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akazzzaa · 5 months

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A/N- I saw this on Pinterest and thought it was so cute so I wanna try and write about child! reader x demons (platonic obvs) Credit goes to the artist @lll_123_lll

Summary- Short story for each demon interacting with a human child- Kokushibo, Akaza, Douma, Hantengu, Gyokko, Daki

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None

Kokushibo

As Kokushibo walks through a peaceful village, he notices a small child playing with a wooden sword. Intrigued by the child's innocence, he decides to approach and kneels down to the child's level. The child stopped and looked at him wide eyed, '' Are you a samurai, mister?'' Kokushibo expression softened, ''Indeed, little one.''

The child jumped up in excitement, ''Wow, Can you show me some cool moves? Pretty please!?''

For a moment, Kokushibo, contemplates the request. Surprisingly, he decides to humour the child. With grace and precision, he performs a series of fluid sword movements, creating an intricate display of swordsmanship.

The child clapped in glee, '' That was amazing! Can I try too?''Kokushibo hands the child a small, wooden practice sword, showing them a basic stance. The child mimics his movements, albeit with less finesse. ''Excellent effort, young one... With dedication, you may become a skilled warrior.''

Douma

''Why do you have fangs? Are you a scary monster?"

Douma was taken aback but then chuckled softly, amused by the innocence of the child. "These fangs are a part of what I am, I need them to eat!''

The child, not completely satisfied with the answer, pointed to Douma's mouth and said, "Can I see them up close? I want to look!!''

Douma hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to allow the child to get so close. However, he had no ill intentions and decided to humour her curiosity. With a nod, he opened his mouth wide, revealing his sharp fangs. Unfazed by the intimidating sight, The child leaned in closer to inspect the fangs. She reached out tentatively and touched one of them with her small fingers.

"They're sharp," she observed with wide-eyed wonder.

Douma, surprised by the child's boldness, couldn't help but smile. "Indeed, they are. But remember, appearances can be deceiving. It's essential to look beyond what you see on the surface."

Akaza

The moment the girl spotted Akaza, her eyes widened with excitement. She approached him fearlessly, her curiosity overcoming any apprehension she might have had. "Wow! Your hair is so pink! It's like cherry blossoms! Can I touch it?" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious.

Akaza, taken aback by the girl's boldness, hesitated for a moment. Demons were not accustomed to such innocent interactions. However, something about the child's pure fascination touched a chord within him. "Uh, well, it's not something people usually ask," he replied, unsure of how to respond to such an unusual request.

The little girl beamed, undeterred by Akaza's initial uncertainty. "Please? I promise I won't pull it or anything. I just want to feel it! It looks so soft and pretty!"

Akaza couldn't help but crack a small smile at the girl's sincerity. Slowly, he nodded, allowing her to approach. Gently, she reached out and delicately ran her fingers through the strands of his pink hair. The texture surprised her, and a giggle escaped her lips. "It's softer than I imagined! Your hair is really nice, mister demon!"

Akaza found himself chuckling. Emboldened by the positive response, the girl continued to play with Akaza's hair, creating impromptu hairstyles and sharing her infectious laughter.

Hantengu (Main body)

The child's eyes fixated on the peculiar lump on Hantengu's head. "What's that big lump on your head?" she inquired, her concern evident in her voice.

Hantengu's faces displayed a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.'' I- I dont know, I've always had it! I'm not lying this time either!''

The child, being a compassionate soul, couldn't bear to see anyone in distress. Without a second thought, she took a step forward and planted a small, innocent kiss on the lump. Hantengu's face immediately transformed into expressions of surprise and gratitude.

"There, now it's better," The child said with a smile, her eyes sparkling with kindness.

Hantengu, touched by the child's pure heart, felt a warmth spreading through his body. "Thank you, little one. You possess a kindness that is rare even among humans."

Gyokko

Gyokko observed the child doodle in the dirt with a small stick, a display of untapped creativity. Intrigued, Gyokko decided to share his passion for painting with the young artist.

Gyokko teleported beside the child. In his hands, he conjured a set of vibrant paints and brushes, as if summoning colours from the very air. The child's eyes widened in amazement as Gyokko presented the tools of creation.

"Art is like the dance of a butterfly," Gyokko spoke, his voice gentle like a breeze. "Let the colors flow, and your heart guide the brush."

Gyokko dipped his brush into a pool of blue paint and began to demonstrate fluid strokes on a blank canvas. the child, fascinated, mimicked the motions with a mixture of excitement and concentration.

Gyokko and the child painted side by side, creating a masterpiece that mirrored the beauty of their newfound friendship.

In the quiet of the night, Gyokko spoke words of encouragement to the child. "Every stroke tells a story, and every colour holds an emotion. Let your imagination soar like a bird in the sky, young one."

Under Gyokko's guidance, the child discovered not only the art of painting but also the power of expression and self-discovery.

Daki

Daki's beauty was enhanced by the intricate layers of silk, vibrant colours, and elegant accessories. She moved through the crowd gracefully, her presence drawing both admiration and whispers. Unknown to her, a wide-eyed human had been trailing behind, mesmerized by the ethereal vision.

With her innocent curiosity, tugged on the hem of Daki's exquisite kimono, her eyes filled with admiration. Daki, though known for her short temper, couldn't help but soften at the sight of the little girl.

"Wow, you look so pretty!" The child exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with wonder.

Daki turned her attention to the child, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, little one. You seem to have an eye for beauty," she replied, her voice as silky as her attire.

Undeterred by the imposing aura of a demon, asked, "Can I look pretty like you too? I want to wear such beautiful clothes!"

Daki crouched down to the child eye level, her long, silky hair cascading around her. "Of course, you can, little one. Beauty is not just in the clothes we wear but in the kindness of our hearts.''

As Daki spoke, she noticed the simple charm bracelet on the child's wrist. She reached into the folds of her kimono and took a delicate flower hairpin. "Here, take this. It will make you look even more beautiful."

The child's eyes widened as she accepted the gift, a radiant smile spreading across her face. Daki, for a moment, found herself enchanted by the purity of the child's joy.

"Thank you, miss!" The child exclaimed, twirling around with newfound delight.

Daki watched as she skipped away, her heart touched by the innocence of a child who saw beyond the dangers of the world. As the festival continued, Daki couldn't help but feel a warmth in her heart, a reminder that beauty, in its truest form, transcends appearances and lies within the bonds that connect people.

A/N=Added Gyokko and Daki

#demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo x reader #hantengu x reader #akaza #douma #kokushibo #hantengu #gyokko #gyokko x reader #daki #daki x reader

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elkian · 5 months

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I've seen a lot of takes about the Hbomb video - here's a link; he's also done some similar works criticizing Allen Wakefield (accidentally instigated the prime anti-vax movement while trying to scam people) and Tommy Tallerico (similar vein to The Video, of plagiarism/credit theft).

I've also enjoyed some of his teardown videos, but my real favorites are his Why FNV Is Genius (and Here's Why) and Pathologic Is Genius (And Here's Why), which lead me to buying and playing (some of) Pathologic 2.

One thing worthy of note is that he specifically requests that nobody start a witch hunt over the subjects of his videos. He is an opinionated person and his righteous indignation is very entertaining, but I've never seen him seriously suggest people harass any real human beings. Suggestions to do so after watching the video have been made by the viewers and are explicitly condemned by Hbomb himself in the video. Just saying.

But more to the point is how he ends the video: he decides to cap it off with a reel of suggested viewing for people who create the kinds of things Somerton allegedly made himself, focusing on queer creators.

Here's the playlist linked in the video description:

I don't doubt other people have shared this already, but it hasn't crossed my dash, so I thought I'd give it a mention. It's a really nice way to end a video that, while focusing on informing the viewers and warning people of potential scammers essentially, does have a negative tone at times because he is, well, tearing into someone's monumental career of plagiarism.

The playlist links to videos by Alexander Avila (who was himself plagiarized by Somerton), Matt Baume, Lady Emily, verilybitchie, RickiHirsh, Shanspeare, Khadija Mbowe, hazel, Herby Revolus, Maggie Mae Fish, Kaz Rowe, Kat Blaque, Lily Alexandre, max teeth, drapetomania, Kameno -o, Lola Sebastian, Princess Weekers, CJ The X, Jennie Geist, Mia Mulder, Nick DiRamio, Sarah Z, Rowan Ellis, and finally Maven of the Eventide.

(I have chosen to spare my wrists and sanity by not hyperlinking those names because the playlist is literally right there.)

Fun facts: this list, which apparently also has nonbinary and trans artists on it, contains 0 names I am already familiar with. I don't spend a lot of time on Youtube outside of very specific needs, but this still makes for a good opportunity for me to familiarize myself with work from others in the community.

Anyways, I just think that's an extremely cool way to end a four-hour-video that, while extremely entertaining, is a bit of a down to watch and realize how easily extremely unmotivated people are stealing others' work and making bank off of it. That's all I had to say, goodnight.

#elk text #hbomberguy #i found him through the sherlock video that everyone was sharing a couple years ago #but that fnv video man #ive watched it enough times to memorize #comfort media

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toomanywatchers · 8 days

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My Thoughts on WatcherTV

Hi, I am here to put away my meme-making skills to express my genuine thoughts on Watcher’s announcement; WatcherTV. Before I get into it, this is for any of those at Team Watcher who might be seeing this message: Just know we love and support everything you do for us. Y’all truly do not get the credit you rightfully deserve. I hope with this change to a separate streaming platform you guys can create the content you want to make, pull in creators that you’ve always wanted to work with, and share voices/topics that may have not had the chance to shine because of YouTube’s heinous algorithm. I know myself, and many others, are excited to see what WatcherTV brings. For instance, I already watched Road Files and the trailer for Travel Season on the new platform. And guess what? I love it! I just love BTS-centric shows and seeing the vibes established on Travel Season. Along with more Lizzie/possibly-more-sightings-of-other-Team-Watcher-peeps content?!? If this is what holds for the future of WatcherTV- oh boy, do you already have me more on board than I already was.

I also send my sincerest regards too. We all know that the internet can be a negative space with many sharing their uncensored thoughts, and I hope none of you take the hate to heart. I also hope you can take the weekend to breathe, drink some water, spend time with loved ones, and celebrate this huge step you all are embarking on. I am truly excited to see what is to come on WatcherTV will be there with each step to support.

Now to my fellow fans of Watcher. I understand the concern and it is okay to have concerns. It shows that you truly care for Watcher as a company and don’t want anything negative to come about with this decision. BUT on the other hand, spreading hateful messages? Not. Fucking. Cool. It is quite simple to express concern in an appropriate/respectful manner. Remember, this is a company full of living and breathing human beings. Trying to justify “who is to blame” and pointing fingers is just childish. Guess what? No one is to blame, it was a company-wide decision that they all made and spent months upon months to create.

Yes, it does suck to see content that was free for years be moved to a paywall, but remember they are independent artists that have to pay employees, freelancers, locations, and themselves! Have we not been advocating for fair pay among creative individuals when it comes to WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes and then AI art taking jobs away from artists? If this is what the company needs to do to survive while not sacrificing the high-quality content they make for us, then we should give it a shot! Plus with the current discount available, the subscription is not that pricey for the amount of shows they produce! Literally for January and a bit of February, they were uploading 2 podcasts and 2 separate shows… that’s a lot of content! If you have never sat down to produce, direct, write, perform, edit, and all other aspects it takes to make a fine-polished YouTube video, it takes a lot of work!

To add to this, Watcher already makes content that far expands past what is recognized as normal for YouTube. They build individual sets for each show that is produced, and they travel all over the place for Ghost Files and soon-to-be Travel Season. It costs money to produce content and YouTube?- It’s just not how it was years and years ago. Views on long-form content have been dipping and with the over-saturation of sponsorships, I am assuming they are not making enough profit to sustain the business on the current platform. Also, monetization on YouTube has been a killer for many channels because of vulgar language issues and just being demonetized for no rhyme or reason. By moving over to a streaming platform of their own they can continue to create what they want to create, and make it without any restrictions or rules holding them back. Too pricey? Find some friends who also like the content and split the pricing evenly. Only want to watch certain shows? Then make a monthly subscription for the time that show airs. There are many solutions that you guys see as a huge problem, and don’t get me wrong I have my concerns. I shared those concerns briefly in my theory post about them still being a young channel, but I’m also unaware of the actual analytics and revenue that is currently being brought in currently to the company from YouTube alone.

