#its thieves guild for good guys stop asking

[dunmer-pussy]

Can’t sleep so I’m thinking abt Felvan and Felvos again. They’re a pair of twins who end up falling in with the thieves guild much to the chagrin of Revyn.

Felvan is strange in the regard that he was born with abnormally bright golden eyes that shone iridescent blue. His grandfather, the Nerevarine Llethri Releth, panicked upon first seeing his eyes and their unnatural colors for reasons he refuses to specify. He told the boy’s parents to ensure that his eyes are never visible by anyone under any circumstance, especially by other Dunmer. When pressed he refused to elaborate. It’s believed that he communed with Azura directly and in person for guidance on what to do with the boy’s eyes.

Felvan would often conceal his face under a broad brimmed hat and would wrap his eyes in thin linen — enough for him to see through while still concealing them. This has led to Felvan pretending that he is blind, an act helped by his twin, because that would be easier to explain than mentioning that their grandfather did not want anyone seeing his eyes for some unknown mysterious reason. They’ve also used this to trick people, alongside their general Voros Twins-style stupidity act. How could a blind boy that is also dumb as bricks and his equally as dim counterpart be capable of these genius acts and ploys? Was it sheer chance, coincidence or where these boys smarter than they let on?

They fell into the Thieves’ Guild entirely by accident— they were left unattended in Riften and opted to cause some trouble, which ended in them being offered by Brynjolf to carry out a task for him, promising shiny coin on top of causing some good ol’ unrest, whatever seemed to entice the two more. Whatever happened ended in them thundering through the ratway towards the Flagon laughing and tussling and in general causing a massive ruckus — almost knocking the door off its hinges, startling just about every patron inside. Their chaos was only stopped by Maul booming at them viciously, complete with drawing his weapon — clearly having no qualms with teaching these two young teenagers a lesson or two.

This was only stopped with Samael and Revyn (tailed closely by Teldryn) making their entrance, Revyn visibly tense and trying to conceal his face as much as he could. He had a history with some of these people, after all, and the last time he was ever there alone was the day he left with a promise that if he ever showed his face there again it would be on sight and he would not make it out alive. Teldryn was the one who got Maul to back off only because he got himself between the twins and the mercenary, and used the fact he had a few inches of height on him to his advantage that he basically sized him up in a way that sent a clear message. He wouldn’t win, and teldryn felt that maul was more bark than he was bite.

Samael would round up the now silent and visibly ashamed twins telling them that they have to be more careful with these things, these people. That he’s at least happy they were paid clearly. That Revyn almost had a heart attack over them, knowing where they were and what they were doing. Revyn for one was skulking by the door of the Flagon and tried to make sure he was unnoticed.

Revyn for one was a bit less gentle with the boys, feverishly warning them about just what the Guild is and if they ask him they’re much safer with the Brotherhood than they are here. They’d be eaten alive here. And he did not hesitate to remind them that he was speaking from experience and it’s precisely why he hates riften so much.

I need to develop the twins more but the gist of it is they’re big dumbasses who are also my thieves guild guys and are inseparable to the point where they might as well be attached at the hip. They’re also heteropaternal twins, so they have two different biological fathers (aside from Revyn).

#caydeposting #Felvan Releth #Felvos Sero

[hacknet]

ok so im wondering if like. they tried to make skyrim the exact opposite of oblivion? granted i havent played oblivion in YEARS now but from what i remember anyway:

oblivion is in cyrodiil which is mostly warm weather except up north, and for the most part its a very civilized country where most people live in proper cities or towns and there are well-established roads. when asked to give resources for it, the leaders of each city are united in their goal to stop the daedra invasion. there's a couple awful people but in general the races arent treated much differently. the thieves guild wants to steal from and embarrass the corrupt guards, and never mess with the poor people. the ruins are even pretty intact and well kept looking despite only skeletons living there.

skyrim, on the other hand, is freezing cold and everything looks a little unstable. there are roads but they don't seem much safer than walking through the wilderness. the jarls are unwilling to help with the dragons until the civil war is dealt with. it would be far easier to count the people in skyrim who are not racist than the ones that are. the thieves guild IS the corrupt power structure that SPECIFICALLY fucks over poor people. every ruin in skyrim looks like it should have crumbled to dust 500 years ago

theres probably more but i do not remember the oblivion mages guild quests and never played the fighters guild ones. like....is this on purpose.

making you into whatever you weren't before in these quests? blade to dragonborn. thief with morals to corrupt mafia guy. experienced assassin chosen to be a listener for their skill to listener who doesnt know anything about anything and just happens to be the most special boy in the world

you see where im going with this right. i think they really could have done something with this concept if they tried hard enough (or were trying at all...? still unclear) but a lot of what i would consider important parts of this also have things i would change.....

i think a lot of what made oblivions work is that again it never came out of nowhere when you were given the high ranks in guilds/factions you always had to earn it. like even when you were made the leader it was never like "Well the leaders dead now. you may as well take over even though everyones still rude to you" because i am not kidding that happens 4 TIMES in skyrim. i half expected to be able to kill the jarls and take over for them. let me kill arngeir and take over the greybeards too why not.

actually yeah they should have let me become the world eater after i killed alduin. i slurped his soul like a soup i should be allowed to.

anyway idk. i think the opposites in skyrim/oblivion are neat. the comfortable and occasionally even friendly travelling in cyrodiil vs the constant hostility and violence in skyrim. the people in oblivion only giving their life story when you ask (generally). vs skyrims "I work for belethor at the general goods store" "if you want a handout speak to my husband" "once i save up enough coin im going to buy the inn from hulda" "my name is (bfbdgxgxv) blah blah great clan battle born a name im sure you know well" "this feud with the gray manes is as stupid as the civil war" (<- this one is stupid because a huge part of the feud in the first place literally is the civil war) NOBODY SPEAKS LIKE THIS TO SOMEONE THEY JUST HAPPENED TO WALK BY

#my post #skyrimposting #this is beyond incomprehensible sorry. im sleepy again

[daggerfall]

this is the best goddamn quest objective i’ve gotten in a long time

#m speaks #skyrim #thieves guild #yes its a mod #yes my entire game is basically a mod #its thieves guild for good guys stop asking #screenshots #hall of fame

[flying-nightwing]

Throne of Blood (3/3)

Hello there! Last part of Throne of Blood, I hope you appreciated this little serie! I loved t write it tbh, it was a nice change from the usual DC stuff I write. If you want a bonus chapter, let me know! I thought about doing either a prequel for when they invaded the castle, or some headcanons if y’all have some.

Ps: I realised I kinda made Bruce to be the bad guy here, oops. Sorry about that, but to my defence, family drama was something I built toward from the beginning 😅 Full disclosure, I have nothing against Bruce and Damian pls don’t come at me

Masterlist in bio / pinned!

Pairing: King!Jason x reader x Roy

Word count: 4414

Warnings: same as the last parts (cautious nsfw) + family drama lmao

"--and the might of the casc… cascade could never compare to the ce… cerul… cerulean of her eyes. She was his hope, the only thing he cherished, none of his posse...ssions could ever be worth as much as a minute with her"

You paused to breathe as you reached a paragraph break. You could feel Roy's relaxed stare on you, a small smile ever present on his lips. His hand was absentmindedly rubbing your knees that were lying over his thigh, while his other arm was snugly wrapped around your waist. The quiet crackling of the fireplace indicated the need to add a log, but neither of you wanted to move from your nestled position. Eventually one would have to, though, before the room grew cold. 

"I like it when you read to me" Roy hummed, almost like he hadn't meant to say it out loud. But if you knew one thing about him, it's that he carried very little shame when it came to love. He would never intend to hide his thoughts when they came, and you admired that about him. Still, you couldn't help but look down in embarrassment. 

Him and Jason had taught you to read some months after you joined them, when he passed you a map to find a town's name and you had to tell him you couldn't. Ever since, you worked often on your reading skills, leafing through whatever seemed interesting from Jason's library. But you weren't a natural, far from it. 

"I can't even pronounce all the words correctly" You mumbled. "It must be hard to follow sometimes"

He gently pushed your chin up so he could look into your eyes again. It didn't matter for one second for him that you didn't have the diction of an erudit or the flow of a poet. All he wanted was to hear your voice and watch your eyebrows knit in concentration when you butted on a difficult word. He liked the little things so much better than the finished product.

"I think it sounds perfect"

The corner of your lips rose slightly at his praise as your heart skipped a few beats. Even after all the time you spent together, he always managed to find the right word to make you love him even more, if it was possible. His constant and unconditional support was your crutch, the thing you could rely on no matter what happened, the safe space in which you would never feel judged for what you couldn't do. 

"You know" He began again when he noticed you had trouble believing what he said. You wanted to believe him, but deep inside he knew it was harder for you, and he understood all too well the feeling of not being enough. "I couldn't read either before I was taken in by my warden"

You tilted your head to the side, frowning slightly. You had never known. 

"Took me years to get average at it. And you should have seen my writing-- Hell, you should see it now, it's catastrophic" 

You couldn't help but giggle along as he laughed. It was contagious.

"It's the same with Jason--No wait, the brat actually taught himself how to read somehow" He blinked slowly, like he was still surprised by it. You weren't really, you knew Jason was even smarter than you were aware of. Than anyone was aware of. "But his writing was terrible until he got a proper tutor, that I know of for a fact"

"But his writing is so…" You trailed off, trying to find the right word. "Exquisite"

"Now who's pulling out the big words, uh?"

"Shut up" You laughed, lightly hitting his chest with the book. “Don’t mock me”

“I’m not!” He argued, giving you wide, innocent eyes. He looked too cute for his own sake. “I swear I’m not. You’re just adorable when you get all flustered”

“We better start gearing up now” You evaded the subject, clearing your throat. “Jason will be expecting us--”

“Just one more chapter” He interrupted softly, caressing your waist. “Please?”

You held his stare for a moment before you were convinced, and you nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. You opened the book to the page you had marked and found the paragraph you had stopped to. 

“As he was sitting by the window, he couldn’t help but think about the ar-arrival of the spring, only a few weeks away if nature de...cided to be kind--”

“My Lord, my Lady” 

You paused your reading and looked up. This time, it was Roy who looked the most annoyed of the two of you. 

“It’s time”

You sighed and nodded, putting down the book on the table. Roy was clearly disappointed, but he helped you nevertheless get back on your feet, being careful not to pull on your bandages too much. You were healing well for your condition, you could now walk around and sit down without much help. Still, Roy and Jason didn’t like the idea of leaving you on your own for too long, just in case someone tried to come for you. You definitely couldn’t wield your axes just yet, so it made you an easy target even if you weren’t bed ridden anymore. 

You walked out of the chamber beside Roy, him following your slower pace without complaint. You reached the other end of the hallways and entered another room with chests and racks, where your equipment was kept. You began putting on your suit, the one you had made when you rode beside the Red Hood, well before he was king. It was all black with a red pointed arch on the chest that imitated Jason’s sigil, which was outlined with a single silver following your collarbone. It rose up the back of your neck and was reinforced to protect your vitals. 

“Could you help me pull it up, please?”

Roy nodded as he finished to lace his arm braces, stepping right behind you. He picked the stiff fabric and gently tugged it over your shoulder, brushing his fingers against your skin along the way. He was even more careful with your injured shoulder, making sure it wasn’t bent in any way to fit through the suit. He and Jason had advised against you wearing it, but you were stubborn and refused to show weakness in front of the enemy. Besides, it looked great on you. Roy then buttoned up the suit on your back and up your neck before giving you a kiss on the temple. 

“Close your eyes, I’ve got a little something for you” He whispered in your eyes, and despite your initial confusion, you did as you were told and shut your eyes. You felt something being passed over your head and gently rest on your shoulders, then straps being adjusted on your sides. “You can open the now”

You did as he said and looked down as he gently directed you to the mirror on your left. He had placed a beautiful piece of equipment that paired well with the colors of your suit, lightweight and practical, that covered your shoulders front and back. You usually went without, but it was appropriate considering another arrow in the back would do you no good right now. And since you most probably wouldn’t be using your axes anyway, you could do without your full shoulder movements range. 

“Where did you get this?” You asked as you trailed your finger on the skillfully crafted metal. There was no doubt it had been made for you by how it fit with both your body and suit. It must have cost a fortune.

“The blacksmith in town, the one living near the gates of the castle” He began. “His son was killed by the guild of thieves that lived uptown, the ones we wiped off right after the undertaking. He wanted to thank us somehow, and when he learned about what happened to you, he made this as a present”

“It’s… Very beautiful” You breathed out. “I’ll have to thank him later on. This must have taken so much time to make”

“But you deserve it” He said as he placed a light kiss on your jaw. “You deserve the best. And the best suits you”

“Thank you” You nodded, taking his hand. The leather of his archery glove was rough against your skin, but it had also become a comfort born from the endless days you spent training and hunting on the road. It was tied to some of your best memories with him, and it still amazed you how a simple touch could bring it all back vividly like that. “Come on, Jason must be waiting for us”

You went down to the court, where Jason was talking with the commander and some generals. Upon hearing your footsteps, he perked up and turned around, taking you specifically in. He smiled and nodded, heading for the three black steeds, groomed and in full armor, in the hands of the stable hands. You followed him and grabbed the reins of your mount, carefully climbing on its back and sitting in the saddle.

“Are we ready?” Jason asked.

“Of course” Roy replied first, then both of their eyes set on you.

“Let’s do this” You nodded firmly.

With a kick of your heels, you took off the court and onto the bridge, in the direction of the Wayne Kingdom.

---

“Soooooo…” Roy trailed off. “Do you think he stood us up or..?”

You looked away from the horizon and to Roy, who was slouched over the pommel of the saddle while his horse was trying to dig for grass through the snow. “Maybe he’s trying to ambush us”

“I don’t think so” Jason mumbled, his eyes still set northwest. His back was straight with a hand resting on his hips, the other holding the reins tight. His horse was attentive, chewing on its bit in anticipation. “It wouldn’t be like him, not while we’re on this hill anyway” 

You nodded as your fingers flexed around the reins, a bit bored and definitely not impressed by the opposite party being late to their own meeting. There was barely any wind over the field, and the thick cover of the cloud didn’t let the sun rays through. Still, smoke came out of the horses’ nostrils with every breath they let out. 

“There they come”

You glanced forward again at Jason’s warning, seeing a small party of riders coming your way. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry, walking rather than trying to reach you at a trot. The closer they came, the better you could point out characteristics for each rider. The one at the front was wearing all black with a cape that fell over the pale gray horse he was riding. It was almost white, but the dark skin around its eyes and nose proved differently. The second rider was on a smaller chestnut horse, and was a child. You blinked a few times, but his youthful features were obvious. The two other riders some paces behind were an escort, soldiers with steel armors and banners from their kingdom. 

After a long waiting for them to actually be at hearing range, they finally stopped a few meters ahead and assessed your party. Jason was visibly tense, but his blue eyes gave nothing out on how he was feeling about seeing his father in front of him after all this time. They stared at each other for long minutes before the piercing glance of Bruce Wayne set on you. You clenched your jaw, not backing down, until his eyes finally left you. 

“Your… Friend seems to have healed quite well” The older king spoke first.

“Don’t act like you give a fuck” Jason sneered. “You were the one who made this coward attack on her happen in the first place”

“Watch your mouth, runt” The child on the side almost barked. “You’re speaking to a legitimate King, unlike you”

“And who the fuck might this goblin be?” Roy said before he could stop himself. While the child looked appalled, Roy was still very relaxed on his horse. He might have been the only one to be, even if you did want to laugh at the outburst.

“I am the blood son, the true heir to the throne” He replied with all his might, except it didn’t quite have the desired effect, since he was on a pony, for one. “You peasant will respect me, or--”

“Damian, please” Bruce interrupted firmly. “Now is not the time to settle this”

“But--”

“Why am I not surprised that you fathered a brat?” Jason leaned forward, feeling taunting for a moment. “Which one of your concubines had enough bad luck to get pregnant? Selina? Or was it Richard’s lover, whatever was her name? Or maybe Talia, oh memorable Talia--”

“Don’t speak of my mother that way” Damian pulled his sword out. 

“So Talia it is” He smirked. 

“We are here to negotiate peace, not fuel a war” Bruce replied sternly. “I can do much worse than an arrow in the shoulder of a loved one, you know it. So be careful what you’re advancing about my family”

“Then keep your son on a tighter leash” Jason said, his face returning to a serious expression. “I still haven’t made my mind about keeping peace, don’t give me reasons to leave this meeting before we can discuss it”

“I should be telling you this” He squinted his eyes slightly. “You have thrown over a stable ally of this kingdom and stole the crown, then taken prisoner the King of Blüdhaven without giving a follow up on his state. You are in no place to threaten a war, yet here you are”

Jason waited a few seconds, not letting his stare waver. Then, he sighed and whistled. The plains were silent, until the faint sound of hooves cantering on the crisp snow grew closer to your position. Soon enough, you were passed on your left by another rider, slowly walking around you and toward Bruce’s party. Dick had a neutral expression as he turned around, stopping at Bruce’s side.

“Here” Jason waved his hand dismissively. “Your golden son, unharmed albeit slightly vexed”

“You should still pay for a crime like this” Bruce said.

“It’s fine” Dick tried to appease the tensions. “I do not wish to further this conflict, I have done enough already as it is”

“Why didn’t you fight back, Richard?” Damian asked in a judging and accusatory tone. “This is a disgrace to our family, and a display of weakness--”

“I was trying to avoid a much worse escalation of this conflict by owning a diplomatic mistake I made in the first place” He bit back. “What would you even know of politics, spoiled child?”

Roy laughed, and the sound only seemed to anger Damian more. You were in the middle of a family conflict, and unlike him, you didn’t know this side of the family well. You didn’t really know how to act, so you observed what would go down rather than actively participate. 

“I find the ginger man’s insolence unwelcomed in this matter” Damian said, trying to wash down the humiliation his brother had just handed to him. “He’s got nothing to do with it, and he’s got no title. He shouldn’t even be speaking”

“He speaks because I say he can” Jason defended Roy in a heartbeat, his tone strong and authoritative. “As far as I’m concerned, I’ve got a crown and you don’t, which puts me above you in status and therefore my wishes outweigh yours”

Your eyebrow rose slowly as your eyes met Roy’s, who had an equally stunned expression. Jason had never used his status against anyone like that. It even seemed to take Damian by surprise, which was, with what you had learned about him in the last minutes, a hard feat to accomplish. If you were honest with yourself, while you loved Jason as a humble king, you were curious about the other side of him, even if he would show it in private.

“Your crown was stolen” Bruce reassessed. “The Kingdoms surrounding yours have decided this gesture would not stand. I wished a peaceful surrender from you, but it doesn’t seem like I will convince you to do so. You have three days to abdicate, until the next full moon, or your kingdom will be taken back by force”

“You think this is wise?” You finally spoke up on instinct, and all eyes turned to you, looking at you with surprise. You weren’t about to let those threats stand, especially not from Bruce. “Ever since King Jason came into power, he wiped out a guild that stole from families and murdered good people. Our kingdom is the safest for miles around, so much we get waves of new settlers even in winter. He lowered taxes on the population so much that most towns in the country have become flourishing trade posts in the span of a year, and instead taxed the nobility and cut on useless balls and dinners. Nobody starved last winter, and nobody is starving this one. Do you think the word didn’t get out to the other countries around? People are starting to want this for themselves too, and you think putting them through a devastating war will make things better? It will only make them resent you, those who didn’t already. We have people in every castle you know of who are ready to turn against you the second they get wind of aggression--”

“Bullshit” Damian called.

“Are you ready to take the risk?” You raised an eyebrow at him, before returning your glance to Bruce, who betrayed no emotion. “You will lose this war if you start it. You should consider your people before you send them to slaughter”

Silence fell over the hill for a moment.

“... What she said” Roy grinned, breaking the silence.

Bruce looked at Jason for a reaction, or most likely, some sort of opposition to what you had just said. Instead, he only readjusted his reins and straightened his back. “You heard right,” He said, not wavering. “You have three days, until the next moon, to annulate the warrants and back down. Think about your people, Bruce. Make the right decision”

With that mocking reprise of his father’s previous words, he turned his horse around and left him dumbfounded. With one last glance to their party, you followed Jason, trotting, then cantering away and back into your borders. Once you passed your soldiers’ road control, you slowed down to a walk.

“Huh” Roy exhaled as he leaned forward to glance at you over Jason’s horse between you two. “I didn’t know we had spies in other kingdoms”

“Now that I think about it,” Jason blinked a few times, his brows slightly furrowed. “Neither did I”

You shrugged. “Maybe we have them. That would be neat” 

You saw confusion, then astonishment flash in their eyes like their reactions were synchronized.

“Wait, did you just--”

“Did you fucking lie to Bruce in his face?” Roy cut off, almost yelling. Then, he laughed. “In his face?”

“By the time he realizes, no, if he even realizes I bluffed, we’ll have a solid plan to ward him off, no matter what he does” You explained. “We win”

“How did you manage to convince him?” Jason had an innocent incomprehension written all over his features, like a child in front of a magic trick. He was adorable. “You had me convinced”

“Oh, boys” You grinned. “You think women survive this long in the world without becoming excellent liars? How do you think I managed to infiltrate the staff for a week before we invaded the castle?”

“By… Um” Roy trailed off. “Cleaning well?”

You laughed. “People had questions, my dear. I had to build myself a credible life to feed them, so I wasn’t thrown out of the castle instantly. Lying to the enemy is a skill I learned to cultivate a long time ago”

“You’re awesome, you know that?” He sighed, a loopy smile on his face. Jason still had a starstruck expression on his face, his eyes sparkling with admiration.

“Wouldn’t hurt to hear it again, I must admit” You teased back, jutting your chin up. “But there is one thing that would be better… Last one in the bedroom owes the first one a shoulder massage”

You didn’t wait for them to register your words before kicking your horse to a gallop, no doubt closely followed by them.

---

The dancing light of the candles of the chandelier left a soft glow on your naked skin, moving around and spreading warmth as it crawled up and down your body. You were sitting upright as hands moved gently on your shoulders, careful to avoid the sensitive area of your still healing wound. In your laps was Jason’s head, your hands threading slowly in his black hair as his eyes were shut close. He wasn’t sleeping, his breathing made his chest rise too fast for him to be. But he was relaxed, his neck muscles were untensed on your legs and there were no harsh lines on his face. 

You looked behind you when Roy’s hand stopped massaging, pulling your hair to the side and kissing the back of your neck. 

“You really gotta get a faster horse” Your lips curved upwards. “You’re always losing these races”

“I think my horse’s speed is just fine” He whispered back. “Besides, you are both right where I want you to be”

Jason smirked. “Losing is always suddenly part of someone’s plan when they never win”

“Laugh all you want” He sighed, dramatically laying down on his side beside you, then leaning forward close to Jason’s ear. “We all know I end up winning anyway when you beg my name like a prayer, My King”

You could feel the shiver travel up his spine on your laps, as well as the sudden shift in the tension in his muscles. You played along and let your hand slightly pull his hair, which surprised a moan out of him. His eyes opened wide, the blue of his irises being quickly consummated by the black of his pupils. Then, his glance set on Roy, something hard to read beside the promising spark in it.

