onto the bed. You giggle at the forceful contact, and like being tossed around in bed. It made you feel small, and it really showed his strength. Din pumps his leaking cock a few times, kneeling in front of you and pulling your legs apart. You bite your lip out of lust before he slaps the head of his length on your cunt a few times. The sound is so dirty, and it makes you even wetter.

“Stars, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He bites his lip, slapping his cock harder against you. “Can you hear that? Can you hear how fucking wet that pussy is?” He asks you. Stars, he was good at this.

“Yes… so wet for you.” You sigh, your hand coming down to play with your clit again. Din mutters a ‘that’s right’ before he slides himself through your folds a few times again before pushing into you one more, and he doesn’t hold back. His hands find their way to your hips, and he presses them down into the bed as hard as he can, pinning you in place. He starts to pound into you, and it knocks the wind out of you because of how abrupt and forceful it is. You can’t even really make noise to show how good it was, and instead a few strangled and helpless cries pull from your throat.

“Do you fantasize about my cock when you’re with your fiance? Hm? Does it turn you on knowing that you’re cheating on him?” He asks, and you can finally moan out. He was right, he knew you would say yes.

“Yes!” You say, “I can’t stop thinking about your cock!” You reply, your voice high-pitched and so needy.

“Do you think about me fucking this pussy like a bitch on my cock when you’re in important meetings?” He asks again. There was something about the disrespect that you loved, it only made things better.

“Yes sir!” You cry. Din chuckles and then smacks your ass cheek. His slamming into you so hard that you can’t believe he hasn’t gotten tired yet. You can see how his muscles flex against the moonlight and your core is aching from the knight but it’s all worth it. “I’m gonna cum!” You warm, arching your back in pleasure. Din then spits on your cut, adding to the hot wetness and dirty sounds, and he pulls your fingers away from your clit and replaces them with his.

“Cum with me,” He groans, and almost immediately, you’re cumming on his leaking cock at the same time that he does. He cums so much, and you’re always surprised by it. His load drips down your folds, and he fucks you through it. It’s filthy and you want to keep doing it for the rest of your life. Your arms come up to grasp his biceps, trying to steady yourself on anything. Din moans loud when he cums, and it isn’t until he starts softening inside of you that he quits thrusting. He doesn’t pull out, however, and he stays stuffed inside of you as he catches your breath. You’re fucked-out, your eyes heavy and breasts heaving with each deep breath that tries to calm your heart rate. “I love cumming in you.” He sighs. You already knew that, but you loved how he told you. He goes to pull out, but your thighs squeeze together, holding him in place.

“Stay inside.” You whine. Din tilts his head.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He bends down to kiss your forehead, and then very carefully and slowly turns the two of you so that he is spooning you, his cock still buried inside your dripping and swollen cunt. “You did good, you did so good.” He kisses your neck as he says these, breathing in deep your scent. “S’good… so good.” He catches his breath, and is just as exhausted as you are, if not more. His chest heaves against your back, and his arms pull you against him. You fight against sleep, but ultimately fail, submitting to rest almost immediately after Din pulls the blanket over the both of you. Just before you fall asleep, you hear him mumble something against your neck, although you aren’t sure what it is.

Taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @carbonated-beverage @frogllady @baileys-corner @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @bewitchedbodyandsol @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplay Y @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl @mandosmistress @floraandfrost @paradoxpictures @stinky-child @goldielocks2004 @kenoobiwan @elinedjarin @uniquebiscuitmongerdonkey @artooies-scream @yuiopiklmn

“If you are included in the taglist, you are expect to interact with the post you are tagged in (ex. Reblogs, Notes and Comments). If I see that you are not interacting, you will be removed from the taglist permanently.”

—

part fifteen

#more to love fic #more to love #din djarin #din djarin x you #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #fan fiction #reader insert #star wars #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #rough day fanfic #royalcore #royalty au #princess x bodyguard #princess reader #princesscore #pedro pascal fic #mando x you #mando fluff #mando x reader #din djarin loves to c*m!! #din djarin likes to cuddle #knight din djarin

[mobbu-min]

BSD characters most to least likely to let their s/o paint their nails! (ADA ver.)

A/N: currently working on requests but i had this idea in the back of my mind for days so i had to get it out :) this was heavily inspired by me painting my own nails and is super self-indulgent ^^; i left out yosano and naomi bc you already know they have the nicest nails in yokohama 💅Anyways, if y'all like i can make a pt2 with the port mafia members! Enjoy~💗

Includes: dazai, atsushi, tanizaki, ranpo, fukuzawa, and kunikida

!Warning!- none!

Most likely:

- Dazai is jumping in! You don’t even have to ask, all you have to do is take out that bottle of paint and he’s already sitting down right in front of you with his hands stretched out towards you. Dazai either ranges from pitch black to hot pink or neon yellow. He says it accentuates his hands. If you know how to make designs be prepared to have your back aching for days! He always chooses the most intricate designs and he does it on purpose! But its worth it in the end because he’ll always have the most awe-stuck, goofy look throught the whole time and after. Anyways, Dazai says fuck gender norms.

- Tanizaki is in second place! Let's be honest, Naomi doesn’t let him leave their apartment without some sort of nail polish covering his nails, either be it clear or purple, he ain’t leaving bare handed. Also he takes really good care of nails and hands in general, like he moisturizes daily and uses those serums for your nails beds type of thing. He has a preference for lighter colors, like pastel pink or beige, but he’s not opposed to green or orange. As long as it's a muted color, he won’t really oppose it. Tanizaki definitely finds the process calming and ends up falling asleep(you and naomi have a folder of sleeping tanizaki photos-)

- Atsushi up next! I was originally going to put him in second place but scratched that idea for one reason, he doesn’t like the smell of the chemicals. Like he’ll tolerate it but the poor baby will get a really bad headache :( (my hc is that it has to do with his tiger abilities) So if you ask, you better prepare beforehand, ie opening all the windows and doors and getting a mask ready for him. Other than that, Atsushi doesn’t have a problem painting his nails. He really enjoys more neutral colors, like grey or black bc it matches his clothes. Or blues, like lapis or azure are really pretty on him. 

Least likely:

- Ranpo isn’t exactly opposed to the idea but he’s not fond of it. It both stems from him not liking the smell and that it takes too long to dry. It gets in the way of his snacking and he’s not happy about it. But Ranpo isn’t so stubborn that a little convincing from your part can’t change his mind. Offer to feed him or buy him all the snacks he wants and baby he's all yours!<3 Beware tho, he will complain about the smell the whole session.

- Second to last is our favorite dilf (gilf?) Fukuzawa! He keeps his hands in extremely nice condition. If it wasn’t for the small scars and calluses that litter his hands from being an assassin, he definitely could’ve been a hand model(or just a model in general) Since he's the head of the agency, he needs to have a professional appearance, much to your dismay. If you pester him about it enough, he’ll cave in and let you get your way. However it's on one condition, that it can’t be anything that will draw attention. So pretty much just a clear coat of nail polish. If you're lucky enough, maybe a really light brown or pink.

- And in dead last we have our favorite idealist, KUNIKIDA DOPPO!!! There's nothing you can do to convince him, like absolutely nothing. It’s not that he finds it gross or unmanly, but he simply can’t picture himself in it. Kunikida wants to keep a very professional appearance that he doesn’t realize that even his boss, Fukuzawa, has his nails painted. It also doesn’t stem from the fact that he's insecure of his masculinity, because he’s hella confident. Kunikida just has boundaries and that's a boundary he much rather not cross yet. 

#this is the most self-indulgent fic ive written in a while #and i really enjoyed it #also you cannot tell me that dazai wouldn't look so fuckin hot in black nail polish #especially mafia dazai! #a masterpiece #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #dazai x reader #tanizaki x reader #atsushi x reader #ranpo x reader #fukuzawa x reader #kunikida x reader

[qianinterprises]

Fated To You

Pairing | Kitsune!Yuta x Human, gn!Reader

Warning(s) | depictions of violence, minor character death, supernatural character, blood, mentions of stabbing, mentions of murder

Synopsis | You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you found the injured fox hiding away in the forest. However, after accepting the fox pup into your life as a new member of your home, you quickly realized that there was more to him than just an adorable fox with an odd number of tails.

Genre: supernatural au, fluff, angst, soulmates au

Author's Notes | I have had quite a longing to write a supernatural character, and, while my favorite supernatural creatures are werewolves (they're majestic amazing creatures, shush), I wanted to do something a little different, thus, Kitsune Yuta was born! This has also been posted on NCTA under the name Tori, so if you see it there, it's me. I really hope you enjoy this piece!

Word Count | 6.5k

Tag List: @treasuretaeil

The moon began to rise over the land, casting grotesque shadows over the forest as your feet moved carefully over roots that protruded from the mossy earth. Your hands held strong to the green flashlight clasped tightly in your fingers, lighting the way through the darkened trees as the sun continued to fade.

