#or killing off more than one would have balanced it better

[neoflect]

sharing some of my disorganized jojo musical thoughts now that ive had a week to sit on it and ive rewatched it several times over. i intended to wait to publish something like this until a subtitled version was available, but im not seeing any indication that thats happening any time soon so for now youll have to deal with my loose interpretations from my extremely rudimentary and rusty japanese… so take what i have to say about the finer points of characterization with a grain of salt. gratuitous spoilers below obviously, both for the original source material and the changes made in the stage production

my feelings are OVERWHELMINGLY positive. of course there are things i can criticize or that i would have personally done differently but oh man… i have literally not thought about anything besides this fucking show for a week. im 100% confident in saying this is a better adaptation of the source material than the tv anime. sorry to the davidpro staff, i respect their hard work and their love for jojo and their dedication to what is by any metric a pretty difficult property to adapt off of the page, but i dont know if i can ever forgive them for leaving half of the first episode’s storyboard on the cutting room floor in order to fit a standard half-hour tv slot, especially considering that what they cut is some of the really crucial character-building stuff. happily those scenes are not only reproduced in the stage version, some of them are expanded upon!

with the quick disclaimer that i’ve only managed to get my hands on the final 4/14 performance with shotaro arisawa and yoshihisa higashiyama, from what i’ve seen the casting is perfect. i’m sure there’s a rip of the 4/13 performance somewhere (i’ve seen clips) but i haven’t been able to find one… every single performer knocks it out of the fucking park, the cast chemistry is incredible and even the minor characters are loaded with charisma. and mamoru miyano… my god… mamoru miyano i owe you an apology. i was not familiar with your game. of course hes been killing it for decades at this point but i had soured on him a little bit recently because i felt like he was overcast in everything and i just didnt connect with his dnt reinhard at all, so when the casting was initially announced back in august i was underwhelmed, and of course my standards for the dio role in particular were astronomically high… i’ll go more into detail later in the post because i have so so many things to say about dio’s characterization here but mamoru miyano’s performance is like, life-changing. i had impossible expectations and he exceeded them.

sorry if im gushing. i am a hater by nature. its unusual for me to be so thoroughly pleased with something. im not even a musical theater guy. these are strange new feelings for me.

just to balance things out i’ll talk about a couple of the things that didn’t really work for me: first of all, the music is just ok. my initial draft of this post called the music “bad” but three additional viewings later i have warmed up to some of the songs. i don’t know if this is a shortcoming by dove attia as the composer or if it’s just me, as i said i’m not a musical guy and a lot of the genre conventions of musical theatre are not really the things i look for in music that i enjoy, but like… even at their worst they are serviceable. nothing here is sonically unpleasant to me. high points are “resolve of the ripple” (zeppeli’s hamon training song, a jazzy swing number - it’s simply catchy and fun to listen to) and the closer “phantom blood” (a sweeping ballad that reprises the earlier “light and darkness”/”golden spirit” leitmotifs into an epic duet between jonathan and dio as they join hands and walk off into the darkness together… made me cry! i wont lie! on every single one of my numerous viewings this one got me misty eyed!)

wait i forgot this is supposed to be the part where i’m being critical. ok my most loathed song in the musical is “dio’s world”. sorry dio nation. it doesn’t really work for me. i think this might be a case of my standards/expectations being too impossibly high because it’s not even really the worst song in the whole thing. and of course miyano eats it up so it’s not really his fault. i just find it kind of underwhelming… i find the melody a little grating, it’s kind of just a generic rock number, it’s just missing a particular je ne sais quoi…. the essence of dio isn’t there… lyrically though i am obsessed with the premise of dio recruiting his minions by selling himself as a kind of social revolutionary who is upending and inverting the brutal hierarchy of post-industrial victorian society with zombie blood magic. you win some you lose some.

the second sticking point for me is the costumes. they’re perfectly serviceable… adequate… but i mean when it comes to jojo “serviceable” and “adequate” costume design obviously falls well below what’s expected, right? a lot of the outfits have kind of a boxy, almost flat-looking kind of unflattering fit on the actors, which if i wanted to be generous i could attribute to the challenge of bridging the gap between these frail slender musical theater twinks and the two-meter-tall 250lb roided-out beefcakes theyre meant to be embodying. (bearing this discrepancy in mind a lot of the insane martial arts stuff in the second act doesn’t really land with the oomph that it should, but i also understand logistically why this kind of casting is not practical, and all things considered i think shotaro arisawa does a really incredible job of embodying jonathan joestar even though he kind of looks like i could snap him in half over my knee like a twig. he’s very cute. so i’m not mad about it.) of course, again, logistically, i understand that in a stage musical production, where actors only have minutes to complete costume changes, some sacrifices have to be made to the creative vision in the name of practicality. nevertheless this is jojos bizarre adventure!! i want to see some fucking baubles!!!!!!

which is all to say that… after carefully considering it for some weeks… i still have extremely mixed feelings about dio’s grink ass feather bathrobe look. it’s not that i dont think its something he could wear (the concept of dio lounging around in his gothic vampire palace doing re-animator style body horror experiments on the local wildlife in this “officer i have no idea what happened to my husband”-ass nightgown is nothing short of hysterical to me) but then he wears it into combat and i felt a little disappointed… it has the same unflattering fit issue as the other outfits in the show, and it is just such an un-araki-like design… where are the gaudy color combinations? the bizarre geometric patterns? the tease of an exposed boob/thigh/midriff? erina gets a stage-original dress design that i have fewer issues with because the excessive pleats and ruffles have more of an araki-esque sensibility, but every time i look at dio’s robe it feels like there’s something missing.  i’m going to choose to be nice about it because it’s not at all a deal breaker and, again, mamoru miyano devours the look. it’s fine. it’s always fun to have a new dio outfit. if anything, the fact that the blu-rays are being marketed as “2024 cast version” gives me hope for the possibility of a future production with a new vision for the costume design. (although the fact that this was such a difficult production - with stunts and pyrotechnics and moving setpieces - that its entire first week was cancelled indicates to me that the prospects for a future production from a different company are impossibly slim. i guess there’s always hope?)

in terms of the writing and the changes that were made from the original narrative, honestly i don’t really have an issue with anything that was cut. sorry if there are any diehard stans of Poco’s Unnamed Sister out there who are steamed that their favorite minor late phantom blood character got the axe, i kind of understand how you feel because i’ve been malding over david pro cutting the Danny Lore for eleven years, but i think it was the right choice and the story flows so much better. the real juicy meat at the core of phantom blood as a narrative and the thing that brings it head and shoulders above so much of the rest of jjba is the character-driven drama - that deliciously pulpy victorian gothic family tragedy - and the relationship between jonathan and dio. the musical beefs up the character drama and slims down the action-driven second half by trimming out the extraneous battles. the only real downside i see to this is that the absence of tompetty and his prophecy makes zeppeli’s arc and death feel INSANELY abrupt, but tbf that’s not a deal breaker for me. sorry zeppeli. you were born to die.

okay. okay. i think 1500 words into the post is enough fucking around so let’s talk about the real reason why you and i both know we’re here

musical dio is SO fucking sad. he’s positively wretched, you guys. he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone and forced to eat cement when he was six. he cries even more than he does in the source material and even when he’s not crying he frequently delivers his lines as though he is moments away from bursting into tears. back when the musical first opened i was snooping on the reactions on jpn twitter and one commenter said they could see miyano’s tears and snot from the nosebleeds even without opera glasses, a remark i initially assumed was hyperbole but that i now think probably was not. araki’s dio is certainly tortured and a deeply pathetic crybaby beneath all the cruelty and posturing, but changes in the musical and miyano’s embodiment of the character bring this pathos to the fore. he is literally haunted: dario’s ghost lingers, a manifestation of all of dio’s traumas and insecurities that emerges from the recesses of his memory to taunt him with the reminder that he will always be his father’s son, all the way up until the very minute that jonathan breaks down the door to his vampire lair. i am OBSESSED with this - not only for the obvious reason that i delight in dio’s suffering personally but also because kong kuwata is a delight and he fucking kills it every time. also lends itself to a category 10 leitmotif moment at the top of the second act when dio emerges from the charred ruins of the joestar estate singing dario’s theme and calling out to jonathan - if i had to pinpoint this is probably the moment when this musical stuck for me as the Real Deal. they Get It.

the first solo number in the show is dio’s disney princess I Want song (amazingly, simply titled “dio”) where he weeps for his late mother and his wretched lot in life, and then - in a creative decision that made me clap my hands and hoot and holler at my screen in real life - there is a reprise of this number (delivered, naturally, through tears) when dio is almost arrested for murder and decides to become a vampire instead. so there’s this amazing hopeful uplifting inspirational orchestral music accompanying the onstage action of dio ruthlessly slaying jonathan’s dad and then getting pumped full of lead by a bunch of cops. it is brilliant. 10/10 no notes. it’s moments like this that i think really sell the “softening” of dio in the stage version for me, even though i am historically Not A Fan of fanworks that take a similar angle - like, yes, he is sad, but specifically he is narcissistically obsessed with the spectacle of his own suffering, he is boiling over with bitterness and rage for everyone around him who (by his own estimation) could never hope to have suffered as much as he has. this sensitivity and self-pity he wallows in are not expressions of a guilty conscience or a desire to change - they’re entirely the opposite - every cruel and monstrous deed dio commits is always justified to himself because he is simply the saddest little boy who has ever existed. he has been done wrong by the world and so there is no limit to the depravity he may reasonably respond with. i’ve seen several commenters describe this as a drastically different interpretation of the character from araki’s dio (and someone told me on twitter that mamoru miyano himself has also said this, but i cba to go digging for an actual source so take it with a grain of salt?), but i… dont think thats the case! dio’s obsession with his own weakness and his self-perception as the eternal underdog (as compared to jonathan) are certainly more exaggerated in miyano’s performance, but i don’t think this is an angle to the character that’s been manufactured out of whole cloth. the genre conventions of the stage musical force the melodrama up to eleven and dio’s incredibly repressed angst is the most rich vein to mine for that. hair-trigger sadist dio is still here, it’s the same guy, he’s still killing people mercilessly, you’re just getting to see him sing a big ballad about his feelings instead of confining those to an internal monologue.

if anything, the exaggeration of dio’s pathetic/cowardly/crybaby traits combined with his megalomaniacal aspirations and bottomless well of cruelty is just right. it’s perfect. fucking around, finding out, and then trying to weasel his way out of the consequences with crocodile tears just so you don’t see him drawing his knife to cut you clean open… yeah. thats the stuff. thats my one true blorbo. sad to say i will love him for ten thousand years.

i think that might be all i have to say… or at least all i feel like saying here… most likely ill come back and edit this post later. i certainly have some additional thoughts and some more esoteric/controversial takes but they’re not suited for a public blog. real ones will understand. im keeping my eyes peeled for somebody to translate this thing but to be frank i am kind of enjoying this little corner of fandom as it is right now: just the asians and the true hardcore phantom blood phreaks. i have not had this much fun in jojo fandom in almost a fucking decade. as soon as somebody publishes an english version my timelines going to get flooded with all the most deeply annoying “kono dio da” “speedwagon waifu” reddit guys and 15 year olds and my suffering will proceed. unfortunately this is my lot in life and i am doomed to be here forever because dio put a worm in my brain

#⚰️ #jjba tag for blacklisting purposes but i dont want this in the main tag

[im-still-watching-anime]

man does anyone else just constantly forget neji died?? i was rewatching the war arc and got to it like HUH OH YEAH like i remember shikaku and inoichi more than him because i just didn’t like the writing for his and repressed it too much so now whenever i see any reference to it my brain blue screens for like 20 seconds straight

#it simply does not compute #like don’t get me wrong im into tragedy and well written character deaths ALWAYS get me #but idk i just thought neji was a poor choice if you HAD to kill one of the konoha twelve off #not that i WANTED any of them to die but i do think someone else would have been a better option #or killing off more than one would have balanced it better #and then it was also just how it was crammed between all the other big events so we had to rush past it #shout out to the fillers always knowing naruto deaths aren’t striking hard enough and giving the dead characters more significance lol #can always tell someone is about to die when the fillers start giving them all the meaningful moments rip #idk though even the folllow up grieving and references just didn’t add enough #plus how it kind of just contradicted the main goal of the series idk #i just don’t like it so my brain is just like what death??? #probably would stick better if i ever rewatched post war or if i watched boruto though #but i dont so i continue to relive the ‘wtf why :/‘ every time i remember it lol #naruto shippuden spoilers #naruto spoilers #????? #does anyone need that tag??? #idk i added it in case

[thesunbrokeyourskull]

-

#I would kill my ex ‘p’ to become rich. #I would kill my ex ‘m’ to obtain even more beauty and attract even more people. #I would beat up my ex ‘b’ to the point of him almost dying to have a nice house and the best of the best of things. #I would beat up my bf ‘d’ to be more mentally stable so that I am balanced and at peace with myself and my life. #I would kill my ex ‘k’ to become a well known scholar who has many degrees in maths science and philosophy and to preform surgery&research #I would step on anybody to get to where I want to be in life if it meant making myself happy. #I just manipulated my bf into feeling bad for me because I genuinely just want to feel good and secure even if that’s at his expense. #he’s right.. I don’t care about anyone more than myself and I don’t think that’s a bad thing. why should I put someone above myself? #I’ll tell you what.. until someone can show me that being a good honest generous person can get me anywhere I’ll keep doing what works :) #grey god #puppets #and I genuinely just don’t like or care for others. there’s always something I want in return when it comes to relationships with others. #I find humans disgusting and faulty and I don’t care if I add to their pain because it’s usually to benefit me and if it doesn’t it’s to- #-get back at others for hurting me. or I’m bored. I probably have the most sick and twisted mind of anyone I know. I think people know that #-tho but they still keep me around and help me out whenever I need it. it’s all a show for me and for them. people are so stupid and they #-genuinely think doing the right think helps them. it doesn’t. it’s kind of sad. I just know that once ‘d’ realizes I’ve taken him for - #-everything he’s got it’ll be too late and he’ll have to deal with how much better I am than him and how much I’ve grown leeching off of- #-his emotional labor. I just jump from one person to another taking what I want and what I can. I don’t think I’ve genuinely loved anyone. #I’ve always been this way. I almost love people but then I just truly don’t. it’s more fun to see how far I can break them before #-they can’t do it anymore. I hope that everyone I’ve ever hurt continues to hurt forever and that they never grown or evolve. #’d’ told me tonight that I ruined his life. ‘b’ told me I ruined him. ‘m’ is a coward and he said he’ll never love again. #’k’ is a used up simple minded loser. ‘p’ is a stunted delusion addict with me issues for the rest of his life. notice I said me issues and #not daddy or mommy issues lol. I have tricked them all. they are all pathetic and whimpy fucks. #the day I grinded against ‘d’s sluty ass again after I ‘raped him’ he told me to go slow but it made me think.. what if I just raped him? #I could just do it and he won’t do shit about it. he’ll forgive me like always. he’s an insecure loser. I wanted to just take my dick- #and shove it down his throat and then ruin his hole with it #but I didn’t. I respected what he said but the fact that I thought about it isn’t good.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Capture the Flag

luke castellan x reader

pt 2

A/N: now that i'm writing for other fandoms, feel free to let me know if you only want to be on a hotd taglist. But now, please enjoy the strongest swordsman in camp halfblood

TW: MAJOR SMUT, slight bondage, rough smut, violence, lowkey dark(ish)!luke

word count: 1,699 words

You want Luke Castellan’s head speared on your sword.

It’s like you spend every minute preparing for capture the flag because of him. He spends every last minute of each game cutting down your teammates and stealing your flag, so now it’s time to change the tactic. You ditch your father’s usual battle advice of going for the kill and hope that defence is the best offence for once. You also pray that he will guide your sword anyhow. So there you stand, guarding your flag with two of your most vicious teammates. You dodge the blue team’s first attack that was supposed to draw you off. You may have a short temper but you aren’t stupid. And you’re more than pleased to see the look of surprise on Luke’s face as he approaches.

“Fucking Ares kids.” He grumbles, sword drawn.

“Were you not expecting me, Castellan?” You ask with a vengeful smirk.

He goes right for you. You’re the biggest threat there but he likes to think you’re not even close to his skill level. You would believe that the man plans to cut you down and then your teammates. He always aims for the glory of it all.

“How’s your team gonna get our flag if you’re here?” He asks as he makes the first swing. It’s much better to start off on offence and he’s the one coming at you.

“Who cares. When you’re done, so is your team.” You block him, hating to be on defence but he’s too quick.

“Gods, you didn’t plan ahead of that? There really isn’t anything in that pretty little head of yours, is there? Other than rage of course.”

  You’re a hothead. He knows it. You know it and it doesn’t take much to rile you up. When you’re riled up, you get sloppy. At this point, you don’t care if he guts you, you go for the little fucker’s ankles. You’re actually surprised when he stumbles from blocking your attack. It’s a stupid mistake, especially for him. Though, you aren’t going to let a chance like this slip by. You keep pushing him back, trying to leave him no chance to think in between swings. He trips over a log behind him, the sword falling from his hand. He has no chance now, not on the ground and you won’t be letting him get up.