“Are you sure you’re ready for a, what, fourth go at it today?” He raised an eyebrow as his hand brushed his cheek. “I didn’t think you jaw recovered from earlier”

You laughed airily as Roy grinned mischievously. “Maybe you can take that voice when you put that brat child in its place” You suggested as you trailed up your hand up Jason’s bare chest. “I’m sure he would be happy to get back on his knees if you did”

Roy groaned at the suggestion, already imagining the whole scene behind his fluttering eyelids. However, Jason didn’t quite follow up on his reaction. “Don’t tempt me with…” He trailed off, then noticed the mood change. “Hey, is there something wrong?”

Jason blinked, then shook his head and gave a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “I’m fine” He muttered, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Roy’s lips. 

“No, something’s bothering you” He insisted gently. “What is it, Jay?”

Jason sighed, shaking his head. “It’s nothing” He replied, looking up to the ceiling. “Don’t worry about it”

“It’s clearly not nothing” You said as your hands threaded softly in his hair. “What’s eating at you?”

A silence followed your words. It was like Jason was searching for the right words, like he wanted to say it so bad but something else was holding him back. You were patient, however, and you didn’t mind that he took his time to tell you. You knew he would talk when he’s ready.

“It’s what Bruce said” Roy beat him to it, speaking barely over a whisper. “Isn’t it?”

You looked in between the two men, noticing how Jason did not deny Roy’s words. It was like they were having a silent conversation for a few seconds, before Roy put a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s how he didn’t see him as part of his family anymore” Roy spoke up, addressing you this time. “How Bruce didn’t seem to have any regret about replacing him in any way possible”

“Even after all this time” Jason gulped. “He won’t even stop reminding me he didn't care”

“Oh, my love” You reached for his hand and grabbed it, intertwining your fingers with his and giving it a squeeze. “He doesn’t deserve you beating yourself up about him like that. You’re worth so much more than anything he could even give you”

“She’s right,” Roy nodded. “We’re your family now, not him. Not him ever again. And I promise you we’ll never betray you that way, we’ll never set you aside. You’re our lover, you’re our King, you’re the most important person for us, and we would do anything for you”

You could see the crystal gleam of tears pooling in his eyes before he blinked them away, resisting the urge to break down. Jason had not often known true affection until he met Roy, then you. He felt like he didn’t deserve either of you, and sometimes he wondered why exactly you decided everyday to stay by his side. But you did stay, you did support him and guided him when he needed it. He wouldn’t have been anywhere near where he was right now without you. 

“You’re both so good to me” He whispered, adoration clear in his voice as he glanced at you, then Roy. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d be wonderful either way” You smiled as you slipped beside him, careful not to pull on your bandages. Soon enough, Roy joined him on the other side, snuggling into him. “You’d miss on major cuddling, however”

His chest rose in a silent chuckle as he pulled you and Roy just a little bit closer. “Give yourselves more credit, I’d crash and burn without you both by my side”

“Let’s not bother with what ifs, yeah?” Roy replied, his lips curved upward as he kissed his shoulder. “It only matters that you’re here with us today, and that you are a damn good King. The rest doesn’t matter”

“The rest doesn’t matter” Jason repeated in a mutter, nodding lightly. “Only you. Only us” 

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader x roy harper #roy harper x reader #roy harper #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #jason todd x you #red hood x you #outlaws #roy harper imagine #arsenal #arsenal imagine #arsenal x reader #roy harper x you #outlaws imagine

[goineedsleep]

i am cursed, and also delusional

i got sick recently(not covid, i am a fully vaccinated bitch), so i'm writing this on caffeine and pain

i hope you enjoy the shitshow

-trials of octopath is todays awful fusion idea

-for those of you unaware of trials of manas existence, it's a lot like octopath(and vice versa). trials is a game where you pick 3 characters out of 6 possible options to play as, and the story changes drastically depending on who's in your party. im' gonna have to cut a couple of the octopaths to fit this AU, but i'll be putting them elsewhere- you'll see them eventually

-i'm not even getting into story pairs! every two characters in trials of mana has the same final boss. if you put two characters together who have the same story(say, the fighter/duran or the mage/angela), it gives more information on those characters and their shared story.

-we have olberic the fighter(replacing duran) first. after an invasion of his home, he trusts erhardt with protecting it while he chases after the perpetrator

-then there's cyrus the mage(replacing angela)- he is the prestiged son of a famed scholar. he cannot use the same powerful magic his father could, and thus is chosen to be executed by him. cyrus unleashes enough magical power to teleport out of that situation(this happens in-game), and runs away to seek guidance from the Archbishop of the Church of the Sacred Flame.

-now we have therion the thief. he is a close friend of the leader of the Thieves Guild of the Ravuses, a man known as Heathcote. Darius, an "old friend " of his, saved Heathcotes life from being missing. this results in Heathcote acting very weird from the day he returns- at least, if you ask therion. Heathcote has never expressed the want to start a nation and invade another country until now! he gets help from Heathcotes son, the doctor of their group, to find out what's going on with Heathcote. It turns out... that Darius is using mind control to manipulate Heathcote to follow his bidding. man come on therion was just starting to not punch you in the face every night just when you were about to fall asleep again

-Darius uses dark magic to seal Alfyn away to another realm, and frames Therion for the kidnapping. Therion can't tell the truth about the situation either or kill Darius- Cordelia, Alfyns little sister, will die as well if he even dares due to a cursed article of clothing given to her by Darius.

-luckily for him, Tressa has mercy on him a couple months later and breaks him out of jail. therion decides to investigate the curse in order to find out how to stab Darius in the most affective way imaginable. Also to save Cordelia, but that isn't his priority at the moment

-now we have the warrior princess Primrose

-she's the captain of the woman-led guard of the country of Azelhart

-her mother died during childbirth whilst giving birth to her little sister tressa, and so she decided to take care of her to the best of her ability. her father is very proud of her for taking charge like this, but he still is the parent in this version. he is the one that technically raised tressa since I do not want to force primrose to parent someone when she's like 6

-primrose was just a dedicated babysitter

-she wants tressa to practice her dancing, and when she finds her she's being held at knifepoint by 2 thieves. the barrier protecting Azelhart from enemy forces is broken, tressa is kidnapped, and -Azelhart is no more. Now Primrose is no princess or noble- she's just Primrose

-She goes to the Priest of Light so she can pray for forgiveness from Aelfric before she kills all of the Ravus thieves guild

-H'aanit is the princess of the werewolves. they've been oppressed and marginalized by humans for years, so they've taken up the forest as their home. she's a hunter like most of them are, yet she's never been able to harness the power of her bloodline: it may be due to her being half-human, but she's never been capable of transforming into a beast like her brethren.

-she meets the snow leopard Linde in front of her dead mothers corpse, and starts feeding it

-she has a new pet now -linde and herself work together and they sometimes do better than full-blooded werewolves when they work together

-Z'aanta forms an alliance with Mattias, a man who's worked with the Church of the Sacred Flame a million times -immediately following the forming of this alliance Linde attempts to kill H'aanit -H'aanit doesn't wish to hurt her friend, but she has no choice: she turns into a werewolf for the first time in her life and loses control of her thoughts in her despair

-oh welp the cat's dead(I'M SO SORRY LINDE YOU ARE A VERY GOOD KITTY) -H'aanit heads back home to cry for a minute... then she overhears Mattias admitting that he killed her cat -H'aanit attempts to attack him, and then gets yeeted to Jadd -good job ham, you complete and utter pokemon trainer

-last up, we've got ophilia -she's the adoptive daughter of the Archbishop of the Sacred Flame -she hears Lianna's gonna be going somewhere, she gets an awful vision of Lianna never being seen again following this mission, and goes with her in secret -Lianna gets kidnapped regardless by Mattias -so ophilia decides to find this guy and punch him in the face

-alright that's all of the character backstories

-THANK GOD

-all of these people(save alfyn and tressa, who is being held hostage by the ravus thieves guild) go to jadd first- h'aanit is yeeted there by mattias

-h'aanit notices that her people are invading this town and will be invading Flamesgrace- her next goal is to stop this -olberic wants to stop this as well, so he and h'aanit team up first

-Primrose looks for Tressa in some desperate search, and meets Cyrus during this search. they decide to journey together to Wendel, figuring going together would be better than being alone -they think it's a dumb idea to fight the beastmen, so they decide to escape at night like the bartender suggested

-ophilia finds therion at the bar while looking for food, and overhears his story while she eats soup and bread -she leads him to Wendel, wanting to do help another adventurer before she goes off into the unknown herself

-olberic and h'aanit free the town from beastmen and go to the cavern that leads to flamesgrace(which i am going to keep calling Wendel on accident because that's what it is in trials, srry) -they get there and there's a barrier -archbishop put it up to protect them from the beastmen, and then h'aanit and olberic find the lakeside town of astoria -the villagers keep mentioning how a divine light has started appearing in the area, and olberic shrugs it off and takes a very long nap. the poor man is very tired -ophilia and therion head there as well and follow the light to where it falls- ophilia touches this flame and has to fight a giant robot w/ therion -they win, and ophilia doesn't see it anymore -she shrugs and heads back to astoria, where beastmen have wrecked the town. it is g o n e -ophilia holds a memorial service for them, where she tells therion about how she's a cleric of the Sacred Flame -therion shrugs and suggests they keep going. they don't have much time before it's day and the beastmen attempt to attack Flamesgrace, too

-h'aanit, olberic, cyrus and primrose are having a picnic at the barrier when ophilia and therion arrive -ophilia attempts charging into the barrier, and then it sets on fire and they can all go through -after a long and awkward icebreaker, they all decide to travel together. it's pretty dangerous out there anyways, with the beastmen attacking and atlasdams rumored invasion of Hornburg. the ravus nation is also a major worry, therion reminds them, but they arent' gonna be in the area for a while

-these guys make it to flamesgrace to receive advice on what's coming next -olberic is told to become stronger before challenging atlasdam, and not to do so alone. he continues being in the group due to this -cyrus is told to learn how to understand his emotions- magic is not the forms they teach at school, but rather what comes from the heart. he decides to accompany the travelers so he can escape imprisonment by atlasdam forces -therion first learns of how the dimension Alfyn's been tossed into is inaccessible by humans. it is the birthplace of galdera, and is a realm of which sinners reside after they've lived their lives. Alfyn is probably not going to last very long in this realm- he's as good as dead -therion is then told of how ancient and deadly of a magic the cursed choker is, and that darius is not human. what he is is a mystery, and to save cordelia he must find the sword of aelfric. he cannot save alfyn, so he may as well save his sister -primrose is advised to find her sister and that if she chooses to destroy the ravus nation, aelfric will not support her actions, though they are understandable. if she finds the Sword of Aelfric, she may gain the power she needs to destroy the Ravus nation. -h'aanit is told that Linde will live on through her, and that Mattias is a warlock of Galderas. he has been rejected by the Order of the Sacred Flame as a result, though he does lie very affectively. to save the Kingdom of S'warkii, she must take down Mattias. and since mattias is going after the Sword of Aelfric she may as well accompany Ophilia and make Mattias's efforts worth nothing at all -ophilia is told to find Lianna, since she has been chosen by the Ember. she is now the only person who can rise the Sword of Aelfric from its resting place

-the Sword of Aelfric is hidden within the Sanctuary of Aelfric, which needs an insane amount of power to be opened. normally this power can be leached from the Aelfric Stones, but doing so could let loose ancient and terrible demons. therefore, the 8 gods that reside next to these stones need to be called upon in order to open the portal to the Sanctuary. -Therion suggests going after Aelfric first, since he's the closest one to them. after that, they need to find someone who knows where the rest of them are and also how to get there -they all agree that it's a good plan, but cyrus brings up that the Aelfric Stones each belong to a specific nation or people. going there and borrowing the gods power would be going after large civilizations that have grown around these stones -olberic suggests that they plan this out later, when they have more information and time -they all agree and go ahead to find the first of 8 gods

#trials of mana #octopath traveler #olberus #will happen eventually trust me #i am trash like that

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight - Prologue: Before

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC, Din Djarin x OFC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Explicit Language, Trauma

Words: 2000

Summary: What's past is prologue.

There's a new trend since the fall of the Empire, everyone is rising from the dead.

She's haunted by memories of the Empire that abandoned her, he's plagued with thoughts of what if and doubts of the future. The stars align in a string of constellations which guide them to their fates, decided long before them. 

Tortured with echos of before, they're alone in an endless galaxy. But orphans have a funny way of finding each other, and the gods have a sick sense of humor.

Read on AO3 Here

Tatooine was the galaxy’s own personal hell, Mustafar at least had the pleasure of fauna. Demonic nightmarish fauna that was more than likely poisonous, but fauna nonetheless. Tatooine? Tatooine was a barren wasteland that had gone to the dogs, and even the dogs had decided they wanted no part in its misfortune. At least on Mustafar she could go inside and be relieved of the heat, at least Mustafar could be considered home. 

Or at least it used to be, before.

“Maker,” An assassin mutters, crossing over a sand dune. The red tracking fob in her gloved hand sounds, it’s light flashing a similar color. To her relief, she was close. The sooner to the target, the sooner she could leave and never set foot on sand again. 

She could count the total number of visits to Tatooine in her lifetime on one hand. The first she couldn’t have been more than fourteen, then again at an older age to meet with the Hutts. Nine years ago, her father had sent her on a reconnaissance mission to some abandoned moisture farm. It had been terribly boring, full of memories of family dinners and old beaten up droids.

The irony that that very mission essentially caused her to lose everything wasn’t lost on her.

Five years ago she sat in the very cantina she walks to, warned to run away. A mere twenty-one years old—give or take, her birthday after all was a random day chosen by her and the waking sun. There was no telling her true age, so with her knowledge of human anatomy and development, nine years ago she decided on being seventeen.

“Why seventeen?” He asks her. Entering hyperspace she sits behind him, tracing passing stars on the window.

“Because,” she begins matter-of-factly, “Seventeen is a completely insignificant year to be alive. Sixteen is old enough that I won’t be questioned for traveling alone, but still too young to be taken seriously. I’m not quite ready to be an adult yet, but next cycle I will be. So I am seventeen now, so that I may be prepared to be eighteen later.”

Eighteen hours later, the first Death Star exploded. 

The events which follow guide her on a fragile string of stars throughout the galaxy, the culmination of which lead her back to hell. Or Tatooine, as the New Republic liked to call it.

Maybe if she had listened things would have been different.

Or maybe they would be worse.

Either way she would be here. The designer of her cruel fate and dictator of her misery have decided this long ago. Forever would she be trapped in hell with her memories.

And everyone else’s.

Condemned to relive the worst of what humanity had to offer, over, and over, and over again. It wasn’t so bad anymore, it’s easy to get numb to that sort of thing when your entire life was filled with it. Still, out of all the places in the galaxy, why did it have to be Tatooine?

She could understand the appeal for those on the run. Away from the New Republic’s oversight, moisture farms as the only viable landmark, and everyone being too overworked to give a damn. Theoretically it should have been easy to hide, the only issue was every criminal in the Outer Rim had the same idea. Originality be damned.

A detached hood and mask shield her identity, not that she believed anything with a penchant of life would be anywhere near. All that surrounded her was sand, rocks, and sand. Still, she could never be overly cautious. Walking up to the cantina, her eyes roll. It was like they wanted to make her job difficult. She could only assume the bar would be crawling with other criminals. Defected imperials, thieves, murderers.

It could have been a family reunion.

Eyes fall on her entrance, the suns backlight her into a silhouette. She becomes the one cascade of darkness in the light of the desert. 

“Boys,” she greets, walking in. Her eyes scan the room, there couldn’t be more than ten men. She counts the passing of ten seconds before one approaches her. Within those seconds her mind remarks on the state of the bar, essentially unchanged. Same busted chairs, same creaking floors, same hideous decorations. 

“What’s someone like you doing here?” a man grunts, stalking up to her. The most she does to acknowledge him is an eye roll. He grabs her arm, holding her in place. “Does your daddy know you’re out here?” he asks, leaning down to her ear.

She mocks a laugh. “Does yours?”

The man spits at her boots. “Bitch,” he says, walking away from her. His spit slowly rolls off her toe, leaving a glimmering streak along the leather in its wake. She pulls her blaster out, pointing the gun behind her, she shoots the man in the back of the head. He drops, his body heavy with a thud. 

The cantina falls to silence. Nine bodies are now watching her. No one makes a move, even the bartender stops his clinking glasses. She’s almost inviting them to try her next.

“No?” She asks, holstering her gun. “Pity,” she mutters. 

She walks up to body number seven, he sits in the same spot she had all those years ago. She places her soiled boot on his seat, grabbing his attention. Motioning for him to stand, she barely makes eye contact.

 Her fingers run across the tables’ wood, rubbing over permanent stains and rotting cracks.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he says. He always worried too much about her, “Whatever he’s planning, you won’t come out of it.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore,” she says. “I can take care of myself now.”

“I know. That’s what scares me. You’re not safe anymore,” he replies.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been safe.”

Seven stares at her incredulously, slurping his liquor.

“Come with me,” his voice echos around her. If she closes her eyes it’s like he’s still sitting in front of her. Pleading.

“I don’t like making messes inside, it’s bad manners,” she says, reaching for her blaster. “Get up.” 

“Am I supposed to be scared, girl?” Seven asks. He scans her appearance and truth be told she was no Rancor, certainly no Hutt. While her build was athletic, her height physically left her the smallest in the room.

“You owe a lot of credits—” Seven stands, “—That’s better.” She drops her foot. “Now—“

“Step aside,” a modulated voice speaks behind her. She catches a reflection of the intruder in the glass of the framed artwork above Seven’s head. A Mandalorian, covered in pure Beskar, stands a whole head above her. Of course a fucking Mandalorian would show up right now, this had to be his doing. Even in the grave he had to fuck with her.

“Mando,” Seven laughs, he wipes his sweaty palms on his trousers. “I was uh, I was just talking to the missus here,” he grabs the girls shoulder. “Say, now’s not really a good time so how about we—“ 

“I don’t have time for this,” the Mandalorian says. He drops a bounty puck on the table, in blue holograms Seven’s profile appears.

WANTED: EDI MOURI 

“Let’s go,” Mando says.

The girl shakes herself from Seven. “Listen Shiny, I was here first so move along.” The Mandalorian’s head tilts.

“Are you with the guild?” He asks.

She picks up the bounty puck, examining the emblem. “Not yours.”

Mando’s head turns to One’s fallen body on the ground, a growing pool of blood by his head. 

“Your work?”

“You could say that.”

Seven clears his throat. Whispers of bets trail within the crowd. “In fairness. She did find me first.”

The pair are incredulous in their stare. “You want to go with the assassin?” Mando asks, a slight twinge of amusement escapes past his modulator.

Seven’s face turns to ice, his deep emerald skin becoming a pastel like hue. “On second thought. I always loved the Mandalorian stories I heard as a kid, I’m a big fan. Let’s go big guy.” He takes a step towards Mando, the assassin pulls out her blaster, pointing it to his head. At the same moment Mando pulls out his own, pointing it to her.

“Drop it,” he says. “I need him alive.”

She cocks her head to the side, pressing her forehead against the barrel of the gun. “Do it,” she purrs. 

He’s motionless.

She grabs the Mandalorian’s wrist with one hand, striking the bend in his arm with the other. A blaster shot fires, Three falls to the ground with a hole in his head. 

Mando lifts her by her neck and slams her into the table where Seven sits. Her vision flashes white and she groans on impact. Her hands fumble across the wood in frantic search of anything to defend herself with.

“Wait for me, I’ll come for you in two days.”

She smashes Seven’s plate against the table, shattering it. With a jagged edge of porcelain she slashes the Mandalorian’s arm, staining the edge with his red blood. In his stumble back she rolls off the table.

Harsh stabs are swung to the openings between the pieces of armor, he easily blocks but her movements are quick in succession. He ignites the flamethrower on his arm and she flips out of range.

Six isn’t so lucky.

She lands on his table, he’s charred and slumped over. She grabs a baton resting against his chair, cringing at its touch. Jumping of the table she strikes his helmet. The tune of impact horrifically melodic. 

Brought to his knees, Mando grabs her leg sweeping her onto her back. The baton falls out of her grasp. They tumble on the ground, scathing for any advantage they could find on the other. She slaps a taser disk on his armor, the shocks malfunction the electronics.

The Mandalorian lays on the ground, emitting heavy gasps for air. Sounds of passing credits come from a back table. She straddles him, pulling out the knife kept in the welt of her sleeve. It’s metal presses against his capes fabric gathered around his neck.

A smile twinges under her mask. “Not bad,” she pants, leaning down over him.

The cantina doors automate open, in perfect eye-line, a green little creature. It waddles in, cooing with bright eyes at the patrons, greeting them all. It locks eyes with her, head tilted. The veil of her mask conceals her dropped jaw. 

The Mandalorian takes the chance of her distraction; flipping their bodies over, he straddles her waist, pinning her hands above her head. The assassin’s chest rises and falls heavy from under him. “I told you to wait outside,” he grunts. The green thing coos, waddling to the pair. It reaches out for her. “No,” he says next, raising a scolding finger to it. It whines, plopping on its rear. 

Past the visor, his eyes lock onto hers, he clears his throat. Suggestive positioning aside, he had claim to victory. Though, had it not been for the child he would have been a dead man, throat slit under her knife. 

He could still kill her, his blaster was in reach, so was her knife. 

He should kill her.

But he doesn’t.

“Hey Mandalorian,” she breathes. “Where’s your bounty?” Seven’s seat empty, table broken, shattered porcelain fallen on the floor.

“Fuck,” he swears. He stands, pocketing the knife she held. He picks up the creature, sparing her one last glance. “Stay out of my way,” he warns. Exiting the building she’s left on the floor. 

The surviving witnesses avoid her glare. There are holes in the flooring, broken furniture, blood stains splattered on every surface.

So much for not making a mess indoors.

She scoffs, picking herself up. Her muscles ache, bruises are forming under her clothing, her head pounds.

Carelessly, she shoots Five on her way out.

It’s a redemption of sorts.

Officially, Tatooine was worse than hell.

Chapter One: The Meeting

#Mandalorian #the mandalorian #Din Djarin #din djarin x original character #din djarin x original female character #din djarin x oc #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x reader #Starlight #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x oc #mando x ofc #mando x original character #mando x original female character #din djarin x female oc

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Young Gods (Mandalorian AU)

Pairing: Sin!Din (or OOC just in case) x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (m &f), Fingering, Light choking, Daddy kink, Thigh riding, Rough sex, Soft sex, Use of a safeword, Drug/Alcohol use, Violence, Guns/blood, Mentions of death, Mentions of police (not heavy), Language, Fluff, Barely there angst. (if I’m missing any I apologize)

Word Count: 12K+

Summary: Taken in by the Guild in the rough part of the city, you quickly meet Din Djarin, the best of the best. Who knew of the path it would lead you to?