It had never been your intention to stay out this late. Fresh air. That’s all you had needed. Air to clear your head and calm you down from the near panic attack you’d thrust yourself into as you thought about all the papers and assignments you’d have to complete within the next few weeks.

It was a lot; juggling a full-time job and part-time university. You’d known it was going to be when you’d decided to finally finish your degree. What you hadn’t anticipated was everything piling up at the end, making you truly stretch yourself to get everything done correctly and on time without losing your job and crumbling under the impending weight of unemployment.

Luckily for you, behind your rented out house, was a forest. You weren’t exactly sure how far it stretched, nor had you ever explored it before, but you had a certain affinity for nature. When you began to lose yourself, you slammed your book shut and got up with a huff, grabbing your unused backpack out of the closet and setting out into the woods, hoping immersing yourself in nature would calm you down.

It had. Walking about, listening to the birds sing and the trees grow had soothed your mind and allowed you to relax for the first time in several weeks. You’d gotten so relaxed that, as you sat against a sturdy oak for water and a snack, you found yourself drifting off.

It was only recently that you had awoken. Your eyes blinked open as the sounds changed and the peaceful chirping birds were replaced with the soft, yet creepy, hoots of owls and the howls of wolves.

You’d never meant to be out there that long, but as you pulled yourself off the ground, you were thankful you were smart enough to have a packed back full of extra water, a few snacks, a rope just in case, a compass, a hunting knife, and a flashlight along with batteries.

As the sun descended, you pulled the flashlight from your backpack and here you were, wandering the woods at dusk, navigating your way back to your house in a forest you’d never been in before.

Perhaps it was the start of a disaster. Or perhaps it was keeping you away from your books for just a little longer.

Whatever the reason, you tried not to panic as you made your way through the woods in a direction you assumed was home but honestly, you were too sure.

You scanned your beaming light over varying trees, looking for the mark you’d left on a particularly girthy oak, a mark that would signal your correct direction and your soon entrance into the backyard of your home.

As your light hit along the trees, searching high and low, it caught the glow of a pair of glassy eyes not three feet from where you stood. With a shriek, you jumped back, stumbling over a tree root and falling back onto your bum, letting out a whine at the pain.

You shined your light back on the spot you’d saw the eyes and found them again, wide, yellow eyes staring back at you in, what you could only assume was fear. Fear that pulled at your heartstrings, because this wasn’t any regular fear of humans. This was absolute terror.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up onto your knees, dusting the dirt off of the bottom of your jeans as you carefully inched forward, careful not to spook the animal which you assumed to be a mistreated cat or an abused dog.

The animal didn’t move, seeming to be frozen in place as you moved closer. It was only when you managed to shift the bush it was hiding in that you realized what it actually was.

A fox. A small, dull orange fox that still resembled a pup. It had greying pointed ears and a dirt covered orange coat. As your eyes trailed over the body of the fox, they landed on the tail, or shall you say, tails! By your count, nine, although you knew that couldn’t be right! It’s tail was likely matted in nine big places! You pushed the question of tails out of your mind and roved over its body, finding surprisingly small paws and a muzzle covered in a crusty red which you quickly realized was blood. That fact alone should have sent you running, but as your eyes scanned it’s body, you quickly realized the source. An opened gash on the foxes side, just above it’s hip, steadily weeped a bright red liquid that would claim the fox’s life if kept untreated.

Your heart broke for the poor animal and you knew you couldn’t simply leave it to die. Carefully, you offered your hand for the fox to sniff and, as soon as he did, he seemed to trust you a little more.

You’d taken several animal science classes while pursuing your degree, and you knew the technical way animals seemed to trust a human just by sniffing them, but you always found yourself fascinated by the way an animal could get to know someone simply by sniffing their palm.

“I can’t leave you out here. You’ll die from your wounds if I do. Would it be alright if you come home with me?” you asked softly.

Part of you felt silly for speaking to a fox that couldn’t understand you, but as the fox nodded to your question, you felt relieved-

Wait… nodded?!

You stared wide eyed as the fox, who apparently could understand you, slowly crept from under the bush, small whimpers leaving it’s throat as it moved its hind legs. It no doubt hurt, especially with the placement of the wound.

“I doubt any animal hospital would be open right now,” you muttered, more to yourself than anything, but the fox froze in place, fear once again in its eyes.

“You don’t want to go to the animal hospital, do you?” you asked.

The fox shook his head-- you were really going to have to get used to that.

Sighing to yourself, you reached a hand out to gently stroke the orange fur, something the fox stiffened at before all together relaxing in your touch.

That was all it took for you to know you couldn’t let anything happen to this gentle fox.

“Can I pick you up?” you asked. “It may help get you back home with minimal bleeding.”

The fox seemed to pause, as if pondering and you were beginning to odd just how strange this fox truly was. Not like any other wild animal you’d ever happened upon, which, in turn, led you to believe that this was not just another wild animal.

The fox moved closer to you and touched its nose lightly to your hand. You took this as the ‘go-ahead’ and, very gently, you lifted to fox pup up into your arms.

It whimpered slightly, but as you pressed it’s wounded side purposely against your torso to still the bleeding, it relaxed in your arms.

You didn’t know how you were going to get him home. You weren’t even a hundred percent sure where home was, but as you shined your flashlight carefully clenched between your teeth, your eyes landed on the jagged ‘X’ you’d etched into the pine.

With a breath of hope, you moved toward the mark and within a few paces, you were standing in the yard of your house.

Carrying the fox through the yard was made easier by the darkness. You flicked off your flashlight, relying on memory so as not to draw your neighbor’s attention to yourself or the orange mass in your arms. When you finally made it to the front door, you opened the latch and let yourself into your messy living room covered in stay books and disposable coffee cups you hadn’t yet gotten rid of.

You latched the door behind you carefully and carried the fox going scarily limp in your arms through the house and into the bathroom.

“Don’t go to sleep, please,” you begged the droopy-eyed fox as you placed it in the bathtub.

It seemed to struggle to stand and you knew you had to work fast. Helping it lay down surrounded by the porcelain walls, you moved to the sing, ripping open the medicine cabinets and began rifling through everything you had, which wasn’t too much. You may have been training to be a veterinarian, but that didn’t mean you were already practicing.

Luckily, after shuffling around, you managed to find basic rubbing alcohol and peroxide along with several large bandages, gauze, and, the best find yet, suture thread with a needle.

Pulling on a pair of gloves you usually used to dye your hair, you turned back to the tub with your utensils only to find the fox had drifted off to sleep, pants leaving its mouth. It didn’t have much time left and you’d be damned if you let it die in your house.

Grabbing a towel and a pair of scissors, you knelt by the tub. With the scissors, you hastily cut away the fur surrounding the wound, getting yourself a better image of the wound itself while also making it easier to clean.

Once the wound was exposed, you didn’t know whether you were relieved or panicked, staring at the long gash clearly having been made from a sharp knife. This was no animal fight as you’d first thought. This was intentional and likely had been done by a human. No wonder it had been so scared, yet it begged the question, why had it trusted you?

You pressed a towel to the still weeping wound, pressing down hard to still the bleeding. Once it was mostly halted, you poured peroxide on the wound, flushing out any dirt and grime before washing it with rubbing alcohol that surely would have hurt like hell had the animal been conscious.

With the wound cleaned, you sterilized the suture kit with the rubbing alcohol and threaded your needle. You’d done suture’s before, but only on test dummies. Having a real patient had your stomach twisting in knots, but you didn’t have time to worry about it.

Bringing the needle to the skin, you began to stitch up the now cleaned wound, careful not to injure the fox further. The stitches weren’t pretty by the time you’d finished. A professional could have done a much better job, but at least the wound was closed. You placed a bandage over the wound before wrapping the gauze carefully around the fox’s waist, keeping it loose enough it didn’t constrict him, but tight enough to keep pressure on the wound.

Time was still sensitive. You very well may not have gotten to it before it lost too much blood and you had no way of administering a transfusion. It was solely up to the fox now whether it lived or died.

As it slept in the tub, you ran your fingers through it’s fur, too scared to leave it alone. As you stroked around the foxes neck, your fingers gazed over metal beads buried deep in the fur. Curiosity got the better of you and carefully, you pulled at the beads until you unveiled a dark metal necklace that resembled a collar only slightly.

Inquisitively, you trailed your fingers along the beaded necklace of a collar until you gripped the base, the end that hung down at the fox’s chest. It was then that you saw it.

Resting at the base of the necklace was a dog tag with only one marking. A marking that spelled out a name.

Yuta.

As you ran the tag over in your hands, careful to not disturb the fox, you found no address or number to call. There was nothing to give you any information about who this pup belonged to. However, you supposed, whoever it was wasn’t a very good owner if the knife wound were anything to go by.

Letting the necklace drop from your hold, you ran your hands over the fox’s head.

“Yuta,” you mumbled to yourself.