“Who’s the idiot now?” 

He looks at you as you approach slowly, taunting him. He then grabs his sword and makes a break for it. You’re too shocked to even keep him down.

What the fuck.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke Castellan run from a fight. Not in your 4 years at camp. So you chase after him.

He’s fast, faster than you but you push yourself. He trails away… and away. Then you lose him. 

“Godsdamnit!” You scream into the woods as you jog around where you last saw him. 

You know you can’t stray for long if you’re not fighting Luke so you turn to make your way back to the flag. That’s when he jumps out at you with his sword swinging. You barely have time to block and it puts you off your balance. He swings at you again and again. You fall as you continue to block the merciless strikes. You’re practically holding your sword in the air and hoping for the best. The best doesn’t come as the weapon flies from your hand. He descends on you, straddling your waist as he holds the blade to your throat. He’s smirking.

“You don’t try nearly hard enough.” He says to you. “I know you’re not very clever but hades, my teammates probably already have the flag over the barrier.” 

That’s when you realize how easily you were deceived. Luke didn’t run from you because you bested him; he ran to draw you off. It was a pathetically simple plan and it worked. The heat rises to your cheeks from humiliation. He grabs your two hands and pins them above your head, his grip gentle but also firm.

“I’ll put you in your grave.” You spit out at him.

“Will you now? While I have you essentially restrained?” He’s clearly amused.

You struggle beneath him with all your force but all you manage to do is roll your hips against him, earning a groan from the man. You feel it too, the burning ache between your thighs. You want him. Worse yet, he wants you.

“Let me up.” 

“No. I think you quite like how I have you pinned to the ground.” He smirks.

“You’re delusional.”

“You’re wet.”

He slips a knee between your thighs and rubs it against your clothed pussy. It takes everything in you not to whimper.

“S-Stop.” You stutter out.

“Make me.” He murmurs, continuing to make you grind down on his knee as he leans down and forces you into a hot kiss. You hate how you kiss back, so hungry for him. Your mind is clouded with lust for a moment before you realize the advantage he is giving you. You never technically conceded.

As swiftly as you can, you wrap your free leg around his waist and use your whole strength to throw him off you, startling him enough to free your hands.

“You bitch.” He groans as you jab him in the stomach to try and give yourself enough time to grab your sword but it doesn’t work. He grabs you by the ankle and yanks hard. You slam to the ground right on your stomach. He moves to restrain you by sitting on your thighs so you can’t move your legs and holds your hands behind your back. You clearly didn’t consider how inevitably stronger he is than you.

“Shit.” You whine. His hold isn’t nearly as gentle this time.

“That was a cheap fucking shot.” He says cruelly. He’s pissed now.

“Fuck you. Castellan!” Gods it goes straight to his dick when you call him by his last name. He grips your hair with his free hand and pulls back hard so you have to look at him. You whine again at the sharp pain.

“You just can’t play fair, can you, princess? Maybe I won’t either then.”

 He drops your head and you hear him rustling with something. You realize it’s his belt when you feel the leather against your wrists. He’s binding you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice is full of rage but to him, you just sound petulant. 

 “What you need.” Is his simple answer.

He shifts down so he sits, or rather kneels, with your legs between his. He’s amused by your renewed writhing as an attempt to escape. It is pitiful really. Oh well, he’ll have you writhing for a different reason soon enough.

His fingertips glide across your waist, to your hips and then to your thighs, causing your back to arch upwards slightly, your stomach dipping. He brings his lips down to your ear, his voice is deep and lustful as he says, “Your body seems to know what it wants.”

“I’ll kill you.” You promise.

“Oh, i’m sure you will. But right now, you fucking belong to me.” He yanks on your hair again so you have to look at him and your eyes water from the pain. “I think you like me hurting you.” His other hand slips between your thighs to rub your clit and you let out a strangled moan. “For a girl who is so controlling, it’s interesting how badly you enjoy me manhandling you.”

He yanks your pants down and slips your helmet under your hips so your ass stays high in the air with your chest to the ground.

“This is fucked up.” You say.

“You love it. Your panties are soaked.” And he’s completely right. You’ve never been so turned on before but not a lot of men are as strong and good-looking as Luke Castellan.

He pulls your panties down and groans at the sight of your dripping pussy. He begins to palm himself through his pants and unzips them. “You have about three seconds to tell me if you don’t actually want this.”

You are silent and he chuckles. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

Before you can even prepare yourself or form a thought, his fat cock is shoved inside of you, splitting you open.

“Ah, Luke!” You moan at the pain and pleasure.

“Gods, this is the tightest little pussy i’ve had.” He begins to fuck in and out of you relentlessly, giving you no time to adjust. “Yeah, you’re good for me now, baby. Such a good little cocksleeve.” He punctuates his last words with hard thrusts, the head of his cock bullying into you each time.

All you can do is repeat his name like a mantra as you get pounded on the forest floor by the strongest swordsman in camp. It’s even worse as he begins to rub your clit again, sending you so close to the edge.

“Never gonna have enough of you after this.” Luke murmurs as he feels you squeezing around him. “My good girl.” 

That’s what sends you tumbling over the edge, bringing Luke with you as you do. He never could’ve kept going, not with the way your walls were squeezing around him. He pulls out almost instantly so he can watch his cum spill out of you. He doesn’t wipe it. He just pulls your panties back on and fixes the both of you up. You’re thoroughly spent, he can tell by the way you pant as he releases your wrists.

“You okay?” He asks as he helps you sit up. He grabs your hands so he can kiss the marks on your wrists. After all you’ve done, that’s the act that makes you blush furiously. 

“Um, yeah.” You breathe out.

“I’ll be nicer next time, I promise. Somebody just had to put you in your place first.” He grins wolfishly.

“Next time?” 

That’s when you hear the horn. The blue team has won again.

He pecks a kiss to your cheek. “Time to claim my kleos.” He says cockily before jogging off to meet his team.

taglist (comment to be added):General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo x reader #luke castellan smut #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians

[sunaluv]

'IS SHE TAKEN?'

in which someone asks your man if you're single

feat: ran, gojo

RAN

the club setting was filled with more excitement tonight. don't get it twisted, any club or event hosted by the haitanis was guaranteed to be the event of the day, good vibes, hot people, and lots of money to be made. but when one of the brothers was actually present at the club? something about their aura seemed to bring out the vibes in people.

ran's hooded gaze watched adoringly at you across the club, the setting bringing nostalgia to the first time you met. ever the social butterfly you were, accepting another phone number from one of the girlfriends you made tonight. the other members of the roundtable looked at one another, wondering if the haitani brother was even present.

"no wonder you're so distracted, boss," the man next to him nudged him with his elbow, to which ran side-eyed him. "she's a looker, d'ya think she's single?"

your boyfriend appeared neutral as he let the guy ramble on about how hot you were, and what he would do to you given the chance. he missed the harsh roll of ran's eyes. if he didn't know you were spoken for, he would make sure this guy knew by the end of the night.

as if on queue, you waved bye to your new friends and started to make your way to the table. eyes followed your figure as you passed, but that was to be expected when the prettiest girl at the club walked past.

"hey, sweetheart," his soft lips pressed against the crown of your head. "you alright?"

"i'm good! a little tired though," you let out a deep sigh, melting into his arms. "these heels have been killing me..."

wordlessly, his large hands had your ankles in his lap, undoing the buckles on your heels and rubbing tender circles into the irritated skin.

he smirked at the relieved sigh that left your lips. "my buddy here has something to ask you, sweets."

the man next to you seemed to go silent since your arrival at the table, the consequences of his actions just hitting. a deep breath followed by a gulp as he wiped his damp hands against his slacks. he almost flinched when your hooded, yet dominating gaze met his own eyes, but after remembering who and where he was, he gained his composure almost as quickly as it left.

"nah 'ts nothin'," he waved his hand. "just a passing thought, is all..."

others both around the roundtable and those dancing near it tried not to make it obvious that they were watching the exchange going down. they found themselves pitying a character who would not deserve it, under different circumstances. but, as discussed, the haitani aura seems to throw things off of balance.

if he didn't want to talk, ran would do it for him. "he wants to know if your single, claims he could give you a lay better than your man could,"

your eyes left the man, instead looking over your boyfriends face in silent communication.

'you and i both know he can't'

'...i know, my love, just humor me every once in a while?'

'you're such a character sometimes, haitani'

'you love it though'

eyes darted between you, awaiting your response, thus his sentence in anticipation. he didn't know what telepathic language you were communicating in, but he was glad to not hear his fate get discussed right in front of him.

"i'm very flattered, but i have a boyfriend, sorry." your response was dry towards him, but the gaze you held with ran was anything but.

catching wind of what was about to happen, you excused yourself from the table, leaving a kiss on the corner of rans mouth, whispering a 'be good' in his ear before leaving.

whatever happened after your departure was not your business, after all.

GOJO

"hey man," a hand belonging to an unfamiliar man clasped on satorus shoulder. "do you know if the girl you came here with has a boyfriend?"

you had dragged your boyfriend to one of your friend's parties, much to his dismay. he's sworn off drinking after geto's blackmail folder started getting a bit thick, meaning there was nothing fun to do other than socialise, but he didn't want to after people flocked to him for the wrong reasons.

so now he was maybe the only sober one in this lively scene, which leads to the current events.

he spoke your name for clarity. "uhh, I'm not sure. you can go ask her if you want. ill even put in a good word for you."

has this man been a fraction more sober, he would've questioned why the blindfolded man's smile was so wide, or why he was so willing to help, but alas, this was a party and alcohol was supplied.

"thanks, dude! you're such a lifesaver."

satoru almost felt bad for the guy. he was practically buzzing whilst traversing through the sweaty bodies in search of you. he felt bad until he remembered how bored he was before this happened, he has to put himself first sometimes.

after a couple stumbles, reroutes and a rest break, they had finally found you in your angelic beauty, laughing with a group of girls he didn't know.

he thought it was quite cute how the guy seemed to become more shy at the sight of you, and satoru couldn't blame him. had he been someone more normal, he would act the same in your presence.

one of the girls caught sight of the pair by the entry and gestured you towards them. your face softened slightly at the sight of your six-foot-something boyfriend and his... friend?

"hey toru," you smiled, before looking at the other man. "who’s this?"

satoru said nothing, slapping the guy a little too harshly on the back before stepping back. the floor was his.

"hey," he breathed out, before introducing himself. "i saw you come in with your friend earlier, and just wanted to know if you were seeing anyone?"

your heart rate picked up, but not for the reason the guy was hoping. why was gojo like this? did he enjoy seeing you suffer?

he obviously did as when you looked over your shoulder to the said man, he gave you a big, encouraging grin with both thumbs up. the audacity.

he had thrown you to the wolves and left you to fend for yourself.

"uhm..." you breathed, trying not to shatter the poor guy's heart. "i have a boyfriend, unfortunately. sorry."

"what do you mean, unfortunately!" satoru mocked you from behind the guy. "I'm a total catch, right?" he turned to the guy. "right??"

though delayed, the guy had finally come to the realisation he had been punked by the man who egged him on the whole time. his face burst into a deep shade of red, apologising profusely before rushing back into the crowd.

"you're such an ass, gojo."

"the last name huh?" he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm in for it arent i?"

#tokyo revengers x reader #jjk x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tr x reader #haitani ran imagines #ran x reader #ran haitani x reader #haitani ran x reader #tokyo revengers headcannons #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen #tokyo rev drabbles #tokyo revengers imagine

[gojonanami]

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 - 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

summary: it's gojo's birthday, and he can't help but reflect on what birthdays have meant to him over the years, especially the year you decide you don't really want to do anything for his birthday (but it turns out you do).

contents: angst then fluff, i promise there's a happy ending, you just have to earn it, shibuya does not happen in this timeline, instead we celebrate gojo, slightly angsty, reflections on events of jjk 0, crack, all of gojo's students (aside yuta and hakari and rirara make an appearance), mentions of sex/pregnancy, innuendo

word count: 2,821

December 7, 1989. 

A day that had changed the balance of the jujutsu world irrevocably — the day Satoru Gojo had burst onto the scene. 

But to Satoru, the anniversary of that day had meant nothing to him for most of his life. It was another day in the calendar — the caretakers from the Gojo clan cared not for his birthday, as they did his development as the head and face of the Gojo clan. He had received the best of everything — the best foods, the best training, the best room in the compound. 

At least, the strongest sorcerer had. 

Satoru Gojo had barely received anything more than reverent bows, averted gazes, and hushed whispers — and he saw them all, with the six eyes he never had asked for. And Satoru Gojo had grown up without affection or anything of the sort — to the point where he had thought he was simply beyond that — love, compassion, or friendship — no, the only thing he had was duty. 

And birthdays only served as a marker that he had lived another year. 

Until they meant something more — when he had met Suguru, Shoko, and you. And then it had meant something for a little while. It meant a celebration with his friends — with a cake that you and Suguru had hastily made after a mission, while Shoko hung decorations (with the help of one of Suguru’s curses reaching the high points). It had meant forcing Nanami to wear a party hat against his will (Shoko and Haibara’s doing), and Satoru inevitably smearing cake on your face to start an all out food fight (which only ended with Satoru getting scolded and smacked on the head by Yaga, even on his birthday). And it meant you, Suguru, and Shoko giving him his first real birthday present — something he had never received in fifteen years of living. It meant something more. 

Until it didn’t, again. 

Because, now, it was another year he had spent without his best friend. Another year he watched other sorcerers die. Another year he had to spend apart from you and Shoko because you or he had been sent on missions while Shoko was stuck in the infirmary or the morgue. 

And now, this year it was the first time he had a birthday that Suguru wouldn’t age. He would never age again. He would stay 28 forever, and Satoru — he didn’t know what age he’d turn. He hoped he would die before old age or disease took him — he rather not live long enough for that. Although you and Suguru always joked that he would be even better looking as an old man. 

But all Satoru could think about was growing old alone — without anyone else around him. He was the strongest after all, how could anyone else survive? People around him were killed off one by one — and he was left all alone. And maybe that’s why he didn’t like birthdays — it was just another year, another year older — another year marking who had left him. 

And so many did. 

And how many birthdays would pass until he lost another? Would it be one of his students? Would it be Nanami? Would it be Shoko? Would it be you? 

You…you were someone he couldn’t bear to lose. He had already lost you once. Pushed you away after Geto defected, pushed himself into work until he was burnt out, and pushed away any thoughts that he had of you. It didn’t last. It wasn’t a year until you had battered at his walls and his actual door, forcing your way back into his life. 

And he was thankful you did, because he didn’t know if he would have found his way out of the hole he had dug himself in — before the dirt covered and buried him. 

You — you would never let his birthday go. You never let him go a year without making him feel special, in one way or another. Last year, you had baked him his favorite cake, took him on a trip to a hot spring, and made arrangements to make sure the two of you weren’t disturbed the entire weekend (which was a feat of miracles on par with his six eyes and limitless itself). 

“C’mon, just tell meeeee,” 

And the strongest sorcerer’s snatching your gradebook out of your hand for the millionth time, and you surely look unamused, brow knit together, as you rub your temples, “You know living with you is worse than a child,” 

“Wanna test your theory? I could fill you up right now and nine months—” 

“I’m going to murder you,” and he only shrugs, all too smug. 

“You’d miss me too much,” and he adds, “plus I know you’re strong, but you couldn’t—” 

“Finish that sentence and you’re sleeping on the couch all week, I don’t care if it is your birthday tomorrow,” and he meets your gaze, and you’re unwavering, as he sighs, and hands over your grade book. 

“We really aren’t doing anything?” your husband asks, raising a single eyebrow curiously, “you always have something up your sleeve, sweetheart,” 

You frown, setting your grade book aside, “I just thought with everything going on — Yuji’s appearance, the special grades running around — I don’t think we should be away right now, and I thought we could do something small, just you and me,” 

He nods slowly, a smile shoddily crafted and pasted on his lips, “Yeah, bet if I leave, the higher ups may try to pull something on Yuji,” he sighs dramatically, leaning his head back on the couch, “what a curse to be the strongest,” 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “you sure you’re okay with not doing anything?” 

“Of course,” he finds your lips in a kiss.  

But why wasn’t he? 

He wasn’t one to care for things like this. He thought he was beyond caring about things like this. But all he could feel was the festering urge of disappointment seeping into his thoughts. Even the next day, the universe seemed to be against him, sent on a wild goose chase mission to hunt down a supposed special grade only to find two grade A curses that he took care of with ease. 

He trodded back home to you — lips still in a pout that he couldn’t even enjoy his morning with you on his birthday. He didn’t even get to enjoy cuddling with you — woken up to travel across the country to deal with some curses he didn’t need to handle. 