A/N: The warnings did change from the preview, that’s always a given. I was going to make this fic a little darker but got carried away with it, but I’m willing to write oneshots off this because I simply love it. Also HUGE thanks to @ben-is-a-hoe​ for their unwavering patience for their request, you rock

***

You never knew your parents. Your biological ones, anyway. 

Lila and Billy took you in at a young age, raised and treated you as their own. Life was good with them, and they were amazing parents; you loved them, always had a good relationship with them but you just… fell into the wrong crowd. 

It didn’t take long for the fallout. The screaming matches when you came back home in the middle of the night, sometimes in cuffs or other times wasted with the new necklace you managed to snag. They kicked you out when it became too much and really, you don’t blame them. Not at all. 

From then on you jumped from group to group, big and small, did the jobs, and left. You never stayed, not for long, no matter what; they could never hold you down. 

So when Greef Karga found you pocketing the screamers and betters of cage matches down in Sorgan and asked you to join his Guild, you said yes on the spot.   

Bounty hunters. Mercenaries. Thieves. 

Call them what you like, they just got the job done. With good pay.

They reside in one of the most dangerous parts of the city, hidden in the shadows of the deep underground, in a warehouse that’s not too noticeable or colorful. Nervarro is pleasing to the eye day and night, if you turn away from the horrors that coincide within. That’s the trick, how it drags you into its claws.

That’s how you’re about to meet ‘Target Practice’ Din Djarin, infamous for his name from a well known joke after a job well done. 

“Tell them, tell them what you said after the state of that guy.”

“Tell them how you always get the job done.”

“Tell them the joke man.”

“What’d you say? To that guy right before…”

“Target practice.”

Though he doesn’t have a big name (yet), word still travels around about the Guild’s best bounty hunter, rarely seen without the signature leather jacket that signifies the kind of group you’re in; his signet is printed proud and big on the back of it. 

“Yeah Din Djarin, you know, the guy who fucked up Ran’s group. Took them all out like it was nothing.”

He’s dangerous. Ruthless. Punk. Traveler. 

You wonder if you’ll be here long enough to add more to the list. 

“Relax, kid,” Greef pats you on the back. 

You hadn’t realized your anxiety was showing. Why are you nervous? This isn’t your first time meeting someone equally dangerous, and he is going to be your new partner, after all. 

Because sometimes he comes back with trickles of blood on his knuckles. 

“Ah, and there he is!” 

Din come’s strolling in like he owns the place, with, of course, that jacket, skinny jeans and (biker?) boots; he oozes swagger and confidence, the kind that can really irk a person. And what kinda makes it worse is that he’s handsome as fuck, too, even in the punkish get out. Dark, floofy curls that match the intensity of his eyes—and his outfit—plump, chapped lips with a curl, crooked nose and tan skin; he’s beautiful in your eyes, but you are not going to admit that. 

“Din, this is the new recruit. She doesn’t know much now, but she’s got a lot of spitfire and eagerness to make up for it. Set her up, make sure she’s comfortable, then get to work.” Greef nods at the both of you and walks away. 

Oh, great. 

“H-hi,” you clear your throat. Pull yourself together! You tell him your name and stick your hand out. 

Dark chocolate brown eyes glimpse once at your hand before he shakes it; firmly and short, with no smile or offered greeting in return. You expected as much. 

“Start off by telling me what you know first.” 

His voice. Oh his voice is light with age but deep and gruff; it could melt you and put you to sleep. 

“Well I can pick locks, and I’m pretty okay at stealing.” That sounds so pathetic compared to this batch. 

“Hand-to-hand it is today. Follow me.” 

You follow him around the warehouse—a big, comfy warehouse you’re finding out—and he leads you to what you can automatically tell is the gym; or training room, you should say. He walks around the mat in the middle of the room, and throws a set of keys inside what you assume is an office and shuts the door with a click. 

“Before we do that, I want you to show me your skills,” he instructs. “Karga is cheap, and so is about everyone else here. They’re not going to be happy if they cannot get into their office, or if they have to break the door down to get in. So prevent that from happening, newbie.”

Newbie?

“Newbie?” You repeat. “What are we in, middle school?”

You could’ve sworn his lips just twitched there, but he quickly shakes his head and huffs, leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you realize that he’s waiting for you, so you kneel down and take your pins out of your pocket—a habit to always, always have them in hand. 

You twist your wrists carefully, listening for little clicks and ticks, until it lets out one more loud one and swings open under your pressure; he had to have known it was an easy one, so when you stand up and look at him, he looks unbothered and unimpressed. 

“Good,” he pushes himself off and shrugs his jacket off, throwing it on a chair nearby. He’s wearing a short, black sleeve shirt underneath, with jeans on, too. So are you. 

“Should we change into something more comfortable or?” You ask awkwardly. 

He ignores you again and climbs in between the ropes of the ring. You sigh and climb in, thanking the Maker you didn’t fall or get tangled; it’s a lot harder than it looks, okay?

“Okay, now wh—”

Your feet sweep out from under you. It all happens so quickly, you don’t even know what hit you and you’re falling straight on your back on the hard, wooden mat. A gust of wind leaves your chest in huffs, your back arching and stinging under the assault. 

“What the—ow, fuck—what the fuck was that?” You wince as you help yourself up, rather pathetically if you ask but you just got your ass handed to you in the simplest way. 

“You need to be aware of your surroundings” Din says, not in a gloating way as you suspect most of the others would show towards the new people, but in a way that’s instructional and you internally thank him graciously for it. “Doing these jobs, being a part of our group, it means you have to be alert at all times. Understand?” You nod. “Good. Let’s go again.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, bouncing on your feet. He puffs his chest out a little—he’s got a slim but muscular build, not by much but you know it’s there—and you clench your fists, readying them in a defensive stance. 

“Good, you know that much.” 

It’s so sarcastic you want to punch him. 

So that’s what you try doing by lunging at him, hoping to catch him off guard—and hey, on the first day too? You can use that—but next thing you know his wrist wraps around your closed fist and twists. 

“OW!” You howl, straining under the pressure; he twists your arm just a little deeper, making you flinch in return. 

Pine, you smell pine, leather, and… you think that may be gunpowder. 

“Don’t be so predictable,” he says, barely there whispers of his breath hitting your neck. You hope he doesn’t feel the shiver that just went through you. “Trying to catch someone by surprise can be good, if you know the right way to do it.” He finally lets you go and you sigh in relief as you clutch your arm to your chest. “We can stop for today, if you want.”

You want to say yes in the worst way, already so done after feeling like your arm was about to be ripped out of its socket, but you also don’t want to seem like you can’t handle it on the first day.

“No, I can keep going,” you tell him confidently. 

He takes you down again and again, and when you’re eventually shown to your room, you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow with a very, very sore and beaten body.

The smell of pine is faintly stuck on your pillow, and when you wake up, you think about that one curl on the top of his head that twirls almost down to his eyes.  

***

Din trains you endlessly for weeks and weeks and weeks until you start showing progress. 

The fighting is actually easy once you get the hang of it, and you’re proud to say that you’ve knocked the man off his feet once or twice.

What’s frustrating though is that, for being your new partner, he barely talks to you at all. Sure, when it’s during training or about jobs he will, but other than that he makes no attempts on at least getting to know you. It pisses you off when you see him trailing behind his small group of friends, a whiff of smoke that smells green airing off them, laughing up a storm with them. 

And what’s worse is that you’re not sure why you’re so hurt and frustrated by this. It’s not like you were supposed to be friends or anything. That was usually your number one rule. 

It’s the dreams, you think. It’s the smell of pine and leather and powder that’s specifically Din. It’s imaging what his cock would feel like pounding into you. It’s watching silently from afar, trying to piece the enigma of a man out; the puzzle. 

It’s when you catch him glancing away from you when you turn to him, whether that be during training or across the room during a meeting or that one time, when you got caught in the rain and ran up to your room, drenched and shivering, and you accidentally ran into him in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’m sorry!” You scrambled in his arms. 

His warm, very warm, strong arms. 

You looked up, waiting for him to let you go, but his arms stayed wrapped around you. When you looked up to say something—hey, there’s a puddle starting to form at my feet and I’m sure you don’t want damp clothes for the rest of the night, wherever you’re going—you didn’t miss the way his eyes sought after the beads of water that was trailing down your face and chest, or the way he quickly licked his lips when they slipped underneath your shirt.   

It made you shiver in a different way and he noticed.

Finally he seemed to shake himself out of his daze and backed away from you like you lit him on fire; perhaps in a way, you did.     

It’s when you find yourself studying him; when he’s eating lunch alone, when he’s leaning against a corner of a wall in whatever room you may be in, watching everyone else. When he never turns down a job and always usually comes back successful and you feel glad. 

And especially when, in the middle of training, he’ll press up extra close to you, letting you feel the hard (soft) planes of his body, or when his hands linger longer than they should on your knees when helping you stretch. 

It’s like this building tension between you that’s so thick you’d need a machete to cut through it.

But other than that, you can’t complain. 

“C’mon tough guy,” you mock, bouncing on your feet on the mat. 

Din stands up, rubbing his neck in a wince and throws you a dirty look. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” he mumbles.

“I’m not,” you say defensibly. He leans on one of the ropes, lifting it up. “Oh come on really?” You pout, stomping towards him. “I barely lifted you up and you’re acting like a chi—I–ILD!”

You scramble and flail like a chicken with its head cut off as you fall, barely able to blink before you’re flat on your back. You groan in pain with what little strength just left your body—it’s really not that bad because he took most of your fall with his—

Holy shit you didn’t realize he was practically laying on top of you. 

His breathing is even compared to yours, with his hands wrapped around your head and lower back, preventing you from being seriously hurt; the tip of his nose is touching yours and, today, you can smell the Melioorun on his breath. 

This feels like one of the most awkward and hottest moments of your life. You don’t move, don’t speak or breathe, and one day you’ll have to ask him how he always stays so fucking calm when it feels like you’re about to explode any second now. 

Should you move? Just bite the bullet and risk it all?

His warmth leaves you just as quickly as it happened in the first place and holds his hand out. You stare at it dumbly for probably too long and take it; it doesn’t help when his hand flexes in yours. 

“Guess I deserved that,” you say sheepishly. 

It’s hard to decipher what he’s thinking about. His expression is unreadable to you and he’s characteristically quiet as always—so, what’s new, really?

“You start a new lesson tomorrow.” He says, and walks away just as you’re about to ask what it is. 

That night it’s the juice and his arms you come to. 

Does he know?

Now, you’re assigned to Omera, a very kind woman, who is going to teach you on how to shoot. You hear it’s not hard to figure out. 

“Hi!” She greets warmly in a hug. “It’s very nice to finally meet Din’s new partner.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Oh he’s like that with every new person he meets,” she assures you gently while setting up the targets. Target Practice. “I wouldn’t take offense to it. Just need to give him some time.”

“Right,” you nod absently.

“Here.” She hands you a pair of sound cancelling headphones. “Put this on and grab the gun when you’re ready.”

Your heart beats a little faster when the cool heavy weight of the pistol touches your skin. Omera shows you the proper stance and how to set your sights, and lets you try your first shot on your own; the kickback is small, and the thrill is accelerating. 

“Wow okay,” you laugh, setting the gun down very gently and taking the headphones off. She joins you, probably knowing the kind of high you’re feeling right now. 

“It takes a little bit of time to get used to,” she explains. “But you take your time with this. Better safe than sorry, right?”

You wanna be as good as ‘Target Practice’ Din Djairn?

“Right.” You nod.  

This lesson is longer than Din’s regular, but considering, it’s nothing but fair. When it’s over and you go out to eat, you’re surprised to see the man that’s been pestering your thoughts just about everyday, sitting at the bar with a cold drink in his hands; alone. 

Your palms start to slicken with sweat. Should you go over there? Just casually sit down like you didn’t even notice he was there? Was it really worth such a bother in the first place?

Your heart thuds in your ears as your body decides that, yes, it was time to make a move; he was your fucking partner for Maker’s sake. 

“Hey,” you greet normally—just like you didn’t notice he was there.

He looks up at you in surprise, clutching the glass in his hand tighter. He scowls and that makes you feel so small under his gaze. You should’ve just walked away. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asks annoyingly. 

Okay, now you’re just as annoyed as he is. “Why are you always such a dick to me, huh?” You demand quietly to not make a scene. “I barely know you and you act like I pissed in your drink.”

He snorts, looking in front of him now. “You didn’t do anything,” he sighs. You listen intently. “I just… look, right now this is just about work, alright? I don’t need anyone or anything distracting me.”

You roll your eyes in mild disgust. “Oh please, stop acting like the world revolves around you. There’s nothing wrong with at least being civil with the people you’re working with, no matter how much you don’t like them, and quite frankly, I don’t like being treated like shit for something I didn’t even do.”

Din turns back to you, staring at you with those intense eyes, not giving you the slightest hint of what he can be thinking about right now. It makes you not only nervous, but giddy, too; it’s enough for a small pool or arousal to flare between your legs. 

Finally he takes a large gulp of his drink, setting the empty glass down with a slam. “You’re right.” You gleam. “Tomorrow. You think you’re ready for your first job?”

On a whim, you say yes. He nods and reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, slapping a handful of credits on the bar; the bartender reaches over to take it. 

“It covers her tab, as well,” Din tells him. 

You stare off in shock as he walks out of the bar.

***

Okay. Your first job. A simple, easy job. 

And you’re stuck in a small ass closet with a man who smells so fucking good and is currently pressed tightly against you, watching through the blinds for our quarry to come. 

It’s been at least an hour of this. 

Now the whole reason as to why you’re in a closet, is well, people. This man must love handing his keys out to his friends—or family, you don’t give a shit—and you were nearly caught twice before Din decided it was best to wait it out by hiding.      

You feel okay, that’s not what the problem is—you mean, you would really love it if you didn’t have to stand in a small space for seemingly hours now—but that’s not all that’s getting to you. 

It’s the man directly next to you that keeps bumping his hand against your thigh, so very close to your ass, and while most of it is accidental, you think that the other bumps are not. The warmth of his body is also quite distracting. Your mind starts flowing between images of what it may look like if he ever fucks you and what might happen when the quarry walks through that door.

“Stop moving,” he growls. Your leg hits the space between his, luckily lightly enough that it doesn’t sting but he grabs your shoulder to stop you. 

You can’t help but squirm again. “I’m sorry, this is just—hprm—uncomfortable.”

Din sighs and looks back through the blinds. “It could be another hour before he comes, so please just stop. Moving.”

You give him the best glare you can muster, and give him the finger since you’re at it. 

Another minute goes by. Tick tock. Maker it’s too hot for this. You didn’t sign up for this shit. You should be out there stealing something or picking locks like you were picked to, not stuck in this closet. Not with the Din Djarin, who can’t even grumble an ‘hi’ to you most days. 

Is it always going to be like this until you leave? Will Din still come to you, then, in your dreams, with honey dripping from his lips? 

…Are you seriously about to consider fucking like this?

“Stop it,” he suddenly snaps. “I can practically hear your thoughts and it’s not making this situation any better.”

Pfff. 

You purposefully jab your elbow deep in his ribs, happy with the pained grunt you receive. “Go fuck yourself.”

He curses and moves, childishly trying to put space between the two of you, and you swear you don’t know how this happens in the midst of your arguing and scurrying, but his knee ends up right against your clothed core and your thigh unintentionally rubs against the crotch of his skinny jeans. 

It’s barely there, but it still feels amazing. 

His hands, large and rough, grip your forearms tightly; not enough for it to hurt, but enough to get the point across. 

“Stop.” It comes out in a whisper, brushing right against the shell of your ear. Your pussy slickens and you can’t move, too enthralled with the turn of events (is he getting hard behind you holyfuckhemightbe) to reconnect with your mind. 

Curiously, you ponder on whether it’s always going to be like this, this little dance you and Din like to play—no, I wasn’t staring at you. No, I don’t think about you at all. No, that’s not how you’re supposed to do this, or steal that. No, that’s not my dick pressing up against you right now. No—

“You know I don’t normally fuck on the first job.” 

It comes out so thickly from you that it surprises even yourself. You practically hear the moment he freezes and stops breathing, and a smirk graces your lips in triumph. 

Before he can react, if he was going to, you hear the door that you carefully picked through open and in walks your quarry, sighing in relief as soon as the door closes behind him; if only he knew. 

Din busts out, gun in hand like none of that did not just fucking happen, pointed at the man—Terry, you believe you saw on the file—who flails against the door, trying to open it. Your gun scares him enough to make him stop. 

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

You smirk at the line. It sounds so much like him. 

“L-look I’ll pay you double! Both, e-each, and I’ll-I’ll disappear, I swear!” 

You look towards Din with a side eye glance, just for your own amusement; you’re glad that he plays along, making a pathetic whimper escape from Terry’s lips. 

“Not gonna happen,” you chime. “C’mon, don’t make this harder for any of us.”

Terry is smarter than he looks because he reluctantly nods. You put your gun back into its holster and pull the cuffs snugly tight around his wrists. 

“Good choice.”

Easy. 

Din watches you silently as you lead the way to the car given (stolen) to you—a gorgeous black convertible—and, now you’re positive about this, you’re absolutely sure you felt his eyes on your ass the entire time. 

You wiggle when you help Terry into the seat and bend over riiiight as Din walks by to get to the other side. When you slide in the passenger side, his jaw is clenched tightly and his nose is open in a flare.

Ha. 

***

His friends invite you out to celebrate. 

Given that it was your first job—an easy one, really, with no blood spilt and an easy capture—that must mean that you’re worthy enough to be part of the clique now. Which means going to the local bar and drinking till the heart's content. 

You asked Omera if she would join you, but respectfully declined so you asked your other friend, Jem, whom you liked but she was rather loud. She said yes, of course, which is how you end up at the bar in one of the booths in the back, watching Din play pool and nursing a few fruity and expensive drinks. 

Jem already left you in favor of a young woman who made Jem giggle like a schoolgirl at every chance; well, good for her. 

So it was just you in the booth, debating on how drunk or sober you should be tonight. You’re leaning more towards the latter considering Jem wanted to drive you here when a shadow looms over you.

“Wanna get outta here?”

Din stands over you, looking so intently at you. You gulp and nod your head without even thinking. 

He indicates with a tilt of his head to follow, and you do without so much of a glance back—other than to let Jem know that you were leaving. 

He takes you to the back of the bar and through your confusion you realize he’s walking to a polished black motorcycle; you recognize it, see him with it so many times and yet it doesn’t register in your brain in that moment until you see it. You slow down at the sight of it. 

“You scared?” He asks when you stop. 

“Well I—” you lick your dry lips. “—I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He nods in understanding and holds out a helmet. “Trust me?”

You hesitate, not because it’s him that you don’t trust, but it’s the vehicle itself you do not trust. “Yes. Just please don’t crash.”

He chuckles as you slip the heavy protection over your head and sits himself down, waiting for you to situate yourself behind him before he starts the bike. The loud rumbles vibrate through you immediately and when he revs it you screech and clutch onto his middle in a death grip. 

“Hold on tight!” He shouts and takes off. 

The lurch barely drives you back yet it feels like you’re about to fall. Your head spins under the pressure, and your stomach is doing flips and turns all over as he pushes through the wind. 

You don’t want to open your eyes. You’re not very keen on seeing your impending doom, and this has to be one of the most scariest, exciting moments of your life. 

You feel him zigzag through the roads and alleyways; it’s late, late enough to where there’s no traffic in sight and the city is almost quiet. After moments of encouraging yourself, you finally open your eyes and pick your head up. 

Boy are you happy you did. You can see why Din likes riding this; it’s freeing, feeling the wind brush around you, buildings and lights blurring from the speed. Knowing that at any moment anything can happen but you don’t care; you’re invincible. 

You can also feel the warmth seeping off him and it reminds you of the closet; the vibrations under you doesn’t make it any better. 

Before you know it you’re already back at the warehouse. You’re a little disappointed, both from the short joyride and the short time spent with him, but it’s not like you’re exactly that surprised, either. 

You stand up on trembling legs—the good kind—and hand Din his helmet back with a smile. “Thank you.”

He nods and findles with the straps, looking down at his feet. You don’t know whether you should start walking away or not, so you shift on yours. 

“Wanna smoke with me?” He looks up. “On the roof?”

You grin, knowing what kind of smoke he’s talking about; it’s not your first time, and he’s asking you. “I’ll bring the snacks?”

He smiles; it’s a beautiful smile, a breathtaking one. “Yeah.”

You’re practically skipping towards the kitchen once you’re inside and you watch Din run up to his room. You grab a bunch of snacks that you like and have to wander around aimlessly for the ones you’ve seen Din pick off for minutes before you eventually have your hands worth and sneak up as quietly as you can to the rooftop. You kick at the door once you’re at the top. 

Din helps you place the snacks by the chairs he has set up. When you sit, you understand why he picked this spot; it faces directly towards the quietest and darkest part of the city, making it so the moon and stars shine brightly above. On this type of night, with a cool and gentle breeze in the summer air, it’s perfect. 

“There’s a blanket,” he interrupts your thoughts. He throws the thick pullover at you and you catch one part of it, the rest of it draping over your lap and slapping your face; he chuckles when, again, you give him the finger. 

He rolls the joint and you watch, his fingers moving delicately and expertely over the wrap. It’s even better watching him take the first hit, the way he inhales the smoke and holds it until he exhales it in swirls, his adams apple bobbing. When he passes it to you, you do it exactly the same. 

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he comments. 

You pass it back. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Din.” You tease. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Fair enough.” Pass. “So tell me then.”

This catches you off guard. “Oh,” you exaggerate. “Now you wanna know.” You both laugh, the effects setting in. Pass. “What brought this on?”

Pass. It’s out by then, but it’s not like you mind so much; he’s already rolling another. 

“You really wanna know?”

The way he asks it is like a dare. I dare you to say yes, because you may or may not like what you hear, but I promise you’ll be thinking about it. 

It is a tempting dare. 

And you’re falling for it. 

Hit. Pass. “Yes.”

Your body tingles with excitement when he eyes you up and down, goosebumps flaring your skin. Pass. Another second goes by. Pass. His eyes are getting darker if that’s possible. 

Your pussy is officially drenched now. 

“I know you watch me sometimes,” he says casually. Your heart stops. “I get it, I do… I pay attention to you, too.”

You don’t know whether your heart is going to completely stop or burst through your chest. “Yeah?” It comes out breathless. 