The name had a nice ring. A name that seemed to roll off your tongue as though your tongue was meant to speak it. And perhaps that holds true as the moment the last syllable left your throat, the fox was stirring, shifting as it-he slowly regained consciousness until his yellow eyes met yours.

Something seemed to stir inside you at that moment and you found yourself reaching out to touch the animal again, a touch the fox shifted into, nuzzling against your hand as if he wholly trusted you. You didn’t really know why the fox would trust you, but your heart beamed with joy. A joy that you knew meant you wouldn’t be letting this fox run back out into the wild unless it’s something he truly wanted, but you could already tell, the fox was going nowhere.

~

That statement seemed to hold true as the next few days passed and Yuta was finally able to walk around a bit more. He tired easily and had a bit of a limp, but he’d managed to walk from one room to another easy enough before giving you a look that begged you to pick him up. Even now, as you sat on the living room couch, laptop perched on your thighs, surrounded by mountains of resource material books, Yuta made his way from napping in the bedroom to where you sat.

You didn’t notice him at first, too caught up in your work that you were slightly unaware of your surroundings, but as he pressed his cold nose against your exposed ankle, you took in a sharp breath, eyes glancing down at the mischievous fox who had learned just how to get his way.

“What do you want?” you asked.

It had become normal for you to ask him questions you’d ask a human. The fox seemed more and more human every day, which made him likely the most intelligent animal you’d ever encountered. He truly was one of a kind.

‘Pick me up.’

A masculine voice suddenly permeated your made, making you yelp out at the suddenness of it all, head shaking as you dropped your computer onto the ground, hand coming up to hit lightly against your head.

That was a voice you’d never heard before and most definitely was not your consciousness.

‘Calm down human, it’s only me.’

The voice spoke again, eliciting yet another yelp from your lips as you looked around. There was no one in your house save for yourself and Yuta. No windows or doors were left open and, unless someone was hiding in your closet and speaking, there was no one around. The voice itself was too vivid, too clear to be heard through your ears anyways which ultimately lead you to the conclusion that the voice was in your head, although that didn’t make anything better.

“I’ve finally gone crazy!” you murmured to yourself, eyes wide with worry and fear. “I’m hearing voices! It’s only a matter of time before they lock me up!”

‘(y/n), calm down! It’s only me! Yuta!’

“What?!” you screeched.

You didn’t bother looking down at the fox on the floor. There was absolutely no possible way the voice in your mind was the voice of an injured fox named Yuta who’d come to live with you a few days ago! There was no possible way! You were just-

‘Would you stop saying you're crazy before you really upset me!’

“Leave me alone!” you squealed.

You jumped up off the couch when suddenly, a rush of tranquility washed over you, ebbing the panic away as the masculine voice was once again in your mind, this time, in a much gentler tone.

‘Calm down before you hurt yourself. Look down at me on the floor. Look into my eyes and you’ll understand.’

You don’t know whether it was the sudden sense of calm that had you keeping cool, curiosity, or sheer trust that had you lowering your gaze to the floor where they met Yuta’s yellow ones. As soon as your eyes locked on his, a rush of comforting heat surged through your body, spreading from your eyes down to your toes while washing over your brain. Your knees buckled and your body crashed against the couch as thoughts and memories surged through you, eventually knocking you unconscious, head lulling against the couch cushions.

Two Hundred Years Earlier

When you opened your eyes, your living room was nowhere in sight. Instead, you were standing in a deep, open space painted a galaxy shade of purple. Beside you was a handsome man with long, dark hair that touched his shoulders. He had a lean face and boxy jaw leading to a square chin that only added to his handsomeness. His shoulders were broad but he wasn’t all that muscular, rather, he was lean. A grey shirt wrapped around his frame, long black shorts flowed to a stop below his knees.

“Who are you?” your voice cracked.

“I am Yuta,” said the man, the voice the same one you’d heard in your mind earlier.

“W-what- How-...?” you couldn’t seem to conjugate the words properly.

“I wasn’t going to tell you until later. But I am Yuta, and the fox version of myself… well that’s technically my natural form. While injured, I take that form,” he explained.

You still couldn’t quite wrap your head around it. This Yuta was your Yuta… Your Yuta had a human form… Your Yuta… the fox you’d been sharing your bed with… had a human form…

“Easy now, I’m not sure what happens if you pass out when you're not awake!” the man said, hands grabbing your shoulders to still your wobbling form.

“But how-- I…”

“I’m going to show you,” he spoke softly.

With that, he snapped his fingers and the purple room evaporated from sight. You let out a small screech as it was replaced with air rushing around your face as your bodies hurtled straight from the sky into a forest you’d never seen before. A forest that certainly wasn’t in your backyard.

You touched ground without so much of a wince, your feet settling gently on the plush, mossy earth.

“You’ll get used to that,” Yuta promised as he clasped an arm around your waist to hold your quivering body steady.

“W-where are we…”

“Japan. 200 years in the past.”

“WHAT?! But-”

You trailed off as your eyes caught sight of a beautiful fox with nine tails flowing proudly from her backside strode up in front of your prying eyes, a young fox pup not too far behind, accompanied by his father who kept nudging at the pups hindquarters playfully, earning small little yips from the pup.

“They’re so adorable! Who are they?!”

Yuta didn’t answer for a long moment and when you looked at his face, you caught the fading wisps of a painful memory.

“The pup is me…” he spoke. “And my parents.”

You were about to open your mouth to ask about them when there was a rustle in the trees and a group of six men appeared, each one looking meaner than the next.

Yuta’s father turned away from the pup, who was drawn closer by his mother, as his father approached the men.

“Do you wish to honor our son?” you could hear the father ask although you knew he wasn’t physically speaking.

“Freak!! Unnatural piece of nature!!” screamed one of the men, drawing his sword.

“Hey! Show some respect!” you wailed, fist clenched as you glared at the man who seemed to not even notice you.

Yuta’s arm tugged on your waist, pulling you against his side.

“This is a memory… My memory… There’s nothing we can do or say that will change the past…” he whispered.

“You don’t want to do that!” Yuta’s father exclaimed. “We are kitsunes! We are luck and fortune!”

“Freak!!” the man squealed, swinging his sword at Yuta’s father, who turned to flee from the men, ready to protect his family with his power when another man slashed a sword at the fox’s backside, slashing through all nine tails.

You let out a squeak, hands coming to cover your mouth as a pained cry left the fox’s mouth moments before his body hit the ground and life left his body. You could see the spirit of the fox lifting, rising into the trees, where it would rest as a ghost, keeping watch on it’s family.

The men howled with glee and charged over the fox’s body, trampling it as they made their way for the mother and her pup.

The blaze of a campfire suddenly sparked from the place Yuta’s mother was planning on cooking dinner. A ball of fire lunged at the men, who dodged, and the fire only made them angrier.

The female, just as strong as her husband, held the men at bay with a wall of fire, managing to severely burn four of the six men before the kindling in the fire had died and all was left was embers. She could bend fire, but not without a fire.

“Looks like you’re all out of ideas,” one man, the man who’d killed his father chuckled.

The pup whimpered and burrowed itself in his mothers side, not quite old enough to possess all the powers of his parents.

Frantically, the female fox turned to the pup and, without hesitating, bit down onto its scruff. The pup cried out at the sudden jostle, but his mother did nothing but squeeze tighter. With her pup held close, she leaped over the fallen men and darted into the forest, putting as much distance between herself and the men as she could.

The air around you and Yuta rustled past your faces and suddenly, without moving your feet, your bodies were standing beside a fox and her pup who were now both panting, far from the men that would come searching for them.

“Yuta, listen to me child. The humans are turning on us, but you mustn’t let that stop you from being yourself, from being a true and great kitsune!” the fox’s voice permeated your mind. “The humans will hurt you, try to kill you as it has been prophesied, but you mustn’t let their ways sway you from your duties.”

“Mom!” the fox cried.

He could tell, even at such a tender age, what his mother was about to do.

“You will find your soulmate, who will be human, and you must make the human understand who and what you are. They must understand where you come from. And, if they accept you, bonds between man and fox will be restored once more!”

Her voice was urgent as the sounds of the men tracking them grew louder. Your heart hammered in your chest. You knew what was going to happen, but your heart wept at the fate of the family torn apart. Yuta’s arm around your waist fastened to you tighter, although you weren’t sure if he was holding you or himself together.

You don’t know what spurred you to move, but you turned toward him slightly, enough to unpin your arm from your side, and wrapped both of your arms around his middle, hugging him tightly as together, you watched his mother kiss her pups head softly before dashing off toward the men.

There were yells along with a high pitched whimper before her spirit rose into the air to join her mates, leaving the young pup all alone.

You buried your face in Yuta’s shoulder, squeezing him tighter as a few tears slipped from your eyes, dropping onto his shirt. You’d only witnessed a memory. Yuta had been there. You couldn’t imagine the pain he felt the day both of his parents were killed by greedy, uneducated humans.

