#but the cult season was truly something else

[wheresarizona]

Creed

summary: Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Din Djarin, established relationship, age gap (10 years), alternating pov, unprotected p in v, creampie, BREEDING KINK, oral sex (f receiving), first kiss, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic fluff, fluff, removing helmets for the first time, religious guilt, did I mention breeding kink? Din being so in love he wants to break the Creed, good parent Din Djarin)

pairing: Din Djarin/f!Mandalorian reader (from the Tribe with zero physical descriptions)

word count: 6.2k

a/n: It’s called Creed, but Breed also works. Lmaooo @what-muses sent in the prompt for Din hearing reader singing to Grogu, and I am so insanely sorry for this not being super wholesome. I just know in my heart Din would hear the woman he loves singing to their kid, and he’d want more children. 😭😭😭 I legit wrote 95% of this while either sick or in the ER to make myself feel better. Takes place during season 2. Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for betaing this.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to hear what you thought of it!

Masterlist

He knows his own face—the color of his eyes, the curve of his nose, the crease between his eyebrows, the patchy facial hair. He knows the shape of his lips, the dimple in his cheek, and the lines that show his age. He’s the only person who can take in all of these details and know they belong to him, something secret, sacred—the Way of the Mandalore means no other living being can see him without his helmet. It also means you’ve never seen his face, but that’s never been an issue since you also follow the Creed.

Staring at his reflection in the ‘fresher mirror, his naked body clean from the sonic shower, he slowly moves the razor over the skin of his cheek, wondering briefly what you look like under your purple helm.

Pausing, his eyebrows furrow, realizing the thought has never once crossed his mind—it wasn’t something he ever would have wondered before because it’s never been important. The two of you had your beliefs and followed them, not caring about what was beneath the beskar, all that mattered was you loved each other.

You’ve been together since he’d saved the kid from the Client, you leaving Nevarro with him, your relationship shifting as time went on—the two of you keeping the child safe and falling in love in the process.

Then on your quest to reunite the small boy with his kind, you’d met the other Mandalorians, discovering there were many out across the galaxy who didn’t follow the Creed or the ways of old. They believed you could be a Mandalorian and remove your helmet and that your tribe was a cult.

Continuing shaving, he rinses the razor blade under water before sliding it along his other cheek. A lot of people preferred using depil cream to remove their facial hair, but Din liked the precision of the razor over the viscous liquid.

It was overwhelming hearing all that Bo-Katan had said and having this new knowledge, making him wonder what it truly meant to be a Mandalorian.

Could he really put the helmet back on once he took it off in front of another?

With the location of a Jedi and your time with your foundling running out, it was important he was present to witness your union, both knowing you were going to spend the rest of your days together by each other’s sides. Din and you exchanged your vows, committing to one another for life in the cockpit of the Razor Crest with your child in attendance and the bright streaking stars of hyperspace flying by.

His face is mostly shaved, leaving hair on his chin and above his lips, now using a small pair of scissors to trim his mustache.

It doesn’t matter to him that no one else gets to see how he looks. He’s still particular in how he likes his facial hair, unable to stand too much of it under his helmet, keeping the hair on his head cropped short for comfort.

It makes him wonder if you have preferences as he shapes his mustache.

How long is your hair? What color is it? What color are your eyes? What does your smile look like? What will your children look like?

His hand stops, his eyes widening.

Gulping hard, that’s another thought that’s never crossed his mind. He knows you’re going to have children together. It’s something you’ve discussed, but not once has he thought of their looks. Things like that didn’t matter to Mandalorians, who spend their lives covered head to toe in armor. He wonders if he’d be able to pick out the pieces of you in them to get a glimpse of what the woman he loves looks like—he wants to know.

Why is he stuck on this?

It’s not the Way.

Din sighs, finishing what he’s doing.

The scissors get put back into his shaving kit, cleaning the sink of his hair clippings, happy you got a room at the inn here on Nevarro while the Crest is being repaired. The two of you are planning to help Greef and Cara with a small matter in the morning in exchange for the ship's repairs.

Once he’s done, the stuff shoved into his bag, Din pulls out clean clothes to change into for the night, settling for some cloth pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Putting his helmet on, he gathers his bag and flight suit, the rest of his armor out in the room you’re in with the kid, stacked neatly beside your own.

Greef was the one who provided the accommodations, Din assuming it’d be a basic room—a bed, a refresher, the necessities. That wasn’t good enough for the magistrate, though. Instead, he’d set you up in a one-bedroom suite with a sitting room and a tiny kitchen.

Making his way out of the ‘fresher and bedroom, he stops in his tracks at what he hears.

You’re sitting at the small dining table, the kid in the seat beside you happily accepting the food he’s passed, which was a common occurrence, it’s the song you’re singing that has Din so caught off guard.

He’s heard you hum a lot—tunes were always getting stuck in your head that you picked up in cantinas or buskers on the street. You’ve sung before, too, but you were trying to make him and the kid laugh with your boisterous renditions of Mandalorian drinking songs.

This is different.

It’s not loud—it’s soft, sweet, the Mando’a flowing from your lips like a soft caress, hearing your love for the child with every syllable sung. This is a song mothers sang to their children, having heard such a thing back at the covert, about Mandalore the Great taming his mythical mythosaur and the strength all Mandalorians had.

There’s a helmet on your head, and he can’t help imagining what your face looks like under the t-visor. He can hear your love, would he be able to see it, too? There’s a smile in your voice, and it makes his chest squeeze at how he wishes he could look upon it.

Din knows you, and you know him.

He knows your likes and dislikes, your deepest, darkest secrets—everything about you, Din has learned and loves.

And now he wants more of you to love—he wants all of you, wants to see all of you.

You’re a wonderful mother, the kid so happy with you, taking him in like he’s your own flesh and blood, and something inside Din is screaming that you need more children—he needs to give you that, more little ones to love, and sing to, as many as you want, the thought of you pregnant with his child making his skin heat.

Stars, you’d be even more beautiful round with his baby.

He swallows hard, his pants feeling a little tight.

He knows everything about you, he loves everything about you, and guilt has settled like a stone in his stomach that he suddenly can’t get his mind off what’s under the beskar on your head.

The singing stops when you notice him, your t-visor trained on his prone form, standing just inside the room.

“Hey!” you say, handing the child more food. “It’s dinner time—ordered food while you were in the ‘fresher. Got you something I know you’ll like.”

It takes him from his reverie, finally moving again to set his bag near the table by the couch, the shining pieces of both of your armor on top of it. He tosses his flight suit onto the sofa over his cape, walking over to where you and the kid are.

He’s behind your chair, rubbing his hands over your arms as he replies, “Thank you, my love.” Leaning down to gently knock his helmet against yours in the semblance of a kiss before moving around the table to take a seat.

What would your lips feel like on his?

He has to shake the question from his brain, clearing his throat, and opening the food container in front of him.

It makes him smile when he sees you did get him something he’d like—skewers of meat and vegetables.

Picking one up, he uses the fork beside him to push off the chunks into the container, discarding the skewer and using his free hand to lift his helmet up just enough to take a bite. He groans happily at the spices enveloping his tongue, chewing and swallowing.

“Good?” you ask, beginning to eat your own dinner the same way he was.

In the company of other Mandalorians, it was generally protocol to go off and eat alone, but you’d been traveling in the tight confines of the Crest for so long that barely lifting the helmet was an acceptable compromise, avoiding looking at each other as you did it.

“Really good,” he replies, shoving more into his mouth.

The kid coos contently, full from his meal, while you both enjoy your own, sharing snippets of conversation between bites.

By the time you’re both finished, the little one is falling asleep in his chair, and helmets are once again covering your faces.

“I’ll put him to bed,” you softly say, starting to get up from your chair.

“The couch,” he says a little too quickly.

“The couch?” Your tone is teasing. “Got plans since we have a bed this evening, my dear husband?”

“Maybe I do.”

“In that case, the couch it is,” you reply, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with a pillow and blanket that you put onto the sofa, coming back over to the table to take the child.

Din busies himself cleaning up the trash and finds himself stuck in place when he’s done as he watches you sitting next to the kid, stroking his big ears while softly singing an old lullaby.

That need comes crashing into him again, the one telling him to give you a baby. It’s loud, something primal that he feels deep down that won’t be satisfied until he’s buried himself inside your cunt and pumps you full of his seed.

Arousal is burning in his gut, his cock stirring, eyes locked on your downturned helm and the curve of your breasts under your shirt.

He wants to strip you bare and feel your skin, batting away the intrusive thought of getting your helmet off—his, too, in order to lick and suck what he wants to touch.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realize you’ve gotten up until you’re whispering by the bedroom door, “You coming?”

His bare feet move quickly, following you into the other room. Once the door is shut and the lock engaged, he’s crowding into you, needing to get his hands on your body, rubbing them over your soft belly and up to cup your breasts.

“You’re in a mood,” you giggle, Din’s hands roaming all over your body, your front, back, down to grab your ass.

“Need you,” he grunts.

Sliding your hands down his chest, you move lower to palm his half-hard dick in his pants, feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Yeah, you do.”

His eagerness is turning you on, wishing you could kiss him.

That makes you frown.

Over a year together and never once have you thought of kissing Din or seeing him without his helmet, for that matter, and yet, for days now, these things have been popping up in your brain. Kept you wondering what he looks like, or the face he was making in a moment or how soft his lips were, or the color of his eyes—plagued by thoughts that went against how you were raised and what you believed, clear violations of the Creed you swore to live your life by.

It’s never been an issue, always a fact that the helmet stayed on in front of another, and then you met Bo-Katan, and now you were at constant war with your own mind, feeling like it was an enemy you couldn’t vanquish in battle.

There are other Mandalorians out there, who even wish to reclaim Mandalore, and they believe you can remove your helm in the presence of another—Bo-Katan’s own armor had been passed down for three generations.

What if it was okay to remove it?

Would Din want to?

Would he still love you?

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking you from your thoughts.

His hands are now caressing the sides of your helmet, a little intrusive thought in the back of your mind wishing he’d take it off.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“Stuff…”

His head tilts in confusion.

“Tell me.”

That’s the thing about Din, he’s your best friend, your husband, you can tell him anything, which is why you tell him the truth.

“Bo-Katan and the others, they are Mandalorians and remove their helmets.”

“Yes, they do not follow the Creed.”

“Do you believe they are Mandalorians?”

“Do you?”

“Bo-Katan was born on Mandalore. She fought in the Great Purge. I do believe they are Mandalorians.”

“As do I.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He nodded.

“Din, we grew up believing in the Way of the Mandalore—it’s all we’ve known. We went through the same ceremony, we swore to walk the Way and never remove our helmets, but I—” Your hands go up to cradle where his cheeks would be “—can’t stop thinking about what you look like, and I feel ashamed because I know it’s wrong.”

“It’s not wrong.” He sounds hopeful. “I feel the same and want to see your face, too.”

That has you taken aback.

“You do…?”

“I do.” He nods.

“But will you still love me…?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

“Of course. I love you for you and not for what’s underneath the beskar.”

“That’s a lie. You’re obsessed with my body.”

He chuckles, “I am because I love you and would continue loving you even if it changed…” he trails off like he’s thinking about something “I. Love. You.” he adds, saying each word clearly.

“Promise?”

Pressing a hand over his heart, he answers, “On my life.”

“Okay, I believe you.”

“Will you still love me…?” The question comes out slowly.

“We literally just had a conversation over how you love me for me, and you have to know I feel the same way.”

“Just making sure.” You can hear his smile.

“So, would you like to break the Creed with me…?”

Your heart is hammering in your chest.

“More than you know.”

Relief washes over you, combined with giddiness.

“Thank the Stars!” you exclaim happily.

“At the same time?” He’s as eager as you are, his hands moving back to hold your helmet again.

“Yes.”

Gripping his, you both count down together, “Three, two, one…” Carefully, you lift his beskar, your own coming off, blinking at the light in the room, and your eyes zeroing in on the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, your mouth falling open in shock.

A person’s looks have never meant much to you, thinking some were pleasing to the eye, you finding someone’s prowess in battle more attractive along with their personality.

Din is a formidable opponent, always succeeding in his endeavors because he is highly intelligent, strong, and knows how to fight and use a weapon.

Even though many fear your husband, he’s actually a very sweet man, caring, loving, and will protect you and your foundling with his life.

And now you know he is also unbelievably attractive.

Beautiful chocolate eyes are rounded as they stare at you, the look on his face a twin of your own, loving his nose, and the messy brown hair on top of his head, seeing that he recently shaved with his facial hair looking neat, taking in every detail and line of the man you love.

“Beautiful,” he whispers in awe, and it has tears brimming in your eyes, bending down to set his helmet on the ground, him doing the same with yours, your hands moving to touch his face when you both straighten.

He’s so gentle when his broad palms caress your cheeks, almost like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

Smiling, you reply, “You’re very handsome yourself.” You reach up to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows. “Your eyes are stunning. I hope our child gets them.”

His lips tip up, and Stars, they’re so plush, you can’t help yourself when you lean in to press your own against his, him making a surprised sound.

Your heart picks up in speed, having wondered what it would be like to kiss him, and at first, it’s soft; the warmth spreading under your skin, meaning to only give him a peck, but then he’s pulling you closer, kissing you a little harder. It’s lingering, his lips moving against yours in tiny movements that have fire burning brightly in your veins, following his lead to mimic what he was doing again and again and again.