It didn’t used to be like this — sent off to do missions alone. Again and again. Heavy was the head that bore the crown, but no one had mentioned how lonely it was. Lonely even surrounded by those who tried to understand him — and he had you, he had you, but how could anyone truly see him for who he was — when he didn’t feel like he knew who he was anymore. Suguru’s question still rang in his ears — was he the strongest because he was Gojo Satoru, or was he Gojo Satoru because he was the strongest? 

And all these years later, he still didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know if he would ever know the answer. 

But he didn’t have time to linger on his thoughts as he spotted his home in the distance, but that wasn’t all he saw — there was a lot more cursed energy at home than usual — multiple people in his home, and his lips curled. 

He sneaks up, diminishing his presence to nothing, as he pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear them — 

“Too high, Itadori, lower!” Nobara barked, and Yuuji groaned, “come on, how long is it gonna take you to do this?” 

“Then why don’t you get up here and do it?” he snaps back, and Nobara scoffs. 

“I’m supervising, that’s why,” 

“EH? Who else are you supervising besides me?” 

“Stop messing around you two, and get the banner hung,” Megumi sighs, and Satoru could imagine him scowling, “Inumaki-senpai, do you need more balloons?” 

“Salmon,” 

“Maki, hurry up with cutting those strawberries, Nanami is almost done frosting the cake,” Satoru could hear Panda chewing and then a distinct THUNCK. 

“THEN STOP EATING THEM YOU DAMN ANIMAL!” 

“Alright, alright, stop fighting guys,” Satoru heard you sigh, “Nanami, I hope the frosting and cakes I baked were decent — I followed the recipe you gave me to a tee,” 

“You did a good job from what I could tell, but I’m pretty sure you could feed that idiot a plain cup of sugar, and he’d like it just the same,” and Satoru pouts, hearing Shoko laugh as well. 

“Especially if it’s from you,” Shoko teases you, as you scoff playfully, “can’t believe you two got married still — won’t be long until there are little Gojos running around, if Satoru has his way, with the way he’s been railing you,”

“Can we change the subject?” Nanami asks, disgust evident. 

You only chuckle, “Well, he’s insisted that we start trying once things settle down, saying it never hurts to practice, but—” and then your phone chimes, “Yaga said Toru’s on his way back for a while, he should be close.” 

There’s a mad dash and scramble as they put everything in its place, and Satoru leans against the side of the house — they even put up a curtain to hide their cursed energy on the inside, prioritizing invisibility. 

And Satoru grins  — all this for him? 

“Let me video call him and see where he is — I think I can distract him enough,” and he teleports down the road from his home, as your phone call comes through, “hi birthday boy, are you almost home?” 

“Almost,” he hums, “need something, sweetheart?” 

“Just my lovely husband home so I can cuddle him,” you smile, and he can see you’re walking into your shared bedroom now, sound of the door closing behind you, “got a surprise on for you under this dress,” 

And he’s pausing, “is that right?” And the party ebbs away from his mind, as your fingers slid the straps of your dress down, and teasing the baby blue and white lingerie set underneath, “my perfect birthday gift — all ready for me to unwrap?” 

“As soon as you get home,” and all blood flees his brain and heads southward, “I’ll be waiting,” 

And you disconnect the call — and he’s rushing now, party be damned. He would have you in bed, even if he had to sneak away with you upstairs for five minutes. 

He unlocks the door, and hears several bangs from poppers, as all of his students, colleagues, and friends shout “surprise!” And he smiles, glancing around at the birthday decorations, the birthday cake precariously balanced in Yuji’s hands, and you — grinning right at the front of the group, holding a bouquet of red roses. 

Everyone is stepping up to wish him a happy birthday, even grumbling happy birthdays from Megumi and Maki, as his arms curl around you after, “did I fool you?” 

And he only smiles, “I’m always a fool for you, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, only yielding disgusted groans from most of your students, “and don’t think I forgot about my present,” he whispers, while pressing a quick kiss to your cheek, “I have a feeling I’ll be tearing off the wrapping soon enough,” he winks. 

You roll your eyes, “Party first, presents later,” your hand finds his as you take him to mingle. 

Satoru doesn’t get his wish of a secret rendezvous with you — but he does get several other gifts from his students — a blue ray of Human Earthworm 4 from Yuji, Crocs from Nobara (“they’re as tacky as you are”), Megumi gives a gift card (Yuji: “No creativity,” Nobara: “Seriously how boring,” and Yuji earns a fist to the head from Megumi). The second years’ pitched in and bought him a book on ‘how to date’ (“it was Yuta’s idea — he’s not sure you know how to date even after getting married”). 

He’s being pulled over to cut the cake that Yuji miraculously only dropped once (but Maki had luckily caught), you at his side, as everyone crowds around for him to cut it, and he thinks, maybe he doesn’t need to be understood as the strongest — maybe he can just be understood as Satoru Gojo, and that can be enough. 

And he blows out his candles, as your fingers interlaced with his, and he’s cutting a particularly big chunk to feed you, nearly smearing it over your lips, “What did you wish for—umph—” and he’s kissing you, the sweet frosting didn’t compare to the sweetness of your lips, your fingers finding his shoulder, and he barely hears the groans of his students, parting as you softly pant, beautiful smile spread on your face, “Toru—” 

“I have everything I could wish for,” and he’s pressing his forehead to yours, before you kiss his nose, only to drag some frosting across his cheek, “oi!” 

“That’s for smearing cake all over my face,” you brush the crumbs from your chin, and he only grins wider. 

As he’s pulling you close with an arm around your waist, his breath warm against your lips, “Will you help clean it off?” and you roll your eyes, as his students grimace at his words, booing him. 

You only give a small smile, and kiss his cheek, whispering, “...after they leave,” and they do soon enough, after everyone enjoys their slice of cake and a few drinks (Yuji sneaking a glass of wine when Nanami isn’t looking), they leave to go back home. 

Satoru collapses on the couch first, and then you toss yourself beside him, throwing your legs over his lap, “Tired?” you curl yourself against him, your head finding his shoulder, nose brushing against the warm nape of his neck. 

“Was that mission earlier your doing?” 

“Well how else would I get you out of the house with all your pestering? And knowing you, you would have kept me in bed all morning,” and he laughs, as his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you properly into his lap. 

“How’d you see my birthday wish list?” and you scoff, as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “you still have one more gift to give me, one that you teased me with earlier,” and his fingers are creeping up your bare thigh, squeezing teasingly at your flesh. 

“Two more, actually,” and he’s tilting his head, as you grab the bouquet of flowers from the coffee table where he had left it, “you missed something in here,” 

And he’s smiling, as he pulls a small box nestled in the middle of the roses, “What’s this—” and his fingers are too quick for his question, as he’s met with your gift. 

Positive. 

He stares — stares if it would disappear before his eyes, that somehow the six eyes were wrong this one time — the one time it mattered. 

“Are you really surprised with all the practice we’ve been getting in?” and he gives a brief chuckle, shaking his head, as you chew your lip at his relative silence, “wow, have I rendered the great Satoru Gojo — the man who never shuts up even when he should — speechless?” he still says nothing, “Toru? Say somethin—” 

And his arms are wrapping you in a hug, pulling you fully into his lap, as he engulfs you in his warmth, burying his face in the crook of your neck, “Are you sure I’m the father?” 

You snort, “Satoru, I swear to god, I’m going—” 

And his lips find yours in a sweet kiss, palms cupping your cheeks, as his blue eyes swim with a happiness you’d rarely seen before, as he presses kisses all over your face, until he’s kneeling before your stomach, pressing a sweet kiss to it. 

“You better look like your mom or I’m going to demand a re-do,” 

You huff, “Satoru, we aren’t having another kid for at least three years—” 

“We didn’t mean to have a kid right now, but we are,” he gives a devilish smirk, before you cross your arms, unamused. 

“I swear, we have another kid before three years are up, and I’m sleeping in a separate bedroom,” and his arms are looping around your waist to pull you close. 

“You can’t resist me for that long,” and he’s pulling into a kiss again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your lips part. 

“Try me,” and he pouts before you laugh, tugging him to the bedroom, “come on, birthday boy, I believe I owe you one last present,” and his lips are curled again as he follows you eagerly, your dress over your head and on the bedroom floor before he’s two steps into the room. 

December 7, 2018. 

A day that changed the balance of Satoru Gojo’s family life — for the better. 

a/n: this was supposed to be pure fluff but turned into angst / fluff - as always. i can't write anything w/o angst.

tag list: @merzel69695, @senseiigojo, @forest-fruits-jam, @forest-hashira, @amanemisamisa, @ririthedevil, @a1is0n-png, @chosomoso, @hawkwithsocks, @aliyalala, @icecubesaredelicous, @sugurusdiscordmoderator, @acewoo, @sodoney,

#sab [mlist] #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #dividers by @/saradika

[risuola]

HEADACHE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori

Your head has been killing you all day but you tried to play it off as nothing to not worry your boyfriend, but he noticed and didwhat he could to ease your suffering.

cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna, reader is in pain (duh), things like SA and su1cide are mentioned (nothing discriptive though), there is like, one slightly suggestive joke I guess? it's fluff, let me remind you! — 1,7k words

a/n: yet another fluffed out piece of writing for the king, because I love him struggling to keep his authority, alright? there are also so many fics where Sukuna is just purely violent that I feel like him being everything but violent is very much in demand and I love him more gentle 🖤 i also often get headaches like the one described so it was my inspo, kinda.

It hurt. Your head had been killing you since this morning and slowly it was getting to the point where you couldn't even move. It felt like a storm had been raging inside your skull for hours, you couldn't think, couldn't eat, couldn't concentrate on anything all day, and three painkillers didn't help at all. Your vision was blurry, your balance was off, everything seemed too loud, too close, too bright, too intense. You wanted to scream, you cried, and even begged whatever there is in the universe to just take this pain away.

"I can't," you whispered, crying quietly into your pillow as night fell. "I can't, I can't..." You tried not to wake Yuji, you even acted like it hurt less than it really did, just so he wouldn't worry, but now you couldn't hold it anymore. Your hands were shaking, your vision went black, and you wanted to die.

You got up, quietly and carefully, and slowly padded to the bathroom, feeling your way through the walls because your vision wasn't reliable anymore, and you put your head under the ice-cold water. Unpleasant shivers ran down your spine, your breath came short, but you stayed there, begging the university to ease the agony. And it did, for a moment. It all came back when you threw a towel over your head, unable to withstand the cold anymore. There was no point, you were dying, there was no other way.

Defeated, you dried your hair as best you could and went back to bed, where the moment you laid down, Yuji's arm found its place over your middle. He was still asleep, thankfully, and you pushed a pillow over your face and dived into the darkness.

"Is this suicide?", a voice that you only hoped was the creation of your mind reached your ears and you ignored it for the time being. Yuji was sleeping, he didn't move his hand from over your belly, he couldn't... "It's unwise to ignore me."

"Please, I can't do this now..." you whispered and took the pillows away. It was wet with tears, and so was your face when you looked at him. It was Sukuna, but it seemed like he had very little control over Itadori's body. Or maybe he intentionally kept you close to him so that you would die of a heart attack, but the sudden rush of blood that made your heart pump much faster than usual only made you feel worse.

"You can't do what?"

"Why are you here?" you asked, wiping your face.

"I love watching people suffer, and you seem to be just the kind of show I'd enjoy."

"Of course you do..."

"What is the source of your pain?"

"My head hurts. So fucking bad."

"Poor little human," he chuckled, lifting his head and resting it on his hand for a better view. In any other situation you would have pushed him away, tried to distance yourself, but now you had no power to fight back, so you stayed where you were, in the emotionless embrace of a curse that lives inside your boyfriend.

"If you stepped out to enjoy my pain, please go fuck yourself. Not the best timing, curse."

"How rude," he chuckled, "as if you were in a position to speak to me like that. I can slice you to ribbons before that brat even thinks of taking control back. Oh, imagine how devastated he would be to wake up to the bloody mess of his little girlfriend."

"Oh, sure. How creative, threatening me with death, very original. Perhaps you should surprise me and use your little hocus pocus to ease the pain I feel instead of scaring me."

"You want me, the King of Curses, to heal a human?"

"Kindness would be a good look on you."

"Oh, you're so desperate," he laughed and you covered your eyes with your forearm, already tired of his shit. The silence hurt you, not to mention his amused tone.

"Get lost, Sukuna," you muttered. "If you're not going to help, then stay quiet."

"And who are you to order me around?" his long fingers clawed at your chin, forcing your head in his direction, and you lowered your arm to look at him. Red eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the night, but he looked calm. "Hmm? Little human, have you forgotten where your place is?"

"I know where my place is, but you're in my bed now, so the only rules that apply here are mine."

"What a mouth," he chuckled again. "I can make this headache worse, you know."

"By annoying me to death? You're doing great at that."

It really wasn't wise to push Sukuna's buttons like that, your luck was definitely going to run out sooner or later, and even if you thought you wanted to die because of the headache, that wasn't really what you wished for.

"Sukuna, please, don't be a dick, help a human out."

"Oh, but watching you in pain is so much more entertaining."

"Have you ever tried to be nice, or is the concept foreign?"

"Being nice doesn't hold any power."

"Oh, but it does. When people truly respect you, not because they're scared, that's a different kind of power. And you like power, right?"

"I'm the strongest, I don't care what maggots think of me as long as they kneel in fear."

"If those people are maggots, doesn't that make you like a maggot king or something?"

"Oh, you're pushing your luck."

"Sure, whatever," you smack his hand away from your face and put the pillow back over it. If he's not going to be helpful, what was the point of paying attention to him? Just because he wants it doesn't mean he has to get it.

"And now you plan to ignore me?"

With no answer, you just pressed the plush item harder to your face, hoping that the pressure would soothe you even a little, but no luck.

Sukuna achieved his goal of making your heart beat even faster when he suddenly climbed on top of you, pinning you under his body and throwing the pillow away. Both of your hands he pressed to the bed with only one of his own, and you looked at him with a combination of surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of fear. This was not an ideal situation in any universe.

"What now?"

"Oh, don't be so scared, you wanted me to help you, right?"

"I fail to notice where the helping part is..."

"You humans fail to notice a lot of things."

Ryomen continued to touch you, but his touch felt anything but intimate. It burned, it felt targeted when his palm brushed against your knees or your inner thigh. Wherever he pressed, you felt some pain.

"What on earth are you doin-"

"I advise you to shut up before I change my mind."

And so you did, still unsure of what was happening. Why was this man touching your skin when you could have sworn, he wasn't interested in any kind of human physical touch. He was toying with you, enjoying the way your heart was racing in your chest, how you struggled to free your hands from his relentless grasp, and how you tried so hard to stay calm when he knew your mind was racing 180 miles per hour and off the cliff.

"Such a simple human," he mocked, his fingers brushing way too close to your underwear to go unnoticed, and your hips bucked up to create just a little more distance. This had to be another kind of torture and he was having fun making you so pliable. His eyes never left your face and you struggled to maintain eye contact. "What if I opened a mouth on the palm of my hand right now?" he teased, and you didn't get the subtext at first, but once you did, the vision struck you in a way it shouldn't have.

"Christ, you're more perverted than I suspected a curse would be," you muttered, turning your head to the side, creating an opening for him to kiss the tear off your cheek.

"You don't know much about curses, sweetheart," he laughed directly into your ear, brushing it with his lips as he moved his hand higher, sliding it under your blouse to your hip. "There are some mindless curses out there that only focus on sexually abusing their victims." This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. But his tone didn’t change, he was amused more than anything. "But I'm not a simple, horny curse, don't be so afraid. I'm the king."

"For a king, you do kinda often need to remind people about it..." you muttered, breathing in and out, focusing on this simple thing to avoid turning into a mess.

"Remember my advice?"

"Yup."

You closed your mouth and a wave of pulsating pain washed over your whole body again, radiating from your head as if a bomb had just exploded here. You closed your eyes tightly, tears once again threatening to flow from under your squeezed eyelashes. It hurt so much that you couldn't think straight, everything was blurry and you had trouble even recognizing the man above you. You wanted to pull your hands out of his hold, to put them on your temples, to do anything to ease the throbbing ache, but he wouldn't let you.

His hand pressed against your forehead. A moment later, the grip on your wrists loosened and the man rolled off you, taking a place beside you and pulling you into his chest. When you opened your eyes, no sign of black marks met your sight.

"Did he help you?" Yuji asked, his voice soft and cooing, but with worry clearly intertwined with his words. "Does it still hurt?"

"Huh?"

"Your head, does it hurt?"

"No... You asked him for it?"

"Yeah... I noticed you were in pain today, but you tried to play it off as nothing. And you didn't sleep and cried and I saw how many pills you took and still hurt," he spoke so softly, kissing your head tenderly and caressing your back with care and affection. "I'm sorry, I guess he had to scare you a little because, you know... ego."

"Thank you, baby," you pressed your lips to his chest, nuzzling into him even more.

"Oh, don't be, you know I'd do anything for you."