Present Day

You stood there, embracing Yuta for what seemed like hours before the air was shifting around you again and, by this time, you knew what that meant.

When the air stopped and you opened your eyes, pulling your face from Yuta’s neck, you were standing against the wall of a small little shop that resembled what you would have imagined to be an apothecary’s shop. White-wicked candles burned around the tiny, clutter-filled room, casting a smoky glow around the shop, surrounding the shelved knick-knacks and bottles of liquid medicine. Inside the shop, sitting behind a desk stacked with papers, was a middle-aged man with snow white hair and tan, wrinkled skin, so many wrinkles it looked as though he were shedding. The bags under his eyes were drooping low on his face, making his entire face seem to sag.

“Who is he?” you asked.

“His name’s Mr. Huang.”

Yuta seemed to know that that didn’t answer your question, but you didn’t have time to inquire further before the door to the shop was opening and Yuta, your Yuta, walked in, dressed the exact same as he was now.

This must have been recent…

“Good afternoon, Mr. Huang,” Yuta greeted, giving him a respectful bow.

“What do you want, boy?”

Mr. Huang’s voice was mean and cruel, riddled with an angry snarl as his now beady snake eyes looked up to pierce Yuta’s brown ones.

“Is Mrs. Huang nearby? I had a few more questions about the prophecy regarding my soulmate,” Yuta said, seemingly unfazed by the man's harsh tone.

The question only seemed to make Mr. Huang angrier as stood up with, slamming his hands down on the desk.

“Mrs. Huang died this morning,” he snarled.

Yuta’s face dropped, skin growing pale as the man stalked toward him.

“You promised us she wouldn’t die!” the man hissed, slowly approaching Yuta.

Yuta backed up slowly, his eyes racing around the room, looking for something he could use for leverage when his eyes landed on an envelope with his name scrawled onto it.

Discreetly, he picked up the envelope and slid it into his back pocket.

“Mr. Huang, I did everything that I could do. I promised you’d I’d do my best to heal her! But she had lung cancer! I gave her as much life as I could!” Yuta said.

“That’s not good enough!” Mr. Huang yelled.

He reached into his back pocket and produced a long knife with a jagged edge. You gasped loudly as the man lunged at Yuta. Yuta, carefully dodged the first and the second jab, but by the third, his back was pressed against a wall. Mr. Huang stabbed the knife into Yuta’s side, right above his hip. Yuta cried out on pain, clutching his side.

“Let’s see how you fare against pure silver!” Mr. Huang snarled.

Silver wouldn’t kill him, but it would slow his healing way down. His body could be unable to atone for the wound. That coupled with his young form without having a soulmate to help him heal faster would prohibit him from healing much faster than a normal human.

With the blade still lodged in his side, Yuta shoved past the man and bolted for the door, running straight into the forest, careful not to be seen by any other human.

You followed this Yuta’s movements, your Yuta holding close to you as together, you watched this Yuta drop to his knees and pull the blade from his side, crying out at the pain before dropping it.

The boy cried out as he clutched his side in pain, slowing the bleeding as much as he could before leaning himself against a tree, the same tree near the bush where you’d found him.

His body began to shake with the weight of blood loss and you wanted to run to him, but your Yuta held you back.

“It gets better,” he whispered in your ear.

You didn’t like it. You hated watching the man die, but there was nothing you could do. This may be happening in front of you, but it had already happened in the past.

With shaky fingers, Yuta used his free hand to dig the now wrinkled envelope out of his pocket, specks of blood dotting the starch white.

He opened the envelope with that one hand and pulled out the letter inside. Somehow, you managed to see the letter from here.

Yuta,

If you can find it in your heart to forgive my husband for what he has done, please do. I know that he can have a temper, and he isn’t the best when it comes to dealing with his emotions, but he means well, usually anyways. I have no doubt that he has tried (if not succeeded) to commit bodily harm after my passing. He will likely be unable to handle himself after my death.

The truth is, I’ve always known there was nothing you could do about my condition. Guess that comes with the territory of being an old witch. You know when you’re going to die. But don’t worry, sweetheart, today is not your time. You still have that soulmate of yours to meet.

Your mother was right about the prophecy. I do apologize that I could not speak of it with you. The fact is, my husband is one of those humans that will be swayed when you meet your soulmate, and as such, I couldn’t have you or him finding too much information out. The future is tricky like that.

I just thought you should know, dear boy, that your soulmate will appear to you soon. I cannot say when. Yes, I know, but again, the future can be a tricky thing. When they do show up, they won’t hesitate to show you compassion and kindness. You will also find yourself drawn to their gentle soul. And they will be drawn to you, although they will not be able to explain. Go easy on them, hun. They are human after all. Humans are not as good at understanding things like this as you and I are. Be gentle. Ease them into it.

While all of this is nice, I do also have to give you a warning. When your soulmate is revealed to you, you will know almost immediately. However, it may take them a bit, especially if you aren’t as a human. Be patient. However, if all else fails, show them this letter. I will write your soulmate's name at the bottom. The future will allow that.

My second warning is to tell them your past. The burden is not yours to bear alone. Prophecy says that when you meet your human soulmate, humans will stop trying to kill you and those like you. Conspiracy says this is because they will understand who you are and what you are set on this earth to do. Unfortunately, this is not the case.

The gods have seen what terrible things humans can do, and it has swayed their opinions (for the better in my opinion). Rather than revealing your purpose to the humans, only a varying few will know the truth, your soulmate being one of them. The memories of Kitsune’s and other supernatural creatures will be erased from the minds of most humans, so you must be careful with this new chance in life. You must hide your identity as a Kitsune from everyone except family.

Now Yuta, I want you to know that these last two years have meant the world to me. I love you my dear boy and I will always be watching over you along with your parents.

Find your soulmate, and love them as hard and as deeply as you can.

Love,

Mrs. Huang

Ps: your soulmate's name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Treat them well.

Your eyes widened at the last note of the letter before Yuta folded it up and put it back in his pocket.

“(Y-Y/N)... but… that’s my name…” you muttered.

The man beside you didn’t utter a word as the Yuta you were watching suddenly began to quiver even harder than he already was and, within a few seconds, in his place was the same fox pup you’d rescued a few days ago.

“Wait… so… the pup… you really are the pup!” you exclaimed.

Yuta turned to stare at you, eyebrow raised.

“Tell me you didn’t just get that.”

You didn’t say anything back, instead trained your eyes back on the pup who was crawling under the bush to hide. Time suddenly began to speed up and within a few moments, you saw yourself kneeling in front of the bush in the dark, peering at the fox.

“So I… I was meant to find you… We’re connected…”

Yuta nodded.

“You’re my soulmate, and I am yours.”

You didn’t say anything. Your voice felt like it was locked in your throat as a rush of air once again brushed past your face, taking you somewhere new, although you weren’t sure what else was left to see.

“The future is a tricky thing,” Yuta’s voice whispered as the world became a blur of shapes and colors as you were taken to someplace new to see more sights that would expand your outlook on life itself.

Undetermined time in the future

The wind stopped brushing past your cheek and you stood in front of a small, cozy house with a broad backyard and a large forest filled with thick trees, perfect for running. You saw yourself, or rather, an older version of yourself, sitting on a pink and purple throw blanket in the middle of the backyard. Beside you sat a brown picnic basket waiting to be opened and a vacant seat on the other side of the blanket. The older you smiled softly as the clouds in the sky parted and a beam of sunlight shone down, warming your body naturally.

Older you looked far too happy to be on that picnic alone, so your eyes scanned the valley for someone you hoped was there.

“I haven’t seen this yet either,” Yuta whispered.

He brought his arm back around your waist, keeping you fixed to his side, not that you were complaining. Somehow, it felt you belonged at his side.

As your eyes scanned the yard, you almost missed the two bodies emerging from the forest. One was the body of a tall man, a body you immediately recognized to be Yuta’s. The other was a much smaller body, the body of a young girl whom you couldn’t see all that clearly.

Yuta’s breath hitched and you turned to look at him.

“Do you know her?”

He shook his head, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the two as they approached the picnic blanket where the older you waited, waving your hand to the two with a bright grin on your face.

Yuta’s reaction to the girl had you pausing to take a closer look at him, waiting for him to tell you who this young girl was. When he seemingly noticed you staring, he turned to look at you.

“I honestly don’t know her. But she has been prophesied many times,” he spoke, voice shaking with emotion.

“She wasn’t in the prophecy I heard,” you conjured.

Yuta shook his head, a smile breaking out across his face.

“There’s not just one prophecy,” he answered. “There are many, about many different things that allow us a glimpse into our fate, but somehow, they never play out the way you think they will.”

“Can you tell me the other prophecies?”

Yuta turned his attention back to the scene and urged you to do the same, but you caught him nodding to your question as the little girl jumped into your lap, laughing and giggling as you began to tickle her.

“I will tell you all of them,” he promised.