It’s not like either of you has any experience with this type of thing, so you’re figuring it out as you go, doing what feels good, getting braver and more comfortable. Your fingers slide into the thick strands of his hair, moaning when his tongue slides over your bottom lip, instinctively opening for him. This was somehow better, more intimate, tasting each other, exploring the other’s mouths until the need to breathe became too much, and you’re separating with smiles on your faces, Din’s lips red and shiny from spit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and it makes you feel all gooey.

“You’re very handsome.”

You stroke your fingers over his cheeks, his hands on your jaw, rubbing a thumb over your wet bottom lip.

It’s like you both can’t stop yourselves from staring, eyes taking in every little detail of the other's face, saving them to memory.

The need rises, and you’re kissing once more, it’s messy before you’re both moving to get your clothes off as quickly as possible—once stripped, Din’s mouth is on yours as he walks you back toward the bed, falling with you on top of it.

His hips are slotted between your thighs, his lips detaching from yours to kiss along your jaw, over your cheeks, up on your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

It makes you smile, him kissing all over your face, then to your ear, shoving his nose in your hair, and inhaling.

“Fuck, you smell amazing,” he says.

That makes you laugh.

“Thanks, but we use the same stuff—we smell the same.”

“No.” He nips at your ear, sucking it into his mouth, gasping at the jolts of pleasure shooting to your center. “You smell better.”

You press your fingers into his hair.

“Stars,” you moan, his lips trailing down your neck and sucking hard on your pulse point. “It feels so good, Din.”

His mouth is so warm, leaving your skin wet in the wake of his kisses, and he can’t seem to get enough, lips streaking across every bit of you as he travels down your body. His mouth engulfs your stiff nipple, making your back arch, gasping his name.

Arousal is hot in your belly, the feeling incredible as he laves at one hard bud, then the other, your head feeling dizzy while soft sounds spill from your lips.

He comes off your nipple with a pop, continuing his journey lower, kissing over your belly until he’s half off the bed, his big hands spreading your thighs.

There’s a look of hunger on his face as he stares at the apex of your thighs, his fingers moving to spread open the lips of your sex, seeing the pink of his tongue peek out to swipe across his bottom lip like he wants to taste you. The look has excitement thrumming in your veins, wanting nothing more than to know what it feels like to have his mouth on you.

“Taste it,” you purr, and his eyes meet yours, his so dark barely any of the beautiful brown remains. “I know you’ve licked me from your fingers.” You’ve seen him on more than one occasion lift his helmet just enough to suck your arousal from digits after they’d been inside you. “Taste it—I want your tongue.” You bit your lip between your teeth.

“Fuck,” he rasps, wasting no time dipping his head forward, licking a stripe through your slit, the flat of his tongue going from your entrance to your clit. He’s groaning into your sensitive flesh as you moan at how good it feels, him laving at every bit of slick he can find, your back arching when he pushes the wet muscle inside you.

“You taste so good.” His words are muffled in your cunt, his mouth moving up, making your toes curl when he sucks on your bundle of nerves.

Even though this isn’t an act either of you has ever done before, Din is a quick learner, knowing intimately what makes you tick—once he has his fill of your taste, he slides two thick fingers inside you, crooking them into that spot he always zeros in on, your vision going white for a second at the shock of pleasure.

“Din,” you moan, threading your fingers into his brown waves for something to hold onto.

The muscles in your belly are beginning to tighten, the heat in the base of your spine growing.

His big brown eyes lock on yours from between your legs, seeing your arousal glistening in his mustache and on his plush lips.

“Wanna taste your come,” he husks, his fingers continuing to work. “Can you come for me? Please?”

This might be his first time, but that big brain of his has quickly worked out how to get what he wants, keeping his gaze on yours while pulling your perky little clit into his mouth, sucking on it while his fingers slide along something divine, rocketing you toward your release.

Your hands tighten in his hair at the pleasurable fire building in your core, feeling it getting hotter and hotter as he works you over, having to bite your fingers to muffle your noises when euphoria explodes inside you, quieting your whine of his name.

“That’s it, beautiful,” he says into your pussy. “My good girl—such a good girl.”

His fingers leave you, replaced with his tongue, hearing and feeling him loudly groan as he indulges in your come, drinking it down from the source.

Your chest is heaving, breathing hard as you come down, your husband having the best time with his mouth on your cunt if the noises are anything to go by.

He got to explore your body, and it’s your turn, salivating at the thought.

Tugging on his hair, you say, “Din?”

His head comes up, looking a little lost with glazed-over eyes, the bottom half of his face shining in the light of the room.

All he can do is grunt in response.

“Get up on the bed and lay down on your back, please.”

His face pinches in confusion.

“What?” he whispers.

You smile. He seems almost drunk, a state you’ve never seen him in since he doesn’t like anything inhibiting his mind or body.

“Get up here, my love—” You pat the bed beside you. “—and lay down on your back. It’s my turn.”

It registers what you say, and he nods, doing as he’s told and crawling up onto the mattress and flopping down next to you with his head resting back on a pillow. Rolling over, you throw your leg over his waist, moving to straddle his hips, your wet center pressing his hard cock into his stomach. You rub your hands up his soft belly and over his chest, seeing the faded scars on his golden skin.

“You’re beautiful,” you say.

His cheeks pink at the comment.

“Thank… you…” he replies, his hands grabbing your waist, smoothing his thumbs over your skin. “You’re more beautiful than the Diathim.”

Your eyebrow raises. “You’re saying I’m prettier than an angel?”

“Songs should be sung of your beauty—there’s nothing that compares in the entire galaxy.” He says it with such conviction your breath hitches, taken aback by the look on his face telling you he means it.

“We should get married,” you blurt out.

“What…?”

“I want to marry you again and see your face when we say our vows.”

You’re fascinated by how you can see him visibly soften, his mouth turning up in a grin that reveals an adorable dimple, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.

“Will you marry me again?” he asks.

You’re matching his look, nodding as you say, “Yes!” Unable to keep yourself from leaning down to press your mouth to his, moaning when you taste yourself in the passionate kiss. His arms wrap around your back, hugging you close to him, losing yourselves for a minute in your happiness.

You’re panting when you break apart.

You’d wanted to take your time getting your mouth all over his body, but there’s a sudden need to have him inside of you—sitting up on your knees, you snake your hand between your bodies to take his cock in hand, pressing it to your aching entrance.

You moan in unison as you lower yourself on him, watching his face as his mouth falls open, his hands grabbing onto your hips, the thick girth of him stretching you open and filling you inch by glorious inch until your thighs meet, feeling so unbelievably full.

“Stars, you feel so good,” you breathe.

“Not as good as you feel.” His words come out strained, watching his throat work as he swallows hard.

You do an experimental roll of your hips, making his fingers tighten in your skin.

His eyes are on yours. “I want to see you come while I’m inside you,” he husks. “Can you do that? Can you use me to make yourself feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer, starting to move up and down, your hands on his chest for leverage.

You love having him inside you—the way he fits so perfectly, rubbing against all the right spots, joining you together.

His hands are on your body while you ride him, rubbing along your ribs and over your stomach, moving up to palm the weight of your breasts, tweaking your nipples, sending jolts straight to your pussy.

“Ride my cock, pretty girl,” Din says in a low rasp. “I love watching you—so beautiful. Use me.”

Adjusting your hips has him sliding into that sacred place that makes your head spin, rising and falling at a pace that’s slowly building you up and up.

Arousal is dripping out of you and down his shaft, allowing you to move with ease, Din’s eyes locked on your face, groans spilling from his throat, looking wrecked at you bouncing on him.

His cock is hot and hard inside you, lifting your hips and slamming your ass down, working yourself closer to your end.

It’s exhilarating to be able to see how good he feels and how much he’s enjoying himself. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes lust-blown, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“I know you’re almost there.” His words come out rough. “You gonna come for me? Gonna be my good girl? I know you can do it. Wanna watch you—wanna see you come, my love.”

“So close,” you pant.

You’re rising and falling, moans slipping from your lips, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter until it’s snapping, and you’re coming with a gasp of his name. Your eyes close as pleasure expands from your center, spreading through your body.

“So beautiful,” Din marvels in a groan. “Such a good girl. I love you—I love watching you.”

“I love you, too,” you breathe, your orgasm beginning to ebb.

A surprised sound comes from you when suddenly you’re jostled, Din groaning as he sits up, keeping you on him as he gets situated with you in his lap, spreading his legs on the bed for balance.

You’re now face to face, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his lips find yours, kissing you tenderly, his other arm wrapped around your back to hug you to him. You thread your fingers in his hair, melting into him, accepting his tongue when he deepens the kiss.

You’ve found you love kissing. There was something about it that was so intimate—sharing breaths, being so close, and tasting him.

His hair is so soft and thick, scratching your nails gently along his scalp and feeling him shiver beneath you.

His hands go to your ass, gripping it tight while he starts moving you in his lap, his lips still on yours.

“Want you close,” he murmurs into your mouth. “Need you close.”

You bounce up and down on his throbbing cock, your knees on either side of his hips helping you rise and fall, fucking yourself on him as you keep kissing.

His words are muffled against your lips, “You’re so beautiful, strong, fierce, loving, and good with the kid.” He moves you faster, using his strength to lift you, grunting in exertion. “I watched you tonight with him—I want more little ones.”

The thought makes you clench around him.

“Din,” you moan, feeling him smile.

“I want to raise more warriors with you,” he continues. “I want to father your children. I want to fuck a baby into you,” he groans, his cock twitching. You can tell he’s getting close as you breathe hard, your thighs burning deliciously. “I want to fill you up, fuck you full of me over and over until it takes.” His words have arousal curling in your gut and the familiar heat building at the base of your spine, bouncing up and down in his lap. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to have as many as you’ll allow. I want to fill the ship, then a house with our kids. I want to see you mother more of my children and sing them the songs of old. I want you, all of you.”

It all sounds so good, wanting the same, gasping, “Yes.”

“Can I?” he asks in a wrecked tone. “Can I fuck a baby into you? Can I get you pregnant? Please. Please, can I father your child?”

“Stars, yes,” you moan. “Please. I want one. Fill me up—keep me full.”

He groans loudly, kissing you hard, making you gasp in surprise when he tackles you onto your back on the mattress, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, holding himself up on his forearms beside your head.

He starts moving fast, fucking into you with abandon to chase his high. The wet slap of skin on skin is sounding in the room, along with his grunts muffled by your mouth, filling you over and over, his thick cock pushing in so deep he’s kissing your womb.

You grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to hang onto, digging your nails into his golden skin. The kisses are sloppy, the tension rising in your belly. His pace gets uneven until he pushes in one last time, going as deep as he can, coming with a ragged groan. You can feel him jerk inside you and the wet pulse as warmth fills your depths. He rocks his hips, moving a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, already so worked up that it doesn’t take much to have you cresting softly with a moan of his name. Your body tenses up, Din grunting as your cunt chokes his dick, working his spend even deeper inside you.

“That’s it,” he groans. “So good to me, my good girl.”

You’re both panting, and he moves his head to the crook of your neck, collapsing on top of you.

It makes you smile when you press your fingers into his sweat-damp hair; how soothing it is to just run your fingers through the brown waves and lightly scratch at his scalp, Din practically purring.

“That’s so nice.” He slurs.

“I like It, too.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s comfortable as you both lie there, not caring about your sweaty bodies or his weight on you, just basking in the afterglow together.

It feels like you’re so close, neither of you would know where one ends and the other begins—so tangled up in each other it feels as though you’re one—one body, one heart, one soul.

Minutes pass in silence, Din groaning as he moves to get up, kneeling between your spread legs. His eyes are locked on where you’re connected, hissing when he pulls himself out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers catch some of his come that’s dripped out of you, moaning when he pushes it back inside.

“Don’t want to waste a drop,” he says. “Can you keep it inside, my love?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

He smiles.

“Thank you.”

His hand leaves you watching in interest as he pushes the digits between his lips, sucking them clean with a groan. They leave his mouth with a pop, his gaze on yours.

“I’ll never tire of how good you taste.” He says.

“I feel like you’re going to be insatiable.” You tease.

He smiles, and you love it so much that you wish to see it every day for the rest of your life.

“I’m already insatiable.”

“Yes, you are.” You reply with the same look on your face.

Quickly he’s off the bed and coming back with a warm wet cloth, gently wiping you down and cleaning himself up, it getting tossed to the floor when he’s done.

He pulls you to lay correctly on the bed in his arms with your heads cushioned by pillows, facing him.

The lights are still on, and you just stare into each other's eyes, losing yourself in his dark pools, him smiling softly under his mustache.

“I’m so happy to know your face,” he whispers, his big hand sliding along your cheek. “I love you.”

“I’m happy to know your face, too,” you say just as softly. “The face of the man I love, who will father my children.”

He smiles brightly, his eyes crinkling adorably at the edges, leaning in to kiss you.

There’s light banging heard at the door that can only be made by tiny fists, Din and you separating immediately with wide eyes.

“Were we too loud?” You whisper.

Din grimaces, answering, “Maybe?”

You’re both moving immediately, jumping out of bed and tugging on your clothes, the air in the room tinged with sex. At least the kid chose to wake up after you’d finished. It was always incredibly awkward when he interrupted during.

The two of you look disheveled, Din’s hair a mess on top of his head, and his cheeks tinted pink.

“Go wash your hands and face,” you tell him. “I’ll get him.” Neither of you bothered putting on your helmets, your husband heading for the en suite, while you made it to the door, disengaging the lock and opening it.

