#I am fucking with it literally until I put his ass in the grave

[ahungeringknife]

what I love most about Spayar is that he acts like a whore while being the most boring basic bitch imaginable.

but not just in the sense that he sleeps around (he does). But he's all easy smiles and graces and goes out partying and shit. He easily tells you pretty lies that fill your head with all the assurances he's not going to knife you in the back. He'll sell you out in an instant. He'll sell himself out for the right price. He's got the biggest trickster god in the pantheon whispering in his ear just for the hell of it. It's fun. Could be a good story. Even helps him with a silver or poison tongue when needed.

You have what he wants? Name a price. The only thing he won't do is sell out Von

But on the inside he hates doing all of it. He just wants to be a fucking home body and hang out with his mom in the garden and help his dad make magic jewelry. He wants to follow all the stupid rules imaginable and have boring sex with the same person every time until he dies. None of this fuckery with the royals. None of this backstabbing with nobility. None of the drama that comes from being the d'aelar.

Spayar is the most edgy fuck you've ever seen. Dresses all in black. Opens his mouth for anyone who can benefit him. Whips his dick out if it gets him the golden goose. And in general in just a man whore style person who desperately just wants to talk about metal weight vs mass to anyone who will listen.

The problem is he's fucking good at it and that's why he can't just be the boring silver smith he should have been.

#rattling #fey alliance #I love this idiot boy #he neVER gets his peaceful life either #I am fucking with it literally until I put his ass in the grave #and yes I have planned out his life enough to know that #be it Von or Altara or Kharla #some fucking Le'Acard is ruining Spayar's fucking life

[asumofwords]

The ask about the dicks??yall are wild 💀💀💀

I want to ask something spicy too and very important: what do Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, Jace and Criston like more?ass or boobs? Like what do they prefers in a woman or what do they see fisrt?what preferences do they have?for example I know for sure that Aemond would have a massive size kink and is into petite girls(and it has nothing to do with being a short queen myself and being delulu) because he likes the power dynamic

Sorry for taking so long to answer this but omg I love it heheh. I am literally cackling as I write this. I know I'm going to miss a lot, but let's at least set down the baseline.

What Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, Jace and Criston fancy.

Aemond is definitely a boobs kind of guy, we all know how feral he gets at the thought of breast milk and them tiddies being swollen (Mummy issues right? Freud is rolling in his grave if he existed in the HOTD universe lmao).

You’re right about Aemond having a size kink, he likes loves when you’re smaller than him. He loves when he has power, strength over you. To throw you around, grab you, fuck you and do anything he wants.

He definitely loves marking people, whether hands, lips or teeth, he wants to mark you so that everyone knows you are his. Possessive right?

Loves submission but also brattiness is a weak spot for him. He wants to break someone in, bend them to his will and put them in their place. Massive power dynamics with him.

Loves fear play as well, the hunter/prey gig. Aemond lives for the chase, loves to see the fear in your eyes when he catches you. Did I say knife kink?

Somnophillia is definitely something he thrives on too, this man is just a filthy little deviant. DID I MENTION BREEDING KINK. Pussy eating is an addiction this man will not go to rehab for.

Aegon; Tits and ass man, not really fussed, anything goes. He’s got that ‘any holes a goal’ attitude and sticks to it.

Breeding kink 100%, loves watching cum drip out of cunnies, or to be fair, any orifice. This man will cum on your face, tits, back or wherever he wants. The dirtier the better.

Definitely a switch. Can be very submissive, mummy kink to boot. Wants to be taken care of and praised, held and doted on. Wants someone to press kisses to his face whilst they ride him and tell him he makes them feel good.

Loves quiet, little creatures who will squeak if he pinches them. Insatiable, like his brother. Will fuck you anywhere, anytime, drunk, sober, awake, asleep. If your hole is the goal, Aegon is gonna get it.

If we ignore cannon assaults, I would say he definitely has a CNC kink (consensual non consent). When he’s in the mood, stressed or pushed, he will bend you over any surface and force himself in.

Free use King.

Not a pleasure dom, will get his nut and run most of the time.

Our Daddy Daemon has no limits to his tastes. Call this man a connoisseur. Tits, ass, anything goes for this man.

Absolute kink King, would let you peg him if you begged prettily enough. Orgies galore, the more the merrier. Loves his ass being played with, lick, finger, rub, fuck, anything for that stimulation that makes his toes curl and teeth clench. Go. Off. King. If you play with his balls when you suck him off, that man is a goner, eyes will roll in the back of his head.

Definite size kink, loves the power of it, seeing how small you look beneath him as he fucks into you. This man has a giant cock, we all know it's the truth, and he would delight seeing the bulge of it in your stomach.

Daemon has a thing for eating pussy like his nephew Aemond, blood runs thick in this family, and Daemon will spend an entire night between your thighs until you are crying and begging for him to stop or have passed out.

Restraints? No problem, he will tie you up with silk or whatever is lying around and have his way with you, or simply hold both of your wrists in his hands as he plows into you.

Breeding kink…enough said.

Considerate lover, will make you cum every time. Voyeur king, anywhere he can get caught? Mans will be there to fuck you into any surface.

Jacaerys is an ass man. Don’t ask questions, I just get the vibe. He wants to grab your cheeks and spread them apart, look down at both of your fluttering holes and watch his seed or your release leak out. Speaking of ass man, anal. Loves it.

He’s such a cutie as well, will praise the living hell out of you. Spit? Loves it. Will spit in your mouth, on your pussy, in your holes, wherever he can, but he will be real polite about it.

Soft dom for days, will praise, compliment and encourage you until you’re a puddle beneath him and blushing. But will also grab the fuck out of you if you are bratty. He has his mothers temper.

And like his Step Daddy Daemon, man has a fucking hog, and loves to stretch you out on it, insert oooh big stretch. Size kinks galore with this one.

Loves to fuck your face and coo at how well you take him, smoothing hair and tears away from your cheeks as you gag on his length.

Skilled fingers, this man has a thing about his hands and needs them to be on you. If you have your period, he will make love to you during it and be so doting and caring about it. He loves how much wetter you are and how sensitive you can be. He also loves knowing it makes you feel good, because he wants to take care of you.

Anything you want, Jace will give to you.

Criston Incel Cole. Wants a submissive, demure woman who won’t hurt him like Rhaenyra (cough Alicent cough). Boobs and thigh man, loves to grab and suck at the skin and mark it, but not in a way that could be seen publicly. He doesn’t want anyone to know he’s broken his oath or that you’re his whore behind closed doors.

Loves praise.

Hard dom. Very strict on instructions and commands, will wear his uniform as he fucks you, will be angry, rough, but after, soft and gentle. He has to get his anger out somehow.

Creampie kink, not necessarily a breeding kink, but loves to see you full of him. Will play with it as it leaks out of you. Has a thing about kissing you though.

A Missionary Man, hard to get him to fuck you in any other position, but he likes to watch you below him, how your breasts jiggle with each thrust or how your face flushes when you cum.

Not the most skilled of lovers, but is eager and willing to learn.

If he really trusts you, man is a fucking SUB. But that is a rare occurrence.

-

Hope you enjoyed my disgusting fucking thoughts on this hahahaha

#drabble

[jwowwsboobs]

im not super caught up w artry lore give me the cliffnotez

artery is a FICTIONAL (sadly) all-female southern californian thrash band from the early to mid-80s that i made up and am now obsessed w...under the cut i have a summary of their history but some "incidents" that r not mentioned but r classics to know. there r more ofc but these r my 5 favorites

slayer incident (kerry king was invited to a practice cuz ronnie wanted to fuck him. he stole one of jacks songs. jack tried to kill him but was pulled off b4 she did. jack talked shit abt slayer until her death)

ronnie's 20th birthday party (her parents got her a pink mustang ('83 not '68 which is (one of) her dream cars). jack made fun of her. she ran jack over with it. jack did not die)

laundromat pizza incident (on tour for total annihilation. went into a laundromat to do laundry, ordered a pizza. jack was drunk n high off her ass, put the pizza in the washer with the clothes. it was very gross but so funny. only time jack like. actually cried not from laughing) 

the pussy cast (max broke her arm at the end of their '83 tour, jack and gale drew vaginas and boobs all over it. ronnie still has it somewhere)

pig guts incident (august '82. jack wanted to have a photoshoot with blood. darcy's uncle knew a guy who owned a pig farm. they drove to his farm n picked up like 2 barrels (200 liters) of pig blood n took it back to their house. started w jack making everyone dip their hands in the blood. darcy took pictures but jack thought it would be funny to throw some at her, turning it into a fight. there was no winner, only a loser (ronnie, who got so grossed out she threw up.) there r like 3 pictures from that shoot cuz the blood like. got into the camera n fucked up the negatives <\3)

Inspired by the emerging NWOBHM and the rapid growth of punk and hardcore in southern California, Maxine “Max” Kennedy (guitar, vocals) and Ronnie Young (drums) formed Artery in early 1981. The pair met at school when Young noticed Kennedy wearing a tee shirt for the British heavy metal/punk band Motorhead and bonded over their appreciation for Black Sabbath, Angel Witch, and the aforementioned Motorhead. Schoolmate Gale Barker was recruited into the band two weeks later, after the pair saw a performance with Barker’s then-band, “Bitch” where Barker played a bass solo and destroyed a drum kit, amplifier, and, as legend has it, an extra-large pizza supplied by Kennedy and Young after the show. 

During the summer of ‘81, Artery had great difficulty finding a lead guitarist, mostly playing and practicing as a trio. Barker met Jacqueline “Jack” Walsh in a record store and Walsh’s aggressive, confrontational playing style melded perfectly with Kennedy, Barker, and Young’s. She was brought on board immediately and Artery’s lineup was finalized.

Their demo “Dig Yr Grave” (recorded December 1981) took the underground scene by storm and in the following months, a follow-up ("Spitfire," recorded June 1982) was written and released. 

They were picked up by Metal Blade to record an EP in the summer of ‘82. During these recording sessions, Artery actually had so much material prepared that they elected to abandon the EP and record an LP. “No Mercy... No Peace” was released on February 11th, 1983 to great enthusiasm and acclaim in the underground metal community. Artery set off on a modest (but successful!) American tour in the spring and summer of 1983, and upon returning to California, recorded their 2nd LP, “Total Annihilation,” released January, 1984. More touring and another round of recording followed, and their 3rd LP, “Death,” was released in May 1985. This would be Artery’s last official release, as Walsh passed away on November 3rd, 1985, during the 2nd American leg of the supporting tour.   

The band broke up soon after. Young went on to found Armageddon Inc., a label specializing in the extreme metal emerging in the late 80s; Barker became a visual artist and played in various California-based punk bands. Kennedy disappeared from public life entirely and has not been seen or heard from in 30 years. Whether she is alive or not is subject to much speculation. Kennedy is not mentioned in any interviews given by Barker or Young after Artery’s dissolution. 

#lil embarrassing for u but dw. i love giving the rundown <3 n probably need it in the tag anyway LOL #artery tag #anon #asks

[hungryistrying]

my roommate (f24) is trying to blue ball me (m25) to death

summary: 

Jinx's head whirled back in Ekko's direction and she glared at him. "Oh, so I'm not sexy?"

After contemplating ditching all of them and just driving home by himself, he decided against it and deadpanned, "I literally didn't say anything."

"Your silence speaks volumes." She scoffed.

Jinx is his best friend and roommate, and he's been in love with her for as long as he can remember. That aside, she's also determined to put Ekko in an early grave.

rating: explicit

word count: 9248

crossposted to ao3

Ekko opens the door to his apartment with a tired sigh. He was forced to witness Jayce and Viktor butt heads for two hours on the environmental pros and cons of using solar energy to power their project as if they didn’t have to present it next week.

He can’t wait to get this stupid collaboration over with so he can go back to working on his own projects where he doesn’t have to deal with this kind of shit on a near-daily basis.

“Oh, you’re back. Hey!” Jinx greets from the kitchen.

At the sight of her, he nearly drops his keys. She’s standing with her back facing him, wearing only a t-shirt. Specifically his t-shirt. And because she’s standing on her toes – stretching one of her arms to reach for the top shelf of the cabinet – the fabric rides up, exposing her ass adorned in delicate, black lace.

Ekko briefly feels his soul leave his body. Great, now he gets to deal with this shit instead.

-

You see, Ekko had made the mistake of agreeing to go to a bar with Jinx and her friends so he could drive them back home if she got too wasted.

And because Jinx had some of the worst friends on the planet, one of them had the gall to ask him, “So Ekko, do you consider yourself an ass or boobs guy?”

“Never talk to me again," was his only response before Jinx smacked his arm. He frowned at her. "What?"

"Don't be rude and answer Dustin's question," she insisted, clearly already drunk herself if the rosy color of her cheeks was anything to go off.

"Why do you care?" He sighed, exasperated.

Dustin snickered, "Because she has no tits– Ouch." In response, Jinx kicked his shin underneath the table.

"Shut the fuck up. You can walk home." Ignoring the way Dustin whined in protest across the table, Jinx turned back to Ekko. "So which is sexier?"

Ekko felt like he was walking into a trap, so he took a long, deliberate sip of his water before he set down the glass and answered, "It doesn't matter, all women are beautiful."

She snorted. "You're so full of shit." Before Ekko could protest, she hummed in consideration and continued, "What about me, then? Am I sexy?"

"Again," Ekko rubbed his temple in exhaustion because fuck, he could've used a drink too but unfortunately he was the one driving, "why do you care?"

"Well, why are you," she removed the straw from her cocktail and used it to accusingly point at him, ignoring the way liquid dripped over the table, "being so cagey about it? It's just a yes-or-no question."

Ran, who until then was perfectly content ignoring them, jumped in and said, "Maybe the answer is no and he's sparing your feelings. Take the loss."

Jinx's head whirled back in Ekko's direction and she glared at him. "Oh, so I'm not sexy?"

After contemplating ditching all of them and just driving home by himself, he decided against it and deadpanned, "I literally didn't say anything."

"Your silence speaks volumes." She scoffed.

And at that point, Ekko considered it a lost cause and just let her assume whatever she wanted. Because Ekko did think Jinx was sexy. That didn't mean he was about to tell her that though.

He's known her since he was twelve. They became fast friends and Ekko fell just as fast. As they got older, it progressed from just an innocent crush where his stomach did flips when she smiled at him, to this salacious desire. 

She'd throw her head back and laugh, and he couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to see her head thrown back in a different context. He’d catch himself staring at her lips, wondering what it’d be like to put his on hers. And he’d think about her at night, imagining her hands were touching him instead.

But when anyone questioned their relationship, Jinx was very adamant in insisting that they were just friends– best friends even – and that their being in any sort of romantic relationship would be weird. So Ekko buried these feelings and kept them to himself, perfectly content with just being her friend. 

He thought he’d get over it eventually, even tried dating different people to no avail. He was still hung up on the one person he’d never get to be with, and after that eventful evening, said person seemed determined to put him in an early grave.

It started off fairly mild, he didn’t even realize what was happening. 

At first, she walked around in low-hanging sweatpants and a sports bra. His eyes were drawn to the pale, lean skin of her stomach before he snapped them back up to her face. He wasn’t some horny teenager anymore, get it the fuck together, Ekko. It just caught him off-guard because he was used to Jinx walking around their apartment in large hoodies and baggy sweats.

“You going to work out?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m just more comfortable like this,” she answered, leaning forward over the table and giving him a clear view of her cleavage, which he avoided looking at like it was an Olympic sport. “It’s really hot, you know?”

He frowned in confusion. “It’s November.”

She huffed a frustrated breath. “So what? We’re indoors.”

“Okay…Well, I’m off to take a shower.”

The next…incident was the following morning. 

Jinx and Ekko had pretty clear agreements on their showering arrangement. He’d shower in the evening and she would shower in the morning so they’d never conflict with the other person’s schedule. Since he was an early riser unlike her, he’d wake up in the morning and take care of his business in the bathroom while leaving her plenty of time to shower afterward.

He was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when he caught Jinx entering behind him through the mirror. However, it was currently six a.m. which wasn’t a time she’d typically be awake at. His brows furrowed in confusion and he turned his head to figure out if he was seeing things– before he almost choked on his toothbrush.

Because what he didn’t catch in the mirror was what she was wearing. Or what she wasn’t wearing for lack of a better term. Clad in only a towel, she walked in and curiously turned her head to Ekko, who currently looked like he couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“Oh, good morning." She grinned, apparently unaware of the fact that she nearly killed him right then and there. “I decided to try your morning person bullshit for once.”

Whatever she just told him did not register because he was still caught up in her state of undress. She’d put her hair up in a bun, exposing the graceful line of her neck and the slope of her spine, the vision getting cut off by a fluffy, white towel covering the rest of her backside. 

However, that towel barely reached her upper thighs. Ekko’s eyes were drawn to the faint freckles on the back of her thighs and to the way the towel only barely covered her ass. Slightly hysterical, he wondered whether all their bigger towels were currently in the laundry or some shit.

“Ekko?” His eyes snapped up to her face, and he saw her lips rise in a cheeky smile. Shit, she definitely caught him. “Are you going to leave or do you want to watch me shower?”

Yes. He desperately thought, trying to ignore the fact that his blood was most definitely rushing south at the moment. Was this a goddamn wet dream? He was way too old for that shit. 

With his last remaining thread of sanity, he quickly turned around and rinsed his mouth, before rushing out of the bathroom. He may have needed to go for a cold morning shower that day as well, given the half-hard state his dick was in.

It was only after the third incident that Ekko connected the dots. 

He came home to eat lunch, as he and Jinx would occasionally do if their schedules aligned. It had been a productive morning at work, so he entered the apartment cheerfully humming a tune. However, when he caught sight of Jinx in their living room, he abruptly stopped, and nearly dropped the sandwiches he'd bought them.

His eyes were laser-focused on one of Jinx's thighs, which she'd hiked up on the couch as she pulled a stocking over it and then secured it with a garter belt. 

In contrast to her pale skin, the lingerie set she had on was bright pink. Of course it was. That was her favorite color. And it looked so fucking good on her that Ekko was rapidly losing the ability to pick his jaw off the floor.

She turned to him with a grin. As if she wasn't currently on full display for him in nothing but underwear. "Oh, you're back! So what's for lunch?"

"What the fuck?" was the only response he was able to muster, his brain short-circuiting at the sight of Jinx in the middle of their apartment, wearing nothing but scraps of lace, as if this was just a normal thing she did every single Wednesday.

"I went shopping." She did a little twirl for him, which revealed that she was wearing a thong too. "Do I look good?"

Why the fuck was she asking him that? Had he died or something? Because there was no way this was real. At this point, he was waiting for Ashton Kutcher or some shit to walk out of his bathroom and tell him he got Punk'd.

Waiting on his answer, she crossed her arms. The movement drew his attention to her scantily clad chest. She was wearing a longline bra with a little bow at the center. It pushed her breasts up, giving him an ample view of her cleavage. The lace was transparent enough that he could see a peek of her nipples through it and it made him want to take it off and–

Ekko was done for. 

After recovering the ability to speak he asked, "Why are you trying on your underwear in the living room?"

"The lighting is better and there's a big mirror here," she reasoned.

Which had to be some of the dumbest shit Ekko had ever heard because she wasn't even standing anywhere near that mirror and he knew she had a full-body mirror in her room as well.

He raised an eyebrow at her flawed logic. "So you decided to try on lingerie at the exact moment you knew I'd be home because of the lighting?"

"Yeah, what does it matter?" She shrugged and reached for the shopping bag on the couch, pulling out a transparent babydoll dress. "Thought I wasn't sexy anyway?"

Something clicked in Ekko's head at her words, and now, he was speechless for an entirely different reason. That was it? That was the reason Jinx had been blue balling him for three consecutive days now? It was because he wouldn't say she was sexy. 

Aside from the heat of arousal, anger began to boil inside of him as well. This was insane and incredibly stupid, but really, he should've expected no less from Jinx after knowing her for so long. 

And because Ekko was now pissed and had clearly lost his mind as well, he dug himself into a deeper grave by being incredibly petty and responding, "You're right. I guess it doesn't matter."

He’d definitely set himself up to suffer but it was almost worth the nonplussed look on Jinx’s face as Ekko casually set their lunch down on the table and said, “Damn, I forgot to buy drinks. Do we still have some in the fridge?”

The sight of Jinx standing there, still holding that damn babydoll dress and looking at him like he’d gone insane was almost comical. But Ekko was now determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing she turned him on.

So adding fuel to the fire, he curiously raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you going to eat lunch like that, or do you want to put on some clothes first?”

“Huh?” As if she’d snapped out of a trance, Jinx quickly put away the babydoll dress. “Right. I’ll just…put these away and be right back.” 

She scurried off to her room and Ekko definitely stared at her ass the entire way there, but she had her back turned to him so she didn’t need to know. Just as she didn’t need to know that he took advantage of this opportunity to quickly run to the bathroom and take care of himself before she noticed the effect she had on him when she came back.

-

This deranged tug-of-war where she would act wildly inappropriate in their apartment, while he pretended to be unfazed, has been going on for two weeks now. 

Ekko has never considered his libido unusually high but the number of cold showers he’d taken and frustrated jerk-off sessions he’s had these last two weeks might beg to differ. And none of it even helps because Jinx will just do something else to get him worked up all over again.

However, for the last two days, she’s been acting surprisingly normal. No inappropriate outfits, breaching his personal space more than usual, or sexual innuendos (usually all at the same time). Just his normal friend and roommate who’d lay upside down on the couch in oversized hoodies while playing Animal Crossing and who may occasionally demand hugs if she's feeling affectionate.

And maybe Ekko should've been more worried about this fact. It felt like the calm before the storm. But he was so preoccupied with this project that he couldn't bring himself to worry about it. So of course, he had to come back home to this. He can't even be surprised that she's pulling this shit again. But now even using his clothes for it? That is just unfair.

His eyes quickly snap up to her face as she turns to him with a grin. "So how was work?"

Rather than answering her question, he sighs and asks, "Why are you wearing my t-shirt?"

"My stuff's in the laundry and I didn't think you’d care if I wore one of yours." Her hands grip the hem of his shirt and he tracks the movement distrustfully. "But if it bothers you so much, I'll take it off." 

Ekko doesn't think he's ever moved as fast in his life, but he's out of the hallway and in the kitchen in record time, quickly grabbing her forearms to stop her movements as she's already pulled the shirt halfway up, her midriff exposed to him.

The shirt is too large for her, and pulling it up reveals how small she looks beneath it. And it’s not as if he never knew how lithe her body is – with a waist almost small enough for Ekko to wrap both his hands around. 

The fact that she’s wearing a shirt that’s too big for her, however, amplifies this fact. His eyes travel from the curve of her waist down her lean stomach and to the jut of her hips, wrapped in black lace, contrasting her pale skin– 

And Ekko realizes he's staring, so he quickly snaps his eyes back up to her face and sees Jinx smirking at him. Shit, she definitely knows he was staring too.

He makes an effort to keep his expression as neutral as possible, despite the fact that he's more akin to a deer caught in the headlights at the moment. 

"Fine then, keep it." He shrugs, pulling her arms and his shirt back down so she, at the very least, doesn’t drive him mad even more by walking around half-naked. "It's not a big deal."

Jinx narrows her eyes at him, her nose scrunching with the furrow of her eyebrows. Ekko knows that expression and has some concerns. Because it means she's plotting something, and it won't end well for him if the last two weeks are anything to go off.

Eventually, she just huffs a breath and turns back to the counter. "Cool, well I'm making dinner. You want any?"

After deliberating what she could possibly be up to, he suspiciously responds, “...Nah, I already ate.” 

He’s on guard for the rest of the evening, but aside from her state of undress, she acts surprisingly normal. They talk about their days, crack stupid jokes, swap ideas, and sit down on the couch to play video games while Jinx bitches about her sister-in-law. She throws her legs over his lap as they sit on the couch, but that’s not unusual for them. 

It’s also miles better than all the times the past two weeks where she decided to plop down right on his fucking lap, while he pretended not to care and furiously tried to solve math formulas in his head to not get an erection.