“Yeah.” Pass. “I know that you like that awful soup Rully likes to make.” The old man can make a mean soup! “You’re a thief, though it’s in moderation, save for that convertible of yours. You like to draw, I see you doodling on the walls all the time. You never stay in one place for long because you’re afraid of becoming attached, but mainly because you like to be free. You scrunch your face in this weird, adorable way when you’re concentrating, and you’re kind; you’re a good person and a good friend and I… as your partner, and maybe even friend, I trust you.”

Hit. Pass. 

You were speechless. 

How can you even top that off? You thought you had him all figured and yet here he is, blabbing facts about you that you didn’t even know he knew. 

Hit. 

“You like to be alone,” you start. “But you crave moments like these, too, with someone you’re comfortable with. You try to avoid conflict if you can despite your reputation, but you’re also not afraid to take it to that… level if need be. You respect the Guild and everything in it, and you want to be free, just like I do, and I can see that in the way you ride your bike, and the way you look at the sky now. It’s addicting, isn’t it? Being able to do what you want when you want, however you want, the peace and quiet you get with it...” 

He spreads his legs slightly wider as you pass the joint back. 

This moment is tense. It’s in the air, in the way the smoke curls around you and the way the dirty thoughts in your head makes your skin prickle even more. 

He’s looking at you in a way that makes you feel there’s nothing in the world but this. And you can’t help but feel like you understand him a little more now. 

“I’ve been thinking about the closet,” he finally says. Your breath hitches. 

A few seconds go by and you vaguely think that he’s probably waiting for you to answer, to see if this is okay. 

“M-me too.”

The chair squeaks quietly under his weight. “You felt it, didn’t you?” He almost coos this sweetly. “The way I was starting to get hard from your ass rubbing against me. You just could not stop moving and I started to think about all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you for so long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” You whisper—it feels right to, as to not disturb this precious moment that’ll either make or break you. 

He shrugs, looks away like he has been doing when he’s getting shy; it’s an odd sight coming from such a man as himself, but it’s also cute and endearing. “I don’t know… I haven’t—I mean I have it’s just—”        

Din sighs in frustration. You get it—well, you get that he’s struggling, but not exactly sure as to why—and you don’t want to push him if he’s not ready to tell you what it is he wants to say, so you ignore the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and sit up straight. 

“You want an encore?” You interject boldly. “Because I’ve been thinking about it too.” You stand up, reveling in the way his eyes never leaves you; you have his whole attention now. “How your body was pressed just right against mine. How, some nights, I do imagine fucking you until you can’t handle it.” He audibly inhales sharply. 

You’re standing in front of him now, looming over him just as he did you at the bar. You feel powerful just doing this with the way his eyes light up and his mouth hangs slightly open and his fist tightens on the armrest of the chair. 

Nothing stops you from carefully settling each leg on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. You take the joint from him and take a big, long hit. You hold it in as you stub it out and gently cup Din’s chin, digging your fingers on the undersides of his light stubble cheeks; open. 

His mouth opens without resistance, taking in the cloud of smoke you’re breathing into his open mouth and nose. In the end, your lips meet his in a dirty, sloppy kiss that’s nothing but tongue and spit and teeth; it’s not perfect by all means, it’s a little painful with the clashing and there’s limited space given the chair, and, let’s be honest, your breaths are not the greatest either. 

But it’s like a coil snaps and he growls, wrapping his arms around you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to angle your head however he likes as he viciously attacks your mouth; his tongue glides over your teeth, swirling with yours in a battle you both know he’ll win, and you whimper into the kiss when his hips buckle up into yours. 

“Show me,” he orders gruffly. “Ride my thigh. Show me what you’ve been dreaming about.”

You don’t hesitate to jump off him and pull your jeans off—you stumble in your haste, but you could care less on how ridiculous you look doing it. You keep your underwear on, the air being slightly more chilly now, and climb back onto his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. 

He grabs your hips and helps you adjust your hot, drenched pussy over his clothed, beefy thigh; he pushes your panties to the side and teases you with a swift swipe over your clit. 

“Din,” you moan wantonly. At the first shallow thrust, you’re already a mess, the want finally getting the attention you’ve been begging silently for. Your clit slides deliciously against the rough fabric and you wish to the Maker above that you could scream as loud as you can without attracting attention, because by just the first few thrusts you’re already putty in his arms.

“Fuck I can feel you, pretty girl,” he gushes. “Even through my jeans I can feel how wet this pussy is for me.”

“For you,” you whine, continuing a slow grind. “For you, daddy.”

He groans and throws his head back when your knee bumps against his obvious hard on; it looks so big, even hidden behind clothes, and you know without a doubt that it’ll stretch you out to the brim. “That’s right babygirl. You’re doing good.” Then he grunts your name. 

You know what that means, somehow, and move your hips faster against him. It feels too good. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire in all the best ways, like he’s everywhere all at once and consuming you. You don’t want it to stop, it feels amazing and holy shit he’s flexing his thigh. 

He kisses you, makes you forget your own fucking name, and trails his lips down your neck, feeling around for your sweet spot. When he finds it behind your ear, he bites down and licks around the tender flesh. 

“Fuck!” You hiss, your pussy fluttering around nothing, clit pulsing deliciously under the friction. “I want your cock, Din. Think about riding it just—“ you swirl your hips and rewards you with a guttural grunt. “—like this.” 

He’s moaning with you now, gripping onto your hips tighter and tighter to the point of bruising, and you’re happy it will because you want to remember this moment, and the way just his thigh alone is making your cunt clench and body erupt in the most pleasurable way possible. 

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you moan, throwing your head back, clutching at the back of his neck and pulling on the small strands of hair you feel. “Din make me cum, I wanna feel it so fucking badly, oh shit.” You can’t stop, the words just escaping you like a broken faucet. 

He pushes his leg harder against your pussy and moves hips upwards in time with your thrusts. “I-I am t-too,” he stammers in a pitch; it sounds so erotic coming from him. “Cum with me, cum for me, now.”

As if you needed the permission, your pussy spasms on his leg and gushes the tight jeans, your mouth open in a silent scream, body tingling and squirming in his grasp. 

Din moans so sweetly it should be a sin and clutches at you, biting down on your chest through your shirt.   

The air is perfect now for your slick, hot skin. It takes a few moments for your head to reconnect with the rest of your body, and when it does you slump your weight against him. 

“Did you,” you take a deep breath, your voice hoarse and scratchy. “Do you want me to?”

Din looks up lazily from your chest, understands what you’re gesturing to and shakes his head. 

“Already did.”

You look down and see the big, wet patch on the crouch of his pants. You laugh airily and stand up; your legs are wiggly, but your body is sated and happy, and he looks like he’s experiencing the same kind of bliss.  

Your thighs, slick with your own juices, slide roughly against your jeans uncomfortably as you pull them on, watching him adjust himself and clean himself off as best he can with the blanket he threw at you. 

“So,” you drawl. “Another session tomorrow night?”

Din smiles and sighs. “You read my mind.”

You feel like the happiest woman in the world. 

***

It’s heaven.

Being with him. The late nights, where you come back from a fight or a job laughing and stumbling over your feet in desperation to feel the other. The fucking. 

Din fucking you on every inch and corner of yours and his room any chance he has regardless if you’ll get caught; littering your skin with his marks and fucking you so hard you can barely walk without wincing the next day. Being able to feel the press of his lips against your skin, on your pussy, his hands caressing and bringing every ounce of pleasure from your body. 

Whispered words stolen by a kiss. Giving pieces of yourself that he equally returns. Feeling whole and alive for the first time in your young adulthood. 

It’s fucking paradise.

But the credits you have been saving reminds you of the intentions you had when first joining. You don’t even want to think about leaving right now. 

It isn’t the right time to worry. You’re out on a stakeout with Din, looking for a highly dangerous and wanted woman who, and you heavily admire her for this, once plucked a man's eyeball out with her bare hand. 

It’s the most fucked up and badass thing you’ve encountered yet. 

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You ask out of boredom. 

“No,” he huffs. 

Grump. 

“I Spy?”

“Fuck off.” 

“Thumb war?”

“What did I say?”

“Suck your dick?”

“No. Waitwha—yes, we can do that.”

You giggle and playfully shove his shoulder. “Perv.”

“You’re the one who suggested it.” 

“Yeah, only because you said no to everything else.”

“And we're on a job,” he quirks. “Pay attention.”

You stick your tongue at him. “There is such a thing as multitasking.”

“And I think you’re terrible at it,” he says, but it’s light to let you know he’s only teasing. 

“Whatever.”

…

“You know I think you still have time to suck my dick,” he comments.

“Fuck off.”

She doesn’t show until the sun sets, which you should have expected given the track history; it was easier to disappear in the dark. 

“There,” Din points to the dimly lit alleyway. She walks out of the door, looking both ways before closing it. 

He moves quickly and quietly with you trailing behind. The goal is to try and make it to her before she drives alway; she’s worth more alive than dead. 

You watch in the comforts of the shadows—she’s walking to a car that you hope is hers—and follow as close you can without raising suspicion. 

Just as your feet hit the curb on the street she’s on, glass explodes behind you in shards. 

She’s quick. You forgot to add that little detail. 

It’s all happening too fast for you and you’re standing there like a shocked dumbass, a fish stranded on land. This is the first time that’s ever happened. 

Another bang echoes through the still air and without warning you’re being shoved to the hard concrete ground, scraping your elbows and knees against the pavement. 

“Fuck!” Din hisses in your ear. “You gotta cover me from the left.” You take your gun out of the holster and nod; breathe. 

“Now!”

You whip up at the same time in different directions, guns up and aimed. 

And when you hear a chorus of blasts, you hope to the Maker that Din is still standing to your right.

All you can hear is the sounds of your pants. There’s something lying on the sidewalk where she was at, with something even darker pooling around them. 

Logically, it can’t be him because he’s supposed to be standing at your right, and there’s no logical way he got to the other side that quick, but you’re still in a state of shock by what just happened and where the fuck is he?

“Hey,” It sounds far away. You can’t even tell who it is. “Hey, baby.”

Baby. Only one person would be calling you that. 

Your name. That’s the way he says your name. You hear it. 

“Din?” There’s tears in the back of your throat, but you refuse to let them fall. 

He’s here, in front of you, hugging you to his chest. You’re actually clinging to him, you can feel the leather beneath your fingertips and smell the powder and sweat on him.

It’s him. He’s alive. You both are. 

“We need to go.” Sirens sound off in the distance. 

You never ran so fast in your life. 

The entire ride back you’re in a daze, replaying those fatal moments over and over until your hands start to shake. Din notices and places his hand on your knee, rubbing soothing circles; it helps a little. 

You could’ve died. He could’ve died. It was the first time you were ever caught in a gunfight, been so close at death's door, and yet…

And yet as terrified as you were, there was also a thrill to it; a different kind of excitement you never felt before, a feral type that makes you push Din right up the garage doors of the warehouse as soon as they close. 

He stumbles against the door, caught off guard by your sudden attack. You kiss him before he opens his mouth, your hands already desperately fumbling with his belt. Once it’s off you attach your lips to his neck, biting and sucking the taunt skin, while unzipping his pants; he’s already half hard. 

He grabs a handful of your ass, moaning into the kiss when your hands touch the bare skin of his lower abdomen. When you caress the soft, velvet skin of his cock, he buckles in your grip. 

“I’m gonna do what I said I would do,” you tell him as you get down on your knees, face to face with his leaking red tip. 

You don’t give him the chance to react, darting your tongue out to lick around the head of him before taking him completely in your mouth, moaning at the salty taste and sliding down until he’s hitting the back of your throat with a gag from you. 

His hips jerk without hesitance with a pained whine, making you choke around him. You have to unlock your jaw wider to make it comfortable for you. He fists your hair and keeps you still. 

“Makerfuck pretty girl,” he groans deeply. “G-give me a warning next time.”

You hum, swirling your tongue along the veins of his thick girth. He lets you set the pace then and you pull him out for an intake of air, fisting and pumping your spit and his precum as lubricant. 

“Can never get enough of this,” he pants, already tensing beneath your hands. “Seeing you on your knees for daddy. Fuck I wish you could see yourself right now.”

His breaths become ragged when you take him back in your mouth, this time fisting what you can’t fit and pumping him at a furious pace in tune with your mouth; you let your teeth scrape gently on the underside of the head.

“Hmm that’s it,” he hums. When you briefly look up, he has his head thrown back. “Keep going babygirl.”

The sounds you’re making is beyond obscene, and you’re well aware that anyone can just walk in at any given moment and become witness to this, but here’s the thing: you don’t care. If anything, it makes you suck him harder just to get more out of him. 

“So good for me,” he sighs, now taking back control and thrusting shallowly. The sting of his tug adds to the growing pressure in your pussy. 

You know he’s not going to last long by the way his breathing picks up and his thighs shake and tense; you dig your nails into the skin, and he whimpers, fucking whimpers. 

“A-almost there sweet girl, cover it—yes just like that, beautiful, fuck. Keep going—mhmm.”

His moans get deeper with every slosh of your mouth and hand moving rapidly on his dick. The ache in your pussy is almost unbearable to ignore, but right now you want to make this about his pleasure; you want to be the one in control, bringing him to the same levels of euphoria he brings you and more, to hear those whimpers and growls directed at you. 

A few more sucks and he’s twitching in your mouth, groaning a symphony of curses and praises. 

“Fuck I’m gonna c-cum, go-gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours up, and you better swallow every drop, princess.”

Oh that’s got you gushing in your panties. You whimper, spit and drool trailing down your chin and the length of him, and slip your hand to his balls, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze.

“Shit, I’m—“ he chokes, neck going red and he cums like a bomb, instantly filling your mouth with his salty essence until there’s droplets of that dripping from the corners of your mouth. 

You let him sit in your mouth until he comes to, enjoying the taste of him. He pulls your head back and doesn’t give you the chance for you to even catch your breath before he’s bending over and stealing it away with a dirty kiss; he moans at the taste of himself on your tongue and laps at the remnants of his cum. 

“Thank you.” He whispers. 

You help him put himself away and pull his pants up. You’re able to steal one more kiss before he’s dragging you out of the garage. 

***

It’s been gnawing at you since the thought of leaving was implanted in your brain. The thought of leaving and living a life of your own without depending on anyone to achieve it. 

It’s never bothered you before. You always left, no problems, no aches or regrets. But this one. This one was going to rip your heart out and stomp it to the ground until it could no longer beat. 

The other night doesn’t help, either. 

You want Din by your side. The thought of leaving him or worse hurts, really fucking hurts, and in the months of your trysts and smoke sessions and partnership and late night talks and that awful moment that you thought you lost him, you realized that you were falling in love with him. 

When he told you about the loss of his parents, you fell in love with him. The fact that he trusted you enough to show you that part of his past made your heart beat funny in a good way. 

“The Guild quickly found me after,” he explained, your body entwined under his sheets. “Hans was the one who found me, actually, and just so happened to reside here. Taught me basically everything I know. Greef came in not that long ago, and I brought Omera in just a few months before you showed up.”

You rubbed your hand up and down his chest, tracing the light, faint scars that scattered. 

“So I feel like I owe them, you know?” He continued, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back. “Because if it weren’t for them, I’d probably be dead by now.”

You froze. You didn’t like that. Ever since that night with the assassin, you didn’t like to think or so much as hear anything about Din’s death. 

He must have noticed your sudden shift because he lifted your chin up gently and pouted. “And if it weren’t for them, I probably would have never met you, either.”

It did make you feel better and you appreciated the change. You hugged him impossibly tighter to you, feeling his heart skip a beat beneath your ear. 

“I’m glad I met you,” you said into his chest. 

He sighed, a happy one. “Me too.”

And followed by his fears, insecurities, hobbies and passions, it grew. 

When he first held your hand as he ate you out, that love grew even larger. When he started to make sure you took care of yourself and vice versa, and never missed a chance at making you smile, you were absolutely fucked. 

You’re terrified, obviously. It’s not like you’re in an actual relationship per say, at least, if you are—which you have quarrels with, of course—then it’s unspoken; you couldn’t be angry if he didn’t want to leave. 

You just… want to feel that same type of freedom you felt that night. Build a life off of it. Although at this point, you just want any life with him. 

So you’re going to tell him. Now. In your room, where he’s lying right across from you, naked as the day he was born, on your bed with his hands behind his head. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, tilting his head down to look at you. “I know somethings been bothering you all day.��

You sigh through your nose, pulling your sheets further up your chest. 

It’s now or never. 

“We should just… go,” you finally push out. “Like, ‘leave this place and don’t look back’ type of deal. Just drive off and create a new life for ourselves.”

A breath. 

Silence. 

It’s so fucking quiet you could hear a pin drop. His expression is unreadable, and you’ve gotten good at being able to read him since the half year went by. It’s too much already, making your chest ache and stomach pull in knots. You can’t take another second of silence. 

“Never mind, forget I said anything,” you quickly backtrack, reaching for your clothes when his hand reaches out to stop you. 

“Are you serious?” He demands. “W-why?”

He’s going to say no. You just fucked this all up. 

You shrug your shoulders absentmindedly; he can see straight through your bullshit, anyway. 

“I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life,” you explain quietly, just enough for him to hear. “It’s great and all, don’t get me wrong. I… never intended to stay this long in the first place, you know that. And I know that you feel like you owe them but you don’t, Din.” You take his hand in your lap; he’s listening intently. “I’m not… I’m not forcing you to go. I’m not telling. I’m asking.” God you hope you don’t start losing it. “And if you don’t want to then… then we’ll figure it out. Or something…”

You’re too afraid to look at him. You’ve never felt so open and vulnerable like this before. It was foreign, alien to you and Din as well, you’re sure, so to say that you don’t expect him to roughly palm your cheeks between his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow is a bit of an understatement. 

“Yes,” He whispers against your lips. “Yes.”

You’re bursting. A smile so wide spreads across your lips and you’re laughing and tackling him on the bed, rolling around on the sheets as your lips clash clumsily. 

“We’ll leave as soon as I make the credits,” he pecks your lips once, four times before you stop him.

“I have enough, and why wait?” You’re buzzed off the adrenaline, the knowledge that the man you’ve come to love is here in your arms, mirroring your smile with the wide, toothy one that you adore. 

He laughs, his chest vibrating against yours with it. “Okay.” He trails the tip of his finger down the slope of your nose. “Let’s go.”

You don’t pack much, it’s not like you had a lot to begin with, and it’s easier travelling light when you have no real direction in mind. You both agree to take your car rather than the bike for obvious reasons and it makes you feel guilty; you also feel guilty by not saying a proper goodbye to Jem and Omera. 

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, sticking the keys into the ignition. “I’ll get another one.” He winks at you and you laugh, all bubbly and loud. 

Din puts the car in reverse and backs out of the garage in a hurry, not wanting to waste another precious moment. You wave goodbye at the building as it disappears behind you; you’ll miss the people, even that Cara Dune they stopped by for weapons or to see Din; they had a history, he told you once, and were just good friends. 

“I left them a note,” Din suddenly says. “I knew you also wanted to say goodbye.”

You love him. You swear you love him more than anything in this galaxy. 

You palm the back of his neck and rub, showing your appreciation. He grins and leans his head to the left, sighing pleasantly. The hood is down on the car, the air whipping around you with the city disappearing behind you. 

You don’t find any traces of regret within you. This feels too good for it to be wrong. 

He drives and drives for hours until you have to stop at a motel. It’s old and rundown, but it’ll do. Your room is on the first floor, which is best for the few cars that are scattered in the parking lot.

You’re on each other as soon as the door closes. 

“Look at you,” Din marvels at your pussy from the end of the bed. 

Your hips squirm under his arm, laid out across your lower stomach to hold you down; your clothes are thrown all over the room and you're completely bare to him, spread out like a meal for his taking. “I’ve barely even touched you, pretty girl.”

“Please,” your body is littered in bruises and bite marks, wired and ready to snap at any moment. “Just do something.”

He nips at your inner thigh in retaliation, caressing your leg and throwing it over his broad shoulder. 

“What?” He croons. “What do you want daddy to do?” 

“E-eat me out,” you plead. “Wanna f-feel your mouth on my pussy, daddy.”

That pleases him. “Alright princess, I got you.”

He’s been teasing you relentlessly since you’ve checked in, high off the newfound freedom you both found in each other. The sheets are scratchy and the tv barely shows a decent channel, and you’re pretty sure that the bathroom is in even worse shape, but this is everything. 

“Yes!” You keen. 

He licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to curl under the hood. “Oh my—mhmm.”

His nose brushes against your clit as his tongue ventures back down, licking and sucking in between your folds. The hot, slippery and textured organ pushes in and out of your entrance, tongue fucking you with an eagerness of a man starved. 

Your mind starts to roll over in the pleasure induced haze and the coil in your stomach starts to tighten under his ministrations. He hums at the taste of you and practically envelopes your entire pussy in his mouth and sucks. Hard. 

Your hips jerk, being pushed down as soon as they move. 

“Din,” you whine, burying your fingers in his curls and tugging, earning a deep groan from the man devouring your pussy. He follows your guidance—he really loves it when you pull on his hair—and wraps his lips around your pulsing clit, sucking with audible slurps. 

“Yes,” you gasp, arching your back the best you can. “F-fingers.”

He obliges without having to be told a second time, pushing your legs up slightly higher and sliding two thick fingers inside your fluttering cunt and scissoring them immediately. You whine and wither, it’s so much and not enough and you’re going crazy. 

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He coos mockingly. “Is it here,” he stretches you wider. You mutter a breathless, “No.” “Here?” He motions teasingly right next to the spot that shoots bolts up your body. A small tear trinkles down the corner of your eye in frustration. “My poor baby is desperate, isn’t she?” 

Under any other circumstances, if you weren’t so wrecked, you’d make a snotty comment to rile him up; it’s a whole other feeling when he fucks you like a wild animal, but you’ve been so desperate the moment you drove off that you continue to whine and beg him. 

“I’m begging daddy,” you cry. “Please please I wanna cum on your mouth.”

He finally hits your sweet spot, curling and bumping against it until you're very close to screaming and your legs start to shake.

“Oh Maker I’m gonna—“ your entire lower half starts to tremble. When you look back down to meet his eyes, they’re closed and lost in his own pleasure, sucking harshly around your clit and scraping his teeth gently across the hood. 

Din pulls back with a gulp of air before hoarsely saying, “Cum.” 

He dives back in with a vigor and within five strokes of his fingers and tongue, your pussy clenches around his digits like a vice. 

“Yesyesyesyes FUCK!” 

It feels like you’re practically drowning with the man with the gushing feeling pooling from your core. He continues to eat you out, drinks the juices you give him with ease. 

It’s too much. You keep pushing against his head but he growls and latches on to you tighter, sucking and fucking you even harder than before. 

“S-st-stop,” you muster through the onslaught. “D-Din, Beskar!”