You’re smiling as you look down at the child, him staring up at you with a weird look on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, and his eyes get big, him babbling something pointing at your head. It makes you laugh. “It’s okay,” you reassure, leaning down to pick him up. He’s staring at you, his big eyes somehow bigger. “This is what I look like under the helmet.” His little clawed hand reaches out, pressing it to your cheek as he coos, and it warms your heart.

“Hey, you little womp rat,” Din’s warm voice says as he enters the room, you turning so the kid can see him. The child is babbling up a storm, holding his arms out, and Din chuckles, taking him as soon as he’s within reach. “Did we wake you up?” he asks. “We were just, uh, sparring, yeah, we were sparring, there’s nothing you need to worry about.” The kid is looking at him in wonder, reaching to touch Din’s cheek, the man smiling. “Yeah, I’m not wearing my helmet.” The child looks at you and back at Din, chattering up a storm.

“I think he’s confused.” You tell your husband.

“Yeah, I think he is.” His attention goes back to the kid in his arms, rubbing his back, speaking in a soft tone, “Hey, it’s okay, buddy.” The child goes silent as he listens. “There, uh, were those other Mandalorians who took off their helmets, and we decided to do the same. Everything’s okay. It’s still us.” He’s cooing again, patting Din’s cheek, making his dad chuckle. “It’s my face.” The kid yawns. “You ready to go back to bed?”

You’re already moving toward the mattress, taking off the top blanket, tossing it onto the floor, and pulling back the sheets.

Din walks over and gets in on the other side while still holding the child.

The boy ends up on Din’s chest, his tiny hand reaching up to rub the man’s earlobe while softly babbling—you crawl in next to your husband, resting your head on his shoulder, the lights turned off.

You’re beyond happy to know what the man you love looks like, and you can’t wait to add to your little family, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Your period is almost a month late, and you have a feeling it has nothing to do with stress.

Din was going to be ecstatic.

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know! 

Tagging: @theorganasolo @tiredbuthappy @mandowhatnow @myloveistoolittle @perksofbeingamultifandomm @eddiemunscns @deliriousfangirl61 @fandomandotherthings @myswficlist @aaetherr69 @swimmjacket @ins0mniac-whack @rintheemolion @notsosecretspy @ghostyoongs @freightcarcap @untitledarea @whitemanshoe19 @tmiranda94 @fleetsonfire @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @star017 @artsymaddie @hansolosleftbuttcheek @deadhumourist @pretty-brown-eyess @hotchlover @eternallyvenus @allfoolsinluv @eppy816 @katareyoudrilling @babykangaemoji @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @grimeysociety @bruxasolta @peachyaeger @din-jarhead @lovesbiggerthanpride

#pedro pascal #Din djarin #Din djarin/reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin fanfiction #wheresarizona writes

[moonshynecybin]

if you have the time or inclination, can i ask what the deal with motogp/those boys is about? i don’t mean that in a mean way btw, im just curious and i love drama

i will try to be brief (1/4358)

SO! valentino rossi (born 16 February 1979, aquarius. italian.) is one of the most iconic people in motorsport, CERTAINLY in motogp. he's a 9 time world champion, your favorite driver's favorite driver, and is generally credited with revolutionizing the popularity of the sport by: a. being insanely good at motorcycle racing, and b. in general having a lot of fun about it. lethally charming and charismatic. all time active listening face. just a fun and funny dude that everyone pretty much likes and MANY younger riders idolize. VERY good at handling the media and his legions of cult-like fans. sometimes treated more like a god than a person. i was in the store yesterday and saw one of his themed monster energy drinks despite him retiring two years ago. his fun retirement activity is racing BMWs and running his own motogp team/training facility/cult for young italian racers. (this is where cele and bezz and basically every italian rider not named enea bastianini come from!)

so in 2011ish valentino had won 9 titles, and he decided to leave his current manufacturer and move to italian manufacturer ducati where he generally had a stone-cold terrible time. EXTENDED flop era for a couple years. any time ive watched content that covers this period everyone is so sad. so sad. anyways he GOES BACK to his old manufacturer in 2013 and is much more competitive. kind of just happy to be winning sometimes and be on the podium. 2013 is also where marc comes in. what could go wrong.

marc marquez! (born 17 february 1993, almost exactly 14 years after vale which i'm sure means nothing. also an aquarius. spanish.) childhood sports idols include: dani pedrosa, VALENTINO ROSSI.

marc carved his way up through the feeder championships until casey stoner unexpectedly retired at the end of the 2012 season leaving a seat empty on a VERY good bike for his rookie season. rocked up and was immediately VERY good at winning and very good at being a crazyinsane person on track that made people mad at him lol. hilarious habit of pissing people off via on-track crimes that i really enjoy. motogp riders are already crazy (they do death sport) but marc is famous for taking risks no one else will. basically if he's not winning, he's crashed out or he's maybe crashed YOU out. he wins the championship as a rookie (insane) and the next year's championship as well. heir apparent to the throne. sweet and goofy but is now known as one of the more reserved riders with the press. probably because of all this drama tbh. undisputed GOAT of acting like a slut on camera

throughout 2013-2014, marc and valentino had a good relationship! marc very clearly idolizes him and is like. bowled over completely with delight every time valentino looks his way. vale likes him! theyre buds! truly an endless well of pictures of vale explaining something with his hands and marc babygirling at him. highly recommend checking out @pgaslys every rosquez podium tag for contextual brain damage. insane times.

(IT SHOULD BE NOTED: before the 2015 season marc visits valentino at his practice track in italy, where they compete to break the track record and almost kill each other bc they are so pathologically competitive. APPARENTLY, marc showed up with some official mechanics and valentino was a little pissed off because it was supposed to be a like. fun thing. and to marc winning is the most fun! if you dont come to win why come at all! anyways marc breaks the track record and credits that to cooling their relationship a bit. good post about it here.) here they are that day:

so what could go wrong, right? WELL. valentino has a chance to win his tenth title in 2015. marc is on a flop bike and crashed a bunch so he's not in the championship conversation but vale is leading the standings from the jump, with his main opponent being jorge lorenzo. i think he really wanted that tenth, and dedicated himself to the season in a way he hadnt really ever before (he was a very effortless competitor when he was young. gym-adverse. king).

marc and him start to get into some scraps along the way, notably in argentina (where they made contact and marc crashed out), assen (where they made contact AGAIN and vale won the race), and phillip island (marc won. GREAT race available here for free). phillip island sees vale finishing P4 and jorge lorenzo finishing ahead of him in P3, reducing his championship lead by quite a bit. no real indication of any tension during these races, and they are asked about it!

this is where valentino's delulu era begins! basically, ahead of the next race (🔥🔥SEPANG 2015🔥🔥) in the pre-race press conference, he goes after marc, saying he was deliberately sabotaging valentino in phillip island because marc wanted jorge to win. in valentino's mind. marc wants jorge to win because a. they are both spanish (??) and b. it would mean marc has to win less titles to equal valentino's total. record scratch. freeze frame.

everyone (including marc!) thinks valentino is joking at first bc that is bananascrazyinsane. he was not joking. (it should be noted valentino STILL thinks this lol.) anyways marc is completely blindsided. he thought they were good! yeah they've been chippy on track but that's racing!! truly like. 22 years old and your friend (AND CHILDHOOD IDOL.) is calling you a snake in front of your face with NO prior warning to the entire motogp establishment writ large including your coworkers and REPORTERS. valentino wont even look at him the entire time. the press conference is available here on vimeo. excruciating gifsets of marc's very stiff bewildered PR smile found here.

anyways so. the race. marc is uh. pissed off. he's stuck to valentino like GLUE the entire time and they trade places a bunch of times. now marc is kind of famous for being a little asshole on track anyways, but its not like he's gonna get out of valentino's way and just let him pass after what he said in that press conference so. hand in unlovable hand <3. truly very fun to watch imo even with the sword of damocles hanging over them. marc is fucking on one the entire race and basically refuses to give valentino an inch until vale gets so fed up with his antics that um. well. it certainly looks like he kicked him. vale says he didnt, and that his leg accidently made contact with marc's bike. marcs says. he fucking kicked me. judge for yourself here!

so valentino gets hauled in front of race direction and penalized for the next race (the deciding race for the championship). he has to start from the back of the grid and it kills his chance at a tenth title stone dead. vale places the blame squarely on marc's shoulders and his legions of fans decide marc is public enemy number 1. him and jorge have to get security at the next race because of death threats, someone tries to break into marc's childhood home back in spain, marc's mom throws away all of marc's valentino merchandise from when he was a kid. vale says nothing.

but the thing about marc. is that he loves very hard and chooses his people pretty carefully. didnt really move out of his tiny hometown until he turned 30 and also made his baby brother move in with him kind of guy. so all this is not really enough for him to let go of vale entirely! 2016 is where the pain lives! bc marc is still reaching out and vale himself stays pretty cold for a couple years. they seem to faintly reconcile for a bit but its not anywhere like it was before sepang.

the real nail in the coffin is argentina 2018. another insane race where marc has to start from the back and goes on a rampage through the field and crashes out like three people. i cant remember. this race is also available on youtube for free its very entertaining. every five minutes marc does something insane. vale is one of the people marc crashes out and afterwardshe goes on a big rant about how marc is destroying the sport and is actively dangerous. marc goes to valentino's garage immediately after the race to apologize and vale doesnt even look at him. he gets turned away at the door after vale's best friend/assistant/henchman yells in his face1!!! and thats kind off all she wrote in terms of reconciliation

anyways that's where we are! they are both very much not over it. vale goes on podcasts and is like. in 30 years i will still be mad, im literally never going to get over it it was such a big and unfair thing and i think about it all the time like it was yesterday. and marc (lying) says as time goes by i dont even think about it :) and i care about valentino less and less :))) but yes he hurt me deeply lol. CANNOT stress enough how much this entire thing is now inextricably liked to both of their legacies. the two arguable GOATs of a sport had an epic fleetwood mac-style beatles breakup divorce and everyone wants to talk about it allllll day long including me :)

additional context! really recommend checking out marc's little docuseries he put out this year about his recent struggles with injury. he is so not right in the head and it goes over the valentino drama in ep3. theres also hitting the apex (2015) which goes over the 2013 season (marc's rookie season) and is a really good introduction to all the major players at the time. its like less than 2 hrs long so its not too much of a commitment

also recommend following scholars @babynflames, @its-always-silly-season, @baking-soda, and @f1vegas as well as many others im forgetting rn bc its 2am!

#truly. i am new here. so grain of salt etc #motogp #callie speaks #asks #long post #rosquez

[darklordofthesimp]

Compunctious (Din Djarin x Reader)

Everyone says things they don't mean when they're angry, but can the things Din said truly be forgiven? 

Requested by Anon:

#11 - Why do you hate me?

#30 - What I said before… I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of it.

A/N: Din is mean af when he doesn't know how to "feelings". Helmetless Din is a thing in this, so is the Razor Crest. AGAIN, THIS IS COMING FROM MY PHONE AND I CAN'T ADD A CUT. SORRY FOR THE LONG UNCUT FIC.

Nothing I write is ever proof-read, we all suffer together. If you see a typo, no you didn't.

Category: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort

Warnings: Swearing, Intense Arguing

He wasn't going to let you walk off this time. Not again.

"Hold on!" Din snapped, gripping your wrist as you brushed past him. The movement was instinctive, almost urgent, and he just wanted to end this baseless argument. "Stop for a second."

You ground your teeth hard, throwing your head back in frustration.

The fight had started hours ago, simmering beneath the skin and poisoning your blood with resentment for your companion. He was so fucking infuriating. You hated the way he would tilt his head.

You hated the way he would nod almost mockingly.

You hated the way he stood with his hands on his hips.

But despite all of that, you hated his silence the most.

"What?" You seethed, whirling on him. You were so close you could smell the smoke that lingered on his cloak. "You finally got something to say?"

"If you'd stop yelling, I could get a word in," the Mandalorian said tightly. "We're fighting over nothing."

You raised your brows, leaning back indignantly. Nothing?

"So what you did was nothing?" You snapped, disbelief trickling through your tone. You hated the sharp pang of hurt that rattled your system with his blatant dismissal.

"Not enough to warrant this!" He threw his hand up gesturing at the space between you both.

In a way, he was right. The fight had started off small, something that was more of an inconvenience than anything else. The escalation, though? The escalation was catastrophic.

Din had no understanding of how to have a functional companionship with anyone who wasn't like him. You weren't a bounty hunter, you weren't a seasoned warrior and you definitely weren't an ex-cult member taught to repress their individualism.

Therefore, you were an anomaly to the Mandalorian.You had deeper thoughts, you wanted to discuss topics further and you wanted acknowledgement of your feelings- emotional validation.

That's a difficult thing to expect from someone who had the emotional range of a brick.

"I just want an apology," you rubbed your face roughly, groaning through your fingers. "That's all I want."

Din scoffed, his helmet tipping back as if he were looking to the sky for an escape. There was a suck of air from beneath the helmet, followed by a long suffering sigh. The T of his visor finally levelled with you once more. "I'm sorry."

Your heart fell.

"You don't mean that."

"No," he said simply. "I don't."

You nodded slowly, this was going nowhere. You hadn't expected anything less, the reality of growing into your manhood within the Death Watch was before you. You'd seen the parts of him that wanted to break free free his indoctrination, the part of him that let him take his helmet off freely.

He had denounced his faith, but he'd never recovered from it.