The scene before you was nothing like what you’d seen earlier. There was no blood or death or attempted murder. No sacrifices or ominous warnings. There was nothing but peace and love, and if that was your fate, you were happy with it.

The older Yuta sat down beside you on the picnic blanket and, as the young girl became distracted chasing a butterfly, he dipped a finger under your chin and lifted your face to his.

“I love you, my Flower,” he spoke softly.

“I love you too, my Fox.”

He pressed a soft kiss against your lips, a kiss so soft you felt as though you were prying just by watching, and, although it didn’t last long and your own lips hadn’t felt the gentle touch, you knew there was no kiss quite as sweet as the ones from Yuta.

~

The backyard disintegrated into an array of pickles before your eyes fluttered open and you were staring at the ceiling of the same rental house you’d spent the last three years.

“Was it all a dream?”

“Yes and no,” a familiar voice spoke next to you.

This time, you didn’t jump at the sound of the voice, although you weren’t sure if it was because it was familiar, or if it was because it wasn’t in your head this time.

Turning your head, you caught the sight of Yuta, standing just as he had been in your dream, wearing clothes that were coated in blood, likely the same ones he’d been wearing when he was stabbed.

“How are you not a fox anymore?” you asked.

He smiled as he knelt down on the couch where you were still sprawled out.

“Your human mind couldn't accept the truth earlier. That’s why you freaked out when I began speaking into your mind, which is something I can only do in fox form,” he added. “When I calmed you down by accessing your nervous system, I realized you were going to have to see the truth, so I knocked you out and took you on the journey with me. You had to live through that one way or another,” he explained.

You didn’t understand, not really anyways, not the full story, at least. What you did understand was 1) Yuta was a kitsune, 2) he had a very dark past, and 3) you were his soulmate and, although you hadn’t known him for very long, you were 100% ok with that.

“Now, do you think you can stay calm long enough for me to do something I was dying to do the entire time?” he asked.

“What?”

“This.”

Without further exchange of words, Yuta’s plump lips were on yours and, for the first time through the whole ordeal, you could feel it. And you knew it wouldn’t take much until you were addicted. Because he was Nakamoto Yuta. Kitsune. And your soulmate.

#ficscafe #lsn.works #kdiner #klibrary #yuta x reader #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #nakamoto yuta #nct yuta #nct x reader #nct x you #nct x y/n #kitsune #supernatural #yuta oneshot #nct oneshot #nct supernatural #kitsune x human #kitsune x reader #nct fluff #yuta fluff #nct angst #yuta angst #nct soulmate au #yuta soulmate au

[forzalando]

royally screwed | fw | pt. two

pairing: prince!fred x princess!reader word count: 2.4k warnings: cursing, mentions of meals/food, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers a/n: hello friends! happy valentine’s day!!💛the long awaited part two is here and i hope you all enjoy!😊bonus points if you catch the subtle hp references in this chapter hahaha thank you to @spacexcowgirl​ for beta reading, i love you dearly!! you can read part one here

summary: Prince Frederick Weasley of Burrow was a twin, but unfortunately, at least in his mind, he was born the eldest twin, meaning it was his duty to inherit the kingdom. Since the young age of ten, Fred knew that he was to marry Princess Y/N Y/L/N of Diagon, and over the years they’ve both come to dread the day. With the eve of their wedding closely approaching, their disdain for each other begins to worry their respective families. However, there is a very fine line between love and hate.

Y/N awoke the next morning and immediately recounted the previous day’s events; she could feel the puffiness in her face and eyes from the tears shed after her Mother left her room. She had hoped that their conversation would go differently, but it was done and there was nothing left she could say regarding the matter.

A sharp knock on Y/N’s chamber door had her jumping up and crossing the room faster than her feet would carry her. She stumbled a bit, almost crashing into the door before pulling it open, only to see the most peculiar sight.

Frederick Weasley, with his siblings stood behind him, although George was standing rather close so that he could pinch his brother’s ear.

“Well,” Ginny goaded, “go on then, you arse.”

Fred turned swiftly to shoot his sister a glare, but George’s grip on his ear had him wincing in pain.

“You better get going or I swear I’ll rip it off,” George grumbled, struggling to hide the jesting smile creeping on his face.

“Fine, fine,” Fred huffed. “Princess Y/N, I would like to apologize for my behavior last night. It was entirely unacceptable and I hope that you can find it in your impossibly sma-”

Ginny quickly stomped on Fred’s foot, interrupting what Y/N was sure would be an insult.

“Pardon me, your impossibly large heart, to forgive me. I was also wondering if you would care to join me for breakfast in the drawing room.”

George promptly let go of Fred’s ear, but not without one final yank, and the entire clan of Weasley siblings looked at Y/N expectantly, awaiting her answer with fervor.

“You must be absolutely mad, Frederick Weasley,” she scoffed, folding her arms across her chest in defiance. “After your attitude last night, which you had for no reason, I might add, and you come knocking on my door to ask if I want to have breakfast with you? I don’t want to see your face unless I have to!”

“I’m trying, Y/N! You said that the least I could was try, so here I am, offering to spend time with you when I’d rather lick the floor in the foyer.”

“Well, then, feel free to go scrub the floors with your tongue because I will not join you for a meal today or any other day!”

Fred stalked away with no objections from his siblings, who were all laughing at Y/N’s quip. She had a satisfied smile on her face as well, but it quickly fell when she averted her gaze to the three other Weasley siblings.

“Now what exactly did you think that was going to accomplish?” Y/N spoke with a, mostly, playful glare to the three standing before her.

“Honestly, we were hoping a bit that you wouldn’t answer the door. Mum made us drag him down here,” George answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“But, now that we are here,” Ginny said excitedly, “will you have breakfast with us?”

Y/N smiled softly; she could never say no to spending time with her only friends.

“Let me get dressed and I’ll meet you…where should I meet you?”

“The drawing room…” Ron mumbled, hoping Y/N wouldn’t recall that Fred wanted to take his breakfast there as well.

“You three are insufferable,” Y/N laughed, “however, I’ll be there in ten. Hopefully he will be gone by then.”

Y/N gently shut her door and quickly threw on a dress and her day slippers; her mother would absolutely have a fit if she saw the disheveled state she was in, but Y/N simply couldn’t care.

After a quick glance in the mirror, Y/N hurried through the castle corridors that she had come to know so well and made it to the drawing room in record time. To her delight, Frederick was nowhere to be seen.

“Good Morning, dear,” Queen Molly said warmly from her seat. “Have you by chance seen Fred this morning?”

Y/N heard the quiet snickering of Ron and George and then a hushed “shut it” that could only have come from Ginny.

“Oh, yes, Queen Molly, he stopped by my chambers to apologize. Very out of character for him, I wonder if someone slipped something into his morning tea.”

Molly Weasley hummed lightly, taking the slightly sarcastic tone of Y/N’s voice to mean that things hadn’t gone as she directed.

“That’s lovely, dear, maybe you’ll actually have a civil conversation in the gardens.”

Y/N set down her tea slowly, trying not to act shocked because she had no knowledge of a walk in the gardens.

“The gardens? I didn’t know anything about the gardens,” Y/N mused inquisitively.

“That’s where Fred is right now, I told him you’d be along in a few minutes. He even looked a bit excited,” Molly teased.

Y/N snorted inelegantly and immediately covered it with a cough; she rose from the table and looked pleadingly at George, hoping he could come up with some form of an excuse that would save her from time spent with Frederick, but George refused to look at her and continued eating his breakfast unbothered.

“I’ll go meet him now, Queen Molly. I’m sure he’s awfully busy so we can make this short,” Y/N said with a smile.

“Fred is free all day, I cleared his schedule, dear.”

“Brilliant,” she grimaced.

With a half-hearted wave, she left the drawing room and begrudgingly walked towards the gardens, smiling politely at each person she passed. Even if her future husband did not care for her, Y/N took comfort in knowing that his family and the people in the castle did; she hoped it would make the rest of her life tolerable.

All too soon, Y/N felt the sunshine on her face as she stepped into the magnificent palace gardens. She could spot Prince Frederick’s fiery hair a mile away; he was standing near the rose bushes twirling a yellow one between his long fingers.

The rustling of the grass between Y/N’s feet caused Fred to turn around to find the source of the noise.

He stalled a bit; even though he despised the Princess of Diagon, he could never deny that she was breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair was unkempt, a soft pink, cotton gown swished around her legs as she stalked toward him, and her face was set in a scowl but even the worst grimace could not distract from her captivating eyes.

It was entirely infuriating, and it made Fred want to hate her even more, but some intrinsic force wouldn’t allow him.

“What are you staring at?” Y/N asked, her eyebrow raising.

“Nothing,” Fred replied with a shake of his head. “I’m just thinking of all the ways I’d rather spend my morning.”

“Well, it seemed like you were staring at me. Do it again and I’ll push you into the rose bushes, I don’t care if you are the future King.”

Fred turned his head and tried not to crack a smile, but failed miserably as the corner of his mouth quirked up involuntarily.