Next day you noticed that every bruise you had on your body wasn’t there anymore. Every hurt you earned through your every day clumsiness and trainings disappeared.

So that’s why Sukuna was touching you.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #itadori #itadori yuji #itadori fluff #itadori yuji fluff #itadori x you #itadori yuji x you #itadori x reader #itadori yuji x reader #itadori imagines #itadori yuji imagines

[themoonitselff]

mizu headcannons. (not safe for work)

Mizu holding her cute s/o by the legs against the wall while fucking them raw.

Mizu kissing her s/o like there's no tomorrow after a rough day at work.

Mizu being super touchy and needy when she gets jealousy.

Modern!Mizu touching your inner thighs and teasing you while you're studying for an exam.

Mizu is the type of girl that would punish you for being a bratty, leaving you wet and high, about to cum, unless you beg for more.

Mizu is the type of gf that loves seeing you cry when you get closer.

Mizu would like white and red lingerie just for her to destroy it.

Mizu is a pussydrunk.

Mizu likes to fuck you with her fingers when you're in a dark alley.

Mizu is the type of girl that loves seeing you desperate because no one desired to fuck her so badly in her life.

Mizu would mark you just to keep other men away from u.

Mizu likes angry sex in secret, it's like sparring with her s/o but more.. Seductive.

Mizu also likes midnight sex, there's no explanation.

Mizu is definitely a boobs girl. She is obsessed with the C cup on her partner.

Bonus ¡! (Not dirty, just cute)

Mizu is not the best at talking when it comes to an argument. She'll try to tell you she needs time to think, maybe two or three days.

Even if it doesn't look like it, she worries about you, and when she kills, she thinks of you.

She's bad at being emphatic with everyone. But for you, she'll try to be the sweetest girl in the world.

Mizu values more the efficacy of words than a big poem with lots of affirmations and weird words. (It means she prefers an I Love You than a Bible of words describing your love for her. But if you're a poet -js like me- she wouldn't have a problem with that, she just won't react like it's a big think -she would be so grateful about it and save it in her pockets-)

Mizu is not a gossip girl, sorry for the ladies that would like to gossip with her, she just don't find it funny to talk about other people.

For a s/o, she prefers someone that's just as strong as her or better, so she can be relaxed about the idea of letting you alone while she fights with other ppl because she knows you're good at defending yourself. She does not care about the height or the appearance, the only thing she cares about is how they can solve the problems.

For a s/o, she prefers someone that can balance her. Someone that's warm and kind, doesn't talk too much (bc she loves talking with eye contact with her s/o), I think she's into someone that fights with their own hands or with a bow, so they can protect her from the sky or from the buildings while she's in the ground punching someone's head.

Mizu would fall in love so hard with someone that's the graphic description of a yellow cat. When she realizes you're not letting her go and that you would kill for her in a mad way, she falls. Hard. Imagine Mizu in the floor trying to get up bc someone's about to take her life, until you come and kill them but in a very... Rough way, the blood spurting and coming out of everywhere, your hands in red, while she recovers, she looks at you with heart eyes and the jaw in the ground. Then you come back and ask her “Are u okay?” and she's just surprised because no one never killed for her safety. “I was, you didn't have to save me”

She's obsessive when she falls in love, she would know every detail of you, not like ur favorite color or your favorite food, more like what makes you cry, what makes you laugh, what makes you angry, your allergies, your no's, what turns you off, y'know.

#bes #bes mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #mizu bes #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #blue eye samurai netflix #mizu x y/n #mizu headcanons #mizu come home the kids miss you

[blackypanther9]

Boys ask you out – Demon!Daughter!Reader x Father!Alastor

A/N: A version where you and Alastor are in Hell and Demons, because it was asked ! If anyone wants to be tagged, tell me and tell me if you only want to be tagged for the Daughter!Reader x Father!Alastor, Son!Reader x Father!Alastor, or both series ! ^^ (Picture belongs to rightful owner!)

TAGLIST: @meg-giry1

WARNING!: Blood & Gore, Demon!Alastor, threats, cursing, insults AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!! THIS IS NOT ROMANTIC !!

Alastor and you were in a Café that suited your on and off tastes. Your Dad was very balanced with his diet, even if not many knew that, he ate venison a lot and sometimes other Demons too, but he also ate normal food.

You were the cause of that. You had certain swings in your appetite. Sometimes you wanted Venison, but other times you just wanted normal food and something sweet for dessert.

Your Father, curse (bless but it’s Hell so “Bless” would be an insult) his soul, loved you too much to not indulge you in that simple wish of yours. So here you were. In a small Café.

He had a cup of coffee and a plate of spaghetti Bolognese, while you had a cup of your favorite hot drink and your favorite dish. You were just happily eating and talking with each other in between bites, as a Demon approached your table.

“Hello there, Cutie~”, the Demon purred and was way too close to you, to your liking.

He must have been new to be so bold and approach you, in front of your Father, the Radio Demon. Your Deer ears started to lie back, showing you were a bit on edge.

“First off: I am not ‘Cutie’ and second off: Back off won’t ya ? Never heard of personal space before ?”, you huffed, irritated.

“Aww, c’mon, don’t be like that~”

The man started to touch your cheek and you could hear a static screech. You looked at your Father and he was...pissed. His smile was still present, yet sinister, and his eye twitched showing the raw urge to murder this pest.

The Demon gave you a smug look.

“C’mon, I am way better than this guy~”, he purred.

“I doubt that very much.”, you growled out slightly.

“How about I show you a good time, hmm ? A better one than this stick has to offer~? I promise it will be worth it, Baby~”, he tried to seduce you and started to let his hand travel down to your woman zone.

Almost instantly did you grab his wrist, with his wandering hand, and scratched it deeply. The man hissed and tore his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me, perverted pig !”, you snarled.

“What the FUCK ?! YOU LITTLE BITCH !!”

The man snatched your left wrist and tried to tear you away.

“YOU WILL TAKE WHAT I GIVE YOU, BITCH ! WHEN I SAY ‘LET’S FUCK’, YOU SAY ‘YES’, YOU DUMB BIMBO !!”

Suddenly there was a clawed hand on your offender’s wrist, that owned the hand that held your left wrist. The static was loud and all the Demons in the Café started to cower away. The hand was black, the sleeve red and the claws red. Your Father’s hand.

“Who do you think you are, to treat my DAUGHTER like that, my good man ?”, Alastor asked dangerously calm.

You could see your Papa’s rage in his eyes. He was ready to eat that Sinner in one bite. Your offender’s grip tightened and you winced, looking at your Dad. He could SMELL it, the lowlife made you BLEED.

“What’s it to you, Loser ? She is nothing special, just because she is your daughter, just another common whore.”, the Sinner scoffed, not even looking at Alastor.

 Alastor’s eyes turned into Radio dials, as you started to get small tears in your eyes. You didn’t like being mistreated and called a slut. It was a memory trigger of a few things that happened to you in your living times, after your Papa was killed and long gone. Without his protection, you got into a very dark time, all because you trusted a family friend and they betrayed you both.

The Demon gave a chuckle of amusement.

“I bet you are fucking your own daughter too. How does she feel, hm ? I bet you would love to share her.”

That was it ! You let out a sound of retching and Alastor snapped. No one is allowed to make his fawn vomit her food back out ! No one is allowed to make his Baby CRY ! No one is allowed to VIOLATE his darling child !

Alastor fully transformed and ripped the Sinner’s arm off, that left its filthy touch on you. The Sinner screamed in agony. Instantly Alastor made a live Radio Broadcast.

“A reminder to all of you, to not touch the Radio Demon’s child ! Whoever violates these terms and I find out about it, will PAY. WITH. THEIR. LIFE. HAHAHAHAHAHA !!!”

The Demon was screaming in agony, crying and begging for mercy, promising he will never do it again. He sure won’t. Alastor will take care of that after all.

After a long torture session he killed the Demon, then he looked at you, his beloved daughter, and he rushed to your side.

“My Dear, are you alright ? Do you want to go home ? Here let me heal that for you, my Fawn.”, Alastor fussed over you.

He gently took your injured wrist and started to heal your injury, while you tried to calm down and get your retching under control. You didn’t want to throw up your food. Your anxiety got the best of you and now you have to battle your urge to vomit.

Alastor quickly caught up and started to pull you close to his chest, gently petting your head and ears, rubbing his other hand up and down your back.

“Calme-toi, ma chérie, je suis là. Je suis là...Shhh... (Calm down, my dear, I’m here. I’m here...Shhh...)”, Alastor said in a soothing, gently voice.

After a while, you calmed down, but lost your appetite. You looked at your Papa.

“Pa ?”

“Yes, Cher ?”

“Mwen vle ale lakay mwen. (I want to go home.)“

Alastor took a deep breath, outraged that this vile creature ruined his and his daughter’s good day.

“Oke, mwen Chè. (Alright, my dear)”, he replied gently.

He left some money on the table and then left with you in his arms for home. He held you to his chest, comforting you at home and watching over you.

Another day

Another time the two of you took a stroll through a small park, that Alastor loved to walk through. It had a few bushes of red roses too and you liked it there. Usually you walked through forests together, but a park was nice too, you didn’t mind it.

Then suddenly a Demon came up to you, ignoring your Father entirely.

“Hey there, hot stuff~ Wanna go out and hook up tonight~?”, the Demon asked.

He sounded young, maybe twenty years old. Your Father’s eye twitched in irritation, while you just stared at him, thinking he was a total idiot for asking you in front of your Dad.

“No thank you. I have to decline. I am not interested.”, you kindly rejected him.

“Oh, please reconsider. I promise I will make it worth your while~”, the Demon insisted.

“Didn’t you hear her ? She said ‘no’, so kindly leave, my good man, before I make you leave. P e r m a n e n t l y.“, Alastor threatened.

The Demon froze and looked over to the Radio Demon.

“H-hey man...I-I didn’t kn-know she was y-your sw-sweetheart.”, the Demon stuttered, all confidence gone.

You groaned loudly.

“Seriously ?! Why is everyone thinking all the time that we are Lovers ?! Gross !”, you yelled in disgust and looked at your Papa.

“I do not know, my Dear.”, Alastor replied.

He was breathing raggedly, trying to stay calm.

“Wait...then what are you ?”, the Demon asked you both confused.

You gave the Demon a deadpan look.

“He is my Father and I am his daughter.”

“O-oh...M-may I take y-your d-daughter out o-on a d-date, Mr. Radio D-Demon ?”

Alastor’s static came to a screeching halt.

“HA ! No.”, he deadpanned.

“P-please ? I-I will take good c-care of her !”, the Demon pleaded.

“HA ! Never going to happen.”, he replied annoyed.

You looked at your Father who was deeply annoyed, like Susan was around. You looked at the Demon and shrugged your shoulders.

“Sorry, Sir. But my Dad will NOT be swayed today.”, you said.

“A-and you ?”

Your Father snapped and gave the Demon his Radio dial pupils.

“If you value your life, you best get out of my sight NOW !”, Alastor said with his glitching voice.

The Demon quickly turned tail and ran for dear life. Alastor snapped out of his murderous state and smiled gently at you again.

“Shall we go home, my Dear ?”

“We shall, Papa.”

With that you both walked back home together, chatting and laughing.

If a Demon asks you out and Alastor is near you, he will intervene.

He doesn’t think that any of these loathsome Sinners are worthy enough to even talk to you. You were his Fawn and he will NEVER leave you alone again. He will NEVER let you go anywhere unprotected EVER again.

He always studies the Demons that approach you and he always saw the same thing. The desire to deflower you, to mark you, to kidnap you and hold you against him, the want to kill you just to get him to go after you, the want to hurt you, just to get under his skin.

Absolutely not. He will never let any of these vile nasty creatures touch you. NEVER.

He sees someone approach you, he will instantly appear on your side and make sure you will be okay...or even scare them off.

Wherever you go, he will send his shadow after you, to keep an eye out, in case you get in trouble, he can quickly teleport to you.

Rosie is the only one who is allowed to touch you and he trusts only her to not harm you.

When he is near his...unfortunate time of the year...(mating season), he will get overprotective and overly possessive of you. It is usually always a whole week before his rut. He will spend all the time with you he can get, before he gets into that season, then he will lock himself up in his own room.

No, his rut isn’t as terrible as anyone might think. He is immune to you and you are immune to him. He would NEVER touch you like that and neither would you. You just bring him food and drinks, and if he needs it, you cuddle with him. You are the ONLY ONE that is allowed to enter his room when he gets like that, because nothing will ever happen to you. He loves and values you too much as his daughter to let anything happen to you.

He will kill anyone that dares to be near you.

There was a time where Valentino touched you and tried to force you to make a deal with him, knowing you were the Radio Demons daughter. Let us just say...Alastor roughened him up so good, that Valentino almost died.

There was also a time where Vox tried to woo you, as that didn’t work he tried to force you to be with him, so he can have leverage over your Father.

....Let’s just say....Alastor nearly tore Vox to shreds that not even Lucifer himself would have been able to put that Flat screened Bastard back together, EVER again.

He still growls when you are near Odette, Clara, Carmilla and Zestial, but he is not attacking them. They were your friends. Still he sometimes gets in their way when they try to touch you, or initiate touch.

The four of them were calm about it and understanding. It got annoying from time to time that Alastor was so overprotective and possessive of you, but they understood why. After all you told them why he was acting the way he was. It made sense.

He couldn’t protect you in your human life. As soon as he died, you got hurt, used and abused, forced to do let things happen to you, that you didn’t want. You told him everything when you met him in Hell again and since then, he never left your side. There was always something from him near you, either one of his minions, one of the souls he owned, his shadows or he himself was near you.

You didn’t mind it much. You had nothing to hide from your Father after all. You loved spending time with him and if you needed him to give you some space, all you had to do was tell him and go to your room.

Best Dad in Hell, really.

I hope you like it and it is passable ! ^^'

(Words: 2 247)

Masterlist HERE !

#READ THE WARNINGS ABOVE!!! #fanfiction #fem!reader #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #Hazbin Hotel #Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader #Father!Alastor #Teen!daughter!Reader #Boys ask you out – Demon!Daughter!Reader x Father!Alastor

[donatellawritings]

ahh hi tella!!! so happy that ur writing for obx :) i need to see how rafe would handle a latina sweeetheart 🎀 maybe she’s kie’s cousin? i just know he’d probably be such a cocky jerk ughhhhhh thx babe

omg i am blushing just thinking about this xo

you were laid on the warmed surface of your towel, leaning on your forearms as your sun kissed skin continued the drink in the intense rays, your white, cherry covered bikini clashing perfectly against your tanned complexion, you loved days at the beach, i mean, what better way to kill time, than to eat fresh fruits and listen to your favorite music, while taking in the stunning north carolina sun for all of its glory?

you continued to lay back, your sunglasses shielding your eyes as you hummed along to the amy winehouse song that flowed through your speakers. the sudden shadow that overtook your vision, now causing you to remove your sunglasses, your eyes squinted as you took in the sight of your cousin - kiara carrera.

your chest visibly rose and fell as you sighed, your squinted frown fading into a gleeful smile, “what’s up, kie?” you asked, your wispy eyelashes batting as she hastily dropped herself onto the sand beside you.

she quickly looked over her shoulder, rolling her eyes as she returned her attention back to you, her arm reaching over you stomach as she grabbed a red grape that sat in the sweaty sand-covered container that rested by your waist, “nothing, it’s just jj being — jj,” she sighed, popping the small fruit into her mouth.

you liked jj, platonically, of course.

“he seems nice,” you chirped, turning onto your stomach, the cherry decorated bikini bottoms that you wore, now wedged between the plush cheeks of your ass as it faced the warm sun.

kiara shrugs with a slight shake of her head, you could tell that she wanted to say more, but decided against it, the moment her eyes fell on your back.

your nails clashed against one another as you undid the knot that secured your bikini top, and concealed your perky breasts, eager to get as much of an even tan as possible, “why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned, reaching for a grape.

“i dunno — maybe it’s because you just undid your top?” kiara countered sarcastically.

you stuck out your tongue, placing the grape into your mouth, soft biting into the crispy fruit before resting the side of your cheek against the surface of your hand, “but, i hate tanlines,” you pouted with a laugh.

you and kiara were thick as thieves, and sure, the reasoning for why you had to live with your cousin wasn’t the most pleasant — but she loved having you around. you were raised as sisters, both of you holding the most intimate details about the other. and boy, did you both balance each other out well! you were bubbly and were quick to let anyone in, which served to be a detriment to you at times, nevertheless, you were a hopeless romantic who made it her business to find beauty in even the most mundane of things.

as you would say, you loved everything that was pretty. your blown-out hair was always shining, wispy eyelashes always curled immaculately, supple lips glazed in shimmery gloss, acrylic-enforced nails always painted in varying shades of pink or a simple french design. you loved wearing clothes that would show off your lower back and midriff - why? no rhyme or reason, you just like how it looked.

you had a heart of gold, wrapped in a bow, making it easy for those around you to be pulled into you and your dreamy ways.

it also made it just as easy for you to end up hurt and taken advantage of.

you and kiara remained engrossed in each other, laughter emitting from the both of you, “so, are you going to stay for the kegger or are we going home for dinner?” kie questioned, a smile remaining on her lips as she watched you try to tame your overwhelming fit of laughter.

you spoke with a giggle, “i don’t know, i promised tio that i’d help him with dinner, one of these days,” you whined, your innocent eyes searching kiara’s for any kind of pull towards your decision.