"You're being immature," your mouth was dry when you spoke, "is it so hard to apologise to someone you love?"

Din's body went rigid.

He squared his shoulders, straightening his body to his full height and you knew then that you had struck a nerve unintentionally.

"The people I love don't have the mentality of a kid," the words were a low hiss and your lungs squeezed. "You're a child."

Your eyes widened.

But he wasn't done.

"This isn't a relationship," he said firmly, the visor of his helmet grazing over your body in a way that left you bruised and battered. "I pay you to be here but I don't pay you for companionship, I pay you to work. "

You stared at him for a long moment, mouth parted.

"If I wanted to hire a friend," he began, his tone cruel and urgent, "I wouldn't have picked you."

There was no air to be breathed in, there was no floor beneath you, there was only the sensation of a hand in your chest with a death grip on your heart. 

"Why do you hate me?" Your words were barely a whisper. "You talk like you can't stand me."

"I don't hate you," he said, stepping into your space with rage-fuelled purpose. "But I don't love you. I can't."

You swallowed thickly.

"So, stop expecting it from me."

You felt the cold of the durasteel wall press against your back but it did nothing to ground you.

He was leaning over you now, his finger pointed toward you with accusatory intention. It was only when your breath fell from your lips shakily did he rock back on his heels, chest heaving beneath the weight of his beskar.

Words turned to ash on your tongue. Thoughts dissipated into the mist of your mind. Tears fell from your lashes.

You couldn't even walk away.

Din watched you silently, fingers twitching against his thighs.

You were a fool. Those nights of whispered conversations in the cockpit, the stolen kisses in the dark of the cabin, they meant nothing. You meant nothing.

When he'd begged you to look at him the first time he'd taken off his helmet. When he stole your breath and scattered your thoughts.

When he'd called you beautiful as you writhed beneath him.

You'd meant nothing.

You were only an employee offering extra services.

The thought made you choke.

There was a distant tug from beneath you, the denim against your skin shifting with the movement. Your gaze was blurry when you tore it away from the man before you, blinking at the tears that swarmed your vision. It was clear enough to see Grogu staring right back up at you with those empathetic eyes.

"Hey," the word was wobbly and your voice was thick. You leaned down to pick him up, fingers shaking as they gripped him gently. "Sorry. We were loud."

Din watched the interaction and while you avoided eye contact, you could feel his heavy gaze from beneath the armour. You wished he would just leave, that he would grant you mercy and give you space to recover.

From the corner of his eye, you could see him reach for his helmet with a soft sigh. You didn't want to see his face, you didn't want to have to look him in the eye after such a horrible humiliation.

But what you wanted never mattered and the hiss of the helmet being removed had your stomach sinking.

He said your name.

He said it twice.

But you were nothing to him, and you had a job to return to.

"Take the kid, Mando," you muttered, holding Grogu out towards him gently. Instinctively, the hunter reached for his son, pulling him to rest against his chest with a small hum. The second the child left your fingers, your body felt the cold of his absence.

"I gotta get back," you croaked, pointing your thumb over your shoulder.

"Wait," he murmured, his voice raw and soft.

You didn't.

"I'm sorry," he rasped from behind you, his steps following you down the hallway. You shook your head, moving faster in an attempt to shake him. But this was a ship and a small one at that. 

"Stop," his voice was desperate now as you approached your chambers. "Just stop."

Din gripped your wrist, tugging you back into his hold gently. He wasn't holding the kid anymore and distantly you wondered when he'd managed to put him down.

"Look at me," he whispered, "please."

"Let go." You wanted to be firm as you pulled against his grasp, but the words were weak and unstable. "Please, you've done enough."

The tears were hot and stung as they tracked your cheeks, tracing down the length of your neck in a race to fall first. You were dazed, your body was taut and all you wanted was to curl up and die.

"What I said before," Din murmured urgently, his hand cupping your cheek in an attempt to guide your gaze, "I didn't mean that."

You shook your head, a whimper of disagreeance slipping from your lips. Dropping your gaze to the floor you tried to shake his grip. You didn't want to hear it. You didn't want to see the pity in his eyes. The worry of losing an employee.

Instead, Din tutted beneath his breath and his thumb swept over your tears as he lightly forced your eyes upward, fingers woven through your hair.

"I didn't mean any of it," he promised, brows furrowed. "Look at me, Cyare."

And you did.

That chocolate gaze had always been enough to thaw any ice you might have been harbouring, enough to soften any blow. They were warm and soft and comforting.

They had been home.

But as you looked at him now, through a new lens of tears, you came to a startling realization.

Din Djarin had the eyes of a liar.

#din djarin x reader #star wars #din djarin #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #baby yoda #grogu

[allwaswell16]

F a v o r i t e F i c s O f 2 0 2 2

As an avid One Direction fan fic reader, 2022 has been truly incredible! This may look like a long list for my favorites, but I read so many amazing fics this year that it was so hard to pare it down to just these. Please check out all the other fics I recced this year here! Below you will find fics that made me laugh or cry, brought me joy or filled me with emotion, and surprised or comforted me. I share this list not to say that these fics are better than the rest (although I think they're amazing), but to share ones that left a mark on me.

To all our fandom's writers, I thank you for gifting us with your stories, and I send so much love to all of you!

✼ Larry ✼

The Greatest Thing by @infinitelymint

(E, 163k, canon)  the semi-canon accidentally married in Vegas fic that has been seven years in the making

ghost of you by beckywritesthings / @beckydoesthings

(E, 109k, Star Wars au) a Star Wars AU where Harry is Obi-Wan, Louis is Satine, and somehow there’s a love story between the cracks where there shouldn’t be.

For the Right Reasons by @juliusschmidt

(E, 105k, Bachelor au) Louis may have signed up to be a contestant on the Bachelor, but he’s not interested a ring or a proposal, not from Harry, not from anyone. 

Into the Weeds by kair0sclerosis / @hearyouhowling

(M, 87k, strangers to friends to lovers) This is a story about small-town secrets, found family, queer identities, and the battle between fight and flight.

Late Night Talking by @kingsofeverything

(E, 53k, famous/famous) Louis Tomlinson has a new album coming out and a second world tour on the horizon. Promo season gets underway with a stop at Late Night Talking, the late night show hosted by Harry Styles, and Harry Styles just happens to be the man who blew a chance to date Louis a decade ago.

Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 46k, soulmates au) Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. 

I Like You, Say It Back by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(E, 43k, a/b/o) the one where it takes a lot of time for Harry and Louis to figure it out. But they do, they always do, don't they?

Mind of Stone by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

(M, 41k, mythology au) He needs to find a way back home, and then figure out what the fuck happened at the bar tonight.

yeah, he's a looker (but i really think it's guts that matter most) by devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain

(E, 40k, character study) Five times Oli was asked to do something that was outside of his job description, and the one time he didn't have to be asked.

Set the Sky Alight, Oh Holy Night by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 33k, roommates) One house, five almost-strangers (plus Niall), six new beginnings.

All Out of Love by SunTomato / @sun-tomato

(G, 32k, cupid au) While on a mission to match Liam and Zayn, the distraction comes in the shape of Louis Tomlinson – an overworked and underloved man trying way too hard to do everything himself.

Misbehaving Honeys by thinlines / @thinlinez

(E, 29k, a/b/o) In which Omega Louis can't figure out why the alpha newbie on their footie team seems to hold a grudge against him.

dip you in honey by delsicle / @eeveelou

(E, 28k, a/b/o) Anxious about his performance on his wedding night, he enlists the help of his loyal handmaiden Louis to help him practice everything he needs to know

The Risen by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 20k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

Love On Air by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 19k, radio station) the one where Louis doesn't have a type, no matter what Niall says, but if he did, it'd probably be the guy currently trapped in his radio studio and grinning back at him from across the desk.

Breathe me in, breathe me out by @lunarheslwt

(E, 14k, a/b/o au) Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega.

Close Enough to Touch by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(M, 11k, tour au) Louis definitely did not need a masseuse on tour. Not even if that masseuse turned out to be gorgeous, kind, and lovely.

Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 10k, witch au) Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

Wild As You by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(M, 9k, country au) a story about how Harry figures out whether the ideal of a house with a white picket fence in the suburbs of a medium-sized city is what he wants, or whether Louis' sheep ranch is the home his heart really desires.

Just the Start by @littleroverlouis

(M, 9k, silver fox au) Louis is a fifty-two year old divorcé who has fallen into a rut. He never anticipated a forced day of self care, and a chance meeting with a charming salon owner would shake him out of his comfort zone.

How It Begins (series) by phdmama / @phd-mama

(E, 8k, kid fic) New town, new job, new school for his daughter. It's a chance to start again for Louis Tomlinson, a clean slate. Or is it?

good enough (for you) by localopa / @voulezloux

(G, 8k, a/b/o) in spite of the rule saying he needs an alpha to rule, he creates an impossible olympics to find a worthy mate. 

The Bandits of Sherwood Forest by foreverfanficaddict / @chaotic-bells

(T, 8k, Robin Hood au) There has been a heap of legends and tall tales about him… But this is the story of what really happened in Sherwood Forest.

Mr. Tuesday by @jaerie

(E, 8k, sex work) It was true that most of his clients were regulars, but there was just something about Mr. Tuesday that would make him stand out amongst the others even if he hadn’t booked almost every single Tuesday with him for the past year. 

Will Death Be Our Last Kiss, My Love? by @fallinglikethis

(M, 6k, Potter Direction) As a half-veela, Louis has always had a past full of romantic turmoil. But his past comes back to bite him fully on the ass when a case falls into the lap of fellow aurors, Niall and Liam.

We're Getting Better With Time by @haztobegood

(T, 5k, silver fox au) the one where Louis is single, Harry is recently divorced, and they reconnect on Facebook forty years after they first met.

Seems You Cannot Be Replaced by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(M, 5k, high school) Harry and the popular boy in school, Louis Tomlinson, share a tension-filled night together when they're young. Fifteen years later they see each other again.

Love Mail by @neondiamond

(G, 5k, neighbors au) the one where Harry and Louis keep mistakenly receiving each other’s mail (and also fall in love)

ring around the moon by unwept / @peachade

(T, 5k, historical au) 5 slices where they seek shelter in each other.

Simply the Nest (Better Than All the Rest) by @homosociallyyours

(G, 2k, a/b/o) It's been a few months since Louis moved to a new town, and he still hasn't managed to get his nest to feel as comforting as he'd like it to.

Cake Date? by @sadaveniren

(M, 2k, neighbors) Louis is raising money for a bake sale. Harry wants to help.

Check, Check, Checkmate by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

(E, 2k, Greek mythology au) Harry and Louis play chess... until another game becomes more interesting.

Zoey by @wabadabadaba

(G, 2k, cat fic) Harry has a huge crush on his cat's veterinarian and finally decides to do something about it.

Charm Your Pants Off by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

(G, 2k, hospital au) When Harry hurt himself in front of all of his coworkers, he thought his Christmas Eve couldn’t get any worse. That was, until he ended up in an actual ambulance.

Needle by @nouies

(NR, 666 words, dark fantasy) “You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered between hiccups. “She didn’t have the right.”

there’s a house in english bond (somebody planned to stay) by safetyfilm / @larrieblr

(T, 666 words, rules) The Hotel dates back to the mid-17th century, and the owners have invested dearly to make it a home away from home. Please mind our building rules written below in order to have an exceptional stay.

Swings Said by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(T, 500 words, swing fic) A love story told by five swings who each were there to see a piece of it unfold.

✼ Rare Pairs ✼

leave my life outside (or let me in) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 52k, Zayn/Liam) Zayn is a 111 year old demon who is trying to decide his future. Liam is a 17 year old human struggling with his own life.

Make It Up As We Go Along by @lululawrence

(NR, 52k, OT5, a/b/o) When a baby is left on their doorstep, their lives become the definition of chaos...but maybe that is exactly what they need to see what has been right in front of them all along.

Sweet Talk (series) by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(M, 14k, Louis/Niall) Louis growls and lunges at the slayer without warning. Niall easily deflects her, though, then grabs the collar of Louis’ leather coat with her unnaturally strong grip and throws her back into the wall where she came from. 

With This Wing, I Thee Wed by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 4k, Louis/Niall) “Nando’s?” Niall crosses his arms and pouts, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. “I want Nandos. I like Nandos.” “And I like my dignity,” Louis mutters.

Doin' Somethin' Right by @laynefaire

(E, 5k, Zayn/Liam) While Liam craved the bright lights and excitement of being on the road, Zayn has eschewed his prior fame, instead choosing a life of relative obscurity as the owner of a vineyard and bed and breakfast in Dauphin County, Pennsylvania.

Ready Or Not by cherrylarry / @beelou

(G, 4k, Liam/Louis) five times 1D play hide and seek over the years

still, somehow by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 1k, Liam/Louis) Louis trims Liam's split ends.

#trackinghome #hltracks #tracksintheam #1dficvillage #1dsource #ficrec #disgruntledkittenface #beelou #laynefaire #ladyaj-13 #quelsentiment #lululawrence #so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed #infinitelymint #juliusschmidt #kingsofeverything #beckydoesthings #thedevilinmybrain #hearyouhowling #parmahamlarrie #pocketsunshineharry #haztobegood #jaerie #nouies #larrieblr #wabadabadaba #uhoh-but-yeah-alright #becomeawendybird #neondiamond #evilovesyou

[nervouswitcheystuff]

So—haven't watched finale yet

BUT theory from spoilers I've seen...