So he decides to relax, and after taking a shower, Ekko plops down on his bed with a tired sigh. At least he got a peaceful evening but he still needs all the rest he can get. Work and the torture Jinx has decided to put him through are doing a number on him so he's beat. 

After checking his alarm clocks, he puts his phone on his nightstand and gets beneath his blankets. At least he can catch a break when he's asleep.

-

In retrospect, you could argue he – pun intended – jinxed it. 

Ekko's a light sleeper, so he’s instantly awake when he feels a tap on his shoulder and hears a whisper of "Hey, are you asleep?" 

He sighs, deeply exhausted. A man can’t even catch a break when he’s trying to sleep. With a tired groan, he reluctantly opens his eyes. “Not anymore, thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome!” she cheerfully replies, pulling back the blanket and plopping down on his bed. “Now let me sleep here. The heater broke in my room and I’m freezing my ass off.”

“What?” At that, he instantly jolts awake. “Hell no.”

“Don’t be so stingy.” She scoffs, ignoring him and crawling into his bed anyway. “What if I die of hypothermia or something? You’ll lose your best friend and would have to pay rent all by yourself.”

She lies down beside him, her feet brushing against his, and Ekko curses, “Fuck– Your feet are like ice!”

“That’s why I’m saying you should let me sleep here!” she insists as if she didn’t just ignore his protests and got in his bed anyway.

“Just sleep on the couch.”

“Rude.” She grabs one of his free pillows and smacks him with it. “I don’t pay rent to freeze my ass off.”

“Maybe your ass wouldn’t be freezing if you covered it with some clothes.”

“Telling me what to wear? Sexist of you.”

He shoots her an unimpressed look and gets out of bed. “Okay fine, I’ll sleep on the couch then.”

She grabs his arm and pulls him back with a frustrated groan. “Ugh, just sleep in your own bed.” She suspiciously squints at him. “Why are you so bothered about sharing a bed with your unsexy friend anyway?"

"First of all, it's because you kick in your sleep," he deadpans, "and second of all, if I call you sexy will you finally leave me alone?"

"First of all, that's when I was eleven. People change." She rolls her eyes. "And second of all, no because it wouldn't be sincere."

He sighs. “Okay fine, we can both sleep here under one condition.”

She perks up. “Sure, sure. What is it?”

Several minutes later, Jinx lies on her back beside him. Ekko can almost sense her unimpressed expression even though he can’t see her over the stack of pillows lined between them.

“You have to be joking right now," she grumbles.

“Nope. My bed, my rules.”

“The blanket’s barely even covering me with all these pillows between us!” she complains, smacking one of them in frustration.

“Then get your own blanket,” Ekko groans. Maybe he should’ve moved in with Scar instead, but he figured living with Jinx was easier than living with a single father and his baby. He now realizes he was very wrong. 

He tries to close his eyes and fall asleep, but it proves to be a challenge when he hears Jinx tossing and turning on the other side of his bed.

“This won’t do,” she eventually says, “I’m a sleep cuddler, I can’t sleep like this.”

“Cuddle with a pillow, there’s plenty right next to you,” he replies, too annoyed to so much as open his eyes at this point.

For a moment it’s completely silent, and at her lack of response, Ekko heaves a tired sigh and tries to will himself to sleep. This entire debacle woke him up. Luckily he doesn’t have anywhere to be in the morning, but he’s naturally an early riser regardless of the time he goes to sleep. 

However, he should’ve known better than to expect the blessed silence to last because he already knows Jinx is still awake when he feels the mattress shift beneath her movements.

"Is it really such a big deal?" she asks, her voice uncharacteristically quiet. "There's nothing weird about admitting your friends are sexy."

Ekko's exhausted and must not be thinking straight because of the sexually frustrating roller coaster the last two weeks of his life have been. That can be the only logical explanation as to why that simple question, as opposed to all the ways she's been working him up, proves to be the final straw.

So he moves a pillow away, turning his head so he can look her straight in the eye as reveals something he’d otherwise be content to bottle up for the rest of his life.

“If I told you you're sexy,” despite the steady cadence of his voice,  he can hear his heart hammering in his ears, "I wouldn't be telling you as a friend."

For a moment she just stares at him, her expression unreadable. Ekko feels dread rise in the pit of his stomach. He’s not entirely sure what her angle was this entire time, but maybe this isn’t what she wanted to hear and he just ruined a lifelong friendship.

He doesn’t know what reaction to expect but it certainly isn’t for Jinx to smack all the pillows off the bed and hover over him, placing both her hands beside his head for support. 

And Ekko can see her mental gears working, her mouth closing and opening over and over again as she still tries to process what he just told her. It would make him laugh if he wasn’t too apprehensive to do so at the moment.

“Okay,” she eventually responds, her voice breathy, “then don’t say it as a friend.”

And now it’s his turn to be speechless, he’s feeling so much at once he can barely process it all – surprise, relief, elation, nerves, excitement – but he ends up settling on confusion. 

“Wait. What the fuck were the last couple of weeks about then?” He raises an eyebrow. 

Jinx looks at him like he’s insane, which arguably he might’ve gone over these two weeks but it’s still a valid question. 

“Ekko,” she starts, clearly confused as well, “why the fuck would I walk around in lingerie for you if I didn’t want you?”

He’s baffled at her response. His irritation flares again and he argues, “You told me it was for the lighting or some bullshit!”

“And you believed that?!” She challenges.

“No! But I don’t know what that fucking means, Jinx! Use your words.”

“Well,” she grumbles, averting her eyes, “you wouldn’t say I was sexy so I thought…maybe you didn’t want me.”

He sighs, deeply exhausted from what has most certainly been the dumbest experience of his life. There are still a lot of things he wants to say and ask, but for now, he’s established that the attraction is mutual and Jinx has been getting him worked up for a purpose. And she achieved her goal because Ekko wants and she’s right on top of him, wearing his fucking t-shirt of all things. 

Finally giving in to the desire, he wraps his hands around her neck, pulling her head down and pressing his mouth against hers. She makes a noise of surprise before she relaxes into the kiss, sighing as he moves his lips against hers. He licks her lips and she opens her mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue in.

Jinx leans down until she's laying with her chest pressed flush against his, slinging a thigh over his hip. Ekko moves his hands, wrapping an arm around her waist, and using his other hand to firmly grab her hip and pull her closer until she's properly straddling him. 

The position causes their centers to align, and he feels her quietly gasp against his mouth. But she otherwise doesn't break the kiss, taking advantage of the angle to softly undulate her hips against his. His arousal stirs at the feel of her heat against him, his head spinning from desire and his blood traveling south. 

Her lips feel soft as they move against his, the occasional brush of her tongue further stoking the heat of his arousal. She kisses him so eagerly that Ekko feels like he can't breathe. And he can tell she's no better above him, letting out quiet gasps of pleasure against his mouth while continuing the gyration of her hips down on his growing hardness. 

Her obvious excitement makes him grow bolder. His hands traverse her body, slipping underneath her shirt (which is actually his shirt) to tease her spine – enjoying the soft feel of her skin – before he wraps them around her waist to support her movements. 

Fuck. He was right. Her waist is almost small enough for him to completely wrap his hands around it.

It's almost a surreal experience – kissing Jinx – it's something he's wanted to do for so long, but he had no expectations of it ever happening. He didn't think she wanted him the same way he wanted her, yet here they are, in his bed because Jinx has apparently been trying to seduce him–

The gears in Ekko's head start to turn, and a sudden bout of clarity cuts through the haze of lust, making him abruptly break the kiss. He places his hands on her hips to still her movements, before shooting her an unimpressed look

She blinks above him, looking dazed before she eventually frowns, confused. "What?"

"Your heater isn't actually broken, is it?"

"Hm," she looks contemplative before she shoots him an impish grin, "who knows?"

He groans in exasperation, his head falling back against the pillow. "You're insane."

She hums in consideration, leaning down to press light kisses against the exposed skin of his neck. "Insanely sexy?"

Jinx firmly sucks at the skin of his neck and grazes over it with her teeth. Ekko groans, not entirely sure if it's because of her ministrations or in aggravation. 

"Yeah, yeah. You're sexy," he finally admits, "and a fucking pain in the ass."

She lays one final kiss on his jaw before looking back at him and joking, "Wow, I didn't know you were into that, but if that's what you want."

He rolls his eyes and because he's petty, he gives her ass one firm smack. She yelps and complains, "Thought you wanted me to be a pain in your ass?"

"You already are," he rebukes, "this is payback. You've been killing me for two whole weeks now."

"Oh, poor thing." She pats his cheek condescendingly, clearly not very apologetic at all. He shoots her an unimpressed look and watches as the corners of her mouth rise before she says, "Did I give you a hard time?"

"Shut up," he grumbles while Jinx cackles. 

She comes down from her amusement. Supporting her hands on his shoulders, Jinx heaves herself upright. She’s still smiling as she looks down at him, her eyes fond as her hands travel from his shoulders down his chest. “Since it’s my fault, it’s only fair I help you out.”

And maybe Ekko really is weak, because her looking at him like that is all it takes for him to feel hot all over again. She leisurely moves her hands down his chest and sneaks one beneath his shirt. Her nails lightly graze his abdomen, and he shivers at the featherlight touch. 

“Can you take off your shirt for me?” The words barely left her mouth before he shoots upright to pull his shirt over his head, throwing it aside. Jinx looks startled before she snorts, using her hand to cover her mouth.

He sighs. “Don’t say it.”

She shakes her head and clears her throat, her face uncharacteristically serious. “I didn’t say anything.”

He stares at her suspiciously, and she inevitably breaks, bursting into laughter again. He rolls his eyes and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. 

“What did you fucking expect?” His hands move down to her ass, using the grip to move her hips against his. “You’ve been driving me insane for two weeks.”

She’s still laughing even though friction makes her moan. And she’s so fucking pretty like that, straddling his lap with her head thrown back as she laughs and lets out sounds of pleasure for him. 

And Ekko wants her so bad– has always wanted her. But now she’s actually here and she wants him too. It’s so surreal to him, he’s half-convinced that he might have actually just died at some point. 

He uses the access she unintentionally granted him to kiss her neck. He lets go of her ass, content to let her control the pace while his hands snake under her shirt again, exploring the soft skin there and working his way up and up, until he’s pulled the shirt over her chest. 

He looks at her breasts – perky, and small enough to fit in his mouth, with rosy nipples – and thinks they’re gorgeous. He thinks every part of her is gorgeous, much to his own detriment. 

The last two weeks certainly were a trial on Ekko’s self-control, to say the least, but he’s nothing if not patient. So he’s content to luxuriate in the feel of soft skin beneath his hands, appreciating the curves and edges of her body before slowly teasing the underside of her breasts.

“Why are you being such a tease?” she whines, biting her lower lip in frustration.

He arches an eyebrow, giving her an unimpressed look. “That’s rich coming from you.” 

“I’m allowed to be a tease,” she pouts, “it’s not fair when you do it.” 

He rolls his eyes and grabs the hem of his shirt, pushing it against her mouth. “Hold this so I don’t have to hear any more of your bullshit.”

“Rude.” The response is muffled with his shirt caught between her teeth. Despite her protests, she still holds it there though, allowing Ekko to continue touching her as he pleases. 

Deciding he has at least some mercy for her plight (unlike herself) he moves forward and takes one of her breasts in his mouth. He hears her whine above him, her noises muffled by his shirt as he sucks her areola, teasing her nipple with his tongue. 

She has one hand on his shoulder, using it to support herself above him. Her other hand wanders down his chest, briefly flicking his nipple – the touch making him moan against her breast – before it wanders down and down. She stops at his pelvis and briefly teases the waistband of his sweats before her hand moves further down, brushing against the outline of his hardness tenting through his pants.

He sharply inhales through his nose at the touch, but otherwise lets her do as she pleases. He moves his mouth to her other breast, making sure to lavish it with the same attention while Jinx firmly palms his hard length. 

The touch makes his hips buck up outside of his control, his teeth accidentally graze her nipple and he’s about to apologize when he hears her moan above him. So curiously, he continues to tease it between his teeth, her chest beginning to rise and fall with shallow breaths.

She releases his cock, dropping the shirt from her teeth, so she can bring her hand up to her mouth and lick the palm of it. She grasps the shirt between her teeth again before reaching down and slipping her fingers beneath the waistband of his pants. She tugs back his underwear so she can wrap her hand around his cock. The sensation makes Ekko groan against her breast, the vibrations causing her grip on his shoulder briefly tighten.

She twists her wrist from the shaft to the sensitive underside of the head as she slowly strokes the length of his cock. She moves the tip of her thumb to the head, teasing the sensitive slit there and spreading precum all over the head.

He moans at the pleasurable sensation of her hand on him, his thighs twitching whenever she teases the head. Her hand is much smaller than his own, and she occasionally loses her pace because of his mouth on her breast. But the fact that it’s Jinx’s hand on his cock alone is enough to make it feel amazing.

As she continues to stroke his hard length, Ekko decides to even the playing field. Wrapping one hand around the small of her waist to keep her steady, the other trails down her back, his knuckles brushing against her spine as he trails lower until he reaches her ass. He gives it one firm squeeze before his fingers trail down to her clothed center.

He teases her with his fingers, his cock twitching in interest when he feels how warm and wet she already is. He slides the damp, lacy fabric of her panties to the side so he can touch her folds directly. The heat radiating from her center, making Ekko dizzy at the thought of burying his cock into it.

He coats his fingers with her wetness, spreading it all over her folds and eventually moving forward to tease her sensitive nub. Jinx cries out at the touch, his shirt falling from her lips. He feels her chest rise and fall against his mouth more rapidly. Her touch on his cock becomes less focused, only lightly stroking him as she's too distracted to do much more than that.

He teases her entrance with his finger, pulling the digit back when he feels her hips buck back against it. He hears her huff a frustrated breath through her nose before she moves her hands to cup his cheeks. 

His mouth is yanked from her breast with a wet plop, a string of saliva breaking off where his mouth was connected to her skin. His head is pushed back, allowing him to properly see her face. She frowns down at him, lips red, her cheeks flushed and her pupils dilated from lust. 

She sounds breathy and strung up as she says, "I told you to stop being such a tease."

Ekko feels another tug of arousal in the pit of his stomach at how debauched she already looks from just a few touches. 

And really, he should be much more of a tease considering all torture she put him through. But he's always had a weak spot for her. So he just pulls her closer, placing light, apologetic kisses on her jawline before he teases her entrance again. 

He slowly inserts his finger, and she lets out a quiet moan as his finger sinks deeper into her heat. He groans at how tight she already feels when he’s only put one finger inside of her.

Placing her hands on his shoulders for support again, she whines, "Hmm…give me more." And what could Ekko possibly do other than oblige? 

He hums and continues to lay gentle kisses on her jaw, working his way down to her neck so he can suck at the sensitive skin there. He coats his index finger with her slick and slowly inserts it as well, moving his fingers against her inner walls until he finds the spot that makes her clench down hard.

He continues to fuck her with his fingers, intoxicated from the way her walls clench down on him and she grinds back against his hand. She's panting above him, releasing breathy moans while she squeezes his shoulders so hard that he can feel her nails digging into his flesh, her thighs trembling with the effort to support her.

One of her hands slides down from his shoulder to her clit, rubbing the sensitive bud while continuing to move her hips back against his fingers. 

"Mmm, Ekko…you're going to make me come," she moans, leaning her forehead against his, their faces so near he can feel her panting against his mouth.

He groans in response, his fingers moving faster inside of her, and he's surprised at how guttural his voice is when he responds, "Fuck– Come for me."

She squeezes her eyes shut and frantically nods, speeding up the movement of her own hand against her clit, her sounds of pleasure echoing through his room. His gaze bores into her as she gets closer to the edge. She looks so fucking good like this, he thinks he could look at her for the rest of his life. 

Eventually, she stills completely, her mouth opening in a soundless scream as her hips continue to sporadically buck back against his hand. He groans at the feel of her walls clenching down and throbbing around his fingers.

She slumps down against him, leaning her head on his shoulder while breathing hard from the physical exertion. Ekko stills the motions of his hand, slowly pulling his fingers out of her pussy. He hears her let out a quiet whine as he does, but she otherwise doesn't move, still slumped against him.

He waits for her to come down, brushing her hair aside so he can lay light kisses against her neck in the meantime. Eventually, she sits up straight again and cups his face between her hands, leaning forward to press her mouth against his.

She continues to lean forward while kissing him, he follows her movements until he's leaning back on his forearms. Jinx breaks the kiss and grabs onto his hand, still coated with her juices. 

She wraps her lips around the digits and licks off her own juices with a curious hum, her tongue pressing against the pads of his fingers. Ekko feels like his soul left his body at the action, deliriously turned on at this point.

"Hm, doesn't taste gross." She shrugs, letting go of his hand and shooting him a devious smile. "Want a taste too?"

He lets out a guttural sound and nods, unable to formulate a more coherent response. Her smile deepens and she lets go of his hand. She leans forward to kiss him again, and he groans at the heady taste of her arousal, still present on her lips. 

Before he can deepen the kiss, she separates their mouths and lays kisses all over his jaw instead. Her lips work their way to his ear, grazing her teeth against the lobe before she whispers, “Do you want to fuck me?”

Ekko lets out a shaky breath, his cock twitching in interest at the question. He groans, turning his head so their lips meet again. His tongue slips between her lips and she lets out a satisfied hum as his lips move against hers.

She breaks the kiss and laughs. "I'll take that as a yes."  

She heaves herself upright and moves off his hips. She slips her hands beneath the shirt and hooks her thumbs around the waistband of her panties, slipping them down her thighs.

Ekko eagerly follows, raising his hips off the bed to pull down his pants and boxers in a singular motion, kicking them off his legs once they're down far enough.

Jinx flings her panties to the side after she's finished taking them off. She reaches for the hem of his shirt next, but Ekko grabs her hand to stop her. She looks back at him, curiously raising an eyebrow.

"Keep it on," he insists, enthralled by the sight of her in his bed, disheveled and wearing nothing but his t-shirt, with her nipples peaked through the fabric, and dark marks blooming on her pale neck because he left them there.

She shoots another annoying, cheeky smile his way and asks, “Why?”

And really, what’s the point of fronting anymore? Ekko has made his attraction very clear, he’s turned on out of his mind, and it’s clearly mutual. So he sits up straight and pulls her closer until she moves to straddle him again.

“Because,” he starts, both moaning when the position presses their hips together, “you look so good, I want to fuck you while you wear it.”

She abruptly stops smiling and leans forward to kiss him again, grinding down on his hardness. He groans, his hands automatically squeezing her hips at the feel of her slick heat sliding directly against his cock. 

She breaks the kiss and nods. “Okay, then let me.” She puts her hands on his shoulders to push him down. Ekko obediently follows, lying back against the mattress while she straddles him.

She grabs the hem of his shirt, moving it up her hips so it doesn’t get in the way as she continues to grind down on him, giving him a clear view of her pussy moving against his hardened length, coating him with her wetness. She raises her thighs off the bed and grasps his cock, lining it against her entrance. Just as he feels his tip brush her entrance, he abruptly remembers their lack of protection. 

“Wait,” she curiously looks back up at him, halting her movements, “should I grab a condom?”

“I’m on birth control and I got tested last month.” She shrugs. “And you?”

He nods, letting out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, I’m clean too.”

“Good,” she smirks, leaning forward to whisper against his mouth, “because I want to feel you come in me.”

“You’re killing me here,” he groans while she moves back up, laughing at his response.

They both moan when his head brushes against her entrance again. This time she doesn’t stop, sinking down on his cock until he’s completely buried inside of her. She’s warm and wet around him, squeezing down on his cock so tightly that his hips buck up against hers, outside of his control.

She moans, raising herself on her knees so only the tip of his cock is left inside of her. She slams back down and they both moan at the sensation, Ekko moves his hands back to squeeze her hips as she continues to fuck herself on his length. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he grunts, his hands moving to pull the shirt up so he can touch her body. She lets out another moan at the compliment, her walls squeezing down on him in response.

She continues to ride him, her hips slamming down with a punishing pace while he’s content to watch her. It’s addictive to look at her like this, bouncing on top of him, her mouth open and her face scrunched up in pleasure as she works herself into a frenzy on his lap.

His hands slip the shirt up further so he can touch her breasts, her hips briefly stuttering when he rolls one of her nipples between his fingers. Jinx moves her hands to the wall behind him for support as she increases her pace.

The action makes Ekko acutely aware of the fact his headboard is slamming back against his wall and that Jinx is very vocal. And he briefly worries about a very embarrassing noise complaint from their neighbors, but then her walls squeeze down on his cock again and he can only think about the pleasurable sensation of being inside of her.

Her chest is heaving and he can see her thighs beginning to tremble from the exertion. So he moves his hands down to her hips, firmly placing his feet against the bed so he can fuck back into her.

She gasps, moving her hands back to his shoulders to support herself on top of him. “Mmm Ekko,” she whines, her voice breathless, “right there…That’s so fucking good, oh my god.”

He groans, her vocalizations spurring him to increase his pace, focusing on the spot that’s driving her wild. Eventually, he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her flush against him, using the support to roll them over in bed until he’s on top of her.

Ekko grabs her legs, pulling them over his shoulders so he can set his hands beside her on the bed for support as he continues to fuck into her, his pace punishing. Jinx cries out beneath him, one hand moving up to the headboard to keep steady as he continues to pound into her. She moves her other hand down to her clit, rubbing against the sensitive nub to push herself closer to the edge.

“Oh, fuck, Ekko,” she moans, “you’re going to make me come.”

“Yes,” he groans, keeping his thrusts deep and steady, “come for me.”

She frantically nods, her mouth opening in a soundless scream and her back arching off the bed as she comes around his cock. He grunts at the feel of her walls squeezing down on him. She’s so tight around him that he sees white for a moment, feeling the familiar buildup of his own climax. 

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly and slows his pace, willing himself to prolong the moment a little longer despite his body’s own protests. He releases a shuddery breath and stills for a moment while Jinx continues to come down from her orgasm. She whines when he pulls out of her entirely.

“Ekko?” she blearily questions, as he guides her to lie on her stomach. “What are you…” She trails off in realization when he takes advantage of the position to raise her hips off the bed. Her thighs still tremble in the aftermath of her orgasm while her knees are forced to support them in this position, but she doesn’t protest, allowing him to handle her body as he pleases. 

He trails his hands down her back, addicted to the sight of her body like this. His shirt bunched up from the natural pull of gravity, exposing how her back arches off the bed, and her ass – round and perky – is raised up for him. He can properly see how soaking wet she is from this position, her slick streaking her thighs.

He lines himself up with her entrance, completely burying his cock inside of her in a single, smooth thrust. The position allows him to reach deeper inside of her than before, and he takes a deep breath before he holds onto her hips again, using the support to pound into her with an unforgiving pace.

Jinx cries out as he fucks into her, her sounds muffled as she’s buried her face into his pillow, holding onto it for support. The headboard slams against the wall again in time with his thrusts, but Ekko really can’t bring himself to care, tantalized by the smack of her ass against his hips as he desperately chases his own release.

When he feels the familiar clench in his core, he wraps his arms around Jinx’s waist, pulling her up so her back is flush against his chest. She’s boneless against him, her hand reaching back to grasp onto the back of his neck for support, while the other one desperately grabs onto his arm. There’s nothing to muffle her voice from this position, so she cries out freely as Ekko continues to drive himself into her with a rotating grind.

“Oh my god, Ekko,” she breathlessly cries, “that…feels…so…good. I’m– mmm…I’m going to come again.”

“Me too,” he grunts, turning his head forward so he can lay kisses against her jaw. She turns her head so their lips meet, kissing him back. He lowers one of his hands so he can tease her clit as he continues fucking into her. The added stimulation abruptly makes her break the kiss, unable to do more than pant against his mouth as she’s pushed closer and closer towards her peak.

“Fuck,” he moans when she tightens around him again, his head dizzy from the pleasure as he confesses against her lips, “I love you.”

Ekko hears her breath hitch while her body tenses against his. When he feels her pussy clamp down on him, he allows himself to let go and chase his own release. He feels it take over and course through his entire body.

His vision whites out and his mind is completely blank, unable to do anything other than unsteadily buck his hips against hers as he comes inside of her. Her own hips firmly pushing back against his as her tight walls squeeze every bit out of him.