“Let’s get this over with, Y/N, can your stubby legs keep up?”

“It’s not my fault you shot up like a bloody bean pole; you went from stumpy to looking like someone sewed tree limbs together and animated them.”

“Most women like tall men.”

“I like tall men, Frederick, I just don’t like you.”

A stunned silence fell over the two royals, only the sounds of the rustling leaves and nearby animals could be heard.

“I suppose that’s why you like Prince Cedric, then?”

“Beg your pardon?” Y/N’s eyes widened, confused at the sudden interrogation.

“Your conversation with your Mother last night, how you begged her to marry him instead. Or my brother. Or that horrid Malfoy.”

“You had no right – that was a private conversation. How dare you eavesdrop on my personal business? Every time I think you have a shred of decency you prove me wrong, Frederick Weasley.”

Fred stepped in front of the Princess, blocking her path and preventing her from walking on.

“Prove you wrong? I had come to your room to apologize when I heard you plotting with your Mother to run off with someone else and disrespect my family.”

“I would never disrespect your family. They’ve never been anything but good and kind to me, the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt them. I haven’t the slightest idea how you’re related to any of them.”

“Oh, I know, you have them all wrapped around your little finger,” Fred scoffed.

“I’m not going to stand here and fight with you, Frederick, I don’t have the energy. Can we please just keep moving and we can tell your Mother we had a wonderful time and learned so much about each other.”

Y/N stepped around Fred, lightly grabbing his wrist to pull him along through the endless rows of flowers.

“She’ll probably quiz us and you don’t even know my favorite color,” Fred griped.

“It’s purple, I think,” Y/N blurted. “I overheard you telling your Mum years ago that you wanted purple frosting on some dessert. I figured that meant it was your favorite.”

“And you remembered?”

“There aren’t a lot of things I forget about the people in my life, Frederick. If it’s important to you, I’ll remember.”

“But you don’t care about me, why did you even bother?”

Y/N sighed and shook her head before turning to look at Fred, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate you. I don’t particularly like you, maybe in a different life we’d actually be friends, but I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone.”

Fred realized this was the longest they’d gone without arguing in years, and it was barely one tenth of a conversation. He turned his head slightly to watch Y/N, taking in the way she gazed lovingly at the surrounding flora, and noticed her eyes linger a bit longer every so often.

“Yellow,” Fred mumbled.

“What was that?” Y/N asked.

“You look longer at the yellow flowers. Yellow is your favorite color.”

Y/N smiled softly, the same smile she’d given Fred when she had arrived the day before but it was infinitely more sincere.

“If you were like this all the time, you wouldn’t be so bad Frederick.”

“Who says I’m not?”

Y/N rolled her eyes and this time Fred could not contain himself; he laughed loudly, and the sound triggered a fluttering of sorts in the Princess’s chest. They continued their walk, chattering idly and the Prince even picked a blooming yellow rose and delicately handed it to his Princess.

“I really did want to apologize last night, you know,” Fred assured. “I didn’t have any reason to be so rude when you arrived, I guess it was just…habit. We have a way of getting under each other’s skin.”

“Apology accepted, for your rudeness yesterday, of course. But, you owe me another.”

“Another?”

“Yes, for eavesdropping on me and my Mother.”

“That conversation involved me, I hardly think it’s one I shouldn’t be aware of if you’re trying to finagle your way out of our betrothal.”

“It may involve you, but it was a private conversation.”

“That involved me.”

“My God, I’ve said it before but truly every time I think you can redeem yourself, you do or say something completely asinine. Do you have any manners?”

“You were talking about me, I felt I had a right to listen!”

Y/N groaned loudly in annoyance, drawing the attention of the nearby guards.

“I don’t even believe you wanted to apologize, you had the chance this morning and just insulted me like you always do! Every decent part of you is nothing but an act!”

“You don’t even know me,” Fred seethed.

“No, I don’t, but it’s because you won’t let me!”

“You’ve never even tried, don’t attempt to play me for a fool, Y/N.”

“Well, I’m trying now. I’m trying now and still all we can do is fight.”

The two stood toe to toe, breathing heavily and staring into each other’s eyes. After a few moments, Y/N looked away and sighed deeply. It sounded almost dejected, Fred realized, rather than the anger he had expected.

“Go ahead of me back to the castle, please, I’d like to actually enjoy the rest of the walk.”

“I don’t have to take orders from – ”

“You’ll do as I say, Frederick Weasley,” Y/N snapped.

Fred wanted to argue; God, did he want to argue with her until he was blue in the face, but something about the tone of her voice frightened him a bit. So, he scoffed and stalked back to the castle, swinging his fists by his sides and gritting his teeth.

He passed by his twin, giving George a half-hearted wave before entering the castle. It wasn’t hard to sense the tone of what had transpired, and George shook his head and took off running towards the gardens to find Y/N.

“Oi! What did he do this time?” George shouted as he slowed to a stop in front of Y/N.

“Just the usual. Acting like a pompous prick that can do no wrong. He was nice for two minutes and then refused to apologize for eavesdropping last night on a conversation between me and my Mother!”

George rolled his eyes and raked a hand down his face, massaging his temples in preparation for the headache that his brother always managed to give him.

“Y/N, you know he’s not malicious, he’s just an idiot sometimes,” George offered.

“I appreciate you defending him but at the moment it’s going in one ear and out the other, Georgie.”

He laughed and slung an arm around the Princess’s shoulders, joining her on the remainder of her walk through the gardens. He noticed Y/N twirling a yellow rose around and every so often lifting it to inhale its sweet scent.

“Stealing flowers from our gardens, eh?” George jested, bumping his hip into Y/N.

“Frederick picked it for me, actually,” she mumbled.

“Well, that’s sweet. You two can get along, is what I’m seeing and hearing.”

“It was a momentary lapse of judgment,” Y/N sighed, before throwing the perfect rose to the ground and ensuring her slipper crushed the delicate petals.

When they were good and flattened into the Earth, she swore she felt an ache in her chest.

taglist: @theweasleyslut @vivacesole @weasleyclaw @nuttytani-reblogs @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @wildfire-whizbangs @gcdricreads @amhyeah @62442-am @letsgotothehop @emrysts @fuckoffthanos @uponashelf @justalittleweirdoo @evermoreweasley @feminafatales @pxroxide-prinxcesss @lumosandnoxwriting @weelittleweasley @darthwheezely @lovecroftreads @whizboingies @love-peachh @harrysweasleys @wand3ringr0s3 @gredmforge @vogueweasley @gryffindcrghost @adrianpuceyishot @spacexcowgirl @freds-slut @phoenixes-and-wizards @parseltongueswriting @geostarr @snoopydoop1 @lana-isabelle @kaye-lantern @aworldinsideaperson @starlightweasley @emeraldbears20 @lupinsclassroom @barnesjamcs @thisuserlovesyouandyouandyou @dracosgoodgirl @expectoevans @scoobiessnacks @crissdanvers @itsbebeyyy @ovrwd @satellitespidey @softlyqoos @dandyylions @anxxi0s @raiaurii @gloryekaterina @godricsswords @wischief @amourtentiaa @lmaoitsmebro @legitlaughingflamingo @rodrickmalfoy @listenhereyousupernova 

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley au #fred weasley #prince!fred au #enemies to lovers #royally screwed #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x f!reader #fred weasley fic

[whump-a-la-mode]

Perhabs could u continue the drabble of the mad scientist waking up captured by the hero and told they have to work for them? It was mmmm so good I would love to see more - blue ✨💙

Thank you so much for the prompt fren blue! Sorry it’s taken me so long to get to this, but in better news, I’m at almost 35k in my book!

This one is a little unorthodox, but I hope you enjoy!

CW//Electrocution, dehumanization, forcefeeding, captivity

For Mad Scientist, it was nap time.

At the very least, that was what the Voice had demanded of them. The stupid, tinny little voice, buzzing from both sides of their head at once. The Voice had stated it to be nap time, and they had been far too exhausted to resist.

Besides, the bed was comfortable. In some ways, they hated that fact, even as they now snuggled deeper beneath the thick, quilted duvet. It was a true bed. Not a cot, nor a concrete slab. No, it was a real, wooden bed, mattress, blankets and all.

They would almost have preferred the concrete. At least then, sleep wouldn’t have threatened to take them as their body shifted deeper into the boxspring. Then, they would have felt like a prisoner.

When Mad Scientist had spat in Hero’s face, their response to being told to ‘comply’, they were more than expecting to be struck, or sent off to some torture chamber. In fact, that was exactly what they had been led to believe when they were shoved in a wheelchair and rolled down a long, grey, tiled hallway, which met their every expectation.

Then, they’d been dumped into a bedroom. That was what it was, though now, they didn’t dare to look out from under the covers. Didn’t dare to incite the Voice’s ire, to make it realize that they were not actually asleep.