It’s a huge step that has garnered negative feedback from those spreading hateful messages about the company and to other individuals for supporting the boys *cough cough I see your messages and comments cough cough* is truly uncalled for. I will be taking a bit of a break from my socials as I wait out the storm though if I have the energy, I might stream on Twitch again and talk through this with y’all if you can sit down and have a civil discussion. As for now, it’s your choice if you continue to support. My goal is to continue to make funny little memes, and if I am allowed to I will be working on a crack video pt.2 after Travel Season premieres. Remember to be kind and to put yourselves in their shows. Just the boys even though they are receiving the brunt of the hate, but for everyone at the company.

Your local memester watcherina - Fritz.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #ryan bergara #shane madej #steven lim #watcher tv #my thoughts

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smellystars · 1 month

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Trailblazing

Credit: @theleomarspt2

“He looks so perfect” I thought to myself as I looked at him

Sebastian and I have become incredibly close over the time I started working in the chemistry department. I was just an undergrad trying to get some experience under my belt and maybe make some money on the side. Sebastian, on the other hand, was a pretty well-rounded PhD student. He was making a good living with his research and teaching, and was pretty well liked within the faculty. And yet, somehow, he decided to ask me out. Of all people that fawned over him this confident stud decided to ask me if I would be down to go on a hike with him.

“how you feelin’?” He asked, the sweat making his biceps glisten.

“Good…” I said, the puffing in my breath betraying and showing how out of shape I truly am.

“Haha wanna rest for a bit?”

I sighed, threw my bag on the ground and proceeded to simply drop onto the floor. After catching my breath and taking a swig of water I took a second to look at the scenery. It was gorgeous, we were not too far from a small stream with a very slow flow.

“Hey, you want to see something cool?” Sebastian asks.

“Sure” I answered. Sebestian’s face lights up with glee as he starts to move towards the stream. Reaching the stream he squats, the water grazing his cheeks. “Ready” he asks with a smile. “Yea……” before I could even finish the word an ear ringing sound exploded from Sebastian.

PPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHRRBBBBBBBTTTTTT

The once slowly moving stream began to fill with bubbles, Sebastian creating his own personal hot tub. Thou a bit away I could feel the vibration of his gas causing small pebbles and stones to jump around. I watched as the stream began to shrink slowly drying out with his minute long quake. The stream now nothing but a barren ditch, no water to be found.

“Did you see that? Impressive right?” Sebastian asked with a hearty smile. I stood up, amazed at what I had just witnessed. “Wow, I’ve never witnessed something like that.” I said. “How can such a hot guy rip ass that strong”, is all I thought to myself as I watch Sebastian flex in the dried stream. He takes a step out raises a leg and let’s rip another loud but shorter fart.

FFFFFFFRRRRRRPPTTT

“Sorry when the gate opens it’s hard to close.”

“Seb how is that possible?”

The proud smirk morphed into a puzzled face at first, but his confidence came back as he smiled.

“You got a superhuman boyfriend, promise I will keep you safe though” He said, with the charming deep voice I was so in love with.

We continued to walk for about 20 minutes, talking about the chemistry department and what each of us were doing in our program. As we walked, Sebastian was ripping burps and farts throughout but seemingly holding back. I am not sure if I should be thankful or not. On the one hand I am in love with how manly he is, his huge biceps, his dark beard, to have a man capable of such destruction was quite a dream when I think about it. And yet, in reality, it was intimidating to think that one fart from him was capable of dying up a creek. Would we be able to share a living space? What if one night he farted strongly enough it shattered the windows? What if nightly the bedsheets flew away from his farts? I guess I was lost in my thoughts and wandered ahead a little bit.

Fffffffffffffaaaaaaaauuuuuuurrrrrppppppppptttttttttt

A loud fart took me out of my trance. I turned to see Sebastian bending over few feet behind me. Though the I turned around within the first few seconds of the fart, Sebastian seemed to want to make it a point how strong he was as he let the fart rip for a little over forty seconds. As the fart went on the leaves behind him were blown, and the pungent smell, something akin to spoiled beans, seemed to envelope us, some birds even beginning to fly away to escape.

“Now don’t go leaving me behind again” He warned with a sweet smile, as he trotted to catch up to me.

He took my hand and said “Hey, I have a little surprise for you. There’s a clearing a bit off the path ahead, we are so close let’s go”.

We walked over about two hundred feet till we reached the clearing. He let go of my hand, threw his backpack on the ground and kneeled. He took a picnic blanket out of his backpack, a couple of beers and he sat down with his muscular legs extended.

“Come on” he said “the ground is comfy I promise”

I followed his lead and laid next to him, he passed me a beer. We started drinking and talking, he would start burping after every swing too, and I think he noticed how excited it got me cause they only started getting louder.

“So…. what’s the surprise?” I asked

“Two in one deal actually” And saying that, he raised his knee to his chest and winked.

PPBBBBPBRRRRBBBTT

“For one I wanna give you a little test you see” He said as his fart made the blanket flutter and the ground shake enough for me to feel it. He proceeds to lead to his left, his round ass facing me now.

BBRPBPBRRBAAPPRTT

“You see you caught my eye since I first saw you walk into the chem department” His fart was strong enough to push back my hair. The smell hit me instantly and I started coughing.

PPPBBPBPBPPB

“I mean look at you pretty boy, you got an angelic face and a cute slender body” Though shorter, this fart packed a punch, enough that it pushed me back a bit. I could also see a cloud of dust and leaves forming as the winds kicked them off the ground. I ended up lying face up, eyes closed at first, but when I opened them I saw Sebastian standing over me. He squats, crotch to bring his face close to mine, a grin drawing across his face.

PPMPMPRRTT

“And I know you like me too, have watched how you watch me” He said flexing. It felt as though I was laying right next to a radiator. “But pretty boys like you can’t handle dating a human with superfarts” He said “You though, you are holding just fine”.

FFPBRRHHTT

He let out one last fart before he stood back up and extended a hand out to me. Coughing, I took it and proceeded to stand up with shaking legs.

“Well you passed your surprise test, and with extra credit too” Said Sebastian as he pointed to my crotch, which betrayed me as it showed my excitement. “So it’s time for your second surprise”. He grabbed my hands into his and looked me in the eyes.

“Know you know what my farts can do….. You still want to go out with me?”

I took a deep breath, his still lingering gas burning my lungs. Through the coughing fit and red eyes I gave my answer.

“Yes. Your volume of gas will take some getting used to but why would I ever give up this opportunity.”

Sebastian brimming with joy, says on thing, “to commemorate this occasion I’ll show you something extra special.” He takes a few steps away and lays on his stomach arching his back, his butt aiming towards to sky.

“I don’t want any clouds, ruining our first pic together.” And with that the loudest and strongest fart I ever experienced erupted out of Sebastian. The trees closest to us bend either their leaves getting ripped off the branches blown in his foul winds. Animals the vacuity scattering from fear of being enveloped by the stink cloud. A force so strong that trees a mile sway from his winds. I look up to see the few clouds in the sky swirly break apart and dissipate into the atmosphere.

Sebastian gets up with a sigh of relief, “ahh, okay let’s take a picture.”

I walk towards him my eyes beginning watering, I steel myself accepting that this is going to be my life from now on. A smile forming on my face. I reach Sebastian and hug him taking a picture in-front of the clear sky.

“I couldn’t be happier”

#male farts #hyperfarts #malehyperfarts #fart story

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luxaofhesperides · 2 months

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Listen. I love the dcxdp crossover. It’s a lot of fun! There’s so much that can be done for this crossover, with all the characters and settings and the many plots that can spring up from them. But as much as I love writing for it and sharing my fics with the community, there’s been a significant uptick in things that are rubbing me the wrong way. Some of these things have to do with canon vs fanon, but others are more about the shifting culture of the community.

(keep in mind that I only see things on Tumblr and am not in any discords, so my experience will be different from others bc I have a more limited experience with the wider community)

(putting it all under a read more bc its long)

Let’s start off with a look at what we’re doing as a group:

Building off of completed fics on tumblr: I always thought the etiquette is to not build off of a completed work without permission. Someone had an idea and executed it, then shared it with us. It should end there. If you want to add to it, contact the author first and see if it’s something they’re fine with; some will say no, some will say yes, some will say yes but be sure to credit them for the original fic. A lot of what I’m seeing is a completed fic gets added on to in a way that completely takes it away from the original idea. Having experienced this myself (on a requested prompt from someone else, no less), I found it kind of rude. Maybe it’s just me, but a completed fic is not a prompt request or something open for building up another story around. It’s already completed. Leave the story as is and let the author know you liked it.

Expecting others to write for you: the prompts are what build this crossover fandom, in my eyes. Prompts are posted and people create something around them, either as a group by adding onto what other people are saying, or as individual fics that one person wrote. Now I’m seeing people throw out prompts that are basically fic outlines, then begging others to write something for it. Like, those prompts are already written! They have very specific details! Why not write it yourself? You’re already halfway there, you can just write the thing you want to see and post it. It’s not about being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ at writing, it’s about crafting an idea to share to the world. Why ask others to write it for you when you’ve already practically done it?

But also, you are not owed fic. This might just be general fandom burn out talking, but being a fic author who has been treated like a machine? It sucks. I love writing, but I share what I write because what I wrote made me happy and I wanted to share that with others. I’m not a content creating machine who has to pump out fic after fic for other people’s entertainment. I just want to share what I love and having people pop up in my notifs only going “write more/tag me/sequel?/etc” is tiring. I get that it’s coming from a place of love bc you liked the fic enough to want to see more, but please actually talk about what I’ve already written instead of going “update? More? MORE????”

Hostility to DC canon: I get that DC canon is a mess, but it still is a canon and has a lot of cool stuff! I’m seeing a lot of posts recently about how dpxdc people refuse to engage with the comics, and I need to let yall know that this is not a new thing. DC fans also refuse to engage with the comics (it’s mostly batfam) and it’s very easy to tell who has and who hasnt ready batfam related stuff bc the fanon is incredibly wrong about characterisation and what happened in comics. But that’s for a different post.

I’m seeing both sides of the argument (this is for fun, reading comics isn’t required, don’t like don’t read vs it’s tiring seeing people butcher my favorite characters into ocs with their name/face, I want to share my love for comics but there’s so much pushback, it shouldn’t be weird to expect people engaging with a media to have actually engaged with that media). And I think you should engage with comics! DP is a unique case in which fanon is for the most part better and more interesting than the original show (also death to the author/butch hartman), but DC comics shouldn’t be engaged with in that way. If you like the characters you see in dpxdc, you should read about them in comics! The whole point of a fandom is that you’re a fan of the original media. That’s why you’re engaging with it in this way, writing within the world and characters and canon.

I don’t know how people write for fandoms when they’re not familiar with the source material. I wanted to write dcxdp so I started rewatching DP. I’m reading comics. I want to know the characters and their stories so I can have a foundation to write from, and also to better understand the media so I can share my love for it. The refusal to engage with source material while engaging with its fandom is so strange to me.

Also dc fans who love the comics are great! In my experience, they’re very kind and willing to help you jump into comics! Don’t know where to start? Pick a character or team and follow them! Want a reading guide? We’ve got TONS. want thoughts on a specific character or comic run? Just ask!

Now to more specific points about what I’m seeing in dcxdp works:

Mischaracterized batfam: this is a group of people who are disasters and have complicated relationships with each other. They’re kind, wonderful people who bring out the best and worst in each other. Why is Batman always adopting people. Why is this a running joke with the batfam. I get it being a joke the first few times, but I’ve seen it so often and done like it’s accurate characterization that I just. I can’t. I leave that fic immediately. I can’t do it anymore. Batman is paranoid and tried very hard to keep kids away from him/away from being a vigilante. Unfortunately all the kids he got are stubborn and smart so he was doomed from the beginning.

Superman and Kon: you guys are pretty much only pulling from Young Justice Animated which I think is a terrible adaptation, but that’s my own taste. But seriously. Clark is kind. That’s an important part of his character! He’s the strongest man in the world and he’s kind. He was also dead when Kon first appeared as a experiment from CADMUS in Hawaii. They’re not father-son, but they are family and they do care for each other, once they get to know each other. Also Kon is not an angry broody boy, he’s funny! And annoying! pls read kon comics guys, i promise youll like his actual character

Chronos??? Guys. Chronos is not a god in DC canon. He is in Greek mythology, but in DC he’s a Captain Atom villain and he’s literally just a guy who got obsessed with having perfect timing. He’s themed around clocks. He has nothing to do with time travel or time gods. The Speedforce is Time, basically, and it is not human. It is an eldritch being beyond our comprehension that can eat people. If it chooses to have a human form, it’s going to choose to look like Bart. Please read Flash stuff, it’s interesting!

Lazarus Pit Madness lasts like 5 minutes in canon. Jason having it, and being affected by it for years, is a purely fanon thing from the dc side. Not going to say anything more on this because it goes into Jason Todd discourse.