He stops at the safeword and with his chin glistening brightly in the dim light, teeth shining behind it like a wolf stalking its prey, you feel another short wave tingle through you; your body is flushed and spent, but you open your arms to him, welcome his just as equally bare body on yours, moan at the sweet taste of yourself on his mouth.

You feel the bulbous head of him at your entrance and with a nod from you, he pushes in in one smooth thrust; with his spit and your orgasm combined, he slides in with liquid ease and a wet, loud slosh of the mixed fluids he pushes through.

He swallows your whimper and settles himself to the brim inside you, the curls of his hair scraping against your pubic mound and his balls sitting comfortably on the base of your ass. 

“I know, baby,” he coos softly. He runs his hand over your breast, twisting the hard, perked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hips buckle into his, making you both moan and close your eyes. 

“C-can I move?” He grits between his teeth.

“Yes.” You wrap your legs around his waist. 

He pulls out almost completely and thrusts back in without hesitance. The thrust is so hard that it pushes you up the bed. 

“You’re already squeezing the fuck outta me girl,” he pants, holding himself above you. You grip onto his biceps and feel your cunt spasm around him again; you’re still very sensitive from the previous orgasm and it hurts in the best way possible. 

“I ca—“ it’s so hard to think and talk and even breathe with his deliciously thick cock pounding into you with abundance. 

He moans and somehow goes even harder and faster than before, the slaps of his hips against yours so fucking loud that you can’t barely hear the cars outside anymore. 

“Gonna cum again?” He snarls. You nod weakly. “Fuck babygirl this pussy was meant for me, so good to me.”

A bead of sweat falls from his slick body and on your top lip; you wrap your arm around his neck and bring him down to you, licking the sweat off his neck. You bite down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, making him grunt and his cock twitch inside you. 

“Harder,” you gasp in his ear. 

He groans and anchors himself by gripping onto the headboard tightly, slightly stopping the bed from banging against the wall like it has been for the past five minutes—you’ll be surprised if you don’t already receive a noise complaint. 

Your lower stomach tightens again as your orgasm approaches and you can tell he isn’t far behind from you. “I’m gonna cum daddy,” you whimper into the air, head thrown back against the pillow. “C-can I?”

He plows into you like he’s never felt the walls of a pussy before and shifts his hips a little to the left. The reaction is instant. 

“Oh Maker yes, keeping fucking me, right there.” The words are so ragged and broken. 

“Cum all over me,” he demands gruffly, deep from within his chest, staring down at his meal and boasting. He wraps his hand around your neck and squeezes gently at first until you nod, and then more pressure until your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Make daddy cum. C’mon pretty girl, sweet, sweet girl, please.” 

The combinations of his cock, hand, and the whimpered please that just left him do you in. You open your mouth but nothing comes out and the only thing you can feel is your cunt spasming around him, sucking him in when he pulls out; your whole self is lost in euphoria, but you can register his hips slamming sloppily into yours and the pitches whines that are tearing from his throat. 

“Oh fuck fuck.”

He’s about to pull out. You’re not on the implant, it’s something you’ve been meaning to take care of, but this time… this time you don’t want him to. You want to feel all of him in this new light, have another part of him within you. 

“No!” You clutch onto his neck as he reaches down in between your legs. He pushes himself up in shock but he takes you with him and now you’re seated fully on him—is it possible to feel this full and sore and complete at the same time?—as he sits back on his heels, staring at you in a mix of confusion and pain. You immediately feel guilty.

“You can—you can cum in me i-if you’re comfortable with it,” you stammer breathlessly, brushing the curls out of his face. 

Din stares at you in complete wonder, panting and holding your waist in a tight grip that’s slightly painful but you know he’s struggling to hold on right now, so you don’t really blame him for it. 

You’re starting to think you went too far. This is intimate; it’s a mark, it’s trust and security.

Suddenly he gives you a few, hard thrusts and he’s choking on a whimper, filling your stuffed pussy; it feels odd, but it feels just as good for you as well, especially when you see the blissed out look on his face, and you can already feel his cum and yours leaking from you and on to the sheets. 

You’re too weak to hold yourself up anymore, so you lay your upper half on the bed while the lower stays connected to his. His hands run up and down your body, soothing the hot, slick skin while he continues to stare at you; those eyes are so intense that it’s hard to return it without feeling like you’re being consumed. 

The only sounds in the room are your breaths. He lays his head down on your pelvis, gripping your hips in the same way the bruises show.

“Can I stay?” He eventually asks. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. “Inside you,” He clarifies, almost nervously. 

You nod, too tired to move or speak, so he adjusts the both of you back to the pillows; he apologizes when you wince or hiss, laying you on your side so that you’re comfortable. 

Din outlines the contours of your face as your eyes close, a barely there touch that tickles you but you make no moves to stop him. 

He mumbles something but you can barely register what he’s saying, lost in the colors behind your eyelids. 

There’s a soft, wet press on the top of your head before you disappear into your dreams. 

***

It’s hard to keep a low profile with the way you two are going, and without the protection of the Guild anymore, the law is after you more than ever.

That doesn’t stop either one of you. 

Nor does it strip the joy of the life you have with him. 

It’s not always easy for the most part, but you still can’t find any particle of regret in you, or in him. It’s like you were meant for this—doing whatever the fuck you want, when you want, with your partner, in so many ways now, standing by you.   

The sun is setting in the seering desert, the lines of a heat wave outlining it beautifully. The hood of your car is down, sunglasses on and Din.

Well Din is riding right next to you on his brand new bike, laughing and smiling with you. The cops are long gone now, lost in the trail of dust you left behind.

The whole chase was exhilarating, to say the least.

A new days version of Bonnie and Clyde. That’s what one of the papers called you. And no doubt, there was someone from the Guild coming after you for the hefty bounty that’s been placed on your heads. 

“Let them come,” Din says now as you sit on the hood of your car, watching the earth settle into the shadows of the night on the side of the desert, barren road. He runs his hand soothingly on your head, scratching the scalp lightly much to your delight; you can fall asleep right here in his arms like this. “We can take them.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But sometimes I just can’t help but feel like… like—” You can’t finish. 

“Look,” he sits up a little. “I don’t regret this. I don’t. I’ve never felt this happy in years and it’s because I’m with you. I’m experiencing this new life with you and that’s all I want. We’re fine, more than fine, and I have no problems reminding you for the rest of my days if that’s what it takes.”

He seems to always know what’s going through your mind and exactly what you need to hear to soothe it. 

“Thank you.”

He gives your ass a squeeze. You snort and settle closer to his side. “I’m sure my parents are horrified right now.”

You don’t know where that suddenly comes from. 

He shifts and you feel him look down at you, but doesn’t push you away. “Do you want to call them?”

It’s a dumb thing to do and he knows that, but you appreciate what he’s trying to do. 

“No,” you sigh. “Can’t.”

“Hey,” he lifts your chin to look at him; the sun makes him look like a God. “You still got me, alright? Until the end.”

You kiss him. You try to pour all the words unspoken into it, all the love that’s filled your mind and body and soul.

He reminds you at the nearest motel around. This time, he takes his time with you, explores with more depth; no rush, no interruptions. 

It’s soft, the way he cradles you gently and rocks into you. It’s caring, when he kisses you languidly and grinds his pelvis against yours, brushing delicately against your clit. Understanding, when he shushes you quietly. Stability, as he’s holding you close to him, your lips not even moving away from the other. 

It’s love. 

It’s love in the way your heart calls to him. The way you feel so safe and secure with him, knowing that no matter what happens, he’s the only person who will ever have your back in this shitty world. 

It’s love by the way you no longer feel like you’re trying to find pieces of yourself. In being with him, you’ve come to realize that you’re whole now; you’re not searching anymore, you’ve found everything you need right here in him—in the Target Practice Din Djarin, Clyde to your Bonnie, whatever the fuck you want to call it. 

And you tell him that, in hushed whispers. “I love you. Fuck I love you so much.”

Your heart bursts when he says it back. “And I love you. More than my own life.”

You giggle, just out of sheer joy and because you can and he joins you in equal pitch and giddiness. 

His thrusts stay slow and languid, a contrast to your usual roughness, but it’s perfect for the way you’re pouring your heart out to him, as he is to you, in ways old and new. 

“I’m yours,” he breathes on your lips as your core flutters around him. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

You won’t. You never will. 

“And I’m yours,” you seal this in a hard clench of your pussy and revel in the way his eyes roll in the back of his head. 

There’s no telling where you begin and he ends. It’s astronomical the way he seems to fit against you, in you, so perfectly, as if you really are a match made in Heaven. Or Hell. Or, you know, wherever you go after this life. 

When he comes inside you, shivering in your arms with his adorably scrunched up face, you vow that, even if they end up catching up to you in the end, you’ll never leave him unless he asks you. You’ll fight through tooth and nail, and you almost want someone to even try it; they’re trying, and they’ll keep trying until they get their prize. 

There’ll never be anyone like him in this entire galaxy. 

And if he goes down, you go down with him. 

Tags: @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @softpedropascal, @domino-oh-damn​​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @dadzawas-eyebags, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird, @vikingqueen28​, @tedpicklez​, @blunt-cake-yes​, @agoldin, @lustriix​, @readsalot73​, @kateb013​, @eupphoriaaa​, @imalovernotahater​, @everything-lost-and-unsaid​, @dlmafa1, @hoodedbirdie, @drunkenliterary, @fioccodineveautunnale​​, @fangirlfree​, @mrsparknuts​, @amarvelousmandalorian​, @ironheart-hanako​, @bunniotomia​, @thisisthe-way​, @sando-rann, @meganoid1997, @adikaofmandalore​, @cahooter​, @charliepeaceout, @dreamgirl-67, @phoenixhalliwell​, @acrylics-and-sunshine, @sunkissed-winter, @oloreaa​, @equalstrashflavoredtrash​, @dyn-djarin​, @ben-is-a-hoe​, @altarsw​, @pascaliprincess​, @mandalwhoreian​, @roxypeanut​, @lark-cale

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #sin!din #sin!din x reader #pedro pascal #au #ooc #fanfic #din djarin x you

[zombiejoepino]

The Scavenger. CH: 4 (Cobb Vanth x OC fanfic)

Chapter 4: The Snake

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Word count: 3972

Genre: Space Western

Summary: The Marshal visits the capital and things get tense between him and some strangers. Back in Town, Nathsca is figuring out how to leave just before she gets attached to the small community and its locals.

A/N: Took me longer to write this one, I´ve been busy with work. Hope you enjoy it and please feel free to leave comments if you can :)

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The speeder pulled up in front of a rundown blockhouse on the outskirts of the Capital. Bestine was known for having an expensive but legitimate market compared to smaller cities. Jawas and other scoundrels were not welcome. Anyone with shady intentions would be taken by the law.

The Marshal and his companions made their way across the large market, spotting various strange creatures, beasts of burden, and items for sale, most of them exotic and pricy. Farm folk would feel out of place in the New Republic guarded area. Vanth wondered if the New Republic's real intention to guard this city was because of the economic value, an opportunity to bring out the civilization to Tatooine.

Tatooine didn't seem like other civilized or fancy planets, but they got their own rules and ways to survive. Neither the Empire of The Republic didn't care much about the dusty land and lawless cities. They were aware of slavery going through ages and they didn't do a single thing about it.

He didn't let those thoughts get to him for long. His quest was simple and they needed to leave before the giant twins' suns set down to avoid night creatures or sand people.

Having that armor just gave him enough confidence to face them. Walking around in the rusted beskar made the locals turn around at times, maybe he got more attention than he wanted but, it was safer to show off a little. Even though, little thieves or trouble makers always managed to sneak around and, he wasn't that wrong.

Between the crowded market, he noticed a slim hooded figure walking around with two heavies, both of them with mean faces. They were packed, even the slim figure who didn't look like the one that calls for the shots but, the sneaky ones are always the worst.

The group didn't fit right in the picture, just like the Marshal. People would think of him as a paranoid or mad man, but once the Marshal got a bad feeling about someone, he wouldn't let it go that easy. And it was rare for him to make a mistake about someone's character.

The local marketer kept pushing, trying to sell him a carpet or fine fur. The Marshal just played along for the moment, waiting for them to get close to him.

This small group didn't seem interested in buying like locals or travelers. They were asking around for directions. No town in specific they just asked about the west. He picked on the words mining and old town.

The Marshal scanned the area discreetly looking for Marc and the rest of his companions. The last thing he needed was those strangers talking to them and jeopardize the secrecy of their town.

One of the heavies crashed with the Marshal and stopped to study him. The Marshal mirrored his actions. The heavy spoke in huttese, Vanth didn't understand his words but, he picked on his intentions. The armored man looked back at the heavy stranger. Both of them with their hands near the holsters, ready to pull at any moment. Shoot first or move fast.

Those seconds felt like an eternity until the pale slick jumped in.

"Excuse my companion's behavior. He never saw a Mandalorian before." He flashed his toothy smile. The heavy stranger just spoke gibberish and spit on the floor. Vanth shook his head and walked in the opposite direction. He had no time to pick up fights in the middle of the street.

"And now since we are both strangers in this town." Plog addressed back to him and followed. "Have you ever heard of old mining settling around the west? An old town?"

Vanth just played along, trying not to ask questions or hoping they wouldn't run with his companions. He shook his head. "Sorry, partner. No idea." He kept walking but the pale man insisted and followed.

"Are you sure? I heard you Mandalorians are good at hunting or killing. Perhaps you can help me with my quest. I'll pay handsomely."

"I've got other business to attend." He walked away.

Plog didn't dare to stop the armored figure but he got his attention. He knew what kind of folks stand out in Tatooine. He heard about another Mandalorian that went rogue from the guild but, he never saw this one before.

He spoke to the trawlers, the masked one. He asked him to followed the armored stranger.

...

The giant twin suns shine brightly above the distant dune range. Nath stands watching them. Once the Marshal was gone the day before, the locals felt uneasy and even shy around the young stranger. They were not rude to her but they didn't engage in any kind of conversation either.

That didn't bother her at all. Her leg was feeling way better than yesterday. There was not much to do in the short town, to be honest. They had the cantina, a school, a storage place, houses and, that was all. She checked around the school just to know how many kids were in town. They just sat in the shadow while the droid teacher read something for them.

The teacher noticed the young lady and politely asked her to join. Nath felt uneasy at the start but she was pretty far from the nearest shadow to refuse.

The kids watched her with curiosity and even whispered between them. The teacher continued to read the story about the wars in the Old Republic, far away galaxies, and rebellions.

Nath remembered those stories for what she heard from pilots or other strangers that stop by the town. Scavengers focused on one thing only; stealing. They just taught her how to steal and be faster than Jawas.

One of the curious green-skinned kids scoots towards the redhead. He pointed at her knee and, she shrugged. "Just a scratch," she whispered. The kid nodded and showed her a similar wound on his elbow.

"I tried to ride a Bantha, they are so big." The kid spoke. "Are you the one that crashed the speeder? And then the Marshal saved you?"

Other kids quickly turned their attention to the stranger and she blinked many times. Now she regretted being there. Kids started to ask too much about her accident.

"Yes, I had an accident. Always keep your eyes front if you are driving." She tried to avoid other kinds of details.

"And are you staying too? Are you living with the Marshal? Do you like him? Are you his girlfriend now?" The little ones kept asking over and over. The teacher did its best to stop them. They were too excited to listen to Nath's story.

The redhead just laughed and shook her head. Her cheeks turned a little red as she was trying her best to reply to the kids.

Her story started when she was fixing a speeder in her hometown. The fastest one she could ever put up together, the bad guys showed up, wanting to take her speeder and credits. She refused and, the chase started; A long road across the dunes, both twin suns burning her skin, leaving behind all kinds of terrifying creatures. Her only mistake was that she looked back for a second and crashed.

The rest was vaguely told by the kids. They started to jump with random ideas and heroic deeds from the Marshal and how he took down the bad guys.

She did her best to dodge the last question about being his girlfriend but a dark-haired little girl kept watching her wanting to know.

"I'm just the Marshal's guest. Guests can turn into friends and that's it. I don't think I'm staying longer." She smiled softly at the kids. They pouted with her answer. Nath didn't want to get attached to this community. She needed to move on and even leave the planet if she wanted to escape from everything, and especially him; Qod.

She stood up and excused herself from the class.

...

Cobb and the others made a quick stop in the dunes after the cargo went off a speeder. Their best chance was to drive slow if they didn't want to drop anything else in the middle of nowhere. They had fuel, meat, other weapons just in case the dragon shows up. That damned Dragon, they never knew when it would strike, but they were glad it's been away for the last days. But their problems, never end there.

The Marshal's mind moved to those trawlers and the slick in Bestine. They were asking too much about the west, about his town. If they were after the young redhead, then someone spoke about the town.

Tusken Raiders? There is no way to talk with those savages. Jawas? Maybe if they paid them enough just to spit a few words.

They were taking so much trouble to chase down a girl. He thought carefully about her actions and the mystery around her. Yeah, he had to admit that the young one had a fiery attitude, she knew how to punch and was a thief but, she was still a kid. He didn't want to push her around to tell him the full story. He needed to know the enemy.

Maybe he was getting ideas yet, being paranoid about the strangers but, he never let go of that thought.

For a long time, Mos Pelgo has been off the radar and, the Marshal wanted it to keep all heat away from it. They were practically young as a society after many years as a slave camp. Cobb would never risk the town's safety and freedom.

The speed stopped and, the others looked back in confusion. Cobb spoke to Marc and the rest to get ahead before the suns lower down. He had a bad feeling and wanted to check if no one was following them. His companions didn't ask for more and took off, leaving the Marshal by himself.

The long curved caves and rocky areas covered his path. Cobb looked around, guarding them and watching over the dune sea. If those trawlers came this way, he would put them down.

Cobb waited in the high ground and kept his rifle blaster close. For the next hour, he didn't spot anything out of place, just small creatures running around, trying to find shadow or perish under the sun.

The sweat was running down his temples, his mouth felt dry already. He thought about waiting for another hour but, the sky was getting its peculiar orange color. The suns would set down at any moment and, travel like that was not that smart.

A peculiar sound caught the Marshal's attention when he saw a speeder approaching. The rider was one of the heavy trawlers, the masked one. Cobb pointed the rifle, tracking the moving figure in the dune.

He kept his finger on the trigger and, both eyes studied the moving target. The dust-covered him for a moment.

Cobb took a deep breath.

The trawler moved closer, clear view, no dust around him, moving towards into the caves and, the Marshal pulled the trigger without hesitation.

His target's head went back and, its body slips from the speeder, making it crash against the dune. The smoked covered the whole area around the target. Cobb kept his eyes on the sight, waiting.

The body didn't move in the first seconds and, then, it rolled on its back. He coughed and groaned in pain, started to crawl away from the smoke, trying to get into the caves.

The Marshal put the helmet on and flew down, going towards the heavy that cursed at him in Huttesse when he spots him.

Cobb landed on his feet, pointing at the trawler that tried to reach his blaster. The Marshal quickly kicked it away and looked down at him.

"Why were you following me?" The distorted voice spoke.

The trawler frowned and cursed again.

Cobb shook his head, step on his wounded leg and, the heavy grunted in pain.

"Speak." The Marshal growled.

The masked man spoke in Huttese and death glared at him. "The town..." he spitted the words.

"Why?"

The man just smirked at him and laughed. "You know where she is."

He threw sand at the helmet and quickly stand up. Cobb fired but, the trawler managed to dodge the blaster and knocked it off his hands. He threw a punch at the helmet but quickly regretted it when his hand hit it.

Cobb shoots out a straight punch to the trawler's stomach and then right into his face. The man backs off for a moment and spits blood on the sand, jumps over the Marshal and, both hit the dusty ground.

He takes off the Marshal's helmet and throws some heavy punches right into his face.

"I will take this beskar off your dead body." He yells in huttesse.

Cobb covers, hooks his arm around, and hits him with the elbow. The Heavy throws another punch into Cobb's face. The Marshal feels the blood in his mouth and quickly recover, headbutts the heavy right on the nose.

The man backs off with a bloodied nose, looks up. He pulls out a knife and slashes towards the Marshal, cutting his shirt. Cobb felt the sting on his lower belly and felt the blood sticking to the fabric.

He backs off, doing his best to dodge the sharp blade that the big man kept swinging like a maniac. Cobb catches his arm and trying to take the knife. The big one pushes further, using both hands to take the blade, trying to stab Cobb.

The heavy flashes a wicked smile, almost overpowering the armored man, but the Marshal twists his hand, making him scream and drop the knife. Then, Cobb sucker punches at the trawler, making him roll down the dune.

His body rolls down, hits a rock and, he groans when he stops rolling. He twitches and scans the area. The expression changes when he looks at the Marshal's rifle next to him, picked it up, aimed and, he took the first shot right between the eyes.

Cobb was at the top of the dune holding the smoky blaster. He took a deep breath and fell on his knees. He winced and checked the wound on his arm and belly.

That was close, he thought.

Once he recovers, he picks up the helmet and checks on the dead body. He finds a bag with credits, a knife, and nothing else. He had no puck.

...

The giant twins set down over the dune, painting the sky with pinks and oranges purple clouds. Nath wasn't sure how long she walked, a bit further than the crashing place, into the grimy rocky areas. A farmer noticed her but didn't ask her much. She made up some excuse that he didn't buy at first but his attention shifted when the Bantha ran away from its pen.

Maybe other creatures would be observing her at this point and she didn't mind. She took one of the Marshal's blasters just in case a creature or someone tries to attack her.

She moved around the rocks, digging fast as she could until her hand hit something. She took a silver canister out of the hole and looked at what was inside. An icy color glowed out from the can, standing out in the middle of the sandy area. Nath rushed to cover up the hole until she heard a noise. Her head perked up and, her gaze scanned the area.

"Who's there?" She yelled.

There was a long silence until the small figure came out. Nath took a deep breath and shook her head. It was a little girl from school, the one that asked her those embarrassing questions.

"Hey, sweetie. You shouldn't be here, you know."

"Uh... I was worried that you were leaving."

"No, no, I just came to check... the rocks." She closed the canister and smiled at her.

The little girl bit her lip and made a face. "Shiny ones? We don't have those around here."

Nath smiled nervously but before she could reply a single thing.

"No, I'm... preparing a surprise."

"Oh?" The girl walked towards her and smiled.

"It's a secret thing but..." Before she played along with her lie, Nath heard a hiss right behind them. A medium-size creature slithered its way towards them and hissed, flashing the large fangs.

Nathsca tried to stay calm and move slowly towards the frozen kid. She was shaking nervously and about to cry. The redhead did her best to get the creature's attention. The large snake kept its yellow gaze upon the kid, trying to look taller, studying her movements.

The redhead cursed to herself and lowered down to pick up the blaster. It felt like an eternity, any violent move would piss off the creature.

The little one just backed off slowly but, the snake followed her, flashing his fangs at her. The snake could feel the fear in her whimpers, he could see the horror in her eyes. It kept slithering its way until the blaster roar and hit him.