Nandor has known for ages Guillermo isn't suited for vamperism. It explains why he has never allowed for more in their relationship. If this is the status quo, Nandor will live on and will either become Guillermo's carer—or, more likely, will "allow" Guillermo to leave him once a better suited paramour arrives (which Freddy was clearly not).

But you can't help your feelings.

Nandor's existential crisis makes EVEN MORE sense within the context that he has ALL THIS POWER AND LIFE...and he cannot grasp the ONE THING he truly wants.

Sunrise. Sunset. Life goes on. So does he.

Nothing changes. He is alone.

He does try to find something permanent—if not for his own need for company, to show Guillermo that he will be okay without him. (To free Guillermo of his honourable duty of serving him).

But he self destructs every chance—if he even took it seriously to begin with.

With the cult, we see Nandor desperately trying to seek the other option: To be human again. He deludes himself and allows himself to be manipulated. But even then, it fails. Those who care about him also inadvertently continue the cycle.

Nothing changes. Nothing lasts. But him.

I suspect Nandor has built in a fail safe.

He hasn't used his last wish. Only one—to ensure he CAN'T use it. Except...

This season a few things have become clear.

1) Laszlo is desperate to be a father, properly

2) Nadja is ready for her sunset years

3) Nandor is waiting for purpose

4) Guillermo is learning what he wants

5) Even Colin is restless

They are all ready to unfreeze time and be human again. Together. An actual family.

From the very beginning, the series ending with them all becoming human has been debated. But it makes sense, if given the power, Nandor would protect that option as a contingency plan if nothing else.

Becoming human would mean Nadja can be properly involved in her culture again, Laszlo can have his freedom in the sun and become a parent with Nadja, Colin as a human would be destructive in the best way, and Nandor and Guillermo can both finally have their true needs and wants met: An equal, supportive romantic relationship.

But Nandor can't make this decision for everyone. He needs them to come to the realisation this is what they want too...

With Laszlo's trip in the sun, Nadja contemplating death and family, Guillermo now rejecting vamperism, and even Colin's becoming more involved in human life...

We're about a season away from this moment.

#wwdits spoilers #nandermo #nandor x guillermo #our shadowed omens #our good shadows #wwdits deep dive #wwdits theory

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 06/02/2024

He is Back.

Season 6 No Album Release (Read More)

Ripped by eg_9371

Requested by Alex Worm and an anonymous reader!

Hey, so, SiIva Team - what the fuck is the deal with the goat?

Like, SiIvaGunner hasn't exactly been a stranger to creepy rips, particularly during its early years. On *** EVERYTHING IS FINE ***, for instance, I talked about the legendary horror that rips of the game "Barbie Horse Adventures: Blue Ribbon Race" have instilled into the audience thanks to just one rip back in Season 1, and we of course have Netyasha Roozi's excellent annual PlayStation Console BIOS rips of every Halloween, such as Play In MissingNo's Station. Yet, for as ominous and spooky as these rips are, I at least feel like I sort of GET them. Even four years on from its debut on the channel, I still don't know what the hell to make of "the standing goat".

Beginning with a rip of Cave Story's Mimiga Town theme back in Season 4 Episode 2, the confusion was immediately apparent - the 10 second video featured in the rip is from a moderately-popular Instagram post describing the goat statue's creepiness factor, and the song used is an arrangement of Pissy Pamper by Young Nudy and Playboi Carti - to my knowledge, with zero actual relation to one another. And sure, Mimigas in Cave Story are fuzzy little guys in an ominous world, that kind of befits the standing goat video - but the thing was, after this video's explosion in confusing reception, the goat just KEPT showing up. He would be recreated in different per-game artstyles like Deltarune and Ace Attorney, yet never properly...explained?

Yet, most bizarre of all, it seems as if for a small while the channel was playing at some sort of culmination to all of its buildup. During DJ Professor K's one-day takeover, an otherwise inconspicuous rip had the message "He is coming." hidden in its description - only for said rip to be followed up by Game Over/Password - Altered Beast, an arrangement of Pissy Pamper that effectively jumpscares you with the goat's presence by the end of it. The message hidden in its description? "He is here. Run.". And this Altered Beast rip was also part of an already-existing pattern with rips featuring the goat: "Memory", "Mysterious Crash", "Good Night", "Game Over" - several rips utilizing the creature seemed to explicitly be hinting at something far more ominous than what the video alone lets on.

Which brings us to the first true descent into this madness, one that stood out like nothing else quite did during Season 6's Halloween event: He is Back. In an event otherwise characterized by its lighthearted use of David S. Pumpkins, in-universe contextualized as little more than a fun halloween party, there's something yet more unsettling about the goat we've all been wondering about, reappearing in a rip that feels flat-out dangerous in atmosphere. The messages from the video description continue, this time saying - "Look behind you. I said, look behind you." - as if there's someone we aren't aware of attempting to save us from whatever this...creature is trying to achieve on the channel. Althewhile, the Pissy Pamper audio instrumental added on top makes what's otherwise primarily garbled noise from P.T.'s radio stations turn into a...surprisingly listenable, sort of glitch-hop-like banger?

The video end by leaving us with more questions than answers, as the video abruptly cuts to an error screen with the words "HE IS HERE" repeating over and over in many languages. And since He is Back's upload, we've...barely seen the goat anywhere. There's been yet one more possible development to his story, during Season 7's "The Cult of Proto" event, yet his fate and relevance to the channel remains as mysterious as it did many years ago.

For all that has and hasn't happened in the later Seasons of SiIvaGunner, I truly do love that mysteries like this still linger within the channel's mythos. And yeah, deep down I do know that these goat videos aren't meant to be amounting to anything bigger - they're just a silly, bizarre in-joke that's gradually taken on more and more creepy undertones. But there is something genuinely fun about that progression even having happened in the first place, isn't there? The goat could've easily just been left as one of many wacky out-of-nowhere jokes that Season 4s episodes debuted, yet he's been quietly sticking around, used by a small handful of rippers who seemingly have more in stock for the little guy than one would first think.

I, for one, welcome our good friend Billy with open arms.

#todays siivagunner #season 6 #siivagunner #siiva #tentative rip name #rip visuals #eg_9371 #Youtube #goat #standing goat #billy the kid goat #P.T. #pt game #silent hill

[jenyifer]

Pit Babe ep 13 initial reaction

Okay let’s do the final photo review. Okay ep 11 10 12 weren’t for me but I think 13 was good. My initial rating has to be an 8/10. A very surprising 8/10.

I was EXTREMELY upset that the racing bl that I had been looking forward to was ABO I like race car driving in general so I really was said abo was gonna happen. However this show didn’t take ABO in the creepy ways I hate mainly the sexism and homosexuality of it all. Honestly it’s straight girl’s fantasy most of the time. As a lesbian I am turned off by the sexism and breeding 🤮. But Pitbabe was interesting and bearable idk if there are subsequent seasons will lean into those tropes but I hope not. I love the actor for Babe he’s extremely talented ep13 only cemented this for me. I really enjoyed JeffAlan, PeteKenta, and NorthSonic I thought they had a good amount of side character relationships. JeffAlan felt very natural and sweet. I loved the characters of Kim and Kenta just interesting. What I didn’t like was how clownery the plot was. It was a little cheesy hokey. I think the writing didn’t do any favors for Charlie either. Charlie is very V A N I L L A I don’t think it’s the actors fault. I’ve decided it’s writing. Although I think the motivation of Tony was cartoon villain the actor really brought the evil to life I enjoyed his portrayal of a cult leader really. Anyways let’s get on to the photo review

Babe in this scene is just chef kiss if people question can bl peeps act show them this. He’s hysterical to see Charlie again. I was worried Babe would just accept Charlie back or be Angry but this is better. You can see he’s hurt but so happy Charlie is alive and with him that Babe is healed in a way. Charlie was being weird but I think it’s the writing. So beautiful in his emotions omg.

Wow… the three of them beating up winner and NorthSonic uploading the video. So cool. Really these scenes had me sitting on the edge of my seat rooting for them. ALSO WE ALL KNOW I LOVE KIM. I’m on board with Kim being a third for NorthSonic. Kim is also very fashionable. He fits in perfectly.

A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now

You’re here and that’s all I need to know

I’m glad someone died. I do find it poetic and fitting that Way died saving Babe very full circle. I didn’t hate Way as much as everyone else. He was wrong for what he did but… I feel like he had the bones and the actor to make a compelling rejected love interest. I do think babe always cared about way in a true friendship which was beautiful.

Pete and Kenta bad ass bitches getting shit done. I think Kenta might legit be Tony’s child. Like biologically. That would be a good twist. I was said we didn’t get any PeteKenta reunion in the end.

Alan and Jeff are so…

Idk they have very high chemistry. Jeff really feels like a person who hasn’t been exposed to the real world really and he’s truly trying to comfort Alan. To be fair Alan has been through a shit ton but he does feel that pain and seeks comfort in Jeff. It’s very sweet even though we get the sexy scenes for them.

Quick note is way buried at the race track or something?! Why is his grave on his own?! Way’s ghost is going to be lonely…. It’s pretty but still.

The my kid is sick and so I need to sell him trope is sadly something I’ve seen before BUT!!!! I enjoyed the Dad’s acting he seemed really torn about it and he never ever gave up.

North Sonic’s contrast pants and hyping up Kim was perfect. Kim being happy to watch Babe and Charlie is very endearing. I hope Kim and Babe can be besties who push each other. I know Kim isn’t a special alpha but I like the dynamic of him being the best human? Idk. He’s 10/10 I love him.

Idk why Babe is so shy about Charlie lol it was very cute.

ALAN AND JEFF’s BRACELETS AND SNUGGLING ONTOP OF THE CAR OMG UNDERSTATED MARRIED COUPLE THINGS

How beautiful. I really loved this show and I enjoyed the ending. I wish Pete and Kenta had been there but I found this very beautiful and meaninful. Babe and Charlie crashing Alan’s intricate date so they can be found family couples together gahhh I really loved the family aspect to the series it wasn’t super loud or overdone but you knew Babe Alan North Sonic were truly family who added in Charlie Kim Jeff.

Anyways I had fun idk what I’m watching next. I need to catch up on 23,5 or I’ll lose my lesbian card hahahaha but I am quite busy. If anyone has a suggestion for what I should start on next plzzz tell me. Other people motivate me more than myself hahaha.

#pit babe #pit babe the series #pit babe ep 13 #pit babe episode 13 #charliebabe #alanjeff #kimnorthsonic #petekenta #Jenny’s watching #thai bl #thai bl review

[daydreaming-jessi]

The Lamb is reminded of how close their old enemies are now.

They weren’t sure how much time passed, the lighting inside the temple was always off. Dyed a deep red, forever keeping the interior aglow no matter the Sun’s position outside. All they could hear was the steady rise and fall of the racing wind outside that the morning brought.

A headache was gnawing on the Lamb’s skull, having found them slumped over the altar. A modge podge table cover of scrolls and ink splattered parchment scraps lay beneath them, no doubt staining their wool. Empty ink bottles littering the floor around their hooves, as well as the half drunk bottle of wine they were gifted by the Lighthouse Keeper in Pilgrim’s Passage.

They tapped the quill against their current scroll, looking through their current progress for the hundredth time. This was the worst part of godhood, they found. No longer could they rely on an ancient eldritch being breathing down their neck and whispering to them exactly what to write, how to eloquently string their words together in a harmonious passage. They were good at coming up with new sermons on the spot, they only needed a vague outline to work off of, but actual scripture just stumped them. The flowery language they tried to write with left them dizzy and tired, and that was if they weren’t struggling to come up with something to jot down in the first place. The curse of an empty slate, Narinder had called it.

They leaned back with a drawn out sigh, reaching down to tip back a few generous gulps of wine. Tart blackberries seasoned with sweet spices rolled over their tongue, the back of their throat tingling as a quiet flame was stoked. They should see if they couldn’t get someone else to write this. Surely Plimbo knew someone? He always knew someone. Or maybe Forneus, she seemed a master with the type of prose expected of a God’s writing.

The heavy doors of the temple creaked open, to their annoyance. Was it too much to ask for quiet doors in their dedicated house of worship?

The Lamb looked down the carved stone floor, swallowing a final mouthful of wine. “Shamura?”

The spider stepped through the heavy doors, a cloak carefully draped over their shoulders. “Leshy said you’d be in here,” they noted, pulling down their hood.

The Lamb pulled away from the altar, eager for the break. “What can I do for you?” They asked, hopping off the stage.

They looked around the temple, their eyes tired. “I’d heard you had a successful run in Darkwood.”

The Lamb nodded. “Yes, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten through it so fast before, to be honest. Made for good time.” They tapped their hooves together, considering Shamura thoughtfully. “I should be able to make my way to Anchordeep next, should no further delays crop up.”

Their eyes finally met the Lamb, flickers of hope washing out the dull exhaustion. “Truly? Then you are..?”

The Lamb nodded. “Yup, he’s next.”

Shamura closed their eyes and stilled for a moment, their hand pressed above their heart. “Good, that’s… that’s very good.” They looked down to the Lamb once more, concern softening their features. “You should be careful. The waters grow cold this time of year. Many stay away from the deeper valleys of the sea, and you would do well to keep their example.”

The Lamb knickered, scratching the back of their head. “I’ll be careful. I’d rather not face the embarrassment of dying to frostbite.”