“okay, well we need to decide soon, before-” kiara began, her words ceasing as a large shadow suddenly towered over the two of you.

you straightened your neck, looking up through your lashes as the tall guy crouched down, your eyes following as he leveled with you. fuck, he was hot.

“shit, kie, y’didn’t tell me you had a secret hot sister,” the guy spoke, his bright blue eyes cutting into yours as swallowed thickly, your glossy lips now running dry.

you tried to remain as still as possible, your eyes widening at the realization that your bikini top was still untied.

“fuck off, rafe, she’s my cousin,” kiara scoffed with disgust.

you remained entranced by the guy, rafe, who kept his bright eyes on yours, a smirk tugging on his lips as he took a quick look over your shoulder, tilting his head at the sight of your untied top and barely-there bottoms.

“ah, cousin?” he asked mockingly, licking over his lips, “does this cousin of yours have a name?” he pushed, the glint of his chain peeking out from his crisp t-shirt now catching your eye.

you sweetly revealed your name, your oh-so slight accent spilling through as you subconsciously batted your pretty lashes up at rafe, “and you are,” you smiled, a toothy grin.

“rafe cameron,” he spoke sternly, ignoring kiara’s protests with a roll of his eyes as he leaned closer to you, until his lips reached your ear, “i’d shake your hand, but i wouldn’t want everyone at this beach to see what you got under there,” he cooed, his condescending tone like silk in your ears.

you couldn’t help but blush like a schoolgirl, much to your cousin’s dismay.

rafe decided to make push just a little bit more, “may i?” he spoke rhetorically, his large hands sliding down your shoulder blades.

“rafe, what the fu-”

you remained still, refusing to make eye contact with kiara as rafe tied the strings of your bikini top into a secure knot, “relax, kie - m’just making her decent,” he pulled away, standing firmly of his feet.

you’d be lying, if you said that you rafe’s hands against your warmed skin didn’t excite you. his touch was oddly tantalizing for you as you were forced to ignore the subtle ache that pulsed between your legs.

you pushed yourself off of your front, now standing directly across from rafe, his eyes shamelessly drinking in the sight of your chest as he was especially intrigued by the tan line that was revealed by the shifted cup of your bikini top.

“thank you, rafe” you spoke softly, holding out your hand as you took in the staggering height difference between you and the man before you, his buzz cut hair causing you to bashfully bite down into the sticky swell of your bottom lip.

rafe accepted your hand, the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue causing blood to rush to his length as he let out a dry chuckle, enclosing his fingers around your hand, watching closely as your breath slightly hitched from his subtle grip on your hand. you two remained like this for a beat as rafe sized you up — he could smell just how genuine and sweet you were, his mind carelessly wandering to how you’d look under him, taking him for all he has. you were much smaller than him, and it ticked a region in his tainted mind that suddenly ached to have you around in any way possible.

the sudden cut of a deep voice calling out didn’t even faze rafe as his lips curved into a smile, “yo! rafe, i’ve been looking everywhere for you man,” a taller blond guy appeared beside rafe.

rafe softly released your hand, before wiping the corners of his mouth with his index finger and thumb, exhaling sharply as he faced the blond, “well, top, i’ve been busy catchin’ up with good ol’ kie, and her pretty little cousin that’s she’s been hiding from us.”

the taller blond glanced at you, he was quicker to size you up, before redirecting rafe back into his original conversation. kiara softly grabbed your arm, carrying your speaker and container of grapes.

“let’s go home,” she nudged her head towards the street, completely privy to how dumbstruck rafe had made you. she could tell that you liked it and refused to ever allow rafe to get his hands on you.

at least, not when she was around.

“oh, okay,” you mumbled defeatedly, reaching down to grab your towel from the sand, quickly turning to face rafe who watched intently as you walked away.

“bye,” you mouthed with a small wave, before turning around to catch up with your feverish cousin.

rafe continued to feign interest in whatever the fuck topper was talking about, his eyes set on your body as you walked farther and father away from him. god, he loved the way your ass bounced with each step you took. in his fucked mind, he knew that kiara was right to keep you hidden, but now since you weren’t hidden, at least not from him, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before you were his, and his only.

of course, you being such a willing sweetheart made it all the more easier for him.

#anon #asks #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #obx #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #sweetheart!reader

[thegoblinboy]

Eddie skims the books on the shelf in front of him, there was no use in trying to find one he was actually interested in. He was just going to end up forgetting about it and picking up one of the lord of the rings books again. Instead he just lets himself wander through his thoughts. Letting his body go in autopilot as his fingers gently brush the spines of dozens of books.

He should be in gym class, but he isn’t. The consequences of skipping were far better than those of actually showing up. The last time he went (over a month ago now) he ended up walking out with a chipped tooth and black eye. And he can’t forget about the bruised ego.

Walking at the end of one aisle, he carefully turns and moves himself into the next. Preparing to loop through said aisle again but nearly jumping out of his skin when he nearly falls over another person. A person who was sitting down, back pressed to the shelf he was walking the corner of.

A croak like noise comes out of the back of his throat as he nearly tumbles face first into carpeting. Stumbling forward a bit and catching balance on the shelf to the left of him. Secretly praying to all that’s holy that he didn’t somehow know the entire shelf over.

“Jesus H Christ.” He spits out, a hand pressed against his chest as he dramatically breathes heavier then normal. Putting on a show for whoever nearly killed him. Turning around to face the culprit he nearly jumps back again startled.

Sitting, pretty pathetically Eddie would say, was a very beat up Steve Harrington. Who looked like a horror book came to life. His eyes, or eye was a bit glossed over and wide as he starts stuttering over his words a bit. Obviously having a moment before Eddie came along and crashed the party.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to trip you up like that.” Steve visibly cringes at his own words, as if he was also aware he seemed pathetic.

“Eh- it’s alright. Not the first time a king has tried taking me out.” He grins, before faltering a bit as he remembers that the other wouldn’t understand his DnD campaign reference.

He begins to walk away, wanting the entire awkward interaction to be over. But he can’t help but be just a bit nosy as his eyes glance down at the book in Steve’s lap. It probably had been open at one point, but it was now closed and Eddie is secretly thankful he can read upside down.

“Head injuries huh?” He points out. “Didn’t take you for a reader King Steve.” He drags the other’s name out a bit longer than he has to as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocking a hip out. He didn’t personally enjoy talking with asshole jocks, but what he did enjoy was knowing some things. He liked having some lore for the people around him.

“I’m not.” Steve snorts as he lifts the book up. “Just trying to do some research, I don’t know if you have eyes or anything but my face is pretty smashed in right now.” He retorts back with a little bit of sass. Eddie notes how his words slur up a bit, like he was drunk. But Eddie could spot a drunk anywhere and Steve Harrington seemed a hundred percent sober.

Furrowing his eyebrows, just a bit concerned he doesn’t let up the banter. Purposely forcing his eye lids open with one hand and jokingly pressing the finger tip against his eye before pulling back. Blinking the tears out of his slightly agitated right eye as he brings two thumbs up and comments, “we are in the clear I, Eddie Munson, let the record show, have eyeballs.” He grins dramatically.

“Want a gold star for that poncho.” Steve snorts, shaking his head a bit obviously amused. His body tensed up a bit as he goes a bit pale for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut with shaky breathes as his fists tighten around the book he was holding.

“Yes I do in fact want a gold star-” Eddie mumbles out gently, face scrunching up a bit more worried now as he moves his crossed arms from off his chest and moves a few steps closer to the other.

“Hey Harrington, you alright? You don’t seem like your typical charming self.” He comments as he hesitates for a moment before he crouches down. Leaving a few inches between the two of them.

Steve gives a weak nod of his head before he adjusting himself. “Yeah- just moves my head too much. Happens sometimes you know?” He chuckles gently.

“Oh thank god, you were looking a little green. Was worried you were about to hulk out on me buddy.” Eddie jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Lifting his hand up and running one of his rings against the bottom of his lip before glancing back down at the book.

“Find anything good in there, or are you just holding it for show?” Eddie asks gently, trying to come off a bit more teasing.

Steve snorts again, sounding a bit stressed as he nearly shakes his head no again but stopped ps himself. “No, couldn’t even make it through the first page without wanting to throw up.” He groans as he quickly adds. “Not because I don’t want to read it, it’s just the words won’t sit still and it hurts my eyes which then hurts my head.” He groans as he opens his eyes back up fully and looks down at the book with a little huff.

“Could always get a nerd to do your homework for you,” Eddie jokes, slightly hinting towards Wheeler. “Heard that girlfriend of yours had a decent brain on her, she seems like the type to understand that you’ll need help.” He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the other.

Steve makes a noise that Eddie can’t even place, it sounded like the mixture of a laugh and a snort combined. “Can’t, I’m pretty sure she cheated on me with Byers. Don’t want to feel any more stupid around her.” He mumbles the last sentence out.

Eddie looks a bit surprised, he hadn’t taken Mrs Priss to be a cheater. Though he furrows his eyebrows again in thought. “If you give me a twenty I’ll read that book for you and try answering any questions you have.”

Eddie didn’t want to seem completely like a sweetheart, he had to keep up the image he had going on or else people wouldn’t take him seriously during deals. And he didn’t want to ruin said image to Steve Harrington of all people.

Steve squints his good eye at Eddie suspiciously, “I’ll pay you a hundred if you don’t mention this to anybody else.”

Eddie feels a little bit shitty for doing this but an image had to be kept.

“You’ve got yourself a deal Harrington.” His grin isn’t fully authentic as he takes the book from the other and does a playful salute as he stands up fully and begins to walk away.

#Eddie is a worried wart #Steve may become a lost sheep #a drabble of sorts #don’t know if I’ll do another part #just wanted to write and see where it took me #I’m back! #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #Steve has head injuries #hoh steve harrington #Steve has a concussion #post season 2

[deadsetobsessions]

Between the whole “clone trying to kill her original version” thing and the whole “trying to find herself after being freed from the millionaire fruit loop halfa” thing, Danielle “Ellie” Phantom figured that she’d fit right in with Gotham.

They’ve got shades, a concerning amount of undead, and the people there seem to have traumatic backstories galore. Perfect.

Danny might die again if she told him where she’s staying, though. So she won’t tell him!

Ellie touched down in an alley near the first bus stop into Gotham, returning to the visible spectrum and returning her intangibility. She wanted to explore everything, and where better to start than the entrance of Gotham?

She slips out of the alley, walking past the terrified looking tourists. Ellie ignores the smell of soot they gave off, attributing correctly that it came from the explosion she heard before she approached Gotham. The city, like any other major city, was littered with trash and odd bits of metal. There’s graffiti too, but less so than the sunnier cities. The clouds- and smog, because Ellie could smell it miles away from the city- that obscured the sky left the city in a chilling atmosphere. Hazy. Like, a graveyard at dawn. Perfect for someone like Ellie.

It’s so different from Amity, stone where she dreaded plaster, gloom and doom where she dreaded seeing sunshine she couldn’t reach. 

Ellie wandered, under bridges, and in between paths. She danced through shootouts, glides past brawls, laughs when pick pockets find their hands empty after bumping into her.

She gets a coffee and one of those delicious lemon bars, with Vlad’s money. Hers, now that Tucker’s gotten his hands on Vlad’s inner systems. The barista gives her a suspicious look, but she brings out her strongest midwestern accent and the look melts into exasperation. And pity, but Ellie doesn’t really care about that. She “ooh’s and ahh’s” at the grimy stone, the gothic inspired architecture that Sam would kill to experience, goggles at the boarded up buildings. There’s a cathedral or two or five, she doesn’t remember, but the pretty glass seems to be broken at most of them. She wonders what happened. Then she remembers that there are vigilantes here, and concludes that she has to remember to look up more often. A giant clock-tower. A district with less people and fancier homes. A university! She might apply after she’s done traveling around and have gotten her GED.

Her shoes pound the pavement, something about the effort it takes to take a step burns in her soul. Yes, this is what it means to be free. She kicks the knees of two would be robbers in as she passes them on her way to purchasing three bars of the best chocolates she’s had in her short existence.

The cashier looks at her like she’s odd. Oh, well.

And then night falls. Ancients, does the city truly come alive. There are screams and sirens and surges in ectoplasm that balances her essence of being out. Ellie, with a new pep in her step, follows the trail of ectoplasm right into an area called “Crime Alley.”

“It feels almost like… a haunt…?”

Ellie hums and keeps walking. Maybe this is the territory of one of the undead Gothamites…?

She’s got a bit of Danny’s saving people thing after all, because the three bars of candy on her is gone in minutes to children with hollow cheek and dead eyes. 



Ellie startles backwards as a body slams onto the pavement in front of her, barely missing the risen steps of the building they were in front of.

“Oh.” She says. Because this is one of the Undead. And he’s Red Hood. Danny is going to flip.

“Run- run, kid.”

Ellie tilts her head. “And why would I do that?”

“You’re gonna get hurt, brat!” The man barks, and winces as his ribs shuttered. The red helmet’s tinny voice doesn’t intimidate her nor does it hide the concern and fear bleeding into the guy’s body language.

“Not really?”

And with that, Ellie slams her elbow into Goon 1, knocking him straight into another building. Goon 2 tries to grab her and she phases out of his reach, floating upwards and slamming her fist into his face. He joins Goon 1 in decorating that building’s new mural, called the two dumbasses that picked a fight with a wandering Ellie.

Hood watches her, cradling his ribs.

“You a meta?” He grumbled at her, wheezing as she crouched down and poked his sides. He smacks her hand away.

Ellie, who has clearly spent too much time near Danny, replies, “Being dead is a medical condition.” without missing a single beat.

Hood, on the other hand, misses several beats.

“What?”

Ellie barrels on, amused at his fumble. “Did you know you died?”

Hood looks at her and Ellie swears she can see the dumbfounded expression.

Ellie laughs, free and sharp. Yes, Gotham is nothing like Amity.

#Gotham #Gothamites meeting Ellie and going this kid is gonna die #(fondly) #Ellie: you can not kill me in any way that matters #Ellie: I’m gonna do all the dangerous stuff #red hood #Jason told #creepy danielle lol #dc x dp #dpxdc #danielle phantom #ellie phantom #Ellie thinks beating people up is part of the tourist experience

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: scout, engineer, heavy, medic, sniper, and spy (i forgot demo i'm so sorry)

↳ warnings: bad translations, slight mentions of world war two and malpractice

↳ song: with a little help from my friends—joe cocker

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐭

• He would be so smug about it

• Puffing his chest out and everything

• His friends in the past- and even family members -have teased him for mispronouncing words or speaking too fast, and it’s made him a bit self conscious about the way he talks. But after hearing that you find it endearing, its a giant ego boost for him

• “Yeah dat’s right! Who’s awesome? I’m awesome!” Scout smiles as he flexes his arms in your face, subjecting you to what he likes to call a surprise gun show. You pretend to hate it as you shove his arm away, but chuckle all the same

• He’s already gloated before that he already knew his accent was the best. Boston is the greatest place in the world after all! But hearing it from you really just sent him over the moon

• Makes a point to talk to you a lot more now; as if he didn’t already

• “Yo! Hey did you see that kill out there? I totally messed dat Spy up! One wrong step and pow! He’s dead meat!”

• “I saw Scout. I was covering your flank while you did it, remember?”

• “Yeah yeah, but I just thought you’d like ta hear about it again.”

𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐫

• Didn’t consider himself to have an accent until you pointed him out

• Sure, he says the occasional y’all and ain’t, but not enough to qualify as a whole different way of speaking

• It wasn’t until he dropped a hammer on his foot and cursed that he understood what you’d meant

• “What in the sam hill! Sweet hell!” He’d exclaimed, startled. Once the throbbing in his leg had subsided, Engineer replayed his words in his head, making a slight o with his mouth as he realized you were probably right. To some extent at least

• He was a born and raised Texas boy, so it makes sense that the culture rubbed off

• Doesn’t understand at first that you find it nice. Maybe he thought you pointed it out just because you could? He’s a bit distracted when it comes to anything but machinery, so he misses context sometimes

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲

• Surprised that someone like you who can speak English fluently finds his mannerisms attractive

• Gets frustrated sometimes when he can’t remember certain words in English. Heavy is a very smart man, so it aggravates him when he looks illiterate in front of his team

• That’s why hearing that you like his mother tongue caught him by surprise

• “But you don’t know any Russian?” He’d rumbled out as a question. When you shook your head no, still sporting a smile, his eyebrows furrowed further

• “Nah. But I like hearing it when it comes from you. It sounds more natural. Like you’re more comfortable than normal, you know?”