He hissed in anger, looking at the woman and the smoking barrel. He hissed and changed his attention to the redhead that ran towards the kid.

Nath picked the little one in her arms and fired the snake once more and, this time the reptile dodge the blast. They were pretty far from town to ask for help and the darkness was covering the area. She climbed the rocks, keeping the little one in her arms to protect her.

The little girl clung to her and then screamed when the large reptile jumped towards them. She helped the little one to climb first to the top. The snake attacked again, Nath swung the canister to hit it hard, making the large snake wobbled for a moment.

The snake jumped once more, this time making the redhead fall on the ground and lose the blaster. She looked down at the large snake, whose fangs stuck in the canister but it rushed to slid its body around her legs to keep her still.

Nath looked around quickly for the blaster that was just a few inches away from her. She felt the slippery body squeezing her slowly. The snake kept pushing its fangs trying to set free, shaking its head furiously to remove the silver object. The redhead stretched her arm much as she could.

The large reptile shook many times, sending the canister away. It kept a sinister smile and kept his mouth wide to eat the redhead but, a roar was heard. The snake had a smoky hole right into its head.

The long shape loses the grip from her legs and, she quickly backed off from it and kept the blaster up.

The snake moved a little and, she fired several times until there was nothing left of its head. The kid just covered her ears when she heard the blasters and then opened her eyes, looking down at the redhead.

Nath took a deep breath and rushed to get the little girl.

A peculiar sound approached them in the dark.

A man and woman jumped off the speeder and rushed towards them. The little girl smiled and ran towards her mom. The woman picked her up and hugged her tightly, but her husband walked menacingly towards the young redhead.

"What do you think you are doing? First, you bring strangers, now you put my daughter in danger..." He reached her out from the shirt's hem and the redhead quickly backed off.

"Hey, sir, it's not..."

"You..." he frowned ready to raise his hand.

"Triggar!" Another male yelled at him and hopped off the speeder. He kept the helmet under his arm. "Let her go."

"But Marshal, she..." he muttered gibberish and gave him a helpless look. "my daughter."

"Your daughter is safe because of her." The Marshal got between them, keeping Triggar away from the redhead. "Also, she is my guest. I didn't take you as a fella that would hurt a dame."

"No, sir, of course not." Triggar looked down and back off.

Nath folded her arms and looked away, keeping a frown across her face.

The lone dunes were darker than before, which made it difficult for anyone to see someone's actions. She saw the moving shadows that lighted up with the speeders, all of them drove back to town, except for him. She knew that shape.

There was silence. Darkness or not, she could feel the hazel ones scrutinizing, judging her. She built up the courage to speak.

"I'm leaving now." She started to walk but his hand reached her arm to stop her. She frowned at him.

"What happened?" He spoke softly.

"I... just did something stupid even if you asked me not to." She paused and finally looked up at him. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone or get in trouble."

"Nath..." he spoke.

"I put that girl in danger..." she said.

"Listen, the way I look at it, you did nothing wrong. I mean, it was pretty stupid to leave town by yourself, knowing the suns set down around this time. Second, you barely know the area so, you are lucky that something bigger didn't crawl from the nest. What matters right now is that both of you are safe." He paused. "You protected her."

The Marshall placed his hand over her shoulder. She was so ashamed and didn't say more. She wanted to say everything but that would mean put him and the rest at risk.

Her eyes try to read his expression in the darkness. She wasn't sure, it looked like he had a few bruises on his face.

"Time to go, little lady."

She followed him to the speeder and climbed right behind him. Cobb felt the pressure around his belly and took off. Her slender arms squeezed him tighter as he drove away. He grunted a little, still in pain from the battle.

"Sorry." She muttered.

"It's ok. Hold on." He speeded up and, Nath squeezed him more. That moment all she wanted was to scream. She had no idea where the canister fell, she didn't want him to know about it also, she wanted so bad to stop feeling like this; afraid and guilty.

The rock and sand desert were darker than the sky. None of them even noticed the second trawler spying on them. He only picked a heat signal with his binoculars. That man was not Mandalorian at all and, that woman, he couldn't tell yet but, it was probably their target. He needed to rush back and meet with Plog.

A new deal tailored in the hunter's mind. Deliver the girl, kill the man, and take the rusted beskar for himself. He was glad that his partner was cold now, he didn't like the first idea of sharing the beskar with him. Now, it was all his.

#cobb vanth #cobb vanth fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #cobb vanth x oc

[idealistsinc]

19 // where the heart is

wc: 1,338 content warning: fluff, but some sexually suggestive themes because...it’s vhox

Afterward, they lay with their limbs tangled under the sheets. The brackish smell of seaweed stirred the air through the open window, making the candle gutter. Rin thought without much conviction at all that he should get up to close it, but the warm and steady weight of Vhox’s arm about his waist was enough persuasion not to, and he listened instead to the sea’s rhythmic, gentle froth against the rocks far below, lulled.

“Comfortable?” said Vhox, trailing kisses along the ridge of Rin’s spine.

“How on Hydaelyn could I be comfortable?” said Rin. He stretched languidly and looked about for something to complain over, as was customary; his eye settled on a suspicious stain on the mattress that he was almost sure they hadn’t put there. “I dread to think what’s on these sheets.”

“Cum. Prob’ly piss.” Vhox, unbothered, continued his slow exploration to the space between Rin’s shoulderblades. Rin shivered theatrically—and not at all because of the way Vhox’s warm breath sighed against bare skin.

“And here I am paying perfectly good gil for the privilege of using this establishment’s bed. Highway robbery. I ought to stop paying them.”

He felt Vhox smile. “Goin’ to join me on the wrong side o’th’ law?” he said, flicking his tongue very deliberately at the nape of Rin’s neck and nearly making Rin lose his train of thought altogether.

“No.” Rin took a breath, forcibly railroading his mind back on track. “I was rather thinking my gil could be better spent. On—on a room of my own, perhaps.”

Truthfully, Rin had been measuring the idea in his head for some moons, at least since he had thrown out the package that was Senan’s final fuck-you correspondence to his errant sons; he had been living a vagrant, bounced between Walcher’s sofa and the straw-stuffed mattress on Luma’s floor, for the better part of a turn. Perhaps one day, he always told himself. He didn’t necessarily mind his living arrangement, and he might have continued on as he was if not for the table orchestrion he had seen in Hawkers’ Alley a fortnight past.

It was beautiful, all stained birch finishing and aurum regis inlay. Rin daydreamed for days about it, about an oak gateleg table he might have it on, about an etagere of his own where he might display the meager collection of orchestrion rolls he had managed to save and his much-abused violin, currently housed on one of Walcher’s leaning shelves among the miscellany. He was by no means rich, but he had gil enough for a few things here and there; and he had spent three bells counting up his savings before he realized that, in the space of an instant, perhaps one day had become why not now?

The change in Rin’s tone caught Vhox’s attention. Rin felt his tail twitch against his calf. “Here in Limsa?” he said, craning his head over Rin’s shoulder as though to try to see his face. “I thought you wanted to stay o’er with your brother in Ul’dah.”

“In the city proper or in Eastern La Noscea, yes,” Rin said. “Isha’a and Walcher will do just fine without me, and—well, Kallu is nearly old enough for schooling. If I live here, I can work full-time at Maelvaan’s Gate and contribute to his tuition.”

That was certainly reason enough…but it wasn’t the real one, truly, because when Rin imagined what life might be like in Limsa Lominsa, he didn’t imagine the arcanists’ guild. He imagined the fresh green of Kallu’s eyes on those hazy afternoons they’d spent on the beach among the saltspray and seagulls, watching passing vessels while his nephew announced their proper names with all the gravitas of a true captain (“That one’s a barque! You can tell ‘cus it has three masts and they’re all squareish. Do y’see it?”). He imagined Luma reclined on that overstuffed and threadbare sofa after a long day, her hair tied up, laughing so hard and helplessly she flushed. He imagined…

Well. Vhox was not irrelevant to his desire to stay in Limsa, to put it one way.

“So it’d be a…permanent thing,” said Vhox, unreadably.

Rin had told Isha’a first, to check himself against someone who was not so deeply involved or easily swayed. Isha’a asked him only one question: “Why do you want to move there?”

And Rin had confessed, finally, “I’m…I’m happy there, I think.”

Limsa Lominsa was a seedy, seedy town. He had hated it at first, this city infested with pirates, beset by mold, and wracked by storms so violent they shook the nails from the docks—but it was after the storms passed that the sun always shone its brightest. Limsa Lominsa, its food so spicy it scalded his tongue and evacuated his sinuses, its ale so rich he could nearly taste the soil in which the barley had grown, its music so lively it made his heart thrum, and its people…

Rough about the edges, yes. Liars and thieves and rogues, certainly. A people with crooked teeth and too many scars, a people who ate well, drank well, fought well, and laughed well, a people so spirited and interesting and painfully, blissfully alive—

Rin was not just happy; he was entirely in love.

“Yes,” said Rin. “Yes, I expect it would be permanent.”

He and Vhox’s relationship felt still in its infancy at times, their steps uncertain in new, intimate territory. But Rin would not have himself fail to say what he wanted, not anymore. He turned over in his arms to face him, more for Vhox’s benefit than his own, and added very clearly so that there could be no doubt at all of his intention, “You would be welcome to live with me, if you’d like to.”

Vhox tensed at once, with the wild, hunted eyes of a cornered animal. Rin forced himself not to react. It was a knee-jerk reflex, nothing more; and indeed, after a few long heartbeats, Vhox let out a breath and released Rin to roll over on his back. Thinking—considering. It was a good sign that he hadn’t refused out of hand, but Rin’s heart still thudded a little unevenly, worrying.

“‘s not such a good idea,” said Vhox, “y’know, with sailin’. I’d be floatin’ all over creation, showin’ up all ‘ours o’th’ night in all kinds o’states—an’ I can’t pay half th’ rent.”

All the while, Vhox couldn’t seem to look straight at him. If Rin actually thought he meant it, he would have let it be, but…Rin knew that wariness. Vhox was giving him excuses, giving Rin avenues to back out of the offer he’d made. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to live with me, really.

Of course, Rin very much did. It wasn’t only the city he was hopelessly in love with, after all.

“Then think of it as a harbor,” said Rin, “for when you are in town. I have a vested interest in keeping your arse off the street—at all hours, in all states.” His lips quirked. “As a wise man once told me, ‘Cleaning up after drunk guys is my kink.’”

That was not the kind of state Vhox meant, and Rin knew it. But it got Vhox to snort, got him to stop looking for the scar that ran the length of Rin’s forearm, got him to say, finally, “I’ll ‘elp you get a place. I might know of somethin’ over in Bloodshore, if you’re in’erested.” His gaze flickered to Rin’s face, searching. “An’ I’ll…I’ll be around.”

Not a yes…but not a no, either. Something bubbly as foam rose in Rin’s chest, and he leaned over to kiss him, humming when Vhox relaxed at his touch and—

Vhox pulled away a little, blinking. “You’re purring,” he said.

Rin sat up rigidly. I haven’t done that in— “No, I’m not,” said Rin, flushing, and then flushing more when Vhox raised his eyebrows at him and grinned.

But he was.

And actually, once he’d started, there wasn’t a reason to stop.

vhox belongs to @mimiorzea

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv rin weise #ffxiv vhox tia #my writing #take this as my apology for yesterday's #and have a very happy rin who is out here living his best life ;___;

[cloudbattrolls]

The Shades of Us

Svalla Saikos | Derevnya | Two Weeks Prior

Svalla bit her lip as she breathed out hard, her breath white in the frigid air. Usually it would be indistinguishable among the vast steam clouds Derevnya’s machinery created. 

The canal boats lay anchored, the tundra crawlers were hibernating - living parts resting while their artificial motors hummed on standby, waiting to be woken up again and sent to chase down prey for the city. Barely any of the golem-drawn vendors’ carts or lumbering steam cargopedes moved down the empty streets, and passerby spoke to no one and hurried past each other quickly in the late night air - only an hour or so until morning.

The whole town felt asleep, but not resting - the tense sort of sleep one got during a hunt or a heist, the kind she’d had more than enough of in her life. Fleet ships with red tridents circled its distant borders like vultures, waiting to pick it clean.

“Svalla - there you are, Svalla!”

The purpleblood turned from standing on the balcony outside her classroom to watching one of her students scamper up to her, breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong, Aleksy?”

The lean oliveblood held up a hand, one pointer finger raised while they got their breath back.

They straightened up and wiped their forehead, sweat gleaming in the pink and green moonlight.

“There’s a woman - got past the blockade and the policeradicators somehow - some kind of cyborg - says she knows you.”

Svalla’s brows narrowed, her lips pursed in concentration and suspicion.

“I don’t know any cyborgs, except one man...what’s her caste?”

“Uhh, not sure - she was wearing all grays, didn’t have a symbol. We didn’t know what to do, so we locked her in a room...she went willingly, at least. Was that okay?”

The fox troll considered this, playing with her short braid.

“Take me to her. If she’s a spy, we’ll figure it out soon enough. You did well.” She added, and the green blood flashed a nervous smile.

As they walked down the short flight of stairs leading out of her second-floor classroom, teacher following student, Svalla conjured a shield of shadows that floated around her right shoulder. She summoned a knife for her right hand, a pure black instrument that reflected no light; its edge gave off faint wisps of black smoke.

She dropped it as she opened the door and beheld the troll in front of her.

The troll who sat on a wooden chair and looked down at the floor, only tilting her head up at the dark blade’s fall to the floor and dissolution as it hit the panels.

With one and a half limbs replaced by metal and ceramic, hair cut to barely below her ears, and scarred far more than when Svalla had last seen her, the person in front of her was still a familiar face for the shadowmancer.

“Matari Markab.” The purpleblood breathed. “I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet.” Her voice was quieter, raspier - but unmistakably the same one that had teased, comforted, sleepily mumbled at, and begged Svalla for more food on countless occasions.

She was thinner too, her old friend now noticing how her ragged gray clothes hung more limply on her frame. The lowblood wasn’t skinny, but the generous round figure she’d always been happy to flaunt was no more.

Her eyes were the same orange as ever, the same intensity, but their playful mockery was gone. She looked like a troll who’d seen hell and come out the other side.

Svalla slapped her in the face.

Not hard - the indigo knew her own strength and the frailty of lowbloods - but enough to send a message.

“If you weren’t dead” she said, deathly serious. “Then why the fuck didn’t you contact us. Me. Sintax. Sonati. Anyone. You’ve got no excuse good enough that could make me forgive you, Matari, but you do owe me an explanation. Start talking. I want to know why now, of all times, you choose to come back.”

Matari spat out a little blood. Maybe the slap had been too hard. Svalla found she didn’t really care.

“I told you I joined some pirates, right? They got sick of me, marooned me on a planet with one outpost that was hundreds of miles away. Took me a long time to get there and stow away on a ship going back to Alternia.”

The dullness of the pegasus troll’s voice drove the fox troll up the wall. Her shield of shadows quivered, spreading and becoming thicker.

“That doesn’t answer my question. Why did you come back? Why didn’t you just stay in space? Find someone else to mooch off of and disappoint? You’ve done it your whole life. What made you stop?”

Matari blinked, but her expression didn’t change. There was a pause before she spoke, her voice still dull but with a note of weariness.

“For the first time in my life I was alone. Really alone. I blamed everyone else for a while, but out there on a planet that doesn’t give a fuck who you are or whether you live or die...I realized it was my fault. All of it. Everything from when I jerked around Gliese to when I fucked up with Cennef to when Pheres and Sipara ditched me. And yeah, how I abandoned you guys. I didn’t come here thinking you’d want me back -“

“Good, because I don’t.” Cut in the purpleblood icily.

“ - but I heard what was happening, and I knew I had to help.”

The shorter woman bit her lip again, thinking.

“Let’s say I buy your story. Let’s say I believe the empire didn’t catch you and use one of their psychics to turn you into a spy, that all this isn’t a front. Let’s say I even believe you want to help. What do you think you can do? You could, from the looks of it, barely save yourself without someone else to clean up your mess. I’m amazed whatever mediculler you found spared you. I can’t imagine why.”

The lowblood looked at the floor again.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” The fox troll snapped.

She raised her head again, gaze sharp even if her voice was dull.

“Because I’ll die to get you out of this, Svalla. I owe you that much.”

The indigo slapped her former friend again - lighter this time.

“What good are you to me if you die? What good are you to Sintax and Sonati? You’re going to live, Matari, and you’re going to apologize to them and me. You’re going to make it up to us. Not because we’re going to forgive you. But because you owe us living a better life than you did before.”

Without waiting for a response, the shadowmancer called out to Aleksy, who had been awkwardly hovering in the hallway the whole time.

“Get me Lelyah. She can tell if Matari is clean or not.”

“I - I think Lelyah is asleep.”

“Wake her up.”

“...she’s not going to be happy.”

The fox troll bared her fangs - short, but very sharp.

“Let me worry about that. Go.”

Student obedience, caste loyalty, or simple survival instinct informed the lanky olive it would be better for them if they didn’t argue further, and they skittered off in search of the psychic yellowblood.

Matari said nothing in the time it took for Lelyah to appear, scowling with her hands on her hips, Aleksy keeping several paces back from her.

“What do you want, Saikos? Your idiot told me we might have a spy? Keep her locked up until tomorrow evening, who cares. And next time send someone who looks less stupid. I hate their dumb face.”

“A whole tray of lemon bars, dusted with sugar.” Promised the highblood. “Yours if you scan her now.”

The blue and red eyed psychic made a show of tapping her chin and pulling a face, but Svalla knew she had her.

“Fine! But I’m not going easy on her. If she babbles nonsense after, that’s your problem.”

Before the fox troll could object, Lelyah turned, red and blue sparks dancing between her two sets of horns, and sent eye beams directly into the orangeblood.

“Hmmm...well someone’s got a filthy mind! You’re a nasty one, aren’t you, girlie. Full of so much regret you keep pushing aside, letting it pile up like garbage. Pathetic. I see you were controlled by a maroon once, interesting...oh, you deserved it too. Even your own mother doesn’t want you anymore, hm? That’s why you’re here. This is all you’ve got left.”

The psychic rolled her neck, looking over at the indigo.

“She’s not being controlled by anyone else, or used as a sleeper agent or medium. Just a sorry mess of a troll. Feed her to someone’s lusus, she’d be better off. Don’t wake me up again.”

Lelyah stomped off back down the hallway, and Svalla glanced at Matari.

The orangeblood looked up from staring at the floor.

“So how can I help?”

It was as if nothing had happened. As if her every weakness hadn’t just been laid bare. Matari Markab didn’t cry. She didn’t curse, or mock, or ask why Svalla had let that happen.

She had asked her question, and then went silent again.

“How did you get in?” The purpleblood realized that was the most potentially useful information her former friend had to offer.

The tiniest smile crossed the outlaw’s lips.

“My new limbs have high tech. I can go invisible, and lower my temperature so sensors think I’m a highblood. Or spread my body heat around enough that they can’t pick me up at all.”

“How did you even afford that?” The indigo said in disbelief.

“I didn’t.”

Again the tiny smile, and Svalla knew the orange was mirroring her own thoughts: once a thief, always a thief.

“Can you make other people invisible too?”

The smile vanished, and the former thieves’ guild member shook her head.

“That tech only works on me. But I’ve got lasers, and I can make a little smoke.”

Svalla finally dismissed her shadow shield, thinking hard. The plan she’d been working on since she’d mentioned it to Sintax now seemed possible. Difficult - highly dangerous - but just barely possible.

The orangeblood took something out of her sylladex. Curious, the fox troll stepped closer.

It was dried meat. Dried meat and some celery. Utterly bizarre.

“Why are you barely eating anything? No wonder you’ve lost weight.”

“And you’ve gained some. Looking good, Svalla.”

The shadowmancer pouted, pleased at the compliment and acknowledgement but not wanting to give Matari the satisfaction. It was strange hearing praise without the usual flirty note in the lowblood’s voice, but her tone had been completely even.

The orangeblood chewed at a reasonable pace, not racing to see how fast she could finish at all.

“I’ve got a plan.” The indigo said, sitting down on another chair and shutting the door so Aleksy couldn’t hear. She looked around, but if there were mechanical spybots, she couldn’t see them or pick them out with her shadow sense. She was going to have to risk it.

“The empire has everywhere covered, except underground. There’s a jade cavern nearby that Derevnya has tunnels to; I’ve had trolls digging out to them since the blockade started, and we’re nearly there. Enough of us will be leaving through them that the empire is bound to notice, and we’ll need a distraction to cover our escape.

I had one planned already, but until now, I couldn’t figure out how to set it off without the empire tracking us down immediately. With your tech, you can destroy the cults’ libraries and not have a psychic tracker hunt you down right after to interrogate you.”

Matari’s mouth pulled back in a puzzled frown, the expression odd without the roundness her face used to have.

“The cults’ libraries? Don’t they hate you enough from the first time? That seems extra risky.”

The fox troll’s lips drew back into a hard line.

“I know what I’m doing. This is the only way to get the empire’s attention long enough to make sure we all escape safely, and if it works how I want they might even back off from Derevnya.”

Shock was written plainly across the taller woman’s face.

“How?”

Svalla Saikos smiled a grim smile, the smile of a troll who has very little left to lose and a major bone to pick.

“There won’t be much horrorterror summoning after you destroy their texts and the empire comes to clean up the ashes. We’re going to tip them off and slip away while they’re busy.”

“Svalla, you’re selling these people out. They’re probably going to die.”

The lowblood flinched as the highblood snarled at her.

“They’re the reason we’re in this mess! They were sloppy and let themselves get caught! Don’t feel any sympathy for them, Matari. They deserve this.”

The pegasus troll’s eyebrows knitted together quizzically.

“Wait a sec. Your problem with them is that they got caught, not that they summoned a big freaky monster in the first place? Girl, you are whack.”

“The empire wasn’t doing anything about the problems. I’m not saying it was an ideal solution, but it worked! Everything would’ve been fine if they hadn’t gotten careless and let someone squeal.”

The younger woman paused after the indigo snapped at her.

“Sure. Anyway. Is there somewhere I can sleep? It’s been a long night.”

Svalla waved a hand dismissively.

“Aleksy can show you. But I want to know one more thing.”

“Uh, sure.”

“Is it true your lusus doesn’t want you anymore?”

Matari looked away.

“I don’t know. She didn’t come when I called when I went back to our hive...I don’t know if she’s alive or dead. I only found some of her feathers.”

So Lelyah had been right. This really was all her former guildmate had left in the world.

Maybe the right thing to do would have been to hug the abandoned troll, but a part of the purpleblood felt it was only fitting that the orangeblood’s caretaker leave her the way she herself had left so many others.

“Go sleep, Matari. We’ll discuss details in the evening. Don’t mention this to anyone else, or put it in a text message.”

The lowblood nodded.

“Thanks, Svalla.”

The fox troll folded her arms.