Repetition: I’m sorry but I’m tired of seeing the same things over and over. I barely see anything out of the dcxdp tags thats new and fun to engage with. Everything is the same variation of “Danny helps Pit Mad Jason”, “Bruce insta-adopts Danny”, “Superman is mean to clones”, etc etc. Think of any popular dcxdp trope and that’s all you’ll see. I get why these are fun and popular, but the way it’s being engaged with now? It literally makes me exit Tumblr and put my phone down.

Not every prompt has to go down the same routes as the other prompts. Please explore more options, branch out, twist those tropes around to do something new with them. And also stop going onto other people’s fics and saying “what about [dcxdp trope]? Cant wait to see [dcxdp trope]! You should have [dcxdp] trope.” If I didn’t include it, it’s not included for a reason. There are hundreds of other fics that write specifically about those exact tropes. Read those, or write your own. (im being super bitter here but please just let me write what i want to write without trying to pull the story into another direction for a trope you like. Im writing for me, but sharing it for you. Not every fic needs those tropes in them.)

Tumblr specific things: this is less about the content and more about general posting etiquette. Please put long posts under a read more. If it’s more then three paragraphs, consider adding a read more if there is significantly MORE than three paragraphs. Tag appropriately. Content warnings and trigger warnings should be at the very top of the post and in the tags so they can be properly blocked. If you’re posting fic/prompt, please double check your spelling and fix any typos you find because posts that are filled with excessive typos are difficult to read.

There’s probably a lot more to talk about, but just getting this much out is tiring and, frankly, I don’t want to think on it any more today. If you reply/add comments, I won’t get to them in a while bc I will be writing ghostlights and yhk fic to lift my mood :)

#rambles #dpxdc #dc x dp #tentatively tagged for cataloging and blocking purposes #i will probably make more coherent posts later abt the individual things in here so if u want a discussion wait for those #just so its easy to keep track of what we're talking abt

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 2 months

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important announcement i've been waiting for so long to talk about alert

my name is unit 4402 but my friends call me 4402. i don't like to take my tactical gear off but you can recognize me as the writing director of KRONOPRISM, a non-profit game studio creating fan games for NIJISANJI EN.

in other words.

AN INCREDIBLY TALENTED GAME STUDIO AND I ARE LAUNCHING A HUGE HUGE HUGE PROJECT.

you can follow kronoprism on twitter and on instagram!!!

this is one half of our main visual with artist credits here. where are the other two? gotta follow to find out soon. you'll even be the first to get updated.

a million and one thanks to everyone for being patient with me while i've been keeping this project secret. and of course, a billion and two thanks to everyone on the kronoprism team. they've all been a delight to work with and i'm honored to say that i am one of them.

making a game has always felt like a far-off dream for as long as i can remember. anything is possible. working on this project has been one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life and i've learned more that i ever thought possible through it. being able to see this project grow from the ground up into something tangible has been incredible to say the least.

i have a lot of love for everyone involved in this project, and i cannot wait to share it with everyone in the community soon. thank you to everyone who has given me even a second of their time; without your support i never would have made it this far into something that's given me so much joy already.

please consider following kronoprism's official accounts on twitter and instagram for updates!

#ike eveland #vox akuma #luca kaneshiro #shu yamino #luxiem #nijisanji #ike eveland x reader #vox akuma x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #shu yamino x reader #luxiem x reader #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji en #kronoprism

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bradshawssugarbaby · 3 months

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Could you do, "They told me you left." With captain syverson, please? ❤️

of course babe! xo

You heard a deep, gruff sounding Southern accent drawl out your name, causing you to spin around on your heels, turning to face the man the voice belonged to. You raised an eyebrow upon realizing it was Luke Syverson, the last person you ever expected to see here. "They told me you left. Yesterday morning, actually," you said softly, your eyes fixated on him, committing his face to memory in case this impromptu reunion is the last of its kind. "I did, sort of," Luke nodded, taking his sunglasses off and resting them atop his head. He looked around outside, frowning as he noticed the expression on your face, "I figured you'd be happy to see me though." "I would be under any normal circumstances, but the fact that you're not on the plane to Iraq right now tells me either something is wrong, or you didn't get medical clearance to go back over." "Something is wrong, I'll give ya that much." "Care on sharing it with the rest of the class, Luke? Or just gonna keep it to yourself and let me guess?" Luke's lips curled up into a mischievous grin. He shook his head with laughter as he looked at you, his blue eyes meeting your gaze for a split second before breaking contact. He shrugged his large, burly shoulders before continuing. "I mean, it's not like anyone's gonna die over it serious. Just...I needed to tell ya something." "I'm listening." "Look, Sugar, I like you. I don't tend to like too many people, I'm sure everyone's told ya. But, I like you. I don't go handin' out nicknames to just anyone. I've been callin' ya Sugar for months now. Don't ya think that means somethin'?" "It means you like me enough to give me a pet name, so what? My best friend and I call each other "babe" all the time." Luke let out a frustrated, strangled sounding groan as he shook his head again. He held out his large hands in front of him, gesturing for you to stop for a moment so he could recollect his thoughts. "Let me try again, ok? I like ya, Sugar. I want to see where things go for us. I managed to extend my leave by a few weeks. I'm not needed over there just yet, and when I found out, the first thing I wanted to do was see ya, see that pretty lil' face of yours and hold ya close, that kinda thing. That's not how I normally am with people, you know?" "Luke, are you trying to ask me out?" "Trying and not succeeding, yeah." "Yes." "Yes?" Luke raised an eyebrow in confusion, "Sugar, I'm not following ya." "Yes, I'll go out with you, Luke," you said with a laugh, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck, gently pulling him down for a kiss. Luke wrapped his strong arms around you tightly, his lips finding yours in a hungry, passionate kiss. His beard tickled your lip as your tongues became entangled with one another, the fiery heat between the two of you burning brighter and hotter with every passing second. You'd been wanting this, longing for it and dreaming of it for weeks since you were introduced to him by a mutual friend at a barbecue earlier this summer.

Luke had come home on leave, and not having a family to come home to, his high school best friend, who had married your own best friend while Luke was deployed overseas, had invited the two of you over for dinner one night. Drinks were shared, stories told, and sparks flew instantly. Luke, to his credit, had been nervous about starting anything with someone, unsure how long of a stay stateside he'd get to have before being called back. However, the chemistry between you both was too much for anyone to deny. You'd let him go, not wanting to create issues for him while he was away, but knowing that you'd spend every day waiting for a friendly teasing email from him, signed off with a flirty little salutation at the end. Now, however, Luke was yours. You had a few weeks to prepare yourself before seeing him off, but, you knew that you'd savour every moment together - making it impossible this time for either of you to leave without needing to say goodbye.

#captain syverson #capt. syverson #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x you #capt. syverson x you #capt. syverson x reader #henry cavill characters

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iridescentpull · 10 months

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Letter from Anthony to Ian (August 24, 2017)

**NOTE: There might be a few spelling mistakes so I apologize! This is a transcript of Anthony's letter put together for your reading!**

------------

Ian,

Hello old time friend. I have a lot to say to you that has remained unsaid for many years.

First, I want to thank you for being such a great friend to me in my very fragile teenage years. I came from a broken home with very little money and no means to explore the world outside of suburban Carmichael. You introduced me to your loving family, who welcomed me and loved me with open arms. They helped me travel and showed me a way of life that I hadn't been exposed to. You personally were supportive and overall were a very good friend to me who I felt could share anything with.

I'm not sure why, but something changed. I feel our best friendship ended around 2009, and a resentment started growing between us. I started feeling a judgment in the tone of your voice. A sense of hostility in your actions. Did I do something that upset you? Did I treat you poorly? Did I make you feel insignificant- downplay the importance you had in our company and imply you were not as responsible for our success as me?

I know I struggle with many things, and I'm so sorry if i ever put you through emotional turmoil in order to fulfill my own quota of self-importance. I always wanted everything I made to be just that- something I "made" with your help. I considered smosh to be something you only tagged along for, and I'm deeply sorry if I ever made you feel like you didn't deserve as much credit as me. You may not have done some of the heavy lifting I did in the early days, but definitely encouraged us to keep going and you kept things light and full of laughs as we did it. We accomplished so much and I am now just realizing how important you were in making that happen.

I have so many things I have treated that I regret and so many things I wish I could apologize to you for doing- I really wish you would give me a chance to speak with you. There are also so many things I wish you would explain to me.

Why have you consistently made me feel ashamed to be myself in front of you for so many years? The time I asked you what you thought about my shoes when we were seventeen and you told me you thought they were hideous- and I could tell you only said it to hurt my feelings. The time you talked shit behind my back on facebook to the girl we were friends with that I introduced you to. The amount of things you said behind my back to our high school friends about me and my relationship. The snide remarks you made about me being vegan. The times you made me feel stupid for making any content whatsoever that was not directly smosh-related. The snide remarks about anything I made that put my true emotions out there for the world. I just wished you were better at communicating.

I know I'm not any better but i feel like i tried with you. I tried to break out of my comfort zone and talk about things that made me feel uncomfortable. When we were in New York for our "Ghostmates" tour we got drinks and I opened up about how embarrassed I was that my previous relationship was so obviously bad to the outside world and how naive I was to think I would actually marry someone like that. I was vulnerable and breaking down all my walls in hopes you'd return the favor. But nothing. The conversation was once again one-sided.

Am I just horrible to open up to you? Have I made you feel uncomfortable to open up around me? Have I made you feel all the ways you've made me feel? Are the ways you treat me nothing but an echo of how I treat you? Am I the one at fault here? Did I create a problem that went way further than the point of no return? Is this all because of me?

PERHAPS.

But I don't think there is a point of no return for friendships as deep as ours was. I am reaching out to you as an ex-best friend. I want to talk about things and lay them all out there so we can possibly mend things. And if we don't become friends again, at least we can say we tried. But why avoid trying all together?

What are you afraid of? I know I've been callous in the past, but please give me a chance. I've changed and I'm now a more understanding person. All I ask for you is for you to stop being a fucking asshole. Just kidding. I had to say it. I just want you to treat me with respect again.

After everything I've observed in the past few years, I'm starting to truly believe you may not be a good person anymore. Do I even want to know the bitter, grumpy, vengeful person you've become? Is it better that I keep my distance to ensure I don't get even more hurt by you in the future?

I feel like you've become the bully. You are so upset by so many things but you keep it all to yourself. No one knows what's really going on inside your head, but you take the easiest route and put a fake smile on and walk around like you have a life to envy, but deep down inside you're hurting. There's more going on than you even know, All things that slowly come bubbling up to the surface through your skin, they boil under the surface and fester until they finally burst with a shitty loaded comment or a passive aggressive outburst.

I feel like I haven't known the real you for so many years. Does anyone know the real you?

Do you know the real you?

#smosh #ianthony #ian hecox #anthony padilla #☀️🔎#screaming crying throwing myself against a wall

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jeonstellate · 9 months

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in the dark: dusk

you ask the moon for an impossible before your inevitable marriage to an utter stranger.

๑彡 hong jisoo x afab!reader

๑彡 strangers-to-lovers!au, arranged marriage!au — angst(?), fluff

๑彡 paragraph format — 1.8K words

masterlist | in the dark: dawn

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from bobby’s in the dark.

๑彡 this is the first half of the two-shot, in the dark. you can find the link to the next part above :]

You had always known your marriage would be arranged by your parents. In a time where marriages were used as a form alliance between clans rather than a form of union between lovers, you never dared to hope that your marriage would be bound by love.

However, that particular knowledge didn’t prevent you from craving to experience how genuine romantic love feels like.

Hence your decision to sit by a tree just behind your village long after the sun had set. You weren’t waiting for a miracle, but you’d be lying if you say you weren’t hoping for one.

Under the pale moonlight, the cloak of darkness concealed the tears that the sun could not shine upon. Under the pale moonlight, you wordlessly wish for something that can never be.

But never did you expect for the moon to answer.

"May I know the reason for your tears, my lady?" A voice, soft and careful, suddenly filled the silence of the night. Although its appearance was unexpected, it miraculously didn’t startle you — as though, somehow, you had known.

You kept facing the moon as you answer, almost as if you were conversing with her rather than whoever just arrived. "Just trivial matters."

"Perhaps so, but you obviously care about it a great deal." The presence behind you felt closer, but still remained at a respectable distance.

"But I shouldn’t," you sighed. "There are dangers in dwelling on matters that are out of my control."

"But there are also dangers in bottling your feelings in, my lady," the person gently reminded you.