As much as the room’s steel door was deadbolted shut, it was still strangely, terribly comfortable. The floor was thickly carpeted, so much so that she could stick her hand into the threads and nearly lose sight of it. Wood paneling turned bare walls into a cozy environment, aided even more so by the soft orange light that buzzed overhead. Alongside the steel door, another, wooden door led to a compact en suite restroom.

Hell, it was even nicer than the room Mad Scientist stayed in in their normal abode, above their lab. It was still a cell, of course, but even calling it nice would be an understatement. It was comfortable, and they hated it.

It was a cell, and they were a prisoner.

Beneath the covers, a shimmering yellow light ignited, and the Voice spoke:

“Nap time is over. It is now time to read.”

They were a prisoner, and the Voice controlled their life. That was the worst part of it. In some ways, no, in a lot of ways, Mad Scientist would have preferred to be kept captive in the normal sense. To be stuck in a dark, dank cell, and beaten until there was more blood in their lungs than air.

At least then, they would have had control. The control, the ability to tend to their own wounds, to sleep when they so chose, and to not sleep when they did not choose to.

Here, they had no control. Not an ounce of it. It made them want to tear their hair out, but the Voice would not allow it. They couldn’t even harm themself. Didn’t even have the option of pain.

The Voice had spoken its command, but the scientist had no intent to read. No desire to, either. Instead, they nestled deeper into their bed, hoping that, perhaps, sleep would at last take them.

But nap time was over.

The only warning they were given was another flash of those bright lights-- that was the worst part of it, perhaps. The Voice itself came from a pair of vivid yellow tags that had been clipped onto their ears, marking them like cattle. That was where the light came from, as well, and, of course, the pain.

It felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck the very tip of their spine, where vertebrae connected to their skull. There was nothing voluntary about the scream that was ripped from their throat, nor the way they scrambled off the bed in a panic, leaving the duvet in a messy heap.

Terror lurched in their heart as they crawled across the carpeted floor, thick shag at least giving their fingers something to curl into. The agony tore their muscles to shreds, making even the most slight of movements feel as though they were moving through water. Making it to the chest of drawers was an excruciating effort, taking the book out from the first drawer even more so. Their fingers trembled desperately as they tore open the novel to its first page, finding the very first word, printed in bold under a neat typeface that read ‘Chapter One.’

It was only then that the agony stopped. Mad Scientist fixed their trembling gaze upon the words, eyes moving down the page.

The Voice said it was time to read, and thus time to read it was. They knew full well what would happen if they dared to take their eyes off the page.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

When the knock came on their cell’s door the next day, it was TV time. That was what the Voice referred to it as, at least. For Mad Scientist, it was the time when a screen rolled down from a wall, and they were made to sit on the floor and stare at it until their ear tags said they were done.

It had perhaps become their least favorite part of their strictly-enforced routine, besides the times when they were held down by guards and hand-fed slop. Hell, even that was more entertaining than sitting and watching sitcoms. Their captors could have at least put on Star Trek, but no. It was shitty comedies.

The laugh track made their ears hurt. For them, the knock was a welcome respite, in some ways, even as it terrified them in equal measure. They had just had lunch. Dinner wouldn’t be for a long while.

Yet, when they looked away from the screen, their ear tags gave a bright flash, and their eyes locked once more at the blinding pixels. Their muscles still burned from their last bout of electrocution.

Thus, when Hero entered the room, they could only be identified in Mad Scientist’s peripheral vision. And, of course, by their stupid, snarky voice.

“Enjoying your stay?”

The scientist waited for the TV’s next laugh track to play out before they responded:

“The second I get out of here, I’m going to kill everyone in this building.”

“Yeah, sure you are.” Their captor snarked. “You can look away, now.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Fine, then. I guess I’ll just be on my way and leave you to enjoy, what is that, Seinfeld?”

“Friends.”

“Sheesh. And I thought I told them not to torture you. Look, if you want to be left alone, then I’ll leave you. But I really do think you’d like to hear my offer.”

That got them to turn their eyes away from the TV. Their ear tags flashed, but no agony accompanied the warning. Their eyes flashed with floaters from staring at the screen from too long, but soon their vision had cleared, giving them a crystal clear view of  the biggest jerk on planet Earth.

“Offer?”

“I’m sure you remember when you first woke up, that I offered you a position in our labs.”

Mad Scientist gritted their teeth.

“Not happening.”

“I expected that. That’s not my offer. We have our own scientists, yes, and they’ve been absolutely befuddled by your work that we seized.”

“Don’t touch my shit.”

“That’s not your choice I’m afraid. No. What I want from you is information.”

Before Mad Scientist, Hero lay a piece of paper and a pen.

“Your serum.”

“What about it?”

“My scientists would like to know its chemical structure. I’ve heard that testing has so far proved... volatile.”

The scientist curled an upper lip into a snarl.

“And what’s in it for me?”

“Freedom-”

“Really?”

“The freedom to feed yourself.”

Well, that dashed their hopes quick.

“You mean your grunts won’t force slop down my throat anymore?”

“Yes. You’ll be feeding yourself that slop.”

They hated just how good that sounded to them in that moment. Though their hand shivered with fury as they picked up their pen, begrudgingly, Mad Scientist began to draw the diagram.

Even as they hated it, they would do anything to get their control back.

#villain whumpee #whumpblr #whump community #whump #hero villain whump #scientist whumper #mad scientist whumpee #whumpee #whumper #hero whumpee #hero x villain #whump writing #whump scenario

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Wooed

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Warnings: Cursing; Fluff Notes: I watched a supercut of Marcus Pike’s scenes and uh... Yeah. I’m in love? also i’ve never written for this man before so i’m sorry if this is awful Summary: You hadn’t been on a date since you’d started working for the bureau; truth be told, you’d been nursing a crush on Marcus for the last few months. 

When you told him, he seemed… Horrified. You couldn’t believe you were even having this discussion, but, hell, when you’re on a stakeout with someone, you run out of other things to talk about (even after you’d grilled him for the details of the band that he used to be in). Frankly, it was a wonder that it had taken you that long to reach relationships - the two of you had been in that car for nearly three hours. You’d known that Marcus had been married and divorced once; you hadn’t known about his most recent relationship, before he’d moved to DC, though. And after he’d spilled his guts, it was only fair that you do the same.

To you, it wasn’t that odd. The relationships that you’d been in had mostly started as friendships, and had grown to more. They weren’t whirlwind romances.

“So?” Marcus had asked, frowning, shaking his head. “So… So what you’re describing wasn’t, like… Part of the package,” You shrugged. “They didn’t even try?” “Try what?” You laughed. “You know, taking you out, buying you flowers, introducing you to their friends--” “I usually knew their friends already.” “Flowers?” “Allergic.” “Taking you out.” “I mean, sometimes, sure. That’s par for the course no matter who you’re dating, right?” Marcus leaned back in the driver’s seat, watching you, and you turned to eye the house that you guys had been watching. There had been no change; no car had pulled up, no one had come outside. “You’re allergic to all flowers?” You rolled your eyes. “I haven’t given every single flower in the world an individual whiff to make sure, but pollen makes me sneeze, yeah.” 

The two of you settled into quiet again; Marcus’ focus returned to the house, but you could tell that his mind was still elsewhere. “Okay, tell me something,” He said after a few minutes. “Hm?” “Your last relationship.” “Mhm?” “Started as a friend and… Became more?” “Mhm.” 

“Once that happened, you guys just, what, flipped a switch?” You considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Things were the way they had been, just with a...Physical component. Why are you so hung up on this?” You added, turning to look at him. 

“Cause, everyone oughta be… I don’t know… Wooed-- at least once.” Your brows rose. “Wooed?” You repeated, amused. “Yes. Wooed,” Marcus doubled down, nodding. 

“When was the last time you were wooed?” “It’s been a while.” “So you’re overdue and projecting,” You decided, turning back to the house. “I am not--! I am not projecting. Would I mind it? Of course not, but I’ve been wooed before. You’ve never had the experience, and that is a shame.” You rolled your eyes as the two of you settled back into an easy quiet. “... I bet you’d like it.” “Hm?” “Being wooed.” “You realize if I had a nickel for every single time you’ve said ‘wooed’ in the last ten minutes, I’d have twenty cents?” You retorted. If you had just a touch less composure, you were pretty sure you’d combust. Your very attractive, very available, very nice-smelling boss was talking about wooing in close-quarters. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him again; you could hardly stand the wide-eyed puppy-like way he’d blinked at you before when you’d told him that your ex-boyfriends had never been particularly romantic. But Marcus just chuckled despite your prickly tone. The sound was cut off by his cell phone ringing. You glanced down at it before turning back to the house. “Pike,” Marcus answered. You waited, listening for a few moments. “Uh huh… Thanks, Wallace.” You glanced over at Pike as he hung up. “Did they get a hit?” You asked. “Yeah, Wallace and Fernandez are tailing him now, so we’re clear,” Pike said, setting his phone aside and starting the car up. “Sweet,” You sat up, refastening your seatbelt. You and Pike chatted idly as he drove back to your apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” You pushed down a yawn as you undid your seatbelt and reached back to grab your jacket from the backseat. “Yeah… Hey.” You stopped at Marcus’ voice, turning to look at him again. And damnit, there were those wide brown eyes again. “Yes?” You asked. “Are you busy tomorrow night?” “No, why?” “Lemme show you what you’ve been missing.” If it were anyone else, you’d be convinced that he was putting you on, and you’d shrug it off and laugh. But there was something just a little too soft, a little too sincere in the way he spoke. “...Pike, you don’t have to do this because you feel bad about my supposed lack of wooing--” “Well, maybe my reason is a little more selfish than that,” He shrugged a shoulder, a bashful smile tugging at his lips, “Whaddaya say? No pressure, either way.” 