“Just go sleep.”

Her former friend obediently got up and walked out the door, and she could hear the woman asking the olive about her room.

The indigo took a deep breath.

What was it the standard-speaking trolls said? It never rained but it poured?

She felt like her tensely sleeping city had just been flooded. That any moment she could drown in the weight of what she had to do. There were no more obstacles blocking her way.

It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

Svalla Saikos had never backed down from what other trolls considered unthinkable. As a child, she had studied for sweeps to bind eldritch powers to her service without resorting to cursed bargains. She had come back to her city after being cast out and stripped of her stipend and carved out a new life, knowing perfectly well how much those she’d spoken out against wanted her dead.

She walked back up to her balcony, a chill wind tossing her long hair back and forth.

Sweeps ago, she had proclaimed that horrorterror artifacts should be released from the cults and used for the good of all, carefully controlled and regulated legally. She had criticized the cults who hoarded secrets, who practiced shameful sacrifices and loathsome experiments while everyone else turned a blind eye.

For this she had been banished.

For this she would punish the trolls who had hidden in the very shadows she controlled for so long.

The indigo smiled into the chill air, looking into the horizon at the red sun just beginning to peek into the sky, its light stark against the slowly hovering imperial ships.

The city was about to wake up. 

#cloud writes #svalla saikos #can you believe her original incarnation was 'quiet and retiring' #now she's full of REVENGE #she still isn't super chatty but she IS very much take charge #matari markab #is baaaaack #if only as an npc for now lol

[zach-the-fox]

PokeTeam Go Episode 3: Start Anew

Outside of Leafy Creek, situated atop of a plateau overlooking the village, sits a building in the form of a Japanese-style dwelling. The walls are adorned with box-like designs as the tiled-roofs protect the insides from the elements. The riolu and spoink approach the front entrance of the base, which the wall slides to the side to open. The pokemon are greeted by an eevee with a flower crown and a red bandana.

The eevee looks upon them. “Uh, can I help you two?” She asks.

“We’d like to see the guild master of Team Rescuers, Ezma,” Emmy implies. “We have something we want to talk about with her.”

“What do you want with our guild master? What business do you have?”

“We came to ask her about joining Team Rescuers.”

“We’re not accepting any new members at this moment.”

“Please let us talk to her,” Zach orders. “We didn’t take on the bandits in the forest for nothing.”

The eevee’s expression changes to surprise. “Wait… You’re the two pokemon who took on the dark thieves? Hm… Just a moment.” She shuts the door in front of them. Zach and Emmy turn to each other, questionable about what’s happening. After about twenty seconds, the door slides open again with the eevee reappearing. “Come in, please.” The riolu and spoink do as they’re told, following the fluffy pokemon through the base. They enter a room with a table with other pokemon around it. The pokemon at the table consist of a yellow-masked monferno with a red tape around its tail, a gligar with a red bandana and goggles, and a celebi wearing the same color bandana as the gligar. They are joined with the scraggy, buizel, and mew from the marketplace.

“Well, if it isn’t the oinker and her pet jackal,” says Jay. “Told you they were the ones who took our jobs.”

“Silence, Jay.” The mew floats forward to the two pokemon. “Is this true? Are you the two pokemon who handled the dark thieves alone?”

“Of course,” Zach tells her. “What were we supposed to do? They had challenged us to a battle and they attacked us. We had to defend ourselves. There wasn’t any other way!”

“And you didn’t bother calling us?” the celebi adds. “We would’ve dealt with them for you. You could’ve been saved.”

“Cindy, please,” the mew snaps. She turns back to the two pokemon. “I will say, it was very brave of you two to take the thieves on. However, I was not happy you tried to pick a fight with my guild members.”

“We weren’t trying to pick a fight with them,” Emmy explains. “They were being demanding and rude to us. We weren’t even doing anything in the marketplace.”

“Save it, Piggy!” Casey utters. “We know you’re only saying that to act innocent. It won’t work!”

“Casey, hush now!” Ezma orders. “Now, I want to know why you’ve come up to guild. What reason do you have?”

“If it’s okay with you, we’d like to join,” pronounces Zach. “We’re inspired by what you do and since we took on those thieves, it would be honor if we joined the guild.”

“You, join us?!” spurts the monferno. “Ha! That’s rich! A couple of outsiders like you aren’t worthy to be in a guild like us.”

“You think they’re worthless, Kenji?” the eevee asks. “They took on dangerous bandits in the forest. I wouldn’t consider them worthless.”

“I agree with Miffy,” says the gligar. “We should at least give them a chance.”

“Gar Gar,” Ezma starts. “You leave that to me. The rest of you, I don’t care what anyone thinks. I am the guild master and I call what’s to be done.” She faces the riolu and spoink. “Listen here, we appreciate you two coming before us, but we aren’t accepting any new members at this time. Thank you for your interest, but it’s time you leave.” She turns to the gligar. “Gar Gar, show these two the way out.”

“But…”

“That’s an order!”

The gligar sighs. “Yes, Guild Master.” He leaves the table and escorts Zach and Emmy out of the base. “I’m sorry it has to be this way. You two would’ve made a great addition to the team. Perhaps there’s another guild you could be a part of, or maybe create your own. Best of luck to you both.” He slides the door closed, leaving the two pokemon outside.

“Well, such a lovely group,” Zach says sarcastically. “And to think they are the protectors of Leafy Creek… What a shame…”

“Sorry about that,” Emmy tells him. She starts hopping. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” The spoink travels down the hill with the riolu behind her, heading back to town. They stop in the marketplace and sit together on a bench, where they are greeted by the eevee they encountered yesterday.

“Hey, you two!” Carly smiles. “Lovely to see you again. How’s your day going?”

“Not so good,” Zach responds. “Got turned down by Team Rescuers after trying to be part of their guild.”

“You tried joining those guys? They’re not really looking for any new members.”

“We know,” Emmy utters. “Would’ve been cool to be part of a guild, though. I’m sick of having a boring life and always get picked on… I’m done being considered weak and told I’m helpless.”

Zach puts his paw around her in an attempt to comfort her. “You’d be a good guild member. Those Team Rescuer idiots don’t know what they’re talking about.” His head lifts a little higher, thinking back to what the gligar had said. “You know what, maybe we can be!” The girls shift to him and ask him what he means. “Who says we have to be a part of a guild to go on adventures and save others? We should be our own guild! We’d do whatever we want to do and be better than those Team Rescuer fools.”

“Are you sure about that?” asks Carly. “Being in a guild seems to be a lot of hard work. There are dangers to it, and what if Team Rescuers does whatever they can to knock you off?”

“I don’t care about Team Rescue-jerks!” Emmy spurts. “Being our own guild would be a greater idea than to join one. We’d show them who the real heroes are, and pokemon would praise us for it! Carly, I want you to be part of it, too!”

The eevee gasps. “Y-you really want me to be part of your guild?” The spoink nods. “I… I’m honored…”

“Okay,” Zach starts. “So, how do we go about starting our own guild? There’s got to be more to it than just claiming to be one.”

“We’ll need to take on some work,” Emmy responds. “You know, get our reputation up with the town. We’ll need to train to become better at our abilities, too.”

“And a base?” Carly questions. “If we’re going to be a guild, we’ll need a base.”

“That’s going to take a lot of money,” Emmy tells her. “We need land and building materials, so it’s going to take time before we get that set up. For now, let’s take on some jobs around the village and boost our reputation a little. And I know just where to start.” She leads the two pokemon to the job board nearby. They browse at the large wooden sign with leaflets and paper strewn about on the body. “Hm, where to start…? I think I know the perfect job to begin at.”

@carlycmarathecat​ @emmy-the-absolute-goof​

#pokemon #OCs #riolu #spoink #eevee #buizel #scraggy #mew #guild #gligar #celebi #monferno

[distantcowboysounds]

Current TES Oc Masterlist

No one asked but here it is anyways, a bit about each of my TES OC’s, not a lot of them but I really like all of them a lot

Name: Malko Dathos

Era: Oblivion - Skyrim

Title (what they do): Hero of Kvatch, Dark Brotherhood Silencer, Sheogorath (Eventually)

Race: Dunmer

Pronouns: He/Him

Archetype: Acrobat/assassin

Tiny summary: Born into slavery Malko winds up in a circus after running away from Morrowind. Kills the ring leader and is arrested two years after in Cyrodiil. He helps Martian stop the Oblivion crisis. After he joins the Dark Brotherhood, falls in love with Lucien Lachance, and during this time he leaves for a few months to join the thieves guild. After Lucien dies and the purification he goes to the Shivering Isles and becomes Sheogorath. Returning to Nirn in the Skyrim era to travel with the LDB (Mayumi)

Vibes: Timid but pretty cool ngl. Hes got big ‘i look soft but i will gut you if you cross me the wrong way’ energy. Pretzel man lives tragic life and loses his mind then gets to fucking party as a daedra. Knows nothing bout alchemy like at all.

----

Name: Nivinor Taharondre

Era: Morrowind

Title (what they do): Nerevarine, Telvanni Mage, Political Advisor

Race: Dunmer/Altmeri mix

Pronouns: She/Her

Archetype: Battlemage & alchemist

Tiny summary: Niv was born in Summerset the younger sister to Estlina. Spending most of her life very sheltered because of being a mixed race elf in a very close-minded area she left to join Cyrodiil’s mages college fairly young. She was caught for stealing rare ingredients on the border of Blackmarsh and Cyrodiil and promptly hauled off to Morrowind. Here she finds out she’s the reincarnation of Nerevar and fulfills her destiny though with some reservations. She travels Morrowind for some time, joining the ranks of House Telvanni (Specifically Tel Mora). When visiting her family back in Summerset her sister tries to hire the Dark Brotherhood to kill her and because of this Nivinor had to leave Tamriel all together and travel to Akaviri for her family’s sake.

Vibes: Sad pretty lady. Very strong mage and loves experimenting and making things explode. Choas but wrapped in a cover of elegance and beauty.

----

Name: Mayumi Raka

Era: Skyrim

Title (what they do): Dragonborn, Dark Brotherhood Listener/leader, head of the blades, eventually a dutchess of Sheogorath

Race: Akaviri

Pronouns: She/Her

Archetype: Rouge

Tiny summary: Joining the Skyrim sect of the thieves guild to see why the guild was failing and ideally getting it back on track with Cryodiil’s guilds was Mayumi’s initial goal when she came to Skyrim. Though after becoming and Nightengale she left the guild, letting Karlana take the position of guild master. Mayumi joined the Dark Brotherhood and after killing Astrid became the leader, working on reforming the guild to its former glory. But before this she was given the title of Dragonborn and went through the trials and immense distress to save the world from Alduin. Wanting to focus her efforts on rebuilding the guild and learning about its past she travels to Cyrodiil in search of the ruined sanctuaries with a particular Dunmer named Malko at her side.

Vibes: ‘Im going to cause problems on purpose’ and ‘fuck it. If i die, i die’ put together. She really just wants to live and have fun without worrying about responsibilities. Simmers down after becoming the lbd but still. Shes here for a good time, not a long time

----

Name: Sulura Dathos

Era: ESO

Title (what they do): Vestige, assorted hero for whatever quests Im doing, Eventual patron deity to assassins

Race: Dunmer

Pronouns: She/Her

Archetype: Assassin & healer

Tiny summary: Pretty Dunmer lady go stab stab. Becomes mega assassin and gets blessed by Sitihs to be a patron deity

Vibes: man idk she aint got none yet

----

Name: Viaiss Spellel

Era: Skyrim

Title (what they do): Head Dawnguard member, Champion of Meridia, Meridia’s protective light

Race: Altmer

Pronouns: He/Him

Archetype: Warrior

Tiny summary: In his early life Via was a high ranking Thalmor Commander from a prestigious family. His whole life was planned for him but after losing the love of his life and all of his soldiers in the night of green fire he ran. Traveling with no purpose for several years before joining the Skaal and living with the before once again setting out to become a monster slayer. He joins the fighters guild for a short while to help make some coin before finding out about the Dawngaurd and immediately joining. Sometime after this he became the champion of Meridia and some years past. He eventually winds up in love with three mages but not many years after meeting the men he passes away, slain by a vampire. Meridia takes his soul to the Coloured Rooms and he becomes a demi prince to her.

Vibes: Sexy scary tough man im in love with u. Old and tired let him rest please hes been through a lot. Can and will sleep for 100 years if u let him.

----

Ocs that are just kinda ocs for my ocs:

Lazarron: Nivinors Husband. A young Breton mage from a high-class family. Very nice and friendly man. Hes got bottom vibes but also he loves his wives v much and will cook nice meals for them.

Batraza: Nivinors Wife. A half-orc half nord bodyguard. Very strong but also very loving and beautiful. Likes to show off her muscles to Niv, also likes when niv shows off her muscles to her.

Estlina: Nivinor’s older sister. Also a Dunmer/Altmer mix. Awful women 0/10 do not like her. Rancid vibes. She tried to kill niv cause shes a big ol meanie

Arina: Via’s fiancee. Shes pretty cool ngl, big crush on Via but he never felt the same way tho he did think she was pretty and nice which she is. Pretty stong illusion mage.

Lekecia: Malko’s friend and mother figure. A Imperial merc that took up the blade for hire job after losing her husband. Lovely women i want her to tell me everythings gonna be okay.

Neren: Viaiss’s best friend and first love. He’s an Altmer mage/archer that grew up along side Via. Basically hes the only reason Via even exists in the first place. Chaotic ‘im going to commit a mild crime’ kinda guy. He would steal from walmart.

#oc: malko dathos #oc: Viaiss Spellal #oc: Nivinor Taharondre #OC: Mayumi Raka #Oc: Sulura Dathos #oc masterpost #elder scrolls #tes ocs #oc #morrowind #skyrim #oblivion #eso

[storiesofadanandhisdog]

The Kings Crown

PROLOGUE  

The  rain fell in large drops, straight down on the hood of Keldorn’s worn cloak. The evening was thick with the smell of wet and rotting wood from the forest floor. Mud sucked and grabbed at the wheels of his drive cart and trailing load. They were heavy and piled high with all kinds of goods on their way to the market in Talaris.

“Come on ya filthy orc smellin’ son’s o’ cows.” Keldorn shouted at the gorthas pulling the train along with seemingly no trouble at all. Gorthas are huge leathery animals that closely resemble a rhino crossed with a pig, but bigger than you might think.

 “We won’t find no dry place to sleep ere’n this forest tonight if ya don’t git those stubby legs movin'.” He knew it was a totally useless suggestion though; gorthas after all have only two speeds, slow and 'I’m dragging An entire store behind me, through a foot of sucking mud, and can’t possibly move any faster if you lit my butt on fire'. So he pulled his hood a little lower and mumbled to himself.

Keldorn had started out from his home in the mountains of Roundhin, more than two weeks past the point any other traders will make the trip. Winter comes hard to this region, and most make good and sure they and their horses are home before it hits. Winters bite would have little effect on the thick skinned gorthas though, and Keldorn has seen a few hard winters out of doors and far from a warm bed.

His thoughts started to wander again to his friends, and the thought of seeing them again after what seemed a long time indeed. “Come on, GET! “ He barked snapping a seldom used whip at his side. He felt bad using the tool because of its symbolism, and not for any thought that they may get mad, or even feel it. These gorthas have been with him for twenty years. The moment they are born, gorthas are introduced to the dwarf who will be as their family. Keldorn and no other can ask them to move. Anyone who tries to force a gortha to go where it doesn’t want to go is wasting the last few moments of their life pushing a mountain that can pulverize steel in it’s blunted teeth. 

“S'ok, I’m just a might touchy s’all.” In Talaris his friends are gathering at this very moment to drink and laugh, toast and cheer, of their past adventures together. There is no place on earth he would want to be more. 

The rain worsened, but there was a small almost invisible smile on the side of Keldorn’s face. He’d be there by dawn.

Davin Mitrell rode to Talaris atop a perfectly groomed mare named Apple. The horse had no sentimental significance, but was a good mannered and intelligent beast. He rode well and the way was smooth, so the trip had been good so far. He was only a half day out by soft ride, so he took his time and enjoyed the day. 

In the trees and bushes, that line the eastern road, eyes watched his passing with more than a passing interest in his wizards robes. These eyes noted no spell book at hand or even visible, wizards often had valuables on them and were easy marks when caught defenceless.

Davin sat back and smiled as he thought of the perfect way to surprise his old companions, he’d walk in to the tavern with a chicken under one arm and a loaf of bread under the other and say ……

An arrow dug into the side of his robe and scratched a deep line along his chest, as twelve men jumped out onto the road in front and behind him. 

“Get him quickly before he can get to some sort o’ magic or another,” one of the bandits barked. They rushed forward from all sides, and another arrow passed by the now rearing horse.

Startled into action, Davin cast the only spell he could think of. “Slee val ectrom!“  Davin is in point of fact not a wizard as the bandits had thought but rather a sorcerer, and a rather odd one at that. Not to say odd in manner, but in that every spell he seems to learn goes wildly out of control, or has some sort of unexplainable side effect. Most of the time you never know what’s going to happen.

The bandits all start to fall fast to sleep, which is good seeing as it was a sleeping type spell, but so does everything else. Birds drop from tree branches, squirrels fall onto the road, and most unfortunately for Davin is, his horse droops it’s eyelids an lays down for a nap. “Huh,” Davin looks around at the seen only slightly surprised, but more than a little concerned says, 

“Now, should I wait for the horse to wake up or will they all wake up together?” He thought  “Damn it.” Davin yelled, reaching down and picking up his pack, and anything he can carry from Apple, dusts himself off, and starts to put some ground between him and the bandits. “Sorry Apple, but I’m a little out manned  here and have no way of knowing when they’ll get back up.” Davin tipped a nonexistent hat to his horse and the rest of his belongings, and headed for his friends and The Top of The Hill Tavern in Talaris. If he’s lucky he’ll be there by dawn.

The monk sits in a wobbly waggon pulled by three very old mules. They should be living out the last of their days in a field grazing lazily on oats, but the group of pilgrims the monk is travelling with can’t afford to replace them. The going is slow but none seem to mind, they are used to long journeys. They came from a group of small villages to the south and planned to make the temple district in Talaris their last stop before the long trip home. 

    The monk has fallowed this group for eight months, watching their faces as they see places and people of religious importance to them and their histories. He understands this need to feel connected to a larger world because of his own need to visit these places, to study what they may teach him. The monk has spent almost his whole life in the study and mastery of his mind and body, to better understand his own place in the world.

    “Beggin’ your pardon Monk, but we're going to stop for a rest now,” Ged, one of the pilgrims said stirring the monk from his thoughts. “will ye be eating with us?”

    “I will be glad of the fine company, Ged.” The monk would some times decline the offer when he was fasting before a meditation, which had no set time as far as his companions could tell, so they always asked. “Whose turn is it to prepare the meal?”

    “Mary is up for the job today. She’s makin’ some sort of soup or stew, I’m not real sure.”

    “Humm, maybe I’ll meditate after all.” These two never find the good natured women’s food very appealing, but neither of them have the heart to tell her.

    “Ha, come on then lets be grateful for the fact that you're not cookin', and grab a bite my friend.” Ged  helped the monk from the waggon and they set out to make a spot clear for the group to eat.

    They ate their lunch in a flat clearing by the side of the road and talk quietly to one another.

    “Tell use Monk, how along has it been since you saw these friends of yours?” Mary asked him as he finished his, uhm, soup, stew…. meal. 

    “The last time I saw them was three years ago. We had had a time of sorting everything out between Davin and that wizards guild I’ve told you of, and Keldorn, the dwarf of the group, made use all promise to meet again. We have been in touch over the years through various ways and agreed on a time and place convenient for everyone. I must say that I’m really going to be glad to see them all again. It seems a very long time.”

    “We will probably make it there with time to spare, if the mules don’t die on us.” Ged laughed. ”We shouldn’t  be more then an hour or two away from the city before we have to stop for the night.”

    “It would be good to see them again,” he thought. “Not long now. We should be there at dawn.” 

    Mark Megal had an unusual travelling companion for a thief and a rogue. He rode beside his long time friend Corvin Godsmold, whose ornate chain shirt caught the sun and threw it about, shining and dancing off anything close by. The paladin almost always seemed to Mark to be giving off some kind of light. They were an odd pair, but they got along so well they just never got around to saying good bye as the others had after their last adventure together. Secretly, Mark stayed to have a good reason not to join a thieves guild, or worse an assassin’s guild. He just wasn’t that kind of a guy. Being able to say, “if I joined your group, I think my paladin friend there may have to smite me or something, and I have no desire to be smotten, thank you very much,” is a great way to avoid unwanted hassling. Mark is good at opening places that may have been shut to others, and finding his way safely to and from some of the more unsavoury places one sometimes needs to go, but he had never liked taking something that wasn’t his to take. Of course, possession is nine tenths of the law, and what Corvin doesn’t see won't kill him. 

    Corvin is a chosen paladin of Hundoo, God of honour and valour. He is a good man with strong principles, and he is rarely ever swayed once he has made up his mind what is right and what is wrong. Corvin likes having Mark with him for both company and for someone to help him stay true to his honour. He can trust Mark to always be Mark, a constant, always pulling some joke or scam. It’s in his harmless, if slightly immoral nature, that Corvin is reminded of what all people truly are at heart. Just people living their lives in the best way they know how.

    “Do you think Safrin and Morin will be there by now,” Mark asked trying not to sound excited.

    “They have been there for a week already, on some ranger business. We will Probably be the last ones there.” Corvin said, pointedly looking at Marks small horse. Mark had been forced to get a new one after his last one took a badly aimed arrow in the back of the head. This one was there, and cheap, two things that have great sway over the rogue purchasing decisions.

    “It’s not my fault, we were running on rough ground and she jerked up at the last second. Anyways it not my fault.”

    “Well with that mangy nag, we won't be there today, we’ll have to ride through the night to be there on time,” Corvin mocked Mark with a grin.

    “Well that’s not a big deal, after all, it’s not like we’re going to have any trouble with you all decked out in your Hundoo parade gear. Who in their right mind would attack us?” Mark grabbed the back of Corvin’s cape and gave a tug, laughing wildly as Corvin fussed over his dress cape being mishandled. 

    “Right then,” Corvin said leaning forward so quickly that it almost pulled Mark, still holding onto his cape, right off his nag. Corvin grinned, spurred his horse and rode circles around Mark as he regained his seat. “If you can catch me this time, I promise not to tell Keldorn you shot and killed your own horse in glorious battle.” He proclaimed holding a fist to the sky at the glorious combat line.

    “You wouldn’t.” A look of terror came over Mark’s face. “You’re not that mean.” He pleaded. “Isn’t it against your religion to kill someone by humiliation?”

    “No”.

    “Get back here you filthy god lover. Coward. Weakling. Oh come on.” Mark pleaded with the nag to move just a bit faster but it just would not move. As he watched Corvin ride away, he knew he’d never hear the end of this from Keldorn.