Shamura tugged a small sack from their belt and offered it to them. “This might help, trivial as it might be. It’s a new blend Almer came up with. It’s an interesting mix, has a good aroma. And I know for a fact my dear brother will despise it.”

The Lamb’s ears flicked with curiosity. Narinder always wound up stealing their tea, no matter how much they babysat their mug, he always managed to sneak it past them. It’d almost become a game at this point, yet another in their endless teasing, but it would be nice to enjoy a full mug for once without choking down boiling hot water like the cult was on fire.

“Thank you! I’ll be needing it,” they signed, before tucking the pouch away. As they shifted, something thick pressed against their back, reminding them of its presence.

“Oh! Right, I got you a gift as well, fresh from Silk Cradle. I stopped by there for some stone today.” They pulled out the package and nimbly untied the rough twine. Pushing the cloth aside, they pulled out an off-white lump, and handed it over.

Shamura took the carefully wound ball of spider silk, their claws gentle like it was a child. They pulled out a piece of string, holding it up for a better look, the starlight color of the string somehow still shining through despite the red lighting.

“Ah, yes, yes hello.” Their pupils dilated, further highlighting the string before them, bringing it closer as they examined its quality. Slowly, their gaze grew unfocused, and the grip grew slack. The Lamb tilted their head curiously.

“Shamura?” They reached a hand out when Shamura just… changed, right before their eyes.

Their spine straightened, their chin tilting up, the red glow of the temple coloring their eyes. They were unnaturally stiff, their limbs jerking, their eyes endlessly roaming the temple walls. There was almost a snarl curling around their fangs.

“Many-legged creature, stalk through the night… wrapped in web, yet still they fight…" Their gaze darted to the Lamb, and they instinctively stepped back. There was something familiar in Shamura’s expression, an uncaring clairvoyance they’d seen only a few times before.

“In my silk, I snared a crown.”

Despite their earlier twitching, Shamura smoothly leaned closer to the Lamb, and they backed further away, dread clawing up their spine. The shadows around them lengthened, bringing a chill that wicked away the stifling heat from the countless lit candles. The red glow of the temple dulled, darkening and taking on a purple tinge.

“To their faith, irrevocably bound.”

The two sets of eyes drilled into the Lamb, splitting away all the layers of protection, ripping down all their walls and plunging within, ripping out the soul, holding it aloft for the entirety of the empty temple to behold.

They lifted a claw, and placed it on the center of the Lamb’s forehead.

“I wrapped a precious thing in web and nestled it deep in the bosom of Silk Cradle… but where? When?”

Their head tilted up, their shaking pupils focusing on the red eye of the crown enshrined within the stained windows. Ever staring back.

“And what?”

“Stop.” The crown shook with the pent up energy, the Lamb’s red fleece fluttering with power. Their eyes rolled back, leaving milky white narrowed on the towering spider before them, unnaturally sharp fangs glistening in their snarl. Red globs of viscous liquid bubbled through the floorboards around their hooves.

Shamura studied the quivering creature before them for a beat, when the moment seemed to pass.

They wilted, their shoulders drawing down, the intensity of their focus rapidly vanished, and a slow line of black ichor made its way down their features. Black stains began to blossom on the bandages wrapping their head, and they stumbled to the ground.

The Lamb’s eyes returned to normal and they shot forward, catching Shamura before they fully collapsed. “H-hey, whoa! Are you ok? What’s happening? What’s wrong?”

“Visions… always… worst of moments…” They pinched the space between their main eyes with a pained groan, their hushed tone barely rising above audible. The Lamb had to lean in closer just to catch what little mumbles they managed, despite their instincts rearing away with a scream to run.

“You… you mentioned something in Silk Cradle. Is it… causing this?” The Lamb pressed, and Shamura shook their head, gently massaging the flesh under their bandages.

“No, no… I am…” their ragged breathing finally began to steady. “This is simply a symptom of past mistakes.”

The Lamb glanced up to their bled through head dressings, biting their lip worriedly. “If there’s something we can do-“

Shamura suddenly heaved themselves to their feet, their legs shaking under the sudden weight. “No. I have managed this setback so far. You mustn’t lose focus now.”

“But-“

They lifted a hand, halting the Lamb’s protest.

“After.”

They offered assistance, and the Lamb hesitantly accepted. “I can bear the wait knowing Kallamar’s just around the corner. When he is home, I will accept your aid then.” They leveled the Lamb a look, endlessly exhausted. “Please…”

They grimaced. “I… very well. But I want you to rest in the meantime. This ,” they gestured to the drying streaks of blood and ichor on their fur, “is worrying.”

Shamura took a shaky breath, and nodded. “Y-yes, I think I agree. I shall rest these coming days.” They started to turn away.

“Do you need help getting to your home?” The Lamb asked, and they shook their head.

“I’ll be fine, thank you.” They paused at the door, staring intently at the carved wood. “Apologies, for this episode. I didn’t wish to rattle you.”

The Lamb clasped their hooves together, putting on a bright smile. “What are you talking about? You didn’t scare me. I was just surprised, is all.”

Shamura glanced back once, their steady gaze probing the Lamb’s. “Of course. I’ll be on my way, then.”

The door squealed shut behind them, leaving the Lamb alone.

The smile dropped.

With shaking legs, they managed to stumble over to the wall, where they leaned their weight against the solid wooden pillars. They drew a shaky breath, and another, but nothing slowed their racing heart. They let their head fall back, closing their eyes. The candlelight flickered through their eyelids, twisting with shapeless shadows. Their mind conjured up faces in the twisting dance, old remnants of the past they were starting to give up on burying.

How long could memories haunt a god? Judging by what they’d seen from their predecessors and their own personal experience, they weren’t sure they liked the possible answer.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl shamura #cotl the lamb #follower shamura #fanfic #fanfiction

[go-to-the-mirror]

If you get Jon's self-loathing and curiosity stats high enough, it'll override his cowardice stat.

Yeah so hi time for MAG 143!!! This is... not my favourite episode, but it's alright, I mean Helen's there, and I love Helen.

So, might not have that much to say, but I sure will be speaking. (Update! I do have good words! My brain is so cool you guys)

@a-mag-a-day

BASIRA Eyes peeled. [Pause.] ARCHIVIST Was that a joke?

I'm holding him gently <3

ARCHIVIST They weren’t lying. BASIRA Wait, you did your… ARCHIVIST Oh, yeah, I don’t think they noticed.

Mate, he was purposefully compelling people back in season 3, like, if you have the power to get 100% accurate information then why wouldn't you use it? Monster anyway, you know, might as well use it to your advantage.

BASIRA So what? This was another waste of time? No church. No Dark Sun. I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.

Please.

ARCHIVIST Oh, charming.

He's a fucking dork, you honour <3

ARCHIVIST (Compelling) What happened? MANUELA Don’t … Don’t make me. Please. ARCHIVIST (Compelling) Tell me.

Jon.

And it's like, Basira isn't protesting, but like, I sort of get it? We know about the dreams, we know that his... victims... are suffering, but Scrutiny is like, yeah. They are. Like, I can understand why Basira wouldn't view Jon... yk, compelling people as a bad thing here? It's useful, and she values that, but she doesn't really get the after effects? Maybe? Or maybe it's just because Manuela is "evil" and therefore "deserves it."

Jon does know what happens to them though, and directly...

Oh, right. Not gonna say what I just came to a conclusion on in case it's stupid but I Got Something.

Hither Green was, I believe, where your institute was watching, but Natalie’s efforts were a small and meagre part of the greater effort.

She was literally unscrewing lightbulbs. How was that supposed to end the world???

But we got so close. We touched it. There is another world, a world of still and quiet darkness, where no heat touches and death cannot find you. You might wander beneath that empty sky of void forever and never see a light to guide your way.

But, see, this could be the Lonely, the Extinction, hell even the End, or the Vast. This is not a purely dark world, there is no such thing. Like the colour green. All the green we see, is not true green.

For that night is not empty, far from it. Things move there: the sounds of shuffling, scuttling, crawling. A scream. The fall of gentle stagnant raindrops that chills you as you try desperately to know if that is the sound of the storm or something out there?

The Hunt, The Slaughter, this isn't simply dark.

Natalie and the others followed, but they did not truly understand.

Yeah, duh, she was unscrewing lightbulbs.

Also like, it's actually like... not just spooky cult, but like Natalie joined after her mum died, Manuela left another cult. Feels like a cross between an actual cult, a ✨spooky✨ cult, and the Yiga Clan from Breath of the Wild.

All at once, that loving embrace was stripped from us, and it began to retreat, to recede back into the place that it had come from. We were so close. We were so close.

She sounds so heartbroken.

ARCHIVIST (Compelling) How dangerous is it? MANUELA Only myself, Maxwell and Natalie could even look upon it. It will annihilate you both in an instant. BASIRA Ask her how we can destroy it. ARCHIVIST I know how. I just need to see it. BASIRA See, as in… ARCHIVIST As in, actually see it. MANUELA Go ahead. Just try. BASIRA Look, it’s alright, Jon. No-one else knows it’s here, and if we just leave it, no one will know. ARCHIVIST No, I’m doing this. Get out.

(basira voice) JON! You stupid idiot!

No, but... is this curiosity? Maybe, he's done a similar thing of knowing that he will get hurt and yet doing something anyways for information. Is this because of the self loathing? Maybe, feels pretty similar to "no one can get out of the buried" and then he goes into the buried.

He's not a stupid idiot, he has a reason, but it's a bad reason.

[Static can be heard, growing louder] ARCHIVIST It’s… it's beautiful. MANUELA (Gasps) No! [The static suddenly stops]

I've been thinking about what it would look like, and I think I've come up with a good image of it. You know when you close your eyes - you might have to put your hands over them - and you can see patterns? And you can find that darkness and follow it, and it becomes darker, darker, yet darker (/ref) ad infinitum. You can just stare at the darkness when your eyes are closed, until it's darker than it should even be possible to be dark, and still getting darker.

That's what looking in the dark sun is like, at least I think.

ARCHIVIST Did you catch her? HELEN Yes. (The Archivist gasps.)

Great gasping, Jonny, ten out of ten!

No but... that is great gasping. Jonny's voice acting is just really good.

HELEN How was it, looking upon The Dark? ARCHIVIST I thought I was going to die. HELEN You seem to think that a lot. I remember when you thought you were going to die at my threshold. ARCHIVIST Yeah.

I CARE THEM YOUR HONOUR

Like, hhh just the way they deliver their lines first of all, how can you have so much fucking baggage in a single "Yeah." Like?? The pause, the light tone of Helen vs the "I have just been through another traumatizing event, are you really reminding me of a previous one" tone of Jon.

Drawing the parallels from 101 to this episode? Would you die to save the world? Every time Jon has answered yes. Also the door was locked and this helped end the world? That's fucked? The door was locked? He would have made that choice, save yourself, safe the world, but the door was locked, like??? And here, he made the choice, look at the dark sun, make sure they can never attempt it again, die, and he chose to do that, but all it did was bring Jonah Magnus one step further along his evil plan.

I have like so many feelings about Jon and Helen, so many feelings about this one bit of dialogue. "I thought I was going to die." OH MY GODDD

NO one gets them like I do. They're my blorbos your honour, and they're so fucked up and evil, and they're so fucked up full stop.

Once again tag me in ALL Crew QnA Jon traumatizing people who worked on tma edition I want to see them so much!!!!

HELEN Go find your Basira, then let’s get you both home.

"Home."

:(

#tma #the magnus archives #mag 143 #jonathan sims #helen distortion #helen #a mag a day #jonathan sims + helen distortion #tma meta #is there a tag for jon and helen? #hm #anyway please talk to me about jon and helen #i want to talk about them #always #landscaping your mind chapter one

[alderwoodbooks]

alrighty y’all.

I’ve been a bit afraid to write up my final thoughts on Red Rising by Pierce Brown because this book series has a cult following, and I’d love to sit here and tell you I understand why, but I truly can’t. A reminder before I get torn to threads that taste is subjective and I’m not telling you that you can’t enjoy these books! I’m just saying, I very much did not. <3

This book felt like a dumpster fire from start to finish. I posted earlier, when I was less than a quarter through the book with some of my issues with the book (the lack of originality, the insufferable main character, the clunky dialogue and overall just poor writing in general, and the way that all women are portrayed in the book as less than) and unfortunately for me, it did not get better. I read a review from someone else that said this book felt like if an angry 12 year old boy rewrote the hunger games and it made me laugh because I couldn’t agree more. There are so many elements of the story that remind me of other stories and it just makes the whole story fall very flat and feel very unoriginal, and very try hard. Despite the brutality in the story, it very much reads like a bad young adult dystopian novel, and good lord have I read my fair share of those.

One of the biggest issues I had with this book was the extreme misogyny. All of the female characters are constantly treated as less than, they are never seen as strong leaders, and if they are, they are quickly defeated by you guessed it, the strong macho men. The women are seen as prizes to be won in the games of war, the amount of extreme violence against them was astonishing. To me- it didn’t fit within the world of the book. These women are literally genetically modified to be the best humans in the world/universe, and so why are they seen as weaker and smaller and frailer than the men, and then dealing with all of this violence against them? Maybe it was supposed to be a “lord of the flies” type of moment, but if so, it was not written clearly enough, and instead just reads as misogyny coming from pierce brown himself? I’m not sure, but it didn’t feel right, and it was also painful to read. I was told that there was a reason behind it and that it gets explained at the end of the book, and maybe I’m just missing something, but I didn’t catch it, and also, I don’t want to have to sit through an entire book of misogynistic and at times, extremely homophobic (the pixies comments throughout the book feel a little ick to me personally, I dont love it.) bullshit for no real reason.