Silence then engulfed the two of you — which felt comfortable despite not knowing who exactly you were conversing with. The voiced words settled between the two of you, gradually creating something that could either build or destroy any relation that might form.

"I don’t know if I should trust you with my thoughts," you thoughtfully said after a while. "I don’t know who you are."

Your companion hummed in acknowledgment, "You can think of me as a shadow, if you wish."

"Why so?"

"You cannot confirm my existence until you look at me."

You started laughing. "I can very well just turn and confirm it promptly, my lord."

"Respectfully, my lady, but I advice against it," he replied almost immediately. "Please take comfort in knowing I am a stranger that cannot judge you based on anything you do not personally share — as I will with you."

You thought his advice through. Although you were concerned about revealing too much to an utter stranger, you couldn’t deny that he had a point. You live in a small village, after all — one way or another, everyone always hear about one family’s business and discuss them freely like it’s their own.

Every family in your village has their own reputation — which ultimately decides the esteem people regard each family with. If he doesn’t know how you look like, nor what your name is, then he can’t judge you based on the reputation of your family — nor can you have the fear of tainting your family’s reputation with each information you choose to disclose.

"Perhaps you are right," you agreed after a few moments of silence. "Though I do think you should just address me as Night from here on forward."

"Wonderful. Then, you can call me Suho."

You and Suho continued conversing the night away. Although he eventually chose to situate himself near you (after asking for consent), neither of you faced each other. You remained facing the sky, with your left arm millimeters away from the tree trunk and your back facing your village. Him, on the other hand, had his back against the tree trunk, his body facing your village, with his left arm inches away from yours.

"So what brings you in the dark like this?" Suho started the conversation after having enough of the silence.

"I wanted to make a wish to the moon," you replied eventually after pondering upon how you should indulge his inquiry.

"You must’ve wished so earnestly that tears spilled down your cheeks."

His comment earned an almost soundless chuckle from you. "On the contrary," you started, "those were desperate tears from wishing the impossible."

"I’m afraid I don’t follow, my lady," you heard him shift his position, but the sound of his voice remained in the same distance.

"My parents have found me someone to marry," you said slowly as you thought about whether or not saying so would give away your identity, "but I wanted to experience having a lover first before I’m bounded to someone I have yet to meet."

Suho, in contrast to your obvious hesitancy, was quick to react. "I can be your lover, my lady, if you will allow me."

"I beg your pardon?" You stuttered in disbelief. "You shouldn’t utter words you don’t mean, my lord."

"I do mean them," he quickly insisted.

"How can you?" You expressed your doubt, "Surely there must already be a lady waiting for you back home?"

"I assure you, my lady, you shall be my only one."

You couldn’t reply right away — not because you were thinking his reply over, but because his response made you flustered. "Then, I suppose you would not mind courting me?"

Just like he had been doing throughout the night, Suho’s response came almost immediately. "I would court you as long as you wish."

You and Suho continued to meet with the moon being your only witness. During those nights, you would converse about anything your hearts desired. Slowly, but surely, then, you both learned parts of what composed each other’s constellations.

True to his word, Suho did court you every night that you met. He would alternate between telling you compliments, giving you flowers, writing you some poetry, or a combination of acts.

In return, to show your appreciation, you reciprocated his efforts in ways you knew how.

"Yes," you agreed out of the blue on the night of a full moon.

"Pardon?"

"Yes," you repeated, "I am now accepting you as my beau."

You and Suho had an agreement, beginning that first night when your peculiar arrangement was made. You both agreed, under no circumstances, would you try to catch a glimpse of each other’s faces. Thus, whenever you two met, you both ensured that you two were positioned in such a way that no one wouldn’t see the other’s face.

And somehow, you two still found a way to bask in each other’s warmth without breaking your agreement. "Thank you," you heard him murmur by your ear. "Thank you for trusting me."

You shook your head in denial, a smile ghosting your lips. "Thank you for coming into my life."

The word ‘bliss’ wouldn’t be enough to describe how you felt the following nights. Suho had always been sweet, but he became even sweeter after he became your beau.

Like he had already done, Suho had brought you flowers, written you poetry, and showered you with words of affirmation. On top of all of those, he occasionally brought you handmade gifts as well.

Despite already being your significant other, Suho still went out of his way to court you — even after you told him that he could stop. He claimed that it made him happy, as it never failed to make you happy, so you just let him do what he pleased.

"Have you ever thought about children?" You asked Suho one night as you lie on his chest, facing the moon.

Even with your improved status, you and Suho came to a consensus that you should uphold your previous agreement of keeping your true identities a secret from one another. Especially with your deepening relationship, it was crucial not to display any awkwardness nor unusual behavior if ever you two meet under the sun — to keep the eagle-eyed gossipers of your village from talking.

"Well, I am now," he answered before resting his hand on your hip, by your stomach. "Why?"

You two often talked about whatever came to mind, especially if you had finished filling each other about any shareable events that happened during the day. Albeit you both had nothing against silence, you liked to spend your limited time getting to know each other instead.

"As I look into the sky, I suddenly remembered how I took inspiration from it when I was unentertained enough to think of baby names."

You heard Suho let out an intrigued sound, "Let’s hear them, then."

"Hyewol for a girl, Hyeseong for a boy," you answered nonchalantly. "I also thought Chaewol, Seonghwa, and Haneul could be good to use as well."

Suho started murmuring to himself. Despite your proximity, you still couldn’t quite catch the entirety of what he was saying. However, you could’ve sworn that you heard the names you just mentioned being mixed in.

"What are you—?"

"Just testing how the names sound with my last name," he replied as nonchalant as you were then. However, with such simple words, you couldn’t help but to feel your cheeks flush. "So, five kids?"

"I," you stopped, suddenly not trusting yourself to speak. Nevertheless, after a moment, you managed to collect yourself. "Only if it’s with you."

You both knew, with your looming engagement, that that was a future out of your reach. It was a someday that could only exist under the cloak of the moon’s light, never to be touched by the sun’s rays.

And yet, despite that, you and Suho still dared to dream.

You knew this day would come, even before you crossed paths with Suho. In retrospect, this day was literally the reason why you met Suho in the first place. Had you not been crying that pivotal night about this particular day, you probably wouldn’t have him by your side at all.

Unfortunately, even your set up with Suho did nothing for the dreaded day.

"[First name], dear, come here for a minute," your mother called you over from your little corner with your cousins.

Today was her birthday and, to celebrate, she held a banquet in her honor — only inviting those that she truly got along with to keep the event drama-free. Not even her side of the family was in complete attendance, as some — if not most — of them clashed with one another over trivial matters.

It was your mother’s day, so you never thought it would double as the day you finally met your fiancé.

"[First name], this is Joshua," you mother started with an abnormally large smile etched on her face, "your fiancé."

You tried not to visibly freeze. As much as Suho was supposed to assist you to get ready for your married life, you weren’t ready to meet the person you were expected to spend the rest of your life with. Especially not when you already began wishing that your husband-to-be was Suho instead.

Joshua reached for your hand and kissed the back. "It’s my pleasure to be your acquaintance, my lady. I am Joshua Hong."

#hong jisoo x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen x reader #hong jisoo imagines #joshua imagines #seventeen imagines #hong jisoo scenarios #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #hong jisoo oneshots #joshua oneshots #seventeen oneshots #strangers-to-lovers!au #arranged marriage!au #hong jisoo #joshua #seventeen

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be-with-me-so-happily · 2 years

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Not What We Bargained For

PART 1 of 2

|| PART 2 ||

<< Request >> "If it's possible, could you make a story about harry hating you and you didn't know why and then one day you have to share a hotel room with him and you find him jacking off in bed!?! Smut obviously and a fluff ending please?" @pandisasterthatlived

~~~~~

Summary: Harry dislikes YN. She dislikes him. As long as they avoid each other, they can manage to be in the same office. But an unexpected work trip creates more tension than anticipated.

A/N: This was fun to write! I've been wanting to do an enemies to lovers story and this was the perfect way for me to dip my toes into that trope. Hopefully you enjoy it. Might do a pt. 2 later?

>> Warnings: some explicit language, workplace rivalry & jealousy, sexual tension, self-pleasure, oral (male receiving), mild fingering, unprotected penetration

~~~~~

She isn't supposed to be here.

Harry is cursing Doug for his weak immune system, which is currently being attacked by the flu. He should've sucked it up, this is too important. Of course, that's a selfish thought, and Harry knows that, but he can't stop it from popping into his head ever since he was told that YN will be the one to take Doug's place.

He can't stand her. He basically hasn't since the beginning. When she first walked into the office, it seemed like she would be a pleasant presence to have around, another pleasant person to work with. But he was wrong.

Right off the bat, she is rude, and ignores Harry if there happens to be a moment that they are near each other, which he tries to avoid as much as possible. He is one of the top associates. It would only help her career if she was willing to work with him. She doesn't seem to care about anyone else's ideas, she just presents her own as soon as a question is asked in a meeting, and she is constantly taking assignments that could be covered by anyone else. She just comes across as so arrogant, and it does nothing but annoy him at this point.

Why would he want to work with someone like that? To work with an outside hire who thought she was better than everyone else as soon as she got tnere? He wouldn't. He doesn't. And he can't stand the fact that he is being forced to work with her now. He can't stand her.

"Have you gone over the presentation? Read the notes?"

"Yes, Styles. I have. I am prepared."

She will have to prove that in the meeting. However, he doesn't really want to give her much of a chance to do so. This was his assignment. He deserves to present it. He deserves the credit and recognition.

"Just so you know, I'm taking the lead on this."

"I figured as much."

"Good." He responds. "I'm glad we're on the same page."

She sighs and out of the corner of his eye, he catches YN rolling hers.

"If you don't think you can handle it-"

"Seriously? I've done this plenty of times before. This isn't my first presentation!" She snaps back, taking him a little by surprise. He's never heard her raise her voice, but then again he isn't around her much to hear it.

"Sure. But I won't need much help, yeah?"

"Whatever. Fine by me." She responds, crossing her arms and staring out the window.

He rolls his eyes at the way she is pouting. She obviously can't handle that she isn't in charge of this assignment. It serves her right, always trying to one-up everyone else and not being a team player. This is a taste of her own medicine.

"I can pretty much close this deal on my own."

~~~~~

"What our company is presenting to you is an opportunity to grow your business with-"

"Growth, Ms. YLN? Can you guarantee growth?"

"Well, yes-"

"Thank you, Ms. YLN…" Harry clenches his jaw in her direction. "Mr. Tills, the data speaks for itself. What Downings & Co. can guarantee is that your business is worth the risk for the company. And if you consider the ramifications of a drastic change in the financial climate, I believe it is worth the risk for your business to let Downings & Co. oversee things."

Harry glares right at YN as soon as the other members in the meeting are distracted in conversation with each other.

How dare she? This was his presentation. He was the lead and she had no right to add anything else. In fact, she caused doubt and more questions to be raised. He just hopes that she has not ruined his chance to acquire this client.

"Let us have a moment to converse, if you don't mind." Mr. Tills requests.

"Of course." Harry agrees, gathering all of his notes and throwing another quick glare in YN's direction.

They both walk out of the conference room and take a seat just outside.

"What the hell was that?" He scolds.

"Excuse me?"

"You did not need to add anything to the pitch, YN! I had it under control." He begins to raise his voice, taking a deep breath as he notices the receptionist's quick glance in his direction.

"I was just trying to help."

"I told you that I don't need your help."

Although she is quiet, he can hear her scoff, and her body turns to face him.

"You know what, Styles?" She whispers, her eyes scanning the lobby to be certain that no one else is in earshot. "Fuck you."

"What?" He replies, his brow furrowing deep at her astonishing statement, especially in this professional setting.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I said fuck you."

"Me?" He pulls his lips in and does a scan of their surroundings too. "I had this. It was going perfectly, until you caused them to question the growth of their company."

"You weren't doing as well as you think." She quietly chuckles.

"Oh, because you think you can do everything better than anyone else?"

"No…" She huffs. "Because I saw what they-"

"I don't want to hear it, YN. You better hope we don't-... I don't… lose this deal now."

She turns her body away from his and they sit in silence, waiting for the board's decision to be made.

A few minutes later, the conference room door opens and the pair are motioned back inside.

"Mr. Styles and Ms. YLN, we have considered all you have proposed and have agreed to take up the offer."

Harry manages to keep his composure and continue with professionalism.

"Fantastic. I believe that this will be a very beneficial partnership, Mr. Tills."

Another meeting is set up for tomorrow to go over and sign paperwork, so the job is finished for tonight, and they both head back to the hotel.