    Corvin’s voice could still be head far down the road saying, ”Let’s go Mark, we don’t want to be late. We can be there by dawn.” 

#fiction #fantasy #adventure #novel writing

[actuallykiwi]

Once a Thief... Chapter 1: A Chance Arrangement

***DISCLAIMER: A part of this chapter (marked with *asterisks*) was originally written by @1000fiction, so credit goes to them! (i may have changed it just slightly though hehe). And all characters (except for mine, Cimber) belong to Skyrim made by Bethesda! 

Enjoy :) 

Cimber took a deep breath, the smell of lake water and rotting wood filling her nose. It had been years since she had been to Skyrim, and her first time this far into the Rift. She wondered if the rumors about Riften were true, about how corrupted it was, and the mysterious guild secretly ruling its streets. The stable and outer wall seemed normal enough. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and wandered toward the gate. 

“Hold there. Before I let you into Riften, you need to pay the visitor’s tax,” one of the guards prodded. 

She stopped, tilting her head slightly. “Uh.. What’s the tax for?” 

“For the privilege of entering the city. What does it matter?” 

That was her hint right there. Cimber had been scammed enough times back home to know when someone was being dishonest about charging for something. She had gotten good at picking up the signs. “Are you seriously trying to shake me down?” She put a hand on her hip. 

“Alright, keep your voice down! You want everyone to hear you? I’ll let you in, just let me unlock the gate.” The guard shook his head and went to do so. 

“Thank you.” She rolled her eyes when his back was turned and smiled sweetly at him as she walked past. 

She sighed and stopped a few feet from the gate. Well, it wasn’t homely, but it was her new home. Probably. If she found a place to stay. She could see where the smell of rotting wood came from; this city was in dire need of some repairs. She gripped her bag and began to walk toward the center of the city.

Cimber decided to start heading towards the market, where it seemed most of the town milled about. A lot of pockets ripe for picking, she thought, but better to wait before I get too comfortable. Don’t want them hounding the new girl in town. 

From across the way, Brynjolf was proudly showing off his new scheme: “Falmerblood Elixir”. He knew with enough sweet-talking and grand gestures, these walking pockets would buy anything. Eventually. It was all about patience. Now if he could just find a new blood to help with his actual scheme... And it’s as if the gods answered his prayers. If he ever prayed. When he swiveled his head to the right, he had to do a double take. A young girl, perhaps just slightly younger than him, was taking in the city, clearly from out of town. No one from Riften was that clean and put-together. 

Or that pretty. 

 And besides, this girl just had the aura of a true thief around her, as innocently as she played it off. It was like something was pushing him to ask her. So with his mind set into “charming” mode, he did. 

Cimber supposed it wouldn’t be too bad here. As long as she kept her nose clean, found a way to earn a little more gold, and found a decent house, she could be alright here. She leaned on the railing that overlooked the canal beneath the streets, wondering what it used to be like as the bustling city she thought it’d be. She was lost in her thoughts when she hard a voice close behind her. “Never done an honest day’s work in your life for all that coin you’re carrying, eh lass?”

She did her best not to appear slightly startled, and kept her cool, innocent voice on. “I’m sorry, what?” She glanced to her side toward the stranger. 

“I’m saying you’ve got the coin, but you didn’t earn a septim of it honestly, I can tell.” Brynjolf said coolly, as if calling out a fellow thief was just a usual occurrence. 

“Heh, how could you possibly know that?” She chuckled and turned fully towards him, arms loosely crossed in case this guy was up to trouble. And she had the sneaking suspicion that he was. But she couldn’t turn away. 

Now it was Bryn’s turn to try to not appear startled. This girl’s eyes were a shocking shade of amber, as if her eyes were actually made of gold. He wondered how more of the town wasn’t paying her any mind. He cleared his throat. “It’s all about sizing up your mark, lass. The way they walk, what they’re wearing... it’s a dead giveaway.” 

Cimber didn’t think the tunic she had on, skirt tied into a belt of sorts around her waist, and trousers and boots really gave anything away. This guy was good. But now she was getting a bit defensive. “My wealth is none of your business.”  

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, lass. Wealth is my business.” He looked around and leaned in a bit closer towards her. “...Maybe you’d like a taste?” He asked with a grin forming. 

She swore he almost had a purr in his voice. Oddly enough, something about his offer stuck out to her. She needed gold. How could she refuse? “...What did you have in mind?” 

“I’ve got a bit of an errand to perform, but I need an extra pair of hands. And in my line of work, extra hands are well paid.”

Now she was really interested. “What do I have to do?”

“Simple… I’m going to cause a distraction and you’re going to steal Madesi’s silver ring from a strongbox under his stand. Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei’s pocket without him noticing.” 

“Why plant the ring on Brand-Shei?”

“There’s someone that wants to see him put out of business permanently. That’s all you need to know. Now, you tell me when you’re ready and we’ll get started.”

She thought about it for a moment. She was really hoping to avoid any kind of thieving, at least on her first day. And even then she was going to start small, but not a full-blown heist. Well, what the heck. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

 “Good. Wait until I start the distraction and then show me what you’re made of.” He smiled and nodded at her, walking back to his stand. She acted casual and walked around the market wall, appearing nonchalant as the show began.

“Everyone, everyone! Gather ‘round! I have something amazing to show you that demands your attention…” Go time. From the information he gave her, she assumed this Madesi was the jewelry vendor, so with the crowd distracted and herself out of sight of the guards, she got to work. She found the ring and left no trace of her presence behind, then casually but quickly made her way towards Brand-Shei’s stand. The elf was sitting in the perfect position, but the crowd was getting impatient. Time’s almost up. She quietly crawled behind the stand and slipped it neatly into his pocket, just in time. Cimber blended with the crowd as they began to disperse, even adding an agitated sigh for good measure.

“Well, I see that my time is up. Come back tomorrow if you wish to buy!”

***Brynjolf had kept the crowd busy, and so far not a single person had stirred and the guards had no reason to idle in the square. But where was she? He hadn’t seen her pass between Madesi’s stall. He was beginning to think she might’ve bailed. The crowd cleared, and the only person who lingered was the bright-eyed girl, wearing a triumphant, enchanting smirk on her face. 

“This is where you impress me, right?” He grinned back, hoping she would. 

Lo and behold, in a mere few moments, guards swarmed the market at Madesi’s cry of a robbery, the shock of Brand-Shei discovering his possession, and his imminent arrest. 

Brynjolf chuckled.This one was going places. ***

Next

#skyrim #fanfiction #writing #lovestory

[ramblings-of-a-gen-z-teen]

Ten Years of a Better World Part III - A Post Kingdom of Ash Fanfic

Rifthold

Yrene knocks gently on the oak door, “Yafa? It’s time to wake up, we need to leave soon.” The door swings open to reveal Yafa’s sleepy face beaming up at her mother, “To go see Daddy? Is Dad coming today?!” “Yes, yes, I told you yesterday.” Yrene laughs, “Dad’s coming with Aeson and Manon… Now, go pack! We are leaving soon.” Yafa grins excitedly and bounces back into her room to pack.

Rifthold looks beautiful as they ride to the palace. Both ride small mares, one named Belle when Yafa got her on her seventh birthday. The city is a far cry from what it used to be. There are few beggars, prostitutes and thieves on the streets and no known brothels or assassins guilds. Dorian has made a peaceful kingdom, a happy place for all its citizens. Of course, Yrene and Chaol helped but mostly Sartaq and Nesryn guided him. The new Adarlan is heavily influenced by the Khaganate’s rules - as taught by Sartaq and Nesryn on their occasional visits. Dorian has learnt much from them and become good friends through their visits and constant written correspondence between the two kingdoms.

Cobbled streets clack under horse hooves as Yafa asks, “What time will Dad get here?” “Well, darling, it’s a long flight from Anielle so probably in the afternoon or evening.” Yafa makes a sad face, “But we will get to see Dorian and Tristan at the palace.” Yafa’s bronze eyes spark at this, she love playing with little Tristan.

Dorian carries Tristan through the castle. The boy’s wails echo down the usually bustling halls, now empty, the workers given the week off in celebration of the New Year. Dorian bounces Tristan as they walk, his cries quiet as they reach the gardens. Dorian puts Tristan down to run through the sun dappled grass. Soon, the sound of hooves on cobblestone fills the air. “Horsies!” squeals Tristan his sapphire eyes lighting up. Dorian smiles as he follows Tristan’s moon-white head of hair bobbing towards the stables. “Rene!” Tristan starts running wobbly towards Yrene. Dorian races and scoops him up before he runs right under the horses hooves. Tristan squeals in delight as he’s swung into the air and onto his father’s shoulders. From here he is eye level with Yrene who smiles at him as she swings off the horse to embrace Dorian. “Happy New Year, Dorian.” “And to you, Yrene.” Dorian smiles then turns to Yafa still seated on her horse, “Would you like some help?” “Yafa!” Tristan squirms on Dorian’s shoulders reaching for Yafa. Yafa pokes her tongue out at Tristan as Dorian helps her off the horse. Tristan stops wriggling to stick his tongue out too. A string of glistening drool slips into Dorian’s hair. “Oops,” mutters Yafa. “What?” Dorian asks. Yafa smiles sheepishly, “You’ve got some dribble in your hair.” Dorian laughs and runs a hand through his now slightly damp hair, “Oh, well it’s a mess anyway, maybe this will help.” Yafa and Yrene laugh as they all head inside.

Tristan is just up from his nap when the sound of hooves again sounds from the courtyard. Manon, Chaol, Ansel, Ilias, Petrah and Bronwyn have arrived. Yafa races ahead of the others, barreling down the staircase to leap into her fathers arms nearly knocking him over. “Daddy!” Chaol squeezes her tight against his chest lifting her off the ground slightly, “I’ve missed you so much.” He releases Yafa to unstrap a sleeping Aeson from the horse. He was awake the whole flight and passed out as soon as they started riding. Yafa takes Aeson as Yrene arrives. Chaol’s bronze eyes glisten as he sees his wife. Any time away from her feels like an eternity. He closes the gap between them in swift strides and sweeps her into his arms. She pulls back to press a kiss to his lips and whispers, “Happy New Year, Chaol,” she kisses him again, “I love you.” Chaol kisses Yrene back, “I love you too.” “Come on, guys, not in front of the kids,” Dorian pulls a face as he walks from the palace carrying Tristan. Manon’s heart skips a beat as she lays eyes on Dorian for the first time in over a month, his dark hair glistening in the sunlight. He grins, eyes sparking though tired, as he sets a flailing Tristan on the ground. Tristan runs to her in a stumbling fashion, his little legs moving faster than his body. Manon lurches forward and catches him from face planting at the last second. She balances him on her hip as he says, “Mama’s back, Daddy missed you,” and snuggles into her neck. Her heart warms at the words and at how similar to Dorian her son is. He has the same sapphire eyes and warm smile but with her moon-white hair. She never wanted to be a mother and may not be the best mother but she realises as Tristan hugs her, he’s her son and he’s perfect. Dorian embraces both wife and child, kissing Manon’s lips then Tristan’s forehead. “We missed you.” Dorian says quietly “Your Highness, such a display of affection,” Manon drawls smirking to hide her elation at being near him again. Dorian smiles, a cruel smile that tells her he’s going to make her pay for that. She starts to swagger past him but a phantom hand stops her. Dorian’s breath is hot on her ear as he whispers, “What do you say?” “Oh, please, wonderful King Dorian of Adarlan let me go.” Sarcasm oozes from her lips. “Try again, Your Majesty.” “Fine.” Manon sighs and turns to Dorian, “I missed you, too. Happy?” “Very.” Dorian pulls Manon into a deep kiss then releases his phantom hand. She rolls her eyes at him at she walks away, the greeting basically routine at this point. She goes to greet Yrene, who’s now holding a drowsy but awake Aeson. “Tris!” he shouts. “Ace!” Tristan shouts back. The two boys squirm in their mothers arms until they are put down to immediately start brawling on the ground. Yrene smiles at Manon as she watches the two boys intently, eyes bright as she sees how fierce Tris is. Just like her. “I don’t know where Aeson got his attraction to fighting but it’s obvious Tris gets it from you, Manon.” Manon looks up, “Really? You think he’s like me?” “Of course, just look at the way he fights. He’s all nails and teeth. If he were older then Aeson he’d have probably killed him by now.” This makes Manon laugh, “But he’s like Dorian as well. He has figured out how to use his cuteness to manipulate you into giving him sweets.” “His luck is over. I’m immune to that trick,” she smiles fondly, “Dorian tries it all the time.” They both laugh and head inside with the others close behind.

The next day they return to the aerie and all depart for the flight to Orynth.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

#tog #throne of glass #kingdom of ash #kingdom of ash spoilers #after kingdom of ash #post kingdom of ash fanfiction #post koa #post koa fanfic #post koa fics #after koa #fanfic #fanfiction #headcanon #koa #sarah j maas #manon x dorian #Manon #manon blackbeak #manon crochan #dorian #dorian havilliard #Chaol x Yrene #chaol westfall #yrene towers #yrene westfall #yafa westfall #yrene x chaol #dorian x manon #aeson westfall #tristan havilliard

[bleakvictory115-blog]

Chapter 1, Haerdon

"You have us lost Kurt," Ecendar said, but Kurt refused to believe it. "No, no, I paid 10 pieces for these directions, I refuse to believe that inn-keep gave us directions of falsehood for that much." he says hitting the paper with directions with the back of his hand. "What even makes you say that anyway?" Ecendar uses his keen Elven senses to spot similarities in the land. "How many people did you see in that inn? Because I saw 7 and 3 of them were staff. They weren't exactly rolling in business. Also," Ecendar points to a nearby tree to his right, "that tree has a curved line etched into the first branch on its left. We've been here before." Kurt, saddened by the loss of yet more coin says "Ah, great. That's more money gone. So where now?" To which Ecendar replied, "You see that crack in the hillside over there, where it seems like the world is trying to make another cave? It's an exit of a Dwarven hovel. They're like glorified ants, I say. Burrowing their way through the earth, making their own world under us all. Personally I'd rather not deal with another Dwarf if I can help it but we're lost. May as well see if there's a dwarf around it." The pair traveled to the hill side which looked almost of a miniature quarry and smelled of sulfur, sweat and smelting ore. An explosion sounded underneath a rather large rock and smoke began to rise from its edges. The sound of a roaring fire and coughing could be heard underneath of it. A Dwarf surfaced from beneath the rock along with much thicker, darker smoke. The Dwarf was coughing violently and didn't notice Kurt and Ecendar. When he had finished coughing and brushed what seemed to be coal dust off his mining outfit he finally noticed them. "Oh, I'm sorry, is it a bad time to've surfaced? You folk gonna build a town here too, right o'er our hole?" said the Dwarf in his hearty accent. "That's somewhat why were here-" Kurt was interrupted by the Dwarf who almost entered a battle stance upon hearing those words "Then you'll hav-ta take it from us by force, cause we've lived here for centuries and we ain't about-ta go now." Ecendar clarified with annoyance in his voice, "You've got it wrong Dwarf, we're not here to plant the seeds of a town. We need directions to Haerdon, the next town over, do you know the way?" The Dwarf replied "Ah, sorry, can't be too cautious nowadays, can we? The name's Torque! My people an-I have rarely the need to come up during the day when all you people are about, didn't know if we were missing word of a new town! Haha!" Ecendar, being an elf and irritated by Dwarves slight lack of intellect and abundant surplus of cockiness, responds with "Well, maybe if you stuck your head out of your caves you'd learn a few things." To this Torque strikes back with "We like to keep to ourselves. Unlike you elven folk who go poking their nose in everything, all in the name of knowledge. Why can't you keep to your trees every few era or so?" In bitter irritation Ecendar says "I keep telling you people, we do not live in trees! We-" He is interrupted by Kurt. "Enough! Torque, Ecendar, both of you stop it, you can argue later. For now, we need directions. The name's Kurt. Torque, can you help us or not?" Looking only at Kurt, Torque says "Eh, I can help you, but your Elven friend here, Ecendar, he's too stubborn for my help. Come, I'll show you the way. You can buy me a meal and some ale for my troubles, eh! Haha!" Torque slapped his hands against his belly as he laughed, walking in the direction of Haerdon with Ecendar and Kurt not far behind.

As they neared a forest on their way to Haerdon, Torque said "Y'know, you were headed in the right direction, you just didn't go far enou-" He was interrupted by a sketchy looking man, walking out of the forest. Accompanied by 7 other men and women. "About time ya showed up, we want to get paid and leave!" the man said. "What do you mean?" Kurt responded. "Your directions, from the inn-keep, he's given those to many a traveler. Very few have made it. These are dangerous roads, you know. Enough talk, let's get this done." the man said. Him and his goons pulled their swords and axes out - it was an ambush. Ecendar used his bow to take down 2 of the ambushers before they got close enough to swing, while Kurt pulled out his sword and shield and Torque pulled out his rather heavy looking axe and hammer. Kurt blocked one male ambusher's attack with his shield, immediately slamming the shield into the man and piercing a female ambusher through the chest. His sword scraping across h!

ers before she died. He then sliced down onto the other attackers helm, stopping the man in his tracks. He stumbled backwards before crumbling to the ground. Meanwhile, Torque swung his hammer (which was in his left hand) at a man to the right. Cracking it across his head while he had his sword swinging down. Torque then spun back around, hitting another man in the chest with his axe. He then charged and jumped on the back of another man. He dug his axe into the man's back and began swinging wildly with his hammer. The leader of the group hadn't joined in the fight. Scared for his life of what he just saw, he ran into the woods. Ecendar drew another arrow and steadied his bow, but before he could release it the man was picked up. A woman walked up to him with her hand open, pointed at his neck. By simply turning her hand, she turned him to face her. The man began screaming before she closed her fist and his head exploded. She then turned and faced Kurt, Ecendar, and Torque.

The woman began to walk toward them, "I wouldn't shoot that bow if I were you," she said. "Believe me, it'll be the last arrow it launches." Ecendar lowers the bow, "Just so you know, I had him." he says. "I know, and I tracked these thieves for some time before you cut them down. I guess it makes us even." The woman introduced herself, "You don't seem to pose a threat to me... Name's Scarlett." Ecendar introduced himself as well as the others "I'm Ecendar, this is Kurt and the dwarf," Torque was now standing half behind Ecendar, "is Torque." Scarlett replied "Ah, seems like a harty crew. Where are you headed?" Kurt jumped in, "Before we go any further, you just blew that guy's head up with magic. Why should we trust you?" Scarlett assured him, "If I wanted you dead then what want would I have of talking to you? Besides, you saved me a moment of trouble. You did most of my dirty work and I still get paid at Haerdon for stopping them." Kurt spoke again, "Fair enough. Haerdon, you know the way?"  Scarlett agreed, then Torque pulled Kurt aside and said "Firstly, I don't much agree with going with her. I don't much like magic, too unstable. Secondly, I guess you have a way to Haerdon. Won't need me anymore." Kurt responded with "You joking? How often do you get out of your caves? It'd be good to go to Haerdon with us. Also, I still owe you that meal and ale!" Torque smiled, "You know, of the humans I've come across most have been too foolish and rude for me to deal with. But you, you're different. I'd be happy to travel with ya, if only for the ale! Harhar!" Kurt says "Good to hear!" and the Two rejoin the group headed for Haerdon.

"Know that some of the people of Haerdon cannot be trusted," Scarlett said, "there are peddlers and theives that choose to hide away under guise of honest men." Kurt replies "Ah, we've not to worry about them, we have you to help us." Scarlett says "do not rely upon me to get you out of everything. Once I arrive I'm collecting my payment."

The group finally arrives at Haerdon, a town proud of its name and foundings. Scarlett immediately departs for her payment without a word, while Ecendar says he's going to "look around" which usually means that he's making sure no one is watching them. The town is bustling with a surprising large group of people for the size of the town. Kurt and Torque make their way to the nearest inn, one called Tankard's Keep, while Kurt is more on point with having lost money from an innkeep last time. They go up to the innkeep who says "Welcome, looking for rest, drink or food?" Before Kurt can answer, Torque says "What's the largest, strongest ale ya 'ave?" The innkeep replys with a drink called "StoneScale." "I'll take that 'n sum beef, thank ya sir." Kurt places some coin on the bar as payment. Torque looks at Kurt while the innkeep goes for the meal, "And thank you too sir." Kurt simply smiles and nods before asking "So, what all do you think we'll find in Haerdon? I mean food and drink is all well and good but what else could be he-" just then Scarlett more or less busts through the door with Ecendar guarding the outside.

She approaches the duo now looking at her. "I don't mean to alarm you but we have an issue." she says calmly leaning on the bar in between them staring at the wood. "Apparently someone from that group was the son of a powerful family here, and my payment came from someone claiming to be from the Brand Guild. You know, the ones that brand your chest when they have a bounty on you about a week before they kill you? Yeah, not a friendly bunch. My payer informed me that information travels faster than we, as the family is looking for us." The innkeep starts to walk back from the kitchen with Torques meal "Long story short we have to leave, now."

"But me meal!" complained Torque. "Put it in this bag and your mead in this waterskin! We'll meet you outside!" Kurt slammed a small bag and waterskin on the table before rushing to the door where Scarlett and Ecendar were. Torque stuffed and poured quickly while fumbling his short rotund figure to the door. The group moves fast but still inconspicuous enough to make it to the edge of town, passing beggars and market folk before being stopped by a guard holding a piece of parchment. "Hold, have you seen this one before?" The parchment is a wanted poster with a drawing of an amalgamation of them all. Long hair on one side while short on the other, a short figure with pointed ears and Kurt's nose.

"That is one odd fellow isn't it..? Can't say I have, sorry." said Kurt. Ah, well, keep an eye out if you will. Haerdon stands." the guard plants his fist on his chest as a 'good day' gesture before leaving. The group leaves Haerdon almost as quickly as they arrived, and while Torque stuff's food in his mouth and Ecendar reprimands him for it, Scarlett says "Good job back there with the guard, you spoke fast and calm. Gave him no reason to doubt us." Kurt replied with "What I lack in farm skills I make up for in people skills. So, how's it feel to be a labeled a amalgamation and a bandit in the same day and town?" Scarlett said "I've been labeled a bandit many times, the amalgamation is the first. Good thing is that whoever saw us in the woods earlier was very bad and describing who we were." Kurt said "Yeah, I'd rather not try that again." Kurt notices the sun going down. "Bad news is that there's no town nearby we can bed down at, so we'll have to make do nearby. That, there." Kurt points to a nearby treeline. "Just in the treeline will give us cover from most things, I suggest there." The group clear a small area in the treeline and get some rest for the night.

(I know this 'chapter' has been a large one but to those who have made it this far, I thank you. I will try to keep chapters coming once a week. Follow for more of the story, there's plenty more to come.)

#writing #first story #fantasy #fantasy story