When he comes back down from the throes of climax, he feels Jinx panting against him, her body weak and trembling against his. And he’s no better behind her, feeling relaxed and boneless now that he’s finished riding out his high.

With a grunt, he pulls out of her and gently lowers her back down on the bed. He watches his cum dribble out of her, her thighs still stained with her juices. Through the haze of pleasure, he has enough sense to reach for a tissue on his nightstand and gently clean her up. 

She whines at the sensation but allows him to do as he pleases. Too fucked out and boneless to do anything other than lie there. He carelessly tosses the tissue into a nearby bin and plops down beside her, so relaxed he could fall asleep like this.

“You…” his eyes blink open at the quiet sound of Jinx’s voice, his head turning to look at her. “You love me?” Her voice cracks as she asks it, and there’s a vulnerability to her expression that Ekko doesn’t often witness. It makes him feel nervous all over again. 

He hadn’t really intended to say it out loud. Especially not in the middle of an orgasm. It’s certainly true, and he’s already revealed so many truths about himself, yet this one is the most nerve-wracking.

He worries about what it’ll mean for their friendship if she doesn’t feel the same, and how he's supposed to respond if it turns out to be purely physical for her. But he’s already revealed all his cards, so all he can do is hope for the best outcome at this point.

“Yes,” he’s surprised at how steady his voice comes out, trying to sound casual despite the weight of what he’s about to admit, “I didn’t think I was subtle about it either. I’ve been in love with you since I was like twelve, Jinx.”

She doesn’t respond for a moment, looking like she’s about to cry and it makes dread rise in the pit of his stomach. 

“Jinx,” he quickly starts, “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same–”

He’s cut off when she leans forward and presses her lips against his. He lets out a startled sound against her mouth before he closes his eyes and kisses her back. She breaks the kiss, and despite the way Ekko can see that her eyes have started to water, she shoots him an ear-splitting grin. 

“Me too,” she says, leaning forward to press one more peck against his mouth, “I love you.”

He can’t control the way his own mouth rises up into a smile at her response, joy and relief coursing through him as the weight of holding back his feelings for half his life finally falls off his shoulders. And thinking about the convoluted way they got here, Ekko can’t stop himself from laughing.

Jinx looks at him like he’s gone insane, and he can’t blame her. They’re lying naked in his bed, having had sex after she spent two entire weeks blue balling the hell out of him, and post-orgasm they admit they’re in love with each other. And Ekko can’t stop laughing, his cheeks hurting and his stomach beginning to ache from it.

When he comes back down from it, she’s looking at him with fond befuddlement. “Mind telling me what’s so funny?”

“How stupid we are,” he clarifies, smiling at her fondly. “I think we did this out of order, but do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“Fuck, you’re right,” she laughs at the realization too, “and obviously I do.”

Jinx leans forward to lie on his chest, resting her head on his shoulder and comfortably snuggling against him. Ekko wraps an arm around her waist to hold her there, using his other hand to reach for the disheveled blanket so he can properly cover them with it.

For a moment they lie in comfortable silence, Ekko trying to calm himself down so he can fall asleep despite how exhilarated he feels at the moment. He blindly reaches for his phone, checking the time once he has proper hold of it. It’s three a.m. He’s truly going to have a horrible morning tomorrow, huh?

“So, which is it?” He hears Jinx ask against his shoulder, raising her head so she can properly look down on him.

“What?” he asks, setting his phone aside.

“Ass or boobs? I still can’t figure out which you like better.” 

He gives her an unimpressed look. Really, he should’ve seen this coming because he fell in love with a lunatic, unfortunately. 

“What! I’m being serious,” she insists, even though the way her shoulders shake as she bites her lower lip says the very opposite.

With a sigh, he decides to indulge her anyway. “Don’t care as long as they’re yours.” He reaches his hand up to brush her disheveled hair behind her ear. “I like everything about you.”

With a soft smile, she leans forward to give him another peck, before she breaks the kiss and snorts. “You’re so fucking corny.”

“Except your personality,” he elaborates, moving his hand to flick her nose with a scowl, “you’re a goddamn menace.”

She gasps, mock-offended. “This goddamn menace is your girlfriend now.”

“I know,” he smiles at her fondly, still so warm with happiness that he can’t even think of a quip to respond with.

Her eyes soften and she leans down to kiss him again, slinging her thigh over his hips as she moves her lips against his. He wraps both his arms firmly around her waist, pulling her closer on top of him. The movement causes their centers to align again, his cock stirring in interest at the feeling.

Clearly aware of it as well, Jinx breaks the kiss and whispers against his lips, “How about you show me all the things you like about me?” 

Unable to resist, Ekko rolls them over so he’s on top of her and presses their mouths together again. He really is going to have a horrible morning tomorrow, but at least it’ll be worth it.

#timebomb #ekkojinx #ekko #jinx #arcane #writing #fanfiction #modern au #smut #hungry posts

[beetlesandstarss]

Chapter 2: Shopping at 10 PM

To Be Loved For No Reason At All (Series)

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10

Summary: Eddie makes a show of jutting his chin as best he can, a smile tugging at his lips as he says over his Lunchables, “I’ll have you know these bad boys are delectable, Mr holier-than-thou.”

Notes: AAAH writing chapter three at the moment, will try to get it done tonight and post it tomorrow! It's my favourite so far, I am very much looking forward to posting it!

I'm graduating in like, two days so I apologise if chapter 4 is late!!!! will try to have it out by Friday :D

Chapter playlist: Cold Shower - Salem Al Fakir Working For The Weekend - Loverboy Window - Still Woozy 104 Degrees - Slaughter Beach, Dog

-

Steve’s stacking VHS tapes the next afternoon, thinking the previous night over. He’s severely hungover, and hopes that’s why the world feels slightly tipped on its axis. 

He hasn’t heard from Eddie since the two went their separate ways after the party, but like, that’s kind of expected. What was the guy supposed to do, come knocking on Steve’s door in the morning to let him know he’s alive and breathing? Yeah, fat chance of that. But a part of Steve still childishly wishes he had. 

It still hasn’t really sunk in. Finding Eddie in the bathroom. Having to - to revive him. That Eddie told him about his parents. That Steve was stupid enough to ask. Steve had always assumed it was a sore spot, since he never brought it up himself. He’d always thought Eddie had run away from home. He’s not sure why. But now Steve knows the real deal, the real story. It’s a secret he’ll take to his grave. 

He assumes he won’t hear from Eddie again until their next chance run-in, which is why he has to stop and blink for a full ten seconds when he sees Eddie’s car pull up in the driveway outside. 

Steve feels a smile tug at his lips as Eddie makes his way inside. He’s got his hands in his pockets, eyes glued to the floor. He’s wearing the same clothes as yesterday, except the shirt, which is some sort of Metal band merch, Steve thinks. The smile drops off his face as he gets closer. 

“Hey,” calls Steve, weary.

Eddie’s eyes snap to Steve’s. His eyes look bigger than ever, with dark bags weighing them down. He makes his way over to where Steve’s standing, next to a cart of unstacked VHS tapes. 

“Hi, so,” starts Eddie. He looks wound up tight, like something’s biting at his ass. “Shit, I don’t know how to say this, but, um. Are we cool, man?” 

Steve blinks. “Uh, yeah? Sure. We’re cool.”

Eddie nods, blinking fast. “Okay. Great, fantastic. Shit, okay. Good to know.”

They stand in tense silence for a second. 

Eddie explodes. “It’s just that word-vomit and literal-vomit are not the best ingredients for friendship - if we’re even friends, are we? Don’t answer that. I don’t even know why I came here. Fuck, I’m too hungover for this shit.” He rubs his eyes. “I feel, I feel that, yesterday is maybe, kind of, grounds enough for us to not be cool? And I know we had a moment but I’ve had my fair share of moments that are not really moments, and the next I know, I’m getting headbutted in the face, so? Are you a hundred percent sure we’re cool?”

Putting down the VHS tape he’s been holding awkwardly, Steve folds his arms into his chest. “I - yeah? But - you’re getting headbutted? Who’s headbutting you, man? Do I need to get my bat? It’s in the trunk of my car.” It is. He can’t bring himself to take it out. 

“What? No.” Eddie lowers himself to the floor, then springs right up again. All that manic energy, with nowhere to go. His eyes bore into Steve. “I’m asking if you plan to headbutt me anytime soon in the future. Or late in the future. Whichever. So that I can, y’know,” he gestures firmly with his hands, “Get out of your way.” 

Steve creases his eyebrows together. Gets this itching feeling he’s missing something, like Eddie’s trying to tell him something without spelling it out for him. But - well, Steve wasn’t popular in High School because he was the sharpest tool in the box. He gets by, but solving Eddie’s riddles hungover? No comprende. 

He also doesn’t like that this is where Eddie’s mind went, after last night. That Steve would for some reason have it out for him, for… being honest with him, or something. It doesn’t make any sense. He wishes Robin was here. She’d know what to do. Robin and Eddie are kind of buddies now, they started talking during the whole Watergate debacle. Where are you when I need you? 

“Listen,” Steve unfolds his arms. “I promise I am not planning to headbutt you, or like, hurt you at like, all? I thought you knew me better than that, Munson.” 

Eddie’s searching his face for something. “Yes, well. I just thought. That. I thought that. Shit, it doesn’t matter what I thought. So. Glad we’ve - talked. Sayonara. See ya.” 

“What?” asks Steve, but Eddie’s already speeding towards the door, and half a minute later, he’s pulling out of the driveway, music blaring. 

-

The rest of his shift was unbearable, a million questions clouding his mind, the most prominent of which were: who, why, when, and how the hell is Eddie Munson? 

He’s still mulling the afternoon over when he’s getting out of his car in the grocery store parking lot. He’s done that a lot, the past twenty-four hours. Thinking. Eddie brings out the best of him. Like his brain. 

It’s ten PM and the grocery store’s harsh light makes him squint. He wanders the produce aisle, wrinkling his nose at the stuff he doesn’t like (fucking kumquats), and looks consideringly at the stuff he does (strawberries). He grabs a box of strawberries, and heads for the snacks. Doubles back and grabs two more. 

On his way to the snacks, he grabs four ready meals. Who can be bothered to cook on any given day ever? Not Steve. 

In the snack aisle, he grabs a couple of bags of Doritos. Heads for the drinks. Grabs a couple of cokes. He’s reading the incomprehensible ingredients on the back of one of the cans when he turns around and walks right into someone’s back. 

“Ah, my bad,” he says, looking up. His eyebrows climb up his forehead, heart skipping a beat. “Hello,” he grins, can’t help himself. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

Eddie’s got Lunchables stacked up to his chin, and he looks so ridiculous Steve wishes desperately he could take a photo. “Uh,” says Eddie. “It’s not what it looks like?”

“Bulking for a rough winter?” Steve teases, putting the can he’d been holding into the cart he’d been dragging along behind him with the rest of his stuff. Pulls a hand through his hair, hoping it’s held its shape after today. 

Eddie makes a show of jutting his chin as best he can, a smile tugging at his lips as he says over his Lunchables, “I’ll have you know these bad boys are delectable, Mr holier-than-thou.” 

“Me? Holier-than-thou? I’m wounded.” Steve mimics getting shot in the heart, theatrically stumbling backwards. 

Eddie seems to bite the inside of his cheek. “Funny. Guess they didn’t call you a ladykiller for nothing.” 

“Ooh, double kill,” he says, clutching his chest. 

Eddie grins, kicks at Steve’s shoe. Steve marvels at the dimples in Eddie’s cheeks, kinda wants to poke them. What the hell?  

“So, uh. You just picking up Hawkins’ entire supply of Lunchables or…” 

Eddie gestures behind him. “That’s my stuff over there.” 

Steve looks at the cart behind him, parked next to the cookies. 

Steve looks back at Eddie. “That’s just beer.” 

“Yep.” 

“You are…” Steve searches for the right word. “Unbelievable.”

Eddie looks affronted. “Unbelievable? That’s rich, coming from the guy who’s buying -” Eddie peeks at Steve’s cart, “Doritos and strawberries en masse.” 

Steve’s a little bit obsessed with the way Eddie says Doritos. Like he just can’t tone down the theatricality. 

“They’re in season,” Steve justifies. 

“Don’t think Doritos have a season, Steve,” says Eddie. 

“God, shut up,” groans Steve, but he’s grinning from ear to ear and he’s so glad he decided to go grocery shopping at ten in the evening. Thinks he’d do it every day for the rest of his life if he could see Eddie like this. Steve quickly rewinds to that thought, thinks ? and pretends he didn’t think it. 

“Think you’d have to literally kill me to shut me up, Harrington,” says Eddie, gesturing with a nod that he’s grabbing his cart. As he’s turned around Steve has time to school his expression into something that doesn’t scream, yeah I think I might’ve possibly noticed that yesterday when I found you half-alive and not talking in a bathtub. He doesn’t think Eddie would appreciate it. 

When Eddie returns, arms now bereft of any and all Lunchables, cart now snug and full of said Lunchables, he sighs. Puts his hands on his waist, a bit like a mom. Standing there with their two carts, Steve suddenly feels violently suburban. He doesn’t hate it. 

“‘Kay. This was nice. Less awkward than it should’ve been, I think? Like, considering… everything?” says Eddie.

“So not awkward,” agrees Steve, and he means it. “Not at all.” 

A pause. Eddie tuts. “Well don’t make it awkward just to prove me wrong, dude. C’mon. Let’s get out of here.” 

Steve snorts and follows him to the only open register. 

When everything’s been paid for and bagged, the two stroll out of the store together. Steve knocks his plastic bag into Eddie’s. The air is warm out. Humid, almost. 

“Hey, uh,” Steve says. “Wanna go somewhere?”

Eddie gives him a quizzical look. “Go where? The gas station? We’re in Hawkins.” 

Steve kicks at him playfully. Eddie jumps away, smile playing on his lips. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” drawls Steve. “I was thinking maybe Skull Rock?”

Eddie stops, just to give Steve the full experience of him gaping at him. “Harrington - fuck you,” Eddie says, but he’s laughing, so Steve laughs too. 

“Kidding,” he cackles. Rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling shy. “I’ve got the keys to Family Video, so…” he trails off. 

“Yes, that tends to happen when you work somewhere,” says Eddie seriously. 

“Oh my God, put a sock in it,” says Steve. “What I meant by that was, we can watch a movie. If you’d like to.” Dropping the theatrics, he adds, “Your pick?” 

Eddie looks delighted. “Fuck yeah.”

-

Notes: Take a shot every time i say Lunchables

Actually don’t do that

#steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie x steve #steve #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie the freak munson

[no-droids]

Whenever You Want

Part Fourteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.2K

Warnings: Listen there is some dirty smut in this one yall okay like I was blushing when I wrote it, it has a very stark beginning and theres a pagebreak afterwards if you would prefer to skip over it. Smut includes oral sex (female receiving) rough sex, sensory deprivation, butt stuff (ass to mouth, anal fingering/penetration) so PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR IT PLEASE. Also there is jealous/possessive mando in this, season 1 Karga makes another appearance, and some angst/fluff towards the end

A/N: Nothing much today yoditos just love you all

***

Din said he’d meet you here.

You’re currently sitting across from Greef Karga in a cantina on Nevarro, a closed shield next to you and a blaster tucked into the back of your waistband, hidden underneath your shirt.  You’re barely even looking at him, though—your eyes are attached to the door by an invisible string, forcing your gaze back to it no matter how much it bounces around the room.

You don’t know where Din is, you haven’t seen him in hours.  But you do know that when he left, he was moving slower than you’re used to.  You don’t think anyone else would notice, but you sure did.  Not that he was obvious about it—you only picked up on very subtle hints.  Leaning up against things just a bit more than he usually does.  Taking slightly longer exiting the ramp of the Crest than his normal strides would carry him.

He didn’t say what he was going to do—just that he needed to find someone before meeting with Karga, and you accepted it.  But truthfully, you didn’t want to.  You were worried about him—still are, actually.  But for all intents and purposes, he was speaking and acting like himself, showing no real signs of exhaustion other than the smallest instances you described before, so you didn’t really have a leg to stand on.  He’s been through way worse, and you know it.  You just… find yourself worrying about him so much more than you used to, and you need to learn how to gain some control over that part of you.

The kid was still passed out from healing him and you remember Din carefully setting four pucks down in the sleeping baby’s sphere and giving his ears a gentle rub between leather fingers.  He turned back to you and told you to meet him at the cantina in three hours, but if it ended up taking him too long for any reason, to try your best to see if Karga will let you exchange on his behalf.

Admittedly, he didn’t sound too confident about it—the instructions were delivered with a tone that implied a doubtful, just-in-case scenario he wasn’t foreseeing happening.  Or maybe he just doubted the likelihood of Karga agreeing to do business with you, you’re not entirely sure.  All you know is that when he left, you were almost certain he wouldn’t be late, but you also took the time to grab the smallest blaster from his armory before heading out just in case.

Yet—here you are, three and a half hours later, eyes flicking between the door and Karga as you attempt to keep up polite conversation.  After turning down his offer of alcohol for the fifth time and still not seeing any glimpse of beskar coming to your rescue, you figure this may be as good a time as any to start the exchange.

During an extended break in the small talk, you slowly reach over to the corner of your booth and press a button on the face of the kid’s shield.  It hisses open and you completely miss the way Karga’s hand raises while three of his guards automatically reach for their hips.  The little green monster is still snoozing comfortably while you pull out the four glowing pucks Din left you and set them on the table one by one.

They scrape along the top of it as you slowly push them over to him, before sitting back in the booth and clearing your throat, flicking your eyes between Karga and his guards.  To you, nobody appears to have moved, so you muster a polite smile at him.

Karga smiles back, but makes no move to gather or inspect the offerings in front of him.

“Um…” you say after a moment, suddenly feeling your heart start to beat a little faster.  “Mando… Mando gave me permission to exchange on his behalf.”

“I believe you,” he drawls out in response, but the pucks still sit untouched in front of him as he leans back in the booth and studies you.  “Mando has always had a… let’s say, a frustrating penchant for disregarding the pillars of our code.  My apologies, young lady, but I’m afraid that I cannot accept these from you.”

Your voice comes out quieter than you’d like it to sound.  “Why not?”

“It is… unlawful,” he answers after a moment.  “Our organization operates under strict rules.”

Does it?  You blink.  No, it doesn’t.  You’re nothing to the Guild and you’ve sat next to Din quite a few times while Karga talked, listening to him drunkenly boast about return rates and out members by name.  You’re not sure why he’s barring you like this, but you’re also not self-assured enough to put practically any spine into it whatsoever.  “I’m… afraid I don’t understand.”

“I cannot legally do guild business with individuals not recognized as members in an official capacity,” he sighs, sounding grave and almost apologetic about it, but you don’t know him well enough to know if he’s a good actor or not.  “There’s nothing I can do for you besides provide you with my company, not until Mando decides to show.”

Well now that doesn’t make any sense, and you’re starting to worry that for some reason or another, he isn’t going to show.  Though it was incredibly well concealed, you’re well aware that Din was still lingering in the final recovery stages when he left the Crest earlier and all you have to go on is his word that he’d be here.  Something could’ve happened.  Something could be happening right now, you need to push.

“People pick up bounties for extra credits all the time,” you mumble, still way too fucking quiet about it.  Maker, you’re not even sure if he could hear that over the sound of the cantina.  Speak up, speak up.

“Yes, but those quarry are listed on the New Republic’s most wanted database,” Karga acknowledges diplomatically, educating more than he is arguing, before uncorking the bottle of glowing blue alcohol in front of him and beginning to pour himself another shot.  “They’re fodder.  Up for grabs—names, last known locations, and biometrics published for the entire galaxy to read.”  He tilts his head down at the four metal pucks on the table without removing his gaze from the gradually filling glass.  “Those pucks are different, they’re commissions.  Tied specifically to Guild contracts.”  Karga clunks the bottle back down again and corks it, pinning you with a stare.  “For all I know, you could’ve murdered a member of our ranks and come to collect payment for his bounties.  Can’t have that.”

Your blood suddenly turns to ice at the implication, eyes wide and your heartbeat rocketing as you look from Karga to the three guards casually stationed behind him.  “You—You think I murdered Mando?”

“No,” he says, easily and in the very same breath, before throwing the shot back and wiping his mouth with a grimace.  “Not sure I’d care too much if you did.  It’s not my rule, but I am required to follow it or risk losing my position in the Guild.”

Shit.  Shit.  What do you do?

You’re blank, left quiet and feeling increasingly unsure of how to proceed.  Karga, however, seems completely unbothered and even appears to be enjoying himself and your company.  He gives you another smile, this one a lot friendlier and more genuine than the one earlier, before setting his elbows on the table and leaning forward.

“Look, I want to help you,” he admits, keeping his tone light, “but my hands are tied.  Just relax and share a drink with me until he gets here, it’s not a problem.”

Fuck, you don’t like this, and a quick look around brings another reminder of Din’s continued absence.  Your chest feels tight, the anxiety starting to compound and make you jumpy.  It’s been too long—it’s been at least forty minutes or so of waiting by now and something just feels wrong about this.  Not having him next to you feels wrong enough on its own, but when he specifically told you he’d be here?

You clench your jaw and try to work up your nerve.  Karga is a nice guy, right?  He knows you by name, he knows who you are to Mando.  And while you never really thought about the bounty hunter’s omnipresent protection as being anything other than metaphorical, you suddenly realize that… it might be literal, too.  How much sway do you actually have here, you wonder?  You’re not stupid, you’re not going to try anything stupid, but maybe just another question won’t hurt?

“Well, um… how do you become a member, then?”  You ask him, and you watch as he leans back in the booth, raising both eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?”  He asks, though there’s a genuine amusement in his voice.  Stunned that you’d even say the words aloud.

“I have four bodies,” you tell him shortly.  You’re still quiet about it, but his thoroughly entertained astonishment is beginning to rub you the wrong way.  You don’t want to be part of the Guild, you don’t want to be here, you’re doing this out of growing necessity.  “One of which I dragged through a blizzard on Hoth by its ankles and put into carbonite myself, so please just tell me what I have to do to get you to take them.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, shaking his head like you’re just not getting it.  “New members are only accepted if they bring in an S-level criminal from the database or if they complete a commission that was granted to them by someone of my station—neither of which apply to you.  If you cannot present me with any sort of reasonable argument for which they could, then I’m afraid this is not a favor I can swing.”

“I was sitting right here,” you return, suddenly finding your voice.  If Karga wants an argument from you to get this to happen, then you’ll do it.  You just need to finish this exchange, go back to the Crest, and scan around for Din’s signal.  “When you first gave the pucks to Mando, I sat right here and you pushed them over to this side of the table—I was present for the commission and now I’m here to complete it.”

He shakes his head.  “But I didn’t give them to you, I gave them to Mando—”

“Yes, but you only wanted to give him three,” you immediately point out.  “The last one, the one I told you I put into carbonite—you said you threw it in because you liked me, it could’ve been for me.”

Karga suddenly stops and blinks at you for a few seconds, and you bite your lip, wondering if the logic will hold.  It’s flimsy as fuck and you know he could very easily rip it apart if he wanted to.  It could’ve been for you but it wasn’t, he gave it to Mando.  You also purposefully leave out the fact that you’re also the reason Mando only gave him three bodies in the first place; your only goal here is to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and leave.  You don’t like the fact that it’s taking Din so long, and you also don’t like the fact that Karga seems so keen on keeping you here with him, no matter how many reassurances he provides.  He said he wants to help you?  This can be his chance to prove it.

After a few extended moments of consideration, Karga finally shrugs like he really couldn’t care less before reaching across the table for the pucks and beginning to stack them in his palm.

“What is your last name?”  He asks, turning behind him to gesture for one of his men with a jerk of his head.  The bodyguard exits the cantina without another word and your eyes flick back to Karga’s.

“Why does it matter?”  You ask uncertainly, watching another guard approach with a holopad as he shrugs once more.

“It doesn’t, but we need something for our records,” Karga explains, grabbing the device as it’s tapped against his shoulder without removing his gaze from yours.  “I can just use Doe if you don’t feel like sharing—most of our members tend to prefer anonymity, including your companion.”