~~~~~

As the silverware clanks against their plates at the hotel restaurant, the silence feels refreshing to Harry. At least he doesn't have to hear her speak or engage in any kind of awkward conversation.

He whines to himself as he hears YN suddenly clear her throat. He's not surprised she can't keep her mouth shut, or her opinions to herself.

"Look, I really tho-"

"Honestly, I'm not in the mood to talk about it. Yeah?" He interrupts. "I'm just glad it worked out in the end."

"Yeah." She responds. "Now you can celebrate."

"No." He shakes his head.

"Wait, what? You're not gonna celebrate because… why? Because you thought I was going to ruin everything for you? Even though I didn't…"

He wants to argue with her so badly. This is not all about her, as she makes everything out to be. But they are in public, and he is not about to make a scene. So, he decides to bite his tongue and give her a quick honest answer as politely as he can. He lowers his fork, wipes his hand on his napkin, and clasps his hands in his lap.

"No." He reiterates. "I don't celebrate 'til the deal is fully done."

"But we-... I mean, you…"

"I wait 'til everything is official. Signatures and stamps and all that shit."

"Oh." She sits up straighter in her chair.

"What?" He asks sternly.

"Nothing." She pulls her lips inward and drops her gaze. It might be the first time Harry has ever seen her look like this. She almost looks insecure.

"What?" He asks again.

"I just…" She shrugs, gaze still downward. Her new demeanor is completely throwing him off. "I celebrate too early, compared to the 'Styles way'... I guess."

Harry returns his hands to his utensils, shoving a large fork full of his dinner into his mouth.

"That's 'cause you're too cocky." He mumbles, enjoying the fact that his food is muffling his words.

"What's that?" She asks, leaning closer to potentially make out the statement she hopes he will reiterate.

"I said… I said that I guess I'm too cocky." He lies, starting to clench his teeth as he notices that her reaction is giving away that she agrees.

"Well…" She shrugs. "We have our own ways of doing things."

"Certainly do." He replies, beginning to see her shoulders relax a bit, but he quickly straightens up and pushes his plate to the side. "I'm finished."

"Oh! Okay. I'm almost done too." She replies, stabbing as much food as she can with her fork.

"No, please, don't rush." He holds his hand up to reassure her that she doesn't need to hurry, hoping she will listen so that there isn't an awkward elevator ride and walk back to the room. He shudders at the odd thought of how that scene would look to others. As if they were a couple. "M'just gonna take a shower. I'll see you back in the room."

"Right." She nods. "See you back there then."

~~~~~

With a shirt and sweats on, and a towel drying his hair, Harry walks out of the bathroom and almost collides into YN.

"Bloody hell!" He blurts out.

This obviously wasn't the original plan. Harry was supposed to be sharing a room with Doug, someone he would most likely have been spending time with at the bar, being wingman to each other whenever someone caught their eye.

But Doug isn't here, it's YN instead, and because the universe seems to hate Harry, the company wasn't able to find her a separate room.

"Oh shit!" She responds, taking a few more steps away from him. "I just got back. I didn't realize you were right there."

He is thankful he didn't risk it and walk out in a towel, or how he usually walks around. Naked.

"Right."

She places her jacket and bag next to her suitcase, and sits on her bed to remove her heels.

"Stupid fucking things." She states, tossing them to the side and massaging her feet. "Is the bathroom free now?"

He simply nods and she swiftly grabs some clothes, heading straight in there and closing the door.

While he hears the water running, Harry sends a quick, scolding text to Doug, and puts an alarm on his phone.

He puts it down on the nightstand and turns his lamp off before he brings his hands up underneath his head.

His eyes close, and he replays the meeting in his head. He critiques himself on the areas he could have improved, still mentally patting himself on the back for the win, and clenches his jaw as he remembers YN's interruption. One thing pops in his mind that he didn't think anything of before. It was the look of embarrassment on her face when he glared at her. He attributes it to the fact that she couldn't handle a bruise to her ego, but he can't seem to shake the small feeling that it may have actually been genuine.

The bathroom door suddenly swings open, with the scent of lavender and vanilla floating through the air as she returns her work outfit to her suitcase. He subtly opens his eyes, curious to see what YN looks like in a normal setting. Well, in a 'not-the-office' setting.

Harry can't help but notice the way her wet hair falls down and frames her face, no longer being confined into a ponytail. He notices the freckles on her cheeks that are usually hidden by her makeup. He also notices how smooth her bare skin looks, now that it's showing off as a cotton shirt and shorts sit nicely on her body.

He had already admitted to himself, on the first day they met, that she was attractive. She has always looked presentable and professional, and attractive. But this is different. He has never seen her look so natural, there's no reason he would have, and he is taken back by how much he likes seeing her this way.

He is brought out of his thoughts as soon as he hears the creaking of her bed. She turns off the lamp closest to her, but with the city lights peeking through the small opening of the curtains, he can just make out her silhouette.

"Goodnight." She softly speaks.

"Yeah. Goodnight." He replies, turning away onto his side and letting his mind wander as he drifts off to sleep.

~~~~~

Harry wakes up and notices that the sliver of the window he can see still displays a dark sky. He checks the bedside clock to confirm that he has only been asleep for a few hours. He is annoyed that he has randomly woken up, but more so than that, he is annoyed that he has woken up with his dick stiff and throbbing.

He's a man, this has obviously happened to him before, but tonight's is painfully desperate for some relief and he knows he will not be able to return to sleep without taking care of himself.

He turns over to evaluate YN's current position and finds her asleep, facing the other wall. He begins to weigh his options, but his hand uncontrollably makes its way down to the bulge in his sweats, and it feels too good to discontinue those motions.

He glances back over to YN, letting out a heavy breath to test her ability to stay in slumber. When she doesn't react, he slides his hand into his briefs and continues to palm himself, breathing out heavily at the touch.

It feels too good, and he is desperate for relief. He needs it now. He can be quiet, and can stop if he suspects she is waking up. Plus, the risk of getting caught is surprisingly making this all the more enticing for him right now.

He brings his hand out of his pants, pulling them down to free his throbbing dick from its confines, and spits in his hands for some lubrication.

As he checks on YN's position once again, becoming more aroused at the sight of an attractive woman laying there, he begins to stroke himself. The immediate pleasure that his motions create cause him to bite his lower lip and buck up his hips. His thumb rubs over his tip and he can feel himself leaking already. He manages to pull his other lip inward just in time to muffle a moan, and he begins to thrust his hips up to the rhythm of his strokes.

But as good as it feels, he can't seem to get himself over the edge. He spits in his hand for more lubrication and pumps faster, and an uncontrollable, but quiet, moan is released from his lips.

"Come on…" He whispers, tilting his head back further against the pillow and squeezing his eyes shut even tighter.

"Can't close the deal?"

"Shit!" Harry immediately stops stroking himself and his free hand flies up to slap his face.

This is just perfect. Not only does he need release from such an intense erection, but now the one person he can't stand has caught him in the act. Everything about this moment is painful.

He turns his head and peeks through his fingers, just making out her figure and her face staring back at him.

"I… fuck… I…" He stumbles, his ego fading and being overshadowed by embarrassment.

"Need some help?" She chuckles. "I can help."

"Oh fuck off, you're not making this any better for me." He states, an intense blush raging in his cheeks as the intense erection rages within his grasp.

"I could make it better. If you want me to."

"You're not serious! Are you?" He asks, astonished by what he thinks, and also sort of hopes, that she is offering.

"Well, if you can't do the job yourself…" She laughs. "I might as well take the lead on this."

He groans, aching for release.

She shrugs. "It's funny how you didn't need my help earlier in the meeting, but now you clearly do."

"It's not funny." He frowns as he experiences her arrogance yet again.

"It's just too damn bad I don't have the right skills for the job." She adds.

His frown turns into a smirk, actually delighted by her teasing nature. "I can sense your sarcasm."

She shakes her head, looking his body up and down as he lays there on the bed.

"And I can sense your desperation."

Harry clears the lump in his throat. He knows she is being witty, giving him the same back talk that he's given her, but god he thinks it's sexy. Saying she'll help him cum almost makes him explode right there, but he suddenly realizes that he wants what she is offering. Wants and desperately needs at this point.

"I'm very good." She chuckles. "But if you don't think you can handle it-"

"I can!" He interrupts. "I want to."

YN crawls her way onto his bed and closer to him, making her way to lay over his legs, as his breathing picks up its pace.

She gets positioned over his tip and flickers her gaze up to him as she bites her lower lip. He squirms as he lays there, desperate for her to please him.

Her gaze drops down to his dick, and she grabs ahold of his base as her smooth tongue glides up his length. He moans out, not meaning to make so much noise, but the way it feels against his skin sends him into a tizzy already.

"Oh my god."

She licks up one more time, before pushing her lips around him and taking his dick in her mouth. From the feeling alone, one hand jolts down and entangles in her hair, causing her to hum against him.

"Fuck, it feels good." He admits. And it does. It feels better than he would've thought. She takes him in so easily, her soft lips sliding around him as his dick enters between them.

She suddenly pulls off of him and sits back on her knees, pumping him slowly with her hand.

"You know, you're a major asshole to me."

His gaze immediately shoots down to meet hers.

"Umm…" he begins to pant, his dick twitching in her grasp and his heart racing at her statement.

"I haven't done anything to deserve that." She frowns.

He would assume she is furious, except he notices the way her teeth are digging into her bottom lip. Instinct wants him to argue, but his body wants him to shut up so she will continue the pleasuring she is giving him. His body wins over.

"No." He replies, his strong palms moving down to grab onto the part of her knees that are just within reach. "You haven't."

"And you haven't really done anything to deserve this…" She proclaims, squeezing her hand just enough around him to cause a buck up of his hips.

"No, I… haven't…" He breathes out.

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

She quickly drops herself back down and wastes no time taking his dick back into her pretty little mouth.

The sensation flows over him and he throws his head back into the pillow.

"Fuck." He whispers.

The way she begins to use her mouth is as if she knows what he needs. She swirls her tongue exactly how he likes it, and moves her hand to cup his balls, which causes one hand to grab onto her hair again as the other grips onto the pillow underneath his head.

"YN… you're…" He grunts. "Fuck, you're good at this."

Once again, she hums against him, and the vibration ignites his body. It feels so good for him, and he feels his body tensing. He wants to last longer, but with his hand having started things off, and her amazing oral skills, he knows he cannot hold back much longer.

"Shit!" He growls.

"Hm?" She hums, her eyes snapping up to his as her mouth continues to do its work.

"I usually… last longer." He growls. "But m'bout to cum."

By the look in her eyes, he can tell she is smiling around his dick, and his body bucks up.

"Where… can I…" He tries to breathe out.

YN gives his balls a subtle squeeze and moves her hand on top of the one grabbing her hair. She stops her motions, stabilizing herself with her hands on his thighs, and he begins to thrust.

"Oh my god." He moans out.

He continues to pump in and out, as she effortlessly takes him as deep as he can go. It's perfect. She whines out, and his eyes shoot down to her in concern, but he sees her eyes closed. She isn't resisting. She isn't uncomfortable. She's enjoying it, and that sends him over the edge.

His movements get sloppy and his entire body clenches. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lower lip as his release rapidly spills down her throat.

He slows down his pace and hears her whimper as she keeps her mouth surrounding him, massaging his thighs as he works through the sensational orgasm coursing through him.

As he finishes giving her every last drop, he releases the hand grasping her hair, and she sits back up onto her knees.

"Fuck." He pants, eyes still squeezed shut. "That was..."

"Outstanding?" She chuckles, and he opens his eyes to see a wide grin displayed on her plump-lipped face, instantly matching it with his own. Usually her arrogance would annoy the hell out of him, but she has every right to be. It really was outstanding.

"Yeah." He nods.

She begins to move around his body, but he gently grabs her wrists and pulls her closer, causing her to straddle his waist.

"What are you doing?" She gasps, propping herself up with her hands on his chest.

"What if I told you… that I want to flip you over right now and give you a good fuck?"

Her mouth drops open slightly. "What?"

Harry's eyes take in her body. She's still wearing her cotton shirt and shorts, and he is so tempted to see what's underneath. He begins to softly glide his palms against her thighs, running them over her hips and up to her waist.

Her breath hitches and he smirks.

"You did something for me…"

"I did it out of necessity…"

"Really? It's not part of your job description to wrap those pretty pink lips around my dick and suck me off."

"Well, it was a lot of work." She smirks, causing his own breath to hitch at her quick wit. He's finding her sexier by the minute.

"Well, you have one satisfied customer."

"Of course I do! That was some of my best work. I knew you'd like it." She smirks again, causing him to grab tighter on her waist and she lets out a sweet subtle gasp. He can tell she is pretending to resist, because by the heat he can feel between her legs, he knows she wants it, and it makes him want it even more.