You believed Marcus when he said that there was no pressure; he didn’t seem the type to make your life hell if you turned him down. Thing was, you didn’t want to turn him down. “Alright, Pike,” You nodded, adding, “Woo me,” Before getting out of the car. -- You wound up out of the office and tailing the suspect with Wallace for most of the following day, so you didn’t need to worry about keeping a cool head in the office around Pike. That was a relief-- you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so antsy. You hadn’t been on a date since you’d started working for the bureau; truth be told, you’d been nursing a crush on Marcus for the last few months. 

The man was sweet and incredibly considerate. He seemed to take notice of the little things about you - how you took your coffee, when you’d gotten your hair trimmed, the fact that you preferred french toast to pancakes (which he told you was just weird). Your time chatting during the stakeout had only confirmed the feeling you’d had since meeting the man: you wanted to get to know him better. You and Wallace were able to pick up the suspect and bring him in for questioning. By the time you’d filled out your report, it was nearly time for you to leave for the night. You knocked on the half-open door to Marcus’ office, holding up your report. He waved you inside. “Wallace said everything went fine,” He said. “No complaints. Guy’s in holding for now.” “Good.” Marcus took your report, but instead of looking over it like he typically did, he looked up at you. “You still up for later?” He asked. “Mhm.” “You sure?” “Uh-huh.” “Positive?” “You trying to talk me out of it?” “Nope. Just checking.” “Where are we going?” “Oh, no. It’s a surprise,” Marcus chuckled, “But I’ll pick you up at seven?” “Seven,” You nodded. -- Somehow you’d thought you’d be less nervous the closer it got to seven. You couldn’t imagine where Marcus was taking you, and you had spent way too long worrying that what you were going to wear wasn’t going to be nice enough, or would be too nice. You didn’t want to look like you’d tried too hard, or like you hadn’t tried at all.

You’d wound up in one of your favorite dresses, a quilted black leather jacket, and a pair of booties. Depending on what you saw Marcus wearing when he answered the door, you could either ask him to fasten a necklace you were considering (which would dress the outfit up a little more), or leave it. You jumped a little at the sound of your doorbell. You took a deep breath, walking over to the door and opening it. Marcus was standing outside in a plum button down, with a dark tie and a dark blazer. He was not subtle in looking you over, but you didn’t take much note of that. You were too distracted by the bouquet of flowers in his hands. Your brows rose. “First of all, you look beautiful. Second of all, before you worry about sniffling,” He raised a single finger to stop you, “I did some research. These are low-pollen, least likely to cause reactions to people that are allergic: Sunflowers, lilies, roses,” he pointed to one of each. You took in the sight of them, the delicate petals of the white roses and lilies, and the splashes of yellow from the sunflowers, and you felt an odd warmth in your chest - one that you were certain wasn’t the result of an allergic reaction. You reached out, taking them from Marcus and looking down at them. You hesitated, before screwing your face up, taking in two breaths and going, “Ah-- Ah--!” You met Marcus’ eye, quickly adding, “Kidding,” and giving Martcus a wide smile, “They’re beautiful, thank you.” 

Marcus put his hand on his chest, laughing shakily. “Okay, you-- scared the crap out of me, jeez.” “I couldn’t help myself,” You teased, grinning up at him, “And you look gorgeous, too.” “Thank you. Now come on, joker,” He chuckled, taking a step back. You grabbed your purse from where you’d hung it on the coat hook by the door, following Marcus to his car. You reached for the door handle, but heard, “Ah-ah.” You raised a brow, taking a step back as Marcus held the door open for you. “Thank you,” You said. “Of course,” He winked before shutting the door behind you. -- You held the flowers in your lap the entire ride, idly running your fingers over the petals. You really couldn’t understand what Marcus had been fussing about during the stakeout, but you had to admit, you were already feeling… Slightly wooed. Not that you’d tell Marcus that... ...Not that you needed to tell Marcus that, you were pretty sure he could tell. Especially when he parked the car. You were hesitant to put the flowers in the backseat, and he’d chuckled. “They’ll be here when we get back, sweetheart,” He’d teased, “Promise. Go on-- And don’t you dare reach for that door handle.” “Better move fast, I’m pretty quick on the draw.”

“So I’ve seen.” -- Marcus had picked an upscale American Bistro - somewhere neither of you had been before. You’d been a little worried that all you’d have to talk about was work. And work did come up, sure, but it was hardly the only thing that was discussed. The time that you’d spent together on the stakeout had gotten a lot of the awkward first date getting-to-know-you questions out of the way.

-- You found out that there was more to Marcus’ wooing game than a bouquet of flowers and some dinner. After the two of you ate (and he paid, though you’d heavily protested and insisted on paying “next time”; you’d gotten a smile from him that was wider than the Potomac), you went on a walk. Your hands had brushed together a handful of times before Marcus had caught hold of yours. It had been a loose hold at first, giving you a chance to pull your hand away. You’d tightened your grip on Marcus’ hand, and his smile had widened, gentle and generous. -- “Okay, this technically doesn’t count toward the wooing, since you paid,” Marcus argued as the two of you stepped out of an ice cream shop with cups in hand. “Maybe I’m wooing you a little,” You retorted, bumping Marcus’ hip with your own, “Thought we agreed you were past due, too. How’s the blueberry?” “Here,” Marcus held his spoon out to you. You leaned up, taking the offered treat and humming, leaning away and licking your lips. “Good?” “Tasty.” “How’s the cinnamon?” You held your spoon up to Marcus, smiling as he took his time taking a taste. He hummed. “I like blueberry better,” He said honestly. “Figures. Weirdos that prefer pancakes sure do have odd opinions.” “Alright, you’re cute, but you will not get away with insulting pancakes, sweetheart.” “Just saying, I’ve never met a pancake that I’ve liked.” “We should fix that.” “You’re just out to fix every single wrong in my life, huh?” “If you’ll let me.” “I’ve got a wobbly coffee table, you gonna fix that next?” “I’ve got a newspaper in my car that’s a couple of days old, I’m sure we could balance it out.” --

He walked you to your door, too. Dating wasn’t new to you, and what Marcus was doing may’ve been a bunch of… Seemingly little things, but you could feel the difference. “So?” Marcus asked as the two of you neared your front door. You looked up from your bouquet (you were still stunned it hadn’t made you sneeze yet) and raised a brow. “So?” You returned, stopping on your doorstep. “Was I right?” He raised a brow. “...You were not wrong. Wooing is severely underrated… And you’re freaky good at it, dude, I mean-- You should be teaching a course.” Marcus laughed, head ducking bashfully. You smiled, biting your lip a little. “I am glad you enjoyed it. And I appreciated the fact that it wasn’t one-sided,” He peered down at you from under his lashes, stepping a little closer, “Though there is… Typically one more component to wooing.” “Oh? Something you managed to forget or something we just didn’t get to?” 

 “Just didn’t get to,” Marcus backed you up against your door frame, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “And what exactly would that--” You started to tease. You didn’t get to finish asking, which was fine - you kind of already knew the answer, had kinda gotten the hint already, but it kinda didn’t matter. Marcus had been generous all night - with his time, his touches, his smiles, his winks. He was just as generous with kisses. It felt like just a whisper at first - a caress, barely. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes falling closed as Marcus tipped his head to the side, brushing his lips more firmly against yours. You leaned up, chasing the touch, and heard yourself sigh as his lips pressed to yours. You raised a hand from his bouquet, sliding it around the back of his neck. You melted a little as you felt Marcus hum against your lips. You opened your eyes as Marcus leaned away. You licked your lips, tipping your head back against the door frame as Marcus looked down at you with dark, hazy eyes. “Would you, um… Would you like to come inside?” You offered. “Was my wooing that effective, or is this still about your coffee table?” Marcus asked, sliding his hands down your shoulders. “Well, you did leave that old newspaper in the car.” “Oh, I can go grab it,” Marcus offered, taking a step back. “Get back here!” You laughed, gripping him by the collar and drawing him back in for another kiss. 

#Wooed #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike imagine #planning for this to be a oneshot #but that's... always the plan isn't it