Your eyebrows furrow even as your heart continues to pound, wondering how they can afford to be so lax about some things but take others so seriously.  “You have him down as John Doe?”

“First name Man,” Karga grunts in response, finally breaking eye contact to begin navigating through pages on the holopad.

“Ah,” you say shortly, knowing you’d probably find the joke funny in other circumstances.  You’re not out of the trenches yet, you still feel the worry tugging hard at your chest.

“Very well,” Karga announces with a sigh, pocketing the pucks in his leather overcoat and then handing the holopad back to one of the men flanking him after a moment.  “Someone is collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

You give him a nod, taking a deep breath that you hope is slow and subtle enough to not give your anxiety away.  He helped you out, you’re halfway through this.  Now comes the exchange.  Now it’s his turn to give you the credits and four more pucks, that’s how this should go.

Only, Karga leans back in his seat and cocks his head at you.  “Unfortunately, I believe we have found ourselves in the midst of yet another predicament.”

Your heart continues to slam, praying you haven’t somehow majorly fucked things up by getting this far.  Din still isn’t here, why is he so fucking late?  He nearly froze to death and you handled a dead body just to make this meeting on time, where the fuck is he?

You raise an eyebrow at him, willing the building panic not to show on your face.  “Have we?”

“You’re lucky credits are attached to commissions instead of rank within the Guild,” he prefaces, pulling out a large handful of them to begin counting, and your eyes flick around the cantina while you know he isn’t looking, “or else you’d be getting about half of what I’d normally give him.”

Heart galloping when you still don’t see any sign of him, you just decide to keep extra quiet as you watch Karga divvy out a sizable stack of credits, hoping your prolonged silence will protect you somehow.

“The question now becomes…” he lifts an eyebrow at you while sliding them across the table to you, “how many pucks do I give you in return, hm?”

Fuck, you don’t like this, you’re trying to make it crystal fucking clear that your intentions do not extend beyond the perimeter of this table.  There’s no you to be found in this deal, you’re just an emergency proxy in Din’s absence and you only inserted yourself in the situation to accomplish that task.  “I told you I’m only here to exchange on Mando’s behalf, that’s it.”

“Be that as it may…”  Karga glances around the cantina like he’s thinking extra hard about it.  This is a made-up problem, you both know there’s no predicament here.  He knows you didn’t kill Mando, he knows there’s no real reason to be giving you such a hard time about this, and you clench your jaw as he still seems to take his time considering it.  “Tell you what, young lady,” he finally turns back to you.  “Do me the honor of sharing one sip of this fine spotchka with me and I’ll give you four pucks to pass along to Mando.”

Okay.  Okay, you can do that, if he really cares that much.  Karga gestures for the closest droid to come by with a glass for you, but you just grab the bottle in front of him and uncork it without thinking too much, balancing the glowing blue liquid with two hands and diligently taking a small sip of it before setting it down again.  Appearing satisfied with your demonstration of upholding your end of the bargain, Karga grins and reaches into another pocket.

“Four for Mando,” he pushes four pucks across the table, “same rate and return as last time, as promised.”  You nearly deflate in relief as you quickly gather them up and begin dropping them into the snoozing baby’s shield along with the credits, but then Karga reaches back and pulls out another puck, pushing it over to you.  “And one for you.”

You blink at him, frozen in place.

“Lowest level, lowest pay.  Not even a criminal by New Republic standards, just a missing person,” he goes on to say, but then quite suddenly… 

Quite suddenly you’re absolutely fucking horrified.

You don’t want it.  Everything inside you surges up to scream that you do not want that puck.  It’s a waste of time, even if it’s an extra job—it’s too much trouble, too much fuel for such a small reward.  You already know good and well that Din won’t want to bother, getting this extra puck would be considered a detriment to him.

“What if I don’t want it?”  You ask, sounding nervous and vaguely out of breath as you look down at it.

Karga scoffs.  “Of course you don’t.  Nobody wants these, why do you think I’m trying so hard to pawn one off on you?”

Shit.  This is not at all how you expected any of this would go.  You know he’s not really asking, even if his tone and continued courtesy implies it’s only a request.  There’s an expectation attached to this, and it appears you take too long pondering an offer that isn’t actually voluntary.  Karga stares at you and your clear apprehension for just a few seconds more, before finally giving you an ultimatum.  “You said you’re here on his behalf.  You either take all five pucks now or Mando only gets three next time, your choice.”

Oh.  Oh, no.  This is a lose-lose; three pucks means more fuel and less credits, five pucks means more fuel and less credits.  It’s not like you have any real bargaining power here—almost everything he’s done for you today has been a favor of some sort and you’re well aware that things can always get worse.

Still, you take a deep breath and try your best to throw around whatever weight you have left in one final agreement.

“Give me your word you’ll go back to giving him four from now on, no more hassling or hard time constraints and we’ll take it just this once,” you tell him, trying to conjure and put power behind your words even though you’re unsure if they’ll stick.

“Deal,” Karga readily agrees with a smile, reaching his hand across the table.  You have no choice but to meet him in the middle and clasp it, unable to feel anywhere close to good about your performance here.  It was clunky and insecure and even though you just barely succeeded in making the exchange overall, you’re massively disappointed in the specifics.

But then Karga’s eyes quickly flick over your shoulder.

“Ah, Mando!”  He suddenly calls out, and your hand nearly snatches away from his while your body goes rigid.

Oh, this isn’t good, this is not good.  Well, it’s good that he’s here but it also really fucking isn’t.  You don’t even turn your head; you sit completely straight and still while the cantina falls to a hush and heavy footsteps begin to approach behind you.  You fucked up—you fucked up, you didn’t wait long enough and you feel the sharp regret instantly twist in your stomach.  He said he’d be here, why didn’t you trust him?  Your anxiety and stress compounded and spurned you to act too quickly, you made the deal a few fucking seconds before he showed up.

And, as Din eventually comes into your peripheral, taking his time leaning his rifle up against the table, you immediately realize that you should not have worried.  Recovery isn’t even a word in his vocabulary right now—he’s more intimidating than he’s ever been, more powerful and certain and dangerous while he lowers himself into the seat next to you than he’s ever felt to you before.  Everything is so quiet now that he’s here; you feel like even just swallowing against the sudden dryness in your throat turns into an audible gulp.  The man sitting across from you may own this cantina and every material good under its roof, but the one sitting by your side feels like he steals the literal air from the room just by walking inside it.

Yet, in spite of the daunting presence of the Mandalorian, Karga beams and tips his glass at him.  “I believe you’ve arrived just in time for your favorite part of the conversation, friend.  The farewells.”

You stare wide-eyed down at the table as Din leans back into the booth and very slowly extends his arm behind your shoulders, saying nothing at all to him.

The testosterone is radiating from him to the point of near suffocation, you can taste the alpha in the air.  Your heart slams in your chest at the unspoken claim he just made with a subtle movement, and though you’ve never been one for masculine displays, this one weirdly feels… good right now.  You know it’s primitive and crude and you’re not a piece of meat to be fought over, but it doesn’t feel like that at all.  It’s the immediate feeling of security that serves to heat your cheeks, the fact that you’ve been a nervous mess trying to be extra brave this whole interaction and then suddenly you have the backup of an entire army contained within one single suit of armor next to you.

If you weren’t internally panicking at how badly you screwed this shit up, you’d probably be going fucking feral for him right now.

Karga says your name and your gaze snaps to his, feeling like you can’t breathe.  “My associate has collected the plaques, nothing keeps you here any longer.  It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

Still, nobody at the table moves.

After a moment, you carefully glance up and to the side at the sharp, metallic profile of his helmet.  Maker, you can’t explain it—it’s like you feel terrified but not really for yourself, if that makes sense.  You’re upset with yourself for not having enough trust in his word, absolutely, but something in Din’s demeanor tells you that he’s going to be considerably less understanding of how Karga handled this situation than the way you did.

The helmet slowly turns down to look at you, and you bite your lip while carefully placing your hand on his thigh brace under the table, letting him feel your fingers brush against the bend of his knee.

He turns back to Karga after a few seconds, still not saying a single word, until eventually Din’s arm is lifted from behind your shoulders and you feel his leather fingers gently clasp your hand, before he starts to rise from the booth and pull you along next to him.  You both stand, and he silently presses a button on his vambrace without dropping your grip, urging the kid’s shield to follow along behind him.

“Um, goodbye,” you just barely remember to tell Karga as Din begins leading you away, apparently not waiting for the polite farewells he arrived in time for.

“Wait!”  A voice calls out just before you can make your exit, and Din pauses just in time for Karga to extend that damned fifth puck out for you to grab.  Right in fucking front of him.  “Can’t forget this!”

Fuck.  Great.  Thanks.

Blood rushes to your face while you go to reach for it, taking the puck and then placing it in the open shield along with four others in a way that you hope is casual but you know isn’t.  You close the lid on it and then squeeze Din’s hand slightly, but he stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds, having watched the entire exchange play out.  Though you obviously wouldn’t be able to read his facial expressions even if you could lift your head to look up at him, you can’t will yourself to do so right now.  You’re too disappointed in yourself and nervous—you just stand there silently as he looks back at Karga, staring at your feet and praying he doesn’t do anything brash.

After too many moments of uncertainty, you squeeze his hand again and slowly begin to pull on it.  Without needing much pressure at all, he goes where you go, and you end up being the one to lead Din out of the cantina by the hand still tangled with yours.

*** 

The walk back to the Crest lasts an eternity.

Neither one of you say anything at all to each other the entire way there, and you know he’s not mad at you yet, but you’re worried.  You feel incredibly self-critical right now and it’s really not helping that he seems even quieter and more wound up than usual.  You don’t know if it’s because he already figured out that you just handed him extra work or if it’s because whatever made him late to the cantina also altered his mood, hit a reset button and reminded him of the way he used to be, the armor he’s wearing.  Was there a confrontation, you wonder?  Is he okay?  He seems like he’s… extra Mandalorian right now, there’s not really a better way to describe it.

He doesn’t drop your hand, though.  As you pass through the markets and shanty huts lining the streets, Din holds onto you.  Shoulders tense and strides heavy, but his fingers stay tangled in yours.

Regardless, you keep your mouth shut and eventually the Crest comes into view.  The ramp drops to the ground and the three of you make your way up, and you have enough foresight to carefully drop Din’s hand and lead the baby’s shield over to the unused cot built into the hull walls, closing him in a safe quiet place to sleep and continue building up his strength again.

You turn around to see Din press another button on his vambrace.  He stays with his back to you as the ramp slowly closes, but as soon as it latches up against the hull and locks into place, he nearly whips around and suddenly he’s right in front of you, gloves cupping your face.

“What happened?”  He asks sharply, the helmet looking you up and down.  “Are you alright?  Why did you look so scared?”

You reach up to rest your hands on his, blinking up at him and not knowing what to say.  How are you going to tell him?  He’s gotta waste extra fuel and time on a bullshit quarry because of you, what are you going to say?  You don’t even know if it’s last known location is nearby; he might have to fly to some remote, desolate corner of the galaxy just for a handful of credits because you couldn’t wait a fucking hour for him.

“I, uh…  I-I’m sorry, I just…”  But it’s nearly impossible to form a coherent thought when he’s this close to you and sounding fucking sincere, genuinely concerned about you while you’re stuck worrying about how to break the bad news to him.  “Oh, stars, um…”

“Did Karga fuck with you?”  He asks in that same sharp tone when you don’t finish your thought, but you’re so absorbed in your own conflict that you barely even hear him.  “Because I can go back right now, the cantina is just—”

“Okay wait, please—” You suddenly speak up, “before I tell you, just… please keep in mind that I did save your life two days ago, so…”

“Sweet girl,” Din rumbles slowly, a subtle warning for you to hurry up and spit it out.  His fingers tighten just slightly on your cheeks, still so gentle but needing you to communicate with him right now.

Tell him, you just need to tell him.  If he gets mad, then he gets mad, but at least he’ll know at that point and you won’t just be springing it on him out of nowhere.

“I fucked up,” you breathe out, eyebrows pulling up in the middle as you tighten your own grip on his hands.  “I’m so sorry, I fucked up and you were late and I got nervous and I didn’t wait long enough and I tried to make the exchange like you asked me to but then I had to take a fifth puck and I didn’t want to but Karga threatened to short change you next time around unless I agreed to take an extra one for the lowest pay just this once and I didn’t have any bargaining power and you showed up right after I agreed to the deal and I’m so so sorry—”

You cut yourself off with your own ragged gasp, not having paused once to breathe throughout the entire thing while your expression twisted up with regret more and more the longer he allowed you to speak.

Din stands there in front of you and doesn’t move, hands still attached to your face.

“Okay,” he eventually tells you.  Stunted words, like he’s trying extra hard to find them when yours just fell out of your mouth in a complete mess.  “It’s okay.  You did… good.”

The silence is tense and you’re becoming more and more anxious the longer he takes to speak.  He’s lying for your benefit, he must be.  When he drops his hands from your face and takes a full step back, you take the gesture as symbolic and nearly launch into panic.

“Maker, I’m so sorry I didn’t wait for—”  You start to say, but Din cuts you off.

“Did he make you…”  His back suddenly goes a little straighter, voice finding a quiet edge through the modulator as his fingers subtly twitch at his sides, “…Uncomfortable?”

You pull back at the sudden change in subject and furrow your eyebrows.

“Who, Karga?”  You have to think about it.  Did he make you uncomfortable, or were you just uncomfortable already?  You might’ve just been scared because you were making it scarier than it really was, you can admit that’s a valid possibility.  “Um… no?  I don’t know, not… not really, I don’t think.”

“No?”  He asks, taking a small step forward.  “You don’t know?  Or not really… you don’t think?”

You know you can only see the blade of his visor, but something makes you feel like you’re looking right in his eyes.  You even go back and forth between where you’re pretty confident each one is, trying to read his intentions right now.  It’s like he’s purposefully trying to keep space between you even though he looks like he wants to move closer, fisting his hands at his sides when he looks like he wants to touch you.

“No, he just… lowballed me towards the end of it and I got intimidated, but I’m also not…”  Your expression narrows in concentration while you try to find the words to explain yourself, wanting to be as honest as possible with him.  “I don’t know, I’m not like you.  I’m not that strong, but I’m trying to get better.  I think he was probably just being normal.  He did offer me alcohol a bunch, but I’m pretty sure he also did that last time, so—”

“And I didn’t like it the last time he did it,” Din says quietly, taking another small step forward.

You blink up at him, completely dumb.  This is what’s bothering him?  Is he really not upset with you at all for giving him more work?  It’s like the major fuckup on your behalf just went in one side of the helmet and out the other, he barely even acknowledged it other than the role Karga played.  He said it’s okay and you did good, which are like… five of the most common words in Galactic Basic, a Wookiee could probably find a way to say them.  How are you supposed to take that?  Were you just overthinking this whole thing from the very beginning?  You know anxiety tends to be irrational by definition, but has none of your panic from the past hour been justified whatsoever?

“Why were you so late?”  You ask him, but it’s not accusatory in the slightest.  It’s… concerned, worried about his well-being without having a real reason.  He’s clearly more than fine right now, he’s like a hurricane enclosed in metal and holding still in front of you.  Too much potential energy just waiting for a reason to be released, too much tension held tight and ready to snap.

“I’m sorry.”  He quickly reaches out to grab your hand and squeeze it, before dropping it just as quickly.  Fucking lightning quick, you’ll never understand how he can be so damn quick with all that extra weight strapped to him.  “It took longer than I thought it would and she’s not really someone you can rush.”  His response, ironically, feels very rushed, like he’s trying to address the tangent but also keep things on track, but something in the answer he gives catches your direct attention.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“Who is she and what can’t be rushed?”  You blurt at the same time, not even taking a split second to think about it.

Din stops short at the blunt question, staring at you in a silence that feels like it’s vaguely taken aback.

After a few moments of that… strangeness, of the two of you realizing that you’re both feeling slightly possessive over each other for absolutely no reason whatsoever, you start to feel… warm.  In another weirdly stupid, primitive way.  You know that letting those kinds of thoughts have their day in a relationship isn’t a good thing, but you can’t explain it.  Some deep-seated, prehistoric instinct inside you just goes fucking nuts whenever he gets in either provider or protector mode.  Now you understand exactly why he wanted to get you alone after you admitted to being jealous once before.  You totally fucking get it, you’re right there with him right now.  He hasn’t said anything, but you think he feels it, too.

“She makes things,” Din finally answers you, careful with his words and somehow managing to address your question while also sidestepping it, leaving you with only the smallest bit of information to go off of.  “Did he flirt with you?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.  “Maybe.  He could’ve just been trying to be friendly.  What did she make for you?”

“She made it for you,” he responds, again not really answering the question but continuing to juggle two separate conversations for your benefit.  “Did he scare you?”

“For me?”  You ask, eyebrows shooting upwards.  Provider, that stupid cavewoman DNA whispers to your lower body, making your voice go a little breathless.  “You asked her to make something for me?”

“Did he scare you?”  Din repeats sternly, grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze.  “Because I can go back, I swear—”

Protector, it whispers this time, and your knees nearly buckle.

“Everything is scary when I don’t know where you are,” you admit to him, knowing it’s the truth regardless of how self-deprecating it sounds.  The only times you’ve ever truly been brave was because of him or the kid.  Stabbing a Corellian and then immediately flying the Crest out to him afterwards, walking through a pitch black forest believing a dangerous criminal was hiding in it, dragging a dead body through snow and shoving it into carbonite, standing up for yourself and pushing a deal through when odds were stacked against you.  Though it’s nothing to him, it’s nothing, it’s leaps for you.  You’re slowly learning to find a backbone, and he’s the one inspiring it.

Din holds there for a moment, unmoving with his hand still clutching yours.  You can’t get a read on him but you know how you feel right now.  Achy.  Hot.  Needy.  Wanting him to come closer.

“Will you do something for me?”  He asks you after a prolonged silence.  His voice is quiet, but… incredibly restrained.  Controlled chaos—his body is rigid and he’s flexing muscles that aren’t necessary for just standing, feeling like a sprinter holding still on the starting blocks.

“Of course,” you breathe out.

Din lets go of your hand and tilts his helmet over at the corner of the hull behind you.  “Go turn around and face that wall.”

You freeze, immediately recognizing the undertone in his voice.  Heat ladles deep into the pit of your tummy, sends warmth pooling downwards.  He wants to do this here?  Right now?

“We’re—” you look around the enclosed hull, “Mando, we’re not in hyperspace, we haven’t even left the surface yet…”

He looks around too, taking a second to blankly take in his stagnant surroundings like he had absolutely fucking no idea, before turning back to you and not saying a word.  Maker, everything below your waist is already stirring, twisting hot and deep inside, but you’re trying to be the voice of reason for a second.

“What if somebody hears us?”  You whisper, and Din cocks his head to the other side.

“I can help you stay quiet,” he murmurs, and… fuck.  You don’t know what it means, but you immediately imagine his hand held tight over your mouth while he takes some of this stress out on you and you already feel yourself wilting at the thought.  Okay.

“Okay,” you breathe without needing anything else at all, before spinning around and standing exactly where he told you to.  It’s just a corner near the back of the hull, nothing else here to look at besides two metal panels meeting at a right angle, but that’s admittedly what makes your heart start beating quicker.  You can’t see him come up behind you but you can feel it.  Slow, measured, but so restrained.

But then he stops almost immediately, before the back of your shirt is suddenly being yanked upwards and you remember at the very last second.

Din carefully grips his blaster and then eases it out of your waistband, the metal sliding warm along your skin from pressing against it for so long.  You never told him you took it with you, and he’s so fucking quiet behind you.  You have no idea how he’s reacting to that piece of information you originally didn’t think twice about.

“Do you like carrying my gun around?”  Din’s voice murmurs soft through the modulator to you, but then the blaster is tossed uselessly to the side, skittering loudly across the floor of the hull.

“Yes,” you reply, beginning to shyly turn your head back to look at him, hoping to gauge his response.

“Don’t turn around,” he quickly interrupts you, pushing your shoulder back into position and keeping you facing the corner.  You blink at the metal walls in a bit of a daze but follow instructions regardless, feeling your heart pound at the sudden display of dominance from him.  He has a very valid reason for it and you don’t realize what it is until a few seconds later, but even if he didn’t and he was just telling you what to do for the fun of it… you’d still like it.

But then his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head and you shudder as your vision is replaced with a familiar black abyss.  Fuck, his helmet, why does he like it so much when you wear this?  Admittedly, you don’t have much time to contemplate—as soon as it’s fitted and secure, he spins you around and you have to just do your best to maintain your balance, not having any visual to help.

“Can you hear me?”  Din asks, and your clothes start to be ripped off of you.  Your shoulders tip sideways with how quick he is about it, feeling him pull the fabric off and hearing the soft sound it makes landing on the floor.

“Yes,” you tell him, but he doesn’t respond, continuing to strip you completely naked in the hull.  Once your upper body is bare and he’s yanking your pants and underwear down your legs, you try saying it again as you step out of them, louder for him this time.

“I can’t hear you,” his voice grunts after a moment.  You know he’s in front of you but you can’t really tell where, now that he’s not touching you.  “Scream.”

You take a second, not having hard evidence anymore but still very well aware that you’re parked close to a marketplace on Nevarro and multiple people are nearby while you’re wearing his helmet.  This is dangerous for him, and not sure if you should, but then an arm is wrapping around your back and a large leather palm rests directly over your chest.  Din repeats his last word very slowly and clearly for you, waiting to feel it under his hands.

Your sternum lifts while it rises with your deep breath and then collapses as you diligently yell as loud as you can into the helmet, feeling like you might deafen yourself with the trapped sound.

“Good,” he growls, suddenly spinning you around and pushing you back into the metal paneling.  “I can’t hear you, be as loud as you need.  Hit me or something, put up a fight if you want me to stop, alright?”

Arousal rockets through you and you let out a moan already, taking advantage of the noise suppression and beyond turned on at this point.  You feel like you’re buzzing with it, lit up with excitement and wondering with bated breath what he’s planning to do to you.

“Alright?”  Comes his voice from behind you once more, and you quickly jerk the heavy helmet in a nod for him.  You can put up a fight and you know he’ll stop, you don’t have any problem with that and the fact that he specifically made sure to wait until he knew you understood him makes you start to pant inside the hollow beskar.

But then you feel him flick a small switch at the base of the helmet and then everything abruptly cuts out and goes dead silent.

Nothing.  Nothing.  You’re standing in a pitch black room where no other sound exists besides your own labored breathing.  Just like the waterfall on Naboo, but you can’t speak this time.  Temporarily making you blind, deaf, and putting a proverbial gag over your mouth all with one powerful piece of armor.

You shudder and he kicks your legs apart before you can do much else, yanking your hips back while you just try your best to cling to the wall for stability.  You don’t know what he’s going to do, you’re completely isolated in here and the only way you can even tell he dropped to his knees is the hot glide of his tongue through your pussy from behind.

Oh fuck—you arch into position as best you can while hands wrap around your ankles to pull them apart, trying to make the angle better.  His tongue licks softly over your clit and each time is like an electric shock jolting through your body, making you twitch back and up for him, stretching and begging him to do it again.  You can’t see anything right now so your mind readily imagines the visuals instead, providing you with a third party view.  Din, fully clothed and face shielded by your thighs, eating you out from behind while you brace yourself against the wall, completely naked and at his mercy, head tilted down from the weight of his helmet and living for the moments he decides to drag his tongue across your clit.

Without warning, a sudden burst of sensation ripples along your backside and causes you to lift the beskar in surprise, but without being able to hear anything, it takes you a second to figure out that he just smacked your ass.  The realization comes more or less at the exact time he decides to flatten his tongue and follow the curve of you back and up.

You gasp into the pitch black and there’s a moment where you just hold utterly still for him, experiencing and processing the sensation for the very first time.  His mouth is soft and warm as he tastes you here, his fingers digging into the swell of your cheeks to spread you open.  You’re glad your face is hidden so he can’t see the shock in your expression, the way your mouth drops and your eyes close as you let him explore you this way.