"I fucking loved it."

His hands dip under her shirt after seeing her smile, and he is enticed by the smoothness of her skin. Without warning, she grabs the hem of her shirt and swiftly pulls it over her head, tossing it to the side.

Harry licks his lips at the sight of her beautiful body, his eyes taking in every inch of the smooth skin. Never in a million years did he think he'd ever be watching her half naked body as it slowly begins to grind on him.

His gaze moves up to her lips. Those pretty, plump lips that were just taking him in and pleasuring him moments ago.

He can't help himself, wanting to know what they feel and taste like, so he pulls her down on top of him, their chests flush with each other.

One palm reaches around to the back of her head, and there is absolutely no resistant as he smashes their lips together. They do taste good, just as he thought.

An arm wraps around her waist and he swiftly rolls over, keeping their lips together as he hovers over her.

His index finger runs down her body and teases the hem of her panties. She bites her lower lip and he slips his hand inside, running it over her center.

"You're already so wet." He whispers, leaning down and placing another kiss on her lips. He smirks when she responds with a whimper, as he swipes his fingers along her folds once more.

He begins to circle her clit and she moans out, causing a twitch in his dick at the sound.

"Oh my god."

He plays with it one more time, then slides his fingers inside of her and curls them up. She moans again, bucking up her hips as he pumps his digits in and out.

"Fuck, YN, I need to be inside you." He exclaims, with a low and deep exhale. "I need my dick inside of you."

"Please." She whines. "I need it too."

He chuckles at her pleas. He has to admit, he likes seeing her like this- squirming at his touch, yearning for more of him, laying there exposed underneath him.

"You were so cocky before, YN. Now… it looks like you're the one who needs the help…"

"Come on, Harry, please!" She proclaims.

That's the first time she has called him 'Harry' and suddenly a rush of euphoria washes over him. It was such a beautiful sound. The desire to hear, see, and feel more from her begins to overwhelm him.

He sits back and grabs the sides of her panties, slowly removing them from her legs. It's a thong. A sexy, little thong. He's glad he didn't know that she was wearing this during the meeting, because he would've been dazed by the thought, and he's confident he will be distracted tomorrow thinking about another one sitting right down the middle of her ass cheeks.

Another twitch of his dick brings him back to the physical activities, so he quickly removes his sweats and briefs.

He teases his tip at her entrance, coating himself with her wetness before pushing himself in.

It feels good. Being inside her feels really good, and he immediately begins thrusting, as if he is smothering his dick with the feeling of her tight, coated walls.

She lets out a strong whine and he is instantly snapped out of the bliss.

"Shit. Y'alright?" He asks, keeping his voice tender with concern.

"Yeah." She pants. "It's just… I knew you were big, since my mouth was just on you, but… I just need a second… to get used to it this way."

The compliment leaving her lips makes his dick twitch yet again, and he adjusts himself so he can slowly, steadily slide in and out of her.

"That better?" He asks, gazing into her eyes to gauge her level of comfort.

"Yes." She nods in response. "And I want you deeper."

"Yeah?" He smirks. "Want my dick to fill you up?"

"Yes!" She moans, her chest moving quickly with each of his movements.

He pushes her knees closer to her chest as he begins to thrust in deeper.

"Yeah." She moans again, the sound inflating every part of his ego. He actually likes knowing he's pleasing her more than he thought he would. More than be usually does during sex. "Just like that, Harry. Oh my god."

"You're so fucking tight, YN. You're squeezing around me perfectly."

"It feels so good." She whimpers.

"How good? Tell me how good I'm making you feel."

"So good, Harry!" She moans, locking her eyes on his as the praise spills out of her mouth. "You're making me feel so good!"

"What else will make you feel good, baby?"

"Faster." She bites her lip for a moment. "Faster and harder."

Her request sends shivers down his spine. She wants it all and he is so intoxicated by her that he's ready to give it all to her.

"Fuck, YN." He grunts, feeling her straighten her legs to rest on his shoulders. "Fuck I'll do it all for you."

He grabs onto her thighs and begins to pound into her.

"Oh god, Harry!"

"Mmm. So fucking good."

He gives everything he has with each thrust in, pulling out quickly so he can do it all again.

He looks back down at her and feels the indescribable desire to be closer. He wants to feel every inch of her.

He maneuvers his hands between her legs and lowers himself down, resting one forearm on the side of her head, as he uses the opposite to hold onto the back of her thigh.

Both of her hands reach around and tangle themselves in his curls. As he continues his deep, hard, fast thrusts, his breath quickens at the intense desire to take her completely.

"God, I want to ravish you." He admits, unsure how his confession will be perceived.

"I can't guarantee I won't scratch and bite…" She replies, causing his hand to instinctually grab tighter onto the back of her thigh.

"But I can guarantee you'll cum."

His lips swiftly move to her neck, sucking every spot he comes in contact with, not worried about the marks that might show during tomorrow's meeting.

She grabs his shoulders and runs her nails down his back, shooting a sensation through his entire body. Once again, it's as if she knows exactly what he wants, likes, and needs.

He kisses back up her neck to her lips again, parting them with his tongue and gliding his in.

Their tongues move in synchronization, as his hands roam her body. His fingers meet with her nipple, and the high-pitched whimper that leaves her lips is enough to encourage him to play with it.

She squirms and moans, causing him to remove his lips from hers and join his hand. His tongue immediately licks her nipple, and a pleasure-filled shriek echoes through the entire room. His palm grabs her breast and provides a better vantage point to suck all around the breast.

Her breaths and whimpers are all he can hear as he moves over every inch of her smooth skin, and gives everything his dick can provide her.

"Ohhh. Harry, I'm…"

"Tell me." He grunts into her ear.

"I'm gonna cum."

"Cum… YN, I wanna…" He grunts again as his movements get sloppy. "I wanna feel it!"

He props her leg on his shoulder and brings that hand up to her jaw, pressing his lips firmly against hers again.

She lets out a vibrant moan, one that could set every fiber of his body ablaze.

"Oh my god, Harry!"

"Yes. Fuck yes."

Her hands run up and grip his hair, tugging on it as her body squirms beneath him.

"H-... Har… oh god!"

Her hips suddenly buck up, getting him as deep as he can go before she drops down onto the bed after one last, beautiful moan of his name.

"Harry!"

"I'm close, baby, I can… in you?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck I'm gonna give you… all of it."

"I want all of it." She whispers.

With that, he spills into her once again, reducing his thrusts as he melts down on top of her, kissing her neck as they both work through their orgasms together.

"Harry, that was…"

"Outstanding?" He chuckles against her skin and she breathes out a laugh of her own.

"Yeah. Outstanding."

He rolls off, leaving them both laying on their backs in bliss, and trying to catch their breath.

"You can, umm, stay in my bed tonight… if you want."

She rolls onto her side and props herself up on her elbow.

"Mr. Styles wants to cuddle?" She giggles.

The sassy, yet sexy expression on her face causes a blush to cover his.

"Forget it." He responds, embarrassment filling him as the reality, and original cause, of what happened reenters his mind.

She scoots closer, running one hand through his tossled hair, then cupping his cheek as she places a gentle kiss on his lips.

He can't fully comprehend what he's feeling, definitely not in any coherent matter at the moment, but he melts at her touch. Then he melts more as she looks into his eyes with the sweetest gaze.

"You want to be big spoon or little spoon, Harry?"

~~~~~

Harry is pulled out of his sleep to the sound of beeping and YN calling his name.

"What?" He asks.

"Can you turn off your fucking alarm?"

"M'sorry." He fumbles around on the nightstand next to him, barely opening his eyes enough to silence his phone.

"Thank you!" She sternly exclaims.

He finally blinks his eyes open to find YN laying in the other bed, hands covering her face and she begins to blink her eyes open. He frowns, not remembering when she left his bed, and a little confused as to why.

"Well good morning to you too." He chuckles, propping his head up on his hand. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh, happy that this deal will be done and that I can go back home…"

"Well, yeah." He chuckles again. "But, I mean, how are you feeling about last night?"

She twists her head in his direction and gives him an unsettling frown.

"Dinner was fine."

"Right…" He dramatically rolls his eyes.

"I had a good sleep… if that's what you mean..?"

His heart sinks and stomach twists into knots, as she raises up and gets off her bed, walking towards her suitcase and grabbing her toiletry bag.

Does she regret it? Was she actually disappointed? Or is she just that heartless? She can't be. Not the way she was treating him last night. That definitely wasn't heartless.

"Right, but-"

He scoots closer to the edge of the bed and his hip slides over a large damp spot on his sheets. He looks down and feels around for a clue as to what it is and why she is suddenly acting a little cold towards him.

He examines the bed, the room, and her figure as she heads towards the bathroom.

He suddenly realizes what's going on, and his heart stops as he buries his face in his pillow.

She is in her bed. She is wearing her cotton shirt and shorts. He is wearing his briefs and sweats, and there's a damp spot on his bed.

They didn't have sex.

He looks up to catch one last glimpse of her before she walks into the other room, and his stomach drops.

Nope, they didn't have sex.

He just had a wet dream.