I’ve read a lot of sci-fi and fantasy this year, in fact, I’ve read almost exclusively sci-fi and fantasy, and Red Rising was probably one of the worst books I’ve read this year, but, it’s so loved by many, and I was encouraged to finish it because “it gets better!” I am still debating on reading the second book because again, I’ve heard it gets better, but I’ve also got three other sci-fi books on my tbr list that I know for a fact are going to be good (the second murderbot diary’s book, the new edition of the bone season which I’m so excited to dive into as soon as I finish my current read, which is the traitor of baru cormorant, which is such a nice pallet cleanser, and then I’ve got two neil shusterman books I want to dive into) and so I’m not so sure I want to devote the time or energy into it.

All in all, I went into this book not expecting much, just knowing that I heard many mixed reviews. I wanted to like the story, I really did, but it felt like a poor rendition of a bunch of other, better written, better executed, dystopian stories, mixed with some white boy misogyny, homophobia and rage. I ended up giving it a 1.5 stars out of 5 and I still feel like that’s being generous.

#book blog #book review #bookish #booklr #books and reading #fantasy books #red rising #scifi books #study motivation #studyspo #scifi #scifibooks #pierce brown #tbrbusterchallenge2023 #tbr list #tbr pile #book tbr #kindle #kindle reads

[flower-biter]

25-31 March 2024

It’s just a lot of rambling this week.

On repeat: Too Sweet by Hozier. Idk what that man puts in his music, but I cannot stop listening to this song or get it out of my head.

I gave up on The Shining. Just, ugh, I don’t have the energy for it. I don’t really have the brain energy to read anything else either right now.

Finished the crochet bag! It’s a little bit wonky, but it will hold stuff. I want to make another one a little bit bigger and with a longer strap, but I like the single strap and cylindrical design. (This is the pattern I used)

Guy friend told me I have “very masculine energy, but you wear it well” (uh, thanks? Is it the bitchiness bossiness? Or just the buzz cut/lipstick combo? It does make me feel very Gender™, whatever that may be). We got second place at trivia, so next week’s beers are free, which, Nice. Really it’s just a confidence boost to not be in the bottom three again.

I booked flights for my next trip to NYC, going up in June to visit my sister before she starts at Columbia in the fall. I love having a trip to plan/something to look forward to. I’ve already booked us tickets for a walking tour of Green-Wood Cemetery that focuses on the Victorian language of flowers on grave markers (which I’m really excited about!) and have a running list of museums, bookstores and lesbian bars I want to check out (but am taking suggestions!)

Haircut again. Buzzed it down to a #3 on top and #2 on the sides, the shortest I’ve ever done. I love having my own clippers and not having to deal with weird looks at the salon; truly a dyke’s (second) best buzzing friend.

It’s weird seeing so much of my scalp, but it’s so soft and fuzzy. I’m experimenting with tying silk scarves to wear when I want to feel a little more feminine, or want some sun protection other than a hat. I feel like I look like I’m wearing a funky surgical cap, or like I’m appropriating tignons, when the vibe I'm going for is more like the workday headscarves of my Hungarian & Polish great-grandmothers. I’m still playing with different ties at home before I wear them out and about, but the silk feels so nice and I like being covered, as well as finding ways to wear my collection in all seasons, not just autumn/winter.

I had a gloriously lazy Saturday: took Butterball to the vet (he’s fine, just a checkup, and he has since forgiven me for the terrible six-minute car ride) and did a little housework (all the doors and windows are open, it’s warm and sunny and breezy and all the birds are singingggg!) but otherwise lazed around crocheting: on the sofa, on the porch swing, sitting weirdly on my desk chair. And then my neck and back hurt from shrimping, so I had floor time in a sun beam with the cat, and then just laid outside in the grass in the late afternoon sun and had the best nap of my life, and miraculously didn’t get sunburnt falling asleep outside. Truly how weekends are meant to be spent.

I’ve been slowly adding to my sister’s red blanket (why did I make this 300 stitches wide. it’s enormous and so heavy and not even a quarter of the way done. Claire I hope you appreciate this when I finally send it to you) and started a super simple sweater for myself. The yarn is such a silky cotton with gorgeous drape, and I love the rusty orange color. I have no illusions that I can make anything perfectly, but I want to do really well with this one and do this pretty yarn justice even though it’s already full of cat hair. Sigh.

I STILL haven’t finished editing my photos from my last Charleston trip. Really need to get on that today.

I forgot it’s Easter; I’m really too old & agnostic to be getting an Easter basket, but my mom gave me a little chocolate rabbit and nice rose-scented candle anyway. My youngest sister and her husband are coming over for a big dinner later; I get to spend the day with the cat and doing laundry and some chores I didn’t get to yesterday. I’m just going to try to ignore all the religiosity. It feels like escaping a cult; I grew up in it and fully believed for so long, but now from the outside, I find it baffling and disturbing and am infuriated by the hypocrisy (I could write a whole series of essays on growing up queer & southern baptist but will spare y’all).

Okay…didn’t really talk about what happened this week (mostly because not much of anything happened) but that’s enough Thoughts™ for now. Onward.

last week

#costar really said girlie your neurodivergence is showing #i really didn't take many pictures this week so have an extra butterball #mixed feelings about putting my face on here but. hi. #one of those weeks where everything happens in my head more than irl. oh well #catalog of little joys

[quillyfied]

I think what is getting me is that this is the first time the vampire show has truly felt like it could’ve been horror.

Like, alright, the Mosquito Club trying to take down a vampire nest? Decent, but still within the tone of the show in a “violent and people do die but we don’t make a big deal about it” way. There have been other moments that could be scary or could be sad (and have been sad!), but this episode…it’s making me think.

Obviously, Marwa’s arc the whole season has been one slow horror story. And what happened to her this episode is the icing on the horror cake. She doesn’t exist anymore. She’s a clone of a white British dude now, victim to the whims of her husband who used her up in his ongoing search for happiness. Which frankly is still on brand for Nandor. Last season he tried to change himself to be happy and joined a jazzercise cult. This season he latches onto someone else and changes her to make himself happy and she ends up a completely different person in a literal way. I trust the writers to not leave Marwa there, even if it doesn’t happen in the finale, because the root of what happened to her is the same as the root of why Nandor got sucked into a cult (and he got better, or at least stopped pulling his teeth out and wearing short shorts, bc the root of that is by no means fixed): Nandor is relentlessly depressed with his life and himself. This is the emotional rug pull, folks. If Marwa doesn’t get true closure I will be very surprised, because the slow subtle build of horror in what’s happening to her in this comedy show feels precisely like how last season Laszlo’s subtle emotional build to Colin Robinson’s death took the rug out—and then Colin Robinson was reborn. The tragedy was not reversed, its heaviness wasn’t made obsolete, it just took a different turn and grew into something new. And I fully believe Marwa is going to have something similar happen for her. A more graceful exit, if nothing else.

Absolutely people should be angry and upset about it, because that’s the point that the story has been trying to make, that what Nandor is doing to Marwa isn’t right, but I would hang on about feeling betrayed by the writers just yet. We have one episode to go in this season and two seasons after that, and I have yet to find a character arc that felt THAT flat or wrong-footed in this show. A little patience and faith, I think, just a crumb. Show’s not over yet.

#wwdits spoilers #wwdits season 4 #wwdits #like yes your anger is absolutely justified but aim it at the story not the writers just yet #if that’s truly marwa’s end then yes holy heck what no that’s effed up and the writers deserve to know the displeasure of its fanbase #and fix it in a future season #but I’m willing to wait a little bit to see how this plays out #I got away from my original point but: yeah this episode was kind of truly horror in such a weird genre subversive way

[spicyicymeloncat]

Okay weird post that I’m not sure anyone will get. But it’s late o’clock at night and I’m bored and going insane so here’s:

Ninjago villains if they were avatars from the Magnus archives

Skulkin: the slaughter, since they’re all fallen warriors and such

Garmadon: the corruption, due to his evilness being tied to the snake venom, and how he wants to infect the world with his evil. He also undergoes several bodily transformations

Serpentine: large connected cults with sects for multiple entities

Skales, and the hypnobrai: the web, due to their hypnosis. Skales in particular is always scheming behind the scenes, whilst being victim to being used and controlled by his superiors

Fangpire: the corruption. Contaminating and poisoning other things in order to grow their numbers

Venomarie: the spiral, their venom has psychedelics and trick and confuse others.

Constrictai: the buried. They literally dig and attack via choking, it checks out

Anacondrai: the slaughter. They are most feared and fiercest warriors and they ended up turning on eachother

Pythor: like Mary Keay, or Juergen Leitner, Pythor is a dabbler in a variety of entities, never truly being faithful to one. His ability to sneak up on others and be a childhood terror could be linked to the dark, his manipulative ways, the web, his anacondrai roots and being the sole survivor marks him with the slaughter and the lonely etc etc.

The great devourer: the extinction. Is a kaiju level threat, and acid attacks can be likened to radioactive waste. As well as this, the devourer’s own kind is extinct. The devourer is probably a failed ritual attempt.

The overlord: the web, he creates a web in s3 and has a habit of possessing and controlling others

Stone army: the slaughter. They are literally mindless soldiers built to fight in a war.

Nindroid army: the web due to their connectedness via the the internet and well as them being programmed to do what others say. Additionally they have control of the city due to the city’s reliance of technology

Chen: whilst his tournament feeds the slaughter due to it being about violence about each other, Chen, like leitner, would try to collect power from all entities

Clouse: the eye, he strives to study all about the dark powers

Morro: the end. He’s a ghost. The same for the preeminent

Ronin: the hunt. He’s a bounty hunter trying to avoid being hunted himself

Nadakhan: the spiral, twists one’s words into something else, lies and cheats and causes bafflement and pain

The time twins: idk probably the extinction. They’re connected to the great devourer due to the vermillion being created from it, and Krux hates technology which is linked to the extinction

Harumi: the web. She sings a creepy song about spiders and manipulates Lloyd

Iron baron: the hunt. It’s literally the name of the season.

The oni: the dark. They hide in the shadows and any who are lost in their darkness do not reappear.

Aspheera: the desolation. She has fire and her backstory is all about the sting of betrayal, and wanting to cause pain and revenge to those she felt hurt by.

The ice emperor and vex: the lonely. Zane is already incredibly inclined to the lonely, due to being an amnesiac orphan who realises he’s different from others and is afraid of forgetting everyone he loves. The ice emperor is that but more. Vex is also an avatar of the lonely due to his fury of being unlike the other formlings, and then being rejected by both the formlings and the ice samurai

Unagami: perhaps the spiral? Unagami creates a virtual world where the players can’t tell what’s real or digital, and the npc’s can’t tell if they’re real or not.

Vangelis: the buried. Vangelis traps and enslaved people under a mountain, and uses the powers of fossilised bones and skeletons

Kalmaar and Wojira: the vast. He believes in the superior power of the sea, and how it’s vastness can swallow any land dwelling life. Wojira is a creature tied to both the sea and the sky

#started writing this at 3am yesterday lol #ninjago #the magnus archives #idk what this is lol #also I didn’t include the mechanic bc I genuinely don’t know what he’s be lol #i guess he’s just not scary

[sweaterkittensahoy]

Best line of the latest Righteous Gemstones ep (3.7 Burn for Burn, Wood for Wood, Stripe for Stripe) goes to Skyler Gisondo as Gideon saying, "Let's see how fast you fuckers run" while sitting in his daddy's monster truck about to mow down his cult leader uncle.

Weird-sweet moment of the episode goes to Tiffany, who is forever my favorite because she truly loves the Gemstones and brings those little dolls to comfort everyone, and I will protect her with my life.

Fucking lost it laughing moment to Baby Billy rolling Lionel in the stroller and just letting go the moment he hit dead center on the doorway to the next room. Born showman, that boy.

I don't post about it every week because then I'd post nothing else all week because literally I will call Sean the rest of the week going, "Another thing about Gemstones." But, like, this show FUCKS. I grew up adjacent to this megachurch nonsense, and it's so dead on in the satire while being bone deep sincere about who these characters are.

I am VERY curious to see where things go with Gideon reading Eli's latest autobio. Something big is brewing there. And I'm still curious where the BJ and Judy situation is going to end up, and I really want to see Jesse properly grovel at Amber's feet for being a dick this season because she's having success outside of him and it clearly chafes his asshole.

And, look, yes, I need Keefe and Kelvin to realize they are full of the gay feels, but it is a sitcom trope to have double pining idiots, and it's saying a LOT about repressed queer sexuality within restrictive religious structures. So, I'm not putting any money on the two of them moving beyond their painful, dumb lust and adoration of one another.

#righteous gemstones #fuck i love this show #this is some proper southern shit

[stwritings]

Funny Seeing You Here

Synopsis

Long time in-patient y/n was looking forward to her upcoming discharge date from the Hawkins Memorial Hospital. That is, until she became acquainted with an unlikely familiar face, Eddie Munson.

Author’s Note

This is a fix it fic following Stranger Things season 4, volume 2. In this fic, we’re going to forget the fact that the Duffer Brothers decided to delete Eddie from the series. :-) These events take place after the battle in the upside down. I’m also choosing to change the ending of season 4 by having the issue with the upside down resolved, therefore, Hawkins is not plagued by the massive earthquake that resulted in new portals being opened.