His gloved hands leave you for just a moment while he continues gliding his tongue against you, along every single bit of skin he can reach, and then you feel a bare hand reach up between your legs and begin to rub slow circles around your clit.  His other arm pushes against your lower back and you’re forced into the corner even more, your naked breasts pressing hard against cool metal and feeling his hot mouth and strong fingers work you closer to the edge from behind.

You’re panting into the helmet, your hips arching back to feel that stimulation on your clit better, and as his fingers move over it slow and strong, you feel a soft vibration against your skin and you realize he’s moaning into you.  The knowledge sparks a different kind of heat through you and makes you suddenly go still and tense right here.  If he stays just like this for even just a few more seconds, you’re going to cum.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” your voice warbles inside the enclosed steel—just as his touch decides to abandon your body.  You groan loudly in distress, completely alone without his hands or mouth on you anymore, but all he likely hears is the silence of the hull and the way your palm smacks against the wall with it.  You were so close, everything feels like it’s pulled up so tight and painful and it hurts—

A hand clutches your hip and then a thick cock is suddenly pushing up against your soaking wet entrance, going to alleviate that twisting discomfort.  Your eyes roll back and your whole body goes limp as he slowly eases forward and breaks you open, fitting himself deep inside where you love to feel him most.  Your hands claw down the walls with a swell of bliss as he pulls out and then starts thrusting—and fuck, you love this.  You love the way he’s trapping you up against the corner and making you see stars at the same time, the way he’s supporting your weight but crushing down into you, too.  It makes you go boneless and want to riot simultaneously, groaning loud into the quiet abyss as he gives you what you both desperately needed.

One of his hands sinks down between your legs to play with your clit again, while a slick finger presses up against your ass and you gasp as he slowly penetrates you there, too.  Din’s hips work steady and powerful behind you, pushing you into the wall with every desperate thrust, using the arm shoved between your legs to support you as well as stimulate, and you just feel yourself move into a different place.  You don’t have a name for it but it feels like hyperspace.  Silence so loud it feels suppressing, faster than anything light can touch, nowhere and everywhere, hurtling towards something you can’t see but know lies in the distance.  You can tell he’s still fucking the tension out of his body, you can feel him working another wet finger inside you and stretching the virgin muscles back there, but every sensation begins to slowly blur together in a wicked uprising of ecstasy.

You don’t know where you are anymore, just that his fingers keep rubbing your clit and you think he's trying to ease a third into you when your destination abruptly arrives.

You nearly collapse when you cum, contracting so hard around his cock and fingers that you cry out unexpectedly—and because of the helmet, you think it’s just as unexpected for him.  He stops moving—everything stops moving besides you.  Your hips stutter backwards into his stationary body, dragging your clit back and forth against the tips of his unmoving fingers and fucking him as best you can.  It shatters white hot and goes straight through to your soul, wringing pleasure and wetness between your legs in waves.

Your knees are knocking against each other when Din pulls out, his cock still deliciously hard and now soaking wet with your cum, and then they just suddenly decide to give up without warning.  You don’t fall necessarily, but you do slowly slide down the wall like a slug and Din follows you to the floor instead of holding you up any longer.  His sternum moves quick and heavy against your back as he breathes and then suddenly the same switch at the base of his helmet is flicked, and sound bursts into existence all at once.

He’s panting.  Harsh breaths behind you that match the rapid pace of his chest, and the ambient noise of the rest of the hull.

“Can you hear me?”  He gasps, sounding fucking wrecked, and you nod the helmet against the wall while gravity and exhaustion and his beskar chestplate squishes you into it.  “P-Put up a fight if you want me t-to stop, p-please—” he rasps out, almost the entire thing air and so close to cumming, and then his knees lift just slightly and the blunt head of his cock presses against your other entrance.

And, if you wanted, you absolutely could.  He’s got you boxed into the corner but he’s not constricting your movements, he’s given you every ability to struggle.  You could easily throw an elbow back against his side, push against the wall to shove him away, smack at his arms or even just flail against his body in panic—you could do one or all of those things to signal him to stop and you know he’d do it immediately, he’s asking you to.  You could struggle.  If you wanted.

Instead, you just grab hold of the beskar strapped to his thigh and drop the helmet to your chest, nearly vibrating with the thrill and preparing yourself for it.  You know he’s gotta be inches away from orgasm, you know from the tone of his voice that he’s right there on the edge and it’s not like it’s going to last a long time.  Thanks to him, you also feel like you’re just as slick and wet back there as you are between your legs, stretched open by his fingers while you came all over him.  You want nothing more than to give this to him, to let him be the only person in the universe that knows how you feel this way.

When you pointedly do not put up a fight and even go so far as to arch your lower back for him in presentation, Din curses and his fingers begin jerking back and forth over your sensitive clit once more.  It might normally be too much for you, but your body is sparking with lust and quickly acclimates to the stimulation, learning to burn and ache for it, too.  Fuck, it feels so good, you tense and melt into it at the same time, letting him ease you back up to that peak once more.

He pushes up against the tight ring of skin and you can’t fucking explain it—his fingers keep rubbing your clit and he’s slowly pushing into your ass and—

“I—I think I’m—” you suddenly lift the helmet to gasp out in surprise, forgetting he can’t hear you, “ngh—D-Din, I think I’m gonna c—”

He’s just barely able to breach the tight entrance and fit the head inside before he freezes—and even though everything happens consecutively, it’s all so rapid that it feels simultaneous.

Your hips could go forward, but they don’t.  Your body decides to send you backwards into him, pushing him inside nearly halfway all at once as your muscles lock down and just fucking strangle his cock.  Your piercing scream gets trapped in the silence of his helmet as you cum once more—painfully, madly and with every fucking part of you for him.  There’s maybe one or two mind shattering pulses of ecstasy before the rest of your body catches up and starts convulsing, and by then Din is already gasping and fumbling behind you, suddenly realizing what’s happening without hearing the sound of your ragged warnings and then ripping himself away just in time.

He punches out your name when he cums like you just fucking snapped him in half—his body hunches and the beskar digs hard into your back as warmth starts splattering along your skin.  You crumple while he shoves his hips up against your spine, riding and working the orgasm out of himself while yours just fucking obliterates you.  You think you whine his name—or a curse word or something, but it gets strained and your lungs lose air every time his powerful armored body humps you into the wall of his ship.

Finally he eases up and you just lay there and listen to the ringing in your ears.  Blissfully empty, still pulsing from cumming so hard and feeling like your bones just decided to stop existing and the rest of you was okay with it since you were already on the floor anyways.  You feel him shudder and twitch behind you, letting go of that last bit of tension until he too allows gravity to slouch his heavy torso over onto you.

You both stay like that for a while, until your eyes close and your everything below your waist goes numb.  Eventually you feel him shift and your head bobbles as the helmet is slowly removed, but a large palm cradles your chin to stop your face from slamming into the wall in exhaustion once it’s off.  You just continue to melt into the paneling like you’re nothing more than goo of a human being while he trades it back to its rightful place on his shoulders and tucks his cock back into his pants, before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you both up.  The floor and metal walls, once feeling like you and them were one, suddenly decide to disappear entirely as you’re hauled up into Din’s powerful arms.

He slowly carries your naked, fucked senseless body over to the fresher, and you squint your eyes open over his shoulder to see… he’s still got his rifle slung around his back while his cum is dripping down yours.  Not a single thing on him is out of place and you’re, well… a mess is a word that works.  Limp and doll-like, carried like your weight is practically nothing to him after years of having the densest armor known to the galaxy strapped to his body.

Setting you down is a mess, too.  At some point you think he just gives up and decides to return you to your humble floor abode with a patience and care unexpected from someone who just defiled you so thoroughly.  You hear the fresher door open and the faucet squeak, before he turns back around and crouches to your level.

“Stay here,” Din tells you lowly, his modulated voice coming gentle and warm through the sounds of water raining down against metal.  You don’t feel his touch directly, but your hair moves away from your face.  “I’ll be right back, okay—just stay here.”

Can do.  Easy.  He waits until you murmur a soft mhm to him before he leaves the tiny compartment, and then you soon hear his heavy footsteps ascending the ladder to the cockpit.

***

You don’t think you fall asleep, but the powering up of the Crest’s thrusters make you realize your eyes were closed.  Opening them barely qualifies as a squint though; you look around to see steam slowly filling the fresher, the water already running hot and welcoming in the small room.

You know you need to shower but you’re so fucking exhausted, you feel like you can’t even move your body.  You also know you can just do the same exact thing in there as you’re doing in here, you just need to muster up the energy necessary to get inside it and then fall back asleep.  He set you down in the small little space outside the shower door and then got everything set up for you, you can at least stand up and take a few steps.

Unfortunately, you might pick just about the worst time possible to plant your hands on the ground and work to struggle upright on all fours like a newborn animal.  The steady rise through Nevarro’s atmosphere pushes gravity down harder than you’re expecting—is he trying to fly quickly or are you just that dead-limbed?—and then of course, by the time you do manage to fight it and successfully get on two wobbly legs to hold yourself up, the subtle shift of the hyperdrive kicking in nearly knocks you back down again.  You stumble and grab the walls, bracing yourself against them and looking down at your knees in exasperation.  Come on, work.  Move forward.  Come on.

You’re glad he’s not here to witness this monstrosity, honestly.  Just opening the door and taking a few steps into the fresher is a feat—while you’re not in any pain and he didn’t leave any marks on you, you just feel… steamrolled.  Ran over by a truck.  Only having the strength to keep your feet beneath you as you finally move under the water and close the door behind you.

Oh, but this is wonderful.  This was such a good idea, he’s so fucking smart.  The shower falls warm and lovely against your body, wetting your hair and immediately heating you down to your bones.  You don’t move really at all—you kinda just stand there and slouch, closing your eyes against the spray and slowly breathing the mist into your lungs.  It feels so nice—not really restorative even though you like that word, it would imply the water provides you with any energy whatsoever.  It just feels like a comfort, a relief and sedative for your already wildly fatigued body.

You haven’t been in here for more than a minute or two when knuckles tap gently against the metal walls of the fresher, before the natural bass of Din’s unmodulated voice murmurs from somewhere beyond it.  “Hey.  Keep your eyes closed.”

How did he know?  You figured you’d be way ahead of him.  You’re standing but slumped over, wanting nothing more than to just say fuck gravity and pass out right here.  The walls are too cold to lean against now that you’re all toasty from the heat and steam, so you’re just unconsciously swaying on your feet, trying to balance the precedence of sleeping versus not falling over.  You don’t even comprehend the sudden flip of the light switch overhead beyond the fact that it makes it easier to snooze without being so bright behind your eyelids.

The door eventually opens at the very same time you realize you never answered him, but you just commit to the silence at this point.  It’s easy, you like it.  Soon you feel warm hands touch your shoulders, slowly spinning you around while you follow and hang your head, your neck not wanting to support it any longer, and then suddenly a bare chest is pressing up against you and powerful arms are wrapping around your body, and you can just lean all of your weight into him while your head rests right here on his shoulder.

He holds you without moving for a long time, keeping you just like this—your ear pressed against his skin while water rains hot and comfortable down your back.  Knowing you’re facing one of the walls, you crack your heavy lids just the slightest bit and finally notice the tiny compartment is dim and shrouded—the only light source is a single one coming from somewhere in the hull beyond the partially closed doorway.  It’s dark and quiet and you can barely see anything besides the metallic fresher walls and unfocused droplets chasing each other down Din’s naked skin.  Just you and him, flowing water with a sheet metal backdrop.

You think you spend an eternity like that and yet you still find yourself wanting another when he finally shifts, reaching over you to grab a bar of his generic soap but making sure to use the arm whose shoulder you’re not currently resting against.

It glides slow and hypnotic down your back, dragging up over your sides and then back down the curve of your spine.  He’s so sturdy and he doesn’t say a word while he does it, lathering it along your body and rubbing it into your skin.  His bar of soap, not yours.  They started out almost the same since you picked them up at the same vendor, but there’s just a slightly bolder and sharper scent to his that you recognize.  How the bar is far larger than yours because of how often he’s gone away.

Your eyes droop and you feel the water trail over your lips, dripping down your chin and pooling the dip of his collarbone.  The only other time you two shared this fresher was terrifying and he’s rewriting the memories right now, whether consciously or not.  Hot water, not freezing cold.  Standing upright and supporting you.  Heart beating strong under your ear, taking care of you this time until you can care for yourself.

You… you just worry so much more now, it’s becoming an issue.  You didn’t realize how much until you nearly lost him, and you know in your heart that he’s just going to go away again.  Throw himself into more danger, tempt death as always, risk his life for mere credits while all you can provide in return is this.  Skin to skin contact.  Someone to hold.  Someone who knows him, who knows the way he struggles between reaching out for a softness that life has always denied him and clinging to what is rough and familiar.  Someone to remind him that there’s still gentle and forgiving things in this galaxy that won’t disappear when he’s gone, and that he can always come home to them, as long as he can manage to find his way back.

Something sad tugs hard at your chest.  You want to tell him not to leave.  Again, again—you want nothing more than to beg him to stay.  You don’t have anything better to offer instead; if he asked you how it would work, how you imagine your lives would go if he wasn’t hunting quarry on a constant timetable, you’d be hard-pressed.  You don’t know.  But you know what you want to say, because it’s two words you shouldn’t say but always find yourself needing to say regardless.  

Don’t go.

But, instead of two words, you give him three.

Instead of asking him not to leave you again… in the haze and comfort of his arms, you think you just tell him that you love him.

And… you also don’t think the water falling down on the two of you is loud enough to cover it up this time.

It’s not ideal, you know.  You know.  From his point of view, he just got finished releasing all sorts of pent up tension on you, overwhelming your body with the strength and power of his in a way that normal people wouldn’t take as an expression of affection.  But you know him.  You know that he finds it much easier to express the things he feels in a physical way, which is why there’s a bar of soap against your back right now instead of his voice in your ear, telling you all the things you’ve always wanted to hear from him in return.  You know that sex is how this all began and it’s likely just the closest link between roughness and sweetness that he can really put his hands on, something that can fit him equally as well as it fits you.  Love is different, it’s thrilling and scary.  Even to someone like him, who lives everyday of his life surrounded by thrilling and scary things, who’s seen more bloodshed and suffering and pain than you can ever even imagine, you know that it’s scary.

Din doesn’t say anything back to your confession, and truthfully, not a single part of you was expecting him to.  It wasn’t said so he could say it back.  It just is.  Some things don’t need explanations, they just are.  You’re okay with that.

But, you eventually come to realize that he always waits until you’re just on the very edges of sleep, holding out until your blurry vision and fading consciousness can trick you into thinking you only imagined it.  You won’t ever figure out if it’s purposeful or if he just needs that long to find what he wants to say.

Another soft, lilting sentence in a language you wouldn’t be able to translate, even if you could pick out a single word.  It sounds so beautiful though, regardless of how mysterious and far away its meaning feels.  There’s something hidden underneath.  You ache to know what it is.

But you’re so tired.  You just whine softly against his shoulder, not being able to transform the thoughts into sentences anymore but hoping he understands regardless.  He can’t just resort to bearing his soul in Mando’a all the time now, especially when you’re always on the verge of sleep when he chooses to do so.

But at some point, his arms subtly tighten around you and the pressure is one of the only things that’s keeping you awake anymore.

“I won’t ever ask you to,” he says to you, the quietness of his baritone getting lost in the gentle spray and your looming slumber.  “I’m…  not allowed to ask.  I can’t.”

Your expression twitches just the slightest bit against his shoulder in confusion, wondering distantly what word or sentence you must’ve missed from before that would make him make sense.  Was that a translation?  Or a continuation?

But then your wet hair is slowly moved away from your nape and his head tilts down, face pressing into your neck and voice lowering until it’s nothing more than a breath against your skin, nothing more than a confession that he couldn’t ever say out loud with his full chest.  It’s a secret he only ever wants you to know, a truth he’s choosing to admit to even though you could ruin him with it.  You have no idea how much, you won’t know for a long time just how much power he’s giving you by telling you this one very simple thing.

“But whenever you want to look,” Din finally whispers, the only version of I love you too that a Mandalorian knows.  “You can.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #fanfic #reader-insert #rough day #no-droids #smut

[whythinktoomuch]

ii. apocalypse now & again

(pt. i)

Kara woke up and realized that she was going to die.

Too many of the drones had survived the explosions and were still closing in on her. What little strength she had left after quite literally digging her own grave was presently and painstakingly strained just from her efforts to climb onto her knees. And on top of all that—of everything that possibly could have gone wrong for her in this moment—her helmet was cracked.

The abstract red numbers warning Kara of the kryptonite levels in the area seemed redundant now, what with that unmistakable chill already flooding her bloodstream.

“… Alex,” Kara gasped out, barely able to hear herself over the ringing in her ears. “Hey, Alex… Are you there?”

Her words were met with not one whisper or even a crackle of static, and for once, Kara was inconsolably disappointed to hear no one yelling back at her. With her teeth gritted, she shoved herself off the ground as hard as she could, drifting barely a foot into the air before the first drone crashed into the back of her head.

Kara toppled back onto the ground, knees skidding across the rubble in a shower of hot sparks. The impact had her head reeling, her mouth filling with a taste that she was now idly recognizing as blood. But there was no time to consider any of that as the drone doubled back. Kara scrambled out of the way, narrowly avoiding another collision, only to be struck by a second drone smashing right against her ear.

Out of breath but swearing, Kara whirled around and snagged the fast approaching drone into a bear hug, squeezing and squeezing until it crunched in her arms with a frantic whir. Then with a burst of heat vision, she shattered the other as it came straight for her face.

Kara used her heat vision to pick off several more drones from a distance, but of course, more and more just showed up to take their place, never wavering, never slowing… and eventually, Kara just had to laugh. Because her exhaustion was catching up to her. And Alex was hundreds of miles away. And to get out of here alive, Kara would have to somehow defeat the entire horde of drones, while all they had to do was wreck her suit a little more.

Though admittedly, it’d be overkill at this point, given the crack now spiderwebbing across the glass visor of Kara’s helmet.

Either way, it was over.

--

So, Kara laughed, grabbed at her chest in a reflexive gesture only to meet the unforgiving metal of her suit, then dropped to her knees. “Alex!” she shouted herself hoarse, because maybe if said loudly enough, the words would still be lingering in the air by the time her sister arrived. “Alex, I’m sorry, okay? You were right, and I’m sorry!”

Then she just waited—chest heaving, eyes narrowed but never blinking despite the heat pricking at the corners—because she definitely had to see this through to the bitter fucking end. That much, she owed everyone, including herself.

Except the end didn’t come.

Not this time anyway.

No, instead came a silver sphere, emerging seemingly out of thin air to hover right before Kara’s face. It flashed a blinding white just once, and everything fell absolutely silent and still. Kara’s suit powered down completely, the drones collectively dropped from the air like marionettes with cut strings, and all the lights in the immediate vicinity blinked out.

Laughter welling up all over again, Kara could only collapse onto her side in something akin to sheer relief.

The first person to occur to her, of course, was Alex, who had already saved her ass from similar scrapes on many occasions. But that couldn’t be it. Alex was too far away. It’s why Kara had to take on this mission on her own in the first place.

Then she considered maybe Winn or James, which made even less sense, given how the deceased hardly ever came back to do things like save people’s lives. Not even hers. Not even in the most dire of situations. That’s, unfortunately, just not how life worked these days.

Then she considered Alex again because the kryptonite was clearly bleeding into her brain now, and it was getting rather difficult to remember why it couldn’t have been Alex who’d just saved her. Maybe Kara did shout loud enough after all…

But then, a set of footfalls drew near, metal scraping against metal at a steady pace until a heavy boot struck Kara firmly in the chest, flipping her onto her back where she settled with a grunt.

“So glad I got to you first,” came a self-assured drawl, and Kara promptly found herself face to face with a handheld cannon of sorts. “Would be a pity to come all this way and not get to kill you myself.”

And… Kara’s jaw just dropped.

Not because of the words, nor the intentions behind them—though perhaps they both merited some attention as well—but that voice.

Kara gaped up at her supposed knight in shining, lead-lined armor because her voice—that low, husky tone paired with that very specific lilting cadence—was making her reconsider some very fundamental things about how the world might work.

Namely, that people wouldn’t come back from the dead just to save her life.

Mind still reeling away, Kara tried to sit up, only to be slammed back into the ground, hard.

“Down, girl,” Lena said, grinding her boot into Kara’s chest, the weight of her entire body behind the gesture. But that was fine.

It was fine because Kara could still draw some breath into her lungs, could still use some of that breath to talk, and she could certainly still say some things that she hadn’t uttered aloud in many a year. Like her late wife’s name, for instance.

The cannon in Kara’s face wavered, but didn’t lower. “Shut up,” Lena hissed down at her. “Don’t talk. Don’t even think.”

“So… it is you…” Kara said, and she gently wrapped her fingers around Lena’s ankle—the only part of her that she could still reach from her position—and just cried.

With a startled gasp, Lena stumbled away, wrenching herself out of Kara’s grip. “What the fuck…? What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Kara sobbed out, trying not to choke on her own tears and snot and the slight taste of blood still lingering on her tongue. She suddenly, irrationally, wished that she could just take off her clunky suit. Just to eliminate some of that distance between her and Lena. Just so she could touch the chain hanging around her neck without any hindrance. “Just… just wanted to say, hi.”

Lena kept her distance, studying Kara in a stony silence, and Kara started to see things that she should probably would have noticed sooner if her body weren’t actively shutting down on her. Like the green glow of Lena’s weapon and the kryptonite cartridges strapped to her belt. Or that she was clearly wearing a lexo-suit. Or how the swirly edges of her own vision were starting to darken, and how the chill of kryptonite was currently all she could feel.

“Hey,” Kara called out, sniffling only slightly now. “Am I dreaming?”

“… No.”

Kara nodded thoughtfully to herself. “Okay, cool, cool… So, I think I might be dying then.”

“Yeah,” Lena said, after a brief pause. “Probably.”

“Cool.” Kara tried to flash a thumbs up, but no part of her body wanted to cooperate anymore. Her exhaustion had eaten up all her drive. “Hey, can you tell Alex something for me?”

Lena sighed, but she finally stepped closer, practically in reach. “Okay, sure.”

Kara fumbled for some words and the correct order that one might put them in, but then Lena took off her helmet, and nothing else mattered anymore. Because Kara was perfectly content to just watch that ripple of dark hair, streaked with a light gray that was just… nice to look at.

She never got to see her Lena’s hair do that.

//

Kara’s shoulder was being shaken so violently that she had no choice but to open her eyes and see Alex’s worry-creased face peering down at her.

“Dumbass…” Alex grumbled, releasing Kara’s shoulder with a dirty scowl. “That’s the last time I let you go anywhere without me.”

“Whatever you say, director.” Kara laughed, but it hurt. She then tried to do a salute, but her everything was still too weak to move apparently. But at least she was still alive.

… Wait.

Kara repeatedly tried to sit up on her bed, and Alex repeatedly shoved her right back down until she gave up. But still, she had to check, had to know that it wasn’t all just a dream.

“Where’s Lena?” she demanded, and the look that Alex gave her in response was so deeply pained that Kara almost felt pathetic for asking.

“… Kara.”

“No, I saw her, Alex,” Kara said, shaking her head, then immediately stopping when her entire body somehow got dizzy from it. “Shit. Ow, ow… But wait, no—But seriously, I saw her, okay?”

“I’m not surprised that you did. You almost died, Kara. Actually, I’m pretty sure that you were dead for a few minutes back there. Again, I say, you fucking dumbass.”

“But I didn’t die. Because she saved me,” Kara insisted. “No, seriously! She took out all the drones with some sort of EMP device, and, and… we talked! And she had gray hair, and I think maybe laugh lines? And yeah, I almost died because my helmet got cracked and stuff. But now, I’m here and I’m fine, so… everything’s fine, right?”

Alex frowned, then somehow settled on the least important part of Kara’s briefing, “You cracked your helmet?”

“Ugh, yeah. The glass visor part. When I fell,” Kara said, waving her hand dismissively. “So sorry about that, by the way.”

“Suit looked fine when we got to you,” Alex said with a shrug, before irritably exclaiming, “Jesus christ, Kara, enough! I’ll just have a guy get the helmet for you, okay? So, just stop trying to get up already.”