• You’re technically right. When Heavy slips into Russian, often whilst talking to Sasha or simply forgetting that not everyone on the team know how to speak it, he is more comfortable in his words. They flow better, and he’s flattered that you’ve noticed

• One hundred percent offers to teach you Russian in his spare time. He finds it slightly adorable how you stumble over words in your broken translations, but always manages to softly correct you

• He’s a really good teacher

𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜

• Positively thrilled that you like his voice

• When you tell him for the first time, he goes into shock for a moment before breaking out into the biggest smile you’ve seen. Somehow its a perfect balance between excited and malicious

• “Do you hear zhat Archemedies? Mein freund here enjoys my accent!” He cooes at his bird, chuckling in a way that would make anyone’s insides squirm

• Once you look past Medic’s initially devious reaction, it’s very clear he enjoys knowing this

• If anything, the ex-doctor would have thought that you’d enjoy the more stereotypically romantic sounding languages. Spanish, Latin, etc

• German has always been considered harsh or scary sounding, and it turned a lot of people away from hiring him after the events of World War Two, which he understood. Still, Medic finds himself absolutely tickled that you are drawn to his accent

• Finds himself slipping more and more into German while doing checkups on you now. When he catches himself, he translates most of what’s he’s said back to you. But sometimes he’ll simply forget, and it leaves you wondering if he’s offered you a glass of water or the opportunity to swap your bladder out

• You sincerely hoped it was the former

𝐒𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

• Oh my god you killed him

• Sniper is very reserved. Living in his camper, hunting his own game for dinner instead of joining the others, literally pissing in jars, etc etc

• Being a man of few words comes part and parcel with that; which normally works out just find because Scout talks enough for ten people

• Hasn’t said much to you before. He mostly communicates in head nods or slight tilts of his coffee mug in your direction. Maybe a few ‘good mornin’s’ tossed around, but nothing more than that

• “You know, you should talk more.” You’d said to him one day while pouring a fresh pot of tea you had just boiled into your own mug. He preferred black coffee himself, but whatever floats your boat

• “You voice.” You elaborated after a sip. You must have noticed his confused look as you carried on. “It’s nice. Can’t imagine that you don’t have gals throwing themselves at you all the time because of it.”

• Suddenly very grateful he wasn’t drinking any of his brew at the time, because what you said surely would have made him choked

• He, in fact, had had a few ladies approach him in town before saying something along the same lines. Even a few fellas. But nothing made him blanch this strongly like you had

• Excuses himself as he walks out of the room suddenly, tilting his hat down to cover his face no one can see the furious red tint forming

• Sniper leaves you in the communal kitchen. Holding a steaming cup of liquid and looking very confused

𝐒𝐩𝐲

• Already knew before you told him

• To anyone else, it would have been passible as just curiosity. But Spy’s job is to know things, and it is an undeniable fact that you found his voice attractive

• Doesn’t utilize this weapon often. You are not a weak willed person swayed by just a few words, so when he needs something he pulls out all the stops

• Of course, that doesn’t stop him from being impressed when you eventually admit your little not-so-secret-secret to him. And of your own free will. He didn’t have to pry it out of you, which was a feat on its own

• Much like Heavy, he extends the offer of teaching you how to learn his language. Now that he no longer has this knowledge as a bargaining chip, he might as well seize the opportunity to teach you a proper language

• Considers using electroshock therapy to condition you faster, but nixes it pretty quick

• Again, like Heavy, he finds it cute how horrible you are at French. More amused than anything, but he can appreciate the way you practice verbs in your free time even when he isn’t leaning over your shoulder

• That you know of, that is

• Praises you often in french, letting excited phrases slip when you nail a particularly hard set of words

• “Merveilleux ! Tu t’améliores beaucoup, ma petite. Encore une fois.”

• While you don’t understand the full extent to his words, you smile and continue on, eventually realizing what he had said later in a fit of embarrassment

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 x y/n #scout x reader #scout x you #scout x y/n #engineer #engineer x reader #engineer x you #engineer x y/n #heavy #heavy x reader #heavy x you #heavy x y/n #medic #medic x you #medic x y/n #medic x reader #sniper #sniper x reader #sniper x y/n #sniper x you #spy #spy x reader #spy x you #spy x y/n #x reader #headcanons

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Ni Ceta, Cyar'ika

Dark!Din Djarin x Jedi!Female Reader

Warnings: corruption arc, murder, death of minor character (i don't wanna spoil it but I wanna make sure no one is caught off guard. it's axe woves), possessive behavior, loss and anxiety, light smut, mentions of being intimate

Word Count: 7,842

Summary: Din Djarin is a man who lost everything. His home, his son, his Creed. But at the end of the day, he still had you. He still had you, and he was determined to keep you.

[a/n: if dark fics aren't your forte, don't worry this isn't super dark. well, not as dark as i originally planned to go. more psychological horror than physical]

.

"i denied death for you. and i'd die for you again. kill for you. i'd tear the stars down from the heavens to fashion you a crown. you are my heart. my queen. i'd do anything and everything you ask me."

-Jay Kristoff

.

Looking back, you had no chance of not falling in love with Din Djarin. Even despite having plenty of reasons not to. You were on the run from the Empire, trying to keep a padawan safe from them. He was hired to collect said padawan as a bounty. He was a Mandalorian. You were a Jedi. Needless to say, the odds had been stacked against you both, but falling for him was the simplest thing in all the worlds.

You had a lot of reason not to, sure, but you also had no chance in avoiding it. Not with the way he put you and Grogu above everything else⏤ even himself. Not with the way he balanced trusting you to hold your own in a fight versus protecting you when you were overwhelmed. Not with the way his hand would softly brush against you as if he wanted so badly to touch you but thought himself unworthy. Not with the way his hoarse voice whispered your name in the softest concern and care.

Never before had you put any belief in the concept of soulmates, it seemed silly, but after meeting Din you weren’t so sure. The two of you seemed made to fit one another. Complement. Make the other stronger, better. The way you both understood one another, the care and love that came so easily… It was as if you loved him in another life. Like the two of you were destined to find one another in every lifetime. Made of the same stardust and shaped by the galaxy itself.

You loved Din Djarin. You loved him so damn much, and it made watching him crumble that much harder.

“Din.” You mumbled. Boba had swooped back to pick the lot of you up after the successful rescue mission. Though calling it successful seemed…bittersweet. Grogu was safe, but Grogu was gone. You wandered closer to where Din sat in a chair. He had isolated himself the moment you all boarded the ship. He was slumped over, elbows on his knees, and head hanging down. You knelt down by his side and squeezed his arm. “Hey. I wanted to check on you.” Din nodded, but stayed silent. His helmet stayed facing down, away from you, and it broke your heart to see him so devastated. “Tell me what you need, baby. I can stay or I can give you some space.”

Again, Din did not respond, but he turned his arm just enough to grasp you by the hand. You gave it a slight squeeze and just stayed there. For the rest of the flight neither of you moved. You knew Din felt like he couldn't complain. Grogu was safe with Skywalker, set to train and harness his gifts. Softly, you reassured him that whatever he was feeling was alright. He stayed silent.

Boba and Fennec’s goal was to reach Tatooine so you and Din tagged along. It wasn’t far. You all got there in a matter of hours and when you parted ways, Boba encouraged you or Din to call him if anything was ever needed. It didn’t take long for you to get a room at an inn. 

That night in bed you held Din close. The room had been darkened so even if you did open your eyes all you could see was his silhouette. He loved you with soft touches and thankful whispers, and when the both of you were spent and exhausted Din collapsed into you. Typically, he liked being the big spoon. Din loved wrapping his body around yours, all encompassing, as if he needed to protect you even in sleep. However, tonight, Din clung to your side⏤ an arm draped over your waist as he laid his head on your bare chest. You held him close, raking a hand through his hair tenderly.

The room was filled with quiet breaths, and when Din spoke his voice was so hushed that you nearly missed it.

“Don’t leave me, cyar'ika.” He seemed to beg. “I can’t lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said firmly. Holding onto him tighter. You continued to whisper promises of staying by his side long after he fell asleep.

Din wanted to find the covert. That was what he told you he needed. You had no qualms with that. You wanted to do whatever you had to in order to help him find some semblance of normal. Coruscant was not one of your favorite places in the galaxy, but you’d walk through hell as long as Din was by your side. As you followed him, his eyes tracking signs and clues you couldn’t see, your own gaze continued to drift to the saber hanging from Din’s belt. His newest acquisition.

Ages ago, when it had been time to build your own lightsaber, the kyber crystal you chose had really chosen you. Everybody had certain strengths, even within the Force, and yours was reading energies. Your kyber crystal seemed to sing to you. The energy it gave was warmth. It was protective. It was loyal. Building your lightsaber had been a time honored tradition you treasured. Having it hang from your hip was something you did not take lightly. It gave you strength.

The energy coming from the darksaber felt…wrong. It was hard to put into words. It was muted to you, as if trying to hide, but still the darksaber seemed to weep a negative energy into the air itself. You didn’t like it, but you had no significant reasoning why other than ‘it feels bad’.

When the two of you reached the covert, Din was adamant about you coming in with him. Even when you told him you thought it was a bad idea, he still tangled his hand in yours and dragged you in. Just as you thought the other two Mandalorians there were unhappy with seeing you. In part because of the lightsaber on your hip, but more so because you were not their kind. You were not Mandalorian. Auretii. That’s what the Armorer called you. An outsider. It wasn’t inaccurate. 

The interaction started bad and only got worse.

Paz Vizsla challenged Din for the darksaber, a man you knew that Din considered to be a brother even despite rough disagreements in the past, and watching Din use the saber sent a chill down your spine. It was too heavy in his hands, and with every swing the blade was more difficult for Din to use. You could see it in his stride. You didn’t know how to explain it⏤ it was always difficult to explain the way an energy felt to you⏤ but the saber was fighting. It was annoyed.

Din won the battle.

“Din Djarin, have you ever removed your helmet?” The silence that followed the question broke your heart. “Have you ever removed your helmet?” You felt useless watching Din endure this pain. It was the same watching Skywalker carry Grogu away. You were a witness to his suffering. “By Creed, you must vow.”

“I have.”

“Then, you are a Mandalorian no more.”

The walk back into the depths of Coruscant was silent and painful. You slipped your hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I’m here. I’m not leaving. You will not lose me. Din returned the squeeze, but the pain was radiating off him in palpable waves. A feeling washed over you and your eyes darted to Din’s hip where the saber rested. Smug. It felt smug. 

The two of you walked into the covert as Mandalorian and Jedi, but left as Apostate and Aruetti.

You had the opinion that Din never got to properly mourn the loss of the Razor Crest. With everything going on at the time, it seemed like the least of the problems you both had. However, it's loss was felt now. Even in the short time you spent with Din and Grogu, the ship had become a place of comfort. For Din, the Crest had been all he had for so long⏤ it was his home. It held all his belongings and in a singular second it was all gone.

That aching wound was constantly festering, but when the two of you were forced to ride in public ships to get from world to world you could tell it stung Din the most. That’s how you’d have to get off Coruscant, but a small victory came in the form of a message from Peli. 

“Din, you’re not gonna believe this.” You grinned as he returned from whatever errand he had to do. “Peli has a possible Razor Crest replacement. She just messaged me. If we can just get to⏤”

“No.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but Din took you by the hand and began to travel the opposite way of the small inn you were staying in. “What?”

“I found a ship. Here. Already purchased it.”

Surprise washed over you. “Wait.” You tried to get him to stop and look at you, but Din seemed like a man on a mission. “You bought it already? Without even asking me?”

“It was my credits.”

The words stung. It was so dismissive. Nothing like the way Din usually spoke to you. He always discussed big decisions with you, just as you did with him. The two of you were a team. Through and through. Din seemed to sense your displeasure and his steps faltered.

“Cyar'ika, ni ceta.” Din murmured. You recognized the apology. He turned and settled a hand on the side of your face. “I…I don’t know what came over me. I suppose I was just excited.”

“It’s…” You lifted a hand to cup the one tenderly caressing your cheek. Din had just lost his Creed. The cornerstone of his existence. Of course, he’d be short. You’d be more worried if he wasn’t showing signs of being upset. You gave him a tight lipped smile. “No, I’m sorry. Are you alright? How do you feel?” Din didn’t respond. “Baby?”

He shook his head, his voice quiet. “I’m just ready to be off world.”

“I understand.” You gave him a smile. “Show us our new home then.”

Din let out a small chuckle and you took that as a victory. He led you to a yard of ships and pointed out a black ship with burgundy accents. It was nothing special. It wasn’t the Razor Crest. However, it had enough space for the both of you.

“This is nice.” You explored the cargo hold. 

“It’ll do.” Din countered.

You jumped when you heard the ramp closing and as Din passed you to get to the cockpit, he set his hand on your lower back to take you with him. As you settled in the passenger seat, you watched as Din familiarized himself with the control panel. When the ship reached the atmosphere, you leaned forward.

“Hey, maybe we should go see Peli anyways. Say hello.” You suggested. “She can look the ship over and tell us if we need anything…” Peli would just rip you off, but she was a familiar face. Boba and Fennec were on Tatooine as well. You thought Din could use more than just you. A reminder that he had more in his life than he thought. “Din?”

“No.” Din replied. He placed in a set of coordinates and you recognized them to be Nevarro. Well, maybe that would work. Karga was there. Cara too. Last you heard, Mayfeld was kicking around the newest establishment. The ship slipped into hyperspace and Din held a hand out to you. When you took it he yanked you toward him and you fell onto his lap. “We’re needed in Nevarro. Karga.”

He said it as if the name was enough. Before you could ask for further clarification, Din was tossing his gloves aside. He hit a button that shaded the windows, dimming the room till it was nearly impossible to see then he whispered to close your eyes. It was natural for you to do just as he asked. His hands grasped at your hips, pulling you down to grind against your core, and a pair of lips began to leave open mouth kisses along your neck.

“Cyar'ika…” Din breathed as he wrestled your shirt off you. Rough and desperate. Yanking your breast band off with it. The moment you were bare to the chilly air of the cockpit, Din’s hot mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, teeth grazing sensitive skin, and you moaned. Din pulled away and you already missed his mouth. “Need you. Need all of you.”

Din loved you with rough hands and frantic begging. When the two of you were spent, breathless and sweaty, you slumped against his body. Din trailed his hands up and down your spine as if he couldn’t fathom not touching you.

“I can’t lose you.” He murmured in your ear. “Not you, cyar'ika.”

“You won’t.” You reassured him. “You won’t lose me.”

The reason Din stopped in Nevarro, stopped to see Karga, was for bounty pucks. You had never seen him take so many at once and he said less than ten words to the High Magistrate of Nevarro before dragging you back to the ship. 

A distraction. You convinced yourself. It was just a distraction. 

Din needed something to keep his mind busy and what better than bounty hunting? As long as you were there to keep an eye on him, make sure he’s cared for, then everything would be alright. It might take time, but it would be okay. That’s what you told yourself. Over and over and over. You wondered if the reassurance was more for your benefit. 

The first couple of bounties went normal, but slowly things began to feel…different. Wrong. The quarries Din brought in were more often cold than warm these days. He seemed to be favoring the darksaber as well. It had gone from a weapon used as a last resort to one of his regulars. Din got better with the weapon after every quarry, and the saber’s energy felt like it was singing. As wrong as it all felt, Din seemed himself still. In fact, he almost seemed closer to his normal self. The aching sadness and mourning wasn’t so present. 

“Din?” You called out from where you sat at the small table. Rather than staying on the new ship, the two of you had rented a room at a local inn. It put you closer to where the current quarry was hiding. “You in the mood for something specific? For dinner, I mean?” Din had stepped into the bathroom to clean up and still had yet to come out. “Baby?”

Concern began to take root, but the door opened and you felt it slip away only to be replaced by shock. A stranger in familiar armor stood in the doorway. Din. Din was helmetless. You quickly shut your eyes with a curse. Heavy footfalls crossed the room to stand in front of you and you felt Din’s warm hands on your cheeks.

“Cyar'ika, look at me.”

“Din, what are you doing?” You gasped. It had been nearly two months since the covert, but even then he kept his helmet on. Never took it off. You didn’t understand what had suddenly changed now so suddenly. “I⏤”

“I want you to see me.”

“But⏤ But, why now?”

Din’s thumbs were tracing your cheek and he wouldn’t answer your question. He murmured again for you to open your eyes and you hesitantly peeked through your lashes. Din stood towering above you. From where you sat, you had to look up to admire his features. His appearance was never important to you. You fell in love with the soul inside that armor. Din always swore you’d see his face one day, but the context would be different. He’d whisper about a future together as you both laid tangled in bed. 

He was handsome. Strong features, pretty dark brown eyes, scruff along his jaw. And his hair, you were finally able to see the dark slightly loose curls that you’d run your fingers through. You slowly stood and lifted a hand to trace his features.

“Am… Am I okay?” Din asked. 