What To Expect

Slow burn, angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut in later chapters. ♡

Series Warnings

Mentions of mental health struggles, SMUT (in the later chapters, 18+ to read this story), angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence.

Chapter 8

What was approximately 30 seconds of silence felt like minutes, as y/n was racking her brain trying to find an appropriate explanation for her absence. Not wanting to make things more uncomfortable and elongate the silence, she quickly exclaimed: “Recreation time got cut back!”

Eddie paused, examining her face. He wasn’t stupid, and he was pretty good at picking up on social cues. Sensing her sudden response was most likely untruthful, a wave of sadness washed over him. Despite previously joking about y/n avoiding him, he couldn’t help but feel that there was some truth in his teasing. “Well, glad you were able to get some time to yourself today.” His tone was somber. He sheepishly smiled before turning his back to her, starting back towards his room.

She felt a dull pain in her chest. All she wanted was to catch up to him and embrace him in a tight hug. But she couldn’t. How would she explain her sudden outburst of affection? The last thing she wanted to do was drive him away with her sporadic emotions, yet somehow it felt like that was happening anyway.

Unbeknownst to y/n, Eddie was feeling quite isolated since the prior incident leading up to his hospitalization. Despite his friends being on his side providing support, he couldn’t help but feel that the entire town was against him. He was defeated thinking that he would most likely need to leave town in order to establish any new friendships, let alone any intimate relationships.

Those thoughts and feelings were briefly put to rest by his previous interactions with y/n. It was strange, Eddie wasn’t the type to feel flustered around people, given that he was typically the most rambunctious person in the room. But there was something about y/n that was different from everyone else he had previously encountered. He couldn’t put his finger on it; perhaps it was how unpredictable she was. With every conversation they had, Eddie could never anticipate what her next sentence would be. Even if it was the most random thing blurted out in a bashful way, he thought it was adorable and somewhat endearing. Eddie was intrigued by y/n and couldn’t believe he had never gotten to know her whilst they were in school together.

Eddie had been through quite a bit in his 21 years on this earth, and he liked to think that he had become accustomed to dealing with his problems and inner demons. His reputation prior to Chrissy’s death wasn’t pristine, but he could handle people giving him the side eye and gossiping about whether the Hell Fire club was a cult or not. These accusations were much different though. Despite Eddie never paying mind to people’s opinions of him, being seen as a murderer was quite jarring and hard to ignore; the idea of y/n thinking of him that way further weighing on him. If only they had established a friendship in school, maybe she could have seen him for who he truly is and not how the media was currently portraying him.

-

Y/n was frozen in place, watching Eddie walk away from her. She desperately wanted to say something to stop him but couldn’t find the right words. She was fighting an internal battle in her mind; was losing him due to miscommunications really better than being open?

“Eddie!” she blurted out.

He stopped in his tracks, turning to face her in one swift motion.

They both stared at each other for a few seconds before she continued. “I lied.”

‘Great start…’  she scolded herself.

Eddie was caught off guard by her sudden confession and a chuckle slipped out of him. “Uh, okay… About?” he inquired.

“We didn’t get our rec time cut short. I-… I don’t know why I said that…” she trailed off, pondering what to say next.

Eddie was focused, not breaking eye contact as he was taking in every word she was saying.

“Look, I know I’m not the most eloquently spoken person, so bare with me as I try to get this out.”

The next few phrases spewed out of her with complete disregard of how they would be perceived.

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve made a friend I care about so much and I got in my head. I didn’t want to push you away or ruin this somehow, so I figured it would just be easier for me to phase myself out of your life. Not that I thought I made an impact or anything. Shit. I’m sorry, I hope I’m not coming across narcissistic. I’m in no way insinuating that I’m a huge part of your life or-“

“Y/n…” Eddie began. He had gotten used to interrupting her mid-ramble; something she was very grateful for. “I am public enemy #1 right now, on top of already not being everyone’s cup of tea. The idea that you’d be the one to drive me away is comical.” He paused, smirking at her before continuing. “I understand where you’re coming from, but let’s clarify one thing;” he took a few steps towards her. “I’m in no position to cherry pick my friends, and from what I’ve seen, you seem alright.” He winked, a warm smile and a slight shade of pink spreading across his face.

‘Is he blushing right now?’ she thought, this further clouding her mind.

There was a pause, as Eddie waited for y/n to respond. She was processing what he had just said, along with attempting to compose herself. ‘Good god woman, get it together.’

He broke the silence the only way he knew how; with a cheeky rhetorical question: “So, you care about me?”

This effectively broke the awkward silence, a chuckle erupting from them both.

“Yeah yeah, whatever, you know this is exactly why I didn’t want to open up.” She said jokingly. “So… This is a new development.” She said, motioning to him standing before her.

“Yeah! Got to stretch out the old leg muscles for the first time in a couple weeks. Was kind of scared I would face plant to be honest.” He said while pretending his knees were buckling. Eddie was always one for theatrics.

“I’m glad you’re doing better.” She said, a smile forming on her face, cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, I’ve got to get back…I’ll see you later?” she asked, hopeful.

“For sure. Hey uh, maybe I can visit you for a change? Now that I’m mobile again.” He said with a giggle, gesturing to his legs “What room number are you?” he asked.

Oh crap. “Uh, I’m on the 3rd floor, but we’re not allowed visitors right now…” she trailed off, once again feeling immense guilt for somewhat bending the truth. But could she really blame herself? How was she to explain her reason for staying here without driving him away. “I’ll come back tomorrow, let’s meet here, yeah?”

“Works for me.” Eddie’s tone was slightly inquisitive, as he once again could tell that there was something y/n wasn’t being entirely honest about. He figured it was best to leave it for now, as she was already halfway out the door to the stairwell.

‘Tomorrow it is.’

_

Chapter 9

Let me know what you think & if you’re interested in being on my tag list ♡

Tag List: @motheraiya , @kik51199 , @munsontrash , @kaquaaqua , @munsonzzgfnzzgf , @haleighdriverriver , @thatlonelyalto , @ghoulsgraveyard , @braindelete , @sxpphicfxiry , @ladyapplejackdnd , @hellbaby237 , @grey-water-colors , @tubble-wubble , @moviefreak1205 , @piperd06 , @thegirlwhohides , @starryeyedkoko @thats-s0-ravenn , @piperd06 , @moviefreak1205 @tubble-wubble , @grey-water-colors , @xhorror-nerdx , @fandomsunited , @girlsvvish , @hellbaby237 , @eddieshands86

#eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things eddie #eddie munson fanfiic #fix it fic #stranger things s4 #angst #eddie munson series #fluff #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things netflix #slow burn fic #stranger things

[axailslink]

Death Promises

Get over it/ Part 1 Disclaimer: season four spoilers

Summary: Eddie has does and you can't seem to get over his death you know he's home but your mind just won't let you believe it you keep seeing him everywhere but of course, you're hallucinating right? RIGHT?

warning: Cursing, mentions of death

Disclaimer: season four spoilers

It has barely been a month since the gates were opened the team was practically expecting hell to happen but without the school of injured civilians and dying plants, everything seemed to be normal. It was nerve-wracking at this point just waiting for something to happen to waiting for Vecna to get his strength back to just hurt everyone again harder. It was stupid in your eyes waiting to be hit back twice as hard to see your next move it honestly did feel like a true DnD game session. You all needed some time to get over what happened it was terrifying in a way you've never seen. Of course, the kids had dealt with all types of crazy stuff that you had never seen but this one this lost was enough for you it took too much from you. That's how you and the group started to drift not much but no one came to your house to check on you except Dustin and that was the only kid you allow because he understood your loss. Shit, he was right beside you when Eddie died you both were crying fools that day he lost a best friend you lost a boyfriend. If you were being honest after a while you wanted nothing to do with them you blamed them for Eddie's death if he hadn't been caught up in all of their bullshit he would be alive probably selling weed to some junior like any other Friday afternoon. You didn't really blame them though you just needed someone to blame for a moment while you came to. It honestly hurt to see everyone else alive when he was the main person who deserved to live and have his name cleared. At least that's what you believe he was no damn murderer or satanist or ducking cult leader he had the biggest heart out of everyone you had ever met combined.

For your well being you pretty much shut everyone out, you didn't know how to handle his death so you didn't. Some days you acted like he was still around you still visited the bench in the woods you'd go by trailer only to be reminded that he isn't there. He isn't alive. In your defense, you thought you were a bit better this way believing or convincing yourself that he was alive. You weren't better this way though because doing this induced these crazy hallucinations you started seeing him. First just in the corner of your eyes but then people started looking like him you'd thought you saw his crazy hair or a glimpse of one of his tattoos maybe even heard him. You swore you were seeing him you saw him so much you told Dustin (you didn't want to bother him) you didn't know who else to speak up to only the kid that you knew would listen. He didn't think you were crazy shit he even hugged you and cried with you because he knew how this death took a toll on you it took a toll on him too. But after a while, you stopped telling him you could see it open an old wound for him too just because you can't get over Eddie's death didn't mean you had to drag others with you so you stopped telling him.

Eddies death was like a scab one where when it healed it itched you couldn't help but pick at it you couldn't let it completely heal because then it would be a small scar one that faded with time. A scar that would soon mean nothing.

You needed to get over him but how could you though? He meant so much to you he was one of the only people to care about you the way you cared about others he was the only person to truly understand you and the way you acted. Honestly, you felt ridiculous at the moment thinking so deeply about him. "He's gone you'll never see him again get over him he's dead" you mumble to yourself while sitting in your car parked in front of the Wheeler household. You had to hype yourself up to sit with the group again you couldn't go into there all emotional and ball up you couldn't let anyone see that. You had been sitting there for way too long you finally muster up the energy to smile and get out of the car put on the show of being happy and look like them. When you knock on the door Nancy answers and immediately she's surprised to see you that could be for two very good reasons the first being you hadn't left the comfort of your house since the whole thing went down or the other reason good hadn't quite been invited to the secret super meeting of killing Vecna when gets his strength back up. "Hey Y/n are you okay to be out?" you didn't have the energy to look at her but if you stayed cooped in your house or visited another that place reminded you of Eddie you would surely never get over it. You mustered up some of that fake energy and smiled "Hey Nance I have the energy of the dead please just let me in before I collapse" you gently push past her and sit on the couch across from Steve. No one was as interested in the conversation they were having before when you walked in all eyes were on you. You didn't look too well, especially to their eyes you hadn't bathed in about a week you just didn't have the energy your face was flushed not an ounce of color was there and you just overall looked weak. It was so transparent max could probably see it.

"IF WE'RE GOING TO KILL HIM WE'RE GOING TO NEED A SHIT TON OF FIRE"

No one tried to argue with you while you listened to the plan and pitched in on certain thoughts. You weren't going anywhere you refused to you don't want anyone else to die because of this psychotic fuck but you found it hard to pay attention when everyone kept glancing at your zone out. When the group finally decided to depart so that everyone could head home that's when it happened again.

You saw him or someone that looked like him standing far away behind the house while Nancy hugged you good bye and pactically begged you to take care of yourself when you parted from the hug and glanced up he had vanished. then once more in your rear view mirror while you were driving home but this time it didn't go away every time you looked back up you stared in that review mirror at the turned full head of dark brown hair in your back seat. five minutes into your drive home you stoppe the car to collect your thoughts becuase you were sure the pain pills you took for your ass- kicking headaches were making you drowsy that had to be it you weren't seeing Eddie alive... were you? you pull into the woods to that cute little wooden table you remember all too well. you rub your face and eyes trying to stop the hallucinations you must be having before looking out the window and eyes meet yours but they're dead and glowing bright red they hide no emotion behind them. you seriously needed to stop taking that over the counter shit. When you look back up those big dead eyes are still staring back at you those same ones you know all too damn well except they were full of running emotions especially when he died. "Get away from me leave me be you're leave me be you're dead..." you say in a whisper no longer trying to convice yourself more of just stating what you originally wished to believe.

you are so tired of this bullshit so tired of thinking of him tired of seeing him it wasn't right it wasn't fair. "He's dead you are not him you don't exist I'm just conjuring up things because I want you to exist I want you to be him but he's dead get over him you're seeing things" you continue to ramble to yourself causing tears to well up in your eyes. Recently it's been so easy for you to just burst into tears anytime and anywhere. you hit the steering wheel with so much force you were sure something must be broken it bruised your own hand. A clicking sound rings through the air and you turn to see the door unlock by itself through your blurred vision that was all you could see. Every ounce of sadness that had swelled in your heart turned to fear so fast it was unbelievable but that's what it was like these days everything scared the hell out of you. The car door had unlocked by itself while you were parked in the middle of the woods ALONE.

you didn't unlock the car door so what or who did?

With shaky hands, you lock the car door back before turning the key back into the ignition but it sputters "oh God no fucking hell this is straight out of the Halloween movie start up start up please love start up" it continues to sputter you glance up just for a second into the review mirror there those damn eyes are once again blood red and as bright as the car headlights. "Straight out of the Halloween movie" you pause every moment in your body pauses you feel your warm blood runs cold in your veins freezing like ice. you weren't scared anymore you were fucking terrified because how in all the seven realms were you hearing a dead man's voice right behind you?

"Eddie?"

I felt like an Eddie vampire fic needed to go ahead and be made it was about time my writing is not the best and not fast-paced so don't expect much (Also I apologize for any spelling errors this was kind of rushed)- Azail

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