Huffing, Kara fell back onto her bed with her arms folded and waited. But when someone eventually showed up with her helmet in tow, she was surprised to see that it was somewhat worse for the wear but perfectly intact. Even up close, with the helmet out the tech’s hands and in her own, Kara couldn’t detect even the slightest blemish in the glass.

Pouting ever so slightly, Kara shoved the helmet back into the tech’s arms.

“… Satisfied?” Alex asked, rolling her eyes when Kara just shrugged one shoulder. “Great. Listen… You just need to get some rest, okay? Once you’re back to full strength, we can work through your… you know, memories together. And hopefully, it’ll make more sense by then. Sound good?”

Kara just nodded, suddenly all too willing to be left to her own devices in the relative quiet and darkness. She accepted a gentle shoulder squeeze and the promise of another session with the sun lamps within the hour, and just curled up under the sheets.

It’s not like she hadn’t conjured up images of Lena before. Kara had been close to death enough times that it was only inevitable that she’d fall back onto memories of her dead wife at some point or another. But this was different. Whenever her brain was just playing tricks on her, Lena appeared to her the way Kara remembered her: warm and loving, bright green eyes, long dark hair smelling of lavender, and alive and young.

Never before had Kara encountered an appropriately aged version of Lena, with creases gathered around her eyes and forehead, hair gloriously faded into the most lovely blend of light grays and white amongst all that black… The Lena that could have been if only she had lived out all these past years alongside Kara.

And she was never in a lexo-suit, of all things. Lena was always wearing one of her classic pencil skirts or Kara’s NCU sweatshirt, or something. Oh, and of course, her wedding band.

Instinctively, the same way she always did when it occurred to her, Kara reached for the chain around her neck, seeking out the familiar weight of the rings that hung from there… only to jolt upright with a gasp that dried up her entire throat.

She ripped the necklace off her head, almost snapping the chain, which in and of itself was telling. Because her chain had been forged out of an extraterrestrial metal amalgamation that not even the Girl of Steel would have been able to break. The one now clutched in her hand, however, was just plain white gold.

Heart pounding in her ears, Kara stared down at an engagement ring fitted with a modest cut of diamond, somehow occupying the very spot where two simple wedding bands—hers and her Lena’s—should have been. Then something drove her to check for an inscription, and sure enough, engraved on the inside of the ring was a series of kryptonian characters, denoting a term of endearment that Kara had never used, but apparently could have in another world altogether: my dearest heart.

#2222 words because that's how i get my kicks n' giggles hue hue hue hue #will there be a part three? who knows #better question is Should there be a part three amirite? #my words.

[gildedmuse]

Hey, everyone.

So recently I've (predictably) very not well. Actually, whenever I don't post for long periods, just assume my body is trying to kill me. But I've gotten messages from three people asking if I. Okay, which is super sweet. I am actually trying to work on the next All Hearts, a really long ZoLaw post and two request fics, but mixing chronic kidney pain and capitalist society's mandate to work 40+ hours is not recommended.

But to prove I'm okay and still me, here is some Shanks antics with him being a total slut while Mihawk and Beckman just roll their eyes and go along with it. [Shout out to @jhaernyl who not only listens to me ramble about this stuff, but actively encourages it]. I also have many thoughts on the latest episodes and so many screenshots it's embarrassing. Hopefully, when I'm in less pain, I'll get around to actually posting those. Otherwise I just look like an insane person who literally takes by the second frame shots every time Zoro is on screen.

.... What is that? I look like that anyway? Fair.

Shanks Is A Bad Influence

It feels like Buggy and Shanks split up after Roger's death (the crew was told to, and they are the only ones who went to his execution) and I find it impossible to think Shanks didn't immediately set out and find a crew; like, pirating is the only thing this kid knows in life. This means two things:

He set out from East Blue. Also, he seemed at ease and familiar with the East so it's possible he spent like a year there getting everything together. Maybe he even played around in the other blues for a while before heading back to the Grand Line. I say this because his crew is from all over so either he found and recruited them in the Grand Line or visited various blues. Either way, I'm gonna say it took him about two years before getting a 'proper' start. In that case, he would have started out properly at the age of 17 and we know One Piece likes it's parallels.

That still puts Shanks at 17 to Benn Beckmen's 28. How the fuck did Shanks manage that? I'd call it grave robbing, but let's face it, the little tyke probably got up to some actual robbing of graves as well.

My point being everytime Shanks teases Mihawk about keeping this 19 year old kid on his personal island, mostly shirtless, Benn Beckmen just lifts an eyebrow.

Excuse me, captain, who had prefected the 'opps still don't have my sea legs' trip-and-fall into their first mates lap by the age of 17?

Shanks: Beckmen, you caught me! *Shamelessly nuzzles up* Thank goodness! I could be a devil's fruit user after all and - Ahh!

Benn: *Drops Shanks straight over the side of the ship into the water*

Shanks: *Sputtering* What what that!?

Benn: Checking to see if you had eaten a devil's fruit on us, Capatin.

Benn: You didn't.

Smart ass. But he can't resist Shanks forever. Shanks will wear him down eventually.

Next time Mihawk tracks him down for another match - because you know he gets bored way quicker than he'll ever admit and Shanks is at least amusing a challenge - Shanks makes a big deal out of how Mihawk follows him around, "accidentally" revealing they slept together, sighing about how it's so hard to resist him.

Benn Beckmen is just leaning against the side of the ship, sipping his booze.

Shanks: -and I can't stay for hours like last time!!

Mihawk: Are you quite done?

Shanks: *whispering* Does Benn look jealous?

Mihawk: He looks bored. Much like I am. Is this some strange attempt to get out of my challenge, Akagami?

Shanks: What? No, come on I told you I was game. But, hey, could you do me a favor? Maybe like try and kiss me or something? Like take a swing like your going to hit me but then stop shot and grab me by the waist instead.

Mihawk: .... Trickery is beneath you. Besides, you're absolute rubbish at it.

Shanks: Oh, come on, I would totally help you get laid if you asked!

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* I want a proper match afterwards.

Mihawk: *In a forced, monotone voice* After this I will take you to my lair and have my way with you, Akagami.

Mihawk: ... My lair? Really?

Shanks: *Holding up cue card with quickly scribbled line* What? That is how you talk.

Mihawk: I can't believe I wasted precious hours of light tracking you to this atrociously rural port.

Shanks: See? Now, read the next one.

Benn: Captain? If this is going to take all night, I am going to go join the rest of the men in the tavern.

Shanks: Huh? Wait! Benn! What if Miha really stabs me this time!?

Benn: *Salutes Shanks with his bottle* Sounds like that is his plan captain. Have a good 'challenge'.

Shanks: What? No... *Reaching out hand, like he might die if Benn leaves, looking completely devastated* Not even a little jealous...

Mihawk: You couldn't have thought that pantomime would actually work.

Shanks: Benny, don't leave me.... *Turns to Mihawk, immediately brightening* Oh, well, there's always tomorrow. Hey, Miha, guess whose free all night and horny as a pirate in the calm belt?

Mihawk: .... *Sigh* Very well.

Mihawk might as well get something for the trip he made. Although, he's reconsidering if the sex was actually worth the trouble after he ends up listening to Shanks worry half the night that Benn is shacking up with someone else (after a couple hours of rough and raw fucking, admittedly).

Is it the hat? He likes his captain's hat. Miha, you think his captain's hat is sexy, don't you?

Mihawk: It's utterly ridiculous.

Shanks: ....

Shanks: ....

Shanks: *Smile* Ahh, Miha, I knew you liked the hat!

Shanks: What do you old Northerns find sexy?

Mihawk: I am only four years older than you.

Mihawk: And silence.

Trying to convince Mihawk to go spy on Beckman for him. Shanks doesn't actually care if he does sleep with someone else, it's more that Beckman didn't immediately turn angry and jealous like Buggy would have that has him paranoid.

Mihawk is going to fuck this annoying red head again just to shut him up.

Mihawk: Maybe he doesn't like red haired boys who don't know when to be quiet?

The next morning Shanks is pacing among his poor crew that's gotten stuck listening to Shanks obsess about Beckman again. IS IT REALLY THE HAIR!?

It's not even a matter of Shanks's age (or obvious immaturity). I mean, Beckman got on board and stayed, didn't he? Beckman just enjoys watching Shanks try so hard to get his attention. Like Benn's attention isn't constantly on Shanks. He had to when his captain is always one step away from disaster.

He only left him with Mihawk because it was clear Dracule is not a real danger to Beckman's captain.

Except maybe insulting him to death. But Beckman is pretty sure Shanks can handle it. He's met Buggy. He's suspects Shanks LIKES it if anything.

It gets to the point where when they dock somewhere and see Mihawk waiting, or come back to the ship and spot his familiar silhouette, most of the crew goes off somewhere for another drink (sometimes the newer kids will stay to watch such an awesome fight, everyone else is like... Look, you'll have plenty of opportunities later. This is not a one off.)

Benn just takes a look around, nods to Mihawk (a silent signal for, "he's all yours, do with him as you please, if anything happens to him I will track you down and make sure your last few hours on this blue world are as painful as humanly possible") and heads off.

Oh, it's just the Hawk boy.

That's fine then.

Benn use to be a sailor on a trade ship between the North, East, West and Grand Line. He's seen it all.

They called him The Gun Slinger BEFORE he joined Shanks's crew and became a pirate.

So this young, broke ass kid from the streets of some near artic northern island trying to pass himself off as a Lower North rich type has a thing for his captain? Not really enough to keep Beckman up at night, no matter how good at swords he's supposed to be

Besides, he's pretty sure for the kid to keep tracking down Shanks, he must be bored out of his skull. He's not going to do anything to endanger their captain.

Not if Shanks is the only thing he can find to keep him entertained.

One day, Mihawk is going to be waiting on the dock when a bunch of Red Haired pirates are stumbling home, laughing and chattering amongst themselves (Shanks's crew always seems to be in a good mood). One of them will catch sight if Mihawk and walk by with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

The captain's occupied. Seems likely he'll be 'occupied' for a good while, too.

Mihawk won't smile, but he will think "So you finally warmed him up to you, Akagami?" and snort lightly.

Poor Benn, though. Mihawk could never imagine being with someone so much younger than him. Shanks is only four years his junior and already it strains Mihawk to put up with his occasional moments of "youthful whimsy" (aka being an annoying, immature child)

"A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair"

Mihawk just putting that on his Not To Do List.

That lasted until Roronoa.

(Mihawk just looking at Zoro knowing this is bad news.)

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

*Cross out, scribbles*

*Hands back to Benn*

Do Not Do:

- A young, cocky pirate with strangely colored bright hair a silly hat, who is overly dramatic and in any way, shape or form related to Gol D Rogers.

Ace: Hey what's up?

Mihawk: *Takes list from Benn*

Go ahead, Benn, laugh it up. Mihawk is aware he has a type. Young, pretty, and utterly insane.

After that night where Shanks was otherwise 'occupied', it's over six months before Mihawk sees his friend his rival again. He is, as expected, far too smug and proud looking.

Shanks: Oh, Miha, so sorry you came all this way, I'm-

Benn: Well, I'm off, captain.

Shanks: What!? But we, you, I... Benn, hessoeexyarentyouworriedforyourcaptain?

Benn: *patting Mihawk on the shoulder* Have fun with him. Don't forget to return him by noon tomorrow, we have a schedule. Oh, but if you can babysit him for at least four hours? That would be great.

Shanks: BABYSIT!?

Mihawk: I suppose I can be troubled to do so.

Shanks: TROUBLED!?

Benn: Thanks, Hawkeyes. I owe you.

Shanks: *Fake tears clinging to his lashes* You two are so mean!

No, don't feel bad for him. Shanks is just trying to guilt the two of them into bed at the same time, and they both know it.

Thanks no thanks, they're not into that. But Shanks can be pretty cute when he's trying so hard (Benn) and at least he's not as boring as everything else in this world (Mihawk) so they allow him to keep up the act

Shanks: *looking at Zoro's wanted poster over Mihawk's shoulder* But I feel like you'd gladly go to bed with him and his captain if he asked. That doesn't seem fair to me. You'd never go that far with me and Benn.

Mihawk: *Eyes Benn*

Mihawk: *DEAD. ONLY.*

Mihawk: I have my reasons.

They can and do agree on plenty of things, including reciprocally not being that attracted to each other.

Shanks: Sounds fake to me

Shanks: But guys!

Shanks: This isn't about you

He's gonna need you guys to drop the egos and focus on what HE wants. I.E., being in the middle of two sexy Northern men.

Honestly, so mean to poor Shanks!

#I LIVE #here have some #shanks x mihawk #shanks x beckman #shanks x buggy #mihawk x zoro #and you know there is some Law x Zoro goong on I just didn't cover it #I like my men like I like my civil war sides #Northern #idk but here you go #Shanks #akagami no shanks #dracule mihawk #benn beckman #DEAD ONLY #roronoa zoro #one piece #one piece fanfiction #but not really #just random fun #I jump between time periods like a game of hopscotch #what you gonna do about it #get lost probably

[ackerpreach]

This ending .... I can name 500 reasons and I will name them right now, because I don’t think I’m the only one who is upset with how things turned out. (Also, A positive message for all of you at the end)

MAJOR LEAKS SPOILERS/ READ WITH CAUTION

Update: after reading more theories from fellow RM bloggers, and sleeping over it one day, this entire chapter might be an april fools... Don't fully lose hope yet beautiful people. It's me just giving a review on a possible fake April fools chapter

After following this franchise since 2013, so nearly a DECADE. this ending is a pure disserve to the entire fandom. I feel like Yams has rushed it just for the sake of being done with the entire manga. So many things are left open, characters and their developemt are reverted back all the way to chapter 1 or are left even worse than that...

Mikasa’s worthless character development/ Aaronmika’s horrible toxic codependent relationship 

Oh honey... Let’s start with how horrible Isayama has treated her. We were all rooting for her, because we all felt like she was so misunderstood. She had a horrible childhood and imprinted on a guy who treated her like trash 99 percent of the story. And then, slowly but surely, she starts to realize she has to stop obsessing over him in the uprising arc with the help of a real man who treats her like a queen, more importantly, he treats her like a real human being. This man sees her for her abilities and that she has the power to be self dependent. She learned parts of herself, that she was able to work together with him like no one else could.  She learned parts of herself she was unable to do so if she kept obsessing about Aaron. All this love, care, mutual understanding and RESPECT these two shared. 

but...NAH FUCK THAT, right Yams?? Throw all this development away, all this bonding. Let’s make the main female lead even more yandere than she already was in the first season. Let her make out with his decapacitated head (like dude, this is also pure disrespect to Aaron’s dead body btw) and let her obsess even more about the guy who has treated her no better than a piece of toilet cloth 99 percent of the time. The guy who was never really appreciative in front of her for saving his ass billions of times, who always pushed her away, who yells at her and snaps at her whenever he can instead of reasoning and talking calmly with her in mature way. (EVEN PARODY YOUTUBE CHANNELS WHO DONT SHIP ANYTHING MAKE IT A TROPE WHERE AARON TELLS MIKASA HE HATES HER GUTS WHENEVER HE CAN) 

Then after all that, suddenly Yams tries to last minute persuade us Aaron’s always been head over heels for her???  He should have build their relationship better which he hasn’t even tried to do so... He must be thinking his fans are stupid for eating this from his hands.    

Like seriously??? What is this??? 

Isayama is just fully contradicting himself. It’s like someone tipped him off with a buttload of money for him to write Aaron like this to satisfy shipping needs and to cash in those extra money’s from it. Even if he tried to cater to Erem*ika, this is not how you write a loving and caring couple which people will root for. 

This next two panels just freaking infuriates me to the core of my soul. I can’t even describe how dissapointed I am with Mikasa. 

Why is she clutching that head so obsessively like that?  Why is she walking and turning her back away from her comrades? After everything they have done for her, after all they’ve been through?! After everything Armin has done? Standing up for Mikasa, beating up Aaron for hurting her. I feel like even Jean, Connie and Sasha have cared more for her in a healthy way.  Sure, Aaron cares for her romantically too apparently (What a twist Yams :)), but has he aided her to becoming a mentally healthier individual? Has he aided in her mental stability? The answer is a big fat NO!  All I see between these two after today’s raw Chapter’s are too Yandere obsessed individuals who have no clue on how to maintain a healthy relationship. 

Love should only go as far as the heart can endure and it seems like her character is not willing to be aware of that. Even Armin was able to let go of Aaron in those latest panels. Why does her entire character resolve around this guy??? I really do not understand. Her Ackerbond and her age is not an excuse for her to throw her life away like this. 

Shonen’s disgusting portrayal of women 

I’ve seen this countless of times in the many years I’ve watched anime. SasuS*ku from Naruto, Ichih*me from Bleach, Shinji and that oranged hair girl from Neon Evangelion.. Why do these women get decreased to simpletons with one single goal? And that is to obsess over a bland male lead who either treats them like trash or doesn’t notice them up until the last last chapter (LITERALLY WHAT YAMS HAS DONE). Some go even as far as the male leading wanting the kill the female love interest and yet the female lead is still in love with them???. It’s disgusting for him to write the MAIN female character this way. 

It’s dissapointing we believed in Isayama doing Mikasa’s character right. That she’s finally being able to let go of her codependency and to live for herself maybe live in Hizuru and find more about her roots???, but every single time she shows some improvement, it’s burried deep in the ground again by the Author. It almost seems like a lowkey kink of some of the male Mangaka’s to write about a girl obsessing over them no matter what. I see this so many times to the point that I truly stand behind it that some of them might have this fantasy. 

I wished he didn’t portray her last panels like this. Everyone else is living their lives while Mikasa is still grieving about him. I’m not saying she’s not allowed to grieve and everyone takes it at their own pace, but cmon... Show her living her life too. This is too much. Her being next to his grave and grieving him as her last panels just shoves it in our faces that YET AGAIN, BEING OBSESSED WITH AARON IS ALL HER CHARACTER STANDS FOR. 

I truly despise how Isayama handles her grieving, kissing his decapacitated head, carrying it around like some handbag, and her last panels being thissss.

The world leaving Paradis alone miraciously after all that??? 

It’s so weird and out of place with so many political feuds and disagreements between the world and Paradis, the entire Rumbling happening and we can see Mikasa just chilling outside in Paradis with no one bothering them. You can see the rings of the walls in the picture below.  I don’t know the exact reason behind as the manga is still in Korean, but from what I see, the story went the route of: throwing a happy ending without enough proper reason and  it was all fixed just like that in a snap! It doesn’t fit the entire narrative of attack on titan for things to be so peacful out of nowhere. When it comes to the narrative, how things work in that world, how hard it is to achieve peace, everything made somewhat sense up until chapter 138. 139 seems so so out of place...  It’s like I’m reading a chapter from a totally different manga. 

Aaron Yoghurt got defeated so easily/ Aaron’s character assassination

The build up on the first part of the rumbling was great, those kids carrying coins. You could feel humanity’s fear and Aaron’s hatred in those pages. As if he truly had a goal and he has turned away completely from his comrades and his closest friends with no return. The world seemed truly doomed, but he  got defeated just like that. He was in the nape all this time (because screw the warhammer power of hiding yourself elsewhere in his ginormous titan body). There is no master plan as we all expected, and in the end he just acts all yandere in the paths with Armin and that’s it... They massacared his entire character as well. Many fan theories created a better ending with his character. Him being reincarnated as Historia’s baby would be so much better. For him to still keep on seeking and to strive for power. It has always been his motive. It’s his personality from the start until chapter 138. Even if things are okay, to keep on going and to seek that adventure, but then.. He’s so weak and directionless suddenly.. It’s so weird... This is not Aaron at all???

Using Aaron for him this entire post, because I don’t want others to invade our tags... :)))

Historia’s baby 

The only panel we got from Historia’s child was this. Just a normal kid, normal life... Why did Isayama put so much effort in highlighting Historia’s pregnancy if it was nothing too spectacular anyway? It seemed he had major plans for this kid and for their development too??? It’s again, big plans, big developments, big relationship dynamic, but all  got thrown out of the window... 

Don’t read the next sentence if you are a minor :’) 

It’s like almost ejaculating, but stopping right before it and repeating that every single Arc.

My energy when writing about this chapter is the same as Nostalgia Critic and his hatred for atla the live action

In Conclusion...

I know us fans should not be deciding on how this story should end, because this is Isayama’s story after all, but I truly wished for him to wrap up things much more rounded. There are so many unanswered questions... Again, I think for the sake of being done with this manga, he rushed all of it. He’s become a millionaire from this story and now his pockets are jammed full, I guess he doesn’t need to put in any effort anymore, right? Perhaps a controversial opinion, but I really wished he cared for his fans a little bit more with this last chapter by giving some answers that make sense at least. It’s his fans who gave him this platform and the opportunity to tell his story and for him to at least give in a bit of effort especially in the last chapter is the least he can do. Rivamika being canon or not, he truly rushed it without thinking much about the entire story line. He expanded it so much, he didn’t know how to bind it all together.

Even after all this, I’ll still ship them in the headcanon type of way. I do give credit to Isayama for giving us a template for such a beautiful dynamic between Levi and Mikasa. He decides to waste it, but that doesn’t mean we have to.  I want to thank all the people with amazing writing skills, the ones who give us beautiful art like @carmenlee @phit chan @vialesana​ and many more. I want to remind all of you that we can create something beautiful of our own and we don’t neccesarily need canon lore for that. The art I’ve seen, the fanfictions I’ve read have touched me deeper than Isayama ever could at times.The Mikasa in our mind is appreciate of Levi, is mature, classy and has a strong will for herself. They spend their remaining days together peacefully. Keep writing, keep drawing, stay creative. 

I love you all so so much, I’ve only been publicly active since March, but thank you Rivamika fandom for giving me so much joy as a lurker these past 7 years <3

#rivamika #snk leaks #snk 139 leaks #levimika #mikalevi

[nightwishesworld]

A Better Way

Because I am unhappy with our beloved wife’s death I decided to write my own.

That being said...SPOILERS!!!!!!!! I wrote this based on and referenced canon events in the game. If you wanna skip this and wait for the game’s official release in a few days I completely understand.

Alcina’s form trembles atop the pile of rubble she created during their fall. Somehow that lowlife Ethan survived the fall as well. Fuck, what does it take to kill that man? Even in her monstrous form, she failed to stop a flimsy little mortal man. Is he really that powerful? Or is she simply the weak little rat Mother Miranda always said she was? The answer is obvious now.

Alcina knows this is it for her. There is no winning or even recovering from this. She’s lost way too much blood and is in no state to replenish herself. She hears him stumble to his feet somewhere beside her and grab his gun. It doesn’t bother her anymore. Even now as she turns to stare down the barrel of a shotgun she knows she deserves what’s to come. She failed in her task.

Everyone that depends on her is now in grave danger and it’s all her fault. Because she wasn’t good enough to protect her family from a single human man.

Her family....

Images of her beautiful daughters' lifeless piles of ash lying abandoned on the floor like yesterday’s garbage hurt her more than any weapons could hope to. What kind of mother let her daughters, her own flesh and blood, get slaughtered because she was too incompetent to take care of a little pest? A failure of a mother. Their blood is on her hands, not Ethan’s.

Mother Miranda will have to make the call to Heisenberg to let him know why Ethan is on his way to the factory. And about them. After everything that this woman has done for her and her family and this is how Alcina repays her? How pathetic of her. And her little brother as well. She’s failed everyone she cared about on this god-forsaken earth.

Alcina sighs as Ethan cocks his gun and inches closer and closer to her. After letting out a long exhale she opens her eyes and stared down at him. He’s in shit-shape but he’ll survive. Suddenly that doesn’t sound so bad. If he can finish the job, at least.

“Do it,” she whispers, and her voice cracks. Alcina will not cry in front of this vile creature; she refuses. “I am nothing without the love of my daughters. I’d rather die than live a day without their presence.”

She could have sworn she saw a hint of remorse flash across his bloodied features before he grounded himself once more. He probably didn’t even believe her. Why would he? All he sees is a hideous beast that needs to slain. Not a broken-hearted mother mourning the loss of her darling children. No one has ever seen them for who they really are. Pity.