~~~~~

If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 💗 Bee xx

~~~~~

Main Masterlist

Overall Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @slut4lilyrose @pinktakeaway @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @his-only-angel-1989 @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @harryistheonlyoneforme @b-reads-things @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @spicyscorpsag @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @thatbitch2828 @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @sushiabby @woanderry @harrystylesrecs @robotrry @vickiii17 @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff

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1800pain · 9 months

Text

PRIVATE SYSTEM SERVER.

Hello. As a show of my ability, I have created a private system server template for you to use. While "private" is in the name, I have included two access roles (Friend and Trusted Friend)—however I have not done any permissions for them. There is a Bot role that has permissions for them, like access to the System Setup category.

And, like the last template, only traumagenic systems can interact with this blog and use my templates. Endogenic systems and their supporters get blocked.

Note that not every single channel is in this gif, just the ones I deemed the most important to show.

Use the template here, however do note that the announcement channel and all of the forums channels will not copy over, and you will have to add them yourself: Private System Server Template

I am okay with you editing my template for your own use. Do not redistribute as your own.

If you need any help, you can leave an ask in my inbox.

Explanations for channels under the cut. LONG, BUT PRETTY DAMN IMPORTANT TO READ.

All forum channels are marked with a speech bubble emoji 💬 in front of them; those are channels that you will miss. The single announcement channel that also will be missing is marked with a mega emoji 📢.

#welcome - When someone joins the server, they will not see any channels, and you must give them a role so they can access this the server. You can see their welcome message here so you know someone's joined.

📢 update-status-fronting - If a switch happens, you put up a DNI, or want to otherwise warn people about your current state, you can update it here.

🔇 layout by 1 800 pain on tumblr - Feel free to delete this.

Text channels:

#bot - This is the only channel that has "Use application commands" permissions on it. If you would like to set it on other channels, you'd have to do it manually—or you can add it to the @everyone tag.

💬 dms - In the title, I put "[DM/GC] Channel name" under the post, then write the participants. I have a tag system for this channel (see below).

💬 thoughts - Headmates' thinking time. I also have a tag system for this channel (see below).

💬 mailbox - Essentially, I create a channel with a headmate's name and there are two tags: Read and Unread. Read means they've read the messages people leave for them, and Unread means they have yet to read them. It's a simple way to communicate with headmates who are not fronting.

System Setup:

All servers here are unable to be chatted in; only any member with the Bot role can do that. I enjoy setting up my PluralKit work into a few separate categories:

#resources - Easy access to Simply Plural, Notion, Evernote, or various places I get PNGs to set up PluralKit profiles—things of that nature and related to it.

#pk-setup - For descriptions and things.

#pk-pfps (not in gif) - To add profile pictures and banners. I put it in its own space because it's a different type of spam, image-based spam, than pk-setup, which is mostly text-based spam.

#new-arrivals - For showing people who made their PluralKit account, mainly for documentation.

#pk-spam - Just general things that don't quite relate to the ones above; typically things like pk;r.

💬 image-resources - If you change your icons or banners a lot, this can help. I put icons/banners here with credits to the original artist, the original art, and the edited version we use in our profiles. It's tagged by Icon, Faceclaim, Banners, etc.

#pk-log (hidden, not in gif) - To store PluralKit messages. If you also would like, you can add a more general moderation bot (such as Carl-bot) to also store non-PK messages.

System-centric:

#to-do: Self-explanatory; got any plans? Put them here.

#sys-chat: More general system chatter.

#sys-work: Talk about... system work.

#headmate-observations: If you notice something about your headmate—such as a positive/negative trigger, a various quirk they have, or any idea how their role works—share it here.

💬 headspace: A headspace forum to talk about headspace. More information in the image below.

The collection of the channels that you will miss, check the images above for extended information:

📢 update-status-fronting (uncategorized)

💬 dms (in general category)

💬 thoughts (in general category)

💬 mailbox (in general category)

💬 image-resources (in System Setup category)

💬 headspace (in System-centric category)

#system discord #discord server #actually did #did #did osdd #did system #did/osdd #dissociative system #osddid #traumagenic system #pluralkit #server template #endos do not interact #endos dni #pro endos dni #⚠ FLASH LIGHT

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destinysbounty · 5 months

Text

Huh. I just dug up an old fan-theory i came up with back when i was like 15. And while its definitely way too weak to hold up against any real scrutiny, it at the very least makes for some mildly interesting fanfic fodder so i thought id share it with the greater fandom hivemind.

(Dont come at me about the holes in this theory btw, i was practically a baby when i came up with this and it was one of my first attempts at theory-crafting. Trust me, ive come a long way since then)

Anyway, the theory goes like this:

While in the lighthouse, Dr. Julien builds a replica of his son. But try as he might to get it to turn on, it never actually works. Whatever special spark brought the first Zane to life is inexplicably absent from this one. So he locks it away in his basement, and never gives it the light of day again. This is the reason Dr. Julien never told Zane about Echo, or brought him with them - because at the time, Echo wasnt even functional. Wouldnt even turn on. Was nothing more than a lifeless shell collecting rust in the basement.

So how, then, did Echo become sentient by season 6? Great question! But uhh heres where the theory kinda starts to go off the rails. So buckle up, folks.

Basically the theory goes that when Zane died at the end of s3, his soul still lingered in Ninjago. And his disembodied spirit eventually found itself drawn to a vessel that was similar to the one he'd lost - one his father had built yet long abandoned. But his new body lacked the memory storage contained within his old one, and his resurrection effectively gave him almost complete amnesia. All he could remember was his name and his purpose (to protect those who cannot protect themselves).

Meanwhile, when Titanium Zane says hes a replica, hes actually completely right about that. Some fragments of his code left behind from his visit to the Digiverse gained sentience and inherited Zane's elemental power, creating the Zane we know and love today.

But the original Zane, the one that died fighting the Overlord, actually ended up becoming Echo Zane. Which then would have explained why Zane had so many holes in his memories after being resurrected, and why his sixth sense became much less active as well - he was only made from fragments of the real Zane's code, after all.

Now, as the big smart grownup i am today, i can look back at this theory my baby self had crafted and poke about a million holes into it. But...idk, i always feel nostalgic about this theory in spite of all that. Not just bc it was one of my first fan theories ever, but also bc it would have such fascinating narrative implications if true.

Like, the idea of Mr. E being Echo? Well, if we apply that to the concept of Echo being the Original Zane, then his hatred for Current Zane takes on a whole new dimension. It also gives me a lot of emotions about the whole Ice Emperor situation, as well as Zane's apparent discomfort towards his own statue.

And what kind of position does that put the rest of the gang in? If they had to choose between saving one or the other - the Zane who died for you, or the Zane who lives for you - which one would they choose? Could they choose? How long do you have to love a replica before it starts to feel more authentic than the original? And in that case, who becomes the 'real' zane? The one you love, or the one you lost?

Again. This theory has more holes in it than the Titanic. Cut me some slack, i was an idiot child and also a novice at making theories. But giving credit where its due, i do think it at least raises some interesting concepts. And Ive always casually wondered what would happen if it turned out to be true.

Like i said. Fanfic fodder.

#god i wouldve made that theory...what? almost seven years ago? damnnnnn #wow im so old #ninjago #destiny post

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corazondebeskar-reads · 2 months

Text

live to rise - chapter four

live to rise series

four: where the light won't find you

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

gladiator!Din Djarin x f!reader

word count: 4.3k

summary: After the Mandalorian is removed from your barrack and you are given a new assignment, you see him fight for the first time.

chapter warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, implied rape/non-con (NOT involving reader or Din), implied physical abuse, near-death encounter, mando fic tropes galore

Please heed the series and chapter warnings.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Reassigned. Not terminated. Reassigned. Your hand rests on your heaving chest as you try to settle from the surprise of it all.

The Mandalorian’s been sponsored.

You hadn’t thought it possible; his price was supposedly astronomical. This person must be obscenely rich.

And then your heart drops further. This is why you shouldn’t have gotten so close. Yes, you’d rather have him leave your barracks alive than dead, but you can’t help the wave of sorrow that crests. You had enjoyed his company immensely, even dismissing the feelings you weren’t acknowledging.

It’s not like you didn’t treat each parting as potentially permanent anyway, but sometimes, with your long-term residents, you got a little too comfortable.

You pack up the bedding hastily and head toward Cresh. You know he won’t still be there, you tell yourself, you’re just going to get the cell turned over as soon as possible.

It hurts a little to find it empty, anyway.

Cresh goes through three more C-5s before you hear about the Mandalorian again.

“How did you deal with him?” Hali asks you one night after the attendants have shared the day’s news.

“With who?” you ask, even though there’s no one else she could mean.

“That Mandalorian. He was so gruff and rude. I’m the fifth attendant he’s rejected, and it’s making everyone on edge. Like there’s something wrong with us .”

You shrug it off. “He’s just guarded. He probably doesn’t want someone in his space.”

“Yeah, well,” she grumbles. “It’s not like we want to be in his space.”

“Has anyone explained that to him?”

“I tried to,” she says. “But it’s like he wouldn’t even listen to me.”

Cold clarity finds you with your lips parted and eyes wide. You can’t tell her. But your stomach sinks. The design of those cells puts him at the back of the chamber. If they’re being quiet, from fear or otherwise, he can’t hear them.

They come for you the next day. Two guards. The fear when they beckon you is almost enough to bring you to your knees.

The only reason you don’t panic completely is because they don’t bind you. They just march you between them to the upper levels.

When you reach the lounge, they shove you through the door, and you stumble a little.

“This is the girl, as requested, Madame, but we really can’t spare her from her duties,” says one of the commanders. You don’t know his name; the officers never come downstairs.

“If she’s the only attendant he’ll accept, you don’t have a choice. Or am I paying these frankly extortionary caretaking fees for nothing?”

You stiffen, all nerves sparking on high alert.

The commander stammers a little, losing his composure when he realizes credits are on the line.

“I can handle both, Commander, I swear," you say, immediately wishing you hadn't.

The Mandalorian's sponsor turns slowly, a thin eyebrow arched. You figure you’re already in for it for speaking out of turn, so you clench your jaw and meet her eyes.

She’s petite, but there’s an undeniable aura of danger pouring from her. Her dark eyes are cold, and her plum lips narrowed. Her clothing is intricate and expensive in the way of the truly wealthy—it’s not dripping with jewels or gold; it’s quality fabric tailored immaculately, with delicate embroidery creating striking and flattering designs. She does wear jewelry, but it’s subtle and almost assuredly custom.

“Why you?” she says.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I was his barrack caretaker.”

She hums and blatantly looks you up and down, circling you like a nexu. You keep your head up and force yourself not to follow her with your eyes. To let her prowl and remain uncowed.

It’s unbecoming of a servant, you know. But you want her to know you can handle him, that you won’t be intimated and manipulated by the infamous Mandalorian.

When she comes back around, she has a pleased, sharp grin. Turning to the commander, she crosses her arms.

“Make it happen, or I’ll withdraw my sponsorship.”

“Yes, Madame,” he says.

You don’t want to leave the barracks. Not Cresh and not the servant’s quarters. It doesn’t really hit you until you hug Eli and realize you’ll barely see him anymore.

“Shut up,” he grumbles when you say as much. “You’re going to come by and report, right?”

You nod, sniffling into his tunic. “I will.”

He puts his hands on your shoulders. “This is a good thing. You’ll have better… everything. And you said you trust him, right?”

“I think so,” you say.

“C’mon, I’ll walk with you,” he says.

You shove his shoulder. “You just want to see what it’s like inside.”

“Well, duh,” he shoves you back.

He only gets to peek in, of course. But he still plays it up to get a smile from you. “This is kriffing wizard,” he teases. “You get your own fresher? Practically Canto Bight.”

But you’re not really seeing it through the same lens. Because your new quarters are in the Mandalorian’s cell. There’s a barred gate between you, but your cot is still behind the solid durasteel door, same as his.

Eli sees the fear on your face. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “It’s not locked for you. Your badge will always open it.”

He sets your bag down on the small cot and hugs you again. “You know where to find me.”

“I will,” you say. You don’t catch the look he gives Mando over your shoulder.

You sit down on the cot when Eli leaves, more unmoored here than you’ve been in years. You let it sit, ugly and misshapen in your chest, before steeling your focus.

“Do you have everything you need?” you say.

“I think so,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, and silence resettles. It’s strange to feel so uncertain around him again. “I’ll go retrieve your dinner.”

“Do you eat here as well?” he asks.

“If you wish,” you say. Your hands are folded together and wrapped up in the top apron layer of your skirts.

“I don’t want to disrupt your routine,” he says.

“I’m here to attend to you,” you remind him, feeling a little frustrated by all the things unsaid.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s—it’s nothing,” you say and sigh. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

He’s almost relieved when you only bring one tray. Everything about this has been chaotic and messy. But it’s a sacrifice that has to be made.

You retrieve his tray when you return from dining with the others, but this time, you come back to him after. The lights are out, and you think he might be asleep already, so you duck into the fresher from your side of the bars and wash up for the night.

You settle onto your cot, almost grateful that it’s not any more comfortable than your old one. It’s strange, without the shuffling and snoring of your peers.

And then it starts. A horribly unmistakable sound from the cell next door. You hope you’re wrong. You pray you’re wrong.

You’re not.

You sit up, fingers digging into your knees, and eyes on the ground.

You can’t see into the cells around you, but you can certainly hear your neighboring attendant’s screams and cries.

They’re begging and pleading, but no one will help them. It’s the champion’s right. The attendants must serve every request unless it goes against arena rules.

Very few things do.

It’s not that you’re afraid of the Mandalorian. It’s more like you’re just afraid. But he’s done nothing to lose your trust, so you try not to flinch when he comes near the bars between his cell and your chamber.

While you manage not to, you do flinch each time the noises intensify or change. The sound of skin against skin is constant, but some are more obviously violent, emphasized by the nauseating responses.