The phrasing of the question was odd and it took you a moment to garner a guess. You cupped his face with a broad smile. “You’re more than okay. You’re perfect. Maker, it’s kind of not fair how handsome you are.” You kept your tone teasing and Din chuckled. The sight of his smile warmed your chest. “What brought this on?”

“I am an Apostate.” Din said firmly and you felt your own smile falter. His dark brown eyes stayed locked onto yours and though they held the depth and soul you always knew they would there was something else there. “I am no longer Mandalorian. Why should I hide my face any longer?”

“Din…” You mumbled. Concern leaking into your voice. This was quite the huge and sudden leap to make. “You⏤”

He leaned in and pressed a light kiss against your lips. The kiss turned deeper as Din began to devour you. Needy and wanting. Desperate. Soon he had you picked up into his arms so he could slam you against the wall. It always felt like Din craved you⏤ that wasn’t in debate. Right now though, he was like a man starved. As if he had never had never had you before and was worried he’d never have you again.

Din loved you like a man possessed. Pressed between him and the wall he was unrelenting. Still, held tight by the man you were in love with, Din moaned and begged for you to stay with him. He didn’t even pause to let you reassure him. Just praised the way you felt and pleaded for you to be his. 

There was something wrong with Din.

As you sat in the dingy alley, panting heavily from your near death experience, that was the first thought to occur to you. A hunt had gone wrong. One of the quarry’s allies had gotten the jump on you. You had taken a few hits, saw an opening to save yourself, but before you even had a chance the goon was being ripped off of you. Din had saved you, but it didn’t feel like being saved from where you sat.

Din had ripped the man off you and rather than use the darksaber he chose to beat the goon bloody with his hands. Blood splattered in the alley, on his otherwise spotless armor, and you found yourself trembling. The man who had been attacking you was long dead, but Din did not stop. His face was twisted in rage and hate. You called out his name, more than once, and eventually he paused in his onslaught to catch his breath. His chest was heaving from exertion and you could tear your eyes away from the red that stained his silver beskar.

Slowly, Din rose and stalked toward you. For a brief moment, you didn’t recognize Din. You didn’t know the stranger towering over you. He knelt down and reached out to cup the side of your face. The hot blood of the man Din had slaughtered smeared across your cheek. You could feel it and it sent a chill of fear down your spine. The hate began to dissipate from his eyes. There was a softness you recognized now, but for the first time you’d describe Din as hollow.

“Are you okay, cyar'ika?” He breathed. You nodded nervously. Din grabbed you by the arms and pulled you to stand. He let out a sigh of relief and wrapped you into a tight hug. He pressed you against his blood stained armor and laid his head on top of yours. Din shook his head, a shaky breath slipping from his lips, “I won’t lose you. I can’t lose you. No one will take you from me. I swear it, cyar'ika.” 

Relief and love radiated from Din, but all you could feel was the humming possessive energy that the darksaber blasted into the air around you both.

The sensation of dropping out of hyperspace woke you up. You blinked and reached out to a cold bed. Din had gotten up and was now dropping you out of hyperspace? You pushed up and slid out of bed. You found Din in the cockpit and the sight of an unfamiliar world hung in view just outside the ship. 

“Where are we?”

“Mandalore.”

You sat down in the passenger seat and grabbed Din by the knee forcing him to set the ship to drift and turn to face you. “What the kriff do you mean Mandalore?” Din didn’t respond. He leaned back in his seat and just stared at you. You were still trying to get used to seeing him without his helmet. Din rarely wore it these days. Even in a fight. “Din.”

“We’re meeting allies here.”

“For what?!”

“We’re recovering our home.”

Din was answering the questions as if you were being ridiculous for even asking them. As if you had been privy to this knowledge. Frustration made your temper flare. “Din, are you serious!?” He didn’t react and somehow that was worse. “We need to talk.”

“Then talk.”

Things had only gotten worse with Din. You were scared of what he was capable, but never in relation to you. No matter how cold his eyes grew, no matter how lost in got in a brutal fight, no matter how bitter the darksaber made the air, you knew Din wouldn’t hurt you. That knowledge was ingrained in your very soul. What worried you⏤ what kept you awake at night⏤ was your worry for Din. He always said he couldn’t lose you, but it felt like you were the one losing him.

“Baby.” You murmured and rose to take a seat in his lap innocently. Just trying to get closer to him. You cupped his face and at your contact the cold, distant look in his eyes briefly cracked. Din stared up at you in adoration and love. “I’m… I’m scared.”

Din furrowed his brow and sat up. His arms wrapped around your waist. “Don’t be. You never have to be scared. I’m never going to let anything hurt you.”

“No, Din, that’s not what I’m scared of.” You replied. “I’m scared for you. I’m worried about you.”

“I’ve never been better, cyar’ika.”

You raked a hand through his hair trying to convey every ounce of passion you felt for him in the simple motion. “Din… I’ve been wanting to say this for some time.” You shook your head. “The darksaber.” There was a flash of something unrecognizable in his gaze, but you pressed onward. “It’s… dangerous. You know when I told you about my lightsaber. It’s energy.” He nodded. “The darksaber gives off an energy too, and I don’t like it.”

“What do you mean?” Din asked.

“It feels like,” You winced and struggled for a description to match, “poison. Din, baby, it feels like poison.” Din shook his head as if he still could not understand what it was you were trying to say. “I think it’s a bad influence.”

Din scoffed but the curl of his lips made it seem like he wasn’t taking your statement seriously. “Cyar’ika, it’s a sword. It can’t influence me.”

“It’s not just a sword, Din. It has a kyber crystal in it and⏤”

“Are you trying to tell me I need to get rid of it?” He pressed. You gave a small nod. “I can’t. I need it.” You opened your mouth to argue, but his arms tightened around you. “If we’re going to take Mandalore back, recover it, then I have to use the darksaber. Be Mandalor.”

Your eyes widened. “Since when did you want that title??”

“But more importantly, I need it to protect you.” He whispered, ignoring your question entirely. Din leaned his forehead against yours and the touch was so soft and reverent that you shuddered. He took in a slow deep breath. “You are my priority. Always. The darksaber grants me the power to keep you safe.”

You pressed a tender kiss to his lips and Din’s breath hitched. As you spoke, you kept your lips close enough to brush against his with every word. “You never needed it before. And I’m not helpless. You know that.” Din closed his eyes and you dragged your fingers through his scruff. “We were fine without the darksaber. We don’t need it.”

Din leaned in to capture your lips with his. For the first time in a very long time, the kiss was slow and patient. He took his time tasting you and he leaned back to allow your hands to travel and explore him. It was so reminiscent of the days before everything fell apart that you almost cried.

Eventually, he pulled back and focused his heavy gaze on you. Din gave you a small smile, a hand tracing your jawline. “No, cyar’ika. The saber stays.” Your own smile faltered and fell. He left one last chaste kiss on your lips. “I love you. I will protect you.”

Your life on Mandalore was odd. Din left you out of the loop of everything. All you knew was that more and more Mandalorians arrived by the day to follow Din Djarin. It didn’t surprise you. The Din you knew and loved was a natural born leader whether he liked it or not. He had a magnetic draw to him. You didn’t see that side to your Din very much anymore. 

The city around you was slowly being rebuilt and you pondered your next move. Two months you had been on this rock seeing Din from a distance. Watching him turn into someone you didn’t recognize. When the palace was reestablished, a sentence you found obnoxious and ridiculous, Din moved you there to stay. He’d work all day, drift into your shared bedroom at night, and you mourned the days where everything was easier. Simple.

“Cyar’ika.”

You glanced over your shoulder to see the Mandalor approaching. The king of this world looked like Din, still stared at you as if you hung the moon and stars, but all you could see was the darksaber. It’s possessive energy clung to the man you loved. Two Mandalorian guards followed behind him, and you briefly admired the thick, fur lined cape that hung off one shoulder.

Din came to a stop in front of you and motioned to himself with a sheepish smile, “What do you think?”

“Very regal, Mandalor.” You teased softly.

Din drifted closer and took your hands in his. “Ni ceta, cyar’ika.” He mumbled. “I know I haven’t been around.”

“You’ve been busy. I get it.” You shrugged and tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

“But you come first. You always come first.” Din said firmly. “Things will be better from here on out. We’re stable. We’re established. And… I have a surprise for you.” Nervously, Din lifted your hands to tenderly press a kiss to them. “I have no right to ask, but will you give me your time today.”

It was so sweet. It was so Din. You were too overwhelmed to do anything but nod. Things could always turn around, you told yourself. All your time here, distanced from Din, you had planned. He needed a little exposure to his old life. You were the only person Din kept. Maybe seeing Boba and Fennec, seeing Peli, seeing Karga, seeing anyone would bring him back to the surface more permanently. You had even wanted to get in touch with Skywalker or Ahsoka to plan some kind of visit. If Din could see Grogu, you had no doubt he’d snap back into reality. He’d set aside the darksaber. The issue was, Mandalore still had thick storm clouds that prevented any outside interference or messaging. 

You felt isolated.

Din looped your arm through his and you walked by his side down the long hallway. You weren’t sure where he was taking you quite yet, but he spoke casually about his day and asked about yours with real interest. His smile was so warm and sincere that you could almost ignore the negative energy that damned saber gave off.

“Where are we going?” You asked as Din turned down a hall you knew would lead outside. “If we go out, I’m gonna need to grab my jacket.” Mandalore’s seasons still confused you and it almost seemed like the previous attacks had thrown the natural order out of balance. Lately, it had been rather cold.

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you.” Din chuckled. He paused by the doors and you couldn’t help but glance at the two silent Mandalorian guards still standing near. Movement made you glance back in time to see he had shrugged out of his thick robe. Din settled the heavy article on your shoulders and you were surprised by the warmth it encased you in. “Comfortable?”

You nodded with a small smile. The robe smelled like him. Din captured your face in his gloved hands and you gazed up at him in awe. Din was in a good mood. It had been so long since you saw him like this. Light hearted. Excited. “Are you happy?” The question fell from your lips before you could even think.

“Of course.” Din replied quickly. His tone suggested he was surprised you’d ask. “I have you.”

“You’ve always had me.” You mumbled.

Din’s face faltered, only for a second, before he bowed his head to rest on yours. Forehead to forehead. “Ni ceta.” He breathed the apology out sincerely. “I know things have been hard and…you’ve put up with so much. I’m so thankful for you, cyar’ika, and my greatest regret will always be making you question that.”

“I never questioned it.” You lifted a hand to place on top of his own. “I love you, and I know you love me. I’ve just…been worried about you, baby. I want you to be happy.”

“I am.” Din replied. “You make me happy.” He closed the space to press his lips to yours. Tender. Loving. Passionate. Din’s tongue traced the curve of your lower lip and you allowed him to deepen the kiss. Your hands shifted to tangle in his hair. Din pulled you closer, flush against his body, and it didn’t even matter to you that two other Mandalorians stood off to the side as witness to this scene. Din pulled back, separating the two of you, but he quickly set two more chaste kisses against your lips as if he couldn't bear the thought of being apart. Din whispered a promise under his breath. “For the rest of my life, I will make you happy. I’ll keep you safe.”

You had endured the hell of watching Din suffer and begin to lose himself in sorrow. Perhaps, this was the light at the end of the tunnel. Din had found stable ground, and he was now returning to a man you recognized.

Din turned away to push open the doors, but he kept your arm looped through his. The courtyard which typically sat unused and in a semi state of shambles had been cleaned and polished. Mandalorians as far as you could see stood waiting and as Din walked you down the path you spotted a medium sized platform, nearly a stage, and on it was a chair⏤ no, a throne. That was the only word to describe the heavy, dark metal seat. Standing on the platform, you recognized Bo Katan. She stood on one side of the throne. On the other side stood two others that you recognized, you had seen them with Din often, but you didn’t know their names.

“Din?” You whispered his name.

He shot you a smile but continued on. Suddenly, you found yourself on the platform standing beside Din as he faced the crowd. He lifted one hand, as if in greeting, and you stared at him as he spoke Mando’a. His voice was loud and firm. Powerful. This was a king among men. You never thought Din Djarin of all people would look like he belonged in this setting. You knew he had the attributes that would make a fair and just king, but Din had never enjoyed the spotlight. The future he craved, the future he painted while speaking to you in the dead of night, was a humble one. A home, some land, a family. Peaceful.

A bark of Mando’a, in a voice you vaguely recognized, interrupted Din and you watched as his shoulders stiffened. The crowd parted and a Mandalorin in dark blue armor approached. Axe Woves. That was his name you believed. You didn’t know what he was saying, but you could feel the tension in the air.

Din set his hand on your waist and pushed you back. You only stumbled back a few steps before Bo Katan took you by the elbow and dragged you back further.

“What⏤ What is going on?” You asked.

“Challenge.” Bo Katan said. Din drew the darksaber from his belt and as it came to life you felt your own heart plummet. It’s poison was spewing in the air⏤ suffocating you. Smug. Arrogant. Angry. Insulted. You sucked in a sharp breath. “Axe Woves has challenged Din for the darksaber. For rule.”

The fight started in a clash of weaponry. 

It was a blur of beskar, but all your eyes could focus on was the arc of the darksaber. The burning glow that was now seared into your eyes. Seared into your brain. You wanted nothing more than to take that damned thing and throw it into the darkest pit you could find. Every time you watched Din used it, you hated it all the more. The fight did not last long.

Axe Woves was a good fighter, but he was not Din Djarin.

Soon, the air was silent as Din held the edge of the darksaber just under Axe’s jaw. Close enough that the man had to have felt the heat. Axe was breathing hard, but you couldn’t see his face⏤ his back was to you. Din stood where you could see his face and he looked to be the picture of calm. 

“Cetar.” Din demanded. Bo Katan whispered, her eyes not leaving the scene, as she translated the Mando’a. ‘Kneel’. Din asked him to kneel. You felt a chill run up your spine and it wasn’t from the cold air. The darksaber was singing. Excited. Eager. It craved and craved and craved. Din repeated the command. “Cetar.”

“Nayc.” Axe replied. You didn’t need that word translated. 

At the sound of his refusal, you watched a flash of an emotion you didn’t immediately recognize in Din’s eyes. However, it was clear to see the way his lips briefly curled up into a smirk. You opened your mouth to scream, but all your words caught in your throat. Thick, heavy, and unwilling to be heard. Before you could overcome your hindrance, Din shoved the darksaber through Axe’s chest with not even a singular hiccup of hesitation. Your mouth hung open in shock and disbelief, but the horror didn’t land until Din leaned in and used his vibroblade to slice through the man’s neck in one swift motion. Blood sprayed out and the darksaber was screaming in pleasure.

“He had to make an example.” Bo Katan whispered. “It’s unfortunate, but Woves brought this upon himself.”

Din deactivated the saber and set it back onto his belt. While Axe Woves’ body slumped to the ground, Din tucked the still bloody vibroblade back into his boot’s holster. You stared at him wide eyed and horrified as Din marched back to the platform. He spoke before the crowd again, but it felt like your ears were ringing. The man you fell in love with would never have cut a man down in cold blood. The duel had been over. It didn’t have to end with blood. 

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Din as he crossed the platform to sit on the throne. His legs were spread out in dominance as he lounged in the seat radiating confidence and pride. His eyes snapped to yours and Din held his hand out to you. Bo Katan gave you a small nudge and you stumbled toward the throne with hesitant steps. Din’s cold features melted away as he stared up at you as he always did, loving, but it only made the splattering of blood on his face that much more daunting. 

When you placed your hand in his, your fingers were trembling. Din squeezed your hand in comfort and he carefully pulled you back so you sat in his seat. Bo Katan was addressing the crowd and you stared and stared at Axe Woves’ dead body. Still laying on the courtyard’s ground, the pool of blood around him growing larger and larger.

You felt Din’s breath on your neck. His hands settled on your hips as he sat up to press his chest against your back. His breath was replaced with his lips. Din mumbled about how much he loved you and how important you were to him against your skin. All this time, all the hope you had, was for naught. The man at your back was a stranger.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Din pressed another hot kiss to the back of your neck. "But I just wanted to show you our new throne, my queen. Surprise."

As it turned out, the light at the end of the tunnel had turned out to be just more hellfire.

In the dead of night, you ran. 

You had hoped Din would return to his senses, become the man he once was, on his own accord. You hoped he had only needed time, but this had been proof. You were out of your depth. Din needed more than just time, he needed more than just you. As soon as you got past the thick, stormy atmosphere on Mandalore, you’d call for help. 

The plan had been to take Din’s ship. It was the only one you were familiar with the controls enough to not have to worry about running into any issues. As it turned out, flying was not going to be the biggest problem you faced.

“Cyar’ika.”

Your blood ran cold. Slowly, nervously, you turned around to see Din stood not far away. His shoulders were slumped in disappointment, and the look in his eyes could only be described as absolute and total devastation. He took one step forward and you took one back. Din’s jaw locked.

“Din…”

“What are you doing?” Din murmured. 