Her head hangs and she catches a glimpse of his shadow, his arms raising.

“I deserve this,” Alcina thinks to herself.

BANG!

Karl Heisenberg was sitting in his office, legs stretched atop his desk glazing over files. Pretending to work so no one would bother him. He was so lost in his own little fantasy land that the phone ringing next to him nearly started him out of his chair.

He let out a dramatic groan, knowing full well it was Alcina calling to continue their petty argument from earlier. A chuckle escaped his mouth remembering how he told her to drop dead before hanging up.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and begrudgingly brought the phone to his ear.

“Didn’t I tell you earlier to-“

“Heisenberg!” Mother Miranda’s voice spoke. The man nearly choked on air when he heard her voice.

“Miranda! Apologies, I thought it was Alcina calling me.”

Mother Miranda paused, but only for a moment. Her tone was as it always was; calm with a hint of disappointment. “That is what I am calling about, actually. Alcina failed to keep Mr. Winters under control and he escaped. I can only assume he is making his way over to you now.”

“Alcina and the girls, are they-“

“No longer assets we need to be concerned about. The Ceremony will continue on schedule with or without them, is that understood?”

He was completely floored. His beloved, pain in the ass, older sister is dead. And what of his adorable little gremlin nieces? They’re gone too? How can Miranda possibly expect him to just-“

“Is that understood, Heisenberg?”

He cleared his throat and nodded as if she could see him. “Of course, Miranda. The preparation will continue as-“

She hung up.

Heisenberg put the phone down and buried his head in his hands. He didn’t feel anything. Only numbness. The longer he sat there thinking about them the harder to became to think about the stupid ceremony. Or that human parasite on its way to him.

His anger got the best of him and he slammed his fists down on the desk. “To hell with Mother Miranda.”

He called one of his lackeys in and filled them in on the basics of the situation, warning him about Ethan mostly. Heisenberg was to depart for Castle Dimitrescu as soon as possible. Let the lycans have fun with their new incoming chew toy until his return.

The ride up to the castle was ghostly. He expected to hear the girls’ laughter as he entered the main doors as they always do when he visits. They were always happy to see their dear Uncle Heisenberg.

Cassandra’s ash pile was the first to be found. Simply because it was out in the open by the entrance leading down to the basement. It was obviously her because the smell of her lilac perfume was still infused in her ashes. He kneeled beside it and stroked it gently between his fingers, whispering apologies and words of comfort. Both for him and Cassandra. Then he took an old pendant necklace from his pocket and ever so gently, scooped some of her ashes into it.

“There you are, Cass. Safe and sound with me.”

On a hunch he decided to look around the basement before searching the rest of the castle for Bela and Daniela. He already knew where Alcina was resting. Bela was indeed laid in one of the extraction rooms of the basement. She collapsed behind a pillar as if she were trying to hide or shield herself. Heisenberg did the same thing and scooped up her ashes in his necklace, this time kissing the pads of his fingers and laying them on the ash pile.

Daniela was next. She was in the library, literally on the other side of the door. Heisenberg cursed himself for unintentionally spreading her ashes as he opened the door and nearly stepping on the poor girl. He stayed with her longer because of this, whispering a thousand apologies to her. The way she was laid down made Heisenberg think Daniela tried to escape and came really close to doing so.

A few tears streamed down his cheeks as she gathered her ashes in his pendant. That man will pay for what he’s done. For taking such innocent souls from the world that had so much more in store for them.

His beloved sister was last. She wasn’t where he thought she would be, which he found odd, but taking a closer look around it all made sense. The damn burst behind his eyes and he openly cried for the first time in decades.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, soothing his sister’s large heap of ashes. “I didn’t mean literally, Alcina.”

He grabbed a fist full of ash and clutched it to his chest. “I’m so sorry, sister. I should have helped you trapped that rat when he escaped me the first time. But I won’t let that happen again.”

Just like with the girls, he scooped up some of her ashes in the pendant. But this time instead of putting it back around his neck he gave it a few delicate shakes, mixing the four of them together as one.

“There. Now you’ll always be together; in this eternity and the next.”

He stayed there next to her for the rest of the night. They talked for hours (though it was a one-sided conversation) and watched the stars flicker into existence as the sunset. When there were enough of them out he pointed out the various constellations to her. The entire night went on like this; acting as if nothing had changed since they were children.

The sun was just starting to rise over the grassy green hills. Radiant shades of pink and gold colored the sky like never before. It was almost like looking at heaven itself. Early birds sang their song of the morning as they flew swiftly across the sky to wake the rest of the woodland creatures and the residents of the village.

Heisenberg exhaled a shaky breath. “I better be off, Sissy. Miranda will have my head if I don’t deal with that rat before the ceremony. But don’t you worry, I’ll take care of all four of you once this shitstorm has passed. You’ll be given proper burials and everyone will have a chance to say goodbye.”

He could feel the tears starting to build up again. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you or the girls. You’re a royal pain in my ass, but you’re still my big sister and I love you.”

The ride back to the factory was comforting. There was still a heavy weight on his shoulders, but he never expected it to go away. It will only go away after exacting his revenge. When he finds that man, oh boy is he in for a treat. The lycans should have done some damage to him already or at least exhausted him. Ethan is weak now. It’s time to strike back.

No one harms Karl Heisenberg’s family and gets away with it.

#Lady Dimitrescu #lady Alcina #tall vampire lady #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #resident evil 8

[onthedgeofthend]

ending thoughts of the song of achilles bc my mind would NOT let me sleep until i wrote this

i get thetis like honestly i didn’t really like her in the beginning but she’s not bad cool even

idk what else Odysseus has done in literally anything eles but he seems like he would be fun to talk too

i agree with plato

when ever achilles and patroclus’ relationship is brought up patroclus is quick to worry over achilles’ honor

i really really like briseis like really really like her

i also think deidamra was cool too like i know~ she doesn’t have a really great character but she feels human

the part in the middle did lag a bit but out of it we got a good briseis + patroclus friendship and i like it

that one meme where it’s like a balloon with the words “male ego” written in it and someone is about to pop it was not lying

like no seriously patroclus probably wouldnt have died had it not been for achilles and agamemnon’s ridiculously high egos and “honor”

adding on to that hearing (reading) achilles say “ “I wish he had let you all die” was very very very very nice

anyways i would definitely read this again

i really hate patroclus’ birth father, you just don’t say shit like that to children

i really like that part when patroclus killed a man (by acccident) but before we knew he said the words “Our land was one of grass and wheat. Tumbles should not hurt. I am making excuses. It was also a land of rocks.” and idk why i just vibe with this sentence

i think it’s interesting how in the begining achilles arrogance and confidence was a source of anger for patroclus and then it was love and admiration and then it was anger again

i only just now realized that many of the men of pithia were the boy who achilles’ dad fostered so like,,, they know achilles and patroclus

like achilles and patroclus were away from them for three years and then all of a sudden they were back and leading them in battle

like imagine ur “friend” (or atleast the popular kid you hung around bc he was popular) from seventh grade just up leaves and then his weird friend followed him and then in tenth grade they come back ~way~ closer and then the popular kids leaves and for a month the weird kid looks half dead AND suicidal and then he leaves and then they comeback and all of a sudden ur fighting a war and a decade passed and the weird kid (who doesn’t fight) is leading you all into battle and kicking ass and then he dies and then the popular kid goes into a rage kill a shit ton of ppl and then he dies and not a moment later (a steel chair??!!) you learn that apparently while the weird kid was looking half dead the popular kid made a fucking kid and now a fucking twelve year old is your commander ANDD let’s not forget because the twelve year old didn’t put the weird kids name on the grave next to the popular kid now he haunts your fucking dreams and oh yeah the popular kids son (who’s an asshole btw) leads you to the end of the war (though your dreams are still haunted by the weird kid till the end of it

absolutely fucking wild

#tsoa #patroclus #achilles #briseis #greek myths #odessyus #the song of achilles #books #patroclus x achilles #i probably have more thoughts but this is it for now #i fell asleep while making this last night

[matthewfairchildfanclub]

TSC except it's incorrect quotes and it's part 2 and it's really fucking long sorry.

Cordelia: I like your top.

James, wearing a very bright shirt: Thank-

Matthew: Thanks dude, I like you to.

_

Anna: Gender is a game and I have the cheat codes.

_

Clary, at Starbucks: Can I get a venti caramel macchiato with, uh... seven shots of espresso.

Simon, behind her: Jesus Christ, Clary, just do cocaine.

_

James: If you were to die, what would be your last words?

Matthew: Finally.

James: No-

_

Izzy, on the phone with Magnus: Is it okay if I bring my weird roommate?

Simon: Would you please stop calling me that.

_

Clary: You sure you're sober enough to drive?

Jace: Yeah, I didn't drink anything.

Clary: Okay, go get the car.

Alec: [running after Jace]

Clary: It's okay, he's sober!

Alec: HE DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE!

_

Will: Jem, you have beautiful eyes.

Jem: You too.

Tessa: ...

Tessa: Did I miss something?

Will: I'm straight, I just like his eyes.

Tessa: You're gay for his eyes.

Will: Exactly!

Will: Wait, no

_

Lucie, walking out in a new outfit: How do I look?

Matthew: Holy shit, that's the ugliest thing I've ever seen.

Lucie: Excuse you?!

Matthew: No, not you, the thing sitting beside you.

Alastair: Fuck you.

_

Magnus: You sure know a lot about the law.

Julian: I do a lot of borderline illegal shit.

_

Cordelia: Lucie! Don't let go!

Lucie, dangling from the side of the cliff: WHY THE FUCK WOULD I LET GO?!

_

Kit: I think I forgot to sleep because I was looking at memes.

Dru: If you ever wonder why you have no friends, just remember that sentence.

_

Christopher: Oh, tiddlywinks.

Matthew: JUST SAY FUCK

_

Will: Swear words are banned in this house, if you say one you'll be grounded.

Matthew: Heck.

Will: You're on thin fucking ice, kid.

_

Jace: You may not know this, Alec, but I'm a flawed person.

Alec: I do know that.

_

Dru: [reading the exorcist]

Dru: [laughs]

_

Matthew: I know you can be "underwhelmed" and you can be "overwhelmed" but...

Matthew: Can you ever just be whelmed?

James: ...

Christopher: I think you can in Bulgaria!

_

James: I think I'm in love with Cordelia.

Grace: Congratulations! You're officially the last one to know.

_

Tessa: James, what are you doing here? Weren't you making spaghetti tacos with Mattew, Christopher, and Thomas?

James: Well, I was.

Tessa: ... was?

James: Well, I- it was just getting hot downstairs because of the fire.

Tessa: THE WHAT?!

(Downstairs the kitchen is completely on fire)

Christoper, looking around while Matthew and Thomas try to put the fire out with olive oil: Oh, this isn't good.

_

Jace: Please shut up.

Simon: Well, since you asked nicely, no.

_

Will: No pain, no gain!

Matthew: But I'm in constant pain and I've lost everything-

_

Matthew: If you'll excuse me, I must attend to my evening affairs.

James: You mean drinking wine and eating gummy bears until you pass out on a chaise?

Cordelia: Or reading Layla and Majnun and crying in the bath because they didn't deserve it?

Lucie: Or shouting your own poetry from your balcony?

Matthew: All three, in that order.

_

Will: What have I told you about comparing Tatiana to the devil?

Lucie: ... that it's offensive to the devil?

_

Jamie: These people are my friends!

Jamie: I've known them for twelve hours!

_

Clary: What are we gonna do?

Simon: Don't worry, you're so small they probably won't see you.

Clary: Simon, is this really the time to be making short jokes?

Simon: Clary, it's never not the time, because just like you, life is short.

_

Matthew, drunk: Always strive to eat the stars.

Lucie, half asleep: Aren't they too hot?

Matthew: Blow on them first, idiot.

_

Cashier: Would you like your check?

Ty: If someone is being murdered right now it would be my alibi, but if someone gets murdered in the store they could pin it on me.

Cashier: Sir?

Ty: I want to speak to a lawyer.

_

Magnus: If you had to choose between Jace and all the money I have in my pocket, which would you choose.

Alec: Depends. How much money are we talking about?

Jace: Alec????

Magnus: Eleven cents.

Alec: Sold.

Jace: ALEC?!!??!?!

_

Alastair: Cursing is for those who have a limited vocabulary.

Matthew: You are an audacious, ideologically unsound, captious, presumptuous, motherfucker.

_

Clary: Hey, uh, maybe we need Simon's help with this one?

Jace: I would literally rather die.

_

Cristina: Name a way to be nice to people.

Kieran: Don't stab them.

Cristina: ...

Cristina: Setting the bar a little low but I'll allow it.

_

Tessa: Where have you been?

Will: Emotional hell.

_

Kit: I made you all of you into Sims, look.

Jace: Where are you?

Kit: I'm in the grave in the backyard.

Jace:

Clary:

Jace: Put me there to.

Clary: Oh my god-

_

Emma: I have the sharpest memory, name one time I forgot something.

Zara: You forgot me in a Walmart parking lot, like, three weeks ago.

Emma: I did that on purpose, try again.

_

Matthew: Will, did you know "thot" means "thoughtful person."

Will: Really? I did not know this modern slang.

(later)

Will: Thank you for helping me with the stables, Tessa, you're such a thot.

Tessa, wheezing: I'm a WHAT?

_

Julian: [choking]

Kit: I'm trying to call 911 but the 9 button isn't working!

Dru: Just flip your phone upside down and use the 6.

Julian, stopping his choking for a second: What the fu-

_

Emma, getting in the front seat: Alright, is everyone ready to go?

The Blackthorns: Yep!

Emma: Okay, let's go.

(looks into the mirror to see Zara running after the van)

Emma: [whispers to herself] Goodbye you little shit.

_

Cordelia: What the hell is going on??

Matthew: Oh, great, you heard my cry for help.

Cordelia: You mean your girly scream?

Matthew: I MEAN MY CRY FOR HELP

_

James: The risk I took was calculated.

James: But holy shit am I bad at math.

_

Izzy and Magnus: [getting arrested at a protest]

Cop: Fake ID's, fake credit card. Got anything on you that's real?

Izzy: My tits.

Magnus: My ass.

_

[in a group chat]

Dru: Adding "lmao" does not hide your pain.

Kit: Yeah it does lmao.

_

Matthew: Excuse me, who made James the boss of the group.

Christopher: You did.

Thomas: You said, "James should be the boss".

Lucie: And then you said, "lets vote," and it was unanimous.

Cordelia: And then you made him a plaque that says, "Boss Of Us".

Anna: And put little sparkles all over it.

Matthew: ... All valid points.

_

Matthew: And once again, James and Matthew save the day.

Lucie: You didn't do anything.

Thomas: It was all James.

Matthew: We're a package deal. Everyone knows that.

_

Jem: I am not "too nice"!

Will: Jem, you apologized-

Jem: I have manners!

Will: -to the waiter who spilled soup on your lap.

_

Kit: You wanna see how hardcore I am?

Kit: [punches a wall]

Kit: Take me to the hospital.

_

Julian: People ask me how I handle the rest of my family so easily.

Julian: The truth is, I don't.

Julian: I have no control over them.

Julian: I walked into the house today and Mark shot me in the neck with a nerf gun.

_

(At a New Years Eve party)

Alec, to the TMI gang: I would like to make a toast!

Alec, raising his glass: I cannot believe we have gone through another twelve months of absolute fuckery.

Alec: Cheers!

#tmi #tda #tid #tlh #the mortal instruments #the infernal devices #the dark artifices #the last hours #kit herondale #matthew fairchild #mathew fairchild #james herondale #jace herondale #will herondale #jem carstairs #alec lightwood #christopher lightwood #thomas lightwood #lucie herondale #cordelia carstairs #grace blackthorn #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #cristina rosales #jamie rosales #magnus bane #clary fairchild #tessa herondale #alastair carstairs #isabelle lightwood

[that-house]

Viego Rant (villainy and character design and tragedy and all that jazz)

Introduction The more I think about Viego, League of Legends’ newest character, the more enamored I am with him as a villain (unrelated to his general sexiness, though that does tie in with what makes him such a good villain).

I’ve seen a lot of complaints about his design. The Ruined King, one of the greatest threats in Runeterra, the progenitor of the Shadow Isles, the lord of the undead, is finally released as a playable champion and he looks like this:

People were expecting another Mordekaiser (who is similarly an undead king with a ghost army), a lich-tyrant clad in iron, decayed flesh peeling from an aged face. What we got was an angsty anime prettyboy, and it was infinitely better than the alternatives. 

Lore Viego isn’t a conquering king. While his combat abilities are indeed badass, his personality is far from it. He’s a whiny brat and that’s incredible. He isn’t bent on world domination. His character arc revolves around just how human, how fallible he really is. For those unfamiliar with his lore, I’ll paraphrase it here:

Viego was the second son of a great king. Overshadowed by his brother and with no expectations upon him and near-limitless wealth, he wandered around being an idiot fuckboy for the vast majority of his formative years. Disaster struck when his brother died in an accident, and Viego took the throne with no training, no experience, and no desire to be king. He was a shitty king. The worst king. Just all-around apathetic. Gave zero shits. Can you blame him? It’s a lot of responsibility to be thrust upon someone who isn’t much more than a child, and with no preparation. He didn’t care about anything, that is, until he met Isolde. She was a poor seamstress, but he fell in love with her upon their first meeting. Together they ruled the country but it was really just them staring longingly into each others’ eyes. His allies were kinda fucking pissed about that, and one day an assassin came from Viego. The assassin fucked up and stabbed Isolde instead, and the poison on the blade made her fall gravely ill. As she lay in her bed, slowly dying, Viego went mad seeking a cure. He ravaged the land seeking any knowledge that might help, pouring all of his money into finding an antidote. He failed. As a last resort, he brought Isolde’s body to the Blessed Isles, a place rumored to be able to resurrect the dead. It worked, to an extent. Isolde’s wraith, confused, afraid, and angry at being ripped from the peace of death, unthinkingly stabbed Viego in the chest with his own magic sword, creating basically a magic nuke that turned the Blessed Isles into the domain of the undead. Viego resurrected as the king of the Shadow Isles some time later, having totally forgotten that Isolde killed him. He controls a big-ass ghost army, could probably beat up any living thing in a fight, and has evil ghost magic. Now this stupid simp wants his wife back and if he has to kill every living thing on Runeterra, well, anything for his queen. He’s even a tier 3 sub to her Twitch.

Music His musical theme isn’t some heavy metal anthem or intense cinematic piece (unlike the Pentakill song named after his sword, Blade of the Ruined King). It’s mostly sad and slow, almost sinister, with a piano and a music box. It has its loud moments featuring violins and choral bits like any villainous music, but the song is mostly subtle. It is a banger though.

In the comments section of this video, someone pointed out that the music reflects his story from beginning to end:

Everything about this champion is so well done. Riot Games really outdid themselves on this one. Bravo, encore please.

Motivation While the Mordekaiser circlejerkers on r/LeagueofLegends won’t shut the fuck up about how powerful Mordekaiser is, Viego is the better villain. Mordekaiser may be a bigger threat to all life on Runeterra, but Viego is a better character. (There’s a guy on my League discord server who won’t shut up about Mordekaiser so forgive me for being pissed at Morde stans).

Mordekaiser is motivated by a desire for control, to rule the world. Viego is motivated by obsession and misplaced love. There aren’t a lot of Mordekaisers on Earth. Supervillains are rare in real life. But Viego’s motivations are a lot closer to home. People in positions of power that they don’t deserve can do a lot of harm (for example: Trump).

He’s a grieving husband who was never prepared to deal with anything more difficult than choosing what wine to drink with dinner, who is trying to get his wife back because the world had always complied to his every whim. He’s a funky mix between a truly hopeless romantic and a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum.

Obsession is scary. It’s a real-world emotional state that’s been the cause of a lot of murders over mankind’s history. In contrast, Mordekaiser’s cartoonish Genghis Khan XXL schtick isn’t something that we encounter often. Of course a superpowered ultradictator would be worse for the world, but if you give ultimate power to a random person, you’re more likely to get someone like Tighten from Megamind. Or, more relevantly, Viego.

Design His design is sexy and stupid, just like him. He wears an open shirt into battle and wields his sword like an idiot (I’ve seen all the rants about how that’s not how that sword is meant to be used) because he was never really a warrior. Even at his most violent, right before the end of his mortal life, he didn’t do much combat himself, leaving his military endeavors to his underlings. Even now that he’s essentially a god, he still has a colossal wraith army that causes far more devastation than he ever could personally.

Despite his slim build (by League of Legends standards), he easily wields his colossal sword because of the strength of his state of undeath. Like his political power when he was alive, his posthumous magical and physical powers were never something he sought out, they were just given to him by circumstance.

The big cool-ass triangle hole in his chest where Isolde stabbed him is the source of the Black Mist, which is evil ghost mist that ebbs and flows from the Shadow Isles, bringing with it hordes of the undead. The sadder Viego is, the more Mist he creates. Poetically, his invasion of the world is inspired by his sorrow at his wife’s death and enabled by his wife’s reluctance to return to him. His story is perfectly reflected by his design.

Isolde Isolde’s spirit took up residence inside a young Senna (who’s another League champion, not particularly important here). This led to some Black Mist-related shenanigans and at least for the time being, Senna uses Isolde’s power to fight off the servants of Viego which threaten all life on Runeterra.

It seems pretty clear that whatever love Isolde felt for Viego is gone by now. Whether or not she ever loved him or was just unable to say no to the king is up for debate, but I’d like to believe there was something there. In my opinion, Viego’s story hits harder if they really were a great couple at first, torn apart by circumstance and obsession.

Much like the Maiden of the Woods in that one comic that circulates around here, to whom the knight gave his heart and she was like “yo what the fuck i literally never asked you to do this,” Viego went a little too far in trying to save her. They may have once been happy, but the Ruined King ruined his own life, too.

Unless Isolde is a lot less morally decent than we’ve been led to believe, I doubt she can forgive all the massacring that her husband’s been doing lately. In the recent cinematic, she was shown to be pretty anti-Viego. Maybe she’ll get a bastardization arc, but it certainly seems unlikely.

All of Season 2021 is based around Viego, Isolde, and the Shadow Isles, so we’ll just have to see what comes next. It’s possible that we’ll get Isolde as a playable champion, which should clear a lot of things up.

Final Thoughts Unlike so many villains, he’s not fueled by rage or hatred, but rather by sorrow. He’s stuck in his past, unable to move on. He regrets the actions of his life but is set on his course now. The sunk-cost fallacy comes into play here; he’s put so much time and effort and blood into bringing back Isolde, that turning away from it would feel to him like an insult, not only to her but to the innocent lives he’s taken in her name.

His tale is a tragedy, a love story gone horrifically wrong. Viego has suffered throughout his thousand-year life. Despite this, he’s undoubtedly the villain. His permanent death would be a net positive for the world. In has rage and grief he’s destroyed multiple civilizations, and will burn down the world to get Isolde back.

His heart may be in the wrong place, but it’s in a very human place. I don’t think he’ll get the ending he’s looking for, but I hope he finds some closure in the end.

#League of Legends #viego #i swear no one's gonna read this #even if you dont care about League i tried to make this interesting #even if you don't like League as a game the lore is pretty fucking solid

[friendofhayley]

I’m back after my hiatus from fanfiction, to give y’all the best multifandom recs of the fics I read this month. Shoutout to all content creators who helped us live to see the close of this year. This fic includes 15 fics for Sterek, Larry, Winteriron, and Geraskier. The starred ones put me through heaven and hell *chef’s kiss*.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

1. Six Letter Word for Romance by @troubleiwant | domestic kink - omg there’s only one bed - soft Derek - oblivious idiots in love - 6k

Stiles definitely starts off thinking it’s fucking hilarious that Derek-sourwolf-Hale does crosswords and cares about scuffs on his furniture.

But at a certain point, and he can’t pinpoint exactly when, “fully functional adult couple” somehow becomes a massive fetish of his. Derek in sweats and bare feet, nudging his glasses up his nose while he does the Sunday crossword? Unff. Derek filling out forms to get some renovations on his property approved? Oh God, yes. Derek putting away groceries and bitching that the corner store was out of the right type of Greek yogurt? Take me now, Stiles thinks, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

This can’t be normal.