“Hey,” he says. “Come here.”

You’re trembling a little, but you tense and try to hold steady as you stand and approach him. The gate is not locked. It only locks when you access the main door, so that you may come and go without releasing him.

If you’re inside? All he has to do is push.

But he doesn’t. “Don’t listen,” he says. “Cover your ears if you have to.”

“I’m fine,” you say.

He doesn��t quite catch it, but he can wager a solid guess from your expression. He sighs. “You can look at me, you know,” he says. “You’ll see me eventually.”

“I might be able to avoid it,” you say.

“I appreciate it,” he says. “But this is all going to be easier if you don’t have to be trying so hard.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to take anything from you.”

“I’m asking you to. I don’t want the first time you see my face to be in the arena.”

You bite your lip. It makes sense. “You’re sure?”

“I am.”

And you can’t really argue. Not because you’re supposed to do what he says but because you get it. He’s right; you will see him in the arena. But he can control how it happens this way. It doesn’t have to be another thing they just take.

So you look.

Your eyes scan his face like they always do when you see one of your fighters for the first time. Searing it in so you can find it later in the pigments.

You won’t paint him, though. Not like this.

He holds steady eye contact. You feel like he’s waiting for a reaction, but nothing comes. He’s beautiful, but that’s not yours to say.

“I’m sorry,” you say instead.

“Thank you.” He pauses. “Worked, though, didn’t it?”

You blink at him for a moment.

The smallest shadow of a crooked smile flickers but doesn’t ignite. “Distracted you.”

The hall is quiet. You hadn’t realized, but the horrors next door had wound down. Stars, you hope they’re okay. Sleeping or tending their wounds. Not… well. Not forcibly silenced.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, drawing your eyes back to him. His fingers wrap around a bar near yours. Not touching, but inviting.

“Okay.” You’re not really sure what else to say. You’ve heard it before. Some mean it, some don’t. You think he’s genuine, that he’s safe, but that caution is like a little burn that never heals, leaving you to flinch away.

Your fingers twitch, and he thinks you’re about to touch his.

But you wince when the main door of the neighboring cell opens. His eyes bear a plea he won’t voice, but you only hesitate for a moment before pressing your badge to the scanner. His gate clicks and the door whooshes open.

They’re already ducking into the medbay when you catch up, so you stick your hand in front of the sensor to force the doors back open.

It’s the girl whose name you couldn’t remember on the Mandalorian’s first night. Sessa. She startles and whirls around when she hears you, hand pressed to her chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you," you say quietly.

She looks at you for a moment, something hauntingly empty in her eyes before she seems to recognize you. She covers her face with her hands.

“Please,” you whisper. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I—” her voice breaks, and you step closer, offering an embrace she folds into.

You don’t say anything. What could you? That you’re sorry? She knows. That it’ll be okay? It won’t. It’s horrible, she doesn’t deserve it, it’s inhumane, but none of those things will help her. She knows.

She doesn’t even really cry. It aches, but the tears don’t come, just the soft prickle of numbness. She’ll survive this, you think. She shouldn’t have to, but she will.

When the time for softness has faded, you let her pull back, and she lets you assess her. She sits on the counter with an ice pack to her cheek and drinks the tea you press into her hand. Her nose wrinkles at the bitter taste, but the tincture within is worth it. A reassurance. Nothing will come of this that she can’t bear.

When she leaves, she hugs you again, and you stay behind in the dark room, leaning against the counter with your arms folded over your chest.

It wasn’t a secret, what happened here. It didn’t always; a lot of the fighters are honorable people. But sometimes… sometimes this life warps the psyche beyond repair. Sometimes, desperate people do desperate things. Become something terrible to survive.

You just hadn’t been witness to the cruelty before.

When you go back, Mando is still awake. Waiting, you think.

“Is she—” he hesitates. He doesn’t want to ask if she’s okay, because the answer is no. It’s not really what he’s asking, anyway.

You nod, lips pursed tight. She’ll live, your silence says. And it’ll have to be enough.

It’s strange. Waking in his cell but rising to follow your old habits anyway. He gets served first, and then you take breakfast down to Cresh as if nothing has changed. Except you can’t linger, you can’t chat and learn of them as you used to. You have to return to the Mandalorian.

It’s strange for the both of you. Your time is usually spent busy or with the other servants. His time is usually spent alone. He doesn’t have a fight that first day and so you are forced to learn to navigate one another.

The gate between you remains closed.

He does push-ups while you fold laundry, executes a series of jumps that cycle between laying on the floor and springing to his feet that exhaust you just to see from the corner of your eye while you clean, and balances on his hands—one and both—while you flip through the agenda on your datapad and try not to be caught impressed.

It’s quiet, this life, with neither of you inclined to interrupt the other. You let him know when you phase in and out to attend to your duties and his needs. Otherwise, you don’t really speak until nightfall.

“I’m sorry,” he says in the safety of the dark. “I didn’t know it would create more of a burden for you. I just… couldn’t trust anyone else.”

“It’s not a burden, just a change. I understand,” you say softly.

He sighs, an edge of frustration biting. “I disrupted your routine.”

You snort. “So?”

“I separated you from your friends.”

You sigh. “Will it make you feel better if I pretend to be mad?”

“Why aren’t you?”

You sit up on your cot. “Nothing about this life is fair, and it’s all temporary. Everyone leaves, one way or another. Everything shifts. This is just another phase of my time here, and there’s no point in being upset about it.”

He lets it sit for a minute. “How long have you been here?”

“Three years. I have just under two left.”

The weight of the time is not lost on him, and you can see the hint of a grim smile. “You haven’t let it break you.”

You return the smile. “Not yet.”

He reclines against the wall, legs sprawled and dangling over the side of his bed. “For what it’s worth, I truly am sorry. It was a selfish thing for me to ask of you.”

“I’m glad you’re not alone.” You mean it. It may have disrupted what you knew before, but getting moved here did the same for him. And it took away his opportunity to talk to others. “I’m glad you trust me with this.”

He sighs, bittersweet. “Me too.”

Something shifts, then, that you’re grateful for. The guilt and awkwardness dissipate and leave behind that budding comradery you had started to forge together. A sense of peace.

It’s one of the better nights of sleep you’ve had in a long time.

You’ve never been in the stands before, let alone in the box. Though it’s exposed to the open sun, the vents wash it in cool air, unlike the curved benches where the crowds jeer and hiss.

No, up here in the sponsor box, surrounded by the important and the rich, you’re considered fortunate. The Mandalorian’s sponsor is late, but you’re in place. While he waits for battle, your services shift to her.

“You’re still here,” the Madame says as she approaches her seat.

You stand to the side, stiff and silent, until she draws near. “Yes, Madame.”

She gives you an appraising once-over. “Good.” Her voice is as sharp as her eyes, and she settles to watch.

You don’t really know the protocol here. Your days serving in the lounge were passed silently, circling the room with a loaded tray. Here, you’re meant to cater to her alone.

She doesn’t speak to you, though. Doesn’t acknowledge you. She lounges, coiled and elegant, like a tree viper.

You don’t want to watch the fights. You don’t. But you know, now, that you must. You owe it to the barrack caretakers; you can’t leave this responsibility to the other attendants alone. You all bear the burden together.

When the first fight ends in a double loss, both fighters fatally wounded, you know you’re not strong enough for this. The nausea rises until all you smell is blood, a phantom sense as the sand turns red beneath each pair’s feet. You’re shaking and all you can think is how glad you are not to have to hold a tray of glasses.

And then it’s time.

The Madame sits up, focused, and you know. Teeth dig into the soft flesh of your cheek to hold your breath steady and shallow. Quiet as possible, as if you need to strain to hear what’s playing out in front of you.

And you think, he should not be caged, for he is power and beauty and ferociousness. You can see why his people followed him to death. He is death.

His opponent lands exactly one strike, and you almost think the Mandalorian allowed it. Like he was gauging the strength and will. He prowls, teeth bloodied and bared, a snarl natural in the set of his lips. You think it’s laid in beskar steel, a scar you can’t smooth out into the soft curve of a smile.

No, that’s been stolen from him, too.

He asks his opponent’s name, and you think he’s carving it into his ribcage, so each time he breathes, it impresses upon his lungs.

When he moves, it’s calculated. Like the arena is a map he’s plotting, each strike or dodge choreographed and steadfast. There are no weapons today, just fists, and though his opponent has the advantage of razor-sharp teeth, they never even come close to slicing him open.

And then it’s over. The Mandalorian’s broad hands dwarf the other fighter’s jaw as he secures his grip and snaps. The body falls limp and the Mandalorian sneers at the crowd before he looks up.

There’s no way he can see you, but it feels like it. It feels like he sees you there, and doesn’t find what he was afraid of.

He’s not in the room when you get back down, and you pre-set his towels and clean clothes, so you won’t need to go hunting them down if he wants to shower. It’s still mid-afternoon, and you’re buzzing with the leftover cocktail of adrenaline and cortisol when he comes back.

Neither of you speaks at first as he goes into his half of the cell and cracks his knuckles, sighing deeply once the main doors are shut.

“Are you okay?” he says.

You’re surprised until you realize you shouldn’t be. He knows how weak you are. “Yeah,” you say.

“Are you afraid of me now?” he says quietly, not looking at you.

Oh. You get up and come closer to the gate. “No. I’m not.”

He meets your eyes and must find the truth in them, nodding grimly. “So what did you think?”

“Why do they have you fight with a shirt on?”

His eyes widen. “What?”

“Well, it’s just, they usually—um.”

“What?”

“They usually make the more attractive fighters wear as little as possible. You know. To appeal to the crowds.”

Huh. He thought it was a choice made by the few he’d seen showing skin. And then he can’t help it. You won’t look him in the eye, and he can’t resist. “You think I’m one of the more attractive fighters?” he teases.

Your cheeks burn, and you look very seriously at the ground. “I—I mean like, um, objectively—“

He spares you. “It’s because of my tattoos. They don’t want me out there covered in Mandalorian symbology.”

“Oh,” you say, imagination kicking off. “Can I—I’m sorry, that’s so inappropriate of me. I just… like… art.” It sounds so stupid and crude, but you mean it.

“I’ll show you when I’m clean,” he says with a shrug.

He always seems to understand. It’s a comfort you’ve never known before.

When he gets out of the fresher, though, you realize you have severely overestimated yourself. Because your first thought when he steps into his room is fuck. He’s big. You know he’s big. And broad. But without a shirt on? Stars. And he’s still a little wet, his crumpled curls dripping down his shoulders.

You have got to get yourself under control. You’re pretty sure you’ve already been busted, though, because he’s suddenly looking at you, something a little dark in the lines of his face, and you feel flayed under his disapproval.

Your brain reboots in time to recover, though, as you really do take in the way his skin is bathed in black ink. A lot of it is abstract, sharp angles and curving arcs intertwining with constellations and letters in a language you don’t recognize. Some of it almost looks like smears of paint, the ink laid across his body in a manner so akin to brushstrokes that the craftsmanship is breathtaking.

But there are a few pieces that differ, ones that stand out against the intricate patterns. You realize you’ve stepped up to the gate once he does the same.

“These are incredible,” you say. “How long did this take?” You nod at the swirl of ink on his bicep that wouldn’t look out of place in your own work.

“A very long time,” he says.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. What was your first one?”

He turns around, and you’re struck by the mythosaur skull that takes up most of his back. It’s almost shimmering.

“The ink…” you start.

He turns back around. “It’s imbued with beskar.”

Your jaw drops. “It’s what?”

“It’s—I’m going to be honest, I don’t fully understand the process. But we use a small amount of molten beskar in the ink for certain tattoos. These have it, too.” He indicates the two on his front that had stood out from the rest.

“Do you mind if I ask what they are? Why they’re the ones that use beskar?”

“No,” he says casually. “They’re things that I should never be without, parts of my armor that can never be fully taken. This,” he taps the diamond-esque design on his chest, “is a beskar’ta. Every Mandalorian has one. It’s the heart.”

You’re staring, unashamed, as he indicates the other glimmering mark on his shoulder.

“This is a mudhorn, the symbol of my clan. Someday, my son will have the same one. He’s too young. Or, well. He’s…” he pauses like he can’t decide if he wants to get into this. “He’s not ready yet.”

“So… so you always have it with you. Your armor. The beskar.”

“Yes. Not everyone gets them, but many do.”

“That’s beautiful.” You’re a little speechless. Not just from the beauty of the art but the sheer idea. “That’s…”

“You can see why Gideon doesn’t want them to be seen.”

“Yeah,” you say, a small scoff slipping out. “No kidding.”

You step back, and he tugs on his shirt, ruffling his still-damp hair like nothing world-shattering has happened. And yet, the room seems to have tilted and knocked you to the side, the shift undeniable.

You don’t realize why until you remember the look on his face when he caught you staring the first time. It wasn’t discomfort. It was hunger.

It’s not a tension, exactly, that settles between you. It’s more like an acknowledgment. Something is going to change. It’s just a matter of when. And it lingers in the air for weeks.

It happens, like almost all things here, in the wake of fear.

You return to the cell before him, having fled the box as soon as his narrowest victory was called. Not that it gave you much of a head start, but you had time to grab a medpack and fresh clothes before they brought him in.

He never uses the arena freshers anymore, not even just to wash away the sticky, fresh blood. No, he’s still quite coated in it when the door snicks shut behind him, his face gaunt and haunted.

You think, at first, that he was afraid to die.

Who moves first is irrelevant. Your only focal point in the galaxy is the way he feels pressed right against you, fingers digging into your soft flesh like he’s trying to pull you into his ribcage as you embrace.

You’re not being much gentler, clinging on as you shake with unshed tears.

He lets go of your waist to clutch your face in his bloody hands. “Promise me you won’t watch.”

“What?” you say, rearing your head back to look at his furrowed brows and pouted lips.

“Don’t watch. When it happens. I don’t want you to have to see.”

Oh. “Stop,” you whisper, but he’s shaking his head.

“It’s all I could think about. Look away, and don’t find out what they do with my body. Promise me, kar’talyc.”

All that comes out is a sob when you try to argue.

His hand cups the back of your head, and he pulls you against his still-soaked chest.

Once you’ve settled a little, he pulls back but leaves his hands on your shoulders. “Promise.”

“Mando—“

“Din.”

You blink at him for a moment. “What?”

“My name is Din.”

next chapter

*Din calls her kar'talyc, which basically means "bleeding heart" (from kar'ta, meaning "heart," and talyc, meaning "bloody.") He's been calling her that in his head since the last chapter.

*tattooed Din and his mythosaur were inspired by this art by @xxlumos

*title from "Everybody Wants to Rule the World" by Tears for Fears, but I listened to the Lorde version while writing this and highly recommend it for the vibes. The original is quite a different mood lol.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian fic #gladiator!din djarin #fic: live to rise

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