You shook your head. “Listen to me⏤”

“Listen??” Din scoffed. He took in a shuddering breath. “How could you⏤ Cyar’ika, I… Why?”

His voice cracked and you felt your heart ache in your chest. Din took another step toward you and you held a hand up which brought him to a sudden halt. You pressed your lips together then tried to explain that you were doing this for him. “Din, you’re not…you’re not yourself. You need help.”

“I need you.” Din replied firmly. “Everything is fine.”

“You murdered a man in cold blood today.”

“Is that what you⏤ You truly think so little of me?” Din asked. “It was a duel, cyar’ika. A challenge on my rule. I had no choice.”

You took a step toward him. “Din, you slaughtered him. And you enjoyed it.”

Din’s eyes darkened and the energy that slammed into you was possessive. For so long, you assumed that was how the darksaber felt. However, seeing the way he stared at you now, you realized the possession went much further than how the saber felt for him. He stormed forward and on pure instinct your hand drew your lightsaber without activating it. A warning. His steps stuttered. You didn’t know it was possible to visually see a person’s heart break, but you were witness to it right now.

“Cyar’ika,” Din whispered, “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

That was true for the man you fell in love with. 

Was it still true?

“I…I…” You struggled to find your words.

Din held his hands out, palms up, in surrender. He took slow steps toward you as if you were a skittish animal he was trying to calm. The tenderness in Din’s gaze cracked your resolve. He reached out and let his hands slowly drag down your arms until they reached your hands. You felt your body tremble. It was easy to make the decision to run when you stared at Din’s features covered in blood, but now? His warm, brown eyes reminded you of every soft touch and tender word of love. 

“Just come back with me.” Din whispered. “Talk to me, cyar’ika. I know…I know things haven’t been right.” He squeezed your hands and pushed the one holding the lightsaber back to your hip. “Let me fix this. Let me make this right. Give me a chance.”

Din leaned forward to set his forehead against yours. A familiar motion that brought you comfort. You let out a soft sigh. One more night. You could spend it talking with Din, gauging a better plan, and it wasn’t like you would be able to leave right now anyways. Not with him right in front of you like this. The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just going to let you walk away and the absolute last thing you wanted to do was fight him. 

“Please?” Din pleased.

“Okay.” You murmured. 

The bright smile of relief that crossed his face made your heart flutter. Din pulled you into a tight hug and he clung to you like a lifeline. This would be alright. This would be okay. You’d make sure of it. Din slipped his hand into yours and carefully tugged you alongside him. The entire walk back to your bedroom was silent. Din’s thumb traced patterns against your skin.

“I love you.” Din said the moment you were back in your shared room together. His words came out as a desperate ache. “I’m sorry…”

“No, Din, I…I love you. I will always love you.” You replied. “I was leaving to help you.” Din’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I just think you’ve lost sight of your path.” You pressed your lips together then settled your hands on his chest. “I think we should leave Mandalore. Not forever, just⏤ I think we should visit Boba or Karga. Peli? Or… Or maybe we can reach out to Skywalker. Try to visit Grogu.”

Din’s eyes widened at the suggestion. 

He wrapped his hands around your wrists then lifted your hands so he could press a soft kiss against one palm then the other. Din nodded. “Okay. Tomorrow. I’ll be better, cyar’ika.” You gave him a small smile and he leaned in to crash his lips against yours. The way his lips moved against yours made you feel like he was trying to physically beg you to stay with him. Din had never been a man of many words, he’d whisper kind sentiments, but he always showed how much he cared by action. “I love you.” Din’s mouth dropped to your neck as his hands began to tear at your clothes. “You are everything to me.”

 Your hands reached out to unlatch Din’s armor. It was muscle memory for you. How many times had you done this exact same action in the dark during your time with him? Too many to count. His besker fell to the ground and the second he was bare of any armor, Din scooped you up and carried you to bed.

In the morning everything would be okay.

You’d make it so.

A familiar hand caressing the side of your face is what you woke to. You forced your eyes open, groggy, to find that Din was sitting on the side of the bed leaning over you. He wore his armor once more. Din leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your forehead.

“Ni ceta, cyar’ika.”

“Din?” You questioned.

“I want you to know that everything I do is because I love you.” Din said. “I’ve lost everything, but you.” He cradled the side of your face. “Even this, accepting the title and responsibility of Mandalor, I did with you in mind.”

There was a tone in his voice that was making you nervous. Slowly, you sat up and shook your head, “Din, I never asked you to do that.”

“I know.” He replied. “But this is how I protect you.”

“Din⏤”

“There is nothing in this galaxy that will harm you while I’m around.” Din said firmly. He stood up off the bed and gave you a tight nod. “I won’t lose you. I can’t lose you. This won’t last forever, I swear it. But I can’t leave anything to chance. Not when you mean so much to me.”

Din began to walk toward the bedroom door to leave and you stared at him in confusion. Quickly, before he could leave, you threw the blankets off your body and jumped out of bed. There was a heaviness around your left ankle, a coldness, and with every movement came a rattling. You glanced down to see a shiny, silver chain locked around your ankle. It trailed to the wall beside your bed.

“Din.” You breathed. He stopped but said nothing. “Din?” He turned around with sad eyes. Panicked, you began to rush toward him, but a few feet away from him the chain caught your ankle and you nearly fell to the floor. Warm hands caught you by the arms and pulled your back to your feet. Teary eyed, you shook your head. “What have you done?”

“It’s temporary.” Din repeated himself. “Just until I know you won’t hurt yourself by leaving.”

“Hurt myself⏤ Din, I⏤”

“Cyar’ika, I'm doing this for you. To protect you.” Din gave you a tight lipped smile of regret. “Or until I can make you understand.” Din leaned his forehead against yours. The soft action you loved ruined by his words. “You are mine, cyar’ika. You are mine, and I am yours.” That look of possession was in his eyes again. “And because you are mine, I have to take care of you. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

Din was beginning to step back so you quickly cupped his face between your hands. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be. As softly as you could manage, trying to bite back the fear and panic in your voice, you mumbled. “Din, baby, you’re losing yourself. I love you, but you’re losing yourself and it’s breaking my heart. Let me go. Let me help you.”

He turned his head and gently kissed the inside of your palm.

“Maybe I am.” Din murmured. “But if that’s the cost of keeping you, then it’s one I will happily pay.”

Din left without another word and you crumpled to the ground in tears. You mourned for the man you lost and cursed the man who took his place.

mando'a translations

ni ceta: i'm sorry cyar'ika: darling, sweetheart cetar: kneel nayc: no

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #mando x reader #mando #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #dark!din djarin #female reader #reader insert

[shockedemojiatsv]

▪︎■☆ Worship⛧🩸 ☆■▪︎

(Part 1.)

☆ 🔞!!VIOLENT AND VULGAR!!🔞

☆ cult!Miguel ohara / forrest monster/cryptid! Reader

☆ a little gift for @miguel-owhora !!

☆ violence is written in this work of FICTION. Things such as infant deaths or death in genera

☆ Hi!!! So I'm sorry for not writing as much but I've been verrrryyyy very busy‼️ (laughs and throws myself off a cliff) any who! Enjoy this little thingy!! I'm still in love with dad's cryptid AU after all this time 💕

°○☆Violence under the cut☆○°

Blood. Metal rust. And other animalistic things that would have a normal camper running for their lives. Then dying. Not out of some beast or an accident. But out of exhaustion. Limbs failing. Eaten away by the very grass of the ground only to be picked up by another predator.

Any normal person would run away. Any normal person would have thought twice before doing something stupid in uncharted woods.

Miguel was different. He was a cunning man. Frighteningly intelligent. Charming and observant and curious. Leave him in the woods with nothing and he's already built a somewhat stable community, sheltered and protected by... something out there. Something unexplainable. Something... you.

This was your forest. From the very beginning. Your memory is hazy of how your form, reeking of the more purer forms of mother nature herself, birthed upon the world to reek order. Not havoc. Not peace. Just a simple balance that you maintained for centuries.

You followed nobody. You didn't need to. And you killed if necessary. Or if you simply wanted. You had free will. Unbound by anything. Literally. Not even any mental constraints could keep you from moving through the night unexpected. Unlike any kind of animal the the world has ever witnessed.

Miguel was a different man. When he came into your forests, the winds tasted like he or his sheep didn't deserve to die. Unlike every other settler or founder who decided to try to poison your grounds.

You let him be. His little village growing with the so called refugees he gathered. Creating houses with the trees surrounding the area.

Surprisingly, they weren't greedy. They didn't chop down every tree they laid their human hands on. Because Miguel didn't allow them to. And you were greatful for that. But you paid no mind to his existence. Other than killing of unwanted organisms. But Miguel, or his sheep never dare trek past the space you let them in. And if they did, they didn't make a mess of their tracks.

Respectfully respecting the environment. Respectfully Respecting you.

Time went on and you continued to observe Miguel and his little underlings carefully. Usually under the darkness of the night. They seemed obedient to Miguel. You could smell a mixture of fear and adoration, and that drew you closer to him. After all, this was your domain. And you had the right to dive deeper into the minds of these obedient critters worshipping you in a way.

One day, Miguel comes along bringing a surprising, pleasant little gift. From out of his own home, he creeps towards the darker shadows of the village. Where the trees grow tall and strong. Uncut and left alone.

An infant. Brought to your feet. An offspring that smells very familiar with Miguel's species. Only, it's cold. It isn't breathing. You can't hear it breathing. Its wrapped in grey sheep's wool and it smells fresh. Like it had died the moment it escape the womb first breaths being its last. And he leaves it there on the mossy rock in front of the trees and walks quickly back to the safety of his own home.

A few hours pass. You're intrigued at the gift. You haven't received such offerings in centuries. So when this, frail human being offers a dead infant like a gift for the altar, your curiosity gets the better of you.

You snatch the child. In yours jaws... or your arms? It could be anything. You were an indescribable creature manifesting the more chaotic sides of nature after all. The little infant, you've seen it all before. Chubby, quite noisy, fragile. And most importantly, delicious. You cannot explain the slightes, but in all of your years of being in this realm, despite not having the needed nutrition you'd usually intake, human offspring has a certain charming flavor. Something you'd feast on with gusto. Maybe it was the fact that through the cycle of life and death, you've always defied both aspects. And the loss of something brought to this world so sudden felt like experiencing the gifts to be caressed upon your tongue. Consumed. And valued.

Miguel does this more often. Leaving you gifts. Little sacrifices. Whether it be piles of wheat or fish. Or, on other days when one of his "sheep" go disobedient, you find their corpse carefully gifted in the same spot on the mossy rock. Like a gift. A gift for your generosity of giving them their home, and protection. Your little gift mauled and torn apart limb by limb and licked ever so viciously. In a graceful matter. Until there was nothing left. Not a spec of blood or bone.

You favored Miguel out of the rest. And it's obvious as to why.

Miguel was a curious man. Perhaps a little too curious, so to say. So when he comes out with his little gift at night rather in the morning and stays there, waiting for you, you waste no time to throw him onto the ground. Your weight practically crushing him. And you bite his neck and drink his blood. A taste of the person who's been so devoted to... amusing you. He tastes like any other ordinary person you've eaten before. Salty. Metallic. A little sweet. But his flavor is laced with sheer utter adoration. Rather than fear. Curiously, you drink a little more. And in fact, he doesn't push you away. He doesn't grab his weapon and attempt to cut your throat. He fully accepts it. He holds you while you take your fill of his own crimson fluid.

And you don't kill him. You leave him there as you disappear into the woods. And he's even more insatiable.

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[antxlss]

can you do #2 w rafe maybe like y/n or reader is secretly fw rafe but he wants more and is obsessed with her and so possessive & gets jealous when she’s w other guys/pouges so he claims her 😖😖😻🧎🏼‍♀️

she’s mine

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader

summary: *see above*

warnings: suggestive comments

words: 1.1k

a/n: i love this idea, it’s so fun to write everyone’s requests. i hope you like what i came up with! it’s not exact, but i think y’all will like it. as always, thank you for reading! if you have any requests, please do not hesitate to reach out! i love you, enjoy! <3

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it was a warm friday night. you had been out all day fishing in the marsh with kie, john b, jj, and pope. you guys were starving since you hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so everyone - mostly jj - convinced kie to take us to her family’s restaurant and get us some scrap food.

we are currently sitting at a table in the corner of the restaurant, out of the way of all the real customers. it was a pretty slow night, only a couple of groups occupied a few tables a little further from ours. scattered people coming in and out.

kie comes through balancing plates along her arms. the boys were practically panting as they gawked at the the piping hot dishes. we consider it a luxury when we get to eat at the wreck. it easily tops the grilled cheese and instant ramen us pogues are used to.

kie gently sat down each plate in front of us. “guys, be careful, it’s ho-” she tried to explain.

before she could even finish her sentence we had already stuffed our mouths full. as soon as the scalding hot food touched my mouth, i spit it right back out. immediately i started fanning my tongue. i look over to see the boys doing similar gestures.

“i tried to tell you.” kie stated smugly.

i went back to my food making sure to blow on each bite before i ate it.

not even 10 minutes went by and we had already cleaned the plates. literally. pope, john b, and jj started licking their plates.

“stop you dumbasses. act like we have some goddamn decency.” i scolded.

pope looked over at me quickly dropping his plate. “sorry.” he muttered.

they all straightened up.

“thanks again kie!” i added.

“always. gotta keep my favorite people fed.” she gave me a quick side hug and started picking up plates to take back to the kitchen. i grabbed a few, helping her out. i walked them to the dish room and sat them in the sink.

“hey i’m gonna finish the dishes them i’ll be out.” kie remarked.

“okay, i’m gonna head to the bathroom.”

i walked out of the kitchen and into the dining area, when i saw him walk in. there he was.

rafe cameron.

behind him came his two best friends, topper and kelce. i don’t know why i was surprised, they are here all the time. i guess it’s just different seeing him here now. since we’ve been hooking up.

yeah. me and rafe cameron are hooking up. it’s obviously a secret. if one of the pogues were to find out, i’d be killed. or worse.

like all good relationships begin, we met at a kegger at the beginning of summer. i knew it was wrong. maybe that’s why i did it. for an adrenaline rush, for the thrill? but god was he they best sex i’ve ever had. the only down side is how obsessive he is over me. especially who i hang out with.

rafe has told me multiple times how he doesn’t like me hanging out with the pogues. how they are bad for me. how i would be better off with him. he doesn’t want me to talk to anyone other than him. and we aren’t even official. he’s very obsessive.

i take a deep breath and head to the bathroom. i have to slip past rafe to get there, but at this point i’m just praying he doesn’t talk to me. i can’t risk the pogues finding out about us.

just when i thought i’d gotten past him, i feel a strong hand tightly grip my bicep. it was rafe. he pulled me into the hallway going to the bathrooms. he guided me in front of him, but kept his grip on me as we talked.

“hey, what are you doing here?” rafe asked.

“eating. duh? it’s a restaurant, that’s what you do at a restaurant.” i replied sarcastically.

he pulled me closer to him, dropping his mouth to my ear. “i didn’t ask for that bratty attitude. drop it.” he demanded.

my eyes dropped to my feet. “sorry.” i muttered.

“that’s what i thought.” he smirked. “who are you here with?”

my breath hitched in my throat. i already knew what he would say if i told him the truth. “i’m by myself.” i answered, my eyes still staring at the ground.

“don’t you fucking lie to me.” he growled. “you’re here with those pogues aren’t you.”

i turned my head away from him. i couldn’t take the pressure. he suddenly, yet gently gripped my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes.

“i thought i told you to stay away from them.” his eyes were piercing through mine.

“but they’re my friends.” i complained.

“i’m more important than them sweetheart. you’ll learn that soon enough.” he patted my cheek then let go of his grip on me. “now go back to your table.”

i turned around and started walking back to the group. i had a nervous feeling in my stomach. i knew rafe was possessive, but i thought we were just a hook up. i guess he has different plans.

i sat down in the seat i had occupied before. just as i sat down kie made her way back to the table. the rest of the night we just talked and joked around, but i never to my attention off of rafe. i watched as they ordered, as they got their food, as they ate, and finally, as they got their check. once the trio had successfully paid, rafe sent topper and kelce out as he stayed behind. what the hell was he doing.

he was walking towards our table. holy shit.

it wasn’t long before the others caught rafe in their peripheral and started questioning the same thing i was. “why is he coming over here?”

it felt like hours before he reached our table. he stood directly in front of me. his eyes never left mine as he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like a piece of black fabric. he gently tossed it into the table. i finally got a good view of it.

“you left your panties at my house.” he stated with a straight face.

then, i realized what the black fabric was. the black lacy thong i had worn last time i went to rafe’s. i had been missing it, but i figured i just lost in on my way home. my jaw dropped. my face was blood red. i could feel the heat on my cheeks. i couldn’t even make myself look at my friend’s reactions.

“she’s mine.” rafe stepped back and i watched him walk out of the restaurant.

john b looked around the table. “what. the. fuck. just happened?”

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