2. *Dirty Little Secret* by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | Cora & Stiles bffs - no one can resist the Stilinski charm - celebrity Derek - human au - 91k

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

3. Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | i genuinely don’t look at authors names i just click i am sorry for spamming you but you write too good - neighbors Sterek - emotionally mature Stiles - the ideal fluffy world you’d want to live in - 53k

Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

4. Theory of Overprotective Canines by @petals42 | derek can turn into wolf - oblivious Stiles - future fic - mutual pining - 11k

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Larry (One Direction)

5. **The Changer and the Changed** by @homosociallyyours | literally the best fic of all time i want to live in there - girl direction - NYC ‘70s au - trans Zayn - the girls are so lovely - 59k

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.

Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.

When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.

6. others i’ve seen might never be mean (but they would never do) by @cherrylouvol6 | aaaaaaaa it’s lesbian When Harry Met Sally !!! - rom com - girl direction - coming out and first times - really great sex - 20k

Louis sighs.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?”

“That I’m naive and neurotic and would be hard pressed to ever find someone who could put up with me?” Harry snaps.

7. some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed | aaaaaa this story took me apart and back together again just like Louis and Harry - urban fantasy au - second chances - exes to friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - 25k

Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

8. we can take the long way home by @eleadore | i usually don’t rec my porn but there’s so much feels in this one - canon-divergent - kink discovery - friends to lovers - this was written in 2015 as a future fic but it felt like it was taking place now so good job - 27k

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

Winteriron (MCU)

9. **Dig No Graves** by @missaphelion | Tony finds out about his parents right after winter soldier au - Tony Stark has a heart - Bucky heals with bots and lots of sugar - slow burn - 142k

"I'm here to kill you, Terminator," Tony said slowly, "does that compute?"

The soldier looked up at him with wide blue eyes and no expression. "Okay."

Tony froze. "Okay," he echoed. "I tell you I came here to kill you and your response is 'okay'?"

10. A Rifling Matter by Penndragon27 | Winter Soldier has such a big crush on Tony’s weapons, he escapes Hydra au - identity porn - pining Bucky - fluff and angst - Winter Soldier is a fanboy and it’s cute - 37k

All the Asset knows is fighting, killing.

He also knows a good weapon when he sees one and Stark Industries... they make some great weapons.

11. *Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates)* by @tisfan & @everyworldneedslove | enemies to friends to lovers to 50 first dates - pining Bucky - Tony gets amnesia - no Steve bashing but he’s a little bit of an ass - mental health issues - 109k

Bucky Barnes is still mostly The Asset, and he's pretty sure Hydra is going to come back for him soon, so in the meantime he's just going to keep an eye on the Avengers for them. But then Clint spotted him hiding in the shadows, so Tony came out and dragged Bucky back to the Tower, threw him in the shower, and fed him cheeseburgers.

Now The Asset is having anomalous feelings. In his pants.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

12. *no reason to run* by @yoursummerfrost | different meeting au - only one bed but camping - cursed Jaskier - soft Geralt!!!! - poly negotiations - 61k

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back."

What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love.

13. *He Fell into a Faerie Ring* by @geraltnoises | Jaskier gets bardnapped after the fight au - non-human Jaskier - soft Geralt - Jaskier encourages people to be kind and becomes a god - emotionally mature Geralt - 57k

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.

14. Barking Up the Wrong Tree by KHansen | 5+1 things - I’m worried about Geralt’s skills - non-human Jaskier - monsterfucker Geralt - crack treated seriously - 11k

Geralt is 100% certain that Jaskier is a vampire.

He's 100% proven wrong.

15. Bardic Idyll by Lisztful | fake relationship - Geralt is soft and oblivious - pining - fluff and angst - Jaskier you can’t show your emotions mainly through song! - 13k

Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.

#monthly fic rec #fic rec #sterek fic rec #larry fic rec #winteriron #geraskier #larrie hijinks #witcher #mcu

[blueprint-han]

☆⌒ hilltop — bang chan | fluff, boyfriend au | 1394 words | slight kissing

“Hey, you mint-head!”

Chan stops in his path halfway through, turning around to squint through the lush green trees and bushes when he spots your ruined and debilitated form trying to catch up with her overly-active boyfriend. He chuckles when you hesitantly place a hand on a tall tree’s bark, crouching down on the moist, wet floor to catch your breath.

“I’m not as fit as you are, did you forget?” You heave out, shifting from one foot to the other because the trekking shoes Chan had given you were one-size-too-small, and now your feet felt like they were enclosed with molten-hot-lava. Yikes, not cool. 

“Did you just call me mint-head?” Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow, sauntering towards you before taking a seat on the random wooden bench that’s littered here and there on the pat to the top of the hill.

“Well,” You take a deep breath, uncapping the water bottle — thank god you’d brought one — before taking a nice gulp of the liquid. It feels cool and refreshing when it runs down your throat. Once you cap the bottle back, you speak again. “You deserve it, for dragging my ass to this —” A clapping sound echoes throughout the space and you separate your hands, pushing off the dead mosquito on your hand. “— wild forest, even though I told you we could’ve just taken the photos on the apartment’s terrace.”

“Oh come on,” Chan laughs heartily, slinging an arm over your shoulder before dabbing his handkerchief over your sweaty forehead. “It’s just a fucking hill, stop being such a drama llama. It’s literally just a straight walk up.”

“But we’ve been walking for hours!”

“Actually, we’ve only been walking for five minutes.”

“Sorry, you’re the one who literally carried me against my will from my comfortable bed and into this weird ass place, and all for dumb —” you swat at another mosquito. “Photos. Yeah, I think I have to right to be mad.”

“Hey, now let’s not get too angry there.” Chan runs his hand through his mint green hair. “The view from the top is magnificent, just give it a chance, babe. You do remember what I promised you once we’ve successfully reached the top, right?”

You scowl and then that gradually morphs into a pout as you shove your water bottle back into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder. “It doesn’t even seem worthy anymore — all this climbing for one kiss?”

“Oh please,” Chan smirks, crossing his arms against his chest. “You’ve always told me I’m a good kisser, so you can’t tell me that you aren’t the slightest bit excited for this.”

“Yeesh, stop being so cocky—” A slap at his chest and you get up, ignoring the fiery feeling in the apples of your cheeks as you walk further up the hill. “You better catch up or no kiss for you!”

“Hey that was my deal!”

Once you and Chan both reach the top of the hill — albeit with a lot of groaning and complaining — the first thing you do is kick off your damn shoes and revel in the feeling of the cold grass under your feet, and finally, finally, some circulation to let your feet breathe! You feel as free as a bird, as calm as a swan in a lake —

“Why are you standing over there like you’re in the Titanic movie?” Chan asks, biting his lip to muffle out his giggles while you scowl at him once again.

“Because someone —” You smile, pointing at your boyfriend who’s trying hilariously hard to not laugh at how silly you look right now. “Decided to bring me here when I was totally—”

“Oh shut it, don’t start again.” Honestly, Chan isn’t even offended over how dramatic you’re being. You’re overly loud, chaotic, and look at the fun sides in life (expect for now, surprisingly) and Chan is calm, patient and more diplomatic in his approach. You two are opposites, but that’s what attracts both of you.

Plus, he finds it absolutely adorable, and all he wants to do is throw his camera away and cradle you into his arms and shower you in praise. Your dorkiness only brings out his affectionate side more — and Chan’s an affectionate person already.

“Ugh, fineeee...” You whine. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Okay, so — stand there.” He points to the railing that surrounds the hill and you nod, moving to take your position. The cold grass and the air feels oddly nice, so you feel energetic. Maybe this photoshoot will go well after all.

The next two hours is spent with you and Chan taking pictures of each other, the scenery, and you also throw in a couple photos of Chan stuffing his cheeks with the sushi you’d picked up on the way — those were private and confidential though, because your boyfriend looked so cute when his cheeks were filled with food, and you were selfish and wanted all that serotonin for yourself.

Honestly Chan doesn’t even care about the photos — neither do you, but you’ve made it clear since the beginning — he just wants to spend quality time with his girlfriend, and college’s been an absolute pain in the ass — he misses going on silly yet nice dates with you.

Even Chan manages to catch a few portrait photos of you when you aren’t looking, and for all intents and purposes he will be keeping it to himself — because your beauty deserves to be admired, and just like you, Chan is selfish to share it.

Seems like you both fit together perfectly.

When the photoshoot is done, you decide to separate from the cameras a bit and gaze at the sun that’s going down bit by but, bestowing it’s existence with a magnificent view. The sky is tinted the slightest orange, mixed with a hint of pink and blue, and the scenery itself is picture-worthy.

“So...” You say, having calmed down from your burst of energy from before. “Today was nice.”

“What —” Chan says with sarcastic intent, gasping and clutching at his heart like he’s in grave shock. Now he’s the one who’s being dramatic. “— Didn’t you say it wasn’t worth my kiss?”

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes playfully, quirking your brow before gazing off into the afternoon-evening sky.

“Pfft, I’ll shut up after we finish the one more picture we have to take.”

“What picture, didn’t we have all of them already?”

“Nope, stand here.”

Chan runs to fix his tripod stand a few feet away from where you’re standing, setting the timer before rushing back to his place.

“This one’s special, so please get rid of the grouchy face.” You frown, but nonetheless smile at his excitement.

“Okay so, close your eyes.” 

A raised eyebrow is thrown in his direction, but you still comply, extremely curious to know what your boyfriend was up to.

“I swear to god, if you pull that thing you did to me last time when you put a bug in my hand I will —” Hey, you were just being proactive! The bug incident had freaked the fuck out of you, so much that you didn’t go near Chan for a whole two days until he’d apologized and bought you McDonalds.

But oh god, what you felt was so, so much better than that prank. 

Soft lips press against your own and efficiently shut you up, leave be for the muffled nose that rolls off your tongue in surprise. His lips move with synchrony, and you barely notice the camera flash behind you when Chan cups your cheeks and you wrap your hands around his waist, delving deeper and deeper and deeper until you ran out of breath. Not that you didn’t feel breathless when Chan got like this, and you loved every bit of it.

When you pull away, you gasp for air, panting as you rest your forehead against Chan’s.

“So,” He says, rubbing his thumb against your cheek and kissing the tip of your nose. “Was it worth it?” He cocks an eyebrow, and you giggly softly, pulling him into a hug.

“You know it always will be.”

And the framed picture of you and Chan kissing under the medium-orange toned sunset looks ever-the-pretty on your room’s wall.

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

#skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz chan fluff #stray kids chan fluff #chan fluff #bang chan fluff #chan imagines #chan scenarios

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Princess Part 11

Harry Potter Marauders Era 

Link to Part 10

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- smut

______

Regulus sat watching Emma’s feeble attempt at seducing him with an amused smile on his face. This had to be one of the most laughable moments that he had in some time. When Emma batted her eyes at him for the fiftieth time, Regulus knew that he had to put a stop to the charade before he started laughing and missed a chance at being an ass.

“Do you have something in your eye?”

Emma’s smile fell as an annoyed expression went over her face. She expected Regulus to take the bait. Why wouldn’t he? Emma was, after all, a pureblood girl from a good family. She hadn’t betrayed him. Why wouldn't he be interested in her? Maybe she should have just taken her top off as she had originally planned or kissed Regulus? Guys seemed to have a hard time saying no to her when her clothes were off or her lips were on theirs. Regulus would probably be no different.

“Are you serious, Regulus?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow with a smirk. He had the perfect response to annoy the slut a little further.

“No, that’s my brother. I figured that you would know who you are trying to very poorly seduce. Just a heads up...Remus Lupin will probably have something to say about you trying to steal his boyfriend.”

It took all that Regulus had to keep his calm cool composure when Emma’s mouth dropped.

“I do not want Sirius! I want you!”

Regulus picked his book back up and went back to the place that he had stopped reading.

“Well, go make me a sandwich or something.”

Emma stomped her foot before crossing the room and taking the book away from Regulus. He gave her an annoyed scowl before crossing his arms over his chest.

“I want you to pay attention to me.”

“People in hell want ice water.”

Regulus calmly replied as Emma became angrier.

“I don’t get it! Why would you not want me? I’m beautiful….perfect….”

Regulus held a hand up.

“I’m going to stop you right there. First off, you aren’t perfect. You’re a selfish snooty bitch who was never told no enough. Second, Evan isn’t even cold in his grave and you are throwing yourself at me knowing that I am engaged to your best friend. I think that you need to go look up the definition of a best friend. You should also know that I am very hard to please and nothing about you does anything for me. Now, the door is over there. Go see yourself out.”

Emma furiously picked her coat up before storming to the door. Regulus didn’t bother looking at her as he gave her a sassy little wave.

“You’ll regret this!”

Emma snapped before slamming the door behind her. Regulus chuckled. Was he supposed to be afraid of her or something? Not a chance...

“Foolish girl. You know nothing of my power.”

(meanwhile)

You sat at your desk looking over some files that Mr. Crouch asked you to catalog. The door opening and closing didn’t pull you away from your work. You were used to people always coming and going so someone coming in was nothing new. It wasn’t until you heard Emma’s voice did you look up.

“Hello, Y/n.”

“Hello, Emma.”

You replied as she sat down in a chair across from your desk. It had been months since you had spoken a word to your “best friend.” You had begun to question just what Emma actually was to you. Out of all of your friends, it was only Melissa that seemed to not fall off the planet when the relationship with Regulus failed. Melissa didn’t care less what was going on with Regulus. She took the time to explain...

“I care about you. I want to see you happy. Clearly, you aren’t happy without him but by the words that he said to you...he may not be good for you. If you decide to patch things up, however, I will still be here for you.”

Emma never took two seconds to ask if you were okay or to check-in. You weren’t even invited to her wedding to your own damned cousin. Emma’s intentions were very clear. She was only your friend to make herself look better.

“So, the rumors are true. You are working for Barty’s father. Aren’t you embarrassed to work for a man that would lock up his own son?”

Leaning back in your chair, you fought back the urge to tell her to go fuck herself.

“The evidence against him was too damning. Just like if your husband was alive there would be enough to lock him up to.”

Emma’s smile turned even icier.

“I guess the same could be said about your fiance. I heard that Regulus charmed you again. It seems that he doesn't really care about his reputation anymore. Dating a blood traitor doesn’t seem like a very wise thing to do. What’s going on with the Black family?”

You swallowed back the burning rage that was beginning to build.

“If you’ve come to insult me it isn’t working. It's funny how you used to love to be in my presence now you are acting like you are better than me. I hate to break it to you, Emma, there is nothing better about you. Lucky for me, I got to see a lot better views on the world than what was shoved down your throat. It's probably best that you leave.”

Emma stood up.

“Regulus will tire of you eventually. He wants the spoiled princess that he fell in love with. This whole Y/n the social justice warrior...it won’t do you any good. He’ll want a girl like me and I think you know that. He and I would make a good couple.”

The taunt shook you to your core. It was the worry that you had in the back of your mind. What if Regulus decided to go back to the old ways? What if he decided that your new-found personal growth was going in the opposite direction of what he was going in? Would you be able to stand back and watch him leave you for someone like Emma?

“In your dreams. Hell would freeze over before Regulus became interested in you.”

You replied as Emma smiled coyly.

“You aren’t good enough for him anymore and I think deep down you know it too.”

Emma didn’t wait for you to reply before walking out without another word.

Emma’s words plagued your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon. Did she really think that you weren't good enough for Regulus? If so, the better question was why did you care? Maybe it was the fact that you had grown up thinking Emma was your best friend? Best friends didn’t do each other that way.

It seemed like all of your best friends were falling apart. Evan was dead. Barty Crouch Jr was in prison. Severus Snape had gone to teach at Hogwarts and wouldn't answer any owls from his friends. Literally, the only people that you spoke to was Regulus and Melissa (when she was in town).

It all isn’t bad. Your friends now are much nicer.

That particular thought made you smile. A truer statement couldn’t have been said. Maybe there was some good that came out of the brief break up with Regulus. You had grown closer to Sirius which led to your now close friendship with Remus, James, and Lily.

You had considered calling Lily several times that afternoon and talking to her about what happened. She would probably have some excellent motherly advice to offer or she would sympathize with you. Lily always knew what to say when you needed help the most. Maybe this is what having “healthy” friends felt like.

Regulus looked up when you stepped into that afternoon. It didn’t take him knowing everything about you to know that something was bugging you.

“What’s wrong, love?”

You sat your bag down with a sigh.

“Enma is a bitch. I can't believe that I ever liked her.”

Regulus frowned a bit as he stood up to follow you into the kitchen.

“So was it tequila day down at Crouch's office?”

You poured a glass of water before turning to face your fiance. Did you tell him how you were feeling? It would go one of two ways. Regulus would get annoyed with you for even thinking that he would want someone like Emma or he would brush it off with a sarcastic comment.

“Emma came to see me today. It was the first time that I have spoken to her in 2 months. She took the time out of her busy schedule of eating bonbons and living off of my cousin’s money to come to tell me what a blood traitor that I am. She also seems to fancy you.”

Regulus rolled his eyes and limped over to you.

“I would rather die a virgin...if I was one. You have my v-card so it isn’t like she would be getting anything.”

“Very funny.”

You replied with a huff.

“I better go ahead and tell you so this doesn’t come back and bite me in the ass later. She came by here earlier. I assumed it was to get the stuff of Evan’s that I had. She tried, very poorly might I add, to seduce me.”

“What?”

You interrupted. Regulus quickly reached out and pulled you to him. His mouth was on yours silencing any chances of you throwing a fit. Putting a hand on the side of your face, Regulus didn’t move away from you. He wanted to preserve whatever kind of closeness that he could get.

“Nothing happened. I made a bunch of sassy snarky comments until she left. She made me want to vomit...my stomach still hurts.”

“What did she do?”

“Y/n...it doesn’t…”

You cut him off.

“Yes, it does! You’re my fiance, not hers.”

You pulled away and walked to the other side of the room. Picking up a dish, you started furiously washing the delicate china until the plate broke in half.

“Damn it.”

You as Regulus came over to join you. He took the two broken pieces of the plate and laid them on the counter. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and snuggled his face into the back of your neck.

“You should stop trying to clean things so we don’t run out of china. You’re right. I am your fiance...all yours. Princess, I don’t be mad. Why would I want Evan’s sloppy seconds? That’s gross.”

“That’s fair.”

You replied.

“I mean it, Y/n. I want nothing to do with her. I think it's best that we distance ourselves from our old friends. We have other things to worry about now and soon Voldemort is going to figure out what I did with the locket. Maybe lying low won’t be such a bad idea.”

You lay your head back against Regulus’ shoulder.

“What do you suggest we do?”

You asked. If the two of you were going to “lay low” you knew this meant taking an extended leave from work. Mr. Crouch would probably understand once you let him know fully what was going on. He was already aware that you were back with Regulus.

“As much as I don’t want to do this, maybe staying with Sirius for some time wouldn't be a horrible idea. It will be difficult. I’ve lived with my brother before and...god he’s annoying but he wants to help.”

“Sirius isn’t that bad anymore. He’s actually kind of funny.”

You replied, hoping to ease the tension that you felt in Regulus’ body. Regulus would never admit it to you but he really didn’t mind the idea of being near his brother. Sirius had saved him after all. If Sirius didn’t care, he never would have made sure that Regulus was put back together.

“Yeah, I suppose that he is. I’ll talk to Sirius about everything later. What about us?”

You turned in Regulus’ arms with a confused expression.

“What about us?”

Regulus gently lifted you onto the counter.

“I don’t want you mad at me.”

You reached out and pulled Regulus to you by his shirt. Running your fingers through his hair, you pulled him into a soft kiss.

“I’m not mad at you. I only wish that I could have seen you sass her.”

Regulus smiled against your mouth.

“I told her to shut up and make me a sandwich.”

You were both laughing over that one. That little comment probably got under Emma’s skin more than anything.

“I’m sure she loved that.”

Regulus nodded.

“She was thrilled. I’m sure she doesn’t want me now. She probably thinks that I just order you around like a servant. What can I do to make your day better, love?”

You immediately smiled.

“I want to be fucked now...if you’re up to it.”

Regulus bit his bottom lips before smiling up at you.

“I was asking for it this morning.”

Sliding off of the counter, you wrapped your hand around Regulus’ and tugged him into the bedroom. Regulus didn’t bother to kick the door closed behind him as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Enjoying the closeness was as nice as having him inside of you. In your time apart, you had grown to treasure the small things in your relationship. It wasn’t all about sex anymore. It was about the simple things before sex...the way that Regulus held you, your face pressed in his neck, hearing the sound of his heart beating as your skin finally touched again.

“I can’t believe that it's been two months since I’ve touched you.”

Regulus commented as he tugged your dress over your head.

“Never again.”

He added. You only nodded. There was a lot more that you could say but you had a feeling that Regulus knew it. You could see it in his eyes.

“This means everything...you and I…”

You finally commented before beginning to unbutton his shirt. Regulus reached up to cup your face in his hands. He didn’t want you to look away from him.

“It does...you’re mine.”

The next kiss was soft and sultry for a moment before turning hungry and desperate.

“Love me like you do.”

You whispered against his lips. Regulus reached out and gently pushed you onto the bed.

“As you wish.”

You quickly wiggled your way out of the remaining bits of clothing that was still on your body. Laying back in the soft sheets, you watched with a pleased smile as Regulus undressed. The scars and bruises from that night in the cave were slowly disappearing from his body leaving Regulus’ body as you had known it.

Regulus moved to get on top of you but stopped when you sat up.

“No, lay down.”

You instructed. Regulus didn’t argue as you carefully placed a leg on either side of his body. You took extra care to not put too much weight on him. Even though Regulus said he was fine, you still wondered if he was just trying to act tough so you wouldn’t fuss over him?

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Hurry...I don’t want to wait. Two months has been long enough. I want to claim what is mine.”

Regulus sat up enough to yank your body down onto his. His mouth was back on yours before reaching between your bodies to slowly push in. Your head fell back with each inch that was pushed inside of you.

“Reggie.”

You sighed his name as his mouth latched onto your neck. He could mark you up for all that you cared.

“I could listen to you say my name for hours.”

Regulus groaned, trying to keep his mind on the slow steady pace that he was trying to keep. He wanted nothing more than to pin you down to the mattress and make rough love but today didn’t seem the time. You needed the soft romantic side of lovemaking (even if the slowness drove him crazy at points.) You were worth every moment of this. Besides, Regulus knew that he could win you back over to the rougher side of things as soon as his own body would permit it.

You closed your eyes, trying to hold onto whatever grip on reality that you had. When you could get the strength to open your eyes, you were relieved to see Regulus’ eyes were closed and an expression of sheer ecstasy was on his face. It was taking all that Regulus had to hold on. The way you gently ground your hips to match his slow, deep, penetrating thrusts was enough to make someone who hadn't been touched in two months want to fall apart.

“Close, Reggie.”

You managed to choke out as he nodded eagerly.

“Me too.”

The cascade of an orgasm was enough to make you want to sob in his arms.

“That’s it. Princess...that’s it.”

Regulus muttered like a prayer as he focused his thrusts at pushing you through each wave of what had to be one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Come, beautiful boy.”

You cooed, focusing your attention on pushing him over the edge. Pressing your lips back down to his, you poured whatever passion that you could give into the kiss. Regulus shuddered against your still convulsing body before finishing inside of you.

Neither of you could move for a few quiet moments. You were still gently kissing Regulus hoping to tease whatever you could out of him.

“I think we still have it.”

Regulus commented when you finally pulled away to snuggled back against his face. You didn’t argue when he pulled you back down against him.

“Like we ever lost it…”

______

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#Regulus Black #Regulus Black x Reader #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Emma Rosier #Barty Crouch Jr #Severus Snape #Barty Crouch Sr #timothee chalamet as regulus black #ben barnes as sirius black #andrew garfield as remus lupin #regulus x reader #reader x regulus #the ancient and noble house of black #regulus arcturus black #sirius orion black #harry potter marauders #harry potter fan fiction #marauders post hogwarts #marauders au #Princess #Princess Chapter 11 #update